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#verbal abuse cw
annie-of-the-arts · 22 days
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[begin id: a comic of the slimecicle bg3 gang, done in a simple, sketchy style with the sketch layer still visible. it goes as follows:
Xiv looks up and is shown from the side. They're saying "(caps) aaah (end caps) you guys it'll be fine, don't even worry about iit! completely fine with doing this by myself!!" They turn around and continue with "(caps) Plus! (end caps) It's like my papa always said!! It zooms out to Xiv holding their hands together, eyes shut as they say " "Do it yourself, you asking for help makes you look like a pathetic weakling, and you'll never be as powerful as papa!!" and if i still bothered him he'd usually-" Before being cut off by simplified doodles of Tal and Klip saying, in all caps "Xiv what." Rai is standing with a pursed lip between the two of them, equally shocked.
It cuts to Tal, Rai, and Klip in that order all with varying levels of concern on their face. Tal, with an alarmed smile, says "uh, xiv. buddy. not to alarm you but that isnt. good behavior. my mom the best women i know would never say that to me." Rai, a bit calmer but still suprised, says "yeah uh i never. really knew my own parents but thats? kinda really bad? like your dad seems real mean." Klip, tilting his head down a bit, says "Xiv, that's verbal abuse and your dad deserves to be deep fried in oil." [Additionally, on the sketch layer, you can see that there's handwritten text that reads "nat 20s all across the board."
Xiv pauses, completely suprised by the genuine responses of concern from their friends. They then begin shaking, tears in their eyes as they say "Ah. Uh. Well. Can I get a hug." and Tal responds "yeah cmere." /end description]
why do all of my xiv sketches end up with the most evil angst i could possibly do. anyway xiv getting support from their friends please and thank you
[reblogs > likes | if you like and don't reblog i will curse your bloodline. your bloodline will be cursed!! curses like step on lego]
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skrittkicking · 1 month
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oc introduction: iovitus rainbreak
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TLDR: iovitus rainbreak is a 28 year old ex-blood legion soldier turned gladium following a traumatic event that left them without a warband and resulted in their expulsion from the legions. nowadays, they live with their older, also ex-blood cousin – gratta rainsunder, played by @rytlockdripstone – and are trying their best to move on from their past, but really, they’re just ignoring it and calling it an improvement
content warning: death, verbal abuse, bullying, ableism, drug use, mild torture, suicidal ideation
word count: 3049
born to two blood legion charr in a futile attempt to fix their failing relationship, iovitus was the second cub of lia windwalker (dame) and silas firekeep (sire). they had an older sister, eudocia, who died in infancy due to an unknown genetic illness. they were healthy for their early life and were sent to the fahrar when they came of age – things would quickly turn there, however, as a young iovitus soon fell into an intense illness – the same genetic one that had taken their sister, years before. it seemed to have sat dormant for a while, but the unfamiliar environment of the fahrar sprung it on. during their time spent in the hospital, iovitus would be visited by their mother whenever possible, though her visits were far and few between. she just wanted to see to it that her only remaining cub would survive – silas had been killed just a few months prior in a skirmish, so there would be no third chance. iovitus would survive this, but it left them permanently immunocompromised and threw off their hormonal balance, rendering them much smaller and scrawnier than their peers, and the young charr would never quite grow out of it. 
once strong enough to get back into the fahrar, iovitus had fallen quite behind their peers and had to work hard to catch up, all the while enduring relentless bullying for their comparatively scraggly stature and somewhat delayed social skills. to cope with this, iovitus eagerly seeks to prove themselves to their peers, taking on more and more dangerous dares and doing incredibly stupid things that a cub of their age should not be doing. in this time, though, they do make one true friend. he’s a year their senior, but the two grow very close, though doesn’t do much to protect them from the bullying at the hands of the cubs. in spite of this, however, iovitus continues to seek out validation from people who don’t have their best interest in mind, and this most certainly comes back to bite them in the ass. at one point around the age of six or seven, iovitus and a few other cubs sneak out of the fahrar’s grounds and explore the surrounding area; sometime during this, iovitus is either pushed into or falls into (they can’t really remember which) a ventilation shaft and breaks their right leg at the ankle. ouch! due to the nature of the breakage, it’s determined that the best course of action is amputation below the knee, so, goodbye leg. 
after spending some more time in the hospital to recover, iovitus is thrown back into the fahrar and continues their studies to the best of their ability, though they now have to walk with a mobility aid. no accommodations are given to them by their no-nonsense primus, tullia wildrush, which iovitus sees as some sort of punishment for their misbehavior, and begins to harbor a dislike for her authority, which will only continue to grow as time goes on. in actuality, tullia is attempting (for better or for worse) to push iovitus harder, knowing that if they do survive to adulthood, their opponents on the battlefield will actively target their newfound disability. the bullying they’d endured previously stalled briefly as the cubs had been harshly punished for their behavior by tullia, but it slowly fell back into where it was before – if not worse. before, iovitus might’ve been lightly pushed around, but now the cubs had something they could physically take from them: their walking cane. this continued till they were 10, when things shifted drastically: iovitus got into a physical fight with a girl who’d taken their cane and refused to give it back, pushing her down onto the ground and hitting her till she was still. oh. oops! after this incident, iovitus would be given a proper prosthetic limb by the primus, and the bullying died down – though it didn’t quite come to a complete halt, it was marginally less severe than it’d been previously. iovitus was never properly punished for the death of the other cub by their hands.
