#I refuse to call britain Great Britain

[mariacallous]

The great fault of the global left is not that it supports Hamas. For how could Western left-wing movements or left-inclining charities or academic bodies truly support Hamas if they were serious about their politics?

No one outside the most reactionary quarters of Islam shares Hamas’s aim of forcing the peoples of the world to accept “the sovereignty of Islam” or face “carnage, displacement and terror” if they refuse.  You cannot be a progressive and campaign for a state that executes gay men. An American left, which includes in its ranks the Queers for Palestine campaign group, cannot seriously endorse lethal homophobia in its own country.  They will turn a blind eye in Palestine, as we shall see, but not in New York or Chicago.

Finally, no left organisation proudly honours the Protocols of the Elders of Zion and the fascist tradition that Hamas embraces with such sinister gusto, although in a sign of a decay that has been building on the left for more than a generation, many will promulgate left-wing conspiracy theories which are as insane as their fascist counterparts.

No, the problem with the global left is that it is not serious about politics. It “fellow travels” with radical Islam rather than supports it. The concept of “fellow travelling,” with its suggestions of tourism, dilettantism, and privilege, is well worth reviving. The phrase comes from the Bolsheviks. After the Russian Revolution of 1917 they looked with appreciation on Westerners who supported them without ever endorsing communism. Artists, writers, and academics who were disgusted with the West, often for good reason, I should add, were quite happy to justify Soviet communism and cover up its crimes without ever becoming communists themselves.

Leon Trotsky put it best when he said of fellow travellers that the question was always “how far would they go”? As long as they did not have live under the control of communists in the 1920s or the control of Islamists in the 2020s, the answer appears to be: a very long way indeed

W.H. Auden said, as he looked back with some contempt on his fellow travelling past, if Britain or the United States or any country he and his friends knew were taken over by a “successful communist revolution with the same phenomena of terror, purges, censorship etc., we would have screamed our heads off”. But as communism happened in backward Russia “a semi-barbarous country which had experienced neither the Renaissance nor the Enlightenment”, they could ignore its crimes in the interests of seeing the capitalist enemy defeated.

You see the same pattern of lies and indulgence in the case of Hamas. Journalists  have produced a multitude of examples of fellow travelling since 7 October but let one meeting of the Oakland City Council in the Bay area of San Francisco speak for them all.

A council member wanted the council to pass a motion that condemned the killings and hostage-taking by Hamas, who, in case we forget, prompted the war that has devastated Gaza, by massacring Israeli civilians. The motion got nowhere

According to one speaker Hamas did not massacre anyone, a modern variant of Holocaust denial that is becoming endemic. “There have not been beheadings of babies and rapings,” a woman said at the meeting. “Israel murdered their own people on October 7.”  Another woman said that calling Hamas a terrorist organization is “ridiculous, racist and plays into the genocidal propaganda that is flooding our media.” Hamas was the “armed wing of the unified Palestinian resistance” , said a third who clearly had no knowledge of the civil war between Hamas and Fatah.

“To condemn Hamas was very anti-Arab racist” cried a fourth. The meeting returned to modern Holocaust denial as a new speaker said the Israeli Defence Forces had murdered their own people and it was “bald propaganda” to suggest otherwise. A man intervened to shout that “to hear them complain about Hamas violence is like listening to a wifebeater complain when his wife finally stands up and fights back”.  

Anyone who contradicted him was a “white supremacist.”

Of course they were.

Now if theocrats were to establish an Islamist tyranny in the Bay area, I am sure every single speaker would scream their heads off, as Auden predicted. They can turn into fellow travellers as there is no more of a prospect of theocracy threatening them than there was of communism threatening readers of the left-wing press in the UK and US in the 1930s.

A serious left would have plenty to complain about. Consider the Israeli position after the breakdown of the ceasefire. The Israeli state is led by Benjamin Netanyahu, a catastrophe of a prime minister, who left his people exposed to the worst massacre of Jews since the Holocaust. His war aims are contradictory: you cannot both wipe out Hamas and free the hostages.

Worst of all, the Israeli defence forces are to move to the southern Gaza strip where two million Palestinians are crammed. Just war doctrine holds that a military action must have a reasonable chance of success if the suffering is to be permitted. How, reasonably, can the Israeli army expect to find guerilla fighters hiding in a terrified population?  According to leaks in the Israeli media, Anthony Blinken, the US Secretary of state, was warning the Israeli government that, “You can’t operate in southern Gaza in the way you did in the north. There are two million Palestinians there.” But he was ignored.  A radical movement worth having would surely be putting pressure on the Biden administration to force Israel to listen to its concerns.

The radical movement we have will not engage in practical politics because compromise is anathema to it. Any honest account of the war would have to admit that Israel has the right to defend itself against attack. It is just that the military position it finds itself in now may well make its war aims impossible and therefore immoral.

You can see why practical politics has no appeal. Where is the violent satisfaction in sober analysis,  the drama in compromise? Where is the Manichean distinction between the absolute good of the Palestinians and the pure evil of Israel?  

Meanwhile, ever since the Israeli victory in the Six Day War of 1967, you have been able to say that Jewish settler sites on the West Bank were placed there deliberately to make a peace settlement impossible, and ensure that Israel controlled all the territory from “the river to the sea” forever.

A serious left might try to revive a two-state solution by building an international consensus that the settlements must go. Once again, however, that is too tame an aim. For the fellow traveller watching Palestine from a safe distance, satisfaction comes only by embracing Hamas’s call for the destruction of Israel. Some progressives try to dress up the urge to destroy by pretending that Jews and Palestinians will go on to live together in some happy-clappy, multi-ethnic and multi-confessional state. But most must know they are advocating a war to the death. What makes their position so disreputable is that, if they thought about it calmly, they would know it would be a war that only Israel could win. It is the Israelis who have the nuclear weapons, after all.

The worst of the global left is dilettantish. It advocates a maximalist position which has a minimal chance of success - just for the thrill of it. David Caute, a historian of fellow travelling with Stalin and communism said that the endorsement of communism by fellow travelling intellectuals in the West “deepened the despair” of Soviet intellectuals. “In their darkest hours they heard themselves condemned by their own kind”.

The 2020s are not the 1930s. I am sure that, if I were a Palestinian in Gaza, my sole concern would be the removal of Israeli forces that threatened me and my family. I would either not care about demonstrations in the West or I would receive some comfort from the knowledge that people all over the world were protesting on my behalf.

Nevertheless, a kind of betrayal is still at work. By inflaming and amplifying the worst elements in Palestine the global left is giving comfort to the worst elements in Israel, which are equally determined to make a compromise impossible.

The New Statesman made that point well when it ran a piece by Celeste Marcus.   She came from the Zionist far right, and was taught doctrines that dehumanised Palestinians. She grew up and grew away from the prejudices of her childhood and became a liberal. But after she moved into her new world, she “recognised immediately that progressive leftists feel about Israelis the way radical Zionists feel about Palestinians: these are not real people.”

The result is that for all its power on the streets and in academia the global left is almost an irrelevance.

“To influence Israel,” she writes, “one must be willing to recognise it. Since leftist leaders cannot bother to do this, they cannot be of real use to Palestinians. This is a betrayal of their own cause.”

The dilettantism of fellow travelling always ends in betrayal and denial for the reason Auden gave: terror is always more tolerable when it happens far, far away.

[mapsontheweb]

Map of werewolf witch trials

by subthings2

   Mapping the location of 223 witch trials that included accusations of turning into a wolf, mostly based on Lorey's online list (just under 200 listed). Blécourt gives a few corrections to Lorey's list, Klaniczay has 13 Hungarian trials, and Madar, Metsvah and Winkler collectively give 14 Estonian trials; Metsvah says there are 30 recorded in Estonia in total, but data on the rest weren't provided. When a location has multiple trials, the crosses form a circle around the city so as to not overlap - this is most obvious for Tallinn, Riga, and Sopron.  

   The initial point was to visualise how the trials spread over time, but what it also makes really obvious is how tightly clustered most of them are - this matches how regional the witch trials in general were, but also that beliefs in werewolves weren't evenly spread across Europe; hence the lack of anything in Great Britain, Basque Country, but weirdly also Scandinavia where southern Sweden is known for having a decent number of werewolves in its folklore.  

   Finally, after going through all of Lorey's descriptions, there's a few that stood out that I wanted to share (machine translated from German):  

   1619 Tonnis Steven von Grevenstein, shepherd in Kallenhardt (Electoral Cologne Office of Rüthen). “Out of pain and unbearable torment, I had to say that  I was a magician and a Wehrwolf, but God in heaven knows that everything is a lie and I have never seen a devil in my life.”  

   1652 Wilhelm Scheffern, shepherd from Metterich (di Metternich near Münstermaifeld, Kurtrier). One of the reasons he was talked about was because - in contrast to his successors - there were never any losses due to wolf attacks during his time as a shepherd. "It is entirely believed that the defendant could turn himself into a werewolf" (6th count) and "that he ... once made himself invisible in the field" (point 15). However, previously in points 2 and 3 "that his "The father was burned because of the vice" and "that the defendant's sisters were burned years ago because of the vice of magic." (Court verdict not received; according to Krämer, however, probably executed.)  

   1661 Cuno Jung, a shepherd from Westerburg, had not defended himself strongly enough against being called a werewolf. Because his parents were already under suspicion and his sister had been executed as a witch, he spoke out against the witchcraft trials. He also refused to take part in an execution as a lay judge. He once even tried to buy his way out as an observer at a witch trial. Executed in Westerburg.  

   there's also the WAR WLF of Lemgo, featuring this funky little guy that's also had several people write about the rather unfunky little trial  

   the single case aaaall the way up in Finland is Erkki Juhonpoika  

   Sources:  

   Willem de Blécourt, ‘The Differentiated Werewolf: An Introduction to Cluster Methodology’, Werewolf Histories (2015), pg 7  

   Gábor Klaniczay, Bengt Ankerloo & Gustav Henningson (ed.), ‘Hungary: The Accusations and the Universe of Popular Magic’, Early Modern European Witchcraft: Centres and Peripheries (1993) pg 254, footnote 122  

   Elmar Lorey, ‘Werwolfprozesse in der Frühen Neuzeit’, http://www.elmar-lorey.de/prozesse.htm (2000)  

   Maia Madar, Bengt Ankerloo & Gustav Henningson (ed.), ‘Estonia I: Werewolves and Poisoners’, Early Modern European Witchcraft: Centres and Peripheries (1993), pg 270-271  

   Merili Metsvah, Willem de Blécourt (ed.), ‘Estonian Werewolf History’, Werewolf Histories (2015), pg 210 & footnote 25  

   Rudolf Winkler, ‘Uber Hexenwahn und Hexenprozesse in Estland wahrend der Schwedenherrschaft’, Baltische Monatsschrift, 67 (1909), pg 333-4  

#maps #subthings2 #rdsourced #werefolf #witches #europe

[freddie-77-ao3]

Percy Jackson-esque Chapter Titles for a fic i'm writing:

We have friends in holy places (and unholy- Hello Lady Hera!)

What’s Up, Random Person, We’re Kidnapping and Adopting You

Yeah, The Beach Is Nice- Thank You For Not Drowning Us

Hazel Was Dead and Still Knows More Than You

Thank Fuck For The Egyptian- How the Hell Did We End Up In Great Britain

Annabeth Is Obsessed and Bianca Is Possessed- There Goes Christmas

Question Of Our Lives and Today Especially: What The Hell Is Going On?!

Now Would Be A Good Time To Be Anyone Else

Call The Police Because We May Have Just Murdered A Mortal

Ask And You Shall Receive… Sometime In The Next Twenty Years Probably

A Guinea Pig, A Dandelion, A Pine Tree, An Olive Tree and Two Embarrassed Girls Walk Into A Bar  

Satan Or Santa? Neither Should Exist And Yet Somehow They’re Both Knocking On Our Tent Door

A Slight Reprieve From The Last Chapter: Connor Comes For You With The Question ‘Do Tents Have Doors?’

And We’re Back, Why Did You Guys Think Our R&R Would Last Long?

Sugar, Spice, Almost Dying Twice (Today)

Would You Put ‘Cheating Death Almost Daily’ Under Experience Or Special Skills?

An Inspirational Trip Through Hell- Persephone Makes Good Brownies

Those Commercials Where People Screw Up The Most Basic Of Tasks In The Most Idiotic Fashion Ever Describes The Current Situation

As The Prophecy Foretold (We Made It Up, But It Came True)

Living Normally? In This Economy?

And Then The Wolves Came… Sike (Thank Fuck)

The Snails Paced Chocolate Bunny Gives Mixed Messages But Good Cereal

What The Hades Is Going On, Someone Explain

Apparently Exploding A Volcano Makes Us 'Irresponsible’

Why Are Cats So Vengeful 

Oh Look! An Unhelpful Old Person!

The Adults Are More Annoying Than Leo Valdez and Nico Di Angelo Put Together

They Scream For Ice Cream, I Scream For Sanity

McDonald’s And Raising The Dead- Tuesday Never Looked So Good

Unfortunately, I’m Still Not Dead Or A Dolphin (Not For Lack Of Effort)

Eggs Apparently Don’t Like Being Lost At Sea

I’m Packing Up My Crayons And Leaving

Viva La Pluto, Fuck You Guys

A Guide To Giving Up

Hopefully We Can Do This Without Dying This Time

Lady Dirt Face Fucks Us Over- Apparently Today CAN Get Worse

Apparently The Horse Is A God, And Honestly, Fuck The World- But Not You Potty Sludge

If Love Is In The Air Then We’re Wearing Gas Masks- How We Almost Started A War On Accident

If Love Is An Open Door We Should Close It- Aphrodite And Cupid Both Suck

Vegan Ice Cream Sandwiches For One

I Call Shotgun (Said The Invisible Girl  and The Literal Ghost)

I Fucked My Way Into This Mess, I’ll Fuck My Way Out Of It

Things Go Horribly Wrong (Or Horribly Right? It’s Hard To Tell At This Point)

The Fine Art Of Bullshit

We Are Being Hunted And Killed (Why Is This Normal And How Can We Stop It?)

