#graphic descriptions of abuse

[eri-pl]

Ar-Pharazôn's mother

(Lady not-appearing-in-the-canon*, I'll probably devise a name for her soon.)

(Late Numenor, but in terms of things explicitely mentioned we aren't going beyond speculated murder + some emotional abuse. Not a veeery long post, but long enough that it would get the cut even without the TWs.)

So, I was thinking about Pharazôn (as you do).

About how his father was a nasty, opinionated guy hating the Faithful and yet Pharazôn in his youth spent time with Amandil, Elendil, Miriel etc, in Andunie. Why? Who took him there, who let him?

Not his father, obviously, so I assume it must have been his mother. I don't think she was one of the Faithful (his dad probably wouldn't marry her in that case, also I think it would lead to Pharazôn being a better person… maybe?). But I think she was quite neutral on the Faithful-King's Men divide—as neutral as one can be—and was close friends with some of them, probably related to some, and keeping close ties with friends and family was important to her.

Technically Miriel (and, more distantly, amandil) was Gimilkhâd's (Pharazôn's father's) family, but knowing Tolkien's family trees (only first cousins are a clear "nope") I would assume his mother was also related to them somehow. Even if not, she clearly liked them enough to keep strong contacts.

And then she died. Yes, I think she died relatively early.

If she leaned (even socially) towards the Faithful, or simply grew old and Gimilkhâd wanted a younger wife… we're talking late Numenor. There were surely many plants and substances he could have used to make it look natural.

Or she may have died giving birth to a daughter (the daughters and sisters are rarely mentioned even if they exist), which would lead Pharazôn to dislike the idea of having kids in general. (I have some HCs about it but that's another thing).

Or, tbh, it may have been both.

Anyway she died and Gimilkhâd had nobody to stop him from "teaching" his son "proper Númenorean values". Which unfortunately stuck, even after Pharazôn left to Middle Earth to prove himself… I imagine Gimilkhâd as the kind of guy who is never satisfied with his son (think: Oazi to Zuko, kind of, but there's no Azula), and his own upbringing hadn't been great either (think: Azula). It was a whole chain of emotional abuse and expectations.

And then Pharazôn returned and his father was dead but at this point he had internalized enough of the legacy. He chose to make the memory of Gimilkhâd proud, or maybe to prove it wrong. Same thing, in the end.

But the friendships ignited by his mother remained alive until almost the end. Almost.

I wonder if Sauron, when he got to know Pharazôn better, slowly changed his voice, every day making it closer to Gimilkhâd's. OK, I do not wonder. He did. He absolutely did.

*btw Edennill, don't ever watch Monty Python, you'd hate it in more than one way. Probably. Anyway, I do reference it sometimes.

[thedollmakersmasterpiece]

The Doll Makers Masterpiece part ??

(post capture pre doll)

Masterlist Next part

Trigger warning: graphic descriptions of violence, torture, abuse, captivity, blood, self deprecation

(this is later in the story)

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Anya's chest heaved as she cowered against the wall, her tattered shirt soaked in her blood. Pierre's face was split into a horrific grin. “Excellent! A marked improvement! That brings us to sixteen hours! That's more than enough time!” He twirls the branding iron between his fingers, lost in thought. “Perhaps some training with a higher intensity…?”

“No!” Anya's voice cracks as she throws herself at his feet, tears streaming down her face. “P-please sir! I.. I'm at my limit!” her shaking fingers hike up her shirt revealing the angry and inflamed marks still lingering on her stomach. “I can't take anymore! Please!”

Pierre clicks his tongue, wrapping his gloved fingers in her hair as he inspects the marks. “Oh dear, What a disappointment.” He hisses between his teeth as he yanks her head up to meet his glare. “How can you ever expect to improve if you're just going to give up at the slightest sign of difficulty? And after all the effort I put into you?”

Fresh tears pour down Anya's cheeks, clearing trails in the dried blood. “Please sir! I.. I'm sorry! I'll do better! I'll BE better! I…!” She slams into the floor so violently she can taste blood before she even registers the pain.

“Shut up. Your whining is giving me a headache.” Pierre tightens his grip in her hair before grinding her face down into the concrete below. “If you weren't so utterly incompetent, we’d be done already! Instead, you make me waste my time teaching you something you should have mastered years ago!”

Anya screams as the branding iron is pressed into her back.“I.. I'm sorry! I…”

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Then do Better.” Pierre mocks as he twists the metal rod before pressing it down even harder. “And not only are you incompetent, but you're ungrateful too! Not once have you even thanked me for the hours of effort I've spent fixing your inadequacies!”

