#tw trafficking mention | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

casketscratch · 5 months

Text

I have an emergency appointment with the therapist tomorrow but fuck fuck fuck fuck fucking fuck

for real TW on csa/abuse/incest/trafficking/rage but also maybe cults? i don't even know if they count as one but just in case.

I can't lmao, like the anger and the sheer emotion that is roiling under my skin I don't know what to do with other than breathe fire and I want to hurt them, I want to hurt every single one of them right in their very souls and make them register just how much damage they did to us. And it wouldn't matter, is the fuck of it, because they all did it to each other, too. My grandpa abused his kids who abused their kids who on and on and on. And they married other people like them and it's this whole, just. Behemoth. Thing.

We remembered. Not everything. But enough. One incident that just. I need to spew, I need to go outside and howl and destroy something but I'm incapacitated with pain and muscle spasms and just you know asthma, and... And some part of us is scared of being too obvious still. Rightfully.

My cousin's "rite of passage" when he turned 13 was being given me, younger than he was, to... you know. But it was a family affair and I so hesitate to use the word cult when I don't really know, but... what's the word for cult-adjacent? For... the level of organized they were, the level of conspiracy required (like, legally), the... jesus christ, the brainwashing and conditioning we had to so carefully get through. I don't have the language for what it even technically WAS, where do you even BEGIN?

We were written out of the wills when we moved, I was told once, because it was so... we weren't supposed to get away like that, oh my god were we ever not, and there are parts so certain we are going to die because of it because they. let. our other aunt die. She's the only one we know of who ever distanced herself and got out and she died homeless and alone and no one knew for years because no one cared enough to look for her and I am just hitting a level of oh my god a lot of pieces have come together, I think.

I want their hearts. I want to sue them for everything they're worth, everything they took from me, everything they barred me from. I'm so in debt from paying for endless chronic health issues, and sometimes from paying, lol, to fly myself back to see them, haha, because the compulsion to return was so ingrained and we would basically volunteer ourselves to be re-conditioned and have it all like, strengthened, and I just.

I don't blame those parts for doing it I just can't swallow that the debt is from that, I can't do it, I can't get past the sheer fucking ocean of rage at how fucked I am because of ... the therapist hates when I attribute anything to luck bc what I want to say it was just bad luck being born to the people I was BUT THAT'S NOT IT, IS IT. They CHOSE THAT. It was ritualistic and "rites of passage" and so FUCKING DELIBERATE.

Ah, see, I get why the therapist is so frustrated with the luck thing now, lol.

Where do you even fucking begin once that dam breaks. Who the fuck would even believe us. How much did I risk telling them I remembered and not to contact me ever again. What the fuck?

They broke me to rock bottom and I clawed my way out of it with shredded fragments of a picture and I will carve their guts out with whatever tools I have. For my late aunt's sake, if nothing else. She deserved so much better.

And if I say that about her then I have to fucking own it: we deserved so much fucking better too.

#tw csa mention #tw trafficking mention #tw everything mention man idk #rage and negativity and it's a vent lmao i'm so done with everything #delete later

5 notes · View notes

brokenfoxproductions · 8 months

Text

I took a bunch of photos yesterday where I looked fine as hell but I really don't know if I want to post them or not just because having my face attached to the stuff I talk about on my YouTube could possibly be a security hazard.

Like, I really want to be able to share nice photos I take of myself that make me feel confident, but I still think that the threats my former trafficker made about suing me or otherwise retaliating against me would be a little bit easier for her to realize if she saw my face online, because unfortunately I have a few distinct characteristics that haven't changed since then, even though I grew up, gained weight, and transitioned.

I just want to be a hot boi on main and I'm not even allowed to do that without being nervous that's something as simple as my eye color would make it easier to harass me in person.

5 notes · View notes

torisaysyeet · 1 year

Text

ANDREW TATE WAS ARRESTED ON HUMAN TRAFFICKING ACCUSATIONS!!

#andrew tate #tw andrew tate #human trafficking mention #tw human trafficking #tw trafficking #tw trafficking mention #romania #arrested #and right after deciding to pick a childish fight with Greta about his stupid lambos emissions #fucking hilarilous #and all his little fanboys are claiming she called someone to have him arrested #i love this #politics

12 notes · View notes

feelingbitch · 1 year

Text

ngl i kinda hate that being pro sex work/er has somehow turned into meaning that the porn industry is or should be beyond any criticism as if issues like abusive work environments, law violations, and even human trafficking didnt exist. sorry but having "pro sex worker" in your bio and writing "yas queeeen" under a successful only fans models twitter post doesnt really mean shit if you dont wanna support workers in their fight for better protection. if youre only interested in the shiny cool successful porn stars with lots of money but dont care about the (usually poor, often woc) workers who dont have much of a choice but accept the mistreatment bc they cant afford to leave, then thats not progressive lmao its just classism, racism, misogyny and a lack of critical thinking.

#its either be entirely 100% pro all of it never criticize any of it #or be labelled a swerf #which doesnt really help anyone #how is it feminism if it just completely ignores the most vulnerable group of women lmao #kinda hesitant to post this bc i dont wanna get hate but. whatever #tw trafficking mention #tw abuse mention

6 notes · View notes

intersectionalpraxis · 4 months

Text

I've said this many times before -if you call yourself a feminist and you're silent about ANY person being oppressed around the world by violent dictators/regimes/governments (among many injustices) you're not a feminist. If your feminism isn't intersectional, it's not feminism -it's white feminism. If you don't know about or aren't talking about Sudan and the rampant sexual violence against Sudanese women by a terrorist genocidal militia -then GET TO KNOW and start talking about it because this is horrifying. I'm so tired of seeing mostly white women come to the frontlines of issues when it only benefits or impacts them. I'm beyond embarrassed for you.

