rebels united


Rosson House, Phoenix by Trevor Huxham

Hello! Yeah, Falling Kingdoms Fandom? WHERE ARE YOU?!?! Do you EVEN EXIST?! I just finished Crystal Storm and IM DYING!!!!!!!

*muffled sobs* help me

anonymous asked:

Okay I hate trump but my mom says that the war is because we have to ruin their government?? Because it's bad and that they are the ones who gassed everyone one and treats their people badly? I'm trying to learn more about what's going on

The Syrian government, run by President Bashar al-Assad is evil. They show no concern for their people and have committed many atrocities against the Syrian people. The most recent being a chemical attack against innocent civilians with many children dying. The Assad regime and Russia of course deny Assad did this purposefully. The United States and Turkey of course says they did. I have no confidence in the Assad regime, so I believe the safest and most empathetic belief is to say the Assad regime did. So, let’s work our way forward from this conclusion.

The Assad regime is abominable, horrific, unacceptable, and disgusting. The Syrian people deserve freedom, happiness, and safety, but they will receive absolutely none of this from Assad–ever. The Middle East has been a grief-stricken, complex region since Britian and France divided up the region after World War I. These two countries arbitrarily designed the borders of every country in the region without ever consulting the Arabic people who resided there. This is a KEY and VITAL point. They drew lines that did NOT match up with what the people desired. The border lines drawn enclosed different groups who disliked each other GREATLY. THIS is a HUGE source of conflict in the region, and must be taken into account in any discussion.

Because of the actions taken after World War I, the Middle East has been in turmoil ever since. Syria is another tragic example of this. The Syrian Civil War began in 2011 as an effect of the Arab Spring, a movement that swept through the entire Middle East to protest for increased freedoms and an end to government corruption. Syria was an obvious hot-spot for this due to the damage the Assad regime had inflicted on the Syrian people. The protest movement devolved into a war in Syria,

The war includes many different factions. At the beginning, there were large moderate rebel groups, who the United States believed could run a more open, free Syria. The United States funded and armed these groups. The Syrian government led the battle against the rebel groups. There was also a large presence in the region of terrorist rebel groups such as ISIS, Al Nusra, and many others. ISIS being the most powerful. They are also attempting to wrest control of the government from Assad.

As time went on, the moderate rebel groups lost control in the war. Now, the big power players in the region are the terrorist rebel groups (largely ISIS) and the Assad regime. The Assad regime is fighting the terrorist groups, while the terrorist groups are fighting BOTH Assad and OTHER terrorist groups. There are several other countries who have been covertly funding various terror groups in the region, including Qatar and Saudi Arabia.

We have no true ally in Syria. There is no organized group we could possibly fund that would adequately bring justice to the Syrian people. Any military action we take could lead to dangerous consequences that allow a terrorist group such as ISIS to garner control of the region. If we conduct air strikes, we kill civilians. If we invade, we lose our men and we are forced to fight a double-sided battle against Assad AND ISIS. If we remove Assad from power, a power vacuum is created which a terrorist group that could be even worse could fill. There is NO easy solution. So, therefore, it is IMPERATIVE we be EXTREMELY careful to avoid further harming the Syrian people by making impulsive mistakes.

We must, at the same time, walk a fine line with Russia and Iran, to avoid the potential to start World War III. They are allies with Syria. We do not want to take actions to provoke them, and bring the entire world into a conflict. We must tread carefully. The military strike done by Trump was irresponsible and hasty. We must do better.


Showdown with the Devil’s army: How 26 British soldiers took on 2,000 drug-crazed warriors in a blood-curdling Sierra Leone jungle battle… and won

To Sergeant Steve Heaney, the stillness of the steamy African night felt crushingly claustrophobic. Suddenly the intense, eerie quiet was broken by blood-curdling screams and banshee howls from the forest as if, he recalled, ‘the devil and all his minions were at our front’.

He could hear weird, wild chanting in the distance, interspersed with jungle drums. ‘What makes the grass grow?’ a voice called out. ‘Blood! Blood! Blood!’ came the chilling, chanted response of thousands of voices out in the darkness.

The year was 2000, and Heaney and 25 other men from the Parachute Regiment’s elite Pathfinder platoon were in Sierra Leone, sent by Prime Minister Tony Blair in one of his first military interventions to back up his ‘ethical’ foreign policy.

The West African country had been in a vicious civil war for years, but now a brutal group of terrorists known as the Revolutionary United Front (RUF) — ordered into battle by the president of neighbouring Liberia, Charles Taylor — were closing in on the capital, Freetown. 

