#Roman will resist at any and all costs

[loganslowdown4]

Roman: Ugh! I hate when life is hard!

Logan: Life is full of ‘ups and downs’ so to speak, from start to finish.

Logan: We would be happier if we just accepted that.

Roman: *gasp* How dare you try to teach me a lesson!

[kneelingshadowsalome]

FATUM NOS IUNGEBIT 2/4

König x F!Reader

Summary: You have seen him in your dreams. The seer has divined his coming. But nothing has prepared you for witnessing him in the flesh. (Historical AU where König fights for the Roman Empire in an auxiliary unit, finds a cute barbarian woman and decides to keep her as his own.) Part 1 here. Word count: 5.1 k Tags/warnings: 18+ ONLY. Spoils of war/enemies to lovers trope, graphic depictions of violence, historical gruesomeness, pining, odd banter, mixed feelings, romantic fluff, dubcon cuddling, eventual smut. Captor/captive dynamic. König is a brutal warrior... and a gentle giant. A/N: Part two! I don't usually rec music for my fics but if this fic was a song, it would be Dead can Dance’s In Power we Entrust the Love Advocated.

You wake up with a giant plastered on your back.

His bed is far more comfortable than your own, soft and cushy, and there must be flowers somewhere in the hay because there is a surprisingly pleasant odour lingering in the air as you come to. The mattress overall doesn’t reek of too much sweat: some poor slave must change the fillings often enough for König’s stench not to settle on the bed. Actually, you’ve slept quite nicely, despite being embraced by an ogre the whole night.

König has slept like a stone, too, but stirs when you start to shift. You turn on your back and find his drowsy stare on you: it’s generous and warm as he pulls you closer to him. You could roll your eyes when you notice he’s hard down there again – he’s probably hard all the time, whether in bed with a woman or raging on the battlefield, sticking his swords into some poor man’s gut.

“Gut geschlafen?” He asks, and you reckon he’s trying to ask if you’ve slept well – in his domain, in his embrace, after he just slaughtered half of your village.

You give him another pout, which is starting to become your signature expression now. He replies to your grumpiness with a smile, his own trademark move, the one that threatens to strip you from all your arms. He squeezes you fondly against his chest, and then his hand starts to wander: he plays with your tits again, then slinks further down to brush your navel. When he crosses the border and heads straight toward your womanhood, you seize his arm.

He whines softly at your refusal, but to your surprise, he actually stops. You let him go as he moves back up and stay immobile under his touch, amidst the flowery scent and the faint stench of dirt and man sweat, sighing as he cups your breast again. He doesn’t seem to get enough of them, and they’re beginning to feel sore: he gave them so much attention last night already and is now at them again.

You pull his hand away, but this time, he doesn’t respect your wishes but resists you. Trying to hinder a man who’s as strong as a bull is futile, but you have an attempt at it anyway. It turns into a play fight: you wrench his hand down, he drags it back up. Up and down and up and down, as if your breast is a hill he needs to conquer at all costs. But he’s the only one who finds any amusement in your silly game: eyes narrowing again with a smile, a few soft chuckles under that hood telling you he enjoys it when you fight him a little.

It all ends when you finally slap him.

It’s neither a good nor a hard slap, and his mask muffles whatever sound was supposed to give you at least some measure of satisfaction. 

But he stops... And laughs.

“Ja, ich weiß. Ich habe deine Leute getötet. Ich verdiene eine Ohrfeige.”

His language is harsh and throaty, abrupt, and you tell him that, safe with the knowledge that he can’t understand a word you say either.

“You talk ugly,” you complain and watch him up and down, searching for a clue that would tell you that he somehow understands your insult. König simply thunders with another mirthful laugh at your morning crank.

“Es ist schön, mit dir zu reden. Aber jetzt muss ich weg.”

He looks down at you like he’s the Sun God now, thoroughly life-giving and kind. Then he dares to bend forward and press a kiss on your forehead.

“Go away,” you try to push him back with your hands - the hood prevents you from feeling his skin and breath and lips, but the… intimacy is still too much.

“Brute,” you want to spit the word out but end up sounding like a child attempting to quarrel instead. And he’s laughing at you again, both with his eyes and his mouth, covered by that darned hood. You don’t know why on earth you would think that such a charming laugh must come from an equally charming mouth.

He finally retreats and rises from the bed, stretching out his arms. The broad muscles on his back are exposed to the frigid air and his cock is jutting out, long and veined, completely unaffected by the cold. This beast is ripe and ready for another day, and you swallow when you see him in his full glory again, tall and wide and strong, looking like he’s about to eat an entire boar and fuck ten women in the process.

“Schön,” he comments as he turns to look down at you, lying naked and sweet there in his bed. He looks at you like you are the most lovely, adorable, difficult little thing. He even gives his horse cock a few good strokes while taking your sleepy little pouts in.

“Ugly,” you slur back, and he winks at you. 

Gods… You’re too hot and riled to even speak.

You choose to vehemently stay in bed as König starts his day: eats some fruit from the table - still naked - pours himself some wine and washes his mouth with it, tears a handful of bread from a loaf and starts to eat with his mouth open, munching loudly under that hood, walking around without bothering to cover himself and that ungodly erection that is bouncing in the air without a care in the world.

You, on the other hand, escape back under the warm covers of the furs, but your eyes never leave König. He draws the draping flap of his tent aside - still naked - giving his soldiers a good view of his morning wood, a lovely chance to get a look at their champion. Perhaps it’s his way of saying good morning, you think bitterly. Then he leaves, probably to take a piss, and you’re more and more convinced that this man is the worst beast that has ever walked this earth.

You’re still under the furs when he returns and finally gives you the grace of clothing himself. It’s stupid that you mourn losing the sight of those shoulders and feel a bit disappointed when his cock disappears under the red tunic. His manhood doesn’t look any less intimidating even when growing soft; it’s still long and veiny and thick, and you find yourself… curious. Just curious.

He doesn’t put his armour on this time, chooses to wear only his tunic and sandals and a pair of hard-boiled leather cuffs to protect the vital veins on the wrists. He does take one Gladius with him, though - a sign of distrust in his own men or a Roman custom, you can’t tell.

He’s already at the mouth of the tent when he turns and points at you, now with a good amount of sternness in his voice.

“Du. Bleibst.”

…

He’s away the whole day. Probably drawing plans at some field war council, eating and drinking and bouncing some poor girl on his knee. 

Even the thought makes your nose wrinkle and your stomach churn. Of course there are other trophies, and of course men want to show them off, pass them around, give their commanders a chance to give each woman a good squeeze. König has probably stuck that cock into a few women by now. Moaning, screaming women. 

Or then he just settles for annoying their poor senses out of them…

You can’t deny that you’re relieved he hasn’t thrown you to the wolves yet, not even after you denied him. Wondering why on earth he would even want to listen to your wishes gives you an awful headache, and the image of him laughing at - or with - some other shy captive girl is making you uncomfortable. So uncomfortable that you throw the skins away after noon, and decide you’re not going to just succumb to your fate, least of all give in to sadness and apathy. 

You eat this and that from his table like you’re not a slave girl but an honoured guest, a queen. You eat his figs and his bread and some smoked meat; you even drink some of his wine, as sour as it is. You’re a bit tipsy when you go through all his belongings, which are not as abundant or exciting as you thought they would be. 

You thought you’d find tiny chests filled with gold coins and rings. You thought you’d come by dried body parts taken as trophies, perhaps the crown of some long-forgotten Hibernian king. But there are only a few trinkets under his bed, a huge bow and some arrows, his armour and the second Gladius, perfectly stored above the ground so that rust and mould wouldn’t bite them. There are jugs of wine and some firewood and oil for the braziers, there’s water and benches and the table and lots and lots of candles in different shapes and sizes… But that’s it. There’s no hoard, no treasure, nothing to prove to you that this brute is just another Roman soldier trying to gather a fortune by raping and pillaging so that he can go and retire early from all the bloodshed.

And it makes you shiver. Does he do this just for the sake of it, only because he enjoys killing so much? What is his reason to fight?

The only item that sends an odd sting in your heart is a small wooden statue. You feel like a thief when you rummage through a small satchel you find next to his breastplate, the only place you didn’t feel like peeking into because it looked so… personal. 

Proving to yourself that you don’t care about his privacy or feelings, you end up pushing your fingers inside it anyway, meeting this peculiar carved piece of wood. There is nothing else there in the satchel, just the statue, and you feel yourself swallow a lump in your throat as you see it depicts a lush, buxom woman. Her breasts are nearly the size of her belly, larger than her head, and you realize that it is clearly the statue of the Great Mother this brute carries with him.

You put it back quickly, feeling a tingling in your fingers and a rapid flutter in your heart, as if you had just poked into something quite sacred. And it is sacred, the Mother. You wonder why, for the love of all the gods, this man would keep such a divine and fertile amulet near him. The statue is supposed to be a vessel for wishes and fortune; it is an idol of worship. König seems like the last man on earth to take up worshipping women.

You just want to get out of this place but can’t. There’s no one to go back to: your chief is dead, the people have fled, the rest of the warriors are scattered across the land. You have no idea where your brother might even be. 

You have no wish to escape this tent; you have no desire whatsoever to step a foot outside and show yourself to his hungry men. 

König comes back after nightfall and is not surprised at all to find you haven’t escaped. He’s not surprised that you have eaten some of his food either; he doesn’t even scold you. But then the eternal groping starts again as he gets undressed and lays himself down next to you.

You don’t even know why you allow him to touch you. Perhaps it’s because you know it’s better to just let him caress you if he wants; it’s better to suffer the weight of his hands on you if it means he won’t rape you with that cock. If you don’t complain, perhaps he will settle for squeezing and petting and stroking you.