#feminist #feminism #social justice #free sudan #sudan genocide #eyes on sudan #sudan #liberate sudan #keep eyes on sudan #tw sex trafficking #white feminism #tw sa mention

3K notes · View notes

sunset-peril · 1 year

Text

Ashes Remain - Chapter Eighteen - The Fall of Apollo Justice

~~~~

April 3rd, 2027

???

~~~~

“Thank you, Wright, for being able to meet on such short notice.”

“Of course, Miles. What’s the occasion?”

“I have someone I’d like you to meet. Kay?”

Edgeworth’s twenty-six year old daughter stepped out from behind the corner, a ginger peeked out from behind her. She was only about an inch shorter than Kay, but seemed worlds smaller.

“This is Doctor Cykes.”

“I didn’t realize she was already in the country.”

“Her visa arrived a little earlier than expected. Her caretaker and I decided it might be best to get her into the country early and let her settle. She’s quite gun-shy.” He turned towards the two young women. “Athena? Would you like to meet your new boss?”

Athena stepped closer. The first thing Phoenix noticed on her was the strange, frightened looking necklace. Once she was close, her head threw up and gaze hardened. That’s when he noticed the strange scar circling her throat like a collar.

“She’s one of Franziska’s rescues, and the missing witness from the Blackquill case. A seasoned fighter both in and out of court.”

“Really? I didn’t know Von Karma was involved.”

“Ever since the crackdown on illegal entertainment began, they’ve had a flood of people, mainly children, come into Interpol custody. Of course, because she was seized by Interpol, I’ve had some trouble finding a residence for her. Typically, I would have offered her the spare bedroom but, she’s… afraid of Pess.”

“Afraid of your dog? He wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“She’s afraid of dogs, large ones especially.”

“She’s got a pit history!” Kay blurted, clasping a hand over her mouth.

“Oh.”

“As you can see, it’s detrimental to her health for her to live with us, considering her history. Pess is currently boarded for his own safety, but it would be in his best interest to relocate Doctor Cykes as quickly as possible.”

“There’s the back room of the office. It wouldn’t be ideal permanently, but it would let you bring Pess home, and it’d give her plenty of space.”

“What do you think, Athena? Would you like to go with Mr. Wright in a few weeks?”

She wouldn’t look up at him, but bowed her head even more. “Of course, sir.”

Phoenix knelt down to her hidden height. “Well, I’m excited to work with you, Athena. My daughter, Trucy, is so excited to meet you.”

Her head sunk even further into her shoulders, if that was even possible, and spoke in a hushed, rushed voice. “I won’t let you down. I’ll make you see my worth, sir.” Finally, she looked up at him. “You won’t regret me.”

“Oh… Athena, why would I regret you? You’re a promising young lawyer.”

Edgeworth’s face crinkled as Athena took a few steps back. “When Franziska found her…” He gestured for Athena to step behind him. “She came from human trafficking, Wright.”

“...oh.”

“I’ll do anything you say, Boss, anything at all, in fact, I’ll-”

“Cease your rambling, Athena. You’re worth more than that.”“Yes, sir, yes, sir, I’m sorry, sir.” Athena’s voice was growing louder, but her words were becoming faster.

“Kay? I… think Athena has had enough for one day. Help her get somewhere quiet, would you?”

“Of course!” Kay held out one arm towards Athena, and the young lady had instantly darted into her arms before they exited the room.

“Her abusers were mostly male, so it’s been a pain getting her to open back up.”

“How… how long-?”

“Since the incident, it seems. Our investigation into how she got there is ongoing. But Athena, and her special power, will be ready for you in time. She’s recovered vastly in the past week or so, and Kay thinks that one experience will cause the dominos to fall and for her to show her true self. She has an astounding temperament, Wright. I’ve no doubt that she’ll be a force to be reckoned with once she comes out of this state of extreme self-preservation.”

~~~~

December 19th, 2027

3:30pm

Wright Anything Agency

~~~~

She was sitting there, watching the world go by below. Apollo hadn’t wanted to talk to her, and the Boss had essentially just let her be.

This time, Apollo hadn’t apologized. It was their first day after being discharged (excluding their little escapade the first morning of Juniper’s trial,) and she already knew he wasn’t going home with her.

The lease was in his name, so it was only a matter of time before she was in the shelter. Edgeworth would try to take her in again, but she couldn’t do that to him. Not again.

Not to poor Pess.

She’d been so stupid.

Stupid to believe someone would truly love her.

Stupid to believe everyone would trust her.

In this Dark Age, of course everyone was looking out for themselves. No one was willing to just go along, not without a price.

She tasted the blood already. The blood would never fall upon her hands or lips, but that didn’t stop the taste from rushing through. And honestly? She was overcome by the nostalgia of it. She looked forward to it, as much as one could without absolute psychopathy.

She ripped off her jacket and discarded it to the floor. The cuffs, warm from body heat and the space heater running nearby, glistened with a threat newly realized. The mark was well concealed, less she go feral.

Perhaps she should take the risk, health-wise and social-wise, and look for ways to get blood back in her diet.

What can she do? Old habits die hard. She was already legally insane, so she could freely blame that little tidbit. Of course, at the rate things were deteriorating, she may not have a chance to blame.

She’d nearly finished it off many times, stopped only by the coexistence of hope and fear. The hope was quickly dying, and the fear was rapidly consuming it. And she cared too much for the fear than to discard it to be trod on like the jacket.

Vivid as some parts were, recollection was denied. As much as fear and sorrow strangled her, the reasons why were lost. The reasons why she knew things that weren’t hers to know, the reason for the silver streaking through the lower layers of her hair when she had the burning feeling it wasn’t always so…

And those fuzzy memories mess with her temper.

