#cw:rape

[look-i-love-u]

Galladrabbles - Crystals

This week's @galladrabbles is inpsired by @creepkinginc's song prompt: "Crystals" by Monsters and Men.

It's part of my drabble series which you can read: HERE

CW: mentions of violence and rape

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“It’s a Southside story, Red…Just remember, it brought me here. And I’m okay.”

Ian nods. Barely dares to breathe.

“Right. Fuck. My homophobic asshole dad caught me. With a guy. Fucker jumped me. Beat me. Had me ridden by… someone. She called 991 before she left. The dispatcher stayed on the line with me…” 

Ian closes his eyes. Holds Mickey’s hand. He feels a squeeze. 

“My brothers… made Dad pay. My worst day…was a new beginning.” Mickey smiles. It’s sad. But it’s there. “Had to make it count…”

“And you did.” Ian says. Caresses Mickey’s inked letters.  “And I did…yeah.”

[lokiinmediasideblog]

I wasn't sure what was up in an earlier scene of Ep1, I just found some foreplayish sexy scene weird and cringe because this guy is about to get laid by some lady in weird sexy huntress shit and was reciting some weird shitty poetry to her (I at first thought the chick was Skadi bc arrows ) but it has been revealed that guy is this show's Bragi, and he can bend mortal's will through poetry, and in light of that, this scene is disturbing.

But it's just treated as some advantageous way to pick up girls as far as I've watched.

[lucy-shining-star]

Damn it I clicked on link of some review of the Demeter movie on twitter seeing that reviewer read the book and it's so terrible interpretation of the book and ignoring so many things.

Like the fact that Dracula hypnotizes people. And the fact that 'beautuiful woman' was killed by 'group of men' cause she was a vampire then. Or the fact that 'women luring children to their doom' is a vampire. And funnily, doesn't mention that it's the same woman gho got stabbed and that she got stabbed after that luring. And 'husband abandons wife to her rapist' he was asleep and probably from hypnosis. This is all supposed to prove point 'The monstrous nature of Dracula tends to obscure the fact of his now monstrous humanity, and especially the way in which the novel itself uses him as a conduit to reveal the monstrosity of humanity. Dracula’s breaking of natural and religious laws leads men and women to become monsters, as defined by Victorian society' .

There is also mention of ' men consume flies and spiders' which is like. Not caused by Dracula?

'Later, the novel remarks that Dracula is both nauseating and attractive, that there is something inherently wrong with him, yet others are drawn to him. His is the charm of death—he’s repellant but attractive, disgusting yet seductive' he is hypnotizing people

'Dracula may appear odd but he’s far from monstrous, and his behavior, while strange in the 19th Century, is courtly and polite' while it does have point about looks compared in book and movie...THIS MOVIE IS BASED ON CAPTAIN'S LOG HE WASN'T COURTLY AND POLITE AT ALL OR EVEN PRETENDING THIS ISN'T JONATHAN'S STAY IN CASTLE

This review is so obssesed with 'Humans are monsters' I swear

Btw if someone wants to read whole thing:

[canoporn]

Alright~

I'm Aubrey, I'm a trans women 24 She/Her

I'm a submissive bottom, dw I do nurture my sadistic side so I can fall in love with other sub bottoms, because I love, love.

I like being hurt

Here are the ground rules-

18+ ONLY, no minors/ageless blogs, no terfs, no chasers, if you wanna chase me you gotta be wiley coyote or a lesbian/trans (sorry, cis people don't get it, and if youre cis and u have a chance i know you irl and am currently trying to flirt with you)

If I see you being a dickhead in my notifications I reserve the right to block you

~What you can expect to see on this blog

T4T, Monsterfucking, Hypno, Piss, CNC, snuff (and ok yes vore, I've succumbed eat me about it)

~I mainly use this blog to lurk and maybe post my own nudes occasionally

My Hard no's are scat, misgendering, bigotry kinks and dd/lg

As a warning, I've been on tumblr for 10 yrs now, I never learned how to tag and so I don't, I will tag the hard-core(cw:rape, cw:cnc & cw:snuff)tags based on my spoons and I'll tag my photos as #mypics mainly because I'm uploading those, but beware

~If you wanna dm me feel free but use common sense, imagine you started talking to me in line at Costco because the pins on my bag are funny and my tits are banging.

