#International Day in support of the victims of torture

[torturevictimsday]

Statement of the ACHPR on the occasion of the International Day in Support of Victims of Torture 2023.

The African Commission on Human and Peoples' Rights, through its Committee for the Prevention of Torture (CPTA), commemorates the symbolic date of June 26, International Day in Support of Victims of Torture. 

For the past twenty-six years, the commemoration of the adoption of the United Nations Convention against Torture has highlighted the urgent need for our continent and the rest of the world to adopt protection mechanisms for victims, and to put an unequivocal end to all forms of torture and inhuman or degrading treatment. This commemoration is of particular importance to the CPTA, which continues to support African states by encouraging them to adopt and ratify international instruments against torture. We would also like to congratulate those states on our continent that are fully committed to implementing these instruments, thus contributing to the eradication of impunity. The CPTA wishes to express its sincere gratitude to all those actors, from civil society and academic institutions, who, through their active involvement in advocacy actions, place their academic expertise at the service of human rights and the preservation of the intrinsic dignity of every human being. We urge them to persevere in their noble efforts. 

To date, a total of 54 countries have signed up to the United Nations Convention against Torture, demonstrating their commitment to the protection of fundamental rights. The Committee for the Prevention of Torture in Africa (CPTA) urges these states to persevere in implementing essential mechanisms and practices, such as training security officers, safeguarding the physical and mental well-being of persons deprived of their liberty, and guaranteeing improved access to prevention and redress mechanisms. Furthermore, it is important to practice zero tolerance towards abusive acts, torture and inhuman or degrading treatment. It is imperative to emphasize that the challenges of the continent, as well as security, political instability and conflict, can contribute to situations of instability conducive to such treatment.

As we mentioned two years ago, the declaration of states of emergency in several countries represented fertile ground for all kinds of deprivation of individual freedoms and excessive use of force by national security officials. We urged States to take the utmost precaution in the face of possible abuses of these provisions. The Robben Island Guidelines state that "public order", a "national emergency"[ Guideline 10] or "superior orders"[ Guideline 11] must not be used as a justification or excuse for acts of torture and other ill-treatment. 

We regret to see these contexts repeated today in several countries, under the guise of security threats. 

We are concerned by the rise in violence and war in many regions, and by the resulting abuses, crimes and acts of terror. We call on states to put into action² peaceful solutions to conflict resolution, and to take measures to put an end to all excesses committed against the population, in particular vulnerable people, such as people on the move, those suffering from physical or mental disorders, women, minors and LGBTQI+ people. Furthermore, despite initiatives proposing alternatives to detention, we still observe prison overcrowding, deficiencies in the classification system and difficulties in accessing healthcare, and insufficient means committed to effective reintegration.

At the same time, this commemoration gives us an opportunity to report on the progress made as a whole, and to highlight the work of the CPTA and its partners, including civil society, international NGOs and NHRIs. 

We welcome the adoption of the Mendez principles and the mobilization of the international community in favor of these new principles, which reinforce the prevention of torture from the very first hours of detention. 

The ACHPR has encouraged States to adopt these principles, and has also contributed to the progress made in providing access to rights for people wishing to refer urgent cases of torture to the CPTA, with the introduction of the Abidjan Rules. We are currently in the process of disseminating this new form of urgent procedure. To this end, we have begun training courses for NHRIs, civil society associations, international NGOs and legal practitioners in the 5 regions of the continent.  

2020 initiated resolution 472 Prohibiting the use, production, export and trade of tools for torture. Through this resolution, the Commission called on all States to assume their responsibilities with regard to the use of security tools and weapons for torture, and insisted on the responsibility of States in the trade of tools dedicated to this practice. Today, we can see that the fruit of this work has enriched the global reflection launched by the United Nations Special Rapporteur on Torture. 

Today, while continuing to enrich research on this theme, we are highlighting our 2023 annual theme of "Vulnerable Groups facing Torture", with a particular focus on the many acts of violence, aggression, deprivation of liberty, inhuman or degrading treatment and torture perpetrated against vulnerable groups such as women;   indigenous communities and minorities; people living with HIV (PLHIV); the elderly and people with physical or mental disabilities; refugees, asylum seekers, internally displaced persons and migrants; human rights defenders; and finally, people who are victims of enforced disappearance. 

The CPTA is firmly committed to combating violence, torture and inhuman treatment of vulnerable people. Their vulnerability depends not only on social perception or administrative status, but also on difficult access to legal, medical and mental health support. In times of war, they are the first victims, and their need for support is even more crucial. In times of deprivation of liberty, their vulnerability is heightened. We call on states to be more attentive to their needs, to put an end to abuses and to guarantee their human rights in dignity.

Twenty years after the adoption of the OPCAT, CPTA calls on African states that have not yet done so to ratify the Optional Protocol and promptly mobilize the resources needed to set up national preventive mechanisms. It urges them to criminalize acts of torture and ill-treatment, and to establish independent and impartial commissions of inquiry to investigate such acts. It is imperative to rigorously prevent torture in all places, including those where freedom is restricted. 

#convention against torture #Committee for the Prevention of Torture in Africa (CPTA) #victims of torture #against torture #Robben Island Guidelines #African Commission #Torture and Vulnerable Groups #International Day in support of the victims of torture #26 june

[pendulum-sonata]

Ver "Los Vecinos (Cortometraje)" en YouTube

Today is the International Day in Support of Victim of Torture, which yes, unfortunately there are plenty of them who were victims of goverment systemic torture, who are still alive today, who never received an official apology nor even acknowledgment of what was done to them.

This is a short film, called "Neighbors" done in Chile about the the subject, it's in Spanish, but it has english subs.

#International day in support of victims of torture #Chilean short film #yes unfortunately this is very relevant #in latinamerica #Youtube #nothing is shown so no worries

[quirkykidsworld]

Getting there

Staggered breaths,

Her hand enveloping her legs,

Her hair a mess,

Eyes bloodshot.

"Noooo!"

That is all she kept shouting,

"Don't"

Repeating,

"Please leave me alone",

Continuously.

That's what years of torture did to her.

The scars were visible.

Physically, mentally, emotionally!

But not all of her scars were visible.

Layers and layers of it

Ran through her soul

But the man who did this, had no remorse.

Another nightmare

Another scream

She's tired of it all,

But she has been trying.

To survive through the pain, frustration and everything in between

But healing isn't a day's process.

It's not linear,

And most days it's tough.

Yet she keeps trying!

How unfair is it that the perpetrator got away

And the victim suffers in bits everyday

But the only one we blame is the victim.

You should have done this,

You should've done that, they said

But it wasn't her fault

Why does everyone keep forgetting that?

She isn't okay,

It'll take more than just a little time in getting there.

But yesterday she washed her hair for the first time in 3 months

I'd say we are slowly getting there!

~ Gayathri, @lemmebegirls

#feminism #united nations #original poems #original poem #daily poem #daily poems #poetry #my poem #poem #writers and poets #poets on tumblr #poetsandwriters #poets corner #new poets society #poetscommunity #dead poets society #short poem #poemsociety #poem of the day #international day in support of victims of torture #poetryworld #poetry writing #poetas en tumblr #survivor #victims

[humanrightsconnected]

On the International Day in Support of Victims of Torture, learn from the Program for Torture Victims (PTV), Redress, and the World Organisation Against Torture (OMCT) on how you can help victims of torture as well as how you can play a role in combating torture.

#international day in support of victims of torture #victims of torture #torture #stop torture #no torture

[murderousink23]

6/26/2022 is National Beautician's Day, National Chocolate Pudding Day, International Day against Drug Abuse and Illicit Trafficking, International Day of Support of Victims of Torture.

#beautician #chocolate pudding #international day against drug abuse and illicit trafficking #international day of support of victims of torture

[counterpunches]

source

[transcript: [slide 1]

we are treated differently and we are so tired

[slide 2] From day one, we were treated differently: the celebrations

Hamas is an internationally-recognized terrorist organization that is explicit in its aim to annihilate Israel and the Jewish people in its very foundational charter. On October 7, 2023, thousands of Hamas terrorists invaded internationally-recognized sovereign Israeli territory and slaughtered 1,200 people in a matter of hours, the majority of them civilians. They went door to door, pulling people from their beds, maiming, mutilating, beheading, raping, and burning entire families alive. About 80 of the corpses showed signs of torture. They also took over 200 people hostage, including Holocaust survivors and a 9-month-old. It was the largest massacre of Jews since the Holocaust. Israel is a small country; had October 7 happened in the US, it would be the equivalent of individually slaughtering 50,000 Americans in a matter of hours.

Instead of expressing outrage, there were worldwide celebrations. In the West Bank, Gaza, and elsewhere in the Arab world, candy was handed out on the streets in celebration. In Gaza, thousands gathered to cheer as terrorists paraded mutilated corpses. A group of 3000 United Nations teachers expressed their joy at the murder and mutilation of Israelis, including young children. All over left-wing social media, people celebrated.

On October 8, before any Israeli retaliation whatsoever, crowds of thousands gathered in Times Square to express their support for the murderers, holding signs that declared "decolonization is not a metaphor" and "by any means necessary".

Fringe extremists exist, but this was hardly the fringe. And we know this is not a normal reaction. We did not see entire protests in Times Square in support of the Russian slaughter of Ukranians, 9/11, the ISIS genocide of Yazidis, the slaughter of Yemenis, the slaughter of Syrians, or any other atrocity.

[slide 3] From Day one, we were treated differently: the contextualization and qualification

Secretary General of the United Nations Anthony Guterres' initial response to the October 7 massacre was the following: "It is important to also recognize the attacks by Hamas did not happen in a vacuum."

First, let me make one thing clear: there is no context, in international law or anywhere else, that justifies or minimizes the slaughter, torture, and rape of civilians, including women, children, those with disabilities, and the elderly.

But beyond that, there is a glaring double standard when Israel is the victim of a massacre. Let's take a look at another example of terrorism as a guideline. When ISIS bombed an Ariana Grande concert in Manchester, England on May 22, 2017, killing 22, Secretary General Guterres immediately "strongly condemned" the attack, and the Security Council released a statement, condemning "in the strongest terms the barbaric and cowardly terrorist attack" and extending its solidarity to the United Kingdom. No one said the attack had to be understood "in the context" of the UKs invasion of Iraq, the war against ISIS, or the UKs long history of colonialism in the region, and no one said that it did not happen in a vacuum.

Similarly, on October 7, millions of people rushed to social media to provide "context" for the cold-blooded, purposeful, and indiscriminate murder of civilians. Others, before their "condemnation" felt the need to clarify that they were not supporters of the Israeli government (okay, and?), when they've otherwise strongly condemned atrocities perpetrated on others, without feeling the need to qualify support (or lack thereof) for any other country's government.

