#that that is a thing that is happening in other colonial states then it's best that you know. well-rounded knowledge and all that.

[harpuiaa]

death to america and to the west bloc if im being honest

[galeorderbride]

The Forest For The Trees - Fic Request (Gale x F!Tav)

A Gale smut piece requested by one of my OG readers @meglet1. Thank you so much for the request and for being you in general!! I seriously hope you like what I’ve written for you <3

18+ MDNI (This is SMUT/tags below)

Summary:

After Tav is nearly killed in a fight at Rivington Beach, Gale lets his fear get the best of him and a new couple spat ensues. Leading to a peaceful resolution :)

Tags: PiV sex, semi-public sex, inappropriate use of mage hand, oral sex (m and f receiving, including some choking), words of praise/encouragement, creampie, fingering (vaginal & anal), multiple orgasms, self-indulgent, some references to Tav having body issues.

Word count: 4.7K

Mind the tags, everyone. Fic below the cut:

“I decided to choose you and live, then you go off and almost get yourself killed!”

Gale wasn’t the type to air out his issues in front of everyone, but this time, he couldn’t shake the nervous energy off. Panic and anxiety of balancing on an uneven precipice, powerless. Just days ago, he chose to stay with Tav instead of doing as Mystra commanded him, deep in that haunting colony, where the Elder Brain resided and, because he decided to live, remained a threat to the entire Sword Coast.

Less than an hour ago, he and Tav returned from the beaches of Rivington with their companions. Running into a gaggle of rival gangs ready to slaughter each other. The guild, run by the infamous Nine Fingers Keene, and the new recruits of this Stone Lord everyone was talking about. Gale cared little for whose alliance went where. Not when Tav had decided to intervene right in the middle of things, doing her best to settle scores and ending up having to fight both of them.

In the crossfire, Tav was hit with an electrified weapon, a hammer imbued with thunderous damage effects that nearly killed her with the impact against her spine. Knocked down, she spent the remainder of the fight unconscious, no one having time to revive her until they’d finished the fight. Across a landscape of crime syndicate corpses, Gale watched with intensity as Shadowheart struggled to revive her. The image of her near dissolved heartbeat still aching within him, harsher than the orb. Gasping for breath at the last second when he thought he lost her forever.

She’d regained balance quickly, the powerful healing of Selune now imbued within Shadowheart’s fingers, even if she hadn’t quite gotten to admit it yet. Tav was walking normally, a little fatigued but nothing more than that. Which gave Gale the opportunity to stop being worried for her welfare and be upset instead.

“Do you know how close you came to death? How much I worried Shadowheart wouldn’t revive you? All for a bunch of criminals who would’ve cared for the dirt under their boots more than you!” Gale exclaimed as he paced around the hay shed at their camp outside Rivington. Tav followed, arms across her chest as she tried to contain a frustrated sigh.

“I wasn’t trying to get all of them against us. How many times has convincing people to cool their heads worked on this journey? Times we never expected! I didn’t think this would be an exception,” she replied, her voice soft but assertive in her own defense.

“That’s what happens when you expect things to work in your favour! We can never assume anything is an absolute certainty, and I’ve been saying this from the beginning. I know it’s in your nature to stick your neck out for people, but do recall that I gave up on what might be the heaviest task of my life so I could be with you!” Gale continued, letting his panic get the better of him.

Tav’s eyes widened, now no longer trying to placate. “Don’t you use that against me! My encouragement to have you stay with me is not a blank check to use against me when I do something you dislike. I asked you to stay because I love you! And I had no intention of starting a fight today, nor did I plan to end up in the state I did!”

This was around when the rest of the camp began to hear them arguing. Frigid looks turned their way by Shadowheart, Karlach and Wyll. Eyerolls and mischievous scoffing from Astarion. Jaheira simply shook her head and mumbled ‘young love’ under her breath. Gale pretended not to hear it.

She looked at him with such offense, eyes dotted with the threat of tears from his fury. Any motivation to be cross with her slowly waning each time his eyes met hers.

“I love you too! Which is why I’m so off put by what happened to you. I don’t want to see you putting yourself in danger and disregarding forethought! I don’t think you understand just how much I can’t—”

Gale didn’t finish the sentence, brought on by a fear that he’d overwhelm her in saying such an intense thing. They’d confessed their love in a spur of the moment, when the culmination of all they’d been through was knocking at the front door. Emotions were high, and while he meant every word he said, he didn’t want to cross a line and compromise the start of a wonderful thing with Tav. Deep down, he’d loved her from the moment he saw her, and each day he got closer to admitting that out loud. Precisely why he reacted with such fear to what happened at the beach.

Tav crossed her arms, an expression of seriousness he’d never seen before. Well, not directed at him.

“Can’t what? Don’t let this be the time you don’t use your words, Gale. Because I am this close to storming off,” she said, pinching her index finger and thumb together in an impatient motion.

“I can’t…live without…you,” he said, his voice starting loud and then slowly quieting as he completed the sentence.

The two of them stopped short, silence washing over them as his words sank into both their minds. Memories of their first night together flooding back, when he showed her everything he could offer. A beautiful experience in the Outer Planes, where their souls entwined within currents of raw weave. Expressing their new love in countless ways, too many for one evening, but they did all they could. Loving, tender, but despite it all, not real. Not bodies together, the physical exertion of passionate, violently yearning intimacy. Just what Gale became tempted with after he spoke those long awaited words, as the anger melted from his system and replaced itself with carnality.

There wasn’t time for Tav to respond. Astarion cut in with his usual mocking tone. “Would you two get a damned room? Your voices are grating and I’m trying to enjoy a nice glass of wine I stole from Last Light.”

“I knew that bottle was familiar!” Jaheira cried out, no longer paying attention to Gale and Tav.

Tav sighed, bothered by the chiding of their companions. She felt on the spot, watched in all the wrong ways. Gale gently grabbed her arm.

“Come over this way,” he demanded, short and impatient. Quite possibly the briefest she’d ever heard him speak.

He pulled her away from the camp, a short but fair distance from their companions. Clusters of bushes and broken trees began to fill the space as he brought her forward. The sun was setting above them, hues of paradisiacal magenta and orange above them, beaming through the shaking leaves. Tav didn’t have much time to gaze upon the natural beauty, for Gale led her as if running to safety.

“Gale, where are you taking me?! You’re pulling too much, I’m going to lose my balance,” Tav questioned.

A few seconds went by, Tav’s curiosity getting the better of her as she’d never seen him so flustered. Trees surrounded them, but not enough to block the bustling city lights of Rivington on one side and the fire of their camp on the other. Voices of Karlach and Lae’zel talking could still be heard from the distance they stood. Tav had never been to this side before, but Gale had a way of making her feel safe no matter where.

“Come here, love,” he said, his arms moving to hook around her waist as he pushed her gently against a large tree.

She had little time to take a breath before his lips were on hers, soft but with an ardent passion once resting in bubbling irritation, now sprouting into lust. Their bodies pressed together, hips against hips as Tav began to melt into his wandering touch. Her knees nearly buckled when his index finger grazed the ridge of her jaw, tongue caressing her own. Temptation to run her fingers through his wondrous hair was too great, that strange sensation of a near death if she didn’t, silken texture on her skin enough to forget about everything they argued about.

But his words hung loose in her mind, and she pulled out of the kiss for a moment. Their faces still centimetres apart as she whispered, “I can’t live without you either. I’m sorry I wasn’t careful.”

Gale rubbed his nose against hers, that playful, breathy grin plastered on his face. “Let’s just look out for each other, alright? It’s so easy to get ahead of oneself, and I love you too much to watch idle by and pray you know the risk. You are a powerhouse of might, my love, but neither of us is invincible.”

“I know, I know,” she said in a hushed tone, so whisper thin the crickets chirped louder. Night fell fast, unburdened by clouds and blanched with a sea of stars. Everything was perfect, a moment in time that both of them longed for since their first time together. Opportunities never coming soon enough as their arduous adventures took precedence over everything. Now was the time, when the sky’s darkness masked them from the rest of the world’s troubles.

Gale answered with peppering kisses down Tav’s neck, shivering at the supple softness against such a sensitive area. For the first time since before Mystra, he wanted something purely physical—mortal. Covered in the finite flesh of his new love, giving pieces of themselves as a simple reminder that they remained alive. He’d forgotten the lure of that desire, powerful and impossible to satiate without going the full way, being as close to Tav as humanly possible.

Cracked bark scratched the itches of Tav’s back, pressed ever harder with each kiss from neck to collarbone. Desire budding at the touch points of her body; at the tip of her breasts, the heat of her ears, the tingling between her legs. Those parts growing more swollen with want when she felt the brush of his palms around her waist, fingertips dipping under the hem of her shirt to tickle her lower stomach. They were like teenagers sneaking around behind a schoolyard, eyes darting back and forth to make sure no one saw them enjoy each other. A thrill long forgotten on both sides.

“Gale, won’t someone hear us? We’re still close to camp,” Tav said between laboured, lustful breaths.

“With all we’ve been through, I highly doubt they care. But to ease your anxieties,” Gale replied, waving his hand to create a violet purple dome around them, “A silencing spell.”

“Perfect,” she said.

With a quick maneuver, Gale unclipped the belt of her wrapped shirt, slowly folding the fabric over her shoulders. He took his time, relishing in the pull of cloth from skin, little reveals each second until she bore herself bare to him. A maroon brasier remained, almost black under the moonlight and slipping low. Enough to catch a glimpse of her nipples, begging to spring free from constriction. Meanwhile, Gale spread her longer shirt across the ground, using clothes as a makeshift bed—if not to remedy the future ache of his knees. He unwrapped his robes as well, left only in a white, linen shirt and trousers.

He could hardly concentrate, the beauty of Tav under the moonlight too transfixing to not stare upon. Fitted perfectly in her under clothes, the rise and fall of her chest teasing him without trying. Watching like she didn’t notice, but she did, and began to strip for his pleasure. Removing the straps of the bra first, slow against her shoulders, the perk of her breasts peeking out before the clasp snapped free. Gale stood before her, watching with a subtle grin.

“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Tav. Do you know how much? How I ache to the point of fever when graced with your presence?” He asked, voice dark with lust, a gruffness she didn’t hear when in the Outer Planes.

“Even as I am? No magic or beautiful strands of starry weave around me? Surely this can’t be as exciting as that time,” she said, not intending to be self conscious, but failing to keep that in check. Not a goddess, not a higher being in the form of a body, but just herself. Scars, blemishes, bad angles and all. Mortal in all the wrong ways.

“As you are is more than anything the weave could offer. Having you naked under the moon like this is a memory embedded in my mind for eternities to come,” he said, stepping over to her to help unbutton her pants. He ensured his fingers touched every part, no matter where, and his breath against her neck warmed and cooled.

“Oh, my, you give me no chance with words like that,” she said.

Between bountiful, romantic kisses, the rest of their clothes were discarded into the flattened pile. Too impatient to go somewhere with room to conjure a full bed, absorbed in the embrace of each other as they fell into the fabric. Tav straddled his waist, lowering down so she could still glide her tongue against his. Never wishing to part her lips from his for the rest of the night. Craving the push of his hands embedded in her skin, down her spine and over the hill of her ass, ending with a firm squeeze.

Not a single part of her didn’t feel something. Her nipples gliding against his chest hair, hardening them in seconds with the playful tingle at the tips. His hands finding purchase, amused enough to spank the right cheek with a hard enough force to have her yelp giggle and yelp out loud. And that irresistible grind of his growing erection pushing against her core, hastier than himself, simply begging to push into that tight, unoccupied hole. Just the beginning, and yet she already preferred being together like this, fully in tandem with each other, nothing but their beating hearts and heated bodies.

Eventually, both of them needed to take a breath, locked in a heated make out for a time they lost count of. Tav lifted her body up, back arched in pleasure as Gale followed teeth-first. Biting, sucking, licking her nipples, each side deserving of his equal attention. Delicate moans grew into hot, heavy woes of passion, caring little for noise control with the purple dome of silence above them. Saliva trailed down her breasts, her wizard so lost in the ecstasy of tasting those pink, round buds. Hugging her in his arms, moving his cock against her to feel the head getting wetter with her slick.

Tav whispered in his ear, fingers tangled in his hair, “Perhaps I should get into danger more often, if this is the consequence.”

Gale chuckled, muffled by the slide of his tongue around her earlobe, “No need. Should you want my services, all you have to do is ask. Nicely. With a very eager ‘please’. Now, I am on the precipice of sliding into you this instant. But I’d have you come first.”

Hands firm on her ass, he pushed her forward, legs buckling over as he laid down. Angling himself so her core hovered over his face as he continued, “On my mouth, darling.”

