#welcome to all my new followers who are here from my 1899 posts

[icomefromthemountains]

I love that the writers of 1899 knew it was absolutely imperative that Daniel be soaking wet most of the time

[mysticalmusicwhispers]

#i wonder what your thoughts on diaspora in hetalia are#cause its a pretty interesting topic (the post in question)

@urmomsstuntdouble a collection of things that I think about on a semi-regular basis below the cut (also thank you for the tags!)

Disclaimer: I think this turned into more of a discussion of immigration and immigrants, but I hope this strikes your fancy anyways 😅. Also this got SO LONG and I explained quite a bit of history (because idk whether anyone knows much about this), so the key thoughts will be bolded!

My thoughts are kinda complicated about this tbh; it’s weird, because if China really did exist as a personification in real life, we’d probably both be judging each other, just for different reasons 😅.

General Hetalia Cases

I think when discussing immigrants/diaspora, you have to think about why different immigrants left. @cupofkey kinda discussed that a while ago (if anyone hasn’t seen this superb post, GO READ IT NOW) about the Vietnamese diaspora, and I think there’s some of that in every country. How do the immigrants feel about the home country? Why did they leave: because of hard times, poverty? Political instability/revolution/war? Opportunities overseas? Are they doing well in their new home, or still struggling? Does their new country treat them like foreigners or outcasts, unworthy of even arriving, or doing anything besides menial labor, or have they been welcomed (rather unlikely)? Do they hate their home country (politically), or miss them? Would they ever go back, not just to visit family or the place of their birth, but to return permanently?

I think on the whole, hetalia nations would still maintain a connection to their immigrants, especially since most are still in touch with their culture, although they’ve crossed borders or changed nationalities. (However, the angst of not being as in touch with your culture as you think you should is so real; would our home countries be disappointed? Or do they sympathize, somehow?) In the end, we’re all the same that way. Plus, the alternative thought of them just disowning immigrants feels weird; I don’t even know how that would be possible. But I think that connection gets complicated by the reason people left, and their feelings for their place of origin; I’ll be using APH China and Chinese Americans as an example to discuss this hksdgsdf (sorry I don’t want to do more research than necessary and I have Thoughts about this)

**OBLIGATORY DISCLAIMER that immigration/diaspora discussions are almost always case by case and will vary greatly based on things like country of origin/race/ethnicity, country immigrated to, initial socioeconomic status, time period, etc. And even among diaspora, people can and will have vastly different experiences, and it’s not good to generalize. These are just some thoughts with one example.**

1. Waves of Immigration 

Depending on when people arrive, they’ve got different push/pull factors drawing them to a country and it also factors into how the nation feels about them and vice versa... Chinese immigration to the US has mostly two major waves (you could also say there were 3, counting the post-WWII/Communist China wave, but I won’t talk about that): one in the mid 1800s and the other after the 1970s/1980s into modern day; the gap is because the Chinese Exclusion Act (1882) that banned most immigration from China wasn’t repealed until 1943 (because of Japan’s attack on the US in WWII, the US needed China as an ally).

IMMIGRATION WAVE 1: MID 1800s

These immigrants were mostly from southern China (Canton area), and they came to the US because of hard times (Opium Wars + political instability because of things like the Taiping Rebellion) and economic opportunity in the West (eg. Gold Rush (San Francisco is literally “Old Gold Mountain” in Chinese today) + industrialization, railroads, expansion etc.). There was Much Discrimination against those immigrants, and many worked as hard laborers in a variety of occupations (on railroads, gold mine, farms (in the South esp), laundry businesses; there were merchants as well, but they were the minority); many were looking to get some money that they could send back to their families in China and planned to return, but over time, they settled down and stayed. I think for those immigrants, Yao would definitely be understanding, even if he might not be empathetic. After all, he’s not thriving at that time either, and although he thinks Alfred is inferior to him (in many ways), he understands why people would be drawn by economic promise and quick wealth, even if it might not be the best strategy for getting rich. It’s not like staying in China would be better lmao. However, I don’t think he would approve (?) how many of his immigrants stayed in the US when most viewed it as a temporary move; I think Yao is very surprised by how so many of them persisted to carve out a home there, despite the discrimination and limited opportunities. Perhaps he admires their resilience, the creation of Chinatowns and community and how they still come to a country that doesn’t even let them in (see the San Francisco Fire of 1906 and the boon for paper sons), but still wishes they would come back, however unlikely that hope is. Personally, Yao would never be able to stay in Alfred’s country, the beautiful country, if Alfred’s hypocrisy prevented his experience, his immigrant’s experience, from being anything close to beautiful. (You were founded by immigrants and foreigners, but now you spurn them: the poor sojourners who continue to flee to your shores, and refuse them respite from the disasters at home.) And anyways, Alfred is just the next scrappy young upstart, barely 70 years old but with a swagger like he rules the world; how could he have something over himself, the Middle Kingdom, who has stood the test of time? (Admittedly, he’s doing nowhere as well as Alfred—even he can see that, despite his pride, and despite the haze of opium in his brain. Leaving is the logical, objectively sound choice. Still, his pride hurts vaguely when he thinks how his immigrants keep choosing a country that keeps rejecting them, over and over again, instead of himself. But it is no matter. The injury to his ego is inconsequential and easily brushed aside; for they are still his people, and they deserve a good life, wherever they are. His distaste for Alfred flares up again: Arthur’s bastard child, who takes advantage of his trade (see the Open Door Notes, 1899-1900), but refuses his people.)

if anyone wants more context or is interested in the history I mentioned, I highly recommend this pdf (from the book A Different Mirror: A History of Multicultural America by Ronald Takaki)

IMMIGRATION FROM 1949 TO 1980: according to Wikipedia, there was very little immigration from mainland China during this period due to the Cold War and China becoming Communist; most of the immigration was from Taiwan/ROC but counted in the quota for China. Since there’s a separate Hetalia personification for TWN, I’m not going to go over that. However, there were also many people from Mainland China who escaped to Hong Kong, still a British colony, during that period (I hope it’s clear why, but if anyone asks I’ll put it in a separate post); some stayed there, while others emigrated to the US; both trips were for more freedoms and a better life etc because China was really really messed up for a bit (also keep in mind the people emigrating all had the means to and were at least middle class, usually somewhat educated, etc.). I will not be talking about that group either because I don’t think it’s my place to, but please know they exist as well.