She can feel the hot metal melting past her skin, digging deeper and deeper into her muscle, the rod threatening to burn its way into her lungs. “Th-thank you sir!”

“Thank you for what?” The pressure on the back of her head increases to the point where she can feel her scull creaking in protest.

“Thank you for taking in a stupid, incompetent, brat like me! Th-thank you for putting up with my pointless whining and my idiotic questions! I'm sorry for being so ungrateful! Y-You deserve a more competent subject than me and I know that I'm only blessed with your tutelage because you haven't found a better option!”

The pressure on her skull lifts slightly as she feels him readjust his grip on her hair. “There we go~” she can hear the predatory grin in his voice even over the pounding in her ears. “You wouldn't get yourself into these situations if you just understood your place to begin with.”

She can feel chunks of her flesh tearing out with the rod as he tugs it free. “Now why don't you be a good girl and clean up the mess you've made?” the fingers leave her hair but she doesn't dare look up.

“When I come back, there better not be a single trace of any of this. Not on the floors, not on the walls, and most importantly…Not on you. Understood?”

Anya can't suppress a whimper as Pierre drags the tip of the rod along the marred flesh of her side. “Y-yes sir! Thank you sir! I’ll… I'll be ready for my lesson tomorrow!”

“Good.” Anya finches as the branding rod is cast into the corner, clattering against the stone tiles. “I hope by this point I don't need to show you where the cleaning supplies are”

“N-no sir!” The cleaning supplies are in the cabinet out in the hall. She's thankful most of her injuries are abdominal this time, wincing at the memory of dragging twisted legs down the hall.

She doesn't pick her head up off the floor until the sound of his footsteps fade. Sitting up slowly she takes stock of her body. She's covered in partially dried blood, her head is pounding, and residual burns and bruises litter her stomach. her fingers graze over them as she inspects herself causing little sparks of pain to shoot around inside her

She reaches around to feel her back, searching for the puncture. It's difficult to pinpoint givin the radiating pain and her tattered blood soaked shirt, but it's found suddenly when one of her fingers sinks inside her causing a flash of white hot pain.

She thinks she screams but she's not sure.

As the room stabilizes she takes a shaky breath, ever so gently pulling up her shirt. The strands of ruined fabric stick to her wounds and tug sorely. Fortunately it doesn't seem like to much has gone inside, but she has to get what did out before her body encases it

He fingers once again find the hole and she bites her lip, tasting more blood than she ought to. She's vaguely aware that her nose is leaking blood and a few of her teeth aren't as attached as they should be, but it doesn't matter, it's not a priority right now.

She carefully probes the injury until she catches the edge of the embedded fabric. Hissing in pain she loops the strand around her finger and tugs, slowly drawing it out of her flesh. It sloughs out with no more fanfare than a pained gasp.

She collapses back against the stone floor exhausted, the cool tile soothing against her heated skin.

Maybe she can rest her eyes for a minute before she drags herself out to the closet? Pierre shouldn't be back for a few hours so she should have time… God she needs some rest…

Her vision swims a bit as she looks up at the ceiling lights, head pounding. She must have lied down in one of the blood smears though because she can feel her hair getting slick and tacky.

A little nap should be fine right? He told her to heal and she needs energy for that! Maybe she'd be able to think about it more if the room would stop spinning… she's unconscious before she can give it another thought

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Masterlist Next part

[bardic-tales]

Tumblr Games: FF Edition: Six Sentences

Thank you so much for the tag, @sliceoflifeshepard. I loved your response to this.

Rules: Share six sentences of your recent work.

Tagging:

@watermeezer @nightingaleflowlibrary @megandaisy9 @themaradwrites

@serenofroses @kricketbee @pinkevilwriter @asirensrage

So, I have been working on short flash fictions for Whumptober. This is from the Trust Issues. This Sephiroth is the caregiver, and his future self is the whumper. This Sephiroth is a fragment attached to Bianca's soul and only exists for this event.

Content Warning: physical abuse, bruising and injury, graphic description of wounds

“Why are you doing this?” Bianca shied away from his hand, as her breath hammered in throat. Ugly marks ringed around her wrist: crimson against the delicate skin. The raw skin ached when it was touched, as small, bloody lines amalgamated with the dark purple bruises.

“I would never hurt you, Bia.” Sephiroth knelt before her. A forest green haze oscillated around him, raising up off of his shoulders like fine mist before twisting around before descending to rejoin the rest of the wispy veil that covered his body. "I'm not him."

