#cripple on cripple violence

[mebiselfandi]

Y’all wanna injure each other even more?

[crimson-nail]

same guy

[miaoqing]

actually you know what pisses me off even more than people making excuses for shen jiu????!!! people making excuses for shen jiu AND THEN turning around and criticising BINGHE!!!!!!!

[majaurukalo]

One of the (many) things that makes disabled people the most marginalised community is that there will always be some kind of degree to which a good number of people will think that discrimination against us is okay. That it’s even “healthy”.

Think of separated entrances for disabled people into buildings. You’d never have separated entrances for black people today because history taught us well.

But it’s okay to have a different entrance for disabled people because a ramp looks ugly in the front or it “can’t be build”. So we have to go to the back, slalom through garbage bins, get lost in some corridor.

People justify this.

People justify institutionalisation of disabled people because “that’s the best way to take care of them” (breaking news, no it’s not).

People justify keeping disabled people outside of certain places, venues, fields, experiences because “it’s too dangerous”, “we can’t think of everybody”, “it’s too hard” yada yada.

And many don’t the see the real problem.

People justify the sterilisation of disabled people “because they can’t take care of children/their periods/whatever”.’

Like, we are not even considered enough for our own bodily autonomy.

Even when a disabled person is murdered by a family member the killing is justified and the family member who killed is “the poor thing who couldn’t bear with it anymore” and the murdered disabled person becomes “the angel who is now free from the life’s pains”. But no one asked them if they enjoyed their life, if they wanted to live.

Because a disabled life is not supposed to be good, right?

It’s always “for the sake of us”, “for our safety”, “to protect us” as if we can’t take decisions, as if we aren’t human beings with feelings, dreams, choices, desires, needs.

Nothing done against us can be intended for our best interest or our own good. It’s for the good of the abled-bodied society.

Period.

[jumpywhumpywriter]

"The Lost Hero" - Crippled Hero Presumed Dead part 1

Warnings: crippled hero, hero with disabilities, retired hero, reluctant hero, near-death experience, reluctant rescue

***I don't see nearly enough of heroes with seriously traumatic, permanent injuries in writing. Like, not just classic scarring, but the kind that sticks with them every day and impacts everything from the way they move to their confidence levels. Physically handicapping kind of old wounds. Maybe they just didn't heal right, who knows. Anyways I decided to write what I've always wanted to see! Enjoy!! 👇👇

The last time Hero was seen alive was 5 whole years ago, in her final battle with Supervillain. But it had gone so terribly wrong. They had been fighting in the bottom level of a skyscraper Supervillain had rigged to blow, unbeknownst to Hero. Supervillain tried to escape the building, leave Hero to die when the bombs exploded, but Hero had been fighting too hard, keeping him from leaving. And so, the bombs went off, and the skyscraper collapsed... right on top of the two most famous figures in the city, crushing them. Supervillain's body was found a day later... but Hero was never located, though she was presumed dead after the horrific accident. Her final sacrifice to save the city.

After Hero’s death, the city was in shock. There had been years of peace and safety won by Hero's noble sacrifice… Before New Supervillain came along. With no hero to protect the city, New Supervillain easily took over, working his way through the government until he was in total control of the people and businesses, forcing them to bend under his tyrannical rule. Anyone who stood against him would be executed on the spot.

5 years later after Hero’s sacrifice...

-------------------------------------------------------

Logan was a 15 year old boy who was hurrying home, mind abuzz with typical teenager thoughts as he weaved his way through the crowded city streets, when he stepped into the street to cross without looking for traffic. A loud horn blared, and he froze with terror at seeing the two large semi truck headlights bearing down on him, paralyzed with panic.

There was no way the huge truck could stop in time. Logan's instincts screamed at him to run, to move for crying out loud, but his feet were rooted to the spot, muscles locking up with fear, trapping him in place as the truck's brakes screeched and squealed on the asphalt, doing little to slow its momentum.

Logan's breath hitched, terrified as he braced himself for the inevitable impact -- but something else collided with him a millisecond before the truck did, slamming into him from the side with enough force to knock the breath from Logan's lungs, tackling him. Strong arms wrapped around him, and he sucked in a gulping gasp of air as he hit the ground hard, a blast of pain zinging through the arm he'd tried to use to catch himself.

His body suddenly tingled as though he'd just been zapped by a strange static electric shock, and he blinked in surprise to find himself staring up at a woman's face who was practically sprawled on top of him, her eyes filled with muted panic and fear. And worry. She was wearing a black hooded cloak that shrouded her features in darkness, but he still caught a glimpse of those piercing blue eyes before she turned her face away, pushing herself off of him with a grunt.

