Tumgik
#CW: assault
seahorsepencils · 1 year
Text
can't stop thinking about the red herring of Higgins taking Will to the Red Light District — no explanation of what they'll be doing, just a suggestive "tonight's the night young William here becomes a man" — and how it ultimately parallels Jamie's story about his father.
and as bleak as Jamie's story is, there's something oddly wholesome and reparative about the fact that Will's night ostensibly ends with a consensual threesome?
441 notes · View notes
lillywhitefield · 2 months
Text
I am absolutely biased but I think S2 Ep 5 of Call the Midwife is one of the best episodes of television ever.
Between the abortion scene cut together with Trixie painting her red nails before she goes on a date with a man who assaults her, the longing of Sister Bernadette for a different life, and (here's the bias lol) the hand-kissing scene with Dr. Turner, it is just so brilliantly done.
33 notes · View notes
ladyveronikawrites · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
LOST IN THE CONCRETE JUNGLE
CHAPTER TWO
Bad Omens x Star Wars
Pairing: Zebastian (Noah Sebastian) x F!Reader
CW: assault, blindfolding
Summary: You are the perfect senator's daughter- next in line to become his aide to learn everything about the Galactic Senate. But on your 21st birthday, your perfect life changes forever when the mysterious masked man you met at the nightclub was not who you thought he was.
A/N: POV switching from second to first occurs often in the story. Shout out to my amazing beta team @mysticdoodlez, @cyrusunderscore, and @nerdraging4point0 your insight and cheerleading has been invaluable.
Word Count: 1.4k
Crossposted: Wattpad & A03
Cast list
May the Force be with you✨
Tumblr media
Bodies of humans and aliens press against yours as Skylar pulls you in closer. Your head begins to feel dizzy as you sway to the music on the dancefloor. Stars speckle your vision as sticky sweat drips down your back. Breathing becomes heavy as you notice Skylar’s flushed cheeks and shimmering eyes. A delirious giggle trickles through your lips as you release all abandonment, raise your hands high and grind against whoever is nearby. 
So this is what it feels like to be carefree
“Are you ok?” Skylar yells into your ear over the music. 
“Yeah?” Your brows furrowed in confusion when suddenly your legs become weak. 
Strong arms grasp your arm and pull you up. One was warm and the other one was cold metal. You spin around and stumble into a firm chest. Flustered, you step back and peer up to find soft brown eyes framed by short brown hair, looking down at you. His grin was wide and dazzling.  
"Are you ok?" His soft voice managed to cut through the noise.
Your breath is shaky when you respond “Yeah, I think so.”
Skylar hooks her arm into yours as she says “Why don’t we sit at the bar for a bit.” As Sky leads you to the bar, you turn to thank the stranger but he disappears into the sea of bodies on the dancefloor.
“I heard you took quite a spell on the dancefloor,” the bartender says holding back a laugh. His long almost black hair waves in sync with the glass as he slides a bright iridescent blue drink your way. “This tonic should help you feel better.”
Skylar starts to protest but he puts his hands up to stop her. “I promise it’s safe, I’ve been working here for years and I’ve seen a lot of things. I know how to care for my patrons.” 
You turn to Sky to search her face for the answer. “If something happens to her..” Sky trails off as her eyes turn dark and protective.
“I swear to the stars above your friend is in no harm. The name’s Revan,” he says charmingly as he cleans an empty glass. “Please come to me if you need anything.”
Skylar hands you the glass and you knock the drink back. A bright burst of flavor you can’t quite describe bubbles down your throat. It leaves your breath minty and relief instantly floods your body. 
”How are you feeling?” Skylar asks as you set the glass down.
 “So much better,” you sigh as Skylar’s wrist comm beeps.
“Shit, we need to get going.” Skylar looks down at her wrist comm.
“I need to freshen up then I’ll meet you outside,” you say as Skylar helps you from your seat.
“Are you sure?” Her eyes are filled with concern. You squeeze her hands to reassure her. 
“Ok,” Skylar lets out a reluctant breath. “If you aren’t outside in 15 minutes someone is dead meat.” 
She is serious in her threat but the corners of her mouth turn up as she chuckles softly dissolving the tension. Her steps are still in tune with the music as she leaves and soon the only way you can discern her from the crowd is through her signature electric blue hair. 
The stark cold air whips past you causing your hair to twirl around you as you make your way outside of the club. You clasp your elbows to try and keep warm as you search the alley for Skylar. 
“You look cold.” A familiar soft voice comes from behind you. Before you have time to turn around to identify the voice, a rough leather jacket is pulled onto your bare shoulders but his large hands don’t leave their place. Your body tenses to the sudden intrusion. One warm and one… metal?
“It’s just me, the guy that saved you on the dancefloor,” he chuckles. You try to turn to face him but he grips you tighter keeping you in place. 
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” His soft words become sinister. Fear spreads through your body as you tense to his touch. 
“Ah, there she is,” another voice cuts in.
“Revan?” You whisper as your eyes widen and the pressure on your shoulders is lifted. You turn swiftly on your heels to find the two men dressed in all black with masks and hoods covering their faces. They follow you like a Manka Cat stalking its prey.
“W-what do you want?” Your voice shakes. 
You try to negotiate with them. You don’t want any more attention drawn to you. What if they find out who I am and who my father is? What if my father finds out? He can’t find out. 
They stalk closer to you as your back hits the cold concrete wall.
“Are you lost, girl? What are you doing here? You don’t belong here.” Revan purrs. 