Previously On ‘The Chaos Chronicles”

Cool, Cool, Cool, Cool. Actually It’s Not- Who Lit Katie’s Hair On Fire?!

I’d Like To Say This Is Shocking, But That Would Just Be A Lie

One Hundred And One Monsters, And Twenty Times A Therapist Was Needed

I Am Honestly Surprised That We Are Still Alive, And Apparently So Are The Gods

You Will Never Be A God

Blackmail Only Works If I Care

An Offer I Can Definitely Refuse

Hush Little Baby, Don’t You Cry, You’ll Give Away Our Location, And Then We’ll Die

Only Come Back With Back Up Or A Burger- Maybe Donuts

Doomsday Or Not, Let Me Go Back To Bed, I Haven’t Slept In A Week And I Don’t Care

Practise Doesn’t Make Perfect, Practise Makes A Forest Fire And A Flood

Sea Foam Speaks and A New Person Shatters My Dreams

The Labyrinth Apparently Doesn’t Murder The Already Dead, So Can We Just Die Already?

For A Moment I Forgot Gravity, And As It Seems So Did The Sky, Which Is Good Because I’d Hate To Die Before Breakfast

And God Told Us To Run A Marathon- What Happened To Normal Executions?

At Some Point The Universe Just Needs To Kill Us

There Is Not Enough Faith For This, 

No Words Can Explain Dan, The God Of Moths and Accidental Demon Summoning 

 The Endless and Mysterious Ocean Becomes A Bit Less So, And I Should Have Paid For Diving Lessons

If Best Plus Bitter Equal Better, Then I Am Way Better Than Everyone

Firecrackers And Actual Crackers- Where Is The Cheese

He Likes Art. Terrible Art, But Still Art So I Suppose I’ll Forgive The Sword Through My Head

Hazel Drives Worse Than Thalia Which Says A Lot Because Thalia Crashed Into A Lake- Oh Wait

What Do You Do When The World Almost Ends- And No Nico, The Answer Isn’t Go To McDonalds

This Wasn’t Supposed To Happen (Just Like Me)

Can I Rewrite My Life Story, Because If So I’m Starting With This

I Wasn’t Prepared For Parenthood When I Stopped A Kidnapping, I’m Seven

Patting My Own Back, No One Appreciates Me, Fuck This And Really The Rest Of My Life

Apparently Dying Is Not An Excuse For Being Late, So Fuck You Too 

Buying Happy Meals For The Dead Isn’t An Excuse For Being Late

Caped God? I Was Hoping You Had Said Cape Cod

Incoherent Screaming Is Our Theme Song, And I Feel A New Episode On

Who Told Apollo He Could Give Us Presents, Because MCR Is Not A Proper Wake Up Call

It’s Jesus Who Ruined Our Lives This Time, Folks

Don’t Awaken The Ancient One, She Has Anxiety

I Did Not Know That Could Kill Someone, But You Learn Something New Every Day

The Gods Themselves Want Me Dead, You’re Not Special, Todd

Doritos And Death, A How To On Properly Waking And Raising The Dead Featuring A Trip To Alaska

What Was I Thinking? I’m Pretty Certain I Wasn’t

News To No One: The Previously Dead Can’t Drive

I Really Hate Saving The World Actually

How Many Times Is That Threat Going To Work Considering It’s Not Serious? A Surprising Number

Everyone Asks Who We Are, Not How We Are, And Honestly I’m Pretty Hungry

The Gods Hate Me And I Don’t Know Why (I Do Know Why, But I Don’t Care, And Honestly They Shouldn’t Either)

 Which Circle Of Hell Are We In Now, Because I Was Not Planning On A Field Trip To Tartarus

We Master The Elements (Some Of Them- We Also Torch And Flood New England)

In Which We Almost Die Again And No One Bats An Eye

 Our Lives Would Be Incredibly Saddening If We Could Sit Down And Look At Them, But Leo Burned Our Chairs 

The Houseplants Try To Eat Us, And Katie Gets Mad

We Babysit For A God, And Then Adopt His Kids- Surprisingly He’s Fine With This

Dreams Do Come True And That Is Absolutely Not A Good Thing

There Goes My Best Bargaining Chip (Oh And Also His Head)

A Series Of Horrible Decisions- Who Decided I Was The Leader

Hylla, Please Don’t Leave Us- Oh, You Can Give Us A Box Of Cereal? Nevermind 

Sunshine And Rainbows Are Meant To Mean Happiness Not War- Iris and Apollo Destroy Things

Please Don’t Hit Me With Another Brick

We Were Happy And Then There Was A Giant Pigeon

Oh My Holy Fucking Shit That Was Not The Right Lever

In Which Swimming With Sharks Almost Leads To Death And Yet Saves Our Lives

There Is No Highway To Hell As It Turns Out, Only Backroads, And Now Nico And Thalia Are Disappointed

And Then The Sky Almost Crushed Us Because It Fell And Honestly I’m Never Trusting You Again

There Goes Normal Society, Say Bye-Bye, Miranda 

Are We Supposed To Live Through This?

The Dick Who Hands Out Toothbrushes Also Assigns Us A Death Quest And This Is Why We Don’t Celebrate Holidays

Sorry For Cursing You Out, Please Fix My Life

The Plan Checks Out- We Can Do This! (Spoiler Alert- We Can’t)

Three Hundred And Sixty Five Times We Can Say Fuck In A Hour

Please Let Me Pass Out On Your Lawn

Apparently Yelling Fuck At The Sky Is Considered ‘Disrespectful’ And I Haven’t A Fucking Clue Why

Yes Sir, That Is A Lot Of Blood, And No Sir, She Doesn’t Need That Leg

That One Time We Accidentally End Up In The Slaughter Sea, And How That Manages To End Up With A New Leader Of The Amazon Empire And Thalia Gets A Girlfriend

Yes, I’m Aware I Look Gay, Thank You Very Much, I’m Here To Be Queer

This Person Is Nico di Angelo With Less Shits To Give, And Honestly That Scares Me

A Good Idea With Bad Results And A Bad Idea With Surprising Results- The Ending Will Astound You

Never Thought I’d Literally Be Shut In The Closet Again, But Life’s Full Of Surprises

One Million Pounds Of Oranges And Sadness, Sixty Thousand Pounds Of Mangos, And A Truck Full Of Happiness- Monsters Not Welcome

Who Packed The Blueberry Muffins?

Nevertheless She Persisted, And Yet Just Like That, She Gave Up

What The Hell Is This, What The Hell Is That, Why The Hell Am I Here, What The Hell, *Moonwalks Into Hell*: A Brief Summary Of Life

All Is Fair In Being The First One In The Shower

We Accidentally Summon An Army Of Lost Souls

All Our Nightmares Come True And We Prove We’re Idiots

Life Gave ‘Lia Lemons. She Squeezed Them In My Eyes. Please No More Lemons.

Trying To Play Nice To The Gods Never Ends Well. In Other Words, Percy Is An Olive Tree

What’s Happening? I’m Digging My Own Grave, That’s What

Finger Guns, Peace Signs, and Middle Fingers To Nowhere- Home At Last

In Jason’s Defense, He Tried, But The Dragon Was More Interesting

Keeping A Family Alive Can Be Difficult, Especially With No Education and More Monsters A Day Than Cash (Twenty Dollars)

Thalia Tries To Sing Over Annabeth And Percy Arguing And All That Happens Is A Noise Complaint

At This Point, Murder Is Less Of A Passing Thought And More Of An ‘It’s Only A Matter Of Time’

Cousin Bonding Time Doesn’t Usually Include The Gods, But There Are Burgers So…

According To The Crazy Titan Lord Kronos, Asking If A Newborn Looks Like A Rock Is A Question That Will Result In The Death Of The Asker

Oh Joy, I’m Facing Scrutiny Over My Love Life From Immortal Preteens

Oh Things Couldn’t Be Worse When Your Parents Run The Universe Oh Things Couldn’t Be Worse When There’s A Vote To Kill Us (Leo stop using Jazz hands!)

We Have The Worst Family Reunion Ever 3.0

Barbed Wire Instead Of String, The Fates Hate Me More Than You Might Think

Zombies, Zombies Everywhere, Wave Your Hands Up In The Air

The World Is A Different Place When You Know What The World Is (Spoiler Alert: It’s Your Murderous Great Grandma)

The Refrigerator Seems Empty, Much Like My Soul

Ah, The Smell Of Success, It Smells Like Bullshit

My Heart Is Broken (Like Those Crackers That Bianca’s Eating)

Utter Chaos: Now Featuring Camp Half Blood And Literal Blood

Family Drama Destroys My Life

Family Drama 2.0: Family Drama Destroys California

So Then A God Says We ‘Will Save Humanity���, And Thalia Says ‘What The Fuck’

Two Middle Aged Women Start Screaming In Walmart

The Main Braincell Holder Is Asleep, God Doesn’t Exist, And Starting Forest Fires Is A Normal Way To Deal With Stress

Hell Is Just Life On Steroids

Queerly Beloved, We Are Gathered Here Togay… A.K.A. A Bet Ruins Rachel Elizabeth Dare’s Life

Normal People Would Avoid This, But The Two Most Normal People Here Used To Be Dead Or Will Die When A Stick Lights On Fire, So We Can’t Have High Hopes

We Try (And Fail, But Hey, It’s The Thought That Counts, Right?)

So THAT’S Where The Greek Fire Went. Sorry, Bus Driver.

Percy Has His Gay Awakening In The Form Of His Grandfather (Technically. He’s Also Technically His First Cousin Once Removed Or Something- Annabeth’s cousin maybe?)

You're Annoying Me To Death With Your Monologue So I Have To Kill You Now

What Can Go Wrong Will Go Wrong Doesn’t Mean You Should Set My Bed On Fire

Thalia Does Shock Therapy Meaning She Electrocutes People When They Say Things 

We Should Know By Now That Yelling Doesn't Solve Things But We Don’t, And The Gods Don’t Either

Most Of My Life Is Incredibly Traumatizing, But This Is New 

Who The Fuck Invited The Norse?!

Okay, I Thought The Norse Were Enough, Why Are The Magicians Here?

Wow. Popcorn. The Roman’s Worst Nightmare. 

So First The World Almost Ends, And Then The World Ends But It Gets Better, And Now It’s Ending Again?

Prophecies Can Fuck Off, And So Can Apollo

“Treacherous Nephew In The Tuxedo” Should Sound Funny, But It Doesn’t, And That Makes Leo Sad

 Why Is A Titan Making Dad Jokes? 

Falling Into A Dumpster Was The Highlight Of My Day, What Is Life

Grieving For The Living Is Just As Hard As Grieving For The Dead

Please Forget That I Tried To Kill You

In My Defence, An Invisible Higher Power Who Has The Ability To Strike Me Down Made Me Do It

Let Out A Boo For The Boom Man

Twenty McDonald’s Happy Meals And A Gun- Godly Gifts Are Awesome

We Enter The Maze Of Doom (This Time With Fabulous Prizes)

Two Brothers Are Not Happy As A Sister Cheers On Two More Brothers As They Duel To The Death- (Triton & Tyson & Kymopoleia & Percy & Anteus Have Sibling Bonding Time) 

The Eight Year Old With A Gun Manages To Save And Then Destroy A Life

Hello, I’m Queer, And Full Of Fear. Please Kill Me Now

Children Try To Make Plans (It Doesn’t Go So Well)

Thalia Grace Once Again Proves That Being A Demigod Really Fucking Sucks

It Don’t “Do Be Like That Sometimes” Leo, We Are In HELL

#pjo hoo toa #pjo #riordanverse #pjo series #pjo fandom #fanfiction #family forged

[cl-01-kestis]

Come Back, I Always Do - Fred Weasley x Female Ex!Reader | Part 1

Summary: You break up with Fred Weasley after being accepted into a school overseas. Things are going well after you’re sent back to Britain 6 years after to work in Hogwarts, but you soon realise your story with him isn’t quite finished like you imagined.

Warnings: slow burn, angst, break ups, everyone lives AU, reader is muggle-born

Part 2

You still remembered the day you left Fred Weasley, the two of you were sitting inside a small muggle cafe not far from Kings Cross, silent and scared to speak.

He knew it was coming, he often heard you speaking of your desire to work overseas and specialise in Magizoology. He loved hearing you speak about your plans for the future, but he feared the day it would come true.

Fred sat with tear stained cheeks over an untouched americano as he watched you explain your situation, showing him your acceptance letter into a magic university in New York. He was speechless, smiling through his tears as he read through the letter. But his heart was ready to cave in, he couldn’t process that it was all coming true.

The two of you nearly died in the battle of Hogwarts, although you were closer to death than he was. He and Molly held you in their arms as they tried to shake you awake, his cries being the only thing anyone heard in the great hall. He thought you had died, your body was so cold and still. But his mother managed to bring you back into consciousness with some form of unknown magic.

