#tw: psychological manipulation

[auschizm]

It's so important NOT to automatically assume that a psychotic/schizo spec person must be "overreacting" or "paranoid" or "having an episode" if they express that they're being mistreated by someone. Because facts are that a lot of shitty people deliberately target us because they know many people will doubt our judgment even if we do speak up about what's happening in private. So please take our distress seriously. Please don't assume we must be wrong about it

[kadextra]

I’m still flipping out. if cucurucho isn’t a hallucination then they got him they’re playing with his emotions, making him dependent on their company, question his reality, even get defensive about their relationship to his friends. and nobody can do anything about it wtffffff this is so… can anyone hear me .

[whump-queen]

whumper using victim blaming dialogue as a humiliation tactic—

“well I wouldn’t have done it if you didn’t make it so fucking easy.”

“if you weren’t so pretty when you begged and cried.”

“if you didn’t take abuse so well.”

“I just hit you and you whine like that— I mean, what am I supposed to think?”

“you know you deserve this.”

“go on, tell me you deserve it.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

and who knows— eventually, whumpee might start to believe they’re right

.

[shoutout to @unorganisedalienrubbish for coming up with like half of these]

[chaotic-jjk-fiction]

Toji Yandere Profile

TW: Everything Yandere, emotional manipulation, talk of kidnapping, implied non-con, fear kink, predator/prey dynamics, fuck toy reader, psychological torture, and not proof read. MDNI

A/N: This is a new, slightly modified, addition to my yandere profiles series. I really want to do one for Shiu Kong soon so hopefully I can get to that. 

Toji Fushiguro:

Cruel, Aware, Manipulative, and Lenient

Toji is a yandere of convenience. He wants to be able to access you easily. If that means locking you up in a basement somewhere so be it, although he would prefer to avoid it. He doesn't want to have that level of responsibility. Needing to make sure you have food and water just sounds like a nightmare. That being said, the thought of you tied up in a dark, concrete room, blindfolded, and crying out for help does get some blood flowing to his cock. His ideal situation is just letting you continue to live your life while being able to just drop in and have his way with you whenever he pleased, before then disappearing until his need for you gets too strong once again. Toji’s form of manipulation is also lazy, he just relies on your fear of him hurting the people you love or killing you to keep you in check. While his cruelty is partially physical, most of it is psychological. He loves knowing that you live your life terrified with uncertainty about when he’ll show up next, and while he is fucking you senseless, he takes great pleasure in reminding you that you’re nothing more than a little fuck toy he can use whenever he wants and that no matter how hard you try to escape, he will always find you.

[darkgodcomplex]

The Lord’s Child

Wally X Reader

CW: ABUSE, EMOTIONAL MANIPULATION, YANDERE, RELIGIOUS GUILT, NON CONSENSUAL TOUCHING

AO3 Link

Here’s the story:

Your hands clasp in prayer as the congregation around you mutters a collective "amen" and starts to shuffle out. Despite the service ending, you don't budge from your pew, continuing to kneel as people pass by until the church is empty.

Well, almost empty.

Still dressed in his priest attire, Wally watches you silently for a moment, wondering what on earth you would want to pray for when you’re already perfect.

He approaches and you’re startled by his voice as he speaks, “Why are you kneeling, child?”

You turn your head, looking up at him. Your sweet, innocent eyes look up at him.

You blink at him, “I-I was just praying, Father.”

He smiles, “You’re the picture of godliness, my child.” He reaches down, index finger hooking under your chin and tugging it up higher as his thumb ghosts over your soft cheek, gently petting you. “I can tell your heart is pure.”

“How can you tell?” You almost demand, voice desperate for his praise. He nearly trembles from the tone. There’s nothing he loves more than the world breaking you down and him picking up all the pieces.

Wally kneels down next to you, clasping your hands in his own. “I can feel you.” He leans in to whisper in your ear. The two of you are so close now that he can feel your hot breath on his neck and hear your heart beat in your chest.

He leans even closer, lips close to brushing your ear, and you flinch away. Wally smiles.

That. That is what made you pure. The way you’re so desperately wanting his affection yet also so afraid of it.

Wally pulls back, keeping his cool. “What did you come to pray for today, my child?”

Your cheeks turn a beautiful shade of red as you look away. “It’s nothing.

“My dear, don’t go lying to a priest.” Wally pushes.

Your cheeks turn even redder as you shrink into yourself. You very clearly don’t want to tell him, which makes him want to know even more.

“Father, it’s just stupid troubles-“

“I want to know.” He puts the pressure on you by waiting in silence.

“It’s just…”

Wally watches you intensely, head tilted to the side as he waits for you to explain.

“I just…” You fidget nervously. “I don’t fit in anywhere.”

Wally can’t help but grin. “Of course you don’t fit in anywhere.” His tone is sweet but his words are cruel. “You’re too pure. The world outside will never accept you.”

Your lower lip begins to tremble and the sweet, guiltless eyes he loves begin to tear up.

“But that’s okay.” Just as he’s cruel, he’s sweet. “You belong with the church. You belong with me.”

Wally runs his hand over your cheek. As tears fall, he doesn’t wipe them away. Instead, he presses his thumb against them, dragging the wetness down your cheek.

“You don’t have to cry.” Wally whispers. “I know you need me. I know you want me. This is all god’s plan.”

This doesn’t stop the gentle flow of tears down your cheeks. That’s okay though. He’ll take you broken.

As he comforts you, Wally slowly gets closer and closer, hand sliding up your thigh to massage circles into the muscle and hot breath trickling over your neck.

You freeze, slowly beginning to realize what’s happening. Took you long enough.

His mouth attaches to your neck, at first sucking and then biting. He can feel you start to tremble beneath him and he pulls away, pressing gentle kisses to where he drew blood and touching you with soft hands.

“Do not be afraid.” He presses another kiss to your wound. “This is what faith is, loving other people. God blessed us with the ability to give and receive love.”

Wally brings his lips up to your ear, wiping blood on it as he kisses it. “I love you, my child.”

“I-I-“ Your terrified voice speaks up, a surprise to him. Your timidness had always been to his advantage.

“I don’t want this!” You shove Wally off of you, scrambling back.

Wally lands back on the pew, nearly hitting his head in your sudden struggle. He blinks at you.

“By rejecting my love you’re rejecting the lord.” Wally spits. “Nobody loves you except me. Nobody could ever love you except me. You’ll go right back to not belonging.” Wally’s breathing is heavy as he finishes.

