#Dr stockill

[look-a-yandere-fandom-blog]

I would like something (hcs or else, whatever you can make out of it/feel like writing) for Dr. Stockill and a darling who is not eating.

Eiter because they decided to hunger strike as a form of protesting against him (totally terrible idea but not every darling is the sharpest tool in the shed heheh...) or because they are sick and that makes it hard for them/takes away apetite.

Hunger Pains | Headcanons

Dr. Stockill / Gender Neutral Reader

Fandom: The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls.

No Spoilers.

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Ambiguous yan - can be read as platonic or romantic.

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Content Warning: Hunger strikes, disordered eating, illness, brief mention of force feeding, brief mentions of animal/human death.

(If there’s anything else I need to add to these warnings, please let me know.)

Tysm for the ask anon! <3 I hope that this lives up to your request/expectations!!

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- It doesn’t take Stockill long to notice they’ve stopped eating.

- In the months, maybe years, that Stockill has known them, they have never displayed an avoidance of food to this degree.

- Despite his detachment, disgust, and apathy to almost everything around him, he is an observant man. Especially when it comes to his darling.

- Within a few days, the interrogations start.

- He begins questioning his darling; and the longer he goes without an answer, the more insistent he becomes...

- "Don't lie to me, I know something is wrong with you."

- Once he finally manages to get an explanation out of them, he's bewildered.

- This odd behaviour is out of spite? Some silly protest against him?

- Stockill believes that he treats his darling rather well, at least in comparison to the other inmates he oversees.

- His darling is given decent food and drink; dressed in clothes that keep out the asylum's chilling cold; and is kept close to the doctor whenever possible.

- Stockill even allows them to rest in the safety of his room, in his own bed (which is often unused due to his frequent neglect of sleep).

- And yet, they still fight him?

- They would prefer the bleak darkness of the asylum's wards, accompanied by nothing but filthy rats and those wretched whores, over staying with him?

- Even going so far as to starve themselves, just to prove a point?

- His darling begins to deteriorate... day by day. Their movements becoming slower, their thoughts foggier, their gaze more distant. All despite his attempts to reason with them.

- As he tries to rationalise it, his confusion gives way to anger.

- Convinced that his darling's behaviour must have been instigated by another, threats soon follow.

- "I swear, if you do not stop this idiotic demonstration... I will find whichever inmate placed the idea in your head, and I will make her suffer!"

- From here, there's only two ways that it can end:

- In one, his darling ceases their little hunger strike, giving into the doctor's demands. Whereupon things will return to how they were, and Stockill will limit their contact with others even more as a precaution.

- In the other ending, his darling continues. Until Stockill does something...

- Drastic.

- But, he would rather not resort to something as vile as force feeding, or harming their companions to threaten them into relenting...

- So, it would be wise for his darling to stop. After all, they don't want to have their friends' blood on their hands... do they?

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- Alternatively, if his darling’s lack of appetite is a result of sickness or some other affliction, he’s more…

- Well, he's not exactly sympathetic, but perhaps more understanding.

- Now, this is a problem for him to solve, a condition to be alleviated.

- He quickly sets himself to work: to find a cure for whatever is ailing them.

- There's a sudden influx of dead rats (and eventually dead patients) scattered throughout his laboratory, all in his attempt to cure this illness.

- But, with the limitations of victorian medicine, there's a good chance that Stockill's ventures will remain fruitless.

- If the illness becomes long-term, or is some in fact some incurable/chronic condition, then Stockill will continue to seek for ways to lessen it.

- All the while, he will focus on keeping his darling healthy; maybe even neglecting his plague research until he is confident that their condition is stable.

- They won't be leaving Stockill's room for a long while... As he will insist they remain bedbound to avoid the affliction worsening.

- He would try to encourage his darling's appetite with more pleasant food than the asylum typically provides.

- "I recall you mentioning this dish. Something you enjoyed before you were sent... here."

- The costs for which are taken from the asylum's funds... but that is of no matter to him. His darling takes upmost priority.

- "Also, don't attempt to smuggle some to the other patients again. Yes, yes, I saw that. You are not nearly as sly as you think you are."