Yet here you were, leaving him again. Just when he thought he was safe, just when he thought you could both finally settle down, you were slipping through his fingers. You gave him a necklace which you wore everyday, marking a reminder of your love for him. Fred wanted to refuse it, angry that you couldn’t stay. But he couldn’t say no to you, especially when you were just as upset as he was.

You left him sitting alone in the cafe, trying not to sob on your way out as you clutched your acceptance letter tight.

Your parents comforted you when you returned home, knowing how difficult the situation was for you. Fred was your world, but there was no way he could come with you, and you couldn’t stay. They both helped you pack your things when the time came, all the books and endless magical necessities took a while to cram in, but you eventually managed.

New York was unlike anything you had ever experienced, it was busier than London, the people were somewhat the same, but you were completely alone with no one to support you. You wished Fred was there the whole time, trying not to get emotional when he popped up into your mind at any given moment.

When you unpacked your things in your dorm, you only realised that your mother had packed an old letter from Fred when you were both still in high school. You hung the letter up on your wall beside a bunch of other photos with your friends and family back home, wanting to remind yourself of what you once had.

Your degree took 5 years to complete, but the years felt like they went by quicker than you could cast a spell. One second you were starting your first lecture, the next you were graduating as a qualified magizoologist.

It wasn’t long before the job offers started piling in, most were in America but one job in particular caught your eye. To your delight and surprise, Hogwarts was in search of an advanced Magizooligist teacher. You remember there wasn’t a teacher for that subject when you studied there, so there must’ve been a high request from students for a new and more experienced Magizoologist.

So you applied for the job as soon as possible, packing what was necessary for the interview in Scotland. Albus called off the job for anyone else as soon as he saw that you had applied. He didn’t want to put you through an interview, he had to since it was protocol, but he knew you were perfectly capable of teaching at Hogwarts. When he read your resume alongside Minerva, the two of them knew you’d be the perfect fit.

The interview was very comfortable, McGonagall was the one asking you the questions but she had a bright smile on her face the entire time. She was delighted to have you back in Hogwarts, regardless if you got the job or not.

To no one’s surprise, you aced the interview with flying colours and you were offered your own place to stay in Hogwarts. You called your parents and told them the news, the both of them were teary and excited beyond measure, inviting you out for a celebratory meal as a result.

One week later you were leaving your old apartment in New York and moving to Hogwarts. You were shown to your new classroom which had been unused for quite some time and spent hours decorating it with McGonagall and a few helpful elf’s. You made it feel like home rather than a classroom, setting up a kettle and teabags in the corner as well as a few candles and cushions. You set up your surgical tools by your desk, also bringing in different medicines, ready for display to the advanced students. For the younger students, you made simple diagrams of different magic animals and even set up a fun quiz for them to partake. You were having so much fun and school hadn’t even started yet.

News had broke out that a new teacher had arrived at Hogwarts, it even made it to the daily prophet, displayed within a small article on the front page. It just so happened that Arthur Weasley was reading it on a Sunday afternoon, the majority of his kids out tie house, when all of a sudden he spotted an oddly familiar name. He asked Molly where he had heard the name before but his thoughts were cut off when his wife let out a loud scream, snatching the newspaper from his hands as he looked at her worriedly.

The short woman smiled widely, calling on Ron who was currently visiting with Hermione, now his fiancé. The two of them ran into the kitchen with concerned expressions, until they realised no one was in danger.

“Mum, what’s the screaming for?!” Ron groaned, splaying his arms out before crossing them over his chest. Hermione let out a soft chuckle and curiously peeked at the newspaper in her soon-to-be mother in law’s hands.

“(Y/N) (S/N) is the new magizoology teacher at Hogwarts!” Molly yelled excitedly, turning the paper around and pointing to the small article underneath the large heading of a different subject. Ron and Hermione looked at each other in surprise, the both of them smiling. But Ron found his smile leaving his face, looking at his mum.

“Do you think Fred knows?” His voice was quiet, remembering the downfall of your relationship from 6 years ago. Hermione’s smile dropped off too, and so did Mollies and Arthur’s. Everyone went silent, until Molly cleared her throat and smiled sadly.

“He never reads the news, maybe it’s best we don’t tell him” She patted Ron on the shoulder, handing the newspaper back to her husband who decided to read the rest of your article, sipping his cup of coffee as Molly lead her son and his fiancée into the living room.

“Maybe we should invite her to the wedding? She’s still an old family friend, she was always there for Ron, Harry and I during high school” Hermione reasoned with the mother and son, but Molly wasn’t sure. Fred was distraught after you left, he went to his mother almost every night for closure, wanting to know he did a good job as your boyfriend. Molly remembers his drop in happiness and fulfilment, she remembers George fearing for his health nearly everyday. If he saw you now, Molly wasn’t sure how he’d react. The two of you would absolutely see each other if you were both invited to the wedding, but it wasn’t her decision to invite you. It was Ron and Hermione’s.

“If you invite her, please take note that not everything will go as planned. Their breakup was devastating for the both of them, they might still need time away from each other” Molly whispered, aware of the other kids in the house. George and Ginny were visiting briefly, the two of them up in their own bedrooms, but Molly couldn’t risk either of them hearing, especially George.

“We’ll have a think about it, thanks mum” Ron smiled warmly towards Molly, assuring her as she nodded her head and headed back into the kitchen. Hermione tugged Ron’s jumper, looking at him with bright eyes.

“We need to invite her” She muttered quietly, taking his hand into her own.

“I know, but should we really?” Ron pressed a kiss to her knuckle, unable to resist showering her with affection every minute.

“If we put aside Fred, we should still invite her, you know how much she did for us in high school” Mione reasoned, making sure her tone wasn’t too loud in case anyone upstairs was nosing around.

“Maybe you’re right” Ron sighed, looking at his fiancée’s small engagement ring which gleamed brightly under the candlelight of the living room.

“Come on, let’s go upstairs” Hermione kissed his cheek, beckoning him back to their room as he grumbled to himself.

-

Term had finally started. There was a particular buzz emitting around the students, desperate to meet their new Magizoology teacher. You were blissful and content about your new job, your skin humming with nervous anticipation. You weren’t sure how the students would react to you, you hoped they felt comfortable and attentive to your teaching. You didn’t wear any formal teaching uniform, you felt like Magizoology wasn’t the type of subject to mingle well with formal wear. So you opted for a jumper and jeans, your wand slipped haphazard in your back pocket.

As you were teaching during your second week at Hogwarts, explaining the primary organs of a Chimera, Mrs McGonagall slipped through the door to hand you a small letter with a wax stamp. You thanked her and slipped it into your drawer, continuing to teach as you sat on your desk. After you finished your lectures to the 6th years, you gave them a small surprise quiz about various medicines to treat magic creatures. You heard a few groans echo around the class, but that didn’t deter you from handing them out.

As the students sat their quiz, you opened up the mysterious envelope from your drawer. You slipped out the letter as quietly as possible, eyes scanning the impressively fancy calligraphy at the top. Your heart couldn’t help but drop when you read the heading, eyes unblinking as you read over the two names displayed on the letter.

‘Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger invite you to their wedding at The Burrow on the 1st of October with friends and family’

You wanted to throw up, not because of the wedding but because you hadn’t heard the name Weasley in almost 7 years. You didn’t even feel worthy of going to their wedding, you felt like you needed to phone them and talk things through.

Contact details and the address were at the bottom of the letter, Hermione’s being the first one. You excused yourself from the class, knowing the call wouldn’t take long and the quiz wouldn’t finish for another hour, and ran to your room to fetch your telephone. You stood out into the hallway, nearby the window so your service didn’t drop as you dialled Hermione’s number.

It rang for a solid 30 seconds, each ring making you feel more and more thinned out. But to your relief, she finally answered with a short and casual ‘hello?’.

“Hermione, it’s (Y/N)” You called her name with a smile, one of your hands pressed against your chest as you tried to suppress your anxiety.

“(Y/N)?! Merlin’s beard you have no idea how good it is to hear from you! I’m assuming you got the letter?” Hermione was ecstatic as she spoke to you, yet you couldn’t help but think she also sounded rather nervous.

“I did indeed, but I just want to ask why?” You look out into the breathtaking scenery of the highlands through the glass, holding onto the stone window ledge as you patiently waited for her response.

“Well… we realised you were back from New York after seeing you in the papers, so we thought we might as well ask” Hermione’s voice was hopeful, she felt awkward explaining why she invited you but she was sure you understood.

“I see, and who’s we?” You ask, a hint of worry in your tone. Hermione paused, taking in your question and realising what you meant.

“Just me and Ron, Molly and Arthur know as well but they’re leaving the situation to us” The young witch assured. Your eyes grew cloudy when you heard Hermione mention Molly and Arthur, they were practically your family at a point in your life, now they’re strangers, it stung much worse than you anticipated.

“You sure you want me at the wedding? I mean, heaven forbid you know who sees me, Mione, he would never recover” You argue calmly, chewing your bottom lip as your hand anxiously tapped against the stone ledge.

“Is it really that bad to say his name? He’s not voldemort, (Y/N)” Hermione scoffed with a grin, but you couldn’t feel amused, you couldn’t think of his name without wanting to cry.

“I know, it’s hard enough to think about him” You admit, straying away from the window and back to your living quarters. Hermione went silent at the other end of the phone, almost as if she was sad to hear you say such a thing and didn’t know how to respond. You couldn’t blame her.

“If you go, I’ll do my best to make sure you stay away from each other, all of us will if that’s what you want” She suggested.

“Don’t be silly, it’s your wedding day, you shouldn’t be worrying about me,” You groan. “Plus I haven’t seen you in 6 years, I’m not even sure I’m close enough to attend” There was something sorrowful laced in your tone. Hermione gasped and frowned on the other side of the line.

“You are closer than most of the attendees, (Y/N), aside from your connection to the Weasley’s, you helped us more than anyone else did in high school, you certainly helped me learn a thing or two” The brunette vouched for you strongly.

“Still, maybe not everyone will agree.”

“Well there’s only one way to find out” She raised a brow, and you had no other choice but to roll your eyes and chuckle softly to yourself.

“What time does the reception start?” You smile.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

#x reader #harry potter x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you

[alatismeni-theitsa]

God, I always hate that in posts where indigenous people are calling out the denial of European governments in their respective roles in the slave trade/colonialism/imperi8 and the refusal to take accountability for it and without fail, you always get a smug Usian in the replies being like "lmao yeah fuck europe!" With absolutely zero self awareness

Fuck these people to hell and back. Just because they can't bother to look up the EIGHT (!) European countries which did the colonizing, they curse the whole continent of 45 countries.

I repeat: 8 countries out of the fucking 45 (or 50 depending who you ask) countries! And many of us Europeans were second class citizens and traded as slaves during "the colonial period".

These 8 countries are: Great Britain, France, Spain, Portugal, the Netherlands, Germany, Belgium, and Italy.

Also, every fucking time a post about France is out there, without fail, multiple of them say "fuck the French". AS IF they know ANYTHING about France except 1-2 historical moments. They don't even live close to France, they don't even interact with French people, they don't know the real reasons someone might dislike France. They have just inherited a hate for France because of previous centuries and don't know what the fuck they're talking about.

I'm sorry....does France have any fucking power over you - the US - atm, or you just want to bitch and moan while other nations - Greece included - are at the mercy of whims of French politicians? Or have we forgotten how many French (and Belgian and German) politicians have been keeping Greece under a financial leash after our our country became poorer because we saved their damned banks??

Still... I'll take a French guy any day over a USAmerican guy because the USian guy is usually the most snob and out of touch of the two. Oh, and the US has fucked up my country worse then France at this point, and is easily the most powerful Empire at the moment.

I'm not against calling out colonialist powers but fuck everyone who speaks bullshit with such confidence. I want delusional USians to SHUT UP

#us centrism #answered #colonization #colonialism #imperialism

[sergeantbuckybarnes]

you belong with me (part 2) // fred weasley

Summary: You’re stubborn, so when your best friend tries to convince you that Bucky Barnes isn’t the right guy for you, you try to prove him wrong. In the process, you end up in a place you thought only existed in books, where you meet the one.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader (eventually)

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: mentions of death, mentions of war, 

A/N: As always, remember English is not my first language. Also, thanks to @error501beta​ for proofreading this!

part 1 | main masterlist

Avengers Compound, New York City, USA, 2017

Peter was terrified. The alarms blared as he frantically examined the room for any trace of you. But you weren't there. You'd vanished right in front of his eyes. He knelt down and picked up the wand off the floor, which was undamaged despite the heavy impact.

As if on cue, a furious Tony Stark strode into the room, making Peter feel very small. He snatched the wand from the boy's grasp before turning to examine the other items on the table to see whether Peter had also touched them.

“Mr. Stark, I—” Tony interrupted Peter before he could even begin to explain, refusing to listen to the boy's reasons.

“Go to the living room.”

“But–”

“NOW!”

Peter gulped. He obeyed and quickly left the laboratory, not wanting to aggravate the situation. Wanda, Bucky, Steve, Sam, and Natasha were already assembled when he entered the living room.

“They must have been awakened by the alarm,” he reasoned.

Peter was not a fan of being the center of attention, so with all eyes on him, he only grew more anxious.

“Peter? What happened?” Your sister was the one who approached him first. She expected you to be with him, but she became concerned when she didn't see you standing next to your best friend. “Where is Y/N?”

Everyone noticed how Peter's expression changed when he heard your name, and they realized something was wrong.

“Where is Y/N, Peter?” Wanda tried to maintain a calm voice, but her emotions overpowered her, causing her to waver.

You were the only thing she had left — you were her younger sister, and something was obviously wrong. The boy's silence was only making matters worse.

