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roscgcld · 3 years

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RYOMEN SUKUNA || pretty little thing

note: am I simping for volume 12 cover sukuna once more? ...yes, and am not afraid to admit that. that man can glare at me and i will apologise for gracing him with my unworthy self lmao. but i do enjoy this entire idea of super mean and evil sukuna and his cutesy lover that can do whatever she wants to him and he wouldn’t stop her - not like he wanted to anyway lmao

pronouns: she/her

warning: mentions of murder and acts of murder as well, and if you squint a little there is mentions of minors, but it doesn’t play a big role in the story

The small group of sorcerers stood before the towering man, trying not to show the fear on their faces as they tried to look at the glowing red eyes head on. Sukuna was seated on his throne, two of his four arms resting on his while another was propping up his cheek; the other tapping his fingers on the plush fabric of his throne. He hated having his time wasted on useless things, and the socerers before him were starting to wear their welcome too thin.

Sighing tiredly, he tilted his head back, a sign that had the sorcerers tensing up. They knew that body language all too well - if they do not tell him what was the purpose of them coming all the way to him temple, and even daring to walk up to his alter will lead him to murdering them all in cold blood.

He doesn’t care how important they are in the town, or in jujutsu world either - to him, he is the most important. And everyone else is beneath him.

Well, everyone but one person, that is.

As if the Gods took pity on them, the soft sound of delicate footprints came from somewhere beside the group, causing the group to stop their whispers between one another at the sound of soft footsteps. Within seconds a beautiful woman walked out from the shadows and into the main room of the temple, her kimono trailing behind her delicately. The beautiful crafted garment hung on her frame perfectly; not too tight where it left little to the imagination, yet not too loose to hide her beautiful figure underneath it either. It was clearly crafted by a master craftsman, and the fabrics it was made of show how expensive it must have been.

A hana kanzashi was delicately placed on her perfectly styled hair, a streams of flowers hang off the end of the pin, giving the woman a more mysterious look as the sunlight casted a shadow over half of her face. She gave the sorcerers no more than an uninterested glance, trying not to roll her eyes at the sight of the group of mostly men - the same group of elders in her town that were so willing to sacrifice young girls to the man before them in exchange for peace.

She would know - she was one of those sacrifices, after all. However, the difference between her and the others was that instead of being killed after their purpose was done, Sukuna was now wrapped around her finger tightly. She can’t be too proud of it either; she was equally as obsessed with him as he was with her, so the better word to describe it might be mutual pining.

Sukuna will never admit that though, claiming she is just a foolish woman he likes keeping around for food and a warm body. But if she tries to get up and leave, or if he knows people are even thinking about bringing her harm? The world would suffer through Hell like they’ve never seen before.

Speaking of the man - Sukuna’s ruby red eyes watched as the woman made her way towards him, carefully climbing the steps of his alter like it was her own home; a soft pout resting on her lips as she walks closer to him. He didn’t get the usual burst of annoyance when anyone dared to look at him in eyes, or the anger he’d feel of having someone even daring to take one step towards the direction of his throne. Yet all he felt was amusement as he shifted in his seat ever so slightly; watching how the woman just made her way towards him and sat down in his lap like it was her throne.

Which it was after all, and Sukuna will let her indulge herself in such a luxury. He loves to spoil her, letting her do as she pleases

“Yes, my beautiful flower?” He hums softly as the hand that was once tapping his fingers along his seat reached up, stroking the apple of her cheek delicately as he raised an eyebrow at her. At that moment he didn’t care who was in the room - all that mattered was her. And he has a gut feeling he knows why she is currently sporting that cute pout of hers, her arms crossed over her chest adorably. “You’re taking too long. I got cold.”

Immediately a low chuckle rumble from somewhere in his chest as his other arm wrapped around her protectively, his tattoos a contrast against the unmasked skin of her bare thigh that was revealed by his simple action of pulling her closer. “We can’t have that now, can we?” He cooed ever so softly, something so foreign and so unheard of coming from a cold hearted killer that it scared the already terrified sorcerers even more. A few of them were even shaking at the sight of the woman, who was a mere girl when she was scarified, now perched in the lap of such a fearsome creature like she was a lazy house cat.

