#child death
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More than two month after the murder of Hind Rajab and two paramedics who tried to save her, Washington Post investigates their deaths. What they found matches results of the previous investigation by Al Jazeera.
Some quotes:
While Qam [a dispatcher] spoke to Layan [Hind's cousin], 62 gunshots are audible over six seconds in two bursts of fire on a recording of the call, according to Earshot, a nonprofit that conducts investigations using audio evidence.
A satellite image captured by Planet Labs roughly an hour later, at 3:31 p.m., shows at least four Israeli armored vehicles around 300 meters up the road from the girls.
The paramedics headed out quickly to the location where Hind was trapped. It was roughly two miles away — down Beirut street, then right, and onto al-Majdal Street.
The paramedics had just turned onto Al Majdal Street, the lights of the ambulance flashing, when Zeino reported that a green laser was hovering just in front of them. The dispatcher told the ambulance to keep moving, slowly. Seconds later, the line drops.
The ambulance was later found roughly 50 meters south of Hind’s family car and about 350 meters south of where military vehicles had been captured in satellite imagery just over two hours earlier.
The door and pieces of the hood of the family car had been torn off. Samir described his brother’s body as “dangling” from the driver’s seat. The stench of decomposing corpses clung to the vehicle. He struggled to look at the bodies of the five children sandwiched on the back seat. Hind sat to the right of Layan, who was behind the driver. A page from what looks like a coloring book was crumpled where their feet would have rested. The bodies were so decomposed that it was not possible immediately see where the gunshots had hit them, Samir said. “We were only able to deduce their identities,” he recalled.
The ambulance was a burned-out shell, video shows, and almost nothing remained of the paramedics’ bodies. There was a hole approximately 300 millimeters in diameter adjacent to where the license plate would have been.
wapo.st/4aCoCqA — free link to the article.
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SUMMARY: Karen, Sarah, and Emma Tunney are all moving to a small town in Pennsylvania where, unknown to them, in 1913, a horrid mine accident trapped dozens of children alive, underground. But there's a problem. They're still alive.
#wicked little things (2006)#zombie#2000s#united states#north american movie#mentionable warning#child death#horror#movies#poll
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"every zionist accusation is a confession"
well, this actually happened to a Palestinian child in the Deir Yassin massacre of 1948. here's an eye-witness account :
FULL DOCUMENTARY HERE.
#palestine#gaza#free palestine#from the river to the sea palestine will be free#decolonisation#child death#tw child death
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Lama and the children of Gaza holding a protest against the child martyring famine caused by the occupation.
Translation:
Children are protesting for the world to see what has been and is still happening to us, even with Ramadan soon, everyone gets to celebrate except us, children of Gaza. We hope war ends soon so we can go back home
What do you want to say?
Stop the war! Where are my rights as a child? My right in education, in freedom, in medicine and my right to dream! they took away my school and all my rights, ceasefire now!
What right of yours are you defending? My right to play and study and everything. Ramadan is getting near, it's in 5 days... we hope it does not come.. i know this is wrong for me to say.. but this is how we talk right now, children are dying of hunger in the North of Gaza, what did they do to deserve this??
What do you want to say?
Add a comment...
We want war to end we are very tired we want our old lives back, we want to enjoy Ramadan as kids like before..
What is your message?
Ceasefire now and let us go back to our homes so we can enjoy Ramadan, we want to go back to our studies, fast peacefully like everyone, we want to live good.
#lama jamous#palestine#free palestine#gaza#free gaza#isreal is a terrorist state#isreal is an apartheid state#child death
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This would not have happened had it not been for America, the UK, the West and "israel" and their genocidal intent and action. THIS WOULD NOT HAVE HAPPENED OTHERWISE. NEVER FORGET THAT.
"A toddler in northern Gaza has died after bread, made from animal feed, poisoned him to death." from Al Jazeera English, 27/Feb/2024:
#palestine#free palestine#gaza#free gaza#from the river to the sea palestine will be free#i stand with palestine#rafah#save rafah#this is genocide#child death#save the children#palestinian lives matter#PALESTINE AND GAZA ARE BEING STARVED AND ARE DYING FROM TRYING TO SURVIVE. THIS IS GENOCIDE#fuck Israel#fuck america#fuck the uk#israel is an illegal occupation#israel is committing genocide#america is committing genocide
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With that story of the person buying a pregnancy test being sent formula samples in the mail getting traction recently, it needs to be pointed out that this is not new.
