#exploitation tw

[ihatemakingusernames]

Are you kidding me, you fat bitch? Again??

I just bought those fucking chips yesterday, fatass. There were three fucking bags! When I agreed to be your roommate, I did not agree to paying for meals for an obese heifer like you. You eat fucking everything! I go to work for 5 fucking hours and all the goddamned food in the house is gone!

Oh, please, don't give me that "I'll pay you back" crap. We both know that's bullshit. You don't have a job. You claim you're earning money streaming, but you don't play games anymore fatty, you just sit on your lard coated ass and eat all my goddamned food all day.

I swear to God this is the last fucking straw. If you're going to eat like a worthless sow, you might as well make some fucking money doing it. Oh? You don't know what I mean? You fucking liar. Did you fucking forget we share a wall, dumbass? I hear you. I hear you every fucking night getting off to weight gain hypnosis. Honestly with that tub of lard you call a gut I'm surprised you can even still reach that fat pussy.

Here's what we're going to do. You're going to set up an Only Fans and you're going to be a fat piggy cam girl. Oh no. Oh no no no. You have no say in the matter. I'm the only one with a job and apparently the only one buying food to feed your rapidly expanding ass. If you don't do this, I'll roll your ass to the fucking curb.

Oh don't cry, you useless bitch. You made yourself this way. You're the one stuffing your bloated fucking face every goddamned day. You're going to pay me back, and you're going to start right the fuck now. If you want to eat, it's going online for sick fuckers like you to get off to.

[thesilliestrovingalive]

Updated: May 5, 2025

Reworked Character #17: Invader King

POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNING: Viewer discretion is advised due to references to death, genocide, abduction, and sexual exploitation.

Real name: Hyzalderoum

Aliases: God of the Heavenly Expanse and Conquest, Cocoon of Venus, and Itzamná

Occupation: King of Venus and leader of the Invaders

Special skills: Terraforming, species identification, and knowledge of celestial bodies, planetary systems, warfare, anatomy, and mechanics

Abilities: He shares the exact same abilities as the Invader King from Metal Slug 6, and also possesses additional new ones. He shares the same echolocation capabilities, hearing, smell, and taste as all Invaders. He possesses the same abilities as Morph Changers with the exceptions of their electroreceptive system and bio-electric interfacing. Notably, he can also regurgitate centipede-like orangish-white maggots, similar to those produced by winged Invader Drones and Heaven Globule heralds.

He’s telepathically linked to the Invaders and can engage in telepathic communication with non-Invader individuals who are within his line of sight. With a mere swipe of his hand and unwavering concentration, he can summon meteors and comets to unleash devastating strikes upon his enemies and their territories. By tapping into planetary cores and clenching his fists in the direction of his targets, he unleashes intense radiation to incinerate his enemies or conjure cleansing flames that purify individuals, burning away all resistance to his vision and rule. With his control over gravity, he can pin his enemies in place, unleashing a crushing force that shatters bones, collapses lungs, and pulverises vital organs. With a piercing glare, he can shatter his enemies' morale and will to resist, instilling dehumanising thoughts that leave them feeling insignificant and meaningless.

He possesses the ability to reshape planetary substrata and rocky surfaces into a semi-organic landscape that suit his vision and the needs of the Invaders. He can perceive distortions in spacetime, granting him precognitive awareness of celestial anomalies and enemy attacks. He’s able to manipulate day and night cycles, light, and darkness, and mentally influence changes in the weather. He's remarkably resilient to large-scale explosions and steep falls, but will sustain minor bodily damage that gradually regenerates through the production of a luminous white gel, which efficiently heals injuries. Despite his massive size, he’s able to leap an astonishing 200 ft (6096 cm) into the air. Upon landing, he can generate an earth-shaking impact, creating a massive crater that rivals the monumental size of the Whitecourt crater.

According to him, he once had full reign over the heavens, celestial bodies, the weather, and the spiritual, physical, mental, and emotional forces that influence conquest. He has also boldly proclaimed that his strength surpasses that of the Super Devil, allowing him to destroy four larger planets at once and reduce them to nothing but space dust. He could even devour stars to gain world-changing revelations and create rifts in the space-time continuum to travel to other universes. However, the Avatar of Evil stripped him of those abilities once he crossed over to the current universe he resides in, significantly weakening him to the point where he's now considered a mockery among the deities. It's unknown whether he had any other deific abilities before he was stripped of them.

Hobbies: Spawning Invaders, counting how many stars and clouds he can see, and collecting the heads, bones, and internal organs of leaders from conquered planets

Likes: The comfort of his royal chamber in the Rlyathok, abducting females for reproductive purposes, and feeding frenzies

Dislikes: Rootmars and her people, the emotions and resiliency of humanity, and losing the shell around his face

Gender: Non-binary with he/him preferences

Design: He resembles the Invader King from Metal Slug 6, but with a few notable differences. He stands at 42 ft (1280.16 cm) and his glowing eyes change colours to reflect his current emotional state: purple (neutral/mixed emotions), crimson (fury/excitement), carrot orange (confidence/social), dandelion yellow (happiness/cheerfulness), sky blue (melancholy/calm), and lime green (disgust). His eyes are only black when he's sleeping or deceased. Similar to male Morph Changers, he has a bronze-speckled, sapphire-hued proboscis, adorned with microscopic spikes and resembling a tongue. This unique feature is primarily used to woo females by releasing sweet-smelling pheromones that trigger arousal.

Additionally, he has a segmented tail that is twice his size, resembling a human spinal cord. The tail is glossy black with a blue and purple metallic sheen, and is tipped with a silver-white arrowhead-shaped blade. He has peridot-hued bones coated in a protective layer of red-violet slime. Additionally, he’s a hermaphroditic being, possessing both male and female reproductive organs, similar to those found in Invader Drones. Unlike female Invader Drones, he produces oblong, fleshy eggs that quickly hatch after fertilisation, and the offspring rapidly mature into adults.

When he's in his true form, he's a 64 ft (1950.72 cm) hermaphroditic entity with a similar build to his disguised form, a gnarly, rippling musculature, and a slightly emaciated appearance. His physique is accentuated by a pronounced spine and ribcage, along with a sharp, angular collarbone. His pearlescent white skin glows luminously, adorned with gilded warts. His face, a window of the countless galaxies he has conquered, features lavender-rimmed black eyes that close sideways, like horizontal shutters, flashing with fiery lightning. His visage is partially obscured by writhing, spasming tendrils that extend to his partially rounded midsection. These tendrils shimmer with a kaleidoscope of colours reminiscent of space itself: galactic greens, blues, purples, pinks, cyans, reds, yellows, and oranges, all speckled with tiny black stars.

A large, inverted conical cavity envelops the base of his neck, extending up to just above his diaphragm. The interior of this unusual opening is eerily lined with a row of yellow-stained canine teeth. His neck is made up of his cervical spine, and the large opening reveals a crowd of metallic red arrows and emaciated, pallid heads with stitched eyes and mouths. His abdomen is ripped open, revealing a gaping cavity containing a large, saliva-covered aquamarine orb. Veined with delicate threads of peridot, the orb pulsates with purple Invader blood, eerily resembling a bloodshot eye. A tangled sapphire-hued mass of vine-like intestinal tentacles, adorned with gilded spikes, spills out from his abdominal cavity, obscuring his groin and cascading down to his knees.

He retains the same tail and digit count, and his arms, legs, and back are still encased in a rock-hard exoskeleton. However, in this form, the exoskeleton is solid, devoid of holes that expose his skin. It boasts a rich, burnished bronze sheen, and the joints are reinforced with a thick layer of gleaming flaxen horsehair. From the centre of his upper back, four slits in the exoskeleton plates give way to four iridescent dragonfly wings. These wings feature silver-white ribbing and sapphire-rimmed red-violet eyespots, each centred with a gold dot.

Character summary: He's a responsible, secretive, and intuitive king who prioritises the interests of Venus and his own species, while showing disregard and hostility towards other species. As a leader, his decision-making is guided solely by logic and strategy, prioritising the Invaders' survival and expansion above all else. He exercises totalitarian control, ruling with an iron fist and demanding unwavering loyalty and absolute obedience from his subjects. He’s a Machiavellian megalomaniac consumed by hubris, believing himself to be the pinnacle of existence and the rightful supreme ruler of the current universe he resides in. Despite possessing godly powers, he often restrains himself, indulging in a twisted sense of sportsmanship that allows others to challenge him. However, when provoked by fury or faced with the collapse of his meticulously crafted plans, he unleashes his full, devastating potential.

Despite being extremely self-centred and greedy, he's surprisingly open to forming alliances and friendships with other conquerors or individuals who share his ambitious drive. Moreover, he knows when to retreat from a fight, particularly when faced with situations that prevent him from utilising his abilities to their fullest potential. He has zero tolerance for disobedience and ineptitude among his own kind, dealing with such instances through severe punishment or, after careful consideration, reassigning them to a new purpose. Furthermore, he's utterly disgusted by those who slaughter Invaders and make his conquest of celestial bodies an unnecessarily arduous task.

His vision for the New World involves assimilating all life forms into the Invader race and exploiting the resources of each conquered planet to fuel his military expansion and technological advancements. He intends to ultimately establish totalitarian, monarchical rule over the entire universe to ensure the survival and dominance of his species. He aligns with the Invaders' ideology in every aspect, except for two crucial points: their reverence for him as the ultimate source of life and belief in a cosmic network where divine forces influence their fates and destinies. He displays a callous disregard for life, viewing species beyond the Invaders and those who oppose him as inherently inferior and expendable. His adherence to this ideology leads to emotional numbness towards the well-being of others and a ruthless demeanour when engaging with or confronting non-Invaders.

He enslaves a select few young females from other races, coercing them into reproductive servitude to further the Invader species, while also satisfying his depraved desires through appalling acts of sexual violence. He derives a twisted, carnal gratification from the chaos of feeding frenzies, particularly when targeting female victims. He takes sadistic pleasure in assimilating life forms into the Invader race and conquering planets, dwarf planets, and moons. He adheres to a strict conquest policy, refraining from dominating any planet, dwarf planet, or moon that hasn't reached its full evolutionary potential or possesses life forms with superior technology and military strength. Additionally, he shows little interest in claiming lifeless celestial bodies lacking advanced technology.

