#mention of rape

[awakefor48hours]

Please stop telling people, for any reason, to kill themself. Stop advocating for suicide in any form or capacity.

[sometimes-i-make-mcr-fanart]

no both option and i'm not putting a paragraph in here to properly explain why i choose not too.

[maddiesbookshelves]

I decided to treat myself to celebrate the end of my studies 😌

From left to right;

Spy x Family

Where the best spy in the world has to create a family for himself in order to complete a mission but unknowingly adopts a telepath and marries an assassin working for the enemy

Lessons in Chemistry

Where misogyny forces a chemist to quit her job and become the host of a cooking show but she ends up shaking things up for other women

Quand la nuit tombe (Night view on the Factory/Kōjō Yakei)

Where former friends-in-love Ao and Takaomi meet again after years apart following the rape of Takaomi's mother by Ao's father

De gauche à droite;

Spy x Family

Où le meilleur espion du monde doit se créer une famille pour mener à bien une mission mais adopte une télépathe et épouse une assassine travaillant pour l'ennemi sans le savoir

Lessons in Chemistry

Où la misogynie force une chimiste à démissionner et à devenir la présentatrice d'une émission de cuisine mais elle finit par faire bouger les choses pour les autres femmes

Night view on the Factory (Kōjō Yakei)

Où Ao et Takaomi, anciens amis amoureux, se retrouvent après des années de séparation suite au viol de la mère de Takaomi par le père d'Ao

[alpaca-clouds]

My Issue with Redemption Arcs

I think my most unpopular popculture opinion ever is: Zuko's redemption arc... does not really work for me. Though it is not that much a thing about Zuko's redemption arc and rather about how white western media tends to portray redemption arcs.

Usually it goes something like that: There is this villain character, who usually from the very beginning is carrying this huge "gotta get redeemed later" sign with themselves, who at some point in the story goes "wait, am I the bad guy?!" They will then go ahead and join the ragtag band of protagonists, who might be kinda mistrustful for obvious reasons, but will probably come along within half a seasons worth of episodes (or up to 10 book chapters) and quickly forgive him. There might be some episodes/chapters to establish the reformed villain's role within the group then. If the now reformed villain has done ill by a large group of people (because they are a war criminal or something) there might also be an episode/chapter where they go ahead and save a village or something, willing to sacrifice themselves. Which instantly will make everyone everywhere totally forgive them and they end up being celebrated a hero by all.

Thanks. I hate it.

But now let me talk about why I hate it so much.

It is not even a complicated reason. It is simply: This kind of story tends to put narrative pressure onto the victims to forgive the villain, who might have suffered all kinds of both physical and mental pain through what the villain have done.

Depending on the kind of story they might have suffered abuse, might have lost family members or friends, might have been a supressed class or even a slave because of the villain.

And then the story will go: "But, hey, the villain is now really sorry and you tots should forgive them because they didn't mean it! Don't you see, they have this big dramatic, sympathetic backstory that totally explains why they have turned out that way."

And I am sorry, but... It just does not work like that.

My issue is not the villain redeeming themselves. That is fine. But it is specifically the relation to the victim and the expectation that the victim(s) need to be fine with it then that irks me so much. And how easily they are forgiven.

And yes, the reason why this irks me so much is, that in real life we often also expect victims to behave like that. "Oh, your parents abused you? Well, they said they are sorry and are willing to make up for it. So you should accept that!" - "Oh, that bully from highschool? See, they went to a super rough patch with their family at the time and now they feel sorry. Will you not go and meet with them so they can apologize?" - "Oh, that expartner who raped you? Yeah, they went to therapy and are now totally reformed. They feel really sorry. Forgive them."

And it also obviously goes for group-based violence. "Oh, that politician, who campaigned on taking your human rights from you and had your brother thrown into prison? Yeah, they totally are seeing now that they were in the wrong and are willing to make up for it! Give them a chance!"

