#whump gaslighting

[only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are]

Redwood Psychiatric Institute - Part 1

MASTERLIST

Edit: Not me accidentally giving the dr two names - I originally had him as Morgan but changed it to Wilson later. I must have left a Morgan in there. Sorry for the confusion!!

Note: This was going to be in two parts, but I thought it would make more sense to combine them and put them in one post. So if you've already read the 1st bit, please keep reading!

Also, Happy New Year! I wanted to kick off 2023 with some whump writing that I'm proud of.

CWs: noncon drugging, forcedsedation, medical restraints, medical gaslighting, forced 'mental illness' treatment

"The psychiatric hospital stands tall with three story buildings, a sprawling lawn, and 6 foot fences enclosing the entire property." The figure narrated from the edge of the grounds. “In the moonlight, it’s an eerie sight to behold.”

He paused the recording temporarily to fiddle with the settings on the microphone, and snap another photo on his camera. ‘Low battery!’ warned the camera. 

“Damn..” He muttered under his breath. 

He turned back to look up at the building, and suddenly heard a twig snap behind him. He froze in place. It was just his mind playing tricks on him, he reasoned. He was alone. He didn’t speak again - just in case. The wind howled through the trees off in the distance. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. 

“Who’s there?” He breathed. 

No response. The woods stood silently swaying in the breeze. 

WHAM!

Something slammed into his back, knocking him to the ground. The camera and recorder were sent flying, the air was shoved out of his lungs from the impact. He didn’t even get the chance to scream, before something sharp pricked his neck. The world dissolved into darkness.

----------------------------------------------------

His eyes flew open to find that he was lying on a bed.

'It was just a dream, Rowan. Take a breath. You’re home. You’re safe.'

He looked around. Except, he wasn’t home. He was in a vast, empty room with pristine white walls and white linoleum flooring. Definitively not-home. 

'Where am I?'

The door cracked open. 

'Finally, someone to explain what’s going on,' Rowan thought. 

Three men stepped in. The first, a middle-aged, medium build man with small round glasses, a clean-shaven face and wearing a doctor’s coat. The other two were well built, tall, and wore white nurses’ scrubs. One had a scar below his left eye, with thick, dark curly hair on his head, and the other had blonde cropped hair and a mean-looking jaw. Blondie also had a nasty black eye.

These were not exactly the people Rowan was expecting. 

The doctor gestured for the two nurses to stand in front of the door, and then he slowly approached Rowan’s bed.

“Hello again. Glad to see you’re awake.” The man had a calm, quiet manner of speaking as he sat on the end of Rowan’s bed.

“Uh.. hi.” Rowan said slowly.

“Ah, I’m sorry.. one moment.” The doctor pulled a small penlight from the pocket of his coat, and shine it in each of Rowan’s eyes. “Hm..”

“Am I in hospital?” Rowan asked as the doctor put away the light.

The man glanced at the two in front of the door, before turning back to Rowan. “You don’t remember?” He asked, his cool tone giving nothing away. 

“No. I was.. what..” Rowan sighed, furrowing his brow as he tried to remember how he’d gotten in this room. 

Oh! The article!

“Well, I was conducting an.. article on a mental hospital.” He said, trying to mimic the doctor’s cool tone. Technically, he wasn’t lying. But he couldn’t let on the full truth, either.

“I see.”

“And then.. and then…”

'I can’t remember. What happened between the woods outside, and here?'

“Can you tell me your name?” The Doctor asked, pulling Rowan out of his thoughts.

“Rowan Murdock.”

“I see, Rowan..” The man glanced at the two nurses again.

“I’m a journalist for The Daily Press, maybe you’ve heard of me?”

The man looked back at Rowan. “Ah.”

“Look, am I in a hospital?” Rowan asked.

The man sighs softly. “What I’m about to say might be very hard to hear. I want you to stay calm, or those two orderlies will have to give me a hand, alright?” He asked, pointing with his chin at the two men in front of the door.

“Okay…” Rowan murmured. “Just, tell me.”

“Yes. You are in a hospital. But... Your name isn’t Rowan Murdock. It’s James Lawton. And you’re in a psychiatric hospital.”

Breathe, Rowan. Just breathe. Stay calm.

“But- that can’t be right. The last thing I remember was walking through the forest. On the outside of Redwood Psychiatric."

