#tw: mention of abusive parent

[keldae]

A kiss to a scar, birthmark, injury, or other marking for your galemancer ❤️

Devi loved nighttime around camp. In the peaceful darkness, all was calm and relaxing, giving the party a needed reprieve from the stress of the day. That it meant she could retreat into Gale's cozy tent with the wizard in question only sweetened the deal for her.

Right now, she was on her side, facing Gale, lightly shivering as the cool night air tickled her exposed skin, damp as it was with sweat. Her heart had finally slowed back down after a round of passionate sex, one that made her grateful Gale had remembered to put up a silencing ward around the tent (lest other members of the group start yelling for the couple to fuck off). He had cast the spell already to clean away the mess they had left between her thighs; now he reclined on his side, his head propped up on his hand, fondly gazing at her. His other hand reached out, tracing over her cheek and ear with his fingers, a gentle, soft touch that made Devi feel safe and protected with him.

“You are a work of art,” Gale murmured, tracing the contours of Devi's face as though committing her to memory. “You are poetry taken flesh and sent to live among mere mortals. You are a treasure that deserves nothing less than the finest pedestal on which to display your beauty.”

Feeling a not-unpleasant warmth on her cheeks, Devi smiled at Gale, almost shy as he praised her. “You make me feel worthy of adoration,” she softly said. “You make me feel as beautiful as a goddess.”

“If nobody has told you before that you are beautiful to rival even Mystra, then every other lover you’ve had has been negligent. Worshipping you and your beauty is a blasphemy that I will happily partake in.” Gale’s eyes were soft as he gazed at Devi, his thumb tracing her lips. “Gods, how did I get so lucky as to have you here with me?”

Smiling, Devi kissed the pad of Gale’s thumb. “It turns out that I have a weakness for handsome wizards who snuggle me to sleep and read me bedtime stories.”

Gale chuckled softly. “And this wizard is incredibly grateful that you picked him, out of everyone you could have chosen to love.” He went quiet for a moment, his thumb shifting to trace the scar that cut vertically across Devi’s lips. “I don’t think you told me how you picked up this mark, my love…” he quietly said, his brow furrowing. 

Devi shook her head slightly. “I didn’t,” she softly confirmed. “I… angered Father and he threw a glass bottle at me. It missed me, but the shards of glass from when it hit the wall beside me left their marks. The one on my forehead was from the same bottle.” 

For a second, fury flickered through Gale’s eyes, followed by sorrow as he leaned in close. His lips touched the scar on Devi’s mouth, a gentle press that nearly made her cry sheerly from how tender his touch was; then he moved enough to kiss the scar on her temple. “Your father will have plenty to answer for when I meet him,” he muttered. “You will never suffer another wound at his hand again – I promise. Nobody harms my beloved.”

Feeling her eyes burning, Devi scooted closer to Gale on the rumpled bedroll, her hand settling on his shoulder. “Gods, I love you, my protective, handsome wizard,” she whispered, leaning in to kiss his neck.

“I love you too,” Gale murmured, kissing her forehead again over her scar. He leaned back a smidgen, just enough to take in more of Devi’s body with his gaze; his eyes settled on her neck tattoo. “You haven’t told me the story of this one,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss the tattoo.

Devi shivered as she felt Gale kiss his way over her skin. “So… I’m going to start by saying I was seventeen and fuelled entirely by spite and poor decisions,” she said with a little laugh. “I had found out that Father was planning to sell me to some lord’s son or nephew or something, and he wanted me to look pretty.” She heard Gale lowly growl something uncomplimentary at her father as he listened to her story. “My partner at the time, she had a friend who had a friend in Wyrm’s Crossing who could do tattoos… and, well, roses are my favourite flower. They gave me a drink of something that would dull the pain, and by dawn, I had this.” She wrinkled her nose and ruefully laughed. “I fainted once while they were doing the tattoo – it hurt so bad to have done.”

Gale winced as he pulled back from kissing the tattoo to meet Devi’s eyes. “I can only imagine the pain of a tattoo, forget having that on your neck, of all places. Can I safely assume that your father did not approve?”

“Oh, he was livid that I cost him the deal, since the lord in question thought the tattoo was ugly and refused to agree to the contract.” Devi smirked. “It was worth his rage and the punishment I got from him. I think that might have been the same partner who got my ears pierced too…”

“She was either a terrible influence, or an excellent one,” Gale chuckled. If Devi focused, she could hear the suppressed anger in his voice, directed at her father. “How did that relationship end, if I may ask?”

Devi shrugged. “Apparently I was an experiment for her to see if she liked women or not. She decided one day that she missed being with a man, told me we needed to go our separate ways, and I found out maybe a tenday later that she was a month pregnant at the time.”

