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clangenrising · 8 months

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Month 11 - Leafbare

Mystique was good at her job. Scorch spent the week trying to sneak out of the house at odd times of day but the Folk made that difficult. At least, she was starting to realize, they didn’t actually care how she spoke to them. Whether she pleasantly asked if they would please consider her request or she loudly demanded they open the door right this second, they smiled at her and spoke her words back in their garbled accents. The only rule seemed to be not to shout while they were asleep, which was unfortunate given their strange sleeping habits. Scorch was starting to feel more like the queen of the house than a servant of her Folk.

Unfortunately, that didn’t seem to help her in her attempts to escape. Every time she slipped out the back she was able to slink across the yard at best before Mystique jingled over the fence with a friendly greeting. It was frustrating, to say the least.

That was until the Folk started tinkering with the garden door. She tried to examine what they were doing but the kit Folk quickly carried her away. It wasn’t until after dinner that they took her over to the door and showed her the new tunnel they had made just for her. Excitement thrummed through her and she spent a few minutes just going back and forth through it, testing its limits. She even indulged the kit Folk in a game when they started poking the feather wand through the flap to tease her.

She was free! Now it would only be a matter of time before she managed to slip out under Mystique’s nose and from there she would have no trouble in getting back to the wilderness, assuming fortune was in her favor. She spent the evening playing with her kit Folk and enjoying the warmth of the house knowing that soon she would have to bid them all goodbye. Around dusk, she spotted Mystique walking along the top of the fence and she waved from her window with a wide smile. So long, sucker.

That night, once the Folk had gone to bed and she’d spent a good hour or so trying to get out of her collar to no success, she stepped out into her garden and let the sharp cold of night wash over her. She smiled, took a deep breath, and let it out, watching the fog spill into the air. Turning, Scorch slunk around the side of the house headed for the front yard. She would take the road rather than the fences. That would minimize the chances of being seen by any house cats who might be hanging around.

A sudden rustle from her bushes caught her attention. Her gaze snapped in that direction. Her ears strained for another sound, eyes searched for some identifying feature. It was a cat, that was certain, a thin dark shape crouching in the leaves. Scorch lifted her head and glared at the creature, putting on all the airs her station as Exalted afforded her.

“Who dares skulk around my garden, spying on me?” she asked, tail twitching upright.

The shape shuffled awkwardly and a skinny dark blue and white molly poked her head out of the greenery to squeak, “A-apologies, your grace! I wasn’t spying, I promise!”

“Then what were you doing?” Scorch scoffed, stepping closer to look the cat over. She was thin as a twig and incredibly scruffy, with patches of missing fur and big copper eyes.

“Um,” the cat paled, seemingly unable to come up with another excuse. “I- well-”

“What’s your name, Chaff?” snapped Scorch, enjoying the power she held. If it weren’t for Razor, she might have liked to stick around. Being exalted wasn’t so bad.

“M-midge, your grace,” the cat whispered reedily.

Scorch huffed in amusement. “A tiny fly. Fitting.”

“Y-yes, your grace,” said Midge, ducking her head in reverence.

“Now, Midge, when I ask a question, I expect the truth, do you understand?” asked Scorch and Midge nodded frightfully. “Good. What are you doing in my garden?”

“Um,” Midge shuffled nervously. “I was told to watch the house. A-and follow you if you left.”

“So spying,” Scorch glared.

Midge gulped. “I-I suppose.”

“Who told you to watch me, Midge?” Scorch said quietly, her voice as cold and hard as steel.

“It was Ghost, your grace!” Midge said immediately. “Please, don’t be upset with me! It was him!”

“I will feel how I please!” Scorch snapped, causing Midge to flinch and a spike of exhilaration to leap into Scorch’s belly. Stars, power felt good! “Did he say why he wanted you to watch me?”

“No,” Midge shook her head quickly. “Just that you were never to be alone! Please, I was just doing as I was told, if you must be angry, spare this humble servant!” She cowered, her tail tucked beneath her and her chin on the ground, eyes turned downward.

Scorch hummed thoughtfully. This wasn’t good. What was Ghost up to? Why was he sending cats to spy on her? Maybe he thought she was planning to make good on her promise to murder him. The idea gave her a laugh. Still, this was troublesome. She needed to get away quickly and quietly and this was going to complicate things.

Mind turning quickly, she swished her tail and said, “I will consider it. Now be gone and do not let me catch you here again.”

