#implied abuse cw

[asofterutena]

(Perfection doesn’t breathe.)

#a softer world #revolutionary girl utena #shoujo kakumei utena #a softer world remix #rguedit #anthy himemiya #asw 138 #ep: our eternal apocalypse #11 2022 #implied abuse cw

[taarokeshabd]

having 'mommy issues' with a present mom is so weird because like.

i love the idea of having a mom. we never get along. i fucked up because you hurt me. stop being my mom, please. i don't want to hate you. i don't think i hate you. i love you. i'm glad you're alive. leave me alone. i hate you. i'm sorry i messed up. you deserve better than me. i want a better mom. i don't deserve a better mom. i know it isn't your fault. you're just as hurt as i am. please stop. i can't be in the same room as you. i'm glad you're there. it's not the same. i want to leave. this is home. the chaos feelings like home. i want a mom. i'm sorry i tried standing up for myself. you were right. please change your ways. be kinder to me. i should be nicer to you. stop this. don't. please leave. don't go. i want a mom. i'm glad you're here. i wish you were present in my life more. don't get in my life now. i don't need you. i can't do this without you. i'm sorry. please forgive me. i did nothing wrong. it's not your fault either. i want to escape this. i don't want to leave. i'm tied to this burning tree. you lit it on fire. but you've been tied before me.

#pari.txt #mommy issues #eldest daughter #mothers #mothers and daughters #desi tumblr #desiblr #desi tag #desi trauma #desi things #eldest daughter in a desi house #i just trauma dumped here and called it a day #slay #mother #daughter #motherhood #grief #trauma cw #implied abuse cw

[askrainbowbug]

#implied abuse cw #charlastor #(implied) #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel au #updates #hazbin hotel angel dust #angel dust #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor

[captain-astors]

#Someone made a new mutsuki playlist and they get it like no one has before. Whoever you are thank you. #Anyways #I referenced myself for the pose but I refuse to ask anyone to photograph me #so I ended up stacking like six copies of Dracula on top of eachother #I think that influenced the fangs #mutsuki tooru #my art #tokyo ghoul #implied abuse cw #implied abuse tw #ommetaphobia

[fanby-fckry]

It’s not Wednesday, but UH3 brainrot has once again consumed me.

I’m supposed to be catching up on Ace Alastor Week, and instead I’m writing ahead in the Season 1 fic.

Sneak peek below, heed the tags.

Content Warning: self harm*, blood, references to canon-typical violence, implied/referenced child abuse, inconsistent terminology regarding sex and gender**

*Whether or not this is self harm could probably be up for debate, but I, personally, consider it to be a form of self harm. Please put your own health and safety first; read with caution of feel free to keep scrolling. Stay safe, readers.

**Alastor sometimes conflates sex and gender because he just doesn’t think about or care what people have in their pants. He grew up in a time where the two were considered interchangeable; while he knows neither sex nor gender are static/that not everyone matches up with the gender they were assigned and will call a trans person by their chosen name/pronouns, gender them correctly, and treat them exactly like he’d treat anyone else, he still gets the terms a little mixed up from time to time. He wouldn’t gatekeep someone based on their transition status, because the physical state of someone else’s body isn’t his concern unless he’s actively in the process of killing them. And even then, he’s not focused on sex characteristics of any kind.

…

…

…

“And all this time, I thought it was mere population control!” Alastor ranted ino the private connection. He was pacing across his meticulously sound-proofed hotel room while his shadow flew from wall to wall.

“Well,” Lucifer began, but Alastor wasn’t done speaking and didn’t care for being interrupted.

“Ha!” Alastor laughed, threading a hand through his own hair. “Can you blame me?” he asked.

A rhetorical question, but Lucifer gave his best attempt at answering. “It is p-”

“They’ve got no style, no finesse! And barely any skill!” Alastor’s shadow curled its claws into fists, and Alastor removed his hand from his hair to keep himself from pulling it or digging his claws into his scalp as he felt the urge to do the same.

