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throwaway-yandere · 5 months

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𝖘𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖇𝖔𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍 𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗/𝖈𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖈𝖑𝖊 [Yandere Prince!Scaramouche/Reader]

A/n: After reading so many tyrant otome isekai manhwas, I thought I should give writing one a try... This story ended up being a bit more “real”(?) than OI. And I forgot the isekai part LOL. Love this fic a lot because the (L/n) family says the most banger lines. They spitting facts. Anyways, welcome to another throwaway-thursday, enjoy this one, @vennnnn-diagram because... lol.

Unreliable Synopsis: Exiled in Watatsumi island after publishing two anti-colonial novels outside their homeland, the famous reformist writer and physician (L/n) (Y/n) faces several familial deaths— and it all leads back to one man...

Content Warnings/Tags: Yandere themes, mentions of miscarriage (note: this is because this is very loosely based on a real life hero's biography), "lovers" to enemies, angst, character deaths, church corruption, politics, etc. Prioritize your mental health. The fic is meant to be a bit dark. You can listen to this song for the vibes 💖

"Are you going to Watatsumi Fair, Niwa?"

"Well, of course! The Lector works hard to make sure it's grander each year."

"Our Lector… I hope (L/n) is doing alright. It must be incredibly heartbreaking to lose a newborn son under three hours…"

"Indeed…"

It’s the 19th century and the streets chatter on about the upcoming festival. Seri, mitsuba, yomogi, and shiso— murmurs of food and spices exchanged at the Watatsumi Fair circulated. However, these four wonderful things wouldn't be there without a certain exile transforming the island into a thriving island: Lector (Y/n) (L/n).

Prince Kunikuzushi's most esteemed “rival”.

You were an exemplary philosopher and ophthalmologist who published two novels abroad that reflected Inazuma's social issues and military abuses. Of course, you were born in a noble clan. Only the wealthy can study outside Ritou and attain higher education beyond the basic arithmetic and religion Inazuman Colonizers gatekept your people with. You were slaves.

But these colonizers feared educated colonies would demand rights; hence, after publishing those eye-opening novels, you became Public Enemy #1. Charges against you were not absolved, but Inazumans could not execute you upon arrival. You were not a revolutionary, but a pacifist reformist. You made the government and clergy's behavior known worldwide, hence the military banished you to Watatsumi— another Inazuman colony and barren land.

Assured that you've done nothing wrong, you stayed in Watatsumi. With nothing but your firm beliefs, your days of exile were your most productive. Using your skills as a physician and some wits on land surveying, you've improved Watatsumi’s quality of life in under 6 months.

You're far from home with little spare change, yet you provided medicina gratis. With you, you’ve helped open the people’s eyes.

You lived under the scrutinizing eyes of the Queen, yet you erected streetlights in each dark street. With you, you’ve helped the people see in this dark age.

And most importantly, you have established Watatsumi's first school.

With you, the people understood the truth of their situation: they had been living under a tyrant’s rule for the past few decades.

And all you asked in return was for the people to help you in your ventures to improve the island's agriculture and spices.

How can the people of Watatsumi not love you for this martyrdom?

“(L/n) is organizing a secret rebellion association planning to overthrow the government”. That was the Queen’s grounds for exile, including false testimonial and documentary evidence. It was obvious that your books were in strong opposition to the current Inazuman Government.

Hence, Archbishop Sangonomiya Umiko was incredibly fond of you.

"I still believe I am innocent of the crime of rebellion, illegal association, and sedition. All I did was publish two novels!" You hummed. "When the Shogun calls for my execution— and she will— do immediately ask for my body. They will likely throw it wherever they please. Worse, Kunikuzushi might use me as his doormat."

The Archbishop laughed. "I can see that. His Highness does fit that character."

You and Umiko sat far from the festivities. Sangonomiya Umiko was neither friend nor foe. She is the current leader of Watatsumi Island, but she is restricted by the commands of the Queen and her children. Umiko cannot even preach about her true faith, hiding her birthright as the Divine Priestess and instead donning the title foreign title of Archbishop. Even with friendly demeanors, there’s an unmistakable grim air on both your faces.

No passerby would mistake this meeting as a romantic date. You have a wonderful spouse waiting home, appearing as crest-fallen as you do now.

… But "Spouse" is a rather loose term. You and your partner were forbidden to have a wedding. Prince Kunikuzushi would not allow an exile to marry and no priest would disobey him. Hence, you and your lover decided to merely promise to the God you believe in that you'll remain loyal to one another. That faith and loyalty brought about a prematurely birthed child— who only had three hours to live until his breath was cruelly stripped away…

And historians would attribute your son’s death as a cause for your morbid obsession with your own future execution.

"Kunikuzushi is a personification of what's wrong with the Inazuman Empire," you said casually. "He will be the core of what causes the revolution, not I."

Umiko did not miss the way you addressed the Prince. You spoke without honorifics, an aspect in both Watatsumi and Inazuma's language that is evident in everyday conversations. Most revolutionists emphasize his high station with hatred. You emit those titles and call him by name.

As though it was a habit.

As though you were once friends and more.

"Lector (Y/n), do watch your tongue," she shook her head. "The walls have ears."

"And what if the walls have eyes and ears? They shall see and hear my innocence." You sipped your tea before you snapped your fingers with a grin. "Oh, and do me one last favor. When they'll let me face my executioners, armed with polished guns and a shoveled ground:"

"Only the guilty are shot in the back. Let me face the firing squad and spare my head so that I may die facing the heavens."

A glimpse of (h/c) hair ran past in the streets of Inazuma City, carrying a child in his arms. The child was injured but otherwise “fine”— as fine as children could be amidst the rains of ashy woods and turbulent fires. The city capital reeked of gunpowder and a nauseating metallic scent. The (h/c) haired man may not have any blood relations to the person whom they’re protecting, nor does he know her name, but he held onto the 8-year-old dearly.

Despite the chaos that surrounded him, your older brother cannot help but think of one hopeful thought:

With the recent loss of (Y/n)’s son, maybe they’d be willing to adopt this little girl as my new niece?

But all that ended abruptly when a loud voice resonated throughout the streets.

“DON’T LET A SINGLE ONE OF THEM ESCAPE. NO SURVIVORS!”

Prince Kunikuzushi stood proud in the middle of it all. With calm finesse, he ordered the generals to order their soldiers to kill without a hint of remorse. His eyes were dull. All he knew was that his mother wished for the death of revolutionaries hiding in the capital. Whether these rumors were falsehoods or not, the Queen did not care. Fear is the family’s greatest weapon, bloodshed is nothing to them.

Death is nothing for a mother's puppet like him.

The Prince truly didn't have any care for this war. He's only following orders under the reward that he'll be able to have you. It was the Queen's promise, and she had always been relentless in any pursuit of honor and glory.

In return for his familial services, Queen Ei might consider his proposal. The royal family dreaded the death of their former matriarch, Makoto, and the prince showed no attraction to any of his valid consorts. Should he show loyalty to the end, the Queen will allow him to marry anyone to his liking.

That's why he's putting up with this.

He looked at the horizon, seeing nothing but fire instead of the deep ocean.

Why did Watatsumi have to be so far away?

Why did you have to be a sea away?

As fate would have it, a young soldier spotted the two. A hunt between two red-tagged innocent civilians and a greenhorn murderer commenced. Limping slightly, your brother attempted to push down restaurant chairs and other outside furniture in hopes he’d lose track of them.

The soldier did not know that the person he was tracking was your older brother.

Had he known, he would’ve left him alone.

And as much as fortune favors the bold, it was not on your sibling’s side.

The soldier fired his first reckless shot and hit its target.

Your brother stumbled, holding his stomach. He gasped, coughing as he subconsciously let the child go. But he did not fear for his life, but hers. He knew that the child was asleep on a park bench when the horns rang for danger. She was homeless with nothing but bedclothes and a short makeshift blanket, and now she’ll be forced to witness a traumatizing scene.

Poor child… You must be frightened…

I hope…

Your brother remains adamant that the child must live, even as the barrel of the enemy's rifle is pointed at his chest. A look of stern determination, mixed with fear, can be seen in his eyes as he stands his ground despite the threat of death.

That (Y/n) will raise you right…

“S-Scaramouche’s crown's resplendent band shows no natural light. The ocean's glimmer elucidates more hope than your vile scarlet battalions could ever hope for!!!” Your older brother yelled, weakly hiding the child behind him.

The soldier cocked the barrel against his forehead.

“There is no emprise to plundering, to murder and genocide—” he continued, coughing blood at the corner of his lips. “You will all be remembered in history as those who had foolishly paraded without genius. Death has a more ambrosial scent than a life of servitude under your heels.”

SHOT!!!

…

“M-Mister?... M-Mister?! MISTER!!!”

The child screamed as your brother fell to the ground. With the remaining humanity the young soldier clung to, he turned a blind eye towards the little one crying silvery tears. Truth be told, the new soldier himself had forgotten what it was he was fighting for. What was the point in this death, this pain, if not to harm both sides? But a good soldier does not question his orders and he leaves the child without a word.

She did not know his name. She did not know his status as a (L/n). She did not know he was the older brother of the famous physician (Y/n) (L/n). She did not know he was a martyr way before his true death.

But she still held his corpse with abandon. His body heat was slowly growing cold. Though her stature was short and small, her tears were heavier than her heart could manage.

(L/n)s may meet horrid ends, but Fate grants you all one last wish.

You all have the privilege of dying whilst facing the heavens, and that is the final honor your brother can carry with him in his passing.

“My dear, a letter arrived,” your spouse spoke. “It came from your mother…”

It was deep into the night and you had just fixed yourself up for bed, but you’re not one to turn down letters. Perhaps your old friend from Opera Epiclese had sent you a reply? Igniting the nearby lamp, you lovingly kissed their hand before taking the letter.

“Thank you, love,” you cooed. “I’ll surely be writing a letter back, so why don’t you rest before me? I shall accompany you later.”

Leaving them with a blush, you shut the door behind you. Despite the struggles in your relationship, your love for your gorgeous spouse will never disappear over the unplanned loss of your first child.

Unlike Kunikuzushi’s…

You entered the living room and closed the door behind you. A wise decision, given the contents that were about to crush the little mental stability you had left.

“My Dearest (Y/n), It is with a heavy heart and trembling hand that I take quill to convey news that no mother should ever have to write down. As I write these words, tears splotch the paper, and each stroke of the pen is a painful reminder of the sorrow that has befallen our clan. My dearest child, it grieves me beyond measure to inform you that your beloved older brother, (B/n), has departed from this world. The weight of this solemn news rests heavily upon my shoulders, and the burden is almost too much to bear. The tragedy unfolded in the heart of the capital, where (B/n), in an act of unparalleled heroics, sacrificed his own life to save that of a young girl during a merciless ambush. His valor shone through, but the cost is another pain you must bear after the death of your own child. Oh, my (Y/n), the pain is unbearable. I wish I could shield you from this heart-wrenching truth, but I believe in your resilience. The thought that you are in exile, far from my comforting embrace, only adds bitterness to my heart. The cruel hand of fate has robbed you of the chance to bid a final farewell to your dear brother, to stand beside his resting place and pay tribute to his funeral. The distance that separates Ritou and Watatsumi feels insurmountable, and I ache at the thought of your solitary grief. I hope your spouse shall accompany you in these troubled times. In these dark hours, know that you are not alone in grief. Though separated, we mourn the loss of a beloved son and brother, the heir of the (L/n) clan. May time and the tender embrace of cherished memories bring some measure of peace to your soul. With all the love a grieving heart can muster, Mother”

As the ink on your mother's heartbreaking letter crumpled with sorrow in your heavy trembling grip, a weighted silence filled the room. The words she penned— each a painful jab to your psyche— threatened to spill tears you've fought so desperately to hold back for weeks since you didn’t want your spouse to worry.