IMMIGRANT WAVE 2: 1980s ONWARD

A lot of people came from mainland China for education; there was also an. exodus of intellectuals following 1989 (which I Will Not get into). Many of these people sought job opportunities, like those that rapidly opened up in the computer industry, there are many students who come here to study abroad, who take SATs and TOEFLs to get into good US colleges or to conduct graduate research and get PhDs; some stay, others have gone back to like, advance China’s development (this sentiment of getting good students to go abroad and then go back to China to use their talents for Patriotic Purposes isn’t a new thing, stretches back to like the late 1800s). I don’t really have much to say about this group besides what’s below ↓. 

2. Immigrant Thoughts On Their Home Country

more complicated, because it varies by generation and time period and probably 203943 other things. Mainlanders that came over starting in the 1990s till now have relatively positive feelings towards China (imo, extrapolating from my life experiences); I think part of that is also because most* of these immigrants aren’t really escaping from something? They’re coming for an education/job opportunities (students studying abroad in the US (留学生 or liuxuesheng) for graduate school or university come to mind as one example), and they’re still very much connected to China politically and culturally, sometimes* more so than to the US. For these immigrants, I think Yao doesn’t worry too much about them? They’re pretty successful* overall*, and discrimination, although still A Large Problem™, isn’t the same from stuff that Yao (or his immigrants) remember from, say the mid 1800s (see above), or even during the paranoia about Communists after WWII and the subsequent Chinese Confession Program that made many people really scared of being deported. (Red China made Chinese Americans a target of the Communist panic, and the confession program was instated in order to make sure Communist spies couldn’t infiltrate the US. Those who immigrated illegally could confess that and gain citizenship; however you also had to weed out everyone you knew who also immigrated illegally.) I think Yao would see them as an extension of himself in a different land; they’re very much still part of him, and he gives them his well wishes.

However, I think that immigrants born in the US in modern day at least (1990s onwards) are definitely more ambivalent about China’s legacy + modern day Issues™, as much as we are connected via culture and heritage. Not quite sure how Yao would feel about that, because I’m not quite sure how much Yao is the state and how much he represents the people. However, I think there would be some mutual unease; does he see this as betrayal of some kind? Perhaps he doesn’t blame us for feeling as we do? Maybe he wonders what we feel about him; maybe he doesn’t want to know. Maybe he chooses the easier route: to focus on the bonds between him and his huayi instead of the grievances, and leave the rest unsaid. 

Additionally with first gen immigrants, there’s the conflicting feeling of being stuck between two worlds and value systems that oppose each other in many respects. Also there’s sometimes a feeling of not-quite-being-in-touch-with-your-culture (in other diaspora as well, ofc. here it’s often exemplified by forgetting or not knowing how to read and write Chinese proficiently, among other things 🙃); idk. does Yao see that as a bit of a disappointment? Would he wish us to try harder? Does he view it as inevitable, for those raised in the US; the environment is too different, and perhaps he won’t blame us for those differences, or shortcomings. Does Yao know, or care, about the racism? What about his immigrants who try to assimilate completely into American culture, who try to erase the Chinese part of their identity? Those that have tried it, but regretted it? Are they still his, when they have tried rejecting their connection to him, choosing to drop the “Chinese” from Chinese American? Does he consider racism when thinking about them? What about international adoptees? Does he claim them, when some have not been raised in a culturally Chinese environment, and when it’s still a sensitive subject on both sides of the ocean? I don’t have answers to many of these questions.

There are also immigrants who fled China because of war or persecution or upheaval, (one example is with regards to the Cultural Revolution), but I don’t feel qualified to discuss it here, and I don’t want to take it lightly.

But, despite everything I’ve discussed above, I’d like to think that however an immigrant feels about their home country or however long they’ve been there, all nation personifications would still wish them a better life (even Yao). I mean, it’s not always easy being an immigrant/part of a diaspora (especially when race becomes a factor). I really don’t think any of the hetalia characters would say “look at your struggles. What a mistake it was to immigrate somewhere where you still face so many challenges, although they might be different from the ones back home”. that’s just No. Also, I think that when you disregard sentimentality and their inherent connection to the people, countries would still be able to sympathize with people trying to strive for better, you know? People immigrate for a better life, whether it’s because it was getting rough when they left or because other places had more potential, and like. although nation-people can’t leave their own country, I think they understand the people who do, because it’s a chance to make a new life, and it would be unkind, counterproductive, limiting, to prevent someone from taking that opportunity if it came. And their children, and grandchildren; they are still connected to their origins even in a new country, by blood if nothing else, and nations are people too; they must have some sentimentality for their people born in a different land. I’d like to think that if Yao met a Chinese American kid running around San Francisco’s Chinatown, or bumped into an ABC high schooler in a well to do Massachusetts suburb, he’d stop and nod and maybe say hello, and wish them luck, wherever they go in the future. After all, they are the products of his immigrant’s hopes and dreams, and they are his too, as much as they live in Alfred’s land.

* (asterisks): this is a) from my experience and research; not everyone will have the same experiences! please keep this in mind and don’t generalize a very vast group of people. :)

Idk if that was too sentimental or rambly or something, but yeah, those are some of the things I consider when I think about nations and their diasporas. If you made it down here, thanks for reading! I greatly appreciate it. Also I hope I got all my facts correct, but if anyone spots anything incorrect, especially regarding the post 1980s immigration wave, please tell me! Tried doing my research but there are still a few things I’m unsure about rip. 

This might be deleted tomorrow because I’m feeling weird about it, but feel free to reblog! I’d also very much love some feedback too if any of y’all are feeling up to it

[sam-writesstuff]

Family (Crowley x reader x Aziraphale)

Requested: Hey! I was wondering if you could write a fic with a teen!reader where she spends a lot of time with Crowley and Aziraphale, they're like protective dads over her. One day the angels/demons take her to try and get information about Crowley and Aziraphale, obviously they rescue her and they don't want her to bother with them anymore because they don't want her to get hurt so she yells at them?? Very angsty with a lovely fluffy ending xo

Warnings: Ignorant family, Slight child abuse. 