“Year after year, decade after decade, it’s nothing but artless, soulless slaughter!” Alastor laughed again, manic, hysterical, and lacking any and all joy. “Is it any wonder I assumed it was simply a mindless masacre?”

“Alastor-”

“Entertainment…” Alastor dug his claws into the inside of his palm, attempting to ground himself with the pain.

“If killing Sinners for one’s own entertainment is so damned Holy, then why is he in Heaven while I’m down here?” Alastor demanded, static rising in his voice. “Why, one could argue that he’s worse than I am!”

“He’s certainly killed more Sinners than I have by now, considering how long the Exterminations have been in effect.” Hell’s history books were patchy at best, and Lucifer only talked about his – and by extension, Hell’s – past in vague, non-specific terms, often while drunk or sentimental. Or both.

Alastor’s claws began to draw blood. “And from the combination of what Charlie and Lilith and you have all told me, he’s a vulgar, disrespectful chauvinist!”

The pain no longer felt like an anchor. It was fuel on the fire that was the rage burning within him, the wrath he felt at the injustice of it all.

“My mother raised me to be a gentleman,” Alastor said. “Any disrespect I show is based on a woman's actions, not her sex. But Adam expected Lilith to bend to his whims simply on the basis of her gender! He talked down to Charlie, likely on the same logic!”

“And yes, I kill because I enjoy it, but I’m selective with my victims! I enact vengeance on behalf of the weak and vulnerable! In life, I corrected the injustices of a corrupt system, and in death I punish those already Damned by their sins!”

Blood was seeping through Alastor’s knuckles. He pushed his claws deeper, sinking them into the meat of his palms.

“So why…?” There were bloodstains on the carpet. Niffty would be quite upset if she learned that the blood was Alastor’s rather than one of his meals’.

“Why?” Alastor repeated, barely audible above his own feedback. His cheeks were wet. He must have gotten blood on them at some point.

Everything was silent for a moment, save for the static Alastor couldn’t reign in.

Then, Lucifer spoke. “It’s complicated,” he said, quietly.

Alastor made an animalistic sound deep in the back of his throat, something between a growl and a whimper. But he let the Devil speak.

“I don’t know the particulars, but murder and vengeance are both Damnable sins.”

“Then why isn’t he Damned,” Alastor said through gritted teeth. “Why hasn’t Adam Fallen?”

Lucifer sighed. “Nepotism?”

Alastor laughed. “Oh, that’s rich coming from you!”

“What the fuck do you mean by that?” Lucifer asked, his volume increasing. “My Father kicked me out of Heaven for falling in love with Lilith and for daring to dream of a world where humanity wasn’t bound by eternal ignorance.”

“And he gave you a kingdom!” Alastor swung his arms, flinging blood across the room with the sheer force of the movement. “He let you and Lilith elope when he could’ve smited you both! Do you think he’d give the same courtesy to his other angelic children, or do the rumors of you being his favorite son hold true, hm, Lightbringer?”

The radio began to smoke and glow with a faint golden light.

“Get that name out of your fucking mouth, Alastor.”

Alastor ignored him, ignored the projections of his power.

“My father never would’ve shown me such benevolence if I’d disobeyed him the way you did yours.” Alastor moved to inspect the bloodstains on the walls. “And the best thing he ever gave me was a lesson in the inherent cruelty of man.”

#self harm cw #implied abuse cw #fanby’s fuckery #fanby’s fic snippets #fanby: uhverse #fanby: uh3 #fanby: an age of upheaval #not tagging fandoms and shit because i don’t want this breeching containment #uh: alastor #uh: lucifer #uh: radioapple

[jamiesfootball]

omg the "jamie gamifies being nice" description had me HOWLING. and then the gut punch that he still gets sent back to city anyway. :( (also i can see early s3 jamie being like "if i talk to trent that's a nice point bc im being friendly but also a dick point bc itll piss roy off" and trying to do the math in his head to figure if they cancel each other out)

Oh, him going back to City was just the halfway point.

Despite being the captain, Roy tensed. His eyes flicked to Ted, sure that any second the gaffer would tell them off for talking during movie night.