- He's almost considerate in this state.

- It's eerie.

- Incredibly eerie.

- But, all things considered, it's far from the worst situation his darling could be in.

- And as they fall asleep, curled up in Stockill's bed, the doctor watching them with a hawk-like gaze...

- They see the ever so faint, ever so unnatural, twist of his lips.

- A smile.

- "I will see you tomorrow, my dear..."

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#dr. stockill #yandere #yandere blog #tw yandere #the asylum for wayward victorian girls #yandere x reader #tafwvg #montmorency stockill #yandere doctor #dr stockill #yandere dr stockill #male yandere #anon ask

[the-ophelia-gallery]

Spoilers for The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls

Thinking about Dr. Stockill and Emily's dynamic.

She hates him, he feels nothing towards her. To her, his death would mark freedom and safety for her fellow inmates. To him, her death would mark the success of his life's work. They detest being near the other. They know one another better than anyone else. She notes how she converses with him more than any other person. He recognises her as the closest thing he has to a companion. They fascinate each other, they bewilder each other, they terrify each other. She will kiss him as she stabs a sharpened spoon into his back, and he'll stare back with horror.

They're just -

ajhdiewjfweklalksfkoewufioklsak

#the asylum for wayward victorian girls #emilie autumn #emily with a y #emily with no last name #montmorency stockill #dr stockill #tafwvg #rambles

[saytrrose]

THE FREAKSHOW SHOWTIME SONG CHAT

@hootbon @sm-baby

#sorry for tagging yall I just can’t do it ask form rn sjjsksksn #I hope you don’t mind !! #Spotify

[suzukiblu]

Nothing (Dr. Stockill, Emily) by Emilie Autumn for the parasite wip

Gave me eerie vibes of a potential of the parasites pov

Clark’s done impossible things in his life, but none of them ever felt as impossible as finding the words to fix this. 

He can’t even imagine what could. 

“I should have gone to the effort to bring the kryptonite,” Damian mutters darkly. Dick snorts, which means the kid definitely did bring kryptonite. Clark doesn’t blame him, considering.

“Shut up, Damian,” Jon mutters back, and then opens the car door. Krypto pounces him in his seat in excitement, barking happily. “Ack–Krypto! What’s gotten into you?!” 

As far as Clark remembers, he saw Jon just a few days ago. 

The lanky-looking twelve year-old trying to get out of the back of Bruce’s car right now would very clearly disagree.

#anonymous #wip: the parasite

[theminecraftbox]

My Roman Empire is the “Nothing” Awesamdream song because it fits so perfectly and I really can’t explain it in words. You’d just have to listen to it

Full disclosure that I wasn’t terribly familiar with this musical and that at first I thought you were referencing A Chorus Line and got confused. Further disclaimer that this opinion is based on me reading a plot summary and listening to one song.

But tbh to me this song seems not super close to the c!awesamdream dynamic? Dr. Stockill hates women and so experiments on many of them to purge their weakness or what have you, and seems fascinated that Emily is an exception, is not weak. He’s trying in some ways to convince himself that she is like the rest. Their connection, such as he feels it, is based on a routine attempt to break her that has become something other than routine because it doesn’t seem to be succeeding. He’s cold and jaded because he’s tortured and killed so many victims, and he feels a glimmer of something with this particular person because she’s not going down as easily as the rest. I don’t get a sense that he thinks she’s, like—threatening, so much as interesting.

Whereas I’d argue the situation with c!Sam and c!Dream is in some senses an inverse: c!Sam’s only prisoner is c!Dream. c!Sam’s only responsibility is breaking c!Dream, not for his belief in c!Dream’s fundamental inferiority as a person, but because of the near opposite: because he thinks Dream is too strong, too powerful, and needs to be subdued. Sam has never believed Dream is like any others—Dream is uniquely evil and uniquely capable, which has always been the crux of how he relates to Dream in the prison. Sam’s fascination with Dream doesn’t necessarily stem from Dream’s obstinance so much as it does from his abiding belief in Dream’s power.

Sorry to be a contrarian haha.