time passes, and iovitus continues to train hard in the fahrar, doing exceedingly well with both the longbow and throwing axes. as they shift into a teenager and are enveloped in the throes of puberty™, they go through what could be called a rebellious phase, purposefully going against what their primus says just for the fun of it – it earns them something of a respect amongst their peers, and iovitus relishes in that feeling, doubling down on their misbehavior. they also begin whatever the fuck the tyrian equivalent of hrt is, deepening their voice and earning them a neat little row of spines down the back of their neck, amongst other things. it’s only taken temporarily, as iovitus is satisfied with what they get out of it and don’t feel the need to continue. iovitus acquires a lot of piercings during this angsty bout of teenagehood. it is also during this time that they are introduced to the realm of illegal substances, doing whatever fun little hard drugs they can get their paws on. it never becomes an addiction, however, and iovitus is still keen to do well in the fahrar, despite everything. additionally, their close friend comes out to them as a trans woman, taking on the name cassia. she seems much happier afterwards, and the two blossom into a couple. win for the gays! 
soon after, the two of them graduate from the fahrar – cassia, despite being a year older than iovitus, stayed behind an extra year so the two of them could graduate together. rather than forming their own warband, however, they are invited to join the rain warband, as the both of them were amongst some of the best combatants in their year’s crop. iovitus took on the surname rainbreak, and cassia, rainsong. the rain warband was a spec-ops unit, operating as a sort of jack of all trades, doing whatever was needed of them – which usually meant killing what needed to be killed, interrogations, search and destroy/rescue missions, et cetera. all was well for a period of time, and cassia was quickly promoted to second-in-command, despite her young age. her prowess with the blade was incredible, as were her quick problem-solving capabilities and general badassery. iovitus also fell out of their drug usage during this period, though still did so recreationally whenever there wasn’t much to be done. things were good for a while, but they didn’t last long, thanks to the brewing conflict between the legions. wartime was fast approaching.
due to the nature of their warband, iovitus was spared from ever having to fight directly on the front lines, but that does not mean they are out of harms way; the rain warband is constantly moving from area to area, securing different zones, conducting quiet cullings, extracting information where they can, and doing whatever was needed of them without asking any questions. cassia was promoted to legionnaire after her predecessor was killed in a run-in with some flame legion soldiers. life went on and it kind of sucked because war sucks! iovitus gained a few cool new scars, so on and so forth. in the brief downtime that they have, iovitus and cassia talk about what kind of a life they’d like to live together when everything’s said and done. eventually, 2 members of the ‘band would be killed in an escort mission gone awry, leaving only 6 members alive. still reeling from the death of their previous legionnaire, this would hurt – but it was nothing in comparison to the event that would perspire in just a short few weeks time, so close to the end of the civil war. 
responding to a distress call from a nearby allied warband, the rain warband would find themselves locked in combat with a much larger, well-prepared set of flame legion soldiers. the warband they had been responding to were all already dead, so any attempt at rescue was out of the question. overwhelmed and underprepared, iovitus’ bandmates slowly fell till it was just them and cassia left – the flame legion warband had taken a few hits too, however, with a generous number of their bandmates dying. exhausted and grieving their fallen bandmates, iovitus and cassia are captured by the flame legion soldiers – rather than just killing them outright, however, they are tied up and beaten half to death in a futile attempt to squeeze any information out of them. being a spec-ops unit, however, they don’t really have access to anything they’d find useful, leaving the flame warband dissatisfied. there was no point in keeping the two of them alive, so they make the easy decision to just cut their throats and be done with it. cassia is first, and iovitus can do nothing but sit and watch as she bleeds out in front of them, coughing and sputtering, choking on her own blood. it’s an image that’s permanently burned into their head, and they watch the life slowly disappear from her eyes.
its their turn now, but just as the blade is put to their throat, their impending execution is interrupted by another blood legion warband – the tremble warband, who’d come to their aid, also having received the distress call from earlier. too little, too late. they are able to find and cull the remaining flame legion soldiers and rescue iovitus, but iovitus is, naturally, very upset. they’d just lost their entire warband in the span of a few hours and their partner – a staggering amount of grief overtakes them, and they’re not thinking properly. iovitus begs the tremble warband to kill them and be done with it – they reason that there’d be no witnesses to know what truly happened, and iovitus’ death could just be attributed to the fallen flame legion warband. the tremble warband refuses, obviously, no matter how much iovitus pleads for them to change their minds and reconsider. if they’re not going to kill them that easily, maybe iovitus can give them a proper reason to take them out. without any inclination as to what they’re doing, iovitus lashes out against their fellow blood legion soldiers, striking true with their axes – they manage to kill three before they’re knocked down onto the ground and hit hard enough to fall unconscious. iovitus wasn’t given what they desired – the release of death. they tried their hardest, though, having taken down the legionnaire and two bandmates.
