#THIS VIOLENCE IS UNACCEPTABLE WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

drudyslut · 13 days

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rafe x jealous!reader inspired by lana del rey „jealous girl“ (unreleased song sadly)🎀

„if i can’t have you baby, no one else in this world can.“

where he broke up with her because of her obsessive & jealous behavior a few weeks ago. (let’s pretend he’s not a killer haha) she sees him with another girl at a kook party & explodes with emotions. she beats up the girl & punches rafe & screams her lungs out that he belongs to her and no one else & that no one can have him if she can’t. topper and kelce literally have to drag her away from the poor beat up girl.

which literally leads to her breaking into tannyhill & threaten him with a gun. i’m thinking about no happy end because she ends up killing him and herself. but that’s up to you. or you can just erase the no happy end!

hope it’s not too gory, if it is it’s okay! maybe you could recommend someone who writes this kind of „gore“😩

BRO I LOVE THIS!!!! OMFG!!!!! she is me fr, bc who tf does Rafe think he is ???? leaving me??? NAH bby.

CW: violence, strong language, jealous!reader, toxic!reader, alcohol consumption, mention of a gun, breaking and entering, toxic relationship, mentions of blood. i think that’s it?

I didn’t understand why he’d left me. I mean, sure, I could be unpredictable and a little overly jealous. But he was mine. Any woman in my position would be the same way, right?

Maybe I took it too far sometimes. Maybe that was my problem. No, fuck that. If you’re not obsessed with the man or woman you’re with, then what’s the point, right? I was obsessed with him. I still am. So seeing him here with her has my blood boiling.

“Don’t do it.” My best friend, Kayla, says firmly.

I narrow my eyes on her, biting at the rim of my solo cup. “Don’t do what?” I ask, feigning innocence.

Kayla sighs, tossing back the rest of her drink before setting the cup onto the countertop. I place my eyes back on Rafe. He stands at the other side of the room, his right arm draped around the bitches shoulder as he laughs at whatever bullshit Topper was saying. He’s not that fucking funny.

I feel Kayla’s hand on my shoulder before she’s spinning me around to face her. Her amber eyes are narrowed in on my face. “I see the way you’re looking over there. Whatever you’re thinking of doing, squash it. It’s not fucking worth it, Y/N.”

I can’t help but roll my eyes. It is fucking worth it. Rafe Cameron is mine, and it’s about time I remind him of that.

“Kayla, haven’t you ever loved someone so much, that you become overly obsessed with them? That you would do whatever the fuck it took to prove that they belonged to you? Because that’s what I feel for Rafe. I’m never going to win him back with her in the way.”

She sighs for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. “Look, I get it. But you’re not going to win him back by doing something stupid. If you go over there, you might as well kiss him goodbye forever.”

She’s right. But I’ll never tell her that. Instead, I down the rest of my drink, tossing the cup into the trash bag that sits behind me and say, “I don’t give a fuck. She’s touching what’s mine. And that’s just unacceptable.”

I yank myself from her grip, turning and making my way toward Rafe and Jade.

Rafe’s eyes go wide when he sees me approaching, and I can’t help the smile that spreads on my lips.

“Hi baby, you miss me?” I ask him, batting my lashes while smiling widely.

“What’re you doing, Y/N? We’re not together anymore.”

I frown. “Baby, come on. You know you didn’t mean that shit. So why the fuck are you saying stupid shit? And why the fuck are you draped all over this bitch?” I ask, pointing toward the bleach blonde that’s tucked underneath his right arm.

A smile forms on Jade’s face, making my blood boil and my hands fist down by my sides.

“Oh Y/N.. You poor thing. Rafe told me you were fucking craz-”

My fist connecting with her nose cuts her words off. She falls to the ground, blood pouring from her nose as she holds it, glaring up at me.

“You bitch!” She shouts, and I just laugh. I jump onto her weak body, throwing punch after punch to her once perfect face. My knuckles are split from her teeth, my voice hoarse from screaming as I continuously hit the poor girl.

I feel two sets of strong arms ripping me up off her, my feet instinctively kick forward, getting her in the face one more good time before I’m physically dragged out of the house.

“Yo! Calm the fuck down, Y/N! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

My body is buzzing, adrenaline pumping through my veins has me seeing fucking stars right now. I look up, my eyes focusing on a mortified Topper and Kelce. I smile at them coldly.

“You guys are no fun” I pout. “I was winning back there ya know?”

Topper scoffs, his eyes wide. “You fucking broke her nose Y/N! You fucked her face up, Rafe’s gonna have to take her to the hospital… What’re you gonna do if one of them turns you into the police?!”

I can’t help the laugh that bubbles up in my chest. “Oh please, Top. Rafe would never turn me in. He loves me.”

Kelce throws his hands up, turning and giving me his back before walking into the house to presumably check on Rafe and his bitch.

Topper takes a cautious step toward me, his right hand landing on my shoulder. I glare at his hand for a second before he pulls back, sighing. “Look, he did love you. But you scared him away. You were too jealous and too obsessive. Rafe didn’t like that, so now you have to let him go.”

I laugh at that too. Maybe Topper is funnier than I gave him credit for.

“Top, he will be mine. No one else in this world is good enough for him. I’ll make sure he knows that.”

Before he can say anything else, I turn on my heels and skip down the steps of his front porch, making my way home to get the things I’ll need for later together.

Two hours after I’d absolutely beat the shit out of Jade in front of all of my friends, I’m sitting outside of Tannyhill, my right hand holding the small metal weapon i’d gotten from my house, fingertips tracing over the trigger slowly while I hum silently to myself.

Rafe will learn tonight, that if I can’t have him. No one can.

He’ll either be smart and take me back, or I’ll take us both out. The choice is his.

After what felt like forever, his headlights lighting up the driveway have me sitting up straighter in my spot. I watch as he pulls his truck to the side, putting it in park and hopping out. He makes his way to the door, slightly swaying from all the alcohol I assume he consumed after Top and Kelce threw me out.

Fuck them. And fuck Rafe for allowing it. He should stick up for me. He should fucking love me. I do everything for him. I would do anything he asked. And yet, he doesn’t want me? The thought of him with anyone else has my blood fucking boiling.

I watch as he pushes the door open, moving to shut it but I quickly stand and sprint toward the door, stopping it with my hand. He drunkenly staggers backward, turning his head as a confused “what the?” falls from his mouth.

His eyes land on mine, squinting to try and make out who he’s looking at since it’s kinda dark in here.

“Hi, Rafe.”

His eyes go wide and he stumbles backward, throwing his hands up. “What the fuck are you doing here?” He asks, shaking his head from side to side.

A slow smile makes its way onto my lips. I make my way farther into the house, shutting and locking the door behind me. “I came to see you, baby. Why would you ask me that?”

He laughs. “We’re- we’re not together Y/N. You fucking broke Jade’s nose, along with many other bones in her face. You’re fucked in the head. Please, leave.”

I can’t contain the laugh that bubbles in my chest. I take a few slow steps toward him, and he matches them, taking a few steps back.

“Rafe, you’re hurting my feelings. You love me, why are you acting like you don’t?”

His back hits the couch behind him, and he sticks his hands behind him to catch himself. His blue eyes are wide and full of fear.

“Y/N… I- I did love you, but you were too jealous, too fucking obsessive… I couldn’t handle that shit.”

Tears fill my eyes as the words leave his mouth. They stung. But he also just pissed me off. I pull the gun I had tucked in my hoodie pocket out, pointing it toward him as I let the first tear fall.

“How could you say that, Rafe? I love you! I would do fucking anything for you! Why can’t you just accept me for who I am?”

Rafe’s eyes go wider—if that’s even possible— and he raises his hands higher. “Y/N… We can talk about this. Put the gun away baby.”

I let out a laugh that makes me sound borderline insane, and maybe I am. But love makes you do crazy things right? I love him, and if I can’t have him, no one can…

“Don’t fucking lie to me!” I scream, my hands shaking as I continue pointing the gun at his beautiful face.

“I-I’m not lying. Please, princess. Put the gun away so we can talk…”

I take another slow step toward him, standing almost directly in front of him now. His intoxicating scent floods my senses, making me feel almost dizzy.

I clear my throat, blinking away the fresh tears as my shaky hands stay pointing in his direction. “I would have done anything for you. I love you, and you just cast me aside because what? Because I cared too much? Because I was so in love with you it made me fucking crazy?” I pause, letting out a choked laugh as I watch the fear in his eyes slowly turn into sadness. He fucking felt bad? Good. “I love you, Rafe. I’m just here to let you know… If I can’t have you, no one can.”

His blue eyes well up with tears, and he quickly blinks them away. Lowering his hands to his sides, he takes a cautious step toward me, the barrel of the gun pressed into his chest. He reaches out his right hand, running his thumb across my cheek and wiping away a tear that had fallen.

“Sweetheart… Put the gun away, and let’s talk, yeah?”

I sniff, my eyes finding his piercing blue ones. I slowly nod my head, lowering the gun in front of me, hearing him let out a deep exhale before his hands wrap around the cold metal object. He quickly turns the safety on and tosses the gun behind him and onto the couch.

Tears flow quickly down my face, choked out sobs pulled from my chest as I just stare back at the man who’d broke my heart. If he didn’t choose me, I wasn’t sure how I’d continue living. I needed him. The thought of never feeling him again, never smelling his scent, having his lips on mine, hearing his soothing voice — it was all too much for me to think about.

His arms wrapping around my waist, pulling me flush into his hard body, has all of those negative thoughts flying out the window. He still loves me.

I sob into his chest, apologies falling from my mouth like word vomit as he lovingly rubs his hand up and down the length of my back, shushing me. “Shhh, s’okay baby. ‘M here. I’m sorry.”

He holds me, swaying our bodies back and forth for what feels like forever. The sweet words spilling from his mouth and the feel of his hands on my body again are comforting. Like a warm blanket wrapped around you on a particularly cold day, or like your grandmother having cookies out for you after school.

Rafe was my safe space. He was my home. And I couldn’t lose him. I refused to go on in life without him by my side.

His next words hurt, but gave me a sense of hope that we could make it work after all.

“We can work on us, okay? I’m not going anywhere princess,” He pauses, lifting my head from his chest so my eyes are on him, “But you need to get help. Get medicated or something. You can’t be going off the rails batshit crazy all the time. I’m worried about you, and I need to know you won’t lose your goddamn head anytime you feel threatened by someone.”

My eyes search his, his eyes telling me he means every word he’s saying. I couldn’t be mad. I was a little over the top sometimes. If getting help for my psycho tendencies meant getting to keep Rafe? I’d do it. I’d do anything to keep him.

I swallow thickly, nodding my head, “Okay…”

He places his right hand on the back of my head, pushing it back down onto his chest and pressing his lips onto the top of my head. My body melts into his, my arms tightly hugging at his waist as I silently cry. I suck in a shaky breath, mumbling against his chest, “I love you, Rafe.”

He sighs, rubbing his hands up and down my back softly. “I know, princess. I know.” He pauses, and the hesitation of him telling me he loves me too pulls at my heart. Shattering me. But he finally says the four words that kept me sane, “I love you too.”

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lordadmiralfarsight · 6 months

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Revolution fetishism is a horrible political view, especially in this context

Okay, rant incoming, partially related to recent events, but also to earlier thinking on my part.

There are, on the Left, a fair few people that romanticize or outright fetishize the concept of Revolution, of violent popular uprising to wrest power out of the hands of a corrupt elite and give it to the people. Very romantic, very righteous (self-righteous pretty often), very good and nice and sexy. And by the grace of revolutionary fervor and ideological purity, everything will be better after.

Except no.

See, a lot of this romanticization of Revolution comes, to my knowledge, from my own country of France. We have romanticized our Revolution a fair bit, and honestly, looking at the first part, fair. A serious go at giving women rights, a no-cause divorce, abolition of slavery, privileges thrown out, equality between people proclaimed loud, enfranchisement given to minorities ... in 1789. A LOT of good and progress, especially for the time.

But then it got fucky, VERY fucky. The Reign of Terror, under the caring leadership of Maximilien Robespierre, was a fucking nightmare on Earth, caracterized by mass executions on political basis, and by this I mean anyone that opposed Robespierre got beheaded. Political plurality? You mean anti-revolutionary sentiment ! Unacceptable, kill everyone.

A rumor of the time said the Place de Grève was covered in a layer of blood that was ankle deep. Is that an exageration ? Yes, certainly. But the fact it got to that point should tell you something about how intense the murdering was. And that was just one square in Paris, there was the rest of the country to consider too.

But surely, after Robespierre fell victim to his own system and was executed, something better emerged, right?

No. Sweet mother of fuck, NO.

What followed was roughly 70 years of political instability and violence, warfare and civil war, several dictatorships, including attempts to restore absolute monarchy, that undid most of the good brought by the first part of the Revolution. And finally, France stumbled onto political stability in 1870 when the temporary 3rd Republic, that was supposed to wait until the presumptive heir to the throne (who wanted an absolute monarchy) croacked did what temporary things do best and became the permanent system (until its fall).

This was not thanks to the Revolution. It was pure randomness.

Did the French Revolution bring good things? Yes, it did. In its first part. The second part brought chaos and misery for multiple decades. And it took a lot of work and efforts to bring back what the Revolution, the peaceful part, had brought in.

And far too many people on the Left fetishize and romanticize the whole thing, as if we couldn't have had the first part without the second, as if the progress and hope and betterment somehow needed the chaos and murder that came after.

Yes, there would have been a period of conflict, European monarchies would not have accepted quietly a realm the size of France doing away with monarchs. But did we REALLY need the political purges ? Did we REALLY need the paranoia ? Did we REALLY need the massacres ?

But you will find people that answer yes, and say the spilled blood somehow made it pure, or good. And those same people are looking at what Hamas is doing and are cheering. These people don't celebrate the first part, the progress and hope. They claim to be, but they aren't. They celebrate the Terror. They yearn for the unjust "popular tribunal" AKA mob "justice". They dream of executing political opponents or anyone they think is "bad" on light or even absent charges.

And That's why they cheer for Hamas rockets and massacres. That's why they sing when Israeli children are murdered. That's why they attack Jews that don't live in Israel. Because they hope to vicariously live this period of unchecked violence.

Know who was celebrating the RIGHT part of the Revolution ? The Israeli working with Gazan to build understanding. The Gazan protesting against Hamas. The Israeli Arabs risking their lives to save the lives of fellow Israeli and of foreigners, regardless of skin or creed. The Gazan trying to improve things in their homes against the wishes and efforts of Hamas.

