#like look at what's happening to women in Afghanistan right now with the Taliban | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mariacallous · 1 year

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Women in Afghanistan have disappeared, said Mahbouba Seraj, a prominent rights activist and, most recently, Nobel Peace Prize nominee who stayed behind when the extremist Taliban stormed back to power 18 months ago. Every day, it seems, they issue new edicts that are systematically erasing women from public life. “We don’t exist anymore,” she said. “We are not being seen. We are not allowed to do anything, go anywhere, do our study, go to work.”

Taliban pledges during peace talks with former U.S. President Donald Trump’s administration to respect women’s rights were lies, she said. Since their return, they’ve repeated those lies to gullible Western officials whose demands for a reversal of anti-women rules are met with “more lies” and even stricter rules.

And yet. As Afghanistan nears the precipice of economic and social collapse, Seraj, 75, told Foreign Policy the time has come for the world to engage with the Taliban.

The flight of prominent, educated, and capable Afghans is a brain drain that has helped rob the country of its future, she said. After 18 months of brutality, it’s time “to hear their [the Taliban’s] side of the story, too. We really have to come up with some agreement. Talks have to start with the Taliban. It’s not going to work this way. If we don’t sit down and talk to them and see what it is exactly that we can do and they can do, the ones who are going to be paying for it, and who are paying a huge price, are the poor people of Afghanistan, the women and children.”

Seraj is the niece of Amanullah Khan, king of Afghanistan from 1926 to 1929, executive director of the Afghan Women Skills Development Center, and runs domestic violence shelters in Kabul for women and children who she said the Taliban want to put in prison. Even under the republic government, girls and women were often imprisoned if they ran away from abusive fathers or husbands or were suspected of having affairs. Seraj said the Taliban expect her to continue looking after the women even if they do imprison them.

“Every time I talk to the Taliban, I say to them, ‘You have taken a country hostage. This isn’t going to work.’ I ask them, ‘How many people are you—300,000, 400,000, 500,000? And what’s the population of Afghanistan? Forty million. How many are women? Twenty million. How can you ignore us? What are you doing to us?’ I am saying the same thing to the world: ‘How have you allowed something like this, for heaven’s sake?’”

Seraj despairs of Afghans who have fled into exile pronouncing on what is happening in Afghanistan under the Taliban. They should come back and see what life is like for those who cannot leave, she said. “They have their own agenda, but what I see is needed in Afghanistan [is that] we really have to come up with some agreement. Talks have to start with the Taliban. It’s not going to work this way, absolutely not, if we don’t sit down and talk to them and see what is it exactly that we can do and they can do.”

Her call for engagement is controversial, but it is not new. Former British politician Rory Stewart called for diplomatic recognition in late 2021, along with the lifting of financial sanctions, to deflect the Taliban’s ideological excesses. In exchange, he wrote for the Brookings Institution, the Taliban could meet minimum human rights and governance standards. “Negotiators could push hard for crucially important goals such as: education, even if separate, for girls and women; legal rights for girls and women, and for people from minority ethnic and religious groups; equal access to food, health care, and job opportunities for all elements of society; and denying terrorists safe haven there.”

While that moment seems like a distant memory, Seraj’s suggestion of engagement comes as the United States appears to have run out of patience with the Taliban’s harsh abuses. Last week, the State Department announced expanded visa restrictions for “certain current or former Taliban members, members of non-state security groups, and other individuals believed to be responsible for, or complicit in, repressing women and girls in Afghanistan.” And at the United Nations, the United States called for a united international response to a ban on women working for nongovernmental organizations (NGOs), in response to concerns that some U.N. agencies have complied with men-only aid delivery that further exposes women to abuse.

For former lawmaker Shukria Barakzai, the sort of engagement Seraj wants would give the Taliban a free pass and entrench the impunity they’ve enjoyed so far.

“It’s time for those countries that have been engaged with the Taliban for the last few years to hold the Taliban accountable for what they are doing,” she said, referring to Pakistan, China, and Russia, among others. “Simply engaging with them gives diplomatic legitimacy to the Taliban without holding them to account. It is time for the Taliban to be held accountable for what they said during the negotiations in Doha, for what they said in the agreement, and for what they did before they were handed the country, and what they have done since. Otherwise, everything is just empty promises.”

While Taliban abuses since their return to power in the summer of 2021 are far-reaching, it’s the treatment of women that grabs the headlines. Policies of the last Taliban regime, from 1996 to 2001, have been reintroduced and the republic’s laws replaced by a hazy interpretation of Islamic sharia law. They’ve banned women from gyms, parks, and universities (even from taking university entrance exams). The Taliban have introduced restrictions against women working for NGOs—as well as in clinics and health centers if they are not accompanied by a male chaperone. Women cannot leave their homes without male chaperones to travel long distances. In some regions, women cannot run businesses or visit male doctors, and they must wear all-covering clothing. Afghanistan is the only country where girls and women are banned from education beyond primary school.

In January, U.N. officials pressed the Taliban to reverse the ban on women working for charities and attending university. They emerged from meetings saying change was coming, only for the Taliban to then issue new edicts further restricting access to education and work. Many figures of the fallen republic in exile call for retaliation and urge the United States to demand accountability in return for humanitarian relief.

The Special Inspector General for Afghanistan Reconstruction (SIGAR) went one step further in its latest report, raising questions about the impact of U.S. humanitarian relief worth more than $2 billion since the Taliban took power. “It is SIGAR’s judgment that the Taliban regime’s institutionalized abuse of women raises the important question for policymakers of whether the United States can continue providing aid to Afghanistan without benefiting or propping up the Taliban,” it said. The group is making money from aid, it said, “in the form of ‘licenses,’ ‘taxes,’ and ‘administrative fees’ imposed on NGOs and their employees as a condition for operating in Afghanistan.” Aid “may inadvertently confer legitimacy onto the Taliban, both internationally and domestically.” With more than 28 million people depending on international food assistance, “the Taliban’s erasure of women from public life has substantially hindered or prevented the provision of humanitarian aid,” it said.

Some see the focus on the abuse of women’s rights and on hunger as a diversion from the rollback of rights for all Afghans. Far from urging engagement with the Taliban, many prominent Afghans in exile say existing sanctions, mostly on the financial and banking sectors, don’t go far enough. Abdullah Khenjani, formerly a deputy minister of peace, believes food aid is being prioritized over “liberty and rights” and said the Taliban “must face the consequences of their behavior through tailored sanctions.”

“We have to find more creative methods, beyond economic sanctions and travel bans, to make the Taliban accountable,” including confiscation of assets and sanctions on family members similar to those imposed on Russian oligarchs after the invasion of Ukraine, he said. “We have to accept the fact that the ultimate goal of economic sanctions is to change the regime with minimum collateral damage on humanitarian grounds.”

For Seraj, though, doubling down on punishment is no alternative to engagement. She’s not a diplomat and doesn’t have any clear idea how to execute such a plan; all she has for now is a cri de coeur.

“We have to do it. There is no other way; we have no other choice. It should be only focused on the people of Afghanistan, on the needs of Afghanistan, on the men and women and how we can go forward. Because otherwise, Afghanistan, every single day, is moving 10 years backward,” she said.

