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#school shooting tw
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you know when you’re in america when your training modules for being an assistant preschool teacher have how to clean toys on one page and how to respond to a school shooting on the next
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papasmoke · 2 years
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I am not being hyperbolic when I say every cop who sat around and made sure this happened to these kids for an hour deserves a public execution.
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one-time-i-dreamt · 11 months
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This is just truly horrible and my heart goes out to the families and loved ones of the victims. They're in my thoughts and prayers.
First information from the survivors allege that the school's unarmed porter tried to stop and disarm him and protect the students, and that's how he lost his life. He died a hero.
The student shot at least 15 other students, aiming for their heads and chest, and doctors are currently fighting for lives of some of the survivors, and all are in surgery, as revealed by the director of the local emergency room.
He claimed the lives of eight, and was set on killing even more.
I've never heard of anything like this happening in these area before this.
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genderkoolaid · 1 year
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tw for the nashville shooting & related transphobia
sorry i'm really fucking mad rn seeing how quickly transphobes are jumping on the "testosterone makes trans men violent killers"
because no fucking shit they're doing this. i'm so pissed at the people who act like there's no way transphobes would ever see transmascs as anything but helpless little girls, as if that narrative itself isn't something relatively new & only got popular because it was useful. of fucking course the minute they have an excuse they are going to switch from "T mutilates women's bodies" to "T makes women into psycho killers", especially non-radfems who don't give a damn about women's rights in the first place. the only reason that the pity narrative got big is because radfems changed their tune from "women betraying women to get male privilege" to "poor little girls swindled into betraying womanhood" which was useful to non-feminist conservatives & their desire to control women. now they have the perfect opportunity to change up their transphobia to make transmascs into dangerous murderers & even more justification to ban HRT & criminalize testosterone specifically.
transmascs have already had to deal with people assuming we will get more violent and aggressive after starting T before this, & i'm very worried that is going to become a mainstream transphobic narrative. just watch how quickly transphobes are gonna use this to demonize testosterone and people who take it. its already happening:
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intersexfairy · 1 year
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trans people, especially transmascs in the US, if you are triggered by violence and transphobia... do yourself a favor now and blacklist the terms "audrey hale," "aiden hale," "nashville," and "shooting" on every platform you can. do not look at the posts or articles. don't. it's okay to not know. there are others who can know about this without harming/endangering their health.
to those who already know and aren't okay. i know you're scared; i am too, and the feeling will pass. you're not alone. you deserve a happy, safe, joyous life, and there will always be people fighting for you, even when you can't see them or hear them or know them. please be gentle with yourself, and know your wellbeing comes first. do something comforting, talk to a friend, eat something yummy. breathe. sleep. you got this.
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purity-in-blood · 2 years
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On Your Knees For Salvation
Minors don’t interact! This is 18+ and I beg of you to heed the warnings
Notes-I got a very, very carried away but this was such a blast to write! There were so many routes I could go with this particular scene. Either way I really hope you like it! If there’s anything else you’d want me to write based on the shooting don’t hesitate to send it in.
Tate Langdon x female reader
Trigger warnings: Heavy mention of school shooting, mention of religion (derogatory), foul language, forced worship, superiority/God complex, authoritative kink, dacryphilia, degradation, choking, biting, rape/non-con, loss of virginity, voyeurism, blood kink, gun play, slight knife play, throat fucking, boot worship, dumbification
Tate Langdon walked through the halls of Westfield with practically a bounce in his step. He knew all too well the stares he’s currently getting will soon transform into terror once it’s the right time. For the past 6 weeks he’s fantasized about this very moment and played around with every scenario imaginable. In his mind, this will kickstart a revolution that’ll help purify the world plagued with sinners and a controlling government. Today is one Tate wholeheartedly looked forward to—a cool autumn day that’s perfect for hiding a gun under a trenchcoat, worn many times already with this uniform.