“I wish I didn’t know that feeling,” Gale muttered. “A previous partner of mine, before Mystra, did something similar to me, when I was much younger. I didn’t know for certain that the child wasn’t mine until he was born with suspiciously pointed ears… to a human mother.”

“Oh, that bitch,” Devi growled, her hand gently rubbing Gale’s shoulder.

Gale ruefully chuckled. “I had a few choice words of my own for her when I told her to go to a particularly low level of the Hells. Tara nearly clawed her eyes out – not to mention how furious my mother was.” He snorted. “More insulting was how she tried to tell me that she was part Elf, despite me knowing that she was entirely human. I’ve never had my intelligence insulted like that before, or since.”

“You are far better off without that lying bitch in your life,” Devi murmured with a nod. 

“Indeed… particularly since it means that I get to have you in my life instead.” Gale smiled fondly at Devi and leaned in to kiss her gently. “You are a gift that I treasure, every moment that I am blessed to spend in your company, my love.”

Devi smiled as she kissed Gale back, scooting closer to him. ��Which one of us is the lucky one again?” she murmured. “I’m pretty sure it’s me – the uneducated thief who fell for a handsome, compassionate, smart-as-all-hells wizard.”

“You are a master thief, my darling – you stole my heart months ago.” Gale chuckled. He leaned back slightly from the kisses, his eyes roaming over her exposed skin, his hand following his eyes over her body. He stopped at another scar on her forearm, his brow furrowing. “What was the story behind this scar?”

Devi looked at the scar and made a face. “That one was an accident. My brother Jehn was teaching me how to fight with knives, and he was demonstrating a strike that I was meant to block… he told me while he was trying to stitch me up afterward that I was supposed to block with my own knife and not my arm.”

Gale winced again. “Oh, Devi…”

“In my defence, I was… eight years old? Nine?” Devi shrugged. “I was young, and just learning how to use knives. Jehn didn’t mean to hurt me, and he did feel terrible about it.” She contemplated the scar again. “Honestly, the stitches he did to try and fix it hurt more than the initial wound.” 

“It’s a marvel that you didn’t bleed out or acquire an infection from that, or lose partial function in your hand,” Gale murmured, lifting Devi’s arm so he could tenderly kiss the scar. “How many more wounds did you get from Jehn while he was teaching you how to fight?”

“That one was the worst one from him, you’ll be happy to hear,” Devi assured him. “I got a few more cuts on my arms, and a couple of shallow wounds on my stomach – by then, he’d managed to steal some healing potions that he could use to patch me up from the worst of the wounds, so I was fine. And I gave him his share of wounds back – nearly broke his nose once.”

Gale softly chuckled. “That’s my girl,” he murmured, making Devi’s heart skip a beat in her chest at the endearment. He leaned in and rubbed his nose against hers for a moment. “My sweet, perfect star. Gods, you are so perfect – scars and all.”

Smiling, Devi snuggled up to Gale, as closely as she could manage, and lowered her head so she could kiss the orb brand across his heart. “First in my heart,” she whispered, feeling Gale drape his arm across her body so he could hold her closer to him. “My heart belongs to you, Gale – fully and utterly.” 

She felt Gale’s arm tighten across her as he gently nudged her head back so he could nuzzle her face. “And I promise to take the best care of what you’ve entrusted to me, my love,” he softly said. “Your heart will never break while it is in my hands.”

“And neither will yours,” Devi promised, setting her fingers across Gale’s heart. She saw his smile before he kissed her again – tenderly at first, then with more passion and lust in his touches as he gently pushed her onto her back, his thigh nudging her legs open for him again.

This, Devi thought as she kissed Gale back, running her fingers into his hair and arching her body into his as she tried to touch as much of him as she could, was home – in Gale’s arms, warm and safe, and loved in a way that she had never experienced before. She would follow this man into the lowest of the Hells if he had need of her, and some part of her heart knew that he would gladly follow her there too.

I am the luckiest girl alive, was her last coherent thought before she gave herself to the pleasures that Gale made her experience again.

[incognitopolls]

"Abusive" includes forms of abuse like physical, mental, emotional, or any other form.

–

We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.

[blu3b3rryj4mp1r3]

Friendly reminder that "I bought you nice things", "I gave you food and a roof over your head" and "I've never hit/physically hurt you" does not justify emotional abuse, neglect or parentification.

And if when being confronted they make you feel guilty and get defensive and passive aggressive saying some variant of "Oh well I must've been such a terrible parent!" and tell you how they bought you nice things for your birthdays and how your basic needs were met, that does not make your feelings and trauma invalid. You're not a bad person or ungrateful for feeling hurt.

