#medical elements

[marksmarkers93]

Guyyysss I'm making comics again omg I haven't done that since my stranger things hyperfixationnm heheheh

Lil fic below

Anyway chapter one of Sonicpoly! Au : The ark

Shadow could not stand the incessant beeping from the machines around him. All he ever heard was those god damned beeps from the machines monitoring him. Monitoring statistics and data that never changed. A whole year of constant and rigorous tests with the same answers back to back and you'd think they'd get a hint.

And yet here he sat anyway. Another routine test.

Doctor Robotnik was on the other side of the room, reading over the data, making notes and humming a song under his breath as he went. A picture of content. Shadow wished he could have that contentment while he went through his tests but he was restless. Always on edge while on his own with the Doctors and scientists. Part of him wished he were back in his tank. Floating mindlessly while they monitored him. But the other part of him didn't want to be locked away from Maria again.

It was used as a punishment now. If he acted out he got put in his tank and wasn't allowed to see Maria. Or more accurately she wasn't allowed to see him. Shadow sighed at the thought alone. It wasn't worth it.

So he said and waited and fought the pounding headache that was growing because of that horrible beeping.

His ear flicked, picking up the sound of footsteps. Not uncommon but these ones sounded different. Boots, military personnel, but also the quiet thumping pad of paws paired with the jangle of chains? He looked towards the doorway and watched.

"Keep walking" the man said above the sound of the chains clinking as..as something that looked like him walked in front? Shadows eyes widened. What- no, who was that? Was that another subject like Shadow? How come he didn't know about them? His eyes ran across the fleeting form quickly trying to memorise everything.

One thing stood out the most. Their face. It was miserable..

"Shadow." Doctor robotniks voice scared him, his pulse jumping as he snapped his head back to look up at the doctor in front of him.

"Yes doctor?" He said meekly, respectfully.

"Your tests are done for today. You may go." He motioned with his hand.

"Of course doctor.." shadow said as he started to unplug himself from the equipment. Slowly and methodically. His mind was racing. He had so many questions. Doctor Robotnik didn't mention anything about another ultimate lifeform? He would have to talk to Maria about it.

Maria. His thoughts shifted to his best friend, his sister. A small smile graced his face as he finished up plugging himself and tidying up the cables before skating out of the lab and down the hall towards his sister. The thoughts of the other subject pushed to the back of his mind for now.

[witchofthesouls]

I love the "humans into Cybertronians" trope, so we should have more work about the weirdness that's humanity, especially as an animal, and how it translates into their Cybertronian frame.

I mean, Earth is very much a Death Planet/Space Australia goes really well with the "Unicron is Earth" subplot. Might as well lean really into it.

Like tolerance to toxins and disease, so it's not just a wider range of possible substances to consume but even capable of figuring out how to prepare toxic ingredients into edible dishes that won't kill other Cybertronians as well as greater resistance towards certain pathogens as infectious disease a massive driving force when it comes to evolution. I think it would be fascinating to explore the effects of the genetic mutations transferring over, like how the very genes that increased survival with bubonic plague (Black Death) is capable of withstanding of the Cybertronian-equivalent, Rust Plague or Cosmic Rust. Funny enough, those mutations that allow that resistance to plague are also associated with developing autoimmune diseases such as Crohn's disease and rheumatoid arthritis.

So now, more potential storylines for disabilities and how they're perceived between humans and Cybertronians, especially how each side approaches it.

Transformation capabilities are incredibly important to them. It's deeply entwined in their cultural/societal framework, so a cyberformed!human with no T-cog is the disability to them.

Look at the massive difference between Ultra Magnus losing a hand versus Starscream and Bumblebee losing their T-cogs; physical disabilities have workarounds or even straight-up fixes as long there are enough resources (Breakdown's eyepatch and Ultra Magnus' claw).

It doesn't matter the training or capabilities. Agent Fowler's military record and June Darby's medical experience would be considered secondary as they're severely handicapped and more vulnerable compared to them. Then there are other angles to utilize of the biological and cultural differences, especially with the popular fandom idea of sparklings and canon Functionism, so would it really be a huge surprise if those cyberformed!humans were coddled or infantilized since humans barely last a single year in a Cybertronian lifetime? That has to be beyond frustrating on so many levels.

And vice versa, like imagine a humanized Megatron gets taken out by celiac disease or being severely lactose intolerant?

[serpentface]

may i have the 10 wholly unasked for paragraphs of semen retention belief lore please 🙏

Ok

MEDICAL MODEL:

The philosophical core of Wardi medical model revolves around the universe’s primal dualism- it exists in between the extremes of Sea (cold wet dark female) and Sky (hot dry bright male). These forces are sterile and stagnant when separate, God emerged at their interacting boundaries as their synthesis, capable of creation. Life itself required God’s sacrifice of Its living spirit and the shedding of Its blood, which rendered sterile earth fertile and inhabitable and kicked of the perpetual death-rebirth flow of living spirit that maintains all life. The body is a reflection of this primordial state- it is maintained by the flow of living spirit (contained in the blood), and its core matter is an interactive mixture of primordial Hot Sky and Cold Sea, Warm in balance, with male and female physically differentiated by the presence of primordial extremes- the male has Hot testes, the female has Cold womb, the interaction of these extremes allow for creation.

(I promise this will have to do with semen retention eventually.)

