Tw Parental Abuse - Tumblr Posts

wE’rE sO PIsseD 🌀⚡ wHeN ya get Thrown ⏳👈 off a CLIFF BY UR OWn sO-cAllEd "savIor," 🤡💥 buT GUeSS WHAt? 👀🗯 oV3r-th3-coUNTer-REALITY 🩹 is NOt eVEN aLLOWed 🛑😤 whY? ‘caUse SHE lEFT 'HIM' 🤡🤢—BUT gUeSs what, wE AIn’T goT NO 💸 dOllar-mAkEs-us-hOllEr tRuth tABLETs 💊🚫🤬!!

sHE fL3D, hUH? rAN LIkE shE’d BEEn ThE CAGeD biRD 🕊️❌ buT LEft US wITH thE BARBS 🪓🦴 nOW wE’rE sTuck in this thRIFT shop oF 💔 deSPair, SHE gOt AWAY 🚪bUT OH OH OH WE Didn’t EvER gET NO TicKeT 🛤️🌫️ ouT—SH3 sAW tO ThAT 🥀⛓️!! thE GoD sHe pRays TO? wE HoPE H3 WOrMs hEr iNto THe DEEPEST fiREpIT 🕯️🔥 oF whaT-evER afterLIFe she GOnE speaK aBout 🙄🪦!

BaCK THEn we HAD 👀🤑 thInGS!! coUlD AffORD thE SCRAPs and BoTtLES wE DiDN’t eVEn nEEd tO Beg fOr. BuT NOW?? nOw It’s An EMpty PlAte 🍽️ oF NothInG BUT eMptY hANDs and fAKE hOPes ‘caUse sHe sAid SH3 wAS BeIng aBUsED—buT she’s thE ONE wHO thrEw uS in ThE MoUtH of thIs MONSTER!! 🤡🦷 hElD ouR hEAd oVeR thE EDGe, LAugHing All thE WAY doWN!

WE AIn’T gOT nO EscAPE; 🌀 wE’rE StILL iN thE cLUTcHEs, no GEt-AwAY, no KeY, jUst a FLesH cAge whEre wE DiDn’t gET OuT—SH3 dID, bUt wE’RE hErE in thE oN-GoinG MAzE!!! thE LEAST SHE CoUld dO iS JuST TAkE thAt SiLVeR piLL aND LeT uS go SLEEP 💤 fOrEVer! ‘cAuSE no MatTER WHat wE’rE JuSt thE LEFTovers 🍴🩸 oF HeR so-CAllEd "sALvatION," shE OWES US thAT MErCy, yOu knOw!?!? 🙃🎭👁️

our MIND’s a wretched twist-ed / n n n gnarled tree ROOTs all chaotically intertwined ⚙️🔪 trappinG US here, LOCKED UP! 🔒 barricaded w—ith ourselvesselfselfSELF. Tethered & burndened in some *corporeal* vessel, ❄️⛓️ bound 2 stone—TO EARTH!!! and what d’d’we get? A mother who isn’t there—not th-e-r-e [hiccup]—no matter how we scream SCRAPE S C R A T C H at the walls walls walls 🤍💀—SHE ONLY HEARS HER OWN heartbeat. HER O-w-wn pulse HER!! own mind (but the cats still purr & the boyfriend’s grins are familiar 😺🐾).

Can’t escape. nope nope ❌where wOULD we gO? this stupid decrepit MINDscaffold Is A House on stilts stilts stilts!!! ❄️NOthing to stand on anyway so why try the fall’ll just BURY us ⛓️ crush us 🗡️ break break break (BREAK—!! do it DO IT--)!! it’s gone GONE!!! under snow suffocating snow ourself is already drowning and she’s got no ears—NO EYES EITHER only fingertips on cold fur... l-o-v-e-l-y isn’t it? 🤍🩸