Word Count: 1899

A/N: I know I said I will post a fic last weekend, but due to some technical issues with my computer, I wasn’t able to finish this ‘til today... I’m sorry🥺School’s kind of dragging me behind with literally everything I enjoy doing;( Learning is important, but I miss the days I can just go anywhere and do anything whenever I wanted to😩 I didn't expect this to be turned into a series... But I guess it is? I hope you guys enjoy reading this!

---

Life wasn't fair. 

You learned this way to young. Your mother hated you, specifically because her own life was ruined in the result of your birth. Your father was selfish and ignorant; an arsehole. Weird enough, you couldn't bring yourself to blame either of them. Your mom was a poor victim of society, and your father was a victim to his father. Not enough reason to abandon a child, but the world you lived in taught you things that most people learn in their thirties. When they got divorced, you were handed to your grandmother. When she died, you were handed to your aunt. Handed, like an object. Like a hot potato, keep being passed on and on until the music stopped playing. When you realized that you can decide when to stop your music, you didn't linger longer. You were around thirteen when you first tried to escape from your aunt. 

It was freezing that night. The night was so, so cold. Everything moved slowly, but you kept walking. You didn't have much on you, and you weren't sure what you needed to do now. You were lost. You thought walking might lead you to somewhere. Anywhere. It was devastating. London was huge. Even so, not a single place in this city had a room for you. You once saw the news on the tv inside a store use the word 'overpopulation,' and how the world was so crowded. You wondered if that is why there wasn't any place for you. 

'God created everyone for a reason, there is a place for everyone in this world.' 

Your grandmother was very forgetful. She sometimes forgot that its morning and tried to put you back into bed. Or wake you up in the middle of the night thinking its morning. She sometimes forgot how to use the bathroom. She sometimes thought she was in someplace else and kept screaming. The rare amount of times when she wasn't, she always told you that God created everyone for a reason, and there is a place for everyone in this world. You never took her word for it, but you truly wished for it to be true at this moment. If it was true, now was the time to prove it.

The bookshop across the street was the only place that had lights on. Every other store on the street was closed. You could've gone over to a cafe that was a few blocks away, but you didn't. It was as if you were possessed by something. You were like the little girl that sold matches and the bookshop was what lit up at your sight. That should be the place. That had to be the place. You entered the bookshop and a gentleman with golden hair came out. 

"Hello, I'm afraid we are quite definitely clo- oh, dear. Are you all right?" 

"I-I'm sorry. The lights were on and I - Ah, achoo!" 

"No, it's not a problem. Please, you can sit here." 

The man offered you a sit on a chair. Honestly, you didn't know what else you could do but to sit. There was nowhere else for you to go. Nowhere else for you sit. This was at least somewhere. 

"Tell me, my child. Where are your parents?" 

You hesitated. If you tell him the truth, will he let you stay? Will he care? He might call the police. What will happen to you then?

You were foolish. You thought escaping would help, only to lead you nowhere but to leave you to freeze to death. 

"Do you have nowhere to go?"

He asked softly. Soft enough to get an unwanted child talking.  No matter how high your walls were, that was all it took to collapse. But you knew this. You tried to avoid a direct answer, still, you couldn't resist the tears that formed in your eyes. 

You expected more questioning from him, but he asked you none. Instead, he let you stay in the store for the night. The next morning, he made you promise to come back. 

"Angels will watch over you," he said. 

You didn't say anything back. Not a typical phrase you think you'd hear from a stranger. What a weird man, you thought. But then you came back because you were desperate. And every time he welcomed you with a warm heart. He seemed glad to see you again. You talked, he listened. He helped you, he took care of you. 

"What is your name, my dear?" 

"Y/N," you didn't say your last name on purpose. You didn't like it. Those people weren't even your family. 

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Y/N. I'm Aziraphale." 

Aziraphale. You saw the name before. Yes, you saw it and not heard it. In the bible. In the dirty, old, dark room you and your grandmother lived, she kept a bible. She'd sometimes read it out loud to you. You were too hungry to care. However, to your curiosity, you had opened it before. 

Not long after you met Aziraphale, you met Crowley. You were terrified of him at first. You swore you saw him yelling at plants once. 

Then one day, Crowley came to your school to see the Christmas play you starred in. You have been working on it for months, and although you weren't the main character, you enjoyed playing your role. You didn't even bother to tell your aunt about it. Instead, you asked Aziraphale if he could come and watch. He said yes, of course. Sadly, on the day of your play, a very important customer to Aziraphale came to the bookshop. Having to deal with him, Aziaraphale couldn't make it to your play. Not knowing that, you waited for him to enter through the door. Your eyes searched among the crowds, but he was nowhere to be seen. Nowhere.

More parents entered, each time waving at their kid on the stage. Some held flowers, probably to give them afterward. 

"Uh, my mum is holding a camera," Harry, who stood beside you, grumbled at the sight. 

"What's wrong with a camera?" You asked. You couldn't understand. What was wrong with a mum trying to savior a memory of her child?

"It is embarrassing. She'll show it to everyone at the Christmas dinner," Harry stated annoyingly. Almost like asking for sympathy. As if you are supposed to feel the same way. As if you too, had such a caring mother who would come to watch your play and record it for showing off purposes. 

"Where is your mum?" Harry asked. It is these simple questions that hurt you the most. All of the assumptions, all of the conditions to be defined as a normal kid. What you hated, even more, is yourself wishing for your mother to enter from that door any moment now, and apologize. 

"I-" You hear a large creek when you opened your mouth to answer. The door swung opened and entered a very familiar-looking person. Crowley.  

Besides the dramatic entrance, he was a very unlike figure to be seen at a school play.  Flaming red hair, wearing entirely black with usual sunglasses; his posture, in general, had a weird aurora. Parents stared at him with questioning eyes and so did you. You queried why he was there, he didn't appear like a parent. He marched over to you, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a large bouquet.

"I am not late, am I?" Crowley said as he looked around the room, "Is the play already over?" 

"No," you took a moment before answering him. You were confused. "It hasn't even started yet. Where is Azi?" 

"Aziraphale couldn't make it, had an important customer to deal with. Wanted me to tell you how sorry he was." 