Peter watched as Wanda began to lose control, her eyes burning crimson and a spark of red smoke escaping from her palms. Fearful, he took a step back.

Steve grabbed Wanda's shoulder and gave her a reprimanding look. He wanted to know where you were as well, but there was a better way to go about it.

“Alright, kid. You mind telling us what the hell happened there?” Tony Stark walked into the room with his arms folded across his chest and a stern expression on his face.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland, Great Britain, 1994

You took a deep breath before entering the Great Hall. No longer dressed in your pajamas but in the Gryffindor uniform issued by Minerva McGonagall.

When the woman had caught you in the corridors, she had noticed something strange about you. And in her office, although you were terrified, she let you speak. When you told her how you got there, she had believed you, much to your surprise.

She and Dumbledore had cautioned you not to use your unusual magic because it could frighten the other students. Nonetheless, with a thrum of your fingers, you conjured a wand, figuring it would come in handy to blend in.

They clearly had no idea how to return you to your universe, but you told them that your friends back home would find a solution, at least you hoped they would. They were the Avengers. And they had Tony Stark. He was a brilliant inventor. A genius, as he liked to call himself. You were sure he had something in the lab that would bring you back home before you knew it.

In the meantime, you had decided to maintain the deception you already told the Golden Trio — you were an Ilvermory exchange student.

Taking a deep breath, you looked around the room, trying to figure out where you were supposed to sit. It felt like the first day of school all over again. You could deal with monsters and aliens, but nothing could compare to trying to navigate the school hierarchy.

You knew each house was allotted a table, but did that mean you could sit next to anyone? What if they called you off? What if they had reserved a seat for a friend?

Fortunately, your overthinking was cut short when your name was called. You scanned the benches until you noticed Hermione Granger waving from a few feet away.

With a relieved sigh, you approached her. "Hi," you smiled as you took a seat next to her. You noticed Ron and Harry on her right, who gave you a wave.

“You got into Gryffindor!”

“Oh,” you said, peering down at your tie, “yeah.” Yet another lie. While you were here, it appeared that this was going to become a habit.

The sorting hat hadn’t assigned you a house, instead Dumbledore let you choose your own house, which you thought was odd. Even though you weren't a true witch in their eyes, and you were just a guest here, you would have thought they would like to follow the rules, for the appearances at least. But you didn’t question it.

Your attention was drawn to someone's obnoxious throat-clearing. When you raised your gaze, you noticed two identical redheads seated across from you on the bench, looking at you expectantly.

You guessed they were Ron’s brothers. Fred and George.

“Who are you?” One of them asked.

“I’m Y/N. I’m an exchange student from Ilvermory,” the lie was not yet smooth on your tongue.

The boy squinted his eyes. “Are you?”

“Yes, I am.” You tried to push more conviction into your voice. After all, it wouldn’t be the last time you’d have to tell this lie, so the sooner you started believing it yourself the better.

He and his brother continued to stare at you shamelessly. It wouldn’t have bothered you under different circumstances, you were used to people staring, but from them it made you uncomfortable. They seemed to be able to see right through you.

“You don’t look American to me.”

“Fred!” Hermione chastised him at the same time you replied, “That’s because I’m not.”

You cursed yourself. You couldn't keep the words from coming out of your mouth. They were all staring at you now, expecting you to explain yourself.

“I moved to America a few years ago, after my brother's death,” you explained. You didn't like talking about Pietro with anybody other than Wanda, but you'd already blown your cover, so you had no choice but to keep going.

You noticed how the mood shifted, and cursed yourself again; the last thing you wanted was for these strangers to feel sorry for you.

“I was born in Sokovia. It’s a small country in Eastern Europe,” you explained.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. That had to be horrible,” Hermione placed a hand on your shoulder and gently squeezed it. You cracked a small smile at her.

“It's fine. Wanda is still with me.”

You honestly didn't know what you would have done if you had also lost Wanda that day. Your nightmares were still disturbed by the vision of Pietro falling on his knees, ripped full of holes.

“Is that an animal or something?”

You shifted your gaze to Ron.

‘Was he serious?’

“Wanda is my older sister.” Guilt flooded Ron's features.

“Please excuse him; he lacks all tact,” the other twin spoke for the first time since you had been seated at the table. Because Hermione had addressed the other as Fred, this had to be George.

“Is Wanda also here?” Hermione wondered.

‘I wish.’

“No, she isn't. She’s older. She completed her studies many years ago.”

“So you moved to America first, and now to England? Are you running from something?”

George elbowed his brother in the ribs when the older twin voiced the question.

“Are you always this stupid, or are you making a special effort today?” You flung back defensively.

“I’m just saying, your story doesn’t add up.” He raised his hand in surrender.

“Why? Because she needed to relocate twice? Perhaps it's because of her parents' occupation or–” Hermione came to a halt when she noticed you stiffen at the mention of your parents.

You don’t really have any memory of them. You were a baby when that missile hit your apartment, but you didn't like it when people brought them up. It served as a reminder that you didn't have them with you.

Hermione appeared to understand because it was visible when you looked at her; that sad expression.

“It doesn’t matter. I was a baby when it happened.” You looked at Fred, desperate to stop him asking any more questions. “I left Sokovia to start a new life with my sister because our country was at war, not a wizarding war, but a muggle war. Do you understand what that means? Bombs, missiles, people displaced, and children killed. I had to watch my brother bleed to death while he was mercilessly shot while attempting to save the life of a young boy. And if I had left America now, it's because I have every right to. You don't have to like me, but I'd appreciate it if you keep your assumptions to yourself.”

It wasn't technically a lie. The sequence of events was just wrong. You were a baby during the Cold War. You were thankful that you couldn't recall any of it. You, Pietro, and Wanda had to hide for two days for fear that the bomb that had hit your apartment would detonate. And you saw Pietro die as he gave his life for that child when the Ultron Project went to shit.

They were all staring at you, shocked. You may have been a little harsh, but you weren't going to sit there and do nothing while being accused of lying about your family.

As you stood up and walked out, you heard a faint voice say, “Well done, dimwit.” You weren't sure where you were headed because you weren't familiar with the castle, but anywhere would be better than sitting in the suffocating air of the Great Hall.

Avengers Compound, New York City, USA, 2015

It's been a week since you arrived here following the death of Pietro.

It’s been a week since you lost your brother.

It’s been a week since you found yourself in a new country, living among complete strangers.

It’s been a week since you left your room.

Your sister had come and knocked on your door multiple times, and you know it’s selfish of you to shut her out, after all, she had lost her twin brother, but you didn’t have it in you to see anyone now, including her.

You've never been adept at dealing with emotions; you felt like you were constantly being hit by a wave until you couldn't float any longer and drowned.

“Open the door, Y/N,” Wanda’s soft voice came from the other side of the door.

You knew she could have just stepped in if she wanted to. She only had to twitch her fingers for the door to break open. But she didn’t do it. Wanda knew better than that. Especially at this moment.

You ignored her, like you had done for the previous seven days.

“Please, Y/N,” You could hear your sister’s voice waver through the door, “I can’t lose you too.”

Without leaving your bed, you waved your fingers and heard the faint click of the door lock turning.

You heard footsteps approaching you and felt your bed dip a few seconds later.

Your gaze, fixed before on the wall, was now watching your sister. Wanda was sitting at the foot of your bed. It was the first time you had seen her since your arrival to America.

She was pale, her eyes were red – you could tell she'd been crying before coming to see you – she had heavy circles under her eyes, and her hair was unkempt. You hadn't looked in the mirror, but you couldn't appear any better than she did.

“How are you feeling?” she asked. It was a stupid question, she knew, but she wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to talk to you after you finally let her in.

“I don’t like it here.”

Wanda sighed, “Me neither.”

You sat up across from her on the bed. “Then why are we here? Why can’t we leave?”

“We have nowhere to go, Y/N.”

That’s when it hit you. You were alone. You didn’t have a home anymore.

“It’s going to be alright. We still have each other.” Wanda assured you. And for the first time in a week, you felt a shred of hope.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland, Great Britain, 1994

“Stupid Fred Weasley,” you muttered. You picked up a stone and hurled it into the lake in front of you. “I knew he was an idiot the moment I read the first book.”

You chose another rock and tossed it more forcefully this time. “He must think he's funny.”

“Oh, I'm pretty sure I'm rather amusing.”

You spun around to meet a tall, lanky redhead. You couldn't see it before in the Great Hall, but with the sunlight, you could see the freckles covering his nose and part of his cheeks, which gave an attractive warmth to his features.

“Well, I'm afraid I must inform you that you are incorrect.” You rolled your eyes and shifted your gaze back to the water.

This didn't dissuade the redhead, who instead of walking away stepped closer.

You huffed in annoyance, “What do you want?”

Nobody could deny that Fred Weasley had a way with words. He never stopped talking, but now that he was standing next to you with his hands in his pockets, he seemed a little nervous. It wasn’t the first time his big mouth had gotten him in trouble or his words hurt someone else. He didn't know you, yet he felt horrible that he was the source of your pain.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered so gently that you would have missed it if you weren't standing next to him.

“Come again?” You asked.

He took a deep breath and faced you, “I apologise for my behaviour earlier. I went too far, and I didn't intend to hurt you.”

“Are you always so distrusting of the new people you meet?”

“Not really.”

“Oh, so I’m the exception then.”

“Normally, we don't have any exchange students. You're the first one since I started studying here. So I thought that was strange.”

It wasn't the first time you'd been in a similar predicament. In fact, you could argue that your first day of high school in America was worse than this. Girls in high school were far worse than boys with big mouths and a penchant for pranks.

“Did your brother tell you to come apologize to me?”

“What?”

“Did your brother tell you to come apologize to me or are you here because you're really sorry?”

When he didn’t respond, you had your answer.

You chuckled, unamused. “Go back to the castle, Fred.”

“No. Wait, I’m truly sorry.”

“I’m sure you are.”

“What can I do to prove it to you?”

“What?” You asked, looking at him in disbelief. “You don’t have to do anything. I don’t give a shit about what you think.”

“But I want to prove that I’m honest.”

His tenacity was far from endearing.

“You really can’t take a no for an answer, can you?”

He shook his head, a stupid smile plastered on his face. You sighed, a small smile growing on your face as an idea to toy with him crossed your mind.

“Give me your hand.”

“What?” He asked, perplexed.

Fred hadn’t really thought about what you could ask him to do, but if he had your weird request wasn’t definitely on the list.

“I’m asking to hold your hand, not for you to marry me. You have held a girl’s hand before, right?”

“Of course I have.” He said defensively, like your suggestion was an offense to him.

Your tiny hand wrapped around his large one and looked into his eyes. He seemed tense, and he was looking everywhere but at you.

You found it amusing. You had never expected Fred Weasley to be this nervous around women. You expected a playful comment when you asked him to hold your hand, but instead, you got a startled 16-year-old boy who went rigid the moment your fingers touched.

‘Oh boy, this was a story you’d definitely tell Peter when you got back.’

“You have to look at me,” you explained, “or else it won't work.”

He frowned at your words and landed his gaze on you.

“What won’t work?”

“I’m gonna look into your soul.”

His eyes widened.

“To see if you are honest about being sorry.”

“Are you serious?” He asked you, incredulous.

“Of course I am,” you tried to sound serious and not to laugh at the face he was making. “It’s a gift I have.”

He raised his eyebrow, “Yeah, sure.”

“Do you want me to prove it?”

“Go ahead.”

With his eyes fixed on yours, hands clasped, and your best poker face you started your little revenge.

“So?” he asked, amused, after a few seconds. “Am I being honest?”

You pulled a face at him, “I can’t really tell.”

“Wow, What a surprise.”

“But, I did see something.”

“Really?” he said entertained, “Go on, surprise me.”

“How are things with Mr. Bagman?" you asked with a mischievous grin. "Did you already send that letter?”

The smile on Fred’s face dropped in the blink of an eye.

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x you #fred weasley fic #fred weasley one shot #harry potter imagine #fred and george weasley #marvel imagine

[the-catboy-minyan]

yeah, on top of the Holocaust related implications, they think jews are white colonizers from eastern Europe bc they refuse to accept that Medieval Ashkenaz is not actually where Jews are native to but were exiled to

and I mean, projecting much? it's ironic most of these calls are coming from white Americans, who, y'know, are actually descendants of white colonizers and living on stolen land?

you really have a problem with colonization? because I haven't seen you do anything about it happening at your home. seriously, if your moral compass is this wrong that you think 4th-5th generation Israelis are "evil white colonizers" for escaping pogroms and the fucking holocaust, why don't you care about how you are actually living on proven stolen land where native americans are discriminated against despite it being their native land?

and news flash, our ancestry, religion, culture, and archeological sights prove a connection to Israel. you know the word Judaism? like Judeah? you know, part of Israel?? that's literally where we're from, we're named after the geographical area we originated from.

do you fucking see me shouting "go back to Britain" at y'all? no, because that's not only a horrible thing to say, that's also fucking impossible.

and Idk it's 2am and I'm not sure where I'm going with this rant.

my great grandmother had to give up on her Polish passport and her right for her or her children to ever gain one to be allowed to leave Poland during ww2, she was a child back then and the only surviving member of her family, they literally said "wanna leave? sure, don't come back". my father and grandmother tried getting a polish passport decades later, and were denied. so yeah, I'm sure Poland would be very accepting of us Jews.

#antisemitism

[politicalprof]

A Declaration

As I do every year, the full text of the Declaration of Independence. Almost no one has read the whole thing. If you haven’t, give it a read. It’s interesting. Flawed, but interesting.

