#tw self-neglect

[mauselet]

The Influencer - And All Is Not Fine

This story is for @ask-the-rag-dolly's blog, specifically The Influencer AU. Honestly, loving the blog so much. Huge thanks to Mod Bee for creating it and if you haven't already, go check out her blog.

Big thanks to WanderingDragon and Foolscap Hamato for helping with the fic.

Yes, the story is named after Entropy by Awkward Marina lyrics. Also, the anon/s that speak in orange and red, you got a reference in there cause it felt fitting.

Well, I really hope you enjoy this story!

Story includes: Ragatha X Pomni (but can be taken as platonically), angst, hurt/comfort

TW body horror, possessive behavior, possession, anxiety/panic attack, haphephobia/fear of being touched, questioning sanity, self-neglect

It's been a few weeks since Pomni found out that there were currently hundreds of voices inside Ragatha's head. Wow, and after all this time it didn't sound any less insane. From what Pomni understood, those voices were a virus that had infected the circus and latched onto Ragatha. They couldn't tell Caine about this because he'd likely kill them and Ragatha refused that. For some reason, she wanted to protect them which seemed even crazier than the whole situation. Some of them were friendly, sure, but others…

They attacked Jax, causing him to glitch out. They taunted Ragatha by plaguing her mind with the worst cases imaginable or calling her names or taking her too literally. They spawned that stupid paper shredder!

Oh, how Pomni hated that thing! The next time she sees one, she’ll personally smash it into pieces.

In short, the voices–all of them–stressed Ragatha out. And who could blame her? Sometimes even your own voice in your head can drive you mad. Pomni was actually impressed that the doll hadn’t reached her breaking point yet with these “anons”, as they called themselves, constantly following her.

Of course, it wasn’t all that bad. Sure, they led to Ragatha temporarily losing her arm, but it was also thanks to them that she worked up the courage to speak to Pomni again. The thought of that always brought a smile to the jester’s face.

She was glad she could talk to her. Not only because Ragatha was nice and overall pleasant to be around, but it was also good for the ragdoll; especially now that she avoided the other circus performers to prevent another Jax fiasco or a possible infection.

The redhead’s absence was noticed by the others and to Pomni’s surprise, they were concerned about her. When Pomni first arrived, she was too busy spiraling down her anxiety to see it, but these trapped souls were friends. They cared about one another, even if it’d be in their own strange ways. So Pomni decided to reassure them all with daily reports on how Ragatha was doing.

And that was usually the extent of her interactions with them. Until Caine’s adventures forced her to stick around the whole day. Sometimes she was able to avoid them, however, there were times when she just couldn’t no matter how hard she tried. Unfortunately for her, adventures like these stacked over the course of the last few days, making it basically impossible for Pomni to check on Ragatha.

By the third or fourth day, Pomni was getting anxious. Throughout the adventure, her fingers were constantly convulsing while stuck in an unnatural position, her eyes turned into scribbles and her thoughts were as far away from the game as possible.

Ragatha must’ve been lonely. It’s been days since she’s interacted with anyone. Well…since she’s interacted with someone who meant no harm to her. Hopefully, she was alright…

Pomni suddenly jerked and snapped out of her thoughts as a gloved hand waved in front of her eyes. Her head shot up and she saw Kinger, Zooble and Gangle who announced to her that they found a way to replace her in today’s adventure and that she could go see Ragatha. If she had to be honest, she didn’t even know what the adventure was, but if she really wasn’t needed there…

She gave the three of them a quick smile and dashed to Ragatha’s room as fast as her short legs could carry her. As soon as she arrived and caught her breath, she rang the bell, waiting and…

Waiting.

Pomni felt a pit in her stomach. No, no, no. She shook her head. Everything’s fine, it’s just taking a bit. She rang again.

“R-Ragatha? It’s me, Pomni. A-are you in there?”

But she was still left waiting.

“Ragatha!” she raised her voice, yet still no response.

Oh God, three days… Three whole days with nothing but those voices. That must’ve been a nightmare for the doll and Pomni left her dealing with that alone. She left her again…

“I’m coming in!” she announced and reached for the doorknob. Her body froze as she held it, overwhelmed by worried thoughts, but also by a sense of déjà vu. She chuckled darkly at the memory of desperately wanting to know what was behind a door she shouldn’t go through and then opened.

A wave of relief washed over Pomni as she wasn’t instantly met with a glitching blob with a thousand glowing eyeballs. She walked in and closed the door behind her.

She looked around the room and her heart skipped a beat. Ragatha was there, sitting on her bed, sewing what appeared to be a suit. She was so focused on her work; maybe that's why she didn't register the bell. Pomni can't actually remember if she'd ever seen her this focused, but she looked surprisingly calm and, the jester had to admit, quite pretty. 

“Um…Ragatha?” the short woman started, walking over, “I'm sorry for barging in, I was just worried when you didn't answer.” But the ragdoll didn't respond; it was as if she didn’t even notice that Pomni was in the room talking to her.

Was she ignoring her? Was she mad? Did she…hate her? All of those thoughts sounded really ridiculous considering that this was Ragatha we were talking about. She doesn’t even allow herself to hate Jax, someone who’s caused more than enough harm to her, so there is no way she’d ever hate Pomni. Right…? Yet all those thoughts, as unrealistic as they might’ve seemed, felt like real possibilities to Pomni.

Somehow despite Jax putting her worst fear in her room, voices constantly screaming at her and hurting her and Caine forcing her into some of the most dangerous scenarios, not being there for her seemed like the biggest crime of them all.

Well, there was only one way to fix it.

“I’m so sorry I took so long,” Pomni let out, her steps slowing down, “I tried to check on you, but Caine’s adventures-”

“Oh, it’s alright, dear,” hearing that gentle voice, Pomni stopped. It was nice hearing her again, but something felt off. Sure, Ragatha occasionally used pet names like hun or sweetheart or even dear–oh geez, Pomni felt her cheeks heating up just thinking about it—that wasn’t the issue. She sounded more nonchalant than reassuring.

That didn’t matter right now. She wasn’t mad and that brought a smile to Pomni’s face. However, that didn’t last long as the doll finally raised her head.

Pomni’s face turned paler than usual if it was even possible, the pinwheel eyes shrunk, making them nearly invisible and her smile vanished as if it was never there.

Oh %$!#... Oh %$!#! No, no, no, no, no, no, no, NO! This wasn’t… This couldn’t have been real!

