#clone whumpee

[redd956]

Mini Whump Prompt 153

"What am I?" The hollow clone of whumpee inquired to whumper, analyzing themselves through the mirror.

"You are my love of course. You've simply lost your memory."

"I'm sorry that I don't remember you then.", They allowed themselves in whumper's embrace, resting their head against whumper's chest, and listening to the quickened heartbeat. Even the hum of whumper's laughter was warm and full of vibrations, buzzing against the clone's face.

The clone explained, "I want to love you.", while whumpee could do nothing but watch through the screen, still trapped in their restraints.

[whumperofworlds]

Whumper kidnaps Whumpee and creates an exact clone of them to send to the team to fool them and to figure out where their headquarters is.

The clone acts and looks exactly like Whumpee, except that they don't have their quirks. No one noticed this... except for Youngest.

Whumpee usually gives them a secret handshake to Youngest, but this clone didn't do it when Youngest asked them to do it. Youngest chalked it up as them being stressed... until it was nighttime.

Usually Whumpee kisses them a goodnight forehead kiss, but they didn't. Or that they look through some of their favorite books to read tonight but Whumpee chose one that neither of them liked. Maybe Whumpee didn't even say goodnight to Youngest.

That tipped off Youngest that this is NOT Whumpee, and Youngest secretly tells the team that Whumpee was acting strange, and that they suspect that it wasn't them, but no one believed them.

Meanwhile, Whumper forces the real Whumpee to watch as their clone acts around the team, and Whumpee's heart sank. Would their team figure out that the clone was a fake in time?

[whumpy-wyrms]

whumper who kidnaps whumpee and replaces them with a clone to make sure nobody will ever come looking for them because nobody even knows they’re gone

[whumpninja]

I just had an idea for lab whump: clone whumpee. A whumpee grown in a lab to be a test subject. They’re one of many test subjects so they’re easily replaceable, and they were made for science so researchers don’t really think of them as human. There could also be a multiple whumper and/or whumpee scenario with multiple researchers and/or test subjects involved in one test. Whumpee has never known anything else, so they might not even think this is strange, and might get confused when caretaker rescues them. I also just think it would be cute for whumpee to have lots of basically siblings in recovery. There could be multiple caretakers too if there are enough whumpees.

-🌷

Hi tulip anon!! (Can you tell I’m cleaning out my inbox?)

Ooh, this one hurts me deep. The sense of being a “replacement” or “spare parts” is one that I’ve felt myself, but I’ve never considered bringing it into whump before. I love it though! Immediately gave me the vibes of like…how much do you have to suffer before you become a person? You look like a person, but they say you’re not, so what they’re doing to you must be to make you a person. But you don’t like it, it hurts, but you can’t say no because you’re not a person yet. Who is the person you look like? Will you ever meet them? Whose image are you made in?

Tulip anon…I may just end up writing this one. Thank you!

[scratchandplaster]

Imagine a clone Whumpee:

A copy of a gone loved one, artificially grown in a lab and designed to fill the endless void that's left in Whumper's heart. Their child, lover or long-passed family member could be replaced by another version, one Whumper can keep close and safe from the world.

But maybe Whumpee wants to finally have some freedom or learns the truth about how they came to be. What if they don't act like the original; maybe have a flaw in their design?

Whumper doesn't want history repeating itself, so restrictive measures have to happen before anything can hurt their precious Whumpee, much to their discontent. Tension rises and as Whumpee tries to leave, the self-fulfilling prophecy ensues.

So what if Whumper messed up again?! They can always make a new one 🧬

[muyru-iru]

(I forgot one thing to add/lmao)

[jedi-lothwolf]

Augusnippets Day 11: Whumpee wearing Caretakers clothes

Fandom: The Clone Wars

Summary: While in a mission on a frozen planet, Cody falls into a lake. Obi-wan knows it's important to keep him warm.

    "Cody!" Obi-wan sled over to him as he fell under the ice. The thickness of the ice was hard to see under the snow. One of the men helped the jedi grab a hold of Cody and pulled him back to the surface. They dragged him away from the opening.

"Are you alright?" Kenobi asked. Cody didn't answer at first. Suddenly being submerged in freezing water had taken his breath away. He just listened to Obi-wan talk. Talking to the men, he told them to find a place to shelter them from the harsh and cold winds. They agreed and went to find a place to set up camp for the night.

As Obi-wan wrapped his clock around the man, Cody finally snapped back to reality. "Obi-wan?"

"Yes love?"

"You're going to get cold" he shivered.

"Oh I'll be alright. Let's get you someplace a little warmer. Then men are.teying to find cover."

Cody pulled the cloth closer to his body. It made him feel a little better. While he couldn't feel the clock's soft texture, he knew it was there. After all, he had felt it many times before.

Helping Cody stand, Obi-wan pulled him close. "Let's find the men."

[the-bar-sinister]

consider, clone whump. Where either the whumper, or the whumpee is a clone, or they both are, or they're not sure which is the clone, and which isn't.

I'm just kind of imagining the implications of being beaten and tortured and destroyed by someone who has your face. Your memories. Or do you have theirs?

Or the feeling of doing violence to what seems to be your own body, externalized.