Logan sat up, dazed, looking around to see a small crowd gathering, gawking at him with concerned faces as the semi-truck driver hopped out of his vehicle to check on him. The driver was saying something frantic to him, probably apologizing profusely, but Logan was still wrapping his head around the fact that he'd almost died, that the strange woman had tackled him out of the way at the last second to save him.

As the woman stepped away from him, her eyes flicked over his prone form, lingering on his now-bloody arm from where he'd hit the edge of the concrete sidewalk. Then, without even saying a single word, she pulled the hood further down over her face and turned, walking briskly away with a slight limp, despite appearing uninjured. She wasn't sticking around as Logan became the center of attention, everyone asking if he was okay.

Logan glanced down at his shirt, blood going cold as ice as he noticed the slightly singed cloth where the stranger's arms had wrapped around him. It couldn't possibly be... could it?

Bystanders helped him to his shaky feet, checking him over while others called an ambulance, but Logan wasn't listening. "I-I'm fine!" He hastily blurted, snapping out of his state of shock and pulled himself away from the worried hands, pushing through the small crowd to chase after his unexpected hero. He needed to thank her... as well as sate his hopeful curiosity.

He barely caught a glimpse of the edge of her black cloak disappearing around a corner, stumbling in his stride before catching his balance as he raced to catch up. Shouts from concerned people called after him, but he ignored them.

Logan skidded around the corner, darting into the dark alleyway the stranger had slipped into. "Wait!" He cried as he finally spotted the hooded figure. He ran up before she could escape, tugging at her cloak to snatch her attention.

The stranger flinched and yanked the edge of her cloak from his hands, whirling around but still slightly turned away.

"I didn't get to thank you," Logan panted breathlessly. "If you hadn't been there--" his voice caught in his throat, and he realized he was trembling all over, adrenaline still coursing through his veins. The woman just nodded in acknowledgment, still unusually silent, before turning to keep walking.

"W-Wait! I need to ask something--"

The stranger paused in her step, but didn't turn to face him.

"My shirt... did you burn it?" Logan knew how it must have sounded, such an out of the blue, unusual question. But the woman's reaction was the exact one he was looking for, as she stiffened, going rigid. His mind reeled with dawning realization.

"You... You're Hero, aren't you?" Logan breathed hopefully, said like more of a statement than a question. Hero was the only one he ever knew of who could do that, who had the ability to control electricity. Who could burn without a flame. And who could have been fast enough to cross the street and tackle him out of the way before he was hit.

The stranger finally turned and reached up and pressed something shiny and metal stuck to her neck, a tiny blue light appearing before she opened her mouth for the first time.

"No... I'm not," a raspy voice sounded, hoarse and wheezy. "You've got the wrong person." Her hand dropped from her neck, and she pointedly turned away. But Logan darted around in front of her to block the path, his eyes huge with excitement and wonder.

"No way... You're alive? The whole city thinks you're dead!" He gasped. Her reaction all but confirmed it. It had to be Hero, the same hero that has disappeared five solid years ago, never seen again.

Hero was presumed dead after an intense battle with Supervillain that went down all those years ago. Supervillain had killed several heroes in the past, leaving Hero as the only one strong enough to face him. He was notoriously well-known for being dangerous and lethal.

The ensuing superpowered battle had leveled several whole blocks, and ended with the destruction of a skyscraper from a bomb Supervillain had intended to use to kill Hero, the last surviving hero in the city. But he'd been trapped in the building with Hero when the structure collapsed prematurely. Supervillain's body was found buried in the rubble a day later. But Hero's never was.

The woman's blue eyes were wide with surprise but tinged with sadness and guilt, before she shook her head grimly, pressing the side of her neck again. Maybe a nervous habit, or something more?

"No... Hero died in the accident, just like the news stations stated. Hero doesn't exist anymore. So leave me alone. I saved you because I just happened to be fast enough. Adrenaline gives you that kind of strength." She brushed off the accusation, reasoning with him. Her shoulders sagged, and she took a step away from Logan. "Go away, kid... there's no hero here."

The words hurt like a dagger to the chest. Logan was so sure this was Hero -- but if she was, why hide for so long? Why let the city fall into chaos under New Supervillain's rein? Why not stand up and fight the new evil?

"What are you so scared of?" Logan challenged. "I mean, you're Hero, you've taken down endless criminals and villains before. Why did you disappear for so long? Why let New Supervillain win?"