Before you can succumb to weeping on the floor with a contorted expression and writhing body, the door opens, disrupting your peace.

Prince Kunikuzushi, adorned with his mother’s feather and opulent regalia, strode into your humble abode with an irritating aura of entitlement. His presence, a stark contrast to the mourning atmosphere, successfully transformed your grief into weaponized spite.

"Still holding another Watatsumi Fair, are we?" he sneered, disdain dripping in every word. The callousness in his eyes and “indifference” to your mourning made the air all the more sharper.

“Why are you here, Your Highness?” You spat out. “Had your clow— soldiers failed to entertain you?”

“They are nearly as boring as your spouse in bed.” He snarled. “And I wager that their lives last longer than they do.”

You bit your tongue. Your spouse had made an effort to teach you not to reply to any insult he had towards them, and you had done decently enough to honor their wishes by merely scowling at the royal instead of equipping any nearby blunt weapon.

“Allow me to ask again,” you forced yourself to be cordial. “What are you doing here, Kunikuzushi?”

The prince clicked his tongue.

“Do I not have the authority to visit you?”

“You do,” you said. “But you do not have the right to barge in as you please, much like how Lord Hiroshi shouldn’t have decided to conquer my homeland Ritou and decide to claim it as Inazuman property for your mother’s ever-so-eternal happiness.”

“He was only claiming what is rightfully ours.”

Prince Kunikuzushi looked over at your bedroom door. You took large steps forward, blocking his way. You won’t allow him to disturb your lover’s good night’s rest.

He frowned.

"You should have been mine," he muttered softly.

You hated this about Kunikuzushi the most. He speaks with audacity that knows no bounds as he criticizes your spouse, but would sound the most pure when addressing his own emotions. “You should’ve said yes. You should’ve ruled these nations with me, and more. But you threw it all away and for what? Fragile patriotism? You are defending an island that will suffer the same fate as your beloved Ritou.”

In the eye of this tempest, your mother’s burning words fuels a fire that burns brighter than any royal decree.

"You speak of love and marriages," you seethed, voice cutting through the tension, "but you know nothing of the bonds that truly matter."

…

As the realization dawns upon him, his arrogance wavered.

He had not realized early on that news about your brother’s death had reached you already.

"An accident," he stammered, attempting to deflect blame. "If I knew, I would have spared him in that ambush. I’m not an All-Knowing God, so it’s genuinely just an accident."

With a chilling calmness, you locked eyes with him. "That wasn't an accident— our previous affairs were an accident. What you've done was murder."

Your words hung in the air, leaving no room for denial.

“I love you,” the prince spoke in near-whisper. “You know better than anyone that I would never do anything to hurt you this bad. You know that I am the voice that called for your exile instead of execution. I never would’ve asked for his death.”

His claim was also true.

You knew you were the only person who he had fallen for his whole life. You knew because when you were studying abroad, you had strange chance encounters with him. You knew because he was mildly stalking you and would’ve for a long time had you not offered a seat in the library. You knew because he had been a difficult person to court, always bottling his own emotions and lashing out in retorts you had dubbed “adorable” at a time. You knew because he had told you himself years ago that…

"You are insufferable. And yet, I find myself inexplicably drawn to your company. It's horridly vexing. Your presence lingers in my thoughts long after you've departed, like an annoying insect. I must confess, despite my best efforts, I find myself rather fond of you too— ridiculously enough."

... But what you didn’t know during your studies in Fontaine was that Kunikuzushi was the son of the Queen you despised and wrote articles against in editorial jobs to earn not only spare cash but the enlightenment of your people back home. What you didn’t know was that the prince had been sent by his mother to monitor your actions.

What you did not know came to haunt you on your way back home.

So you rid yourself of these memories and cornered him into a wall, a hand just behind his head. The sound of your hand slamming made the intimidating prince flinch, and he trembled at the dullness of your eyes.

“And yet whose orders was it? Whose order was it to ensure there would be no survivors in that location? WHOSE WAS IT, KUNIKUZUSHI?! ANSWER ME!!!”

Your spouse called your name from the other room. “(Y/n), is everything alright?”

With their voice, your anger faded slightly, yet your breathing remains loud and manic. “I’m alright! Do not leave the room, dear!”

“Scaramouche” took that as an opportunity to digress.

“I saved you from death before. Do not forget that.” His face hardened. “In case you've forgotten, I'm no saint. Many people will want to seek me out and settle the grudges they've built against me, and what better way to avoid that than to route those future seeds of rebellion?”

The prince took your hand off the wall.

“Mother had enough, she sees no reason to hold back against those who rebel and she had filed an order to reopen your case. And if my blood and hers are the same, I guarantee you that she will only provide you with the worst defense attorney possible. You will surely receive the death sentence.”

He placed your hand on his chest, gripping it so desperately tight to the point of it hurting.

“So choose me,” Kunikuzushi mumbled. “Choose me, and save yourself. Do not follow your brother’s path. Choose me. I’m your only option.”

And heavens above, does he take delight in that.

You met his gaze with a resolute determination.

"I appreciate your offer," you replied, your voice steady, "but I refuse. My brother's legacy, as tarnished as it may be, deserves justice, and so do I."

A flicker of frustration passed across Kunikuzushi's face.

"You're being naive," he retorted, the desperation in his voice taking a sharper edge. "An arraignment is on its way. The military court will not deliver justice. It will devour you. I’m offering you a fucking lifeline, a chance to escape the inevitable."

“I won't tarnish my brother's memory by succumbing to the same shadows that claimed him."

Kunikuzushi's eyes, once filled with a glimmer of hope, darkened with frustration. "You're condemning yourself—" he argued, "—for an idealistic notion of justice that doesn't exist. You're a fool."

"Perhaps I am a fool," you admitted, "But I am a fool who is sure of their innocence. I am not a revolutionary, I only spoke and wrote of the truth. I will not compromise my integrity for the sake of expedience."

As you spoke, the defeat in Kunikuzushi's eyes began to settle.

"You're determined," he snarled. "So stubbornly determined to die!"

"Perhaps," you acknowledged, "Choosing you would be an escape, but it would also be a betrayal of everything I stand for. And I…"

You smiled.

“I love my spouse,” you said. “And the child we made that was taken from me all so suddenly. Hence, I do not need your love, Prince Scaramouche.”

Kunikuzushi tensed up.

Your child was baptized by the Inazuman priests.

And Inazuman priests serve the royal family and their constituents.

History’s eyes will speculate that Prince Kunikuzushi was the reason your child had died, that he had ordered your son's immediate poison upon birth.

And Kunikuzushi knows it to be true.

But you will never know that.

You will never know the full extent of what this man had taken from you.

With those words, you turned away from Kunikuzushi, leaving him and his offer behind. You opened the door and gestured for him to leave. Neither of you knew at the time that this would be the last night you’d spend in the comfort of your own home.

Before you knew it, you were writing your final farewells.

(Y/n) (L/n) was subjected by the military court on ████████ ██, ████ and was sentenced to death at six in the morning.

The people saw no justice for their hero, and your body was buried in Inazuma City. If it were not for all you and your clan had given, there would be no freedom in Watatsumi Island and Ritou. Had your brother not saved the young girl, she would not become the matriarch of the Yuna Clan, who led the first Navy in the revolution.

And had you not died in Inazuma City, there would be no Resistance.

But that was centuries ago.

Divine Priestess Sangonomiya Kokomi sat on her desk, examining previous preliminary investigations. She racked her brain over the testimonies of the seven members of the military court, the judge advocate, the defense counsel, and the prosecuting attorney. The prince was right when he stated the trial would not be fair for you were forced to employ a Lt. Arataki as your defense. It was a prejudged trial. Despite the obvious assertion of innocence, you were still acquitted of your allegations of treachery.

It never fails to make the current Head Priestess feel sour over a 5 centuries-year-old case.

"In their last moments, (L/n) penned Watatsumi Fair and Canticle, two sonnets kept hidden in an alcohol burner." Kokomi murmured as she read. "Although the prince barred their spouse entry, several other family members and friends came to visit (L/n) with the Orobashi coral statue provided by the townsfolk. The sculpture was created for them during the aforementioned fair."

Are you going to Watatsumi Fair?

"In their Fontainian black suit, hat, shoes, and white vest, (L/n) walked calmly outside their prison cell to the execution site in Inazuma City. They've even checked (L/n)'s pulse and felt no irregularities. (L/n) were tied elbow-to-elbow despite their visible acceptance of fate."

"It was speculated that Prince Kunikuzushi was the last person whom they talked to, looking rather somberly with disdain. He spoke in a foreign language so only (L/n) and he knew of their conversation."

Seri, mitsuba, yomogi, shiso.

"But Archbishop Sangonomiya Umiko understood what he had said. Je t'aime, mon grand amour… ma première trahison. Roughly translated as I love you, my grand love… my first betrayal."

"Lector (Y/n) (L/n) was commanded to face the ground when the firing squad pulled the trigger, but they still tried to face their executioners. They fell to the shoveled ground, looking at the gray morning skies. They were buried at seven."

“From then on, the name Kunikuzushi changed its meaning to Country Destroyer— for he had successfully demolished the Inazuman Empire upon sitting on the throne through violent means. When asked about this, the King responded with:”

Remember me to one who lives there.

“I didn't desire the Empire that took away my (Y/n). I didn't crave any of it. As soon as I was coronated, my heart stopped beating. And so, I enticed the neighboring King Morax to crumble the very essence of the Inazuman Empire. What purpose do these soldiers have in life, when all they've done is obediently follow ruthless commands and snuff out the ones who hold my heart?

When it’s said and done, I will be empty— a blank slate, destined to wander the desolate corridors of a nation bygone.

Only to honor these filthy human emotions called “love” that never came to be.”

He once was a true love of mine.

Taglist (pls notify if you wish to be on the taglist <3): @pix-stuff @sagekun @vennnnn-diagram , @dilucragnidvr @tnsophiaonly @lsleepysimpl @kitkareen

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fdelopera · 6 months

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JVP Explained

So, I've been seeing WAY too many gentiles ignorantly uplifting an American "Jewish" group called JVP this past month.

Members of JVP have been very loud this past month, pretending that they speak for Jewish people. They do not.

As a Jew, I'm here to help you understand who this group is, why they act in the blatantly antisemitic ways they do, and why they are dangerous to Jewish people around the world.

And, as an ACTUAL Jewish voice, I am here to tell gentiles to STOP uplifting them.

If you have never heard of "Jewish Voice for Peace" (JVP), or even if you have, I want to give you an analogy that will help you understand this group:

JVP are to Jewish people what Blaire White, Kalvin Garrah, and Caitlyn Jenner are to trans people.

And it's worse, because JVP have gentiles (non-Jews) in their membership. (At least Blaire, Kalvin, and Caitlyn are actually trans.) So for JVP to even call themselves a "Jewish voice" is a lie.

Like Blaire, Kalvin, and Caitlyn, JVP's Jewish membership desperately want to be seen as "the good ones" by bigots, and they are willing to throw vulnerable people in their own community under the bus just for a chance to be accepted by those bigots.

JVP has been called out REPEATEDLY by the Anti-Defamation League for harassing observant Jews at synagogue, harassing queer observant Jews, invoking the antisemitic blood libel canard against Jewish people, and most recently, cheering on and uplifting Hamas after their pogrom on October 7. Among many, many other antisemitic offenses.

There are LEGITIMATE and VALID ways to protest the atrocities and war crimes of the Israeli government.

Let me say that again.

There are LEGITIMATE and VALID ways to protest the atrocities and war crimes of the Israeli government!

But JVP doesn't do that.

