What did Stephen King say about Charlie Kirk’s death that has MAGA lawyers ready to pounce?

You won’t believe the firestorm sparked by a single tweet from the horror legend himself. One post, a few words, and now the internet’s exploding—some call it defamation, others call it truth. It’s a clash of free speech, grief, and politics that’ll leave you questioning who’s really in the right. Buckle up, because this story’s got more twists than a King novel.

[Read the tweet that started it all and decide for yourself – you’ll be shocked at what’s at stake]

On September 10, 2025, the nation was still reeling from the shocking assassination of Charlie Kirk, the 31-year-old conservative activist gunned down during a speaking event at Utah Valley University. The air was thick with grief, anger, and speculation as Americans across the political spectrum grappled with the loss of a figure who, love him or hate him, had become a lightning rod in the culture wars. Then, like a match tossed into dry grass, Stephen King—horror icon, prolific author, and outspoken liberal—posted a tweet that sent shockwaves through social media and beyond. By September 12, that tweet had ignited a legal threat from Kirk’s allies, accusing King of defamation and turning a tragedy into a battleground over free speech, truth, and accountability.

The tweet in question, now deleted but preserved in countless screenshots, read: “He advocated stoning gays to death. Just sayin’.” Posted in response to Fox News host Jesse Watters’ claim that Kirk was “not a controversial or polarizing man” but a “PATRIOT,” King’s words were a Molotov cocktail lobbed into an already polarized discourse. Within hours, conservative figures like Senator Mike Lee and Ted Cruz were calling for lawsuits, branding King’s statement “false and defamatory” and demanding he pay a price for smearing a dead man’s name. The fallout has raised thorny questions: Was King’s claim reckless, or rooted in truth? Can a tweet cross the line into legal liability? And in a moment of national mourning, how do we balance free speech with the pain of a grieving family?

To unpack this, let’s start with the tweet’s context. Kirk’s death was no ordinary tragedy. Shot in the neck by 22-year-old Tyler Robinson during a campus Q&A, Kirk collapsed under a tent stamped with his “Prove Me Wrong” slogan, blood pooling as 3,000 attendees fled in panic. The motive remains murky—Robinson’s manifesto, leaked to X, ranted about “fascist influencers,” but no clear ideology has been pinned down. Kirk, founder of Turning Point USA and a Trump confidant, was a polarizing figure known for his hardline stances on immigration, gun rights, and LGBTQ+ issues. His death, deemed domestic terrorism by Utah authorities, sparked tributes from Trump and vigils nationwide, but also a wave of online vitriol from detractors who saw him as a symbol of division.

King, no stranger to controversy himself, waded into this maelstrom with his characteristic bluntness. The 78-year-old author of Carrie and The Shining has long used X as a megaphone for his progressive views, often targeting conservative figures. His initial post on Kirk’s death, hours after the shooting, called it “another example of American gun violence,” drawing ire for politicizing a tragedy. But it was the “stoning gays” tweet that pushed things over the edge. Posted on September 11, it referenced a 2024 podcast where Kirk, responding to YouTuber Ms. Rachel’s defense of Pride celebrations, cited Leviticus 18:22, saying, “Thou shall lay with another man, shall be stoned to death,” and called it “God’s perfect law when it comes to sexual matters.” Critics argue Kirk was illustrating how some cherry-pick scripture, not advocating violence. King’s tweet, they claim, distorted this to paint Kirk as a hateful extremist.

The backlash was swift. Senator Mike Lee, a Utah Republican, took to X: “This is false and defamatory. It’s a statement made with reckless disregard for the truth. You should get sued for everything you’re worth.” Ted Cruz piled on, calling King “a horrible, evil, twisted liar” and accusing him of shilling for Democrats who “sent $100 billion to the Ayatollah” (a claim unrelated to Kirk). Conservative influencer Paul Szypula tweeted, “King is defaming the memory of Charlie Kirk,” urging an apology. By September 12, posts on X were amplifying calls for Kirk’s estate—led by his widow, Erika, and their two young children—to sue King for defamation, with hashtags like #SueStephenKing trending alongside #CharlieKirkLegacy.

King, under pressure, deleted the tweet and issued a rare apology on September 12: “I apologize for saying Charlie Kirk advocated stoning gays. What he actually demonstrated was how some people cherry-pick Biblical passages.” He followed up, addressing Cruz directly: “This is what I get for reading something on Twitter w/o fact-checking. Won’t happen again.” But the apology didn’t quell the storm. Conservative outlets like Breitbart and Fox News ran headlines accusing King of “doubling down” by implying Kirk’s rhetoric was still problematic. Meanwhile, progressive voices, like Out.com, defended King, noting that Kirk did reference stoning positively in the 2024 clip, even if his intent was rhetorical. “King was right,” their editorial argued, “despite the forced apology.”

