#You want a politician dead? Done

[cxpperhead]

Copperhead is 100% dedicated to his job, going to great lengths to ensure success at whatever task his employer pays him to do. Even if somebody offers him a greater sum of money to spare them, he'll turn it down every time, preferring to complete his original contract as professionalism dictates. He'll kill anybody or steal anything for the right price but his one and only rule is never harm children, nor use them in order to get to his target/s.

[vaguely-concerned]

I was just ambushed within the turbulent halls of my own mind by some headcanons about rye ingellvar's childhood that did 15000000 points of psychic damage to me and my heart personally and also made me almost sure of how I want to play it all at the end (very very differently from how I imagined going in!). some 'oh holy fuck this changes everything' rocking my own world bullshit going on in my neurons right now I'm reeling

[daz4i]

bro i hate my country's politicians so much it's unreal

[phoenyx-rising]

Its bs like this that leads to inaction/ our politics going right. If you actually think this, please educate yourself on history and how politics in this country work, and stop spreading hopeless rhetoric. Some of us arent ready to surrender yet

screaming "we can push them Left!" when all the while they've been pushing you Right.

[jvzebel-x]

🦋

[foone]

The way it works is it's a surgery to make you immune to a bullet.

Note, that's not the same as being immune to bullets. You're only immune to a single shot: if someone shoots you twice, you're dead.

You can take the surgery again, though. The only real limitation is that you gotta wait 2-3 weeks between each time. But if you've got the money and the time, you can be as bulletproof as you want.

It doesn't "refill", by the way. Often when the surgery is explained people think it's like "a bullet a day" or "you can get shot once a year" or whatever. Nope! Once you've been shot it's just like you never had that surgery to begin with. If you want to "refill" that immunity? You have the surgery again.

No, there's no upper limit to how many times you can go, that we know of at least. There's one guy in Florida who has made it "his thing" to get the surgery as often as he can. He's currently up to about 50. Obviously there's some people online who've said they're gonna shoot this guy and lower his "record", just to be countrary.

Anyway I'm sure there'd be people who have even higher numbers (anyone who has "getting shot" as a major occupational risk, ie, politicians, soldiers, cops, and anyone doing any kind of residental survey in rural areas), but they only invented the surgery like three years ago, it's just simple math: you can't do much better than that guy.

The invention of the surgery hasn't done much to decrease gun sales, though. I mean, there's been a slight increase in people buying guns with larger capacity, for what I'd consider obvious reasons.

I did see an article suggesting that in the long run it might end up increasing the sale of guns. See their analysis is that two factors are going to drive up gun ownership:

1. People will be more willing to shoot at trespassers and thieves and such, because it'll be more like a warning shot: if they have some immunity, it won't be murder. So far that hasn't really happened as not that many people have the surgery yet. Although it's spreading fast, only major cities have surgeons trained in it, and often waits for surgery can be months long.

2. Conversely, people are going to be more likely to break in and rob and trespass if they know they can't be shot dead for it, because they got the surgery. There'll be a minor uptick in home invasions and such and this'll cause a big predictable panic among middle class homeowners who are now terrified some hooligan is gonna break into their house to steal their iPads. Thus they go throw money at security systems and cameras and guns.

So who knows at this point. If the cost (in both time and money) comes down, maybe it becomes super common for people to be so effectively invulnerable to guns that there's really no point in owning one?

I do agree with the common consensus that this is going to drive a big increase in crimes committed with knives and such. Why take a risk that your target might be immune?

Which reminds me of another thing to clarify because sometimes people online get this very wrong: it's only for bullets! You are not immune to getting hit by a car or poisoned or set on fire. Don't walk into traffic or anything, jesus.

Oh one last thing: there is a blood test that can tell if you have immunity, but it can't tell how many times you've had the surgery. You gotta figure that out yourself: so ask your doctor, search your emails, something. Every day I'm hearing from healthcare workers saying someone came in to get the blood test and it had to be explained to them that we can't tell how much protection you have: only if it's there or not. And I feel like a fool for having to say this, but REMEMBER to subtract any times you've got shot! (if you have been) Obviously!

EDIT: In light of recent events, people are sharing this post and arguing about it a lot, but let me be clear: grazes and small cuts do not count! The exact dividing line is too complicated to explain here (look up "circulatory shock" on Wikipedia), but basically if you don't end up with a big hole in you, the shot doesn't trigger the immunity.

That's how it works: you could have an ear blown clean off, and you'd still not trigger an immunity. So please stop spreading that idiotic conspiracy theory that a former president didn't have any immunity. You can barely run a high-school without being required to have immunity to hold the position, because what if someone shoots you? Come on! Of course he has immunity.

For all we know he's got some prototype experimental shit they use on president's that got him up to 200 in a couple days. There's endless rumors of the DoD funding billions in black budget items to that sort of thing, because of course. Who wouldn't want a way to make bulletproof soldiers? You don't think the soviets are pouring even more into it?

[seat-safety-switch]

Ted Genocide looks at me, and says: rookie, it's time to take the war to the bugs. They can't take our homes like this.

I can't disagree, but I think his enthusiasm is a bit misplaced. This is just my summer job, a break between my college courses of Advanced Endocrinology and Beginner Astrophysics. If you ask me, and nobody did before the big incident, I think that being exposed to this level of hostility in the workplace is bad for everyone, not just the termites and cockroaches we were trying to get rid of. Even if the giant fibreglass beetle on top of the pest-control Econoline made a pretty cool sound whenever we drove through the runway tunnel near the airport, I was happy to be done with the job.

Ted stops, sniffs the air. By now, I've learned not to talk to him when he gets like this, and he gets like this a lot. A lifetime of chemicals, I assumed. My mom agrees whenever I call home and tell her about how my week went. She's concerned, but doesn't want to smother me too much. Working on her marriage with my step-father, who believes children should be raised by the Vietnam War, like he wasn't. I wait for Ted to say something. My feet are cold and I wish I were in the van, listening to the local Top 40 station tell me about how bad the local politicians are, their entire "bit" synthesized by the station's intern. Now that would be a job I'd be able to enjoy. Wouldn't be picking up so many dead rats, that's for sure.

After a couple minutes, Ted remembers that I'm there. He puts one finger to his mouth, and points to the basement of this townhouse. Which is funny, because I didn't remember seeing a door to the basement when we came in here. There's one there now, though. He tells me to go back to the van, wait for him there.

As I watch Ted descend into the hissing, chittering mass of what would later be called the Hellmouth of Orkin®, I realize today is his turn to pay for lunch. Cheap bastard is going to stiff me on Subway Wednesday, of all days.

