#tw attack

It’s mad, you see these atrocities happen on the news daily these days but when its on your doorstep it really does hit home! Like these kids were at a Taylor Swift Themed event when this 17 year old kid has carried out this horrific attack! Both of my nieces adore Taylor Swift and it just makes me think what if they were at an event like that and something happened to them! You'd think a summer day camp event your kids would be safe but not in today's world!It's scary. Like what has the world come to where you have attacks like this happening, especially to innocent kids! Its sad and troubling!

I understand the communities upset but big media have spun it to make it about race and ethnicity again! Yes the attackers parents aren't from the UK but he's was born in Cardiff! Yet tonight there has been the far right (EDL 🤮) protesting and rioting outside a mosque near where the attack happened! Right now the community should be coming together but instead we have the far right, Reform Party and no brain EDL idiots making it about race, setting vehicles alight and attacking police!

Normally I don't comment on this stuff on here but its played on my mind a lot today with it happening in my town, just a few streets away from where my mum works and the attacker living in the village near me! Between the news, the constant helicopters and the news vans parked up at the local shops it’s just hit home that these horrible acts can happen anywhere anytime and it really is a sad and scary reality that this is the world we live in right now!

Elita: Apex snuck up behind Lyra and grabbed her out of the chair putting her in a rear choke. Lyra quickly passed out with a super strong arm round her throat.

Apex: Don’t worry, you’ll be ok… You’ll be ok…

***

Apex: Time to go for a drive Mrs Robinson. We’re gonna have so much fun, whether you want it or not. I think you’ll love being a super soldier like me… You’re gonna love it!

***

the sun rises early bathing everything in light we polish all our weapons preparing for the fight

crystal sword drawn the empress sings to us a song longing lyrics twist in the air echoing in hearts wise and strong

the sorrowful ballad reflects the dark feelings buried deep hidden in the soul’s dark corners kept fast and sound asleep

us warriors stand and face the morning’s golden sky hand in hand, fearing the future on each other we rely

for our stolen independence we will go to war “victory or violent death” by fire we all swore

@luneyloopylupin​

The past ten hours had been a nightmare.  It was her own fault.  In retrospect they should have checked the chains, to have reinforced them with some magic.  They had been in a damp basement, unused for years.  The rust was obvious on the wall reinforcements.  It was stupid, really.  Reckless.  But she hadn’t, and there was no one to blame but herself, even though she was sure that Remus would disagree.

Remus rarely transformed at their childhood home anymore.  Why would he?  He had other options, better options that didn’t involve him chained to the wall like some sort of fucking animal.  But when his other options had fallen through she offered to help him in the same way she had when they were kids, when they didn’t know that there could be a better way.  And maybe that’s why she hadn’t thought it all through -- nostalgia could be a bitch, especially with the soundtrack of their father’s loud snores as he slept off his latest bender above them.  It had only ever been the two of them, really.  Her and Remus against the rest of the world, finding a way to survive when all of the odds were stacked up against them.

She had backed away as the moon began to peak through the dusty windows, watched, as she always did, as the pain of the transformation overtook him.  He didn’t need to be alone for that.  He was never alone, not really.  She watched, just out of reach, as the wolf began to overtake him -- she had done this more times than she could count, which is why when one of the reinforcements came loose from the crumbling concrete wall she stood there in shock.  It was why she didn’t run until she felt the swipe of one of his paws, mostly transformed, sent four claws digging into the skin of her left shoulder and arm.  She had done this so many times without incident that she was unprepared for when things went wrong.  She gasped in pain, staggering back as the blood began to soak through her shirt, meeting his eyes for long enough to watch the last of the familiar, warm brown fade away into the cool, unfeeling eyes of the werewolf.  God, she hoped he didn’t remember this.

Staggering back she narrowly avoided another swipe.  Blood was soaking through her shirt now, dripping onto the floor, as she calmly walked up the stairs, watching the other reinforcements carefully.  They seemed to be holding for now, but she wasn’t prepared to risk it.  Not for their father, who would be wholly unable to defend himself, not for Remus who was already going to have a hard enough time with hurting her if she didn’t do a good enough job cleaning it all up, and not for herself, because once the adrenaline wore of she knew the pain would be significant.  Clumsily she pulled out her wand, casting all the reinforcement charms she could manage.  She didn’t put anything in front of the door though, wanting Remus to be able to get himself out of the basement if she wasn’t able in the morning.

As she climbed the stairs, leaving smears of blood on the walls and carpet, her head spinning in a way that was alarming, she considered apparating to St. Mungo’s, knowing she would probably splinch herself.  But she decided against it, knowing they would easily connect her injuries to Remus, not wanting him to have that stigma above his head considering the current climate when it came to werewolves.  She wasn’t going to be the reason that things were harder for him than they already were. She barely made it to her room before falling to the ground.  She needed to stop the bleeding before she wasn’t able to do so.

It had taken her most of the night, clumsily stopping the bleeding, crawling to the bathroom to fumble for one of the blood replenishing potions she knew they had on hand for Remus, and passing out on the cool bathroom tile once she managed to take it.  She was desperately grateful that she regained consciousness before Remus did.  There wasn’t going to be time to clean the blood she knew had to be splattered all across the path she took to her bedroom, but she could make sure that she was in good enough shape as to not alarm him.  She could make sure he didn’t see the wounds.  

Desperately she wanted to take a shower, but she knew that probably wasn’t a good idea.  So instead she downed an antibiotic potion and one for pain, having truly no idea what the proper protocol was, cleaned herself up with a damp towel and wrapped her arm and shoulder up in clean, white bandages the best she could.  She had barely managed to pull a hoodie on before she heard him coming up the stairs.  “Hey,” she said softly, not turning to look at him.  She needed to hear his voice before she saw the look in his eyes, needing some indication of how much he knew so she could react accordingly turning around.  “Hey, sorry.”  She busied herself with making her rumpled, childhood bed with her good arm.  She never made her bed.  “I meant to be downstairs.  Are you hungry?  I have no idea what dad has, but I can try to fix you something.”