#tw; mental abuse

[shiroi---kumo]

.: The Devil's Toll :.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ He doesn't understand why his hair is getting stroked so lovingly but he also doesn't know why he's finding it so hard to pull away. There is a small hand brushing through white locks over and over and he doesn't quite know how he ended up leaning his head up on His Excellency’s chair like some kind of lounging cat but here he is doing just that nonetheless.

Words: 2.9 k   Pages:  6 TW;;  Depression, PTSD, Submission, Mental Illness, Survivor’s Guilt, gaslighting, possession, isolation, abuse, mental abuse, physical abuse, self blame, objectification, manipulation, injury, mental breakdown, intimidation, love bombing, dissociation, conditioning, punishment and praise, rewards, murder

His stomach twists in disgust as he realizes the true stakes of the situation and now if he moves wrong that hand in his hair will turn into a variable claw in the matter of a few moments. He hates how he can't remember ever laying down like this and quite frankly he can't remember waking up this morning either.

 It's becoming more and more frequent in recent days. He's missing entire chunks of time and he doesn't quite know what to make of it. He's missing chunks of time and he can't remember when was the last time His Excellency killed him. Somehow this seems like more of a bad thing than a good thing for as strange as that sounds. Shouldn't one want to be spared the pain of death? Well yes, and of course he does too but this also means that when the time comes that he inevitably messes up again, when His Excellency makes a move for punishment it will be the most severe one he's received to date. 

He's not stupid. He knows how this game works. Praise and Punishment walk hand in hand with this little beast and right now those same hands are in his hair and he can't move. He can't pull away no matter how much he wants to and he can't even flinch or breathe wrong unless he wants those small but deadly fingers ready to tear snow colored locks right out from his head. 

It's always such a wretched sensation.  

Nothing is worse than the feeling of his hair being pulled. He hates it. He hates the feeling and he hates the way it makes him feel so vulnerable. How the pain of it will bring him to his knees and have him fighting back the tears at the sensation. You would think one who has died as many times as he has would have more pain tolerance for something seemingly so simple but the sensation of even the root of his hair going taunt is enough to send his nervous system into overdrive. 

But what he hates the most is how he can feel himself start purring. He doesn’t know why he does it. He tries to tell himself to stop but he can feel those fingers grow softer as they stroke through snow. The louder he purrs the softer they get and he hates himself for finding so much comfort in the sensation. He hates himself for finding peace in this.  He should be running away from this beast as quickly as his body would carry him. He should be fleeing at any chance he gets but instead he allows himself to sink into his place on the arm of this chair as that little monster continues to comb through fluffy spikes with a gentleness that could only be described as care. 

That can’t be right. 

That’s just not possible, and he hates how many times he feels like he’s had this conversation with himself as of late. The beast does not love him. The demon does not care. The little devil felt nothing for him but yet those lips part and purr out affections of their own. 

“You’ve been so well behaved as of late, Precious.”  The small emperor sounds as his hand continues to work. “You’ve done your tasks so well. I’m proud of you, my Little Cloud. You’ve been such a good pet. Perhaps you deserve some time out of the castle? I think you’ve earned it.” 

He only increases the volume on his purring in response as if doing so will show his gratitude for such a notion but his lips are hanging in a frown behind the thin metal covering his face as the boy of pink continues. 

“You can go with Herba the next she leaves.” The Tyrant offers as he finally pulls his hand away and out of the Misterican’s hair. “But when she leaves you know the rules. Her word is as good as my word and you are to do whatever she asks of you. You understand, don’t you Precious?” 

“Yes, Your Excellency.” 

“That’s my good boy. You’ve become so well behaved. I’m so proud of you, Makenshi.” 

His purring only grows louder as those hands return to his hair and he doesn’t know how long he stays like that but it’s long enough that he doesn’t remember falling asleep.  Did he fall asleep? He doesn’t know. He does know that he woke in his own quarters the next morning and he was met with Herba throwing her arms over his shoulders to bring him into a very tight and very unwanted hug and she leaned to try to push a kiss to his cheek and he could only lean himself the opposite direction so far to avoid contact. 

“Makenshi.”  

His name was trumpeted in his direction in a small but authoritative voice and it has the Misterican standing up straight giving this damnable woman the space she needed to push those poison painted lips directly to his cheek even if it was covered in metal.  Dull jade is looking forward into the main hall with the entirety of his form tingling to both get away from this woman and get off the ground. The place just above the little demon’s head is calling his name because then he is both in eyesight but at the same time away from this gaggle of absolute morons. 

If he could never associate with any of them for the rest of his life ever again, he’s sure he could find a way to be happy. If only Rorahm could finally wake up - but  - jade moons downcast at the thought because at this rate his sun would never rise and he was going to be stuck here for the rest of said life. Should he make the most of it? Should he adjust?  