[pixelatedraindrops]

I did a collaboration art with @kazinsblog ✨

She made the sketch and I lined/colored it. I even tried to be a little ambiguous and attempted to make detailed backgrounds for the first two panels. (then went back to simple and flat in the third)

I tried to draw out Makoto’s crazy penthouse in Kanai tower, referencing some screenshots I had on me. First panel is the open door of the bedroom leading to the main area, while the second panel I tried to draw out Makoto’s bed. I headcanon that he uses all the pillows on his side of the bed if he’s unwell, and uses the turquoise ones to prop himself up

Makoto, what is your house? XD

Anyway, the comic illustrates Yuma taking care of a sick Makoto. He runs out to get medicine for him, but comes back to him working despite his poor health, worsening his condition. He looks even more pale, and is drenched in sweat. (I gotta make ‘em look as ill as possible lol) This sends Yuma into a mini fit scolding his homunculi twin endlessly. Then he shoves the medicine he bought down his throat xD (that was a little addition that I made) The brothers are fighting lol

It turns out kazin and I share a similar affinity for sick whump, as well as targeting Yuma and Makoto. So we may make more comic art collabs in the future. I had a lot of fun lining and coloring this c:

[ask-the-courtesy-class]

Courtesy Class & Beyond: A Primer

“Courtesy Class” is a Star Wars: Clone Wars AU on Ao3(link in the blog desc above), revolving around two main concepts:

1) Palpatine is discovered early, and his main plot of starting galactic war is foiled by the Master-Padawan dream team, Kenobi and Skywalker. Senator Bail Organa becomes Chancellor, while Kenobi and Skywalker are able to repair their relationship as family without Sith influence.

2) The contract for clone production, no longer needed for war, is renegotiated between Kamino and the Senate, and the clones are put into slavery instead. Many Jedi Masters and Knights are given clones personally, as well as many Senators.

The main fic primarily focuses on 2224(Cody)/Obi-Wan and Padmé/7567(Rex)/Anakin, but includes many other platonic or secondary character interactions. Obviously, as this is a series revolving around interpersonal relationships, lack of autonomy, and the concepts of consent and sentience, there are Content Warnings:

- Whump, and associated trauma

- Implied-to-explicit physical, mental, and sexual abuse

- Sexual slavery

- Brainwashing & dehumanization

- Physical & psychological torture

- Discussions of reconditioning & decommissioning

- Dubious to lack of consent(no noncon in main ships)

If all of that sounds interesting and/or curious, and you’d like to know more, this is the blog to ask! If you have a question for a specific character you can address them by name or numbers, or groups of clones or Jedi all at once.

Currently we have two main blog-runners: Seraph(🪽), the main fic-poster and AU creator, and Crow(👐), beloved inspiration and co-creator of behind the scenes lore. We’re both also open to questions, and each have a clone OC to worldbuild with alongside the canon cast and fic. While the canon clones are also available for questions, especially in regards to the fic timeline where 2224 and 7567, alongside their owners are the main characters, these are our fun side projects for brainstorming and whump:

Seraph’s clone(🌅): CC-5968, aka “Lambchop”, owned by Jedi Master Pong Krell.

Crow’s clone(🌌): CC-1114, aka “Spooky”, owned by Jedi Master and High Councilor Yoda.

[whumpshaped]

caretaker taking care of their own clone, a whumpee

tw self-deprecation, cloning, not-quite-human whumpee

It was jarring. Caretaker was sure that no person on the planet could ever be prepared to see themself battered and bleeding, not even on pictures, let alone in real life. And then to have to take care of– of themself–

"I'm sorry," Whumpee said quietly. "I'm sorry, I know I'm an abomination, I stole your– your face, and, and, I, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to–"

"Hey, hey... It's okay. You didn't do anything." They reached out slowly, resting a gentle hand on Whumpee's shoulder. "I'm gonna bring my medical supplies. I'll help you."

Whumpee was very quiet while they worked on them; eerily so. They weren't a perfect replica of a human, that much was clear. Caretaker wouldn't have been able to tell from just looking at them, but now that they were closer, and they took a look at their injuries, they realised that the insides had been modified. Maybe the creator thought those weren't as important as the cosmetics. But other things were amiss as well, like Whumpee straight up not breathing–

They shook their head a little. They could think about that later. For now, they had to save themself– the fake them– the guy. They really needed a name, preferably as far from their own as possible.

Admittedly, it was difficult. The injuries were easy enough to treat, but god, it was mentally tough. They'd spent their life loathing themself, how they looked, how they felt, spent years thinking no one would ever touch them so gently, that they weren't worth it. Now, working so hard to save their replica, it was the ultimate test of self-love. Or at least self-care. Whumpee felt like a separate enough person that Caretaker could take their issues seriously, but they were too similar for them to be even mildly comfortable.

"There. That should do it," they said after a while, leaning back in their chair with a heavy exhale. "You should feel better within a couple days."

Whumpee nodded, but stayed deathly still, as if they were afraid that any movement could be the trigger that finally set Caretaker off.

"Are you... somewhat okay?" they prompted.

"Y-Yes. Thank you."

"I'm not mad at you, you know. For looking like me."

"Oh..." Whumpee averted their gaze, biting the inside of their cheek. "I thought... you might be. You looked... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed. You just looked so... disgusted with me."

Caretaker swallowed. Well, fuck. Maybe they were going to put that 'Journey to Self-love' workbook to use after all.

[dangraccoon]

You Promised

Day 13 ~ multiple whumpees ~

Omega & Rex

Word Count: 595 Content: episode rewrite (it gets worse), TBB's chips activate on Bracca, knives, stabbing/slashing, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, including the death of a minor!! Because of that, I am marking this one as 18+, Minors DNI

The scanner whirred until it hit a high-pitched buzz. Omega watched as Hunter’s reassuring smile twisted into a pained scowl.

“Hunter?” she whispered, reaching out to him. He batted her hand away. “T-Tech, I think–”

She looked up at Tech, stopped short by how he clutched the side of his head, his ever-present datapad falling to the ground. She looked to Echo only to find his face scrunched up, his head held between his hand and scomp.