Efforts must focus on “trying to make them sit down and have a discussion with us, with women, with the parties involved, with the stakeholders. They should sit down and talk and see what is really happening. And we should hear their side of the story, too. When we talk to the Taliban, they come up with stories of so much pain, how they were ignored, how nasty the world was toward them, how many of them got killed—which is the truth, it really is. And maybe we could take it from there.”

#I'm not sure how I fully feel about this but I did think it was worth sharing and thinking about

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sopstvena · 3 years

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Early on Sunday morning I was heading to university for a class when a group of women came running out from the women’s dormitory. I asked what had happened and one of them told me the police were evacuating them because the Taliban had arrived in Kabul, and they will beat women who do not have a burqa.

We all wanted to get home, but we couldn’t use public transport. The drivers would not let us in their cars because they did not want to take responsibility for transporting a woman. It was even worse for the women from the dormitory, who are from outside Kabul and were scared and confused about where they should go.

Meanwhile, the men standing around were making fun of girls and women, laughing at our terror. “Go and put on your chadari [burqa],” one called out. “It is your last days of being out on the streets,” said another. “I will marry four of you in one day,” said a third.

I have nearly completed two simultaneous degrees from two of the best universities in Afghanistan. I should have graduated in November from the American University of Afghanistan and Kabul University, but this morning everything flashed before my eyes.

I worked for so many days and nights to become the person I am today, and this morning when I reached home, the very first thing my sisters and I did was hide our IDs, diplomas and certificates. It was devastating. Why should we hide the things that we should be proud of? In Afghanistan now we are not allowed to be known as the people we are.

As a woman, I feel like I am the victim of this political war that men started.

[…] All I could see around me were the fearful and scared faces of women and ugly faces of men who hate women, who do not like women to get educated, work and have freedom. Most devastating to me were the ones who looked happy and made fun of women. Instead of standing by our side, they stand with the Taliban and give them even more power.

Afghan women sacrificed a lot for the little freedom they had. As an orphan I weaved carpets just to get an education. I faced a lot of financial challenges, but I had a lot of plans for my future. I did not expect everything to end up like this.

Now it looks like I have to burn everything I achieved in 24 years of my life. Having any ID card or awards from the American University is risky now; even if we keep them, we are not able to use them. There are no jobs for us in Afghanistan.

When the provinces collapsed one after another, I was thinking of my beautiful girlish dreams. My sisters and I could not sleep all night, remembering the stories my mother used to tell us about the Taliban era and the way they treated women.

I did not expect that we would be deprived of all our basic rights again and travel back to 20 years ago. That after 20 years of fighting for our rights and freedom, we should be hunting for burqas and hiding our identity.

#afghanistan #taliban #south and central asia #world news

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 3 years

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As a woman, I feel like I am the victim of this political war that men started. I felt like I can no longer laugh out loud, I can no longer listen to my favourite songs, I can no longer meet my friends in our favourite cafe, I can no longer wear my favourite yellow dress or pink lipstick. And I can no longer go to my job or finish the university degree that I worked for years to achieve.

I loved doing my nails. Today, as I was on my way home, I glanced at the beauty salon where I used to go for manicures. The shop front, which had been decorated with beautiful pictures of girls, had been whitewashed overnight.

All I could see around me were the fearful and scared faces of women and ugly faces of men who hate women, who do not like women to get educated, work and have freedom. Most devastating to me were the ones who looked happy and made fun of women. Instead of standing by our side, they stand with the Taliban and give them even more power.

During the last months, as the Taliban took control in the provinces, hundreds of people fled their houses and came to Kabul to save their girls and wives. They are living in parks or the open air. I was part of a group of American University students that tried to help them by collecting donations of cash, food and other necessities and distributing it to them.

I could not stop my tears when I heard the stories of some families. One had lost their son in the war and didn’t have any money to pay the taxi fare to Kabul, so they gave their daughter-in-law away in exchange for transportation. How can the value of a woman be equal to the cost of a journey?

Then today, when I heard that the Taliban had reached Kabul, I felt I was going to be a slave. They can play with my life any way they want.

I also worked as a teacher at an English-language education centre. I cannot bear to think that I can no longer stand in front of the class, teaching them to sing their ABCs. Every time I remember that my beautiful little girl students should stop their education and stay at their home, my tears fall.

A Kabul resident

#afghanistan #taliban #south and central asia #world news #Kabul #women #girls and women #political

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edwardkenwayisyourman · 3 years

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You are not ingenuous.

All of you living in a first world western country who just started posting about the suffering of afghan women,you are not ingenious. You are not sincere.

What is happening is nothing new. Women being ripped away from their freedom,their rights,women being trapped in darkness,enslaved by horrible men is nothing new. You just "started to care". Or you look like you care because it is the hot topic right now. After a month you will forget about them and after some months you will start making excuses for stop caring about afghan women. You will probably say "Some women like to live under their men's shadows,and it is okay." You will probably read Wikipedia articles about the wonders of islam to a muslim woman who rants about her country. You will probably say "If she didn't want to wear hijab she should've move to another country" when you see a women getting executed for taking her hijab off in public. You will celebrate "World Hijab Day" after some months and shame the women who celebrates "No Hijab Day" and even lie about No Hijab Day,throw dirt on No Hijab Day.

Just

You

Did

Before

People are sharing posts that they could not share a month ago on this platform. Like this:

Or this

These kind of posts were anon hate guaranteed. You would receive anon hates from people who would call you islamophobic. "How dare you show burqa as a bad thing. It empowers women!" You would not be allowed to explain how majority of muslim women are forced to wear hijab,because "they were the smallest amount of muslim women and do not represent the majority". Eventhough majority of muslim women are forced to wear some sort of veil. Not just in Taliban occupied Afghanistan.

What changed? Why it was unacceptable to post about the bad experiences women live with burqa a week ago but not now?

You didn't care when she got arrested.

You didn't care.

You are not ingenuous.

You are just following a trend.

Our freedom and rights are not a trend. If you actually care about muslim women's rights,turns your faces to the East. Because Afghan women are dying. Persian women are dying. Saudi women are dying. Iraqi women are dying. Pakistani women are dying.

We are not a tear jerk. We are women. Our rights are not a trend.

#afghanistan #afghan women #afghan people #afghan #women's rights #international women's day #misogny #no hijab day #burqa

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girlactionfigure · 3 years

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Israelis spirit vulnerable Afghans from Taliban-led country

Secretive collaborative effort leads to safe evacuation of judges, singers, activists, journalists, scientists and cyclists from the beleaguered country.

Israeli activists, philanthropists and aid workers have helped rescued 125 Afghans at risk from Taliban retribution in a complex and hush hush operation that happened earlier this month.

The Afghans, which include judges, human rights activities, journalists, TV presenters, scientist, artists, diplomats, artists and even cyclists, arrived in Albania on October 2nd, after being evacuated from Afghanistan to a neighboring country.

The operation took weeks to arrange and was a collaborative effort by the governments of the United Arab Emirates and Albania, activists and donors including businessman and philanthropist Sylvan Adams.

The effort was facilitated by non-profit Israeli humanitarian aid organization IsraAID, which offers disaster response in the wake of natural and man-made crises all over the world, and which has been helping refugees from all over the world for many years.