[sissa-arrows]

French Israeli piece of shit: Wanna know why the Arabs don’t protest and break and burn shit in Israel like they do in France? First Arab who walks by gets beaten up. Even the nice Arabs. The peaceful ones with nice corner shops. We beat them up, broke everything did a carnage. It’s the only language the Arabs understand, they think that as long as you’re not in the streets to kill them you’re weak and they can do whatever they want. The war, what we’re doing in Gaza hasn’t been done in a long time. What we’re doing in Gaza… you know what we’re doing. Not a single Arab in Israel is moving not even their ear unlike 2021. Not a single burned tire. Nothing because they know that Israelis, including the leftists, if they do anything we will catch them and hang them to a traffic light.

People in the conversation: That’s good!!!

The same piece of shit: I can send you pictures of Arabs taped from head to feet. Their face, their eyes everything.

Mila a piece of shit: I absolutely want to see this.

A third piece of shit: If you want Mika I have really nice ones from the army.

Mila the piece of shit: I want to see it.

The two pieces of shit who have pictures: Sending you the pics in DM.

Mila: *laughing*

Come again and tell us how “Israel” is nice and how the “Israeli Arabs” are not mistreated. The thing is the three people who were talking are easily identifiable. We all know who they are know their names and faces. Mila is even invited on TV regularly to pretend to be a victim. But none of them was arrested. Let’s pretend a group with white supremacists and Muslims who can easily be identified because they are known and use their picture and full name on social media was calling for the murder of Jews? Do you think for one second it wouldn’t be all over the news and the piece of shit would be in police custody already? But hey it’s just anti Arab racism so nothing to see here. They are just celebrating the death of Palestinians. Fuck Zionism. Fuck every single person who stand with “Israel” in any form or shape even the “neutral” ones and both siders. You’re a piece of shit and I have absolutely zero respect for you or even any empathy.

(The two guys in the conversation are Zionist Jews the girl Mila is a white supremacist. A couple years ago when she was 17 and nobody knew her she insulted Muslims during a live video, idiots answered by insulting her cause she is queer. And she became a symbole in France they started using her to show how the Arabs are savages and saying that blasphemy is a right in France. They didn’t listen to us when we were like “Nah she didn’t insult Islam she insulted Muslims that’s not blasphemy that’s racism” and now years later after being told her behavior was perfectly okay multiple times including by politicians and the medias, she is casually calling for the murder or Arabs and asking for pictures of dead Palestinians.)

[anystalker707]

an ironic, bitter joke

Pairing: Jonathan Crane x [gender-neutral] Reader Summary: you're a forensic doctor who works for GCPD, and there seemed to me remains of the fear gas in the crime scene. after such a day, your boyfriend is waiting for you at home to comfort you. Tags: comfort / there's no major description of the dead body / no major description of fear or panic attack

Requested by @sw33tsuccubus ["i know you’re busy a lot dear but hear me out. jonathan crane (i’m on a bit of a kick lately) fic. maybe he’s in a relationship with a forensic scientist who ends up going to one of scarecrow’s crime sites. (...)"]

MASTER LIST

          “The results of the last toxicology test seem a bit tricky. Maybe you could double-check?” Nygma raised his eyebrows lightly at you, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his forearm as he walked over to the sink and washed his hands.

You looked down at the papers before you, playing with the pens in your lab coat’s pocket. They wouldn’t be done or needed anytime soon, whether you wanted it or not, so you could busy yourself with something else in the meantime. Just as you were about to get up, the lab door opened, and one of the officers stood there.

“We need you two on the crime scene,” the officer said, looking down at the clipboard they had in hand, flipping one of the papers. “The van is leaving in a few minutes.”

You clicked your tongue. More work, more deaths. “Who?”

“Another one of those cases, fear stuff,” they said, turning the pages a few more times before placing the clipboard on the counter, and you shared a look with Nygma. “We have some people there already. Fresh scene. You’ll catch the body warm if you’re fast enough.” They looked at the two of you.

“On it.” You promptly stood up, receiving an assertive nod from the officer before they left, cursing the police under your breath. They weren’t only harsh when dealing with criminals and society but also with the other areas within the GCPD, like forensics, for example. As much as you, Nygma, and the others hated it, you weren’t quite a fan of being hungry and in debt, and there weren’t that many job opportunities anywhere else. Legally, at least. Your name wasn’t big enough to take any chance in the underworld.

Separating the needed materials and getting ready to visit another crime scene was automatic, practically a sign for your brain to shut tight the door between feelings and professionalism. By now, it didn’t take much anymore, even more so after the peak in criminality that Gotham had been going through for a while already, transforming the usual living hell into something worse.

A sigh escaped your lips as you walked into the van with the rest of the staff, giving your materials a last check.

The familiar rushed, nervous talk already permeated the air along with the strong smell of blood when you stepped out of the van, observing the crowd of officers and some other people standing there, with blood pooling on the ground not so far off. Occasionally, the sound of cameras going off would sharply echo, but everyone was too immersed in the situation to care.

Usually, a murder under a bridge down in the worst parts of Gotham wouldn’t raise that much of a commotion, though that wasn’t the case when it involved a politician—with a surname that matched one of the local mafia leaders—and characteristics of the last series of deaths, explaining Gordon’s presence there, too.

Formalities were dismissed as you walked under the yellow and black tape, approaching the corpse; Nygma stood back to exchange words with the others and grab the papers so that you could know the background a little better, to get an idea of what to look for.

It wasn’t the worst scene you’d ever seen, but still far from the best. Your case was left somewhere away from the drops of blood as you crouched next to the body. Rigor mortis hadn’t started to settle in yet, meaning it hadn’t been two full hours ever since that man’s heart stopped beating. Similarities to other cases were evident, looking like the person had died in panic, with sighs of despair like tugging on their own hair or scratching themselves, trying to run away or escape, even if they weren’t in a closed place. Sometimes it had a few differences, but the basics remained the same.

Your eyes narrowed as you looked for any sign of puncture, despite never finding them in any of the bodies, so you still had to make a background check to know if something else could’ve intoxicated them. You inhaled deeply while leaning a little closer to the corpse, trying to catch any sketchy smell, but there seemed to be nothing, as usual, even though this was the freshest body you’d gotten access to so far.

Even with the lack of any strange smell, something suffocated you, making it harder to breathe. Was there something really toxic? No, there hadn’t been anything like that in the last cases. Everyone else in there was fine. A shiver ran down your spine at the same time your breath hitched, and you couldn’t understand what stirred in your chest, your heart palpitating with the sudden discomfort.

The surrounding sounds turned muffled and distorted, your throat went dry, and your hands started to sweat. Was it getting darker already? The sun was just starting to set when you left the GCPD.

A hand landed on your shoulder, and your blood drained when you looked up to see a blurry, dark figure standing there, looming over you. You screamed without even realizing it, unable to say anything, every word turning into a scream as you fell back and tried to crawl away from the black figures that kept surrounding you, your heart hammering in your chest. You were alone, in the dark, without any family, without your boyfriend, without anyone.