Unable to contain her giggles, she adjusted her legs to straddle the sides of his face. Too gradual for Gale as he grabbed her hips and pulled her down. Tav gasped from the heavenly sensation, his lips and tongue all over her pussy in seconds, nodding his jaw up and down to stimulate her slit with his stubble. His tongue moved with expert precision, letting Tav take control of the pace as he moaned into her cunt, slurping and sucking at her as if drowning himself in her essence. There wasn’t enough lip biting and stifled moans in the world to keep her from building up to a snapping orgasm, inch by inch as she swivelled her hips around his face. His nose jutted against her pubic bone, mouth focused entirely on her swollen clit, pushing her down to ensure she wouldn’t move away. Even as her inner thigh muscles shook with pleasured tremors.

Tav stuttered out, “Holy fu…ck…Gale, I’m s-so close. Keep going, keep going! Now, yes, now!”

At that point, she was using any superlative her blurred mind could conjure. An orgasm flowered within her, strong, hot and never felt in a very long time. She clawed his hair under her legs, twitching hips riding out a wet climax, dripping into his beard. A taste he’d never get enough of, buttery and sweet on his tongue. He’d be happy to suffocate under her in a bid to have her finish again.

Coming down wasn’t an option, continuing to flick his tongue against her clit even as her muscles relaxed. Sensitivity stung at her pussy, sharp hits of pleasure shining through with each feral moan he made. A sound so enticing, she melted for him, allowing his hands still on her ass to push her further forward, rear completely up. Behind her, he snapped his fingers, figments of magic beckoning around her in a light blue glow. Tav could barely pay attention, lost in the feeling of his tongue lapping at her cunt. Until two fingers pushed into her entrance, filling her quick but smooth in an electrified vibration. A mage hand, finger fucking her from behind. Taking her to a place of impossible pleasure, no choice but to let go.

As Gale sucked at her clit, muffled words came from below her, “Does that feel nice, my love? Can you cum all over my face again? That’s it, let the hand fuck you, good girl.”

“Gods above, Gale, I’m so sensitive! But fuck it feels so good!” She exclaimed, whimpering with each buck of her hips against his mouth, the hand following every angle so not a centimetre pulled out. Pumping into her tight walls, angling in just the right direction to have her shaking for a second climax.

“Let me help you even more,” Gale said, motioning his wrist to command the mage hand to push its thumb at the entrance of her asshole. Prodding in and out, gently easing in enough to thrust in the same rhythm as the fingers, slick sounds of sex invading her ears. She gasped at the hot tightness, cunt thoroughly stimulated in every way. It was perfect, hitting every spot just how she liked, and some she didn’t know existed. Gale was simply eager to please, laughing slyly as he felt her orgasm again.

Tav quaked at her second finish, overwhelmed with searing ecstasy. She cried out, “I can’t take it anymore, please! Too—too sensitive.”

The mage hand vanished with her command, easing the pressure of overstimulation palpating in her veins. Gale couldn’t resist one, soft kiss on her clit before letting her move off of him. Without her body to focus on, the ache of his rock hard cock snapped into awareness. Precum dotting the head, so stiff he feared it might break at the gentlest touch. Proven wrong when Tav brought her lips down to the tip, licking off the salty cum. Giving him a taste of his own medicine as he shivered in sensitive rapture. Both of them had a tendency to get carried away, as what was meant to be a simple tease with her tongue led to her taking his cock into her mouth. Using her hand to pump at the bottom of the shaft, too big to go all the way down.

Choking and sucking sounds filled the air as Gale writhed under the mercy of her mouth. Running her hand up and down his bare thigh, hypnotized by the lusty song of his satisfied whimpers. He wanted to tell her this wasn’t necessary, he enjoyed seeing her enjoyment. But as her throat coated his cock, he was rendered speechless. More so when she bobbed her head up and down, moaning through her nose as he gently joined her by fucking her mouth. Small, quick thrusts in fear of hurting her, but enough to make his calf muscles strain.

Spit and precum doused his cock as she lifted him out of her mouth, a raunchy ‘pop’ sound coming from her lips. Gale’s shaken, pleasured sighs covered the forest, stimulated by the cold air kissing the wet surface of his raised erection. Tav fawned over how it glistened, her core pulsing and tightening with the silent beg to be filled. Surely, she’d pass out if he wasn’t inside her immediately.

Gale exhaled deeply, shaking his head with unfathomable joy. “You will be the death of me. That felt…so good. I don’t even know how to describe it.”

She smiled, failing to contain the blush on her face. How she loved to know he was already satisfied. “We’re not done yet, my love.”

Her leg hooked back over his waist, straddling him again. This time, angling the opening of her cunt right against the desperate head of his thick cock. He looked so beautiful below her, gleaming with sweat and rosy with anticipation. Fingertips tickling up and down the sides of her thighs. Gods, when he laughed, that lusty chuckle of boiling desire had her foolish in his arms. She chased that sound, easing down on his cock until he bottomed out inside her. The stretch and slick of her walls fluttering around him forcing a high pitched whimper from her. Clit shuddering at the sensation of little hairs against it, nearly orgasming right there. Never had she wanted someone so much, craved another’s touch in a way she didn’t know was possible until meeting him. Everything about him was magnificent.

“Moan for me, love. I want to hear your every sound as I fuck you,” Tav demanded, locking her palms on his chest as she began to ride him. Fast, fervently, hips bucking back and forth so good he obeyed instantly. Husky, sultry, moans and even guttural growls with each grind of her pussy against him.

One hand stayed on her thigh and the other kneaded at her breast, his thumb flicking and pinching her nipple while her languid movements continued. By now, he could see when she was close, biting down on her lip to concentrate as she ignored her aching muscles. More warmth and wetness dripped along his cock. He nodded to her, let her use him as a toy for her own pleasure, moving pieces of hair from her face at the same time.

“Let me see you cum again, please. That’s it, ride my cock like that. So wet for me, I can’t believe it. Keep going, yes, very good. You’re doing so well,” he said, words of encouragement coming with his thumb moving to her clit. Rubbing the spot he learned she liked, just a little assistance in getting her over that impossible edge.

Tav’s body cramped up as she squeezed onto his cock, crying out Gale’s name as her third climax ripped through her lower half, felt even at the tingling peak of her breasts. He could’ve done anything in that moment, came anywhere he liked, and she’d be fine with it. Her orgasm all the stronger as she pictured being covered in him from face to pussy. A debauched mess on top of clothes, fully vulnerable to him.

Seeing her above him brought his own release closer. Unable to wait as he pulled her torso down to kiss her hard, pushing his tongue into her mouth with reckless abandon. Tav yelped playfully as they kissed, paralyzed by the ecstasy of being fucked into. Sore, sensitive and hedonistic, she relished in the hard thrusting and the heated touch of their perspired bodies together. Wishing this would never end but craving his release inside her at the same time.

She left the kiss to whisper in his ear, biting his earlobe, licking at him, “Finish inside me. Please, I want it so bad.”

“Oh, gods, Tav I’m going to—right…ah!” He groaned out the unfinished sentence, his impatient cock spilling inside of her tight hole. He pulsed within her, feeling his spine arch as he experienced likely the greatest orgasm he’d ever had. Reaching his entire body, lasting longer, an addicting taste of eternal paradise. Tav’s soft whimpers the final touch to the most wonderful feeling.

She moved off of him, laying flat with her legs open. Gale still felt trickles of desire in his stomach, not enough to get hard again so quickly, but enough to lean over her thoroughly fucked cunt. His breath warmed her skin as he caressed his tongue along her clit, letting his index finger rub her cum-filled entrance as he did. All she could do was wheeze, too tired for a full moan but adoring the feeling of his mouth on her again. He was gentle this time, careful not to bring out the growing soreness. No, he just softly licked, kissed and sucked at her clit, stomach sinking with carnal intrigue as he watched his cum dripping out of her. He wanted to mark his territory, give her one more orgasm to be certain she knew she was his. Even just a little one.

Tav concentrated with the full power of her exhausted mind, feeling herself ready to climax once more. She couldn’t believe how skilled he was, moaning his name out again as he pinched her lips together, pushing her clit further into his mouth. That, mixed with the amazing sensation of his cum inside of her, was enough to inch her into that little release. Her fingers clutching his hair, pulling slightly as she came for a fourth time. A tiny bit more of his seed poured out of her as she relaxed.

“Perfect,” he said, leaving her core and moving to lay beside her, “You are amazing. I can’t believe you’re real sometimes.”

Tav smiled, cuddling into the crux of his shoulder, “I should be the one to say that. No one’s ever been so attentive to me. And by the gods, I have never finished that many times.”

“Oh, my love, I am excited to inform you that wasn’t even all I can do. If I had you in a bed, with a private bathroom, different corners of the room to take you in; you’d have at least six, I’d make sure of it,” he replied.

“In that case, we must find an inn as soon as possible,” she replied, kissing his cheek as he scooped her body closer to him.

They cuddled for a few minutes more, letting the cool, night air dry their sweat-drenched bodies before returning to camp. Hand-in-hand, eyes doled with the fire of new romance and the comedown from lovemaking. What began as the rising moon, evening pink with sunset, had transformed into deep night, pleasantly dark and glinting with fresh, sparkling stars. Neither of them wished for a conclusion, but sleep beckoned and they had no idea what might happen tomorrow. Tav only knew that she’d refrain from taking too many risks, as now she’d become a fool for someone else entirely.

Gale and Tav agreed to share a tent tonight, and from now on. First, she went to the smouldering fire to grab a piece of sunmelon and her water canteen. The rest of the camp now silent as everyone retired for the evening, except for their most nocturnal companion: Astarion. Who had returned from the other side of the woods, pallid complexion brighter than usual, a sign that he just fed on an animal.

“Good hunt?” She asked, finishing off the last bite of her sunmelon piece and throwing the peel in the fire.

“Never as good as the real thing, darling, but enough to tide me over. Perhaps I should’ve saved some for you, tired little adventurer,” he replied, brow raised in that cheeky expression. Always present when he was about to take the piss out of someone.

“Fruit and water will suit me fine. Goodnight, Astarion,” she replied, turning to head for Gale’s tent.

Astarion spoke as she walked away, “By the way, remind your wizard to maintain his silencing concentration. If I’m going to hear your debauchery, I’d rather hear it from the beginning and not halfway through. Goodnight, Tav!”

Tav cleared her throat, swallowing down her growing embarrassment as she walked to Gale’s tent. Knowing fully well what kind of teasing she’d endure the next morning. For now, she would simply sleep in Gale’s arms and deal with the rest as they came.

[dizzymoods]

During the Troubles, Civil Rights Leaders went to Ireland to learn about the plight of the Irish people and to support their fight against colonialism.

Standing on the success of their nonviolent principles which led to civil liberties here (to whatever degree the CRM was successful) and in their ignorance of the history of Ireland, they tried to get the IRA to adopt nonviolent, peaceful civil disobedience.

At the end of their tour of Belfast, where they learned the history and politics of Irish resistance, all of them come to the conclusion that here violence is necessary. The Irish have exhausted all other means including nonviolent ones. Even if some of the CRM leaders maintained nonviolence as paramount, they understood that certain exceptions must be made because — regardless of if they approve of violence or not — their job is to support colonized people and follow their lead.

There is a lesson here that we should apply to the Palestinian struggle.

I’ve seen people pearl clutch over seeing so many dead Palestinians as part of the colonial violence of the camera. This misses the point of why those images are being shared.

Last decade many Black americans, myself included, talked about the commodification of Black death. videos of state murder plastered on every news channel 24/7, going viral across social media platforms connected to the legacy of lynching postcards and gator bait. We demonstrated that those videos rarely got an indictment and only once a conviction. Many of the families of these victims of police murder made it clear they don’t want the image of their loved one to be of death. The reason why we share Michael Brown’s graduation photo instead of the photo of his corpse is because Lesley McSpadden demanded it. With all this in mind, we understand that in most cases the sharing of those images are antiblack.

The Palestinians do not have that history. The Nakba never happened, despite israelis calling this the second Nakba. genocide joe said 40 israeli babies were beheaded after it was found out that the story was some wingnut footsoldier’s lie, not even official israeli hasbara. It was like 2 weeks ago that genocide joe said the number of murdered Palestinians (at the time around 5,000 Palestinians were martyred — the number is now over 10,000) was a Hamas lie.

Linguistically there is no murdered Palestinian. All the headlines read “x amount of israelis killed and some palestinians died”. visually there is no dead Palestinian. official israeli hasbara is trying to flood social media with videos of patient-actors getting into place in Indonesian medical training programs to “debunk” the countless videos of martyred Palestinians.

The denial of the scale of israel’s genocide of the Palestinians is so bad that reporters in Gaza are holding dead children in front of press cameras because Palestinians do not die and are not murdered.