And that's just not... how any of this works.

I am perfectly fine with people switching sides and joining the good side... But I am just not fine with people being forgiven by everyone everywhere by just... doing this one thing or gesture for them, making everyone instantly go "I guess it is fine now".

If you follow me for any amount of time you know that my favorite series currently is Castlevania - and if you have followed me a bit longer you also know my favorite movie of all time is Mad Max Fury Road. And I think both have a much better approach to redemption arcs.

Isaac's story in Castlevania very much is a redemption arc. But during this redemption arc NOBODY has to forgive Isaac. Well, that is nobody but himself. There is no survivors from the genocide that he has to save to proof himself and who then are forced by the narrative to say: "Yeah, actually he is a good guy." His entire arc is about he himself figuring out why he did wrong and how he could do better.

Same with Mad Max Fury Road and Furiosa. The story is not shy about telling you that it is a redemption story. Though the things the characters need redemption for are not even defined in detail. It is just said: "Yeah, they are looking for redemption." It is very much about Furiosa and Max learning that they can do right by some people, even if they have done wrong by others. We do not even know (well, in Max's case we do through additional material), who they have failed/done wrong by. Those do not factor into the story. The story is about them learning to do right.

Nobody owes anyone forgiveness. And I hate it, when media frames it as if they do.

[kaylinasher]

6

TW - VIOLENCE, BLOOD, TORTURE, MENTION OF RAPE, MENTION OF EXECUTION

Damien's a complete and total asshole k?

When Lucifer had ruled Hell, his sons had been granted great power in the realm.  When he'd been overthrown, some had tried to grab the throne, and now were in Caligo for their troubles.  Damien had played by the rules, even if that meant bending them occasionally.   He was not willing to give up his power, but after seeing exactly how much of their own his niece and nephew wielded, he knew that he would not be able to overthrow either of them.  That did not mean, however, that he did not rule those within his castle with an iron fist that came down swift and harsh on any who crossed him.

Down in the bowels of the castle, Asher had been hung by his wrists from manacles attached to the ceiling of a cell that had wrought iron walls, ceiling and floor.  His feet were also manacled with a chain that ran through a loop on the floor that they barely touched.  All the way down to the dungeon, Asher had fought the guards to try and get free so he could get back to Kaylin.  He had known that there were too many of them for him to defeat them all, but he had to try.  Too many times he’d seen Lord Damien’s cruelty against those who displeased him, and Asher feared for what Kaylin was being subjected to now that they were alone in her room together. 

When Damien made his way down to where Asher was detained, the black blood on his shirt was indication enough to Asher that he’d hurt Kaylin. How badly didn't matter, the Prince had laid hands on her in violence and the dragon within him yearned to strike out in a violent and vicious vengeance. Straining against his restraints that bit into his wrists and ankles, he tried to lunge at the Royal Prince.  Curses flowed from his mouth like water as he promised pain and death to Damien, who in turn just darkly laughed in return.  He knew the iron kept Asher from shifting or using any other kind of magic.  It was why that cell was used. Containment. 

“You can threaten till your voice runs out, but you can’t do a thing, dragon.  You're as helpless as the day you hatched, the day I really should have killed you; before you could ruin my daughter.  You’ll only get out of those chains when I take off your head in the morning.”  Damien grinned malevolently as he circled Asher, taunting him.  “Maybe I’ll let you live long enough to hear her scream as my entire legion,” he leaned in close to Asher’s back to whisper in his ear, “fucks your memory out of her.”

The roar that came from Asher could be heard through most of the castle and got the attention of all the guards who were in the lower two levels of the dungeon area. All were supremely glad the dragon could not escape his bonds.  If freed, there was no doubt not a demon nor a stone would be left unscorched by his fire. While there were none that would question Damien’s orders, they also knew that crossing Asher often lead to death, and a painful one at that.

