#it’s often the same thing with trafficking scenarios

[froody]

I saw a slideshow about which states in the U.S. allow child marriage and the comments were like “Yes but that’s with parental permission.” as though that somehow makes it better. The institution of child marriage throughout history has generally been precipitated by parents selling their children for higher social standing, financial gain or simply because they no longer want to be responsible for them. It was not a phenomenon caused by loved children being stolen off the street in broad daylight.

As someone from a rural area in the south, almost everyone has at least one female family member who was a child bride. Usually the story is that girl’s parents said “You’re 14, that 30 year old who is perversely interested in you has a good job and will be a good provider. We approve of you marrying him because we can’t be arsed to care about you and a woman’s worth is only as a mother and wife.”

This is still happening to this day in fundamentalist religious communities through the U.S. where a girl’s worth is often based on how chaste and ‘innocent’ she seems, older women seen as more worldly and impure by virtue of being more wise. So many fundies get married at 17, 18, 19 or 20 and their parents would probably marry them off at a younger age if they could. And sometimes they still do.

#child abuse #child exploitation #child marriage #it’s often the same thing with trafficking scenarios #misogyny

[butch-reidentified]

ima go ahead n answer both these at once if that's good w yall.

here's the referenced post for anyone who missed it.

I've posted a LOT about adoption before. feel free to search #adoption, #ethical adoption, #adoptee or #adopted, etc in my tags for those posts. if you can't find them bc Tumblr is shit at searching lmk and I will try to dig em up. I have a Google doc of organized/categorized Tumblr links because of the search function being such a joke

anyway that said. what I meant is that it is sooo obvious to most adoptees from a young age that it's a consumer industry and we are a product for sale. most of us who always knew we were adopted have that horrifying realization very very young, far too young to know how to deal with it. yes I am glad when other people figure this out too but it's a bit irritating for non adoptees to act like this is some mystical wisdom they alone could've uncovered when it's part of the trauma inherent to adoption to realize you were purchased 🤷

I'm not against adoption like some adoptees are, but I could write ESSAYS on my criticisms of the industry and how it SHOULD work. in fact, I have written essay length posts about it in the tags listed above. but ultimately nobody gives a fuck & NOBODY of any political orientation wants to hear that adoption perhaps isn't the utterly selfless flawless silver bullet solution to unwanted kids that everyone treats it as. yet statistically we KNOW most adoptees are extremely damaged by it, the research is there but nobody talks about it. nobody likes you if you talk about it. the walls go up real quick.

one of my favorite things is how adoption seems to be the ONE area that absolutely nobody respects lived material experience about. even loads of leftists/radfems who are always going on and on about the importance of listening to people's real, lived experiences will aggressively talk over us adoptees if we dare have the audacity to critique adoption/the adoption industry or acknowledge that it's fuckin traumatic even for an infant being yanked away from the only stimuli you knew for 9 months and put somewhere where you can't recognize yourself in anyone or anything for the next 18+ years. and that's best case scenario! scenario where they don't abuse you or spend your childhood guilt tripping you because they oh so selflessly took you in when nobody wanted you and now look how difficult you are, crying all the time n shit... just as 1 common experience I know many share from my own life and talking to other adoptees.

but nearly every time we try to talk about this, even if it has nothing to do with criticizing the adoption industry and we are JUST tryna get painful shit off our chest, some non adoptee or 8 is/are gonna jump down our throat (and often even say all the same shit our parents guilted us with as kids lmao)

it's also 1000% a feminist issue bc SO many mothers are forced into adopting out a kid they wanna keep, or adoption being available is used to justify forcing women to give birth instead of aborting an unwanted pregnancy when those women would otherwise choose the latter. not to mention the designer baby shit & the preference for white male babies... and the fact that it's human beings being literally sold as a good. Just because it's legal and isn't outright sex slavery or "forced labor" (tho adopted kids are so often viciously abused and often in those exact ways) doesn't make it right to buy or sell a human being, doesn't make it not human trafficking. & I say this as an adoptee who was ALSO trafficked as a teenager.

#mine #ask #anon ask #anon #ethical adoption #adopted #adoptee #adoption industry #legal trafficking

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I withheld a job from my ex?

cw: maybe abuse?

My ex (28f) and I (24f) broke up two years ago. we're on decent terms, but I moved cross-continent and we don't talk often but are on good terms. every few months we chat and catch up. I don't think she's a bad person and have no ill-will towards her.

we got together when I was 19 and she was 24, which makes me feel weird now as a 24 year old, esp considering I was homeless and recently exiting a sex trafficking situation. I'm physically disabled- she had a physical government career (think military, first responder, etc) and had a good amount of muscle on me as a result. our relationship centered around substance abuse a Lot, and she did shove me, push me, etc. the worst thing she did was break my arm when I was trying to get her to eat when she was really drunk because I was worried about alcohol poisoning. I'm an addict tbf, but I didn't put my hands on her- I was awful, I'd leave for days after we fought and scare her, and that's not okay. I want to clarify that I'm also shitty in this scenario- I'd leave, I'd call her mean names, and not pick up the phone. overall, it was a toxic relationship on both our ends.

she left her government job, and I have gotten her a job since our breakup in the nonprofit work I do. The company I recommended her to operates hundreds of miles away from me, and so I wasn't worried about running into her, despite it being the same niche area of nonprofits. People there were uncomfortable once they found out she was my ex, because they were concerned about me when we were together, but she did well and genuinely helped out a really hard-up charity.

Recently, we've caught up- I never plan to get back with her, because someone breaking your arm is bad and I recognize that. My friends rightfully disapprove of us talking, but I needed some copies of vet records for my cat she had, and she asked if I knew anyone hiring. I am successful in my career and hold sway in the field I work in. I have worked at this one company I absolutely love working for, like I'm at my dream job, and I don't think it'd be appropriate to recommend her to apply. I am higher up now, and they would let me refuse to supervise her due to conflict of interest, but I just don't want her at the company. She's great at her job and would be a massive asset, esp bc it's a nonprofit and we struggle to find decent staff, but it'd freak out my work friends, she'd come into a similar environment as the last recommendation I gave, and I honestly just want to focus on my career without dealing with the stress of having her around, even though we're friends now, she still scares me a little.

So I told her to apply at companies I have a good reputation with but do not plan to work with again. It's basically the same job, same pay, as she would get if I offered her a job where I'm at, but my company has better policy and is more understanding. we're so understaffed in my field that people recommending friends, family, exes, whatever, to apply is normal and, frankly, appreciated, as long as they aren't working with them directly. I would be able to put her in an office on the other side of the country and never have to talk to her w work, but I just. Don't want her at this company, even though she'd help a ton and it's slightly better than the other jobs I've set her up with. She doesn't know I'm holding out, but AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[shadeslayer]

prev, the porn poll, is so. interesting. like theres a lot wrapped up in porn esp paying for porn (sex shaming, body shaming, whorephobia, whorephobic misconceptions abt The Porn Industry, christian purity culture and the idea that you need to have One Person and Marry them and they must be Everything to you and cater to Every emotional need u have or else youre not in love enough or ur doing it wrong) and i think ppls takes on it do speak a lot to of theyve ever actually engaged with sex work beyond the pop culture idea of "pornstar bimbo/sex trafficking" (rather than the reality of buying porn which, in my exp, often is individual creators or websites that are vehicles for individual creators, and the reality that a lot of free porn is stolen and often is harder to trace the origins of it and if its ethical or not bc it gets ripped stolen re-uploaded so often, and even if it was ethically created it may not be ethically shared bc it may be paid content thats been reuploaded nonconsensually) and if they have a constructive relationship to sex, jealousy, and sexuality within a relationship

and i do think people who are poly and/or who engage in the kink scene understand it better - esp w kink scene ppl bc u understand more explicitly that sex work is work, that there is a financial business transaction to be had wrt sex whether its buying content or its buying toys or tickets to a workshop, and theres an understanding that there are things your partner plain cant do and the line of fantasy to reality. ive bought porn vids of kinks i dont really have any interest in doing - i just liked the scenario or the performer(s) for fantasy fuel. just because you get off to something doesnt mean you want it irl, or that it would be Possible irl bc of fantastical kinks like micro/macro or bc of the inherent contradictions to Existence. my partner is one person, they cant be both thin and fat, both flat chested and big breasted, both tall and short, both hairy and shaved, etc. & expecting one person to meet all your needs in every sense is a good way to get yourself in a super uncomfortable unhealthy relationship where you begin to resent each other

and also i think its really cool and intimate to share porn recs with your partner. and also i find porn is a lot more queer and diverse and kinky when you buy from creators rather than scroll past 50 videos on pornhub that are all basically the same video of two white skinny cis ppl fucking doggystyle

#anompolili #& not to be preachy abt it for a millisecond but its cool to know a trans SWer has money for food & rent #while i get to enjoy a cool and sexy video they made and sold

[brick-a-doodle-do]

Heyyoooooooo beloved!

Sorry for being absent, i was preparing for my graduation ceremony! And totally didn't almost trip in it!

But that's not important, 😜

Tiny workers au!

So since you have that massive list of awesome attractions, and various cc s in the au, how about the tinies and giants fav and most hated of the attractions?

Hmmmm also sorta same idea as shapeshifter ranboo, do you think there are like hunters or traffickers of tinies? Maayybbbee a hurt comfort idea of Wilbur saving Tommy in some way (I'm a firm stan in crimebois if it wasn't obvs by now😂)

Ohh and maybe what is the most illegal "contraband" the tinies try to smuggle into the park from their giant friends that the boss keeps confiscating, go crazy with this!

Missed doing asks! I hope all has been well🥰

hii!! >:DD

nono don't apologize ik you have a life!! and :000 that is amazing!! excusing you almost tripping, i'm so happy for you!

that is so important i am always happy to hear about your life too!! i talk to much about me with these asks dsjbjdgsdnf

mm yes beloved au >:]]

i don't do this like ever but i'm skipping over this question! but i have a good explanation and that is i am planning on making a huge masterpost for this au seeing as writing it as a multi-chapter story might be difficult, and in said masterpost i'm going to be going over this exact thing with each of the regulars & the employees :)

okay so this is a cool question cause i've been so caught up in fluff for this au that angst totally slipped my mind!!

i'm going kinda deep into backstory here so bear with me as i too figure out the worldbuilding to this au as i'm writing :)

the park is pretty much the only location in the world that has tinies working as semi-regular people. a lot of the population leave the species alone, and a good majority of people don't even know they exist. so the park definitely breaks a lot of social norms that've slowly just built up naturally. while there are no laws just yet against using tinies for labor and you can technically do whatever you want with them, there are certainly organizations that are against the idea of the park.

especially after it opened, a handful of large corporations started looking into using tinies. a few decided against it while others sealed the deal.

it's kind of like with my spy au where under most moral circumstances, the borrower(s) at hand have a choice: stay or go. and more often than not---with a little bit of manipulative persuasion, the borrower goes.

so as far as traffickers go and hunters go, if (sorry for any typos beyond this point my friend's dog is literally shoving her face onto my keyboard while i type lmao) there is any it'd most likely be from someone who's trying to save them--to bring them "back to where they belong" but like in a /pos way sdhdghafsdnf

but if written from the opposite pov this could totally be seen as a /neg thing, therefore angst has presented itself to the ideas table :D

mm have this scenario:

a few month's after wilbur's first meeting with tommy--they're beyond comfortable with each other and have easily reached the "brother" stage--a small group comes and organizes a protest against the park just a bit away from the front gates, where the golfing is located. (in my mind you enter the park, walk a 'lil bit, and you're there but there's work to be done !!) beeduo has gone to take a walk because ranboo was on edge basically the entire morning. so that left tommy. alone. with his thoughts and the yells of dozens of humans outside yelling god knows what.

he stays there for what feels like hours before he hears an ever-so-loud knock echo around his hollow home. tommy dreads whoever it is, but soothes immediately at the sound of wilbur's voice calling out gently to him.

(ps. wilbur takes tommy home after that and they stay there for a few days :D just too lazy to write that and i know if i do this ask would be way too long)

hdhsfjdsgjdnf yep i've noticed loll but dw, crimebois are very beloved to me as well so answering these are a blast >:DD

hmm this is a hard one! i feel like tommy'd just try to bring back a lot of coke but his boss says that's too much energy for him and he'd get another dozen complaints filed against him instantly. tubbo'd also try to befriend and take care of bees lol

but i mean as for stuff that's actually illegal and can't be found anywhere inside the park and they'd get into real trouble if ever found with it, i can't think of anything !! D:

jeez this is terrible i've never had an idea come to a stop before >:v

a aha just thought of smth lmaoo (like 10 seconds later irl)

okay so like yk catnip n shit? what about that but for borrowers. cause weed may be like too strong for a borrowers system (no don't make me get into biology for this au just yet) so there's a specific plant that borrower's have used for centuries. now this isn't exactly original and i can definitely think of better things but c'monnn

imagine techno, after hearing about it from wilbur, tending to a small garden of it just for the borrowers :( /pos

i love soft techno this is just an excuse to make him exist in this au /hj

and i mean if the boss ever found that he'd get pissed cause yk they're supposed to be good employee's if they're going to live on his property and eat his food blah blah blah yk the dad talk,,,,

also also also i was just abt to post this when i got the idea of this:

tw for mention of vore & fatal vore (fatal vore will not happen in this au dw)

another thing that they'd absolutely get yelled at for is like imagine smth to help with noms? i actually forgot how i set up noms for this au but i'm all for updating the worldbuilding so now it's official that a tiny can comfortably be stored in a human's storage for up to about two-four hours before it'll get uncomfortable and even lethal.

a human's storage is extremely small and just barely has enough room to house two four-inch-borrowers, like it's tight and narrow asf. so maybe there's like a black-market type item where it's like some type of drink that makes the borrower more comfortable? maybe it relaxes the tinies mind and messes w smth in their body that makes staying inside a storage for longer than the suggested time without like yk dying

all is well here, hope it is the same there!! <''3 can't wait to hear from you more :D (but still don't force urself to ask things just wait till u have the time to. i've got the patience for it :])

#brickquiries #graci brickling #tiny workers au #cw vore implication/mention #tw fatal vore implication/mention

[adamsvanrhijn]

ooooh 17, 19 if you want, 32, 38

17. Past or present tense? Why?

both!!! that post going around right now about this makes me :-( because i use both in about equal frequency (though!!! i don't know that for certain... i should make a chart) and people are dissing present tense a lot lol. but! i like them both, and they both tell stories.

i think they each give different vibes and there are some nuances worth considering to craft something of quality in each. converting tenses (which i have to do fairly often because i do write in both and i don't write in a linear way at all, so if passage x is in present and passage y is in past one of them has to Win and the other gets rewritten) and ending up with quality prose is more complex than just changing the verb tenses.

but i like both and use both! sometimes within the same work (in diff chapters/sections obvs, not in the same piece of prose) to express something in particular? but generally it's arbitrary and it's just how the words fall out of my head.

19. Share a snippet from a wip without giving any context for it.

"It's become inconvenient," Oscar specified.

"Has it?"

"And with you blocks away," sharing an address with several mutual acquaintances of theirs (bachelors congregated; Oscar had been careful to deviate from the trend), in an area... well, not more trafficked. But crowds were amenable when one wanted to blend in, and the crowds at Madison Square were more active and more varied than those in John's quarter, where all had impeccable background and pedigree—and all knew them both on sight, saw them both everywhere.

He hadn't known New York. He couldn't be blamed for his decision, and, in Oscar's favor, he'd said before that he should make a different one if he could start again.

But he disliked change once he had settled: the other side of the coin, and the one that would not serve Oscar well in this endeavor.

32. Do you have a word/expression that you always use in your writing?

lmfao god yeah unfortunately. there are very many. i am trying to break some of these habits with tga fanfic as i am writing new points of view? but some of it is just ~*~*My Style~*~.

major offenders:

"breathe[s/d]" as a dialogue tag verb

i feel that my adverbs are repetitive in general but especially "lightly". my prose is very beige and i tend to over-rely on Telling with adverbs in general imo.

lexical trends characters have in canon tend to show up more frequently in my fic than they do in the actual source material, especially when it's ways of expressing contradiction (e.g. thomas barrow downton abbey "but even so")

38. "This never happened" fix-it fics or "this happened but" fix-it fics?

so i don't really write Fix It Fic so much as i write canon divergent aus where things go differently and sometimes result in what i think is a good outcome for the characters that they may not necessarily have been afforded in canon — i am a Canon First Word Of God Second Paratext Third Everything Else Last person, and i like to explore other stories and what if scenarios, but i'm very much a "love letter to the media" fic writer, not an "i can do it better" fic writer.

but in any case, i try to err on the side of "this happened but" because i think it's easier to keep characterization stable and recognizable that way, as well as, when things don't happen at all, trying to ensure there is an analogue event or plotline that allows for similar character development. sometimes i like to take said character development past canon to a place that feels more desirable to me, but that isn't intended necessarily to be a Fix, because i have so many stories going on in my head and i don't even really have headcanons that are 100% stable across my own work, let alone scenarios in mind that feel Better or more certain to me than canon itself does.

#fic talk tag

[aphrodite1288]

May I ask approximately how often those ig/twt sasaeng infos end up being true?

Like is it a credible source of info? (I hate saying it like this, it sound terribly invasive so I really don't keep up with all of this) I've always thought that sasaengs did not share much their informations for free because it's like a business for them so it's seems suspicious to reveal something so big just like that right? That's what I always read, was I misinformed? Sasaengs do that now?

