#north wants to commit acts of violence

[einradi]

Simon trying to diffuse North’s anger over X situation

Simon: “Go on. Be angry in front of him. I dare you!”

Connor:

North:

Connor: … /headtilt with PuppyEyes.exe

North: “FUCK!”

[gatheringbones]

[“In his extended study, Viet Cong, published in 1966, Pike went to some length to show that the success of the Viet Cong came not so much from their use of violence and terror (as many Americans assumed) but from their organizational methods. By 1970 he had given the subject a new emphasis. “Terror,” he said, “is an essential ingredient of nearly all [the Viet Cong's] programs.” And he went ahead to show his own colors:

A frank word is required here about “terror” on the other side, by the Government and Allied forces fighting in Viet-Nam. No one with any experience in Vietnam denies that troops, police and others commanding physical power, have committed excesses that are, by our working definition, acts of terror.… But there is an essential difference in such acts between the two sides, one of outcome or result. To the communist, terror has a utility and is beneficial to his cause, while to the other side the identical act is self-defeating. This is not because one side is made up of heroes and the other of villains. It is because, as noted above, terror is integral in all the communist tactics and programs and communists could not rid themselves of it even if they wanted to. Meanwhile, the other side firmly believes, even though its members do not always behave accordingly, that there is a vested interest in abstaining from such acts.

Interestingly, Pike's “working definition” of terror was the “systematic use of death, pain, fear and anxiety among the population (either civilian or military) for the deliberate purpose of coercing, manipulating, intimidating, punishing or simply frightening the helpless into submission.” And by that definition the entire American bombing policy in Vietnam, North and South, was a strategy of terror. Even within the narrower definition of “terror” as an unconventional, clandestine act of violence — an assassination or a satchel-charge bombing — the Allies had been using terror deliberately for a number of years through professionally trained paramilitary units such as the Special Forces and the Provincial Reconnaissance Units.

As head of the Psychological Warfare section, Pike knew this as well as anyone in Vietnam. Only he, like many Americans who backed the Vietnam War, ascribed the best of motives to the Americans and their allies, while laying all the evil at the door of the enemy. It was the same kind of bad faith and bad conscience that in 1967 inspired all the American rhetoric about “revolutionary development” and “building democracy” in Vietnam. It was the same kind of rhetoric that inspired the unrestricted use of violence upon the Vietnamese.”]

frances fitzgerald, from fire in the lake: the vietnamese and the americans in vietnam, 1972

[fishnapple]

What does it mean when you have venus trine pluto in a natal chart? And having pluto and north node in 8th house?

Hello, Do you have early degree Leo Venus and late degree Scorpio Pluto?

For Pluto in 8H, you can read about it my other post here.

I will talk about North node in 8H in this post.

*Note: it would be easier for me to reply and organise posts if you ask one placement in each ask rather than many in one.

North node in 8th house/ in Scorpio

Personally, I feel North node is a point where we are obsessing over, an aspiration that we are looking towards, but also a fear that we are avoiding. It feels fascinating and holds a great pull over us because deep down, we know we need this energy to expand and grow, but we can feel out of depth and uncomfortable because it's so different from our mode of operation. There's something out of reach about the North node, sometimes we feel like we have finally understood and mastered the traits of the North node, but look closely, we are still acting from our South node. So in a way, we strive to be the North node, by acting with our South node, it's a seesaw energy, we don't completely abandon the South node and embrace the North node, rather, we try to fuse them together. Like the ouroboros, a serpent/dragon eating its own tail.

So North node in 8H and in Scorpio shows you that it's the theme of the 8H and Scorpio that fascinates you deeply, you want to embrace that theme, yet can feel not fully equipped to do it.

Have the desire to go deep into things and people. Want to see the core of everything. Fear/hate being considered superficial.

At the same time, fear falling too deep into everything, because once you go in, you can't go out. It can manifest as surface level of commitment. To fully, truly commit to something/someone is a challenge but also a goal.

Physical pleasure feels hollow without an emotional and spiritual meaning.

Fear of death. Survivor mentality. Want to feel powerful and well prepared for crises. Always on the look out for dangers.

Strong aversion to violence of any kinds.

Loose attachment with material possessions. Tend to be non-materialistic.

Enjoy an ascetic lifestyle.

Fascination with the theme of death and rebirth, of life and growth.

Want to understand the underlying psychology of people rather than just surface interactions.

Suspicious of others' motives.

Like to work behind the scene, in secret, researching, uncovering secrets.

Good at keeping other people's possessions safe, especially secrets and money. People can trust you easily with their possessions.

Tempted by the idea of vengeance, this is the challenge to test your own moral code and principles.

Can be stubborn and too set in one's own convictions.

Want to have a deep connection, a fusion of two people, but at the same time, struggle in sharing yourself with the other person.

Being used to independence, the idea of sharing and asking for help, whether mentally, emotionally, physically or in any other aspects, can be a great horror and fear for you.

Can have psychic ability but sceptical about it, or approach spirituality and metaphysical topics with pragmatism.

Can live a long life. Have great regenerative ability.

[davi-doo]

Zevlor's Helmite Oath

Zevlor was a Hellrider from Elturel and a paladin of Helm - the god of guardians - as you may already knew from the description of his "Hellrider's Pride" gaunlets. As someone who is not familiar with DnD lore, I did some digging to gain insight about the nature of Zevlor's oath and the circumstance around his oathbreaking. Might as well share what I found :)

Helm is a lawful neutral deity, whose principle can be seen as cold and rigid as he favors one's sense of duty and commitment as a protector, guardian and defender above all else. The dogma of Helm's faithfuls can be sum up as follows:

Guard perfectly, attentively, and with forethought; be ever vigilant. Guard what you are ordered to guard, including that on which your charge depends.

CREED OF THE HELMITE FAITH.

I was not surprised to learn Elturel was home to the strongest Helmite Church in the North. With the famous Hellrider as the citywatch and its strict rulings, Elturel is known to be the most efficient, secured and well-policed city in the region. It's natural for Hellrider to be among Helm's faithful, and I can imagine their paladin's oath is to safe-guard the city and its citizen to their last breath.

I'm not sure in BG3 timeline if the tieflings were forcefully evicted from Elturel, or if they left on their own accord to avoid violence and bigotry against their kind. But either case, Zevlor most likely broke his oath for simply leaving Elturel to lead and protect the tiefling refugees.

In principal, the church of Helm is to welcome whomever come seek their protection, even criminals. However, it's also their duty to turn them in to law enforcement if required, and see their trial to proceed fairly. That means, when the tieflings were deemed as a dangerous minority in the eyes of Elturian, Zevlor and fellow Hellrider must abide to the laws determined for them, or resist and face the repercussion:

All true warriors of Elturel were most likely Hellriders. Those who resigned were stripped of their gear, exiled from the city, and named a heretic in the eyes of Helm for abandoning their post.

Taken that Zevlor still had his gaunlets and his sword, I'm convinced he helped the refugee leave the city in secret. He sentimentally kept the gauntlet out of all the parts from his Hellrider plated armour, because you guess what? A silver gauntlet with eye is Helm's holy symbol. This proved he still held onto the Helmite failth, despite being stripped of the God's divine grace for his moral decision. He owned his choice by leaving the rest behind along with his title, but still took it upon himself to be the guardian of his people. That's why when you came along and protected them from the goblin, which allowed them to travel to Baldur's Gate, the Hellrider's Pride became yours. As for Zevlor, it seems to me he was ready to truly rest, which shows in his conversation with Tilly, too.

In Act 2, we see Zevlor seeking to restore his oath and fell victim to the Absolute; this is not the sign of him wanting to taste the glory again, but simply because the journey through Shadowcurse land has proven to be overwhelmingly dangerous. Zevlor might have viewed himself as a liability, not only due of his old age, but also his lack of dark vision despite being a tiefling. I believe whatever the watchful Helm bestowed on paladin Zevlor back in the day must have compensated nicely for his lacks. And ironically, with the innate darkvision that allows for better guard, the tiefling Hellrider were supposed to be valuable members in their unit. Until Elturian decided those with infernal heritage are somehow a threat to their hypervigilant society.

[likealittleheartbeat]

Why in the first season do we have the motif of Zuko stealing Katara’s mother’s betrothal necklace? Some point to a romantic subtext being read into this that, they argue, later gets ignored in order to prop up a problematic relationship for Katara with Aang, the protagonist. But if there’s subtext to be read in the theft of a betrothal token from a subjugated female by a male imperial representative, however, it’s the subtext of rape.

Why is it that it’s the women in the southern water tribe are gone? Ostensibly because they were the benders—but there’s a darker undertone, especially when we consider the clearly made analogy to indigenous peoples in North America, where even to this day native women are 2 times more likely to experience rape than those from other races. The fact that the necklace was her mother’s illustrates this legacy and connection, pointing us back to the original invasion of the tribe by the Fire nation, the attack on Katara’s mother by a single soldier inside their home (allowed in in order to protect Katara) and how Zuko’s actions at the beginning of the series echo it. This is not an auspicious place to begin a relationship if that’s what the writers were planning. Traditional enemies-to-lovers arcs usually involve prejudice but usually tied to pride, less so that kind of sexual violence. Despite Romeo and Juliet coming from warring families, it’s never implied that Romeo committed war crimes in the first act, especially not against the girl who falls for him, so we should perhaps be clued in that something different is going on in Katara and Zuko’s dynamic.

The intense rage, fear, and defense Katara puts up against Zuko in the finale of the first season (right after she has had to face the misogyny among her own people) is evocative of her response to his assaults throughout the first season. If this was not enough, we then have the rape of the moon spirit and the sacrifice of Yue for her people happening in the background, all pointing us back to the gendered violence of the empire Katara’s living under and fighting against. Her battle is not passionate because she secretly loves Zuko. She is doing everything within her power to protect herself and the spirit (literally the Avatar and figuratively within herself) that she has kept kindled despite the violent attempts to wipe it out—Zuko eventually prevails and steals a precious thing from her again…

When Katara and Zuko are imprisoned together during “The Crossroads of Destiny,” often seen as the peak of their romantic tension, they discuss their mothers, and Katara learns about the loss of Zuko’s mother (which we’re encouraged by the symbolism in the first season to read through the symbolic lens of gendered abuse and sexual violence, only now it’s domestic and internal rather than imperial). Zuko’s shift to a pitiable victim of abuse has softened his monstrous face for us, and the same happens to Katara in the catacombs, to the point where she’s willing to share a spiritual token with him.