"Like I said, kid... Hero doesn't exist anymore." The woman's voice was gruff with a tone of finality, and her sharp blue eyes dropped to Logan’s arms, where blood was streaming down in scarlet rivulets.

"You're hurt. Go see a doctor, get it patched up, and forget this ever happened. Okay? No one will believe you anyway if you tell them I'm alive. After all, you're seeing a ghost."

Logan clapped a hand over the gash in his arm -- the wound had started throbbing now that the adrenaline wore off. But then he looked back at Hero, jutting his chin up and giving her the fiercest glare he could muster. "I'm not going anywhere until you give me answers," he said stubbornly.

Hero pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering something incoherent under her breath, but there was no mistaking the tone of exasperation. Her hood hid her face, but he could have sworn her features were twisted with confliction, torn.

"Please, I want to know what happened," Logan tried, speaking a little softer, more pleadingly.

Hero let her hands drop to her side, and she glared right back at him with equal intensity. Logan jumped as sparks of electricity crackled in her hands, a threat of greater danger to come.

"I'll give you one last warning. Turn around and walk away, or I'll fry your brains out," she growled low in her throat, her voice deadpan and flat.

Logan's heart faltered for a beat with fear. Hero was certainly capable of following through with that threat. But he watched her body closely and could see her weight shifting uneasily on her feet. It was a bluff, a final attempt to scare him off.

"...Then I guess you'll have to fry my brains out," Logan croaked weakly. He was taking a risky gamble.

Hero stayed stiff for a few agonizingly long seconds, before caving, the electricity sizzling out as she sighed wearily. "Why do you even care?" She hissed in annoyance. "New Supervillain's already controlling the city. Sometimes it's better to just... tolerate it, rather than try to be a martyr and go against higher powers. Sometimes you have to go with the flow."

"Only dead fish go with the flow!" Logan retorted angrily. "What happened to fighting for justice, for peace?"

Hero didn't even argue, just let out a long breath. "That was a long time ago, kid. I'm not that hero, not anymore. Not since..." She cut herself off, clearing her throat awkwardly. "My point is, I'm done fighting. My hero days are behind me, and I plan to keep it that way.”

Logan gaped at her in disbelief. "You can't be serious! You're just going to let New Supervillain run this city however he wants and not lift a finger to stop it?!"

Hero nodded tiredly, but he didn't miss the fraction of hesitation that came before. It gave him a sliver of hope.

"Please, Hero... we need you," Logan practically begged.

Hero's eyes suddenly flared with hurt and anger, and her raspy voice rose to a quiet shout, though it was harsh and grating and strained. "I can't, kid! You don't understand, I don't want to be Hero anymore. Screw the city, no one was there to save me when every bone in my body was crushed, when I was choking on blood and dying in a collapsed skyscraper. I gave everything for the people, and all it brought me was pain and suffering and loss. So forgive me if I'm not too keen on taking more bullets for the sake of the citizens. I've given more than my fair share of effort into protecting people, many years of my life dedicated to it. They can save themselves for once."

"But--" Logan sputtered and floundered around his words, reeling.

Hero's eyes softened pityingly. "I'm truly sorry to crush your dreams of freedom, but it's not going to happen. The best advice I can give is to go home, live your life to its fullest. Chances are good you will never cross paths with New Supervillain in-person anyway; he's too busy and distracted ruling his new kingdom of a city."

"Can you at least tell me why?" Logan finally choked out, his voice cracking.

Hero hesitated, her eyes glancing around both ends of the shadowed alley on high alert before she stepped closer. "Fine. You want answers? Come with me. It's... not safe to talk around here." Her voice dropped low and quiet, and without another word, she headed off.

Logan's heart skipped a beat with apprehension mixed with excitement to be trailing after such a legendary figure. Although, she wasn't anything like he'd ever expected. Far from the powerful Hero he'd seen pictures of in the newspapers five years ago, or that he'd caught glimpses of in villain battles.

He followed in silence as Hero traveled through the back alleys, navigating them with resolve and purpose in each step -- though Logan couldn't get his mind off her uneven, almost lurching gait. Subtle, but noticeable, like slightly favoring one leg, or limping.

Eventually Hero stopped in front of a large blue dumpster, suddenly appearing alert and edgy as she scanned around for any unwanted eyes. Then, satisfied that they were alone, she braced her shoulder against the side of the dumpster and pushed against it with her supernatural strength, scooting it to the side with a loud scraping sound.

Then she tapped the wall of the brick building the dumpster had been against before gripping around one of the bricks, pulling off what Logan realized was a false cover made to look exactly like the brick surrounding it. He took a surprised half-step back at seeing the square hole that was revealed, like some kind of creepy hidden tunnel.