She wasn’t just staring at a black void with two colorful eyes where Ragatha’s button was supposed to be. She wasn’t just witnessing her friend slowly abstracting in front of her! She wasn’t… She wasn’t…

This wasn’t real!

It… It was just one of the digital hallucinations that Caine mentioned. Yeah! That’s it! That’s…That’s what it…was…

But those eyes, that void, they were still there, no matter how much Pomni convinced herself about the opposite.

Caine. She had to go get Caine! As Ragatha said once, maybe there was still time to fix this.

“Stay here!” Pomni blurted out, “I’ll be right back!” She quickly turned around and ran to the door. She’s going to come back this time. This time she won’t let Ragatha suffer.

She reached for the doorknob, but before she could grab it, arms wrapped around her and she was pulled back. One of the arms held her abdomen while the other was around her neck, not too tight yet still uncomfortable.

Feeling the fabric arms against her skin made her dizzy and itchy. She could sense every single pixel touching her, causing goosebumps to spread over her body.

“Where are you going, dear~?” she heard a whisper in her ear. It was Ragatha’s gentle, calming voice- No. It sounded different and…wrong. The voice was demanding and rough.

Pomni’s breath hitched. Was really something wrong with Ragatha? Or was her mind just messing with her? Well, the physical contact didn’t exactly help her think clearly as her body was plagued with this disgusting sensation.

“Don’t leave me~” For whatever reason, those words made the black-haired woman sick.

The doll’s embrace tightened. The touch of the fabric felt so venomous and paralyzing. It felt sickening. It felt wrong.

The jester wanted to escape that trap. She needed to escape it, yet no matter how much the voice in her head screamed at her body to move, it wouldn’t budge an inch. She was frozen in such a predicament with nothing but her racing heart, uneven breath, and voice stuck in her throat.

She attempted to take a deep breath, only to leave herself coughing.

“Are you alright, dear?” That voice again. It made shivers run down Pomni’s spine.

She sucked in another breath and let out a very weak and broken “Ragatha”. She repeated this a few times until she made a sensible sentence: “Ragatha… Please, let go…”

“Let go?” the doll wondered innocently, “why would I do that?”

“Please…” the jester mouthed.

“It’s not like I want to hurt you.” The grip tightened even more. “I would never hurt you. I would never-” The taller woman went silent. She felt the pale jester in her arms trembling and her heart dropped.

“Pomni…” Ragatha let out softly and her embrace loosened, “y-you’re shaking…” Rather than talking to Pomni, however, she seemed to have told it to herself. Reminding it to herself as if just physically feeling it wasn't enough to make it sink in. 

Even some of the voices were yelling at her to let go while the others objected. Was it the good or bad ones? What even made them good or bad? Were there even any bad voices? Were there even any good voices?

The voices that objected weren’t yelling, but whispering yet they were somehow much louder than the yells.

“Don’t listen to them–” “You can’t let go–” “You can–!” “She’ll find Caine and tell him about us–” “She wouldn’t–” “It’s too great of a risk–!” “If Caine finds out about us, we’ll be–” “What would happen to Rags–?”

“Ragatha, don’t you care about us? Don’t you care about what happens to you?!”

She flinched, instinctively tensing her hold on Pomni. In no way did she help the situation, with the jester’s body convulsing out of control.

“What is it, dolly? Are we too much for you to handle? Are we too loud? Can you even tell the difference between us and your own thoughts? Is there even a difference at this point?”

Oh God, her knees felt weak, her head was spinning, and tears filled her eye. She felt like she was about to collapse at any moment, but there was something forcing her to stand. Something kept her body like this against her will despite her exhaustion.

“Oh, dollface, do you feel the abstraction crawling under your skin? Or well, fabric? Did we do it? Did we f̴i̷n̴a̵l̸l̴y̸ ̶b̷r̸e̶a̵k̷ ̶y̷o̴u̵?̸”

All the voices then started shouting over one another again. Ragatha couldn’t even make out what they were saying as it all blended into an incoherent mess. With so much noise in her head, she wanted to join them. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs; let out all her frustration not just with the voices, but with her whole body. It would be a beautiful relief, but even that was a luxury. Her body wouldn’t let her. They wouldn’t let her.

She’d swear that in the middle of all the noise she heard things that made her want to throw up. She hoped that it was just her imagination and her brain tried to give those noises some meaning, however… That would mean it was her own thoughts and that creeped her out even more. Strangely, some of those words weren’t anything bad, they were just…words. Yet they all sounded so disgusting. So wrong. Every last one of them.

Every last one…

Every last–

“Please…” One voice silenced all of them despite how weak and broken it was. No… No, it was loud and clear. It was…real.

It hit her like a truck. Everything that just happened in the span of a few minutes. How Pomni walked into the room, apologizing. How terrified the jester was when she saw her. How she stopped her when she tried to leave. How she was holding her this whole time despite the pain she was clearly causing Pomni.

Ragatha jumped back, letting go of the jester, allowing her to collapse to her knees. The small woman was sitting there, swinging back and forth, hyperventilating. She reached her hands to her arms as if to brace herself, but she didn’t touch. Instead, she grabbed her hat and pulled, her eyes shut. The bells one would associate with joy and fun now sounded distorted to both of the performers. The bells were… unnerving.

“Oh my gosh…” Ragatha let out as it all sank in. She covered her mouth and a tear ran down her face as she stared down at the black-haired woman. Her heart was breaking at the sight. “Oh my gosh…”

She did this… No, no, no. The voices did. Right…? She…She wasn’t in control, was she?

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry,” she mumbled, although, she wasn’t sure if Pomni could even hear her, “I-I lost control of them.” She cried more. “I messed up. Ragatha, you idiot… You %$!# idiot! You scared her. You hurt her! Why would I…? I would never-”

She felt tears rolling down her right cheek too, but that wasn’t possible. She wiped the tears with her hand and when she looked at it, her fingertips were covered by dark liquid.

Her heart stopped, realizing what that was. The dark void was leaking. The voices were right…

The bells on Pomni’s head rang again, causing Ragatha to snap out of those thoughts. There was something more important she had to do than pity herself. Her emotions could wait. Her abstraction could wait! She didn’t matter right now. She didn’t matter at all! Pomni did.

Despite her own breakdown, she rushed over to the jester, kneeling in front of her. She was in tears, barely thinking straight, potentially on the verge of abstracting, but Pomni mattered more.

