Poly 141 with a child that really wants reader to join their family
cw: yandere 141, yandere child, career sabotage
Masterlist
I keep thinking about polycule 141 that on one of their last mission before retiring find a small 6 years old child that maybe reminds Simon a little too much of himself, his parents are dead so they decide to adopt him and raise him in their little family. Maybe the little child has some difficulties adjusting to school, he loves his new family, but doesn't really know how to interact with anyone outside it which makes school and finding friends pretty hard. Cue to you, a child therapist that takes one look at the 6 years old Felix nervously looking around while holding a tedy bear and four progresively scary looking men flanking him on all sides and decide that you'll do everything in your power to help him.
None of the four men really trust you, especially the big one with the mask, you're pretty sure they have your office bugged because how else does Johnny come rushing excitedly about Felix finally feeling comfortable to talk with you right at the end of the session before you could even send the report Mr Price always demanded. After that they visibly relax around you, even Simon gives you a small nod of acknowledgement when picking up Felix, John and Kyle are as polite as ever and Johnny is probably the most touchy one, a hand on your shoulder as he tries inviting you to spend time with them and Felix outside the sessions for the hundreth time, but you remain firm wanting to keep things professional.
It's a good thing that Felix is finally opening up, but he seems to have developed a strong attachment towards you to the point that he starts crying when seeing other children interacting with you. There was one time when you're almost sure that you saw him pushing another child after hugging you, but when asked about it he looked at you teary eyed saying that the other boy made fun of him for not having a mother. Feeling awful for having suspected him, you spend the next half an hour consoling him, failing to notice the small smile on his face and the way Simon and Kyle stare a little longer towards you when picking him up.
One day out of nowhere there's a fire in the building and just like that your office burns down, you can't afford to rent another space and a lot of your patients are moving on to someone else. That's when you recieve the phone call from Mr Price or John as he insists you call him that expresses his regret for what happened and offers you to move the sessions with Felix at their home. They don't want to move him to another specialist when he finally opened up to you, they understand that coming to their home is an unusual favour to ask, but are ready to compensate you accordingly. Being left with no better option in the meantime, not being able to rent another space within your budget and already having lost the majority of your patients you accept their offer.
The problem is that your sessions with Felix look more like babysitting, playing together, going to the park and reading him stories. He doesn't seem to have anymore problems comunicating with other people because when one of the dads at the playground starts talking to you Felix hugs your legs telling the man to leave his mommy alone. After that there's always one of the four men going with the two of you everywhere, you pretend not to hear the gossip of the moms around the playground when you show up with a different man everytime. And you can't even complain because they're simply nice to you and looking out for their son so you give John access to your location, it's important to him where you and Felix are in case of an emergency, you let Kyle drive you home when your car just won't start right when having to leave their home and let Simon and Johnny repair your water heater because they refuse to take no for an answer.
After that you constantly feel watched even in your own home, things start getting misplaced and some of your laundry starts dissapearing. The paranoia starts draining you, there's no point in telling someone about it because what would you even say without any proof? Then all the proof you need splashes over your head when you find the lock on the front door broken and your entire apartment ransacked, drawers and cabinet doors opened, things thrown everywhere or broken. The police is useless because there were no fingerprints and of course the security cameras were malfunctioning during that time so there's nothing they can do at the moment.
Frustrated and getting tired of bad things happening to you is how another phone call from John finds you, teary eyed in hotel bathroom thinking just how to get out of this situation. He offers to let you stay in one of their guest bedrooms until you get back on your feet, there's no need to move back in with your parents, Felix would be devastated without you around.
So you accept because at that point that's your best options and things are not that bad. You kind of feel like a live-in-nanny, except they treat you almost like a member of their family, not even bothering to corect Felix anymore when he refers to you as his mom. And when one morning while making breakfast a sleepy shirtless John hugs you from behind, a kiss on your nape as a gruff "Morning love" escapes his lips nobody bats an eye. And from there things keep escalating to Simon holding your hand outside while taking Felix out for icecream and waking up from your nap smushed between Johnny and Kyle. Seeing his papas liking you so much makes Felix so happy, even his nightmares are gone so you just go along with everything because maybe you do enjoy being a part of their family just as much as them.