They only share very famous info, such as comebacks' concepts &dates, which color each member died their hair for the cb. How many songs in the album, leaked demo versions of the songs or leaked dance,if a member is dating or not (not who they date they mostly suspect an idol dating when they see them buying couple things at stores and going out very often they claim they're dating, most if the times sasaengs don't know who the idol is dating exactly) and very famous scandals such as drugs, molestation, alcoholic members, idols being threatened, fights among some idols or in the same group, big scandals like "The Sun nightclub" and sex trafficking and stuff like that...things that everyone knows in korea, things u can't hide. These things were never a secret everyone knows of them. So they share those.

But to know who is dating who? it's very hard ! idols tend to be very very careful, extremely disguised that you can't tell who they are! they never hangout or go on dates outside!à they always do it at home or rent extreme private places far away from korea, far from the famous spots idols frequently meet up at,unless the couple don't care if they're outed so they go on dates freely never disguised and they don't care if they get discovered such as "SNSD's Sooyoung and her amazing boyfriend cute romantic pics that dispatch blessed us with, or the lead couple from descendants of the sun etc...other than that it's almost impossible to catch idols dating they know the tactics of paparazzi and sasaengs and their moves and where they always go to snap pics so idols are more tricky and smarter than what y'all think, it's almost very hard for them to get caught as their guards are always up!)

Something else those stoopid sasaengs pages tend to do, is they share old pics of fake couples and claim they're Jenkai or taennie (taehyung of bts and Jenn ship) or liskook blah blah... To gain followed and to scam shippers and get their money, that's why if u follow those Sasaeng pages they always ask you to move to their new accounts, they constantly making new accounts coz they scam people and get reported so they ask their followers to move to their new accounts and they tend to bring other sasaeng pages down and calling each other fake, I have witnessed many many sasaengs pages bringing e/o down and calling e/o fake and they mostly share the same content and claim it as theirs, I've witnessed many beefs and I laughed my ass off really.

Upon my dear Kaisooists's REQUEST: I've bought from them infos to test them when they said they had Kyungsoo and jongin's girlfriends pics, but when I bought the news and pics they only sent me few pics of a random girl claiming she is Ji's girlfriend and and pic of Ksoo with an old woman( she was a movie producer) when they went for a coffee ☕ to discuss some scenarios suggestions! And I've had those pics long time ago back in 2016 but they're using them now to claim it's Ksoo and his new GF while I've seen the Pics I'm 2016! 🤦🏿‍♀️. The other pics were of a couple a man who's short and looks like Ksoo and his GF, and i discovered that those pics they sent were the rumored FAKE pics dispatch used to claim Ksoo is dating Sojin of the girlgroup "Girl's Day" which no one believed coz that was clearly not ksoo and it was proven later it was her friend/boyfriend, and he doesn't look nothing like Ksoo and he was a chubby short man and Ksoo back then in 2013 was skinny and with a small figure so it was clearly not Soo, also why would a 1 year old rookie Kyungsoo date his SUNBAENIM who's 7years older than him (in age she is 1986 liner) 🤦🏿‍♀️ I mean there's nothing wrong with age gap when it comes to love but for a shy rookie who's under a dating ban and who only debuted a year ago???? That's a NO NO, he was still young to affect his and his members' career by a reckless dating scandal, when he broke up with the love of his life just to debut in SM so clearly he cares about his career. And the pics of Sojin and the other guy whom they claimed was Ksoo are all over internet. It was a flop coz no one believed that stoopid dating scandal dispatch posted to cover up some shit happened back in 2014 when a lot of disasters happened in the industry with the members leaving and death of many other people in the industry, Taeyong's scandal (NCT's), Goohara's rape and sex tapes, Boom's früh scandal, Ladies'code's death caused by a sasaeng, etc...

Anyway I discovered they were a scam, i bought from them to test them upon my fellow kaisooists'requests who asked me in private and begged me to go test those sasaengs whom are so famous and claim to know everything..Thus, I found out I was right, coz they sent me old shit or fake couples who look like Kyungsoo and Ji with some random girls whom they claimed were their gfs.

One famous Sasaeng asked me to pay 100$ To get Ji's new girlfriend's pic, but when I asked her for previews she sent me pics of random girls in Internet, I told her how am I supposed to know if she's Ji's girlfriend or Donald Trump's girlfriend??? She said " well I know she is his girlfriend", I told her " okay prove it??? Do u have pics of Ji with her?", she said "No! Only her !" I told her "and how am I gonna know that she's his GF?? I will pay you 100$ You have to give me legit shit!! That's motherfucking 100$ Sis????!!" She said "I JUST KNOW AND YOU HAVE TO TRUST ME , IF YOU DON'T BELIEVE ME LEAVE MY ACCOUNT AND UNFOLLOW ME"

I wasn't even following her so she blocked me.💁🏿‍♀️ Actually many of them blocked me, when I tested their korean to know if they really are korean or live in S.K, by asking my friend who speaks korean. I found out they weren't even korean...and they don't even know how to read korean. And they blocked me right away.

And that's only one of the many stories with those fake ass sasaengs whom I tested and found out were basic lying bitches doing it for followers and clout & CASH 🤑💰 and claiming things from their own imagination. 💁🏿‍♀️

But Hey! ofc they do know some things and as I said before above! They know the very famous things such as upcoming idols' or actors' projects, movies, dramas, Comeback dates and concepts etc... Which they use as a proof to gain y'all's trust! But what y'all don't know is that those things aren't even secret, they're news everyone of y'all can find if u join korean kakao talk groups or Kpop amino groups or just naver posts for those who know korean of y'all. It's not magical.

And if anyone gonna come here giving lecture as to why I bought news about Kadi and that I'm a privacy invader and blah blah, I'm just gonna tell you "don't waste your time writing your comment coz 1) I don't read comments so I'll probably never see it, 2) I don't give a flying fuck about your opinion, so calma" .

Hope i answered your ask.

#instagram and twitter sasaengs are fake! #Don't believe sasaengs

[bloededhoine]

I notice a lot of fans don't really bring up how Roche uses Ves for her "feminine qualities (for lack of a better word)." I hate that in Witcher 2 he sends her to Loredo dressed as a prostitute and it is implied she does this sort of thing regularly? I do know that Roche cares for her but sometimes his behavior needs a reprimand. Do you have any thoughts on this?

i absolutely love questions like this because they really make me think. plus, this is one of the rare posts that's a system special! give @claire-verlaine your love. she's simply amazing.

first things first, spoiler warning for chapter 2 of roche's path in w2 and big trigger warning for discussions of sex work, sex trafficking, rape, war, unequal power dynamics, and brief mentions of underage prostitution. also this is really fucking long. sorry.

let's start with the geekiness: prostitution as a cover for espionage has a long and awesome, albeit poorly documented, history. it was really big with the confederacy (read: racists) during american civil war, and while their motives were undoubtedly awful, these spies were simply amazing. rose o'neal greenhow was recognized by the confederate president for her role in their victory at the first battle of bull run. belle boyd seduced a union (read: racists but more covert) general, found out the date and location of the next war council, drilled a hole in the floor in the meeting room, and sat in the crawl space and took notes of the entire thing.

although there were many successful female union spies, most of them didn't use sex. there's no clear consensus on why this was, but it's entirely possible that such enlightened progressives figured sex work to be demeaning. clearly, union men were avid consumers, but also thought women didn't know any better and needed to be protected from men who would exploit them. meanwhile, these awful southern racists had no problem with "exploiting" women, but inadvertently granted them a shit ton of political agency and prestige!

this all brings us to our next point, which is that nothing is inherently wrong with sex work, although it does put workers in incredibly vulnerable positions. for every spy that successfully used prostitution as a cover, there were likely many others that failed. without even considering the consequences of being discovered as an enemy spy, sex trafficking was (and continues to be) a very real risk for anyone in that situation*.

nearly the whole history of sex work legislation shows how little people, especially upper class men, understand it. the spies in the civil war were both lucky and unlucky in that they operated quite independently. they didn't need to take orders from someone who was entirely unqualified to give them, but they also had no safety net in case something went wrong. if belle boyd so much as sneezed while eavesdropping, there would be almost no chance she'd get back home alive.

however dangerous this job was, most lady spies during the civil war began spying before they were even recruited by the army. these women weren't doing it on anyone's orders, they were doing it because they had the skills and believed in the cause (remember that in this case that belief was not an admirable quality).

rose o'neal's (possible) handler, thomas jordan, had a huge network of spies, and all evidence points to him giving her way more independence than usual. thomas jordan wasn't who rose went to for orders, he was who she submitted her reports to. in my opinion, the sex she had to obtain this information was consensual.

ves' scenario is obviously different in regard to her chain of command. she is going into sexual situations under the direct orders of a (male) commanding officer. just writing this has the alarm bells going off in my head. what good is having someone to get you out of a dangerous situation when they were the one to put you in that situation in the first place? but this is where we get to what's special about roche. he is, as they say, not like other girls.

it's no secret how much roche loves his team. when the blue stripes are killed he says that everything he loved died. if ves dies in an eye for an eye he is absolutely devastated. the blue stripes aren't just roche's subordinates, they're his family. when you see the stripes outside of battle the camaraderie is even clearer: they fist fight their commander and each other to blow off steam, they play games, have contests, etc. ves' knowledge of roche's dark and troubled past is more proof that the trust goes both ways.

roche would never put his family in an unnecessarily dangerous situation, nor would he have them do something he personally wouldn't do. even if it's just from a morality perspective (like double crossing radovid for the man that had foltest killed), roche goes it alone.

so, we know roche is a (compratively) good guy. but we also know that intention, often, doesn't mean shit. i mentioned earlier how most of the people making decisions for sex workers have little to no idea of what they are doing. it doesn't help that their intentions are all about controlling (mostly) women and getting rich in the process, but even the best meaning legislator could unknowingly do a lot of damage. roche is way more involved in ves' missions than thomas jordan was in rose o'neal's, but i think that's a good thing.

as i'm sure you lovely witcher connoisseurs know, roche is a literal whoreson. he is very aware of what goes on in brothels, and, depending on how you read into his relationship with foltest, what it's like to not really be able to say no. if anything, roche's involvement here is a good thing, since he has years of first hand experience with exactly what ves is going through, but without the safety net of an elite team that loves him and are frighteningly good soldiers.

plus, ves is far more capable than your average soldier, even in a blue stripes-calibre group. she's an absolute badass. most women who used prostitution as a cover for spying went into it with no combat or espionage training whatsoever. they knew how to be personable, how to be seductive, and how to use men's biases to get them to spill all their secrets. clearly, this knowledge served them well, but what about the occasions when it didn't? they were not fighters. at all. ves has both the "feminine charms" and the terrifying combat skills. of course, these scenarios usually have her acting as a spy, not an assassin, so those skills are more of a failsafe, but it's still very important to her own safety and the morality of the whole situation.

TL;DR

to sum up, anon, i do agree with (what i assume to be) your reasoning, but not the conclusion you came to. if someone told me an older male superior was having a younger female subordinate act as a prostitute to gain intel during a time of war, i'd be ready to start cutting off dicks.

but that's not the whole story. the older male superior has a personal background in (possibly) coerced and underaged sex work. the younger female subordinate is a highly skilled soldier, and second in command of an elite unit. both of them have a very close familial relationship developed over several years. a similar relationship exists between the the other members of the unit in their command. personally, i think those factors make this a completely new situation.

that being said, i'm certain that my beliefs aren't the only ones out there. as long as we can all agree that the base scenario is unequivocally wrong, there should be absolutely no reason to (civilly) not discuss whether or not the special circumstances make it okay.

* i'll take this as an opportunity to say that the enforcement of anti-sex work laws force sex workers to be either a criminal, a victim, or dead. these laws are the problem, not the solution. the solution would be supporting unions for sex workers, giving them the same legal protections given to any other worker, and treating them like humans, not statistics.

#anon #sorry this is so long #i got carried away #roche tag #ves tag #shaun the sheep talks to humans #also anon you get the honourable award for most interesting ask ever #i absolutely loved it

[yukinojou]

I already squeed quite a bit on Twitter, but turns out my Shadow and Bone thoughts demand longform. So that was a 40+ tweet thread or using my Tumblr for an original post for once.

I was wary about the Shadow and Bone adaptation the way I'm usually wary about good books being adapted onscreen. It was amplified because my actual favourites are the Six of Crows books, and because the American-based movie complex has a bad track record of doing anything based on Eastern Europe. 8 episodes in 3 days should tell you how much I loved it - the moment I finished, I wanted more.

First, the technical praise:

Damn but the plotting is tight. It took me a while to realised it's based on heist movie bones, where every little thing (The Freaking Bullet!) is important. The story fulfills its promises and manages not to bore at the same time - it delights by the way they're fulfilled. I called out a few plot developments moments before they happened, and I was happy about it. Such a joy after so many series where "not doing what viewers expect" led to plot holes and lack of sense. It might be an upside to the streaming model after all.

From a dramatic point of view I can tell all the reasons for all the changes, especially providing additional outsider points of view on Ravka (Crows) and letting viewers see Mal for themselves the way he only comes across in later books.

Speaking of which, this is a masterclass in rewriting a story draft. SaB was Bardugo's first, and having read later books you can really see where she didn't quite dare to break the YA rules yet, especially Single POV that necessitated a tight focus on Alina's often negative feelings rather than the big picture and a triangle that felt a bit forced. The world in the series is so much bigger, the way Bardugo could finally paint it when SaB success gave her more creative freedom, and some structural choices feel familiar too. It's a combination of various choices by crew and cast, but the end result meshes together so tightly and naturally.

Visuals! Especially the war parts because Every Soviet Movie Ever, but also the clothes (I would kill for Nina's blouse in the bar), the jewelry, the interiors. The stag was so very beautiful. And a deep commitment to a coherent aesthetic for each character and setting.

Look, you can do a serious fantasy series with colours! Both skin colours and bright sets and clothing! And all scenes were well lit enough to know what's going on, even in the Fold!

Representation (aka I Am Emotion)

To start with: I was born behind the Iron Curtain, in the last years of the Cold War. The Curtain was always permeable to some extent, and we have always been aware that while we have talented artists of our own, we never had the budgets and polish of the Anglosphere Entertainment Machine. So we watched a hell of a lot of American visual storytelling especially because yeah, you can tell we don't have the budgets. 90s and 2000s especially, it's getting better now.

In American stories, the BEST case scenario for Eastern European representation is the Big Dumb Pole, the ethnic stereotype Americans don't even notice they use, where the punchline is that his English is bad or that he grew up outside Anglo culture. Other than that, it's criminals, beggars, sex trafficking victims, refugees. Sure, we may look similar (except we really really don't, not if you're raised here and see the distinct lack of all those long-jawed Anglo faces), but we are not and have never been the West, never mind America. It's probably better for younger people now, but I was raised under rationing and passport bans. Star Trek and Beverly Hills 90210 were exactly as foreign to me.

The first ever character I really identified with was Susan Ivanova in Babylon 5 (written by J. Michael Straczynski, yay behind-camera representation). This was a Russian Jewish woman very much in charge, in the way of strong women I know so well, not taking any bullshit, not repressing her feminity. I recognised her bones, she could be my cousin. The sheer relief of it. There have been few such occasions since.

The reason I picked up Shadow and Bone in the first place was recommendations from other Polish people. I've had no problems finding representation in Eastern European books because wow our scene is strong in SFF especially, but it's always a treat to find a book in English that gets it. And Leigh gets it, the bones of our culture, and I could even look past the grammar issue (dear gods and Americans, Starkova for a woman, Morozov for a guy) that really irked me because of the love for the setting and the characters, the weaving in of religion/mysticism (we never laicisized the same way as the West, natch), the understanding of how deep are the scars left in a nation at war for centuries. The books are precious to me, they and Arden's Winternight and Novik's Spinning Silver.

To sum up: Shadow and Bone the Netflix series gets it. You can tell just how much they've immersed themselves in Eastern European culture and media, it comes across so well in visuals and writing and characters. Not just the obvious bits (though the WWII propaganda posters gave me a giggle), but the palaces, the additional plotlines and characters, the costumes, the attitudes. About the only thing missing in the soldier scenes was someone singing and/or quoting poetry.

I will blame the Apparat's lack of beard on filming in a non-Orthodox country. Poland's Catholic too, but I very much imagined him as an Orthodox patriarch, possibly because I read the books shortly after a visit to Pecherska Lavra in Kiev and the labyrinthine holy catacombs there. Small quibble, not my religion, not my place to speak.

(I've seen discussion on the issues with biracial representation in the show, which is visceral and apparently based on bad experiences of one of the show writers in a way that's caused pain to other Asian and biracial people. I'm not qualified to speak on those parts, other that Eastern Europe is... yeah. Racist in subtly different ways. If anything, the treatment of the Suli as explained in Six of Crows always read so very true of the way Roma are treated, and even sanitised.)

And now for the spoiler-filled bits:

Kaz and Inej. I mean... just THEM. So many props to the actors, the writers, the bloody goat.

I adore the fact the only people who get to have sex in the show are Jesper and a very lucky stablehand.

Ben Barnes needs either an award or a kick. The man's acting choices and puppy eyes are as epic as his hair.

So Much Love for Alina initiating the kiss. Her book characterisation makes sense, she's so trapped in her own head because she has no time to process everything that's happening, but grabbing life by the lapels is a much more active choice. Still not making the relationship equal, but closer to it.

