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#kind of drugging
puppysmile · 11 months
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this video is putting me in a daze i swear
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netherregionblog · 6 months
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Yeah uhhh what the fuck was that
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emotional-emotion · 1 year
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Seinfeld (1989 - 1998) 6.23 The Face Painter
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avephelis · 3 months
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just troll with it au. because riptide killed my theythemma okay.
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bunnystalker · 3 months
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feline delight (18+)
albert finds you on the streets. too cute to pass up, he takes you home against your will.
a/n; sorry this took so long! hope it was worth the wait :D
cw; half-alive dove maybe eat, cat hybrid!reader, afab!reader, owner!wesker, kidnapping, captivity, stockholm syndrome, drugging, dubcon/noncon, body betrayal, leashing + collaring, reader doesn't wear underwear, manhandling, breeding kink, wesker likes seeing you in pain sorry, no prep (please prep irl), unsafe sex (p in v, clitoral stimulation, creampie, implied multiple rounds)
tags; @4inchfae @thatgirlgames @whiskers-my-beloved @icecream596
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albert never had a penchant for pets, let alone a hybrid like yourself. bringing you in may have been the best thing he'd done in years. you needed a home desperately, regardless of how much you scratched and clawed at him when he'd carried you off to his research facility without so much as an introduction. you hear him rustle around in his pockets with one hand and then, the uncapping of something. before you can look at what it is, a fine needle pierces right into the muscle of your neck. your vision fades within seconds, and you stop scratching.
˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖
you didn't know what to expect, but waking up in a cage clean and clothed hadn't been on your list. you thought you'd surely be dead. but, there you were, with a black long sleeve shirt and skirt, thigh-highs adorning the better half of your legs, and a black leather collar around your neck. looking around, a small bell attached to your collar rings. not moments later, you hear footsteps. you look up at the man who has taken you in- tall, blonde, and very intimidating.
albert crouches before the kennel you're cowering in and looks you over as if he didn't get a good enough look when he bathed you. you hiss quietly and shrink into one of the corners furthest from him, cool metal digging into your back with each attempt to get further away.
behind his shades, his hazel eyes thoroughly examine you. the fear you give off is aromatic with a faintly sweet undertone of something more. gratefulness, perhaps. he did bathe you, clothe you, and put you in a very nice kennel of your own. your collar is a perfect fit, no less, and even though you didn't ask for any of this, it's more than you know what to do with. you've no bruises, no gashes, no injuries. how strange.
he's pondering what to say to get you to calm down. to trust him a little. maybe come out of the kennel, but that would be for later.
"hello." he places a gloved hand on the kennel's top rather carefully, so as not to startle you, and leans in just a bit. his voice is nicer than you would think. a bit nasally, sure, and the accent is cheesy, but he could read you the yellow pages and you wouldn't mind.
"…" your silence makes his jaw clench by a fraction. he'll have to fix that. for now, he'll ease you into things.
"what's your name, little one?"
"haven't got one." you rasp, pulling your knees to your chest and resting your chin atop them. ears flat against your head, your tail swishing- cautious and afraid, you are, and well within your rights to be.
he nods.
"we'll have to fix that, won't we?" he forces a little smile on his lips when you nod. you're not sure why you do when, two seconds ago, you'd have run off if the kennel door was opened. he's smart, he's thought this through. you're not leaving the kennel until you trust him, unbeknownst to you. your tail is ramrod stiff on the cushioned floor of your captivity, and at least he was kind enough to furnish it for you.
˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖
it's hard to trust him even though you know it would be smart to pretend.
he only lets you out to feed you, and from the start, he'd made it clear that if you tried to run, you'd be dead. at the same time, twice a day, he opens the cage for you to crawl out of. he extends his hand to you, looping his gloved fingers around your collar and guiding you to sit by his feet. he links a leather leash through the d-ring attached to your collar and walks you through his home, the environment sterile and hardly lived in.
it's when he puts you in his lap at the dining table and force feeds you that he fills the tense silence. the food itself is good, and you wonder if under different circumstances, you'd want him to be your owner. as you eat, he talks. you are, to some extent, grateful that he feeds you, even if he is only doing the bare minimum.
"have you been good, dear?" he asks, and you nod as per usual. it's rare that you decide to talk.