With my most recent pregnancy in 2020, I started receiving formula samples in the mail from Similac and Enfamil in my first trimester. My email was quickly passed between pregnancy and baby specific companies and my inbox became flooded with emails advertising countless products and services.
I was harassed by 2 cord blood storage companies after briefly browsing one of their websites. After my baby was diagnosed as terminal, I had a phone conversation with a rep who tried to convince me multiple times to store her cord blood for my future babies.
After Sam was born/died, within a week of my delivery I received a congratulations letter and offer from Gerber Life Insurance in the mail, also without my consent. I continued receiving formula coupons despite reporting her death to the companies multiple times, and even now I receive toddler formula coupons from time to time.
Amazon has tracked my purchases to the point that they know I (should) have a 19 month old and will advertise me toddler and baby things for girls, despite never having linked an AGAB to my Amazon account.
This level of capitalistic surveillance of pregnancy in the US specifically is not new and with the repeal of Roe v. Wade it should terrify you.
#pregnancy#parenting tag#child death#stillbirth#I did not have a miscarriage please stop tagging it as this
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K hear me out, a wife! Reader x Alastor and Charlie finds out they had a kid when they were alive. (I don’t mind what the kids name is but make them young and passed due to Spanish flu, dark I know)
omg this has been sitting in my drafts so long, i love requests like this </3 im sorry if it seems rushed, i really wanted to finish it!
Mourning Dove
Alastor x Reader (angst, slight comfort at end)
TW: CHILD DEATH, child sickness, reader referred to as a woman but doesnt effect story too much
join my discord!
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You sat yourself unceremoniously at the bar in the hotel lobby, shoulders slouched and cheek squished against the cold countertop. You weren’t one for alcohol, but you didn’t mind the company of Husk. He didn’t say much unless prompted, but that didn’t bother you. It was nice, honestly, after a day of dealing with the others.
“Somethin’ the matter?” Okay. Nevermind about him not saying much.
“Hmm?” You responded, barely peeking up from your finger that dragged patterns in the surface you laid against. “I’m good.”
“You don’t look it,” Husk observed, and you knew he was referring to the discoloration of your eyes and the residual dampness of your cheeks from crying. Your hair was a mess, too. Yeah, you looked like shit. “Tough day?”
“I guess, yeah,” You sighed, pushing yourself up and leaning back in a stretch while your fingers gripped the countertop to steady yourself. “Just thinking about… Y’know.”
He didn’t pry, and you were thankful for that. Husk did know a little, actually, and knew better than to push for more details. After being stuck with Alastor for so long, with the guy owning his soul and all, he inevitably learned some deep shit about him and, by extension, you. He just grunted in response and went back to spot cleaning his bottles of booze.
“(Y/N)!” A chipper voice called your name, and you squeezed your eyes shut in frustration. You thought you were done with all of this for the day, and you were so ready to just go to sleep. “I wanted everybody to join me for dinner today! We have a few new residents, so I want everybody to meet each other.”
You squeezed your lips to prevent a harsh word from responding to Charlie’s invitation. You were so tired. You feigned a weak smile and looked at her. You wanted to say no, to say you needed to sleep, but those huge, pleading eyes of hers caught the rejection in your throat. You tried to reason with yourself that Charlie doesn’t host stuff like this very often. It would just be one night. You’ll survive.
“Okay.”
She clasped her hands together and jumped on the balls of her feet, thanked you, and took off to find the next resident to invite. You held your head against your hand and you sighed dramatically. Husk looked at you from the corner of his eye, but opted to remain silent. You stood up after a few more minutes of quiet sulking, deciding you should fix yourself up for dinner.
In your room, you gently fixed your hair and threw on a casual outfit. Nothing super nice, just in case food started flying–knowing the antics of some of the hotel residents, it wouldn’t be a surprise.
You slowly made your way to the banquet room, which Charlie had installed for events like today. You could already hear the low murmur of small talk, and you were surprised to see a few new faces. Not a whole lot, just about five, alongside the familiar faces of your friends. Charlie’s hotel was, slowly but surely, becoming more successful.
