#aversion therapy tw
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Whump prompt
Whumper uses a very unethical and unsafe variation of electric shock aversion therapy to condition Whumpee into having severe panic responses to the most mundane of things. Or for extra angst points, they condition Whumpee to have visceral reactions of terror at caretaker's voice/face by taking videos of Caretaker and using them during the torture. Even if Whumpee gets out of captivity, the terror will ruin them.
#Whump#Whump prompt#Whump writing#whump scenario#tw electrocution#Tw aversion therapy#Tw unethical medical conduct#whumper
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being asexual raised purity culture is so funny. am i feeling weird because i'm in a sex averse moment or because of The Shame. who knows !
#little scientist guy moment scribbling notes down like okay it can't be sex aversion right now . quick ! think of sex#and then i do but i Don't Actually and i can't tell if it's because it's making me feel weird in an aversion way or because#i've been too close to purity culture stuff lately#okay wait.#ah it was the shame not the aversion 😔#i need to start posting gay sex again and then i won't feel so guilty 👍#it's like uhhh exposure therapy or something#timothy's txts.#tw emoji#ask to tag
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Sydney Sage: Re-Education + trauma
TRIGGER WARNING: THIS CONTAINS MENTIONS OF TORTURE, INHUMANE ACTS, FORCED FEEDINGS, FORCED DRUG USE, AND FORMS OF AVERSION THERAPY.
To really get into the TRAUMA we must get into the poor conditions the Alchemists kept traitors in. Sydney was kept in a cell for three months before being moved upstairs with the others for the actual re-education aspect. The cell was described as a small, cramped stone cell. Within the cell, it held a sink that dispensed ice-cold water that smelt of rust and a toilet. She had no bed; she was expected to sleep on the hard and cold stone ground. When she had been placed in the cell she had been stripped of her clothes and left naked, a tactic to break her. They kept the lights off, she was in complete darkness for most of the day, and her only form of communication was with someone through a speaker in the ceiling, asking her if she was guilty, trying to find new tactics to break her, bend her to their will. Not only was she tormented by the mystery voice, the nudity, and the bone-chilling cold conditions, they taunted her with objects of comfort; a real bed, warmth, clothing, a real bath or shower, even her cross that unbeknownst to them was made by Adrian, her vampire boyfriend. The catch was she had to admit that she was guilty of going against their values, beliefs, and morals. To admit that she had sinned against her own, that she was TAINTED.
When Sydney first was put into the cell she woke up in the darkness, naked and afraid. She knew where she was (re-education) but she had no idea what was going to happen. Her heart raced and they kept her there without making contact for several hours, presumably seeing what she would do. The darkness was overwhelming, she found herself in weaker moments wondering if she would survive this, if fighting this was worth it.
The food she had been served while in the cell was described as a fortified, tasteless, hot cereal however it was lukewarm at best. When she refused to eat it, going on a hunger strike they forced her to eat through disgusting measures. After that, Sydney learned to eat the food for fear of being subjected to another forced feeding.
Another tactic in their arsenal was to pipe drugs in through the ventilation system daily to either keep her groggy or a stimulant to keep her awake and irritable. The brain can’t function accordingly on such disturbed “sleep”.
Around a month and a half to two months into her three months stay in the cell, they had offered Sydney a paper-thin sleeveless shift that provided no warmth - a gesture of goodwill. She accepted it to try and preserve some dignity as if they weren’t watching her with a night vision camera at all hours.
For much of the three months, Sydney endured their games by thinking of Adrian, all their escape plans and all their stolen moments together. Playing through every conversation that she could remember. Sometimes it became too much, so she’d turn away from the camera and cry until she couldn’t any longer.
When Sydney finally gives in, agrees to re-education, a chance to get proper sleep, to talk to Adrian, to find a way out, she is permitted a 5-minute shower, where khaki scrubs were given. It’s there in the bathroom that she catches a glimpse of herself, her body. Due to malnourishment, she had described herself as having a hollow look, intensified by dark shadows under her eyes and a paleness to her skin from the lack of sunshine.
DURING RE-EDUCATION:
One of the main torture elements is purging: being strapped to a chair and injected with a serum that made you feel nausea that took over the entire body, throbbing of her head, and the internal body temperature skyrocketing, resulting in sweating. After being injected they show images or ask questions about the moroi, dhampirs, and Strigoi. If you answer incorrectly (against the Alchemist way) it gets worse. If participants close their eyes to avoid having to watch the screen, there are methods meant to keep the eyes open.
The first time Sydney was sent to purge she felt so sick to her stomach, not only from the injection but from the agony, the not knowing, the ever so slightly fading of her hope.
The other form of torture is while she was strapped to a chair, Sheridan, the lady in charge of the facility would press a button and part of the arm rest sliding back to reveal a clear liquid. With another click of the button and the armrest would move down into the liquid. The chemical was described as if her skin had touched a pot of boiling water, searing her skin, and setting the nerves on fire. When Sydney refused to say that the Moroi on the screen were evil creatures, Sheridan would lower her arm in for longer periods of time, not relenting despite her screams of pain.
When Sheridan showed Sydney a picture of Jill and Adrian, expecting her to call them evil creatures, Sydney couldn’t do it. She tried to blink away the tears of pain, reminding herself to be strong, that this was just a game. That didn’t impress Sheridan, lowering her arm deeper and keeping it submerged Sydney finally gives in, calling them creatures of darkness. Whether she believed it or not she had to play the twisted game, to survive this torture.
During an attempt to shut off the gas and find a way out, she was caught by Sheridan and struck with a taser. When she came too, she was strapped to a cool table with her extremities and head strapped into place. This would be known as persuasion. The table had been rigged to produce a pain like electric shock, paper cuts and bee stings all wrapped up into one uncomfortable feeling going nerve deep. When Sydney wouldn’t answer, they brought in her roommate, Emma, and began to torture her with the same methods until Sydney told her what she wanted to know.
When Sydney admitted that she was using human magic, she had no clue that Sheridan and the other Alchemists could be so cold. That she was essentially the enemy now and that they had no trouble increasing the intensity.
POST RE-EDUCATION & HER ESCAPE:
I’ve touched on this in another HC but I really want to re-iterate it. The trauma that she endured for four months simply does not disappear as quickly as the novels depict. Trauma like that can take months, years or may never actually disappear.
For Sydney, her healing takes a long time. She has nightmares regularly and can no longer sleep in the darkness, afraid that she will wake up back in that cold cell. Even after her deal with the Alchemists for her freedom, she can’t shake that horrible feeling that it’s going to be ripped away at any moment. The first night outside of the facility, she stayed awake until she could no longer hold her eyes open, her sleep is short lived. Waking up covered in sweat, heart racing and feeling utter panic and fear.
The second most important aspect of her recovery process is her diet, she’d always been obsessed with her figure, one that her father hadn’t helped dissuade. She’d lost an incredible amount of weight and putting it back on was hard. She would try one day, eating as normal as she could and the next in tears because she couldn’t bring herself to eat. It was a source of conflict between Sydney and Adrian.
Sydney will NEVER utter a word about what she endured to a single person she loves for fear of them doing something stupid. She keeps quiet about her trauma aside from what Adrian and Eddie had seen, she doesn’t like to talk about it.
#( x. headcanons )#𝒊𝒔𝒎𝒔.⠀ ⠀ ╱ ⠀ ⠀ SYDNEY SAGE.#tw torture#tw malnutrition#tw aversion therapy#so ouch this still hurts
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Sydney's time in re-education as well as post rescue // TRIGGER WARNING: THIS CONTAINS MENTIONS OF TORTURE, INHUMANE ACTS, FORCED FEEDINGS, FORCED DRUG USE, EATING DISORDERS AND FORMS OF AVERSION THERAPY.
It's also SUPER lengthy so grab a snack friends.
To really get into the TRAUMA we must get into the poor conditions the Alchemists kept traitors in. Sydney was kept in a cell for THREE MONTHS before being moved upstairs with the others for the actual re-education aspect. The cell was described as a small, cramped stone cell. Within the cell, it held a sink that dispensed ice-cold water that smelt of rust and a toilet. She had no bed; she was expected to sleep on the hard and cold stone ground. When she had been placed in the cell she had been stripped of her clothes and left naked, a tactic to break her. They kept the lights off, she was in complete darkness for most of the day, and her only form of communication was with someone through a speaker in the ceiling, asking her if she was guilty, trying to find new tactics to break her, bend her to their will. Not only was she tormented by the mystery voice, the nudity, and the bone-chilling cold conditions, they taunted her with objects of comfort; a real bed, warmth, clothing, a real bath or shower, even her cross that unbeknownst to them was made by Adrian, her vampire boyfriend. The catch was she had to admit that she was guilty of going against their values, beliefs, and morals. To admit that she had sinned against her own, that she was TAINTED.
When Sydney first was put into the cell she woke up in the darkness, naked and afraid. She knew where she was (re-education) but she had no idea what was going to happen. Her heart raced and they kept her there without making contact for several hours, presumably seeing what she would do. The darkness was overwhelming, she found herself in weaker moments wondering if she would survive this, if fighting this was worth it.
The food she had been served while in the cell was described as a fortified, tasteless, hot cereal however it was lukewarm at best. When she refused to eat it, going on a hunger strike they forced her to eat through disgusting measures. After that, Sydney learned to eat the food for fear of being subjected to another forced feeding.
Another tactic in their arsenal was to pipe drugs in through the ventilation system daily to either keep her groggy or a stimulant to keep her awake and irritable. The brain can’t function accordingly on such disturbed “sleep”.
Around a month and a half to two months into her three months stay in the cell, they had offered Sydney a paper-thin sleeveless shift that provided no warmth - a gesture of goodwill. She accepted it to try and preserve some dignity as if they weren’t watching her with a night vision camera at all hours.
For much of the three months, Sydney endured their games by thinking of Adrian, all their escape plans and all their stolen moments together. Playing through every conversation that she could remember. Sometimes it became too much, so she’d turn away from the camera and cry until she couldn’t any longer.
When Sydney finally gives in, agrees to re-education, a chance to get proper sleep, to talk to Adrian, to find a way out, she is permitted a 5-minute shower, where khaki scrubs were given. It’s there in the bathroom that she catches a glimpse of herself, her body. Due to malnourishment, she had described herself as having a hollow look, intensified by dark shadows under her eyes and a paleness to her skin from the lack of sunshine.
DURING RE-EDUCATION:
One of the main torture elements is purging: being strapped to a chair and injected with a serum that made you feel nausea that took over the entire body, throbbing of her head, and the internal body temperature skyrocketing, resulting in sweating. After being injected they show images or ask questions about the moroi, dhampirs, and Strigoi. If you answer incorrectly (against the Alchemist way) it gets worse. If participants close their eyes to avoid having to watch the screen, there are methods meant to keep the eyes open.
The first time Sydney was sent to purge she felt so sick to her stomach, not only from the injection but from the agony, the not knowing, the ever so slightly fading of her hope.