The profit motive of these images is actually in their absence. not their over saturation like with Black americans. The west needs israel as a destabilizing force in the middle east. The strategy of the western media then is to bury these images, to not give them a second of attention. So logically the Palestinian strategy is to proliferate these images to show just how horrifying israel’s crimes are.

Two things can be true at the same time; what works for you doesn’t necessarily work for me etc.

The other thing i’m seeing are liberal frameworks to understand genocide. Of particular ire is desirability politics. *jujubee voice* just say white supremacy.

Desirability is tertiary at best. israel is genociding Palestinians because they want control over Gaza and the West Bank (and Lebanon too). They are not genociding Palestinians because Palestinians are “undesirable.” They make Palestinians undesirable to justify taking their land. Talking about this psychoanalytic bullshit distracts from the primary reason for the displacement and mass murder of Palestinians: the taking of their land.

~*desirability*~ is just one way that israel tries to justify its crimes. Desirability is a circular logic that can only make sense once you manufacture its premise irl. It means nothing without the material conditions it claims are true. Its super easy to call someone an animal after you put them in a cage. It’s super easy to call a people dirty savages after you restrict their access to water. It’s super easy to call someone violent after you sequester them in small, barely livable spaces and stress them with bombings and check points.

It’s also — there’s a way in which opposition to something reifies the very thing that you oppose. Toni Morrison continues to beat everybody’s ass. What does it do when you see a baby with half a skull and say “this happened because she is undesirable”? Undesirable to whom? Not me.

Palestinians are not so passive as to oppose white supremacy and desirability. The Palestinian people are a proactive people. Palestine is the issue. Palestine has a people. Palestine has an ecology. Palestine has life. Palestine is life. Palestinians fight for life. life can neither exist nor blossom under white supremacy.

Any analysis that does not begin with this is a distraction. And distractions only benefit the colonizers.

[milkytheholy1]

Shadow Generations: Part 1

A/N: briefly based on Shadow Generations, this will eventually contain an x GN reader.

"Shadow, wherever you are, I'll always be with you."

There was certainly something strange happening today, at least that's what Shadow thought. Though now thinking back to it, there were definitely some red flags: being invited to Sonic's birthday party was the first one.

It wasn't unheard of that the two hedgehogs sometimes fought, and sure, on the occasion Shadow would help the blue faker out. But to be invited to his birthday party? That was another level of torture Shadow didn't know if he could handle.

The second red flag was receiving a message from G.U.N first thing in the morning, some old tech on the ARK had blipped back online and was sensing some bizarre anomalies. Shadow often dreamt of the ARK, tormenting himself on the ways he could have saved the Professor and Maria.

"You doing alright, Brood-o?" Rouge hummed, a small smirk dancing on her lips. She held some birthday decorations in her hands, Shadow couldn't believe she had actively volunteered to help out.

"Hmpf, I told you to stop calling me that." he hissed, Rouge couldn't help the devilish cackle that fell from her lips. Nodding her head to the G.U.N transponder, she got closer to Shadow so the others couldn't hear, "What's that all about? Do they need us already?"

"No, Towers wants me to head to the ARK."

"The ARK? Haven't they got better things to do than to send us up there?" Rouge didn't often get mad, she got frustrated but never mad. Shadow shrugged his shoulders, "Not we, just me. One of the Professor's computers came back online and started reporting a strange energy, G.U.N wants me to go check it out."

Rouge glared at the hedgehog, of course he wouldn't sit around and wait for the party to start, god forbid he'd actually help them to decorate. Placing one hand on her hip and balancing the decorations in the other, she pulled an expression Shadow had rarely seen from her before: Worry.

"Jus- Just be safe, okay? I know it's...difficult for you up there."

"I'll be fine, Rouge." For once Shadow didn't pretend to be the tough guy, he reassured his friend and she appreciated that. Shadow and Rouge's friendship was a weird one, one minute they'll be at each other's throats and then next they'll be thinking like one.

The time for goodbye quickly ended as Shadow jetted off, ready to start his mission.

--- Time Skip to the ARK ---

The ARK, a place where the world's best scientists were set with the task of curing mankind. A place of innovation and excitement, my first thoughts were here, my first memories. I can only wonder what great things the scientists would have accomplished in time, if not for what happened.

I remember the first time I opened my eyes, my first time seeing the world I was created into. Those blonde locks and big blue eyes were my first introduction to humans.

Maria...

Shadow raced around the familiar route of the ARK, speeding down hallways he would often walk along with her. Before checking the main console where the device lay, Shadow took a detour to the Professor's lab. On the way there he dashed past an all too friendly room. Drawings dawned on every wall, the bed was made neatly like it always was, there were hair brushes and headbands on the desk and a small teddy on her bed.

He couldn't help himself but stare into the darkened space, never stepping foot in there for fear he would never want to leave.

Remember the mission.

Arriving at the Professor's lab, Shadow noted all the torn documents haphazardly strewn across the room, he picked up the first thing he saw, a newspaper clipping torn at the edges:

Professor Gerald Robotnik, lead scientist on the Space Colony: ARK, has once again proved science is the future with new weapons to be sent to American Troops to win the tide of war.

While not much is known about the scientist or his work on the ARK, the United States Government seems impressed by the research and work Robotnik is carrying out.

When asked for the reasoning about the massive space station, Robotnik had this to say: "While science is always a big motivator, my biggest reasoning for the creation of the ARK is to find cures for those who need it, and space is the cleanest and safest place to do so."

It is no surprise that the safest place 'off of Earth' houses Gerald's granddaughter, Maria Robotnik. Not much is known about her condition, but it is safe to say she will be alright and in the best hands of the team of scientists in the Space Colony: ARK.

How foolish he was to think they were untouchable up here, no matter where they were they would have always been targeted. Placing the clipping back down, Shadow turned to the testing tube he once called home. Shuddering at the things he had to endure and suffer, he eventually left and headed to the main console.

The vast expanse of space was almost as scary as its immeasurable scale of beauty, large windows encapsulated the ARK's main sector, and lying in the middle of the room was a large pillar with a yellow shine shimmering in the broken lighting of the ARK.

"It can't be..." Shadow whispered, approaching the object. Pulling out his own chaos emerald he compared it to the one that lay before him, "Tails' fake emerald, we used this last time we came to the ARK. You were very clever, Fox. But it will never compare to the real thing."

Radio static disturbed his momentary peace, "Shadow, Shadow, can you hear me-"

"Rouge? I hear you, I've made it to the ARK, not much has changed since we last paid a visit."

"Did you find -Zstz- the console? What's the -zTsZ- anomaly?" Rouge's voice fizzled in and out. Shadow approached the machine, tapping away though he soon learned the computer was completely inoperational.

"How strange? Rouge, the ARK's computer isn't fully active, I can't access information on this anomaly."

"Do you think it's just a bug?"

Suddenly the left-hand side of the ARK started dissolving into nothingness, Shadow's eyes widened, his grip on the computer loosening. Pulling the radio closer to his mouth he spoke his final words to Rouge, "I found it." Before Rouge could continue, Shadow was ripped away from the console, powerless to do anything to stop himself from falling.

[hetaliahyperfix]

Hetalia Headcanons: Nation Physiology- Immortality

There's been a lot of interpretations of the nations' immortality over the years. Some people believe that nations will permanently die from a regular mortal wound like any human would while others believe nations cannot be harmed at all.

Canon seems to indicate that the latter is more of the case, with the Hetalia Horror Show stating that Finland was unable to drown when he fell into a freezing lake, but was instead suffocating endlessly, unable to die (which is pretty horrific, if you ask me).

I personally have my own headcanons as to how their immortality works. Some of it aligns with canon, and some of it deviates a little. I figure its fine since everyone kinda picks and chooses which parts of canon they like.

So, here are my headcanons (tw: violence, death, disease):

Nations cannot die the way humans do. At least, not permanently. Honestly, the idea is kind of absurd. It is impossible for them to have survived as long as they have if this was the case. China alone is over 4,000 years old and has fought in tens of thousands of battles, yet I am to believe he has not once sustained a mortal wound? What happens to the PRC if its nation persona dies from being hit by a car while being distracted by playing a mobile game on his phone? In my interpretation, nations cannot permanently die from fatal wounds, diseases, old age, and whatever other stuff that kills regular humans.

Nations can temporarily die. While they can't permanently die from mortal wounds, they can temporarily. For example, if they are shot in the head, it will kill them. However, they will heal and revive.

Nations have supernatural healing. This actually seems to be canon, based on the comic of Prussia lying about when he injured his hand, saying it was recent instead of the real answer which was a week ago, implying that healing tends to be faster for nations. In my headcanon, the nation's ability to heal depends on how strong their nation is economically, militarily, and through their overall cultural influence on the world. Currently, America and China heal the most rapidly, both being superpowers, being able to regenerate entire lost limbs in mere moments. On the other hand, Iceland has a very small GDP, no military, and very little cultural impact on the world, so he would take at least 20 seconds to heal a simple stab wound. Naturally, this healing fluctuates with the nation's power. When America was a colony, it would have taken him several minutes if he wanted to regenerate a limb. Better to just reattach the limb and heal it that way.

If the body cannot heal, a new one will be created. For example, let's say a nation fell into the ocean and is drowning. They keep dying and reviving in an endless cycle. Eventually, either through their own choice, or the supernatural natural nature of their existence, that body will permanently die and a new body will be reborn on their nation's soil. This process takes at least 24 hours and depends on how strong a nation is. America and China could probably revive 24 hours on the dot. Meanwhile, Monaco could take several days. Nations do all they can to avoid this type of death because it is, at best, highly inconvenient and it can, at worst, single handedly screw things over for them majorly. Imagine being a nation at war and having your body blown up by a bomb. By the time you revive and then travel back to the battlefield, it may already be over. This was especially awful when travel was not fast and it would take months to get somewhere.

Nations do not scar the way humans do. A nation's healing, no matter how weak they are, is perfect. It may take a while, but their bodies will go back to the way they were, meaning no scars. For a nation to receive scars, it would be based on injuries received during significant national events, especially if they are violent. For example, the French Revolution was very significant in French history so, when France was beheaded, he had a permanent, faint scar around his neck even after he healed. When the Romanovs were shot dead, ending Imperial Russia's rule, one of the bullets that bounced off the jewels they were wearing hit Russia and left a permanent bullet wound scar. Basically, a nation can end up with a permanent scar by receiving the wound during a significant, usually violent, event in their history.

Nations do not get sick the way humans do. Nations are immune to getting illnesses the way humans do. If they are around people with colds, they'll never catch a cold. They also never get terminal illnesses like cancer. There's only two things that can get a country sick: poor economy and epidemics. Honestly, this seems to be canon. Basically, if a nation's economy is doing poorly, like during the Great Depression, they will get cold/flu-like symptoms. The other way they get sick is through epidemics. Essentially, if enough people in their nation are sick, their own bodies will reflect this illness. However, since they didn't catch the illness naturally and got it though their nature as a nation, they can only stop being sick when the epidemic is over. When a nation is sick, they cannot be cured through ordinary means, they can only use medicine to alleviate the symptoms. During the Black Death, the European nations all had the bubonic plague to varying degrees for years. In fact, the bubonic plague made various resurgences over centuries. Many of them have scars from when the pustules burst and just about every one of them was extremely traumatized by it.

Nations can be effected by other types of "epidemics." For example, during the Red Scare when everyone in America was living in fear of their neighbors being communists, America became very paranoid. During the Opium Wars in China, his body began to crave opium like an addict before he even touched the stuff because nearly all his citizens were addicted, causing him to be addicted before even using. India went through at least three major famines killing over 10 million people each time from 1769-1793, so he was always underweight and hungry even if he ate during this time period.

Nations are resistant to poisons and chemicals. It takes far more poison to kill a nation than a human, although you can do it if you use a strong enough poison. I read a headcanon once that China would calmly drink a poisoned drink in front of the person who did it, just to freak them out. He 100% would do this, no debate.

Nations are vulnerable to radiation. One of the few things they are vulnerable to. While they can endure it better than humans, it is still not good. Radiation works by killing cells, via preventing them from dividing. This disrupts their ability to regenerate, so they heal slower with it.

Nations age based on economic and cultural development. This one is kinda canon. Regular humans age by the year. Nations seem to age based on the development of their country. For example, America's economy grew far faster than Canada's, and there is even a strip showing a nearly adult America next to a baby Canada despite both being born around the same time. On the opposite side of the spectrum, we see that North Italy did not age from infancy for over a 1,000 years. He was alive to have known Ancient Rome, which means he would have been born, at latest 476 AD. He did not begin to age until the Renaissance in the 1500s. As an aside, could you imagine being a baby/toddler for 1,000 years? That's honestly sounds horrific. And, based on England's shocked reaction to America's growth, it seems spending several hundred years as a baby is the norm.

So, with all of this being said, how do nations die? Well, that will be my next post. This one is already long enough so I am going to continue in another post. I hope you enjoyed my first major headcanon post! Let me know your own thoughts in the comments below.

