#accusation de violence | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

spicyclover · 23 days

Text

No one can hurt you

Summary : A dinner of revelation and tragedy.

Hope you’ll enjoy it. Let me know in the comment section.

Thank you! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

DISCLAIMER : Rewrite and final version of "All the things you said" | Netflix show: One Day at the Time | Elena’s Story part | Season 3, ep 2. WARNING: mention of physical and verbal aggression! Su*c*de WARNING !R@PE! WARNING: mention of SU*C*DE WARNING TOUGH CONTENT, BE AWARE

DISCLAIMER: This story is fiction and has no correlation with reality. All site names making acts, violence or any other type of aggression are used for artistic purposes, and they did not commit those acts

If you need help. Please get help. You are loved, and your life is valued. Even if you don’t see it, you are loved.

The Monaco Grand Prix is in a few days and you will be slowly preparing for tonight’s dinner. Charles decided to organize a small evening for the pilots and their respective companions. It is in a magnificent hotel overlooking the sea that Charles booked the room and privatized the chef of the restaurant. The luxurious life of Monaco in its greatest fullness, you are always amazed by all the secrets that this small principality shelters.

You were third-wheeling your best friend Heidi to that party. She and Daniel invited you after running into you in the afternoon at the marina. Since you were little you know most of the pilots. So you are happy to have been invited to celebrate this new year of racing in Monaco with them. The evening was going well until the subject of the conversation crumbled into something darker.

“I gotta admit, I’m getting kind of confused.” Ends up saying, Checo rubbing his nose with his glass.

“Oh, my god, me too. What if someone says, “I am not sleeping with you tonight?” And then... an hour later, they’re like, “Eh, fine.” What’s that?” Ask Lando, completely confused.

“Unsurprising,” Pierre whispers under his breath, laughing. You laugh at with him, ignoring Lando's thunder.

“How many women have said, “Eh, fine”?” Questions Heidi sarcastically.

“Yeah, I got to make some calls.”

“Now I’m perplexed.” Says Max trying to make sense of everything he heard.

“I know. It’s confusing. I hate to admit it, but I feel sorry for men. This consent thing is tricky.” Kelly responded and gets up to pour herself more wine.

“No.” You exclaim annoyed by her comment. “Women always blame themselves, and then the man never has to take responsibility. During rape prevention week at the university, all the signs are aimed at women. “Girls, don’t dress provocatively. Girls, don’t walk alone.” How about, “Hey, guys, don’t rape.”" You look up at Pierre knowing perfectly it will trigger him.

“Oh, my god, why are we talking about that? I took a couple pictures as a joke, and Cece thought it was funny.” Pierre exclaims as he gets up from his chair to get himself another beer at the bar.

“Did she? Or did she feel like she had to laugh ‘cause she doesn’t know what else to do with your hand on her boob?” Everyone around the table falls silent and waits. You get up from your chair and walk you way to Pierre.

“Ok, sweetie, take it easy.” Adds Sebastian taking your arm and tries to calm the conversation.

“No. He thinks what he did is cute. You are basically a predator.” You accuse, pointing your finger at him.

“You’re basically a psycho.” Pierre replies, knowing full well it will trigger you.

“Good, call me crazy for defending a woman’s right not to be groped!”

“You’re mad ‘cause the internet told you to be. You don’t know my life or even leave this apartment!” Pierre screams as he approaches you.

“Because of guys like you!” You answer with the same intonation.

“What are you talking about?” Charles asks, taking your hand for you to sit down.

You and Charles are special. You’ve been like ass and shirt since childhood. You’ve known him since you were six. For as long as you can remember, Charles has always been one of your dearest childhood friends. You have shared so much together. No one has ever made you vibrate like he does. Usually his simple touch makes you calmer and reassuring. But you are no longer able to appreciate this contact that you cherish so much.

“You want to know?” You said, scoffing. “Okay. A couple of weeks ago, Heidi and I were coming home from the movies, and we were holding hands. And we noticed these guys staring at us, and then we changed the sidewalks , and they followed us.” You speak with tears in your eyes.

“What?” Sebastian says concerned in his voice. His turn your body to him.

“Yes. And they were going, “Come one, you guys, kiss. We really wanna see it. Just kiss.” They thought that was really funny, too.” You continue telling while drinking a sip of your glass.

“It was actually terrifying.” Ends up adding Heidi after Daniel stares at her intently.

“It was terrifying. And then we finally lost them in a crowd and ran home...” You finish in a huff trying to hold back your tears. Your hand hides your eyes and you try at best to find your calm.

Charles, in his divine goodness, hastens to extinguish you warmly. At first, his touch hurts you and you have only one desire to remove his hands from your dirty body. Yet you cling to him like a lifeline. Deep down, you know it's time. Time to tell what happened that night, a year ago. Nobody dares to speak at your revelation and everyone feels guilty for not knowing sooner.

“Umm... Last year after the Monaco Grand Prix. Lance Stroll raped me. He was my friend, and he raped me in my own bedroom. And then, he threatened me not to tell anyone... but. Why did he do this?” You ask breaking down in tears. “Sorry, I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what... I feel.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Sebastian asks tenderly, approaching you rubbing his hand on your back.

“I tried, but... nobody listened to me.” You respond looking at Lando through your tears. Your eyes pierce Lando’s being. He doesn’t know where to put himself and his cheeks become red. He implores you to keep your mouth shut, but the situation no longer belongs to you. You feel the body of Charles being redeemed against yours and you notice that he followed your gaze.

“You knew.” He accuses Lando turning his attention abruptly towards him.

“I... I.” He tries to defend himself. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“Oh, you think she knew what to do either.” He yells, getting up from his chair and grabbing him by the collar.

“Charles, let him go!” Orders Carlos.

“You let her suffer silently when you knew what he did to her. I thought you were better than this. T’es qu’une grosse merde.” You’re a piece of shit

“Oh please, like you would have done something? We all know he’s untouchable and has done it before.” Admitted Lando, pushing Charles away.

“What?” Sebastian speaks up. This is the first time he has heard this from his former teammate. He never thought he would ever see Lance in this light.

“Nothing.”

“It’s nothing? He raped her, and now other girls too?” Charles advances again, preventing him from fleeing the situation.

“Don't play fouls, Charles. You were in his hotel room at the party in Abu Dhabi last year, and I quite remember your hands on some teenage girls, groping them.” He said suddenly, pushing Charles out of his way again.

“What?” You speak up, troubled by Lando's affirmation.

“It’s not what it looks like.” Charles turns to you, trying to explain himself. You get up from your chair and walk back as you see him approach.

“Don’t touch me.” You say, pushing him away. “Did you do it?”

“I... It’s not the same thing.” He justified himself.

“Yes. It actually is. Did you grope those teenage girls or worse raped them?” You ask scandalized. Charles, your best friend, your confidant, the one you most trust is capable of the same thing as the person who hurt you the most.

“Oui,” he admits in a small voice. “I didn’t want to.”

“You didn’t want to? What the fuck, Charles. What's wrong with you all?” You yell, taking your stuff and leaving as fast as possible.

The thought of all this happening to so many more makes you sick. How could nobody speak up about this? You walk down the hotel hallway. You can hear footsteps and Charles's voice telling you to come back. When you get to the lobby, you ask for a taxi home. Tears fall down your cheeks, and you look at him as you push the door out.

You take your taxi and give him your address. All you want right now is a shower. A warm and reassuring shower. To pull away all those memories and thoughts. You want to scream to the world. You want to smash your entire apartment down. You want to stay in bed for the rest of your life. You want to jump off the roof. You want to cut yourself so that the pain stops. You want to be set free.

You arrive at the complex. Your dark thought runs in circles in your head. Like a robot, you open the door, press the elevator, and finally unlock your apartment. You let your essentials fall on the ground with your bag and coat. Like a machine, you take your shoes off and open the lights.

The sight of your home, which does not feel like home anymore. Since Lance pushes himself into you while you try to make him go away, this place hasn’t felt like home. You can’t even sleep in your own bed anymore. No matter how many times you clean the sheets, change the bed. This memory comes running back into your mind. Invade you like a parasite.

You go to the bathroom and open the valve to fill the bathtub. You watch the water. You can hear your phone blowing up with notifications and calls. “Why does this world have to be this cruel?” You think, taking your clothes off.

Your body envelops itself in the heat of the water, and you close your eyes. Your body slips in the bath. You head underwater. You hear focusing on your heart bit. You enjoy this moment of quietness and solitude.

That’s it. You feel alone since that night he took your joy, your life, yourself.

You can feel the water pressure you to gasp for air. Your head starts popping your blood. Your heart rises to find oxygen. You struggle. You have been struggling this long. You want to go, and you want to let go.

You let the water go in, and suddenly, all the scary parts disappear. The explosion in your head fades away, and you’re not scared anymore. You find it relatively peaceful. Very peaceful.

Strangely, you’re dreaming. Him with you. On a boat. Feeling the breeze in your hair. The warm sun on your skin. His light touches on your thigh. His breath on your neck. His lips are on your breast. You’re daydreaming. Are you? Is your mind trying to ease the pain in your heart? Is it even the day?

Then. You open your eyes. You try to scream, but your head is under the water. You feel weak but strong. Sick but healthy. Chaos but at peace. You can feel your body wiggling, but your mind is different. No one can hurt you now. Quietly, your eyelids become heavy again, and what a moment ago hurt you the most now makes you feel good.

The water fills your lungs, and you sink more and more into the darkness. Nobody seems to pull you up. The seconds pass, but you no longer find the courage to go out. The bathtub disappears, and you find yourself in the sea. In a warm and welcoming sea; The Mediterranean. An infinity of blue. An infinity of sweetness. The noises are only deaf sounds, and you feel your brain more and more calm. The sun’s rays pass through the water, and you move further and further away from it. Your eyelids become more and more stretched.

Then you see beautiful blue eyes through the water. No fair. You can’t reach them but can’t stop staring at those ocean-blue eyes. Suddenly, you feel scared. Scared to leave those ocean eyes. You’re afraid, and you’re drowning under the waves of words you haven’t said to them, to you.

You try to fight back this peaceful state, but darkness is an easier path than light. Suddenly the silence suffocates you, and you miss the sound surrounding you.

