#and i say this as a gun owner we need regulations
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Do we need to go over the constitution? Of course we do. Here. Let’s do that. I’ll try to summarize swiftly. I’ll put the text in on the ones you ought to know the text of.
AMENDMENT I
“Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.”
In other words, the government cannot make any laws that inhibit your ideas, beliefs, faith, or right to disagree or seek compromise or apology. It doesn’t mean you have the right to do and say as you please and ripple are just supposed to put up with it. The government alone is prohibited from making or enforcing laws that inhibit your rights, and it can force others to comply with that hands off policy. This one is in hot debate right now courtesy of Musk, but the fact remains that he thinks “free speech” means he can be a jackass with complete impunity. Ravage business and world do not have to accept your opinion.
AMENDMENT II
“A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed.”
As I’ve said before, this refers to the old practice of raising an army from the men of the colonies, because we had no standing army employed specifically to care about defense. That was later. Notice that in no way does the second amendment imply that you must have a gun to stand up to your government. In fact it says the government cannot deny redress. It also referred to Muskets. So unless you’re in the military, I see no reason why anyone can claim a right to carry an assault weapon.
AMENDMENT III
“No Soldier shall, in time of peace be quartered in any house, without the consent of the Owner, nor in time of war, but in a manner to be prescribed by law.”
This had to do with a common practice of the time, called quartering. When an army was raised, it was necessary to move them around and feed them. In the colonies, the British troops ran roughshod over that rule and just moved in with families, taxing people’s inclined by leeching off them. Even worse, they used this tactic to keep tabs on people and intimidate them, and that was what the founders wanted to avoid.
AMENDMENT IV
“The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated, and no Warrants shall issue, but upon probable cause, supported by Oath or affirmation, and particularly describing the place to be searched, and the persons or things to be seized.”
This means you are protected, because in order to search, sieze, or otherwise compromise your property, the government must use rules that protect you, or they lose that evidence. This was a way of hamstringing the government to keep it from harming citizens with overzealous prosecution or outright fascism.
AMENDMENT V
“No person shall be held to answer for a capital, or otherwise infamous crime, unless on a presentment or indictment of a Grand Jury, except in cases arising in the land or naval forces, or in the Militia, when in actual service in time of War or public danger; nor shall any person be subject for the same offence to be twice put in jeopardy of life or limb; nor shall be compelled in any criminal case to be a witness against himself, nor be deprived of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor shall private property be taken for public use, without just compensation.”
This amendment has 3 parts, first the presumption of innocence, and second the right to ignore questions if you feel they can either be used against you, or twisted to be used against you. Thirdly, that the government cannot seize your property without fair compensation.
First, the presumption of innocence cannot be minimized. You would know the other system, if you saw it. If you are accused of a crime here, the state has to prove you did it to a reasonable degree of certainty. The defense doesn’t have to argue any specific theory. It can just say “that is made up”. Flip it, and the entire state and all the officials see you as guilty if you can’t pony up the money to defend yourself or find evidence on your own. The difference is important.
Second point: the right to not incriminate oneself is there to protect you in all things. Remember that this is just after a time that torture was widely used to get people to admit to being witches (something these men did not believe in). To them, torture was near, and men having their families held as bargaining chips. This was there to prevent coercion.
Third point: No one can just move onto your land and take it without you agreeing and being compensated…I think it’s obvious why they might be a bit sensitive about that one eh?
AMENDMENT VI
“In all criminal prosecutions, the accused shall enjoy the right to a speedy and public trial, by an impartial jury of the State and district wherein the crime shall have been committed, which district shall have been previously ascertained by law, and to be informed of the nature and cause of the accusation; to be confronted with the witnesses against him; to have compulsory process for obtaining witnesses in his favor, and to have the Assistance of Counsel for his defence.”
If your eyes just glazed over scanning that, my apologies. This is the amendment that sets up how trials must go in order that everyone has the right to a) be allowed to fight back, b) is not kept in prison for years with no defense, c) that juries are of peers, and so on and so forth
AMENDMENT VII
Has to do with which crimes are considered worthy of jury and how that jury would be selected
AMENDMENT VIII
“Excessive bail shall not be required, nor excessive fines imposed, nor cruel and unusual punishments inflicted.”
Meaning the government cannot charge someone so much money that it puts you in debt. It has to give you reasonable punishments—not prison for life for steal bread.
AMENDMENT IX
“The enumeration in the Constitution, of certain rights, shall not be construed to deny or disparage others retained by the people.”
In other words, no right can conflict with any other. No right can be used to take away another right.
AMENDMENT X
“The powers not delegated to the United States by the Constitution, nor prohibited by it to the States, are reserved to the States respectively, or to the people.”
Anything that isn’t illegal needs to be decided by the people or their duly elected state representatives. If the feds haven’t, the states are allowed, until feds step in
AMENDMENT XI -
“The Judicial power of the United States shall not be construed to extend to any suit in law or equity, commenced or prosecuted against one of the United States by Citizens of another State, or by Citizens or Subjects of any Foreign State.”
We won’t disallow others to charge you with a crime, but we will do so based on our laws and diplomacy. You will essentially be protected by the US but subject to foreign law. See the case of Britney Griner, still held captive in accordance with Russian marijuana laws, being used as a political pawn by Putin
AMENDMENT XII -
This is just how the votes work for the electoral college.
AMENDMENT XIII -
“Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted, shall exist within the United States, or any place subject to their jurisdiction.”
No slaves except in prisons (we need to change this as it over-incentivized the justice system to funnel cheap labor into the market.)
AMENDMENT XIV -
Section 1.
How citizenship gets decided, and an edict that no state can make laws that deprive people of their human rights
Section 2.
Further proof they only counted men. But essentially this is how Congress and so forth is put together
Section 3.
You can’t represent the people if you’ve ever been convicted of abandoning an oath or post
Section 4.
We decide what we pay for and we aren’t paying any debts that have to do with us preserving our state from the crown
We reserve the right to make laws
AMENDMENT XV -
Everyone eligible cannot be stopped from voting, no discrimination based on race or previous status (slaves given right to vote)
AMENDMENT XVI -
Income tax
AMENDMENT XVII -
Senators are two per state, we decide them thus and these are the rules etc. state reps. Congress blah blah
AMENDMENT XVIII -
I won’t even dignify this one with anything other than “prohibition”, in other words, the government giving us organized crime
AMENDMENT XIX -
Suffrage for women!
AMENDMENT XX -
Establishes Election Day for executive branch and defines their term. When Congress assembles and for how long etc
AMENDMENT XXI -
Prohibition, The repeal.
AMENDMENT XXII -
Presidents only get two terms. Thank god we learned this with FDR and not Trump
AMENDMENT XXIII -
DC gets a representative
Further rules about how reps work
AMENDMENT XXIV -
No poll tax. Voting rights.
AMENDMENT XXV -
How the executive branch is organized
AMENDMENT XXVI -
Voting age is 18
AMENDMENT XXVII -
No law, varying the compensation for the services of the Senators and Representatives, shall take effect, until an election of representatives shall have intervened.
The reps meet to decide their salary. You can’t just decide not to pay senators.
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Since May 1, 2022 (only 38 days) there has been 75 mass shootings resulting in over 90 people losing their lives & 380 people suffering from these horrific acts. I feel many of us have become numb to this. Too often we forget to acknowledge that these “events” are preventable. Our mothers, brothers, fathers, sisters, aunts, uncles, grandparents, friends. Our children are at risk. I’m not here saying we should ban all firearms, I feel that’s being irrational, rather, saying to vote for progression of laws to create regulations to limit these type of preventable events. If you are a law abiding gun owner none of this will affect you & should be welcomed. I know some say “guns don’t kill people, people kill people.” that’s the point. People are using guns to kill people. There lies the problem. Creating systems that have longer waiting periods to complete full background checks, the need for tests to show that you can practice safe ownership as well as proper discharge of your weapon. Like acquiring your license to drive you have to take a test, pass a test, be a responsible driver to maintain your license, etc. I do, however, firmly believe that ownership of an AR weapon should not be allowed to own or purchase by any public civilian. These weapons were designed with the sole purpose of war & to kill whatever you point and pull the trigger at. Lumping these weapons into the 2nd amendment is very dangerous & incredibly irresponsible. These weapons were developed over 150+ years after the amendment was created. If you are a responsible owner then obviously this doesn’t apply to you because you’ve gone through (hopefully) the proper channels in order to acquire your firearm. We can’t continue down this path to only to come back astonished that these are still occurring. Collectively we have to do something. We have to use our voices & our right to vote. We have to make the change happen & not wait for it to happen on its own. If you don’t like how things are… you must exercise your responsibility to vote out those who no longer represent your best interests and aren’t working for you, because they work for you. Not the other way around. https://www.instagram.com/p/CejxK4spfk4/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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On Gun Laws
What follows is my naive take on gun safety and laws around ownership.
The Second Amendment to the Constitution states:
A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed.
Here’s when I start asking stupid questions, I’m not a lawyer, please be kind.
I’m thinking about states like California who have pretty strict laws around guns but the recent [Supreme Court decision](www.scotusblog.com/2022/06/i…> may make Californians less safe.
Could California, or any state with tight gun regulations, create a militia program that requires gun owners to register their firearms, be trained on their use at least once a year, buy insurance for each gun, pass any psychological tests, pass background checks and require a permit, or license, that shows they’re qualified to own and fire their guns? Folks in the military are required to demonstrate their proficiency with their weapons once a year.
Everyone likes to skip the “A well regulated Militia” bit. I typically hear ”the Second Amendment says I can have a gun.”
Sure, ok, it says you can have a gun as part of a well regulated militia. It doesn’t say what type of gun, or you can own as many as you’d like, or that you don’t need a license to own it, or that you can be untrained.
If it’s legally possible states that would like to restrict access to weapons of war should, if they can, make state sponsored militias, with strict rules around ownership. It seems a good first step to squashing mass killing incidents.
Another thing. Banning weapons of war for anything outside of the military seems the reasonable thing to do. Folks that say they need an AR-15 for hunting are full of crap. You don’t need one for hunting. Just admit that you have a thing for killing weapons, a machismo if you will, and get on with it. There are plenty of specialized weapons for hunting. You’re not going to hunt bird with an AR-15. You’d never hit anything in the air.
I was a hunter as a kid. I went to training to learn how to properly handle a shotgun for bird hunting and had to demonstrate I could be responsible with it. I’m pretty certain the training I received was backed by the NRA, but I’m not 100% sure.
I hope we can eliminate mass murder in America, soon.
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The past month has seen some amazing rulings by the court that clearly demonstrate the conservative ideology that rules the present court. They include:
Reversing Roe v. Wade and federal protection on abortion
Enlarged the Second Amendment, favoring gun owners
Redefine First Amendment allowing more prayer in public settings and requiring more government funding for religious education
Rejecting the Biden administration's effort to stop the spread of Covid-19 with a vaccination rule
Limiting the Biden effort to have the EPA regulate emissions in coal and other industries to counteract climate change
For me the last case was the icing on the cake. The conservative supermajority has reinvented the Supreme Court to now be a conservative activist court that will clearly support a conservative agenda. The Catholic Church (which favored the first and third ruling) publicaly expressed concern over the second, fourth and fifth ruling. On the EPA ruling the USCCB says
We are, therefore, disappointed today that following the Supreme Court’s interpretation of the Clean Air Act the EPA will have significantly restricted authority to regulate greenhouse gases from power plants. Both reasonable regulation and legislation are critical for addressing the threat and challenges of climate change. We call upon Congress to give the EPA the necessary authority to meaningfully regulate greenhouse gases.
Of great concern is the expressed opinion of justice Clarence Thomas during the Dobbs v. Jackson Women's Health Organization ruling where he seemed to suggest that
Thomas called for the court to abandon its reliance on what’s known as “substantive due process.” This is the notion that the 14th Amendment guarantee against depriving individuals of liberty without due process of law encompasses a right to privacy, among other protections.
The Washington Post article that considered the implications of this statement suggested that this is a conservative opinion that should concern us all.
So if the majority is right in its legal analysis, all those decisions were wrong,” the dissenters noted. “And if that is true, it is impossible to understand (as a matter of logic and principle) how the majority can say that its opinion today does not threaten — does not even ‘undermine’ — any number of other constitutional rights.
