Tw Neglect - Tumblr Posts

Do you remember the panel in which Himiko bites her wrist while she sleeps?

It turns out that this panel occurs right after, here Himiko's parents saw how their daughter woke up after biting her wrist in her sleep but instead of showing concern for their daughter's well-being, they took her to a doctor to treat her bite wound or try to heal it themselves, or even ask "are you okay?", "what happened to you?" or "how and/or why did you do that to yourself?", they simply say that she's rotten to the core, leaving Himiko's physical or emotional well-being aside. And the fact that Himiko biting her wrist in her sleep is an analogy to self-harm makes this situation and the behavior of Himiko's parents and the upbringing they gave her that much worse.

This shows once again that Himiko's parents never cared for her daughter to the point that they saw her as a monster as an excuse for their psychological abuse and neglect of her emotional and physical well-being and that all they care about are appearances.

Do you remember the panel in which Himiko bites her wrist while she sleeps?

It turns out that this panel occurs right after, here Himiko's parents saw how their daughter woke up after biting her wrist in her sleep but instead of showing concern for their daughter's well-being, they took her to a doctor to treat her bite wound or try to heal it themselves, or even ask "are you okay?", "what happened to you?" or "how and/or why did you do that to yourself?", they simply say that she's rotten to the core, leaving Himiko's physical or emotional well-being aside. And the fact that Himiko biting her wrist in her sleep is an analogy to self-harm makes this situation and the behavior of Himiko's parents and the upbringing they gave her that much worse.

This shows once again that Himiko's parents never cared for her daughter to the point that they saw her as a monster as an excuse for their psychological abuse and neglect of her emotional and physical well-being and that all they care about are appearances.

This is part 24 of the "What if Yuu didn't want to go back?" Series!

(I, the author of this work, do not consent to this work being crossposted/translated without my knowledge or used to train an AI, ever.)

Masterlist

We're late. Shit. Only by seven minutes, but there's a lot of gossip in the Backstage Room during seven minutes. Damn!

Luckily, we still have plenty of time for our skincare routines. Grim gets brushed a little faster than usual, but we're good. "Breakfast can be eaten on the way to class," I mutter to myself as I speedwalk down the hall.

"Y'ain't gawt classes t'day! Jeez, yeh jus'a lil' too awn edge 'bout yeh grades, ain't'cha? Cawlm yerself, 's awll awrigh'," says Epel, voice drawling along as it does to add a w into some words that wouldn't normally contain them this far north. I laugh along with him. We were really in such a hurry, and for what? Club doesn't start for a long while today.

In walks Korrak. Mandible is on his shoulder, as usual, and they look... as fatigued as always. Do they know? I can't tell. Maybe their evident exhaustion is from normal causes, whatever those are.

Well, I'm not going to risk it. Those two have never looked fully rested as long as I've known them, and using my signature spell last night showed me that's not a recent development. Even on the day of the entrance ceremony, they looked like there had been about two hours of deep, undisturbed, uninterrupted sleep between the two of them.

...Actually, they look way better now than they did then. I suppose Rook and Vil's care has really had an impact. Good. They deserve it.

Is the same true for me? Did I look like some kind of abomination when I walked in this world for the first time? Thinking back to day one, absolutely. Grim and I actually got taken into the Backstage Room first, and our housewarden spent over an hour and a half on detangling my hair alone- after he spent another thirty minutes on cutting it without breaking the scissors. Maybe I overestimated the difference between me and the boy with the dark blue opossum.

Ok, definitely. I definitely overestimated the difference between Korrak and I. Then again, we're from entirely different worlds, so is that a crime? I hope not.

Oh, well. Korrak isn't looking at me or Grim like anything's different, so we're probably fine. Probably. There's definitely an ethics factor, but I'm choosing to ignore that. For now.

Speaking of problems I'm aware of but choosing to pretend I'm not because the stress of that issue is pressing and I never learned to properly cope with anxiety in any way but ignoring it until I can't and it breaks me, I've heard of a spring and winter break when students go home. What do I do then?

Perhaps my impending doom shows on my face, but It doesn't matter if so because nobody appears to have noticed, and I don't see Rook. That doesn't mean he doesn't see me, though. Good ol' Rook.