You spotted Alastor quickly–he was hard to miss due to his height. You settled yourself in a chair next to him at a long table that Charlie had dragged into the room for everybody to sit at. You felt your skin prickle with the familiar sensation of static, which increased slightly as his attention turned towards you. He gave you a grin before focusing his eyes on the racket that was already picking up. You watched his smile curl, a bit sinister, as the sound of shouting caught your attention.
“-my fuckin’ business!” You picked up the tail end of Angel Dust fuming at Vaggie, one pair of arms crossed under his chest. He had a third hand on his hip, with his fourth hand jabbing an accusatory point at the woman in front of him.
“Guys, please!” Charlie pleaded, pressing her shoulder against Vaggie’s in an attempt to move her away from Angel. “I don’t want to scare my new guests away!”
“Tell this bitch to keep her nose outta my shit! I can’t have my fuckin’ life on the line because she doesn’t like my job!” Angel spat. There was a dangerous, maybe even frantic, look in his eyes. Before Charlie could say anything, Angel had spun around and stormed to the table. He ripped the chair out and slammed his body down. All four of his arms were crossed now as he glowered at the wooden tabletop.
You sighed, and felt a headache already forming.
Angel’s spirits quickly changed when Husk sulked into the room. He had his paws stuffed in his pockets, and glared at the air in front of him. He sat down at the other end of the table, but Angel was quick to stand up and saunter his way over to sit next to the cat. You couldn’t quite catch the flirtatious remarks that made Husk roll his eyes.
You observed them for a while, watching as Husk slowly grew more comfortable in the small talk he and Angel shared. He would never admit it, but you knew Husk didn’t hate Angel’s company. Husk seemingly said something about you to Angel that made him whip his head up to look at you. You quickly averted your gaze.
Charlie had been standing by her own chair, and a cough from her throat made the chatter die down. You didn’t really listen to the overly sappy speech she had started to give, your mind drifting away in absent thought. You picked your nails into the edge of the table, fidgeting with the light cloth.
Alastor caught your attention by lightly nudging his leg against yours. You trailed your eyes up to his, meeting his red gaze. There was a hint of worry in his eyes, and his grin twitched at the edges as he looked at your exhausted face. He tilted his head in a silent question.
You merely shook your head in response, and mouthed a quick “it’s nothing” and hoped that he wouldn’t press. He didn’t, but you knew he’d ask again in a private room.
Charlie sat down again, and Vaggie rubbed her shoulder, murmuring a silent praise. You dragged your eyes across the table, making note of the handful of new faces. None of them seemed to take Charlie very seriously, but that didn’t come as a surprise. They probably just liked free food.
The food in question seemingly materialized out of nowhere, and you chalked it up to her “princess of hell” type powers that she didn’t use very often. You smiled gratefully and, though you didn’t have much of an appetite, you started slowly picking at the plate in front of you.
The room once again began to rumble with small talk, but at some point the multiple conversations began to melt together until the whole table was talking to each other in one. Charlie was doing most of the heavy lifting with keeping the conversation going.
“-the deal with the Radio Demon and that gal next to him?” You perked your ears when you heard this reference to yourself. One of the new guests, some sort of lizard demon, had a finger pointed at the two of you. He had a slight country drawl in his voice. You saw Alastor’s smile widen when the attention of the table turned towards himself.
“My darling wife,” Alastor stated simply, briefly placing a hand on your shoulder. His eyes were closed as he smiled proudly. You silently nodded with a light, polite smiling. “We knew each other in life. It’s only natural for us to remain together. It would have been a shame for death to do us part.”
“Didn’t think you was the type…” The lizard said slowly, eyeing the two of you carefully. You didn’t blame him; what kind of nut job would marry the Radio Demon? Though, as Alastor said, you were married before Hell, and he wasn’t so… infamous back then. He was actually rather sweet, besides the whole serial killer thing–which, in your defense, you weren’t even aware of till he was shot to death.
“Didn’t think ya were the type to have a kid, either,” Angel piped up absently, one arm thrown lazily over the back of his chair. You watched as Husk tried desperately to shut him up as he continued to speak, but you barely heard the words over the sound of your heart picking up pace, and the increased radio frequency of Alastor’s. His body had stiffened and his eyes had shot open, quickly narrowing as his smile strained and curled dangerously, his gums visible in a snarl. His eyes were not on Angel, but on Husk, whose ears were flattened against his head and a nervous look in his wide eyes.
