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cultpastorkevin · 4 months

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Cult Tips for AFTG writers

notes from the resident ex-cult pastor

If you’re in the cult, there is nothing bizarre abt what’s happening and in fact the normal stuff that happens outside of it is what’s bizarre to you. Target? Weird. McDonald’s? Even weirder. I can like guarantee Jean and Kevin never had McDonald’s until they left the Nest.

When you leave, you’re gonna be paranoid as fuck. All the time. Ngl at least for weeks but sometimes for years. Nightmares and insomnia 24/7. Hallucinations too lmao Riko is in every corner of empty rooms and you can hear his voice echo in the confines of the lockers.

I see a lot of Jean wanting to go back to the Nest, but not a lot of Kevin wanting to go back. He definitely struggled, 100%. In fact when he was in the pits of agony from his broken hand, was when he probably wanted to go back the most. Cult is home, cult is safe. Four walls you’ve always known and while it’s a cage at least it’s dependable. They hurt you but by god it always works out and the reward of pushing through this tragic incident is greater than the terror it caused in the first place. It’s a gift, actually. A gift from Riko. He saved Kevin. Cults save you. Cults make you wanna return to them like damn homing pigeons bruh. Give me more shattered hand Kevin screaming at Wymack to let him go back home and having a breakdown when he’s denied fics thanks

Piggybacking off the last one: cults are saviors; you’re nothing without them and they make sure you truly believe that; that everything that is done to you is for you and you’re blessed for it to be happening. You’re lucky even, to be allowed in it. Everything is as it’s supposed to be and order must never be challenged, because it works, and you’re the Edgar Allan Ravens, and this is the most honorable place you could be. All the pain you go through is you earning the right to be saved and to prove your worth every day on court. Only the worthy are honored.

You justify everything that happened and you will start fights and get angry with people who try to correct you and tell you it was wrong what went on.

On the other hand, you blame yourself for everything ever that happened there whether you were at fault or not. Hurting others, hurting yourself, gaslighting the fuck out of yourself over things maybe you could’ve prevented and over things you never could’ve stopped. The guilt is crippling and it eats you alive and haunts you.

There’s a lot of shame too. I see more guilt written than shame but shame is a huge portion of emotions that cult survivors have. Shits embarassing dude like “god how did I end up thinking this wack ass shit was normal” 😐 Shame comes later in the healing process usually, it’s after you have come to terms with shit that’s happened and you understand it. Looking back, you go “Jesus fucking Christ that was a red flag what the hell. Should’ve left then, or then, or then, or then” and then you’re just plain fuckin embarrassed.

Please look up how hive minds and brainwashing are created and work; also Stockholm Syndrome; understanding these would be incredibly helpful tbfh.

Diets are big; everyone eats the same thing; food is used as a reward and a punishment.

Hype hype hype. They whip up a frenzy of one singular emotion and use that to push you into a blind hysteria because you’re more suspectible to their influence when you’re out of your mind.

Drugs. Depends on the cult. But yeah these little bitches can be a huge factor for shit and can help with the brainwashing and hysteria and stockholm. Sometimes you don’t even know you’re being drugged or poisoned until you leave.

OH I ALMOST FORGOT. Dehumanization and then being treated like a person again can be traumatic as fuck yall!! Holy shit! Sometimes it feels worse than being dehumanized!

EDIT AGAIN: you don’t know what mental illness is !! Cults don’t fucking tell you these things lmao. if you show symptoms it’s your fault. Kevin being depressed his mom died was gonna get blamed on him and he was never going to be told grief is normal and it’s okay to be insanely sad. Jean also never got told his anger was correct or his trauma responses to being raped were realistic! They just got blamed for any reactions ever that weren’t neurotypical !! that is all; do with that what you will.

Idk if I think of anything else I’ll write another one but that’s all for now; I haven’t slept much lmao 🫡

#aftg #all for the game #edgar allan ravens #jean moreau #kevin day #riko moriyama #riko was a cult victim too yall #smh keep seeing people forget this #tetsuji moriyama #cult stuff #psycho analysis of aftg #kinda #it’s close enough #castle evermore #aftg fanfic #cultpastorkevin

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under-cotton-and-calicos · 5 months

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Take Me Back To Eden

Multiple Ghosts x AFAB Reader

AN: It’s been a long while. I’ve been busy [insert unhinged ao3 author life update here]. This has been sitting in my drafts for the LONGEST time jeez. Wasn’t really satisfied with any of the directions it took so I finally sat down and committed to something. May or may not have a sequel. I recommend listening to “Descending” by Sleep Token while you read this. As the title implies, I’m kinda obsessed with the band right now. Enjoy!

tags: cult sex, orgy, heavy dubcon, ghosts, ancient deity, mind manipulation, oral sex, vaginal penetration, rough sex, WEIRD CUM

Word count: 3.9k

With a pathetic sputter, the incessant humming of your old corolla’s engine gives way to silence. For a few moments, you sit in the dark and quiet, a mixture of excitement and anxiety raising goosebumps on your skin. You’ve done this hundreds of times, you’re sure that today you’re going to get your big hit. It has to be.

You slam your car door shut and take a deep breath, a gym bag filled with equipment and cameras slung over one shoulder, your free hand guiding the beam of your heavy duty torch across the entrance of the abandoned bar. The old, faded sign perched above its entrance is unreadable, faintly you can make out traces of looping letters. Its battered and dusty exterior belies the rumours you’ve heard about the place.

You were supposed to come with your posse, but every single one of them had work or family issues that cropped up at the last minute. Not one to be deterred by fear, you ended up making the drive down alone. In spite of the cool night, your skin is warm with anticipation as you cross the threshold and slip into the bar.

Not much is known about its origins or history- it’s a small, rundown lot in a slow and quiet part of town, so no one has ever paid it much attention. It had been a hole-in-the-wall style pub that attracted a small and dedicated group of patrons before mysteriously closing abruptly. Hours of digging through the net gave you enough reason to suspect that there was an abnormal cause behind why it still hadn’t been bought out for decades, though. The reports of ghostly apparitions in the crevices of obscure forums led you down a rabbit hole. Soon enough, you managed to find a video posted online, taken by some teenagers roped in by a bet. You studied it for hours, pausing at every frame.

You can still remember the sweet thrill, the goosebumps that formed on your skin when you noticed the wispy, grey figures hidden behind corners in several frames. Jackpot.

Your friends had told you that they were edited but your gut told you otherwise. There was a genuine fear in those kids’ eyes, you bet on it.

As you manoeuvre through old tables and chairs, you notice that the furniture is still well kept, barring the fact that everything is covered in layers of dust.The retro style bar, stools and shelves are all in good condition, though lacking bottles of booze and the typical drink making paraphernalia. Maybe someone still cares for the place?

You notice a few doors that hadn’t been explored in the video, so you try each handle, one of them leading to an empty storage room, another leading to a kitchen behind the bar, the next to a decrepit restroom. Curiously, there’s a long stairway behind a stuffy curtain going down to what you presume is a basement door. There’s an inlaid symbol on the door, made from burnished golden metal, its fine quality at odds with everything else in the bar. You’ve never seen anything like it before- the silhouette of a tree firmly rooted to the earth, its branches and roots reminiscent of…horns?