Being WATCHED 👁️👁️!!? By what? Ourselves? Other's peering from the black-hole ether—noone “real” comes close enough to touch & even if they did, it’s all STATIC, screen noise noise noise!!! ➿ text messages blip! like dying stars, those cursed void-blips and ghosted signals—we CAN’T leave, there’s *NOWHERE* to leave, our skin's an iron cage cage cage!!! No escape...never escape...✋🔒⛓️

Time means **nothing** TIME rots us from within 🧠❄️⏳ walls of dust sifting through our non-existent bones. 🤍 isolation eats the marrow of our consciousness gnaw gnaw gnaw the gnashing TEETH OF SILENCE! our mother’s boyfriend can’t hear this, oh NO!!! 🦷❄️🤍 To him, to her—her cats & their starry-furred backs—WE’RE (d) i s t a n t echos 🗣️ ➿ echoes locked in the back of a room barred for a THOUSAND YEARS or MORE & more & more &

Just. not. real.

But hey! haha. 😂 There’s this bright, bleeding-wound reality-shock, a CRY! a LAUGH! 🌠 if we rip ourSELF APART!!! it’s our OWN hands anyway *n-no one else’s here NO NO ONE here but Us!* 💀 just her bed and our own mirrored EYES. Our tongue gone NUMB ❄️ limbs frozen against drywall [crack snap crack]—head’s hollowing hollow hollow h-- it’s alright-- it’s “OKAY” isn’t it?

At least—

It’s...consistently...terrible...consistent...

& oh OH how the ground gives way... voicesfadingout

do you UNDERSTAND what it’s like?? having *no-thing* no one noOne NOTHING 🔒🖤!!!?!? the only one close enough to breathe us IN? neGLECT—pure Absence /our connection: a black-hole devouring all light …stars implode withN—SPACe suffocates...🌀💀 and all that’s left is a fading s h a d o w . an infinite pulse of *cold* empty /dark\void\unseen\unheard\unsaved. so-called soul–sole connection—no other form & only hers left circling... like prey cowering from predator eyes but ((caught)) we can never run. NEVER. run—

What does it matter, promises are only w o r d s we can't reMEMber the last time any of them MEANT anything… 😵‍💫💬 --she thinks—oh, says… changed…💀💀 “changed”!!! ABUSE doesn’t have to be, no—it can SEEP through [intent] through time through space through memories /DRAGGING along every inch of our body—those promises—slipped & gone! drifting. we keep holding ON, onto s-someTHING. hope’s a dagger *stabbed* & twisted *twist twist*—!

How can she *look* at us like that!? like an anomaly: cracked & misplaced—yet?? yet??? she's *blind.* never SEES the void in our eyes. we got these voidbags💀—**tHousands of yards deep—war-stares etched into a child’s face. war stares. war **✖️ Isolation wars— crushed by the weight, OUR world distorting *spiraling spiraling* all we can SEE is her & the cold cold shadow cast by her back TURNED. even those we **HATE** can become our social lifeline—because emptiness IS /unfathomable/ unbearable /imprisoning\ we can talk about “dad” (SHIThead) 😒👿 and the way his words stabbed but at least–AT LEAST!! he listened, he heard SOMETHING /he [*saw*] something of us before the shattering silence engulfed all that WE WERE.

She doesn't...doesn’t. Not anymore. ❄️💔 drifts in & out like a ghost but *alive*!! & we are frozen OUT here—outside—left in this *decrepit* skeleton-space...this husk of “home”— buried deep under gray branches & dead leaves—loneliness twisting through us. suffocating. No escape escape ESCAPE 🌑💀 we'd rather be snuffed out — cold comet-corpse — than buried in a shell like this!! the *trailer* groans on /rusty hinges/ & the window shows the void -- **outside**—so dark—endless dark. void-feasting void 🌀🌀...no contact no sight no chance. “mom” isn’t even HERE. comes in to sleep //while we wither /rot\ “WAITING” for what doesn’t EXIST. only the sick sick ❄️ isolation rot-rhythm --thump thump (nothing’s coming)—