But your body is a traitor: it’s hungry for him, for some ungodly reason, and always craves for more. You say to yourself that you only allow this to happen because it’s a condition, a compromise, a meeting in the middle. You never acknowledge the way your nether lips puff up like a fat flower every time he fondles your breasts. You pay no attention to how wet you get when he caresses your face, your waist, even your thighs, every part of you except the place between your legs, the place you kind of want him to touch... If only he would be gentle and didn’t get too excited, you’d let him touch you there, too, as sick and accursed as it is.

And it’s all good until he starts to hum. 

It may be some song from his homeland, the land of ugly brutes, but it’s not a crude giant song… In fact, it’s a rather beautiful, melancholy tune. Your body is relaxed and your pussy is wet; your nipples are tight and pleased as he pets you slowly, lovingly - but that song is too much. You don’t want him to see you cry, not even a single tear, and now there’s an entire flood about to occur.

“Don’t touch me,” you whisper, trying not to choke on your sorrow. He doesn’t stop - of course he doesn’t. He gets bolder by the day, and he can see that you’re enjoying yourself. In a way.

"Magst du es gestreichelt zu werden?" He asks, soft and tender, so incredibly gentle that the tears are about to burst forth at any given moment now.

“Ich glaube das tust du,” he rumbles when you don’t answer him. His hand is heavy and broad on your hip as he finally stops caressing you. You squeeze your eyes shut, and it causes the glimmer in your eyes to fall. Tears roll down your cheeks and into your hair, as you lie there next to a titan, about to shatter into a million pieces.

“Wurdest du schon einmal berührt…?”

You want to shout at him to shut up already, to stop talking so gently, asking you questions you don’t understand, to stop trying to find a way to communicate with you through song and hum and touch. The hand on your hip moves, slowly, with devastating cunning towards your core. He’s about to touch you there, to try and feel if you’re wet... If you’d like it that he pounded you a little. You wonder if he would do that gently too, and almost laugh through your tears. It will be your undoing if he finds out that you’re soaked all the way to your thighs, aching to feel him inside you, even a finger, just something…

“No… Nein,” you rule out sternly, opening a new way of communication. You don’t know if the word is correct, but he catches it immediately and stops. 

“Nein?”

He sounds both happy and sad; happy that you try to use his language, sad that you use it to give him such a disappointing command.

“No touching,” you repeat and open your eyes, finding his hazy figure hovering above you. You barely discern the gulf of sadness in his eyes, but it is there: undisguised, trying to reach out and join with yours. Gods… How strangely appropriate it is that you are both so very alive, wanting to be devoured by each other’s hunger and lust, only to find yourselves on the brink of tears and hollow loss.

“No... No touching…”

“Verstanden.” 

He takes his hand away from you and turns, not even joining you under the fur tonight.

…

The next morning, you wake up attached to him.

Somehow you’ve managed to wriggle under his furs and, on top of that, crawled to hug his side like this. You blame the spring cold for it, of course. Your heart bangs against your ribs as you notice how tightly you’re squeezing him, breasts pressed flush against his hard middle, belly fluttering against his hip. You’ve even draped your leg across his so that your poor, lonely cunt is resting right there over his thigh. 

You swear in your mind with all the words and terms you know and can think of.

How the hell are you supposed to detach from a giant without waking him up? His arm is around you, holding you loosely in a warm, pleasing shackle. He feels so, so good - blazing, big and safe, so incredibly nice. You never knew sleeping next to a man could feel so nice. You’re half asleep still, mainly because his body and scent make you feel like you’ve had too much wine again.

You allow yourself a few more moments before you rip yourself off him. Or at least, try to: the arm snares you the instant you attempt to move. It prevents you from leaving him, and you end up hovering awkwardly there, almost on top of him, tits pointing straight at his face, panicked, doe-eyed stare guided to his unwavering blue eyes, open, and regarding you with warm love.

And the damned man smirks again.

“No touching?” He inquires with silly, completely feigned shyness.

“Shut up,” you breathe and try to get off of him, but his other hand comes to brush your cheek next, and you freeze.

“Schön… Pretty,” he tries, and you nearly whimper at the sound of your native tongue in his mouth. 

Pretty… Is that what the word means, the odd ugly word he has repeated ever since he stole you?

His eyes are warm and his hand is gentle as he caresses your cheek, and the snare around your waist tightens. Softly… Invitingly.

“Stop it,” you whisper, on the brink of tears again, because this time, your shields and armour and weapons are gone. You just woke up to a feeling of odd contentment, fulfilment, even joy. 

And it’s not right. 

He has no right to be this gentle with you.

You sniffle and sigh, and cast your eyes down to the chest that belongs to a giant. But you can’t deny that there must be a heart under there. A human heart under your palm. Your hand is right there over the strong beat because you’ve tried to push yourself away, and he won’t let you go. Another tear falls somewhere in the hair of his chest, and he rumbles with such compassion that you want to slap him again, hit his chest with your tiny little fists and bawl.

What you do instead is break down and let the ocean take you. You cry and sob and wail, right there in front of him, until he turns you on your stomach and comes to rest halfway on top of you. Through your tears, you understand that he’s trying to soothe you with his weight. It’s pure insanity how well it works. It releases a whole well of grief, and you start to shake with the cries; your whole body shudders with the sorrow as you retch it all out while König continues to caress you like a pet. He strokes your hair, pets your back, he even pats your ass as if you’re just a baby.

You cry long and hard, so long that he eventually lets out a long, deep sigh. When you’ve calmed down a bit and remain still, sniffling occasionally while squeezing the furs in your fist, trying to remember what it is to be an animal with feelings other than just sorrow, he leaves you.

He simply rises, and gets dressed, and leaves.

That is very much what you don’t need right now, much to your surprise. He was good at consoling you, as odd as it sounds.

Cold starts to creep in when there is no warm body next to you, and your skin misses the calloused gentleness of his palms. You wouldn’t mind if he wanted to hum that song to you now. But the darned bastard had to leave just when you were about to turn and cup his hooded face in return...

König comes back after a short while, but he’s not alone. You gather the furs against your chest, horrified and angry when you notice he returns to the tent with a short old man, vigorous and busy, but so tiny in stature that you doubt he was ever a warrior. You wonder if this is another foreigner or if you have the dubious pleasure of meeting your first genuine Roman.

They both stare at you, quite nonchalantly, while you sit there on the bed and try to cover your nakedness with animal skins while having red eyes and a pair of uninviting, quivering, puffed-up lips. 

The short fellow looks you up and down, then turns to talk to König in what appears to be this giant’s mother tongue. It’s a curt suggestion, muttered under his breath, and you realize König must’ve fetched a translator for you.

Oh, good Mother... Great Mother.

You watch these two men before you in a state of stunned shock, as König looks at you, then back at the old man, and nods. The Roman looks slightly vexed as if he just got up too. Then he starts to speak.

“Excuse our manners... We are men at war. If you wish to get dressed, we will wait outside.”

You blink at your own language being spoken to you, perfectly discernable but accompanied by a thick accent. You nod, and the men leave, returning only after you’ve dressed and cleared your throat in the tent.

“He asks if he killed your husband,” the translator starts immediately while König goes to sit on his favourite Roman bench. You’re wide awake now, and the nauseating feeling of being suddenly in the middle of an interrogation rises to your throat with a clot.

“He… What? No,” your eyes dart to König, who is looking at you with his undying ardour. For a man with so much sadness in his soul, he’s surprisingly carefree when he wants to.

“Do you have a husband?”

You gulp at the questions levelled at you. König keeps watching you intently, and you choose to look at the old translator instead, shaking your head slowly. The men exchange a few words, and the Roman turns to scold you with his stare.

“Master reminds you that it is wrong to lie,” he says, putting a lot more weight on his words this time. Roman or not, he calls this giant master, which means that he is just another slave in this camp. You swallow again and try to think, think, think; all the while König’s stare strips you of all your pretences, garments and words.

He thinks you’re trying to hide some imaginary husband, you understand and consider whether you should say that you have a husband: if there is any benefit you could gain from such a lie. König would only probably try to hunt him down… But what if he found out you were telling him tales? Would he feed you to his horny war dogs then?

“I’m not lying,” you say through slightly gritted teeth.

There is another exchange of words before the translator turns to you again.

“Are you untouched?”

“What…?”

“Master asks if you are a virgin.”

The translator is utterly unfazed, and mainly looks like he has better things to do than get to the bottom of whether there has been a cock inside you yet.

“That’s none of his business,” you hiss. The old man turns and starts to translate your words with a dull look.

“Wait—don’t tell him that,” you take a panicked step forward. 

Oh good Father in the Sky… Strike these men down so that I may be freed from them.

They pay you no attention; a few sentences pass from mouth to mouth, and the old man nods.

“Master says you are clearly a maiden,” he declares. You peek a glance at König, who is looking at you with hunger, and not the kind of hunger people look at their breakfasts with. Your breathing is getting out of hand, and when he opens his legs wider, clearly making more room for a rising cock, you decide to throw caution in the wind.

“You know what? Your master can go fuck himself with a stick for all I care…!”

The old man turns. He doesn’t even care to sigh; he merely opens his mouth to give your words to König.

“Don’t you dare translate that!” 

Finally, the old man sighs. He looks at the ceiling as if begging his gods to take him away from this tent. König’s stare flashes between you two, and he is evidently curious. Clearly, this is the most exciting conversation he’s ever had.

“Was sagt sie?”

“Tell him that I want to be freed,” you hurry to say before the translator can tell your insults to König. After a brief conversation, König leans forward in his chair to see the effect his words have on you.

“He says he can’t do that,” the Roman informs. “His soldiers will find you and take you.”

You close your mouth and try to even your breaths. No one says, You don’t want that. Everybody in this tent knows you don’t want that.

“He asks if he killed your brother or your father.”

You sniffle, quite involuntarily.

“No. He didn’t.”

“Then why are you angry and sad?”

There is a hint of genuine interest in the man’s voice. Both of these men are confused as to why you would bawl your eyes out after the massacre of your people.