There’s something compelling about it. Your stomach dips at the thought of you opening the door, but you want to. There’s something on the other side of it.

When you yank on the handle, it doesn’t budge, breaking you out of your momentary stupor. You shake your head and blink.

Caught up in the moment?

“Damn.” You sigh. Typically, you would leave lockpicking to another one of your friends. There isn’t much you can do about it, so you decide to set up a few thermal cameras overlooking the tables and bar, as well as an REM pod for proximity detection on the countertop.

Kneeling behind the countertop, you turn on your spirit box, its harsh white noise filling the quiet. Through the static, you call into the night.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

There’s no response, but you introduce yourself and continue. You’re well accustomed to this pattern already, after years of this. The hauling of equipment, meticulously setting everything up, dicking around for a few hours and then packing up and heading home. Keep the time spent idle low, and expectations even lower. Perhaps it’s because you’re alone tonight. There’s a charge in the atmosphere, a certain secrecy and wonder to the ritual.

“I'd really like it if you told me your name.”

“Like.” The artificial, crackly word emerges from the static.

“Yes, I’d like it if you introduced yourself too.” You wait a few more moments before the next word. For a while, monosyllabic words are all you receive. So you dig and prompt until you tag onto something.

“More.”

“More?”

“M…More tha-an.”

“There’s more than one of you?” You say, peering around the empty bar. There’s no sign of the specters from the video, only swirling mites of dust suspended in the air under the glow of your torchlight. “Where are you?”

“H-Here.”

Suddenly, your REM pod flashes green, red, blue against the shadows, signalling that something is close by, very close by. But instead of its typical bleeping, a warbled wail echoes through the empty bar, causing you to flinch from how loud it is. The fuck?

You turn around and direct your torch towards the pod. Your heart falters.

A crowd of grey specters are standing behind the counter, their forms towering over where you’re kneeled on the ground. Their bodies are featureless, rippling as though they could blink out of existence at any moment, at odds with the physical realm. For a second, you can’t bring yourself to do anything. You feel dread, you're stunned, but underneath it all, the irrational, ghost hunting geek in you is baffled. Holy shit, holy shit.

You jump to your feet, backed against the shelves. Their heads tilt upwards, following your movement. And then you’re fleeing, terror driving you to run from the very situation that you’ve been chasing down for years.

The moment you’re behind the steering wheel, you step on the gas, your corolla protesting as it's jolted out of its sleep and forced to shoot down the empty street. You don’t stop to turn and look.

“Wait.” A real voice overlaps with the one coming from your spirit box still clutched in your sweaty palm, but you don’t stop, turning the corner around the countertop and passing through an ethereal, translucent arm reaching out to stop you. You burst out of the bar into the cooler night air and shakily jam your key into your car, cursing as you struggle to get the door open.

Holy shit, you chant over and over again, they’re real, they’re real!

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Your alarm wakes you from a restless slumber, one of many in the past few months. With a groan, you fumble for your phone with your eyes still closed and turn it off.

“Fuck…” You curse at the soreness in your back and slick between your legs. It happened again last night.

Tugging your underwear down, you stare at the sticky mess you’d created in your sleep. Glimpses of your dream, or nightmare, flash through your head, sending a quiver down your spine. Your breath hitches at the thought, you palm your stiff nipples through your ratty old shirt and begin fingering your cunt, warm and dripping wet.

You’ve been tormented by a string of dreams lately, each one leaving you aching in the morning. So much so that you have had to incorporate masturbation into your morning routine. It’s never satisfying though, your fingers and toys don’t come even close to what you experience in the nasty recesses of the dreamscape hidden in your mind. All of them are vivid and realistic, but when you wake, you can only recall little snatches- greedy hands taking their fill of your body and being bent over, being filled…being defiled.

And with your equipment left at the bar, what can you do? There is no evidence of your findings. You can’t tell your friends that you’ve been having wet dreams almost incessantly since that night alone in the bar. You would seem like a lunatic.

But it wouldn’t be wrong to call this a kind of madness. Frantic and possessive. Bodies cast in vibrant colour, shadowed and swaying against you. Cast in the black behind your eyelids is a gold insignia, beckoning you closer and closer.

With a whimper, you cum, body folding over and shaking as you ride out your climax. Temporarily satiated, you slump back into your pillows dramatically, staring at your ceiling. Something from that bar had followed you home. And you want to go back.

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The empty district is just as quiet as it was the last time you were here. It’s a cold night, and you tug your sweater around your shoulders as you lean back in your car seat. It’s undeniable that you’re a little scared- you feel like one of those idiot teenagers in horror movies that get themselves killed for wandering recklessly into danger. Again, something tells you that it’s different. Or maybe you’re just horny.

With your torch in one hand and your phone in the other, you enter the bar. All of your equipment is just as you left it. You trace your finger over the REM pod on the countertop, dusty but intact. It’s…quiet.

What did you expect? To get jumped the moment you came in? There’s no sign of the specters as well. You’re a bit disappointed, because it means that those dreams you’ve been having might not have been supernatural at all, and worse, the specters might have been a figment of your imagination.

Just as you resolve to pack up your things and leave, a sliver of light catches your eye, cast against the dark floor. Purple light streams between the curtains that lead to the locked basement. Your heart begins to pick up pace again, and you rush over, brushing aside the thick, heavy fabric to see the stairway down illuminated. The door is open!

“H-Hello?” You call out, flicking your torchlight off and leaning it against a step. With hesitant steps, you descend, eyes adjusting to the dim artificial light. You know this atmosphere, this tension in the air from the distinctive purple haze of your dreams. Almost instinctively, your core warms and you can feel yourself shiver, a conditioned response.

When you reach the base of the stairs, your breath stalls in your throat and you can’t help the whimper that escapes your lips. The same apparitions that have been haunting your dreams are there, facing you, as if waiting for your inevitable return. Your nervous eyes scan the rest of the room, it looks like you’ve stepped into another realm entirely- gone are the cheap and neon plastics of the bar, there’s a pool of fabrics and pillows, and an altar, carved from stone with tall pillars of candles by its sides.

Dazed, you don’t realise that you’ve been walking until you’re a few feet in front of the specters, their heads following you uncannily.

“I-I…” You sputter, jittery under their heavy, obscured gaze. They haven’t even done anything to you yet, but your head is all cotton and gauze. Slowly, you sink to your knees.

“My dreams. I’ve seen you there.” You say, awe-struck. A delicate voice replies, soft as a gossamer sheet.

“I am glad that you’ve returned.” It confuses you. You’re not sure if the voice is coming from one of the specters before you or if it’s echoing through your head, like you’re on a phone call with someone in the same room as you. Up close, their forms are ethereal, shimmering and tinted purple from the lights, shifting ever-so-slightly.

You can still make out the shape of a mouth and a nose on their faces, as well as outlines of their limbs and hands. One reaches out to you, fitting the curve of your cheek in the palm of their hand- your eyes widen at the touch, it feels real, cold but solid against you.

“Good one…pretty one…” They close around you, clamouring to touch you. A hand combs through your hair, traces the curve of your ear, another slides past the collar of your shirt to the dip between your shoulder blades, and one presses its fingers against your lips.