Then comes the darkness.

When you leave the apartment, Sebastian watches Charles running after you. He can’t believe what has happened. He doesn’t want to consider it. How could he? He sees and goes to the door, and Charles is defeated on the ground. He passes by without a look and walk his way to the lobby.

You have always been a fragile child. Even when you were a child. You were always this little fragile and precious porcelain doll. You’ve never been afraid of anything growing up. Sebastian always loved to see you grow up with him. Despite your age difference, he always considered you his little sister. The little one who needs to be protected from everything and at any cost. Knowing that you are suffering so much hurts him.

In the hallway, the walk seems long and endless, his thoughts wandering toward your shared memories. He remembers many summers spent in the countryside. At your grandparents' meadow, there was a vast field with a few horses grazing on the fresh grass. He remembers that beautiful-eyed little girl running in his direction.

You had dirt all over your clothes. Your hair was braided, and he still remembers the grass sticking in it. He remembers your laughter, which lit up the prairie thousands of miles away. Hearing you laugh has always been his favourite thing about you. Lost, it’s only when the doors block his way out that he remembers he has to go looking for you. He runs through the night towards your apartment.

Charles is devastated. Everything he tried to build with you has just broken in a moment. He feels lonely and ashamed. He wants you to know how much he loves you. How much you mean to him. How much you have become the center of his universe.

Before you, there was racing, and that was it. When you became something more his life change. It was as if you had lit the dormant fire in him. You have extinguished the flame since the death of his best companion, his father. You have given meaning to this quest. The stakes are not won but won for you.

He still remembers the first time he took you to his garage. You were with Sebastian. He was showing you around the Ferrari factory, showing you the different facilities, different parts. You were so captivated by his words, and your eyes were shining like stars in the sky.

He remembers the moment when your eyes landed on him. The smile you had, and the dress you wore and the clip in your hair. He counts you. Unable to say anything. Captivated by your beauty.

“Hi, Charlie.” You said in your beautiful voice.

He stuttered and blushed heavily. You laughed gently before putting your lips on each of his cheeks. He likes a kiss, and no, he likes your kisses.

A hand falls on his shoulder, and he sees Pierre. Tears in his eyes prevent him from distinguishing himself perfectly, but he recognizes his friend.

“Don’t worry. She’ll come back.” He says softly. Taking him by the shoulders to lift him up and bring him back to the room.

The others are still there. Confused and shaken, no one speaks. Silence reigns in the room, and no one knows what to say. Charles opens the patio door and leaves the fresh night air in the room. The city slowly began to calm down, and he heard the waves regularly hitting the harbour.

Daniel gets up and gets rid of the table. Putting this party away may make us forget the events that occurred. Heidi and Kelly help him while the others put orders in the room. No one dares to go to see Charles.

The hour passes quickly, and some decide to leave. They quickly greet the last remaining. Pierre observes his friend, who has not moved, and still looks at the sea.

It’s only when Charles' phone starts ringing that he looks away. He calmly enters the room and answers.

“Hello?”

You always liked the fields. You always loved hiding in the big wheat fields surrounding your grandparents' house when you were little. This stretch of yellow was as far as the eye could see. You liked feeling the stems between your fingers, the seeds melting to your touch, and the particular smell of wheat.

You remember a hot summer day. Lying on a tablecloth after a picnic, nature calms by this overwhelming heat, especially the calm of this yellow and green nature. You remember the farmer who held the farm. You spent days watching him working. Helping him through the mould. Watching him turn wheat powder into cereal. You remember this great man, always with a grain of wheat in his mouth that was constantly chewing.

You remember the hum that bees made at work. From wheat to wheat, pollen is harvested. You remember the nests in the hives that you created one summer. Your grandfather, with his jumpsuit, would go every morning and inspect the nests, and you loved watching him do it. You also loved to taste honey with each harvest. Honey is good. It’s sweet. It’s sweet. It’s wild.

You remember Sebastian. His blond hair, his smile, the sound of his kart engine. Many hours passed in his company at the track with his dad. You remember your big brother, following him and Sebastian all day long, like the annoying little sister you were. You remember falling from a tree after the boys thought it was a great idea to climb it. You see your brother jumping down the tree to get to you and hear Sebastian running back to the house to get help. You spent the night at the hospital. You broke your arms that summer, and you had a commotion. Your parents were furious and punished your brother for the rest of the vacation.

You remember your first winter in the mountains. Mornings skiing, and afternoons making snowmen, eating maple syrup, drinking hot chocolate, just playing in the snow. See your happy brother’s face after he managed to get the last pancake.

You remember Sebastian’s victories. To see him move up from category to category. You remember his encounter with Hanna. You love Hanna. She is so sweet and kind. You remember your great jealousy towards her from the height of your twelve years. She who steals your Sebastian. She who steals your second brother. Oh yes, you were jealous, but she knew how to win your heart, and after all, she stayed.

You remember the Ferrari years. Everyone was in red. You saw the world with red glasses. Red like love. Red like anger. Red as the colour. Red as blood. It’s kind of at this time, when adolescence really starts that you start to change. Physically, mentally, and spiritually, you were no longer the wise little girl your parents admired and your brother despised. No, you grew up making mistakes, a lot of mistakes, until you met him.

Him. The golden boy. The one destined to be great.

You remember his perfume, his smell, his laughter, his mimics, his way of speaking, his way of being and his way of simply being. He intimidated you so much; this guy was destined for something big. Whereas you, we never expected much from you besides being pretty, lovely, not disturbing, quiet, and reserved.

Quiet.

Reserved.

Pretty.

In those words, your brain falls into the dark side of your life. The darkened side of time. Painful and unhappy memories. The memories of him, the one who once was your best friend. He who once was your confidant. He who once saw fit to r*pe you.

To find you after the Grand Prix, in your apartment, in your house, in your home. To be a little too drunk, surely. To hold you firmly. To put his lips on yours. To hold your wrists. To put all his weight on your body. To force you into bed. To beg him to stop. To cry in silence. To feel it in you. To feel dirty. To feel unloved.

To feel alone, so lonely, too lonely.

To find yourself curled up in a ball in a corner. To wait until morning for him to leave. To want to end your life. To end your nights. To seek help. To be abandoned. To be alone. To be dirty. To be silent. To be reserved. To be pretty.

To be pretty.

To be.

Silent is all you ask for.

It’s been a long night. The hours have been staggering. The noises of monitors, nurses, doctors, and ambulances invade their ears. No one speaks, and no one dares speak. It is as if a white veil covers the weighing atmosphere and borrows all those present.

The wait is long, too long. They wait patiently for the outcome of this atrocious night, something that does not happen. Sebastian holds his head in his hands, tears have finished flowing, but his eyes are still red. He feels bad. He feels immense guilt. This mixture of shame, sadness, contempt and anger is eating him increasingly as the hours pass and pass before his eyes. He blames himself for not coming sooner. He blames himself for not holding you back. He blames himself for not seeing. He blames himself.

Full of life and ardour, this little girl was smothered under this icy water. Frozen in time. Only the repetitive sound of drops escaping from the pipe disrupted this freezing scene. She hides all her problems behind her smile. Never in his life has he thought of having this vision of you. This pure horror vision of an act yet so courageous. Because it takes courage to think about yourself before thinking about others. It takes courage to put yourself forward and not others. It takes courage to achieve what others have likely failed to achieve.

The roar of the machines stifled Charles. He closed his ears in the hope of silencing them. To see you with your tubes hanging around you, in you. On this hospital bed, this white bed, this room that feels the end. Eyes wet, Charles looks at your pale, serene face. The doctor’s words are dry and not encouraging. Your parents arrive a few hours later, a flight later. They cry. Your brother has tears in his eyes. Sebastian collapses in a corner. Hanna is there; a veil of sadness covers his eyes. Heidi cries in the arms of Daniel, who looks again in the eyes of Charles. Charles holds your hand, your hand. Your hands are cold, frozen by the consequences. Lando doesn’t dare to come in. He feels guilty because he refused to believe you, to reach out to you, see you, and see your distress. He preferred to become blind rather than awake. It haunts him.

Charles, sitting next to you, is watching people walk by. To say goodbye to you, goodbye, forever. He doesn’t want to. He can’t. You’re still breathing. Your heart is still beating. So why do you have to leave? Why did you choose to go?

“Why?” He mumbles one more time, his head against your ear. “Why are you not fighting?”

“Cha... we have to go.”

“No... I-I-I can’t. I can’t leave her.” His voice breaks in a sob.

“Charles,” Pierre says, putting a comforting arm on his shoulder. “Let her go.”

“No...” Charles pushes him away, gripping your hand tighter. “She’s going to survive. She’s going to live. She has to live. You have to live.” He prays, kissing your cold skin.

Pierre sight and get out of the room. His family, her family, his friends, and her friends are here waiting for him. The visiting hours are almost over. Everyone wants to go back to their house and sleep a bit. They haven’t slept all night. Charles hasn’t slept all night. Pascale enters the room quietly. Staring at his son.

“Charles. We need to let her rest. Will come back in the morning, d’accord mon bébé?” She says, taking him in her arm.

He acquires at her request despite himself. Unable to fight anymore, fatigue slowly eats him away, and he knows that he is of no help if he is exhausted. He leaves the room not without a last kiss, a last look, a last goodbye.

On the following day, Charles came. Staying for hours next to you. Stroking your hair, mumbling your name, praying for you to wake up. He can't take you out of his brain. He can't take you out of him. You're haunting him. We realize how important it is in our life when we lose someone we take for granted. Charles looks at you as a friend until he realizes he loves you. Is it too late? Were you supposed to be?

Sebastian came a few times, only a few minutes. He can't unseen what he saw. He plays and plays the night in his head over and over again. Wondering what he could have done differently.

The doctors are not really optimistic about your recovery. Your body is tired. Your mind is exhausted. They did all they could do. All we have to do is wait. Wait for you to come back. Wait for you to fight for your life. How could you fight if you're not even awake? It's painful.

Strangely enough, he came. The rapist. The abomination of your life. You came late at night when everyone left. He felt bad. "It's too late to feel bad," you think when you feel his hand and you. You wanted to cry, to scream, but nothing. He left shortly after. Looking at you one last time. Looking at what he did to you. You hear from Lando a few days later that he got arrested. Other girls spoke, and there were enough accusations to start a trial. Even more strange, it did nothing to you. Well, how could you feel? When he toked everything you got and smashed it in a million pieces?

