#twrapemention

[upfromtheashessurvivorsblog]

According to underthedesknews (on TikTok), the Arizona Supreme Court just ruled that the Mormon church has the "privelege" of not reporting child sexual abuse if it comes up during a confession.

Absolutely disgusting.

[cryptidvoidz]

Keep Them Safe: Chapter Seven

Based on @whatwashernameagain‘s fic: Keep Him Safe

Warnings: Angst, blood, beatings, knives, choking, cursing, hint at non-consenting sexual acts.

Chapter One

Tag List: @himrachel @whatwashernameagain

A/N: OMG ANOTHER CHAPTER?! Well, guess what, the newest chapter of KHS has me shook, and I was struck with MAJOR inspiration to write this.

Chapter Seven (AO3 link)

Redmond balances on the edge of the curb, arms outstretched as he tiptoed along. He told Dexter and Oliver he could pick up the little minion from his first day of school today, but that was a couple of hours away, and the man felt too antsy to really stay still or inside. Oliver avoided the topic of the day before, seeming incredibly nervous and shy. The long haired male couldn't blame him. The whole situation was unexpected, and from what he was able to gather (because he couldn't remember much), he had asked to go home with the detective. When he had woken up this morning, he felt better than he had in ages, so perhaps him being so touch-starved wasn't really a shocker.

The things he could remember, though, brought a smile to his lips. Waking up, the first thing he had seen was the small detective cuddled up against his chest. The sight was absolutely breathtaking, from the way the man's fingers had latched onto his shirt, to the way the sun turned his hair into fire, the flames lazily flickering in every direction. Redmond could see the stars in his freckles that dusted across his cheeks and nose, and quietly mapped out full constellations. Gently carding his fingers through the cherry red hair allowed him to see the platinum blonde and dark brown roots starting to show. Even after all these years, Oliver still kept his hair dyed a pristine crimson, taking great care of it to make sure that it stayed soft and manageable. To anyone who didn't know the man, they'd probably think this was his natural hair color.

Oliver also had a nice, slim build, hiding muscles under the lean exterior, reminding the man of a cat, powerful with a sleek frame, able to silently stalk its prey. He had run his fingers lightly down Oliver's arms, breath catching as he felt the familiar raises in skin. The detective's arms were decorated with an array of crisscrossing scars, all different lengths and sizes. Tears stung the backs of his eyes because in the sixteen years that he had known the redhead, there had only ever been a couple here and there, and they had always faded within a few months. Those? Those weren't fading any time soon.

Running his hands through his loose hair, Redmond checked his phone, sighing dejectedly as he saw the time. Still an hour and fourty-three minutes to go. He let his feet carry him to the cafe. Going inside wasn't his plan, however, as he stepped into the alley and grasped at the ladder. Laying on the rooftops helped him think his entire life, and right now, he needed to think.

For example, what was he going to do about Oliver? He certainly didn't hold a grudge now. Once he had realized that his mom had been the reason Oliver had said those harsh words, all of his anger and hurt melted away. And to see how that bitch still had a hold of him to this day made him protective. He remembered the pain in those mismatched eyes. He knew that pain. That was the pain of loving someone who, quite obviously, didn't love you back. Redmond had felt it with his ex. But Oliver? He'd been dealing with that pain for twenty-eight years, unable to cut ties with the mom he tried so hard to impress, only to be met with disappointment and rejection for who he was. The texts Redmond had seen the day before had shown him more than enough.

A buzzing from his pocket let him know it was time to go pick up Danny. It was only a short walk to the school, thankfully, because Redmond's car was still at Dexter's, all the way across town. As he walked, he found his mind drawn back to Oliver. More specifically, how gorgeous he was, and how the barista could get him to keep smiling, because dammit, if Oliver's smile wasn't the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, then he didn't know what was. The tall man's heart melted, just a little, as he realized just what the detective was to him. Even after all of these years, he still loved the redhead, and never realized it.