[u2624]

cw:rape you guys wont believe what my big sis is doing to me rn >.<

[shouldprobablybereading]

As much as I do not want to see any vinxelend sex scenes (married times when they are both adults) I do think there is a missed opportunity in exploring how uncomfortable that would be in regards to intimacy (and why I actually find it fully realistic that they didn’t do it until after getting married and making clear that they fully trust each other)

Vin spent her entire youth avoiding getting raped, especially by noblemen like elend. Elend on the other hand is the only cosmere protagonist I can think off who has sexual trauma, from an event where he wasn’t even the victim (straff making his literal child rape a woman who he then had murdered is one of those plot points that get increasingly disturbing the more you think about it)

[whispersosoftly]

I have been thinking for days about this but like episodes 10 and 11 of Trigun Stampede-- specifically relating to the twins-- is such a fantastic representation of both rape and familial abuse.

Vash is an unwilling participant in Knives' goal to make many independents, and while the individual plants have no discernable will of their own, Vash does. Vash is being utilized as the conduit for Knives to impregnate hundreds of plants, all without Vash's consent. In lieu of the actual hosts being capable of giving or rescinding that consent, it falls to Vash, and Knives happily and willfully removes Vash's ability to say no. He strips Vash down to his components and uses only that what benefits him most.

And worse than that is how he attempts to usurp Rem, the most important memory in Vash's life. He doesn't only attempt to remove the memory, he seeks to corrupt it and to push this idea that no, actually, it was him. He'd always been there for Vash. He'd always been the one Vash turned to.

There's this insidiousness to some types of abuse. The kinds that turn your perception in a circle like a cartoon, uncertain of your direction and suddenly so very afraid of moving forward. That insidiousness is so often met with "is this really abuse?"

And I think that Knives and Vash hit a specific type of abuse that is familiar to me. Another post I saw compared it to being a transman, and I agree. You become both too coarse and far too soft, in the eyes of the abuser. You become unacceptable except in the manner by which they have decided you can be loved. You become the component parts, and your use and faculty is determined only by what the abuser wants of you.

[rafawriter]

The difference between a Hero and a Villain, is that the Hero faces their fears and works through them. A Villain externalizes their fears and spreads misery.

[mermaids-ate-my-dinner]

I have been thinking about Julia Wicker a lot. 

She was betrayed, let down by her friends, denied what she deserved, punished for working her ass off and having trust in people. She not only got raped but kept getting tormented by her rapist. 

She had to live through the trope that being a rape survivor makes you stronger and ultimately makes you who you are. She got her powers from her rapist. Sure, it was a tad more complicated than this. Well, was it really? 

Julia deserved none of this. The one thing she did deserve was to fucking shoot Reynard.

[just-folie-a-deux-it]

I mean...not really???? Please torture and kill every single rapist?????????????

[backofftubby]

Is that really so? How can GBH (with an intent) have a worse punishment than a rape?

[bloodydamnit]

1. I was sexually abused by a sibling when I was a child, not that you need to have been to have an opinion on this discourse. Nora’s books were triggering for me and guess what she never tagged the sexual and physical abuse or the self harm. No one is giving her shit. But I know what I can handle and I was at a place where I could read it maturely when I read the books. I had the choice of not reading it as well. The people who’ve written incest have at least have had the decency to tag it

Thank you so much for sharing this. I think this is so incredibly important and you are unbelievably strong and I agree with you 110%. I dont want to speak too much on this because you’ve said things so beautifully and I dont want to hinder your message. 

Thank you again and I appreciate you and I hope you are doing well. ♥

[importantchildgardener]

Chapter 1 - Of before my mother.

I don't know all of the details, so I can't tell the whole story. But I know enough of the story to know it is a horrifying one.

Back then, it was common for underage girls to work at rich people's homes, it was probably back in 1950 or 1960, I don't know much about uruguay back then, but this story starts with my grandma, my biological grandma, she was 13 at the time and she worked in this man's house, V; I don't know much about V, I never knew and I Doubt I'll ever will.

She was raped by V, she got pregnant. V was a man of money, he had to maintain some appearances so he went on and tried aborting my mother. My mother says they tried with mercury injections or something like that, five injections, somehow she was born anyways, a healthy child, this was a big problem for V. And so, enter my granfather, my adoptive grandfather, i'm pretty sure he was in the military but I'm just assuming, I don't know much about his past besides the fact that he used to live in the pampa.

My grandfather made some kind of deal with V, and he and my grandmother adopted my mother, again I'm unsure about the details, but from what my mother did tell me, they were planning (and raising) her to be some sort of maid for them. I don't know much about how my mother's childhood was, but I remember I did found some 'cards' maybe a diary from when my mother was very young. The cards she had wrotten were very sad, she was undobutly depressed back then. I know she at some point enjoyed art, drawing, I don't know what ever happened to that or if that was ever a dream of her, to produce art. Regardless, she ended up studying spanish language to become a spanish professor. She is a goth, and she enjoys reading.