Know who IS celebrating the RIGHY part of the Revolution ? The Israeli protesting the way the IDF is bombing Gaza. The people decrying the hypocrisy of blood-thirsty leftists. The people calling for Peace and working to make the political change to allow it.

But the Robespierres of the time, drunk on their own self-assurance, condemn and insult them, claiming that blood must be spilt. But it doesn't have to be. The French Revolution started relatively bloodlessly. It didn't need some great orgy of violence. Oh it wasn't clean, but it was far cleaner than the armchair Robespierres would like it to be. Because it didn't need to be.

And that's my point, really. The people fantasizing about and fetishizing the Revolution always dream of torrents of blood washing away the injustices, of seas of corpses forming a fertile ground upon which progress can grow. But that horseshit. All you get with that is, like the Place de Grève, a sinister place that stinks of rot and death, and flocks of scavengers gorging on your crimes.

All you get is a chance for a Napoleon to arrive. Or Stalin's USSR that so casually carried on with the crimes of the Tsars. Or Polpot who murdered 25% of his population.

If you look at the French Revolution, the right lesson to learn is that you need to know when to stop, and that's before you get to indiscriminate killing. Because once you get to that point ... people that thrive in those settings get in power and perpetuate them.

And to apply that to the situation in I/P ... knowing when to stop means realizing that Israeli are still humans, that Gazan are still humans, that their lives have worth and should be protected, that supporting child killings when it's done by "brown people" is not anymore alright than supporting child killings when done by the IDF. And you people should very well consider the possibility that people inside the IDF are doing all they can to reduce Bibi's ability to order war crimes.

And you should recognize that there are efforts on the part of the IDF, sometimes token efforts, sometimes more than just that, to limit the number of dead civilians. Point me to a case where Hamas did the same. Point me to a case where they tried to get Israeli civilians out of the way instead of targeting them.

Hamas is not a Revolution you want to succeed. It's not about being free. It's about killing. This isn't a "glorious revolutionary action", it's a prelude to the wholesale slaughter and ethnic massacre they dream of. It's a tiny window into their ideal, blood soaked world.

Violent revolution should be a last resort, when there is no other option available, when the system is so utterly broken and shattered that nothing can move, and it should be stopped as soon as the system is unfucked enough to negociate. The I/P situation is not at that stage. Look at how much efforts the fascists of both sides have to invest in maintaining this. Look at how much time and money and efforts they have to invest to keep each other in place. And despite this, people of both sides reach for peace, argue and protest for it, even at the risk of their very lives (especially true in Gaza).

And if you refuse to consider all this, if you insist on following Robespierre, remember this : La Veuve came for him too, in the end.

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criptochecca · 7 months

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I do not want, you may well understand, to proceed today to a critique of the colonial system. I do not intend as a colonized man, speaking to colonized people, to demonstrate that the colonial state is an abnormal, inhuman and reprehensible state. It would be grotesque on my part to want to convince you of the unacceptable nature of colonial oppression. However, I would like to focus my reflections on the violence integral to colonial oppression.

The colonial regime is a regime instituted by violence. It is always by force that the colonial regime is established. It is against the will of the people that other peoples more advanced in the techniques of destruction or numerically more powerful have prevailed. I say that such a system established by violence can logically only be faithful to itself, and its duration in time depends on the continuation of violence.

But the violence which is in question here is not an abstract violence, it is not only a violence perceived by the spirit, it is also a violence manifested in the daily behaviour of the colonizer towards the colonized: apartheid in South Africa, forced labour in Angola, racism in Algeria. Contempt, a politics of hate, these are the manifestations of a very concrete and very painful violence.

Colonialism, however, is not satisfied by this violence against the present. The colonized people are presented ideologically as a people arrested in their evolution, impervious to reason, incapable of directing their own affairs, requiring the permanent presence of an external ruling power. The history of the colonized peoples is transformed into meaningless unrest, and as a result, one has the impression that for these people humanity began with the arrival of those brave settlers.

Violence in everyday behaviour, violence against the past that is emptied of all substance, violence against the future, for the colonial regime presents itself as necessarily eternal. We see, therefore, that the colonized people, caught in a web of a three-dimensional violence, a meeting point of multiple, diverse, repeated, cumulative violences, are soon logically confronted by the problem of ending the colonial regime by any means necessary.

[...]

In certain colonies, the violence of the colonized is the last gesture of the hunted man, meaning that he is ready to defend his life. There are colonies which fight for freedom, independence, for the right to happiness. In 1954, the Algerian people took up arms because at that point the colonial prison became so oppressive that it was no longer tolerable, because the hunt was definitely on for Algerians in the streets and in the countryside and because, finally, it was no longer a question for the Algerian of giving a meaning to his life but rather of giving one to his death.

[...]

What we are saying is that we need to close our ranks. It is necessary that our voice should be powerful not only by being vigorous but also for the concrete measures that could be taken against this or that colonial state.

[...]

No, the violence of the Algerian people is neither a hatred of peace nor a rejection of human relations, nor a conviction that only war can put an end to the colonial regime in Algeria. The Algerian people have chosen the unique solution that was left to them and this choice will hold firm to us.

Frantz Fanon - Why We Use Violence, address to the Accra positive action conference, 1960 (translated by Robert J. C. Young)

#frantz fanon

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the-fluff-piece · 1 year

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"He did WHAT?" - one piece guys dealing with your toxic asshole ex - headcanon

Summary: lots of people have one - the toxic asshole ex boyfriend that did some horrible stuff to you. You told your new OP bf about what your previous relationship was like after some time to explain some of your more unusual behaviours. What might happen when they get the chance to serve that dick some revenge?

A fluff collection of headcanons about Law, Sanji, Zoro and Luffy giving that bastard what he deserves.

And check out my headcanon masterlist

Cw: mentions of unspecific abusive behaviours and trauma responses, and of course, comic violence like it happens in the show.

That said...Enjoy some revenge fantasies! Share in the comments what you want them to do to your asshole ex!

Disclaimer, I feel I need to say this) : I am no psychiatrist! This is just some silly headcanons and in no way a real help. If you feel that things people did to you years ago still haunt you, get professional help, it's really good!

Law

When he first hears the story about how you have been treated, his expression darkens. "I am here now, he's gone" is what he tells you - and himself, too. But it gnaws at him. He hates manipulators that put people in literal or psychological cages. And he hates that it happened to you.

When they meet in person, Law will rearrange your ex's body and is open for your suggestions. Why not replace his head with a cannonball and take his dick as a trophy? He doesn't need to spew abusive bullshit anymore and no one needs his sexual attention anyways.

Law will sleep better, knowing that he did to him what you wouldn't have because you are too good a person

He is not one for elaborate compliments and he is no therapist, but he will try to help healing the wounds you sustained by being the most supportive and positive boyfriend you ever had. If you need his shoulder, he is there. If you feel bad, he will do anything to make you feel better. He will not make you do anything you don't feel comfortable with.

Sanji

As you casually tell him about your past relationship he catches fire and has to run around the ship a few times to cool down. He switches between pampering you extra, extra EXTRA nice and angry mutterings to himself. He promises you if he ever meets that guy, he is going to kick him through all the grand line and back again

When the moment comes, Sanji switches into total ruffian mode. You have never heard that string of merciless trash talk from anyone before and it doesn't take long until he has totally set off your ex, luring him into throwing the first punch. It is, of course, futile, but Sanji takes his time to finish him off. He should, after all, learn that no one should hurt his lady.

He is visibly relieved to have finally gotten revenge for the unacceptable things that guy did to you. He is awaiting your praise eagerly.

Since he knows what it feels like first hand, he feels even closer to you and tells you his stories if you want to hear them. You will heal together, in time. The memories will fade and be replaced with better ones you make together. You support each other in breaking through the self harming behaviour you developed.

Zoro

His initial reaction to your explanations about why you still feel uncomfortable doing certain things is total helplessness. He cannot fathom that someone would ever take the time and effort to systematically destroy their partner. He believes you, but it is so far out of his own experience that it is hard to grasp for him.

It makes him angry, however. Because that dickhead insulted you you feel insecure? What can be broken can be fixed is Zoro's motto, so he will comment positively on everything every time. Even though he is not very creative, his compliments come from the heart, and you feel it.

When he finally meets the guy he is a bit disappointed. That is no worthy opponent. He doesn't honor him with the use of his swords. Zoro will grab him by the collar and throw him off the next cliff. "For what you did to y/n, you coward."

The job is finished, no need to talk about it anymore and forget the bastard ever existed.

Luffy

When you merely tell him about it he will think you got over it just like he doesn't stay angry for long. But when you cry the first time or refuse to do something fun because of him he realises that you are still affected by what happened to you. He will not have it.

When they meet and your shitty ex makes a mean comment? Luffy gets his murder expression and punches that guy to the other side if the city.

You get luffys hat whenever you need emotional support. No questions asked. You get to sit in his favourite spot whenever you want to. You even get the last bite of delicious food if it's what you need.

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nimas-li-kvar · 3 months

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well, why not exactly like south africa? why not like any other arab country where muslims and christians and atheists and hindus live side-by-side just fine? why not like the diverse western nations that finance your state's existence? what exactly about palestinians is so Inherently Evil And Irredeemable (bc that is honestly how you sound) that they would not have the humanity and morality to treat people like people?

it's always the same fear of the day after. white south africans are alive. white american colonisers are fucking thriving. same in australia, in new zealand. immigrants to arab countries lead entire lives there. why not like any of them?

What an exhausting, insulting question... that truly has nothing to do with anything I said. I was speaking about Hamas and leftists who support their aims to dismantle Israel, not the Palestinian people.

I have never said that it’s impossible that Muslims, Christians, Jews, (and Samaritans, Druze, etc.) will live side-by-side. They already do, in Israel. There is discrimination, but they do indeed live side-by-side. What I said was that it will not happen under Hamas rule. Which is an objective fact. The Gaza strip, by the way, is currently 98% Muslim.

I also never said that Palestinians are “inherently evil and irredeemable,” nor did I imply it. You lie in order to paint me, as an Israeli, as hateful. I am not. I spoke only of Hamas. Your conflation of a militant terrorist group with civilians is unfortunate. Hamas has proven time and time again that they do not have the humanity to treat people like people. I said nothing of the Palestinian people.

While I owe you nothing, I'll have you know that I am absolutely in favor of steps towards a peaceful solution and mutual recognition of both nations. I think it is outrageous that there are Palestinian detainees held without charge. I find the number of deaths in Gaza an unacceptable collective punishment. I am supportive of cultural and economic efforts towards reconciliation (e.g., bilingual Arab-Jewish schools and summer camps, joint activism efforts, organizations that promote dialogue and cross-cultural events, shared efforts to help victims of violence, cultural exchange and language learning initiatives). I think the current government is a disaster. I want to see a world where Jews, Christians, and Muslims—and Samaritans, Druze, and Baháʼís—live in peace together in that land. The fact that you saw me saying that Hamas would enact genocide if given the chance (which is true) and interpreted that as me saying Palestinians are “inherently evil” (which I did not say) is truly sad.

The reality is Hamas is not a resistance group. It is an Islamic ultranationalist militaristic dictatorship that has kept its citizens as prisoners by stealing international aid and running military operations to commit war crimes from under schools and hospitals. It is a terrorist group that rapes, murders, and tortures civilians, including children and infants. Peace in the region will not be possible without a demilitarized Gaza. Hamas rule is incompatible with peace. If you support Hamas, you support the violent expulsion or genocide of Israeli Jews from our homeland. You can (and should) be in support of Palestinian self-determination. This belief is also incompatible with support for Hamas. Israeli war crimes do not absolve Hamas's war crimes.

Another thing I find interesting is that you refer to a dismantled Israel as “another Arab country,” and in the same breath claim that Jews would continue to live there. I wonder, was it a coincidence that you failed to list Jews in your list of religions living side-by-side, or are you aware that there are very, very few Jews living in Arab countries today? In case you are unaware, the absence of Jews from the Arabian peninsula, the Mesopotamian region, and North Africa is a result of diasporic Jewish minorities fleeing, being expelled, and/or being ethnically cleansed. Prior to that, they lived with second class status (dhimmis) under Islamic rule. As an Israeli Jew, I cannot set foot in many Arab countries today. Is that your version of coexistence?

And let us be clear: The remaining ethnic minority groups do not live in peace in the Muslim-majority countries of the region. The examples are endless. The genocide of the Yazidis by the Islamic State. The Houthi persecution of Yemenite Jews and Baháʼís. The displaced Christians from the Syrian civil war. The Middle East is rife with examples of radicalized religious extremists being entirely incompatible with coexistence with minority groups.

Yet, in your list of co-existing religions, you picked Hinduism: a minority religion that, while practiced in some Middle Eastern countries, is not indigenous to the region. Perhaps you did this in ignorance. Perhaps it was an attempt to support your point that some immigrants and migrants can indeed lead reasonable lives in Arab countries (e.g., Indian expats in the Emirates or Saudi Arabia), as ethnic minorities with a homeland to return to. Needless to say, it's an irrelevant and feeble attempt to claim that religions currently coexist well in the Muslim-majority countries. As a whole, they do not.

Let's talk about your list of colonizers next. White South Africans being alive has nothing to do with Israel. White people thriving in the USA, Australia, and New Zealand have nothing to do with Israel. Those examples are particularly bizarre anyway, as, excepting South Africa, you’ve picked countries where the colony essentially remained in place and became the ethnic majority. But none of these colonies have anything to do with Israel, because Israel is not a colony.

Jews are indigenous to Israel. We are one of a small number of indigenous Levantine ethnic groups who call that land home. The word colony requires a context we do not have–a colony for what country? What existing country is expanding territory? We are a 4000 year old nation, many of us displaced by the Romans, and who, after 2000 years of oppression and genocide both in the diaspora and in our homeland, won our independence from the occupying force in power at the time: the British. We have nothing to do with European colonizers. You cannot colonize your own homeland.

Again, that does not mean I support the Israeli government or the IDF's actions. I fully believe Palestinians also deserve self-determination in our shared land. Our status does not change the Palestinian story. It does not undo their suffering. The situation in Gaza is untenable and an outrage. Our status does not change the inhumane conditions that Israel, along with other countries (like Egypt) have placed on the population of Gaza.