Speaking of, Kaz's constant awareness of how unequal his relationship with Inej is, and attempts to give her agency. I'm really curious how his touch issues come across to someone who doesn't know the backstory there.

Feodor and his actor. He looks exactly like the pre-war heartthrob Adolf Dymsza, a specific upper-class Polish ethnic type that's much rarer now that, well, Nazis killed millions of Polish intellectuals in their attempt to reduce us to unskilled labour only. The faces he makes are the Best.

Nina!! Nina is perfect, those cheekbones, that cheek, I was giggling myself silly half the time. I cannot wait to see Danielle Galligan take on the challenge of Nina's plotline in Six of Crows and Crooked Kingdom, she'll kill us dead.

I already mentioned that the writers fixed Mal's absence from the first book, but Mal in general! The haircut gives him a kind of rugby charm, and Archie Renaux is outstanding at emoting without talking. Honestly, all the casting in this series is inspired, but him in particular.

Extra bonus: Howard Charles and Luke Pasqualino playing so very much against the type of the swaggering Musketeers I saw them play last. Arken dropping the mask at the end... Howard Charles is love.

I can't believe not only was Milo's bullet a plot point, but the fact Alina was wearing a particularly sparkly hair ornament in a long series of beautiful hair ornaments was a plot point.

In conclusion: so much love, and next three season NOW please. Okay, give me a week to reread the books, and an extra day because new Murderbot drops tomorrow...

#shadow and bone #six of crows #shadow and bone meta

[takis-essays]

Is Prostitution a Victimless Crime?

Target word count: 2000 Final word count: 1944

Prostitution is considered a moral crime. Moral crimes don't necessarily involve breaking any major laws, or prosecution for any laws that do get broken. They involve the breaking of common morals or deviation from societal norms, meaning that they can differ depending on the cultural beliefs and common views in a specific location. An example of moral crime (asides from prostitution) is begging. While it doesn't land you any jail time, it is still actually a crime. In the UK, the exchange of sexual services for money is legal, but things like soliciting, kerb crawling, owning or managing a brothel and pimping are considered to be crimes. While they may often be seen as simple subcategories of prostitution, they are looked at as separate offences within the legal system and will land you with different charges.

Prostitution falls under moral crime, because it deviates from the norm. The majority of people don't perform sexual acts to receive a payment. Many people see it as morally wrong, because they believe it represents violence against women, or that it requires loss of dignity. It is most often strongly disliked by those with religious backgrounds, as religion plays a great part in shaping morals. There is also an overlap between prostitution and trafficking, as many prostitutes are, or have been, trafficked; however, sex workers have said it is important to distinguish the two from each other, as they are not the same thing. Whereas trafficking is always done against the will of the person being transported, prostitution can involve consenting adults

As stated in the above paragraph, a common argument siding with the opinion that there are victims within prostitution, is that it endorses violence against women. There have been many accounts of sex workers who have been assaulted and beaten, often having things done to them against their will. There is a belief that women who work as prostitutes have somehow given up their human rights and are exempt from the rights to protection which are easily given to other citizens. Public discourses concerning female safety often mention the view that women who do not act responsible with how they act are 'asking for it' or should not have the right to public protection, as they put themselves in that situation by choice. However, a person's human rights should still apply no matter what they choose to do with themselves, as it is their own business, especially considering that quite a lot of prostitutes have been forced into the field through trafficking, fraud and such other ways, which I will discuss next.

There is also the argument talking about trafficking often overlapping with prostitution. It is widely believed that prostitution must involve trafficking in every instance, and while that isn't the case, approximately 40% of prostitutes have reported that they were former child prostitutes, meaning they were forced into the industry by either being trafficked or being a teenage runaway. 40%, while not being the majority, is still a very large number. Despite the clear overlap in prostitution and trafficking, there was a study done by two academics, Liz Kelly and Linda Regan, which investigated the extent of the sex trafficking problem within the UK. They concluded that the problem could be anywhere between two to twenty times larger than what we know, however the meaning of the term "trafficking" has been loosened and broadened, making it lose it's rightful impact. People have exaggerated the amount of trafficked prostitutes by making assumptions, and have used it to describe the general movement of all sex workers, even when they have willingly travelled somewhere themselves.

Another argument that sides with those who believe that prostitution is not a victimless crime is that both mental and physical health of the offender are affected by the profession itself. It has been shown that sex workers are under astounding amounts of stress which often lead to many psychological and physical health conditions. The most common psychological diagnosis reported by women who work in the prostitution field is depression with 35.1%, followed by anxiety with 19.9%, post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) with 12.7% and many others. These conditions on their own are bad enough, but when one considers that they can also lead to physical health complications such as Gastro-oesophageal Reflux Disease (GORD/GERD), a gastrointestinal tract related disease which can cause daily pain, poor sleep and food intolerance; depending on the severity of the symptoms, this condition can be debilitating. This isn't the only physical condition that can be developed. Besides the obvious sexually transmitted infections and diseases, things like peptic ulcers and Disseminated Gonococcal Infections (DGI) can also be developed, not necessarily related to stress, therefore even if the prostitute themselves doesn't find their job stressful at all, they are still at risk of physical health complications.

Another argument that supports the belief that prostitution victimises the very people that work in this field is that it causes substance abuse which in turn leads to a poor headspace, or vice versa. A study was conducted on 200 prostitutes, centred around substance abuse before or after starting their work. 55% of those that were questioned reported that they were addicted prior to starting their work in the field of prostitution. This would suggest that their addiction, leaving them in a vulnerable state, led them to start prostituting themselves due to them viewing it as the only way to get by. 30% reported that they developed an addiction after they started work. This would suggest that they suffered some kind of traumatic experiences during their time in this profession and had to resort to substance abuse in order to cope with it. The last 15% reported beginning to abuse substances concurrently with the beginning of their work. This could mean that they either got addicted around that time due to starting prior, or they began taking substances excessively in order to prevent traumatic experiences from taking over their lives. Overall, the suggestions here are grim and often point back to coping mechanisms or voluntary reality shifting in order to escape how they feel in the moment, which suggests that they are in fact victims of the profession itself.

An argument that agrees with the statement that prostitution is actually a victimless crime is that the criminalisation of prostitution is the main cause of the victimisation of anyone within the scenario, especially the offender. It is thought that criminalisation of prostitution is one of the leading structural factors that create vulnerability within the prostitutes. There is not only a link between criminalisation and violence against the individual providing the service, but also a link between criminalisation and HIV transmissions, further affecting the workers. Committing a crime in itself is seen as irresponsible and risky, meaning that society's generalised view of prostitution is that they are there because they have chosen to enter and stay in their situation. They also think that once someone enters the field of prostitution, they have immediately degraded themselves and they shouldn't complain, since it was their choice. This view in itself victimises sex workers, as now they feel that they are lesser and undeserving of protection rights. This in turn makes them more vulnerable and susceptible to violence. According to statistics, around 40% to 70% of prostitutes have or are experiencing some type of violence due to or within their career. This argument suggests that if prostitution was decriminalised, it would be a victimless activity or service; however, this is opposed by an observation of locations where prostitution is legal. It is shown that places that have made prostitution legal actually experience a larger amount of sex trafficking into the country, as do richer, more advanced countries with higher populations. A good example of this is Germany, which further legalised prostitution in 2002 by allowing third-party involvement. Now, Germany considers prostitution a regular job subject to tax payment and retirements, with about 150,000 people actively working as prostitutes. Despite this, the estimated stock of trafficking victims in 2004 was 32,800, which is about 62 times more than in Sweden, a country which re-criminalised prostitution in 1999.

Another argument which agrees with the claim that there are no victims within prostitution is that the act itself is consensual; both parties are willing to do it, therefore consent is present as long as both of the participants are of legal age. In our current society, we are given the right to freedom of choice, or rather the right to freedom of rational choice. This includes sexual activities. The laws surrounding consent have been put in place to protect people from having unwanted sexual experiences, whether that be outside the home or within it. Danger isn't exclusive to one place, and protection is a must no matter where someone is. However there is the issue of coercion and manipulation of someone into giving verbal consent, or at least not explicitly denying it. Many women in working the field of prostitution have said that they have felt distorted in their thinking, or powerless, unable to say no to sexual activities, no matter how much they were unwanted. The line between consensual and nonconsensual sexual activities within prostitution is purposely blurred by the industry itself. This is done in order to allow as much profit as possible, conditioning women from a young age that they shouldn't say no, because it will bring them a reward of some kind. This kind of treatment is inhuman and morally corrupt; it is the major problem within the field of prostitution. Thusly, the original argument about it being a consensual activity and not really being anyone else's business is invalid. Consent is only truly consent if it's conscious and informed.

To conclude this evaluation, after looking at the evidence presented in the form of statistics, statements from prostitutes themselves, and observational studies, there is a clear victim within the crime of prostitution; the prostitute themselves. They suffer from conditions, both mental and physical, caused by the activities required by their job. They are significantly more likely to be murdered than the average person, often suffering assault of many kinds at the hands of their clients, pimps, and in the case of kerb crawling, at the hands of people who are merely bored and need an easy target. Their vulnerable emotional state and lack of a stable life makes them susceptible to manipulation, extortion, coercion, and many other things that could affect their ability to consciously and honestly consent, without simply having to comply to the wants of their clients or "employers".

The arguments made against the presence of the victim in these deeds are easily disproved with studies, or just common sense. While it seems as though if prostitution was legal, there wouldn't be such an astounding amount of other issues (like trafficking and fraud) surrounding it, that was proven untrue by an observational study. The arguments were misinformed and based on speculation, some of them even disproving themselves whilst trying to make a point for themselves. It was very clear from the beginning that prostitution as an industry victimises those who work within it; more specifically, those who perform the sexual favours and acts. There is a shocking amount of lack of understanding of consent within the industry, leaving a lot of room for rape and other forms of violence.

Overall, while prostitutes themselves shouldn't be criminalised, seeing as they have been proven to be the victims in these scenarios, the actual act of prostitution shouldn't be endorsed or encouraged in any way. It does more harm than good, and it definitely harms a vast amount of people, whether it is knowingly or not doesn't really matter.

Bibliography: Legality of sex work: http://www.mash.org.uk/get-support/the-law/

Opinions on sex work: https://www.globalsistersreport.org/news/trafficking/worldwide-debate-about-sex-work-morality-meets-reality-48216

Opinions for and against: https://prostitution.procon.org/questions/is-prostitution-a-victimless-crime/

Violence against sex workers: http://sro.sussex.ac.uk/id/eprint/26912/1/Phipps_VAWchapter.pdf https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1111/j.0141-9889.2004.00405.x

Trafficking and prostitution: https://www.theguardian.com/uk/2009/oct/20/trafficking-numbers-women-exaggerated https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0305750X12001453#s0030

Criminalisation of sex work: https://d8dev.nswp.org/sites/default/files/impact_of_criminalisation_pb_prf01.pdf

Sex work and mental/physical health: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5735638/ https://www.researchgate.net/publication/349336426_Impact_of_Prostitution_on_Health

Consent within sex work: https://www.abc.net.au/news/2016-04-28/jensen-with-prostitution,-when-is-consent-not-consent/7363782

Substance abuse and sex work: https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/7143150/

General statistics: https://sex-crimes.laws.com/prostitution/prostitution-statistics

Notes: I have slightly changed the structure of this essay as it was kind of a disjointed mess, the arguments were all over the place. I fixed some typos and grammatical mistakes that I noticed. I now have an improved structure and I'm fairly proud of it. I will reblog it when it gets graded, hopefully I'll have some tips and pointers for improvement.

#criminology #essay

[diardiarmylove]

The Legendary Blacksmith

(Royal AU by @skesgo) [posted on mobile]

Today was one of the most busiest the marketplace has been. Monster and human merchants alike are hollering buyers for their goods and people are flocking over to obtain their needs, and wants. It’s so busy, in fact that the entire marketplace is crowded.

“I cannot believe you would come out here to what could be, the busiest, this marketplace has been.”, Vaio sighed at his friend’s antics.

“Hey, we wouldn’t get caught this way.”, Bleu grins up at him, making Vaio raise a brow.

While the prince is jovial about being out of the castle where expectations are almost chocking to his non-existent throat, Vaio was alert. There are many things that could go wrong with a crowded place. Too many unknown faces, with possible malicious intent, would sum it.

Wait.. where’s prince Bleu?

Suddenly, all adrenaline comes, and he begins to holler for the prince. He should easily be found even if he’s a good head shorter, right?

Unless, he’s no longer in the marketplace.

— TLB —

Meanwhile, Bleu looks around in search of his friend. Has he wondered too far? It is less crowded here. Where was he even? Are these the small alleys of the kingdom.

As he kept looking around he didn’t realize he bumped onto someone. The only reason he noticed was due to the clatter of metal.

Bleu turned around, an apologetic look in his face, “I am so sorry, I-I didn’t–!”, he stopped, it was a girl, with tied black hair, black gloves, a black apron, and a prominent rust on her face. He stared as the girl rushed to pick up said metal, and he snapped immediately offering to help, still apologizing profusely.

“It’s okay.”, she said calmly, “I’m more worried for you. You look lost, your majesty.”

Bleu immediately stiffens. Up until now, those he encountered never noticed him nor questioned much of his status.

As he kept thinking the worst of scenarios, he heard giggling, making him turn to the girl.

“The Crownsguard Captain Vaio talks about you sometimes.”, she states, and Bleu finally pieces things together, the clothing, the metal.

“You’re the Legendary Blacksmith?!”, Ira giggled once more at the shocked look Bleu wore.

He noticed that Vaio would sometimes leave to the marketplace alone, and his sword was always sharp, and shiny. He always thought Vaio cleans and sharpens his own sword. He never expected that he had it sharpened on a weekly, sometimes monthly basis, by the blacksmith this kingdom is so lucky to have.

The Legendary Blacksmith well known for the beauty, detail and the precision of their weapons. Sharp, but not too sharp; heavy, but not a burden to lug around; light, but a good damage.

“Yep! All your weapons is well cared off in my hands!”, she said with smug pride. “Anyways, your secret is safe with me, but I must ask — are you lost?”

“Me? Lost? Nahhhhhh.”, the girl raises a knowing brow, “Okay, yeah, I’m lost.”, he sighed. “I got separated with Vaio.”

The girl made a sound of understanding, nodding several times, “Well, I’ll direct him to my shop. Weiss.”, Bleu was about to question who, until a floating book appeared, “Can you look for Vaio at the marketplace for me? Surely by now he had summoned the whole Crownsguard to search for our lost Prince here.”

The book, without a word, quickly left, and the girl nods the prince her way, and guided him out of the alleys.

“No offense. But I’m kind of guessing the reason you don’t know this place is because of the crimes that happen here.”

“Yeah, Vaio keeps me away from the alleys. I kind of thought it’s stereotypical, but.. crimes?”

“Human Trafficking, Kidnapping, Murders, Theft, even caught bigoted thugs beating up monsters — almost no one uses these shortcuts for those reasons.”

“And what of you?”, he tilts his head her way, as a form of curiosity.

“No one would dare fight a woman who has crafted, tested, and fought with the same weapons she made.” Bleu nods in agreement before he stopped mid-nod, before stopping entirely and stared at the girl beside him. “What’s with the face? Who do you think tests the thing before I hand it over to my client for a second opinion?”

“Wait, hold on. Even the great sword that’s almost twice your size?!”, she hums in agreement. “No way.”

“That’s a theory I’ll let you keep until you find out yourself.”

“What?! No, c’mon, tell me.”

“Nope!”

— TLB —

It took twenty minutes or more to finally bring Bleu to her shop. As expected, Vaio was there, an irritated look and an impatient posture.

“Vaio!”, Bleu calls and rushes to him.

“Where in King’s name have you been?!”, he then turned to the girl. “Better be thankful that Lady Ira has found you. Those alleys are dangerous!”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay to get lost, just not too often and absolutely not in the most safest of places in our beloved kingdom.”, the blacksmith, Ira, as Bleu now knows her is, perks up, before leaning at the stall. “Now, your sword looks like it went through a bit tear ‘n wear. Want me to take a look at it?”

Vaio nods, before taking the sword of the strap that’s part of his uniform and hands it to her. “Surely I owe you for finding his majesty.”

The girl hums playfully. “You were in quite the long mission, and it’s surely evident on your sword. Tell ya what.”, she puts Vaio’s sword down and took another one. The blade was a shining silver with angelic writing carved into the length of it, the hilt was covered with black and white clothing that’s soft to the touch, and where the hilt ended and the blade began, was Flowers around it. She placed it gently on the stall. “I recently tested it, but I required a second opinion. Take it with you on your next mission, and in the meantime, I’ll replace the blade of your precious. Of course, free of charge.”

Vaio smirks and took the sword gently, inspecting it, “Free of charge, at the price of the best deserts the royal pastry chef can offer.”

“So that’s why Vaio sometimes bring cake?! For all I knew he had someone to court.”

“Well, I have to keep my mind straight and sugar just does that for me. Besides, I don’t think the Crownsguard Captain would be open to the idea of courtship while protecting his majesty.”

“Well, I believe we must go. The king may have my head if I don’t bring you home soon.”, Vaio sighs, “Thank you again, Lady Ira. I will return by the next week.”, he turns and leaves, Bleu following close by

“Take care!”, they heard her yell, before her stall closes, until the next client arrives.

Maybe Bleu should come with Vaio next week.