Frenzied by drugs and witchcraft, they had a signature atrocity — amputating victims’ arms after offering them the choice of ‘long-sleeve’ (below the elbow) or ‘short-sleeve’ (above it).

They would surround an isolated village at night, round up boys of 11 and 12, and force them to kill their own fathers and rape and mutilate their mothers. Then the traumatised youngsters were taken to swell the rebel ranks.

As boy soldiers, they were fed a cocktail of crack cocaine and heroin ‘injected’ into cuts made in their foreheads. They were also bathed in vats of voodoo medicine by ‘high priestesses’, to make them ‘bulletproof’ and ‘invincible’ as they led the way into battle, often dressed in pink shell-suits and wearing women’s wigs.

The rebels gave themselves names like Baby Killer and Belly Slasher, and were infamous for playing what they called the Sex The Child game, whereby they would bet on the sex of the unborn baby of a captured pregnant woman and then slash her open to settle the wager.

And now, 2,000 of them with machine guns and rocket-propelled grenades were massed in the jungle, with only Heaney and his men holed up in a village to block their way to the capital’s international airport. 

He felt like a defender at the Alamo, with every chance of being massacred.

It was a situation typical of the way the whole Sierra Leone operation was handled. A hurried decision had been made to evacuate British subjects with the help of an 800-strong task force.And the troops went out at a moment’s notice — under-equipped and under-briefed, with almost zero knowledge of the country or the enemy. 

They had no maps, no intelligence reports, dodgy assault rifles they didn’t trust and virtually no ammunition. It was done on a wing and a prayer — the hallmark of Blair’s foreign interventions.

As the main force deployed in Freetown to organise the evacuation, Heaney’s tiny group was dispatched up-country to locate the rebel army — which was said to be just 50 miles from the  airport and advancing on it, hell-bent on wholesale slaughter.

The Pathfinders had a simple mission: to hold back the enemy’s advance until reinforcements were helicoptered in. A village named Lungi Lol straddled the single dusty road through the jungle down which the rebels were coming — and it was here that Heaney and his men prepared to make their stand. 

What made their predicament even more scary was the knowledge that, in light of the Paras’ presence, the RUF had chillingly re-named their mission ‘Operation Kill British’. 

‘None of us needed telling what would happen to us if captured,’ Heaney says.

From where he stood, the odds did not look good. ‘We had just 300 rounds per man, which meant we’d have to average one kill every seven rounds to account for 2,000 coming at us.’ 

The prospect of being overrun, or worse, seemed very real. If they got out of alive, it would be something of a miracle. He had Claymore mines and plastic explosives, but also, he quickly realised, some unexpected assets — his own ‘army’ of African villagers, plus a jungle full of bamboo. With the village chief’s agreement, he put the people — themselves terrified of the rebels  — to work creating defence lines.

A rapport grew up between the soldiers and the locals as, with machetes, hoes and bare hands, women and children dug out dense vegetation around the village to make open ‘killing zones’ for British machine guns in newly dug battle trenches. 

They made man-traps of bamboo canes, cut to lethal razor sharpness at one end, then stuck in the ground in rows, point up and hidden under leaves.

Numbers behind the defences swelled as more and more local people arrived, fleeing the advancing rebels. Word was that the enemy were just a few miles away. ‘I could sense their presence and the threat hanging heavy in the  air,’ Heaney says.

‘Show time,’ he told his platoon as he deployed them to their posts. ‘No problem,’ they replied, calm and determined. ‘Let ’em come.’ And so they waited in the darkness, until that chant of ‘Blood! Blood! Blood!’ erupted out of the silence of the night. The moment of truth had arrived.
Heaney says: ‘All hell let loose. There was a massive eruption of fire from the jungle as the rebels came at us in a human wave all along our front. I could feel the rounds tearing through the branches above us, and see the tracer streaking through the night sky like swarms of giant fire-flies on acid. 

‘The nearest rounds buzzed past my head like angry wasps.

‘I shuddered to think how many rebel soldiers were out there. And they clearly were not suffering the shortages of ammo that we did. Any minute they’d be on top of our positions, swamping us.’ His machine-gunners in their trenches were doing their job, but using up valuable ammunition that, however much they held back, would sooner or later leave them ‘seriously buggered’. After 20 short bursts, a whole belt was gone, and each gun had just three belts. 

Heaney guessed that the enemy were creeping forward into dead ground between the defences. And since his men had no reliable night-vision sights on their guns — another equipment failure — he knew he had to get some light on the battleground by putting up a flare.