“I will kill you before I let you or your men touch her again!” The manacles cut into his skin, causing his yellow blood to start to slowly drip down his tanned skin that was stretched taut over his straining muscular forearms.  He didn’t know how quite yet, but he would figure out a way to get free and he would get his revenge on Damien for this.  Oaths were silently made to deities that he wasn’t sure existed, but he did believe in.

The laugh that came from Damien next was pure evil. "You can't shift, you can't even change positions.  You'll do nothing but endure my wrath.  The pain you feel will be the cost of ever thinking you were worthy of my daughter.  Her punishment will be much more drawn out.  Remember that as you receive your own…" Reaching to the table behind him, Damien took hold of the cat of nine tails that had imp claws at the end of each of the warg leather lashings.  Sharp as razor blades, there was no doubt the damage that would be inflicted. His grin was malevolent as he slowly turned the leather wrapped handle in his handle, already anticipating the joy of making Asher suffer. There was a warmth of satisfaction that spread through his breast.

For the first few lashings he received, Asher did not give Damien the satisfaction of hearing him scream.  His jaw clenched, his eyes closed, and though the skin on his back was flayed open, he did nothing more than grunt at the white hot pain that each strike brought with it.  Behind his eyelids, he was focusing on Kaylin’s face and the firm belief he would find a way to get free and save her.  Even with golden blood forming building rivers that were starting to flow down the backs of his legs, he refused to admit defeat.   

Every hard strike that Damien delivered had him jerking against the chains, soft puffs of dust coming from around the bolts that secured Asher’s chains to the floor and ceiling.  Even restrained, the dragon was strong and fighting hard against the bonds that held him.  But Damien had planned ahead; the wrought iron contained his magic and slowing his healing.  It was only a matter of time before Damien would break him, and there was plenty of that before dawn.  Pain was one thing that he loved to deliver and he was not particularly choosy about who it was delivered to.  Unlike his father, Damien had no love or compassion within him, only a drive for more power.

By alternating the direction of the strikes across Asher’s back, Damien was ensuring maximum damage.  After hours of flagellation, it was not just Asher’s back that was raw, his throat was as well.  His voice long since lost from screaming at the ever intensifying pain and the deepening realization he was powerless to protect the woman he loved.  He now prayed to any deity listening for death, but it seemed that no one was listening since Azrael didn't appear to claim his soul.  How he would have welcomed the angel he'd been avoiding all his life, if he'd only show up now.

When light started to filter through the small window in the cell, Damien decided it was time to retrieve his daughter for the execution of her lover.  He was no longer enjoying the torture of Asher since he had lost the ability to scream and his strength was failing so he just hung limply from his chains.  At least he would get some pleasure from his daughter watching him die, then what he planned for her after.

[mandogab]

‼️ Contains spoilers for S3E7 ‼️

Summary:

Bo-Katan must confront her past. And she meets someone who has been dead to her for years.

🎶 Valley of Death – Skillet

[harmonyverendez]

Being Edward Cullen's Twin Sister would include | Twilight Saga

Warning: Stalking, Killing, gore, Blood Sucking, Mention of Rape, Etc.

Tags: Fanfiction, suspense, Fantasy

Pairings: Edward Cullen x Bella Swan, female! Reader x Random Reader ( Whoever you choose to be paired with )

~

• Life before becoming a vampire was average. You had some up and downs but your life was human.

• When the town begins to get sick with Spanish influenza, you are scared.

• Spending as much time as you could with your family.

• Going to parties, never leaving your brother side and helping out with your mother and father.

• When your father died, you were sad.

• When your mother died, things were not the same.

• You were always on Edward's neck when both of your parents died.

• That's when you met Carlisle, he was a young doctor at the time.

• He seemed nice, but you always felt calm around him. He made you feel protected, loved, and just cherished.

• When Carlisle bit your brother, you were scared and ran for your life.

• You came back two years later at the age nineteen and was shocked at what your brother begin.