You start to cry again, “No, I don’t reject the lord.” The years of religious guilt he’s built up in you is paying off.

Wally sighs, “Then let me love you. Stop this nonsense and come here.” He points in front of him.

Slowly, you crawl over to him and he heaves you into his lap. You bury your face in his neck, still sobbing as he rubs your back.

“You belong to god and so you belong to me.” Wally says sternly. “Listen to the lord and you will set yourself free, my dear.”

You nod into his neck and he grasps you tighter.

God is not in this church.

[jekinabox]

some rambles on my takes on Curly from Mouthwashing

I understand that a lot of people see Curly’s reaction to Anya telling him about her SA and what he did after as him ignoring it for Jimmy’s sake- and maybe that’s true, the point could very well be that people (especially those close to the abuser, especially men) will just set that kind of thing aside because the abuser “wouldn’t do that” or “will be better” or whatever, especially because Swansea ends up doing the same thing when Anya tells him, as well as the consistent theming of responsibility and trying to fix things.

But I think that maybe there’s more to it? If you don’t, feel free to look away, this is just my thoughts and take. But I think If the story is about SA and the consequences of not rooting the people out, I don’t understand what Diasuke’s role in it could be, so that just isn’t the moral of the story that I see. Of course, if this is how you see the story, that’s ok! People can have different views on media, and art is as much about people’s different responses to it as it is about what the creators meant.

Onto my little ramblings about the guy!

1- I think it’s very probable that Curly’s been manipulated by Jimmy, and for a long time. They’re “best friends,” and Curly believes Jimmy “won’t try that bullshit with me” even though he clearly does. Even at the birthday party, Jimmy is uncaring to his “best friend,” and during the confrontation near the cockpit, Jimmy outright twists what Curly’s said in the past. (Not to mention what he does to Curly afterward, but that doesn’t exactly count since it’s afterward.) I also wouldn’t be surprised if Jimmy helped Curly out of some situation in the past due to his savior complex and Curly now feels like he owes Jimmy something. It’d be easy for him to overlook Jimmy’s smaller problems if he feels he owes Jimmy something, especially if it’s something bigger, and he seems more of the “deal with it” kind of person anyways, so he’d obviously toss any grievances aside since he thinks everyone needs multiple chances. At first, Jimmy probably unsettled him. But he got used to it, just like his job. He deals with it for the last day, then another, then another.

2- Curly seems legitimately concerned when Anya tells him about everything, at least when he gets confirmation. We don’t see much after the she asks him about the locks on the doors, and we don’t see how much he actually learns, and thus no clue as to how bad he believes the situation may be (Harassment is nothing to scoff at, but if he just believes someone’s being a creep or annoying her, he’s obviously going to try to learn more and deescalate before anything else.) We also never see how much or what they say when she asks for the gun, but what we know is that Curly is freaking out when he thinks she has it, and actually believes it at first to be that she wants to kill herself due to the recent termination of their jobs. He’s first confused, then after her few words of explanation says he’ll talk to Jimmy. We never see an actual talk, but he learns definitively of what happened only “1 day before the crash,” and it takes time to sort through emotions, plans, and decisions, let alone when someone you thought was good did something like that and if you realize that they were a shitty person all along. Curly also then needs to decide what they’re going to do with Jimmy (they can’t lock him in the cockpit or medical because they need those, nor the hold because he would obviously mess up whatever they’re shipping as a hissy fit against them, and considering you get pay docked for complaining, using the cryopod or the gun would probably make this whole deal worthless for practically everyone.) Even if he did decide to just get rid of Jimmy, he’s not going to tell anyone that in case Jimmy finds out, and especially not Anya, since she seems forgiving enough and in a bad enough spot he has no clue what she may try to do if he tells her “I’m going to go kill Jimmy.”

3- Inaction and not taking responsibility doesn’t feel like Curly’s issue. Curly has the responsibility of everything on the ship, even baking a cake, and even when told not to tell his crew about the loss of their jobs, he still does. He even takes roles that aren’t his, like doing Jimmy’s psych evaluation when he sees Anya’s uncomfortable. This is why he and Jimmy are the two characters we play as, and are seen as opposites and each other’s foils. Jimmy’s whole thing is unreliable narration. By the end of the game, he’s convinced himself Curly crashed the ship and he’s the better man for leaving Curly alive after what he “did.” Jimmy’s an aggressive man who uses people for just what they can give him, and he causes problems for the express purpose of trying to fix him so people worship him, but messes up even with all the time in the world to “fix” things. Curly’s the one blamed, but he’s a genuine guy who tried his best and gave people the benefit of the doubt until he couldn’t anymore, but didn’t have the time to fix anything because Jimmy broke that chance.

4- My main bit is over, but another piece of his psychology- Curly probably hates himself, considering how Jimmy talks about him seeming like he’s at the edge of a bridge with cinderblocks on his feet, and if he hates himself, a way he may try to cope is by insisting everyone isn’t tied to their worst moments! Just like how he talks about how pain is a symbol one’s alive, which sounds like another coping mechanism. Jimmy isn’t the only one who hopes it hurts.

5- And Curly was right, most of the time, about how bad things don’t define people. Swansea’s rude and abrasive at times, but a pretty good man in a bad life. Diasuke was unplanned for the journey, but he’s a good intern who’s trying his best. Anya may have only completed the Pony Express medical course, but she keeps Curly alive for four months, even despite his quadruple amputations and missing skin and the complete lack of a lot of medical equipment that she could’ve used. The unfortunate thing is- his kind nature let bad things in, and it was so slow and manipulative he didn’t even necessarily know, consciously, how bad it was, until Jimmy crashed the ship, got everyone killed, and fed him his own leg. 99.9% indeed.