[slide 4] From day one, we were treated differently: the victim blaming

On October 7, as the massacre was still unfolding, 31 Harvard University organizations released a statement holding Israel "entirely responsible" for the slaughter of its own citizens. I reiterate: as Israelis were still being slaughtered by the hundreds simply for being Jewish - or for being associated with Jews - we were told that our own slaughter was our fault.

They were not the only ones to do so. Qatar, Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, Syria, Iran, and Iraq blamed Israel for the October 7 slaughter. Black Lives Matter Chicago blamed Israel for the October 7 slaughter. Labor unions across the US blamed Israel for the October 7 slaughter. The list goes on.

After the Israeli newspaper Haaretz published an article in which one anonymous police officer said that the police is looking into the possibility that some of the victims of the Nova music festival were killed by fire from an IDF military chopper, antisemites took the statement out of context, distorted it, and disseminated it all over the media and internet.

In response to the Haaretz article, the Israeli police put out a statement that the investigation was only in regard to police activities on October 7, not military activities, and that as such, they do not have any indication about the harm to any civilians due to any aerial activity there."

Regardless, the conspiracy has taken a life of its own, so much so that Palestinian Authority president Mahmoud Abbas accused Israel of carrying out the massacre. Abbas later retracted his statement. A few other unverified reports have also similarly taken out of context to "prove" that Israel was actually behind its own massacre.

To this day, we are told, in response to released hostage testimony that Israeli women are being raped in the Hamas tunnels, that it's justified because "they were soldiers." For what it's worth, no one's rape is justified - even when they're soldiers.

[slide 5] A few days later came the denial

The 10/7 massacre was live-streamed by the perpetrators on their own social media platforms.

Initially, antisemites celebrated. After more and more heinous, indefensible details started to come out, antisemites started denying it happened at all.

To reiterate: the massacre was live-streamed to social media - by the perpetrators. We all saw it in the early hours of October 7. The perpetrators have gone on to boast about it since. For example, on January 10, the leader of the Hamas political bureau, Ismail Haniyeh, said, "We should hold on to the victory that took place on October 7 and build upon it."

The level of denial - just a few days after October 7 - is so pervasive that Israel had to compile a 47-minute film of footage with the most graphic, dehumanizing video evidence to screen for international reporters, government officials, and more.

But no amount of evidence seems to be enough. No independent investigators are enough. No video footage is enough. No survivor or eyewitness testimony is enough. Why are people denying what's before their very eyes? Why?

[slide 6] Then the one-sided demands.

From October 7, there were already demands on Israel - on Israel, as its civilians were massacred - to ceasefire. These demands came from important voices, including American Congresspeople, groups such as UNICEF, and more. These calls made little, if any, mention of Hamas, the perpetrator of the October 7 massacre.

No other country would be asked, as a slaughter of their people was still unfolding, to lay down their arms.

Since then, the calls for Israel - and only Israel - to ceasefire have been incessant. They have continued even as Hamas vowed, on October 24, that "there will be a second, a third, a fourth" October 7. When asked to clarify, in the same interview, whether they meant the complete annihilation of Israel, the senior Hamas official responded, "Yes, of course."

The calls for Israel to ceasefire continued as Yaha Sinwar, the architect of the October 7 massacre, promised on November 30 that "October 7 was just a rehearsal."

The calls for Israel to ceasefire continued as Hamas violated the terms of the temporary ceasefire every single day between November 24 and December 1.

The calls for Israel to ceasefire as Hamas has fired over 13,000 missiles at Israeli civilians. Even more infuriating, the calls for a ceasefire are often made hand in hand with calls to "globalize the Intifada." An intifada is an armed uprising; it's incompatible with a ceasefire.

The calls for Israel to ceasefire have continued as Hamas has rejected several ceasefires in the past several weeks. At this point, those calling for a ceasefire should be honest: what they care is that Israel ceases, but they are not particularly bothered (or even support) when Hamas fires.

[slide 7] The genocide accusations

There are 153 countries that have signed the Convention of 1948. Before this January, only two had ever been brought to trial before the International Court of Justice. Of the signatories, a number of them have been accused of genocidal acts after signing the Convention, including Azerbaijan, China, the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Ethiopia, Palestine, Sudan, Syria, and more.

Only Israel, however, is put on trial, which is all the more egregious when we consider that the events post-October 7 are in response to a massacre of Israelis that Genocide Watch classified as "an act of genocide."

What's even more egregious is that South Africa, which has brought this case before the ICJ, maintains close relationships with genocidal dictators, including Russia's Vladimir Putin and Sudan's Omar al-Bashir. It is a close ally of the Islamic Republic of Iran, Hamas' patron, which has been brutally oppressing the people of Iran since 1979. South Africa even hosted Hamas officials for a "solidarity" event in December 2023 - two months after the October 7 massacre.

Per the Hamas Ministry of Health, 23,000 Palestinians have been killed in Gaza; Israel claims at least 9,000 of them are Hamas combatants. While any civilian death is tragic, there are far deadlier wars and atrocities happening around the globe right at this very second. In Yemen, nearly 400,000 have been killed and a million have died in a famine. In Syria, over 600,000 have been killed. In the Democratic Republic of the Congo, 6 million have been killed. In Ukraine, at least 100,000 have been killed. The list goes on and on. In many of these cases, the perpetrators of the atrocities - some of them South Africa's closest allies - have explicitly expressed genocidal intent. Yet South Africa hasn't found it necessary to bring them before the International Court of Justice. Only the Jewish state.

[slide 8] Feminist advocates are suddenly silent - or worse, accuse us of lying

Perhaps among the most infuriating responses to the October 7 massacre has been the response of so-called feminists and feminist organizations.

On October 7, and every day since, Hamas weaponized rape as a tool of war, which is not only a war crime, but a crime against humanity. There is a preponderance of evidence, including extensive forensic evidence, eyewitness testimony, perpetrator confessions, and survivor testimony.

Yet the Women's March has not condemned Hamas' weaponization of rape as a tool of war; instead, it has only called for a ceasefire. Me Too has not condemned Hamas' weaponization as a tool of war. UN Women did not condemn Hamas' massacre until December 2, nearly two months after October 7, after intense public pressure from Israelis and the Jewish community.

Angelina Jolie, perhaps the most vocal global activist against the weaponization of rape as a tool of war, has said absolutely nothing about Hamas' war crimes; instead, she has asked Israel to ceasefire.

[slide 9] Double standard: legitimacy

Israel is condemned more than any other nation in the world, but the double standard doesn't end there. Israel's real or perceived crimes are blown out of proportion in comparison to other countries' real or perceived crimes, but the double standard doesn't end there. Israel's suffering is minimized, contextualized, denied, or qualified in comparison to the suffering of other countries, but the double standard doesn't end there. Instead, there is another double standard: everything coming out of Hamas' mouth is immediately taken as fact, while everything that comes out of Israel is questioned.

This is not merely a matter of "feeling" like there is a double standard.

On October 17, an explosion went off at the Al Ahli Hospital parking lot. Within minutes, Hamas claimed that an Israeli airstrike had targeted the hospital, killing 471 people. Israel claimed that a Palestinian Islamic Jihad missile misfired and hit the hospital. But the BBC ran with Hamas' story. This triggered worldwide outrage, inciting anti-Jewish riots in the Arab world and in Russia. Eventually, most international independent investigations corroborated Israel's version of events. But by the time the media retracted its original claim - that is, what Hamas said - it was too late. Two Jews had already been killed in Tunisia in retaliation for a massacre that Israel never actually committed.

Then there is the issue of the hostage videos. Hostage videos are hostage videos because they are made under duress. The hostage is told what to say; otherwise, their life is in danger. Hamas, of course, has coerced the Israeli hostages into saying that they are being treated well. These statements, made with a gun to the head, have been taken as fact, so much so that prominent figures such as Shaun King have gushed over Hamas' so-called "humane" treatment of the hostages (that they brutally abducted after murdering their entire families and friends before their eyes).

Yet, now that over a hundred hostages have been released, and they are no longer under threat from Hamas, they are coming out with stories of abuse and torture. Suddenly, no one believes these accounts, claiming that Israel must have told them what to say. It's absolutely absurd and defies all logic.

[slide 10] support my work

venmo: @rootsmetals cash app: $rootsmetals paypal: @[email protected]

complete bibliography for this post: patreon.com/rootsmetals

disclaimer: the intent of this post is to educate, raise awareness, and challenge hate speech]

#israel #antisemitism #october 7 #the double standards are nauseating #the antisemitism is so deep and insidiously rooted that many of my friends #who would never hate a jew #are falling into these tropes without thought #in the guise of the left #something something horseshoe theory

[nimas-li-kvar]

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

[warsofasoiaf]

On ceasefire negotiations related to how Israel-Hamas is operating. Israel demanded to know how many hostages remain and who is alive, and apparently Hamas is refusing to provide the names and count. Is this a normal thing to argue over and is it normal for a country to sacrifice military campaigns for a comparatively small number of civilians? For example would the United States act similarly if it were in Israel's situation? Would another Western country?

This is actually something I can talk a great deal about, because it deals with negotiations, game theory, and applying economic concepts to non-economic subjects. This will be pretty clinically heartless, so I'm going to throw a cut down.

A hostage negotiation is, at its core, taking prisoners to extract some form of compensation for their safe return. The hostage taker wants something, and trades in human lives to get it. This can be money (ransom), an exchange of prisoners (a prisoner swap), or to exert pressure to enact political change (terrorism). The negotiation is largely an argument over price - how much is it worth to return the hostages safely. We'll get back to this in a bit.

It is typically standard practice to declare the name, number, and status of hostages for a few reasons. One is verification, to prove that the organization has the hostages in question. The second is to establish good faith that the negotiations can be conducted, that the hostages won't be immediately executed. If there is no good faith, the other side does not negotiate and instead attempts rescue (or in Russia's case, just mows them down indiscriminately). That's the same reason why hostage takers can release hostages as a show of good faith that further negotiations are fruitful.

At the end of the day, a hostage negotiation is an argument over the price of the hostages' lives. In any negotiation, information asymmetry is the name of the day, and the more advantages you have in that category, the better price you can command. Hamas is incentivized not to declare the name and status of the hostages for both benign (relatively) and malign reasons. By refusing to name the number and status of the hostages, it forces uncertainty into the Israeli negotiations. If Israel doesn't know how many hostages it's "buying" then it's liable to offer more than Hamas is willing to settle for, which makes Hamas come out ahead in the exchange. If Israel offers too low an amount, Hamas can simply demand more - there are no downsides unless Israel refuses to negotiate.