At some point in her life, whilst stduying back in the capital she met my father, G, it is probable that he frequented the church or was christian or something like that, because I Remember my mother telling me she used to go to the church to meet new people, times were different.

Eventually she became pregnant of me, she was 25 years old at the time. She had a terrible time, she was anxious and just not happy about it, she had me anyways, apparently the first thing my grandma said when I was born was 'look, Diego(my grandpa), he's very white'. My grandma was quite racist, but regardless, this leads me to believe my grandparents never met my father, or maybe my father was dark skinned, who knows.

So, my mother had to move back with her parents at the small town, and she had to change her plans, get an actual job two cities over and barely be home, raising a baby in a house of two parents that didnt like her. One of my earliest memories is to be squeezed under my mothers thighs so I woulnd't make a fuss whilst she read some book, I would be in my room, she would sit in the bed, read something and just put both legs over my back, it was funny to me, I couldn't lift her legs and that was like playing for me. I have only three memories from that age, that time, the time where we went to the park at night and I played on the park toys and a time when I was helping my mom cook ramen or something like that.

I was actually happy, when I was that young, I didn't even realize I had problems.

[multimusesblog]

Same thing with how Medusa was a r*pe victim and Arachne literally did nothing but be better at weaving than the goddess of it.

Greek myths are filled with people that didn't deserve it becoming monsters and then getting treated as such.

The minotaur was a prince.

[kendraaleighb]

On Believing Sexual Assault Victims

I don’t feel safe writing this thing on Facebook, so I’m dumping my thoughts here on tumblr which isn’t exactly safer, but the people I fear would react poorly on FB are not here so it’s a better place for me to say stuff sometimes.

Anyways.

I’ve got a couple of stories to tell about some people who have been affected by sexual assault and sexual harassment and how people handled it.

CONTENT WARNING: SEXUAL HARASSMENT AND SEXUAL ASSAULT INCIDENTS DESCRIBED IN DETAIL WITH MENTIONS OF ATTEMPTED SUICIDE BELOW THE READ MORE SECTION. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

Here goes.

Story 1: Setting is Hobby Lobby, in the frame shop. 2017. I had worked at a different location for 3 1/2 years and moved stores because I moved to a different city to attend university. I had been working at this new store for about 6 months when an employee was transferred into the frame shop to cross-train more employees in framing, but it ended up being his permanent department. I had never spoken to him until he was in my department, but the moment he was transferred in, he began to make comments to me, little snide corrections on my framing skills (even though I had been in the custom framing department for nearly 2 years at this point and was clearly very capable of doing my job since I had been assistant department head at my previous store location) and I often caught him watching me as I worked. 

This made me uncomfortable and led to a hostile work environment because I consider myself to be an upfront person and I called him out on the behavior which ranged some days to arguments about whether he was in charge of “giving me permission” to leave for my lunch at my assigned time or the consistent staring as I bent over a table top to place a mat in a frame correctly. I had frequently made it clear to my direct supervisor, who then would pass it along to my store manager. Time and time again the store manager would brush off my complaints by saying “Oh, I thought you guys were flirting, not arguing.”

The final straw came in May 2017. I had been hard at work on putting together a large (60″x60″) shadow box for a pair of antique leather chaps from the early 1900′s. It had taken weeks to get the supplies in and another week for me to attach the chaps to the backboard so they would stand up in the shadowbox and not fall and lean against the glass. It had been taking so long that I finally couldn’t stand in one place any longer and grabbed a chair from the break room to sit in while I worked on the piece. At one point, I stood up to check my work from a different angle when my coworker passed by and proceeded to make a comment. 

“Your period blood is on the chair.”

“Excuse me?” 

“You must have bled through your pants. Look,” 

He pointed to a blotch of dried bright red paint on the chair. Clearly, not blood. I explained this to him and he simply shrugged his shoulders and carried on with his work. But it made me uncomfortable and embarrassed. My body and the way it functions are not subjects I want to talk about with my coworker.

I brought up the comments he made to my supervisor, who again brought them to my store manager. This time, he said he would take steps to reprimand my coworker. But, he warned that he would have to mention who had reported his behavior and that could lead to even more aggressive behavior towards me. I asked that he not mention me as to keep my privacy. My store manager said there was no way around it. He would have to inform him of what exactly he had done to receive the write-up. My store manager said the only way he could keep my privacy is if he didn’t write him up.