"This is ridiculous," Isaac muttered. In the darkened conference room, his voice carried with all the subtlety of a blinding torch. “Why the fuck ain’t they playing him?”

“You guys,” Sam interrupted. “Twitter is saying that Jamie was originally intended for the starting lineup, but was pulled last minute due to injury.” Roy scoffed louder than he meant to. “What injury?” He was the whiniest person Roy knew- a list that included an actual six-year-old. He would've mentioned in his texts if he was injured. The lads hushed him.

#behold - more from another fic I'm not writing #writing progress #roy kent #jamie tartt #implied abuse cw

[audhd-nightwing]

i want to see wayne and hopper interact

hopper, who knows about steve’s father and the bruises steve hides, who sees the way steve flinches when he raises a hand, who knows that it’s worse when his parents are home than when they’re away. hopper, who went through a lot of the same trauma steve did (thrust into a parental role, fighting monsters- both human and nonhuman- and getting captured & tortured by russians).

and wayne munson, who’s heard a lot of things about richard harrington, how he’s a heartless bastard and an extreme perfectionist. wayne, who knows the signs of abuse (because of eddie’s dad) and recognizes them in the harrington boy his nephew keeps bringing over. wayne, a war veteran who is intimately familiar with ptsd and flashbacks, recognizing those in a 19 year old boy, a kid, who has too many scars and a haunted look in his eyes.

i want these two to meet at some kind of gathering with the kids & co at steve’s house. i want them to sit in a comfortable silence, sipping beer and watching the people around them. i want them to notice steve freeze up at the sound of a car pulling into the driveway, watch the blood drain from his face as he stumbles inside to the front door. i want them to glance at each other and, without a moment of hesitation, silently agree to follow him.

i want richard harrington to open his door and see two men- the chief of police and another man he doesn’t recognize- eyeing him with matching looks of righteous fury, his son trembling behind them.

i want steve to have these two people he considers father figures stand up for him and protect him from the man that tarnished his idea of fatherhood in the first place.

#stranger things #implied abuse cw #steve harrington #jim hopper #wayne munson #steve harringtons dad #hopper stranger things #steve harrington has bad parents #steve harrington has scars #mini fic #steve harrington whump #chief hopper

[apotheoseity]

OC LORE DUMP: SCARLET FEVER

(art credit: @angelsamidraws )

Scarlet Fever is (yet another) character in Superverse! She was previously "employed" at Scelestic, but has since left. Born Cyrus Trottwood to two loving parents, at the age of 6 she was kidnapped by Scelestic while playing a little too far from home with a friend.

While at Scelestic, she was forcibly trained into being the groups personal lackey, someone expendable to do dangerous dirty work and fights, stripped of her name and her agency. Unfortunately, this sort of "training" was.. heavily traumatic, to say the least, especially from such a young age. Thankfully, she was under the care of Betty Miller, also known as Kitten Smiles, a kind-hearted woman working for Scelestic out of circumstance. She took a liking to the young Scarlet, and really only stayed with the villain group in order to keep her safe.

Raised into being the personal weapon of Snake Eyes, Scarlet was often the one made to kidnap people for the group. With her powers, the ability to show people their fears (great or small), it was easy for her to incapacitate unprepared supers and restrain them for "harvesting."

At one point, in late 2020, she was made to do so for one of the most famous heroes in the country, the Golden Guardian ( @pbjpuppy's character, also known as Bailey Goodfellow), and managed to succeed after a scuffle. Bailey, however, wasn't kidnapped to be harvested, but rather for information due to her connections to other famous superheroes, like President Man, the president. Being kept with and under watch of Scarlet, the two managed to bond over being young people in a bad situation (though, at the time, Scarlet hardly considered herself a person), and Scarlet and Betty eventually allowed and aided Bailey in her escape.

Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on who you ask), Bailey wasn't able to stop thinking about Scarlet after her escape, and subsequent faking of her suicide, and went back for her. Scarlet was hesitant, to leave somewhere that (to her knowledge) was the only place she'd ever known, and especially to do that with someone who she was told was the enemy. Urged by Betty, though, Scarlet decided to go with her, and the two moved out into a remote cabin in the woods together.