Enjoy the day!

____________

In Congress, July 4, 1776

The unanimous Declaration of the thirteen united States of America,

When in the Course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.--That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, --That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shewn, that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security.--Such has been the patient sufferance of these Colonies; and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter their former Systems of Government. The history of the present King of Great Britain is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute Tyranny over these States. To prove this, let Facts be submitted to a candid world.

--He has refused his Assent to Laws, the most wholesome and necessary for the public good.

--He has forbidden his Governors to pass Laws of immediate and pressing importance, unless suspended in their operation till his Assent should be obtained; and when so suspended, he has utterly neglected to attend to them.

--He has refused to pass other Laws for the accommodation of large districts of people, unless those people would relinquish the right of Representation in the Legislature, a right inestimable to them and formidable to tyrants only.

--He has called together legislative bodies at places unusual, uncomfortable, and distant from the depository of their public Records, for the sole purpose of fatiguing them into compliance with his measures.

--He has dissolved Representative Houses repeatedly, for opposing with manly firmness his invasions on the rights of the people.

--He has refused for a long time, after such dissolutions, to cause others to be elected; whereby the Legislative powers, incapable of Annihilation, have returned to the People at large for their exercise; the State remaining in the mean time exposed to all the dangers of invasion from without, and convulsions within.

--He has endeavoured to prevent the population of these States; for that purpose obstructing the Laws for Naturalization of Foreigners; refusing to pass others to encourage their migrations hither, and raising the conditions of new Appropriations of Lands.

--He has obstructed the Administration of Justice, by refusing his Assent to Laws for establishing Judiciary powers.

--He has made Judges dependent on his Will alone, for the tenure of their offices, and the amount and payment of their salaries.

--He has erected a multitude of New Offices, and sent hither swarms of Officers to harrass our people, and eat out their substance.

--He has kept among us, in times of peace, Standing Armies without the Consent of our legislatures.

--He has affected to render the Military independent of and superior to the Civil power.

--He has combined with others to subject us to a jurisdiction foreign to our constitution, and unacknowledged by our laws; giving his Assent to their Acts of pretended Legislation:

+For Quartering large bodies of armed troops among us:

+For protecting them, by a mock Trial, from punishment for any Murders which they should commit on the Inhabitants of these States:

+For cutting off our Trade with all parts of the world:

+For imposing Taxes on us without our Consent:

+For depriving us in many cases, of the benefits of Trial by Jury:

+For transporting us beyond Seas to be tried for pretended offences

+For abolishing the free System of English Laws in a neighbouring Province, establishing therein an Arbitrary government, and enlarging its Boundaries so as to render it at once an example and fit instrument for introducing the same absolute rule into these Colonies:

+For taking away our Charters, abolishing our most valuable Laws, and altering fundamentally the Forms of our Governments:

+For suspending our own Legislatures, and declaring themselves invested with power to legislate for us in all cases whatsoever.

--He has abdicated Government here, by declaring us out of his Protection and waging War against us.

--He has plundered our seas, ravaged our Coasts, burnt our towns, and destroyed the lives of our people.

--He is at this time transporting large Armies of foreign Mercenaries to compleat the works of death, desolation and tyranny, already begun with circumstances of Cruelty & perfidy scarcely paralleled in the most barbarous ages, and totally unworthy the Head of a civilized nation.

--He has constrained our fellow Citizens taken Captive on the high Seas to bear Arms against their Country, to become the executioners of their friends and Brethren, or to fall themselves by their Hands.

--He has excited domestic insurrections amongst us, and has endeavoured to bring on the inhabitants of our frontiers, the merciless Indian Savages, whose known rule of warfare, is an undistinguished destruction of all ages, sexes and conditions.

In every stage of these Oppressions We have Petitioned for Redress in the most humble terms: Our repeated Petitions have been answered only by repeated injury. A Prince whose character is thus marked by every act which may define a Tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a free people.

Nor have We been wanting in attentions to our British brethren. We have warned them from time to time of attempts by their legislature to extend an unwarrantable jurisdiction over us. We have reminded them of the circumstances of our emigration and settlement here. We have appealed to their native justice and magnanimity, and we have conjured them by the ties of our common kindred to disavow these usurpations, which, would inevitably interrupt our connections and correspondence. They too have been deaf to the voice of justice and of consanguinity. We must, therefore, acquiesce in the necessity, which denounces our Separation, and hold them, as we hold the rest of mankind, Enemies in War, in Peace Friends.

We, therefore, the Representatives of the united States of America, in General Congress, Assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the Name, and by Authority of the good People of these Colonies, solemnly publish and declare, That these United Colonies are, and of Right ought to be Free and Independent States; that they are Absolved from all Allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and the State of Great Britain, is and ought to be totally dissolved; and that as Free and Independent States, they have full Power to levy War, conclude Peace, contract Alliances, establish Commerce, and to do all other Acts and Things which Independent States may of right do. And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes and our sacred Honor.

[bluegraywilde]

The Irish Famine was absolutely not a genocide please read a book.

You’re talking to a former history major & current librarian…

In 1948 the United Nations Genocide Convention defines genocide as "acts committed with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnic, racial or religious group." Acts that can be considered genocidal include: 1. killing members of the group 2. causing them serious bodily or mental harm 3. imposing living conditions intended to destroy the group 4. preventing births 5. forcibly transferring children out of the group.  Of course the intent part is difficult to establish, there rarely is a smoking gun of mustache-twirling men writing in official documents they want to induce mass-death just because that typically is frowned upon in polite society and these are good Christian, civilized men running the 19th century's divinely-appointed global hegemon.

But let's run through the definition shall we...

The Irish do constitute a unique ethnic and religious minority within the British Empire. By the mid-19th century they are of course a de jure part of the core British metropole (the 1801 act of union abolished the independent Irish parliament and established the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland). But by dint of their ethnic and religious status they did not enjoy legal equality with Protestant British settlers, a population which starting displacing the native population en-masse with the settlement of the so-called Ulster Plantations in the early 17th century. The Irish language, culture, and religion were all actively suppressed.

So the destruction bit... the famine has long-been characterized as man-made because the policies of the British government actively exacerbated and prolonged the crisis. Even contemporary critics famously apportioned the blame accordingly: "The Almighty, indeed, sent the potato blight, but the English created the Famine" (John Mitchel, Irish nationalist, 1861). During the initial phase of the famine in 1845, the British government under Prime Minister Robert Peel did supply some aid that ultimately proved inadequate. In 1846 the newly incoming Whig government of Prime Minister John Russell ceased any aid activities due to a commitment to laissez faire economic policy, assuming the free market would solve the issue, spoiler alert it didn't. They refused to limit the exporting of food, actively supporting the economic interests of the British-aligned landowners. Between 1845-1852 approximately a million people (~11.7% of the pre-famine population) die and another 1-2 million flee. In summary you have a government that doesn't care for the mass death, impoverishment, and displacement of a native population of the wrong ethnic stock and religious allegiance... not great! As I referred to earlier, intent is difficult to establish but given the British government's refusal to follow its own past procedures and contemporary practices, it's at the very least guilty of gross negligence and disregard for human life that specifically targeted an oppressed ethnic minority. I think its fair to characterize that as genocide. Just because the term genocide didn't exist in the 1840s/1850s doesn't mean it's not appropriate or applicable.

#asks #anon #fuck off

[therealvinelle]

How does Norway view it’s royal family I’m from Canada and lets just say that we are not big monarchy fans. But I wonder about other countries because commonwealth countries are kind of in a unique situation where their royalty is actually royalty of another country (Britain) and we just pay for it. (no seriously, we pay more for the monarchy in canada than the uk does)

I can't speak for everyone, but I personally am in favor of having a royal family and would find it disappointing and a change for the worse if we became a republic.

The monarchy in Norway came about the right way, when the country became independent in 1905 the people voted with an overwhelming majority in favor of getting the Danish prince Carl to become our king. It was in order words not something imposed upon us by a thousand years of feudalism, but a newly independent people's choice to have a king of our own.

King Haakon proceeded to, when Norway was occupied by the Germans, refuse to accept our government's formal request to disband (as they had been driven into exile and could no longer govern), as well as refuse to surrender. Did this lead to war, yes, but it also meant that through the war we remained an occupied country with a legitimate government overseas broadcasting to every citizen by radio that we could look towards in place of the occupying government imposed upon us.

After King Haakon there was King Olav, who took the bus during the 1973 energy crisis so as to lead by example, and went skiing in the woods like everybody else, he was an immensely popular king. Now there is King Harald, who married a commoner in Queen Sonja and whose children have made even more scandalous marriages (Princess Märtha married an artist and author, Ari Behn, while the crown prince Haakon married a single mother of a child out of wedlock who was and in certain circles remains viewed as very low class), but both Harald and Sonja are very loved. Harald famously is very witty, and more importantly he is a very inclusive and kind-hearted person who made it explicitly clear he is as much the king of immigrants and LGBT people as he is everybody else. He has also competed in the Olympics seveal times, we love an athlete.

The big eyesore is Princess Märtha, whose sins and scandals are money but in a nutshell, she made the choice to be financially independent (good!) only to then do so in the worst ways she could manage. There was the angel school, where you would go learn how to speak with angels (I once went to a party where we read her book and followed her instructions on finding your aura, great fun and I recommend this for a party game), which had everyone laughing at her, to the much less funny adventure she is now on, where she has... gone full Gwyneth Paltrow. As in, she is engaged to a shaman who says children with cancer must have wished the cancer upon themselves and he will also cleanse women's vaginas of evil if they've had too much sex, and she has toured the country with this man using her princess title (The tour was called "The princess and the shaman") which... yes. When they are criticized, they say it's racism because he is black, this has not endeared them to many either.

She can live her life how she wishes, the fact that what she wishes is to give a platform to a man who talks about being a lizard who contains ancient spirits and also the 5G net is bad is what makes people upset and lose respect for the monarchy as a whole.

Personally, I remain in favor of the monarchy because she'll never be on the throne, she is already irrelevant in every way that matters. The relevant royals we do have do their jobs well and responsibly, which is where my wanting to have a monarchy in the first place comes in: I believe in the constitutional monarchy as we practice it in Norway.

The people who make the decisions will be elected by the people, but the person representing the country, whose job is only to represent and better the country through charities and strengthened diplomatic ties, has an advantage if he isn't political and gains a continuity from not being replaced every time he loses the election cycle. In these times of rising populism I think the advantage to having an apolitical head of state and military is even greater. We could in theory vote a populist party into power but we wouldn't have a populist president, the way certain countries experienced not too long ago and stand to do now. As for how one should go about finding such a non-political, continuous leader of the country, I think inheriting the position is as good a way as any to keep the transferrance of power from one sovereign to the next from getting political. In other words, monarchy but keep it constitutional.

(I'm also colored by how King Haakon handled the occupation, as well as how the King of Spain as recently as in 1981 prevented a military coup in Spain by denouncing the military's actions. How relevant these events are to the present day can be debated, but I think the past couple of years have proven that we should not take the status quo for granted and our democracies can come under threat. When they do, I prefer to have every safeguard imaginable in place for them. If that safeguard spend their time promoting art and charity that's just a big bonus.)

#monarchy #politics #americans incoming in 3... 2...

[versegm]

It isn’t a secret, not really; this isn’t the sort of thing one can conceal forever. But it is an unspoken agreement in the party: we do not speak of Tonelico’s illness.

“There, there.” Mash rubs soothing circles over her back. “Breathe. It’ll be okay.”

Tonelico wheezes, spasms, and another violent cough overtakes her entire body. She hunches over, petals spilling over her lips.

“I’m with you.” There is not much that Mash can do- but at least, she can talk. Let her voice be an anchor through the pain. “I’m with you. It’s okay.”

With a latch spasm, Tonelico retches, and a cascade of flowers tumbles out of her mouth, hanging by vines. She stays like this for a few seconds, catching her breath- then she reaches up and pulls on the bundle of leaves, until the vines snap, retracting back to the back of her throat.

“... Thank you.” She’s smiling, but she’s still very obviously breathless. Her shoulders keep twitching without any of her input. “That would have been unpleasant to deal with alone.”

Mash rubs her back one last time, then lets go. “Don’t mention it.” And, like the rest of the team, she will go back to pretending it’s not here.

*****

They call it hanahaki, the flower-vomitting disease.

“It’s caused by repressed feelings,” Ector explains to her, one day when they are alone, “anger. Sadness. Hope. All these things you keep deep inside. They fester, and plants grow from this fertile soil.”

He does not elaborate. He does not need to.

Tonelico is a good person. She always looks at the bright side of things. She helps people without ever asking for a reward, and smiles regardless of any hardship in her way.

She reminds Mash of Senpai. This is not a good thing.

*****

She holds onto that assumption for the whole nine months she spends in the Fairy Calendar. Tonelico tells her my spear went out of control, and Mash thinks of the petals she finds on Tonelico’s pillow every morning; she tells her I will not save the fairies, and Mash thinks of the leaves she huffs out at times; she tells her there is not a single fairy I wish to save, and Mash thinks of bouquets of carnations pried out of her jaws with bare fingers.

It’s only at the very end of her journey that Mash understands that, like with many things, Tonelico had been playing a role.

It’s a horrible sight; Tonelico breaking down, madness in her eyes. She must be cursing the very skies, but her words are incomprehensible, her voice drowned in the torrent of flowers fleeing her lungs. Some of them are roses. There is blood on the petals.

And yet. Even now.

Mash guesses her true name before she speaks it out loud. By this point, the ice has almost engulfed her whole; she can no longer speak. In her last moments of consciousness, Mash connects everything she knows about Tonelico, and everything she knows about Morgan, painting the only picture that makes sense.