Strange, you think, opening your mouth obediently for the cold fingers to savour the wet warmth of your tongue. Every cell in your body is alight, bristling with energy and ready to burst at the seams. This is what you’ve been wanting for so, so long.

How could I have been terrified of them before this?

“More, more.” Not enough of you is exposed it seems. You shed your sweater, your hard nipples visible through thin fabric. The atmosphere bristles a bit, you think, as you finally discard your shirt, your breasts and inviting skin on display for them to grab at, their touch growing more hungry.

They whisper, trailing lower and lower. You close your eyes for just a moment, the jostling bodies around you giving way to darkness as you relish in the feeling of hands that grope your chest, firm nipples being pinched and tugged at, your bare body slowly becoming accustomed to their supernatural chill. Something bumps against your lips and you smile, opening your eyes once again to bat your eyelashes up at the specter that has its stiff cock in hand, unabashedly asking for entry.

You open wide, sticking your tongue out for the specter to slide its head against you. You think you hear a whimper, and you’re pleased to feel it twitching as you close your mouth around it, humming as you bob your head and take more of its length down your throat. It’s solid, hard like a human’s, and you can feel the bump of veins trailing down its shaft. Behind you, one kneels down and presses its torso up against your back, a hand cupping your soaking sex and another kneading your breast.

“Here…!” Two more specters hovering over you tug at your arms impatiently, wrapping your hands around their own dicks. Obliging their requests, you stroke them lazily, eyes flitting between all of the spirits that surround you. The ones that are not latched to your body stand a short distance away, fisting themselves, undoubtedly staring at you get busy. Underneath their innumerable gaze, you’re exhilarated, and a thought flits through your mind- they’ll all have a chance to run you through later, and you’ll be able to experience it all in reality.

The specter shoves two fingers into your needy hole, grinding them against your sweet spot. You falter, but the specter that’s in your mouth clamps its hands around your head, sinking so deep that your face is flush with their crotch. The two rut into your tightened grip, gasping and groaning fills your head.

“So good…so good…Ah!”

When a finger flicks at your clit, you cum hard, body arching and thighs quaking. You’re stunned momentarily, and you swallow back the spit pooling in your throat, squeezing around the specter. Suddenly, its grip in your hair grows stronger, bordering on pain as it cums too, cold, thick liquid shooting into the back of your throat and covering your tongue. It tastes like nothing, you note, gasping for air when it detaches from you and releases its grip on your head.

What catches you off guard is the colour of its seed, a thick white substance that drips down your chin onto the floor between your legs, giving off an otherworldly glow. Immediately, another takes its place- the one on the right that had you fisting its cock guides it into your mouth and plugs you up again. This one is less patient, it holds you in place and fucks into your mouth. They use you like a sex toy, taking turns occupying your hands and mouth, grabbing at your chest and fingering your cunt. Any hesitation or endearing nervousness that occupied the specters has disappeared, and you’re elated. You lose count of how many have cum on you, they spill on your face, your chest, covering you in their ungodly semen. It becomes a dizzying cycle, and between your climaxes and theirs’, you lavish them with all that you can give, just as you did in your dreams. What you can take down your throat, you do gladly, an appreciative hum is your reward when you obediently swallow and accept the spurts of cum onto your body.

Suddenly, after a specter smears its cum across your tits, you’re pulled to your feet. Shaky and tired legs unable to support your body, you’re carried over to the altar that you saw earlier and laid upon it. It’s the perfect height, and you groan as a specter grinds its cock against your wet folds. Your legs are spread wide apart, and the empty spaces around you are quickly taken by eager spirits. They pause though, and seem to wait for something patiently. A name is called, something unintelligible, not in the human tongue, not anything you’ve heard before.

They say something in an alien tongue, and look upwards to the ceiling. There is something you didn’t notice before, the same sigil as the one on the door is painted there. In a split second, a collage of memories are made clear in your mind’s eye- you see offerings of wine and food, people kneeling before hulking statues and trees, orgies in secluded areas where hedonism flourishes, lush with the scent of sex and flowers.

The specter between your legs breaks you out of your reverie, and you’re suddenly in the basement once again, fully aware of your dripping cunt, the need. There’s an energy in the room that wasn’t there previously, charged and crackling. You groan when it fits its bulbous head against your entrance, hands kneading the flesh of your thighs as it enters you. And finally, finally you are one with them. You stare entranced at where you are joined, its thick, translucent cock stretching your starved cunt.

“Fuck me, please.” You rasp, throwing your head back when it begins to thrust into you, setting a brutal pace. Again, the specters crowd around you and put you to work. Closing your eyes, you lose yourself in the wave of pleasure, the friction of the heavy cock in your pussy, the numerous hands that guide you and delight in the touch of your skin.

“You…you…” The voice bristles in your head, and there it is again- snatches of that scene and the voice, it’s getting stronger. You can barely focus, between the ghostly bodies all around you and the thread of a connection to It. They’re both equally addictive- the delicious stretch and fill, the wandering hands all over your overstimulated body, and the irresistible draw to something powerful and primordial. Closer, closer, closer.

The specter fucking into you quivers, its pace quickening and its thrusts growing shallower. It’s about to cum inside you, and you wrap your legs around its translucent torso to force it even deeper inside. In response, its hands grab your hips with so much force that you’re sure they’re going to bruise.

“Perfect.” The word is whispered into the shell of your ear, low but with the power of a command. Instantly, you feel like euphoria has flooded your body, too much of it. Every sensation is painfully amplified, the bliss of each thrust between your legs rapturous and overwhelming. You cum, and the specter does too, you can feel its cold seed like ice in your hot, hot cunt, flooding you, seeping into your being. Every cell in your body is screeching from pleasure so high that it hurts.

“Oh. Too much?”

There’s tears streaming down your cheeks. Your thoughts are melting together and no words form on your tongue, all you can manage is a pathetic nod as your body seizes in agony and orgasmic bliss.

“Apologies, it’s been a while.” It says, and just as quick as it compelled you, the euphoria is sapped from your body. The relief is another form of pleasure, and as you relax, you feel a gush of liquid seep past where you’re joined to the specter- you’re squirting, a puddle of it forming on the altar and dripping onto the floor.

“Sensitive, aren’t you?” It whispers again, cool and calm as you gasp for breath. “I like it.”

“What…what-” You’re cut off by the specter dragging its cock out of you, leaving you gaping for the next one in line. You let out a high-pitched whine as the mix of semen and your slick spills out of you. As though to comfort you, one specter cradles your cheek and promptly nudges its dick past your lips. They seem to be oblivious to the conversation going on, or they carry on in spite of it.

“Don’t think. Just let go.” Another cock is thrust into you, barely giving you any reprieve as it pounds into you, intent on getting you filled again.

What are you?

“A vague question gets you a vague answer.” It tuts, “I am the bliss that found its way into your dreams, the cruelty that left you wanting more, and the hunger that brought you back here to me.”

Hands reach out to pinch and twist your nipples and clit, forcing you to let out a muffled yelp.

“It hardly seems fair for you to pay little attention to those who have been fucking you so vigorously. Well, given that you can’t form a coherent thought, the ones that have you speared on their cocks are my most devoted followers. They have been so gracious as to offer their spirits for my perusal.”