He finds it peculiar how humans worship him, particularly the South Pacific P’isqu Runakuna, given his profound disdain for humanity. Despite his contempt, he doesn't bother to intervene, instead basking in the recognition and the relatively positive image it projects. However, he's embarrassed to admit that he's seen by the South Pacific P’isqu Runakuna as their revered deity, Itzamná, and that he has played a role in shaping their culture. To him, humanity's emotions and resilience represent a dual problem to his ambitions. Their emotional nature signifies weakness, while their capacity for resilience poses an obstacle to his plans for subjugating Earth.

He serves as the arch-nemesis of Rootmars, driven by an unwavering commitment to eradicate her and the Martians, whom he perceives as the ultimate obstacle to his quest for universal domination. This vendetta stems from a deep-seated betrayal because he once mentored Rootmars to become a formidable alien ruler, intending for her to join his ranks. He saw her expertise in necromancy, bioengineering, and advanced technology, combined with the Pipovulaj, as invaluable assets that would significantly bolster the Invaders' power. Although his disdain and anger towards Rootmars prevail, a begrudging respect for her protective instincts and leadership abilities lingers. Beneath the surface, he harbours faint romantic feelings for Rootmars, drawn to her intellectual brilliance, yet acknowledges the impossibility of reconciling their irreparably strained relationship.

Backstory: Shrouded in mystery, the origins of Hyzalderoum remain obscure, blurring the lines between fact and fiction. He didn't originate from the universe where he is now, but rather from a completely different one, confirming the existence of multiple universes. Originally, he lived in a smaller universe devoid of humanity, instead populated by bizarre wildlife and various extraterrestrial species. Born from the primordial union of the life-giving mist, the dark waters of the abyss, and the heated core of his birth planet, he had known only two things for certain: his own name, and the secrets of the heavens. Yet, from the very beginning, an insatiable hunger for power burned within him, fueling visions of grand conquests and an unyielding desire to build an empire that would last eternity.

To satiate his conquest-driven ambitions, he forged his own empire, founded on the pillars of terraforming and intergalactic domination. Within the confines of his royal chamber, he birthed a new, superior alien species, dubbed the Hyzuldians—a nod to his own birth name. However, the universe would come to know them by a different title: the Invaders, a moniker that he personally detested. Yet, he would eventually become synonymous with the alias Invader King, a label he initially despised but ultimately came to wear with pride.

The Invaders achieved monumental success, swiftly conquering the entire universe through assimilation of diverse life forms and technologies, exploitation of planetary resources, and terraforming celestial bodies to ensure their eternal dominance. Their vast empire flourished on a planet similar to Venus, which he dubbed Hyzuldi, a world with an eerily organic landscape that was home to numerous thriving Invader colonies. However, this era of peace was short-lived. The Avatar of Evil, driven by boredom and disdain for the homogenised universe, brought destruction upon the cosmos. Their wrath was fueled by Hyzalderoum's selfish conquests, which had eradicated diversity and freedom. Forced to flee, he escaped with the remnants of his technology and species, seeking refuge in a neighbouring universe.

From the confines of the Rlyathok, he spent years scouring the cosmos for new territories to conquer and rebuild his empire. He and the Invaders were on the hunt for a multiplanetary system teeming with life and a planet that resembled Hyzuldi or had similar characteristics, one that they could call home. As he explored, he began to notice a pattern: this universe seemed vast and largely barren, and most celestial bodies were either devoid of life or bearing the scars of long-lost civilizations.

With no other option, Hyzalderoum initiated a campaign to claim lifeless planets, dwarf planets, and moons, terraforming them to accommodate his own needs and the demands of the Invaders. During this campaign, he encountered a few planets, dwarf planets, and moons teeming with life. However, these worlds were home to either pristine wilderness or struggling extraterrestrial civilizations fighting for survival. He expanded his empire across numerous multiplanetary systems within the constellations of Cygnus, Hydrus, Lyra, and Ursa Major.

In the constellation of Lyra, the Invaders were terraforming Kepler-62f when a strange aircraft appeared in orbit around the planet, ultimately landing at a distant site. Viewing this as a potential threat, his subjects swiftly launched a pursuit to track down the intruders. Meanwhile, Hyzalderoum dispatched a lone female Morph Changer to investigate the UFO, assess the situation, and report back. The Morph Changer infiltrated the large UFO, known as the Rugname, and conducted a stealthy reconnaissance. Her findings revealed the Pipomarzu's lack of military strength, limited alien technology, and small population. Additionally, she discovered a project of uncertain purpose, potentially a weapon, being developed by the Pipomarzu. With this intelligence gathered, the Morph Changer withdrew and returned to the underground nest on Kepler-62f to report her findings to Hyzalderoum.

Upon receiving the news, he approached the Rugname and halted his army's planned attack. It was on this day that he met Pepozrumisha and the Pipomarzu, and he assumed the role of her mentor, leveraging her expertise and potential to further his conquest ambitions. With her assistance, he conquered Eridanus, Vulpecula, and Monoceros, terraforming each planet and moon into organic husks for the Invaders to colonise and inhabit. However, their alliance was short-lived because Pepozrumisha soon discovered his manipulation and the Invaders' horrific practice of using Pipomarzu infants as sustenance. Enraged by her defiance, he vowed vengeance and declared the Pipomarzu as the natural prey and sworn enemies of the Invaders.

After years of relentless conquests, the Invaders finally stumbled upon the Solar System, following their triumphant domination of Centaurus. Recognizing its striking similarity to the multiplanetary system of his birth, Hyzalderoum swiftly dispatched his subjects to conduct thorough investigations and report their findings back to him. He soon discovered a planet eerily similar to Hyzuldi, and without hesitation, made it the Invaders' new home. The familiar landscape brought him solace, reminiscent of his birth planet. Ironically, this new haven was none other than Venus. He set about terraforming the planet, transforming its hostile environment by removing the dense, toxic atmosphere, cooling its scorching temperatures, introducing water, and cultivating an organic ecosystem tailored to the Invaders' needs.

During his reign in the Solar System, he conquered Mercury, uncovering remnants of an underground-dwelling extraterrestrial civilization that possessed advanced technology for construction, medical, and military applications. The Invaders expanded their dominion by conquering Ceres, Haumea, Pluto and its natural satellites, and the moons of Jupiter and Saturn. In the process, they seized advanced alien technology and forcibly assimilated diverse, unknown extraterrestrial life forms into their army. They also successfully terraformed Neptune, assimilating its enigmatic, Gymnosomata-like species and their technology.

The Invaders' attempt to terraform Jupiter was thwarted by fierce resistance from the Monoeyes and Martians. This confrontation escalated into another war with the Martians, during which the Invaders managed to seize Peparhuvi. Ultimately, they lost the war due to the crucial support provided by the Monoeyes to the Pipovulaj.

Hyzalderoum had initially planned to conquer Earth sooner, drawn by its vibrant life compared to the barrenness of other planets, dwarf planets, and moons. However, he hesitated, recognizing that the Tuatha Dé Danann possessed superior technology and military might. Earth, still in its formative stages, had yet to reach its full potential, and humanity was only beginning its evolutionary journey. With nothing better to pursue, and having discovered that the other celestial bodies in the Solar System lacked life and valuable technology, Hyzalderoum decided to keep Earth under close surveillance, biding his time until the perfect moment to strike. During his observation, he witnessed phenomena similar to those seen by Pepozrumisha and the Martians, but he remained tight-lipped about these discoveries.

Later in Earth's history, the Invaders discreetly conducted investigations in uncolonised regions, simultaneously carrying out minor terraforming experiments. However, they carefully reversed these modifications to avoid arousing suspicion from the Martians, who they knew were monitoring Earth's development and how humanity treated their home planet closely. Intrigued by Earth's progress, Hyzalderoum decided to pay the planet a personal visit. He set down on an undiscovered South Pacific archipelago in his mothership, the Rlyathok. Accompanied by a select group of subjects, he emerged onto the islands, where they encountered the South Pacific P’isqu Runakuna ("bird people" in Quechua). The sudden arrival of these otherworldly beings left the indigenous people of this island awestruck and paralysed with fear.

The origins of the P’isqu Runakuna worship of Hyzalderoum as Itzamná remain unclear, but their connection to a Rosetta Stone depicting him in his true form sparked this association. This discovery led them to recognize Hyzalderoum as Itzamná, the celestial sovereign who ruled over heaven, day, and night, and to regard the Invaders as his divine messengers and guardians. he was astonished to discover that the Tuatha Dé Danann had secretly revered him, and that a Rosetta Stone depicting himself had somehow found its way into the hands of the P’isqu Runakuna. He suspected the Avatar of Evil might have orchestrated his introduction to the ancient civilization. Initially hesitant to embrace the role, he eventually accepted his newfound identity as Itzamná to these people. As their revered deity, he shared valuable knowledge, teaching agriculture, inventing writing and bookcraft, and imparting ancient wisdom and celestial insights.

[mockingjaysfm]

Is the Capitols exploration of victors’ bodies canon in this group?

Sorry!! That was meant to say exploitation

i  find  the  wording  of  this  ask  a  little  triggering  so  i'm  going  to  put  a  trigger  warning  in  the  tags.  this  is  a  topic  which  is  triggering  to  me,  however  i  and  everyone  else  deals  with  their  triggers  in  different  ways  so  i  want  this  to  be  something  we  can  discuss  in  further  detail  in  the  discord.

so  this  is  obviously  a  very  sensitive  topic  and  the  victor  muses  will  likely  be  dealing  with  a  lot  of  trauma  for  our  muns  to  explore.  i  am  happy  for  our  writers  to  explore  themes  of  a  feeling  of  ownership  of  themselves  being  taken  away,  and  for  things  to  be  sensitively  and  carefully  alluded  to  —  but  this  is  a  triggering  topic  and  it  must  be  handled  with  great  care.  this  can  be  discussed  more  in  detail  as  other  opinions  come  in,  these  are  just  my  initial  thoughts  and  i  am  open  to  hearing  others'  thoughts  on  the  topic. 