following this, iovitus was brought to the blood legion homelands where they were put on trial for treason. iovitus didn’t care to fight the case, admitting guilt, hoping they’d be thrown into and die in some sort of gladiatorial combat. for whatever reason, however, the newfound legionnaire of the tremble warband, omiros tremblecut, decides to withdraw his case, instead allowing for iovitus to live freely as a gladium, much to the dismay of his bandmates. they are still found guilty of treason, though, and are expelled from the blood legion. at the time, iovitus did not know why the legionnaire did this. if they were in the place of the tremble warband, they knew that they’d certainly press for a painful death. iovitus knows now, though: the life of a gladium is a difficult one, ridden with grief, constantly followed by the things that they have done, knowing they can never return. there is no second chance; word of their crimes would spread, and even if iovitus was permitted back into the blood legion for whatever reason, they’d never find a warband willing to take them. it was a sentence worse than death, in a way.
leaving with nothing but the clothes on their back and a (stolen) raptor, iovitus wanders tyria for a few weeks, surviving off what little money they have on them. they don’t know what to do with themselves – it’s a brand new, unfamiliar, and quite terrifying world, and they have to navigate it all by themselves. part of them hungers for an easy death, but iovitus is too much of a coward to actually do anything. eventually, their funds run dry, and iovitus takes on a few odd jobs to get by. they purposefully pick and choose jobs that are dangerous, like mercenary work, hoping they’ll have an unlucky accident and end up dead. despite their best efforts, however, it doesn’t happen, and time slowly goes on. during this time, iovitus develops a fear towards other charr, avoiding them to the best of their ability – really, they avoid most social interaction in general, only talking to people when they absolutely have to. they’re also technically homeless, sort of just camping out in the woods when not actively enrolled in a job. life is miserable. iovitus takes out most of their piercings and begins smoking more regularly – it’s an easy distraction from their thoughts. they know it’s bad for them, but they do it anyways. maybe on purpose. since their expulsion, iovitus has actively worked to distance themselves from their charr heritage, taking on a more passive approach to life, and harboring a distaste for violence. 
at some point, iovitus picks up a job as a ranch hand, and discovers a previously unknown love for and skill with animals. iovitus takes comfort in them – sure, they have their raptor, but she wasn’t something iovitus really thought too hard about before. she was just kind of there. from here on out, iovitus begins to take on more and more work that deals with animal care and studies, slowly making a name for themselves in the community. the gladium begins to do their own simple research on genetics on the side, though they’re never confident enough to post anything they find. it’s all kept to themselves. time passes, and iovitus continues to work, pushing aside any thoughts of their past and pretending their heritage is nonexistent. they gain a few new companions along the way – first is meatball, an undead, underbaked minion of zhaitan who is too small to really do any actual harm. he’s free from the control of zhaitan, and sort of just acts like a bitchy cat most of the time. then, the aptly-named meathead, a smokescale whom iovitus rescued in maguuma after he’d broken his leg. meathead is trained in combat, and acts as iovitus’ companion. their most recently acquired little beasty is a griffon. he’s gifted to them as an egg by one of their coworkers, and though iovitus is hesitant to take him at first, they concede, raising him from a hatchling. he’s named W.P., and don’t ask what it stands for, because iovitus will never tell. 
as much as iovitus loves their animal companions, they are getting more and more lonely – it’s been a few years now. they are more social with their coworkers now than they were before, but don’t form any real meaningful relationships – most jobs are just a one-off thing, and iovitus loses contact with anyone they work with after they’re done. they crave the comfort of a warband – or, really, just anyone in general. the thought of another romantic relationship is overwhelmingly painful for iovitus to even consider. iovitus isn’t really sure where to start looking for companions. they don’t really like the limited feeling of living in a city – besides, the kind of work that they do requires them to move from place to place constantly. living in the woods also means iovitus has all the space to do whatever the hell they want and they don’t have to worry about neighbors or anything. it's fun! sort of. they do have to worry about bears and stuff, though, but that’s manageable. 
as terrifying as the prospect is, iovitus begins to look into their own family heritage, tracking down bloodlines and listing out all of their still-living relatives. charr don’t particularly care for their families, but iovitus doesn’t know where else to look – and they’re already not a very traditional charr, anyways. they have no siblings, so that’s out of the question. most of their aunts and uncles have been dead for a while, but iovitus’ mother is still around, as are a handful of cousins. well. it’s better than nothing, they suppose. it takes months of them building up the courage, but iovitus sends out a bundle of letters to any relatives they deem worth it, hoping they are unaware of their status as a gladium or don’t really care too much. most of them don’t respond, but iovitus does get two letters back – one from their mother, a harshly-worded response calling them a slew of insults and a blemish on their bloodline. ouch! thanks, ma. the other is from an older cousin – legionnaire gratta flashshot of the flash warband.  she’s unaware of the things iovitus has done, but knows of their gladium ranking. she doesn’t seem bothered by it, and the two grow close, spending more and more time with each other as time goes on. iovitus seems happier. are they? uhhh lol
gratta sort of moves in with iovitus, and eventually she leaves the legions altogether to live with them full time, all while iovitus continues to work – though at a much slower pace than they had been doing previously. they also spend more time in the human city of divinity’s reach, having made a couple of friends due to gratta’s unintentional influence. they have yet to connect with any charr outside of gratta in any meaningful way, still put off by the thought. iovitus also doesn’t really talk about their past unless prompted to, but there’s some things they haven’t told anyone – and they’d like to keep it that way. the thought of their friends – and, primarily, gratta – finding out of their crimes and wrongdoings terrifies them. so they’ll just bury it deep inside of them, and that’s that. it’s not healthy, but iovitus pretends it is. recently, iovitus has learned of their cousin’s occupation as a rift hunter, and are worried for her. it’s dangerous work, and she’s been doing it for a while. iovitus would much rather be doing it with her, to ensure she doesn’t get herself killed. they just don’t really know how to ask. oh, yeah, they also smoke a shit ton of weed, i guess
and that's where things stand currently! who knows what's in store for this kitty cat! wow i sure hope nothing bad happens to them!
