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nii-chans-rabiddogs · 11 months

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TWs: mentions of broken bones, implied pet whump, implied/mentioned child abuse(?). Have a thing. It's exactly 669 words :3. Bit of a POV switch too!

@cupcakes-and-pain @maracujatangerine

“So, how was Ghost’s first training session? He’s a fun little guy to mess with, right?” Doctor Everly pestered, tapping away at his tablet.

“Stubborn, stupid, and got way too anxious after one shock. Little guy’s far too scared of pain to be a good guard dog, but with the Boss requiring isolation he can’t be recon or attack either. I’ll keep workin’ towards guard, but if he doesn’t get better soon then I’ll have to come up with something else.” Seren replied, filling in the file for the new trainee.

“Hm. Maybe you can turn him into a lapdog? Or a punching bag, you don’t need his obedience for that. If it were up to me though, I’d use him as a lapdog, with how talkative and cute he is.”

“Well, he wouldn’t be talking. Boss doesn’t want him speaking at all, basically. Other than that, he would be an amazing lapdog. If he takes to training nicely, then I might use him as an example. Once he stops overreacting, of course.”

“By the way, what’s the schedule look like? Is it any different than the usuals? Since he was a hero brat, and all.” Doctor Everly commented, trading the tablet for the medical file on Ghost.

“A little bit. We’re goin’ to continue working on ‘sit’, ‘stay’, and ‘come’, for the next couple sessions. Once he has that down, we’ll move to ‘place’ and ‘down’. Oh, after he obeys ‘come’ well enough, I’ll need to get him used to responding to Arlo. Ghost just didn’t fit right, and Arlo seems like a ditzy name, doesn’t it? It fits nicely on him. Then, once we have the basics down, I’ll move some workout gear into his room and get him started on a routine. The anxiety might be from lack of enrichment, I think. It wouldn’t hurt to get him moving, but I’ll also need to update his feedin’ schedule, then… On that note, does he have any allergies?”

“Yes, he does. Deathly allergic to mangoes and pineapples, and a slight cat allergy, but that one’s not too bad. While we’re looking at his medical file, I would like to mention that he’s broken his left ankle a good four times-”

“Four? Just on the left ankle?” Seren interrupted, wide-eyed.

“Yep, they had to bring in one of the rescue heroes, Stitch, to fix it so he could keep walking. Honestly, that kid should really be thankful for Detective Gunner and his connections. He also broke both hands, right wrist, and dislocated his left shoulder. It.. Jesus, all of that came from the same incident. Apparently it all came from the foster family he was placed with, but nothing on here tells me why they did that, or how exactly it happened. No wonder he’s so flighty.” Doctor Everly let out a low whistle, and flipped to another page.

“...That does explain the anxiety, at the very least. Is there lasting damage that I need to look out for?”

“Hm, let me see… Nah, you’re good. Apparently they got the same rescue hero to fix him up again, and her power works well enough that physical therapy isn’t required. I don’t see any other injuries on here.”

“Thank fuck. I’ll keep his workouts light, just to be safe once we get there, but other than that I don’t believe I need to change the schedule much. Do you still have those light sedatives on hand? I need some in case he starts gettin’ too anxious.”

“Yes, I do. I’ll have Christen drop some off at your office, enough for a month. If I need to up the dosage or give you more you’ll let me know?”

“Of course. I should get back to Arlo, now. He hasn’t eaten anything in a while, so I’m sure he’ll be excited for dinner. Thanks, Everly.” Seren called over her shoulder, loosely holding the file in one hand and waving with the other. Doctor Everly hummed and went back to his tablet.

#tw broken bones mention #tw implied/mentioned child abuse #tw implied pet whump #pet whump #whump writing #Ghost #Seren #Doctor Everly #Executive dysfuction is Not Fun #anyways have a thing #i changed to POV a bit bc why not but ill get the lapdog chapter out soon #hopefully #anyways have Ghostie content #<3 #<33333 #:3c

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cavinginhisfvce · 2 years

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'IT'LL ALL WORK OUT'

Disclaimer: I'm honestly not a fan of Susan, but I thought this fic idea was cute!

Paring: Harringrove.

When Neil married Susan, he was against Susan adopting Billy, claiming the boy's real mother couldn't bother to be tasked with raising him, so no one should ever burden themselves with such a thing.

Susan, surprisingly, was firm in wanting to pick up the slack Billy's mother left in her wake, eventually Neil relented, and the adoption process was underway.

It's been four years, and a move to Hawkins, Indiana since Billy legally became Susan's child, something Max was displeased with initially, quickly became a comfort to her when she discovered what Neil did to his son. It had shaken her to her core, and when she relayed the information to her mother, the woman simply pulled her into a hug and murmured, "I know, baby. It'll all work out."

Max didn't know what that meant, or if she should trust her mom. But, she silently nodded, she had no real options here. She had to wait for the future.

The future as it turns out, was just three months later; Neil had laid into Billy with more fervor than usual, and when Susan made to step in, her husband struck her.