Sometimes, you can feel the warmth of the afterlife tingling your skin. You feel it right near you, calling you. Calling you to answer the call. You want to feel this feeling of peace, this quietness. You don't know how to feel. You just want to float. You forgot how to be happy. How to be. Why fight if you may never find yourself again? What were you made for? You wonder to yourself.

Time flies. A couple of weeks passed. You made some improvements for the doctors to feel optimistic for you to wake up eventually. You're stabilized by all those machines. Your parent finally arrived a few days after you were admitted. You can feel your mother's tears on your cold hands and the soft kisses of your father on your forehead. You can smell the sunflower Heidi brought you every time she comes to see you. Sometimes you want to react. To show her you listen. But you can't. Or you don't want?

The feeling of loneliness passed. You can see now how much you're loved. How they love you. You love to hear Arthur talking about your favourite series. You love to hear Sebastian remembering childhood moments whenever he found the courage to come. You love to listen to your mom singing your favourite songs. You love to hear Daniel telling dad jokes, hoping you'll smile in your sleep. You love hearing Lando talking about his latest Quadrant adventures or Twitch lives. You love to listen to Charles saying how much he loves you. How much his life is plain without you. You can't imagine somebody else cared so much about you.

That makes you cry. You can't show them you can hear. You can't show them you love them too. You can't show them how grateful you are or will be. More time passed, and the more you could slowly feel you were losing yourself. All you need to do is happen your eyes, but for some reason, it seems an impossible task to do.

"This is impossible," Alices says in disbelief at the creature rising upon her.

"Only if you believe it is." The hatter whispers, scared of the outcome of all this adventure. But wasn't this all the point of this madness?

"Sometimes, I believe as many as six impossible things before breakfast."

"That is an excellent practice." The hatters says. "However, just now, you might want to focus on the Jabberwocky."

"Six impossible things. Count them, Alice. One, there's a potion that can make you shrink. Two, and a cake that can make you grow. Three, animals can talk. Four, Alice, cats can disappear. Five, there's a place called Wonderland. Six, I can slay the Jabberwocky."

You feel yourself falling into the rabbit hole, and you have been in Wonderland all this time. That's it! You can do it. Six impossible things before breakfast.

"One, you will get a major in architecture."

"Two, you can drive an F1 car."

"Three, you can be happy again."

"Four, Y/n, there's a place for you in this universe."

"Six, I will fight for my life."

At this, though, he feels darkness rising upon you. Everything fades away slowly. You can hear the constant beep of the machines around you. You can feel Charles's hands against yours. You can smell the hospital room you're in. You can see the light shutters again you close your eyes.

Then... you breathe.

Feeling the grass on your feet. The autumn breeze cools down your spine. For the first time, you appreciate being alive. To fill your lungs with air, to hear the water crash against the rocks, to feel the sun warm up your skin, and to taste food again.

You feel a hand around your waist, and Charles brings you closer to him. He sticks you to his bare chest. He holds you firmly for fear that you will disappear again. It makes you smile to see him so loving, so gentle, and so attentive. You turn your gaze from the blue horizon to meet his emerald eyes. He smiles tenderly. His eyes sparkle with a thousand lights when you return his smile. You hold these eyes a few moments before you look wandering towards his lips.

If only it could be true.

If only you could be with him.

______________________________________________________________

Hi! Hope you enjoy this final version of the story. It took me sometimes to get back to writing but I'm getting there. I know some of you really like it and it's fill my heart with joy <3

Tag List : tyna-19 dessxoxsworld ynbutbetter alexander-hamilhoe honethatty12 janeholt3 mloyer karmabyfernando omgsuperstarg laura-naruto-fan1998

#Charles Leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #f1 #charles #charles leclerc sad #charles leclerc x you

44 notes · View notes

mistypsych · 11 months

Text

ANATOMY OF A CRIMINAL - CHAPTER 5

/ yoongi / suga / agust d /

summary: as a doctor you never expected to be dragged into “the criminal life”, nothing and no one seems to be true anymore, your whole world turns upside down after you save him.

pairings: yoongi mob boss x f.reader x non idol bts members.

warnings: smut, guns, knives, stabbings, blood, gore, murders, drugs, criminals, gang life, medical emergency, illness, abuse, swearing, angst, dubcon, gang violence, corruption, manipulation, lies, cheating - 18+ minors dni.

Note: Hi! This is an attempt of writing a fanfic long after not writing anything at all. Please also keep in mind English is no longer my first language and it might be a bit rusty and odd at times but I try my best. As promised we are reaching the chapter where Suga will be taking the lead! Comments and thoughts are well appreciated. Don’t hesitate to ask questions, state your thoughts for me to post up and have me add you to the tag list!

The quiet “What?” echoed mercilessly over the walls of the small hallway. The only other sound to be heard, were your deep breaths. His was full of panic, while yours was coated with anger, that you have kept pent up inside these past days. This was not the best moment to start such a difficult discussion, but something snapped from within and you were ready for war.

Staring him straight in the eyes you worded out slowly “I WAS WITH YOUR FRIEND AGUST-D”. He just continued to stand there with a face full of disbelief. You could see his body stiffen as he was clearly thinking of what to say, but you decided that pause there was enough. Pushing threw him you stormed down to the kitchen, throwing your bag on the floor. Silence meant he was trying to come up with a lie, right? You didn’t know what to think anymore. Everything was getting out of hand. The life built on all the years of hardship, studies and sacrifices, seemed to be flying out of your grasp.

You felt your heartbeat all the way to your throat. Your muscles started to tremble and your legs threatened to give in. Were you really about to lose all you worked so hard on? Everything you knew and thought was so important seemed to all go down the drain. Tears were welling up your eyes. Your breath got erratic and your chest uncomfortably tight.

With a shaky hand your grabbed a glass of water, downing it in one go. Anxiety was starting to overflow your whole body. This was all really happening. Life as you knew it was being eaten up by flames and you were petrified of finding out, what would be left in the scorched remains. Was there any hope? Was there a chance of surviving this?

Suddenly you felt arms tightly wrap around your waist and Hoseok’s chin on your shoulder. You struggled to rip away from his embrace but he easily out powered you. “Let go of me! I don’t even know who the hell you are!” you yelled helplessly. Tears rolled down your cheeks, but he still wouldn’t let you go. Instead he quietly shushed you, tightening his grip and begged you to calm down.

“Y/N I don’t know what you think you found out but trust me I can explain…” he said in a soft tone. He pressed against you closely and hummed into your ear trying to end your fit. Once he felt your body loosen up, he turned you to face him, grabbing your face in his hand. You made the mistake to look at him. His eyes were full of concern and pain.

“Y/N please don’t cry. Just let me explain.” A sigh escaped his lips as he wiped the falling tears with his thumbs. You were so tired, you didn’t want this, you didn’t want to fight, you didn’t want your life to crumble into pieces. Noticing you cooled off your nerves a little bit, he lifted your chin to look at you „What is it your are accusing me of exactly Y/N? And how do you know Agust-D?” he asked calmly.

Your whole body shook. This was really happening. Things were going down and there was no backing out now, you already put this all in motion. “That you’re a dirty cop… that he pulls the strings at the police department… as for how I know him it doesn’t matter. What matters is I found out about your ties with him Hoba… and that you lied”.

He stroke your cheek gently and shook his head. “I would think you knew me well by now Y/N. I am your fiancé for fuck sake… not some bum you just met… and when did I lie to you exactly hm? That I didn’t tell you one of my jobs is to work undercover? That we have a whole team working quietly trying to find out who actually is putting their hands in the cookie jar? I can’t speak much of these things Y/N! Same as you have your confidentiality with patients…”

The words that rolled off his tongue, smacked you out of your despair. You looked at him stunned, blinking the tears away. How did this not cross you mind? How did you not think that maybe there was something more behind this? That he could have been working? Why did you go straight into believing he was scum? You felt guilt crawl threw your soul. What were your thinking? Or more like - Why were you not thinking at all?

You looked at him, your bottom lip hanging down. You could feel like your whole brain was being rebooted. “I… I mean… they said… that…”. Hoseok tilted his head slightly, still holding your face in the palm of his hands. There was no anger in his gaze, just worry, confusion and a bit of sadness. “Who said what Y/N?” he asked patiently, waiting for you to finally explain your outburst.

“I… umm… the whole Agust-D thing… Jungkook he… he got mixed in with him… he saw you around his business…” you stuttered out, trying to collect your thoughts. You still could not shake off a very odd feeling. But why? It all made sense, of course Hobi was working. He was one of the best detectives. It wouldn’t be strange for him to be part of the team on such a case.

“Kook? What does he have to do with those people even? Is he taking?” you shook your head quickly in response “No, god no… It is more complicated then that, but it’s not my story to tell… I just knew about the gang and the whole situation from him…” you lied a bit. You didn’t know why but something in you was telling you not to put yourself out there. To keep in the fact that somehow, you got entangled with those criminals as well.

Hoseok gave you a slight stare, that showed he wasn’t satisfied with your evasive answer regarding your friends involvement. Luckily he seemed more worried about opening a whole new can of worms with you. Seeing you calmed down, had him decide poking at the subject wasn’t worth it. In the end he didn’t really give a fuck about your co worker. All that mattered was that you retreated from the battle.

“So… now that you calmed down… care to explain the - I was with your ‘friend Agust-D’?” Shit he remembered your words. Before you could stop yourself you simply lied threw your teeth “I was just throwing bullshit… I was with Kookie… he told me about the police… you and this gang and that Agust-D, whoever he is… so I decided the best line of attack was to throw shit at you… you know… get a reaction…” he sighed loudly clearly buying what you were selling. Never would you think you’d make such a good liar.

Question was why was your brain reacting this way? Hiding stuff from your partner? You didn’t really understand but the truth was, at this moment you didn’t want to answer those questions. You were tired, stressed and confused even more than before, so you decided to keep some cards to yourself. Your instincts rarely failed you and something was telling you there was more to the whole story. So you had to wait. Wait it all out, until you were absolutely sure about what you’re dealing with.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Warm beams of sunlight slowly crawled up to your face. Last night you and Hobi both decided to sleep off the whole argument and agreed if one or the other had any doubts or wanted to add something to the topic, you’d simply talk it threw again. As for now it would seem no one was in a rush to continue digging into the gang subject.