Blood is understood as carrying the body’s living spirit, the animating force whose proper flow maintains life and health by balancing the body’s primordial extremes. Semen is a type of blood, given Hot nature by its isolation in the testes, and also carries the living spirit. It functions as the active seed of the living spirit. It is the Hot element planted in the Cold of the womb, the mingling of these forces allow for creation, and insemination with living spirit creates a living body that can host an immortal soul. (Wardi belief describes two souls- a living spirit that animates and maintains the body and an immortal soul that houses the mind).

Male gender designation revolves almost entirely around the testes, the Hot extreme of the body where semen is (assumed to be) produced and stored. In addition to its procreative functions, the testes are an organ whose function is to masculinize and strengthen the rest of the body. Each organ requires the proper flow of healthy blood/living spirit to function properly, and thus loss of this living spirit must be performed with great care- bloodletting in offering is highly controlled, bloodletting in medicine is carefully selected and done in accordance with balancing procedure. Since testes are regulated specifically by the living spirit in semen, semen should not be discharged with reckless abandon.

SOCIAL SEXUAL NORMS:

Cultural ideals for sexual behavior revolve around moderation and self-restraint. Sexuality itself is not demonized. There is nothing wrong with nonprocreative/nonmaritial sex in of itself (unless it is adultery on the part of a woman (male adultery is ostensibly bad too but is rarely treated as gravely), or a girl losing virginity prior to marriage, or it violates a litany of gender-sexual norms), but sexual RESTRAINT is an expectation.

Having an active but controlled libido is idealized, particularly in men. A man who is an absolute paragon of ideal masculinity has a libido, but is not ruled by it. He does not masturbate and rather seeks a partner for sexual release. He usually has a wife for this, and otherwise is capable of the patience and restraint to attain a quality sexual partner rather than finding the easiest release out of desperation. His partners are suitable to proper male interest, being good looking women or pretty beardless youths (going for 'unseemly' women or older, masculine men (so long as one performs the penetrative role) is not wholly unacceptable but suggests desperation and a weak control of libido).

This is an IDEAL and not strictly enforced- very few people will think you’re a weak failure of a man for jerking off sometimes or bragging about fucking some random tail, and hiring sex workers is entirely normalized (and will only be condemned if deemed notably ‘excessive’ and disruptive to a normal patriarchal role, or truly symptomatic of being unable to get laid without paying for it). Rather, if someone is already identified as a weak or effeminate man, ‘excessive libido’ may be cited as a cause or symptom, or rhetoric to criticize them.

THE SEMEN RETENTION:

Encouragement of semen retention/regulation stems out of both of these forces. Proper masculine social/sexual behavior encourages a limitation to discharge of semen, and medical thought deems it necessary for physical masculinization. A man who does not 'excessively' lose semen via an uncontrolled libido is thought to be physically more masculine- it is assumed to directly make the testes larger since they are Storing More Cum, but also to deepen the voice, assist in the growth and maintenance of the beard, and generally enhance strength, mental acuity, and vitality. Men are regarded as innately physically and mentally stronger than women, with the medical model slapped on as one of the means of explaining patriarchal norms (in addition to spiritual concerns of pollution and metaphysical vulnerability). Regulating semen is one of many behaviors that allows a man to stay this way.

This is also an element in why 'effeminacy' in men is linked to hypersexualization- there is an assumption that men who are physically or behaviorally non-masculine have exaggerated, uncontrolled libidos. Effeminancy or ‘softness’ in men is a failure to perform a wide set of behaviors and not strictly an accusation of receiving penetrative sex, but this is often an element- a man who receives is presumed so desperate and out of control of his libido that he will submit to debasement and shame for fulfillment (an un-masculine man who cannot be a penetrative partner could at least retain his dignity by having enough self-control to abstain entirely).

Some scholars, high ranking warriors, and politicians will (at least claim to) be functionally celibate and refrain from all discharge of semen in order to function at peak performance. This total abstinence is rare and NOT culturally mandated, and is often looked on with a little snide derision as a tryhard performance. More commonly, men will attempt to live a life with a controlled libido, and may temporarily abstain from sexual activity leading up to situations that require physical and mental acuity (combat, debate, sport, etc).

Of most concern to the average day to day person is accidental loss through nocturnal emission. While this is harmless every once in a while, it is cause for concern if it occurs frequently- your body is discharging part of its living spirit completely outside of your control, you are directly weakened by this and you don’t want this happening on a regular basis. Recurrent, frequent episodes may indicate polluted blood, or outright inhabitation by evil spirits.

The only level on which semen retention tends to be actively, directly enforced is with children. Teenage boys are typically discouraged from masturbating (especially during the early stages of puberty)- retention of semen masculinizes the body, therefore will contribute to a healthy and normative puberty and should be preserved at this vulnerable time. It is considered normal to chastise and punish a pubescent boy for masturbation. This is seen as preventing him from harming his health, and to teach him to regulate desire and exercise self control, one of many facets of shaping a boy into a proper man during this critical time. This norm does not contribute to children developing lingering psychological issues AT ALL.

Wardi traditional medicine is a holistic methodology of spiritual/physical treatment, using a base system of items (foods, animal parts, herbs, metals, stones) with Hot or Cold properties and individual Essences to manage imbalances in the body and it's blood/spirit flow and dispel evil spirits. This medical system (and related subdivisions of folk medicine) is commonly used to treat nocturnal emissions, and may also be used to lower libido and/or discourage teenage masturbation. These are largely medicines with Cold properties and noted anaphrodisiac Essence. Eels are a big one- given that eels, obviously, are sexless and emerge from river mud, their bodies are anaphrodisiacs and consumption of eel meat/eel based tinctures can lower libido (this should be done with caution, as it also lowers fertility in humans and animals). Medicines may be directly applied to the penis, this does not interfere with the intended function of the testes but subdues excess lust. Phallic amulets are worn regardless of gender and have holistic nonsexual protective properties, but may also help defend against nocturnal emission. Other medicines are worn in sachets that are tied around the hips during sleep, often weighted with lead. In very severe cases (mostly associated with other dysfunction), the penis or testes may be infected with polluted blood and should be bled.