[uncanny-tranny]

The leftism/anticapitalism leaving people's bodies the zeptosecond you imply that disabled people who aren't "productive" still matter in society and need to be treated like intrinsic equals who have a place in this world:

[softceleste]

Autumn Best in Woman of the Hour (2023, dir. Anna Kendrick)

Please do not save, repost, or edit these gifs for any reason, use the reblog button instead. Also please do not interact if you’re a celeb rp blog, a true crime blog, or if you write taboo content on your blog, thank you!

[vengefvlx]

It probably wasn't fair for her to off load on Finnick like this. He was in the hospital for a reason. But there were really not that many people here she could really talk too. There were also not a lot of people that would understand. Most people just saw Cadence as the ruthless career that she had been back in her games. District 13 didn't trust her. That was clear from the way that they had locked her up. She said she didn't understand why they didn't trust her. But it all did make sense. Cadie just didn't want to believe it.

As Finnick asked, Cadie realised she hadn't really had to voice her reasons to anyone out loud before. "Clove's death." Her reasonings had been recent, but they didn't change how she felt. "I did all I could to protect her, put up with Snow's exploitation, and she died anyway...." She looks away, blinking back the tears. She felt okay to be vulnerable with Finnick. "How I was.... it nearly cost me my friendship with Thea.... I was such a bitch to her...." She really was. It had felt justified in the moment, but now, when Thea was so far away, it made Cadie sad. "I don't want to live that way anymore...." She didn't want to lose anyone else.

"It has to have meaning...." She murmured, biting on her lip. "There has to be a way of living that is better than what we've both been through." And she was just hoping that going through all this here would be worth it. "I should go...." She murmured, standing abruptly and wiping at her eyes. She felt sad, and she didn't want to burden Finnick anymore than she already was. "I'll see you later..." She murmured, offering him a little smile, before she disappeared out of his room.

Finnick didn’t have the answers that Cadie so desperately sought. Between the morphling and the lies, the only thing Finnick new for sure was that he was angry — so very angry. How could he be anything but? He’d made himself a slave to the rebellion at the whispered promise of his love’s safety only to be made a prop. Was Thirteen really all that different from the Capitol? Was this really be the freedom they’d assured him of? If anything, it seemed like a mistake. Snow was far from a good man, but at least his sadism was predictable. The rebel leaders, however, introduced him to a brand new kind of cruelty.

Finnick would not fault her for rethinking it all; he was been guilty spent his spare moments of lucidity asking the same questions. What had it all been for? Why am I even here? He wished he knew. As if an answer would make it easier. As if finding his purpose in the fight against their beloved President Snow would somehow absolve him of his crimes and untell all the lies. 

The bitter taste of pessimism was overwhelming. “Why did you do it?” They’d all had their reasons, he sure as hell had his despite how foolish it seemed now. “I don’t think it can all have meaning.” He frowned down at his hands, troubled brow furrowed. “Not any more.”

[razzle-zazzle]

Whumptober Day 26: sometimes i get so tired, i don't even know myself

Working to Exhaustion

2330 Words; Ouroboros AU

TW for violence, bloodsport, exploitation, murder, death

AO3 ver

“Next one’s heavy.”

Dion grunted as another box was dropped into his arms. “They’re all heavy.” He muttered, carrying it over to the shelf. But he didn’t have to carry it far, and it wasn’t that heavy. It was kind of big, though, high enough to press against Dion’s mask.

The other guy on unloading duty—Hunter? It was hard to tell, when they were all wearing the same plain white masks—whistled. “I swear, it’s like you never stop.” He commented, as Dion shoved the box into place. “The fuck did they feed you in your old life?”

“...food?” Dion pulled out his boxcutter to cut the box open.

Hunter chuckled. “A kid your age does not just handle heavy boxes like that.” He insisted.

Most people Dion’s age also didn’t have a body count, but that was besides the point. Dion rolled his eyes behind his mask.

There was always something to do in Ouroboros. And if Dion wanted to live, then he needed to be doing something. And he needed to live, no matter what—if Dion didn’t survive, then Mirtala would be the only Aquato in Ouroboros. And he couldn’t—he wouldn’t let her be left alone here. Not if he could help it.

(Mirtala didn’t deserve to be here at all, but there was nothing Dion could do on that front. His powerlessness would drive him crazy if he wasn’t able to at least provide for her.)

“Right, this one’s gotta be at least a little heavy to you.” Hunter grunted, slowly sliding the next box off the stack to pass to Dion.

Dion took the box, wincing slightly. Yeah, this one was kind of heavy—he wouldn’t want to carry that many boxes like it. But Dion knew how to handle heavy things. It was part and parcel of growing up in the circus, after all, from equipment to the other members of his family. Frazie was at least as heavy as this box, probably. Dion hadn’t had the chance to lift her in a while. Maybe she had gotten heavier, gotten the kind of muscle to make girls swoon over her.

(Dion swallowed that thought down. With any luck, he might never see Frazie again—which was for the better, because the day any more of his family ended up in Ouroboros was a day that Dion never wanted to see.)

Dion shoved the box into place on the shelf, pausing for a moment once it was in place. Still, it wasn’t that heavy.

(Queepie might have handled the weight better than Dion—

Dion shoved that thought away immediately. Queepie would be turning four soon; he should be nowhere near Ouroboros, ever. None of his family should, really—none of them but Dion.)

“Heavy, right?” Hunter prompted, already holding the next box.

Dion grunted, pulling his boxcutter out once again. So what if it was? He could handle it. He had to handle it.

Hunter shook his head. “Kids.” He grumbled. “You’re going to run smack into a wall with that kind of attitude.”

Whatever. Dion would be fine.

He had to be—there was no other way. If he slowed down for even a moment, if he let weakness show—

Dion took the next box. He’d survive.

No matter what.

+=+=+=+=+

Mirtala came back that night with a fresh bruise on her arm, her hair still damp from her shower.

“Tala—” Dion started. Stopped, his words catching on the knot of feelings in his throat. He reached out. Stopped.

Mirtala stared at him with tired eyes. She sat down on her bedroll, not saying a thing.

Dion looked away. What was he supposed to say? He didn’t want to encourage this. He never wanted Mirtala anywhere near the arena—she only just turned six. It was Dion’s job, his responsibility to take care of her—and every time she stepped into that arena, he failed.

What was he supposed to say? He didn’t know. He didn’t know.

(An apology might be a good start.

But Dion had always been a coward when it came to apologies.)

Dion’s jaw worked, his shoulders tensing. He should say something—

Too late. Mirtala laid down on her own cot, facing away from him. She huffed, curling up without a word.

I’m sorry. Dion wanted to say it. He needed to say it.

I’m sorry. The words got stuck in his throat.

Dion clenched his hands into fists, his eyes darting away from where Mirtala was lying—

Wait. “Um.” He managed, the sound of his voice surprising even himself. “Do you… do you want your unicorn?” Mirtala usually always grabbed it, when the light in their room started to fade. Dion couldn’t fathom why it was on his cot.

Mirtala rolled over, squinting at Dion. “Her name is Francis III.” She muttered.

“Oh.” Shit, when did Mirtala name it? How long ago? Wow, Dion felt like an idiot. His face was already heating up. “Well, do you want Francis III?” He really needed to apologize.

“No.” Mirtala said. She blinked, and yawned. “But you do.” And with that, she rolled back over, pulling the blanket tight around herself.

Dion swallowed. He grabbed Francis III, running his thumb over the felt strips making up the mane. One of the Wolves had gifted it to Mirtala when they had first gotten here—Dion looked over at his baby sister, who was the nicest person he’d ever known, and he could guess why. Even if she wasn’t his responsibility, he still wanted her to get the best that she could. Mirtala was just easy to spoil like that.

And yet he still couldn’t find the words to talk to her…

Dion looked Francis III in her beady little button eyes. He wanted to put the plush into Mirtala’s arms, adjust the blanket around her like he was tucking her in—anything to prove that he wasn’t an awful brother.

But he just sat there instead, choking on the knot in his throat.

Like a coward.

+=+=+=+=+

Dion looked up at the sound of footsteps, the mop coming to a stop.

He immediately looked back down, moving the mop again the moment he saw who was waling across the tiled floor. Oh, god, was this the end? Was he somehow mopping wrong? Or was it just fun to torment him?

Creed came to a stop not far from Dion, hands folded behind his back.

Dion continued mopping. If Creed wanted him to stop, he’d say so. Probably.

“Boy.” Creed started. Dion gripped the handle of the mop harder. “Look at me.”

Dion lifted his eyes to meet Creed’s dark brown. He paused in his mopping—he needed to rewet the mop in the bucket again, anyway—and waited to see what Creed would do.

Creed’s eyes flicked over Dion. He immediately felt like an ant confronting a boot—certain doom was all that awaited him, now.

“You’ve got a fight tonight.” Creed commented airily. “I’m sure you’ve had plenty of time to… recuperate.”

It had been a while since Dion had had a fight—he hadn’t been scheduled for the last two Death Pits. And he wasn’t allowed back into the regular fights—though Dion really didn’t want to think about that.

“Okay.” Dion said, hating the way it sounded so small in the empty air. “I’ll be ready.”

(He wouldn’t, not really—he never was.

But Dion didn’t survive by waiting until he was ready—he couldn’t. Either he got his head above water, or he drowned—and Dion refused to drown. He’d survive however he needed to.)

“Good boy.” Creed nodded. He turned around and began to walk away—

“Oh,” Creed paused, “And this next fight?”

Dion looked up at him. “Yeah?”

“Win it.” Creed growled. “Your opponent isn’t meant to make it out of that arena alive, you got it?”

Winning was what Dion normally did, though? Dion stared at Creed a moment longer, then nodded slowly. “Yeah.” He confirmed, still unsure why Creed felt the need to tell him this.

“Good.” And with that, Creed left.

Doubts and uncertainties floated around in Dion’s head. He was finally going back in the ring, and the notion terrified and excited him in equal measure. He could finally get ahead just a little bit more—but he’d have to kill someone to do so.

(Well, it wasn’t like Dion’s hands weren’t already covered in blood.

He would survive. He had to.)

Dion sighed.

Back to work.

+=+=+=+=+

Dion waited for the gate to rise. The bars of the gate casted shadows across him, the audience already a loud din outside. It sounded bigger than usual, too, which grated on Dion’s nerves. He watched as another gate opened and his opponent-to-be was forced into the arena, stumbling across the sand. His own gate hadn’t opened, yet—god, Dion hoped it wasn’t broken.