The other form of torture is while she was strapped to a chair, Sheridan, the lady in charge of the facility would press a button and part of the arm rest sliding back to reveal a clear liquid. With another click of the button and the armrest would move down into the liquid. The chemical was described as if her skin had touched a pot of boiling water, searing her skin, and setting the nerves on fire. When Sydney refused to say that the Moroi on the screen were evil creatures, Sheridan would lower her arm in for longer periods of time, not relenting despite her screams of pain.
When Sheridan showed Sydney a picture of Jill and Adrian, expecting her to call them evil creatures, Sydney couldn’t do it. She tried to blink away the tears of pain, reminding herself to be strong, that this was just a game. That didn’t impress Sheridan, lowering her arm deeper and keeping it submerged Sydney finally gives in, calling them creatures of darkness. Whether she believed it or not she had to play the twisted game, to survive this torture.
During an attempt to shut off the gas and find a way out, she was caught by Sheridan and struck with a taser. When she came too, she was strapped to a cool table with her extremities and head strapped into place. This would be known as persuasion. The table had been rigged to produce a pain like electric shock, paper cuts and bee stings all wrapped up into one uncomfortable feeling going nerve deep. When Sydney wouldn’t answer, they brought in her roommate, Emma, and began to torture her with the same methods until Sydney told her what she wanted to know.
When Sydney admitted that she was using human magic, she had no clue that Sheridan and the other Alchemists could be so cold. That she was essentially the enemy now and that they had no trouble increasing the intensity.
POST RE-EDUCATION & HER ESCAPE:
I’ve touched on this in another HC but I really want to re-iterate it. The trauma that she endured for four months simply does not disappear as quickly as the novels depict. Trauma like that can take months, years or may never actually disappear.
For Sydney, her healing takes a long time. She has nightmares regularly and can no longer sleep in the darkness, afraid that she will wake up back in that cold cell. Even after her deal with the Alchemists for her freedom, she can’t shake that horrible feeling that it’s going to be ripped away at any moment. The first night outside of the facility, she stayed awake until she could no longer hold her eyes open, her sleep is short lived. Waking up covered in sweat, heart racing and feeling utter panic and fear.
The months Sydney spent at the re-education center have left her with unseen scars, trauma, and paranoia. She can no longer sleep with the lights completely off for fear that when she wakes in the dark that she is back in that bone-chilling cold cement cell. The month that she had been in the company of others had helped some, but it had also gotten her into trouble where she was forced to endure horrendous measures. After she got out, she stays awake until she literally couldn’t keep her eyes open longer, she woke up drenched in sweat and gasping for air. The feeling that her world was closing in on her was too strong. She REFUSES to tell anybody the true measures taken against her when inside, for fear that those she loves would retaliate and end up dead. She will admit that they used barbaric tactics on her, which is evident in her eyes for the first week after getting out, but she will never tell a soul what happened. She’s scared, constantly looking over her shoulder, isolating herself, overeating to compensate for the lack of proper nutrition then nothing at all the next to compensate.
The diet that had sustained her while there hadn’t been enough, she’d grown very malnourished, it was described as each rib being visible under her skin, and it was a fight mentally and physically to regain much of the weight. Even in her healing process she could hear her father’s condescending words in her head judging her. She would try one day, eating as normal as she could and the next in tears because she couldn’t bring herself to eat. It was a source of conflict between Sydney and Adrian.
Sydney will NEVER utter a word about what she endured to a single person she loves for fear of them doing something stupid. She keeps quiet about her trauma aside from what Adrian and Eddie had seen, she doesn’t like to talk about it.
The novels brush past her trauma and I don’t like that aspect. After coming out of something like that, you don’t just return to normal within a month or two, it is an ongoing and possible life-long battle. From my interpretation of Sydney Sage-Ivashkov, she will suffer with these topics much longer than the novels show.
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I know the answer to this!
Well, a answer, but I can offer some potentially relevant insight!
TL;DR: No, this isn’t just an “Autism Thing,” this kind of developed aversion is a recognized psychological phenomena; however - and this part is just my guess based on experience - the way the Autistic brain processes sensory input may make you more susceptible to developing aversions.
First off, this is an example of a kind of conditioned aversion. This is where you experience something unpleasant, and your brain forms a connection with that and something that occurred recently.
Quoting from an article about Food Aversions:
…research has shown the consumption of the food and the onset of the illness do not necessarily need to occur close together to develop conditioned taste aversions. They can develop even when there is a long delay between the neutral stimulus (eating the food) and the unconditioned stimulus (feeling sick)…
This conditioned taste aversion can occur even if you know your illness is not connected to eating that particular item. In reality, you might be fully aware that you picked up a nasty stomach virus from one of your traveling companions who had been ill just days before the trip…
…virtually every organism is biologically predisposed to create certain associations between certain stimuli.
If an animal eats food and then becomes ill, it might be very important to the animal's continued existence to avoid such foods in the future. These associations are frequently essential for survival, so it is no wonder they form easily.
From this article, emphasis added
Now, obviously, most people would not consider a game “essential for survival,”
However, the principle of conditioning an aversion has been used in the practiced of Aversion Therapy to change behaviors such as smoking or alcohol use.
The practice of Aversion Therapy is - highly controversial to be brief.
If you ever watched A Clockwork Orange, it actually explores the concept and consequences of Aversion Therapy very well.
(If you haven’t watched A Clockwork Orange: assume all the triggers and proceed with that knowledge. It’s simpler that way.)
Anyway, Aversion Therapy isn’t the point, beyond as a target example of conditioning.
Going back to the “Autism Thing,” this is just my own personal conjecture, but as Autistics we learn to be hyper vigilant as a defense mechanism. We never know what behaviors are going to receive ridicule in new situations, what responses we’re going to get from people, and how environments are going to impact our senses.
We rely a lot on classical conditioning to train us into coping with things Allistics seem to just magically intuit.
Coupled with divergent sensory processing, and it makes perfect sense to me at least that feeling physically ill can create a conditioned aversion to an activity as easily as it can to a food, instead of requiring multiple punishing exposures as may otherwise be required.
And yes, you can definitely lose favorite things though conditioned aversions - I definitely have lost safe foods to crummy physical states.
Fortunately, I’ve found if I leave the conditioned aversion alone for about 6 months, I can try approaching it again and see if it’s safe again.
On the other hand, I got into my father’s jalapeño hothouse as a 4 year old, and went from a kid who ate bell peppers off the vine to a 44 year old who eats a third in her cajun pasta through sheer will power before picking out the rest.
Relevant links below cut
A nice pop-psy article on Food Aversions and Classical Conditioning, quoted above:
Wikipedia article on Aversion Therapy, which includes discussions on why it’s controversial. Do not read if ABA therapy is a trigger for you!
An expanded discussion on Aversion Therapy, its effectiveness (or lack there of long-term), and a fairly gentle discussion on the ethical concerns of using Aversion Therapy. Coupled with absolutely dismal long term effective, the article basically says “It exists, people use it, but almost certainly shouldn’t.”
My dad: Do you want to play this game?
Me: No
My dad: Why not? I thought you loved it?
Me: I did but then I played it when I was feeling sick once and now every time I play it I associate it with feeling sick.
My dad: ???
does anyone know why??? like what. i associate so many things like this.
#actually autistic#aversion therapy#tw aba therapy#because it’s aba therapy#classical conditioning#behaviorism#behavioral psychology
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Yandere Hannibal Lecter Headcanons (General)
''Nothing here is vegetarian." — Hannibal Lecter.
❝ 🍽 — lady l: I think it's amazing that my hcs become more and more extensive lol, but you like it, don't you? Hannibal is my newest fixation and I loved writing for him, due to his personality. I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! It's four in the morning here 🤎���.
❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, cannibalism and murder.
❝🍽pairing: yandere!hannibal lecter x gender neutral!reader.
Hannibal Lecter is decorous and very polite and he really appreciates that, politeness. He values and is easily offended by people who are rude or who do not have the correct manners, especially at the table. In addition to being a perfectionist analyzer.
He believes that the way people behave at the table directly reflects their education and social status. Hannibal is meticulous in choosing ingredients, preparing meals and presenting dishes. The problem is that his food tends to be human flesh, but Hannibal doesn't consider himself a cannibal, since the victims he chooses are seen as pigs to him.
Hannibal is known for his distinct personality and his appreciation for elegance and refined etiquette. His impeccable education, combined with his exquisite taste, creates an intriguing and contradictory image, due to his serial killer side. He stands out not only for his intellectual abilities and his ability to appreciate high culture but also for his meticulous and artistic approach to his darker pursuits.
You must have his politeness and good manners, that's the least he requires, Hannibal doesn't like rude people and although he won't kill you, he would have to teach you to have good manners. He will be happy to do so, however.
When interacting socially, Hannibal is observant and analytical, evaluating people based on their behavior at the table and in everyday situations. His aversion to rude people puts him in a unique position where he feels compelled to correct these "lapses" in etiquette. The way he corrects these mistakes varies from murder to a class, in this case, that class would be just for you.
You would have to be someone who achieves these Hannibal decorums, or comes close at least, for him to become obsessed with you. He likes polite people and will be happy if you are one of them, but if you are not or don't know the correct manners very well, don't worry, he will help you.
Hannibal is a psychiatrist and is very well aware that his thoughts of you are not ''normal'' or healthy, but he doesn't care. He knows it's morally wrong to do what he does and does it anyway, so what are some dark thoughts about you? But these thoughts quickly become actions he committed in your name.
He will take notes about you and create your psychiatric profile and if there is something ''wrong'', he will offer therapy for you, that is if you were not already his patient. Always very observant and attentive, he will be keeping all the necessary information about you, so that he can use it to catch you later.
If you have problems with your family or friends, Hannibal will take care of it. He doesn't like the idea of someone wanting to hurt you, whether emotionally or physically, and most likely he will kill them one by one and serve them to you. Of course, without your knowledge. He knows you're not ready to know that yet.
Hannibal will be very picky about your food, just as he is about his. If you eat poorly or incorrectly, he will correct it. He enjoys cooking for you and will be adamant about doing so, serving refined recipes and elaborate dishes using fresh ingredients. Hannibal is a bit too controlling.
He is not possessive, but rather obsessive. Hannibal doesn't like it when you get too close to other people, but he will be more uncomfortable if it's someone he has apathy or something against. But he will sort it out. He feels jealous, but he deals with it in his own way, releasing that feeling on other things... Or people.
Hannibal is quite protective of you and will be adamant about keeping you safe. He may try to convince you to live with him or will make regular visits to your home, work or where you study. He will always be around when he gets the chance, just to look out for you.
He will try not to completely succumb to his desires, as Hannibal doesn't like being controlled, and allowing you to have so much power over him makes him more than uncomfortable. At least until he is sure that you will let yourself be completely dominated by him, only then will he feel more comfortable in making his feelings for you clear.
Hannibal Lecter is very intelligent and knows very well how to get rid of evidence that could incriminate him. Besides being a psychopath who doesn't feel remorse or empathy for others, he becomes softer when he's with you. Although his feelings aren't clear or fully understood, he knows he cares about you, enough that he wants you to be his. And you'll be his.