"Down here's where I've been hiding out," Hero explained in her wheezing voice. "Follow close, and do not touch any of my stuff without permission. A lot of it is too dangerous for curious hands. Got it?"

Logan nodded eagerly, making note of her words. He watched as Hero crouched down to fit into the small space, disappearing into the dark. He shivered uneasily, but obediently followed her in. He tripped in surprise before realizing he was standing at the top of a staircase, and he felt his way down it with his feet, down into the unknown darkness. He could only hear the rustling of Hero's cloak in front of him as she descended into her underground hideout.

Then, the flip of a switch, and light flooded his vision. Logan winced and covered his eyes with a hand, waiting for them to adjust. He stared around with wide eyes at the room he found himself, taking it all in.

It wasn't as fancy or high-tech as he would have expected, in fact it was rather messy, a few tables cluttered with disorganized piles of various electronics and old devices, evidence of someone who likes to tinker.

Weapons lined the walls, wickedly sharp blades of all kinds along with dozens of others he had no idea how to use. Some junk papers and maps were scattered about randomly on both tables and floors, while others were pinned up on a corkboard in no recognizance order. It looked so strangely... normal, almost. Like a messy apartment room.

But one thing in particular snagged Logan's attention. Pinned up against the back wall, was Hero's hero suit, all mangled and covered in burn marks and dirt. Large holes were torn into the leather, evidence of a fierce fight. To be honest, it looked a lot like it had been through a paper shredder.

Hero strode over and sank into a chair sitting in front of one desk, and for the first time, pulled off the cloak and set it on down.

Logan barely stifled the horrified gasp that threatened to tear out of him. Hero's face was a mess of vicious scars like a messed-up tattoo spiderwebbing across her skin, that stretched all down her neck, and even her arms -- at least the parts that were visible from her short-sleeved shirt.

"...Are those all from the skyscraper accident?" Logan couldn't help asking. He felt insensitive for the question, but Hero answered regardless.

"Most of them are, but others... I got long before the fight with Old Supervillain." She winced at some phantom pain before her cold composure returned.

Logan stepped over to the nearest table, marveling at all the artifacts scattered thoughtlessly about. A loose dagger caught his attention, and he found himself instinctively reaching for it to get a better look, when Hero's stern voice cut in.

"What did I say about no touching?"

Logan instantly jerked his hand back, glancing apologetically at Hero. He thought for sure there was a flicker of amusement in her expression. Then his gaze darted back to the dagger. The blade looked rusty, but as he peered closer he realized that it was just crusted with dried red--oh.

Hero nodded to it, reading his thoughts. "That's the same blade I stabbed Old Supervillain with before the building came down on us both."

"Really?" Logan breathed in amazement. And the corner of Hero's mouth almost twitched up into a smile -- almost.

"Yes."

Logan stared wide-eyed at Hero, a dozen questions bouncing in his mind, but Hero held up a hand to keep him silent before he could pepper her with them.

"First, I assume you want to know why I can't fight New Supervillain?" She quirked an eyebrow, and he nodded vigorously.

Hero pointed to a small metal circle resting innocently against her skin, the one she’d pressed before speaking in the alley. "My vocal cords were crushed in the accident, I can't speak without this device in my throat keeping my entire throat from collapsing. I can control my voice's volume from the button on the side of my neck." Then she gestured to her leg, pulling up the cloth pant leg covering it to reveal giant, ragged scars torn down it, almost more scar tissue than normal flesh, a mangled mess of thick white lines and long-healed gashes and lacerations. That explained the limp Logan had noted.

"My leg is permanently ruined, shattered one too many bones in it when the building caved. It never quite healed right." She let out a humorless laugh. "What use is a crippled hero who can't talk on her own, can't even walk right, let alone fight? I'm done, kid. Retired. Go find someone else to stop Supervillain. Anyone but me." She rubbed her temples with her forefingers as though to soothe a headache.

"But you don't need to walk right to fight!" Logan blurted. "Can't you just, you know, use your powers to zap Supervillain?" He imitated shooting lightning from his fingertips, and that earned a quiet chuckle from Hero.

"It doesn't quite work like that. I need my agility, my skillset, my powers are worthless if I can't keep myself from being hit by whatever weapons Supervillain might have. I need to be able to move, to nimbly dodge. There's a lot more to fighting than just 'see enemy, and strike them'. But you're too young to know better."

"But there has to be something you can do!" Logan argued.