Ragatha reached her hand towards the pale woman but flinched when she realized it wasn’t the brightest idea considering what caused this in the first place. She instead laid her hands on her own knees so Pomni could see them.

“Hey, Pomni?” she spoke up, her voice trembling. That sure was reassuring…

C’mon, Ragatha! Get a hold of yourself! Pomni needs you! Don’t freak her out.

She took a deep breath and ran her hand through her yarn, brushing it over her right eye to hide it. She curled her hands into fists and calmed her breath before speaking.

“Pomni, hun?” She was doing her best to keep her voice stable this time. “Look at me, please. Hun, look at me.” Pomni cringed, her body still going back and forth. “It’s okay, it’s just me. The real me, I promise,” Ragatha continued, “I just need you to look at me.” The big eyes slowly opened, showing scribbles, and looked up. “That’s it.” Ragatha smiled at her brightly. “Good job, sweetheart. Good job.”

The smaller woman was still trembling, still pulling at her hat, still swinging back and forth, still not controlling her breath. 

“Alright, dear-”

Pomni flinched at that, tears streaming down her face as she looked away. 

“O-okay! Okay,” Ragatha said in an unintentional panic. She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to freak you out. I won't call you that again, I promise. I promise. You’re safe now.”

Still in tears, the jester stopped pulling at her hat, yet the bells kept ringing. Each sob was accompanied by a happy metallic chime as her body jerked. Ragatha had to admit that it made her wails quite adorable and each little jingle seemingly made a voice in her head disappear each time. But she wished more than anything that they'd stop.

“Pomni?” Ragatha knew she had to keep trying. “Hey, Pompom, hun… Can you look at me again?”

The smaller woman didn't seem to listen. She then choked on her sobs as they didn't mix well with her rapid breathing. Seeing this, some of the voices panicked, but Ragatha had to stay calm. She instinctively lifted her hand from her knee, however, thankfully stopped herself from touching Pomni. 

“Please?” the ragdoll’s soothing voice asked and Pomni couldn't deny it. The black-haired woman turned to her, scribbles in her bloodshot eyes. 

“Good job.” A smile of relief and reassurance formed on Ragatha's face. “Now, honey, you're having another episode, but that's okay. It's okay, I'll help you through it. I’m not going anywhere. We'll get through it  together, okay?”

Pomni nodded slowly, choking on her sobs again. 

“I need you to breathe with me,” Ragatha told her, “four seconds in, hold and six out. Four, hold, six.” She waited for Pomni to nod again before she took a deep breath that the jester immediately followed, yet struggling. They held their breath, but sniffles broke them. Then they exhaled together. 

“Now, let's try again.”

And as Ragatha said, they did. Breathing was much easier for Pomni this time around. 

“You're doing great,” the redhead praised her, “are you able to go on your own?” She watched as Pomni nodded and took another deep breath with her eyes shut. “Good, keep going. You’re safe, hun. Focus on me, okay?”

When Pomni opened her eyes again, they were back to their pinwheel look. Ragatha also noticed that she stopped shaking and the swinging slowed down. Her smile widened in relief.

She kept talking to Pomni while the jester calmed her breath. They were like this for a few more minutes until…

“R-Ragatha…?” Pomni finally spoke up and the ragdoll gasped quietly.

“Welcome back, sweetheart,” Ragatha greeted her, “you feeling any better?”

“A little…” Pomni’s voice was still pretty weak, but she had much more to say. She held her hands together, rubbing her thumb with the other. “But I should be the one asking you.”

“What are you talking about?” Ragatha shook her head. “I just helped you through a panic attack-”

“And I’m forever grateful for that,” the jester blurted out, “but, Ragatha… You’re on the verge of abstracting!” They both flinched at the yell and Ragatha covered the black void on her face despite being hidden behind the hair. “And it’s all because of me.” Pomni shifted her eyes away. “Because I left you when you needed me. Again!”

“Pomni, you can’t blame yourself for that. It wasn’t your fault.”

“‘Can’t blame yourself?’ You’re the one to talk,” the pale woman scuffed. She then took a deep breath. “Sorry.”

“No, you have all the right to call me out.”

“Did it happen because of… them?” Pomni glanced at the taller woman, her eyes narrowing at the last word.

“I think so,” Ragatha replied and noticed Pomni inhaling to speak, but she quickly interrupted her, “that’s why you can’t tell Caine.”

“But, Rag-”

“You promised.”

“And you said you wanted this to stop,” Pomni reminded her, raising her voice, “I understand you don’t want them to die, but think about what they’re doing to you. Stress? Mental breakdowns? Abstraction?!” The doll lowered her head in shame. “Rags, you’re suffering and I can’t bear to watch. You care about the people around you and I appreciate that, but for once in this digital life think about yourself first.”

“No need to worry, darling,” Ragatha said calmly, looking up with a bright smile as if the topic was just a casual small talk, “the anons are actually what keeps me from abstracting, otherwise I’d be in the cellar by now.” Pomni cringed at every word due to how cheerfully the doll said them. “We’re also really, really sorry for touching you. We were so afraid of you telling Caine that we had to stop you somehow. Sorry we hurt you.”

Pomni was just staring at her, an unsure expression painted on her face. This all felt wrong and Ragatha’s next words didn’t ease that feeling.

“I’m fine, really. I’m sure that I can join in on the adventures again soon.”

No, that wasn’t right. She just said she’s afraid of Caine finding out, why does she suddenly want to take part in his adventures? And that wasn’t the only thing off.

“What happened to staying in your room to prevent infecting people with the virus?” Pomni wondered, “don’t get me wrong, the others would be happy to see you and they’re definitely worried about you. Heck, Zooble, Gangle and Kinger helped me get out of an adventure to check up on you; it’s just…”

“You’ve been spending so much time with me and you’re not influenced,” Ragatha pointed out.

Well, Pomni couldn’t argue with that. There were still many other issues with this seemingly spontaneous idea, but the more she thought about them the less sense her reasoning as to why they were even issues made. It was as if her mind was getting blurrier the more she tried to use her brain. She must’ve been tired from her previous meltdown.

“I guess you have a point.” She let out a sigh and smiled at the woman softly, but then… Did Ragatha have that wide grin on her face before? That didn’t matter right now; she needed some rest.