Disappointed look spread on your face. It wasn't his fault, you knew that. Though, that didn't stop you from being upset. You'll just leave as fast as you can after the play. Your friends will want to take pictures with you but... Well, you didn't have anyone to take the photo for you. If you leave fast enough, you'll be able to avoid all the questions. 

"Don't be so gloomy about it. I'm here."

You looked up at Crowley with unbelieving eyes. "You are not going to leave?"

"What? No. Why do you think I came here in the first place?"

Your teacher announced that the play was starting soon, and Crowley went to find a seat. When he did found a sit, he took his phone out. You expected him to be on his phone instead of focusing on your play, but to your surprise, his camera lens landed on you. Later, himself joined other crowds of parents who scooched in the front row as quietly as possible trying to get the best shot of their children. 

When the play ended, he whistled loudly. It was the loudest whistle you've ever heard in your life. He had a bright smile onㅡalmost grinningㅡand you've never seen him smile so widely. A proud smile. A kind of smile you've never gotten it before. You ran down the stairs after the final bow, towards Crowley and you hugged him tightly. He seemed stunned by your sudden action since you always hid behind Aziraphale whenever you saw him, but he patted on your shoulder in return. 

"This is for you, by the way," he said, handing you the bouquet. Your smile widened at it. The flowers were beautiful. 

Your friends ran over to you, wanting to take pictures with you. Their parents followed with their cameras. You looked up nervously at Crowley, but he was already taking his phone out. When all the picture fiasco was done, he took your hand and led you out to his car. 

"I know my way home. I can walk home," you said but then hopped onto his car. 

"Aziraphale is treating us dinner," Crowley answered fastening your seatbelt. 

"Really?" Your face lightened up in excitement. A family dinner. Something you've never experienced before. 

"Yes. Do you know your aunt's number? I'll call her," he handed you his phone from the driver's seat. 

"I do, but I don't think you need to. Don't worry, she won't care," you didn't take his phone, knowing that she wouldn't care either way. She didn't the day you ran out of the house. She didn't when you came back, so why would she start caring now? 

However, Crowley looked rather disturbed. He didn't say anything, and with his sunglasses, it was almost impossible to read him. You were greeted with Aziraphale when you arrived. 

"Oh, hello, my dear. I deeply apologize for not being able to-" 

"It's okay. Look! Crowley gave me flowers!" 

"They look wonderful," he smiled at you softly before turning to Crowley. His face expression changed quickly and his voice deepened in a serious tone. "Did you film her as I asked you to?"

"Yes, yes. I did. Now come on, she must be starving." 

After this day, you considered Crowley as your family along with Aziraphale. 

You promised to yourself every single day, that one day, you'll give it all back to them. All the kindness they showed, all the things they gave you. You'll pay them back. 

You never thought that your existence would endanger them, or that their existence would endanger you.

[seanfknmacguire]

Under the cut is the beginning to a project I’m doing, where I’m writing my OCs into the story of RDR2. The OCs I’m using are Hosea’s twins, Dutch’s daughter, my first OC and an OC of mine which is a rival of Sean’s. I might also add in my OC inspired from Ellie from The Last Of Us later. I have no confidence in this so any replies or tips are welcome :)  I’ll probably do a whole post of OC introductions soon. Please let me know what you think <3 

In the dead of night and the worst snowstorm 1899 had seen, Dutch Van Der Linde led the Van Der Linde gang through the snowy mountains, having only just gotten out of the small town of Blackwater after a robbery gone wrong. Sitting next to a Hosea Matthews, they looked on for some shelter, trying to keep their family warm. 

Amelia Silverton was following on horseback, her oversized coat, a gift from Arthur, wrapped firmly around her shoulders as she shivered. The young 20 year old watched Abigail and Luna work on Davey, a member of their gang who had been fatally injured, and sighed. She wondered just how on earth they had gotten themselves in that situation. Moving her brown hair out of her face, she looked behind her to check on the twins.

The twins, Lily and Nick Matthews, were the spitting image of their mother Bessie who had unfortunately already passed. Their father Hosea was fiercely protective, always keeping a close eye as they always got themselves into mischief as 17 year olds should. The pair were inseparable, following the caravan closely in fear of getting lost.

Luna Van Der Linde was helping Abigail work on Davey in the medical wagon. The short 16 year old being a huge help in the medical field - almost as if it were a gift. She kept an eye on Davey’s wounds, keeping pressure on them as instructed by Abigail and Reverend Swanson.

Connor Kingston had kept his mouth shut for once and instead followed the caravan, keeping guard at the back alongside Javier. The mouthy 22 year old always had an opinion for everything, and didn’t exactly get along with a lot of the gang. He made up for it with fighting - he was a damn good fighter, and a valuable asset to the group, as much as Amelia or Luna didn’t want to admit it.

“Abigail says he’s dyin’, Dutch. We have to stop some place.” Reverend Swanson warned up at Dutch and Hosea, his hoarse voice no match for the loud wind.

“Okay, Arthur’s out looking - I sent him up ahead.” Dutch responded, not sure how on earth he could help apart from wait until Arthur got back. He had a hell of a lot on his plate - Sean and Mac missing, Davey on death’s door, and trying to find a place for the people relying on him to stay.

“If we don’t stop soon we’ll all be dying. This weather, it’s May… I’m just hoping the law got as lost as we did.” Hosea’s voice came from beside Dutch, the bitter cold biting at his face as he shivered. The cold wasn’t good for his bones. The two noticed a silhouette in front of them, and were on alert until they recognised it to be Arthur.

“Arthur! Any luck?” Dutch called forward, his voice hopeful. He was desperately praying that Arthur had found something useful.

Arthur dipped his hat, wiping the fresh snow from its hilts. "I found a place where we can get some shelter!" he shouted in response, the aggression of the blizzard rendering him difficult to hear. "Let Davey rest while he... You know." he added on, the gruffness of his voice growing stronger.