No. No. Listen to yourself Makenshi. You’re falling for that monster’s tricks! 

But are they tricks? 

It’s been too many years and he doesn’t know anymore. He doesn’t remember the sound of his Mother’s voice and he can hardly remember his Father’s face. He tries not to think about them too much because he doesn’t want to get himself all upset and then in turn upset His Excellency. The Tyrant isn’t exactly one to be any form of comforting if he were to simply explain that he was thinking about home. In fact, he doesn’t want that little monster anywhere near  anything to do with Misterica in the first place, so it would probably be for the best to simply forget it all anyway. If he can’t remember then the little beast can manipulate it against him. 

He can’t seem to remember most things lately anyway. 

He can’t remember going to sleep the night before and he hardly can make sense of the morning. He just wants this woman to get off of him but instead she lets herself sink down to wrap her arm around his and lean herself up against him like they were anything that could be considered close - which was comical in his mind when the closest he would like to be to this 

woman would be to watch her burn.  

Still he just adjusts to the feeling of her hanging off his arm as he focuses his attention on His Excellency instead because the only thing he ever needed to do was to keep the little gremlin happy and as long as he did that he’d keep his head. Why was the beast smiling at him the way he was? He doesn’t like it. It’s making his skin crawl almost as much as the feeling of the plant witch hanging off his arm is. 

“Makenshi, I am assigning you to assist Herba today. I expect you two to cooperate while you’re out in the field. Herba knows what needs to be done, so you simply need to follow her lead, and I shouldn’t have to repeat myself with what we discussed yesterday, do I?” 

“No, Your Excellency. I remember.”  He sounds, raising his free arm to cross it over his chest to give this pink haired abomination a half bow. What he was saying he remembers, he doesn’t know. Quite frankly, he doesn’t even even the day before. Yesterday? He couldn’t tell you. Herba’s face was where his memory picks up and he hates that too because there is something about thinking about yesterday that is turning his stomach but he couldn’t tell you why. 

So now they’re returning to that damnable airship and he hates being on it.  It’s nauseating and the amount of pollen in the air is enough to make him sick. His stomach is twisting in knots As he takes a seat. He doesn’t feel well but there is the sound of jingling chimes in the air as he looks over to the open deck just to the right of him. Chimes blowing in the wind and it's enough to tell him to just focus on the sound of something pleasant for once as he lays his head down and tells himself to just go back to sleep.  She’ll wake him when they get there. She always does. 

And he’s sure it’s for something nasty.  It always is.

He won’t do it this time though. He’ll never kill again and he doesn’t care how badly His Excellency beats him to death for disobeying orders. He will not stain the Holy Blade with yet more blood of the innocent… He just needs to not think about it and sleep. He’ll fight with her when he wakes up. His Excellency might be able to get the better of him but Herba won’t. He will never let that woman - 

“ ‘kenshi-darling? ‘Kenshi-darling, wake up you silly willy. If you told me you were tired, I would have gotten you a blanket, lovely.”  She smiles at him with a face that is possibly dripping with more venom than it ever has before. Her smiles are always fake and they turn his stomach, but she is taking him by the hand and he’s letting her.  He doesn’t feel like fighting with her.  

It’s a quiet town they’ve found themselves in this time. It’s closer to the outer reaches of Wonderland but not quite all the way out. A town that has larger than normal buildings built up and a large building he wonders if it is a church of some kind on the other side of town. She has him by the hand as they walk, and the people of this village don’t seem to be paying them any mind.  Children are laughing, the smell of fresh bread is in the air and the city itself seems at peace. 

Herba is leaning herself in to cling to his arm as if they were some sort of couple and it is taking everything in him not to shake her off. She just seems to be happy to take a stroll with him and he doesn’t understand what the catch is. Why did His Excellency let him out of the castle if there was nothing wicked for him to do? Why let him just come take in the sights of Wonderland if they didn’t mean for him to cause some kind of havoc?  

She’s strolling through the local bazaar with him as his nose catches the smell of sugar and it’s been so long since he has got to eat anything truly sweet. He sniffs once and then again and she’s making an Oooh? Sort of sound that he doesn’t like as she takes him by the hand to lead him towards the source of the scent. 

“You like sweets, don’t you, ‘kenshi? I’ll buy you something. I’ll buy you something nice, for how good you’ve been lately. Tell me what you want. Anything and you can have it. We all deserve a little treat every now and then.” 

Is she serious? She can’t be. 

The Church bell is ringing in the background as she pulls him along. A grin slipping on her lips as she pulls him into the middle of the marketplace, only to look back at the Misterican with bright eyes and a poison purple smile. 