"Well, at least you remember the name of this place. You're a patient here - this is Redwood." The Doctor explained, gesturing around the room.

"But I'm not. That's what I'm trying to tell you! There's been some kind of mistake." Rowan pressed, fighting to keep his voice level. "My name is Rowan Murdock, and I'm a journalist. Not a crazy person."

"Listen, James. Take a deep breath. You're in good hands here. Of course you aren't crazy. That's a very outdated and harmful term. You just need help. There's nothing wrong with that." The Doctor placated. "And you've clearly lost your memory after the relapse caused by your escape attempt. So let me refresh your memory. My name is Doctor Wilson. You voluntarily placed yourself in the care of this hospital four months ago, after an increase in hallucinations, paranoia and violent behaviour. The most accurate diagnosis for your symptoms is schizophrenia. I'd like to continue working on your treatment with you, James."

"My name isn't James. If you found my camera, or looked in my-" he'd started to reach for his pant pocket as he spoke, only to realise that the clothes he had been wearing had been replaced by a thin white hospital gown. "-pocket… Well you must have, then. You'd have found my ID, with my name on it. Rowan Murdock."

"We didn't find any camera or ID, James."

"Stop calling me that."  Rowan protested.

"As your Doctor, it is not my place to play along with your hallucinations. I will only set back your recovery further."

"But I'm not your patient! You can't do this!" Rowan fought back tears.

"Take a deep breath, James. You voluntarily committed yourself to our care, meaning that you gave your permission to be here. We can even show you the paperwork if you like. We can keep you here for as long as we think necessary to treat you, because you legally gave us permission to do so." The Doctor tried in a soothing voice. "In a moment, Nurse Dean will bring your meds. You're going to take them for me, and you're going to calm down, okay?"

Rowan stared at the wall, refusing to meet the Doctor's gaze. A knock sounded at the door, and the two orderlies stepped aside to open the door. A man entered, wearing nurse's scrubs and carrying a tray with a dozen small wax paper cups, each with names printed on them. 

"Hello, James." The man said as he stepped up to the bed, handing the tray to the orderlies and picking up a cup with James Lawton on it. "Glad to see you're back with us. Here's your meds." He held the cup out to Rowan.

Rowan reached out and took it, holding up the small cup to inspect the half a dozen pills of different colours and sizes. "What are all of these for?"

“James, you might not remember, but I have told you this before - I can’t tell you, or any of the other patients’, that. You’d only try to avoid certain medications to avoid their effects.” Nurse Dean said firmly. He pushed the tablets closer to James. “Come on, take them. You know the drill, if you don’t take them, we have to inject the medication anyway. So you choose - easy way or hard way.”

Rowan stared into the cup for a moment longer, then slowly tipped the pills back into his mouth. And proceeded to subtly tuck them under his tongue. 

“Open wide.” Nurse Dean pulled out a tongue depressor, and used it to check in Rowan’s cheeks, and then lifted the patient’s tongue. When he found the tablets, he sighed. “James….” 

The nurse lifted the pills onto the wooden stick, then deposited them all at the back of his throat. Then, he placed his hand on Rowan’s throat and massaged firmly, forcing him to swallow the assortment of drugs. Rowan’s throat hurt from the large mass being shoved down his gullet all at once. He coughed, and the Doctor picked up a paper cup from the bedside table, and handed it to Rowan, who took it gratefully and swallowed several mouthfuls of water from the cup.

“I’m sorry. But that one’s on you.” Nurse Dean took back the tray of pill cups from the orderly, and turned to leave. “See you, James. Behave for Doctor Wilson.”

Rowan didn’t say a word as the nurse left, cataloguing the doctor’s name away - information that he was likely supposed to already have, but he didn’t want to add fuel to the Doctor’s claims that he had lost it. He balled the bedsheet in his fists for a few minutes in silence, until he realised Doctor Wilson was talking to him.

“-I’m very disappointed in you, James. You’re going to have to try better than that.” Doctor Wilson said, brow furrowed. 

“Ma nerm.. isen J-” Rowan stopped, realising his tongue was thick and heavy in his mouth, and words and syllables weren’t coming out properly. “Wh-”

The fluorescent lights were blurring above his head. He couldn’t hear, the world had been submerged in water. Where was he again? 