This was the second evacuation of vulnerable people from Afghanistan that the group has coordinated since the Taliban overran Kabul on August 15 and seized control of the troubled country.

On September 6, 42 women, girls and family members were spirited out of the country to the United Arab Emirates.

The rescued girls on their way to the United Arab Emirates. Photo by Boaz Arad/IsraAID

IsraAID’s CEO, Yotam Polizer, who took part in the mission said the last few weeks of negotiations were intense and difficult, and the situation was constantly changing, with new plans being made on an almost daily basis.

“We are delighted to be able to say that our main focus now is on ensuring the evacuees have everything they need while they begin the process of building new lives for themselves,” he said. “We are committed to supporting both of these groups for the long-term.”

IsraAID CEO Yotam Polizer oversees as evacuees board the flight to Albania. Photo by Boaz Arad/IsraAID

“What we did in this operation to extract and resettle these Afghan women was simply practicing the ancient Jewish cultural imperative of ‘Tikkun Olam’, which means improving our world,” said Israeli-Canadian Adams.

The people evacuated are considered particularly vulnerable under Taliban’s harsh and violent rule, and many of the women and girls were symbols of female empowerment and leadership in Afghanistan in the pre-Taliban days.

After escaping the country, they were granted safe passage through a neighboring country to the UAE and Albania, before long-term resettlement in countries including Canada, France, and Switzerland.

IsraAID has also launched an initial needs assessment mission to Albania, where the group of 125 evacuees join more than 1,000 Afghan refugees currently in the country. IsraAID’s team will assess access to crucial services and plan to provide ongoing assistance to Afghan refugees while they stay in Albania.

The mission to save Afghan nationals was the initiative of Israeli journalist Danna Harman, who gathered a group of friends to try to rescue the Afghans.

“If there is a bright spot in the story of Afghanistan’s latest crisis, it would be how many regular people, Afghans and those who care about Afghanistan alike, came together to respond to calls for help,” said Harman.

“None of us know what life in Afghanistan will look like now, and it is not for us to judge who is in graver or lesser danger. But, I believe, it behooves us all to listen to and respect anyone’s cry for help, and, moreover, if we can, reach out our hands to assist.”

Others involved in the rescue mission included international NGO Team Humanity, an anonymous family foundation, Chairman of the Euro Asian Jewish Congress Aaron G. Frenkel, Honorary President of the Euro Asian Jewish Congress Alexander Mashkevich, The Centre for Israel and Jewish Affairs, Union Cycliste Internationale President David Lappartient, and Len Blavatnik.

“We would like to thank the governments of Albania and UAE for their hospitality and willingness to provide safe passage to these vulnerable people out of Afghanistan, and to the governments worldwide who have prioritized them for resettlement,” said Polizer.

Israel21c

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deborahdeshoftim5779 · 3 years

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A monster America made but can't tame Turn on the BBC and you are certain to hear some voice urging that we 'stay' in Afghanistan or return there. By 'we', of course, they mean the poor bloody infantry, the people who always end up fulfilling the ideals of political blowhards. Look, our Empire collapsed in bankruptcy more than 70 years ago. We have no more business in Afghanistan than do the Austrians or the Poles. Nor would we do any good if we returned. That poor country has done nothing but suffer at the hands of meddling outsiders. It was attacked in 2001 because the USA did not dare name or attack the country that was really the origin of the September 11 attacks, and still doesn't. You'll have to wait, or guess, too – the reports remain sealed, though the CIA and White House know what's in them. I don't much like the Taliban either. But sending young men from de-industrialised cities in Britain and North America to be killed, or have limbs blown off, so Cherie Blair, Hillary Clinton and the rest of the sisterhood can feel good about the treatment of women in Kandahar seems out of proportion. If Afghanistan now falls into the hands of non-feminists, it is largely because the USA, in a piece of cynical mischief unmatched in modern history, colluded there with Saudi Arabia to help Islamist mujahideen against the USSR in the 1980s. They created a monster they couldn't control, destroy or defeat. As for those Afghans we now leave to the mercy of the fanatics, our leaders surely knew this would happen in the end. It's another illustration of the old rule: don't make promises you cannot keep. When you do, don't make other people keep them for you.

Peter Hitchens, writing in the Mail on Sunday, explaining why the Taliban have taken back control of Afghanistan and the folly of this war from the beginning. The Taliban have control, because they have support. Evidently, all of our billions, weaponry, and soldiers mean nothing to them. Women’s rights are not a good reason to continue this unwinnable, pointless war. We should accept defeat and learn our lesson.

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renardtrickster · 3 years

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How is society changing for the better? I don't see any improvement yet.

The second sentence almost makes this sound like a meme but I'm going to answer like this is serious and in good faith. I'm also going to "I'm American and this is how I think things are going in America, translate and adapt to suit your country's reality" you.

You have to look at the past to see what improvements and changes have already happened. The past was worse in almost every conceivable way. When you look at women's rights, when you look at men's advocacy, when you look at racial injustices and rights, when you look at LGBT+ recognition/advocacy/awareness, technologically, socially, environmentally, etc. Nowadays, there's still a lot of issues, both new and old yet unresolved, but we're aware of them (step one to solving a problem is recognizing the problem). People talk about how things were simpler back then, or how the problems were less bad back then, but the truth is that they always had problems, they were just either unaware, ignored them, or were conditioned not to acknowledge them. There's a lot of modern marvels we have like the complete lack of barriers for communication and friendship-forging in the digital age, or that we have the power to give people robot arms and fix vision with lasers, but the fact that we have the awareness to see problems and the drive to fix it is the biggest and most important one. Especially because once the blinds have been opened, it's extremely difficult to close them.

Now that you've looked at the past to put the present into perspective, the present has indicators for how the future could go. We know all the issues going on in society, hundreds of thousands of people have recognized them, and it's effectively impossible to make them forget. Everyone's been forced to acknowledge the topic of racial injustice. The fight over trans rights has made every normie have to know what that is. Climate and environmental issues are scientific fact and denying it is kind of like denying Round Earth at this point. And I'm not going to sugarcoat it, there's a lot of bad. We had an attempted insurrection. The Taliban have effectively taken over Afghanistan after America dicked around for two decades. And on all the issues I mentioned above, there is a great many people who are fighting tooth and nail for their right to make the world a worse place for everyone, including themselves.

But the positive part is, looking at the past, you get a feeling for how the future will go. Several of these bad events have been predicted, and apparently people were predicting the American Civil War sixty years before it happened. But one can also make a prediction for a positive event. As I said before, the past was infinitely worse in numerous ways, but progress has been made, and is still being made. The boulder has been rolling down the hill for decades. And while it’s hit several bumps, it isn’t stopping. The fight for racial justice and for trans rights, are still going on and the “pro” side is the more popular one. And economic equality and climate change and various things are in the road. The only ways I see the boulder stopping is by clogging the path full of blood and bodies (which is impossible due to that requiring an amount of bloodshed so large that it’s like saying “society will become worse if wizards cast a spell to make it worse") or if all of the individual pebbles composing this boulder lose morale and decide that reaching the end of the hill is impossible, so they allow themselves to lose momentum on a flat part, inviting anyone that wants to put the boulder back up to do as they please. Which is a very important point to stress. Progress and regress are fighting all the time. I highly doubt that regress will ever concede or give up. They merely accept their losses and try to push back on the new issue, and once that’s done they’ll go back to the old ones. Progress giving up spells a win for regress and another step for a worse world.

