#Violence in prostitution

[coochiequeens]

“Is it safe for one violent perpetrator, who is biologically male, to disrupt the lives of hundreds of incarcerated women for up to 14 years?"

By Genevieve Gluck December 4, 2023

A trans-identified male in the Netherlands charged with committing a brutal murder has been placed in a women’s prison ahead of his final hearings. Known only as “Daniela D.,” the 32-year-old Chilean national is accused of having stabbed a man 214 times, targeting his eyes, ears, and genitals.

The incident is said to have occurred on December 23 of 2022 during an altercation that took place at the home of Danny Roth. Daniela was reportedly working as a prostitute at the time in the Rotterdam region, with Roth being an occasional client.

Details of the moments leading up to the killing are unclear, though Daniela’s lawyer has attempted to forward “a case of self-defense excess.” with Daniela testifying that Roth had taken drugs which caused him to hallucinate.

“Danny took a hallucinogenic pill, a coffee-colored capsule. He dragged me by the hair to the kitchen. He threw a knife at me and I deflected it with my hand. He shouted ‘fucking whore’ and proceeded to punch me in the face and it really hurt. I have silicone all over my body and it was causing injuries,” Daniela said. He stated that he repelled the attack with his hand, sustaining an injury, and during the struggle Roth dropped the knife. Grabbing it from the floor, Daniela then began stabbing the man.

However, a forensic expert argued that Daniela’s claims do not align with the blood patterns spattered across the wall. According to an analysis of the crime scene, the victim’s blood was dusted high up across the walls. In Daniela’s version of events, the expert said, the blood would have mainly been on the ground and not “in an upward direction all around.”

An autopsy also showed that while there was alcohol and cocaine in Roth’s body, there were no traces of other substances, such as the purported “hallucinogenic pill” his system.

Additionally, Daniela made a disturbing admission in a recorded phone call shortly after the assault.

“I stabbed both eyes, so that he cannot recognize me when the police show him a photo. I stabbed his ears, so that he cannot hear questions from the police,” Daniela told a friend. “And I broke the bottle on his head. I didn’t want to stop hitting him.”

The Public Prosecution Service presented a different scenario from the story told by Daniela and pointed to the significant amount of cuts all over Roth’s body as an important indication of anger.

“The stabbing was deliberate and targeted. That is not fear, but anger and revenge. It is not self-defense but an attack.” A coroner determined that Roth’s penis was slashed with a knife after he was already dead.

Roth’s body was found on December 26, three days after the fatal attack, by a friend and a neighbor who stopped by wondering where he was. Roth had not shown up for appointments, and his family had become concerned when they could not contact him over the holidays. Roth’s body was discovered lying on the floor, surrounded by a pool of blood.

The victim’s sister testified in court and strongly condemned Daniela while requesting the maximum possible sentence.

“I hope your hand still hurts every day. When you go to sleep, I hope you see his face. You had an overwhelming anger, from the top of your head to your toes. So bad that the most gruesome horror film is nothing like it,” Roth’s sister told the accused.

Daniela D. has been residing illegally in the Netherlands since February 2022, where he has been involved in the sex industry. The court heard that he came from a broken home and that he had been “bullied” as a youth by peers who did not accept his gender identity.

The Public Prosecution Service is seeking a sentence of fourteen years in prison. The court in Dordrecht will announce its final verdict on December 5.

Despite being fully intact, Daniela is being detained in Ter Peel women’s prison, and it is anticipated that should he be convicted, he will serve his sentence in a women’s institution.

Journalist Sybilla Claus, writing for Brabants Dagblad, called the situation “unacceptable” for female inmates.

“Is it safe for one violent perpetrator, who is biologically male, to disrupt the lives of hundreds of incarcerated women for up to 14 years? The director of the largest women’s prison, Ter Peel, between Venlo and Helmond, thinks it’s fine. He had the extremely violent Chilean suspect, with male genitalia, placed there among the 226 women,” Claus wrote.

“They have the right to their own protection, privacy and dignity… Research shows that a large proportion of imprisoned women have been victims of physical and/or sexual violence as children and afterwards, and end up in an abusive relationship.”

Claus emphasized that “there are few female criminals in the Netherlands. There are three women’s prisons … which house around 3,000 women annually. Most are released within three months, because they commit lighter crimes,” she wrote. “Behavioral scientist Katharina Joosen interviewed about four hundred former women inmates. She described in 2015 that half have a criminal or addicted partner and have been treated for serious psychological problems due to trauma.”

[ninilovesmusic]

porn is shit

i was remembering a conversation i had not so long ago with a male acquaintance. we were talking about pornography, and we both have the same view on it regarding that it's unhealthy. however, not even once did he mention the sexual explotation of women in the porn industry, how it revolves around male pleasure, depicts male genitalia as an instrument of harm and distorted the experience of intimacy. no, he only talked about how it was quick dopamine and thus resulted in male depression because they now felt the need to jack off every five seconds. because it's "unhealthy" for men and promotes unrealistic standards on THEIR bodies. and not just him, but every man i've seen talking about porn addiction almost always talks about how it affects THEIR intimacy. a proof of how they see the biggest issue as collateral damage because they're not afffected by it

[c3realkilluhz]

I’m not elaborating anything either …

[strongcori]

(reupload) Something that bothers me a lot about libfems

[burningtheroots]

Sex isn’t a service, and women & their bodies aren’t commodities. You can‘t morally/ethically purchase either.

Sex is only consensual when it‘s mutual. And it‘s NOT mutual when money is involved. After all, if it was mutual, and thus consensual, money wouldn’t be needed. If you removed the money, the woman wouldn’t agree to it (she technically doesn’t "agree" to it either way due to money being a coercive factor).

But "sex work" always involves an exchange between (usually) a man’s money and (usually) a woman’s sexual service. And that’s sexual coercion, and hence it’s rape.

Simple logic, right? But apparently a huge amount of people traded their brains to live on easy mode, free from critical thinking and morality.

[3-2-whump]

Mistaken Accusation

<prev next>

Well, let's get into it. Beginning of the end. Special thanks to my beta readers @whumped-by-glitter and @generic-whumperz ! Do mind the tags, and enjoy

This chapter does reference The Hit, so please skim that first if you are not already familiar with it

Author's Note: This is where shit gets real (more real, that is), and where the author may make some decisions that might not vibe with the readers. To those readers, all I will say is fanfiction is a thing, canon divergence is a thing, and I will honestly be more intrigued than mad if you end up scrapping this part and writing your own version! (Just lmk, like tag me or dm me so I can see?) But, um, yeah, onto the chapter!

TW/CW: description and mention of STD, prostitution whump, mock execution, gun violence (brief, but there), collared whumpee, bound and blindfolded whumpee, shock, emotional whump, fear of death, pissing oneself out of fear, emotional angst, degrading language, toxic relationship, manipulative whumper, possessive whumper, intimate whumper

As Khaled relieved himself in the office bathrooms near the end of the day, he hissed under his breath at the burning sensation coming out of him. That can’t be good, he thought. What would make it feel like he was passing acid or fire down there? He looked down at his dick, eyes widening a little as he saw how inflamed his urethra looked. Khaled let out a mortified little squeak. What’s wrong with my penis?