[compassionatereminders]

a friend I had for a long time cut contact with me because of behavior I had already stopped, and I was disappointed but understanding. it didn't affect them but they worried about it anyways

a week later they ruined every single relationship I had except for 2 by spreading exaggerations and lies to everyone I know, conveniently failing to mention that I'd already stopped what they were so scared about. when that was brought up all they had to say about it is "would you forgive a murderer?"

would you compare a handful of mistakes that had no material harm to murder??????

now no one will listen when I apologize or try to explain myself because they made me sound like some kind of manipulative mastermind out to ruin people's lives. even people who were on my side before got uncomfortable and nervous about talking to me because everyone else was pressuring them out of it

it could be worse I guess, I'm just upset. me and that friend had practically grown up together and then they do all this, dressing it up in fake sympathy for my own personal situation to make themselves look better. the funny thing is I don't miss them at all. I don't miss any good times. not after what they did. I just hate them now

I want to scream at all these people but I can't even politely ask to talk about things before they just ghost me

That is such a toxic, manipulative and abusive thing to do based on a small conflict that had already been resolved. I'm really sorry that this person chose to target you in this manner, and that people you considered your friends are just taking their word for it. This must be a horrible situation to be in and I'm sending all my love your way.

[virtue3vice]

[apollo-likes-writing]

June of Doom Day Two - Double-crossed/Forced to Watch

Fandom: Honkai: Star Rail

Characters: Veritas Ratio, Aventurine, Sunday

Ship: Golden Ratio (Aventurine/Dr. Ratio)

Summary: An AU where Sunday knows about the three Cornerstones during the confrontation between himself, Aventurine, and Dr. Ratio. Chaos, whump, and angst ensue.

Word count: 3,364

Tags: Whump, angst, graphic depictions of violence, torture, mind control, mind manipulation, illusions of pain but it isn't technically real, manipulation.

Author's Note: I don't know how I vomited up over 3000 words for this, but here I am. I hope you enjoy! As always, please comment and reblog as it helps me out a bunch (and gives me a much needed serotonin boost). This is not beta-read so please let me know if there are any spelling/grammar mistakes/goofy pacing.

@juneofdoom

Masterlist | Day One | Day Three

Two men stand side by side in front of huge oak double-doors, both in elaborate clothing; one in green, black, and white, and the other in blue, white, and gold. They are presumed to hate each other. They do not. Far from it, actually. They have found a special kind of companionship during their short period of knowing each other. Who would’ve thought a Stoneheart of the Interastral Peace Corporation and a professor of the Intelligentsia Guild could get along? Especially with temperaments as different as theirs. Aventurine: a “crazed gambler” as the other likes to put it. A man of extraordinary levels of luck and the tendency to value petty bets over his own life. Veritas Ratio: a “stuffy doctor” as the other likes to playfully tease, much to his dismay. A professor of profound intelligence, continually disappointed by the divine entity that refuses to cast THEIR gaze in his direction standing next to the man cursed to withstand the favour of another. Both are pitied. Both are revered. Both are about to stab the head of the Oak Family in the back.  

“Sunday is just beyond this door. Are you ready?” the doctor asks, his head turned towards the shorter man beside him. 

Aventurine’s eyes remain trained on the door in front of him. “Yep. You?” 

“Tell me your plan.” 

“I’ll play it by ear.” 

“Are you serious?” 

“When am I not?” 

“Is that a serious question?” 

“It was a rhetorical question, Doctor.” 

“Mine was nothing of the sort, Gambler. Are you telling me you do not have a plan for facing Sunday?” 

“Three chips will do.” 

After that short bicker, Aventurine winks at the man and steps forward to push open the door. It takes everything in Ratio to not sigh and roll his eyes. Doing so would only encourage the man in front of him further, so he instead schools his expression to one of his usual neutrality and calmly strolls into the room behind his companion. Inside sits Sunday, who raises from his seat on the opposite side of the huge circular table and welcomes the two men with a gesture of his hand. 

“It seems my puzzles are too effortless for you, IPC ambassador,” he begins. 

“I see you put a lot of effort into welcoming me, Mr. Sunday. However, this is no way to greet a guest,” Aventurine replies coolly, crossing his arms. 

Sunday smiles, teeth glinting in the light above him. “Well, this isn’t an invitation, but a summoning. Before we speak, I need to test your character. You understand, yes?” He gestures to Ratio, whose expression remains unmoving. “I imagine this knowledgeable doctor friend of yours has been of great help, hm?” 

Aventurine’s faux smile matches the man in front of him. “Certainly. You ought to know this better than I do – he has already faithfully fulfilled his duties, hasn’t he?” 

“Yes. The doctor has assured me of your noble character. He considers you, like himself, a virtuous person who can be trusted by The Family.” Ratio is getting a little sick of being talked about as if he wasn’t in the room. He doesn’t let that show on his face, of course, but he can’t help but feel a little irked. 

“You don’t look too well,” the ambassador suddenly states bluntly. “Am I making you anxious? If not, then it means I’m on your side.” 

“You’re a wise man, Aventurine.” The Halovian places his hands behind his back – the image of grace. “My only concern is that you’ve used your wisdom at the wrong time to meet the wrong person and put yourself in a situation where you shouldn’t be.” His sister’s death. “If I wasn’t mistaken, you have just made a serious accusation against The Family.” 

“You are not mistaken. Depravity is creeping in around you, Mr. Sunday.” This is certainly not how Ratio would go about this. This is creeping into increasingly dangerous territory. “There’s no need to be evasive. Let’s talk about your sister, shall we? Many suspect her death to be the work of outsiders, but I know you are of a different opinion.” 

Ratio can’t tell for sure at this distance, but he could have sworn that Sunday’s posture tenses. 

“Now, your noble status has become a shackle, preventing you from apprehending the murderer and avenging your sister’s death. You’re feeling anxious because you’re out on a limb. But don’t worry. I am on your side.” 

Despite the tightness of his shoulders, Sunday’s voice betrays no such tenseness. “I’m immensely honoured by your concern for me, Mr. Aventurine – since you’re so selfless and generous, I believe you wouldn’t ask for anything in return, would you?” 

“Naturally, you wouldn’t incur any loss from this. I simply want to reclaim what is mine: my liberty, and my personal items under the Family’s custody – the bag of gift money, and-” 

“The Cornerstone and the box that it inhabits.” 

“That’s right.” 

“A treasured asset of the Strategic Investment Department, a sacred stone that seals the Emanator of Preservation, granting significant power to each of the Ten Stoneheart's, yes?” 

“You would be correct.” Where is this going? This is like an elaborate chess game, two players taking the other’s pieces for their own gain. For all his intelligence, Ratio can’t figure out who has the most pawns at their disposal. He knows he is one of them, but his move has already been made. 

“For an object so precious, it probably comes at an even higher price than other forms of recompense.” 