• You told your brother Edward about your past and how men took advantage of you.

• Edward was shocked, but you told him to not to worry.

• it was too late, your brother hunt them down and killed every single one of them.

• Carlisle changed you and your brother couldn't be more happier.

• Edward didn't want your soul to be damned to hell, but he was glad to see you... Even in the afterlife of being a vampire.

• You two went rogue and ended up killing bad men, draining humans, you were more Sadist then your brother since men raped you... And you hated them all.

• Once that Victorian area ended, you drunk yourself with alcohol and only Edward brought you out of it.

• You two ended up going back to Carlisle and that's when Rosalie enter the picture.

• She was just like you in every way... Same rough past

• Although you disliked her attitude.

• Hated going to high school.

• You disliked Alice and Jasper the moment they step into your and your family's lives.

• It took a while to warm up to Jasper, dude had problems controlling his bloodlust.

• Your brother was the same, you had more control than you thought.

• When Bella entered the picture, you just wanted to shove your head out the window.

• She brought so much pain, drama, and chaos to the family.

• In the end she became family.

• Taking up and Protecting Renesmee.

• You found your soul mate with [ Person name ] and you two life has changed and for the better.

[awakefor48hours]

“Mark can’t get raped by Anissa because all men like sex,” I gonna need you to delete every social media account you have, go outside, talk to real people, and never use a smartphone for the rest of your life.

[evilwriter-originals]

Whumptober Day 14 - Any Means Necessary

Prompts: Die a Hero or Live Long Enough to Become a Villain, Desperate Measures, Failed Escape

Rated: mature

Warnings: slavery, graphic depictions of violence, murder, blood, beatings, mention of rape

Word Count: 1,712

Summary: Hakur has been planning this slave revolt for a while, and he is willing to go to the extremes to see it through.

Hakur had an idea. He’d had this idea for a very long time, the seed of it planted ever since his captivity. He’d allowed the seed to grow, cultivating it over time. 

Of course, the ensuing plant had been ruined, cut down, beaten again and again. For a long while he’d thought the seed was gone.

But now he felt it in his chest.

It was time.

Hakur was going to start a revolt.

He picked a few of the other slaves that he was friends with, ones that got into almost as much trouble as he did. None were ever treated as harshly though. Their master, Ben, had a special place of hatred in his heart for the Nessari, wings or no.

They took whatever they could use as weapons over the next few days, gathering the supplies and hiding them in the shed near the small cabin the slaves were forced to live in. The cabin was a terrible place. There wasn’t a lot of space, and hardly any windows, the place airless and rancid with sweat and blood and excrement.

Hakur took up the big metal hoe, feeling his blood burning, his heart pounding. It was time. He was really going to do this. After about a decade of suffering, he’d decided he was done. 

“What are you doing?”

Hakur turned to see Rayna, watching him carefully as he held the hoe. It was night time, and he wasn’t supposed to be in the shed, but that’s where he’d hidden the makeshift weapons.

“Did you follow me here?” Hakur asked, afraid. “Are you going to tell Ben?”

“You’re going to get everyone tortured or killed!” Rayna cried. “Please, Hakur. You can’t do this! Just run away. Run away and don’t get anyone else involved in your horrible schemes!”

“Horrible?” Hakur asked. He spread his arms. “I mean to free us.” 

“The only thing you’ll be freeing is Ben’s anger,” Rayna told him, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Rayna… How long have you been here?” Hakur asked. He knew, but he needed to ask, needed to get his point across to her.

“Two years,” she responded dismally.

“And I’ve been here ten,” Hakur said. “I’m immortal. I could be kept a slave forever.”

“And so you’re bringing your misery down on the rest of us.” Rayna shook her head.

“No! You don’t understand!”

“Hakur.” The other slaves that were going to help him approached. They all held their tools and makeshift weapons. One put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s time.” 