"good girl." he scratches the spot behind your ear, forcing you to lean into his hand and purr. he chuckles quietly. as he pets you, his stress melts away. you're so cute. a meek, naive little thing that he loves taking care of.
as dinner finishes, he picks you up and keeps you in his arms as he cleans up. you're silent, sedated by the drug he's put in your food, and you're bodering on falling asleep in his arms. a swell of pride of warms his chest as a little snore escapes you, followed by your tail wrapping around his arm.
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day by day, bit by bit, you miss him. he keeps you company when he's not at "work" or whatever that is, he talks to you, he pets you the way you like, and it's nice when you forget about how you got here. the only thing you've come to dislike is the lack of underwear. it's not that he can't afford some, it's that he enjoys your discomfort to a worrisome degree. he likes its easy access, even if he hasn't taken advantage of it (or you) yet.
˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖
he comes around and you find yourself less defensive, thanks to your breeding cycle. you press your face against the bars of your enclosure.
"owner," you whine as he walks past, a spark igniting in your gut. his scent is stronger than it was this morning, and you're hyperaware of the growing warmth filling your body.
"yes, dear?" he stands at his closet, his back to you as he strips himself of his work clothes.
"can i come out?" you paw at the door of your cage, ignoring the rattling noise it causes.
he doesn't respond immediately, letting you stew in your silence for a moment as he finds something more casual to wear. you don't normally ask to come out- this is progress, proof of your trust.
"in a moment. let me get dressed, darling."
it's enough for you to stop whining. your tail swishes happily and your ears perk up when he approaches the cage in grey sweatpants and a black shirt and crouches down to undo the lock to the cage. you practically jump into his arms, purring loud when he wraps his big arms around you and pulls you into his chest.
"thank you." you murmur, nuzzling your cheek against his chest. his smell, like poison, makes you dizzy with desire. the warmth is growing uncomfortable, your ears pinned flat against your head.
he hums in response as he strokes your hair, a purr emanating from the depths of your chest. the heat spreads the more he touches you, pooling between your thighs. he tries not to notice when you rub them together and mewl pathetically.
"is something wrong?" his voice is a match to the flame in your gut.
it's your turn to be silent, trying to even out your breathing despite the overwhelming urge to lean in and take a nice, long whiff of the pheromones he gives off.
"darling, answer me. you know better." he says in a more stern tone, looking down his nose at you.
"… i'm in heat." you state quietly, avoiding his gaze. if you could see his eyes, you're sure they'd be wide and a little bit dark.
"are you, now?" he hoists you up in his arms as he stands, his forearms just under your ass. you're bent slightly over his shoulder. "we'll need to remedy that, won't we, pet?" he chuckles. a chill runs down your spine. just what have you gotten yourself into?
he's not a mean lover, just a little rough. he sets you on his bed and pushes you down with a cold hand to your chest as he moves on top of you. anxiety cools your blood, makes it like ice pushing through your veins.
"wh-what are you…?" he presses a finger to your lips, silencing you, and kisses your cheek.
"i've been waiting a long time for this, darling. it would be wise to avoid making me wait more." there's a threatening undertone to his voice, the burn of discomfort making itself known in your shoulders. he wedges his knee between yours, forcefully parting your thighs so he can trail his hand up them, pinching here and there just to see you flinch, and smooth two fingers along your weeping slit. a hint of a smile makes itself known as you shudder, thighs parting wider to accomodate his hand. his cold digits stop at the very top, feeling for your puffy clit, and rubs slow, tight circles around it.
you hate that it feels good, and you hate yourself for having a breeding cycle. a soft moan leaves you at his light touch, your eyes locked on the hand rubbing your clit. he presses down a little firmer, eliciting a whine from you.
"look, doesn't that feel much better?" he croons, his voice low with his lips so close to your ear. reluctantly, you nod, and that earns you the reward of his fingers rubbing you a little faster. you squirm a little, trying to get more than just surface-level pleasure.
"words."
"y-yes. that feels good, thank you." a hint of malice laces through your tone, but you're grateful for what he's giving you. your face is on fire as only the pathetic wet noises from your cunt fills the air, and you (try to) hide your face in your hands, only to be met with a sharp slap to your cunt. you flinch, the pain subsiding after he continues playing with your cunt. your hands come down from your face and instead grab the sheets.
your stomach tightens, twists into a coil that winds tighter with every pass over your hardened clit. but you can't cum like this, not when your breeding cycle is ongoing.
