theseawakes

[theseawakes]

‘I wish for death’ - Twelve-year-old Alma says. She fled bombing and shelling twice before the third place they sheltered was bombed, She was rescued from the rubble only to find out both her parents and all four of her siblings had been killed. She found her 18-month-old brother in an unimaginable state. Her little brother was beheaded from the rubble after the IOF massacred them.

Source: BBC

[theseawakes]

Burden of Truth (Book 1) Chapter One

Father Figure! Marc Spector x Teen! Reader

Father Figure! Steven Grant x Teen! Reader

Mother Figure! Layla El-Faouly x Teen! Reader

Chapter One: In the Alps

Summary: (Y/N) goes to the Alps to find Ammit's scarab. They encounter much more trouble than they ever had before.

            (Y/N) tugged on the ends of their sweatshirt as they walked through the village. The search for the scarab of Ammit had brought them unexpectedly to the Austrian Alps, but according to their information, the Followers of Ammit’s leader, Arthur Harrow, had many cult members there, and (Y/N) had to get to the scarab before he got possession of it.

            Everyone in the village headed towards the town square, and (Y/N) drifted easily into the flow. If they caught sight of the person delivering the scarab, (Y/N) would pick their pocket and be on their way. They glanced over the crowd. They just had to be careful of the men with guns.

            Their eyes landed on a man with a white hood pulled over his head. (Y/N) frowned. Isn’t that Khonshu’s avatar? They watched him look around almost in fright. That wasn’t like the man they’d seen before. He’d seemed much more self-assured then.

            Still, (Y/N) remained on guard. They had never met an avatar other than him, and Khonshu hadn’t seemed nice, so (Y/N) wasn’t sure about getting closer.

            Their attention went back to the crowd as they all came to a stop at the town square. Murmurs and excited whispers went up as they parted to let a single man walk through.

            Harrow strolled through the crowd as they looked at him reverently. His cane tapped the ground rhythmically. Ammit’s followers bowed and murmured praise to him, thanking him for his presence and for the guidance of Ammit.

            (Y/N) shivered at how honest all the devotion was.

            The people around them jostled to get to the front. They all wanted to reach out to Harrow and even just brush his clothes. (Y/N) and Khonshu’s Avatar ended up nearer, and (Y/N) averted their gaze. They didn’t really want to deal with him. If he was there, it meant something dangerous might happen, and (Y/N) had done a very good job working in the shadows for seven years. They didn’t need it to change now.

            “What a beautiful day,” said Harrow in English. “It’s like we’re in heaven.” He chuckled. “Only it’s not heaven, isn’t it? It’s a darkness.” He smiled kindly. “Sometimes it hides in our very hearts. We are here to make Earth as much like Heaven as possible.” Harrow looked around with a benevolent expression. “Who’d like to go first?”

            (Y/N) watched as a young man stepped forward. They were about to see firsthand what had made Ma’at dislike Ammit so much, what made her want Harrow to never get closer to her teachings and power.

            “You are a brave man, offering your soul for judgement,” said Harrow.

            Judging before their time, before their death? thought (Y/N). But they have no Feather of Truth for their hearts to be weighed against. This was nothing but a perversion of the Judgement of the Dead.

            “Wanting to serve out goddess even before she wakes,” said Harrow.

            He rolled up his sleeves, and (Y/N) spotted the tattoo of scales on his forearm. He balanced his crocodile-headed cane in the man’s hands. The cane began to rock back and forth, and the scales on Harrow’s forearm moved with them.

            “I judge you in Ammit’s name with but a fraction of her power,” declared Harrow.

            The scales balanced and turned green. The crowd gasped, and Harrow smiled at the young man.

            “This is the face of a good man!” he said benevolently. He hugged them, and applause went up in the crowd.

            “Who would like to go next?” said a man next to Harrow.

            “Me,” said an old woman. “Please, Harrow, I must know.”

            “Call me Arthur.” Harrow extended a kindly hand to her. “Come.” She stepped up to him and allowed him to take her hands. “Will you accept your scales, regardless of the outcomes?”

            “Yes,” said the woman.

            The cane swung back and forth, and the woman stared at Harrow’s scales apprehensively. They froze unbalanced and turned a sickening red.

            “I’m sorry,” said Harrow sadly, but (Y/N) felt the lie. He was happy to rid the world of people judged to be unrighteous.

            “I’ve been good my entire life,” said the woman desperately, unable to understand the results of her judgement.