We live in a new day. We need to recognize that our Supreme Court is a conservative activist court. My daughter had recently asked what we can do about that beyond the protest that her generation is looking at doing. Can we have President Biden pack the court with liberal judges, no! FDR attempted that once and that did not go well. He was immensely popular, but everyone could see that such an action would violate the much-needed division between our branches of government.
This is our reality, in a sense we have to accept this. My response to my daughter is that the best response we can give is to galvanize the American people who have been comfortably inactive with their civic responsibility, the moderate majority and political independents, and get them to recognize our national values and to buy into the system. This weekend I will be showing my daughter the G-Word film by Netflix so she can appreciate what Government does and what civic responsibility can be.
No longer can we dismiss our civic responsibility. No longer can we dismiss both parties, as corrupt as they both can be (no human institution is ever perfect or incorruptible) we all need to recognize that there is a difference between the Democrats and the Republicans, we need to appreciate that difference and vote accordingly. If our American values are not found their political platform, then we can also organize around an independent platform and influence the political system that way. The court will change when Democrats have a solid majority. We can influence their platform with organized engagement that transforms them so they can respond to the social, economic and environmental justice issues we need nationally and globally. The Republicans will not do this, we know where they stand and this too we must accept. The Democrats need to change their platform and once again prioritize our lost liberal and social values.
Since the 1980's the words government and liberal were made into dirty words. In an attempt to undermine the American government and our liberal tradition Ronald Reagan once said "the most terrifying words in the English language are: "I'm from the government and I'm here to help." We must now bury this statement. No longer can we afford to dismiss the values and systems that our nation once believed in. We are a liberal nation founded on liberal principles, let's own this once again and be proud of what America truly means. Let's defend our cherished system of government not by insurrection or by violating one branch of government with another but by picking up our civic responsibility and making sure that government by the people and for the people is truly that.
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active shooter practice drills traumatized one of my students. we had to tell the kids in my program a few days before the random one bc they’re sed kids and he burst into tears ran to me grabbed my arm and cried. it killed me it took about an hour for me to calm him down. he asked me if i could hide with him and i had to tell him i couldn’t because i had to stay by the door he looked at me and said i don’t want you to get shot. as a staff member it’s our job to get between a bullet and a student. we aren’t combat soldiers we’re teachers that should not have to be in this situation.
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Who's Rights are they talking about?
People who talk about personal freedom be it to say whatever they want or something else really do not understand the meaning of the word if they start parading and disrupting other peoples lives.
If you think it is all about you well I am sorry for you. It is not about you at all. Freedom is granted by a society or group. In the age of enlightenment philosophers twisted themselves in knots. A major figure was John Locke who described people as fundamentally free in "a state of nature". That is a person alone naked and owing nothing to anyone. Once one other person shows up it changes. He tried to figure that all out formally.
If this one other person has a different opinion or needs or anything that does not align with the first "S.O.N" person somebodies absolute freedom ends. More than one person means there is now a social need for consensus. That means some things are allowed and others are not.
Oh to be clear a lot of Locke's writing was quoted and excerpted by one Thomas Jefferson for a document that the USA is so proud of. The Declaration of Independence. Oh and he was a slave owner.
For people who are of the conservative bent, no rights have ever been granted by conservatives. Granting rights and such is the very definition of liberal.
For example a man desires sex and sees a woman. Is he free to just take it? Would anyone claim he has that right as he feels free to do as HE pleases? If freedom that powerful? Is Rape OK in their world? Does anyone disagree that there are limits? Those limits exist and determine the social context and culture. Bottom line is, no one is absolutely free.
I for one can voice my opinion freely as long as I stay within defined constraints. I cannot, and frankly would not rant about me being racially superior and demand extra privileges. That is my personal limit defined by my own opinion and societies external hate laws.
If I mention gun control an army of trolls will threaten and attack me. They make sure I know I am not free to criticize them though they cause horrible harm. I was going to say unimaginable harm, but we don't have to imagine it. The news describes what happens in a nation with uncontrolled violence. They are special people and do not care that their freedom involves denying other people theirs. Murder is OK by them.
Fundamentally the true definition of freedom is being free to do anything that does not infringe on someone else's rights. Do what you want, except what does me harm.
So we have a bunch of thought lemmings protesting regulations that they do not like. Those regulations are to protect people from harm. They do not care that they threaten other people with their actions. They do not acknowledge that 95% of the people disagree with them. They are special.
So you "muther Truckers" go the Fuck home and take your nazi flags and demands for special privileges back under the rock you live under.
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I say we do this the exact opposite, I say we regulate people's car's like firearms.
If the car is to short, you need an approved tax stamp from the government, approval from the highest local police official in your area for you to have and store it.
If your car is a high capacity vehicle, meaning it holds more than 4 people, you have to affix a device to those extra seats so they cannot be used.
If your vehicle holds one or more cosmetic features in common with any other vehicle that has been deemed high risk or dangerous on the road you will face special insurance, restrictive use and storages regulations and be subject to civil and criminal adjudication. Those features could be, but not limited to;
Tires
engines
runs on fuel
has seats
can go more than 15 miles per hour
has a color
has mirrors
I know that all seems so silly but is what they have done with firearms since 1934. So when people talk about regulating firearms', a (R)ight with cars, a privilege. I always ask them how they would feel if we just treated car's like firearms.
The fact is cars kill more people than gun crime every year. In 2019, the most recent numbers on both firearm's and car deaths, 10,258 people were killed in gun crimes, while the 726 people who used their firearms in the defense of themselves or others to SAVE people. The more than 21K people who chose to use a firearm to end their lives are not included in this number because that number is not included in the auto crash numbers. 33,244 people were killed by or in cars, causing billion in damage, medical costs, insurance payouts, and civil litigation.
If cars were regulated like guns, you know mostly on a state by state basis, I really doubt anyone who owns a vehicle would want that kind of regulation and cost put around their necks like it is for gun owners.
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Vampire Nagito Komaeda x Ultimate Monster Hunter reader - Part 2 (Supernatural AU)
Part 1
WARNINGS: Blood Drinking, Vampire Bites
Please excuse any grammar mistakes. I think I got most but I edited this at 5 A.M. ... I will go back over it and scan for errors soon.
- Admin Kokichi
Hours passed since your unfortunate encounter, and your heart and mind had finally shaken off the creeps. After finishing your little self-guided tour of campus, you headed to the Main Course dorms to find your room. Your luggage was arranged to come later that evening, but you wanted to see the dorms for yourself now with little else to do.
Once you shut the door, the warmth of the sunlight gave way to a wave of the best air conditioning money could buy. The place looked very clean and tidy, with nothing out of place save for a few displaced balls and plastic cups atop a pool table and what appeared to be forgotten lecture notes on a shelf above a central fireplace. This must be the common area, a lounge for the most deserving students in the world!
Behind the fireplace on either side were two sets of pretentious-looking stairs that led up to what you assumed were the actual dorm rooms. You searched your pocket for your student key card. You flipped it around over and over again in your hand, searching.
“What?” You weren’t going crazy, were you? Neither floor nor room number were indicated on your card. You pulled your phone out, quickly sifting through emails and texts. Nope. Nowhere, at any point, had the housing department told you exactly what room was yours. Way to drop the ball, Kirigiri… you sighed, finding this situation both a bit humorous and exasperating considering the status of the school.
Well, you were a last minute transfer. There were bound to be slip-ups.
Sighing, you resigned to sit, relax for a few minutes, then call the housing department, or simply walk over to the main office building if it was still open.
"Maybe I'll just..." you decided you'd earned the two minute break and walked leisurely over to one of the beige leather seats. Sitting, you set your chin into your hand propped up by your elbow on the arm of the chair, and began to think of how much you missed your tools. School regulations didn’t allow poisons, crossbows, guns and silver bullets inside the dorms... for obvious reasons. Even students of the blade or other offensive disciplines had to keep all sharp and lethal objects in their practice rooms and out of the dorms (not that all of them followed these rules). Students were allowed to customize and adjust their uniforms according to their talent, but you couldn’t even do that, what with all of the tools of your trade being lethal or unexplainable to the ignorant masses.
It felt weird, not having a wooden stake strapped to your ankle, not having wolfsbane hidden away in a compartment on your belt. You felt out of place, without knives and rune-inlaid whips hidden on your person... uncomfortable. This school really wasn’t for you.
"Ah, it’s you!" A voice came from behind.
"Huh?" You gasped, flying up from your seat, thoroughly startled. Your knee banged off of the coffee table in front of it, leaving you feeling like an absolute buffoon. Your hand instantly flew to your leg, and you hissed softly in pain.
“Whoops! Didn’t mean to startle you, sorry!”
Your eyes followed the voice all the way up the stairs to its owner. Nagito was scrambling down the stairs toward you apologetically, feeling responsible for your blunder. He reached his hands out as of to offer you his aid, but froze upon seeing you take a step backward. He stopped directly in front of you, clearing his throat before continuing.
“What are you doing here? You don’t have to start classes yet?” You stared into his eyes, and a tremble ran up your spine. The greenish-grey, glistening spheres appeared icy and far away. “Well?" When you didn't respond, he spoke up again.
"I uh... um..."
"You have a way with words, I see, just like when we met earlier today." He teased, laughing warmly. He had one of those genuine smiles, where the eyes exude friendliness just as much as the mouth, and their misty shine entranced you deeply. He laughed again, a bit awkwardly as you merely gawked at him. A light blush formed on his cheeks and he swept some of his cloud-like hair away from his forehead. He held the eye contact, though, searching your mind for something, anything to tell him more about you. You felt a stinging begin, like a migraine forming in the depths of your brain.
You shook your head roughly, tearing your eyes away from his gaze. How could you have fallen for that one?
Vampires could very easily compel the mortal mind, put one in a mind-hazing trance with direct eye contact alone. Being the offspring of one of the best hunters ever born, you were trained to notice when the bloodsuckers made their attempts to ensnare your mind or read it like a book. That headache was your warning sign, the last defense of a disciplined mind, but it shouldn’t have even of gotten that far.
You were slipping… why did this vampire feel… different?
More importantly, you forced your mind to change the subject, how long had he been trancing other students? Was he doing this on purpose? Some vampires simply forgot their own strengths at times. Did Kirigiri know? Is this dangerous creature simply going around unchecked... doing whatever the hell he likes?!
He coughed, his eyebrows furrowing with a sudden seriousness. He’d been searching your mind, looking around desperately for a clue, a story, a hint, and just as soon as he thought he’d found an interesting page to start reading, the book was snapped close in front of him. He was pushed out in an effort that seemed practiced, skillful. You saw the discontent lining his features, and decided you needed you stop this. You two needed to be on the same page, before he tried anything else on you; something stupid, or more bold. You couldn’t keep up this charade any longer. You had a feeling he was feeling the same way.
"Stop that.” You spoke sternly, concisely, confidently. He needed to know not to try that shit again, that you would not simply be prey like others, not mentally nor physically. His mouth formed a smirk, one of relief and something like acknowledging the other player in a game.
“Ahh~ so I see that I was correct after all. Are we done playing pretend now? Awww, I was actually having a lot of fun! It was quite stimulating, actually.” He frowned, pouting like a child called home at dusk after playing outside all day.
“I’m afraid so. Sorry to disappoint you,” you crossed your arms over your chest defiantly,” and I don’t appreciate my mind being picked and prodded at. That’s extremely disrespectful, you know? That’s none of your business. If you’re doing that to people on the regular around campus, I will inform the headmaster.” You held a finger out, poking his chest firmly and with aplomb, and he only smiled in response, finding this attempt to intimidate him rather adorable. He held in a giggle behind his hand, not wanting to anger you. “Am I amusing to you?” You threw him a cross look, and he held his hands up in surrender.
“No, of course not! I was just thinking, well... how do you know? About me, I mean?”
You face went blank. You weren’t expecting this question, though you probably should have been. There was no possible way to answer this honestly. What were you supposed to say? The headmaster forbade you from telling anyone of your true talent. Disregarding that point, what would this vampire do to you once he found out you were one of those sworn to kill his kind? You didn’t have any means of defending yourself at present. You couldn’t outrun him, or fight back with raw strength. He couldn’t do anything right? He wouldn’t… if he were that brash, there’s no way Kirigiri would’ve let him enroll here in the first place. He has to be on excellent behavior to attend Hope’s Peak, right?
