Tag NSFW/18+ Female masturbation, LSD, questionable medical practices, post-traumatic stress disorder, and obsessive-compulsive disorder
You spend a restless night where the present blends with the past. You see Eddie playing D&D with the boys. You see your mother walking you to school, with your perfect clothes, your perfect life. Your perfect grades. You see Brenner again, his haute couture suits. His icy, manipulative gaze. But above all, you see Henry Creel again. You see every nuance of him. His eyes. His hair. His perfect suits, his hands that you want on your body. His full mouth that you want in every part of you in dirty ways you've only read about in your forbidden books. You wake up hot in the middle of the night with your panties soaked with your desire for that man who is your teacher. The only one who understood you. The only one who accepted you. Forbidden. Sinful. You know he'll never want you. Not like this. You know that if that happened, he'd lose his career and his reputation. But now, in the cell Brenner has chosen for you, that doesn't matter in the slightest. You pull down your pajama pants along with your panties. Then you slip two fingers inside yourself and start masturbating. You started last year thinking about some actor who now means nothing to you. More of an unsatisfied physiological need than true desire... but with Creel... it's different.
You imagine him there, in that narrow cot with you, naked, intent on kissing your neck, then your breasts. Then your belly. Your thoughts are abstract, incomplete. Pages of forbidden books. Unripe desire mixed with inexperience. Your parents did everything to keep you under their strict control, even when it came to the opposite sex. Fewer complications. Less chance of you making mistakes. Less chance of a scandal over a pregnant daughter. This too has always been controlled. Princess dresses. Girlish hair. Surfers didn't want you. You were too good a girl. Nerds were scared of your family and couldn't stand the comparison with who you were. Unapproachable, perfect. But it was all a lie. You pump your fingers into your lustful pussy, starting to moan and move against your soaking hand, and those words, those forbidden, sinful words, come out of your panting mouth. "Please, Henry, yes, like that, please... please, continue!" You moan, then come. You relax, still half-naked, on the narrow bed, catching your breath, your hair disheveled and sweaty. "I love you, Henry," you say to nothing, like a silly little girl. You slowly fall asleep, lulled by a forbidden fantasy. By an unspeakable game that will never leave those white walls. Do you love him? You don't know. Do you desire him? Yes, you desire him. You desire him from the first moment you saw him. Now you admit it to yourself. You like that man. He makes you feel a physical desire you've never truly felt. It doesn't matter that it's just a fantasy. You don't know that Brenner saw everything through the hidden camera.
Disturbing music wakes you up. A sort of alarm clock. You stretch in bed, confused, then sit up in disbelief when a recorded voice, feminine but neutral, announces a happy day to everyone in the hospital. You've never experienced anything like this before. Usually, nurses knock on the door. But not here. You get up, wash yourself in the small shower next to your room, and go get dressed. Nervously, you opt for a simple candy pink tracksuit. You feel ridiculous, but you don't want to dress like a hooligan or the good girl you used to be. Then you tie your hair in a braid, regretting the dye you'd done just out of rebellion. It's too bright, too intense. Too... red. But you can't help it. You leave the room and find a man dressed in black waiting for you. "Good morning, Y/N. I'm Thomas, and I'm your date," he says neutrally. You study him carefully. After all, a date sounds like a jailer. He has a military look and that black suit doesn't convince you at all. "I... okay," you say. The man looks at you. "Of course it's fine. Brenner's orders. There's no arguing here. Breakfast then meet in room B11." He says dryly. You understand that's not an option. You follow the man in silence, studying the environment. You notice nurses dressed in white rushing somewhere but you don't notice any other patients. Strange. Usually in other hospitals the corridors were full. You arrive in a huge white canteen. But no one is there. You sit down uncomfortably. "And now?" The man gives you a look. "Wait here," he says and then comes back with a tray containing a load of sticky porridge and... that's it. "You look at that disgusting thing in disbelief. "This... is breakfast?!" you ask angrily. You were used to much better and your stomach is hungry after the sushi stunt. You doubt that mush will fill you up. "We all eat this stuff here. Hurry up. Brenner is not a patient man. He should have arrived by now. "He times everything with that damned... watch of his" Thomas says scornfully "So he doesn't live here?" The man looks at you curiously "Of course not, girl. Hurry up. I don't have all day" With a grimace you start eatingAs soon as you're finished, Thomas hands the tray to a cook.