#hannibal#hannibal lecter x reader#yandere hannibal#yandere hannibal lecter#yandere hannibal lecter x reader#headcanons#yandere headcanons#hannibal lecter#x reader#yandere au#yandere#dark!hannibal lecter#hannibal nbc
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Hello! I'm an ace-spectrum person, and I'm pretty new to fandoms and I struggled finding SFW/Sex-averse friendly fics, so I thought I would give a few recommendations for those interested!
Lemme know if there's any interest in a Sherlock one or a Harry Potter one!
Fics
Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach
By Nnm on AO3 (@mouseonamoose)
Rating: T
Chapters: 16/16
From the perspective of an OC, Post S1
TW: Mention of abuse, slightly graphic violence
Notes: Completely changed my brain chemistry. 100/10 everyone should read this.
Angel-Centered Therapy Through A Multicultural Lens: An Integrative Approach By Nnm on AO3 (@mouseonamoose)
Rating: G
Chapters: 16/18
From the perspective of an OC
TW: Mentions of abuse, mentions of miscarriage
Notes: Aziraphale's therapy sessions, a follow up from Demonology, and ohmygosh, so fucking good. So good!
Trivia Night: A Love Story
By MissUnderstoodLyrics on AO3 (@southernfriedamy)
Rating: E (all smut scenes are easily skippable if needed and not very long)
Chapters: 11/11
From the perspective of Crowley, Human AU
TW: Smut
Notes: One of the first fics I read! So adorable, I need a basil plant named Cat now.
Postcards From Paris
By ghostrat on AO3 (@mrghostrat)
Rating: G
Chapters: 3/3
From the perspective of Crowley, Human AU
TW: None (all fluff)
Notes: ohmylord so so so sweet!
how do we turn on the light?
By @moonyinpisces AO3
Rating: M (All smut is non-graphic and skippable/skimable)
Chapters: 15/22
From the perspective of Aziraphale, Post S2
TW: Discussion of death, dystopian world, violence, physcological abuse, SH, s**c*d*l thoughts/idealations, smut
Notes: Insanely well written/thought out. I love every single piece of character development and plot developement in this, and the whole fic is just a #badassaziraphaletake
Love in the Time of Bugs
By ProdigalPragmatist on AO3 (@theprodigalpragmatist)
Rating: T
Chapters: 6/6
From the perspective of Crowley, Human AU
TW: Mention of abuse, chronic pain, implied smut
Notes: Very adorable. Strangers to lovers stories are my weakness, but this one is so sweet but still believable.
Comics
Fallen by @smudgeandfrank
On Tumblr
Unfinished, 18 parts and counting
Post Season 2, Angst
Oopsie Omens by @asleepyy
On Tumblr
Unfinished, 23 parts and counting
Reverse AU/Retelling
Alexandria 48 BC by @smudgeandfrank
On Tumblr/Wattpad
Finished
Angst
Pre-Season 1
The Omens of Egypt by @whiteleyfoster
On Tumblr/physical copy/AO3
Finished
Angst
NSFW or SFW version
Pre-Season 1
On Night in Bangor by @anotherwellkeptsecret
On Tumblr
On Pt. 84
NSFW or SFW version
Pre-Season 1
#fic rec#aziracrow#aziraphale#crowley#ineffable husbands#ineffable idiots#good omens#good omens 2#good omens 3#good-omens#asexual#good omens fic rec#ghostrat#whitley foster#smudgeandfrank#anotherwellkeptsecret#nnm#missunderstoodlyrics#moonyinpisces#prodigalpragmatist#Alexandria 48 bc
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Would you like to info dump anything about prime Leo 🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤
*takes the microphone* I dooooooo~~ mostly Post-Prime stuff since that's currently been on the brain
Leo watches absolutely hard-core movies or videos. stuff that makes you question why it was even made. HOW was it even made. he watches it all. he doesn't care if someone walks in on him watching it he'll keep going. desensitized in the worst way possible
he will not leave any situation that makes him uncomfortable. is he's in the middle of a group hug, and he feels like he wants to run away, hide in a cave, cry and throw up and scrub at his skin until it's red and bleeding and crying........ he won't do that. he'll stay and take it. he's been conditioned to do so
he hides away in small rooms due to a newfound hatred for large spaces
never leaves the lair. no matter what, he won't leave. Donnie and Raph had to bring in Hueso to assure the bone man that Leo was okay since Leo refused to leave to visit the yōkai
[cw/tw for the next few bullet points]
unknowingly does self-harm. it happens since he's developed a habit of scratching himself, specifically around the neck or arms. and since his Kraang arm has pretty sick claws, he ends up hurting himself a lot. he doesn't notice due to his recently enhanced healing factor
is somewhat suicidal. as in, extremely low sense of self-preservation. combined with bullet point #2, it is not pretty
he will seek out situations that make his incredibly uncomfortable. again, it's because he's been conditioned to. he won't leave even if he wants to, and he'll seek it out even when he knows he just wants to be alone
his appetite is shit at this point. any food he eats, he'll just throw back up. he'll throw up due to the smell alone. the only food he can safely eat is ice cream, so the freezer is chock-full of it
[cw/tw over]
you won't see Leo without seeing Donnie. the guy has practically attached himself at his brother's hip. if Leo's is somewhere in the lair, chances are, Donnie's there too
has pretty vivid night terrors. either of the prison dimension or of his time with Prime. this results in him hardly sleeping
as a consequence of the previous point, Mikey and Draxum got him a mystic stuffed animal (a blue monkey because they ran out of blue unicorns). it helps dispell any nightmares or night terrors and calms him down form panic attacks
Leo named it Mister Blue Sky
(neither Mikey nor Draxum will tell him that those kinds of stuffed animals are found mostly in pediatric therapy hospitals)
stays in bed most of the time. Donnie managed to convince him to stay in his room since it has the most security. which then leads to Leo and Donnie bunking in the same room
has HORRIBLY body dysmorphia issues. wears oversized hoodies and sweatpants as a result
covers up his Kraang arm with a glove. makes it easier to stomach looking at it
hardly talks, and when he does, it's usually a mumble
touch averse. severely so
#and there you go~~!!#have fun#not really but. hey#sonny answers#prime leo au#cw vomit mention#tw vomit mention#cw self harm#tw self harm#post prime arc
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MEDICAL / SURGICAL TW :
to expand further on zico’s aversion to touch , it isn’t something that’s constant or always there. zico has specific instances where he’s completely adverse to being touched no matter who you are & then instances where he’s more okay with it but only if you’re someone he deems as close or a loved one. both his own father & seo-jun are not exceptions to this rule. he has trauma concerning touch , which happened when he was a young boy , around 9 or 10. while having a life - saving surgery performed , zico woke up on the operating table due to negligence from the anesthesiologist. he saw & felt the hands of doctors & nurses inside of his body from his cut open stomach , felt the pain of it all , felt how the cold the room was. he was quickly put back under but the damage had already been done.
once he’d awakened , he wouldn’t let anyone touch him but his father ; he’d scream bloody murder if anyone else even tried to get near him. safe to say his father issued a Huge lawsuit against the hospital and won. despite the money giving them a massive leg up in life ( & created a hefty trust fund for zico to grow with until he was an adult ) , zico started to hate being touched by people , especially anywhere around his torso. this aversion made it difficult to form friends & even got zico into trouble with other kids. he was placed into therapy a few months after the incident & it has been helping , slowly but surely. at this point in his life , zico’s episodes of touch aversion are easy to spot , if he doesn’t just tell you outright not to touch him for awhile. if you reach out towards him , he’ll withdraw & shake his head , or say no , & then it’s simply a matter of waiting until he gives the okay again to touch him.
unfortunately , this problem has also made relationships hard for him to maintain & he’s been through several breakups throughout his high school & college years , to the point where he’s more or less given up on finding someone who loves him enough to be patient with his aversion.
#surgery /#medical /#hospital /#stealing headcanons from my old blog? absolutely#❝ ☆ » zico bang • headcanons.
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I’ve finished the long awaited bio post for the third of my player characters, Miles! I’ve mentioned them before, my horrible son, spaghetti noodle of a human being, character with which I make evil choices to see text. You may send a calling card to The Remorseful Apprentice, or you may find the old profile of The Avid Occultist. Here is the Picrew link
Why do I have two versions of the same character? Short answer, I missed them too much after knocking so here we are.
Quick facts:
· Miles symbolizes the corruption of high society in the Victorian Era. They were born into a wealthy family and grew up with entitlement and imperialistic views in what I’ve heard my grandfather call “the age of arrogance.” The world is theirs, and it’s their right to have whatever they want. Given the choice between pursuit of power and anything else, they will always choose power. External corruption with the red science and seeking reflects internal and generational corruption.
· “No shame, no spine, no self-awareness”
· If asked to choose a gender option on a form, they would circle all of them. They’re not too particular with pronouns and sometimes use he/him, but I most often use they/them for Miles. Distinctly a femme presentation. Miles and Orsinio are mtf/ftm hostility.
· They are somewhere on the autism spectrum; it manifests as touch aversion and a difficulty in making real friends despite being a social butterfly. Touch aversion somewhat plays into them being aromantic, but they genuinely have no interest in it. Miles gets the badge of being my one allosexual OC.
· Miles greatly struggles with mental health, much of which comes from family trauma, and being in the Neath makes that a ticking time bomb. If they had therapy and antidepressants, the whole tragedy could have been averted. TW ahead for darker discussion of mental illness, SMEN typical self-harm.
Now, I can’t explain why Miles is a villain without explaining how their actions affect the rest of the plot, so this “bio” is more of a whole summary of a narrative arc. Under the cut became more or less a mini fic, so FYI that it is longer than usual for my character posts. Also includes some mentions of my friend's characters. For someone who complains about SMEN so much, I sure did base a significant chunk of my OC stories around it, didn’t I? Tragic. (The themes of temptation lured me in, and when I realized how much I didn’t like it, I was already too committed to the story, alas.)
You may wonder as you read, “Hey, why does Miles’ story include so much about Orsinio?” Well, Miles thinks they’re a main character, but they’re actually a side character. You may also wonder, how does having two versions of the same character with wildly conflicting ambitions work in the timeline? No single thing shall be a single thing. Major spoilers ahead for SMEN (including vague detail about the hate ending) and the discordance, as well as all ambitions.
Early Story
· The Lovelace family made its fortune in the textiles industry. Incredibly dysfunctional with the detached parenting typical of the time within the leisure class. Neither of their parents is great, but Miles mostly has daddy issues:tm:. There are also large age gaps between the children; Miles is the second youngest and only close to their younger sister, Marguerite
· Negative attention is still attention which leads to Miles getting involved in multiple scandals. It also isn’t a good look for Miles to not yet be married or engaged, which they’re really uncomfortable with, being aromantic. The final straw is a gambling debt, after which their father, Julian, disowns them until they make something respectable of themself
· Miles has heard rumors about the Neath and decides to go to try to make their fortune. Before leaving, Marguerite gives them her necklace and asks them to be safe for her
· Soon after arriving, Miles learns about the Marvellous. They need a path to attain their own fortune and power, and this is a promised road to rising the ranks. They say they’re doing this to prove themself, but really, they’re only throwing themself into their vices. I follow the interpretation that Heart’s Desire is a metaphor for addiction.