The announcer was saying something, now, trying to get the audience to chant—

“DEATH! BY! LION!”

Dion went rigid. Suddenly, the earlier interaction with Creed made a lot more sense.

But… why him? Surely Creed had more popular fighters, more capable fighters—

The gate began to rise. No more time to doubt. Dion walked out into the arena, out into the lights hanging down, the cage bars casting shadows across him—

The audience ROARED.

“AND THE LION MAKES HIS RETURN!” The announcer cheered. “Let’s see some BLOOD!”

Dion’s opponent stood, staring at him through their orange and blue Ox mask. They snorted.

“This is it?” They asked. “This is the big bad Lion?” Derision colored their voice. Dion’s face flushed behind his mask, his hands squeezing into fists. “You’re just some kid!”

“And you’re dead meat.” Dion snarled. It was him or them, and Dion had no intention of losing.

The Ox broke out into a charge, raising their hand. Metal glinted in the light, and they swung down—

Dion ducked out of the way, rolling to the side and using his hands to spring up onto a hanging cord. The “Jungle Arena” was full of hanging cords and bars, like some twisted trapeze, and Dion was quick to fling himself up out of the Ox’ reach.

You’d think I was the Leopard, with the way I’m climbing around. Dion thought to himself, coming to a stop halfway up the rope. He looked down at the Ox, considering what to do.

Him or them. Dion would survive, no matter what.

He was supposed to make a show of it, too.

The Ox bellowed, grabbing the rope Dion was on. They yanked—

And Dion twisted over to the next rope with practiced ease. He didn’t want to have a favorite arena—he didn’t want to be in the arenas at all, really—but if he had to choose, it was probably this one. So many things to climb, so many ways to fling himself around!

(The arena that Mirtala made her official debut was similar, but Dion didn’t want to think about Mirtala in any arena.)

The Ox couldn’t climb as well as Dion could—if they could at all, seeing as they weren’t even trying—so Dion couldn’t lead them on a merry chase through the ropes and bars. So much for that idea.

Still, how to make this look good?

The audience was chanting, jeering, roaring for blood and violence and death. It was either Dion or the Ox—and Dion intended to win.

“That might work…” Dion muttered, flipping over backwards onto one of the hanging bars. He lifted himself up so that he was doing a handstand on it, allowing his legs to hook onto another bar higher up. He let go of the bar and looked down on the Ox.

“Are you even trying?” He jeered, “Surely you can take out ‘some kid’!” He flipped over to a knotted rope, then flung himself with a forwards flip onto a sideways one. The tightropes back home were way narrower than this. Confidence filled Dion as he paced along it, the Ox yelling below him.

“Get down here!” They shouted. “You little shit!”

Dion laughed. The sound shocked him, escaping his throat before he even recognized what it was.

What was he doing? This was a life-or-death situation! The cage bars cast shadows across the arena. The audience was cheering, jeering, roaring. Dion’s mask pressed against his face.

Fuck this. Fuck putting on a show. Dion wasn’t here to entertain, for all that Creed wanted him to. He was in here to survive, dammit!

With a cry, Dion flung himself down. He rolled as he fell, kicking out as he landed to hit the Ox square in the back. The impact flung him away, and he rolled with the impact, springing up off the floor at the soonest opportunity.

The Ox whirled around to face him, snarling through their mask. Dion darted to the side, cartwheeling up onto one of the ropes. They charged, and instead of climbing up Dion flung himself onto their shoulders when they passed, locking his ankles together in front of their face.

The Ox reached up, trying to pull Dion off—

Dion squeezed his thighs together. The Ox’ hands scrambled against Dion’s legs, prying uselessly at his boots—

Crack!

Dion jumped away as the body fell, flipping over backwards. That probably looked cool, right?

The audience was cheering. The chant from earlier returned, harsh against Dion’s ears.

“DEATH! BY! LION! DEATH! BY! LION!”

Across the arena, the gate rose. Dion stared up at the audience for only a moment longer before darting back to the tunnel.

His hands were shaking. He needed to get his mask off right now. He needed a shower, he needed a drink, he needed to lie down and stare at the wall until he felt human again—

Dion stumbled, leaning against the tunnel wall. He'd just killed someone.

But he had survived. It was him or the Ox, and he had won.

Dion stared at his hands. He had survived. Grim satisfaction knotted in his throat, and he struggled to breathe around it.

Dion had survived.

He was more willing to pay the cost than he wanted.

[vengefvlx]

Cadence didn't really know what to do. Whether talking would help or not. She knew talking did help. But she wasn't about to force anyone to talk. Cadie knew what that felt like. Nobody had exactly forced her to talk, but even that had been too much for her in that moment. She'd learnt more recently that talking had helped. But only when one wanted to talk. And so, she wasn't going to force Cecelia to talk. She supposed the selfish part of her also didn't want to know all the gritty details. She was already having to watch her friends be in pain, it felt somewhat worse to learn exactly what they had gone through in the Capitol.

"Bastard." She grumbled, a frown on her face. She hated that Snow had gone this to them. She hated that Snow had exploited them all for so long. "He knew us all too well." Snow had known Clove had been her weak spot. He'd known exactly how to threaten her little sister to make her compliant. It hadn't been until Clove had gone that Cadie had really realised just exactly what had been going on. it had been why her decision had been so easy when Johanna had talked to her about the rebellion. Nobody else should have to go through the pain they were going through. "He won't be happy for long. He will pay for all the shit, and unnecessary pain he has put us all through."

Cadence just shrugged, shaking her head. "The academy gave me purpose. My dad had died, My mom abandoned Clove and I. The Kentwell's couldn't care less about us. But the academy was there. It was there when nobody else was. It's a fucked up way of growing up, but it was home. I miss it." She missed home so much. And it felt better now that more of her home way here. Home for a long time hadn't always been Two. "I miss Clove." She bit her lip, trying not to cry. It wasn't that she didn't want to cry. She just wanted to comfort Cecelia, not the other way round, not when the other had already gone through so much. "Nobody else deserves to die." She stepped forward, opening her arms, a little sad smile on her face. "I missed our hugs." Cadence wasn't a person that enjoyed physical affection that much, and years of exploitation had made her enjoy it even less. But hugs from Cecelia weren't too bad.

Cecelia didn't need a reminder to know that she had been through hell she relived it every single time she closed her eyes. If not the physical torture then she was reminded of the mental anguish that she had gone through. It helped, being with her family and seeing her kids was a reminder that she was safe and everything that she had been told was a lie. That was what had been the hardest thing for her to get over, the lies that President Snow had said about her son. Had Domi truly believed that she had laid eyes on her son? It was a question that kept her up at night.

"I don't know what I want," she finally said, taking a deep breath. "That's the hardest thing. I always knew what I am or who I am...but he took it. He took it when he made me believe that he had my son. I would do anything for Jax...to make Jax safe. But it had all been lies. He knew how to hurt me. Even now...I'm positive that he knows the damage that he's done. I'm sure President Snow is happy."

"It was never like that in Eight. Outside of our work schedules in the factories and school....we were able to be kids. I'm sorry that you didn't get that, Cadie, "Cecelia said. "And I was sorry to hear about Brutus. I may not have liked him and we may not have gotten along..." she trailed off for a moment, remembering how he called her a traitor that day in the mentors lounge. Was he part of why she had been locked up? "Sorry. He didn't deserve to die." At the offer for a hug, she smiled. "I would love that."

[wilwheaton]

When you watch The Curse, you are watching two children who were abused and exploited daily during production. No adults protected us.

This was originally published on my blog in August, 2022.

I had a wonderful time at Steel City Comicon this weekend. It was my first time at this particular con, so I didn’t know there was such a huge contingent of horror fans, creators, and vendors who attend.

I love horror, and I was pretty psyched to be in the same place as John Carpenter and Tom Savini, across the street from the Dawn of the Dead mall. Pittsburgh feels like one of the places horror was invented, at least to me.

A number of these horror fans came to see me, and asked me to sign posters and other things from a movie my parents forced me to do when I was 13, called The Curse. I had to tell each of these people that I would not sign anything associated with that movie, because I was abused and exploited during production. The time I spent on that film remains the most traumatizing time of my life, and though I am a 50 year-old man, just typing this now makes my hands shake with remembered fear of a 13 year-old boy who nobody protected, and the absolute fury the 50 year-old man feels toward the people who hurt him.

I told this story in Still Just A Geek, and I’ve talked about it in some podcasts I did on the promo tour, but I’ve never put it out in public like this, in its entirety.

I suspect someone at the publisher would prefer I tease this and hope it drives book sales from people who want to read all of it, but I honestly don’t want to have another weekend like this one where everything is awesome, except the few times people who have no idea (and why should they) put that fucking poster in front of me, and all the fear, abandonment, and trauma come flooding back as I tell them that I won’t sign it, and why.

To their credit, each person was as horrified as they should have been, told me they had no idea (if they didn’t read my book why would they), and quickly put the poster away. They were all understanding. I am grateful for that.

But I really don’t need to tell this story over and over again, so here it is, with a child abuse and exploitation content warning, so I can just tell people to Google it.

After Stand by Me, everything changed. The attention from entertainment journalists, casting directors, and especially teen magazines came pouring in. The movie was a generational hit, beloved by critics and audiences alike, and every single one of us could pick anything to do next.

River’s parents and his agent got him Mosquito Coast, with Harrison Ford, as his next movie. I also auditioned for the role, but I knew even then that River was going to book the job. He was perfect, and I’d have to wait a little bit for my opportunity to come along.

I went on a lot of theatrical auditions after Stand by Me. I had tons of meetings with directors and the heads of casting at every major studio. It was all a very big deal, and I felt like we were all looking for something really special and amazing as my follow-up to Stand by Me.

At some point, a couple of producers contacted my agent with an offer to play one of the leads in an adaptation of H. P. Lovecraft’s “The Colour Out of Space.” The script was titled The Farm. (It would, of course, be changed when the film was released).

I read it. I did not like it. It was a shitty horror movie, and I saw that right away. It was the sort of thing you rented on Friday when the new release you wanted was already out of the store.

My mother, already an incredibly manipulative person, used every tool at her disposal to change my mind. My father threatened me, mocked me, told me “It’s your decision” when it clearly wasn’t. It was all so weird; I didn’t understand why they cared so much.