“Daddy! Thena! We’re home!” A young magician burst through the door, ending her haunting.

Athena gathered the jacket from the floor, before one of the security guards passed by and called Fulbright on her for noncompliance… again. “Afternoon, Trucy! How was school?”

“School. I like being home with you, Daddy and Polly more. I can practice my magic here!” Trucy shrugged. “You warm, Thena? You can take your jacket off, there’s no one here but us.” She flashed a grin and bounced on her toes. “And I’m not going to call the cops on you!”

“Thank you, Trucy. But I’m good, I was just… thinking. How was the weather, Apollo?”

“Not bad, gonna investigate more later. Got a few interesting leads, a few people willing to talk. Things better done covert and solo.”

“I see. That’s good at least. I shouldn’t expect you for dinner?” She unconsciously dipped her head away from him at the mention of dinner. He hadn’t even come home to sleep since Clay passed. Why would he bother to have a meal in her presence?

He never outright said it, but the reason was not because of Clay, it was because she lived there too… for the time being.

“Can’t. Crematory.”

“I… didn’t realize that was today. I’m sorry.” It hurt, hurt deep inside. She knew in her heart of hearts that he’d scheduled the appointment during the dinner hours for the sole purpose of ignoring her.

“It’s alright.” She couldn’t tell if that was genuine. “We’ve both been busy.”

All she could do was nod and burst out her suspicions. Last thing she wanted was yet another fight with him. The last thing she wanted was his anger.

He heard that she wouldn’t respond. There was no way she could edge herself back in, he was just too stubborn.

She could only watch as he approached their boss with one eye, almost no exposed skin and a body full of business. “Sorry. But I’ll be taking a leave of absence.”

“Wait! What do you mean by a ‘leave’?!” A-Apollo? No… please… please no…

Her boss’ brow furrowed. “Can you at least give me a reason why?”

The expression in her beloved’s eyes didn’t change. He was still focused on something far beyond them. “I can only say… that this is something I must settle on my own.”

Before she could process what he said, he had left and shut the door behind him.

When it finally made sense to her brain, a full five seconds after he left, she bolted out the door behind him. “Apollo, wait!”

Unlike his previous announcement, she realized she’d made a mistake instantly. And before she could talk sense into either her or him, she had been knocked backward from the force of his hand against her neck, and had slammed into a table nearby.

The shooting pain was just below her shoulder. The way Apollo looked at her before running off, with fear and uncertainty, she knew everything was already falling apart. She gathered herself back up, bit back her tears and re-entered the Agency. This death was ugly, and despite what she’d experienced, it was kindest to finish it off while the wound was fresh. “If we’re going to solve this…” She threw her head up in the air, once more flashing the odd, thin scar circling her neck as if it threatened to suffocate her. “Then there’s something I’m afraid I must tell you, Boss. A… confession, of sorts.”

No turning back now, but the beast just needs to die.

Her boss, obviously immensely bothered by Apollo’s odd and quick departure, bit into his frown. “Of course, Athena. What’s on your mind?”

A heavy sigh escaped her. “I’m sorry to tell you this, but, well…” She threw herself around, back facing towards him, as Uncle Simon always did. If her uncle really was the only dependable entity, she may as well lean into his mannerisms.

“I’m not Athena Cykes.”

#ace attorney #athena cykes #fanfiction #apollo justice #booksivewritten #a man named terran #athenacykes #dual destinies #ashes remain #ashes remain amnt #completed fanfiction #completed fic #slight song references #tw trafficking mention #justicykes

1 note · View note

divinitysheart · 1 year

Text

REX AND JIN'S DYNAMIC EXPLANATION - FROM REX'S SIDE PT1 P2 COMING SOON

TW LONG POST

His first encounter with Jin is when he's recruited specifically due to having been from Leftheria. And this is where Malos tests Rex's skills to see if he can handle the job due to Nia's commentary at the time. Jin doesn't truly say much here and nothing truly happens until they discover the capsule of the AEGIS in the ship. Because Rex accidentally resonates with her by touching her sword.

This is the first major even between Rex and Jin because Jin stabs Rex right through the chest if not HIS HEART in a speed about as fast as light if not faster. And says, and I quotes,

" Don't take it personally. It's an act of mercy. At least you won't be alive to see what's coming. "

Now while at this moment, Rex is pretty much seconds away from death and likely is developing a form of hatred for Jin you may think, but that's not the first thing Rex thinks of in my interpretation. He's more so confused as to what he means, he doesn't understand Jin because he's never been around someone like him in his youth. Sure anger is quick to form, but I feel like in this moment Rex was far more worried about what may happen to his family and who's going to provide for them when he's DEAD.

But then, because of his resonation with the AEGIS, or the person who goes by the name PYRA, she gives half of her core crystal to him in which brings him right back to life, but in return he has to take her to ELYUSIM which is up in the World Tree.

( The wound scarred but it's not visible until after the events of the World Tree. )

The next event that's heavily significant between Rex and Jin is what happens in Temperantia. Because this is where Rex gets a bit more of a glimpse of Jin as a person. Because MYTHRA, the other half of the AEGIS which can switch out with PYRA physically at any time mentions their past and how Jin is standing with the man that they had all fought against almost 500 years prior to current time, and Rex gets confused, because he knows that means that something definitely had to have happened, but he knows better than to poke MYTHRA about the past when it's not something she brings up herself. And Jin's response to Mythra's question is.

" I realized he had the right of it. That's all "

In which is true, but there's more to it, but I'll elaborate Jin's side on another post. And on top of that it's revealed he's a blade too, in fact one of the strongest of his time until TORNA sunk into the cloud sea. In which Mythra caused on accident due to her LACK OF CONTROL on her powers and her poor bond with Addam, her driver of the time because he wasn't able to use her power efficiently.