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clintismoved · 2 months
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-> The Bartons, alcoholism, and violence
Harold Barton verbally abusive to Barney
Clint and Barney as children
The Barton boys parents died in a car crash as a result of Harold's drinking
Barney Barton after beating Clint and almost killing him (Hawkeye: Blindspot)
Harold Barton verbally abusive to Clint
Clint telling Barney while he's standing over him after beating him that "Dad would be proud" (observation that Barney is mirroring what their father use to do)
Edith Barton being taken to go with Harold
Harold Barton, drink in hand, screaming at his son
Harold Barton drinking
Do not reblog unless you are me
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amethystsoda · 7 months
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Me: hey mom… maybe you shouldn’t verbally attack dad the minute he walks through the door
Mom: YOU HAVEN’T BEEN MARRIED YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT IT’S LIKE
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podpilot · 4 months
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int main() { std::ifstream file("2391.txt"); if (file.is_open()) { std::string line; while (std::getline(2391.txt)) { std::cout <<
“Tessa. i told you to come alone. why did you bring that thing?”
mistress is angry. locking servos. averting gaze. Tessa sputters, looking in your direction. your ventilation systems whirr. she was not expecting you to follow her despite orders.
“I—he’s concerned for me,” Tessa answers. you can detect the high anxiety in her words. is she covering for you?
mistress raises an eyebrow. she scoffs, left hand moving to her corresponding hip. “what have i told you about anthropomorphizing those things? they are cheap machines. they don’t feel anything, much less concern.”
Tessa balls her fists. she does that when she is angry. you don’t want her to become angry. she will get punished. your ventilation systems whirr. Tessa bites back; she’s good at concealing her rage, but you know better. you know how she is when this is brought up. you have watched her attempt to advocate for unit fifteen and try desperately to appeal to her parents.
you know better then to let her try to advocate for you. you glance up, making sure mistress is not looking, and shake your head. Tessa does not see your movements. mistress does.
“Tessa. did you program that thing to talk back?”
“wh—no, mother! he wouldn’t do that! Naino is-”
“you named it?”
silence falls. you could hear a pin drop. you don’t hear a pin drop. you only hear stilted breathing as mistress’s eyes narrow. her glare bores into Tessa, then into you. you don’t flinch. you keep your head down and hands folded.
“it’s worse than i thought,” mistress huffs, shaking her head. her tone softens. it gives you chills. “Tessa. I know you’re lonely, but look at that thing, young lady. it doesn't even know what's happening in front of it.”
Tessa notices mistress’s movements toward you. “mother, please-”
your servos freeze up. mistress is approaching. don't run. that's uncouth of a servant. she looks down at you. she flicks your helmet with her fingers.
“they’re a dime-a-dozen,” mistress says, “hardly anything but silicone and plastic. i could dent it with my fist.”
“mother-!”
your ventilation systems whirr. mistress moves, grabs your hand, and — [ std::cerr << “LEFT HAND APPARATUS DAMAGED.” << std::endl; ] you stagger back a pace, pasting a caution sign on your screen; a bid to let her know that your functions will be temporarily impaired if she breaks any further apparatuses.
“it doesn’t even feel pain,” mistress declares, toting her fan. you recoil, retracting your limbs slightly. “it’s a product, Tessa. we can replace it in mere minutes.”
“mother! you’re scaring him!”
“young lady, there is no such thing. it’s not human. none of them are. they don’t feel anything.”
mistress grabs your wrist again and — [ std::cerr << “LEFT ARM APPARATUS DAMAGED.” << std::endl; ] you flash the caution image again. ( IT HURTS PLEASE STOP )
“there’s a reason humans evolved to be the dominant species. we’re clever and we think in ways that no other thing can hope to achieve, much less a machine,” mistress declares, “I can tear this thing’s arm off and it would be none the wiser.”
your systems whirr. she’s pulling. she’s pulling. you’re going to lose your arm. you panic. you can’t move. you’re… being moved. Tessa has moved you away from mistress. oh no. oh no. she shouldn’t have done that. it will upset mistress. mistress looks angry.
“young lady. this is why i summoned you here. your behavior as of late has been abhorrent,” mistress straightens her posture, then glances to you. “you, robot. get out of my sight and go clean the bar counters.”
you step back and hesitate. you look at Tessa. she gives a pained smile.
“it’s alright, buddy. go off. i’ll be fine.”
you turn on your heel slowly.
“I said to get out of my sight,” mistress snaps.
you bow, and take off down the hall. you can’t help but worriedly glance back before you turn the corner.