#that being said this song kinda slaps #c!awesamdream #i think someone’s sent me an ask about this song before #it’s not that I think every song needs to fit one to one #like hellfire certainly doesn’t either #but I do think it’s pretty important to the dynamic that a) Dream is Sam’s chief/near-only victim and #b) Sam believes in the inherent power of Dream’s wickedness #if that makes sense

[tgshydestan]

ok i know i post about tgs but on the off chance any of you have watched the owl house. THIS FUCKING SONG. THIS FUCKING SONG IS EXACTLY HUNTER AND BELOS. DR STOCKILL IS BELOS AND EMILY IS HUNTER. JUST LISTEN. JUST LISTEN. its also a good song in general so just listen.

#the owl house #toh #hunter #belos #the asylum for wayward victorian girls #spotify #music #Spotify

[wondertwinsenthusiast]

Why is Nothing (dr. stockill, emily) by Emilie Autumn from The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls is kind of Slade Wilson and Dick Grayson. Someone back me up on this the vision is so clear.

#slade wilson #deathstroke #dick grayson #nightwing #renegade #robin #emilie autumn #The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls #idk yall #i blame tiktok #it's 2am #somebody sedate me

[ty-bayonet-betteridge]

[knocks on door] opinions on Nothing (Dr Stockill, Emily) by Emilie Autumn as a Bonesaw and Riley song?

EXCELLENT. added to the bonesaw playlist (and about a dozen other playlists mostly about various ships but shhhh)

#asks #wormblr #parahumans #worm spoilers #riley davis #riley grace davis #bonesaw

[archduke-enver-gortash]

👾 did I send this already? Fuck if I know I just love sending asks

another one for the gort for you!

“And he cast his web so prodigiously wide, That he snared the whole sniveling world inside” the mastermind behind the schemes holding the strings!!!!!

“But that’s all for the best, Puts the terror in the rest” this motif of instilling fear in people, utterly controlling the masses.

“And the spider sees how to bring them all in line, How to keep them very quiet, how to herd the swine” fitting with how he sees himself as a shepherd guiding. helping. just making the hard decisions no one else is ambitious enough to pursue to keep the cattle in line. cattle/swine because he doesn’t see people as more than that. mindless animals that need his guidance. or the whip, if they choose to disobey.

“But it’s not the gold, and it’s not the fame, It’s the fear the fools are feeling when they praise his name” AH! love this line for him. because for him it IS not about riches or fame in the end. they’re extremely useful assets yes but he truly sees himself as the only one capable of leading the world into a brighter future. AND the fear part of course. so good. he relishes in being feared. no gold or notoriety could compare to the feeling of instilling terror in those who dare to defy him. and even those who don’t. :)

“For he knows when all humanity, For centuries to come envisions God, They will see the spider’s face!” self-explanatory. doing what he does to baldur’s gate to conquer it is worth it, is necessary because the masses finally realize his brilliance. mans absolutely creamed his pants when he read that baldur’s mouth copy which called him the second coming of balduran. (of course it’s only a step in the right direction, his glory will make people forget balduran all together.)

#this got long but you how normal i am about him lol #thank you for the ask!! #todderwodders #enver gortash #gortash #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 spoilers

[n0brainjustvibes]

i don't know if this is what you intended when you recommended it but every time Nothing comes up on the bonesaw playlist my brain imagines a really cool animatic where Bonesaw gets the dr. stockill lines and Riley gets the emily lines. sadly i cant draw let alone animate. life is very hard

YEAH!! that's exactly it! albeit I imagined a flashback switch up where Jack gets the Dr Stockill lines between "let's play our game" and "is that a threat"

#i had a whole script in my notes app #using the reflections in the cloning tubes to represent riley at the start and bonesaw at the end or something #riley davis #I'll see if i can find it later #asks

[waywardvictorianconfessions]

I’m pretty new to EA’s work, but as soon as i hit play on Opheliac i could immediately tell that her work was for people like me. The female insanity, the Victorian vibes, the musical; as problematic EA and her fanbase can be, I’m still happy i’ve found this place.

also i think Adam Pascal fucking killed it as Dr. Stockill.