Next Part

[girlactionfigure]

the British

SEPTEMBER 18, 2024

For many years, there has been a concerted effort to delegitimize the State of Israel as a British colonial project. These people decontextualize one single paragraph-long, non-binding statement -- the 1917 Balfour Declaration -- and ignore everything that happened before and since. 

The fact of the matter is that by the time the British actually occupied the territory that now encompasses the State of Israel and the Palestinian Territories, they actively worked with the Arabs against the establishment of a sovereign Jewish state. 

Anyone familiar with the complicated history of the conflict beyond the same tired propaganda talking points knows this. Our own grandparents know this, because it was they who suffered under British curfews, detention camps, unfair laws, and more.

THE BALFOUR DECLARATION: IN CONTEXT

In 1897, at the First Zionist Congress, the Zionist movement decided that “Zionism seeks to establish a home for the Jewish people in Eretz ­Israel [the Land of Israel] secured under public law.” In other words, the Zionist movement sought to accomplish its goals through legal means, rather than through violence. To do this, the Zionists tried lobbying a number of world powers, most significantly, the Ottomans, who then ruled over what is now Israel and the Palestinian Territories. They were unsuccessful. In fact, the Ottoman Empire tightened its anti-Jewish restrictions in the Land of Israel in response.

Meanwhile, as the Ottoman Empire weakened, a number of Indigenous religious and ethnic minorities in the Middle East, as well as the Arabs, began vying for their own independence. This was especially true during World War I, after it was revealed that the British and the French had conspired to take over the spoils of the vast Ottoman Empire once the Ottomans were defeated. Other groups that made public -- though ultimately unsuccessful -- bids for sovereignty included the Assyrians and the Kurds. In other words, given the context of the period and the region, Zionism was not an anomaly, but rather, it fell in line with what other national groups were doing at the time.

In 1916, the British promised the Arabs a unified Arab state in Greater Syria, which included what is now Israel, the Palestinian Territories, Lebanon, Jordan, and parts of Turkey. A year later, in 1917, the British signed the Balfour Declaration, supporting the establishment of a “Jewish national home,” which, in the eyes of the Arabs, contradicted the promise the British had made just the previous year.

“His Majesty's Government view with favour the establishment in Palestine of a national home for the Jewish people, and will use their best endeavours to facilitate the achievement of this object, it being clearly understood that nothing shall be done which may prejudice the civil and religious rights of existing non-Jewish communities in Palestine, or the rights and political status enjoyed by Jews in any other country.”

WHAT WAS THE BALFOUR DECLARATION?

The Balfour Declaration was a statement issued in 1917 by the British government supporting the establishment of “a national home for the Jewish people” in Palestine. 

There are two important things to keep in mind: (1) in 1917, Palestine was not yet under British rule; thus, the British had no actual power to assign it to anyone, and (2) by the time the British were given administrative powers over Palestine, they’d already changed their tune in favor of the Arab aspirations. It’s also important to note that the Balfour Declaration never specified the exact nature of this “national home for the Jewish people,”and, as such, the British felt that this promise did not actually contradict the earlier promise they had made to the Arabs in 1916 regarding a unified Arab state in Greater Syria. 

The causes for the Balfour Declaration are subject to speculation. Some historians believe the British wanted to reward Chaim Weizmann, one of the most active proponents for a Jewish state, for producing acetone, which was critical to the British war effort during World War I. Others believe the British were desperate for the Americans to enter World War I, and because they held the antisemitic view that Jews had a great deal of power over the American government, they thought that in rewarding the Jews, the Jews would reward them. Others claim Lord Balfour was a Christian Zionist -- not to be confused with a Christian who is a Zionist -- and he felt that the returning of the Jews to the Land of Israel would hasten the Second Coming of Jesus. Finally, others think the British “embraced” Zionism because they felt that it would justify their colonization of Palestine over the French colonization of Palestine, as the French were also vying for control of that strip of land.

BRITISH RESPONSE TO ARAB VIOLENCE

British rule over Palestine was characterized by appeasement to -- and oftentimes outright support for -- the Arabs, even when the Arabs carried out antisemitic massacres against the Jews. After the 1920 Nebi Musa pogrom in Jerusalem, for example, the Jews accused the British of complicity, as they had actively prevented the Jews in the Old City from getting help. In fact, it was this riot that led to the formation of the Haganah, the first Zionist paramilitary in Mandatory Palestine, as the Zionist movement realized that the British could not -- or were not willing to -- protect the Jewish population of Palestine.

In 1936, the Arab Higher Committee, the Arab leadership in Mandatory Palestine, called for a general strike and boycott of Jewish products. This quickly escalated into violence and terrorism, leading to the massacre of some 500 Jews and hundreds of British. Due to their inadequacy in protecting the Jewish population, once again, the British reluctantly agreed to arm the Haganah.

In 1937, the British issued the Peel Commission to investigate the causes of unrest in Palestine. The investigators decided that partitioning the land into one Jewish state and one Arab state was the best option -- putting partition on the table for the first time. The Jews agreed to the plan reluctantly -- the terms weren’t great, though Chaim Weizmann said the Zionist movement was prepared to accept a state “even if it’s the size of a tablecloth” -- but the Arabs rejected it vehemently. Wishing to appease the Arabs, the British immediately discarded the 1937 Peel Plan and instead rewarded the Arab perpetrators of the violence with the 1939 White Paper.

THE 1939 WHITE PAPER

Given the results of the 1937 Peel Commission, which found that it was the Arab leadership that had instigated the violence of the Arab Revolt (against Jewish immigration), the Jews in Palestine were absolutely dismayed when the British issued the 1939 White Paper.

The White Paper, in direct contradiction with the findings of the Peel Commission, called for the establishment of a singular Palestinian Arab state. The Jews felt that, in light of previous promises, hundreds of years of Arab subjugation of Jews, and Arab violence against the Jews in Palestine, a single, Arab-majority state would shatter any illusion of Jewish self-determination. 

Most damningly, the White Paper also almost entirely banned Jewish immigration, while Arab immigration continued to flow freely and without restriction into Palestine. The White Paper limited Jewish immigration to up to 75,000 people within a period of 5 years, and any further immigration would be subject to the approval of the Arabs. Keep in mind that this was on the brink of World War II, when millions of Jews were desperate to escape Europe.

Jews were also banned from purchasing any lands owned by Arabs, save for 5% of the Mandate territory. 

The Jewish Agency for Palestine issued a statement saying that the British were denying the Jews their rights in the “darkest hour of Jewish history.”

ALIYAH BET

Aliyah Bet is the code name for the wave of Jewish illegal immigration and illegal rescue missions to Mandatory Palestine between 1920-1948, and particularly after 1939, after the British passed the 1939 White Paper. Aliyah Bet happened in two phases: phase one (1934-1942/1944) and phase two (1945-1948).

The rescue missions were carried out by a network of Zionist organizations. Some 62 missions were carried out between 1937-1944, the majority of them unsuccessful and often ending with catastrophic results. 

Some 70,000 Jews, aboard 62 or 66 vessels (sources differ), attempted to reach Palestine via ship during World War II. Only ~15,000 made it safely, as most were unable to penetrate the British blockade. Five ships sunk, resulting in nearly 1,600 casualties.

After the war, the Haganah continued its illicit operations, now smuggling Holocaust survivors out of Europe. Overall, some 70,000 Jews arrived to Palestine in over 100 ships throughout the course of Aliyah Bet. This was a modest number considering the high number of Jews that attempted to travel to Palestine unsuccessfully. 

Aliyah Bet created a conundrum for the British. On the one hand, they were trying to appease the Arab Higher Committee, which decried Jewish immigration. On the other hand, the world saw the British as cruel, keeping Holocaust survivors trapped in detention camps and banning them from Palestine.

Had the British supported the Zionist movement, there would have been no need for Aliyah Bet, nor would 1600 Holocaust refugees have died at sea en route to Palestine.

DETENTION CAMPS IN CYPRUS

The 1939 British White Paper remained in effect until 1948, with the establishment of the State of Israel. After the end of the Holocaust, Aliyah Bet continued in full force. Most of the would-be immigrants -- Holocaust survivors -- were detained by the British and placed in prison and internment camps. The largest of the camps were located in Cyprus, which was a British colony at the time.

Between 1946 and 1949, some 53,510 Jews were held prisoner in these camps. The majority had arrived from the Balkans and Eastern Europe, though a small number of Moroccan Jews were imprisoned as well. 80% of the prisoners were between the ages of 13-35, and 6,000 of them were orphans. Some 2,000 Jewish children were born in the camps. After Israel’s independence, Israel evacuated the last 10,200 prisoners into Israel.

The conditions at the camps were atrocious and inhumane.Jews had to face obstacles such as poor sanitation, overcrowding, lack of privacy, and a shortage of drinkable water. The American Joint Distribution Committee, which provided medical aid, extra food rations, and more, stated that the British treated Jewish refugees in Cyprus worse than they treated Nazi prisoners of war in adjacent camps. 

Tents and barracks were overcrowded. There was a severe clothing and shoe shortage. The food was bad quality. Undoubtedly the biggest issue was lack of water, particularly during the summer, which resulted in poor sanitary conditions and the spread of disease. The British officers responsible for the refugees were unwilling and indifferent. The barbed wire and watchtowers reminded the Jewish refugees of their time in Nazi concentration camps, which was retraumatizing. Additionally, the camps had been built by Nazi POWs, which understandably upset the Jewish detainees.

Some 400 Jews died in the internment camps in Cyprus.

Jewish children in a British detainment camp in Cyprus after the Holocaust. Some 400 Jews died in these camps, due to lack of sanitation, malnutrition, subpar medical care, ill-treatment, and other poor conditions.

ATLIT

Atlit was a British concentration camp near Haifa used to hold Arabs and Jews under administrative detention (i.e. without a trial) during the period of the British Mandate. It was built in the 1930s and was primarily used to imprison Jewish refugees who arrived in Palestine. Some 10,000 Jewish refugees were held there. 

Men and women were separated upon arrival and sent to showers to be deloused with dichlorodiphenyltrichloroethane. Since many of the prisoners were Nazi concentration camp survivors, the showers were especially frightening and traumatic. Barbed wire formed a barrier between the men and women in the camp and the perimeter was surrounded by watchtowers eerily reminiscent of the Nazi camps. Children were separated from their parents. 

A nurse at Atlit described the conditions in 1947: “"...when the Jewish Agency asked me to come here, I felt maybe at last I could do something for the survivors. Then I saw the things that you're seeing now. The results of the Nazi dehumanization. People with no belief in the future, apathetic, quarrelsome, no morals...”

JEWISH INSURGENCY AGAINST THE BRITISH

Had the British been “on the side of the Zionists,” then there would have been no need for the Zionists to launch an insurgency against the British.

Zionist non-violent and violent (including terrorism) resistance to the British began after the 1939 White Paper. It was temporarily put on hold with the outbreak of the Holocaust, when the head of the Jewish Agency and future first prime minister of Israel, David Ben Gurion, announced, “We must assist the British in the war as if there were no White Paper and we must resist the White Paper as if there were no war.”

Towards the end of the Holocaust, however, the Irgun resumed its anti-British operations, when its leader and future prime minister Menachem Begin announced in February of 1944: “There can no longer be an armistice between the Jewish Nation and its youth and a British administration in the Land of Israel which has been delivering our brethren to Hitler…Our nation is at war with this regime and it is a fight to the finish.” 

The Haganah, which was under the jurisdiction of the officially recognized Jewish leadership in Palestine, remained mostly cooperative with the British, while putting pressure on them to open up Jewish refugee restrictions.

 Perhaps most infamous of all Irgun operations was the bombing of the King David Hotel in 1946, where the British held administrative quarters. Begin had warned the British of the bombing in advance, giving them ample time to evacuate their staff and hotel guests, but they didn’t listen. In the end, 91 people were killed in the bombing.

Following the bombing, the Irgun and Lehi continued attacking British police and military targets. In retaliation, the British imposed a number of restrictions on the Jewish population of Palestine,such as martial law, military curfews, random searches, and mass arrests. Tensions grew between the Haganah — which condemned the bombings — and the Irgun and Lehi.

BRITISH ANTISEMITISM

The unrest in Palestine reignited widespread British antisemitic sentiment, both within the Mandate and in Great Britain. 

For example, after the Irgun kidnapped and hung two British sergeants, British soldiers went on a rampage in Tel Aviv, indiscriminately attacking the Jewish community and killing five Jews.��In Great Britain, the outraged population rioted against the Jewish community, a riot which devolved into a pogrom, with many carrying signs with messages such as “Hitler was right.”

Jews were consistently put under curfews and subjected to ill-treatment.