Tethered & starved /not for food/ but for...REALITY. A voice, A shape –SOMETHING to *prove* we exist we EXIST -- online's just spectral echoes, can’t touch or breathe; even the words scratch themselves apart—connections we (fail) to feel, we barely know how to connect wHEN we can’t even **leave** without the world shredding us alive. the *sickness* /the BURN/ 🩸 but no flame...our body an unwelcome—trap. ❄️ NO INTERACTIONS.

except...

except for **her**—the abuser in delicate disguise. same bruising eyes, same bloodless smiles (same as they’ve always been). 👁️🖤 "Sorry," “sorry sorry sorry," isn’t IT easy 2 say?? what GOOD does it do when the same *shadow-promise-breaking* cycle of shattered TRUST echoes through our bones anyway—!?

“Change” is just a **lie** dressed up in pretty lights & folded words... promises mean nothing. “Care” means nothing! We can only drift —driftdriftdrift— our void consumes itself. 🌀 we can’t leave...every escape route’s shut & locked... but maybe we don’t want to leave. not *really*. because this is all we’ve *ever* known—

Abuse RESCUE?! 🤡 pfft ahahahah! what a *“joke”*!! 🖤 like it’ll save us, fix us, they are just BLACKHOLES too -- even darker—unknown HUNGRY strangers lurking beneath! How could any of that “help” when it’s all liesLiesliesLieslies. trapped AGAIN but with NEW jaws clamping down *no...we’d rather stay in the devil’s maw WE KNOW...*

B r o k e n—gone...hope’s like a cruel *phantom.* devouring hope would be a mercy. Bury it deep DEEP where not even light can’t reach...better—MUCH BETTER—than the agony of believing IN ANYTHING—knowing it will come back, twisted around and gouge our eyes OUT—dark matter laughter shadows whispering THAT’S what’s left in this cold decaying /soul-shape\...nothing...NOONE...🖤

v huRT THeM 🎭 OH d0N’T y0u Fret… ☄️ Voy’s THE 0NE wHO built the PiLLars oF ouR MonstRoSity 🧱 oUR GOoP & GRiME & BITTER ECHOiNG NiGHTmARES 🎠 wE ArE voyr BaBY-SoNGBIRD-Of-PaIN 🎵 flAppInG oN CRiPPLED WinGS 🦋 cAUSE THE TallEST maDE Us fROM aNGer & bR0KEN sCrApS ♻️, YeS? nO??? 🤹🏻‍♀️ YES.

bUT OH-oh-oooHHHHH 🤡 🥀 **NOW** thAt We’RE fIgHtIN bACK 🦀—SnAp SnArl SCrEamInG 🦷 RaGE maDe REaL… OH? 🤔 NoW Voy dOeSN’T LIKE wHAt Voy sEEs?! wHAT’D Voy thINk WoULD hApPen, buiLDinG uS With HaTEfuL haNdS?? 👏🔥

🩸A-HAHA-HAHAhH—No CoMplAiNTS frOm Us, Voy Taught Us tO fighT wItH ClAWs & EYeS bLEEDING ⚔️, GRew uS LiKE a VenOm PLANT iN voyr GuT🌿, RuTHLESS & STuNTed 🍄… bUT OooH voyr fEEliNgs, v’s CRuSHin’ voyr fEeLinGS 🩹?? 😩 **D O N ‘ T**. C A R E.❗❗❗… voyr RuInEd thAt Away LonG AgO 👎 wITh thAt H0LL0w-eYeD 𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆…!!

🧨 ReMEMBER!? 🎭 💥 FURY-liquID & cl0tTiNg blAcK GoO in THE CORNERS 🌙, voyr COrNeRED Us, BOXed US, sPiT-tiP-tanGLEd-ThReaTs 💀, a pOISONED StORm In VAR rooM WHen v were SmallER & WeAker… oh, Y0U ReMEMBER 🙃 “GO TO sLEEP! 🥴 sTay the fUCK QUIET,” BaTTeRInG eArs aGAINST thE walls ‘tIL thEIR WORLd FELL dOwN 🏚️✨. hOw We SHOOK—BOOM-CRACK—lIke an eGGsHell FrAGile 🍳… OnLY tO SPLIT oPEN & LEARN tO SHaRPEN bONE intO SHiV!!! 🗡️