Of course, the malign reason is that the hostages are not in the best shape - they're either the victims of torture or are already dead. In this case, Hamas is disguising the status to up the price of the negotiations. Typically, negotiators don't pay for dead hostages, so in the event you have dead hostages, it's advantageous to disguise that status to extract something for them (typically money because once you have it in your hand, it's tough to go backsies). It's not good business in the long run, because no one does business with you again, but Hamas likely doesn't believe it's going to be in a position to negotiate again so that threat is less prescient. Similarly, Hamas likely believes it's insulated from the inevitable blowback that it would bring. Support for Hamas, either from their Iranian backers or Western groups, doesn't typically go down even in response to perfidy, torture, or other crimes. So in that sense, being a habitual bad-faith actor doesn't hold the same animus - they're still going to enjoy support from their backers regardless of what they do, which are prime conditions for reinforcing bad behavior. It's similar in Israel, where the Netanyahu government largely doesn't care about foreign political pressure - their reaction typically to international condemnation is to close ranks and accuse their critics of wanting them dead, or at least not caring whether they live or die.

Typically, governments don't like to negotiate ransoms for hostage taking for the all-too-logical reason, it incentivizes other hostage taking attempts. Private citizens often pay ransoms because for them, it is a singular iteration of game theory - there typically isn't a second instance of hostage taking unless the individual is quite unlucky. Governments however, frequently interact with terror groups and are thus less likely to negotiate directly save in the event that the hostage in question is extremely important.

In that sense, hostage taking is usually an attempt to force private citizens to enact domestic pressure on a government, not to pressure the government directly. In the sense of the United States or any other Western countries, this is more effective than in autocracies such as Russia or China, which both are relatively resistant to domestic criticism and are more willing to accept civilian casualties. So to answer your question of what would the United States or another Western nation do, the answer is "it depends on the willingness of the public to place domestic pressure on the government to free the hostages versus their desire to punish the perpetrators."

Thanks for the question, Cle-Guy.

SomethingLikeALawyer, Hand of the King

#hamas #israel #economics #cw: terrorism #cw: hostages

[milkboydotnet]

MANILA — A month after his abduction, surfaced environment defender Francisco “Eco” Dangla III detailed his harrowing experience at the Commission on Human Rights, on April 26.

Dangla and fellow activist Axielle “Jak” Tiong were mauled into a van by armed men on March 24 in barangay Polo, San Carlos, Pangasinan. Later on, the two activists would be found on March 28, after more than 600 individuals and international and local organizations campaigned for their immediate release.

Their abductors are still at large, prompting the activists to seek sanctuary.

Dangla believes that their abductors are state agents, due to the build up of harassment incidents prior to the abduction.

In fact, Dangla had been tagged as a “terrorist” and “threat” by State forces. This is according to the 2019 presentation of the Regional Peace and Order Council of Region 1.

“Since 2014, I have been a victim of several forms of harassment, intimidation, vilification, and threat in different chapters of my service to the people and the environment,” he said in Filipino.

The harrowing ordeal

Dangla said that on the day of the abduction, the unidentified men pointed their guns at them, pushing them to submission.

“When we arrived at a place, which looked like a safe house, they said that our lives were at their hands. We cannot do anything. They threatened to kill us,” Eco recalled.

He also added that the abductors threatened to burn and bulldoze them. “They released a cobra. We also heard a sound similar to the bulldozer. They said that they would burn us, that they would put us under the wheels of the bulldozer. Later on, I would smell burning plastic and wheels,” Eco said in Filipino.

There were moments when both Dangla and Tiong felt hopeless in the three days of distress. Dangla said, “I told myself, maybe it’s time. Maybe they would kill us now. But until the end, I still tried to explain our environmental initiatives, until they got angry at us.”

“They tried to give us an ultimatum. They do not want to hear our explanation about the environment. Instead, they asked us about people, about names we do not know, because they wanted to connect us to CPP-NPA,” he said.

It also came to the point that the abductors also threatened their families. “We experienced an unimaginable intimidation and threat to my life through physical and psychological torture. Worse, they threatened the lives of our loved ones, and my family,” he said.

Dangla said that prior to their abduction, he and Tiong suffered from multiple cases of red-tagging and harassment, stemming from their advocacy work. They are both convenors of the Pangasinan People’s Strike for Environment (PPSE), a local grassroots network of environmental advocates.

Overwhelming support and solidarity

The environment activists were released before the sunrise of March 28. They were blindfolded prior to their release so they were not able to identify the trail of place. Dangla even thought that the abductors would dispose of them during that time.

“When we were surfaced, I saw the overwhelming support of environment groups, churches, and individuals. From there, I felt that despite the strength of our enemy, if we fight in unison, we can achieve victories,” Dangla said.

He expressed his deepest gratitude to all the organizations and individuals who campaigned for their release. Barangay Polo residents also provided support to their parents.

“Without the quick response and campaign of various groups and sectors, including the church in the national and international scope, maybe our abductors would not release us,” he said.

Speaking at the same press conference, Jonila Castro, another surfaced environmental activist who has been fighting against the reclamation projects in Manila Bay, expressed support.to Dangla.

Castro and her fellow activist Jhed Tamano, were abducted on September 4, 2023. Weeks later, they were presented as fake surrenderees by the NTF-ELCAC, only for the two activists to expose the violence they suffered.

She also highlighted that instead of committing or being oblivious to the rampant human rights violations, the government should address the problems caused by climate change such as El Niño.

Castro is now the advocacy officer for water and reclamation of the Kalikasan People’s Network for Environment (PNE). She echoed Dangla’s sentiments that the abductions are used to silence environmental defenders and activists opposing destructive projects.

“These abductions are part of a larger pattern of natural resource plunder by foreign corporations, often with government and military support. Activists opposing these projects and defending local community rights are viewed as obstacles to profit-making and are therefore the target for intimidation, harassment, and violence,” she said.

Continuing the fight against destructive environmental projects

As convenors of the PPSE, Dangla said that they are at the forefront of opposing destructive mining projects.

Among these projects is the 10,000 hectares of black sand off-shore mining in the Lingayen Gulf. This will cover the towns of Sual, Labrador, Lingayen, Binmaley, and Dagupan, which seek to extract 25 million of magnetite sand yearly for 25 years.

According the government data from the Bureau of Fisheries and Aquatic Resources (BFAR), around 28,000 fisherfolk are dependent on the gulf for their livelihood. The project could also affect the biodiversity and ecosystems in the area, according to a BFAR aquaculturist.

In addition to this, Executive Order 130 (EO 130) by former President Rodrigo Duterte, which sought to lift the moratorium on mineral agreements, prompt the surge of applications.

“Around 84,000 hectares of lands are at stake due to the Executive Order,” Dangla said.

They are also opposing the plan of the local government to build six nuclear power plants. In 2023, PPSE reported that the LGU is encouraging community members to sign a statement of community acceptance for the projects.

Despite the harrowing violence that they experienced, Dangla vows to continue the fight. “My plan is to continue and maybe we will still plan how we move seamlessly, but my will is firm to continue the fight.”

According to the human rights group Karapatan Central Luzon, the number of surfaced activists is five (5), but there 14 defenders still missing. Three of them are from Central Luzon: Steve Abua, Diodicto Minzo, and Joey Torres.

full article: https://www.bulatlat.com/2024/04/26/despite-suffering-torture-environmental-defenders-continue-fight-against-destructive-projects/

#philippines

[torturevictimsday]

What constitutes torture?

"[T]he term 'torture' means any act by which severe pain or suffering, whether physical or mental, is intentionally inflicted on a person for such purposes as obtaining from him or a third person information or a confession, punishing him for an act he or a third person has committed or is suspected of having committed, or intimidating or coercing him or a third person, or for any reason based on discrimination of any kind, when such pain or suffering is inflicted by or at the instigation of or with the consent or acquiescence of a public official or other person acting in an official capacity. It does not include pain or suffering arising only from, inherent in or incidental to lawful sanctions." — Convention against Torture and other Cruel, Inhuman or Degrading Treatment or Punishment (1984, art. 1, para.1)

#International Day in Support of the Victims of Torture #26 june #Against Torture #Campaign

[waywardrose]

THROUGH A GLASS DARKLY 18

stranger things

eddie munson x reader

rated e

4.7k

spotify playlist

for @punk-in-docs​​​

fem/witch/goth!reader, sweetheart!eddie, magic, slow burn (for me), friends to lovers, no y/n only pet names, series-typical horror, period-typical sexism and homophobia, historical inaccuracies and anachronisms, drug dealing and use, smoking, alcohol use, masturbation, mutual masturbation, fantasizing, one-bed trope, making out, fingering, dirty talk, consensual pursuit and capture, oral sex, handjobs, condoms, piv sex, reader’s father is a dirtbag, mild spanking, magical violation, mental torture, body horror, aftercare, nightmares, strict parenting, panic attack, past child abuse and abandonment, semi-public sex, break-ups, angst with a happy ending, tags will be updated as needed

Eddie would have to wait until his lunch break to see this new, hot, weird chick. He wondered which flavor of weird she was. Art weird? Theater weird? Band weird? Weird weird? He shrugged. He liked weird. In other words, you’re the new girl in town, and Eddie is intrigued.

note: Trigger warning for Jason Carver.

18

“Do you know a Chrissy Cunningham?” your father asked, filling his mug at the kitchen counter.

You paused in the doorway with a frown. The kitchen TV was off. Mom buttered toast instead of making pancakes or waffles for breakfast.

“Yeah…?” You glanced at the calendar to confirm it was Sunday. “We have Western Lit together.”

Mom set a plate of crispy bacon at the center of the table before fetching a section of the newspaper. She brought it to you, a furrow of worry between her brows. You took the section to read:

CHEERLEADER MURDERED IN COLD BLOOD A Hawkins High cheerleader was heinously murdered on Friday night by parties unknown. Christina “Chrissy” Elizabeth Cunningham, 17, class of 1986, suffered from fatal internal bleeding and multiple bone fractures in a trailer in the Forest Hills neighborhood of Hawkins, according to reports. There were no witnesses to the crime. However, the trailer owner has been cleared of any wrongdoing. “There is an evil here,” said Laura Cunningham, the victim’s mother. “It’s been growing and infiltrating this good Christian town.” The cheerleader had been beloved by teacher and student alike. Her father, Phillip Cunningham, said, “There was no reason for anyone to hurt our little girl. Chrissy was a sweet girl with a bright future.” Neighbors in Forest Hills are horrified. A resident who wished to remain anonymous said, “It’s that heavy metal garbage. It opens the gates for Satan. [It’s] real scary [stuff]. Kids these days blast it all hours of the day and night. That’s got to have consequences.” Responding officers have yet to locate the perpetrators. “Deputies are working with state law enforcement to collect evidence and statements concerning this case,” the Roane County Sheriff’s Department said. Cunningham was well known in her community and had a kind word for everyone. She volunteered at First Church of Hawkins and the Roane County Animal CARE Humane Society. As head of the Hawkins High Cheer Squad, she always participated in school fundraisers. Hawkins High principal, Paul Higgins, called Cunningham an “exemplary student and person,” and said her murder was a tragedy. “I think I speak for my staff and our pupils when I say Chrissy will be deeply mourned. Our hearts are with her family.” Hawkins High will hold a memorial assembly when classes resume March 31st. Forest Hills’ sign has been piled with flowers and other mementos since the murder. A Hawkins High student said Cunningham was “a tender-hearted girl and the most supportive friend anyone could ask for.” If you have any information which can help the case, please contact the Roane County Sheriff’s Department.