Winston Churchill himself wrote that the British soldiers in Palestine were strongly pro-Arab. The Jewish Agency issued frequent complaints that the soldiers made antisemitic remarks, such as “bloody Jew,” “pigs,” or even vowing to finish the job that Hitler had started. 

It was the British officers in Palestine that first engaged in Holocaust inversion; that is, the depiction of Jews as Nazis. In March of 1945 — about two months before the Nazis even surrendered — the High Commissioner of Palestine, Lord Gort, told the Colonial Secretary in London that “the establishment of any Jewish State in Palestine…will almost inevitably mean the rebirth of National Socialism [i.e. Nazism] in some guise.”

Sir John Bagot Glubb, who later became the British Commander of the Jordanian Arab Legion during the 1948 war, called Jews “unlikeable, aggressive, stiff-necked, vengeful, and imbued with the idea of [being] a superior race.”

1948

The British abstained from voting in the 1948 United Nations Partition Vote. Some British officials, most notably British Foreign Secretary Ernest Bevin, openly opposed any partition or establishment of a Jewish state.

The British fought in both official and unofficial capacities alongside the Arabs in the 1948 war. In other words, they fought against the establishment of a Jewish state and in favor of an Arab state. Most importantly, British officer John Bagot Glubb commanded the Jordanian Arab Legion in 1948.

After the British withdrew from Mandatory Palestine on the eve of Israel’s independence, they handed their arms over to the Arabs, not the Jews. In fact, it was British intelligence that convinced the Arabs to invade in 1948.

At one point in 1949, the British even considered invading the State of Israel to protect their own interests in Egypt.

In conclusion:

Before the British even set foot in Palestine, they had made contradictory promises of sovereignty to Jews, Arabs, and other Middle Eastern minorities.

However, by the time that the British actually were in Palestine, they actively did everything they possibly could to appease the Arabs, thus working to prevent the establishment of a Jewish state.

Had a Jewish state not become a reality in spite of the British, the Balfour Declaration would have long been forgotten, just like the unfulfilled promises the British made to the Assyrians and Kurds.

The fact of the matter is that virtually every border in the Middle East was carved up by the British and French, yet only the Jewish state is delegitimized on that basis. In fact, some countries were invented by the British entirely. For example, the British aided in the creation of Saudi Arabia by funding and supporting the Al Saud family, which, with their help, came to dominate a large chunk of the Arabian Peninsula. The British quite literally invented Iraq when they created the Mandate of Iraq in 1921 in part of what had long been known as other regions, including Assyria, Mesopotamia, and Babylonia. And, of course, the British created Jordan when they handed an enormous piece of the Mandate of Palestine over to the Hashemites in 1922. The Hashemites are from Arabia, not Transjordan.

For a full bibliography of my sources, please head over to my Instagram

rootsmetals

EDIT - 1948 slide - partition vote was in 1947! Sorry typo 😅

the British put Jewish children (Holocaust survivors!!!!) in concentration camps to appease the Palestinian Arab leaders, but the BaLfOuR dEcLaRaTiOn, right? 🙄 Crazy how certain people think it’s totally fine to whitewash this horrid history when this whitewashing comes at the expense of Jews and Jewish trauma. Genuinely wondering if you’d treat another minority’s history like this.

[babelrevived]

Are you fr about silco being a hero?

silco.. The one who's responsible for the usage of shimmer, caused and worsened jinx's mentality, and also kidnaps children and forces them into those shimmered machines to fight the upsiders. Like we get it you like him, but you don't have to delude yourself about his morals and straight up consider him a hero when he's the enabler for the majority of the problems

ya. To be clear my list is not about who has the best morals, it’s about who is the villain and who is the hero, which in this case depends more on ideology than morality because this is a show centered on themes of class division and colonialism. If I was making a list on who’s the most moral, Ekko would be white, Viktor would be light gray, and everyone else would be dark gray/black. Also I’m not defending Silco’s actions because I like him, its the other way around I like him because of his actions lol.

“The one who's responsible for the usage of shimmer” ok and shimmer is also shown to be the backbone of Zaun’s economy, they would literally be living in even worse poverty than they already are without it, since Piltover stopped relying on their mines when they got the hexgates. Silco industrializing Zaun is a good thing idc.

Tbh when I first watched the show I didn’t like the shimmer plot line at all cuz I thought it made no sense and that it was only there to villainize resistance fighters/revolutionaries (it is) but I remember someone on here made a really good point on how shimmer reflects the fact that being oppressed just doesn’t leave you with any good options. And usually the options are 1. Do nothing and slowly watch everyone around you die due to the miserable conditions you are forced to live in, or 2. Do something radical and extreme that will no doubt get a lot of people killed, but in the end you will have a chance to get your freedom, to get a better future. There is no magical solution to end the effects of oppression and colonialism, the scars will always be there and they won’t go away, not until generations and generations pass at least. Anyway back to Zaun. Honestly, if you look at it from their perspective, shimmer was their only choice. Gave them an economy, medicine, weaponry, etc. It wasnt all good of course but, again, that’s exactly the point. And it isn’t Silco’s fault because he never would have had to use it if it wasn’t for Piltover’s oppression. He says it himself when he was talking to Vander; finally they have something to realize their dream, to tip the scales on their side.

“caused and worsened jinx's mentality” No I’m pretty sure being on the bridge when she was like 6 and watching enforcers kill people, including her parents, is what caused her “mentality” and accidentally killing her whole family and being “abandoned” by her sister is what worsened it. Ok I’m not going to say that their relationship was healthy or good, by all means it wasn’t, BUT I think Silco was good for Jinx in a way that he kind of knew how to deal with her trauma because he has had a similar experience. I can definitely see Jinx being in a much worse state if it wasn’t for him. Although of course the way he dealt with his trauma was far from perfect, and with his mentality he ended up (unintentionally) preventing Jinx from moving on from her trauma. Sucks to say it but I think him dying at that point was the best thing that could have happened to her. I can imagine him being very awful if he did survive lol.

“and also kidnaps children and forces them into those shimmered machines to fight the upsiders” girl we’re just making shit up now ROFL

“he's the enabler for the majority of the problems” No, he is not. And if he didn’t exist then there would have been another Silco to take his place. Because Silco doesn’t exist in a vacuum, his environment (that Piltover created) is what caused him to be the way that he was. He was a monster and felt the need to become a monster because he was forced to grow up in monstrous conditions. Yk “if the environment shapes humanity then the environment must be made human”. Basically, no Silco was not the cause of the problems, Piltover was. And that’s the real tragedy of Arcane; none of these personal problems between the Zaunite characters at least would exist if it wasn’t for Piltover’s oppression. And Jinx knew that, and that’s why she bombed the council. Not to avenge Silco and not as an act of revolution. She did it simply because it is what they deserved, for better or for worse.

[pink-onyx-au]

Community Translation Campaign

All who help will be credited in the final results.

So many people have offered to help that I just had to come up with an idea to make it easier on everyone, even to offer ways to work together. So, here is the plan!

The English for the episode is posted here, in order, for you to read. State which language you’re using, and donate as many words as you like to the project! When a language has a complete translation and is double-checked, I can take care of the editing. Thank you to everyone! 🧡💕❤️

Words to clarify intention or clarity in the statement that were not said within the dialog of the comic will be presented (like this) to better help translations. Any questions, just post and I will get back to you as best as I can!

Episode 1 - Antipathy (English Script)

If it matters in your language, Steven is masculine-form grammar. Jasper is feminine-form grammar. The Diamonds (not Steven) are feminine-form grammar.

Steven: No. I’m sorry. Where is- Jasper, I (‘m sorry) I can’t find (her) It has to be here. It is here somewhere. I have been holding (myself) back!

I have to do something about this.

Steven: Jasper. Please. I want to talk

Jasper. What is it, my diamond?

Steven: Please! I just want to talk. As equals. Please…

Jasper: In order to do that, you’ll have to get on the dirt (or ground). Now that you’re down here with the dust, what do you want to talk about?

Steven: I can’t sleep. So much has happened since- my meltdown. Everyone is hovering over me every hour of the day, but, I need to apologize for how I acted that day. You were just trying to help me, and I did the worst possible thing (to you).

Jasper: I told you before, don’t apologize!

Steven: Why?

Jasper: I wanted to see the full extent of your power, and I got my answer. You let yourself go. That’s what I wanted.

Steven; But jasper, I- (shattered you)

Jasper: Shattered me? Why does that bother you?

Steven: Why doesn’t it bother you

Jasper: Soldiers are shattered (killed) all the time, Steven. It’s why we are made. To win, and replace. That’s why the one thing I don’t understand - is why you brought me back (revived me) after you got what you wanted.

Steven: "What I wanted!?" I- I didn’t want to shatter you! It was a mistake!

Jasper: The moment a gem is permitted to act to their fullest is when they show what they really want. It is absolute. From pebble to diamond

You may say you didn’t want to shatter me, but based on the look in your eyes, something did.

Steven: I-I don’t know what that was! I mean, I do now but I-

Jasper: You don’t understand it, so you came here. Just like last time. Why do you keep coming back here to find answers? That the only thing I’m good for to you? Told me yourself you want to high to do with me otherwise.

Steven: No! No. It’s not that. You’re… just the furthest thing from what I know about my world. And you act like that’s normal for you. So when nothing in my world makes sense, it just makes sense to come here.

Jasper: Well, at least we agree on one thing.

Steven: What do you mean?

Jasper: My world doesn’t make any sense to me anymore, either. Nothing my diamond has done makes sense to me anymore. Start a colony just to preserve it? Start a war just to lose it? Die to become(be reborn) as you? I was made to win a gem-war for a diamond with power so destructive that the other diamonds hesitated to give her a colony in the first place. A diamond with so much strength that a word from her could shatter. The closest you ever came to making sense to me is the day you finally cut loose. Then, like everything else, your colony, your court, your status, your form, you tossed me aside and moved onto the next thing. Told me to ‘find something better to do with my life’ when my whole life has been fighting for you, my diamond.

Steven: Jasper I-I’m, I’m sorry

Jasper: Stars ("god";swear form), shut up with that! You did what you wanted every second you’ve been out of the dirt!even this human form! Even being here right now! Until you get that, this conversation is going to be a waste of both of our time!

Steven: I-I just.. I’ve done such a horrible thing, and I can’t sleep because it keeps replaying, and each time I see it, it scares me to death because I hate how good it feels.

Jasper: Come (with me). If you’re going to start this, then we’re doing it out here. I don’t want me den destroyed. Listen carefully, Steven. Is this what you want?

Steven: No.

Jasper: Then focus on what you want.

Steven: I don’t want to hurt you

Jasper: Then calm down!

Steven: Sorry. How are you okay with what I did to you?

Jasper: Honestly, Steven, I don’t know why you aren’t (okay with it). I don’t throw a punch without intent to hit something. Let alone regret it after the fact. You’re just going to have to live with the idea that we will not understand one another.

Steven: I want to though! That- that is what I want.

Jasper: And how do you intend to get that? by coming here and begging for answers I don’t have?

Steven: Maybe there is a way, but, I-I have a way. That we can both get answers. If you want answers. Also.

Jasper: Go on.

Steven: Maybe if we feel what it’s like to be each other

Jasper: What are you implying?

Steven; Ah, I’m implying! That we could fuse, if you wanted to do that. Too. Maybe?

Jasper: That was the most pathetic request to fuse I’ve ever heard. I am not fusing with someone who whimpers like some under-cooked pebble. So, if that’s what you really want, show me you have the guts to take it!

Steven: Fine, jasper. Then, As your Diamond: Fuse with me

Jasper: Much better!

Jasper: Should have known you were full of dirt ("shit";swear)

Steven: I don’t know what happened. I’m usually good at (doing) this.

Jasper: You ran (away)!

Steven: No I, I think something poofed us.

Jasper: Well, it wasn’t me! So, whatever that was and to come from you!

Steven: It’s going to be ok. We do this together next time.

Steven: I have an idea but, I need some time to prepare. I’ll be back tomorrow right at dusk. It will give us the whole night.

Jasper: You’re kidding me. You issued a diamond-order and now you’re leaving me behind again? Seriously?

Steven: I know. I’m sorry. One last time, then I’ll make sure this works. I promise.

[samgirl98]

Wail of the Silent 10/?

Prev | Next

CW: Brief mention of suicide

Bruce cursed as he hit another pothole. That had been the fifteenth one in ten minutes. A newspaper covered his view, causing him to slow down as he tried to remove it with the windshield. When was the last time he even saw someone reading newspapers? It was almost as if the city was out to get him. He would even believe it if it weren’t for the fact that it would be illogical. After all, cities weren’t sentient.

He braked suddenly as a colony of bats danced in front of the car. Bruce gritted his teeth. He didn’t have time for this; he had to find his son! He reversed and entered an alley; his windshield was full of guano. The alley kept getting narrower and narrower until he had to reverse again and go back where he came from. The bats had, thankfully, disappeared.