It hadn't detoured the red-haired woman, she continued her self-appointed task of checking on Billy, who was staring up at her with a look she's never seen on his face, a look no seventeen should ever wear.

She gave him a small, comforting smile, just as Neil got a fist full of otherwise pristine hair; his freehand raising to strike once more.

The action worked quickly in pulling Billy from his Susan induced trance with a start, his body moving faster than his brain as he lunged at his father, swiftly knocking the man to the ground.

For years, Neil's abuse had only ever been turned towards his son, and in truth he was grateful; because Billy doesn't know what he would do if it was ever Max on the receiving end. She was a child, she was his shitty little sister. Max, who brought him the stupidest (best) hoodies he owns, the fabric softer than any he had previously. Max, who despite hating Billy in the beginning, now comes to his room when she has a nightmare or generally needs comforting from someone other than her mother. She's the only person to hug him since the day his mom took off.

His sister who despite everything, tries so hard to show Billy someone loves him. She loves him.

Susan had tried to comfort him, but Billy always brushed her off. She never seemed to take it personally for some reason. Maybe because she knew he was afraid of what would happen if Neil even suspected Billy felt safe in their home.

The knowledge that Neil could hurt Susan was always present in Billy's mind, but he often wrote off his concern with a scoff. She knew what she married, she knew what he was like. It was her problem, not his.

However, seeing Neil actually hit Susan had set something off in Billy, because while she may have never defended or stood up for him as she had today; she still made sure he was properly tended to after encounters with his father.

If Neil sent him to bed sans dinner, locking him in his bedroom for however long, she would have Max sneak him a sandwich, Max was always more than happy to take said food.

The times when Neil kicked Billy out intent on making the boy sleep in his car, Susan always snuck a bag of snacks, blankets, and whatever else, into the bushes by their house for him to grab. Despite always going to Steve's and sleeping in the boy's guestroom on those nights, it still showed she was trying.

If Billy was bed ridden after his father caved his chest in, a few too many times, she would come into his room, soothe his pain with hushed words and gentle touches. Billy was usually too tired and in too much pain to reject her warm hands and kind fingers working through his curls after she'd patched him up.

Seeing Susan cradle her cheek, seeing Max sob at the display, finally gave Billy the nerve to stand up to Neil.

He doesn't really remember much after straddling his father, his fists flying rapidly, their intended destination Neil's face, but he does remember Susan scrambling to call 911. Remembers her soft words of assurance that Neil was down.

He remembers Max's look of relief as their eyes met.

He still feels the phantom hold as Susan tugs him from his place over his dad's limp frame. Can vaguely recall the frightening seconds he thought he killed his father before the man was gasping awake, his eyes widened with fear as they landed on Billy. He was actually afraid of Billy.

Everything beyond that was a blur, Billy doesn't really know what was said, or done. He just knows Neil was in police custody, something that would've left Billy parentless, if not for Susan having adopted him all those years ago.

Especially since his own mother had taken off when he was barely five, and relinquished her rights as a parent in the same breath she'd divorced his father.

He always wondered why he wasn't enough. For his mother or Neil.

When Hopper came by to ask if they wanted to press charges, both Billy and Susan agreed easily. It was the most gratifying decision Billy has ever made in regards to his father and the abuse he's endured at his hands for years.

Billy and Steve started officially seeing each other a few weeks after Neil's trial ended. Hopper saw to it that his father was hit with the max sentence for child abuse, and domestic violence. Both Max and Billy would be well into adulthood when Neil gets released, something that made the decision to be with Steve all that sweeter.

He hadn't wanted to come out to Susan, the lingering fear that she would object to her newly seventeen year old son being with a guy was too prevalent.

Though, technically, he didn't come out to her, she came to him one morning with her hand on her hip and a warm smile on her lips demanding he "bring his 'Pretty Boy' to dinner."

Billy wanted to be upset that she'd found out, but he was far too humiliated that it was his own fault she'd figured it out. Apparently calling Steve 'Pretty Boy' like it was going out of style, was a dead giveaway for the woman.

Much to Billy and Max's (dis)pleasure, Susan and Steve got along easily.

On Billy's eighteenth birthday, Max had barged into his bedroom, shrieking in horror when she was met with an eyeful of her brother and Steve in a slight state of undress, Billy had thrown a pillow in her direction, his voice rough with embarrassment as he shouted,

"Mom, tell Maxine to fucking knock!"

Both siblings froze at that, Max had a wide smile on her face, while Billy looked slightly mortified, his words echoing in his ears.

The look morphed into one of pain when Susan slipped into his room, her smile rivaling Max's with how big it was, "That's the first time you've ever called me mom…"

Billy swallowed thickly and nodded his head, though he refused to make eye contact with the woman, even when she was throwing her arms around his bare shoulders in an iron grip hug, "okay, okay, I get it! Can we maybe talk about this shit later, you know, when I'm not trying to get laid on my birthday?"