Frozen with fear, you watch as Revan closes the space between you and swiftly grasps both of your wrists simultaneously pinning you to the wall, crushing your wrist comm to pieces. 
“You never answered me,” Revan growls as he leans down to nip at your exposed collarbone. Even through the mask, you can feel the warmth of his breath and sharp teeth. 
“I-it’s m-my birthday” you stutter as he trails his nose up your jaw inhaling deeply. Your mind begins to race. What is going on?! Where is Skylar? I can’t fight the two of them and they know it.  
All of a sudden, rough fabric brushes against your lips. You squeeze your eyes tight as your body turns rigid. Just as quickly as he kisses you, his lips vanish for yours. You open your eyes to find Revan on his back on the ground clutching his jaw. A fury of black whirls around you as the mysterious person fights off your attackers. In the moonlight, something shiny and metallic catches your eye. Wait, is that a sword? You gap at the thought of someone using such an ancient weapon, but it seems to be working. As quickly as it all started…the frenzy stopped. The mysterious man too, was clothed head to toe in black. A black mask covers his nose, mouth, and neck. His short brown hair is drenched in sweat. The longer pieces in the front stick to his forehead. 
“Leave her alone.” His growl strikes every bone in your body yet sparks an unfamiliar feeling that tingles your core. He sheaths the sword to his belt as the others retreat.
“Are you ok?” the mysterious man asks while keeping his distance. With your mouth still gaping open all you can muster is a small nod.
“Are you hurt?” You shake your head and squeeze your eyes shut. I should have never left the house, you berate yourself.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he says while taking another slow step closer.
“That’s what one of them said before and then he violated me,” you squeak out in a whisper. 
“Can I take you home?” he asks putting his hands up in surrender.
“No, I-I can’t go home,” you muster. “My parents can’t find out I snuck out of the house.” You can feel your cheeks warm with shame. You turn away so he can’t see how embarrassed you are. 
“Please just leave me alone,” you say to the wall unable to meet his gaze. “My friend will take me to her house.”
“I’m sorry, but your friend is gone. No one is looking for you,” Genuine concern fills his voice. “May I take you to my house? I promise to keep my distance. My bodyguard will make sure you are safe.” 
Shock and desperation spread across your face as you turn to face him. Your mouth opens and closes and opens again like a scalefish as you ruminate on the offer. Subconsciously, you look down at your wrist comm to find it broken. For krike's sake. You can’t call for help. And your parents cannot find out you snuck out of the house and into the prohibited industrial sector of Coruscant. You sigh in defeat about to accept. 
“Before you agree or decline, I must tell you the only condition is that you must either be blindfolded or unconscious. I take my privacy very seriously, albeit too seriously. I need a verbal yes or no.”
Your mouth opens and closes as your brain processes the racing thoughts in your head. 
The thought of you being blindfolded next to him makes your heart race and butterflies fill your stomach. The unusual request is exhilarating. “Yes,” you breathe out. The stranger unties a blood-red ribbon around the hilt of his sword.
“Close your eyes,” he softly commands. 
Reluctantly, you do as you are told. His piercing dark eyes are the last thing you see.
Tumblr media
tysm for reading❤️🗡️
👑Royal Readers👑
@deathblacksmoke @mysticdoodlez @itsmrsfuentes @tearfallpixie
@cncohshit @circle-with-me @blackveilomens @kingdomof-omens @cookiesupplier
@agravemisstake @whenthesummerdies @iknownothingpeople @nerdraging4point0
@dominuslunae @xxrainstorm @lyschko666 @kingdxmxfcxrds @the-ancient-fae
@measuredingold @to-be-written @lacktoesandtoddlerants @koskeepsake @blackveilomens @monotoniscreaming @trvshdxddy @emzandthevoid @midnight-eternals
@th4t-em0-k1d @knivesforapro @alastriaa
@collapsedglasshouses @snarkysolaris @anameunmusical @jakeygvf21 @caitcoreeeee
@lihlelecrizzi
If you want to be part of the my Royal Readers👑 (tag list) please fill out this form
23 notes · View notes
effie-trinket · 3 months
Text
Okay but Sally talking about Medusa and sympathizing with her parallels to Sally likely experiencing assault while with Gabe ??
Tumblr media
23 notes · View notes
restartheartvn · 9 months
Text
How Blaire found Out
Written: Nov 2022
I found out Ezra’s mom was abusing him in one of the most vicious moments I have ever witnessed. I… had an idea of what was going on but he never said anything. I didn’t want to assume. But after he came to my place with his back in tatters and covered in blood… I was hoping to god I was wrong. But… like I said, I found out. The hard way. It was one night when my mom and I spontaneously decided to drop by, and fuck I’m so glad we did. Well… It wasn’t that spontaneous. I got a call from Eliana and I just heard muffled sobbing over the phone and Ezra wasn’t responding, so I figured it would be good to go check on the house.
I was walking up to the house when I heard shouting, I just assumed it was the TV but… fuck I wasn’t prepared for what I saw when I opened the door. I watched as a vase came into contact with his forehead. He didn’t duck, he didn’t move, he just stared forward. I let out a shriek as my mom came barreling in the door. It all happened so quickly… My mom slammed his mom against a wall, Eliana was sobbing in the doorframe, Ezra was trying to pry my mom off of his. It was a mess. My legs were trembling as I got close to him, pulling him off of my mom.