'The article. Something to do with the article. He said-'

'I didn’t-'

'Where am I?'

'Why is everything moving. It hurts.' 

'Let me sleep.'

----------------------------------------

James lay on the hospital bed, his head lolling around. He was blinking furiously, trying to stay with it, but they’d put him on such a high dosage that his efforts were futile.

Doctor Wilson stood and pulled the blanket off of his patient. He then turned to the orderlies. “Move him to the maximum security padded room, and restrain him.”

“Yes, Doctor Wilson.” 

The two orderlies approached the semi-conscious patient, picking him up from underneath his armpits, and began dragging him down the hallway.

“Excellent.” Doctor Wilson stepped out the room and closed it behind him.

He walked down the hall of the hospital, following closely behind the orderlies with James. He stepped in front of them, and opened the door with his thumbprint so that they could enter. 

The orderlies placed James on a small, frameless bed against one padded wall. The young man looked tiny as he curled into himself on the mattress, wispy strands of his short caramel hair hanging in his eyes. The orderly with the scar reached under the bed and pulled up padded cuffs that had straps attached to them, with the other ends of the straps sewn into the mattress. As the orderlies and Doctor Wilson held James down and started placing his arms and legs in the restraints, the patient tried to pull away, but he was too weak in his drugged state. With ease, the three men restrained him to the bed. 

Doctor Wilson and the orderlies left the room, closing the door behind them. Doctor Wilson knew that there would be a problem when his patient woke up, but he or the other staff would be watching from the cameras inside the room. 

“Martin, I need you to destroy that camera and ID.” Doctor Wilson said to the curly-haired orderly.