            “I believe you,” said Harrow. Truth. “But the scales see everything. Perhaps it’s something that lies ahead. He sighed. “Well, I wish you could live to see the world we make. Yet, Ammit has decided.”

            The woman gave a gasp that died in her throat. Her body froze before collapsing, dead.

            (Y/N)’s stomach twisted, and they grimaced as every part of them surged angrily at the injustice of these people being given no chance, even for their future. It went against the proper order of life. It was just wrong, and (Y/N) could feel it.

            Harrow knelt sadly beside her body before it was carried away. One of his men walked up and crouched, holding his gun tightly.

            “I’m sorry. There was a problem with the exchange,” he said in German.

            Someone already took the scarab? thought (Y/N). Their eyes went to Khonshu’s Avatar.

            “We got ambushed. Someone killed two of our men,” continued the man.

            It was definitely Khonshu’s Avatar’s doing.

            Harrow stood. “Is he still here?”

            “We think so, yes,” said the guard.

            They know his face, thought (Y/N), glancing at him again.

            Harrow looked out over the crowd. “Bow to Ammit!” he said in Ancient Egyptian.

            The entire crowd knelt ((Y/N), too, to blend in). Khonshu’s Avatar was late, having no idea what the order was and not being part of the cult.

            “Oh, bollocks,” cursed Khonshu’s avatar.

            (Y/N) frowned. That was a totally different accent, English (weird English, too) instead of American. What was going on?

            “You,” said Harrow, looking at him. “I know you.”

            “Me? Hi, uh…” The avatar stood up nervously.

            “Mercenary,” said Harrow coldly, and all eyes went to Khonshu’s avatar.

            “ ‘Mercenary?’ ” repeated the man nervously as the crowd stood up again. “No, no. I’m not a mercenary. No, I’m a gift shop-ist. I work at a gift shop. My name’s Steven Grant.”

            No lies at all, thought (Y/N). He really was Steven Grant and worked at a gift shop. Which, incidentally, made the whole situation more complicated because Harrow was also telling the truth. A regular job as cover? But what about the accents?

            “I’m trying to get back home. To London,” said Steven nervously as Harrow approached. “London? I dunno why I’m saying it like that.”

            “Well, Steven Grant of the gift shop,” said Harrow.

            “Yeah?” said Steven.

            “Will you return to the scarab?” said Harrow, holding out his hands.

            Shit, can’t let him have it, thought (Y/N). Now that they’d seen Harrow judge people and kill them, they knew that even beyond Ma’at’s instructions they needed to stop him. (Y/N) refused to let innocent people get hurt.

            “The…The what?” said Steven, confused. “Oh, alright.” He patted his pockets nervously. “Yeah, the…Oh, you mean…” He pulled the scarab out of his pocket. He stared at in, not having expected it to be there.

            “You will give him nothing.”

            Khonshu’s voice echoed over the street, and Steven looked around for it wildly. He swallowed and held out the scarab to Harrow anyways.

            No! thought (Y/N). They took a step forward.

            Harrow reached out. Steven’s fingers closed suddenly over the scarab. He looked at them in confusion.

            “I strongly encourage you to return that,” said Harrow.

            “I’m not-I’m…” Steven stammered, perplexed. He glared at his fingers, willing them to open. “I’m try—” He hit his hand with his other. “Come on, now. It’s like my fingers froze.” He tried to peel open his fingers. “But here’s some of that…I don’t know, maybe it’s part of the high altitude or something.” He managed to open his hand and grabbed the scarab. “Aha! There, take it, so strange. Sorry, but—” Steven’s hand swiveled behind him, again unbidden.

            “I will not ask again,” said Harrow firmly.

            “I didn’t do that on purpose,” said Steven. “I don’t know what’s happening.”

            Completely truthful, thought (Y/N). This whole thing was proving strange.

            Steven turned his whole body in an attempt to his hand nearer to Harrow. “There, take it, take it.”

            (Y/N) couldn’t let that happen. They darted out and snatched the scarab. Steven and Harrow’s eyes widened, but (Y/N) didn’t wait around to find out their other reactions. They turned and made a run for it.

            “Grab them,” ordered Harrow.

            Several adults emerged from the ground and grabbed for (Y/N). They dodged through a few, but two snagged their arms. (Y/N) yelped and pulled to get away. It didn’t work, so they just curled their fist closed around the scarab, refusing to let go.