But Jews being indigenous to the region matters—because the context to understand Israel is not one of colonizer-colonized. Ours is an ethnic conflict in the context independence after a long history of many colonial powers (British, Ottoman, etc.), a wider political context of Arabization and oppression of ethnic/religious minority groups in the entire Middle East, as well as a global context of hatred of Jews and Arabs, and of Western meddling.

It also matters because it highlights the fact that Palestinians are our cousins—both because many Palestinians are likely decedents of Jews, Samaritans, etc. who were Arabized and forcibly converted Islam—but also because the Arabs are our cousins too. It is important to remember that this is an ethnic conflict, and not a situation in which one group can "go home." We have to find a way to coexist. Hamas is not that way.

Is “leading a life,” as you say, enough? Well, we wouldn't be able to, under Hamas. They have made that clear. But even if a Hamas-led state made room for dhimmi-status Jewish Israelis, then no, it would not be enough. (Remember, it is not even enough for many Palestinians who hold Israeli citizenship to live under our state with full rights.) Self-determination is important. Maintenance of language and culture is important. Statehood matters, for both Palestinians and Israelis. I do not believe we are ready for a fully unified state. Perhaps we never will be. But whatever the solution, it is imperative that both people have self-determination in their homeland.

And be it a unified democratic binational state, a single federal government with autonomous cantons/states that govern themselves, a "two states, one homeland" two state confederation, a fully-realized two state solution, or any other solution: the violent—and yes, evil—Hamas regime can play no part.

#israel palestine conflict #israel #palestine #westoid leftoids at it again #leftist antisemitism #jumblr

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yandere-daze · 2 years

Note

I don't know if you want to make this request of mine, but I would be very grateful... How would it be if was Yanderes! Twisted Wonderland (dorm leaders) in love with the same reader?

Ohoho I sure can! Man being in that situation would be so scary, good lord, can you imagine? I guess now you can jsfaönf

I decided to finally feed my twst readers again after starving them for so long. I hope you enjoy!

Likes and reblogs are appreciated!

gn reader

tw yandere, obsession, possessiveness, jealousy, mention of murder, mention of violence, kidnapping/ abduction, manipulation, stalking, emotional manipulation

Yandere! dorm leaders that are in love with the same darling

Okay but this is going to be utter chaos, you just know it. Most of the dorm leaders can barely tolerate each other in the first place without a fight breaking out, then you add them being yandere ( and as such, more unhinged) ,and then to add insult to injury they all like the same person? Yeah, that´s a recipe for disaster

I honestly don´t think any of them are willing to share? They want to have you for themselves without anyone else interfering

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle blows a fuse when he gets wind of this. He already has a harsh temper to begin with but he loses all of his composure when it concerns his darling. Do the other dorm leaders think they can just simply steal you away from him? How utterly unacceptable! He is the most hard-working and flawless student here at Night Raven College so he also deserves your love the most out of everyone here!

He´s honestly so annoyed and angry when he sees one of the others talking to you that he takes out his anger on his poor dorm members that he now collars for the slightest of offenses. It´s like chapter 1 never even happened, his reign of terror is reinstated all at once

And yet at the same time, he would take advantage of the fact that your two closest friends are members of Heartslabyul. You´re bound to want to visit them often to hang out with them, right? So of course it´s only a coincidence that you´ll often find Riddle staying close to their room to greet you and sweep you away when he gets the chance. Of course he wasn´t waiting around for you or anything like that, it´s only natural that he keeps a close eye on those two troublemakers to make sure they don´t get involved in any hijinks again, right? It´s what a responsible dorm leader should do

So while you´re at it, why don´t you join him for a nice cup of tea? He´s told Trey to bake some treats that are just to their liking. So please spend some time with him!

Leona Kingscholar

Leona is one that often doesn´t bother with putting in a lot of effort, simply because he doesn´t think his efforts would ever be rewarded. Why would he give it his all when he knows it´s not going to matter in the end? But this here is different. You´re one of the only people that have shown true understanding for his position as the second-born prince and for once he feels like he needs to try his very best when it comes to winning you over

Leone is no fool, he´s quick to figure out that the other dorm leaders seem to love you in the same obsessed way that he does. It makes him angry to think that anyone else would dare try to stake their claim on you when he´s already decided that you would be his mate. For once in his life, he refuses to play the second fiddle. He wants you and he´s not going to shirk back from using dirty means to get what he wants. He probably orders Ruggie to use his unique magic again to make the other dorm leaders hurt themselves to put them out of commission for long enough to hopefully win you over. If pushed far enough I´m sure Leona wouldn´t hesitate to use King´s roar either. He was so close to killing Ruggie, someone that is actually a big help to him, so why would he ever hold back against his rivals?

Leona is very aware that he needs to fight dirty if he wants to break free from always being in second place

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul is very displeased when he finds out that he isn´t the only one to be harboring feelings for you. It probably took him a lot of time to come to terms with his own “love” for you, not one to freely show his deeper emotions to anyone else, he doesn´t like to feel vulnerable. And yet, whenever he lays eyes on you, Azul feels more vulnerable than ever before. And he finds that he doesn´t hate it as much as he would have thought

But he very much hates his current predicament. All those other fools are head-over-heels for you as well and it makes him more insecure than he would ever admit. Of course he´s primarily upset because he wants you for his own but when he sees the kind of people he needs to compete with ( literal royalty and a celebrity) he can´t help but be caught up in his old insecurities. It makes him want to hide away more than anything but he won´t let himself do that. He knows that you´re meant to be his so he´s not going to ever give up on you

Azul enlists the help of the Leech twins who are more than eager to assist him, if only for their own amusement over the situation. They´ve been given the order to stay around you as much as possible when Azul isn´t able to, to help chase away anyone that might try to approach you. Them being around isn´t enough to stop all of them but their intimidating presence surely has some effect at least. They also tell him any kind of detail about you that they´ve found out about through their tailing.

He tries to get all the information he can about you, both to soothe his craving to know as much about you as he possibly can, but also to know how to entice you into signing a contract that will bind the two of you together forever. Once your fate is sealed, he won´t have to worry about any of the others ever taking you away from him

Kalim Al-Asim

Honestly speaking, Kalim would probably be the only one here not to notice how the other dorm leaders feel about you. He´s a very delusional yandere to begin with, not seeing anything wrong with how intensely he loves you. That´s just a sign of true love, right? Isn´t it just so great that he would do absolutely everything to ensure your “happiness” even if you didn´t ask for anything?

He just goes about courting you like he usually would: showering you with many very expensive but unwanted gifts and clinging to you for as long as he can. It´s just him showing his affection for you so he doesn´t see any reason as to why you might want to reject any of his presents. Do you really have the heart to disappoint someone as nice and sweet as Kalim? Do you want to make him cry? Please just accept whatever invitation he throws your way before things get too difficult

Jamil would likely feel obligated to help Kalim out because he simply can´t handle the other moping around and sobbing all day whenever you express displeasure at staying over for too long or you react negatively to the 5th elephant parade this week. Jamil probably understands why you would feel overwhelmed with all of Kalim´s grandiose shows of affection but he really can´t be bothered to deal with his miserable self for even a second longer. He also fears that his family might be in trouble if it came out that he didn´t help Kalim when it came to winning over his “one true love” so sorry, but he´ll need to prioritize his family´s safety over yours

Unlike Kalim, Jamil would very quickly realize what kind of competition they´re dealing with and would thus function as a sort of enabler for Kalim´s overbearingly clingy tendencies. He knows they need to act quickly before anyone else gets the chance

Wouldn´t it be a good idea for Kalim to introduce you to his parents already as his lover so you can get a wedding prepared for as soon as possible? Kalim would of course jump at the chance and try to seal the deal as soon as possible. He doesn´t see any reason to wait when you both love each other so much!

Vil Schoenheit

Just absolutely unbelievable. Do these potatoes really think they have a chance against him? No one is as beautiful, elegant and skilled as Vil Schoenheit and thus no one is more suited to be with you than him. The moment he had first laid eyes upon you he had decided that you were perfect in every way, inside and out. Vil is usually very strict when it comes to both himself and others but for some unexplainable reason, he felt this pull towards you from the very beginning. Even if logically speaking there is no person without any flaws, he is more than willing to overlook any of yours

You have managed to capture his heart and so you must take responsibility for that by letting him win over yours in return. He´s always made an effort to look the best he can but now he´s spending even more time every day, to improve himself even more, if that is even possible, to draw your attention and impress you. Maybe if he appeals to your preferences you will finally spare him a glance and bless him with your presence

He works so hard every day, which only drives him to be angrier when Rook tells him that he isn´t the only one that has laid their eyes on you. He huffs and shakes his head in dismay with a joyless smile on his face, already contemplating how he is going to deal with this

Vil is an actor so he´s more than capable of acting out whatever kind of person appeals to you the most. If he feels like you might be showing some sort of interest in one of his rivals then he might start to copy some of their mannerisms to hopefully draw your eye again. You only need to look at him, dear! Vil is the most deserving of your love out of all of them. No one else but him could hope to ever come close to your level of perfection, he is the only one that is suited to be with you

If he feels like he needs to ( he feels you slipping away), Vil is also willing to poison his rivals, as we´ve seen with Neige in the main story. He loves you too much to let anyone else have so he´s going to make sure he´s the only one remaining once the curtain falls

Idia Shroud

Idia probably starts noticing that he has some competition when he keeps seeing the other dorm leaders approach you as he is watching you through one of the many cameras he had installed all throughout NRC and your room to be able to look at you at every time of day without leaving the comfort of his room. He might have been able to look past it if it had only been a one-time thing but with the frequency of how often they´ve been seeking you out lately, he knows that something is up

And boy oh boy, Idia is not happy at all when he puts 2 and 2 together. He honestly feels like breaking his pc out of frustration when he sees the others attempt to flirt with you while he can´t even stand face-to-face with you. Idia is cursing his own social ineptitude more than ever before as he has no choice but to curse and grumble as he sees everything unfold in front of him

Idia already thought that he had no chance with you, I mean who would be interested in a weird shut-in like him? It´s the very reason why he had settled for just watching your daily life through all of these cameras instead of trying to strike up a conversation with you. The very thought of standing so close to you already makes him shiver with both excitement and fear

But that doesn´t mean at all that he would let anyone else date you. That´s not how this is going to go! He knows that they´re probably better picks for a boyfriend than he is but he hates the very thought of you being with someone else. Maybe it´s time to jump over his shadow and finally take action

So he decides to start mission “Send out Ortho to lure them into my room and then I´ll never let them leave again”. It definitely isn´t a fool-proof plan but Idia doesn´t want to simply stand by anymore if it means you might be taken from him. He´s sure Ortho is friendly enough to be able to pull it off and then it wouldn´t even matter if you found him disgusting, as long as he kept the electronic locks on his doors shut tight, you wouldn´t be able to leave him any more

Malleus Draconia

Malleus isn´t well-versed in the act of human courting but he´s intelligent enough to pick up on the way his fellow dorm leaders look at you. They look at you the same way he does: lovesick and full of desire to become your significant other. And this just isn´t something Malleus would stand for. As a draconic fae, he´s just as possessive with his darling as were the dragons that would hide away their treasures from the rest of the world. Once he has his eyes on you, he´s not going to let up until you´re completely his for all of eternity

He never thought he would find the one that was destined to be with him at this very school but it nevertheless happened. You were the first person not to fear him and to genuinely call him a friend, something that filled Malleus with happiness like nothing before. Nowadays he feels a bitter feeling pool up inside of him whenever you call him a mere friend, but the original point still stands. You were the first person that treated him as a regular fellow student and because of that he quickly grew attached to you, his own very special human

So he´s very angry ,to say the least when he figures out that he isn´t the only one laying claim to your heart. He´s so enraged in fact, that he needs to be held back by the rest of Diasomnia or he would have ended up just killing all of his rivals with the help of his powerful magic. Malleus truly knows no mercy when it comes to having you all for himself. He won´t let any of them look at you for even a second longer.

If he isn´t allowed to just get rid of everyone else because it might start a major conflict between all of their nations, he simply has to take you away from Night Raven College to somewhere only he has access to. If he were to lock you into a high tower, far away from any kind of civilization, then no one else would be able to speak to you ever again. It would only be you and Malleus. Isn´t that just wonderful?

Of course Malleus is going to make sure to visit you as often as he can so please don´t look so sad, alright? You don´t need any of your so-called “friends” anymore, you have him now! He´s not going to let anyone interfere with your relationship ever again

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hrizantemy · 18 days

Text

Amren warned, “Don’t you say one more fucking word, Nesta Archeron.”

Amren to Nesta chapter 46

Feyre breathed, “Madja just said the labor would be risky. But the Bone Carver ... The son he showed me didn’t have wings.”

Feyre speaking about her son chapter 46

“I don’t know,” Nesta said. “But I do know that your mate ordered everyone not to inform you of the truth.”

Nesta speaking to Feyre chapter 46

Rhys said in that voice that was like hell embodied, “Nesta saw fit to inform Feyre of the risk to her and the babe.”

Rhysand speaking to Cassian chapter 47

Rhys held his stare, and it was all Cassian could do to weather it as his brother, his High Lord said, “Get Nesta out of this city. Right now.” Rhys’s power rumbled in the room like a rising storm. “Before I fucking kill her.”

Rhysand speaking to Cassian chapter 47

“Well, we’re furious with Nesta.”

“She had the courage to tell me the truth.”

“She told you the truth to hurt you.”

“Perhaps. But she was the only one who said anything.”

Cassian sighed through his nose. “She ...” He thought it over. I think she saw the parallels between your situations and, in her own way, decided to avenge both of you.”

“That’s my feeling, too. Rhys disagrees.”

“I wish you’d found out a different way.”

“Well, I didn’t. But we’ll face it together. All of us.”

“How can you be so calm about this?”

“The alternative is fear and panic. I will not let my son feel those things. I will fight for him, for us, until I no longer can.”

Cassian’s throat tightened. “We’ll fight for you, too.”

“I know. Feyre paused again. Rhys had no right to chase you from the city, or to threaten Nesta. He has realized that, and apologized. I want you to come back home. Both of you. Where did you even head off to?”

“The wilderness.”

Cassian looked over a shoulder, to where Nesta had been asleep for the past few hours, curled into a tight ball against the wall of rock.

“I think we’ll stay out here for a few days. We’re going to hike.”

“Nesta has never been on a hike in her life. I guarantee she will hate it.”

“Then tell Rhys this is her punishment. Because Rhys, despite apologizing for his threats, would still be furious. Tell him that Nesta and I are going to hike, and she’s going to hate it, but she comes home when I decide she’s ready to come home.”