You weren’t really paying attention though, but you felt the intense tension and rapid prickling on your skin. Your breathing became more labored and you pointed your face to the table to try to hide the building tears in your eyes. You had tried so hard, all day, to push back the memories that kept threatening to resurface. What are the chances that on the same day, the topic was brought up, destroying the wall you had built to contain the anxiety, regret, grief…
You were kneeling by the wrinkled, messy sheets of the twin bed your son had been in for the past couple days. Your heart was tight, and you could barely breathe as you looked at him. He gazed blearily at the ceiling, following the path of the rocking fan. Every breath he took scratched at his throat, as if there were pebbles blocking the path. He barely had the strength to cough. His lips were dry and cracked, and his graying skin still had a flush of fever. You used a damp rag to clean the dried snot under his nose.
You had tried everything. Every recommended antibiotic, every treatment, therapy, exercise; nothing had worked. Nobody knew how to treat the illness. You had even tried to work with witch doctors that Alastor knew. You had spent so much of what little money you had trying to save your little boy.
Alastor was often gone during this time, being the one to go out and find something new to try. You never left the room, even when your husband tried to push you to go outside to stretch your legs or take a shower. He promised to watch over your son. But you just couldn’t, not with David laying on these dirty sheets, looking so frail, weak, and small. You had often called him little dove, and it made you sick to think that your nickname was now like a cruel adjective to describe his current state. A sick, frail baby bird. He had barely eaten in the past eight days, and you didn’t want to admit to yourself that any scratchy breath he took could be that last one.
You stiffened when his head rolled over towards you, and his eyes struggled to focus on you. His cracked lips grimaced for a moment, followed by a sharp, grating cough that made your heart drop and your eyes sting. You reached a shaky hand forward to smooth down his knotted hair.
“Am I going to be okay,” David said weakly. His voice caught on the tightness in his throat multiple times. “I feel really bad.”
“I know baby, but you’re okay,” You said tenderly, continuing to stroke his hair. “Your dad is getting you some new medicine. You’ll be okay.”
You were lying to him, and to yourself. But you couldn’t help but cling on to a morsel of hope–it was all you could do, really. David just looked towards you, his eyes flicking around slightly, unable to truly focus on anything.
“I’m tired.” He said. His breathing was labored.
“I know.”
Your emotions threatened to spill from your eyes as you watched him turn his head back towards the ceiling, eyes shutting. You didn’t want to cry; you couldn’t, not in front of him. You needed to stay strong for him.
You pressed the back of your hand to his burning forehead, and then trailed your hand to his chest, lightly pressing against him to feel his heartbeat. It was slow, and slowing. Your own heart picked up in response.
You heard the door in another room open, shut, and footsteps quickly pace towards the room. The door cracked lightly, and the tall, thin frame of your husband peeked in. He held a brown back tightly in his fist. With one look into your eyes, he knew something was wrong. Or, well, more wrong than usual.
You clenched your jaw to prevent any sob from escaping your lips as he sat the bag down on an end table and kneeled next to you, gripping your waist tightly as he looked at David. The boy’s breath had gotten dangerously quiet.
You watched as his eyes opened again.
“I’m tired.” He repeated, weaker this time.
Both you and Alastor leaned towards the bed, his hand on David’s leg as you gingerly lifted the boy’s head into your arms, pulling his light body towards yourself. You shifted yourself up into the bed with him, trying to wrap as much of yourself around your son as possible. You could feel his heartbeat getting slower with every weak breath he took.
“Sleep, then,” your voice trembled. You felt Alastor grip your shoulder, his other hand softly rubbing David’s arm. You couldn’t describe the expression on his face. “I’ll see you in the morning, little dove.” You lied.
“In heaven?” He responded. Your breath hitched at his words. He knew, somehow, that he was dying. How sick it was, for such a young boy to be aware of his impending death. How cruel God was.
“Yeah, I promise,” Was all you could muster. You worried that any more would destroy the dam that held back your tears.
It broke, though, when you felt David’s heart finally stop. You choked on a sob once, twice, before finally you started wailing. Screaming. You held a vice-like grip on the boy, both your arms and legs secured around him. Alastor was still quiet, but he had sat across from you on the bed and pulled you towards him, securing you and David’s still-warm body in an equally tight grip. You could feel his strained breathing and tight jaw against your head. He said something, but you didn’t hear him.