Should I tell Master? Telling his master that he suspected he’d caught something would only lead to probing questions about Khaled’s sex life, even though he wasn’t the one who had visited every whorehouse within the tristate area. Probing questions about his sex life would mean admitting that he was sleeping with Julio, and admitting that he was sleeping with Julio would only fuel his master’s possessive side and make things far worse for him. Khaled could imagine no situation in which he would come out unscathed if he told Thomas about it. So, he decided not to tell him.

He didn’t have to endure his secret for long though, because as soon as he came back into his master’s office, he could sense the energy had changed. 

“Is there something wrong, Boss?” Khaled asked nervously.

“I have just received information from our foot soldiers and informants that the motorcycle that my would-be assassin rode when he got away came from Alvarez Auto and Motorcycles, a known front of Juicio Divino,” Thomas gritted out.

Khaled’s jaw dropped as his mind slowly put together the pieces that he had in his hands all along. Of course, it was Julio, how could I be so blind?! he thought. Just over a year ago, Khaled himself approached the scrapyard assassin asking him to teach him how to kill, and had been crawling back to him in various states of distress ever since. Julio was one of two people on earth who knew how badly Thomas actually treated him, and, combined with his overprotective tendencies, Khaled mentally beat himself up for not suspecting his boyfriend sooner. 

His master’s stormy gray eyes narrowed at Khaled in a piercing glare as he pushed his tablet across the desk. “Incidentally, you have been visiting Alvarez Auto pretty frequently over the past year, haven’t you?”

Khaled’s stomach twisted in dread as he leaned in closer to read it. There, opened on his slave tracking app, was a map with pins of most-frequently visited locations he had been tracked to, and there was a damning bright red pin at the address of Julio’s garage. His mouth went dry as he opened and closed it in shock, trying to collect the right words to say as the opportunity to beg for mercy slipped through his fingers like sand. “I- Master, I- it’s not what you think-”

The older man disdainfully held up a hand, a nonverbal cue that he didn’t want to hear it. Khaled shrank in on himself. “How did you even pay for a hit against me, huh?” the boss asked. “I know you haven’t made that much money since I’ve started paying you! How could you afford to put out a hit?” His voice lowered to a growl. “Did you bend over for that cholo son of a bitch? Did you let him fuck you like I fuck you? Is that why you’ve got an infection –don’t deny it, Khaled, it hurt when I pissed this morning!”

The world seemed to stop as the air quickly left Khaled’s lungs. Wait, what? He was being accused of conspiring against his master, then of being a whore within the same breath? And to make matters worse, he somehow gave his owner an STD before he realized he had one himself? His breaths came out shallow as his body began trembling in fear. What does this mean for me? What’s going to happen to me? He nearly passed out as his imagination went wild with how severe his punishment would be. “Master, please, I had no idea-”

“Shut up!”

Khaled ceased his begging instantly, a nauseous wave of dread coiling in his stomach as he waited for his master to dole out his sentence. “You will never see anybody besides me again,” his master said, glowering at him in contempt as Khaled’s eyes widened in horror. He got up from his chair and circled around Khaled, with a familiar black shock collar and a length of chain in hand. “I’ll give you a chance to say your goodbyes before we leave.”

Khaled regained enough of his senses to shake his head and back away from the man approaching him. “But, Master, I didn’t-”

The world snapped to the right in a stinging blow as Thomas backhanded him. Khaled rubbed his sore cheek and winced in pain. “You’re lucky I don’t outright kill you, though I still might, if you keep whining like that!” he yelled. Khaled turned silent and sullen, still cradling his sore cheek as the collar tightened like a noose around his throat. “Now, come on, let’s make your final goodbyes count.” His master attached the chain leash to a notch in the shock collar and pulled Khaled towards the exit.

-

Khaled was pulled through the whole office and out to the guard shack like that, stopping periodically as his master made him explain what was going on and why he was leaving to everyone they met. Khaled’s voice was shaking like a leaf the first stop they made; by the time they made it to the guard shack, he was unable to utter anything intelligible past his tears. Nico’s jaw dropped as Thomas explained what had happened and why Khaled was never going to see him again.

“But, he didn’t do it, sir!” he objected, pushing himself out of his desk chair and standing up to face him. “He had no part in it! I can prove it, just listen to me!”

As much as Khaled wanted to interrogate that ‘I can prove it’ claim just a little more, Tom ignored him. He pulled the leash taut and yanked Khaled away. Khaled frantically pulled at the collar around his neck, emitting choked gasps as he stumbled along and struggled to keep up.

They ended up back at the car, where Tom unclipped his leash and pushed the button on the key fob to unlock the trunk of the car. Khaled was shoved up roughly against the side of the car as his hands were gathered behind his back and bound tightly by a soft and silky material, most likely a necktie. “Master, please, please, hear me out –I didn’t put a hit on you, I swear!” he once again tried to explain through a mess of snot and tears. “I don’t want to kill you, why would I want to kill you? Please –listen to me! I don’t want to kill you; I swear I didn’t know!” Thomas dragged him to the back of the car, where he stared down at him in cold fury. He took out a dark cloth from his pocket and unfolded it. Khaled preemptively opened his mouth to receive it, but then the man tied the cloth around his eyes to blind him. He quietly shut his mouth as the blindfold was tied tight enough to catch his hair. He heard the trunk of the car quietly whoosh open before he was picked up and shoved inside. The door of the trunk slammed shut, sealing him in an extra layer of darkness.

The ride seemed to stretch on forever as Khaled shivered in the darkness. It was still far too cold to be riding back there without anything to keep him warm. Throughout the darkness he begged, then screamed, then cried, then sniffled, knowing damn well his master couldn’t hear him.

Time seemed to work differently in the dark, cramped confines of a car trunk. Khaled was unsure of how much time had passed since he was shoved in the trunk, but he was more than concerned that they seemed to keep driving far longer than it usually took to get back to the apartments. He’s never going to forgive me, he realized as he rested his head onto the floor of the trunk. He really thinks I planned to kill him, and now he’s going to take me out into the woods and kill me, or do something so horrific it will make me wish I had died. A fresh round of tears soaked into his blindfold as Khaled whimpered pathetically. I don’t want to die, not like this.

Goddamnit, Julio, you tried to be the hero, and now I’m gonna end up dead in a ditch somewhere, Khaled cursed in his head.

The car rolling to a stop and faint click that preceded the trunk unlocking made Khaled’s heartrate speed up. A new wave of anxiety hit him much like the blast of midwinter air when the trunk was opened and he was pulled out. He didn’t feel concrete underneath his shoes, and the fresh icy chill of the air around him told him they weren’t in the parking garage. We really are in the woods somewhere, he thought, his hopes sinking like lead as his master’s hand gripped his elbow and steered him along to an unknown destination. He’s really driven me out to the woods somewhere to kill me. Khaled stumbled as his foot hit an unseen obstruction, but his master dragged him along regardless. This is it. I’m gonna die. His breaths started picking up, heart racing as that last thought worked him up into another nervous state. His owner stopped and threw him forward onto the ground. Khaled landed face first into a cold and wet patch of snow, judging on how it felt when it absorbed his impact. “Get up and kneel.” Khaled’s breaths stopped in his throat. There was no room in his master’s frigid tone for argument. He pushed himself up the best he could with his hands bound behind his back, shivering not just from the cold as he assumed a kneeling position.