“Yes sir.”

~~~~~~~

PART 2

Taglist (there will be more parts so please let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!): @whatiswhump and @jancameforthewhump

[whump-in-the-closet]

dialogue prompts for traitor whumpees

(cws in tags)

the betrayed:

"What are you doing? Why did you lock...why did you lock the door?"

"No! Stop, you can't do this!"

"You don't have to do this."

"I thought I could trust you."

"When I get out of this-- when, not if-- when I get out, you're going to wish you were dead."

"Fucker. I always knew you were trouble. No one else listened, did they? They took in your sob story and swallowed it whole."

"Oh, you're sorry? You're sorry? Why don't you run back to your master like the dog you are?"

"Fuck off."

"I don't want to hear it. I don't!"

"We should have never trusted you. We should have never helped you."

"You're going to regret this, I promise you."

the betrayer:

"I'm...so sorry."

"Its for your own good."

"This was the only way, you don't understand."

"I'm sorry-- I had to, they forced me-- please, please forgive me."

"This would be much easier for you if you just held still."

"Oh? Are the handcuffs a little tight? Do they pinch? My bad, let me just cut off your circulation here."

"This is very satisfying, I have to admit. And just the tiniest bit humorous."

"Someone gag them. They never know when to shut up."

"You really should have known better."

"Why on earth did you think I ever needed your help?"

"It was me or you, old friend. And I really prioritize survival over any relationship."

"It's nothing personal. It just had to be done."

"I may regret this, I may not. At least I'll be alive to regret it."

"You don't understand what they did to me. You will though. Soon."

"Oh shut up, this isn't even the worst part."

"I had no idea some of the most brilliant minds in the world were so... gullible."

"God, you lot were stupid. You...followed me into a basement. Seriously, what is up with that?"

[defire]

Gaslighting

"You're not hurt, I'm not hurting you, stop screaming"

"repeat after me. 'I deserve this.'"

"Please don't, please don't--" "don't what? What are you afraid of?" (This also means whumper can bait whumpee into telling them what they fear most)

"What so me treating your wounds is abuse now?" "You're burning me!" "I'm CAUTERIZING you."

[whumpybobbert]

[blurryeyeswhump]

augusnippets

Day 1: gaslighting, hypnosis, brainwashing

Whumpee was face down on the ground heaving in gulps of air and dust and whatever else littered the concrete floor beneath them. They showed no signs of getting up or even trying. Whumper stepped back a little, admiring the beating he’d just dished out. Restraints weren’t even necessary anymore. Whumpee never even tried to fight back, not for quite sometime now.

“What did you do to deserve this?” Whumper mused.

“What?” Whumpee coughed out a few moments later, lifting their head to wipe the blood and saliva from their mouth.

“You’re religious aren’t you? I hear you down here sometimes, praying. You find God in here or did you bring Him with you?”

“No, I-“ Whumpee swallowed hard, “it’s from before.”

“So what did you do? To deserve me?” Whumper had no idea if this would work or not. But Whumpee’s mind was ripe for fucking. Starved of food and water, of light and any human interaction that wasn’t pain.

Whumpee finally started to push themself up to their knees.

“That’s not how it works,” they said, eyes lowered.

“No? You don’t think so? You can’t think of one thing you’ve done deserving of hell? Even one on earth? Come on, you think the universe would allow something like me to happen to you if you didn’t deserve it at least a little?”

Whumpee looked up at him with new eyes. Guilty, shameful eyes.

“I can absolve you, sweetheart, I can free you from all of this. But you have to admit

to me, and to yourself, that you deserve it.”

Whumpee looked down again. Whumper cocked his head and spoke.

“Do you deserve this?”

“No,”

“Whumpee…” he was so close he could fucking taste it.

Whumpee covered their face with their hands, but Whumper could still hear their little tear-soaked voice.

“M-maybe.”

[thewhumpcaretaker]

🖤 Dehumanization Whump: Treating Whumpee Like a Monster 🖤

A lot of dehumanization whump relates to making whumpee act like a pet or an object. And that’s great! But you know what else isn’t human? Monsters. Here's some dehumanization that’s about treating whumpee as villainous, toxic, etc.

TW: gaslighting

Keeping whumpee in restraints not because they’ll run away, but because they’re “dangerous.”

Deliberately walking on eggshells around whumpee until whumpee gets annoyed and snaps - which just proves they’re dangerous.

Handling whumpee only with gloves.

“It doesn’t deserve kindness because it doesn’t even have a heart to receive it.”

“It can’t love.”

“Those aren’t real tears. It’s just trying to fool you - it’s not capable of sadness.”

Making whumpee sterilize things they’ve touched as if they’re diseased or poisonous.

Forcing whumpee to kill because “that’s in its nature.”

Refusing to accept whumpee’s apologies and pleas for mercy when they make a mistake, because “it’s not capable of real remorse.”

Dressing whumpee in armor or military uniform and refusing to let them be soft.

Warning any potential friends or allies away from whumpee to keep them isolated. “You don’t want to get too close. It’s scary.”