“I-” Midge hesitated, body rigid. “I can’t, I-” She swallowed. “If Ghost finds out-”

“Forget about Ghost,” Scorch purred dangerously. “Worry about what I will do if you stay.” She wasn’t planning to hurt the cat much. The threat was probably enough to get what she wanted. Still, if a swipe over the ears was needed she wasn’t afraid to do so.

Midge swallowed again, the blood draining from her ears. “I- Please, your grace, I can’t-”

“Do not make me ask again,” Scorch hissed, stepping closer and Midge flinched away. She seemed about to open her mouth to protest again and Scorch had to admit her dedication was impressive but, before either of them could speak, another voice sounded from around the corner of the house.

“It’s alright, Midge,” said Ghost, stepping into view with a frown on his face. “You’re relieved of duty. You can go.”

Midge trembled. “Forgive me, Ghost, I-”

He raised his tail to stop her, “You’re fine. Go home.”

“Y-yes, sir,” she nodded and, with one last glance at Scorch, sprinted off down the side of the house and into the night.

Ghost turned to Scorch with a nonchalant expression and said, “I had a feeling you’d give her trouble.”

“Did you forget our last discussion, Ghost?” she growled, eyes sharp and furious.

He twitched one ear, unphased. “I kept my half of the deal. You’re the one who came back here.” She bristled, tail lashing, but she knew he was right. Besides, she wasn’t exactly interested in the dirty business of killing him, even if her life would be easier with him gone.

“Why are you sending little flies to spy on me?” she asked, changing subject.

“Razor’s orders, I’m afraid,” Ghost sighed. Scorch’s stomach twisted and her paw pads grew clammy. “Now that you have your own flap, Mystique is going to have a hard time keeping eyes on you and he doesn’t want you wandering off on your own.”

“Why not?” she asked, trying to feign innocence, but the tightness of her throat betrayed her. “Doesn’t he trust me?”

Ghost rolled his eyes. “No. He’s still pretty sure you tried to run off on him. It’s going to take some convincing if you want back into his good graces.” Scorch felt sick. She knew what kind of “convincing” he would want. She had to leave tonight.

“I’m going back,” Scorch declared, “and you’re going to let me.”

“Now, why would I do that?” he asked, frowning deeper. That was a good question.

“Because,” she said, the words coming to her tongue a second before she could really think them through, “I can convince your Smokyrose to leave. I can keep her and your kittens safe.” That was a stretch. She didn’t even know if that was something he actually wanted. He had seemed to care when she had spoken to him last but she had no idea what would have changed to make him worry for this litter over the dozens of others.

It seemed she had chosen well. His frown changed from an unimpressed sort of scowl to a tight-lipped, furrowed-browed look of concern. “You really think so?”

Scorch couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. “You really care about them, don’t you?! What’s so different? What makes this girl so special?”

The scowl returned. “I don’t know… I’m getting older. I’m getting tired of coming home to an empty den.” He sat down with a thump, looking askance.

Scorch shook her head. “I think you just liked that she made you feel like you weren’t a scumbag.” She realized, terrifyingly, she was speaking from experience. “There was something fun in pretending you were the cat she thought you were, wasn’t there?”

“Maybe,” his tail started to twitch irritably and he fixed her with a firm glare. “Answer the damn question, Scorch. Do you really think you can keep them safe?”

“I do,” she lied seamlessly. She hadn’t had much luck in convincing Goldenstar yet but maybe a few weeks dealing with Razor had softened her up. Maybe it wasn’t too late. She held Ghost’s gaze as he thought. The silence dragged on for a few painfully long seconds as the cold stung her ears. Eventually, Ghost shook his head and sighed.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Cats will know that I saw you tonight. If you go missing…”

“You coward,” she spat, spine arching upward. “You have the chance to do something right for once and you’re going to throw it away-”

“Listen here-”

“- to save your own skin!”

“You’re one to talk!” Ghost snarled, rising to his feet again. Scorch bristled and bared her teeth. Maybe she would kill him. Goldenstar had taught her enough, there was a chance she could hold her own in a fight against an old cat like Ghost. If she couldn’t… well that would be a whole other problem. If she did something so rash there would be no pretending when Razor came to call. Her excuses would disappear like the fog from her lips and leave her defenseless. The guard on her house would only increase. She would never escape. Her blood was pounding in her ears, it took everything she had to focus on what Ghost was saying.

“All you ever do is think about your own skin!” he continued. “You say what you need to and nothing more! How do I know you would even keep your promise? I mean, you’re just as likely to run off in the opposite direction!”

“Like you’re any better,” she laughed harshly. “You sit back and you do what you’re told like a good little boy because if you do you get your pick of the food and the females and your tiny little brain can’t think to want for anything more than that!”