A cold, metallic object pressed against the back of the young man’s skull. “If you’ve got anything to say, say it now,” his master’s voice said behind him. A wet and warm spot began to soak his pants in the front. Khaled’s mind went blank. He was so scared he nearly forgot his owner had asked for his last words. He caught his trembling lip between his teeth before shaking his head. Whatever he could say for his last words would go unheeded anyway, lost in the winter’s chill and the indifferent New England woods. He hung his head in resignation, ready for the explosive pain followed by sudden oblivion and nothingness, or whatever it was that lie ahead.

He had at least hoped he would see his father’s face before the end. But the only image his shielded eyes could conjure up before he died was a pair of sharp, steel gray eyes.

Click.

Nothing happened.

The gun lowered, and heavy footsteps crunched in the snow as his would-be executioner walked around to the front of him.

Khaled was still alive. Somehow, he was still alive. There was a light brush of hands reaching behind his head before the blindfold fell away, revealing a familiar face staring down at him with those same steel gray eyes. Khaled’s breath shimmered in the cold moonlit night. He was alive. He wasn’t going to die. He was alive.

All the fear and tension left his body like his vaporous breath in the night as he slumped forward, crying tears of relief into his master’s shoulder as he caught him. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you,” he sobbed between each breath.

“Shhh, shhh, it’s alright, it’s alright,” Thomas soothed as he reached behind Khaled to untie his hands. “I believe you for now, it’s alright.” As soon as his hands were free, Khaled wrapped them around the older man’s neck, hugging him close as he bawled into his shoulder. “I thought about it, but there is no way I can definitively prove it was you.” A muscular pair of arms wrapped around him and held him close, drawing him into the warmth. “And besides, my favorite fuck toy, plotting to kill me?” His master laughed. “No way you’re smart enough for that! I didn’t buy you for your brains, you know!”

“Yes, yes, I’m stupid, I am so fucking stupid, thank you!” Khaled cried. He nuzzled his cold wet face into Tom’s warm neck and peppered the man’s jawline with kisses, murmuring his gratitude between every kiss. He was alive, he didn’t die, and that was the only thing that mattered in that moment.

“Let’s go home,” Thomas said, hoisting Khaled onto his feet. “The takeout I bought is getting cold, and you need a change of pants.”

He led the young man through the woods back to side of the road where he had parked his car. “I was completely serious about you never seeing anybody else again, by the way,” he reminded him as he opened the passenger side door. Khaled slid gratefully inside, happy to be in the heated part of the car. “You are relieved of your duties to the organization from now on,” Tom continued as he joined him on the driver’s side, “You are demoted to domestic service. You will stay at home and keep the penthouse spotless, welcoming me to it every evening with warm food and your warmer body. You will stay in the apartment and not leave for anything unless it is with me or a trusted associate. You will never see anybody again. That’ll keep you from conspiring to kill me, or from spreading your legs for anyone else but me, and only I will decide when it’s time to bring you back out again.” He pushed the button and started up the vehicle, setting the heaters to full blast.

Khaled nodded. What did he care about being stuck at home and never seeing anybody again? He was alive, and right now, as he held his freezing fingers close to the vents, that was all that mattered.

Le Tag List: @kabie-whump @rainydaywhump @whumped-by-glitter @skittles-the-whumpee @generic-whumperz @bamber344 @there-will-always-be-blood @morning-star-whump @a-la-whump @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @defire

[dorkofclanlavellan]

Finnick & the Princess

Note 1: Voters wanted this series to be fem!reader, so here she is. But I'm going to try to keep her as neutral as possible in other ways. Note 2: Also I'll be using Princess in place of y/n Note 3: Because we don't know exactly how Volunteering works in Career Districts other than "it's more complicated" I just decided to make up my own hc. In Career Districts after people stop volunteering the escort goes through a process of talking with each volunteer and then picks the one they think will be more entertaining for the Capitol. Pairings: Finnick Odair x fem!Reader Warning(s): Canon typical content - Violence, death, human trafficking, blackmail. Also parental neglect & emotional abuse.

Princess volunteered at the reapings of the 68th Hunger Games, not because she actually wanted to but because her parents had made it clear that if she didn't volunteer, be selected for, and win the Games before she aged out, she would be disowned.

So for years she'd been constructing a persona she knew would not only get her selected for the Games but would get her at least a few sponsors.

She spoke at a higher pitch than usual, she giggled and hummed and frolicked. And the Capitol ate it up. She only ever dropped the facade when she was completely alone with her mentors. Finnick liked to dip back and forth between complimenting her acting skills and teasing her for the things she did and said in her false persona. Not even her District partner saw her true personality, so he fell for the act as well.

As much as the Capitol citizens were enthralled with the District 4 girl, no one expected her to actually be skilled. She didn't engage in any combative skill in training, she skimmed over the survival skills and she didn't speak with the other Careers. Between her facade and her ignoring them, the Career Pack excluded her and only took in the boy from her District.

Then came the training scores. And everyone was shocked when Princess got a 10. What could she possibly have done to land a score that high? Many speculated that the Gamemakers had merely pitied her, or were so mesmerized by her that they accidentally added a 0 after her real score.

In her interview with Caesar Flickerman, Princess batted her eyes, and sounded naively optimistic.

During the countdown for the Bloodbath, everyone was betting Princess would be dead before the day's end. Then the gong sounded and Princess was off before anyone else could react. It was clear she was by far the fastest of this year's tributes. By the time the District 2 female (Lilith Creswick) and District 1 male (Riesling Munza) caught up to Princess, she'd grabbed a decent amount of supplies including 2 bags which she had shouldered, and a sword.

In what seemed like a single flowing motion, Princess slipped around Lilith, raised her sword arm, and sliced open Riesling's throat. She then proceeded to practically twirl past other tributes, snatching up a wicker basket full of food on her way and ran off.

Everyone was in shock from the Capitol elite, to the other tributes, even Finnick and Mags who were privy to the fact that Princess was putting on a fake persona. The only people who weren't surprised were those present for her private session with the Gamemakers.

Princess continued to surprise during her games, presenting a persona of a naive but mesmerizing girl one moment and in the next efficiently killing or otherwise causing the death of other tributes. One thing became clear to everyone Princess had a sharp mind.

After her win, Princess was able to drop her facade whenever she was home in District 4 and cameras weren't on her. Otherwise, she kept up her whimsical act.

Unfortunately, this persona didn't save her from President Snow threatening her family to force her into prostitution. If anything it increased demand to have her. Too many elite pricks manifested or discovered a corruption kink for Princess.

Princess' only reprieve from her trauma was Finnick. They couldn't make their quickly developing relationship public but that was fine with the both of them. It made their relationship feel more real because it was just for them and not for the Capitol.

[awesomecooperlove]

⚠️⚠️⚠️PART TWO⚠️⚠️⚠️

😍🥰😘

[mysticstarlightduck]

Villain Crimes Tag!