---

Tangent: If the Wardi community had reddit you would occasionally see threads like "DAE eat their semen after masturbating so you don't actually lose any?" and most responses would be "no wtf" but there would be a decent number of people going "omg yes I thought I was the only one" "I mean that's kind of weird but I guess it makes sense if you really think about it" and then one very angry commenter ranting about how, No, eating your semen DOES NOT suffice as mitigation of the loss, this is why so many boys are SOFT AND EFFEMINATE these days, the men of old NEVER jacked off and NEVER ate their own cum and had MUCH FULLER BEARDS AND LARGER TESTICLES.

[victimeyez]

The Dollhouse

Chapter 28 of Professional//Victim

Tommy is paralyzed for his client, and begins his role as a doll.

CW: Captive whumpee, intimate whumper, drugged whump, dehumanization, "willing" whumpee, medical whump, medical torture, doll whumpee, doll fetishization, desecration of remains, and strong horror elements.

~

Dae-Ho opened the door with a warm smile and eyes filled with excitement. Tommy recognized him from the brief video chat they’d had over Caius’s phone. 

“Tommy, Caius, Sam! You came! Please, please come inside!” He ushered them in like family long since seen. Stepping into the foyer, Tommy took a quick moment to take in the place. The lobby more resembled the waiting room of a spa, designed to be warm and calming. A wax heater perfumed the air with some scent, clean and slightly sweet. A fountain feature built into the far wall made for an exquisite accent, incorporating rustic slabs of warm-toned river stones with a little waterfall trickling through merrily. It was carefully fashioned to appear naturalistic, leaning away from a cool cement design that could bring to mind cemetery features. 

Neatly aligned chairs and couches were offered for anyone waiting, furbished with a soft tan hide and cushy padding tight enough to still offer support. An enormous persian rug carpeted most of the room, light and clean with dark blue accents to help balance the warmer tones. There was an office attached, and a small counter crafted to still appear open and welcoming. A soundscape of soothing nature sounds permeated quietly, accompanied by string instrumentals light enough to calm but not depress, 

I could never afford to die here, Tommy thought. There was a distinct feeling he always got when they visited the ritzy places many of his clientele inhabited. Truly, it was almost the same that he felt in his life before. As an impoverished punk in ill-fitting thrift store clothing, whenever he visited anywhere that displayed a modicum of wealth, he got a distinct feeling of being alien and misplaced. I don’t belong here. He knew it, and everyone else did, too. He did his best to act otherwise, but he simply couldn’t hold his space the way people experienced with luxury could. Especially now, deprived as he was within his meager living space. Even the rest of Caius’s house felt too fancy for his worth. 

If Dae-Ho judged him, he did not show it. His eyes twinkled excitedly behind his horn-rimmed glasses, kind and inviting. He was exquisitely dressed in a fitted black suit, with subtle paisley dyed slightly darker in a shadow-like effect. In lieu of a tie, he wore a well tied cravat of magenta with a matching pink and white pocket square. He wore shiny saddle shoes with shiny magenta laces. If he had donned a top hat and a cane, it would not have looked out of place. 

“Tea or coffee for you gentleman?” Dae-Ho swept a hand towards a stand beside the desk, laden with various coffee and tea accoutrements. 

“Coffee sounds good,” Sam suggested. 

“I wouldn’t turn down an earl grey, if you have it. Would you like anything yourself, Dae-Ho? Tommy would be happy to serve you,” Caius asked, his customer service voice in full force. Dae-Ho smiled and waved his hand easily. 

“Nonsense! You are all my guests, I am excited to have new additions to the tea party. I make everything for it myself, though dinner tonight will be catered so we can maximize our time together. If you’d accompany me to the mortuary, I have a sanitized space available where you can prepare Tommy.” Dae-Ho took Tommy’s hand in his and squeezed lightly, giving Tommy a giddy look as if they were sharing a private joke. He led them back down a couple hallways, followed closely by Caius and Sam. 

There was an electronic keypad Dae-Ho unlocked to enter the lab, and he held the door for Caius and Sam without letting go of Tommy’s hand. His grip was oddly gentle, his hands a little damp, the only indication he might be nervous. The flooring inside was a black and white tile dotted with intermittent drains, with a wall of morgue drawers along the back. There was a main slab in the middle of the room, but it resembled an adjustable hospital bed more than a classic metal autopsy table. No railings, allowing for easy access, but it was padded and covered in a shiny laminate for cleanliness. Other rolling racks and trays were stored neatly to one side. Sam whistled, looking around appreciatively, as if being shown some kind of pornography for custom labs. There was an acrid smell to the room here though, a far cry from the melted wax scents in the foyer.

“I have something special for you, Tommy. I had it tailored to you, per those measurements Caius sent,” Dae-Hold told him, dropping his hand to go collect his gift from one of the cabinets. Tommy wasn’t aware of any measurements Caius had sent him, but he knew Sam occasionally took his body measurements when he lost weight. Dae-Ho came back with a long and thin gift box, wrapped and tied thoughtfully with a silky red ribbon. The bow it culminated in looked complicated, and he hesitated to touch it when Dae-Ho set it on the slab before him. 