He'll find me later. There's a good chance Grim and I will be taken to Vil's room to discuss that, and perhaps my signature spell. I need to get better at using that. There, that's something to do today.

I don't know when I sat down, nor do I know when Korrak and Epel started talking about combat, but it's oddly comforting to hear someone talking about fighting whilst drawing many of their 'a's into 'aw's. All becomes awl, on becomes awn, and so forth.

Did I have these moments before? Of peace, of contentment, of calm? Of simply sitting on a couch and listening to friends speak of violence in familiar voices and tones? No, I didn't, not even that last part. It's nice to know things can improve with as little as... well, not little. Still, it's nice to know things can improve.

I need to start with learning how to trigger Memory Lane. I think it was accidental last night, but I can't recall enough about before to even guess how I set it off then. Perhaps I have to be asleep? Does Grim has to be asleep? How close do I have to be to the person whose memories I'd like to rummage through, physically? Does physical space even matter? How well do I have to know them? Do I have to know them? Can I swap between targets without leaving the spell's area, or do I have to cast it twice for that to happen? Where does my physical body go? Can I take other people there?

I'm getting ahead of myself. First things first: how to start using Memory Lane. No, wait, first is breakfast. I'm almost done with that, so I'll head into the woods to train. I'll probably have to register that with Vil and maybe the headmage, but that can wait. I'd like to learn more about this spell before I tell.

"You look like you've got a plan," murrs Grim. "What're we doing today?"

"We're figuring out that spell," I maow back. Grim grins, sharp little teeth slightly dirty with minuscule chunks of salmon and toast.

"Y'all ain't all that subtle when yer up ter somethin'," teases Epel with a roll of his eyes before he gets up to stretch. "Best I git goin'," he starts again, smirking. "Cain't masta spelldrive without practice, after awll."

With that, Epel is gone, and Mandible turns to chitter at Korrak about something- I don't know what; I don't speak opossum- who then nods, scarfs down the rest of his food, and makes a break for it. He is stopped by Rook, who probably wasn't there a moment ago if my eyes are telling the truth.

"No running in the lounge," he chides gently. "Now, then, follow me!" I assume that has to do with club activities and think nothing of it. We ought to be going, too- daylight only lasts so long.

The forest is quite pretty again, leaves crunching beneath my feet as I step through the rug of orange, red, yellow, and brown that only parts for trees, their roots, and large rocks. The air here is crisp and fresh, good for clearing your head. I'll probably need that to pull this off, but I'm not sure. Can't hurt, at least.

I inhale, holding the air in my lungs and picturing... someone. The breath escapes me. Who should I go for? Myself, perhaps? Grim? Korrak again? Myself, I'll try myself first. Worth a shot, at the very least.

I try again, holding my breath in my lungs with an image of me, as reflected in the Backstage Room's wall-length mirror. My eyes close. My breath exits me in a quiet whisper: "Memory Lane."

I open my eyes to a Grim-grey path beneath my feet and a slightly blueish sky. Not blue-grey, but blue-brown, like the sky was shifting from a brunette brown to an overhead midnight expanse and I walked in on it midway through. The "stars" are small, black dots and streaks that have scattered themselves across the expanse, more numerous than in Korrak's and somewhat grouped into rows that make me think of a river spreading itself over the landscape it cuts through, as if I walked in on them, too.

The trees are willows, not the weeping kind- at least, not until I look close enough to see their branches are held up by vines with stems that match the path and leaves that match the flames in Grim's ears. The trees themselves are the dark, colorless color of my familiar's trident tail, and their leaves vary in color like confetti- some are the signature Pomefiore purple, some are the same blue as the leaves on the vines, some are a different shade of violet I've seen in Vil's eyes, and some are the green of ferns, moss, and Rook's irises. These willows do weep, but the vines prevent that. Interesting.

I wonder what that says about me.

In front of the comforted willows are more memory screens, though mine appear less like floating screens and more like... what's the word? Like those big, fancy graves with something built from smooth marble atop them, honoring the dead by creating something beautiful in their name. Crypt? No, those are underground. Tomb? Maybe.