So, does the legal threat hold water? Defamation law in the U.S. is notoriously tricky, especially for public figures like Kirk. To win a defamation case, Kirk’s estate would need to prove King’s statement was false, made with “actual malice” (knowing it was false or with reckless disregard for the truth), and caused tangible harm, like financial loss or reputational damage. Legal experts are split. “It’s a stretch,” says UCLA law professor Eugene Volokh in a phone interview with Newsweek. “Kirk’s comments on Leviticus are public record, and King’s tweet, while inflammatory, falls under opinion more than fact.” But others, like First Amendment attorney Marc Randazza, argue the tweet crosses a line: “Calling someone an advocate for murder when they were clearly making a rhetorical point could meet the malice standard, especially since Kirk can’t defend himself now.”

The stakes are high for both sides. For King, a lawsuit could mean costly legal battles and a hit to his public image, already bruised among conservative readers. A 2024 Pew Research poll found 35% of Americans view King unfavorably due to his political posts, with some X users vowing to boycott his books: “I’m recycling my It copy,” one wrote. For Kirk’s estate, a suit could amplify their narrative of Kirk as a martyr while rallying TPUSA’s base. Erika Kirk, speaking at a Phoenix vigil on September 13, didn’t mention King directly but alluded to “lies that hurt our family worse than the bullet.” The case, if filed, could also set a precedent for how social media spats translate to courtrooms in an era where every tweet is a potential landmine.

Beyond the legal nitty-gritty, this saga exposes deeper fault lines. Kirk’s death has already fueled calls for everything from gun control (King’s initial push) to social media crackdowns (Trump’s angle). The legal threat against King feels like the latest front in a culture war where words are weapons and apologies are ammunition. On X, posts range from “King’s just telling it like it is” to “He’s a ghoul profiting off a dead man’s name.” A viral thread by @BasedMikeLee, with 1.2 million views, shared the Leviticus clip, arguing Kirk was “obviously critiquing selective scripture use, not calling for violence.” Yet a counter-thread by @ProgressiveUT, with 800,000 views, highlighted Kirk’s broader anti-LGBTQ+ rhetoric, like his opposition to same-sex marriage and claim that “trans ideology causes inflation.”

Both sides have a point, and that’s the problem. Kirk’s rhetoric, while provocative, wasn’t a literal call to violence; his Leviticus comment was part of a broader argument about biblical consistency. But King’s tweet, while exaggerated, tapped into a real critique of Kirk’s influence—his ability to rile up young conservatives with charged language that critics say flirted with extremism. The truth lies in the gray, but in 2025’s polarized climate, gray is a tough sell. As one X user put it: “King saw a chance to dunk and took it. Now he’s learning clicks come with consequences.”

What’s next? If Kirk’s estate sues, it’ll likely be in Utah, where defamation laws favor plaintiffs if malice is proven. Discovery could unearth King’s research process—did he see the full clip, or just a snippet on X? Meanwhile, King’s defenders are rallying. A petition on Change.org, with 10,000 signatures by September 13, calls for “protecting free speech against MAGA lawsuits.” The author himself, holed up in his Maine home, posted a cryptic follow-up on X: “Words matter. So does truth. I’m sorry for the pain, but not the point.” It’s classic King—doubling down while dodging, leaving everyone guessing his next move.

This isn’t King’s first rodeo. In 2024, he faced backlash for comments on a Pennsylvania shooting, blaming the GOP’s gun stance. His response then? A blog post titled “Guns Don’t Kill, People Do—But Guns Make It Easier.” He’s built a career on horror, but his real knack is for stirring the pot, whether through novels or 280-character jabs. Yet this time feels different. Kirk’s death, coupled with the raw grief of his supporters, has raised the stakes. A lawsuit could drag on for years, costing millions and cementing King as either a free-speech martyr or a reckless provocateur.

For now, the nation watches. TPUSA’s “Legacy Marches” continue, with 50,000 expected in D.C. next week. Robinson’s trial looms, with prosecutors eyeing the death penalty. And King, ever the storyteller, finds himself in a plot twist he didn’t write. His tweet was a spark; the legal threat, a blaze. Whether it burns out or consumes everything depends on what a court—and the court of public opinion—decides is true. In a world where every word can be a weapon, this saga is a stark reminder: Even horror kings can’t outrun the consequences of a single sentence.