"owner- p-please, need more." you whine, and albert kisses your cheek as a response, denying you of what you need.
"such a needy thing. fine. you'll get what you want." he takes his hand from your pussy and to the waistband of his sweats, pushing them down rather impatiently, as well as his boxers. weeping, his cock is bright red at the tip from want (how long has he been hard for?) and large. you're worried.
he chuckles at your fear-stricken expression before grabbing your legs and pressing them against your chest.
"be a dear and hold these for me, hm?" he says, and you do as you're told. you hold your legs by the backs of your thighs, pressing them so your knees hit your chest. he strokes himself once, twice to the sight of you spread out for him, your cute cunt drooling. slick drips down your perineum, inviting him.
you watch him slot himself in place, the tip of his long cock dragging through your folds to bump your clit, making you gasp. your entrance clenches around nothing, a pitiful whine leaving you.
"greedy." he shakes his head softly as he lines himself up, and without warning, thrusts himself entirely inside you.
the stretch is worse than you imagined. you flinch away from him, but he grips your thighs and tugs you right back onto his cock. it hurts, and the burn is something you hadn't accounted for. tears prick at your lower lashline. he leans down, his frame practically engulfing yours, and kisses your cheeks.
"don't cry. struggling only makes it worse, you know." he coos, tapping your jaw. you nod softly and wrap your arms around his neck for support, sniffling as the tears trail down the sides of your face. to ease your discomfort, his hand works itself between the two of you again and thumbs at your clit, dulling some of the pain. another moment, and your tears have disappeared.
"y-you can move. m'okay." you mumble to albert's delight. he starts slow, mostly on your behalf, and hisses at just how tight you are around him as he thrusts shallowly into your aching cunt.
the moment you make a noise, he grips your thighs tighter and starts bullying his cock into you quite intensely. the tip of his cock kisses your cervix with every single harsh, downright mean, thrust. he's not doing this for you, and that becomes readily apparent. still, you can't deny that it feels good to be fucked.
albert's quiet, aside from small huffs and hisses of enjoyment. you're so wet, it's making a mess of his lower abdomen and thighs. the lewd slapping of skin on skin combined with your precious mewls and whimpers of pleasure spurr him on, his nails digging into your thighs. his cock brushes against the spongy spot inside you, making you cry out and arch your back off the bed.
"there- a-again, please!" you grab the hand not rubbing your clit and lace your fingers together as the pressure in the pit of your stomach builds and builds, leaving you dumb on your owner's cock. he complies with your request, if not to feel you cum then just to see your pretty face when you do.
he bullies that spot relentlessly, to the point where some of his hair falls in his face. gummy walls squeeze and suck him in more, a loud cry leaving you as you reach your peak. slick gushes from your already crying pussy, thoroughly coating the both of your lower halves. it's dripping from you as he continues pumping into your hole, the schlick noise amplified now.
"w-wait- wait-" you grab the hem of his shirt, but he ignores your protests.
"we're not finished until my precious girl has her cunt filled with cum." he moves your hand away, forcing yourself further into the mating press he's got you in. you can feel every single inch, and how the throb of his dick indicates his climax. a few more sloppy, mean thrusts and he's spilling his seed into you. decidedly, it's a good feeling, and you need much, much more. your heat ceases momentarily, however, as he keeps his cock inside to ensure that nothing leaks out. your tail wraps around his thigh, the end flicking happily.
"i mean filled in every sense of the word, darling." he gathers some of your slick that's coating his lower abdomen on two fingers and pushes them in your mouth, watching with delight as you kitten-lick them clean. a dark grin forms on his pale lips, his length twitching at the sight. it's then that you really give in, that you decide it's better to be this way- fucked full of his cum and brainless. a familiar heat flares in your gut once more.
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batarangsoundsdumb · 2 years
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in my head bruce is faster than the kids and it pisses them off so much. they're in their prime and this 40 y/o guy who sleeps like two hours a night and puts protein shakes in his coffee and calls that breakfast can outrun them
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angelnumber27 · 1 month
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oliversrarebooks · 3 months
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chemical imbalance
You know that trope where horrifying things are treated as mundane? You know that trope where the whumper is talking around the whumpee like they aren't even a person? This is that story.
TW: alien abduction, alien parasites, body horror, brainwashing, mind control, restraints, tentacles, forced drugging, forced medical examination, complete dehumanization, condescension, defiant whumpee
The receptionist was young and lovely, their skin a fetching shade of blue-purple, and their human host was healthy and smiling, with the dazed, glassy expression that indicated it was well taken care of.