He had been trying to read Dae-Ho since they met eyes at the door. There were plenty of things he could surmise about him from the state of the manor, the decoration, and his personal sense of style. It was interesting how he was treating them like friends, dropping the formal pretense of a business transaction in spite of his careful state of dress. Tommy had anticipated being regarded as a doll from the very start, not that Dae-Ho would acknowledge him and act so fondly. He had asked Tommy to say hello to him over the phone, but Tommy had dismissed it as a kind of wind-up doll desire. Pull the string to hear what your dolly has to say!

What he couldn’t tell yet was Dae-Ho’s intentions. His joy and hospitality felt very genuine, regardless of the circumstances. 

You know this, you just can’t quite put your finger on it. What does a doll have to offer?

“Tommy?” Dae-Ho prompted, when the gift wasn’t readily accepted.

A doll offers…

The coin dropped. He remembered then, something he had already forgotten that he knew.

A doll offers companionship. He wants a companion. One without needs, one that never disagrees or dislikes the things he likes. Companionship without the emotional risk of genuine human connection. 

A people pleaser. Specifically, a Dae-Ho pleaser. I can do this. I can be this doll. 

Tommy shifted gears abruptly to accommodate, straightening his posture and smiling brightly. Dao-Ho flinched in surprise, but Tommy was tuning in. 

“Wow, this is beautiful Dae-Ho! You are so thoughtful. I’m afraid to open it, it already looks so nice, I don’t even know where to start,” he gushed, touching the sides of the box reverently. He tipped his head down slightly to look up at him through his eyelashes, giving a shy but flirtatious smile. Dae-Ho’s eyes immediately widened, giving him a broad grin back, even taking a step closer as if Tommy had magnetized him. 

“The pleasure is all mine, I wanted you to have it. Would you like help opening it?���

“Yes please,” Tommy said, giving him a little embarrassed smile. Dae-Ho’s eyes gleamed manically, and he tugged on one end of the ribbon, drawing it slowly to watch it unfurl. 

When he lifted the lid, Tommy got a look inside. It took a second to make sense of what he was looking at, but after his experience with all the strappy nightmares Caius put him in, this one was easy to figure out. Unfolded, it was a thickly braided wire armature with leather straps attached to buckle it on. It was shaped a little like a stick figure with no head. He could make the leap without an explanation - this would buckle like a body harness onto him, with a wire skeleton that they could use to pose him. He tested a wire braid with his hands, and it was pretty strong, but still bendable by hand with some force. 

Tommy felt nauseous looking at it. He’d known he would be paralyzed, but this felt grotesque. The threat of impending helplessness made the little color he had drain from his face. 

“You’ll be the best dolly,” Dae-Ho reassured him. Tommy kept his forced smile, but he held it with a grim resolve.

“Thank you Dae-Ho, this is very special.” 

He numbly followed orders to strip, and stand there naked, his arms and legs held away from his body as the armature was attached. The wire at the top had a smaller ring that attached the metal spine through his collar. He supposed it was easier to get it on before he was paralyzed, but once it was on, he was out of time to remain autonomous. Stiffened now with the armature in place, Dae-Ho generously helped him onto the table. As he laid down, he felt as if he was resting his head in the cradle of a guillotine. When Sam lined up a tray of shots and leaned over him, Tommy imagined the rope in his gloved hands, ready to cut it and get the session started in earnest. 

“What I’m going to be administering today is a series of pain blocks at the base of each limb. These are localized anesthetics that will prevent any sensation at all throughout each appendage, until it starts to fade after about seven hours. He also will be unable to move the limbs at all. I had one of these done when I got surgery on my arm – I had to hold my arm in my other hand when I walked for the rest of the day, otherwise it would start swinging like dead meat from my shoulder.” 

Dae-Ho laughed like Sam was telling a joke. 

“The only parts he’ll be able to feel, or have any muscle control, will be from here-” Sam drew imaginary lines with his finger over where Tommy’s thigh connected to his groin over to the base of his hip, severing his legs completely.

“-to here.” He drew lines from the base of each of Tommy’s shoulders down through his armpits.

“Ah…” Dae-Ho flanked Tommy’s other side and reached out to touch him, stroking an appreciative hand down his chest to his stomach. 

“So smooth,” he complimented. 

A gentle hand like that could have been something Tommy enjoyed, but under the circumstances, it revolted him. Dae-Ho’s hand stopped just above his groin and he held Tommy’s hip instead.

“Will he still be able to feel pleasure?” 

Tommy’s stomach churned. Sam looked slightly put off, as if disgusted by the idea. Like he hadn’t unloaded down Tommy’s throat the night before. 

“Yes, he should still be able to feel…everything. Like that.”

“Good,” Dae-Ho breathed. He reached up to touch Tommy’s lips, tracing them with a finger. As part of his “dollification”, Caius had used a lip stain on him that made them look pinker and plumper. He’d even glued on false lashes, delicately curled to give him a more doll-like appearance. The final touch had been the colored contacts, wide emerald irises on top of his natural greens.

“I have a few rules for you, so I need you to listen closely, okay?” Dae-Ho reached up to tap his own ear, as if instructing a toddler. The top of the wire armature was uncomfortable against the back of his skull under where Tommy was laying. He nodded. 

“One - dolls are always happy.” Dae-Ho smiled and pointed to the corners of his mouth. Tommy answered by mirroring his smile in a mirthless mask. 

“Good! Two, dolls do not speak. If Dae-Ho wants you to speak, Dae-Ho will tell you.” Dae-Ho pointed to himself, as if it was not clear, even when slipping into third-person. Tommy nodded. It would be a nice break from trying to guess what the right things to say were, at least.