            “Who are you?” said Harrow, tilting his head in confusion as his people tried to pry their hand open.

            “Hey, wait, mate, you can’t hurt a kid,” said Steven, brow creasing in concern.

            “Stay out of this, worm,” said Khonshu’s voice.

            Ma’at remained silent, apparently uninterested in getting near Khonshu again.

            The people holding (Y/N) twisted their arm, and they cried out, straining to keep control of their arm. They couldn’t let Harrow get the scarab, not when he was going to hurt people.

            Steven’s eyes rolled into his head for a moment before returning to glare at Harrow and Ammit’s followers. The entire body language had changed.

            “Finally,” said Khonshu.

            Not-Steven—this wasn’t Steven—surged forwards and attacked the people trying to take the scarab for Harrow. He pulled them off of (Y/N) and punched them violently. One tried to attack him in return, but he kicked him to the ground and stomped on his head. (Y/N) stumbled back as their attacker let go, and Not-Steven swung for his head, catching the scarab as it fell. Another grabbed for (Y/N) again, and Not-Steven hit them in the face with the scarab. All the people fell to the ground against Not-Steven, left with bloody knuckles from no wounds on himself.

            (Y/N) stared in surprise, as did Harrow and the crowd. Not-Steven turned to face Harrow, and then his eyes rolled into his head once more. He blinked furiously and looked around in confusion.

            “No, the idiots back,” grumbled Khonshu’s voice.

            Oh. (Y/N) put it together. Dissociative Identity Disorder. Steven and Not-Steven were alters, and one was clearly more of Khonshu’s avatar than the other. (Y/N) had met Not-Steven a year ago, and now they had encountered Steven.

            Steven cleared his throat uncomfortably as he stared at his bloody hands. “S-Sorry…” He put his hands up and glanced at (Y/N). “A-Are you alright?”

            (Y/N) nodded sharply, but they warily eyed the crowd backing off. They needed to get out of that village now. They had been seen by Harrow, which made them a target. If they didn’t leave with the scarab, (Y/N) was going to be killed. Or at least judged, which may end in death.

            “We need to go,” said (Y/N), taking a step back as Harrow and the crowd approached again.

            “Right, right…” Even Steven knew that was the best course of action now. He looked at Harrow warily. “I’m just gonna…we’re gonna go, alright? Yeah.”

            Steven and (Y/N) ran around the crowd, dodging behind tractors and barrels before they could be grabbed. The only escape route they could see was the cupcake-truck. But, seeing as they were desperate, (Y/N) and Steven jumped on.

            “Don’t you dare drop that scarab,” said Khonshu.

            “Alright, alright, alright!” shouted Steven, starting the vehicle.

            “Go, go, go!” said (Y/N), kicking away someone trying to open their door and locking it tightly.

            “We’re going!” cried Steven, stepping on the gas and speeding out of the village onto the roads beyond. “What am I doing, what am I doing?! I don’t even have my license.”

            “Just don’t crash,” said (Y/N), as encouraging as they could be considering the circumstances. They looked behind them. “We’ve got a lot of company.”

            “This has to be a dream,” said Steven nervously.

            “It’s not, Steven,” said (Y/N), grimacing as they saw Harrow’s men catching up. The cupcake van wasn’t going to outrun them.

            “They’re gonna kill us!” cried Steven as he wound around the curves of the roads.

            He tried to speed up, but a chicken-transportation truck appeared in front of them, and he had to slow down. The followers of Ammit rammed into them from the back.

            (Y/N) grit their teeth and squeezed their eyes shut. This isn’t 2018. This isn’t 2018. They weren’t going to die in a car accident. They weren’t.

            Steven honked and swerved around the truck of chickens. “Come on, move your ass!” he grimaced as he saw the old lady glaring at him. “Thank you. So sorry. Thank you.”

            Shots rang out, and a guard jumped from the front of his car to the back the cupcake van. He pulled at the doors, letting them swing wildly in the wind.

            (Y/N) scrambled into the back of the van and kicked him back. The guard fell onto the road, and they grimaced as the cars hit him and kept going. No sooner was he down, though, then another man jumped towards the open back. This time, he kept his gun raised, and (Y/N) dodged to the side. He grabbed for Steven and the scarab, and (Y/N) grabbed his ankle, tripping him. He stumbled and aimed downwards at him with his gun. Alongside them, another car was pulling up with a man with his gun trained on Steven.