“Omega, we need to go,” Rex hissed. “Now.”

Omega looked around the room as her brothers started to move, all coming to the same upright stature. Rex grabbed her arm, dragging her out of the way as they all started towards them.

They ran through the ruins of hallways, Omega just on Rex’s heels. They could hear the others charging forward. 

“Hide in here,” Rex panted, nodding towards a doorway. “I’ll hold them off.”

Omega ran into the room, watching terrified as Rex drew his pistol.

“You’re in direct violation of Order 66,” she heard Hunter say.

It’s not them. It’s not really them, she reminded herself as she shook.

“All traitors to the Empire will be executed,” Echo added.

Omega heard heavy footsteps and blaster fire, then the hiss of steam followed by her brothers’ coughing. Tears dripped down her face as she pushed her way under a pile of rubble.

While the gas temporarily held back the others, Echo artfully dodged his old captain’s stun shots, wrenching the blaster from his hands as he got close enough.

Rex tackled him to the ground, grappling with his ARC.

“This… isn’t you,” he grunted, wrestling him into a tight hold. “Wake…up, Echo!”

Echo jammed his scomp into Rex’s side, twisting it as the captain yelped.

“Traitor!” Echo hissed.

Echo grabbed Rex by the chest plate, hoisting him up just in time for the space between his pauldron and chest plate to catch a vibro-knife that flew from the dissipating fog. He cried out as he fell to his knees. 

Omega could hear her heart beating fast–faster than she thought it could. 

“Echo,” Rex’s strained voice pleaded. “Brother, please. This isn’t you–it’s the chip!”

“Traitor.”

She heard the hum of a vibro-blade, a horribly wet choke, and plastoid armor hitting the metal floor.

She gasped, covering her mouth with both hands to stifle the sob that ripped through her.

“Fan out and find the kid,” Hunter ordered.

She heard them split up and for a brief moment, she thought she might be able to breathe again.

But then she heard it; the faintest hint of footsteps entering the room.

Hunter.

She held her breath more than ever.

His near-silent footfalls inched closer to her, and she realized she stood no chance at hiding; he could hear her heart pounding, smell her fear. She was the Hunter’s prey and he was toying with her.

The bent panel sheltering her was shoved aside, tearing a scream from her throat.

“Hunter!’ she pleaded as she backed away, unable to get to her feet. “You said I wouldn’t be alone! Y-you promised!”

“Conspiring with traitors makes you guilty of treason,” he muttered. He closed the short distance between them, grabbing a fistful of the collar of her tunic as he lifted her in the air.

She struggled against him, eyes wide with horror, tears streaking down her face.

He slammed her to the floor. 

Omega groaned as the world spun, her unfocused eyes finding him standing above her.

Her hand reached out to him.

“P-please.”

His knife was the last thing she saw.

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Thanks for reading! - River

Whumptober 2024 Masterlist DangRaccoon Masterlist Taglist Form Read on AO3

Tags: @nekotaetae @lokigirlszendaya @get-wr3ckered @jediknightjana @idoubleswearimawriter @lucyysthings @unstable-kiwi @6oceansofmoons @l3xi3luv @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @winter-phoenix1995 @nomercyforthewarrior @padawancat97 @flowered-bicycles @error6gendernotfound @techs-goggles9902

[killacharacterbingo]

Order 66

This prompt is based on this scene from the movie Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith. In the Star Wars universe, the Jedi Order was a religious order devoted to the Light side of the Force (an energy field created by all life and binding it together). The Sith was also a religious order, but this one dedicated to the Dark side of the Force, leaving both orders at odds with each other due to their opposing interests.

At one point, Jedi Master Sifo-Dyas came in contact with an ancient artifact which gave him a vision of an impending threat to the Balance of the Force, and consequently the Jedi Order. His concerns were dismissed, so he took matters into his own hands and clandestinely ordered an army of clones be created in preparation for this event. This project included a behavioural modification chip placed in clones with the intent of preventing clones from being given orders by rogue Jedi. Master Sifo-Dyas was later killed by the Sith, who took over the creation of the clone army to modify the purpose of the inhibitor chips so they would instead prompt clones to obey Order 66.

Order 66 was a contingency plan the Sith concocted to eliminate all Jedi. Should a clone be instructed to "Execute Order 66," their chips would compel them to kill the Jedi they had been serving under so far. Order 66 ultimately wiped out nearly all the Jedi and allowed the Sith to gain dominion over the galaxy.

Mind control, hypnosis, programming, and anything conceivably related to this fictional event or any of its characteristics falls under this prompt.

[whumpy-wyrms]

The Last Lab Rat #17: Close Your Eyes

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content: lab whump, captivity, clones, drugging, dehumanization, nonsexual nudity, murder mention, restraints, experimentation, mind control, noncon body modification, eye whump, medical whump, winged test subject whumpee, creepy scientist carewhumper

teehee Dew finally gets ice cream in this one yay

(if you can’t read this because of the eye whump, here’s an eye whumpless summary!)

— 

Anton was up late into the night, getting his test subject’s new clone ready. As Dew slept, Anton had injected him with something that’d make sure he wouldn’t wake up in the night during this ordeal. He didn’t want Dew awake and watch another clone come to life. He didn’t want Dew to watch Anton set another version of him free.

The cloning machine was on the other side of the lab anyway, so Dew would hardly be able to see it from his room. Still, it was a necessary precaution. Dew was already going through so much pain; he didn’t need more stuff to worry about.