[wilwheaton]

if you know this secret handshake some of us use today, i see you and i’m so sorry.

I don't celebrate Father's Day (or any other Hallmark holiday) for reasons that will not surprise you if you know anything about my life.

But I do celebrate all the other children of fuckers and pieces of shit who survived like I did, who broke the cycle of generational trauma like I and my sister did, whose mothers forced them to praise and worship their abuser "because it's father's day" like mine did, who fucking hate the endless reminders to celebrate the dad we never had (in my case, because he chose not to be a dad to me like he chose to be a dad for my brother. I guess being a bully was more satisfying to him).

I see you, friends. I see you, and I know you see me, and I am both grateful and sad. We know this secret handshake we wish we didn't know. We know a very specific kind of loss that only we know, a type of lingering pain that never really goes away entirely, that can only be reduced to part of the background noise, but can crank itself up to 11 without warning.

I just want you all to know that I see you, and I love you. I know how tough it is, how much it hurts.

I want to specifically make meaningful eye contact with all of my fellow survivors who are also dads, who show up for our kids in spite of the pain and loss. It's such a challenge, and it means so much. We broke the cycle and that is massive. I'm so proud of us.

[furiousgoldfish]

I have an update about this situation, which if you didn't read it, was about me finding out that my parents are searching for me, going door to door and asking people on the street if they know me, even asking with my fake name. They found someone who did know me, and they chatted, and this person later called me and told me what had happened, to which I freaked out, asked them not to share any details about me, and explained that I had ran away due to violence and that I'm terrified of these people.

Now knowing that my parents are out there looking for me, I spent the next few weeks locked in, afraid to go out, only going to work and back, and sometimes disguised so I wouldn't be recognized. I didn't run into anyone on the street, nobody came to my door, I didn't get any other phone calls, so I eventually relaxed and decided that it was okay to be outside, even if they are looking, unless they find me directly where I live, I could easily escape on bike, and they wouldn't know where I went.

The other day I got the phone call from the person who talked to my parents, and they asked me to come over, to be gifted some extra clothing. I was scared, worried that it was a trap, that my parents somehow got this person to cooperate and to bring me to them, but I decided to be brave and go anyway, since the chance of this was very low, and on the phone they reassured me that I could forget that last situation. Still, when I got there I startedly looked around to see if anyone was in there, but it was all empty.

I got some extra details of what happened; it was my mother and a friend looking for me, my father was not present. This person admitted to actually knowing me, and where I live, so my parents know someone who is in contact with me right now. However the person didn't share my address with them, which is why I was still safe.

Then the person revealed they actually got a call from my mother later that day, and they had an argument over the phone. The person repeated what I had told them – that I ran because of violence, because I was forced to work to deserve to eat and sleep there, because of death threats, torture, neglect, and my mother responded angrily 'You don't know what kind of trouble they were causing me!'. Then my mother still tried to convince this person that she cares about me and is worried about me, but the person rebutted with 'you should have cared when they were younger', and when my mother wouldn't stop asking for information, the person said that if she calls again, the police will be called and hung up.

Now this was very interesting to me, firstly my mother getting a police threat upon trying to find me, that is extremely good, satisfying, reassuring, positive, made me so happy. I was in a good mood for the rest of the day just thinking about what kind of reality-check that must have been, to have other people threaten with police and stand in their way of getting to me. I feel it was the first time someone actively protected me and it feels like I've been waiting my whole life for that to happen, and I never thought it would.

Second thing is her 'you don't know what kind of trouble they were causing', because she wasn't even denying the accusations of violence and torture! She blatantly did admit that yes, I had to work to deserve to live as a child, I was beaten, neglected, I was threatened death, I was kept in sub-human conditions, but she just felt it was justified! Because I was 'causing trouble', which is a lie, I did everything she asked me when I was a kid. It's like she still thinks me standing up to her violent abusive husband was 'me causing trouble' excuse me why did you marry that thing, and then never stood up to it? I had more backbone as a child than she has as an adult and this was 'me causing trouble'. I stood up to him because it was the right thing to do, because he was attacking me and my siblings, what do you mean I was causing trouble defending rest of the family from violence and absorbing it so the rest of you wouldn't have to. Ungrateful lying coward.

And also her saying I was the awful troublemaker doesn't check out with the rest of her story; if I was such a menace why is she out there looking for me? Why is she not blessed that I am gone and she can finally enjoy your life? Would you actively seek out someone you have to control with death threats from how much trouble they're causing to you? The lie is falling apart.