How can such a relation be so natural?

“What a pretty little thing she is, isn’t she?” Sukuna suddenly stated loudly, his ruby red eyes now dull and clearly showing his boredom as he turned to address the sorcerers before him once more. The woman from before just smiles softly as she curls up into his warmth, not caring about the others in the room; quietly purring at the feeling of a large hand stroking along her face delicately. An action that might seem hard for a man his size to achieve, yet he still somehow manages to treat her like fine china beneath his fingertips.

“I should thank you for being blind enough not to keep a beauty like this for yourselves, but it’s because of your blindness that landed her in my lap in the first place.” Sukuna continued into the silent room, the hand that was once cradling his cheek waved in the air lazily; a smirk tugging against his tattooed face. “All the ones you sent before as sacrifices were quite sad little things; blubbering and whining so much that I rather send their heads back to you so you can see just how pathetic they really were.” He sighs in annoyance, his face curling a little as he remembered all the past women he had.

Some were pretty, yes - but there was just something about them that just irked him. He didn’t know what it was; maybe it was their constant crying, or how they try to pretend to be head strong and threaten to kill him in his sleep. He just took what he wanted before slicing their head off just as he climaxes; not really caring for their own pleasure. It’s not his problem if they were satisfied or not.

However, when his little flower came, sniffling with tearful eyes at how she had been yanked away from her loving family; yet eyes curiously staring up at the man that she had heard so many stories about. There was just something in him that lets him know that she was the one. That she was the one that is going to scratch that insatiable itch that he has whenever he is sent a new sacrifice from the town that he is currently residing in. And he was right. “Yet, with that being said, that doesn’t mean I am not growing tired of your antics. Speak now before I make you.”

Immediately a few eyes glanced over at the woman in his lap, as if they were silently begging for her to lend them a hand. Yet this actual caused Sukuna to scowl as he looks over at the group, snapping his fingers to drag their attention back to him. “Who gave you the permission to turn your disgusting gazes at her? She can’t help miserable excuses like you lot anyway.” He scowls, his eyes narrowing in anger at how they thought they even worthy enough cast their dirty eyes on her, as if she would extend the olive branch to them after they’ve done.

Before he can do anything rash, the woman decided to step in, gently placing her warm hand against the exposed part of his chest from underneath the kimono he had worn. The feeling of the familiar touch caused him to sigh softly as he leans back into his throne once more, but he glared at them with the same intensity as before, watching them for a moment longer. “You know what? I think I know what to do with you lot. I mean, I hope you didn’t forget - you did make my little flower cry.”

Just as he finished saying that, he gave them all a sadistic smile before he swiped his hand in the air leisurely. His other arms immediately wrapped around the woman, turning her face away from the scene before them as the sorcerers all started to be sliced up one by one by invisible blades, the sound of wails and body parts flying about as they landed on the ground in bloody heaps. A few. who watched their fellow comrades be sliced up in horror before they tried to run, turning and running towards the entrance as if they can escape their fate.

They should know better than to try something so foolish.

“The clean up is going to be a pain, you know.” Y/N sighed softly as she looks up at her lover, knowing that he was shielding her from the horrors he had committed. If she was being honest, she had never seemed to fear how easily he dispose of others - whenever he does kill people, it usually leads to a much more wider and bigger picture at the end of the day. What she can’t stand though, is the mess he tends to leave behind. “The maids just cleaned the rugs too.”

“It’s their job, flower.” He just sighs and shifted her so she was straddling his lap leisurely, letting her hands rest against his warm chest as two of his arms wrapped around her waist. One of them rested against her cheek lovingly, letting her lean into his touch once more whilst his other hand went back to cupping his cheek in his hand. “You can still make it less dramatic, no?” She mumbles softly with a soft giggle, to which Sukuna just rolled his eyes at her comment.

“Why make killing so dull? I enjoy the flare of dramatics, flower.”