I had this idea for a tag game a while ago and I think its time I finally put it to practice!!! Plus I think its really cool and you guys will probably enjoy it!

Rules: What crimes would your villains be convicted of if they faced trial in the real world? In short, list what crimes your villains have commited, in modern terms.

TW. Mention of some pretty gnarly crimes - but NOT in detail - because these are Villains after all.

Supernova Initiative

The Director/Dr. Darius Merrik

Multiple counts of First & Second Degree Murder + Manslaughter (The Director, behind the scenes, is a very brutal and vicious man - the antithesis of whom he pretends to be to the population. Darius has ordered the execution of/personally killed multiple people who were accused of stirring up "illegal insurrection and rebel efforts" against the Junction, as well as has killed any and all who discover his secret experiments without his explicit permission. His methods of experimentation are also so brutal and extreme that his subjects/victims often, really often, die as a result of it, whether that was the intent or not. Darius doesn't care at all, being at most disappointed at needing to find another test subject and starting from scratch.)

Human Experimentation/Torture/Illegal Laboratories (As mentioned before; Darius is a mad scientist who conducts highly illegal experiments on people, especially those who stand against him. He believes what he is doing will supposedly "bring even more progress" too the galaxies and change the tides of the civil war, and doesn't care how many innocent people he brutalizes in the process. Countless people have already gone through his secret labs - without the population of the Junction even knowing there was a secret lab - and most of his test subjects have died as a result of the experiments, and those who did not were changed in horrifying ways)

Blackmail/Extortion (Darius often counts in severe forms of blackmail and extortion to keep his rivals in line and to make people obey him. Part of how he became so powerful and influential in the Junction was by blackmailing and extorting powerful people and eliminating any possible chance of people looking into his schemes. Another example of this is that the Director only manages to get Jack Tithus to comply to becoming his test subject by threatening to hurt the young man's sister. To protect her, Jack accepted to be experimented on.)

Funding terrorist groups & War Factions/Accesory to Colonization (The Director holds a strong position of power in the Junction, often tampering directly with the civil war by funding extremist organizations and raiding war factions in order to "facilitate" the Junction's advance into enemy territory. Because of him, factions like the Skull-Reapers - space pirates/raiders - were able to raze whole planets - like Acaeth - and allow the installment of Junction settlements there. He also vehemently supports the Junction's official military advances onto other independent planets, and often provides the government's Sentries with new weaponry and armor.)

Ecological Destruction (The Director also funds many mining and deforestation efforts in non-Junction planets, often to get the raw materials he needs for his inventions and experiments, but also to profit from the trade of those spoils. The sheer rate of these "efforts" have already caused considerable devastation and damage to those planets' ecosystems.)

Embezzlement/Money Laundering (Darius is one of the richest men in the Junction, being also one of the most influential. But where does he get that money? From his experiments, inventions and trades? Yes, but that is only a small fraction of it. Most of his vast fortune comes from money laundering and corruption schemes, especially targeting politicians who somehow pose a threat to his plans, a self-fueling cycle that maintains his sheer fortune no matter how much money he spends)

Eldora Thalax

Multiple counts of First Degree Murder, Multiple War Crimes & Genocide (she literally is a warlord hellbent on conquering as much territory as she can both in her planet and others. Eldora is a skilled warrior and assassin, and has killed people before - many of them innocent citizens of places that refused to bow to her tyranny. She also sent hitmen after her husband when he and their son ran away from her, leading to his assassination)

High Treason (Eldora has essentially betrayed her people's high council, known as the Hearth, after her mother and the actually honorable Matriachs denounced her disgustingly ways and exiled her. She also betayed many political deals to have more advantage. Eldora wrongly believes that if she gets as many conquests as she can, that the Matriarchs will forgive her and accept her back, giving her a seat at the Hearth, when she's actually proving them right about her - kinda like Lord Shen did in Kung Fu Panda 2)

Sexual Coercion (her relationship/marriage to Damen was arranged and thus she specifically didn't... really care about his consent or not. Full 'Game of Thrones' arranged marriage to make heirs kind of situation but make it futuristic - he technically said 'yes' to the marriage but did he have a choice? No.)

Kidnapping, Torture & Human Experimentation (She is known to torture prisoners of war, especially those who once held positions of power - at times just for fun, at other times for information, for compliance or to extract information. When Deimos Soll discovered how corrupt she is and tried to desert her ranks, she captured him and had him tortured AND experimented on in an attempt to brainwash him into some kind of supersoldier)

Domestic Abuse/Psychological Torment (Eldora was very abusive to both her husband, Damen, and their son, Kye. Though most - but not all - of her outbursts of physical abuse were directed at her husband, the former prince of the region she'd conquered, Eldora was extremely emotionally abusive to Kye as well, especially because she had a tendency to threaten to hurt his father further to get their boy to obey her)

Dictatorship (Eldora has conquered multiple regions of her home planet and has long since started "brainching out" her influence to other nearby planets, almost conquering an entire solar system. She is known for being a cruel, corrupt, violent and often ruthless ruler who controls the places she conquers with an iron fist.)

Illegal Arms Trade + Slave Trade (Eldora prides herself in having the most top-of-the-line weaponry in the galaxies, being an ardent client of many infamous arms dealers and intercepts some of those goods to sell to her allies. She also is known for proffiting from enslaving portions of the civilizations she conquers, especially if they try to rebel or are accused of trying to betray her, or simoly are her prisoners of war, and selling them as slaves in the underworld market to the highest bidder, though she keeps many to strenghten her armies.)

Arachnys & Red Adder

Racketeering/Fraud/Loan Sharking (They are mobsters. The most dangerous mobsters in the galaxies. The Crime King and Queen. Protection schemes, false business/racketeering, major fraud are just another tuesday to them, and a huge part of what they do on a daily basis.)

Illegal Drug Trade (Any and all addictive substances in EITHER GALAXIES is sold and manufactured by people working under the behest of Arachnys and Red Adder, especially some high-ranking crime families. They're known for making some of the most dangerous and addictive/destructive drugs in any planetary system, and keep their control over their planets underworlds by using those chemicals to keep the population obedient/dependent on their supply)

Being Leaders of a Criminal Organization/Mob (Self-explanatory. Arcahnys and Red Adder are the heads of the most dangerous and powerful crime family/mob in the Khosmonian galaxies, and now in the Junction as well.)

Illegal Casinos/Houses of Gambling (And man do they profit off of it, because those places are popular in both galaxies!)

Human Trafficking, Slave Trade, Organ Trade (They are known for being involved in the most nefarious side of the interplanetary black market, and that includes, unfortunately, the trade of people - be it in full, by selling/buying slaves to/from warlords like Eldora Thalax, with whom they have a longstanding business relationship with, or in... parts, because they also sell organs and cybernectic parts, which they harvest from humanoids and cyborgs that fall into their hands.)