Your mouth went gummy as you finished reading. Now that Chrissy’s murder was in the paper and on the news, everyone would be scrutinizing the residents of the trailer park. The mention of heavy metal wouldn’t work in Eddie’s favor, either.

You’d called the Munson’s trailer earlier, but the call wouldn’t go through.

Mom stepped aside as you shuffled to the kitchen table. You flopped into the first chair you came to and skimmed the article. Chrissy Cunningham, a shoo-in for prom queen, died at Eddie’s place while Wayne was at work. It had been just the two of them.

What had she been doing there? Buying drugs? The cheerleader who volunteered at church buying drugs?

You looked at the grainy version of Chrissy’s senior-year portrait and questioned if anyone had known her at all.

Still, her buying drugs sounded wrong in your head.

Had Jason put her up to that? Was she the go-between? Jason barely tolerated Eddie, but the basketball team was sure to have partied hard after the game. Maybe he’d sent her to buy some pot or whatever.

That made no sense, though. You saw the same footage again on the news before Saturday Night Live. There’d only been Wayne’s truck in front of the Munson’s. Also, Chrissy didn’t have a car. She might have a license, though. If she’d borrowed a car, it would’ve still been there. Unless there had been a third party…

Then Eddie could’ve come home from Hellfire, found Chrissy’s body, and ran.

But why would someone want to kill Chrissy? And frame Eddie for it?

“—okay?”

“What?” you asked, shaking your head and looking from the newspaper. “Sorry.”

“You okay, sweetie?” asked Mom.

“Um… Yeah, just…”

You didn’t know how to end that sentence.

“We don’t have to do anything today.” She sat next to you and placed a gentle hand on your forearm. “Take the day, if you want.”

“No, it’s… I’m okay. It’s a shock, is all.”

Your father sat, mug in hand, and remained quiet. For once, he looked sympathetic.

Mom studied your face for a second before nodding.

“Okay, but there’s no pressure.”

You attempted a grin, but failed.

“Thanks.”

She gave your arm an affectionate squeeze before returning to the toaster. Your father remained quiet and snuck a piece of bacon. You stared at the article, still wondering why Chrissy had been at Eddie’s.

A terrible thought arose that had you heading for the powder room.

What if she’d been there because she and Eddie were involved? What if you were the side piece?

You shut the door, flipped the light-switch, and sat on the closed toilet lid. Your breath wouldn’t deepen. It stayed right under your throat. You stared at the blurring ceiling and willed your chest to loosen.

They could make sense as a couple in The Breakfast Club kind of way. Maybe that was why Eddie antagonized the jocks: because one of them had claimed his girl. Maybe during his drug runs he stopped by Chrissy’s…

Then you remembered New Year’s when he said he’d give you everything, that he was trying to give you everything. He’d said he wanted to be good enough for you. His expression had been sincere — too sincere for a lie. He might be a good DM and storyteller, but he wasn’t a liar. Not like that.

You breathed deep and exhaled. There was no place for doubt at a time like this. Eddie was innocent — and he’d never given you a reason to distrust him.

A soft knock at the door interrupted your meltdown.

“Breakfast is ready,” said Mom through the door.

.

After breakfast, you changed clothes and hauled the galvanized planters Mom had purchased yesterday to flank the front door. You felt a little smug about how good they looked despite the overcast sky. Once you filled the planter with gravel and soil and the bushy lavender, they would look even better.

As you carted the supplies you needed, you thought of The Veil of Undeath spell from last night. It called for dead pieces of a living thing. You couldn’t make sense of what had dead pieces yet remained alive. Not even the incantation clarified.

Dead from the living Dust from the dead I consume like the worm I keep the grave by my heart As I exhale this last breath, I accept the embrace from Death

Naturally, the instructions weren’t much help, either.

The practitioner is to gather graveyard dirt and two dead portions of a living thing. One part to accompany graveyard dirt, the other to ingest. Place graveyard dirt and one dead portion in receptacle to keep on person. Keep living thing alive to maintain charm. Daily consumption is unnecessary.

You understood the spell was centuries old. Also, the book had been written almost a hundred years ago. Some spells you’d read were so heavily coded, you needed a reference book to understand them.

It was times like these you wanted to translate everything in modern language. That was what your personal journal was for. Of course, the danger of translating and making it public was: 1. getting it wrong, 2. harm coming to those who used your spells, and 3. exposing yourself as a witch.

None of that solved your current predicament. You needed to figure out the spell before tonight.

Just then, a shiny black Jeep pulled onto the driveway. You straightened and dusted your work gloves on your legs. The Jeep looked familiar. Your suspicions were confirmed when none other than Jason Carver climbed out of the vehicle.

You stepped onto the front path as he crossed the grass. He was picture perfect in crisp khakis, a spotless polo shirt, and a letterman jacket.

“Good morning,” he said, amicable yet serious.

“Morning.”

You glanced at the Jeep to see multiple silhouettes. Something about him and his buddies waiting in the car had you on high-alert.

Trying kindness first, you said, “I’m sorry about Chrissy. I just read about it in the paper.”

He nodded with a reserved ‘thank you.’

“Is there—”

“You’re Eddie’s girlfriend, aren’t you?” he asked.

“I occasionally talk to him in class.”

His eyes narrowed as his head tilted. Condescension suffused his appearance, raising your hackles.

“Yeah,” he said. “I heard it’s more than that.”

You snorted. “Or you’ve imagined it is?”

He moved closer as if to intimidate the answer he wanted from you.

“Like I fantasize about that freak and you.”

You rolled your eyes and stepped to the side, wanting to head for the back of the house where Mom worked. He caught your arm whip-fast, grip bruising, and yanked you near. A sneer marred his all-American face.

“I bet you two have done some nasty shit.” He gave you an oily look. “Yeah, you’re a little freak too, aren’t you?”

You closed the distance, because you weren’t terrified prey. Especially not for Jason Carver. Maybe he had intimidated Chrissy like this, but you weren’t Chrissy.

You glared into his eyes, finding his pupils wide.

“Tell me all about this nasty shit you’ve imagined, Captain of the Tigers. I’d like to hear you say it.”

“I’m not here to play into your crazy bullshit.”

“Then why are you here?”

His face darkened.

“Where’s Eddie?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” you said.

He shook your arm to jostle and throw you off balance.

“I mean it, where’s Eddie?”

“I. Don’t. Know.”

“Is he in there? Huh!?” Jason nodded at the house. “Did you kill her with him?!”

“No, and he didn’t kill Chrissy!” You twisted your arm in his hold. “He was at school playing D&D!”

He shoved you away. Your heel knocked into the lowest porch step, and you almost fell. You steadied yourself with a hand on the railing.

He leaned in to hiss, “Not all night, you goddamn freak.”

He marched away, hands balled into fists and shoulders hunched.

“Better a freak than an asshole!”

When he reached the Jeep, he yanked open the driver’s side door. He scowled at you, which you returned. You kept scowling until he reversed onto the road and drove away.

Once his vehicle was out of sight, you sagged onto the porch and threw your gloves to the stairs. Your neck and shoulders were stiff from how tense you’d been. You stretched out the tightness and massaged with shaking hands. You could feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins. It rushed from deep in your gut and spread to your fingertips. Your heart was the hammer and the anvil, an engine in overdrive.

With a curse, you tried to think of where Eddie would hide. You had to warn him Jason and his cronies were after him. However, you didn’t know this town well enough. There were people and areas you’d never heard of. He might not even be in town anymore, which gave you a speck of hope.

Mom called your name from the open garage. You perked and replied. She came around the side of the house, then paused.

“You okay?” she asked. “I thought I heard a car pull up.”

“Oh, uh…” You thought quick. “Someone used the driveway to turn around.”

She hummed. “Perks of suburbia, I suppose.”

“Yeah…”

“Well, anyway, do you know where the garden shears are? I need to trim a few dead branches from the rosemaries.”

You frowned at her wording.

“What was that?”

“Garden shears?”

More to yourself than her, you said, “To trim the dead branches from the rosemaries.”

“Yes…?”

That was what the spell meant. You wanted to bonk yourself on the head. Plants can have dead pieces and still live. You could also consume those dead pieces without making yourself sick — as long as the plant was edible, of course.

You smiled at her, and said, “No, I haven’t seen them.”

She gave you a funny look, but accepted your response. As she disappeared into the garage, you wrangled your gloves on, stood, and returned to planting the lavender. You could eat lavender and roses and rosemary. It felt like fate to have bought them.

Before you planted both lavenders, you inspected them to find nothing wilted nor branches broken. Taking a cutting didn’t fulfill the spell’s requirement of ‘dead portion.’ Yes, it would die after you cut it, but it would be alive when you took it. That was very Grim Reaper, yet it wasn’t what the spell was about.

You neatened the porch, gathered your remaining supplies, and went to the pots of roses. There you found multiple dead leaves. You plucked a few and pocketed them before planting the roses in the ground.

Now all you needed was graveyard dirt. Unless there was a convenient cemetery down the block — which there wasn’t — you’d have to drive all the way to Roane Hill Cemetery. However, you had no excuse to be out. If you said your car needed gas, that would mean actually stopping for gas, which never took long. You could say you wanted to buy snacks at the grocery store, but again, that would mean actually shopping.

On top of that, it was Sunday. Everything closed early on Sundays around here.

You had to think of some excuse to leave the house that wouldn’t interest your parents nor rouse suspicions. And you had only a few hours to do it.

With hose in hand, Mom offered to water the new plants if you’d finish the last of the clean-up. You agreed, throwing out the empty nursery pots and washing the gardening tools. The clouds broke as you loaded the cleaned tools in the caddy.

You stood at the top of the driveway and breathed deep the scent of wet earth. Water droplets glinted like prisms on leaves and hung like crystal baubles. Sunlight danced between leaves. At one time, you would’ve sensed the flourishing life of each thing around you. Now all you had were ordinary perceptions—

“Strange day, huh?” Mom said, dragging the hose into the garage.

“Yeah.”

You trotted over to help her coil the hose and stow it with the other gardening supplies.

She said, “Doesn’t feel like a Sunday.”

“More like a Saturday.”

She hummed in agreement before perking.

“How about I make a cozy soup for dinner? That’s a good Sunday meal. There’s still some cheese bread from the bakery we could have with it…”

“Sounds good,” you said as you hit the garage-door control by the stairs.

You turned to go inside, but Mom stopped you with a hand on your upper arm.