“Ezra stop!” I cried, desperate to get him to focus on his bleeding. He needed to get his head checked, there was so much blood. Fuck there was so much blood. He was weak, Ezra’s never weak. But even I was able to pull him over to the couch. I managed to get them to sit down as I moved his hair out of the way. This was one of the last times he ever had short hair. My hands were trembling as I looked at the cut, it was deep but cleanable at home. He kept trying to move my hands off of his face as he tried to argue with my mom and tried to tell her to stop, that it wasn’t a big deal.
I frantically scanned the room and saw Eliana still crying in the doorframe, all her weight was hanging on the door and she looked like she was about to pass out. Shit. Shit shit shitshitshit. I ran over to her, quickly scooping her up in my arms. She was so frail. Fuck. I rushed her over to Ezra’s side and listened in as my mom screeched in their mom’s face. She was coughing and wheezing in my arms as I reached into her pockets for her inhaler. As she breathed in her inhaler I brushed her hair out of her face, trying to tell her it’ll all be okay soon. My mom was still shouting.
“What the FUCK SUSAN?” She cried as I ran into the bathroom, searching for their bandages and cleaning supplies. “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? JUST BECAUSE YOU HAVE A SON???” Is what I heard as I rushed back to the couch. Eliana was now grabbing onto her brother's arm for dear life as he winced in pain. They still managed to smile at her through all of this. My eyes watered as I made it damn certain that I’d ask him how long this was going on after all of this was over.
“He’s a disgrace! A worthless useless piece of—” I heard a slap, my eyes snapped up to see his mother holding her cheek and my mother furiously looming over her.
“Your son is nothing less than perfect and you as a mother should feel that. He’s not the damn disgrace, you are Susan.” I looked back to Ezra, who looked entirely unphased by what was happening, their gaze focused on Ellie and wiping her tears with their thumb. I quickly began to clean his wound, trying to stop the bleeding where I could. Our mothers were still arguing, Ezra was trying to stop all the arguing as I tried to clean his wound, and Eliana was crying and coughing as she clung to him.
It felt like a nightmare that ended all too slowly. I never want to think about it again.
38 notes · View notes
rheaitis · 8 months
Note
thoughts on a what if arjuna had been a girl scenario? i feel like she’d somehow still manage to outshine everyone else and end up gaining the attention of karna, however better or worse it may manifest in this world…
ahahahaha so MANY content warnings, you guys! (implied incest, assault, canonical levels of violence)
“Let me get the wheel out of this mire, and I’ll fight you,” Vasusen pleads, his eyes on the ground, his hands scrabbling to hold up the wheel. “I will duel with you, only wait.”
Almost, almost Anagha heeds… not his words but his voice, his desperate sunken eyes. He looks grimed, without the golden armour that had been so warm against her skin, when… He looks defeated already, mud and blood smeared on his arms, his scarred chest. That year before Krishn came for her, she had grown as adept in the use of a dagger as ever with a sword, but Vasusen had just laughed and wrapped her in his stifling embrace, had crooned comfort at her while she raged and wept and flew at him with knives, pins, nails.
Some other year, perhaps. Some other lifetime. But it is the seventeenth day of the Kurukshetra War, and all pity has long since bled out of Anagha. She scarcely needs Krishna’s hand tight on her hip, his voice urgent in her ear.
“You killed my nephew,” she tells him, quiet under the din of the battlefield. “That child, I held him in my hands when he came out of his mother, I wiped his nostrils clean for his first breath. I wrapped his corpse to put him on the pyre. Do you think you deserve mercy, a good death? Answer me!”
He looks up and his eyes catch on her face, recognition flooding in. “Princess,” he whispers, in the voice that followed her into and woke her from nightmares, so different in the crowded daylight. The sun is in his eyes, a benediction on his silvering hair when he closes them. “No. For the boy, and for what I did to you, I deserve whatever you mete out.”
It is so easy to kill him, in the end, kneeling in the mud with his throat bared. So easy Anagha is bewildered at first by Krishn taking Gandiv from her, easing her to a seat on the floor of their chariot, chafing warmth into her hands.
“If there is guilt in this, it is mine to bear,” he is saying when she can hear again, in the urgent tone that means he has said it before. “Mine for leaving you there, mine for leaving you in the forest with your brothers, mine for letting you shoulder many griefs. Not yours, never yours. My beloved friend, my brave one, your deeds will resound down the ages. Up, now. Up and to camp before the Kauravas scramble into order.”
Anagha retrieves Gandiv, stands alert as Krishn drives them back into the welcoming arms of the Pandav host. It is no great thing, to have slain Vasusen even with guile, when she has felled Bhishma already. There is no reason to feel bile rise in her throat, no place for the tears with which she had watered Prince Devavrat’s feet.
*
“You have,” says Shakuni, “other siblings, O King. The wise Sahadev, the wondrous Nakul, the valiant Anagha. Shall you not hazard them and win back your wealth, your legions, your brother Vrikodar?”
Yudhisthir, trapped, bets their younger brothers, loses them both, pales till the veins stand out on his shaking hands, his sweating brow. 
“I hazard,” he says, and stoppers his mouth, darting a glance at Bhim in his shackles, at the twins. “I hazard…”
“Anagha, daughter of Pandu, the unvanquished,” she says into the waiting silence, going to her knees at his back. “He hazards me. What do you put against it?”
Better her, for whatever cruelty their cousins can concoct, than Panchali. Better Anagha’s calloused hands and broad shoulders and habit of suffering, than Draupadi’s ferocious fragility, her beauty like a flame nestled in an eggshell.