I don’t have any hard numbers on society getting better, but I have this advice and this encouragement. Do with it as you will, but don’t let the boulder stop rolling.

#did i mostly make sense?#ask and receive

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red-arrowe · 3 years

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Then today, when I heard that the Taliban had reached Kabul, I felt I was going to be a slave. They can play with my life any way they want.

#afghanistan #taliban #south and central asia #world news

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lily28s · 3 years

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I will never support the taliban

I once listened to a man lecture me on why he supports the taliban that all they were doing was spreading the message of Islam. that they stayed calm and gentle even in the face of hatred. He criticized me for speaking about it when I didn't "personally know any afghans"

Excuse me this is the same taliban that shot Malala Yousafzai in the head for insisting to go to school, the same taliban that prevents women and girls from going to school, and even step outside their homes, the same taliban that forces their women to wear burqas against their will (while I am not the burqa itself, and never have been I will forever be against being FORCED as that is a direct human rights violation)

It crushes me to see other muslims supporting them when they violate and misuse the name of Islam on so many levels, it crushes me that they don't support the right to education when the founder of the first standing public university was Fatima al Fihri, a muslim woman. When the greatest scholar of Islam was Muhammad's wife Aisha bint Abi Bakr.

Afghanistan, like many other countries in the middle east, Egypt, Syria, Iran, Iraq used to be beautiful, prosperous, and free, not even 100 years ago. even Somalia was a major trade in East Africa for many many years, the middle east wasn't always the war torn violence stricken place we all think of today, and then the islamic revolution happened and terrorists and tyranical governments decided to take over, and the US intervened and started killing not just terrorists but also civilians. (And yes I realize that this is grossly over simplified, but the point is, it wasn't always like this)

I haven't been talking about this as much as I've wanted to because I simply just didn't know how to put the words together, but now I do.

It's essential that we as Muslims stand against the actions and the obvious human rights abuses, of the taliban like we constantly try to distance ourselves from ISIS and Al Qaeda (as we should) If you care about girls and women but more importantly, humanity, you should care about Afghanistan.

Please watch the Afghanistan chapter from girl rising (the monologue at the end is amazing, I've been trying to memorize it) to find out what has been going on for quite some time. Also look at Cut's 100 years of beauty for muslim majority countries.

youtube

#Afghanistan #pray for afghanistan #stop killing afghans #taliban #Youtube

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halsteadpd · 3 years

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The Beginning: Part 2

Part 1

A/N: First of all, I am so sorry to everyone who got like 10 emails alerting them that I posted a story-I have no idea what happened! I had to turn off all my Fanfiction email notifications because anytime someone followed/favourited/reviewed I would get at least 15 emails telling me about it. On that note, for those of you who did give me some love, THANK YOU! It definitely helps keep the momentum going when writing. Anyway, enjoy. Hopefully there isn't a thousand emails again.

There is TW in the tags.

XXXXXXX

Jay has been in Afghanistan for a few months now. Tensions between the army and locals/terrorists are rising. Reinforcements arrive weekly as the firefights increase—men and women are dying often and if the army wants to keep their hold on the Taliban, new soldiers will continue to arrive. Every night there's a series of bombings nearby that keeps the army on their toes; sometimes the shells come close enough that they can feel the wind emanating from the explosion.

There's an upcoming high stakes recon mission that Jay and his crew have been preparing for. There's word of a village that's being quietly transformed into a second HQ—something closer to the army base so the Afghans can keep an eye on the soldiers and their activity. They first found out while locals were gossiping about the Taliban moving in—their translator had picked it up during a separate operation.

The busy schedule was a welcome distraction to Jay. He hasn't had time to think about Ava and in the rare occurrences when his mind does wander, he is surprised that he forgot about her for so long. Obviously he still wishes all the best for her, but the fact that she walked out on him still hurts. He doesn't get any letters like he did during his first tour; seeing his buddies get pictures and words of encouragement from home is probably what hurts most.

It reminds him he's all alone in the world and if he were to die, they wouldn't have anyone to tell.

Jay rolls over in his bed—the mattress creaking underneath his weight. His colleagues are all asleep around him and he knows he too should seek peace. Tomorrow evening is when they set out on their mission; one they had been anticipating since the beginning of the war. If all went in their favour, they would be crippling a central piece to the Taliban and how they operate.

The sky is clear and from his bed, Jay can see the countless stars littering the sky. It's on nights like these that make him feel like he's just a small speck of dust floating through the universe; it makes all his problems seem so small and obsolete. His day job is also a good reminder of all the good things he's had in his life; he never had to experience a war until he signed up for it.

Turning onto his back, he blows out a breath of air before further relaxing into his cot and falling asleep.

The next day, the base was bustling. As a decoy, teams were still sent out on their respective recon missions in case anyone from the enemy lines was spying on them. Most of the soldiers on base were helping prepare for the real assignment that would be taking place later at 1800 hours. They needed to make sure they had enough ammunition should something go sideways.

Jay sat on his bunk polishing his gun, ensuring that everything would go smoothly and that his gun would be ready for combat. The last thing he needed was his gun jamming—in country it was the only thing that kept him and his friends alive.

As teams returned from their respective operations, the energy of the base increased. There was a combination of excitement and anxiety; they didn't want to get too excited in case of a failed mission; there was also the risk of losing people on their side. After dinner, the three groups that would be going into the village prepared their equipment. Nobody spoke and the only noise came from equipment being stacked and guns being loaded.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

The teams quietly made their way towards the outskirts of the village and regrouped before rushing in; a surprise invasion is the only way to catch those inside off guard. It also prevents casualties on their side. Screams of women and children reverberated against Jay's ears as his team began to clear out the first house closest to them.

"I've got a mother and three children in here!" One of his group members yelled out, alerting his squad of the civilians. He gathered them in a corner while the rest of the team cleared the home.

"The rest is empty!" Jay called back as his team finished sweeping the home. "Let's move."

His team stayed along the side of the home—using it as a shield—as the other two groups finished clearing their areas. They kept an eye on rooftops nearby, looking for any sign of unusual movement.

"Move forward!" The commander called out as everyone regrouped and Jay's team stealthily made it to the wall of the next home.

"Breach!" As soon as the team stormed into the home, bullets began to fly from both inside and outside of the home—they no longer had adequate cover. Jay could hear the guttural moans of one of his friends over the sound of bullets flying as another was crying out as he attempted to stop the bleeding. Quickly, they all rushed into the hut—their guns going off in quick succession at the enemy.

With efficiency and prowess, the group cleared the rest of the house and took cover against a wall while the other two groups focused on the attack going on outside. They were trapped for now.

Jay looked down at the now lifeless body of his teammate—he had been shot in the throat and blood continued to ooze out of the wound that was no longer being covered. Another called for immediate backup from base while bullets continued to lodge themselves into the exterior walls of the home. The only thing the soldiers could do was lie against the concrete wall and hope for help to arrive soon.

As Jay rested against his shoulder against the wall, he took in the scene in front of him. Six children, two women, and three men were dead. There was blood all over the floor which was consequently smeared throughout the home from their boots. The smell of blood was in the air and Jay gagged slightly, not having any fresh air to breathe.