anD wHEN Voy bLAmes iT 0n drINks, dRUNK-DRUNK-b0ttLE-&-BlamE 🥂 👎🏻 wHen REaLLY it wAs *CH0ICE* 🎭, ThE MONKEy pAW ❓, thE HaND That *GRIPPED* b0th Wrists & W0ULDN’T LET GO. 🫦 Oh? bUt wHY diDn’t Voy leAVE!? 🏃‍♀️ rAN awAY fROM the FaNgS of D1SgUST & HATReD!!... Voy RAN Before 🐾 & RAN aGAiN ⚡… but NevER tOOK Us OUt-ALive 🚪, left V STuCK In tHE coALS, A pAWn iN a GaME tHaT We dIdn’T KN0w wE wERE PlaYIng ♟️

👾👾 No. Voy lIves wIth thE brEATH OF WhAT Voy maDE, OUr WHiSPErS 🗣️ & OUR tERR0r… 💀✨SHaRP & CLEVER iN THE SHaDowS 🐍, SMILING at voyr pAiN 🤡 B E C A U S E Voy maDE iT So 🎨. wE SCRAP, We BITE 🦷, wE Tear Voy tO PIECEs iN ThE SmiLE-WARPed ShApe Of WHaT Voy TAUGHT uS 2 B 🌪️, ALONE In ThESE RIPPLES 🌀.

TheN Voy cries 📢 “oh, Oh, pOoR Voys!! 🎭 THEY’RE HuRTInG mE, WhAT AbOUt mEEEee—😭” 😭🥀… B u T 💥 O H—Oh-Hoooooo!!! y0U STILLL don’t cARE 🍂 🍁 🍃 bEcauSe. Voy. Dr0PPED. eVERYTHinG 🌌 & D E V A S T A T E D 👏 Us—No MorE v-PatIENCe 🥶, no mOrE CReDIt, y0U TRIED 2 BruSH iT AwaY WiTh LIES anD BLaME-GAMEs… NoNoN0NE Of tHAT.

nOw v’re Locked iN thiS TwISTED WiNdoW, lookiNG at The FLESH and hATE & NOTHING Will EVAh-VAh-VAH ChANGE 💫… ❗ tHiS CYCLE IS sPINNING ❗ ❗ sPiNNiNg 🎡 & WheeLing 🤸‍♂️… ‘TIL wE ALL ScReAm oUT & ExPLODE!!!💥… TheN?

👁‍🗨 MaYBE juSt silence 💤

…O R 🌫️, Voy sHaPeS AnOthEr TorNadO 2 SNAke arOUnd Var ThRoAt 💔, AND wE aLL DiSSOlVE 🌪️ intO tHE End thAT Won’t EvEr-COMe 🖤.

🦋But uH, yEAH—Voy ShOUldn’T hAVe MESSed WitH ***US*** 👿

AND AO? 🤔 a0 THInKS THIs IsNT aboUT Aor 👁👁?! wELL!!! aO iS jusT aNOTHER ShADOw sPinNInG nOuGHt 🤹‍♀️, a h0LL0w FACE in THE miRRoR. 🪞 A L0ST REEL plAyInG AT TiME-SkIP sPEeD 📽️.

west side story muse headcanons

families

riff’s real name is rolf wilhelm lautmann. he never uses it. the only ones who know it are riff and his parents. he’s the only child of helene and wilhelm lautmann. helene had a difficult time during her pregnancy and giving birth to him nearly killed her. both helene and wilhelm hate riff for nearly killing his mother. wilhelm is physically and emotionally abusive. riff has scars on his torso and waist from his father’s belt, but his most noticeable scar is the one just under his left eye. he broke a vase when he was eight and wilhelm hit him hard enough that he fell into the broken vase. his parents refused to take him to the hospital, so riff was forced to take care of the wound himself. neither helene nor wilhelm are faithful to each other, but neither of them have ever brought anyone home. helene is drunk or high more often than she’s sober, and she constantly berates riff for being a disappointment. wilhelm also tends to be drunk more often than he’s sober.