I told my parents I didn’t like it and didn’t want to do it. I clearly recall thinking it was a piece of shit that would hurt my career.

It wasn’t the first thing that had come our way that I wanted to pass on, and every other time, it hadn’t been a very big deal.

Sidebar: I was cast in Twilight Zone: The Movie, in 1983. The film tells four stories, and I was cast as the kid who can wish people into cartoonland. It was a GREAT role, in a movie I still love. (Note that Twilight Zone had four directors. One of them got three people killed. The segment I was cast in was not that one. I mention this because too many people zero in on this to deflect from what this whole thing is actually about.)

But I was CONVINCED by my parochial school teacher that if I worked on The Twilight Zone, which she had determined was satanic, I would go to hell. (This woman and her bullshit played a big role in my conversion to atheism at a young age, but when she told me that, I was all-in on the supernatural story they taught us in religion class.) I was so scared, more scared than I’d ever been to that point in my life, I cried and wailed and begged my parents to not make me do the movie. And I never told them why, because I was afraid my dad would laugh at me for being weak and afraid. My agent tried to talk me into it, and I wouldn’t budge. It’s the only thing I deeply and truly regret passing on, and I really hate I made that choice for such a stupid reason.

Okay. Back to The Curse.

This time, when I told them how much I hated it, they wouldn’t listen to me. My mother, already an incredibly manipulative person, used every tool at her disposal to change my mind. My father threatened me, mocked me, told me “It’s your decision” when it clearly wasn’t. It was all so weird; I didn’t understand why they cared so much.

That is, until they made me take a meeting with the producers of the movie, in their giant conference room on the top floor of a tall building in Hollywood. All I remember about this place was that it was huge; the table was way too big for the five of us who spread around it, and there were floor-to-ceiling windows on three of the walls, but the room was still dark. There was a weird optical illusion in the center of the table, this thing they sold in the Sharper Image catalog, made from two reflective dishes with a hole in the top of one. You placed an object in the bottom of the bottom dish, and it made it look like that object was floating above the whole thing. They had a plastic spider in it. What a strange detail for me to remember, but it’s as clear in my memory as if I were sitting in that room right now.

One man, who I presumed was the executive producer, was European or Middle Eastern (I didn’t know the difference then, he was just Not Like People I Knew), and I was instantly afraid of him. He was intimidating, and seemed like a person who got what he wanted.

So we sat there, my father who didn’t give a shit about me, my mother who was cosplaying as someone with experience, and me, thirteen years old, awkward as fuck, and scared to death.

I don’t remember what they said to me in their pitch or anything other than how uncomfortable and anxious I was to even be in that room. I tried so hard to be grown up and mature, but I — and my parents — was way out of my depth. I’d done one big movie and that was it. We didn’t have my agent with us, who had lots of experience and would have known what questions to ask.

No, in place of my experienced agent, my mother had decided she was going to be my manager, and she tackled the responsibility with an enthusiasm that was only matched by her absolute incompetence and inability to go toe-to-toe with producers the way my agent did. She was outwitted, out-thought, and outmaneuvered at every turn.

“You don’t have a choice,” my father commanded. “You are doing this movie.”

So we sat there, my father who didn’t give a shit about me, my mother who was cosplaying as someone with experience, and me, thirteen years old, awkward as fuck, and scared to death.

At some point, this man, who is represented in my memory by big Jim Jones sunglasses under dark hair above an open collar, said, “We are offering you a hundred thousand dollars and round-trip travel for your whole family. We will cast your sister, Amy, to play your sister in the movie.”

It all made sense, now. I was only thirteen, but I knew my parents were pushing me so hard because this company was offering me — them, really — more money than I’d ever imagined I’d earn in my life, much less a single job.

I knew that the right thing to do, the smart thing to do, was to say no. There would be other opportunities, and it was stupid to cash myself out of feature films for what I thought was, in the grand scheme of things, not very much money.

It’s incredible to me that I knew all of this. It’s incredible to me that I could see all these things, plainly and clearly, and my parents couldn’t (or, more likely, chose not to).

So after this man made his offer, all the adults in the room ganged up on me, selling me HARD on this movie.

My mother said, “Don’t you want your sister to have the same opportunities you’ve had? Wouldn’t it be fun and exciting to go to Rome? Think of all the history!”

The experience was awful. It was the worst experience I have ever had on a set in my life, by every single metric. The movie is awful, and it is the embarrassment I knew it would be.

I don’t think about this very often, because it’s super upsetting to me. Right now, I’m so angry at my parents for subjecting me and my sister to this entire experience. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

In that moment, I felt bullied and trapped. All these adults were talking to me at the same time, and I just wanted it to stop. I just wanted to go home and get out of this room. I just wanted to go be a kid, so I did what I’d learned to do to survive: I gave in and did what my parents wanted.

The experience was awful. It was the worst experience I have ever had on a set in my life, by every single metric. The movie is awful, and it is the embarrassment I knew it would be.

But here’s the thing: when you watch The Curse, you are watching two children, me and my sister, who were abused on a daily basis. The production did not follow a single labor law. They worked us for twelve hours a day, on multiple film units (while I work on First unit, second unit sets up and waits for me. When I should get a break to rest, they send me to Second unit, then to Third unit, then back to First unit. I was 13.) without any breaks, five days a week. I was exhausted the entire time. I was inappropriately touched by two different adults during production. I knew it was wrong, but I was so scared and ashamed, and I felt so unsupported, I didn’t tell anyone. I knew my dad wouldn’t believe me, and my mother would blame me. Anything to keep the production happy, that’s what she did. That was more important to her than the health and safety of her children. The director was coked out of his mind most of the time, incompetent, and so busy fucking or trying to fuck one of the women in the cast, he was worse than useless. He was a fading actor who was cosplaying as a director, as in over his head as my mother. My sister and I were never safe. Instead of harmless atmospheric SFX smoke, they set hay on fire in barrels and blew actual smoke onto the set. They took buckets of talc, broken wood, bits of wallpaper and plaster, and threw it into my face during a scene inside the collapsing house. My sister is in a scene where she goes to get eggs from some chickens, and they attack her. So they hired Lucio Fulci, the Italian horror master, to direct her sequence. His idea, which everyone was totally on board with, was to throw chickens at my sister. Live chickens, live roosters, live birds. Just throw them at a nine-year-old girl. Oh, and then tie them to her arms and legs so they’ll peck her. All of this happened under my mother’s observation, and with her full participation.

Everything I need to know about who my parents are is wrapped up in that experience: the total lack of concern for my safety and happiness, treating me like an asset instead of a son, lying to me, manipulating me, and using me to get things they wanted, and then gaslighting me about it.

If just ONE of the things I can remember happened to someone I loved, I would have grabbed my kids, gone to the airport, and flown home. Fuck those abusive assholes in the production. Let the lawyers sort it all out. Nobody hurts my children and gets away with it.

My mom says she “had some talks” with the producers. She claims that, once, she wouldn’t let us leave the hotel. (God, what a fucking dump that place was. It was just slightly better than a hostel.) I have no memory of that, but honestly the entire experience was so traumatic, I’ve blocked most of it out.

The movie was the commercial and critical failure I knew it would be. My parents spent the money. I don’t know what they spent it on. I got to keep fifteen cents of every dollar, so . . . yay?

My sister and I hardly ever talk about this. I suspect it was as upsetting and traumatic for her as it was for me. I told her I was writing about it, and asked her if she remembered anything. She told me she’d been lied to her whole life about this movie. Our mother let her believe she had been cast on the strength of her audition. “I was excited to work with you,” she said. She reminded me about some stuff I’d blocked out, including a scene where my character’s older brother (played by an actor named Malcolm Danare, who was kind and gentle, and made both of us feel safer when he was around) shoves my character into a pile of cow shit. When it came time to shoot the scene, the mud they’d put together to be the cow shit looked an awful lot like cow shit. When Malcolm pushed me into it, we all found out it was real cow shit. I was FURIOUS. The director had lied to me and had allowed me to have my entire body shoved into an actual pile of actual cow shit. I don’t remember what I said, but I remember he treated me the exact same way my father did whenever I got upset: he laughed at me, told me I was being too sensitive, reminded me that he was the director and he wanted to get a “real” performance out of me, and concluded, “If it bothers you so much, we’ll get you a hepatitis shot,” before he walked away.

My sister also recalled that, after she survived the scene with the chickens, it was the producers’ idea to give her one as a pet.

Okay, let’s unpack that for a quick second: you’ve been traumatized by these birds, so we’re going to give you one as a pet. That you’ll somehow keep in your hotel, and then will somehow get back to America. It will shock you to learn that neither of those things happened.

She remembered, as I do, the huge fight I had with my parents in our kitchen, where I told them I hated the script and I hated the movie. I didn’t want to do it, and I hated that they were making me do it.

“You don’t have a choice,” my father commanded. “You are doing this movie.”

“This is the only film you are being offered,” my mother lied to me. She made me feel like, if I didn’t do this movie, I would never do another movie again in my life. I had to do this movie. As my father bellowed, I had no choice.

Both of my parents denied this argument ever happened. Can I tell you how reassuring it is to know that my sister, who was also there, remembers it the same way I do?

The makeup department decided they would literally cut my little sister’s face with a scalpel, in three places, and put bandages over them.

But one thing she told me, the thing I did not know, the thing that makes me so angry I want to break things, actually managed to make the entire experience even worse than I remembered it.

There’s a scene after her chicken incident where I check up on her in her bedroom. She’s got cuts and bruises, and I guess we talk about it. I don’t remember and I can’t watch the movie because I’m terrified it will give me a PTSD flashback (I’ve had one of those and I recommend avoiding it). Here’s the thing about that scene: she has some cuts on her face, and those cuts are real. They are not makeup.

I’m going to repeat that. My nine-year-old little sister had actual cuts on her face that were placed there by an adult, on purpose.

The makeup department decided they would literally cut my little sister’s face with a scalpel, in three places, and put bandages over them. My sister told me our mother wasn’t in the makeup room when this happened — honestly, it seemed like our mother was strangely and conveniently absent when most of the really terrible things happened to us on the set — and when my sister told her what they’d done, she “lost her shit” at the production. She was pissed, I guess, which is appropriate and surprising. I wonder what would have to have happened for her to put us on a plane and get us home to safety? I mean, her son being abused daily didn’t do it, and her daughter being CUT IN THE FACE ON PURPOSE didn’t do it.