This has me very calmed down and grateful that not all people are cowards and unwilling to stand up to abusers. I've never seen this before, in my experience, people were always ready to bow down to my parents and see me as an ungrateful horrid creature who needs to be put into their place. This person has known me enough to see that I'm honest, fair, hardworking, kind, accommodating, they even told me that they can see there's nothing twisted about me. They understood that my situation is one of a struggle and that I have to work hard to survive, and often expressed that I struggle too much compared to others. And this isn't someone I'm on constant contact with, we talk once a year. I was surprised they picked up on this much.

I'm feeling better about the situation now I understand I was defended, I'm not that afraid anymore. I did get upset that my mother is trying to convince people that I was just so bad I deserved all, but at least not everyone believes it. I mean, it's ridiculous for anyone to believe a child could possibly deserve this, but I know a lot of people who do believe that. I thought everyone would side with my parents forever. Feeling better knowing there's one person who sided with me, when it was crucial for my safety.

[punkstylerecovery]

Generally speaking, your parents often owe you a lot more than you're taught to believe. A lot of people are raised to believe that parents do not really owe you that much beyond food and shelter and that's not true. In fact, you can have parents who give you food, shelter, patience and kindness and STILL deserve more from them.

By being your parents, they've accepted a very special relationship and amount of responsibility for you. Do you know how many people I know whose parents have never genuinely apologized to them? How many people’s parents physically hurt them, how many people’s parents mock their insecurities, how many people’s parents don’t care for their children’s health, how many parents make their children (intentionally or otherwise) want to die? 

And so many people don’t give a fuck. We’re raised in cultures that more often than not treat us to respect our parents in spite of most anything while also teaching everyone that children don’t deserve shit. We’re raised in cultures that more often than not teach us to “respect our parents” in spite of most anything while also teaching everyone that children don’t really deserve shit. It varies but its so common that lots of people don’t even think twice about it. 

But children DO deserve more than they’re generally given. So much more! And so many things that are literally just abusive are considered normal parenting all around the world and that’s vile, especially considering children are the most severely affected by this and have no “societal power” to wield to put a stop to it beyond what they can scramble together through a combination of sheer determination, shock value, strength and fucking luck. 

Not to sound radical, but I think we owe children a fuck ton more than they’re being given now and I think people need to learn so much more about abuse and how that ties into the common underplaying of what we’re owed in parent/child relationships. 

[hhhhleb]

connected to this concept of birth giving and this comics ⚠️heavy topics below beware⚠️

so this idea sat in my head for a while what if sans not really a brother for papyrus..? well not biologically(or magically…) at least so i thought how could he get in this position and came up with some ideas for starters all this 'low fertility and forced injections of lust' reminds me so much of The Handmaid's Tale(i've watched only like 10 episodes but i got the main idea of reproductive abuse it portrays) so this and the concept of Gaster experementing on his children(on "child" in this case) just fused into this concept -> what if gaster tested his lust injections on sans 'cause em.. no body's gonna know?like maybe he didn't gave birth to him, he just found sans below some magic object and raised him in his closed laboratory to get more knowledge about fertility and lifegiving topic. gaster might forced this soulling artificially and that's how sans got paps and may be gaster tried to End this Experiment 'cause sans's little soul was at risk but sans rebelled and ran away or something idk all these things are very ethemeral in my head

or it was just another monster, some stranger or someone close and "trustworthy". may be sans wanted it. may be not. every option has it's own interesting themes to exlore really.

one thing i'm sure about is that paps doesn't know and after gaster dissolved in the Core sans might not know neither.. they're happy to be brothers and that's all they need actually

[uncanny-tranny]

It's weird how people paint "daddy issues" and even "mommy issues" as, like, a joke or a failure on part of the person who has those issues, rather than recognizing that daddy and mommy issues stem, for so many people, from abuse. What this all is is just abuse apologia, and nobody seems to either notice or maybe even care.

When somebody with daddy or mommy issues opens up about the "why," I can't ever seem to shake the fact that they tend to have gone through a ton of abuse and bullshit as a child. It's just crazy that other people would look at that and see a joke or a failure of the once-child who was abused.

[canadiannationalfox]

Murder Drones Fanfic - Dove Feathers

tw// disordered eating, unhealthy weight loss, self hatred, depression, abusive parents, illness

Another day working at the Elliott Manor, it was pretty normal as of late for the little maid drone known simply as J. Every day was usually the same. Wake up her dearest friend Tessa, lay out Tessa's clothes, make sure Tessa made it to studies on time, bring Tessa some mid-morning tea, some tidying in the manor, bring Tessa back to her room from studies and then keep Tessa entertained until dinner time, and then the nightly routines.