So, because I feared retaliation from my harasser, I didn’t report him. A month later, I quit because I no longer felt safe in my workplace.

I consider myself lucky. I was able to get out and away from my harasser and now those memories are unpleasant, but easy enough to avoid and forget about.

Story 2. Setting: My apartment. 2011. 

A new semester had started and I have new roommates at the dorms. My new roommate is quiet and hasn’t said more than 6 words to me since she moved in, but I don’t think anything of it. I don’t know if this is unusual for her or not, so I let her be. After 2 weeks of living together, I come home on a Sunday night to police cars and an ambulance outside my apartment. I wonder if my roommates have any idea what’s going on, so I go inside to find-oh, the cops are at my apartment. 

My quiet roommate is sitting on the couch with a campus police officer next to her while the paramedics check her vitals. My roommate keeps insisting that she’s fine, but clearly she is not. The paramedic says they should take my roommate to the ER anyways because she ingested a large amount of medication. She frets that she’ll have no way to get home after going to the ER with them, so I tell her I will go with her and give her a ride home. 

We go to the hospital, the cops tell me to wait in the waiting room and they’ll tell me when I can go back to see my roommate. After a couple hours I’m finally able to track down the police officer who was sitting with my roommate when I came into the apartment and she gives me the story of what exactly happened earlier that night when I wasn’t home. My roommate had taken large dosages of cold and sleep medicine in order to end her life. The police had only found her because she had called a relative to say goodbye and said relative called the police.

I couldn’t fathom it. I couldn’t understand why someone would want to end their life. I had no idea what could drive someone to that place.

It wasn’t until I was able to get my roommate home from the hospital that I could get the full story. I couldn’t understand, but I wanted to. I waited while she found the words to describe what had happened to her the first week of the summer break, how she had gone to a party with her boyfriend, gotten drunk, and ended up being raped by an acquaintance of her boyfriend. She told me about how she had asked him for a ride home because her boyfriend had left earlier and she knew she was too drunk to drive. I listened to her while she described what happened in minute detail, down to the taste of the dirty sock he shoved in her mouth to stop her from screaming, how her seat belt was choking her while it happened. She told me about how he had sworn if she ever told anyone what happened, he would kill her. And how he dropped her off at home after the incident like nothing had just happened in the parking lot two blocks from her parent’s house. I held her as she fell apart and relived that night. We cried together and I kept saying “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve this. It’s not your fault.”  Because I had no idea what else do say. She had never told anyone, not even the doctors or the police what had happened. She didn’t tell her parents, her boyfriend, or even her close friends from home.

She didn’t have any “proof.” Any bruises or marks physically left on her body had disappeared by that point. She didn’t get a rape kit done, so any DNA proof had long been washed off. But the mental scars? You better believe they were there.

We talked about what to do next. I encouraged her to go to the police. See a counselor, do something. Surely someone who had experiences with others dealing with this would know what to do. She decided a few days later she needed to be home that semester to get the help she needed. She moved out by the end of that week.

I listened to her. I believed her. Anyone who had listened to her tell her story should have believed her.

But not everyone did. 

Next time I saw her, she told me about what she had done at home. She told me her boyfriend had broken up with her because of it. He said his friend could never have done something like that and she shouldn’t be able to remember something in such detail if she were drunk. He insisted that she was lying.

She went to the police with her experience but because she didn’t get a rape kit done, there was no physical proof to link him to the crime. Even if they did believe her, there wasn’t enough to prosecute on.

I don’t know if her rapist was ever brought to justice. I don’t know if she gets a good nights sleep these days.

I got lucky. I don’t think she did. Neither of us got justice. I came to peace with that. I don’t know if she can, and I don’t blame her if she can’t.

Believe victims. Listen to victims. We have to be better than this.

[zadabug98]

This is a wonderful analogy because this actually happened to me. DM was like "hey, I'm making a campaign but the first guy to join rolled up a Chaotic Evil Rogue, is that cool?" and I, foolishly thinking these college dudes could be trusted to have Responsible Chaotic Evil shenanigans, agreed. Up until that same guy had his character rape another character that had "fainted" because the person playing them couldn't make it to the session. I was like "what the actual fuck" while the DM was like "yeah, okay, roll to see if she's pregnant now I guess" and I never went back.

just some thoughts but “fiction affects reality” and “fiction isn’t reality” are ideas that really really can and should coexist