#parent death mention

[cliophilyra]

14 and 19 for the intimacy prompts! xo @hardly-an-escape

Initimacy Prompts

@hardly-an-escape & @bidisasterevankinard chose almost the same ones (14 & 19 and 13 & 14) so I have combined them! Thanks guys for the prompts - sorry it has taken sooo long!

This is a little bit sadder than I planned but I hope it's sweet enough to make up for that.

13 - Cuddles

14 - Sharing drinks

19 - Back scratches

Updated version now on AO3! I would definitely recommend reading that version instead.

Buck smiles softly as he opens the sliding door to their garden and takes in the view. Tommy is sitting in one of the reclining yard chairs Buck convinced him to buy once they’d made the neglected yard into somewhere they might actually want to spend time. Tommy had rolled his eyes at the garden furniture and planters, hummingbird feeders and climbing plants, but he spends more time out there now than Buck does. His eyes are closed and Buck is pretty sure he’s asleep in the fading evening sunshine. There’s a book on his chest and a bottle of beer half-drunk beside him, condensation pooling on the table below it. Buck’s heart feels several sizes too big for his chest.

Part of him doesn’t want to wake his boyfriend but today hurt more than any day for a long time, and he needs him more now than he can resist. He crosses the yard, carefully swinging a leg over Tommy and sitting down in his lap. Tommy starts awake, his hands flying to Buck’s hips as his eyes snap open.

Buck smiles down at him. “Hey baby,” he says softly, leaning down for a kiss.

Tommy kisses him back fondly, “Jesus christ sweetheart,” he laughs, shaking his head.

Buck runs his hands over his chest, feeling his heart thumping under his palms. Alive. “Sorry,” he says softly.

“No you’re not,” Tommy laughs, leaning in for another kiss.

“Mmm,” Buck picks up Tommy’s beer from the table and takes a long pull, giving him a show as he tips his head back. Condensation dripping from the base of the bottle to run down the neck of his shirt.

“I think that’s mine,” Tommy smiles, reaching up to take the bottle back. He takes a mouthful himself before putting it back on the table and pressing his lips to Buck’s throat, chasing the drops of water down to his clavical. Buck hums, shifting in his lap. “Get your own,” Tommy says with a smirk, moving his hands down to grip Buck’s ass in both hands. Buck moans softly against his neck. Half of him very much wants to just follow where this going but the moment he closes his eyes he’s back there. His breath catches and he stills, breathing in the scent of Tommy’s skin as he tries to push the feeling down and fails, shaking in his boyfriends arms.

Tommy’s hands still immediately and he reaches for his shoulders, pushing him back gently. “Sweetheart?” he says and the concern in his voice is all it takes to bring the whole terrible, horrible, not good day welling up in Buck’s chest. His lips flatten into a line as he tries to hold back the tears.

“Oh sweetheart, what happened?”

“It—it--it was, fuck--,” Buck swallows hard. “There was a woman...she was with her kids...in a car.” He leans forward again, resting against Tommy’s chest, closing his eyes as he listens to his heart beating steadily under him. He feels Tommy nod in understanding.

“She didn’t make it?”

Buck shakes his head, feeling the tears start, damp spreading through Tommy’s shirt under him. He can still hear the cries of the kid, the inhuman wailing as he and Eddie dragged him from the mangled wreckage, away from his mother’s body. He gasps, choking on a sob as Tommy’s arms wrap around him, drawing him closer. He presses his face into his chest, twisting as if he could merge himself into Tommy, make himself a home inside him.

Tommy doesn’t say anything, he knows enough to know there’s nothing he can say. Instead his fingers trail up and down Buck’s back, blunt nails scratching gently over his shirt, soothing and slow.

[comic-art-showcase]

Batman by Alvaro Martínez Bueno

[whumpy-wyrms]

The Last Lab Rat #12: Fever Dream

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content: lab whump, captivity, fever, drugging, comfort, electrocution, parent death mention, winged test subject whumpee, scientist carewhumper

— 

Dew was getting closer and closer to escape, and he couldn’t be more terrified.

The past week, he had been planning a real escape with his little snake friend. He and Sasha had been crawling through the vents every night, mentally mapping out every twist and turn, every exit and entrance, every dead end. It was hard without a flashlight, but they would make do. The two of them decided to take it slow; no use rushing something and risk being caught, having the entire plan ruined.

They weren’t in a hurry. They knew Dew’s escape plan had to be absolutely flawless, with no possible way of getting caught. So even if it took weeks, they would take it slow.

But after everything, lying to the scientist was taking a toll. Dew had accidentally constructed an intricate web of lies he had to constantly keep track of. If Anton confronted him on just one hole in his stories, Dew would be done for. He’d crumble, too scared for what would happen if he kept lying.

So Dew tried to avoid his captor growing suspicious at all costs with the only way he knew how. Dew hated talking to Anton like a friend, having friendly conversations with the scientist after experiments, talking about his life, laughing, smiling. But gaining Anton’s trust was a priority. Besides, if Dew did get caught in this web of lies, maybe his captor would go easy on him because of this.

It was about a week after he met Sasha, and Dew found himself with a terrible headache, right after waking up. The lights were off, so it must’ve been early in the morning. He rolled over and held his head in his hands, feeling the heat radiating off of him. His stomach felt like shit too. No. Was he getting sick? He supposed that made sense, considering how long he’d been here. But this certainly wouldn’t help things.

Dew laid there for hours, unable to fall back to sleep. Eventually, the lights clicked on, making him wince and squeeze his eyes shut. A little bit after that, he heard the sound of footsteps walking up to his room.