Then Mythra says this, in which makes Rex all the more curious about Jin,

" There were none stronger... yet none kinder, either. And no one who HATED TO FIGHT MORE THAN HIM. Why Jin, what changed?! "

After this and a few other dialogue, the fight commences and the end of the fight scene is when Jin does something that makes Rex begin to feel a hatred towards him for. He kills Fan La Norne, someone who's been nothing but kind to him and his friends, so in the moment he doesn't think about what Jin says, but afterwords he does and he's now getting even more confused.

" Blades are granted phenomenal power from our creator, yet we are doomed to never remember. Why?! The accumulation of memories is what allows mankind, no, all life to grow, change, evolve. But Blades are fleeting, when we return to our core our memories are lost. Our growth snatched away forever. "

AND BASICALLY WHAT HE CONTINUES ON TO SAY IS:

It's unfair how humans get to remember and control when a blade can be born, especially because it's Blades who imbody the world in his eyes. He's specifically talking about how Blade's do not get to choose things for themselves and are often mistreated. Which is an issue you can see being implied within Tantal the most with the black market and a lot of other dark things such as trafficking of blades and MORE. Because Jin isn't wrong in his view, because Blades are truly treated less than human on quite a few occasions. And the darker themes are heavily implied with Tantal, you just have to pay attention to the details. Because while it takes time, Rex does realize that BLADES HAVE NEVER BEEN ALLOWED TO HAVE CULTURE. And he does very much make it his job to get Blades their own rights and protections as he grows older because he refuses to let stuff such as this keep going on without punishment. Because even if Jin was his still his enemy in the end, he knows Jin was also right about quite a lot of things.

This is only like half of it, but I'm going to have to cut it off for now because wow this is a lot to write.

#❂ golden heart ❂ rex #♕ paragon of torna ♕ jin #✦ resting point ✦ ooc #tw trafficking mention #tw fictional racism #( it's more so implied rather than explicitly stated )#tw death mention #( tl:dr - jin and rex have a very complicated enemy/friend type of dynamic because they see the world from different lenses and experiences #basically )

0 notes

crystaledhearts · 2 days

Note

tw: oea mention of course (trafficking mention tbmc mention)

shoutout to every oea survivor who's abuse is seen as "less extreme" or "less deserving" of being under the label or who's type of abuse isn't talked about as much in oea spaces. oea isn't just sex trafficking and programming and i need people to start remembering that

-⚠️(☎️)

^^^^^^^^^^

THIS

#☎️#anti endo #ramcoa #ramcoa survivor #tbmc did #tbmc survivor #hc did #programmed did #programming survivor #tw tbmc #tbmc #tw trafficking mention

5 notes · View notes

lucrezianoin · 8 months

Text

There are three instances in game where astarion calls himself a prostitute and reveals he think is himself as one

1) if you don't romance him and take him to the twin drows he will say "never thought I'd see myself on the paying end of a brothel"

2) if you romance and you go to the twin drows in the brothel post final quest, you can ask to hire one of them, he'll say "You have a type don't you? Elven prostitutes, again?" again refers to himself

3) if you play as Astarion, when you meet the drows at the brothel the first option in the dialogue is telling them "i was in a similar situation as yours". The drow man asks him how it was, and Astarion can answer in four ways, basically (from memory) "i did what i did to survive" /"it was not consensual for me, but you seem to want to be here" /"i prefer not to remember" /"horrible and horrifying".

#Astarion #Baldur's gate 3 #Spoilers #tw sa mention #tw sex trafficking #meta

2K notes · View notes

deadsetobsessions · 3 months

Text

Spider in Gotham AU- Pt.2

[Pt.1]

Peter’s no stranger to memories that comes as nightmares. There’s something different to them, the taste of terror that’s tinged with a feeling of “that’s happened.”

Flashes of Aunt May, dying as he stood next to her while choosing the city over her? Old hat. Inky darkness surrounding MJ falling as Peter reached for her, over and over again? Been there, seen that, didn’t even get a sick scar out of it. Racing against the clock to defeat some bad guy or an unknown threat? That’s his Thursday.

But this?

This isn’t his. It’s real, Peter could tell that much. Sure, it’s wrapped up in silk hisses and heart crushing terror, but Peter could always tell whether a nightmare was a nightmare or whether it was a memory.

This was a memory. Not his. His. It’s complicated.

“Your father, papito, he-,”

Then, it’d be the ruffle of his hair, brown eyes. It reminded him of his mom. But the crease of these eyes were different. Hardened, mean. Even towards him.

“Well, he said no, but I knew what he really wanted.”

The base of Peter’s neck always crawled when he remembered that line. His spider-sense warned him that whatever he’s remembering, he would not like.

“Ey, Peter.”

“Huh?” Peter blinked, looking up from where his arms were elbow deep in wires.

“Don’cha need gloves with that?” Frank asked, munching on some jerky. They were sitting in the living room, repairing a TV and a washer Frank had somehow managed to lug back to the apartment. It’s a toss up between Frank’s network of orphans (Peter included), street rats (these things are not mutually inclusive), or his own slightly higher than average strength. Not that they needed to thrift broken things, considering Peter’s funneling money from offshore bank accounts belonging to this America’s 1%. They just made it so easy! He and Ned had been hacking into government bases in middle school back on his world. This world? Not even a challenge. Regardless, this was kind of like… Frank’s version of those fancy sensory boxes for Peter.

“Oh, no. It’s not plugged in, see?”

“How’re ya gunna know it works then?”

“Plug it in after I’m done. Turn it off and on, you know?”

Frank stared at him, then rolled his eyes towards the ceiling.

“If you burn down that portion of the house, at least we’ll be warm for a bit.”

“Thanks. Your confidence in me is astounding.”

“You talk like an old man.”