You smoothed your face with your hands slowly and squinted your eyes. Hoseok was nowhere to be found. A small note rested on his pillow. You skeptically grabbed the piece of paper in your fingers - “I will be back late today. No need to wait up for me. Love H.” You grimaced after reading the words. Somehow even when yesterday, he gave you a logic and what seemed like sincere explanation about his involvement, you still felt like something rubbed you the wrong way.

But then again you couldn’t be throwing away all the years of your relationship on a whim. There was the possibility that after all what happened with your best friend and how he dragged you into all this shit in the first place, you were just sceptic about everything. Keeping that in mind you decided to give yourself more time and try to trust Hobi, after all you had history together and it seemed only fair to both of you.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

On your lunch break you decided to go out and eat with Jungkook. You wanted to question him about the whole “dirty cop” situation. If Hoseok was doing work of course he would play into the whole game to get the gangs trust. You felt the need to talk with your friend about it, since he was also involved in all of this. You wanted Kook to know Hobi was just doing his job. Or was it simply the fact of you wanting to believe that was the case?

Once you sat down and the waitress brought your drink, you looked at the tattooed brunet and sighed slightly stirring your glass “I confronted Hoseok…” you blurted out quietly. Your coworker coughed slightly and ran a hand threw his thick locks. Narrowing his brows he let out a “Oh…?” and waited for you to continue.

“Yea… he looked a bit shook at first as to how I even heard of this Agust-D… later he asked… I kind of twisted the facts and had him believe I never actually met the guy… but anyhow…” you took a sip of your iced yuzu tea and shot a short glance towards your friend who was waiting quietly. “He said he was doing undercover…” you finally let out the info.

Kook straightened himself in his chair and loudly let out a breath threw his nose, as if calming himself. He arched a brow looking at you in an analyzing manner. He was trying to figure you out. What were you thinking? Did you believe your fiancé? After a while he slightly shook his head and said “And you believe him?” his tone sounded slightly worried and annoyed.

You lowered your head and looked at the tips of your fingers. Should you be honest? Should you tell him how your feel deep down? He did drag you into this mess but he was honest about what his involvement was in the end. Also he did warn you about all the police. Playing with a loc of you hair you sighed “Honestly…? I do want to believe him… I mean it’s Hoba. We are together for years… for fuck sake we live together and he is my fiancé so of course part of me believes him… wants to believe him…”

You friend kept his gaze on you. He gave you a second to collect your thoughts and then in a quiet voice asked “But the other part?”. Looking straight forward, you bit your lip and whispered “Has a feeling that he is lying threw his teeth to save ass…”. Kook straightened himself making the chair squeak against the floor. He once again screened over you with his big eyes and then nodded “It’s understandable you want to believe best about someone you love… but if you also have doubts usually that is sign Y/N. To be frank… when I saw him around it never crossed my mind he was ‘working’ and well… I think our intuition usually gives us a correct view on things…” he sighed deeply and put his hand gently on yours.

You looked at his tattooed fingers trying to avoid his eyes. All this was too emotional. You wanted to believe - no, for now you believed in Hoseok’s version but also deep down something was chipping away at your heart. Your chest was getting tight and you could feel the stress flood over your body. Jungkook’s gentle squeeze brought you back to reality.

“Y/N for what it’s worth… I really hope you and I are just being overly suspicious and that your Jung is simply doing his job. As hard as it might be, best to not overthink it for now… let the situation play itself out. Truth will come to the surface, no matter what…” you smiled gently at those words. Doubts you had about talking to him were long gone. It was clear how much you needed to have someone in your circle. Someone who was also in this hellish loop with you.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

The week flew by quickly. You took your friends advice to heart and tried not to overthink things. It was going quite well due to the fact you barely got to see Hoseok. He was having a busy time at work and so were you.

When Friday evening came you thought you would see more of your fiancé, but coming back to your apartment all you saw was again a note stating he is gonna be back late but that he would make it up to you tomorrow. You sighed a bit, and rubbed your neck. A wave of anxiety creeping up your spine. You could not shake off a weird feeling, that something was not right. Trying not to overthink it, you decided to cook something and watch a movie.

You were pouring yourself a next glass of wine while looking at the screen of your tv, when your heard you cellphone ring. Walking up to it you saw “Kookie” as the caller ID. Your brows arched up in surprise. It was already quite late. What could he want? Did something happen. “Kook? What’s up?” you answered in a bit surprised tone. A sigh on the other end greeted you and that was the moment you knew something had to be off.

“Y/N… turn to video call ok? But don’t freak out… and best sit down…” his voice was a bit shaken and he sounded nervous. You switched to video and what you saw on the screen left you dumbfounded. It was your fiancé talking up some girl, or more like clearly flirting. You could see Jungkook had to be standing in some corner, not wanting to be caught out from the crowd. Once looking around the people that were visible to your eyes, you could see a couple of figures you recognized. There was Joon, Tae and Jimin. They were close by Hoseok and some other officers you knew he worked with.

Blood rushed to your cheeks and then hit back down your body, leaving you pale as a wall. Your muscles started to shake as you felt rage well up within you. This was the “job” he was tending to? Your friend kept quiet on the other side. You let out a breath, you were holding for quite a while - he is just flirting maybe it does have to do something with work? As you were about to try and calm yourself down, you saw the girl run her hand down your fiancés back. He was laughing and giving her his charming smile. Then you saw her whisper something to his ear that made him smile even wider and wrap his hand around her waist.

You felt the veins in your brain pulse, your head was about to explode. Was he really doing this? The answer to that came fast. Saying something to the other men he walked away with the lady. There was no doubt about the intentions, just looking at the body language itself was enough of a tell. For a moment you could not make a sound. You were seeing red and about to scream for bloody murder. “Y/N… I’m so sorry…” you heard Jungkook say and switch off the video. Putting the phone to your ear you rasped “Send me the bar name… I’ll come there…” you shot out angry “He left…” you cut your friend off with a “And? I am not coming there for him Kook. I need a drink…”

Once you received the address you took a cab and walked into the loud, crowded club. Kook was waiting at the bar as he said. Next to him were already the three gang members. You took a deep breath seeing you friend shoot you an apologetic gaze, clearly not being too thrilled by who had joined him.

You on the other hand got an idea. You remembered Taehyungs comments about you being a hottie. As enraged as you were your mind spun to some wild places. You were not going to blow up Hobi’s phone, calling him out on what he did, telling him you know. No, you were so fed up with his now very clear lies, that you stopped to think reasonably. You were pissed, planning to get shitfaced and go home with some guy. Have fun without any strings attached. Tae seemed like a good choice, cocky, sure of himself and good looking. Hitting on him shouldn’t be too challenging for you.

Once you made way to the bar, Jungkook was already holding a drink for you in his hand. As you started to down the colorful liquid you felt eyes on you. “Wow doc… you seem thirsty?” a smooth and low voice came from behind you. Turning, you saw the tall handsome man you were just thinking about. “Oh you have no idea…” you say, your voice turning sultry, what earned you an arched brow from your friend and a crook smile from Tae.

Looking you up and down, he sat on the stool next to you, taking a sip of his whiskey “Any way I can help with the issue?” Jungkook was about to tell him off but you spoke before him “Actually… I think you just might have the solution”. Your coworker almost let out a shocked gasp, eyeing you if you were serious about your intentions. Once he understood that a line had been crossed with you, and this was some sort of petty revenge from your side and a way to let loose he only nodded his head, making clear he was not about to judge your choices.

Two cocktails later, you found yourself on the dance floor, swaying your body against the tall brunette. Things were slowing getting heated as he twirled you around and hugged your waist. His hard on, pressing against your ass. “Well I guess I can say today I am one lucky bastard…” he whispered into your ear while nibbling at your neck gently. As you closed your eyes with a slight hum and were about to answer, you felt a tight grip on your wrist pulling you from Tae’s grasp.

Your eyes shot open as your body slammed against someone. Looking up you met those familiar black eyes. Agust-D wast staring into your soul and before you could protest he glared at Taehyung who quickly disappeared, while raising his hands in defeat. “Really…?” the raven haired man asked in a low rumble. Rolling your eyes you ripped your hand out of his “What? You guys are in some sort of cult that does not allow you to fuck around?” he blinked a bit taken aback by your words. “I was calling you. Have you forgotten you still need to take those stitches out of me?”.

Taking the phone from your pocket, you stared at the screen. You saw one missed call from an unknown number. “First of all… as I recall we were to have an appointment tomorrow. Second of all, do you know what fucking time it is?” his eyes turned chilly, as he took a step closer. “Did you forget already what I told you? You’re hella out of luck Y/N!” and just like that, he grabbed you once again pulling you behind him.

His whole aura made you instantly shut up and stop arguing. You followed behind him, feeling that if he wanted he could wave you around like a rag-doll. He opened the door to his SUV for you, waiting that you to get in. Once you were sat inside, he got behind the wheel and drove off. You sat in silence, wondering if he was taking you to the gloomy hangar you despised so much. To your surprise, you ended up driving into one of Seoul’s most luxurious parts - UN Village.

Waiting if you were just driving by, you observed the fancy apartment buildings, threw the window. Suddenly he stopped under one of them and got out of the car. Walking to your side he opened your door and awaited for you to jump out. As you slid off the seat, you couldn’t stop looking amazed by the beautifully lit up neighborhood.

Without a word he started walking. You quickly followed, trying not to trip over your own feet, from how surprised you were. He let you inside one of the apartments. It was huge, clean and modernly styled. You stood in the hallway, blinking your eyes. Of course he had to be loaded. He was the head of one of the main gangs of the city. You just did not expect him to chose such a fancy place to live.

Trying not to look overly impressed you said “I don’t have my medical bag with me…” you barely finished the statement and he threw a med kit on the small coffee table in front a huge couch. You walked up slowly, looking over the whole spacious living room. The place looked like from a magazine.