Billy wasn't actually going to have sex with Steve with both Max and Susan home, but their presence in the house definitely wasn't going to prevent Steve from watching Billy fall apart beneath him, especially not if the brunet had any say in the matter.

This had Susan reaching out to lightly slap his shoulder, a faux look of exasperation on her features,"maybe next time you or Pretty Boy over there will remember to lock the door, hm?"

With one last smile at Billy, accompanied by a wink, she then ushered Max out the room, Steve almost immediately leaping up to lock the door behind them; his face beet red when their eyes finally met.

"I'm fuckin' moving out." His tone was embarrassed, but there was no heat behind, no real threat to his words.

He wouldn't leave his sister and his mother for any reason short of them wanting him gone.

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terxez · 2 months

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𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐉𝐔𝐌𝐏

𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫, 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰, 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐬, 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐦𝐩.

SAD

𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖭𝖺𝗆𝖾: 𝓝𝓪𝓽𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓪

2007

TW: suicidal thoughts, mention of suicide.

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☆ NATALIA'S POV

The door to my room was closed as I sat on the floor by my bed. Only my father was at home, I lost my mother when I was only 5 years old. Everyone thinks she died from cancer, but I know the truth. She committed suicide. It's not like someone told me...

I saw it.

I still see her in front of my eyes.

The way she's sitting on the bed crying. The way she's apologizing.

I didn't understand what was happening at first. I was 5. Mom disappeared out of nowhere and I was told she was sick and her heart couldn't handle it. But I realized it later.

all the apologies, the tears, the letters. It was all because she couldn't make it.

My father started beating my mother after I was born. He was yelling at her, scolding her, hurting her. later it got to me as well, when I brought home a bad grade from school, he started yelling at me.I could never have a boyfriend, I could only have friends, that he allowed me. I couldn't go out without him knowing who I was going with, where I was going, and where I would be. Ever since my mom died, it's gotten worse. My father started drinking and is always drunk.

“Natalia!! Bring me one beer” My father shouted at me from the living room. Even if I didn't want to, I had to. I said no once and it didn't go well. I got up from the cold, wooden floor and quietly went to unlock my door. I quickly reached the kitchen and headed for the fridge. As soon as I opened it, the cold that the refrigerator hides poured out on me. I reached for the nearest can and strode towards the couch where my father was currently sitting. I got goosebumps when I saw the face of a person who was half me. My shaky hands put the can on the table. Then I turned around so my back was facing his face ready to go back to my room.

“This is not the beer I wanted!” My father yelled at me. I automatically turned to face him. Rage burned in my body before I clenched my hands into fists . “Maybe you can get the fucking beer by yourself!” I let my emotions win before I could think twince. Only now I realized what I had caused. My mother wouldn't be proud of this.

The man who ruined my life got off the couch. His eyes were red. “Who do you think you're talking to, young lady!” My eyes were wide open, I didn't even have time to answer, and there were streams of water coming out of my eyes. I knew what was going to happen. “I'm sorry” I whispered quietly, wondering if he'd heard me. He started to raise his right hand to hit me, but I quickly turned around and ran into my room. The floor below me crackled as I slammed my door shut. I heard my father running after me, he started banging on my door and yelling my name, but I ignored it. I sat down on the bed again and began to cry, my eyes were tired. I was too but for a different reason.

I wanted to end it.

Now and here.

The noise my father was making didn't stop, he was even louder. “Open the fucking door slut! I swear I will beat you!!” His words hurt. The pain he caused me couldn't be healed. I hate him.

It's all my fault. It was always my fault. Maybe I was the reason my mother left me. What if there's something wrong with me? I look for mistakes in others, but never in myself. I'll never be happy again, it's not even possible. I can't talk about my family because there's nothing nice about it. I don't even have any family.

I'm nothing.

My life is meaningless.

I lifted my weak legs and looked out the window. My vision was blurry, my pulse quickened and my breathing irregular. I've never felt worse.

it was dark outside. Birds sang softly, children outside playing and enjoying their life, while I was locked in my room knowing that I had no one. The mess from the living room stopped. The only thing that could be heard was my father's television and me sobbing. I opened my dusty window and, slowly jumped out. I started running as fast as I could, wanting to be away from the place. Sticks crunched beneath me, leaves rustled and the wind blew violently. I decided to go to an old building where I used to spend a lot of time.

I stopped in front of an abandoned tall building. It didn't even have doors -The windows were broken and walls ruined. The stairs were dirty but stable. And with my final decision, I went up the stairs until I was at the top of the building. The view of the city was amazing, but my last.

I stepped on the edge of the building and just stared down. Up here the breeze was soft and calm, the air cold and fresh. The light fought with the darkness. It was quiet up here. You could hear some footsteps, but they weren't mine.

“Take a step back” someone behind me said, breaking the silence. I didn't turn around. Whoever it is, I don't want them to see my face before I jump. “No, I don't want to” I replied coldly, still looking down.