Illegal Prostitution Schemes/Forced Prostitution/Dehumanization (The MAIN "business" of the Saphir crime family is the "pleasure business". They pride themselves on having the finest brothels and strip-clubs in their planets, with most of the entertainers being either slaves they've captured/bought OR... sentient robots. Not cyborgs, but actual, sentient robots, their newest and most popular invention - sentient robots, unlike cyborgs, are fully artificial despite looking like regular humanoids, and their adaptable appearance makes them very popular in the Saphir's business. Meridian Shardd, the story's most innocent character, was one of those sentient robots - having gained conscience/broken free of their programming shortly after being manufactured, Meridian ran away from the factory thankfully before being put to work by the mob, and is terrified of being found.)

Tagging (gently): @kaylinalexanderbooks, @smol-feralgremlin,

@oh-no-another-idea, @littleladymab, @winterandwords, @eccaiia,

@the-letterbox-archives, @illarian-rambling @agirlandherquill, @anoelleart,

@ray-writes-n-shit @writernopal, @anyablackwood, @unstablewifiaccess, @topazadine

@forthesanityofstorytellers, @finickyfelix

@cauliflowermaterial @thepeculiarbird,

@clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes, and OPEN TAG

Taglist for Supernova Initiative below the cut! 🌠

Supernova Initiative Taglist (-/+): @ray-writes-n-shit, @sarandipitywrites, @smol-feralgremlin, @kaylinalexanderbooks,

@diabolical-blue @oh-no-another-idea

@cakeinthevoid, @clairelsonao3,

@thepeculiarbird

@the-golden-comet, @urnumber1star, @ominous-feychild, @anyablackwood, @amaiguri,

@lyutenw @finickyfelix

@elshells, @thecomfywriter

[cometomecosette]

"Les Misérables" musical character interpretations: Fantine

As usual, these three characterizations are all based on performances I've seen, either in person or filmed. They can also be, and often are, combined with each other to create still more characterizations. For example, Anne Hathaway's Oscar-winning Fantine in the film version is basically "the Ingénue," but with a distinct undertone of "the Fighter." And none of them are precisely Hugo's Fantine. I'd say that they all represent aspects of the character as Hugo wrote her, and that the ideal Fantine would blend all three of them, as the occasional actress does.

I'd like to thank @quarryquest for sending me the Fantine chapter of her book on the stage history of Les Mis just as I was in the middle of writing this. It provided excellent insights.

The Lady

         This Fantine, in the words of Victor Hugo, displays “a serious and almost austere dignity.” At the beginning, her dress and hair are as neat, clean, and pretty as factory work allows, and her bearing is strikingly graceful and refined. She clearly once knew a better, more elegant life before her lover abandoned her. This sets her apart from the rough, uneducated factory folk who surround her, and at first, she might seem slightly cold and haughty in her distance from them, which no doubt contributes to how quickly they turn on her. But “I Dreamed a Dream” earns all our sympathy as she sings of her lost happiness, while in “Lovely Ladies” she moves us further by slowly sacrificing all her elegance for her daughter. Yet she never loses her core of pride and dignity. While this Fantine has as much raw anguish as any other, she tries to hide it from her oppressors under a brave face. Though she might reach the verge of tears several times, she’ll rarely let herself cry. When the moment of selling her body arrives, she’ll swallow her grief and fear with the drink she’s given, and offer a firm, resolute hand to her first customer. Her “Come on, captain…” is sultry, but not drunk or grotesque; instead, her hard, cold tone evokes Hugo’s description of the fallen Fantine as having “turned to marble.” Her rejection of Bamatabois will be calm and businesslike until he turns violent, and when “Monsieur Madeleine” approaches her, she’ll express her anger with head held high, making it clear that she sees him as no better than herself. This Fantine is a gemstone that’s thrown into the mud of the streets, but never breaks.

The Ingénue

         This is a warmer, softer Fantine than the Lady, and whether the actress is twenty-five or forty, she’ll probably seem younger too. This characterization keeps in mind that Fantine’s name means “childlike” and that her “tragic flaw” in her past was her naïveté. Despite being an abandoned mother, she hasn’t entirely lost that naïveté at first. Her air of gentle innocence is what sets her apart from the other, more worldly factory folk, and throughout the factory scene she’ll be frightened and brutally shocked by the cruelty she faces. Then “I Dreamed a Dream” will overflow with anguish, and likely with tears too. With just cause, this Fantine is more prone to tears than any other. More than the loss of her dignity, the tragedy of “Lovely Ladies” is the loss of her innocence, which dies once and for all when she accepts her first prostitution client, crying or trembling with fear as she does so. What comes next will depend on whether the director thinks the “Old men, young men…” verse contains a time skip or not. If not, then this Fantine will be awkward and nervous on “Come on, captain…” still all too new to her profession. But if so, then she’ll reenter heartbreakingly transformed: staggering drunk, crudely flaunting her body, utterly disheveled and broken. Either way, she rejects Bamatabois out of rash fear, then claws at his face in rash, animalistic rage. Abuse and misery reduce this vulnerable young woman to behaving like a cornered stray dog or cat. Yet through it all, there’s never a doubt that her heart remains pure and tender, because everything she endures is for the sake of her little girl.

The Fighter

           This is the grittiest Fantine. Her portrayal reminds us that Hugo’s Fantine was an orphan who grew up on the streets and that he describes her as having “fierce courage.” This is a passionate, determined woman who boldly stands up to her oppressors and who battles all obstacles to provide for her daughter. Like the Lady, she values and defends her dignity, but hers is a stolid, down-to-earth working-class dignity, not aristocratic grace. In “At the End of the Day,” she’ll protect her letter from the Factory Girl with the fierceness of a mother bear, and her self-defense to the Foreman will be firm and simmering with frustration. Her “I Dreamed a Dream” will also be angry as well as anguished and yearning, and in “Lovely Ladies,” the chief tragedy will be that despite her valiant efforts to stay “above the water,” poverty pulls her under anyway. Her prostitution sequence may or may not be drunken, but it will most definitely be hard, brash, and filled with biting rage. In her bitterness, this fallen Fantine will recall Jean Valjean as a convict before the Bishop’s mercy, and when she confronts him about her firing, she’ll stop just short of attacking him. None of this means she lacks vulnerability or deep, heartbreaking sadness; like any Fantine, she has them in spades. But the way she combines them with strength and anger make her a more complex figure than other Fantines, and arguably, it makes the gentleness of her deathbed scene especially poignant. There, for the first time, we fully see the motherly tenderness that lies beneath her fire, and which has motivated her struggles all along.

More comparisons to come!

[kiseiakhun]

You know, as someone who is a sex worker I understand why people get up in arms about how "sex work aus are bad" and it promotes bad stereotypes or whatever

But I gotta say, those aus where one half of your otp is a down on their luck prostitute and gets Saved by someone who Rescues Them From Their Awful Life is like crack to me.

[yuri-for-businesswomen]

tw: sexual violence. this essay by ananya pandya is really good, here are some excerpts

her instagram is @/jesuswasajock

[ravenzeppeli]

Claimed

Chapter 40 - History Finds Itself Repeating|Formaggio + Illuso x Reader Angst|

Warning: strong/vulgar language, cheating, stalking, physical abuse, verbal abuse, noncon threat, choking [murder attempt], extremely dark chapter. MA.