All he could do was wish for backup to arrive quickly so he could get out of there.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

It was early the next morning by the time the US Army had the upper hand against the terrorists. The sun was beginning to rise and the smell of gunpowder, smoke, and iron remained in the air.

The village had been freed from a Taliban hold but the night had been long and full of firefight. Those who made it through the darkest hours were lucky to be alive. The sight of the area they currently occupied was a mess. Those who lived there were trying to make sense of what had happened all night—Jay wasn't even sure he knew either.

The army wasn't expecting an ambush; they thought they had the advantage since they acted so quickly. Evidently the Taliban were already stationed in the village.

The number of deceased were currently unconfirmed but based on the sound of women and children still crying, there were many. Jay couldn't bear to watch a toddler covered in blood, screaming out for his mother. Unfortunately that toddler wasn't the only one who lost someone the night prior.

Three were confirmed to be dead on the US side and were currently laid on the ground under white blankets. The bodies would be loaded into the trucks whenever the group would leave and return to base. Soon they'll be put into coffins with an American flag tied snug on top.

It's days like these when Jay really appreciates his life, because that could have easily been him lying on the ground instead. He remembers his first tour—the firefights would always scare him because he would be flirting with death. But now, he didn't have anyone to go home to; nobody cared whether or not he would make it out alive.

He wished it was him instead.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Erin quickly made her way into her office and placed all her paperwork on her desk. She was running late this morning and needed to leave right away if she wanted to make it on time to the press conference. She double checked that she had everything she needed before rushing out of her office.

Journalism is a subject that Erin was always intrigued with. She loved watching news anchors argue and debate with individuals they brought onto the show—she always wanted to be one of them. Even now her days are surrounded with interviewing and investigating during the day and pouring over the news in the evening.

Currently, she's advocating about how the war in Afghanistan is only a way for the President and his friends to fill their pockets; soldiers are dying at the hands of American politicians. She's been reprimanded by her boss multiple times for asking the President "inappropriate questions" but frankly, she doesn't care. She's trying to bring light to an issue that she believes is important—this is exactly why she became a journalist.

Erin makes it just in time to the White House Presser and quickly gets out her recorder and list of questions. She makes notes of others' questions in case she needed to follow up with the President about his answers. Often, pursuing a question that others are uncomfortable with is what gives journalists popularity; she knows this feeling well since she's often trending on Twitter.

A few of the other reporters ask their questions before she gets picked to ask hers. "Mr. President reports came out this week of the US Army being ambushed during a recon mission in Afghanistan that resulted in three dead soldiers, do you feel any remorse for sending these men and women into a war that could have been avoided?"

"Listen, you've asked questions similar to this before Ms. Lindsay. I will reiterate what I've said in the past. The brave men and women in our military are the reason why we live in a free country and get to live our lives. The whole point of them being stationed in war torn countries like Iraq and Afghanistan is strictly for peace keeping business. There are women and children in these countries that have seen nothing but war in the last few years and our military will ensure peace as soon as they can. Next question."

Erin rolled her eyes as the next journalist began asking his question. Many people knew that the military wasn't sent in for peace keeping purposes. Many of the politicians in the U.S. were crooked and war was an easy pay day for them. It didn't matter to them that people were dying daily on both sides—unnecessary deaths. More money was allocated towards war than anything else. Erin thought many of the millions could instead be used domestically to ensure Americans had basic healthcare, had enough food to eat, and had a roof over their heads.

But apparently that was too much to ask for.

She sat through the rest of the presser quietly and quickly left the building when she got a second. She was sure her boss would be waiting for her when she returned to the office—he had ordered her to ask "more journalism questions" instead of constant questions of the war. It was as if everyone was against Erin and her advocacy.

As soon as she entered her building, she was ushered to her boss' office by his assistant. She flopped down onto the chair across from him and took in his unamused expression.

"How can I be of service?" Erin asked, a small smile on her lips.

"You know exactly what you're here for. I asked you to stop asking about the war." He spat back.

"Look, I'm just doing my job, okay? Americans are dying and people need to know!" Erin retorted.

"I understand that, but the President is getting annoyed. There's a lot of negative attention on us because of your actions."

"Are you really that shallow that you can't see past yourself and this company?" Erin asked, her voice dropping low. "Nobody here knows what's going on over there! Why are so many of them dying? We deserve to know. This is taxpayer money being used for war!"

"Okay, fine. I understand what you're saying." He blew out a breath. "How about I offer you an alternative position for the time being? It'll be three months, max. It's right in your wheelhouse. We've been talking about this for a few weeks now and I think you'll like it."

"I'm listening…" Erin drawled out, clearly intrigued.

"How about you cover the war in Afghanistan?"

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Please leave me a review!

#TW: war #TW: blood #linstead #linstead au #linstead fanfiction #one chicago #chicago pd #chicago pd au #chicago pd fanfiction #one chicago au #one chicago fanfiction #linstead fanfic #chicago pd fanfic #one chicago fanfic #jay halstead #erin lindsay #Jesse Lee Soffer #sophia bush

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scarfcollection · 3 years

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By: A Kabul resident

Sun 15 Aug 2021 20.22 BST

With the government offices closed down, my sister ran for miles across town to get home. “I shut down the PC that helped to serve my people and community for four years with a lot of pain,” she said. “I left my desk with tearful eyes and said goodbye to my colleagues. I knew it was the last day of my job.”I have nearly completed two simultaneous degrees from two of the best universities in Afghanistan. I should have graduated in November from the American University of Afghanistan and Kabul University, but this morning everything flashed before my eyes.I worked for so many days and nights to become the person I am today, and this morning when I reached home, the very first thing my sisters and I did was hide our IDs, diplomas and certificates. It was devastating. Why should we hide the things that we should be proud of? In Afghanistan now we are not allowed to be known as the people we are.As a woman, I feel like I am the victim of this political war that men started. I felt like I can no longer laugh out loud, I can no longer listen to my favourite songs, I can no longer meet my friends in our favourite cafe, I can no longer wear my favourite yellow dress or pink lipstick. And I can no longer go to my job or finish the university degree that I worked for years to achieve.I loved doing my nails. Today, as I was on my way home, I glanced at the beauty salon where I used to go for manicures. The shop front, which had been decorated with beautiful pictures of girls, had been whitewashed overnight.

Then today, when I heard that the Taliban had reached Kabul, I felt I was going to be a slave. They can play with my life any way they want.

#afghanistan #taliban #south and central asia #world news #toxic masculinity

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elsanna-shenanigans · 3 years

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December Contest Submission #22: All the Way

words: ca. 3700 setting: mAU lemon: no cw: violence, blood and gore, knives, firearms, assault, graphic bodily harm, minor character deaths, violence as a turn on

Note: This story is disqualified from the contest and will not be included in the poll as it is not eligible to be voted on. Reason of DQ: failed to meet the obligatory restriction for the month (no murder)

Anna carefully placed her rucksack on its stand near the front door of the apartment. Despite her honorable discharge a few months ago, some things never changed, like her habit of stowing her gear properly as soon as she came home.

She’d traded MREs and her rifle for textbooks and a tour of duty in graduate school, having retired from the Army after two tours of duty in Kandahar but still woke up out of habit every morning at 5 AM to run a few miles wearing the rucksack and its 20 pound iron plate.