“Sweetie, you know if anything’s bothering you, you can talk to me.”

You nodded.

“I know, but I’m okay.”

“Alright.” She patted your arm. “Good work today.”

“You too.”

She gave you a genuine and kind smile. You had the sudden urge to explain everything from the beginning, but she wouldn’t understand. You also had a deep dread she would see you differently if she knew it all. It was better for her not to know, maybe safer. In many ways, your perceived mundanity protected you both.

Up in your room, you pulled the dead rose leaves from your pocket and placed them on your desk. By a school library book. You barked a laugh. The public library was a perfect excuse to leave. You didn’t know if they were open, but there was a book return slot in the vestibule. It wasn’t as though your parents would recall if you had a library book due. There’d be no evidence, either, and the drive to the library was equidistant to the cemetery.

You went to the closet to search the storage box that held your spell supplies. There you found an unused sandwich bag that would work for the small amount of dirt you’d need. You folded that into your purse, grabbed the library book, and headed downstairs.

Mom was in the kitchen, browning chicken thighs in a dutch oven. You popped your head in the doorway to tell her you’d forgotten to return a library book. She glanced at you before asking if you needed money for the fee.

Of course, you didn’t. You told her it was due tomorrow, so it was no big deal.

She waved you off with a mellow grin and said dinner was chicken and wild rice soup.

You paused in the garage to consider taking a garden trowel. It would help if the ground was hard packed. With a shrug, you grabbed one you’d cleaned earlier and tossed everything on the passenger seat.

The drive to the cemetery was quicker than you expected, with hardly anyone on the road. You couldn’t tell if it was because it was a Sunday or because everyone was freaked out over Chrissy’s death. Or possibly both.

It turned out to be a backhanded blessing when you pulled into the deserted cemetery. You cruised to the back, seeing no one and passing no cars. In this section, the graves were abandoned, yet the grass remained tidy. Something told you the dead wouldn’t mind you removing a tablespoon or two of dirt.

Trowel and sandwich bag in hand, you headed for an old oak that shaded a few rows of headstones. Roots undulated through the earth like waves; the headstones were ships riding the swells. You knelt in front of a headstone and placed a hand on the ground. In hushed tones, you introduced yourself and explained your situation. You told them what you needed. Finally, you asked for their permission.

Then you waited.

A soft breeze rustled the oak’s leaves. Goosebumps trailed along your arms until they met at your nape, making you shiver. That was as good a sign as any, you supposed.

You thanked the dead and scooped dirt into the bag. After sealing the bag and smoothing the earth, you returned to your car.

Back home, you stowed the trowel, greeted Mom from the hallway, and hurried to your room. At your desk, you read The Veil of Undeath spell again. The spell’s annotation said it was for concealing oneself from an enemy. You assumed it hid you from curses — or what some referred to as the evil eye. While you didn’t know if you were being cursed on a nightly basis, you didn’t want to experience that level of pain until it killed you.

You laid out the dead rose leaves and the sandwich bag of graveyard dirt in front of the book. The only thing missing was a receptacle to keep on your body. You hummed in thought. A locket could work if you had one big enough, or a vial if you had one small enough.

You brought out the jewelry box you’d stowed next to your underwear. It held small trinkets along with old jewelry. Inside you found a silver locket from your late grandmother, but its openwork front wouldn’t secure the dirt. Beside it lay a plastic baby-bottle charm from a necklace you’d worn in middle school. It had a tarnished bell that now clacked instead of tinkled.

Placing the charm to the side, since it was useable, you continued searching. At the bottom of the jewelry box lay a small medicine bag an old friend had given you after a trip to North Carolina. She swore it was native made. The necklace part was long enough to hide under a shirt. Its leather was soft enough to tuck inside a bra cup, too.

Even though the medicine bag’s stitching was tight, you didn’t want dirt leaking out. You decided to cut a corner off the sandwich bag, putting the dirt and rose leaf inside, and burning the plastic closed. You could use a smaller portion and use the silver locket, but you would have to fold or tear the leaf.

No, you decided, better to use the medicine bag.

You fetched a candle and incense stick of frankincense. Once you set your desk as an altar, you inhaled the incense smoke and exhaled your fears in the candle flame’s heat. Your inherent magic might’ve been drained, but the energy remained in the tools of ritual. You had to trust them.

You held the medicine bag open over the incense smoke to cleanse it. Then the leaves. To finish, you swept smoke into the sandwich bag.

“Dead from the living,” you murmured, touching the leaves. “Dust from the dead.” You placed your hand on the mound of dirt in the sandwich bag.

“I consume like the worm.”

You brought a leaf to your mouth and put the brittle thing on your tongue. It tasted old and brown and dry. It fragmented against the roof of your mouth. The midrib crackled between your teeth. You gathered saliva and forced it down, swallowing with a shake of your head.

You said, “I keep the grave by my heart,” and held the medicine bag to your chest.

With a deep breath, you shook the dirt into one corner of the sandwich bag and snipped the corner off. You slipped the second leaf into the dirt before pleating the plastic closed. You kissed the pleat to candle flame and pinched it secure. The plastic cooled within seconds.

You then eased the packet into the medicine bag and looped the bag around your neck.

“As I exhale this last breath, I accept the embrace from death.”

You inhaled a stuttering breath, then blew out the candle.

The taste of the dry leaf vanished — as did the temperature of the room. Not that it went cold, but the temperature no longer affected you. When you went downstairs for dinner, the scent of the food didn’t induce hunger. And while the soup had a pleasing texture, it tasted lifeless on your tongue.

.

You’d forced yourself into bed during the small hours of the night and closed your eyes. When you opened them, it was morning. You weren’t rested, yet you weren’t groggy. Regardless, you lazed in bed to stare at the dim ceiling.

It had been a peaceful night with no pain. That didn’t mean you were safe without the spell. As they said, the absence of evidence wasn’t the evidence of absence. Something could still be coming after you.

As you sat up, you wondered if Eddie was safe and if he’d gotten any sleep. Perhaps you should try Wayne again. Eddie could be home. Or maybe Wayne knew where he was.

You went to the phone and dialed the Munson’s number. The line clicked a few times instead of ringing, which sounded as though it was being monitored. You hung up, letting your hand linger on the phone. If the Munson trailer was being monitored, the people doing it didn’t mean you or Eddie any good.

Pressing your other hand over the medicine bag, you prayed for the spell to keep them — whoever they were — from tracking you. Because it was obvious now Eddie was the prime suspect, and if you were going to find him, you needed anonymity. You didn’t want a visit from the police or the FBI or some shady government organization.

After going through your morning routine, you went downstairs. It was quiet with your parents at work. They’d left the morning newspaper folded on the kitchen island. On any other day, you’d throw it out, but the yellow sticky note attached to the front page caught your attention.

The newspaper headline read, ANOTHER FOREST HILLS MURDER. Mom wrote on the sticky note, Don’t leave the house.

You peeled the note from the newspaper to scan the article. It wasn’t just the location of this murder that copied Chrissy’s. This victim was a Hawkins High student who died from fatal internal bleeding and multiple bone fractures. You hoped it wasn’t Eddie. With the numbing effect of The Veil of Undeath, you weren’t sure you’d be able to feel if he died.

The article only identified the victim as an eighteen-year-old male. That detail had you relaxing, because Eddie wasn’t eighteen. That also meant the victim was in your class.

You frowned as you thought someone was targeting high-school seniors. That connection made no sense, though, unless Chrissy and this victim knew their murderer. Which didn’t narrow the pool of suspects, honestly. Everyone knew everyone else.

The article didn’t mention if the victim was a resident of Forest Hills, either. You had to assume he’d snuck into the neighborhood. To do what, though? Was he some dipshit looking to catch Chrissy’s killer? Did he want a souvenir?

With midday television news hours away, you returned to your room. Before leaving the kitchen, you threw away the newspaper, poured yourself a glass of juice, and grabbed a granola bar from the pantry. You weren’t hungry or thirsty, but you needed fuel.

In your room, you turned on lights and brought out all your spell books. There had to be at least one tracking spell. You spread the books across your bed, then drew one onto your lap. It didn’t have an index, and its chapter titles weren’t overly descriptive, but that was typical.

You tore open the granola bar’s wrapper, took a flavorless bite, and began skimming the book.

An hour later, your phone rang. You dropped the book you’d been reading as the phone rang again. Maybe it was Eddie. You scrambled off the bed, heart in your throat. Paper and pens and books clattered to the floor in your wake.

You picked up the phone in the middle of the third ring.

“Hello?”

“He didn’t do it,” said a young male in lieu of a greeting.

It only took a second to understand he referred to Eddie.

“I know he didn’t,” you said. Eddie was alive. “He’s not like that.”

“He told me to tell you she was a customer — and she was attacked.”

You nodded and steadied yourself with a hand on the desk. You’d known deep down he wouldn’t have hurt Chrissy, but it was nice to have the confirmation.

“I believe you.” The tight coil in your chest loosened. “Is he okay?”

“As okay as you can get while being on the lam.”

A small laugh bubbled out unbidden, and you closed your eyes.

“Where is he?”

“He swore me to secrecy.”

You snorted, because, yeah, that sounded like Eddie. “Oh, like he’s the brains of the operation over there.” Eddie was smart, but he wasn’t using every resource at his disposal, i.e. you. Instead, he relied on his little sheepies. “You’re one of the freshmen, right?”

The other end of the line went silent, which was answer enough. Your gut said this particular sheepy was Dustin Henderson, the clever smart-ass.

“Is he the leader there, Freshman?”

“No, but—”

“Look, I have access to things! Resources. I can protect him.” You waved a hand in the air. “I have a car! I can get him out of town!”

“Do you happen to have a gun?”

In the background, multiple voices shouted, “No!”

Dustin cleared his throat. “Never mind. You can’t get involved. He’d kill me.”

You didn’t want to threaten a freshman with a horrible, slow death if he didn’t tell you where Eddie was hiding. That would be wrong on so many levels. Dustin might be a pain in the ass, according to Eddie, but he was a good kid.

You took a deep breath you knew Dustin heard.

“Tell me, or I’ll track him down myself.”

“He’s on the move.”

Whether that was true or not remained to be seen.

“Makes no difference to me,” you said, hiding your uncertainty about your abilities. “I’ll find him.”

“Please, don’t. He doesn’t want you hurt or in trouble.”

Your eyes flooded as you shook your head. If Eddie thought you’d sacrifice him for your own comfort, he had another thing coming.

“I’ll see you around, Freshman. Be careful, okay?”

You hung up before Dustin could say more.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #stranger things #waywardrose writes #em tagd

[djuvlipen]

I come from a country where being a woman is a crime. Journalism is a crime, being LGBT is a crime, being a dissident is a crime, protesting is a crime, being a human rights activist is a crime. The number of crimes and restrictions in my country are so high that there is no space for freedom. These crimes are punishable by arrest, torture, lashing, imprisonment, rape, and execution. I am here today to receive this special award because of my fight, even if this fight was not my choice, it was my duty.