Even now. Even now. Even now. She’s trying to save Britain. Even now. Even now. Even now. She’s trying to save Britain.

It wasn’t anger she was repressing. It wasn’t any kind of rage at all. What she kept so dearly close to her heart, what Tonelico refused to ever speak out loud, was but the simplest and most unrequited-

*****

-love.

Morgan’s body is not in the throne room. Morgan’s body is not anywhere to be found. Mash is familiar with the fairies’ cruelty by now. They must have thrown it into the Great Pit.

The flowers remain, though. Whatever they did to Morgan, it tore these plants right out of her lungs, and scattered them all over the room. 

Mash picks one up- a simple yellow one. That simple act echoes with simple times, afternoons helping Tonelico up after a particularly harsh cough. A flower. A simple flower. Morgan’s flower. Morgan’s love.

Because despite everything. Despite everything. Tonelico, Morgan, she loved Britain. She loved Britain to the point of making herself sick.

And it did not love back.

The flowers. The flowers. The flowers. They’re scattered across the room. No one has given them a second glance. Maybe one day someone will come and use them to make a crown, or decorate their house- unaware that they are the last remnants of a girl who damned herself to the bone for her country. Unaware that they are holding Morgan’s spilled love, misdirected as it may have been.

Mash violently shoves the flower in her own mouth.

It tastes bitter. Of course it does. Tonelico’s love could not be any other way. At best it tastes bad, at worst it might be poisonous. Mash doesn’t care. She swallow it whole, barely chewing, and when it has safely slid its way down her throat she bends down and grabs another.

This is Tonelico’s. This is her love. It grew from her entrails. The thought of anyone getting their hands on these, treating them like they would a piece of furniture- it’s unbearable. They have no idea what any of these mean. They have no idea who Tonelico was, truly was . They have no right over her love. They have no right over her body. If anyone is to desecrate her any further, then- let it be Mash. Let it be someone who cares.

Yes, this is a completely insane thing to say, she is aware. But what can she do? She is alone in her grief. Senpai would understand if she explained, but they weren’t there. There is no one left alive who was. The only thing left in this world who must have loved Tonelico as much as she did is the parasite that grew in her lungs, and so Mash gathers its remnants in her palms and eats and eats and eats.

Her throat hurts. She chokes at times. Tonelico choked too, when she coughed those out. This is the closest the two of them have ever been.  It’s cannibalism. It’s communion. It’s don’t leave me, don’t leave me, don’t leave me.

This petal still has blood on it, the taste of copper filling Mash's mouth. This is from her veins. This is from her guts. Every stem she ingests is a part of Tonelico that can never be taken away from her- not by the Fairies, not by the Queen’s Calendar, not by any cosmos denial. This, she will carry with her until the end of times. Tonelico’s love will not die. Mash will survive and therefore it will not die.

#my writing #fate #lostbelt 6 #mashmorgan

[danpuff-ao3]

Dremus Recs

A collection of Draco/Remus fics I love!

In the Bones

A_factorygirl. Rated: E. Words: 7,833. Rough sex. Werewolves.

Remus can't help what he wants; the pull of the moon makes his entire body ache with desire. He won't give in though. He won’t let himself take Draco to that place.

The Fields of St. Herve

by Arsenic. Rated: E. Words: 32,966. Angst. Romance.

Draco's a bit down on his luck.

The Stare's Nest

by blythely. Rated: E. Words: 1,322. Character death.

"Right there," Draco stutters and he means it, and it makes him furious, so he calls Lupin Professor and doesn't mean that at all.

Argent and Amber

by Cluegirl. Rated: E. Words: 160.

A drabble rarepair, but only one.

Only One Word

by EntreNous. Rated: E. Words: 7,871. Daddy kink. Age difference. Developing relationship. Podfic available.

Remus worries far too much what Draco thinks of the differences between them, until he discovers what Draco truly thinks.

Drunk on the Scent of Your Skin

by gracerene (@gracerene). Rated: E. Words: 3,294. Post-Hogwarts. POV Draco. POV First Person. Infidelity. Scent kink. Werewolf Draco.

It's the smell of him, more than anything else, that drives me wild.

Dislike, That Was All

by iamisaac. Rated: E. Words: 386.

[Triple drabble.]

Pater Familias

by Leela. Rated: E. Words: 14,458. PTSD. Forced bonding. Scars.

Draco Malfoy really was too pretty and too young to be sent to Azkaban. After the inevitable occurred, Remus Lupin and Andromeda Tonks agreed to take responsibility for him, and allowed him to serve the rest of his sentence on house arrest in their home. Lucius Malfoy, however, refused to simply trust them with his son's emotional and physical well-being.

Worthy Prey

by mousapelli. Rated: E. Length: short.

[on LJ; inspiration for The Stare's Nest.]

Brat

orphaned. Rated: E. Words: 2,934. Daddy kink. Roleplay.

He knows, when Draco turns up like this, when he’s all curled up in the bed like an innocent little thing, he expects to get right into it.

Claimed

by torino10154. Rated: E. Words: 300. First time. Rough sex. Handcuffs. Orgasm delay/denial.

[Triple drabble]

The Hollow

by wolfpants (@wolfpants). Rated: E. Words: 12,500. Past Wolfstar. Hints of Drarry. Hurt/comfort. Grief/mourning.

It's been five years since Sirius's death, and Remus hasn't gotten over it. Harry Potter has been missing from Wizarding Britain for almost a year, and his Auror partner Draco hasn't gotten over that either. Night time in the city and a chance encounter for two grieving men to lean on each other.

Ragged Men in Ragged Clothes

by zalil. Rated: E. Words: 1,872.

Draco is living and sleeping with the last person his parents want to see him with and he's doing it on purpose. Just because it angers them, not because Remus and he click somehow. Not because they have great sex and certainly not because he wants Remus to protect and care for him.

#danpuff recs #dremus #draco/remus #hp rare pair

[i-am-church-the-cat]

Hi. I know things can tend to get lost so I wanted to make one big post for any of my followers to see.

If you enjoy any of the stuff I put on here or any of my works on ao3 and want to see more of it in the future, the best way to support me is to follow what is happening in Palestine right now.

For those who don't know, the country of Palestine is the area between the Jordan River and the Mediterranean Sea that was colonized by Great Britain and Zionist armies after World War II (though it started in the 19th century). After Palestine was taken over by Zionists, the country was renamed Israel and Palestinians were pushed out of their homes in a ethnic cleansing called the Nakba. Since then, the areas that were designated for Palestinians (the Gaza Strip and the West Bank) have continued to shrink.

The Gaza Strip, a piece of land that is only 141 square miles, holds 2 millions Palestinian people. It is often called "the world's largest open-air prison" because Palestinians living there are not allowed to leave or move about freely, the water, food, and electricity is all controlled by the Israeli government, and the Israeli Defense Force (IDF) regularly arrests, injures, and murders civilians there.

On October 7th, 2023, a radical group known as Hamas attacked the boundary between Gaza and Israel, killing over 1000 people. In response, Israel has launched a full-scale assault. In the last 13 days, Israel has launched over 600 bombs and killed 4000 people, more than 1000 of them being children. This is all sanctioned by the 3 billion USD the United States pays Israel every year and their refusal to call for humanitarian aid to the people of Gaza.

There is a genocide happening and my government is complicit in it. Chances are your government is, too.

If you want to learn more from people far more educated than I, please go to this website run by Palestinian people. If you wish to help, please go to this public toolkit. And don't stop there: do your own research, look at other people's resources, because I promise there's a whole lot more than can be fit into one post.

Please don't look away from what is happening. If the worst does happen, the least we can do is remember the people who died for something they believed in, the children who never knew anything different, the once thriving culture that was decimated because of racism and Islamophobia.

Thank you for reading and Free Palestine 🇵🇸

#long post #free palestine #palestine #israel #from the river to the sea palestine will be free #information #resources #gaza strip #genocide #war crimes #current events #news

[qqueenofhades]

oh, absolutely! and that’s why i’m honestly so fed up with these online leftists. they act like they were the first people to sound the alarm on bunch of horrible shit and go all defeatist, completely disrespecting the work of activists and organizers who have been trying to fix these issues since before they were even a thought. there’s this widespread idea that the systems won’t ever work in a way that’s fair because they weren’t designed to, and while yes, the systems were designed to be unfair and awful to marginalized groups, gutting them won’t solve the problem if there’s nothing to replace them with. mutual aid is a wonderful thing and i’m happy to see people talking about it but i don’t think a lot of them realize it can’t replace a system. it can help but it can’t be this thing you throw everything into because you’re disillusioned with the systems. the only way to make those systems better is to vote in candidates who will but these people are so sick of being told to vote they just refuse to even entertain why people may be telling them to do that.

See, this is where far-right libertarians and far-left "burn the whole system down!!!" ideologies once more collide. Far-right libertarians don't want to participate in society and don't want to be responsible for the welfare of others and don't want any rules and definitely no regulations and so on and so forth. Far-left "revolutionaries" claim to want the same thing in terms of destroying the existing system, but they do so out of some misguided idea that either some new and completely perfect system will magically spring from the ashes (spoiler alert: no), or that informal neighborhood-level networks of mutual aid (however they define that, when they're often willing to totally exclude people who disagree with them about the smallest things, so why would they help people they disagree with on everything else?) can replace, as you say, the entire system.

The thing is, if you're reduced to informally scraping along with your local neighbors and have absolutely no other recourse or formal system of governance and/or distribution, you're living in a failed state, and nobody who has ACTUALLY been through that experience thinks, as the Online Leftists do, that it would be a great idea. This is another thing about their total failure to learn from history, or listen to anyone who isn't American, despite the tankies' insistence that America causes all evil in the world forever. My friends who grew up in the former USSR sure don't think their system was great, even if it was called "socialism" or "communism" or whatever terms the left wants to use with no appreciation of their difficulties. And so on.

Basically, it reminds me of when the Brexit loons were insisting that it made no difference to food supply if Britain left the EU, because, and I quote, "Britain is a nation of farmers, we can grow food in our back gardens!" As if the entire point of human civilization has been to bring us back to personal subsistence farming, which has generally been acknowledged throughout history to totally suck and also be the least reliable way of providing for yourself, and also... the idea that personally growing food in your nice back garden in Kent can replace the entire structure and system of the EU single market and customs union is completely absurd. To say the fucking least, and to anyone whose brain isn't poisoned with Brexit Brexit Brexit! And yes, hey presto, Britain is now experiencing food difficulties and frantically blaming it on anything except Brexit. Meanwhile, Sunak finally negotiated a new Northern Ireland protocol with the EU, but it's anyone's guess if it'll pass the Commons, since the Tory backbenchers just reflexively nuke anything that suggests any cooperation with the EU or any acceptance of EU law. Because they want to pretend the EU never existed! (Even though it was Margaret Thatcher's idea/initiative, shh.) Yeah. That'll work.

So yeah. If you live in your own world where facts don't exist, or exist only to support your preferred ideology, and your insistence that destroying the system with nothing to replace it is the best idea... it is, uh, dumb. Which is the nicest way I can possibly put it. It's never worked out before, it won't work out now, and honestly, "I'm tired of being told to vote after I didn't vote and then things went wrong!" is an argument I have NO sympathy for whatsoever. I know things are bad. You know things are bad. If there's a simple, easy way to start fixing it -- and systems CAN be fixed, even if it takes time and is not the instant dopamine gratification of moral posturing on social media -- where you have to participate once every two years, and you don't do it, then yeah. I don't think that person is serious about fixing anything, and I have no obligation or desire to listen to them at all.

#anonymous #ask #politics for ts #uk politics

[chaosinkest1996]

In The Graveyard with Lilith Rose Shelby (and Jack Nelson)

This work is inspired by @zablife and her 2K celebration: An Evening at The Arrow House. The OC of Lilith Rose Shelby is my own. The characters of Scarlet Shelby, Aurora Sabini, Heaven Shelby and Eva Smith belong to @zablife, @evita-shelby and @call-sign-shark. I only mentioned them because they inspired me. Eva is only mentioned by name but I did my best to do Scarlet and Heaven justice. Thank you for inspiring me.

TW: Violence, Sexual Content, Swearing.

Lilith Rose Shelby was all grown up. She’d flown the coop and (unlike most members of the Shelby clan) had miraculously escaped the clutches of Tommy’s schemes. Some suspected that her untapped freedom had to do with her immense luck in life… but for those who knew better….it was because Thomas Shelby loved no one more than his youngest sister. No one held such an influence over the greatest gangster turned MP in all of Great Britain (and its dominions) than Lilith, no one else had the keys to his smile or to his heart. You might ask Why, then, she was allowed to roam free? Not shackled to the Arrow House as Ada had once been to the shithole in small heath. Not obligated to attend every family dinner or family meeting that Tommy threw whenever he felt like it.

       “Why?” The new Mrs Shelby kissed up Tommy’s back as he sat on the edge of the bed. “Will she not meet me?” Of all the people she desired to make a friend of in this family, Mrs Shelby wanted to make the best first impression on her mysterious good sister. Everyone spoke of her with reverence. Lilith’s name was the very essence of sorcery. Once spoken, even whispered in corridors and in dark corners, a shiver danced up one’s spine…or one’s blood spiked with adrenalin and excitement.  

Thomas bristled and stiffened, not responding. Mrs Shelby paused, a pout forming on her nervous lips. In truth, she had expected for Thomas to be eager for his new wife to meet Lilith. The siblings were so close, that she’d expected for her to have been the first person he’d have introduced her to. Instead she was met with a cagey Thomas.