Vasusen grins and whispers to Duryodhan, who laughs. “For a woman forty and unwed, lingering in her brother’s household with a barren womb? Only the chance to retrieve what he has already lost.”
Yudhisthir loses again; hazards Panchali; loses again. A servant returns rebuffed from the women’s quarters. Dushasan goes himself, returns with precious cargo, hauling her along with a cruel hand twisted into her hair.
Panchali wins. Bloody and battered, she shames their elders into three boons, frees herself and her husband and…
“Give me my sister-in-law,” she says. “Give me Pritha’s daughter and we will go quietly away.”
Vasusen scoffs. “Oh, where? To Panchal where your brothers will arm their men? To Dwaraka where the Yadavas will bristle at the insult? No, Yajnaseni, you cannot sail your husband’s kin safe across the rivers of misfortune. But you may rest assured, glorious one, that she will not be neglected.”
*
In the end it is Vasusen who catches them. Too late for it to affect the swayamvara, too early to not cause new chaos.
“A woman to wed a woman,” he laughs, “a new thing indeed is the King of Panchal showing us.”
The assembled princes and priests, already wounded, break into bemusement like a beehive swarming. On the dais Panchali’s eyes go wide and wounded, her brother’s hand tight on her arm.
“No, no,” Jarasandh scoffs, “you younglings have such short memories. He tricked Hiranyavarman ten years ago, brought in a wife for his eldest daughter. Ha! Is this a woman, truly? What an eye you have, boy.”
Anagha darkens under the sudden appraising gaze of so many men. Even the princes of Panchal, who should know better, even her mother’s nephew, who should know her, even… especially Vasusen, whom she had once foolishly thought of as her friend.
To the side Bhim stills into a predatory stance, willing to break their way out of this hall. Foolish of them, to have come at all, against their mother’s admonition, their brother’s advice.
Anagha laughs, head back and feet planted, her voice rising into the clear registers she forsook for her slight disguise. 
“So,” she says, still smiling, “I have won a bride for my brother. What of it? Is such a thing unknown in Aryavarta? Didn’t everyone hear at their mother’s knee the tale of Prince Bhishm’s great valour? Only us? Well then, O Kings, hear now that Pandu’s children have followed their forebear in this too, and tell it to your children.”
Everything moves after that almost too quickly for comprehension: the Yadavas at their back, and the delighted smile that almost hides the shadow in Panchali’s gaze, and the chariot driven by Prince Dhrishtadyumn himself that brings them to their little hut in its clearing.
“Come away now,” Krishn whispers after her mother has spent her first bout of rage and turned all-smiles to Princess Draupadi and her twin. “Let your brothers fend for themselves a little while; we have much to talk about, you and I.”
*
“A man such as this, to match valour with the heiress of Pandu? A man of no known antecedents, no proven deeds?”
The scorn in Acharya Kripam’s voice is deadly, thunderous amplified by the acoustics of the stadium. Anagha recognises in her own body the flinch that overtakes his, though these are not the words they use for her. 
Duryodhan shouts defiance, blusters and makes promises, sends servants running.
“I will battle him,” she says, overlapping Duryodhan, silencing him. “I will contend with him. What, shall I ask every stranger in a hunt or a fight their ancestry before I string my bow? I spent my childhood playing with the children of sages and scavengers alike, will you bar me now from testing my mettle against this man?”
“Princess Anagha is wilful,” Acharya Kripam says, and this time it is she who flinches. She could recite it with him, the litany of her deviations from docility that has only grown with her.
“Daylight’s wasting,” Bhim drawls, coming up to put his bulk behind her. “Let them fight or send them off the field, Acharya; the commoners are getting restive.”
“Let them fight,” Duryodhan urges, “he will be a prince by nightfall, whoever his parents might be. Come, Acharya Dron arranged such a spectacular show for his favourite, will you truly disappoint the spectators?”
*
Anagha is in the hayloft, nursing her wrist, hiding only a very little from the crowd out looking for her. If she is found before she can feign being free of pain nobody will let her pick up a sword for months and months, and a bow never. Acharya Kripam is already against it, and his comments make Mother purse her lips into a thin line and frown. She’ll fall behind everyone if she’s held back so long, and it’s just a little pain, after all, her wrist isn't even interesting colours like Duryodhan’s was last month when he fell out of the tree Bhim was shaking, just swollen and… probably a little purple? It’s difficult to see, in the dimness and against her dark skin.
“Princess,” someone calls up from the stable floor. “Come down, they’re gone to check the gardens near the Durga temple.”
Anagha crawls out from behind the hay bale and looks over the edge: a youth in the livery of the royal stables smiles at her, his hands full of cloth and little pots. As old as Yudhishtir at least, probably a few years older still. Almost a man grown; adults were variable in their priorities, and so many of them wanted to curry favour.
“No,” Anagha tells him, and sits where she can keep an eye on him. If he leaves to fetch someone she’ll have to scramble down the ladder and sprint up past the kitchens to the fishponds: Bhim has a blind there that nobody else knows about, not even Yudhishtir. It will be painful but she can manage.
“I have liniment,” the boy wheedles. “I heard you’ve hurt your hand in training.”
“Horse liniment?”
The boy laughs, as though that isn’t perfectly logical. “No, Princess. Liniment for humans; we get hurt sometimes working with the horses.”
He has a nice laugh, and—Anagha peers down at him again—his eyes are deep-set and kind, like Mother’s. And her wrist does rather hurt.
“What’s your name?”
“Vasu,” the boy says, “but I’m nobody, Princess.”