He began shooting in one of the hallways closest to the cafeteria so they didn’t have a clear exit from there. With each shot he relished in the way there’s always a different reaction—a scream, cursing, trying to keep running which only prompted a second bullet to enter. Tate deliberately steps on a wounded student while moving through the carnage, he noticed them crawling and thought to place a boot onto their back, keeping them in place. He took aim at their neck before pulling the trigger even as they tried pleading. The blood splatter wasn’t unwelcome in the slightest, he sucked in a breath and continued walking as the sight and smell of crimson threatened to overwhelm him. Pools of blood, binders and parts of flesh were scattered as well in a way that all seemed like a horror movie set. He violently kicked at a binder in his way and send papers all over, laughing at how everything so easy fell into place. This was only the start of his wrath on those he deemed unclean. Tate had this hunch you’d be hiding studying in the library today so that’s his next destination. There’s no rush after all.
Today I was with my one of best friends, Stephanie, studying for some upcoming English test we forgot about last night. The session together went smoothly until there was this strange popping noise. It made studying far more difficult once tension spread throughout the room an hour later.
I heard what was happening before realizing the dire situation as the entire school ran through the hallway. Screaming was soon accompanied by gunshots which immediately sent me into fight or flight as a student burst through the door. Everyone turned their head as he barricaded it with one of the heavy chairs. I recognize him, Kevin, a childhood friend I’m close with to this day.
“Somebody’s shooting up the school! He’s just shooting people.”
It was like the air had been absorbed from my lungs. My first thought is to run toward him and check if he’s been shot. There’s a noticeable amount of blood on his shirt and skin, black hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. But thankfully there didn’t seem to be any visible flesh wounds.
“Do….do you know who it is?”
I fidgeted with the pendant at my neck, the only symbol of my faith that’s on me at all times. I don’t go to services regularly but that didn’t mean I was banned from praying. I’m pleading to our Lord to protect us from the shooter. Silently begging for this nightmare to end as quickly as it started. I hoped against all odds someone heard.
“I-I don’t know. I couldn’t get a good look at his face. He just…shot Mark Kingston right in front of me, blew his brains out.”
The description alone made my stomach churn but it couldn’t compare to what Kevin must’ve seen. He then grabbed my arm as Stephanie joined us behind the very last row of bookshelves. If need be, we might have a chance at scrambling for the tables closest to our current spot.
The three of us held our breath as each shot rang louder and the barricade rattled violently. Over and over the shooter tried to enter. Every kick was with more vigor than the last, making the hair on my neck stand on end. At last, the chair is sent across the room with such force—smashing into the librarian's desk and scattering everything on it to the ground—that everyone cried out before silence settled once more.
The door slowly opens and we get a full view of the shooter. He’s in all black, holding a shotgun in both hands but the thing that chills me to the bone is the cheerful tune he’s whistling. It’s one I’ve heard multiple times in the hallway enough to where I could whistle it myself from memory. I would’ve found it endearing but now it’s as if death taunts us.
He starts from the opposite side of the library but that doesn’t make things any better. Even if we could run for the exit it wasn’t likely we’d make it out alive. He shot Kyle, the lead jock, who curled himself into a ball under a table while begging for his life. Even though I should be looking away my eyes were glued on the horrors unfolding.
There’s another gunshot but clearly the next victim wasn’t dead. Melissa had started crying which only seemed to amuse Tate. He looks down at her with contempt like she was an insect he wished to crush. My hand went to my necklace and I lowered my head in prayer when he finally spoke.
“Quit your bitching! It���s not like I hit a vital organ or anything.”
He then moved onto his new victims, 2 frightened girls who somehow got the same shotgun blast—they were hugging tightly when he fired. The smallest—Cassidy—flew backwards from the impact as the other gasped in pain. He lifted Aileen’s chin with the barrel and her lips parted as if to speak. His other hand went to her cheek to thumb away a tear before lowering close.
“You must understand I’m taking all of you somewhere safe. This isn’t just about revenge. I prepared for this noble war.”