Bruce radioed Dick, “Did you find him?”

“Nothing at this safe house.”

Bruce grunted a response and hung up.

He and Dick had decided to split up to look for Jason at his safehouses. Dick had investigated while Bruce had composed himself after the emotional attack. The only thing Dick had found was a glowing green laser gun.  

“Is it just me, or does it feel like something is trying to stop us from getting to Jason? I went through a shortcut cut off by a random wall,” Dick asked.

Bruce was about to answer when the heavens decided to open up, making it impossible to see where he was going. Bruce’s fist tightened on the wheel as he slowed down. He was getting closer to the last safe house.

“Oh c’mon,” Dick said, “Why now? I was close to meeting up with you at his last safe house. This cannot be a coincidence.”

Dick was right; all these random things didn���t feel like coincidences. The ghost, spirit, or whatever had kidnapped Jason could be behind this so that Bruce couldn’t get to his son. Whatever the case, Bruce was going to save Jason.

____

Jason woke up from the best nap he had ever had.

His head was on top of something solid and cool. He could feel a soft humming.

Jason opened his eyes and gave a soundless yawn. Danny was fast asleep, snoring softly. Jason smiled and stretched. His body was pleasantly sore. He stared at Danny for a few more seconds before getting up. He went to the bathroom to wipe himself down with a damp towel, too lazy to shower, put on a pair of boxers and got back into bed.

He rested his head on the crook of Danny’s arm and put his leg on top of Danny’s. He wanted cuddles, damn it. After the horrible night he had followed by the best of his life, Jason thought he deserved it.

Danny tightened his hold on Jason and put his other arm around Jason’s shoulder. Jason felt his breath get stuck. Danny was so pretty…and so much bigger than Jason. Who knew he would like to be manhandled?

“Everything good,” Danny asked. Jason nodded and got more comfortable in Danny’s arms. He started purring in contentment, surprised he was making that sound. He blushed a bit at Danny’s soft laugh.

Then Danny started purring, and it felt less awkward. The soft purrs lulled Jason back to sleep.

____

Dick entered after Bruce.

He hoped they found Jason in his last safe house. It took a while to find and look through them all. Dick felt he was going crazy the longer he didn’t see his younger brother.

When Bruce had called him freaking out, Dick felt a stone sink to the bottom of his stomach. It was so unlike Bruce to let his emotions get the best of him. When he had joined Bruce, the older man had told Dick what had happened. Dick looked through the grainy footage (which in itself was strange as Bruce used the latest state-of-the-art technology) and watched as Jason fought a black mass, Penelope Spectra, and then put a gun to his head. And that was before a glowing humanoid shape had kidnapped him.

Bruce had told Dick how Spectra had messed with his emotions until he had been a wreck full of misery.  

Dick had to find Jason and make sure he was alright. What if they were too late and Jason had put a bullet through his hea—no, he couldn’t think that way.

Dick ignored the uncomfortable feeling of his wet suit and entered the safe house. It was dark and quiet.

Both Dick and Bruce looked at each other and started searching. They only found an empty living room with clippings on the coffee table and two China cups. Dick was confused. Who else was here with Jason? His younger brother was a loner.

Bruce stared at the cups before reading one of the clippings. It was a printed report of one of the suicides from Arkham. It seemed Bruce wasn’t the only one interested in what was happening in the asylum.

Dick looked around the living room one more time before heading upstairs. The first door he opened was to a room that Dick guessed was Jason’s HQ. There were computers and wrappers all over the place. The next was the bathroom.

Dick only had one more door to look through. He opened the door to find his little brother, but he wasn’t alone.

Dun dun-dun. Drama is about to happen. Dick and Bruce are going to be so surprised.

Sorry for the short chapter. I have no idea when I'll update again, but I'll try not to make you guys wait for so long.

[kathunim]

I recently realised why I feel bothered by people analysing Minecraft trying to figure out what it's lore is and stuff, aswell as the posts especially on here claiming the game to glorify colonialism. (That's a real take, I can't believe that's the state of terminally online we're at.)

And that is, that Minecraft was never meant to be a "real" thing.

There's that really old post by notch back when he wasn't brain scorched by right wing bullshit and whatever else happened to him:

(source)

And I still think about it a lot because it shows such a wonderful view of the game that Mojang has very much started to lose over the years, though this isn't directly about that.

What I'm trying to get at however, is that in regards to this post it doesn't seem like Minecraft's intent was ever to represent real things or try and build itself on the basis of anything "real".

What I mean by that is, the cows have udders and horns because cows do have those things, Steve is just a human just like alex, even if people immediately decided they fit the binary.

This logic also fits surprisingly well onto the rest of the game if you think about it; jungles have temples because in real life there's plenty of those and in fiction it's a trope, same with desert temples.

Deserts rarely have wells everyone makes fun of for being useless (I know there's suspicious sand there now not the point) but if you think about it, a well in the desert makes sense that's where I'd say it fits in!

And the entire game works that way, stuff exists because that's what you get when you average out a lot of things and just do what comes out of that process.

Is the jungle temple based on any culture? Is the desert temple? I don't know, I'm not knowledgeable in that kinda thing but from what I've seen people say it doesn't fit anything in particular so again, platonic default of the structure.

The ancient city goes away from that more, same with everything else from other dimensions but hey that's just Minecraft doing unique things, for all we know those are all the platonic default to a parallel world where there's a dimension with endermen and tall purple and yellow cities!

And this is where the thing about colonization comes in, and where I feel like I'm opening myself up for a lot of scrutiny and malicious misinterpretation by saying this:

Minecraft isn't about colonization. Yes you can raid villages and "enslave" them in trading halls or whatever that dumb post said, you can show up at "uncharted lands" and raid shit, but that's a ridiculous fucking take and you know it.

Is Link problematic for walking in people's homes and smashing their pots, no of course not that's outlandish.

You CAN make villager trade halls if you want but as far as the game is concerned it's just something you can do because the world is your oyster, if you choose to be fucked up with that freedom is your call.

And if you let that worm in your brain you'll find issues everywhere, and realistically you just sound like those theorists making up shit like the rugrats being a hallucination or something.

Anyway. Lost track a little. A village in the most platonic default game sense is a place with people you can talk to or trade with, that you can help or exploit, and that tends to have goodies to find regardless of being inhabited or not.

There's other genuine critiques to be had about this game but a lot of the essence I've described here is stuff that's been in the core of the game since the beginning, before notch lost it.

You can analyse the world and try to figure out what happened to it, I'm not saying you shouldn't because who's being harmed! However, I am saying that maybe it doesn't need to have this depth and lore and whatever to it because it was never about that, and the game (at least used to) try it's best to avoid solid confirmations and consistencies.

[sane-human]

I've been trying to find a civilization to look at most to tell the story of the Bronze age , and after some thinking I decided to put Ancient Egypt as a protagonis, since it is one of the civilizations that survived the Bronze Age collapse (others that survive are the Assyria , Elam and Phoenicians city states) and would connects to the Iron Age well in my opinion...

I want to have a "protagonist" or history for each era , based on who did the most change on the known world or fits better (like Egypt surviving) , but of course still taking into account the entire world too since it wasn't as connected as later modern times!

I also do like Mycenaean Greece and Sumer tho aaa ;v;

Anyways here's some rambles!

// I'll put Egypt as protagonist of the Bronze age, as in the two kingdoms and the the unified Egypt!

(3300-1200 BC)

//For the Iron Age I think the Greeks would fit better to tell!

(1200-500 BC) togheter in later stages with:

//The Romans for Classical Antiquity.

(700 BC - 400 AC (476) )

//Later Christianity for the middle ages (best)

(400 (476) - 1000 //first part//)

( 1000- 1450ish //second part)

//For the Renaissance I think it would be "Italy" (Maybe Florence??) following around the France Kingdom ,kindom of Englad, Portugual and the Spainsh empire learning the old ways and sailing around, or just going around Europe and stuff...

(1400ish- 1500ish)

//After comes the Age of Reason (or Enlightenment) (+ "Golden Age of piracy" + "Age of Dyscovery") and I think this would fit best for the duo of the France kingdom/ later France Repubblic/ empire and the Kingdom of England/ later the United Kindom + Spain and Portugual maybe as a second duo? A lot of things happen in here so I shall think it better...Like there is also the colonies, maybe that can be devided as two main points of view and then sub divisions depending on the colonial power at play.

(Also what the heck was going on in Asia during this period I have no clue...China domination?? I need some good books about that...)

(1685- 1815)

//For the Romanticism era I think would fit France most!

On the same level there would be the Industrial revolution , and that I think would fit the UK more!

(19th century- 1914)

Then there is the Great war and the modern things that I'll just do in my other blog as it is more detailed and recent!

Anyways I'm studying the Mionian Civilization now so... yeah a long way to go! But very fun! :D

When I have a pretty good understanding of the Bronze age and Iron age I'll start the asks again , I know some classical antiquity already and the middle ages too so I just need to study these two well to connect better later!!

I may alter these views after as I study more but for now this is a general plan!

Also I'll work on the languages and details about family links with cultures/people/kingdoms/Nations ect ((Languages connections are hard! ;v; but there is more to language to a nation like culture and history (I know wow), also there is difference between a nation and a state! So I'll try to work on that too))

[cozzzynook]

Thought of something wholesome.

Rodimus and the crew are visiting a cybertron colony for supplies and to get some free time off the ship. While out exploreing Rodimus hears the sound of whimpering coming from a den in the ground. He finds 2 young turbo fox puppies who see him and they began barking and following him.

Roddy tries to shoo them back into their den knowing their pack can't be far but the pups won't leave him alone. Later on he returns to the ship followed by the 2 pups and begs Minimus to help him out and try to find the pups pack so they can go home.

Meanwhile Roddy is playing babysitter while trying his best not to get attached, but its difficult with how cute the pups are.

Dnjcksofjdowf 😭

I love this so much.

Okay soooo i’m gonna turn this into something a little different and i’m sorry in advance if this isn’t what you were looking for.

-

Rodimus thinks these turbo foxes are only foxes and so he doesn’t want to touch or go near them for fear their pack will return and reject them. But he can’t just leave two fresh, no metallico, protoform exposed turbo foxes that look so cold and hungry. They’re shaking and so tiny and he can’t feel their creators em fields nor does he see any signs of life other than the two before him. He can’t feel the warmth a creator leaves behind for their sparkling and he can see the bones on their little ribs.

So he coms Minimus telling him to hurry its an emergency and when the mech gets there he’s completely shocked to find two turbo foxes that are abandoned.

He tells Rodimus as such which hurts his spark to no end but now it means he can carefully scoop the palm sized sparklings into his servos and hold them close to his chassis and use his outlier to warm them. They stop shivering and their whimpers and cries turn to coos and soft whining chirps as they nuzzle against Rodimus’s chassis making the mech blush as he quickly turns before his plating opens to reveal two pouches with nozzles that were beginning to tingle as his carrier coding activated to produce energon milk.

Minimus was a blushing mess as he realized what was happening and covered his optics ever the gentlemech even if he couldn’t see anything. The mech cleared his throat after a moment and peaked through his digits when he realized things were quiet for a flick too long.

“Captain?”

“They’re…fueling,” Rodimus was clearly embarrassed and his raised shoulder struts showed how tense he was.

“There is nothing to be ashamed of captain. Carriers are a vital necessity every bot needs, tank forged or spark chamber forged. Even hot spot sparklings thrive when having a carrier.”

“I..thanks Minimus..umm I’ll join you back at the ship when they’re done..for now please keep the others from coming over. I’d rather no one-no one else knows. From there we can find someone willing to take them in.”

Minimus gave a saddened expression but nodded though his captain could not see it.

“Very well captain.”

With that Minimus took his leave and Rodimus sighed dropping his shoulders with a glance at the two sparklings attached to his nozzles suckling greedily.

“I’ll need Ratchet to take a look at you two,” he mused aloud. He felt the two start to warm from within their own frames and he smiled. They were strong little ones, he can admit.

They’d make their new creators happy.

He felt them slowing in their fueling and began the trek back to the ship. By the time he got there he’d closed his chassis plating with great difficulty now that they’ve doubled in size for the two and he went straight to the medbay where he gave the sparklings to Ratchet.

…only for them to begin crying and yelling to the point they almost purged and he had to hold them while Ratchet began examining and taking care of them. They were given vaccines and anti-virals that Ratchet also gave to Rodimus who came in contact with them.

Ratchet declared them fresh sparks as he already knew and stated they showed signs of being able to transform. He was a bit surprised by that and wondered if thats why their creators abandoned them.

“So, what are ya naming em?”

“Me? No. No no no no no no. I’m just doing this so they don’t cry and get sick. Someone else is raising them.”

Ratchet gave him a disbelieving look and he huffed.