This is obviously a lie, even if he means, as they all mean, that he’s nobody she needs to bother about. But she’ll let him keep his secret if he’ll keep hers.
“I won’t come down,” she temporises, “but you can come up here.”
14 notes · View notes
kores-pomegranate · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
Honestly, I find this such a beautiful and heart wrenching representation of how art can help someone process trauma. Sometimes pain is too deep and profound for words, but it can move through you and into the art. Often, it does whether we want it to or not. The creations I find most moving are the ones people make when they’re processing something they don’t even know about yet, and it’s just there in front of them on the canvas, screaming to be understood.
93 notes · View notes
nitrateglow · 6 months
Text
me talking about rat phantom some more
Tumblr media
The audio commentary for Argento's Phantom was pretty good. The two historians recording it actually think the film is underrated and kept describing it as "tongue in cheek" and misunderstood.
I'll give the movie this: it commits to its sleazy weirdness and it certainly can't be accused of treading the same water when it comes to adapting POTO.
I still have my issues though and honestly, they've less to do with the general campiness (which I actually love) and more to do with the way the Phantom and Christine are written.
Christine just seems flaky and dense rather than naive. She flip flops between wanting the Phantom and wanting Raoul, and while I think it's meant to come off as inner conflict between the romantic world of creative outsiders vs. the conventional world, it's not executed that well and Christine often comes off like a puppet pulled along by the needs of the plot rather than a fully motivated character.
As for the Phantom, I feel like the strongest takes on the character balance menace and sympathy-- Lon Chaney and Robert Englund did this best. The Phantom is a tragic figure-- lonely, outcast, craving love. However, he's also a vengeful murderer with a possessive streak regarding Christine. It's a delicate balance and I think Sands' Phantom oversteps it when he straight up assaults Christine and then the movie just acts like this is him being intense and feral and not going over a moral point of no return. It's hard to feel that sorry for him when he dies after that.
6 notes · View notes
deafmangoes · 8 months
Text
Another set of DS9 thoughts! Less cheery ones, mind.
Tumblr media
S6E23, "Profit and Lace" is... a bit uncomfortable to say the least. For those unfamiliar with DS9, the lady in the purple dress up there is Quark, the Ferengi bartender, who several hours ago was a cis male and has been forced to become female for shenanigans.
Back in the nineties/early 00's I suspect this was peak humour but now it's a bit... oof. I hesitate to say it's transphobic, but it's not exactly positive either. It's also pretty misogynistic, in a guise of trying to be progressive.
So, brief context: Ferengi are a hyper-capitalistic race (capitalism is quite literally their major religion) and deeply, institutionally misogynist. Ferengi women (always referred to in a derogatory tone as 'females') are forbidden from wearing clothing in public, of participating in public life, property ownership or even of holding profit at all. This is mostly played off as "look how backward they are", but also forms the spine for a few episodes - this one included.
In this episode the Grand Nagus, Zek (the elected head of state for the Ferengi Alliance) has changed the law, permitting women to wear and own clothes. This caused such a riot that he was immediately deposed in a coup, and flees to DS9 with Quark's mother Ishka (the true brains behind everything he does) to enlist Quark and Rom's help to put him back in power.
Initially the plan was simply to have a meeting with all the major Ferengi leaders and Ishka explain, quite simply, that ignoring a staggering 53% of the Ferengi population for the sake of misogynistic tradition was ridiculous - think of all the profit to be made! They would then reinstate Zek, hooray.
But... a fierce argument between her and her very traditional son, Quark, causes her to suffer cardiac arrest (Bashir mentions off-hand that she needed a new heart - so actually she pretty much straight-up died). To go ahead with the plan and thwart the machinations of Jeffrey Combs other DS9 persona, Liquidator Brunt, Quark is... pretty forcefully transitioned into a woman. It is strongly implied later in the episode that this was a complete surgical transition, genitals and all. That itself suggest some interesting things about the status of transgender people in the Federation, but that might be for another post.
The whole thing is played up for humour as Quark gets all 'emotional' from his new hormones, and his brother Rom gives him surprisingly insightful tips on how to act a woman (drawing stares from everyone else, including his Bajoran wife. Headcanon is Rom's genderqueer but that's maybe also for another post!)
Quark (under the pseudonym 'Lumba') meets with the sole Ferengi businessman who turned up and convinces him of Zek's (really, Ishka's) proposed reforms. Then... the businessman suggests they take dessert in his quarters and in a genuinely deeply uncomfortable scene, attempts to sexually assault Quark.
Again, the whole thing is played for humour. Haha, look at how uncomfortable Quark is about this genuine rape threat. Haha. Hahaha.
It's even worse that Quark is forced to turn around and save face when Brunt arrives by kissing the businessman, and stripping for him.
But the day is saved, Quark is transitioned back and gets an awkward hug from Odo (who seems to have not done too well in the makeup department that day, but I digress).
What is there to really say about this episode? Quark is nearly raped, his dysphoria (and yes, he does get dysphoria) is brushed off, and the whole thing is treated like a funny haha joke. Oh, and to give us bookends, the episode opens with Quark extorting one of his employees for sex, and ends with him apologising for it (because his experience has taught him that women deserve better)... and then immediately changes his mind and chases after her as the credits roll.
I don't really know what was going on in the writing room that week, but... hell, guys. Chalk another notch on the "Rick Berman's a misogynistic asshole" board.