“Look, I know I haven’t been here in a while, but I should really go into my room and take a nap,” she explained.

“Oh, no worries, d̶e̶a̸r̴,” Ragatha replied, “have a nice sleep.”

“I’ll try. Thanks.” Pomni stood up and headed to the door. She grabbed the doorknob and turned back. “And I mean it, try thinking about yourself. It isn’t hard to care about you; me and at least three other people can agree on that.” Her smile widened as she opened the door. “And Ragatha? …I… Thank you for helping me through the attack, I really appreciate it. You’re a great friend.”

She then closed the door and stayed in the room. 

She originally planned on finding Caine the moment she was outside. She was well aware that Ragatha didn't want that, however, Pomni was willing to do anything to help her stop hurting. She didn't care if Ragatha hated her for it–she was sure she would–she just wanted her friend to be safe.

But as much as she wanted that, she couldn't bring her body to go through with it. It was as if it didn't obey her. 

“Don't leave me,” she remembered the doll's words. No, it wasn't a memory; it felt like someone just whispered in her ear. 

That's crazy. It was just her imagination. Nothing else. 

“Pomni, please. Don't leave,” Ragatha's voice begged her. It sounded so real. But there was no way Ragatha's whispers could reach her, right?

The more she thought about it, the more her mind was filled with white noise, static. And the longer that went on, the more that noise made sense to her as if it spoke to her. 

“I'm scared,” one noise was much louder. Ragatha's voice.

Pomni's not leaving her again.

She let go of the doorknob and turned around to see the ragdoll still sitting on her knees, showing Pomni her back. 

“Actually, can I stay here?” the jester asked, “I don't want you to be alone and…I'd also feel more comfortable with some company.”

“Why of course,” the doll replied, the huge grin remaining on her face. She got up and headed over to her bed. Reaching into her hair, she pulled out her bow and used it to tie her hair up in a ponytail.

“You can take a nap in my bed,” she said. 

“Oh.” Pomni blushed a little, not only at the offer but also due to the redhead’s sudden hairdo change. Whatever it was, it had some strong influence on Pomni. "Thanks."

Once at her bed, Ragatha picked up the suit she was working on when Pomni first walked in. It was nearly done. It truly was clothing worthy of someone as powerful as her; someone with influence stronger than the ringmaster himself.

#[ the influencer ] #the amazing digital circus #theinfluencer!ragatha #tadc ragatha #tadc pomni #fanfiction #tw body horror #tw panic attack #tw self destructive behavior #tw self-neglect #ragapom #buttonblossom #jesterdoll #pomni x ragatha #but like can be platonic #tw possession #tw possessive behavior #the others are mentioned but very briefly #I love writing my favorite characters being possessed #angst #hurt/comfort #The Influencer really said gaslight gatekeep girlboss guiltrip #let me know if i need to tag anything else

[dirtyheathencommie]

DEAR EDUCATIONALLY NEGLECTED HOMESCHOOLERS

I’ve gathered some resources and tips and tricks on self-educating after educational neglect. This is only what I did and what I know helped me. I’m about to graduate college with honors after having no education past the age of 9. I wouldn’t be here without the following. Everything is free, and at/well above the standard for education in the US.

The holy grail: Khan Academy. Nearly every course you could take is available here, in order and by grade level. Their open-source free courses rival some of the college classes I’ve taken. This is your most solid resource.

For inattentive types: Crash Course offers a variety of courses that are snappy, entertaining, and extremely rewarding. They work for my ADHD brain. They also have college prep advice, which is essential if you’re looking to go to higher education with no classroom experience.

To catch up on your reading: There are certain books that you may have read had you gone to school that you’ve missed out on. This list is the most well-rounded and can fill you in on both children’s books and classic novels that are essential or at least extremely helpful to be familiar with. You can find a majority of these easily at a local library (and some for free in PDF form online low key). There are a few higher level classics in here that I’d highly recommend. If it doesn’t work for you, I’d always recommend asking your local librarian.

*BE AWARE* The book list I recommend suggests you read Harry Potter books, and given their transphobic author you may or may not want to read them. If you choose to, I’d highly recommend buying the books secondhand or borrowing from a library to avoid financially supporting a living author with dangerous and damaging views.

TEST, TEST, TEST: Again, Khan Academy is your go-to for this. I don’t personally like standardized testing, but going through SAT and ACT courses was the best way I found to really reveal my gaps so that I could supplement.

Finally: As much as you can, enjoy the process. Education can be thrilling and teach you so much about yourself, and help shape your view of the world. It can get frustrating, but I’d like to encourage you that everyone can learn. No pace is the perfect pace, and your learning style is the right learning style for you. In teaching yourself, be patient, be kind, and indulge in the subjects you really enjoy without neglecting others. You are your teacher. Give yourself what others chose not to.

#if you have any questions please don’t hesitate to message me anything #I’ll help however I can #homeschool #ex fundamentalist #ex homeschool #ex homeschooled #educational neglect #education #self education #ex fundie #send me asks #homeschool recovery #resources #educate yourself #ex christian #exvangelical #religious trauma #tw religion #deconstructing christianity

[loveyourlovelysoul]

Sometimes we seek external validation in order to feel like we can still earn the love and approval we might have been denied in our childhood or past experience/s. We can do this in many different ways, developing different "abilities" in order to have our emotional needs met "at all costs": for example we become a perfectionist (we were praised only after overworking/reaching certain results); we start people pleasing (we were taught others cannot leave if we're what they search for and are always there for them no matter what); we learned to downplay our needs to avoid conflicts or problems of sort...

These (and others too) are all copying mechanisms we developed to fill the void/emotional neglect/absence of unconditional love we've been experiencing in our past. Living this way though can make us develop other problems in our self: eg. digestive problems, chronic stress, dissociation. But the thing is: no matter what we do or how much we change, an emotionally immature caregiver is blocked by their own self limitations and fixed views so they won't show up for us as we need.

And it's not our fault: they just weren't given the correct infos to handle their emotions and cannot see where they're going wrong (maybe also cause they were taught from another wounded generation that this is how you do things, no matter if they pain you or what), so please forgive yourself and free yourself from shame and guilt. It's not your fault if your caregivers couldn't show you that you don't have to gain love in any way cause you're already lovely and worthy as you are.