“I take care of people!” he hissed. “I have cats who need me! You have no one!”

Scorch’s ears pressed back against her head. She knew he was right. As much as the little voice in the back of her head tried to argue, she was utterly alone and always had been. How could he ever understand what it was like walking in her pawsteps? She felt tears starting to prick at her eyes and that only made her angrier. She opened her mouth with a cutting retort but stopped at the sound of a jingling bell and the rattling of the back fence as Mystique leapt from her garden and into Scorch’s.

“What’s going on here?” she called. Scorch immediately turned to her and started to sob. At least she could make the tears useful.

“Mystique!” she wailed, retreating in on herself. Just as expected, her big blue bodyguard bounded swiftly to her side.

“I heard shouting,” she said as Scorch pressed her face into her thick chest fur, “what’s going on?” She looked at Ghost and her eyes narrowed. Ghost’s mouth hung open. This situation did not look good and he knew it. Scorch smirked at him with one eye as she continued to sniffle. Seeing that, his eyes flashed with anger.

“Scorch and I were just having a discussion, that’s all,” he said carefully.

Scorch shook her head and pouted. “He was threatening me,” she said.

“I was not!” he hissed, backing up a step.

“He was!” she said, sitting back and sniffling. “He said I have to owe him favors if I want to go out at night!” Ghost swallowed and took another step back. A low growl rumbled in Mystique’s chest.

“Ghost…” she said dangerously and Scorch could see the fear in his eyes. It tasted rich and just, like prey blood on her tongue.

“Mystique- Your grace,” he said, ducking a bit into a bow. “I can assure you I said no such thing. I was simply informing her of the arrangement we discussed earlier.” Scorch huffed bitterly and leaned her head on Mystique’s shoulder.

“I thought we agreed female guards only,” said Mystique. Razor’s idea, certainly, Scorch thought. He didn’t want the guards to be rivals for her affections.

“We did, your grace,” he said. “I was supervising the guard to make sure nothing went wrong. When Scorch dismissed her I stepped in.”

“Hmf,” Scorch rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you picked a flighty guard on purpose. To get me alone.” Mystique glanced down at her with a raised eyebrow and she turned her expression back to a shaken one, giving an extra sniffle for emphasis.

“I’ll overlook your transgression tonight, Ghost,” said Mystique, turning back to him. She sounded more annoyed to be out of bed than she did angry with Ghost. “Don’t let me catch you here again, though, or my brother will hear about it.”

“Yes, your grace,” Ghost bowed his head respectfully but Scorch could see his eyes burning holes into her pelt. “Thank you.” Mystique flicked an ear and with one last glare, Ghost slank off into the night. Mystique sighed and let her posture relax.

“I’m lucky you came to rescue me,” Scorch said, batting her eyelashes and settling her fur over her shoulders like a proper lady. “He can be such a brute.”

“He didn’t actually say any of that stuff to you, did he,” said Mystique with an impassive expression. Scorch let out a breath as her words briefly failed her. She smiled, trying to find the right lie to get Mystique to believe her.

“No,” she eventually sighed in defeat. “But he did say plenty of other rude things.” She swished her tail over her paws and turned to study the way the slivered moon illuminated the shrubs in the garden.

“Any I need to know about?” Mystique asked. Scorch twitched an ear in her direction. She sounded genuinely concerned at least.

“No…” Scorch sighed. “It's… personal.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. As much as she hated to admit it, he had struck her close to home with his last barb. She was entirely and inarguably alone.

Mystique settled down beside her and wrapped her tail around Scorch’s back. “You guys used to be close right?”

Scorch sighed. “You could say that,” she shrugged, rolling her eyes to the heavens.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

Scorch tilted her head to look at Mystique. The other cat had fixed her with a sort of tough love look, a look that said she was open but not vulnerable and ready to listen. How very tomboyish of her, Scorch thought. She considered saying no and she knew Mystique would leave it at that but she also knew it was only a matter of time until she satisfied her curiosity somewhere else. No, it was better for Scorch to take control of the narrative, give her some of the truth but not all of it.

“Well, you know how he is,” Scorch said. “Always moving from one conquest to the next.”

“I’ve heard,” Mystique grimaced a little. “Did you two ever…” She trailed off, looking unsure.