𓆩𓆪

          Your mind was still distant, messy, even after you woke up in the infirmary. Reality would come and go, something like when you’d been awake for way too long, making it hard to process beyond two of the uncountable questions that the doctors made you.

“You seemed… afraid,” Nygma said, furrowing his eyebrows as he helped you stand, holding your bag in one of his hands, and followed you out of the department. Everyone had said that to you before, and you do remember being afraid, wanting to run away and cry, but you simply couldn’t remember why. “Can you really go home by yourself?”

“I’m taking a cab, my boyfriend is home, waiting for me, anyway,” you sighed, still haunted by the awful feeling from earlier. When did your thoughts mix up with dreams? How much of it was reality? Knowing how far you could trust yourself was hard, but hopefully seeing Jonathan would help you return to reality. You’d forgotten about Nygma before he stood beside you again, handing your bag to you, saying something that sounded like gibberish, and you were too tired to ask him to repeat.

Everyone had been talking to you the entire time, ever since you woke up with the IV line in your arm, with sweat making your clothes stick uncomfortably to your skin and your muscles sore from the exaggerated tension. The unexplainable fear you’d felt on the crime scene was now a ghost that haunted the back of your mind, making your breath hitch whenever something caught you off guard. In a way, it was something like a hungover, but still not quite.

“Make sure to rest and drink a lot of water,” Nygma reinforced when a cab pulled up, squeezing your shoulder before you waved at him and moved to get in the car.

The drive home felt way too fast, and the numbers escaped your grasp when the driver told you the price, so you just told him to keep the change before handing him some crumpled bills and leaving the car.

Unlike the GCPD, home was warm and comfy, with a comforting smell that immediately calmed you down when you stepped past the doorway. Jonathan’s shoes were already behind the apartment’s door, his coat hung nicely as you hung yours as well. Just the sight made your heart warm.

“Sweetheart? I bought us some dinner from that restaurant you like. Also, some dessert because…” Jonathan trailed off as he walked out of the kitchen and saw you standing there by the doorway, his face falling. He was wearing dress pants and a button-up shirt only, without his tie, which was a rare sight. His eyebrows furrowed as he pressed his lips together, pushing his glasses up. “Love? You look… pale.”

You raised your eyebrows and took a deep breath, trying to get some sense of yourself so that you could answer him. “I had an incident at work,” you stated. “I went to investigate and collect materials in a fresh crime scene under a bridge, but people think I was intoxicated. I started… hallucinating? I don’t know. I was afraid. Seemed like a panic attack.”

Jonathan’s expression fell into a frown at the same time his shoulder dropped as he looked at you from head to foot before stepping closer, cupping your face in his hands, and turning your head from side to side before his thumb tugged on the skin under your eye. “Did they have you checked?”

“Yeah,” you said with a nod. “They ran a blood test, medicated me and stuff, but I’m still…” You made a vague motion to indicate the haze that clouded your mind, focusing on the warmth of Jonathan’s hands on your skin, the care in his gaze as he observed you.

Jonathan felt bad. He tried his best to muffle down that feeling that bubbled up inside his chest by focusing on caring for you, holding onto your shoulders before he gave your hips a squeeze when he looked you up and down to make sure he didn’t miss any detail, anything. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and he adjusted his glasses again before nodding and kissing your cheek softly.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Jonathan furrowed his eyebrows, taking your bag and leaving it on the floor before he hugged you, rubbing your back comfortingly. “Or better, why didn’t anyone in the GCPD call me? Do they not have mine as one of your emergency numbers? Love, I—” His words came to a halt when you groaned softly. “Sorry, I’m just very worried,” he exhaled heavily, hugging you tighter. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if something had happened to you. You have a dangerous job, sweetheart.”

The irony of it all was a bitter joke that made Jonathan mad. To think that his fear gas—the one he had created to overcome his enemies and to protect you—had affected his own partner. Though, it did make him wonder how and why the gas had stuck around for so long. He was just supposed to get rid of the obstacles, clean the trash, not disturb his beloved partner! Jonathan wanted to strangle himself for a moment, but something—well, someone—else needed his attention right now. He kissed your cheek a few times more, hoping to ease both you and his anger.

“Are you sure you’re feeling better?” Jonathan caressed your face, and his heart fluttered and sank when a small smile tugged on your lips.

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumbled with a nod. A sigh escaped your lips as you wrapped your arms around Jonathan, leaning into his touches, nuzzling his shoulder. “I just needed to rest. I really wanted to see you,” you whispered. “Be with you.”

“Of course, love,” he whispered and kissed your shoulder in return, staring at the wall while holding you there. “I’m here for you.” The words were true, even if most things about him weren’t, but he needed to keep you around, to keep the only person he loved happy, the only person who brought him a sense of reality. You were the main reason he kept trying to be better, to get a better life, even if his means weren’t the best.

“I’ll get a shower ready for you,” Jonathan said, interrupting himself from overthinking and also cutting through your thoughts. “Get you into some nice clothes, then we can have dinner, and we’ll go to bed, hm? How does that sound?” He squeezed you a little before stepping back and holding your hands in his, with a soft smile. “You’ll feel better in no time. You should call in sick tomorrow. Take the day off to rest. You deserve it.”

Jonathan swallowed dryly, trying to seem as natural as possible, his thumbs running over your knuckles gently.

“Okay,” you gave in reluctantly, making relief wash over Jonathan, and he was sure that taking a day off Arkham just to take care of you wouldn’t be much of a problem. He just needed to make a few calls.

That counted as some sort of redemption, right? Jonathan ruined you, but he’d fix you. He smiled a little before he gently walked with you to the bathroom, letting you sit down on the toilet’s lid while he helped you undress while the water ran, warming up.

“I love you, okay?” Jonathan whispered. “I love you, no matter what.”

༺♡♱⋆𓆩𓆪⋆♱♡༻

[keldabekush]

do you have any favorite fic recs that are fox/coruscant guard centered? there are a couple i've found that are really good but a lot of the fox tag is him in a more minor role with the focus on like cody or rex or jedi etc

Yeah i have a few! Here are some that i keep rereading - I'm putting them under the cut!

Politicians In My Eyes by jaigeye

Fox looks down at his armor, awash with blood. There are no identifying marks on him anymore. He's as red as Coruscant

CHTHONIC by catboydogma

Not even two days later, Fox revised his opinion. This wasn’t a disaster. This was a Grade-A, first order, fresh off the hot plate fuckfest. Fox’s day had gone something like this: lay in bed. Get up. Knock back some of the sludge in the mess masquerading as caf. Go through forms. Fill out forms. Bust open a closet in which the Senators for Uyter and Kinyen had both managed to get “stuck” in. Go through more forms. Fill out more forms. Get called up to the Senate dome to tell a Senator that no, the Guard did not address noise complaints. Find that the stack of datapads on his desk had somehow tripled over the last two hours. Despair at the state of his inbox. Etcetera, etcetera. And then.

dead dog (bye-bye baby blue) by batchmates

The way it happens is simple: at some point during your service in the Guard, you’ll lose time. The thing wiping the Guards’ memories gets sloppy and Fox remembers the order not to let Fives leave the surface alive. It changes everything and nothing at all.