“Stop lying to me that you’re sorry. Liars are punished.”

Whumpee is punished until they “admit” that they enjoyed doing the bad thing.

Whumpee DOES want to do violent things, because they're lashing out at Whumper in revenge. This is treated as proof that they're bad.

“Who knows what you’re capable of?” And just listing vast amounts of horrific things whumpee will later be forced to do, in graphic detail.

[suspensefulpen]

Guys I love holiday whump.

It’s like the best combo. It’s supposed to be the happy time of the year. But you can completely ruin it by torturing a poor soul with no remorse.

Take them away from everything they know and love. Make them lonely. Condition them to believe the holidays are the scariest time of the year and that something bad will happen to them if they try to leave. Condition a Scrooge into loving the holidays. Chain them down in Christmas lights. Tie them to a Christmas tree. Burn them with candle wax. Make their loved ones have to see them in a hospital bed with multiple wires attached to them, barely breathing.

I’m not a Scrooge but I need this fr

[writinggremlin]

Ok, here's interesting concept for ya'll to chew on for a bit:

Mind control/hypnosis, but it's so subtle that barely anyone realizes that there's been a change. It's nearly imperceivable. Anything that is noticeable can easily be chalked up to normal character development.

Anyone who grows suspicious can easily be seen as paranoid, even to other unaffected people. There's no tangible proof, there's no evidence-- sure they're acting a little different, but a lot can happen in a week. Nobody's the same on Friday as they were on Monday.

It's all in your head.

You're overthinking things.

It's fine.

They're fine.

Everything's fine.

Here's some medicine to help with your anxiety.

So many ways this could be applied though. As a virus trying to stay under the radar, a cult with a leader who has these powers, hell I can see applications for vampires or other species that relies on enthralling humans too (they could let their thrall be out in public, unsupervised, and nobody would even be suspicious enough to try to break them out of it. And if they did it would make them seem like a weirdo.) (There's also the whole idea of vampires being able to be more public a little more safely because obviously mind control isn't real! That's all fictional, Hollywood nonsense! These people want to be fed on, and they're willingly offering themselves up of their own volition, because they like it. They can refuse at any time and I'll respect that, isn't that right?).

It's not disillusionment, it's not denial, it's literally just the tiniest of changes on the surface, that have more noticeable impacts the deeper you look at it.

And for those who realize, who become obsessed and paranoid, spiraling into topics that are nothing more than illusive myths and conspiracies, one day they will wake up and realize just how irrational they've been. Believing so deeply in something with so little evidence and so many gaps to jump just to reach those conclusions, it's silly, really. God they've wasted so much time being so scared over nothing.

Does the power even exist at all?

That question is where the horror lies. And I love it.

(Movie inspiration: Little Joe, a movie about a plant that makes people happy. What could ever go wrong with that?) (Warning: if you go to watch it, there's a reoccurring audio motif that sounds like this very loud, shrill, piercing tone. It is a little painful to listen to, and can easily get overstimulating. Be prepared to adjust your volume accordingly.)

[shattermind-8]

"You're not a prisoner. You are our valued guest, nothing more."

"So I can leave then?"

"Absolutely not."

[hurt-the-innocent-ones]

Whump Dialogue Prompts

(Feel free to use but please tag me! I wanna read what you make with these :D) (NSFW under the cut, minors dni)

Whumpee:

“No, stop—shut up, you’re lying! They wouldn’t—they’d never—shut up, shut up, shut up!”

“Please, no…not now. I can’t, please…please just let me rest…”

“Get the fuck away from me! No, don’t—get back—come anywhere near me with that and I swear to God you’ll regret it!”

“You’re fucking delusional if you think for a second I’d ever follow your fucking orders.”

Whumper:

“Hold still or I’ll re-tie those ropes so tight your hands will fall off.”

“If you’d just tell me what I want to hear…”

“This is to make you better, you know that.”

“I knew you were pathetic, but pissing yourself over a little pain is just gross.”

Caretaker:

“Shh, it’s okay. I know, I know it hurts but shh, you need to keep quiet, stay still, it’ll be okay, just calm down…”

“You’re gonna be okay, you hear me? We’ll get you out of here, we’ll fix you up, good as new, I promise. No, don’t try to talk, save your breath.”

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me it was this bad?”

“Fuck, what did they do to you…oh God, you’re awake? No, it’s okay! It’s a good thing, it’s good, you’re doing great. Talk to me, tell me anything, just stay awake. Eyes on me.”

NSFW (TW)

Whumper:

“A pretty thing like you should’ve seen this coming.”

“And here I thought I was fucked up. Are you seriously getting off on this?”

“If I stop, what will you do for me in return?”

Whumpee:

“No, please, not that—please, please no, anything but that, not again!”