Scorch laughed. “No. No, he’s a simple boy, really. I knew he would get bored if he ever got what he wanted so I led him on. It wasn’t too hard.” She left out the fact that she had sought him out in the first place, that she had arranged a meeting that seemed like coincidence. She had known he was in charge and that had meant he had the power to keep her safe so long as she played it right. She’d walked a careful line between tantalizingly holding herself just out of reach and laying her affection on thick enough to keep him stuck on her. She’d played the jealous flirt, kept other girls at bay, made sure he had eyes only for her. She wondered if he hated her for that, if he was bitter over the months he’d gone without in the hopes of having her. Serves him right, she thought with a smirk, the old bastard.

“So what happened?” Mystique asked, drawing Scorch’s attention back to more unpleasant things.

“I met Razor,” she said simply.

“Ahh,” Mystique smiled sympathetically. “Let me guess, he wouldn’t take no for an answer.” She said it like it was a charming thing.

“You have no idea,” Scorch laughed but inside she felt a thousand miles away. She remembered the way he had pestered her, the way he’d shown up when she’d least expected him, the way he’d cornered her against a wall more than once and she’d had to find an excuse to leave. She remembered his gaze, his voice, his heat. “But he won me over, you know? I was the one who chose him.”

She remembered the night she’d decided to humor him. If Ghost had kept her safe, she’d reasoned, imagine the security that would come with being Razor’s girl! It had been a calculated gamble - if she could lead him on she would be untouchable - and she had bet on her talents with the opposite sex to keep her safe.

She remembered how foolish and arrogant she had been. She remembered how quickly she had realized her mistake. Ghost enjoyed the chase. He loved the word play and the fleeting touches and the game of it and so had she, to some extent. Razor didn’t play. He toyed. He insisted. And she had given him what he wanted with a smile and all the while she had been thinking, how do I get out of this?

And now she was trapped again. He had made sure of it. There was no way out of the neighborhood. No sure way, at least. Whatever escape attempt she made would be risky and the consequences of failure would be severe. Razor was the kind of tom who did things to show you he could, who took what he didn’t need just to make you feel small. If she tried to leave and failed…

“Are you alright?”

Scorch inhaled sharply and blinked away the tears starting to freeze on her cheeks. When had she started crying? Mystique leaned in worriedly. Scorch laughed in embarrassment, breath fogging heavily in front of her, and daintily wiped the droplets away.

“Oh, yes,” she lied with a smile. “Sorry, I just miss him.”

“Yeah,” Mystique’s worry softened into a frown. Scorch couldn’t tell if she was convinced or not. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to be convincing or not. “Why don’t you go get some sleep.”

“That’s a good idea,” nodded Scorch. They both stood, shaking out their fur against the cold.

“Hey, how about we go see Portia soon,” Mystique offered. “Get your Name Charm interpreted!”

“Oh,” Scorch blinked. “Yes, that's… that’s a lovely idea, Mystique.” She had entirely forgotten. There was a new name, her Folk’s name for her, hanging around her neck. There were cats who claimed they could tell what it was.

“Just pick the day,” Mystique said. “And I’m sorry about the night guards. Razor is worried about you, that’s all.”

“I understand,” said Scorch. “No apology necessary. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

With that, she turned and slipped through her flap. The house was warm and pristine as ever. The air buzzed with the sounds of sleeping machinery. Scorch found her way to the mother Folk’s den and leapt onto the bed then settled down next to her warm face, curling her tail around herself tightly. The human stirred and sneezed. Groggily, she looked around and spotted Scorch through squinted eyes.

“Did I wake you?” Scorch mewed quietly. She felt soggy, like the tears she hadn’t cried were soaking into her being and weighing her down. All she wanted to do was sleep. The human grumbled something in her own tongue and rolled over, pulling Scorch down under the blankets and against her chest. Scorch purred sadly, butting up against the human’s chin.

“Thank you,” she whispered. She snuggled in and tried to drift away. It was nice to imagine, at least for tonight, tucked carefully into such a warm and quiet nest next to her Folk, that she wasn’t alone.

#clan gen #clangen #warrior cats #warriors #warrior cats oc #warriors oc #clangen oc #clan gen oc #Scorchplume #Mystique #Ghost #Midge #TW SA Mention #Leafbare #Razor #swear warning #clangenrising

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nenemisblog · 2 months

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They say 7 years from now on, my body will entirely be a new one. My body will have shed all of its old skin, my hair will be new, my cells will be different, and the lingering feeling of their hands on my body will finally be gone.

In 6 months, I will be the untouched angel I was meant to be <3

#tw sa mention #tw sa #tw sa implied #tw sa vent #trigger warning sa #sa awareness #sa recovery #fresh start #clean girl #pureness #nenemisblog

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breakandbuildfiction · 9 days

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Another Rant About DPxDC Tropes

I didn’t write out all my thoughts on everything in the DPxDC fandom last time, so I decided to write this follow up with some more of them. This time I will primarily be focusing on how people go about using specific characters and their inter-character relationships.