#royal au #g!swap sans #g!sf sans #bleu #vaio #skesgo #ira arme #ira armé

[trippinglynet]

Drug Use for Grown Ups by Dr. Carl L Hart

“I am an unapologetic drug user. I take drugs as part of my pursuit of happiness and they work” begins Dr. Carl Hart’s newly released book, Drug Use for Grown Ups: Chasing Liberty in the Land of Fear.

Dr. Carl Hart is a professor of Psychology at Columbia University and the former the Psychology Department Chair. He is a research scientist that focuses his efforts on understanding drug use and drug addiction. His personal journey took him from being a supporter of strict drug laws with harsh penalties to being an advocate of legalization and science-based public policies.

His new book, Drug Use for Grown Ups, explains why drug policies in the United States are deeply flawed, often propped up by racist appeals and unsupported by science. Dr. Hart’s personal story is also compelling, and he effectively weaves his own narrative throughout the book providing a fresh perspective on the issues.

Dr. Hart grew up in a poor neighborhood. He used and sold drugs, and kept a gun in his car. After completing high school he joined Air Force, which started him on the path of higher education. Ultimately he earned a Ph.D in neuroscience, in large part because he wanted to solve the issue of addiction, which he blamed for many of the problems his childhood neighborhood faced.

As his knowledge grew, his perspective changed. He began to see drug abuse as a symptom of a problem, rather than its cause. Unemployment, racism, classism, poverty, and boredom contribute to drug abuse. In contrast, he recognized that physically and mentally healthy people may choose to use drugs to increase their personal happiness, without imposing any cost on society and little or no harm to themselves. Recreationally he has used, and in some cases continues to use drugs to improve his life. Among the drugs he has used are heroin, MDMA and cannabis.

Drug Use for Grown Ups has been released at a perfect time. Decriminalization of cannabis has lead to a broader reconsideration of drug policies. The voters of Oregon recently voted to decriminalize all drugs, and focus resources on treating those who experience troubles. In the coming years our social policies toward drugs and their users will be reconsidered, and Dr. Hart’s message needs to be heard loud and clear in any debate.

Let’s take a moment to review some of the themes Dr. Hart touches upon.

the War on Drugs

The foundation of American drug policy has never been the public’s good health. Instead, it has been a tool used by politicians and law enforcement to consolidate power and advance personal objectives. The War on Drugs has been and always will be a war on the poor and people of color. It has been used to stoke fear in middle America, often using deeply racist rhetoric. The prize is large: A $35 billion industry. An industry that relies on one drug crisis after another to sustain it.

A now familiar refrain began in earnest over 100 years ago, when white America was first warned of the pending dangers of drug abuse. In 1914, a New York Times article announced “Negro Cocaine ‘Fiends’ Are a New Southern Menace.” (See insert). The author, an accomplished physician, warned of the “Negro fiend’s'“ homicidal propensities, and super human abilities: “[T]he deadly accuracy of the cocaine user has become axiomatic in Southern police circles…. the record of the ‘cocaine nigger’ near Asheville who dropped five men dead in their tracks using only one cartridge for each, offers evidence that is sufficiently convincing.” [FN]

But we need not look back 100 years to see this same rhetoric. The crazed super-human negro theme appeared in 1991, when Rodney King was badly beaten by Los Angeles police. The assault was justified initially by the claim King was on PCP at the time of the beating, and the use of PCP, it was reported, can give super human strength.[FN] When toxicology showed no traces of PCP, the argument became that it was reasonable for the officers to use overwhelming force because they believe King was on PCP. [FN] Missing from news reports is the demonstrated fact that PCP does nothing to increase human strength, although it can reduce the perception of pain as one is badly beaten.

When Trayvon Martin was shot to death by George Zimmerman in 2012, Zimmerman’s lawyer argued that Mr. Martin’s drug use could have made him aggressive and paranoid [FN]. While barring testimony that Martin regularly used marijuana, the judge in the case allowed a toxicology report to be admitted that showed trace amounts of THC in his body. The amounts were well below the threshold for any type of intoxication, and suggest that he had not used marijuana for at least twenty-four hours.[FN] As Dr. Hart notes, Zimmerman’s “[defense team] reverted to the familiar and tired marijuana-crazed Negro script, illustrating the enduring persuasive power of this myth.”

And in 2014, while peacocking his proposed harsh drug legislation, Maine Governor Paul LePage sounds the familiar tune of the negro menace coming to town, and leaving in their wake a trail of drug-fueled destruction and impregnated white girls.

Wait, what? Impregnated white girls? Yup, read (or better yet, watch the video):

I’ve got a bill into the legislature right now to take the traffickers….these are not the people who take drugs….These are guys with the name D-Money, Smoothie, Shifty. These types of guys, they come from Connecticut and New York. They come up here, they sell their heroin, then they go back home. Incidentally, half the time they impregnate a young, white girl before they leave, which is a real sad thing because then we have another issue that we got to deal with down the road.

A racist dog whistle through a bullhorn, cynically used by the Governor of one of the whitest states in the nation.

These drug laws, enacted via race-based fear mongering, are often drafted to primarily impact poor and BIPOC communities. Selective enforcement further leverages their discorporate impact on vulnerable populations. Dr. Hart notes, for example, that the infamous 1973 Rockefeller drug laws in New York State created mandatory 15 years to life sentences for the possession of small amounts of heroine or other drugs, and “More than 90 percent of those convicted under the Rockefeller laws were black or Latino, even though they represented a minority of drug users.” And one should not forget the crack cocaine laws, which provided penalties of 100 times that of powdered cocaine, despite there being little difference between the two compounds other than the manner in which they are ingested (smoking vs. snorting), and the population perceived to be using them (black vs. white).

The False Science of Drug Abuse Policy

"There are virtually no data on humans indicating that responsible recreational drug use causes brain abnormalities in otherwise healthy individuals. "

As a research scientist, Dr. Hart is able to go beyond reviewing the contemptible motivations and tactics of some of the anti-drug crusaders, and addresses head on the science of drug use. Drug policy should be routed in public health concerns, not in political power grabs. U.S. government action should be designed to promote those values articulated in our Declaration of Independence, which guarantees our citizens the birthrights of “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.” Dr. Hart correctly notes that the Declaration of Independence “proclaims each person’s right to live as they see fit, as long as they do not interfere with others’ ability to do the same. And it declares that governments are created ‘to secure these rights,’ not to restrict them.”

A common sense approach to drug regulation is for the government to balance public health concerns and an individual’s pursuit of personal happiness, using scientific data to weigh the costs and benefits of restricting individual freedom. The first step in this process is to look at objective, peer-reviewed scientific studies of drug use. It turns out this isn’t as easy as it should be.

First, studies often show that either the harm from drugs isn’t particularly high. For example, back in 1972, Richard Nixon declared drugs to be “Enemy Number One”, and the phrase “The War on Drugs” became popularized, which included aggressive prosecution of marijuana use. This was simultaneous with Nixon’s own Shafer Commission releasing its finding, following a comprehensive, science-based analysis of the issue of marijuana use in the United States. It found “No significant physical, biochemical, or mental abnormalities could be attributed solely to their marihuana smoking” and recommended decriminalization of its possession.[FN] It’s no surprise that one of Nixon’s closest aids later told a journalist that the War on Drugs was a war on the “antiwar left and black people”[FN]

"Over my more than twenty-five-year career, I have discovered that most drug-use scenarios cause little or no harm and that some responsible drug-use scenarios are actually beneficial for human health and functioning."

But what about studies that do find drugs to create some type of harm? As Dr. Hart developed his professional expertise he came to a troubling conclusion: “I came to realize that drug-abuse scientists, especially government-funded ones, focus almost exclusively on the detrimental effects of drugs, even though these are, in fact, a minority of effects.” And concluded, “over my more than twenty-five-year career, I have discovered that most drug-use scenarios cause little or no harm and that some responsible drug-use scenarios are actually beneficial for human health and functioning.”

Dr. Hart calls out bias at National Institute of Drug Addiction, and in particular, the roll of Dr. Nora Vokow, NIDA’s director. NIDA is a government agency, with an annual budget in excess of $1 billion. Many scientists rely on NIDA grant money to do their studies. While recognizing Dr. Vokow as an accomplished researcher, Dr. Hart also paints a picture of a bully, who overstates the negative impact that recreational drugs have on the brain, while essentially ignoring any benefits. Many scientists don’t publicly share their views for fear of repercussion, including the loss of critical funding from the NIDA. In short, “it is difficult to disentangle politics from science when dealing with a federal organization such and NIDA.” Personally, I doubt that a research agency that names itself “National Institute of Drug Addiction” rather than the “National Institute of Drug Health” is likely to produce unbiased analysis anytime soon.

Unfortunately, the issue goes beyond the almost inevitable bias in U.S. government funded studies. Even when a scientific study is well designed, researchers can interpret the results to support their own pre-conceived notions, an issue Dr. Hart provides evidence of. The press can then take the study and further distort findings with sensational headlines. Dr. Hart takes the time to walk through several examples where these distortion have occurred as well. He also provides a basic framework on how to read studies, and to interpret their results. He even spends a fair amount of pages criticizing his own early work, which reflected a lack of working knowledge of the substances being studied, resulting in flawed study design.

Finally, the government can then selectively pick studies to support whatever policy they wish to pursue, typically one that will require more government and more funding for law enforcement. We have already seen how the Nixon administration ignored its own committee’s findings to pursue an anti-drug agenda. The prohibition of LSD and psilocybin was also driven almost entirely by politics, with barely a fig leaf of scientific data to support it, and only after over fifty years of active repression of scientific research is the therapeutic value of these substances once again being documented in double blind studies.

And for MDMA, a drug that has always shown significant promise for treating psychiatric conditions, the DEA effectively shut down research into its benefits in 1985, arguing MDMA need not have caused any actual harm to be placed in Schedule I, and that a potential for abuse was sufficient. [FN] Today, both psilocybin and MDMA are on the verge of being available for legal use under medical supervision. Even Peter Jennings and ABC News took our politicians to task for their treatment of MDMA in a 2004 special news report. (See insert).

The hypocrisy and personal greed of politicians who promote the War on Drugs is clear. But perhaps no clearer than in the case of John Boehner, the former Republican Speaker of the House, who opposed cannabis during his three decades of government service. He retired in 2015 and three years later did a complete about face from his prior thirty years in government by supported cannabis legalization. Why the quick change? He joined the board of Acreage Holdings, a Canadian firm that is the largest multi-state owner of cannabis licenses and assets in the United States. Shockingly, when asked about regrets in promoting an anti-Cannabis that resulted in mass incarceration, he noted “I don’t have any regrets at all” and when pressed elaborated “The whole criminal justice part of this, frankly, it never crossed my mind”. As Dr. Hart notes, Boehner doesn’t “seem to give one fuck about the extensive harms caused by the prohibitory policies he once supported.”[FN]

Stigmatization and The path to effective policy

We’ve already seen the harmful motivation of politicians, the challenges of bunk science, but a third factor really colors everything. The stigmatization of drug users.

A few years back, when Trippingly.net was suddenly gaining unexpected media attention, an interviewer asked why I had started a “harm prevention website”. Irritated, I shot back that Trippingly was not a harm reduction website. The confused and well-intentioned interviewer asked me what Trippingly was, if not focused on harm reduction. I stumbled at bit, before clumsily declaring it to be an “awesomeness enhancing website”.

It wasn’t an unfair question really. At the time, virtually every website that discussed the recreational use of drugs wrote disclaimers that they didn’t advocate the use of drugs, and hid behind the veil of “harm reduction.” I didn’t even immediately understand my own frustration at the question, but underlying my emotional outburst was frustration of the very premise of the question; the premise that any website that focuses on drug use must be dedicated to reducing some type of harm, despite almost all Trippingly’s content being focused on the positives I perceived associated with psychedelics and many other drugs.

Dr. Hart also bristles at phrase “harm reduction”. For him, “It doesn’t capture the complexities associated with grown-up activities such as love or war or drug use. Instead, it preoccupies us with drug-related harms. And the connection between harms and drug use is reinforced repeatedly through our speech.” Maximizing the safety of any activity, whether it be driving a new car, engaging in a new workout regime, or embarking on drug use has safety as an element, but not the primary focus. Dr. Hart suggests a better phrase would be “Health and Happiness”, which focuses on both using compounds safely, and using them in a manner that promotes personal happiness.

Again, effective public policy is one that balances the health of the user (and any concurrent costs to society) and the user’s happiness and personal freedom. The current prohibition culture fails society and users alike by creating more problems than it solves.

The use of virtually any recreational drug in an appropriate setting by a healthy user is likely to be safe at a reasonable dose. Troubles begin when a user takes a drug in an unsafe environment, at an inappropriate dose or when the drug has been adulterated. The criminalization of drug use has made each of these problems worse, not better.

The first step in safe drug use is education and information. A drug user should have access to clear, science-based information on how, where and how much to take a drug. And the drug user should have access to pharmaceutical grade compounds. The quickest route, of course, is legalization of all drugs, including the legalization of sale and distribution of pharmaceutical grade drugs. Until that day, providing education to drug users about the effects, dosages and risks coupled with inexpensive and anonymous testing of psychoactive compounds would go a long way toward true harm reduction.

Let’s consider this proposition by examining one of the most controversial drugs, heroin. Remember, Dr. Hart has noted that he has used heroin for years, without creating any social harm, and suffering no apparent adverse medical effects. He even deliberately used heroin daily to develop a dependency to better understand withdrawal (very unpleasant, but manageable).

We have all been bombarded with the latest drug crisis, the Opioid Crisis. When we dig down a bit, the crisis is not quite what it seems. Let’s take heroin as an example. Heroin presents risks to the user. But Dr. Hart introduces us to Barbara Broers, a professor at the University of Geneva, who notes (in a quiet, and matter-of-fact tone), “Heroin is one of the safest drugs.” Dr. Hart reaction at hearing this at the time likely reflects most people’s: “I’m not exactly sure what I said or if I even said anything, but I am certain that the incredulous look on my face communicated, ‘Get the fuck out of here!’”

Dr. Hart next systematically walks through the risks and statistics associated with opioid use: most heroin users do not become addicted, but risks increase if you are young, unemployed or have co-occurring psychiatric disorders. Perhaps more importantly for public policy, the real concern is adulterants in heroin. The presence of fentanyl when a user is expected heroin can kill. The issue isn’t that fentanyl is so inherently dangerous. It’s that the effective dose of heroin is much larger than that of fentanyl, and the unexpected substitution can easily cause a user to overdose.

The unpredictability of the heroin supply has driven many users to take prescription pills, such as Percocet or Vicodin, however, these drugs contain only a small amount of opioid and a larger dose of acetaminophen. So a user chasing a opioid high might be tempted to take several pills to achieve their goal, but in doing so risk liver damage from the acetaminophen. Similarly, users that combine opioid and a sedative, such as alcohol, greatly increase their risk.

Note, that none of these issues are inherent in the use of heroin. They are caused by the prohibition of heroin, which creates both an unreliable black market and an information gap. Dr. Hart aptly concludes: “People are not dying because of opioids; they are dying because of ignorance.”

The same argument can be made with almost all drugs that are subject to the prohibition. For example, next time you read about an overdose death on MDMA, in all probability the death is the result of the drug’s true content or strength being misrepresented to users, or the drug being mixed by the user with other drugs.

A Note on Drug Exceptionalism

No all reform efforts rest at the feet of politicians. We all share responsibility to move the ball forward. Most readers of Trippingly are seeking information about psychedelics. The psychedelic community historically is unusually well educated, financially stable and predominantly white, although for the past few years I have witnessed a rapid and welcomed demographic diversification. Nonetheless, even with the shifting demographics, one will quickly encounter drug exceptionalism in our community.

Dr. Hart recounts being approached by a middle-aged white military veteran who shared his experience with “plant medicines” he used not to “get high” but to facilitate his “spiritual journey”. Dr. Hart felt some contempt, not anger at the man personally, but a general annoyance “with the mental gymnastics that some psychedelic users perform in order to distance themselves from other drug users.”

I have always advocated for the recreational use of drugs, along with the use for personal growth and healing. In many ways I believe the lines people draw between these categories are fairly arbitrary and almost always self-serving. As a frequent public speaker, I often encounter drug exceptionalism. Almost always certain drugs are viewed in a favorable light, while others viewed negatively. Tellingly, which drugs belong in which bucket varies predictably depending on my median age and race of my audience.

My first observation speaking to groups is that once I declare myself as a strong proponent of the recreational use of drugs, including the recreational use of psychedelics, I find most of the audience seems to breath a collective sigh of relief. Yes, it’s ok to have a good time on psychedelics and not have to always deal with heavy stuff. Here’s your permission slip. Enjoy.

But then things get tricky. I don’t view the use of psychedelics as being in any way morally superior to the use of any other compound. I do believe (with certainty) that certain drugs require a higher experience level and diligence than others. Some drugs are plain simple to use. Others are not. However, in the psychedelic world there is a common hierarchy of drugs, which might look a little like this: Ayahuasca> mushrooms/LSD> MDMA> Adderall> crystal meth> heroin. I suspect that almost everyone in an average psychedelic discussion group would agree with this ranking if they were entitled to switch only one ranking. Dr. Hart takes this thinking to task.