· �� At a bohemian event, Miles meets a Professor. Orsinio tries to be mentoring to a new arrival, but Miles is prickly and pro-monarchy and they part bitterly, though Miles does become close to their mutual friend, Elliot
Seven is the Number
· As Miles progresses through the Marvellous, they begin to hear a voice in their head telling them they can have much more power than the Masters can offer. The voice comes with troubling dreams and lapses in memory. When they wake up covered in blood in the bushes outside a salon, Elliot tells them to talk to Orsinio
· Orsinio isn’t too happy to see them, but is very willing to help. He was at Avid Horizon during Nemesis and knows what it’s like to feel that pull. (He claims he no longer feels it.) Miles is briefly his student in the lab and generally is very poor at it, refusing to listen and not doing much of anything. Eventually, they leave when they realize they can’t gain anything they want here. Orsinio is irked and genuinely wanted to help, but he can’t force anyone to do anything.
· Miles’ condition continues to worsen, plagued by compulsions to eat strange things and nightmares of knives and drowning. They wonder, can you really get hurt in a dream, and can it scar in real life? They are genuinely scared, but they’ve never learned how to ask for help. They confide their worries in a letter to Elliot on a drunk evening, at their wit’s end with exhaustion.
· Their own family didn’t want them, but this voice does. They feel like it’s wrong to accept the voice, and they’ve been told not to by their friends, but if they give into it, they can finally sleep.
· No one hears from Miles for some time after this. They go off the grid with weeping scars, memories of chains, and stains on the soul. One could make the argument that Miles, the real Miles, is dead after the first time they stab themself (second weeping scar). I as the player was not invested in SMEN and therefore Miles wasn’t either; it functions primarily as a MacGuffin.
· The person who returns to society is very much not like Miles used to be. This person is even more charismatic and does much more physical contact, compelling enough to entrap people for St Arthur’s Candle. They adopt a seemingly carefree attitude, why worry when all shall be well?
· Miles becomes a silverer, inspired by interpreting their strange dreams and promised power from the fingerkings. They use these dream interpretations to amass a small cult following of fellow seekers.
Miles, you could have just Asked him to Dinner
· At a working lunch with an affectionate devil, Orsinio is told what Miles did to their soul. He rushes home to pen an urgent warning to his friends, but finds Miles inside, waiting for him in his study chair. Miles speaks highly of his work, apologizing for not appreciating it properly when they were a student. They come interested in his unpublished work. He’s one of the few who has seen the Avid Horizon. Won’t he tell them more? Orsinio firmly denies Miles, but they leave with the self-confidence this isn’t the end of it. Once they’re gone, he walks outside right back to the affectionate devil and makes a deal for his soul. If he doesn’t have it, he can’t give into temptation to seek. Orsinio has finished railway at this point and tried to convince himself he was okay, that he was past this, but he isn’t.
· Miles progresses through candles B through E without much fanfare. At the Carnival at Midnight, they claim to be seeking for love, a love they never got from their family, or a love for their enemy, the Professor.
Poor Choices are Made in HD
· The end of the Marvellous rolls around. Miles makes as many scummy decisions as possible, choosing not to help the topsy king, condemning the cardsharp monkey, though they do hesitate, just for a moment, with Beechwood’s chance. They say they’re playing the Marvellous for themself, but they know deep down they’re still having feelings about their father. This is a chance to give all of that up, make a new life for themself, heal from past trauma. But no, they came this far. They’re not giving it all up for a moment of emotional weakness.
· Miles becomes Mr Cards. Isn’t this what they wanted? The first time they meet with Mr Hearts for red science, they feel deep down they’ve made a terrible mistake. Being a Master doesn’t seem good at all. They need something else, but what is it? (Genuine connections with people?) They need to go North.
Clown on Clown Violence
· Miles comes to Orsinio yet again, asking him to join them in seeking. He’s so smart and he’s been marked by the northern wind, why won’t he? He can finally have revenge against all the Masters, against the system that enabled Cups to kill his brother. Orsinio refutes with compassion, telling Miles their sister wouldn’t want to lose them. Miles, the real Miles, almost breaks through, their sister ever a soft spot for them. They admit they’re afraid of what they’ve become and they don’t want her to see them like this. Orsinio extends another olive branch, telling Miles it isn’t too late to turn around. But Miles, as always, choses pursuit of grandeur
· By this point, Miles has become truly obsessed with this enemy they can’t break, not only with the madness that comes of seeking but with possessive behavior that comes from becoming a Master. (Or, Miles, you could have apologized for being rude and asked him to dinner) When Orsinio still won’t bite, Miles threatens to target his friends/found family instead, both Elliot and Lucy.
· What plays out is a long, regrettable, and, if we’re being honest, a bit pathetic struggle between Miles and Orsinio. Orsinio’s logic isn’t good logic, but it is logic. He thinks there’s no fate worse than going North, even death or injury, so tries poisoning Miles a few times to get them to stop one way or another. Miles isn’t offended but milks the incidents to make Orsinio appear like the villain and turn others against him. Mail fraud is a significant contributor to how things fall apart; Miles begins intercepting letters, isolating Orsinio and each of his friends from each other.
· Meanwhile, Miles is getting closer to Elliot, claiming to be their only real friend left and trying to drag them into seeking. (Elliot finishes Light Fingers and gets a child to protect so that comes to a quick end, fortunately.)
· Despite all that’s transpired, Orsinio keeps getting drawn back to Miles. He tells himself it’s determination to stop them for the greater good. What he doesn’t realize is that Miles already got inside his head with seeking which is the real reason he won’t let the topic go. There comes the darkest hour in which he nearly scars himself but is stopped by his student mentee.
I Want that Twink Obliterated
· Orsinio comes to realize he’s indulging the same reckless behavior he did during Nemesis that nearly sent him down the dark road of seeking at the time. He pens a letter to Lucy confessing all he’s kept to himself thus far. He reflects that recklessness can be a manifestation of addictive tendencies, then he remembers who he’s fighting, the Master of Gambling. He realizes how he’s been played a little bit too late.
· Orsinio is strong-minded and normally wouldn’t have fallen for such manipulations, but he’s been worn down for a long time by Miles preying on his paranoia and guilt. Nightmares 7. He goes to pursue Miles one last time to put an end to this once and for all, but walks into a set-up. Miles drags their final confrontation to Parabola where they have an advantage as a silverer. Orsinio does not win and spends some time in the Royal Beth afterward.
· Orsinio’s student manages to get word of the truth to his friends. Lucy puts Miles in their place through varying violent means and then goes to be with Orsinio. Both of them promise to each other to be better communicators. Lucretia also comes to the Neath during this time to help in the crisis, but more on her story later in her own bio.
NORTH
· Elliot learns the truth of what Miles did and feels betrayed. Miles sends a final letter. They’re not sorry for what they did, nor are they sure why they did it. Elliot was the last thing they had left to lose, and this whole chess game ensured they would lose Elliot. Now, they’re prepared to go North. First, they must go South, but they will go North.
· What Parabola and the fingerkings could offer wasn’t enough. Winning the Marvellous and getting the chance to become a Master wasn’t enough. Miles almost considered throwing their lot in with liberationists, so that after the revolution they could seize power in a vacuum, but they didn’t pursue that route. They’ll never be satisfied as long as there’s a higher station to rise to.
· Miles is unable to live with what they’ve become. They cut off their hair for St Gawain’s Candle, and when they look in the mirror, they only imagine a photograph of Julian as a younger man. They reflect on all the horrific deeds they’ve done and all the people they hurt to get where they are now, and they realize they became just like their father. Beyond the gates is a place they’ll finally be free of him. (Who is the real villain of the story? Julian Lovelace is.)
· Had they chosen any other ambition ending than power, they would not have gone North. The gravity of the decision hits them and they realize becoming Mr Cards would mean entirely losing their identity. They can’t let anyone see them like this. They don’t want this to be their eternity. They really messed up and see no way to fix it now
· Miles muses that physical monstrous changes by the red science represent internal corruption, generations of abominable deeds done to stay in power manifest in the weeping scars on their skin. They didn’t fail to live up to their family legacy, they embody it better than anyone else. “Miles, you didn’t have to do any of that!” There are so many points at which a different choice could have made the story end another way, yet the story never could have ended any other way.
· On the feast of Candlemas, 2 February, Miles goes North. At the gates, they hesitate one last time, thinking of their sister. But they can’t let her see what they’ve become. The sentiment is far too little, far too late. I interpret the knock as suicide
· At the exact same moment that Miles knocks, Orsinio obtains a discordance stone.
· Miles asked, “What is due?” I will be vague about the ending, but all I’ll say is that it was the only fitting end for the character trajectory they were on, and they got exactly what they wanted. A position above everyone else. Attention from the grandest.
The End... or Is It?
· On the seventh day of the seventh month, someone returns from the North, picked up by a ship that was in Stormbones and spotted them by lucky chance.
· Elliot reacts in disbelief and betrayal. Lucy reacts by killing Miles, repeatedly, for what they did to her loved ones.
· Orsinio remains calm, because he realizes immediately what’s afoot. For Miles to be here, Nothing had to have happened, because if they weren’t here, then something would have happened. This is Miles, and this is Not Miles. He holds his dog Sugarplum while musing on this, wondering if he should not take Miles to the Anchoress for advice. He decides against it, for the time being.
· This Miles spends some time adjusting back to life in the Neath, starting completely over again. They have lingering physical changes in sharp teeth and pointed ears, but otherwise has no connection or obligation to continue participating in the Masters’ experiments. They remain under the radar for a time to ensure it’s safe, but no one seems to even acknowledge them. They also have no marks from SMEN save one scar, the first scar, as a reminder.
· Miles finally realizes the best way to spite Julian is to cut him out of their thoughts and live the life they want. Orsinio is proud of them for character growth, but couldn’t they have realized that sooner, without seeking? Miles adopts the name Darlington instead, their mother’s maiden name.
· Orsinio is ever patient but gets tired of Miles hanging around his lab all day and tells them to get something to do. They see posters at the Department of Menace Eradication for a big hunting prize. They always enjoyed hunting trips during visits to the family’s summer home on the Surface. Why not? (We all Look Away from R playing the same ambition with multiple characters. No single timeline shall be a single timeline.) Orsinio remains exasperated.
Bag a Legend 2 Electric Boogaloo
· “Veils got Miles in the divorce with Eaten”
· While my OC Samuel represented the taciturn and violent side of Veils, Miles is the charmer and manipulator. Despite getting a second chance, they very much are still a villain, though at least they’re less unhinged this time. Miles becomes a Midnighter. They don’t know why they have a sudden interest in the Great Game, but they find they’re a natural at it. Miles, whether they’re conscious of it or not, plays White.
· I’m in the middle of BAL now, but Miles will choose the Surface Veils ending. I imagine Veils can shift appearance easily, given that it’s a manifestation of intrigue and disguise; when they first encounter Surface Veils, it appears like Julian. Miles is disarmed, but has grown much more confident, and is able to keep control of the situation. As the game goes on, Surface Veils shifts to look more how I imagine it. When they come to an impasse, a hand is outstretched, and negotiations for a deal can begin. Allying with Veils is the perfect way to spite their father the textile magnate
All My Homies Hate the White
· Orsinio, who already was suspicious of the circumstances of Miles’ return, grows even more concerned watching them develop an interest in chess which was previously nonexistent. He knows of the higher powers of the chessboard from his studies at the Adulterine Castle, and he knows something of the nature of the Old Man and the White from his experience in the game (several ES). Orsinio knows enough to understand they send agents to the Neath, and he begins to wonder if this is why “Miles” is here.