Watering Down and Glorifying Female Characters:

I’ve noticed that this is a theme across a LOT of not only DPxDC fics and prompts, but across a lot of the fanworks for the individual franchises. People will ignore the flaws and shortcomings of female characters and overblow their positive traits purely to make them look more badass or scary compared to the male characters or to make other characters relient on them. Here are some examples:

Poison Ivy: People like to write Poison Ivy as some cool bad girl bent on environmentalism, that she’s pricily but full of ‘cool aunt’ energy. But they ignore the fact that her entire thing is drugging, mind controlling, sexually assulting, and murdering people in the name of environmental terrorism and in some itterations global genocide. She is not by any means someone a hero should be chill with outside of absolutly desperate situations, and even then she should be the second choice after Swamp Thing.

Harley Quinn: She is literally a psycopath suffering from an obsessive love disorder– that she has done a great deal to overcome– who has no problems maiming, crippling, and killing anyone who gets between her and whatever it is she wants at the moment. At her most ‘restrained’ she is working with Batman to hunt down the Joker– with her intent being to kill him– or is on the Suicide Squad taking some weird comfort in being around equally fucked up people and being assured in the knowledge that her murderous tendencies are being used for some level of ‘good’. She was also a very shitty psyciatrist who in many itterations slept her way into passing college and didn’t even last a full year as a lisenced practitioner before joining the Joker. Yes she is trying to be a better person, but she is NOT by any means a good person.

Black Canary: I think the thing I dislike most about how people treat Black Canary is that they hyperfixate on the pseudo-mom characteristics and emergency therapist role she was given in the Young Justice cartoon. I’ll admit that I haven’t read a ton of her comics, but I HAVE read some and I have watched the Justice League Unlimited cartoon as well. With that in mind I feel like people are tragically focusing on the wrong parts of her personality. She is shown to be stand offish, headstrong, confrontational, brash, and manipulative. She isn’t hero-mom coded, she is a femm fatal back street brawler who is fully open to playing off her allies ego to make them do what she wants if she can and leveraging her power and skill at violence to get what she wants. Yes she is a hero and yes she has a softer side, but god damn!

Wonder Woman: This actually goes for all Amazons of Themyscira but here it goes. Wonder Woman grew up in an extremely isolationist, xenophobic, and misandrist (Even if you ignore the run that said the island’s inhabitants are all literal murdering rapists who drown babies. I don’t think that run has been canon for a while anyways.) island nation that was literally blessed by the gods to never have to deal with things like political upheavals, drought, famine, foreign relations, or any other complexaties that real countries have to deal with. Now, to her credit, Wonder Woman isn’t NEARLY as bad as some of her countrywomen, but that doesn’t mean her upbrining hasn’t influenced her worldview and she certainly has never condemned the policies of her nation. She doesn’t treat men as scum outright by any means, but she DOES ignore the shortcomings of women and sees most if not all the troubles of the world as being the fault of the male sex. Just because the woman is empathic does not mean she isn’t a bitch. Also, base Wonder Woman would and has been dogged by base Superman many times. She is maybe the fourth or fifth most powerful JL member goes by base state abilities behind Superman, Martian Manhunter, Shazam, and maybe the Flash. That said, there are forms of Wonder Woman who would make all other base state JL members look like preschoolers pretending to be tough.

Jazz Fenton: Jazz is not a good psychologist or therapist in her teenage years. If you want to age her into her mid-twenties or later after she goes through a proper program, then by all means make her better at helping people with mental and emotional issues. But as a teen she is god aweful at those things. There is a grand total of ONE instance where she showcases actual skill at being able to pin down and identify someone’s issues and that was with Freakshow, whom in that very conversation she admits to having grown up with many of the same feelings he did regarding envy of ghosts and the attention people in her life give them. She never figured out Danny was a hero due to her skill at psychology or determining the cause of his stress, she stumbled onto him transforming after days or even weeks of forcing herself into his business and him asking and then demanding her to leave him alone. Not only this but, and I feel like this should be a very big thing with how much people love to shoehorn in trans-Danny stuff, she routinely calls people by the wrong name even when corrected by others and is told to her face by the people she is misnaming that she is wrong. Some of her names are even dehumanizing like calling Skulker ‘Ghost X’ like he’s nothing but a test subject!