2 Months Later

Formaggios POV

"Thanks," Formaggio muttered, tossing two 50s on the ground next to the random blonde that just finished sucking him off. "Make sure to keep your fucking mouth shut. Last bitch told my girl, she don't need to know this shit." He turned to the side, sliding the condom filled with cum off of his cock, letting it fall to the ground. The condom made a plop on the ground, his sticky white cum spilling out all over the alleyway floor.

"I'll keep my mouth shut," the girl muttered, snatching the money off of the ground. "Your cock is like, so amazing. I wish that you would be my boyfriend. You're so handsome."

A laugh escaped his lips, his eyes rolling. "You don't gotta compliment me for more money, honey. You did okay, I'll give you a little tip." He slid a 20 out of his pocket, this time handing it to the young woman on her knees in front of him. "My girl never fucking compliments me."

"I'm sorry," she replied, taking the 20 and shoving it in her bra, along with the two 50s. "If you're ever looking for a girlfriend, I would compliment you every day. A strong man like you deserves to be loved."

Money was a little tight, as it always is. The boss hardly paid him shit, but this little honey was feeding into his ego hard. Being complimented by a woman felt so nice. Why couldn't you compliment him like this? It'd be nice to hear how sexy and strong he was from the woman he loved instead of some random honey.

"Just take the rest of the night off, honey," he replied, slipping a 50 out of his pocket and handing it to her. "Buy yourself something pretty. And remember, if you run into my girl, walk the other way immediately. I don't wanna hear her pretty little mouth bitching me out for having fun." Fun, it was just harmless fun. Harmless fun that you wouldn't find out about again.

💜🧡💜🧡💜

Formaggio never felt bad about his personal affairs. What a man did in their private business was their business alone. He took good care of you, and he made sure that you were happy. Sharing you with six other men also made him feel less guilty about getting his dick sucked. It's not like he was fucking these girls and spending time with them. It was just a way to relax after a hard day. What's the harm in that?

He planned to approach you as soon as he entered the base, but you were already outside as he walked over to the front entrance. Illuso was standing directly beside you, his hand having an iron grip on your waist.

"I'm going to tell him what you've been doing," Illuso immediately snapped at you, unwrapping his arm from around you, his eyes locking onto Formaggio. "Are you fucking clueless? Am I fucking clueless?" He questioned, red eyes filled with a mix of panic and anger.

A feeling of anger quickly washed over Formaggio, looking past Illuso to land his glare directly on you. "What the fuck did you do?" He had no fucking clue what you could have possibly done, considering you were a pretty low maintenance and well behaved girlfriend. Never did he have to do much of anything with you unless he wanted too. He couldn't even recall a time where you've ever asked him for anything.

"I didn't do anything," you muttered, eyes dropping to the ground. "Just drop it, Illuso. You don't need to bring Formaggio or anyone else into this. We've all done bad things here, and my thing is less bad."

"Shut your fucking mouth," Illuso snapped at you, turning back to look at you. "It doesn't matter what the fuck we do! You mind your goddamn business like we mind ours when it comes to you! You fucked up, you crossed a goddamn line!"

"Fucks going on?" Formaggio questioned, stepping forward, feeling completely fucking clueless. What could you have possibly done that was so fucking bad? That would actually cause him to give the slightest fuck? "You cheating on us? That what it is?" A scoff escaped your lips, his eyebrows immediately shooting up in surprise. "Illuso, what did she do?" He didn't take his eyes off of you.

Illuso walked past Formaggio, hand reaching forward as he grabbed your jaw, his fingers tucking under your chin as he yanked your head up, forcing you to look at Formaggio, "She's been fucking following us. Watching us. For goddamn three months."

"What?" Formaggio questioned, more shocked than angry. How did he not know that you were watching him? This had to be a misunderstanding. You weren't capable of anything. For fucks sake, he never even let you use your stand, he just made you drive them around while they did the heavy lifting. All you were was just their pretty little girlfriend, you weren't capable of successful stalking anyone. Suddenly, he laughed, shaking his head. "If you caught her doing it once then it doesn't mean that she's done it before." Fuck, Illuso was an idiot.

At times, you were a little sneaky. He'll give you that. During the night, you always seemed to slip out of his bed before he woke up. It's been months since he's woken up, and you've been next to him. Even when he clings to you, you still find a way to sneak out of his bed and go sit on the couch or in the dining room. Maybe you were just good at walking on your toes, he didn't fucking know.

Illuso let out a dry laugh, "She's been paying the girls that have been sucking our dicks." His grip seemed to tighten as the amusement suddenly draining from Formaggios face. "Wanna know how I found out? It was pure fucking luck, all because I mark the money that I give Y/N." His eyes immediately cut over to you. "You think you're so fucking smart, don't you? Think you're smart enough to embarrass us and never get caught?"

"You only got caught because you do what he does," you spoke calmly, giving your shoulders a gentle shrug. "It's more complex than that."

Formaggio felt as if his heart was about to explode out of his chest. With disbelief, he stared at you, shocked that you actually did all of this without getting caught. "How did you catch her?" He muttered, not taking his glare off of you as he stepped closer, leaning down slightly so that he was in your face. "More complex?" He felt like a goddamn idiot. How could he not have realized you were watching him? How did he not know that you were aware of his cheating? Goddamnit!

"I went to get my dick sucked this morning. Asked the girl for change, and she pulled out a bunch of 20s," Illuso spoke, shaking his head. "When I give Y/N money, I mark the right hand corner with a small red x to see if she ever uses the money I give her. When I threatened to blow the girls brains out, she spilled the beans and told me everything. Says our little girlfriend approached her and some other girls, paying them to give us longer and better blow jobs."

"Why the fuck would you want us to cheat on you?" Formaggio snapped, his hands balling into fists. "Y/N, what the fuck?"

You said nothing, your eyes dropping to avoid his glare. Visibly, you were stiff, uncomfortable with how close he was. How close they both were. Nearly 8 months together, and still you couldn't stand him. Still you made him fuck you with a condom on as if he had a fucking disease. All this was starting to really get under his skin, and he had a feeling that Illuso felt the same way as him.

"She's trying to get us to fall in love with another girl," Illuso muttered, his hands dropping to your throat, jaw locking. "That fucking bitch told me everything Y/N. How you approached them and were paying them, telling them be extra nice to us and compliment us. I was wondering why all these random cunts were saying my dicks amazing and I'm fucking attractive. You fucking little.. you.. you fucking..." He seemed to be struggling to find the words, his hand grasping tighter at your throat. "How dare you humiliate me!"

Formaggio stepped back a little, not being able to take his eyes off of you. This was insane. He had no idea that you were capable of doing something like this for months without getting caught. On top of that, all these random women now think that his girl hates him! This was a tricky situation because both Illuso and him did tell you that they wouldn't cheat on you. So your lie was just a reflection of their lie, so what the fucks he supposed to do?

"Can't we just be coworkers?" You questioned softly, that getting you an instant slap across the face from Illuso. "Is that a yes? We can just coexist together. You can do your thing, guys, and it'll be fine. I just feel like it would be better if you both broke up with me." The slap didn't even make you flinch, the red handprint mark staining the side of your cheek, your head remaining in place.