“I do not! Excuse you! If I’m old, you’re the expired knock off cup ramen in the back of a convenience store!”

“Yo, shrimpy, that’s rude, ya hear?” Frank snickered, impressed at the quip. The Alley kid turned brother stood up to plop next to Peter.

“So… you gonna go…?” Frank made a whooshing sound and held his hand in a web shooter position.

“Tonight? Prolly. Anything I should look out for?”

“You’re gunna get yourself killed, but yeah, heard the gang’s back up north.”

Peter flashed a smile, dimples coming out. “I’ll try not to. Thanks, Frank.”

“Anytime, Spidey.”

Frank, though little (to Peter), was a good friend. Then again, considering Peter saved his ass both in mask and out of it, it’s to be expected. One would think that after eight years of hiding his identity, Peter would be better at it. Then, he got punted into a different world and got made by a child.

To be fair, the circumstances all but screamed Parker Luck, so Peter’s not counting this instance.

See, the first few days of this sudden cohabitation, Peter had asked Frank to find them furniture. Both because he was getting real sick of eating on the floor and because Peter needed to fix his suit to match his much younger body. Then, once he readjusted the shrinking nanotech and the spider legs to fit him in a way that wouldn’t break him, Peter had promptly swung out of the building and went patrolling. He stuck with the wandering Frank, taking out muggers and robbers and everything in between and past that around the area where Frank is.

Looking back, Peter realized how lucky he was when he decided to go on the “helping joyride” at the beginning of the evening. His spider-sense activated way later in the night, the moment where he began seeing and sensing the cameras that kept pointing towards him. He ducked and dodged out of the way, and eventually, the feeling left. Somebody was watching. And he doesn’t know where they stood on the moral side of things.

Anyways, it happened after three weeks and a half of going out and just… settling into life in Gotham. He had already been struggling to find a way home, scouring the libraries around Gotham on any subject that would aid in his multiversal travel. Peter would like to know which emo kid named this city.

Eventually, Parker Luck decided to strike once more.

“Get back, freak!” The lady brandished a wicked knife.

Talk about deja vu.

“Oh no! Knives! My greatest weakness!” Spider-Man yelled, sticking to the shadowed windows as he let his voice echo in the alley. Gotham had a lot of nice hiding places. Spider-man dropped down on her head like a bat out of hell and webbed the knife out of her hands. He webbed the mugger up onto the alleyway above normal reach, and told the man to call the police.

Frank screamed, just as Spider-man wrapped it up, loud enough to reach his enhanced hearing.

“Wait-!” The man tried to stop him, but Peter, small, trained, and having readjusted his reach, slipped away.

“What’s your name?!” The guy he saved yelled at his back.

Spider-man, distracted, yelled back, “SPIDEY!”

He shot webs upwards and used them to slingshot his way towards where Frank was. And… car! Peter used his webs to swing up, up, and let himself fall to gain momentum. At the last moment, Peter shot a web to the top of the car and pulled himself to it.

Shit, shit, shit. He’s stupidly attached to the kid, and he was stupid enough to let Frank go out into Gotham looking both well-fed and well clothed.

The world slowed as he locked eyes with a terrified Frank, who was getting dragged into a car.

The world narrowed to speed and Spider-Man landed on top of the car roof, sweeping his leg out and thankfully remembering his much shorter reach. His foot collided with the kidnapper’s face with the equivalent force of a grown up, slightly annoyed Peter Parker who’s letting his strength go a bit unchecked. Basically, they went flying, blood spewing out of the undoubtedly broken nose Spider-Man had just given them.

Standing on business, the shorter webster promptly flipped down wards as he all but glued the would-be kidnapper to the curb.

“You alright?”

“You’re- You’re that new mask.” Frank whispered, scuttling away from the car where he’d been dropped.

“Yeah, man. You okay?” His voice modulator came in clutch.

“Fuck. Fuck, I gotta-” Frank stumbled. The kid looked like he was one bad break away from snapping. Peter hated it when kids got that terrified look on their faces, it reminded him of himself, helpless as Ben bled out because they should never have to fear something that much.

Something’s wrong, though. As much as Peter wished otherwise, Frank was a Gotham bred and true alley kid, through and through. These kids don’t spook easily. Peter already stopped a couple of kidnappings and at least two of the kids had yelled at him to stay out of the way before unloading a rain of nut kicks on their kidnappers that left Peter wincing for days in sympathy. Frank being this spooked? Something’s going on.

“Woah, easy there, I’m not gonna hurt you,”

Frank shot him a half hysterical, half condescending look. Yeah, that’s more like it.

“Ob-obviously. I have to go before more of them comes,” Frank muttered.

“More of them? You know what they want?”

Frank stared at him, looking up and down at his blue, red, and gold ensemble.

“I can help,” Peter promised.

“What’re your thoughts on metas?”

Suspicious.

“Uh, they’re fine? Depends on the person, why?”

Frank sighed. The skinny teenager, barely 14, tugged at his hair. “They’re traffickers. Meta kids, mostly, so the Bats don’t do nothing. I- uh, I got caught.” He held up a thin wrist, showing Peter his new accessorie, a think metal bracelet that was beeping red.

Peter cursed in his head. Fuck, of course he’d stumble into a-

“Caught? You’re a meta?”

Frank nodded. “Strength. This is an inhibitor, illegal kind, you know?”

Well, that explained how he got all of those furniture without struggle.

“Right. Hey, don’t stress, kid, I’m a meta too.”

Frank blinked.

“What?”

Peter walked up the side of the car and did jazz hands.

“You’re a meta?! But- but you’re a mask operating in Gotham!”

“Yeah…? Is that weird?”

Before Frank could reply, Peter’s sense screamed and Spider-Man shoved Frank away from the spray of bullets.