Eventually, despite their differences, they managed to get closer, falling in love. Bailey, as well, helped Scarlet adjust to being a "normal" person, with hobbies and interests, rather than just a weapon. A few years out, they're trying to reintegrate back into society together, with fake identities.

#doin a talk #oc: scarlet #superverse #implied abuse cw #sui ment

[kitsch-s]

my smile is a snarl

my hands are made to hurt,

claws

i am broken.

i am selfish.

i am cruel.

my blood is iron

forged in violence

raised in apathy

a kicked dog taught

to growl

to bite

hackles raised

teeth bared

chanting

i used to be worse

i used to be worse

i used to be worse

i could be better

if only you let me

-mutt

#kitschpoems #poetry #dog poetry #implied abuse #implied abuse cw #it’s about the dog metaphors

[conduitandconjurer]

🙌 oh why not. might have to get creative, though.

Send 🙌 to strangle my muse (no longer accepting)!

It's Reginald's clipped, nasal voice in his head.

The first line of defense upon attempted strangulation is to blind your opponent!

Klaus isn't exactly the type of person known for fighting back against adversity: not with the more conventionally recognized forms of battle. But it's even harder to fight off this spindly, bruised child who will never know the exhilaration of living in a safe skin, the way Klaus, after years of the hard-to-recognize type of fighting, has.

He can't fight a protege who, if time for Klaus were linear, would have been his mentor.

He can't push his goddamned fingers into BJ's sad scared eyes and scoop them from their sockets. Like, fuck training, Jesus. The kid's crying, right now, while assailing him.

Get with the program, Number Four!

Shut up, dad. Remember your "gift" to me: it's not like it'll be permanent.

"Beej...!"

His own voice is haggard. Dissociation tries to bleed into the corners of his thoughts, makes him wonder, not for the first time, lately, why so many people feel entitled to lay their hands on some part of his body.

"Beej--Tangy--hk!...Dream, what'd I do? Stop...!"

He smacks the young prostitute's cheeks, imploring gently, and then insistently, and then a little savagely.

Klaus begins to black out; his eyes glow a veil-piercing teal and he is out. Bright light, the same hue, his ribcage its lantern, and then an explosion. The force throws BJ back a good six, seven feet.

Klaus collapses awkwardly on his face. He sits up and gawks through a mop of curls.

"The fuck--? Did I just go into the....fricken....Avatar State, or somethin'?"

Green eyes shift toward the waif's face. Anger and grief sink in, rapidly clouding over the comical shock.

'Why'd you hurt me, man? Whatever you needed, you coulda just asked! Like, damn! I'm super fuckin' chill, okay?! "

#ofyorkshire #ic #tangerine dream (BJ) #crossover: Red Riding Trilogy #implied abuse cw #strangulation cw #assault cw

[phisaya]

She can hear it now.

What were you thinking? Why would you willingly stay with him? Why did you keep the baby? You should have left sooner. You shouldn't have signed a contract with him at all. He's never going to love you the way you love him.

If she tells anyone about this, they'll say everything short of calling her stupid and saying that it's her fault for getting herself into this mess. As long as she's in the hotel, she's safe, but what about after she leaves?

Valentino can't follow her to Envy, but his hellborn minions can.

She took everything valuable from the apartment, but most of hers and Waverly's clothes are still there. She wants to return and pack up the rest of her things, but Valentino wouldn't take a moving truck lying down.

Haha, lying down in front of a truck. I'm more concerned for the driver.

Everything about this is a huge pain in the ass.

#(ic) #(lost and found princess) #implied abuse cw

[novastrae]

for all that you have, you don't seem to be happy. the voice is confused, like a child learning what grief is for the first time. what for do you grieve? is there something that would bring such grief peace? or perhaps... no. not peace. contentment?

What do you grieve?

It's a question that plagues your mind. Memories erode with the centuries, and yet... the things you grieve plague your mind. Hands. Whispers. Looks.