You want to report him. At least the food was good at the other clinics. Either Brenner is a cheapskate or a health nut. You fear both. You follow Thomas cautiously to Brenner's office. The man knocks three times, then after a "come on," you're let in. Brenner is there, behind his desk, and you notice a strange clock nearby. So it's true. Brenner times everything. Maybe he suffers from OCD. You sit down cautiously. Brenner smiles. "Good morning, y/n. Did you sleep well?" His tone, for some reason, oozes mockery. Thinking back to your lustful fingers fucking your pussy, you turn red as fire. "Yes, everything's fine," you cut him short. Does he know? No, he doesn't know. How does he know? Brenner studies you. "A tracksuit. Excellent choice. You understood the right spirit of this place. Comfort and practicality above all. Comfort dresses, but not the crap you were wearing. But... I would opt for a neutral color. White or gray." You look at him nervously, wanting to run away. "Grey is fine," you say, thinking back to those horrible tracksuits from the gym at your old school. "Well, now we can start. But first, some orange juice," Brenner says, moving a glass towards you. You look at him cautiously. The only time you accepted a drink didn't end well. "I..." you stammer, but Brenner smiles. "It's just some fruit! I don't have any complimentary sweets, and the kitchen is a bit... rigid. I want to make you feel at ease. Drink, girl," he says harshly. An order. You decide to obey rather than stay there. You empty the glass, which smells strangely of plastic. "Good girl. You know how to be obedient. You'll need it here with me. I have no patience with rebels, and the more you hinder your medical journey, the worse it is. Now we can begin," he says.
Brenner pulls out a series of images from under some documents. You suppress a grimace. You already know that test. "The papers of Rorschach... really?" Brenner looks at you coldly. "No comments, Y/N. Now what do you see?" You respond quickly to each spot of color. You've done it so many times you've lost count. As you answer, Brenner takes careful notes. You notice that his handwriting is neat but very small. Strange. Doctors usually write terribly. Your head is starting to feel heavy, though. Maybe it's the lack of food. Maybe it's that stupid test. Brenner looks at you smiling. "You did really well, Y/N. Now another test. Come to the other room." You follow him out of his office until you reach a white room where there's a hospital bed. A nurse leads you up, and as he does so, you tear up the paper. "Now relax, Y/N. We're going to do an EEG to monitor your brain activity," Brenner says calmly. It's a procedure you're familiar with. Boring and painless. After all, your head has suffered damage. You let them put on the cap with the electrodes and wait for the usual commands. You breathe. You look at the lights. But none of this happens. You feel more and more confused, more and more sleepy. When Brenner starts his random questions, you're practically in a trance.
Brenner watches you as your gaze becomes increasingly confused due to the LSD in the glass. It's a psychedelic drug that always gets great results. It doesn't matter that it's about to be outlawed. He's done wonders with Henry Creel and his case of PTSD and psychosis. He'll do wonders with you too. Brenner starts with simple questions: "What's your favorite flower, Y/N?"
"The rose," you reply dreamily. "What do you think of when you think of the color red?" he asks you in a low, hypnotic voice. "The sunset in Miami. But also the belt Kali was wearing the other day." Brenner continues methodically with other questions. You talk about memories of school, of home. Even your grandmother or TV series. Eddie's name is often mentioned. But soon Henry's name comes up. "What do you associate the word glasses with?" You look at him, smiling wildly. "Henry." Here Brenner becomes attentive. He knows perfectly well what you've been up to in the solitude of your little room. He knows you're attracted to that man. How could you not? He's objectively very handsome. He takes after his mother." And tell me what feeling you associate with him?" You smile again. "Warmth. Protection." Interesting. Brenner hopes it won't become a problem but an opportunity. But his projects are different. "And with colored lights? What do you associate with colored lights?" Here you stiffen and lose your smile. "Strawberry milkshake," you whisper, scared. That's when everything descends into chaos.
Brenner is always the same👿
The proposed test is a psychological test where you have to guess shapes from spots of color. There is no right answer.
Yes, I admit it! I got the alarm clock with the creepy music from Squid Game😆 I couldn't resist
In season four, it's clear that Brenner has a sort of chronometer. Both in the crossword puzzle scene and in the scene where Henry gets his tattoo. Furthermore, in TFS, he has many traits of obsessive-compulsive disorder (or so the actor who played him said). Perhaps that's where Henry's obsession with the clock comes from, as well as for Captain Midnight? After all, I think Brenner structured Henry's life in the lab as a sort of prison with rigid temporal rules. It would explain Henry's aversion to time, which has remained inexplicable.
Part 11 Forced hospitalization .Sedatives. Dysfunctional family. Golden child.