Hakur looked at the rest of them, then at the hoe in his hand. Rage was burning within him, terrible, terrible rage. How could Rayna not see the good in what he was doing?

“Give me the shovel,” Hakur said to his friend.

“But… but I wanted the shovel.”

“Give it to me,” Hakur demanded. He was the leader of this group after all.

His friend clenched his jaw, but didn’t say anything, and they traded tools. 

“Fools,” Rayna hissed. “You’re all fools.” 

And then she began to run, up towards the manor house. 

“We can’t let her warn Ben!” Hakur yelled. He ran after Rayna, his friends following behind him. His body didn’t like the running, weak as it was from overextending itself to work and avoid beatings, but he tried his best. 

He was taller than Rayna. He caught up to her.

Not even thinking, Hakur raised the shovel, and smacked her hard in the back of the head.

She crumpled without a sound.

His friends stood with him around Rayna, panting.

“What’d you do that for?!” one of them hissed. If they were too loud, they’d be discovered.

Hakur hefted the shovel in his hand, staring at Rayna. There was blood on the back of her head. Was she breathing?

“She was going to tell Ben.” 

“Gods, Hakur, I think she’s dead!” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Hakur said. He tightened his grip on the shovel, and his resolve. It didn’t matter to him that he’d just killed someone. She’d only been getting in the way of his plans for freedom and revenge.

“It does,” one of his so-called friends said. “I…” He dropped his tool, metal rake falling to the dirt. “I can’t do this.”

“You said you would!”

“No,” he said. He shook his head. “I won’t… I can’t help you.”

“If you go to warn Ben, I’ll kill you like I did Rayna.”

Hakur was a little surprised about how cold that came out. It was the worst thing he’d ever said to anybody, but he was just so angry. They were okay with continuing to suffer these injustices?

Hakur wasn’t. He was tired of them, tired of the work, the whippings, the metal collar around his neck. The brand on his back itched, as did the one on his chest. He was tired of starving, of barely sleeping, of hearing the cries and seeing the blood of fellow slaves.

He had to stop this.

No matter the cost.

The silence was over. “I won’t tell him,” his friend said. “Just don’t let him know I was involved if he catches you.”

Hakur nodded. It was a lie. This man had betrayed him, betrayed his plan. If he got caught, (his friend made it sound more like “when”), he would certainly tell their master. He could have no one, even so-called friends, standing in his way. 

And so the man left and went back to the cabin. The other two just stared at Rayna’s body.

“We can’t stay here,” Hakur told them. “Let’s go.” 

They killed on the way up to the manor house, collecting more people to help as they did. They took whatever weapon they could, or just used their fists.

The revolt was in full swing. The bell atop the manor was ringing a warning. Fire blazed in the night, destroying Ben’s crops. Good. He didn’t deserve them if he had to use their work to get them. He didn’t deserve the considerable profit they granted him. 

Hakur found himself rushing into the manor alone. The others were taking care of the guards outside, though there would undoubtedly be more inside. Screaming and shouting burst into the silence of the house. 

Hakur had never actually been in the manor before. He wasn’t one of the house slaves, and wasn’t allowed anywhere near it. He could just imagine the atrocious things that happened here though, the poor slaves that Ben forced into his bed despite having a wife and daughter. He was a cruel, despicable man.

It felt like the bedrooms would be upstairs, so Hakur rushed up there first. He came to meet the wife and daughter in the hallway. Seething with rage, Hakur raised the shovel to strike, and the mother shielded her daughter with her body.

That stopped him. 

Were these two innocent? 

Hardly. They let Ben continue in his malice and cruelty. They let him get away with whatever he wanted. They let him hurt people.

But Hakur couldn’t do it. He couldn’t kill a child. 

“Get out of my way,” he ordered. Oh, it felt good to give an order, to have such strong emotion in his voice without a whip falling on him for it. 

“Stay away from my family.”