[sunsetsmakemesad]

Lucky day is insane

[nonbinary-potatoes]

Having traumatised friends and watching them talk about their childhood with immense shock like

[milkywayscap-blog]

Tainted Waters

TRIGGER WARNINGS: SA, CHILD ABUSE, GORE, BLOOD, VIOLENCE, DOMESTIC ABUSE

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The life of Lucianus Amandus:

Infancy to early childhood:

Lucianus was always praised and adored as a child by his family, especially his mother. She viewed him as a blessing from the goddess of beauty, Venus. This became more apparent as he grew up. Although his older siblings and father also doted on him, his mother smothered him with attention every chance she got. Despite this, Lucianus loved his family's attention and cherished those moments. His father often took him to the beach near their village where they would name sea creatures and play in the water, which was Lucianus's favorite part of the day. He had grown an attachment to the sea and its many facets, the beach, anyone really, was a safe space for him.

Early childhood to mid-preteens:

Lucianus’ father had died in battle. He sobbed into his eldest brother’s arms as his other sibling simply patted his head as they stared sadly at their father’s grave. Their mother seemed the most affected by his death, though it wouldn’t seem to be the case as only a few months after she had met a new man and quickly married him. The siblings did not take a liking to the man, there was something off about him and his demeanor. Unfortunately, Lucianus’ eldest brother, Glacies, could not stay as he had to go fight in the war, though they wrote to each other very often. However, things were only doomed to get worse. His stepfather was a drunkard but a wealthy man. He would constantly find things or nitpick the two about. Achaea, the middle child, had enough of their stepfather and yelled at him, “Why the hell do you think you can dictate what we do!? You make it seem like we’re the problem when it’s just you.” But they would regret doing so. Their stepfather grabbed a knife from the table. Lucianus’ eyes widened as he stood frozen behind his sibling. A blood-curdling scream was let out as Achaea fell to the ground as they covered their face. The sound of something falling to the ground was muffled for Lucianus as he just stood there frozen in fear at his stepfather's bloody knife. His gaze fell to whatever fell to the ground... It was Achaea's eyes, the man had gouged out his older sibling's eyes. "How... How could you-" "Shut up. Just bandage them up before I give you the same treatment." The man said as he walked away, slamming the knife back onto the kitchen table. Lucianus hurried to Achaea as he helped them up and went to bandage their eyes. That was when his life took a drastic turn when his older sibling was blinded and almost fatally wounded by their stepfather.

Early teens to now:

Lucianus felt himself being tugged his begging and and pleading falling on deaf ears as he was tossed into the arms of an older man. "He's going to take care of you for the next few days, sweetie," His mother said in a soft tone as the unknown noble handed her a hefty pouch of gold coins. The next few days Lucianus wished he could wipe from his memory. The older man used him like a doll pushing, pulling, and contorting his body to fit the unknown man's pleasures and desires. Lucianus felt like a passenger to all of the events and actions that took place over those few days feeling his body be touched, poked, prodded, and even violated. He felt every stroke, kiss, and hungry stare. He felt how things happened to his body and his body reacted and that made him feel even more sick to his stomach. He would shove and push at the men but that would just lead to them being even more turned on at how 'feisty' he was. After those events he never wanted another man to touch him let alone lay his eyes on him. But fate must want to be cruel as he was bought off and given around to noblemen like he was a toy. "You're so beautiful," "Your body is so plush and soft," "I would almost think you were a girl with how beautiful and soft you are," "Do you think your mother would let me keep you for a few more days?" and "Your body accepts me so well, have you done this before?" is what those men would say as they pulled on his body and hair watching him scream and cry as they gorged themselves on his body. He was like a toy that his mother chose to give away every now and then. A toy that got more broken each time he was 'played' with. He felt trapped as if he was a butterfly simply caught in the web that was his mother's and stepfather's influence, control, and power. It had never got better when Lucianus, as well as Achaea, heard the news of their mother carrying another child. They had delivered this news to Glacies in their letter to him. Seeing how their stepfather treated Kalliaros, their youngest brother, it had shocked the two. And made it all the more apparent that they could not let him fall victim as well. The young boy was as sweet as sugar helping Achaea at every turn. Though, whether it would be fortunate or not, Lucianus had been sent to a school far out in the city of Rome. Lucianus found it to be a reprieve from the things that awaited him back at home, though he knew eventually that he would go back on breaks. And that scared him the most, having to go back there. The 17-year-old made it his mission to avoid any and all men at his new school though, he's already been there for two years now and still hasn't made any effort to speak or even look at his male classmates and teachers. That was until he met... Him. Antemion was the boy's name, the boy who had just followed him into an empty classroom. He was known to be a troublemaker. But, instead of the usual snide remarks that he had seen the other boy make... he was surprisingly sweet, apologized, and even gave Lucianus a fig as a sign that he had not meant to scare the boy.