At the age of 14, I was a victim of the Morality Police for the first time. I believed that it was my duty to fight against the compulsory hijab. Ever since I learned that a woman’s voice, a woman’s dance, and a woman’s body were forbidden, I have been fighting for women’s rights.

When my father was imprisoned, he was locked away for four years and whipped 74 times for protesting against the Islamic Republic. As a result, I could only see him once a week through glass, and I understood it was my duty to fight for freedom of expression.

When I witnessed people being executed for no reason, I decided to fight against the executions. Finally, when I saw that the government was taking the lives of innocent people because of street protests, I decided to fight against the Islamic Republic’s very nature. After my fifth arrest for human rights activism, it only made me more determined to continue my fight.

The clothes I wore every day to leave the house were not ordinary clothes, but war clothes, and outside the house was a battlefield. I took every opportunity to walk without the mandatory hijab in the streets and I was sharing my pictures on social media. It didn’t take long for them to come for me. When I went to the morality police building, I was also 22 years old, and I was interrogated in the same building where Mahsa Amini, a 22-year-old Iranian girl, was murdered sometime later.

Before entering that building, I made a video of myself with my scarf over my shoulder and shared it on my social media pages. I announced that I was not afraid of being arrested or being threatened, and I was saying ‘No’ to the compulsory hijab and the Islamic Republic. My father, who was with me and supporting me, was beaten in front of my eyes. We were both arrested, and he was sentenced to 74 lashes, while I was sentenced to jail and fined.

The judge said that the hijab is a mandatory law and that you have to respect it. I replied that slavery was also a law at one time. As a woman and a citizen of this country, I not only disregarded this false law, but I strived to destroy it. The last time I came out of prison, I was expelled from university, I was not allowed to work, we were banned from leaving the country and I was sentenced to six years in prison. They wanted to put so much pressure on me that I would surrender and not be able to live. But I was fighting to live and be free.

I was not permitted to leave the country and I decided to illegally escape from Iran. In the last moments, the border guards opened fire on me several times. For the last time, I looked at my homeland. From the top of the mountain. I had to leave my motherland, which I loved so much. There I decided to fight for all those who chose to live the life of an exile until the day when their country is a safe place to live. The day when being a woman is no longer a crime in this country. The day when the answer to protest will not be a bullet and no one should be imprisoned for his opinion and no one should be sentenced to death for protesting.

Today, it has been 513 days since my father was disappeared, like so many other Iranians who are seeking freedom. I realized that I had to fight harder and harder for the life that has been stolen from me, my family and the people of my country, by the Islamic Republic. As I am speaking to you today, many Iranians are fighting in the streets, and it is a daily exercise to achieve freedom, and they know that freedom is the only way to be saved.

In the protests that followed Mahsa Amini’s murder, at least 530 people were killed, including 64 children, and at least 500 people were shot in the eye. Tens of thousands of protesters have been arrested and more than 100 are facing the death penalty, four of whom have been executed so far.

Their names were:

Mohsen Shekhari

Majidreza Rahnroud

Mohammad Mehdi Karmi

Mohammad Hosseini

All of them were under forty years old, and all were professional workers and athletes.

The Iranian people are deprived of their most basic rights and have no choice but to fight back. Our revolution has not stopped. These days, despite all the repression, Iranian women go to war against the Ayatollahs with their hair as a weapon. We are on the road to a glorious revolution of Women, Life, and Freedom. The protests and repression have also affected Iranian universities and schools. It is a huge crime that the government is attacking the girls’ schools with chemical gas to take revenge on the women. Many female students are taken to hospital because of the poisoning.

I am speaking to governments, institutions, and free-minded people around the world. Today, when the Islamic Republic is in its most vulnerable position, support the brave men and women of Iran. Treat the criminal government of the Islamic Republic as an occupier and list the Islamic Revolutionary Guard, whose duty is to protect the government and kill people, as a terrorist organization. Because my country is being occupied by one of the most ruthless dictators in history and my people have been taken hostage. Taking hostages has become a tool to silence the opposition and win concessions from Western governments.

I thank you for honoring me with this award. I dedicate it to my brave companions, especially the Iranian women, who are fighting daily against a government that is aggressively anti-women, anti-life, and anti-freedom. They won’t give up until they achieve their goal, and their resilience is an inspiration to the world that is watching.

The victory is ours.

Woman, Life, Freedom.

#Iran #Shima Babaei #Mahsa Amini

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Bright Like The Moon: Chapter 11

Chapter 11: I Got Soul, But I’m Not A Soldier 

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI 

Fandom: Night Hunter 

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Black!OFC  

Word count: 3K 

Summary: Kamaria Mansfield is hired at the Minnesota Police Department as an intern. Detective Walter Marshall is overworked and unsatisfied. Takes place post-film. 

Chapter Summary: Kamaria’s attackers are sentenced. Walter devises a plan. 

Chapter warnings: a teeny bit of court stuff (sentencing), angst, panic attack, vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving), p-in-v sex, creampie

A/N: I AM NOT A LAWYER, nor do I pretend to be one. I did a little research(pray for my search history), and that’s it. Suspend your belief a bit here, folks. Un-beta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 

Dividers: @firefly-graphics 

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me, model for Cover Art credits 

Cross-posted on AO3 

~*~Spotify Playlist~*~ 

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

Kamaria’s POV 

One Month Later 

I never wanted this whole thing to end up a mini-circus. 

But that’s basically what ended up happening in the few short months since my abduction and assault.  

From the plethora of therapy appointments that both Walter and I have attended to the meetings with my legal team, I thought I was already bogged down with talking about what happened to me.

I told myself that no matter how many times I wrote it down or said it aloud, there was always going to be this piece of me that felt as though I could step right back into that nightmare but I wouldn’t allow myself to. 

I had done so much work to crawl out of that hole and I’ll be damned if I put even a toe back into that deep, dark space ever again. 

But the moment Walter and I stepped into the courthouse today for sentencing, I could barely hold myself together. I knew I would have to see Justin again, which wasn’t great but it wasn’t horrible. He was just another victim and if not for him, I would’ve never got the chance to escape. I might have never seen the love of my life ever again. 

I don’t owe him anything, I know that. It doesn’t make it feel any better knowing he’s going to be facing jail time. And it all stemmed from his involvement with a man who turned my life upside-down. 

Lloyd Hansen. 

His face haunted my dreams. His words haunted Walter. And his actions changed our lives forever. I wanted him to be tortured in some far-off dungeon where no one would be able to hear him scream. I needed him to feel broken, lost, and alone.  

I knew the judge wouldn’t give him the death penalty but I would have loved to have seen him get a lethal injection of Pavulon, potassium chloride, and midazolam. I fantasized about the midazolam failing to sedate him. Maybe the Pavulon kept him immobile while he felt the suffocating feeling of fluid in the lungs. And the potassium chloride without a sedative? The lava slowly tearing through his veins would be unimaginable pain. 

But that daydream would never come to life. I mean, all he did was kidnap and rape me. Let’s not get started on the unfairness of the American legal system. I could be here all day long. 

The uncomfortable wooden bench under me wasn’t enough to distract me from where I was. Walter in my ear with soothing words didn’t stop me from staring at the back of Lloyd’s head the entire time. My worry about what they would do to Justin didn’t stop me from feeling like he deserved to be punished. He still acted in my worst interest whether or not he thought he was doing some version of the right thing by helping me escape. 

I barely pay attention until the sentencing is read. Walter grips my hand tight and I focus my energy on watching the two men stand before the judge to get their lashings. I could tell he wants to bury Lloyd, and he feels somewhat sad for Justin but he would not let it sway his judgment. I take a deep breath and listen as their fates were decided. 

Justin is sentenced to 16 years with the possibility of parole for drug possession and being an accomplice to kidnapping. He cries loudly as the officers take him away. 

Lloyd is sentenced to 70 years without the possibility of parole for criminal sexual conduct in the second degree, rape in the second degree, and kidnapping in the second degree. He smiles, looking back at me to wink before he is taken away. 

Relief was too small of a word for what I felt. It was more like liberation, emancipation, or deliverance. The massive weight of anxiety fell off of my shoulders as if it wasn't glued to me for the past few months. 

My eyes become blurry with unshed tears, I try and blink them away but they fall down my cheeks before I can stop them. Clearing my throat, I try desperately to calm myself but nothing works. I hiccup, my breathing stuttering as I fail at stopping a panic attack from starting. 

Before I know it, Walter is ushering me out into a small room just outside the courtroom. His hands are on my face and he is speaking slowly and clearly, knowing my brain is catching up to the here and now. 

“It’s over, Kam. We never have to see those bastards again. You’re safe with me.” He kisses my forehead and my breathing slows as if it was a button to be pressed, “Are you here with me?” 

I hear his question and look up into his eyes, “I wanna go home. I want you to help me forget all about this. I just wanna be with you and not think about anything else, please?” 

“Of course, Princess.” No sooner are the words out of his mouth is my hand in his and he is walking me out of the room. 

We speak shortly with my attorney, or rather, Walter speaks for me as I'm still a bit in shock at everything. Once hands are shaken and goodbyes are said, we make our way out of the courtroom and out of the courthouse.  

We make it to Walter’s truck and as I get in, I realize how hot he looks in a suit. As he walks around the front, he pulls off his blazer. The way his dress shirt clings to his strong back, wide chest, and defined arms has me salivating. Inside the cab, he notices me staring. 

“What?” He nervously chuckles and his eyebrows shoot up. 

“You clean up nice, you know? I mean, you are sexy in a suit.” I can’t believe I was so anxious this morning that I didn’t notice how the blue in his tie brought out his eyes. 

A pink hue colors the tips of his ears and his neck. I just made Walter Marshall blush. As if reading my mind, he looks around before his eyes come back to me. Biting his lip, he shakes his head. 

“Princess, we are not fucking in this parking structure. As much as I want to bend you over the bed of this truck and fuck you until your moans are bouncing off of the cement walls, I’d much rather have you in bed or the couch or the dining room table.” 

“But Daddy, I want you.” My hand slides over my thigh and underneath the skirt of my dress. 

“You think I don’t want you, babygirl?” He takes my other hand and places it over his hardening length, “I want nothing more than to be inside you. But I’m taking us home first.” He starts the truck and moves out of the spot, starting us on the road home. 

“Yes, Daddy.” I concede, my fingertips touching the gusset of my panties where a wet spot is forming, “Daddy, can you drive with one hand?” I try and get him to touch me in one last hopeful effort. 

Without looking away from the road, his right hand comes to rest on my thigh and gives it a good squeeze. Slowly moving between my legs, he cups my pussy and then moves a single finger up and down the front of my panties. 