You can feel it all, as if it all happened yesterday.

Do you grieve your brother, who sought to shield you from the horrors of the world, only to unintentionally thrust the horrors upon you by letting you take his place as retainer?

Or perhaps you grieve for a mother you never quite knew, the woman she was before you and your brother came into the picture?

Or perhaps -

" I grieve for my childhood, " You stated matter-of-factly. " I grieve for the things that ripped my childhood away from me, I grieve for the fact I was forced to be an adult from a young age, I grieve for me. " A pause.

" I don't know. I don't know if I'll ever find peace or contentment from the things that haunt me. "

#x. i could shut you down! / in. #x. it's your future it's your choice. / study. #implied abuse cw #SMILES CUTELY. PLAGUE UPON THE DASH.

[flownintothesun]

𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

repost. don't reblog. bold what applies. italicize what sometimes applies.

scraped knees,  silent tears in a locked room,  slamming doors,  pervasive loneliness,  a dog barking,  rain on a metal roof,  flinching at movement,  the creak of an old house,  forced laughter,  wandering in the dark woods,  wondering how you made it through,  sudden loss, trying to make sense of the noise, hiding what you love to protect it,  trying to explain but your words falter,  invaded privacy,  confusion at the pain,  running barefoot in the grass,  wondering what you did wrong and coming up with nothing,  realizing you aren’t a priority,   grass stains on white clothing,  trying to earn love you will never have,  being threatened over the smallest mistake,  secrets you are warned not to share,  the feeling of never being good enough,  the hope things might someday get better,  grief that aches in your bones,  childish dares and pranks,  the sense that your body isn’t yours,  shame and guilt that aren’t yours to carry,  sledding down a frozen hill,  absentmindedly following snakes through the grass,  punching a tree until your knuckles bleed,  tears over every dead creature you find,  searching out small places you can hide… just in case,  climbing the tallest tree so they can’t touch you,  the feeling of something tainted under your skin,  a curious child told to stop asking,  floral dresses,  body tensing at approaching footsteps,  anger with nowhere to go, brief escapes from the chaos,  the purr of a contented cat,  taking the blame to keep the peace,  being told you’re too sensitive,  the creaking springs of a trampoline on a sunny day

scraped knees,  silent tears in a locked room,  slamming doors,  pervasive loneliness,  a dog barking,  rain on a metal roof,  flinching at movement,  the creak of an old house,  forced laughter,  wandering in the dark woods,  wondering how you made it through,  sudden loss, trying to make sense of the noise, hiding what you love to protect it,  trying to explain but your words falter,  invaded privacy,  confusion at the pain,  running barefoot in the grass,  wondering what you did wrong and coming up with nothing,  realizing you aren’t a priority,   grass stains on white clothing,  trying to earn love you will never have,  being threatened over the smallest mistake,  secrets you are warned not to share,  the feeling of never being good enough,  the hope things might someday get better,  grief that aches in your bones,  childish dares and pranks,  the sense that your body isn’t yours,  shame and guilt that aren’t yours to carry,  sledding down a frozen hill,  absentmindedly following snakes through the grass,  punching a tree until your knuckles bleed,  tears over every dead creature you find,  searching out small places you can hide… just in case,  climbing the tallest tree so they can’t touch you,  the feeling of something tainted under your skin,  a curious child told to stop asking,  floral dresses,  body tensing at approaching footsteps,  anger with nowhere to go, brief escapes from the chaos,  the purr of a contented cat,  taking the blame to keep the peace,  being told you’re too sensitive,  the creaking springs of a trampoline on a sunny day