Before the Army, she had been hilariously clumsy, crashing into all sorts of things. Years of sneaking into hostile places in the middle of the desert had largely cured her of her clumsiness, though she did still manage to rarely stumble over completely flat floor. Her excuse was that the burning deserts of Afghanistan were rarely ever flat floor. Anna made liberal use of her infiltration skills she’d learned in Ranger school, slipping in as quietly as she could to avoid waking her sister.

Her sister was a notoriously light sleeper, Elsa’s anxiety constantly prodding the edge of her consciousness. After Anna had been discharged, she’d moved in with her sister while she figured out what she wanted to do with her life after the military. Her presence, especially in their shared bed, had helped Elsa’s anxiety settle down a little.

Anna smiled to herself, thinking of her sister. Elsa was one of the most brilliant people she knew. Three years older than her, Elsa was 27 and a Ph.D. in cryogenics, studying the reactivity of different materials under extreme cold. She’d already been scouted by several large corporations, but had turned them down as she was close to earning her own lab at Arendelle University.

When they were growing up, Anna had idolized her big sister, but it wasn’t until her first week in boot camp when she realized she loved Elsa in more ways than one - she liked women, and the women she’d taken to bed around the world had always been thin, pale-haired blondes. A few weeks after moving in with Elsa, she’d discovered her sister had similar proclivities, most recently having dated a couple of redheads. One night after a few drinks, they’d confessed that who they were really looking for was each other.

As Anna crept through the apartment, her instincts twigged. Something wasn’t right; the noises in their apartment were off somehow. Elsa wasn’t a loud sleeper by any means, but she did quietly snore from time to time. This silence was off, was wrong, like the eerie silence of the desert when a large predator was roaming.

Then she heard it. A muffled sound, the sound of struggle. Anna knew THAT sound all too well, the sound of someone held prisoner. She’d heard it in hovel after hovel, kicking in doors in the remote villages far from the city and finding Taliban insurgents holding locals prisoner. She made her way to the kitchen and grabbed the 10-inch chef’s knife silently from the knife rack.

As approached the bedroom, she heard the quiet sound of someone dialing a phone. She looked through the antique keyhole in the door to see a man standing over the bed in black fatigues, holding his smartphone. Her sister appeared to be tied up and gagged with duct tape, but otherwise looked fully dressed and unharmed.

She appraised the man one more time. Five foot nine inches tall or thereabouts. Black webbing holster with some model of Glock pistol in it, but the retention guard was on, so he wouldn’t be able to fast-draw it. He must have taken Elsa by surprise and not needed the weapon. Muscular, but she couldn’t make any other details out besides that.

The intruder turned his back, walking to the window as he held the phone up to his ear. “Boss,” he said, his voice low but definitely masculine, “It’s done. I’ve got the package, ready for pickup.” The man nodded, getting instructions over the phone. “Yeah, no troubles. Okay, 15 minutes, copy that. There’s a service entrance to the apartment building in the back, park the car there. Apartment 213. Yeah, it’s open. Okay. Yeah, have the money ready when I get there. Yup.”

The man hung up the call and stared out the window, then foolishly began to play some game on his phone. He clearly regarded Elsa as no threat to him.

Anna weighed her options before creeping back to the kitchen and grabbing the honing steel from the knife rack. She needed this guy alive to figure out what was happening. Anna made her way back to the bedroom, peeked in the lock once more, and found the man playing his video game.

She made her move, opening the door swiftly while flinging the honing steel at his head. She threw perfectly, the impact blinding him as she advanced on his position. As he shouted in pain, she slammed a sharp kick into his knee, shattering the ligaments with her heel and folding his knee inward. The attacker fell to the floor, Anna bringing the chef’s knife to his throat.

“Who are you and what do you want with my sister?” she hissed as she pressed the blade against his throat while removing his pistol from him. She held the Glock in one hand, weighing it mentally.

“Fuck you!” he snarled back, holding his crippled leg.

She stepped back, putting the knife on the nightstand as she flipped the safety off the pistol and aimed it at him. “Last chance, asshole, unless you want to be perforated. Spill.”

“I’m not telling you anything, bitch!”

Anna rolled her eyes, then closed the distance to the attacker and pistol-whipped him, knocking him unconscious. She rifled through his pockets, extracting the smartphone and a wallet. The electrical tape he’d bound Elsa with was on his Sam Brown belt, and she returned the favor, binding him carefully.

Satisfied that he was going nowhere, Anna turned her attention to Elsa, who was laying in the fetal position on the bed, eyes wide with terror. “Hold still, sis, and I’ll get you out of this okay?” she reassured, as Elsa mutely nodded. Anna took the knife and carefully cut Elsa’s restraints. Her sister burst into sobs and flung her arms around Anna’s neck.

“Anna! Thank god, I was so scared! Thank you, thank you,” she cried as she pressed kiss after kiss against Anna’s cheek and neck.

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay, I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” she soothed, kissing her sister on the lips and gently stroking her hair. After a few moments, Elsa’s cries subsided. “So… what happened, Elsa? Do you know this guy at all?”

Elsa shook her head. “I have absolutely no idea. I was sleeping, and next thing I know, he’s pointing a gun at me and telling me if I make a sound, he’ll shoot me,” she said, shivering. “Then he… he…” she stuttered.

“He tied you up with the tape,” Anna said quietly.

Elsa nodded. “I thought… I thought for sure he was going- going to-”

“I know, honey,” Anna comforted her. “Thank goodness he apparently had other plans. He was going to kidnap you, but I’m guessing you have no idea why.”

“No, not at all. Who would go to all this trouble for a nerdy girl like me?” Elsa shook her head in bewilderment.

Anna looked at her watch before kissing Elsa on the forehead. “I don’t know, sis. Well, I would, but that’s different. Anyway, the bad guys will be here in… I think probably about 10 minutes, based on what he said on the phone. Help me drag him into the closet so he’s out of our way.”

The sisters took the man’s unconscious body and tossed him unceremoniously in the walk-in closet. Anna inspected the electrical tape one last time, satisfied that he’d have to dislocate multiple joints to escape, then rifled through his pockets to find his wallet and phone. The driver’s license said his name was Hans Westergaard.

“Elsa, I’m guessing that whoever is on the way will give us a clue as to what the hell is going on here. That said, I don’t want you to get hurt so… why don’t you go to…” Anna pondered quickly. Whoever wanted Elsa kidnapped probably knew who she was, so sending her out of the building could be disastrous. “Lay down in the bathtub, Elsa.”

Elsa looked at her sister, confused. “The bathtub? Why?”

“It’s solid iron. This dude Hans had a gun, so whoever’s on their way probably is carrying, too. I don’t want you getting shot by accident if things go south, and the tub will keep you safe,” she said with a smile. Part of the charm of their apartment was the massive cast-iron clawfoot tub, big enough to hold them both - a pastime they enjoyed liberally, often together.

“All right,” Elsa said, walking to the bathroom. “What about you? Shouldn’t you get in here too?”

Anna smirked as she tied her ponytail into a tight braid to keep her red hair out of her eyes. “No. I’m going to get some answers about what’s going on.” She changed out of her jogging shorts and shirt into her old fatigues.