            “Wait, no!” shouted Steven, and (Y/N) pushed back to try to avoid being shot.

            In the next moment, Steven—No, Not-Steven—grabbed the man aiming for (Y/N) and smashed his head into the steering wheel. He jerked back, and Not-Steven grabbed his gun. In one fluid motion, he shot the driver of the other car, sending it careening off into the mountain, and he shot the man aiming for (Y/N), letting his body fall back and out of the van.

            No sooner was it done than his eyes rolled again, and Steven dropped the gun in shock and disgust. “I don’t understand what’s happening!” cried Steven.

            “Truck!” shouted (Y/N), grabbing the seat they were behind as Steven screamed and swerved violently around a log truck. It tipped over and crushed a pursuing car.

            Two others pulled up on either side of the van and tried to hit the sides of the cupcake truck. A man on either side raised a gun and aimed.

            (Y/N) ducked and prepared to take the wheel if Steven got shot.

            His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and Not-Steven’s eyes focused. He glanced at (Y/N) before spinning the wheel. (Y/N) held onto the seat as the van spun around, hit one car, and ended up backwards. The car crashed off the side of the mountain, and now the cupcake truck faced the final car pursuing them.

            Not-Steven’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, and Steven focused again.

            “I’m driving backwards!” he cried.

            “Watch out!” said (Y/N), bracing as the car behind(?) them tried to hit them.

            Steven threw the gun at the car, and (Y/N) groaned.

            “Did he just throw the gun?!”

            “I don’t know what I’m doing!” said Steven.

            “Then leave us be, parasite!”

            Steven panicked and turned the wheel, spinning the car around again. They sped towards the forest in the valley, and then…the engine died.

            They coasted to a stop, and the car behind them pulled up to block the road in front. The men got out, readied their guns, and headed towards them.

            “Come on,” said (Y/N), pulling Steven towards the back of the van to escape.

            At the perfect moment, the logs that had come off the truck from earlier landed on the road and crushed the men.

            “Oh, shit!” cried Steven.

            “Oh, god,” said (Y/N), eyes widening. What an unfortunate way to go. Still…it meant they were alive.

            “We need to go.”

            (Y/N) glanced at the man beside them. It was Not-Steven again.

            “Do you still have the scarab?” said (Y/N), following Not-Steven.

            “Yeah,” said Not-Steven. They headed into the woods and walked along the road towards the next town over.

            “What’s your name?” asked (Y/N).

            “Marc,” said Not-Steven. He glanced back at them. “You’re Ma’at’s avatar.”

            (Y/N) nodded. “You’re Khonshu’s.”

            Marc narrowed his eyes. “Yeah.”

            “…I’m (Y/N),” said (Y/N). They realized they should have introduced themself earlier.

            Marc nodded. “Do you have a way back to…wherever you live?”

            “Ma’at will tell me where I need to go next,” said (Y/N). “I’ll figure it out from there.”

            Marc frowned. “You don’t live anywhere?”

            “No?” said (Y/N).

            Marc looked at them and furrowed his brow before turning back to the front. “Be careful.”

            “I know,” said (Y/N). They were the avatar of a god and took back (stole) relics from criminals regularly. They wouldn’t be alive if they didn’t know to be careful.

            But, still, there was something nice about someone saying it instead of (Y/N) having to just take care of themself.

l

            “You were filming our judgement, correct?” Harrow smiled at a young woman.

            She nodded. “Yes, Mr. Harrow.”

            “Please, call me Arthur,” said Harrow. “Would you mind if I took a look?”

            “Of course, Mr-Arthur,” said the young woman.

            “Thank you,” said Harrow, smiling.

            “Mr. Harrow,” said one of his guards, walking up to him. “They got away with the scarab, but we’re already tracking down ‘Steven Grant.’ ”

            “Good,” said Harrow. He held up the phone with a still of the crowd from the video. “And I need you to figure out who this is.” (Y/N)’s face stared out of the crowd.

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[theseawakes]

You Get What You Give

PLATONIC Moon Knight System (Steven Grant, Jake Lockley, Marc Spector) x Reader

Minors, do not interact

Author’s Note: Hi y'all. Sorry about the state of the blog as of late. I've been going through some things lately that have been taking a toll. Anyways, thank you for your patience when it comes to my posting. Love you all <3

Type: NEW

Description: Borderline independent and on your own, the steady routine you've been made to get used to is interrupted by a late arrival.