scraped knees,  silent tears in a locked room,  slamming doors,  pervasive loneliness,  a dog barking,  rain on a metal roof,  flinching at movement,  the creak of an old house,  forced laughter,  wandering in the dark woods,  wondering how you made it through,  sudden loss, trying to make sense of the noise, hiding what you love to protect it,  trying to explain but your words falter,  invaded privacy,  confusion at the pain,  running barefoot in the grass,  wondering what you did wrong and coming up with nothing,  realizing you aren’t a priority,   grass stains on white clothing,  trying to earn love you will never have,  being threatened over the smallest mistake,  secrets you are warned not to share,  the feeling of never being good enough,  the hope things might someday get better,  grief that aches in your bones,  childish dares and pranks,  the sense that your body isn’t yours,  shame and guilt that aren’t yours to carry,  sledding down a frozen hill,  absentmindedly following snakes through the grass,  punching a tree until your knuckles bleed,  tears over every dead creature you find,  searching out small places you can hide… just in case,  climbing the tallest tree so they can’t touch you,  the feeling of something tainted under your skin,  a curious child told to stop asking,  floral dresses,  body tensing at approaching footsteps,  anger with nowhere to go, brief escapes from the chaos,  the purr of a contented cat,  taking the blame to keep the peace,  being told you’re too sensitive,  the creaking springs of a trampoline on a sunny day

scraped knees,  silent tears in a locked room,  slamming doors,  pervasive loneliness,  a dog barking,  rain on a metal roof,  flinching at movement,  the creak of an old house,  forced laughter,  wandering in the dark woods,  wondering how you made it through,  sudden loss, trying to make sense of the noise, hiding what you love to protect it,  trying to explain but your words falter,  invaded privacy,  confusion at the pain,  running barefoot in the grass,  wondering what you did wrong and coming up with nothing,  realizing you aren’t a priority,   grass stains on white clothing,  trying to earn love you will never have,  being threatened over the smallest mistake,  secrets you are warned not to share,  the feeling of never being good enough,  the hope things might someday get better,  grief that aches in your bones,  childish dares and pranks,  the sense that your body isn’t yours,  shame and guilt that aren’t yours to carry,  sledding down a frozen hill,  absentmindedly following snakes through the grass,  punching a tree until your knuckles bleed,  tears over every dead creature you find,  searching out small places you can hide… just in case,  climbing the tallest tree so they can’t touch you,  the feeling of something tainted under your skin,  a curious child told to stop asking,  floral dresses,  body tensing at approaching footsteps,  anger with nowhere to go, brief escapes from the chaos,  the purr of a contented cat,  taking the blame to keep the peace,  being told you’re too sensitive,  the creaking springs of a trampoline on a sunny day

scraped knees,  silent tears in a locked room,  slamming doors,  pervasive loneliness,  a dog barking,  rain on a metal roof,  flinching at movement,  the creak of an old house,  forced laughter,  wandering in the dark woods,  wondering how you made it through,  sudden loss, trying to make sense of the noise, hiding what you love to protect it,  trying to explain but your words falter,  invaded privacy,  confusion at the pain,  running barefoot in the grass,  wondering what you did wrong and coming up with nothing,  realizing you aren’t a priority,   grass stains on white clothing,  trying to earn love you will never have,  being threatened over the smallest mistake,  secrets you are warned not to share,  the feeling of never being good enough,  the hope things might someday get better,  grief that aches in your bones,  childish dares and pranks,  the sense that your body isn’t yours,  shame and guilt that aren’t yours to carry,  sledding down a frozen hill,  absentmindedly following snakes through the grass,  punching a tree until your knuckles bleed,  tears over every dead creature you find,  searching out small places you can hide… just in case,  climbing the tallest tree so they can’t touch you,  the feeling of something tainted under your skin,  a curious child told to stop asking,  floral dresses,  body tensing at approaching footsteps,  anger with nowhere to go, brief escapes from the chaos,  the purr of a contented cat,  taking the blame to keep the peace,  being told you’re too sensitive,  the creaking springs of a trampoline on a sunny day

tagged by: @luckhissoul (thank you! ♡) tagging: anyone who hasn't done it! (tag me so i can see?)