Feyre was quiet for a long minute. “He says that he knows he’s supposed to say that’s unnecessary, but to tell you he’s secretly delighted.”

“Good. I am secretly glad to hear that.”

Feyre laughed, and the sound was proof that she might have been hurt, startled by the news, but she was indeed adapting to it. Would not let it make her cower and cry. He didn’t know why he’d expected any less of her.

Cassian and Feyre speaking in chapter 47

These are quotes from “A Court of Silver Flames”

These quotes from the text illustrate several reasons why it is not okay to hide a pregnancy and then threaten and punish someone who reveals the truth.

Feyre, as the pregnant individual, has a right to know about any risks or complications associated with her pregnancy. By withholding this information from her, Feyre's mate, Rhys, and others involved denied her the opportunity to make informed decisions about her own health and the health of her baby.

Concealing important information about pregnancy risks from Feyre constitutes a betrayal of trust by those who knew but chose not to inform her. Pregnancy is a significant and potentially dangerous experience, and Feyre deserved to be supported and informed by her loved ones rather than kept in the dark.

Threatening Nesta for revealing the truth further compounds the wrongdoing. Threats of violence, especially from someone in a position of power like Rhys, are completely unacceptable and demonstrate a lack of respect for Nesta's agency and well-being.

By hiding the truth and then threatening Nesta, Rhys and others involved exerted control over the situation and attempted to manipulate Feyre's perception of reality. This manipulation undermines Feyre's autonomy and agency and demonstrates a disregard for her well-being and right to make informed decisions about her own body and pregnancy.

Hiding a pregnancy, threatening those who reveal the truth, and manipulating the pregnant individual's perception of reality are all forms of abuse and violation of trust. Pregnant individuals deserve to be treated with respect, honesty, and support, and any actions to the contrary are unacceptable.

This highlights several problematic aspects of the situation, particularly regarding the treatment of Nesta and the handling of the pregnancy revelation.

It's concerning that Nesta is being blamed and punished for her actions in revealing the truth about Feyre's pregnancy. While Nesta's motivations may have been complex, punishing her for speaking up undermines her agency and perpetuates a cycle of conflict and resentment within the family.

Rhys's initial reaction of threatening Nesta and then later apologizing does not absolve him of responsibility for his actions. Threats and coercion have no place in healthy relationships, and using them to control or intimidate others is unacceptable behavior.

Instead of offering support and understanding to Nesta, Feyre and Cassian are complicit in her punishment by agreeing to keep her away from the city and forcing her to hike as a form of punishment. This lack of empathy and support only serves to further isolate and alienate Nesta.

Effective communication and conflict resolution are essential for maintaining healthy relationships. Rather than resorting to punishment and coercion, Feyre, Rhys, and the others involved should have engaged in open dialogue to address the situation, express their feelings, and work towards understanding and reconciliation.

Overall, the treatment of Nesta in this excerpt highlights the need for empathy, understanding, and constructive communication within relationships. Punishing Nesta and Feyre for their actions only perpetuates resentment and division within the family.

#anti acosf #anti acotar #anti feysand #anti inner circle #anti rhysand #anti cassian #anti azriel #anti amren #anti morrigan #anti nessian #pro nesta #sjm critical #nesta archeron deserves better

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caffeinewitchcraft · 2 years

Text

The Aftermath of the Chosen One

Summary: Dulce is a Hero. The people who made her one better hope they never see her again. TW: mentions of violence, ptsd, panic attacks

------------.

She is a villain when the adventure is over. It creeps up on her slowly. The shortened temper, the unnatural laughter, the darting eyes. She looks up at the corners of rooms for demon bats that don’t exist in this world and claws at her own flesh when she doesn’t find them.

Her companions come find her six months afterwards.

What does it look like, a prince and a knight and a mage walking into a McDonald’s? It’s 1 am, closing time, when she finds out.

“Dulce!” Prince Amor clanks through the fronts doors. He’s wearing the Royal Armor, the set that seems to glow from within with the Holy Light of his Blessed Ancestors. The crown on his head is as gold as his eyes. Everything about him looks fake under the artificial dining room lights, but he doesn’t notice. His golden eyes are locked on her. “At last, we’ve found you!”

She’s covered in a fine mist of oil, slashes of burns from the heat lamps marching up her arms. Her black pants are grey under a dusting of spilled flour and she knows her short, brown hair is frizzed up after her eight hour shift. She blinks at the three walking into the dining room and can’t find the words.

“I told you I’d find her,” Mage Kira says proudly. Her black dress looks like it belongs in a gothic version of the Nutcracker. She waves her flowering wand over her head. “Dulce’s magic has always been so distinctive, I knew it would be easy to find her in the Mundane World!”

Mundane world, Dulce thinks. That’s what they think of Earth. Mundane. Run-of-the-mill.

Not special.

Not worthy.

Dulce’s stomach cramps so badly that she sways on the spot. Why did she send the other girl home? Things would be so much easier if she had another human here.

Knight Cora frowns, taking everything in. “Friend Dulce. Are you…well?”

“What are you doing here?” Dulce croaks. She feels like she can hear the howling rabbits or the demon wolves she once fought surrounding the building. She taps her ears with the heels of her hands. The percussion of it clears her head better than any mindful meditation. “Alone?”

“Those unfortunate matters you helped us with have been cleared up,” Prince Amor says. He clanks right up to the register and grins down at Dulce. “You saved my kingdom. I thought it a good idea to come share thanks once again.”

Thanks? Thanks? She says, “You couldn’t have gotten permission to come through the portal.” The portal is run by wizards and wizards are notoriously strict about who comes and goes through the Destiny Portal.

“We did,” Knight Cora says. She at least has had the good sense to try and find mundane clothes. Her soft, linen shirt is slightly less offensive to Dulce’s tired eyes than Prince Amor’s gleaming armor. “A lot of things had to align for the timing to be right, but such is the nature of magic.” She leans forward. “Dulce, I’m familiar with these establishments. Do you…work here?”

Mage Kira gasps and her head whips around. “No, surely not! Here? Work? A Hero works here?”

And that grates. Dulce feels her shock like nails down her spine. “Why is that so hard to believe?”

“I’ve seen you skin a hydra with nothing but a fruit knife,” Knight Cora says. She waves a hand around the room. “This is akin to working as a tavern maid.”

Prince Amor rocks back on his heels. “Surely not! Why that’s unacceptable—”

“Why?” Dulce feels disconnected from her body. “Why? Why is this unacceptable?”

Knight Cora waves her hands at Dulce. “You’re a warrior! A Hero! Surely you must know that you deserve better than this?”

Better? Dulce shakes her head. “Leave.” Her throat feels dry. The phantom howls of demons baying for her blood rings in her ears. “Leave, out, get out--!”

The trio exclaim as she rushes around the counter towards them. For a moment, Dulce forgets that she’s in her work uniform, a black apron tied around her waist rather than a sword. She’s so angry that she imagines herself in full armor, her hair bound along the nape of her neck, her hand reaching for her blade—

Knight Cora catches Dulce’s empty hand before she can strike Prince Amor.

“I killed people for you,” Dulce says. The warmth of Knight Cora’s hand against her wrist is more shocking than the strength behind her grip. Dulce’s adventure left her changed forever in more ways than one. The strength that world blessed her with is another reason she no longer fits in here. “Is killing a more noble profession? Is murder better than serving food?”

“They were demons!” Prince Amor looks at Dulce’s fist caught in Knight Cora’s grip and frowns. “Friend Dulce, are you unwell?”

“Maybe she’s possessed,” Mage Kira says. She raises her wand and the flowers tied to the tip glow. “A simple diagnostic spell should—”

Dulce rips away from Knight Cora with a snarl. “Do not cast magic on me. I do not give you permission.”

Prince Amor raises his hands. “It is only to ascertain your state—”

“I’m not possessed!” Dulce laughs and it’s a bitter sound. She looks between these three, these three who guided her through their world and put her into battle again and again. She looks at them and is back there, sword dropping from her hand as the demons screamed. “I want you to leave. It was supposed to be over when I killed the Demon King for you. It was supposed to be over.”

It's so unfair. The person she’s become—she became this person for them. Because of them. They told her their fight was just. They told her she was saving them. They told her so many things. She believed them.

Damn her, she believed them.

“You…didn’t want to see us again?” Knight Cora asks. Her face is pale and her eyes wide. She stretches out a hand to Dulce and then retracts it, hurt. “After all we went through, after the adventures we shared, after—” She wavers, unable to speak for a moment. When she recovers, she whispers, “Dulce, we’re family.”

“We’re not family,” Dulce spits. She’s shaking. With rage? With fear? With the memory of the Demon King’s blood hot on her hands? “The worst thing I’ve ever done, I did for you three. The blood on my hands—I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have done it.”

And there it is. The awful truth. She lets the words shake her to her bones. I shouldn’t have done it. It wasn’t her world, her fight, her place. She took a weapon into her hands and she didn’t get all the facts before she acted. She was threatened, yes. They were her only way back home. But she still acted.

And now the blood is on her hands.

“I will never be the same,” Dulce says. She means that she is less than. That she is broken. That she is an abomination. “I feel as though I can’t live with what I’ve done.”

“The burdens we all bear from our battle—” Mage Kira starts to say only to fall silent as Dulce laughs.

“It wasn’t my world!” Dulce doesn’t know how to describe the horror of that. “I don’t know who I am anymore. A Hero? No, because I didn’t save anyone, did I? I just filled your country’s pockets with money and destroyed homes. I—I am a monster because of it. Because of you.”

“You save my kingdom,” Prince Amor says. His jaw clenches and unclenches. “You claim to carry evils, but that is not true. You did what was right. You saved—”

“The children cried when I killed their king,” Dulce says. That moment is as clear to her now as the day it happened. The skies so clear and blue overhead. A sword in her hand. A body at her feet. The howls – no, the wails – of a people devastated by the death of their ruler. “The magic crumbled. The castle fell apart around their ears.” She turns on the Prince. “Your kingdom was saved? But what of theirs?”

“They were demons. We told you, the demonic are parasites—"

“Where could the dryads go when you burned their forests?” She advances on them again and, this time, Knight Cora does not stop her. She steps. They step back. “Where could the nymphs go when you siphoned their lakes? Where could the dwarves go when you stole their mines?”

“It was for the prosperity of the kingdom—”

“IT WAS FOR NOTHING!” Dulce doesn’t flinch when a light shatters above their heads. Her power claws at her skin, desperate to be used. The magic suppressor around her ankle heats in warning. “You made me a monster for nothing. For greed and disgusting self-indulgence. You falsified a prophecy for sport and then dare show up here and call me a Hero?”

Mage Kira steps in front of the other two, her eyes alight with power. “Dulce, I don’t know who has corrupted you, but we’re your friends! Stop this magic at once.”

“I can’t use magic here,” Dulce says. She lifts the leg of her khakis to show the anklet. “The Magic Tower bound me.” She bares her teeth as the remaining lights tremble under the weight of her aura. “No need to be afraid.”

“Why would they do that?” Mage Kira asks. She seems to forget the situation entirely, the horror of bound magic overwhelming her. “You’re a Chosen One, a Hero—”

“I wasn’t supposed to ever see you again,” Dulce says. She barely recognizes her own voice. Before when she said these words, she sounded wounded. Scared. Now she sounds mocking. Contemptuous. “They promised me it was over. That you would never come through the Portal of Destiny again.” Her lip curls. “And neither would I.”

What does it look like when a prince, a mage, and a knight walk into a McDonalds? What does it look like when they meet a sister, a comrade, a Hero? What does it look like when they realize not everyone believes their narrative, their lies, their convenient untruths?

Prince Amor lays a hand on his sword. “I consider you a friend, Dulce. We traveled together and fought together. I know not who has poisoned your mind against us, but we shall save you.” He glances at the other two through his peripherals. “We must take her back to our world. Our healers can—”

“I can’t go with you.”

Knight Cora reaches out a hand towards her as if offering salvation. “Dulce, the prince is right. The feelings you’re having are unnatural. You may feel that you can’t come with us, but you must.”

“Not won’t.” Dulce jabs a finger to her anklet. “Can’t.”

“The wizards have barred you from the Destiny Portal?” Mage Kira is the first to realize what she means. “But they must have known that you’ve been corrupted—”

“I tried to go back to kill you,” she tells Prince Amor. She lets the confession ring in the silence for a long, long moment. “That’s why they prevented me from returning. Because once I realized what you had done to me, to those poor people, I tried to go back to slit your throats like I should have when you first called me Hero.”

The three of them stare at her, unable or unwilling to understand. She feels her magic swirling faster and faster inside of her chest. Outside the restaurant, a car alarm blares. The air trembles. A table behind Knight Cora tips over, causing all three of them to jump.

Dulce grits her teeth and wills her magic to behave.

“You Chose me,” Dulce says. She sneers the word. Chose. “You used me for evil. You destroyed me with it. I came back from your world broken. So I decided to atone with your deaths. The wizards stopped me. They promised me that it was over. They promised me that I didn’t need to atone for what the Prophecy made me do. Then, when they realized I didn’t believe them, they bound me. To protect you.”

She hears the demons screaming louder and louder. There’s pressure building in her head. The worst thing she’s ever done, she did for them. She did it on a sunny day. She did it in the time it takes her to flip a burger. And they dare come here and tell her she deserves better.

Thunder rumbles in the distance.

“Dulce,” Prince Amor finally says. No longer Friend Dulce. Only her name and a growing horror in his eyes. “Dulce, no. Someone had whispered these evils in your ear. You—surely not—”

“Leave,” Dulce says. This time her voice rings with magic. A command. “The laws in my mundane world are different than you know. The wizards have stopped me from harming you in your world. Mine won’t stop me.”

Knight Cora opens her mouth just as lightning crashes outside. She casts a fearful look out the windows and back to Dulce. She says, “We did nothing to you.”

“You did everything to me,” Dulce says. She points to the door. “Leave.”

Thunder shakes the building.

“I’ll save you,” Prince Amor blurts out. The two women pull and push him towards the door. He twists as he shouts, “Whatever sorcery this is, we will save you from it!”

The wind howls through the doors when Knight Cora throws them open. Rain pounds down, slamming into the street with real force. Mage Kira throws a magical shield over them all, but it doesn’t keep them dry. The rain falls through the shield as if it’s not even there.

Stay safe, Dulce mouths at her. Mage Kira is the only one who looks truly afraid before they dart away into the night.