“Please don't jump” I sighed and put my hands in my pockets, it was getting cold. “Why are you trying to save me? You don't know me.. uhm-” My eyes started to water again, but I didn't want to look weak, I held them back and didn't let one fall.

“Bill, I'm Bill... and I don't want to let you take your own life, you still have time to change your decision” I laughed and rolled my eyes. “I'm serious” He assured me, and I just nodded “My life is terrible, it's not worth living and if you knew me you'd understand” You could tell he had no words. I don't want him to see me like this, but I warned him. No one will take my decision away, even if he tried real hard.

“What are you doing here anyway? Nobody comes here” I asked him, I've never met anyone here. Who would go to a abandoned place alone just like me? “I wanted to clear my mind.. and find the right words for my songs” I stayed silent. I guess he makes music or something - at least someone has some sense of life, if not me. “um, can you please leave now? I'm sure your family is waiting for you” I said with tears in my eyes. Just thinking about my family drives me crazy.

“The same goes for you”

“But I don't have a family”

Silence again. My heart was beating faster and my hands were shaking again. I want to end this as soon as possible.

“Last words, that you want to share with me?” I asked him annoyed. I know it's not his fault and he just wants to help me, but my heart is arguing with my brain whether to end it now or later.

“Please don't-” His voice cracked, his soft sobs could be heard. “I'm sorry.. Bill” I heard his screams behind my back. I was scared, but I knew I had to do it. With the last words, I stepped forward with my foot, taking one last look at the mesmerizing view that will eat me in a moment. I closed my tired eyelids and fell off the edge of the building.

Everything went silent.

I can be with my mommy now.

I'm sure that there are mistakes. I wrote it late at night when I was tired ^^ my first storyy, I hope you like it 🫶🏻.

#bill kaulitz #tokio hotel #sad stories #tw depressing stuff #tw sui attempt #tw sui implied #2000s #2000s fashion #tw abuse #child abuse #mommy issues #daddy issues #family issues #tw kys mention

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chloroformcurry · 2 months

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A rather heavy experimental piece. Could count as oc content and as something applicable to a real life issue igs. I hope I took all the right precautions on the tags 🙏

#tw csa #tw csem #tw csa implied #tw childhood trauma #tw child abuse #cw csa #cw csa mention #I hope I put enough tags #carboncopycomic

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queermentaldisaster · 4 months

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“There's a Revolution Coming”, part three of “The Devil Made Me Do It; But I Also Kinda Wanted To”.

First thing's first. If you read this on AO3, please, please, please pay attention to the tags. I will add sufficient warnings for each chapter here as well, but this is very much a Dead Dove fic. What you see is what you get. So please, proceed with caution when you see the tws/tags.

Tags: @forestshadow-wolf @axelaxolotl09 @im-here-and-im-confused @bringinsexybackk69 @rainerestored @8-rae-rae-8 (if you want to be added or removed from the taglist please inform me)

(Possible) tw: Children in captivity, mental breakdown, mentions of torture and mind control, discrimination towards demons, and implied child abuse. Proceed with caution.

Chapter 1 under the cut.

The helo landed, and Mirror grabbed Soap's bound wrists and began dragging him towards the military base. Soap's eyes trailed upwards, and his eyes narrowed. With the amount of security around this place, it reminded him of a castle. He looked back down, taking a deep breath. ‘Och, poor Si…he's probably terrified right now and masking it with anger…’ he thought. His thoughts were on Ghost, even as Mirror dragged him through the base. Then, he looked up, and saw just how many demons were here. More than a thousand. The rest must've come from all over the world, then. ‘How many demons did Meister break?’ Soap thought, as his mind drifted back to a conversation Ghost and him had while he was still recovering.

“You know, Meister tortured us to make us weak to mind control.” Ghost murmured. Soap's head snapped up from his sketchbook. “Mind control?” He asked. Ghost nodded. “Affirmative.” He brought his hand up to his neck. “He’d collar us, then attack us. He saw us as nothing more than tools.” Ghost's wings tightened around himself. Soap's eyes softened and he touched Ghost's hand. “Yer so much more than a tool to me, Simon. Yer as alive as the rest of us.” he murmured. Ghost looked back at Soap and his eyes spoke volumes. “Thanks, Johnny.”

A tear rolled down Soap's cheek. God, he hoped Ghost was looking for him. He was scared.

Mirror dragged him into a room, shoving him in and locking the door behind him. Soap fell to the floor, and knelt there, his hands clenched into fists. He let the tears begin rolling down his cheeks, as he tried not to sob. He was in the lion's den and all alone. Too weak to fight against demons and vampires and…whatever Shepard was. God, he'd never wished for anything, not even to be a monster…but now, he was cursing his human heritage. ‘Ah’m useless. Cannae even save maself, much less love Simon how he wants.’ He bit his tongue. ‘Ah’m pathetic. Fought tooth ‘n nail ta get where ah was, and now ah'm here. In an empty room, captured, unable to save maself.’ A sob escaped from the gag, and the dam broke. He curled up, sobbing.

