#discussion of torture tw

[another-whump-sideblog]

Jane's Pets Chapter 92: Powerful

TWs in the tags

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At first, you and Kitty thought Jane was forgetting to drug Kitty, but it quickly became obvious it's very intentional. It's been three days since their last dose and they are definitely feeling the effects.

Jane takes them down into the basement every day. She sees how bad they're doing, she sees the withdrawal. She knows, and she's doing this on purpose. And Kitty is overjoyed.

They tried to hide how happy they were at first, worried that if they showed how much they preferred withdrawal to being drugged Jane would go back to drugging them regularly. But even when they slipped up, she didn't seem to care. Kitty thinks she's waiting for it to get bad enough that they beg for the drug, and that she'll be waiting a long time.

"I mean, withdrawal only gets worse for so long, right? And if this had a risk of killing me, or at least a higher risk than the other stuff Jane does, she wouldn't do it, cause that would be too painless of a way to die. So I have until she realizes that I'm not going to beg for it, which can be quite a while if I play my cards right, maybe exaggerate how bad it is… she probably wouldn't fall for that, especially now that I've said it out loud, but still!"

They're the happiest you've seen them in a long time. Since before you left with Barron, Diya, and Ray, actually…

Unfortunately, that doesn't mean they're doing well. It just shows how absolutely miserable they were while being drugged that this is preferable.

You don't think Kitty has been still once in these past few days, at least ever since the last remnants of the drug left their system. They are constantly shaking, constantly moving, mumbling to themself whenever they're not talking to you. They've been assigned two buckets by you and Puppy, one to carry around for when they throw up and one for when that one is being cleaned. If either of you touches Kitty at all they completely flip out, screaming about how no one respects them, no one cares about what they want and everyone just touches them for their own selfish gratification, caring more about appearing to be comforting than what they actually want-

And despite it all, they insist that this is better than being drugged. That they hope the withdrawal lasts a long time so they get longer to be themself.

You can't help but agree. They have more moments of misery, but more moments of joy too. You would like to help them slowly wean off the drug, to not have to deal with these symptoms while still coming back to themself, but that's not an option. Out of two very shitty options, this one is ever so slightly better.

You try to ignore the obvious: there's no light at the end of this tunnel. When the withdrawal symptoms get better, they'll be put back on the drug and back to freaking out about if they're even a person instead of freaking out over being touched. But that's okay. You'll be taking a sledgehammer to the walls of this metaphorical tunnel soon enough.

You're thinking about it all the time. If you could get some kind of weapon inside of her body, something that could destroy her over and over again so that even with instant healing she can't hurt anybody, and she wouldn't be able to teleport it out…

But you don't have anything like that. And to cast a spell that continues forever would have a high cost, you're sure. You'd be willing to pay almost any price, but you think you should explore your other options first. Preparing a spell like that would take a long time, and you want to get out of here as soon as possible.

You need to know why she's immortal. Maybe you could convince Jane to tell you? She did say that if you think you can figure out a way to kill her that she hasn't already tried, you should tell her…

Jane is powerful, but so are you, and it's only a matter of time before you find a way to get rid of her. Next time she's around, you'll ask her. What's the worse that could happen? 

~~

Puppy is near sick with worry about Kitty. They're only getting worse. Before, she could stomach it, even though it was awful, because Kitty was themself and choosing not to beg for the drug. She thinks she would choose differently, but that's okay. Kitty's allowed to be different, and if this is what they prefer she'll do her best to keep them safe while it's happening.

Except they just had a seizure and that's fucking dangerous and Master might actually kill them this time, what the hell is she thinking??

When the fever first started Puppy was worried, but still willing to respect their wishes. But they just keep getting more and more confused, and then they had a seizure, and that's not okay, she can't let this keep happening!

She briefly considers taking off her muzzle and collar just to tell Ja- Master that this isn't okay, that she can't let Kitty kill themself because they're having this battle of wills, but then she thinks of the last time she spoke without permission to save Kitty's life, of burning hot barbed wire all over her body, and she just… can't. Master said if she spoke without permission again, she would never see Kitty again. And speaking without permission is the whole reason she's muzzled and not even allowed to hum anymore. No, she can't do that. 

So what can she do? Kitty is going to die without this drug. She can't let that happen, even if it would end their suffering, because she's too selfish. She can't let them die.

Bunny is terrified too. They'd agreed to have Puppy watch Kitty tonight since she doesn't have permission to sleep, with Bunny sleeping on the floor by Kitty's bed in case Puppy needed any help. And fuck, if he hadn't been there, if she hadn't been able to shake him awake to see what was happening, no one else would know about the seizure. She wouldn't be able to tell anyone. 

"She's not taking them into the basement today." Bunny says, his eyes dark. As if he has any control over that. He's so angry lately, responding to scary things with threats and promises he has no chance of keeping. It's going to get him in trouble. Anger is only a liability here. But she has bigger things than that to worry about right now.

She needs Kitty to beg for the medicine. That's the only way Master will give it to them, and therefore the only way for them to survive. She grabs their face, forcing them to look at her, and then mimes taking a pill.

They stare at her blankly, rubbing their face where she grabbed them.

"I think Puppy wants you to start taking the pills again." Bunny says softly. Puppy nods in confirmation, pleading with her eyes. Please, I can't watch you die. I can't lose you.

"No!"

Without thinking, Puppy strikes them across the face. Bunny and Kitty stare at her in shocked horror.

It doesn't matter. They can hate her, it doesn't matter, so long as Kitty's alive. She mimes taking a pill again.

"'m sorry." Kitty mumbles. "Didn't know- didn't know she told you to make me. If I'd known I wouldn't have…" I wouldn't have made you have to hit me.

Bunny reaches out and takes her hand. "Right, you wouldn't have done that if you didn't have to. We understand."

Puppy forces down a twinge of guilt. That's useless here. She did the right thing, because now Kitty is going to beg for the pills and survive and that's all that matters. That's all that matters.

She continues to take care of Kitty until sunlight starts to come through the window and Master comes to take them downstairs.

"Please… please give me my medicine."

"Hm?"

Tears run down Kitty's cheeks. "Please, I want the withdrawal to end, I want you to drug me again, please."

Master grins. "Well of course! All you had to do was ask."

She comes to Kitty's side and gives them the pill. Puppy is so relieved she could cry.

"Now, we still have our project to work on-"

"Jane." Oh no. Bunny's going to do something stupid. "Can I talk to you in private for a moment?"

Master raises her eyebrows. "For a moment."

She walks out of the room instead of teleporting, and Bunny follows her.

They walk far enough away that she can't eavesdrop through the door, and she doesn't want to leave Kitty alone, so she doesn't know what Bunny and Master are talking about. Probably Bunny's insistence that Kitty won't go in the basement today.

Kitty has buried their face in their pillow, crying softly as they wait for the drug to kick in. Puppy has more trouble forcing the guilt down, this time.

She did what she had to do. She did…

It felt good. Horrible, but good too. She felt… powerful.

This is a dangerous habit to start. She hates herself so much it threatens to consume her, and she can't push it down no matter how hard she tries. She did what she had to. She didn't do because she thought it would feel good, she did it to keep Kitty alive. She did what she had to.

She grabs a pillow from Kitty's bed and joins them, trying to keep her crying quiet enough that it won't set off the collar.

A/N: Let me know if I should tag anything else, or if you want to be added to or removed from the tag list! Five more chapters before the start of season 4 :)

Tag list: @eatyourdamnpears @whump-in-the-closet @scp-1296 @thecosmicmap @quins-whump-stuff

@fuckcapitalismasshole

#whump #whump writing #whumpblr #intimate whumper #creepy whumper #nonhuman whumper #multiple whumpees #pet whump #whumpee #whumper #whump caretaker #3rd person pov #2nd person pov #drugging tw #withdrawl tw #whumpee has a seizure #abuse between friends tw #discussion of torture tw #jane’s pets

[thatgirl4815]

KP & VP Parallels║

& Perpendiculars ⟂

I finally decided to make a meta about the parallels in the relationships between KP and VP. If there’s anything I’ve left out or that anyone would like to add, please jump in! I get in the weeds a little here (big shocker there), but this is my attempt to address some similarities and differences in these relationships. (I’m not addressing KimChay much here because it feels on a whole different planet to these other mafia dynamics.) 

First Kisses

I can already visualize the bewildered looks. How, how, can these kisses compare? I’m going to break this down in as many ways as I can. I really wish I could make a Venn diagram on here, but alas, I will just have to make a list. 

1) Kinn and Vegas - Anyone can see that Vegas and Kinn are not in the same position here for a lot of reasons. Vegas is a captor and a torturer. Though he has a tragic cause for his unhinged-ness, he’s still that: unhinged. Despite this, there are some interesting similarities between Kinn and Vegas. For one, both characters initiate their kisses. For another--and I really like this about them--both kisses are not sexually motivated. I can’t be the only one who thought we’d be getting very passionate hate-sex between KP before the show came out. But in all three relationships, the first kisses have been tender. Notice how I said kisses and not other things, because at least for one of these relationships, the initial interaction was the complete opposite of tender.