Instead, JVP chooses to amplify Neo-Nazi dogwhistles, harass American Jewish people at shul, and uplift Hamas — an antisemitic terrorist organization.

You DO NOT, and I repeat, DO NOT!! get to call yourself a "Jewish voice for peace" and then use BLOOD LIBEL, UPLIFTING ANTISEMITIC TERRORISTS, and HARASSING OBSERVANT JEWS as a way to "criticize" the Israeli government.

You are not a "freedom fighter." You are just a Jew who is a self-loathing, Jew-hating antisemite.

Now, if you're queer like me (nonbinary, genderfluid Jew here, hi!), you're likely aware of how Blaire, Kalvin, and Caitlyn have harassed countless other trans people, especially nonbinary people, for not being trans in the "right way." They do this because they are desperate for approval from right-wingers. Why? Because they, and trans people like them, have a deep sense of self-loathing, shame, and guilt about being trans. They think that if they harass other trans people, right-wingers will accept them. All they want is for right-wingers to tell them, "It's okay, we know you're not like those cringy trans people over there. You're some of the good ones."

Right-wingers then benefit from this "relationship" because they can deny that they are transphobic bigots. Right-wingers can say things like, "I don't hate all trans people. I watched a couple of Blaire White's YouTube videos, and she's alright." So by seeking out right-wing approval, people like Blaire are making it more difficult for other trans people to fight back against anti-trans bigotry. But Blaire doesn't care, so long as Republicans will pat her on the head and tell her she's "one of the good ones."

JVP are very similar to this, except that they are seeking approval from extreme left-wing groups. Jews in JVP may be on the opposite end of the political spectrum, but they are behaving in the exact same way as Blaire, Kalvin, and Caitlyn. They are members of a marginalized group who are seeking approval from bigots, and they're throwing their community under the bus in the process.

JVP's Jewish membership desperately want to be seen as "Good Jews."

(JVP's gentile membership, of course, are just leftist antisemites and are there to harass Jewish people they deem to be "Bad Jews.")

Why? Why do Jews in JVP want to be seen as "the good ones"?

Because Jews in JVP have a deep feeling of self-loathing, shame, and guilt about being Jewish, and they think if leftist groups tell them, "It's okay, you're some of the good ones," that this will somehow assuage their guilt for being Jewish.

This self-loathing, shame, and guilt goes far beyond the current Israel/Palestine conflict. That's just how it is manifesting right now. There have always been Jews who have wanted to assimilate into gentile spaces and be told that they're "the good ones." There have always been Jews who are ashamed of being Jewish.

Jews in JVP consider spreading antisemitic Neo-Nazi conspiracy theories, uplifting Hamas, and further marginalizing other Jewish people to be a small price to pay if it means that they are provisionally "accepted" by certain antisemitic gentiles. Even though these antisemitic gentiles will discard the Jews in JVP as soon as it is expedient to do so.

And of course, just like Blaire, Kalvin, and Caitlyn do with right-wingers, the Jews in JVP sanction left-wing antisemites to say: "I don't hate all Jews. I'm not antisemitic. I just hate Israeli Jews 'Bad Jews.' I just want those 7 million Israeli Jews 'Bad Jews' to be exterminated."

Sure, Jan. Sure, you're not antisemitic. You just want 7 million Jews mass murdered. In case you didn't know, you absolute ghoul, that's the very definition of antisemitic.

Oh, and Gentiles, many of you have gone mask-off enough with your Jew-hatred this month for us Jews to know that when you say "Israelis," "Zionists," "Zios," "Zio scum," "Zio rats," and every other permutation of those words, you really mean "those dirty Jews I'm allowed to hate publicly now."

But the Jews in JVP haven't studied their Holocaust history. The Jews in JVP don't care to remember that the Nazis, too, rounded us up into groups of "Bad Jews" and "Good Jews" — or, really, "Bad Jews" and "Useful Jews." Then the Nazis used the "Useful Jews" to attack the "Bad Jews." Finally, they shoved ALL the Jews that they could get their hands on into the gas chambers and tried to kill every last one of us.

And what I know from studying Holocaust history is that as soon as Jews start getting sorted into camps of "Good Jews" and "Bad Jews," you had better say, "Fuck no, I'm not being a Good Jew!"

You had better get into the "BAD JEW" camp as FAST as you can and start SPEAKING OUT, and uplifting the Jewish community, and supporting as many other Jews as you can.

If you try to be a "Good Jew," antisemites will just use you as a useful idiot and a pawn against other Jews. Then within a short period of time, you will find that EVERY Jew is lumped into the "Bad Jew" camp. And EVERY Jew is now in danger. Including you, O "Good Jew" who tried so hard to convince antisemites that you were "one of the good ones."

If JVP studied Holocaust history, they would see that they are being useful idiots for Neo-Nazis, Hamas, and other antisemitic groups that want Jews around the world to be eradicated. (You should read Hamas' excruciatingly antisemitic charter sometime. I have. The group is literally founded on Jew-hatred.)

But the Jews in JVP do not study Jewish history, or Holocaust history.

The Jews in JVP don't want to acknowledge the truth:

In siding with the Neo-Nazis, the Hamas supporters, and the other antisemitic groups that are co-opting the Free Palestine movement and turning it into a movement of Jew-hatred, the Jews in JVP are signing their own death warrant, too.

It's only a matter of time, O "Good Jews," before you are rounded up with us "Bad Jews." Because to antisemites, we're all just "dirty Jews who deserve to die."

#jumblr #judaism #jewblr #jewish #jewish history #jvp does not speak for jewish people #NOTE: I report and block antisemities. If any antisemites comment on this post you will be reported and blocked. You have been warned #antisemitism tw

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puppetmaster13u · 5 months

Text

So I am rotating the batfamily, but not like, civilian or vigilante. I am slowly rotating them all having a Malone-sona of sorts that is their in to organized crime.

Like you can't tell me people wouldn't start noticing this family that the bats, the literal cryptids and monsters of Gotham, don't even touch and lets continue to operate despite taking the older crime families apart.

And to Gotham that screams power.

Alfred = Albert “Old Al” Malone I wanna say that he doesn't go out as 'Old Al' often, but gives off Godfather sort of vibes. Usually sitting there with an old cane (that definitely has a sword, they're all dramatic like that lol) half in the dark with a cup of tea or other drink. He gets to stretch his acting skills and honestly the kids definitely had a say in the persona. Old Al is something they all made together and they have fun implying so much fun shit.

Kate = Mary “Madam” Malone She definitely gives off 'snap your spine over her knee if not for the fact it would get your blood all over her clothes' vibes. Stylized nails, hair up in fishtail braids or ponytails or whatever, looks like she could tear out ones throat and they'd thank her. It's a running gag that she's in finances, even if no one in the underbelly believes it.

Bruce = “Matches” Malone I mean, it's classic Matches (though most probably assume that Matches isn't his real name) who seems rather chill until someone breaks the rules. Gives off vibes that he doesn't usually get his own hands dirty but will do so to make a point, and enjoy doing it. He sometimes uses Matches to check in on places he can't as a shadowy cryptid, and it's not like the lower income areas would fully trust Brucie Wayne.

Barbara = Madison “Maddie” Malone Now let's be honest, Barbara enjoys messing with people, she enjoys knowing every little thing as Oracle, and she definitely does that as Maddie. The thing is, no one knows how she learns about things, other criminals search for a traitor, for a leak, for anything, and get nothing. Which is utterly terrifying. Because there has to be some sort of information network, there has to be. And somehow they're so good that they're indistinguishable to any others.

Dick = Micheal “Mikey” Malone Honestly Dick uses this chance to get into a bunch of fights just for fun. Flirts a bit more freely but doesn't really have an interest in actually getting with someone. Just has funs and is known for throwing his own parties that usually end in free-for-all brawls. He absolutely loves being able to have parties that are the opposite of galas he's usually dragged into.

Cass = Molly Malone She's quiet and graceful, but she takes it to unnerving levels as Molly. Looks slim but carries guns on her at all time to better differentiate between Cassandra Wayne, Black Bat, and Molly Malone. Everyone knows if you need a weapon, guns, meelee, whatever, she's the one you go to. Gotham help you if you cross her though.

Jason = Peter “Petey” Malone Where Molly Malone goes, everyone knows Petey will be there as well. Jason absolutely adores the time he gets to do so, it's his turn to be silent and dramatic. Everyone can recognize the jagged scar over his neck, they can recognize it from corpses the Bats have gotten their talons on. Honestly he's delighted in being able to be Cass' enforcer of sorts and just have a good fight. Even if he complains about how making his Malone mute makes it where he can't quote Shakespeare like he wants to.

Steph = “Mia” Malone Ah yes, the explosive Malone. The one who has more arson charges than Firefly. Or at least she would if she was caught, but the entire Underbelly knows it was her. Steph is living her best life being able to pull all sorts of pranks and crazy shit and takes several ideas from Harley. Honestly she probably smells like gasoline or smoke all the time, and definitely put glitter in her hair. Maybe even has red hair as a Malone as well.

Tim = Alvin “Al” Malone He still goes by Alvin Draper too, which results in half the underbelly thinking that Draper is his middle name. Honestly he's having the best time, everyone knows to come to him for forgeries and less than legal identities, which he loves to create. I mean just look at how many new identities he creates for himself alone. He enjoys this type of thing, and hey, it's so easy to keep track of whose identity is fake when you're the one who made them. Plus it also lets him do good for those on the run for good reasons, a way to make sure people are safe.

Duke = Dennis “Denny” Malone Everyone knows Denny was adopted, but y'know what, I bet they don't care. And you know Duke is utterly insane, like jump off a bridge to escape the cops and create the We are Robin gang insane. And he gets to play that up as Denny. He will put forth the most batshit ideas and actually pull them off. I bet he uses his future-sight to cheat at different games and pool tables and all sorts of things, but no one can ever prove it. Because there is no proof, and the other people playing just has to deal with it.

Damian = “Mini M” Malone The little baby of the family, who everyone knows the older Malones absolutely dote over. This is his chance to act like an actual child, just with a hint of art theft. Hey, it wasn't like they got it legally either, so it's free game, especially if they weren't taking proper care of the art or a pet. He's just pleased to get to have even more pets, and that Goliath his demon dragon-bat gets to go on walkies.

Jarro = Jadan “Lil J” Malone Now Jarro is delighted to have a third mech, and is even more delighted for people to believe Damian (or technically M jr) and him are twins. Gives off someone is going to die- of fun with Mini M, and honestly enjoys being able to use his natural telepathy to be a small horror movie child that knows too much. Like will stare up at someone with wide eyes covered in blood and the others in Gotham's underbelly still aren't sure if the blood was his or someone elses. (it was neither)

================================================

Honestly I might write a oneshot or something for the Cryptid Batfam focusing on just them as the Malones family.