“Move, Frank!”

Peter flipped away, vaguely aware of Frank’s gaping realization. He took down the shooters in quick succession, stopping the speeding car with his bare hands and some webs.

“Shooters, no shooting!” He yelled, liberally applying force he tended to keep under wraps. Frank was like a brother to him, and there is no universe where Peter Parker would hold back when his family was in danger.

When he got back to Frank, who had oddly stayed instead of running, Peter found out why the kid stayed.

“Peter?!” Frank hissed lowly, looking more pissed off than terrified. “Are you fucking insane?! Why are you running ‘round as a mask?!”

“Shhh!” Shit, he got made. “Come on, get back to the apartment and we can talk there. I’ll get rid of this-”

Peter casually snapped the bracelet in half, tearing the tracker out, and tucked it away to study later.

“Fuckin’- shit, fine, but you’re explaining everything, motherfucker!”

They split, Peter guessing correctly that he was in another lecture of a lifetime.

——

“Your vigilante name is Spiderman?”

“Hey, I can hear you say it without the hyphen! There’s a hyphen in there!”

“You’re not a man! You’re a twerp!”

“I’ll show you twerp, you-”

Five minutes of tussling later, in which Peter did not try to bite Frank’s arm off, thank you very much, Frank leaned back on the couch.

“Besides. People in the streets are calling you Spidey, anyways.”

“Spidey?”

“Some dude you saved from a mugging said you told him.”

Peter slammed his head on the floor where he was laying face down.

“Ughhhh.”

——

“He could have been great. I saw his potential.”

Anger. But he shouldn’t be afraid. The woman loved him.

“Hey, Peter. You’re up here again.”

“Hi.” Peter stayed curled up. His mind had refused him sleep for the last three nights, causing dark circles to appear underneath his eyes. The memories of what he assumed to be this world’s Peter was merging with his. What he’d seen so far did not fill him with confidence of a happy childhood. Flashes of wielding weapons, the sterile smell of a metal dissection table, and hundreds and hundreds of spiders crawling over him, getting startled into biting down. Plus, the stress of tracking down the meta trafficking circles in Gotham was no joke. He doesn’t know Gotham nearly as well as he knew New York, and he had to be extra careful running around and trying to catch every bit of the circle before making any moves. Frank was helping with his network of homeless Meta kids, but the traffickers were everywhere except for Crime Alley.

He should be dead. They sold his body to an organ harvester who dumped his venom filled corpse on the side of Gotham. At least he didn’t have to worry about killing his alternate version.

“Everything all right?” Red Robin clambered down to sit next to him, cowl hiding the concerned scrunch of his brow. He’s never seen Peter like this.

Peter grumbled, staring down at another alleyway. He knows his alternate died. His shit excuse for another sold his body to an organ harvester, when he seized on the operating table, who dumped his venom filled corpse on the side of Gotham. At least he didn’t have to worry about killing his alternate version. He does, however, have to worry about missing vital organs.

“I… remembered something.” Peter remembered a lot of things. And pretty much none of them were good. This Peter suffered a lot in his short life.

Red Robin nodded. The issue of Peter’s spotty memories had come up in their discussions over the past month.

“Ah. Something unpleasant?”

Peter thought back to the voice who, despite all of the other, highly traumatic memories, haunted his brain like nothing else.

“He didn’t live up to it. He refused to kill. So I made the decision for him.”

“Yeah. Not for me, but unpleasant that I know about it.”

“Yeah, I get that. You wanna talk about it?” Peter hid a small smile. Even though Red Robin kept his tone light, the concern still bled through. Warm. It made Peter feel warm. Even if it appeared that the Bats don’t really care about the trafficked meta kids… maybe Red Robin would come save normal kid Peter if he got kidnapped. A backup plan to consider. For now…

“Sure,” he said. Red Robin waited patiently.

“I think, I remember someone. Maybe, maybe my…” Peter grimaced. “My mom? She… told me something. And uh, I think I’maproductofrape.”

“Oh,” Red Robin said, so awkwardly that Peter had to crack a small smile despite the gravity of the topic. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. Me too. Not myself, but for…” Peter waved a hand. “You know.”

“Yeah.”

“She wasn’t a good person,” Peter whispered and hated how he missed the browns of her eyes- her middle name was Marie, and god, Peter wished he hadn’t known that because he gets why her eyes reminded him so much of his own mother- and she besmirched everything Mary Parker stood for.

“You have our combined potential, Peter. Make sure not to be like him too much and live up to it, papito.”

“It’s okay, to love her even if she hurt other people,” Red Robin said, gently ruffling his greasy hair. Peter’s spidey-sense tingled and he ducked away. Red Robin withdrew his hand. “Because you can’t really help that. Trust me, I’ve tried. You just have to make sure they don’t get the chance to do what they did again.”

Cold, cold voices and his voice gave out from screaming. “You really are your father’s son. Never being able to do what’s necessary.”

And Peter wondered what happened to Red Robin and who hurt him. Peter would just like to talk. Red Robin reminded him of himself, way back when being Spider-Man meant finding out Harry became Green Goblin. Pained. Tired.

“Yeah,” Peter agreed. But that’s not really a problem, considering the last thing the organ harvester said before dumping him in an alley. “She’s dead in a ditch in Siberia or something. I’m not really worried she’ll do it again.”

“Uh.”

“It’s cool,”

“Right. Have you… remembered your dad?”

“Yeah. He’s in Gotham,” Peter unfurled a little.

“You want help tracking him down? I’m good at that kind of thing.”

Peter glanced at Red Robin. “I think you just admitted to being a stalker.”

“Vigilante,” Red Robin shrugged, like it explained everything. And yeah, it kind of did. Peter snorted.

“Nah, it’s okay. I don’t want to meet him anyways.”