Spotting the familiar black winderbreaker with yellow stripes, he waves and broke out into a smile. "I'm over here, little minion!" Redmond called, bracing himself as kid turned into a blur that shot straight towards him. Laughing, he sidestepped and scooped up Danny, who was giggling hysterically.

"Red! I didn't know you were picking me up!" The man in question raised his eyebrows, taking in the paint covered seven year old, chuckling.

"Well, surprise, minion, you're stuck with me all day until your Aunt Rose picks you up for that sleepover. And you want to know what I was thinking? That maaaaybe, you and I, Danny, could be lazy and watch Disney. Even order some of that Chinese food that you love, hm?" Seeing the kid squirm with excitement and start to ramble on about his day, he decided he made up his mind on where him and Oliver stood.

The first thing Oliver noticed when he walked in was Roman's eyes. They were tinged red, an obvious sign of tears. And then he tripped. Within earshot of the desk, thankfully. Jake helped the smaller detective up, smiling gratefully and glancing back at Roman and Logan. It took everything Oliver had to not flinch away from the stoic detective. Normally, Detective Sanders never radiated this much anger. It was unnerving. He caught the name "Virgil Raine" as he walked away.

Hastily, he brought up records for the name, and sure enough, there was one currently detained in one of the holding cells. And from the looks of it, this was the wildcat he had heard Roman talking about to Logan. The pieces fit together. Roman's state of mind, Logan's anger. Oliver's deduction? Both were too emotional to deal with this properly. Snatching up the whiteboard and red marker he usually carried around, the tiny detective stalked out of the office, headed straight to the holding cells, lips pursed.

Logan cared a lot for his partner, and was overprotective. Roman was blinded by an infatuation with this gang member. Rather simple. The purple sneakers came to a halt outside a cell, and the blue and silver eyes came into contact with the same eyes from Patton's bakery. An emotionless face met the sneering one, and soon the gang member faltered. Oliver cocked his head, his intense stare causing the criminal to shrink back. He wrote on his whiteboard, showing it to the man in the cell. "Why are you here?"

Apparently, this man wasn't as much of a hardened criminal as he thought because swiped at Oliver through the bars, and immediately went to the back of the cell as the detective easily dodged and continued to stare him down. The red haired man caught the word "traitor" and smiled, waving cheerfully and walking away, knowing full well the look of confusion on the criminal's face.

Oliver could just barely make out sobbing from one of the cells, and peered in. Aha, there you are, little wildcat, Oliver thought, quickly stepping inside as he assessed the condition of this cell's inhabitant. The first thing he noticed was the large, handshaped bruise on the young man's neck. Next, the split lip and bruise that stretched across his cheek. Virgil shrank further against the wall, and the detective could see the terror in his eyes.

So Detective Frey did something that the other didn't expect; he sat right on the floor across from Virgil, legs crossed as the marker flew across the board. "What happened?" it said.

The gang member just eyed him fearfully before curling back up. Oliver's eyes traveled to the wall next to Virgil's head. Specks of blood on the wall. His eyes narrowed, remembering Roman's bandaged hand. Well, this week was just the week for punching walls. He connected the dots quickly. His best guess was that Virgil had planned on selling out the gang, based on the other member's mention of traitors, and said gang member told both Logan and Roman all about how Virgil was using the younger detective. It was all quite obvious. Divide and conquer tactic. A misunderstanding. But Oliver knew that without proof, neither of the other detectives would listen to reason, which, hilariously, was illogical, as Logan would often say. Scribbling on his whiteboard again, he held it out for the other to read, smiling gently.

Virgil stared at the whiteboard in shock and opened his mouth to speak, yet nothing could come out. But the detective saw a glimmer of hope in his eyes and smiled wider, standing up. He fished around in his pocket, bringing forth a cinnamon candy he always kept with him for stress. Unwrapping it, he held it out to the wildcat and, once the other finally took it and popped it into his mouth, smirked warmly, holding a fingering to his lips. Our little secret, it conveyed.