The moment you miss your parents' love in your childhood (a foundational moment of the life of any human being), you carry this void in your adulthood and it may even get enhanced, or make you search for the same type of relationship where you need to show up in a certain way to feel like you deserve love (and this keeps you stauck in the same place of pain and self hurt). You will always need to seek approval, to act in a certain way, fear being abandoned, wonder about your worth/being enough, and that's cause of your rooted habit born from the lack of emotional consistent support.

To get out of this cycle, try to understand why and how you had to develop this copying mechanism and why you keep it in your life these days (ofc ask for help to professional figures too if you need). You can get out of it and find the right emotional nourishment you need and deserve: let yourself try to see things from another perspective.

(source: insta + please check the description OR here)

#words #healing #important #positivity #thoughts #self love #self healing #positive thinking #healingjourney #love yourself #therapy #therapist #childhood trauma #tw childhood trauma #tw child neglect #emotions #emotional neglect #emotional abuse #emotional growth #personal growth #self care #self help #self support #emotional support #life #life lessons #mental health #recovery #reminders #self discovery

[psychotically-empty]

i get so fucking numb and empty feeling when people talk aabout their childhood or stories they had as kids. even the really sad shit. i cant remember almost anything from before i was 12.

i have nothing.

i was nothing.

i am nothing.

#bpd vent #vent #bpd #actually bpd #borderline personality disorder #bpd favorite person #bpd fp #actually borderline #tw depressing thoughts #tw self destruction #tw sui ideation #tw selfhate #depressing shit #trauma #child trauma #abandoment issues #child neglect #childhood neglect

[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.

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

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Yandere Best Friend pt 2

tw: self harm, mentions of violence, general deranged yandere shenanigans, angst

ageless blogs n minors DNI blease tq <3

part 1 here

my masterlist

this sucks bros i broke my fucken leg and i cant move, my cast is so itchy and i cant scratch and i feel nasty cause i cant shower

feeling bads, so thats why i churned part 2 out faster thn usual , its shorter than before but just need some angsty comfort atm

as uaual many errors cause i did not proofreasd

enjoy i hope

You left the exam hall a couple hours later. To find out that your dad left a total of seven missed calls. You thought someone fucking died.

Of course, you called back. Preparing for the worst.

Your father picked up the phone, he explained that it was your friend. He had a mental breakdown because you weren't there for the opening of his dream restaurant. Eventually though, he calmed down enough to come back into the building to return the phone, eyes noticeably dull and tired, worse than before. He never stopped trembling.

The three of them sat down and talked.

Neither of your parents knew you stopped contacting him. They thought everything was fine, so your friend couldn't fault them for that.

Your parents trusted your friend, so they gave him your phone number and told him basic information about you now. Such as, the country you're studying in and the course.

You felt a pang of guilt, but you had to move on. You understood that he was busy, it would probably do no good for you to try and reach out to him. You would just ruin his plan and distract him too much. At least, that was what you thought.

Usually, he would call every day. But that turns to once every three days. Then once a week. Then never.

It's true that he would not miss a single day to send you a sweet message, a reminder to practice self care and that you're very dear to his heart. Which would be then followed by an update to his progress, it was stressful to read what he was going through and that was all he talked about. You felt like his personal diary, he stopped asking about how things were going for you.

Since it doesn't seem to bother him you weren't replying because he would send his texts when the entire world is asleep, you stopped opening his texts too.

You wanted to tell him in person that you're moving out to pursue your studies and you were granted a student loan. A crushing student loan. But... You believe his ten minutes of free time a week is better used for his sleep. Or even going to the bathroom perhaps.

A day passes by another and in the end, you moved on without him. Without telling him. It just always slips your mind every time you see him brisk walking towards his beat up car with a stack of metal trays in his arms. They must be extremely heavy, you could see the veins bulging out of his forearms and forehead.

It was hard to watch his cheeks get sunken in, his hair going back to its' matted, unhealthy state, dark bags forming under his constantly bloodshot eyes. He looked like he aged a decade older from all the stress and pressure. But... He is working towards his dream and you're happy for him. It was great that he finally achieved what he wanted, he deserved all of its glory for working his ass off like that.

You held no ill will towards him, but you grew apart. He was so consumed with work that the friendship suffered in silence, there were no more fun hangouts together at the mall, you don't get to eat his cooking anymore (you didn't want to burden him by buying a tray, he already has too much to do), no more fun conversations about the silliest shit. It was just... Bank loans, revenue, expenses, investors, employees, employers, credit score, mortgages, taxes etcetera. The urgency and distress was also rubbing off you too, there were nights you woke up in a cold sweat because you had a nightmare that your hypothetical restaurant failed and you went into debt.

So you thought, he needed his time. You shouldn't really interfere with anything you don't understand. Your friend is already nose deep in the real world, you're not even close to it yet and you're not ready for it yet either. Therefore, you took the route most young adults take after getting a high school diploma: getting a bachelor's degree in some field of study that you probably don't even like.

You trudged onwards to the direction of your hostel. You need to get ready for your shift, money is a little tight now and you don't want to burden your parents too much. They're already sending a lot of money to support your living.

If your friend knew you were working hard for some extra money, his heart would break. It would be devastating news to him, no doubt, he would at least have a dozen freakouts and breakdowns. But you don't know that, yet.

As expected, your friend eventually called you. It was later than expected; it took him a week before he called your new phone number himself. He needed to calm down and collect his thoughts, as he knew that he might just drive you away if he comes barreling in with passionate yelling and sobbing over the phone. Plus, he also needed to focus on his new restaurant too, he can't just abandon his lifelong dream like that. How else is he going to make enough money to provide for you? He can't take back the money and time he invested in this now, all he can do is keep going and find some compromise.

It was tempting to go M.I.A. and hastily book a plane ticket to wherever you're studying. He was deeply yearning for your presence, he was desperate, he was clawing his arms and decorating them with nasty scars in an attempt to keep the urge at bay. He was extremely miserable but he had to keep going, to build that wonderful, cushiony foundation for you and him to fall back onto.

Everything he does, he does it for you.

He was polite, kind and pleasant during the first phone call you both had in two years. Though, there was a noticeable twinge of hurt in his mildly wavering voice. He still sounded like he's happy and relieved to hear you again.

The call started off with a greeting, then some small talk, then finally to the meat of the call;

Why didn't you tell me? He asked. It seems like he was fighting back his tears.

You didn't answer right away, you don't know what to say.