Anton was far too familiar with making clones. He’d spent five years of his life alone in his lab with nobody to experiment on besides himself and his clones; he’d grown familiar with the process of making and breaking multiple versions of himself. He’d grown used to not viewing these things as real people, because they weren’t.

The process was always the same. Inject a DNA sample into the machine, and wait a couple of days. The clone would come out with all of the memories of its original, it would… most of the time be an exact copy. Of course, Dew’s clone couldn’t be an exact copy of him now, not with his wings, so Anton had to do some tweaking. Make a clone of the old clone; a copy of a copy. Easy enough. No harm, no foul.

In the early days of making clones of himself, there was a recurring problem Anton had noticed. There were too many times where a new Anton would see himself standing before him, lab coat bloodied and hair disheveled, and know right away what its pathetic life would be used for. There were too many times where the clone would fight back, try to outsmart him and escape.

He needed a way to keep himself safe— from himself— so he implemented something into the machine that sedated when they first came out. It kept them weak and docile, lessened the shock of being a test subject, and kept them unable to fight back. It’d come in handy now, as well.

The machine whirred to life, lights lighting up and beeping. Anton didn’t miss that sound in the slightest. It brought him back to his darkest times, times he honestly wouldn't mind to forget completely, if he hadn’t already.

After a few moments, the clone was ready. Anton swallowed his nerves and walked up to the machine.

“Hello,” Anton said, helping the new Dew step out of the machine.

“Hi,” the clone said, looking up at Anton with wide, curious eyes. It stood in front of him, calm and relaxed. It wasn’t wearing any clothes, but it didn’t care. It just stared ahead. So innocent. So blissfully oblivious to the horrors just under its nose.

“Do you know your name?”

“It’s Dew…” The clone looked around, curious eyes dancing across the strange and unfamiliar laboratory. Though, it didn’t look scared. It turned its gaze back to Anton. “Where am I?”

“Don’t worry your silly little head about that,” Anton said, patting the clone on the head. “Put these on.” The scientist handed the clone some folded up clothes, and stepped away.

It felt wrong, to Anton. This wasn’t the Dew he had grown familiar with the past couple months. It didn’t have top surgery. It didn’t have wings. It was just a lie made to keep his friends at bay. All Anton saw when he looked at this thing was all his hard work gone. This clone wasn’t the real Dew, and for that, he despised it.

Anton shook those thoughts away. Of course this wasn’t the real Dew, that was the point. The real Dew would be safe with him, here. He never needed to think about clones again after this.

After the clone was dressed, it started looking around again, expression noticeably more dazed than before.

“Woah, what’s that thing?” It said, looking closely at a giant cylindrical tube-like vat of green fluid. It was tall, going up all the way to the ceiling, and the glass looked very thick. There was nothing inside of it besides a bright green and glowing fluid that was mesmerizing to look at. And even though the rest of the lab was dark, this lit up the area around them well enough.

“Nothing. Follow me.” Anton grabbed its arm and swiftly led it out of the lab before it could ask any more questions.

“What’s going on?” It asked, catching up to Anton’s pace.

“I’m taking you home.”

“Oh. Who are you?”

“…It doesn’t matter.”

“Oh.” Besides the pair of footsteps, there was a long silence as they walked up the stairs. “This place kinda reminds me of the strongholds in Minecraft… Hey, I’m kinda cold.”

“We’re almost there.”

Anton led Dew’s clone to his car and sat it in the passenger seat, put its seatbelt on, and shut the door. It had stopped talking now, seemingly too tired to ask anymore questions. As Anton drove, he couldn’t help but periodically glance at the dozy, docile thing sitting next to him, looking out the window at the dark forest. It had no idea what was happening. It was almost cute.

“I’m sleepy.” The clone yawned. The repetition of the trees going past the car was almost hypnotic.

“I know. Just relax. It’ll be a long drive.”

“Okay,” It said softly, resting its head against the cold window. “G’night…”

Anton gave a bittersweet smile, and watched its eyes flutter shut as it drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

In around four hours, Anton would be dropping this clone off at its house. He would wipe its memories of the night, and it’d live its life as Dew, its friends none the wiser.

He just had to drive back to Dew’s old house. It was easy.

Anton had tried to ignore the horrible feeling in his gut, his memories of the gory and grotesque scene his lab rat had caused in that room, only a few days ago. He had tried to forget it, tried to focus on the fact that his test subject had escaped, and what had to be done about it. The murder could be easily taken care of; disposed of, cleaned up, and forgotten about. It was in the past. It didn’t matter anymore.

And yet…

Visions of Dew’s bloody and broken corpse flashed through Anton’s mind. The way his favorite little lab rat was lying lifeless on the carpet, blood pooling under the limp and stiff body that was littered with stab wounds, knife only inches away from the scene. The way the light in the poor guy’s eyes was gone. Just like that.

The way Dew was dead.

Dew was dead. Not the real Dew, of course, but that didn’t matter. Anton had seen a Dew’s bloodied corpse laying in front of him, and it sickened him.

He had tried to ignore it. There were more important things to worry about than his feelings— than those horrible feelings of sadness and grief flooding through him at the sight of his test subject, dead on the ground. More important things like the fact Dew had escaped, and needed to be brought back home. The fact he had to punish Dew for disobeying.

But how could he possibly punish someone who was hurting so bad to the point he drank one of Anton’s vials, or shot himself with one of Anton’s inventions? How could he possibly hurt someone worse than they were already hurting? He couldn’t.

Of course, Dew knowing he had been cloned and that there was nothing to do to escape his life as Anton’s test subject was probably punishment enough. It was obvious now he felt completely hopeless; Anton had stolen each and every ounce of hope the man had left by replacing him with a clone and threatening his friends.