"Come on!" Dutch called to the rest of the group, speeding up the wagon he was steering. He was relieved, suddenly getting almost excited to get everyone inside near a warm fire. It only took them a little while to get to the little mining town, Dutch checking on each individual member as Hosea checked the building they were about to bring Davey into. Making sure there was no danger, he called back outside. “Bring him in here!” Amelia dismounted her horse, taking it into the building they were going to use as shelter for them and tried to keep herself as wrapped as possible. She helped Nick bring all of the horses in, having no time to talk as she focused. Patting him on the shoulder once they had finished, they made their way to the main building with everyone else. Lily and Luna followed the gang into the house, quickly taking a seat. It wasn’t warm yet, but hell, it was out of the wind. Luna looked around at everyone’s faces, and she couldn’t tell if they were full of hope or full of fear. Connor wandered in with Javier and Bill, putting his gun back into his holster now they were finally in and safe. He smiled at young Jack, walking over to the fire and placing some logs inside of the fireplace ready.

Abigail took a stand next to Davey, ready to patch him up properly now they were in shelter when she noticed he wasn't breathing. She looked at his chest - no movement. She put her head near his nostrils - no air coming out. "Davey's dead." She said sadly. Amelia sighed, looking down sadly. They'd lost a lot of people. They didn't even know if Mac and Sean were alive, and worry sat in the pit of her stomach as well as everyone else's. It was evident to Dutch spirits were low.

"There was... Nothing more you could've done," Reverend Swanson peered over to the brunette, dipping his head.

"What are we gonna do, we need supplies?" Hosea asked, closing Davey's eyes with two fingers and looking up at Dutch. He watched him move, nodding at the man.

"Well first of all you are gonna stay here, and you are gonna get yourself warm." Dutch looked at Hosea, a hand on his shoulder briefly. "Now I sent John and Micah scouting out ahead. Arthur and I, we're gonna ride out and see if we can find one of them."

"In this!?" Arthur waved to the outdoors, frowning a bit. He didn’t exactly want to go outside, it was a death trap.

"Just for a short bit. I don't see what other choice we have.” Dutch reassured, looking at the faces of his gang. They needed some motivation, fast. "Listen... Listen to me all of you, for a moment. Now we've had a bad couple of days. I loved Davey, and Jenny... Sean, Mac, they may be okay, we don't know."

Amelia looked down at the mention of Sean, but soon perked back up. She was worried. They weren’t exactly together, but there was definitely something there - the whole damn gang could see it. Luna listened to her father intently as well as the others.

“But we lost some folk. Now if I could throw myself into the ground in their stead, I'd do it. Gladly. But we are gonna ride out, and we are gonna find some food. Everyone, we're safe now. There ain’t nobody following us in a storm like this. And by the time they get here we'll be long gone. We've been through worse than this before. Mr Pearson, Miss Grimshaw, I need you to turn this place into a camp. We may be here for a few days. Now all of you, all of you, stay strong. Stay with me. We ain't done yet." He said with a strong tone, nodding towards the door. “Come on Arthur.” He finished strongly, reaching and squeezing Luna’s hand quickly before walking out of the door with Arthur. The gang sat in silence for a few moments, before Connor decided to lift some spirits.

“So… Lovely weather we’re having.”

------------------------------

“So what’s the plan Dutch?”

Night had fallen on the gang’s makeshift camp, members eating the stew that Pearson made from the deer Arthur and Charles had caught the day before. John was also back- Luna cleaning the wound on his cheek before she ate. A lot had happened since they arrived, including rescuing a widow, Sadie, taking out a whole O’Driscoll camp and capturing a young O’Driscoll, Kieran. The gang had gathered in the main room, wondering just what on earth they could do and where they could go. They couldn’t stay in the mountains - they’d die within two weeks. Dutch racked his brain as he stared at a map, looking for possible places they could go. His eyes skimmed over the words Valentine, and nudged Arthur, pointing to the words.

“That’s a lotta civilisation, Dutch…” Arthur shook his head, glancing at the words on the map. They couldn’t go further north, or back west into Blackwater, and lord only knows what lurked direct south.

“I know, but I don’t see what other choice we have.” Dutch sighed. He turned to his tired family - all looking to him for some kind of idea. “We head West, into Valentine. I know a little spot we could use, for now, until we find a proper place.”

“What about Sean and Mac?” Amelia asked, leaning her arms on her knees as she sat on the floor next to Lily and Nick. She was worried mainly for Sean - not that she’d ever admit it.

“What about them? We can’t do nothin’, at least not right now.” Connor replied, a harsh tone in his voice. He and Amelia never really got along well - Amelia’s fiery personality and Connor’s always made them at loggerheads.

“We can’t just leave them.” She furrowed her eyebrows looking up at him.

“Look princess, I know you’re worried about the ginger, but let’s face it - he’s probably dead.” Connor shrugged, his Irish accent thick as he spoke. He and Sean never got along either.

“You take that back.” Amelia spat while standing up, her quick temper almost too quick in this situation.

“Both of you, stop it.” Hosea warned from beside Dutch. It wasn’t new to him to have to separate the two.

“This is the plan - We gather a few people to rob that damn train in the morning, while whoever stays behind packs up. We’ll get back and leave straight away, heading for that spot near Valentine.” Dutch spoke, his voice full of hope and confidence. Luna looked at her father with a smile - she wanted to be like him some day. She wanted nothing more than to go on the train robbery with them - but she knew Dutch would never allow it. Then again, what was the harm in asking?

“Now everyone - try and get some sleep. We have a big day tomorrow.” Dutch nodded to everyone. As everyone dispersed, Luna stuck around, getting up from her seat next to John and standing beside her father, Hosea and Arthur.

“You know, Pa… I was thinking.” She trailed off, looking up at Dutch with an innocent grin. She had him wrapped around her finger and she knew it. Dutch looked at her suspiciously before Arthur spoke.

“Don’t hurt yourself.” He joked, earning a small slap on the arm from Luna before turning back to Dutch.

“Ain’t it time I start coming on robberies with you fellers? You know I can shoot, and ain’t no-one gonna pick on a young girl.” She said hopefully. Dutch shook his head.

“Absolutely not. I can’t risk that darlin’, I’m sorry.”

“Hey hold on now Dutch, it might be a good idea.” Connor overheard the conversation and interjected, a hand on Luna’s shoulder. “She’s a bloody good shot and you kno’ it. What if she comes tomorrow? There’ll be plenty of us and you can see if she can handle it.”