That meant crawling out into the open. ‘I cursed our lack of body armour. If an accurate round came my way, I would have no protection and it would kill me outright.’

With bullets flying around him, he managed to mortar a flare into the night sky. As it floated down, it flamed like a giant Roman candle — and there were the rebels, frozen in fierce, fluorescent daylight.

His machine-gunners picked their targets and fired. ‘Thanks to the villagers cutting the vegetation, the rebels had nowhere to hide. There were screams as many went down and others scrabbled to get away.’ 

But then an attack began from another direction. Heaney shot up another flare, lighting up rebels just 200 yards away and rushing forward in the belief that their voodoo medicine made them invincible. 

‘I saw rebel fighters slammed to the ground by rounds from our guns, then clamber to their feet and start charging forward again, screaming maniacally. Some took four bullets before they went down and stayed down,’ he remembers.

By now, the rebel commander must have worked out how Heaney was co-ordinating the defence from his position out in the open. A rocket grenade came barrelling towards the sergeant, missing by inches, followed by rebel soldiers, creeping through the pitch black.

‘I grabbed my rifle and let rip at the flitting shadows, hammering rounds into them. 
‘Figures reared up from the bush in front of me, so close I didn’t need to use the metal sights. 

Muzzles sparked from a few dozen yards away. There was agonised screaming, deafeningly close. 

And more, I realised, coming from the pits of sharpened bamboo stakes we’d prepared as the rebels blundered into them. The night was thick with the scent of adrenaline, blood, aggression and fear.’ 

But he got his miracle. The rebels pulled back. Amazingly, too, the platoon was intact, with not a single casualty. 

It was first round to the Pathfinders, but Heaney and his men knew this was not the end of the matter.

The rebels would come again . . . and against a rapidly diminishing supply of British bullets and flares.

‘We were down to less than a third of our ammo,’ he says bluntly. 

But surely, they imagined as they waited, reinforcements were on their way by now, the Quick Reaction Force they had been promised once they engaged the rebels. A Chinook should be dropping the cavalry in at any moment. ‘We just had to hold on.’ 

For the British troops, the easy choice would have been to pull out, hop in their trucks and leave the village to fend for itself. But  Heaney and his men were having none of that. 

Nor were they prepared to withdraw when the Quick Reaction Force they expected was delayed — because headquarters first wanted an assessment from an officer specially flown in to check that reinforcements were even necessary! 

A furious Heaney ‘felt waves of frustration and anger washing over me’ at such bureaucratic niceties when lives were at stake.

Eventually the reinforcements did fly in, ‘30 heavily armed Paras spoiling for a punch-up’, as Heaney put it — at which point the British contingent was able to take the fight to the rebels, fanning out beyond the village to track them down.

The enemy, though, had retreated deep into the jungle. But would they be back in even greater numbers, thirsting for revenge? 

With that question in the air, the Pathfinders agreed to stay and defend what had become ‘our village’. If they didn’t there was every chance the rebels would return and massacre the villagers, and they couldn’t allow that to happen.

‘As we stared down our rifle barrels into the darkness once again, we had no doubt they were out there, massing in serious strength.’ 

At which point — and to their utter dismay — Heaney and his platoon were ordered to withdraw.

‘It hit us like a bombshell,’ he says. ‘For night after night we’d been probed by the rebels. We’d pushed out foot patrols during the day into the jungle to find them. Of one thing we had been certain: we were here for the duration. No rebels were going to wreak havoc on our village, not on our watch.’

But their commanders, nervous of defending such an isolated outpost, took a different view. 

‘Pathfinder withdrawal,’ read the order from on high. ‘No relief.’ They had held their ground for 16 days  and now they were to leave and not be replaced. The village would be unprotected.

And so — seething with anger and against every sense of honour they felt — the Pathfinders packed up.

‘It wasn’t exactly how I’d ever imagined us leaving this place,’ Heaney recalled. 

‘Scores of villagers lined the track as we headed for the Chinook. They were silent and fearful. We’d sat with them, played with their kids, shared their food and water. And now we were just walking out  on them.’

But the men, back home in the UK within 48 hours, need not have worried. Their commanders had made the right call — there was no further rebel push on Lungi Lol, no revenge exacted on the villagers.

Sierra Leone’s decade-long civil war was coming to an end, and Charles Taylor was to flee to Nigeria before being captured and sent to The Hague to face war crimes charges. 

A very large reason for the failure of his crusade was the stand by the Pathfinders at Lungi Lol — the only significant military action fought against the rebels, and the one that broke their backbone.