"Because… Because he…"

“He says it is a man’s duty to die in battle. You should be proud of your fallen ones, not cry and feel sorry for them.”

“Tell him that he can go fuck himself,” you shout, not giving a single shit anymore about whether he translates the words or not. 

To no one’s surprise, he does.

“He says he’d rather fuck you,” he returns to you with König’s message.

You can’t bear to look your captor’s way, and still, that’s exactly what you do. You look at the giant as he stares at you, keen and hard and patient. But you know his patience has its limits. It’s almost like a promise, the way he leans forward in that chair and looks at you from under the hood, shameless and challenging.

“Never,” you guide your words to König now. It’s a brave little whisper, but you know that it’s a lie. Even the Great Mother knows you’re lying. You almost hear the cackle of the old woman rising from the earthen ground, from the chthonic depths, to mock you and your vows.

You hear the old man’s words from somewhere far away, from underwater, as König’s stare wrestles you down and takes away your little knife. He subdues you even when he’s sitting, and shares a string of words: a harsh promise. You hold your breath as his cock gives a pulse under that tunic, and your eyes fall, fall, fall onto it, because there’s no escape…

“He says he can make you feel good,” the voice says, and you can’t even hear who speaks. Your mouth is full of water, but you swallow it down, then shoot your way up to the surface, up, up, up into the sunlight, until you can breathe again.

You rip your eyes from König and look at the Roman translator with loathing and contempt.

“You can leave now. This conversation is over.”

Then you turn, trying not to pay any attention to the hushed conversation that proceeds behind your back. The man leaves the tent: you can hear it, and you can also hear how König rises from the chair and walks right behind you.

“No… afraid,” his hands come to rest on your shoulders, but you don’t even flinch. You knew he was going to touch you again. Perhaps you were even looking forward to it.

“I’m not afraid of you,” you start to argue, but he doesn’t take the bait.

“You like trees?”

He speaks your words, not good, but he speaks them. You wonder if he has known parts of your tongue all along and has simply concealed it. Has he understood what you’ve said to him…? All the slurs and stupid things? Mother, grant mercy…

“Why would I like—What kind of question is that?”

“Climbed a tree,” he explains cheerfully behind you. You turn and look up, yet again rendered weak. Giants are supposed to be stupid. They’re not supposed to know the language of faeries…

“Nosy,” he brushes your cheek with a smile in his eyes.

“Nosy?” 

You huff - as if you wanted to be there and witness him.

As if you had a choice after the seer pushed you on this insane, cruel path.

“Wanted to see me so bad?” König tilts his head playfully.

Gods… You can only look at him with brows curling with helpless frustration, lip trembling from how he seems to know your every little secret. He nods when you don’t say yes or no. He’s perfectly happy to read all the answers from your eyes.

“Ich wusste, dass es so war,” he changes into his own language, and you don’t need to understand the words he says.

You know he knows. He knows you, he knows you to your core, and it doesn’t really matter in which circumstances you two met. He knows far more than you, something about souls and how they’re supposed to meet, how little squirrels and giants belong together, as crazy as it is. That there is no chance in life: no, it was meant that you two meet. To him, it was no coincidence that you practically dropped into his lap from that tree.

“Did you like what you see?”

He holds your shoulders gently as you quiver and shake inside.

“No,” you peep.

“I like what I see,” he declares; a benevolent god.

…

A/N:. Thank you so much for your love and interest in this fic! As you may have noticed the fic now has 4 parts, which is because the 3rd chapter got too chunky and I had to split it 😇 Next part might take a while because I'm moving soon, but let me tell you... These guys will be put into *situations*. Oh, and a reminder that I don't have a taglist for this so please check any future updates from my pinned masterlist post 🩷

Translations:

Gut geschlafen? - Sleep well?

Ja, ich weiß. Ich habe deine Leute getötet. Ich verdiene eine Ohrfeige. - Yes, I know. I killed your people. I deserve a slap.

Es ist schön, mit dir zu reden. Aber jetzt muss ich weg. - It is lovely to talk to you. But now I have to go.

Du. Bleibst. - You. Stay.

Magst du es gestreichelt zu werden? - Do you like being petted?

Ich glaube das tust du. - I think you do.

Wurdest du schon einmal berührt…? - Have you ever been touched…?

Verstanden. - Understood. 

Was sagt sie? - What does she say?

Ich wusste dass es so war - I knew it was so.

[labbaik-ya-hussain-as]

BREAKING: HAMAS LEADER OFFICIAL STATEMENT

Khaled Meshaal:

If the Algerians, Afghans and Vietnamese listened to the advocates of defeatism who demand that we surrender, Algeria, Afghanistan and Vietnam would not have been liberated from colonialism and occupation.

The Al-Aqsa flood inflicted on the occupation psychologically, militarily, and intelligence-wise, and this defeat will be complete soon, God willing.

Oct 7th proved that the terrorist Zionist occupation can be defeated, and it has awakened awareness throughout the world about the justice of the Palestine issue.

The occupation appeared for its barbaric nature when turned into a raging bull that brutalized innocent people and targeted schools, hospitals, mosques, churches, and all aspects of life in our beloved Strip, Gaza.

Why does the Arab & Islamic nation not unite around the resistance? Western countries also rallied to support the Zionist occupation.

After 49 years of terrorist Zionist aggression, the resistance is fine, despite the martyrs among the fighters and some leaders, but our tunnels, ammunition and weapons are still intact, and we are still able to maneuver, launch missiles, and target invading tanks.

We follow the example of our noble Messenger, when he was besieged in the Battle of the Trench and heralding the conquest of the lands of the Romans and Persia.

Our heroic fighters turned tanks that cost millions and are equipped with the latest technology into a “farce,” with a small package attached to their back door and killing the cowards inside.

Hamas leaders lost dozens of their families during the aggression, and we bid farewell to the acting Speaker of the Legislative Council, Dr. Habib, the martyr Ahmed Bahr, and the representative in the Legislative Council, the martyr sister, Jamila Al-Shanti.

The terrorist Zionist occupation failed to achieve its declared goals of eliminating Hamas and displacing the entire population of the Gaza Strip, and the majority of the population of the north remained in the north despite everything that our great steadfast north is exposed to.

Some Western politicians are discussing Gaza after Hamas, and I say to them, save your time, your imagination, and your dreams, and within years, God willing, you will discuss the situation of the region after “Israel.”

We reject the participation of any international or Arab forces in the administration of Gaza, and all these plans will be trampled upon by our heroes in the resistance, led by our victorious Al-Qassam Brigades.

On the first day, we expressed readiness to release detained civilians. Because the objectives of the battle did not include taking them; But the circumstances of the battle, after the collapse of the occupation's Gaza division, led to this, and we released a number of detainees.

When we saw the brutality of the terrorist aggression, we said we must run this card; And to serve the civilians in Gaza and relieve them.

The truce achieves the release of children and women from Zionist occupation prisons, a temporary cessation of aggression, and humanitarian relief for Gaza.

The temporary truce sparked controversy within the entity about the controversy of the war that wants to eliminate Hamas, and then they are forced to negotiate with it indirectly to exchange detained children and women.

Gaza must be supported militarily, and the nation must not be spectators, and must contribute to the outcome of the battle.

We thank everyone who participated in supporting Gaza militarily, and everyone who asks us about the extent of our satisfaction with the participation of some parties, we answer the question: What did you participate in?

Gaza must be supported financially and humanitarianly,the political, popular and public pressure movement must be escalated to stop the aggression.

We showed Israel as it is,weak as a spider’s web, in need of someone to protect it, in addition to its illusory ability to protect others or fight wars on their behalf

[sophia-zofia]

At midday on 7 October Israel’s supreme military command ordered all units to prevent the capture of Israeli citizens “at any cost” – even by firing on them. The military “instructed all its fighting units to perform the Hannibal Directive in practice, although it did so without stating that name explicitly,” Israeli journalists revealed last weekend. The revelations came in a new investigative article by Ronen Bergman and Yoav Zitun, two journalists with extensive sources inside Israel’s military and intelligence establishment. They also revealed that “some 70 vehicles” driven by Palestinian fighters returning to Gaza were blown up by Israeli helicopter gunships, drones or tanks. Many of these vehicles contained Israeli captives. The journalists wrote that, “it is not clear at this stage how many of the captives were killed due to the operation of this order” to the air force that they should prevent return to Gaza at all costs. “At least in some of the cases, everyone in the vehicle was killed,” the journalists explain. The Hebrew piece has not been translated into English by its publisher, Yedioth Ahronoth, a newspaper which translates many of its articles. You can read The Electronic Intifada’s full English version, translated by Dena Shunra, below. The secretive “Hannibal” doctrine is named after an ancient Carthaginian general who poisoned himself rather than be captured alive by the Roman Empire. The order aims at stopping Israelis from being taken captive by resistance fighters who could later use them as leverage in prisoner swap deals. “Overpowered” The latest revelations confirm The Electronic Intifada’s reporting since 7 October that many – if not most – of the Israeli civilians killed that day were killed by Israel itself, not Palestinian fighters. Initial claims stated that 1,400 Israelis were killed by Hamas in the Palestinian assault that began on 7 October. But Israel has repeatedly revised this figure downwards, so that it now stands at “over 1,000.” It was also clear from the outset that hundreds of the dead were in fact Israeli soldiers. Hamas maintains that they targeted military bases and outposts, and that their aim was to capture rather than kill Israeli civilians, and to kill or capture Israeli soldiers. Based on interviews with those present, the new article says that top officers at Israel’s underground military headquarters in Tel Aviv on 7 October declared in shock that “the Gaza Division was overpowered.”

There's more in the link I'm having trouble copying and pasting.