Also, while I’m pretty sure she would qualify as a skilled CQC fighter, I don’t think she ever improved her aim. So while having her judo throw someone or deck them in the schnoz is good, she would probably miss if she had to shoot anyone with a Fenton Blaster at anything further than point blank range. And no, the Peeler doesn’t count, that shit was a full on mechsuit and shots that had a margin of error bigger than a car.

Valerie Grey: This one is a big one for me and probably the big reason I wanted to write this entire section so here it goes:

Valerie Grey ain’t SHIT as a hero.

Now, as a character, she is perfectly fine. She has a full arc with reasonable and understandable reactions to various events that shape her growth as a character. Granted these events make her into a shoot-first, speciesist, possibly slur-throwing, self-righteous, asshole for a while (you know how the ACAB movement sees cops? That was Valerie for a long time, just without government backing and with an oligarch sponsor instead.) but she did eventually get better after the whole thing with Dani and finding out that Vlad is Plasmious. So again, as a character she is good.

As a HERO however, she is really freaking bad. We never really see her do anything major after her revelation with Dani and before that she never actually wins any fights. Danny is always so far out of her league in fights that the only reason she isn’t dead is because he knows who she is under the mask and holds back because he doesn’t want to hurt her. He was capable of blowing up her original suit in a single blast for crying out loud! And even in her second suit he barely had any trouble keeping pace with her WHEN HE WAS ACTIVLY TRYING NOT TO HURT HER! We also never see her defeat any named ghost, I barely remember her even fighting anyone other than Danny, and she is overall just fodder as far as combat goes.

She isn’t scary, she isn’t intimidating, she isn’t the type of girl who could ‘kick Danny’s ass’, she is at best a pissed off woman with a lot of guns and fancy gadgets who thinks she's hot shit despite never winning a significant fight.

Heroes are friends with all the Rogues… Except Joker:

Just… why? Why do people want the heroes to be friends with mass-murdering nutjobs? Be it Danny with Ivy who is basically Undergrowth with tits and a pulse, or Tucker with Technus, or Tim Drake with Harley Quinn it doesn’t make any sense! This isn’t a case of ‘Oh, when they aren’t on the job they are cool people’ like with Flash’s rogues. Nor do they have admirable moral codes or anything else. That kind of stuff is exclusive to Flash’s gallery. Why does everyone write hero or retired Danny as being friendly with villains and thinking they are cool people?! Killer Crock has a tragic backstory but he EATS PEOPLE. Scarecrow makes stuff you could call ghost drugs but he conducts routine chemical weapon attacks on civilian populations! Deathstroke is a pedo or groomer in at least two major timelines! Ra’s runs a cult that kills its OWN MEMBERS whenever they fail near-impossible tasks! Just because they aren’t as full on 24/7 creepy fucker murderers doesn’t mean they are any better than him!

On that note, why do people insist on having Sam idolize Poison Ivy or Jazz admire Harley Quinn? I don’t have a high opinion of Sam and how she goes about her activism and forcing her lifestyle and beliefs on others, but she doesn’t go around drugging people, stealing their money, forcing them to ruin their families, and then killing them! And I like to think that even if Jazz isn’t a good psychologist she would have better taste than to idolize someone who broke a very basic tenant of mental health professionals by getting too attached to her patient and went on to COMMIT MASS MURDER and help TORTURE PEOPLE in an effort of turning on her psychotic boyfriend!

Hating Superman on Kon-El’s behalf:

I get that this trope stems from season 1 of Young Justice, which I will freely admit is an amazing season of a very good show, but I think people forget a few things: 1, Superman’s hatred/distrust of Conner manifests in avoiding him at all costs, not being rude or badmouthing him or anything of the sort, he just doesn’t want to deal with him and what Conner represents. 2, Superman grows out of his hatred/distrust of Conner in like, a year. It was an initial kneejerk reaction paired with extreme awkwardness and distress, but his stance on his clone-son with Lex does get better. And 3, the one who actually hates clones is Supergirl, Kara Zor-El. She straight up gave Conner his Kryptonian name and told him TO HIS FACE that it meant ‘Abomination in the House of El’. She basically named him a slur and said that was all he was. And as far as I am aware, she never apologizes for this nor does their relationship ever really improve beyond ‘we will work together if we absolutely have to’.