7 notes · View notes
Text
my father and my brother who do not understand the difference between abuse and love are terrifying. they want me to think differently. they tell me grow up and you will understand. they are the same. it is so easy to see from the outside that I will know it from the inside-out. I will see it from miles away and I will run. If it happens to me I will know and I will run. I have been around it for far too long to allow myself to confuse love and abuse for the same creature. They are not the same. You cannot allow yourself to delude yourself so thoroughly to confuse abuse and love for the same creature; abuse may wear love's face, but love could never fit in such a meek body such as abuse.
to be loved is to face hardship, yes. but to be loved is to not receive lashings and ridicule and hatred and vitriol, and screaming and assault and petrol and venom.
you do not work against your partner, you work with them.
how do i teach these men the difference? i fear that they are too far gone for me to interject into their relationships and take their hands and show them what love really means i fear they do not know or are incapable of it and that makes me sad. i suppose it'd make sense, then, why they never loved me. because to them abuse wears love's face. and they are the same creature. but it was never felt, no warm, loving embrace. simply the coldness of hurt. they were incapable of loving their partners so why would they love this child? this thing they are related to their blood flesh and bone mind and body it aches. for them and for what they took and what they never gave.
3 notes · View notes
songandflame · 5 months
Text
Headcanon;
Fantine has various scars across her body from various stages of her life. Her knees are marked by childhood spent on the streets and grazing them across cobbles. Her hands are soft, but there are callouses on her fingertips from working as a seamstress— her hands are also not unfamiliar with the labour intensive demands of farmwork.
Her most noticeable scar is hidden amongst the hair of her left eyebrow. It's not overly obvious from a distance, but up close it clearly runs through her eyebrow and disrupts the direction of hair of that particular brow. It stops just above her brow and has faded well enough, but it is clear the scarring is paler than the skin around it.
This particular scar is a reminder of the lover she took in Montreuil-sur-Mer. Most of the time she was quick enough to block her face with her hands, but in this instance he managed to catch her face, splitting her brow in his anger.
Despite her time as a s.ex worker, this was ironically the worst injury she endured from a man— one who was supposed to love her at that. In retrospect, the understanding he was supposed to be a lover is what made the situation even worse.
For a while she suffered swelling around her eye as it healed; luckily it healed well enough that once the hair grew back, it was somewhat disguisable, but still obvious enough to encourage questions should someone spot it.
4 notes · View notes
jiangwanyinscatmom · 2 years
Note
Like, I have no trouble seeing WWX as a good guy, or even the least bad in the cultivation world, but if he can subject a man to forced autocannibalism and orchestrate a scenario where a woman is made to put her mouth around his penis before biting it off, then he’s far from an ideal guy imo. There are things no one deserves no matter what they’ve done. Mxtx could have done more to distinguish his actions from the way XY subjects people to cannibalism and JGY forces women to rape his father.
I've answered a bit of this before, I will repost my response as well as respond further to my own view as to why I don't condemn him the same as Jin Guangyao and Xue Yang. As well as how it is a fandom fallacy he did the act to force Wang Lingjiao to do anything.
About the supervisory office:
First, let me at least mark the difference between “gui dao” and “mo dao” as it will be important for the courier station antics.
魔道 (Mo Dao): Lit. Devil’s way/path/truth
鬼道 (Gui Dao): The Ghost’s/twisted/sly, way/path/truth
心 (Xin) Soul/center/core/heart
心魔 (Xin Mo): Devil, Soul/center/core/heart
鬼 (Gui) lit. A ghost/demon/crafty/cursed
With these in mind, the way Mo Dao is crafted as a cultivator, is that you have to have a center/a core, that is innately tuned to be crafted as evil, hence, a corrupted core. To use real mo dao, it needs to come from within to manipulate, not from outer external references, it is the corruption of the self and the still living to craft evil beings.
To use real gui dao, it comes from the dead, the ghosts and the supernatural, in other words not of much of the self. It is using the outside forces of death and non-living beings to use techniques. It is simply using what already existed before to craft an entity.
Now, on to the Wang Lingjiao and Wen Chao scenes and why these distinctions are important and it was just Wei Wuxian manipulating the two’s already heightened paranoia’s to exasperate the negative energy they fostered between themselves.
1:
In that moment, as soon as she opened the chest, she was able to peer inside.
It was none of her beloved treasures, but the body of a pale, curled-up child!
2:
She snuck within the room once again, found a long clothing pole, and flipped the chest over. Inside of it, her treasure sat peacefully.
There was no child whatsoever.
Wang Lingjiao sighed in relief. With the pole in her hands, she squatted down. Just as she was about to brace herself, she suddenly realized that two bright spots were shining underneath her bed.
It was a pair of eyes.
That pale child from before lay prone under her bed, staring into her own.
3:
As he turned around, the rest of what he wanted to say stuck within his throat. He was staring at a woman in front of his door.
The woman’s features were broken, as though they had been smashed and then pieced together haphazardly. Her eyes stared in two different directions; the left upward and the right downward. Her entire face was horrendously disfigured.
Wen Chao, with some difficulty, was able to recognize her from her scanty robe. It was Wang Lingjiao!
4:
Still on the ground, Wang Lingjiao immediately picked up one of the stools legs, and frantically, she began stuffing it into her mouth, laughing all the while, “Fine, fine, I’ll eat it, I’ll eat it!
Haha, I’ll eat it!”
She had already stuffed a significant length of the stool leg down her throat!
Remember, that just before these confrontations Wang Lingjiao had already assumed that Wen Chao’s time was up as well as she herself making plans to run away. They had already turned on each other, as she was planning to move on to a more prospective target, and he wanting her out of the way as an annoyance.