2) Porsche and Pete - There are some pretty major differences between Porsche and Pete’s situations here, but on a more basic level, I think they overlap. Porsche accepts Kinn's kiss, but he’s drunk enough that he doesn’t remember it the next morning. Pete is sober, but he’s badly wounded; for a while there, it even looks like he’s on death’s door. Both Porsche and Pete are (primarily) motivated to accept these kisses by forces outside of their own control. When Kinn kisses him, Porsche is living in a blissful, drunken haze. When Vegas kisses Pete, he’s too sickly, shocked, and confused to resist. **I also want to note that while he doesn’t push Vegas away, he doesn’t kiss back. He only lays there, shocked by the sudden tenderness (not unlike many of us, I imagine).  

I don’t want to argue that there are no feelings behind these kisses, because for Porsche at least, it’s pretty clear that he feels a romantic pull to Kinn. But there is a level of susceptibility at play that’s impossible to overlook. 

Sexual Advances

I have to hesitate on this one a bit, because torture and SA/dub-con are two very sensitive topics that I don’t want to compare; however, I do want to discuss how both KP and VP handle the sexual aspects of their respective relationships (w/as much of VP as we’ve seen so far). I’m sure there will be much to elaborate on in the future as VP becomes more fleshed out. I will go ahead and offer a ⚠️ TW ⚠️ here since I will mention some specifics about their situations. 

~ Ep4 & Ep10 ~

I want to briefly point out that both Kinn and Vegas have made sexual advances on someone who was either unable or unwilling to consent. The VP storyline seems to take this a few steps further, as we see Vegas brutally torture Pete not once, but several times between Ep10 and 11. And on the topic of Vegas, no one has really mentioned it (at least, no one I’ve seen), but to me there’s quite a difference between inflicting physical pain on someone (standard torture) and giving them unwanted sexual touches. Vegas does both at the beginning of Ep11. No one can argue that the VP storyline is not incredibly toxic in general, but even in comparison to the KP storyline, it stands out as being particularly immoral. 

For the record, this is not me putting on a “moral police” helmet. I’m not condemning the show for this at all; rather, I’m condemning Vegas for it. It’s like what happened in Ep4 between Kinn and Porsche: apologies can be made, forgiveness can be given, but that doesn’t erase the fact that it happened. And in a mafia show, where we’re meant to feel conflicted about themes of morality, it fits even if it’s uncomfortable. In fact, that’s what makes it work. If we were supposed to feel comfortable during VegasPete’s torture scene, then I think I’d have a problem. But we know it’s wrong because we’re left feeling as caged and oppressed as Pete is. 

When it comes to KP’s Ep4 scene, I think it’s easy to get wrapped up in its beautiful aesthetics. But I appreciate how the show flips the script in Ep5. We see Porsche in a state of distress over it, not unlike Pete with Vegas. Again, not trying to compare these two situations, but I think the show wants us to consider how both Pete and Porsche deal with the fallout of these experiences. Like I mentioned with Pete’s torture, if the show didn’t address their reactions to trauma, it would feel not only irresponsible, but dishonest. I’ll finish this section by posting a link to this post by @respectthepetty​ comparing some specific aspects of the Ep4 KP scene and VP in Ep11.

That got pretty dark, so I think I’d better move onto a more enticing topic...

Chemistry

Ah, yes. Chemistry. Do I need to explain this one? The GIFs speak for themselves:

(Bold of you to assume that I would choose any other GIF besides this bread product placement. Bread = chemistry, I don’t make the rules.)

(No, I will never stop posting and reblogging GIFs of the Ep12 preview because I have, in fact, built a home inside of this exact moment and I will never ever leave.)

Freedom

Kinn and Porsche found home in each other. We know that already. What’s interesting is the emotional similarity between KP and VP, because Porsche offers Kinn the same basic thing that Pete offers Vegas: freedom. For Kinn, it’s freedom from his role and responsibilities--it’s freedom to live life the way he wants. For Vegas, it’s freedom from his father’s disappointment--the freedom of abandoning his father’s influence and refusing to feel the pain of his disapproval. They’re not so different in the greater scheme. 

Here’s my question: 

Will Ep12 be for VegasPete what Ep6 was for KinnPorsche?

I really hope so, because Ep6 was really something special. 

--

I’d say that’s all for me, but I’m sure I’ll think of something else to drone on about soon enough. For more KP meta, look here. :)

#kinnporsche #kinnporsche the series #vegaspete #tw: torture #tw: sa #Do you ever just sit there and realize that you've spent an hour writing meta about the gay Thai mafia? #Not that I'm upset about it #quite the opposite #but I do wonder how I got here #Any other parallels I’m missing #? #I’m sure there are specifics one I just can’t think of them #please do chime in with thoughts because this topic is super fun to discuss #the Ask box is always open #kinnporsche episode 11 #kinnporsche ep11 #kinnporsche meta #kinn x porsche #vegas x pete #petevegas #kinn anakinn #kinn theerapanyakul #vegas theerapanyakul #vegas kinnporsche #Pete saengtham #Pete kinnporsche #kinnporsche analysis #kinn porsche #kinn and porsche #porsche pachara

[beepbeepdespair]

good morning! i've just had the worst night of my life :)

#BIG tw for discussion of paranoia in the following tags: #ok. so. it's kinda hard to put into words but i spent the whole of last night being tortured by nightmares and general paranoia #it feels like i was being a child again but like. i just felt like i was being watched all the time #and i was so sure there was someone or something in my room but i was too scared to open my eyes to check #felt like there was a hand just above my neck ready to break it.... #i had to get up and read for a while to try and calm down. i don't even want to think about how few hours of sleep i got #and then i got up and ive been ill all morning! why can't i catch a fucking break... #oh and my heart's been going a lil faster than i'd like. just call me miss trainwreck #beep beep gets personal #personal #textpost #text post #night #paranoia #nightmares

[fandomgamersimp]

Important Topic - CoD and dog whistles

Before I begin - there are going to be mentions of mental and physical abuse, as well as a discussion of neo-nazi messages, so please beware. It's, in my opinion, important to the topic I'll be discussing and it is a crucial one to understand everything in its fullest, but don't force yourself to read anything you're not in the headspace for.

So, for context: one of many Ghost cosplayers I follow, FINN (he/they), on TikTok did a live a while ago with his friends. Among many comments, I saw one saying something along the lines of "cool nazi masks you all have, but go off I guess". And not only was I appaled that someone would call them that without proof, it also showed me that, most probably, many don't fully understand this topic- the cosplayers themselves most likely didn't see it due to all comments scrolling fast (though they could just pretend not to in order to not bring negative energy), and people did correct that person, but I feel like, if you are in the CoD fandom, there is unfortunately a chance that you may see that pop up here and there, and I want people to make sure they themselves understand the difference, and have the proper arguments to explain it; not to mention recognize when something may be an actual neo-nazi profile that you should be on alert around.

Let me also mention that I am in no way a specialist in the field, and everything I know comes from a person called the History Wizard (he/she/they) - they have an account on both Instagram, and Tiktok- highly recommend it if you want to further expand your knowledge with far more historical context he provides, she also have a playlist on dogwhistles on TT. I'm just here to provide you with main differences, and one dog whistle in particular.

The two most important features of when and what something is a dog whistle are: 1. Context in which they appear 2. Plausible deniability

The dog whistle that my case talks about refers to the fact that all the CoD cosplayers on the mentioned live wore Simon's mask, specifically this one (or a very similar one):

And I think the person who thought they were neo-nazi masks likely mistook it for this

What if someone asks you "how one is a neo-nazi dog whistle, and one isn't? How do you know they just cosplay, not using a dog whistle?" You circle back to the features of a dog whistle I pointed out earlier.

First, context. Simon's mask can't really be in itself a dog whistle just because it has a design of a skull on it- because it has no context of neo-nazi ideology or white supremacy involded with it, and it also has a different context for itself to begin with. Now, why Simon wears this mask is up for discussion as far as I've seen. He was tortured and abused both physically and mentally by someone wearing a skull mask, for example - so maybe this is his way of dealing with trauma, maybe he simply picked it up from his abuser (like Kaneki from Tokyo Ghoul cracking his fingers). He is also known for being incredibly hard to detect while on mission- just like an evasive ghost. Maybe he just wants to scare his enemies. I've also seen people theorising that it may be hiding scars and facial deformities, or the fact that no one really saw his actual face- just like according to some stories, you can't really see a ghost. At the end of it, Simon does have his own context for wearing this mask, and it's not related nor it's meant to be interpreted as something involving neo-nazism and white supremacy- there is no context for it.

Unlike the actual dog whiste- which will also involve our second feature that is plausible deniability.

It appears in specific context, not pop up out of thin air for no reason. A dog whistle is meant to be a stealthy/coded message that is saying from one bigot to another "I'm one of you" while also showing other bigots which people to target with their hate speech - for example, you may see a comment section of someone who openly talks about being Jewish or even "looks Jewish" to them (because remember that hate doesn't run on logic) spammed with "Never Lose Your Smile". That is the context by which you can decide whether you're dealing with a nazi or not. Jewish creators, someone with a star of David in their profile, or someone who fits their stereotypical view of how Jewish people look, talk and act, with profile filled with a comment like this. But someone may say "yeah, sure, this one is worded really weirdly, but it sounds nice enough". That's when you tell them about plausible deniability. A white supremacist can easily snake their way out - that's what makes it a dog whistle. Cosplayers of Ghost don't need it, because there isn't really anything to hide away/ escape from. If a message is way too obvious/ too clear and there is no possible double meaning in it, it is not a dog whistle.