Oliver shivered. It had started to rain a bit ago, and his hiding place wasn't exactly sheltered from the cold, wet drops. Luckily for him, he had managed to sneak into the Scorpions' hideout. Unfortunately, he was now surrounded with no way to escape. They had no idea he was here, but there was no way he'd leave without getting caught. At least, that's how it was.

His phone started to buzz, alerting the convicts. "Who's phone was that?"

"What do you mean? That's not my phone."

"Jimmy I swear to god..."

"It's not me!"

Suddenly, the voices got closer. Fuck.

"Hey, looky here! We got ourselves an intruder! Boss, come look!" Oliver found himself face to face with a drug addicted gang member leering at him. Oliver made and unimpressed face and stood straight, brushing himself off. He had to pretend that this didn't bother him, the fact he was surrounded by more people than he could take on. He thanked the heavens he had time to send the audio file to Logan and hide his phone. He had managed to record enough proof that Virgil was in fact innocent, as well as gather info about the gang itself. The detective wasn't all that sure that the file had gone through, but that wasn't his main concern right now. His main concern was the towering man who was making his way through the criminals. His arms were covered in tattoos of naked women and scorpions, and there was a trashy teardrop tattoo underneath his left eye. Oliver could tell by the way the man carried himself that he was the leader.

The detective fought the urge to take an involuntary step back, opting for a warning snarl. "What are you, a little kitten? Do you really think you're intimidating?" The man stood a good foot and a half above the detective as he mocked him, the laugh carrying a threat. He made a motion and in a blink of an eye, Oliver deflected the blows of two gang members and grounded them. The two groaned on either side of him, and the leader's look darkened.

"Kick his ass, Hector!" a voice yelled from the back, causing a deadly glint to appear in the man's eyes. Uh-oh, this isn't good...

The leader, who was apparently called Hector, grabbed the detective's tie, yanking him close to inspect his face. Rather than reward him with the terror he expected, Oliver spit in his face, a lopsided grin springing to life on his face. His show of defiance only resulted in the man's large hand closing in around his throat.

Oliver was hoisted up off the ground and shoved against the wall behind him. Black dots swarmed his vision and he clawed at the hand that held him captive, attempting to breath. His feet started to kick wildly, fear setting in. One of his feet landed on his captive’s chest, causing the latter to loosen his grip just enough for Oliver to inhale some of that sweet, sweet air.

He gasped as a force spread across his face, dazing him. The pain that set in a few moments later made him realize that Hector had decked him. Taking a command from some unseen signal, the gang set on him like a pack of wolves. The small male let out a small whimper, his mouth running dry as the members pummeled him. Through the pain, he managed to assess the injuries with a (somewhat) clear head. At least two broken ribs and a shit ton of bruises. He felt his hair grabbed and the ground rushed at him. He tried to focus. One concussion.

Vaguely grasping at some form of comprehension, Oliver was dragged upright. His shirt had been ripped slightly during the scuffle, and the members holding him snickered with glee at see what their leader had in store for the intruder.

A flash caught Oliver’s eye. A knife. He settled a defiant gaze on the holder of the weapon, the leader looking back at him with a malicious glint in his eyes. Oliver wouldn’t show him any sort of weakness. He felt the blade along the side of his neck, and in one swift movement, the choker he had been wearing fell to the ground. Blood trickled down, but the detective refused to give in, breathing in and out calmly. “Mm, you’re a tough cookie to crack, aren’t you?” The leader chuckled, pacing in front of the other, like a cat toying with its food.

Oliver just continued to maintain an even, cold gaze, unable to speak, but not really caring. The threatening man in front of him cut open the front of his shirt even more, dragging the knife across his bare chest lightly. “Perfect,” he muttered lovingly.