“Anything you want, ‘kenshi-darling. Name it, and it’s yours.” She pauses to look towards the church and watches as the streets seem to fill as if the building is emptying further with each chime.  “Must be noon.”  She sounds returning her gaze to her companion only to watch as a pale hand reaches back towards the hilt of his blade to rock it free with a single click.  

“ ‘kenshi-darling?”  She sounds but still just continues to watch the man move. The swordsman takes his blade up into his grip and it is held out towards her at length as if extending the tip in her direction. Mist rolls out from behind bared teeth in plumbs when the devil growls.  He’s pushing off a foot to take off in a dead lunge in her direction but instead of striking at the object of his absolute hatred, the man of white races past her directly towards that of an older man down the way of the lane of the marketplace and cleaves the poor soul clean in two. 

More Mist rolls out from parted pale as his blade is swung to send a flood of white colored energy racing through the stalls like a spark on a wick until it reaches its destination and half the bazaar goes up in a massive explosion.  Screams fill the sky as citizens start to scurry and scatter. 

“The White Devil!!” They cry.  “The White Devil has come for us all!” 

Red stains window panes and runs along the cracks of the cobblestone as the carnage continues.  The man of snow does not cease his hellsent symphony even as men and women alike fall to their knees to beg for their lives. Their lights are snuffed out regardless. Children struck down with little concern and explosion after explosion brings building of stone tumbling to the ground. 

Before long the symphony of sayonara falls silent and the Maestro of the Massacre stands center stage, crimson dripping from the Holy Blade stained with sin once more. 

Only one other life remains and a dangerous gaze of dimmed jade is turning to glare daggers at the plant like woman. He’s raising his blade and taking stance to charge her when she merely raises her hand in his direction and snaps her fingers together. 

Jade eyes go wide before they start blinking rapidly and soon their owner is looking all around him with horror etching itself into his features.  Anger overcomes him as he refocuses on Gaudium’s Lord of Plants and Potions only to scream. 

“What did you do?! Answer me! You didn’t have to kill them!” 

But he only gets a small laugh in response as she floats over to him to rest just over his shoulders. 

“What did I do? I didn’t do anything. You did this, ‘kenshi-baby. This was all your work. You killed them all gracefully and you didn’t leave a single one alive. Truly expert skill.”   

“You’re lying!” He hisses as his mind starts to reel at the possibility. Her lungs didn’t sound like she was lying. 

“Am I though?” She asks coyly. “Look at your sword.” 

And her hand is pointing a finger down causing jade eyes to drop along with it even if he’s scared to do what she’s asking. The Maken is in his hand and it is covered in blood. He’s covered in blood.  

His hand is trembling as the Maken is released and a deep guttural scream escapes him from down in his belly as the Holy Blade clatters to the ground. His hands are flying up to slip into white locks in between his horns only for the scream to get louder.  

What was going ON?!!!! This wasn’t right!!! He doesn’t remember ANYTHING!!!! 

His entire body is shaking as his knees hit the ground. All he can do is scream. He killed these people. He slaughtered an entire town and he doesn’t even know how or why. He can’t remember their faces. He never knew their names.  He slaughtered these people and -  

Herba is wrapping her arms around his shoulders as she hovers there next to him for the moment, nuzzling her face in close to his own. 

“ You did so good today, ‘kenshi-darling. Let’s go home and tell, His Excellency, about what a good job you did. I’m sure he’ll reward you. Oh and !”  She’s letting her feet hit the ground to shuffle over to the now destroyed stand of the vendor from earlier that had been selling all sorts of sweet treats and she picks up what appears to be some sort of hard candy on a stick and extends it out to him.  “I said I’d get you anything. A treat for doing such a good job.” 

But he couldn’t eat anything now.  Now it would only taste bitter.   

[emotionaleating]

pls don’t flirt with me i want to be nonchalant so bad but i unfortunately crave connection so intensely that i will give you my entire soul and forgive you over and over until i’ve lost myself completely and feel like i’m drowning

[animentality]

[rainywhispersblog]

When you grow up in an abusive home, you don’t become a people pleaser to please people. You become a people pleaser to keep the potential for more abuse away.

[uncanny-tranny]

Honestly, there is a certain type of fetishizing of violence that occurs when you are the victim of abuse - wherein people talk directly to you about how much they fantasize about your abuser/s dying and being killed - "all abusers must be killed!" they say.

As a victim of prolonged abuse, I never felt cared for when people indulged that information to me. It often feels like my abuse is being exploited for others to enact their own violent fantasies and secret desires - my abuse means nothing to them in the same way that I didn't matter to my abusers. It's not support - it's just another cycle of violence.