Context and plausible deniability are very important factors, that's why I want you to remember them. Just because those cosplayers were wearing skull masks, it doesn't mean they are nazis. Anyone wearing a skull mask is not automatically a white supremacist. You can't really decide whether someone is a nazi or not without doing further research on them- their political views, their profile, what they comment on other people's posts etc.

Those people who did a live had an entirely different context for wearing those masks - they were simply cosplaying Simon Riley. Just like Simon has his own reason and context for wearing his mask. Plausible deniability is also still important - because it is dangerous. It gives bigots a way to seem innocent - but it should further push you and other people thinking someone might be a nazi that you need further research and background. I also think it's safe to say that the live lacked it- because FINN and their friends did not need any form of deniability. They just cosplayed, they had fun on live. That's it. Actual white supremacists/nazis appear in certain context while also hiding from any form of repercussions behind plausible deniability. I hope I really drove this point across.

If you lack context and something is far too obvious with its message, it is not a dog whistle. If something appears outside of the background of harmful ideologies, with its own seperate story/context, you're most likely not dealing with an actual white supremacist.

I hope you got what I'm trying to say and that you'll be prepared in case you'd see those out in the wild. Apologies for the messiness, but again I'm not really a specialist in this field, nor my thoughts organised much to be honest. I just wanted to let it out there.

Also I hope this much was obvious, but my profile is in no way, shape or form a safe space for bigots, and this counts antisemitic people. Go to a therapist, not on my profile- you are not welcomed here.

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod #cod mwii #modern warfare #modern warefare ii #call of duty modern warfare 2 #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #cod discussion #call of duty discussion #ghost mw2 #simon riley #cod ghost #ghost call of duty #ghost riley #tw white supremacy #tw antisemitism #tw mentions of abuse #tw mentions of torture #important #cod cosplay #cod ghost cosplay #cod cosplayers #educate yourselves #educational #safety

[tendertenebrosity]

Had this idea last night and threw it together today. I did promise these guys some rest and recovery fluff, and this isn’t quite it but it also shows a bit of how I see their immediate future. Galen and Everet are my Dragon Age OCs, their masterpost is here.

I don’t think I have the energy to do taglists anymore, sorry, and I’m not sure half of you are even still here, so I hope the people who are here find it!

The farm Galen and Everet worked at as autumn ripened and slid gradually towards winter was a large affair. Big enough to hire a couple of dozen temporary workers to bring in the harvest; big enough to blend into the crowd, with second-hand inconspicuous clothing acquired for them both and Everet’s templar gear stashed out in the forest.

Today had been a long day, tiring and monotonous but not in an unpleasant way. The farmer’s daughters set up trestle tables in the barn and laid out food; plain fare, but good. There weren’t enough benches or chairs so people wandered around with food in hand a lot.

Everet tapped his fingers on the wood of a nearby bench, humming to himself to the whisper of lyrium that nobody else could hear. Galen had went out the other day and gotten Everet’s lyrium for the week, so the song was loud tonight. Somebody had had a fiddle out earlier for real music, but nobody had much energy for it tonight, so the barn had emptied rapidly once the food had been put away.

Unusually rapidly, to be perfectly honest.

Everet looked around, alerted by the sudden quiet. While he’d been wool-gathering, the barn had emptied strangely. The only people left in here were him and the foreman, and… two other men who positioned themselves to either side as he approached.

Lyrium surged under Everet’s skin, but he quieted it. He stood up, his heart starting to beat fast. Where was Galen?

“Long day, huh?” he said, keeping his tone casual. “I’d best be finding my bed.”

He went to brush past the three men towards the door, knowing that they’d stop him but needing to try.

One of the other men – the foreman’s son, maybe, taller than Everet - pushed him back with a palm on his chest. The second closed the door very firmly and came to stand nearby, arms crossed.

“Sit down, Everet,” the foreman said, heavily, coming up behind his son. A heavyset man in his fifties with a salt-and-pepper beard, he’d always seemed fair and even-handed to Everet. “We need to talk.”

Everet felt the lyrium rush again, singing in his ears and humming in his limbs. He could take these people, probably. Yeah, they were big, muscled from working the land year-round. But they didn’t have lyrium. And they didn’t have a decade of templar training, even if Everet had gotten a bit rusty lately. He pictured in his head what it would take to swing forward, grab that man’s wrist, break his arm, swing him around and into the other one -

But that would not help, and it wasn’t the most pressing problem.

“Where’s Galen?” he demanded, hearing the fear in his own voice. Galen didn’t normally slip away during the evenings. They’d engineered this, which meant somebody else had Galen somewhere. “If you’ve - ”

“Galen is out helping Sam and Callie with the equipment,” the foreman said. “He doesn’t know about this, and he’s not going to be back for a half hour or so. So you might as well sit down.”

Everet hissed a breath between his teeth, considering. Helping Sam and Callie. He eyed the short distance towards the door, discounted it. There might still be a way to get out of this without conflict; but not if Everet did something stupid. Best to see what this was about. Maybe Everet could throw them off the scent.

The town hadn’t seemed hostile. Not like that place they’d been to last month, with the ragged corpse in robes hung up by the road near the town sign. Or even like the place before that, with the man in the bar waving the templar pamphlets. None of the other men and women here had made any anti-mage comments while they worked. Everet had started to feel almost safe here; he knew Galen had too.

If they’ve hurt him they’ll pay, Everet thought. Empty threats to nobody.

He took a step back, and sank down to sit on the rough wooden bench, doing his best to look earnestly bewildered. “What’s going on?”

The foreman and his muscle didn’t sit; they just loomed.

The foreman sighed. “Everet... I didn’t ask you and Galen many questions when you showed up and took this job. Everybody needs to live, you’re good workers, whatever. But there’s some things we don’t tolerate here.”

“I’m… glad to hear it?” Everet said, his hands clamped onto his knees. He’s going to ask you if Galen is a mage, and you need to look convincing when you say no, the idea is ludicrous, why would you think that.

“When folks stripped off the other day for a swim after the morning shift,” the foreman said. “Several of the boys couldn’t help noticing that Galen has an awful lot of scars for a young man.”

Everet caught his breath, blindsided for a moment. That wasn’t what he’d expected to hear. Was this still…?

“Yeah, I guess,” he managed. “He doesn’t like to talk about them much.”

“We know,” the foreman’s son said, still looming beside his father. He eyed Everet with obvious dislike. “When I asked, he didn’t say anything much. But he did look over the stream at you.”

“What -”

The foreman held up a hand to stop both Everet and his son from talking. He looked grim. “Look, I’ll be blunt. Did you give him any of those scars? Or the bruises, the more recent ones?”

“I – no!” Everet protested. “No, why would I do that?”

“I don’t know either, but the fact remains some men do,” the foreman said. “Now, I don’t really care what else is up with you. If you are lovers you don’t seem to want anyone to know, which is fine. I don’t care.”

“We’re not - ”

“I don’t even really want to know if you’re rogue mages, or deserting from the army, or on the run from the law, or whatever.” The foreman gave a dismissive wave. “We’re a small community. Unless you want to go all the way into Shornvale, the law here consists of the mayor and the watchman and a couple of locals, including me. It’s not worth our time to chase up people who aren’t hurting anyone. So unless you steal from or hurt somebody else under our roof, the boss and I don’t care.”

Everet tried not to flinch at rogue mages. The two other workers didn’t seem to react to that statement either; they just stood there, one of them nodding in agreement.

The foreman met Everet’s eyes squarely. His voice was quiet and even. “But we look after our own. Some of those marks look like they come from a hot knife-blade, and they’re lined up all deliberate-like. And that, I care about.”

The deserted barn was silent for a moment. Everet’s mind felt like it was darting in all directions, the lyrium prickle under his skin insisting he get up and DO something. They didn’t think Galen was a mage. But if he was they wouldn’t care. But they thought Everet had hurt him?

“I didn’t know that,” Everet said, too loud into the silence. His stomach squirmed. “About – about the knife marks.” I never looked at the shape. You can tell that’s what they’re from? Why did I never think to look at that? How do you know what that looks like and I don’t?

The foreman was nodding thoughtfully. His eyes hadn’t left Everet. “Have you ever hurt Galen?”

“No! Maker, no!” Everet shook his head. Well, that was a lie, a voice whispered at the back of his mind. You would never hurt Galen any more. You’re different now. Tell them that and see what they think? He did his best to squash the voice. That wasn’t what they were asking about and he knew it. “Is that – that’s why you got Galen off somewhere by himself? So you could ask us both this?”

“Yeah, Callie was going to talk to him,” the foreman’s son said.“See if he says something different when you aren’t glued to his side.”

So Galen was fine. Galen was fine, had never been in danger, they’d come for Everet here because he was the one they were suspicious of. Everet felt tension leave his shoulders.