With a fond roll of her eyes she just leans forward to press soft kisses along his face, knowing that he will not push her away; not when his arms tighten their own hold on her. “Whatever you say, my King.” She cooed at him quietly, still placing feather-like kisses against his face as he closes his eyes for a moment. Soon he grew bored of them, and with a firm hand on the back of her head, guiding her face down to his. He presses a passionate kiss against her as she smiles, her hands trailing up his chest before they found themselves wrapped around his neck where they belong.

Maybe it was an obsession, or maybe it really is fate - whatever the reason may be, he’s going to make sure that his little flower is safe and content. Even if it means killing an entire army of people at her command, or tearing out his heart for her if she so much so as asks.

He is her slave, and he doesn’t see a reason to fight against his faith.

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thebeltanequeen · 3 years

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The (Blurred? Nonexistent? Inconsequential?) Line Between Canon and Fanon: An Impromtu Essay by Me

I’m currently have an existential crisis. An absolute, balls to the walls, pull my hair out, stare at the walls wondering what the meaning of existence is, kind of existential crisis. Why, you may ask? Because the older I have gotten, the more Fanfiction I have read. That’s normal. Millions of other people read fanfic like me. Well, in the past few years, I have also realized that the more fanfiction I have read, the less shits I give about the actual canon of the media I love. I care less and less about what “actually” happened, and delve into fanon instead. It’s as if the two have SWITCHED ROLES in my brain. The canon is the lie, and the fanon is the truth. This used to not be the case though, so how did we get here? And why… why is this realization sending me into an absolute spiral of insanity? Why do I feel like I have been sucker punched in the jaw? Let me explain.

I’ve been reading and dabbling in writing my own fanfiction for over twelve years. It used to be an escape, a way to further delve into my latest obsessions and become consumed by them. I have this annoying habit of also picking ships that do NOT become endgame, so I’ve always sought out fanfiction as a balm for my shipper’s soul as well. I still read fanfiction as if my life depends on it… but now it’s at the expense of reading new books. Watching new media. When I do eventually dip my toes into a new fandom, I either reject it quickly or become consumed again and make a grab for fanfiction… but in the past few years, something in not only me, but in fandoms in general has shifted.

The difference between me now, and me back then is this… I used to uphold the canon as sacred. Untouchable. Set in stone. The only credible source for the media I consume. All of the fanfiction I read was just beautiful window dressing. A lovely past time to further increase my dopamine intake.

This is no longer the case.

Now, when I read and write fanfiction, it’s as if it is an act of protest. I am actively seeking to reform the narrative. It’s to “take back” the story, the characters, EVERYTHING, for myself. To make it anew. To make it perfect. I’m not alone either. I see you. I see all of you. Now more than ever, I see more and more of us doing this exact same thing.

THIS is why I am having an existential crisis. I have just realized that I will no longer be content with the canon. Ever. Even the canon of my favorite media. It’s not enough. It’s no longer enough. It won’t ever be enough again. Why? Because there will always be places where the canon is falliable. The authors of the canon, are falliable. As an author myself, this is at once an alarming yet powerful realization.

I went to college for creative writing. At the beginning of my academic career, I thought of fanfiction as a beautiful fairytale world. It was glorious, but it was other. Separate. Not as credible as canon. Had I read fanfiction better than the media it was based on before I entered college? Absolutely, but in my head it still didn’t matter because the canon was the word. The canon was the law. As a writer, I held the power of the author (and by extension the power of myself) as sacred. By the end of college, that began to change.

The more I was taught about writing, the more I came to realize that sometimes, authors are just straight up WRONG. Sometimes, there’s soooooo much potential… AND THEY JUST FUCK IT UP!!!!!!! The bones are incredible, but the canon is weak, the logic is lacking, the story makes no sense, the characters don’t reach their full potential and you know what? I’m tired. I’m tired of it. This is why fanon is canon’s salvation. Fanon makes canon look pathetic. But… if I accept the fanon as the reality, and make the canon the lie, does that still make it fanon? No. I don’t think it does. I think fanon has become something other. Something greater.