#wayward victorian confessions #faerie admin

[look-a-yandere-fandom-blog]

Ophelia's Flowers.

Dr. Stockill / Gender Neutral Reader

Fandom: The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls.

No Spoilers.

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Ambiguous yan - can be read as platonic or romantic.

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Content Warning: Reader is gender neutral but is ‘feminine’ in appearance/attire; detailed as having long hair and wearing a dress.

Please proceed with caution if such descriptions may make you uncomfortable/dysphoric.

(If there’s anything else I need to add please let me know.)

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“There’s rosemary, that’s for remembrance.”

Thin herbal leaves speckled by soft purple flowers join the wreath that lies upon your head.

“Pray you, love, remember.”

The doctor’s thin lips echo the immortal words of Shakespeare, whispered under his breath. The office is eerily silent and it let you hear every syllable.

“And there is pansies, that’s for thoughts…”

Indigo and yellow petals are laid in your hair. Tucked amongst the braids woven with a tenderness unfound in this damned building.

“There’s fennel for you, and columbines.”

The Ophelia Gallery has returned. One of the asylum’s yearly ventures: a show for the masses, or perhaps a warning to all the women who are just one misstep away from being thrown in to it. Locked away for some pitifully small offence.

“There’s rue for you, and here’s some for me.”

The little yellow specks on thin green stalks are added to the adornment. Stockill’s fingertips are wrapped around the stem; placing it carefully behind your ear.

“We may call it 'herb of grace' o' Sundays.”

Dr Stockill’s spindly fingertips curl around another stem, snapping it with the swiftness of a guillotine. He slides it into his waistcoat pocket, beside the stem of wilting violets.

“- Oh, you must wear your rue with a difference.”

A pair of nails presses into the skin under your chin, while the fingers they belong to tilt your head slowly. Dark eyes scan over his work; an artist searching for a spot on his canvas to add another stroke of colour.

"There’s a daisy. I would give you some violets,"

At the mention of those flowers, your gaze darts down to the wilting purple flowers in his waistcoat.

"But they withered all when my siste-"

Your eyes flick up; meeting his abyssal stare.

He pauses, before calmly correcting himself. The alteration smooth enough for the mistake to be ignored. Yet, it did not escape your notice.

"But they withered all when my father died."

He concludes his speaking as The Mad Ophelia, the illusion of her visage shedding from his voice. In her place, the true persona of The Callous Doctor Stockill.

With the silence of the room restored, you stand from your chair, assuming that this is your cue to leave. To join your fellow inmates outside in the crude display of the Ophelia Gallery.

But you barely take a few strides before you hear-

"I did not grant you permission to leave." The doctor's stern voice cloaks the sound of your footsteps.

In an instant, you stop in your tracks. You do not have the courage to turn around; do not have the courage to meet his eyes again.

As your nervous hands twirl and twist the overgrown strands of hair on your head, one of the flowers falls to the floor. Despite its weightlessness, the thud of it hitting the wooden planks is agonising.

Internally, you curse yourself. The cursing turns to anxiety. Anxiety to panic.

Racing thoughts worsen with every step the doctor takes towards you. Until he is directly behind you. His shadow blanketing your form.

"You will not be going out there." Stockill states calmly, while his spider-like manoeuvres return the fallen flower to its rightful place.

"Why not..?" The question leaves your lips before you can think to stop it.

There is a second of stillness.

"You are in no position to ask." The doctor replies firmly. He is the superintendent of this Asylum. He does not need to justify himself to a mere patient.

But soon, he takes a breath, admission bubbling in his throat. He wishes to confess with the fervour of a sinner to a priest. The words like a river battering against a breaking dam.

"Those people out there... the weak, depraved, people of this city... they do not deserve to look upon this."

The doctor divulges, his voice is quieter than you have ever heard it. His hands place themselves upon your shoulders, slowly turning you to face him. He is puzzled by his own wish to admit this all... but he does not have the will to stop himself.

"The women would be disconcerted and disgusted by you, while the men would care only for what lay beneath your robes." He continues as the light of the room hits your skin and illuminates his work.