You were brought back to reality once you saw him unbutton his black shirt. Gulping, you averted your eyes from him. “Since you were so upset with the last place, I decided to fulfill you demands on decent workplace…” he said and then asked “Where do you want me?” still a bit stunned, you blurted without thinking “Sit on the couch” and then it hit you that your choice would put you in a uncomfortable position, but it was too late. He had already sat down, with his shirt wide open.

You slightly coughed, trying to think of how to handle the situation. You ended up deciding to sit yourself on the coffee table in front of him. Your slim fingers grabbed at the kit and took out a pair of small scissors and tweezers. Deciding to not utter a word, you hovered yourself over his abdomen and started taking out the stitches.

“Seems like you took the doctors orders a bit more seriously this time…” you finally spoke, earning a slight laugh from him. “Is there an award for good behavior? A lollipop or something?” he chimed in a graveled voice. Felling your face burn you cleared your throat. The alcohol was log gone from your system at this point and so was all the sass you had before.

Once you took the last suture out, you straightened yourself and let out a short breath. “All done…” you said quietly trying not to look at him, but then you felt his fingers push away a loose strand of your hair. “Are you? All done?” he asked in a low voice. Your heart was about to jump out of your chest, as confident as you felt around a guy like Taehyung, Agust-D was a whole different story.

All you could stutter out was a “Mhm… I think…?” still not looking at him, you heard him shift at his spot. He leaned in closer. His breath brushed over your neck and ear as he said “I think you are lying… You looked determined at the club to take my guy out with you…” a tingle went down your whole body as you took a deep breath, trying to regain yourself. “Yea… I still might…”

He chuckled at those words and moved even closer to you, whispering in your ear so close that you could feel his lips over your skin “Well I believe he would leave you disappointed. He wouldn’t be able to handle a woman like you…” you finally dared to gaze at him. He looked a bit amused by your reactions, what made you bite back a bit “Oh and you would know?”.

It was all he needed to feel provoked and grab you by the waist, pulling you onto his lap. “Yea, you are surely needy… and not such a delicate flower as some might think. Truth be told I believe you like a challenge don’t you?”. With that he wrapped one of his hands gently around your neck, causing you to quietly gasp and throw your head back a bit. “See?” you could hear he was smiling. You were so angry at yourself, at how you reacted to him, at how your brain wast starting to be clouded by all the lust he was flaming up in you.

tags: @wobblewobble822 @nansasa @nochook @kootieful @kooslilhoe @yoongisducky @xjiminsthighsx @danielle143 @llallaaa @idkjustlovingbts @darcyw16 @missussally-blog @honsoolgloss @nochuel @kaitieskidmore1 @starrlo0ver @geek-lara-nerd @jwnghyuns @xyahrinx @acquiescence804

179 notes · View notes

ukrfeminism · 1 year

Text

5 minute read

TW: descriptions of sexual violence from the start

“For two hours he tortured me, his hands were everywhere. I thought rape was inevitable, I wondered whether I’d get out alive. We were in an empty property on a quiet cul-de-sac and he’d completely overpowered me.” These are the words of a female estate agent who was attacked by the seller of a property she had gone to value in Essex.

Hers is not a lone voice. Women in the property industry, who frequently visit empty homes alone — either to value them for sellers or to show prospective buyers around — are speaking out about the dangers.

Now, 30 years after the estate agent Suzy Lamplugh was declared dead (seven years after going missing on a viewing in Fulham, west London, with a man who called himself “Mr Kipper”) and 31 years after the Birmingham estate agent Stephanie Slater was kidnapped during a house viewing, women are saying it still isn’t safe to do their job.

Only 22 per cent of estate agents and letting agents, male and female, feel safe when on viewings, while 82 per cent say estate agent safety isn’t taken seriously enough — according to a survey of 150 agents across the country Allan Fuller an estate agent in Putney, southwest London.

The case of the estate agent in Essex, who spoke anonymously to The Times, was dropped by the Crown Prosecution Service last year, two days before coming to court. “I am furious, he had the money to hire a big shot lawyer. I feel let down,” she says. “It has been absolutely horrendous. It had a massive effect on my whole life: my relationship of 15 years broke down and I ended up on antidepressants and having panic attacks every time I went on a valuation.”

Although she has now moved agencies, she continues to work as an estate agent. “I thought, if I give up my job, he has won again — and I love my job.” However, she insists her female colleagues carry rape alarms, check in before and after house visits, and follow strict protocols about leaving doors open in properties and never getting into cars with sellers or potential buyers.

Fuller says: “There is a common misperception in the industry that ‘it won’t happen to me’.”

The responses to Fuller’s survey show that it does happen. One female respondent who works in the West Midlands wrote: “I recently valued a property and met with a man accused of domestic violence and I have never felt so uncomfortable in my life. He proceeded to show me an over-stair cupboard and said that there was ‘enough space for three dead bodies’. I left quickly after that.”

Other comments included:

“During a repossession the owner climbed into the loft and was threatening with a knife. Police had to taser him twice to safely remove him.”

“Carrying out a market appraisal with a gentleman who revealed he was due in court the next day to be charged with rape.”

“I believed a viewer was carrying a knife on a viewing, they were trying to get me into a certain room. The vibe wasn’t good, so I managed to email my office an SOS. Two members of staff came and pretended to be the next viewers.”

And: “I was covering a valuation and the person locked me in without me knowing and as I went to leave he went to hug me. I had to duck under his arm and unlatch the door quickly to get out.”

It’s not just on visits that workers are vulnerable, though. One estate agent told The Times how she was assaulted by a prospective buyer while working alone in an office in Oxford on a dark December evening. After being cornered, by the photocopier, she says she managed to “thump him in the windpipe” and run for help. He was arrested and charged. She now insists all her staff carry rape alarms and follow strict safety rules in and out of the office.

Fuller says he makes staff safety a priority too, sending his staff on self-defence courses — “one tip I picked up was if a man is making an unwanted move on a woman she should look as if she’s about to be sick, they soon back off” — issuing rape alarms, fitting CCTV and insisting that prospective buyers and sellers visit the office, verify their name and address, and are captured on camera before going on viewings.

Claire Lewis, 65, was an estate agent in Putney at the time Lamplugh went missing. She says: “Everyone was so shocked, we’d been getting into cars with prospective clients and going on viewings with men. It never occurred to us that anything could happen. That all changed and we suddenly became much more aware.”

However, she now worries for her daughter, Charlotte Dale, 34, a part-time estate agent in southwest London. “Generally things seem more dangerous for women even though they have mobile phones. Whereas in the past men acted in isolation — now they receive validation and encouragement on the internet,” Lewis says.

The estate agent from Essex, who was tortured for two hours, says she wants to see a national campaign to draw attention to the dangers: “Some estate agents seem to care more about protecting assets, with money laundering checks etc, than they do about protecting their staff. This has to change.”

212 notes · View notes

josefavomjaaga · 2 months

Text

The Metternichs about Junot

Metternich to Mme Metternich, 14 February 1810 It is with true sorrow that I take up my quill today. Your letter of 26 January contains one of the scenes that show us the people of 1792 and 1793 exposed and naked. Place a being like J[unot] in a very high position, he will drink blood without letting any misgivings stop him.

That’s Metternich reacting to the news of the scandal Junot had caused after having discovered the correspondence between his wife Laure and Metternich, proving they had had an affair. Metternich himself was not in Paris at the time but had left some time after the war of 1809 between France and Austria had begun, and in the meantime had taken over the ministry of foreign affairs in Austria. However, Lorel Metternich with the kids had stayed in Paris, and Junot had dragged her right in the middle of a scene of severe domestic violence that she immediately informed her husband of, with the help of a secret agent Metternich had in Paris, Benoit des Androuins.

Interestingly, Lorel Metternich at first does not mention any involvement of Caroline Murat in this event, she only lists her as one of the people gossipping about it.

Other than that, Lorel apparently behaved as prudently as she could once she had entered Junot’s house. According to the letter by Androuins, Junot had forced Laure to write a message to Lorel, urgently inviting her over. On entering, Lorel found Laure Junot crying on the sofa, hiding her face in both hands. - According to Laure’s own journal intime, the last hours had been a nightmare for her, including attempted rape and attempted murder. - Once Lorel Metternich was in the room, Junot locked the door behind both women and started to rage against Metternich, demanding Lorel take revenge upon him etc. The only thing Lorel answered was: "But you are mistaken, Monsieur le Duc. This is not my husband’s handwriting." - Despite the fact she had obviously recognized it. Again, according to Laure’s journal intime, she at some point managed to silently ask Laure if she could do something for her.

Despite Lorel’s calm reaction, the scene must have scared her a lot. At least she seems rather relieved to learn that the Junots were to leave the capital, when she writes to her husband:

Bluebeard has finally left with his amazon and, as I am assured, probably never to return.

"Bluebeard" obviously referring to Junot.

Edit: Forgot to add the source for the two letters: Conti, "Metternich und die Frauen", Vol. 1 - The description of what may (or not) have happened during the night when Laure was alone with Junot are a brief summary of the excerpts from Laure's "journal intime" quoted in Toussaint du Wast, "Laure Junot". It is to be noted that this "journal intime" may have been written years after the event for Balzac, and that it is per se unverifiable.

However, Lorel Metternich calling Junot "Bluebeard" at least strongly hints at her, too, being convinced that Junot had physically abused and possibly tried to murder Laure.

Edit II: On second reading, I added an "attempted" to the accusation of rape. Of course, by the reasoning of the law at the time, rape in the judicial sense would not even have been possible between spouses. Obeying to the husband's needs was the wife's job. - As to Laure's "journal intime", she describes that Junot tried to force himself on her, but claims that she managed to make him stop. (I am not sure I fully believe her.) Junot then at some point attacked her with a pair of scissors, wounding her, before trying to strangle her. He only stopped when Laure was close to loosing consciousness and when he literally saw her blood on his hands. That's how Madame Metternich found Laure on entering.

#klemens von metternich #eleonore von metternich #jean andoche junot #laure junot #paris 1810

43 notes · View notes

antisocial-cheesepuff · 3 months

Text

les miserables cluedo au!