Tate brushed his lips against hers so gently they could be mistaken for lovers despite the circumstances. Luckily for her, the trigger wasn’t pulled and he backed off. Once he’s out of sight Aileen brought her knees up and curled in on herself. Trying to block out everything going on.
Tate resumed whistling as he casually walked among the shelves but we hurried toward the table when he was distracted. Although I was last to move. Stephanie clung to me while I attempted to comfort her and Kevin tried shielding us the best he could.
Somehow, it appears he’s looking for a specific person from how calm he is.
Another crying girl caught his attention and he didn’t hold back—once near her table, Tate kicked a chair and crouched in order to get a direct angle of her. They’re now face to face. Tate’s balancing his weight on the balls of his feet while holding the shotgun level to her heart. She started begging, mentioning a desire to go home as he leaned even closer. Yet again he showed tenderness toward a victim by brushing tears away, cupping her cheek. He’s staring at the girl almost with pity.
“I’m taking you to salvation. Are you ready to be set free?”
She managed to choke out a “Yes”—likely hoping to appease the shooter—which prompted him to lick his lips before firing. There’s a spray of blood and a ragged hole where her heart had been. He cursed under his breath and stepped over her crumpled body, deliberately placing one foot after the other into her open wound. Such a display almost made me gag.
“Oh God. Why is this happening?”
Stephanie whispered close to my ear and I gave her a gentle squeeze. This close, I felt her heart racing against my own chest. There wasn’t an explanation for any of this besides bullying. Or maybe it was something related to his home situation. I knew their household is dysfunctional but I hadn’t once thought of that being the cause of murderous intent.
Simon, the first to be injured, was attempting to call for help. Tate immediately changed direction, leaving bloody footprints as he did so toward the librarian’s desk—nearest to the exit—where the boy lay with his hand crushed underneath a computer.
“Sure. I’ll help you.”
He said it nonchalantly and with a smile like there’s plenty of time to be had. The shotgun is pointed straight at his jaw before the shells rip through him. Blood paints the wall after Simon goes limp and Tate calmly wipes at his face to remove the splatter.
“His face! What the fuck is wrong with you?!”
Aileen was sobbing hysterically now but is paid no mind. He moved back to the rows of bookshelves and started violently knocking books off in an attempt to scare anyone from their hiding place. The few shots were far closer than expected and we huddled together in the cramped space. Expecting to be shot then and there.
“Pathetic bitch. Get up!”
There's a sound of hurried footsteps and struggling, at first I thought he went over and grabbed Aileen. Until the female spoke. It was one of the injured cheerleaders, Melissa, who I didn’t know all that well but I’m aware of the fact she isn’t afraid of speaking her mind. I both admire that courage and fear for her in this moment.
“That’s enough Tate! You’re not saving anyone by shooting up the school. Honestly, this is the most obvious cry for help I’ve ever seen. I almost feel sorry for you.”
“You think I’ve done enough? I’m just getting started! Well that’s cute, at least I don’t feel the need to vomit after a big meal. I also know you’re the sluttiest cheerleader we have. I’m doing something that should’ve happened a long time ago. You know, I’d make you pleasure me but I have someone…more pure I’ve had my eye on.”
I could hear the smile in his voice when saying that last sentence and it nearly froze my blood. Surely he didn’t mean who I thought. There’s a thud, a gasp from Melissa that almost sounds like choking and then his boots are the only noise heard.
Suddenly, he turned on his heels and it felt like my heart dropped into my stomach when I saw his bloodstained combat boots appear in front of me. Tate Langdon knelt so we’re eye level, it’s disturbing how slowly he did so and the fact his gun is placed over his thighs. Just from body language it was easy to see the enjoyment he got from this.
“I’ve got one question for you, doll. Do you believe in God?”
That voice, oh that voice is dripping with a type of gentleness Tate rarely shows to anyone. It made bile further rise in my throat when he jabs at my religion. The answer is as clear as day since he asked what rested at my throat during prom. It’s likely he just wanted to see me squirm.