You blinked once, twice. He was waiting for a response, staring patiently. You needed a response, and quickly.
“W-what are you doing here?” Nice. Perfect.
“Huh?” His head tilted, taken aback by the curveball you threw his way.
“W-well you asked what I’m doing here, and you’re right, if I were starting classes today, I would be in one right now. We have the same core classes outside of the individualized training of our talent specialization. I saw the class rosters and schedules! I know you should be in class right now as well!” You were getting louder with every word, feeling very cornered and vulnerable at the moment. If you had just even one weapon on you… just one…
“Well, uh…” now you had him. You smirked, feeling pretty clever at the moment. “I forgot my books... just my luck haha,” he countered, “So I came back to my room to get them!”
“Then where are they?” And sure enough, he had nothing on him but the clothes on his back.
“Hmm… well I came through the second floor entrance,” he gestured over his back “...and I was about to head to my room but I got uhhh… distracted I guess you could say. I really am hopeless.” There was that big, dumb, goofy grin again. Your mind took a second, but then it clicked.
“...You smelled me…” you spoke slowly, cautiously.
“Uh… I guess yeah. You could say that. Well that’s exactly what happened, really. I suppose I am glad we ended our little farce! Would’ve been hard to explain that one...” his index finger reached up, scratching at the side of his mouth pensively.
“You really are a creep!”
“Yeah, I’m the worst, I know...” Why was he smiling while saying this? “I’m sorry, again. Usually, it’s not like this. Of course I admire our talented peers and am drawn to them as they are pinnacles of hope and the building blocks of the future, but...” he pantomimed through the air grandly, “ I am very conditioned to the human scent. It doesn’t usually alert me nowadays. I dunno… guess the... tantalizing smell of a particularly interesting human was enough to… stir me.” He smirked almost tauntingly. Your eyes widened, but narrowed again immediately. You would not show him weakness.
“Stop that.” You scowled.
“Apologies, (Y/N). Just speaking my mind. I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’m just sort of a disgusting waste of space.” Your scowl melted into a sort of sympathetic frown despite yourself. Did he really mean that? Why would he say that about himself? Vampires were usually more vain on the spectrum of supernatural beings. “I just hold Main Course students in really high esteem, and you’re no exception... actually, far from it. Ever since I met you this morning, you’ve been on my mind more then most mortals… strange...” he seemed lost in his own little world. What? What the hell was going on in his crazy little head? The silence caught his attention, and he seemed to remember you were there as well, looking into your eyes again. He caught himself, making sure to not to make such direct eye contact with you. When he was in these weird moods, he never could quite control his more passive abilities and instincts. “Anyway... yeah, it’s unfortunate that I’m going to be missing part of class now… not that I don’t enjoy the pleasant surprise! I knew there was something special about you right off the bat!" Would he still think that after he knew your true calling? You looked to your right, thankful for the large staircase to escape to. He was giving you unsettling vibes once again.
Supernatural beings were known to imprint easily on mortals. Some saw them as beautiful, perplexing, ethereal in their impermanence. Some killed and ate them just because devouring humans, or torturing them until the panicked aura of their tiny, weak souls radiated around the room and feeling that temporary fragility, that adrenaline, was the only way they themselves could feel human. This urge to feel close to humanity was only doubled, dangerously so, in supernaturals who were once human themselves. It was an insatiable need to return to that normalcy, that frailty.
Swiftly, you scampered over to the bottom step to put some distance between you and the increasingly imposing immortal before you.
"Ah, I see. Well, anyway, thanks I suppose. I uh..." you grinned clumsily. “I was just looking for my room, albeit unsuccessfully. You can go ahead and get your books now! I don’t want to hold you up any longer!”
"I can help! It’s no big deal. The way they get students moved in here can sometimes be confusing. Actually, they put your room number on the student portal, not your card or paperwork, heh! And they don’t even tell you, leave you to find out yourself!” He pulled a large, black rectangle from his pocket, crossing the distance to wave it in front of you like a treat.
What the...? You patted down your shirt and bottoms alike.
“Is that my phone? How the hell-?!”
“Ah, yeah, sorry about that! I swiped it from you when I first came downstairs! I thought it’d help me get to know you better, had you not been willing to divulge the knowledge you have of my kind’s existence.” Once again he was calm, cool and casual whilst in the midst of saying such unusual words. What was this guy’s deal? “Here, you can have it back!”
“Yeah, I should hope so!” You reached out to snatch your phone from his hand, and it was like time froze.
The moment your fingertips touched his own in the exchange, your indignant eyes met his, and saw something feral flicker in them. The phone switched hands, and a spark of sorts traveled through your skin and into his. As you pulled back, his hand shot out, taking a tight grip around your wrist.
Your cheeks warmed up, at once flustered when the atmosphere changed drastically. Your eyes dilated in panic and his lips moved forward, resting upon your hand. He seemed to tense up, a rigidness taking up his entire body. His closed eyes opened wide to match your own and he inhaled deeply of the skin of your knuckles. You pulled away quickly, spooked.
"S-something wrong? Why are you so weird? I’ve never met any of your kind quite like you." You rubbed your hand curiously.
“So, you’ve met others?” It was clear he was trying to hold back something deep inside of him that begged to crawl out, his eye twitching slightly.
“Answer my question.”
"No, of course not... you just smell... nice, as I said before." He looked away from you, hand extending to guide you upstairs and in the right direction, but your brain was telling you not to go anywhere with him in tow.
“I- I can find my way myself, but thanks!” You began logging into the Hope’s Peak student portal through your phone’s browser, and quickly looking through your profile to find your room code and number.
“I insist!” He followed you up the stairs, trailing after your scent like a starved hound. Why couldn't he just get lost? Your thoughts raced anxiously. If you’d had your equipment on you, he would’ve been long dead. He was exhausting, and he didn't feel… safe. “Found it?” he inquired over your shoulder. As you reached the top of the steps, you began to feel your blood boil, but you knew not the true cause of this involuntary reaction.
Your last little exchange left you feeling foolish and naive. How could you have let a vampire get that close? Why would you let him indulge in the scent of you knowing how easy it was for them to take advantage of humans? You were royally pissed off, and looking for a way to expel that rage, to hurt someone or something the way you were hurting inside.
“I know you’re a vampire because I kill them. My whole family does. It’s essential to be able to identify one in my line of work. I’d be a pretty shitty hunter if I couldn’t do even that, and you aren’t exactly good at hiding it.” You found your door, swiping your keycard into the extremely sleek, high-tech lock system, and forcing it open a bit too harshly. The frustration you tried to hide in your voice was evident in your actions. Nagito halted, stilled stiff by your suddenly bitter words.
“Ah,” he cleared his throat, also hiding emotions of his own, “The Ultimate Hunter... it makes sense now.” He recalled seeing your title along with your name on his own school portal. How did he miss that one?
“Yeah, so maybe you should get lost.” Heartlessly, you began to close the door on him, now fully inside the spacey room that was bare save for a luxurious bed and some basic, modern furniture. “Hn?” A soft gasp left your throat when a polished shoe wedged itself inside the door, stopping you. You looked up, your body filling the crack in the door, and met Nagito’s eyes. There was that far away look again. His eyes were cloudy, tameless, wild.
“Why must you be so harsh?” His eyes bore into your own now, all inflection and kindness gone from his tone. “I understand you must hate my kind, and now I can appreciate why you reacted so aversely to my voice, my touch, my presence before, but have I done anything to harm you?” You were beginning to get scared now, reaching instinctively for your belt and finding it absent from your pristine uniform.
“I think you should leave. We obviously aren’t meant to be acquaintances.” You refused to let your voice shake. This might be a turning point, a critical moment. Vampires were never so dangerous as when they knew their prey was afraid.
“It’s your turn to answer me, now~” Nagito forced himself in the doorway nonchalantly, approaching your slowly retreating form into the middle of your room. You backed away, with him meeting every step.
“If you must know, you have offended me, yes. Trying to read my mind-”
“An accident.”
“Stealing my phone-”
“A precaution.”
“Smelling my blood like a pervert, twice!” He smirked.
“A natural, harmless instinct.”
“Even so...” Your eyes were on his own, obviously not focused on his body, and he took this opportunity to reach down, grasping lightly at your hand once again.
“Even so, what? Those are all petty misunderstandings. Ahhh~” his cold, pointed nose skimmed across the back of your hand once again as he brought it to his face. This time, when you tried to pull away, he held fast, and warning signals flashed in your mind. “Just as I thought! Your scent appeals to me so because you are a shining beacon of hope! I see it now! It’s all coming to me! You protect the world from those of my kind who would seek to destroy it! How wonderful!” His cheek bumped across your knuckles, and you failed once again to pull away.
“N-Nagito. Stop. This is.... you must consider context. If we weren’t in school right now, if we were just on the street meeting like this-”
“You wouldn’t do anything~ because I’m allied and protected~” He sung, his eyes twitching again, lids fluttering softly. Your heart dropped into your stomach. He was right.
You were trying to resist, but he was making it so damn hard. It shouldn’t be this hard. You found supernatural beings repulsive. Your father did as well. And his father did! They weren’t trustworthy. Their words were always the lies of a wolf in sheep’s clothing. They could charm and glamour weaker mortals with ease and enjoyed it! And you certainly were not a weaker mortal! You found joy in killing them... didn’t you?
“What you’re doing now is-”
“It’s strange, hah~ so strange~ I haven’t felt this inspired, this jittery about a mortal in such a long time... haha~ this excitement! I knew it! I knew you were special! You’re the true hope I’ve been looking for! The Ultimate of all Ultimates that will guide our classmates into their roles as the protectors and leaders that will inherit this earth!” He was manic now, inhaling deeply, raggedly onto your skin. One hand crushed your wrist into his own chest, the other held your hand so that it stayed splayed out flat for his access. There was something primal in his eyes. He was quickly becoming unstable. It was a perilous state so common to his kind, but yet it felt still so incredibly unique to Nagito himself, like it was not his immortality but his own character that caused this sudden shift in behavior.
“Nagito! You sound like a lunatic! Let go, you’re hurting me!” Tears threatened to fall from your eyes. You were strong, usually able to ignore some measure of physical pain, but the way his fingers dug into your wrist coupled with the consternation you felt at the situation set your nerves aflame. Once again you reached instinctively for a weapon or poison you did not have.
“Am I? I’m sorry. It’s just... I wonder...” You didn’t like where this was going at all. His chest shook with arousal , a bit of drool dripping from the fangs now on display in his mouth, which hung open in his state of reverie. “I wonder what this this hope tastes like... this pure, concentrated source of unbridled hope!” His voice shook, and you pushed at his chest with your free hand. He didn’t budge an inch. It was like he didn’t even notice your actions. “I know I’m unworthy, that a piece of trash like me doesn’t deserve to taste you... but I feel like now that I’m this close, haha~ I can’t stop myself! Truly, truly it’s a grand misfortune that a talentless, meaningless, soulless abomination like myself even dares to take part in such a feast! But...” He lowered his lips to your wrist.
“Nagito, stop! You can’t do this!” You began to kick and struggle, to scratch and tear at his clothes, to claw at any exposed skin, leaving marks across his cheek and arms. “If you do this, you’ll lose your protection!” His top lip pulled back, something like a snarl emanating from his throat. Clearly that approach wouldn’t work. “You’ll be expelled!” You tried the next deterrent on your mind. Wow, you must’ve been the worst Super High-School Level Monster Hunter in history. Day 1: fooled into a vampire’s clutches. His inhumanely sharp canines grazed the skin of your wrist, feeling your pulse race beneath the surface. He was entranced; there was no stopping this now. A human, without weapons, without enchantments or defenses, without repellants, bombs, herbs, poisons, silver, or means of healing, was no match for a supernatural being. “Please! Please, you- don’t do this!” a last effort. Why did you even try? These savages never sympathized with begging and pleading. They were killers. You were an imbecile to let your guard down around Komaeda for even a second.
His fangs sunk deeply into your skin, piercing a vein. You yelped out in pain, pulling at his hair and tugging your wrist back, which only nestled his fangs in deeper. You whimpered, little rivulets of your vital fluid running out of his mouth and down to your elbow. He was moaning in delirium, enraptured in the sensation of your blood running down his throat. You wanted to yell, to scream for help, but something inside you was hesitant and holding you back. Something inside you didn’t want anyone to find out about this, to find you two like this.