First, he notes that the distinction between having “a good time” and healing or spiritual enlightenment is often difficult to parse. “Sacred experiences that positively affect one’s self-perception, worldview, goals, and ability to transcend one’s difficulties are hard to separate from one’s feelings of pleasure or happiness.” What’s more, he notes he has experienced all these effects after taking non-psychedelic drugs.

Dr. Hart goes on to note that he wouldn’t classify MDMA as a psychedelic. “It is an amphetamine, period.” And of course he is right. MDMA creates an experience that is distinct from many other amphetamines, but its chemical composition makes it an amphetamine. Moreover, the subjective experience of ecstasy is far more closely aligned with other stimulants than any classic psychedelic. Nonetheless, Dr. Hart is undoubtedly correct in his conclusion that “MDMA is categorized as a psychedelic by respectable, middle-class white folk because they use and enjoy it.”

We owe it ourselves and others to look beyond this type of elitism. Choose your own intention but abandon any pretense of superiority when it comes to our substance of choices.

Closing Thoughts

While Drug Use for Grown-Ups is an important book, it is also an enjoyable read. Some of Dr. Hart’s most moving material only relates tangentially to drugs. His relationship with his wife and son and the racism they encounter are powerful. The risk associated with vulnerability Dr. Hart describes is heart breaking, and an important read for anyone who has not experienced systemic racism. Hart’s own struggle to be open about his drug use, and his call for others in positions of power (and privilege) are important messages to the growing mass of middle and upper class people who have discovered drug use to be a powerful way to improve their quality of life.

A new War on Drugs is starting. It is a cultural war, in which we can no longer afford to allow half truths and outright lies be told. And war in which we must not allow people to be marginalized because their choice of drug is not our choice of drug.

#Book Review #Dr. Carl L Hart #Decriminalization #Public policy #Columbia University #Heroin #Cocaine #MDMA #THC

[the-original-b]

Archangel: For the Good of the Public, Part 2

Format: Prose / Fiction, multi-entry

Part in Series: 2 of 3 (Part 1 | Masterlist)

Word Count: 3,900

Premise: She’s an assassin--one of the finest in the world--which gives her the right to ask for vast sums of money to do what she does so well. But every so often there comes a job she’s happy to do for free.

Warning(s): blood, violence

Seza monitored Teller from a distance as he and Cross conversed with representatives of the Sen Guren Yakuza clan behind the warehouses at the docks. She kept her hands together in front of her lap as she watched them, mindful of the armed men from both factions on either side of her. She knew the conversation could turn violent with a single utterance; she was unarmed, and every scenario she played out in her head ended in her injury or death.

She mused to herself how much more useful a blade would be than a gun in the hypothetical close quarters combat likely to erupt at any moment, and found herself eyeing the sheathed shōtō sword the Yakuza leader carried in his left hand like a scepter.

“And that’s it, Mr. Takahashi,” Teller concluded. “From here the incoming merchandise can go anywhere in the Tri-State area. You name it, we can move it.”

Takahashi’s translator, a young lady dressed in a modest suit, relayed Teller’s message, and forwarded his response. “Takahashi-sama agrees with you on this locale’s advantages,” she began, “but advises you to be cautious. He says the waterfront is very often watched by both allies and enemies.”

Cross nodded. “Mr. Teller has a man on the inside at the docks. That’s not an issue.”

The translator relayed the message and Takahashi—a bespectacled older gentleman with a full head of jet black hair dressed in a black suit, shirt, and tie—replied with an offer. “Takahashi-sama suggests a trade, to test this assertion of yours. You sell women into prostitution, yes?”

“Among other things…”

“Four dozen, then. To be paid for in full.”

Teller stopped himself from laughing aloud. “And where the bloody hell am I supposed to find forty-eight women for you—?”

Cross stepped between them, leaning into Teller. Seza held her breath as the others tensed up.

“See that right there?” Cross whispered, “You don’t do that, not to these people. I’m putting my hide on the line doing you this favor, buying your way out of your local-leg-breaking garbage, do not screw this up for either of us..!”

Teller exhaled and rolled his eyes, spreading his arms and backing away.

Cross took a moment to compose himself then turned to face Takahashi and his translator. “Takahashi-sama,” he entreated. “My associate here meant no disrespect, it’s just that the current inventory is spoken for. At the moment we can only spare…” he looked over his shoulder at Teller.

“Ten.”

“Ten women,” he concluded. “We can notify you as we replenish our stock.”

Takahashi’s translator relayed the message, and Takahashi himself chuckled venomously. He replied for the other men to hear him. “Then I will take what you have.” He took slow, measured steps toward the two men, resting his free hand on the sword’s hilt as he approached. “You will supply me with what you can spare, and you will receive payment when all forty-eight have been delivered.”

Cross stopped Teller with a hand gesture. “Not a problem,” he said.

Takahashi smirked, then signaled his men to leave their posts and head to their respective vehicles. “Payment in full upon completion of the order,” he repeated, holding his hand out for Teller. “With interest of course. A good faith gesture.”

Teller took Takahashi’s hand and shook it. “Agreed.”

Takahashi released Teller’s hand and uttered something in Japanese. “We will be in contact to arrange for your first delivery,” his translator said. He gave Cross and Teller a respectful nod then turned and headed for the back seat of his car; his translator followed, entering through the front passenger side door. After a few moments, the fleet of cars took off, leaving Teller and his associates behind at the docks.

Seza finally let herself breathe normally after what seemed like an eternity.

“Why have a translator if he speaks English just fine?” Cross wondered, reaching into his inside coat pocket for a cigar.

“For when he can afford for what he has to say to be lost in translation,” Cross replied. He retrieved a butane torch from his coat pocket and held it out for Cross, his thumb resting on the trigger. “You know,” he added, pulling the torch away from Teller before lighting his cigar, “I just realized something. You have a shitload of bodies on deck—the sixty or so ready to be auctioned off at Brimstone tomorrow, plus the ten extra you said you had ready to move, and I’m betting there’s more. Which adds up,” he continued as he turned to face the other man, “to an absolute metric fuck-ton of skin. And as your little temper tantrum in front of my associate has made crystal clear to me, I can’t trust you to maintain them.” He pocketed his lighter again. “I will be managing them from here on. They’re mine now. So tell me, Christopher,” he added with a wry smirk. “Where are my bodies at?”

~~~~

Cross let Teller and a few of his associates lead him through the warehouse where the kidnapped men and women were kept, inspecting their quarters and ensuring their humane conditions. Seza studied each of their faces, looking for Samantha Calloway’s among them.

He motioned a door to a locked storage closet. “And what’s in there?”

“Oh, that’s nothing,” Teller started, “we store our old—”

“Chris, are you serious? Open it up.”

Teller sighed to himself quietly, and signaled one of his men to unlock the door and open it. Cross was able to see inside despite the lack of ambient light, and gawked at what he saw.

There was a twin mattress in the far corner of the space, and on it sat a girl—holding her knees close to her chest and resting her head on them. She looked up at the adults as they stared back at her. She couldn’t have been older than sixteen.

Seza recognized Samantha’s face immediately. As did Cross. He let out a slow breath as he let his head hang. “I thought we understood each other, Chris.” He slid his hands into his coat pockets.

“Human trafficking,” Teller said. “What’s there to understand?”

“What’s there to understand..?” Cross’s frustration manifested as laughter. “Do you have any idea who that is? The people her family are connected to?”

Teller looked at each of his people in the building with them; when nobody spoke up Teller looked back at Cross and shrugged. “Some bird we picked up off the street in front of a shopping mall.”

“That’s Scarlett Marlow—yes, that Scarlett Marlow.”

Seza heard about the Marlow family out on the west coast, and was familiar with their partnership with semi-legitimate enterprises nationwide. Suddenly it made sense to her why Scarlett’s parents tried to hide their name from the public—they were connected to one of the largest criminal networks in the country. That made them targets.

“Jane,” Cross ordered, addressing Seza, “get her out of here.”

“Don’t you fucking move, Jane.”

Cross pressed his mouth into a thin line, holding back his verbal wrath as he gently shut the door to the room Scarlett was held in. “You kidnapped gangland royalty, you idiot..! If they find out you’re the one who scooped her up and sold her to the Yakuza, nobody will be able to save you—not me, not Takahashi, not one single god damn soul..!” He took a breath to compose himself again. “Do you really want to be anywhere near the heat of an international mob war?”

“You said it yourself, she’s royalty,” Chris retorted. “That means they’ll pay a premium for her. I’m not giving her back without getting something for it—”

“No.” Cross repeated. “You will open that door and take her back to her family warm and clean with a fresh set of clothes, with all her little fingers and toes still attached to her. Then you will call Karin Marlow, personally, and apologize to her for kidnapping her granddaughter, saying you had no idea who she was. Then, you will happily accept whatever punishment she dishes out, and you will thank her for it.”

Teller shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. You just told me the mother of all power plays is sitting in that room,” he said, pointing at the door behind Cross. “And if you think I’m just going to let it slip through my fingers then you can fuck right off.”

“I am the only thing between you and my friend, Christopher,” Cross said. “The only thing keeping you alive right now.”

Seza noticed Teller’s fists clench again, the same way they did back in the office on Pehle Avenue, and Teller got the same look in his eyes as before. It was obvious to everyone present that Cross was one slip of the tongue away from having the life squeezed from him, only this time there was no desk in the way to save him from the giant angry man he antagonized.

“And I am suggesting,” he continued, “that you get rid of the girl, Christopher. I’m serious… do I have to show you how serious?” He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head toward Teller a little, to emphasize his point. “Again?”

Teller’s eyes narrowed as he took a step toward Cross, towering over him. “That’s twice today, Peter,” he growled. “Only twice will I, or shall I let you get away with threatening me in front of my men. And if it happens a third time I’ll break you in two…”  He snapped his fingers and one of his minions quietly stepped up to lock the door behind Cross again, then slipped back behind the others. “Consider this a friendly reminder—you keep your pet psycho on a short leash,” he concluded through clenched teeth, seething. “Or I’ll fucking hang you from it..!”

With that, Teller turned and stepped away, leading his associates back to their cars waiting outside. Seza turned to follow them, shooting a glance back over her shoulder at the locked door and briefly locking eyes with Cross before eventually joining the others outside.

Cross let out an exasperated sigh, alone in the warehouse space. “Something drastic,” he conceded, slipping his hands back into his pockets. “Fuck you, Chris.” He started for the door. “Seriously... Fuck. You.”

 ~~~~

Cross opened the rear driver-side door of his SUV, then removed his coat and threw it across the bench. He shut the door and entered the car, taking a seat behind the steering wheel and placing his head against the rest as he shut his eyes and exhaled. Finally he reached into the pocket of his coat behind him for his cell phone and dialed her number.

The woman answered in a husky, resonant voice after three rings. “What do you want, Cross?”

“Good evening to you too, Kat.”

Kat sighed on the other end of the line. “Hello, Peter,” she added sarcastically. “Nice to hear from you this evening.” She reclaimed her prior tone. “Now what the fuck do you need?”

“That friend of mine we had to discipline? It’s gotten worse, now he has to go away… I need to use the Viper again. Let him loose at Brimstone in the middle of the auction.”

“The Viper is indisposed,” she said. “Just left to clean up a cartel mess south of the border.”

“That’s not exactly a here-and-now problem, is it?”

“And yours is?”

“That friend I mentioned? I just found out he kidnapped Karin Marlow’s granddaughter, and has designs on selling her back for ransom, or worse. So yeah, it’s a here-and-now problem.”

Kat was quiet on the other end. “I see… Still, the Viper is already in play elsewhere—I can’t bring him back yet.”

“So what Special Activities strings can you pull to defuse this situation before it explodes in all of our faces, Agent Irons?”

“None,” she said. “But I may be able to arrange something, off Special Activities’ books… I just sent you a few documents. Tell me when you receive them.”

Cross pulled the phone away from his ear and put Kat on speaker. He looked at the screen until the email was visible. “Got it. What am I looking at?” he asked as he opened the correspondence.

“A dossier. Former KSK operator, current private contractor. He’s not as, enthusiastic, as the Viper but he’s done me more than a few favors. Milo Johannes Krueger—although you may know him better by his nom de guerre.”

Cross looked at the name and operations list that accompanied the photos. His eyes widened. “Archangel..!”

“Not anymore,” Kat noted. “He abandoned the alias some time ago. But make no mistake, the only thing that’s changed is what he calls himself these days.”

“How do I reach him?”

“You won’t,” she said plainly. “I’ll make the arrangements with him on your behalf.”

“You’re telling me you’re hiring Archangel for a job on my behalf and I don’t even get to meet him?” Cross jested. “When will you ever stop teasing me, Kat?”

“Maybe when you start solving your own problems,” she commented. “I just forwarded the job to Krueger—he’ll get it done. You can sleep easy tonight.”

“Oh, Kathleen, I don’t deserve you.” His grin was audible.

“No, Peter,” Kat returned. “You don’t.”

 ~~~~

When Seza returned to the office on Pehle avenue to retrieve her car, she was given a burner phone to take calls from Chris Teller. She thanked him for it and immediately headed back to the warehouse by the water for Scarlett. She parked her car a ways from the front gate and retrieved a combat knife she kept in the center console before heading in.

She sidestepped the meager security measures in place and gained entry to the building unnoticed. Seated by the hallway opening was a lone security guard she recognized as the one who held the key to the room in which her target was being held; his ankles crossed atop the desk in front of him as he leaned back in his chair, eyes buried in the most recent Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue.

As slowly and carefully as a praying mantis, Seza approached her prey from behind holding her left hand out to her side and clutching her trusted blade in her right, ready to strike at the perfect moment.

She pounced on the guard, cupping his mouth with her open left hand and reaching across his neck with her right, then pulling her hand back quickly to run the blade across his neck and open it. She backed away as the guard fell backward onto his chair, trying in vain to stop the bleeding as life quickly left him.

When the guard stopped moving and his stare went blank, Seza crouched down beside him to wipe her knife off on his clothes before returning it to its sheath, then leaned over his lifeless body to fetch the key ring clipped to his belt loop. She stood up and exited the makeshift room as she scanned each key looking for the one to the storage room.

When she arrived she examined the lock in the door, and found the key that sported the same brand name. She took a breath and slid the key into place, turning her wrist to unlock the door.

“Samantha?” she softly called.

Silence behind the door.

“Scarlett?” She slowly pulled the door open to look into the room, and her heart sank when she beheld what was inside.

Nothing.

Teller somehow beat her to Scarlett, having her moved from the warehouse to someplace else nobody knew. Nobody except perhaps the sentry she’d just killed not two minutes ago.

Seza cursed herself for not leaving him alive to question, then pushed the door shut and turned the key to lock it again. She looked around her at all the other closed doors, where so many other men and women were held against their will. Briefly, she considered freeing them, but decided against it and moved back toward the front of the hall. She wasn’t there for them, after all.

Careful not to step in the pool of blood under her victim, Seza returned the key ring to his belt loop before exiting the warehouse through where she entered.

 ~~~~

Seza sat at her kitchenette table the following afternoon—her hair still wet from her shower, her towel still wrapped around her chest—studying Scarlett Marlow’s photo in the missing child poster the took from her building’s front door the day before. She figured if Chris Teller was smart, he wouldn’t have her harmed as long as it didn’t make sense to, so time was still on her side in that regard. However, she was no closer to recovering her than she was twenty-four hours ago.

At the very least, she figured, she knew who was behind her abduction. That gave her a place to start digging for information. She could question his lieutenants, or skip the literal middle men and confront Teller himself, but she knew nobody in the organization trusted her enough to be alone with her in any capacity for any length of time that mattered. She would have to get clever in finding a way to question them.

Her burner phone rang and vibrated across the table from her. She reached out to answer the call, taking a moment to reclaim her false accent before speaking. “Hello?”

“You busy tonight, Jane?” Teller’s voice in her ear.

“Uh, no,” she said “I haven’t—”

“You are now. How soon can you get here?”

Seza stood up and headed for her closet. “I’ll be there in an hour.” She ended the call and removed her towel to dry her hair and get dressed.

 ~~~~

She arrived at the Pehle Avenue office fifty-eight minutes later in a pair of dark jeans, a form-fitting sweater, and mid-calf boots under her pea coat, and walked into the space to find Teller sporting a pale gray waistcoat and slacks with cognac colored shoes, a white shirt, and an aqua blue tie. He stood facing the wall to her right, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows and pat-drying blood off his hands with a white towel.

“Right on time,” he acknowledged her. “Be a dear would you?” he added, discarding the crimson rags. “Call an ambulance for him.” He gestured what was left of another man behind him, sprawled out across the floor. “Tell ‘em he got hit by a car.”

Seza watched as two other men in the room scraped the victim up off the floor and dragged him toward the door. She caught a glimpse of his injuries—his entire face was dripping blood and swollen to a point resembling a misshapen red balloon. The bridge of his nose was split, and the cartilage was twisted thirty degrees.

She scanned the victim’s shirt as he and the other two passed her by, spotting fist-shaped blood stains on his chest and sides. She looked back and spotted several teeth on the floor where he was lying before the others carried him out.

“Sure,” Seza said in her false accent. “I’ll call it in.” She walked past Teller to his desk at the other end of the office. She picked the handset up and held it to her right ear. “Do I dial nine?”

Teller nodded, picking up a fresh towel and wiping his hands some more.

Seza called for the ambulance, reporting the falsehood as instructed. She hung the phone up after she got confirmation and looked up at Teller. “Do I even want to know what he did to deserve that?” she queried. “So I know what not to do.”

“He let one of my men die,” he said plainly. “Last night somebody broke into the warehouse where tonight’s Brimstone prizes were being kept and opened him up.” He discarded the fresh towel when it was soaked with the crimson fluid and slowly flexed his hands. “He was on watch there too, let it happen. So he paid in blood.”

“I see.” To her right she spotted a keycard and badge, and figured it belonged to the man Teller just beat within an inch of his life. Discreetly she took them from the desk top and placed them into her coat pockets. “Do you think this was Cross?”

“Nothing else makes sense,” he said. He went over to the coat rack to fetch his topcoat and a pair of leather driving gloves to cover his hands. “He sent his psycho there to spring the girl behind my back, but he fucked off when he realized she wasn’t there anymore. But I’ll deal with that after tonight,” he commented, putting on his coat and slipping on the gloves. “Takahashi called for his first installment tonight, I need you at the docks with me.”

“Of course,” she said, stepping out from behind the desk to join him at the door. “Will you be back in time for the auction at Brimstone?”

“Not for the auction,” he said, “but I’ll be heading there afterward to see my wife.”