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horreurscopes · 5 months

Note

So, I could be out-of-bounds here since I think you meant it as dark humor, but what did you mean in the tags of that 'israel-hamas war' post? I suspect you(and op) are criticizing that framing because Israel is obviously demolishing much more than 'Hamas'(and probably doing a terrible job of actually targeting terrorists- they seem content to reduce Gaza to rubble even if the brass of Hamas escapes). I'm guessing that by saying "joining the Israel-Hamas war on the side of Hamas" you mean, if they're going to conflate Palestinians with Hamas unilaterally, then you're saying, whatever the media wants to call Palestinian civilians- you still support them. I am asking anyways though bc, given reports of increasing antisemitic activity in the US and Europe, I am worried about the potential for blurring lines between the cause of Palestinian civilians and the alt-right individuals who are likely masking their antisemitism in the context of being anti-Zionist. Although Israel's government has been the source of Palestinian loss for decades, (it seems to me that) even joking about supporting terrorism is enough to reinforce the persuasion that Israeli/Palestinian Jews and Palestinian Arabs must be mutually-exclusive peoples. I don't think it's fully rational per se(tho I'm not claiming to have all the relevant information myself, and I'm white US American goyim so like- grain of salt-), but I think that existential fear is the incredible hurdle facing Zionist Jews. (Idc too much about the opinions of non-Jewish Zionists bc I don't grant that they are dealing with the same emotional complications at this time, although that doesn't stop me from arguing w my acquaintances abt their callous acceptance of US/Israeli propaganda.) I just think..... isn't it overall harmful to allow anti-semitic rhetoric, even used sarcastically, to enter the genuine humanist cause for Palestinian liberation? Or, have I misunderstood, and you actually are not in opposition to Hamas, or something else I didn't think of?

hi! thank you for approaching the question thoughtfully and with curiosity, i really appreciate it. i was being kind of flippant with that meme, but this is the only ask i'm going to reply to on the matter given that i am neither jewish nor arab, so i'm going to answer in earnest:

hamas is a political resistance movement with an armed wing, much like the black panthers party was, and like the bpp, a large part of the organization is dedicated to social welfare and civic restoration.

they have stated that they are not against judaism, but against the zionist project. they openly support political solutions.

labeling hamas a terrorist group is a propaganda tactic used by the united states and israel to justify the horrors of settler colonization.

hamas is palestine, a part of it, even if palestinians like any other demographic on earth, are not a unified, single-minded people. to declare hamas a separate entity falls prey to the imperialist lie that there is an enemy to fight "fairly" within the people they are displacing and exterminating.

am i rejoicing in the deaths of israelis? of course not. killing civilians and taking civilian hostages is a war crime, whether it is committed by the opresor or the oppressed. the israeli government is not its people, and many jews, within israel as well as in the US, are bravely risking their lives to publicly dissent the criminal acts of the israeli government. all loss of human life is a tragedy.

no one should ever be faced with the choice between annihilation and murderous violence after exhausting all other forms of peaceful protest and being massacred like animals.

but why is it that we consider a resistance group formed within a population with a median age of eighteen a terrorist group, and not the IDF, a US-backed military force with an annual budget of twenty billion dollars?

i am currently reading hamas and civil society in gaza by sara roy to learn more about hamas and the history of israel in palestine. i'll remember to post more excerpts which i am admittedly terrible at.

but all of the information above can be found by reading wikipedia. investigating with duckduckgo searches (not gonna pretend google isn't prioritizing propaganda, to be fair), and reading reliable news coverage like aljazeera and the many journalists who are at risk of, or have lost their lives, reporting on the ground.

i have also appreciated reading posts from @determinate-negation @opencommunion @fairuzfan @ibtisams and @bloglikeanegyptian amongst others

in conclusion:

#palestine

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unbidden-yidden · 3 months

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And so as not to derail that previous post further, I'm taking my rant to this new post, but shit like that makes me so angry for so many reasons:

It's a hate crime against Jews, many of whom are totally uninvolved in the current situation

Let's say that hypothetically that this organization and every single one of its members was publicly advocating for the destruction of Gaza** or something: vandalizing a synagogue is still a hate crime, because you're not just targeting that community by spewing antisemitism, you are targeting all Jews. Every Jew. Every Jewish institution. Because the thing is that there is never an excuse for antisemitism. If you say that there is, what you're saying is that antisemitism IS okay as long as it's directed at Bad Jews or Jews you don't like. I can't stand Caitlin Jenner, but I'm not gonna call her out of her name or misgender her. Kanye is a walking dumpster fire of a human, but that doesn't mean I get to say racist stuff about him. And yeah - even Jews with the worst, ugliest opinions do not legitimize antisemitism. Come on guys, this is Social Justice 101.

And another thing: Let's assume again the worst about this group - they still don't have any power to actually change or stop what's happening in Israel. They are diaspora Jews who, unless they are randomly dual citizens, cannot vote and do not live there. Even if this antisemitic hate crime somehow inspired a deep reflection about who and how they are as Jews (massively unlikely for reasons that should be obvious), them taking up the torch of anti-Zionism does not have any legal significance. This act, in addition to being a hate crime, is one that is not even strategic in helping to shut down bad actors with actual power, nor is it at all calculated to build community bridges.

In fact, it is almost guaranteed to have the opposite effect: these vandals have not only made enemies of this community, but alienated any other potential Jewish allies.

But even if we set that aside, assuming that they don't care, it's massively counterproductive in that it will likely inspire more diaspora Jews to feel unsafe in that location and consider aliyah as an answer. If anything, these kinds of acts of blind hatred only reinforce the legitimate fear behind much of Zionism. You people just can't help proving again and again that Jews are physically, emotionally, spiritually, and socially unsafe in the diaspora and need somewhere that is guaranteed to take us in when the next Kristallnacht happens.

It's also counterproductive, even if you actually just want Jews to die and don't care where we go; you actively want the destruction of Israel and all of the Jewish people because you're an antisemitic jackass you think it's somehow deserved: Normal people actually don't want that, and so if you're trying to attract other goyim who are decent people to your cause, associating pro-Palestinian activism with hate crimes is one of the worst things you can do in terms of PR and moral high ground.

Using Palestinian lives, deaths, and suffering as a bludgeon ignores them as real people and dehumanizes them and their struggle in the process. Anyone engaging in or excusing this kind of behavior is misusing their cry for justice as a get-out-of-antisemitism-free card, dehumanizing them by turning them into a weapon, and diverting much-needed energy away from things that actually help to doing PR cleanup and having to publicly distance themselves from these disgusting acts.

(**Please note that I am not saying these people were; in fact, I have yet to see a not-reactionary right-wing fringe Jewish group calling for anything but a return of the hostages and praying for peace in the region)

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it-was-too-cold-always · 9 months

Text

Always Read the Fine Print Chapter 3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Who actually reads all the terms and conditions? After mindlessly checking a box years ago, our Reader unintentionally agrees to be part of a scientific study to create super soldier babies. To make matters worse, her fellow test subject is the brooding and intimidating Bucky Barnes.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: As the Reader processes her role in this experiment, Bucky becomes more and more intrigued with her. He decides that his pardon is not worth her life, consequences be damned.

Warnings: arranged marriage, forced proximity, eventual smut, lots of angst

As soon as you left the room, Bucky let out a long, exasperated sigh. Fuck this, he thought, it’s not worth it. Bucky knew when he sought pardon for all his crimes as the Winter Soldier, it came with a price to pay. He knew they were going to run tests to try to recreate the serum. Granted, Bucky never thought they’d try to create super soldiers quite like this, which sent him into a blind rage. Hence why he’s on thin ice with SHIELD – turns out they don’t like it when you beat the shit out of their agents. But his rage was justifiable. Mandatory baby making? Talk about throwing consent out the window. He’s done enough harm as the Winter Soldier – making a woman to have sex with him so she can carry his child sounds like the opposite of making amends. So he decided that the only way he could morally proceed with the study is if he marries her; he can’t let her feel the cold and empty life of being a science experiment. With this new plan, he was able to swallow the idea of the study. But when he saw the dazed look on your face, the shock and fear settling into your eyes, he decided his pardon wasn’t worth it. He’d rather be locked in a cell for the rest of his days than subject you to this study…and to him.

You, on the other hand, were still in complete shock. A string of ‘holy shit’s were on a loop in your brain. You made your way up to the hotel room, ready to crawl into bed and mull over everything that just happened. I just met THE Bucky Barnes, you thought. Seriously? Quit fangirling and focus. They said you had to make super soldier babies. Surely it’ll be like IVF, right? No, you remember that guy saying something about if they fertilize too many eggs inside you, you could die. It had to be organically. Meaning sex…with Bucky Barnes. You’d think after crushing over this man for most of your life, you’d feel a little less devastated. But the whole “experiment” aspect of it really sucks out any potential for romance. With a heavy sigh, you decided not to think about it until tomorrow. Right now, it’s time for bed.

You woke up insanely early after tossing and turning all night. 3:37 AM. The goon squad said they would pick you up at 9 to start prep for the study. Better kiss your IUD goodbye. Don’t they say it can take a couple months before you can get pregnant? That could give you and Bucky enough time to get to know one another, so the whole sex part won’t be as awkward. But that lady did say that she’s moving up the timeline – boy, this was stressful. Not only did you have to get pregnant, but you’re on a time crunch. You never really did well under pressure.

Bucky also couldn’t sleep, replaying the entire interaction with you over and over, analyzing as much as he could. You came into the room dazed and confused; when your eyes met his, he saw you tense up. He anticipated not being well-received – he was, after all, an infamous Hydra killer. What he couldn’t wrap his head around was the look in your eyes afterwards. You seemed almost relieved. He couldn’t understand why. He HAD to be reading you wrong. So he replayed that moment over and over, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation. Your dark eyes hiding under thick lashes. The deep red blush on your cheeks. The way you fidgeted with your hands. All these details rolling around in his mind. The more he thought about that moment, the more he felt protective of you. He couldn’t let you be a lab rat, pardon be damned.

Finally, 9:00 came around and you soon found yourself back in an exam room at SHIELD. You were right on the verge of passing out from the IUD removal when you heard a commotion down the hall. The doctor quickly finished yanking it out of your cervix and ran off to god knows where. You heard what sounded like hand-to-hand combat – punches landing, grunting, some bones breaking. Suddenly the door to the exam room busts open, causing you to nearly shit your pants (if you were wearing any, you were still clad in nothing but a hospital gown). Bucky’s metal arm was gripping some guy’s throat, dragging him across the room.

“Get dressed,” he ordered.

Your brain was desperately trying to process his command. Dressed, right. Clothes. Where are my clothes? It was hard to think with severe cramping and being a little woozy from that damn IUD removal. While you shimmied off the exam table, Bucky tossed the now passed out guy onto the floor, looking for something. He found your clothes and purse, throwing them at you. He turned around and waited for you to put them on.

“You done?” he asked. “I’m getting you out of here. Follow me and stay close.”

“What? Are you out of your mind?” You were always such a rule follower. God forbid you get in trouble. “Bucky, that lady said you’re already in hot water. Let’s not make this worse, yeah?”

Before he could respond, several agents pop out from the hallway, guns trained right on him.

“Barnes, enough is enough. Quit throwing your little tantrum and get back to your exam room.” It was the same lady from yesterday.

“Or what, you’ll shoot me? Can’t have your little experiment if I’m dead,” Bucky taunted. Without skipping a beat, the woman fired one shot straight into his right shoulder. Agents approached to escort him out of the room, but he threw one of them into the wall with his metal arm. In response, the other agents whipped out taser batons that looked scary as hell.

“Bucky stop,” you pleaded. You were traumatized enough watching him literally get shot, you didn’t need to see him beat the shit out of the other agents while they tased him with their fancy sticks. To your surprise, he actually listened to you. He put his hands up in surrender, dropping the guy he had in a chokehold. He looked over at you defeatedly, knowing his window for breaking you out was now closed.

Chapter 4

Taglist 💛

@kandis-mom

#bucky barnes #marvel #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader

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tanadrin · 1 year

Text

[epistemic status: a bunch of semi-related thoughts I am trying to work out aloud] It has been noted countless times that reactionary politics rely on a feeling of threat: our enemies are strong and we are weak (but we are virtuous and they are not, which is why they’re our enemies!); we must defend ourselves, we must not be afraid of doing what needs to be done; we must not shie away from power generally, and violence specifically.

And there are lots of contexts--like when talking about the appeal of reactionary politics in the US before and at the beginning of Trump’s rise to prominence, or when talking about hard-on-crime policies that are a springboard to police militarization, or (the central example of all this in the 21st century) the post 9/11 PATRIOT-act terrorism paranoia that was a boon to authoritarians everywhere, and spurred a massive expansion of both control and surveillance in everyday life--where critics of reactionary rhetoric are chastised for their failure to appeal to the other side, because they come off as callous towards their concerns and their real fears and anxieties.