Mausoleum, that's it. Though, notably, only the memory portal things a little ways away have them- these are nestled in the willows themselves, once low-hanging branches held away from the screen by the vines and slightly obscuring my view of the past anyway. The farther and further I look, the more little white roofs I see.

"Funny," starts Grim, "I don't remember all this. I mean, the sky's bluer than before, the leaves on the trees are more colors, and the fancy buildings are new, too." He dips his head down, eyes facing the ground near my feet. "Then again, it's been years, and my memory isn't all that great. I don't remember my family, just being cold, that striped ribbon, this place, and you." He curls into himself, soft stomach hidden from my sight, and I cannot help but forget for a mere moment that I am holding a catlike unknown as opposed to a newborn human in my arms. The thought soon evaporates like a drop of water on the surface of the sun, though my familiar's pose remains fetal.

"That's okay, Grim," I reassure, hugging him closer to my chest. "We have each other." I do not tell him the whispers of my childhood are blurry and mysterious like fog over the sea. I do not tell him he is all I clearly recall. I do not tell him I've forgotten the face of my reflection so much I thought I was face blind until I realized I only knew what I looked like when I saw myself. He does not need to know.

Nobody does. Not Mandible, not Korrak, not Epel or Rook or Vil or anyone but me. Those teachers are irrelevant now; this new world has new rules that they can't teach me. Those kids were never my friends; they just let me sit with them and tried to talk to me. Those parents aren't my parents anymore; I have new ones.

Methinks I need a distraction. My remedy is to walk a few meters to the nearest one, adjusting Grim in my arms as I do so, and touching the shiny white with my newly free hand. My familiar uncurls and turns his head to watch my fingertips glide accross the pristine, exact surface. Not one bump, dent, or crack.

The memory itself is of searching the woods for a stick to turn into a toy for Grim- it's clear and crisp despite the fact that I haven't touched it and don't intend to. Behind me, the next memory is of learning I had magic. It's just as vivid as the one before it.

Further down the path, though, memory mausoleums are fewer and farther between. It's nowhere near as packed along the sides as Korrak's- a testament to my poor memory, I suppose- or, perhaps it testifies for his being above average. Maybe even both.

I guess that's just my life- forgotten until recently.

Actually, if I look, there are a few. These ones are blurry, concerningly so, and some part of me says they need to be wiped down like soapy windows in a car wash, as though that would somehow improve the quality.

The farther back I go into the faded scraps of my own forgotten past, the fewer and farther between the memories get, and the ones we do find are notably worse than the last, though not by much. It adds up, though. After a while, they look less like life viewed through a dirty lens and more like splotches of color that were filmed through fog.

Then, I see it. This marblelike structure is huge; I'd have to stand on my own shoulders to see the top. What event could this possibly be?

I look. It's crisp like the most recent ones, with clear differences between even a grey, trident-tailed cat and an asphalt road.

Oh.

Oh.

It's... Grim's death.

...

Yeah, that... that lines up. When did I get on the ground? Oh, I've fallen. Grim is- alive. He's alive, and I'm not losing him. Not again.

It'd be comforting if I could tell myself that wasn't real, but it is. That happened, and it won't again. Not on my watch. I won't let it, no matter what.

"H-hey," starts my frantic familiar. "Yuu... um, look! Over there! I think there might be something under the trees! Let's go and look, okay?"

That's right. That's right. More to see. More to remember. Farther and further back into my faded past.

I stand and look. He's right; the branches are unusually thick here. And, right at the bottom, a rectangle cuts off, like a memory has been hidden by the trees and was revealed by the vines pulling them up.

Gently, slowly, I brush some branches aside. Harshly, suddenly, I am standing in a very nostalgic yard.

Grass. Clover. A mossy wooden fence that my startled mind remembers was willowwood, once upon a time. Grim was right. This is a memory. Speaking of Grim, there he is. In my arms. My eight-year-old, grey-clad arms. I recognize that hoodie- the grey of Grim's fur. It was my favorite as a kid.

Another child is walking down the sidewalk. Small me sees him- blond hair, forgotten eyes- and does not call. He sees small me right back, through the many large holes in the picket fence, and then he stops, his feet in dark cyan shoes I don't remember the style of. His mouth opens.