(somebody please write this fanfic because i do not have the skills required to)

SUSPECTS:

Miss Scarlett: Julien Enjolras

Julien Enjolras (24) is the only child of wealthy socialites Augustin and Marie Enjolras. They paid his college tuition for the University of Paris before he was kicked out due to disciplinary actions (relating to the protests he held on campus). Afterwards, he cut ties with his parents and officially formed the Les Amis de l’ABC, a political activist group he started at university. Enjolras has been accused by the police force of inciting violence in his rallies and has been apprehended for resisting arrest several times. He is described by his friends and fellow activists as a fiery, passionate individual with a tendency for trouble. Currently, he lives in Paris, France, and is unemployed.

Per his best friend’s request, Enjolras is reluctantly accompanying Felix Courfeyrac (see below) to Marius Pontmercy’s estate.

Ms. Peacock: Felix Courfeyrac

Felix Courfeyrac (24) is a graduate of The University of Paris and a struggling actor. After earning a degree in Theater Arts, Courfeyrac traveled to the United States to fulfill his dreams in Hollywood. Unable to find work after a year abroad, he returned to France and rejoined the activist group he formed in college with Julien Enjolras (see above). He is well known as a party animal and frequently spends his nights bar hopping or at a club. Courfeyrac can be described as gregarious, flirtatious, and at times, impulsive. He is currently living in Paris, France, and is employed at the Corinthe as a waiter.

Courfeyrac first became friends with Marius in university, where he unsuccessfully introduced him to the Les Amis de l’ABC. However, despite their political and personal differences, the two have managed to stay close.

Professor Plum: Charles Combeferre

Charles Combeferre (26) is a graduate student at the University of Paris. Born and raised in Arizona, Combeferre developed an interest early on in butterflies and moths, and has gone on to pursue a Master’s of Science with a concentration in Entomology and Lepidopterology. After obtaining his Bachelor’s Magna Cum Laude at Harvard University, he made the choice two years ago to relocate to France and study abroad. He frequents the Cornithe and is acquaintances with Courfeyrac and Enjolras. Enjolras has been trying to persuade Combeferre to join the Les Amis de l’ABC, but Combeferre has so far turned him down. Despite this, he occasionally attends their weekly meetings in the backroom of the Cafe Musain and voices his opinions. At first glance, Combeferre is on the quieter side, but shows no hesitation in standing up for others or his beliefs. Enjolras describes him as “overwhelmingly intelligent, witty, and unfailingly kind.” Combeferre is currently presiding in Paris and is unemployed.

Combeferre was introduced to Marius through his friendship with his fiancé, Cosette Fauchelevent (see next entry). Their relationship is strained due to their widely differing opinions, but Combeferre accepted Marius’s invitation to the Pontmercy estate nevertheless.

should i continue the suspect profiles? let me know!

#yes i made marius john boddy/the murder victim why do you ask #everyone else lives this time ig #oh how the turn tables #les mis #les miserables #les miz #enjolras #courfeyrac #combeferre #the triumvirate #cluedo #clue board game #fanfic #fanfic ideas #alternate universe #this is kind of a repost because i deleted my last blog where i originally posted this #fandom nonsense

28 notes · View notes

drbased · 2 months

Note

Kinks and fetishes aren't a reflection of people's morals.

You want to convince me specifically of that? And you think you can do that by making a stage 1 basic assumption that I've already addressed multiple times? Peruse the 'kink tw' on my tag and then come back to me with an actual argument if you want to convince me of anything.

Actions such as kink take place in a symbolic mindset where it's believed we can have mastery over reality. But our minds exist in reality, and reality came first. Causing physical harm is a moral act - you may come to the conclusion that it's morally fine because the violence was necessary, or the reciever decides that they were OK with it. But to assert that it has no reflection of morality is asinine; the physical hurt is still real, and people can use all sorts of contexts to self-harm by proxy, only realising later how bad the situation was. If you have to have rules and guidelines and safewords about fetishes, if the tagline is 'safe, sane and consensual', that necessitates that there is a moral context of BDSM. And on a wider scale, it should be taken with utmost suspicion just how much BDSM reflects real-world power dynamics, torture and rape - the thesis statement of one of the most famous BDSM songs, Master and Servant by Depeche Mode is literally just 'the world is fucked up, so let's be fucked up together'. And considering how there are DDLG kinks, 1950s housewife kinks, bimbo kinks etc. etc. we cannot ignore the prevalance of real-world misogyny in how kinks are formed. So many kinks deliberately skirt around the accusation of immorality by calling it 'play', but this play is does by literal adults with a moral consciousness. As someone who was on kink tumblr, I remember discussion about how you shouldn't parade someone around on a leash in public; about how raceplay is bad. I remember some of the more intellectual kinkster types talking about redefining kink without the power dynamics, and talking about how rape kinks are bad and discussing how to condition yourself out of them. Even the kinksters themselves aren't opposed to acknowledging the morality of kink.

It's moral cowardice to assume that this argument is settled and proven; whilst not everyone who participates in kink is de facto harming themselves and/or others in a clear-cut moral way, we should be allowed to criticise practices which create a context in which violence is enacted, especially when the majority of 'dominants' are male and the majority of 'submissives' are female - to the point where a specific type of kink sometimes known as 'role reversal' is literally of female-led relationships.

#kink tw #my writing #symbolic states

22 notes · View notes

hussyknee · 6 months

Text

Transcribed Twitter thread by Mouin Rabbani about why Israel has suddenly stopped equating Hamas with ISIS.

About a week ago the US and Israeli suddenly stopped comparing Hamas to ISIS. The term “Hamas-ISIS” had become de rigueur among Israeli officials in their public statements, and along with their partners-in-crime in Washington they often insisted Hamas is worse – much worse even – than ISIS. It’s a familiar playbook. In 2001 the Twin Towers had barely collapsed and Ariel Sharon immediately began insisting the PLO was no different than Al-Qaeda and that Yassir Arafat was worse than Usama Bin Laden. Israel’s flunkies and apologists immediately and dutifully followed suit.

But “Hamas-ISIS” is no longer. Israel’s acolytes have for the most part yet to receive the message, and continue parroting a line that has gone out of style with their leaders, but will probably follow suit at some point within the next 24 months.

So, what happened? Most obviously, the US and Israel have been negotiating, concluding, and implementing a series of agreements with “Hamas-ISIS”. It’s not a particularly good look to be in intensive discussions with, and make one concession after the other to, a movement that is purportedly more vicious and brutal than an organization that not only the West but also the international community considers entirely beyond the pale. Especially at a time when a broader agreement, extending beyond an exchange of captives, is reportedly being discussed in Doha by the CIA and Mossad chiefs – the city where not only the Qatari mediators but also Hamas’s current and former political leaders, Ismail Haniyyeh and Khalid Mashal, also reside.

The fact that Hamas is negotiating exchanges of captives and releasing not only foreign but also Israeli Jewish civilians, rather than slitting their throats in gruesome snuff videos also doesn’t help the cause. Nor do testimonies by released captives that, the violence and abuse of their initial seizure notwithstanding, they have generally been treated humanely. Of course, no civilian deserves to be held captive unless convicted of a specific crime by legitimate authority, yet the contrast between the testimonies of released Israeli and Palestinian civilian captives is enormous. Released Palestinian women and children speak of constant physical and verbal abuse, particularly since 7 October; all manner of deprivation; and an escalation of abuse once it became apparent they would be released. Furious at Palestinian joy at the release of their own captives, rampaging Israeli forces have also shot and killed several Palestinian well-wishers, enveloped most others in clouds of tear gas, and raided the homes of receiving families to evict journalists and warn against celebrations or even “expressions of joy”.

Palestinians are not ruled by the Israeli government in the same sense that Israelis within the pre-1967 boundaries are. Rather, they are subject to military government, effectively an Israeli military dictatorship whose rule is best described as totalitarian. It has for example banned flags, even particular color combinations (in clothing and painting for example), and in 2023 also “expressions of joy”.

Hamas videos of the release of their captives, in which they assist the elderly, provide water bottles, and wave goodbye (not quite ISIS-friendly optics) have been criticized as political theatre and propaganda. Fair enough. But it is still quite the contrast with the scenes outside Ofer Prison where Israel releases Palestinian captives. There, the best that Israeli propaganda can achieve is clouds of tear gas, intimidation of journalists, live ammunition, and bullet-ridden corpses. (And, for good measure, arresting more civilians than it releases.)

So not only did the US and Israel want to avoid the accusation they were negotiating with ISIS, the available imagery is also unconducive to the narrative. Joe Biden will go to his grave insisting he has seen videos of infants beheaded by Hamas, but it’s gotten to the point where even poor Jill rolls her eyes. Other Israeli and US claims have also drawn the short end of the stick. For example, the Israeli authorities recently reduced their tally of Israelis killed on 7 October from 1400 to 1200. The reason is that 200 corpses, burned beyond recognition, belonged to Palestinians rather than Israelis. This suggests Hamas was not systematically setting fire to live humans. Similarly, Israeli intelligence (or what’s left of it) has now concluded that Hamas did not have prior knowledge of the rave organized close to the boundary between Israel and the Gaza concentration camp. Therefore this could not have been a premeditated atrocity. I am of course not claiming no atrocities were committed on 7 October, but rather that as more facts become available the “Hamas-ISIS” propaganda line becomes increasingly untenable.

If we put aside Biden’s hallucinations and take Netanyahu off endless repetition for a moment, the ideological, organizational, and political relationship between Hamas and ISIS remains a legitimate field of inquiry. It’s also pretty conclusive. Hamas and ISIS are indeed both Islamist movements. But that’s pretty much where the comparison ends. To suggest they are equivalent or identical is akin to claiming there is no difference between constitutional and absolute monarchies because their heads of state acquire office in the same manner. Hamas is the Palestinian chapter of the Muslim Brotherhood, a regional Islamist movement formed almost a century ago. Its various national branches have sought to achieve political power through mass mobilization, and as such have formed political parties; provided social services; participated in elections, coups, and uprisings; engaged in armed campaigns against domestic autocracy and foreign domination; and in a number of cases formed internationally-recognized governments. It’s a fundamentally different template than that pursued by ISIS.