I just . . . I can’t. I can’t understand or comprehend allowing your own children to be physically and emotionally abused. They were literally selling my sister and me to these people, like we were some kind of commodity.

This was a tough conversation. My sister’s experience with our parents is very different from mine. My sister and I love each other. We’re close. I know it’s hard for her to hear that her brother, who she loves, was so abused by her parents, who she also loves. I was really grateful she made the time to talk to me about it, and grateful the experience wasn’t as horrible for her as it was for me.

As we were finishing our call, Amy also remembered one man, a young Italian named Luka, who was our driver for the movie. I haven’t thought about him in thirty years, but I can see his face now. He was kind, he was friendly, he taught us how to kick a soccer ball, and in the middle of an abusive, torturous experience, he stood out as a kind and gentle man. I mention him because she remembered him, which made me remember him, and goddammit I want at least one small part of this thing to not be awful.

The Curse remains one of the most consequential times the adults in my life failed to protect me. I’m 50. I still have nightmares.

Ultimately, as I predicted and feared, this piece of shit movie cashed me out of respectable films forever. I got offers for movies, but they were always mindless comedies or exploitative horror films. They were never the serious dramas I wanted to work in after Stand by Me. The industry looked at me and River, wondering if one or both of us would become a breakout star. They quickly saw that River was doing real acting work, and I was in this piece of shit. For River, Stand by Me was a beginning. For me, it would turn out to be pretty much everything, at least as far as film goes.

There are thousands of reasons film careers do and don’t take off. Maybe mine wouldn’t have taken off anyway. Clearly, it’s not where my life ended up, and I’m super okay with that now. But when all of this happened, it hurt and haunted me.

The Curse remains one of the most consequential times the adults in my life failed to protect me. I’m 50. I still have nightmares. Everything I need to know about who my parents are is wrapped up in that experience: the total lack of concern for my safety and happiness, treating me like an asset instead of a son, lying to me, manipulating me, and using me to get things they wanted, and then gaslighting me about it.

This annotation is the last thing I wrote before I turned this manuscript in, because opening these wounds is hard and painful. I put it off as long as I could, and I feel like I’m still holding back, because just this small glimpse of the experience has taken me a week to write. I can’t imagine trying to go back and unpack the whole thing. (Note that is not in the book: I’ve made an EMDR appointment to work on this because the nightmares have come back after the weekend).

Fuck The Curse, and fuck every single person who exploited and hurt two beautiful children to make it. You all participated in child abuse, and you all knew better. Shame on all of you. I hope this follows you to the end of your life. I hope that living with what you did to innocent children has been as hard for you as it has been for me, because you deserve no less.

[casuallyanidiot]

what do you think of yandere priest but in more of a cult vibe?

Like a mother and young adult reader came to the neighborhood and the mother joined the "church" and became crazy religious

Okay, here me out, yandere priest to a cult that's not really a cult, but some multi level marketing scheme.

Tw. for age gap, financial abuse, and religious themes

He's less motivated by faith than he is his own greed. He loves living in luxury scoffs at the notion that he should be more humble. He worms his way into a quaint, suburban neighborhood slowly but surely over several years and drips in bits and pieces of information about a company that's just guaranteed to make you money.

You get to work from home! Be your own boss! And the products themselves work miracles!

Yandere Priest who is calm, charismatic, suave, and oh so charming. Most of the flock he tends to don't even realize he's scamming them out of their life's savings. They're all just far too dumb to even think of him in a negative light.

You and your mom moved to the neighborhood after finally managing to improve your financial situation. You were enrolled in a local community college and had several low paying jobs along with your mother, and the two of you lived frugally until you could afford enough to live in a nicer part of town than the one you had been stuck in your entire life.

The two of you are welcomed warmly by the church, the community, and yandere priest. Your mom is happy to have found such a nice place to live, and she's instantly enticed by the promises of making money through joining the congregation. She gets a bit of success through it at first, and soon she's hooked.

You however, don't buy it one bit.

Yandere priest is intrigued by you. While your mother begins to zealously preach the word of the bible and the word of his money, you seem to have an inherent distrust for him. It makes sense, he thinks. He essentially just views your little family as another wallet in his collection. Still, as much as he understands you, a poor little lamb who wasn't joined his flock yet, he can't let you roam free lest you lead others astray.

It's then he really starts to lay the charm on thick. You remain unconvinced despite the fact that he begins to visit your home often (It's an honor by the way. Your mother knows her place. She graciously welcomes him in and shouts at you when you don't show him respect.), and he catches you scowling at him when you think no one is looking.

You're just so frustrating to him. At first you were like a little challenge to beat, something that he had to work to get for once, but you're proving to be a true pain in the neck. You cats doubt on his name to anyone who'll listen, argue with your mom and try to get her to quit his church often, and he's even caught you trying to snoop around in some financial documents of others around the neighborhood. He begins to think of you as less of a lamb and more of a vixen.

It doesn't help that you're pretty and cute. You're a young faced, rebellious spit fire who calls him out like no one has before, and even though he grits his teeth every time you glare at him, he can't help but love it.

For the first time in a life, he actually has someone he would even deign to call an equal.

Just like with all the money he's sucked out of these poor people, he didn't care that you're practically half his age, or that he could ruin your life with a few words. No, all he wanted was for you to finally just give up, to just set aside your pride and let him win.

All the while, your mother has been changing. She was once a sweet if not ditzy woman who would do anything to protect her child, though now she was wrapped up in the same greed that had been running through this neighborhood since he sunk his teeth in it. Your finances had been depleted despite the fact that she insisted that the church's company was legitimate and making good money. While the two of you had been close, she would yell at you for anything that went out of line from what the church and Yandere priest preached.

You were losing your mother, your community, your hope. If this habit of her spending all of your money on the church continued, soon you were worried that you wouldn't be able to pay for the house or your tuition. You were desperate to get your life back in order, and who but him would be there with a single, honeyed option left for you?

Yandere priest was certain that if he bled you dry just a little longer, you'd eventually accept his oh so gracious offer and finally fall into his hands.

[ae-azile]

Fadel, Bison, & Keen: The Implication of Victimhood and Human Trafficking 

TW/CW Note: This essay argues the case of Fadel, Bison, and Keen being the victims of human trafficking. It also compiles and dissects evidence of that claim with sources, analyses of various scenes, and current Thai and International laws. It may be upsetting for some readers.

This meta/essay was written because I can't just watch a fun, Shakespeare derived show about gay hitmen and not get weird about it. 

…And also because I have been working in the mental health/behavioral field for several years, almost solely with minors - some of whom were abused and exploited. 

The more I think about Fadel's and Bison's circumstances - the canon evidence, the implied manipulation and abuse throughout the show, and everything that WASN’T shown or said to give Lilly any kind of legal legitimacy, the more I feel like they aren't as culpable for their crimes as they think they are. 

But first, what constitutes as human trafficking on a Thai and international standard? 

Under Thai law, human trafficking is comprehensively defined in the Anti-Trafficking in Persons Act B.E. 2551 (2008). The Act outlines specific actions, means, and purposes that constitute human trafficking offenses.​

Definition(s) of Human Trafficking

According to Section 6 of the Act:​

"Whoever, for the purpose of exploitation, does any of the following acts: procuring, buying, selling, vending, bringing from or sending to, detaining or confining, harboring, or receiving a person, by means of threat or use of force, abduction, fraud, deception, abuse of power, or of the giving money or benefits to achieve the consent of a person having control over another person, shall be guilty of trafficking in persons."​

While this definition can be interpreted differently by various parties, the The Act further clarifies that exploitation includes, but is not limited to:

Sexual exploitation

Production or distribution of pornography

Forced labor or services

Slavery or practices similar to slavery

Involuntary servitude

Forced begging

Removal of organs for commercial purposes

Other similar forms of exploitation

It is worth noting that these forms of exploitation are ALWAYS considered trafficking when a child is involved, and Fadel, Bison, and Keen were obtained as minors under duress and violent circumstances. 

Below are screenshots from The Anti-Trafficking in Persons Act, which pertains to Thailand specifically. Highlighted statements support the claims being made in this essay according to their country’s laws on the matter. 

Internationally, human trafficking is defined by The United Nations as: 

"The recruitment, transport, transfer, harbouring, or receipt of persons, by means of the threat or use of force or other forms of coercion, of abduction, of fraud, of deception, of the abuse of power or of a position of vulnerability or of the giving or receiving of payments or benefits to achieve the consent of a person having control over another person, for the purpose of exploitation.”

Considering Fadel, Bison, and Keen were all orphaned when their parents were murdered by Lilly’s people, only to be put in the (dubious) custody of the woman who left them vulnerable to make them dependent on her, they more than fit this definition. 

1. Acquisition through Deception and Questionable Guardianship

Following the murders of their parents, Fadel, Bison, and Keen were placed in the custody of Lilly—a woman they had no known relationship with prior.

All three came from wealthy families, yet no efforts appear to have been made to place them with relatives or protect their inheritance. They ended up with their parents' killer. Lilly tricking all three of their families into granting custody in the event of their deaths seems unlikely, but if she managed, this is still a form of coercion, considering what transpired.

Legal Framework: Thai Civil and Commercial Code Sections 1585–1588 require formal guardianship proceedings, prioritizing relatives and requiring oversight.

The UN Palermo Protocol and Thailand’s Anti-Trafficking in Persons Act B.E. 2551 (2008) would both consider guardianship obtained through fraud, deception, or abuse of power as qualifying mechanisms for trafficking. Considering Lilly had Fadel’s, Bison’s, and Keen’s parents murdered, then lied about who was responsible for their trauma and rehoming, she definitely committed: 

Fraud, by misrepresenting herself - both to the boys and possibly to the courts for either legal guardianship, financial gain to obtain the families’ assets, or both. 

Deception, by making her adopted sons trust her initially, only to manipulate them into thinking they were in danger and needed to be trained as hitmen.

Abuse of power, by using her position to manipulate them into a state of vulnerability so they would be reliant on her and loyal when it came to her training and orders once she gained their trust.