Tag NSFW/18+
Follow Creel until you reach a nondescript door, which he angrily throws open. Inside is his office.You look around, wondering what exactly you're doing there and why Creel brought you to his office. You focus on the environment. It's spacious, bright, and full of books. It's not cold like Tanner's. On his desk is a family photo. You can see the boy from the musical next to a little girl dressed in blue and two parents before Henry, with a wave of shame or perhaps anger, lowers the photo. "I didn't mean to snoop," you accuse him. Henry looks at you. "I don't like people looking at that photo," he retorts. His attitude combined with your pain and tiredness makes you lose your patience. "Then don't keep it in the desk, right?! If you don't want anyone to see it!" Henry claps his hands, making some pens jump. "I'm your teacher! I demand respect!" After runs a hand through his hair. You smile defiantly, trying NOT to imagine what you'd like Henry Creel to do to you on that desk. You really need to set those damn books on fire. You put your feet up on the desk and then take out a stick of gum, just like you did with Brenner. But if Brenner looked at you neutrally, Creel explodes. "Get your feet off my desk! How dare you?!" You don't obey immediately, but instead look at him defiantly. "Why are we here?" Creel looks at you furiously but seems to be asking himself the same question. "Spit out the gum. It's not good for an already stressed stomach." You obey. Creel goes to a corner and you notice a small kitchenette. You watch in amazement as he starts boiling water and slices some lemons. Then you remember. He no longer has a family or a woman to take care of him. He probably learned to make do under Brenner's guidance. Or maybe he just went his own way. He seems stubborn enough to do it. When the lemonade is ready, Creel serves it to you in a blue cup with an Air Force guy saluting. His motto is strength and honor. You study the cup, astonished.
You don't immediately understand who this guy is. But he's definitely not a scientific genius. From a professor, you would have expected a serious mug. Brown. Or at most with a quote or a print of a city or art. But this guy..." Who would he be?" Henry Creel dodges your question with his ears on fire and begins his rant. "It's lemonade! It will help your poor stomach. Sushi should be banned by law! It's dangerous. All raw foods are, even vegetables if not washed well. There are so many dangerous bacteria. You don't mess around with these things. Mom always said to eat porridge, well-cooked red meat, Ovaltine, and jellies. Safe foods. Healthy foods. Milk. A little coffee, but not too much. And instead now... sushi! I also ate McDonald's sandwiches on the sly, but sushi! Things from another world! You have to eat healthily and responsibly." You decide to challenge him again. He sounds like a grumpy old bachelor. "And Brenner?" Henry Creel stares at you. "Brenner... well, Brenner's diet was even more restrictive. But doctors are like that. But you'll notice tomorrow. Do what he tells you. It can be bizarre." Here, Henry Creel suppresses a grimace. So he knows you know his past. At least part of it. "But you had an argument." Henry points to the cup. "It's none of your business. You obey. Do what he wants and leave him to his... research. But above all, obey me. You don't listen to me. We've started off on the wrong foot and I can't allow that." "But one word struck you." "Research?" Henry Creel sits down in front of you. "He's a doctor. Every patient is research. He won't harm you." He almost seems cautious. But then he looks at you very badly. "Now, I read your file. I read the before... and after. You have potential. You had excellent grades. You were..." here you stop him "a person I am no longer. We'll see what I can do about the grades. Is there still detention left?" you say smiling. Creel looks at you coldly. "Of course. You're only here because you're sick. And I'm not Potter or Tanner. You're the one who brings out the worst in me. So I'm giving you two days off. Today and tomorrow of course." Creel suppresses a grimace, remembering that it's your day with Brenner. "Y/N, you need to calm down. You've been here for two days and you've already caused trouble." A cold shiver runs down your spine. "What are you trying to tell me?" Creel looks at you almost with pity. "If you continue like this, your parents have ordered you to be hospitalized. You will remain in the hospital and will no longer attend university. I advise you not to do it. Don't waste the best years in that place. You need friends. Sunshine. Life. This is how you truly heal. Not with hospitalizations. So try to be civil. Otherwise, you know what awaits you. All it takes is a signature. Your parents can have you hospitalized even if you are an adult. Finish your cup." You obey, feeling your stomach tighten even more. "Who was this guy anyway?" You ask again. Professor Creel is serious. "Think back to my words, y/n. You're playing with fire. You're not the one holding the upper hand. Now go to your room and rest," he says. You get up, say goodbye, and then leave, feeling worse than before.
You walk the corridors, in shock. You remember perfectly that after that unspeakable episode you ended up in a hospital for a month. You remember everything in a muffled, confused way. The days blended into each other, night became day and vice versa. There were few moments of lucidity without sedatives. Your parents had said it was necessary, and perhaps in hindsight it was true, but they promised themselves they would never do it again. A shrink? Yes. Forced hospitalization? No. And instead they are just lies. A normal person should believe their parents and not a history teacher who targeted them, but you know all too well what your parents have become. The golden child is no longer their perfect child. Now she is a disgrace to the good name of the family, so they removed you. Not thrown away, but hidden in a distant university. But it's just a test. It wasn't normal for Brenner to hospitalize you two days a week. After all, you're not sick and you don't take medication. You undergo psychotherapy. But it was just a trap. University is a decoy. The truth is Brenner. It's always been Brenner. And that's fine. OK . No more rebellion. No more distancing yourself from yourself, even if that person is gone forever. You can't be the golden child anymore. But you can't be a thug either, or you'll be hidden forever. So you have to be... normal. If there's anything normal left in your life. You open the door to your room and freeze. Dr. Brenner himself is there waiting for you.