He presses a finger in til he feels my clit and rubs there a bit. My moans fill the cab of his truck and I lean back in my seat. Sliding his finger down, he moves my panties to the side to feel the evidence of my arousal. He removes his fingers and sucks them into his mouth before returning them to my entrance. Pressing in, he is welcomed by my wet heat. Starting a rhythm, he oscillates between steady strokes and clit stimulation. 

Before long, we are close to home. During the final stretch of streets, he slows down right as I could feel my orgasm approaching. 

“Fuck, you are absolutely soaked. Poor little pussy really needed some attention. Just hold it for a little longer baby. I’ll let you cum soon enough.” 

“Yes, Daddy.” I moan, my brain tries to keep up but it’s just too flustered with a pre-orgasmic stupor. I don’t even notice that we make it home and are in the driveway until I feel his fingers slip free.  

He reaches his hand up to my lips and I suck them dry, tasting myself on his thick fingers. He grips himself through his slacks and takes his hand away. He looks me up and down then exits the truck. Walking around the front, he keeps his eyes down, unbuttoning his cuffs and folding them up those veiny forearms. Once he reaches the passenger side, he helps me out and closes the door behind me. 

With a giant paw wrapped around my hand, I am being led into the house quickly. As soon as the front door closes, Walter lifts me off my feet and wraps my legs around his waist. Walking the distance to the bedroom, he reaches a hand behind me to unzip my dress. 

He puts me down in the bedroom, and my dress pools at my feet. He kneels to help me step out of the dress. My bra and panties were the next to go. I stand in front of him in a simple pair of black heels. 

“Any objection to the heels staying on?” He asks, letting a new fetish be known. 

“No, Daddy,” I murmur, suddenly struggling to keep myself together given that he is fully clothed and I am in my birthday suit. 

“Good. Sit down and open those legs wide for Daddy, Princess.” His hands roam from my ankles to my inner thighs before he kneels between my open legs.  

Walter’s POV 

Using my thumbs to open her outer labia delicately, I'm pleased to see her honey dripping. She was so worked up in the truck and this poor little pussy is ready to burst. 

But not yet. I’m going to tease it first. 

I gather some of her juices on a finger and swirl it around her clit, but I never quite make contact with the swollen bundle of nerves. I kiss her inner thighs and nip at them which always makes her groan and I am once again showered in her sex noises. She has the best fucking sounds. From her words to the sounds her body makes, it’s all beautiful. 

I move my finger to circle her entrance and slip in slowly. Her hands go to her breasts, she knows I haven’t given her permission to touch me yet. She also knows that grabbing my hand will only stop my movements. But she is always allowed to touch herself while I’m taking care of her cunt. 

Her tight heat envelops my finger and I move in and out of her folds. It’s torturously slow and I can feel her body trembling with the anticipation that I’ll either speed up or add another finger.  

When I don’t do either, she wiggles her hips and whines. The quick slap to her clit has her remembering to use her words. 

“Daddy, can you please use two fingers? Please? I need it,” The sound of her begging is music to my ears. 

Instead of answering, I wet another finger in her nectar and slide it in slowly to let her adjust to the thickness. The immediate squeeze around my fingers is mind-blowing. I can feel her inner muscle on my fingertips and I massage it gently, but not enough to let her cum. 

Leaning in, I circle my tongue around her clit as my finger did before. Only this time, I relent and give her clit sharp flicks with my tongue. She’s putty in my hands and that’s how I like it.  

All she needs is me, and all I need is her. 

I take her nub into my mouth and suck it gently, still tonguing it ever so gently. With the mix of her in my mouth and on my fingers, it’s not long before my cock is hard as a rock and pressing against the front of my boxer briefs. 

I squeeze myself through my slacks and go back to eating this delicious pussy. I decide she can cum and I speed up my fingers and suck her bud harder. The moans that flow from her signal that she is close and I relish the change in the room when she finally lets go. 

Curling my fingers, I continue to stroke inside her as she rides out her orgasm. Giving kitten licks to her clit as her hips wiggle, no doubt feeling very sensitive. It’s not that I don’t care, it’s just that the more sensitive she is, the harder her next orgasm will be and I wanna feel that one on my dick. 

With my fingers still inside her, I stand up and unzip my slacks and pull out my painfully hard length. Pulling out of her warmth, I use that hand to stroke myself. I watch her as she watches me use her cum as lube.  

Moving her up the bed, I climb in. With one hand on her stomach, I use the other to position myself at her entrance. Sliding home, I groan at the sensation of her core molding to my girth.  

It is always so surprising that it never gets old. I love that first moment of being inside her. Letting her adjust to my fat dick for a moment, I pull back and push back in. I hold both of her thighs open so I have full range to fuck her. 

Pushing her legs back as far as they will go without hurting her, I start a punishing rhythm. The slap of our bodies moving together is a symphony. The movement of her breasts and stomach reminds me of an ocean wave ebbing and flowing. This woman is perfect, inside and out. 

Letting go of her legs, I lean down and kiss her passionately. Holding her close, I continue to fuck into her. In this position, I can stimulate not only her G-spot but her clit as well. 

It’s not long until I feel her breathing hitch and feel her pussy fluttering around me. Her moans turn into sobs as her orgasm takes over her. I grind my hips into hers and help her to stretch it out. 

I get back up on my knees, my hands on either side of her head. I look down into her eyes for a moment and resume kissing her cervix with my tip. She throws her head back and I take the opportunity to kiss and suck at her neck. Leaving lovebites behind isn’t usually my style.  

But anything goes today. And she is gonna have to try and cover up evidence of my love. On her espresso skin, I have to suck very hard to leave a mark. Challenge accepted. 

Her hands are in my sweat-slicked curls before long and we reclaim eye contact. Something in her eyes draws me in and pretty soon, I am fighting to hold off my orgasm. 

Just like she always does, she comes to my rescue. 

“Daddy, I need your cum inside me. Please cum for me?” Her big brown eyes pierce through me like a fucking bullet and I’m done for. 

“I’m gonna cum for you, Princess. Fuck! Ugh,” With one last press forward, my balls tighten and I shoot my load into her greedy little snatch. I feel like I’m cumming for what feels like a full minute. 

I stay inside her, attempting to regain control of my body and my brain. She strokes the hair at the nape of my neck and I kiss over the already bruising spots on her dark skin. When my softening cock slips from her, I sit back on my heels to look at my handiwork. 

Her swollen pussy is leaking with my spend and I feel that swell of pride inside me. She’s nice and full because of me. I unconsciously rub at her stomach as I watch my jizz leak and I feel her hand on mine. 

She just smiles at me as I look into her eyes. There is something behind that smile, but I don’t have enough brainpower to work through it right now. I lay next to her and pull her into my arms. I listen as her breathing evens out and she falls asleep shortly after. 

Looking down at her, I wipe my thumb across her brow and she stirs a bit before settling back to sleep. I smile and try to get my brain to work, but it’s to no avail. She’s wiped me out and I couldn’t be happier. 

There are a few things that would make me happier. But all in due time. I figure I’ll start small and work my way up. 

Step 1: Ask her to move in with me because she already basically lives here. 

Step 2: Ask her to be my wife because I already made up my mind that she is the love of my life. 

Step 3: Ask her to make a baby with me because she’s so great with Faye and seeing that belly of hers swollen with my child would make me so happy. 

But I will worry about all that later. We can take our time with everything. Neither of us is very keen on rushing things. But one thing is for certain. 

We want to spend the rest of our lives together. That’s what matters. 

Chapter 12 (coming soon) 

A/N: Welcome back to my story. Haven’t posted since June. I missed my babies. Songs for this chapter are All These Things That I’ve Done by The Killers and Streets – Silhouette Remix by Doja Cat. 

**Tag List** 

@brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67 @enchantedbytomandhenry @astheskycries @rebelangel1102 @deandoesthingstome @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @foxyjwls007 @rosiesluv7 @livisss @slut4henrycavilll 

Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁 

#walter marshall #walter marshall fanfic #walter marshall x black!plus size female #walter marshall x black!plus size female oc #walter marshall x ofc #walter marshall x black!ofc #ellethespaceunicorn fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill #walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall fic #night hunter #night hunter fanfic #night hunter fanfiction #bright like the moon

[the-garbanzo-annex-jr]

by Rikki Hollander

Anti-Zionist/anti-Semitic activists whose life’s mission it is to delegitimize the Jewish state have been going through a rough patch as they’ve seen Western support for their mission drop in the wake of the atrocities perpetrated by Hamas and other Palestinian terrorists on civilians in Israel — including the targeting of infants in their cribs and of the elderly and infirm, of women and children, as well as men who were either brutalized, tortured, raped, burnt alive, decapitated, massacred or taken hostage — all as a means of achieving Hamas’ stated goal of annihilating the Jewish state and its Jewish residents. The date of the Palestinian terrorist invasion, Oct. 7, 2023, marked the deadliest day for Jews since the Holocaust.    

To be sure, there are still some supporters in the West who celebrate the carnage in Israel unleashed by the terrorists and others who justify the massacres, but the vast majority of Americans and international leaders have expressed solidarity with Israel –lighting up landmarks all over the U.S., as well as in Paris, London, Rome, Berlin, Madrid in Israel’s blue and white colors. They understand and have expressed recognition of the existential threat faced by Israel from its neighboring, Palestinian genocidal terrorist regime and the Palestinian leaders who refuse to condemn its savage actions.

Ever since the Oct. 7 Hamas attack awakened this sense of solidarity with Israel, the anti-Zionist activists have been urgently scrambling to shift the narrative, justifying Hamas actions as “the right of colonized people…to resist the occupation of their land by whatever means they deem necessary,” attacking “the governments of the colonial West for… hypocritically standing with apartheid Israel and duly adopting its deceptive timeline of the current ‘violence’ as if it all began on Saturday with the powerful armed reaction of the oppressed Palestinians in Gaza” and trying to change the conversation to condemning the Israeli Defense Force’s targeting of Hamas strongholds and weaponry even while trying their best to avoid civilian collateral deaths — by falsely branding Israel’s actions as war crimes.

In the midst of all this, a brutal murder took place in the U.S. The victims were a 6-year-old, innocent Palestinian boy stabbed to death and his mother, who was injured in a stabbing by his family’s deranged landlord who entertained paranoid delusions about the Palestinian Muslim family killing him after reportedly hearing news stories about the massacres by Palestinian terrorists in Israel. 