Dulce stands in the same spot and breathes. She stares at the walls and the tables and the chairs until she forgets what it looks like when a knight, a prince, and a mage walk into a McDonalds. She’s here. She’s not there.

With any luck, they make it back through the Portal of Destiny before she remembers that they’re here too.

Dulce goes to get a broom. The glass from the shattered light won’t sweep itself.

-----------

A little bit of a darker story for y’all this week. I’ve been struggling with some of what Dulce’s been struggling with lately and it was so cathartic to write a character who is angry and stays angry. Who looks at the people who didn’t help her at her darkest point - who exacerbated her darkest point in some ways - and tells them to run. It’s a bit of a darker story, for sure, but nonetheless one I feel closely connected to in a lot of ways.

If you’d like to support my writing, please consider checking out my Patreon (X). I post there a full week before I post stories here and include 1 extra, patreon-exclusive story per month.

Next week’s story comes from my Narrative Town (X) universe:

Summary: It's a Rule not to get involved in grown-up stories. But when your parents' lives are in danger, even you will break a Rule.

It’s up on Patreon now and will be here next week :)

Thanks for reading!

#My writing #the chosen one #dulce the anti-chosen one #dark character #ptsd

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somekindofcontraption · 5 months

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"Acceptable Violence" in OFMD Season 2: deconstructing violence within the context of the show's parameters

I've been doing a lot of thinking about violence and the second season of Our Flag Means Death. I've come to some conclusions that I would like to share, but I would like to preface my thoughts with a disclaimer or two:

I did not like the second season, for myriad reasons, some of which I will outline here. But I am not here to attack you if you liked the season. I am not here to make commentary on who you are as a person or your personal taste if you liked the season. My not liking the season does not mean you can't like the season. In short: my dislike of the season is not about you at all! Also, this is not an academic paper. Which doesn't mean I might not do that in the future, but for now this is just an assembly of analysis and thoughts. If you do not care to read analytical criticism of something you deeply enjoyed? I invited you to scroll onward. If you liked the second season but would like to hear some of the reasons why many, including myself, didn't - carry on! The rest is under the cut.

The first season of Our Flag Means Death dips its toes into the world of piracy by following the unfolding story of Stede Bonnet, the newly minted former aristocrat-turned-pirate who dreams of a new sort of piracy; a gentler, more polite means of pirating. Things, as they said, did not go according to plan. The first season does an excellent job of laying the complex groundwork for an in-world set of principles which tell us what sort of violence is "normal" or "acceptable" in the context of the show and what isn't. (Please assume from here on out that when I say acceptable and normal the "quotes" are implied, as I am not talking about what is acceptable and normal in real life.) It does this through narrative framing, by softening more intense instances of violence through comedy and by pushing it off-screen, and by establishing who is a good guy and who is Not. Unacceptable: Stede Bonnet getting beat on, tied up, and bullied by the Badmintons and their ilk as a child. He's soft and likes flowers! He's got a mean dad! No one likes bullies! It's framed as a negative, it's not super funny (the camera cuts to Stede's face both in the past and present looking distressed, and Stede is the hero, so this can be generally accepted as bad.) This leads us to: Acceptable: Badminton getting whacked over the head and falling on his own sword. This I would categorize as what people have been referring to as "looney tune violence." He was a bully! He's part of a colonial navy! He was being absolutely horrible to Stede! It's funny that Stede is so inept!

Stede feels guilty about it, it causes him trauma, but that trauma is treated, quite often, comedically (see Badminton's "ghost" taunting him, characters treatment of his breakdown, etc). The context clues for whether or not this is acceptable violence are baked right into the writing, too. Oluwande says - claiming that Stede killed Badminton on purpose would gain him the respect of his crew. This is violence that in-world is both acceptable, expected, and also respected for the captain of a pirate ship. (See also: Murdering and/or tying up the remaining British navy crew and putting them through the same thing Stede went through. It's framed as triumphant, Stede having been vindicated, the crew celebrating it as a victory.) Unacceptable: Stede's concept of "soft piracy" of course comes crashing down when his whimsical attempt to woo the Spanish navy is cut short by his getting gut-stabbed.

Stede and the crew are being framed as the heroes of the story and the Spaniards are framed as the bad guys; this setup is why this violence, while totally within the realms of something our crew would do, is categorized as unacceptable. It's also important to note, however, that while it could have been quite a bit more graphic and disturbing if shot differently, the swelling symphony, the comedic cuts of the Spaniards triumphantly getting their ass kicked, softens the blow. Other acceptable instances of violence: The snail fork - horrifying if you think about it, but the narrative softens the blow. The guy was just really racist, giving us a sense of vindictive pleasure, and the violence is all off-screen (we don't actually have to see someone getting skinned with a snail fork). The French ship - again, horrifying if you think too much about people trapped on a burning ship in the middle of the ocean. But, they had all just been huge racist shit-heads who had harmed our heroes. In the context of the narrative, it is framed as being justified. We also don't actually see anyone burning to death, and we get a very funny shot of Ed looking at Stede in awe, and Stede looking very please with himself, confirming in-narrative that this was okay. Other unacceptable instances of violence:

Karl the bird - Jack is framed as an antagonist; he comes between Ed and Stede, obstructing the narrative subplot. Buttons, and by extension Karl, are part of the crew, the heroes. When Karl dies Buttons is devastated, everyone looks uncomfortable, and it's the last straw for Stede to kick Jack off the ship. Plus, there's the an "innocent character" thing similar to Stede as a child getting bullied; Karl was an animal, with no defenses, who did nothing wrong.

Finally, of course, we arrive at the moment that Lucius is pushed from the ship. Unacceptable: By all accounts, pushing people from ships is probably not outside the realm of things that pirates Definitely Do. But here we have another great instance of framing heroes and bad guys. In this case, we have a hero (Ed), seemingly killing another hero (Lucius), who was not only just trying to help him, but was absolutely not expecting violence. We also have a "death" that happened off-screen. We don't see Lucius "drowning." Had Lucius actually died, I think this would have been horrifying. Narratively and thematically, it would not have fit into the spirit of the show, because you could no longer frame Ed as a hero. There would be no real way that I can see to meaningfully redeem him in the context of a comedy, even a "black comedy" (which I do not believe OFMD is). And genuinely, I don't know anyone who thought Lucius was actually dead, so while what Ed did was horrible and awful and needed to be atoned for, it wasn't Final. It wasn't Irredeemable. He didn't become a capital v Villain. The rules of the first season made sense to me. Everything that happened fit narratively, was thematically appropriate, and established a certain set of rules and conventions to follow. It gets dark, and it does push the envelope of what I could bear in a "romantic comedy." Ed cutting off Izzy's toe is tempered (cutting off his littlest toe with a comedically large pair of scissors) but feeding them to him is disturbing. Izzy was an antagonist, not a villain, so giving him treatment reserved for, say, the British navy characters, and doing so graphically and on-screen, was A Lot. This coming from me, who really, REALLY hated Izzy at this point in time. But I think there was an underlying sense of hope that things would improve, resolve, and move forward through character growth and narrative. Stede was coming back to make amends; maybe Ed would find his way back to normalcy, and they'd meet in the middle. It was expected that apologies would be made and Ed could come back from the unacceptable things he did to Lucius, to the Crew, and to Izzy especially. That there would be character and interpersonal growth for them.

Unfortunately, the second season is where the show's parameters around acceptable and unacceptable violence absolutely falls apart. It's never quite clear why something is acceptable vs not, and we never see the character and interpersonal growth "promised" by the narrative which would redeem the dark tonal shift and veer the story back towards comedy. In order for Ed to be redeemed, the violence being framed as unacceptable during his Kraken era could not be so unacceptable that it crosses the line into irredeemable. Ed could not cross the line in the minds of the audience from "hero" to "villain." But the first three episodes of the season... were dark. They crossed the line. It felt like a character assassination to me. Ed's abuse of the crew, the continued maiming of Izzy (who at this point is hurdling into a sympathetic character arc of growth and redemption,) the self-harm, the attempted murder-suicide of his crew... most of it was on-screen, not at all tempered by comedy, and brutal. It wasn't heroes vs villains, it was supposed hero causing extensive harm and trauma to other heroes. The writing in these episodes were narratively cohesive and well-paced. They were not, however, thematically appropriate to a romantic comedy. At this point in the season I still felt like it was building towards a breaking point where Ed would come back to himself, where character growth would be achieved, and amends would be made. I was willing to hold tight.

But it didn't work in terms of the story that was setup in season one. It would have taken an incredible amount of character growth to even begin to come back from that; but I trusted the narrative to deliver. However, the real problem is that this season tried to rewrite the in-show parameters of what constitutes acceptable violence in ways that are uncomfortable and contrary to reality in ways that I find harmful. (I will be clear, in reference to recent discourse, I do feel the head-butt was comedic. It was looney tunes violence, it was well within the context of a romantic comedy, and it worked for me tonally, even though it's obviously not appropriate in real life.) Ed's chair throwing in the context of a man who had spent three episodes inflicting increasingly terrible domestic violence on people who loved and cared for him, who stuck by him -- in the larger context of him doing all this just because he felt rejected by a romantic partner -- is presented as in-show acceptable violence. It's presented as falling within the parameters. Proof? We are expected to still like Ed, and root for Ed, and want Ed to get better, and cheer for the romantic pairing "getting back together," and everything else. He is still presented as a hero. Sure, the show is telling us that what Ed did in his Kraken era is bad; but not so Bad that we shouldn't forgive him for it when he has made no real move to make amends for what he did. Like the crew, and Izzy specifically, we are meant to simply... move forward. That line about "getting away with it" without consequences I thought was a commentary on how Ed would not get to do that, actually was just... what happened. The season also wants me to believe that in the in-show parameters that Ed would hurt absolutely anybody but DEFINITELY NOT Stede, because Stede is his ultra super special soul mate and he would never do him any harm. This is not how things work in real life, and it is not a disbelief I am willing to suspend uncritically. Do I believe Ed, in the context of the show, would hurt Stede? Nope. I think it's more likely Stede would hurt Ed than the other way around. But I don't like the message that this in-show parameter sends, about how violence, particularly DV, is inflicted. I don't like being told that there is a super special person that this person who has abused others won't hurt. It's a bad message, and bad writing, and bad in-show precedence to set.

I'm not going to say all this without mentioning the stereotypes surrounding men of color, particular Indigenous men, which paints them as abusers. These stereotypes have been mentioned in regards to people talking about Ed's abuse this season. It's important to examine and be critical of oneself as a white person, and look long and hard at these biases. I don't want to fall into the trap of racist biases, and I don't want it to go unmentioned. I have thought long and hard about this. I've done a lot of self-examination on the subject of Ed and abuse. It has brought me back to my point of character assassination; I think the show fell into those stereotypes itself. I think Ed's characterization this season was problematic, and a disservice to the character as laid out in season one, and that's a big part of my disappointment with this season. (I also have a lot of thoughts on how Stede's character, who has been handed an immense amount of power over Ed and his agency as a character, is also extremely problematic. I will get into that in another post; it needs its own. So I'm not here to say Stede himself is not a Problem because he absolutely is and I will shout it from the rooftops.) "But somekindofcontraption," you say! "Ed has trauma!" Yes. That is very true. And it certainly explains some things, but as in real life, it absolutely does not excuse them. Ed's narrative was all about the perpetuation of trauma, particularly generational trauma, with absolutely no criticism or breakage of this cycle in any meaningful or productive way. It set up the story and did no work to resolve it. Ed was simply fixed because he and Stede said I love you and kissed a few times. The romance's "resolution" was unearned and unsatisfying. Neither Stede nor Ed were held accountable for what they did.

Then there was Izzy, who spent the whole of his arc being redeemed, moving forward as a character. He was the only character, I would say, with any meaningful growth. He's also the only one whose story was explicitly about being queer and queer discovery, rather than queerness merely being and incidental part of it. He's the only one who shows any accountability. Right up until the point that he died, his story was the best-written out of all of them. Then he dies. Izzy's death, and the ways that tonally it does not fit into the narrative, is another post onto itself. For now, I'll leave you with all of these rambling thoughts, condensed down as best I could into this tumblr post. If you have any further thoughts, I would love to hear them in good faith. For now, I say, that it's okay to be disappointed. This story was so meaningful to so many, and to be so thoroughly let down is hard. Grief is grief. Take care out there, and be kind to yourself, and be kind to those that are grieving.

#ofmd #ofmd spoilers #ofmd season 2 #ofmd critical #ofmd meta #ofmd analysis

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xleepyzs · 3 months

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About your most recent headcanons about Yandere yuji and sukuna sharing The reader, how do you think they’d react if one of them accidentally killed the reader during a punishment?

If you don’t want to answer this that’s fine, I don’t know what your rules are on this kind of thing. Have a good day/night and don’t forget to drink some water!

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐘𝐮𝐮𝐣𝐢, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐩𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭?

⌗ 𝐀/𝐍 :: Thank you, if you're wondering what I don't do, I don't do smut or angst (because i'm bad at it ☠️), also my works are mostly headcanons, so consider requesting me to do headcanons, the max limit is two characters. Btw, reader is gender neutral in here

⌗ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 :: Ryomen, Sukuna, and Itadori, Yuuji

⌗ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 :: Dark content/Yandere

⌗ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Yandere stuff, violence mentioned

⌗ 𝐘𝐮𝐮𝐣𝐢 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭

Yuuji would stay silent to hear if your heart beat but if not. He'll PANIC!!! He shakes your thin and frail body due to the fact Yuuji starves you to the brink of death as a punishment.

Sukuna on the other hand, would be silence, letting his host (Yuuji) try to wake you up. But if you aren't waking up at all. Sukuna would put the blame on Yuuji, and then Yuuji would blame on Sukuna. Basically, they'd argue and point fingers on who kill you. (News flash, both of them but mostly Sukuna due how brutal and unusual punishments he inflicted on you.)

— (𝐒𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨 𝟏) 𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐘𝐮𝐮𝐣𝐢'𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲

— It was awfully quiet, Sukuna looks down on your thin body that's on the cold concrete floor. He gently kicks your body to wake you up.

"Wake up." Sukuna's demanding voice echoes through the empty room that Yuuji and Sukuna puts you in when you're disobedient and rebelling. All he got was silence, then Sukuna shakes your body but you didn't respond to it.

Then once he grabs your chin to see if you're awake. But you weren't, Sukuna never felt many emotions before, he can identify one emotion that seems to be bugging him, gulit? He doesn't understand, he never find himself attached to you, so why he's feeling guilty now?