#➤ 𝚅𝙸. 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚂 ┊ francis devereaux. #➤ 𝟶. 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙵𝙾𝙾𝙻 ┊ westley mccarthy. #➤ 𝚇𝚅𝙸. 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚃𝙾𝚆𝙴𝚁 ┊ marin gunderson. #➤ 𝙸. 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙼𝙰𝙶𝙸𝙲𝙸𝙰𝙽 ┊ lucienne agosti. #➤ 𝚇𝚇. 𝙹𝚄𝙳𝙶𝙴𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃 ┊ mariano verratti. #⋆ ⚓︎ ⋆ ── 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘 ┊ 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑖'𝑣𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑑 𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑓𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑠𝑦. #⋆ ⚓︎ ⋆ ── 𝐃𝐀𝐒𝐇 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 ┊ 𝑎 𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑠𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡-𝑖𝑓𝑠. #child abuse mention cw #abuse mention cw #implied abuse cw #long post cw

[normalhorsez]

gggruh

i wish i knew how it felt to live andnnot always feel a seesaw shift away from danger. i wish i could stkp having my hackles raised 24/7.

i wish i didnt always feel so tense

i want to know what it is to truly relax and be safe

#uh . #idk how to cw this. ig uh #implied abuse cw

[carbonateddelusion]

∆ Eddie and Jack

If a perfect clone of yourself appeared, what would your first instinct be in terms of what to do? Furthermore, what would you assume the clone is there to do?

Finally, If you both had a clone, and all four of you were in the same room, what do you think would be most likely to happen? Assume this room is a kitchen. With knives. And food. But mainly knives.

Eddie combed a hand through his graying hair. "Perfect clone... Including memories? Because if it's solely a genetic clone, he could be an entirely different person due to the experiences that shaped his personality. I.. would probably want to talk to him in either case, though. Document his responses. For posterity."

With a second of thought, he continued, "Is this... one of those 'kill your evil self' questions? Because... as much as I, um... have ISSUES with myself... He must have a soul, right? A- But even if he didn't, that's another person. You know? I couldn't kill another me. He probably has a family who loves him and people who will miss him. I can't deprive others of his existence."

---

"Clone?" Chuck scoffed, hands flying every which way as he performed tricks with his foldable knife. "What is this, some... science fiction crap? Ain't no clones. But, I mean, if there WAS another me, I'd have't kill 'im. There ain't enough room for TWO mes. And, well, if there were four'a us, I'd just have't'a kill the extras. Have some fun with it. Take a few pictures. Ain't that right, Eddie?"

His Edgar, sitting a few paces behind and beside him, hummed thoughtfully. The more he thought, the more distressed he appeared to become. He began furiously scratching at the scar over his throat.

Jack rolled his eyes. The knife landed firmly in his main hand. In a flash, it flew through the air and lodged itself in the wall beside Edgar, pinning a clump of his hair. "What did I say about doin' that? 'S gonna get infected, y'fuckin' idiot."

He chirped an apology, visibly cowering from the other man.

Heaving a sigh, he thought aloud, "God knows what you'd do without me... 'S like y'have no survival skills at all."

#oc ramblings #my writings #anonymous #oc: edgar #oc: jack #in the 80s #in order of appearance: #elijah's edgar #jack in the 80s #jack's edgar #alas. lovebirds. #ask to tag #< i generally dont tag stuff for them bc you can expect that stuff when i add the lovebirds tag #implied abuse cw #writing prompt asks

[lcngdays]

@fangmother from [ here ]

Idris is a picture of nerves, holding his cane so tightly his knuckles have gone white. He by no means wants to leave this poor woman, but the idea of being home late terrified him almost beyond reason. Draco had his issues aplenty when he was home on time, being late was just out of the question.

Still, this was a small town that he lived in. Small enough that there weren't taxi's and uber's didn't reach their service out so far, so it wasn't as if Idris could simply call her a car to take her where she was trying to go.

But when Idris sees the bruise, all resolve to gently tell her he really really couldn't help leaves him at once. He looks at her in a new light, himself sporting his own bruises, and he relents.

"no, no..." He says softly, "i... i can help, it's no trouble. where was it you were looking to go again...?"

#fangmother #;idris threads #YIPPEE FOR EXCORSISMS!!!! #implied abuse cw #ask to tag