Because I've never known anything but this body and mind. When I was told baseline for pain was zero, I thought it was an exaggeration for politeness like how neurological people dont really mean it when they say you can ask them for anything. I thought it was a figure of speech, or that baseline was just given the number zero. I thought when people said they needed to sit it was because their legs hurt, not that they were tired. I thought that not liking eye contact was being shy, I thought not understanding social rules was normal or that I was just stupid. I thought wanting to die as early as six was normal. I thought having no memories, not even my name until one sudden day at 5 was normal. I thought my fingers bending to make a 90 degree angel with the back of my hand was normal. I had no experience otherwise. No one took the time to believe me or ask follow up questions when I mentioned any of this. I had no way to know. I didnt know most of this until I was in college. Someone needed to tell me.(shout out to my amazing husband.) If you needed to be told, Im telling you. Don't beat yourself up for needing to be told.
Theres a unique type of grief and rage I am experiencing right now. I likely can't ever have kids because of my disabilities meaning I wouldnt be able to care for them. Plus the economy, and because my grandmother took a medicine, I might only ever have miscarriages if I did conceive at all. The medicine my Grandmother took, DES, also exponentially increases my rates of cancer and might be responsible for my disabilities. But there's no compensation I qualify for because I'm a granddaughter, not a daughter and even that was spotty. I'm watching my health deteriorate so quickly that for the first time in years I feel slightly scuicidal. I'm terrified and anxious all the time. I just want to escape this capitalist nightmare. I want to go into the woods and not come back. I just want to be stable, but I don't think that's possible. I'm just so tired.
also here is a whole website that not only has a shit ton of adventures and such but lets you search for any item or npc or whatever and see their stats and info at your fingertips
SO first alter introduction journal is posted on Patreon for free. More will be posted for both free and paid members as we want to hopefully make this a job as we genuinely like doing this. Let us know any feedback y'all have!
Just a heads up right now: on the day when Trump dies, I’m going to be extremely tasteless about it. It’s going to get ugly. You are going to see a side of me I am not proud of. I don’t want any call-outs in my inbox, I’m stating right now that lines will be crossed.
Anyways all of y’all AND the evil that literally lives inside of you are invited to the sick ass house party I’m throwing when lord dampnut kicks the bucket
I feel like all you Americans need to take a look at what happened here in the UK after Maggie Thatcher died. Because when it comes to tasteless celebrations fuelled by anger and the death of a hated political leader, we REALLY pushed the boat out. We had street parties. We had burning effigies. We pushed “Ding Dong the Witch is Dead” to the top of the charts out of sheer hatred. Bone up kiddos, and I really hope you manage to do that truly American thing, of dramatically outdoing us with your celebrations.
Look, I’m gonna level with you americans for a second. When old wrinkly and orange kicks the bucket, for once in my life, possibly the only time, I’ll actually want to be able to see the fireworks from across the Atlantic. And I daresay I won’t be the only one. So listen to me and listen closely, cause I’ll only say it once: When the moldy Cheeto bites it, it’s the one and only chance you’ll likely have at being loudly, unbearably, obnoxiously American in your celebration and for once, the rest of the world won’t complain.
Listen. The British hold a grudge like you wouldn’t believe. The only people who hold grudges better than us, is everyone else.
We’re burning a guy in effigy every year for something he did in the 17th century.
So no, when you get petty and disgusting, we will judge you hard and then tell you: Come on, you can do better. We believe in you!
And we will have suggestions.
And we will be having cake while we give you those suggestions, and through the window we will be watching a line of people filling every sand trap on every Trump golf course with piss, which is what we’ll be doing while we dream up ever more horrible ways to commemorate that bastard blowing a blood vessel while shitting his pants on live TV.