Your mind rushed back to the present when you felt a hand on your back. Your head whipped towards Alastor, who was looking at you. The table was dead silent, and there was still a look of rage in his eyes, but his smile held a softness that was only ever given to you. Your heart still beat strongly, and you struggled to breathe, but you were at least glad that your mind was still back in the present.
Evidently, barely any time had passed. Angel had a nervous look in his expression, which he tried and failed to mask as Husk cursed at him. Charlie was looking at you in worry.
“(Y/N),” She said softly. “...How come you never-”
“Truly, there is no point in speaking of life before death,” Alastor interrupted her, the usual cheer in his voice lilted by a masked emotion. You knew he felt the same grief as you, but he was a million times better at acting naturally. “What a waste of time and emotion.”
Alastor stood quickly, his hand trailing against your shoulders as he walked past you and towards Angel and Husk. Husk’s ears flattened to his skull again as Alastor loomed over them, hands behind his back as a smile twisted his features.
“Husker, my friend,” He said, the cat demon visibly flinching at the mention of his name. “Let’s take a walk.”
Husk didn’t move, and the room grew heavy with tension with every second as the sound of radio frequency got louder and somehow sharper. Alastor bent at the waist, his snarling smile inches away from the panicked expression on Husk’s face.
“Is the tomcat getting too old to hear?” You barely picked up Alastor’s words, but you definitely heard the threatening tone in his voice.
The cat swallowed hard before standing up. He shot one last infuriated look at Angel, before whipping his head back to attention when Alastor tapped his cane against the ground impatiently. The two of them left the room, and the tension in the air immediately lifted when the door shut.
Charlie startled you when she placed a delicate hand on your upper arm, and she guided you to your feet and out another set of doors. A weak smile touched her expression.
“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked as you both went up the stairs towards your hotel room. You shook your head silently at her offer. She only nodded back, and said nothing more. She opened the door to your room for you, and waited till you settled down in your bed before saying a string of comforting words that you didn’t really pay attention to. The door clicked softly, and you once again began to sob.
Only a few minutes passed before you felt your skin prickle with a static-like feeling. You had grown to find comfort in the odd sensation, and felt incredibly relieved when you knew Alastor was sitting next to you. You didn’t even hear him enter the room.
He pulled you wordlessly against his chest, lying the two of you down. You twisted yourself in his grip till your ear rested against him, listening to the odd drum of what you assumed was a heart.
“Has David been troubling you all day?” He asked you when your sobs slowed and you caught your breath. You nodded. Alastor rubbed a soothing hand on your shoulder blade. You recognized the tone of grief in his voice as he spoke. “What a pesky boy, even all these years later.”
You wrapped your arms tightly around Alastor’s neck as tears began flowing again.
Though you would never tell him, you often hoped Charlie’s idea of redemption would work. Your husband himself would likely never follow that path; you knew he saw no point and enjoyed the power he held in Hell. But, you wished every day to see your son again. To see your little dove.
You had promised him.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor x reader#angst#TW: child death#child death#ohdeerfully
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okay, bear with me this requires a lot of context. imagine that you wake up on a space ship with an alien species capable of telepathic communication with you. they are also capable of instilling you with the knowledge that everything they say is completely true, there is not a hint of uncertainty in your mind. they have weapons capable of obliterating earth pointed at the planet, and are forcing you to do one of two things in order to not fire. within the fiction of the scenario you are not being given the choice, but you the real you is picking which one of these things you'd rather have happen.
you must eat an 8 ounce serving of human baby meat, by default prepared like a steak (different preparations can be requested). you do not have to keep the meat down once you're done, but you have to get all of it in your body at one point. they do not provide any information about where the baby came from or how it died. if you complete this, they will deposit you back on earth and you will be free from legal repercussions of cannibalism, and it is generally agreed that you are also free from moral blame as it was against your will.
you will be surgically impregnated with a human embryo and must carry it to term and give birth. the embryo does not contain your dna, but otherwise you don't know anything about its origins. the aliens have advanced medical technology that gives you sufficient anatomy to carry and birth the baby, and keeps you healthy throughout, with no risk of long term complications or death. you have the choice to keep or give away the baby once you have given birth, and will be deposited back on earth.
if you refuse to comply in either situation, they destroy the earth and you are forced to live the rest of your life aboard the space ship as a prisoner, until you die of natural causes.
so,
#tw: child death#tw: childbirth#childbirth#child death#tw: cannibalism#cannibalism#tw: pregnancy#pregnancy#aliens#how else do i need to tag this#let me know#i only realized right as i finished typing that this could be triggering im sorry#please tell me if i need to tag anything else
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Israeli forces have withheld the bodies of at least 31 Palestinian children since June 2016, according to documentation collected by Defense for Children International - Palestine (DCIP). Four of the children’s bodies have since been released to their families, while 27 Palestinian children’s bodies remain withheld by Israeli authorities.