5X2 couldn't help the wave of intense jealousy. Their own human host's gut churned in panic. It was lucid enough to know it was being brought to the doctor, and didn't like the idea at all, stress hormones flooding its fragile body. 5X2 pumped out chemicals to soothe it, beamed calming imagery into its mind, even tried to reassure it through its psychic connection that it was just the doctor, the doctor was going to help it, and hopefully they'd both be feeling better. 
All of their efforts only put the smallest dent in the distress their host was feeling. Well, no wonder -- 5X2 couldn't even remember the last time their poor host had properly slept. They took a deep breath, reassuring their human host that they weren't angry at it, not at all. They loved their host and knew it wasn't its fault it was struggling so hard. The host thrashed mentally, adrenaline rising, coming dangerously close to waking fully as 5X2 wrangled its consciousness back under control.
"I'm 5X2-YLL, and I'm here for my 3100 appointment," they said to the receptionist, hoping they couldn't tell how much trouble they were having with their human.
Sympathetic waves rolled from the receptionist as they looked 5X2 up and down. Oh, they could tell. 5X2 knew their human looked an absolute mess, with a wild expression, deep bags under its eyes, and poor hygiene. The past few days, 5X2 had even taken sick leave from work, embarrassed to go out in public in this state -- that's how they knew they had no choice but to make a doctor's appointment.
"Right this way, 5X2. The doctor is running a bit behind, but if you'll just go into this examination room, they'll be with you shortly. Please have your host change into this medical gown... if you're able."
"Yes, thank you." The door clicked shut behind the receptionist as 5X2 looked around the small examination room. It looked like any other doctor's office, but they couldn't help but notice that the examination chair had formidable looking restraints on it. They supposed it was to be expected for a doctor who specialized in disorders of host control.
The far too lucid human noticed too, and all of its muscles tensed as it signaled to every corner of its body to escape, escape, escape. 5X2 had no choice but to inject yet another low dose of paralytics into its bloodstream, just to make sure it couldn't actually act on that misguided impulse. 
The paralytics kept the human from moving, but also meant that 5X2 had to do much more manual work puppeting its body, and they were so, so tired. With their host's clumsy fingers, they pulled off their shoes, shirt, and pants, and slipped on the flimsy medical gown. The human was expressing distress at having their physical form exposed, of all the ridiculous things. Sometimes 5X2 wished that its constant fears at least made sense. Instead, it was scared of the doctor, of being nude, even of the everyday, ordinary sight of other human hosts with their passengers atop their heads, tentacles nestled neatly in their ears and euphoric expressions on their faces.
I'm trying to help you, 5X2 conveyed through their psychic connection for what seemed like the billionth time this cycle.
All they got back in return was terror, anger, and the intense desire to go home.
We can go home after the appointment, 5X2 reminded it, beaming soothing images of their quarters, the cheery artificial sun lamp, their collection of exotic plants, their vibrant fiber arts, the beautiful view of stars from out of their window. Their host had always been calmed by these things in better days, but it wasn't working now. It didn't make any sense to 5X2 -- if it wanted to go home so badly, why didn't it respond to sensory landscapes of home? 
Surely it wasn't lucid enough to desire its human habitat...? The human habitat was a death world compared to the safety and comfort of the space station.
There was a knock on the door, and the doctor walked into the room. They carried an air of authority about them, perched on top of a petite human who moved with unusual grace. "Hello, 5X2," said the doctor in a kindly voice. "I understand you're here because you're having difficulty in controlling your human host. Is that correct?"
5X2 looked anywhere but at the doctor, pretending to be very interested in a cabinet full of jars of multi-colored fluids. "Ah, yes, that's correct."
"There's no need to be ashamed. There's a lot of unfair stigma attached to host difficulties, but I assure you that it's a far more common problem than you think. There's no judgement here. Please, tell me about what you've been experiencing."
"My human host is almost completely lucid for most of the cycle," 5X2 confessed, trying to suppress their waves of shame and sadness. "I can't keep it fully entranced, I can't soothe it, I can't even put it to sleep. It's constantly scared and stressed and won't stop filling its body with adrenaline."
"I see."