"Hey! Yuu!" I freeze. It feels almost as though he's calling out to me- not small me, but current me. That shouldn't be possible, and then small me shouts back.

"What?" My old, echoing voice calls back. The boy- Christopher- smiles like he's just been given a pack of gummy bears.

That's right. Christopher. His name was Christopher, and his favorite food was gummy bears. He sat with me at lunch.

"Are you gonna come over to my house this weekend?"

Small me lights up. "Sure!"

"Okay," Christopher shouts back, "see you tomorrow!"

"Bye!" Small me turns back to Grim. I get a good look at him then, and he is visibly younger than the Grim of today. His trident tail, like the rest of him, is smaller, and the blue flames in his ears look more like embers than they do fire, as though they once roared and have been slowly softened by the neverending sands of time.

"Mreew," sqeals the exited bundle of fur.

Small me giggles, ecstatic and still learning cat. When did I master that language?

The door on the house behind me opens, faded paint flaking off in thin shards of what was once green. Young me turns to the obnoxious squeaking, and thoughts drop into my mind like rain into a bucket: That door was greener. Why is it so white now?

The paintless parts of the door are pale brown.

The memory cuts to the following day. Christopher's mother is cutting my hair, and, from where today's me is standing, it oddly resembles Vil doing the same. She's fussing over how it should t be this matted, and how this isn't healthy, and how she's going to call CPS. I can't even remember what that stands for. Did I ever know?

More thoughts flow through me: Their door is so quiet; mine is so loud. Their house is warm like the park is in summer. What color is this? It's like the walls of the doctor's office. Or snow.

I smile to myself. My elementary school was decently fancy when I was a kid, even though Night Raven has since blown it out of the water. Many of the kids who attended came from rich families, and my friends were no exception.

The memory ends, and I'm standing on the road again. It feels like something was cut out, like there was more to it that was lost to time. I guess I'll never know again. Thinking about that makes me feel a little faint.

We should head back. I can't tell the time right now, but we do have club.

I think I can just...

"Memory Lane."

There. Isn't that neat? With just the faintest of whispers and a little bit of magic, we're back in the woods- and my phone is buzzing in my pocket with messages. Specifically, texts from Ortho.

12:02

[This groupchat was created]

[Groupchat renamed to "Board Games Club]

8:34

(666-89-02740) Hi!

This is Ortho Shroud of Ignihyde

You are Yuu of Pomefiore, right?

And Azul Ashengrotto of Octanville

8:35

(534-82-42001) Yes, this is Azul.

Why are you texting us?

The lounge is opening.

(666-89-02740) Board Games club has been canceled for today

Idia is sick

And the club room hasn't been cleaned yet

Neither have the games

8:36

(534-82-42001) Okay, I'll be at the lounge if you need me.

(666-89-02740) Okay!

Yuu, respond when you see this

The first thing I do before I respond is add Ortho and Azul to my contacts. I don't know how Ortho got my number, but it probably has to do with the whole "Ignihyde is the tech dorm" thing. The second thing I do is look at the time, and the third is sigh with relief. We'd be late if it weren't for club being canceled.

10:07

(Yuu & Grim) We have seen this!

(Blue Candle) Got it

Thank you!

I smile. It feels like I'm connecting with this new world a little bit more at a time, and the thought is enough to distract from the still-drying tears on my cheeks. Grim is purring again, probably unintentionally.

And that connection with my old one is gone. Was it ever even there? My life was nothing special, except for Grim. I should know- interesting things stick in my mind. I lost a lot of then after the whole car-and-cat thing, but I remember some of Shakespeare's plays. They were interesting.

I only remember one of them, though- what was it called? The Ides Of March, I think that's it. All I really recall is the name and that some guy got stabbed.

I remember that play better than I remember my biological parents, and I barely remember the play. Did I even live with them? Did I ever know them? Maybe I was raised by a straight couple. Or a lesbian. Or two lesbians.

No matter. Right now, my "parents" are a pair of theater kids, and I'm happy with that. I like them. Vil personally dematted my hair when I first arrived.