Among the honours for those who took part, Heaney was awarded the Military Cross, though, as his book makes clear, he remains dismayed by the military decision that forced them to abandon the village they risked their lives to defend.

At least Sierra Leone was at peace, secured by a British military campaign. Lungi Lol today is thriving.

Looking back, however, there was a downside to the Pathfinder  platoon’s heroic victory there. 

It may have convinced Tony Blair of the wisdom of military interventions in other country’s affairs — with results that, as we have seen with devastating clarity in Iraq this week, were disastrous for them and for us.

A list of things we should be grateful for this week


1. Callux vlogging

2. The Rebel FC vs United UTD (who came up with that name the fuck)

3. The Maga trip, we got the most coverage of JJ for the longest a time


5. I swear he’s begging for bad luck but Callux got he number 13 tatted on him and his mom’s reaction was priceless

6. Finch, just Finch. He’s just so yuno…Finch

7. @whateverbabeslove reblogging mass gifs of some of the boys that I love


9. You know Joe Weller giving us all a heart attack. diD YE SEE THEM BODY PICS HOLY MOTHER

10. Oh…. how could I forget JJ LEAKING HIS OWN MUSIC

If ye have anything else reblog and add it on babies!

 Pillars Rebuilt : We are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided.

Dennis Creevey ( c. 1982 or 1983)

Was a Muggle-Born wizard and younger brother of Colin Creevey. A student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry three years below Harry Potter. Like his brother, Dennis was sorted into Gryffindor. In his second year he joined Dumbledore’s Army, an organisation led and taught by Harry Potter.  

 Due to Voldemort’s policy of not allowing Muggle-borns to attend the school, Dennis and his brother Colin were unable to attend Hogwarts for their fourth and  sixth year of education respectively. The Creevey brothers placed their parents into hiding, and left for the Forest of Dean. 

Even though his blood status prevented him from being taught at Hogwarts, Dennis and Colin returned. Though Professor McGonagall dismissed them from the castle for being underage, Dennis and Colin returned and participated in the Battle of Hogwarts. During the battle his brother Colin was killed. 

Mafalda Prewett ( c. 1983)

Was a half-blood witch and the second cousin of Molly Weasley (née Prewett). The granddaughter of Lancelot Prewett, her father was squib and mother, a muggle. She attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry three years below Draco Malfoy. She was sorted into Slytherin in 1994. In her second year Mafalda openly opposed the Inquisition Squad. She enraged Umbridge by inciting a sickness called Umbridge-itis among a class of second and third years in retaliation.

Dolores Umbridge learning of Mafalda’s background used a dark magical object, more horrid than Black Quill, know as the Flaying Quill to punish her. Learning of the D.A. through Dennis Creevey, Mafalda wanted to join but, feared that she would be seen as a spy for Umbrigde. She rallied a small group of younger Slytherin students to rebel.  

In 1997 her home was attacked during  by Death Eaters, Mafalda’s family however, put up a fight. Her mother was grievously wounded, All three of the intruders and unfortunately Mafalda’s father were killed. She fled to the Forest of Dean. Mafalda returned and participated in the Battle of Hogwarts.   

Alice Tolipan (c.1984)

Was a half-blood witch born in Ireland. Her mother was an editor of Seeker Weekly Magazine. A student of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry three years below Luna Lovegood. She was sorted into Ravenclaw in 1995. In her first year, Alice joined and became a signed member Dumbledore’s Army.  

Alice broke school rules when she sneaked out and followed Padma Patil on one of the Hogsmeade weekend trips to go to the Hog’s Head for the first D.A. meeting. Taking an interest in the abilities of an animagus, Alice secretly began practicing. 

She used her form to deliver messages to the Potterwatch Radio. Though dismissed from the castle for being underage, Alice returned and participated in the Battle of Hogwarts. 

Luca Michali Caruso (c.1984)

Was a pure-blood wizard of Italian descent. His mother was a seamstress at Twilfitt and Tattings. He attended Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, four years below Susan Bones. He was sorted into Hufflepuff in 1995. In his first year, Luca joined and became a signed member of Dumbledore’s Army.  

Luca broke school rules when he sneaked out and followed Susan Bones on one of the Hogsmeade weekend trips to go to the Hog’s Head for the first D.A. meeting. He was able to conjure a corporeal Patronus.