“No. I-I don’t kno—yes. Yes, I—“
I couldn’t understand why I tried appeasing this demon in human form. Though it seemed he waited for me to say “yes” before yanking me—by the throat—from my friends’ arms. Someone grabbed at my legs and monetarily played tug of war as I thrashed. Trying to get myself out of his iron grip but it proved useless. I begged, kicked and screamed as he dragged me to some tables. But it didn’t faze him in the slightest.
“Why huh?”
He dropped me so I’m flat on my ass. I looked up while Tate reloaded his weapon, placing the shells between his teeth and flashing me a smile. This sadistic, dominant side is one I never imagined a boy like him to have. But maybe you can’t truly know someone until moments like these. He’s quick to cock his gun with a smirk, waiting for my answer.
“Because my parents raised me that way…”
“Why don’t you show me then? Start cleaning my boots. Show your devotion.”
My heart beat like a hummingbird and I was afraid it might burst through my chest. However, if it’s my time to die then so be it.
I sank to my knees in front of him once he leaned onto the table and lifted a boot toward my face. My stomach is in knots as I carefully sweep my tongue over the sole, into each crevice there may be drying blood. Even the leather on its entirety got a nice touch up. I didn’t stop until I knew there’s not a speck of blood or dirt left and I repeated this until Tate’s other boot was like the first. By then, all I could taste is blood and whatever filth was on the bottom. I mutter one last prayer under the disguise of wiping my lips, attempting to scoot back.
He grabbed for the collar of my shirt and hauled me up so my feet dangle inches off the ground. Those dark eyes of his are so dilated that the brown is almost nonexistent. I can even see my reflection in them and it confirms my assumption of being caught by the Devil.
“He won’t be able to save you. I’m right here, I am your God. Aren’t good girls supposed to be on their knees for their savior when praying?”
“Shut up Tate! You don’t know anything about religion and you certainly don’t know mine!”
That’s when I moved faster than he’s able to comprehend, my feet shot out and struck between his legs, that certainly got a reaction of cursing and dropping me once again.
I immediately went for the shotgun, trying to tear it from his grasp but he whipped it upward right when I had the advantage. It struck my jaw with such force teeth rattled and I feared some would fall out. Tears filled my eyes but I stayed defiant, rushing toward him again but this time he landed a blow to my head. Before I knew what happened, I’m dizzily lifting my head to see Tate executing yet another classmate then heading my way. Boots thudding with each step.
His attitude is on full display by kicking a chair forward, sitting right in front of me. I’m muttering prayers once the overwhelming dizziness goes down enough to where I form coherent thought. I gasp and try prying the hand pulling me on my knees but soon realize metal at my temple.
“Hey Kevin. Did you know your little girlfriend is a filthy cock slut? She’s given me blowjobs in the bathroom more than once. Hopefully she didn’t kiss you on the lips afterwards.”
I glanced at Kevin who’s staring at Tate with such rage that if looks could kill, he would be dead already. Tate however, appears rather smug at the reaction and to further prove his point starts undoing his belt. My face paled at the realization and I settled my eyes on the man currently leaned over me. The grip on my hair tightened once I turned my face away, trying to get as much distance as possible.
“Oh don’t tell me. You’re shy to suck me off in front of your boyfriend but not when it’s just us? And here I thought an audience would only arouse you more.”
Tate forced my head downward but even then I wouldn’t allow him entrance. His anger surges and he’s off the chair in a second to push his pants further down. Fully revealing his hardened cock in all its glory. Tate found this situation quite amusing, especially since the girl below him proved unwilling. It only turns him on even more knowing she didn’t want this too.
“Open your mouth, slut. Or would you prefer to have it blown off like his?”
The barrel traces the line tears had gone and stopped right under my chin, in the exact spot where Simon was blown away. I really couldn’t say no or else he’d end my life. Reluctantly, I licked my lips to moisten them, opened my mouth and he immediately slipped inside.