Hero leaned back in her chair with a bone-weary sigh. "It's a miracle I'm even alive at all, after what I went through five years ago. But the damage is permanent, there's nothing you can do to fix it. My body aches and hurts every day of my existence, I'd rather stay hidden away down here in my bunker than go fight another psychopath."

She laughed dryly, shaking her head. "And you know what's even worse? Villain is the one who dragged me out of the wreckage, who stitched me back together like some messed up jigsaw puzzle to keep me alive. And of course, he didn't do it for free." She tapped on the metal piercing her neck that led to the device in her throat. "This thing doesn't just give me my voice back, it's what's keeping me alive. It keeps my throat and airways open so I can breathe. Villain has a device that lets him control its functionality, which means he can snuff my life out on a whim if he wants, leave me drowning in air at any time, suffocating. He was a surgeon before he became a villain, so he knew how to set all my broken bones in place. There wasn't much he could do about my shattered leg, though. Too many bone fragments to piece together." Her gaze fell to the floor with shame.

"I'm only alive because Villain wanted me to be. He wanted to control me. Told me that if he ever needed my help for anything, I would do whatever he wanted or he would use his device to choke me out. Said it was a small favor for 'saving my life' after I fought Old Supervillain.” A bitter laugh escaped her. “I haven’t heard from Villain ever since he let me go, though, so clearly I'm not useful enough to be of any value yet, if he’s never bothered to call me to his aid.”

Hero leaned back in her chair, and Logan saw her visibly wince as the movement jarred her shredded leg.

“So what, you’re just going to spend the rest of your days wasting away down here?!” Logan blurted incredulously.

And to his utter astonishment, Hero merely nodded. There was no fight left in her hollow eyes, her defeated expression. Nothing but pain and exhaustion. “That's exactly what I’m doing,” she rasped tiredly. “Saves me a whole lot of suffering. Because the thing is, kid… you’re too innocent to understand what I've been through, and I'm too broken to remember what ‘peace’ is… there is nothing left for me to fight for. Right here in this bunker, I'm alive. No fighting, no patching myself up in the night – all I have to do here is exist. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

“It sounds lonely," Logan said pointedly. Hero shrugged.

“Some days are harder, when it's just Me, Myself, and I… But I've learned how to live with it.” She gestured to the staircase they'd come down earlier. “You’ve stayed here long enough. It's almost night, you should hurry home before your folks start to worry about you. At least you have someone who will notice when you're missing.” Logan didn't miss the hint of bitter wistfulness lacing Hero’s voice before she averted her gaze away from him.

Logan automatically went to the staircase, but paused at the bottom of it to turn back. “Hero?”

“Hmm?”

“...Thanks. For… For everything you've done, now and… before.”

Hero nodded sadly, and Logan headed up the stairs with a heavy heart to be greeted by the sharp sting of cold night air on his face as he stepped into the alley.

Logan's mind whirred the entire walk home, and the blood on his arm had already dried by the time he made it back. His excuse was that he'd tripped and fell after his parents questioned him. He cleaned himself up and headed to bed, slipping out of his shirt. He stared numbly down at the small singe marks in the cloth, replaying the rescue in his mind over and over again, letting the new knowledge sink in.

Hero was alive. And he was determined to find a way to bring her back, to give her the determination she needed to be the legendary hero she once was. It was up to him to change her mind, to get her to stand up for justice and freedom. He was already working on ideas of how to do that, and he knew just where to start as he flopped down into his bed for the night.

Hero might have lost faith in herself... but Logan certainly hadn't. And he would find a way to prove it.

This one sort of just popped in my head randomly, not sure if I should continue it or not. But hey, a crippled and half-mute hero who's given up fighting getting a reason to live again and get out of the ditch despite all the odds might be an interesting series, right???

Next ⏩️

Masterlist

Masterlist #2

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump

@otterfrost @sausages-things

[the-kitty-hell-system]

if you are short, but not a little person you have no right to be in conversations about dwarfism. shut the fuck up. you do not experience the violence and discrimination i experience as someone with dwarfism. you are an average sized person. ive been thrown down the fucking stairs by a drunk, average sized man, for the purpose of "dwarf throwing" (which by some is considered a FUCKING SPORT). and i never got justice for it. i am a fucking paraplegic, i have brain damage. we arent midgets we arent "just short" we arent a joke we are little people we are disabled people we are people. if little people are apart of your joke, you arent funny. you should honestly get thrown down the stairs like i did lmao. if you make fun of little peoples height and call it a "joke". you arent funny. why is it that my condition is a joke to all my friends? why is it that all they do is make fun of me for how tall i am, ignoring that i am literally disabled? i am 4'0, that doesnt mean ANYTHING on if im a person or not. i have achondroplasia and cleidocranial dysplasia. im not a fucking joke, the violence i experience isnt a damn joke and you should really stop dehumanizing little people.