And while this might not be strategically correct, frankly, I think there’s a sense in which it is justified to be callous towards those concerns. Because those concerns are lies. They may be lies borne out of a seed of real experience (9/11 did happen, of course), but the way that seed is cultivated by focused paranoia, by contempt toward cultivating any sense of proportionality or any honest comparison of risk, the way it is dragooned into the service of completely orthogonal political goals (”the CIA/NSA/FBI must be able to monitor all private communications everywhere in the world, just in case it might prevent another 9/11″) chokes off any possible sympathy I might otherwise feel. American paranoia about another couple thousand lives being lost in a 9/11 like event resulted in a number of deaths literally multiple orders of magnitude larger in Iraq and Afghanistan. During the former, some years Iraq was suffering the equivalent of six or seven 9/11s a year.

So, any fear-driven policy must not (for example) say “to prevent disaster X happening again, we’re going to make it happen 270 times over to someone else.” That’s not reasonable. And “fear is a bad basis for crafting policy” is not exactly a revolutionary observation. There’s that probably-apocryphal story of a Chinese professor responding to Blackstone’s Ratio--you know, “better that ten guilty persons go free than one innocent person suffer”--with “better for whom?” Which is supposed to be this trenchant and penetrating question that makes you reexamine your assumptions. But it’s always struck me as idiotic. Better for society! For everyone! Because the law only functions well if it is seen as a source of order and justice, not as an authoritarian cudgel; because a society in which anxiety drives policymaking and legal responses to social ills is one that is in the process of actively devouring itself; because flooding the public discourse with language that dehumanizes criminals and makes it easy to separate the individual from universal principles like civil rights is an acid that destroys the social fabric.

Fear as a germ of reactionary politics manifests itself in lots of ways outside of both historical examples, like fascism, or more recent examples, like US foreign policy during the war on terror. Fear and its link to purity-attitudes, with a low level of scientific literacy in general, drives stuff like the organized anti-vaccine movement. In the Hertzsprung-Russel diagram of political tendencies, I’d argue it’s a big factor in the wellness-to-Qanon track. It’s a big part of tough-on-crime rhetoric, which in the American instance in particular also draws on an especially racialized form (cf. the “Willie Horton” ad). Fear and purity and anti-contamination anxieties are even big in opposition to nuclear power, because most of the public just has a really bad sense of what the comparative dangers of nuclear vs fossil fuel are; and because the former has been culturally salient since 1945 in a way the latter hasn’t, nuclear contamination feels much more threatening than fossil fuel waste, despite by any measurable harm the latter causing far worse problems, even before you factor in any risks from climate change.

I would like to argue in particular that true crime as an entertainment genre, and wellness culture, and fears about child abuse all contribute to reactionary politics--they are in themselves major reactionary political currents--in a way that cuts across the political spectrum because they are not strongly marked for political factionalism. A lot of the rhetoric both from and around true crime entertainment promotes the idea that violent crime exists, or at least can flourish, because of an insufficiently punitive attitude toward crime; one that can only be fixed by centering victims’ desire (or putative desire) for retribution in the legal process, by eroding the civil rights of the accused, and by giving the police and prosecutors more power. Obviously, this is just 80s and 90s tough on crime rhetoric repackaged for millennials; it centers individual experience a bit more and deemphasizes the racial component that made the “Willie Horton” ad so successful, but it posits that there is only one cause for crime, a spontaneous choice by criminals that has no causal relationship with the rest of the world, and only one solution, which is authoritarianism.

Wellness culture leverages purity concerns and scientific illiteracy in ways which are so grifty and so transparently stupid that it’s by far the least interesting thing on this list to me; its most direct harm is in giving an environment for the anti-vaccine movement to flourish, and I’m always incredibly annoyed when people talk about how the medical establishment needs to do more to reassure the public about vaccines’ safety and efficacy. Again, strategically, this may be correct; people dying of preventable disease is really bad. But doctors as a body didn’t promote Andrew Wakefield’s nonsense; doctors as a body didn’t run breathless article after breathless article about vaccines maybe causing autism; doctors as a body didn’t scare the bejezus out of folks in the 90s and then act all surprised when preventable childhood diseases started breaking out all over the place.

Although outside the whole anti-vax thing, I think there are lots of other harms that wellness culture creates. It tends to be fairly antiscientific; in order to sell people nonsense (because as a subculture it exists almost exclusively to sell people things) it has to discredit anything that might point out that it is selling nonsense. Whether the anti-intellectualism that flourishes in these quarters is a result of intentional deceit or just a kind of natural rhetorical evolution probably varies. But it is an important component of wellness culture to be able to play a shell game between “big pharma doesn’t have your best interests at heart,” “you don’t need your anti-depressants,” and “laetrile cures cancer.”

The way in which fears of child abuse are turned into a reactionary political cudgel probably actually annoys me the most; whether it’s Wayfair conspiracy theories, conservatives trying to turn “groomer” into an anti-queer slur, or just antis on tumblr, the portrayal of sadistic sexual threat aimed at children from an outside malevolent force is compelling only because the vast majority of child abuse and CSA comes from within families and within culturally privileged structures of authority like churches, and this fact makes everyone really uncomfortable, and no one wants to talk about it. I remember getting really annoyed during the Obama years when the White House wanted to talk about bullying and anti-LGBT bullying in particular, while studiously avoiding blaming parents and teachers in any way for it, despite the fact that all the coming out horror stories I know are from people’s parents turning on them.

Now, very conservative politics have always opposed dilution of a kind of privilege for the family structure; they envision a family structure which is patriarchal, and so dilution of this privilege is dilution of the status of patriarch. Very insular communities which cannot survive their members having many options or alternative viewpoints available to them, including controlling religions but also just abusive parents who want to retain control over their kids, also bristle at the idea of any kind of general society-wide capacity for people to notice how parents treat their children. But beyond that, I think our society still treats parents as having a right of possession over their children and their children’s identities, especially when they’re young, and bolsters that idea with an idea that the purity of children is constantly under threat from the outside world, and it is the parents’ job to safeguard that purity. The result is the nuclear family as a kind of sacred structure which the rest of society has no right to observe or pry open; and this is a massive engine of enabling the abuse of children. To no other relationship in our society do we apply this idea, that it should be free from “interference” (read: basic accountability) from the rest of society.

Moreover, the idea of childhood as a time of purity and innocence, which not only must be protected from but during which children must be actively lied to about major aspects of how the world works, is one of the last ways remaining to an increasingly secular culture to justify censorious and puritanical Victorian morality. It is hard to advocate for censorship to protect the Morals of the Christian Public, when nobody believes in the Morals of the Christian Public anymore; but “think of the children!” still works as a rallying cry, because of this nagging sense we have that age-appropriate conversations with children about adult topics will cause them to melt or explode.

In many ways, these anxieties on behalf of theoretical children are the ones I am most contemptuous of. Not because child abuse isn’t a serious problem--it is--but because the vector imagined for it is almost entirely opposite the one it actually tends to occur along. People who pretend that the primary danger to children is from strangers are usually woefully misinformed; people who pretend it is from media are either idiots or liars seeking a cover for their craving for censorship.

In conclusion: while it’s not possible to exorcise all our neuroses from our politics, anymore than we will ever exercise all our neuroses from our aesthetics, there are some we should be especially on guard against. A sense of threat, and anxieties which tie into concerns about purity and fears of contamination, are two big ones. These produce policies that are not only badly correlated with the outcomes they ostensibly want, but actually and severely destructive to them, in the same way that invading Iraq was actively destructive to any notion of preventing terrorism, saving American or Iraqi lives, or promoting political stability in the Middle East. And we should hold in healthy suspicion anybody whose politics seem to be driven by similar neuroses. Some merely believe very harmful things. Some are actually actively deceptive. None will achieve any of the higher aims they claim as justification for their beliefs.

#i'm not saying we *must* radically reshape society to destroy the nuclear family #but i am saying i think it would be good for child welfare

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namazunomegami · 6 months

Text

A healthy dose of stalker Geto thoughts

a/n: FYI, thats the result if you lock me up in an empty room with my laptop and a playlist full of mareux, NIN and MSI. At least I got a newfound love for Closer now bc some years ago a fic ruined the song for me lmao

Before you ask, yes, I have mental problems. But likes and reblogs are still appreciated <33

wc: 1919

cw: geto is fucking delulu, online stalking, serial murder, poisoning, dismemberment, geto cooks his blood into a meal, implied bondage, kidnapping, reader was abused, corruption, reader is forced to torture and kill their abuser, gore

credits: nakatsuji sakutaro for one of my fave geto fanarts ever <33, my dearest @notveryrussian for proofreading, my criminal pedagogy teacher for some interesting details about organized criminals lol and arone_cosplay on tiktok bc his scream au cosplay was the sole inspiration when I started writing

The dark content is heavy with this one so there's nothing wrong if you won't interact with this post! If my horror enthusiast bestie says that this shit is scary, believe them. Minors are gonna get kicked, obviously.

He’s definitely not that “Joe Goldberg from You” type of stalker. He despises the guy, he watches that show to have a laugh. It’s his form of disaster tourism. Geto is almost the antithesis of Joe. I was a big fan of the first season of You so let me elaborate. Joe has a savior complex and he latches onto any conventionally attractive rich woman in his proximity and tries to mold them into his ideal type (which is vulnerable, dependent, innocent, and forgiving) and when shit hits the fan he becomes a whiney little bitch saying stuff like “aww, but I did this all for you :cc” because he’s in complete denial about his crimes and psychopathic nature. Geto is the opposite, and what makes him so fucking scary is that he doesn’t need to convince himself that his actions are right. He knows he’s right.

Also, he won’t put on a fucking cap and go out on the streets to stalk you. That’s just a dumb decision, he has a job to do, and it’s easy to recognize him. But that doesn’t mean that he won’t do it in his spare time, from a comfortable distance. He only needs one of your socials and digs up every little detail about you. Your entire lore. Pictures shared by your relatives when you were just a little kid, he tracks your friends’ accounts (he wants to make sure that you’re surrounded by the right people), all the locations, cafés, restaurants you share on your instagram highlights, your celebrity crushes, all the playlists you made on spotify, everything. He gets to know you before you’re even aware of his existence, you’re an open book to him before he talks to you. It’s so easy to get a feel of your essence in the online space, use the tremendous information to his advantage, surprise you, win you over with his fake thoughtfulness.

"Aw, you’re so sweet, how did you know?"

"Lucky guess."

Yeah, a lucky guess, he just scrolled your twitter until 4 am to reach your first ever post.

The easiest way to understand how his mind works is to look at his MBTI type and I’ll try to hold myself back to not flood you all with my everlasting love for Jungian psychology and cognitive functions. INTJs are meticulous, skeptical, analytical, practical, everything is centered around a bigger, more complex system, a spiderweb of thoughts. Their subjective ideals and values have the utmost importance. They get lost in the details sometimes, but they manage to prioritize creativity and rationality in their actions and thought process. So, if we want to pick a category among murderers, he’d definitely belong into a mission oriented type (canon is my only proof for this). He couldn’t care less about money, power, or satisfying his needs for control. He’s the personification of punishment in his mind.

Evil is petty, he is petty, but not so much to just deal with every single nuisance in the shape of a person (looking at Joe again lol). He won’t go after the Karens at your workplace or the shitty classmates who just wanted their name on your assignment without any contribution. If he kills, he must kill for a valid reason and does it brilliantly. Calm and level-headed, organized, devoid of anger or any intense emotion. He makes awful lot of preparations for a kill. He studies the victim just like he studies with you. Their schedule, relationships, habits, social media presence. He’d rather arrange the scene to give the impression of an accident. Mixing cleaning products, fucking around with the heating system and letting them die of carbon monoxide poisoning or a house fire (an easy kill if the victim smokes). He rarely lets himself get carried away and get all bloody and gorey because he knows how much effort he must put into disposing of the body. But he does feel like a god during the process. That he rules over life and death. That he has the divine right to decide who should be removed from existence.