His gun returned to my forehead as a constant reminder that at any moment he could pull the trigger. He’s enjoying every second of this and there wasn’t anything we could do to stop him.
Tate bobs my head along his dick in such a way that each thrust makes me gag. It wasn’t much different from our time in the bathroom but at this moment he didn’t make sure I’m comfortable. Sometimes, Tate would ask if I needed a break or if he should slow down. But this is relentless. My already aching jaw felt as if it might snap at any moment but otherwise I relaxed as much as possible. Every movement of Tate’s hips forced me to take every inch of his thick cock. My tongue moved across shaft to tip, hoping to seem genuine in my effort to please. I felt the barrel slide roughly against my hair as he let out a sigh.
“You go down just like Holy Mary but this time I’m not on a cross. And you won’t be a virgin for much longer, little miss Mary.”
From that insulting comment I dug my fingernails into his thighs hard enough until Tate yanked my head back, getting a better angle that allowed him even deeper. His tip continues hitting the back of my throat with every thrust and I traced each vein with my tongue, fighting the urge to bite him. The only noise in the room was of me sucking him off. No matter the humiliation I kept my eyes on him even as tears distort his face.
I could feel the oncoming orgasm from the way his pace became uneven and it wasn’t long until he shot a load down my throat. After swallowing each drop, he pulled me off and it was a relief having air back in my lungs. The first few breaths I managed were coughs, my throat felt sore and uncomfortable from what occurred.
The fight in me hadn’t vanished so easily.
When Tate glanced arrogantly—for a few minutes too long—at Kevin I grabbed the nearest book and slammed it into his face. It seems I caught him entirely off guard and that mistake is all I needed. He threw his gun on the table and was about to lunge forward.
I suddenly had a burst of confidence, practically throwing myself over the table to grab it before Tate could. I avoided his grasp and backed away, my hands shaking while I lifted the heavy firearm and aimed at his heart.
“My patience is wearing thin. Doll.”
He quickly advanced on me and didn’t hesitate to press his heaving chest against his own weapon. His hand went for the middle then to mine upon seeing my confidence quickly waver, my finger soon slipped from the trigger. God damn it, I wouldn’t be any better than Tate if I did this.
I took in his appearance, bloody-faced from a possibly broken nose and those eyes burned into mine. He’s completely different from the boy I met on my first day of school. The person before me is tuned for the hunt.
“Tate please—“
We’re toe to toe but it’s clear he’s using our height difference to intimidate. I’m pinned between him and the wooden table without a way of escaping. It was my fault after all but either way I had no choice.
“It’s Sir to you. It’s Yes Sir for you! Didn’t your parents raise you to respect authority? I surely hope you don’t behave this way in church.”
I could feel the anger radiating off Tate in waves. He twisted my wrist hard enough I thought I heard bones snap and the gun is ripped from my grasp. It’s discarded immediately and his hands were around my throat in a warning squeeze.
Yet again I tested my diminishing boundaries even as I courted death. Each time my religion is mocked it’s like a physical slap to the face.
“You haven’t the right to be called as such! You’re just acting out in an attempt to gain control of your life when your childhood had none.”
This had been the wrong thing to say.
His free hand went to his belt to produce a switchblade that sliced through my panties. I certainly regret my choice to wear a skirt today, my thighs clenched together in a feeble effort to cover myself from him. I felt fingers trailing up my shaking legs that stopped at the hip. At that, I pressed myself into the table to avoid his icy touch which seemed colder than normal.
“I’m warning you bitch. After I’m finished with you, you’ll wish I had blown your brains out. Why don’t you beg for it? Beg for me to pop your cherry. I mean…I doubt someone like you has experience when it comes to sex.”
Tate��s voice had dropped to a threatening tone and there’s a sudden pulling sensation at my throat. He managed to yank my necklace off and toss it aside even when I caught hold of it momentarily. I couldn’t help the sob that came upon having my religion physically stripped by the Devil. I looked straight at him and said what’s expected past the lump in my throat.