I have become disillusion by “published” or “credible” books. 95% of the novels I actually buy at the store today are garbage. Trash. Half written nonsense that only serves the purpose of paying people. I’m TIRED OF IT. I’ve become disillusioned by the “power” of the author. I have become disillusioned by canon. FUCK canon, quite frankly. Rip it apart. Dissect it. Take out it’s beating heart and transplant it into a new body. Give it the soul that the narrative was begging for. REVIVE IT. LET YOUR OWN IMAGINATION MAKE IT ANEW. Characters mean too much to people. Fiction means too much to people. Stories mean too much to people for anything less. Only then will you or I be satisfied.

Now, even an impromptu, unedited, gibberish essay is not complete without examples. I’ll start with one that you probably thought of while reading this. Game of Thrones. I think that two years ago, the ending of the most influential show of the entire decade, is where my subconscious began to shift in this direction. Now, I doubt my opionions about GoT are the same as yours, but you know what? It DOESN’T MATTER because FANON CAN FIX THE CANON. The stories that meant so much to millions can be fixed by accepting the fact that THE CANON ISN’T THE LAW! IT FUCKED UP!!!! CANON DOESN’T DESERVE TO SPEAK ANYMORE!!!! TAKE BACK THE STORY AND TRANSFORM IT INTO A VERSION TRULY WORTHY OF THE GLORIOUS BONES IT HAS!!!!!

We also can’t ignore the role that monetization plays in the media we consume. Why leave our fiction in the hands of just the big names? Why let money dictate what is real and not real? WHY SETTLE FOR MEDIOCRE STORYTELLING JUST BECAUSE IT WAS SOLD TO YOU AND THEREFORE IT’S “LEGIT CANON”??? FANFICTION IS FREE, AND THE MOST BEAUTIFUL PIECES OF WRITING I’VE EVER READ WERE WRITTEN BY FANFIC AUTHORS WHO DID IT FOR THE STORY. WHO DID IT FOR THE ART. WHO ACTUALLY DID IT JUSTICE. FUCK THE CONCEPT OF FANON AND CANON. THE STORY WE WANT IS ALL THAT MATTERS. GET MONEY OUT OF HERE.

Ahem. To avoid going on even more of a tangent, I’ll move on and give the example that triggered my existential crisis in the first place. Sailor Moon. To give some background, Sailor Moon is it for me. I have grown up with it. I’ve watched it my entire life. As a child, I ran around with my toy moon rod and desperately wanted to be Usagi. Ironically, I grew up to be quite a bit like her (but with Rei’s temper admittedly). It is my comfort show, my happiness. It makes me laugh, it makes me cry. I never tire of it. It makes my heart swell. I have never, nor will I ever, love any piece of media the way I love Sailor Moon. Flash forward to today, I watched Sailor Moon Eternal, the two new movie adaptations of the Dream arc in the manga (stick with me non-manga and anime lovers). I liked the films, but I was left with a deep, disatisfied yearning. I want back the feeling of complete bliss I experienced while watching the 90’s anime as a child. The problem with this? I’ll never get it back. I’ve just realized this. I’ll NEVER get it back. Why? Because it’s no longer the perfect version of Sailor Moon that it was to my young eyes. Crystal, while good, is also not the perfected version I seek in my adulthood, and Eternal has not scratched my insatiable itch. I am heartbroken because I’ve realized that Sailor Moon in its perfect form doesn’t exist anymore. If I held any canon sacred, it was this. But the story is flawed. The manga is flawed. The anime is flawed. It’s not infallible, as much as it truly, deeply hurts me to admit to the world and to myself. The only perfect version of Sailor Moon is the one in my heart. It’s the one I choose to piece together for myself with the building blocks that others who came before me have handed over.