[anomalousmancunt]

"fakeclaiming isn't even a real issue, some of us have deeper issues, like being ignored by doctors" do y'all... realize what fakeclaiming is?

and most importantly, if you have more important issues than "people whining about being fakeclaimed", then by god why are you wasting your precious time fakeclaiming them?

[delightfulweepingwillows]

I wish all people who say “just exercise” a very go step on a lemon juice covered Lego break please and get your head out your ass

/referencing the Bugs Bunny meme template “I wish all… a very”

This is mainly about disorders, disabilities, and weight.

And I’m fat, but this isn’t just about fat people it’s about people of any body type. And it’s about any disorder or disability, physical or mental.

[waywardtyrantpirate]

TW; mentions of stabbing an psych wards

I get pissed when people are like "I'm a psychopath 😈" an make being a psycho all fun an games an even an "im better than you" type of ego thing. But then people don't romanticize actual psychotic symptoms or symptoms of psychosis. You can't romanticize people rocking back an forth or pacing back an forth or even mumbling to themselves an talking an not making sense. Because then you're "crazy" bad TM.

I had to stab my father when I was younger due to self defense an the fact that I was undiagnosed schizophrenia (still am, im working on that). I was put in a psych ward as a child.

It's not fun having these problems bc you're actually villainized for it. When I'm just been undiagnosed an nobody cared until it started to affect other people. I'm so fucking done w/ this bs.

[grimalkinmessor]

For real though as someone who has watched both MP100 and Steven Universe I can tell you with relative certainty that the reason SU is so hated is because there were complex women in it. A lot of the guys (gn) that praise MP100 as SUCH a good show that shows the power of MERCY and UNDERSTANDING are literally the same people that shit on SU for being "too pussy to prosecute its villains properly" <- real words from a man I've spoken with about it 🙃

I like both shows and they're actually very similar, which is why it's hysterical to me when people try to rag on SU after having praised MP100 so ardently like,,,,if you're misogynistic just say that lmao

[wishful-seeker]

Tw: ablism, violence

The amount of ablism towards little people is INSANE

The amount of people who openly admit they want to hurt little people is INSANE

The amount of people who consider little people one big joke is INSANE

Hope you all fucking rot

[69consellationsinatrenchcoat]

Mkay so we weren't going to talk about anything related too closely to our country for privacy reasons

However,

After today

I say fuck that.

I want the world to know that the present New Zealand government has just removed most kinds of usable funding for disabled people. Without speaking to the disabled community. And said they are doing it for the benefit of the community.

I never saw myself saying this but I'm with Guy Fawkes. Burn the government to the ground.

[olkarrion]

i have been harrassed, threatened, beaten, pushed down the stairs, yelled at, mocked, and treated like a freak my whole life because of my tourettes. being visibly disabled as a child and being subjected to physical violence because of it is traumatic in a way i dont know how to explain. ableism is fucking evil, teach your shithead kids better.

[bonefall]

how the fuck did clear sky get into cat heaven. he literally:

-killed multiple cats (or attempted to)

-disrespected starclan (the whole drown the stars in blood thing)

-try to start a whole war

-threw out his crippled brother

-tried to kill bumble (later the god of speech)

-and a dozen more that i can’t think off the top of my head.

it would be cool for an au possibly where one-eye dies but never forms the dark forest (like he doesn’t believe in religion thus never makes cat hell) and instead clear sky is the first one dammed and the first cat to walk the dark forest. this could be a great set up for later arcs where maybe in the distant future we see the dark forest fighting starclan (again) but this time it’s not tigerstar and firestar, it’s clear sky and gray wing

StarClan is flawed from its inception. It's the ancestors of all Clan cats, not just the ones from the Forest Four.

And that included Clear Sky, founder of SkyClan, cat who invented and established borders and war tactics. It's him and his followers who set the battle culture of the Clans that would come after, a snowball that would only grow larger and larger until it reached the state we see in TPB.

StarClan is the way that it is because of him. Him and cats like him are what encouraged StarClan to develop into the reactionary, self-righteous entity that it is, doing what they believe is right to 'protect' the Clans while still thinking their ego is something that must be coddled.

[local-queer-classicist]

I wrote a short poem for a disabled spider I met during art history class do u want to read it

Five-Legged Spider on a Sketchbook

Five-legged spider on my sketchbook

How did you get there?