And now you understand- it’s a god, an ancient deity on the ceiling looking down upon you, casting its impartial and frigid gaze on this debauchery, orchestrated for its sake.

“And you, my little pleasure, are the first taste of life I’ve had down here in a long time.” Its tone has a vicious bite, excitement palpable. At that, the specters, or puppets in you cum, the elation of their master influencing their own pleasure, no doubt. You choke around the cock forced down your throat, cutting off your breathing until it pulls free from you and you choke down air and seed.

You’re so replete, so tired, you’re not sure whether you can take anymore-

“You will.”

Warily, you sweep your gaze across the hoard of hungry spirits hunched over you.

“After all, isn’t this what you wanted?”

Throughout the night, you’re used over and over, your poor cunt fucked and filled more times than you can count. Just as you think it may end, another specter is between your legs, alternating between lapping up the mess between your legs and pumping its seed into you again. All while some ancient and cruel god speaks to you. With each climax, you feel your consciousness slipping further away, the teasing and praise of the voice in your ear growing ever more distant…

When you wake, you’re exhausted. The specters had disappeared, leaving you on the altar. Despite the throbbing in your core and muscles, you manage to pull your clothes back on and make your way up the stairs, the unpleasant stickiness of your skin urging you to get home as soon as possible so you can take a shower.

A draft sends a chill down your spine, a whisper like a caress brushes past you.

I’ll see you soon, little pleasure.

You’re relieved to see your corolla on the streetside, and as you limp to your car you make a mental note to pack up your equipment the next time you’re here.

#monster x reader #monster x human #terato #monster lover #terato writing #monster nsft #nsft #cult stuff #COTTON HAS FINALLY POSTED SOMETHING #HUZZAH!!!!!#exophilia

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lazy-toad · 2 months

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Enjoy this meme I'm so tired

#sorry stumbled across some usual bullshittery that made me remember how much i hate the weird attitude so many ppl have towards cults #not to get too deep or anything it just irks me #and it's everywhere as well it's not just 13yr olds making edgy jokes it's like every other tv show or movie yknow #cult stuff #cults #i don't even know how to tag this stuff I'm just so tired please #exmo

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conspiracycreepclub · 2 years

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Giggling, blushing, twirling my hair, kicking my legs, laying on my stomach while preforming a demonic ritual.

#buzzfeed unsolved #shane madej #cult stuff #aniawtf

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pleaseignoretheseposts · 7 months

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imagine eide going back to the rest of the cult and having to explain that he attacked mae and as a result there was an avalanche and the elevator broke and now they're all stuck down there like. awkward

also him losing his arm/the arm they find at the beginning indicating that something is Afoot? excellent symbolism.

anyway i know the cult was sooooooooo pissed. idk how long they could've survived down there but i hope for his sake eide died falling down the elevator shaft bc otherwise they would have 100% eaten him alive

#night in the woods #nitw #nitw mae #nitw bea #nitw angus #nitw gregg #nitw eide #cult stuff

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yanban-san · 10 months

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I keep daydreaming about a darling who goes undercover to investigate this weird new local cult, and ends up very quickly rising through the ranks because suddenly whatever they're worshipping is actually responding now, but it's only to her. Instant high priestess, much to darling's distress and the twin's delight (and the mad jealousy of a few followers).

Oh oh oh, I have had such ideas about this at length... Especially for our darling boys who don't particularly desire a cult, ya know? (Also I want to gush about some OCs) [Some half-written ideas in here too]

I still haven't written much on it, but in the eldritch boy's AU I do picture there are other eldritch horrors running around- Not necessarily in Unova, but elsewhere in the world, you know? They have their own cults, amassing innocent, clueless followers to do their bidding...

But the boys keep Unova- And you- Safe from those fools. A cult tries to build a new compound or a temple in Unova? Earthquake or sudden fire happens or massive gas leak, the cult is gone. Someone's trying to proselytize about their sweet, super-cool God who will break free from the chains they were bound in thousands of years ago and bless those who honor it's return? Car accidents happen all the time in Castelia- Better it happens to them then someone who actually matters, you know?

But I have pictured the train boys getting a cult... And possibly a lot of people interested in their movements. Maybe even the Depot Agents having a cult to their lovely Bosses? Who knows.

Or maybe a weird train cult just pops up in Nimbasa. Trains are well loved, and some psychics have noticed there's a lot of strange power around the tracks... And they begin to amass. Some psychics have strange visions of strange monsters, strange lights, and deep, impenetrable darkness- Some regular folks notice strange irregularities and strange... almost glitches, in the fabric of reality on the subway- Their pokemon are jittery. They themselves are jittery. Gleaning what they can from visions and frenzy and dreams, they erect their own false temple, and pray and make offerings to the strange light and darkness of the temple. They sometimes look for others who share their feelings- Especially on one particular forum in the AU- The lit.wick website. A popular place to post about strange paranormal happenings in Unova, and the site owner had to make a separate board for the Subway of Nimbasa alone- Far too many strange things happen down there and it was flooding the rest of the boards, you know. The owner of the website himself is even beginning to investigate the tunnels... And the cultists realize the Depot Agents carry a strange energy about them- And the Subway Bosses themselves carry an even stranger energy- Have they been somehow blessed by whatever slumbering deity lurks within the Subway? But the Station Masters are not stupid enough to let these mere mortals know their nature- So they may appear oddly powerful, but nothing the cultists freak out about. But you? Oh, they forgot about how many gifts they've given you- How they've showered you in their protections and charms and blessings-

You're getting tired of being stopped by the strange people who lurk outside the Subway at seemingly all hours of the day. When the police break up one small group and tell them to move on, another soon moves in- And each time, they feel the need to pester you. "You do not realize it, but you've been blessed, O Young One." The cultist addressing you wore a dark cloak and thick spectacles that obscured most of his face. "I have not," You retort. Of course. "On the contrary," The man snorted, "Your life has taken a turn for great fortune recently, hasn't it?" "No it has-" You stopped. Hadn't it, though? "And not only that, but you bear promises from the Ineffable Mysteries of the Tunnels." He continued on. He caught you- The moment you caught yourself doubting your rejection, he'd caught you. "The feather in your cap gives off an unmistakable power... As does whatever you hide in your breast pocket." "Nonsense," You snapped, getting tired of this. "I highly doubt your- God, or whatever it is you're playing pretend with, would drop a feather at my feet-" "Ah, but it dropped at your feet, did it not? And you keep it in your hat? Why there?" The cultist half-sneered with every word coming from his lips. "And of the thing in your pocket- What of that?" "That- That was... Nothing, my boss was going to throw it out and he gave it to-" "He gave it to you? I highly doubt he was going to throw it out. He may have found it, but it was intended for you, O child. Did your boss seem strange when he was... going to throw it out? Did it seem urgent that you take that curious thing with you?" Your memory of that day Ingo gave you the scale was a little fuzzy- But- You felt a chill run down your spine. He had pressed it into your hand- And the intense, troubled look on his face- He asked you to keep it, in a voice that was strangely urgent-

And you certainly had good fortune. But you'd had good fortune even before you started working at Gear Station- But hadn't you also lost your job, and the only place you could find employment was at Gear Station? You went silent and turned away from the man. "Enough of this. Leave me alone." And you ignored his protests as you bolted across the street, booking it to your apartment. You took the feather off of your cap. Placed it on a bookshelf. You took the scale out of your breast pocket. Placed it on a bookshelf. You stared at them both. A white feather and a black scale. One gotten by chance, the other given to you- Why would Ingo give you a scale? It made no sense- He battled with pokemon every day. Pokemon lost fur and feathers and scales constantly- So why that one? You'd been blessed. And whatever blessed you, wanted you to know you'd been blessed- Or chosen. For something. And that thought seemed far scarier to you than anything else. You swallowed hard. Perhaps you wouldn't wear the scale and feather anymore to work. ------- I do have a rough sketch (VERY rough) of the guy who runs the lit.wick paper and website- I need to clean it up and actually draw the pokemon, as well as draw his assistant, Lowell Blackthorn- But I will share Jack here for now. I've been really liking the idea of writing a Darling who's a lot smarter/coy/cunning for the eldritch boys (And also over tired and overworked) and instead of immediately going to work for Gear Station, ends up working as a writer for the lit.wick paper at first.