Hamas was established in the cauldron of the Israeli occupation, and like other Palestinian organizations actively participated in the struggle to end Israeli rule. In 2006 it participated in Palestinian legislative elections, fully certified by the Carter Center, which it won. In 2007 Hamas seized power in the Gaza Strip after a year during which its various domestic and foreign adversaries, to put it politely, actively worked to undermine it. In the intervening years it has in addition to attacks which have garnered global headlines developed relations with states as diverse as Algeria, Egypt, Iran, Russia, and Qatar; negotiated prisoner exchanges and ceasefires with Israel; freed and released foreign hostages (including BBC journalist Alan Johnston) abducted by rivals and criminal gangs; endorsed a two-state settlement with Israel; and cooperated with a variety of UN agencies and international organisations. Its governance of the Gaza Strip years has, to varying degrees, been hegemonic and repressive, but like its politics and policies defies any comparison to that experienced under ISIS’s self-styled caliphate in Syria and Iraq.

ISIS has in fact been bitterly critical of Hamas, and considers the group in its entirety, as well as its individual members, “apostates” and “polytheists” – its most serious transgressions of all. This is on account of, among other mortal sins, Hamas’s participation in democratic elections, its failure to govern solely in accordance with shari’a (Islamic law), relations with Iran and other regional states, and prioritization of Palestinian liberation. Perhaps for this reason Hamas made short shrift of attempts by the Islamic State movement to establish a foothold in the Gaza Strip, primarily in Rafah, during 2015-2016.

END. Postscript: @rao2of has kindly pointed out a significant oversight on my part: that in its efforts to normalise relations with Egypt after initial post-Sisi coup hostility, Hamas began cooperating with Egypt's anti-ISIS campaign in Sinai, drawing even greater fury from it.

28 notes · View notes

opalspring · 4 months

Text

Kotoko's justice and her motivations theory

While Kotoko is still pretty mysterious, there are some parts in Milgram that could hint at her inner workings and why she does the things she does. Here mostly content from her mvs will be discussed. Be careful as this theory discusses sensitive topics.

CW: discussion of kidnapping and SA

The wolf imagery and its possible multiple meanings

Before Deep Cover came out, one theory regarding the wolves in Harrow is that they represented Kotoko’s allies in her actions.

Now that it’s out, it seems more likely Kotoko was acting entirely alone for her actions (so more of a lone wolf image rather than hunting with a pack).

Kotoko has strong ties with both regular wolves and also werewolves, with distinct symbolism for each.

Jacques Roulet was the name of a French man who was accused of being a werewolf in the late XVIth century (source: https://www.historydefined.net/the-french-werewolf-panic/).

The wolf imagery seems to be associated with Kotoko’s sense of justice and her preference for working alone, unlike the werewolf imagery that represents her excesses of violence (imo). This is seen mostly in Harrow, featuring wolves and an overall positive view of Kotoko, then in DC which has her more questionable sides and the whole werewolf image.

Still, I feel like there’s more to the wolves regarding Kotoko’s case.

This article (https://www.psychologies.com/Therapies/Psychanalyse/Dictionnaire-des-reves/Loup) talks about some of the symbolisms of wolves, including violence, aggressivity, etc. This is psychoanalysis so take it with a grain of salt though.

One passage that struck me in particular was this one:

“Most of the time, in dreams, the wolf is a representation of a masculine sexual predator. Like in fairy tales, the wolf is an amateur of fresh meat (Little Red riding hood). Its presence in dreams can signify that the dreamer was exposed to disturbing sexual behaviors, abusive or pedophilic.” (translation)

This is what I think could be the hidden symbolism of the wolf in Kotoko’s mvs: maybe she was sexually abused as a child and developed her vigilante persona/obsession with punishing criminals as a coping mechanism to her trauma.

This part of Kotoko’s past might be hinted at with the flashbacks she gets at two points in Harrow, as she could be the little girl with the pink shirt we see (though this is still just a theory).

I feel like she’d need a very strong reason to go the lengths she goes for her hunt of criminals, unlike someone like Fuuta who also hates injustice, but takes much “lazier” actions for his beliefs for example.

In my opinion, wolves for Kotoko represent both her determination to hunt criminals, and werewolves her childhood trauma and her tendencies for violence depending on the scene/situation.

The wolf (both childhood trauma reminder and a representation of her violence here imo) haunting Kotoko. She also became the aggressor she hates so much like a lot of people pointed out, though in her case it's physical violence.

Kotoko doesn’t understand why she’s still not satisfied after dealing with all the criminals on her list and beating up the guilty prisoners. It could be because her trauma is still occupying her thoughts.

Many people have theorized that the girl with a pink shirt in Harrow could be Kotoko as a child. I completely agree with this, and it could be that Kotoko beat up Takao (the child kidnapper) to the point he died, because the orange dress girl’s situation reminded her so much of her past that she lost all control and killed him in the emotion (unlike the guy in the alley who she just beat up (iirc)).

Kotoko’s flashbacks while killing Takao (the car incident seems to have had an effect on her too).

A detail that’s a little strange is how the man in Kotoko’s flashback looks exactly the same as Takao (he’s even in the same outfit). It’s strange because Deep Cover confirms he’s 24 at the time Kotoko kills him, so he couldn’t be an adult if he was the one who hurt Kotoko as a child. Maybe she sees him as a stand-in for the person who traumatized her in the past?

As a side note, I think both the girl in a dress and the one in a pink shirt are Kotoko in the flashback. Maybe she changed clothes if she was kept captive for multiple days, and the floorboards look identical in both frames.

Some lyrics from Harrow that could refer to Kotoko’s past are these ones imo:

-I’ll teach you the pain you caused

→ as in the pain she suffered herself, hence why she feels like she has to punish criminals

- Becoming light-headed again, it all becomes crazy

The normalcy sought for, Fading away, Everytime death comes

The soul moves forward

and

Newly born “HARROW” “HARROW”

It’s ok to dislike, right?

Losing it, losing it, What should I hope for

Goodnight “HARROW” “HARROW”

Laugh and I can get to like myself

→ this could highlight how Kotoko constantly has something on her mind which makes her day to day life difficult (and that punishing criminals helps with it somewhat)

Kotoko’s self-hatred

If the theory about Kotoko’s childhood trauma is true, I feel like it could explain her general aggressiveness and dissatisfaction with life. Some lines in her mvs hint at her disliking herself too (“Feeding on food so I don’t burn out” etc).

“The feeling of being "cut-off" from peers and "emotional numbness" are both results of CSA and highly inhibit proper social functioning.” (source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Child_sexual_abuse)

(Since wikipedia isn’t always super reliable and I’m not an expert on the subject feel free to correct me if this is incorrect.)

Of course there are other explanations for this kind of behavior, but this info could potentially explain some things about Kotoko.

One thing is how Kotoko keeps her distance from the other prisoners in Milgram and isn’t really close with anybody, not even Kazui for example, who has the same hobby as her (training).

Other prisoners try to get to know her in timeline conversations , but she always stays placid and cuts the conversation short.

Mahiru: Hey, Kotoko-chan. There’s something that’s really been bugging me, so do you mind if I ask?

……how do you style yourself so well? Have you always dressed like that? But it also looks like something you’d wear for training. Do you play sport? Ah, or maybe some kind of martial arts?

Kotoko: ……you really are carefree. Everyone in here is a “murderer” right?

Is this really the time to be asking questions like that?

(tl by Rochisama)

Mikoto: Hey, hey, Koto-chan.

I’ve been thinking this ever since I first heard your name, but...

Don’t you think the names “Mikoto” and “Kotoko” kinda sound like siblings?

Kotoko: No.

Mikoto: Don’t say that!

Let’s get along well from here on as the Koto-Koto combo!

Kotoko: I’m not doing that.

(tl by Rochisama)

She could also just have an aloof personality by nature, but still wanted to point this out.

During Deep Cover, I feel like Kotoko’s diss on the other prisoners is mostly meant to show her own self-hatred rather than her dislike of the other prisoners (though this is definitely true as well).

It’s perfectly normal for someone to dislike some people, or a specific kind of people (like how she mentions disliking Mikoto because he’s loud). However, Kotoko goes well over all that and goes on a rant about each prisoner and their supposed faults in her eyes. In my opinion, it’s very strange that Kotoko dislikes All the other prisoners without exception, and to that degree.

Like said earlier, I think Kotoko’s obsession with justice and punishing “evildoers”, including people like Yuno, is not so much her caring about justice but a way for her to cope with her childhood trauma (Fuuta and his justice-seeking is also similar imo, though in his case my theory is that he was bullied in the past).

We see her beat up multiple people throughout Milgram, but so far her only confirmed victim is Takao. With the emphasis on her flashbacks when thinking about him in Harrow, Kotoko could have killed him instead of beating him up like said above, as his crimes were directly linked to her past experiences, and she couldn’t bring herself to stop before killing him.

I think Kotoko doesn’t really care about the other prisoners cases’ specifics in the end, she might be just searching for an excuse to prove to herself that she’s one of the “strong ones” who protect the weak, like she mentions to Es in her second vd and in a distorted line in one of the trailers:

“From the beginning I've never asked for your understanding! My actions, one by one, are bringing earth closer to peace. Useless Weaklings should just shut up and let me protect them!" (tl by milgram_en)

As in, she’s trying to prove all that to herself most and foremost.

Why does Kotoko look so restless here? Of course she’s happy to rescue the girl, but why is she sweating so hard and grabbing the girl by the collar? In my opinion, this could be because she’s still shaken up from Takao’s killing (in the sense that she just killed the equivalent of the person who hurt her as a child, if we go with that theory). Maybe Kotoko sees herself in the orange dress girl, and she wishes someone had been there to save her too when it happened to her in the past.

It could be why she instinctively pushes the girl away (?) when she hugs her (though later in the mv we see they get along).

Another detail in Deep Cover that’s pretty interesting is the last line in the lyrics:

“They’re still here, still here, it grates me”

From the previous lines it’s implied she’s talking about the other prisoners, more specifically the innocent ones in T1. So they get on her nerves because they were incorrectly judged and couldn’t be punished by her (imo).