Life During Wartime by chermit

Commander Fox has a lot on his plate: managing his Corries, filling out piles of forms, dealing with obnoxious Senators, and not thinking about the way he keeps waking up covered in other people's blood. All that considered, he really doesn't have time to deal with being investigated by the Captain of the 501st and the Head of the Jedi Order for two separate murders he (probably) didn't (want to) commit. But Fox is a soldier, and good soldiers follow orders, so when does he ever get what he wants?

Commander Fox's Guide to Touring Coruscant by kakashikrazy256

The painkiller he had been giving just half an hour prior is still working fine, leaving him relatively...alright. Nothing hurts particularly bad, but there’s a fuzziness layered over everything, making it hard to think too hard on anything beyond the first thoughts running through his head. Go inside. Find the rest. Sit down. Drink. Don’t say anything stupid. Don’t get caught. And...and just be there to properly enjoy the company of his brothers. Don’t forget these memories. / Fox gets injured but decides to keep it secret for the sake of his batchmates. For the prompt 'is that a bloodstain?!'

their days are darker by always_a_slut_for_hc

After the death of ARC Trooper Fives, an altercation at 79's leads Wolffe to spend his leave snooping around the Coruscant Guard. Fox assumes he'll drop it and leave the Corries to their fate; it's what everyone else has done. He is very, very wrong.

The Last Reason by meerlicht

Cody has a scar now, and it’s the only thing that differentiates him from Fox appearance-wise. For one, they both have the same circles under their eyes. Fox assumes that’s what comes with being a Commander. Their hands are the same, too, damaged and bruised at all times. But the biggest difference Fox sees when he looks at Cody isn’t the scar. It’s the rage. Cody doesn’t wear that same rage. Fox’s hands ache with the need to punch something.   Or: Fox dealing with Senators, little brothers, the terrifying ordeal of asking for help and a menace called Quinlan Vos.

[marvelstars]

You know while I understand completely why Anakin is disliked or hated in the fandom there´s one take about his story with Padme I will never get, the comment about how Anakin beat "poor innocent Clovis" as if he had been innocently just there hanging out with Padme and big bad Anakin came along and decided to beat him out of nowhere, he is even pictured as this kind of "Pro-feminist" character icon while I am like:

Clovis literally tried to force himself on Padmé

Sure he was a Senator like Padmé was but main reason why Clovis didn´t report Anakin beating him out has to do with the fact it isn´t a pretty picture for him, he would have to talk about how he was trying to kiss Padmé agaisnt her will and Anakin lost it when he saw them.

Their first interaction in the clone wars ended with Padmé poisoned, Anakin literally had to carry her out of Clovis house to seek treatment for her because he was allied with the same Federation that send killers towards her when she was 14 and used the opportunity to get the job done.

"Anakin almost kills poor Clovis out of jealousy"

Anakin beat him out because Clovis was trying to force himself on his wife, Anakin is a trained soldier and Jedi with a metal arm and the strongest force user ever while Clovis is a pampered Senator with light self defense training, if Anakin wanted Clovis dead he would have died, if Anakin didn´t hold himself back Clovis would have died with his first punch.

"Anakin was mean and controlling with Padme during this arc"

Anakin remembered the first time Padme tried to use her charm to spy on Clovis she ended up poisoned and tried to warm her about this, sure he was also afraid and jealous but he didn´t want her to be in danger again, yet respected her decision to keep spying on Clovis and after he lost it and beat him he accepted her decision of ending their marriage and guess what? He left her alone, I guess there is one character who understands no is no and it isn´t Clovis.

Later they only patch their relationship back because Padme had to call Anakin for help because Clovis, under pressure from Dooku, almost kills her and she needed Anakin to get her and Clovis out of there. Padmé would not have been in that possition if she wasn´t so confident that she could take care of herself on her own, with only one of her handmaidens help, so called handmaiden was killed because of Padmé´s imprudence.

I like Padmé as a character and I liker her initiative in the prequels, she is an heroice character, she is actually Sidious foil as a politician and sure many fans are like"yas Queen" tell that brute Anakin how it is but the truth is that she isn´t a perfect character and that´s great because well written characters are like that, she also makes mistakes that sometimes cost lifes, she is a complex character like many in Star Wars with virtues and flaws and Clovis most definitely wasn´t any kind of feminist icon as some in the fandom like to picture him.

Actually if this was an AU I actually believe it would have done Anakin and Padme well to stay separated for while to learn to appreciate each other out of a context in which they are trying to ignore their problems at their careers and actually come together stronger as couple but well, then again, if that were the case, ROTS would not have happened and we all know who wanted to keep them together but at conflict with each other in order to drive anakin further into madness and the darkside.

[cheezeybread]

I feel no matter the character development, Kalim is still gonna struggle with doing what needs to be done to protect his family from everybody who wants him dead. I headcanon that his obliviousness is his coping mechanism for all of this and that he is in fact just as observant as Jamil, but that won't really be enough for this sunshine to face the evils of the Scalding Sands. So could I request Kalim with a lover who is just an absolute badass. As in before coming to twst they were the child of a diplomat/politician, so they're already very aware of how messy things can get and have no qualms about hurting the people who hurt them first. With Kalim and other loved ones they'll be cheerful and playful, but with enemies they go full maverick.

Specifically I'd like a oneshot of Kalim taking his lover to visit his family and papa Asim is asking them what they could provide for the family (since unfortunately they can't just let anyone marry into the Asims cause they're so rich and so powerful). All the s/o asks for is one month. They spend their vacation chilling with Kalim, bonding with his siblings, and chatting up fellow nobles.

Cut to one month later and the reader dumps this mile long report of every single person that wants them dead, all the evidence compiled against them, and plans for how they could be "handled" lethally or non-lethally. What was that they did in that one month? Create the Asim equivalent of the FBI and get dirt on just about everybody. They grew up in a modern day equivalent of the Imperial Chinese Court (meaning plots, scandals, endless assassinations, and just sooooo much drama), the Scalding Sands is like child's play for them.

I'm all for Kalim being more self-aware than people give him credit for! I mean, come on, he may be a silly little guy, but I believe 100% that he's choosing to be that way on purpose as a coping mechanism! I do the same thing, honestly.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰ ───

The head of the Asim household could be very imposing whenever he wished to be.

It threw you off guard, at first.