Name: Jack Langton

Occupation: In the Eldritch AU, He is the owner of the famous/infamous website Lit.Wick, and the associated paper published quarterly with it; The paper primarily focuses on everything horror/supernatural related, having sections for scary stories submitted by writers, or actual investigations into supernatural phenomena around Unova. However, the paper gained fame by writing massive exposes on different cults and their illegal/abusive practices in Unova, and helped to break them up- As well as exposing fraudulent psychics and so-called "mages" across the region. The paper became rather infamous however, when Langton began investigating several cult influences into the Unovan government- And exposed the crimes and perversion of a number of politicians across Unova. The paper had a smear campaign launched against it, and after several near-death incidences happened under the Lit.Wick Publishing House and Paper, it fell into obscurity and is primarily known now as more of a "for fun" paper that only talks about paranormal investigations or click-bait style articles with titles like "Top Ten Haunted Locations in Northern Opelucid". Langton himself is super friendly and protective of his small staff team- He also adores kids, and his pokemon, very dearly! He has- His trusty and old companions, Stoutland and Arcanine, a small pidove, a Lilligant, and a golett that used to not work... until he moved to Nimbasa, and one night while he was putting it outside by one of the subway's surface access tunnels, it suddenly sprung back to life, and has since recognized Jack as it's owner.

#monster au #demon au #eldritch submas #monster submas #OC #OC jack langton #cult stuff #eldritch #eldritch au #submas #I apologize if this makes no sense it's 3 am and I wrote this in like ~20 min???

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arkhamsmoke · 1 year

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Coming to Tumblr from Twitter after elon's meltdown

#buzzfeed unsolved #shane madej #we are watcher #ghost files #twitter #cult stuff #ghost hunting #ryan bergara

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idabackwardsintherain · 17 days

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I recently found out that there have been at least two lawsuits against my former school, one of which alleges abuse and was filed while I was a student there and yet none of us knew about it. A friend has helped me to obtain the court records (they're not confidential but they're also not online) and will share them with me shortly. I know they're going to be disturbing, but I can't wait to read them.

The lawyer who filed the complaint was actually disbarred several years later and declared a vexatious litigant (someone who files a lot of lawsuits without merit) for a number of reasons. The ruling didn't list the lawsuit against the school to be without merit; the problem with it wasn't that she sued the school on behalf of her son, it was that she didn't give him his share of the $60k settlement.

(Despite being able to afford this, they refused to hire a janitor and made the students clean the whole building instead. One of my jobs involved cleaning the boys' bathroom floor on my hands and knees with a rag. It's one thing to teach kids responsibility by having them clean up their own messes, but could they not at least buy a mop?)

I don't want to pester my friend, but I really want to read those files.

#cult stuff #previously in my life #the train

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tkilian · 8 months

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Distressing post-Roman rituals

#tom kilian #drawing #artists on tumblr #cult stuff #creeps

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alastairstom · 8 months

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i actually feel genuinely sad for yeonmi park even though there's 0 doubt in my mind that she's full of shit. north korea is basically a massive cult, and she escaped there only for the right to take advantage of her gratitude and turn her into a mouthpiece for their alt right cult agenda. like, as a cult survivor, i can so easily see and understand the pipeline despite my personal dislike of her. it's a sad story any way you slice it and i think we really should look at her with more nuance than "believe everything she says" or "she's a liar." it's also clear that her stories change a lot BOTH because she's told a lot of lies and because she has a lot of trauma-caused memory lapses. it's not one or the other. it's both.

#yeonmi park #cult stuff #shes harmful but not malicious imo #like. she was so vulnerable and had basically no education #but also she SHOULD have learned better by now #that's true #but did she have a choice?#no

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xxbabybeansproutxx · 8 months

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Me getting ready for spoopy season:

#cult of the lamb #cult of the lamb fanart #fan art #artists on tumblr #art #cute art #cute #cotl lamb #cult stuff

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cultpastorkevin · 5 months

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Dependent Personality Disorder, Kevin Day, & the Edgar Allan Ravens

brought to you by an ex cult pastor w/ crippling mental issues

well let’s just jump right into it ngl (also if I miss anything or forget something give me a pass I have amnesia and a one track mind so I definitely missed stuff)

Okay so the whole Ravens always have a partner, never go anywhere alone, if one fails you both pay, etc. I’ve been thinking about this for weeks and I don’t see it broken down and discussed at length enough, so imma try to do that from a mixed personal experience & psychology perspective

The fact Jean, Neil and Kevin have all stated in books and in the extra content that not having that presence next to them was devastating (much less so for Neil okay he didn’t spend fucking years there); Nora has also talked about how Ravens are basically unable to function if left alone; you can’t send them to the store alone or leave them places or expect them to be capable of completing tasks without their other half; TSC reeks of Jean having to learn how to function without a double and it’s gonna be a trainwreck for Jeremy bc how the fuck can Jean be this old and not feel able to have a room on his own anyways—

What is Dependent Personality Disorder?

The DSM-5 refers to DPD as a pervasive and excessive need to be taken care of, which leads to submissive and clinging behavior and fears of separation. It is characterized by excessive fear and anxiety. DPD begins by early adulthood, is present in a variety of contexts, and is associated with inadequate functioning. Symptoms can include anything from extreme passivity, devastation, or helplessness when relationships end; avoidance of responsibilities; and severe submission.

According to the DSM-5, the disorder is indicated by at least five of the following factors:

has difficulty making everyday decisions without an excessive amount of advice and reassurance from others.

needs others to assume responsibility for most major areas of their life.

has difficulty expressing disagreement with others because of fear of loss of support or approval.

has difficulty initiating projects or doing things on their own (because of a lack of self-confidence in judgment or abilities rather than a lack of motivation or energy).

goes to excessive lengths to obtain nurturance and support from others, to the point of volunteering to do things that are unpleasant.

feels uncomfortable or helpless when alone because of exaggerated fears of being unable to care for themselves.

urgently seeks another relationship as a source of care and support when a close relationship ends.

is unrealistically preoccupied with fears of being left to take care of themselves.