You could tell him the truth that he was too busy with his endeavors and you just don't feel like interfering by burdening him with "unnecessary information". However, you think that might wound him deeply as you're somewhat blaming him for your own actions.

You could lie... and tell him what, exactly? Either way, it would hurt him even more and there is probably going to be some resentment.

So, you apologized. You kept your reasoning brief and simple; you needed to move on. You acknowledged that whatever you did wasn't very nice of you, but you still had to proceed and you thought that it would be better that you didn't tell him.

There was a moment of silence between the both of you.

On the other side of the call, your friend was wracking his brain, trying to comprehend what you just told him. It came across as you not wanting to do anything with him anymore because you feel unprioritized, unimportant, inferior. Guilt and remorse was eating him up, he is putting all the faults onto himself.

He spiraled downwards in that call, spewing nonsense and absurd promises to destroy everything he has ever worked for just to have you back in his arms. Deranged negotiations involving the idea of blinding, deafening, mutilating or doing some sort of bodily or mental harm to himself to prove something; prove that he puts you above everything else and also to punish himself for neglecting you.

It was horrifying to hear your dear friend babble about putting himself into financial ruin for the sake for your forgiveness. He spoke of his accomplishments and advancements as they were disposable, as if it held no value compared to you.

This isn't normal, far from it, Your friend devolved so much to the point he was making demented pledges to kill and maim your enemies for you, and only you. To eviscerate the ones you dislike and send videographic proof of it, to disembowel his business associates to show that they mean absolutely nothing to him. Mind you, he was talking about real, breathing, living humans.

It was hard to fully grasp the insanity in his now incoherent words, he was muttering apologies and self hatred. Promises of severe self harm was also common in his mad speech. At one point, religion and superstitions were thrown into the mix. But you could not understand what he was chanting about.

What the fuck are you talking about? Your friend didn't pick up on your distress... or words over his excessive tirade against himself.

Everything I do, I do it for you, and I would do anything and everything for you. I love you- You hung up.

You couldn't take a second more of that. It was really difficult to see this side of him. It hurts you too that he became like this, perhaps all the stress from building a business from the ground up fried his mind. Whatever it was, you knew that he is not good for you anymore.

You sent him a final text message telling him that you're not comfortable with him after that massive sanity slippage. You wished him luck and expressed your regrets that it had to turn out this way.

You didn't give him a chance to respond, you blocked him immediately on everything and went on with your day.

Whatever he said kept replaying in your head like a broken record. It was pure horror.

#yandere concept #yandere scenarios #yandere x reader #tw yandere #yandere #cw yandere #male yandere #soft yandere #yandere boy #yandere imagines #yandere tw #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n #yandere oc #yandere male #yandere love #yandere x you #cw self deprecation #cw neglect #cw self destruction #yandere best friend

[pain-is-my-game]

I love reading mental help information and it says something like, "if you can relate to such and such symptoms find a trusted adult in your life and talk to them about it." It's me. I'm the most trustworthy adult in my life.

#i will never care if you reblog #trauma humor #toxic parents #childhood neglect #emotional neglect #sad thoughts #self deprecating humor #vent #tw vent #cw vent #eldest daughter syndrome #eldest daughter #parentified child #parentification #unhealthy thoughts #mentally unhealthy #mental illness #mentally ill #thoughts to throw into the void

[nerves-nebula]

did this instead of self harming. very cool and epic.

#nnstuff #nnart #teenage mutant neglected turtles #neglected art #self harm tw #<- not cause of the scars but cause im lowkey talking about myself hahhhh #tmnt donnie

[sunlit-mess]

TLDR : I'm over this, I swear. I'm just tired.

just needed to get this out of my mind or else I never will.

#messyr #doodle #vent art #vent post #tw sui ideation #tw self destructive behavior #tw relaspe #stigma #just in a bad place. ill be swinging back soon anyway. #before you comment anything bad about them- please dont. my family is not perfect. #its just one of those fam that gave you the adult responsibility at a very early age and expects so much from you that all they do is take #and take and take. never enough- never anything #emotional neglect #artists on tumblr

[aftgficrec]

heyy i’m looking for this fic that i haven’t been able to find in forever. i read it in 2020 i think so it’s probably deleted, but it was basically about andrew’s time in foster care and how he ended up in jail, how he met aaron, how he met higgins, all the stuff. it had 2/4 chapters completed or something like that and it was titled something like “the before and the after”. like before he met neil and after. yeah. tyyyy!!

I’ve had a good look around, but I haven’t been able to find a fic that exactly meets your criteria, this one is the closest I could find.  Hope it’ll do for now, but maybe our followers have a better idea. You could also search our tags theme: juvie and theme: foster care. This fic is locked, so you need to be logged into an AO3 account to access it. - S

Doe by FoxyAtlas [Rated M, 12068 words, incomplete, last updated Jan 2022, locked]

Andrew Doe wasn't worth a goddamn thing. He did everything he could to make his foster parents want him, but he was a lost cause. He would never have a family, and he would never be wanted. Nothing he could do would change that. Or so he thought. --- The story of Andrew Minyard's life, starting at 6 and going through to the end of the AFTG series. Includes: shitty foster situations, Cass and Drake, meeting Aaron for the first time, juvie, Tilda, working at Sweetie's, hooking up with Roland, getting the offer to join the Ravens, joining the Foxes, becoming Kevin's protector, and having Neil Josten absolutely turn his life upside down.

tw: depression, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: child neglect, tw: suicidal thoughts

#fic #aaron minyard & andrew minyard #nicky hemmick & aaron minyard & andrew minyard #neil josten/andrew minyard #universe: pre canon #universe: canon compliant #theme: angst with a happy ending #theme: juvie #theme: foster care #theme: hurt/comfort #theme: twinyards bonding #theme: protectiveness #theme: character study #tw: depression #tw: implied/referenced self harm #tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon #tw: implied/referenced child abuse #tw: suicidal thoughts #tw: child neglect #andrewmsaidso

[rallentando1011]

bath time doodle

definitely DID NOT neglect to eat for almost an entire day, phase out of reality while walking, and fall down half a flight of stairs

could not be me…

#I’m doing better now #Sometimes I just get in a groove and work until I physically can’t anymore #but i’m working on it #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #save rottmnt #save rise of the tmnt #unpause rottmnt #rise season 3 #rottmnt fanart #save rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #unpause rise of the tmnt #rise donnie x reader #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt x reader #donnie rottmnt #tw self neglect #hypoglycemia #these tags are crazy #rise donnie fanart #rise donatello x reader #donatello x reader #rottmnt donnie x reader #donnie x reader

[loveyourlovelysoul]

All the times you were told by your equally wounded caregiver to not dream too far, that something (eg. even a toy or game table) was just useless so you shouldn't buy it, that you were obliged to say no to something your soul was calling for, all those different situations are still inside of you. And they are often playing with your mind, hindering you, caging you, blocking you unconsciously from moving towards anything you really want. Not letting you see your real worth, not letting you try for something better, different, for anything you really desire. Please, don't let this mental pattern block you. Free yourself. Believe you can try and have what you desire. You are deserving at least a try, no matter how things will go. Stay hopeful, stay positive, and keep believing in yourself and how much you deserve. Do not let the past or someone else's pain hinder you. You deserve much more. And you surely deserve accolades for making it to today despite it all.