The Japanese line however is a lot more vague:

“ほら残ってさ　残ってさ　鬱雑いね”

The line means the same thing, except the subject isn’t made clear. So a literal translation could be like “X is still here, X is still here, it grates me”

The English translations are official so maybe I’m overthinking this, but maybe Kotoko could be talking about her thoughts here? This is a reach, but “X” might refer to flashbacks of her childhood trauma, especially if we go along with the theory that the wolf at the end of DC= Kotoko’s trauma personified. This is just speculation though.

I feel like the subject in the last line being the wolf/Kotoko’s trauma could explain why she looks so distressed here, despite just having finished insulting the prisoners.

Plus, the next frame shows Kotoko’s chess piece being covered in blood/marked guilty like the other prisoners’. Imo this shows both Kotoko’s realization that she went too far with her “justice”, and that even after enacting it, she’s still not satisfied (because the real cause of her justice-seeking could be her trauma).

#can't wait to see Ktk's reaction to her verdict in T3 #angry at her for beating up other prisoners but it's interesting to think about what could have led her to get her mindset #though it's hard to know for sure #milgram #milgram theory

21 notes · View notes

bouxmounir · 2 years

Text

qui est ce PDG « ambitieux et prétentieux », accusé de violer des mineurs ?

Examiné et testé samedi dernier, ce «distribution industrielle» Nourrit l’image d’un homme d’affaires pour rien, ayant construit son empire dans un bungalow de neuf mètres carrés planté dans son jardin près d’un demi-siècle. L’histoire de Jacques Bouthier se résume dans la cellule de tous les autodidactes de son temps. Dépôts d’une fortune de personnel estimée à 160 millions d’euros d’ici 2020…

View On WordPress

0 notes

spicyclover · 1 year

Text

All the things you said | part two

Summary: A big dinner is organized by Charles to bring together some pilots and their wives, girlfriends, sister and friends. Everyone enjoys the evening until a topic of conversation leads to dark revelations. What secrets will be revealed?

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

Hope you’ll enjoy this part. Let me know in the comments section! And to support me by tipping me!

I'm open to requests.

Little information, I will, for now, only post on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.

Thank you, and Enjoy! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

WARNING: mention of physical and verbal aggression! Su*c*de WARNING !R@PE!

If you are struggling with this. Please get help. You are loved, and your life is valued. Even if you don’t see it, you are loved.

“I tried, but... nobody listened to me.” You respond by looking at Lando through your tears.

Your eyes pierce that of Lando. A rage invades the spirit of Charles seeing your sights set on the British.

“You knew.” He accuses Lando turning abruptly towards him.

“I... I.” He tries to defend himself. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“Oh, you think she knew what to do either.” He yells, getting up from his chair and grabbing him by the collar.

“Charles, let him go!” Orders Carlos.

“You let her suffer silently when you knew what he did to her. I thought you were better than this. T’es qu’une grosse merde.”

“Oh please, like you would have done something? We all know he’s untouchable and has done it before.” Admitted Lando, pushing Charles away.

“What?” Sebastian speaks up.

“Nothing.”

“It’s nothing? He raped her, and now other girls too?” Charles advances again, preventing him from fleeing the situation.

“What?” You speak up, troubled by Lando's affirmation.

“It’s not what it looks like.” Charles tries, taking your hands in his.

“Don’t touch me.” You say, pushing him away. “Did you do it?”

“I... It’s not important.”

“Yes. It actually is. Did you fuck those teenage girls?”

“Oui,” he admits in a small voice. “I didn’t want to.”

“You didn’t want to fuck those girls? What the fuck, Charles. What's wrong with you all?” You yell, taking your stuff and leaving as fast as possible.

The thought of all this happening to so many more makes you sick. How could nobody speak up about this? The elevator arrives, and you get in. You can hear footsteps and Charles's voice telling you to come back. Tears fall down your cheeks, and you look at him as the door closes.

You take the first taxi and give him your address. All you want right now is a shower. A warm and reassuring shower. To pull away all those memories and thoughts. You want to scream to the world. You want to smash your entire apartment down. You want to stay in bed for the rest of your life. You want to jump off the roof. You want to cut yourself so that the pain stops.

You arrive at the complex. Your dark thought runs in circles in your head. Like a robot, you open the complex door, press the elevator, and finally unlock your apartment. You let your essentials fall on the ground with your bag and coat. Like a machine, you take your shoes off and open the lights.

You go to the bathroom and open the valve to fill the bathtub. You watch the water. You can hear your phone blowing up with notifications and calls. “Why this world has to be this cruel?” You think, taking your clothes off.

That’s it. You feel alone since that night he took your joy, your life, yourself.

You let the water go in, and suddenly, all the scary parts disappear. The explosion in your head fades away, and you’re not scared anymore. You find it relatively peaceful. Very peaceful.

To continue...

Tag list: @tyna-19

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #lando norris #lando norris x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 #lance stroll #lance stroll x reader #angst #warning

232 notes · View notes

leftistfeminista · 1 month

Text

Sexual violence: the forgotten chapter of the military dictatorship of Brazil

Despite being present and constant, the sexual violence practiced by repression agents, authorized by the regime's top brass to torture any suspect, is hardly mentioned in history books and other more common records about the period. One of the challenges faced by consultants, academics and specialists who worked at CNV was precisely to bring these reports to light.

"Sexual violence is an unknown aspect of the military dictatorship. Even today, even after the publication of the CNV's final report, it is something that remains little known because it is a taboo topic and carries this extra burden when discussed", says Glenda Mezzaroba, scientist politician who coordinated the working group "Dictatorship and Gender" at the CNV and author of the book A reckoning with the future: amnesty and its consequences, a study of the Brazilian case . "

According to the political scientist, it was extremely important to conceptualize very well what can be considered sexual violence using the concepts of international bodies such as the World Health Organization. Especially because at the time of the military regime (and even today) the concept of sexual violence and rape are very focused on whether or not there was penetration. And the reports collected show that there was, indeed, sexual violence that did not necessarily involve penetration of the vagina or anus, "The majority of victims did not have the idea that being forced to be naked at the time of arrest is already sexual violence," explains. "We even observed that there were allegations of sexual violence in the book that Carlos Marighella published in 1965, reporting electric shocks to the genitals. However, there was not much clarity in the classification of this violence.

The chapter reserved for sexual violence in the final report of the National Truth Commission published in 2014, showed how the agents of repression had a macabre appreciation for the practice. In the reports, the initial act of stripping the prisoner naked and placing him in front of other agents and spectators was standard. Verbal humiliation, accusations and death threats against companions, family and friends then followed. Women were raped in front of their spouses as a way to get them to hand over information.

"I was there, I was vulnerable, completely vulnerable. Then the guy put his hand inside my clothes and then, well, like any other sexual abuse, I won't describe details, but that's what happened. His hand went through everything and I don't know what. He said: 'No, she's going to cum, with me she's going to cum and she's going to talk'. That's just normal people's stuff."

The excerpt above was taken from the testimony of Ieda Akselrud de Seixas, daughter of Minas Gerais militants, raped at DOI-CODI in 1971 when her entire family was arrested for involvement in revolutionary movements that fought against the military regime. Ieda, like several women and men, reports that it took some time to understand that the rape she suffered was also part of the military's torture method.

"But it took me a long time to realize that it was sexual abuse, do you know why? I minimized that episode because, after all, it wasn't a macaw's dick, it wasn't a shock and it wasn't a dragon's chair. That's really crazy! It's really crazy," she said.

Maria Auxiliadora Lara Barcelos, known as "Dora", was arrested in 1969 and taken to the Army Police barracks , in Vila Militar , where she was stripped naked, beaten, and subjected to electric shocks on her breasts, vaginas and various parts of her body. She was banished to Chile in 1971, but had to leave the country because of the Pinochet dictatorship. Dora never recovered from the emotional consequences left by torture and committed suicide in 1976 at the age of 31 in West Berlin. Photo: Reproduction.

The simple fact that they were women, whether left-wing militants or not, was also a reason for the military to curse and verbally humiliate the captured women. The common sense was that they were to blame for being there, as it was far from their role as daughter, wife or mother. Gender hatred was evident. That's why they called them "whore", "slut" and any other adjective that is the counterpoint of saint. The only two roles applicable to women in the regime's view.

"Because you are a woman, you also realize that there is perhaps, sometimes, a much greater anger, I don't know if it is because of the question of thinking 'why is a woman doing this? Why is a girl doing this?' And it's a way, perhaps, of wanting to disqualify you in every way. In fact, the least you hear is that you're a 'cow' That's the way you're called," reported Maria. Aparecida Costa to CNV.

According to the final report, sexual violence was not occasional but rather widespread as a common practice throughout the repressive structure of the regime. "In the testimonies analyzed by the “Dictatorship and Gender” working group, DEIC, DOI-CODI, DOPS, Galeão Air Base, Army Police battalions, Casa da Morte (Petrópolis), Cenimar, CISA, police stations, Oban are mentioned. , military hospitals, prisons and barracks," says item 37 belonging to chapter 10 of the final report of the National Truth Commission.

In addition to the emotional scars that the torture left on the victims, there are still some who carried great guilt for having given up information about their companions during the torture sessions. This issue was also addressed by the team coordinated by Mezzaroba. In an anonymous statement, a woman reports the great guilt she felt after not having resisted the pain during torture and revealed information to the military. She was arrested at 19 years old.

"(…) We can hear in the speech of many of those who have gone through the experience of imprisonment and torture, referring to themselves, expressions such as “I resisted”, “I didn't inform on”, “I didn't turn anyone in”. Or, referring to others, expressions like: “he didn’t open anything”. (…) Expressions that, on the one hand, reflect the feeling of pride and honor of those who say them, also carry with them, implicitly, even if subtly, a painful accusation against those who say them. who, for some reason, didn't resist. Maybe they don't understand their pain," said the victim in her report.

Mezzaroba says that the owner of the above statement carried a load of guilt, apart from the inevitable psychological consequences of anyone who was a victim of torture promoted by the State. "She brought great pain, embedded in this logic that you should resist and not give anything away. In fact, everything that happens from the first violence in torture, nothing becomes the victim's responsibility after that. (…) she was the victim of unspeakable and incapable of measurement violence. Nothing that happens under torture is the responsibility of the victim. There, the human being no longer has control over his or her body. which is really important."

#political prisoners #marxism-feminism #brazil #military junta #military dictatorship #women's rights

13 notes · View notes