So Anton didn’t punish him for escaping. He didn’t punish him for his obvious disobedience and attempts to get out of experiments— too caught up thinking about if Dew had grabbed any other vial, any other invention, it could’ve been so much worse. He didn’t want anything bad to ever happen to him. So he’d been kind, comforting. And it seemed to have worked. Dew was content here, he seemed to finally accept things, which was all he really wanted.

Anton arrived at his test subject’s old address. The clone was still fast asleep, and it took a few light nudges of its shoulders to wake it up. It was alert now, as normal as it could be, acting like the spitting image of Dew. The two of them got out of the car and it questioned him, but Anton was quick to hit it with a quick blast of his memory eraser. He left it by the curb of its house, and drove around the corner out of sight. Memories of that night left its mind, and it stood alone in front of its house. Shrugging its shoulders, it walked inside, out of sight, and Anton began his ride home.

. . .

The scientist had been preparing for an experiment all morning, and Dew had no idea what it was.

Anton had agreed to take a few days off and let Dew rest, giving them both a much needed break and start experiments again once he was ready. Of course, he’d never be ready, but if it was going to happen anyway, it was best to get it over with, and Anton seemed to be itching to start again.

It had to have been almost lunch time by now, and without Sasha to keep him company, Dew spent the morning curled up in his room, drawing and listening to music, blocking out the rest of the world and hoping whatever Anton had planned for him wouldn’t be too agonizing.

Without anything to be hopeful about, that was all he’d been doing lately. That was all he could do, now. Anton didn’t seem keen on letting him outside anymore, and Dew was too petrified to ask.

Dew could’ve spent more time with Anton the past few days. He’d thought about the birthday party he threw him, and their time spent outside together, playing with animals and flying, and when they had watched Dew’s favorite show together upstairs— the last time he had interacted with Anton before he’d ruined everything with his stupid escape.

The truth was, Anton had been fun to be around sometimes, and at this point, Dew wasn’t afraid to admit it. He’d been scared before, when he still held on to the possibility of being free, but now? If he really was stuck here forever, maybe it was in his best interest to use Anton’s friendliness to his advantage. Dew hated the man, but at least he wasn’t cruel. At least he was trying to keep him happy.

If Dew was really going to be a test subject forever, as depressing as that sounded, he should make the most of the rest of his life.

So he sat on his bed, waiting apprehensively for Anton to finish preparing his torment and bring him into the lab. As he doodled in his sketchbook, he heard the scientist’s footsteps coming towards his room. He put his sketchbook down, brought his knees to his chest, and stared at the door.

“Okay Dewey,” Anton walked in, smiling menacingly, yet giddy with excitement. “It’s all prepared. Let’s go.”

Dew slowly stood up, hospital gown already on, and stared incredulously at the scientist as he pulled out a long chain.

“W-what is that?” Dew asked, taking a nervous step back.

Anton sighed. “The past two days you have hurt yourself using the things in my lab. I don’t know if I can fully trust you in there unrestrained anymore. And this experiment has to go perfectly, I don’t want any more delays, okay?”

Of course. Dew had lost all of Anton’s trust, it only made sense for him to be extra restrained in the lab. That didn’t stop his heart from racing, though. “O-okay.”

Anton smiled and clicked the chain around both of Dew’s wrists in front of him, then the two of them headed into the lab. Dew ignored the sinking feeling in his stomach. This was his life now, and he had to be the best test subject he could be so that Anton would be nice to him. He had to be good. He had to.

He hopped up on the operating table, and was told to lay down. Anton placed a pillow behind his back so his wings would be cushioned semi-comfortably. Dew was thankful for that, at least.

As Anton started messing with the restraints on the side of the table, Dew looked up at him with teary eyes. “What are you doing?” he asked meekly.

“You’ll have to be restrained for this one,” Anton explained, tightening the straps around Dew’s legs. “Can’t have you moving around too much. This too tight?”

“N-no.”

Dew weakly protested as Anton tried grabbing his arms. The scientist shot him a look, and he meekly complied, allowing the scientist to spread his arms flat against the table and strap them tightly in the restraints. Dew shuddered as Anton gave the straps an extra tug just to make sure they were secure.

Anton took out his tape recorder and pressed record. “How are you feeling?”

“It’s cold,” Dew whimpered, goosebumps running across his skin.

“Don’t worry.” Anton ruffled his hair. “I’m sure you’ll forget all about the cold after we begin.”

The scientist began rummaging around the tray of tools, and Dew’s nervousness got the better of him. “W-what are you gonna do to me?” he asked.

Anton looked up, a giddy smile creeping across his face. It made Dew’s stomach drop. “Eyes are fascinating, aren’t they?”

“Um, what do you mean?” Dew mumbled.

“Eyes. They’re so fascinating, so complicated and intricate. We rely on our eyes to see the world around us, but… what if there was more? What if there was a way to see beyond the threshold of reality? I want to test something I’ve been working on for a while now, and I think I’ve finally figured out how to do it.”

“You mean— test on my eyes? You’re going to experiment on my eyes?”

“Yes! I won’t tell you the exact details though, I want it to be a surprise.”

As much as Dew wanted to behave as well as possible, he was beginning to panic. “N-no! No, Anton, y-you can’t! They’re my eyes! Please—”

“Remember that one time you asked me to give you night vision?” Anton joked, nonchalantly waving around a long syringe. “Don’t you want this?”

“No!” Dew screamed, but quickly realized that resisting would only make things worse. That’s right, he had to behave. He took a deep breath, trying to calm down, and looked back up at Anton. Maybe they could talk this through? “Wait— wait. Can’t you j-just test this out on a clone instead? What if something goes wrong?”