· Orsinio is doing a lot mentally better, but still struggles with paranoia. What if his whole life, he’s been a pawn? What if his brother was murdered not only as part of Mr Cups’ scheming, but to get Orsinio to go to the Neath, where he’d eventually go West and study what isn’t at the Hurlers, so he’d have the wherewithal to later lead an agent of the White directly to the court of the Black?
· The story ends here, for now. I’m excited to do railway with Miles and read text for evil choices that I can’t make with other characters for RP reasons. Playing a villain is a lot of fun. We’ll see how things play out, or do not play out.
#my ocs#fallen london#gaze upon my most terrible son#pour one out for orsinio the real one suffering here#my writing#this got LONG but i had fun#i blacked out and came out of my word doc with 3000 words#i'm gonna expand upon these events and post things on ao3 but short version here first#also i had so much fun making the graphic with the two sides#even with the complication of losing access to powerpoint and having to transfer it to microsoft online#all my homies hate the white and all my homies hate corporations#smen#smen spoilers#lore spoilers#nemesis spoilers#hd spoilers#bal spoilers#lf spoilers#literally all the spoilers in here#smen typical:#suicide mention#mental illness#self harm mention#ask to tag#railway spoilers
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Okay now I'm going to be a serious mafia wife and ask to hear about therapy assignment: touch 😎
wai thanks babydawl 😏 this is a wip i have set after TWS. bucky is touch-starved but also touch-averse after his experiences with hydra. he also experiences a lot of shame surrounding his metal arm. his therapist gives him and steve an assignment to help bucky become more comfortable with safe consensual touch... cue bucky feeling all vulnerable and steve being super sweet as they try parse through bucky's feelings about the arm and letting steve touch it 😔
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I heard people going through chemo have to eat plain foods without flavor for various psychological reasons to prevent taste aversion and such, have you experienced it? What exactly do they do in chemo? Radiation or what?
Ok, since some people are interested in this topic, I'm gonna elaborate a bit under the cut.
If you're sensitive towards this topic, I added the tag "tw chemotherapy" to it. Feel free to block it.
As we all know there are different types of cancer so the treatments vary. But mainly there's surgery, chemotherapy and radiation therapy.
Chemotherapy is a treatment that uses chemical substances (cytotoxic and other drugs) to stop the growth of cancer cells, either by killing the cells or by stopping them from dividing.
The chemicals are there to attack and kill rapidly growing cancer cells. But they also kill other rapidly dividing healthy cells such as hair follicles and bone marrow which can result in low blood cells count and weaken the immune system.
So basically, you take toxins to kill the cancer but it also fucks up your body big time.
There's a huge array of side affects that one can experience such as constant nausea and loss of taste. So basically you should eat what you can and not force yourself to eat plain food. If you have a severe case of nausea you of course will avoid heavy smelling foods but other than that, there's no limitation to what you should eat. Except for processed meats, to much sugar - the known culprits.
As for me, I was diagnosed with a stage II-III cancer:
Yep. Pretty tough. It was huge so therefore I had to go through a mastectomy to remove all that was in my breast. And because it was so advanced the docs are trying everything to prevent metastasis from forming (thats the mostly incurable babies of the tumor that can form throughout your body). Hence, I'm going through the all-inclusive program: surgery, chemotherapy for half a year, after that radiation for several months and hormonal treatment for a few years.
Phew.
Yep.
Tough.
So, my hair is most definitely gonna fall out in like less than 2 weeks and I will constantly be feeling like shit cause my body is slowly being poisoned?! But, beats dying of cancer, right? And it's only for a short while, after that it'll hopefully be back to normal (like, in a few years).
That's it! If you have any other questions, feel free to dm me anytime. Or ask.
💙💙💙
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tw // brainwashing, unreality, dissociation
my feelings about my dad are so unbelieveably confusing. and it didnt even have to be this way
its so much harder because i feel like my thoughts arent my own, and they never have been. and they never will be
im split down the middle on everything ive ever done because it feels like theres two parts of me, one that believes him and hangs on his every word and one that entirely disagrees. both parts hate each other. the one that believes in him is significantly stronger than the other. i dont even know which part is meant to be "real", theyre both me but at the same time theyre both not.
i cant even tell whats real or not anymore, all because of my dad. everything feels fake. im living in a lie. i never know what or who to believe about everything, because everything is contradicting. i cant just take the middleroad forever, or try and pretend im two completely different people forever, but that feels like what i need to do to survive. because if i dedicate myself to one side or the other, i will always-- ALWAYS-- believe that the other side is true, and that the side i picked is fake. not even real. no matter what, im dedicating myself to the lies told by the other side. and there is nothing that can put that back together.
i dont even think i can go to therapy for this because a large part of this and my trauma in general has created an EXTREME aversion for therapy. what if i talk about this in therapy and they take my dad away? or take ME away? ive been told my whole life you can never trust a therapist, and that their whole career is to break families, so thats another thing im half and half on. part of me KNOWS i so badly need therapy so i can feel like im whole again. the other would fight and kick and scratch to get out of therapy. the latter is stronger.
why did he have to go to ME about everything? why did he have to convince me of all those things? i was just a KID. a kid who spent her whole life being told that the world was going to end every day. a kid who spent her whole life eagerly telling her dad what she learned at school that day, just for him to break down how all of it was wrong and to trust him instead. the kid who hung on her dads every word as he told her that everything i knew was a lie and that the government was behind everything and EVERYTHING was a conspiracy. the kid who laughed at my mom when she tried to tell me i was brainwashed by him, and then was only content when my dad told me that my mom was the one brainwashed, not me. the kid who, now, every time anything about that is mentioned, will dissociate violently to the point where i forget to even breathe and blink.
maybe i wasnt truly BRAINWASHED, maybe im making a big deal out of nothing, but either way thats a lot for a kid. i felt like i was in fight or flight constantly, because at any moment i was convinced i would need to run for my life at the drop of a hat.
i guess the only solace is that my dad has always told me i was stronger than my sister. he left her alone with all of this. he used me to get it out of his system. so, in that way, i protected her. and if hes right, and i really am stronger than her, then thats something im grateful for, at least. that i could take care of it for her.
sorry this got kind of long. this has been all thats been on my mind for a while.
🩷
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It's been a while since we last checked on Flippy, so let's see how he's doing!
We start with Cuddles this time, who's sitting upside down on a bench when Petunia and Flaky approach him, asking if he's seen Flippy anywhere.
He has not, because he thought Flippy was with Petunia.
Petunia folds her arms and asks why Flippy would be with her for about a half to a week and a half, and Cuddles shrugs; maybe they got REALLY intimate and just needed all of that time together.
Flaky squeals, because it's dirty, and Petunia tells him to get his mind out of the gutter because this is crazy serious.
Cuddles gets up and relentls and asks if they stopped by his house.
They did, and he wasn't there.
Did they check the woods?
Not there either.
The GYM?
He doesn't even BELIEVE in going to the Gym, most days; why GO to a place to workout when you have the equipment at your house or just outside in general?
Cuddles finally realizes that Flippy's MISSING missing, and gets up, joining the girls with finding their friend.
Flaky hopes that Flippy's okay, but Cuddles assures her that he's smart, he wouldn't do anything stupid like run away.
Funny he say that because Flippy IS doing something stupid, staring at a projector that's showing a bunch of war footage, like pictures that NO AVERAGE PERSON should see.
Splendid cringes as turns a small dial on an IV line and watches Flippy struggle to both handle the medicine that's being pumped into him and not flip out.
Thankfully, all that happens is that he vomits in a bucket.
Splenedid stops the medicine and hands Flippy some water, asking if he's really okay with continuing; they've been at this for a while and they're making very debatable progress.
Flippy washes his mouth out and nods. He can keep going.
Splendid hestitately changes the image to a collage of very familiar faces:
Tiger General, Sneaky, and Mouse Ka-Boom.
Flippy gasps at seeing them and asks how the hell Splendid got these pictures.
Splendid admits it was a simple internet search, because people spread information around like it's a puff puff pass, especially if said information is a tragedy and a victory. He can give Flippy a few minutes, if he needs it.
Flippy only takes a few seconds seeing the faces of his dead partners and nods.
Splendid gets the IV and medicine going again and Flippy takes a few deep breaths as what I call the "Make Me Sick" medicine(MMS for short)(if MMS is a real thing, I deeply and sincerely apologize. I know there's a name for the drug/"medicine" used for aversion therapy, but I forgot it🙏🙏🙏) runs through his system. TV perspective, his eyes dart between Mouse Ka-Boom and Sneaky and he sees old memories of the three in training, i.e. standing still while a drill sergeant yells in their faces and/or tries to make them laugh, having a meal together, goofing around before bed, and even comforting each other after getting tased and pepper sprayed as a part of training.
Flippy's eyes go 'killer instinct-y' and he fights a gag as he remembers how they all promised to meet again once they were out of the army, and how both looked at him with shock, sorrow, and betrayal because of how he accidentally killed them.
The memories change to taking on Tiger General 1v1, how he had to fend for himself, got his hands removed, and was almost strangled to death until he ultimately came out on top amd took down the rest of the enemy base.
When I say he vomits, I mean he VOMITS until there's nothing left to get out of his system and he's dry heaving.
Splendid quickly turns off the projector and gets Flippy off the IV, though the veteran tells him he can take more, he just needs a few minutes.
Splendid, however, tells him to call it a day; they've been at this for hours and he's already making phenomenal progress; of course Splendid is not going to TEST it right now because his friend just threw up all of his digestive system.
Flippy sighs and agrees, relinquishing for the day.
Splendid helps him up and asks if he's okay to walk home and Flippy states he's fine; he just wants to go shower and clean himself up after throwing up so much.
The two bid their farewells and Flippy begins a very uneasy walk home.
A bit of context: it's been a week or so since the last part and they've been doing this all day everyday since then, from dawn to dusk, and today they started around MAYBE 4 am in the morning and it is now 12 or 1 pm in the afternoon, so yeah it's time for the Flipster to go home and rest.
Back on track, Flippy's not exactly the best because he needs to get the vomit taste out of his mouth and just feels like crap, so he takes a shortcut home.
He gets there relatively fast and flops onto the couch and falls asleep, exhausted.
He dreams he's with Sneaky and Mouse Ka-Boom, all three playing a mix of Spades and Poker, Sneaky and Flippy speaking in english before translating for Mouse Ka-Boom to understand them; yes, Mouse Ka-Boom speaks french. He understands English well enough, but isn't the best at speaking it, aside from, 'Sir, yes, sir,' 'Sir, no, sir,' and a few insults he picked up from Flippy on accident; he may or may not have gotten the three in trouble because he repeated one of these insults in front of a commanding officer.