It’s remarkable in the scene that, after being interrupted, there’s an effort made to remind the audience of Aang and Zuko’s continued antagonism—they glare at each other despite being in the embrace of the person who cares most about them in the world. And in the next scene, it’s revealed that Katara and Zuko’s reconciliation is actually not enough to transform Zuko’s loyalties. His desires for Aang and the redemption he can offer are too great.

In fact, throughout this couple of scenes, Zuko shows no interest in possessing or learning about Katara. She spouts off her grievances without his request, and then he shares his own loss only in defense to Katara's accusations and self-recognition in her stories, not as consolations for her pain. And Katara is moved by his vulnerability because she is so eager to see more evil within imperial power. She wants to hear the truth about how even those within it are injured. With all the feminine fantasy of being able to fix the behavior that toxic masculinity has induced, she suggests her spirit water might alleviate the scar Zuko bears--no forethought about preserving it for her own needs. Zuko doesn’t even request or accept the spirit water she offers him. It's all Katara. You'll be hard pressed to find a moment where Zuko expresses desire for Katara in this scene, a definite difference from his sexual aggression towards her in the first season. We as an audience are actually moved by his lack of desire her and what she has to offer because Katara is finally free from his predation (though it was only his initial violence that makes this neutral kind of freedom feel heartening).

The eventual gesture of Katara healing Zuko in “Sozin’s Comet” is free of his desire as well, unless you count the desire to protect a non-combatant, which has been Zuko’s reoccurring theme throughout the series, Katara or no (when he chooses the safety of his crew in "the storm," his advocacy for the lives of the fire nation soldiers that led him to banishment, etc.). The suggestion of rape arises here again with the penetrative nature of lightning, but the show has really complicated it’s gender dynamics by having Azula direct it, pointing to imperialism as the core concern rather than a simplified feminist reading. When Katara heals him, it's after she's cared for herself and defeated Azula now, and the words exchanged are "thank you," words of cordiality and comradery. They touch, but they are touches of equal counterparts rather than romance.

Reading romance into the simple refusal to commit colonial rape seems like a fairly low bar. This is neither what Katara nor Zuko are seeking out over the expanse of the series. They are looking for the transformative hope, action, and balance that the Avatar embodies, which, if anything allows them to stop fixating on each other and the dynamic of feminine colonized victim and masculine imperial patriarch that their world would have them locked into forever.

Aang does not go back in time to fix it all, but he brings an acceptance of reality that still allows for change. And this applies to the emotional states for the characters. Finding balance. Their griefs are not gone but not totalizing, either. They don't have to obsess or ruminate on it, or on the person who embodies the "problem" for them. The balance that the Avatar brings (and the fantasy that the show concludes with) is not a world in which the violence of colonialism never occurred but a world in which emotional release is possible from the intensifying dynamics colonialism forces its subjects into to sustain itself.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Dean Obeidallah at The Dean's Report:

You are at home on Saturday with your eight-month pregnant wife only to be startled by a loud knock on the door. The people behind the door aggressively identify themselves as federal officers. Your mind immediately races to your involvement in peaceful protests that the current regime wants to silence. The government agents enter your apartment, declaring that your student visa has been canceled. When you reply that you have been granted permanent legal status in the country, the agents inform you that the regime has cancelled that as well. When your pregnant wife asks the agents if you have been charged with crimes, they tell her to shut up or she will be arrested as well--despite the fact she is a citizen. From there, you are swept away to a clandestine government facility. When your wife and lawyer visit the facility that the regime told them you are being held at, you are not there. Instead, the regime has imprisoned you in another location across the country. Did that happen in Vladimir Putin’s Russia? North Korea or China? No. It happened Saturday in New York City to Mahmoud Khalil, a recent graduate student at Columbia University and his eight month pregnant wife. Khalil was not charged with any crimes—nor has he in the past.

But the regime—in this case the Trump regime—ordered Khalil arrested and are working to strip him of his green card because he dared to champion a cause they very much oppose: The humanity of Palestinian Christians and Muslims. That is no exaggeration. Khalil has not committed acts of violence, incited a Jan. 6 type attack on a government building nor provided material support to those who waged such an attack. If he had, he would’ve been charged with crimes long ago. Khalil was arrested solely for being one of the leaders of the pro-Palestinian protests last year at Columbia University. In fact, Homeland Security spokeswoman Tricia McLaughlin told us that noting Khalil’s arrest was “in support of President Trump’s executive orders prohibiting anti-Semitism.” That means if you engage in what Trump and his right regime has dubbed as “anti-Semitism,” you can be arrested and deported even if you have a green card. Even more alarming was that the specific conduct cited by the DHS as the basis for the arrest sounds like something Joseph Stalin would’ve used as a fabricated basis to imprison critics. The DHS spokesperson said, Khalil had “led activities aligned to Hamas.”

What is “aligned to Hamas”? Hamas called for humanitarian relief to be allowed into Gaza to feed the women and children being starved by Netanyahu’s blockade. Is a person “aligned to Hamas” and subject to arrest for repeating that very goal? Are the Jewish students who bravely led some of the pro-Palestinian protests on various campuses also “aligned to Hamas” for objecting to Benjamin Netanyahu’s collective punishment of two million Palestinians?! The Trump regime’s Secretary of State Marco Rubio gleefully proclaimed on Twitter after the arrest, “We will be revoking the visas and/or green cards of Hamas supporters in America so they can be deported.” Did Rubio provide concrete evidence of that very serious charge? Nope. And on Monday, Trump took a victory lap for the arrest writing on social media, "Following my previously signed Executive Orders, ICE proudly apprehended and detained Mahmoud Khalil, a Radical Foreign Pro-Hamas Student on the campus of Columbia University. This is the first arrest of many to come.” Of course, Trump provides no evidence to back up this very serious charge but then again this is the same convicted felon who repeatedly lied that the 2020 election was stolen and incited the Jan. 6 terrorist attack on our Capitol.

[...] If you think Trump will stop with just punishing people with student visas or green cards who engage in speech he opposes, you have not been paying attention. We are just 50 days into the Trump regime and he already has launched a relentless, multi-front war on free speech. It began with Trump banning the Associated Press from White House briefings for refusing to refer to the Gulf of Mexico as the “Gulf of America” as Trump has demanded. Then last month-as I detailed in an article—Trump’s FCC chair, the blindly loyal Brendan Carr, targeted liberal media outlets PBS and NPR for investigations. Carr then reinstated complaints/investigations against CBS and NBC—brought by right wing groups—but not one against Fox News filed by a liberal organization. FCC commissioner Anna Gomez—a Democratic appointee—slammed Carr’s actions, saying, this is “designed to instill fear in broadcast stations and influence a network’s editorial decisions.”

The detaining of Mahmoud Khalil by Tyrant 47’s administration is a calamitous disgrace.

See Also:

Let's Address This (Qasim Rashid): ICE Abducts & Disappears US Green Card Holder Mahmoud Khalil

Wonkette: ICE Yanking Green Card Holders Out Of Their Houses For Wrongthink Now

Dispatches From A Collapsing State (Jared Yates Sexton): So It Begins: The Disappearing of Mahmoud Khalil and Authoritarian Capture

[rafeandonlyrafe]

apocalypse

words: 300

warnings: violence, alien invasion lol, mentions of death including parental death

you stomp out your fire before kicking leaves over it, not wanting to leave any trace. you grab your pack off the ground, grunting quietly as you sling it over your shoulder. it’s so fucking heavy, but everything in it is precious. every thing is precious, ever since they came, all material goods are precious. you try not to think about it, especially since it’s been almost a month since you saw the last thing. 

you’re not sure if there’s a technical name for them. they’re so beyond anything you know, anything earthly, that giving any name to them seems wrong. aliens, you suppose. they did come from the sky. large creatures, monsters, that ran on four legs, teeth as sharp knives, bodies moving in an almost mechanical way. they had their weaknesses, and you have found the best way to exploit that. they’ve got terrible senses. sight, hearing, smell, all of it is shit. they’re easy enough to avoid, but deadly when they get close enough. the main issue was the sheer number of them.

just keep your distance, you remind yourself. it’s why you’re out in the woods. you hope they’ll keep to the cities. it would make sense. you thought at first when they came that you’d be safe. they wouldn’t even get onto your island, and you were right, for a while. life in the outer banks wasn’t normal though, even as they began to attack only the big cities. everyone knew they would spread quickly, and chaos started before they even moved out of new york city.

you swallow hard, trying not to think about what happened. you think of your family. kooks. fucking kooks. they went crazy, acting like an alien invasion meant it was the purge. your family owned a grocery store, a small one that had been in the family for generations. it meant you had supplies, but it also made you a target. you force the thought out of your mind, but you still see it every time you close your eyes, the blood and bodies littering the store. you left that day, not even taking a single thing with you, just needing to be gone. they came the next day. you watched from high ground as they tore through the town, only reacting to the loudest screams and most movement. you studied them, committing as much as you could to memory, before turning your back to that world. it was over then.

it’s been almost an entire year now. you’ve considered going back. you’ve never gone far from the outer banks, but you’ve also never stopped moving. you know you’re going in slow circles, but you can’t bring yourself to do anything different, and you don’t need to yet. there’s plenty of food in this area, and the winters don’t deplete your resources as much like they would if you headed north. and south is just ocean, something you don’t want to see. too many memories. the sound of your sister laughing as she jumped in the waves, of your mother laying on the beach, whatever book she’s currently reading in her hand. 

you curse yourself for getting lost in your memories as you hear a twig snap. you quickly move to a tree to climb, trying to keep your movements light. the biggest risk wasn’t even the monsters, just like before in kildare, it was other people. other people killed your family and you are not going to let yourself fall to the same fate. you’d rather stare down the aliens teeth than let another human take you out. it was all just so wrong and messy.

your breath catches when the man creeping through the trees is familiar. his hair is longer now, falling over his forehead in dark blonde strands. you are moving before you can think over the consequences. you were never friends, theres no saying how he’ll welcome you, but he’s someone. someone you know. “rafe.” it feels weird to speak. you haven’t done it in weeks.

his head snaps up at his name, eyes almost bulging out of his head when he realizes who is standing in front of him. “y/n?” he asks, relief spreading over his features. you nod and smile. you’re not sure why you do it, but you get closer. rafe steps in as well, pulling you into a hug. it’s awkward with the amount of gear you’ve both got, but you don’t care, it’s human contact, it’s good human contact.