[beautiful-basque-country]

It seems from the interactions I see on social media there is some sort of animosity between Basques from Euskadi and Nafarroa, like distancing themselves from the ikurrina (which I get, they have their own flag, but I'm talking straight up hate). Which is undoudtedly a product of imperialism meant to further drive away any sense of solidarity for all of EH. On the other hand, I see many Basques from Nafarroa who exclusively use Basque (some from Lapurdi too) so maybe things are looking better..

Kaixo anon!

It'd be better to have some context for the situation you describe and that is sadly true. Let's keep in mind that Nafarroa it's divided in 3 different regions regarding Basque language.

Now let’s recap. Although it’s true that the southern side of Nafarroa was the part that suffered the Roman influence the most - it was an ideal location for Roman agriculture - and was very quickly romanized, Euskara didn’t disappear into thin air.

Back in the Middle Ages, Castilian king Alfonso X the Wise used Latin expression “lingua navarrorum” (the language of the Navarrese), and king Charles III of Navarre swore his coronation “in ydiomate navarre” (the language of Navarre). This language was clearly regarded as a different and opposed one to Castilian Romance or Latin, and scholars suspect it would have been probably Euskara.

These mentions happened after Muslim invasion, so we see that after centuries using Latin, Arab, and Romance in Southern Nafarroa, there still remained native languages which were used by many people; people enough for the kings to use it so they could be understood by their subjects, at least.

A bit further in time, in 1566, queen Jeanne III of Navarre requested to translate the New Testament to Euskara so her Basque-speaking subjects could understand it (Bibles and masses were solely in Latin, a language only known by priests and nobility by then). Why even bothering if in the Kingdom of Navarre Basque-speakers were a minority? We highly doubt that a queen was interested in bringing the Bible to a tiny part of the Navarrese population specifically…

However from the 16th century on, everything goes downhill: Castile assimilates the Kingdom of Navarre, all the high public servants would come from Castile or Aragon, and were unable and unwilling to speak Euskara. In 1795 the social elite (mayor, priests, etc) of Artaxona [also in the South, remember] went to court to demand that the town public notary learnt the Basque language since it was “the language most commonly used in town”. They lost the trial.

In the 19th century, the French invasion and the Carlist Wars hastened the regression of Euskara in southern Navarre, that turned almost 100% Spanish-speaking. Franco’s dictatorship just consolidated that situation.

So historically, Basque was spoken by most Navarreses - no matter from the north or the south -, it was just in the last 200 hundred years when it was lost in the southern part of the region.

Nafarroa becoming divided into zones [Basque-speaking, transition, and non-Basque-speaking] is said to be based on history but we all can see it’s bullshit.

That said, it's a bit easier to understand why some Navarreses have this animosity towards Basques - it's not only towards Basques, it's also towards Basque-speaking Navarreses. They like to be considered Navarrese and not Basques - which is super respectable - because the kingdom of Navarre was the one that included Basque people and not the other way around - which is also very true! But don't be fooled. They will swiftly drop historical accuracy to defend that Basque was never spoken in middle and southern Nafarroa and that Basque is being imposed as part of a Basque political agenda; that Basque people are trying to colonize them and make them lose their identity; and that they should resist at all costs by rejecting Basque as an imposed language. French and English - taught in every school - are not imposed and free to go on seemingly.

See how just 2 centuries of assimilation and banning of Basque have twisted their perception? Basque people are imposing our language on them... our language that for centuries was called... the language of the Navarrese??? It's insane.

So this is what dividing a region into here you can speak a language, here you can speak it but you'll be part of a tiny minority, and here you'll find every obstacle imaginable to speak / learn it does to people. Language zonification in Nafarroa is evil and a tool for assimilation that - as you have checked yourself - has worked wonders.

[bad4amficideas]

Bat!Reader Childhood HCs

I'm posting random drafts. incomplete. And so. English with translator. I suppect this maybe even double posted. Uhm. Sorry for the inconvenience.

Note: English is not my language, so I hope you will be understanding of any flaws you find.

🦇Look. You wanted the robins (you already called them all robins even if there was more bats than birds) to become such. You wanted Dick, Tim and Duke with their parents alive and well. To Jason, Stephanie and Harper with the best family circumstances they could muster. Barbara, Luke, Carrie being carefree in their lives, Cassandra adopted in a happy place, maybe with Steph who was not her best friend in the comics for nothing. You wish you could have helped Kate (you were working on Helena and Azrael but were working in his legal name in this moment). Mother of God, you wanted to kill Batman for what it cost you to track down all these people, and even so you know you were missing people but you did pretty well and hell, you were working on it as you could.

Spoilers: Duke, Carrie, Harper, Helena, Azrael (Jean Paul & Michael), Luke Fox, and his predecessor Zavimbe. Batwoman's partner, all "saved" (because I don't know them well enough to write about them and part because the Joker died, the rage is over). Most of them now works or gonna work for WE or the GCPD (it's getting competent) anyway.

🦇But. You walked through your home, looking at empty rooms and fantasized about which one would be filling with each batfam. With how they would be in the mornings, growling, sticking their heads out or snorting at each other.

🦇 Having managed to get Alfred, your father in many ways, to move to a room closer to yours; (and you didn't know the peace of mind that gave you until he did it) a part of you longed for more.

🦇As Y/N Wayne you have a special relationship with Oswald since in your childhood circle he was the one who least infantilized you and you could go with him to do silly things and perhaps some "little savagery"

🦇This is important because with your onset of poison resistance your overall status and appearance as a child was always, regardless of your build, "fragile" looking, and most people tended to overprotect you. Someone from the Gotham paper even turned "Wayne's Treasure" into "Wayne's Gem" into "Wayne's Diamond" (more accurate than they think, hard, but brittle).

🦇Even Roman and Thomas were careful not to go too far in their abuse so people wouldn't say anything to them, which is what started the “they do that to you because they like you"- crap. It also doesn't help that you cousin (who was in her own traumatic moment) was one punch away from letting both of their noses loose. Like, minefield.

🦇Bats met Harvey Dent in high school. And Bats it's very surprised how easy it's to surround oneself with vips (villains-in-progress) in their city. In this AU, Harvey met "the gang" at Gotham Academy for a scholarship since he comes from a middle-class background here. So, to him find the golden child of Gotham being kind and humble and always treating him as an equal and taking his ideas into account. That touches the ego of any adolescent.

🦇Not that Bats didn't know a lot of other people, but Harvey was the only one who put up with the bullshit and bullying of Bats "friends" (putting him further on the road to district attorney ironically). Bats is sure they recognized the names of some Batman's love interests, or at least one female journalist, but they couldn't get close enough to find out.

🦇Their -Harley's- friendship quickly gelled. Both idealists with similar political positions and true desire to do good for Gotham. A breath of fresh air for Bats, surrounded by two cynicals and a girl in a conflicting phase. Despite the fate that hung at the end of the Dent line Bats couldn't help but think how good it would be to have someone like Dent on their side, especially with the owls swarming and all the normal villains that would have to be put forever behind bars first, if they wanted to even think about the ones in colored costumes.

🦇Anyway, shortly after that year/s there was a disconnect with the world as Bats was abducted by the League of Assassins and then trained for 2 years until they was 18 when they ran away, comes back to Gotham and became Bats (and almost at the same time the tragedy of the circus happened but you're still catching up and you don't know that)

🦇I just realized, mathematically, I've made Dick a terrifying murderous prodigy. Fear, enemies of the Court, now the rhyme is legitimately scary.

🦇Continuing with LoA, Reader, you were there for two years and apart from apparently they trying getting you married and being a worthy possible successor, you left –run away- without having a clue what those people wanted with you. Problem. that's exactly what they wanted, the same thing they wanted in another world with Batman, you weren't going to get anything else no matter how much you snoop, but you refused to assimilate that idea, because “why me?” (If you wanna know, among others, they had noticed your private training and how you had been moving to "take Gotham" and other key points on the planet, as if it were your chessboard)

🦇At that time you really didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Or whether to be deeply indignant. This SURE didn't happen to Batman. Wasn't he volunteer to train in the League? Or after 18 anyway? You were already mixing things by stress. Or maybe were the multiverses in your head. What the hell were they doing kidnapping you to train you and shit about weddings? Okay, a couple thing happened to Bruce, but, You were a teenager. What was the word, grooming? Didn't these people have better things to do, like take over the world? to kill people? Also, what's the point of wanting a successor, IF YOU'RE FUCKING IMMORTAL, let's explain.

🦇And then. After you come back, you, Reader, have a lot of people to catch up with and a lot, LOT of explaining to do. And the damn entry into high society and active involvement in Wayne business... But hey, no one appreciates that you escaped from a cult group of super assassins ninjas who btw were still discussing who will you marry when you left. In order not to let women inherit, they are very progressive in everything else.

🦇 At least Alfred believes you. At least you can tell him the truth. On the other hand, it's the truth, imagine if he didn't believe you, having spent two years with a family that has been grooming you at the same time that training you to kill in 50 forms with a spoon. And luckily the batcave was almost set up, you only needed the suit and put together a coherent story of your two years of disappearance (because there is no way you will go through the high school for the third time, being that the League had homeschooled you those years, again). Oh, but some villains were teachers in college. And maybe that could delay your entry into the world of work. Maybe that was worth the try?

🦇The worst is that. Two years and your careful planning went almost all to the fret. Your straps, broken. Dent, thank God, is an attorney and there is nothing unusual about him. But the other two according to the intel you're starting to gather go already for Hush and Black Mask and have the underworld criminal city terrified, Oswald has some dirty things going, you know nothing about Kate but your guess is in the Military Academy, you will inquire, all doctors of their specialties are loaded in their guns (as who says) and, dammit two years and you weren't even in vacations! not fair!

🦇 Aggg, all hurry up and running now. Luckily you had years of planning, but you were afraid of making a mistake. And as soon as you got dressed, the clown would appear because that’s how Murphy works. Some things had been sped up, some had changed, you should start tracking all the robins for their safety...