In Ancient Egypt, if they hated you, they’d erase you from history.
The Bastard Cheeto Beast won’t get off that lightly.
And we’re not American. So you’ll get all the help you need to step up your game.
i don’t think i’m exaggerating when i say that the average height for women in the US would increase by at least an inch if teen girls were allowed to eat as much as teen boys are
and not to bring my own clocky bitch ass into this but if cis women weren’t so consistently starved their entire lives you’d see a lot more cis women with the kind of bodies that we currently associate closely with trans women. the amount that the standards of feminine presentation are culturally defined by malnutrition is crazy
Actually, my therapist has told me this is a healthy way of processing things. Because you can get the trauma out of your head And you can write the ending you wish it had. The trusted person rescue, the catharsis of getting to kill the one who hurt you.
It's good for your brain. It's healthier than bottling it up. Fiction is where we go for emotional release. That can be true with trauma too.
Adding @dear-massacre's tags because they are so true:
#this is why it's important to remember that fictional characters are fake #they have no agency. they're made up #it hurts no one to make any character go through the horrors #it is healthy and cathartic
Dark age/pet regression but with aliens that don't understand humans my beloved <33
Maybe in another universe where we're already seen as exotic pets, not necessarily legal to own, but very much sought out by the wealthy due to our intelligent and yet somehow still dumber than them nature
Being treated more like a doll, dressed up in frilly outfits and having your hair expertly styled daily.. it's extremely looked down upon to neglect or hurt your human in any capacity so you're practically worshipped
We're so loyal and sweet after all :[[ loving head scratches and cuddles, even if it takes us a while to get used to our odd looking owners, all humans come around eventually!
(Alternative idea, human that was first abducted for harsh expiramentation being rescued and fawned over.. but don't be silly, you can't go home! You're safe with them now, and they're so so sorry about what happened :[ they'll make it better with all the love in the galaxy just for you!)
I love forced agere where the little acts out only to be met with an ever patient, gentle and immovable force.
Like you've been kidnapped, and you have tried everything to escape but it soon becomes clear that this is impossible. So you just become angry instead, fighting your captor at every turn. You scream. You kick and hit. You try to break things. You throw your food.
And every single time, your captor just picks you up and places you in the same damn corner, neutral face, neutral voice, and says "five minutes."
Of course, you don't stay in one place. You run only to be picked up and placed back in the corner, the timer restarting, "five minutes." And again and again and again. Until you've exhausted yourself. Meanwhile, your captor has not shown an inkling of anger or impatience. They could do this all day.
You're a wreck, sitting slumped in the corner, face red and blotchy, hardly keeping your eyes open, and they haven't even done anything to you.
You almost want them to finally lose their patience, to shout at you, to hurt you, so that you can be proved correct. So that you can tell yourself they really are cruel and terrible and you were right to fight them all along. It does not make sense to you that someone would keep you hostage to take care of you. This gentleness is foreign to you. It has to be fake.
Finally, you've stayed in the corner for the full five minutes. They walk over to you, and kneel down.
"Do you know why I had to put you in the corner?" They ask.
You do not respond, but they don't mind.
"I had to put you in the corner because you kicked me. We must use gentle hands in this house. Do you understand?"
You nod faintly.
"I would like you to say sorry now."
"S'rry." You mumble, but it's enough.
"Good girl! Thank you, sweetheart. Let's go and have our lunch now, hm?"
A caregiver who understands you're only little and you will need time to adjust, of course. You're only misbehaving because you are lost and confused. You've been lacking structure and guidance for so long. They can see the little one underneath all the bravado, the one begging to be loved.
----
This form of punishment just makes more sense to me. Because eventually, you would learn that you can never win. That caregiver will never lose their patience or give up on you, no matter how badly you behave. Acting out is just pointless.
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