The rest remain in Israeli authorities’ custody, some for years, so their families are unable to lay their children to rest. That’s because depraved indifference to Palestinian life, even in death, is Israeli state policy.
#ruqaya jahalin#never forget#palestine#defense for children palestine#free palestine#free palestine free palestine free palestine#from the river to the sea palestine will be free#child death
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This was from February 24th 2024. Ahmed Kouta, a Palestinian-Canadian, walked into a school and found a mass grave. Canada's support of the zionist occupation continues its legacy of mass graves of Indigenous children. These children were alive just a couple of months ago. Do not look away.
#cdnpoli#Foreign Policy#zionist occupation of Palestine#zionism#Justin Trudeau#Mélanie Joly#death#child death#genocide#ethnic cleansing
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SUMMARY: Poor Gregory. After being released from the Wishing Well Sanatorium, all he wants to do is make the children happy. So Gregory reopens the old ice cream factory, and all the unappreciative brats are reprocessed into the flavor of the day.
Mod Z: YOU ARE JUST AN ICE CREAM MAN. TAKE MY DREAMS AND GET THEM BANNEDD
#ice cream man (1995)#horror comedy#slasher#1990s#north american movie#united states#mentionable warning#child death#animal death#horror#movies#poll
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fucking subsistence monitoring. ha ha remember how tallulah had to eat spiders. remember how pomme was starving. subsistence: "the action or fact of maintaining or supporting oneself at a minimum level." i'd bet my hat that third egg from their group is the hope egg. Fucking Subsistence Monitoring. they put them all in the wall and left them to wait to be found to watch how long they could keep themselves going. its one thing to know that it is another thing for them to have a specifically named department for that. lets us eat the bears
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I think the worst thing about an egg’s death will always be the parent/ caregiver’s reaction to it.
Like Chayanne and Tallulah’s nightmare where Phil was begging and try to coach Chayanne to help get him up only to lay there and desperately apologize to Chayanne as he died
Or Ramon’s nightmare with literally everyone on the server (Max, Leo, Foolish, Quackity, Bad) all running to Ramon, trying to save him. Foolish saying “Did we fail?” when he saw Ramon’s death message. Max trying his best to explain to Quackity that Ramon was safe in his house-he was safe-and that the code shouldnt have killed him. Or Bad staying an hour after, opening Ramon’s door over and over again.
Or Bobby’s death where Roier was telling Bobby over and over again that they shouldnt do the dungeon. Only to lay there and bleeding out, helpless because they were thousands of blocks away. Roier had to lay there and watch his son die, only to die soon after.
Or Juanaflippa’s death when Roier had to yell at Mariana to leave the ship because they were going to die. Mariana sobbing and screaming out for Juanaflippa as Roier drove away.
Or Dapper’s deaths, the satellite dish and the mansion. Bad screaming and running into the mansion even though he couldnt fightr anything just to possibly get Dapper up. Only for them to dig a hole in the ground in the middle of the night with no armor and wait. The satellite dish death with no hope of escaping. Cellbit asking if Bad is okay while Bad gets Dapper’s body. Slowly realizing that this was meant to happen.
Now today with Empanada’s death. Bagi screaming and crying while everyone froze. A mother’s grief unmatched to anything else as she tried to kill any worker in her path. Bagi telling Pac and Fit that she wants to go back to purgatory just so she can kill the eye workers.
I hope we never have to experience any more parent’s grief because it hurts the most
#qsmp#child death#tw child death#cw child death#i hope i tagged all the tags for the death#qsmp ramon#qsmp ramón#qsmp empanada#qsmp bobby#qsmp chayanne#qsmp tallulah#qsmp dapper#qsmp eggs
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Today's the 54th of the Bahr el Baqar Massacre.