Dani and Dan call Danny ‘mom’ ((CONTENT WARNING: Mentions of SA!!!)):

Okay this one is a bit weird for this rant because I will freely admit that depending on if certain other tropes are used concurrently to this one, it makes sense, but by default I say it doesn’t. Ignoring how Danny is by default and in most cases male, his contribution to the ‘conception’ and gestation of Dani or Dan’s clone body (if you ignore A Glitch In Time and have Dan in his original body, Danny still didn’t do any gestation or anything, but things are admittingly different) only went so far as providing some DNA. Vlad did the whole cultivation thing and making sure the decanting happened safely and all that good, very important, stuff. So wouldn’t Danny be the dad in this scenario? Since the equivalent to a regular birth here would be Danny hitting and quitting with Vlad (que barfing reflex at the thought of Danny/Vlad stuff) purposely getting a baby made without Danny’s knowledge for his own benefit and desire for a child? Even if you go by the more accurate real life correlation to SA, Danny still played a male role here because he didn’t carry/grow the baby/clone.

The only reasons I can see for Danny to be labled the ‘mom’ in this situation are; Danny is more nurturing than Vlad– which by a sexist standard means he’s the maternal one–, Danny was the victim in the unauthorized baby making and is thus in the female role– again, a sexist standard–, or because people think ‘single parent’ and immediately assume ‘single mother’. (To be clear, I know that statistically women suffer all forms of SA far more often than men, which is beyond terrible, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen the other way around as well.)

Now, to be fair, if you are also doing trans-man Danny, none of this holds weight and them calling Danny ‘mom’ could stem from that, or because saying Vlad had a kid with a teenaged trans-man makes Vlad look SO much worse and by calling Danny ‘mom’ they are trying to imply that kind of narrative. Which is not a terrible way of writing a story where Danny, Dani, and Dan all hate Vlad, go for the throat and make him look as bad as possible if that’s your goal. I’m just saying that in the default state of Danny being male and Vlad being the one who looked over the cloning pods, Danny is the dad and Vlad is the mom.

#dpxdc #opinion #rant #trope talk #content warning #Mentions of SA #I don't know how to tag

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killherfreakout · 8 months

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Said, "I got a shrink and she said the same thing that everyone else did," and then it was silent You said, "Alright, am I being indicted?" No, no, no

—Samia, Breathing Song

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mister-cynicism · 3 months

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Might I recommend.. the laceygames.com franchise on YouTube, by ghosttundra.

I just watched an analysis on how the franchise tells the horrors of girlhood trauma in such a clever way. From the fear of imperfection, especially in conforming to feminine stereotypes, to the pain of abuse, especially SA, and the feeling of having just your innocence torn away from you.

In the lore, it is stated that "these games are REAL girls' games", which is so clever, because it really is. They're girls' games in a way where girls/AFABs can really relate to what horrors women are truly exposed to in the real world.

If you're into horror, and into media that dives deep into the REAL stuff, I definitely recommend this. I'm AFAB, and it just speaks out to me so much through the imagery that's definitely gonna give me nightmares tonight (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

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anjelicawrites · 4 months

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Aemond allegedly going back to the brothel could be framed as him punishing himself for his bad deeds, if, and only if, framed and written right. I am not holding my breath. It's probably going to be gross, if not offensive for SA victims. Thank you HBO. Truly needed.

#aemond targaryen #sa trigger warning #sa mention

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doomalade · 10 months

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Content Warning: Discussion of SA

So you’re telling me, that Stolas a gay/queer character was written to force Blitzø into scheduled sex sessions if he wants to continue to work, and thus be able to go on living.

Not only that but using his wealth, power, and social status as a bonus power imbalance. Overall fetishizing Blitzø and treating him like a play thing while emphasizing that Blitzø is his “little imp”.

Not to forget how Stolas cheated on his wife breaking an already flawed marriage that was being held up for the sake of Octavia, who now Stolas doesn’t have the time of day to sit down and explain to her what is going on with the divorce.

But no

He’s a wittle UwU pwecious baby soft owl UwU

Can you fucking imagine if Valentino was made sympathetic?

Absolutely disgusting

#doom.txt #cw: sa mention #cw sa mention #content warning #sa mention #helluva critical #helluva critique #stolas critical

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vvictuss · 10 months

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so im totally pro therapy but we should really talk about therapist abuse outside of inappropriate relationships/direct SA because the other stuff will supremely fuck you up too man. like this guy came into my life when i was a severely psychotic and vulnerable teen with a genuinely impaired grasp on reality and 4-5 years later he’s handing me a loaded handgun at a park. if i had known what to look out for, maybe it wouldn’t have gone so far and led to the more common types of therapist malpractice. maybe i could’ve spent those years actually healing instead of getting pulled into codependent insanity with him

fuck u allen you fuckibg creep weirdo. go to mormon hell. i wish the heart attack had booked you

#planning on making a post about some warning signs later #???#???:3 #therapy #therapist #therapist trauma #mental health #bipolar 1 #schizoaffective #trauma recovery #recovery #sa mention #vent post #mental health awareness #psychology #abuse of authority #abuse recovery #medical malpractice #disabled

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rasuo · 5 months

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WARNING FOR: REFERENCED KIDNAPPING, SH, IMPLIED PAST SA, REALLY HEAVY TOPICS

PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION!