<<; std::endl; } };
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silverdeer · 6 months
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Why did she do that?
If Sylvia hadn't played that stupid game, then she wouldn't have been in that position. And then he wouldn't have played. And he wouldn't have seen how--
How weak she was.
The old, ancient whispers she thought that she had shaken off were back. They reminded her that she was worthless. She always looked for attention. Nobody cares. She doesn't deserve anything.
Sylvia wouldn't blame Athos for never wanting to see her again. Fuck.
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post-woke · 3 months
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Y'all awake?
Okay I continue to have subpar sleep but I woke up finished reading Get It Done.
The whole time, I was thinking about a conversation me and my mom had about the Bear on the phone yesterday.
And essentially how at various points all of our Mother's have been a Donna. like The intense verbal abuse as well as The practice of distancing and being erratic before breaking down.
And literally had to have the, you'd be happier if I was gone if I was dead conversation with her drunk mother at 2am, literally the weekend season 2 of the bear premiere. Because she for some reason (she was triggered but i dont use psych talk wuth her) was convinced my mother, her daughter, didn't love her.
And my grandmother watches the Bear as well, and it's a hard watch for her because it's like our family. but HER mother actually drove a car through her house before. My granny used to do a lot.
And it's like with each mother they becayes unless Donna like. But that was something that happened with more time, intervention, an emotional support as opposed to Enabling.
And how we've made progress is reflected in our carmy-and-donna ness. Abd i think that's kinda neat.
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buddy-arc · 9 months
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yui hcs lets go baby
honor student with a cheery demeanor whose home life absolutely Sucks
she’s rather reserved in quite a few aspects, particularly shy about sharing anything shes passionate about due to ridiculing from her mother
yui knows a lot about animals and is very passionate about thermal-gliding birds in particular. something about being blissfully free to go wherever she wants………
shes a perfectionist. if she messes up anything on the first try she gets so so so upset about it. she does have skill from sheer determination and Sometimes she can be stubborn enough to not give up on something, but that’s rare comparatively
girliepop is not afraid to get in a tussle with other kids if she can’t resolve stuff through speech.
yui is brave enough to snark when cordiality doesn’t work. someone starts getting sarcastic at her and she’ll retort in her cold analytical way
yui is very lightfooted and quiet in movement, and enjoys Loud and Bright things
yes she’s also the girl who would study ppl she finds interesting under a microscope, mostly observing their behaviors from afar and then being able to mentally write a comprehensive essay analyzing them w/ fan theories
physically, she’s got. a couple scars and is missing two of her bottom incisor teeth. she’s also very sensitive to air changes like lots of smoke/etc. shes also rather athletic and is slowly going deaf in one ear
more side effects of her bad home life under cut
she doesn’t tend to connect with people too easily, mostly because she’s scared of doing so
you could pour soup in her lap and she’d apologize to you but also her temper is wildin. she didn’t exactly have the best examples parent wise so she osmosised their Bad Traits…… she tends to bottle things up until she reaches the explosion threshold
also has really Really bad abandonment issues
she is. very scared and skittish around adults though. she Will clam up and have a trauma response if any adult shows displeasure or frustration
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percentstardust · 1 year
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what caused sam to get the fuck out of town is that her mom was yelling at her and blaming her for shit. she was just....doing the dishes cause tara was hungry. tara was hungry and their mother wasn't doing her job. so, sam was soberish enough to wash the dishes so she could cook for her sister. christina walks in and decides to start yelling and screaming and blaming for no reason other than the fact she was having a bad day so sam is who she wanted to take it out on. sam had half of the dishes washed at this point. she was washing a kitchen knife, doing her best to ignore christina's insults and verbal abuse. and then she said that she wished she never had sam and sam almost snapped. she almost took that knife and used it against her mother. she tossed the knife back into the sink, stormed upstairs, and by the morning she was gone. sam not only has bipolar disorder, but, due to her abandonment issues, i head canon she also has borderline personality disorder. she has anger issues due to that and her mother's verbal abuse was just making everything worse for her mental health wise. she had to get out. she had to leave. she's sorry for abandoning tara, but, she's not sorry for leaving. she got clean. she got help for her mental health. she planned on going back for tara when she was good and ready to.
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expectmcre · 11 months
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Melissa's father's comment about her not having her feet on the ground since birth deeply impacted her, though she had learned to keep a distance from things over time. Even as an adult, she is concerned about how her family and others perceive her actions and beliefs. She remains sensitive to criticism, particularly when family members use the phrase "Melissa please" to put her in her place. - (Insp. by x-files novel Devil’s Advocate)
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Additional: It took her a hospital stay when she was shot and a follow-up stroke during the emergency surgery to close that chapter for herself and move on without having to be reminded of what Ahab told her when she was a teenager. - (for the canon divergent verses)
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rotationalsymmetry · 2 years
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angelkush · 2 months
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JANUARY, 1995
It’s a shooting day and Dean’s ears are ringing with the pop of the .22 that’s growing heavy in his hands. At Bobby’s house he always has to wear earmuffs when he shoots; usually Dean complains because they look stupid, but right now his ears are so frozen he’s wishing he had a pair of his own.
He points the muzzle at the ground and shakes his head out, cupping a stiff hand to his cheek. There’s exactly zero blood flow happening in his face, and the cold makes each shot ring out so loudly he has to try not to flinch. And his socks are wet. Pretty miserable shit.