Which was probably premature. Everet was still confident he could take these men in a fight, but this was a problem that needed to be solved with words, and Everet wasn’t much good at that. And he didn’t want them to have to leave this job before they had to; they’d been counting on having it until winter came.

“Look, you, um, you’ve misunderstood,” Everet said, trying to smile ruefully. “We’re not… we’re travelling together as friends, that’s all.”

The foreman shrugged, unfazed. “All right. Question still stood.”

“Yeah, no, that’s… I understand,” Everet said. He shook his head. “I can see why you’d… worry.”

“So where did the scars come from, then?” the foreman’s son asked. He was still looking at Everet with undisguised suspicion.

Everet hesitated – which, yeah, possibly looked suspicious, but not much he could do about that. If these people are fine with mages, maybe it’d be OK if I told them the truth? Even just that it was templars, which wouldn’t necessarily mean Galen was a mage – Maker knew, the Order had started harassing enough ordinary folk.

But just because the foreman ‘didn’t care’, didn’t mean nobody here did. And that was something to clear with Galen first.

“If Galen wants you to know,” he said slowly. “I guess he’ll probably tell you himself when he feels like it.”

The younger man looked unsatisfied, but his father forestalled him with a hand again.

“I think that’s fair,” he said. He stepped back, gesturing for the other man to do the same with a jerk of his head. “We’ll see whether he wanted to talk to Callie about anything. If he wants to stay here without you, Everet, then I intend to let him. And if he wants to leave without you, we’ll make that work too.”

“And – if he wants us both want to stay?” Everet asked. He stood up, rubbed a hand over the back of his neck awkwardly. “Of course, you’ll ask him, but I think he’ll want that. We don’t want any trouble, and…”

The foreman nodded. “Of course, if nothing’s awry, you’ll both stay out the season,” he said. “Hopefully there’s no hard feelings. When you’ve been around as long as I have, you’ll realise that even normal-seeming people are capable of some pretty nasty things, so a community’s got to be vigilant.”

“Oh, yeah,” Everet agreed, unexpectedly fervent. “They are. You’re right. No problem.”

“All right. You’d better find your bed, then. Lot of work to do in the morning.”

Galen was later to bed than Everet. If they got beds where they were working, it was usually a communal arrangement, all the farmhands together in a couple of rooms. If it was possible, Galen always took the bed that let him have his back to the wall and Everet in between him and the rest of the room.

Which, now that Everet thought about it, possibly did look a bit… controlling, if you didn’t know it was Galen choosing their spots. It was relevant tonight because it meant Galen had to climb over the top of Everet to get to his straw pallet.

“Hey,” Everet mumbled, awoken from his doze.

“Hey,” Galen responded, barely louder than a breath. “Awake?”

“Eh, enough.” Everet rolled over to face Galen. The person on his other side was snoring gently, but Everet was used to that. His old bunk-mate during training had been worse.

“I’m guessing you had a very awkward conversation after dinner as well.”

“I wouldn’t call mine a conversation so much as a confrontation,” Everet murmured. “Hope yours wasn’t too bad.”

“No, everything’s fine.” Galen rustled as he settled into bed. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “That’s my fault. I should… be more circumspect, maybe.”

“No, I don’t think so. The foreman’s… a decent man. Looking out for you. I think you’re pretty safe,” Everet said, conscious of the fact that the handful of people behind him were only probably asleep. He didn’t say the word mage. “We should… talk more in the morning,”

Galen yawned. “Sure thing. Night.”

#dragon age fanfiction #domestic violence tw #only discussion of though #scar reveal #drug addiction #this is a relatively nice one! #Aftermath of Torture #Galen #Everet #MAGES AND TEMPLARS

[auburniivenus-archive2]

A TRAP || @zankokukami

it was as if his whole life was falling apart as he got the mysterious phone call, on the other end, he heard orihime's panicked voice, she stated that some men that claimed to be part of the shibata family had captured, & were holding her hostage. those fuckers ... the family that took so much from him, & yet, they still wanted to fuck around with him despite how powerful he had became in the yakuza. sure, he was still under shimano, but he had started his own family within his recently.

majima had to get on the move. now. this was the family that was responsible for taking his left eye, he would not allow orihime to be subjected to the same fate ... for them to ruin her beautiful face ...

jumping into a car, not even waiting for one of his men to assist driving him there, foot was on the pedal, & engine was started, he started to drive to the location he suspected her to be kept at, the place he was held hostage himself all those years ago. majima was seeing red as he drove there, & parked the car off quickly ... blocking the road with how he did so.

he walked at a very fast pace, towards the door which he kicked open, alerting the men inside, armed with weaponry, it would seem majima was at a clear disadvantage having came empty handed, but he didn't need weapons, he would tear these men apart with his bare hands. turn their weapons against them even. one came at him with a sword which he managed to dodge but catch between his teeth, punching the man making him release his grip upon the weapon as he flipped around, & punched the hilt of the sword out of his mouth as he released it from his teeth, managing to get the man by the center of his chest.

the other was now quivering in fear, but majima didn't care, he walked toward him silently as the other bled out, this one had a handgun, but he was too terrified to even point it at majima. his hand holding the gun upon the ground, majima took advantage of that, & stood upon the man's hand with the intention to hear all his bones cracking, & then gave him a rough kick to the head ... with his steel toe caps of his boots, it was definitely fatal.

done with the guards, majima walked on into the rest of the warehouse, & found one other man with orihime tied up in chains ... if he was not seeing enough red, he was now as this was the exact same fucker that took his left eye.

❝ get away from her, you sick fuck ! ❞

dropping the accent that he usually put on, when situations got serious, the put-on accent was dropped.

oooh, majima-san, it's been some time has it not ? how about i give your girl a matching eye patch ? she'll look quite nice in one along with you, won't she ?

the knife in the other's hand did not go unnoticed as he made his threat, majima was however on him without a moment's notice, he was basically straddling the other as he started to punch the hell out of him, the man's face was becoming nothing more than mush, as the blood splashed upon majima's face as he let out multiple obscenities. he did eventually tire out, the man below him was long dead as he took a breather from his violent outburst.

turning his head, he looked upwards to orihime who was barely conscious ... she had saw him, at his worst. he wouldn't be surprised if she didn't ever want to see him again, she just watched him punch a man to his death with his bare hands. standing up, he found a bolt cutter sitting near by to cut orihime free of the thick chains that held her, multiple bruises were upon her usually soft clear skin ; there was even some blood. he held her as he gently sat down upon his knees, allowing her to rest her legs from having been forced to stand up for so long in the one position.

❝ orihime ... ❞

he took the hold of her hand.

❝ ... i swear, i'm gonna make shibata n' his men pay fer this ! they'll learn what happens when they decide to mess with me ! ❞

━━━━━━━✾✾✾    During    one    of    her    performances,    Orihime    is    captured    by    a    group    of    ominous    men    who    have    been    expecting    her    to    leave.    They    are    predators    awaiting    their    prey’s    impuissant    moment.    Initially,    Inoue    believes    them    to    be    Majima’s    associates,    but    she    promptly    realizes    her    mistake    as    two    of    them    charge    toward    her,    intent    on    capturing    her.    She    wrestles    as    best    she    can    to    attempt    to    free    herself    from    their    dominance,    succeeding    in    even    hitting    one    of    them,    but    to    no    avail.    A    third    element    muzzles    &    hoods    her    to    obfuscate    her    sight.    To    silence    any    eavesdropping,    a    stranger    beats    her    with    a    devastating    blow,    rendering    her    unconscious    in    seconds.

❝    Majima-san,    where    are    you?    Will    I    see    you    again?    I    want    to    see    you    again.    ❞    Price    to    pay    for    being    with    him.    She    will    always    be    an    exposed    human    being,    his    fragile    side.    Adversaries    will    always    seek    to    target    Goro,    targeting    her    first    because    she’s    flimsier,    a    flower    in    the    middle    of    the    wilderness,    and    defenseless    to    the    surrounding    circumstances.    Orihime    is    a    conspicuous    prey,    so    she    needs    to    be    exceptionally    guarded.

As    she    awakens,    Inoue    finds    herself    shackled    &    restrained,    her    amber    locks    veiling    her    cherubic    countenance    as    blood    trickles    from    an    impairment    on    her    cranium.    ❝    Ouch.❞    Whimpers,    feeling    the    soreness    of    the    previous    impact.    Her    hazy    vision    prevents    her    from    determining    where    she    is    or    identifying    those    who    have    kidnapped    her    in    order    to    entice    the    MAD    DOG    OF    SHIMANO.    

As    she    lifts    her    physiognomy,    she    captures    the    henchmen’s    alertness,    &    one    of    them    approaches    her,    pulling    her    auburn    mane    back    malevolently.    “Majima-san    has    superb    taste    in    choosing    women,    I    must    admit.”    States,    scrutinizing    her    contour    from    top    to    bottom,    every    arch,    every    niche,    &    aperture.    ❝    M-a-j-i-m-a.    ❞    His    name    is    bestowed    in    discomfort,    stress    that    she’ll    never    see    him    again.