Aventurine frowns – a performed frown – but a frown nonetheless. “I’m sure you’re aware of the high level of risk I’ll be undertaking to bring the truth to light-” 

“Mr. Aventurine,” Sunday starts, raising a hand to silence him. “When you’re out and about, do you always make adjustments to your appearance? Your tie should be on the centre line, your shirt must not protrude from your vest, your trouser creases should be perfectly straight, and always aligned with the tips of your shoes.” 

The blonde nods. “Of course.” 

“I don’t, because it is not appropriate to do so in the company of others – you should make sure you are presentable and in order before leaving the house. Unlike you, I’m not the kind that takes risks. The Cornerstone must remain in the custody of The Family.”  

Looks like the first piece has been taken. Aventurine sighs. “...No room for negotiation?” At this, Ratio moves from where he stands next to the IPC ambassador to the bookshelf closer to Sunday. Ratio must admit that he is a pawn to both players. He doesn’t like it, but it’s a necessary evil. This room is a giant chess board, and he just took his turn. 

Sunday shakes his head. “Please don’t let me turn you down twice.”  

“...Fine. The gift money is fine. I suppose you wouldn’t mind that, yes? After all, a businessman can’t function without a bargaining chip.” To that, Sunday lets himself raise an eyebrow. 

“You compromised quicker than I thought you would,” he notes. “Unfortunately for you, it is a gambler that needs a bargaining chip, not a businessman. I have no qualms in giving you your gift money, but before that, I need you to tell me-” 

Suddenly, Aventurine gasps and takes a step back. His eyes glaze over, and he looks at the Halovian in confusion. It’s a look that appears real. Sunday’s halo glows a myriad of psychedelic pinks and blues and yellows and greens. Ratio must turn away to prevent his distaste from becoming apparent. Sunday is using the power of the Harmony.  

“What exactly is in the box that you have decidedly forsaken?”  

Sunday raises his arms reverently and looks to the ceiling. “Oh Triple-Faced Soul, please sear his tongue and palms with a hot iron, so that he will not be able to fabricate lies and make false vows.” 

“...What is this?” Aventurine shoots a glance towards Ratio, but sees his head turned. 

“Under the light of the Harmony, all wickedness is revealed. I implore THEM to shed THEIR light, and I’ll ask you questions on THEIR behalf. You have two minutes to prove your innocence and gain my trust.” 

“...And if I refuse to answer?” 

“You can certainly try – at your own risk, of course.” Sunday grins. “We’ll see if the Harmony rejects you.” At Aventurine’s decided silence, the sky-haired man begins his interrogation. Ratio turns his head back to the two men. Despite his disgust, he cannot help but be a curious man, so he watches. 

“Question: Do you own a Cornerstone?” he asks. 

“Yes.” The answer is immediate, almost as if it escaped Aventurine’s mouth before he had the chance to think about it. Not good. 

“What a simple answer,” Sunday states, nodding in faux approval. “You, too, understand that nonsense leads only to your expense. Let us continue.” 

“Did you hand over the Cornerstone to The Family when you entered Penacony?” 

“Yes.” 

“Does the Cornerstone you handed over to The Family belong to you?” 

“Yes.” 

“Is your Cornerstone in this room right now?” 

“Yes.” 

“Are you an Avgin from Sigonia?” 

What has that got to do with the current circumstances? 

Aventurine falters slightly at the question, clearly taken off guard. “Yes. Why do you know that?” 

Sunday ignores his question. “Do the Avgins have any ability to read, tamper with, or manipulate one’s own or another’s mind?”  

“What?” he barks out a laugh at the apparently ludicrous question. The action makes Sunday’s halo brighten and Aventurine winces before answering properly. “No. Does it matter?” 

“Do you love your family more than yourself?” Sunday asks, tilting his head to the side. These questions are getting weirdly personal. Ratio crosses his arms. 

“Yes.” An immediate answer. 

“All of the Avgins were killed in a massacre. Am I correct?” 

“No.” 

“Are you your clan’s sole survivor?” 

Aventurine hesitates. “...Probably.” 

“Do you hate and wish to destroy this world with your own hands?” 

A second hesitation. “No.” 

“Alright. Final question: Can you swear at this very moment, the Aventurine Cornerstone is safe and sound in this box?” 

A third. “Obviously.” 

Sunday nods. “Very well. I have no further questions.” 

Ratio gives out a silent sigh of relief. Sunday moves around the table and strolls towards Aventurine, his halo is so bright that even Ratio can feel it. The atmosphere of the room is suffocating in the will of the Harmony. The high-inducing rainbow of colours escaping from behind the head of Sunday is becoming overbearing for the doctor, let alone for Aventurine. He can’t help but feel pity for the Sigonian.  

Sunday halts a few steps away from the Stoneheart. He taps his finger against his chin as if pondering something. “You know, if there could only be one thing I detest in this vast Universe: it would be dishonesty, Mr. Aventurine.” 

Wait, what? That wasn’t what he was supposed to say. Ratio can’t stop himself from shooting a glance towards Sunday from where he stands behind him. 

“I- I beg your pardon?” 

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. You have been lying through your teeth ever since you stepped onto this planet.” 

“Well- yeah. I haven’t exactly tried to hide that. Isn’t that what your mind-fuckery is all about? To get me to tell the truth? Or are you just trying to show off?” he asks, subtly glancing at Ratio. “Or does your ‘power of the Harmony’ not work?” 

“I can assure you, the Harmony influences all. However, I will admit that I have hidden something from you, Mr. Aventurine,” Sunday replies, his wings pitching downwards a little. 

“Well, isn’t that a surprise,” the gambler retorts, evidently filling his words with as much sarcasm as he can muster. His knees buckle slightly, clearly struggling under the weight of the Emanator’s gaze. Ratio can’t look away. 

“While my powers of persuasion have every capability of forcing the truth out of your lips, I decided to do a little experiment to see if you’re capable of honesty of your own volition,” the angelic man says. “You apparently are not. Do you understand what I’m saying?” 

Aventurine stays silent. 

“I’m saying that I know that you’re lying to me.” 

Throughout this entire negotiation, this is the first time Veritas has felt fearful. The room becomes even more suffocating, if that’s even possible. He forces his own face to remain neutral. He plays the role of traitor in this grand play, after all. He must see it through for his companion’s sake. 

From where he stands, he can see Sunday’s shoulders shake. He’s laughing. He’s enjoying this. 

“I know about the Topaz Cornerstone. I know about the Aventurine Cornerstone. And, as similar as it is to your own, I know about Jade Cornerstone.” 