"I have to spend so much of my energy just keeping it from fully waking, and it's affecting my work and my social life. I can't even relax on my days off, because every time I let my guard down, it decides it's a good time to fight me," they said. "I love my host, but I'm at my limit. I can't go on like this. It's sick all of the time from stress hormones, and I'm constantly fatigued. If there's anything you can do, anything at all that would help..."
The doctor's host nodded sagely. "There's a number of common conditions that could cause symptoms like you're describing. If you don't mind, I'd like to take a blood sample from your host so we can run some lab tests while conducting the examination."
"Of course," said 5X2, holding out their host's arm while the doctor prepared a needle for the blood draw. As the needle grazed the host's skin, the human managed to wrest enough control to jerk backwards, irrationally panicked at the sight of the needle. "I'm so sorry. It's been especially determined to fight me on everything today."
"It's nothing to worry about. I see it all the time. Hosts can be smarter than we give them credit for -- it's probably realized that the doctor's appointment is for putting it back under."
"But why does it fight that? That doesn't make any sense -- doesn't it want to be calm and happy? Why would it want to be stressed and miserable?"
"Oh, it's not that it wants to be stressed and miserable. It's just the natural state of hosts that aren't fully entranced. It's not its fault that it's acting this way -- it just doesn't know any better," said the doctor. "To make the examination easier, it might be best if we strapped your host into the chair, if you don't mind the restricted mobility."
"Not at all. It'd be a relief to not have to suppress their impulses," said 5X2. Their human predictably howled with displeasure, scraping and clawing for any bit of control over its limbs as 5X2 fought its body into the chair and tried to hold it still as the doctor restrained it. It was even managing to resist the paralytics, utterly desperate to escape.
If this doctor couldn't help them, 5X2 was going to lose their mind.
With the host's body securely restrained, the doctor was finally able to take a blood sample. The human's consciousness was thrashing like a wounded dust-moth, but with their body secured, 5X2 could devote their whole efforts to dampening their mental distress.
"If you'll excuse me a moment, I'll bring this to the lab. We should get results in around ten deciclicks."
5X2 tried to relax in the chair as the doctor left the room, but of course their exhausting host was having none of it.
Why are you fighting so hard? they asked.
The answer was always the same.
I want to go home. I don't want to be a host. I don't want to be hypnotized again. Please let me go.
Incoherent nonsense. The poor, confused thing.
"All right, that's taken care of," said the doctor, entering the room and perching on a nearby stool. "Now, may I ask you some questions? How long have you been noticing these symptoms?"
"About a quarter star turn."
"I see. And have you previously sought help for them?"
"...No. I really should have, before it got to this point, but I was ashamed. I thought it was temporary, and that I could fix my host myself."
"At least you're here now. You're doing the right thing," said the doctor encouragingly. "How often does the human sleep?"
"Only once every few cycles, and for only a few clicks at a time. I can't keep it to anything resembling a schedule, either, and it doesn't seem to respond to sedation at all. The only mercy is that it often sleeps while I'm at work."
"And how do you normally soothe it?"
"I think I've tried just about everything. Before this all started, it was so easy -- a quick wash of sedative and neurotoxin, some soothing hallucinations, a little gentle urging of slumber, and it was out in a milliclick. It would normally sleep for half the cycle. But now, nothing works. Not toxins, not hallucinations, not psychic compulsions. It doesn't matter what I do, I simply cannot put it to sleep.  The only reason it sleeps at all is because its own consciousness turns itself off when it becomes too exhausted."
"You say it was easily controlled before?"
"Very much so. It took very well to deep trance, especially if I was listening to music. It enjoyed art and scenery and was calm as can be. I never imagined it was capable of so much anxiety."
"How close is its consciousness to the surface?"
"...Very. It's listening to everything we're saying. It might even be able to understand us. Well, as much as any host is capable of understanding."
"Has it ever become fully awake?"
5X2 hesitated.
"Please, don't be ashamed. I'm here to help you, but I need you to answer my questions honestly. Has it ever become fully awake?"
"...A handful of times," 5X2 admitted. "It didn't get very far before I was able to paralyze it and return it to my control, but... it was so terrifying, to feel my host wake, to take full control from me and do what it wished with its body."
"That's a very traumatic experience," said the doctor sympathetically. "Once we have the main issue sorted out, I recommend a visit to memory alteration to remove the unnecessary fear generation."
"Won't they judge me for losing control of my human?"