#words #healing #important #positivity #self love #thoughts #positive thinking #self healing #healingjourney #love yourself #self care #self embrace #self worth #self help #mental health #self improvement #self growth #tw childhood trauma #tw childhood neglect #childhood trauma #family issues #family trauma #relationships #reminders #recovery

[bitethetablet]

water

tag list (ask to be added):

@queermanifold

@i-ampoggers

@koffeerune

@yourfriendphoenix

@gebder

@helpicant-stop

@aliveburs

#tablets art #media.warning.selfneglect #tw self neglect #(accidentally) #dsmp crimeboys #dsmp wilbur fanart #dsmp tommy fanart #dsmp crimeboys fanart #scheduling this early bc alot is happening tomorrow

[athenasartworks]

The Veteran hat is a reference to something my husband says. I also thought of modern Mithrun just wearing sun glasses to hide his eyes all the time.

I love him so much. I just relate to the pain making it easy to forget you need to take care of yourself. Sometimes there's not even pain, just numbness and you let go and don't even know how to want to be better anymore.

#athenasartworks #traditional doodle #graphite #paper and pencil #dungeon meshi fanart #mithrun #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dunmeshi #tw self neglect

[nihilismtrcit]

introducing...eden louise “edie lou” ferraro 

gen 1: aries for the another zodiac legacy challenge by @acuar-io

since childhood, seeking out attention was a constant in eden louise ferraro’s life. her parents didn’t engage with her, rarely made her feel wanted. so she became the type of person who would seek out any attention, positive or negative. she’s a needy girl with an almost pathological desire to be noticed. of course, her hot-headed temper and mean attitude (that especially rears its head when eden feels vulnerable) make it difficult to maintain friendships, let alone romantic relationships. 

after making the move from sandy oasis springs to the spice district of san myshuno, eden decided she’d get the attention she so desperately craved by any means necessary. now an internet personality with aspirations of becoming fabulously wealthy, eden louise - self nicknamed edie lou - spends her days: 

trying to turn her social media career into fortune

cuddling and dressing up her bby chihuahua, clover (bites)

gaming, streaming, vlogging

keeping it tight to flex on social media 

seeking out validation in the form of romantic relationships and/or money

&& generally oscillating between being an overly attached lover and a messy gal ;)

#simblr #ts4 gameplay #ts4 screenshots #anotherzodiaclegacy #anotherzodiaclegacychallenge #official intro! #ooooh she's gonna be messy #she's supposed to have 3 kids by 3 partners #and she has to have multiple romantic relationships #so i am like ok she is queen of self sabotage and falling in/out of love too easily #bc she mistakes infatuation/lust with love #also is so hot headed and quick to be a biatch #and if she feels bored/not validated she seeks that out elsewhere #she's an internet personality so i thought youtuber/influencer?? #grew up watching reality tv and took psychic damage #u can't watch the simple life marathons for hours straight at age 5 without taking critical brain damage #&& #bc she grew up without much in terms of materials or love those are her two Big Goals #neglect tw #still in my #summer save #so same townies and builds as nora's posts #zodiac extras

[my-lovely-writing]

Obey Me! Lucifer with an abused teen MC.

Little notes: Haha, sorry that was a bit of a hiatus! I've been struggling with, well...life. You know how it is. But I'm back because I have fictional person brain rot. If you don't want to see anything besides my hero/villain stuff, feel free to blacklist the obey me tags.

Also, I'm kinda new to the obey me! fandom, so I'm sorry if the characters are a bit off. I won't be writing about some of them until I've learned more about them.

With that said, if you have any triggers, please check the tw tags before clicking below. This is about an MC who's been abused.

Lucifer

Lucifer found it a bit strange how quickly you took to him.

He makes you do your homework before class tomorrow? No complaints. He reminds you of bedtime (which you have because nobody's allowed to stay up later than Lucifer in the house of lamentation due to the fact that there may not be one left by morning)? "Okay, no problem! I can study TSL later." (Still trying to hang out with Levi, are you?) If anything, you seem grateful for his overbearing tendencies.

Really, with the chaos of his brothers, he's a little bit weirded out by how much trouble you don't cause. Maybe you're just scared of the demons?

Yeah, that has to be it. Works for him.

Except...it doesn't.

Not when he comes in screaming at Mammon for yet another failing grade and you start trembling, face pale and legs locked from your place on the couch, as if you don't quite know whether to freeze or run.

Dammit, he needs to take care of this lest the angels see you as a hostage and another celestial war is started. Besides, Diavolo doesn't want the human exchange student terrified, he's trying to foster relations.

So, for once, Lucifer forgoes stringing Mammon up from the ceiling, much to everyone's surprise (and your and his shared relief) and instead stalks off to his office to calm down with his favorite cursed records.

Later that night, when he's sending everyone to bed, he saves you for last. "MC, please follow me to my office."

His tone is gentle, reassuring even, but you know better than to mistake it for a request. Your mind races as you follow him on shaky legs. What have you done now? Idiot!

When you reach his office, Lucifer gestures for you to sit in the armchair across from his desk. It's surprisingly comfortable as you sink into it, but you can't help feeling like you're being swallowed up. Is he going to eat you?

As he sits in the chair across from you, it doesn't seem like it. Yet.

"How are you adjusting to life in The Devildom?"

You can't figure out his game here. His face reveals little, but you get the sense that he's asking a question without asking it.

"I'm adjusting," you say simply, expecting him to drop it at that. You're just a mortal, after all.

"I asked how you are adjusting," he counters. "It must be a big shift for you."