“I would, but that’s why you’re here, silly.” Anton booped his nose. “And nothing will go wrong. I’ll make sure of it.”

“No— c’mon, Anton! I th— I thought we were friends!”

Anton furrowed his brows, looking at Dew with a sad expression. “I need to do this, Dew. You’re my test subject. This is what you’re here for. …How about, after this, I’ll get you some ice cream? How does that sound?”

“B-but— Ah!” Dew yelped and squeezed his eyes shut when he saw Anton’s hand come towards him, only for him gently taking his glasses off. Still, that was not a good sign.

Dew peaked an eye open to see Anton picking up a giant, blurry needle.

“Wait— wait wait wait wait WAIT!” Dew cried, imagining all sorts of horrible things Anton could do to his eyes, and knowing this would probably be the worst thing he’d have to endure so far. He struggled against the restraints fruitlessly, only tiring himself out. “I— I’ll do anything, anything but this! Please!”

Anton sighed. “C’mon Dewey, be a good test subject.” As Dew continued pleading and blabbering as if his life depended on it, the scientist took out a roll of duct tape.

Dew’s eyes went wide. “Wait! Wait wait wait, please! Please n—”

“Stay still.” Dew’s breath hitched as he was rendered completely motionless. A chill ran down his spine as the scientist put a strip of duct tape over his mouth, smoothing it out with his hand. Dew glared at him, and Anton ruffled his hair, smiling. “There you go.”

He was eerily still as Anton prepped the syringe. Dew whimpered into the gag as Anton brought the needle closer, grabbed his arm, and injected a strange fluid into his veins. Dew only hoped it would ease the horrible pain that was sure to come.

“This’ll just make you feel a little groggy. A small sedative, that’s all it is. But I need you awake for this, can you stay awake for me?”

Dew nodded, already feeling drowsy, as tears fell down his cheeks.

“Good. Let’s get started, then.” Anton said, snapping on black rubber gloves.

The scientist picked up a small glass bottle that was filled with a very bright blue liquid. It was neon teal and glowing bright, with small bubbles swirling around inside it. Anton took an eye dropper and filled it with the substance. Then, Dew hazily heard a command to keep his eyes open, and he realized he was unable to close them no matter how much he wanted to.

The scientist was smiling to himself and saying something into the tape recorder, something Dew was too dazed and terrified to make out.

His chest heaved as he watched Anton’s hand slowly approach his eyes. He quickly turned his head away, only causing the scientist to wrench his head back with a rough hand entangled in his hair. Dew wanted nothing but to squeeze his eyes shut, but he couldn’t.

His eyes burned with tears. Everything felt like a hazy dream, far far away and yet so real. A wave of terror flowed through him. Anton held the eyedropper above one of Dew’s eyes and squeezed it, causing a couple of drops of that glowing blue liquid to fall into his eye. 

No no no NO NO NO! Dew couldn’t move. It felt like his eye was on fire. Something was coating his entire eyeball inside and out and he couldn’t get it off of him.

Anton repeated the process with Dew’s other eye.

Anton looked down at his test subject. “Hey, hey, don’t cry, Dew. Stop crying.” His tears dried up immediately after.

Dew could only watch in horror, his vision blurry and pained, as the scientist picked up another object and brought it towards him.

Dew’s vision was fading, and so was his consciousness. He hoped that only implied he would fall asleep soon. Yes, sleep, that sounded nice. Dew tried to relax as the room went dark, as he let Anton do whatever he wanted to do to him. He felt himself drift off, succumbing to the drugs. He barely heard the scientist’s voice anymore. He was so, so tired.

Right as Dew was about to close his eyes, he felt a sudden sharp sting on the bottom of his face. Anton had ripped the duct tape off.

“Wake up, Dewey.” It was the scientist’s voice, shaking him and his mind awake. That’s right. Dew was supposed to stay awake.

Anton loosened the straps enough for Dew to partially sit up, and held a cold flask of liquid to his lips. “Drink this.”

Dew moved his head away groggily. “W-w-why are you doing this?” Dew sobbed. “M-my eyes! What did you do to—”

“Shhh,” Anton said. “You’ll find out soon. Now drink.”

Dew didn’t have a choice but to gulp down whatever strange substance Anton had just given him. It tasted juicy, a strong sour, yet empty and cloudy at the same time. He all so suddenly felt lightheaded and dull, thoughts sizzling out into nothing. His head felt foggy, and he felt far, far away.

Dew didn’t know what happened after that.

. . .

In situations like this, during experiments like these, it was easy for Anton to get carried away, fueled with the excitement of creating something new. It was easy to be blinded by the power he held, and forget all about how his poor test subject felt. Experiments like these were what fueled him, what reminded him of why he still did this in the first place. Testing the limits of the human body, creating things nobody ever thought possible. This was why he loved science.

Not a single ounce of hesitation went through Anton’s mind when he took out a spoon and brought it to his test subject’s face. Right now, Dew was completely out of it. He wouldn’t remember any of this, which was a huge relief. At least he wouldn’t feel what was about to happen.

Anton brought the spoon closer to Dew’s glossy eyes. And…

Whatever was in that glowing blue liquid seemed to have worked, creating a link between the eye and the brain, no optic nerve needed. He was holding his test subject’s left eye in his hands. His eye.

It was easy to assume there was no coming back from this. Dew may as well have just lost an eye. But Anton was sure he’d be able to pop it back in place eventually, that was part of the experiment, after all.