Word Count: 1,381

Warnings: Mild Angst

By clicking or tapping on “Keep Reading”, you consent to viewing/consuming this media. Minors do not interact. The cultivation of one’s internet experience is up to the individual, and any other personal preferences do not dictate the creations of others nor myself. The recreation, reformatting, re-posting or distribution of this content on other platforms is not welcome and I ask that any and all parties would keep from doing so, thank you.

 “Remember to be at the circuit by seven for a team debrief!” 

Turning back to give your teammate a thumbs-up in response, you took up a brief jog to the bus stop a half a mile from the practice track. Though you had been up and about since dawn that morning, you were still quite awake and lively even as ten o’clock loomed close. On the Friday evening of what was sure to be an eventful race weekend, there was certainly no time for idleness. 

With a remaining list of tasks still occupying your mind, you were more or less distracted on your way home, not noticing the slight boot prints marking the welcome mat outside your flat as you unlocked the door. 

“Where on Earth have you been!? Do you have any idea how worried we were for you?!”

Your hand flew to cover your mouth as you stifled a terrified shriek. But in the immediate decline of your fright, you could see that there was, in fact, no intruder in the apartment, but someone who you had been far too absent for your liking. 

“I mean, honestly! You better have an incredible explanation for why you’ve been out this late, especially after a long day of classes!”

Drawing in a deep breath, you took off your shoes and jacket, leaving them neatly in their respective places by the door. 

“I wasn’t out doing anything stupid, if that’s what you were wondering.” You stated firmly, finding it difficult to look in Steven’s direction. 

Clearly, your vague and slighted tone did not sit with him well. “And what exactly were you up to then? Marc and I had half a mind to report you missing! Coming home this late is unacceptable! Anything could have happened to you!”

Pressing your lips into a tight line, you made a concerted effort not to smile. The situation was far from funny, in fact it was incredibly frustrating, heartbreaking even. Though, over the years you had been more or less on your own, you had adopted the disconcerting habit of smiling and even laughing when under any degree of distress. 

Steven, in the midst of his tirade became incredibly stiff, and you wondered what manner of fatherly lecturing awaited you next. 

“What’s in your bag? Does that have to do with why you’re home so late like Steven asked?” 

Jake’s hands were much quicker than your own, effectively pulling your duffel bag off your arm. Nearly breaking the zipper in the process, he opened the bag wide, turning it on end to empty its contents. 

“You’ve still been racing?” His tone was incredibly even, bordering on some contorted version of friendliness. “Come here.”

“No. It’s been a long day, and there’s still things I need to get done–”

The corner of Jake’s mouth visibly twitched. “What could you possibly need to get done? Homework? You’re gonna blow off this important conversation for homework?”

“Yes homework!” You snapped back, clenching your fingers so tightly together, they audibly cracked. “Homework and taking care of the apartment and getting ready for my race, and talking to the landlord about getting an extension again, and cooking dinner and just making sure nothing here falls apart!” 

Even in your somewhat frenzied state, you were trying your best to pick your words diplomatically. 

“You guys have been gone for…months! Months! Maybe I got a text here or there, but never from you! It was always Layla letting me know that you were all still alive! I know you keep other people safe, thats your duty, but to have you come home after such a long time and be nagging every damn thing is just ridiculous!”

“Hey…” Taking a few tentative steps forward, Jake winced when you backed away even further, just out of his reach. “Love, try some deep breaths, you’re getting yourself worked up…”

No matter how much purposeful breathing you forced yourself through, it did little to suppress the fountain of emotions you had successfully kept at bay up until that point. With your mind whirlpooling and the sensation of heated frustration making your skin itch something awful, you grabbed your jacket off its hook and stormed out of the apartment. 

“Kid? No–Wait! It’s too dark outside! You don’t even have your shoes on!”

Though Marc was more conscious of when you clearly didn’t want to be touched, he refused to let you out of the apartment in such a state. 

Grabbing your jacket sleeve firmly, he pulled you back inside, closing the door and blocking it off with his body. 

“Get out of my way! I don’t want to be here right now!”

Keeping his back firmly against the door, it took a considerable amount of effort for Marc to actually keep you from shoving him out of the way. 

“No way in hell I’m letting you out like this!” Becoming rather annoyed with just how determined you were, trying to get out of the apartment by force alone, Marc gripped your shoulders, giving you a slight shake. “Kid, just listen for a few minutes okay?!”

“Can you guys be home for more than just a few minutes?!” Feeling the tension in the air solidify with every word exchanged, you found it nearly impossible to keep that jab from leaving your mouth. 

Marc's grip on your shoulders remained firm, grounding you in the moment even as your emotions threatened to spiral further out of control.

With a deep exhale, you closed your eyes briefly, attempting to gather the remnants of your composure; "I just need some air." You muttered, your voice a mix of frustration and desperation.

“It’s way too late at night, and we really don’t feel like you’d be safe out there like this…” Keeping you in his grasp, Marc walked you back to your room, sitting next to you on the end of your bed. 

The silence that pursued seemed to stretch out for miles, leaving you both in an aching limbo. 

“Did it really feel like we were gone for that long?”

He sounded so genuinely earnest in his question, like the passing of nearly a whole year was merely a drop in the bucket. 

“Yes.” You admitted with a bitter sigh. “I know you all have been trying to take care of me from behind the scenes, but it’s been forever since I saw you all last. And here you are, out of nowhere and the first thing I hear are lectures on getting home late.”

Shifting his grip on you, Marc pulled you close to him, his own anxiety lessened greatly when you stayed put. 

“We just kind of panicked.” He explained quietly. “I know it felt like we weren’t ever here, but we were always making sure you were safe and taken care of. And just to see you were completely gone the night we came home.”

“It feels a bit like whiplash.” Still in his embrace, you could feel him tense slightly. “First you’re all gone, and it feels like you’ve forgotten I exist and when you’re here it's absolutely suffocating, just for you guys to disappear for months.”

Marc's grip on you grew firmer, his own frustration mirroring your own. "I get it, kid. I do. But we're here now, okay? We'll work through this together, we just need some time here and there.”

But even as his words registered, you couldn't shake the lingering sense of loneliness that had settled in your chest. 

“You say that, but for all my life…I’ve hardly seen any of you. ” Pulling free from his grasp, you kept your gaze fixed on the ground. “Look…I’m going to get some air. Sorry I even brought this up, I should have just kept my mouth shut.”

As you made your way quickly to the door, you could hear Marc coming up behind you. “And do not follow me. I think we know at this point I can watch my own back without you three around.”

You could hear them struggling to find the right and proper words. Slipping on your sneakers from near the doorway, you rushed out and onto the sidewalk. 

And with a quick glance up at the apartment, you could see all the lights had been turned off. 

They had left. Again. 

#moon knight #moon boys #moon dads #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #platonic

[theseawakes]

The writer's blessing:

May you write 1,500 words with ease. May your characters be lively and not cardboard. May you need little editing. May your muse visit you as soon as you sit. May the Internet not distract you much. May your phone lie dormant while you write.

[theseawakes]

i'm seeing people losing hope for palestine i'm begging you seriously please don't. the death toll is high but there are still people alive, there are still journalists risking everything to make sure the world sees what is happening. please continue protesting if you have the option to, keep demanding for a ceasefire and keep talking about palestinians both alive and dead. you have to keep going until the very end or else you really did fail them.

[theseawakes]

repeat after me

I WILL FINISH MY WIP

I WILL FINISH MY WIP

I WILL FINISH MY WIP

[theseawakes]

[theseawakes]

no way my irl writing friend sent me the most 2014 tumblr pic I've received in 2023

#he doesn’t even use tumblr #I've been really slacking #sorry for the lack of writing #writing memes #writeblr #doctor who #bbc sherlock

[theseawakes]

tag if you ever go thru a “&” relationship tag on ao3

#*raises hand* #ao3 tags

[theseawakes]

percy being told that you burn what you'll miss the most and immediately burning his blue jelly beans to talk to his mom. i don't think anyone understands how much of a big deal this is to me

#percy jackson #pjo #pjotv spoilers

[theseawakes]

please donate to get e-sims to gazans

gazans don’t just need these e-sims to contact the world. they need them to contact other people during their worst and loneliest hours.

i can’t even imagine how it must feel, to be so afraid and alone. to just need someone to talk to.

we often call friends and family to talk to when just we’re having a bad day. and this… these people are living day by day, unsure about the next hour, surrounded by screams, bombs, artillery and rubble.

gazans need to connect now more than ever. not just to tell their stories, but to connect to other humans. to feel a semblance of normalcy in the devastation around them. to have some sort of comfort amidst all the destruction. to be able to contact their family members and make sure they’re okay. to hear their voices. to keep their hopes and spirit alive.

please please donate. please help connect gaza. please reach out and let them know you’re there.

please keep talking about them. keep posting. keep protesting. keep connecting with them, and connecting them with the rest of the world. don’t let anyone forget what’s been happening to them for even a second. the world has spent almost a century in ignorance and silence, but not anymore!

don’t let their oppressors isolate them. israel is trying their best to break their spirit. don’t let them. we must stand with the palestinians and let them know we’re with them until the very end.

the palestinian cause is our cause. their fight is our fight.

remind them that they’re not alone. don’t you dare give up. not when they’re still fighting. and even if they stop.

don’t stop until palestine is free.

-6/12/23-

[theseawakes]

Don't stop talking about them. We need to be their voice.

Inspired by the amazing poem by dana

[theseawakes]

how you can help palestine

*i regularly update this post with any new info i find so please always reblog the original post*

Donations

donations currently reaching gaza:

help buy e-sims for people in gaza (PLEASE HELP CONNECT GAZANS TO THE WORLD. if you would like to stay updated, please follow @/Mirna_elhelbawi on twitter)

currently holafly e-sims are needed. please donate.

donate to get food packages to gaza - care for gaza

support palestinians: buy a keffiyeh from the last and only factory in palestine - hirbawi

secondary donations:

palestine children's relief fund

palestine red crescent society

save palestine - islamic relief canada

send medical supplies to gaza - palestinian american medical association

click to donate - arab.org

donate for the recovery of hisham awartani - gofundme

one of the three palestinian students shot by a racist in vermont for wearing kufiyas and speaking arabic. hisham’s injuries have left him paralysed from below the chest.

help bring down israel's weapon trade - palaction

NOTE: journalists based in gaza are saying a demand for ceasefire is the priority as not all donations are reaching gazans (focus on the donations that are directly reaching gaza). so please contact your local MPs every single day demanding as such. palestine need a permanent ceasefire.

Petitions

petition to investigate war crimes committed by israeli military

demand ceasefire - amnesty.org

open call for immediate ceasefire

american government call for immediate ceasefire

american government to stop funding israeli military

ceasefire and increase humanitarian assistance - oxfam au

petition to get canva to address their pro-israel stance

invoke the genocide convention to call for ceasefire in gaza - world beyond war

location specific petitions

gaza call for ceasefire - oxfam (UK)

end israeli occupation - parliament uk (UK)

email your MP - medical aid for palestine (UK)

protect gaza civilians - islamic relief (UK)

stop fuelling genocide - action network (USA)

@ biden: call for ceasefire now - move on (USA)

ceasefirenow.com - jewishvoiceofpeace (USA)

call congress and demand a ceasefire - uscpr (USA - they provide a script of what you should say, so don't worry about it)

note: you can call everyday. they tally the number of calls per issue. so more calls = higher chance for them to take action. p.s. you mainly go to voicemail so don’t worry about phone call anxiety. fight through it just this once please.

australia call on israel to stop attacking palestinians - apan (AUS)

immediate ceasefire and increase in humanitarian aid in gaza - actionaid (AUS)

email your MPs - stand with palestine (AUS)

[EN5622] call for ceasefire and end to occupation - parliament of australia (AUS)

closes 13 dec @ 8.59pm AEST

[EN5628] retract governmental support to israel and demand ceasefire - parliament of australia (AUS)

closes 13 dec @ 8.59pm AEST

sign to send letter to MP for ceasefire - nccm (CANADA)

ceasefire now! - ijv (CANADA)

ceasefire and allow aid to enter gaza - oxfam (CANADA)

house of commons petition 4661 (CANADA)

closes 9 dec @ 11.03am EDT

cessez-le-feu et un couloir humanitaire - le mouvement (FRANCE)

write to your député - assemblée nationale (FRANCE)

skydda civilbefolkningen i gaza! - mittskifte (SWEDEN)

singaporeans call for immediate ceasefire (SIN)

contact your elected reps and demand a ceasefire (GERMANY)

write to the EU demanding a ceasefire (EUROPE)

template of letters you can send (EU)

guide on how to contact your MPs in EU

p.s. if the template is outdated, just use it as a guide and add a few sentences here and there that reflect the current situation. i can’t find any recent templates so :/ at least this is something

multiple actions you can take to help palestine - plant een olifbloom (NETHERLANDS)

includes: links for donations, emails to MP, emails to media, links to petitions and demonstrations

den haag, maak nú werk van vrede in israël/Palestina - the right forum (NETHERLANDS)

māori call for palestine - ourActionStation (NZ)

special visa for palestinians in gaza with family in NZ - NZ parliament/pāremata aotearoa (NZ)

deem israeli actions as war crimes - NZ parliament/pāremata aotearoa (NZ)

basta ao genocídio em Gaza! - awaaz (BRAZIL)

globo e grande mídia, parem de desumanizar civis palestinos - the intercept (BRAZIL)