Another, more recent example of falliable canon is The Grisha Verse. More specifically, the Shadow and Bone trilogy. I was brought in to the fandom by Ben Barnes’ depthless eyes and magnificent scruff. And you know what? I liked the story, but I stayed for Ben Barnes. I liked the Darkling so much that I bought the entire grisha verse books. It was a premature decision. I’ve only made it halfway through Storm and Seige, and you know what? I’m tired of the canon already. It’s not that great. The bones are there, but it could be SO. MUCH. MORE. I haven’t read the crow books yet, and by all accounts Leigh Bardugo has improved tremendously as a writer. Which incidentally proves my point. Authors are falliable. Ergo, the canon is falliable. I can’t help but think while I read these books, “Damn. I could write this better.” and you know what? I’ve read fanfics that HAVE written it better.

Am I saying this to trash Bardugo? Or even GRRM? (Yes I admit to trashing D&D but that’s beside the point ahem…). NO. I am NOT trashing the writers. I’M A WRITER. I GET IT. YOUR STORY IS YOUR BABY. I G E T I T . But I’ve realized, and what I think future authors will also have to realize, is that fiction doesn’t belong to anyone. As soon as it’s out the door, the fiction no longer belongs to the author. It belongs to us. The people. That’s what is beautiful about fanfiction. It’s not here for the money. It’s not here for the clout. It’s here for the fiction itself. Plain and simple. It belongs to no one and everyone.

In the past, I would have fought this. I would have wanted my work’s canon to be law. To be the word, the truth, the way etc. Now? I can’t be a hypocrite. I can’t be selfish. It isn’t about the author. It’s about the vision. It’s about the story, the narrative, the characters. It’s about art. And sometimes, the authors give birth to the idea (and they deserve credit for that without a doubt), but it’s also true that sometimes, someone else just writes it better. Someone else quite simply saw the vision, the story, the characters, more clearly than the author did. I make this vow now, as an author, to strive for the vision. If someone takes my vision and does it better than me, that only improves my perspective of my own story. It improves the world of fiction as a whole. It makes me better.

So, canon? Fuck the canon. Take back the story. Take back the characters. Take back the art. Fiction is ours. It belongs to us, and we can do with it what we please. Let’s strive for OUR OWN perfected version of the media we love. Canon doesn’t truly exist. The concept of Fanon doesn’t even exist anymore in the way we used to think of it. The author’s version of events is their own Fanon of the story. Canon is meaningless now. There is only the story that you accept in your own mind. There is only the story that I accept in my own mind, no matter how different it is from yours. There is only the art. There is only the limitless potential of countless people’s imaginations. Let’s continue to collaborate and celebrate beautiful stories together, in any conceivable way, over and over and over again, until the end of time.

Fin

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pewtercity-citizen · 7 years

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So You Wanna Punch Nazis? Here’s a 3-Step Guide

Let’s all be realistic with how the world is doing: It sucks. Sure, we are getting our advancements here and there, and some progress in other areas. But, telling by the fact the world “Nazi” has been thrown into this article within the first five words, the chances are that there’s a good— and depressing— reason for that.

Recently, there’s a video going around of an unknown man absolutely clocking the shit out of Neo-Nazi Richard Spencer. If that sounds funny to you, it gets better, because you can see it for yourself right here. But wait, there’s more! As if the insatiable fist of justice wasn’t sated enough, Neo-Nazi Spencer was then punched a second time. Pretty soon, the man is going to have to wear a motorcycle helmet and a mouth guard just to mow his lawn.

And so, the “Punch a Nazi” movement has been given the highest honor of recognition: memes.

To be fair, punching a Nazi feels pretty damn good. I’ve never done it, but it must if everyone wants to do it. After all, they’re Nazis. But now, I’m gonna bring up that guide I mentioned in the title. I’m sorry to say that it’s not a “how-to” guide on how to punch a Nazi. If you want that guide, here’s the video again. No, this is a guide to the preparation of the action, namely, the mental preparation. Yes, you have to mentally prepare yourself to assault someone— anyone— even if they’re a Nazi. “Are you saying Nazis deserve sympathy?!” No, it just bring me to my first point…

1. Make Sure They’re Really a Nazi

Neo-Nazi Richard Spencer has truly spoiled us. A real-life Nazi! Wowzers! Right out in the open just waiting for the ol’ one-two! For those of you quick to defend Neo-Nazi Spencer, here’s a few helpful documents and videos where he declares his stances. Now, here’s the video of him getting punched again. And here’s a direct quote in jpeg format:

Neo-Nazi Richard Spencer is one of the most clear-cut examples of a modern Nazi. Sure, he’s not a “throw the Jews in camps,” Nazi, but that’s because he’s a Nazi of the modern era. God damn it, he’s the best there is when it comes to a true-to-life bag of garbage. And that’s a big problem.