•✧-----------------------------------✧•

He didn't know how long had passed, and he didn't care. He'd managed to get the gag out at some point, and he was now staring at the ceiling, counting the tiles. “Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six-” He was interrupted by the door flying open. Graves was standing there, his eyes narrowed. “Do you ever shut up!?” He snapped. Soap sat up, placing his bound wrists on his knees. “Ya ken, Graves, ye have a really bad track record with kidnapping. Twice in two months. Ghost isnae goin’ tae be happy with this.”

Graves's eyes narrowed. “I do not care what that beast thinks. He's nothing more than an animal, a tool to use as we see fit. He doesn't have feelings, he can't.” Soap's eyes narrowed. “...” He lunged at Graves, only to be tackled by one of the other demon guards. Graves's eyes narrowed. “Take him to the little room.” The demon nodded and dragged Soap off as Soap screamed his head off at Graves, in pure rage.

The demon threw Soap in another room, this one with three beds, and paper strewn around the room. He hit the ground roughly, and he let out a groan. He felt hands grab his binds and he almost struck the person…until he looked ahead…and saw a child with pale tannish skin, her right eye being a purple color, her left eye being a pink color, blonde hair, and tiny red horns. “Evelyn! He could be a threat!” came a voice. He turned his head and saw a girl, no older than fourteen, shielding a smaller boy. The girl had light grayish pinkish-purple hair, her right eye being orange and her left eye being a dark grayish magenta color. She had a burn scar by her right eye, and she had horns of a dull gold color that curved like a ram's. Soap looked around, spotting two other kids. His heart sank.

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a-j-s-the-only · 2 months

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I wonder if you knew I said no

did you just not hear me?

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skyward-floored · 2 months

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Also any and all of the Hyrule backstory ones 👀 (I may have a type lol)

- hero-of-the-wolf

Don’t have a lot of concrete stuff for those ones either, but here’s a bit at least. I have too much Hyrule angst in this au, I feel so bad for him 😅 I’ll get to fluff eventually... someday.

Link felt his stomach heave as he looked at it, taken so off-guard that he almost tripped when Carok shoved him forwards.

“Go on, fix him! Mob’s our best sharpshooter and he can’t do anything with his hand like that!”

Link swallowed and looked at the burns again. “I-I don’t know if I can—”

He didn’t get to finish before Carok struck him across the face, so hard he fell to the ground.

“I’ve seen what you can do kid,” he spat as he grabbed his collar, and Link tasted blood on his lip as he shook him, “don’t try and lie to me. Now fix his hand or I’ll get the boss in here.”

His shirt was released, and Link shakily regained his footing, then walked over to the couch, the injured man still groaning quietly in pain.

#answers from the floor #lovely hero of the wolf #wip #Incredibles au #tw injury #implied child abuse #I guess?#just in case #I think it could be worse but I’d hate for anyone to see stuff they don’t want to #but yea #remember in that first febuwhump where Hyrule mentioned healing someone’s hand?#this is it

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doreensladle · 17 days

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For those asking, here’s the full poem from my most recent edit:

Biology Class

“Just like his father.”

it’s a curse, spoken in hushed tones,

screamed like swords clashing,

it is grinding metal and cries of pain.

it is an omen spoken from hellfire,

his lineage will need to be baptized out of him.

“Just like his father.”

he is a boy.

he carries the judgment

of another man’s mistakes,

this burden was not his to begin with it,

but it now burns the lines from his palms.

his hands blister the longer he holds it,

eventually it is welded into his skin

like it was always a part of him.

they were the ones that put it in his hands

and they don’t even know it.

“Just like his father.”

he has his father’s eyes, and his arrogance,

but is it genetic or is he just a normal teenager

who thinks they know more than they do?

they haven’t given him a chance to grow.

he is not his father, he is just a boy

with all of youth’s natural confidence.

they forget what it’s like to live in a world

that expects you to be older than you are.

“Just like her mother.”

it is said with resignation,

or irritation hidden under barbed teasing.

she carries exhaustion on her shoulders

and wears it like an apron rather than a cape.

she is apathetic in all of the ways

of a woman with a duty she never wanted.

she had responsibilities forced onto her

before she could even spell injustice.

“Just like her mother.”

she has learned how to be sharp,

all of her girlish softness

has been beaten out of her.

she was raised in the lion’s den

yet, they are surprised when she roars.

her hair is matted with the blood

of generations to come,

and she bears her teeth when she sees it.

“Just like her mother.”

she is steely and strained,

she has her mother’s calloused hands,

and her quiet rage.

she must be diligent to survive.

she made a deal with heaven and hell

the first time she ever bled.

they couldn’t kill her if they tried,

and that’s the beauty of her.

“Just like their parents.”

it is an insult, even if it is not meant to be.

they are children raised in jail cells,

they carved the days into concrete walls

until their fingertips bled

and then they continued

until they had nothing left to give.

they made plans for escape that changed

in the delirium of a lifetime sentence.