“Anna, it’s too danger-”

Anna arched her eyebrow at her sister, who promptly stopped speaking.

“Okay, okay, miss Green Beret sister of mine,” Elsa smiled weakly as she ducked her head back into the bathroom.

“Ranger! They’re different, Elsa, I keep telling you that,” Anna said with a giggle. Her sister was a genius in some ways, but the epitome of the absent-minded professor. “Now shoo, I’ve got to get ready. They’ll be here in a few minutes. And Elsa?”

“Hmm?” her sister’s voice echoed from inside the tub.

“Call 911 and get the police on their way.”

Anna walked back into the bedroom and quickly inspected the gun she’d seized from Hans, a Glock 17 with an extended magazine and a noise suppressor. She popped the magazine out and inspected the rounds. Jacketed 9 millimeter hollowpoints, she thought, this guy was loaded for bear. She opened the nightstand drawer and pulled out her own Beretta 92F, the civilian counterpart to the pistol she carried on active duty, affixing the holster to the small of her back. Whoever was coming to take her sister was in for a rude surprise.

She locked the front door and hid in the kitchen, waiting for the assailants to arrive. They wouldn’t be expecting a fight, so she had surprise on her side for the moment, and Elsa was safe in the bathtub. Anna took a few centering deep breaths, preparing herself for the confrontation. She heard building elevator ding on their floor and the sound of feet walking down the corridor.

A lot of feet.

Anna closed her eyes and listened carefully, trying to count the different footfalls. She guessed ten… no, twelve different people in the hall. Shit, she thought, who sends 12 guys to pick up one person? What, are they like his 12 brothers or something?

She looked at her sidearms. The Glock held 22 rounds with its extended magazine. Hers held 15. She’d have to make every shot count, if it came to that. I miss my old service rifle, she lamented. Anna checked her watch; if Elsa had called, the police should be arriving within a minute or two. She opted to start with the largest magazine first, keeping her sidearm in its holster.

The men were at the door, jiggling the handle. She heard muffled voices on the other side. “Stupid little shit said it was unlocked.” The lead man started knocking on the door. “Hans! You locked the door, you dumbass! Open up!”

A solid minute passed as the voices in the hallway grew more agitated, the knocking more insistent on the door. Anna heard police sirens in the distance. Cavalry’s on the way, she breathed. Just have to wait them out another couple of minutes. Beads of sweat began to form on her forehead as she remained hunched down.

She didn’t get her couple of minutes. With a loud crack, the lead attacker put his shoulder into the door, the doorframe beginning to crack and splinter. Anna considered her options; the kitchen had line of sight to the living room, and Elsa was safely out of the line of fire if she stayed where she was, but she would have almost no escape route if things went south.

Bottleneck, she thought. Stop them as they come through the door and they’re bottlenecked. The police sirens grew closer as the doorframe creaked under the strain. One more solid shove and they’d be through.

The first intruder came through the door and Anna shot him through the upper thigh, immediately causing him to fall to the floor in pain and present a stumbling hazard to the rest. The second person through, she shot in the center of mass and he fell backwards, but didn’t drop. Shit, they must have body armor, she swore to herself.

By now the men were screaming and scrambling to fight their unseen attacker. Another dropped, shot in the back by one of his careless compatriots trying to draw their weapon. Two rounds went far over her head as the chaos intensified and the attackers started shooting wildly. She edged around the kitchen counter and dropped a fourth man before ducking back under cover.

Bullets struck the refrigerator and stove, shattered one of the kitchen windows, and threw chips of marble from hitting the counters as the men shot in every direction. A small fire started on the stovetop from one of the rounds hitting a burner. Anna counted as they each kept pulling their triggers with no discipline. Amateurs, she muttered to herself. No trigger discipline.

A brief lull indicated they’d expended their magazines and needed to reload. At that moment, Anna rose over the kitchen counter and took down another three with clean headshots. Six down, six left. More incoming fire chewed up the kitchen walls, but Anna was reasonably safe behind the center island, its bulk and built-in appliances more than enough protection.

After another few moments of the attackers spraying the kitchen down and needing to reload, she rose up and shot another four. A fifth one accidentally shot himself in the foot reloading, screaming and rolling around on the ground. That left one.

A muffled scream sounded from the bathroom, followed by the sounds of struggle. A gruff voice echoed from the hallway. “Okay asshole, come on out with your hands up or the bitch gets it!”

Anna crawled on her stomach across the rubble of the kitchen and around the other side of the center island. She glimpsed the attacker, one arm around Elsa’s neck with his Glock pointed at her head. Damn, I have no shot from here. Elsa frantically grabbed at the attacker’s arm around her throat, her favorite blue silk gloves clawing at him.

Anna looked at all her options and they all sucked. She didn’t have a clean shot of any kind without putting her sister at substantial risk.

The lone remaining attacker reiterated his demands. “I mean it, bitch. Throw your gun out here and come out with your hands up!”

“All right, all right. I’m coming out. Don’t hurt her,” Anna declared, throwing the Glock to the side as she formulated her plan. The firearm clattered across the floor and slid into the wall. As Anna stood, time felt like it slowed down.

The attacker started to point the gun towards Anna, intending to shoot her as she surrendered, when he screamed in pain. The arm around Elsa’s neck turned blue, and a wave of ice began creeping over his flesh as his body began to freeze. Elsa’s fingers were glowing white and blue, a determined look on her face as she held on tight to the attacker.

Anna saw the motion of the attacker’s arm go wide as pain seized his body. She pulled her sidearm from its holster and took her best shot. Just as the bullet reached his face, his head froze completely and the impact shattered it into thousands of icy shards. Elsa ducked forward, and the attacker’s frozen body toppled over, the rest of it disintegrating as it hit the floor.

Elsa fell over, sobbing as Anna ran to her, laying her gun on the couch and scooping her up in her arms. “It’s okay, Elsa. It’s okay. You’re safe. It’s over,” she hugged her sister, noticing how cold to the touch she was. “What… what happened there, Elsa? I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

“It- it-” Elsa started, stammering.

“Police! Nobody move!” came a shout from the front door. Four Arendelle uniformed officers stormed in, guns drawn. Both sisters immediately raised their hands. The first officer shouted over his shoulder. “Sarge! We got two civilians and a shit load of bodies in here!”

A blond man dressed in an ill-fitting suit came in behind the uniformed police, his gun drawn as well. He surveyed the situation and gave a low whistle. “What… the fuck happened here? Who did this?”

“I did,” Anna said, standing up slowly, holding Elsa’s arms, “… Detective…?”

“Bjorgman. You did this? You’ll have to excuse me, but you don’t look the…” he paused as his eyes took in the rest of the apartment, noting Anna’s gear at the door, the small, tasteful display case of her service ribbons and medals, and a tan beret framed on the wall. “75th?” he asked, hesitant.

“Rangers lead the way, Detective.”

“All the way,” he automatically responded, saluting.

Anna breathed a sigh of relief. The police detective knew she was one of the good guys, answering her Ranger slogan as only other Army soldiers would know. That would doubtlessly make the questioning they’d face much easier.

Elsa shivered in her arms, still freezing. “Hey,” she whispered in Elsa’s ear, “just stay close to me, okay? I’ll keep you warm.” She turned back to the detective. “I’m guessing you have some questions?” she smiled with a lopsided grin.