“What…wait, what are you doing—no, stop! Stop! I said stop!”

“No…no, you can’t! I’ve never—you sick fucking—wait, wait, please wait, I—you—prep me first, please, I’ll tear, you have to prep me first—”

Caretaker:

“Where are your clothes? Why are you…oh God.”

“Oh God…tell me [Whumper] didn’t…”

“No! No, I’d never—I’m not going to do that. I was just trying to help you change your clothes, remember?”

[whumper-whimsy]

Augusnippets day 1

Gaslighting/Brainwashing/Hypnosis

Content– gaslighting, pet whump, police, hospital.

Whumpee awoke in the night to the sound of sirens. He jumped up, scrambling to the window and looking out. Red and blue lights dazed him, and he pulled away, covering his eyes. The sounds of car doors slamming shut sent him into a frantic kind of panic, and he ran for Whumper's bedroom.

"Sir!" he cried, grabbing the hand that hung off the side. "Sir, wake up! There's sirens, a- and there's lights, and people are here—"

Whumper sat up, sucking in a breath. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, grabbing Whumpee's cheeks. His voice was serious, with a hint of panic creeping through, "Whumpee. The cops are here for me. They are going to take you away from me," Whumper explained, running his right hand through his trembling pet's hair. "I need you to listen. They will try to lie to you, try and fill your head with their words, and convince you I'm a bad guy so that they can send me to jail. You can NOT, under any circumstance, let them get to you, do you understand?"

Whumpee began to tear up, shaking his head frantically. "No, no, why? Why are they taking me?" he cried, grabbing at Whumper's sleeves. "Did I do something bad?"

"No, dear. They— they don't... approve of relationships like ours, see? They'll tell you that I kidnapped you, that I abused you. This is not true. Do you understand me, Whumpee?" Whumper grew more serious.

"What? No, you- you saved me! You trained me to be good! You aren't a kidnapper!" Whumpee blubbered, flinching as hard knocks sounded on the front door. "No, I can't—" he choked on his own words, interrupted by Whumper's steady voice.

"Do you understand, Whumpee?"

Whumpee nodded tearfully, hiding his head between Whumper's knees. He only looked back up when something bumped against his head. He looked up to see his stuffed bunny, which Whumper handed down to him.

There was a bang as the door was knocked down, and footsteps thundered into the house. Whumpee squealed as cops filled the room, guns aimed at Whumper. He ducked down when they began to bark commands, clutching his bunny as he cried.

The cops grabbed Whumper, cuffing him and dragging him away. Whumpee couldn't help but sit up, crying out, "Whumper!"

Two more cops crouched down to grab Whumpee, scooping him up and bringing him towards the door.

As he was brought outside for the first time in years, Whumpee searched frantically for his owner. He caught a glimpse of his face through the barred windows of the cop car's backseat and called out again, only to be hurried into an ambulance.

Whumpee was dimly aware of his bunny being pulled off his chest, of gloved hands easing him onto the stretcher, of machines beeping around him. He seemed to blink, and all of a sudden, he was in a hospital bed with IVs in his arms and his precious bunny at his side again.

A doctor was talking to him, probably— he could see lips moving, but in the haze of the situation, he heard only noises, not words. Whumpee was only thinking about his owner, his poor, poor Whumper in trouble all because of him. Whumpee could only clutch his bunny and cry, inhaling the remnants of Whumper's scent on its dingy fur.

[only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are]

Redwood Psychiatric Institute - Part 2

MASTERLIST - PART 1

Note: Please feel free to send me asks or prompts for this series!

CWs: psychiatric hospital whump, medical gaslighting, noncon drugging, noncon sedation, syringes, ECT mention

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everything hurt. His muscles ached, his head pounded, and his stomach did somersaults. He couldn’t remember what happened, but he knew he must have moved somewhere. His environs were now much brighter white and more sterile - which didn’t help the headache. He couldn’t remember falling asleep, but he felt like he was just now waking up. He was on his back, the padded walls of his new room just barely visible in his wavering vision.

“James.”

He finally realised someone was talking to him. He was only able to move his gaze slowly over to where the voice came from. 

“Are you with me now, James?” Doctor Wilson asked.

He nodded, but he wasn’t quite sure. His brain is too heavily fogged for it to comprehend and protest the issue of his name.

“Good. It’s time for you to have your therapy session. We placed you in this special high-security room. It opens onto a nice treatment-slash-office space.” He gestured to the orderlies standing at one of the walls of the padded cell.

Rowan didn’t respond as the orderlies stepped forward and lifted him to his feet. Doctor Wilson pressed a button on the furthest wall, and the entire padded wall slid up into the ceiling. The orderlies dragged Rowan through into the second room. He didn’t take in the operation table, or the dentist-like chair, or any of the other equipment. They took him to the corner of the room which held a desk and an armchair. Rowan was placed in the armchair, and Doctor Wilson took the desk chair across from his patient.