“Just like their parents.”

they don't look at themselves in the mirror,

they know who they will see there.

there is iron in every tear they spill,

and sweat in every drop of their blood.

they have been forged in the center of the sun,

unyielding in its potential,

unforgiving in its power.

“Just like their parents.”

they are mistakes and they are regrets.

they have learned how to live

with the shadow of another life,

of somebody’s, what if?

they have learned about anger,

they have learned what love isn’t.

they think that they could do it better,

but isn’t that just the family curse?

#poetry #poetry edit #tw child abuse #tw implied abuse #tw blood mention #I told y’all it was long #but still sorry in advance #my greatest flaw is my inability to be concise

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1-800-whatwouldbillydo · 1 year

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Billy & the Kids

Also on ao3

Long story short, Steve’s been surviving on zero sleep and five cups of coffee a day, so Billy decides to take a load off by suggesting that he can watch the kids. Steve drops them off at the pool, and Billy learns that the shit birds’ summer break has been... hazardous to say the least. He sees an opportunity to connect with them, recalling the bag of pool toys he saw in the supply room. Plus, the kids get to have some normal fun. No monsters. For Billy, too, because Neil is going to be at a meeting until 10 p.m. Knowing his old man, he’ll be back three hours later.

He assures Steve they’ll come back in one piece, and Steve gives him a tired but knowing smile. “I know.”

It’s a strange feeling, to hear that someone actually trusts him. Not just anyone; Steve.

The day goes by smoothly, except for Mike refusing to put on sunscreen. Max ends up chasing him and squirting him with the stuff, which solves that problem efficiently. That’s something Billy would do. She’s got the better side of him, too. He’d forgotten there was another, sillier side to him until Steve brought it to the surface.

Dustin brought his mother’s floral shower cap instead of an actual swim cap, a misunderstanding that will live rent-free in Billy’s mind for the rest of his life. Lucas and Will were the only ones who thought to bring goggles. Max goes into the pool first, followed by the boys. To his delight, they walk, not run.

El lags behind, and he approaches her with a friendly albeit concerned smile. “What’s up, Hopper Junior?”

Staring holes into the ground, she replies quietly, “I don’t know how to swim.”

“I can teach you-”

“No! I want to join my friends. I don’t want them to see me differently.”

Billy frowns at that. “They’re your friends. They shouldn’t judge you for shi- stuff. How about floaties? They help you... well... float.”

El turns pale, and she shakes her head so hard he’s worried it’ll snap clean off her neck.

“Uh... alright... what else... Oh! You see that red and white thingy over there?” He points to the other side of the pool, and she follows his finger. “Looks a bit like a big donut?”

She nods.

“Heather! Could ya pass me that lifebuoy?”

“You know what, Billy, the day you use the magic word to ask me for a favor, is the day hell will probably freeze over,” his co-worker yells into her prized megaphone.

If she said to him the only reasons she wanted this job were for that and her “throne”, he’d believe her.

“JUST- get it. Please.”

Heather gasps dramatically, kicking her feet in the air. “Does hell feel any colder?”

“You tell me. You’re way closer,” he says, mock shuddering.

She climbs down with one hand (the other is too busy flipping him the bird). “You suck,” she informs him, tossing the "donut" in his direction.

“And you swallow.” He catches it, flashing her a triumphant grin.

“No, that’s you.”

“Billy?”

Oh fuck. The kid. “Whatever you heard, don’t tell your parents.”

“My dad curses, too.” Her little face grows oddly serious, and she adds, “I won’t tell.”

He ruffles her curls. “C’mon, I’ll show you how to use this donut.”

🍩🍩🍩🍩🍩

Turns out time does fly when you’re having fun. The kids listened to him. No one ever listens to him.

When the sun starts to set, they dry off, and Heather tells him to go ahead, she’ll close up this time.

He drops Lucas off first, then Dustin, then Mike. Nancy’s waiting for her brother when Billy pulls into the Wheelers’ new driveway. She looks happier now that Karen’s out of the picture.

“Hey, Billy. Was Michael well-behaved?”

“Mike! It’s Mike!”

Billy smirks. Since he and Nancy had started to become friends, he’d learned she could be quite mischievous. “Michael wasn’t a total demon.”

“M-I-K-E!”

“Too bad you’re not sleepy enough to shut up,” Nancy says, giggling.

“UGH!” Mike stomps into the house, dripping water all over the floor.

“I’m going to murder you, you little shit stain!”

Billy chuckles to himself as he gets back into his car, where Max is asleep on El’s shoulder, and Will is yawning.

The next stop is the Byers.

Joyce opens the door after the first knock, and the aroma of pie hits him.

Has he eaten since breakfast? Shit.

Will waves to him sleepily, and El hugs him, then whispers something to Joyce before going into the house.

“I can’t thank you enough. El says everyone had a great time. Would you like to come in? I have pie.”

Now, he doesn’t know Joyce much yet, but from what he gathers, she’s not one to take no for an answer. He’s too tired and hungry to turn her offer down, even if his suspicions are still ever-present.