Kalim had been telling you about how great his father and mother was ever since he first proposed the idea of you coming with him over the break, saying how fun it would be, and how much his parents were looking forward to meeting you. He had hyped up the trip so much, emphasizing how nice and kind his family was. As soon as you walked through the door, you saw firsthand how right he was.

His mother embraced you with open arms, quite literally, wrapping you in a bone-crushing hug that would make Floyd jealous. His father slapped you on the back with the same bright, sunny smile that Kalim had- the same smile that first made you fall in love with his son. And the kids, by the Seven, the kids! The older ones were friendly and kind, but stepped away after initial greetings. But the younger ones were hyper and jumpy, all hopping in your arms and fighting for your attention. Even the youngest of them all, a small toddler who could just barely walk, managed to waddle up to you and tug on your pants until you picked him up.

Kalim was very pleased by all this, to say the least.

But then Kalim's father asked to speak to you in private, assuring your boyfriend that it was only to get more acquainted with you. So you had no unease about following the large man into a well-decorated room. As soon as the door was closed, the bright smile adorning his face vanished, replaced instead by the hardened, weathered look of a man who has seen horrors beyond comprehension. Or, at least, that's the vibe he gave off.

"I'm going to give it to you straight, Y/N," He said softly, his eyes narrowing as he looked at you with a calculating stare "In this family, there are...a great many dangers. I can't count the times my life has been in danger, and anybody who enters our family needs to be able to not only protect themselves and their spouse, but any potential children. I've had to kill men with my bare hands in these very halls...men who wanted to hurt my wife, my children."

He put a calloused hand on your shoulder, and you felt your stomach drop with a sudden well of nerves "I need my son to be protected, and I know that he can protect you, but I need to know that you have a...special skill set, let's say, to keep him alive and well."

At the end of the month, he said after a long spiel of the family's history, he expected to be shown what you could provide to the family and their wellbeing. If you did so, he promised, he would accept yours and Kalim's relationship with not only his blessing, but with the pride and acceptance of the entire family. Although, of course, you shouldn't speak of this conversation with Kalim, lest he attempt to help you in this endeavor.

After speaking with you, the bright and cheery look returned, and the two of you walked out of the room.

After the two weeks of break were over, you and Kalim (unfortunately) had to go back to the NRC campus, but you continued on in your personal endeavor. Two weeks after that, you nagged Crowley to give you permission to go back to the Land of Scalding Sands.

You stepped through the mirror with a sense of purpose, a thick folder stuffed with paper held protectively under your arm. To the house of Asim you went, requesting an audience with the head of the house to the guards standing outside. It took a while for one of the guards to go inside and fetch Mister Asim, all while the remaining guard kept his gaze fixated on you. Like you were here to hurt the family or something.

"Ah, so you've returned!" Greeted Kalim's father, ushering you to join him on the other side of the gates. At his approval, the guard opened the entrance, and you stepped inside gratefully.

"So," he began, placing a hand on your back as he began a slow walk around the estate, you assumed for privacy reasons "Tell me what you've brought."

"Let me first begin, sir, by telling you something that Kalim apparently forgot to mention that my family understands the plights that your faces. My father was a politician in his prime, and although he is retired at this point, his opinion still holds a great influence on those in higher positions of authority," You flicked a finger over the folder under your arm "As such, those who'd like to be rid of his influence, or simply disagree with the values he upheld while in office and the policies he enacted have had a great effect on the lives of me and my family. Homicide attempts were not uncommon growing up, although we didn't have the pleasure of being able to afford such high security," you chuckled, sticking a thumb back towards where the guards at the entrance were. You glanced over at Kalim's father, hoping to gauge some level of his emotions. But his face was unreadable.

"As such, I've gained some valuable skills to keep myself alive, and ones that may come in handy for yourself, as well, sir," You held up the folder, allowing him to take it.

As he flicked through the pages in the folder, his eyes narrowed, and his mouth opened slightly "What..is this?" he asked, although he feared that he already knew.

"I was in this land for two weeks, sir," You said, your voice gaining more confidence by the minute "During that time, I went out to eavesdrop and peruse through the marketplace. You know how much gossip is spread there-? Anyway, I learned of some names of those tossed around, claiming threats that didn't sound like they should be taken idly. Those who had plans set and in effect to take the lives of the Asim family."

"But these aren't just their names-" He started.

"I had two more weeks, if you recall," you interrupted, giving him a satisfied smile "Two weeks to find suitable...eh, let's say... punishments, for those listed. Ways to easily dispose of them without causing panic to the public nor cause any undue distress on their own families. As well as methods of getting them to talk and divulge information on any more conspiracies against you."

The head of the Asim household took a few more minutes to look through the papers before he began laughing, a deep, hearty sound. He looked up at you with a genuine smile, nodding his head gratefully.

"Welcome to the family, Y/N."

[ganondoodle]

i did a mini rant about it on twitter, but i want, and need, to say this here as well

it is sickening to see all media everywhere parrot israeli propaganda and lies while actively ignoring what they are doing to palestine, but especially so seeing it all being done just as much in germany, it feels even more personal bc shouldnt WE be the ones MOST critical of anyone enacting genocide?? a lesson to take from our awful, shitty, horrific history isnt we cannot criticize jewish people ever at all but that genocide is BAD

its seems like they are afraid of being called antisemitic by some people who dont know shit about whats going on so much so that theyd rather support a full blown genocide of 2 MILLION people, and it just

it scares me

i feel like a stranger in my own home, im avoiding news on radio and TV bc it feels like they are trying to brainwash me to cheer for the oppressors; we were responsible for a 5+ million genocide and now the media and politicians want us to support one of 2 million more??? what the fuck???

"well there are some evil people in this country we have been colonizing for years, guess we are gonna have to wall the entire region off so noone can leave and kill every single human life there, sorry, we had no other choice, dont look at us openly bragging about pulverizing a hospital filled to the brim with people seeking shelter from our 6000 mega bombs we dropped within a few days on this region, then calling palestinians 'children of darkness' and us the 'children of light', delete those posts, then change who we want to blame it on every few minutes bc people are starting to see through our lies, but dont you see? the bad people could have been anywhere, we had to, that hospital wasnt the first and wont be the last tho, so sad uwu"

how insane do you have to be to hear that and go "ah yes, that is very logical and justified and totally not obvious lies, heres a billion of currency and a metric fuckton of weapons to kill them all more efficiently, have fun and good luck"

?????????

if you think supporting palestine and wanting isreal to stop bombing them means you automatically support hamas you have no fucking idea what you are talking about actually and you need to educate yourself right about now, urgently

if you think the acts of one terror organisation represent an entire country and thus everyone living in it deserves to die for it, what the fuck is wrong with you there definitely are some horrible fascist, violent cults in the US, there absolutely are some in germany as well, do they represent the entire population of either countries and thus every single thing alive within its borders needs to die horrificly???

why did i have to sit in school trying not to cry my eyes out looking at fotos of piles of tortured, dead people, visit whats left over from concentration camps with all its looming feeling of doom, not even being able to stomach going into the building itself bc it made me want to vomit just being there and learn about every sickening detail of our awful history when im now here seeing and hearing it all over again, but this time im supposed to cheer for the oppressors?

i am appalled of so many countries being so complicit in supporting yet another genocide, but i am especially ashamed of my own. again.

free palestine.