“You    should    stay    away    from    that    bastard.    I’ll    call,    and    you’ll    talk.    You    can    even    say    that    the    Shibata    family    kidnapped    you.    He’ll    love    to    hear    it.”    Comely    damsel    doesn’t    know    who    they    are    or    the    narrative    they    have    with    Goro,    yet    she    knows    something    terrible    has    befallen.    Probably    one    of    his    greatest    antagonists.    Having    no    other    option,    the    maiden    obeys.

LET    IT    BURN!

"Good    girl,    now    let’s    see    if    I    can    take    his    other    eye."    

❝    Forgive    me,    but    it    seems    that    your    fate    is    sealed.    You    don’t    comprehend    ━━━━━━.    ❞    Proclaims,    raising    her    profile    to    stare    at    him.    ❝    A    wolf    has    been    unleashed,    and    he    will    not    rest    until    he    tears    your    innards    out    from    the    inside.    He’s    alpha.    ❞    Young    woman    has    never    witnessed    his    beastliness    firsthand,    yet    she    knows    what    he’s    capable    of.    His    ignominious    prestige    hunts    him.    Many    fear    him,    and    the    barbaric    manner    in    which    he    kills,    decapitates.    She    can    almost    foretell    his    fortune.    “Shut    up,    bitch!”    A    firm    hand    slaps    her    impetuously,    marking    five    digits    in    her    velvety    epidermis.    

Holding    you,    loving    you. 

Time    crawls    at    a    glacial    pace,    each    second    an    agonizing    eternity.    Her    physique    throbs,    terrifying    somnolence    seems    to    vanquish    her    senses.    She    feels    feeble;    her    legs    can    barely    stand.    Succumbing    to    the    pain,    Inoue    closes    her    caramel    optics    for    a    brief    moment.    However,    it    doesn’t    take    long    before    she    hears    the    insurgency.    ❝    Finally.    ❞    Muses    to    herself.    The    air    is    rent    with    the    cacophony    of    violence,    metallic    tang    of    blood    asphyxiating    her    senses.    At    the    sound    of    his    voice,    a    delicate,    endearing    smile    curves    her    lips.

A    different    timbre.    Where    is    his    cadence?    A    completely    divergent    persona,    a    different    man.    Before    her,    a    demon    punches    his    adversary    so    hard    that    he    deforms    him,    his    denuded    hands    bathing    in    the    other’s    plasma.    Oddly    enough,    she    undergoes    tremendous    relief    when    she    realizes    that    there    are    just    the    two    of    them    there.    It’ll    take    a    while    for    her    to    get    over    that    incident.    Those    same    brutal,    bloodied    palms    picked    her    up    gently,    putting    an    end    to    her    torment.    Orihime    can    hear    his    accelerated    pulse    due    to    the    adrenaline.    Her    dome    rests    against    Majima’s    chest,    remaining    silent    for    a    few    seconds.    

His    blood    is    still    pumping    uncontrollably    due    to    his    upheaval.    How    can    she    counter    that    response?    ❝    It’s    alright.    It’s    over,    for    now.    ❞    Whispers,    trying    to    calm    him    down.    With    the    little    force    she    has,    Inoue    embraces    him    tightly    &    then    seals    her    lips    with    his    in    a    hectic    kiss,    breathless    &    emphatic.

I'm    in    love    with    you,    

When    love    and    death    embrace    

#tw: blood #tw: language #tw: torture #tw: abuse #tw: gore #tw: murder #tw: death #tw: violence #––– ❛ YAKUZA V. 【 lavender in her hair; roses on her cheek. 】 #━━ ◤ and we'll discuss our big dreams; how we plan to take over the planet ◢ Orihime & Majima #tw: long post #I WANTED TO DO HER POV YOU WELCOME #LOL

[lasnevadaslaborunion]

The bullying-abuse-torture semantics are weird and often times people try and downplay the affects of one or justify calling it something else when all are technically “abuse.” Like Pandora’s vault is continuously called “torture” by other characters but mostly by c!Dream, but it also falls under the category of abuse (esp of power on c!sam’s part) but the word we use, bc it’s mostly used by the narrative, is torture. Meanwhile, no one in the narrative has really defined what exile was..? Quackity called it torture but he wasn’t there and also context is important. C!Tommy called c!Dream a bully but this was only once afaik. And when talking abt exile, c!tommy just says what happened or “it was bad” same as other characters. It feels off to call exile torture just as much as it feels off to call pandora abuse. Calling exile bullying is a slippery slope bc it can be categorized as such, and trying to justify why it can’t just downplays the effects of bullying, but irl connotations and personal emotional investment in characters gets in the way at this point usually.

(Small clarification: in context of the clip I used, c!Quackity wasn't referring to exile, but rather to c!Tommy's time trapped in prison with c!Dream that ended with his murder - another reason why I don't think it was the best example to make my point.)

Interesting thoughts.

This is something I believe I and the person I was speaking to agree on: that regardless of how we string our silly little syllables together, it's ridiculous to use semantics as a measuring stick to argue over whose trauma is worse, let alone to say that one justifies the other.

Like, if somebody was shoved into a swimming pool, hit their head on the way down, and died because they couldn't swim. And somebody else was thrown off a boat in the middle of the ocean and left to thrash about until they couldn't stay afloat anymore. They're clearly not the same situation, and if you said the water was the same depth you'd be objectively wrong... but both people still drowned because somebody pushed them, you know?

I elaborated on my thoughts a bit more in this post, but I think "conditioning" is the most accurate, if a bit clinical, way to describe the nature of the abuse that happened in exile. "Psychological torture" could also be technically accurate, although there are examples outside of exile that fit the descriptor more closely. (One that sticks in my head is that during c!Sam's prison streams, while blatantly softening his actions to make a point about his motives, c!Dream describes the disc finale in such a way that it becomes a mock execution. While we know his plan was much different, it's still very interesting to me that he chose that as an explanation...)

Hard, hard agree on how the word "bullying" is often used with an unfairly dismissive connotation, even though it's a form of abuse that's just as damaging as any other. And on how even though it wouldn't be incorrect to call exile "bullying," common biases mean that in practice it doesn't really convey the scale of what happened there. Like you say, a lot of the language we use comes down to how the words feel just as much as what they definitively mean, and that divide can cause a whole world of frustration.

There's a lot to be said about how and why exile hasn't explicitly had one of these labels assigned to it in-story in a serious way, but I think a lot of it comes down to A) very few characters knowing the full extent of what happened, and B) c!Tommy being someone who often struggles with articulating these things. Hence the "it was bad," followed by examples of how bad it was, if he can bring himself to talk about it in detail at all. His feelings about that time in his life are, as he's put it, "wiggly," while the torture that c!Dream suffered is far more readily recognizable as such - physically, emotionally, "aesthetically," and so on.

#i'll close with a line from a silly little au that didn't belong in the main analysis #torture 101: lesson number one. resentment is powerful and destructive. #the minute the target recognizes what's happening to them... the torturer has already lost. #(and c!quackity is very very bad at being evil) #asks #tw torture #tw abuse #not putting main fandom tags bc i feel this is just a continuation of a discussion

[thefirstcfthem]

// Me when I think about that scene where Peter gets shocked to heck

#// someday I will get to fully talk about everything with a Brenner rper and #// listen I greatly desire to discuss Peter and Brenner's dynamic with someone #abuse tw #blood tw #torture tw #tbdeleted

[on-stained-glass-wings]

☕️ + Mohg

(Oh boy. I had a feeling this was coming.)

TW/CW: Discussion of kidnapping; discussion of non-consensual touching; discussion of non-consensual body modification; discussion of child grooming; discussion of trauma.

Miquella's smile was tight and his golden eyes darkened under the weight of decades of torment. A fine tremor seized his hands, and he was quick to grab his skirts to still them, although he soon grew white-knuckled from the strength of his grip. His chest stilled, then stuttered, and then he took a quick, little breath as the need for air involuntarily came upon him.

" I pity him." Miquella muttered, his voice flat and hollow even to his own ears. " I do, truly, despite the revulsion that seizes me whenever I hear his name or smell the metallic tang of blood. I cannot..." He stuttered, licked his suddenly dry lips, and pressed on. " I clearly cannot hide that I remain greatly affected by his actions to this day, and yet...things such as abuse can be cyclical, can they not? Abandoned by Mother in the sewers just for being born, Mohg was alone and uneducated, and the Formless Mother--sensing an opportunity for an unwitting pawn--offered him love and sunk her honeyed talons into his heart. If his beloved 'mother' so formed him into her image, and no one and nothing has shown him the error of such an act, then it is reasonable that he would not see the violation of doing the same to me."

" You do not have to forgive him." Malenia said. While Miquella was doing his best to blunt his reaction, Malenia let her rage and sorrow play freely on her face, with flaring nostrils and lips gone white from being pressed so tightly together. The cords of her neck were snapped as taught as sail rigging, and yet the hand with which she stroked Miquella's hand contained nothing but gentleness and love. " You may understand what led him to commit his atrocity against you, but that does not mean you have to forgive it. You have no obligation to grant mercy."