"Let us begin. Can you tell me where you are?"

Rowan remembered. "Redwood.. the camera.."

"You are in Redwood. But there was no camera. Can you remember your name?"

"Rowan."

"James Lawton." Doctor Wilson corrected. "And my name is Doctor Wilson."

"No.." Rowan's face is pale as he begins to piece his thoughts together. 

"Do you remember how you got out of the institute, when you wandered around?"

He couldn't think. He didn't understand. 

"How did you escape?"

He didn't escape. He knew that much. But how did he know that? There was something he was missing..

James? Are you with me?" Doctor Wilson peers at Rowan's face. "It seems our current treatment plan isn't working. I think soon we'll try a course of ECT - Electro-Convulsive Therapy."

After that, they dragged him back to his room to sleep off the medication. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For several days, he was woken up, force-fed his medication, dragged to the next room for therapy, and then dragged back. Each time he resisted the medication, Doctor Wilson became more and more agitated. The next time he was roused, Doctor Wilson entered the room with the orderlies and Nurse Dean. Nurse Dean held his usual tray of medication cups. 

"This is your last chance. If you don't take your medications, it's going to be injections." Doctor Wilson warned.

Nurse Dean offered the wax paper cup to Rowan. It was labelled James Lawton. As Rowan accepted the cup, he frowned.

"That's.. not. MY. NAME." He growled, throwing the cup full of pills to the floor. 

Doctor Wilson's face went red. "That's it."

He gestured furiously to the orderlies, who swept forward and grabbed Rowan by the arms. He screamed, trying to yank his arms away. His coordination was poor, inhibited by the drugs they'd been forcing him to take. With one, most desperate tug, he pulled his arms free of the orderlies and raced for the door. He shoved his shoulder into it, and he burst through. He was out. The white halls spanned away from the room like the tunnels of a rabbit warren. He heard their shouts, but he didn't listen, lunging forward into the mess of hallways and sprinted as fast and hard as his wobbly legs would take him. He ducked behind a corner, watching some of his pursuers lost his trail and ran off. He slunk down another hallway, coming to a stop as he saw a door left ajar. He could see vibrant flickers of orange and red and yellow at the back of the room.

Curious, he stepped into the room. There was a figure with his back to Rowan, standing at a furnace. In large, mitt-like gloves, he pulled open the door of the furnace and reached for one of the two objects on the table beside him. It was a large, square-like black object. Puzzled, Rowan continued watching. It was only as the figure placed the object into the flames that he realised what it was.

My camera!

He watched in stunned silence as his beloved Cannon EOS 1500D DSLR camera began to melt, flames licking up the metal and plastic like a delicious meal.

The figure picked up the other object - Rowan's ID card - and placed it into the furnace too, and then closed the door.

Arms grabbed ahold of Rowan from behind, knocking him out of his stupour. The figure didn't move from the furnace.

"NO! YOU LIED! YOU LIED!" Rowan screamed, lunging for the figure. "YOU FUCKING ASSHOLES!"

The orderlies in their white scrubs swarmed around him.

"James, calm down."

"Everything's okay."

"STOP BURNING MY THINGS. YOU CAN'T KEEP ME HERE, MAKING ME YOUR PRISONER AND DRUGGING ME SENSELESS!!!" He screeched, jabbing his finger at the figure in front of the furnace. "GIVE ME BACK MY THINGS, RIGHT NOW!"

At this, the orderlies exchanged glances. Their expressions made Rowan's blood boil.

"James.. there's no one there." A young female orderly said, her tone sickeningly gentle and polite.

An older woman took over. "Yeah, there's no one there. Why don't you take a breath and-"

"NO! GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!!!" He yelled, fear and anger spurring him on. He tried to lunge from their grasp, but this time, they held him fast.

He was eased to the floor, where he continued kicking and screaming. Two large, burly orderlies pinned his arms and legs to the cold linoleum floor. He tried to keep thrashing even as they pulled down his pants and underpants, exposing his bottom. The young woman pulled a syringe from her pocket and uncapped it as she approached.

"Stay still, James. It'll hurt less." The burly orderly to his right, the man, tried in a friendly tone."

He didn't care. They weren't going to drug him, not again, not-

It really hurt as the orderly drove the syringe into the muscle of his bottom and injected the drug. She pulled the syring out, and the others thankfully pulled his pants back up. He was too weak to resist them any longer, but the orderlies didn't realease him, not yet. They pulled him to his feet, the world already spinning as they began half-dragging, half-carrying him down the hall. The last thing he saw before the darkness pulled him under was Doctor Wilson, standing at the end of the hallway with his arms crossed, waiting for his patient to be returned.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @jazatronasmr @onthishamsterwheel @bumpthumpwhump @whatiswhump @jancameforthewhump