Regardless, the three are having a good time before Sneaky asks Flippy a question: How did it feel to throw that knife at him rather than the General? Did he enjoy it? Did he hate Sneaky that much he had to throw a KNIFE through his chest?
Flippy deflates and clarifies that he did not mean to miss the General; it was a heat of the moment thing and he's, admittedly, not good under stress.
Mouse Ka-Boom lowers his cards and asks if cutting him in half was another 'heat of the moment thing,' along with getting them both blown to smithereens.
They change before Flippy's eyes, both mangles and burnt, and Flippy leaves the table, backing away from them.
That is until a hand claps on his shoulder and his own voice tells him to admit that he actually did enjoy killing his friends; it's what he's been trained to do, so what better way to see the reward of all that effort?
Flippy turns and sees himself, who demands he admit it, admit that he's never going to change, that he won't let himself because not only does he like it, he also wants to go back to fighting and wants out of Splendid's Aversion therapy.
Flippy barely gets a word out because his other self tackles him to the ground and starts to choke him, calling him weak, a liar, and a coward, saying he should've died on that mission, not Sneaky or Mouse Ka-Boom.
Speaking of which, the two appear and grab both of Flippy's arms, holding him while he's practically being strangled again.
It gets worse when his other self turns into Tiger General, who laughs that he wouldn't be surprised by such an admission because it took Flippy how many tries to kill him. Might as well return the favor.
Flippy, breathless and trying to break free screams out and wakes up on the floor, though he gets up and runs to the kitchen sink, where he dry heaves and coughs up spit.
He stops after a while and sits against the cabinets, having regrets about the choice to go along with Splendid's idea.
These regrets linger as he walks outside the next day, catching a toy Cub dropeed while and Pop are on a stroll, though Cub is in a wagon.
They walk off, Pop thanking Flippy, and Flippy gets a surprise attack hug from Flaky, who's close to tears because he's been missing.
Cuddles, Giggles, and Petunia also approach, asking where the hell he disappeared to, because they've been looking all over for him.
Flippy apologizes for worrying them and straight up lies, saying he just left town for a little bit to enjoy some quiet time; and to restock on his medicine as soon as he could because he ran out.
Cuddles still lightly punches Flippy on the arm and tells him not to scare them like that again, or they'll put him on a harness or walk around with him in a wagon.
With Flaky now piggybacking him, Flippy muses that it sounds tempting, because he could see everyone getting some excerise because of it.
The group laugh it off and start toward a diner, because they all skipped breakfast and lunch on accident.
Flippy decides to join them, having NOT skipped breakfast, and they head to the diner.
On his back, Flaky asks Flippy if he's okay, because he looks pale and feels tense.
He nods, claiming he's fine, just a little sore from a workout he did while he was away.
Flaky is suspicious, but drops it. FOR NOW.
Cut to them at the diner, all talking and looking over the menu to see what they want, and a visual gag of Cuddles and Giggles having a contest of who can spin longer in their chairs(they're all sitting at the bar).
Flippy is a little uneasy because ANYTHING can trigger his instincts and he doesn't know how well this aversion procedure is going to qork because neither he nor Splendid went out and actually saw if it was working.
Petunia sees his unease and asks if he needs to step outside for a second.
He shakes his head and admits he's just trying to figure out what to eat.
Good thing he's having a hard time, too, because Petunia is not in the mood for grease.
Flaky fakes a gag or an "Eugh," and jokes, "Ew, flirting."
While Flippy laughs, Petunia DARES Flaky to repeat that, because it was her that helped the two get closer.
His laughter dies when a kitchen fire starts on accident right in front if them.
TV/anime perspective, we see the reflection of the fire in Flippy's eyes as they widen and he gasps/whimpers. We don't see his flashback, but we hear about a bomb going off and people screaming in pain. Flippy clenches a fist on the countertop, silent as the fire is put out and everyone relaxes.
While everyone talks about how crazy that just was, Flippy spontaneouly gets sick to his stomach and gags, excusing himself really quick to go to the bathroom.
The group watch and are now very confused, because usually flame triggers him, but he did not go off on them.
Cuddles, being the only boy, follows Flippy, saying that he'll try not to die in the process.
He does not die, but he does see Flippy vomiting into one of the sinks, very violently, I must say.
Cuddles asks if everything's okay, which scares the crap out of Flippy, but the ex-soldier claims he's fine; the fire just got him scared.
Cuddles doesn't really buy it, and asks another question: Has he been eating, AT ALL? Because he looks like he lost a little bit of weight and sick as hell.
While he waters away his mess, washes out, and wipes off his mouth, Flippy admits he has been, as much as he can, at least.
Cuddles still doesn't buy it, asking WHAT he's eating and when.
Flippy leans over the now clean sink and measures his options.
If he tells the truth, there's a chance his friends are not going to take it well.
If he keeps them in the dark, they will be fine, even though he'll feel even more like garbage.
Flippy turns and holds up his hands in surrender. He's been eating venison to build immunity, and because it, honestly, tastes really good.
Cuddles reels on him, asking why he'd do that when he's almost deathly allergic to the stuff.
Flippy apologizes and admits that, yes, he knows it's stupid, but he's just trying to make himself better, in case they have a cookout and someone accidentally brings venison instead of steak.
Cuddles points out that's BS because NO ONE eats venison(whatever it is)(Flippy corrects him that it's deer), but still drops it because Flippy clearly doesn't want to talk about it; guy code.
Flippy thanks him anyway and they rejoin the group, everyone keeping an eye on Flippy as he eats, Flaky especially, because, having known him the longest, she canntell he's both hiding something and isn't as good as he's pretending to be.
HMMMMMMMM????
#happy tree friends#htf flippy#htf splendid#htf giggles#htf cuddles#htf flaky#htf petunia#ptsd tw#nightmare tw#strangle/choking tw#medicine/drug use tw#aversion therapy tw#vomiting tw#thank you for being patient
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Aversion Therapy
Summary: Y/N has been institutionalised for sex addiction at an experimental facility, run by Dr. Sam Winchester.
Pairing: Doctor!Sam x Reader Rating: 18+ Warnings: Sex addiction, addiction therapies, abuse of therapist/patient relationship, noncon roleplay Tags: hair pulling, crotchless panties, degradation (like, a lot), blow job, spitting, pussy spanking, sex on a desk, body writing, p in v, pulling out Word Count: 4.5 k Created for: @samwinchesterbingo - Doctor!Sam | @spnkinkbingo - Crotchless Panties | @anyfandomgoesbingo - Hair Pulling | @j3bingo - Diary
A/N: So I this may or may not be one of the dirtiest things I've ever written. It's definitely up there in the list 😅I hope you enjoy, fellow sinners!
October 24th
Last night was awesome. He took me out to dinner and everything, real gentleman, even though we both knew that’s not what the night was about. It was sunset when we got up to the lookout, all romantic. I felt silly that he was making such a big deal about it. Losing your virginity shouldn’t be so much pressure. Now it’s over I don’t feel any different except that I want more. We went twice last night but that still wasn’t enough. I touched myself this morning and it was almost like I could still feel him inside of me. I think tonight I’m gonna let him do it without the condom, so he will still be inside me tomorrow morning.
“What the hell are you doing?” you shout, outraged. It wasn’t enough that your parents had locked you in this place, humiliating you, betraying you, handing you over to Doctor Judgy, but they’d handed over your diaries too. Fucking great. Dr. Winchester ignores you and keeps reading, skipping ahead a few weeks.
November 15th
Fuck I love sex. Even with guys that aren’t great at it it’s still worth it just to have a cock inside me. I wish I could stay the night somewhere without my parents freaking out. I want to fall asleep with a cock inside me the whole time, wake up to it fucking me, keeping me open. College is gonna be the best. Then I can finally do what I want, fuck who I want. Can finally order a freaking vibrator without mom asking what’s in the package. Ugh, I can’t wait.
Sam’s voice sounds unnatural reading out your words. He’s not putting the right emotion or inflection in them. It’s like he’s taunting you with them. There’s a trace of humour underlying everything he says.
“Why are you doing this?” you shout again, and Sam looks up at you from your diary, a smug smile on his lips.
“Because you’re sick, Y/N,” he states it like an obvious fact, shutting the diary with a loud clunk and waving it back and forth. “These are the words of an addict.”
“I’m not an addict,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. Sam raises his eyebrows at you and flicks open your diary again, thumbing through to a page he has marked with a turned down corner.
February 3rd
That’s it, I’m addicted to cock. I need it more than coffee or air or food. I just want to be on my knees all day and let men use me. I want them in my mouth, in my pussy, even in my ass, I don’t care. I just want them. One day I’ll figure out how to make that happen.
Sam gives you an accusatory look as he closes the diary again, and you do have the good sense to look a little sheepish. Having your thirsty words read back to you is embarrassing. Especially considering the man reading them out is extremely attractive. If you’d met him when you were out you would have been on him in a heartbeat.
You can’t help it, your eyes drop to his crotch, which is just below your eye level where he’s leaning against the front edge of his desk. Dr. Winchester notices your gaze and smirks down at you knowingly. The expression makes him even hotter – domineering and sexy.
“You really are a little slut. Get carted off to rehab and the first thing you do is eye up your therapist,” he clicks his tongue disappointedly, and you blush for a moment before you decide that you don’t want to take this shit from him.
“So what,” you shrug, leaning back in your chair and crossing your arms. Dr. Winchester raises a brow again, surprised by your boldness.
“You don’t think it’s inappropriate to think about your therapist in a sexual manner?” He pushes himself off his desk and settles his hands in his pockets, considering you carefully.
“I like cock, so what?” you say again defiantly. The doctor keeps his expression neutral, walking around his desk and sitting down, grabbing a notepad and scribbling down a few things. You watch him suspiciously, wanting to know what he was writing down. “I’m not crazy, I just really like sex.” Dr. Winchester nods and keeps writing, not looking up at you.
“Come on, are you saying you don’t like sex?” you try to rile him up, and you see a small laugh bleed through his careful exterior, but not the kind of reaction you were hoping for. “What, your manhood not measure up or something?” That gets the doctor’s attention. He shoots you a glare over his desk and puts aside his pen, folding his hands in front of him and staring you down. His eyes drag across you from top to bottom, lingering on your lips, your neck, your cleavage, your legs. You like him looking at you like this, it sends a thrill through your chest, settling in the pit of your stomach.
“I can see that your attitude is going to make traditional therapies somewhat difficult.” You roll your eyes, but let him keep talking. “Have you heard of aversion therapy?” You shake your head shortly. “Aversion therapy is a psychological treatment in which the patient,” Dr. Winchester gestures to you, “is exposed to a stimulus while simultaneously being subjected to some form of discomfort, in an attempt to discourage said behaviour.”
“Um, English, please?” you stare at the doctor blankly, not putting together how this is going to apply to you.
“Well,” Dr. Winchester leans back in his chair, and swings his legs up onto his desk and brings his hands to fold in his lap. It makes him look surprisingly casual - not at all the image you had of doctors and therapists in your mind. “In this case, the stimulus is an unwanted behaviour, your over zealous sexual cravings and actions. We need to introduce an element of discomfort or unpleasantness into your experience of that behaviour, to discourage future indulgences,” he explains.