Oh. Shit. 

“How you managed to sway not one- but two individuals from a group as discordant as the Ten Stoneheart's to go along with your terrible plan is beyond me.” Sunday barks a loud laugh. “Truly, you are too much of a risk-taker, Mr. Aventurine. Now-” the man lifts an arm out in front of him, as if reaching for Aventurine from a distance. Ratio can’t stop himself from taking a step forward. He can’t let the man he cares for break in front of him. 

“Kneel.” 

His knees hit the floor, the full force of the Harmony crashing down on him. The scolding feeling of something forcing itself into his brain causes him to squeeze his eyes shut. He opens his mouth to scream, but it’s as if his throat has closed. Useless and silent. 

“What on earth are you doing?” The other man looks on, frozen. 

“You are not the only liar in this room, Aventurine.” He turns. “Come here.” 

He leans forward from where he kneels and falls onto his hands and knees. He crawls over to the Halovian, stopping only when his head almost hits Sunday’s thigh. He falls back onto his calves, looking up at him in pure disgust. 

“Don’t look at me like that.” His face is forced into neutrality against his will. “Let’s play a game, Aventurine. Tell me what your plan is and what Ratio has to do with it, and I’ll let him live.” 

From where he kneels, Ratio turns his head to gaze at Aventurine, unable to look at him in any way except for indifference. He’s fucking terrified, but he can’t make that obvious no matter how much he wants to. 

“Can’t you just force the truth out of me? Why not do that instead?” he asks, looking at his companion on the floor with an expression Ratio wishes he could mirror – fear. 

“That’s boring,” Sunday replies simply. His calm demeanour is steadfast but with a smile that is growing wider with every passing second. “I find this maintains much more efficiency.” 

Aventurine scoffs, still attempting to keep his act. “What does killing an Intelligentsia Guild member do for you that maintains efficiency? You’re mad.” 

“It maintains efficiency because you care about him, Mr. Aventurine. I see all in the Dreamscape. I see the looks shared between the two of you. The companionship you fostered in the short time of knowing each other. You may think you’re able to disguise your relationship with insults and petty arguments, but you cannot. It is frightfully obvious. Besides, you’re more likely to answer truthfully if the life of someone you care about is at stake.” 

“This is pathetic! He has done nothing to you.” It’s obvious that Aventurine is grasping at straws here. 

“You’re right. He has done nothing to me. He has lied and told falsehoods but only because you told him to. I have no reason to do this,” Sunday shrugs, his grin becoming a little too wide. 

There is an oppressive silence that follows. One that draws the line between predator and prey; master and slave; the controller and the controlled.  

“I’m doing this because I hate you, Mr. Aventurine. And you love him.” 

With that, an excruciating pain sets Ratio’s nerves alight. It rips through his mind and tears into his heart and lungs and stomach and extremities. His back hits the floor and he spasms where he lies, agony devouring his senses. 

Veritas Ratio screams. 

He is not a man that screams. Not usually. At pain he normally gives a small grunt and gives a debilitating glare to whomever or whatever caused him harm. Anything more would infer a weakness he doesn’t have. Not here. Here, his voice is guttural and raw and pitched and agonising. It echoes around the room and rises above the Choir of the Harmony that deafens everything else. His eyes snap shut so tightly that he sees stars dotting around in the darkness of the underside of his eyelids. 

“Open your eyes,” several cacophonous voices demand. 

He does, his eyelids shooting open through a compulsion that makes him sick. The psychedelic neon colours of the Harmony streak across his vision and blind him. He continues to convulse on the floor. The pain causes him to double over as stinging tears rip themselves from his eyes and smudge the red under his eyes. 

“Look at him.” 

His head snaps up and his eyes meet Aventurine’s. He’s frozen in place and looking at him in pure horror. Undoubtedly, he has been compelled to stay where he is, made obvious by how much his legs shake and his fingers twitch in futile attempts to reach Ratio. The doctor’s breaths come out in short wheezes, his chest rising and falling in quick succession as panic sets in his bones. While he is not a man to scream, he is also not a man to panic – it is a brief episode of intense anxiety that the brain concocts and transforms into a physical response. Ratio is a man of knowledge and has ways of stopping panic in its tracks before it takes root. In this case, however, knowledge is stripped of him and thrown out of the window. In a small corner of his mind, Ratio knows that this onset of fear and panic is caused by the effects of the Harmony. It is superficial. It is not real.  

But Aeons above – it fucking feels real. 

It carries on for what feels like hours. For all Ratio knows it could have been. If he was more cognizant, he would wonder what Sunday’s goal in this endeavour is. Is it to drive Aventurine into telling the truth? To prove a point? The answer to that is between Sunday and his Aeon. 

He’s sure he blacks out every now and again, the pain writhing across his spine easily becoming too much for his body. He faintly hears the calm voice of the Halovian above him standing resolute as he speaks to Aventurine. He can’t make out coherent words, but by what he can tell from the Stoneheart’s expressions it’s nothing good. He should have been sent to the waking world by now, right? That’s what everyone in The Family says happens. If you want to leave the Dreamscape, you can. You can wake up in your designated Dreampool whenever you want without hindrance. Or is Sunday stopping that as well? He doesn’t know if that’s even possible.  

It’s only when he is once again on the edge of falling out of consciousness that the power of the Harmony lifts from his trembling and fragile body. It isn’t slow like he expected it to be – but rapid. It is immediate and the loss of such a suffocating presence is almost as painful as it was before. He quickly feels arms wrap around him from where he lies limp on the floor, the familiar fluff of the collar of Aventurine’s coat warming his cheek.  

“I’m sorry, Veritas,” he whispers in his ear. “I should never have let this happen to you.” 

Faintly, the doctor hears the wooden door of Sunday’s office click shut. It’s then when he realises, he has been picked up and brought out of his room. Through pained eyes, he gazes at Aventurine. He then lifts a heavy arm to cup the man’s cheek, before slipping into unconsciousness for the final time. 

[milacandless77]

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 | 𝐉𝐔𝐉𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐍

ηαηαмι кєηтσ/ яєαɗєя ѕυgυяυ gєтσυ/яєαɗєя gσנσ ѕαтσяυ/ яєαɗєя вυт נυѕт α ƖιттƖє вιт!