"You're gonna get a beating," Illuso snapped, raising his hand, Formaggio immediately noticing that it was a fist. Quickly, he grabbed Illusos fist, dragging him away from you. "Man, what are you doing!? We need to beat her ass! She's been doing crazy shit all because she wants us to dump her!"

Beating you was something that Formaggio so badly wanted to do. Of course, he wanted to punch you in the face and bend you over his lap. So badly, did he want to scream at you and threaten you for stalking him, scare you so badly that you throw up all over yourself like you did last time. When you acted up, you deserved a good beating. That's just what happened when you crossed lines. But a different idea suddenly crossed his mind.

"You know, a lot of times you've stalked Illuso and I, it's been at night," Formaggio added in, causing Illuso to immediately freeze. "Doesn't Ghiaccio have a certain rule that forbids you from going out at night all alone? One that will get you in trouble with him?" You weren't the only one that fucking knew things.

Dread washed over your face, a smirk quickly spreading over Illusos. "I think I should give Ghiaccio a call and tell him," Illuso added in. "I bet he would be so fucking pissed at you. It would probably ruin your relationship with him."

Formaggio let Illuso go, staring into your eyes and finally seeing that you were nervous. This was his chance. "We aren't going to be leaving you. In fact, I think it's time you tell us something very important." He placed his hands on your shoulders, forcing you down to your kness. "Get on your knees you stalking cunt, don't say shit or I'll call Ghiaccio."

You let him force you to your kness, a smug look appearing on Illusos' face as he stepped forward. "Look up at us." Grabbing a fistful of your hair as he leaned down, he snatched your head back, forcing you to look at them. "You're so smart, aren't you? We'll turn you into a dumb bitch."

"Don't hurt me," you muttered, "I didn't do anything wrong. If anything, I was helping you both out. I don't love either of you, I want you to spend more time with those other girls. The less I see you both the better." How are you still not fucking scared of them? You should be begging not to get beat, not pushing them further!

"You disobedient bitch," snapped Illuso, but his grip loosened on your hair. "I love you, you clueless fucking cunt! I fucking love you! That was the first time in two months that I cheated!"

Formaggio smacked Illusos' arm. "It's not cheating if it's condom blow jobs! It's not cheating if we fucking pay for it!" He raised his hand again, wanting to slap Illuso, but that was mainly due to his frustration with you. "Illuso, fuck this bitch. Fuck her. She doesn't love us. She never will. She's just pussy, that's all she'll ever be in this family."

"I'm a part of this team, and you'll never be able to get rid of me," you spat out, your blank face turning dark. A glare that he found more cute than threatening spread across your face, your eyes locking onto Formaggio. "You are a garbage excuse for a man. I hate you, and I hate you more than I hate Illuso. Laying down next to you at night makes me feel sick. I hate when you fucking touch me. I'll never care about you cheating, it just makes you look like a jackass. Enjoy never being cared about by me, I can't stand you bitch. Call Ghiaccio and tell him. I don't give a fuck."

A man can only take so much before they snap. Fuck it, he didn’t give a fuck. Fuck holding back and not hitting you. With all of his force he raised his fist, cracking it into the side of your skull. He didn't care about damaging you brain. In this moment he found himself wanting to fucking rip you apart. If only he was allowed to use his stand on you. He would shrink you and finally make you feel fear. Risotto knew all of them so well, it was smart that he forbid the men from using their stands on you. If he didn't respect and secretly fear Risotto then he would break that rule, but he wouldn't dare cross his capo.

Your head roughly jerked to the side, blood beginning to pour from the side of your skull. If it wasn't for the grip that Illuso had on your hair, then you would have probably collapsed. Illuso immediately let go of your hair, your back leaning against the brick wall as your head limply hung. Silence came from you, your body still as a rock despite the drops of blood that puddled in front of you.

"You want me as an enemy, you fucking bitch!?" Formaggio yelled at you, pushing back Illuso roughly as he tried to grab him. "You got one now. We are done, just like you want. You aren't my girl anymore, and now that I have no reason to protect you I'm going to make your life a living hell! I'm going to break you, I'm going to destroy you!" He dropped to his kness in front of you, hands tightly grasping around your throat, forcing you to look at him. Forcing you to show fear. "CRY! YOU FUCKING CUNT, CRY!"

With speed, you spit in his face, coating his face with your bloody spit. A forced smile suddenly spread across your lips, and that smile was meant to taunt him. "I'm free from you. Why cry?"

"If we fuck her up too bad then we're fucked," Illuso quickly added in just as Formaggios hands tightly locked around your throat. "Let go of her throat man, you're going too far." He felt Illusos hand on his shoulder, attempting to pull him back.

Just as he was about to let go, you said something that completely stunned him. "You drove your family to suicide," you gasped out, your voice hoarse. "You're a curse!"

The consequences were clear and laid out in front of him. If you died because of him, then his death would follow. Hell, even Illuso might end up dying. Killing you would be him outright betraying his entire team as well as the little bit of love he had for you. He did love you, in his own sick and twisted way, but he didn't have self-control right now. Not after what you just fucking said to him. Today.. all three of them were going to die and he didn't care. He wasn't afraid of death. Fuck this. Fuck everything. How dare you bring up his mom and sister.

"I LOVED MY MOM AND SISTER!" He screamed, beginning to squeeze as tightly as he could, watching the life drain from your eyes. Good. Die. "Die, die you fucking cunt! I hope you burn in fucking hell bitch!"

"Formaggio, no!" Illusos fist suddenly cracked into the side of Formaggios face, his nose immediately leaking blood as he let go of your throat, his nose making a weird popping sound. "She's my girlfriend too! You can't fucking kill her! Want us all to die!?"

"FUCK HER!" Formaggio snapped, quickly getting off at you, ignoring your low gasps for air. He grabbed his nose, giving your stomach a rough kick as he got up, a satisfied hum escaping his lips as you finally yelped in pain. "Look at you now.. pathetic as you were the last time I beat the fuck out of you!"

Temporarily, he let his anger turn towards Illuso. He raised his hand to punch Illuso, freezing when he felt your hands suddenly wrap around his ankles, weakly attempting to pull his leg back. What the fuck?! You should be crying in pain and begging for his mercy!

"P-pussy," you spat out, voice hoarse and weak. "I.. would have.. finished the job!"

Formaggio reached for his gun, Illuso grabbing his hand, stopping him from blowing your brains out. "Let's just fucking leave. She's supposed to be spending the night with me. We'll just leave her at the base. Fuck it," Illuso told him, keeping his eyes on him. "Please don't fucking kill her. Just chill man."

You let go of his ankle, your hand grasping the brick wall as you began to slowly rise to your feet, your face completely hidden from him. From a gap in your hair, he saw a dark bruise on your neck, a pool of blood surrounding you. "Just.. fuck off.. let me be.. alone," you whispered, slowly moving towards the door. "Both of you.. no more.. relationship. Break up forever." You were hardly making any sense, but he could get what you were trying to say.

"I didn't break up with you," Illuso snapped at you. "And I never will! You are my girl, and you are a Formaggios girl, whether you like it or not! Go be a good girl and clean yourself up and go lay the fuck down!"

"Scum," you spat at him, a sigh immediately escaping his lips as he reached past you, opening the base of the front door with one agressive twist and push. "Bitch."