Pain erupted as the gang leader suddenly started to carve into Oliver’s chest, causing a few whimpers. “What a pretty boy you are. Who knows? Maybe I’ll be able to have some fun after all..."

Finally, the fear Oliver had been keeping at bay crept into his eyes as they widened, the implications obviously as Hector grabbed his face and planted a hard kiss to the detective's lips. He struggled in vain, but as the imposing character grew closer for comfort, he understood that he wasn't getting out of it. He tried to swallow past the lump in his throat, squeezing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth.

Roman glanced down at his phone, not really caring. That day's events had left him warn out and heartbroken, the shattered feeling in his chest aching dully at this point. A quick swipe showed him that it was Oliver. Opening the text, the princely detective frowned, eyebrows knitting together. An address?

Another text.

Detective Prince inhaled sharply. "Logan, get your ass up, we need to leave right now!

"What? Why?" Logan walked from the bathroom, shoulders tense at the tone of his partner's voice.

Roman simply showed him the phone, Logan's face paling before he stiffened, swiftly throwing on his jacket.

Neither of them, in the years they had worked with the mute detective, had they ever received a text like that from Oliver. It meant he was in severe trouble.

The young detective stared down at the text, his mind going a million miles an hour. He felt a hand on his, tugging him along. Roman continued to go through all the worse possible scenarios, hoping to god that none of them was true. Logan sped the whole way there, his knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel.

Oliver: plshlpme

Lights blinded him, making him even dizzier as he dragged himself a couple more inches. He felt arms grab him gently, mentioning something about the hospital. What hospital? Why did he need to go to the hospital? His head rolled back, illiciting a small whimper from the contact with the gash in his head. Why did he hurt so much? He felt arms around him, and he latched on, only feeling terror.

"Shh, Oliver, you're going to be okay..." A couple of drops fell on his face, and sharps gasps filled the car. He wondered why...

There, on the small detective's chest, was a crudely carved scorpion.

OH WOW AN ANGSTY CHAPTER :D I got close to 3000 words with this one because I couldn’t stop writing and I just didn’t want to leave it like that, yknow?

[heartrip]

👀 + would you like to ask your biological parents about why they didn't raise you?

SEND ME A “👀 + A QUESTION” AND MY MUSE HAS TO ANSWER HONESTLY!

////// cw : sexual/domestic violence mention

It catches him off guard, a question nobody has ever asked him before. Once or twice his adoptive parents had the talk with him - both of them sat opposite him, his mum smiling and his dad serious. Old man Kano ( because giving out his name would be classified information ) saying 'son, just because you're not biologically ours, doesn't make you any less our son.' While his mother would continue ( and always in Japanese because her son should speak Japanese ) - 'your parents simply couldn't keep you and its not their fault. A good thing happened though, we got you. And we love you.'

As a child, it had bought him comfort. As a teen, he'd lashed out. As an adult - well, he couldn't care less ( or so he'd say ).

At the age of twenty-nine, a strange compulsion had urged him to search. With his adoptive parents dead and with resources on his side, he'd figured 'why the fuck not?'

What he'd found hadn't shocked him. Not exactly. Not really.

Mother a whore and father unknown. He'd tracked down the woman to some hovel in the middle of buttfuck nowhere. Seen her from a distance but not bothered to approach - a skinny looking, fifty-something, track marks up her arms and cigarette hanging out of her mouth. She had young kids with her. Half-siblings maybe? Who the hell knows? Despite her age, he'd doubted her life was any better and though a part of his soul had niggled at him to leave money on her doorstep - the bitter part of him had forced him not to.

His father is another story, a story Kano would rather ignore because it's better to ignore it. According to the information given in the records found, his father had been a regular John. A man who would visit his mother every week despite her being barely eighteen. Fifty dollars a pop and the bloke was left happy but after a night short changed and the very same that had left her black and blue...he'd given her Kano as a 'gift'. Left her in a ditch and a few months later she'd found out she was pregnant.

