Freezingflames7 - FreezingFlames

I need to say this again so I don't go insane

By now we have seen multiple decapitated Palestinian children and decapitated Palestinian journalists on our phone screen, heinous crimes that Israel committed in broad daylight with the pretext of the same being done to some Israeli babies that we now know for a fact have never existed.

Israel as a whole and its ongoing accelerated genocide are built on lies that have claimed the lives of hundreds of thousands of Palestinians for over seven decades.

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Our next Page Artist features a stunning piece by @chiocchi!

First attempt at a Tomarry comic ✨

i like the idea that the horcrux in harry's scar was a jealous son of a bitch and got way too happy when his other counterparts (horcruxes) got destroyed. you can't change my mind. imagine harry feeling gleeful after destroying a horcrux.

Harry: I feel warm and fuzzy. Is that normal?

Ron and Hermione: No.

Scarcrux: [cheering like a madman in Harry's mind & soul]

That horrifying moment when you realize that you aren't following that one person whose fics you've been reading for a whole bloody year on tumblr

concept: Tom Riddle is working on slowly gaining influence and gathering followers in Slytherin. He only shares his heritage with his most trusted confidants. Everything is going well for him until a time-traveling Harry Potter with absolutely no fucks to give strolls into Slytherin house wearing a huge snake Britney Spears style and immediately claims to be the Heir of Slytherin. Harry takes people on tours to the Chamber of Secrets, lets his friends ride on the Basilisk's back, taunts Tom in parseltongue, and Tom loses his mind.

Every time someone makes a joke about Harry being boring I know they're talking about movie Harry because book Harry was UNHINGED

YES YES YES YES

WIP Last Line Tag Game

Tagged by @leafiloaf . Leafi, thank you so much for the tag! 😭 Sending love 💖💖💕💕 Look, when my favourite Harrymort artist tags me for the wip game it doesn't matter that I did the tag game, I’m doing it again!

Rules: Share 7 (or more) lines of a WIP you've been working on.

I wrote a little one-shot of our boy Harry fainting in the forest in Deathly Hallows and waking up. Without his shirt? Where could his shirt have gone? 🤔

Let Harry tell you one thing. He's a bloody good escape artist. Just because his shirt got discarded and his torso is currently exposed to the cold air of the hall won’t stop him from running headfirst to the exit, wherever the exit is — something Harry’s starting to worry about right now.  The burning, long fading mark in the middle of his chest the locket left behind throbbed dully, like its own heartbeat. All the hairs on his arms were up, rising in response to the biting cold, followed by goose bumps spreading along the skin. His empty fingers trembled. There was no wand. Someone took his wand. No weapon. Running bare-chested. Many strange things happened to Harry over these seven years, but this one definitely takes the cake.

At least he still had his trousers, glasses, socks and trainers. The girls and guys at Hogwarts would kill to see this, Harry was sure. The hair on the back of his neck prickled. A warning.  Mid-step, a cloth wrapped around Harry's ankles and wrists, lifting his feet off the floor. Harry pushed his entire body forward, lunging in the opposite direction in an attempt to rip the fabric off of his limbs.  The cloth was unbroken. More cloths snapped around him, like lunging snakes. Two more wrapped around his forearms, one wrapped around his chest, another around his waist, wrapping around his thigh, two more around his knees, and one around his neck. They all snapped tight, and Harry groaned as they squeezed, strangulating his bones with the powerful pressure. The only cloth that didn't squeeze him was the one around his neck, acting more like a rope than a handcuff. The cloths were like scarves. They extended outward, to the source. The ones around him slowly spun Harry around, almost gently, mindful not to break him. Harry followed the path of the cloths, and found they were connected to a robe. No. They were a part of the robe. Coming out of the robe like hidden serpents. His breath stopped in his lungs, caught in his throat in horror at the sight of the hooded, tall figure ten feet away from him. No. No, Harry was supposed to be dead… No… No, no, no, no… Harry felt the beat of his heart, and realized that he was very much not dead. He was alive. He was alive, and it was the most heart-wrenching realization to have in this moment. Harry was alive. And the cloth holding him captive came from Lord Voldemort, who prowled toward Harry slowly, like a slithering python approaching his captured prey. Harry glared at the hooded Dark Lord. 

Voldemort looked at him silently, his ivory face cast in shadow, his red eyes glowing like rubies. He tilted his head like a curious snake. A slow smile curled his mouth

“Going somewhere, my dear Horcrux?”

Harry's breath hitched, his eyes stretching in horror.

No.

No no no no no —

Voldemort reached forward. A skeletal hand cupped Harry’s cheek gently, tenderly holding his face.

Harry wasn't even done panicking before the red eyes enveloped his sight, and darkness swallowed him.

Tom and Harry dont fuck with pet names like “baby,” it’s “the light of my life, the flame of my soul, my only and dearest kindred spirit” or nothing