John’s on his way back from replacing the target, face grim.
“How’d I do?” Dean calls. Too loud, judging from the way his dad scowls.
“You’re blowing through ammo and you only got six on the page.”
Dean slumps. “Crap.”
“Yeah, it is. You need to get your shit together, I can tell your heart isn’t in this. You reload yet?”
Dean sniffles, even though he can’t feel his nose, either. “No.”
“No?”
“No, sir.”
“So get going. Show me you can do better.”
Dean’s fingers feel like ten useless icicles. He slides the chamber open and clink-clink-clinks ten bullets inside, then carefully closes the action. The Beretta is a testy bitch that jams constantly. Dad only trusts it for training and seems likely to chuck it soon.
He barely seems affected by the chill. Mostly he looks bored. “Go on and take a few steps forward. Ladies’ tee until you get ‘em all on the page, and then we’ll think about moving you back again.”
Dean’s skin crawls with embarrassment and he wants to protest—he could do better if it were warmer and if he weren’t so tired already—but obediently he moves closer to the target.
“Alright.”
He raises the gun and clicks the safety off. He’s probably more cautious with it than John cares, but he’d rather be safe than sorry.
The target is a sheet of paper with orange circles pinned to a stump surrounded by casings. He lines the center up in his sight and then aims a little lower to compensate because the Beretta shoots high. God, if Dean could get his hands on that ivory-grip Colt, he’d die happy.
He empties her out, gets about nine bullets on the page. Four of them land tight in the center. The stray shot is only because he overcorrected his aim at first.
He turns back to his dad with a grin on his face, feeling pretty proud. There’s a pleasant buzz of warm feeling in his nose and eartips along with the ringing in his ears as he traipses back to the ammo box. “Not so crappy, huh?”
John shakes his head. “Dunno where you learned to be such a brag.”
“What am I supposed to be, humble? Pass.” He squats by the box, breathing on his numb hands before delicately picking up the bullets. “Hard pass.”
“Being humble is what keeps you alive. Nine out of ten only seems good on a target that doesn’t move. It isn’t your best—or it shouldn’t be.” John’s silence is as unforgiving as his voice. Dean watches his words sink through the winter air like smoke.“We stay here until you can actually hit what you’re aiming at.”
Through no fault of his own, Dean’s mouth is suddenly letting loose the complaint he’s been trying to hold in. “Come on, give me a break, Dad. It’s freezing, and I’m tired, and I’m about to have frostbite on my carpal tunnel. I feel like I can barely pull the damn trigger!”
His father’s boots crush against the frozen ground louder than a gun. He looks up quickly, stomach dropping. Dad and his rifle make a stark silhouette against the cold white sky above.
“You don’t ever speak to me like that again. You sound like your brother, like some insolent child, not a man I’d trust with my weapon. I know I taught you better than this. When lives depend on you, are you still gonna be making excuses? Are you gonna be whining about the weather when it’s your bad aim that gets somebody killed? Is it gonna be the trigger’s fault when you get yourself killed?”
“No, sir,” Dean replies, heart beating in his throat.
“You’re laughing, you’re fucking around, I can see you’re not taking this seriously. You still don’t understand the stakes. Think about Sam—you know whose fault it’ll be if you can’t take care of him or the lives you say you want to protect?”
“My fault, sir. Dad, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t say sorry. Don’t be begging for respect when you haven’t earned it. The only reason we’re still out here is you. You being cold and tired right now is on you. This is all in your control. Your life is in your own hands, nobody else’s. Do you understand that?”
His eyes are so heavy.
Dean nods and looks down, unable to speak. He is so stupid.
The dry air is hurting his head; he won’t be surprised if they get back to the cabin and find Sam with a bloody nose. Kid’s got a fragile sinus. The sooner Dean makes this, the sooner they can get back. He loads fast.
“Sam told me that you went hunting,” John says, tone slipping back to conversational.
“Yeah,” Dean says, grateful as he slides the clip home. “Bobby showed us how to do animal calls.”
“Being able to hunt and eat what you’ve killed is important. For when you have to keep yourself fed, but for building character, too. A hunter should be able to hunt.”
“And fish,” Dean adds. “Hey, we should go again soon.”
John nods, the barest hint of warmth. “My point is, everything you need to survive should be in your power. Your gun is your second most important tool after grit. Even when you won’t know if you will survive, you have to know that you can survive.”
Dean nods, and after a few seconds of silence, he supplies, “Bobby makes good venison chili.” He doesn’t mention that Bobby specifically said John was not invited to any of his suppers.
“You get one?” John asks. “A deer?”
Dean stands slowly, thumbing the safety. He doesn’t click it off, yet, and he keeps it pointed at the ground. Like Bobby keeps cussing him out about. “Not yet.”
“Why not?”
Dean’s mouth is sour, the pit in his stomach is growing again, and somehow he’s sweating. John sounds like he knows the answer why.
Dean clicks the safety off and Dad doesn’t even look twice, just waits. Dean walks back to his spot and gets into position. Behind him, John sighs. He sounds so tired.
“If you can’t even kill a deer, how do you think you’re gonna be able to shoot things that look human?”