“Three, dolls do not cry. Dolls are happy to be with Dae-Ho, dolls do not speak and complain, and dolls do not cry. Okay?” 

Hadn’t he just been thinking about that? It was eerie. He definitely hadn’t said anything about it to Dae-Ho, and wracking his brain, he couldn’t recall Caius saying anything about it. They hadn’t discussed it in the short video call. 

Sometimes he did this with Caius, when he would say something and Caius would look at him like he’d just read his mind. I was just thinking that! Are you having one of your little psychic moments, Tommy? He would ask playfully. 

Psychic - as if. If he was, he would have run before Caius could take him. Maybe he wouldn’t have agreed to finally go to church with Mom, for just one Sunday. If he hadn't gone, he never would have met Caius’s mother. He never would have met Caius. And sure, cancelling would have disappointed Ma, but that wouldn’t have been any change of pace. 

“I’ll go start the tea. When I come back - we follow the rules, okay?” Tommy gave Dae-Ho a mechanical nod, and he breezed out. 

Tommy counted ceiling tiles while Sam cleaned a spot by his hip with an alcohol wipe. He hated needles. He didn’t usually go weak at the knees about them anymore, not after all the hundreds of injections they’d put him through over the years. Vaccines, antibiotics, scar treatments, anesthetics, muscle relaxants, steroids, cocktails Sam cooked up and didn’t even tell him what he was being injected with. Not to mention, more stitches than he could count. 

He remembered, suddenly, something he hadn’t thought about in a long time. His piercer, back home, a lifetime ago. She worked out of a tattoo parlor with no name, just the generic TATTOOS sign on the side of an old road in a bad part of town. His bad part of town. But she was gentle, as gentle as one could be with a needle, and he knew because he’d gotten other piercings elsewhere. 

Anika was tall, making him feel especially small when she stood before him as he sat on the edge of the tattoo table. She was so pretty, with all her piercings, her voice deep and sweet. He’d liked her short hair, but her new braids looked good too, loose strands framing her face with the rest swept into a high messy bun. He liked the way she laid her baby hairs, in tiny little curls around her hairline.

“Alright, don’t forget to breathe. Quick pinch. Breathe in…” Tommy took a slow breath in, and the needle slid through the shell of his ear. She quickly slid the piercing into place, leaving it in as she retracted the piercing needle. “-aaaaand breathe out. Good boy, you always take it like a champ.” His heart fluttered a little in his chest, the way she said it. 

Words like that were different nowadays. Maybe that’s why Caius chose him. Saw his hopeless need to please somehow, and decided to make Tommy please him. 

Sam pushed the needle into his shoulder. Breathe in, Anika said, an echo from years ago. He breathed in, slow. The numbness started to streak down his arm immediately, and Sam pulled the needle out. Breathe out…good boy, Tommy, she complimented. It didn’t matter that she never called him Tommy, when he knew her. It didn’t matter that she never even remembered his name. 

She talked him through each injection, comforting even as Sam worked with clinical austerity. Tommy focused on his hands, making them into fists, relax, fists, relax. Curling his toes, uncurl, curl, uncurl. Until they felt weaker, and weaker, and numb, until he couldn’t feel them at all. Like they’d been amputated, no signal at all that they were even there.

The best he could do was wiggle a little by tensing his stomach. His limbs, the bulk of his bodyweight, were suddenly dead weights, fleshy anchors he couldn’t unbind. This wasn’t just being tied up - he was completely imprisoned in his body. 

Tears welled in his eyes before he could stop it. It felt like the contacts might actually help a little as he blinked them back, trying to compose himself. Sam returned to his side, holding a steel water bottle. 

“Open,” he coaxed, twisting the lid off. Tommy did, but Sam pinched his nose anyway, pouring the water into his mouth. At least, he’d expected water, but there was a kind of chemical taste to it, something sweet. He swallowed it to keep from choking, but when Sam pulled the bottle back, a pink trickle dribbled down the side. 

Bastard, Tommy swore internally. He should have guessed Sam was drugging him when he waited until Tommy was unable to move to have him drink. Caius pulled a tissue from his bag and dabbed around Tommy’s lips.

Completely unable to move, no matter what happened, for the next seven or so hours. Fed aphrodisiacs, while he couldn’t fight back, while he couldn’t attempt to cover himself. The helpless feeling suddenly became overwhelming, and a few tears overflowed, even as he struggled to hold them back. 

“Oh dear. It’s alright, little one, be brave for me,” Caius cooed. He ran a hand softly over Tommy’s belly, soothing him with a gentle touch. In spite of everything, it helped. He wiped the tears away with the tissue.

“Is it scary?”

Tommy’s throat was too thick to speak. He managed a nod. Caius gave him a look of sympathy, more than Tommy would have expected after his demands. Sam’s face reflected his similar bewilderment.

“This won’t be so bad. He just wants to play with you, he doesn’t have any plans to hurt you. You can eat and drink, he really does have a tea party planned. We will be with you in case you need anything. Did you have fun at the aquarium?”

“Yes,” Tommy croaked, and then cleared his throat. “Yes, I did, thank you, it was beautiful. I had a lot of fun.” Less hoarse this time, and the leaking from his eyes was quickly subsiding.

Caius did a little more shuffling in his bag, and his touch returned to Tommy’s face with a powder brush, covering up the pink on his nose and the red around his eyes. “I had fun with you, too,” Caius admitted, and something about it brought a funny smile back to Tommy’s face. 