“you’re alive.” you state the obvious, and rafe nods. “would never let those fuckers take me out.”

you should have known rafe was too strong willed to die. he’s tough, but he’s more than that, he’s too stubborn to let an alien take him out. you wouldn’t be surprised if he had killed a few himself. to still be alive you practically had to.

“what are you doing here? wheres your base?” you ask. theres no way he’s been in this area long, you couldn’t have been missing him this whole time.

“i’m on the move, actually.” rafe says, clearing his throat. “retaking tanneyhill.”

you smile at that, and the action makes your cheeks hurt. you can’t remember the last time you’ve made that expression. “you and what army?” 

rafe shrugs, also grinning. “it’s my home. not going to let anyone drive me out.”

“that’s… brave.” you say honestly. all of the tension is gone from the times before they came. it was always kooks vs pogues, but now, there were just pogues. rafes status was the same as yours. there was nothing for you to be afraid or apprehensive of anymore. 

“come with me.” rafe says. you take a step back. back to outer banks. the thought rolls through your head. “at least to the edge of town.” 

you nod, not able to find words. it’s getting dark anyways, so you need to make camp soon. you’ll sleep on it and reevaluate in the morning when you don’t have the excitement of finally having another friendly human around you again.

“i’ve been sleeping in a nearby cave the past couple nights.” you tell rafe, making sure to keep your voice hushed. “there’s room for two.”

“sure beats just sleeping under the stars knowing i could get my head bit off at any minute.” it’s an attempt at a joke, but you can’t bring yourself to laugh, or even smile. it wasn’t so long ago that you woke up to a huffing sound, sitting up to realize one of those… things was almost on top of you. you grabbed the blade you keep under your pillow and ended it, only because it hadn’t yet realized you were there. you know you wouldn’t get so lucky next time.

you’re quiet the rest of the walk, rafe following in your footsteps quietly. you know exactly where to walk to keep your steps near silent. you get to the cave, pulling the branches out of the way that mask it’s entrance. it’s a tight squeeze to get in. you have to take your pack off and set it inside first. rafe does the same, eyebrows rising as he takes in how large the cave really is, looking up to see the ceiling is a few feet over his head. there’s a few openings in it, letting in the dying sunlight.

it’s an amazing find, really lucky, which is why you’ve stayed in this once place for so long. and just when you began itching to get moving again, here is rafe, presenting you with an opportunity. 

rafe begins to unpack, getting his bedroll out and setting it near yours. it’s the only even spot in the flooring, but your cheeks still heat at the thought of sleeping so close to him.

“here, i have some berries stocked up.” you grab the jar off the floor, opening it and shaking a few into rafes extended hand.

you don’t talk much as you eat. as soon as you stop moving, exhaustion takes over you. you’re thankful that you get so tired, knowing laying down and letting your thoughts run free is not something you want to do. you lay down after you eat, rafe joining you. 

“thanks.” he whispers, noticing that just a bit of moonlight is illuminating the cave.

“no problem.” you say, turning on your side to face him. “i’m glad you’re alive.” if you would have thought about rafe yesterday you would have said you didn’t care if he was alive or dead, but it’s different having him here, right next to you.

“i’m glad you’re alive too.” rafe says, reaching out and squeezing your hand. you squeeze back, palm tingling, and you’re not sure if it’s because of rafe, or because it’s human contact. your eyes flutter closed and you fall asleep like that, hands together.

but it’s not how you wake up. you’re so warm, heat pressing against your front. you blink your eyes opening, realizing that at some point in the night you’ve abandoned your sleeping bag and have joined rafe on his bedroll. you go to move away, but rafes arm is trapping you. he lets out a grumble in his sleep at your attempting to move, squeezing you even tighter to him.

you wait for the blush to subside before you tap rafe. “wake up.” you say softly, unable to resist the urge to stroke your thumb over his cheek. rafes eyes flutter open as you pull your hand away.

“sorry.” rafe mumbles, removing his hand from your back to rub over his face. you don’t speak as you roll away, not telling rafe where you’re going as you head out of the cave to get a breath of fresh air as well as do your business. you’re about to remove the brush to get back inside when you hear a chuffing noise. you know exactly what it is, but you wait until the thing comes into view to confirm it, and you’re glad you wait, because it’s not one, but three.

you rush inside the cave, grabbing your blade. “three of them.” is all you say to rafe to get him moving. the entrance isn’t big enough for them to get in, so you work on packing up in case you need to make a quick move. rafe peaks out the entrance, letting out a quiet curse.

“as soon as they’re gone, we’ve got to move.” you whisper. rafe nods, getting his stuff ready as well. you may be safe in this cave, but you’ve only got a couple berries left, and your water bottle is almost empty. as much as you like this location, it’s time to move, because if three are around, theres bound to be more. they’re not pack animals per say, but they tend to stay in groups when they are on move.

you wait hours, sitting there silently, until the sun is high in the sky. you know you have to use it to your advantage, so you share the rest of the berries with rafe and set off, keeping your head on a swivel. you head towards the outer banks, rafe by your side. you want to tell him again, how thankful you are that he’s alive, but you don’t know how long you’ll be able to stick by his side, no matter how bad you want to.

you spend the whole day walking, and you know that you’re only a few more hours from getting where you want to be, but you convince rafe to stop and set up a small camp. it’s not safe to continue at night, especially with the leaves still on the trees, not letting enough light to the forest floor.

you set up your bedrolls side to side, and again wake up in the morning with your limbs tangled together, this time rafe moving towards you. you close your eyes and let yourself enjoy the warm embrace as the sun rises, sending a warm orange glow over everything. rafe wakes up a few minutes later, squeezing you tightly before getting up. you don’t speak about it as you start to walk again.

you stop by a clean looking river and get some drinking water, both filling up your bottles, knowing you’ll have to boil it later but don’t want to stop. time seems to fly, and before you know it you’re walking down the street of the one place you swore you wouldn’t come back. thankfully, rafes house is nowhere near your familys shop, yet you still feel the tug.

“the fence is still intact.” rafe notes as you approach. he swings the gate open, eyes sweeping over the yard. a lot of the houses have damage, but he’s right, everything looks like it’s still in good shape. you suppose it’s a testament to the older houses being built better, after all this house has gone through hundreds of tropical storms or hurricanes. 

“lets do a quick sweep before we get too excited.” you tell rafe. he gives a curt nod, but you can still see the excitement in his eyes. you stick together, going through every room in the lower floor before heading up the stairs. it’s obviously picked through, but a lot of the important things remain untouched. you want to cry at the fact that there’s still mattresses on the beds. it’s been so long since you’ve slept properly on a bed.

you’re about to head downstairs when you hear nails scratching against the hardwood. your eyes widen and briefly meet rafes before you both look over the railing, realizing one of the aliens must have snuck in after you, and was now heading right towards the stairs.

“rafe.” you whisper-scream. 

“get in the bedroom. close the door.” rafe says, shoving you away.

“no, what?” you protest, knowing you can help.

“please, y/n, i lost… everyone.” his voice breaks, eyes shining. “i can’t lose you too, not when i just got you.”

you frown at his words, but nod, heading towards the bedroom and closing the door. you take your pack off, grabbing your blade. the second you hear rafe in any sort of trouble you’re coming out. 

you hear a commotion, but can’t make much out, until you hear rafe mutter a curse. you throw open the door, seeing rafe clutching his arm, but the monster there on the ground, dead.

“rafe!” you rush to him. “into the bathroom, quickly.” you say, hoping to find some sort of towel to wrap around the wound, maybe if you’re lucky something to stave off infection.

“hey.” rafe stops. “we have to go shut the gate first.” 

you shake your head no. “you’re bleeding, we take care of you first then we can do whatever else.” rafe sighs, but nods, letting you lead him into the spacious bathroom, but it feels small when you close the door behind you. it’s been almost a year since you’ve been inside a house, and its near suffocating being trapped. you quickly scrounge through the cabinets, shocked to find so much stuff. you realize the camerons probably stayed as long as they could, meaning most of the looting was done by the time the house was vacant.

you find some hydrogen peroxide and a hand towel, deciding it will work for now. you turn back to rafe, who has now taken his shirt off. your breath catches in your throat, noting not just his defined muscles but also the various scars littered along his torso. some were clearly deep, other little scratches, maybe from a thorn.

you shake the fuzzy feeling out of your head and squirt a little bit of the peroxide onto a towel, not wanting to waste such a precious resource. you press it to the wound, and rafe doesn’t even flinch at the sting. as you clean it up, you realize it’s not bad at all. rafe would likely recover quickly, especially now that you can control any potential infection somewhat.

you rip the sleeve off his shirt. it’s no good anymore anyways, and tighten it around his wound.

“you make a good nurse.” rafe says, admiring your quick and efficient work. 