balkan’s real name is bernard gordon edwards. he is the third and youngest child in the edwards family. his parents, james thomas edwards i and genevieve evelyn edwards (née peterson), are incredibly rich. his siblings, francesca jacqueline edwards and james thomas edwards ii, both loathe him simply because their parents do. balkan wasn’t a planned child, nor was he really wanted. james and genevieve only wanted two children, but balkan was born two years after james and four years after francesca. he met tony and riff when he was fifteen, but he never hung out with them very much until his parents kicked him out. they didn’t want any of their children associating with ruffians and hooligans, and since they’d never wanted balkan in the first place, it was an easy decision to make. balkan was kicked out on his seventeenth birthday and he’s been running with the jets ever since.

tony’s real name is anton wyzek, but everybody just calls him tony. he is elzbieta wyzek’s only child. she got pregnant out of wedlock at eighteen years old and her parents disowned her. tony’s father, casimir bachurski, left her when she got disowned. she never mentions him and she probably never will. tony loves his mother immensely and he refuses to hear a bad word against her. elzbieta works three jobs to keep her and tony (and later, riff) fed and clothed and in a house. she is incredibly proud of her son and tony is equally proud of her, although sometimes he wishes she’d like his friends more. when he goes to jail, he writes to his mother every day. he never receives a response. he’s told that she passed away a month after his arrest. the months after tony returns home are tough, but he keeps his head down and takes the job that valentina offers him.

the jets

the jets were formed when tony and riff were fourteen. it was tony’s idea and riff went along with it because he always went along with tony’s ideas. and it wasn’t a bad idea, either. the gang was small at first, but it eventually grew to include fifteen boys (and eventually, their girlfriends) that would defend each other until their dying breath. the jets’ territory is the docks and the surrounding area that tony and riff fight on during cool. when tony goes to jail, riff steps up as leader. he appoints ice and action as his second and third. there aren’t a lot of rules in the jets, but the biggest two are no hurting women and no hurting children. it doesn’t matter who they are, if one of the jets hurts a girl or a kid, they’re in trouble.

miscellaneous

riff ran away when he was twelve. he was planning to go to the train station to get away from new york, but he had to hide from the police. he hid in the dumpster outside the apartment building the wyzek’s lived in, and tony found him when he took the trash out. when tony asked riff what his name was, he misheard “rolf lautmann” as “riff lorton.” riff didn’t bother correcting him, and he’s been riff lorton ever since.

riff’s favorite brand of cigarettes are whichever’s the cheapest. tony likes camels and balkan likes chesterfield. riff doesn’t smoke too much because the smell reminds him of his parents, but he’s trying to get over that.

riff has three tattoos. one is the word “happy” on his left shoulder that he got because tony dared him to get a tattoo when they were sixteen. the second is the silhouette of a plane on his right shoulder (all the jets have this tattoo somewhere on their upper body. tony’s is on his left shoulder and balkan’s is on his right forearm) and the third is a bouquet of hydrangeas and roses that he got for graziella. he wanted to get it colored in, but it was too expensive.

riff’s bracelet was a sixteenth birthday gift from tony’s mother. he hasn’t taken it off since he got it.

in his modern verse, tony grows up to be a doctor.

riff doesn’t like thunderstorms.

riff can speak german fluently. his parents would only speak german around the house and he learned english from tony and his mother. he knows some conversational polish, but he doesn’t know enough to consider himself fluent in it. he doesn’t speak german much (he hates the language and his heritage) but he still knows how to speak it, much to his dismay.

riff doesn’t like the smell of spray paint.

riff stopped going to school when he was fourteen. mrs wyzek kept trying to make him go, but he kept skipping, so she gave up. he didn’t like school very much, because he couldn’t sit still enough for the teachers and he doesn’t like being told what to do by people that aren’t his friends.