Ben’s voice was surprisingly calm. It made the hairs on the back of Hakur’s neck stand straight. If he’d still had his wings, his feathers would have puffed out.

“You,” Hakur spat, turning to face him, shovel still in hand. Ben had guards with him, about five, it looked like. They surrounded him, two holding torches to light the hallway. He stood in the middle with his arms crossed.

“You don’t sound overly concerned,” Hakur said. 

“Oh, I’m not,” Ben told him. He stepped forward, and so the guards moved with him. “I know you can’t kill a woman and a child.”

“I can,” Hakur said, though his voice came out weaker than he’d meant it to. “Rayna is dead by my hand.” 

Ben clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Poor thing. She really was a good bed mate.”

That made Hakur furious. He rushed at Ben, emotion overtaking him, vision going red.

And that’s how the guards got him. The shovel was torn from his hands and he was knocked down to the floor by multiple blows. The guards used clubs, not swords. Ben hadn’t planned on killing the leader of the revolt. 

“You know, you might be more trouble than you’re worth,” Ben said. He crouched down and took Hakur’s chin in his hand, forcing him to look up at him. It was awful. His shoulders and back were hurting from the blows of the guards. One leg might have been broken.

“Might?” Hakur asked, gasping.

“Yes, I could kill you,” Ben said. “I should kill you.” He let go of him. “But death is too good for you.” He rose, nodded to the guards. “Take him to the stockade. I think he needs a reminder of who’s in charge.”

“No!” Hakur shrieked. All he knew in the stockade was pain, whips and flails and clubs raining blows on him. What would happen to him now that he had failed?

That’s when it truly hit him.

He’d failed. 

So horribly, so tragically. There had been no point to all of this. Rayna’s death had meant nothing. 

But he’d had to do it. He’d had to. He’d planned on getting out using any means necessary. 

Hakur was screaming as he was pulled up from the floor and manhandled down the stairs, new wounds screaming with him. Then he was outside, and in the clear night, could see the revolt’s damage. 

Slaves had been taken down by the guards outside, and some were still fighting, struggling for their lives and their freedom. 

“Kill no one!” Ben shouted. He grabbed Hakur by the hair. “Keep fighting, and he gets it!”

The fighting abruptly ceased. It appeared that these slaves had more compassion than Hakur did.

And despite that, despite the fighting stopping, Hakur was clubbed upside the head. He fell with a yell, and would have tried to get up, but his world was spinning. The last thing he saw was the club coming straight for his face.

[devilherself666]

Japan at last

Master List.

As the plane landed on the ground after hours, Jimmy yawned from the long nap he had taken, as he stepped off the plane, and looked around. “This is not home.” He spoke. Chester nodded softly. “We will not understand us, if we do not learn their language.” He spoke. Jimmy looked at chester. “Oh you are fucking kidding right?” He asked, and Chester shook his head. “They will not understand us either.” He spoke. Jimmy rubbed his face in frustration. “I do not have time to learn a stupid language!” He spoke. As the rest of the group got off the plane, Alice looked at them. “I know a little Japanese.” She spoke and Jimmy raised an eyebrow. “I am not even going to ask. Let's just get into a hotel. Alice, you do the talking and make sure you get the best rooms, rather than the first thing I do here is kill someone.” He spoke, and they all walked to the limo, and put their stuff down inside the trunk and rode to the best hotel in Japan. 

When they arrived, they all got their stuff and went inside, as Jimmy looked at Alice pushing her up to the man behind the desk. “Hell, can I have eight rooms please?” Alice asked in Japanese, as the man nodded slightly. Handing her the keys to the room. “1,547,900 Yen.” The man spoke, Jimmy looked at Alice, as she took him the price he would have to give him in his Russian Ruble. Jimmy gave the man ten thousand dollars. The man went to protest but Chester shook his head, and Alice looked at the man. “For your life, do not say anything.” She spoke. The man just nodded, as they walked up to their rooms, while Chester held Jimmy and his own bag. 