“no formal training, but i did watch greys anatomy before.” you laugh, the sound echoing around you. 

rafe smiles at you, tucking a strand of hair out of your face. “stay with me?” rafe asks, reaching down to squeeze your hand. “we can fortify this place. put wiring along the top of the fence. plant, make a whole garden. fish for our food. we can live as comfortably as possible, together.”

you nod before you can stop yourself. you honestly can’t think of anything better than feeling safe. 

the first couple months are just hard work. you use the prebuilt wall along the property to make it a safe haven against the aliens, even going as far to set some traps. 

you eventually settle into a routine. rafe does most of the fishing, you do all of the gardening, and then you fall asleep in the same bed every night. it becomes comfortable. you have sightings of the monsters, but only a couple pose any threat, and you’re always able to retreat back into tanneyhill until they leave the town. you don’t see any other people, probably because no one wants to be trapped on an island, potentially stranded.

you decide to head into town, rafe has been pushing you that it would be smart to check for supplies, and he’s right, but your families shop is in town and you don’t know how you’ll cope seeing it, but you eventually agree you do need to reup your supplies, especially clean, unripped clothing. 

rafe takes a gun he found still in the safe at tanneyhill as you walk together down the street. it feels freeing to be out without a pack, knowing that you have someplace safe to return to. 

you follow rafe, until you get there, and your steps falter. rafe notices immediately as you turn to face the place you grew up in, running down the aisles with your sister, being scolded by your father when you bump the shelves and knock merchandise off. part of you wants to go inside, be surrounded by those memories, but you know what else lies inside those doors.

“hey, what’s wrong?” rafes voice sounds far away, even as hes right next to you.

you sink to your knees, unable to even stand, tears flowing down your face. rafe follows you to the ground, hand cupping your face, other arm pulling you into him.

“hey, hey, i got you.” rafe says, kissing your head. “i got you. it’s okay.”

he lets you cry until theres nothing left in you. the year of pent up emotions, holding everything in because you had no choice. there was no time for breakdowns in the constant struggle to survive, but rafe has helped give you safety, and in that, freedom.

“thank you.” you look up at him, knowing you would still be out there in those woods if it wasn’t for him. you lean in, pressing your lips against rafes. he hesitates for a moment and then returns the kiss, pulling you somehow even closer into him. 

“thank you.” rafe presses his forehead against yours. “i was lost before we found each other.” he pecks a kiss to your lips. “you saved me in ways you don’t even know. i wasn’t coming back to outer banks to retake tanneyhill, i was coming back to give up.” rafe admits.

you can’t help the gasp that you let out. rafe giving up? he must have been in a truly terrible place. you imagine seeing his entire family killed did that to him. you know exactly what it’s like.

“i love you.” you tell rafe, needing him to hear the words you’ve been holding back for almost a month now. 

“i love you.” rafe kisses you deeply again. “i love you.”

[mae-i-scribble]

Seeing that one reblog of yours about the manhwa I Became The Male Lead's Adopted Daughter really intrigued me! Is it a good one? 👀

Funny story about that, after your reblog brought the post to my attention again and after talking with a friend on discord about stories that subvert tropes I just went back and reread that entire manhwa up to the end of season 2 so this is great timing XD. Im summary: It's absolutely worth your time if you're a fan of father/isekaied daughter fantasy, if you're an isekai manhwa fan in general, or if you just want a well made fantasy father daughter story. Its fantastical concepts are handled with a grounded maturity that most stories in the same genre just don't manage to pull off because it takes the time to truly flesh out its characters as human being first and any tropes last.

The long story is below the cut, I'll be discussing vague spoilers throughout seasons 1 and 2. (side note, im using the official TL names for this bc i like em better)

I Became the Male Lead's daughter has a lot going for it, first of which being Pelliot, the cold duke of the north who adopts Lionia from the orphanage. Most manhwa of this nature have the isekaied person be our main pov with brief glimpses into the parent's perspective, usually done more for plots sake or to comment on how strange the isekaied child is acting. Pelliot shares the protagonist spotlight with Lionia because this story is about both of them concurrently- in fact, we don't even get a look int Lionia's head to find out she's been isekaied until chapter 8(i think, either way its after chapter 5). Before that we get to know her from how Pelliot and the people at the estate see her. Which is such a refreshing take for me, especially when you consider that Pelliot while a stereotypical "violent and competent northern duke who becomes a parent" in theory, is actually played out in a grounded way. The reason he even wanted a child is because he's feeling lonely and he sees how his best friend (yes!! our cold duke has friendships!! and they're super sweet!!) is so happy with 2 children, that he goes about getting a child in the most pragmatic way possible. He is violent and regularly commits war crimes, but he isn't cruel to his staff or his knights as is standard fair for these archetypes. (Can't say the manhwa avoids classist tropes, but such is the way when you have noble protagonists and don't want to make them look complicit in a degrading class system but overall things are handled well enough in that regard). Pelliot, in his fatherhood, also avoids falling into trope traps yet again by being a very believable first time parent. He struggles to adjust to Lionia's emotional needs but is learning, he goes to his knights for advice, he's studying Lionia and trying to make sure she gets a proper childhood and does his best to protect her from further exposure to violence beyond what happens with the abusive orphanage staff. They have a believable banter and play off each other to a scary degree, and while he loves her and worries for her he isn't an overbearing protective trope either. I feel like this is already too long but like. He's such a cool protag to have in a genre that tends to have very narrow and singular dynamics of parent/child relationships. And this isn't even talking about the other relationships we see him have with his peers which are just as good.

Moving onto our other protagonist, Lionia, the post made by @living-as-the-enemy-prince HERE (which clearly you have read but in case other curious souls want to look at it) sums a large part of what makes her work. This is a story that fully realizes its concept to the most effective degree. And I love in turn the story addresses the trauma that comes with being reincarnated- not only from a "i miss my home and family and friends" but from the inherent trauma of being an adult only to one day become a child. Lionia didn't get a chance to rest, she was thrown into a life of abuse, all her agency stolen from her, forced to look after the other orphans because she was the only one who could thus she felt responsible. That sort of disruptive event isn't something that can be brushed off, and it shows in the way Lionia is deeply insecure about her relationship to Pelliot. In this way their dynamic is made equivalent from both sides- in many stories its almost one sided, with the parent figuring out this relationship naturally and the isekaied child playing things 'for the story' and only recognizing the relationship theyve built later (thank you wmmap for helping solidify that -_-). It's truly so well thought out and every aspect of the central relationship feels so natural.

As for the story at large, I'm very excited to see what the plot has in store. As of season 2 of the manhwa, we're only just starting to kick things off plot wise, up until now its been far more concerned with relationship building and giving us a foundation on these characters. But things are definitely cooking now that we've heard mention Baria- the protagonist of the novel Lionia read in her past life (I could probably write another blurb about how well that is being handled but this post is so long already so). On that note though, don't be worried about that "oh but i have to follow the original plot against all common sense and reason" trope bc that doesn't matter at all here. Lionia has her concerns when it comes to the story, some of her insecurities stem from the fact that Pelliot never had a daughter in it, mentioned or otherwise, but at the end of the day she doesn't give a shit, she just wants her dad to have a happy and peaceful life.

Tbh anyone who hasn't read this should absolutely give it a chance bc I haven't even mentioned half the things I find cool about it like all the side characters that I love or the empress storyline that I am eyeing with extreme interest, etc etc

[ladyinred2248]

King of the North, Finan x Reader, Part 3

Warnings: Mature. Violence and Sexual themes. Minors DNI.

“Take me, I’m yours.”

Finan had picked you up in his arms just as the light thunderstorm turned into a torrential downpour. The Danes were satisfied for now with Uhtred’s promise, and Uhtred and Finan commanded the men to make camp, the expectation being to take Haestan to Domnal’s encampment at first light. The Danes would assume Alfred as their hostage in exchange for your freedom, which Uhtred had agreed to in an effort to avoid escalating Finan’s rage, but also to ensure your safety. Uhtred and the others knew that they would have to come up with an alternative scheme, but all Finan could think or care about was having you in his arms once again. Uhtred was silently happy for you both, and instead of insisting on conversation with Finan about what to do next, he let Finan have his way with you as he watched him carry you away happily, a smirk gracing Uhtred’s lips.

Finan carried you inside the tent, setting you down on the furs. He immediately grappled at your dress roughly, and you were surprised at his aggressive touch until you realized he was merely searching your body for injuries in an anxious state. You grabbed his face to steady him, shaking him a bit until he snapped out of it and looked into your eyes.

“Finan… I am alright, my love,” you said with a sweet smile, pressing your forehead to his, “I am here.”

Finan took a deep breath and wrapped his arms around you once more, returning your smile with a sweet grin as he looked into your eyes, “You’re here.”

You ran your fingers through his slightly damp hair, curling them around his neck to pull him into a searing kiss. When you noticed Finan start to tremble, you weren’t sure if it was because of your touch or the freezing cold you had both started to endure from your wet clothing. You stood from the furs to remove the damp, heavy cloth from your body as Finan gazed at you longingly, a slight sadness in his eyes and his anxiety persisting as he continued to scan your body for bruises or cuts. You witnessed him relax when he found nothing, running his battle calloused hands softly over your skin and still searching to no avail. You licked your lips and smiled at him as he began to take off his arm bands, then moving on to the laces of his armor as you stood bare before him, keeping your gaze locked on each other. He was now distracted by his lust for you, blinking hard a few times and shaking his head to bring himself back to reality. He grabbed a cloak to wrap you in to shield you from the slightly chill, humid night air.

“I hear that your ambition has exceeded you,” You said softly, searching his eyes for the truth you already knew. You pulled the cloak tightly around your shoulders, taking a seat on the furs.

Finan nodded, pulling armor off from around his torso. “My only ambition was for the woman I love so dearly,” he whispered, “And now… everything has fallen apart.”

You shook your head, your brows furrowing as you looked into his eyes. “This is not your fault, Finan.”

You had no idea what else to say. It wasn’t his fault, but punishment would inevitably be bestowed upon him if he stayed in Wessex. You had no idea of the details of the siege, but in your heart you knew it had to have been incredibly violent, worthy of a mark in Alfred’s chronicle and an act that would require revenge.

Finan chuckled, somewhat darkly. “Oh, but it is… I am a dead man now.”

You stood from the furs to grab his arms, your eyes wide as your mind drifted to Finan’s fate as his own mind had, “I will never lose you. We will find a way.”

You loved him so intensely, an unwavering desire that engulfed your very being. He was a cold-blooded warrior who had now commited extremely violent acts to the innocent people of Winchester, who held no hesitation in killing a man nor dethroning a King. No mercy. You couldn’t deny the fact that it made you want him even more, to know the lengths he would go to show you his undying love, to preserve your family and your honor.