Since I only need 5, and I don’t want to bore everyone to death, I’ll just do 5.

needs others to assume responsibility for most major areas of their life

Kevin spent well, basically his entire life having everything picked out for him by others. Exy was chosen for him. Where he lived, when he slept, what he ate and when was chosen. Riko and Tetsuji dictated his every fucking step up until he left. Kevin didn’t learn anything he wasn’t supposed to learn and therefore automatically expected others to do it for him because that’s what he was taught to do. Kevin’s only skill in life is Exy, which means he doesn’t have any other skills (well he does, he just doesn’t think they’re useful or important). Ravens are taught to be dependent on each other because without each other, they’re not whole or a person; they’re dehumanized until they begin to assign responsibility to someone they think is more equipped for it, is better for it, which is usually an authority figure (in this case, those figures are Riko and Tetsuji). Tetsuji knew exactly what he was doing by creating the psychological mindfuck of an inter-dependent group that is the Ravens. He took a bunch of young adults, gave them a god, and then helped that god beat them into numb dissociation until they couldn’t think for themselves and were even afraid to.

has difficulty expressing disagreement with others because of fear of loss of support or approval

Reminder that DPD is prevalent in people who have been excessively abused and it’s also characterized by extreme anxiety. For people like Kevin and the Ravens, expressing anything other than what Riko and Tetsuji wanted could get them killed; it wasn’t just about being terrified of disapproval or protection, it was because losing anything from the group meant you were gonna get hurt (usually badly). Jean was literally waterboarded for shits and giggles, you think Riko is gonna take someone saying no very well (Neil Josten drove him insane I can tell u that much)? Ravens have a hive mind mentality because a hive mind keeps them alive and safe. Kevin had a hive mind when he was with Riko, and I’d argue he still had the remnants of one when he was with the Foxes. Riko breaking his hand was the only thing that broke him out of it, and even then, it barely did. Kevin only started mouthing off to Riko when Neil (bless his scrungly ass) started shaking Riko’s brain like a maraca. He had someone he could depend on in those situations because, again, Ravens always do things together. Kevin wouldn’t fucking dream of shitting on Riko at Kathy’s show by himself. Kevin spent 10+ years at Evermore with his sanity hanging on the hook of a batshit adoptive brother whose approval or disapproval would dictate if he was allowed to sleep. So yeah, I’d say Kevin had a violent need to always express agreement and do everything Riko wanted whether he liked it or not because the anxiety and terror of not doing so outweighed any sense of self preservation he could have. That ties in w the next one.

goes to excessive lengths to obtain nurturance and support from others, to the point of volunteering to do things that are unpleasant

Riko utilized abuse in a lot of ways; Nora put in her extra content that he had other Ravens rape Jean; imo, those Ravens most likely didn’t fucking want to, but going to excessive lengths to stay within his approval and be safe? Yeah, they were gonna do it. Tetsuji and Riko also make the Ravens never miss practice or any other shit they want them to do, regardless of the state they’re in. Which means you’re going to practice when you’ve been raped the night before; it means you’re going to practice after getting butchered all night by your other half, etc. Anyways; when Kevin works with the Foxes, he repeatedly does the opposite and basically throws a fit if someone steps on court that isn’t in shape to. This begs the eye raiser that he didn’t want those things happening at Evermore, but he did them anyways because his need for approval and the anxiety of not doing so, outweighed the fact he hated doing it. He was so dependent on Riko and staying close that he was pretty willing to toss anyone and everyone under the bus to meet expectations even if they left a nauseating pit in his stomach. Doing unpleasant things for the person you’re attached to is hard, but their praise and approval after the actions erase all previous anxieties, which then fuels a broken cycle of seeking out that approval and continuing to engage in unpleasant actions out of fear of not recieving that pending approval afterwards. It’s hard to explain succinctly the mindfuck DPD causes your thoughts to be like when you have it.

urgently seeks another relationship as a source of care and support when a close relationship ends

Kevin lost Riko. You know what he gets next? Fucking Andrew. I don’t even know if I need to explain this one because Kevin’s dependency on Andrew is so prevalent and excruciatingly obvious throughout the whole series lmao. Kevin ain’t gonna admit it but he relies on Andrew like a starving man relies on garbage (no offense Andrew). Kevin’s duo dependency with Riko was shattered to its core and guess what idiot he latches onto to fill the void? Andrew ofc. I think out of everyone, Andrew is probably the healthiest until Neil comes along (still think it should’ve been a polycule but I digress).

Riko’s obsessiveness and possessiveness with Kevin was crippling to Kevin and left him without the ability to exist without a buffer. Andrew’s apathetic ass and explicit understanding of consent is needed to balance out Riko’s emotional instability and disregard for Kevin’s autonomy. I would go so far as to say it was dependency that forced Kevin to become more independent because Andrew wasn’t going to sit on his ass and wait for Kevin to figure it out or heal. Kevin only struggled into some form of functionality out of what I personally see as a crippling people pleasing need to be useful and that came from being dependent on those around him. He became semi functional (I use this so vaguely bc that man would not be functional in the real world) out of necessity and obligation to those around him, not because he actually healed or processed his shit.

Ignoring your own issues to meet expectations of the one(s) you’re dependent on is stereotypical avoidance and signs of people pleasing and also it’s a trauma response. Kevin quite literally just went “yeah well I have some problems but I’m going to push those aside bc nothing else matters besides Exy” and then proceeded for the entire series to use Exy, Neil, and Andrew as ways to try to avoid his trauma history. He’s kinda insane for that but also I get it, because placing your trauma lower than something else and then in turn obsessing over something or someone helps you compartmentalize and pseudo-function until you eventually snap and have a massive meltdown. Another thing is that when you’re living in an abusive environment you can’t afford those meltdowns. I like think that after all the shit happened in AFTG, Kevin just lost his shit for a period of time because it’s a very reasonable trauma response in victims for once you’re finally safe, you just shatter from all the pressure you’ve been avoiding in yourself. It’s only after you shatter that you can heal, and you can’t do that unless you’re in a space that you’re allowed to. And Tetsuji kept his Ravens in a headspace where they couldn’t.

feels uncomfortable or helpless when alone because of exaggerated fears of being unable to care for themselves

Ngl I’ve kinda already covered aspects of this but I just wanna reiterate what Nora said abt this specifically in her extra content that “Kevin is the one who warns Jeremy he (Jean) cannot go anywhere alone, “we Ravens don’t know how” and “Being able to go to class or the grocery store or the gym without any of his teammates in attendance is just—unfathomable” in regards to Jean Moreau’s transition into the Trojans. This is just kinda, explanatory. We’re talking about college age athletes who have been hazed and abused so much that the idea of going to a class alone isn’t even a concept to them; Kevin explicitly tells Jeremy that Ravens don’t know how to do things. They’re dependent on each other. Kevin is not only speaking to help Jean, but when he says “us Ravens” he’s including himself in that statement because he can’t either and he knows how hard it is to try to acclimate to suddenly being thrust into individuality when you haven’t had it in years. Unlike most of the Ravens, Kevin and Riko (and eventually Jean as well) grew up having that inter dependency made into a core personality trait. They hate each other and they love each other, their failures and wins depend on each other, one can’t breathe without the other suffering for it. At what point does trained and conditioned, and ultimately encouraged, dependent behavior turn into brainwashing and dehumanization until there’s nothing left of you but the one you’re dependent on?