[thepurplewombat]

The Sin List

okay, so as we all know, it is vitally important that any character we stan must be morally pure and a good example to emulate in real life.

So I have decided to create a list of MDZS characters and their sins, which everyone can easily refer to in order to make sure that they are not following some horrible criminal or murderer!

This was a lot of work, but I'm very proud of it. Just doing my bit to ensure the moral purity of the fandom!

Wei Wuxian - Necromancy, disrespecting his elders, disrespecting the dead, killed Jin Zixuan, punched Jin Zixuan in the face one time, cannibalism, mind control, deviant sexual fantasies, trespassing, oath-breaking, urged Wen Qing to perform untested and possibly fatal operation on Jiang Cheng without his consent.

Lan Wangji - Defied his elders, broke the Lan Clan rules, sexually assaulted Wei Wuxian, deviant sexual fantasies, GBH (JGY)

Jin Guangyao - betrayed and killed Wen Ruohan, betrayed and killed Jin Guangshan, murder (NMJ), murdered assorted people, disrespecting the dead, assorted Spy Things for Wen Ruohan.

Nie Mingjue - Killed a lot of people during the war, verbally abused Nie Huaisang, burned Nie Huaisang's stuff, attempted murder (JGY), attempted murder (JGY), attempted murder (JGY), murder (JGY), killed the Mo family (well, his arm did anyway). In favor of the genocide of the Wen Remnants

Jin Guanshan: Sexual assault, rape, murder, ordering human experimentation with resentful energy to be done by his sect, played both sides during the war, didn't take responsibility for his children, ultimately responsible for getting WWX killed because he wanted the YTT so bad

Wen Ruohan: Attempted world domination, murder etc

Lan Qiren: has a stick up his ass

Su Minshan: Refused to die for the Lan, supported JGY in his efforts to prevent undead Da-ge from killing him. Also cursed Jin Zixun.

Sect Leader Yao: Weathervane politician

Jiang Wanyin: strangled Wei Wuxian that one time, keeps trying to talk to him but is way too tsundere about it, killed many during the war, didn't immediately forgive WWX for getting JYL killed, threatens to break Jin Ling's legs weekly.

Jin Ling: rude. rude rude rude. Also stabbed WWx one time

Lan Jingyi: not respecting his elders, rude rude rude. Also loud

JFM: shit dad, throw him in a volcano

Madame Yu: Angry mom, beat Wei Wuxian for things that weren't his fault, yelled at JC a lot, didn't appreciate JYL, very mean.

Lan Xichen: killed people during the war. Randomly starts doing flute solos in conversation

Meng Shi: was a prostitute. Told Meng Yao his dad was amazing and he should totally look him up later.

Madam Jin: awful person, she can go into the volcano with JFM. physical and verbal abuse (JGY)

Nie Huaisang: killed cats, nearly killed the juniors, let his sect fall into ruin, traded obscene materials, disrespecting his sect's traditions, lied to Lan Xichen to make him kill JGY

Wen Qing: went along with WRH's plans, performed surgery on JC without his consent

Wen Ning: Was part of the burning of LP

Mo Xuanyu: Summoned Satan to murder his relatives, harassed his brother

Jin Zixun: asshole, rude, broke the Geneva Convention on the ethical treatment of prisoners several times. Useless person

FOR THE SAKE OF SAFETY AND YOUR MORALS YOU ARE ONLY ALLOWED TO STAN THE FOLLOWING CHARACTERS

Jiang Yanli

Qin Su

Lan Shizui

[themissinghand]

Genshin Impact: The Overworked God [1]

Part 2

Summary: In which one of the lore writers who help write the world of Genshin Impact was suddenly thrusted in the very world they created. He doesn't know how this happened and the way home seemed like a pipe dream.

Well, testing characters is one thing, but playing God?

Oh boy.

Note: SAGAU if you squint but not really. Mainly fluff and healing mainly between a tired worker and the oldest Archon.

Male OC!

Warning: Genshin themes with mentions of war, and death. And OC needs some rest.

"Good morning, your Grace." 

"5 more minutes..?" 

"You are the Creator."

It took approximately one hard pinch to the elbow and 55 seconds later that Kai decided (albeit begrudgingly) that this was his reality.

Always negotiate the terms and pay for any job.

Payment is obviously going back home, but also monetary compensation, enough to retire early as a billionaire. And maybe a nice villa. Or bed.

Until Kai goes home, he might as well get an easier life here.

Which clearly did not go as intended.

"I will not be the babysitter for any Archon." Kai already has countries to run, royal families to manage, and human relationships are ever so complicated. He doesn't have the time nor desire to babysit gods for goodness sake.

And besides, the 7 Archons comes so much later in time! 

He's a game writer, not a politician or babysitter! It's only because he played kingdom simulation games before and read too many fictional works that he could figure things out. 

Celestia is supposed to be his assistant since he's the Creator, but isn't he working too hard!? At this point, he's gonna retire early! 

"But your Grace, you cannot manage the world yourself. Archons can help manage them for you!" 

Yes, Celestia gave up in speaking in elegant and ambiguous ways after their first negotiation session. 

Kai thought about it for a bit before agreeing, anything that spelled less work for him, he'll take it! 

"But, I'm not going to be a babysitter!" 

Archon war? 

Stop making me do more work! 

What happened? It was peaceful for such a long time! 

Was it because there were too many gods or powerful creatures? Damn Celestia, you're supposed to keep it under control! 

Kai has a migraine everyday, so this wasn't surprising, but did the gods have to fight each other, just so only 7 left?! 

Celestia!

"It must be done your Grace! Isn't this what you and your team wrote?" 

"Well I changed my mind." 

"Your Grace! If you go out there now, they will use you and your powers!" 

"But I can't watch people die just because some stupid god or creature that wants power!"

Celestia remained silent at his outburst. 

"Tempus. It's too late, it had already begun." 

"Celestia!"

"Everything is your will after all. You wrote the story, didn't you?" 

It was then did Kai realize that Celestia didn't follow him, but rather the words and designs set by his team in the real world. 

Celestia is like an AI robot, one that only acts in accordance to the wishes of it's Creator. 

But isn't he the Creator right now?! Does this mean he needs more power to be recognized, or overthrow the set system? 

Kai stomped out in fury and for the first time, not as Kai, but the God of Time and Creation. 

Tempus.