🦇And you would throw some money and ideas at the Justice League and have them manage without you. They had a forensic and a demigoddess of war and truth, by all deities, they would manage.

Moar spoilers: Villains who did not pass the look of Bats or have been permanently "secured" in Gotham before do actual -big- damage: Falcone, Maroni, Zucco, Professor Pyg, Man-Bat (Ally, it never get to go through that crap), Jeremiah Arkham (diagnosed by out burn before it out of hands), King Tut (who the hell is this??), Clayface, Calendar Man, Condiment King, Deacon Blackfire, Dollmaker, Flamingo, James Gordon Jr., Jane Doe, King Snake (Bane did this), Prometheus (Green arrow doing), Sewer King (no kids in Jason watch), Solomon Grundy. And not just kill anyone who recreates in the pain of others.

🦇: Damn it, I'm one (1) Bat. I'm. NOT. Batman.

[nullominous-q]

Sorry it took a bit! @vexelore I had to hop on my computer to get into this one ^-^; Long answer with major spoilers abound for all released chapters of I'm Glad You're Evil Too, so if you haven't read it, I wouldn't read this lol.

I looooove figuring out how the magic works versus how it is presented in the story. Especially since I'm writing a low/mid-magic world with no warlocks, elves, dwarves, etc. but spirits and unknown forces do exist. So magic isn't known about like an exact science by every person in existence. People know of it and its limits, but that's generally it. What I've tried to portray is that the world once knew much about magic but as society advanced and evolved, the arte of magic is becoming more and more lost over time.

Something I've tried to keep incorporated is what magic costs to a person who can use it, i.e Virgil being out of commission for a full day after saving Roman's life in chapter 3 of Kill For Me. Generally whenever Janus uses magic, he also expends energy that can drain him. Like in the first chapter of Live For Me, after not eating well and possibly lacking in rest, Janus' sudden burst of magic that his body couldn't handle nearly makes him pass out. So whenever any person uses magic, it takes a physical toll on them and the toll can vary depending on many factors. Of course this stuff is already known about but I just like to taaaalk about it :3.

Of things that I can share that may not be so apparent, is the expression of magic through specific people and what it means. For example, Virgil's magic has manifested around his hands when he's using it. While Janus' magic has manifested in multiple ways, so far as separating from his body to form lightning that shapes itself into a snake, down to his eyes simply glowing. Now there are two possibilities as to what that could mean. Either Virgil has much better control over his magic than Janus does to a point where he can keep his magic stabilized around his hands. OR. Janus' reservoir of magic is immensely larger than Virgil's to a point where keeping it that stabilized is much harder/impossible for him. I'll leave it up to readers to theorize which is true.

Something I can definitely say is that for the majority of the story, we've only seen healing, practical and enchanting magic. Those are not the only types of magic available. It is just what we have seen.

As far as the Creativitwins, magic certainly seems to have found its way into their lives while the two remain unwitting. While they do not have the same type of magic that Virgil and Janus do, there is something about them that has a relationship the magic that we simply haven't discovered the explanation to yet. Remus hears disembodied voices, sees things. Roman was able to resist Janus' magic without realizing it. Maybe it has something to do with their past?

Neither of them know what made these things possible, I can tell you that much. They're a kind of undefined in-between of magical and mundane.

Thanks so much for the ask, love, love, love talking about this stuff!

[cabinofimagines]

Day seven; the party

A/N: Happy Halloween! -Danny

Pairing: Platonic!Everyone xgn!reader

Words: 1,035

< prev - Halloween 2022 mlist

Leo had been anxiously waiting for you, you were wearing a matching costume, so you obviously had to show up together to get the effect you wanted. Once you were done, you made your way to the party meeting a few friends in the way. 

You had to admit the decorations were far better than the ones you’d done last year, but this year Leo had been in charge of it, and you’d helped, so you weren’t that jealous. Some people had decided not to wear costumes but they were enjoying themselves pretty well, you spotted Percy and Annabeth, and the young man’s eyes lit up at the sight of you and Leo.

“You did it! Man, you two look amazing!”

“It was so hard to get a resistant fake pumpkin head,” you admit, looking at Leo’s mask proudly. “But hey, he gets to light himself on fire without harming anyone and looks really cool while doing it! It’s a win-win.”

 “What are you guys?”

“Callum and Rayla,” Annabeth points at the purple marks under her eyes.

“Oh, I love that show! I knew you guys were looking familiar!” Leo says. “Great choice!”

“You guys saw Frank?” Percy grins. “He came as a trollhunter.”

“What!” You quickly push through calling for your friend, finding him talking with Piper and Jason— who decided to dress up Captain America. “Oh Gods! Look at you!”

They compliment your costume and ask about Leo, who’s a little behind since you decided to sprint across the place to find Frank the trollhunter, once he finds your group he comes with Thalia, Reyna and Calypso. Thalia is dressed as a knight, and Reyna is weeping lady— she called it “La llorona”. Calypso can’t be seen under the bed sheet, but her eyes are very bright and happy, and her voice is blithe, so you can tell she’s having fun.

A voice comes from behind you. “Great party, kids!”

Apollo and Meg are also wearing matching costumes: Lester is the little girl from Hocus Pocus and Meg is Winifred’s undead boyfriend Billy.

“Really outdid yourselves, all of you,” Meg says approvingly. “Didn’t think Romans knew how to be fun.”

“Hey!” Jason frowns. “We invented fun.”

“That’s such a lie,” Thalia teases him. “But I also think you guys did an amazing job.”

“Very good for mortals,” Apollo admits with a playful grin. “But nothing like a godly party. Maybe we should make the next one in Olympus.”

Everyone looks at him in horror. Frank gulps. “Not sure that’d be as fun for us as for you, buddy.”

“Oh c’mon! I’ll tell everyone to keep themselves from killing any of you for fun! I promise I’ll watch your back!”

“Absolutely not,” Piper frowns. “Drunk Gods are more dangerous than any monster, no one wants to be around that!”

Everyone agrees, and Lester has no choice but to admit defeat. However, Meg pats him on the back and offers an alternative. 

“Well, we can always do it in my house? I mean, I know nymphs and satyrs love to party, so...” she looks at the rest of you. “If you’re interested in keeping up the tradition of changing up the place and host...”

“If you’re up for it, sure,” Leo says slightly surprised. “But you have school and all, Meg— we can help you out.”

“Hey, she’s got a God for that,” Lester says defensively. “But I wouldn’t mind it if some of you decide to hang out before the party,” he puts an arm around your shoulders and squeezes. “Would love to spend more time with my friends. I don’t see you as often as I’d like... and I still have godly duties to attend, so I might need help with a few things.”

“Cool!” Frank pats his back. “Have fun.”

“Now let’s stop thinking about the next party and enjoy this one!” You exclaim, grabbing Leo’s wrist. “Come on, Jack, I want to jumpscare Nico.”

You did jumpscare Nico. At what cost? Well, now you were running for your lives from a few angry ghosts that he’d sent to chase you.

You were laughing hysterically though, which was not helping you get away any faster from the current threat, and you only got rid of them until you promised not to do that to Nico ever again.

“I know you liked it too, though!” Leo says reproachfully. “You’re laughing!”

“I’m laughing because I saw you run around like headless chickens for the last ten minutes,” Nico smirks, grabbing the drink Will was offering to him. “You’re in your twenties and you still act like the teenagers we met years ago. That’s embarrassing.”

You could tell he wasn’t that upset about it, however. Nico liked seeing his friends having fun, even if sometimes that happiness came from his own embarrassing moments, sometimes looking silly was worth it.

“At least they didn’t scare the children,” Will says.

“Who do you think we are?” You say in outrage. “Scaring children? We’re not assholes!”

“Yeah! Besides, Y/N already does that without trying to on a daily basis, so it’s not exciting anymore.”

You push him sideways and Leo chuckles. “Rude!”

“You guys tried Hazel’s Jamaica’s water?” Will points to the drinks he and Nico are holding. 

“I gave her the recipe,” Leo winks at him. “Great for Halloween if you ask me, right? She wanted something that wasn’t like soda for the sugar-free people. I thought this was the right choice. I mean, it’s red.”

“It’s really good,” Nico hums.

You support one arm on Leo’s shoulder. “Another successful Halloween for the demigods, one for the books, am I right?”

Leo snorts, poking your side. “We’ll never be able to thank you enough for starting this in the first place,” he says dramatically.

“Oh, you don’t need to, I live to please the masses,” you wink at him, then your smile fades a little. “That sounded wrong.” Leo’s smile grows, you frown at him. “I messed up.”

“Do you please the masses, Y/N?” He asks casually.

“Don’t you dare.”

“I have a mass that you could pl—”

“Nico, I’ll pay you five drachmas if you send more ghosts after Leo.”

“Deal.”

“NO—”

[needcake]

Same anon who asked about the Scot/Port alliance AU thing. What about Wales and Portugal as allies?

Hi, Rains' anon! Thank you for coming by!

I think with Wales we bump into the same problem as with an alliance with Scotland instead of England. The thing that made the Anglo-Portuguese friendship begin and evolve was England's participation in the second crusade and its general seafaringness, which neither Scotland nor Wales had. It was the English that, while on route to Jerusalem, accidentally crashed into Portugal while they were in the middle of their fight against the islamic taifas, so if the Welsh couldn't spare the men to fight for the pope, that point of connection would never happen.

BUT LET'S IMAGINE SOMETHING ELSE.

I could maybe see this happening in two ways: 1) much earlier, maybe prior to the Roman conquest, or 2) much later, if the English never help Portugal in their reconquista and by the time Owain Glyndŵr rolls around he maybe sends an ambassador to sign an alliance with the Portuguese. Both of these are very unlikely, but let's play with it, let's say it could happen.