[talkingattumble]

the rage I feel whenever someone says “it’s just a (insert small pet animal here)” about someone’s dead, missing, or sick pet could power my entire state for a month.

The rage I feel seeing people brag about how they brutally killed their small animal pets would be enough to power every single chainsaw in the United States, which I will promptly use to kill them.

“I used to have a fish but I threw it out of its tank for fun and it died haha” am I supposed to laugh at that.

“I flushed my hamster down the toilet and it drowned lmao” you see how that makes me see you as a disgusting and abhorrent person right.

Like how is it that people take “I hit my dog” so seriously but not “I stomped on my mouse because I was mad at it”??? How???

[indecentwarwlf]

calm down lol

if youve got time to read thru random notes on a tumblr post and send anons to ppl condeming a rapist then youve got time to read the actual article.

[verytraumatized]

Oof. I had a memory resurface. Well a cluster I suppose. I am relaying it down below.

TW Child Abuse

I was going to get beaten for something, I don't remember what. I was young maybe between 5-7 years old? But I ran. I ran away from her. And when she caught me, she pinned me down and straddled my struggling body. I put up my hands in a defensive position, pleading that she let me go, that I'll be good from now on and to please not hit me please. Didn't work. She grabbed one of my hands, pinned it down and swung at the side of my head. She kept hitting until my ears started ringing and it felt like my ear turned into a rock. Her nails dug into the skin of my pinned arm with every swing. She would hit me harder if I screamed or cried. At this stage, I hadn't been assimilated to what her beatings were like, so I often screamed for like 5 minutes, more begging and pleading. It only made her hit me more. It made her eyes spark with more violent intentions which were quickly acted upon with every swing. "YOU WANT SOME MORE?! KEEP CRYING!!" is something often heard during these "sessions" - my question is... What did a 5-7 year old do that could possibly warrant this type of reaction? I probably spilled something on accident. I honestly don't know.

There were multiple instances like this.

[cats-and-confusion]

not sure if i should even post this vent. it's that bad.

my very first memory is being in my uncle's basement sitting in my uncle's lap while he has his hand down my pants. i was three. isnt that great

[txttletale]

what did you mean by "... produces ptsd on an industrial scale"? just trying to understand, thank u!

content moderation for platforms like facebook and tiktok employs thousands of people, sometimes in the usa but more commonly in the global south (so they can be paid less) to sit at computers and view hundreds of flagged posts a day, including graphic violence and csem, for awful wages, under ridiculously stringent conditions. this results in many, many of the people who work in this field developing PTSD -- and of course they are not given adequate treatment of support, one article cites facebook giving its moderaties nine minutes of 'wellness time' for employees to recover if they see something traumatic.

here's some articles on the topic that can give you a good overview of what working conditions in this field are like, but warning, there's pretty graphic descriptions of violence, animal abuse, and child sexual abuse in these articles, as well as frank discussion of suicidal ideation:

Nearby, in a shopping mall, I meet a young woman who I'll call Maria. She's on her lunch break from an outsourcing firm, where she works on a team that moderates photos and videos for the cloud storage service of a major US technology company. Maria is a quality-assurance representative, which means her duties include double-checking the work of the dozens of agents on her team to make sure they catch everything. This requires her to view many videos that have been flagged by moderators “I get really affected by bestiality with children,” she says. “I have to stop. I have to stop for a moment and loosen up, maybe go to Starbucks and have a coffee.” She laughs at the absurd juxtaposition of a horrific sex crime and an overpriced latte.

For Carlos, a former TikTok moderator, it was a video of child sexual abuse that gave him nightmares. The video showed a girl of five or six years old, he said [...] It hit him particularly hard, he said, because he’s a father himself. He hit pause, went outside for a cigarette, then returned to the queue of videos a few minutes later.

Randy also left after about a year. Like Chloe, he had been traumatized by a video of a stabbing. The victim had been about his age, and he remembers hearing the man crying for his mother as he died. “Every day I see that,” Randy says, “I have a genuine fear over knives. I like cooking — getting back into the kitchen and being around the knives is really hard for me.”