He held the slimey, squishy, disgusting thing in his hands. It stared back at him, brown eye wide and still and petrified. It disgusted him. It made him feel sick to his stomach at the thought of permanently making Dew lose an eye. But the thought of this experiment being a success outweighed any guilt or remorse he felt, replacing it with the exhilarating thrill he’d been searching for. He held the eye between his thumb and forefinger, giving it a slight squeeze, just to see how it felt. If this experiment went right, everything would change.

He talked into the tape recorder as he prepared for the next step. An injection here, a bit of lasering there, he worked quickly and meticulously, lost in his own world. Once he was ready, he popped Dew’s eye back into place, and repeated the steps with the other one. One last injection with another strange substance, and Anton stepped back to take a look at his handy work. If all went well, things would start happening any minute now.

And he was right.

All of a sudden, Dew started writhing against the restraints, screaming at the top of his lungs. The straps keeping him restrained to the table pulled taut, and Anton was glad he decided to make them extra tight this time. Feathers flew everywhere as he flapped his wings in the midst of the struggle. The sound of nails scraping against metal filled Anton’s ears, but that was nothing compared to the screams. Anton hadn’t hurt such visceral, gut-wrenching screams in a long time. It made him feel sick, but he couldn’t stop watching.

All too quickly, something bubbled its way to the surface of Dew’s skin, bursting out of his forehead with a pop. There was minimal blood, to Anton’s surprise and relief, and he was almost sad that it had happened so quickly.

And then, eerie silence. Dew collapsed down against the table, limp and heavy, erratic breathing turning deep and calm.

Anton approached him slowly, heart pounding through his chest. On the center of Dew’s forehead was an eye. Wide and bloodshot, staring directly at him.

. . .

A few hours later, Anton watched his test subject stir awake, unrestrained and laying flat on the table. He was at his side in an instant, ready to provide painkillers or sedatives or even comfort if needed.

“Dew? Are you awake?”

“Y-Yeah,” Dew said, still feeling groggy. He looked around and started to panic. “I… I can’t see anything—”

“There are bandages covering your eyes, it’s okay. You’re okay. Just calm down.’’

“W-what did you do to me?”

“We’ll talk about that later. First, tell me how you feel.”

“I…” The lack of sight caused Dew to panic as he remembered what was happening before he blacked out.

“Dew,” Anton said, putting his hands on Dew’s shoulders. “Calm down. I’m here. Everything is going to be okay.”

“Y-you— my eyes!” Dew cried, twisting out of Anton’s grip. “What did you do to my eyes?!”

Anton swallowed thickly. This was not going well. “I’ll tell you later. Are you in any pain?”

“I-I… kinda? Everything’s still- still weird. Like, numb, almost. What did y-you do to me?”

“Hm, okay. That’s to be expected.”

Dew flinched in surprise as he felt the scientist grab his arm. “H-hey, what—”

“I’m just giving you something to help you relax. Stay still.”

Not being able to see only caused Dew to focus harder on the injection, unable to drown it out. Dew tensed as he felt a needle enter his skin, and choked back a sob when he felt the sting of the contents entering his body. But, like always, it was over as soon as it began.

“There, that wasn’t so bad,” Anton said. “I should check on your eyes. Try to relax, okay?”

Dew nodded, and Anton peeled the bandage off slowly. He sucked in a breath the second light hit eyes, and he batted the scientist’s hand away.

“Too bright!”

Anton winced. “Sorry.”

“Wait—” Dew lifted his hands up to his eyes and peeled the bandage off. He slowly peaked out, and breathed a sigh of relief when he realized he could still see. Thank fuck. Anton dimmed the lights, but everything still hurt to look at, so Dew covered his eyes again. “I-I can see fine, but- but it hurts.”

“We might need to keep those bandages on for a few weeks, while they heal, and just while your brain and body gets used to… a new eye. “You can handle that, right?”

Dew’s heart skipped a beat. “A— a what?” He squeaked.

“Another eye, Dewey.” He heard it in his voice that Anton was smiling wide. It made him shudder. “I made you grow another eye. On your forehead.”

“What?”

“That’s not the only thing, don’t worry. There’ll be more changes in the coming weeks, which is why the bandages have to stay on. It’s gonna be great.” Dew flinched as he felt the scientist’s hand gently ruffle his hair.

“O-okay.” Dew nodded, numb to it all. A new eye. He didn’t want to think about it. He was just thankful his vision wasn’t gone completely, a few weeks of darkness wouldn’t be too bad.

“Oh yeah!” Anton exclaimed, putting a cold bowl of something in Dew’s hands. “Ice cream, like I promised.”

“Th-thanks,” Dew said. It was vanilla, not his favorite, but he realized he didn't remember the last time he’d eaten ice cream, so he’d take what he could get.

Once Dew was done eating, Anton gently lifted him up and started walking to his room. He wrapped his arms tightly around Anton’s shoulders as a way to balance himself, disorientated from not being able to see and afraid of being dropped. He felt the scientist gently petting his back, probably trying to be comforting. Dew was carried up the stairs, through the door, and gently set into bed. He put his knees to his chest and reached a hand up to itch at his bandages, but Anton quickly stopped him.

“Don’t touch your bandages.” Anton reminded him, holding his wrist away from his face.

“They’re really itchy,” Dew said. “Do I really have to keep them on?”

“Yes. Your eyes need to heal.” Anton sighed. “I don’t wanna do this but… I don’t know if I can fully trust you either.”

“Do what?”

Dew flinched as he felt something rough and scratchy brush against his wrist that the scientist was holding, wrapping around it tightly. “Hey! What are—” He weakly pulled away, but Anton was stronger.

“Calm down. It’s just so you don’t mess with your eyes while you sleep. I can’t risk this going wrong.”