Deep breaths. You can do this. You don’t even have to talk. Play dolls with him. Just…babysitting.

Definitely not babysitting, another part of him reminded cruelly. He wanted to know if you can feel pleasure, they drugged you with the aphrodisiac. You’re going to spend the day as the perfect unwilling fuck doll and there’s nothing you can do about it. Tommy tried to shove those thoughts to the side in order to keep his newfound composure. 

Sam pinched and poked his arms to test the numbness. It might as well have been done to someone else, for the amount of sensation Tommy got from it. When Dae-Ho came back, his gaze on Tommy was hungry.

“Let’s get you dressed up again, shall we?”

The armature harness had replaced the fashion harness part of the outfit that he had chosen, but Dae-Ho pulled his stack of clothes from the counter where Tommy had folded them.

Trying to bend the armature to make his limbs follow was unsuccesful. After some fussing, Dae-Ho realized he could bend it much easier by manipulating Tommy’s limbs themselves, letting his weight help apply force to bend them the way he wanted. The wire was strong enough then to hold him in place. Dae-Ho posed him a few times for fun, and then used it to bend his limbs in positions that made dressing him easier. 

“I should use these for all my bodies!” Dae-Ho exclaimed, a little breathy from the effort. Tommy had been dressed by Caius and a few others before, when he was unable - or unwilling - to dress himself. Not in the things some of the clients wanted, especially at the beginning. Tommy knew better than to fight back much anymore, though he had just made his little stand in the car earlier.  

When he was dressed again, in his blousy white dress shirt and black latex pants and matching bowtie, Dae-Ho laced him into a pair of saddle shoes with spats. He was settled into a wheelchair, lowered in with practiced ease by Dae-Ho. He was deceptively strong underneath his fine suit. Tommy was wheeled to the stairs then, Caius and Sam trailing behind, and stopped at a stair lift waiting at the bottom. He’d only ever seen them in commercials before, of elderly people smiling as they buckled themselves into the seat to be pulled up the stairs on a motorized track. He could see it installed up the wall, rounded off at the corners to go up the stairs, turn onto the landing, and continue up the next flight that changed direction. 

Dae-Ho turned to Sam. 

“Doctor, will you please help me move it onto the lift?” Sam had a pinch in his forehead, but after a hesitant look to Caius, he agreed. Not being able to feel or move his limbs was uncomfortable to Tommy - any part of him that wasn’t supported hung limply down, and he couldn’t help at all. As he was settled into the chair and buckled in, his arms bent awkwardly in front of him. Sam moved his hands into his lap, and one immediately fell off, dangling strangely. The best he could do was attempt to sit up and back to move his arms back in, but they were nothing more than warm dead anchors hanging from his shoulder. He also couldn’t adjust his hips to sit up, so he hung uselessly in his harness. 

With the press of a button, the chair let out a grinding sound and started to advance up the wall. At the corner, he heard his ankle bash the wall, but he couldn’t feel it at all. The helpless feeling was significantly worse than when he was bound and he could strain against his bindings - this was more intimate, more violating, the way it robbed him of the little autonomy he had left. 

The machine went slower than walking speed, so the others met him again at the top after passing him. Dae-Ho already had another wheelchair ready, and he flopped haphazardly in with a push. The acrid smell had grown sharper, turning sour and musty, though the upstairs appeared clean and brightly lit. Caius wrinkled his nose slightly, struggling to be polite, but Sam gave a look of open disgust. 

Tommy was wheeled into a lavish dining room, made up as the pinnacle of a lavish art-deco design. It felt like it belonged in a scene from The Great Gatsby. The center of the room was dominated by a round table - and the rest of the company had already found their places. Dolls were seated around the table, some propped up in chairs, others in wheelchairs like Tommy. They were of varying sizes, some child-size while others appeared as tall as Caius. There were a variety of designs among them - some very simple, others far more realistic. One had clearly been a scarecrow, a few were just mannequins, and a couple of halloween prop dummies with plastic heads and hands. One seat held a long body pillow with a pillowcase featuring an anime girl posed in a vulnerable way, blushing. 

There was a gigantic Barbie and Ken, their placid smiles unsettling at such a size. Next to them sat what looked like a crash test dummy that had been badly painted, the mouth too low on the face, the eyes too far apart. A large green power ranger plushie had a spot, as well as a plastic Optimus Prime that stood up stiffly in his chair. One seemed to be an evil clown animatronic, another one a human-sized plushie blue tiger.

 Tommy preferred that to the ones that were obviously sex dolls, made with an attempt at realism that was undermined by their soulless faces and cartoonish proportions. Most of the dolls were dressed in roaring 20’s outfits, but the sex dolls wore skimpy club wear that highlighted their enormous plastic breasts and tiny waists. Other more detailed mannequins had closer to human proportions, all slightly different shapes and sizes, but their plastic faces were identical - one face for all the “women”, and another for the “men”. Their eyes were sunken, but more lifelike in color and size, the glossy glass orbs taking on a wet look. Wigs, flapper dresses, patterned suits, and fake eyelashes abound. 

Dae-Ho’s seat was obvious, as an empty throne of garish gold. He had a sex doll immediately to the left, and wheeled Tommy into an empty spot to the right. Caius and Sam took to a couch on the side, away from the table. 

“You all get to know each other a bit, and I’ll be back with everything for the tea party,” Dae-Ho addressed his inanimate guests, and left the room.

The smell was strong, though if Dae-Ho noticed, he didn’t mind. As soon as he left, Sam started searching the room. 

“We’re not casing the joint, you know,” Caius mused, as Sam made his way around the edge of the room. 