He follows her inside, where she puts a blanket over his shoulders and pulls out a chair for him.

‘’Do you like apple?” Her eyes aren’t anywhere they shouldn’t be.

Billy hates how that only makes him more anxious. He clears his suddenly scratchy throat. “’S fine.” His mother used to bake all the time when she was happy. During those last few months, she stopped smiling, stopped doing what she loved, and she would leave for a couple of hours. But she’d always come back, mostly in the morning. Until she didn’t. That’s just what living with Neil Hargrove did to you. Apple was her favorite. His, too.

“I’ll fix you some tea, too.”

“Mrs. Byers, you don’t have to-”

“Nonsense. I want to.” She sets a big slice in front of him, accompanied by a fork and knife. “Call me Joyce. I insist.”

“Thank you, Mrs- Joyce.”

“Dig in, it’s no good cold,” she says, smiling at him. Her eyes never travel to his chest. No, she maintains eye contact. Like she sees right through him.

He starts eating, all too happy to oblige.

“You’re really good with the kids, you know. Especially with El. You were sweet to her. She doesn’t have... great memories of the water, but you helped her make happy ones.”

Billy swallows convinced some crust is caught in his throat as his eyes begin to tingle. “I... helped?”

“I see why that Harrington boy likes you so much.”

He blushes up to the tips of his ears, stuffing more pie into his mouth.

“Nearly midnight. How about that.”

Fucking fuck. Just like that, his dream bubble deflates. His eyes sting again. I don’t wanna go back there. But worse will be waiting the longer I put it off.

“Billy? You’re welcome here anytime. I mean it. And honey?”

“Yeah?”

“Drive safe.” She sends him off with a long hug, pie, and tea for the road.

“Thank you, Joyce.”

“Good night, Billy.”

Karen had told him the same thing. Drive safe.

Joyce wasn’t Karen. Wasn’t his mother, either.

Both bring an odd comfort to him.

His stomach is full and warm, not leaving much room for doubt. He drives the speed limit this time, thinking about his day. His mother, wherever she was, did she know he was happy?

That he had fun? No tears were shed. He made people laugh.

Today was a good day.

I want more good days.

***

//✍️Tagslist open//

@flashwaves @thebussynotes @shieldofiron @thatgirlwithasquid @jad3w1ngs @usaqaix @hargrove-mayfields @thecrabnebula @talesfrom-theupsidedown @emeraldwitches @robthegoodfellow @magellan-88 @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @spaceboxkitty @ashyyboyy @harringrovsonsworld @martyreasemymind @awkwardgravity1 @fizzigigsimmer @captainrexshusband @atomrose @billyhargr-a-ve @anarcha-queer-horror @skyesayshi @hgrve @angelshiba @jaethecreator @thissortofsorcery @suometar

#billy hargrove #tw mention of karen wheeler #implied child abuse #mention of neil #joyce byers #mike wheeler #will byers #dustin henderson #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #el hopper #my writing #ao3 #nancy wheeler #heather holloway #billy & el

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thelunarsystemwrites · 2 months

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!Vent!

trigger warning, the following content discussion mental illness, trauma, child sexual abuse, swearing, victim blaming, aggressive behaviour. You have been warned.

Honestly I don't know what to be mad at.

Like, I was a kid. Who the fuck does that to a kid? In HIS own damn house! Why did that happen? Because I feel like I deserved it, or like it's my fault? I was a kid, i was old enough to talk and say no??

IT'S BEEN OVER TEN FUCKING YEARS why am I still afraid!? I'm so fucking pissed at myself because I haven't got over it.

BUT I WOULD NEVER SAY THAT SO SOMEONE ELSE!?

Just-

I dunno I'm tired.

I'm tired of holding myself to a higher standard than everyone else but I don't stop doing it?? And I'm fully aware of victim blaming right now but i feel like I deserve to be blamed, and if I ever told my family they'd hate me.

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hayatheauthor · 1 year

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I am not the girl I used to be

But you are not the man you were before you laid your hands on me either

And in some twisted way, that comforts me

#Poetry #dark poem #dark poetry #tw: sa mention #tw: implied sa #tw: implied child abuse #child abuse #childhood trauma #grooming #tw: grooming #this isn't about a certain event in my life!!! It is just related to an emotion I think most girls feel when they suffer from abuse #haya: writes #poetry #poems on tumblr #spilled poetry #ten word poem #depressing poem #sad poem

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werewolf651 · 1 month

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Quick tw I talk about child abuse and suicide in less than vague terms here and I have not read Dreamtale in it’s entirety

Recently, I’ve been thinking about Ink and Nightmare. I think about them a lot, but this time around I thought about their respective stories and what comparisons I could make. They both started in intensely stressful conditions that eventually pushed them to extreme lengths to escape their torment. For both of them, their solution caused them great harm and I would go as far as to say they both killed themselves to get away. Another part of this is the reaction of the people who witnessed their accidents. For Nightmare, it was his community that pushed him to this. They were his tormentors and the mob that surrounded him in the end. For Ink, his community was apathetic to his suffering, they were apathetic to everything and that was the problem. Their brothers on the other hand, were the only ones to reach out and try to help. Dream never having had the ability to help, despite possessing the urge to assist; _____tale Papyrus feeling something strong enough to break though his permanent apathy for the first time. Both reaching out towards their brother from an unreachable distance in vain.