“Just a few…”

Nearly 12 hours later, the sisters decompressed in their hotel room. They’d spent the day at the Arendelle police department, giving testimony and evidence. They wouldn’t be allowed back in their apartment until the forensics teams finished gathering evidence; Hans was in custody as the sole surviving son of what was apparently one of Arendelle’s more notorious crime families.

Anna toweled off her hair as Elsa lay on the queen-size bed, snuggled in an oversize white terry cloth bathrobe. She stared absent-mindedly at the decorative fireplace, lit with projected flames and an electric heater blowing warm air in the room.

“Finally feels nice to have a quiet moment to ourselves,” Anna exhaled, flopping gracelessly on the bed before snuggling up to Elsa, enjoying the warmth. “How are you holding up, sis?” she asked gently, softly caressing Elsa’s cheek.

For her part, Elsa just shook her head. “I… Anna, I was so scared. I’m still so scared. I’ve never- you shot all those people and… I know you had to do stuff like that in the Army, but I never… I never expected to see it up close. And the way… the last one…”

Anna hugged Elsa tight, reaching into her sister’s robe to gently stroke her skin, something that always comforted her. “I know, honey. It… you get used to it after a while. Well, I hope it’s something you never have to get used to. Anyway, I’ve been waiting all day to ask you. What the hell happened there? One minute Baddie McBadFace is pointing a gun in my direction, and the next thing I know, he looks like Jack Torrance from The Shining.”

“I… I think this is what they were after, Anna.” Elsa leaned over to grab her backpack off the floor. She dug out her blue silk gloves and a cloth-covered hip pack. “This is something I’ve been working on in my lab for a couple of years now. It’s a portable cryogenics unit that channels extreme cold through a pair of gloves.” She looked around before lowering her voice. “It’s part of a contract the lab has with the Department of Defense, supposedly to help bomb people defuse bombs easier by chilling them.”

Anna whistled. “That is seriously so cool-” she snort laughed, “I mean, so awesome. My EOD definitely could have used that in Kandahar. Fuck, I could have used that most of the time, it was so hot there!”

“I grabbed it when I hid in the bathtub, in case that’s why they were there, and then when that guy pulled me out to use me as a shield, I… I couldn’t let him hurt you, Anna. So I turned it on, hoping it would cause enough of a distraction,” she said, shuddering. “I knew it would make everything around me cold, including me. I… I didn’t know it would… would kill him.”

“Hey, you didn’t do that, I did, okay? You kept me safe, like you always used to promise when we were kids,” she kissed Elsa’s forehead. “And I got to keep you safe, too.” She pressed a gentle kiss against her sister’s lips. “Can I tell you something secret?”

Elsa nodded. “Of course, anything.”

“I’m really horny right now,” she giggled, winking at her sister.

“Anna! How- what- I- Anna! Seriously, how could you be at a time like this, after a day like today?” Elsa gasped, shocked. Anything other than staying safe in her sister’s arms was the furthest thing from her mind at the moment.

“It always happens after a mission or a firefight! I think it’s just my body thanking me for staying alive,” she smiled, stretching out on the bed like a cat. “I’m guessing you’re not?”

“No! Anything but!”

Anna put on a fake frown before bursting into giggles. “Okay. But promise me you’ll reconsider in the morning?”

Elsa gave a weak smile. “We’ll see.”

“I can work with that,” Anna grinned back, hugging her sister tight and pulling the blankets over them.

#elsanna #submission #december 2020 contest #prompt: warmth #cw: violence #cw: blood #cw: gore #cw: knives #cw: firearms #cw: guns #cw: assault #cw: graphic bodily harm #cw: minor character death

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noreligionisgood · 3 years

Link

Tim: Western cultures and people who have romanticized the horror of "The Handmaid's Tale," especially here in America, they don't understand that that's actually what's playing out over there, do they?

Yasmine: Margaret Atwood based "The Handmaid's Tale" on Iran, on what was happening in Iran when the Islamic revolution happened. And it's just so interesting to see how the women that are losing their minds over The Handmaid's Tale and saying "woah, this is just like Trump's America!" are not noticing that, actually it's based on real life, not on your hyperbolic imagination of what you think is happening in America.

It's quite frustrating to see people who are living in the freest country in the world not appreciate where they're living, especially when you're someone like me who comes from a background of really viscerally understanding what it means to not have any freedom whatsoever. There's so many of us that really understand that.

And so when you see people in America complaining - not just complaining, complaining is fine, but saying things like how we live in a fascist state, and they're comparing even what's happening in Afghanistan right now, they're saying like, "oh, what's the difference between the Taliban and what happened on January 6?"

I'm like.... what? LITERALLY ALL THE DIFFERENCES. Like,, what are you doing?! Stop trying to... it's like their life is so small, and all they know is their own little experience. And it's kind of like Paris Hilton breaking her nail and being like "oh, my god, this is the worst possible thing that could ever happen in anyone's life everrrr!"

That's what it feels like to people like me, who are coming from places that... you saw the images of people that were hanging on to the airplanes. falling to their death, that's how desperate they are to go to the US. They're handing over their babies to the troops.

My god, that should really make you pause and have gratitude for the country that you live in, and be appreciative of the fact that you were born there and that this is your citizenship because, you know, it's just luck and fate that they weren't born in some other country like Afghanistan and they weren't experiencing the horrors that people are experiencing there now.

[..]

Yasmine: Now I spend a lot of my time and energy speaking up for the people that I know cannot speak up for themselves, because they are in very dangerous situations. I mean, I think I'm in a dangerous situation, but it's not anywhere near compared to living in... trying to speak out like those women in Afghanistan that you mentioned, those five women that were walking with the Afghani flags. I can't imagine. There were men around them with these big huge guns.

The women that I always end up saying things to me like "who cares if I die? It's better than this life." Basically, they're saying they would rather die on their feet than live on their knees.

[..[

Yasmine: Just yesterday I posted an article that I wrote for Newsweek where I was talking about how the women, not only in Afghanistan are suffering, but all over the Muslim world because of Islamic laws.

And some do-gooder woman writes to me and says "but we need to talk about all of the positive things that Islam has." And I'm like, really? Really? That's your takeaway from me talking about women being tortured and killed, your takeaway is we need to talk about the "good" parts of Islam? It's such a betrayal.

So often there are all sorts of leaders, whether they are celebrities, whether they are politicians, when they go to Iran or Saudi Arabia or Afghanistan or wherever, they put the hijab on.

And it is very disheartening for the women that are fighting in those countries, because the women in those countries are fighting for their bodily autonomy, and they feel like they don't have power. And so when a woman comes in who has power, who's from a western country - you know, they're coming from Sweden, they're coming from all sorts of western countries - and they feel like "this is a woman with power, this is a woman that I can look up to, this is a woman that might speak up for me." And then they find that those women just subjugate themselves freely.

And even here, like our politicians here in Canada, every Eid or Ramadan, they have to put a hijab on to be like "Ramadan Mubarak."

Like, why the fuck do you have to do that? Why do you have to put on a costume? Why do you have to take somebody's oppression, something that gets people thrown in prison, attacked with acid, killed, and you're gonna take it and wear it for a photo shoot?

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