" I know, Malenia. You have told me such many times before, and I see the logic behind your words." Despite Malenia's attempt to sound cross, the way he melted into her touch belied his true sentiment, and he subconsciously shifted himself until he was pressed against her side. " Yet I cannot help how I feel, and you know my heart, sister; it is hard for me to hold onto anger when it comes to anything but you. Do I feel disgust towards him? Yes. Am I repulsed by the mere mention of his name? Also yes. Yet I...he makes me tired, Malenia. All I feel is pity, disgust, and fatigue."

" And fear." Malenia whispered, voice wavering almost imperceptibly. Miquella shook his head, and--despite being in front of an audience--moved to lay his head in her lap. Some things never changed, even though he now had the body and brain of one in their mid to late tens.

" No. No fear, sister." Miquella muttered, lifting his head up and allowing Malenia to slide her prosthetic arm beneath it as a pillow. The stiff weight was strangely comforting, as was the flesh and blood hand rhythmically stroking his hair, and the God of Abundance--despite the lingering heaviness in his gaze--couldn't help but smile at her familiar ministrations. " Not so long as you are at my side."

The breath stuttered in Malenia's chest, but she made no move to reply, simply kissing Miquella on his exposed temple as his eyelids fluttered shut, the emotional exhaustion of discussing Mohg taking its toll. Sensing his fatigue, the younger twin simply hummed and stroked his hair, waiting until the elder twin was well and truly asleep before speaking again.

" Miquella was supposed to be safe here." Malenia whispered, and even though her eyes were sealed shut by rot scars, it was impossible to not hear the tears clinging to the edges of her voice. " The deepest part of the Haligtree, our hidden sanctuary, our home--the one place in the world aside from Caria Manor where we felt safe. He was supposed to be safe here. It was the only reason I felt comfortable enough to march to Caelid, and while I was gone, that fetid, foul little rat...that spineless, simpering little coward...he took my brother away. He stole his godhood, his body, his very security. He violated him--violated our home!"

Malenia had to abruptly stop and swallow the impending scream of rage before it could escape. Her left hand trembled as it stroked Miquella's cheek.

" Dear Miquella has horrible night terrors on nights where he is too tired to explore the dreams of others." The goddess rasped. " He dreams of being bathed in blood--so much blood that he chokes on it in his sleep. He dreams of that fetid little rat cooing words in his ears and melting himself into his...into his very body. His very blood. All while Miquella was unable to voice his objection or escape. Mohg claimed to love my brother, but all he loved was the idea of him--the fantasy of having a pretty, perfect, golden god that he could raise to be the perfect spouse! I do not care how our mother wronged him as a child. I do not care that he was victimized by the Formless Mother the same way he victimized Miquella. I care that my brother cries in the night, and picks his skin, and scrambles away in panic when a stranger so much as innocently touches his shoulder to get his attention! I..."

Another pause. Another swallow. Another deep breath. Miquella shifted in his sleep, muttering something intelligible, and Malenia quickly soothed him back into stillness.

"...yet I am glad Miquella insisted I let him live." Malenia admitted, and the expression on her face was almost sadistic, cruel little smile and all. " For death is too easy an escape for such a mealworm. One day, when Miquella has ascended to full godhood, he will banish all the Outer Gods from the Lands Between...including Mohg's precious Formless Mother. With her will go his power, his authority, his position, and everything upon which he has built his life and identity. His whole sense of self will come tumbling down like a house of cards. I can think of no more horrifying punishment for one like Luminary Mohg. May he wither and rot.”

#answered entreaties (asks) #the empyrean speak (miquella and malenia answers) #golden abundance and scarlet decay (headcanons) #kingdom of the haligtree (milieu) #the defiler of the haligtree (mohg) #tw: discussion of kidnapping #cw: discussion of kidnapping #tw: discussion of child abuse #cw: discussion of child abuse #tw: discussed non-consensual body modification #cw: discussed non-consensual body modification #tw: discussed non-consensual touching #cw: discussed non-consensual touching #tw: discussed torture #cw: discussed torture #tw: discussed child grooming #cw: discussed child grooming #(look i'm sorry for the tags but i'm not taking any chances)

[another-whump-sideblog]

Jane's Pets Chapter 91: Training

TWs in the tags

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Kitty is having a bad time.

Is this about the conversation they had with Bunny yesterday? They knew they shouldn't have talked like that when Jane could be listening. Now she knows they have hope for the future and she'll try to torture it out of them! Stupid fucking pills, they weren't thinking, they never would've done that if they weren't drugged! The drugs are supposed to make being compliant easier!

At least it's just them being hurt? She must have something planned for Bunny, though, she's been shockingly easy on him despite the murder attempts… But for now, at least, it's just Kitty in the basement. That's good. They try to focus on that instead of the pain from being thrown down the stairs and the possibility of being put in sensory deprivation.

"Kitty. You know how Puppy has those phrases that make her do certain things? How I can make her pass out or go limp with a few words?"

She pauses, and it takes Kitty a second to realize she's waiting for a response. "Yes, master." They do not like where this is headed.

"I want to do that with you. The medicine has made you really good, much better than before at least. But not enough." She smiles wickedly. "Don't worry. This is more of a long-term project. You won't be down here long today- you'll just be down here again tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that, until you're conditioned how I want. How does that sound?" She pauses again.

"...I don't know what you want me to say to that." 

Even if she puts them in sensory deprivation, it won't be longer than a day. No matter what she does, it won't be longer than a day before they get a break.

Jane laughs. "That's fair. Good Kitty, trying to figure out what I want you to say instead of just saying the first thing that comes to your mind. Look at how much you’ve changed… it’s going to be so much fun to take more of your autonomy from you, more of yourself from you.”

They recoil. Fuck, that might be worse than being constantly drugged! Their breathing quickens.

“I want to see if I can make you feel pain with just a phrase. So-“ she holds a cattle prod. “Bad Kitty.”

She shocks them, and they don’t bother to hold back their screams. They have no one to try and look strong for, and the screams are a good cue for Puppy and Bunny to know Jane is focused on Kitty anyway.

“Bad Kitty.” Another shock. Their entire body convulses painfully.

"Bad Kitty." ZAP! They bite their tongue and blood fills their mouth- fuck, what are they going to do if they bite their tongue off? They try to clench their teeth together, it would be better for a convulsion to break a tooth than for it to bite off their tongue.

"Bad Kitty." ZAP! This is so stupid. They hate that this works, that they know they won't be able to hear that phrase without feeling fear because Jane has done it before with their name. It's so stupid.

"Bad Kitty." ZAP! They're trying to shield their head with their arms as much as possible, but it still gets slammed against the floor a few times. Just what they need, another concussion. They wonder if they'd even notice if it resulted in permanent brain damage, or if they'd just assume it was a symptom of the drugs.

Jane eventually gets bored of the cattle prod and takes out a whip.

"Bad Kitty." CRACK! Kitty can't decide what they prefer- obviously the shocks can lead to damage from the convulsions, but if they were tied down and had something to bite on…

"Bad Kitty." CRACK! They're not looking forward to having to deal with the wounds on their back, but at least the pain's localized to just their back while the shocks burn all over…

"Bad Kitty." CRACK! 

It goes on and on and on. Their world is pain. They don't try to fight it, distract themself from it, or beg for mercy. There's no point. 

They can feel as their most recent pill wears off, and the world grows sharper, more in focus. The pain grows too. They're not sure if they'd rather the torture continue or be drugged. Both take away their ability to think and function like normal, but… they feel more themself while being tortured. Which is really fucking sad.

But it's not their choice. It's never their choice. 

Like always, it eventually ends. It could've gone on a lot longer, but Jane sticks to her word- they weren't down here for long today. She puts the collar back on them, makes them swallow a pill, and sends them upstairs.

~~

Puppy and Bunny immediately jump into action when Kitty gets up the stairs, cleaning the wounds and bandaging them up. It's… not as bad as it could be. Not as bad as Puppy expected it to be. That worries Puppy a little, but Kitty explains that they'll be in the basement a few hours every day until Master is satisfied, and that makes more sense.

She looks forward to being able to take care of them every day, to making the time in between the torture pleasant. That's usually not an option, at least not on this smaller scale. Obviously, she does her best to make the times in between big tortures pleasant as well.

Kitty's body twitches every once in a while, making them wince. It'll wear off before the next torture session though, so that's… better than it could be.

She can't comfort Kitty through touch and she can't comfort them through humming, so she finds other ways to help them feel nice. She wraps them in blankets and makes them a grilled cheese sandwich for lunch (their favorite food). Bunny comforts them verbally, promising this will end soon and they'll be safe, that they're strong and they'll get through this, and that they'll still be themself no matter what. It seems to help even though Kitty doesn't really believe him.

This is alright. Everything is warm and cozy and nice for now. Puppy finishes her chores while Bunny soothes Kitty, and when she comes back Kitty is asleep. That's good. Hopefully they have nice dreams.

She's trying not to think about her conversation with Bunny. She technically didn't do anything against the rules, but that wouldn't matter if Master was watching. She probably wasn't, Puppy doubts Kitty would scream like that if she wasn't there the whole time, but the possibility never leaves Puppy's mind. Master could've seen. Master could be planning a punishment right now-

But she's probably not. It's probably all fine. And she would do anything for Bunny, even if it tears her up inside thinking of how much danger he's putting himself in by not giving up on murdering Master.