They were both depicted covered in Dark liquid in the end.

Ink is from Comyet

Nightmare is from Jokublog

picture to help illustrate what I meant by Ink being covered in darkness.

#ink sans #nightmare sans #mentioned tw #implied child abuse #They also had very different outcomes to their stories #I don’t know if Ink was ever a child #Did he just appear fully grown or???#I personally think he was basically a child either way #Both stories are tragedies

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theresthesnitch · 2 years

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(a little something for Sirius and Harry Saturday that I decided was too long for @impishtubist's askbox...)

When Sirius moved in with the Potters, things were not just suddenly okay. Sirius acted out a lot. Testing boundaries, sure, but he also thought that they would eventually kick him out too, because if even his parents didn't love him enough to keep him, then why would the Potters?

Only, Euphemia and Fleamont were not Walburga and Orion. They responded to each outburst with kindness and love. They set reasonable boundaries and had reasonable expectations. Every time Sirius did something else to break those boundaries and force them to finally punish him, Euphemia would look at him and say, "I love you, but I don't love the way you are acting right now."

One night, Sirius came home, hours after abandoning James in some muggle neighborhood, drunk and high. Euphemia stayed with him until he sobered up, even though he slept through most of it.

When he woke up, she was sitting in a chair next to his bed, knitting. She saw he was awake, and proceeded to tell him that she loved him, unconditionally, and that she was worried about him. She promised to always be there for him, even when he scared her the way he did the night before.

Sirius had never had anyone worry for him before. He hadn't thought that what he was doing would scare her. He never again disappeared like that, or came back quite that out of it.

(She knit a sweater that night, which Sirius wore nearly constantly until he wore it to rags. She knit him another to replace it.)

When Harry came to live with Sirius and Remus after POA, he was overly well behaved at the beginning. Sirius and Remus had to convince him that he didn't have to wake up early to make them breakfast, he didn't have to sweep and mop and wipe down the counters and the toilets every night, and he did not have to stay out of the way so he was neither seen nor heard. It took a while, and the sacrifice of every single piece of the Black Family fine china launched at the hideous Black Family Tree tapestry, but they finally convinced Harry that it was alright to be a teenager.

With the new freedom, Harry rebelled.

It was small things, at first. Testing boundaries. When he found lines to cross, he did, and Sirius watched as Harry braced for whatever punishment he had been conditioned to expect. It never came, and every time, when Harry relaxed again, Sirius watched the confusion and awe on his face, and wondered whether Euphemia saw the same mix of emotions on his own face.

Remus didn't get it–why Harry lashed out at them. He couldn't get it; not really. His parents weren't perfect, but they loved him.

Sirius got it, though. He understood the absolute disbelief that someone could love you as you were, unconditionally. So every time Harry yelled at them, or broke something, or slammed his door so hard that the entire house groaned under it, Sirius thought of Euphemia and her kind smile and her kinder words.

I love you, but I don't love how you're acting right now.

#sirius and harry saturday #good godfather sirius black #euphemia is queen #wolfstar raising harry #wolfstar raising Harry after POA #tw drugs #tw alcohol #tw implied child abuse #vague mentiones of child abuse #canonical black family abuse #canonical dursley family abuse

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asksavel · 1 year

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"A few years later, Omni visited. After that... Kyu dedicated himself to trying to feel. He explored the world, and he found many things."

"There was a child he found once being hurt by her parents. He destroyed them utterly. That day, the hatred gauge filled for the first time, as did fear, for instance. It's how he got such a fearsome reputation."

"Over time, the rest of his emotions slowly flowed back... but he lost hope about 2000 years ago, after he became friends with Ky and Don."

"... but that is not a story for me to tell."

@askcapital

#askcapital #taiji #kyurem #asksavel #tw: implied child abuse #tw: mentioned child abuse #(( Check the Alt Text ovo ))

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problematic-alters-unsilenced · 2 months

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I have DID because I was repeatedly raped as a child. As a result of this, I have child parts who hold memories of what happened and have trauma responses related to it. These child parts have engaged in dangerous sexual behaviour my whole life, including when I was literally a child. This was how I realised I had DID, even. I'm an adult now and talking about it in therapy is extremely difficult, and I wouldn't dare mention it online, despite hypersexuality being an incredibly common trauma response, because people would start painting me as a pedophile for my own trauma responses, despite the fact that the only 'child' involved in these acts are my own traumatised/flashback states.

:[ that sucks man.. people do struggle with excepting more grosser or horrifying parts of coping with trauma and the trauma responses that may happen.

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a-j-s-the-only · 28 days

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i still feel your hands

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