#hypersensitivity
I always underestimate my hyposensitivities. I can be faint from heat and still not feel hot. My tourettes can cause me to slap myself so hard my ears ring and I’ll hardly feel the pain. I cannot imagine how these things must feel to neurotypicals, nevermind for autistics who are HYPERSENSITIVE to those things. It’s just so crazy to me that I have such a different perception. To hypersensitive autistics, you have my respect.
Like, I can be hypersensitive to some things. For example, if something burns my tongue, I feel it for hours, or even until the next day. And being hyposensitive has its drawbacks. I cannot be trusted to manage my own body during the summer because I can’t tell when I’m hot or thirsty. But being hypersensitive to those things? In June? Respect.
I always underestimate my hyposensitivities. I can be faint from heat and still not feel hot. My tourettes can cause me to slap myself so hard my ears ring and I’ll hardly feel the pain. I cannot imagine how these things must feel to neurotypicals, nevermind for autistics who are HYPERSENSITIVE to those things. It’s just so crazy to me that I have such a different perception. To hypersensitive autistics, you have my respect.
“It is both a blessing And a curse To feel everything So very deeply.”—David Jones,Love and Space Dust
(viawordsnquotes)
Dissection, by Iness Rychlik.
A White Rose (Pt. 7)
(This series is created using the prompts from @summer-of-whump)
Continued from here
CW: Restraints, stress position (brief), vague threats, bruises, hypersensitivity
Nicholas returned about a half an hour after Killian left. He took his time in Nicholas the chains and finding the keys to the cuffs.
“You been crying?” Nicholas asked as he started to unlock Shea’s wrists.
“… Yes, sir.” It was obvious. Even if Shea denied it, Nicholas would find out momentarily anyway.
“Did anything happen after the group left?”
Shea’s heart started to race. So it had been a test? Had he passed? “S-sir, one of the guests came back and tried to convince me to run away.”
Nicholas paused unlocking the cuffs on Shea’s ankles. “… Excuse me?” His voice sounded tense.
Was it not a test then? Shea was confused. “O-one of… of the guests came back and took the chains off. H-he… he tried to get me to leave with him, sir.”
Nicholas moved in front of Shea and grabbed his face, forcing Shea to look at him. “Who?” His voice was like ice and it made the blood freeze in Shea’s veins.
“I… I-I’m sorry, sir— I don’t remember his name.”
“Then what did he look like?”
“I-I… ah, I-I didn’t see his face.” Shea lied. Nicholas hadn’t set this up and Shea wasn’t about to get Killian in trouble. What Nicholas did to him was admissible by nature of what Shea was, but he feared Nicholas wouldn’t restrain his anger against a human any more than he did against Shea.
Nicholas’s expression changed. “Why are you such a fucking liar? You don’t know his name or his face? And you expect me to believe that one of my friends was in here, trying to rescue you?” Nicholas laughed.
Shea felt relief calm his heart as Nicholas went back to uncuffing him. “Sorry, sir.”
“You know I’m gonna have to punish you for that, though.”
“Yes, sir.”
Nicholas ran his hand up Shea’s back once he finished unlocking the cuffs, pressing his fingers onto some of the bruises he passed, then stroked a hand down Shea’s wing.
Shea gasped involuntarily as a shudder ran down his spine.
What on earth??
“Did you just try to pull away from me?” Nicholas asked, his voice bordering on snapping.
“N-no— no, sir— I don't—” Shea trailed off. What was that? He tried to think back to when the last time someone touched his wings was.
He couldn’t remember. Master Wilson never really touched him unless it was to slap him across the face or pull him by the arm. Nicholas was never allowed to touch his wings or hurt him before Master Wilson died. Since Master Wilson’s death, Nicholas had been much more interested in beating the hell out of Shea’s face and torso than anything to do with his wings.
Nicholas took a fistful of Shea’s feathers and pulled him back. Shea screamed.
Shea hadn’t screamed in years. Had he ever screamed? He didn’t know. He’d never felt pain this bad before. It was like every sensation in his wings was multiplied tenfold— he knew it wasn’t like this normally.
If Shea touched his own wings or if they brushed up against a wall, it just felt normal. He started to cry aloud as Nicholas finally released his wing.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Nicholas asked, pulling Shea’s hair so his head tipped backwards to look at him. “You’re not usually such a crybaby.”
“I-I-I’m sorry, sir— I’ll sto-stop…”
If Nicholas decided to pull Shea’s feathers again, however, Shea doubted he could keep that promise.
Nicholas didn’t pull Shea’s wing again, but he did draw his hand slowly down the length of the wing. At first, Shea reflexively jerked away, but he consciously focused on not moving, knowing it would only irritate Nicholas. Shea shivered, whimpering quietly.
“Your wings aren’t just delicate, are they? They’re also hypersensitive.” Shea could hear the smirk in Nicholas’s voice. “You’re going to regret that I found out about this.”