 As a pure-blood, he was able to return to Hogwarts for the 1997–1998 school year after the Ministry of Magic fell under Lord Voldemort’s control. Luca assisted Susan Bones by secretly sending supplies to safe-houses for Muggle-borns on the run using Twilfitt and Tatts as a cover. In his fourth year, Luca returned and participated in the Battle of Hogwarts. 



okay. im about to rant. and when i rant im speaking for all my steo/sterek shippers out there.

what. the. literal. fuck. is. wrong. with. you. JACKASSES?

no. not the shippers.

the anti-shippers.

this annoying little anti steo and anti sterek bullshit is annoying.

“oh but theo is a bad guy.”

“oh but stiles hates theo.”

“oh but we already have a gay sort-of could be couple.”

“oh but the relationship is abusive.”
well they’re not in a relationship relationship to begin with so who cares?

i swear you guys always find a way to try and come at us.

have you ever wondered why we never went so hard for ethan and danny? or mason and whatever that guys names is?

because it’s all so basic. it’s the same shit we can see in any awful high school play.

the thing with sterek though is that it gave us something to feed off of. something to look forward to because they didn’t start off all happy taffy. the two started off practically hating each other’s guts and watching them grow together, actually becoming what looks like friends was rewarding.

that’s the thing with steo too. they start off bad. and who knows? if jeff actually wants to take this places, tease us like he did with sterek we may actually get to see how stiles can change theo if he can.

i don’t get why it’s so hard to accept the fact that sterek shipper are restless. we are possibly one of the most loyal shippers known to any fandom because even after derek’s gone we’re still going with the “2.0” as many call steo. which isn’t wrong tbh but still!

and stop trying to compare steo to any ship that isn’t sterek. you guys look stupid with this steo vs. stalia shit. like come on. are you serious?


so stop.


Second Chances

After meeting and falling in love with one another in Metropolis during Lex’s trial two years ago, Supergirl and Lena must confront their feelings for one another now that they are back in the same city. Supergirl must let Lena meet her human side if they stand a chance of creating a successful relationship but is unsure if Kara Danvers is good enough for Lena. Read here on Ao3 or below.

This was created for and is dedicated to one of the most awesome people in the world, the real life Wonder Woman, and MY hero @saravvocata! I hope you have the best birthday ever <3

Also shout out, as always, to my write or die, @stennnn06 for the title since I suck at making them and reading this through before hand.

Keep reading

Voltron Season 3 Episode 7 Summary that no one asked for

the paladins of old were ultimate squad goals:

 alfor was an alchemist

He’s also a hot head an goes head-first into things (like someone else i know)

zarkon mcfricken roasts alfor in the first 30 seconds

zarkon was friendly at one point?!?!

the blue one is gay

the blue one is g a y


zarkon once again mcfricken r o a s t s king alfor in front of his own wife

this time having someone join in on the roasting

the he gets roasted AGAIN

big glowy rock thingy goes crash boom

the “they didnt know it then but the fate of the universe would be changed forever” bs dialogue goes down

alfor sends his hottest best alchemist to study it

zarkon gets an middle school crush

he puts a ring on it

god damn b a b y  a l l u r a

aka the reason i live 

zarkon’s wifu is slowly being coming more galra ( bc she’s been sleeping with zarkon a little too much and sharing the same dreams if you know what i mean)

quintessence is finally mentioned

alternate realities oo spooky1!1!1!!

smol cute swimming blob of dark spooky magic looking matter gets it’s period and gets mad

alfor: close the rift zarkon its dangerous


the parallels between the old paladins and the new ones are uncanny

does that mean lance will be bi?

voltron does normal ass voltron shit

magic blob’s period ends and goes back to its wormhole thing???

alfor: zarkon close the god damn rift

zarkon: no *pouts and crosses his arms like a 3 year old*

zarkon’s wifu is obsessed with quintessence to the point she experiments with her dying cat and revives the cat

alfor: oh hey zarkon’s wif- HOLY FUCK YOU LOOK LIKE SHIT

zarkon’s wife: I’ve been doing quintessence dad and you can stop me


zarkon: make me

*zarkon’s wife falls so ill that she technically dead but not quite*

well maybe i’ll close it…… ha nah bro ill just drag voltron down there so i can relieve my wife lol

*Zarkon drags voltron+ team down there saying they needed to go into the rift but actually just to relieve his wife but takes so much quintessence that they both die*

Rip Zarkon + Wife

lol lets evacuate and blow up the galra home planet to get rid of the rift

zarkon and his wife become immortal and wake up \

lets rebel against the united nations peaceful planets lol

the here comes a twist that i hoped wasn’t true:

his wife who was an alten is hangar

that means zarkon fucked hangar pretty recently bc now they have lotor

e w now i feel bad for lotor

and thats the summary of the season 3 finally no one asked for :)