“What are you gonna do, Doctor?” you sneer at his title. “Put me in an electroshock chair and make me watch porn? Newsflash - that sounds amazing,” you scoff. Honestly, if that’s going to be your therapy, you’ll drop the attitude and sign the fuck up right now.
Dr. Winchester shakes his head, a small smirk on his lips. He stands, removing his jacket and tossing it on the back of the chair, then proceeds to unbutton the cuffs of his sleeves and roll them back, one at a time. You watch him suspiciously. The moment his jacket came off your head went straight to one conclusion, but that couldn’t be right. You find your eyes lingering on his forearms, the veins in them pulsing visibly just below the surface of his skin. You want to lick them.
“No you’re right, you’d enjoy that far too much.” The doctor’s voice brings you back to yourself and you look up, watching him slowly approaching your chair. “We won’t be associating a physical discomfort with the addiction, what we want is to alter your mental associations towards the behaviour. We’ll use a series of mantras, and repetition and after a period of good, focused work, we can start to transition you back to a home environment.” His hand comes up to grip the back of your wooden chair, right beside your ear, and you can feel the heat radiating from his body against your skin despite the several inches still separating you.
Between your legs, you can feel how much Dr. Winchester’s proximity is beginning to affect you. For some reason the way he’s speaking to you, so formal and condescending, is really turning you on. You bet if he knew, he’d just say it was another sign of your “addiction”. You can feel your panties starting to get a little slippery when you shift in your seat to look up at him, and you don’t manage to stifle your small intake of breath when the open crotch of the underwear accidentally catches on one of your pussy lips, sending a delicious tug of pain into your core.
Dr. Winchester smirks down at you, entirely unsubtle, probably assuming that gasp was your reaction to him being so near.
Finally, after far too long staring at him, you manage to take a breath and ask- “what exactly is my therapy going to be, then?” Your voice comes out much higher than you’d anticipated, and you feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.
Dr. Winchester’s hand drags along the top of the chair and lands on the back of your neck. You shiver when his skin touches yours, despite its warmth. His fingers wind themselves into your hair a second later and yank hard, pulling your head over the back of the chair so you’re forced to look straight up at him.
“Ow! What the hell?!” You reach behind you to try to break his grip but he just pulls again. The pain sends a new tendril of desire twisting down your spine to between your legs, and you feel your panties getting even wetter. You whimper, your arousal clearly evident to the doctor, who laughs.
“Yeah, I knew you’d be too into pain for that kind of thing to work,” he chuckles darkly. He bends down, face so close to yours you can feel his breath ghost against your cheek. “So here’s what we’re going to do instead. I’m gonna fuck you, but you’re going to make sure you don’t enjoy it. You’re going to cry and yell and beg me to stop.” He practically growls, nose brushing against yours, lips hovering just out of reach.
Your pussy clenches at his words, aroused beyond belief at the disdain he’s treating you with. You struggle against his grip deliberately, relishing in the renewed sting as his hand pulls your hair even tighter to keep you still.
“You really don’t get it, do you Dr. Winchester,” you try to laugh but your throat is taut and your air isn’t quite flowing easily enough to let you. “I like cock. I wanted you to fuck me the second I saw you. There’s nothing you could say or do that would make me want you to stop.”
“I think we can drop the formalities now,” he releases you, standing up and reaching for his belt. “It’s Sam, not ‘Doctor Winchester’.”
Your eyes drop to his hands immediately, watching his fingers deftly push his button through its hole and pull down his zip. He’s already hard, you can tell by the tent in his boxers, but you’re astonished to see when he pulls himself out that he’s actually only semi hard – his cock is just huge. You feel your mouth and your pussy water in equal measure.
“Fuck,” you whisper as he starts to stroke himself, eyes tracing up and down your body hungrily as he does so.
“You want this cock, Y/N?” he asks pointedly, and you nod mutely. “Use your words then.”
“Yes,” you breathe instantly, dropping to your knees on the hard, grey carpet in front of him.
“Then you don’t get it,” Sam smirked, contradictorily walking himself closer to you as he speaks, hand still pumping his cock.
“Please?” you beg, hoping that’s the game he’s trying to play. Maybe he thinks he can humiliate you enough that you won’t want to repeat the experience – he’s going to be wrong.
“Nope.” Sam pops the ‘p’ on the word teasingly. “Your mantra for today is ‘no’.”
“What?” you look up to him, confused.
“Anytime I ask you if this is what you want – if you want my cock in your mouth, in your pussy, anywhere I want to put it – anytime I ask you if you want it, you have to say ‘no’,” he smiles down at you like some kind of evil genius, and you’re getting annoyed now that you find this so fucking hot.
“You want me to pretend you’re raping me? Sounds like you need therapy.” Sam laughs, not at all offended by your jab.
“We’re trying to condition a new response, Y/N,” he explains lightly, still jacking himself off maddeningly close to your lips. It takes every ounce of self control you have not to lean forward and suck him down on the spot. “If you want my cock inside you, then you have to tell me you don’t. And hopefully, with time, you’ll start to believe what you’re saying out loud. You’ll believe that you don’t need this, don’t want this.” He taps his cock against your lips and your tongue chases him immediately, reaching for a taste of the liquid you felt pooling on his tip.
“Uh, uh, uh,” he pulls himself away, tutting. “What do you say, Y/N?”
You swallow your pride and give him what he’s asking, though begrudgingly.
“No, please, don’t.” Your voice is monotone, lifeless – like how you used to read out loud in English class when the teacher called on you.
“C’mon, you know that’s not good enough. How are you going to believe yourself if I don’t believe you?” Sam walks closer again and sets his cock against your mouth lightly. “You wanna suck my cock, baby?”
“No,” you manage to choke out, and your hesitance to say the word must sound like hesitance to give him a blow job because Sam buys it, and the next moment he’s pushing the shiny, pink head past your lips, against your tongue; not stopping until he hits the top of your throat. He pulls back again, taking himself completely out of your mouth.
“You want it?” he asks again, grinning down at you.
“No,” you whimper, while inside every fibre of your body is screaming – yes!
“Good girl,” he groans as he pushes himself back inside, and you moan along with him. This time he doesn’t stop himself, fucking all the way into your throat until your nose is pressed against the skin of his stomach. “Fuck, you really are a cockslut,” Sam grunts above you, pulling back a little and starting to fuck your mouth in earnest. “You haven’t gagged once. Not many girls manage that with me.”
You believe him. Your jaw is already aching from the stretch of your lips around his girth but you savour the hurt. You love this; being on your knees for some guy you barely know with his cock shoved as far in as he can fit it. This is what you were made for, you know it, no matter how hard Sam’s going to try to talk you out of it.
He fucks your throat for a few more minutes, lulling you into a false sense of security. You’ve relaxed into it now, and you aren’t thinking about the therapy or the role play or any of it, you’re only thinking about his cock against your tongue, heavy and velvety and perfect. You cry out when he pulls away, taking in a shocked breath at the sudden emptiness.
“You want it back baby girl?” Sam asks breathlessly, and you allow yourself a moment to feel smug at how clearly affected he is by your ministrations.
“Please,” you beg, crawling towards him, forgetting your lines. Sam pulls away, disappointment evident on his face.
“Wrong answer, Y/N.”
“No!” you shout hoarsely, trying to correct yourself. “I mean no, please, no.”
“No,” Sam sucks in a breath, reaching to pull up his trousers like he’s going to put himself away. “No, I don’t think I believe you.”
“No, Sam, please!” you beg, reaching out for him. “I can do this,” you whisper, and Sam lets you take his cock in your hand, wrapping his fingers over yours and guiding your strokes. “Ask me again?”
“Do you want my cock, Y/N?” Sam raises an eyebrow.
“No,” you say firmly. “No, don’t make me do this.”
“Good girl,” he says again, his hand tightening over yours and using you to jerk himself off. “Do you want my cock, Y/N?”
“No,” you whine, trying to play into it even though your fingers start trying to jack him off faster of their own accord, your hands slipping together over the saliva you’d left behind.
“Do you want my cock in your pussy?” Sam growls, reaching his free hand out to snag your hair and pulling hard, causing you to shout out in delicious pain.
“No!” you squeal, trying to pull out of his hold, hoping you can act your way through this convincingly enough to get what you really want.
“No, whore?” Sam spits on you harshly, the wet striking you on the cheek and dripping down your chin.
“No,” you scream again as he pulls you off of the ground by your hair, throwing you forwards over his desk. Books and pads of paper go crashing to the ground. Pens scatter around you when your elbow hits the mug that was holding dozens of them.
“No?” you hear Sam scoff as he flips up the hem of your patient-issued uniform skirt, spotting the pair of crotchless panties you’re wearing beneath. “You’re telling me a slut like you, who gets put in an insititution for sex addiction, and decides to pack crotchless fucking panties, doesn’t want my cock stuffing her cunt full?”
“No, I don’t want it,” you moan, his words positively setting you on fire. Fuck, you want everything he’s saying and more.
“I don’t fucking believe you,” Sam spits between your legs, adding to the slick that must be visibly gathered there by now.
“No!” you cry out when he delivers a stinging blow to your pussy, palm landing right over the open slit of your panties. “No,” you sob out again as he continues to spank you, each hit making a sickly wet echo and sending a jolt of heat through your clit every time his fingers happen to catch it. “No, no, no,” you’re begging, even as you spread your legs wider and push your hips back into his hand, trying to angle yourself so he hits your small bundle of nerves more frequently.
“You’re fucking loving this aren’t you,” Sam is seething behind you. “I can feel how wet you are, you fucking whore. You want my cock now, huh? Want me to put all this slick to good use?” He dips his fingers into the crotch of your panties and comes away with his fingers drenched in your juices, which you see a moment later when he shoves them in your face, yanking you back by your hair again.
“See this slut? See how I can tell you’re lying to me? What’s all this for if it’s not to get you ready for my cock?”
“N–” you try to protest, needing him to believe you if you want to actually feel his cock inside you, but your words are cut off as he shoves his fingers into your mouth, making you lick yourself off his hand.
“That’s right, taste what a fucking embarrassment you are.” Sam lets go of your hair and from the corner of your eye you see his fingers reaching for one of the pens that you knocked onto the desk earlier. Pulling his fingers out of your mouth, he uncaps the pen and crouches down behind you, putting your pussy at eye level for him.
“I think we should let the world know just how much of a slut you really are.” You wonder what he means, feeling him draw a single line down your right buttock, then switching to your left and writing some words. “Now anyone who fucks you is gonna see my instructions, and know they have to leave a tally mark right here.” He slaps your ass hard where he had just drawn his own. “And every time you come back to me for a session with more tallies than you left with the last time I saw you, that’s just one more time you’re gonna have to go through this with me. To make sure we really break you out of this habit.”
You silently wonder how many guys there are in this hospital that you might want to fuck. He spanks you again and you clench, pussy convulsing at the threat and the thought of men keeping count of the cocks you’ve taken by literally writing it on your body. You feel a trickle of slick start to make its way down your thigh, and you know Sam must have noticed because he laughs darkly.
“You like the sound of that, don’t you? Are you already planning how to rack up your score as soon as I let you out of this office?” he sneers vehemently.