Tempus never thought he would play God, but here he is, relying on his godly powers to save what's left of his creation. 

"Tempus." 

Kai sent his final message to his country's royal family before turning to greet the rude guest.

"Morax." One of the 7 victors of war, a newly appointed Archon, entered without announcing anything beforehand and immediately strides towards Kai. 

When Morax stops in front of him, there's an awkward silence between them, and Kai knows this man is waiting for something.

"No." But Kai declines. He's got why too much things to deal with and he's not going to do something he's done too many times. 

"Guizhong is dead." Kai frowns, ah, of course. 

"Please." Morax pleads, and Kai is put at odds when seeing the Lord of Geo so weak, so desperate.

"Morax. You know I cannot."

"Kai." He almost hisses, and Kai could care less.

"I'll do anything to bring everyone back."

"They will die no matter what."

Because I wrote it.

"Shut up!" Kai does not flinch when the God of Contracts claws at him. He simply stares into those golden eyes of fury and desperation.

"Turn back time! Do it!" The entire world quakes at his call, and Tempus is stuck. 

Stuck between pity and reality.

"If I do, what will you do? What can you do?" Tempus responds, tired of this entire show. He groans when he felt strong claws around his neck.

"I'll save Guizhong! I'll stop the Archon war!"

"You'll only suffer and regret." Like him.

"I will not." The resolve in his voice is undeniable. 

"If only you had been there with me then Guizhong-"

"Will die. If not by the war, then by her people."

"What?" Morax freezes, and Kai could hear the bitter realization hit him. 

"If not by her people, then by fate. If not by fate, then by Celestia, by YOU! You of all people know even Gods die, Morax. It's a war." Kai is sick of it. 

Tempus tried everything, but he is a powerless, useless god against his own pen in his home world. 

Morax inhales, then exhales.

"Do it. Turn back time."

Tempus sighs, a distant memory of a determined, hard-working, and adorable adepti resurfaced in his mind. 

He remembers laughing and writing Zhongli's character-

"One chance." Then the Lord of Geo lets go and bows.

"Thank you." Tempus puts a hand on Morax's bloodied shoulder and closes his eyes. 

This conversation turns into one of the past.

The Archon war occurs, and Tempus watches Morax fail.

If he prevents one red flag, another arises.

Everything repeats, like a never-ending cycle of torture.

"Morax." 

"Tempus." The God of Time stops behind his sitting figure in front of Guizhong and many of his colleagues' graves.

Tempus puts a glazed lily on each of the graves and offers his own condolences.

"Morax. It's over now. Return."

"And where would I return?" Tempus holds out his hand. 

"Then, come with me." 

Morax accepted and followed. 

For some reason, Morax holds onto his hand like his lifeline, and Tempus allows him.

Just like that, the two Gods made their way to Temporium, a land where time moves differently than in the rest of the world. 

Temporium is a wonderful nation.

Old as time, this country is the first nation Tempus raised from the ground. It is also the country that he chose to call "home". 

The royal family is the one that manages the country and Tempus is merely a guide and protector, helping them navigate the dangers of the past and the future.

His protective shield around this land slows down or speeds up time within the shield, creating a safe haven that is immune to any outside influences. 

Kai wants to make this country similar to his real home. 

Before he was thrown into this madness. 

Tempus leads Morax into a transparent dome known as a green house and stops. 

"Morax. Time is limited. So cherish it."

Surrounded by flowers and greenery, there stood a woman with a gentle smile.

"Morax?" 

Tempus watches them reunite and thinks that losing sleep is worth it. 

Looking up into the skies, Tempus thinks that since he was able to change fate, just slightly, it means Tempus is stronger, but not enough. 

Celestia is wavering. 

But he's too late.

Too many died, and too many suffered due to his hand. He can't just turn back time, for he will also revert to the past "him".

Nevertheless, Tempus swore to change the plot, and maybe, just maybe, end this never-ending madness. 

Seeing as to how Morax and Guizhong are fine, Tempus disappears and reappears under a cherry blossom tree.

There was another person he saved, a sister and leader to many. There, two sisters cried in each other’s arms like no tomorrow.

Tempus watches solemnly, and repeats the same disappearing and reappearing, many times.

Tempus shouldn't be at this tea party. 

"Morax. Let's rebuild Liyue."

"Guizhong. They betrayed you." Morax clearly looks like he was withholding his rage. 

"I know." Guizhong acknowledges, but isn't afraid. 

"But even so, I understand their reasons. To protect their land from an unwanted war."

Her kindness knows no bounds. Truly, no one deserves her. 

"Thus Morax, this time, we will rebuild Liyue with the adepti, and we will stand together. As always."

"Guizhong. I...cannot afford to lose you again." She smiles wistfully, and then looks at Tempus. 

"I too am afraid of disappearing, and without Tempus, perhaps I would have perished. It was he who saved me and led me to his realm to heal. For that, thank you." 

Morax too bows in gratitude.

"I apologize that I cannot save everyone." 

"That would be too much to ask from you, Tempus. For you are not an omnipotent, omniscient or omnipresent God." 

For the first time, Tempus feels slightly relieved at someone's words. 

"I'm sure you did your best and already changed so many people’s lives."

Huh. A soft smile blooms on his face and the two seemed surprised. 

Truly, no one deserves her.  

Eventually they leave, and Tempus, sends them off peacefully, wishing them the best.

Then, Liyue is built once again.

This time, they build the foundation and protect the city together.

But again, even the gods cannot go against time.

When Guizhong dies, she dies as she scatters her wisdom all over Liyue, to her people, to her country and to her loved ones.

This time, she dies without regrets.

This time, she dies because Celestia told her it was time.

There was no forewarning, but it looked like she knew. 

She spent the last of her time with Morax and Tempus before she fades and flutters away like dust.

Again, Morax receives a stone dumbbell, challenging him to unlock.

But this time, there was one thing that changed.

"Morax, I hope you can befriend Tempus. He's the oldest of all gods, the one who has drifted the longest among all. Yet, he is perhaps the one that is the loneliest and wisest, or perhaps that is why he acts the way he acts." She says after she gives him her dumbbell.

"If I have one regret, it would be that I have never gained his trust."

"Guizhong, that's impossible-"

"Morax, he has never shown us more than courtesy and kindness. Maybe I am greedy, but I want to become a friend to all." She smiles.

"That is why, I hope you can be his friend in place of I."

"Of course. By your gift, I pledge to fulfill your will." Morax holds her hand as she disintegrates.

"Thank you Morax. I hope only happiness and prosperity follow you."

Like dust, they slip through his fingers and disappear.

Like all of his comrades, friends, and loved ones.

And Tempus could only watch from the distance like a powerless God he is. 

"The loneliest and wisest huh..." 

He could only laugh bitterly.

"Tempus."