“But-” He started, but stopped himself and sighed. It was a good idea.

“A simple train robbery, what can go wrong? After Blackwater I think we’ve used up all our bad luck. Besides, I’ll be fine, I got you guys if things go to chaos.” She looked up at Dutch hopefully, who sighed.

“Okay, fine. You stay back at all times, you’re never on your own and I don’t want you killin’ nobody, you hear?” Dutch pointed at her as she nodded. Luna was the spitting image of Dutch - the same curly, black hair, the same eyes and smile. “Now go get some sleep.” He smiled, kissing her on the forehead after nodding to the door. She smiled up at him, walking towards the door like everyone else, nerves bubbling in her stomach.

[bettercalllacho]

The Studies and deductions on the Blood Pact theory between Dumbledore and Grindelwald

Introduction:

My interpretation of the Mirror of erised scene, about Albus' wand, norse mythology and their past.

Before I start, I would like to say what's your about to see it's a whole set of theories regarding the mirror of Erised scene, the wand, the pendant and these two characters. It would take about 10 minutes of your time, I'm trying to be as reasonable, logical and understable as I possibly can, I hope you enjoy this journey with me and like it.

In my previous posts, I already noticed runes on AD's wand and here I provide you some pictures with more details.

Let's start by looking at the meaning of the 4 runes

Uruz:

•Anrochs or Wild Bull

•Symbols of primary force, beastly powers and freedom, brutal strength, but also control, self-control and domination

•the parts lack equilibrium, an unequal manifestation

•can easily lead to excess or extreme if the individual isn’t careful at the way power, strength and authority manifest themselves in.

•In relationship it signifies primary attraction between two people, beast like attraction. When speaking of a single person, it shows rich adventures filled with passion which quickly consume themselves.

Jera:

• Year, natural cycles & Progress, abundance and light

• not in perfect equilibrium, one of them is always above the others

• two eternal, opposing forces: Masculine and Feminine, Warm and Cold, Static and Dynamic etc.

• associated with summer and spring

• Romance or erotically it symbols the tension between partners disappear, charming spouse, unique relationship

Ansuz:

•God or Ancestral, the rune of Odin/Wotan the greatest Norse god

•an entity who lowers his arms to bless and to offer protection and teaching.

•the rune of communication, inspiration, good, truth, joy and prosperity, a period of joy, openness and progress

•Socially, it foretells a good, slow and yet certain ascension, earned through work and diplomacy.

Dagaz:

•Day or Dawn

•Balanced forces, equality, the communication between earth and sky, Eternal equilibrium

• a lot of success, happiness and growth

•Single people find inner peace and balance, becomes wiser by understanding the necessity and usefulness of solitude. For couples, mutual understanding, empathy and spirit of self-sacrifice.

--> It can be seen from the descriptions above, that the 4 runes are all related to the summer (1899 in Godric's Hollow) they shared together, the political views of the two characters, and the GREATER GOOD ideal that they both have. But similary some runes such as DAGAZ also possessed meanings that maybe omitted by these two in the time 1899. For example, the usefulness of solitude and the spirit of self-sacrifice parts. Therefore, I do not think that they purposely choose the runes in 1899 to carve on Albus' wand, more likely  is that when they are performing the blood pact together as partially as this outcome of this magical ritual, the runes appears on AD's wand.

Of course at the time they were able to decipher part of the meanings of these runes but as teenagers with deep affection for each others, they may pay more attentions to the descriptions that are related to their great cause together and have certains ommissions about the deeper metaphorical meaning of the runes. The runes are in a way a bad omen, resulting from theirs blood pact. Theirs arrogance, theirs brillant minds and also the fact they were dazzled so much by each others making them blind on the meaning of the 4 runes and the repercussions on theirs future life.  

I will in the upcoming paragraphe further explain the connection of a blood oath supposition and the information we had about the film right now and to propose a really important theory on the connection to the Norse Mythology.

So I propose my suppositions as follows:

The soundtrack of CRIMES OF GRINDELWALD, one of the song is called «Blood Pact» (track 10).

According to my deductions I have made, the GG's pendant it's a gift from AD. And the sphere of the pendant has 2 colours in it and we can image this like the Tai Chi symbol. In chinese philosophy, the Tai Chi is a manifestation of two balanced forces and we can see that the DAGAZ rune at the bottom of Albus' wand is also talking about «balanced forces». And the connection between sky and the earth so I think the correlation used is quite obvious in this way. We can deduce that these two give to each other gifts while performing the blood oath. AD gives to GG the pendant, and GG possibly offers to AD the golden bracelet we see on AD's wrist.

In the trailer in footage of the Erised Mirror scene theirs palms are facing each other clearly performing some kind of magical ritual at the time. And in a new footage that we get which is AD smiling with bitterness to the mirror, the teens are looking down at something which really look like they are looking at theirs hands which has blood in it. That's the reason why I think the song «Blood Pact» will be played during this erised mirror scene.

I believe that the further evidences toward Blood Pact should be the correlation of Albus and Gellert toward the Norse Mythology Odin and Loki and here are the reasons for this evidence:

Reason 1: Runes have shared roots with both Germany and England, so it's related to the countries of  GG and AD

Reason 2: The rune ANSUZ on AD's wand is the symbol of Odin.

Reason 3: Norse Mythology characters Loki and Odin are blood-brothers they had a blood pact together.

                                                AD and GG

                                  Odin/Wotan         Loki

Loki and Odin are Blood Brothers meaning they perform a Blood Pact

It's from the “LOKASENNA” also called “Loki's flyting”, “Loki's wrangling” or “Loki Quarell”.

“LOKASENNA” is one of the poems of the “POETIC EDDA”.

3 differents translations about the blood oath between Loki and Odin

→ “Remember Odin, in the olden days what blood-brothers we were” (Auden and Taylor translation)

→ “Odin! Dost thou remember when we in early days blended our blood together” (Thorpe translation)

→ “Remember Othin in olden days that we both our blood have mixed” (Bellow translation)

In the past, Loki and Odin performed a ritual in which they mingled their blood and became brothers; blood-brotherhood is mention in the first translation of Auden and Taylor. But in every version a kinship oath is implied between them and mixing blood. Also they shared alcohol because it's the blood of God.