As such, both have created a negative space for themselves, also, remember all of the talismans for protection that they had placed on the outside of the courier station, and their effects which had been reversed by Wei Wuxian. Their 风水(geomancy) physically and mentally has been disordered. Their harmony is broken. Thus, they have cultivated an outside force for Wei Wuxian to manipulate and turn the two against each other.
The above scenes are simply the inner hell they created from their own paranoia and negativity they trapped themselves in. Wei Wuxian only had to change a few character strokes on the protective talismans to sic them on each other while he was on the outside looking in.
5:
Wen Chao cried sharply in pain. It sounded piercing within the silence of the courier station.
Jiang Cheng asked, “Why is his voice so pitched?”
Wei Wuxian responded, “Of course it would sound like that with a certain something gone.“
Jiang Cheng replied in disgust, “You’re the one who took it? ”
Wei WuXian said, “It’s wretched if you think that. Of course I wasn’t the one who took it. It was bitten off by his woman when she went mad.”
There is no reason for Wei Wuxian to lie here, he has already proudly admitted to his tortures of Wen Chao before hand and his physical abuse against him and Wen Zhuliu. Wei Wuxian’s entire persona here was meant to be cruel and monstrous and he continued further torture of course, but it was added on to the existing abuse that Wen Chao and Wang Lingjiao cultivated together already.
So, no, anon, Wei Wuxian was not a rapist in any capacity here. He simply played dirty tricks to make these two ruin each other even more by themselves.
Now, to the second part of your ask. Personally, I am content with the way MXTX portrayed the act of his vengeance as being different than Jin Guangyao and Xue Yang. Because ultimately, when he did choose to do this, it was for all the violence these two (Wen Chao and Wang Lingjiao) reaped themselves, by the mandate of heaven and Chinese Buddhist belief, they have gathered their merits of "negativity" to face the consequences of their own actions. Cruelty is met with cruelty it has accrued. Nothing more, in Doaist terms, it is the way of nature righting it's harmony that humans are not made for. An eye for an eye.
The way of the world is for a human to be able to balance the self in it, and not for the world to cater to humanity. In this sense, the only ones who are in turmoil are those that have misrepresented their own words and actions (i.e. Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian).
And, as I said, Wei Wuxian took revenge on none other than those that had wronged him. To Daoist principal that is as it should be. As for Jin Guangyao and Xue Yang however, they did not leave it to just that, they steeped in obsession of hate. To be doaist, you cannot place obsession, of any sort, over the tranquility of your own choices and way. They continued to cause ruin without the give. This has already set them apart as lost to the moral code of a daoist.
Daoism is not about the call of morality humanity is, it is simply the act of natural actions. Good and bad, are human and a fight that is constant to make peace with.
45 notes · View notes
odthecryptid · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
My last art of 2023 is a little think I've wanted to make for awhile about my break from content creation, boundaries, and my biggest resolution for the New Year so I can come back to creation happy and unburdened.
This is a bit gritty, but it's been on my mind a long time and I wanted to talk about it a bit to remove the burden and more forward.
Also no more NSFW comms.
2 notes · View notes
restartheartvn · 1 year
Note
How would everyone react to coming across someone trying to kidnap/hurt sugar?
Oooo this one is a good one!!! Uhhh CW: kidnapping and assault
I will admit... Blaire would call for Ezra but she would 100% step in after sending him their text code that means danger.
This ended up getting really long so send in another one if you guys want Chris, Steph and Bess!
Ezra-
The person could barely get their hand clasped around your neck before you felt it release, a sharp cry emitting from them. Your legs gave out beneath you as you quickly scrambled to the nearest wall, desperate to get away from the person. As you turned your head you saw a sight you didn't expect. Ezra. Your dark haired engineer in a...suit? Did he just get off of work??? You shook your head, pulling your knees up and letting out a shaky breath, fumbling for your phone.
"That's not necessary sugarsnap." His voice was firm but gentle, causing your eyes to drift up to his face. You froze. He wasn't looking at you, the pit forming in your stomach made you glad he wasn't looking at you like that. There was silent rage behind his eyes as he bent your attackers arm behind their back so far you heard a pop. He has tightened as he threw the person to the ground, as if tossing a trash bag.
They groaned in response, but Ezra simply placed a foot on the back of their head. He looked utterly disgusted as he mumbled something to himself.
"What on earth possessed you to touch what's mine?"
The words didn't register in your head, too quiet for you to make out past the pounding of your heart. You flinched as he kicked the person in the stomach, causing them to hit the wall of the alleyway. You knew he was strong, he's 6'5" for fucks sake. But you didn't expect him to break their forearm like he was snapping a pencil. You looked away, bile rising in your throat as you heard the attacker scream.
Ezra would handle it. It's gonna be okay. You're safe now. You tried to repeat this to yourself over and over. You were startled to hear Ezra begin speaking again, but it sounded like he was on the phone now.
"Hey b—..." He paused, you could feel his eyes on you, "Send a car to my location I have an attempted kidnapper in my—" You could hear a frustrated sigh, he clearly was trying not to use certain words, "I've got my knee on this assholes back and they're cuffed... Yes... Just send a goddamn car, Daniel."
You hesitantly looked back at Ezra, his dark hair up in a ponytail. You hadn't noticed that before. He gave you a gentle smile as he pushed his knee against the person's back, they gave a cry before he pulled back a bit. His position was almost... Too good... You watched as he tugged slightly on the cuffs, checking to test their sturdiness on the person. He turned to you once more, his expression gentle as he spoke.