“Mmmh~” Nagito’s tongue swirled around the puncture wounds, his lips latched on like a leech. He drank freely, deeply, seemingly careless of how much blood he was taking. It’d been a long time since he’d felt the exhilaration of feeding from true prey. These days they had him on willing donors and blood bags. Nothing compared to the flavor of adrenaline and fear in the bloodstream, no matter how much he hated himself for indulging in it.
“Naaagi-t-” You stumbled backwards a step, wishing so desperately that you weren’t such an obedient student, that you’d deemed it justified to slip a stake, a knife, anything under your shirt. Your punches, your willful attacks on his abdomen, and the kicks to his knees began to slow down. They were losing the fight behind them, and yet, you would not give up. “St-tt-oo-” He continued to slurp and suck at your wrist, taking no note of the way you slowly were slipping to your knees.
The corners of your vision began to cloud and darken. Your head was ringing, much like a time you’d been left concussed after one of your first hunts. This might as well have been one of your first encounters with the supernatural world, with how badly you’d blundered every step.
Now on your knees, your head hanging limply down into your chest with your arm raised and pulled taut, trailing up to the vampire’s mouth, you felt yourself slipping. Finally, your vision began to fade for the last time, and you fell unconscious. The last thing your mind registered was the sound of Nagito sighing blissfully as he finally detached from your flesh, followed by the sound of frenzied laughter.
#vampire#nagito komaeda#nagito x reader#x reader#reader insert#danganronpa#super danganronpa 2#sdr2 goodbye despair#danganronpa v3#danganronpa killing harmony#Trigger happy havoc#fanfiction#vampire au#gender neutral reader#y/n#s/o#blood drinking#vampire feeding#vampire bite#ultimate SHSL#scenarios#headcanon#imagines#enemies to friends to lovers#angst#female reader#male reader#monster au#yandere#fluff
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Semi-auto is the canary in the coal mine for if they’re willing to allow gun rights, at all.
Okay I want you to imagine this.
There’s this country, right? Funny place. They set into law, “ well regulated transportation, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear conveyance animals and transportation vehicles, shall not be infringed.”
But, people don’t like horses. Horses or cars. The future they envision, nobody drives a car or rides a horse. Why should they when society has improved to where you don’t need to live outside of a city or a suburb? Why not just go in circles on the monorail or only where the paved roads lead? Why do you NEED a horse or a car?
Horses or cars represent going wherever you want, whenever you want, and certain people would rather you not even HAVE that choice, wise or unwise. Much the way a controlling, authoritarian parent would rather their child not have access to transportation to leave the home- at all. Because they can’t leave you, if they can’t travel.
So the people that hate horses and cars- they decide, “We can’t TECHNICALLY blanket ban horses. However, we can ban the SIZE of horses and the NUMBER of horses you own can be legislated and mitigated. So, here, here are your new rules.”
And the new rules state that you aren’t allowed to own drought horses anymore. For work, or for leisure, or for transportation. Why? “Because those are military grade horses. You don’t NEED a military grade horse. You are a civilian, you have no use for a military grade horse. But, you’re allowed to have twice as many ponies as you’re allowed horses! Why not invest more in ponies, and leave this drought horse issue to rest?”
With the stroke of a pen, they defeat the purpose of the freedom of transportation rights by criminalizing your right to own a horse. The roads and the bridges are built to specification that the military be able to pass through them anyway; the number of deaths or problems caused by civilians and their transportation animals is always very small per year for the convenience and security a large transport animal brings. Logically, there’s absolutely no reason to stamp down on a right that does so much good and does so little evil, but people that want to make sure you can’t move heavy things in very little time with very little effort and very little actual social organization HATE that individuals are allowed to have big horses.
So they eliminate the ability to own big horses. And now all you have is ponies.
The reason you aren’t allowed these big horses anymore is bullshit. They don’t want you to have horses, whatsoever.
Next problem, a health ordinance against equines, both large and small. You cannot drive your horses anywhere without also some convoluted contraption to collect and store their poop. But that’s fine, that’s an easy fix. You store all the poop they drop so no one has to worry about filthy pony poop everywhere. Issue resolved. The regulatory body says that’s still not enough, because of the possibility you might leave pony poop around. So there’s argument on that issue.
So next they decide that there will be new laws concerning the fact that a very small minority of people are allergic to horses. Now you can’t bring your animals into town or transport with them because there’s a risk, however small, that someone immuno-compromised might have a reaction and need hospitalization or they’d die.
So against all odds they breed a horse or pony up to regulatory control, as ridiculous as it is. They only poop once a day and do it at home, before leaving. They somehow make it so the horse is hypo-allergenic to humans, so you CAN’T be allergic to it.
Then they decide to legislate against ponies. Now only ponies just-a-bit-smaller than that are allowed on public roads.
Now they institute an arbitrary ban on ponies that are, “very good runners.” Because of the risk of the very good runners getting out of control from their owners and handlers and going on a kick-things spree. Can’t have long-range ponies, anymore. It becomes illegal to have a pony whose metabolism lets them roam long distances between rests.
Just the entire process is this slow walk designed to make owning these horses, that you’re constitiutionally allowed to do, a legal minefield, a financial burden, a large time consuming process, and just sucking all fulfillment out of something you’re allowed to do just to disincentivize you from partaking and enjoying something that was guaranteed to you by those that founded this country, knowing full well there’d be people that wanted you grounded, helpless and dependent on them as a source of protection, transportation and power. Forcing your compliance out of your own self-interest, because if you can’t provide for yourself, then you can’t say no when someone offers to do it for you in return for you bending your knee.
“What do you REALLY need a horse and transport for, anyway? The house is so comfortable.”
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Manipulative Power hungry Aunt torments my family for years. Costs her $300000
Dealt with my shitty manipulative abusive Aunt all my life, finally got revenge.
Players: Myself (M late 30s), Sister (3 year younger), Aunt (Older "Sister" to my Mother), Mother (Single Mom, adopted, no blood relation to my Aunt). Cousins (3 total, 1M, 2F. I have good relationships with them now, mostly).
My estranged father who had been living several counties over, is pretty much out of the picture by the time my parents got their divorce when I was 9. Due to financial hardship, we were forced to live with my Aunt and the nightmare of a household we would soon find ourselves in. My Aunt married into Georgia "Wealth" and you can figure out what that means on your own. She had 3 kids and eventually caught her husband having an affair. It's a huge scandal, she gets the house, the kids and a fat payout from the family attorney. This is important because my Aunt didn't do a damn thing in her life to earn her money, her house, her lifestyle or basically anything. She was born poor along with my Mom.
Under her household, she was drunk with power. Years of therapy have allowed me to recognize that certain people when in a position of power, get a perverse pleasure in ordering others to do their bidding. She was the strictest of authoritarians in every possible way you could imagine. Chores had to be completed by an exact specific time. Vacuuming by 3:45pm, Dishes by 3:55pm, Laundry days for my Mother us kids were Tues/Thurs 5:35pm-7:55pm. If it was still running, she would shut the power off for the two units. As we grew older, her own kids opted to stay with their father for full time custody and she had them on Weekends. Even they couldn't stand her when she was in charge and in the house. As time passed, she got them less and less opting for alternating weekends as Highschool activities took precedence over time with Mother.
For my sister and I, the large 6 bedroom house was not ours for the taking. My mom had to pay rent as well as rent for 1 bedroom as that was all she could afford on her salary. We had to share a bedroom until my second year of HS. All the while there was 1 spare unused bedroom available at all times. My Aunt needed this for "Guests" when they stayed over. Not one guest stayed there in the 10 years I was under that roof. Finally the church we attended told my Aunt to give up the spare bedroom so my sister can have her own room as it was "unhealthy" for two teenagers sharing a room together like that. That infuriated my Aunt because someone told her what to do in her own household. My sister and I got the brunt of her wrath. As my Mom's salary was tapped out, my sister and I had do extra chores like mowing the lawn, trimming the shrubs, cleaning the pool which we could no longer use without her being outside watching us.
My Aunt's behavior was becoming more and more outrageous and disconnected from society. For example, she had always snapped her fingers when she wanted to get someones attention, but it was getting far more frequent and she would blow up into a tirade if either my sister and I didn't obey. Her own kids tried repeatedly to tell her that the shit she was doing was wrong but she wouldn't listen.Eventually they wanted nothing to do with her outside of the home. She was a tyrant there and repeated intervention to get her to see the folly of her ways would fall on deaf ears.
I Snapped:
All through HS I had no confidence as a person. I was weak willed and growing ever distant from friends and society. I say this in all truthfulness and fear, that had circumstances continued the way they had been going, I could very well had taken a gun to myself or worse, to others around me. I was that bad off.
I had just graduated HS and started my first semester of community college. I'm 2 weeks into my classes attending from home when my Aunt drops a bomb on me. "You owe me $$$ for this months rent, the same amount for next months rent as well. It is the 27th after all. You're an Adult now. You're out of HS and working now, so you need to pay rent" The fuck? I blew a fucking gasket as I yelled back. "You can't just suddenly decide to charge me rent just because you feel like it. I need 30 days notice, I have rights".
My Aunt yelled at me some bullshit excuse that she had discussed this with my mother and it was decided that I needed to pay my own rent now. In some miraculous backbone move, of which I still have no idea how I stood up to her, I yelled right back at her, "If I'm an Adult, then treat me like and talk to me about rental agreements. I'll start paying you rent in 30 days starting the 1st." I turned my back to her and walked away with my fists balled tight. I was furious with anger but I walked away. My Aunt saw my fists from behind and screamed bloody murder that I was going to attack her. No, I wasn't. She snapped her fingers at me repeatedly on my tail to get my attention but I didn't turn around. I needed to cool off and clear my head. As I turned the corner, she grabbed my wrist hard yelling "I'm not finished talking to you". I threw my still balled up fist forward keeping with my stride to break her grip as I hadn't stopped my momentum. This caused her grabbing arm to slam hard into the corner of the wall that I had just turned into. She screamed in pain but I left the house and took off.
The aftermath of that incident was that my Aunt called the cops on me in an attempt to press charges. She was taken to the hospital and suffered a fractured wrist and she was put in a cast/sling (don't know as I never saw it and never inquired further). Her story changed every time she told the cops what happened while my story was spot on every time. I can still recall that moment down to the smell in the house, where I was facing, the working and non-working lightbulbs etc. Forever ingrained in me. I was kicked out of the house and I couldn't visit my sister or my Mom there at the house again. Fine by me as I didn't want to see my bitch Aunt ever again. I was happy to meet my Mother and sister at the local diner or outlet. We could be ourselves there and not hostages in our own home.
Years Later:
My Mom wised up and got out of that abusive relationship with her sister and moved out on her own. She got a temporary nice place, invested wisely and with the help from the church, got help getting a place of her own. In 2009 after the housing crisis, she bought her own place that she could never have afforded on her own prior the Market crash. But some good came out of it. She wept knowing my Sister (and her family) and myself can come visit any time and stay.
Over the years I've been able to forgive my Aunt. Not forget, Forgive. I've let go a lot of my anger and hatred toward her that she put me through. When she has no leverage or control over us, she's a somewhat decent person for being a total bitch of a person. My Cousin's have calmed down, heard my side of what happened those years ago and know what kind of person I am compared to what kind of person their Mother is. They chose to believe me and know I didn't hit her or strike her or beat her across the face like she continues to claim.
The Revenge:
While I have been able to forgive my Aunt for what she has done to me, I cannot forgive her for what she did to my Mother. Kept her in financial hardship for a decade while she sat on a bank account full of cash and assets. Or what she did to my Sister. Forced her to pay for damages because the water heater burst while my Aunt and Mother was away one weekend leaving my sister at home. She didn't discover the flooded rooms for hours. My Aunt's reasoning, "It was her responsibility to watch the house." Not the responsibility of the home owner to maintain/replace the water heater before it goes. Lets leave that Upfront $5000 financial burden before the Flood insurance kicks in on a 16 year old girl.