“It smells like - something, I can’t put my finger on it, but it reeks in here,” Sam explained, opening the drawers of a wardrobe. He sniffed over one, made a face, and started to rummage through. 

“We are directly above his embalming room, you’re probably smelling something from that,” Caius pointed out, but they all knew the smell had been fainter in the lab below. Sam ignored him, moving on to another drawer.

“Hey,” Caius said sharply, and both Tommy and Sam jumped. Well, as much as Tommy could jump. 

“We are guests here. Stop touching his things, put everything back exactly the way it was, and sit. Down.” Caius hissed, and it sent Sam quickly packing everything back in. It felt a little like a mother reigning in her boys, though Tommy sat dutifully in his place at the table - not that he could do anything else. 

“Just let me look at the dolls,” Sam mustered, passing the couch to inspect them. Caius sighed.

“If he comes back and sees you, he very well might invite you to the table. And if he does - you will sit down at that table and shut your mouth, so help me god.”

Sam sniffed around the circle, but he mostly just seemed curious about the dolls. He poked the animatronic in the eyes, and posed the Optimus Prime with his little hands on the table. When he got to a sex doll, he squeezed her breasts, giving a mischievous smile to Caius. 

“Jealous?” He waggled his eyebrows up and down goofily. Caius rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at the corner of his thin lips. 

“Hardly. If you want some big silicon tits, I know a doctor who might be able to help.” 

Sam twiddled with the swollen boobs. “They even have nipples.”

“Of course, how else would she breast feed?” Caius said dryly, but he was enjoying his boyfriend’s antics a bit. 

Sam reached the mannequin beside Tommy, and pulled it back to sit upright so he could take a closer look. 

“These ones have like - I think these are real human replacement eyes, like if you lose an eye? Do they use those on bodies?”

“No, much worse, they put these little hooked pieces inside to keep the eyelids closed,” Caius supplied helpfully. Sam and Tommy made the same face at the same time in response to the information. 

“I knew a doll fucker, this guy Pete. Had a whole ‘harem’ of the things, even had a wedding ceremony with at least one of them. I almost went, just to see, but there wasn’t an open bar and the ceremony was supposed to be like two hours long. But he was collecting these mannequins that they used in a couple high end places in France or something, they were super articulated and rare. These might be those types, or something like it.” Sam squeezed one of the arms. 

“What do you bet all of these have a fleshlight installed? I bet even Optimus over there is rocking something.” Sam pulled the wig hair back to get a better look, and made a face. 

“Oh, shit, this thing stinks. I hope we don’t have a-” Sam stopped suddenly, freezing in place.

“Don’t,” Tommy whispered.

Sam pressed something behind the ear, palpating it with his fingers before switching to picking at it with his fingernails. 

“Sam don’t-”

Sam tugged shortly, and then slower, drawing out an enormous metal pin that had been hidden inside the head. The awful smell grew much more intense, and a foul brown liquid dripped down the side of the doll’s face from where the pin had been pulled. 

Why Sam couldn’t leave it be, Tommy would never know. But when Sam pushed the wig away from the hole to see, the doll’s head shifted and opened like a clam, the face swinging open and away, clicking lightly when it hit the hinge behind the other ear. Plastic blond ringlets fell in the way as Sam let go, but they couldn’t cover enough of what was inside. 

The face underneath was leathery and shiny, with glass-like cracking in areas. All the shellac in the world couldn’t keep a body from rotting. The false eyes were glued over blackened sockets, obtrusive and bulging. Her lips were painted on poorly, closer resembling a beak, and the thin shell of preservative was the only thing shaping the nose, which seemed to have liquified underneath. 

The smell was putrid and overwhelming, and both Tommy and Sam turned away to retch. Sam crossed the room away from it, leaving Tommy dry heaving beside the body. 

With a horrified realization, Tommy looked up and counted the other dolls with the sunken, human eyes. Six total, hunched over in wheelchairs around the table. Sam was swearing, but Caius stepped up beside Tommy to look, holding a hand over his lower face. 

Doing a once over of the "doll", Caius sighed.

"Damn."

~

Taglist:

@suspicious-whumping-egg  @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @whumpyourdamnpears @generic-whumperz @lonesome--hunter

@whumplr-reader @theelvishcowgirl @sunshiline-writes @dont-be-gentle-please @galesgallery

@2in1whump @sparrowsage @apokolyps @whumpinggrounds

@morning-star-whump @leviiio @alexmundaythrufriday @defire @jumpywhumpywriter

@light-me-on-pyre @slightlydisturbedbeans @dislexiher @knivestothroats @paperprinxe

@watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

Thank you all so much for reading!!!

[flowersandbirdsflyingfree]

Behold: A Comfort Character Bingo Board

[demonir]

Imagine a tf2 game of red Kumamons vs blue Kumamons.

So like... you put this idea in my head so really this is your fault that it exists

However I had way too much fun drawing this so I'll take full responsibility and let you off easy 👍

btw can you tell that I suck at drawing bears?

[ionlypostmymeemocs]

Characters that I want to make Medics out of.

[the-meme-monarch]

ok sorry i didn’t go insane over emesis blue like i thought I would but it is making me scared irl now. i can’t turn over in bed bc what if there’s a severed head positioned like it’s peaking around the doorframe. what if i look over and The Butcher is there

[artificise]

"Becoming a member of the High Court instructs its acolytes in many fields," Artificer spoke, the blue holographic screen projected from her wristband tearing every so often with pixelated hiccups; coaxing a small hum from the woman as she typed. The illuminated keyboard accenting the hologram let out soft beeping sounds with every type; clearly another document that she would put either into the backlog to finish later. "I'm well equipped for medical checkups, as Seeker is currently below."