The only slightly risky thing he allows himself, is to put his earphones in and call you up while dismembering a corpse. Good thing that his grandma has no use for that big ass meat grinder, a literal jackpot for getting rid of the bodies. His voice is soothing, so sweet you can turn into a blushing and giggling mess, but you can still hear the loud chopping noises as he severs the body parts right at the joints. He shrugs it off that he’s just meal prepping.

You believe him, you don’t question him further. But he does cook a delicious meal just for you and sends it to your workplace. And you have absolutely no idea that he was thinking about cutting up the ingredients with the same knife he killed his victim with. Luckily, he changed his mind. You don’t deserve to have any remnants of a lowlife in your system. But the idea was nice, just like how modern witches tie their favorite person to them. There’s something ritualistic about blood consumption in his mind that he can’t explain. Hopefully, a few drops of his own didn’t ruin the meal. At least you weren’t complaining about the metallic taste. He doesn’t mind he has to live off on two cans of Monster because he pulled an all-nighter. You’re falling head over heels for him so it’s worth the suffering.

The only thing that makes his heart ache is that as your relationship develops, he must use you to forge his alibis. He immediately copied the keys to your apartment, without your knowledge of course. Sometimes he drops by when you’re absent, goes through your stuff, sniffs around, looking for trinkets. He comes over specifically when he plans to kill his next victim. Sneaks out in the middle of the night, kills them, then goes back to your place and crawls back next to you. And he’s as silent as a cat, as a phantom, as a ghost.

He’s a fucked up man in every aspect. You think he’s too hyper fixated on restraints and bondage. He’s far too keen to spend an excruciatingly long time arranging the rope in an aesthetically pleasing way, or have the gag’s and blindfold’s colors match perfectly. His creativity and imagination are running wild when you’re the rigger. You almost question his sanity when he asks you to use cable ties and masking tape on him. What does he want? To feel tortured? Deep down he’s fascinated with the feelings a potential victim might experience. A taste of distress, vulnerability, helplessness that he usually has no chance to feel, yet he’s thrilled about it. You still won’t suspect a thing, everybody’s got a weird kink or two that they can’t explain, right?

He knows that one day, you’ll discover his secret. That he can’t hide it forever and even though he justifies his vile actions by giving it a noble cause, he must earn your forgiveness. He deliberately kept those who hurt you mostly alive. Whether it’s a bully, the shittiest ex known to mankind, or an abusive parent. He knows he has no right to kill them. But he can bring them to your basement, gagged and tied up. The best birthday gift ever is to let you have your revenge, right? Or maybe he just wants somebody as irredeemable as him, like he’s undeserving of anything nice in life so he must break it, tarnish it, ruin it. The world is a such a cruel place for kind spirits, he feels the need to corrupt them. Bring them down to his level.

He lined up a bunch of tools, a wooden bat, scissors, knives, razor blades, a hatchet, a hammer. He transformed the basement into a makeshift rage room. You don’t dare to cry, run, or scream at him, the person before your eyes makes you freeze completely, your features are distorted in dread. An old response got triggered, your nervous system remembers those years, you’re flooded with memories. You feel yourself regressing back to the victim you once were and that’s the process that Geto wants to stop once and for all. It’s so strange that you find safety in his presence and his firm hold above your elbows. He’s looming over you like a shadow, a shroud. Like the devil on your shoulder. Cooing in your ear to pick up something and have fun, let your rage cloud your mind, make them relive your pain. Don’t worry about a single thing because he will do all the clean-up. And you have no idea why, but you accept.

It’s strangely comforting. You feel in control, all-powerful, accomplished. It feels better than it should. It feels so right but it shouldn’t. There’s no guilt in you, only endorphins running rampant in your veins. The dopamine rush enslaves you, fills your brain with white noise. The pain does fade a little or something just irrevocably breaks in you. Maybe you’re just as fucked up as him and you managed to bury it in the deepest corner of your psyche. All bottled up for years like the most exquisite French wine, chained just like a beast but now it’s freed. Your reward is a bloody pile of flesh and guts that once was a person, and utter devotion gleaming in Geto’s eyes.

Your consciousness gets clearer, you notice the sensation of being drenched in blood and sweat when the realization hits you that there’s no going back. Now, you’re sticked together for life. You know his dirty little secret and now you’ve forged your own that he can blackmail you with if you ever want to get away from him. But why would you do that? You’re everything he needs and he’s all you have.

#i wanna write something kind and sweet after this one #this fic took a toll on me #i should blame the way i write povs #its kinda close to method acting but in writing lol #i try to think in character digging down in the deepest parts of their mind their pov is my pov #i literally warp my thoughts to get them right so you can guess how exhausting it is mentally to think and feel like such a character #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #suguru geto x reader #the new fic im writing is a copjaku fic lol very kind and sweet indeed /s #jjk #geto suguru x reader #jjk headcanons #meesa writes

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niqhtlord01 · 6 months

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Humans are weird: The Monster I’ve Become

( Don’t forget to come see my on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord )

Alfonso awoke to the sound of the doors to the interrogation cell slowly opening followed by two figures entering. Neither said anything to him as they entered and closed the door behind them. He eyed each carefully as they positioned themselves in the room but likewise said nothing. Both were Mendrari though by their clothing he could tell they were of different status.

The first wore a decorative robe of bright green with tiny red triangle patterns sewn into the fabric. This covered the majority of their body save for their hands and feet, both of which adorned with the finest off world shoes and gloves he had ever seen since coming to the planet. They sat down across from Alfonso at the table and set down the data pad they had been reading when they entered the room.

Unlike the first figure the second, who was lurking just outside of the cone of light provided by the lone light source of the room, was a far contrast in wardrobe. They wore a tight military uniform with Drenti metal fragments woven into the fabric essentially turning it into a sudo suit of armor.

Though he couldn’t make out much detail while they stood in the shadows, Alfonso saw a glint of crystal on the military figure’s shoulder indicating rank and wagered that they were at least a general in the Mendrari military; or whatever equaled to a general in the Terran Republic.

“Alfonso Muñoz,” the first figure at the table began, “do you know why you are here?”

Their native language was being translated by a linguistic unit attached to their throat. Even so, Alfonso found the experience unpleasant as it was like listening to two voices speaking at the same time.

“I will not answer questions until I am provided a Terran counsel.” Alfonso replied.

“This is not a human world,” the first figure replied dismissively, “you will not be provided a counsel for these proceedings.”

“I am a sovereign citizen of the Terran Republic and demand a-“

Alfonso never finished his sentence as the second military figure paced around the table and back handed him across the face. The blow wasn’t enough to break his jaw, yet a glob of blood fell from his mouth all the same. Mendrari skin having the same texture as sandpaper didn’t help the matter. Alfonso recovered from the blow feeling like his right check had been scraped clean off.

If the sudden violence was upsetting to the first figure they gave no sign of it. They merely waited for their military compatriot to finish before continuing.

“Given the severity of your crimes and the threat to our own security you present your government has not been informed of your detention.”

The words slowly sank into Alfonso as he straightened up and spat a thick glob of blood at the military figure’s feet.

“And here I thought your kind were above such crude tactics as kidnapping.” Alfonso chuckled. “And what sort of threat could I be if you already have me locked up in a cell?”

“A question I wish to have answered.” The first figure replied.

Entering several keys on their data pad a holographic panel appeared in the center of the table. Several images and transcripts began scrolling through the display while the first figure watched for any reaction from Alfonso.

“You have been identified as a leader of the terrorist organization D.A.A.I.F, or “Defense Against Alien Influence Front”.”

Alfonso shrugged. “It’s not a name I personally would have gone with, but you know about changing horses mid race and all.”

“We also know that the group has been planning a large attack scheduled to take place in the coming rotations; you will tell us the target and the method in which your compatriots will use.”

Alfonso leaned back in his chair and looked at the alien opposite him. “And why would I turn in my comrades, Mr… ?”

“Chu’ll,” The first figure replied before pointing to the second alien, “and this is Merg’ell.”

“And we both know they were not true comrades.” Chu’ll finished.

Alfonso said nothing as the holographic feeds changed and brought up only data regarding him. “We know that you only joined D.A.A.I.F five months ago and have never fully embraced their co leaders or values as an organization.”

“They hate your species, that’s enough for me.” Alfonso replied coldly, but Chu’ll shook his head.

“We know that their hate and your hate are not the same.” Chu’ll countered. “You were not at home with a group whose most dangerous attack to date has been a series robberies against banking institutions. You wanted more.”

“What are you expecting me to say?” Alfonso asked. “Do you think I’ll suddenly spill my guts and detail all my plans? Give out all the sources the group had? Beg for your forgiveness and plead for my life?”

“We are wasting our time with these games.” Merg’ell spoke for the first time. Their hand shot out and latched around Alfonso’s throat and tightened. “Tell us what we want and you may spend your remaining days without constant pain.”

Alfonso felt the grip tighten more and more around his throat; the sandpaper like texture of Merg’ell’s skin adding even more discomfort and pain as he started gasping for breath.

Just as he was started to see shadows creeping from the corners of his eyesight his would be killer relented and released him.

Gasping for breath he could barely hear Chu’ll speaking to him once more.

“We know you were part of the first contact incident with our people. We understand that your feelings towards are kind must be-“

“You….understand…nothing.” Alfonso spoke between gasps. He would be damned if this alien piss sack would preach to him that they understood his feelings.

“You took my wife and child from me, burned my home to the ground, slaughtered my friends and family and left my world to burn.” Alfonso replied. His anger swelled within him like a raging fire as he remembered the day the Mendrari invaded. He could still see the lifeless eyes of his pregnant wife looking up at him as he sifted through the rubble of his home. He could smell the scent of her burning hair, and feel the warmth drain from her skin.

“If your wife was here with you now, would she still love the man you have become?”

As if ripped from his memories by Chu’ll’s words Alfonso looked up at the alien and watched as they recoiled slightly in their chair. His gaze was that of death itself as he teetered on the idea of lunging forward and ripping the throat out of the alien.

It took a moment but Alfonso finally calmed himself down and decided on another tact.

“Do you know how your sphere drives work?”

Whatever Chu’ll or Merg’ell had been expecting the human to reply this was not it.

“Excuse me?” Chu’ll asked for clarification.

“Your sphere drives.” Alfonso repeated. “Do you know how they work?”

Merg’ell slammed his fist into the table. “I said en-“

Chu’ll held up a hand and the military lackey ceased his outrage. He huffed and retreated back into the surrounding shadows while Chu’ll answered.

“Engineering was never my strong suit.” The alien admitted.

“Whereas it was mine during my previous life.” Alfonso answered with a grin. “I loved technology and observing all of the tiny intricacies of how a device works.”

Now invested in the discussion he leaned forward against the table. “You see unlike jump drives my people use which only sends the ship it is attached to, your sphere drives essentially make a bubble around the entire ship easily a few kilometers in size and launch it as a whole. This makes it safer for travel.”

“I fail to see what this has to do with the topic at hand.” Chu’ll spoke, but this only made Alfonso nod as if he had just been asked the correct question from a favorite student.

“It all ties in but since you’ve been patient I can explain.”

“You are right that D.A.A.I.F was incompetent, but what they did have was a well-established network of sympathizers and suppliers able to get whatever you needed if you could provide enough funds.”

Wheels began turning for Chu’ll and Alfonso saw a glint in the alien’s eye as he started putting the pieces together.