I've had little to no contact with my Aunt since I was kicked out of the house nearly 2 decades ago. But I do keep in constant contact with my cousins. While I'm not going to divulge what I do for a living, I can say that I work with and for the Government. I've worked my ass off getting to where I'm at today. I'm known for being truthful, wise and giving good advise when asked. Because of this, I often talk financially with my cousins. All of whom are money-smart and are doing well for themselves. They often then relay this information to their scheming mother who has no mind for business and investments. All that money she got from her house sale, her divorce settlement, her previous investments is pretty much gone. I spent YEARS planning on the perfect trap and it took a long time to prepare everything to make sure everything appeared right.
IANAL and I don't pretend to know the law but I do know the regulations and laws pertaining to insider information. This is not that. 100% certain of it and if I ever go to court, I know my lawyer has a solid case in my defense. But is this a grey area, most definitely. I let slip to my Cousins about some future real estate plans near my Aunt's new area of living. It "may" be worth a lot more because of future development taking place in the area. All of that was true and backed up by what was in the News paper and New Construction signs that newly appeared on Google Maps (at the time). The rest was fabricated by myself backed up by actual information I looked up on real estate websites and on projects I was working on through my work.
The Telephone game takes place and a few weeks later I presume, my Aunt starts making phone calls to real estate agents trying to buy lots of Land in the undeveloped shitty area of her new house. Over the course of a few months to a half a year, she spends $300,000 of her last remaining savings on land hoping it will pay out when the area around it gets developed in the upcoming years.
Only, HUD/Government/City doesn't have any plans to develop in those immediate areas. In fact, analysis showed that building in those areas was poor planning and would cost the tax payers twice to three times as much as the land was not environmentally sound. It was best to build 6 miles away.
This post was long overdue because it's been over 2 years since my Aunt purchased Land that is basically worthless. See, she won't sell the land unless she gets at least the same price she paid for it because she's the OWNER of that land. Can't tell her what to do on her own land. Sweet Karma strikes in a way I couldn't possibly have foreseen. My cousin informed me that the value of the land has decreased significantly because it's not environmentally sound to build anything commercial there. But it's zoned for commercial use. Currently 3 of the 4 blocks of land she purchased are just weed farms next to eye sore abandoned buildings or industrial complexes. Nobody can build on it and nor does anyone want to buy it. Sucks to be her!
Best part is, my cousins have absolutely no idea that I set them up for their Mother to take the fall. These environmental results are relatively new and the perfect cover to say why the Project changed locations 6 miles away.
TL:DR Abusive Aunt torments my family and myself for a decade and more. Decades later, I am in a position to trick her buying worthless land. Icing on the cake, that land can't be used for it's intended purpose and has devalued significantly.
(source) story by (/u/Limecherrry)
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Sleep With One Eye Open
Notes: Vernrot belongs to @raitrolling!
Thrixe Varzim || 11.5 sweeps || Vernrot || Present Night
It’s the night after you made it to Vernrot, threw that obnoxious cusp into the harbor, and slept over at Lusien’s hive. But you need to stay at a hotel the rest of the time; you won’t trespass on his hospitality like that. Plus, the more time you spend around him, the more risk he’ll see you as...never mind. You need to be practical, figure out which QPIN contacts need to be checked on, which trade channels might need extra muscle -
“Stop.”
Your fins twitch in recognition, despite your attempts to stop them. You know that hard feminine voice, and you wish you didn’t.
Slowly, to emphasize your complete lack of eagerness to talk to them, you turn to face the two women who’ve apparently followed you here. Unless you’re just that unlucky.
Neither are tall, one olive and the other yellow. The yellowblood’s short horns are covered by her curly hair, her skin slightly darker than yours and her eyes serious above her grimly set mouth. The olive wears a grin that could seem innocently eager to a troll who’d never met her before, her short straight hair barely reaching past her large, round ears. Both are dressed simply in gray and black clothing, breath from their warmer bodies turning to fog in the cool air.
It was Zelist who spoke to you, and she does so again.
“It’s been long enough. You haven’t contacted us once since you left Derevnya. Our scout observed you coming here of all places. Why?”
You stare at her, annoyed even though you know you shouldn’t be.
“What are you doing in this town if not pest control, Varzim?” Purrs the oliveblood, now holding a long, sharp knife coated in some sort of glistening substance.
You never much liked Marisa; you don’t think most trolls do, even in her cult. Maybe it’s something about how she always smells of the undead.
Sure enough, Zelist glares at her sharply. “Give him a chance to explain.” She says, voice hard, but her eyes are on you and her suspicion is plain.
“I’ve tried to fight the horrors here. I never made any progress. So I gave up; they’re not actively hurting people, at least. Vernrot is…” you wave a hand vaguely. “Stable. Even if it’s not the kind we’d like.”
“That’s complacent talk, Varzim.” Says Zelist, arms crossed. “You could’ve asked us for help.”
You give her a look, fins twitching as your mouth curls in disdain.
“You people don’t do subtlety. I didn’t want to attract attention.”
She shakes her head, gaze detached but disapproving like one of your proctors would’ve been and for a moment you feel a flicker of guilt. Maybe she’s right. Maybe you should have talked to them, asked them for help...
“We let ourselves be corrupted before, but things have changed. We keep an eye on the other cults now, regulate summonings and artifact use. Everything is getting better. We should be allies, Varzim. We have the same enemies.”
Are the horrorterrors here your enemies?
Of course they are. All horrorterrors are anathema to trollkind. Different faces of the same incomprehensible forces, unable to understand trolls or respect their wellbeing. Too strange and terrible to bargain with.
But the ones here didn’t attack you unless you did first, and when you apologized how Lusien suggested, they went away...
No, you still can’t trust them, you decide. Horrorterrors are always bad.
Still, you trust the blueblood even if he’s wrong. You trust him because he’s the best thing that ever happened to you.
Even if it treats him badly, Lusien doesn’t want you to hurt Vernrot.
“Maybe we should work together.” You admit. “But I can’t attack this town. I mean, I’ve tried - I think if we threw more at it it would retaliate harder than we can hit. If we find a way to remove the horrorterrors here it can’t be with any collateral damage.”
You remember Sayamh, but push the memory away. He was too far gone to save, the undead wretch. He was better off as bullets.
Zelist purses her lips and Marisa laughs before speaking in her mocking tone.
“So soft you’ve become! I wonder why. Is it ‘the town’ or someone in particular? Something in particular?”
“How dare you.” You say softly, baring your fangs at her implication. “I would never be friendly with a horrorterror. I’m thinking of all the trolls here. None of them have any idea what’s happening! They wouldn’t understand what we were doing. They can’t see it even when it’s in front of their faces.”
Except one, forced to witness it alone as everyone thought he was insane.
“Then they’re better off purged anyway.” retorts the yellowblood dismissively. “If they’re so oblivious, they could enable the forces here by accident and let something out. The risk isn’t worth it. So help us, Varzim, prove all our suspicions are baseless. This can be easy and straightforward. We can all go hive happy.”
She holds out a hand to you, eyebrows raised.
You believe her. The lowblood is a lot of things, but unlike the olive she’s a woman of her word. She’s practical. Her goals make sense.
You shake your head anyway.
“No. You’re going to fail and this isn’t my fight. I’ll find other terrors to destroy.”
Zelist and Marisa exchange a look, and with a sigh, the yellow hands the green some caegers. The latter pockets them, smug as a satisfied meowbeast.
“Don’t bet against me.” Purrs the higher caste. “I told you when he didn’t cull that possessed cusp it was clear where his loyalties lay.”
Your fins flick in surprise. They know about the scientist?
“I’d hoped he’d have a good explanation.” Zelist retorts acerbically. “Clearly I was wrong.”
Marisa raises her knife and you knock it out of her hand, so quick that -
You’ve been stabbed.
“Such a simple trick to fall for.” She whispers, and her other hand withdraws a long, serrated blade covered in violet blood that wasn’t there a moment ago.
You try to kick her. Your body doesn’t move. The blood seems to drip off the metal in slow motion as you find you can barely even breathe, frozen in place with outstretched arms. The damp air is cold on your wound, which...isn’t closing.
Your wound isn’t closing.
Zelist shakes her head, and raises her hand to make a short signal. Dozens of other trolls come out, completely covered up in body armor, nets in their hands.
Your wound bleeds freely, staining your body armor, staining your new shirt.
The trolls close in, nets crackling with energy.
No. No. No. No.
The nets surround you, wrapping you up in a hopeless tangle as they shock you, and your wound isn’t closing -
You can’t speak. Can’t regrow. Can’t do anything.
Then you remember what you practiced with Teagan, what seems like a million sweeps ago now.
You take their minds. Despite the temptation, you don’t attack like you did with the indigo who threatened Lonnen. You only make them set you free, back off, leave this place and forget what happened, forget the cult itself; you grow new pathways in their minds, wiping away the old.
Breathing heavily once free of the nets, you turn to the pair of women who stare at you, whatever Marisa did having worn off or been purged by your body. Zelist is slack-jawed in amazement while Marisa exhibits a surprised sort of hunger, leaning forward slightly while still holding her blood-covered knife.
“Listen to me.” You say - snarl, really, despite straining yourself to sound civil. “I don’t want to fight you. But I will if I have to. This town is mine.”
Silence reigns for a few moments as the wind blows, bringing the scent of salt and fish.
“Since when could you do that, Varzim?” asks the yellowblood quietly. “You didn’t have that power when you fought the Siren.”
“I didn’t.” You agree. “I’ve learned more about my abilities since then. None of which I feel like sharing with you.” You remark, dry.
You give them a wry smile with a great deal of sharp seadweller teeth.
“Something about being stabbed and manhandled has put me in an antisocial mood. We’re done here. Go, before I make you leave.”
The two exchange another look.
Then Zelist pulls out a gun that reminds you uncomfortably of Sochet’s. The runes, the metal, the make...they’re almost twins, but this one is far newer.
You duck as a bullet whistles over your head, and you can feel it’s like the ones Sayamh died for - horrorterror essence turned against its source, anathema to your very existence. You pull out your own gun, shooting to keep her and Marisa - damn olive stabbing at you - back.
You fend off both of them, letting your training take over, and get up close to Zelist, knocking the gun out of her hands - even that hurts, making you shudder down to your core.
Then Marisa shoots you in the back and you feel yourself...melt.
Your existence starts to break down, your very presence in reality degrading.
But you can regenerate again.
As the bullet is flung back at its owner, as your monstrous nature takes over and you grow jaws and eyes, tentacles and tendrils growing as your choir of voices sings of victory, of growing unrestrained by troll shape, you struggle against it, but perhaps not as hard as you should.
Trolls warp into nonsense masses of flesh in your sight.
You sing in confusion. In fear. In joy. What odd creatures!
You sing unbothered by what your own flesh just went through, but the whispers of the others grate on you. An irritant, itching at your growth.
So you raise your voice to drown them out.
#cloud writes#thrixe varzim#finally get to write horror!thrixe#jovial fellow isn't he?#it's not that he's a different person as a horrorterror it's just an aspect of him he suppresses 99% of the time#that comes to the fore
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SWAT!Jay / Upstead AU
A/N: Part 8! My take on Upstead at the shooting range. Crossposted on AO3, link on my blog.
"Before we start shooting," Jay says in his best teacher voice, "we're gonna familiarize ourselves with the weapon first."
Hailey sighs. "Jay, I told you I just wanted to shoot the damn thing once."
"Before we start shooting," Jay says in his best teacher voice, "we're gonna familiarize ourselves with the weapon first."
Hailey sighs. "Jay, I told you I just wanted to shoot the damn thing once." She has been begging Jay since they started dating and he's finally caved, but she certainly didn't expect her boyfriend to go all firearms instructor on her. It's 8 a.m. on a Sunday and they drove almost an hour outside the city to go to Jay's favorite outdoor shooting range. The owner greeted Jay like an old friend, immediately putting a box of the right ammo on the counter and telling him that his usual lane all the way in the back was free. Of course it was free, Hailey thinks, it's 8 a.m. on a Sunday.
Jay tuts at her. "If you want to handle the damn thing, I'm gonna show you how to properly disassemble, clean and reassemble the Remington M24 Sniper Weapon System." He opens the rifle case and reverently takes out the M24, laying it out on a blanket that he's already spread out in front of where they're kneeling on the ground.