Yuuji then spoke up in his mind,

"Sukuna, I told you not to go harsh on them! See, now look what you did!" Yuuji exclaims inside his head,

"S-shut up." Sukuna stutters, but NEVER thought he will ever stutter in his entire life. Because stutter means that he's nervous or scared. He is powerful, but what does he have to fear for? But deep inside, he's actually scared that he might've kill you during the punishment. Now Sukuna is awfully silent while trying to shake your body to wake you up because this is unacceptable for HIM, and Yuuji...

— (𝐒𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨 𝟐) 𝐘𝐮𝐮𝐣𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲

— Yuuji walks in the room that you were tied to the chain with, checking you up if you're okay. Once he walked in, he could see your frail and skinny body laying down on the cold concrete floor, no signs of moving at all. Out of worry, he walks towards you and turns your body to face him.

"Hey, Y/n, are you okay?" Yuuji asked, now worried if he starved you to almost the brink of death as a punishment to the point you actually died of starvation. But you never responded which increases his worry for you, he doesn't want to acknowledge the fact you might be dead, no. Just no.

"You starved them to death, what the fuck?!" Sukuna exclaims out loud inside Yuuji's head which made Yuuji's anxiety increased.

"They're not dead, Sukuna. Perhaps they're tired and needed lots of sleep!" Yuuji responded to Sukuna's question with uncertainty, that uncertain tone of voice made Sukuna now more mad.

"And I thought you'd never kill anyone. What happened to that?" Sukuna sarcastically says inside Yuuji's head, despite the sarcasm, Sukuna is actually pissed off now because Yuuji accidentally starved you to death which his original plan is to starve you TO ALMOST the brink of death.

Yuuji doesn't give up, he continues to shake your body and hope that you wake up which you never do.

⌗ 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐡

Realizing that they both killed you, they would DESPISE each other, and I mean despise each other to the point they would try killing each other as a form of revenge.

I don't think neither of them would never take the blame the fact they killed you on accident. Perhaps they're delusional or just hella prideful.

#🔖 : xleepy #jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #yandere sukuna and yuuji #yandere ryomen sukuna #yandere itadori yuuji #yandere jjk headcanons

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onigiriico · 1 year

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Fuuta audio drama (t2) - English TL

[ links: Spotify | YT Music ]

WELL THIS SURE WAS. AN EXPERIENCE. I’m pretty sure this is the fastest I have translated a vd since Mikoto’s & that speaks for itself tbh lol

As always, if you spot any mistranslations, have questions about specific lines, want to use this translation for something, etc., feel free to send me an ask or reach out to me on Twitter and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can!

⬇️ translation under the cut ⬇️

(door opens)

F: Hmph. Took your sweet time, Warden.

E: Fuuta… you… (sits down) Are you okay? That… does it hurt?

F: What, you’re interested in this injury? (laughs) Looks nasty, doesn’t it?

E: (noise of agreement)

F: Even now, my whole body still hurts so bad I can’t stand it… I feel like I’m gonna lose my mind. If old man Kazui hadn’t been there, this wouldn’t have been the end of it. Geez, people who resort to violence are the worst, aren’t they?

E: Yeah. Trying to resolve conflict through violence is unacceptable.

F: Is that so?

E: That’s… Kotoko did that, right?

F: Huh? You sure seem interested. You were the one who allowed her to do that, weren’t you?

E: No, that’s—

F; Are you satisfied? Since you decided not to forgive me. (laughs) Are you satisfied, dishing out punishments that are easy to understand?

E: That’s wrong…!

F: Huh?

E: I didn’t wish for you to get a punishment like this! And I didn’t instruct Kotoko to do that, either. Punishments executed through violence…

F: Huh…

E: I didn’t think it would turn out this way.

F: (laughs)

E: What’s so funny?

F: Big words. You did want this – this. Me looking like this

E: You’re wrong! Finding out why you all became murderers and figuring out how to judge you – that’s all I’m looking to do—

F: Hey. Look at me. My right eye. It looks awful, doesn’t it? This is what happens when you get stepped on with those safety boot-like shoes. – Don’t recoil like that, that’s hurtful. According to Shidou, it’s likely that I won’t ever be able to see [with this eye] again. Sucks, huh.

E: I didn’t—

F: “I didn’t want that to happen,” is it? But y’know, thanks to this pain, I finally figured out what the whole deal about Milgram is.

E: What do you mean?

F: I mean, you forgave Kotoko, right? You affirmed her, right? Her belief that “it’s fine to do whatever to people who have done something wrong”.

E: How do you know about that…?

F: She told me while she was beating me up. How she thinks it’s okay for her to do anything she wants to people who have done wrong, no matter the severity of their crime. And she left the judgment of that up to you.

E: …

F: You forgave her for feeling that way. You–

E: It’s true that I got a bad feeling about that side of her. When she said there are times where it’s necessary to stand up as justice against evil… (?)

F: (laughs) Milgram changed shape according to your judgment. The standards of judgment, the world that you want… this is what they’re all about, huh?

E: … It’s not like that…!

F: Not forgiving me, but forgiving Kotoko… that’s what it boils down to, isn’t it? Isn’t this the result you wanted? (leans back) You’re laughing, aren’t you? Even now, seeing what shape I’m in.

E: You’re wrong! I—

F: “...didn’t think it’d turn out like this” – right?

E: A-ah…

F: I get that. I get it.

E: Fuuta…

F: But still… why? (screams) Me, too! I was like that, too! I also didn’t think it’d turn out that way!

E: Fuuta…

F: I’m in the same boat as you, and yet– and yet— You didn’t forgive me, did you!? What did I do? All I did was say that what’s wrong is wrong! I was just going off at a bad person online! I didn’t even take it as far as to be violent towards them, unlike what you’re doing right now!

E: Still, Milgram has judged that you’re a murderer!

F: …You…! – Ack, it hurts…

E: …

F: …Apparently they’re dead. That’s true.

E: Then what you did wasn’t “just” to go off at someone online. You killed someone.

F: But all I know is the outcome of them being dead! There’s no way to know whether that had anything to do with my actions, is there?!

E: Milgram judged that—

F: Like I know about any of that!

E: Calm down, Fuuta. You’ll make your injuries worse.

F: Right…! It wasn’t just me alone who was ganging up on the person who died! There’s no way to know whose comments lead to their death!

E: That might be true. You might not be the only one who needs to be judged for this. But…

F: Then – isn’t it weird that I’m the only one who has to go through all of this? Being locked up in a weird nonsensical prison, having to let some brat lecture me, being faced with eyes constantly judging me… And even if– even if the person I was picking on online died… I didn’t think they would die! I just thought that wrong things are wrong, and that a crime is a crime! You get that, don’t you? See? Aren’t we the same?

E: You and me… the same? Me, who decided not to forgive you without thinking that you would get severely injured, being the same as you, who killed without thinking that the other person would die – is that what you’re trying to say?

F: That’s right. What’s the difference? Mahiru is still on the brink of death! If she had died from that, we’d be exactly the same!

E: …Don’t make a fool of me.

F: Huh?

E: I’ve seen it! The way you got amusement out of your actions like it was just a game! The way you so easily elevated yourself to act as a one-person jury! That, being the same as me?!

F: …!

E: You’ve got to be kidding. I am the Warden of Milgram, the one who judges your sins. It’s not just you and Mahiru – I’ve faced all ten of you prisoners with my own life. Don’t lump me in with someone like you, who used someone’s sins for cheap entertainment!

F: (bursts into laughter) You’ve gotta be a complete idiot!

E: Excuse me?

F: Just how big of a deal do you think you are? Seems like that fancy hat and outfit of yours are making you feel real high and mighty.

E: Careful with your words, prisoner no.3.

F: You faced all of this seriously? For real? You didn’t feel the slightest bit entertained by my crime or my punishment?

E: What are you…?

F: Listen. I could hear your voice, too. The whole time. Voices I didn’t even want to hear… the whole time! Even if I covered my ears, I could still hear them in my head!

E: …

F: Countless voices, judging me with all sorts of words… out of interest, just for fun, out of resentment. (laughs) None of that made you sound like as good of a person as you’re telling me you are. You haven’t been any different from me.

E: Yuno mentioned hearing them too… countless voices…

F: (laughs) There’s nothing that sets you and me apart. You’re also getting entertainment out of my– out of our sins!

E: I… just do this because I want to get to know more about y—

F: (laughs) You and I are exactly the same breed! The only difference between us is the clothes we’re wearing. Like I’d let someone like this judge whether I should be forgiven or not!

E: Fuuta…

F: So I can’t be forgiven, huh? Then you better not forgive yourself, either!

E: Fuuta!

F: What!?

E: … I get what you’re saying. Let’s say we’re the same. But even so… Even so, I am the Warden!

F: Huh?

E: No matter what you say, I won’t stop doing my job! Even if I mess up along the way, I will judge your sins. No matter what comes out of it, I will take responsibility for my own actions. This is something that I started!

F: … (sighs)

E: …

F: Hm. Is that how it is?

E: …Hey, are you okay, Fuuta?

F: No matter what I say, it’ll fall on deaf ears with you anyway.

E: What’s going on all of a sudden? Getting so docile…

F: …Hey, Es. Please listen.

E: …

F: I don’t want this either. I’m at my limit. I can’t stand it anymore. If someone died because I bashed them online and you find out about it – even if I learn my lesson from it, that won’t put an end to all of this. (?)

E: Fuuta…

F: Listen— I’ll forgive you for what you’ve done too. I’ll accept this pain. So— Please. Forgive me, I’m begging you.

E: …

F: It hurt… It hurt so bad, I thought I was going to die. I was scared!

E: Huh.

F: The feeling of getting judged by countless people at once is the worst, too… I can’t sleep, feeling like the whole world is watching me! I’m tired of everything hurting and being difficult! Please! I’m sorry! Es!

E: …Fuuta. It’s not like I hate you guys.

F: …

E: I’ve been by your side for a long time, and I’ve had a look inside your hearts. Even if you are murderers, you’re no longer just strangers to me. That connection is something that can’t be cut so easily.

F: R-right—!?

E: Seeing you hurt like this makes me regret my actions too. (deep breath) I’m feeling torn, since my judgment might have made the situation more complicated for you guys. And also, first and foremost – honestly, I’m starting to think of you all as something like comrades.

F: Es…!

E: It’s a pity…

(machinery starts whirring, bell rings)

E: …that I’m… the Warden.

F: Eh?

E: No matter what kind of suffering you’re going through, that doesn’t mean you’ll be able to evade justice. (?)

F: … That’s…!

E: Either way, I have yet to figure out what the relationship between your current, hurt self and the crime that you committed is.

F: …

E: Of course, I can’t blame you for not having words of apology to say to the person you killed.

F: …!

E: [But] if you apologize to me about things that happened in the past – it’s not like I care.

F: …! You’re wrong! You’re wrong!

E: Thank you, Fuuta. I’ve realized that this requires resolve.

F: …!

E: The warden… I have to judge the sins of my comrades without holding back, even while they’re crying in front of me. (deep breath) That’s all! The interrogation is over!

F: Es! Es!! – You…! I’ll kill you!

E: Heh.

F: Are you listening?! Forgive me! If you don't forgive me, I’ll kill you, y’know!

E: It’s alright. If you and I really are the same kind of person like you say, I’ll end up like that sooner or later anyway. – Prisoner no.3, Fuuta. Sing your sins.

#translation #fan translation #milgram #milgram music videos #fuuta kajiyama #milgram es #milgram fuuta #audio drama #SLEEPY TIME I'm literally posting this at 1am...#Fuuta's tone is so fun to translate HDHBSDHBD

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soursvgar · 1 year

Text

What makes them jealous?

demon brothers (minus luci and beel) x gender neutral reader warnings: slight angst, mentions of ch. 16, mentions of violence

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Mammon ━ you praising someone else

Mammon has an aptitude to get himself into sticky situations, which graced him with quite the reputation. Virtually, Mammon is a good one, but has a hard time bringing his image to line with his actual personality. When he fell for you, he made it his life's mission to show you the real him, the one that is caring, generous and loving. Mammon wants you to perceive him as the perfect man, one that can provide for your every need, and fulfil your every whim. Hence, hearing you complimenting and praising anyone other than him is unacceptable, he can be whatever you need him to be, just don't go to someone else.

"I've decided I'm not speaking with ya, human." Mammon settles on your bed, arms linked together as he glowers at you. "Your silence sure is rumbling. What is it this time?" You tease, already used to his dramatic responses. "It ain't funny! Yesterday you commented on Lucifer's self discipline, then it was Beel's determination to stay active, where do I fit into all this, hm? What is it with ya?"

At first you laugh, but he retains his scowl, persistent in his theatrics. You decide to sit by his side, taking his hand into yours before you rest your intertwined fingers on your lap. "I applaud their admirable behaviors because I believe it's good to celebrate positive things others do, but it doesn't take away from your good virtues. There are things that no one else does as well as you." Mammon looks up at you as if desperately seeking your affirmations. "T-There are? I mean- of course there are, no one compares to The Great Mammon! But a-ahem, like what?"

"Oh, so that means you're talking to me again?"

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Leviathan ━ you hyping up a favorite character/idol

It may come off a little silly, but being a shut in has Levi holding different people to different standards. Deeming himself a worthless good for nothing, his jealousy manifest in the people you adore, since he so badly wants to be one of them. However, the only beings he associates with you are in his immediate surroundings, his brothers for example, which are equal to him in power and status. Therefore, when you come into his room gushing about your favorite idol or character, that he already holds to higher standards due to the god-like class he administers to his own, he can't halt the rush of envy through his body. Why can't he be them?

"What is this doing here?" Leviathan holds a crumped piece of paper, inspecting it. You had requested his aid with moving furniture in your room in order for you to clean behind them, not realizing you brought some of your merch back from the human world with you. "Oh, I was wondering where that disappeared to... it's my favorite member from a human world band I'm a fan of." Beaming at the long lost item, you take the poster back and begin straightening the edges while you tell Leviathan all about your idol. Leviathan doesn't respond, instead, he watches you with a displeased expression, looking almost offended.

"By any chance, are you... jealous?" Puzzled, you seek for his confirmation, having actually thought that out of all brothers, Leviathan would be the most accepting of your interests. He's quick to shoot you down, mumbling bitterly about how he was certain that things like these were his area of expertise and it simply took him by surprise. You knew better, though; the nervous flinching of his fingertips accompanying his overly impudent attitude attested of his attempt to control his envy from getting out of hand. You almost visibly coo at his efforts to contain himself, smiling to yourself.