[sufrimientilia]

"It’s not as bad as it looks."

Bite | Swelling | Disfiguration @juneofdoom Day 5

cw: broken ankle, hypnosis, vampire whumper, hypnotized whumpee, see above

“It’s not as bad as it looks.”

Thrall sat hunched over at the base of the stairs, big round tears leaking from those big round eyes. “But I think- I think it’s broken.”

“Don’t be silly.” Vampire descended towards him, regal with every motion. So unlike their precious thrall, always clumsy and uncoordinated. One pale hand slid down the banister. “You aren’t that fragile, are you?”

“I’m… I’m sorry, Master,” Thrall gasped out. His ankle definitely looked broken— it was so disfigured his foot twisted the wrong fucking way, and it hurt. It hurt so bad. It was the type of white-hot agony that caught at his breath and made everything spin, fire and needles all over his foot, so desperate to not even move out of fear of making it worse. “I didn’t mean to- I- I didn’t mean…”

“I know, I know. You got yourself all worked up, and now look at you.” Vampire loomed over him, a tall dark presence so imposing it was dizzying. His master always had the same effect— the kind that made everything distort around the edges with the catch of his gravitational pull, like Vampire’s proximity alone made it harder to focus and harder to breathe. Everything blurred as a cold hand came to rest on his head. “Poor thing, tripping down the stairs like that. You really should be more careful.”

It was as easy as that, rewriting impatient shoves into clumsy missteps, soothing away barely contained fear into helplessness. Vampire never hurt him; Vampire was here to help him, take care of him. Tears leaked off Thrall’s chin as a faraway look swept across his face. “I… I fell…”

“Such a klutz.” Vampire stroked a finger down Thrall’s temple. The dizzy feeling intensified. “Maybe you shouldn’t be going up and down the stairs without me, hmm? So dangerous for a human. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

Thrall, glassy-eyed and numbed, gave a curt nod. When he looked at the stairs again, they stretched out before him— impossible and endless, going up and up and up. So very, very scary. He clung close to Vampire as they scooped him up into their impossibly slender arms, gasping as his disfigured foot left the ground. “Ahh-! It- it hurts.”

“Poor thing,” Vampire cooed. Thrall was practically weightless in their grasp, and they carried him down the corridor to a dimly lit room with plush furniture. Thrall gasped again when he was laid across the cushions. “There you are. You should rest now. I’ll help you feel better.”

It wasn’t like Thrall was given much of a choice about it. The dull thrum along the bowl of his skull intensified, everything churning until there was just warmth and syrup melting through his veins. It was easy to forget about the agony of his ankle as it gave way to a numb sort of throbbing, still disfigured and swollen and screaming somewhere far, far away, but conveniently tucked just out of his sight. He melted like putty. “Mmn…”

Thrall’s breath caught at the sharp pain suddenly piercing his neck. Vampire fed gently, indulgent but not greedy, gentle and cautious despite the damage already done. Sometimes a little bit of hurt just added some flavor. But now Thrall didn’t hurt at all, heat and warmth blossoming all over, eyes glazing and rolling until they couldn’t stay open at all. Paralyzed into the depths of bliss as a cold slender tongue lapped and lapped and lapped.

His ankle didn’t get set until hours later, when it was so swollen the task was nearly impossible. He blacked out for most of it and screamed for the rest. At least he had Vampire around to help him, to rub his shoulders and nuzzle his neck, to make it all feel better. His master always took such good care of him.

[defire]

Gaslit whumpee things

Content: things gaslit people actually say (I'm slightly disturbed honestly)

Rubbing the bridge of their nose trying to wrap their head around whumper's doublespeak

"no no, I... I get that you have to punish me, but aren't you overreacting a little--" "OVerReACTing?!"

Whumpee crying. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I don't know how to fix it, please punish me if that will make it better, i just want to be better "

"I'm sorry i hurt you. I know it's wrong to fight back." --whumpee

"I'm sorry I had to hurt you. Please never make me do that again."

"Forgive me, please, you know I'm stupid, I don't know any better," whumpee kowtowing in tears.

Whumpee insisting that they're grateful so whumper doesn't take it away. Whumper grinning slyly, "i don't know, you've been acting a little entitled lately..."

[whumpybobbert]

[a-whumped-tea]

Got caught trying to escape by your captor? Gaslight them!

"And where do you think you're goin-"

"Oh my god, Whumper, I've been looking for you everywhere!!"

"...What?"

"You had me worried sick!! Do not make me worry like that again, Whumper. Do you realize how hard it was to get out of those chains?? Do you?? I scraped up my hands getting out of them!! Do you have any idea what could have happened if I hadn't gotten out?? I could have died from worry and it would have been all your fault!!"

"......Huh?"

"I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed."