new video circulating of an israeli soldier having broken into a palestinian family’s home and going through the wife’s intimates while degrading and slut-shaming her for… wearing underwear? owning lingerie to share with her husband? i don’t understand what his disgust was about considering he feels none at all at being a genocidal psychopath who celebrates, if not partakes in, inflicting all kinds of abuse and torture. maybe the fact that palestinians are normal people? who have relationships? maybe it’s jealousy because he knows will never have a loving relationship, who knows. and quite frankly, who cares.
the point is that it is literally an intrusion into one of the most personal aspects of palestinians’ lives. it is another act of defiling and tarnishing everything and anything palestinians hold dear, like all the other iof soldiers proposing and announcing marriage dates amidst the rubble of the palestinian homes they destroyed, israeli celebrities and soldiers signing missiles and bombs to be dropped on palestinians with ‘good luck!!!’s and birthday dedications, israeli settlers singing and dancing to lyrics promoting genocide, israeli soldiers laughing as they detonate bombs in mosques and other buildings, planting israeli flags on schools they bombed.
every step an ‘israeli’ takes on palestinian land feels like a personal physical violation, even to me, a non-palestinian. and then people question why palestinians resist. they have been being violated like this, physically and psychologically, for over 75 years.
"just how bad is gaza? a study just concluded the "civilian proportion of deaths is HIGHER THAN THAT IN ALL WORLD CONFLICTS IN 20TH CENTURY". and that's 20TH CENTURY, you know, the one with both world wars. the horror we're seeing is truly unprecedented" — via pomegranates on instagram
No matter how zionists try to appeal to you or pull on your heartstrings, do not listen to them. Israel is an illegitamate and colonial state.
And on the other hand, beware of supporting posts that claim to be antizionist, but are thinly veiled antisemitic conspiracy theories. Innocent jewish people are not at fault for the Israeli government's crimes.
Antizionism ≠ Antisemitism. You can be against Israel without blaming innocent jewish people.
Be critical of what you read, be careful with what you post, and always make sure to get your information from trustworthy sources.
A/N: Happy Fic Anniversary! This chapter is almost 10k words, so you might uhh, wanna grab a snack and a blanket before you sit down with it lol
The title track for this one is Dance With Me by Alphaville - regular version for the first half of the chapter, and the piano version right here goes with the end :3
Visuals for this chapter (pls read the chapter first though <3)
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN - DANCE WITH ME
“No, too plain!” Columbina shook her head as she took away the dress she was holding up in front of me before I could even get a proper look at it.
“We need something a bit more…” she waved her hands around vaguely, “not this, in any case.”
I had been trailing after her for the past twenty minutes as she floated through the aisles of what must be the capital’s largest and most luxurious boutique, immediately shooting down any and all suggestions the poor shopkeeper presented.
“Little Dove,” she chirped as she ushered me towards the lavish changing room, “I have a better idea.” Columbina maneuvered me to sit on the plush velvet chaise longue, pushing me into the cushions with more force and determination than her petite figure would suggest.
“You wait here while I look through their selection myself. That woman out there does not seem to grasp the importance of our visit, judging from the dresses she’s shown us so far.”
Before I could even do so much as open my mouth, she was gone already, leaving a gentle breeze in her wake. It was probably for the best like that, I mused. Not like I could be of much help right now, with my limited knowledge on fashion, specifically ball gowns.
As I waited, my thoughts soon drifted back to the reason why I even found myself in this situation now.
»»————-————-««
“There is… something I wanted to ask you.”
“Oh- sure, what is it?” I asked, trying to keep my voice light.
His behavior all day had been decisively odd, and while I had been doing my best to keep a clear head throughout all of that, my heart still beat faster at his words. Something was up.
Zandik hesitated, the determination from moments ago already escaping his grasp again as he fumbled with his words.
“The Tsaritsa is going to hold a… celebratory ball. You know as well as I do that I have better things to do than entertain something as ridiculous as that, but unfortunately I’m being forced to attend.”
A Ball?
With bated breath I waited for him to continue. I had a faint idea where this was going, but I didn’t want to get ahead of myself.
With a deep sigh, he looked up to the ceiling, then to me for a second before looking away, the faintest blush dusting his cheeks.
“As if that’s not stupid enough already, the Harbingers are…. required to bring a plus one for this event. It’s going to be incredibly tedious and boring and under normal circumstances I’d have sent a Segment in my stead, but as things are now, my hands are tied, unfortunately.”
He paused once more, taking in a deep breath as if he was preparing himself to rip off a bandaid.
“You don’t have to say anything right now, but… would you… would you accompany me?”
Zandik finally looked up to meet my eyes. Light pink covered his cheeks as our eyes locked, and for a moment, he looked so helpless that I couldn’t help but giggle.
Cute.
“Of course I’ll go with you,” I laughed, unable to mask my excitement, “It sounds fun, actually!”
With wide eyes, he stared at me as if my response was the last thing he would have expected.
»»————-————-««
"I'm baaack~!" The bright chime of Columbina's voice brought me back to the present. Looking up, I saw my friend enter the changing room, her tiny figure buried beneath heaps of lace and tulle.
“You’ve got to try this one, sweetie!” she called, voice bubbling with excitement. A moment of rustling fabric followed, until she finally held up the dress by the hanger for me to admire.
The gown was a dusty pastel pink, with a strapless bodice made of extravagantly draped pieces of lace and stiff mesh. A big, floor length skirt that looked as if it required at least three petticoats connected at the waist, appearing almost like a cloud with its alternating layers of ruffled tulle and lace. To top everything off, the entire thing was covered in intricate glittering embroidery and tiny shimmering pearls.
I gulped.
Not giving me a moment to speak, my friend urged me to quickly take off my clothes so I could step into the dress.
A few tugs on fastenings and laces later, Columbina stepped back to let me turn to the large mirror.
“It’s beautiful, Bina,” I started, hesitating as I carefully considered my next words. “But… I’m not sure if this is really… me?” Hoping she would understand my point, I gave her an apologetic smile.
“Oh but you look ravishing in this, darling! The color brings out your hair and skin tone perfectly!” she chirped, cocking her head to the side.
I sighed. “I’m sure it does. But I just… I don’t feel comfortable in it, you know? It’s so…” I gestured vaguely, “dramatic, so much…”
That was putting it mildly. Between the stiff lace against my chest, the tightly laced waist and the heavy weight of the skirts, I felt like I was drowning in the dress.
Columbina was quiet for a long moment that made me feel even more uncomfortable. I resisted the urge to scratch my skin where the edge of the lace trim brushed against me.
Finally, she spoke.
“You do realize what kind of event this is, right? There are… certain expectations to be met. Especially since you’re going to be there as a Harbinger’s date.”
“I’m not his date, Bina!” I blurted out, my face heating up, “This is- this is work. We’re going as colleagues, friends at most—”
“Yeah, sure, if you say so,” she giggled, obviously not listening to a word I said. Her expression relaxed as she pondered something, idly stroking her chin.
“Hmmm… let’s see, I’m sure I can find something that both suits you and your wishes and is appropriate for the ball…” she mused, more to herself than anything.
She returned after only a few minutes, and from the way she all but danced into the changing room, I could assume she found something interesting.
“Close your eyes, Little Dove! You’re going to love this!” She was so giddy that it was hard for me to hold back a smile. I closed my eyes just when the door opened again and the shopkeeper made her way inside with what had to be the dress in question. The last thing I saw was a flash of light blue poking out of the protective covering in the woman’s arms.
Dutifully keeping my eyes shut, I let the two women maneuver me around to put the dress on me. It felt light, almost weightless, a stark contrast to the stiff gown from before. A few gentle tugs on laces in the back brought in the waist, and soon after I heard the shopkeeper excuse herself and leave the room. Columbina turned me around with a firm grip on my shoulders and stepped behind me. “Open your eyes,” she whispered into my ear.
A gasp left me when my gaze fell upon my reflection in the tall mirror before me.
Soft light blue chiffon flowed down my figure, held up by slim silk straps on my shoulders. Draped ruffles of the same fabric formed the sleeves, while elegant silver embroidery decorated the bodice. The dress hugged my body just right; the low (but not too low) v-shaped neckline and the subtle lace trim around the hem of the floor-length skirt pulled everything together perfectly.
My heart did a small flip when I realized the color was almost identical to Zandik’s hair.
Behind me, Columbina let out a gleeful squeal. “You look stunning, darling!! This color looks so good on you too! Hehe, it actually reminds me of someone~”
I blushed at her comment and cleared my throat to hide my embarrassment.
“Thank you. I love it, I really do. I don’t think I’ve ever seen myself like this, to be honest—”
“Then I’m glad,” she replied, her smile uncharacteristically gentle, before turning around to retrieve a box from a side table.
“Here, put these on,” she said as she handed me the box.
Opening the lid, I found a pair of matching shoes. The same light blue, the same silver embroidery, and elegant medium high heels made of golden metal of all things. I couldn’t hide the little smile that tugged on my lips as I slipped them on.
Admiring my reflection once more, a warm feeling spread through me as I allowed myself, for only a moment, to imagine how Zandik’s hands would feel around my waist as we danced.
»»————-————-««
Almost time, Zandik noted after a quick glance at the clock before he returned his attention back to the mirror in front of him. He was almost ready, having just finished tying his cravat and securing the deep blue silk with a golden rhombic pin, when a chime sounded through his quarters, alerting him of a visitor outside his study. A long overdue feature he had wasted no time to install after Pantalone’s surprise visit two weeks ago.
“This better not be that four-eyed moron again,” he grumbled as he made his way to answer the door. To his relief, Zandik was only met with the timid figure of a servant instead of the Ninth’s smug face.
“A delivery for you, Lord Harbinger,” they announced, bowing deeply while holding out a small package for him.
His brow raised, he took the box from the servant’s hands and dismissed them with a curt nod. Turning back inside, Zandik studied the package curiously. A small, rectangular box, maybe as long as a pen and not much wider, covered in elegant black satin and topped off with a subtle blue bow. It didn’t feel very heavy in his hand either.
Untying the ribbon as he moved over to the couch, he let it drop onto the coffee table before carefully opening the lid of the box.
“Oh? What–” he mumbled, taking out the shining object and raising it up to his eyes to study it.
An earring?
It was exactly the same size and weight as his old one, and kept in the same colors as well; gleaming gold encasing a shimmering blue gemstone. But the design had to be custom made. How else could one explain the elegant sharp lines, reminiscent of Deshret’s creations, and of course many of Zandik’s own belongings? What…?
He checked the box again. Sure enough, he found a small slip of paper upon closer inspection, neatly folded and tucked between the box and the velvet cushion used to protect the piece of jewelry.
Taking it out, Zandik immediately recognized the handwriting, clean and factual, but distinctively feminine nonetheless. He read the scribbled words once, twice, then a third time, before neatly folding the note and slipping it into his pocket.
Smiling to himself, he secured the earring where it belonged before he rose from his seat, putting on his suit jacket on the way out.
»»————-————-««
Idly sipping on a glass of Dandelion Wine, Zandik let his masked gaze wander around the lavishly decorated ballroom. Even though he did not care much for aesthetics, he had to admit Pantalone had outdone himself yet again with this event. A group of strings and a pianist, all without a doubt handpicked by the Ninth, were situated on a raised platform in one corner of the room and currently filled the air with subtle melodies, a nice background noise while the guests were busy mingling and chatting.
“Look at that loser over there,” Sandrone’s voice grated, causing Zandik’s attention to snap back to the small group of people surrounding him. Without moving his head, he glanced over to where she was pointing, finding Tartaglia slouching on a nearby barstool, his expression looking like he had just been denied a duel.
“What’s the matter, dumbass? Did Girlie dump you again?” she cackled, laughing so hard she almost fell off the hand of the Automaton carrying her around.
“Please, Sandrone, would it hurt you to be civil for once?” Pantalone sighed at her theatrics, to which the engineer only rolled her eyes dramatically before her Ruin Guard took her away with stomping feet. “We’re here to celebrate another victory, after all.”
Zandik scoffed. “Sure, some celebration this is, when I’m stuck here with you lot…” he muttered under his breath.
The banker smirked. “I don’t see why you of all people have a reason to complain, Doctor, with your lovely companion for tonight… I’m sure you must at least be looking forward to that, no?”
Clearing his throat, Zandik turned his head to the side, hoping to mask the blush creeping onto his face.
“Speaking of,” Columbina’s bright voice chimed in, “where is your wife tonight, Regrator? I was looking forward to sneak a peek at that lovely coat of hers again!”
Pantalone gave her a taut smile in return. “I’m afraid she couldn’t make the trip on such short notice, the Qixing are keeping her exceptionally busy around this time of the year. Besides,” he paused to push up his spectacles with one hand, golden iris flashing at Zandik for a split second, “I prefer watching people at these occasions anyway.”
Underneath his mask, Zandik frowned. “What was all that talk about us being required to bring a plus one then, when all of you showed up alone?” he asked, suspicion evident in his tone.
“I didn’t come alone!” Columbina protested, grabbing Arlecchino’s arm next to her and waving it around as proof.
Pantalone chuckled, “I must say, for a man of your intellect, you can be astoundingly gullible at times, my dearest Doctor~”
“Wha— Oh, you little—” Zandik growled, already taking a step towards the banker.
But before he could get within reach to wipe the smug grin off his colleague’s face, Columbina let out a surprised gasp.
“Look, she’s here!”
Zandik froze as her words registered in his mind, before he straightened and turned towards the entrance.
There, atop the grand stairs that led down into the ballroom, she was, clad in a shimmering light blue gown that flowed down her form like the icy water of a mountain stream. Visibly overwhelmed by the lights and opulent decor, her gaze wandered around the room, taking in the sight while scanning the crowd.
Then, she spotted him, eyes locking with his despite his mask, and for a moment, Zandik felt like his legs might give out beneath him as his heart skipped a few beats. A wide smile spread across her face as she began to descend the stairs.
Zandik faintly noticed some of his fellow Harbingers around him giggle quietly and exchange looks with each other, but none of that truly registered in his mind now.
“Don’t forget to breathe, Doctor,” Columbina teased.
“Dottore,” Pantalone whispered, leaning in to deliver a thinly veiled threat right into Zandik’s ear, “if you don’t at the very least compliment her outfit, I’m going to withhold your funding. Now please try to not make a fool of yourself~”
“I hope you choke on your drink, four-eyes,” Zandik hissed back before schooling his expression into a polite smile as he steeled himself for what was about to happen.
He knew court etiquette like the back of his hand and had exchanged greetings at balls countless times over the centuries, and yet he couldn’t quite shake the nervousness clawing at his throat as she walked up to him, a coy smile gracing her lips and a soft rosy blush coloring her cheeks.
She finally came to a halt before him. Carefully bunching up the fabric of her skirt in her hands, she gracefully bent down to a low curtsy.
“Lord Dottore,” she greeted him as she rose back up, extending her hand towards him.
Suddenly painfully aware of the many eyes glued to them, Zandik swallowed dryly as he took her offered hand. Respectfully bowing down, his lips brushed the ghost of a kiss against her knuckles. He straightened his back, and found her watching him, a light smile dancing on her lips, but her expression otherwise unreadable. Zandik hadn’t even realized how his hand lingered on hers for a moment longer than what was appropriate, until someone nearby cleared their throat.
“Well, Doctor? Won’t you introduce us?”
»»————-————-««
My breath hitched when I finally spotted Zandik’s teal locks from my position at the top of the stairs. He was already looking up towards me, and even though his gaze was hidden behind his mask, I was certain our eyes locked for a moment. My lips spread into a giddy smile as I descended the stairs, careful not to trip over my long skirt.
Being born in Fontaine, court etiquette had been drilled into me from a young age, so I was fully aware of what was expected in this setting. A polite greeting, curtsy, bow and a hand-kiss. Simple enough, and yet, as mentally prepared as I may have been, my heart still skipped when Zandik’s lips brushed my hand, the touch so feather-light that I might as well have imagined it. My lips parted in silent awe as I took that moment to admire him.
He wore a dark, almost black suit, the jacket cut slightly longer; a brocade waistcoat underneath that was just as dark, and a black dress shirt. Blue and gleaming golden accents broke up the slim-cut outfit, and an opulent blue-and-gold feather sat pinned on his lapel.
His hand lingered on mine for a tad too long to be considered proper, and it almost felt like tingling little waves of warmth pulsed through where our skin touched, spreading up my arm into my entire body.
Someone nearby cleared their throat, breaking our little moment. Zandik immediately dropped my hand, and both of us took a step back.
“Well, Doctor? Won’t you introduce us?”
Tearing my gaze away from Zandik, I saw a tall woman with striking black-and-white hair approach me, her hand outstretched and an amused smile gracing her sharp features.
“Allow me, Mademoiselle. Arlecchino, or The Knave. Number Four of the Harbingers. It’s a pleasure to see a new face around, and a fellow Fontainian at that.” She inclined her head as she shook my hand, her grasp firm and resolute.
After greetings and pleasantries had been exchanged with everyone, the other Harbingers around us soon fell back into idle chatter. I could sense that Zandik next to me was tense, and I couldn’t blame him. I wasn’t faring much better. Neither of us were particularly fond of social situations, and the fact that we had to keep up a somewhat professional front did not help matters.
“It’s good to see you,” he mumbled, quiet enough so that only I could hear him, “I was already about to lose my mind surrounded by those morons, and the ball hasn’t even started properly.”
I chuckled lightly. Knowing the bickering that usually occurred whenever Pantalone was near him, I could imagine what happened if Zandik was forced to be around several of his colleagues for an extended period of time.
“But they can’t all be that bad, now can they?” I asked.
He clicked his tongue, “You have no idea…”
I hummed, before falling silent to observe him from the corner of my eye for a moment. He looked so good, dressed formally like this, that I was unsure how I should keep myself from staring at him constantly for the rest of the night. Zandik inclined his head a fraction towards me, and I could feel his masked gaze on me.
“I must say,” I began, turning around so my back faced the rest of the group and I could watch him as well, “that earring goes perfectly with the rest of your attire tonight, Sir.”
I sent him a teasing smirk as he froze momentarily, before his mouth quirked up a fraction and he parted his lips to speak.
Unfortunately, I didn't get to hear his reply.
“Lord Dottore, forgive me for interrupting.” A hooded Pyro Agent approached him from the side, bowing respectfully as he spoke.
“Your presence is required elsewhere. Lord Pierro wishes to speak to you,” the man announced.
Zandik’s jaw tensed, his lips now set into a firm line.
“Of course,” he replied flatly, “I’ll be there shortly.”
The Agent nodded and departed after another short bow.
Turning back to me, Zandik muttered, “My apologies. I suppose I cannot avoid official obligations any longer.”
“It’s okay,” I said, giving him a reassuring smile, “do what you have to, before he comes over to personally drag you away…”
With a small huffed laugh, Zandik turned on his heel and quickly disappeared into the crowd.
»»————-————-««
I was not left to my own devices for very long. Within a few minutes of Zandik's departure, Columbina appeared in front of me, an unsettlingly wide grin on her face.
"Come, Little Dove, let me show you around! You have to meet everyone!"
Without waiting for my response, she promptly grabbed my arm and dragged me off into the crowd.
She grabbed two glasses off the tray of the first waiter we encountered, and forced one into my hand. I took a tentative sip to taste the undoubtedly expensive drink.
Columbina giggled, "Don't look so glum, darling, no one is trying to poison you! That's sparkling Dandelion Wine, Pantalone had it imported from Mondstadt, just for tonight!"
Once my tongue got used to the fizzy, slightly tangy texture, it was actually quite tasty.
As Columbina's veiled gaze scanned over the guests, I spotted Zandik a good distance away next to Pierro and another equally tall man who for some reason wore a helmet that completely obscured his face. Before I could take so much as another glance, Columbina next to me cooed and tugged me away on my arm.
She came to a halt in front of a young man with tousled ginger hair. He was leaning back against the wall and seemed to be very occupied with moodily staring at the contents of his glass, but perked up once he noticed us approaching.
"Well, look who it is," he drawled, a big grin on his face, "did our resident creepy bitch drag another unsuspecting victim into her schemes?"
Columbina groaned dramatically, "Oh shut up, would you? Besides," she added, lightly pushing me forward, "she is actually not mine to play with! Childe, this is Dottore's assistant, be nice to her!"
His face lit up at her words. "Oh! I've heard about you!"
I shook his offered hand. "Only good things, I hope. Pleasure to meet you.”
Childe laughed, “Oh, don’t worry. Although I keep wondering how that lunatic Doctor hasn’t cut you into pieces or hooked you up to some fucked up experiment yet… What’s your secret? Are you perhaps just as crazy as he is?”
I shot him a weird look, my brow raised. I still found it hard to comprehend how Zandik’s reputation differed so extremely from how he actually was, but then again… For a moment, I remembered how he attacked me in my first week, and how he tended to speak to subordinates.
I smirked, deciding not to comment on the ginger’s jab. I had to admit that I quite liked being among the very few who knew the “real” Dottore.
“Alllriiiight, now if you’ll excuse us, we have more people to meet~” Columbina chirped before either of us could say another word. I could only manage an apologetic smile in Childe’s direction before I got dragged away once more by my friend.
It seemed like the people we were going to meet next were Pierro and the man with the dark helmet. They stood out from the crowd in every possible sense, tall and imposing, authority written all over them.
To my disappointment, Zandik was nowhere to be seen now.
Introductions were made, and I found out that Pierro’s companion was in fact the First Harbinger, Capitano. In stark contrast to his intimidating appearance, he was a gallant man who immediately treated me with utmost respect. Our conversation was cut short once two giggling women in opulent ball gowns emerged from the crowd to join our little group, adoring eyes gazing up at the men as they returned to their partner’s sides. Columbina smiled warmly and excused us before pulling me away.
I looked around the room in hopes of catching another glimpse of Zandik’s teal locks, but got distracted momentarily when I noticed what seemed to be a modified Ruin Guard in a far corner. The automaton was carrying a young woman on its open palm, the size difference and her frilly dress making her appear almost doll-like. Brow raised, I turned to my friend.
“Who’s that over there?”
Columbina sighed. “That’s Sandrone. She’s a Harbinger as well, but I’d rather not talk to her right now. She tends to… drag down the mood a bit too much.”
Nodding, I let my gaze travel further, briefly seeing a flicker of light blue hair before the crowd shifted and blocked my view again.
Next to me, Columbina let out a small giggle, “Oh come on, darling, you’re still going to see enough of him later! I want to spend time with you too!”
I cleared my throat, feeling the heat creep up my neck as I quickly forced my attention back to her.
Our next stop was a small elderly man with long pointed ears and a just as long and pointed nose. I vaguely recalled having heard tales of a long-lived race of unknown origins that shared these characteristics. The man introduced himself as Pulcinella, The Rooster, 5th of the Harbingers. His demeanor was warm and grandfatherly, and judging from the way Columbina spoke to him, he seemed to be held in high regard even by his higher-ranking colleagues. I tried my best to follow the conversation, but kept getting distracted by the view every time I looked up and behind him.
There he was, his back half-turned to me as he spoke to Pantalone not too far from us. Assuming from the way his jaw tensed and the banker’s vicious smile, they were once again busy bickering. Zandik turned his head slightly, and I quickly averted my eyes, trying to bring my attention back to whatever Columbina and Pulcinella were discussing. I couldn’t help but try to sneak a few more glances at Zandik, eventually having to tear my gaze from him as he stepped away from Pantalone and disappeared into the crowd a few minutes later.
Pulcinella shot me a knowing smile as we excused ourselves not long after.
“Oh, she’s here now – Look!” Columbina noted and pointed to a spot high up on a balcony that overlooked the entire ballroom.
Following her gaze, I saw a pale, frail looking woman sitting on what looked like a throne made of pure ice. Everything about her appeared cold, from the colors of her hair and dress to the way her apathetic gaze seemed to go right through whatever came into her line of sight. She must once have been beautiful, but now looked like she was nothing more than an empty husk, a mere shadow of former glory.
I swallowed. “Is that… the Tsaritsa?” I asked my friend, briefly tearing my gaze away from the eerie picture atop that balcony.
Columbina nodded, her smile strained for a moment. “I suppose you are familiar with what people say? That the Goddess of Love no longer holds any love, not even for her own people? Now all she cares about is upholding at least some appearances, hence this ball – everything else concerning the fate of Snezhnaja is handled by Pierro and the rest of us Harbingers.”
“I didn’t realize…” I mumbled, but trailed off as my friend let out a light laugh.
“Nothing to concern yourself with, not tonight,” she chimed, patting my hand as she steered me away.
“Anyway,” Columbina said after a few more steps into a less crowded area, “do you mind if I leave you to yourself for a bit? There’s some things I have to take care of…”
“Oh, don’t worry about me,” I replied, giving her a reassuring smile, “I’ll be fine!”
“Perfect,” she grinned, “have fun, my Little Dove!”
I watched her airy figure skip away for a moment before directing my attention towards the couples on the dance floor, sipping the last droplets from my glass.
»»————-————-««
On a balcony just outside the ballroom.
Columbina let out a dramatic groan as she let herself slump over the railing overlooking the frozen palace grounds.
“It is so painful to watch them, Regrator! She was so busy trying to sneak glances at him that she couldn’t focus on a single word the entire time I was with her!”
With a heavy sigh, Pantalone took a long drag from his cigarette.
“Our dear Doctor is not faring much better, I’m afraid. He can’t take his eyes off her, but can’t even compliment her dress? And how he acted when she arrived at the ball? Please…”
Columbina snickered, “Yes, that was… quite the show indeed…” She paused to take a sip from her glass before turning to face the banker.
“I feel like she knows by now. The problem lies with Dottore.”
“I agree. It seems like at this point, she is only waiting for him to finally take action… But unfortunately, our dearest Doctor is still too dense to realize it,” the Ninth mused.
“We have to do something,” Columbina whined, frustration evident.
Pantalone nodded slowly and took one last drag of his cigarette before putting it out on the marble railing.
“I have an idea, something that might be enough to give him that final nudge he needs…”
His smile morphed into a wicked grin as he brushed off his jacket and ventured back inside, quickly disappearing into the crowd.
»»————-————-««
A wistful sigh slipped through my lips as I watched the twirling couples on the dancefloor. The Lords and Ladies of Snezhnaya’s high society painted a most opulent picture, rich colors and glittering jewels everywhere. The Jester and The Captain with their wives (as Columbina had told me earlier) still stood out amidst the pompous display, looking regal and dignified as they danced.
I looked up as I sensed a presence next to me, and was surprised to find Pantalone smiling at me.
“I see our lovely Damselette has finally released you from her clutches,” he chuckled, “Are you enjoying your night so far, my dear?”
I nodded lightly as I gave him a polite smile.
“I am, thank you. It was nice meeting everyone.” I paused to let my gaze sweep across the room, my eyes lingering briefly as I spotted Zandik with Pulcinella.
“You really did a magnificent job putting all this together, my Lord – Columbina told me you were responsible for organizing the event.”
“Thank you, dear. I must admit I would have preferred some more time for preparations, I usually plan these events months in advance, not within only two weeks…”
I hummed in agreement, following along with Pantalone’s idle chatter for a few minutes, until he suddenly cleared his throat.
Looking up, I found him lightly bowing down, his hand outstretched towards me.
“Mademoiselle, forgive me for being so forward, but would you like to dance? I couldn’t help but notice you watching the others, and I would be a poor excuse of a host if I did not try my best to make your time worthwhile.”
“Oh, uhm—” I hesitated, my eyes flicking over to where I last saw Zandik, the spot now void of any signs of him. I debated my options – One dance surely wouldn’t hurt, and I did not want to offend Pantalone, but also wasn’t exactly keen on dancing with him when I was actually hoping for someone else.
A chuckle reached my ears, prompting me to face him again, but he wasn’t even looking at me anymore. Instead, he seemed to be watching something over my shoulder with his good eye opened, gold reflecting off his frames.
“Ah, on second thought – perhaps another time would be better. I believe there is someone else who would like to speak to you.”
I felt someone brush past my shoulder before a familiar crop of blue hair came into view. Jaw tense, Zandik walked right up to his colleague.
“I thought you’d prefer watching?” he hissed, uncaring if anyone (including myself) could overhear.
Pantalone chuckled, a cryptic smile on his lips.
“That is true; and that is also exactly what I am going to do now, Doctor…”
The banker inclined his head towards me with a polite nod. “Please enjoy your night, Mademoiselle.” Another flash of gold reflected off his lenses before he finally stepped away, leaving me alone with Zandik.
Brow raised and an amused smirk dancing on my lips, I looked up at him, waiting for him to speak.
Zandik ran a hand through his hair as he let out an annoyed huff before lightly shaking his head and meeting my gaze.
“Apologies for taking so long,” he said, “apparently every single of these useless imbeciles here felt the need to congratulate me on something I didn’t even do.”
He frowned, “But no matter what, the last thing I want to happen is that four-eyed bastard getting his greedy hands on you.”
“It’s fine, don’t worry. He was just being polite really. But regardless, I’m glad you’re here now,” I replied, my lips quirked up in a soft smile.
He stared at me for a moment, lips parted ever so slightly.
I watched his throat bob as he swallowed thickly, his mouth opening and closing a few times before his jaw relaxed as he seemed to have reached a decision.
Zandik cleared his throat. “Do you… do you want to dance? With me?” he finally asked, the tips of his ears dusted pink.
Inside my chest, my heart did a little flip as a wide smile spread on my face.
“I’d love to!” I replied, unable to hold back my excitement.
Zandik let out a small relieved sigh as a faint smile settled on his lips.
As if on cue, I noticed how the final notes of the current song faded out. Zandik’s masked gaze shifted to the dance floor, then back to me, before he held out his hand for me to take.
“Shall we, my dear?”
With a smirk, and my heart beating up to my throat, I slipped my hand in his and let him lead me to the floor.
Another bow, another curtsy. My body moved on its own as I repeated the familiar motions. Ballroom dancing was another thing drilled into Fontainians from a young age; the etiquette associated with it straightforward and surprisingly void of the usual flourishes. I had danced before on many occasions, with friends, family and classmates at the Institute. And yet… No amount of experience could have prepared me for the electric warmth that flooded me and the way my heart beat in my throat when Zandik and I settled into position.
His hand enveloped my much smaller one in an unexpectedly gentle grasp, the warmth of his palm against mine grounding me just as much as it made my heart beat faster.
I placed my other hand on his shoulder blade, trying my best to ignore the way his muscles flexed underneath his suit jacket at my touch.
I felt his free hand hovering over my waist. Shifting my weight ever so slightly, I subtly pushed back until his fingers grazed the tulle of my dress and his palm pressed against my back, closing our position just in time for the first notes to trickle through the air.
My feet recognized the rhythm on their own accord, and the steps came easily as I followed Zandik’s lead. While there was still a certain stiffness and uncertainty in his posture at first, I could feel how his hold on me gradually softened after a few moments. He pulled me closer, just enough to not hinder our steps, and squeezed my hand lightly.
“Thank you,” he mumbled into the space between us.
“Always,” I whispered as I returned the squeeze with a gentle smile on my lips, reveling in the surprised huff that escaped him as his breath hitched momentarily.
Maybe it appeared odd, the way the two of us floated around the dance floor in perfect unison when we had never done more in public than exchange friendly banter. I did not exactly care, but I still noticed the many eyes that were glued to us, watching our every move.
“People are staring,” I noted, mumbling so that only Zandik could hear me.
“I’m aware,” came his dry response.
“...Why are they staring at us?”
“They’re probably wondering if I’m going to dissect you and experiment on your brain after we finish dancing.”
“Well? Are you?” I teased, a lopsided smile curling at my lips.
“Haven’t decided yet. If you ask nicely, I actually might,” he replied, a low chuckle vibrating in his chest.
I felt his smirk brush against my cheek as he leaned closer to whisper in my ear.
“Why don’t we give them a little show?”
Without awaiting my response, Zandik stepped back and pulled me with him, changing to a more open position. Switching up the steps from the formal and proper dance, he led me around the floor in wide circles, forcing the other guests to make space for us. Trying my best to keep up, I huffed out a laugh as he spun me back in from a twirl that had my skirt flare out dramatically.
“I wasn’t aware you knew how to dance, let alone so well,” I noted.
Zandik clicked his tongue in mock annoyance, “Tsk. Of course I do. Once again, you underestimate me, my dear.”
Without warning, he dropped me in a dip so low that I feared for a moment that I would hit the floor. A brief yelp slipped from my lips, completely caught off guard from the sudden shift, but once I noticed how secure his hold on me was, I relaxed in his grasp.
I couldn’t hold back the laugh that bubbled up in my throat as he grinned down at me, sharp teeth on full display.
After pulling me back up, he thankfully reverted back to a more measured pace to allow me to catch my breath. The song soon flowed over into the next, a slower rhythm this time. Despite my best efforts to calm myself down, my heart was racing, and Zandik’s actions did nothing to alleviate this.
His hand on my back had shifted to accommodate for a slight change of position to match the song. While he seemed much more at ease, more casual than before our dance, I was suddenly acutely aware of his ungloved hand on the bare skin of my back where my dress was cut lower. His thumb drew idle little circles into my flesh, but he might as well have been trying to burn me, from the way my skin heated up at the contact.
If this is an attempt at trying to ease my nerves, he sure is failing most spectacularly, I thought as I melted into his touch.
“Thank you for the earring,” he mumbled, his cool breath that ghosted over my neck and shoulder sending a pleasant tingle down my skin that only added to the fuzzy warmth inside me.
“It’s a… very thoughtful gift. Did you come up with the design yourself?”
I nodded, “I did, glad you like it. And honestly, it looks even better on you than I could have imagined.” I looked up to give him a warm smile, but had to quickly avert my eyes when I noticed how soft his lips looked, rosy and slightly parted.
Swallowing dryly, I took a moment to reign in my thoughts before facing him again.
“I was hoping you would ask me to dance, you know?”
This seemed to catch Zandik so off guard that he missed the next step, concealed gaze snapping up to search my eyes.
“What? Why?” he asked, astonishment and confusion written all over him.
Oh what I would give to see his eyes right now…
I shrugged slightly, a lopsided smile on my lips as I looked up at him, silently willing him to finally understand.
The tips of his ears were still dusted pink when the song ended a few minutes later. Letting go of my waist, he stepped back while still holding onto my hand, gently running his thumb over my knuckles. My breath hitched when I felt his breath ghost over my skin as he bowed down, pressing a single kiss on the back of my hand.
It felt as if an invisible weight had been lifted from our shoulders at some point during our dance.
Zandik, of course, was still obligated to fulfill his role as the Second Harbinger; but unlike earlier, he did not seem to even think twice when he offered his arm to me, the gesture now coming as natural as drinking water. The only time his arm fell was when he rested his hand on my lower back as we chatted with Pantalone, subtly pulling me closer in a protective, almost possessive gesture. As we moved from conversation to conversation, we caught sight of the kinds of antics that only occurred when one was enjoying the festivities a bit too much, like the young noble who had way too much dandelion wine and was now making a fool of himself on top one of the bars, while his date quickly left the scene, probably to look for more pleasant company. Our heads turned to one another as we conspired quietly over the misery those two would surely endure in the morning.
After a conversation with Pucinella, Zandik politely excused us as his hand found mine with an almost instinctive ease. He led me through the crowd until we slipped through a large glass door to an adjacent balcony, the din of the party muffled almost immediately once it fell shut behind us. The moment we stepped outside into the freezing night air, we both let out a dramatically drawn-out sigh of relief. Simultaneously turning our heads towards one another, we both started grinning.
“And here I was, thinking you’d started to actually enjoy the socializing and parading around,” I teased as I stepped towards the balustrade.
“You know I don’t,” Zandik huffed as he joined me, leaning back against the marble railing.
We fell into a comfortable silence, and with a faint smile I directed my gaze towards the night sky. Even after having learned the truth about the fake firmament, I couldn’t help but marvel at its beauty. This far up north, colorful bands of green and purple light wafted in between the stars during clear nights, bathing everything in an almost otherworldly glow, the bright colors reflecting off of glittering ice and white marble alike.
I could feel his covered gaze on me as I watched the lights dance, mesmerized by the spectacular display above me. Eventually, the subtle rustling of fabric pulled me out of my trance.
“You’re shivering,” Zandik noted as he stepped up to me, holding his jacket in one hand. Without awaiting my reply, he took another step and draped it around my shoulders, the empty sleeves hanging down my sides.
My lips parted in a quiet gasp as his warmth and scent enveloped me with the jacket.
“I– thank you,” I stammered, pulling the garment tighter around me.
“Don’t mention it,” Zandik mumbled, a faint smile on his lips as his gaze lingered on me for a moment, before he turned to lean on the balustrade again.
I allowed myself to admire his form for a moment – now with the jacket gone, I noticed that his waistcoat was cut similar to a corset, the tight laces down the back accentuating his wiry figure.
After taking another long glance at his back, I joined him in looking out at the frozen palace grounds, settling in close enough that my shoulder brushed against his. From the corner of my eye, I saw his lips twitch with the hint of a smile before he leaned into me, the light pressure against my shoulder warm and reassuring.
We stood there in silence for a few minutes, just basking in each others’ presence. Behind us, the light and voices from the ball trickled out through the large glass doors, the celebrations still in full swing.
“Not that I’m exactly keen on it,” I said eventually, hesitant to break the moment, “but do you think we should… go back inside?”
With a small groan, Zandik turned his head towards me.
“I’d rather not. I can’t stand a single person in that room. I’ve done my part for tonight, and if I have to listen to some idiot yapping about Omega’s grand victory just one more time, I might do something that would definitely dampen the mood in there.”
I hummed, holding my chin as I pondered that option for a moment. Then, I stepped back and extended my hand towards Zandik, a mischievous grin on my face.
“Well then, what are we waiting for? Let’s just… leave. We don’t even have to take the main door, I saw another exit to the side near the bar earlier.”
For a moment, he stared at me and my hand in bewilderment.
Then he chuckled, “You really are something else…” before he took my offered hand and allowed me to drag him away.
»»————-————-««
A bit later, on that same balcony.
“Regrator, have you seen Dottore and his assistant? I can’t seem to find them anywhere?” Columbina chirped, her bright voice tinged with a hint of worry.
The banker let out a low hum before he chuckled, slowly blowing a ring of smoke out into the night. He watched the ring float away as it widened, its shape becoming fuzzier, before it vanished and he turned to face the girl behind him.
“The Doctor and his lovely assistant left through the side entrance about ten minutes ago. Hand in hand, I might add.”
Columbina gasped as she quickly skipped over to him.