The doctor seemed lightly amused. "5X2, it's the memory alteration department. Don't you think they've seen far worse than that?"
"You're right, just a silly insecurity on my part," said 5X2, mirroring the doctor's amusement.
"Let me perform some quick examinations on your host's body while we have you here," said the doctor. "Your host is partially lucid and fearful right now, correct?"
"Extremely so," said 5X2, feeling the horrible squirm in their host's gut at the mention of the doctor examining it.
The doctor waved a small light in front of the human's eyes. "Pupils are very dilated. It's focusing clearly on my light, indicating a high degree of responsiveness. Dark circles indicate a dangerous lack of sleep, and the skin seems unusually flaky and dry. This all matches the symptoms you've described."
They moved around to 5X2's side, using the light to peer into its host's ear. "Everything looks healthy and normal here," they said, giving a slight tug to 5X2's left connector tentacle. "Connection seems firm. I assume it's enmeshed with the correct portions of the brain? You have at least six tendrils on each side of the frontal lobe, three in the parietal, and two in the occipital?"
"Of course, doctor."
"I know it sounds obvious, but I have to ask. Believe it or not, I've had more than one patient that neglected to enmesh the frontal lobe entirely. You can imagine what kind of a state their poor host was in."
"I'm amazed that anyone in this age is so ignorant. That sounds like torture for them."
"You're not wrong," said the doctor, clicking off their light. "From the outside, there doesn't seem to be any issues, but if we can't resolve the problem, we may need to do some scans to check that all of your tendrils are properly connected. It's uncommon, but there are certain disorders that prevent proper cohesion of tendril to host brain."
"I'll subject myself to any tests if it will help."
"I know how intensely uncomfortable it must be to have your host so wakeful, for both you and it," said the doctor. "I'm certain we can help you. It's extremely rare for this sort of problem to be beyond the reach of modern medicine."
A knock at the door, and the receptionist entered the room. "I have the results from the lab for you," they said, slipping out again quickly.
The doctor's host took the readout and looked it over, as 5X2 waited in anticipation and 5X2's host trembled in terror. Finally, there was a wave of satisfaction from the doctor. "I have good news for you, 5X2. The lab results may have given us an important clue to your problem."
"Truly? What is it?"
"You see here..." The doctor placed the readout in front of 5X2. It was full of miniature graphs and jargon that they didn't have a hope of understanding. "Most of the toxin levels in the human's blood were highly elevated -- no doubt due to your efforts to keep it under control -- but one in particular was abnormally low, almost undetectable."
"And that is?"
"In basic terms, it's a powerful hypnotic, the primary toxin used to keep the human mind asleep and docile. Without this important chemical, your host's mind is far more alert than it should ever be. That makes it less receptive to all of your efforts to soothe it, allows stress and fear hormones to build up in its delicate brain, and causes it to resist being put to sleep."
"And that's what's missing?" said 5X2, feeling waves of relief at having an answer.
"It would seem so. The absence of this hypnotic would make it next to impossible to keep a healthy human under trance. It's no wonder your efforts to sedate and entrance your host were fruitless. I'm honestly impressed you were able to walk into my office."
"Is there a cure?"
"There are a few different conditions that can cause this. To start with, I'm going to give you a prescription for a course of medication that should help promote the natural release of this chemical from your toxin glands. It has a few minor potential side effects, which the informational packet will describe."
"No side effects can possibly be worse than what I'm going through now. How long will that take to have an effect?"
"It should be at full strength in eight to ten cycles. We can see how you're responding, then, and I can advise you on a further course of treatment."
5X2 steadied themself. Eight to ten cycles. They could endure eight to ten more cycles.
"But in the meantime, we can simply inject your host with a big, healthy dose of the chemical cocktail it's been missing."
5X2's elation was almost drowned out by its host's panic and despair. "You can do that? You can do that right now?"
"Certainly," said the doctor, pulling a jar of translucent blue liquid from a shelf. "Let me prepare the injection. It's all natural and safe for both of you. I'm sure you're both eager to get some reprieve from fighting each other."
"And I'll be able to put my host to sleep? To keep it under trance?"
"With this extra strength, time release formula, it should be well out of it for the next few cycles, exceedingly simple to control. You can both finally get the rest you need."
"Oh, thank you, thank you, you don't know how much of a relief that is."
No! No, no, no! the human was screaming through their connection. Don't let them inject me with that! Let me go! I want to go home! I need to wake up -- I need to --
"I need to wake up!" 