 ~~~~

As before, Seza watched Teller and Takahashi converse from a distance. This time a 9mm handgun rested in her inside coat pocket for added safety, and she had her arms crossed for easy access.

From what she could see, however, she wouldn’t have to use it—Teller and Takahashi seemed to close the arranged business without any animosity. They shook hands and parted ways, and Teller gestured Seza and two other men to return to the car with him.

When they arrived at Park Avenue they found—to their horror—that the entire street was illuminated by the police and EMS vehicles that occupied the stretch of road in front of the Morrow Building, blocking their access to Brimstone.

Teller stepped out of the car slowly, staring in absentminded disbelief at the building that was the crown jewel of his empire now swarming with police. It was as if he stood watching everything he built in the Tri-State area burn to ash, powerless to stop it from crumbling.

“Boss,” one of his men gently placed his hand on his shoulder. “We have to go.”

Even from this distance, he spotted the skirt his wife Maria’s cerulean blue gown drape from underneath the sheet that covered her remains as a responder rolled the gurney carrying her from the front door of the building.

“Quickly, Boss,” he said, gently shaking Teller’s arm. “Before somebody spots you.”

Teller turned and looked at the man, then at Seza. It was hard to tell in the light, but she could swear there was the faintest glimmer of grief in his eyes.

Slowly, Chris Teller walked back into the car and slumped in his seat. “Call an emergency meeting,” he croaked. “Everyone you can get a hold of.”

“You bet,” the other man said. “What do I tell them?”

“Tell ‘em we’re at war,” he snarled. “Tell ‘em to scour the Earth for Peter Cross. Tell ‘em I’ll put everyone he ever knew, worked with, or fucked, into the ground..! Tell ‘em it’s gonna get bloody..!”

(Masterlist | Part 3)

#fiction #original work #original content #original fiction #prose #short story #creative writing #thriller #drama #crime story

[lovelyirony]

omg 10. “change in mind or change in heart?” with natmaria please? xx

Maria Hill does not like crushes. Ever. They complicate things, are never returned, and mess her up. 

This is why she does not like being around Natasha Romanoff. Black Widow. Tasha. Whatever you call her, Maria avoids her. 

This isn’t rational, she knows that. Maria can be a very rational person, but not about emotions. If she could still maintain a shred of empathy every now and again, she would cut out every single emotion entirely. 

Apparently, that is “severely unhealthy” and “please see a therapist, Ms. Hill.” 

It’s Deputy-Director Hill, firstly. Secondly, her whole job is severely unhealthy. She’s not going to stop working it. 

But back to the matter at hand. A crush. Crushes are stupid. All the time. Because when Maria gets a crush, she tends to imagine unrealistic scenarios, reads into every single action, and acts very illogically. 

Such as leaving the break room when her break has just started because Natasha enters and smiles at her. 

Or the time that Maria volunteered to do one of the hardest missions of the week because she decided that it would be better to focus her energies on not being killed and taking down a trafficking ring in Texas and dealing with gun-happy people than sitting down and telling someone that she had feelings for them. 

This did not happen out of the blue. 

Sure, she noticed Natasha when she first came. Hell, everyone did. With her Cupid’s Bow lips, green eyes that could stare right through you, and a killer figure, she bewitched everyone and she knew it. 

But that’s just noticing someone. That’s not knowing how they smile when they find something really funny. That’s not noticing how someone takes their coffee. 

And it’s not falling for someone. 

People tell you that it’s “love at first sight.” Pro-Tip: falling in love happens quickly, but it ain’t that quickly. 

Maria falls in a month. 

It is when she notices that Natasha refuses to drink coffee without creamer. It is when they share jokes and looks at some of Fury’s more petty quips, share a mission, and Natasha laughs. 

She laughs. 

And Maria falls. It’s like when she takes a dive from a tall building and there’s that split-second moment of being worried you didn’t bring your parachute or your team doesn’t have your back. 

So Maria has a little freak-out in her office and on the drive home. It’s fine. She just yells and someone to the right of her car stares, but it’s Fine. 

Things are Fine. 

(They are not Fine.) 

Because she likes Natasha. Likes her in the way that she wonders how it would feel to kiss her, to run her hands through her curls and get them tangled up. 

What if they got too tangled up? What if she accidentally got her hand stuck and then Natasha had to cut her hair and hated her for all of eternity? 

- 

The worst part of having a crush, in Maria’s experience as a human on earth, is quite often it is not returned. There is either the painful experience of them softly smiling and telling you that they are honored, but not like that. Friends, please? 

Or you drift and drift away and you don’t know them and they still smile at you but it’s not the same it can’t be the same all because you were fucking stupid and messed it up and then you’re alone, and--

Wow. Too personal. 

Anyways. They do not return it. And someone like Natasha...a girl could dream. But dreams are short-lived. And they are often just that. 

So she could think about getting coffee with Natasha before work and sneaking kisses while they commute together. She could think about taking her out to dinner and smiling across the table and arguing who will pick up the check. 

But that’s not possible. 

So Maria gets the hell on with her job and reviews over the paperwork twice. 

- 

It’s not until Coulson asks her to come into his office and she sees her. 

“Hey Mar,” Natasha says, smiling. “Fancy having a bit of a fun weekend.” 

Maria’s cheeks color. 

“Um, sure?” 

Natasha laughs. 

“You’re cute when you blush,” Natasha says. 

“Stop flirting in my office, it’s going to scar me,” Coulson says blandly. “I need you both to go undercover for a weekend. We’re supposed to be intercepting confidential medical information from one Dr. Tanner. She’s attending an exclusive LGBTQ club event. You’ll drop in Friday, fraternize Saturday, and lure her in. Got it?” 

“With all due respect Phil, why two of us?” Maria asks. “Natasha would do great, um. I don’t mean to sound creepy about that.” 

“None taken,” Nat says, grinning. 

“Two different styles,” Phil says. “Don’t make me explain. Just bring that blazer and the red pants you like. Go, plane lift-off at seven in the morning.” 

Maria nods. 

And then freaks out. In her apartment. 

Should she buy new perfume? Should she get a new face mask? Maybe she could pack seven different lipsticks, or maybe--

She’s overthinking this. By a lot. But damn, it’s with Natasha. Alone. 

- 

Natasha is excited. She’s the one who convinced Phil to let her put Maria on this mission. It’s logic. She could do it by herself. But it’s so much fun when you have a gorgeous woman at your side. 

She’s intending to tell Maria how she feels. She’s noticed the glances, the way Maria smiles at her. The most important part is that she knows that Maria isn’t just looking. 

So she’s packing, and she’s bringing her nice dress. 

- 

Maria shows up to the airport in comfy jeans, an old college sweatshirt, and has her hair pushed back into a messy ponytail. 

“Too early,” she grumbles, gripping her backpack. 

Natasha, of course, looks put together as always. She smiles at Maria. 

“Good sleep?” 

“None, unfortunately.” 

“Worried about the mission?” 

“More like the outfit.” 

“We can change it up when we get there,” Natasha says. “For now, you’re all good. I was thinking we get lunch when we get there?” 

“Sounds good.” 

The plane takes off, Maria fails to get a nap in, and instead texts Tony memes. 

you know every single time you text me i’m in shock 

why, because you know i’m funny? 

no, not that. just shook that you actually contact me. i thought you had bad guys to catch. 

i do. just on a plane for now. 

oh, with nat ;) she mentioned being excited about the mission! happy u get 2 spend quality time with her, loser 

i will tell pepper about the candle incident. 

i will literally give you an apartment for free if you don’t do that 

i want locations. 

Maria smiles to herself, looking out. 

“Gorgeous, right?” Natasha asks, smiling at her. “I think we’re gonna have some fun, Mar.” 

She likes the nickname. A lot. Probably more than she should. 

But they touch down, get their car, and Maria looks up restaurants. 

Natasha settles on Mexican. 

It’s a nice place, all things considered. They make easy conversation as they drive, and end up getting a table and looking at the menu. The salsa is good. Has a bit too much cilantro, but eh. What are you gonna do? 

“So, what do we know about Dr. Tanner?” Maria asks. 

“She likes women a lot, and she also likes performing illegal procedures on people.” 

“Dynamic.” 

Natasha laughs, sipping more of her water. 

They check into the hotel, get to their room, and find out that there’s only one bed. 

One. Fucking. Bed. 

“We can make a switch, maybe, but--” 

“It’s fine,” Natasha says smoothly, cutting the attendant off. “No trouble at all, but thank you.” 

Things are Fine. 

Just that Maria realizes that technically she will sleep with Natasha. Not in the usual way. But. Still. Sleep. 

They also have to get ready in the same bathroom and room. 

Great. 

- 

At least they both like trashy reality TV and documentaries. They share stories about work, share a mutual hatred for a coworker, and agree to have coffee when they get back. 

“There’s a great little place that I think you’ll love,” Natasha says. “It’s right by my apartment.” 

“I’d love that,” Maria says, smiling. “A lot.” 

- 

And then it’s time to get ready for the night. 

Maria decides to commandeer the bathroom, fiddling with her suit. She’s not sure if it’s too much with the heels. It might be. She still does her mascara and lipstick. 

And then she exits. 

Natasha falters in applying her lipstick. 

“Damn Maria. Damn.” 

Maria smiles. 

“You clean up well yourself, Romanoff.” 

(Natasha loves how she says her last name.) 

Maria cannot stop staring at Natasha. Because she looks stunning. 

-

This mission is boring. It could’ve been one person. Which makes Maria curious as to why there are two of them. Not that she’s necessarily complaining. It just...doesn’t make sense. 

Dr. Tanner is already infatuated with Natasha. She’s enamored, following her around like a dog on a leash. 

It’s amusing. Maria hates it. She’s on her fourth plate of appetizers. 

She has also gotten approached by a very cute woman. 

“Hey gorgeous,” she purrs. “I’m Lily. You are?” 

“Valerie,” Maria responds. “Pleasure to meet you.” 

“In that suit...the pleasure’s all mine,” Lily says. “My hotel room is 202, if you’re interested.” 

“I don’t believe so,” Natasha says, laying an arm around her waist. “Ready to go, honey?” 

Maria grins. 

“Sorry Lily, but I hope you find someone cute.” 

Natasha leads her out of the club. 

“I got the USB device. Put it in her device, huge mistake. Glad we don’t need to break into her hotel room. Anyways, room service?” 

“Sounds good,” Maria says, mouth going dry. “You can, um, stop having your arm around my waist. If you want. I don’t mind.” 

Natasha smiles. 

“And if I don’t want to?” 

“Change of mind or change of heart?” Maria asks, grinning nervously. 

“Neither. Always liked you, Hill. I thought you knew. That’s why I wanted you here on the mission.” 

Maria blinks, smiles, and grabs Natasha’s hand. 

“Cancel room service, I don’t think it’s necessary.” 

Natasha smiles. 

“Yes ma’am.” 

#lovelyirony writes #natmaria #FAVORITE SHIP #natasha romanoff #maria hill #maria is USELESS #LOVE THEM #also yes maria and tony text and tony's shook each time #blackhill #love them love them love them

[creeping-shadow-heralds-storms]

What is a political cult?

While cults are often considered religious phenomena, they can also be political. What defines a cult is often debated, but they tend to share certain traits. In 1981, the psychiatrist Robert Jay Lifton wrote an influential article on “Cult Formation.” Lifton identified three characteristics associated with cults:

1. A charismatic leader, who increasingly becomes an object of worship as the general principles that may have originally sustained the group lose power. That is a living leader, who has no meaningful accountability and becomes the single most defining element of the group and its source of power and authority.

2. A process [of indoctrination or education that involves] coercive persuasion or thought reform. For example, members of the group engaging in behavior that is not in their own best interest but promotes the interest of the group and its leader.

3. Economic, sexual, and other exploitation of group members by the leader and the ruling coterie.

Lifton also identifies several other traits of cults: milieu control (the control of all communication within a given environment), mystical manipulation (turning the member into a pawn who will spread the message and carry out actions for the group), and dispensing of existence (i.e., those who have not seen the light and embraced the truth are wedded to evil, tainted, and therefore in some sense, usually metaphorical, lack the right to exist).

Jeremy E. Sherman also notes, “Cults are not defined by what their members believe but by how they enable members to translate their beliefs into a source of permanent self-affirmation, self-protection, and self-aggrandizement, sacrificing all else to maintain their membership in something that keeps their encouragement-to-discouragement ratio forever high.”

A prime example of an American political cult is the movement led by the late Lyndon LaRouche. Other political cults, such as the Church of Jesus Christ Christian (Aryan Nations) and other groups in the Christian Identity movement, combine both political and also religious elements. While QAnon has primarily been a political cult, there is evidence that offshoots are morphing into full-fledged religious cults.

For instance, Marc-André Argentino recently highlighted a “faction within the movement has been interpreting the Bible through QAnon conspiracies” and “QAnon conspiracy theories serve as a lens to interpret the Bible itself.” Although that particular group is relatively small group of neo-charismatic home churches, it is not uncommon to see QAnon-supporting Christians on social media interpret Q’s predictions as fulfillment of eschatological prophecy.

What is dangerous about QAnon?

Last year, for the first time, the FBI identified fringe conspiracy theories—and specifically QAnon—as a domestic terrorist threat. An internal intelligence bulletin of the agency observed, “The FBI assesses these conspiracy theories very likely will emerge, spread, and evolve in the modern information marketplace, occasionally driving both groups and individual extremists to carry out criminal or violent acts.”

While most are presumably peaceful, some QAnon followers have allegedly been involved in terroristic threats against Trump and his family, an arson that destroyed 23,000 acres in California, and armed standoffs with law enforcement. [https://www.azcentral.com/story/news/politics/arizona/2018/08/07/qanon-ties-two-arizona-arrests-conspiracy-theory-trump/920336002/] The conspiracy theory has also spread to Europe with a QAnon-inspired mass murder in Germany [https://www.inquirer.com/opinion/commentary/germany-mass-killing-right-wing-trump-child-abuse-20200223.html], arson targeting cell towers[https://apnews.com/article/4ac3679b6f39e8bd2561c1c8eeafd855], and attacks on telecom workers in Belgium, Cyprus, Ireland, and the Netherlands.

How is QAnon connected to the 1980s-era Satanic ritual abuse panic?

In February, Tobias R. murdered 10 people in the city of Hanau, Germany. In his manifesto he said that a sex cult was flourishing at underground military bases in the United States. “In some of them, they worship the devil himself,” he wrote. “They abuse, torture and kill little children.”

In many ways, the QAnon phenomenon is a revival of the Satanic ritual abuse (SRA) panic that originated in the United States in the 1980s. At the core of SRA was the belief that a global network of the wealthy and powerful elite was kidnapping and breeding children for the purposes of pornography, sex trafficking, and Satanic ritual sacrifice. SRA was largely abandoned by the early 1990s because the allegations about SRA were unsubstantiated. Promoters of SRA (like QAnon advocates today) were accused of allowing an unsupported theory to distract from and downplay real cases of child sexual abuse.

The long-term effect of SRA was the destruction of families and reputations, and a discrediting of those (such as Christians) who believe in the reality of the demonic.

The anxieties about society that allowed SRA to flourish are the same that underlie the QAnon phenomenon. In his 1993 book, Satanic Panic: The Creation of a Contemporary Legend, Jeffrey S. Victor explained,

Satanic cult rumors are symptoms of anxieties deeper than fantasy worries about a secret, conspiratorial kidnappers and murderers. These rumors are collaborative messages in metaphorical form, which speak of a moral crisis. That moral crisis, as people perceive it, involves a loss of faith in the moral order of American society, a perception of the rapid decline in traditional moral values. People are saying, in essence, that “our world is falling apart, because all things good and decent are under attack by evil forces beyond our control.”

Couldn’t QAnon’s claims be true?

A common defense of conspiracy theories is that they “could possibly be true.” But most people use the term to refer to theories that have either already been debunked (e.g., flat earth theory) or that have no reasonable evidence to support their claims.

The issue with conspiracy theories is not with the possibility that they could be true, but with the lack of supporting data. As with many other conspiracy theories, QAnon takes a plausible scenario—such as sex trafficking by the wealthy elite—and distorts it until it becomes inconceivable.

To verify such claims, though, would require fact-based investigation, which can be both timely and expensive. Since most people have neither the ability nor dedication to find the truth of such claims, they resort to the much easier method of merely repeating the unverified claims of an anonymous source on discredited message board.