...Hold on. I was raised by parents, not aunts or uncles or anything, I know that much. And I know they were alive and in the house. And I know parents are supposed to care for their children.

So, why was my hair a rat's nest when I first came to Night Raven? Why did Vil have to spend so long fixing it? Why am I hyperventilating?!

I hold my breath and pray to whatever will listen to please let me faint. That's what I always did back then... okay, maybe that just means this is a bad thing to do.

Maybe my poor memory is one of the ways I cope. I'll never know with what. That's the point, after all.

My phone breifly vibrates with another message, this one directly from Ortho to me with nobody else involved.

10:46

(Blue Candle) Hey

I can't find anything on you except school-related stuff

Like

Anything

(Yuu & Grim) Why were you looking for that?

(Blue Candle) The nurse asked me if I could find your medical history and stuff

You know

For safety reasons

Seems reasonable. Although, wouldn't it make more sense to contact Vil first? And then Rook? Or the headmage, even? Maybe Ortho knows her personally or something. Maybe she wanted to contact Idia, but he sent his brother in his place. Yeah, that makes sense.

10:47

(Yuu & Grim) Yeah idk lol

Good luck

(Blue Candle) ???

That does not help

(Yuu & Grim) 🤷

(Blue Candle) 😐

😑

😐

I don't send anything new, still processing my delight over the discovery of this world's emojis. By the time I look back, Ortho has sent another text

10:48

(Blue Candle) Meet me in the nurse's office soon so I can get your blood type and stuff

(Yuu & Grim) Ok!

"C'mon, Yuu! Let's go, I'm bored," meows Grim. I smile and nod. I can process this later, anyway.

@cenatour

pairing: t. fushiguro x fem! reader

wc: 600

warnings: smut, corruption, loss of virginity, implied neglect at the end

18+ → minors / blank blogs dni

Toji Fushiguro never claimed to be a good man. 

He never claimed to be anything really. It was foolish to think otherwise. He only did what was necessary. And anything born out of necessity can't be good or evil. A neutral party meant to act as a hero to some, but the devil to the rest of creation. He doesn’t mind being either, that was his place.

That is his philosophy, at least. One of the two things that help him keep going in his fucked up world. 

The other?

It was you of course. 

You were too good– too pure for this world. Too kind, too gentle. A beautiful dove stuck in a murder of crows. In the world of the damned, you were the only thing yet to be corrupted. The only thing that hadn’t been stripped of all humanity. 

His own personal heaven.  His get-away. His safety.

He really didn’t deserve you huh? 

Especially not when he has you like this. Pinned against your bed, underwear stuffed in your mouth to keep you quiet. Heavy cock head pressed just against your tight little hole. If he moved at all, he’d be inside. Stretching you, filling you to the brim with nothing but him. His very essence. His entire being. 

All of him was just for you, you know? At least it was in these moments. 

He’s all yours as he forces his way into your tight cunt. He’s too big. He’s always too big for you. But you mewl and whine for him all the same, begging for just a piece of him. Any part of him that you can have, even if it’s just for a little bit.

You force your hips back, trying to coax more, more of him inside. For him to go deeper, harder. For him to consume you whole, leaving nothing left for anyone else. You want this, you want him. 

He knows. Trust that he knows. He knew from the very beginning that he would own you. From the very first time he forced his cock inside your cunt, robbing you of a piece of your soul. He knew it when you begged him not to tell anyone, to keep this your little secret. Promising him the world for another taste of him.

He knows it now as you beg, babbling incoherently as his thumb circles your clit. You’re real close aren't you? You just wanna let it slip away and let him take care of everything. Yeah, he knows you well enough to recognise that.

He knows it as you cum around him. In the way your back arches, your nails digging into the sheets. The way your walls clench around him so desperately, trying to coax him deeper. Trying to get him to cum inside. Where you want him most. It was too bad that isn’t allowed.

He knows you're all his as he cleans off your tummy, looking up at him with stars in your eyes. He’s the only thing that matters in your universe. He likes to be sure of it. 

And he is. He’s sure as he tucks you into bed with his rough hands, moving your body easily into the sheets. He’s sure as he watches your face morph into that of utter loneliness and longing as he leaves the room. Realising he won't be staying. Realising he’s leaving again and you don't know when he’ll be back.