“Ta—Sir. P-please take my virginity. Fuck me like the slut you say I am. I’ll even worship you as…my..my God.”
He slicked his fingers with spit and his own blood and brought them to my cunt after forcing my legs apart. Trying to provide enough wetness. Tate knew it took great effort for those words to slip past my lips so it’s why he entered without hesitation. I cried out from his first thrust that forced my body further into the table, arching my back when a hand slipped under my shirt to harshly fondle my breasts.
“Mmm…am I exciting you already doll? You know, I’ve heard virgins get wet the fastest. It would be terrible for your boyfriend if you’re a lying whore.”
The twisted smile on his face only widened once I truly started to cry. He showed no mercy in taking something we both knew I wished to keep until marriage. I wrapped my arms around his back, clawing at the fabric while my insides ripped at his invasion. It only provided more lubrication as even more blood coats his dick with each harsh snap of his hips. The pace is bruising as Tate buries himself balls deep and soon enough there’s a fire burning in my core. A sensation I tried denying even as this started feeling really good. The hand still at my throat tightened to where I couldn’t get enough air, my vision wavered but his laughter was distinct.
“Tell me, did you ever finger yourself to the thought of me after our sessions? I thought of fucking you like this for quite some time.”
His voice lowers to almost a whisper that’s a strange contrast from the dominant behavior earlier. I managed a nod, tears continue rolling down my cheeks when a moan gave my arousal away quicker than intended.
The pressure momentarily vanished to allow an opportunity to answer.
“Yes Sir. I’ve also imagined what you’d feel like inside me. I often fantasized about it.”
I ran my fingers through his slicked back hair once our foreheads came together in a show of mock intimacy. The sound of skin against skin is so disgustingly exciting, laughter rings in my ears as does the gunshots while he choked the life out of me. His intense, soulless eyes captured my gaze and I knew then he saw everything. My legs shook despite not fully standing which promoted him to slip an arm under my waist. Making it so there’s no distance between us.
Before this situation happened the few of us alive had stifled any noise that might have attracted the shooter. Now I can hear sobbing and prayers all around us. For Tate, this only made him want to fuck her harder and force her to show everyone she’s actually enjoying it.
Tate groaned when my walls clenched around his cock but he didn’t let up on chasing his own orgasm. Unfortunately my first time is mixed with pain and pleasure as my eyes rolled into my head. It feels as if I’m floating when my body suddenly jerks forward but my only thought is to feel him cum. My legs came around his waist when Tate hits a spot that nearly unraveled me.
“Please Sir…”
“Please what? You’ve got to use your words sweetheart.”
His voice is sickeningly gentle. His breath further heats my skin when he laughs into my neck at my desperate tone. Tate shifts our weight so I’m sitting further in his lap, yet another moan escaped at the change of position. The lack of oxygen clouded my mind and to his delight I’m bouncing on his cock like a whore. He’s stretching me to my limit with each thrust that forced his thickness deeper than I thought imaginable. I sharply pulled at Tate’s hair in an attempt to encourage him to speed up the pace.
“Please, please allow me to cum. I need to, Sir. I’m just a vessel to be used by a God such as you.”
“That’s right. Fuck, you’re so tight. You really are a slut after all and an unfaithful Christian. I’ll show you who’s God.”
Those words muttered into my skin are like poison though my body told a different story entirely. Each spot he touched felt ablaze. I felt awful for subtlety moving my hips against the very person who took the lives of our classmates just a few feet away. Tate is by no means a God though continues to act as such. The only authority he has is due to the uniform and gun.
I couldn’t help but consider how good he feels inside, his dick hitting a sweet spot that makes me fasten my legs tighter around him, coaxing him to go even harder.
“I want you to say it. Say ‘You own me Sir. You are my God.’”