And as with most other conspiracy theories, QAnon dismisses contradictory evidence that would require abandoning the theory. That’s because the QAnon movement is less interested in protecting children than they are in making outrageous and slanderous claims (such as that celebrities like actor Tom Hanks were arrested for pedophilia) against those they perceive as political enemies. Instead of searching for the truth, they engage in misdirection that draws attention away from actual and substantiated cases of child sex trafficking.

#news #us news #us politics #politics #qanon #qanon tw #usa #american domestic terrorists #american cults #tw terrorism #tw child abuse #tw cult #trump supporters

[chickensarentcheap]

Sanctuary - Chapter 48

Warnings: angst

Tags: @alievans007​, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @thunderintheshadows​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @valkyrie-of-the-light​

An incessant knock at the door rouses her from her sleep, and she groans in protests as she rolls over onto her back and stares up at the cove ceiling. She's unsure of how much time has passed since Tyler left to attend to the drama with McMann, but the sun has changed positions and is now at full force as it streams through the window and onto the bed.  She presses the heels of her palms on her eyes in an attempt to both clear the sleep out of them and rid her brain of some of the lingering fogginess. Hoping that if she stays as motionless and as silent as possible, whoever is trying to contact her will just go away.  She's exhausted;  a fatigue that she's come to recognize as a late first trimester side effect. With each of her pregnancies it had set in at the same; somewhere between the middle and the end of the second month.  She does the math in her head; figuring out the exact dates that conception was the most possible. He'd just gotten back from El Salvador; a simple (for once) in and out assassination of a known human trafficker.  Sarge had picked the kids for a rare weekend at his and grandma's house, and he'd given her a wink as he'd teased her about being able to spend 'noisy adult time' with her frequently absent husband.   Which they'd managed plenty of; wild and uninhibited, intense and passionate, often rough. And it was the first time in a long  time she had actually been make the noises that she'd gotten so used to hiding behind her hand or a pillow.    

Condoms had become their go to for protection after Declan had been conceived when she was on the pill. And seeing as neither of them at the time had been one hundred sold on whether to have more children, that ruled out getting her tubes or a vasectomy for him, so something had to be used.  So she thought they'd been careful.

Apparently not careful enough.

She places both hands on her stomach; still flat for now (aside from the baby weight she hasn't managed to lose since having Declan), but if her intuition, calculations, and pregnancy history were correct, she'd be just beginning to show around the beginning of the fifth month.  It wouldn't be much; just a little bump that would be visible underneath tight fitting clothes.  But it would seem much more real than it did right now; when all she had to show for growing a life inside of her was fatigue and horrible all day sickness.  It was something she always marvelled at; the changes in her body as the weeks and months progressed, the way her hips and her breasts would fill out, the way her hair would become thicker and more vibrant, the way her skin seemed to glow. And it was always magical, no matter how many times she carried a life inside of her, to feel that little person moving around. The kicking and the squirming, the way -in the last trimester- you could sometimes see the entire outline of a hand or a foot when room was starting to run out and they had no more vacant space to move into.  And above everything, she couldn't get enough of the way her husband 'softened' over the last three months; the way that big strong man would lie in bed at night with those calloused and battered hands resting on her belly, the most gentle smile curving his lips and the utmost excitement in his eyes every time the baby kicked or seemed to respond to his voice.

And she smiles as she thinks of those times past and those moments still to come.  When they'd be in the comfort and security of their own home, back under the same roof as their children, finally able to relax and enjoy the new life that they'd be bringing into this world. Things would be different this time; he'd be around for the majority of the pregnancy, able to attend more appointments and ultrasounds, no going out of the country for extended periods of time, no worry every time the phone rang that he'd run off and put himself in danger.  

The knocking has ceased, and she once again closes her eyes, hands still on her stomach, attempting to fall back asleep once more. Sleep gave her the opportunity not to worry about him. The only time where she isn't stressed out and her mind is imagining all the worst case scenarios.  And she feels as if she's just on the brink of sleep when she hears the faint scratching of a key card being slid through the security slot, followed by the click as the system unlocks the door. She quickly jumps off the bed, feeling temporarily dizzy as she scurries through the door; she'd put the chain lock and the deadbolt in place, exactly as he'd instructed her to do if he ever left her alone.

“Wait...wait...” she implores, and hurriedly draws back the chain and snaps open the bolt. “...usually you call when you're on your back so I know to unlock everything, why...”

She stops mid sentence when she comes face to face with Nik.  The other woman's lips set in a grim line, dark eyes troubled, And immediately thinks the worst. All those times she's spent imaging that knock on the door; how Nik would be standing there with that exact same expression, preparing to give her devastating news.

“What happened?” she can't help the panic that settles into her voice. “Please tell me he's okay. Please tell me he's not...”

“Tyler's fine,” Nik assures her, yet her expression doesn't change. “I'm here to talk to you.”

“About?”

“About Tyler.”

Esme frowns. “Look, if you're here to tell me you've been fucking him and he's leaving me for you, I'll kill both of you. Just saying.”

“He would never do anything like that to you and you know. Can I come in? This is a conversation we need to have behind closed doors. This isn't something you want your neighbours hearing.”

She senses the dire importance in the other woman's voice, and then steps back and holds the door open, motioning for her to step into the room.  Closing the door, she resets the chain and the deadbolt. Just in case.

“I heard the good news,” Nik says, as she surveys the room, hands on her slender hips, expression still cold and unnerving. “About the baby.”

“You talked to Tyler?”

“A little while ago.  I ran into him. Where they're holding Michael McMann.”

“Yeah, he left a while ago.  I guess Mark and his guys were having some issues with McMann and Tyler's the one that puts the  most fear into him. Why were you there? Just checking up on things?”

“I guess you could say that.”

“Nik, what's going on? You seem...I don't know...pissed.”

“I'm just a little upset,” she admits. “About this whole situation. With McMann.”

“I know it's taking a long time. Especially to find out where the kids are. But we've been doing everything we can. We've been  running intel around the clock and Yaz has tech in every possible place he can think of. And Tyler can't do much until he actually knows where the kids are, so...”

“Did you know?” Nik interrupts.

“Know what?”

“About McMann. About where he is.”

“I know that Mark and his guys are holding him somewhere until the IRA makes up their mind. I know that they've been trying to get information out of him; about where his kids are.”

Nik's eyes narrow. “That's all you know?”

“”What more is there to know? That's all I've been told.”

“And who told you? About what was happening with McMann?”

“Tyler did. Why? Shouldn't have he? Was he supposed to keep a secret?  Look, if you're pissed at him for telling me, he's been having a hard time...mentally...since McMann told him what he would have done to me had his people caught me. He's been having real low moments and he's just not himself, Nik. He's obsessing over things and he misses the kids and he hasn't been taking his meds and....”

“Esme....” she begins, choosing her words carefully. “...what am I about to tell you? I'm not doing this to upset you. Or hurt you.  And the last thing I want to do is cause problems for you or that baby. Because you're my friend and I love you and...”

“I love you, too. I know we have our problems, but...”

“....I need to stay as calm as you can. Can you do that for me?”

“You can't expect me to be calm when you have that tone in your voice or that look in your eyes. What's going on? He is cheating on me, isn't he. That fucking bastard.”

“No. It's not that. Believe me when I say that Tyler would never, ever do that to you. And he's had the opportunities.”

“Thanks to you,” her tone is accusatory.

“And I'm sorry for that. I really am.  For ever crossing those boundaries. But this something you need to hear. Something that is far worse than the thought of him cheating on you, believe me.”

“Okay...” she crosses her arms over her chest. “....what the hell has he done?”

“You honestly do not know anything else about McMann and what's been happening to him?”

She shakes her head. “Just what I told you. I don't have a reason to know.”

“Actually, you do.  Tyler hasn't been telling you the truth. About the McMann thing. About what really happened. About where he's being kept. And what's going on while he's being kept there.”

“Nik, what the hell are you talking about? What would Tyler have to lie about? So what if the Marines are holding this guy and maybe roughing him up now and then. He's a sick and twisted fuck nut that deserves a good beat down. You  know what he said about me? What he would have done to me? How he would have made Tyler watch? That is sick shit. And he deserves to have his ass handed to him.”

“This goes way beyond someone having their 'ass handed to them'.  I want you to look at something...” Nik pulls her phone out of the front pocket of her pants, tapping on the icon for her photo gallery and then scrolling through pictures before holding the phone out to Esme. “...just keep flipping through them.”

Sighing, Esme holds the phone in the palm of her hand; a frown spreading across her face at the first image. Of a man restrained in a folding metal chair; a heavy chain around his torso keeping him in place, hands restrained behind his back, ankles bound, a hood over his head.

“That's Michael McMann,” Nik explains. “He's being held in a storage locker on the outskirts of town. In an industrial area. Do you know how he got there?”

“I know Tyler went to meet him and there was a plan arranged for Mark and his buddies to help grab him and that they were going to take him somewhere to hold him. I had no idea where.”

“He was drugged. Do you know who drugged him?

“How would I know? I wasn't even there. I just told you that I...”

“Tyler did. Tyler drugged him. And he could have killed him with how much he gave him.”

Her frown grows. “Where would Tyler get drugs from? He doesn't do drugs. He won't even take medication that's prescribed to him.”

“Billy Flynn gave them to him. That's where he met McMann. At Flynn's bar. Did you know that?”

She shakes her head.

“See this?”  Nik uses her index finger to switch pictures. “That's Michael Flynn's throat. See how bruised it is? Someone just about snapped his windpipe.  See the fingerprints on the side of his neck? That's when someone was choking him to restrain him.  And this...” she brings up the next picture. “...is the inside of McMann's mouth. Someone pulled three of his molars out. With pliers.”

“Why are you showing me these?”  Esme pushes the phone back into her friend's hands. “What does this have to with me?”

“It was Tyler. Tyler did these things.”

“What?” she can't help but laugh at the absurdness of it.  “You're kidding, right? Tyler? My Tyler? He did all that?”

Nik nods.

“You're telling that my husband drugged someone, kidnapped them, and is holding them hostage...in order to torture them...in a storage locker?”  

“That's exactly what I'm telling you.”

“Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds? This has to be some kind of joke. Did Mark put you up to this? Because this is something Mark would do. This is the kind of sick shit he'd get off on. And I wouldn't put it past him to blame it on Tyler.  There is no way my husband would do this. This is not who he is. He doesn't torture and maim people. He kills them;when he has to.  But he doesn't do this,” she gestures towards the phone. “You know him, Nik. You've known him for even longer than I have. And you know that is not Tyler.”

“Esme, I would not come here and burden you with this. Especially now. Especially when there's a baby inside of you and I know you've had problems in the past with the others. But he won't listen to anyone. We've tried to talk him out of this. Mark, Yaz, myself. We've all tried.  And he won't listen. He won't budge. Regardless of what McMann did, this...” Nik holds aloft her phone. “....this is not right. This should not be happening.”

“There's no way he would do all that,” Esme argues.  “Not Tyler. He kills because he has to. Because it's either him or them. He doesn't do shit like this. That's not who he is and you know that.”

“You just said he's been having some issues. Mental ones.”

“Yeah, with his PTSD and not taking his meds. But he doesn't go Reservoir Dogs on someone because he's off his meds. He gets moody and depressed but he's more liable to kill himself than someone else. This he would not do. I know him, Nik. I know what he's like. Whether it's when he's at the highest of his highs or the lowest of his lows. And I know he would not do this.  So I don't know who told you all of this; that he's doing this. But it's not him.”

“He told me, Esme. Tyler told me. After I heard it from Mark. It's why I came here.  To confront Tyler. To try and talk some sense into him. He's not in his right mind. If he was, there's no way he would do this.  You're my last resort. I wouldn't have to come to you and put this on you if I had another way of handling this.”

She doesn't know how she feels.  Shocked? Numb? Disgusted even? None of it makes sense. None of it seems real. Even with the proof right there in those photographs.  And she feels nauseous; the distinct burn of bile as it rises in her throat.  “He would not do this,” she says, even though her gut knows it's true. That Nik would not do this to her; purposely make up something so outrageous just to hurt her.  “Tyler would not do this.”

“He would. And he is. Are you okay? Do you need to sit down?”

“I don't know....” she admits, and lays a hand on her stomach.  “....I don't know what I need to do.”

“Sit down,” Nik takes her by the arm and guides her towards the bed, still holding onto her as she lowers herself down onto the edge. “I'll get you some water. Just try and stay calm, okay?”

Esme nods, then grabs the phone out of Nik's hand before she can depart. Tears clouding her vision as she returns to the photo gallery and sends each of those disturbing, nauseating photos to her own cell phone.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” Nik asks, as she returns with a glass of water from the bathroom. “Maybe some fresh air will do you some good. I know it's hard being cooped up like this and you've been under a lot of stress. It will be good for you to get out. Get some exercise. Some sunshine,” she attempts a reassuring smile, and rubs her friend's arm comfortingly. “I know how hard this is. To hear this. To see those pictures.”

“I can't believe he would do this,” Esme's hands shake as she lifts the water to her lips, and Nik puts a supportive hand under the bottom of the glass.  “This is not Tyler. He doesn't do things like this, Nik.”

“Not normally, no. But he has been under a lot of stress. A lot of tension. Worry. And now you're having a baby and he has that on his plate too....”

“Don't bring the baby into this. If anything, that's something he should be happy about.”

“He's been off his meds?”

She nods. “I don't know how long for. I've been so caught up with worrying about the kids and worrying about him not getting killed that I haven't been paying attention.”

“It's not your fault,” Nik rubs her back now. “You're his wife, not his babysitter.”

“I always know if he's going through a crisis. Always. And I'm always there for him. To help him through it. And maybe if I noticed sooner...”

“Esme, don't do this to yourself. None of this is your fault.  You can help him, but you can't fix him. He has to want to fix himself.”

“I told him not to take this job. I begged him not to take it. He'd just gotten back from Guatemala and he promised me...he promised the kids...that he would stay home. That he wouldn't take anything else for at least two weeks. And then McMann showed up in Telluride and everything went to shit.”

“That was McMann's plan. When he couldn't kill Tyler in Guatemala, he changed his entire plan. He concocted this elaborate story about his wife and his kids because he knew that Tyler would cave in at the mention of kids. He wanted to bring him here to start shit with the IRA. So the IRA would kill him and McMann's hands would be clean. No connection to Tyler's death. But when he brought you in and you started digging around....”

“So it's my fault?” the tears fall in earnest now. “He's doing this because of me? Because I got involved in this?”

“No. Esme, that's not what I'm saying. I'm saying that McMann had to make things even more complicated and twisted to get his hands on Tyler. Including targeting you and the kids. And that's why Tyler is doing this. Or at least that's his rationale. He feels he needs revenge.”

“For what? I'm fine. The kids are fine. What...?”

“The threat was even worse in his mind because he's not in a good place. You know what he gets like that, when he's off his meds.”

She nods. “He obsesses over things. He thinks things are a hundred times worse than what they are.”

“It's Tyler doing these things, but it's not Tyler at the same time. He's not the Tyler you know.  He may think he is, but he isn't.”

“What am I supposed to do? If he's that unhinged, I won't be able to get through to him.  No one will be able to get through to him.”

“Tough love?” she suggests.  “What is he most afraid of? Not just now. But always.”

“I can't do that him, Nik. I can't hurt him like that. If things are that bad now, what will he get like if I do that to him? I just can't. What he's doing is wrong, I'm not denying that. But I can't break his heart.”

“Esme, this is what he needs. To snap him out of it. If he has something he's afraid to lose, that will be what forces him to save himself. You know I'm right. Remember when you kicked him out? Six months it took. But he smartened up, didn't he? Because he was afraid you'd never take him back and he'd never see his kids.”

“I can't,” she insists. “I can't hurt him like that. Of all the things that would break him...”

“It will force him to get his shit together. It will make him realize that he's out of control and he's need to get his head on straight. I know you don't want to do it. You don't want to use yourself and your kids...his kids...as weapons, but you need to. If you want to save Tyler, you have to do it.  Or he'll become someone you don't even recognize. And you won't have a choice to walk  away for good. I know you don't want that.”

“No, I don't...” she uses the back of her hand to brush tears off her cheeks.  “...I don't want to walk away. I love him. And I know he loves me. I know he loves his kids. And I'm having a baby and I can't do it alone. I can't do it without him.”

“You'll have to if this goes on. Because you're going to loose him. To whatever the hell is going on inside his head. If you want to help save him, you have to do this. He needs you to do this.”

“Fine,” she reluctantly agrees. “But it isn't going to well. It's going to go to shit. And then what? When he loses his mind? I'm not afraid of him. I know he won't hurt me. That's one thing I do know for sure. But he's going to flip out, Nik. And this place will be a battle zone.”

“If that happens,  you call me and I'll come and get you. You can come stay with me in my room until he calms down., okay?”

Esme nods.

“It's going to be alright,” Nik assures her, as she wraps an around her friend's shoulder, pulling her tight into her side, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Everything is going to be alright.”

****

She's sitting at the end of the bed when he returns, nervously bouncing her legs up and down and chewing on her bottom lip; cell phone clutched tightly in her hand.

“What's going on?” Tyler asks, as she slips his feet out of flip flops, leaving them by the door. “I thought you were going out with Tanis?”

“I changed my mind,”  her voice is strained, the emotion evident. And she doesn't look at him, even when he walks further into the room and lays his hand on her back and drops a kiss on the top of her head. “Where were you?” she asks.