His expression twitches ever so slightly, in what seems to be anger. Or maybe disgust? You wonder whether that look is directed at you, the people he was describing, or himself.

"And so, you will stay here." The doctor announces, his normal volume flaring up like a violent breeze. It nearly makes you jump.

"Here?" you repeat.

"Here. In my office. Or perhaps my laboratory should I need to venture down there." Stockill clarifies, a touch of irritation is his typically vacuous tone.

"Am I understood?"

The man's question is hardly that: a question. Instead, it is an extension of his command. A rhetorical statement, demanding compliance.

And, with a small nod in response, you comply.

The doctor's hands loosen their hold on your shoulders. You hadn't realised how harshly his nails were biting into your skin; forming dents in the fabric of your dress.

"Good." Dr. Stockill comments coldly. Yet, somehow, there's a touch of approval laced within.

After taking a final glance over your features; the ghostly white dress that hangs over your figure; and the flowers laden in your hair; he lets go. The creaking noise of wooden floorboards resounds as he leaves your side.

"Now, I have to fetch some supplies from elsewhere. Necessities for my work. I will be back shortly." He informs as he straightens the cuffs on his shirt. Stockill's earlier anger and disgust are replaced by an eerie calm, like vines covering a building; hiding it away, as though it had never existed in the first place.

The hinges cry with a mouse-ish squeak as the door opens, the doctor disappearing into the asylum's labyrinth of corridors.

He leaves the door unlocked.

It lay ajar. The latch not clicked into place. A move too foolish to be made by the precise and meticulous physician.

It leaves you with one conclusion: this is a test.

The door taunts you. Tugs on your sleeves. Nags you to leave... Urges you to run from this room, to the company and sanctuary of the other inmates, far from the constricting grasp of the doctor's web...

But, despite your fear, you remain.

You sit back down upon your chair.

You adjust the petals he laid in your hair.

And you listen to the muffled sounds of the Ophelia Gallery outside.

As you wait for him to return.

Just as the doctor knew you would.

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#Dr stockill #Montmorency stockill #Yandere doctor #yandere #male yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #Yandere dr. stockill #the asylum for wayward victorian girls #tafwvg #dr. stockill

[tsuvvy]

Imagine right before David puts the serum into reader’s system , they start crying, maybe just even shed one tear, just one emotion, one thing they can control because they don’t know the next time they can feel, to be in control once the serum is back into their system

I started reading and I was like "okay okay"

and I kept reading and realized how deep and poetic that was and I covered my mouth..

I remember what song I based the serum off of. It was for an oc that kind of got out of my hands a bit. I had heard this song

and I fell in love and knew I wanted to kind of.. Base it on something and write it a bit!

[saytrrose]

I thought about how Borage would kill someone when writing his character breakdown, and honestly I don't believe he'd ever ACTUALLY fight head-on.

He'd probably just drug the person he wants dead, and then wait until they get too weak to fight back.

Borage is a bit of a rat, unfortunately 😔

Borage isn’t a rat, Borage is smart.

Saves him less time and effort! Good for him.

Here’s a Borage song.

#nightingale garden au

[pocketsizedquasar]

💖🎥for the fic asks! :3

Ask Game

💖 Which of your fics is your pride and joy?

of the published fics, def gole sangam :3 and also the 1001 nights au

and also always always always i adore my pair of ish/qq fics of each of their perspectives waxing poetic about each other

🎥 Pick a fic and I'll tell you the song I imagine playing during its movie trailer.

(i double checked to clarify which ones u wanted me to do)

time & tide (starbuck kills ahab in 'the musket' au):

the executioner's within me and he comes blindfold ready / sword in hand and arms so steady

honorable mention for:

the storyteller & the poet (tma 1001 nights au):

the spider & the eye (jon&annabelle childhood friends au):

#ask game #ask meme #ask #quasartalks #coulson-is-an-avenger

[awanderingcatharsis]

not to be like that but this song is Lambda. BTW

#tpn norman #tpn #the promised neverland #lambda 7214 #Spotify