Would you do anything for me, Puppy?

Master has asked her that before. It felt so wrong, hearing it come from Bunny… but she would. She would do anything for him, or for Kitty. She just… would do anything for Master too. So when those things contradict…

"Puppy? Do you wanna sit down?" Bunny pats on a spot next to him on the couch.

Puppy has been pacing around the living room, trying to stay awake and keep an eye on Kitty. She shakes her head. If Bunny asks her to sit anyway, she will, she would do anything for him, but she doesn't want to. It's so much harder to avoid sleep sitting down, and she's much better trained than the others, she knows better than to risk things like that if she doesn't have to.

"Gotcha." Bunny doesn't push. She appreciates that. He's not like Master. He's just… desperate. Which she understands.

He's going to need to be trained soon too, she's sure. Master's going to rip him apart, remove any scrap of hope, and put him back together how she likes. But for now, at least, Master seems to find his defiance entertaining, and Puppy can do her best to make the time before he gets tortured pleasant. It's all she can do.

~~

Peyton thrashes and cries in her sleep. She can act as calm as she wants around me, but I know she's afraid of me - there's nothing else in her life that could possibly cause nightmares like that!

She gasps awake and looks around her room. She doesn't see me, of course, I'm in my void. She closes her eyes and breathes deeply- in for 4, hold for 7, out for 8, like she tells me to do- then picks up her phone and calls someone.

"Chris?"

I can hear their voice from my void as if I was right next to Peyton with my ear pressed to the other side of her phone. They sound tired. "What's wrong?"

"I, um… I'm- I had a nightmare about- about one of my clients dying, and I can't get the images out of my head- can you stay on the phone with me until I calm down? It- it's okay if you can't, I just can't be alone right now, I can find someone else to call or something if you can't-"

"No, that's fine. I can stay on the phone with you. Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Okay, okay. I'll just tell you about my plans for tomorrow then. I don't have work, so I'm going to vacuum my room-"

The conversation is boring from there, but I stay until Peyton's more composed. I never get to see her like this, what a treat! I wonder how she'd feel if I killed Chris…

She has nightmares about my threats, which is very good. She takes them seriously, even if she pretends she doesn't. I wonder how much she'd cry if I did kill her client. Would she be able to hold it in until she thought I was gone? Or would she let herself look weak in front of me? Would she lash out, or get self-destructive? So many possibilities…

I control her, even if she likes to pretend I don't. That's what's important. It's nice to know! She's just as well-trained as my pets, but she doesn't know it yet, which makes it even better. It's going to be so fun to destroy her life!

But not yet. I'll know when the time is right, when I can cause maximum damage, and we're not there yet.

A/N: Let me know if I should tag anything else, or if you want to be added to or removed from the tag list!

Tag list: @eatyourdamnpears @whump-in-the-closet @scp-1296 @thecosmicmap @quins-whump-stuff

@fuckcapitalismasshole

#whump #whump writing #whumpblr #intimate whumper #creepy whumper #nonhuman whumper #multiple whumpees #pet whump #whumpee #whumper #whump caretaker #3rd person pov #1st person pov #torture tw #electric torture tw #electrocution tw #whipping tw #discussion of torture tw #stalking tw #drugging tw #jane's pets

[necromycologist]

warning: duneposting imminent

i just saw dune part two and im about to go totally crazy about it (probably sometime tomorrow, once i manage to translate the brain static into actual words).

so. if you dont want to see me rip apart this film (a lot) or frank herbert (a little) i would recommend blocking #duneposting because im about to join the war on hating on the side of the haters and the war on longposts on the side of the readmores.

this has been your warning. yeehaw.

#home cooked hijinks #duneposting #< im serious peeps stay safe out there. its no fun to see your dash flooded. in fact if you wanna unfollow for a bit i get it. #btw theres also a lot of violence torture and uh. uncomfortable discussions of birth and gender in a rather bioessentialist way #so consider that a general tw for any duneposting.

[therapythoughtstogether]

I regularly binge but then I get out of the cycle through just sheer disgust with the food now. Like I binged on crisps so much I now can't stand them. Now it's one less thing to binge. I try breaking the cycle if I can by swapping a binge meal for a healthy one for a limited time then swap in a second one etc. I go slow though like maybe a couple of weeks at a time. I can't go cold turkey. It's also totally hard. If I go slow and just gradually introduce a filling healthy meal instead of a binge into my routine then it's easier to fall into a healthy eating period eventually. I also try and practise mindfulness by grounding myself (you can Google tips) because the binging is fueled by a feeling of being out of control, like I'm airborne. I can't describe it. It's like I'm on the edge of a cliff and I have to slowly crawl back by grounding myself and taking baby steps to establish a routine. If you're recovering from trauma I think makes it so hard to try and pick yourself up again. I feel like I'm failing putting myself back together.

I cannot even express how thankful I am for you sharing your experience! I understand exactly what you mean, you don't have to explain further. It's like we have the same shared collective experience.

I remember being absolutely disgusted by creamed corn when I was just about 10 years old...it hurts to even type it out. I binged on it hard just before going to school and I was curled up in a ball crying on the kitchen floor because my stomach hurt so much. I haven't had creamed corn ever since.

Now I have kind of a aversion to most really sweet desserts because I used to binge on them so hard. I was binging on crisps hard-core for the past two weeks, and even tough I didn't develop an aversion to them (looks like my love for potatoes and savoury snacks wins) I just don't crave them at the moment (I know that won't last though) and I do feel disgusted by greasy food in general. So I'm trying to reduce the oil and fat in my cooking.

The feeling of being out of control...I feel like I am "possessed". Like I'm on the passenger's seat and someone or "something" took over the wheel. It's like witnessing my own self destruction and not being able to do anything about it.

I'm back at starting my days with a glass of water, a cup matcha, the light of a a scented candle and journaling. When I'm able to get a mat I'll go back to gentle stretches and build up to doing yoga again. It helps me ground myself more like in a preventive way. In hopes that I can prevent future binges or at least reduce the frequency and intensity of them.

When I'm in the middle of a binge it's almost impossible for me to stop. Even though I have managed not to binge for the whole day lately. Like I've had binges in the morning and managed to remind myself that my whole day isn't "ruined" even if I exceeded the amount of calories I had planed to consume for the day.

I'm also trying to allow myself to have what I crave in moderation, but with someone with my history of eating disorders, moderation is extremely hard. It seems impossible sometimes. It's all or nothing for me...but I'm trying.

~Sending you hugs and love, I hope you heal, and thanks so much again for sharing 💜💜💜 You made me feel less alone, and I'm sure other people who come across this may feel the same way.

#therapy thoughts #anons #asks #answered #I appreciate you so much for sharing anon #tw ed talk #tw BED discussion #tw binge restrict cycle #tw ed relapse #trying to recover #recovery struggles #it feels like torture #a bit of an insight of how it feels to binge #you're not alone #we are in this together #mental health

[author-a-holmes]

Happy Blorbo Blursday! Which one of your characters would benefit from modern medication the most? If your characters are modern, what medication would help them that they're not on?

Hello! Thank you for the ask ^_^

Just going to CW and TW for mental health discussion, trauma, torture, agoraphobia, and destructive coping mechanisms, although I don't go into detail about any of them they are mentioned in relation to my characters here.

Most of my WIPS have magic and so many, if not all, physical illnesses have a magical, herbal, or science based treatment. And while not it's often not a cure-all, it's usually a better treatment than real-world modern medicine would be able to supply.

Having said that, I do feel like Moryann, the setting for my book Stolen, could do with some serious mental health professionals. In particular, I think my Wizard Myris could make some use of that as he has some mild agoraphobia and ptsd from some torture in his past which was the cause of his lost voice.

But he does, at least, have his own coping mechanisms in place.

I feel like the person who would benefit most from a long series of therapy sessions is probably Reilly Mosswolf. He has night terrors, and a lot of trauma from his childhood. Both his parents and his sister were murdered (different times, different events, different people behind their deaths) and he doesn't like getting close to people as a result. He doesn't do well with looking after himself when left to his own devices, but Reilly also doesn't cope well with being "mothered" as he puts it.

He also has a bad habit of being self destructive as a way to cope, such as getting drunk or getting into bar fights. But he is trying and he does get better over the course of the books, I just think he'd benefit from a mental health professional giving him better ways to cope with his issues.

Disclaimer: Answered August 12th. Scheduled for September 13th

#Asks #Asks answered #Stesierra #friends #mutuals #Ari Speaks #Arista Speaks #Stolen Stories #Reilly Mosswolf #Myris Orinan #Insomniac #Night Terrors #Nightmares #CW #TW #mental health discussion #trauma #torture #agoraphobia #destructive coping mechanisms

[nervousyoungtwinfantasydog]

pretty…pretty good

#vent #actually borderline #tw death #tw suicide #tw sa #tw rap3 #tw torture #i’ve been a complete fucking wreck these past 2 days #i had therapy yesterday #discussed some…not so fun events from childhood #and my brain has decided that today is the day to process my childhood trauma and mother’s death #jesus fuck #it’s horribly gut/wrenching to think that if she just hadn’t met [redacted] then i wouldn’t be horrifically traumatized #and she might still be alive #god why did any of this have to happen? #why did we have to endure so much pain? #why did my mom have to go thru that? #god i’m just overwhelmed #it’s so intense sometimes that i feel like i can barely breathe #had a real bad panic attack earlier #bc of this shit #idk what to do

[yanderenightmare]

Mahito x darling

TW: NSFW, noncon, psychological torture, Mahito in and of himself

fem reader

Mahito is so scary because you're the only one who sees him. 