You gave him a few sweet pecks on the lips, the intensity building in them before helping to pull his tunic off from over his shoulders. You brought your hands to trace over his bare chest and abdomen softly, and the heat rose in your cheeks as you began to feel slightly bashful and meek under his tall, muscular presence. His dark eyes lingering on yours made your knees feel weak, and you suddenly laid a grip on his hips, then slipped your fingers intently into the band of his trousers as he took his own fingers to the laces.

Finan felt his cheeks and chest rise with heat, suddenly taking your hands away from his waist to hold them in his before speaking to you softly, gazing longingly into your eyes. “I will never part from ya again. I will always protect you. Even if it means we have to journey far away from here,” he rubbed his lips together, his eyes deep with emotion as his mind shifted and his voice shook, “We must go. We…w-we need to leave. We need to leave now.”

You grabbed his arms to pull him closer to you before cupping his face in your hands as you searched his eyes and witnessed the anxiety coming across his features once more, his breaths becoming ragged as you comforted him, “My darling, everything will be alright. I swear it… breathe, my love, breathe…” 

Finan took a deep breath in through his nose before taking your hands in his again and kissing your palms, nodding lightly to you as he did so. You took a hand to his cheek once more, begging his attention.

“I vow to protect you, as you have done for me. I swear it,” you said softly as you closed the distance between you, allowing Finan to feel your warm breath on his lips and bringing one of his hands up to palm at your breast, “Now, take what is yours.”

His dark eyes searched yours for a moment as his touch to your breast became purposeful, then wrapped his other arm around you tightly to pull you close before capturing you in a searing wet kiss. Finan moaned against your lips, his hands running across your body greedily before throwing off your cloak and revealing your bare skin to him again from underneath it. You brought your fingers to the laces of his trousers again, now purposefully unlacing them, and Finan walked you backward toward the furs until he gently pushed you down upon them with a soft chuckle.

Your shyness turned into nervous anticipation when his trousers came off and you admired his body; you knew this man so well and had laid with him countless times by now, but the lust-filled shiver it sent down your spine made your body feel as if it was the first time. Being apart for many days had made you yearn for his touch and your core was throbbing for him, but his overwhelming strength and breath-taking figure seemed to catch you off guard this night.

Finan moved his body on top of you, his rough hands lightly tracing your curves and bestowing firm grasps to sensitive areas as his lips moved to your breasts, teasing at the hard peaks with his tongue and leaving behind wet kisses that extended up into the crease of your neck. You suddenly felt needy and impatient, craving the feeling of him inside of you after so long apart.

You let out a soft moan, rolling your hips up into him and feeling his hard cock press against your core. “Finan, please…”

He rolled his hips down into you in tandem, holding your gaze with half-lidded, blissed out eyes and a slight warmth spread across his cheeks. “What do ya want, darling? Tell me.”

You moaned desperately against his lips as he captured you in another deep kiss, his tongue in your mouth sending heated pulses straight to your core, “I…I need you, please.”

Finan chuckled softly against your lips, still tracing his tongue with yours and then speaking softly to you in his deep brogue, “You want me to take you, mo chailín álainn?”

You nodded insistently with a firm “Yes,” and gasped when Finan took his fingers down to trace your wet core, slowly thrusting two fingers in with a deep groan. “You are so wet for me,” he breathed, curling his long fingers up to stroke the perfect spot, “Ah… fuck, I can’t wait any longer.”

Finan slowly took his fingers away from you and guided his cock to your entrance as you needily rolled your hips up into him, and you felt him slowly thrust into you, a soft moan escaping your lips as you felt the pleasant stretch. He slowly bottomed out inside you before pulling back, letting out a groan as you gripped the hair on the back of his neck tightly.

“There’s my girl,” he breathed, the pace of his thrusts rising slowly, “Fuck, you feel so good.”

You bit your lip as you looked into his eyes, the deep stimulation of his cock already quickening your breaths and bringing a strong warmth deep inside your belly. Finan took one of your legs with his large hand to pull it up to his hip, and your eyes rolled back as you felt his cock thrust deeper. You wanted him just like this, deep inside of you, and suddenly the desire to have his pups overcame you, spurring on your already heightened arousal and allowing you to roll your hips up further to take him as deep as possible. The soft yet deep moans that Finan made for you only increased your desperate desire for him, already in the most compromised position under his body but undoubtedly craving more as you couldn’t get enough of him. Your nails clawed at his back and shoulders as Finan groaned at the feeling of your core throbbing and tightening around him, nearing your peak and moaning his name. The grip you had on his cock made Finan’s hips stutter, the overwhelming sensation bringing him closer to the edge.

“Finan,” you moaned, biting your lip and gasping for air, “I… I’m close, please,” you begged, urging him to keep the same deep stroke and pace as his cock traced over the perfect spot, over and over.

Finan smirked at you, then parted his lips with a soft moan, hardly able to hold back his own orgasm, “Yes darling,” he breathed, “Give it to me… that’s it.”

Your peak crashed around you hard, your core throbbing and pulsating around his length for several seconds as the pleasure relentlessly ravaged your body, panting and moaning into the crease of Finan’s neck. He pulled you tightly into his body as he let out a curse and deep moan, his cock twitching inside of you as he came mere seconds after you, allowing you to feel his abdominals quiver and his legs shake at his strong orgasm. 

“I love you,” Finan rasped in between heavy breaths, holding you closely as he kissed your neck, breathing in your sweet scent and humming as you returned the vow of love to him. You relaxed into a sweet bliss filled state until Finan lifted you and turned you on to your stomach effortlessly, causing you to giggle. You let out a pleasant sigh as he kissed your back, palming at your arse before grabbing your hips and gesturing them up to him. He leaned over you from behind, bringing his mouth to whisper in your ear.

“You thought I was done with you, didn’t ya?” He chuckled, then took the entire length of your hair in one of his large hands, pulling you back slightly as you whimpered at the shiver it sent down your spine. His other hand guided his cock deep inside you again, and a curse left your lips with a deep moan as you gripped the furs beneath you. 

Finan gave you a more intense pace after several moments, and your moans became relentless as he held his grip in your hair and leaned over you to wrap his other hand around your throat, his cock thrusting inside you deeply and stroking you to your peak once again. 

He pushed your back down into the furs, allowing you to lay on your stomach and your cheek down to them as he stroked a piece of your hair behind your ear on the side of your face that he could see. Finan used his legs to separate yours and started fucking you relentlessly, the sound of your hips clashing together growing more apparent as Finan groaned in between rasps of breath, “Are you still going to marry me, my sweet girl?”

“Y-yes,” you whimpered, his thrusts overwhelming your senses and making it difficult to speak.

“Good girl,” he rasped, “Tell me you want me.”

“I want you,” you whispered in ragged breaths, in between your desperate moans.

Your words feeded Finan’s carnal desire, bringing his hands to grip at your skin harshly again as he continued to give you his cock, your soft moans increasing as he took you roughly.

Finan grabbed your hair in his hand again, lifting your head just slightly and bending forward to look at you, “Are ya okay?” He whispered.

“Mhm,” you whimpered, a smile forming across your lips at his attentiveness, “Take me, I’m yours.”

Dusk had been settling on the horizon and Uhtred and his men, minus Finan, sat around the fire in contemplation. Sihtric was leaned over resting on his elbow, while Uhtred had his back against a tree with legs sprawled out. Osferth was sitting upright with his hands intertwined together in front of him. 

“Lord,” Sihtric began to say, with raised eyebrows, “if we trade Alfred to the Danes, we will only implicate ourselves further.”

Uhtred nodded. “I know, Sihtric. We need to come up with a plan.”

Osferth chimed in, “Lord, Finan will be doomed if we don’t find a way to grant him forgiveness.”

Sihtric looked away, his eyes searching the distance, then back to Uhtred, “Should he not be here now to discuss this?”

Uhtred smirked at him, “We will not see him until morning, Sihtric. Allow him some peace.”

Sihtric gave a knowing smirk back to his Lord, then took a deep breath and let out a sigh. 

Back at the encampment, Domnal had been silently scheming without Finan’s presence, now concerned that he had fallen back under Uhtred’s influence. He looked over at Alfred, tied and bound in the distance, wondering if he should slit his throat now to ensure Finan would remain steadfast in his Kingship and in the conquering of Wessex. After all, this would prove to be most beneficial for Scotland. His thoughts drifted further, wondering if there was a course of action he could endeavor in to get rid of the Dane Slayer, the only man remaining who threatened his ambition.

>>> Part 4

Taglist: @gemini-mama @persephones-journey @alexagirlie @whitedarkmoonflower @justanother-sihtricgirlie

@bcon24 @ficnation

[theworldofkree]

From what I’ve seen from the TikToks. Kree will sometimes go on walks with his daughter and sometimes other people will see him and judge him… my question is…. What’s honestly stopping the townspeople from jumping Kree themselves and killing him?.. (if not laurel too if they’re willing to go that far.)

That specific vid was one i made impulsively without truly considering it's impact of the story. I just heard the sound and thought Oh! That would make an interesting video and show that, humans are still against Kree and Clara's relationship.

But ultimately, humans don't necessarily want all harpies dead, rather, they want them out of sight and resort to violence when the harpies refuse to move or actively try to move into human spaces (like migrating north). They're not animals to exterminate, they're people that humans want to keep away from sight and keep from committing assumed "criminal acts" upon them. The reason Kree hides from humans in Clara's village when they first meet isn't because someone will immediately kill him, but because sooner or later, if he sticks around, someone will want him gone so much that they'd be willing to burn his nest, or stop Clara from meeting with him, or blame their poor harvest on him being around. Or, at worst, call harpy hunters to kill him.

Most racists don't kill. They segregate, judge, bully, and blame. The true killing of harpies happens for monetary gain, ie harpy hunters.

[beardedmrbean]

Three brothers in a celebrity real estate family were charged with sex trafficking conspiracy in a case involving "dozens of victims" from Miami Beach to New York, prosecutors said Wednesday.

Twins Oren and Alon Alexander and their elder brother Tal were charged with working together to "repeatedly and violently drug, sexually assault, and rape dozens of victims," according to a federal indictment filed in New York.