IMPECCABLE— NANAMI KENTO

cнαρтєя 2: тнє ωιтηєѕѕ σf ɗєαтн

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐞𝐬, 𝐬𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. :)

It wasn't a long journey, but it still felt endless. It wasn't your first heartbreak either, yet it hurt just as much, if not worse. You were breaking little by little with every step you took, and your lungs didn't help, producing a choking sensation every time your mind thought of the pain that was to come, it all felt like a cruel stab in the stomach.

You had been through this before, with the same person. But why did it hurt more than the last time? Why did it feel like your first heartbreak when you knew it wasn't? You didn't understand your feelings, but you kept walking, bringing a hand to your chest, trying to calm your rapid breathing, to no avail. You chose to look up at the clear sky to prevent the tears from falling down your face again, feeling vulnerable knowing that the people walking around you were looking at you. You felt exposed.

You tried to think of something else, doing small breathing exercises as you approached your destination of horror. You needed to calm down, and you needed it to be quick, because one thing was clear: he couldn't see you like this. You weren't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing you crumble again because of him.

You knew this situation couldn't affect you academically or emotionally. You couldn't afford any imbalance in your busy daily routine. You let out a long sigh that seemed to release some of the emotional burden and decided to put an end to this once and for all. You swore to yourself that you would be fine on your own and that nothing bad would happen in this encounter... nothing bad would happen, right? So, what was this feeling in your gut telling you to turn around and go back to your classes, leaving all this mess in a text message? You dismissed that thought. You needed to give this relationship a definitive closure, and you knew that closure couldn't come through simple messages.

You were already too close to the shopping center where you had agreed to meet. You felt calmer now; you weren't even crying anymore. As you waited for the traffic light to indicate that pedestrians could cross the busy avenue, you thought about how ironic it was to have so many amenities less than ten minutes away from your fancy university. "Hey, girl, want to go shopping after school? You just need to cross the damn avenue. Feel like grabbing a drink with your friends? You can do it after class, just need to cross the avenue again."

For that reason and more, you made the decision that breaking up with him wouldn't affect you like before. You had perfect grades and a full scholarship to maintain in order to stay at that rich-kid university.

"Ok, here we go, stay calm, please stay calm," you repeated to yourself several times as you took deep breaths and clenched your fists.

The traffic light had already indicated that pedestrians could cross. You only had to pray that this situation wouldn't be as painful as you imagined. You could see him from the short distance that separated you, in front of the main entrance of the shopping center. It bothered you how your now ex-boyfriend looked so calm and indifferent, but that attitude didn't surprise you either.

"Hey, let's get this over with quickly, okay?" he said, rolling his eyes when he saw you.

"Fine by me," you said, looking at the watch on your wrist. "I have a class in a few minutes and I wouldn't want to miss it because of this."

"Do you always have to act like a fucking bitch?" he looked you up and down with disgust and anger.

You sarcastically laughed at his comment, but it was the perfect moment for a treacherous tear to start running down your face.

"Just tell me the reason, Naoya, so I can go do something more productive and interesting," you said, wiping away the tear as he laughed at you.

"Alright, let's get started. I'll reward you by being extremely honest after you pretended to be a strong girl for less than five minutes," he said, feigning sadness. "I'm tired of you. You have nothing to offer me. I need someone who is on my level and, most importantly, who at least lets me fuck them."

"Are you done?" you faked a smile, although the tears kept falling.

"Nope," he responded, smiling horribly. "See the girl on the other side of the street? I guess she looks familiar, doesn't she?" he whispered mockingly in your ear, grabbing your shoulder to forcefully turn you towards her.

You felt like your heart and stomach were being kicked. You knew who she was, the ex-girlfriend he had cheated on you with before. You were breathing heavily, this breakup was much worse than what you had imagined in your head.

“So seeing each other in person was with the intention of humiliating me from afar, in front of her," you laughed between tears.

“Calm down, I haven't even said the worst yet and you're already like this," he mocked mercilessly. "We both know who she is. She's the only person who has really interested me during all this time together. And you, you were just someone who served to feed my ego. Anyone would say you're an idiot for putting up with everything I did to you and how I treated you," he laughed, bending down to your height and looking at you with amusement. "It's a shame you couldn't even open your damn legs. I don't understand how you managed to make that girl feel insecure when you're nothing. You just make me feel sorry for you."

It was obvious. She wanted to see this spectacle to make sure he could get rid of you like garbage. You wanted to say something, but you felt petrified, humiliated. Your blood boiled with anger, but you couldn't stop crying.

"Stop crying. Let's face it: you're a disgusting failure. You're no good in bed, you don't have an important last name, and you didn't even have time to serve me properly. What did you expect me to do? Endure that torment forever?" he feigned exhaustion with a sigh. "So, if you'll excuse me, useless bitch, I have other matters to attend to," he pushed you out of his way roughly.

You clenched your jaw so hard you thought you had hurt yourself. The tears and hair in your face blurred your vision. Your legs trembled and your breathing showed hyperventilation. The tears were of pure fury.

You hated the feeling of being made a fool again, of being completely insulted. You felt a rage in your body that drove you crazy as you saw the girl on the other side of the avenue. You could feel her laughing at you, how everyone around you laughed at your state or at least looked at you with curiosity and disgust. He also couldn't stop laughing behind your back as he waited for the pedestrian crossing signal.

Everything was spinning. Everything around you looked blurry and spinning. You realized one thing: you weren't going to let him win this time, much less so easily.

You grabbed his shoulder abruptly, almost digging your nails into him, intending to slap him when he turned around. But all you managed to do was make him look at you with even more disgust and open his mouth faster than you.

"It seems you never get tired of being humiliated, huh?" he mocked, watching as the traffic light began to blink. "However, it's time for me to leave. I have a bitch to fuck, and obviously it's not you. Get out of my way."

He pushed you again, but this time with much more force, causing you to fall onto the pavement, between the sidewalk and the street of the avenue. You felt that, being tackled by him, he had left some wounds on your skin, as it burned through your clothes; you were probably bleeding a little. The people eager to cross stepped on your hands and feet, hurting your four limbs even more.

A thought of impulsiveness made you dizzy, wondering if no one had pity on you, why should you have any? You thought this was your opportunity. There were a few seconds left before the cars and buses started moving again. Your fury clouded your mind. You decided you wouldn't rest until that piece of shit stopped breathing.