“I’m not meant to have sparklings, not my thing,” he shook his helm missing the sad look Ratchet gave him.

“Kid-”

“No.”

Rodimus stood and looked towards the sparkling berths, “I’ll see you and Drift later. I have paperwork to fill out and an adoption placement to announce.”

With that Rodimus set the sparklings down that were asleep and rushed out before they could wake.

Ratchet just sighed but kept quiet, silently messaging Drift and sending an optic vid of the two sparklings he just knew would end up being theirs.

Drift seemed to hold the same sentiment seeing as the moment his shift was over he came running into the medbay bouncing on his pedes at the sight of the two.

Ratchet hushed him whispering about how they most likely only want Rodimus who he’s sure they imprinted on. He’s proven right when the sparklings whine and push their fists out. Wiggling in their pods until they let that first cry out that makes the two stiffen before it builds and suddenly the twin sparklings are full on crying for a mech who wasn’t there.

Ratchet and Drift tries calming the sparklings down but all their efforts got them were two whimpering sparklings with adorably sad faces rubbing their helms into chassis that couldn’t give them what they needed.

Ratchet was just about to comm Rodimus when said mech rushed into the medbay looking straight at the twin sparklings and scurrying over.

“Shh, its okay,” Rodimus picked up the sparkling that was an odd shade of orange since they were more upset. He shifted them and took the other sparkling with an odd tone of white into his arms and the immediate quiet that followed made the two’s jaw hang.

Rodimus didn’t really pay them much attention until he was about to open his chassis.

“I’m..gonna go in the other room. I’ll bring them back once they’re full.”

“Oh no ya don’t kid. They’re coming to our room. They won’t have a lick of sleep without you nearby and I won’t have my medics at wits end because those two bitties are attached to you.”

Rodimus wanted to argue, he really did, but he couldn’t. Because he knew Ratchet was telling the truth and Drift’s sympathetic look told him he agreed.

Without a word he turned on his heel and made his way back to their hab. The two followed behind with a tense silence that Ratchet was pouting over while Drift looked worried.

“Roddy, you know it’s okay to want them, right?”

Ratchet locked the door behind them turning on the hab silencer so if this turned into a screaming match no one would be the wiser.

“Here we go,” he sighed quietly as he turned and put on a neutral face that didn’t look at all convincing. Rodimus looked to be preparing for a verbal brawl as all his feelings, insecurities and frustration came bubbling to the surface when it deflated at the sparklings whimpering.

With a frame sigh Rodimus shook his helm and turned heading to one of the spare rooms when Ratchet grabbed him by the shoulders making and pulled him into their berth room.

“Absolutely not kid. Stubborn pride needs to get put aside. Yer a carrier and ya gotta fuel em, so I know you know that means it has to be somewhere comfortable and familiar for their benefit and yours. The first can be excused since they were starved. But now ya need ta make sure its here in yer nest.”

Ratchet finished his scoldings missing the look on Rodimus’s face, but Drift, he didn’t.

“I’ll feed them you can go back out,” Rodimus told them as he looked away, optics shutting as he slightly swayed the sparklings to keep them from crying again.

He wasn’t blind to what was happening. He just didn’t want it to be true.

He knew it as well as Ratchet knew.

A bond had formed the moment he fed them. He felt their distress all the way in his office and had come running. Even now he feels their uncertainty and need for comfort and the hunger that accompanies fear. Their lack of proper care and fuel so early in life would greatly affect them and he knew Ratchet was right. The sparklings needed a carrier who was in a safe place and that meant mentally, physically and emotionally. A nest was the perfect source of comfort, Rodimus just didn’t want the sparklings imprinting on him because he was afraid to raise them. Afraid to hurt or misguide them. He didn’t want to frag them up like he’d be fragged up as a sparkling.

“Roddy..don’t push us away,” Drift stood closer while Ratchet glared before going up to Rodimus and placing his servos on Rodimus chassis.

He moved slow enough to give Rodimus time to say no and when he didn’t the medic removed the covering with a blush on his frowning face.

Rodimus never showed his pouches unless it was for medical purposes. Since he was a carrier his looked like breasts many organics had instead of cyber tissue with small ducts for energon. It’s something considered a malfunction to their species. Ratchet and Drift didn’t like that line of code and made sure to reassure Rodimus they loved all of him.

Rodimus didn’t really think they did and he still doubted they would find him attractive once seeing the parts of himself he kept hidden.

Now wasn’t the time to hide though.

Not when the sparklings needed fuel.

He held them up to his pouches and ignored the way Drift and Ratchet watched him fuel the two. He didn’t like anyone knowing he could do this or seeing him in such a vulnerable state but the two were adamant and pushed every time he tried to close himself off. They never allowed his insecure boundaries ground to grow further.

A servo cupping his helm made him shift to look Drifts direction but he was surprised to have his face plates turned the other way and lifted to see Ratchet looking at him the way he gazed at Drift.

“Don’t,” he forced out only to be ignored. That hot grip in his chassis being exposed as Ratchet came beside him and wrapped his arm around his waist. Being held was a weakness, a weakness he couldn’t help whining pathetically at.

“Kid..its nothin wrong with ya. Its nothin wrong wit keepin tha sparklings either. We meant it when we told ya we love ya. All of ya kid, tank carrier and all,” Ratchet spoke in a low gravel, the one that made his shoulders drop and his optics wet.

He closed them and nodded.

He was not about to cry in front of them again.

Drift had other ideas of course, reaching an arm across Roddy’s back to touch Ratchet and kiss his helm before settling and lulling him closer so all three were cuddled close, he kissed Roddy’s helm flare before placing a palm onto Roddy’s pouch that was truly just a breast that jiggled slightly at the touch.

He pushed two digits into Roddy’s upper chest and circled, helping the milk flow better and soothing the ache of his spark that he didn’t notice flicker.

“We want this with you, a conjunx ritus and family,” Roddy didn’t jerk away when Ratchet did a small manual soothing tactic on his spark that glowed just below his breasts and he didn’t flinch away when Drift shifted his helm so they could rest together.

Communicating emotions in an ebb and flow that made tears fall.

“Let us have this, let yourself have this,” was spoken without the need of verbal words.

He nodded his helm still nervous and unsure but he would trust them and do this.

He would trust them.

He would trust them.

The soft whimpers coming from the crib Drift built woke Rodimus from recharge and he yawned looking at the time. It was late into the night and he carefully shifted away from Drift and Ratchet.

He didn’t want to wake them especially when they had such a long shift earlier.

He quietly went to the crib and smiled at Ginger who was the exact shade of her name before glancing at Wicker who was the same shade as his name. He’d ended up getting darker as he got more energon and time passed just like his sister Ginger.

The two were wiggling in their cribs and he stifled a giggle, careful as he lifted both of them and left the berth room, closing the door silently as he made his way to the living den.

About a month after having them and all three bonded with them making the twins their sparklings, they were able to transformer into root mode. The very first time they did so it worried and scared them because they were feverish and fussy for days on end and medicine was not working.

Minimus was thankfully able to inform them that they were finally healthy enough to transform into a root mode and the process was a bit painful but it hopefully should not take longer than a week.

They were extremely thankful the twins changed two days later in the early morning before Drift and Ratchet left for their shifts.

The sight was scary at first seeing the twins twist and cry, not knowing that the process would involve energon blood for their first transformation. Rodimus had almost had a spark attack at the sight and Ratchet was thankfully able to stop it before it actually happened.

He remembers apologizing so much after calming down while fretting over the twins to the point Drift just burst out laughing making the twins shift adorably and look at him. That got Rodimus to stop fretting and apologizing and it made Ratchet laugh a little too especially when the twins kicked their little legs out and waved their little arms for the first time.

They immediately made so many vids and image captures they had to delete a lot of them and upload the important ones to an outside image capture.

He shifted, carefully swaddling the two tiny bitties in his arms to latch onto his already exposed pouches. Watching as they latched on with intakes so different than the first time he’d fed them. Pictures of Ginger and Wicker littered the walls of their living den watching as he smiled softly at the two who blinked with bleary optics that were still far too underdeveloped from age alone to really see anything aside from color.

Their bitties had a far better sense of smell than non mechanimal sparklings making it so much easier for the twins to know which of their creators was coming towards. It calmed them faster and made it easier for them to become familiar with their sires who loved doing things just holding them. Ratchet loved doing paperwork with the twins in his lap and Drift found meditating with the twins resting in a sling far more relaxing.

Of course Ginger and Wicker decided they should wiggle and coo the most with their carrier and make things a little harder for him to do aside from giving them all his attention. They would coo loudly until he stopped what he was doing and pull them from their swaddle and cradle them in his arms just as he was now.

He couldn’t help himself, he turned making sure he was alone and turned back, smiling at the two who stole his spark when he wanted to keep this part of himself locked.

“Shine comes the midnight star

dancin for the wind below

that stills to sees its beauty.”

He sang the old Nyonian lullaby softly, watching as Wicker gripped onto his pouch with a tiny servo as Ginger did the same. They often clung to him, he was sure it was because they knew he was a food source but when they cried for him even after fueling he felt uncontrolled appreciation and love crash through him.

That same emotion threatened to reach the surface as he sat there a few kliks longer, waiting until they finished so he could shift them to a better burping position. He’d long found a good way to do this and he was grateful since he didn’t want to put either of them down, at least not yet.

He was happy they made clearing their windpipes easy for him, they always gave Drift a hard time for some reason. Ratchet’s medical training prevented him from struggling and hearing him fondly grouch as they tried and failed to get him was always spark warming.

Just like the sight of him slowly rocking the twins in his arms who were trying to fight their sleep to look at their carrier just a bit longer, was the sight Drift and Ratchet loved being able to see.

“Not fair Roddy, you had them all day. We could’ve gotten them while you were sleeping,” Drift bent down to nuzzle his finial against Rodimus’s flare and Ratchet stood close to his family watching as the twins fell asleep with their servos curled around Rodimus pouches.

He was glad the kid finally felt comfortable around them and he was ecstatic about taking one of the twins from Rodimus as Drift took the other.

“Come on kid, lets head back to berth,” when they all shuffled back into the room Rodimus was apologizing for not keeping quiet enough.

“You guys worked all day it was only right I let you sleep in,” Ratchet flicked his forhelm for saying that without taking his opics off Ginger as he lowered her back into the crib.

Drift was slower to pit Wicker back since the bitty had a good grip on him and none of them wanted the bitties to wake up.

“You would’ve had to wake me up anyway to fuel them so plus I like being able to do things for you. Sleeping in is one of them,” Rodimus laughed quietly, slipping into berth and curling his own berth sheet around himself as Drift and Ratchet shared one.

They all curled into berth close to each other, Ratchet grouching at Rodimus that he worked all day too while taking care of their sparklings another job in itself so he should wake them next time.

It was a moot point Drift tells the medic as such seeing as they know their flame spark won’t.

Ratchet grumbles but he loves how thoughtful Roddy tries to be even at the cost of his own sleep, it makes Drift smile because when he looks up a little he can see Rodimus is already knocked out cold and Ratchet is just content to watch him before turning to kiss the swords mech.

“Don’t be all mushy until I have my morning oil,” Ratchets already beat the mech to it with a muffled laugh. Drift decides to indulge him, though he’ll be extra mushy in the morning to make up for lost time.

“Goodnight ratty,” he pressed their helms together. They would shift in their sleep but that was fine. They had this for now.

“Goodnight sweet spark.”

“Softie,” Drift smiled.

“Don’t push it,” Ratchet snapped softly with a tired yawn.

[mermaidsirennikita]

Hi, can you rec some books where hero is or was a soldier but not like colonialism or they go to colonised countries and learn wild sex over there or something. It feels very insulting that after going there these are the only two things you've learned.

Basically nothing like Evie Dunmore's A Rogue of One's Own or Jennifer Ashley's The Seduction of Elliott McBride (which was a shme since I love Jennifer Ashley)

Thanks!

Honestly, it's hard to find. I really hate the Elliot McBride book (and the Evie Dunmore book) and unfortunately that's how a LOT of those books handle war.

I hope you don't mind me publishing this, because I have more than I thought and I think it's valuable (?). Thank you for asking!

Love in the Afternoon by Lisa Kleypas. This isn't one of my favorite Kleypases, personally, but it's very beloved and it's a good romance—Christopher Phelan is a very stern, responsible hero and while I can't be sure, I really don't think he was out there fucking around.

A Lady for a Duke by Alexis Hall. The hero of this book is a Waterloo veteran who developed a laudanum addiction to deal with his chronic pain and his PTSD (specifically the loss of his best friend, who turned out to be a trans woman and used Waterloo to fake her death and transition—she's the heroine of the novel).