Tate’s fully aware he’s being watched fuck her senseless and the fact she’s submitting is almost too good to be true. Another sadistic grin spread across his lips at the thought of what’s to occur when she’s swept to the hospital. At night, he often fantasized about this very moment, raping a girl such as this one before committing suicide. The crying and praying—hers and their classmates—only made him harder. And that she fought back. Tate’s looking into her eyes while she straddles him, her face is flushed and eyes half-lidded with arousal.
“Ah…you..you own me Sir. You are my God.”
My fate was sealed then and there. A few sharp movements were all it took before Tate fully buried himself, blowing his load.
There was only so much he could handle, their foreheads pressed together as her walls started to constrict as if trying to keep him sheathed. Tate admired her briefly, the tear stained face, parted lips, her breath on his tongue and tickling him. She looked absolutely ruined in the most beautiful way.
His cock throbbed and I’m filled to the brim with hot cum that goes deeper than he’s able. I pressed my face into Tate’s neck, nuzzling into him. Whimpering once I felt his blade kiss my flesh. He leaned down and bit my throat hard enough to leave teeth imprints. Soon enough my head lulled onto his shoulder as my consciousness quickly faded.
Tate groaned while pulling out of her before lowering the girl on the floor. She’s already dripping which prompted him to stuff her pussy with the underwear previously cut. Trying to keep as much in so there’s a higher chance of pregnancy. He carefully placed his trenchcoat—revealing his military coat underneath—over her body, then fixed his pants, grabbed his shotgun and headed for the exit. All the while whistling that very tune he had before starting the massacre.
Tate headed for the cafeteria—and shot the few remaining students under tables who were foolish enough to stay put. He picked up a discarded water bottle, drank what’s left and threw it to the floor when finished. By the time he arrived it was already 12:30 pm and it’s only a matter of time before SWAT ruined his fun. He jogged to the library for one last survey of his work. The girl under his coat remained blissfully ignorant of his looming form above her. He licked his lips slowly, admiring her delicate body he just defiled. She looked so fragile. If he really wanted to, he could strangle her or put a bullet in that pretty head right now. Although that wasn’t the plan.
Tate put 6 feet of distance between them, going onto his knees but facing her. He raised the gun to his left temple and pulled the trigger. Hoping to be confined at Westfield instead of that damn house.
The few in the library watched their shooter kill himself less than 10 feet from them. A few screamed out—from relief or shock it wasn't known—and immediately ran for the exit. Except Kevin, Aileen and Stephanie.
Aileen was the first to move toward y/n while Kevin grabbed the broken pendant he cradled in his palm. A part of him was relieved Tate had killed himself while the other wished he’d been the one to do it.
The two knelt beside y/n, each holding one hand. They didn’t need to look under the trenchcoat to imagine how she appeared since they were forced to watch. But for now she’s peaceful which is why they didn’t wake her. All they could do is wait until SWAT assisted everyone outside.
In the end. Tate knew what he did was for a war he hoped others took note of. Their school needed cleansing as does this filthy world they live in. His act of committing suicide wasn’t one of cowardliness but of self sacrifice. He saved his classmates from the truly harsh realities of life. They’re taken somewhere safe, somewhere clean. Perhaps some would understand his actions and regard him a hero. A soldier even. In times of tragedy people looked to God. Right? Wherever Tate ends up he’ll always find a way to make sure people saw him as such. Especially y/n.
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phoenixyfriend · 11 months
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Due to having seen a post just now about school emergency drills, and being very, very pessimistic in this moment... let's play a (horrible) game:
Please no arguing in the notes or long monologues/diatribes. I just want the numbers, which means reblogs, but I can't find the option to turn off replies.
(Depending on how that part goes, I might delete the original post to clean my activity feed. I just... I remember middle and high school, and to my knowledge, it's gotten worse.)