Loki quoth:

“Remember you that Odin it was we (who) in days of old blended our blood together ?”

→ Odin had promised that neither of them would drink with Gods unless both of them were welcomed. Bragi denies Loki a seat with the Gods. So Loki reminds Odin the oath blood-pact. So Odin without any others choice order Vidar to find a seat for Loki. Perhaps GG will later in the FB saga reminds to AD the blood pact they made together in 1899.

Reason 4: Apart the blood pact from norse mythology the correlations between the characters are also quite stunning.

We will start talking about Grindelwald and Loki:

A) They are both masters at manipulating people's mind, they have great charisma and are very goods with words. Loki is a famous trickster.

B) Loki the shapeshifter and Grindelwald used transfiguration to impersonate Percival Graves and obviously he is a master of transfiguration himself. (Perhaps he learned this from AD who is later a famous teacher of transfiguration and also AD wrote an essay about Transfiguration when he was a teen. Bathilda Bagshot the great aunt  of GG like this essay from AD)

C) The relationship between Loki and the Odin has always been highly complicated, Loki sometimes helps the Gods but the other times he hunders them. Loki is a trickster you can't totally trusted him. And before Rita Skeeter published her book, people knew very limited things apart from the fact that Dumbledore defeat Grindelwald in 1945. And they knew nothing about the complex past together of AD and GG. Grindelwald is unpredictable just like Loki.

D) Loki and Grindelwald are both gets an eternal punishment. Loki was sentenced to be hurt by the serpent in a cave until Ragnarok, Grindelwald spending the rest of his life in Nurmengard.

E) Snake is a symbol for Slytherin and Voldemort. Loki suffers from the snake and Grindelwald has died by the hand of Voldemort.

F)It took the other Gods until Ragnarok to realise how much Loki had helped them in the past and Grindelwald had defended Albus' grave in the last minutes of his life. Fortunately for Grindelwald Harry Potter said this fact to Albus Dumbledore during the King Cross station scene from the last HP book.

Now about Dumbledore and Odin:

A) Odin is an extermely powerful and wise God in Norse Mythology. There's many enigmas, mysteries about him. It's very similar to Dumbledore during the HP series.

B) Odin is reveared and wordshipped by those who are seeking prestige, honour and nobility. He is also accused of  beeing a trickster, Dumbledore used manipulation to get people to do his bidding, although that's good bidding. But some people don't appreciate this (ex: Newt Scamander or Severus Snape)

C) Odin is a favorite God by the outlaws and people not welcome in the society. Same thing goes for Dumbledore, he offers good treatment to house elves in Hogwarts (ex: Dobby), and he protects many of these outsiders and gives them guidance and support (ex: Newt, Hagrid, Lupin and Filch)

D) Odin is in charge of the afterworld of fallen heroes called the Valhalla and Dumbledore has own the 3 deathly hallows in some parts of his life and become the master of death.

E) Odin sacrifices one of his eyes to get the wisdom of runes and Dumbledore sacrifices one of his hands for the Gaunt's ring. Also he doomed himself to bringing down Voldemort by destroying the horcruxes, to save the soul of Draco Malfoy and with the tiny hope to see the ghosts of his family.   

One of the name of Albus is WULFRIC  Wulf= Wolf Ric= Power and rule. The name must be linked theNorse Mythology character BEOWULF. GELLERT name is similar to GRENDEL the main antagonist of BEOWULF. Which fits well with theirs famous duel in 1945.

GG mentions «But the old ways serve us no longer» in his great speech and the sentence apart from saying it as this statue of secrecy serves us no longer, we can also interpret to be his ultimate seperation with Dumbledore in terms of the ways. So as we can see, they goes on seperate ways.Now Grindelwald has Vinda Rosier, Krall, Krafft, Carrow, Nagel and perhaps Grimmson on his side for the GREATER GOOD.

Conclusion:

Blood pact is the opposite of Unbreakable Vow, it concerns more about feelings and trust instead of the procedure one would take to make sure people don't betray each other. If you violate a blood pact it is your honour instead of your life beeing affected. And this fact that these two people choose to shared blood like Norse ancients Gods and to connect to each others in that way is a demonstration of the brillance and arrogance of them as teens. It also shows the high level of trust they have for each other. It has been mentioned in interviews there will be intimate shots between teen AD and GG. And I believe the blood pact itself is enough intimacy and influence for both people physically and mentally.

[dulwichdiverter]

Common people

The story of Peckham Rye Park and Common is a rich mix of legend, folklore and real-life events. Our writer sorts the fact from the fiction  

By Baruch Solomon; Photo © Steve Keiretsu

“Who’ll buy our rye? Who’ll buy? Who’ll buy?”

The pretty girls of Peckham cry.

“The ears are full as they can hold

And heavy as a purse of gold.

Sweeter corn you will not find

For the London mills to grind.

Come buy, come buy,

Our Peckham rye!”

This almost forgotten nursery rhyme was brought to the attention of the Peckham Society by Linda G Wood in 2001.

While the poem refers to the grain, it is the Old English word “rye” – meaning watercourse – from which Peckham Rye derives its name. Rye is almost certainly a reference to the River Peck, which still flows through the park today.

The expansive and much-loved green space, which is bordered by East Dulwich, Nunhead and Peckham, is steeped in history and folklore. Legend has it that Boudicca, the Iceni warrior queen, fought her final battle on the common, but this is highly unlikely.

In fact, after destroying London, Boudicca’s army headed northwards and laid waste to St Albans. Her crushing defeat by Roman governor Suetonius at the Battle of Watling Street probably took place somewhere in the Midlands.  

There is also scant evidence for Brockley Jack, a local highwayman after whom the Brockley Jack pub is supposedly named. That being said, highwaymen probably did target travellers on the common, perhaps using One Tree Hill to scope out their prey.  

Peckham Rye Common has been a place for recreation since at least the 14th century, when it was mentioned in connection with sports and stag hunting. By the late 1700s, landowners across the country were fencing off areas that had been public land for hundreds of years.

This led to protests at Peckham Rye in 1766 and 1789, when a popular rhyme expressed the outrage felt by many: “The fault is great in man or woman, who steals a goose from off a common. But what can plead that man’s excuse, who steals a common from a goose?”