Rules for Engaging the Earl by Janna MacGregor. The hero of this book is a veteran who deals with chronic pain/uses a cane. He marries the heroine, his childhood friend, to give her child a name as it turns out her late husband was a bigamist, which leaves her pregnant technically out of wedlock.

Heartless by Anne Stuart has a veteran hero developed various addictions to cope with his PTSD. This led to him being cared for by the heroine, and they developed a bond, but due to his mental state he doesn't remember her initially when they reunite years later (after which she, a former madame, befriended his sister and became a doctor). He's definitely a lighter type of Anne Stuart hero, but the edge comes out lol

Lord of Ice by Gaelen Foley. Another one where the hero was massively PTSD-ridden; he suffers from intense flashbacks and loses his sense of where he is. The heroine is his ward, but they meet before they realize this and make out, so he's been triggered, the attraction is there, no matter how hard he tries to fight it. Also, she does basically cure his PTSD with a blow job, but it's fine and I support it

The Will Darling Adventures by KJ Charles. Interconnected (must be read in order) trilogy, m/m, Will Darling is a World War I veteran who's dealing with both the reality of what he went through and the fact that, though he's a good person, he's quite good at violence as well. Enter: aristo Kim, a former Bolshevik and spy who gets Will into a lot of trouble because a man will go to a lot of places when the mouth is that good.

After Dark with the Duke by Julie Anne Long. War hero retires to an inn to write his memoirs, only to come to verbal blows with a much younger, scandalous opera singer. He offends her, and has to make up for it by teaching her Italian, which naturally leads to sex and also love.

The Beast Takes a Bride by Julie Anne Long. The male lead is a famed war hero who married the heroine, then promptly fucked off for five years after an Incident occurred on their wedding night. He returns because he's about to receive a title for his acts of courage, and they basically agree to play nice for the reporters until that happens, after which she can go off to her own house and they'll be effectively separated for the rest of their lives. I'm sure that will work great.

A Nobleman's Guide to Seducing a Scoundrel by KJ Charles. M/M, the veteran hero is a very classic soldier type who unexpectedly turns out to be the heir to a title. He hires the other hero as his secretary to help him try to evade the relatives attempting to oust him; some boss/employee shenanigans ensue.

Through the Storm by Beverly Jenkins. The hero is a Union soldier, and he and the heroine meet during the war; he ends up believing she betrayed him (it's more complicated than that) and is pissed when they reunite sometime later, but through a series of issues he has to marry her, and, welllll

Forbidden by Beverly Jenkins. The hero of this novel (who appears in the above novel as well) was also a soldier, and used the war as an opportunity to essentially take on a new identity as a white man (he's mixed race; his mother was enslaved by the man who fathered him). It's set in the west, and the heroine is a Black woman who's come to town to sort of start over, and they connect and begin to fall in love... but she believes he's white, which would keep them from being together; and he knows that in order to be with her, he'll have to stop passing, which will put him at huge risk and upend his life.

Waiting for a Scot Like You by Eva Leigh. The hero of this book is a Scottish veteran who's very bossy and gruff, and the heroine is a recent widow he's escorting across the country so that she can attend this orgy now that her lame husband is dead. Notably, he's mid-thirties and she's late-forties.

Since the Surrender by Julie Anne Long. The hero in this one served under the heroine's dead husband. They shared a kiss while her husband was alive before he got moved to a different regiment or something due to the tension between them. Now she needs his help, and it's very much On.

Other I think have veteran heroes that I don't recall as much about on the veteran front, but they're good books: Dearest Rogue by Elizabeth Hoyt; A Night to Surrender by Tessa Dare; A Lady by Midnight by Tessa Dare; A Week to be Wicked by Tessa Dare.

[stawpny]

I’m bored and ao3 is kinda dry (atleast for the wttt ny tag)

so here are some NY ships I NEED to see more of 🙏

—

MassYork: ok, I used to be almost totally opposed to this, seeing them having more of a brotherly relationship but with history n stuff it’s kinda not possible. But anyway, probably my main ship for now, bc OHMYGOD “nobody can kill you but me”? GET OUT, GET MARRIED, PLEASE.

like if it’s Mass/Cali/York or Mass/Jersey/York I will eat it up.

no questions, it is already in my mouth. I am eating the fuck outta this.

GeoYork: in my mind they have a cute dynamic. I feel they would be best friends as younger colonies and then have a very complicated relationship until they finally get together. Slowburn kinda, also kinda they have been in relationships dozens of times but something always happens. and isn’t Georgia called the “Empire State of the South”? or am I just hearing things

peach + apple? cobbler + pie? idek but I love them

TexYork: guys pls. southern gentleman and city boy? literally perfect for each other. they would make fun of each other endlessly. accents, vocabulary, actions, plus so much more because they’re very different.

TX taking York to his ranch to meet bro’s cows??? yes please. I’d like to meet Betsy too .

^TexaCaliYork: also a fire ship (see what I did there?) like the ship above, but with the hipster in it aswell. Texas and Cal constantly bicker like children and York sorts it out like a teacher would.

NY: you hurt his feelin’s, go apologize.

TX, scoffing: fine, but don’t expect me to get along with him after.

(spoiler alert!! York forces them into a cuddle pile afterwards to get over there lifelong beef)

IlliYork: they’re enemies, they’re lovers, the whole kit-and-caboodle. they’d switch hats sometimes and hold each others hand when they’re in their cities. they’re idiots and the Midwest and the Northeast hate them for it. It’s kinda gross but in a good way.

they’d be the couple who like hold hands in public but not make a single move other than that to show that they love the other. absolutely no kissing in public, they would just sit there in silence with a death grip on the other’s hand. they would totally insult each other to the face and then say, “Love you, tho.”

FloYork: fun fact: they are absolutely insane together. They influence each other and constantly say stupid shit. Florida would force York outta his comfort zone from time to time but the inner extrovert masked by New York’s fake introvert personality will do it almost willingly. he puts up a “fight” but he would deadass do it bc he thinks this shit is hilarious.

NY would be a little like Florida even if they weren’t dating. like NYC is absolutely batshit so that would mean York would have to be a little too.

NY/CA/TX/FL/LA: little crazy, ik, but I remember reading fics abt these five (including gov, but I’m still questioning if he would be in here or not) and absolutely devouring them. spectacular ship. it’s like a little bit of everything, except the Midwest and the other western states, but almost everything. I would love to see more of them.

they would def fight over each other. (who got to hold hands with who, who got to sleep/cuddle with who, etc.)

—

I’m not forcing you to give into my opinions, but if u like these, I like you 😼

some of these hc’s are not entirely mine, some were influenced, tho most are from the rotting part of my brain

I hope u use these ships in the future or I might spontaneously combust

(spoiler alert 2!! I will still explode [out of love] if u write about them)

ily guys

[becoming-with]

My biggest problem with the concept of autism is that it's ontologically dehumanising, and that it normalises behaviours that are harmful from a social perspective. It makes sense that under neoliberalism with little infrastructure to deal with problems at the broader social and material levels that they are instantiated in, the methodology of treating autism as an individually-situated "mental health condition" (or I suppose as a way-of-being in the best manifestation of this approach, though I challenge that this is ever how it is being truly conceptualised and suppported as) is a popular and maybe the only *immediate* way to respond in any sort of supportive manner.

But, as someone who's struggled deeply with other people my whole life and has always had a host of complicated behaviour that has been pegged as typically or potentially auitistic since being very young, I just cannot accept that the phenomena that produces this behaviour in individuals can be reduced to a label like this. The idea that an individual subject 1. exists and 2. can be socially defective is a distortion inherent to the illness of the colonial technofascism of modern day liberalism. Systems of thought that seek to categorise beings and assign value to them in regards to how well they support said system is a broken epistemology, and many people believe this already on the left but at the same time will still choose to deploy, or even self identify with the labels produced by this system, other examples being concepts like "Clinical Depression" or "Anxiety Disorders". Of course, people exhibit the emotional states of depression and anxiety, but can we really honestly say that these states are causally limited to their individual subject? Why would someone NOT be depressed and anxious about the conditions they find themselves in? I don't think I need to repeat the basic premise of the anti-psych response to the concept of mental illness that folks like Mark Fisher and many others like Foucault and D&G etc. have explored at length, but I think if you are looking at this world with any degree of honesty and criticism you'll find it hard to say that it is full of negative stimuli, and that it is rational to respond to this negative stimuli with worry and despair. The ruling powers that want to preserve these terrible power structures built these modes of categorisation and we have to see outside of them.

When you think about what composes autism, often understood as a failure to socially develop or an attachment to behaviours that are not aligned with the greater social body, might it not occur to think about what social conditions would create this state in an individual?

idk, I never intended to write an essay here but I'd just like anyone who identifies with the concept of autism or is happy applying that label without nuance to others to think about the experiencing subject as being in a world and not a self, in a personal history, an intergenerational history, a socio-political history. When we use the word trauma, and we study the causes of trauma we discover a spider web of causal relations, and these complex causes have extremely complex effects. It's kind of hard to create individual examples, these things are so expansive and interrelated, but I'll maybe try sum up a simple equation to start to poke at all this in a more complex and material manner:

What happens when someone experiences social and material deprivation from a young age, what happens when a person is raised by someone who was raised by someone who was raised by someone who was raised in social material deprivation? When for hundreds and hundreds of years each parents generation has had a fundamental aspect of human social organisation increasingly torn from them (and more recently being torn from the world itself as another supportive body of resources both material and social!) What happens when a person grows up with their behaviour constantly being repressed, cut off from wholistic interpersonal support (think parents working for much of their children's day, and then the rigid and authoritative social structure of the school)?

You might want to say that many seem to adapt to this lifestyle in this world well enough and end up well-adjusted, but is that true at all? It absolutely fucking isn't. Again, I think the real state of the society we developed in is increasingly revealed to newer generations, and we have a responsibility to interrogate all of it and not just what makes us comfortable. The people who are well adapted to this world are practicing mental gymnastics, or worse are knowingly dominating others and shutting their feelings off to participate in the competition with others and destruction of everythign around them. The world we're in is the disease and pathologising the reactions of those sensitive to it has got the causal analysis upside down.

The incredibly varied and inexplicably grouped concept of autism, or "neurotypicality" by those who have accepted the narrative of politically reformed psychiatry is just a natural reaction to the intellectual and sense experience of this society. It is multifaceted and inconsistent because the deprivations are broad, many and complex, and "treating" the "symptoms" is only possible by designing society differently.

[thatdebaterguy]

Astoundingly flawed logic

So riddle me this, if Israel is committing genocide with the intent to kill all Palestinians

And has one of the best global militaries, with a budget surpassing Palestine's entire gdp

And even has nuclear weapons

Then how is Palestine still here, how is Gaza still here, how are millions of Palestinians in one of the most densely packed areas of the entire world, all still here. It literally does not fit the definition. There isn't intention to kill. It's the opposite, they've warned Gazans before bombing.

Whether in some cases they haven't warned, or if the civilians just lied, it's a war, they have no obligation to warn for bombing, the Brits and Americans sure as hell didn't warn Dresden, a bombing that killed 20,000 in a single strike, which is very close to the Palestinian civilian death toll, and yet Dresden wasn't a genocide too. Wanna know why? We didn't want to kill every single German. One interesting thing though, when Israel was founded and invaded by the Arab nations around it, what were their intentions? To block the existence of Israel.

Most likely by eradicating all Israeli civilians and soldiers in the area, to remove any possible claim Israel had over the area. Speaking of claims, Jewish people who founded Israel had lived in the area long before some of the Arab settlers had. Some of the Islamic Caliphates are regarded as the most successful settler colonial efforts in history, spreading to Spain, Morocco, the Turkic Steppes, and settling the region of Palestine too, and this all happened after the Jewish people who had founded the city of Jerusalem. There were I think around 400,000 Jews living there before Israel was created, maybe a bit less but around there. It's not a colonial state, in fact it was freed after being a British colony, no different to the way other British colonies were freed. South Africa used to include modern Namibia, but those two states separated, yet I don't hear anyone bickering about Namibia's right to exist. I know it goes vastly deeper than that comparison, but it still somewhat works.

Anyway, let's say you're living in modern Afghanistan as a woman, where your rights are being actively crushed by a group who used to be designated as a terror group before ruling the country. Are you going to try live your life peacefully and avoid being executed over the simplest things, or going into the streets, protesting, then getting beheaded. I think 99% of people would rather keep living to fight another day, than die a martyr. That's why they're Martyrs, they're the rare 1%, people like the ones who helped hide Anne Frank, or hid Jewish people in their homes. I strongly oppose Hamas, but you don't see me flying over to Palestine protesting against them, same way you don't go over to Israel to protest the Israeli government, or go live with Palestinians to show solidarity. Knowing something is evil and wanting it to end without knowing how, and acting against that evil, are both being against it, one is just activism, the other is opposition. Not many people wanna be activists when the crime is death. Is that enough proof for you?