Lately, N had been having some minor programming issues, so J had to pick up the slack on his work load.

"Fucking hell, it's almost like I have to do a lot of the workload myself," J groaned as she brought up some fresh dresses for Tessa to wear while on wakeup call for the beloved human girl.

J smiled a little thinking about her favourite human. The maid drone might have been stern, stoic, and grumpy, but around Tessa she didn't feel those emotions as much. She felt happy to help, more receptive to feed back from the girl, and looking for loopholes so they could make the best of the situation. The platinum haired drone blissfully, with a skip in her step, strolled down the hallway, thinking about part of a story Tessa had to study.

"The lovely gift of finding a strand of your beloved's long hair is like finding a feather left behind by an angel," J thought, not thinking too much at first, but recalled that in the last couple days of cleaning Tessa's bedroom, she was finding a bit more than usual of the cool-dark strands about. "Dove feathers," J joked to herself as she got closer to Tessa's bedroom door, but stopped upon hearing the soft sobs of the 11 year old girl.

J gently pushed the door open of the room, and as soon as Tessa heard the sound of the door, she stuffed something into her left night table drawer and put on a mourning veil, the dark heavier-tulle draped however over the back of Tessa's head instead of her face.

Tessa wiped her eyes and smiled happily to J. "Good Morning, Jaybird," Tessa greeted, trying to sound cheerful.

The maid drone approached Tessa and greeted, "Good Morning, little princess," before seeing Tessa's sparkling grey eyes fight back teardrops, "What's wrong?"

"I'm 'right, Jaybird... honest," the girl with the big dark blue bow insisted, finally able to push her sad feelings away. She was about to speak when her stomach grumbled.

"Sounds like you could use something to eat," J chuckled, smiling happily until she saw the 11-year-old girl's expression of sorrow.

"Just tea today, J, I'm not that hungry."

J stood in waiting, worry filled her core, standing by for Tessa asking for assistance.

The Elliott Heiress stepped behind her changing screen with a dress and was changing. "I don't need to eat, I'm..." she stopped explaining in a somber tone before trying to sound more cheery, "Pretending to be a drone today, I don't need to eat anything, just a spot of coolant or oil will do."

J, upon being called by Tessa, began walking over to the screen, seeing a lot more 'dove feathers' than before, in a trail, even a bigger group of strands, this was worrying.

"Could you synch the back for me, Jaybird? My dress is a little loose."

The platinum haired maid began to comply, helping tighten the ribbon at the waist. "You really like your mourning veil from the mausoleum, huh, Tessa?" J assessed politely, trying to make conversation.

"Oh, y-yeah, thank you," Tessa replied trying to sound cheerful, but her voice was a bit sad, "It helps me feel better about things."

J offered politely once she made sure the bow at the back of Tessa's dress was secured and tied, as over the last little while Tessa had been rescinding the offer, "I haven't been on night-time brush duty for a while, Tessa, are you doing alright on your own or do you want some-" stopped before she could even finish the sentence.

"NO!" Tessa yelped in fright while jumping back a little, realizing who she was talking to. "I'm sorry, J... but, no thank you. Sorry I got scared." Despite needing a hug badly, Tessa had to go downstairs to the dining hall since it was too rainy for the family to enjoy breakfast in the sunroom.

J stayed back, deciding to help clean up in Tessa's room, but also as a way of sleuthing. The drone kept cleaning up around the room, little stray pieces of wire, some screws, some slags from a soldering gun. And a lot more cool-black hairs.

J approached Tessa's vanity desk, where there was a lot more broken strands laying about. She opened a drawer to find Tess' hairbrush and she felt her LED eyes go into the ring mode.

There was clumps of frail black hair stuck to the brush.

The maid looked more closely at the hairs, assessing the ends. Having been the drone that helped Tessa when collecting for wigs and sewing them, she knew what a point cut or blunt cut or even the drag marks of a razor comb looked like when Tessa borrowed them from her dad when she couldn't find the sewing scissors. But it was clear that this was breakage, the ends were frayed and straw-like.

J went to find N who was in the library working close to the drone Tessa affectionately called "Vivianna" when she was younger.

The cheery little butler was trying out his recently repaired wrist nodes in helping put away the books Louisa had read the night before. V was working diligently to take out all the books Tessa would need for her tutoring for the day.

J approached N and bonked him on the back of the head. "Hey, Insipid Intern!" she greeted in an aggressive tone, "Why didn't you tell me about Tessa."

N turned his attention to where the slap came from, almost turning his head most of the way around like an owl, trilling with a happy voice, "Oh, Hi J! I don't know what you mean."