It's kind of fascinating to watch Jay disassemble the rifle with practiced ease. He's not even looking at what he's doing with his hands, removing the parts one by one by muscle memory, mostly looking at Hailey while he explains what every part is and does, making sure that she's paying attention. Once he has the rifle reassembled, he takes out a pouch with cleaning utensils and shows Hailey how to "maintain performance standard", brushing and scrubbing the inside of the barrel and wiping down the rest.
"Jay," Hailey groans, "you do remember that I've handled rifles before, right?"
He rolls his eyes. "Of course, but you gotta handle Loretta with care."
She stares at him with wide eyes, trying to hold back her laugh. "You named your sniper rifle 'Loretta'?"
Jay warns her, "If you laugh, I'm gonna pack up and leave." Hailey bites her lip trying hard not to laugh. Glaring at her, he folds up the bipod on the rifle with a snap.
"No no no, wait!" Hailey puts her hands on his to stop his movements and gives him an innocent smile, then schools her face into one of pure devotion. "Please teach me the Halstead way."
"I swear to God…" At her pout, he huffs. "Alright, fine." Hailey grins and claps her hands in excitement. "But you gotta let me do this my way."
"I promise I'll be good." He gives her the side-eye, but relents and continues with his lesson.
Clearing away all the tools he used to assemble and clean the weapon, he sets up the rifle on the blanket, right on the firing line, pointing it downrange. "The steadiest stance to shoot in is the prone position." He motions at Hailey. "Lie down on your stomach with your legs straight. Prop yourself up on your elbows." Tying her hair up in a messy ponytail first, she gets down on the ground and Jay gets up to adjust her arms and kicks her legs further apart until they form a nice Y-shape. Knowing she is a lefty, he continues, "Now put the butt of the rifle in your left shoulder close to your neck." Again, he moves her arms to the right positions ‑ right elbow on the ground just to the right of the rifle's forearm, right hand under the butt of the stock, left elbow on the ground, making sure that her shoulders are level. "Put your left hand on the pistol grip and pull the rifle into your shoulder."
Already comfortable in her position, Hailey rests her face firmly against the stock, looking straight down the sights. Letting her breath out slowly, she inches her trigger finger to its intended position, but before she can curl her finger around the trigger, Jay steps on her right foot. Her head snaps back and she glares at him. "Ow, what the hell, Jay!?"
He raises an eyebrow at her, clearly having seen that she was ready to pull the trigger. "Easy there, tiger. Your feet weren't flat on the ground-" He then smirks and holds up a single round with two fingers. "-and the rifle's not even loaded yet."
"Whoops." She lets out an embarrassed laugh, realizing that she let herself get caught up in the excitement of finally being allowed to hold the coveted sniper rifle after Jay's show-and-tell that lasted almost an hour. She doesn't think she's been this giddy about shooting a weapon since firearms training at the academy.
Jay shakes his head at her and laughs. He squats down next to her and instructs, "Raise the bolt handle and pull it all the way back." She does as she is told and he one by one pushes five cartridges down into the internal magazine. "Now slowly slide the bolt forward and push the handle down." When the handle slots into place, he puts a hand on her shoulder. "Loretta is now officially loaded."
Hailey rolls her eyes as he grins. "Can I shoot now?"
"Patience you must have, my young padawan."
"Please don't jump on my back." Hailey laughs. "Or make me carry you through a swamp."
"Feel the force!" Jay lets out an evil laugh in return and drops down on her back, making her squeal. Holding her down with his body weight but careful not to crush her, he starts tickling her sides, her arms trapped under her. Hailey squeals again and tries to buck up to push Jay off of her, but he doesn't budge. He does however stop tickling her and begins to kiss the side of her exposed neck instead, his hands roaming up and down her sides. She lets out a low moan and tilts her head up to give Jay a better angle.
Her boyfriend is in the middle of sucking a hickey on her neck, but Jay's lips freeze on her skin when someone clears their throat next to them. "I don't mean to interrupt…"
Jay jumps up and gives the shooting range owner a sheepish smile. "Hey, Walt."
Walt gives them both a look like he's a disapproving parent admonishing two teenagers. "There's other people here too, Jay, so try to keep it clean, will ya?"
"Sorry, Walt. It won't happen again."
The older man nods, then leans closer to Jay and whispers, "She's cute." He winks at him and turns to walk back towards the front office.
Watching them from her position still lying on the ground, it's the first time Hailey has ever seen Jay blush. She giggles. "Well, that was awkward."
"That was one dad talk that I didn't think I ever needed." Jay grimaces. "I might have to find a new shooting range."
Hailey snickers and slaps his ankle. "Calm down, let's just get back to teaching me how to become Badass Sniper Hailey."
Jay raises an eyebrow at her, then bows down and playfully slaps her butt. At her indignant look, he grins. "Let's get to it then, badass. Get back in the prone position." Checking her stance, he does some minor adjustments, then pulls out a spotter's scope from a compartment in the rifle case and lies down next to her. Using the scope to look downrange, he picks out a target for her about fifty yards away. Considering she does have experience with long guns, this should be an easy shot. "Target at fifty yards, you got it in your sights?"
Hailey looks up from the scope mounted on the rifle and scoffs at Jay. "Fifty yards? You serious right now?"
He sighs. "We'll work our way up. I want you to get used to the motions first."
"Fine." Huffing, Hailey goes back to looking down the sights. "Yeah, I got it."
"Any adjustments you need to make? The knob on the right side of the scope is for windage and the top knob is for elevation."
"No, I don't think so." Luckily for Hailey, it's a clear and sunny day with barely a breeze.
"Good. Now chamber a cartridge. Raise the bolt and pull it back until it stops. Push the bolt forward. The bolt removes a cartridge from the magazine and pushes it into the chamber. Push the bolt handle down." She follows his instructions and she can hear a round move into place. With the way Jay has been taking care of this weapon, it's no wonder the mechanics work so smoothly.
"To fire, switch off the safety and then squeeze the trigger. Now before you do, one last thing that is also one of the most important things when firing – your breathing has the most effect on your shot. Breathe in through your nose and slowly breathe out through your open mouth, try to relax and slow down your heart rate." He hears her take a couple of deep breaths. "Fire at will." Hailey breathes deeply a few more times before a shot rings out and hits the target with a metallic ping. "Good. You hit it between the 9 and 8 ring. So either there was some wind or you swayed to the left when you took your shot. Use the bolt action to chamber another round and try again." On the second shot that takes her considerably shorter to set up, Hailey hits the target inside the 10 ring. She's a fast learner and Jay beams at her in pride. "Let's move on to a hundred yards."
Jay lets Hailey take a few shots on the 100 yards target which she pretty much nails before he hands her another five cartridges and tells her to reload. Remembering what he showed her earlier, she easily manages the task and immediately chambers a cartridge, ready to shoot again. They continue moving from target to target in 50 yards increments. When they get to the 300 yards target and she hits it at the bottom of the 7 ring, she lets out an indignant huff. Jay chuckles at her. "We're shooting at a longer distance now, so you have to adjust the elevation on your scope."
Realigning her shot, Hailey hits the bullseye and her eyes widen when a metal plate on the target comes loose and reveals the words "will you". She is about to ask Jay what is up with that, but he has already moved on to their next target, telling her that he'll buy her a really nice bottle of champagne if she hits the bullseye on the first try. Challenge accepted, she again focuses on the target, this time taking her time to adjust the scope and concentrating on regulating her breathing. Deliberately squeezing the trigger, she hits the bullseye. Another metal plate folds down.
Instead of being pleased at herself for achieving the shot, having read the words on the target, she squeaks out a tiny "what" and turns up to Jay who is now on one knee next to her, holding a beautiful solitaire diamond ring out to her. "I know we've only been together for two years, but I love you so much and I know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you, so..." He takes a deep breath and gives her a hopeful smile. "Hailey Upton, you hit me right in the heart, will you marry me?"
Hailey feels like she's going through some sort of out of body experience, but she doesn't even have to think about it. "Yes!" She throws herself at Jay and kisses him fiercely. He laughs into their kiss and wraps his arms around her, hugging her tightly.
Pulling back, Jay takes her left hand and slides the ring onto her finger. "It's my mom's ring," he whispers, "She would've loved you too."
Hailey's heart warms infinitely and she takes Jay's face into her hands to kiss him again. Breaking their kiss and leaning her forehead against his, she whispers back, "I love you."
"Congrats, kids!" There's the sound of a cork popping and Walt is back with a bottle of champagne and flutes. There's also cheering coming from far away that's moving closer and Hailey laughs and watches as Jay's team mates come running towards them from downrange, whooping and whistling loudly.
Jay grins. "Walt and the boys helped me set this up. Sorry for stepping on your foot, but you almost ruined your own proposal, they weren't done with the plates yet."
At that moment, the guys descend on where they were set up and Mitch slings an arm around each of them and gives them a bear hug yelling, "YAY, GUYS!"
They all laugh and Walt hands out champagne glasses to all of them. "To Hailey and Jay!" They all raise their glasses and cheers to the couple.
"Since we're here already …" Sam, Jay's spotter, pulls out a different rifle case out of nowhere. "I'm gonna beat you this time, Halstead."
Jay groans. "Dude, you're seriously bringing this up right now? I just got engaged!"
The two of them start bickering and the other team guys start laying in as well, but Hailey doesn't care, she's on cloud nine right now. This is definitely not how she imagined being proposed to, but it went down in pure Jay Halstead fashion and it's perfectly them.
They end up spending the rest of the day at the range, Jay and Sam, who is also an ex-army sniper, doing trick shots (and where did the cooler full of beer come from?) until Hailey leans down to Jay while he is lining up a shot and whispers, "Do I need to compete with Loretta or can I spend some time alone with my fiancé?"
Jay takes his shot, but doesn't even hit the target in the black and packs up his gear. The guys watch them knowingly and start wolf-whistling. Jay just gives them the finger and Hailey waves at them as he drags her behind him.
#upstead#jay halstead#hailey upton#chicago pd#jay is a nerd#whoops this ended a little different than planned lol#bhhfic#swat!jay au
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Things I don’t understand about the USA
Alternative titel “America, what’s wrong with you?” I’m German, so what I know about living in the US comes mostly from Tumblr. Honestly, there’s a lot that’s apparently customary that I don’t understand. And not in the “different societies are interesting” kind of way, but more in the “how are you guys still alive?” kind of way. Maybe I misunderstood some things, maybe it’s not that bad over there. In that case, feel free to explain why this does make sense. But anyway, here’s the list:
1.) Cashiers aren’t allowed to sit...honestly, do you really have the health insurance system for all that chronic back pain?
2.) Tipping is mandatory as in, depending on the state, the waiting personnel won’t be able to afford to live without it?!
3.) Why is health insurance dependant on your job? What if you loose your job and your health insurance with it and then get sick? Hope it’s not lethal? Just why no universal health care?
4.) While I’m at this topic, apparently, there are chronically ill people that carry a note saying “Don’t call an ambulance, I can’t afford the bill.” How is that okay?!
5.) American Taxes. So, you go into a store with five dollars in your pocket and buy an item that says two dollars on the label and it could still be that you can’t afford it because taxes? What do you guys do, subtract the taxes in front of everything you buy? Are you that good at maths or do you bring a calculator to every shopping trip?
6.) Pads and tampons are apparently taxed extra as “luxury”? Who ever thought those things were a luxury instead of necessary hygiene articles? I mean, in Germany they are not free either, but they are in the same price range as other hygiene things like razors, toothbrushes or diapers.
7.) Dress codes. Girls get sent home for wearing clothes that could “distract the boys” but boys are technically allowed to come to school shirtless? I mean, leave alone the fact it’s not a girl’s job to make sure a guy controls himself and doesn’t drool over her, stuff like showing your shoulders and knees is seen as “distracting”? I thought you were supposed to be the free progressive country, not the Victorian one? Schools here often have a paragraph saying “students must wear appropriate clothing”, but I’ve never witnessed or heard from anyone being sanctioned for wearing inappropriate clothing, so this paragraph would probably apply to arriving only in your underwear or something.
8.) Why does every psychopath who wants to own a gun can do so without regulations? How is it okay that kids have actual drills for school shootings because they are so common?
9.) Why are you charged for college applications? What do people do that can only afford one application and get rejected? Or can afford not even the application? Also, better colleges are more expensive to even apply to? How are that equal education chances?
10.) Seen a million times in sitcoms: Subjects (usually Arts and Music) some head staff deems “unimportant” just get cut when there’s not enough money? In general, public schools actually don’t give an education as good as private schools because of a lower budget? How does that not discriminate between poor and rich?