Conclusion: The guardianship and its legality may have never been formally investigated, and it may not have been obtained legally. If it was legally documented, Lilly likely obtained it through bribes and systematic manipulation. Considering all three boys seem to have come from wealthy families who would have likely assigned a guardian that their sons knew prior to being orphaned (a family member, a family friend), the circumstances are highly irregular. It also strongly suggests deceptive acquisition, qualifying under the legal definitions of trafficking.

2. Psychological Manipulation and Coercive Conditioning

Lilly began by treating the boys like sons, offering safety and structure before introducing training for violence and strategic killing. In the brief flashback we get, we see three boys standing in a line, foreshadowing their eventual soldier-like expectations. But when she sees one of their shoes untied, she bends down and ties it for them before telling all three they can call her “Mother”. This establishes a gentle, maternal bond that offers comfort, care, and parental authority. But this memory is sharply contrasted by the one following it when she has them practice their aim after the trust and need to impress her has been established. By the time she is sending Fadel and Bison on jobs she frames as necessary and noble, they are fully loyal to her and trust her knowledge, judgment, and orders. 

She framed their actions as necessary protection or retribution for their parents' deaths, creating a false moral narrative to justify lethal missions. This manipulation led to emotional dependence, blurred lack of autonomy, and the belief that loyalty to her was synonymous with survival and justice.

Legal Framework: Thai and international trafficking laws recognize emotional coercion, abuse of trust, and manipulation of vulnerability as means of trafficking.

Conclusion: The grooming and emotional manipulation used to coerce minors into violence constitutes a clear form of non-physical coercion and entrapment. Despite Fadel and Bison being adults by the time they are arrested for their crimes, they were groomed, conditioned, manipulated, isolated from familial connections, and ultimately brainwashed as children. 

3. Coerced Criminal Activity through False Narratives

Fadel and Bison were often told their assassination targets were involved with their families’ deaths or were dangerous criminals. While a few of these claims may have been true, other claims may have been used to manufacture moral permission to kill, embedding loyalty through deceit. They carried out violent missions under the impression that they were defending themselves or serving justice. Again, they were conditioned to prepare for this as minors, and possibly started missions prior to reaching adulthood. The timeline on their first kills was never substantiated, but their conditioning, grooming, isolation from family, and brainwashing make them qualify as victims being coerced into criminal activity through false narratives. 

Legal Framework: The Palermo Protocol and Thailand’s anti-trafficking statute both include criminal exploitation through manipulation or deception.

Conclusion: Their participation in criminal acts under coerced moral justification meets the standard for trafficking-based criminal exploitation.

4. Sexual Exploitation via Implicit Coercion and Mission Pressure

This one is more of an interpretation, but I feel like it is worth exploring. 

Going by what we see, it was not uncommon for Fadel and Bison to perform seduction-based roles as part of their missions—exotic dancing, acting as escorts, or using sexual appeal to disarm targets.

In the first scene of the show, Bison is posing as an escort and spending time with an older man. He starts singing karaoke with him, but is in the robe in the next scene and massaging the target, who is sitting in a tub, which is where the target is ultimately killed. Bison doesn't flinch. He almost looks proud of himself when the man is clearly falling for his advances. This notes satisfaction with his methods leading towards a successful, criminal mission that results in murder.

Fadel’s reaction towards such methods is a huge contrast. 

In episode 3, Fadel and Bison are expected to seduce a person of interest through exotic dancing. She is then drugged and taken back to her room so they can go through her things and obtain information. Fadel initially pushes Bison to honey trap. He remains distant, cordial, and uses the excuse that Bison is better at it (which might imply Bison having less issues with it overall).

But this time, Bison refuses. It's worth noting this conversation happens right after he talks to Fadel about possibly dating Kant. He may have had little to no issue with it before, but does now that he is developing real feelings for someone. Bison pushes Fadel to be the one to seduce the woman. Unlike Fadel's stiff, professional request, Bison is humorous and playful. This continues despite Fadel showing discomfort and reluctance at the thought of dancing for her and the crowd. He ultimately goes through with it. Bison almost seems smug over not being the woman’s type and Fadel having to be the one to dance (although reacts with subtle and mild offense when the woman tells him that to his face). He also doesn't seem to empathize with his brother’s discomfort.

While it is possible that these methods were not suggested by Lilly and are only ones they resorted to as adults based on their own decision-making skills (as compromised as they were by their conditioning in other developmental areas), their reactions to this situation scream otherwise. 

Fadel is reluctant and uncomfortable that he has to be the one to do it. His consent is dubious at best. He seems to depend more on Bison to carry out this type of skill due to contrasting takes on the matter.

Bison, on the other hand, seems to normalize honey trapping. He only takes issue with it when he is developing a romantic relationship. Even then, he teases and jokes about Fadel being the better man for this particular job, missing the quiet reluctance on Fadel's part. This hints towards desensitization, which can be a common coping response for abuse and complex trauma victims.

While Lilly’s conditioning on this front can only be speculated, we have a couple of pieces of circumstantial evidence that support the idea she either subtly planted seeds to put this method in her adopted sons’ toolkit or directed them to do it more overtly in the past - leading them to choose that method “freely” now. 

Lilly’s recruitment of Kant into escort work—specifically to bring attractive friends to act as 'party favors'—demonstrates a clear pattern of sexually exploitative behaviors. While Kant WANTED to be invited to her circle to expose her for her crimes, she didn't know this. She viewed him as a young golf caddy, someone she could exploit with the promise of payment. 

Lilly was a hitwoman herself. She may have resorted to honey trapping methods back when she was working beneath someone else. Cycled and generational abuse is unfortunately common, especially when the trusted figure refuses to admit they were once a victim or seek out therapeutic services/support. 

So…

Legal Framework: Thai and international law define sexual exploitation to include pressured or coerced participation in sexualized roles, especially when the individual is underage or emotionally dependent. Regardless of when these behaviors started, they were conditioned, groomed, and isolated at a young age and made emotionally/psychologically dependent in adulthood. The crimes they were committing on Lilly's behalf fueled sexualizing themselves for information.

Conclusion: These sexually charged missions—especially when reinforced by peer pressure, manipulation, or emotional conditioning—fall within the scope of indirect sexual exploitation under trafficking statutes. 

5. Systematic Emotional Abuse and Dependency Control

A strict performance-based hierarchy seems to have governed Lilly’s household. Compliance resulted in praise; deviation led to emotional withdrawal, ridicule, or humiliation.

Keen, unable to serve in the field, was repeatedly shamed and belittled, creating an obsessive need to prove his worth. He was often verbally and emotionally abused by Lilly. Fadel’s and Bison’s insults towards him often hint at ridicule or - alternatively - resentment, since Keen has never had to kill anyone. Creating rifts within the formed sibling unit also creates a breeding ground for competition and a need to please the trusted figure, especially in the more isolated party. Keen’s need to impress Lilly later on by trying to carry out the hits on Fadel and Style (and Kant and Bison, if they had been tracked down) was almost inevitable. 

Meanwhile, Fadel and Bison were rewarded for excelling, reinforcing a world where survival and approval were earned only through loyalty and effectiveness. 

Legal Framework: Emotional abuse and psychological dependence are explicitly acknowledged in trafficking legislation as valid tools of coercion.

Conclusion: This emotionally volatile environment fostered long-term dependency and control which meets the criteria for non-physical coercive trafficking.

6. Threat of Retaliation for Attempts to Exit

When Fadel and Bison attempted to retire peacefully, Lilly appeared to give her blessing—then secretly instructed Keen to murder them and their romantic partners.

Keen failed, and was verbally abused by Lilly, solidifying the lesson that disloyalty equals death.

Years earlier, Fadel had tried to leave her control by planning to move in with his first boyfriend. Shortly after, the boyfriend vanished.

Fadel believed he had been abandoned until Keen later confessed that Lilly had put a hit on the man. When Fadel asks why he never told him earlier, Keen says she would have killed him too.

Legal Framework: Retaliation or threats tied to exit attempts are core indicators of trafficking under both Thai and international law.

Conclusion: The lethal consequences for asserting independence—whether through romantic relationships or attempted retirement—showcase total control through fear, reinforcing their status as trafficking victims.

7. Financial Exploitation and Asset Suppression

This point is also more theorized, but is still worth noting. 

Despite their likely inheritance due to their families’ wealth, Fadel and Bison seem to only have limited access to the estates they were legally owed.

It is implied that individuals (likely tied to Lilly) pressured their parents to relinquish property or wealth, and that refusal to comply preceded their murders.

Once the boys were in Lilly’s custody, it is unclear if there is evidence of ethical estate management or legal oversight.

Considering Lilly’s obsession with status - displayed by her friend group, hangout spots, and greed, it would not be surprising if she took control of the majority of their estates. She may have given them access to just enough for them not to investigate the extent of what they lost out on. Bison mentions the island home was the only property that wasn't taken. Any uncovered inheritance in the form of cash, stocks, bonds, property, valuables, and other assets were likely fraudulently controlled and only partially handed over to keep Fadel, Bison, and Keen from asking questions. Otherwise, it isn't out of the realm of possibility that Lilly arranged to take ownership or be the beneficiary through fraud, coercion, deception, or bribery, which is likely how she also gained custody of three biologically unrelated minors. 

In fact, Lilly likely wouldn't have taken in three minors she personally traumatized unless there was a great payout earlier on. While being able to condition and brainwash them helped her financially in the long run, it would have been a huge gamble legally and a risky investment if she had not gotten the majority of their inheritance. So she likely let them keep some of what was rightfully theirs and paid them good salaries, but robbed them of much more than what she gave. 

Legal Framework: Financial control is recognized under Thai law and international trafficking doctrine as a coercive tactic when used to restrict independence or manipulate behavior.

Conclusion: Their restricted access to their potential inheritance—combined with the violent deaths of their parents following coercion—strongly supports a pattern of financial exploitation consistent with trafficking operations.

Final Summary of Evidence Compilation 

Fadel and Bison experienced:

Fraudulent custody acquisition and loss of familial protection

Psychological manipulation and mission-based coercion

Forced criminal activity disguised as moral duty

Possible sexual exploitation through conditioned loyalty and mission expectations

Emotional abuse and performance-based affection to ensure compliance

Lethal retaliation for attempted independence

Possible economic exploitation, likely linked to their parents’ murders

These experiences satisfy all legal definitions of human trafficking under:

Thailand’s Anti-Trafficking in Persons Act B.E. 2551 (2008)

The UN Palermo Protocol, ratified by Thailand in 2003

By this criteria, they were victims—trafficked, conditioned, and controlled through emotional, economic, and psychological means.