Really, it must be, he had realized earlier in the confines of his office—he and his brothers struggled enough after the fall, but you, in your human ways, had not even realized the existence of magic or god before coming here, and now you're surrounded by demons? Not to mention that you're still a child. Lucifer doesn't like to curse, usually finding such foul language beneath him, but he doesn't know what to call it other than a mindfuck.

The Avatar of Pride's efforts to push away the tinge of guilt that accompanied said realization have been in vain. He and his brothers haven't exactly been nice to you, have they?

He's long decided to help you adjust, if only to get rid of this stubborn and unbecoming guilt, but he can't exactly do that if you won't tell him what's wrong and you're just staring at him like a gaping fish, so he doubles down. "Are you experiencing any difficulties, MC?"

Fuck, fuck, fuck—if your mind was racing before, it's moving so quickly now that it's burning into ashes that, somehow, through the magic you've just learned exists, are blown away by the wind to spell those three words.

"MC?" Lucifer repeats your name, eyes widening in that half a millimeter of concern Diavolo talks about (referencing that one chat, I forget the actual measurement and I know his eyes technically widened in surprise, but give me a break) . Is this a human thing? No demons he knows of are this...weak. It's an active effort for him to restrain his judgement as he raises his eyebrows at you which, finally, seems to prompt a response.

"P-please, I'm sorry, I'll do better! I'm sorry for whatever I did. I w-won't do it again, don't eat me!"

Well...

Suddenly he feels like an ass for judging you. Just what ideas has Mammon been putting into your head? You look like you've seen your own ghost. And again, he reminds himself, you are a weak and defenseless human child in a world of demons.

"Nobody, not even Beel, is going to eat you. As our human exchange student, I won't allow you to die before the year closes," he says, lips pulling into a frown, studying you more intently now and watching the way you squirm as he looks at you, back ramrod straight against the armchair. What is going on with you? "Why do you believe that I would eat you?"

"I, uh..." Okay, so you don't think he'll eat you, but it's never good when an adult looks at you like that. "I don't know, you seemed upset earlier and now I've been called in here, so I thought I might have screwed up somehow—not, like, arson or anything, but I thought...I thought you'd find something."

"You thought I'd find something?" Lucifer stresses the word.

"...Yes?" you say with all the hesitance of someone on death row confessing to a crime. You swear you see Lucifer's eye twitch for just a split second.

Meanwhile, Lucifer's got it. At first, he didn't really pay all that much mind when Diavolo mentioned that you come from "troubled circumstances", mostly hoping that you wouldn't be just as troubled and therefore troubling yourself, but he's starting to see that you are—just in a different way than the others.

Of course, he doesn't outright mention or address the clues he's just put together—The Avatar of Pride can tell better than anyone that you're hiding your past as well as you can, which is, admittedly, not well, but he's been persuaded to humor you.

"I am not a sadist." Okay, he is, but it's better that you not know that. He continues, "I am not looking to find something to punish you for and, while there are some things I would kill you for such as threatening my brothers, Diavolo, or the Devildom, I have no intentions of causing you harm under regular circumstances. You may get an F on your math test without fearing me or any punishment I would give you, MC."

You blink as you process the words, a little bit of the fear edging out of your body. "I can?" Your voice is tentatively hopeful.

"You can," Lucifer reaffirms, shuffling his paperwork around, if only for your benefit, as tears begin to brim in your eyes. He allows you to save face. "Go to bed. You're welcome in my office if you ever need to talk."

"Thank you," you mumble to him as you hurry from the room. You don't know what this means, but you know you're not dead and that's good enough.

The next morning, Lucifer's brothers are woken up earlier and met with a stern talk about being kind to you, accompanied by the reminder that you are a child even by human standards who is adjusting to life in literal hell and the threat of them having to adjust to hell a second time over (a punishment—Lucifer's punishment is the second hell). "We're building relations with the exchange student for Diavolo," he justifies explains.

His brothers aren't terribly thrilled with the idea of cozying up to a human, but they agree because they remember how hard the fall was for them.

Asmodeus, being the most familiar and cool with humans due to his pact with Solomon and finding your fearful, doe-like nature adorable, offers to take you out clubbing—to which Lucifer reminds him of the child thing.

Fine, fine, no clubbing. He'll pamper you instead, you certainly have enough split ends to suggest you could use a haircut.

From then on out, a new rule is established where each of the brothers, Lucifer included, have to spend time with you every so often with one or more brothers spending time with you each day of the week.

Needless to say, you're confused by the sudden kindness but you soon don't mind it, finding yourself slowly warming up to them—and, much to the shock of your ruined self-esteem, they to you.

Lucifer is pleasantly surprised and secretly grateful to find that his brothers get into less trouble with you around and, eventually, even more pleasantly surprised to find that you seem almost normal around them. You no longer eat in silence at the dinner table, refuse to meet their eyes, or cower like a puppy used to getting kicked when they raise their voices at each other (everyone has learned not to raise their voice at you, even Satan).

It's not long before Lucifer is calling you his best behaved child sibling. He even goes so far as to have everyone retake the family photo with you in it.

Is there any way he can turn you into a demon? He'd like you to be his child sibling for forever, and humans die far too quickly. As far as Lucifer's concerned, Satan has something new to research.

And it's not as though you don't seem to have some level of darkness in you. Just the other day you heard screams coming from the lower levels of Lord Diavolo's castle and followed them in spite of your fear, kind heart wanting to aid whoever was suffering.

According to Barbatos, you didn't even flinch when you found him torturing your parents, pliers still gripped around one of your dad's bloody fingernails.

Hell, you even asked to join in! (How Barbatos responded to that, I'll let you all imagine lol)

Also, Lucifer will never admit it, but he's quite possibly never felt more pride than the time you, Satan, and Belphie pranked him with a whoopie cushion on his desk chair. Normally he would have beat his brothers with it, but he could tell from the less than ideal invisibility cloak over the object that you were involved and hid a smile from prying eyes as he sat on what felt like his throne despite the ensuing fart noises.

And that's how his family of seven became eight once again.

#obey me #obey me lucifer #obm #writing #drabble #I'm back #again #tw implied abuse #tw abuse #tw abused teen #tw low self-esteem #lucifer #lucifer morningstar #avatar of pride #mine #my-lovely-writing #tw implied neglect #tw torture #tw mentions of low self-esteem