You look at him. He's wearing a classy charcoal suit. It gives him a sophisticated air. He's similar to Professor Creel, it makes you sick to your stomach. But Creel is genuine, even if irritating, while this man is slimy. He's cold. Every smile he makes doesn't reach his eyes. He's ruthless. He doesn't care about people, just results, he's completely devoid of empathy. You wonder how Creel could have lived with a man like that. "And what you doing here?" You ask, cold. Not hostile. You don't want to end up in that hospital. But cold. Brenner turns to you with one of your erotic books in his hand. "Interesting reading. Is it yours? However, I find it an inappropriate way to experience the opposite sex. Sometimes practice is more important than grammar." His tone is thick with mockery. Does this man know you're a virgin? Is it written on your documents? You know it's written. "It's just a book, and it's not mine. Maybe it's Robin's," you say. Brenner smiles at you sarcastically. "You're a terrible liar, y/n. A terrible liar." You know it. You've always lied badly. "I... Owens was supposed to come," you counter. Brenner places the erotic novel on your bed. You shudder. It's a test, but you don't give him the satisfaction of hiding it under the bed, where it was supposed to be. "Did you go through my things?" you blurt out angrily. Brenner smiles again. "Of course you did. I'm your psychiatrist, and looking at your history, I had to make sure everything was... in order. For Owens... I decided to come here in person to inspect your things." To take pieces of you. To study you. To see any danger? Maybe. "I know things didn't start well on campus. But you have one last chance. If you behave , you can stay for the next month. Otherwise, there are other arrangements." You looks at him coldly."I'm go to you " Brenner nods. "Smart girl. You know, I much prefer this disdainful version of you to the little rebel version. That version is more suited to scapegoats. But the former golden girls? They remain princesses through and through." You look at him as if he's gone mad. "What is you talking about?" Brenner places a black skirt and a shirt on the bed. "That's fine. I'm talking about a dysfunctional family. The scapegoat is the family member who is always wrong, always tortured. If they run away, they become rebellious and self-destructive. The golden child, on the other hand, is the promise. The person who always has to be the best in everything. The trophy to show off. And you... you were. Top of the class. Best in dance recitals. Busy at school. But then... when a single mistake ruined everything, there was no forgiveness. There was punishment. So, Y/N, you are an interesting case of a golden child. But I'm not treating you for that. It's just one more element. Now you change youself ." He tells you. You stare at him, astonished. "With you?!" Brenner looks at you mockingly. "Of course not, you naive little girl. I'll wait outside. I'll give you three minutes." That's when the door opens and Eddie enters the room, astonished. "Y/N? What are you doing with Brenner?" You start to speak, but Brenner stares at Eddie with contempt. He catalogs everything about him. The hair. The rebel look. The combat boots. And condemns him. But he breaks into a fake smile. "Eddie Munson, right? Pleased to introduce myself. I'm Y/N's biological father. I was just taking her home." Eddie stares at the scene, frozen.
Captain Midnight's mug 👀👀👀
And Papa has moved other pieces... that man is more and more wicked
In the Mister Whatsit fan fiction, we had the perfect example of the scapegoat in the dysfunctional family. A person bullied and tortured for being different becomes an outlet for everything that's wrong in the family... now I want to focus on the other side of the coin, on the other victim: the golden child. The idealized child upon whom extremely high expectations are placed. The person who receives love only if he or she delivers concrete results. The person who must be perfect... always and in any case. 😔
Henry doesn’t like being rough and mean with those he loves because it makes him feel too close to how the Shadow/Mindflayer wants him to be. In this essay I will-
"You want Vecna to be in them "SCANDALOUS" clothing and your housewife while I want Vecna to be in majestic clothing and step on me we are not the same"
YESSSSS-UH. OF COURSE I DO. He looks fabulous in majestic clothing but he is a SEXY MF THAT NEEDS TO WALK WITH HIS CHEEKS OUT. I see his potential. We already know he can be dommy in a classic Oscar de la Renta and I want that. But he could look so cutely pathetic in some tight lil booty shorts with a white crop all subby style.
So YES, we are not the same. But that is the beauty of seeing the range of sexuality in Vecna