A child of - that -

even pushing thirty it had been hard to acknowledge. So simply...he'd decided not to. As far as Kano is concerned, his only parents ever had been his adoptive ones.

Eye meets her, hazel glistening because the thought of his biological parents is one that tightens a knot in his throat. It isn't him to be quiet or thoughtful - especially isn't him to be emotional.

Silence leads into slow words -

"Nah. I know why they didn't raise me. Better that they didn't-" they couldn't, that scumbag he'd know as his 'biological father' probably would have kicked him out of his mother if he'd known she'd been pregnant. Christ, the thought leaves him aching for a drink. "Anyway my mum and dad were great. Never thought about th'other two."

He smiles now, eye squinting and pressed between those lids would perhaps be the wobble of a tear ( lucky for him, it's hard to spot ).

"An' look how well I turned out, Mel !"

Yeah, look how well he turned out. Make mum and dad real proud, this one.

"...least I made somethin' of meself."

[virovac]

Conan the Barbarian apparently learned to drink his respect woman juice sometime after he tried to force himself on a woman connected to a strange storm and it did not end well

From this I surmise we should throw all attempted rapists into Blizzards.

[theperksofbeingabooksnob]

After doing my dissertation on Beloved by Toni Morrison, I've been dying to read more of her novels and I found he first and latest novel in my local library, and I'm in love. Beloved is still my favourite but these two were really interesting ecspecially with exploring internalised racism. Trigger warning for rape, incest and paedophilia in both novels. #bookphotography #bookstagram #books #bibliophile #instabooks #bookaddict #tonimorrison ##twrapemention

[tyelp-with-a-spear]

I WAS NEVER GOOD AT WORD GAMES IT WAS NARVI'S IDEA. Also, I would not want any r*pe connotations, I assume.

So this Noldo guy who always parks his carriage in front of our forge has put a sign on it that says “sl*y the T*l*ri.” I stole the sign today, reworked it a bit, and now it says “love the Teleri.” I put it back. Keep calm and love your Teleri!

[dupersnail]

just

jst why the hell wpuld you

what the hell i just?!?!?!?

?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!!?!?!?!?!?

im so angry about this

[heartrip]

20 & 31 of the be honest meme?

THE BE HONEST MEME.   aka things you lowkey want to talk about but don’t because you don’t know how to bring it up. send me a number and i’ll tell you the honest truth. either a simple yes or no answer or a detailed response. |

Have you ever felt pressured to write something you weren’t comfortable with?

Don't you know it, bby -

my experiences in other fandoms have been eh. The trouble with playing villains is that people think they can use the villains as their muse's personal villain and that just -

like, let's have some discussion, please.

I'm gangster for fucked up plots and I enjoy writing dark material but the amount of people who would send me prompts like 'my muse is chained up and vulnerable and yours is torturing him uwu' and I'd just ??? Or the rape plots. My god the rape plots.

re torture, it s easier writing a victim than the perpetrator and I think people forget this

You see someone reblog a nsfw meme and they encourage you to send it, you send it and then the reply is literally their muse being raped by yours and it's just. What the fuck? I had that a few times and it disturbed me and quite frankly pissed me off. My muses may be scumbags but they're not rapists.

Nowadays (thankfully) I think I'm much more solid about my boundaries and I always try and establish a medium before heading the shippy route, so I haven't had to deal with anything shit. But yeah - like, I just hated being forced to write fetish fuel for people. Especially people with catboy twinks that wanted 'daddy's uwu dick' - that was never fun. And almost always when I told people who gave me these vibes that I wasn't into the ship or didn't want to do a romantic ship, I'd either be blocked, hounded or ghosted. SMH.

Is there something you don’t know the meaning of but you haven’t asked anyone because you think it’s supposed to be general knowledge? Was there ever something you had to ask someone to explain?