11.) Why do people whose ancestors immigrated from England or Ireland complain about people who immigrate from other countries now? There is no “American” culture, if anything, it would be the natives tribes’ cultures and even they are all different. Just face the fact that your family arriving at the earliest 300-some years ago doesn’t make the country “yours”. There were people there whose country your ancestors took. Being the first immigrant (which you probably not even are) doesn’t make you the country’s owner either. Also, My local church is older than the United States.
12.) You never made masks mandatory during the pandemic? Not even in public transport or in schools? And then you didn’t even freely provide them for cashier’s and staff who had to continue meeting people?
13.) Why are people allowed to freely proclaim the Holocaust didn’t happen in your country? In Germany, that’s called falsification of history and is an actual crime, so is wearing or showing nazi symbols or flags. “Freedom of Speech” is a great thing, but it shouldn’t cover hate speech and denying and veiling historical facts.
14.) A women that wants her tubes tied needs to get her husband’s permission?! I thought we were over a women needing a man’s permission for anything since the 70s? If I wanted that, I could just see a doctor and schedule the surgery. The only problem would be that my health insurance wouldn’t cover it except if it was medically necessary.
15.) Not as severe as the others but still: Who came up with your measurement systems? I could get used to Fahrenheit (although you’re the only ones to use it, I’m afraid), but miles are just weird and don’t get me started on feet and inches. How is anyone supposed to know how to convert these?
#usa#what i don't get#are you guys okay#questions#united states#america#health care system#health insurance#taxes#dress codes#gun laws#things I don't get#immigration#no offense to individual americans of course#except if you're offended by 11 and 13#then be offended
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Prompt by @darknessstartstorise
Hey, I saw your post about sending prompts. I am not sure if this is something you would be interested in. I am a fan of paranormal romances, and was wondering if you would ever consider doing an AU kinda based off the In your Eyes film. I wasn't crazy about the film itself but the idea of seeing through others eyes..that person being your soulmate and what not. I don't know if that is a very good one but figured I would put it out there for Richonne.
" and the hallucinations?"
Michonne raises her head at the question.
She scratches her eyelids out of acquired habits.
She blinks to centre her vision.
" It didn't last past a week," Michonne replies with a tone, which hides her lies.
" That's good."
He kisses her, and Michonne remains stoic. Lying does not sit well with her, but she does not want to risk psychiatric internment over simple hallucinations due to a severe coma.
Michonne already made a mistake to say too much about her visual hallucinations.
She would not truly call what she has hallucinations. The thing is close to something, which she cannot explain.
It feels like becoming blind to see through someone else's eyes.
She sounds crazy, and it only gets worse when she tries to explain.
"Don't worry," She cajoled her boyfriend. " the doctor says I'm recovering well enough. I will be ready to go back to work, Mike."
" and it's what worries me. " Mike replies, " You should take time to rest before jumping back into your job. The world won't end because an art gallery owner takes five days away."
Michonne smiles, and it is hardly different from a grimace.
"Yeah," she begrudgingly agrees.
….
" and the hallucinations,"
Michonne sighs, and she should have been careful. She picks her shirt, and she begins to button it. Michonne almost feels vulnerable with all those wires on her.
" all gone," she regulates her breathing to maintain her heartbeat at an appropriate rhythm.
" I hope it's not a lie," Michonne's doctor says as she feels a pile of documents, which Michonne needs. " I can't let you back on the field if you still are experiencing trouble with your sight." She raises her head and looks at Michonne.
" I feel brand new." She smiles.
" I'm going to clear you out for a desk job first," her doctor says." Two weeks later, you will be able to return to the field." She signs the files and returns it to Michonne.
Michonne is not happy, but it could be worse. She scratches her eyes. The discomfort is almost unbearable.
….
" Michonne,"
She does not immediately reply. Even the loud yelling does not pull her out of it. It is nothing different from her usual hallucination.
A small scene of everyday life, she watches it happen enclosed in a body, which does not feel like hers.
She lifts a little girl with blond curl waves, and she hears laughter. For a moment, she sits on the breakfast table with the girl and a teenager
"Dad," he calls her.
" Carl, finish your breakfast." She replies with a rather masculine voice. " your mother is coming to pick you up, and you know how she gets."
"Michonne, "
She breaks out of her hallucinations. Michonne looks around her, and she notices her heavy hand.
" What is going on with you?" Her colleague asks. " You froze while shooting." She adds. " maybe you weren't ready to come back. How many more sessions with the psychiatrist?"
" I'm fine, Sasha" Michonne promptly responds. " I got shot before, and it is part of the job." She continues. " No trauma here. " She lies.
…
Carl
Michonne writes the name on her note pad. She adds more of what she can remember. The hallucinations began after being shot while on a mission in Nicaragua.
She draws from her memories the little girl. Everything feels strange about her visions.
It feels like looking through a window.
Michonne draws a deep breath. On the last day, the hallucinations have not bothered her. In a week, she won't need to be on the desk. She would go back on the field.
Michonne closes her notepad. It would slowly go away.
….
It does not go away. She lets her cup of coffee fall. Michonne is no longer in her kitchen. She is staring through the windows.
There are broken glasses everywhere. She stares at a gun.
" You thought we would not find you, Grimes. "
A man says while he presses the gun on her. It is not truly how Michonne can describe it. He points it on Grimes. She is only behind the window watching it happen.
" It doesn't have to be that way," Michonne recognises the voice.
It is always the same voice. Carl's dad or Grimes, and she begins to believe they are the same man. Michonne does not get to see more, and the window shatters into darkness.
…..
" Michonne," Mike calls her.
She finishes packing dinner. He cooked, and she agreed to clean. Michonne has not had a hallucination in days. She scratches her eyelids.
Michonne is going to return to the field in a few days. She has her lie made up. Michonne would tell Mike that she has to go recover a piece of art in Malaysia. She has a mission in the country. It sounds like a simple one. Michonne only has to recover intelligence.
"What?" Michonne yells from the kitchen.
" There is something on the news," Mike replies.
Michonne assumes it is something about painting or an art gallery. She comes to the living room to feign interest.
" What is going on?" She asks when she sits.
" There is a local cop who has disappeared," Mike replies.
Michonne cocks an eyebrow. She does not see why he would call her over it.
" Hmmm," Michonne says with slight confusion.
" Detective Grimes," He says the name.
Michonne freezes, and her eyes quickly turn to the TV.
It has been about a week since local hero Rick Grimes. One of Atlanta PD finest detectives also one known for his grand coup against drug cartels plaguing the city has disappeared.
On 7 March, his house was attacked, and the security alarm went off. The police arrived a few minutes later and found a scene of horror.
Michonne registers the date. She loses part of what the news anchor relates. She thinks of her last hallucinations.
Blood has been found in Grimes' home with nobody in sight. There are many signs of struggle, and many clues lead to believe in a vendetta against the officer.
Michonne scratches her eyes, and she leaves the room without a word. She retrieves her notepad, and she reads a detailed description of her hallucinations. Signs of struggles. It does not sit well with Michonne.
It is nothing, but trauma.
….
For a minute, it is pitch black until the window is clean. She struggles to see blinded by the light. Michonne stares at the face coming to focus.
" They are all looking for you, Grimes."
There is no answer. She looks around her with slowness. She focuses on every little detail. She does not focus on what they say. Michonne sees a foot coming toward her, and the image moves out of focus.
" You're going to rot here, and when we're done, they will find your body."
Whoever the man talking to Grimes is, he spits toward him before living.
Michonne waits, and she continues to stare at the room.
"Michonne," she hears him mumbling, " That is your name, right." Grimes talks to her. " I know you're here." He insists, " I get in your head sometimes." He continues." Talk to me." He pleads.
Michonne panics. It all ends before she can respond.
She leaves her desk. She rushes to the bathroom to wash her face. Michonne is frightened. It is insane. She is going insane. Nicaragua is coming to haunt her. Her entire career in the CIA is claiming her sanity.
Michonne takes a deep breath, and she returns to her desk.
She opens her motor of research, and she does what a good agent would do. She begins to dig.
….
Rick Grimes is a white man in his late thirty. By all standards, he is attractive. He is a father of two, and he recently divorced from his wife. She finds nothing out of the ordinary. Until his date of divorce coincided with the day when she pulled out of her coma.
Michonne takes note of it. She continues to dig. He is an excellent police officer, and he made himself some good enemy. From negan to Philip Blake, Rick Grimes is responsible for the biggest seizure in the Atlanta narco world. It is all impressive and yet nothing explains why she would build a story around him.
It started while she was lying on that wet floor in a dirty room of a hotel in Nicaragua. She had finished her mission. Michonne was waiting for extractions. Someone burned her, and next she knew the bullets were breaking through the walls.
An hour later, she began to have hallucinations. Nothing important more like little things she dreamed off. She spent six months in the coma.
She spends six months in her head having a conversation.
Those conversations became hallucinations when she opened her eyes.
Michonne stares at the screen. She continues to read articles about Rick Grimes. He has a teenage son named Carl.
She searches Carl Grimes.
Staring at the many pictures, she recognises the one from her drawing. Michonne switches off her computer.
She is going insane.
….
Michonne fails to forget. She wakes up, and she has again fallen asleep on the sofa. Things have been different since she woke up from her coma. She doesn't like to share a bed with Mike anymore. She pretends to fall asleep on the couch.
Michonne pulls her computer. Her mind will not allow her to forget. She has found all she could find about Rick Grimes. It does not answer her question. She needs more.
Sharing sight post coma
Michonne finishes typing on Google. Many pages appear. She meticulously reads through articles. It is mayhem of information. There is a lot of useless information. Until a small article about death and soulmate. It is more ridiculous than the rest.
However, she reads it. It speaks to her. The little testimonies at the bottom of the article sound almost convincing.
Michonne finds a scientific article about soulmates or half of an orange. She reads how it works. The intricate connection between souls and it is so rare that most people don't have one.
Michonne ultimately returns to the article. It is ridiculous. She wants to believe it is written by some lunatic. Between the thousand comments, there is one by Maggie Rhee. The experience sounds like Michonne's one. She closes her computer.
…..
Hold on… don't sleep.
Michonne wakes up with sweat coating every inch of her body. She feels like puking, and she rushes to the bathroom. Michonne empties her stomach. For months, she did not remember the day in Nicaragua.
What is your name
Michonne recognises Rick Grimes' voice. The same one who pushed her to keep going and stay awake.
Michonne stares at the mirror. She is going insane. She sits in the bathtub, and she searches for the ridiculous article. She remembers seeing Maggie Rhee' s number.
Michonne calls, and she waits for someone to pick up.
….
Michonne has a soulmate if she can trust Maggie Rhee. Why would she trust a young woman who lived what she is living? She didn't understand the specific.
Something happens when anyone is at the brink of death. The fracture of the soul and it only depends on how strongly your soul is linked to your soulmate. Her connection with Rick Grimes must be one stronger than iron.
Whatever, Michonne understands is that she owes her life to Rick Grimes talking her back to consciousness. Now, it feels right. She always thought it was Mike keeping her alive with small talk.
Now, she remembers where she picked her new habits. It all comes for hours, days, and months of conversation with Rick Grimes.
Michonne draws a deep breath. Maggie told her to try and project. She tries and it does not work at first. She knew it was lunacy. Soulmates and life miracles are bullshit.
…..
Michonne stares at the ceiling. She fails to forget. She plays some country music. Michonne used to hate it. She began to like it after resurfacing from her coma. It is the same way that she now loves deep southern accents.
"Hello," Michonne hesitates. " If you hear me, reply. " she does not have faith it would work.
" I'm going insane." She concludes.
" As long as you do it after,"
Michonne sees her ceiling fade.
" Richard Grimes?" She calls with hesitation.
" Yeah," he replies, " but Rick will do, Chonne."
It does not feel strange that he calls her that.
" I'm not insane," Michonne tells him. She looks at the room before him. " You're not in my head."
" I don't think you got it right," he replies with nonchalance.
" I'm in your head, and you're in mine." Michonne sounds crazy.
" That's my girl," He says with liberating joy.
Michonne does not react to what he says, and it feels normal. She is his girl. Michonne has been for the last six months.
" You're dying," Michonne comes to term with reality.