"You remember the basics, yes?" the Artificer spoke, voice characteristically flat as the display disappeared, but carrying a certain warmth and gentleness with each word spoken- better to talk him through it step by step rather than rush it and possibly scare him; considering the power he retained in his body, such an incident would be nothing short of catastrophic.

As Viend took a few moments to think, elongated clawed fingers tapping against smooth hollow metal before he hummed, the woman let out a relieved exhale. "I promise you that the procedures haven't changed much since the days of the Contact Light- though, I would like to be more thorough to understand your bodily composition after your.. unfortunate, affliction. If you feel uncomfortable at any point, do not hesitate to let me know."

"【Mm.」"

"Then, we should start slow."

Opening a drawer and retrieving a stethoscope-like device, the Artificer connected the auxiliary to her helmet port before placing the flat side upon Viend's chest; pale brows etching underneath her visage at the lack of sound; further gliding across his chest; ridged and scarred in places where his armor had welded to his flesh and become one with his form, only proved a further lack of results in her search.

"Are.. you breathing, at all?"

"『...can??t. Lungs- don'?t wor??k.】"

"...Interesting.."

The subtle sounds of shifting were clear, showing that her medical device had not broken, and yet.. the repetitive deep thump of a consistent heartbeat remained ever elusive, and any sign of breathing was absent.

Within his chest cavity was.. nothing, but silence.

[birdie-needs-a-name]

For the @womenincomicsminibang, to go with @themyscirah's fic Howl!

[artist-kreating-stuff]

“We’re either going to save the galaxy… or we’re going to die trying.

Either way, we’re gonna have fun.”

- Team Death Wish

My brain: “Stop drawing ideas for your fanfic and actually write something for it.”

Me: “B-but… OC plot ideas?”

This takes place in my Beyblade Burst/Ninjago Elemental Masters AU. The basic idea: Clone Medic Kix is woken up from his cryo chamber by a couple of kids who heard there was a war going on in a galaxy far far away and wanted to help. Now he’s back to doing what he used to do: trying to keep wannabe heroes with a death wish alive.

They try to have fun.

(This is my first time drawing a clone trooper - how did I do?)

Bonus (I forgot Eli’s freckles):

[astraxa-xx]

Does anyone know a fanfic story where the MC(reader) is a medical student working under Suguru and he brought her onto one of his cases and Gojo was pissed about it. But then the MC and Gojo start to get closer, which pissed off Suguru for some reason. The MC also failed some exam that Nanami was teaching and Gojo offered to teach her on how to remember the facts and whatnot. There's also some basketball fundraising competition happening in the series which caused the MC and Gojo to practice basketball tgt. I don't remember much of the story but if anyone can find it, that would be great! Thank you and have a nice day/night. 💜

[gideonisms]

I'm so. I hate knowing that limiting movement, tasks that require brainpower, sights, and sounds for a few days will make my random fatigue nausea loss of appetite brain fog difficulty following long blocks of information headaches nosebleeds and heart palpitations improve by a lot mysteriously but doing all that is so BORING. Every week my body says I will kill us both if you do literally anything this weekend and every time I am like but what if it's different this time

[silvr-skreen]

This will be Onryx in 2014

A lineup of my OCs to end out 2024.... wow time flies!

older versions will be under the cut:

the 2022 lineup

the original 2021 lineup

[starryknight-dragonarts]

Nacl the War Mage "Salty Old Man" Gender: Male Background: Nacl is a mature older Crystal Dragon War Mage and Mentor to Sapphire. He has spent most of his life in battles supporting the frontlines with his Crystal Magic and by now has just about had enough of war and wants to retire, so he's strict with Sapphire in order to push her to fill his position as soon as possible. Sapphire calls him "Salty Old man" as a sort of endearing nickname. Personality: Nacl sometimes comes off as aloof, bitter and uncaring on the outside. He's very strict when it comes to discipline, trying to make Sapphire work hard and take her job as a War Mage seriously. Part of it is his own self serving desire to get away from war for good and not look back, but he really does pity Sapphire. He knows the kind of hardships she is going to face, so as his last responsibility he wants to make sure she is prepared for the nightmares he has lived through, and not going to break from the pressure. Sapphire has picked up on some of his more caring side and tried to get close with him as her mentor, but he constantly pushes her and everybody else away to avoid getting attached.

Strengths: Magic Knowledge, War Experience, Medical knowledge Weaknesses: Perfectionist, Trauma, Irritable

Powers: Crystal

Stats Elemental Energy: 6/10 He has an above average amount of energy but can not continuously fight for long periods of time so he tends to prefer quick skirmish tactics

Elemental Control: 8/10 He is a Perfectionist and has trained extensively with his power in order to have better control Intelligence: 8/10 He's a pretty smart dragon, his expertise in Crystal Magic and Battle Tactics. Combat Ability: 9/10 He has spent most of his young life in battle as a War Mage and is still alive to tell the tale.

[mariocki]

Night Monster (1942)

"Why don't you have Millie do that, Miss Judd? That's a maid's work, not a housekeeper's. You needn't answer because I know the reason: that spot under your hand is blood and you didn't want anyone to know."

"Blood? Ridiculous."

"Yes, it is ridiculous. It couldn't be blood, but it is. I've seen those spots before and I've seen you trying to scrub them out because you knew what they were. Blood, the whole house reeks of it. The air is charged with death and hatred and something that's unclean!"