“So your plan worked!” she squealed, excitedly jumping up and down in front of Pantalone.
The Ninth huffed, “It does seem like it… I believe they can handle it themselves from here on, I doubt that even Dottore could still manage to mess up at this point.”
The Ninth smiled and leaned back against the balustrade, cold marble pressing into his back as he opened his eyes to watch the dancing lights illuminate the fake sky above them.
»»————-————-««
Zandik allowed her to lead him through the empty halls of the palace, not questioning where they were headed, only focused on where her hand touched his and the warm feeling that spread through his entire being. She only let go of him once they were in the laboratory where she stopped by her desk for a moment to take off her heels. With a playful laugh that burned itself into his mind forever, she twirled around the free space, the light fabric of her skirt billowing around her like a cloud of light blue smoke.
“What are you still standing there for? Don’t tell me you still wanna go back to work at this hour?” she called, a gleefully teasing lilt in her voice.
“It’s not that late, actually,” Zandik shot back, his lips curling into a smile, “But no, I was not planning on working tonight.”
Crossing the distance towards his study, he wordlessly held open the door for her.
Now standing in the middle of his living room, leaning against the back of his couch, Zandik slowly felt his nerves get the better of him again; the confidence he had felt at the ball, during their dance, slipping through his hands the longer he looked at her now. Unblinking, he watched her take his jacket off her shoulders and neatly fold it over the back of a chair before she poured herself a glass of water from the carafe on the table.
She stood out in the most beautiful way, her bright, almost ethereal figure in his dark living room… just standing there, carefree, sipping water, looking like she was exactly where she belonged. Every second he kept staring at her, twisted the knife in his chest a little further. He needed to do something, but right now he didn’t even trust his feet to carry him those few steps over to reach her.
She put her glass down and met his concealed gaze, and the gentle smile that graced her face stole his breath away all over again.
“I like your dress,” he managed eventually, “Blue… suits you.”
A breathy laugh slipped from her lips as she looked down for a second, her hands grasping at the shimmering tulle as she shifted, the skirt swaying lightly with the movement.
“Thank you. Actually, I think this might be my new favorite color…” She looked up at him, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “... though there is another shade I might like even more…” she mused.
“Do you know what I wanted the entire time when we danced?”
She took a carefully measured step towards him.
“What?” Zandik asked, his heart beating up in his throat as she drew closer, little by little.
She took another step until she was right in front of him, so close that he could smell her shampoo.
“I wanted to see your eyes,” she whispered as she raised her hand, her slim fingers closing around the beak of his mask.
Zandik’s breath caught in his throat. The invisible hand that clutched around his heart squeezed harder.
With a gentle tug, the mask came off, and with it the only thing shielding him and the chaos of emotions swirling inside him from her inquisitive gaze. He didn’t need to see his own face to know that his cheeks and ears were burning red as he looked down to meet her eyes, her smile widening as she watched him. Her lips parted slightly as she took in his expression, and she was so bewitchingly beautiful that Zandik feared he might melt if she continued to torture him like this.
Then she reached up to fix his hair strands, and all he could do was stare at her dumbly, his body frozen, unable to move, completely at her mercy.
She stared back up at him, and she was so close, her body almost touching his. Her scent invaded his senses, intoxicating and driving him to the brink of insanity. Zandik’s hands twitched at his sides, half moving to hold her waist, to try and ground himself somehow, but he couldn’t, uselessly dropping them again.
With her smile as soft and unbothered as ever, she stepped back and ventured over to the gramophone in the corner, crimson gaze following her every move. She hummed quietly as she flicked through the small collection of records he kept next to the machine. After a few long moments, she picked one, carefully taking the record out of the sleeve before placing it on the gramophone’s platter and slowly lowering the needle. She stepped back and made her way back to Zandik as the first slow notes resounded through the dimly lit room.
Coming to a halt in front of him, she extended her hand.
“May I have this dance, Sir?” she asked, a coy smile on her lips.
Zandik swallowed dryly as he met her expectant gaze. Not trusting his voice, he simply nodded before taking her hand in his, leading her towards the open space in the middle of the room.
Just like earlier that evening, she placed one hand on his shoulder blade as he wrapped the other in his own, much bigger hand, her warm touch against his palm sending pleasant shivers down his arm. She stepped closer, much closer than the last time they danced, her chest touching his until their dancers’ hold more resembled an embrace. Almost automatically, his arm wrapped around her, his hand resting on her exposed back above her waist. Eyes locked with hers and a faint smile on his lips, Zandik drew in a deep breath before he took the first step, taking her with him in tune to the music.
They moved as one, even more so than before, now that the added weight of the many prying eyes was lifted off them. Contrary to so many other things, dancing with her, holding her felt so simple, so easy, that Zandik couldn’t help but wait for the catch, only that it never came.
In between drawing circles around the limited space of his living room, she still found room to spin herself out from time to time, light and carefree, never letting go of his hand as she twirled around. Always coming back to curl right against his chest like that was exactly where she belonged.
And somehow, she did.
Her cheek rested against his shoulder, so that her warm breath lightly fanned across his neck in soft waves. Zandik felt her hand wander over his back, nimble fingertips tracing the contours of his spine and the lacing of his waistcoat before slowly moving up his neck. Slender digits carded through his hair, and a small tug on his roots at the base of his skull made him release a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.
His heart hammered in his chest as he drew back to find her already looking up at him, her smile and the look in her eyes something that could only be described as pure adoration. Breath stuck in his throat again, he quickly closed his eyes before her gaze threatened to swallow him whole.
He wasn’t deserving of her adoration. Not deserving of being happy. Not him, not with who he used to be and still was. Constantly destroying everything around him, spreading misery, causing the deaths of everyone who ever got close to him. He shouldn’t drag her into his mess any more than he already did. Shouldn’t endanger her any more than he did. Maybe the damage he caused could still be reversed, maybe—
“Zandik.”
He frowned. The panic that was clawing at his throat made it hard for him to breathe, the twisting pain in his chest was almost unbearable. He vaguely noticed that the music had stopped and they were no longer moving, but the warm weight of her body against him was still there, grounding him, a glowing beacon shining through the thick storm clouds of his swirling thoughts.
“Zandik,” she whispered again, her voice so soft and sweet in his ears. His eyes snapped open, and the moment he saw the gentle smile on her soft lips, the sparkle in her gaze, all thoughts stopped.
There was only her, from the moment he first saw her. He realized that now.
“Please forgive me,” he breathed, voice almost trembling, “Please allow me to be selfish, just once.”