In scenario 1, the Celtic tribes in Wales could possibly have sent a mission to the Celtic tribes in Galicia and maybe possibly to the Lusitanos further south. This one is unlikely because research points to the Celtic tribes being so different from one another that to bring them all together against the much more powerful and much more disciplined Roman army would be near impossible due to their in-fighting. Maybe they could have exchanged a few princesses, made a few marriages, sent an army and horses here and there, but they would ultimately fall into Roman hands. From what little I could gather on the internet (I am no professional historian), both the Lusitanos in Hispania Ulterior and the Celtic tribes in Western Britannia were finally assimilated around the same time, between 20 and 60 a.d. in the 1st century. So even if they had allied then, it would still fall apart.

In scenario 2, the more interesting one, we would have to consider that Portugal never had any ties to the English and that English history happened without any ties to the Portuguese either.

There was a lot of trade that happened between these two, specially in a time when England and France were at constant war against one another, and Castile often allied with France against England. So fruits, furs, leather, salt, all of that was being imported into England from Portugal. We have to picture an England from 12th century onward that would be extremely isolated, aggressive, ill-fed and ill-dressed. They would depend too much on their trade with the County of Flanders, as well as maybe forced into an alliance with the Nordics, probably Denmark. The English population would suffer as well with increasing war taxes and the human cost of war.

Portugal, on the other hand, would have to have won its independence from León by itself, and resisted every Castilian attempt to unify Iberia. They would also have a trade connection with the County of Flanders, but to avoid them entering in contact with the English there (in actual history, this triangle between Portugal, England and Flanders was a rich and prosperous trade alignment), Flanders would have to be completely neutral, which would mean that in the 13th century France would be able to take it over. The Treaty of Pont-à-Vendin would ensure France liberty to essentially do whatever it wanted and take whatever territories it pleased, and the Portuguese prince who had married the Countess of Flanders wouldn't have gone to the English for help. The Battle of Bouvines would never take place, and John I of England would never lose Normandy, the Angevin Empire would live a little longer and he wouldn't have to sign the Magna Carta.

An isolated and belligerent Portugal, one that never married João I to Philippa of Lancaster and thus never had the illustrious generation, which held the princes and princesses responsible for Portugal's maritime expansion, would maybe lean more on its alliances with Denmark, and could be receptive of a Welsh delegation seeking help in the beginning of the 15th century. The Portuguese would still have to have dealt with the Berber raids in the south, and maybe that could give them the naval war experience needed to aid the Welsh.

Portugal is also a mountainous country, so guerilla fighting against a bigger army in a rocky place seems to be right up their alley.

It is likely that the English would still win against Owain Glyndŵr in the end, but in the case they didn't, that the Portuguese proved to be the decisive factor that won Wales its independence, they could have a long and profitable history together. With Welsh wool bring traded for the goods Portugal had to offer.

With the English and the French still fighting the Hundred Years War, and the Ottomans still taking Constantinople, Portugal would still go out to sea and find a new route around Africa. Maybe it would take them longer without Prince Henry the Navigator, but with the Castilian Jewish expulsion at the end of the 14th century, they would still end up in Portugal and bring their knowledge and experience with them.

And with Antwerp in French hands, Portugal would have to invest in itself to be able to process and refine all the goods it was bringing from overseas and then Lisbon would be the biggest trade center in Europe (even bigger than it actually was), outshining Venice. That, added to its lone wolf stance having had no help to ascertain its independence and security, would probably make it an aggressive, self-sufficient country, impossibly rich and arrogant.

The power axis of Europe would maybe be more distributed. With both edges of it, Portugal and the Ottomans, controlling the flow of spices in a long cold war of sorts.

France would divide the Flemish region with the HRE, England would be even more isolated and maybe even impoverished, having to lean even heavier into piracy and suffering harsher consequences for it without the Anglo-Portuguese Alliance to lean back on.

Wales would probably prosper, but it would be too reliant on Portuguese naval help and commerce.

And since Castile would still get its share of the world because Portugal would still be arrogant enough to snub Columbus and Magellan, adding to the fact that the Ottomans would still finance the Moroccans against Portugal, Portugal would still fall to its own hubris eventually. And when it does, the Welsh would be on their own with a hungry neighbor by their side 👀

[greengroth]

Defense against EMF

You should prevent electronic devices, like cell phones if a person are sensitive in order to EMF. There are many strategies to shield yourself against EMFs. These include shielding fabrics, metal nylon uppers, and crystals. Stay away from devices that produce ionizing radiation. Shielding fabrics Shielding textiles can be used to protect oneself from electromagnetic radiation. These fabrics can be used anywhere in the house. Some fabrics are thick in addition to breathable while others are mesh-like, and can be used intended for bed sheets. They could be used as a new canopy to block radiation from cell phones and laptops. Protective shielding from electromagnetic radiation may be possible for polyamide woven fabrics with silver precious metal coating. This material has a twenty dB protective factor. The silver-coated thread provides it with a smooth feel. These textiles may be machine rinsed and are safe for human pores and skin. This fabric can also be very odor-resistant and even conductive. Shielding textiles are expensive plus can be more pricey than others. They might cost hundreds involving dollars. There will be many affordable alternatives. Radiation shielding fabrics are effective throughout protecting you towards harmful EMFs in the event that used properly. Steel mesh Metal fine mesh is a great solution to protect your own home from electromagnetic frequencies. This fabric could reflect both pulsed and aanalogradio eq. It is furthermore resistant to llow-frequencyAC electrical fields. It may protect your home from RF radiation and even also serve because an insect monitor. There are several types involving metal mesh. Copper mineral is the nearly all popular type. Another type of metallic mesh is man?uvres. It has superb shielding properties. This is used in HVAC systems, microwaves, plus other applications. It is usually used in DO-IT-YOURSELF projects. Another material that can be used to defend eagainst lectromagnetic the radiation is copper wire mesh. Aluminum nylon uppers can be another option. Aluminum webbing is an excellent option as it blocks RF effectively plus allows windows in order to open without any kind of harmful effects. check it out are available at House Depot in addition to on-line. These screens cost $60 each and do not incorporate shipping or labor. These screens can also be personalized, which can enhance the price.

Deposits There are numerous kinds of crystals. Each crystal has its benefits and properties. Smokey Quartz absorbs and changes negative energy straight into positive. It can easily therefore be utilized to protect oneself from electromagnetic the radiation. Smokey quartz can be used to ground yourself with nature. Before making use of Smokey Quartz to guard yourself from EMFs, make sure an individual consult an experienced specialist. Black Tourmaline is definitely another type of crystal that might absorb EMFs. Dark Tourmaline could also be used to cleanse the. This stone may also be used as jewelry, which often can prevent EMF symptoms. You might find EMF protection products both in on the web and offline stores. Hematite, another rock that protects your current body from the radiation and EMF smoke, is also offered. This dark drinking crystal has blood-purifying qualities and was used in the battle suits of Roman troops. It helps eliminate toxins from the body. Hematite is rich in iron so it's great if you spend some sort of lot of your energy inside a highly scientific areas Avoid products that emit ionizing radiation The suggestions are actually established by simply the EPA, seeing that well as various federal and state regulatory agencies in order to limit overall EMF exposure. The official report is focused on radiation from clever meters that could cause cancer. Yet , tsome other technologies and products emitradiation from different levels. Regarding example, the BRITISH has regulations regarding radiation from electric powered power lines. The particular Federal Communications Commission rate (FDA) and FDA in the Unified States regulate particular devices make limits on EMFs in work. Both companies have published suggestions based on ppeer-reviewedscientific literature. EMF is usually created when sunlight's energy is converted to light surf. Although it is harmless at reduced levels, this power can be dangerous at higher level. EMF can get generated by indoor lighting or electric powered power lines. These kinds of devices were popularized in the twentieth century, increasing EMF exposure. EMFs can easily cause brain harm and pathology similar to Alzheimer's. Research has also suggested of which RF-EMFs could affect the body's tissues. Researchers found that RF-EMFs had an important influence on body tissue heating and lack of feeling activity in one study. This finding is still staying confirmed by a lot more studies.

[affordableblindsandshutters]

Transform Your Space: The Ultimate Guide to Blinds on the Gold Coast

Are you looking to enhance the aesthetic appeal and functionality of your space on the Gold Coast? Look no further than blinds! Blinds are a versatile window treatment option that can instantly elevate the look of any room while providing practical benefits such as privacy, light control, and insulation. In this comprehensive guide, we'll explore everything you need to know about blinds Gold Coast, from the different types available to the benefits they offer and why Affordable Blinds and Shutters is your go-to destination for quality window treatments.

Why Blinds?

Blinds are an excellent choice for homeowners and businesses alike for several reasons:

Versatility: With a wide range of styles, colors, and materials to choose from, blinds can complement any décor style, from modern to traditional.

Light Control: Adjusting the angle of the blinds allows you to control the amount of natural light entering your space, creating the perfect ambiance.

Privacy: Blinds provide privacy without compromising on style, making them ideal for bedrooms, bathrooms, and living areas.

Energy Efficiency: Certain types of blinds, such as honeycomb or cellular blinds, offer excellent insulation properties, helping to reduce energy costs by maintaining indoor temperatures.

Durability: High-quality blinds are built to last, with materials that are resistant to fading, warping, and cracking, ensuring long-term satisfaction and value.

Types of Blinds:

Venetian Blinds: Versatile and timeless, Venetian blinds feature horizontal slats that can be adjusted to control light and privacy.

Roller Blinds: Simple and sleek, roller blinds offer a clean and modern look with easy operation and a wide range of fabric options.

Vertical Blinds: Ideal for large windows and sliding doors, vertical blinds feature vertical slats that can be tilted or drawn to the side for optimal light and privacy control.

Roman Blinds: Elegant and sophisticated, Roman blinds offer a soft, fabric look that adds warmth and texture to any room.

Why Choose Affordable Blinds and Shutters?

At Affordable Blinds and Shutters, we are committed to providing our customers on the Gold Coast with high-quality blinds at competitive prices. Here's why you should choose us for your window treatment needs:

Quality Products: We offer a wide selection of blinds made from premium materials to ensure durability and performance.