“The bank robberies…” he began as Alfonso nodded.

“A means to get enough funds to purchase several dozen of your sphere drives.”

“To supply an attack fleet?” Merg’ell spoke up, but Alfonso shook his head.

“You’d have seen that many ships coming several systems away; no, I had a much better idea for them.” He looked at Chu’ll and smiled as the threat of the unknown began to plague the alien’s mind.

“What did you do?”

“Have you ever wondered what would happen if a sphere drive was activated in atmosphere?” Alfonso asked.

“They would….” Chu’ll began as the final piece fit into place. “Oh my gods.”

“Exactly.” Alfonso finished. “They’d rip apart everything that was within their sphere and launch it hurtling into space leaving a gaping void in its wake!”

Merg’ell pulled out a communicator of his own. “This is Merg’ell to command; begin immediate orbital scans of major population centers for sphere drive energies.”

“Still so small.”

Merg’ell cut off the link to look down at the human who was now looking up at him.

“What did you say?” Merg’ell demanded as he hoisted the human up again; only this time Alfonso was far less afraid.

“You think I would settle my revenge with just a few cities?” the human mocked. “No; just as you took my world from me I shall take yours.”

“You speak of madness!” Merg’ell shouted as he shook the tiny human. “You could not destroy a planet with sphere drives.”

“That depends on your definition of destruction.” Alfonso remarked with a grin.

Merg’ell was going to demand the human to elaborate but they did so without provocation.

“When you punch enough holes in a ship it will eventually sink; so what do you think will happen when those sphere drives detonate in the atmosphere across this entire world at the same time?”

The horrific picture finally came into focus for both aliens as they were no longer dealing with a terrorist threat, but a global extinction level event.

“How do we stop it!”

Both aliens demanded, but Alfonso just grinned and closed his eyes as he heard a low rumbling far down the corridor of the complex he was held in.

“I activated their countdown sequence the moment you capture me. It’s already too late.”

#humans are insane #humans are space oddities #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #scifi #story #writing #original writing #niqhtlord01

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unionize-aromantically · 1 month

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Ok but yeah, an introduction post to all the new people!

I am Ink. I am aroace, romance repulsed, sex indifferent and nonpartnering. My pronouns are he/him and lee/lem/lis/lemself and xe/xem. Genderwise you can consider me like a guy, but a guy that also really likes to be referred to with gender neutral terms.

I am a Norwegian person who likes language learning, music and politics. I also like bragging about being aro and aroace. I read a lot so check out the #bookblogging tag for that (I also talk about that a lot on mastodon).

I post a lot about music on my sideblog @music-fan . I am a big fan of car seat headrest, and tons of different Midwest Emo bands. More too, but that's like 90% of my posts there.

I have a mastodon account. Not sure I want to tell everyone to follow there, but it exists if you want to like be friends friends who talk. It's not a parasocial social media really. My url there is @/ink@/turtle.garden.

Reasons you might want to unfollow me

I don't have my age public. (If you have minors/majors DNI I assume you're gonna unfollow.)

I support trans people, which includes both trans men and trans women. (cause apparently this is controversial). (no I don't think trans women being oppressed means trans men aren't, and not the opposite either)

I don't have a stance in neither syscourse nor shipcourse. (not at all involved in the shipping world, and syscourse I just don't want to) (though to be clear I don't support harassment or fakeclaiming or anything like that for syscourse)

I support Palestine

I don't condemn Hamas - not because the lives of the israeli civilians they killed don't matter, they do matter - but because Hamas is the organization/government/political party fighting for Palestine and it's not like they were breaking some long peace, it's not like the idf hasn't killed more civilians

I don't believe in the death penalty. (except maybe for people who commited crimes against humanity).

that's all I can think of but yeah.

And if you're interested in being friends, I really like being social! Just hmu in the DMs or asks. It's very much cool :)

@unionize-aromantically

#ink.post #txt

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eoieopda · 1 year

Note

hello, jade! 👋 congratulations on 2k followers 👏 👏 you deserve it sm!!! I'm so proud of you! 🫶 if it's okay, I would like to request something for your 2k drabblepalooza event, please. it would be a JungKook x reader e2l drabble with the trope "cuddling for warmth", please. :) (it's been hard for me to find some great fluffy fics with jk and I love everything you write, so I know it'll be good if you decide to write it ♡) thank you in advance, take care! 💕

tysm, sweet bean! as i am wont to do, i went a bit left field. hope that’s okay 😵‍💫 tbh, this one was actually really difficult for me to attempt in drabble format because those things feel so opposite to me and would normally justify a lot more backstory, i think?? but i loved the challenge!! i went more with a “life decided we are enemies” kind of thing.

pairing: jeon jungkook x gn!reader type: drabble | wc: 811 | 18+ genre: hurt/comfort, angst au: enemies to lovers(ish), organized crime summary: you didn’t plan this far ahead. you should have. cw: implied gunshot wound & blood (after the fact, not described in detail) / implied criminal enterprise / reference to threats (a hit) / a plot twist? in this economy? / ambiguous ending

Jungkook hisses as he tightens the belt around his bicep. Not far below it, invisible with the deep black of his jacket, is proof that he isn’t invincible after all. In fact, he bleeds much more freely than anyone else you’d ever met — or, more specifically, anyone else you’d ever shot.

Clipped, rather. The bullet barely grazed him.

He sits two meters away, half-slumped and wholly displeased. Between you, there’s a spent shell casing — your last — that had previously been sitting pretty in a magazine, itself nestled in a pistol once strapped snugly against your right thigh. The gun was confiscated and that thigh strap is useless now, just like the black denim underneath it; the turtleneck sweater above it; and the radiator behind you that likely hasn’t worked at any point in your lifetime.

Cold concrete nips at your ass despite your jeans and you shiver. As it saps what’s left of your body heat, makes the back of your thighs tingle until they’re numb, you do your best to squeeze yourself tighter. You can’t reduce your surface area to zero, but if you shrink as much as is physically possible, you can try your best to keep warm.

For the same reason, you can’t lean your exhausted body against the stone wall behind you, but you can crumple forward and rest against the bent knees you clutch to your chest. You can’t stop glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, either, but you can use the fallout from your ponytail as cover and pretend that you aren’t.

Suffice to say, this was not how your night was supposed to go.

“Worst fucking shot I’ve ever seen in my life,” Jungkook mutters through gritted teeth for what you imagine to be the hundredth time. His scoff is visible when it hits the air; his rage doesn’t dissipate the way his breath does. “Kim was right there and you hit me instead? Unbelievable.”

You don’t respond.

If you unclench your jaw to do so, the chattering of your teeth might reduce them to dust in your mouth.

Without your cell phone, you can’t tell how much time passes while you sit in silence. You can’t confirm your suspicion that the temperature outside has, in fact, dipped far below zero. Similarly, you can’t tell if anyone stuck around after locking you in this basement to see how long it would take for the cold to take you out — or to finish the job themselves if you beat the odds.

Jungkook huffs as he shifts in place. Now, with his back resting uncomfortably against the wall, he glares headlong at you. Unfortunately for him, looks can’t kill.

If they could, you wouldn’t be in this mess.

Against your better judgment — again — you give in to the primal part of your brain that begs for self-preservation. Your muscles are stiff after so much time spent in knots, and they ache as you push yourself off the ground. Your joints protest too, clicking uncomfortably as they resettle. Wordlessly, you ignore the confusion knitting Jungkook’s brows together and cross over to him.

When you reach him, you drop into the space at his side — his good side — and lean against the arm that isn’t trying hard to clot. He doesn’t flinch or attempt to move away, either because he doesn’t have the energy or because he wants to live, too. So, you rest your head against his shoulder and your eyes drift shut as your combined warmth starts to soothe. Eventually, his cheek claims the top of your head. You have to glance up at him to confirm that this is a choice and not a sign.

Still breathing.

For now.

“Boss know how bad your aim is?”

He doesn’t because it isn’t.

You’re an expert marksman — the best of the best — and you don’t miss. Because he knows that, he now knows that your failure to take down the target wasn’t an accident; it was an illusion. Worse, it was a blatant refusal to carry out a direct order. One he gave to you because he’d wholeheartedly believed that you, more than anyone else, could be trusted.

Not like Jungkook, who isn’t the surreptitious infiltrator he thinks he is; and who still doesn’t grasp the rules or the stakes of the game he’s playing.

Who doesn’t know that the purpose of this errand wasn’t to kill a member of the Kim family; or that he was never meant to leave this warehouse with you.

Who will likely die regardless of your subtle attempt to dodge that outcome; and who — like you — didn’t plan more than two steps ahead.

Whose hatred for you and all you stood for was predetermined by circumstance; and who doesn’t know that you know.

It’s not a question when you reply.

“Boss knows you’re a badge, agent.”

#jade’s requests #jade’s drabbles #2k drabblepalooza #jjk #jeong jungkook #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook drabble #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenarios #bts #bts drabble #bts imagine #bts scenarios #btshoneyhive #micdropnet #btsafterdarknet #re: the one with jungkook and the sharpshooter

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icespur · 5 months

Text

There are not enough Mpreg Parent Akeshu fics

I must admit, I'm a bit disappointed.

it's not like there's zero. There are some, but not nearly enough or I'm not looking in the right tags.

There's especially HUGE missed potential that not enough people utilize.

I've seen wholesome Akiren as a parent. Seems everyone is in agreement he'd be the chillest, awesomest, father.

But what about Akechi?

Goro "I had a bad childhood, no father figure, Mom passed away when I was young leaving me to grow up in either Foster Homes or the closest living relatives the Social Worker could track down. Who took me in but didn't want me. so I grew up to mask my true nature by being polite on the outside and a celebrity to get some form of positive attention, and I tracked down my deadbeat father who I'm going to ruin the life and career of out of spite and vengeance, for me and my late Mother." Akechi.

The man has childhood baggage, who knows how many young children he's interacted with as an adult. So his experience would range from "limited" to "none existent"

If one of these boys wouldn't take to being a parent well immediately, it would be Akechi. Like, the man is having an external crisis, he's not okay.

"I am the LAST person that should be a father. Do I look like fatherly material to you? I can't even recall the last time I interacted or made eye contact with an infant. Maybe I never did! I can do research and read books, I'm good at researching, I'm going to read the books no matter what but that can only help so much. I know what not to do, from my childhood. I'm going to try my best to do the exact opposite of what Shido did, but no parent is perfect, I could still screw the kid up! Not to mention I'm still processing the fact that MY RIVAL HAS A FUCKING FULLY FUNCTIONING UTERUS.

I knocked up my Rival

I knocked up the man I once shot in the head

I knocked---holy hell what have I done?

I've never been interested in Women, so I never thought I'd have to worry about accidentally planting a little me inside someone. Do you realize how many women I have turned down?

So here I was, thinking I'd be safe. That obviously nothing would come from indulging in a night of passion with my frustrating, Idiotic sexy, alluring, Rival.

But once again, you are just full of surprises apparently in the internal organs sense too because you can carry children and now both of us are unironically FUCKED."

"I'm not going to force this on you, I just thought you deserved to know. If you don't want to we can--"

"Pfft, HAHAHAHA. You say that like it's an actual option. Do I need to remind you what my upbringing was like? I'm not repeating the same mistakes, I'm not leaving. Granted you are obviously in a better financial situation and have a proper support group unlike my Mother. But if I decide to leave now, or stay but run later down the line, what's stopping our child from living in a constant internal state of guilt and loneliness, which will eventually evolve into anger and spite and once they're of age to move out, make it their mission to hunt me down and enter a false work alliance so they can gain my trust enough to eventually betray and torture me. Or just flat out kill me. And You know what? I wouldn't blame them! I'd kill me too if I could. I can't let that happen, I refuse to put a child with my D.N.A. through what I went through. So we are moving in and getting married (oh my god, I have to move in and marry my Rival) Because that's what Japanese family laws all encourage. And I'm going to internally pray and wish that I don't somehow manage to fuck up an innocent being that belongs to us, even though I have no idea what I am doing. Did I mention I have zero experience with babies and children?"