Campaigns

friends of al-aqsa

❥ UK-specific

urge your MP to speak up for palestine

hands off al-aqsa

stop administrative detention

petition for UK to stop arming israel

❥ International

boycott puma — email them to end their partnership with israel

boycott coca-cola

palestine action

join the resistance

islamic relief canada

urge your MP to rally for ceasefire

decolonise palestine

poster campaign to raise awareness on the war crimes being committed against palestinians | (very very important please share + read the sources provided)

text/call campaign for people living in USA

text CEASEFIRE @ 51905 to call for a ceasefire

text RESIST @ 50409 to send a letter to your representatives to pass HR3103–a bill that prohibits tax dollars from going to israel

download 5Calls app to contact members of your congress | (more info)

fax campaign for people in the USA

go on this website to send 5 free faxes per day

here’s a link to a pre-written fax copy you can download to send (the first link on the linktree)

here’s a video that explains how to fax your senator (it’s very easy and all you need is a valid email address)

BDS movement

get involved in boycotting companies associated with israel

please let me know if you have any more links. i will add them in. and please reblog the original post!!

UPCOMING PROTESTS

PALESTINIAN LITERATURE READING LIST

[theseawakes]

"A Child’s View from Gaza" was an art exhibition showcasing drawings created by the children of Gaza.

"The captioned illustrations were created by Palestinian children who lived through the Israeli bombardment of Gaza in 2008-09. The pictures were drawn as part of an effort to help children deal with the horrors they had experienced. A Bay Area nonprofit, Middle East Children’s Alliance (MECA), arranged to display a collection of these pictures at the Museum of Children’s Art in Oakland, California. However, under pressure from the Jewish Federation of the East Bay and other organizations, the museum backed out of the agreement at the last minute."

#the sun crying #the trees crying #the birds bleeding #from the river to the sea palestine will be free #palestine #gaza

[theseawakes]

GET HUGGED BACK @blustalker 🫂🩵

also hugging you guys even if we, too, barely talk <3 @andromacher @panic-in-the-multiverse

do care + did ask + im hugging you + im hugging you + im hugging you + im hugging you + im hugging you

[theseawakes]

Dear Mr. Gaiman,

I hope you are doing well. I'm sending this ask again for the fourth time because the first three don't seem to have reached you. It's OK if you don't answer though.

1) I keep plagiarizing accidentally and it's frustrating me. I came up with "Crying has always fascinated me as a concept. It is the first thing humans do after getting out of the womb. I wonder why they think it’s a sign of weakness, when it’s what proves that they’re alive!” and was rather proud to have written it only to find out some weeks later that Charlotte Brönte wrote a similar thing in Jane Eyre. I'm certain that I have never read this line before in my life, let alone the book. I also wrote the line "I loved you like a blind preacher in a godless temple", then realized that I came up with it while thinking about this comic called, The God of Arepo. And then I found out from your reply to an ask that you have a gay character called Foxglove. Coincidentally, my main character has the same name and the same sexual orientation. If all my new ideas are just other people's ideas recycled, am I still a writer?

2) Now, a sillier question: I was in a state between awake and asleep and for some reason, when I heard Aziraphale's voice whisper, "Sometimes it takes more than a snap of the fingers to perform a miracle." I don't understand how or why or if this is grammatically accurate. Have you ever written such a quote before? (If not, can I keep it?) If yes, what does it mean?

Please forgive me for wasting your time with a long ask.

Sincerely,

A confused, teenage writer

It's not plagiarism when you notice that someone else said something similar to you after you wrote it. That's just you living in world in which lots of people have made a lot of art for thousands of years. Plagiarism is when you read something and then write that thing pretending it's yours.

And the quotes you bring back from dreams are free.

#neil gaiman #as another confused teenage writier #I'm so assured #good omens #the sandman

[theseawakes]

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