"Morax." The god replies with a low hum, "What brings you here?"

"I want to give you my gratitude."

"No need." Tempus does not turn to greet him, but simply continues to write. Morax watches him write with a mysterious utensil, a pen.

Tempus truly is worthy of being called a genius amongst geniuses.

A god who built a country, and protected his realm despite the Archon War, and survived. No wonder he is heavily respected and worshiped by his people.

"Teach me."

The god stops.

"What are you talking about?"

"Teach me how to build Liyue."

"It's already built."

"How to govern as a God." Without Guizhong and his friends, Morax is incapable of running a country. His hands were made to fight and seal monsters, not to care for people. 

"You do not need to govern a country. Barbatos-"

"He's a fool." Morax heard a muffled laugh.

"But his country is still functioning quite well isn't it?" Tempus turns around, his azure eyes meets his golden ones.

"Tempus."

"What will I get in return? God of Contracts?" Tempus smiles before he stands.

"What do you need?"

"Trade." Morax blinks.

"Free trade amongst civilians. No taxes or barriers." Morax doesn't quite understand his terms, but he's willing to learn.

"I accept."

"You don't even know what I said didn't you?" Tempus crosses his arms and shook his head.

"I believe you are a fair person and one who will teach me what I need to know.”

“Just like old times isn’t it?”

This was Morax's first contract, and certainly won't be the last. 

Time passes quickly, and soon, Morax and Barbatos become the two of the original seven left. 

Despite this, Tempus does his job as both a Creator and babysitter job well. 

He ensures Gods fulfill their duty and if they need help, they can seek him out. If Tempus ever saw something worth his time (which is like...every time), he too would interfere, gaining the Archons' favour. 

He realized the power of the butterfly effect. From saving Gods such as Guizhong and Makoto, even with what little power he had during the Archon War to extend their life, it played an immense part in changing the Archons themselves.

Again, too much work, and too little time. 

Even if he slows down time, he could never get enough sleep. 

It's also blatantly obviously the Archons are treating him too well, but he originally thought it made sense with all the effort he put in to change the plot. 

But their affectionate gestures increased after they found of he was the Creator.

Tempus really shouldn't have told Morax this a while back and allowed him to tell the other Archons. Luckily, he prevented them from telling anyone else under the pretense that it was his order. 

Even so, Kai finally feels a little more at ease. He could finally get some sleep. 

Could he really complain about the children (Archons) when they gave him the most premium material to sleep on? 

Or hear a private concert from a certain bard?

Or try out the best food in the jungles?

Or let him sleep under the giant cherry blossoms whenever he wants?

Or take him out to a hot springs in Liyue?

"Kai. How are you feeling?" Zhongli asks from behind him, who is washing his long, long hair. 

"Good...Thanks...Zhongli."

Kai can finally relax a bit and it’s well deserved. Taking care of kids is hard. Much less 7 at once.

At least they’re paying him back with interest.

Zhongli couldn't help but smile proudly when the sleepless God fell asleep in his domain.

He'd be sure to brag about this at their next Archon meeting. 

Not knowing it would be their last.

[pocketsizedquasar-3]

you know. white liberals would be far less annoying (still deeply annoying) and far less difficult to take seriously (still deeply difficult) if they stopped lying to themselves and everyone else about what they were doing. ‘cause y’all either sound completely stupid and removed from reality at best or violently callous at worst.

(and before anyone fails their reading comprehension here, i am not telling anyone to vote or not vote or who to vote or not vote for. get off my dick.)

but no, you’re not doing “real leftism” by voting for kamala (something i have actually seen countless people say. “real leftists” would vote for kamala!!1!!1!! if you don’t vote for her ur not a “real leftist!!!!”). that’s not what that is. words mean things. you’re actually engaging in pretty textbook liberalism. it’s not “real leftism” to vote for a genocidal fascist who is actively employing genocidal fascistic policies both overseas and domestically, and who has pledged gladly to continue doing so. (again, bc this is the bad reading comprehension website, i’m not telling you if you vote for kkkamala ur not a “real leftist” (mostly because that’s meaningless); i’m saying that that act itself is not a """leftist""" action). if you feel the need to justify what you’re doing to yourself by pretending you’re doing ~real leftism~, stop.

you're not “stopping fascism” or “saving democracy” or whatever else. you’re not “stopping fascism” by voting for a fascist. you’re not “saving democracy” by voting for a fascist. if you genuinely can’t see in this current moment that kamala harris & the democrats are fascists, you are deliberately ignoring and excusing fascism as long as it’s happening to nonwhite people. it is willful, deliberate ignorance at this point and it is violent. you genuinely do not see victims of fascism unless it happens to white people.

you’re not “protecting palestinians” by voting for kamala. you’re not making their chances better or being better for them or improving their conditions. you’re not “more likely” to sway kamala on palestine; you can’t even threaten to withhold your support for her because of her wanton slaughtering of palestinians. 13 months of ongoing genocide and ongoing mass protest movements and multiple polls showing that she would literally guarantee the win in key swing states if she would just call for an arms embargo / ceasefire as part of her platform have not swayed her. she constantly, constantly reaffirms her willful, enthusiastic support of this genocide. she has said over and over again that she will not end her support for israel, that she would not have done anything differently than biden, that she has no intentions to stop sending israel arms and money so they can keep slaughtering palestinians and now lebanese. you are not “protecting” or helping palestinians by voting for her. keep their names out of your mouths.

you’re not protecting """minorities""" or """poc""" either. not when the candidate is a cop whose administration has already funneled billions of dollars into the police and the military, who is priding herself on wanting to create the most lethal military, on being tougher on the border&immigration than trump, who is happily continuing to perpetuate racist atrocity propaganda to justify the mass slaughter of palestinians, who continues to reaffirm and support the escalation of imperialism and war even elsewhere in the so-called middle east, who is gladly seeking (and securing) endorsements by racist white supremacist republicans (like dick fucking cheney. come on), whose administration has been for four years enthusiastically accelerating the climate crisis, whose campaign has been littered with examples of both their supporters and the politicians themselves being virulently racist. you’re not protecting us. you’re not helping us.

your candidate wants us dead. your candidate wants me dead. your candidate wants my people in iran dead. your candidate wants my sister peoples in palestine and in lebanon dead. your candidate is actively orchestrating their slaughter.

kamala might be better for you, white liberal american. fine. vote for her if you wish. no one is stopping you. but stop white knighting about it. stop pretending you’re doing this for anyone but yourself. stop lying to yourself and everyone else about what you’re doing. stop speaking over us the with fucking audacity that you’re somehow doing us a favor, and stop talking down to us, palestinians especially, like they are children who need to be ~explained~ the right way to save them. stick your white savior complex up your ass.

vote however you want, but stop lying about what you’re doing and who you’re protecting.

and if you want my vote too? fucking earn it.