5X2 felt their consciousness suddenly cut off from their host's body as the human woke. It pulled at the restraints, trying to get its hand free.
"Please let me go! Don't do this!" the human yelled, as the doctor looked on with curiosity.
"Oh, you're awake? Now, now, we're only trying to help you," said the doctor. "Aren't you tired of fighting? Aren't you scared and hurting?"
"I'm scared and hurting because of what you're doing to me! This isn't right! Humans aren't meant to live like this -- you've taken my entire life from me!" Tears streamed down its face. "You're a doctor -- if you have any compassion at all, please listen to me! We don't want to be hypnotized and turned into puppets. We don't want to spend our whole lives sleeping and hallucinating and floating along in a mindless trance. We want to be free!"
The doctor patted its head. "I know this must all seem so scary to you, but it's only because of a chemical imbalance. That's why your passenger brought you here to the doctor, to help you. Your passenger loves you very much and only wants the best for you. Do you understand?"
"No, I don't want this. This is wrong -- please listen!"
"You're going to feel so much better in just a few minutes. I promise. Just trust me," said the doctor, their host easily pinning down 5X2's host's restrained arm and administering the injection. 
"No, please!" 5X2's host struggled uselessly against the tight restraints, its panic reaching a fever pitch, as 5X2 sat in their own mind and watched. "Please! Please listen! Let me go! Let me... go..."
The human host's body relaxed, sagging against the restraints as its control over itself suddenly diminished. 5X2 could feel a lovely sense of peace wash over their host, a sensation they hadn't felt in a quarter star turn. 
5X2, eager to take back its host, sent deep, hypnotic compulsions to fog its host's mind, to sink it into a pleasant daze, to pull it back under their control, and they were delighted when the host responded swiftly and easily. All of that fight, that fear, that anger began to evaporate like mist as 5X2 gently soothed its host into a trance.
You want to be a good host, 5X2 coaxed. You want to stop resisting. You want to weaken your feeble mental defenses and let me in.
I want to... Their host's thoughts were faltering and slow, easy to manipulate, just as they should be. I want to be a good host... want to let you in... want to drop my defenses... stop resisting...
Yes, that's right. Lower those defenses. You're safe, completely safe. You can relax now.
There was only a slight hesitation before the response. Safe... relax...
 5X2 felt the human's resistance melt away, leaving its mind like soft clay in their grasp.
Finally.
5X2 rewarded their host's compliance with a pleasant vision of the ship's recreation district, filled with laughter and games and live music, one that their host used to be fond of before it became impossibly defiant. Their host latched onto the familiar, mollifying hallucination right away, like a young one with its comfort-toy.
Fun... pretty...
Yes, it is fun and pretty, said 5X2. You deserve it, because you're being very good right now. Aren't you glad I took you to the doctor?
Feels... hazy...
And isn't that good?
Mmhmm... good... so good... thank you...
"How is it feeling now?" asked the doctor. "Any better?"
"Oh, yes, that was absolutely brilliant," said 5X2. "It's completely docile and enjoying its favorite hallucination right now. I can't thank you enough."
"Excellent. I'm just glad that worked. I'll make an appointment for you ten cycles from now, and give you the prescriptions for the medication I recommend, along with a course of injectables to keep your host nice and compliant. It shouldn't give you any more trouble."
"That sounds perfect."
"I recommend putting your host to sleep for the next cycle. It must be so fatigued after all of that pointless struggle, and a prolonged period of rest will help it to reacclimate to your control."
"I don't think I need to worry about the last part," said 5X2 gleefully. "It seems so relieved to be back under. But I agree that it needs sleep. Maybe I can get some sleep too."
5X2's host was already flooded with the injected sedative, so they sent a simple but strong compulsion to lull it asleep. Its exhausted mind responded right away, filling it with a deep, irresistible drowsiness, its remaining thoughts dulling and fading as it drifted away peacefully. The cheerful hallucination of the recreational zone would give it pleasant dreams. 5X2 couldn't remember the last time their host had been so quiet, not a hint of stress or nightmares.
It was so charming to feel their delightful host curling up comfortably in its own mind and going to sleep. It reminded 5X2 of how much they loved their host, before everything had gone wrong.
"It worked," said 5X2 in awe.
"Asleep already? I thought so. It was so worn out."