“Why not?”

“He doesn’t know about me,” Peter ticked off his fingers. “I’m a literal walking, talking, breathing reminder of his trauma. And I don’t need a dad.”

Red Robin looked at him silently. Peter doesn’t think about it.

He never wanted to see his parents suffer. An alternate version of his dad, hurt so irrevocably by an alternate version of his mom?

Peter hated that this Catalina dirtied his mother’s name, and went against the most fundamental parts of what the spider symbol was meant for. And considering he’s been doing this longer than her, he had first dibs on defining it. He’ll look after his dad, as long as he’s stuck in Gotham. It’s only right.

“His name? Oh, my son, it’s Richard Grayson.”

——

Peter, who Trusts his instincts: no head rubs?? awwwww

Tim, who’s been trying to get a dna sample for the last month: how does he keep evading me?? He must be a genius or a spy or- *spirals down the conspiracy board*

——

Tim: I’ve connected the dots!

Peter: you’ve connected jack shit

——

Listen, the moment I learned Catalina Flores’ middle name, the pieces clicked, okay? Like legos. It’s like, former FBI agent in this one and former CIA agent in Peter’s home universe? Wow. Middle name Marie? Mary Parker? Incredible. Spider themes run in the blood apparently?? They both have brown eyes!! Trying to do good with no qualms about murder!! (I’m assuming since Mary Parker was SHIELD and I don’t think SHIELD cared much for the sanctity of human life if it threatened the country or something)

#tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon #Peter Parker #I think you know who his mom is #nightwing #batman #red robin #Frank the Crime Alley kid #Tim Drake #Tw: mentions of torture #Tw: human experimentation #bruce wayne #dick Grayson #gotham #Tw: mentions of human trafficking #Catalina Marie Flores #tarantula #Spider in Gotham AU

449 notes · View notes

moistrodent · 2 months

Text

I love how Hazbin Hotel brushed over Angel Dust’s drug use, because in the eyes of the show drug use isn’t something very traumatic, leads to much more vulnerable to human and sex trafficking, SA, and abusive relationships. Drug use is very complicated but in Hazbin Hotel Angel Dust’s drug problem is mentioned like…four times and one of those three times was a fucking joke. Drug use is often very misrepresented in media, also being an addict doesn’t make you a bad person, drug use shouldn't be criminalised (it makes it much harder to seek help), and rehab shouldn’t expensive as fuck. And also Angel Dust’s name? Weird as shit. That’s like naming your OC crack. It’s treating Angel Dust like he’s only his addiction wich is really horrible representation for obvious reasons. Vivziepop does not know how to represent serious topics, she either uses it for fetish bait or an actual literal joke. Also his name? Doesn’t make any sense. The effects of PCP were discovered over ten years after Angel Dust canonically died. It’s so clear Vivzepop didn’t do any research on the topic she’s trying to represent, it takes five seconds to google this shit.

#tw drugs #tw drug use #tw sa #tw sa mention #tw abuse #tw human trafficking #tw sex trafficking #anti hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel critique #anti vivziepop #vivziepop critical #vivziepop criticism #txt post #tw swearing #tw fetishization

320 notes · View notes

furiousgoldfish · 7 months

Text

I'm going to sit down and try to explain this with patience, to everyone who still thinks calling out narcissistic abuse is 'ableist' or 'dehumanizing to the narcissists', and that abuse is something we're all equally capable of.

I don't think you understand what narcissistic abuse is, or how it differs from the other kinds of abuse. We can agree that all and any abuse is damaging, traumatic and scarring, but narcissistic abuse is so extremely pervasive, hidden, strategic and unbelievable, to the point where I can't honestly tell it's something any regular human would be capable of. And even more than this, the survivors of this particular type of abuse have found it extremely, extremely difficult to figure out they've been abused, even when they've been put through extreme, devastating, and absolutely dehumanizing scenarios. Realizing that your loved one is a narcissist requires your entire world to break down, and every piece of your heart shatters in the realization, and it takes months, even years to accept it.

The only way we can possibly figure it out is to connect the patterns. And patterns of the narcissistic abuse are focused on erasing one's own sense of self, one's perspective and ultimately, complete control over someone's emotions and behaviours. This is often done from early on, the grooming process starts at age zero, your value, worth and usefulness is determined by them, and you cannot wrangle yourself free from it on your own, not without someone confirming to you that you've been held captive, that your free will has been taken a long time ago.

Unfortunately, I have to give some examples, because I don't think it can be explained otherwise. When I was 2 years old, a narcissistic person found it a nuisance to watch over me, and they beat me up every time I disobeyed. I was a toddler. Then they proceeded to convince me that I was a demon, and would burn in hell regardless of what I do for the rest of my life. I've been brainwashed by this person to believe I was not a human being, had no human rights, that it was correct and regular for me to be locked up, beaten, and that it was my fault every single time, even when I did all that was asked of me. This person then had me comfort them after they would beat me, because it was a stressful experience for them. I wasn't allowed to cry. I would be beaten for making a face expression they didn't like. It was random and unexplainable.

Another narcissistic person created a game where they would give me wrong instructions for a task, then torture me when I did exactly as they instructed me to. It got to a point where I would beg them to tell me what to do correctly, and they would respond with a laughing 'you should be old enough to know this' and they would be even happier to beat me up and scream at me for getting it wrong. This person not only threatened to kill me regularly, but often made me believe I was in my last few seconds of life, putting me in position where I believed I was about to die. They forced me to work for them in unsafe conditions, heavy physical jobs, where I was not allowed to say I'm tired, not allowed to cry, and even after I'd do everything, they would still tell me I didn't deserve to eat. I was a child. I didn't think for a second I was being abused. I was already brainwashed to believe that everyone else had it worse, and that I was lucky.