"But you know you're always my number one, right?"

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Satan ━ you (or anyone) outsmarting him

'Knowledge is power', is key to understanding Satan's values and way of thinking. Feeling slightly inferior within his own family, he uses his wits to grant himself an advantage over the others as he believes that being the smartest person in the room puts him on a higher pedestal, and worthy of more respect. Satan has to be the smartest, and no one usually puts enough effort to rise above him. So when you come around and prove the limits of his brain to him, you send him into a state of confusion, unravelling his self deprecating side rather than a vengeful beast of wrath.

"You were cheating, there's no way I've lost, I haven't lost a game of othello for over a hundred and fifty years." Satan rambles, spectating the board that sent a clear message of victory on your part. "For the nth time, I didn't cheat. I won fair and square." You roll your eyes and brace yourself for a potential full blown argument. It was a recurring theme for Satan to rage and throw a tantrum over pretty mundane things, and while usually the two of you channelled the pent up energy towards a better usage of your time (interpret this however you like), this specific occasion felt very different. Satan did not sulk nor did he violently toss any inanimate objects in the room, instead, he was sitting quietly, eyes boring holes into the game board as if it might change the result.

"It's not possible, how did you beat me? I'm supposed to be the smart one, the one you go to whenever you need guidance or help. And now I can't even win a simple game against you?" Your face softens to the sound of his words.

"Well, I had a good teacher. You taught me everything I know."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Asmodeus ━ you being touchy with others

Asmo is a pretty suave demon, even without his special abilities he can use his looks and his slick tongue to charm any being. Knowing you're a natural yourself at making others sway, he's not too bothered with a flirty remark here and there or a double take. If anything, he finds it natural and even a little exciting when he observes you checking someone out or smooth talking your way into collecting a favor. But don't get too comfortable with his easy going nature, because your body is his temple, and you are his gorgeous treasure that others may look at, but under no circumstances, touch.

"Oh my, was that a flirty shoulder tap I just witnessed Mephistopheles giving you?" Asmodeus gasps, arms crossed. He tries to mask it as meaningless banter, but you can sense there's more beneath it and rush to correct him. "He was just thanking me for letting him copy my notes." You explain. He keeps his stance for a minute before letting his arms fall to his sides, sighing. "That's a no no, okay? Don't just let someone touch you like this, I bet he doesn't even use hand lotion..."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Belphegor ━ you not including him in your plans

No word of lie, this boy is a little bit obsessed with you. Under the rugged layers of sarcasm and chaff hides a gentle, insecure soul that simply just loves you too much for its own good. Belphie deals with his fair share of guilt when it comes to you, and he often walks on eggshells, too afraid to wake up from the euphoric dream that is your relationship. It's those reasons, along with his temper issues, that cloud his judgment whenever you're out of reach and lead his rushed conclusions to break his own heart.

"Did you forget about me?" You blink at the sound of the voice addressing you, only have entered the house of lamentation after an outing with Simeon and Luke. Belphegor was cross legged on the sofa, brows furrowed as he's glancing daggers at you. You slightly shiver, his familiar enraged expression doesn't exactly incite good memories. "I saw the photos on Simeon's devilgram, why didn't you tell me you were going out?"

"Belphie, y-you were sleeping, I didn't want to wake you up to ask you to join..." You mutter, shaken by the hostile situation that greeted your return. It's not that you were afraid of him, having him in a pact with you allowed you to take the reins at any given time, but it was never a pleasant reminder to see what your sweet cuddle buddy is capable of attempting once again. Fortunately, the change of pitch was enough to pull him out of his jealous state, recognizing something in your eyes he hoped to never witness again.

"I'm sorry... I'm overreacting. I just missed you, that's all."

#i feel like this is kinda bad im sorry ajddkjf i didnt want it to be too long or too angsty #mammon has a praise kink pass it on #obey me #obey me mammon #obey me shall we date #obey me mc #obey me scenarios #obey me imagines #obey me belphegor #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #obey me satan

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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 7 months

Text

Everybody Hurts

Chapter 7

Pairing: EddieMunsonxReader

Summary: You needed to escape, escape from your life, your messy divorce, and all the pitying looks. Looks you couldn't ignore when everyone in town had known you and Cam, had known your shame and failure. So, you took the first job you could get, teaching third grade in a town called Hawkins. Little did you know, you were walking right into another messy situation, a messy situation with big brown eyes and long dark waves. But he's resistant, at times unbearable and you start getting curious about the town's past, his past, especially when things don't start adding up.

18+ Only for eventual smut

Next chapter: 10/11

Word Count: 5.7K

Masterlist

1 2 3 4 5 6

Posting today because my daughter's birthday is tomorrow. We have family coming over right after work and I don't want to forget.

“Hey Lance, can you wait just a moment? I’d like to have a word with you,” you called out as the dismissal bell rang and your class leapt from their seats, backpacks on, ready and eager to get out the door and seize what was left of this beautiful day.

Lance, sandy haired, blue eyed bully that he was trudged toward your desk with clear annoyance on his face. In your eight years of teaching, you had never met a child you didn’t like. Sure, some of them were tougher than others but a lot of times it was simply because they needed some love and attention or they were struggling due to a learning disability and their frustration came out as misbehavior. Sometimes it was a struggle to control their big emotions and they would have to work through various coping strategies, learning the proper way to handle those big feelings raging in their small bodies.

You’d always been good at building relationships with kids, letting them know how much you cared about them, that you were on their side, and you wanted them to do well. You were skilled at getting to the bottom of the behavior so they could be successful whether that meant lunches with you so the kid could talk things out or tutoring after school so they could become proficient with the skills they were missing. It was something you took pride in, the thing you felt was most important about the job you’d chosen.

No. You had never not liked a student before but Lance, he was pushing it. He was so damn hard to like and that made you feel uneasy. It gave you that sick, twisted feeling in your stomach. What kind of teacher didn’t like all of their students? What kind of human didn’t like a child? Because that was what he was at the end of the day. Yes, he was mean. He was a bully. But he was still just a boy and you couldn’t stop trying to reach him no matter if it felt like slamming your head against a wall.

“Yeah Ms. Campbell?” he asked, his tone meant to convey to you that he was bored with this conversation already and would like nothing more than to be done with it so he could leave. “Whatever it is, you better hurry. My dad is going to be waiting for me outside and he’s going to be mad if I’m not out there.”

“I am sure Mr. Johnson will understand that I needed a minute to talk to you,” you assured him, but you weren’t actually sure of that.

Mr. Johnson seemed to think his time was far more valuable than anyone else’s as evidenced by the way he kept glancing at his watch last month when you’d met about Lance’s behavior that hadn’t yet changed. It was apparent in the way he’d dismissed his behavior as just ‘boys will be boys.’ The very reminder of that conversation made you cringe. There was nothing worse than a father who wanted to perpetuate the stereotype that cruelty and violence were okay, that being a boy was a valid excuse for being a bully.

“You know, we have talked multiple times about the way you speak to and treat Charlie. It’s unacceptable, Lance. This classroom is a safe space for every child who walks through that door and you’re not making this a safe space for him.”

“Why should I?” he snorted with a roll of his eyes. “Charlie’s nothing but a freak and everyone knows it.”

As soon as he said that word, you felt your face flush hot with anger. It was like a volcano buried in the depths of your soul was suddenly brought to the surface, threatening to erupt all over this child. Eddie’s face as he spat that word, as he stated that was how the whole town saw him, flashed before your eyes and you had to remind yourself that you were speaking to a nine year old. This kid was not speaking about Eddie but you refused to allow another child to grow up with the same tormented look in their eyes, the same armor coating them to keep them safe from the hateful words spat by ignorant people.

You closed your eyes, inhaling slowly while mentally counting to ten. You had never raised your voice at a student before and you had no intention of starting now, no matter how frustrating Lance was. You were the adult here and you were going to act like it. You were not going to lose your temper no matter how badly you wanted to. Opening your eyes, you plastered a smile on your face, folded your hands on your desk, and decided to try again.

“Lance, that is not a kind word and it is not one that I want to hear in my classroom ever again. Just because someone is different from you does not make them a freak. Charlie has the right to feel comfortable in his learning space and I will not have you making him uncomfortable anymore. If you continue to do so, then I am afraid that I will have to…”

“Then maybe he shouldn’t dress like that and maybe he should cut his hair if he doesn’t want people calling him a freak. He brings it on himself,” snorted Lance, cutting you off. “My dad says freaks are asking for it. He says we have to put them in their place or they can hurt people like that freak did when he was in high school.”

“What are you talking about?” you asked, completely baffled by this abrupt shift in conversation. Mr. Johnson had to have been in high school at least ten years ago. What did that have to do with the conversation you were having today?

“Eddie Munson,” the boy spat, his eyes flashing with a rage he shouldn’t even be capable of at only nine years old. Rage for a man he couldn’t possibly even know. Rage that made your blood run cold. You’d never seen such hatred in a child’s eyes before.

You were stunned, struggling to process the name this child had just spat out. Eddie hurt people? Sure, he could be a jerk. He could be angry and surly and unpleasant to be around but you couldn’t see him hurting people. It didn’t make any sense and why would a student in your class even know about something like that? Your heart gave a painful tug at the very idea that Eddie was capable of harming another person because it couldn’t be true. What was this kid talking about?

“How do you know Eddie?”

“Everybody in Hawkins knows Eddie. He’s the psycho freak killer who got off without being punished because the chief likes him. He killed my dad’s friends and he never went to jail,” Lance hissed at you, his small fists clenched at his sides, making you feel uneasy in a way you never had before. “Charlie has long hair, he wears shirts with all those satanic bands on them, and he plays that evil game just like Eddie. I’m just making sure he knows that I know exactly what he is and I won’t let him hurt anybody like Eddie did.”

“Killed…no…that can’t be right. Lance, I think you’re confused. You’ve heard things and you twisted them. I don’t think you know what you’re talking about,” you insisted.

“I know exactly what I’m talking about,” Lance shot back confidently. “You can ask anyone in this town. Everyone knows what he did. Everyone knows he’s a murderer.”

He snatched up his backpack from the floor and began heading out of the classroom. You couldn’t just let him go but your brain was struggling to form words, to rationalize what you should say, to grasp the enormity of what this kid had just dumped on you. You scrambled, trying to come up with something to turn this around, to make him see that he couldn’t possibly be correct because this couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t.

“Lance, we’re not done talking,” you called out finally but he was already gone.

Eddie? Eddie killed people? No. There was no way. Lance had seemed absolutely convinced but could you believe some nine year old who had clearly inherited his dad’s high school grudges? Perhaps he’d just overheard a conversation and misinterpreted the information. Kids did that all the time but the rage and hatred that was on that little boy’s face had been positively terrifying. You were definitely going to need to keep a really close eye on the situation with Charlie.

You’d thought it had been simple childhood antics, a boy who was pushing the limits to see how far he could go or a misunderstood hatred based on lack of personal connection, but this was something far deeper. This was something that had been spurred on by his father who was holding onto an ugly hatred that ran deep. Lance seemed to think he was on a mission to keep the town safe from someone dangerous. He was determined and absolutely convinced that Charlie could become a monster of some kind. It could turn nasty really fast if you weren't careful. You would have to sit down with the principal and let him know what was going on, maybe get the boys to see the counselor together to see if they could work out their issues before something happened that couldn’t be taken back, couldn’t be fixed.

Poor little Charlie. You knew that his dad was in a band. He loved to tell you about sitting in on their practices. He was even learning how to play the drums just like his dad. Music was vital in their home. It was life. That was why he was always wearing heavy metal shirts. He was emulating his dad, like most boys his age, because he adored his dad, idolized him.

His dad also played DnD. You knew this because Charlie loved to talk about his dad and his friends teaching him, about how he was developing his own character and soon they were going to let him sit in on campaigns. It was all he’d talked about at recess earlier, choosing to sit with you instead of running around the playground after Lance had embarrassed him yet again. You’d sent Lance into the office but the damage had been done and Charlie didn’t have the heart to keep on playing like a carefree kid when he was anything but. You were determined to stop this from continuing. You would not watch this sweet child have his spirit shattered by some mean bully.

You despised people who judge others based on how they looked or the things that brought them joy. Jesus, it was just a game, some silly, nerdy game that hurt no one. And who cared what kind of music anyone listened to? Would Mr. Johnson tell his son to put you in your place if he knew you enjoyed listening to heavy metal on occasion? There was nothing that felt better when you were angry than cranking up some head banging riffs and losing yourself in the fury and passion of a metal song. Maybe you should show up to work in your Black Sabbath shirt and see if Lance had anything to say to you, see what Mr. Johnson thought, if he had the guts to bully you.

But this revelation about Eddie had your stomach twisted in knots, nervous you were going to lose the apple and cashews you’d had for afternoon snack. You’d been alone with him twice now. If he was some monster wouldn’t he have tried something? He’d had the perfect opportunity. He’d had you in his van, alone. And yeah, the group knew you were with him after the bonfire but no one had known you were with him a couple days ago when you had gone to look at his uncle’s car. He could have driven you anywhere, done anything he’d wanted to you. He was strong. You hadn’t been able to push him away from your bike. He could have overpowered you easily and played innocent when you were proclaimed missing. If he’d gotten away with it once, why wouldn’t he do it again?

Brown eyes, dark with anger, appeared in your mind, an icy shiver trailing along your spine. But they were quickly replaced with the way they melted when the two of them were talking about music, the way they looked wounded when you’d insisted he hated you, the way they crinkled in the corners when you got that rare smile out of him. You just couldn’t picture that man doing something so awful.

But you didn’t know him, not really. You’d only met him a few days ago so how could you be so sure? And why the hell did it bother you so much to think he wasn’t a good guy? He was just a guy, a guy you’d met through other people, a guy who’d been rude and condescending to you. But he was also a guy who’d driven you home from the lake and waited to make sure you’d gotten in okay, who’d reached out to help you find a car knowing you needed one, who offered to fix it for you. The two sides of him were so contradictory.

The simple answer, the smart solution to all of this, would be to just stay away from him, avoid him completely. No point in taking chances if he could be dangerous. It was what you should be doing anyway but you didn’t want to. And yes, it would make hanging out with the rest of his friends hard, people you’d come to adore already if you refused to be around him, but you also couldn’t stand the thought of never seeing him again. Those dark messy waves, those big doe eyes, those lips that were as plush as a pillow. You couldn’t bear the thought of never making him laugh again, never making that smile break through the storm that was hovering just behind it.