" No," Rick casually replies, " Not if you can help it." He says with confidence. " only stay with me."
….
Michonne does stay with Rick. He helps her, and she returns the favour.
" What is your big plan?" He asks while he scans his surroundings.
" kill everyone in my way," Michonne replies while she straps her weapon.
" That is not a plan," Rick replies. " That is a suicide mission."
Michonne groans. They have been going back and worth. She knows Rick won't be alive for long if they continue to talk about it.
" Call the police," Rick deadpans.
" and tell them what?" Michonne retorts. " My soulmate is Rick Grimes, and he is in my head telling me that Merle Dixon kidnapped him in retaliation. They would think I'm insane." Michonne points out.
" You're insane." Rick rebounds. " A dozen men are here. What are you going to do alone? It is a heavy rotation of armed men." He points out.
Michonne grabs her duffle bag. She leaves her home. She carefully places a letter on the table for Mike.
" What is that?" Rick asks. " your fucking suicide note." He says with seriousness.
" My goodbye to Mike," Michonne replies, " I think he has been waiting for that break-up."
Michonne enters the car. She drives to the place where she suspected they held Rick.
" Michonne," Rick attempts to resonate with her. " We're both going to die. Chonne, don't."
" Oh my god, " Michonne argues, " shut up Rick Grimes and waits for me to come and rescue you,"
…..
It is chaos, and a few men are on the ground. Rick manages to help himself up. A man watches him, and Rick opts for the clear solution. He jumps on the man before he can drag his gun out. He sinks his teeth in the man's neck until he bleeds to death.
Rick twists and gyrates until he can drag his hand in front of him. One of his shoulders slipped out of his socket through the effort. He grabs the man gun, and he begins to head toward the source of gunshots.
He pushes the door, and he finds chaos. Most men are dead, and Michonne has melted into a headlock. A man runs toward her, and Rick immediately shots at him. She looks toward him, and he freezes into actions.
" behind you," Michonne yells.
Rick immediately fires behind him. Michonne continues to squeeze Merle windpipe until he loses consciousness.
" How much left?" Rick asks while he begins to head toward Michonne.
" None," She replies with a smile, " they were eleven men," Michonne tells him.
Rick fixes the safety of his gun, and he aims it toward merle.
" Hello," He tells Michonne.
" Hello, Rick." She replies.
They exchange a look, and it quickly ends as the police siren song fills the air.
" How do I explain this?" Rick laments.
" The less crazy version."
…..
Rick indeed does not explain beyond a sketchy version where he killed eleven men. How else would he explain that his soulmate sees through his eyes and speaks in his head?
" You could have approached me," Michonne tells him.
" You wouldn't have bought the story," Rick replies, and he sips his beer.
" I…" Michonne hesitates. " I would have felt this pull." She decides to settle on the truth.
"I thought I was insane until I found you," Rick explains to Michonne. " I didn't want you to go through it." He confesses.
" I still thought I was going crazy. I would get those flashes of your life and day after day." Michonne counters.
" Sorry about that, I did think a lot about you. I couldn't always get you out of my head." Rick says.
" So that it is the deal," Michonne asks. " We're soulmates, and…" she searches for what's next.
" I'm single, and so are you." Rick points out, " so far this first date is going well. We're facing a complicated topic. We're good at chemistry. We can try a second date. " He suggests.
" We can try a second date, " Michonne agrees.
Their date is like many first dates, and Rick has the advantage of already having six months worth of conversation. Their date ends at the door of her apartment. Michonne does not know if it is the entire soulmate thing, but she finds him charming. She certainly likes his walk, and she can not say that about many men.
" Good night, Michonne," Rick says, and he reaches for her hand.
Michonne holds him back, and she pulls him toward her. She rises on her toes and kisses him.
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It’s not a “gate” - The hair/salon thing
I’ve addressed the salon thing in a couple of asks, but I wanted to take a moment to just go through the whole thing separate of those because what this saga has highlighted is a complete failure of journalists to do their work, and the undercurrent of misogyny that perpetuates both journalistic discourse, and how women must present themselves, especially if a public figure.
(This is long, so to spare your dashboards it’s under a cut)
Let’s start with the facts. Nancy’s usual stylist wasn’t available for Monday, so she/he recommended someone else. Nancy’s office contacted him last weekend (Nancy only returned to SF some time on Friday), and asked if it was possible to do her hair. The thing to note at this moment is that the rules governing salons in California started to change from last Friday. The governor had announced limited indoor openings, but to confuse matters some localities were still imposing tighter restrictions. Nancy’s office checked with the stylist, who told them that the rules permitted one person in at a time. He then asked the salon owner who he rented a chair from if he could go into the premises and do the appointment on Monday. The owner agreed to his request on the Saturday. Fast forward to Monday afternoon - Nancy gets her hair done before doing a television interview on MSNBC, and then on Tuesday the owner cries “outrage!!!” to Fox News, bringing along with her a seconds long bit of footage that shows Nancy with her mask around her neck. Naturally the whole thing explodes on Twitter and then across other media (several versions of the story made the top ten shared links on Facebook).
What followed was a failure of journalism to ask follow up questions about the clearly odd parts of the salon owner’s account as relayed by Fox News (a red flag in of itself). In her interview with Fox she admitted she had known about the appointment in advance, but no one thought to ask why she let the appointment go ahead if it so offended and outraged her - she did own the place afterall, it’s not like Nancy had keys or barged in. Likewise, no one thought to ask where the rest of the salon footage was. Why only release seconds worth which rather conveniently showed Nancy with her mask down, and partially hidden under her chin? Could it be that she had worn the mask the rest of the time. No one in the media thought to ask this. It seemed fairly clear to most sensible people on Tuesday night that something with off with the salon owner’s tale of outrage, but the media pretty much took the Fox News version of events at verbatim. Only USA Today raised the points I just did, but alas, they buried them in their write up.
Wednesday saw Nancy fight back, acknowledging that she took responsibilty for trusting the salon (when perhaps she should have had someone else verify what they had been told), but ask yourselves this, would you have verified it elsewhere? She had been to this salon before with a stylist, they were local, she trusted them, and in a situation in which the law was changing, it makes perfect and reasonable sense to ask the professionals in that industry what their status is. On this point there have been plenty of indignant people and bots on Twitter up in arms that Nancy didn’t apparently know the regulations in SF, but a) she didn’t make those regulations (as some seem to think), b) she spends just as much if not more time in D.C., and c) she has about 100 other things on her plate in any given hour, that salon regulations in SF are probably somewhere near 120 on her list after deal with Covid-19, Trump, win the election, save the USPS, try to get a stimulus bill, deal with the federal budget which will need a CR to prevent a shutdown (minutes after I hit publish on this it was announced she had reached a deal with Mnuchin to avoid a shutdown), restore in-person inteligence briefings, file an appeal in the McGahn case (again), Bill sodding Barr,, Russian bounties on US soldiers and so on. She has an insanely stressful job at the moment, her staff too, and it seems more than reasonable for staff/her to ask a professional in the industry about the regulations on salons, when such regulations were pretty confusing to most people last weekend anyway. Nancy’s only apparent “crime” in this instance was to trust the word of the industry pro.
Then of course we have the “she’s not wearing a mask” portion of this debacle. Not one journalist has asked where the rest of the footage is. We see Nancy walk from the bowl to another room, wet hair, phone in hand, and the mask around her neck (slightly hidden by her chin), but we never got the footage of her walking to the bowl, or any other footage from what was definitely more than a 4 second long appointment. Could it possibly be that she had indeed been wearing a mask the rest of the time - that she wasn’t just wearing it around her neck as some sort of foulard meets choker fashion statement. People have asked, “Why did she pull it down?”, and to that I will say, probably any one of three or four reasons. She uses a clip at the back of her neck to secure her masks rather than the ear loops. Maybe it was in the way and the stylist asked her to pull it down. Maybe she had trouble breathing with her face covered and head back. Maybe she didn’t want to get it wet. The point here is that it was around her neck, suggesting that she had been compliant until that fateful video captured moment. The media again though have run with the Fox News narrative that she had no mask. For one, it’s actually visible in the footage, and two, they are blatantly disregarding what they themselves know to be true - that Nancy has been wearing a mask for the last five months. We have the footage and photographs to prove it, not to mention the press also know that she takes down her mask to talk at her pressers etc. The press are playing stupid on this point to satisfy some both sides need in an election that so far has Joe Biden with a good lead. Their wilful obtusity is purely to inject some drama into things on the Dem side for clicks because nothing at present is sticking to Biden. All this leads to me to the misogyny.
I caught part of a radio interview yesterday in which two male hosts had to have it explained to them as to why a woman in the public eye might need a hair stylist more than once a week. One of the men had been perplexed as to why if Nancy needed her hair done she hadn’t just got it taken care of in D.C. were salons are open. It never entered his brain that no amount of hair spray is going to keep a hairstyle in place for at least 3 days (when Nancy was last in D.C.), or that she might need to lie down to sleep, or that hair does actually need washed. Likewise, it never occured to either of them that Nancy turning up to an television interview with anything other than styled hair would be a news story in itself, because here’s the rub, women are damned for makeup and hairstyling and thought vain and shallow, and they’re damned if they don’t put makeup on and get their hair done, especially for television (we all remember the “omg” reactions when Hillary turned up to an event days after the election in 2016 with a bare face). The last couple of days have been full of this crap, with men (looking at you Don Lemon and the SF Chronicle editorial board) especially saying Nancy should apologise for the salon episode. Why should she? She did what any reasonable person would do and asked about the rules. Her error was to take the salon at their word, but by today’s logic the salon’s lie is Nancy’s fault. I have seen more than one man on Twitter admit the facts of the case and still say “she should take the hit”. Would they say this of a man who had been lied to, framed, and the footage sold to a hostile media company? I think not.
And then of course there is the salon owner herself. The stylist released a statement last night backing Nancy’s side of events up. He also revealed that the owner, so “outraged” by Nancy’s appointment, had in fact been opening up illegally since April, had been forgoing masks, and been forcing stylists to work. What also emerged is that the owner had let her licence lapse on the premises back in May (so Nancy had not ended her business as she claimed), and was in the middle of relocating to Fresno -- something the press have gilbly ignored as they report how she has been hounded out of town because of Nancy, and forced to move. Let me say this, not even the IRA at the peak of The Troubles could get people to move that quick, and they had guns. And then there’s the gofundme - which popped up less than 24hrs after she handed the tape to Fox. Naturally the blurb is a sorry tale of woe, of a supposedly single mother forced to move because of the evil Speaker of the House. No mention that she owns three salons, that she’d let the licence lapse on one anyway, is opening one in Fresno, loves her guns (and those ain’t cheap) and took a PPP loan of $12,000 wihilst operating illegally. By the way, at the time of writing this, the gofundme has raised over $80k for her -- which shows you how Trumpers will buy into any bullshit, and how Nancy is a fundraising powerhouse regardless of your party affliation lol.
I appreciate this has been a rather long read, and if you made it this far, thanks! Nancy didn’t do anything wrong other than take the word of a salon in good faith. Should she have known the regulations herself? Maybe, but she has the kind of crazy and stressful life most of us can’t even begin to imagine, and unlike the Presidency, the Office of Speaker doesn’t come with personal maid services thrown in, or a whole West Wing of staff. End of the day, once out of that office, Nancy has to do all that normal life stuff that the rest of us do - shop, go to the post office, buy clothes etc., and now in the Covid era get ready for tv interviews herself rather than a studio stylist do it. Her mistake was to trust someone who has it turns out saw a chance to have a moment of fame, stick one to the woman she ignorantly blamed for the lockdown, and make some money from gullible Trumpers. I don’t know how this story will play out in the coming days. Ice cream lasted a week, spurred on by the far-left and then the far-right. This may have more staying power as Trump desperately seeks some kind of mud to stick to Dems, and with nothing sticking to Biden at present, his 2016 playbook (and the even older GOP one) of blame a woman (in this case Nancy) has been deployed. The problem of course is that Trump isn’t running against Nancy -- but as the press have so depressingly showed, that fact hasn’t stopped them from elevating one trip to a salon above 180k+ dead, Melania using a prvate email server (!!!, I mean come the fuck onnnnnnn, this after 2016!!!?!?!?), or Trump telling people to committ a felony and vote twice.
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