We can’t expect every person we wanna punch to be on the same wavelength of bigotry as Spencer. And yet, that’s exactly what happens. We look at examples like this, and somewhere else, someone does the same thing to someone less deserving, and it hurts everyone. For example, let’s talk about social justice. In just seeing those two words on the screen, you did one of two things: You smiled happily, or you cringed. “Social Justice” is a big-name term, and that’s a good thing. People in the United States can now have topics like transgender rights, women’s rights, police brutality statistics, and cultural appropriation. All of these are great topics, that are now able to be talked about in the modern age, because people have fought (sometimes died) to put these topics on the table. And now, people want to be a part of that movement of change. However, they do this in ways that are almost laughable terrible.

One example is the University of Ottawa, which had a yoga class cancelled due to “cultural appropriation.” Not even a plea to be cancelled, it was actually, completely banned from the university. While cultural appropriation is an actual problem around the world, banning yoga is akin to also banning karate, aikido, acupuncture, incense, meditation, tarot cards, tea, and then the fork, which is a Chinese invention. When you ban enough things, saying that only a certain culture or person of color can utilize that thing, you then have something else on your hands: segregation. Cultural appropriation is useful to tell your friend Mike that his sombrero and fake mustache he bought for Halloween makes him look like a racist tool, or for telling an entire football team that their name is one, big racist dick move. Even if your intention is good, you need to make sure your target is deserving of it.

Now apply this to violence.

Violence adds another layer to this process, being that it comes from anger. Quickly— how many of you have ever gone into a blind rage and never regretted it? I’m guessing very few of you. Anger is a dark room, and every shadow is an enemy to us. Not everyone wants to deal with it either, because hell, even scientist know that anger feels good. But feeling good doesn’t mean it’s right, and not enough people want to work past their anger enough to make a thoughtful decision. So, while you may hear someone on the street say, “I don’t get this whole, ‘Black Lives Matter,’ thing,” you’ve got a few options to analyze the situation and come to a few possible conclusions. Or, you could just call them a Nazi, and scratch that face-punch itch, despite the fact that it could lead to something worse. “How,” you ask?

2. Understand Your Actions May Have Consequences

“But, I’m just punchin’ Nazis!” You say. “What could be bad about that?!” You’d be shocked.

There’s a lot of ways things can go when your fist connects to anyone in the name of freedom. First, understand that your punch can lead to a Nazi punching someone else in retaliation. Not your fault? Doesn’t matter. The moment you justify violence for a purpose you deem “right,” another person somewhere is going to apply the logic to a different situation. Hell, this is how war works. Do you think that anyone we’ve ever been to war with has thought, “Man, I’m gonna get those freedom-loving American sissies! I love being a villain!” No, they’re just another army doing exactly what they’re told just like our army does. We’re so good at justifying our own violence that we’ll make movies about how slaughtering troops from other nations made our troops sad.

But, that still makes Nazis wrong. Just because they don’t see themselves as doing anything wrong doesn’t mean they’re not. Is that confusing? You bet your ass it is, and I’m bringing it up because it’s a piece of knowledge you need to have once you see major Nazi-fueled acts of violence because of actions like the ones against Richard Spencer. And in this case, Nazis aren’t your only problems. The people on your side are going to drive you up the fucking wall.