They were arrested Wednesday in Miami. The charges come in the wake of a string of lawsuits accusing the brothers of rape and sexual assault.

'Drugged' victims

Damian Williams, the U.S. attorney in Manhattan, said all three brothers had used "force, threats of force, fraud, and coercion" in sexually assaulting women for more than a decade.

"This conduct, as alleged, is heinous," Williams told reporters.

Some of the victims who were drugged found themselves unable to speak or to move, leaving them unable to escape, and were left with partial memories of their assaults, Williams said.

Oren and Alon Alexander were also facing separate sexual battery charges in Miami Beach, according to arrest warrants made public Wednesday afternoon.

"Oren Alexander is innocent," his lawyer, Susan Necheles, told USA TODAY. "The evidence will show that neither he nor his brothers ever committed a crime."

Lawyers for Tal and Alon Alexander could not immediately be reached for comment Wednesday.

Civil lawsuits against the Alexander brothers

The Alexander brothers – telegenic twins Oren and Alon, and their elder brother Tal – have been the subject of several lawsuits by women alleging they were raped and possibly drugged.

Until news broke of the sexual assault allegations, Oren and Alon Alexander were fixtures of the jet set, attending glitzy parties in Miami, New York and partying in the Mediterranean.

Oren and Tal Alexander run the Alexander Team, which boasts of brokering sales worth more than $7 billion in luxury markets including New York, South Florida, and Aspen, Colorado.

“We are glad to hear that there will finally be some measure of accountability for the Alexander brothers and justice for their many victims," the law firm Wigdor LLP, which represents several women who've accused the Alexanders of rape, said in a statement.  "We applaud all the survivors who have had the strength and courage to speak up about their unimaginable experiences after years of pain and suffering.”

Witnesses spoke of 'gang rapes'

In a memo asking a federal judge to deny bail, prosecutors wrote that witnesses and victims told investigators the Alexanders had been raping women since they were in high school.

"Evidence from the investigation, including multiple victim and witness accounts, shows that the Alexander Brothers began engaging in acts of sexual violence, including gang rapes, while still in high school in Miami, Florida," the memo says.

"Each of the victims that the Government has interviewed from this period reported hearing that individuals involved −including Tal Alexander − talked about the assaults at school, boasting about 'running train' on their victims and saying that they wanted to 'do it again.'"

New York Magazine cited witnesses in an August article who said the brothers often spoke of "running a train," slang for the act of gang rape, when they were in school.

In their senior year at Michael M. Krop Senior High School in North Miami, Oren and Alon Alexander's yearbook included a page with the question, “What was your most memorable moment at Krop?”

According to New York Magazine, Oren Alexander replied: “Riding my first ‘choo-choo’ train.”

The twins graduated in 2005.

Eleven years later, as Tal, Oren and Alon Alexander planned a 2016 trip to Tulum, Mexico, with male friends, women flown in for entertainment, and drugs including GHB − considered a "date rape" drug under federal law − the term appeared again in a group chat.

"I don’t want anyone being upset if they don’t run a 10 man train," an unidentified member of the group wrote.

Miami charges

In affidavits, Miami Beach Police detectives accused Alon Alexander in the October 2021 group sexual assault of a woman lured to a luxury apartment on Miami Beach's beachfron Collins Avenue under the pretext of attending a barbeque. Oren Alexander also joined that assault, the victim told Miami Beach Police Det. David Alvarez. An Alexander cousin, Ohad Fisherman, is at large, Dade County prosecutors said.

More than 30 women have alleged they were raped by Oren Alexander, Alon Alexander, or both brothers, according to a lawsuit filed by model Angelica Parker.

Parker charged that she was raped by Alon and Tal Alexander in 2012 while their brother Oren watched. They denied the allegations.

No bail, prosecutors urge

In a letter to U.S. District Judge Valerie Caproni, prosecutors asked that the three brothers be held without bail., citing the nature of the crimes they're accused of, their wealth and close connections to Israel, where extradition to the U.S. can be a "drawn-out" process.

"After relying on their substantial wealth and connections to carry out and conceal their crimes for years, all three defendants now face charges carrying potential sentences in prison of fifteen years to life," assistant U.S. attorneys Kaiya Arroyo and Elizabeth A. Espinosa wrote.

The three brothers "pose an ongoing and significant danger to the community and present a serious risk of flight," the prosecutors said.

[evesaintyves]

this was my submission to @thethreebroomsticksficfest Pride Fest 2023 🌈

The Rougarou

Remus Lupin/Sirius Black | M | 9.7k | After the end of the first war, Remus Lupin seeks some kind of new life in New Orleans. He finds it.

In the mosquito-song of morning, without the din of bass and customers and Order up! from Ish, bad thoughts bubbled up like groundwater from the cracks in the street: the little varnished wood box that held only a finger. Peter's dad ripping up the hymnal.   Stop it, Remus would say to himself.   Autumn drizzle like spit in the graves.   Just stop. Getting in bed, pulling the sheets over his face, steaming in the heat of his own breath.   Too drunk to stand, somehow too drunk even to cry. Two married slots in the ground. The itchy suit he'd borrowed from his father. Two babies fussing in the black pram—craning his neck to see Harry, then shrinking back in shame. The sour look on Lily's sister. The stone look on Dumbledore: how had it happened? How could we let it happen?   He'd try to put himself to sleep, but once he'd started his mind wouldn't let him stop, and sooner or later he'd think about the worst thing, the thing that felt like a crime:   Even in June it must be freezing in the North Sea.

read on AO3

some notes on this fic under the cut

first, i just want to acknowledge that i'm writing about New Orleans as someone who's never lived there, and i apologize unreservedly for anything i got wrong. i love the city and i've spent a lot of time there, but ultimately i'm just a tourist.

folklore

the rougarou is a cryptid in Cajun and Métis folklore, often depicted as a creature with a human body and the head of a dog or a wolf. the name is a cajunization of "loup-garou." the rougarou may be a syncretization of the French loup-garou legend and indigenous concepts of humanlike shapeshifters, like the Wendigo. In some iterations of the Wendigo legend, a person can be cursed with insatiable hunger and greed and cravings for human flesh after committing an act of cannibalism or violence. stories of the rougarou in Louisiana were a cautionary tale for children and sometimes represented a consequence of breaking lent. the rougarou also happens to feature in the Harry Potter universe, which is convenient for me.

the feu-follet is a ghost-light, similar to the will-o'-the-wisp, said to appear in the swamps of the Mississippi delta; traditionally held to be the souls of unbaptized babies

the French Quarter ghosts - years ago in the FQ we used to see real estate signs advertising houses and apartments for sale as Haunted or Not Haunted which i always thought was pretty cool. the ghosts generally aren't representative of any specific historical figures or events, except for one, sort of—i'll let you figure out which if you care to.

locations

Monsieur's is made up, obviously, but most other locations mentioned by name are real and were operating in 1982. Café Lafitte In Exile, Verti Marte, Café du Monde and The Apple Barrel are still around, but Charlene's and Las Pierres (which were actually de facto segregated in the way the fic describes) are now closed.

i made a little map—i'm not an artist, but i enjoy maps, like, a weird amount—of some of the locations in the fic.

New Orleans has been a center of queer culture in the South for a really long time—gay social clubs and carnival krewes have existed there since as early as the 40s, and Café Lafitte, which opened in 1933 (in its current location since 1953) is one of the oldest gay bars in America. i was really excited to find a book on Café Lafitte and its place in New Orleans queer history called In Exile: The History and Lore Surrounding New Orleans Gay Culture and Its Oldest Gay Bar by Frank Perez and Jeffrey Palmquist , two bartenders who worked there in the 80s and 90s. other than the obvious thematic connections in outlaws and exile, Café Lafitte is one of the couple of places that were around back then that i've actually been inside and could hope to describe with some accuracy.

other resources on queer history in New Orleans:

The LGBT+ Archives Project of Louisiana

Last Call NOLA, a queer and trans art & archival collective who host a podcast series on vanishing NOLA gay bars and other queer spaces - episodes 3.2 and 3.3 are about Charlene's and Las Pierres

music

for this fic we're gonna roll with the PoA movie canon that Lupin's a big ol' vinyl dork who likes vaguely-jazzy big band music ok

Will You Love Me Tomorrow by The Shirelles - The Shirelles were a girl group in the late 50s and early 60s - i imagine Ish, somewhere in her 40s in this story, might have listened to them as a teenager. they were an early example of an all-Black band who found success with white audiences during the civil rights era, and they cultivated a "naive schoolgirl" sound and aesthetic that helped them get away with some relatively edgy-for-the-time sexual subtext in their songs. Will You Love Me Tomorrow was banned from radio in parts of the US - the lyrics address a lover before a tryst: tonight the light of love is in your eyes/but will you love me tomorrow?

The Stargazers - a UK pop group from the mid-50s. i'll be honest, this choice was mainly based on that name and some irresistibly appropriate song titles, but here's my excuse: their arrangements are heavy on tinkling piano and brass, and they collaborated with jazz-influenced British bandleader Syd Dean, so we're gonna go with the headcanon that young Remus got a taste for jazz through the pop groups of Hope's girlhood, many of which were covering (or just ripping off) American jazz & R&B artists at the time.

Junco Player by James Booker - "the Bayou Maharaja." A New Orleans-born jazz and R&B pianist, who led the house band at the Maple Leaf Bar in Carrollton (across town from where Lupin lives in this story) in the late 70s and early 80s. He was better known in Europe than in the US during the time Lupin would have been in his late teens, so if Lupin was a big jazz nerd he might have heard of him. Booker was openly gay and sometimes described as the "Black Liberace" due to his flamboyant style; he was also troubled and chronically ill, having been hit by an ambulance as a child and left with one working eye, a limp, chronic pain and a morphine addiction. He died shortly after the timeline of this fic.

image from the Times-Picayune archives, photographer uncredited

Heart of Glass by Blondie - this is honestly just how it happened in the scene in my head, and it's obviously kind of on-the-nose, but I really think some disco-y pop, at that moment, would feel like a sign to Lupin that the city isn't going to give him what he wants and he doesn't belong there.

thanks for reading!