"You okay sugarcube?" He smiled as if he didn't just break someone's forearm, "That can be a really traumatic experience, make sure to take deep breaths." You stared at him, unsure of how to respond. But you felt hot tears streaming down your face as you heard a car pull up. Ezra glanced over at the two men who stepped out of the car and got off of your attacker, handing them over to the men.
After a few words were exchanged Ezra quickly went to you, crouching and looking into your eyes worriedly.
"Hey..." He cooed, cupping your face in his hands, "You're safe now. I'd never let anything happen to you. I'm sorry I was late, Sugar." His thumbs gently wiped away your tears. Ezra placed a soft kiss on your forehead as he pulled you into his arms, and you could feel the sobs wracking through your body as you held onto him tightly. All the adrenaline now gone, leaving the fear to hold your heart hostage.
Ezra's hand gently rubbed your back as you cried. He was rocking you gently and mumbling comforting words as he let you sob. You didn't know what to do, how this could've happened, but he was here. Holding you. Letting you cry. He rescued you. Saved you. You didn't need to know anything else. Ezra was here.
Blaire-
"Hey asshole!" You heard a familiar voice shout, the guy in front of you looking startled. "The fuck do you think you're doing?"
Blaire stepped between the two of you, placing her hand on your arm and pushing you behind her. Your face still stung from the man in front of you. She was visibly seething but you could feel her hand trembling against your skin as she pushed you back.
"You think it's cool to just put your fuckin hands on someone?" She snapped, the man clearly unsure what to do but he was quickly losing tolerance for the entire situation. "Go back to whatever fuckin hole your mommy let you crawl out of you polished piece of dog shit."
You stifled a laugh at this, you could practically hear the grin in her voice as she said that. The man grumbled and began walking away, once he was out of sight you looked at Blaire who collapsed against the wall. Her hands were trembling and she gave you a grin.
"Fuck dude, what the hell happened?" She tried to keep her tone cheery as she pulled you into her arms. "Asshole." She mumbled, you giggled at her continuance to insult the man as she was rubbing your back with her shaking hands. The two of you were still trembling when you heard quick footsteps rounding the corner of the alleyway, and a relieved sigh from your favorite man of the hour.
"Sorry I'm late. I came as soon as I could." Ezra smiled, stepping closer to the two of you, pulling you both into his arms. You noticed he smelt faintly of iron.
Sammy-
What you never expected from being slapped by a stranger was to see your tiny pink haired friend swiftly grab his arm and put him in a lock. Sammy was visibly concerned as the man tried to shake them off, but they tensed their muscles and refused to let go.
"S-sir you can't hit people that's assault." Sammy scolded, and it was almost funny. They looked so flustered by the situation that they defaulted to rambling about the law, how assault became a law and the possible repurcussions in court for slapping someone. After a while the man just looked so bored he could sink through the floor.
"Do you understand?" Sammy asked, ending their lecture. The man nodded weakly and Sammy release him. He slunk away like a child who got grounded for stealing a cookie. Sammy let out a huff and turned to you. "I didn't think Ezra's self-defense class would ever actually come in handy. Are you okay?"
The short scholar gently cupped your face, it still stung a bit but the concern in their eyes made you smile.
"I'm okay Sammy."
"Are you sure, Blossom? I'm sorry he hit you." Sammy murmured, now inspecting your cheek. Their thumb traced faintly around the edge of the redness that was now fading. Sammy bit their lower lip for a moment before pulling your face down and kissing your cheek where the man hit you. You blinked in surprise. The soft coolness of their lips against your skin felt nice. As they released your face, you realized they were blushing. "I read that kisses help people feel better when they're hurt."
93 notes · View notes
julie-finlay · 11 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Finlay Friday
13x01: "Karma to Burn", script extracts. Pt. 2/3.
6 notes · View notes
thebibi · 1 year
Note
Moore called the Dracula/Mina blood ceremony scene in the book (not in the movie) "erotic", so from that you can guess how he treats sexual assault themes.
Oh no, anon. This might be something I unfortunately agree with Alan Moore about.
I know his take on Mina in LXG is bad, and there is a lot to be criticised about how Moore always gives his female characters rape storylines. Like the man definitely overuses that trope. BUT. Mina's assault in the book definitely has erotic undertones, and it's very intentional. I think you'd have to re-write the whole scene to NOT be sexual.
I feel like people forget there is a definite entanglement of horror and sexuality within Dracula. Like early on when Jonathan almost gets bitten by the Brides, there is an adverse reaction which is in conflict with his physical attraction. He REALLY doesn't want to be attracted to them, but he is despite knowing they are a threat. Is it mesmerism? Possibly. But I think the fact that Jonathan asks Mina for forgiveness is proof. He feels ashamed for something he had no control over.
And that is similarly how Mina felt when Dracula attacked her. Us, the reader, wouldn't have understood that unless the writing made it a point to showcase it. The way the scene is described, its filled with sexual innuendo. And its traumatizing!! Its disgusting. Its a misattribution of arousal. You hate that you had to read that. The unsettling feeling you get is purposeful. It is totally a fucked up, messed up feeling.
I am in no way romanticizing what happened. Neither Mina nor Jonathan "secretly wanted it", but the way they are written is to instill that conflict between sex and violence. How would it feel to be turned on and repulsed by something at the same time? And I think Dracula is an exercise in making you feel gross about it.
10 notes · View notes