"Go to bed," Illuso commanded, pointing inside of the base. "We love you. Don't you fucking forget that. Families fight but they stick together."

"Neither one of you are my family," you muttered, this coming out more clear as you shuffled into the house. "Dumb fucks."

The insults were pissing Formaggio off, making him want to attack, but he was holding his composition. You were too far for him to successfully be able to prick your finger and shrink you without Illuso striking, and maybe killing you was a bad idea. In so many ways, you provided them with love and comfort. That was something that he didn't want to let go of despite almost taking your life. Fuck.. he made a mistake.

"You're still my girl bitch," Formaggio called out, keeping his eyes on you as you vanished into the base. "And I'll be coming back here expecting an apology real soon! Straighten yourself out cunt, I can do what I want with you! I'll fuck you up while I fuck you! I could fuck you right now if I wanted too!"

"Don't threaten to rape her man," Illuso snapped, his eyes going wide. "Fuck, you need to take a break from her! Stop talking to her, and you shut the fuck up too Y/N!"

Formaggio assumed it was over until he heard your footsteps immediately running back, something immediately crashing into the side of his skull. "Goddamnit!" He screamed as he heard something shatter, his hand immediately raising to the side of his face. Blood leaked from the left side of his face, his eyes trailing down to a broken glass ashtray in front of him. No way. No goddamn way did you actually come back and throw something at him. He was stunned, completely stunned that you dared to throw something at him.

"How about I fuck you!?" You screamed, rushing towards him. "I'll fuck you up! Want me to rape you!? I'll do it, I'll be the one that ends you before you end me!"

Illuso launched at you before you could get to Formaggio, lifting you up. "Y/N, relax! Nobody is raping anyone, for fucks sake! Formaggio, just leave, I'm staying with her!" He dragged you into the base, slamming the door shut. "Hey, do not fucking hit me! Stop it right now Y/N, I'm in no mood to have a fist fight with you!"

Formaggio stood stunned, his eyes wide, actual tears filling his eyes as he realized that he made a big mistake. It didn't matter if Little Feet made no appearance. With his bare hands, he almost murdered you. If Illuso hadn't cracked him in the nose, then he probably would have killed you. Fuck. This was very bad.

The blood pouring from his head and nose indicated that he probably needed to go get looked at. The pain he felt throughout his entire body was sharp, a low ringing beginning form in his ears. Almost killing you should have broken you, but from the banging and yelling that he heard from Illuso inside indicated he might have awoken something very bad in you. This was too far. All you did was stalk them and pay some girls to compliment them. Why does he instantly lose his cool? He just couldn't help it. The fact that you still didn't love him and made him wear a condom to fuck you.. it really bothers him.

Going in there and helping Illuso with you would be a bad idea, considering that you were attempting to fucking attack him. Hopefully he could convince you to keep your mouth shut or come up with a good lie. Fuck, he needed to convince you to keep being his girl too. Thank God Melone and Ghiaccio were out of town for a few days, and Pesci didn't fucking intimidate him. You just could not tell Risotto. Now that he was starting to calm down this wasn't worth dying for, and he might just end up getting fucking killed for what he did to you.

[haggishlyhagging]

Anne Royall, a journalist, "was kicked around like a mangy cur" when she protested the cruel injustice of forcing erring women into either prostitution or starvation. And when in 1829 she accused the U.S. Congress of an "un-Christian" callousness toward the female sex, that august body, incredibly, sentenced her to be ducked in the Anacostia River as a "common scold."

Anne Royall had had the unique good fortune of having married a man who believed that wives should be allowed to inherit their husbands money; and when he died he left his wealth, as firmly as the law allowed, in his wife's control. In the few years it required the law to wrench it out of her hands and bestow it on her deceased husband's nearest male relative, Anne had made good use of it. She had traveled.

In her travels around the new, young United States, initially undertaken for pleasure, she was appalled at the conditions she found among "working" and "fallen" women. She wrote articles on her travels, burying in them, at first unnoticed by the editors who published them, facts about the shocking conditions in which the vast majority of laboring women and children were forced to work. The penny-an-hour slave-laborers in the sweat shops—all women and children—aroused her burning ire. But her reports on these abuses went unnoticed. The plight of "fallen" women who preferred starvation to prostitution was also reported in her articles, and still no one heeded.

After her money had been taken from her and she had been forced to give up her travels, she moved into a small cottage in Washington and there attempted to eke out a meager living with her pen. Despite her own poverty, she took "fallen" women into her home and shared with them what little she possessed. Then, at last, notice was taken. She was arrested for harboring disorderly persons!

"What did our Savior?" she asked in her defense; and the charges were dropped. But the experience did not silence her. She continued stubbornly to share her small home and her smaller means with the abandoned, homeless women and to write article after article in their behalf and in behalf of the slave-laborers in the sweat shops. Finally, utterly disillusioned by the stony harshness of the government and the law toward helpless women and children, she publicly abjured Christianity, citing as her reason that “the good Christians in power in Washington do not see any connection between their religion and the social conditions around them.”

For these and other unfeminine words, Anne was sentenced to a public ducking, and the Washington Navy Yard was ordered to prepare a ducking stool for her punishment. But at the last moment Congress relented. The woman was aging, she was no larger than a child, and she was "light as a feather." They feared the experience of being ducked in the chilly Anacostia River would kill her, and they did not want her death on their consciences. She was freed, but the terrifying experience had broken her spirit and for the remainder of her life she observed complete silence in the public press. The nation and the Congress soon forgot her, and for the rest of the nineteenth century she was unheard of. She has had a revival in the 1960's, however, and some of her books are back in print today.

-Elizabeth Gould Davis, The First Sex

[the-delightful-temptation]

//Valentino was the son of a Cartel boss. Very religious family who constantly beat him once they knew he was bisexual. He wanted to be an actor but his father forced him into the cartel business, and so he did, with promises that if he wasn’t useful and profiting he would be deserted.

He run the sex business, selling and buying prostitutes for his faction. But one day he was kidnapped by a rival of his father. Instead of saving him, his father allowed him to die. He got caught, so he no longer was useful.

One of the cartel ways to kill is to cut the eyes and tongue of the victim so they don’t snitch in the afterlife, this is why Valentino doesn’t see well and constantly drools, having a long and slithery tongue in his afterlife. 

[sherylleescreams]

Rewatching her scenes and… somehow Grace Zabriskie gives Sarah Palmer such intense “wish I had a son” resentful daughter mom vibes. Like Sarah’s jealous of Laura. And she’s afraid for her. And she’s uneasy. She blames Laura for what Sarah subconsciously (or consciously?) knows of Leland’s sexual abuse of Laura because to blame Laura moves the blame further away from Sarah (who chose to marry, have a kid with, and stay with Leland). She is already mourning Laura. How she boils that down is she wishes she had a son. She never says it but you can see it. Her distance from Laura. Her tense little spats with her over smoking or trivialities are the most they interact. It’s a studied distance. Sarah is always tense around her eyes and even moreso when she’s anywhere near Laura, who in turn has written off her mother as something like Leland’s talking furniture.

It’s insane.