Can’t climb down with five legs

Can’t help, I’m too scared

Can’t draw with you on there

Can’t kill you, you’re just like me

A five-legged spider on a sketchbook

Stuck for the gods to see

[jumpywhumpywriter]

"The Lost Hero" - Crippled Hero Presumed Dead part 3

Warnings: crippled hero, hero with disabilities, retired hero, reluctant hero, mute/voice hindrance, ambush

Exactly three days later, Noah called him. He'd really done it, invented and created a unique brace designed specifically for Hero's particular ailment.

Logan beamed with happiness when Noah brought it over to his house to show him, and soon enough the two of them were jogging down the city streets to the hidden alley Hero stayed in to show her, hoping with every fiber of their being it worked.

Logan called out and waited for Hero to pull aside the fake wall concealing her hideout, and Hero looked just as surprised as last time to see them here again, as she pressed on the metal disk on her neck.

"...You came back?" She said simply, shocked.

"Of course we did!" Logan blurted, then gestured to the bag Noah was carrying. "And we've got a surprise for you!"

Hero's eyes widened. "You really went to the trouble to...?" She swallowed hard, trailing off, before stepping back to let them into her hideout.

Logan expected snappy remarks about how they'd wasted their time trying to help her, but Hero said nothing, her eyes trained on the bag Noah was carrying as he set it on the floor and unzipped it, pulling out a strange contraption that had several long, thin pieces of metal with hinge points and straps.

"This is the brace I created," Noah explained. "It's made of titanium, strong and ultra-lightweight to avoid inhibiting any movements. It should do the trick for you..."

Logan didn't miss the achingly hopeful expression that flitted across Hero's face as she nodded, no trace of her previous cold demeanor remaining. It had been a facade, he realized. She didn't expect them to follow through on their promise.

Hero sat down in a chair, hands quivering slightly as Noah came and started strapping the brace to her leg, checking the fit and putting some bolts in to fix it in place. "This hinge also contains a small device that will help ease your movements and allow you to move more freely; I used the same technology that allows bionic arms to move on command." Noah stood up with a proud smile. "It was certainly a challenge, but the results were better than I expected. Go on and try it out!"

Hero hesitated, letting out a shaky breath, before pushing up out of the chair to stand. She tested it out, crouching and straightening a few times to feel out her new range of motion as she got used to her new balance. Then her eyes narrowed determinedly, and she suddenly took two running steps forward -- and performed an elaborate combat flip, elegantly twisting through the air before landing with a slight wince, but a huge smile.

"I haven't been able to do that in ages," she breathed in awe, half to herself.

Hero stared down at her braced leg in amazement, and for the briefest second, her whole face lit up like a kid who had just received the best Christmas gift in the world, before she sheepishly squashed the expression down. But Logan didn't miss the spark of life that flashed through her features, the glimmer of hope mixed with amazement.

Hero made a complete circle around the room -- without a limp. Her smile inched back on her face and widened, and this time she couldn't hide it.

"I... I have no words..." Hero croaked in her raspy voice. She shook her head in sheer disbelief, turning to face the two young men who had given her the greatest gift of all. "I am sorry for my behavior last time, it wasn't right of me to be cruel. I never imagined you would uphold such a promise, I thought your words were empty and hollow. I am eternally grateful that I was wrong."

Noah beamed under the praise like a happy puppy given a pat on the head. "We all have bad days," he said sympathetically. "It's understandable." Then his face turned more serious. "Logan told me about your voice... if you'd like, I could see about disconnecting whatever it is that gives Villain control over the device in your throat. Then you wouldn't have to live in fear anymore, dreading the day Villain comes calling."

Hero nodded eagerly. "Yes, that would be wonderful of you, if you're willing." It seemed that Logan and him had finally earned her trust, proven their good intentions.

Noah spent several hours examining the advanced device that let Hero breathe and speak, studying it with a critical eye, with little results. "This is some seriously high-end technology," he admitted grimly. "I've never seen anything like it before... I'm not sure where to start to fix it, but I'll do my best."

"Villain was certainly known as one of the brightest and smartest inventors in the city," Hero laughed dryly. "I'm not surprised. But don't sweat it, you've given me a way to walk again -- that's more than enough to satisfy me."

"Still, I wish I could do more."

Hero smiled softly. "...I have a proposal. You gave me a priceless gift, so I will return the favor. I can teach Logan and you how to fight, if you think you can handle it. How to hold a weapon properly and defend yourselves."

Noah and Logan shared a wide-eyed glance. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to get private training lessons from Hero herself, the greatest hero the city had ever known.