You know how I mentioned that you need to make sure you’re target it in the wrong before you attack them? Well, coupled now with this point, and you have the four individuals who tortured a kid on Facebook Live. It was the actions of four African-American teens (whose names I omit because I’ll always omit the names of actual fucking monsters), who tortured a disabled white teen (whose name I will also omit because he’s probably sick of hear about himself), all while screaming things like, “Fuck Donald Drumpf,” and “Fuck white people!” We look at those things, and we say “That’s not our movement, they’re outliers,” or, “That doesn’t count.” Understanding that people like this exist counts for a lot. People all across the United States have been on the Fuck Donald Drumpf Express, and I will continue to ride that train into the sunset. And then, we have tension between white people and people of color, which is also reasonably justified. But now you’ve taking on two justifiable causes, and someone dumber than you saw that and said, “yeah, I’ll just find some white kid and torture him, that’s the same thing.”

It bears repeating that still doesn’t mean you shouldn’t throw that punch. It just means that, when you do, know the possibility of what it could lead to. It makes that punch worth a whole lot more, and that reminds me…

3. Take Responsibility

I am not telling you to out yourself. I am honestly hoping that the two individuals who decked Richard Spencer stay in the wind, just so a horde of Nazis doesn’t come barging down their front door with burning crosses in tow.

So, what does it mean to take responsibility? To put it short, it means you have to own your actions. What does that mean? It means don’t be a wuss, you wuss. When you make the active effort to punch a person in their face, especially in the current political climate, you need to be ready to take on what that means for you. If you punch someone— a Nazi or otherwise— they could find you. You might not because to hide yourself as well as Richard Spencer’s assailants, and that means getting caught. You could go to jail, and if you’re either gay or a person of color, that means it’s going to suck a lot more for you than it would normally.

We all like to think that it doesn’t end that way. It’s fun to think about winding ‘em up and clobbering Nazis until this bad time blows over. But, your story could end with you behind bars, only hearing about the good fight from the inside of a cell, and worst of all? You’ve only gotten to punch one measly Nazi.

And you know what? It’s not all bad. People go to jail for worse, and the willingness to do something criminal doesn’t make you a bad person. You know who else has been to jail?

That’s Martin Luther King Jr. Yes, that Martin Luther King Jr. Labelled as a criminal by the people of his time, and he helped usher a new wave of tolerance and understanding to future generations. The man would stand on a podium and talk about the future he saw, and how he would never lose sight of that. That’s called responsibility. The man knew full and well that his life was in danger everywhere he went, and that violence was waiting around the corner for him. He knew this, and fought anyway. And you know what happened? He died for it.

No, you don’t have to be the next Martin Luther King Jr. Hell, you really shouldn’t want that for your own life. You don’t have to be in the same spotlight— looking around corner and watching your own back in the grocery store— but you do have to take responsibility for what your actions may bring. You know who else was incarcerated at some point in time? Georgia Congressman John Lewis.

He’s still alive. He’s even on Twitter, tweeting about it! So you could die, you could get tossed in jail, or you could become Georgia’s next congressman. Either way, fighting for freedom has a price to pay, and you’d better be willing to pay it with a smile on your face.

To summarize: Do you think any target you disagree with on any and all moral levels is a Nazi, or is probably a Nazi? If so, you’re not ready to start punching people. Do you think nothing bad will happen if you punch anybody, even a Nazi? If so, you’re not ready to start punching people. Do you think there’s no actual consequence or responsibility that comes with fighting for a cause? If so, you’re not ready to start punching people.

But! Are you ready to accept that while you may disagree with someone, that doesn’t make them a Nazi, or even a racist, and that a punch isn’t a solution to everything? Do you know that there may be consequences to your actions, even if you’ve done nothing wrong? Do you accept the responsibility that comes with your actions, whether it’s jail time, assault towards you, and continue to speak up and speak out against intolerance and, yes, Nazis? If you answered yes to all of these, congratulations: You’re ready to punch yourself some goddamn Nazis.

Here’s that video again for reference. Be safe!

(Brad Kincaide, 2017)

#Nazis #alt right #Captain America #The OG of Nazi Punching #politics #donald trump #richard spencer #nazi punching #punching nazis #whichever one really it's all good #civil rights #article #america #united states #Brad Kincaide

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