I'm begging people to care more about victims and survivors than they do about retribution of abusers. Nowhere along the way should your focus on the abuser outweigh the people affected by their abuse. If you truly want to support abuse victims and survivors, start with us

[schizopositivity]

It's so frustrating that I'm only seeing more and more lobotomy jokes. Especially "live, laugh, lobotomy" merch.

You are making fun of the torture of disabled people. People with intellectual disability and severe mental illness brutally had parts of their brain severed or killed. Many people died from this. We can never know the true impact because the people who endured this were not the same after.

We shouldn't be bringing this up in any lighthearted way. This was a tragedy, and we should be showing basic human respect to the victims. I don't think anyone can "reclaim" it and no one should want to. Please treat it with the severity and respect you would to any other mass tragedy from history.

[rotting-bitch]

try to be gentle while tearing me apart

[girlyteengirl16]

healing is taking too long what if i just kill myself

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

anyone else have multiple traumatic memories associated specifically with holidays/family vacations? because that is a topic I never see discussed in all the So You Had A Shitty Childhood, Now What? self-help books i've been reading. but for me, it was a significant thing. and the more i think about it the more it seems like this would be an (unfortunately) common experience. would be grateful to hear if this matches other peoples' experiences...

[emotionaleating]

[sonnyinthesky]

Shout out to people who can't have kids. Not because theyre infertile or otherwise physically incapable of making a child, but those who cant have kids because they couldnt take care of them in the way they deserve.

To disabled people who would be unable to care for a child due to their disability

To mentally ill people who would be unable to care for a child due to their mental health

To violent people who wouldn't be able to stop themselves being violent towards their child

To autistic people whos meltdowns would stop them looking after a child / would make them violent to their child

To addicts who wouldn't be able to look after a child because of their addiction/the consequences of their addiction

To intellectually disabled people who wouldnt know how to look after a child safely and would not be able to learn

To those that require so much care themselves that they could not care for another

To those with mood swings who may lash out at a child and can't raise children because of that

To people with their own childhood trauma who fear their own trauma would cause them to not raise a child safely

To people with childhood trauma that feel having a child would turn them into their abuser

Theres too much stigma around those of us who cant/shouldnt raise kids. Theres nothing inherently bad about not being a safe person to raise children. It's also okay to want kids even if you know you couldn't raise them! It's okay to be sad about it. You are seen and heard and deserve the comfort and support you need.

[a-sip-of-milo]

Things people label as abuse when it's done to a partner that parents somehow get away with

Hitting/spanking. Abusive/toxic when it's a partner but fair discipline when it's a child.

No privacy (no privacy = going through their phone, tracking their location, attending therapy appointments, etc.). Abusive/toxic when it's a partner but good parenting when it's a teenager.

Emotional neglect. Abusive/toxic when it's a partner but "not the parents' fault" when it's a child.

Overworking them. Abusive/toxic when it's a partner but earning their keep when it's a child.

Doing things to purposely make them cry. Abusive/toxic when it's a partner but hilarious when it's a kid.

Breaking their stuff/deleting video game progress. Abusive/toxic when it's a partner but fair discipline when it's a child.

Forcing affection when they don't want to. Abusive/toxic when it's a partner but teaching them good manners when it's a child.

Locking them in a room that they can't escape. Abusive/toxic when it's a partner but "they've got to learn one way or another" if it's a child.

Expecting them to suppress their emotions. Abusive/toxic if it's a partner but teaching them to be mature if it's a child.

Getting angry when they ask a question/challenge your logic/need clarification. Abusive/toxic if it's a partner but teaching them to not talk back if it's a child.

Not letting them eat anything unless it's what you put in front of them (that includes not letting them get anything for themselves). Abusive/toxic when it's a partner but teaching them to be grateful if it's a child.

If you've ever labeled any of these things as abuse when an adult opens up about their experiences but will defend parents who do the same thing, you need to reevaluate yourself.

DNI: Narcissistic/Borderline/Anti-social/Histrionic abuse believers.

[harmful-tropes]

I have a distinct memory of laying in my bed as a kid and wishing with all my heart that I would get hurt. That I would get into a bad car crash or I'd disappear. So my parents would cry and realize they didn't cherish me enough.

I find it sad that younger me thought she had to get hurt to feel loved.

[best-of-theworst]

Well, actually funny story!

(Proceeds to tell you the most wild, traumatizing, sad and tragic story you ever heard)

[girlyteengirl16]

it is what it is (i want to die so bad)

[sparrow-the-tired-lesbian]

here’s a friendly reminder for survivors of any sort of abuse that

It wasnt your fault

You are strong

You didnt ask for it

No one gets to invalidate your experience

If someone invalidates your experience, you get to dump their ass