Everything was spinning. You looked at his "ex-girlfriend," who was already looking at you. Something in you screamed that it was now or never. The traffic light's countdown indicated the start of traffic in less than three seconds. And then you did it:

You pretended to step back onto the sidewalk so that your body wouldn't be run over when the traffic started moving again. Although this was partly true, your real purpose was that now it was your turn to tackle him, and in a much crueler way: you kicked his feet hard so that he fell face-first onto the avenue.

As you did this, you told yourself several times to close your eyes and not watch what was about to happen, but the shock and morbid curiosity overcame your willpower.

3

2

1

"What the fuck—" his voice was instantly cut off.

Everything happened so fast. A horn blared incessantly. It was a bus. Half of his body was under it, that was the last thing you knew.

The horrified screams of the people around you did not cease. Slowly, you began to regain consciousness amidst all the chaos. You looked down at your crimson-stained legs and then observed the people around you, realizing that several of them were equally covered in blood, or even more.

Still, you are the only person guilty of his death.

Standing up completely, you turned towards the entrance of the shopping center to stop looking at the dead person in front of you and in front of that crowd. That's when you started vomiting uncontrollably, crying as you did for a couple of minutes. People started approaching you, asking:

"Are you okay?"

"Was he your partner?"

"You were so close to being run over too!"

"Why did he also fall onto the avenue, just like you?"

You couldn't answer any of their questions. You heard the noise of people as if it were too far away, accompanied by an annoying ringing probably caused by the trauma of what had happened. You were completely paralyzed, looking at your disgusting vomit and rehashing what you had just done.

You snapped out of shock when you heard the doors of the shopping center opening and closing non-stop. You looked up even more to properly see who was still in the sensor of the doors.

It was the guy who had burned you with his cigarette, the same long-haired dark-haired guy who now saw you with an expression of horror equal to or worse than yours.

He had seen that you had done it on purpose, right? And if so, why is he now smiling smugly at you and then turning around and walking away?

He was the last thing you saw.

Finally, everything around you blurred, as if you were at the top of a spinning mechanical ride that caused extreme dizziness. Then, everything turned black and you stopped hearing completely. Finally.

.

Did you just die too? You still don't believe it, you retain consciousness as you hear your own voice in that black background where you find yourself.

You hear a slight beep over and over again, something annoying and stuck in your arm. Your fingers begin to move, trying to touch each other. Your eyes strain to open slowly, revealing an unfamiliar room. Where are you?

"Nurse, she has finally woken up!" you hear your mother's voice as you still feel doped.

You turn to the intravenous line next to the beeping heart monitor, and you start to remember what happened... or rather, what you did.

You sit up abruptly from the bed, grabbing your mother's arm and pulling her towards you. You try to speak, but the words don't come coherently from your mouth.

"Bus. Accident. Crash. Blood." you were beginning to feel short of breath and your breathing became unstable "Mom, he's dead, Mom, he died in front of me." You pull some of your hair due to the stress that dominates your body.

You were going crazy with the guilt you felt. Images began to project in your head, as if what had happened was a fast-forward movie.

Your mother began to cry with you; you had never seen her so scared. She had always been a strong-willed woman since you were born.

"Daughter, I know. They told me everything that happened. I am so sorry, but I am just grateful at this moment that you are okay." She tried to calm you down with a hug while combing your disheveled hair.

"Mom... how do you know what happened?" You didn't understand how she knew that you were also in danger at that moment.

"You were unconscious for a day and a half. They opened a small investigation into the case, thinking that maybe you had pushed him into traffic." She looked into your eyes with an expression you couldn't describe. "I had to review the security cameras in front of his family so that the case could be properly closed. However, the recording showed how he had first pushed you into the avenue, among the passing crowd. Seconds later, it also showed how he inexplicably fell in front of the cars, with no chance of getting up, just like you did." She took a long pause before continuing. "Just the thought that you could have also died in that horrible way... I couldn't live with it."

Your mother started crying again as she lovingly held your face, but you gently pushed her away. Then, you fixed your gaze on the sheets, thinking that this wasn't really what had happened.

You woke up with the sensation of being in trouble, fearing that you might go to jail. You didn’t understand why, although the crowd around you was overwhelming, you knew the security cameras had clearly captured your sudden movement as you tried to stop it. However, why weren’t you in jail at that moment? Why did the cameras show something different from what you remembered doing?

A light bulb went off in your mind, considering the possibility that someone had tampered with the recording. But who could it have been? You reflected on all the people around, but you knew they were all too preoccupied with themselves until the exact moment the horrible and bloody accident occurred.

Then you remembered the person standing in front of the mall doors. That person had watched you with a horrified expression, the same one that seconds later smiled at you in a way that sent chills down your spine. It was baffling how someone could react like that after witnessing something so gruesome live and in person, and then simply carry on as if nothing had happened.

There was no way they had covered for you, they didn’t even know you. Maybe they didn’t even know what you had done, or at least that’s what you wanted to believe. You let yourself collapse onto the stretcher, forbidding yourself from deluding that someone you didn’t even know had saved your skin from being jailed for homicide.

What you didn’t know is that they had indeed done so, and they were going to make good use of your little secret, which you now both shared.

Nor did you have the slightest idea of how much he was going to benefit from having kept the original tape on a USB drive for himself, and finally having configured the mall’s tape in that way, thanks to all his connections.

.

Hello, please don't hate me, Naoya Zenin fans, for killing him in my fanfic. I spent days thinking about who Y/N's ex-boyfriend that would die should be, and I asked myself, "Who is the most detestable character?" For a few seconds, I thought it could be Sukuna, but that guy can't be killed, not even by Gege Akutami himself, lol. Then I thought of Mahito, but I can't even consider him human, and he disgusts me, hahaha. So, I decided on Naoya as the candidate. Sorry.

This chapter was so difficult to write. I wanted to describe everything Y/N felt—the fear, the hatred, the frustration, and the impulsiveness—so I hope it’s understandable. On another note, I swear NANAMI will appear in the next chapter, but I needed this chapter to give context to how this girl became so unhinged that she needs extreme help.

I decided to introduce Suguru Getou first because, although he won't be Y/N's first love interest, he will be part of the tumultuous love triangle that these three will experience (you're going to LOVE and hate him at the same time, I promise—maybe more love than hate).

There will also be a bit of GojoxReader, but I won't give any spoilers about this ship; I'll keep that to myself, hehe. But I swear it's good stuff!!

You can find me on AO3 as: @/milacandless77

Thank you for the support! The next chapter will be called "The Blackmail."