       “Lilith doesn’t like Arrow House.” He deflected easily, lighting a cigarette as he stood up and wandered to the window, looking out into the foggy grey autumnal morning. He exhaled some smoke in the way that had her swooning, before he spoke again. “It reminds her of Grace.” Mrs Shelby’s heart dropped. Grace, the woman whose shadow she was forever enshrouded by. She didn’t openly wish to express her dislike of Grace or Lizzie, but she was beginning to despise them. She knew their spirits were mourned and honoured in this house…. if only by the staff and the children. It was complicated. But she hated being compared to them, hated the way the children refused to acknowledge her but would gaze in awe at the portraits of their respective mothers. It made her feel like a replacement…. nothing more. Perhaps Lilith would think the same of her. She chewed on her lip.

        “She must have loved Grace a lot.” She mused. Tommy scoffed.

        “On the contrary, Lilith hated Grace.” He licked his lips, glancing at his wife. He’d put it politely for her, spared some of the details. No one hated Grace more than Tommy’s beloved little demoness. “She disliked Lizzie as well, but for different reasons.”

        “Oh.”

        “Grace betrayed me. Lilith refused to forgive that. The only reason she refrained from dancing with joy when she died was that she loved me too much.”

        “And Lizzie?”

        “Lizzie broke John’s heart.”  Tommy spoke casually, remorselessly as though he’d had nothing to do with it.

        “I’ve not done anything to hurt anyone.” Mrs Shelby sulked, looking at the floor. Tommy strolled back over to the bed and took her into his arms.

        “Quite right.” He kissed her forehead. “Perhaps it’s not such a bad idea to invite her this weekend.”

        “But she hates the Arrow House.”

        “She’ll come for the family, and for me. The kids will be delighted to see her”

        “She’s good with them?” Her interest was piqued. Perhaps Lilith could shed light on the way to Charlie and Ruby’s hearts.

        “She dotes on them.” He smiled, a real genuine smile. “They’re mine, after all.”

*****

Mrs Shelby skipped towards Tommy, her letter filled left hand raised in triumph. Her sparkling sapphire engagement ring sparkled in the light.

     “They’re coming.” She kissed him joyously. “They’re all coming.”

     “All?” He chuckled.

     “All.” She confirmed. “And they’re all staying. Scarlet and Luca will stay in the room opposite Finn and Aurora. Alfie and Ada will stay in the room opposite Polly and Aberamma.” Tommy smiled as she babbled out her arrangements. He imagined it was a good idea that Alfie and Arthur should stay in separate wings of the house…. otherwise Ada and Heaven would be forced to intervene, and no one wanted a mess. Gina and Michael would go next to Ada and Alfie. John and Tatiana would have to be kept in the room next to Tommy and Mrs Shelby so he could keep an eye on that mad bitch. Speaking of that insane Russian duchess…. she’d have to be kept as far away from Lilith and her beloved husband, Jack Nelson. Last Christmas had been a disaster when Tatiana – having had way too much to drink – announced that herself and Lilith had been lovers for the entire year before Lilith had met Jack. Jack had hated her guts since. The children would have three whole rooms to themselves. Something Mrs Shelby wasn’t sure was appropriate, but something Tommy had insisted was necessary.

     “They all love being together.” He insisted. “And it’s not like we’re giving them the entire house.”

     “I’m still so shocked they’re all coming.” She smiled dreamily up at him. “I’ve always wanted a big family.”

     “Well, now you have one.”

     “You never told me Lilith was married.”

     “Ah.” Tommy looked sheepish. “I didn’t think she’d bring him.”

Two years ago she’d eloped with Jack Nelson, the last man on earth Tommy had thought suitable or good enough for Lilith. Jack Nelson was everything Tommy (ironically) hated. He was unfaithful, violent, a fascistic Irish American and he was the most obnoxious, ambitious, cunning bastard he’d ever encountered…It was like looking in an ever so slightly warped mirror. His dislike of the American hadn’t stopped Lilith marrying him though…And yet somehow, the marriage worked. Jack followed the little Shelby witch round like a lost puppy, salivating whenever she looked at him. It was like she held some sort of magical enchantment over him. The loved up pair made Thomas feel a little bit sick. Mrs Shelby smiled teasingly.

      “You can’t stand him, can you?”

      “He’s not good enough for her.” He grouched. “But for some unfathomable reason, he makes her happy. That’s enough for me.” From the way he gritted his teeth it seemed like that hardest thing he’d ever had to say.

      “Everyone thinks you’re a big bad gangster…but I know you’re really just a big softy.”

      “Don’t go telling everyone, ey.” He laughed, “I have a reputation to uphold.” Wrapping his arms around her waist he hoisted her up onto the table, taking her lips with his own. Someone coughed. Tommy turned to see Mary, the maid.

       “The house is all prepared for the guests, Mr Shelby.”

        “Thank you, Mary. That will be all.” She nodded, turning to leave but not before she eyed Mrs Shelby with frigid, calculating eyes. Thomas didn’t seem to notice though as he shifted his attention back to Mrs Shelby as his fingers slid beneath the hem of her dress.

*****

They were nothing like she expected. None of them. Polly arrived first, gliding in like the image of sophistication, barely glancing at Mrs Shelby. Aberamma following closely at her heels. He grunted in greeting, simply tilting his head after removing his hat. Arthur and Heaven arrived at the same time as Scarlet and Luca. Arthur’s greeting had been sweet. He seemed to like her, spluttering over his words to greet her. His hands shook and his eyes looked a little wild. But he meant well. Heaven waltzed in behind him, looking like an angel in her white fur coat. The snow haired beauty’s presence seemed to ease Arthur’s nervousness. He wrapped his arm around her waist as she held out her hand for Mrs Shelby to shake.

     “You must be Heaven.” Mrs Shelby stuttered, transfixed by her crystalline eyes.

     “Pleasure.” Heaven’s eyes slid to Tommy and her expression instantly shifted to a predatory one. “Bastard.” She acknowledged with a cat like smile.

      “Yes. He is.” Scarlet stated as she sauntered through, pushing her way past them and following Polly into the drawing room.

      “You’re not going to say hello, Tesoro?” Luca paused in the hallway, smiling at Mary as she took his hat and coat.

       “There’s no point in greeting Tommy’s latest victim. Knowing him, she won’t last the year.” Scarlet called back. Tommy watched Mrs Shelby’s confidence dissipate momentarily. Headlights glowed in the driveway.

       “Heaven, why don’t you take Arthur and Luca into the drawing room.” Tommy suggested. Heaven’s icy eyes hardened before narrowing at him. Her lips parted in order to respond in a somewhat poisonous manner but Mrs Shelby stepped forward and whispered to her.

       “I wouldn’t normally agree with Tommy but Alfie’s just arrived.” Heaven observed the mouse like woman Tommy had married for a moment before she nodded, escorting her husband and brother in law to the drawing room. Music blared as the door opened and Mrs Shelby could see the reflection of Scarlet in the large mirror as she turned the gramophone up.

       “SHALOM Thomas!” Roared the bear of a man as he wandered in. Ada rolled her eyes beside him. She hugged Thomas tightly before embracing Mrs Shelby, much to her surprise.

       “I hope they’ve not been too scathing to you.” She whispered. “Don’t worry, they’ll warm to you with time.” She pulled back and smiled. “This is my son, Karl, my daughter, Elizabeth and this,” She brushed her hand over her swollen midsection as Alfie beamed with joy. “Is baby Solomons.” Tommy paled as she spoke, only just noticing the pregnancy.

        “Jesus Christ.” He muttered beneath his breath.  Mrs Shelby held his hand and gave it a squeeze as she spoke.

        “You’d better head on in before he has a stroke.”

Tommy had just about recovered when the door to the drawing room opened and he heard Arthur exclaim.

         “Fookin’ hell Ada! You bloody kept that quiet, din’t ya?!”

Finn and Aurora Sabini arrived next. Polite and jovial as ever, though Aurora didn’t appear to like the way the youngest Shelby boy looked at his new sister in law. John, Tatiana, Michael and Gina all arrived together. Lawrence ran in from the cold, zooming in circles around Tommy and Mrs Shelby before running past them to the drawing room, banging on the door and yelling “Granma, Granma!”

       “My boy!” Polly called in joy as she came out and greeted him, swooping down and collecting him in her arms before slipping back inside. Gina made a noise of disgust.

       “Thomas.” She acknowledged.

       “Regina.” She scowled as he full named her.

       “So this is you’re newest whore?” She studied Mrs Shelby with critical eyes. “She doesn’t look like much, I’m surprised you’re so taken with her.”

        “She’s worth ten of you, Regina.” He snapped.

       “Michael.” Mrs Shelby smiled warmly. “Thank you for coming.”

        “It’s nice to see you again, love. I hope he’s treating you right.”

        “He is. Very Much.”

        “I took the liberty of bringing a wedding gift. It’s out the front.”

        “That’s very generous of you. Really, you didn’t have to.”

        “Yes, Michael. You didn’t have to.” Gina snapped before stalking off to the drawing room and loudly demanding a drink. Michael winked at Mrs Shelby, smirked at Tommy and left them to it. He turned to greet John and Tatiana and froze.

      “Fuck!” He fumed. “What the fuck are you wearing?!” He looked at John. “What the fuck is she wearing John-boy!”

      “Don’t worry, Thomas.” Tatiana purred sensually. “It’s not for you…or your wife.” She stepped around him, the thin scrap of material she called a dress clinging to her figure. “Tatiana Petrovna Shelby, delighted to make your acquaintance.” Mrs Shelby blushed and stepped closer to Tommy as the Russian duchess invaded her space. Grabbing her jaw, Tatiana kissed both of Mrs Shelby’s cheeks.”

       “She’d got a beautiful neck, Thomas. I can see why you like her.” She paused. “And that ring!” She snatched Mrs Shelby’s hand, admiring the sapphire encrusted in diamonds. She tutted. “I would have thought you’d learned your lesson with sapphires.”

       “They’re a particular favourite of my wife’s.”

       “Grace liked sapphires too.” Tatiana smirked, her dark eyes flickering madly in the candle-light. “Is Lilith here yet?” She changed the subject.

       “Is she the reason you’re dressed like a whore?” Tommy took a swig of the amber liquid in his tumbler. “You not bothered by this John?”

       “As long as I’m the only man she fucks, doesn’t matter to me.” He joked.

       “It’ll only ever be you Johnny.” Tatiana turned and kissed him.

       “Aye, John-boy. As long as you’re a Shelby, she’s not picky.”

       “What’s that supposed to mean?” Mrs Shelby asked, nervously glancing at Tommy.

       “It means that before she chose me, she was fucking Tommy…until she got bored of him.” John answered. 

         “Are we interupptin’ somethin’?” Came Uncle Charlie’s deep gravelly voice. He stopped short to shake Tommy’s hand, flanked by Johnny Doggs, Isiah and Curly. Curly smiled bashfully at Mrs Shelby and handed her some flowers. She blushed.

         “Thank you Curly.”

         “How’re you findin’ us so far, petal?” Johnny Doggs asked loudly.

         “So far I’m struggling to find someone who likes both of us. Polly, Aurora and Gina dislike me, everyone else has a gripe with Tommy.” Johnny Doggs barked out a laugh. “Welcome to the clan!”

          “Families.” Isiah scoffed. “Who’d have em?”

*****

Lilith Rose Shelby was the most beautiful creature Mrs Shelby had ever seen. So beautiful, that the air rocketed out of her lungs when she first saw her. They heard Jack first as he escorted her up the steps and held the door open for her. She looked like a goddess, draped in silk. Tommy was fascinated that Jack never once looked away from her. His only greeting to the new Mrs Shelby was a nod and a smirk. He sneered at Tommy before his attention gravitated back to his wife. She had the most beguiling dark eyes Mrs Shelby had ever seen. They were like pools of endless night. Lilith catapulted herself into Tommy, who embraced her tightly and inhaled her scent. Pomegranate and dark amber. She relaxed into him. Releasing her, Tommy cupped his baby sister’s face in his hands and looked at her for a moment.

     “You grow more and more beautiful every time I see you.” He smiled.

     “Brother.” She spoke quietly….and she sounded like magic. Soft and sensual. “You look well.” She beamed at him. And Mrs Shelby’s heart fluttered at her smile. Jack snaked a hand around Lilith’s waist and pulled her back against him.

      “Shelby.” Jack acknowledged. “Married again? You can’t seem to get em’ to stay, can ya?”

      “Nelson.” Tommy spoke evenly. “I can keep women just fine. In fact, I’ve never had to cross a continent and steal a woman away to make her mine. I suppose that means I have better luck than you.” Lilith covered Jack’s hand with her own.

     “Or,” She interrupted loudly, “It simply means that I was special enough that he had to travel all this way to find me.” Mrs Shelby watched, fascinated as both men melted at Lilith words. Jack kissed Lilith’s forehead and Tommy smiled.

    “Could be.” He agreed. Lilith stepped away from Jack and turned her attention to Mrs Shelby. All the noise fell away. She couldn’t hear anything. Apart from the sound of her blood pulsing through her at a rapid speed. She glanced at her husband, and watched his beautiful lips move as he spoke to Lilith and Jack. She watched Lilith study her, eyes raking over her in an unreadable manner. Mrs Shelby’s finger twitched as Lilith’s eyes pause over her engagement ring, her full soft lips quirking into a small smile for a moment before it vanishes. Mrs Shelby gasped, startled when Lilith unexpectedly stepped forward and smiled at her. Lilith took Mrs Shelby’s left hand in both of hers. Her thumb brushed over the sapphire. Her eyes pierced into Mrs Shelby’s hypnotically and Mrs Shelby found herself transfixed as Thomas brushed a hand up and down her back, comfortingly…. obliviously.