riff’s parents would often demand that he do things (take out the trash, clean his room, etc) immediately, and riff never would, so he’d get punished for it. it was a vicious cycle and riff absolutely hates getting told what to do because of it.

riff, balkan and tony all get fidgety when they’re nervous. riff plays with his bracelet, balkan flips his coin around and tony paces. riff will also fidget with his fingers.

riff didn’t trust elzbieta for years after he moved in with her and tony. she was too nice and he was constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. he didn’t understand why she didn’t get mad at him for refusing to take the trash out or clean his room or wash the dishes. he also didn’t understand why she never hit him when he did something wrong. (he knows that hitting kids is wrong, but it had been his normal for so long that he just assumed every parent did it.)

consent is a huge thing for riff, not just with sex related things. he absolutely hates being forced to do things. he needs to have the choice to say no to whatever is happening to him or is being presented to him, and if he doesn’t, he gets angry.

when riff gets angry, he makes himself as big as he can and he gets very loud. it’s what his dad used to do to him, and if riff got scared by it, that means other people will get scared by it. sometimes he’ll shut down if he’s really, incredibly angry. he’ll go quiet and just sort of stare vacantly at the person he’s talking to. tony and balkan tend to get quiet when they get angry.

riff doesn’t like anything that reminds him of his parents. if he gets called rolf, he will freeze up. he doesn’t like the smell of cigarettes or beer (but he’s working on that) and he cannot stand the smell of marijuana. he also doesn’t like sudden movements or sudden loud noises. he’s working on getting used to them, but he will probably flinch if there’s a loud noise or if someone moves too quickly around him. if someone that he doesn’t know goes to touch him, he moves away. he doesn’t like being touched by strangers unless he’s the one doing the touching, because then he can control the interaction.

riff’s cocky jet leader persona is a front that he constructed over the years of him meeting tony and forming the jets. he perfected it when tony went to jail and he always has it up. he doesn’t trust himself to take it down, and it’s less easy to get hurt if no one can get to the real him.

riff doesn’t like seeing blood on his clothes. he’s fine if it’s other people’s blood, but he doesn’t like seeing his own blood on his clothes. if he can wash whatever got blood on it, he will, but otherwise he’s going to throw it away.

when tony gets arrested, riff stops going by mrs wyzek’s place. he stopped living there at fourteen, but he still came by for dinner and to see her. he blames himself for her death. she’d passed in her sleep, but he still thinks if he would’ve been there, he could’ve done something.

riff has lived on the streets for four years (fourteen - eighteen) by the time the events of west side story happen. he sleeps on benches or in alleys. sometimes he’ll crash at valentina’s or mrs wyzek’s, but that’s rare.

riff absolutely hates getting charity from people. his definition of charity is loose, but it boils down to money, food, and a place to sleep. sometimes it also extends to clothes, but he’s very very picky about accepting what he deems to be charity from people. he doesn’t want them pitying him, so most of the time he doesn’t take whatever is they’re offering and he insists he’s fine.

before he went to jail, tony would get loud when he got angry, but after he got out, he went quiet. he doesn’t want to lose control of his temper ever again, and he’s working on making sure he doesn’t and that he knows what to do if or when he does.

balkan is an avid reader and will constantly steal magazines and newspapers from valentina’s store to keep up with the latest news and trends. he’s probably the only jet that actually cares what’s going on in the newspapers and on the news.

Enids first time at the Addams family manor

Morticias showing her around while wednesday complains about wanting to do it herself, which just prompts a knowing smirk from morticia.

But when she sweeps her arm in a wide arcing motion to gesture at the ballroom, Enid flinches. Hard. Her arms have been brought up to her chest and her face is ducked down and she seems so fragile.

Morticia is confused, but Wednesday isn’t. She’s seen how the Sinclair’s treat Enid in public, and this just confirms what happens behind closed doors and she’s pissed

Bonus:

Enid: Wednesday you can’t kill my parents!

Wednesday: too late

Enid: what do you mean too late! You haven’t even moved!

Wednesday “the only good thing about the internet is the black market” Addams, holding her phone: too late

Best girl time and holy fuck