Finally

I’m not saying Kevin Day or all of the Ravens have DPD; but what I am saying is that they have extreme traits at the least of it and it is entirely fucking reasonable to me that at least a few of them ended up with DPD or similar disorders because of the shit that happened to them in the Nest. People forget that trauma and adverse circumstances (especially from young ages like Kevin and Riko and Jean) can cause you to develop disorders or even mimic symptoms of disorders because those traumatic events caused reactions that are disordered behaviors. I feel if anything is to be nitpicked, it’s Kevin’s absolute bitchiness, because god he can be an asshole, and someone somewhere could argue because he has that antagonistic streak, DPD is entirely out of the question.

Unfortunately, the dichotomy exists of knowing when you can be bitchy and maintain submissiveness. Kevin probably learned where and when and to what extent he could tow that line when he lived in the Nest, whether it was taking out his anger and his anguish on other Ravens, on the court, or on the Foxes when he moved over. In my experience, my own explosive anger issues had to be portioned out, I had to know who I could do that to, be like that with. When and where was the correct time to lash out and when I was gonna get hit for it. Kevin isn’t stupid, he knew what Riko and Tetsuji were like. He also knew he had the upper hand in the power dynamic over the Raven’s on court. If he went for blood out of anger during practice, triggered by if Riko hurt him too much or took too much from him, other Ravens just had to take it, or worse, probably were encouraged to encourage the brutality.

All in all, I think Tetsuji created an absolute fucking labyrinth of a psychological warzone that both forced submission and rewarded dominance; it left lasting behavioral traits and triggered disorders that crippled Ravens, some for their entire lives. I wanna bet probably no former Raven went to therapy; the ones that got divvied up after the Nest closed probably were required to by their new teams, and they probably are the only generation that maybe were able to heal from it. In the extra content, Thea decided because Kevin could play again, “no harm no foul” on Riko’s end. If that’s not hivemind, culty, worshipper behavior, idk what is. That’s not a normal reaction, but it is a conditioned one.

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neon-pink-witch · 1 year

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Here's how I almost got sucked into a cult through homemaking and how Cyberpunk saved me

I have the time and the spoons today so I want to talk about this. This is prolly going to be a very long post but I feel like its important to talk about this.

Let me start with my mental state around 2020 or so. I was in a bad place.

I found out that my brother had been the one to publicly deface my home a few months back. This, on its own, trigger massive anxiety and paranoid episodes for me that I still struggle with badly today. A few weeks before I found out, someone falsely called Social Services on me. This would be the second time I got a false call(the first one had nothing to do with my brother and the person not admitted they were wrong but left the entire fucking county). The social service call happened while my MIL was in the hospital from a stroke. I was in an extremely dark place. The world was against me and now I had proof. I felt that the cars that drove by my house were watching me. I still have days where I'm convinced my neighbors are out to get me(they are not). I didn't know what to do. I looked into therapy but couldn't afford it. I learned that my brother was making fun of me behind my back. For my clothes, my home even my religion. My mindset was:If someone who is supposed to protect me, someone who is my family will treat me like this, then what will the rest of the world do to me? I was scared, I was angry, I was vulnerable. I felt I had no community anywhere and I didn't speak to most of my friends for a year.

I threw myself into my house. Trying to manically make it perfect. I found the term "homemaking" and started joining groups, following pages. Here was a group of people who understood me! The world was against them too! It was taboo and different for a woman to stay at home instead of working. The world was against me too! I had the proof! And somehow, I felt home. I didn't notice the roof was on fire, I couldn't smell the smoke, I was just happy to be in a living room. They too had been attacked by the world for being different, just like me! Shortly after, I found the term "tradwife" and while I didn't vibe with it, I was so deep that I couldn't see. These people just wanted to live their lives! Why would everyone attack them? So what if they were Christian? Maybe the supported trad-gender roles but I couldn't see past anything. I was part of a community that knew what it felt like to be alone and have the world against you.

I slowly stopped dressing in the goth/emo fashion I'd worn since 13. I was grown up now, and really, wasnt that for kids? I needed to be taken legit as a parent and a spouse I needed to make sure no one would ever hurt me again so I had to make myself small. Sure, they were submissive to their husbands but I was too! Maybe a different kind of submissive(wink, wink, nudge nudge locking necklace) but they understood submissiveness. I started wearing more dresses and for the first time in my life, I looked "normal" like everyone else.

This led me to more alt right accounts. Sure, they were extreme, and I didn't believe all the transphobic, homophobic and sexist stuff they posted but for the first time in my life, I ignored it. I spoke out if I felt strong that day but often, I kept following them because they understood me! They knew how it felt to be attacked like I had.

Then I fell deeper. I started to regret getting the COVID vaccine. What had I done to my body? What unknown spooky shit was in my veins? Maybe that was the reason my period was messed up and not the massive stress I was under. Maybe wearing mask indoors was bullshit? Why should anyone have a say over my body but me!!!111!!! After all, they understood me. I was a homemaker, like them. We all talked about how the world was against us, we were the rebels because the most outlaw thing we could do was make a dinner plate for our husbands afterall.

I took my they/them pronouns off my profiles. I started wondering if I really was bi. Me being bi didn't matter afterall because I'm with a cisgendered man. it wasn't important anymore. What was important was being a good woman, doing the best I could for my husband. I found community. I was happy. The house was on fire but I was high off the fumes. I didn't notice what was happening to me.

I decided I needed a new game to play. Figured it was high time I played Cyberpunk 2077 since I hadn't touched it since 2020. At this point it was early 2022. Something spoke to me in a way. I played as my V and fell in love with the game. I started thinking about how this was something my homemaking friends wouldn't like. My tumblr page was all about homemaking. But something about Cyberpunk made me look around.

I don't know what it was. The anti-corpo message, the beauty of Night City, Johnny Silverhand making me question if I am cis but suddenly, shit didn't add up. Why was I following these people who would hate me if I was married to woman? Why was I in groups who thought it was a woman's duty to be submissive to a man? Jesus fucking Christ what the fuck was I doing? This wasn't me. I didn't want to wear dresses all the time, they give me chub rub. Sure I'm submissive to my husband because its hot and gets me off and he's my Dom but I still have a voice. I started to look around and I figured out, that no one cared that I was a stay-at-home mom. The world wasn't against me. In fact, most people were fine with a woman staying home with her kid. That was all I could think as I drove around Night City: what the fuck was I doing??

I woke up one morning and found Roe V Wade was overturned.

All of these people screamed in victory because yay! Rights for the unborn....right? No. No not right. Then they turned against me. It didn't matter that medically it would be unsafe if I got pregnant. That was my purpose as a vagina owner. To be bred by my husband and not in the sexy role playing way and I should be honored to carry a child no matter how the fetus got into my body. Suddenly the living room I was sitting in, wasn't just on fire but being fueled by the people in it. Splashing gasoline and then calling it water.

One day, I broke. I left almost all of the homemaking groups I was in (the few I'm still in are very inclusive), I redid my tumblr page. I changed my URL to what it is now and made a short post about how I could no longer be part of the homemaking community and that it was time I started being "me" again. I joined the Cyberpunk fandom and started having fun again. I started writing.