Yeah. Toji never claims to be a good person. 

But you are his. His to corrupt. His to play with. His to do anything he wants to.

His. 

I would just like to point out that c!Tommy being loud and seeking constant attention is a coping mechanism for neglect.  that doesn’t mean he wasn’t in the wrong, but please don’t just say he’s an asshole without taking that into account :)

And those who beat the odds will call it fate.

-

Trigger warning: Sadness, regret, mourning, death, beaten to death, mentioned past abuse, mentioned neglect, mentioned manipulation

Before we start I wanna say this DOES contain spoilers to TommyInnit’s recht Lore Stream so please be mindful of that!! Also! I would like to give thanks to Miss AnniePants02 for letting me write this au and I really hope she enjoys it! It makes me happy to know I brighten peoples day!

-

“*Stop!*”

Those were his last words. The last Words of Tommyinnit. A boy who fought for his country and for those he loved yet never got that love in return from those people. A boy who most people found irritating or annoying, a boy who never let a horrible man keep him down.

A *man* who didn’t deserve to die.

Yet here He sat. He sat on top a hill with the wind blowing so much that he could see the trees moving around him a bit, yet he wasn’t cold. The young man felt so many things that it was far from peaceful.

He wanted to cry yet smile as he stared at the purple flower in his hands.

He wanted to scream yet his lungs felt heavy as he gripped the ground beneath him.

He felt so empty-headed yet his thoughts were crowding to find space in his head.

He felt so tired yet he was wide awake.

He wanted to live yet he couldn’t anymore.

The blonde finally fell backwards and stared at the blue sky that Beamed down on him, he opened up his inventory only to see the same items he spawned with in his hell. Disc, a flower, an axe and a compass. He pulled out the Axe and held it close to himself as if he would be attacked at any moment. He kept the flower space in his inventory. His eyes soon fell shut.

“Tommy....? No no— why are you here?!”

The voice sounded so familiar yet Tommy was sure he had never heard it before, he was sure. He opened his eyes and stared up at the woman above him.

Her skin was pink and so was her hair, her eyes seemed to be pinkish purple though as those same eyes watered and had tears running down her face. A halo sat on her head and her clothes were almost similar to his, not in color or design- just the fabric. She wore a pink hoodie with black jeans underneath matching her black shoes.

She kneeled down and still looked down at him. Tommy felt like he knew her, or at least heard of her.

“You aren’t suppose to be here...not now...not anytime soon...” The woman said as she put a hand to his face. “You’re cold...” She whispered. He didn’t mind what she was doing. He didn’t mind at all, it was the first time in almost years that someone had done this...

“Who are you....?” The blonde finally asked as he looked up at her. She smiled down at him and sighed softly. “I’m called many names...you may call me Annie, or AnniePants02.” The woman, who had been revealed to be named Annie, whispered. “When I said to meet me inside...I knew you would be dead but...seeing you like this...it’s horrifying.”

It all suddenly came back to him. Tommy remembered the voice now and Remembered the words; “meet me inside.” He stared at her with wide eyed as tears started pouring down his face as if he had held everything in. He sat up and turned to face her while on his knees. She had her hand on his shoulder.

“Annie...” Tommy whispered before he was pulled into a hug by her. He quickly hugged back and let himself cry for the first time in months. She pet his head and held him close as if, if she let go- she would lose him.

“It’s okay...it’s okay...you can rest now Tommy...we’ll be okay...I’ll take care of everything okay...? Trust me...”

The tears kept running down his face.

||”What dream did to you...it was horrific...you were abused, neglected and manipulated...you didn’t deserve that...you didn’t deserve to be hunted..you didn’t deserve to be hurt. But you’re safe now...you’ll always be safe here...” She Silently promised.||

“Hey Annie...you can go back to the smp right...?” Tommy questioned and she only nodded. “Good, when you get back down there...Kick Dream’s ass will ya?” He could hear Annie let out a soft laugh as he smiled against her shoulder.

“I will Tommy...He’ll get what he deserves.”

~~

<AnniePants02 Has Joined the Game.>