Dean aims at the target and tries to breathe. The freeze is in his lungs, now, January’s teeth seizing his insides so every inhale is sharp. The target wavers in his sight as he tries to keep his hands still. It’s just an orange circle. Just a tree stump. Just practice, so he’s fine.
He exhales slowly, finger curling around the trigger. He’s fine and he’s got this.
“I mean, what am I supposed to think, Deanna,” John says lowly, voice pinched with disappointment, “you tell me you want me to treat you like a man, but you can’t even—”
Dean fires, ten rounds in steady, thundering succession until the ringing in his ears drowns out the sound of the chamber clicking empty.
The target is in tatters. He thinks they all landed.
His chest is still tight, and raw, and like maybe something has shaken loose or broken free. With shaking hands, he zips up his jacket, and then he turns and walks to his father’s side.
“It’s Dean,” he says thinly. He clears his throat and adds, “Sir.”
John’s looking at him and Dean can’t make out what’s going on behind his eyes. After a moment he nods, and then jerks his head toward their gear. “Pack up.”
As Dean’s cleaning up—collecting fallen casings and discarded targets, and making sure every gun is unloaded and every safety is on because Sam always pokes around even when they tell him not to—John claps him on the shoulder. His voice is soft again.
“I’m just worried about you, I need you to know that. I want you to be able to take care of yourself and Sammy when I’m not around. This world is mean, and cold, and it’ll tear you apart. I can be hard on you kids…I push you too hard, I know it, and it still won’t be enough to keep you safe. And that kills me.”
John cups the back of his head. Dean meets his eyes and sees a world in there that he can’t begin to fathom. “You did good today, Dean, really good. I don’t want you to think I have any doubts—about how strong you are, and how brave. And I trust I can depend on you, son.”
Somewhere inside Dean, a knot loosens, like he’s finally been allowed to breathe a little. It’s good.
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beanyboi173thegoober · 4 months
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My latest post/reblog made me want to talk about something that Malevolent fans have probably all thought about, but I haven't seen it voiced yet.
While John and Arthur both have their individual character flaws, like John's insensitivity and Arthur's selfishness, they both, as a whole, are flawed in a way that makes me ache with a want to get them some goddamn therapy.
Arthur and John have a tendency to lash out on the other. Arthur himself has stated that he has said harmful things to John simply because he had no other outlet for his anger. John has abused Arthur's trust by weaponising Arthur's trauma against him. Both of these characters are toxic towards the other, switching from friendly to hostile with the flip of a switch.
Yet they cannot leave eachother. They can't have breaks to think and reflect on what they've said, they can't have privacy, they suffer through traumatic event after traumatic event, and neither can physically function without the other. They are forced to rely on eachother. They can't trust eachother, yet they have to. Any time they reveal something personal, it gets used against them. Any time they don't, the other gripes about it.
I have been a mediator for a very long time now, and I've actually began to study psychology. The research I've done, live study or written information, doesn't even compare to the dripping, deeply set knowledge of just how fucked up these two people are. They need eachother, and they hate eachother. They have a toxic codependency that disgusts me to think about.
Two people, forced together, forced to trust the other, no matter how much verbal abuse they may shoot back and forth, and forced to cooperate despite that abuse.
It's sickening, and yet the fictional narrative it's in is inciting, and so, we all must grin and bear it.
So yes, I will continue to call Arthur my baby girl, and John is my little silly, but deep down, I will know how fucked they act towards eachother, and I will despise it.
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residentfromnowhere · 2 months
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| CLICKED | PART: 2
ModernAU!SanemiShinaguzawaXAFABReader
TW: Narcissism, Threats, Mentions of Manipulation, minor violence, Mentions of Verbal Abuse, mentions of Mental abuse and Angst
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“What? What the fuck did you just say?”
With the initial shock now gone, you slowly straighten yourself and a calm feeling washes over you. “Let’s break up.” You say while continuing to keep eye contact with him. At first, he laughed. Thinking it was just a joke but when he looked back at you to see your once angered face turn into an almost icy look, he stopped laughing. All of these years of dating and he’s never seen you like this nor heard you speak like this. He’s used to you being docile and letting things like his shitty mood and horrible playboy behavior slide so imagine the shock he felt when he seen that you were serious.
The silence between you too was deafening but you couldn’t careless. It was as if you were going through the five stages of grief but instead skipped to the in between of depression and acceptance. You didn’t know wether to laugh or cry but knew you were done. Done with the lies, the gaslighting, the constant feeling of walking on eggshells, all of it. You were no longer able to react to him and his antics. So now, you’re doing what you should have done years ago, breaking it off.
“Stop fucking with me.” He says with a half serious half humored tone. “You don’t want to leave me.” When he looked to see if you had reacted, he was met with the same icy look as before which made him straighten himself up. “You can’t. You have no where to go and no one to go to. Unless you have money to pack up your shit and leave my place, you’re stuck with me.” He says with a shit faced smirk. It quickly faded though once you started to pickup your purse and stand up from your seat. He didn’t like this.
“Then I’ll leave.”