I needed a new podcast and started listening to one simply called "Cults". Slowly, things fell into place. At first I kind of laughed at anyone foolish enough to believe that some white dude from Ohio was Jesus. But then I started listening. The ex-cult members spoke about how they were hurting, lonely, scared, angry and looking for community and something to believe in. And then I looked in the mirror. And I understood why they thought some white dude from Ohio was jesus. Because they were hurting the same way I had been and they just wanted to feel accepted, like me.

Now we are here. Its 2023. I've bleached my hair, I'm back to dressing like a Myspace reject because it makes me happy. I re-added my pronouns. And I crawled out of that burning house without making a sound. Well, now I'm screaming about it.

The trad community is a cult. The alt right is a cult. And it damn near sucked me in. Because I was bleeding and hurt and broken. But they never saved me. They just pushed me further into isolation. I'm still working on cleaning out my social profiles due to it. If you ever find an old post of mine that seems way out of it for me, let me know. I'm still cleaning the digital mess.

If you wish to judge me, hate me, unfollow me for this. Then that's okay. I'm ready for any hate I may get from this. But I need to be honest. Because this can happen to anyone. You are not too smart, too pretty or too whatever. Because I thought I was. And I wasn't. I was vulnerable. And someone where between Night City and black lipstick, I found my way out.

I don't know what to close this with other than this, to the Cyberpunk community, thank you.

#leaving cults #tw cults #far right #tradwife #cult stuff #cyberpunk #cults

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conspiracycreepclub · 7 months

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𝐈𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐞𝐥?

There are many stories about gods being cruel, about gods being nothing but self-esteem and torturing those who lessen them.

Myths are stories made by man, we project our ideals and beliefs onto them so why must we make the gods so cruel?

There are controversial beliefs about good and evil; what makes something good? Are our desires considered evil? Morality is another thing people like to obsess about, is it even real? Nature isn't good nor evil, you can’t say that it is good due to all the disasters that have killed millions, you cannot say that nature is evil due to all the resources it has blessed us with.

Or is it God?

“If He’s up there, He just loves it.”

He created us in His image. What does that say about us? What does that say about Him?

𝐵𝑦 𝐴𝑛𝑖𝑎 𝐸𝑙𝑖𝑧𝑎𝑏𝑒𝑡ℎ

#religious art #storytime #cult stuff #aniawtf #hannibal #writing #writers and poets #human cruelty #the cruelty is the point #a little something #weird shit #analyzes #Ania Elizabeth

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generic-whumperz · 4 months

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CW: IRL cult experience, MLM (as in “multi-level marketing,” not “men-loving man”), mentions of depression and thoughts of suicide, talk of pursuing legal action

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Disclaimer- This is all my personal experience, and thoughts and feelings expressed here are only my own and do not reflect the organizations or all persons within the organizations.

***

I know this is a weird place to be sharing what I’m about to, but quite honestly, I don’t know where else to divulge this information other than Reddit.

Here we go-

Several years ago, I accidentally joined a cult within a cult, a subset of Amway at the time called “World Wide Dream Builders.” They have since renamed their organization “World Wide Group” because they began getting negative affiliation with their name as people began exposing them online. (Just Google “World Wide Dream Builders” if you are interested.) But make no mistake, this is the same damn company cult, run by the same people, doing the same shit, and probably using the same or similar tactics.

After moving out of state in 2018 for a myriad of reasons, but a determining number of them being my need for a clean slate, I began to slowly unpack what the fuck I was just a part of and started a long healing journey (from that and much else). A significant component to my understanding of what was really going on and how cults and MLMs operate were the podcasts “Life After MLM,” “Sounds Like A Cult,” “Sounds Like An MLM But Okay,” and “The Dream.” And, of course, Leah Remini’s series “Scientology and the Aftermath” helped me realize just how deep-rooted cults are in American culture at large. If you’ve been in one cult, you’ve kinda been in all of them. (Additionally, r/antiMLM is an excellent source for all things anti-MLM, and this Facebook group is great for ex-members of WWDB/WWG specifically.)

It took me years to make peace with myself over how I could have gotten mixed up with such blatant bullshit and fuckery. I wasn’t in for very long, but those five months where I was dedicated and “all in” (as they say) were a roller coaster, and my mental and physical health was at an all-time low. I was extremely depressed and, at a point, even suicidal, largely due to the “brainwashing” (thought-stopping clichés, love-bombing, and bait-and-switching) and being fed the narrative that “all my problems would go away if I just practiced CORE” (the cult’s acronym for how each good little IBO {another bullshit acronym short for “independent business owner”} should be living day-to-day). I was extremely volatile at the time, and instead of being told that I just needed to “lean into my upline” (my culty superiors), by my upline, they should have urged me to seek professional counseling and help. They were not therapists, psychiatrists, or counselors to any degree, yet they loved to masquerade around as such.

I could go on and on about all this, but the point of me sharing all this is that back in 2020, I submitted a formal complaint (against either Amway or WWDB, or both; it’s been a while, so I do not remember which) to the FTC. A couple of months ago, I was finally contacted by a senior investigator regarding my submitted complaint. But at the time, I was sick and bedridden with COVID, and I still haven’t responded to them. To be honest, I don’t know what to do or say. Amway is no stranger to class-action lawsuits, and I believe WWDB changed its name because of class-action lawsuits against them.

I still have some of my official paperwork/documents and notes that I took during our “meetings,” but I don’t know if these have any teeth, as so much has changed internally now. My question is if anyone has dealt with the FTC in regards to MLMs and what their experience was. I’m afraid of doing or saying the wrong thing- I don’t know what to say- where to even start. Or is this more so the FTC trying to add me to a class action lawsuit against one or both companies?

I’m hoping to find someone who has gone through this process and can share some words of advice. Or, if you have an Amway/WWDB/WWG/BWW/etc., feel free to reach out to me or reblog this with your experience! My DM’s are always open to those seeking catharsis in this strange and unusual experience and to validate you that yes, that was happening, and yes, that shit was whack!

*A note to my fellow whumpers: I decided to share this here, on my whump blog of all places, because I feel like there is an overlap of connoisseurs of whump and people who have been through some strange experiences. And because this is the first time I’ve felt safe enough in a space to do so. Know that you are not alone! I shared this in hopes of it reaching and helping someone-anyone. Even if one person gets something from this, that’s more than enough for me. Again, my DM’s and asks are open to fellow culties!

P.S. If you are an Amway/WWG/general MLM sympathizer who feels the unnecessary need to DM me or send me an anonymous ask, don’t. Practice self-restraint. I don’t care to hear whatever string of words you feel so compelled to share, insisting that I’m “wrong,” a “loser,” or a “failure,” and that “the system works” because your upline Crown Diamond, Double-Eagle Ruby, Emerald, or your brother, sister, mom, dad, cousin, or whoever else told you so or claims to be a living testament of- it doesn’t and I’m most certainly not. Even if you do know “someone at the top,” it is at the expense of hundreds, if not thousands, of people beneath them, funneling money back up through WWG tool kit systems and dubious “recruitment bonuses.” I won’t read whatever hogwash you send; it will be promptly deleted, and I will block you.

#not whump #cult #culty #cult stuff #cult shit #anti mlm #multi level marketing #MLM #amway #world wide dream builders #world wide group #cult experience

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