      “Sister.” Lilith tested the word on her tongue as she surveyed Mrs Shelby. “You’ll be good to him, yes?” She sounded so innocent. So angelic. Her eyes held no malice. Mrs Shelby stuttered.

      “Y-Yes. I shall try to be all that he deserves.”

Lilith beamed at her and released her hand. Mrs Shelby’s ring finger throbbed momentarily as she watched her fascinating sister turn and enter the drawing room with Jack. She saw through the reflection in the mirror as Polly embraced her niece tightly and was startled to see Lilith’s reflection gazing predatorily through the looking glass at her.

*****

Dinner was a fucking disaster. It had been nothing like she had hoped. Perhaps she was just projecting her own fears but it seemed that none of them liked her…. even the ones who appeared to. It seemed as though they were watching her every move with a pre-existing negative judgement. She was guilty to them, of something. The problem was she didn’t know what and she didn’t know how to change that. Tommy had enough to deal with, especially after Tatiana had goaded Jack into a row and she was swearing at him in Russian. Arthur had had way too much to drink. Scarlet was screaming at Tommy for something he’d done years ago and Luca was trying desperately to calm her down. She turned to look at Michael, who was in a heated discussion with Gina…and Aurora kept throwing her dirty looks.  In the end she’d left the table, claiming to check on dessert. She’d just found a quiet alcove to take a few moments when someone touched her shoulder. She jolted and turned to see Lilith.

    “Feeling overwhelmed?” Her voice was so soft, sympathy swirled in her onyx eyes.

    “A little.”

A lot. I’ve bitten off more than I can chew.

    “I know. We can be a lot to handle.” She looked out into the darkened garden. “Why don’t we go for a walk.” She suggested. “Take a moment to ourselves.” Mrs Shelby’s heart soared at the prospect of having a moment alone with someone who might actually like her and in doing so, might sway the opinion of the others. She nodded and took Lilith’s offered arm as the two of them stepped out into the cool autumn air.

It hadn’t been long since they had returned from their honeymoon and so Mrs Shelby hadn’t yet had time to explore the grounds of the Arrow House properly. In the dark murkiness of the evening she couldn’t really see where she was going and clutched on to Lilith’s bare arm a little closer for security. She smelt dizzyingly alluring. Away from all the smoke and whiskey the magic of her perfumed the air in a wonderful way. 

    “How did you meet my brother, if you don’t mind me asking?”

    “Da’s one of his employees at Shelby Company ltd. I met Tommy when I brought Da his lunch.”

    “How…. quaint.”

Mrs Shelby wasn’t paying attention. She was too bust staring at the purple love bites littering Lilith’s creamy throat. Lilith flushed and giggled when she noticed.

    “I’m sorry, I should have covered up more, Jack can get carried away some times.”

    “He’s very fond of you.”

    “And I, him.” Lilith patted Mrs Shelby’s hand. “I never expected to find Jack. But he’s my better half. As Heaven is Arthur’s and Luca is Scarlet’s. We were worried Thomas would never find someone….worthy.” Lilith stopped her movements and released Mrs Shelby’s arm. For the first time, Mrs Shelby noticed her surroundings. Lilith had brought her to the churchyard close to the Arrow House. She turned, only just able to see the outline of it looming in the moonlight. She shivered, looking back to Lilith who was now staring at something in front of her. “Thomas has very specific needs.” Her voice had lost all of its warmth. Mrs Shelby’s mouth ran dry as she read the names on the gravestones in front of her.

Grace Burgess Shelby.

Daughter, Mother, Beloved Wife.

Elizabeth Stark Shelby

Mother, wife, friend. Lost to childbirth.

Something rustled behind them. Lilith turned and smiled adoringly as Jack stepped out of the shadows. Mrs Shelby wondered how he had known where to find them. “You have to be a certain kind of person to survive in this family. Don’t you, my love?”

    “Ya got that right. It’s an honour to love a Shelby…to be prepared to kill and die for them.”

“Thomas needs a fighter.” Lilith reached out and caressed Mrs Shelby’s cheek. “You didn’t fight tonight. You fled, little mouse.” Lilith tutted and stepped closer, so close, Mrs Shelby could feel Lilith’s sweet, warm breath burning against her flesh. “How can I trust that you’ll fulfil him?” Lilith shook her head, looking sad, disappointed even. Jack brushed his wife’s hair off her shoulder, exposing her flesh. He pressed a kiss into the crook of her neck. Mrs Shelby watched Lilith relax a little. “You’re not good enough for him.” Lilith purred softly, Jack’s lips and tongue trailed down Lilith’s neck as she spoke. “Neither of them were, either.” She glanced to the gravestones behind her. “I was lucky with Lizzie; God took care of her. But I had to intervene with Grace.”

  “B-but we’re happy.” Mrs Shelby spluttered, fear creeping into her voice every second longer that she spent in Lilith’s presence.

   “For now. Until he realises that you’re not enough for him.” She paused, relishing in the look of despair on Mrs Shelby’s features. “Don’t worry. He’ll be happier than ever with Eva. They’ll be perfect together.” Jack hummed in agreement with his beloved and imprinted his teeth in a perfect love bite into her neck as she slid home a beautiful carved and somewhat bejewelled blade into Mrs Shelby’s sternum. Mrs Shelby gasped in pain, a sharp sound leaving her soft lips. “She’s earned him, you haven’t.” Lilith continued as she twisted the hilt, a horrible tearing noise was heard before Lilith let go. Mrs Shelby staggered back and fell back against the willow tree overhanging the makeshift graveyard.  Lilith looked down at her blood spattered fingers. Lifting them to her face she licked one, smearing her lips in the substance. Greedily, Jack took her fingers and painted his own mouth with them. Lilith spun in Jack’s arms, giggling and moaning as their lips fused, unbuckling his belt. She murmured something to him and he acquiesced without question, sitting and leaning back against Grace’s headstone. Lilith slipped her dress over her head until she was wearing barely anything in the coldness of the autumn night. She straddled Jack, kissing him deeply before sliding down onto him in the ghostly glow of the full moon.

Mrs Shelby heaved, opening her mouth. She tried to call for help but no sound emerged. Instead she found herself mute, only coughing and spluttering on the crimson blood as it tried to liberate itself from her mouth. Her vision grew blurry for a moment as tears gathered and obscured her sight.

And then she saw them.

The ghosts of Grace Burgess and Lizzie Stark, both completely drenched in blood and staring in horror, not at her but at Lilith and Jack, as he flipped his wife over and took her like an animal. Lizzie’s expression was melancholic. Her hair loose and wild, eyes ceaselessly spilling tears and her mouth agape in silent cries of agony. Her body had been slit open from chest to lower abdomen and still, even in death, she was bleeding. Grace stood beside her still in the gown she wore the night she was murdered. the bullet wound on her chest still wept even though she didn’t. Her face was curiously, disturbingly calm. The sapphire around her neck pulsed and throbbed and pulsed and throbbed. And suddenly Grace wasn’t looking at Lilith and Jack anymore, her pale grey eyes locking onto her second replacement. Mrs Shelby found herself growing shivery and yet unable to move, unable to scramble backwards as the sapphire whispered to her over and over some kind of spell in Romani. The curse…. she recalled hazily as she forced her limbs in an attempt to move. Tommy believed it had been cursed by the Russians. Mrs Shelby’s fingers dug into the soil as she pushed herself up into a sitting position. Every movement was excruciating in both pain and in effort. Her eyes fluttered closed in exhaustion and the spell of the sapphire seemed to sing louder and louder, it’s feminine voice echoing seductively in her ears. She realised it was coming not only from the necklace Grace’s ghost wore, but also from the ring on her engagement finger. Struggling, she tried desperately to remove it. But to no avail, it was as though it had fused to her flesh, strangling her finger.

Mrs Shelby’s eyes snapped open. Just in time to see the ghost of Grace stood over her.

“I should feel sorry for you.” Grace whispered. “You’re a victim of this family, just like me.” She paused, licking her discoloured corpse lips. Grace heard it too. She heard that it was Lilith’s voice cursing her inside the blue sapphires, not Tatiana’s. “And Tommy does love you.” There was a moment of silence. “But… I’ve come to realise something.” Grace leaned down and kissed Mrs Shelby’s lips, her ghostly fingers coming up to wrap around Mrs Shelby’s throat. “If I can’t have Tommy…” Grace murmured as she pulled back looking deeply into Mrs Shelby’s eyes.

Her grip tightened...and tightened…and tightened. Mrs Shelby choked and spluttered, her body convulsing. The last thing she saw was Lilith’s dark eyes staring at her over Jack’s shoulder, her nails digging into his back as he held her to him. And Grace’s hoarse voice looming over her.

“Then no one can.”  

#An evening at the arrow house #Jack Nelson x OC #Jack Nelson x Lilith Rose Shelby #peaky blinders fanfic #Tommy Shelby #Polly Gray #Michael Gray #Gina Gray #John Shelby #Ada Thorne #Alfie Solomons #heaven shelby #arthur shelby #Scarlet Shelby #Luca Changretta #Eva Smith #Grace Shelby

[freddieraimbow74]

Happy 50th Anniversary to Queen ll !!

This fabulous album was released in the UK by EMI on the 8th of March 1974 and was tentatively titled “Over The Top’. This didn’t appease their label so Queen ll would be the perfect title. This album would be described as “Queens heaviest.”

The album combines a heavy rock sound with art rock and progressive rock elements,and has been called "a pillar of grandiose, assaultive hard rock" by the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

This is certainly the first time one hears their trademark multi-layered overdubs, those rich harmonies and the sheer joie de vivre of a group of young men refusing to be hindered by boundaries and conformity. So while other rock stars went on their holidays Queen worked like Trojan to complete in a month.

Both Brian May and Freddie Mercury had radically different lyrical agendas as far as songwriting content. While Brian preferred a personal or emotional slant, Freddie liked to operate in realms of the phantasmagorical – it was decided to give the record a loose concept, splitting the material into ‘White’ and ‘Black’ sides to match the light and shade of the songs. The White side has songs with a more emotional theme and written mostly by Brian and the black side is almost entirely about fantasy, often with quite dark themes and the songs were completely composed by Freddie himself.

Famed photographer Mick Rock was hired to shoot the album cover. He had the band posed to look suitably moody and vampish a la Marlene Dietrich in Shanghai Express. Freddie, of course, couldn’t resist the faintest of smirks as he looked up at Rock with arms crossed.

Mick said the band wanted to "graft some of [the trademark] decadent 'glam' sensibility" of his previous work with other artists. He also said, “Queen were looking to grab people's attention with the cover, especially since their first album had failed to do so. They realised that if you could catch people's eyes you could get them interested in the music."

Queen’s groundbreaking single released in advance was Freddie Mercury’s penned, “Seven Seas of Rhye,” based on a fantasy world called Rhye that he had created with his sister, Kashmira.

This song was their first entry into the UK singles chart thanks to Queen’s television debut on Britain’s popular show, “Top of The Pops.” The band was a last minute replacement for David Bowie and their performance was impressive enough to rush this fantasy single to an early release.

Brian May told Q magazine, March 2008, “Our first breakthrough, made with the idea that if radio was going to play it, everything had to explode. And it did work."

Brian also said, “To me, Queen II was the sort of emotional music we’d always wanted to be able to play, although we couldn’t play most of it onstage because it was too complicated. We were trying to push studio techniques to a new limit for rock groups — it was fulfilling all our dreams because we didn’t have much opportunity for that on the first album. It went through our minds to call the album Over The Top. Our record label frowned with that title.”

“We took so much trouble over that album, possibly too much, but when we finished we felt really proud, Immediately, it got really bad reviews so I took it home to listen to again and thought 'Christ, are they right?' But after hearing it a few weeks later, I still like it. I think it's great. We'll stick by it."

(Roger Taylor)

“Our latest album ‘Queen ll’ like the other album, is good because of the time we spent on the production. We did all the guitar overdubs, the acoustics, bells, lots of piano; in other words, everything! We go to all the mixes, we don’t just leave it to the producer. Even after the mixing we spent two weeks at Trident whilst the album was being cut.’ ~ John Deacon

“There was no deep meaning or concept in the album. At the time of recording we conceived it impulsively. I wrote a song, ‘The March Of The Black Queen’, for the album and that’s when we got the idea of having white and black sides - reflecting white and black moods. It became a good contrast. The Non Synths’ thing; we put that on as a joke at first because we were frustrated, but it turned out to be quite a good idea because we even managed to fool John Peel at the time. He said something in a review once about there being good use of Moog synthesizer, and actually it was just multi-tracked guitar. People actually thought that we hated synthesizers. Brian was recreating some amazing sounds through his guitar, but people thought ‘My God, guitars don’t sound like that; it’s got to be a synthesizer.’” ~ Freddie Mercury

The album enjoyed chart success in the UK, peaking at #5. In interviews the group promoted the album with a theme of "good versus evil," and made numerous public appearances to gain exposure. It remains a fan favourite to date and shows Queen at their finest, producing music that was deliberately not tailored for the hit parade!

Queen had finally arrived in style and Freddie could give up his weekend job at his clothing stall and concentrate upon the great times that lay ahead. Goodbye Kensington Market, hello world!

#freddie mercury #j’adore #musique #queen #brian may #roger taylor #jhon deacon