Around 1767, a different type of radical was taking a walk through the area. Poet William Blake, who was then about nine years old, saw an oak tree “filled with angels, bright angelic wings bespangling every bough like stars”.

A Romantic and a passionate advocate of social justice, Blake used his poetry and art to elicit humanity and inspiration amid the worst horrors of the industrial revolution. There is a mural commemorating his “vision of angels” behind the playground at Goose Green.

In 1864 trouble flared up again. Landowner Sir Edward Bowyer Smith allowed 32 horse-drawn vans onto the common filled with wild animals, including lions, tigers and possibly a rhinoceros or two.

The animals belonged to Wombwell’s Wild Beast Show, a travelling menagerie that was a household name in Victorian England and performed for Queen Victoria and her family three times.

Sir Edward’s unlikely new tenants were welcomed onto the common for a reason – he wanted to sell the land to developers. In response to his proposals, local people took their grievance to parliament in 1865.

It was rejected, but a year later the government passed the Metropolitan Commons Act, enabling Camberwell Vestry to buy the common, together with Goose Green and Nunhead Green, to be used as public space.

Peckham Rye Park was opened  on May 14, 1894 and this early description by JJ Sexby is still recognisable today: “In a secluded hollow delightfully shaded with trees a lake has been made. It has an island      in the centre and is fed by a small watercourse running though the grounds, which has been formed into a number of pools by artificial dams.”

Meanwhile the common had lost none of its anarchic edge. Dorothea Teayne recalled her mother’s memoirs in a letter to the Peckham Society: “One Sunday afternoon there was a pro-Boer meeting (1899 or 1900).

“There was an enormous crowd, and feeling ran so high that the mob made a rush for the speakers and threw them into the pond. I can remember clearly how terrified I was, hanging on to Dad and being unable to keep my feet on the ground, just being dragged along with the crowd.”

When Alfred Stevens of Homestall Farm died in 1907, what remained of his farm was incorporated into the park. It was used to create the bowling green and the Sexby, American and Japanese gardens.

The Japanese Garden was inspired by a major Japanese-English exhibition held at White City in 1910. The original shelter and many of the plants were gifts from the municipality of Tokyo.

Over the years, numerous attractions have come and gone. They include a bandstand, a dog’s paddling pool, a putting green and a model boat pond.

To the north of East Dulwich Road is the remains of a blue Art Deco fountain. This belonged to an open air swimming pool that once stood on the common, and plans to build a new lido are currently under discussion.

There were also three whalebone arches in the park, one of which spanned the rustic bridge near the lake. It was considered good luck to walk under the arches, possibly because they looked like wishbones. Lovers also liked to carve their initials on them, which may explain why they eventually fell to pieces.

Peacocks strutted freely about the park but a more unconventional attraction was the “rats’ dining room” near the bowling green. “The rats are most friendly,” one park keeper told the Daily Chronicle.

“They don’t care for crowds, but on a quiet day they like to see the children and the children love coming here to feed them.” He added, rather dubiously, that he’d “never seen anyone run away from a rat”.

Both common and park saw activity during World War Two. A German bomb destroyed the King’s Arms pub that overlooked the common, killing 11 people. Rebuilt after the war, it was turned into the infamous “Kings on the Rye” nightclub and is now flats.

According to bombsight.org, 78 bombs were dropped in the Peckham Rye area between October 1940 and June 1941. Underground air raid shelters were built in the northwest part of the common in 1939 with enough room for 672 people.

From 1943, Italian prisoners were housed on the common. They were not considered hostile and had considerable freedom to come and go. Only one POW hut still remains. It has been used for many years by the One O’Clock Club for mothers and toddlers but is due for demolition in early 2018.

In 1953 the Oval Garden, with its closely cropped lawn, formal flowerbeds and patriotic looking flagpole was laid out to celebrate the coronation of Queen Elizabeth. No doubt a Union Jack flew from the mast in place of today’s Green Flag Award.

In the decades that followed, parks and open spaces across the country began suffering from vandalism and neglect. In 1975 a rather snooty journalist from the South London Press had this to say about the common:

“It stands like an island surrounded by the roar of the traffic, occasionally visited by ‘castaways’ like the meths drinkers and groups of jobless youngsters who bask in the summer sunshine or simply sleep it off until the next bottle.”

The year of 1987 was an especially difficult one for Peckham Rye Park and Common. The lido finally closed. During a summer heatwave, the lake was starved of oxygen and hundreds of dead fish were found floating on the surface.

Then in October, the “Great Storm” that weatherman Michael Fish famously failed to predict brought down several trees. They lay piled on the common for several months before they were finally removed.

The Friends of Peckham Rye Park came into existence in 1995. Since then – largely due to their efforts – the park has undergone a renaissance, and their pièce de résistance is the Community Wildlife Garden.

The spot includes a beehive, insect towers, meadows and a wetland area. Ablaze with colour in summer, the dogwoods in the winter garden give a sense of warmth even in the bleakest months of the year.

It’s easy to drive past the common without noticing anything special; save perhaps the daffodils that line the roadside in early spring. It’s only when you step inside the park that you experience its beauty and variety; how it responds to the seasons and alters its mood with every kind of weather.

There are plenty of unexpected surprises, like the intricately carved totem pole that overlooks East Dulwich Road. Then there’s the strange blue water that comes out of the fountain in the Sexby Garden. An unconfirmed explanation is that it’s a vegetable dye to prevent dogs getting infections.

Talking of surprises, I recently saw an online post claiming that there were remains of a chimney stack behind the Japanese Garden. I never found the chimney stack but while searching, I nearly tripped over a memorial stone dedicated to a William H Shackleton. Further investigation confirmed that Mr Shackleton was of the canine persuasion, but the inscription “Ob Ob ZENA” remains a mystery.

One of my most inspirational experiences happened early in 2009. Unusually for London, there had been a heavy snowfall the previous night. I came into the park to find lots of lovingly created snow sculptures, some of them full of detail.

Parents and children must have come out early in the freezing cold to create these works of art, knowing full well they would melt in a day or two. That for me is what places like Peckham Rye are all about. The enjoyment of nature, a bit of healthy exercise and the spontaneity of creativity for creativity’s sake.