Enter the anti-Zionist activists who cynically exploited the tragic event for their own purposes as they attempted to attack Israel and connect it to Israeli military actions. Ahmed Rehab , Executive Director of the Chicago Office of the Council on American-Islamic Relations (CAIR) and CAIR’s National Strategic Communications Director, spoke at a press conference alongside the family members of the victims where he essentially blamed the support expressed for Israel and condemnation of Hamas actions as contributing to the murder and tried to turn the conversation to allegations of  crimes by Israel. He said:

“I blame the murderer for the murder, but also I ask all people of conscience, I ask our leaders, I ask our media to what extent …was [the murderer] radicalized and brainwashed by this lopsided, one-sided atmosphere that has fanned the flames of hatred against Muslims and Palestinians. And just as the families of these Palestinian-American citizens back in Gaza and in Palestine are suffering from what is now being called war crimes – blanket bombings, etc. – and this boy, this family who sought refuge in the United States  have now been stabbed – one is killed and one is in serious condition, we fear for her life.  And I was speaking to the father and he said part of the reason we came here was to escape the settler-violence in which situations like this could occur with impunity, and it chased us all the way to the United States.”

Rehab used his platform to attack not only Israel and its supporters, but he impugned Jews, as well, for the murder by insinuating, without an iota of evidence, that the murderer, Joseph Czuba, was a Jew. In fact, he was not. (Czuba and his wife belong to a Catholic church in Plainfield, Ill.) Nor was there ever any indication that the perpetrator was of Jewish background. But the opportunity to delegitimize the Jewish state and its Jewish supporters was too good to miss, so despite any evidence, the CAIR spokesman inferred that the murderer  was a Jew radicalized by the news reporting from Israel.

Lest anyone still doubts that anti-Semitism is inherent in the anti-Zionist narrative depicting Jews in Israel as settler-colonialists responsible for all the violence in the Middle East and Jewish supporters responsible for violence elsewhere in the world, and lest they doubt the anti-Zionist/anti-Semitic agenda of CAIR, just listen to its spokesman’s words and innuendo. Watch below.

#cair #antisemitism #ahmed rehab

[beardedmrbean]

Shamima Begum has lost an initial bid to challenge the removal of her British citizenship at the Supreme Court.

The 24-year-old had requested permission from the Court of Appeal to take her case to the UK's highest court.

The government stripped her citizenship on national security grounds in 2019, leaving her stateless.

Ms Begum left London nine years ago aged 15 to travel to Syria and join the Islamic State group, or IS.

Earlier this year, three judges at the Court of Appeal unanimously dismissed her bid to regain her citizenship.

She now has the option to ask the Supreme Court directly for permission to have her case heard.

Delivering the Court of Appeal's rejection in February, Lady Chief Justice Baroness Carr said: "It could be argued the decision in Ms Begum's case was harsh. It could also be argued that Ms Begum is the author of her own misfortune.

"But it is not for this court to agree or disagree with either point of view. Our only task is to assess whether the deprivation decision was unlawful. We have concluded it was not, and the appeal is dismissed."

Her lawyers have argued that the Home Office's decision to remove her citizenship was unlawful, in part because British officials failed to properly consider whether she was a potential victim of trafficking.

Ms Begum, born in the UK to parents of Bangladeshi heritage, was one of three east London girls who travelled to Syria in 2015 to support the IS group. She left with her friends Kadiza Sultana and Amira Abase.

Ms Sultana is thought to have died when a house was blown up. The fate of Ms Abase is unknown.

Ms Begum lived under IS rule for more than three years. She married a Dutch member of IS, who is currently held in a Kurdish detention centre, and lived in Raqqa, once a stronghold of the group. She had three children, all of whom have died.

She was found in al-Roj camp in northern Syria in 2019 following the defeat of IS, and remains there to this day.

Her lawyers say conditions in the camp have reached a "critical point", with "near starvation" and disease now seen daily.

"The fact of the matter is this - that Shamima, as with other British women and children, is arbitrarily detained in a prison camp in north east Syria," her lawyers said in a written statement on her behalf.

"It is not a refugee camp - those detained are unable to leave and the conditions have, with ever greater urgency, been categorised by every international body as well as by the UK courts in Shamima's case itself, as constituting torture and inhuman treatment."

Ms Begum has admitted knowingly joining a proscribed organisation. She said that she was "ashamed" to have done so and regretted it.

#nunyas news #rot there

[whileiamdying]

Holy Spider: why this Iranian neo-noir is attracting so much controversy

FILM & TV FEATURE

Director Ali Abbasi talks about his new film, Holy Spider – an evocative exploration of misogyny in Iran, which follows the real-life story of early 00s serial killer Saeed Hanaei.

20 January 2023 Text: Nick Chen

Holy Spider seems to have captured a moment. The Persian-language serial-killer thriller, written and directed by Ali Abbasi, is an evocative exploration of misogyny in Iran, and its theatrical release has run in parallel with the country’s protests for women’s rights. However, on a Zoom call from LA in mid-January, the 42-year-old genre-hopper suggests it’s not that simple. “I don’t feel like my movie is a topical movie,” says Abbasi. “It’s not about the plight of Iranian women. It’s not about how bad the government is. It’s a cinematic experience I’m proud of, that I finetuned for many years, and is about something more universal that sometimes gets drowned in the political conversation.

“But I’m happy that every time my movie gets mentioned, the uprising in Iran comes up. It’s such a huge moment. If I can get people’s attention to it, that’s great.”

Though Holy Spider, which was shot in Jordan, resembles an Iran-set Se7en, its lurid, movie-ready plot draws from the real-life case of Saeed Hanaei, a war veteran who murdered 16 women in 2000 and 2001, landing himself the nickname of the “Spider Killer”. As documented by Abbasi’s script, Hanaei’s choice of victim – he sought out sex workers – meant that Mashad’s conservatives considered him to be a local hero.

The support for Hanaei (played with a chilling amiability by Mehdi Bajestani) is particularly sinister as the film’s first half depicts several of the killings from his POV, as well as the façade of a friendly father he presented on the side. So much so, at Cannes, a Guardian critic tweeted, “I hate that I was made to watch this hateful, reprehensible, atrocious motion picture…  I am confident (hopeful?) it will never see the light of day in American theatres.” In actuality, the film was picked up by Neon in the US and MUBI in the UK; it’s also shortlisted as Denmark’s entry for Best International Feature at the Oscars.

Chuckling when I reference the tweet, Abbasi posits that film critics tend to underestimate general audiences, and that they themselves can be narrow-minded. “These people expect something from an Iranian movie,” the director says. “It’s the Nespresso principle. When you go to a festival, you have the cool movie from the US, the edgy movie from Korea, and then the movie about misery told in a metaphorical way that’s heavily censored from Iran. When my movie doesn’t behave like an Iranian movie, they think it’s flawed.”

He continues, “I’ve seen reactions change from Cannes, some from the people who felt the movie was getting pleasure out of women being tortured in close-ups. A few months later, they understood there was a context for it when the uprising in Iran started. Nowadays, I get requests from feminist magazines, and it’s seen as a feminist film.”

After all, the real protagonist of Holy Spider is Arezoo Rahimi, a journalist who tracks down the Spider Killer, even disguising herself as a sex worker to attract his attention. The role is played by Zar Amir Ebrahimi, a casting director for the film who ended up playing the lead when the original actor dropped out at the last moment. While Ebrahimi has prior screen experience – she was a former TV star in Iran who fled the country following the leak of a sex tape – there’s still noticeable grit to a performance that won her the Best Actress prize at Cannes.

‘There’s the DNA of the Islamic Republic in this. The suppression of women and sexuality isn’t a fluke; it’s very much part of the system, and what keeps them going. I think that’s the main reason they’re so angry with us. They look at our movie and see themselves in the mirror. And they don’t like it’

Abbasi himself has a history of bizarre, unconventional films that are oddly watchable despite how their premises read on paper. While Abbasi lived in Iran during the years Holy Spider took place, he went to film school in Denmark, which was where he shot the 2016 slow-burn horror Shelley. However, his breakthrough was 2018’s Border, a Swedish, transgressive, gender-bending romance that toys with prosthetics, trauma, and the endless possibilities of the human body.

Tellingly, Holy Spider thanks two genre titans, Bong Joon-ho and David Lynch, in its end credits. The former, a friend of Abbasi’s, offered feedback on drafts and early cuts; the latter, more of an acquaintance, is a lifelong inspiration. I ask Abbasi to what extent he wanted Holy Spider to be as entertaining as, say, Parasite, when it’s also dealing with real tragedies.

“I don’t do a product,” says Abbasi. “When you do a studio movie, it’s like ice cream. An idea goes through a process of development. Prototypes are tested and tweaked. But my way of working is more intuitive. Do I want it to be entertaining? Yes and no. Because the subject matter is so heavy, it’s important there’s a force against its inertia. I want to give people motivation to wait for the next minute. Some people will find the decisions tasteless, and others vice-versa. It’s something I’m really aware of.”

The Lynch influence is more apparent in the neo-noir lighting of Mashad’s night-time sequences, including a blowjob scene that required a producer to smuggle a prosthetic penis into Jordan. Shortly after the Cannes premiere, Iran’s culture minister Mohammad-Mehdi Esmaeili warned, “If persons from inside Iran are involved with the film Holy Spider, they will surely receive punishment from the Cinema Organisation of Iran.”

“Iran has always been seen as a conservative country,” says Abbasi. “But it’s a country where everything is almost hypersexualised. You’re acutely aware – at least in the heterosexual context – that when you go on a bus, you go to the men’s part or women’s part. You shouldn’t touch women in this way or that way. I worked with women for years without shaking their hand.

“But what makes it very charged is that there’s a whole system that wants to intrude on people’s lives. They want to literally control how and who and where you fuck. At the same time, there are a lot of contradictions. Sex outside of marriage is banned and frowned upon, as is prostitution. On the other hand, you have temporary marriage, which is basically state prostitution that happens in religious offices.”

He continues, “There’s the DNA of the Islamic Republic in this. The suppression of women and sexuality isn’t a fluke; it’s very much part of the system, and what keeps them going. I think that’s the main reason they’re so angry with us. They look at our movie, specifically Saeed’s character, and see themselves in the mirror. And they don’t like it.”

Also during the pandemic, Abbasi was a director on HBO’s adaptation of the videogame The Last of Us. Kantemir Balagov, the intended helmer of the pilot, left due to creative differences, and Abbasi commented to IndieWire in May 2022 that “the Hollywood system is a little bit like working in Iran for me. I can’t do it.”

When asked about those remarks now, Abbasi says, “I just saw the first episode, and I think it’s turned out great. I’m happy and proud of working on it. It’s not like I’m negative about it. Coming from Europe, [Hollywood] has strange rules and regulations, and that’s not a secret. There’s a lack of transparency, and everyone’s afraid of tackling controversial subjects. Those things remind me of Iran, absolutely.

“But Iranian cinema is a propaganda machine for a criminal, ruthless, brutal regime. I don’t think that’s where Hollywood is, really.”

Holy Spider is out in UK cinemas on January 20

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#Holy Spider #Iran #Cinema #Saeed Hanaei #Mohammad-Mehdi Esmaeili #Arezoo Rahimi #Dazed Magazine