Letting go of her hand, he let his digits trace along her jaw, fingertips ghosting over her soft skin. He gently tilted her face up, his grasp on her chin so delicate as if she would shatter if he wasn’t careful enough.
“I’m so tired of pretending I don’t want you,” he whispered as he leaned in, so close that he could feel her breath ghost over his face.
Zandik took one last look at her flustered expression before he let his eyes fall shut and pushed past the last few inches that separated him from her, finally claiming her lips for himself.
He was clumsy, painfully inexperienced, but all that mattered to him now was to somehow convey his feelings to her when words had failed him time and time again.
He genuinely did not know what he expected. Maybe that she would freeze up, or pull away after a short moment of confusion. A small voice in his mind might have hoped that she would perhaps follow along for a few seconds before parting again.
What Zandik did not expect was how her lips would welcome his poor attempt at a kiss, as if she had been waiting for this for a long time. All but melting in his hold, she sighed as she wound her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, so close they might as well have been one.
His own hold on her tightened, almost as if he was scared she’d vanish if he didn’t hold her close.
She parted her lips with a breathy laugh that felt like a shot to his chest, and when Zandik felt the tip of her tongue nudge his, his mind blanked out.
Desperately clinging onto her like his life depended on it, he followed her lead as she explored him, molding his lips – no, his entire being – to match her, and only her. Her hand tangled in his hair as their tongues danced, entwined with each other as if that was exactly how it was always supposed to be.
The twisting pain in his chest was gone, replaced by a gentle, glowing warmth that engulfed his soul. He was starting to become lightheaded from the lack of oxygen, but if it meant he could keep kissing her, he would happily endure it until the last moment.
It ended up being her who reluctantly broke the kiss, gasping for air as she peppered his face with countless little pecks that felt almost like a butterfly caressing his skin. Trying to regain control over his own shaky breaths, Zandik rested his forehead against hers, allowing his eyes to fall shut momentarily as he drank in her presence.
For a few long moments, only the two of them existed in a bubble that consisted only of their huffed breaths and the points where their bodies touched.
“Can I kiss you again?” Zandik asked eventually, his voice coming out hoarse, fragile, almost breaking. Afraid to ask, afraid that she might slip from his grasp if he made one wrong move.
“Please,” she whispered softly as she cupped his face with both hands, pulling him closer until her lips brushed his ever so slightly.
“And don’t you dare to ever stop again.” She smiled against his skin, both of them reveling in the feeling of their breaths mixing together, before she pressed her lips against his once more.
thinking about men who rarely ever masturbate but after meeting you they find themselves letting their hand wander and linger a bit longer below the belt. It’s obscene what he’s doing, if you knew you’d be disgusted by him but he just..can’t help himself it feels too good, thumb swiping his tip and palm gently stroking from base to tip, his hips thrusting into his palm and your name on his lips. he’s sweaty and his breath is uneven but the image of you playing in his head is vivid enough for him to not care about his appearance and instead desperately chases his high with the picture of you behind his eyelids. and it doesn’t stop there, he buys..a toy too. he’s ashamed that he’s even purchased such a thing but his hand is getting old and he’s beginning to wonder what you feel like. when he slides the lubed up silicone down his shaft he lets out a hiss and his jaw clenches as he grunts your name. it’s sinful the way his hips rock back and forth into the toy, his mind imaging you underneath him instead, cunt bared open for him, slick dripping down his cock as you tell him to fuck you harder and deeper. needless to say the toy doesn’t last long, he breaks it after a few uses and once it does he decides it’s time he asked you on a date
Just a reminder that any boycotts should be in addition to and not instead of the targeted boycotts selected by BDS for maximum impact, which are:
-HP
-Siemens
-AXA
-Puma
-Israeli fruits and vegetables
-Sodastream
-Ahava
-Sabra
So I haven’t talked about this on main before, but the situation in South Gaza has gotten so horrifying that I’m p much throwing caution to the wind to desperately plead for eyes on this. I’m raising awareness about stories from activists in Gaza right now, including one of our own.
My lovely, wonderful friend Swin (aka tumblr user @combaticon) was deployed as a volunteer medic to a Gaza hospital on the 9th.
When the bloodshed started, she heard they needed extra hands in Gaza, she spoke Arabic and had the training, and she went.
I’ve been in contact with her throughout. She’s so incredibly brave it takes my breath away. My heart bleeds for these children she’s taking care of and how resilient they are is… astonishing.
Swin and these poor people have been under siege for so long, and they’re in desperate need of critical supplies. They have to filter water through their clothes, and it’s getting dangerously cold. Foods finally been getting through, but there’s not enough blankets and jackets to go around and there’s no fuel for the generators.
Their comrades in the West Bank have been completely pushed out by settler thugs. It’s incredibly unsafe to even be doing humanitarian work for Palestinians. Remember this the next time a Zionist tells you they’re doing this to ‘feel safe’. The IOF is arming lynch mobs.
On a personal note, this has been the most gut-wrenching week of my life. Every day when I wake up without a text from her I feel so much fear. I fight back the grief but I don’t know how to help or what to do. It’s terrifying.
Swin has asked for nothing, absolutely nothing other than something it can show the people around it to make them feel like they’re not going to be abandoned. To make sure they’re not forgotten in some pit praying Rafah opens before Israel decides to slaughter them all.
Today was a bad day. She’s alive but beyond worrying about her privacy now; she’s asked me to share this and to beg that we not lose steam and forget about them. Please share this, and please keep being fucking annoying and loud and digging your heels in with fury because we cannot let these people die silently.
What to boycott NOW to help stop Israel’s unfolding genocide of Palestinians in Gaza
We call on our supporters to strengthen our targeted boycott and divestment campaigns to maximize our impact!
Reminder that boycotting DOES work, there is historic proof! Don't let anyone discourage you otherwise!
The BDS movement uses the historically successful method of targeted boycotts inspired by the South African anti-apartheid movement, the US Civil Rights movement, the Indian anti-colonial struggle, among others worldwide.
We must strategically focus on a relatively smaller number of carefully selected companies and products for maximum impact. Companies that play a clear and direct role in Israel’s crimes and where there is real potential for winning, as was the case with, among others, G4S, Veolia, Orange, Ben & Jerry’s and Pillsbury. Compelling such huge, complicit companies, through strategic and context-sensitive boycott and divestment campaigns, to end their complicity in Israeli apartheid and war crimes against Palestinians sends a very powerful message to hundreds of other complicit companies that “your time will come, so get out before it’s too late!”
Please reblog! Spread this! There is an effort by zionists to discourage people from boycotting! Don't let them trample your spirits and help us in the fight for a liberated Palestine!