The pigtailed drone held up a clump of black hair and ordered with a snarl, "The fact Tessa's shedding hair like a border collie in the summer!" she put her hands on her hips, still holding the scraggled cluster of strands, "That and the fact she's not eating. So spill the tea or I'll spill some tea on you."

N blinked his bright alabaster LED eyes in confusion, still smiling in bemusement.

The maid with her grey hair done back in a low bun, knew some intel and spoke up, "Louisa has been trying to get Tessa to cut back on caloric intake," she adjusted her glasses and said in a matter-of-fact tone, "It's likely in an attempt at keeping Tessa thinner, despite the fact that a growing girl needs nutrients and calories to grow."

"That still doesn't explain the hair loss."

V went over to a medical book of symptoms for kids and opened it up, reading aloud to try to be helpful, "Hair loss, can be caused by lack of proper nutrition, stress, certain medical treatments, over exposure to chemicals, or ailments." She closed the book and stated with a half smile, "Hope that gives some insight, boss."

J turned her attention back to N. "N, I don't like you but I'm going to need you to be a mule for me."

The happy little snowy-haired butler giggled happily before responding joyfully, "I like doing anything."

J commanded, "I want you later when you're in the kitchen to go into the pantry and get me some protein bars and some dried fruits. Hide them under your helmet so when you do go up to Tessa later you can give her something to eat."

"Is there anything you want me to help with?" V asked curiously, standing at attention but smiling in a hopeful manner, "Mrs Elliott is sending me on a pharmacy run."

"You're going to have to buy a bottle of children's chewable vitamins for Tessa. We need to do absolutely everything to get her healthy again without arousing suspicions from Mrs Elliott, who is likely monitoring Tessa's figure."

The two drones nodded, accepting their tasks.

N asked curiously as he tilted his head like a dog, "But what about you, J? What's your mission?"

"I'm going to be Tessa's emotional support and try to coax her back before she starts having an ED like her mother."

After Tessa was done her studies, she was feeling really light-headed. The poor girl had trouble focusing at all to the tutor's lesson. She grabbed an umbrella to go outside despite it still raining.

The Elliott girl was about to take a step when she started to lose her balance, when suddenly she fell into the arms of a drone. She smiled as she heard the voice behind her.

"Oops there, don't want you falling down, Tessa."

"Th-thank you, Jaybird," Tessa spoke somberly as she was helped to stand upright again, "You didn't have to, I would've been alright."

J worriedly asked, "Why are you going out?" she talked in front of Tessa and held her hands soothingly, "You're not feeling well and you could catch cold if you go out in the rain."

Tessa shrugged it off with a smile. "Oh, it's no issue, J, honest."

"Princess, I need you to listen to me," J ordered firmly, "I can't risk you getting more sick."

Tessa got really upset now, her temper flared like a firecracker due to her being more ravenous than a dingo in a bakery's dumpster. Tessa's heart stung, the adoring little pet name was now an insult. "Don't call me that, and maybe there's a reason I want to go outside, J. Why are you controlling me?"

"What's wrong with calling you a princess, Tessa? Princesses are strong and brave. They lead with kindness and endure perils that no little girl should ever have to live through."

"PRINCESSES ARE ALSO BEAUTIFUL!" Tessa screamed back, her eyes welling up with tears as she took off her veil, showing the tattered wreck a-top her head, all uneven from breakage. Tessa sank to the floor, holding her self in a hug and crying. "How can I be a princess when I'm not thin enough and probably going to go bald as an egg? I'm just a mistake. A stupid, ugly, worthless mistake."

J sat on the ground next to Tessa and held the crying girl tightly. "Shhh, hey... We can get through this together,"

Tessa's hands shook as she held them out to look at them. "I'm so hungry that I screamed at you, but if I eat then I'll get in trouble, it's not fair. It's not fair, J, it's not fair. I just wanted to go to the raspberry plant by the graveyard so I could eat something."

J hugged Tessa from the side still, being reassuring and gentle as she spoke. "I know you're scared, but where is your Mother right now?"

"She's with Father right now, drinking wine in the bar area," Tessa answered as she wiped her tears, "Wh-why?"

J stood up, putting Tessa onto her shoulders like when the girl was much younger. "Well if that's the case, we're getting you to the kitchen, we're going to give you something to eat." She asked curiously as she started to walk along, Tessa hanging onto the top of the maid drone's head, "How little have you been eating?"

"I had some salted cucumber for breakfast and a single piece of toast with jam."

"Okay, that's good, that means Refeeding Syndrome won't be too big of a factor."

"Wait, what?" Tessa asked, as J brought her to the kitchen, "Have you been reading my medical books?"