Shit. You had to know what the hell was going on in this damn town. You were so tired of all this cryptic bullshit. You shoved your stuff into your backpack quickly, locked up your classroom, and raced out to your bike. There was some kind of dark secret in this town, skeletons in the closet that haunted this place and your new friends and you were going to figure out what it was.

__________________________________________________________

You stuffed your bike into the rack and raced up the steps of the Hawkins Library, determined to find answers to the questions that had been bubbling within you since the bonfire. A nagging sensation, like something was just beyond your reach, something you could grab if you could just stretch your arm a bit further consumed you. You felt driven to chase it, to pursue it, to look under every single rock if you had to. Like if you could just find this answer, you could make it all make sense, you could crack the enigma that was Eddie. You could understand what was going on with your new friends, possibly even help them somehow.

“Back again?” asked Marissa, the librarian, glancing up from her desk over those horn rimmed glasses. “Did you already read your books? If you liked them, I would be more than happy to recommend some other reads for you.”

“No, actually, I was wondering if I could have the key to the archives?” you asked carefully, not wanting to make her suspicious. You didn’t know why. You had every right to look in the public archives. That’s what they were there for. “You know, I’m new here and I’m curious about the town. I just wanted to do some research about the local history of this place, have a look at old news articles and stuff? If that’s okay?”

Marissa’s lips pressed together, her eyes glancing down quickly as she removed her glasses, allowing them to rest against her chest as they hung from the chain, “Ahh, so I am guessing you’ve started to hear all the stories, huh?”

“Stories?”

“Well, most people don’t want to comb through the archives of some small, boring town so I assume you have a reason. I am guessing you’ve heard about the murders ten years ago? It was awful. This whole place lost its mind, bunch of vigilantes out in the streets ready to hang that poor Munson kid.” Marissa sighed, shaking her head. “Chief Powell had a difficult time trying to keep everyone in line. There are still people around here who think that kid did it. You know, he was different, not what people in Hawkins could understand so they condemned him immediately, guilty without a trial. But I never believed it. His uncle used to bring him in here when he was younger and he was always sweet as pie to me. He would just devour books. I was always trying to find new things for him. He was hard to resist with those big old brown eyes. He loved fantasy books, anything with dragons and magic and far off places. I think he just needed an escape. Poor thing had a hard time of it, growing up with his dad going to jail and his mom ODing.”

You gasped, the sound far louder than you’d meant it to be, echoing throughout the library. A sudden pain tore at your heart, crushed by those words, every breath feeling like a struggle to fill your lungs completely. That was why he lived with his uncle. No wonder it had been such a sore topic for him. No wonder he’d gotten so angry when you’d asked about it. You ached for that sweet little boy who had been through more pain and trauma at such a young age than most experienced in their entire lifetime but had it made him into a killer?

“So, if you don’t think it was Eddie, who do you think did it?” you asked, your voice wavering on each syllable as you struggled to gain control of your faculties.

Marissa shrugged, “I don’t know for sure. Nobody does. Chief Hopper came back and saved the day. We all thought he’d died in a mall fire the year before but he’d been concussed from the blast when the propane from the gas grills in the restaurants exploded inside. He didn’t know who he was and wandered around, winding up in some other town or something until his memory came back? That’s what we were told anyway. I don’t know. None of it really made sense to me but everyone was so relieved to see him, it didn’t really matter. So anyway, he came back, took back his place as chief, and he cleared the Munson kid within a week. Made a lot of enemies that day, let me tell you. The town is fairly split where Eddie’s concerned. But if you’re asking my opinion, I think it was that Carver kid. He died in the earthquake but he had a gun and threatened poor Lucas Sinclair and Max Mayfield. I think he lost his damn mind and went on a killing spree. I mean his girlfriend was the first victim which is pretty fishy. And she was found in Eddie’s trailer. I’ve always wondered if her and Eddie had something going on that they were keeping secret and that kid found out about it and just snapped. I’m telling you something was up with that boy but that’s just my opinion. Some people turned that boy into a martyr but I never did like him. He was always a bully, thinking he was so much better than everyone else around here and he made that Munson boy’s life a living hell from the time Eddie moved to Hawkins. Never passed up a chance to throw a cheap shot his way if he could or have that awful Andy hold him down so he could get in a few punches.”

A mall fire? An earthquake in Indiana? A police chief who died but came back with a story of memory loss? A young boy who disappeared, they had a funeral for because they found some other unidentified boy in the quarry, but he came back too? A girl dying from exposure to toxic chemicals? A bunch of unexplained murders? A group of raccoons going rabid enough to attack and leave a man scarred? This was all completely unbelievable, like some movie plot for a government conspiracy story or some teenage dystopian novel about an apocalypse. You needed to get into those archives because none of this was adding up to anything that made any sense.

“But if you want to read about it for yourself, here you go,” Marissa told you, pulling a key off a hook in front of her and holding it out. “Just a bit of warning, the murders were pretty gruesome. The pictures are hard to look at. It was…” She shuddered, closing her eyes against the images she’d brought up for herself. “It was like something out of a horror movie. I don’t know how a human being could do something like that.”

You swallowed hard, squeaking out a small thank you as you took the keys from Marissa. As you made your way down into the basement you began to second guess yourself. Was this really a good idea? Maybe ignorance would be better. What you didn’t know couldn’t hurt you. What if what you found was awful? What if what you found gave you no choice but to leave Hawkins and start all over again? To leave the new friends you’d found, the new job you loved, to leave Eddie?

You knew it shouldn’t matter. You barely knew any of these people but you already felt a gaping hole where they should be at the thought of losing any of them. You felt a gnawing ache, a dull pain that stretched across your chest at the idea that you might never actually get through those defenses of Eddie’s because everything in you told you that underneath all of that armor was a guy worth knowing. There was no way all of those people would still hang with him, be loyal, stand by him if he wasn’t. That was why these allegations seemed insane to you.

You looked through the small cards, relieved to find you were alone. You didn’t need anyone else seeing what you were doing and asking questions. You were going to need to use the microfiche. A small town like Hawkins hadn’t quite jumped on the internet bandwagon yet. Big city libraries had them but the internet hadn’t quite made its way everywhere just yet. You and Cam had just gotten a computer before the divorce and having access to all that information had been intoxicating. You’d lost yourself for hours just exploring the world wide web.

Marissa had said the murders happened ten years ago so that would have been 1986. You figured you would start in January and work your way forward. You grabbed all the cards from that year, placed the first one in, and began scrolling through articles, not finding much at first. It was all the normal small town news. Lots of articles about the Hawkins Tigers basketball team having a stellar season. Clearly high school sports were a big deal in this town. There was a headline about a llama loose in the town and how no one seemed to know where it had come from. There was an article about town speed limit signs going missing. Nothing that screamed murder town.

Then you hit the end of March and there it was, Local girl found dead in Forest Hills trailer park. Your eyes moved left to right, devouring the entire article as quickly as you could, hungry and anxious to make some sense out of any of this.

In tragic news, Hawkins High student and beloved cheerleader, Chrissy Cunningham, was found dead at Forest Hills Trailer Park last night. The police are not releasing any details at this time, saying only that they are investigating and interviewing those close to her. We spoke to Chrissy’s close friend, Becky Jenkins, who was grief stricken at the news.

“Chrissy is, like, the kindest person ever. Everyone loved her. I don’t know who would want to hurt her. Who would do something like this to Chrissy? She’d never hurt anyone. And it doesn’t make sense. Why would she be at that trailer park? She doesn’t hang out with anyone who lives there, none of us do.”

As to why Chrissy was at Forest Hills the night of her murder, that answer remains unclear. A source within the coroner’s office informed us that her murder was quite gruesome. He has never seen anything like this in his career. Her limbs were snapped, her jaw broken, and her eyes had been cut out of her head. With this disturbing news, Hawkins is sounding more like Haddonfield. Could we have our own bogeyman wandering our streets?

You sat back, swallowing down the bile that had collected in your mouth. Limbs snapped? Eyes cut out? Jesus Christ, the person who did this was absolutely sadistic. There was a picture of Chrissy in her cheerleading uniform at a basketball game, a huge smile on her face. She was so pretty. She looked so sweet. Who could possibly do something like that to this girl? Your heart broke at the thought of the life this girl would never get to live, a life cut short, far too short in such a violent way. There was no mention of Eddie. You scrolled through until you came across another headline, another murder.

Another horrifying murder has hit our quiet town. Fred Benson, another Hawkins High student who worked on the school paper, has been brutally slaughtered. Him and another school reporter, Nancy Wheeler, were at Forest Hills trailer park. They informed an officer that they were checking on their friend who lived there, which was why officers let them through the barricade.

At some point later that night, Nancy noticed that Fred had gone missing and informed the officers who had been under the impression that the two teens had already vacated the premises. They began to search for him, finding his body in the middle of the road just outside of the woods. His injuries were identical to those of Chrissy Cunningham’s, limbs snapped, jaw broken, eyes gone. Is it possible our town is becoming the victim of a serial killer who is just beginning their spree of violence?

Nancy’s name jumped out at you from the sea of words on the screen. So Nancy knew one of the victims and had been with him right before he was murdered. Could the friend they were visiting in Forest Hills be Eddie? Still no mention of him in the article. If the police suspected him at this point, they were keeping it close to the vest. You didn’t have to scroll very far to find more. The very next headline was another murder.

Lock your doors and don’t venture out after dark Hawkins residents. It’s official. We have a serial killer loose in Hawkins. The murder of Patrick McKinney makes three in just three days. Police received a frantic call from the home of Rick Lipton, which has been abandoned since the drug dealer was sentenced to time in prison.

Upon their arrival, they found Jason Carver kneeling in the sand, cradling the body of his friend whose injuries were horrifyingly identical to the two previous murders. Mr. Carver told an outlandish story about demon possession, saying his friend floated in the air before his bones snapped and his eyes burst. It leaves this reporter to wonder if the trauma he has experienced with murder of his girlfriend and one of his best friends has caused him to lose touch with reality.

The police are currently looking for Eddie Munson who Jason Carver told them was present at the scene of the crime. He is considered a person of interest and wanted for questioning. It has now been revealed that the body of Chrissy Cunningham was found in his trailer only lending to the suspicion of his involvement in these horrific deaths.

As this town already knows, this would not be Eddie Munson’s first run-in with the law. It has also been brought to our attention that he currently leads a cult, called Hellfire, that he has been initiating young freshmen into. Could he be murdering these victims in some twisted satanic ritual? Chief Powell will be holding a meeting at town hall tonight to answer questions and hopefully shed some light onto this very dark situation.

The chair skid across the floor as you jumped back and up, as if you could distance yourself from this information you wished you didn’t know. Why had you gone digging? Why hadn’t you left it alone? The cheerleader was found in his trailer? Was it the same one you’d sat in, just yesterday, with him and his uncle? Had you been sitting in the same place where a girl had been brutally tortured and murdered? Had you been sitting across from the guy who’d done it?

And what was with this Jason guy saying his friend floated up in the air? Like he just hung up there and his bones broke and his eyes disintegrated without anyone touching him? Was the guy disassociating, losing his mind like the journalist thought? It was possible. That was a lot of loss to process in such a short amount of time, his girlfriend and one of his best friends within days of each other. And not just a death, the most gruesome and horrific death imaginable? Could his mind have twisted what he saw, trying to make it more tolerable? But Marissa had thought Jason was the killer? Was that possible? Was he fabricating stories, planting seeds, to get people’s eyes off him? And what better scapegoat than the guy the town already saw as the outsider?

You inhaled slowly and sat back down. There were more articles and you read every single one, searching for anything that would show Eddie’s innocence. One focused entirely on Eddie, but it wasn’t a positive one, all about the Hellfire Club that he was apparently the leader of. The town appeared to think it was some kind of cult that worshiped Satan and did rituals sacrificing virgins or something.

You flashed back to the eighties, the height of the Satanic Panic that you remembered all too well. Headline after headline about these demon worshiping freaks who played a game that promoted ritual sacrifice, murder, and, gasp, homosexuality. Those poor kids that got accused of that young girl’s murder, just like Eddie. Presumed guilty with no actual proof. People would come up with any kind of bullshit to demonize what they didn’t like or understand. Heaven forbid they actually educate themselves or try to have an ounce of tolerance for anyone who was different from them, who didn’t fit in their little Stepford Wives neighborhoods.

Another article talked about the earthquake that rocked the town shortly after the murders. Massive fissures straight down the middle of the road, the library destroyed, over twenty people dead. It had been believed that Eddie had died in the earthquake but then a month later, there was another article about Chief Hopper’s miraculous return. Quickly following was Eddie’s return from the grave as the Chief cleared his name, claiming Eddie had solid alibis for each of the murders. A lot of people rose from the dead in this place.

There was also an article about Max Mayfield’s miraculous recovery, waking from a coma, after a close call with the Hawkins serial killer. Her broken bones healed after multiple surgeries. She had regained most of her sight but her eyes were forever scarred from the trauma of her close call with a violent madman. That definitely explained the sunglasses that she wore all the time. However, there was no explanation as to how she had escaped this crazed murderer or who it was.

It was like being inside of a tornado, the thoughts swirling violently through your head. Everything was spinning, moving, filing in, but none of it was making any sense. This did not add up. Your brain was working overtime to make all of this information fit into a logical picture but you couldn’t. Had the town of Hawkins really bought this crock of shit? These explanations were weak, full of holes. How had this town just gone on with their lives and accepted these flimsy explanations? You felt like you had more questions than answers.

You knew where she was going to start to find some answers though. Nancy’s name had been right there in bold, black print. She’d been at one of the murder sites. She’d personally known one of the victims. Your new friend knew a lot more than what she was sharing and you intended to find out exactly what that was.

You knew you couldn’t call her tonight. They were all at Eddie’s weekly gig with his band at The Hideout. Max had tried to call you last night to invite you but you’d politely declined, needing a break from him and his constant mood swings. Needing a break from your intensifying feelings for him too. Besides, you were pretty sure he wouldn’t be amused if you showed up. If he’d wanted you there, he would have invited you himself and you weren't holding your breath for that invitation.

But tomorrow after work, you were going to get to the bottom of this. You would show up on Nancy’s doorstep and demand that she tell you what in the hell was going on. You needed answers. You weren't going to rest until you found out exactly what had happened in this town a decade ago. Because one thing was obvious, the events of the past were still haunting this place and the people who lived here today.

Chapter 8

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