"Yes! Absolutely!" Logan blurted excitedly. "It would be nice to know how to win battles, in case we ever find ourselves in a sticky situation."

Hero smirked with a glint in her eyes. "I can't promise it will be easy, and I will push you hard, run you ragged at times... but I'd wager I can make decent fighters out of you both, given time."

And she kept her promise, just like Logan and Noah had. The two young men met up with Hero every day for several weeks, always going home battered and exhausted but with light hearts. They swapped days so that each of them trained individually with her, and Hero had quickly acclimated to her new mobility aid, becoming as agile and quick-footed as she used to be.

Hero had been meticulous and thorough in her initial assessment, testing their natural reflexes and skills and working with it. Almost like she'd done it all before. And one day Logan couldn't help asking as he sparred with her, dancing around the room with a set of blunted wooden blades.

"Hero... have you ever trained someone like this before? These training sessions look so familiar to you, like you've done it a thousand times before."

Hero faltered in her attack, pulling away from where she'd pinned Logan against the wall. Something devastated and anguished flitted across her face that made Logan's stomach twist, and he regretted asking. But she answered regardless.

"...Yes. I had another apprentice, a long time ago. Sidekick. We went on many missions together... until Old Supervillain made his first appearance. The death of First Hero was a tragic loss as well as a huge shock to the whole city. My team was thought to be virtually invincible until then. But Old Supervillain was a new kind of lethal evil we'd never faced before." Hero's eyes grew cloudy and distant, lost in a haunting memory.

"I remember it all so vividly... me and my hero team facing off against Old Supervillain... watching the other heroes fall at his hands one by one... It wasn't a fair fight, even though we greatly outnumbered Old Supervillain. He was just so unexpectedly strong. I remember making a fatal mistake, a misstep on my part, that gave Old Supervillain a clear shot at me. Me and Sidekick were the only ones still alive... and I watched as Sidekick sprung in front of me, taking the blast of power that had been aimed to kill me. I held them as they gurgled blood in my arms. Watched as the life slowly left their panicked eyes as they bled out. And then... I ran, before Old Supervillain could finish me off too." Hero stared at the floor in shame.

"I was a coward, instead of dying with dignity I fled. I found my opportunity for revenge a month later when I faced Old Supervillain on my own in the skyscraper. I knew about the bombs he'd planted, knew his plan for eliminating me. But I made sure he couldn't escape, because I knew that I couldn't win... so I made sure we'd both lose."

Logan's jaw went slack with realization. "So the skyscraper's collapse... you knew it would fall on you?"

Hero nodded sadly. "After failing my whole team, I had no reason left to live anyway. I figured if my death could save the city, it would be worth it." She shrugged, like it was no big deal. "And I've been hiding away ever since. Does that answer your question?"

Logan nodded, too shocked to speak. The rest of the training session passed in complete silence, an awkward quiet stretching between every blow and slash.

Logan was hot and sweaty by the time Hero was finished, and he grabbed his bag to leave, when Hero's voice stopped him.

"And Logan?" A pause. "...I'd rather you not tell anyone about the way Sidekick died. Please, for my sake. They say time heals all wounds... but not that one. Not yet." Logan nodded sympathetically before leaving.

It was three days later that tragedy struck, because of course... good things hardly ever last.

Logan had been chipperly wandering to the alley to meet up with Hero like usual for another training session -- but something was off. He couldn't quite put a finger on it, but he could already feel his awareness sharpening like there was some hidden anger lurking close by.

And when he reached the entrance to Hero's bunker... the covering that usually hid it from sight was stripped away.

"Oh no..." Logan hurried down the stairs to investigate, and stopped short when he entered Hero's hideout.

The whole place was a wreck, like a violent hurricane had come through and tossed everything about. Shredded and ripped papers were strewn everywhere, there were long scorch marks on the walls made by electricity, throwing knives embedded into various objects, and desks were either overturned like shields or blasted to pieces.

It looked like a fierce battle had gone down, and Logan's heart plummeted all the way to his feet with dread and fear. He dropped the bag he'd been holding, staring wide-eyed around in shock... until he heard a low groan.

"Hero?" He called quietly, hopeful, cautiously creeping forward. Broken pieces of metal and wood crunched under his feet as he tracked the sound of labored breathing, following it to an overturned table. He peeked over the edge of it to find -- a body, clothed in all black, laying on its side on the floor, the person's chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. "He-Hero?" His voice came out shaky with fear.

"Don't. Move." Logan instantly froze at the harsh, commanding voice from behind him, ice-cold and deadly. He kept himself perfectly still, not daring to even breathe. Someone else was in Hero's hideout.

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