[amethystpittman]

TW: graphic descriptions of abuse

Unpopular opinion (apparently): the terms "narcissistic," "sociopathic," etc abuse do not mean that a person with that disorder is abusive because of that disorder. It describes the abuse tactics that are common for people with this disorder due to the symptoms of the disorder when the person with this disorder does, in fact, become abusive. And how to deal with it or avoid it. Because just like disorders portray same symptoms, they also portray the same tactics of abuse, if it does happen, according to those symptoms. And y'all shaming victims of those types of abuse because they call it what it is are enabling and taking away the tools from the victims of those people.

Our mother is a narcissist and has BPD. When I say "narcissistic abuse," I mean that she is abusing me in a way that a narcissist would. And figuring out how to deal with narcissist saved me from quite literally dying. This woman, because of her symptoms, made us walk on eggshells our entire lives, and I doubt she would have done it if she didn't have BPD or narcissism.

Our father is a sociopath and autistic. Our host is also a sociopath. The difference between them is our host knows not to abuse other people because "they're a sociopath, they can't help it," yes, they can. They consciously choose not to, nobody made them.

Learning the terms for both types of abuse quite literally fucking saved our lives. We would have fucking died otherwise because WE WERE A CHILD WHO DID NOT KNOW HOW TO DEAL WITH IT AND WE WERE FINALLY GIVEN TOOLS TO UNDERSTAND HOW TO MINIMIZE THE GODDAMN ABUSE.

What are people supposed to do if you take away the terms of "abuse from certain disorders"? How are people supposed to fucking survive with the people with this disorder who are, in fact, abusive? Scattered symptoms across the entire internet, many avoidance and survival tactics that have no label or name so you have no fucking idea what to pick and get lost? Are you going to take away the tools that made people survive? Nobody has ever said that mentally ill people are abusive. But don't forget that same narcissistic people did horrible things to others. Our own abuser was a narcissist and justified their abuse by saying we're "ableist," and they "can't help it." If you don't want the terms to bother you, don't be abusive. And if people think that you inherently are because of your disorder, then that's their problem, and they're assholes. But just because people are goddamn assholes sometimes and overgeneralize shit and attack mentally ill people for being "dangerous" when they didn't do anything does not give you a right to take away resources and safe spaces of people who were horribly abused by mentally ill people. Mental illness is not an excuse.

We do not "believe" in that abuse, it fucking exists. Stop being in denial because you're afraid somebody will accuse you of it. If you never abused anybody, then you never abused anybody, and people who tell you that you are abusive because of your disorder are ableists. But nobody is ableist for telling you something you don't want to hear. We are not having our trauma minimized by those who suddenly decided they can dictate what labels people should use for their abuse. Stop playing gatekeepers. When you get raped, almost killed, manipulated, neglected, ghosted, religiously abused, medically abused, financially abused, publicly shamed, yelled at, betrayed, abandoned, BRAINWASHED, and beat by a narcissist and a sociopath, then we can talk. You have absolutely no say in it, and I'm glad that you were lucky enough not to be put through hell by mentally ill people. I am glad your parents didn't watch you get bullied daily on top of everything, and they didn't stand there, watched the conversations going on about you in the school group chat, and forgot about it the next day after telling you to just "ignore them." I'm glad you weren't forced shit down your throat because your parents snapped at you and decided to make you eat something that makes you throw up. I'm glad your parents didn't treat your body like a doll for both their sexual and social pleasures. I'm glad you didn't have to be forced to act a certain way around others and never stood up for because your parents had a "reputation" they didn't want to ruin when their child was being fucking abused. And I'm glad that you didn't wake up today from 5 nightmares, and don't have to constantly go tired from a lack of sleep, constant stress and flashbacks, over 10 mental illnesses, and multiple physical disabilities because your parents refuse to acknowledge their child is supposed to be perfect and have everything right with them. I'm glad you weren't threatened to get murdered and almost did get murdered because your narcissistic friend went into "narcissistic rage" that YOU WEREN'T EVEN AT FAULT FOR.

I have one thing to say to all of you abuse enablers:

-4 people who will stay anonymous

[everyone-needs-a-hoopoe]

In summary: Dr. Sidhbh Gallagher, @gendersurgeon on TikTok, is a top surgeon with whom many patients have had extremely dangerous and even near-death experiences. She continued to deny how much her patients were suffering after their botched surgeries even when presented with evidence.

This TikTok user, @mrherbcat, talked about this back in 2022. He wrote an article on it on Medium: link

I found this TikTok y'all might wanna look at