"Somewhat," J replied, helping Tessa down off her shoulders before she went to the large industrial sized fridge, "What are you fixing for then, Tessa?"

"Strawberries... lots, please!" the ebony haired girl pleaded enthusiastically.

J brought Tessa a bowl of grapes, strawberries, and an apricot. "I know you want lots, but you don't want to shock your body and make yourself sick by over eating," the maid instructed caringly as she placed her hands on Tessa's left hand, "remember, small steps, Tess," she let go of her favourite human's hand to let her have the healthy snack.

Tessa still ravenously ate all the fresh fruit she was given, feeling a lot better once she had eaten. "I needed that, thank you Jaybird. I'm sorry I screamed at you."

"Hey, you had to get it out of your system. I get mad at other drones all the time when they get on my nerves," the wise words of the drone managed to make the human she adored giggle, J's most favourite sound in the world.

"C-could you maybe still call me a little princess, though? I... I still want to be called that, even if I don't feel that pretty."

Without missing a beat, J replied cheerfully, "Who said you're not pretty, princess?"

Tessa's eyes welled up and she hugged J tightly. "Thank you!"

"Remember, it's like that fairytale about the ogre princess, it's not about what's on the outside but about what's on the inside."

V came up to Tessa's room later, having snuck in the pocket of her dress the vitamins she had bought secretively at the pharmacy, she knocked on the door, and was happy to hear Tessa's voice sounding cheerful.

"Come in!"

The bespectacled maid drone opened the door to see J putting some very light weight bows on two braids of long hair at the back of Tessa's head. V came in and said cheerfully, "Oh! Miss Tessa, you look different."

Tessa giggled as she held up the stolen razor comb, "I'm trying out a new look!" she didn't want to admit what was going on, and she was in better spirits now, not realizing V knew. "Look, it's long at some parts and shorter in the back!" the girl trilled, showing off her black hair that was shoulder length at the back but much longer closer to the front. "It'll be a lot easier to care for."

J laughed cheerfully as she patted the 11-year-old human girl on the back, "Tessa's so talented and clever."

V gave Tessa the bottle of vitamins and responded while playing a little dumb, "I was sent down to the pharmacy to get some things and I saw these and thought you'd like them. They look like candy and are labelled as berry flavoured."

"Oh, silly, Vee!" the girl with the bows in her hair giggled, "These are vitamins! Not candy! But, I will still enjoy them!"

V went on her way, feeling happy she could sneakily help her friends' favourite human.

Once again it was just Tessa and J after V had left and N had dropped off some snacks that Tessa could hide in one of the decorative vintage jars she liked to collect.

Tessa took one of the vitamins and smiled happily to J, once she was done eating it, she giggled happily, "I guess you had a lot planned for helping save me, Jaybird."

J responded joyfully, glad to hear the joyfulness returned to her beloved's voice, "Anything for my little princess."

The Elliott heiress sat with her back straight and her head held high, because despite the set back and the lost dove feathers, she was once again soaring emotionally thanks to her Jaybird helping her, which after a few more weeks, Tessa was a lot healthier, helping carry her through until her Father put an end to the restrictive diet on his daughter.

The End

[selfship-shinigami]

your F/Os despise your abusive parents. they adore you and are proud of you, no matter what your parents tell you.

[andtheclockstruckthirteen]

I’ve seen a few works in this fandom on ao3 that portray Ursa as a worse parent than Ozai and as ungrateful for everything she had as a princess and then Fire Lady becuase it was a position of privilege that most others in the Fire Nation were too poor for yada yada

I just want to remind people that while she might not have been a great parent to Azula and while she was fortunate to not have to worry about being poor, Ozai is canonically physically and mentally abusive and Ursa was literally forced into a non-consensual marriage under threat of harm and it can be assumed (depending on your preferences, because that would be in headcanon territory not canon as of right now) that the act of producing Zuko and Azula was also non-consensual (through coersion at the very least because even if she participated in it or wasn't expressly fighting back, it's not like she realistically would've had much of a choice)???