Expert Advice: Our team of experienced professionals is here to guide you through the selection process, offering personalized recommendations based on your preferences and budget.

Professional Installation: Leave the installation to us! Our skilled installers will ensure that your blinds are installed correctly and securely for optimal functionality.

Customer Satisfaction: We prioritize customer satisfaction above all else, striving to exceed your expectations with every interaction and purchase.

Conclusion:

Blinds are a stylish and practical window treatment option that can enhance the beauty and functionality of any space on the Gold Coast. With Affordable Blinds and Shutters, you can trust that you'll receive top-quality products, expert advice, and exceptional service every step of the way. Contact us today to schedule a consultation and transform your space with blinds that reflect your style and personality.

[tiredanvilandmace]

BASIC INFO

full name — Nicolo "Nico" Tagglieri age — thirty-eight (february 5) gender — cis male, (he/ him/ his pronouns) orientation — bisexual occupation — blacksmith deity connection — hephaestus  donkey name — aj (apple jack) significant other — daniel coleman (deceased), kit garrow, lev rojas weapon — custom-made maul + chainshirt clothing style/ armor — casual, fitting (illegally well)

PHYSICAL INFO

face claim — DJ Cotrona hair — dark brown / eyes — scotch height — five foot & ten inches build — broad furry chest, strong arms, generally fit scars — deep, big scar on the side of his right thigh, some battle scars tattoos — (magical) roman camp + time served like so piercings — no special characteristics — will work in the forge/workshop all day to fiddle with armor or weapon improvements, flirt up a storm if given the chance, loves to geek out over history sexual preference — top switch

PERSONALITY

alignment — chaotic good positive traits — focused, charming, protective, resourceful negative traits — reckless, unsocial (unless put in the position not to be), annoying hobbies — training, blacksmith-ing, being a hermit

MEDICAL INFO

mental — mommy issues physical — deep, big scar on the side of his right thigh, some battle scars, otherwise healthy phobias — fear of being abandoned by loved ones eyesight — 20/20 dominant hand — left hand drug use — nop alcohol use — sometimes diet — nothing special, the world rejoices when he eats because he tends to forget, will enjoy home-made food

BACKGROUND

birthplace — long island, NY parents — alessandro & oriana tagglieri siblings — half siblings due to hephaestus being his father, micah reid (younger sibling; oriana & lochlan reid (affair)) pets — aj, his donkey education — high school graduate notable skills — v talented blacksmith and trap builder, history/lore memory

BIO

Hephaestus didn’t keep him waiting long. His twelfth birthday was marked with the revelation that he was not his father’s son, but actually the child of the God of the Forges. He couldn’t say that the news of who his siring father truly was did any good for the relationship he had with his father.

Nicolo couldn’t say that his father was a bad father. If at all, he was a role model. Treated his mother with kindness, provided to their house, and still made time to play with him. However… After he found that out and a few weeks before his school year was over, there was an incident that, to this day he still doesn’t know how to explain but cost him his return the following year. His father, although resistant at first, finally changed his opinion and urged his mother to send Nico to the camp for the summer. It would be best for him and he would be safe there.

The trip to Long Island was unexpectedly uneventful. His father still wasn’t happy with him but he knew it would be for the best and it would only be for the summer. Come the school year, he’d be back with his family and everything would be alright again.

Or so he told himself. Time and time again.

And although it was only for three months, it was… Interesting to learn about his divine inheritage. And about the forge. Sure, three months would not be enough to get him in any decent shape. But as the following years rolled around, he found himself learning how to balance the both halves of his life. It wasn’t an easy path but he would make his father proud. And would try and not become a disappointment to Hephaestus.

For the next 5 years he would find himself in a very comfortable cycle. Going to and from camp in summer, working the forge and during his senior year at high school the main talk with his father was about where he’d be going to college the next year. He was excited to follow in his dad’s footsteps but there was one variable that his mother would not let either of them forget. Nico’s blood father. His powers. And everything else that came with that side of his life. Including the weird and unexpected visitors that would show up in the middle of the night. Asking for shelter… Or reinforcement. And the weapons Nico carried with him. Bade by himself. How was he supposed to attend college across the country so far away from them? From help in case he got into trouble?

Unfortunately… The decision was taken away from him. As his father drove him to camp for that summer they were also chased by monsters. Well, Nico’s father was intent on making sure his son would reach safety whereas Nico could not let his mortal father stand in harm’s way. That wouldn’t do. So… After some arguing and some yelling, Nico’s father finally agreed to let him go and turned the car around to leave as Nico made a run for the hill that would lead him into the camp, hoping that he’d be able to distract the monster for long enough so his father would be able to put a safe distance from the monster. But the mission that he was assigned that summer only served to prove that he was a growing source of danger to his mortal family and he’d spend the next three years with his focus only on training and forging. And maybe a certain distraction, to make things less dull.

And said distraction took the shape of a boyfriend. A son of Apollo, Daniel, who seemed to spend every waking moment trying to get into Nico’s nerves and when he finally caved, he came to realize that he was not as annoying as he once thought. And Nico had honestly thought that it would be a good idea to take Daniel along with him to spend Christmas with his family. Especially since it would also be his father’s 50th birthday. Not to mention that he was scared out of his mind, afraid that Daniel and his father wouldn’t get long… Little did he know that their celebration would be overrun by monsters, following the scent of two delicious demigods. Sure, they had been trained to deal with monsters, but in a suburban neighborhood and surrounded by mortals that they should also protect, they were quickly outnumbered.

Nico, resourceful as he liked to think he was, created a diversion so he could escape with his mother while yelling to Daniel to help his father and run. What he did not expect… Was that there would be cyclops waiting for them and he’d have to stand there, helpless, as he watched the two most important men of his life be taken away from him in a single motion. All he could do was get his mother out of there and not succumb to despair. An herculean task in and of itself.

And as a result… He lost connection with his mother… And with himself. Without his Father and Daniel he felt like there was not much he could live for and that made him quite reckless in battle, charging forward without a plan or strategy, only wanting to put down as many monsters as possible. Until a nearly fatal wound brought a new perspective to his life.

He was not a leader. And he was no longer a fighter. Hell, he had failed as a protector. What else was there for him? Well… The answer would be in his forge.

Creation. 

Traps. Weapons. Armos. Shields. Gadgets. He’d create and develop the deadliest toys he could think of. And then his fellow demigods hopefully would make it safely back to camp. Hopefully, he’d prevent the ones that never left camp from losing their own Daniels as they went on missions.

Hopefully.

[roman-cates]

"Yeah. You're always looking at clocks, and I know you lost your last one in the whole accident. You should get a new one." Bryce pulls a few almost at random and looks them over.

"This one has the day of the week, that's cool. Solar powered, you probably don't need that. Water resistant to fifty meters…I'm not sure how that's not waterproof." He shrugs a little, putting them back. "Anyway. These all seem fine."

Previous

"Anyway. These all seem fine."

Roman can't help the smile that spreads across his face. He looks at a few different watches. The last watch he owned was less than 10 bucks. None of these are less than 15. Most are more. Roman avoids any over 40 and ends up finding one that has the time including seconds, the month and day, and the day of the week. It's about 35 dollars. He figures that's not too bad and Bryce doesn't really seem to appreciate it when Roman worries about how much something costs.

"What about this one?" He asks.

[droningmachinations]

Is To Shout The Truth: A Droning Machinations Episode

Written By Joseph M.

My name, my story is something I can't yet reveal. What I can reveal, speckles of my past that are already dashed throughout my writings and ramblings. I can disclose my alias, an online name I use to shroud myself in a veil of mystery and cloak my identity: MrHacker.

The story I am about to immortalize forever in these writings is one of action, adventure, mystery, myth and religion, fantasy and reality. I will take you back in time, first to the year of 1940 during the Nazi regime, in a country controlled and overseen by Hitler himself called Nordland, wherein lived a soldier named Colonel Geri Becker.

Researching, I admired this man's feats. He was a North Texan who resisted the Nazi invasion of Nordland during the Second World War. His prickly shaved black beard and dirty soldier uniform told all, that he was a soldier at heart and a man of his army. He brought pride to Nordland, a Spanger speaking country (Spanger being a portmanteau of the two languages comprising this code-switched language.)

As the Spanger speaking people would say, "Lang lebe el hombre de Nordland." Touting and praising the man of Nordland, it was something he well deserved, especially after his feat of greatness in the Battle of the Holy See.

The Nazis had invaded the Holy See; crosses were replaced with Nazi symbols, crucifixes were replaced with idolatry and Hitler propaganda. Upon reading their horrendous acts of removing and destroying Christian symbols, I was surprised; usually the Nazis would twist symbols like the Swastika to try and create their message, but here they were outright removing it. It's not like it was any less immoral anyway.

Case in point: Geri Becker, stationed in the Holy See, fought off Nazis and acquired a precious artifact. He stumbled through the burning Greco-Roman inspired pillars and into a Pantheon-esque building to retrieve a highly coveted artifact that had the same amount of value and prestige as the Holy Grail itself.

It was a small golden orb with lime emeralds glistening as it was pulled through the orange and yellow monsters consuming the Holy See, and it dazzled as two oily hands brought it into the white gaze of the blistering orb revolving around our very home, the gleaming ball constantly shining and giving our sphere of blue and green stuff light as we circled around it in a wonderful dance, its gaze intermittent and often shrouded by storm clouds.

Case in point: Geri Becker acquired the artifact known as the Saucer from the Holy See, and I acquired it through Geri Becker's old confidantes. By the twisting and turning path that my life took me down, I ended up posessing the most powerful relic in the Catholic mythos, and now was the best time to put its mythical qualities to the test. I removed the emerald sphere from its case and examined it, before stuffing it into a black backpack and rushing downstairs into the poorly-lit basement, the entrance concealed by an alphabetically-sorted bookshelf.

