Terrorforming || Yandere!Harem X F!Reader

Make A Change

A new week, another pastoral counseling session with Nurse Thorne. Hopefully she wouldn't keep you for more than an hour this time.

"How is Salome?" were the first words out of your mouth after you sat down. You might as well make the most of this opportunity to talk to the director and ask about Salome's condition.

"I'm more interested in how you are," she countered.

"I watched my friend leave camp on a stretcher. I'm not good. Now I'm not saying another word until you tell me how Salome is!"

She asked you several more questions, some pointed specifically to get a rise out of you. But you refused to interact, just sat there looking away with your arms crossed over your chest. The only way to get what you wanted from women like Nurse Thorne and her daughter was by waging a war of attrition.

Eventually, she sighed and said, "Stubbornness is not a desired trait in a young lady, Y/N. But, fine, you win... Salome suffered anaphylaxis from the onslaught of venom. They managed to administer adrenaline at the hospital to save her life, but it scarred her heart and left her with a condition that makes it impossible to even run without being out of breath."

"Will she be returning to camp?" You asked from the edge of your seat. If you were her, you'd stick to urban settings for the rest of your life.

"I don't know. That's up to her and her parents."

You doubted they had any idea as to who put this life-threatening prank into motion. Any of the girls -campers and counselors alike- could have slipped away during meals or activities and hid the hornet's nest in Salome's bed.

Who would want to hurt her, though? She was such a sweet, soft-spoken girl.

You completely deflated, sat back in your chair in defeat. Looking pleased, Nurse Thorne tried questioning you again. "Are you feeling homesick? You must miss your mom terribly."

"Yes and no," you answered cryptically.

"Oh?"

It was obvious she wanted you to elaborate. You thought about refusing, being needlessly difficult, but she did give you information on Salome's condition... So you complied. "I miss home. I don't miss my mom."

"You don't miss your mom?" Her tone was measured, like she was consciously keeping the disbelief out of it.

That's what you said. You weren't about to repeat it for her, not when she obviously heard the first time. "I hate her more than I miss her." Then you inhaled sharply through your teeth and retracted your statement. "That's not true. It's just... I'd hate to miss her."

Nurse Thorne wrote something down on her notepad before asking, "What does that mean, to you?"

"I miss the way she used to treat me before..."

"Before you 'came out?'" She asked. You think she meant for her smile to come across as comforting, but it felt mocking.

You furrowed your brow and put on your best scowl. "You say that like I had a choice in the matter. I never planned on telling my mom anything about Her!"

"Why not? Because you're ashamed?" She asked it almost gleefully. She had the nerve to sound excited that you might feel ashamed of who you were.

"Because it's none of her business!" You snapped in response. But that wasn't quite true, was it? It was because you were afraid. Afraid of her reaction, afraid of her judgement... Still, you never would have guessed you needed to fear her putting you in a fucking conversion camp.

Nurse Thorne seemed to realize her mistake a little too late, retreated behind a facade of neutrality. "Don't you wish you could return to the way things used to be?"

She remained silent as you considered it for a minute, but you ultimately shook your head. "No. We're different people now, her and I. We couldn't go back to the way we used to be even if we wanted to."

The bandage had been ripped off and the wound was exposed, weeping blood and pus. You wouldn't cover it again, opting instead for letting it scab over in the open air.

You wouldn't pretend to be straight, not even to make your mother proud of you.

Whatever Nurse Thorne saw in your expression, it was clear she didn't like it. She tried to get you back on board. "I'm telling you that you can! This isn't you. This is just a behavior. It can be corrected... And once it is, everything will go back to the way they were before!"

You wondered who she was trying to convince here: you or her.

Either way, you rejected her declaration. "My sexuality can't be changed."

"Your attraction can absolutely be changed," she argued, "We just need to rewire your brain. It is completely doable! No one is 'born that way' and, if that's the case, it must be possible to change. Alcoholics change, thieves change, all sorts of people change. You can too!"

There was a long silence after that. Rage boiled in you, but it came out in an unexpected way. In the form of hysterical laughter. You don't know why. It wasn't funny, but you couldn't stop laughing.

"I feel sorry for you," you told her as you gasped for air between giggles. "You're so sure you're right. You're wrong, and you don't even realize it."