—⋆mila 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

The next chapter:

[loveyourlovelysoul]

Reading the kind of messages a guy sent a girl before abusing her and killing her, makes me realize how manipulative he was with her, playing with her kindness, guilt/codependent issues and lack of healthy boundaries. She wanted their story to be over while he couldn't accept it.

It also throws me back to a guy I met once and that showed slightly similar manipulative behaviours with me. I was lucky enough to become aware of that in time and get away, build up a wall and leave him by putting myself first and not letting him control me. It breaks me she couldn't, nor could ask for help or talk about this with others who could have helped the guy while keeping a distance from him.

Please if you find yourself in a toxic and potentially dangerous situation like this, where someone tries to make you think they may do something bad and only you can save them (or even they try to control your every move and/or have you say/behave in certain ways to make them feel good), talk with someone who can help you and ask for help for this person too by contacting their family/friends. Remember it's not you they need, but to feel the power that comes from the control they have on you and the attention you keep giving them as you feel responsible for them (in reality you're not!! You're only responsible for yourself, you cannot save them from their own demons but you have to save yourself). It could be anyone else. So save yourself first and foremost, and if you can try to save the next person (this habit has no gender anyway) too by talking about this with their closest ones or a school psychologist or anyone really.

Please take care of you.

[neuroticboyfriend]

gentle reminder that gaslighting isn't always an abuser blatantly calling you crazy. they may lecture you about how you're misinterpreting something. they may say something very serious is no big deal. they may get passive aggressive and leave you feeling irrational. or they may get furious at you for being overdramatic without ever directly calling you that.

gaslighting is a form of manipulation, and manipulation is most effective when the victim doesn't even notice it's happening. "you're just insane" is a lot more obvious than "i don't remember that happening, are you sure it wasn't just a bad dream?" and whether it's over or covert, both are horrible. both are dangerous. both are abusive, and oftentimes neglectful.

be careful out there, and know you know yourself best. you are the expert on you - your mind, your body, your life. no one can change that. not even the people who wield so much power over us.

[wisteria-whump]

i love when whumpees have nightmares that are so vivid and feel so long and real that when they wake up they can't help but just lay in their bed feeling the huge amounts of relief that none of it was real

[torchickentacos]

you ever scroll past some sort of discourse that you didn't even know existed, and you have to take a second and realize that, while none of us are superior to others, some of us ARE much better at choosing which dumbass hills to die on? because I think sometimes you deserve to go 'huh. at least I'm not getting involved in all that'.

[traumatizedjaguar]

So I learned that "weaponizing feelings" is something abusers do when they try to claim you're being abusive or disrespecting them. If someone says you did something that upset them, you apologize and do better but when this is used in a weaponized manner due to abusers redefining words like "respect", you aren't disrespecting someone, but instead you're being gaslit and having DARVO used on you. So, if you feel like you're walking on eggshells or scared of their reaction while you're being labeled a bully and made out to be a bad person or made out to be constantly this bad person then they are abusing you and gaslighting you.

[bilightningwhumper]

@ailesswhumptober 2024- Day 25

Fright/Freaky Friday: Humiliation, betrayal, “How could you?!”

<<Previous . My AI-less Whumptober 2024 Masterlist . Next>>

"Hollow Mirror" Masterlist --- TNEI Tumblr Masterlist

Summary:

Excerpt for "Hollow Mirror" (Alice in Wonderland retelling) Reid has a realization meeting his parents' new "pet"

Notes:

Characters: Reid- Red Knave Reid's mother (currently unnamed)- Red Queen Natalie- Alice Silvia- White Queen Lionel- Mad Hatter Warnings: noncon drugging, dubcon/noncon intimacy, manipulation

Ao3 link

Word count: 566

Reid PoV

“Here, come meet our new pet!” his mom said, looking her arm around his to lead him into the living room.

As much as he was used to the sight, it had grown unsettling in recent years to see his mothers’ partners and all their pets gathered like this. After all, there were grown adults, all of them around his age. And he never got a straight answer from his mom about where the pets disappeared when they got too old.

The newest edition he knew immediately, as he’d never seen her before now. Her back was to him as she was held to Silvia’s chest, the two of them seated on the largest couch of the room. Normally, Reid would avert his gaze when his secondary mother was breastfeeding her chosen pet, but this time, he couldn’t look away.

Golden hair fell down her shoulders and back, loose and long, held back by a simple black headband. Her fair skin was bare, the only thing she wore being a diaper, adult-sized though designed like a child’s. She lay limply in Silvia’s arms, maybe drugged? New pets never did well until they had time to adjust. His Family preferred to medicate their pets instead of traditional punishment methods.

Reid watched as her legs twitched and listened as a whining moan came from her throat, how she detached from Silvia to roll on her back as she arched, brows furrowed and eyes closed. As Silvia hushed the girl, he could see the soul-mark on her upper left leg. It was a blue rose, fully bloomed and surrounded by dark green thorns. The same one in the same place as his own.

Rounding on his mother, he growled with tears in his eyes. “How could you? She’s-”

“Your soulmate, yes, we know. That’s why she’s here, darling.” His mother cupped his head in her hands. “It’s tradition that the heir’s soulmate is trained by the Family before any breeding is to occur, you know that.”

He nodded and she let him go. Whether or not she saw the reluctance and betrayal in his eyes, he didn’t know.

A hand clapped on his shoulder, fingers gripping a little too tight. “She should be ready to provide you pleasure, if you want to try her out now.” Lionel said, smiling at him with all of his teeth as Reid turned to look up at him. “Unless, of course, you don’t think we did a good enough job?”

Unsure what to do, Reid let himself be guided to the couch and pushed down.

Silvia smiled dreamily over at him. “Don’t worry, just relax.” she said in her odd lulling singsong voice. “Alice knows what to do, don’t you, baby?”

The girl, Alice, nodded, eyes half-lidded as she moved down to the floor, kneeling in front of Reid. As her slim fingers undid his belt and pants, he wanted to stop her, to take her away up to his room, away from all these prying eyes. He didn’t know what would happen when the drugs finally wore off, but he knew from what he’d learned in his classes that they were still aware and would remember everything. And this had to be as humiliating to her as it was for him.

But he was powerless, just as much as she was. As all the pets were. And that wasn’t… that wasn’t right.

TNEI Taglist:

@scoundrelwithboba