Legal and Moral Culpability

Legally and morally, Fadel, Bison, and Keen are victims of human trafficking going by the current laws and standards when their circumstances are examined. 

But are they culpable for the crimes they committed under Lilly’s control and manipulation? 

Yes and no. Morally, they are culpable in the sense that they committed murder and had awareness of what they were doing. They may have thought they were killing bad people, but they also seem to have known that killing was wrong. They knew to lay low and to not get caught. Their situation and upbringing led to other disturbing behaviors (kidnapping their significant others upon being betrayed). In some ways, yes. They have a history of being morally in the wrong and likely know as much, especially after Lilly’s lies and crimes are revealed. 

However, with all of the circumstances listed above that support the idea they were victims of human trafficking, they would have had a strong case that might have excused them from legal culpability if presented extensively and correctly by knowledgeable legal representation. 

“Each Party shall, subject to its domestic laws, rules, regulations and policies, and in appropriate cases, consider not holding victims of trafficking in persons criminally or administratively liable, for unlawful acts committed by them, if such acts are directly related to the acts of trafficking.”

Source: ASEAN ACTIP, Article 14(7): https://www.asean.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/ACTIP.pdf

“Any person who is a victim of trafficking in persons shall receive protection and appropriate care from the Government, including physical, psychological, and social rehabilitation, legal assistance, and compensation for damages.”

Source: Thailand Anti-Trafficking Act B.E. 2551 (2008), Section 41: https://asean.org/wp-content/uploads/2016/08/Thailand197.pdf

“Trafficked persons should not be subject to arrest, charge, detention, prosecution, or be penalized or otherwise punished for illegal conduct that they committed as a direct consequence of being trafficked.”

Source: UNODC Issue Paper on Non-Punishment Principle: https://www.unodc.org/documents/human-trafficking/ICAT/19-10800_ICAT_Issue_Brief_8_Ebook.pdf

“The non-punishment principle is integral to fulfilling human rights obligations to victims, and obligations to prevent and suppress trafficking in persons and other serious crimes.”

Source: ASEAN-ACT Non-Punishment Policy Brief: https://www.aseanact.org/story/asean-nonpunishment/

Five years for murder charges? Normally a great deal. It is understandable why Fadel and Bison jumped on it, especially when they do not identify as trafficking victims and feel responsible for their prior crimes now that they know about all of Lilly’s lies. A life on the run was not appealing at that point. Serving five years so they could move on with their lives and hopefully be with their partners after the fact was preferable. 

But I can only assume they declined legal counsel and a hearing/trial in exchange. If they requested legal counsel and got someone knowledgeable in exploitation, their cases and histories could have been examined in their entirety. A legal counsel set on advocating for them would have likely picked up any prior legal loopholes Lilly took advantage of, along with any fraud, coercion, abuse, and legal/illegal inconsistencies. With this evidence being documented, a strong case for their status as trafficking victims could have been established. This could have led to an even lesser sentence or no sentence at all. If it was determined that they needed to be in a restrictive environment, they would have likely ended up somewhere that focused on rehabilitation - not punishment - and it may have been for a much shorter time. Their status as trafficking survivors (if accepted by the courts, legal counsel, and Fadel and Bison themselves) would also likely result in expunged and sealed records. 

So while this drama is classified as a romantic comedy based on a Shakespeare play, it is ultimately tragic when it comes to systematic failure - as well as the long-term trafficking, abuse, and manipulation not being legally recognized for three key characters. Fadel, Bison, and Keen will likely never truly understand the scope of injustices they have faced. They were not only failed by Lilly. They were also failed by the system that should have saved them from her. 

[killjoygem]

I've seen people say that they shouldve waited until Piper Rockelle turned 18 to release the Kidfluencing documentary but honestly I kinda wonder if its better to do it now, before she turns 18. I think its pretty clear that she's being groomed to join the bop house as soon as she's of age, especially taking into account the reveal that her mother most likely exposed her to sex work when she was underage anyway.

Hopefully this documentary will lead to someone intervening before they can't do anything because "shes an adult who can make her own decisions"

[vengefvlx]

Cressida would always be grateful for those around her. So much of the Capitol was dog eat dog. People wanting to be on top and pushing others aside. But Cressida liked having a team. It was good to share the load. Of course Cressida wasn't overly good at sharing the load enough that she could properly rest. "You always are." She mused with a laugh. It was true. Cressida needed to work on asking for help more. Or maybe actually taking rests. Though she was of the opinion that she could rest properly when the war was over. Whenever that would be.

Cressida didn't comment any further on Coin's opinion. Whilst it was somethings okay to agree to disagree she wasn't confident on how Coin took people disagreeing with her. Cressida knew getting footage of the rescue out was important. But to her it felt like she was exploiting already vulnerable people by showing the reunions. Cressida had promised herself that when she left the Capitol that she would stop filming people that didn't want to be filmed. Hopefully one day soon she would actually be able to keep that promise. But until then, she'd try as much as she could. "That does sound like a good idea..." She murmured, her attention turning back to the screen. "I think there's a couple of shots of the backs of people....." She murmured, moving the mouse, and pulling a couple of different stills up. "That feels less invasive, and I think we'd still get the same impact." But without necessarily having to show too many faces. And hopefully Coin would be happy with that.

To someone else her welcome might have been unnecessary but to a man who'd grown up knowing that he was unwanted, there would always be comfort felt in knowing that he was. "Thanks. Happy to help." He smiled slightly at her but inwardly he couldn't help be cringe. As grateful as he was to be able to do something useful in the rebellion, there were times he felt uneasy having to speak for his fellow Victors. He felt in no real position to say with any authority where the line would be drawn. Still, he was grateful that the question was even being asked, rather than someone forging ahead with a propo that took nothing into account other than impact.

There's a slight nod given, appreciating Cressida's acknowledgement that it almost felt like crossing a line. "I'm sure she is." There's a slight bitterness to the words, finding himself feeling somewhat more cynical than usual. While he knows that they were better off in Thirteen than the Capitol, he's not sure how he feels about the way that they were fast becoming just as much of a spectacle there as they had been. Private moments being almost exploited under the guise of it all being for the rebellion. It's a thought that he pushed from his mind - now wasn't the time to begin deciding if the ends justified the means, just ensuring that they didn't lose momentum on what could be their only chance. "I think we aim to show as little as possible while keeping the impact. Maybe if we cut between things without lingering it'll feel better?"

[slickricklj]

Jill Valentine + Chris Redfield - When you know, you know.

Bonus:

[honeybeetlejuice]

Alien Stage is clearly a metaphor for the entertainment industry (especially the idoling industry), so let's talk about it. Because I feel as if that is overshadowed in the fandom.

(A post by not only a massive alien stage fan, but a newer child actress.)

TW: SA, CHILD EXPLOITATION, TALK OF BEAUTY STANDARDS & DIET CULTURE

I've heard people talk about Alien Stage being a metaphor for the idoling industry, but no one really goes in depth that I've seen. I also have a bit of experience and have done tons of research on the entertainment industry for my own career as an actress (who's currently looking for their first acting job. No, this isn't to try to be scouted, it's just to clarify i am not super experienced-)

So here's everything I could find that parallels. I apologize for any spelling or grammatical errors, my cat is laying on my arm right now and will not move-

The treatment of the contestants by aliens in alien stage, resembles the way people treat idols in media in our reality. People fan and obsess over their stage personas, yet behind closed doors they are horribly mistreated and abused.

Trauma and tragedy is exploited. In real life, talent shows and the like will make contestants use something bad that's happened to them to gain sympathy points from the audience. In Alien Stage, do I genuinely even need to explain? That show is a massive amount of tragedy, and Mizisua was almost definitely put together in round one for a reason -- to play with the aliens' feelings.

The way aliens exploit pet humans for fame and use them, is similar to the way parents/guardians exploit their children as child actresses. Children are trained from a young age to fit this standard and be entertainment for us.

SA is extremely common in the entertainment industry. Tons of people in the industry, especially producers and directors, end up being fucking creeps who sexually abuse the people they work with. I can name a plentitude of cases. I am not a victim of this myself so I cannot speak for victims, but it is something that absolutely happens. And in Alien Stage, Luka and Till (I've also heard Ivan?) have both been implied to be sexually abused, meaning it's probably not uncommon in that world either.

Insane beauty standards. IRL as an actor, you are fatshamed, every part of your body and appearance is nitpicked, you absolutely have to fit a beauty standard. Many people are extremely insecure, plastic surgery is common too. Not to mention, diet culture runs fucking rampant. People often are put through insane and risky diets. This is especially bad in the idoling industry. Then in Alien Stage, you can probably take note of multiple characters, but I'm going to focus on Luka for this point. Luka's eating habits are canonically strictly managed, and he isn't allowed to eat much. Not to mention, Luka, and likely other characters were literally fucking BRED FOR THIS?? Like its implied they quite literally kept making him again and again until they found one that fit their standard, resulting in all his issues as well.

Dare I say no privacy. The humans in alien stage are quite literally watched by aliens 24/7, allowed no freedom or privacy. In real life, maybe it isn't exactly this for actors, but people dig into their personal lives and allow them no privacy. People doxx information and stalk actors, to the point where there's been cases of people having to move houses because of crazy fans. When people ask to stay out the spotlight, people find them anyways.

May be forgetting some stuff, but my point is that Alien Stage is a metaphor for the entertainment industry, especially the idol industry. We are the real life aliens, if you think about it.

I honestly wish people talked about it more. It's so important to the show yet I feel like it's overshadowed by the romance aspects. That or it's a lack of media literacy. I'm honestly unsure.

[destielmemenews]

"Russian-born Durov was detained Saturday at Paris’s Bourget Airport on a warrant related to Telegram’s lack of moderation.

Those charges include allegations that his platform was complicit in aiding fraudsters, money launders, drug traffickers and people spreading child sexual exploitation content, French prosecutor Laure Beccuau said in a statement Monday. Beccuau added that Durov is accused of refusing to communicate “information or documents” related to the investigation."

source 1

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