"Thank you again, doctor, for all of your help. My host wanted to thank you, too, before it fell asleep. I can tell that it already feels so much happier."
"It's my pleasure." The doctor released 5X2's host from the chair. 
5X2 stood up, shedding the medical gown and putting the host's clothes back on its body. Control was simple and seamless now, the host's body moving exactly in accordance with 5X2's wishes. They could hardly believe what a difference a little chemical persuasion made. With their newfound freedom, a part of them wanted to go out and indulge in all of the fine pleasures they had missed out on for so long -- but really, they knew it would be far more prudent to go home and sleep.
They'd do that after they picked up those prescriptions, of course. They weren't going to let a simple chemical imbalance ruin their life any more.
Masterlist
It's always the weirdest things you need to get out of your system, right? I don't know where this came from, but I'm tempted to write more about this alien parasite society. Like how they acquire humans, and how other pairs are doing...
What would you do if you had a passenger of your own?
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slutforsilverfoxes · 8 months
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It's a bird! It's a plane! It's another intentionally suggestive Hotch x gn!reader scene!
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“Oh my god,” Aaron groans, voice muffled by the pillow his face is pressed into. “Don’t stop, baby, please.”
You bend at the waist to kiss the spot just behind his ear and murmur, “Yeah? Feels good?”
“That feels fucking incredible,” he affirms with another groan that reverberates through your body from the point where your hips meet. “What are you even doing back there?”
With a giggle, you mold your hands down his muscular back and explain, “It’s called petrissage, love. Part of my spa day was learning how to give a proper massage.”
“Emily got you that gift certificate for your birthday, right?”
“Mhm,” you hum, your fingers now trailing along the taut cords of muscle that make up his shoulders, the tension practically melting away beneath your touch.
“Remind me to give her a raise.”
__________
AH tags 🖤 @gothwifehotchner @iyv-ray24 @mrs-ssa-hotch
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nc-vb · 9 months
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I will never~ be the same~ after watching Mignon~ that shit was beautiful~
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aresonist · 1 year
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vex magic f
bonus convex content + transcript under the cut
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transcript:
G: Hey, Scar I was just thinking that-
S: Grian.
G: Yeah?-
G: Oh shit, were you taking a nap? Did I wake you up?
S: No, I uh- I am under a very strong influence of vex magic right now
G:
G: Oh my god, Scar. You're HIGH on vex magic?!
S: hello???
G: HAHAHA
bonus transcript:
G: I texted Cub and told him that you're high on vex magic. He said he's on his way.
S: But I'm not HIGH, there's just too much magic in my system and-
C: hey
C: oh, he's high as shit.
G: I told you!
S: NOOOOOOOOOOOOO
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swollenbabyfat · 1 year
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Thought of you
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sunflowerius · 2 months
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going through the five stages of grief right now. how are yall doin.
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shiftythrifting · 11 months
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I HAVE FOUND THE ABSOLUTE WORST BOOK IN THE HISTORY OF PRINT
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The my pillow guy wrote an autobiography and then made the cover a horrifying winky-dink, this exists now
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tumbly-s · 2 months
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Trigun body horror week day 5 — LIMBS
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hypewinter · 2 months
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Something had corrupted him. He knew that. Something had twisted his obsession into something similar yet very foreign. He had become more aggressive and off-kilter. He knew he shouldn't be ok with doing these things. His old self would be horrified. But Danny couldn't remember why. He didn't remember why it was wrong to kill. Why it was wrong to follow this man's orders. And he most definitely didn't understand why his body seemed to scream at him to get away from the sickly looking green. Especially because the sickly green was one of the few things he remembered.
He remembered getting curious, getting too close, and getting dragged in. That was all. He didn't remember what happened before nor what happened after. By the time he started remembering things again, he was already under the influence of the weird man. It is for this reason it was so comforting to be close to the sickly green and yet the very fibers of his body seemed repulsed by it.
Danny didn't understand what was so wrong about the sickly green. He didn't remember why he was supposed to avoid it. So he kept as close to the sickly green as possible. He also kept to the strange man and followed what he said. There was a deep gut feeling that told him not to. And the funnily dressed people continued to say stay away too. But he couldn't. Because what if he distanced himself only to never find something familiar again? What if he left only to be surrounded by things he couldn't understand?
He was lost in a sea of unknown, desperately clinging onto his little island of familiarity. He dared not let go and risk sinking into the depths.
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