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wifegideonnav · 4 months
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youtube
btw if you haven’t watched this jacob geller video essay i highly recommend that you do. it discusses anti-shooter architecture in schools and how that relates to the way in which the worlds in fps games are designed with firefights in mind. his thesis regards the mental impacts of receiving one’s schooling in a building that is designed for the possibility that someone will enter it with the intent of shooting as many people as possible. less than 17 minutes, easy to follow, and hauntingly compelling.
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crazycatsiren · 1 year
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Do you know who might be reading your "men should be enslaved" posts? Black people who are descendants of slaves.
Do you know who might be reading your "males should be euthanized" posts? BIPOC and Jews whose families and ancestors have been through/survived genocides and ethnic cleansings.
Do you know who might be reading your "boys should be rounded up and killed" posts? Parents and families who have lost children in school shootings.
Do you know who might be reading your "male fetuses should be aborted" posts? Romani women, Jewish women, native American women, and other women of color and their mothers, grandmothers, sisters, who were put through forced abortions and sterilizations.
And you think you're being funny.
You're not a feminist.
You're a fucking terrorist.
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mtfdomme · 1 year
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As I’m sure many of you are aware, there was another school shooting a couple of hours ago, it happened in Nashville and the shooter was apparently trans.
Please brace yourself for a torrent of anti-trans hate that’ll almost certainly come from this, and blacklist/block any tags/keywords that you feel are necessary.
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nonsensegnomes · 1 month
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kinda crazy song choice for this dirties (2013) trailer i just unearthed...
yt
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if i see one more person say that the reason the robb shooter killed those kids was because he was 'incapable of empathy' i am going to lose it. plenty of people struggle with empathy and know right from wrong. they all know not to kill fucking kids. that man knowingly made a decision to hurt children not bc he didn't experience empathy but bc he was a horrible person. don't conflate the two. people who don't experience or have no empathy are fully capable of being good people. no empathy does not equal child murderer
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def-not-kaz-brekker · 2 months
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Just heard someone use the pickup line “are you an American school, cause I wanna shoot some kids on inside you” I’m sobbing
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egberts · 2 years
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it was an elementary school and people are already blaming it on teachers not being armed, and the lack of school security, and 'guns don't kill people people do'. like HOW inappropriate can you be. at least thirteen CHILDREN are dead because of a gun and your first thought is to defend the gun?!
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genderkoolaid · 1 year
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Is the Nashville shooter even a trans man? (genuine question, people are saying lots of different things and I don't trust mainstream media)
Yes, it's been confirmed in multiple places that he was transgender, used he/him pronouns online and asked to be addressed as Aiden & male in a Facebook post (screenshot from CNN, Maria Colomy taught him at college):
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For some. fucking. reason. Even though virtually ever news article I've seen says he was transgender and used he/him pronouns. They KEEP using she/her and calling him a "woman" because they. don't know enough about his gender identity??? It's so infuriating and obviously he's not the biggest victim here but like. if the police said he was trans, his Facebook clearly showed he used he/him pronouns, and an old teacher confirmed he wanted to be called Aiden and male, then why the FUCK are we continuing to use she/her and Audrey and "woman" and saying shit like "ohhh we know SHE was trans but we can't be sure what SHE identified as so we'll just continue to call HER AUDREY" I think I've seen exactly ONE article use they/them pronouns. Literally in the SAME ARTICLE as that screenshot a few paragraphs up they said this:
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UNCLEAR??? ARE YOU FUCKING SURE?????? DO YOU WANT HIS GHOST TO PERSONALLY WHISPER HIS PRONOUNS IN YOUR EAR???????
Basically don't blame yourself for being confused because for some reason the media has decided to be extremely fucking confusing. It doesn't help people thinking he was a trans woman when people keep acknowledging he was trans but misgendering him. I would understand this from conservative media but I don't get why suddenly everyone forgot how trans people work the minute this happened.
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arctic-hands · 3 months
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Say what you want about American news media (and there's a lot to criticize, starting with their insatiable need to be "balanced" rather than truthful), but it seems the people at CBS/N are getting increasingly more angry with every school shooting
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