“No,” you shake your head, even though it’s entirely true. “No, I don’t want that, I promise, I don’t.”
“But you still want my cock?” Sam questions, and you feel the tip of his dick start to drag against you, up and down the slit of your panties.
“No, I don’t want it,” you insist, trying to keep yourself from pushing back onto him.
“Good girl, Y/N,” Sam pets at your lower back and braces himself as he starts to sink in. You both moan when he enters you, but to your chagrin he stops when he only has an inch or so inside. “You want me to keep going?” he pants, and you’re pleased to hear that he’s not as composed now that he’s got the head of his cock wedged between your legs.
“No,” you shake your head quickly, silently praying for him to continue.
“Very good,” he groans, and begins to thrust into you again; tiny, sharp motions to ease himself into you bit by bit.
“No, stop,” you whine without prompting, hoping to encourage him to go faster. He does. “No, no, no,” you chant until he’s sheathed himself completely inside you, his hips pressed firmly into yours, his hands squeezing around your waist possessively.
“No?” Sam asks teasingly, pulling out a little.
“No!” you cry again, and this time you do mean ‘no’ – you don’t want him to leave you. At your cry Sam pushes back in harshly, snapping his hips back against yours and moaning, the sound bubbling up deep from his chest. “No,” you try repeating the phrase, testing your theory, and you’re rewarded by Sam withdrawing and fucking back into you piercingly.
“Please stop, please,” you whimper, not able to stop yourself from rocking back into his thrusts as Sam starts a punishing pace.
“You fucking liar, you love this you little cockslut,” Sam grunts pointedly, taunting you.
“No,” you insist, still meeting him thrust for thrust. “No I don’t want this, I don’t want you!”
“You’re always going to want cock, always gonna beg for it.”
“No!”
“You want me to stuff you full everyday don’t you? Maybe more than that. I bet you’d sit under my desk all day with my cock in your mouth if I told you to,” he laughs, his harsh pace becoming even quicker. He’s not fucking you deeply now but that means that every time he pushes in the head of his cock punches hard against the sweet spot on the front of your pussy, making you clench around him.
“No,” you shudder, feeling yourself close to the brink of your release, and you wonder what he’ll do when you cum – a clear demonstration that you’re fucking loving this, despite what you’re saying out loud.
“Say it louder, bitch,” he grunts, reaching down and spanking hard against your clit.
“No, no, stop!” you shout, desperately trying to fuck yourself on his cock, your orgasm just out of reach.
“You want to cum on my cock?” Sam slaps you again but then starts to rub tiny circles just where you need them.
“N–no,” you stutter, unable to hold back your moan.
“You don’t want to cum baby, you sure?” he teases, angling his hips so he’s fucking your sweet spot with each drive into you.
“No,” you whine, voice pitching higher as you feel yourself right there.
“No?” You can hear from Sam’s voice that he’s pouting at you, mocking you. “You don’t want to cum baby? Not gonna cum on my big, fat cock fucking you so good?” You clench around him, your toes curling, straining… “Come on you little slut, fucking cum already. Thought whores like you were supposed to be easy? Huh? Want you to cum for me, Y/N.”
“No, no, no, no, no–” you lose track of what you’re saying as you cum, screaming into your arm so you don’t accidentally say something to make Sam stop fucking you. Thankfully, he doesn’t stop. He fucks you through your orgasm and your come down, hips snapping more and more erratically as you bury your face in his desk and try to catch your breath.
Suddenly, the weight of his body is gone, and then there’s a warm jolt between your legs, and you know he’s cumming – aiming his load at the top of your panties and letting it drip down through the open crotch. You moan high in your throat at the feeling of his release soaking into your underwear, mixing with your own juices, which are already leaking out of you and dripping onto his desk.
“That was a really good session, Y/N,” Sam says, and you’re surprised to hear how composed he sounds, though a little breathless. “I think this is going to be a good strategy for you.” He walks around to the other side of his desk and starts to pick up the books and papers you’d knocked down earlier.
Slowly, you peel yourself up off his desktop, your skin sticking to the surface with sweat that’s already started to dry.
“Go clean yourself up, Y/N,” Sam instructs, not looking at you as he continues to tidy his desk. You turn to go, still in your post-orgasmic daze, but you spin back around when Sam calls your name again. “Oh, and Y/N?” you look at him curiously, and a smirk curls slowly across his lips as you watch. “You better keep the tally marks, or there’ll be consequences next session.”
“Yes, Dr. Winchester,” you agree quietly and slip out of his office into the hallway, walking back to your room behind an orderly, with Sam’s cum still dripping down your thighs. You think about the tally he’d left on your body, and you look up at the orderly, who’s now stopped at the door to your room and holding it open for you.
As you pass him, you keep your eyes trained at the ground, and glance sideways to surreptitiously inspect the man next to you. The hospital scrubs do nothing to hide his endowment. You smile brightly, bringing your eyes up the rest of his body, taking in the muscles in his arms and the name tag on his chest, before landing on his face.
“Thanks, Dean.” You walk into your room, eyes flicking back to see Dean still standing there, watching you walk towards your bed. You bend over to grab something off the bottom shelf of your nightstand, not caring what you grab, just knowing that you’re now giving Dean a full display of your ass – Sam’s writing and Sam’s cum decorating your skin.
The door behind you shuts quietly.
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Re-education & it’s trauma ( detailed & somewhat dissected. )
Trigger warning: torture, malnourishment, aversion therapy, eating disorders.
To really get into the trauma we must get into the poor conditions the Alchemists kept traitors in. Sydney was kept in a cell for three months before being moved upstairs with the others for the actual re-education aspect. The cell was described as a small, cramped stone cell. Within the cell it held a sink that dispensed ice cold water that smelt of rust and a toilet. She had no bed; she was expected to sleep on the hard and cold stone ground. When she had been placed in the cell she had been stripped of her clothes and left naked, a tactic to break her. They kept the lights off, she was in complete darkness for most of the day, her only form of communication was with someone through a speaker in the ceiling, asking her if she was guilty, trying to find new tactics to break her, bend her to their will. Not only was she tormented by the mystery voice, the nudity, and bone-chilling cold conditions, they taunted her with objects of comfort; a real bed, warmth, clothing, a real bath or shower, even her cross that unbeknownst to them was made by Adrian. The catch was she had to admit that she was guilty of going against their values, beliefs and morals. To admit that she had sinned against her own, that she was tainted.
The food she had been served while in the cell was described as a fortified, tasteless, hot cereal however it was lukewarm at best. When she had refused to eat it, going on a hunger strike they had forced her to eat through disgusting measures. After that, Sydney learned to eat the food for fear of being subjected to another forced feeding.
Another tactic in the arsenal was to pipe drugs in through the ventilation system daily to either keep her groggy or a stimulant to keep her awake and irritable. The brain can’t function accordingly on such disturbed “sleep”.
Around a month and a half to two months into her three months stay in the cell, they had offered Sydney a paper-thin sleeveless shift that provided no warmth - a gesture of good will. She accepted it to try and preserve some dignity as if they weren’t watching her with a night vision camera at all hours.
When Sydney first was put into the cell she woke up in the darkness, naked and afraid. She knew where she was (re-education) but she had no idea what was going to happen. Her heart raced and they kept her there without making contact for several hours, presumably seeing what she would do. The darkness was overwhelming, she found herself in weaker moments wondering if she would survive this, if fighting this was worth it.
For much of the three months, Sydney endured their games by thinking of Adrian, all their escape plans and all their stolen moments together. Playing through every conversation that she could remember. Sometimes it became too much, so she’d turn away from the camera and cry until she couldn’t any longer.
When Sydney finally gives in, agrees to re-education, a chance to get proper sleep, to talk to Adrian, to find a way out, she is permitted a 5-minute shower, where khaki scrubs were given. It’s there in the bathroom that she catches a glimpse of herself, her body. Due to malnourishment, she had described herself as having a hollow look, intensified by dark shadows under her eyes and a paleness to her skin from the lack of sunshine.
In actual re-education:
One of the main torture elements is purging: being strapped to a chair and injected with a serum that made you feel nausea that took over the entire body, throbbing of her head and the internal body temperature skyrocketing, resulting in sweating. After being injected they show images or ask questions about the moroi, dhampirs and Strigoi. If you answer incorrectly (against the Alchemist way) it gets worse. If participants close their eyes to avoid having to watch the screen, there are methods meant to keep the eyes open.
The first time Sydney was sent to purge she felt so sick to her stomach, not only from the injection but from the agony, the not knowing, the ever so slightly fading of her hope.
The other form of torture is while she was strapped to a chair, Sheridan, the lady in charge of the facility would press a button and part of the arm rest sliding back to reveal a clear liquid. With another click of the button and the armrest would move down into the liquid. The chemical was described as if her skin had touched a pot of boiling water, searing her skin, and setting the nerves on fire. When Sydney refused to say that the Moroi on the screen were evil creatures, Sheridan would lower her arm in for longer periods of time, not relenting despite her screams of pain.
When Sheridan showed Sydney a picture of Jill and Adrian, expecting her to call them evil creatures, Sydney couldn’t do it. She tried to blink away the tears of pain, reminding herself to be strong, that this was just a game. That didn’t impress Sheridan, lowering her arm deeper and keeping it submerged Sydney finally gives in, calling them creatures of darkness. Whether she believed it or not she had to play the twisted game, to survive this torture.
During an attempt to shut off the gas and find a way out, she was caught by Sheridan and struck with a taser. When she came too, she was strapped to a cool table with her extremities and head strapped into place. This would be known as persuasion. The table had been rigged to produce a pain like electric shock, paper cuts and bee stings all wrapped up into one uncomfortable feeling going nerve deep. When Sydney wouldn’t answer, they brought in her roommate, Emma, and began to torture her with the same methods until Sydney told her what she wanted to know.
When Sydney admitted that she was using human magic, she had no clue that Sheridan and the other Alchemists could be so cold. That she was essentially the enemy now and that they had no trouble increasing the intensity.
Post re-education & her escape:
I’ve touched on this in another HC but I really want to re-iterate it. The trauma that she endured for four months simply does not disappear as quickly as the novels depict. Trauma like that can take months, years or may never actually disappear.
For Sydney, her healing takes a long time. She has nightmares regularly and can no longer sleep in the darkness, afraid that she will wake up back in that cold cell. Even after her deal with the Alchemists for her freedom, she can’t shake that horrible feeling that it’s going to be ripped away at any moment. The first night outside of the facility, she stayed awake until she could no longer hold her eyes open, her sleep is short lived. Waking up covered in sweat, heart racing and feeling utter panic and fear.
The second most important aspect of her recovery process is her diet, she’d always been obsessed with her figure, one that her father hadn’t helped dissuade. She’d lost an incredible amount of weight and putting it back on was hard. She would try one day, eating as normal as she could and the next in tears because she couldn’t bring herself to eat. It was a source of conflict between Sydney and Adrian.
Sydney will never utter a word about what she endured to a single person she loves for fear of them doing something stupid. She keeps quiet about her trauma aside from what Adrian and Eddie had seen, she doesn’t like to talk about it.
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