Nails digging into their scarred flesh, the burning pain shooting through their veins and replacing the similarly burning touch of their captor and providing them momentary relief and comfort. They barely noticed blood anymore, except when the cold of the dark room they’d been in for months - was it months? They’d lost count pretty fast, especially with the lack of windows in the dark room. Though the cold would make their wounds feel strange constantly, the only hint at how deep their nails had dug.

They hated how they were beginning to grow used to this hellhole, the dirty mattress stained an off brown against the now off white fabric that felt so uncomfortable and disgusting the lay down on. In the beginning of their time here, they’d do anything they could to avoid that mattress, but being here so long they’d grown used to it by now. The only thing they weren’t used to was their captor.

It was as if its touch had dug underneath their skin, and no matter how much they scratched and tore desperately at their own flesh, it was never enough. As if it was burnt into their body, going deeper than flesh and into the muscles beneath, so no matter how hard they rubbed and rubbed the feeling would never leave, only giving a momentary illusion of relief when the pain overwhelmed the disgusting feeling branded into their very being.

After tearing into their skin once more, they decide to curl up on the mattress once more, sleep being just a way to pass time in this hellhole. But today it was also because they just felt tired. Physically or mentally, they couldn’t tell anymore, but they did hope they’d feel at least a little better when they woke up.

•••

Once they woke up, they could feel the stinging feeling of raw flesh covering their body, whining in pain as they forced themself into a sitting position. Raising a hand to rub their eyes, they notice the tips of their fingernails painted that same rusty crimson so common in this place. Deciding they needed a better comfort, they reach for the small knife they’d sneaked into their pocket last time they’d managed to sneak upstairs.

Their captor wasn’t the happiest with that, having punished them horribly for it, enough to make their body feel disgusting for a while now. As their hands touched the cold knife handle, its blade still stained crimson, their brain began to blur, their ears ringing loud enough to distract them from reality, only zoning back into the present when the blade hit a particularly painful spot.

Holding their hand to the wounds to try and stop the bleeding, they try and take deep breaths to get their head to clear up, but what really clears their senses up is the sound of the basement door creaking open. The way it looked at them, its mouth pulled into a sickening grin that sent chills down their spine, its many eyes burning into their very being, full of a wrath so intense it made them tremble under its gaze. They knew exactly what he’d come down here for, and that it’d be much worse this time due to their arm. Within a second, it was upon them, its hand grabbing at their wrist, its claws digging into their flesh and sending waves of fear down their spine, them squirming and kicking until all they could see was red.

Red spurted out of its body, the creature collapsing to the floor and screaming in agony. As they managed to regain their composure, they quickly sit up and pull themself as far away as possible, trying to ignore the nauseating feeling of its blood soaking through their clothes. Glancing at its unmoving body, it was as if it had been torn open from the inside out, but it clearly wasn’t anything natural. As its body began to stop moving, it was as if reality had finally hit for them. They instantly run to its side, kneeling down and shaking its shoulder desperately, their vision blurred for a reason they couldn’t explain, their eyes unusually damp.

“Hey- answer me!”

It’s skin… skin? Did it always have skin like theirs? It felt cold to the touch, much different than the feeling burned into their memory. But the red staining their hand now was all warm, a stark contrast to its body, or maybe he? They weren’t quite sure anymore. He looked less scary now, less intimidating and more human in a weird way than the horrific creature they’d seen previously. Was it because he stopped moving? He couldn’t hurt them if it couldn’t move. Was that why being in his presence didn’t paralyze them in fear anymore?

Feeling more of the wet red liquid staining their skin as it pooled around their captor’s body, they quickly stand up, vision hading for a moment as their ears began to ring. As their vision faded back in, they quickly turned on their heel and ran out of the building as fast as they could, ignoring the pain of their bare feet hitting and scraping against the rough terrine. They were finally free from that place, but where would they go now?

They had no memory outside that house, nothing of parents or friends. They had nothing. So they just continue to run and run until they stumble upon an alleyway. Maybe that would be a good start.

#bsd #bsd oc #bsd rp #bungou stray dogs #writing #tw sh #tw sa mention #tw sa implied #tw kidnap mention #let me know if I need to add anymore warnings!

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