“I told you. I went to help out with McMann.”

“What kind of help?”

“What does it matter?”

“I'm just curious, I guess.  I mean, if three Marines can't handle him, what are you supposed to do about it?”

“Just an extra pair of hands there, I suppose. What's going on? You okay? You seem a little...”

“Upset?” she finishes for him.

He nods.

“I need you to be honest with me, Tyler. I don't want you lying to me. Where were you?”

“I just told you...”

“I know where you were and who you were with. But where were you? As in location? Why is it big secret? Why am I not allowed to know these things? How come every time I ask you, you either totally ignore me or you just change the subject?”

“You don't need to know. Your part in all of this is done now. There's nothing left for you to do. Why would I get you involved in anything else? You need to be taking it easy. For the baby.”

“Don't do that,” she shakes her head, and finally turns her face towards him, her eyes darker than he's ever seen them. “Don't you use this baby as an excuse to keep things from me.”

“What are you talking about? What...?”  he attempts to lay a hand on her shoulder, and she aggressively pushes it away and stands up, facing him.

“I am going to ask you one more time,” she says, voice trembling. “Where were you?”

“I fucking told you. I was helping with McMann. Where the hell does it matter where the actual place is?”

She inhales deeply, pulls her lip between her teeth, and then exhales sharply.  “What the hell is this?”  she brings up the photos on her phone, tapping on the one of McMann restrained to the chair, hood still over his face. “Can you explain this? Tell me what this is, Tyler.”

He sighs heavily, fists tightening by his sides. “Where did you get that?”

“Nik. She sent me a whole bunch. See...” she scrolls through the pictures, and when he attempts to reach for the phone, she yanks it away, holding it behind her back. “...tell me you didn't do this. Tell me you didn't drug someone and kidnap them and tie them up in a storage locker. Tell me you didn't do those things.”

He stares at her; long and hard, blue eyes never leaving dark brown.

“Tell me,” she orders. “Tell me it wasn't you. Tell me that she's wrong. That it was someone else and they're just wanting you to take the blame. Tell me.”

Tyler shakes his head. “I can't.”

“So this was all you? All those pictures? All those things done to him? All those bruises and all the blood and the missing teeth? That was all you? You did all of that?”

He nods.

“Why? Why would you do this? What the hell,Tyler? This is not you! You don't do shit like this! You don't hurt people. You help them!”

“I've hurt plenty of people. I've killed even more. You know that.”

“You kill because you have to! Because you don't have a choice. Because it's you or them . But this! What you're doing now? You have a choice! You're choosing to do this! You're choosing to hurt someone!”

“He fucking deserves it,” his voice is low and steady, giving no evidence to the rage that's building inside of him.

“Why? Who the hell are you to say someone deserves this? Jesus Christ, Tyler! You ripped someone's teeth out of their mouth with goddamn pliers! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Nothing. Nothing is wrong with me. He deserves this. I'm doing this for you.”

“For me?” she laughs incredulously. “For me? Why do you think I would want this? I don't want this! Put a bullet in his head and call it a fucking day! Don't do this! This is sick! This is fucked up and you know it!”

“You know what he was going to do to you? To the kids? Our kids?”

“Don't you dare use them in this. Don't you dare use them to justify this. You think this is what they would want? Their daddy doing these kinds of things to people? You worry about what Millie will say when she grows up. How she'll react when she finds out about your past as mercenary. You worry about that then you go and do this? This is somehow better?”

“She'd understand. That I did it for her.”

“You aren't going to rationalize this. No matter what you say to me. This ends now, Tyler. You hand him over to whoever is going to take him and that's it. This ends. You stop this right now.”

He shakes his head. “Why are you doing this?”

“Why am I doing this? What am I doing? Holding you accountable for your bullshit? Like I've been doing for five and a half fucking years! When I have I never not called you out on something? Did you really think I wouldn't call you out on this?”

“You weren't supposed to find out.”

“Oh and lying about it makes it so much better. You know, when Nik showed up here and said we needed to talk, I was almost hoping she was going to tell me you were fucking her. Because that would have been so much easier to deal with than this. And how sad is that? That I'd rather you fuck another woman than do something like this?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to tell me that this stops right now. That you don't go near him ever again. That you let Mark and his guys handle this from now on. This ends here.  Tell me this ends here.”

He shakes his head.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now? Look at these pictures!” she throws the phone at them. “Look at them, Tyler! Look at them and tell me that this is okay! Fucking look at them!”

“Don't...” he takes a step towards her, a fist clutched at his side. “....don't fucking talk to me like that.”

“What are you going to? Are you going to the same thing to me? Are you going to lose your shit on me too?”

“I'd never do that. I would never, ever hurt you.”

“Really? Are you sure? Because I thought you'd never turn into this. I never thought you'd turn into someone who would do this kind of thing. After all the years you've spent getting people away from sick fucks that do these things, you turn around and you become one of them.”

“I'm nothing like them,” he hisses through gritted teeth.

“Why are you doing this? Why? Give me one good reason. Look me in the eye and give me one good reason.”

“I told you!” he finally snaps. “He was going to hurt you. He was going to hurt our kids. What the fuck am I supposed to do? Let it happen? Be okay with it?!”

“He can't hurt us because you've got him locked up in that fucking storage place! He can't hurt anyone! So just leave him there to rot if you have to. But don't do this. You don't need to do this!”

“I do. For you. And the kids.”

“No!” she snarls, and jabs him in the chest with her forefinger.  “You don't use us like that! Don't you dare use us to justify this! We don't want you doing this! I want you to stop, Tyler. I want you to just walk away from McMann. From the job. I want you to tell Nik to find someone else to get those kids. Because you are in no way healthy enough to do this job.”

He smirks. “Who the fuck do you think you are? Talking to me like this? Who...?”

“I'm your wife, you fucking asshole!  I'm your wife and I'm worried about you! Because you're becoming someone I don't even recognize! You're slowly becoming a completely different person and I can't watch it happen. I can't just stand back and let you do this to yourself.”

“The person you remember is gone, Esme. You're remembering someone that existed for five days. In Dhaka. That's who you remember.”

“No,” she shakes her head, remaining defiant.  “I remember the person after that. The person who chose to keep going when he could have given up. That's who I remember.”

“The guy you fell in love with? He died that day on the bridge. You know he did. That's who you remember. That guy you were fucking for five days. That's who you remember.”

“No, Tyler. That's not who I remember. I remember the guy who saved a fourteen year old boy even though the job went to shit and there wasn't going to be a payout.  I remember the guy who busted his ass to get Ovi and I across the bridge. That's who I remember!”

“Do you remember the guy that got shot in the throat? That fucking bled out all over you? Do you remember him? Look at it!” he points to the scar on his neck. “Fucking look at it, Esme. You can't, can you. You can't even look at it because it because too real to you. Do you remember that guy?”

“Of course I do.”

“Because that guy died that day. And he took those other guys with him. What you got in the end? That's not the same guy.”

“You're better than that guy.  You became a better man. Do you remember saying that to me? That I made you want to become a better man? Do you remember that?”

He nods.

“You are a better man. And that's the man I want. I don't want the man that does shit like this to people. And you don't want to be that man. I know you don't want to.”

“I'm sorry,” he snarls. “That I can't be that person for you.”

“You are that person, you dick! And I want you to stay that person, Tyler. I need you stay that person. Your kids need you to stay that person.”

“You should have let me die. On that bridge. You should have just let me die.”

She fights back the tears despite the devastation his words inflict upon her heart. Her entire body. “How can you even say that? Is that really what you wanted? You wanted me to let you die?”

“It would have been better if you'd just let me go.”

“Better for who? You? You were the one that wanted to keep seeing me after Dhaka. You brought it up first. We made plans. Together. To travel and enjoy getting to know each other and see where things took us. A guy who wants to die does not do that. And you can't convince me otherwise.”

“It would have been so much easier,” he speaks with a quiet resolve, despite the rage that causes his entire body to tremble.

“For you? That's bullshit, Tyler and you know it.”

“You wouldn't have wasted the last five and a half years of you life.”

“I didn't waste anything. I married the love of my life. I had his children. There was nothing wasted. I've spent these last five and a half years loving you with everything I am and everything I have. And I spent them being loved by you. I wasted nothing.”

“None of this would be happening. This bullshit with McMann. People going after my kids. Threatening them. If I hadn't survived...”

“But you did,” she hisses. “You did survive. You didn't die because you're a stubborn fucking asshole who refuses to give up. The same stubborn asshole who coded three times in the OR and still came back. You have me. You have your children. Aren't we enough? Aren't we enough to make you want to live?”

“Of course you are. But....”

“There's no 'buts', Tyler. I know how stressed you are right now. I know you're going through a fucking nightmare mentally. And I know that it frustrates you and it confuses you and I know it scares you. But you're not in this alone. I am right here with you. And I'll fight your fight with you.”

“You shouldn't have to!” he argues. “Don't you fucking get that? You shouldn't have to keep doing this!”

“I don't have to do anything. I want to. Why won't you let me help you? Why won't you swallow your goddamn pride and let me in? Just let me help you. Please.”

“What do you want me to do? Tell me. Tell me what you want me to do.”

“I want you to stop this. This McMann bullshit. Because that's not you. Regardless of what you say, regardless of your stupid ass reasonings. That's not the man I fell in love with. That I married. That I gave children to. It's your brain, Tyler. It's messing with you. So you need to stop right now. And you need to tell Nik that you're done. Someone else can find those kids. You tell her and we leave. We get the first flight out of here and we go and get our kids and Ovi and we go home.”

He shakes his head, voice choked by emotion. “I can't.  I'm sorry.  I can't.”

“You still want to finish the job,” it's a statement, not a question. “You still think you need to stay and get it done.”

He nods.

“Well I guess you've made your choice then. It was always going to be this way, wasn't it, Tyler. You were always going to chose the job over me, weren't you.”

“That is not what I'm doing. I promised you, at the end of it, I was done.”

“I am sick to death of your promises. Of you breaking them all the time. I'm tired.  I'm tired and I've got another human being inside of me that I'm trying to keep alive. I'm tired and I'm done. You made your choice,” she steps past him, aggressively shoving her shoulder into him.

“What are you doing?” he watches as she grabs one of her suitcases out of the unlocked second closet in the hall. “Esme...what the fuck? Stop your fucking games, okay? Just stop this shit and just sit down and we will talk about this and...”

“We are way past sitting down and talking about anything,” she tosses the suitcase onto the bed, angrily yanking on the zipper to open it, then stomps to the dresses and begins tearing open drawers; gathering up various items of clothing and messily tossing them into the case.

“Just stop!” he orders. “What are you doing?!”

“I'm leaving. I'm going back to Colorado. I'll stay with my mom until Ovi brings the kids back.”

“You don't need to do that. Stop...” he stands behind and reaches around her slight frame to grab both of her wrists in one of his hands. “You don't need to leave. I don't want you to leave.”

“If I stay, I'm only going to be in your way. Just like I was in Dhaka.”

“That's not true. You were never in my way in Dhaka.”

“It wouldn't have been so hard if I'd died in that forest too. If Saju had have just done me in when he had the chance. Things would have been a lot easier on you and a lot easier on Ovi.”

“That's bullshit and you know it.”

“Why am I even here still? My usefulness ran it's coarse, right? You don't need me anymore.”

“Of course I need you. You're my wife.”

“You chose, Tyler,” she manages to yank her hands out of his grip. “You made your choice. Now you can live with it.”

“Don't do this. Please. I never chose the job over you.”

“You just did!” she bellows, and pushes him away with her elbow, tears flowing freely down her face. “You just did!”

“I promised you I'd be done after I was finished her. That was what our deal.”

“Well fuck the deal!” she shoves him away once more when he attempts to get closer. “And fuck you too, Tyler!”

“Esme...stop...don't do this. Don't leave.  I don't want you to leave.”

“You need to get your shit together,” she orders. “You need to figure out what the hell you want.”

“You,” there's no hesitation.  “I want you. I want my kids.”

“Then come with me. Tell Nik that you're done. Tell her you're finished and come home with me.”

“You know I can't. You know I can't leave those kids.”

“But you can you leave yours right? That's a never a problem to you.  It's never a problem when you walk out the door while they're sleeping and leave me to clean up your mess. You can leave your own kids...that you helped make...but not complete strangers. Makes total sense.”

“Just give me to the end of the week. Like we agreed on. That's all I'm asking for here. Just five more days.”

“And then five days become ten and ten become twenty and on and on and on.”

“Not this time,” Tyler insists. “This time I'm done. I meant what I said.”

“I'm not staying here. I refuse to stay here. I'm not hanging around to get that phone call or that knock on the door letting me know you're dead. I'm going home. To Colorado. To my mom's. And you get a hold of Ovi and you get him and my kids back. Do you understand me?”

“Esme...” he lays his hands on her shoulders. “...just stop.”

“You track down Ovi and my kids and you get their asses back to Colorado. Or I will never, ever forgive you. I will spend the rest of my life hating you if you don't  get my kids back where they belong. And stop!” she uses her elbows to knock her hands off her shoulders. “Stop touching me! I don't want you touching me right now. Just get my kids back, Tyler.”

“They're my kids too,” he angrily reminds her.

“Yeah, well try being a father once in a while. Not just when it's convenient for you and fits your schedule.”

“That's fucking low and you know it, Esme. That's really fucking low. I do what I do for those kids. For you!”

“You do what you do because you like it. You just won't admit. Because it makes you sick to admit it so you use me and the kids as an excuse. Because it makes you feel better. Quit your shit, Tyler. Just admit. For once, just admit you do this job because you enjoy it.”

“I don't enjoy it. I do it because I'm good at it. No. I'm fucking great at it. And the money...”

“Fuck the money. There is not enough money in this world to replace you! I don't care about the money. I would leave  with you right now and go back to Australia and live in that goddamn shack with you and four kids and fucking chicken in the bathroom if that's what you wanted. If that is what would make you happy. If that's what would you keep you home and safe!”

“Esme....please...just stay here with me...we can sit down and talk about this. Like rational adults.”

“Tyler, I am way past feeling rational. I'm not staying here with you.  I love you. I love you so much it hurts sometimes.  But I can't be around you right now. I just can't. You need time to think. Without me around.”

“No,” he remains steadfast. “I don't.

She finishes throwing the clothes into the suitcase and zips it closed. “I'll be there. When this is done. I'll be waiting for you to come home. But if in your heart you do want the job over us, don't even bother coming back. Move. Get out of my way.”

“Stop. Right now. Stop whatever fucking game this is and...”

“This isn't a game!” she screams. “I said move!”

He holds his hands up in surrender and steps backwards. “You're leaving now?” he asks incredulously, as she grabs the suitcase and heads for the door.  “Right now? Where the hell are you going?”

“I'll stay with Nik.  Then I'll get a flight back first thing tomorrow.”

He crosses the room in three long strides, slamming a palm against the door to prevent her from opening it. “Stay here. With me. Then tomorrow you book a flight and I will take you to the airport. Just stay here. With me.”

“Why? Because you think fucking me a few times will make everything better? It doesn't solve everything, Tyler. Regardless of what you think.”

“I never said that. I never even thought it. I just want you to stay. I just want to sleep here. With me. In the same bed. So I can wake up beside you. That's all I want.”

“I can't.  You need to respect that. That I need to be away from you right now. This all too much. Finding out what you've been doing. I need time to come to terms with that and I need to take care of myself and this baby and I can't do either of those things if I'm with you. You have to let me go, Tyler.”

“No. I don't, And I won't.”

“If I stay, this won't end well. Because all the worry and the stress is going to get to me and I'm going to lose this baby and you won't ever forgive yourself for that. So please. Just let me go. If you love me, if you love this baby, just let me go.”

“Fine...” he relents, removing his hand from the door and stepping back far enough to allow her to open it.

“I'm sorry,” she says,  and he reaches out to clear the tears off her cheeks with his thumbs. “This is not about not loving you. Because I do. I love you so fucking much. And it's because I love you that I'm doing this.”

He nods. “I know.”

“Do you? Because I need you to understand that. I need you to know that I love you and I'm not leaving you. I don't want this...us...to be over. I just need to take care of myself and this baby. I can't do that if I'm here. And you know I can't. You know right, that?”

“Yup.”

“I want you to find those kids. I do. And then I want you to come home. To me. To our kids. Your kids. Promise me, Tyler. If there's ever going to be one promise you make and keep, make it that one.”

“I promise. I'll come home. To you. To the kids.”

“Be careful, okay? And stay safe. Come home in one piece. And breathing.”

“I will,” he assures her.

She manages a small smiles, then reaches up to push his hair off of his forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he leans down to kiss her.  Long and languid. Tender.

“I'll see you when I see you,” she says.

He grins. “That's my line.”

“Well, I beat you to it this time.”

He lays a hand on the back of her neck and pulls her into him, pressing his lips to her brow.  “Stay,” he says. “Just tonight. Tomorrow I'll let you leave. I'll take you to the airport.”

“If I don't leave now, I never will. And that's not good for either of us. But I'll be waiting for you. I promise,” she places her hand on the side of his face, running her thumb over his lips and then the bristles of his beard. “I'll miss you.”

“I'll miss you too. At least call me. Before you leave tomorrow.”

“I will,” she promises, and briefly leans her forehead against his chest before stepping out into the hall and shutting the door behind her.

#tyler rake #tyler rake fan fic #tyler rake fan fiction #chris hemsworth character #sanctuary #extraction