He froze. You? Leave him? What the fuck was going on? The indifference wasn’t something he was used to. He would never admit it but he loved getting reactions out of you. Whether its distress, anger, sadness or even hatred, it gave him a thrill. He never imagined you pulling the plug and completely checking out of the relationship. You were supposed to be the submissive type. The type that was just happy to be there and not speak up, not this. This was not a part of the plan. THIS was not how he was about to be dumped.
“Really? You’re leaving me over some stupid fucking joke?” He says as he slams his hands on the table, making several people turn around. You don’t know what came over you but you didn’t even flinch. Instead, you looked over your shoulder and sighed. Your facial expression made him shudder and angered him at the same time. It wasn’t one of sadness or anger, it was one of pity and regret and he couldn’t handle being pitied.
“I’ll find a ride home and by the time you get back, me and my stuff will be gone.” You say while leaving the table. “Like hell it will be, Y/N. sit back down and talk to me!” He says through gritted teeth as he suddenly grabs your arm and snatches you backwards, almost causing you to fall. “Who the fuck do you think you a-“
As if something came over you, you instinctively swung around and threw a punch. It must of landed because you suddenly felt your arm being freed. As your right fist connected to the left side of his jaw, a pop could be heard across the restaurant which made everyone gasp and stand up. His face started to twist as the realization hits him that you damn near knocked him out and that you were never weak, just unwilling to stoop to his violent level.
Before he could get up, you were gone and security stepped in to remove him. You quickly left and as he was being detained, you could hear him screeching in the background insults and “you will be back, you always come back!” over and over again. You don’t stop though, you just hurry and try to make it back before he does.
It’s been almost two hours since and you’re almost fully packed. Memories good and bad flood your mind as you pick up the remains bags of the floor. You do one last look around before You quickly grab your bags, and start heading out the back. Your phone has been ringing off the hook since you left and you weren’t planning on giving him the time of day. You were tired of it all and the last thing you needed was to be manipulated into staying once again. This was it. This was the last time.
As you walk out the door, you spot a picture frame with the first photo you both took together years prior. You shake any thoughts of staying out of your head and proceed to close the door behind you. This was your fresh start and the beginning to a new and amazing life. Little did you know that your absence will be the beginning of the end for Sanemi.
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ask-meowscarada · 8 months
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( Previously, from @askthepaldeanpassenger )
Prince: “Evolving is actually really important with my family. It's almost, like, expected that you'll evolve one day. The sooner the better, too.” Maria: “It is... a complicated situation. The expectation is always present, but all of the cousins admire the older family members. They want to evolve and be like those in the generations before them, but... There is not really a choice being made in the matter.” Prince: “What about you, though? How did you come to evolve? Were you as cute as *me* before? Heehee!”
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Finding the joy has quickly vanished from her face, Charade casts a gaze at Maria, giving the Umbreon a deliberate, knowing stare. She musters up a sad smile before turning her attention back on Prince, gently giving him a fond ruffle on the head.
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Charade: “Your family is very important to you, isn't it? Here's a little story about me. When I was a kitten, my... family... was important to me, too. They wanted me to evolve so I could be a strong battler when I grew up. And I thought that's what I wanted! I thought I wanted to evolve and make the family proud.”
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Charade: “Here's the thing: your family shouldn't make you feel pressured into doing what they want you to do. In my case, not evolving would have been... unacceptable. They were a terrible family for a lot of reasons, but that was one of them!”
Charade's expression turns to disgust, briefly enough that it was possible for Prince to miss it as just as quickly, a cunning smile appears beneath the Meowscarada's mask. As she speaks, her eyes flicker over to Maria several times.
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Charade: “I did feel some regrets when I was a Floragato. But when I evolved into Meowscarada, it was because I wanted to. I haven't regretted my evolution at all since then! And, I found a family that loves me for who I am. Remember that, Prince! You're allowed to decide who your family really is.”
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nick-close · 5 months
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Sometimes you need a good trauma vent au and for me that’s with Glenn, after prison where instead of wanting to kill his dad in revenge he just is so tired of how his life went to shit and decides to see if he can just. Be with his dad again and run scams like they used to because at least he’s with him, that’s all they used to have anyways- not like Glenn has anything else.
I like the idea Bill shit talked Christine to Glenn a LOT. She had to do the hard parts of parenting while he did all the fun stuff- took Glenn on random vacations- was also immature and kept the kid upstairs in his room while throwing a party with some friends- but overall it could be explained away as fun and chill ‘loosen up’ shit. Christine meanwhile was ‘always nagging’ (trying to be responsible) and ‘bleeding him dry’ (asking for financial support for their child.) In my heart I think Glenn was always kept under his thumb Yknow? And the fact he didn’t see his dad super often emphasized the appeal. He was a daddy’s boy who maybe didn’t start unpacking his trauma until his dad DIED. Only realized he might’ve sucked after talking to Morgan about it. I mean we see Glenn jump between aggressively hating his dad and thinking his dad was chill BEFORE prison- he had mixed opinions on that guy.
So something about falling back into that same thing of. Now he recognizes how fucked up his dad was. But he also knew his dad made him feel loved in a really fucked up way. And he kinda needed it Yknow? They both need to get out of a shitty situation- and Glenn can sometimes ignore how bad he feels because the authority and decisionmaking is out of his hands- he follows orders and gets praised for it. And really what else does he need? (Therapy)
Idk that’s my 6 am thoughts
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