And her not having to worry about being poor was replaced by her having to worry about living under an extremely powerful abuser that she physically cannot get away from because he is the highest level of authority in the country under the firelord and crown prince? nevermind that i think Azulon actually arranged the marriage himself? (that might be fanon i will admit, I haven't read the comics and by the sounds of it, I don't really want to see my favs get nerfed like that)

Like Ozai is an abuser from the royal family in an imperialist, war-mongering country??? She was a random girl from a Fire Nation village unfortunate enough to be related to the past fire avatar?

we don't even know if she was a neglectful parent to Azula for sure because families living under powerful abusers have a lot of nuace that people refuse to acknowledge (and who are incredibly fortunate themselves not to understand), especially when that child starts resembling their abuser (and I'm not talking about having anger issues, I'm talking about Azula making fun of Zuko for their father being ordered by their grandfather to comit filicide and their father agreed). but i digress.

even if she was emotionally neglectful of Azula, she would still be a better parent than Ozai who LITERALLY MELTED HALF HIS SON'S FACE OFF AS HE BEGGED FOR MERCY AS A 13 YEAR OLD

in what world is emotion neglect more severe than a murder attempt??? like all abuse is bad 100% but demonising the other parent as horrible and ignoring the parent who tried to murder their own child multiple times in canon??? that's some top-tier victim blaming (and woman-hating, considering I don't see Ozai getting the same treatment for emotionally neglecting Zuko in the same fucking work) right there.

[finleyforevermore]

Hey guys! How've we been since I've been away? Hm? Not good? Yeah, I thought so.

I was AFK (which means Away From Keyboard for those who weren't aware, or didn't think to Google it /nm) because my mom had taken away my phone for a bit but I could still use it to help with my math homework.

I did lurk around Tumblr a bit, and I did "officially" come back online for a bit, but I mostly lurked.

And how delightful it was to see (can not clarify enough how sarcastic this is) that someone I follow but am not moots with decided that March 20th was the day they were doing to commit suicide. They did not succeed. But they sure as hell scared the fuck out of me. Same story I've seen before with my other friends, abusive parental figure, and possibly SA'd like some of my other friends. Lovely.

And then ANOTHER friend as it turns out has an extremely abusive mother and got fucking strangled by aforementioned mother, then said in the posts of a vent post, "something something maybe she should've killed me".

Being technically AFK I had to go on anon for a bit and try my damndest to prove to my friend that their mother is beyond saving, and there's no use seeing her in a positive light, and they by no means deserve what happened to them. I don't know if it worked. If you see this, I'm sorry if I came off as rude. But that really was the straw that broke the camel's back.

I'd been trying to keep together fairly well but I had been thinking of Liam, Nex's death was ruled a suicide (and now his murderers will not be charged), all of my other friends are traumatized and now I've discovered another friend has an abusive parent, and someone tried to fucking kill themselves.

And so, we have this. This song has been my coping mechanism for the past several weeks and what I can best describe as my theme song. Whenever I see something tragic with either my friends or someone else my first thought is the words of this song. Largely because of the themes of getting salvation for the unjust wrongs done upon Sweeney or in this case my friends.

I really don't know why I was blessed to know such wonderful incredible beautiful people only for them to suffer relentlessly and have gallons upon gallons of trauma.

Do bad things happen? Sure. But with my friends it's non-stop. One traumatic event after another after another after another and I'm. Just so done. I'm so sick. And I'm so tired. Of everything. Of all the pain and suffering. Of the fact I can't do anything. Of the fact I feel too much. This probably shouldn't be impacting me so much but for some reason it is.

I would've been apprehensive posting this because I'm kind of self-conscious about my voice but some of my friends are suffering 24/7 so I think my voice is the last thing I should be worrying about.

Enjoy if you want. Or don't. That's ok too. Love you guys.

@literatureisdying

[mlgrace]

i love (hate) when someone points out that child abuse, especially certain forms, are still normalised and overlooked by society as being necessary and harmless in the long term and beneficial despite numerous forms of empirical evidence suggesting otherwise says something like “uhm actually i got *abused in whatever way is mentioned* and i turned out fine”. people will literally say ��yeah i have no actual definitive proof that the mistreatment i endured doesn’t impact my life today. and even if i did i’m still one person whose subjective opinion doesn’t negate decades of research with larger sample sizes. but you have to believe me. child abuse is fine actually. trust me”

[furiousgoldfish]

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.

[a-sip-of-milo]

"But if you never have kids, who's going to take care of you when you're old?"

So, your reasoning for wanting/having children is so you've got someone who feels obligated to take care of you? Sounds abusive but okay.

DNI if you believe in cluster B abuse.

[nothing0fnothing]

My mom always used to tell me that I was so much more mature than the boys my age because "girls mature faster" and always told me to date older when I started dating.

The men in my family would tell me that the best way for me to succeed was to 1) get really thin 2) get really hot 3) marry an elderly man months from death 4) inherit his money after he died.

Constant discussions about how I shouldn't be dating teenage boys because teenage boys "only want one thing" and I should be waiting to date till my mid 20s when they've "calmed down".

But yeah it was totally my fault when a man in a position of power over me in his late 20s started dming me when I was 13 and I thought it was normal.