Dew looked down and allowed Anton to tie both of his wrists together behind his back. “There. That’s not so bad.”

“Easy for you to say…” Dew grumbled, flopping into bed. He curled into a ball, and the scientist tucked him under the covers. He thought he must look so defenseless like this, eyes covered, body restrained, completely unable to see anything coming. He hated being this vulnerable.

Anton petted his head softly, and smiled when Dew leaned into it. Dew wasn’t his clone, but he was still as cute as ever.

“Goodnight, Dewey.”

Dew heard the scientist leave the room and close the door. The click of the lock echoing through his ears. He heard footsteps get farther and farther away from his room, and assumed Anton had already turned the lights off and left the lab. He was alone.

Dew laid there on his bed, unable to move his arms that were restrained behind his back. He was still groggy from the drugs, dozing in and out of consciousness while he tried to focus on anything else but the incessant itching of the bandages and pain in his eyes. But it was dead silent in his room and he wasn’t even able to turn his music on. Unable to see, move, or hear anything, Dew was left to wallow in his own mind until he drifted off into a deep sleep.

. . .

Now that it was late at night, and Anton was by himself, the events of the day had caught up to him. It must’ve been so scary for his test subject, painful as well. Anton had to admit he was a bit blinded by the thrill of the experiment for a moment, and didn’t stop to think about how Dew was feeling. He could tell how much he was hurting, such a distressing and risky experiment would do that, he should’ve been more careful.

Anton felt disgusted with himself. But it’d be okay. Dew would forgive him eventually, and they’d move on, like they always did.

“Hey Anton, are you okay?” Sasha asked. They seemed to always see right through him.

“Yea—” No, he had waited long enough, it was time to tell his friend the truth. “No, I mean… Dew’s back.”

“...What?”

Anton fidgeted with the hem of his sweater. “I brought him back. Your guys' escape plan failed. I’m sorry.”

“Oh…”

“Don’t feel bad. It was inevitable. And there was no way he could live a normal life out there with his wings. I’m just… trying to protect him.”

They were quiet for a moment, then, “Can I see him?”

“He’s asleep right now and… I think it’d be best to leave him alone for now. After the experiment today… he needs time to heal from it. I can’t have anything interfering with the results. Though… maybe after a week or two, some enrichment would be good for him. I know you two are friends, it’s not right to keep you apart.”

“Will he be okay?”

“Yes. Yes, I think so.”

“Well, that’s good. Tell him I said hi?”

Anton smiled. “I will.”

“G’night, Anton.”

“Goodnight.”

— 

eyes are so strange and wacky am i right

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[whump-queen]

someone just gave me the amazing idea of multiple whumpers but it’s all clones of me

imagine how fucked you’d be with multiple clone!akias

[psychologeek]

Whumptober #15+Alt 9: TimKlone bb

No. 15: CHILDHOOD TRAUMA | Painful Hug | Moment of Clarity | "I did good, right?"

Alt 9: Secrets Revealed

Whumptober index inspired by "TimKlone bb" (tim's adventures in K(l)oning) and Who Am I? (to disappear)  (Cass-centric fic). For short: Cass run away from Cain, mutual adoption of the Todds, geta twin, brothers, become an uncle and gain many names along the way. [Weapons don't need names. But this one chooses to.]

Cass is...

(Looking around, muscles tense-ready-to-move, always thinking-)

Scared?

Worried. 

Cass is worried.

Little Watcher is. Different.

Little Watcher is no longer watching. Little Watcher has eyes that look away and body that move slower and no more funny words.

Little Watcher is Timmy. Little Brother. But not Littlest Brother, because there is now Baby. 

(Baby say no baby. Cass say catch me. Cass see anger-hurt-fear. Cass don't call Baby anymore. Say Da-mi-an. Name is important. Cass knows.)

Timmy is also different. Timmy is always away-away-away. Timmy not come to visit. No more Fun With Uncle Eddie. No more words together and dancing.

Timmy is always alone, alone, alone.

(Cass doesn't like it).

~

There is house-under-house in Timmy's house.

Cass think it's funny. And smart. And very very Timmy.

There is Timmy in the house-under-house. And many cans. The one that makes him no sleep long long time.

There is Timmy, and big bags, and computer says "Ninety-Six unsuccessful".

"Suggestions?" Says Timmy. 

The computer says many things.

Timmy walks and walks with body that looks like too much to carry.

"Ini she ate nex at ampt," Timmy says. 

Timmy look tired. But not need-bed-sleep-now tired. Not tired "I fall now".

Timmy look tired like  doing too much with too little. Like a plastic bag with many bottles, about to break. Timmy look tired-scared-can't-sleep, like need to fight and someone looking after and not do all alone.

(Timmy look like before saying Uncle Eddie)

Cass knows what to do.

"Help?"

~

Once upon a time, he tells her, there was a lab and a weapon that was a child that slowly learnt to be a person.

Once upon a time, he says, there was an unnamed weapon that ran away. One that lived in a big tower, but was still lonely. One that had a codename, and a uniform, but not a single set of PJs.

(Weapon doesn't want. Cass remember. Weapon doesn't need. Weapon doesn't choose.)

 

There's a story he doesn't tell, but Cass knows alone.

(Because once upon a time, there were two children by a cold body. 

Once upon a time, there was a broken half that was left alone with a watch that didn't move, no matter how much they pushed it.)

Timmy doesn't have a watch.

There are no words here, in this pain.

There is nothing Cass can say to make Timmy feel better. 

But they can still try:

"I help."

(Like it? I have more mini-fics Whumptober index | And full size fics on ao3. )