Honestly? Some of the kinks people parade on this site. I mean, I'm a sexually active twenty something and sometimes I see kinks on here and I'm like 'the fuck is THAT?' Google aint my friend. Google hates me.

Also certain genres, like A/B/O, I still kinda don't know what that means I just know I don't wanna do it (lmao).

When I came back to RPing last year I was baffled by the use of banners and stuff ( that caught me off guard ) Generally, I just google stuff because I don't wanna look 2 boomer 4 every1

[virovac]

I feel Ican’t really vent about my hatred of Double Trouble for being an uninteresting s*xual harasser who ruined my enjoyment of the show without risking coming off as enbyphobic.

Like, despite me hating them for the same reasons I’d hate similar male and female villain sue characters, I’m pretty sure I’d be having people saying I should be cancelled If I say I want their stupid teeth punched down their throat.

Its just...why are we expected be okay with this triggering stuff being shoved in and poorly handled just cause its not straight?

On a side note: I hated White Out because Catra acted like a creepy rape_y Sailor Moon villain but its supposed to be okay and shipbaity because she’s not a man.

Listen, I can handle similar topics in p*rn, but you go in knowing whats expected there thanks to tagging and can ready yourself.

Its not even the inclusion but the fact the topics weren’t treated as seriously as you’d hope.

[virovac]

Umm, wow so Mockingbird unleashed a giant monster, putting her own teammates at risk in order to distract them while she hunted down her rapist.

They really were trying to push her as being in the wrong for wanting revenge.

WTF classic Marvel?

And the “Feminist” attempt by a woman writer to try and retcon her not being raped but just wanting to tie up loose ends after breaking up with the guy when he developed violent mental instability...not cool. 

[virovac]

Lady Slither

Lady Slither disappoints me.

The Snake Men ranks are generally either full no-coward scaly-bait or body horror, and she's not really strong enough in either direction.

Let's look at some movie inspiration for a revamp.

Now, some of these are old movies, so bear with me: there is a lot of racism and ableism in the source material. And others are just R-rated.  Few address female sexuality in a good way.

But we ain't here for plot. We're here for monsters.

Confession: I watched none of these films in full but have seen clips on youtube.

From the horror film: The Reptile (1966) about the were snake daughter of a theologian. Ableism and Racism abound in this one, so beware.

This I like because it even looks like an old Masters of the Universe Toy design. Could work well as a ceremonial magical mask at the very least. (Magical masks are good pulp sword and sorcery stuff. 80s He-Man addressed the concept twice: an tv episode and a mini-comic Packaged with Battle Armor He-Man, Trap Jaw, and Fisto; both called Masks of Power

And there's something suitably atmospheric about a  mask becoming fully articulated face once put on.

From the exploitative cult classic, Lair of the White Worm (1988)  we have Lady Sylvia Marsh

(...though uh, warning for anyone checking it out, warning: There is a r*pe scene done by the villainess upon the woman she intends to sacrifice to her god.)

Syliva Marsh combines Fair Folk, vampires and snake influences, and is a total dom the entire time; casually stopping a villainous monologue with clear disappointment and just drowning a paralyzed man when the doorbell rings

With a face changing action feature like Man-E-Faces or Double Trouble, this face could inspire a good toy gimmick.

Before we move on to more modern effects,

Honorable mention is Ray Harryhaussen's stop motion snake woman, who's head bay be a good basis for a redesign

Good design , but more useful for inspiring for a dancer of King Hiss's court.

I like the hair though, just needs a more regal hat

(Also was anyone else bothered by how the cobra half of her acted like a constrictor when her tail had an existential crisis and choked her human half?)

Moving towards more "sexy scaly" side there is the Snake Woman from HISSS (2010) with her head untransformed

The full on feral form looks like it would be better suited for another character though. Perhaps a thuggish snakewoman hanging out with Rattlor and the others

One final thought before I leave:

 I think it would be cool if Lady Slither's cape could turn into wings like Meta-Knight from the Kirby series.