I had no identity besides existing for them, I had no free will except to try and make myself into something they could use, and if I didn't do a good enough job, I'd be ostracized. They loved beating me, screaming at me and making me cry, and then they'd leave me in a room crying without being allowed to make any noise, while they laughed in the room next to me, as a family, loudly so I could hear what a great time they were having. They would treat other children gently in front of me in order to try and make me jealous. They would revise every part of what they did to me if I ever tried to bring it up. I wasn't allowed my own perspective, opinion, or complaint. I wasn't even allowed to remember the abuse correctly. I would be locked in a room and questioned and punished if my opinions weren't to their liking.

I don't believe this is something anyone is capable of doing. I don't believe anyone of us is capable of torturing a kid until the kid begs to be killed. I don't believe most of us are capable of erasing a child's point of view, their reality, their humanity to the point where the child is forced to live a life where they will either comply or be killed, and they will be tortured no matter what. This isn't a regular thing that a person can easily do.

Luckily, us who have been through this, have noticed that there is a specific pattern to their behaviour. That they use almost identical phrases with which their invoke guilt, fear and hopelessness. That they can go frighteningly fast from rage to laughter to acting hurt. That they enforce their will over ours with a specific type of terror that triggers both our survival instincts and our compassion and shame. That we've been groomed by them in an almost identical way - to not believe that we're allowed our own feelings, memories, opinions, point of view, or freedom. That we have learned to exist only to be an extension of them.

We also all noticed that we're all absolutely, beyond terrified of them, and that we don't feel we're allowed to say it, or think it. That we're taught by terror to keep believing that they're good people, that they do none of it on purpose, not even the most extreme, insane, egregious abuse. That they will go to any length, even committing more atrocities, to escape accountability. That they use tactics of darvo, gaslighting, double-bind, planting insecurities, triangulating, future faking, discarding, love bombing, mirroring, smear campaigns, projection, scapegoating, silencing, throwing tantrums, victim playing, like it's in their second nature. That they're genuinely, absolutely terrifying and almost unreal in how far they're capable of going. And most of all, that they are dangerous, and capable of completely turning another human being into their puppet, and never think for a second that it might be wrong. To them, we are nothing more but toys to manipulate, control, and discard. We are disposable. There is no limit to what they can do to us, because to them, we are not alive. They would do to us what normal people wouldn't do to a corpse. And they feel superior for it.

People abused by narcissists from early age are likely to develop the most complex and extreme disorders, complex ptsd and dissociative identity disorder being some of them, because that's what it takes to survive being a child and existing next to a narcissist. This means that small children need to be shattered in pieces in order to please the narcissist. Others that are very common are eating disorders, anxiety, depression, paranoia, avoidant personality disorder, panic disorder, and compulsions to cater to everyone's needs, to the point of our own destruction. This is what they make of us, on purpose, in order for us to be of use to them. And they will forever insist it's their right.

When I'm saying the word 'narcissist', I am not referring to 'anyone diagnosed with npd', I am referring to a person who will do this to a child, and insist on doing it for the rest of the child's life. I am writing it because I don't want children to have to live like this forever. I am not aiming to dehumanize the narcissist, their actions show who they are, I am saying, be careful and aware that this person will dehumanize you. That you are disposable to them. That making you feel good in order for you to like them, is a game to them, and one they're very good at. That playing the victim at you and demanding justice, will easily manipulate you into standing against the victims of abuse and talking down to them for 'dehumanizing their abusers', and being 'ableist to the npd', after being tortured past the point of return by those people.

A lot of us are permanently damaged by what's been done to us. We are not asking for justice. We're not asking for revenge. We are asking to be safe. We're asking for this to stop. We're asking for children not to be left alone with people who are dangerous to this level. We're asking you to understand that a narcissist left alone with a child means a child in danger.

It's common to not be aware just how bad it can go, because we think that most humans know not to torture a child. We believe that nobody would do things to children that narcissists do. If you read the stories of the survivors, you'll find out what actually happens behind closed doors. The themes of torture, dehumanization, sexual abuse, brainwashing, violence, and extreme cruelty are common, even towards toddlers.

I need you to not attack those children when they grow up and say they no longer want to be around narcissists. I need you to understand that they know what they're talking about when they say it's not safe, that they want to be protected. The society already failed to protect them at their most vulnerable, and they had to make it alive by their wits alone. And now you won't even let them speak without attacking them? It's inexcusable.

If you want to know about the narcissists, read what their victims have gone through. Then make a judgment on whether we're allowed to speak, and whether it's worth warning others to hold caution. I've heard and read stories of narcissistic parents sex-trafficking their own child, holding them captive and locked up and convincing them it's right to do this, using brutal punishments to 'train' them into inhumane slave-like behaviour, keeping the children in state so terrified the children wished they were dead. And in all those cases, they still convinced the children to love their parents, and to never blame them for any kind of abuse. Yes, even in the sex-trafficking cases.

Fighting for those children to realize that they didn't deserve that, is the only correct thing to do. Fighting to help them realize they're in danger, and that they deserve safely, it's not only right but extremely necessary, it's what we all should be putting all of our energy into.

Wanting to keep others safe will never be wrong. Wanting to protect those who still have their identity, their sense of self, their undamaged humanity, their free will and their point of view, that's worth fighting for! And above all, those who already lost it all, need to be protected. We cannot allow for already badly wounded people to be dehumanized over and over again. Nobody deserves that.

#narcissistic abuse #tw child abuse #tw child trafficking mention #narcissistic parents #toxic parents #psychological abuse #taking children's identity and self perception #to train them into personal toys and disposable puppets #while neglecting the children to the point where children don't realize they have the right to feelings #or even to exist without the parent's approval #devastating abuse #abuse

272 notes · View notes