“Now that I am here, I need to find out the place where my brother is, he can’t be no later than nineteen years of age.” Jimmy spoke, as he leaned on the wall. “I am sure we will find him.” Chester spoke and Callum cackled like a gremlin. “Oh god so many people dressed up as anime men! Ugh! I am having a gang bang tonight!” He cheered and Roux smacked him upside the head, as May was covering Remi's ears. “Virgin ears Callum! Keep it that way!” Roux spat and Jimmy rolled his eyes. “I do not give a shit what you do, but you get HIV because you can’t use a condom, or AIDs, I will kill you. At that point you would be nothing but a dead weight just waiting to die.” he spoke as Callum nodded. “Condom it is!” He spoke.

They walk out the elevator, and Alice hands everyone their keys. “I do not give a shit what you do while we are here, but I call. You come, you got that?” He asked. They all nodded. “Yes sir!” They spoke as they all ran to their rooms, and Jimmy walked to his with Chester. Unlocking the door, he sat down on the bed, as Chester shut the door. “Jimmy, all she told you was that he was in Japan, that wasn’t much to go on. So why come now?” He asked and Jimmy rolled his eyes. “I have a reason to get out of that shit hole, I am going to take it. Plus, running in Russia isn’t fun anymore when everyone is scared of you and wants to die.” He spoke honestly and Chester nodded in agreement. “Well I am sure glad we found that note then if you were getting bored.. Being bored is never ever good for you.” Chester spoke and Jimmy nodded his head side to side, agreeing. “Yeah, I thought about burning a town down, but eh their screams wouldn’t have been known, plus. If my dad is looking for my brother too, then if I am in Japan. The better chance I have to be able to catch him and kill him.” He spoke to Chester and He nodded slightly. “Well I see you have a solid plan.” He spoke. Jimmy nodded. “I do, I regret not knowing anything when I was sixteen, I could have killed him then, but now. Now I know everything there is to know about this murder thing, so he will pay for what he did to me and my mother.” He spoke and Chester sat on the bed. “Are you sure you are alright?” Chester asked and Jimmy pushed him off his bed. “Out.” He spat and Chester nodded, as he grabbed his stuff and left the room, to go to his room. 

Jimmy laid back on the bed and looked at the ceiling. The thought of his father getting a hold of his brother scared him more than anything. When Tony killed his wife, Jimmy’s mother. He got lonely, bored, restless. No one to take it out on, but one person. His son. Nights, and days on in. Jimmy would be tied to a bed, being only seven. “Let me go!” He yelled at his father. “No, you are my toy now!” he laughed. “No I am not! I am your son!” He yelled, tried pulling on the strings, but nothing was working.. “Too bad!” He spoke, as he would rape Jimmy for hours, until their was blood on the bad. The thing was. Jimmy felt nothing, but he saw the face when his father was about to cum, and he hated it. Jimmy didn’t feel the pain, but he heard the groaning, and the moaning, the slapping of his own fathers ball hitting his ass, he heard what was happening. He just didn’t feel it. 

That happened everyday for nine years, until his father finally left when Jimmy turned sixteen, because he was bored of Jimmy, and wanted someone else. Tony liked the thrill of it being someone that was in his bloodline, someone who was willing to scream, and because Jimmy didn’t scream. He thought Kaida might. 

Jimmy breathed out deeply, as he plugged his phone in, and laid on the bed already being in comfortable clothes, he turned on the television, as he texted Chester. “Come here.”, the door opened and Jimmy patted the other side of the bed, and Chester shut the door, locking it, before sitting down beside him. Chester didn’t ask, he already knew Jimmy wanted him to stay, Jimmy put his head on Chesters shoulders and sighed deeply. “I need to go into town, get some things. I can’t be asked.” He spoke, Chester chuckled. “Get some rest, we will go later.” He spoke honestly and Jimmy nodded. “Okay.”