[myel-stress-wd]

Hello, I want to discuss something with you regarding your post about Spain being a “father figure” to your Mexico and how this is not a very good take.

- You do realize that Cortez’s brief stay in Tenochtitlán, while “pacifist” was the beginning of what would be one of the most disgusting acts of violence against the Mexica peoples and later lead to the colonization of Mexico? Cortez and his men where later ran out during “Noche Triste” where they had to retreat and join forces with the Tlaxcalans, Otomi and several other tribes who where on bad terms with the Mexica just to sack and burn Tenochtitlán.

- Making your Mexico Spain’s kid (regardless of whether or not they’re biologically related) is unintentionally romanticizing the colonization and brutality the Spanish committed against the Mexica peoples. I’m not denying the Spanish influence Mexico has, I’m Mexican myself. I’m simply saying that colonialism shouldn’t be romanticized.

If you want me to elaborate on any of these points I will do so gladly. I mean no ill towards you, I simply want you to maybe take another look at how you write these character’s relationship.

I don't know why it won't let me publish it in Spanish… but here I'm going to put images of what it says in Spanish and if you want, you can read the English translation at the end!

~~~~~~

Here is the English translation!

I'm not a fluent English speaker but I try to use it for the community on Tumblr! <3

Hello buddy from Mexico, I'm from Mexico too! I totally understand everything you are saying, but I wanted to make the explanation in Spanish so you could understand me in the best way.

Luis at the time of the conquest, he was less than 200 years old when he was born/appeared in the territory of Tenochtitlan, but his presence was important for the consolidation of what would later become "New Spain". Well, I take Antonio/Spain, to be the father figure of my Mexico because to begin with Luis was physically and mentally between 5 - 7 years old when the territory was taken, he was present at the murder of Moctezuma's offspring, but as you may notice he was just a little boy, what he did was to suppress the terrible and bloody memories about the bad times during the Spanish occupation of Mexico.

There are children who do not remember parts of their childhood, partly because as you get older your memory goes through a process of erasure from an early age, but with Luis he blocked out the experiences in reaction to prevent such a traumatic event from driving him mad. Antonio sheltered him in his arms and obviously he, not having overcome the mourning of his first father figure, sought desperately to cling to a new one with whom he would associate all the good and his new care.

In my interpretation I have 2 more Mexicans! Teresa is the South of Mexico and Mateo plays the North. None of the 3 share the same age nor the same experience of the invasion.

Luis would have been between 5-7 years old, Teresa between 9 -11 and Mateo is the youngest as the northern territory itself was not very populated, he had physical and mental years between 2 - 4 years old. Teresa was the most "mature" of the three and she and Mateo share the idea that Antonio was an invader, someone who took away their original home, but all three were born to be the representation of New Spain and later of the Mexican territory!

And as I have said before, Luis represents the centre of Mexico, the part with much more European influence than the north or south of the same country (not to say that there is no European influence in these parts. There are many cathedrals and government buildings in the centres of our states that have a colonial style!), but historically, Mexico did not stop pursuing the idea of "being like Europe" until 1921, a little more than 100 years ago.

A piece of information I heard in a podcast called "the true history of Mexico", by a Mexican historian and psychologist called Francisco Mendoza, he talked about the American invasion, in one of the chapters he explained that there was a president of Mexico who was so terrified by the idea of Mexico disappearing and decided to make a proposal to send a letter to Spain and ask them to send a prince, Obviously this person was removed from power, but I don't doubt that Luis could have been someone who supported the idea, because he lived all that time with the father figure attachment he gave to Antonio/Spain. His brothers later gave him a good beating for that, but he could have been the one behind the idea.

Even later, when the Austrian emperor arrived from France some time later, Luis received him with enormous affection and affection, and how could he not? He did a lot of good things for the Mexican people even though they didn't know about it because they couldn't read or write, and later the Ministry of Public Education (SEP in Mexico) itself had to take some of the many writings that Maximilian of Habsburg was going to propose to form the educational system that we have!

Also, in the Porfiriato itself, there were many buildings influenced by French architecture, such as the Palacio de Bellas Artes in Mexico City. Historically speaking, Mexico did not stop chasing Europe until after the Mexican Revolution, and nowadays the city centre still has a lot of European influence. We ourselves are the product of years of miscegenation.

I never meant to imply that the actions taken by the Spanish Empire in Mexico Tenochtitlan were good! I just want to make it clear that Luis was a child when all this happened and his attachment to Antonio came from the trauma of a loss at an early age. If you want me to explain more about my interpretation of my children you can ask me again and I will answer calmly! ✨

[discuntelysium]

@elohima

imho, the second you turn rbs or comments off, you lose. But there are so many inaccuracies and logical fallacies in your response. Normally i would just let sleeping dogs lie but you’re not the only one who believes this bullshit so i want to respond. 

“Israel is not an apartheid state. you link your articles and resources, but have you ever been to Israel? come visit- it's a beautiful place. talk to arabs living here, in israel- not in the west bank or in gaza, which i never mentioned in my post. ask them how their lives are here.”

This actually made my jaw drop. She said, “Yeah the UN and Amnesty International say it's apartheid but its a beautiful country 🤓”. Everything just flew right over your head, huh? What's the matter, is systemic too big of a word for you? Grab a dictionary and reread what I wrote in my original post, cause there's no way you're stupid enough to believe that this is a valid argument.

You say your argument excludes the West Bank and Gaza? That’s fine. To be clear, you and I both know that Israel is still an apartheid state. There’s something you never mention in any of your posts. Probably because you know that it completely destroys your argument: It’s that your “country” distinguishes between nationality and citizenship.  

Which means that “Arab” citizens do not have the same access that Jewish Israeli citizens do. Because nationality, in Israel is determined by ethnicity, cannot be changed, and this discrimination affects nearly every aspect of Arab-Israeli life. So as you can see, apartheid still exists, even within the green line. 

Let me be clear: when multinational NGOs, multinational IGOs, and human rights groups both in and out side of Israel claim that it is an apartheid state, there is nothing you can say to dispute that. Okay? Nothing. Stop embarrassing yourself. 

“HAMAS is a terrorist organization. they control gaza completely. hamas hides behind children and stores ammunition (that is used against israeli citizens) in the middle of neighborhoods where gazan citizens live: in kindergartens, schools, hospitals and actual buildings where people live.”

But do they, really? 

An investigation done by the BBC found no evidence to corroborate this claim.

An investigation done by the Belfast Telegram found no evidence to corroborate this claim.

An investigation done by Amnesty International found no evidence to corroborate this claim. 

And still, there is no evidence from either side that Hamas is using these “human shields”. 

Furthermore, this kind of logic only serves to dehumanize the Palestinians living in Gaza by making it seem like their deaths are circumstantial; by turning them into accessories to the war; by obfuscating the truth which is, Palestinian people die because Israel carpet bombs them. Because Israel is not targeting Hamas; it’s targeting Palestinians. Because for the past 70 years, Israel has demonstrated a commitment to wiping Palestine off the map completely. 

In fact, Israel is the one who uses Palestinians as human shields; by forcing Palestinian citizens to check homes for traps, or by tying them to tanks to prevent people from throwing rocks. So maybe it’s just a case of projection.  

oh, and by the way, hamas isn't the only terror organization around here. Hezbollah is the one bombing Israeli civilians in the north, so Israel fights back. you know, like every country does, but for some reason we, the one Jewish country in the world, have to justify protecting ourselves from terror.

What does it mean for a settler-colony to ‘protect itself’? Protect itself from whom? The people whose land they took? 

I’m actually genuinely curious as to how you can believe that violence on behalf of the IDF and the Israeli government is an act of self defense. You didn’t respond to anything I said in my first rb about all the palestinians detained in Israeli prisons without trial, do you think that they were put there in self defense? Or the 200+ people killed when Palestinians organized their peaceful march for freedom. Did that stem from the need to protect Israel too? What about when the IDF forces Palestinians to cut down their olive trees, their only source of income, some of which have been in families for generations. What do you say to this? It’s not defense. It’s cruelty. 

And oh my god, stop victimizing yourself. There was massive pushback to the Vietnam War, the war in Afghanistan. Because guess what— most people feel some amount of discomfort at the idea of innocent civilians being killed in their name. There is nothing unique about your country or the situation that it is in right now. It was born out of violence, it maintains itself through violence, and it justifies this violence through the dehumanization of the other. And you are complicit. 

my country was created because this is our land. 

This line of reasoning + the claims to Jewish “indigeneity” are often presented as justification for Israel’s creation. But this is a response to a strawman argument; as if the question of who lives in Palestine just depends on who got there first. Evidently, between the first century and the nineteenth century, people moved in, populations and demographics shifted. Palestine was not “your land”; if it was, there wouldn’t need to be a mass exodus of Palestinians, you fucking dumbass. 

Do you know who really is ‘a people without a land’? African Americans whose ancestors were brought to America as slaves. Romani people, who also faced persecution in Europe and during WWII. Why do you think they aren’t getting their own ethnostate? 

I don’t trust your critical thinking skills, so I’ll just tell you. It’s because giving them an ethnostate doesn’t further western hegemony like the creation of Israel did. The very roots of Israel are steeped in colonialism. It was described as a “colonial project” by Theodore Herzl, one of the founders of zionism. Other notable quotations from proponents of an independent Jewish state in Palestine include, “Zionism is a colonial adventure”; “The Arabs do not want us here because we wish to be the rulers of this land. I will fight for this. I will make sure we are the landlords.”

It’s not “your land”; even modern day politicians know that there is no legal justification for Israel existing. The only people who believe that it does are people like you. 

on November 29th, 1947, the UN suggested establishing two states—one Jewish, one Arab. the jews agreed. the arabs started a war the very next day.

It amazes me how people always manage to learn just enough history to appease their own world-views, nothing more. 

The UN’s suggestion was just that— a suggestion. The UN does not actually have any authority to create states. In fact, the UN committee on Palestine acknowledged that the establishment of Israel had infringed on Palestinian right to self determination.  