I was inclined to stop the terrorist organization LEVIATHAN, and I was determined to do this at all costs, though I calculated that this operation had little risk and many rewards, especially beneficial to the fate of the cosmos. LEVIATHAN was almost as bad as the Nazis, maybe even worse in some aspects and from some viewpoints, and maybe one of the worst terror-mongering groups of all time, and some of their acts are so horrendous no writing would do it justice, and no speech either.

Before I had entered the basement, I grabbed a book detailing the origins, the history of the relic dubbed the Jesus Stone snd flipped through the dusty, tanned and inked papyrus. Remains of the ink-dipped feather pens used to write this manual were still here, and ink residuals smudged the pages. I said to myself, "Here goes nothing."

I flipped to the right page and began reading aloud the Latin script. Some of it I could translate despite my rough Latin knowledge, but the writing was desecrated and eroding away slowly, withering from the effects of time. From what I gathered, the first line of the spell that activated the Jesus Stone translated to, "See my heart, know it true; open my eyes to see the past, future too; Jesus Stone I call to you."

As I recited the spell contained within the torn pages of the manuscript, the letters on the pages began to light up, and orange embers floated out from the page; it was like the same creatures of warmth and orange-yellow glow that consumed the Holy See were returning from the pages of the book, now purified and tame.

Case in point: the Nazis didn't burn down the Pantheon structure Geri entered; it was a lightning strike, possibly divine intervention.

Researching the Jesus Stone, I learned of the relic's holy powers. Whoever recited the chant contained within the hallowed Book of the Stone of Jesus could attain a power only God Himself had: the foresight of the future and the ability to see the past, all the way to the Cretacious and Jurassic periods of the dinosaurs, all the way to an infinite amount of time even before then.

This was it. This was the tool I could use to finally bring down Leviathan.

But somehow, I wasn't in my basement anymore. I was in Jerusalem, and I was approached by a man with tangerine and charcoal fur on his olive skin; he had long, woven matte black dreads that seemingly flew softly in the 33 BC Jerusalem breeze. He had a gruff voice like a tiger, and thick fur on his face; two fangs ran down his face, almost poking into his chin.

While I stared in shock, he introduced himself as the Messiah. "I am Jesus Christ, the Lord of the Tigers and Man, Slayer of the Serpents, the Son of God, and the one destined to save humanity from eternal damnation. Believe in me and you shall have eternal life." His tiger ears fluttered as he said this, and he had a gentle smile on his face despite having the appearance of a tiger.

It was then certain in my mind that he wasn't just a man who bore resemblance to a tiger; he was both a tiger and man at the same time. He put his paw on my shoulder, and led me to a shambly hut with his talon-crowned trident of fuzz and knuckles, a crumbling abode where he sought refuge during the punishing reign of Julius Caesar and during famishes and droughts. He extended both arms as if to pull two clumps of air together, extended his hands, stood straight and met my eyes with a heat-struck gaze.

[forwardaircargo]

SHIPPING FROM DUBAI TO ROMANIA

Romania's history is rich and diverse, shaped by a tapestry of cultures, conquests, and influences over the centuries. Situated at the crossroads of Eastern and Central Europe, the region that is now Romania has been inhabited since ancient times. In ancient history, it was home to the Dacians, a Thracian people who fiercely resisted Roman conquest but eventually succumbed to Roman rule in the 2nd century AD. The Roman Empire left a lasting imprint on the region, with Roman culture and language influencing the local population.

Romania is considered the leading country in Central and Eastern Europe in the field of foreign direct investment, as it is one of the largest electronics producers in Eastern Europe, in addition to its international university that students seek from everywhere, in addition to the tourist and historical places, which is a great destination for lovers of tourism and travel.

All of the above made there are large movements of people between the UAE and Romania, for tourism, study or work, so Forward Air Cargo always seeks to be a leader in providing safe, fast and provided shipping services between Dubai and all regions in the Romanian territory, where the company ships goods And personal belongings, cars, furniture and other types of shipments from Dubai and the UAE to Romania, through sea freight and air freight.

Sea freight from Dubai to Romania

Whatever the shipment, whether a car, merchandise or a personal shipment, Forward Air Cargo provides sea freight services from door to port or from port to port.

Where Forward Air Cargo receives the shipment from the customer, prepares it and packs it into containers, whether it is full containers belonging to the customer only or joint containers between him and others, and then transfers it to the port, for the ships to sail from Jebel Ali Port until they reach their destination in the port of Constana.

Air freight from Dubai to Romania

Air freight is characterized by its speed in transporting shipments and good insurance for them, but of course it is higher in cost. Forward Air Cargo has sought to achieve the appropriate competitive price equation for the customer while providing a distinguished and safe air freight service to anywhere in Romania.

Forward Air Cargo provides door-to-airport shipping service as well as door-to-door in air freight, where our team receives the shipment from the customer’s door in the cities of the Emirates, and then transfers the shipment to the airport and prepares it for packaging, with the completion of all customs procedures related to shipments, until a journey begins Air freight and finally arrive at one of the Romanian airports, then the shipment is transported by carriers from the airport to the recipient’s door as specified by the customer.

Cities we cover within Romania

Forward Air Cargo provides shipping service from Dubai and the cities of the Emirates to all Romanian cities such as Cluj-Napoca, Bacau, Bucharest, Constanta, Craiova, Iasi, Oradea, or Sibiu.

Our advantages in shipping from Dubai to Romania

FORWARD AIR CARGO SERVICE & CLEARANCE LLC dealings with international shipping companies, which facilitate shipping operations from Dubai to Romanian ports, which facilitates the performance of shipping and transport operations at any time.

Specialized car shipping service from Dubai to Constanta port in Romania.

Providing the service of partial or combined shipping via sea freight to Constanta port.

FORWARD AIR CARGO has technicians specialized in the processing and packaging of shipments, which ensures that they are preserved from any damage until they reach their destination.

With the team of experts in FORWARD AIR CARGO, all logistical solutions are provided, all customs procedures are completed, and fees are paid without any effort on the customer.

Ease of obtaining competitive quotes for shipping through the company’s website, and inquiries through customer service to ensure that the customer receives his shipment correctly and in the shortest time and at the lowest price.

For More Please Visit Us On www.forwardair-cargo.com

#shipping#romania#constanta#seacargo#seafreight#airfreight#landfreight#doortodoor#customsclearance#carshipping#cargo

[bindleyblinds]

Blinds and Shutters - A Guide to Buying Blinds and Shutters

Blinds are a common window furnishing that can help control heat, light, and glare. They are available in a wide variety of styles and materials. Higher quality blinds are more durable and will resist moisture better than cheaper varieties.

Blinds Melbourne provide a stylish look while protecting you from the sun’s harmful UV rays. They are also energy efficient and offer privacy.

Roman blinds

Roman blinds are a fantastic way to add style and class to your home. They come in a range of colours and styles, making them ideal for all kinds of interiors. They can also be motorised, which makes them easy to operate.

They’re also available in a variety of fabrics, from light filtering to blockout. This allows you to choose the best fabric for your home’s needs. For example, you might want to consider the Concord Roman light-filtering fabric, which features stylish natural horizontal slubs and a weighty tweed check.

Flat roman blinds are a more traditional style that creates a clean and fitted appearance. They look great with materials like velvet and damask, as well as more relaxed roman fabrics. They can also be made with timber battens, which give the blinds a sleek contemporary appearance.

Roller blinds

One of the most versatile and economical blinds on the market, roller blinds are custom-designed to fit windows of any shape and size. They can appear as a design feature or be hidden within customised pelmets, and they are perfect for homeowners with limited remodelling budgets.

They are also easy to operate, with a pull chain or motorised option. They can be easily rolled up or down, and they offer excellent light filtering fabrics that block out harmful UV rays.

Our roller blinds are available in a range of colours and materials, including sunscreen, translucent, and blackout fabrics. They can be customised with options such as timers and sun sensors to automate their operation. They can also be fitted with child proof locks for safety and security.

Zebra blinds

UV rays from the sun can damage your furniture, wallpaper, carpeting, and artwork. They can also fade your curtains, upholstery, and other window coverings. This type of window treatment blocks out the rays and helps protect your valuables.

Zebra blinds are a modern window treatment that offers style and practicality. They are made from alternating translucent and opaque horizontal striped fabrics that slide past each other with a single chain control.

They can be easily adjusted to provide the amount of light you want in a room. They are available in a variety of fabrics, colours, and patterns. These blinds can be used in any style of home. They also offer complete privacy when closed. They do not need any cords, which makes them safer for young children and pets.

Cellular blinds

Cellular blinds (also known as honeycomb blinds) feature unique, honeycomb-shaped cells that trap air, creating a superior energy-saving insulation. They keep your home cool in summer and warm in winter, saving you up to 32% on energy costs.

While they won’t provide complete soundproofing, cellular blinds do help to muffle noise. Their double-cell construction is thicker than your average roller blind, forming a solid barrier to reduce noise from outside.

Sunway’s cellular blinds are designed for larger windows, handling widths up to 4m with a single blind – eliminating the light gaps usually seen in linked blinds. These are a perfect option for those who want a modern and sleek look while still keeping their home energy efficient.

Motorised blinds

With the rise of home automation, motorisation is an affordable option for blinds and shutters. With a simple remote control or voice activation, you can open your blinds to let in natural light and give your home that fresh feeling. Timers can also be set to close the blinds during the hottest part of the day, deterring would-be burglars and protecting your valuable furnishings from damaging UV rays.

With their sleek lines, motorised blinds offer a modern look that fits with today’s interior design trends. They also eliminate cords and chains, making them safer for children. For added flexibility, they can be integrated into a home automation system, opening and closing blinds at the same time as switching on the heating, for example. With an extensive range of colours and styles available, motorised blinds are a stylish and convenient choice for any home.