Point is, parentGoro! Has so much potential and it should be a crime that there are so little fics exploring that.

#persona 5 royal #persona 5 #goro akechi #akiren #ren amamiya #akira kurusu #akeshu #shuake #ren x akechi #fanfic writers away!#ao3 writers where you at?#calling all Akeshu/Shuake writers!#mpreg fic #reluctant parent #new parent #Akeshu child

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girlactionfigure · 18 days

Text

🔅After Shabbat - ISRAEL REALTIME - Connecting to Israel in Realtime

Moadim l’Simcha - Happy Chol HaMoed Passover

🔻ATTACK on Shabbat - ROCKETS - from Hezbollah / Lebanon - at Shomera

🔻ATTACK on Shabbat - DRONES - from Hezbollah / Lebanon - at Beit Hillel, Kfar Giladi, Kfar Yuval, Metulla, Manara, Ma'ayan Baruch, Margaliot, Misgav Am, Kiryat Shmona, Tel Hai, Dishon, Iftach, Malkia, Mevuot Hermon Regional Council, Ramot Naftali

🔻ATTACK on Shabbat - ROCKETS - from Hezbollah / Lebanon - at Manara, Margaliot, Kiryat Shmona x 2 rounds

❗️NATIONAL SECURITY MINISTER BEN GVIR.. in a serious car accident before Shabbat, his driver ran a red light (with siren on) - the car was t-boned and flipped as an oncoming car in the opposing right lane couldn’t see them after the car in the left lane stopped. The minister, diagnosed with multiple rib fractures, was transferred from Asaf HaRofeh hospital to Hadassah Hospital in Jerusalem.

❗️HAMAS RELEASES ANOTHER HOSTAGE PROPAGANDA VIDEO.. of hostages Keith Siegel and Amri Midan. (( We wonder if anyone will take this WAR CRIME, using prisoners as propaganda, to the International Court of Justice. Oh who am I kidding. ))

❗️US DEPLOYS AIR WING TO SAUDI ARABIA.. A large number of F-16Cs of the US Air Force's 510th Fighter Squadron have been deployed to Prince Sultan Air Force Base in Saudi Arabia.

▪️IDF.. two paratrooper battalions, 101 and 890, rotated out of Gaza and into training for Rafah attack.

▪️GAZA.. Friday night extensive IDF airstrikes in Nusirat - the Air Force bombed terrorist targets in the north of Nusairat and al-Zawaida, residential buildings in al-Mugraqa were destroyed that were used by Hamas terrorists for activities against our forces, plus targeted airstrikes in west Rafah and south Khan Yunus.

On Shabbat morning, IDF naval bombardment into the Gaza City shoreline.

▪️JUDEA-SAMARIA.. Friday night, raid on Ibad, Jenin area. Enemy fire at the Jenin Salem checkpoint, two terrorists eliminated in the firefight. On Shabbat day, forces raided the Palestinian village of Kfar Ein, northwest of Ramallah.

▪️LEBANON.. IDF forces attacked a number of targets in a number of different locations in southern Lebanon, including the village of Markaba, the town of Khula, Yatar, and Sarabin.

▪️IRAQ.. The pro-Iranian militias in Iraq claimed last night that they attacked a "vital target" in Haifa with a suicide drone. No such event recorded in Israel.

🟡 CEASEFIRE NEGOTIATIONS.. Israel submitted its proposal via the Egyptian mediators, Hamas “will consider it”.

.. US National Security Adviser Jake Sullivan: thinks there is new momentum in the talks on the release of the abductees

.. Opposition leader Yair Lapid in an interview on News 12: "If the choice is the cessation of fighting in Gaza or a hostage deal, we should go for a deal.”

.. A senior security official to the Wall Street Journal: "The way to end the conflict with Hezbollah is to escalate it. Israel cannot stop now - it is dangerous for the entire region.”

▪️AID.. recent video from Gaza shows Gaza’s complaining about receiving Skittles that have expired (as of Feb). (( This is hunger? ))

.. Reuters, for the first time since the death of seven workers of the aid organization World Central Kitchen - a humanitarian aid ship left the coast of Cyprus towards Gaza. (( Propaganda, not effectiveness. One of these ships is about 3 trucks of aid. ))

▪️HOUTHIS.. The spokesman for the military wing of the Houthis claims that they attacked a British oil tanker with missiles, and that yesterday they shot down an American MQ-9 Reaper drone. US Central Command: The Houthis launched three anti-ship missiles from Yemen into the Red Sea and caused minor damage to the British ship MV Andromeda Star; a missile landed near another undamaged vessel.

#Israel #October 7 #Hamas Massacre #Gaza #Israel/HamasWar #Real Time Updates

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th3-unseen-backup · 3 months

Text

02/08/2015 17:14:56 PST

>Initiate protocol SEEK.

>Searching…

>39/287 person(s) of interest found…

>Open “Deacam” live video feed.

>Create new .txt

>...|

The Deacam

[Flitting through the corners of the traffic camera’s grainy view, a man in a cowboy hat is seen hurrying through the shadows of LA. At one point, the man attempts to cross a seemingly barren street yet manages to narrowly avoid being hit by a car. Unshaken, he stops, speaks to the driver, and afterwards the driver points him in the opposite direction as he continues to explain something to him. Afterwards, the cowboy breaks away from the driver, bounding through the shadows, a left here, a few honks there, three blocks straight – almost runs into a street vendor here, a right and finally… he slows down, but still clutching his chest. He approaches a cafe and is wreathed by its warm tide of light.]

>Store “deacon sadly doesnt get hit by a car.txt” in folder:Files under directory:Storage 4.

>Reconnecting with “Deacrophone”, please stand by…

>Connected.

>Automatic live transcription protocol initiating, please stand by…

>Start.

[Footsteps with the gentle click of spurs, followed by panting. Then, a doorbell chimes happily, gentle murmur crowds a corner, footsteps muffled by a rug for brief second.]

Bennett, A. : Oh, thank god, you’re here. I was starting to worry you wouldn’t come. Do you want to get something before we get into it? I was gonna get a coffee.

Keller, D. : Sorry, Arthur, I got a little lost on the way here. [Rustling of fabric, continues speaking over it.] I'm not much of a coffee drinker myself, is there something else you'd recommend?

Bennett, A. : Hm, I could see you enjoying some chai. You don't have to, though, I know you've got some… Dietary restrictions. [A pause.] I'm sorry, Deacon. This whole small talk thing is pretty new to me.

Keller, D. : [Short chuckle.] Don't we all? A cup of chai sounds wonderful, Arthur.

[Footsteps joined together.]

Keller, D. : Don't worry about the small talk either, friend. We've got enough big stuff to talk about tonight that we should get started, eh?

Bennett, A. : Can we wait… A bit for that kind of talk? [More footsteps, fabric rustles.] (Gently, but closer to phone’s general location.) Remember, I'm the one paying here.

Keller, D. : Of course we can wait, Arthur. I've got all night. [Footsteps.] As for who's paying… I suppose we'll have to see.

[Chair screeches against the floor, creaks. The gentle tide of conversation across the cafe is all that accompanies us. Break in conversation lasts exactly 17 minutes, 46 seconds, and 3 milliseconds.]

Bennett, A. : [Some footsteps, followed by the clinking sounds of cups on a table and another chair hauled out.] (Playfully) We will not 'have to see'. [A sigh.] So, where do we start?

Keller, D. : [A long sigh.] I'll admit, it's been quite a while since I've had a human drink - erm, besides alcohol. [Clink of a cup, pause.] Why don't we start with the vampire hunter you keep on a leash, huh?

Bennett, A. : He's a valuable asset. I'm sure you can understand that. I don't see what the issue is here, and even less why you keep insisting on destroying every plan I've ever had and putting every person I've cared about in danger. [A pause.] (Softly) You're included in that, for what that's worth. [Another pause.] Vampire hunters all around the nations are connected to Magnus, in one way or another. Cut one of the hydra’s heads, and two’ll bite, you know how organized crime goes. Killing Magnus wouldn't solve anything. Keeping him alive is what gets me the information that keeps us alive.

Keller, D. : I can understand keeping him close for intel. And I guess I can even understand going to his house for glasses of wine, sure. (Growing with conviction) What you need to understand is that bastard had a deliberate hand in the deaths of kindred I cared about. As for destroying your plans, how the hell am I supposed to know anything? It's not like you have told me anything about what you're trying to do. I'm in the dark here, Arthur. So forgive me for ‘endangering everything you care for’ or whatever. [Shuffling of mug against wooden table.]

Bennett, A. : What you need to understand is that the intel I got from Magnus is what saved the lives of some kindreds stuck in that building. Shiloh would be dead without what I've been doing here, and you too, probably. What happened at Crépuscule would have happened regardless of his presence, the only difference is, I got to save some people. [A pause.] And I'm sorry I assumed you were smart enough to understand I, a vampire, wasn't hanging out with a vampire hunter for 'fun'.

Keller, D. : And how was it supposed to look, Arthur? [Tightening of leather glove around porcelain] Get off your god-damned high horse for a second and look at this from my perspective. You had intel that Crépuscule was gonna go up, and what? Instead of - I don't know - warning the kindreds there about the attack, you sat down, had a glass of whiskey and fucked around? And don't make some excuse about not having enough influence to speak, Emizel climbed the fucking rafters with a microphone to talk shit.

Bennett, A. : You're right, I knew. I tried warning some people, but I should have tried harder. Some vampires make it seem so goddamn hard to act even somewhat amiable. [A pause.] (Raising in intensity, but not volume.) But you're right. I don't know why I didn't try harder, or why I still can't bring myself to care about the people that died. Maybe it's because all of them were awful to me, maybe it's 'cause I'm a monster, maybe it's 'cause I still can't bring myself to believe that there's any unlife worth living. [Shuddering breath.] Still, it doesn't change the fact Magnus is more useful to us alive than dead, and that going after him, whether you manage to kill him or not, essentially equates suicide, and worse, a fucking war. [A pause.] All the cards are on the table now, Deacon. What's your verdict?

[Long period of silence settles over them, punctuated by the simple rhythm of a boot tapping the floor and the piercing clicks of its spur.]

Keller, D. : How can you be so human, yet so glaringly not simultaneously? One second you preach about protecting ones you care about, but the very next, you're stone-hearted about every single kindred around you that you sign away the lives - the unlives - of. Regardless of what you think about the ways we are forced to live, you have no say in how others live it. And you sure as hell have no say in who dies. [A pause, a breath.] I don't give a rat's ass about killing your vampire hunter pet any more, to hell with him. What I care about is the oath I made to the Crown and the Ventrue clan to protect our kindred, and to uphold the Masquerade. I failed to protect anyone that day, hell, I almost met The Final Death myself. [A pause.] Maybe you don't feel the same, but this unlife was a miracle for me. It gave me a… A second chance. [Grinding of a chair against a plywood floor, the clamber of boots.] Whatever curse you see it as, you need to start looking for the blessings, Arthur, or the Final Death is going to come a hell of a lot sooner. And no matter how well you prepare, it's not gonna be the freedom you think it is.

[Footsteps followed by the snap of spurs, first on wood, then on rug, and, accompanied by the merry chime of a bell, finally on concrete.]

>Store “arthur n deacon argue like bitter exes in public awk transcript.txt” in Folder:“word on the street” under Directory: ME :3

>End transcription.

#in character #the suckening rp #jrwi rp #ooc: long post under more

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