You framed this in a way that implies that “the arabs” are to blame because they started the war. Read this very carefully: colonialism is always, always the original act of violence. Everything that happens after-wards is a symptom of that. The UN’s two-state proposal was essentially just asking Palestinians to agree to their own colonization. No peoples should ever be asked to do this. 

why didn't you mention the horrible massacre that happened on October 7th? the citizens kidnapped by hamas?

Because I recognize that this didn’t happen in a bubble. 

Because Hamas was originally funded by Israel. 

Because Hamas attempted to negotiate a peace treaty with Hamas 5 times, and Israel rejected its terms; to free Palestinian prisoners in Israel; to remove Israeli troops from Palestinian territories; to restore Palestinian borders to what they were in 1967. 

Because Hamas began as a peaceful group and radicalized incrementally, and each radicalization occurred directly because of Israeli violence.

Because Israel prefers violence to peace, as has been demonstrated throughout its short and bloody history. 

i will continue to live here- i have no where else to go. this is my home. that is it.

You can do whatever the hell you want. I have no objection to where you live. What I do object to, is the beliefs that you hold about your citizenship, about your country, and about the people that had to be and still are killed and exiled to justify your country’s existence. 

[kissyougoodnight]

you're literally a puppet of the hamas, Iranian, propaganda machine. they pray on 'open minded' liberal people because you are such an easy target. Whilst you think the media is fooling you, in fact its all your social media feeds that are fooling you. Occupation must end, civilians caught up in the line of fire during war is horrendous. But waking up in the morning with a plan to commit the worst war crime since ww2 is something else. There is no place or room for comparison. there is no whataboutism. The only governments that support or stay quiet about this act are russia/iran/lebanon/syria/north korea. Wake the fuck up, do you align your beliefs with these governments??? hamas is worst than isis, you puppets jsut dont get it yet. For as long as they exist there will never be an end to suffering of the Palestinian people. unarmed civilians, including kids, women and toddlers were brutally murdered. shot on their homes.

https://www.facebook.com/100001831699563/posts/23932970166347372/?mibextid=rS40aB7S9Ucbxw6v

proof that hamas took themselves because they are proud of murdering civilians and desecrating dead bodies

I will try to be brief;

Firstly, criticising my use of social media and then linking Facebook posts is A+ critical thinking.

And I agree that Hamas is a large part of the problem and that is no fault of the Palestinian people. Hamas is a militant group of Israel's own creation and they are not helpful to either side. While they have updated their manifesto to say that they want freedom for the Palestinian's rather than their land returned, Hamas is very much a hindered regime.

That is not to say that they are equal in size or power to their opposition, the IDF. Hamas is not a military, they are not funded by any government/s, they are not representatives of the people. In fact, Palestine has no governance over Gaza and the West Bank, all of their resources are controlled by Israel, as demonstrated by the most recent blockade. (Which by the way is a war crime but just like all the other times Israel has enforced such a thing this will go unpunished.)

It seems like we agree on a lot stances, yes occupation must end, civilians should not be caught in the line of fire. But who is the occupying force? Surely the Zionist state that controls what is known as the world's largest open air prison? (A counterproductive name as this implies the innocent civilians have committed a crime deserving of a sentence but I digress.) You cannot believe that Palestine or Hamas has the power to end the occupation?

You claim that there is no room for "whataboutisms" but this is a genocide over 100 years in the making. How is the Palestinian anger towards Israel unjustified when they have been treated as lesser citizens by the Israeli government? How do we expect them to behave towards a people who's only interactions with them have been filled with hate and violence?

And beyond that, where was this outcry in 2018, 2009, 1967 and every year in between? Calling this incident the worst war crime since WWII is not only a gross exaggeration but also an ignorant statement. The state of Israel that you defend so readily has done worse things than this and you don't even have to look that far back. (I will not even begin to list the hypocrisy of the countries speaking out in Israel's defence and stick to only the parties involved.)

Palestine and their allies all over the world have been calling for an end to the apartheid for many years, any time they have been close to a solution Israel has upturned the negotiations (as the controlling state they have the only power to do so) or the US has used it's veto to stop UN intervention.

Your anger at the way things are is justified, you are just aiming it at the wrong target.

[nousernamevainbs]

Yeah... see... I know I'm gonna eat a whole lot of crap about this, but it needs to be said;

One thing I have NEVER understood is why any people, of any origin, would ever flee violence and persecution in their own home country, emigrate to another and then immediately re-immerse themselves in the same conflicts they ran away from to start with. IT MAKES ZERO SENSE!!!

I understand the need to stand against fascism, racism, sexism, etc.. and not let it proliferate anywhere. However to bring the baggage you were opposing in another country, to a new one - the one you were hoping to find a fresh start in - only invites more of the same to continue happening. The law of attraction....

Allow me an analogy; You broke up with your ex because they were an abusive POS, but you now demand your new partner act like your old one, and you get mad at them when they don't. Baggage. Irrational.

I know this particular conflict is literally thousands of years old and has likely been DNA-coded at this point, and is mostly based on a construct known as religion, but come on! When do you choose to move past things? You emigrated by choice. Why bring the negative BS you ran from with you? This would NOT fly ANYWHERE else in the world but North America, and the things you rally against are exactly the things that allow you to have the voice, and do the things you are doing. You have a choice now, choose differently.

I don't have any personal disdain, or hate for anyone or anything, but bringing a conflict you had in your own world and dumping it on my doorstep, only serves to cultivate more anger and ignorance. Makes about as much sense as pulling down monuments because the person they were erected to edify, was not a perfect model of a human being and committed atrocities. News flash; we're ALL human and therefore imperfect... THERE IS NOT A SINGLE SOUL ALIVE WHO HAS NOT MADE MISTAKES. What defines us is how we rise from the ashes. How about we start telling the real story, lay out the facts and let everyone else choose which side they support instead. Not the politically-neutered stories that are created to steer opinions. Facts! Give me the good AND the bad, let ME decide where you land on my personal scale of ethics and morality, DON'T SHOVE your past or your dogmas in my face, educate me as to the 'why' and allow me to choose my place in all of it. Don't insult me because I am not immediately on your side. I'll tell you to gtfo on principle alone! That's human nature, Paduan. You may alienate an otherwise powerful ally. Sun Tzu.

"Those that ignore (erase) the past, are doomed to repeat it." Again; tell me your story...

Bring your war into my house and now you'll have TWO wars to fight, not one. It doesn't make sense. You're welcome here, I will offer you shelter, food and protection - my hospitality, my honor. DON'T deface the things in MY HOUSE you dislike. I paid for them with my other family members / friends. You seriously impinge my desire to help your cause and strain my hospitality by vandalizing my house. If you want allies; this 'ain't' how to get them, cupcake! I'm more likely to throw your disrespectful ass out and back where it came from without a care to what happens to your ass when you get back to the persecution and violence you're trying to cultivate in MY living space; and ran from in the first place! Currently BOTH your fanatical cultures need a 'time out' (and you're not the only ones, either) - well you ARE acting like toddlers, so.... (Blessings on those who have already chosen another path and are making a difference with OTHER actions, as I realize this is not a representation of EVERYONE.)

Using myself as an example; Born Canadian. Related to BOTH sides of the formation of this country, in fact I am related to some of the biggest European names in Canadian history. I have Irish heritage - do I give a rats ass about their ongoing conflict, beyond humanist interest? No. I chose a better life. I have French heritage - do I give a rats ass about France, beyond humanist interest? No. I chose a better life. I have First Nation's heritage - do I give a rat's ass about that? Well... yes... it's in MY house, MY back yard. If I moved to Palestine (only chose it because it's relevant to the post. If it offends you, insert any country / culture name you prefer - Hell, call it Trumpopia for all I care...), would I care about Canada? Not beyond humanist interest. I would choose a better existence. HOWEVER; IF I mirrored your actions over there, in a Canadian fashion, I would likely be killed. I was born in Montréal - do I give a rats ass what happens there? Yep. Kinda. But I am not about to riot, protest and vandalize my current chosen home, so that my friends and family can see what an idiot I am for squandering my opportunity (that they likely supported and sacrificed to give me). My door is open to those of them who want out... always has been, always will be. My family left Québec for better opportunities beyond the language wars (I now speak 5) in the 70's and 80's. Do I protest the fact, that because of my place of birth, all things in Canada are bilingual? No. I embrace it! (Granted nobody has died recently related to "Bill 101")...

"Anyone who is still complicit..." Seriously!? How about you get your head out of YOUR ass pup, and realize you have the tools and opportunity to leave that negative crap behind you instead of planting that seed in someone else's garden? I am fighting my OWN wars, why should I help you fight yours as well? YOU brought it to my doorstep, and now you're endangering MY family as well (metaphorically-speaking), what makes you think you'll now win my support? I'd sooner throw your disrespectful, mis-behaving ass back to the wolves you ran from!

Want to celebrate your culture? YES! Be proud of it, educate us on it, share it. But leave the negativity in the place you ran from, please. I LOVE learning about different cultures, I embrace it, but I have enough conflict of my own in my life without being forced to take on yours as well. I want to embrace YOU, NOT your baggage!

Want me as an ally? Don't fight in my house. Don't destroy anything in my house. Plead your case and let me decide whether I kick your ass to the curb or devote my time and energy to aiding your cause.

I would think this was simple logic, but in a world that caters to insanity and gives attention to those who yell the loudest - whether right or wrong - or look the 'flashiest', I don't expect there to be ANY solutions coming anytime soon.

When you leave a bad situation, only to end up in the same situation again and again, by your own hand, suggests brain damage and serious past trauma... can you rise above it, or do you want to keep wallowing and blame everyone and everything around you? At some point, you will HAVE to look in a mirror...

If this resonates with just ONE person....

PEACE!

All eyes on Rafah‼️‼️‼️

Go to the top tag and interact with it and make it go absolutely fucking viral.

And to anyone who is still complicit, get your head out of your ass.

Well done, I’m proud of them and quite impressed 👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽

(I will be removing/blocking useless comments, I do not need that in my comment section ty very much. Edit: However I will let the the idiocy speak for itself)