You can't tell your friends, you can't call the cops, you can't even discuss it with your therapist for fear of being committed. 

You're all alone with him – half the time convinced you’re going insane.

He doesn't even need to kidnap you. Why would he? He likes your cozy apartment. To see you in your natural habitat with all your personal trinkets. Your books, your decorations, the contents of your fridge, your makeup, your clothes, not to mention the soft warmth of your bed…

Sure, his sewer has its charm, but you probably wouldn’t like it there very much. Not that it would stop him, but he’s sure you’d be boring if all you did was stay cooped up there all day. 

This is much more interesting. To be there when you come home from work, having trifled through all your belongings, dragged everything out – made a mess like a new puppy would. To watch you try to cling to your sanity, going about life, trying to live it normally even when he’s right there on your sofa wanting to dish about how much you loath your pissy boss or that loud neighbor and what fun it might be to kill them.

You brush him off as intrusive thoughts – a manifestation within your mind. That’s the only explanation that allows you to keep your wits with you.

But it’s become hard to bring anyone home. Even though others can't see him, he’ll walk about your friends and the odd date and comment on all the things they do, ridiculing them when they say something cheesy, feigning puking before giving it away with a snicker, then asking you why you bother hanging out with them at all. And you wonder if that’s what you really think… why else would a figment of your imagination say something like that?

No. You decide. He doesn’t represent your thoughts. He’s just… a roommate who knows no boundaries. 

Funny enough, you don’t really recognize that he’s any dangerous before you’re getting dressed after a shower, opening a drawer on your dresser you rarely look in – only to find it overfilled with dozens of tiny shrunken heads.

You scurry back on the floor with your hand clasped over your mouth until your back meets your bed – skin crawling. There’s no air left in your lungs from the shock to produce any such thing as a scream – so instead, you start heaving – then crying.

“Oh – I was wondering when you’d find them!” A cheer is heard from your bedroom threshold.

Your eyes pan to look at him – or it. Mahito, with a big grin on his face – clapping as though impressed by your performance.

“Wh-what – what is this?” You splutter, trying not to throw up – casting shifty glances over at the lump that had fallen to the floor – its face twisted with agony, unrecognizable, but you think you still knew… “What have you done?”

It doesn’t smell of rot, but something else – like unwashed clothing – sweat and piss and shit – you don’t understand how you hadn’t smelled it before. You don’t understand how you hadn’t heard it before – the moaning, though only in hoarse weak voices, still there, in a chorus, crying in pain.

“I’ve been studying them.” He says – casually, padding across the floor before bending down to pick the one up.

He looked at it with disappointment, throwing it up and catching it like one would a baseball – then clicked his tongue. 

“But I must say you’ve got boring taste… I don’t feel like I learned much of use from any of them at all.” 

He drops it to the floor in a fleshy splat, and you cringed anew – wanting to crawl away, wanting to get out, to call the police – maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to be committed – maybe there was something genuinely wrong with you…

Mahito doesn't share your concerns, though. He’s got his mind on other things. 

“I think I’ll learn better through practice.”

You don’t realize what he’s talking about before you’re being lifted up on the bed and then pushed down against it.

His lean but muscular frame has you dwarfed as he crawls after you – caging you between his arms and legs.

“I wouldn’t mind the floor, but I’m sure you’d prefer the bed. That’s how you humans usually like it, right?” He smiles – as though he’s doing you a favor. 

He’s taken off his usual tunic – showcasing a pale grey chest patchworked together in crude stitches – and you don’t really understand why you’d ever conjure something that looked like it. So human, yet still… so not. 

“I didn’t know what size you’d want – they were all so different – but I think bigger is better, isn’t it?”

It doesn’t register before you feel the weight of it on your stomach. 

Fat and warm, ridged with veins and hard against you. 

Looking down, feeling the situation settle on your skin like the raw cold – you realize, though you don’t understand it – Mahito isn’t just some imaginary friend. 

Whatever he is – he’s no such thing as a friend at all.

Your chest flares. “Mahito, no – ”

Your hands fly to try and push him off, but they’re easily caught. His fingers stretch inhumanly like playdough, using only one hand to reign in both wrists, pinning them to the pillow above you.

“No? Still too small?” He asks, as though your uproar had been a cry for more – his voice in a playful lilt. “I can make it bigger if you like~”

You squirm when the thing between your thighs grows an inch – swelling up into something fatter than your wrist – weighty and twitching atop you. 

It alone churns your guts, but the sight of his face gleaming so innocently makes it all so much worse. 

You whimper as he drags a rude finger through your folds – bluntly poking at your hole.

“You’re supposed to be wet, no?” He posed, keen eyes watching your face grimace in discomfort – drilling his digit inside you despite it. 

When knuckle-deep, he curled it, nail scraping into the gummy of your tender walls – making your whole body twist with an ache, shaking your head while sinking your teeth into your lip.

“Stop-” You croaked pitifully, still trying to wring your wrists free – but the hand keeping them jailed had hardened into something that was no longer skin.

He just yawned at your struggle. “So noisy...” Bored while looking down at you and the ugly way your lips curled at his crude fingering – but then his eyes widened. “Wait – oh! I get it now! So, this is what kissing is for…”

He didn’t give you much time to turn away before his mouth locked on yours – more in an attempt to swallow than to kiss, feeding you his tongue – which felt so much longer than it should be – winding through you until it licked your gag-reflex and made you choke.

You tensed in response, clenching the finger prodding you – and he took it as an invitation to squeeze another in – making you squeal out a sob in his mouth. 

But though it was a cruel ministration, it was enough to tickle the instinct – dragging wet out from within you, bathing the digits that now slid with greater ease in and out.

“See~ I told you I’d learn better through practice...” He mumbled against your lips – having felt the change – also noticing the quiet that befell you… looking so cute beneath him. 

He chuckled – the taste of your kiss still warm and wet on his lips.

“That really did shut you up, hm~ you humans are so funny.”

That thing resting heavily on your belly does a little jump, and you flinch with it. Left panting after being throat-fucked by a tongue – you’re really only able to shake your head as he slips the beastly thing down between your thighs – its fat head licking your clit on its way until kissing your entrance.

Two fingers haven't done you any justice – nothing could – to prep you for something of that size.

“I think this is correct…” He muses, nudging himself against the slim coin-sized hole – looking a little confused while he did so – though not exactly unsure of himself… more as though it was the whole procedure in and of itself that was at fault and not him. He was just following instructions, after all.

Sucking his teeth at the tautness, he continued to press the tip through you. 

A whine was ripped from your chest as it arched off the bed – thighs quaking on each side of his hips, kept spread despite wanting to force themselves shut.

“It’s better if you relax.” He offered then, though without much sympathy. Sounding almost jaded – as though you were keeping him waiting. 

But then a thumb pressed down on your clit, forcing another jolt to rush through you. 

“Women like to be touched here, right?” He rubbed crass circles into it – worse than amateurishly – rough patterns that bore no real intention of making you feel good. 

Then his mouth slid from your mouth, down your neck – only to sink teeth in your tit.

“And here~” He giggled while nomming your nipple, rolling the little nib between his teeth before flicking over it with his tongue again and again, sucking on it harshly.

None of it made you relax like he’d suggested. Either way, he continued to sink his length one thick chub at a time as fast as your hole allowed. And soon enough, he reached your end before your hole could reach his. But that was no issue…

The hand on your clit, cupped your mound instead – and beneath it, where warmth pooled, you felt inner things alter – change, rearrange, allowing the giant member inside you to sink deeper even though you knew there couldn’t possibly be any deeper to go.

“Wow~ look at that…” He awed when his pelvis smushed against your mound – kneading into your clit as he pressed a curious hand down on the bulge he was making in your belly.

Strings of drool stuck from his lips to your chest – and a sick look pooled in his eyes.

Thicker and thicker breaths left him. He swallowed thickly. Barely blinking.

“I think I get it now…” His voice had shed its humorous tone, now sounding soft with something you didn’t want to have the attention of. “It’s like our souls are playing together…” 

His hand stroked your stomach – like he was petting something.

“Feels good.”

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere smut #yancore #yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk mahito #mahito smut #mahito #yandere mahito #mahito x reader #mahito jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen mahito #jjk imagines #jjk headcanons #jjk headers

[18-toe-beans]

i haven’t processed this fully yet so like i’m not ready to have a full discussion about it but… i’ve got a take… and it’s that maybe people shouldn’t throw around the term “borderline torture” casually… especially to someone who has been through child torture… idk it just feels out of line and i can’t place the - why - … maybe bc i haven’t fully processed who knows.

#personal posts #tw discussion of torture