On April 8th, 1970, 5 Israeli bombs and 2 airstrikes targeted Bahr el Baqar, a primary school (for children aged 7 to 13) in Port Said, Egypt.
46 Egyptian children were killed, over 50 were injured, and the school was entirely destroyed.
Israel claimed it was an "accident".
[ID: A greyscale photograph of two children, about 7 years old, sitting among the rubble of a destroyed school building. They are brown-skinned, wearing light-colored robes, and appear to have their hair in braids.]
#you ever 'accidentally' strike the same place seven times?#child murderers are child murderers.#child death
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most memorable causes of death I’ve read on old death certificates:
accidental drowning while trying to save little sister from drowning
bone tuberculosis around the site of an old gunshot wound
worms (no further elaboration. none needed.)
struck and dismembered by train (seen on several death certificates)
shot by friend in hunting accident (several teenage boys in different states met this same fate)
too decomposed to determine cause of death (haunting to think about)
blown up (dynamite accident)
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I have a different post in the works about Maddie not having children in the "Masters of All Time" timeline - it makes the emotional dilemma about whether Maddie should help Danny repair and reset the timeline straightforward and clean, but the thing is, the premise that "Masters of All Time" gives us is a FASCINATING and potentially really anguishing emotional dilemma if the writers were allowed to acknowledge it.
Maddie isn't happy in the MoAT timeline. When Danny shows up in her timeline, frantically trying to explain to her that he's her son with Jack Fenton from a different timeline, she accepts and embraces this explanation pretty quickly. It feels like she wants to believe it - she wants to believe that if things had gone differently, she would have married Jack, had children, had a ghost-hunting career she could be open and proud about. Everything Danny offers to her is something she wants more than what she has - a husband who has been lying to her, who dislikes ghost stuff and disapproves of her ghost research, so she has to do it in secret and hide it from him.
Something that goes totally unaddressed: Danny, her son from a different timeline, is a ghost. He's dead.
Never once does anyone stop to wonder what it means that her teenage son is a ghost.
And I know it's because Hartman & co. refuse to let anyone acknowledge that ghosts are dead people... but imagine they did.
Maddie Masters is... happy enough, she guesses. She married her college friend, and he is her friend, and she's not opposed to this. He doesn't support her work, but, well. She deals. She has her basement ghost research lab, even if she has to keep it secret from Vlad. She lost touch with Jack decades ago, and still regrets that, but that happens, sometimes, and his grievances aren't unfounded. She doesn't have children.
And then a ghost boy claiming to be her son shows up, and tells her that in a different timeline, the timeline that should have happened, she married Jack Fenton, she has two children, she is is out and proud about her ghost research and ghost-hunting and Jack enthusiastically collaborates with her on it. He tells her she's happy.
He doesn't tell her how he died.
And Maddie has a heartbreaking choice to make. Does she help him make this reality happen, restore time to how it's "supposed" to go?She wants to believe him, to believe in this alternate history where things went differently and she got the life she wanted! She has a wacky house full of Ghost Contraptions, a husband who loves her and supports her and collaborates with her, and two children she loves.
... and one of those children is going to die when he's 14. That comes with this choice.
Can she live with that? Consciously make this timeline happen, knowing she's going to have this child and then see him die.
It puts me in mind of one of the major emotional through-lines of "Story of Your Life" by Ted Chiang, the story of a linguist who makes contact with aliens and learns their language that allows her to see all of time at once, where it will go, what the outcomes of events will be. She sees her daughter dying. She knows from the moment she has this child that she will die in a rock-climbing accident in college. She sees it all at once, her whole life, and makes that choice to have a baby anyway.
I think MoAT!Maddie should have to consciously make a similar choice, and have similar feelings about it. Unlike the protagonist of "Story of Your Life," she doesn't know how it will all go. She only knows it as Danny tells her, and she herself won't really experience this, going forward. But she, another version of her, will. And Danny doesn't explain the halfa thing or the portal accident or anything, leaving Maddie to have to make her own hypotheses about what her alternate-life's future holds, about the grief that's going to come with the love, and make that choice to make it happen anyway.
#Danny Phantom#child death#child death cw#like fictional child death and also not really because it's Danny Phantom#but Maddie thinks it is and should get to have Feelings about that#perpetual perpetual ladies night#anyway go read 'Story of Your Life' by Ted Chiang it is SO good
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