“...Dewey? Are you okay?” Anton asked, walking into Dew’s room and putting the tray of food on his nightstand. The truth was, Dew looked like absolute shit. He was racked with sniffles and coughs, with piles of used tissues littered around him. Oh. Anton’s lab rat must be coming down with something.

Dew only mumbled an incomprehensible response, curling into himself and moving deeper under the warm blankets, as if searching for a false sense of security. Anton walked closer, now noticing that Dew’s wings were trembling.

“Hey, Dewey? What’s wrong?” Anton’s voice came out soft, quiet, as if he didn’t want to scare the little guy more than he already was. “Are you sick?”

“What does it look like?” Dew hissed, but his voice came out groggy and strained. He sounded absolutely miserable. He looked miserable. “I’m sick, Anton, obviously. I probably have a fever or something.” The scientist tilted his head and reached out his arm to Dew’s forehead, trying to feel his temperature.

“Don’t touch me.” Dew flinched back and swatted Anton’s hand away with his wing. He turned his body to the other side and buried his face into his pillow. “Just leave me–” Alone. Dew shuddered. He didn’t want that either. His voice softened. “I mean… Can you um- j-just get me some water? Please? The stuff in the bathroom sink is gross.”

Anton stepped back, giving Dew space. “Uh, Sure.” When the scientist left, Dew had a sudden spurt of coughs and sneezes. He groaned into his pillow, wishing he didn’t feel like this.

“Here you go, Dewey.” Anton smiled and handed him the water.

“My name’s not Dewey,” Dew complained into his pillow.

Anton smirked. “What was that, Dewey? Your voice is all muffled.”

Dew immediately sat up and shot Anton a glare, then groaned in pain and held a hand to his head. Too fast. He sat up too fast and now the room was spinning and his headache was worse.

“Gimme the water,” Dew said, sniffling.

“Pfft, rude.” But Anton handed it to him anyway.

Dew flopped back down onto the bed when he was done, and rolled over. “My head hurts,” Dew said weakly. “Can you um, dim the lights a little more? It’s hurting my eyes.”

“Oh. Okay.” Anton turned the lights down until he saw Dew visibly relax.

“Thanks,” Dew said.

“Don’t mention it. But, Dewey. You can’t just stay in bed all day.”

Dew turned to look at him incredulously. “I… I have a fever I think. I’m sick. A-Anton, I can’t- I don’t feel good.”

“Well, yeah, but I can just–”

Dew squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. He didn’t want to deal with Anton’s antics right now, whatever that man was planning. Dew took a deep breath and opened his eyes, looking away. His eyes widened at something new. “...Wait, what is that?” He asked, surprised. He sat up and pointed to a bag that he noticed was sitting on the floor next to the wall.

“Oh,” Anton said as he picked it up. “It’s the night-light you asked for.”

Dew looked at him with a puzzled expression. “...Really?”

“Yeah, you wanted one, remember? I don’t understand all your silly fears, but whatever.” Anton tossed a strange object to Dew, and he scrambled to catch it.

The night-light in question was a little, round, white cartoonish ghost, made out of plastic with small LED lights in the middle. There were two little black dots for eyes and a small smile printed on its face. Dew turned the light on, and quickly squeezed his eyes shut at how bright it was. He turned it off, and rotated it around in his hands. It was cute, a bit silly, sure. But it was bright enough to light up the vents. It was perfect.

“Um, thanks,” Dew said. “I like it.”

“Cool. Oh! I got something else for you.”

“You did?”

“Yeah.” Anton smiled and pulled something out of the bag. Dew looked up, right as a blur of something fluffy and white was being thrown at him. He scrambled to catch it and get a look at whatever it was. Anton snickered, standing awkwardly next to his bed. “I saw it at the store and immediately thought of you.”

Dew looked down, and in his arms was a large, very fluffy and soft… chicken plushie? “What…”

“You both have wings! You’re like a giant chicken.”

“I’m not a chicken!” Dew said angrily, clutching his plushie in his arms anyway. He had to admit, it was really soft. He had a lot of plushies back home, and he missed snuggling with them. “What is this, um, for anyway?”

“I just thought you needed a friend. I suppose it gets lonely down here without me.”

“...Yeah,” Dew said quietly. “It does.”

Anton figited and walked closer, voice turning serious. “...Dew, how are you feeling?”

“Not good. I just wanna rest. …Please.”

“Hmm,” Anton hummed. Dew broke out in a burst of coughs. “I have an idea.”

“W-what kind of idea?” Dew asked miserably. “Can I just have some headache medicine or something?”

“Yeah yeah, hold on.” Anton waved him off while fishing something out of his pocket, seemingly not paying attention to what Dew was saying at all. The scientist pulled out a tape recorder, and clicked it on. “Alright,” Anton said. “The date is Saturday, September 21, 7:32am. Test subject seems to be sick with a fever. I’ll do some tests, and then–”

“Tests?” Dew asked miserably.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t feel good, Anton. Ca-can we just take a break? For one day?”

“You’ve had a lot of breaks recently, Dew. I wanna have some fun.”

“So do I.” 

Anton shrugged. “The experiments are fun.”

“They are not! They’re– They’re painful and traumatizing!” Dew wrapped his wings around himself and curled deeper into a ball.

“...What’s fun for you then?”

Dew furrowed his brows. Was Anton really asking what Dew liked to do for fun? Why did he care? “Um,” Dew began. “Playing video games, drawing, going outside, flying. Anything that, you know, doesn’t hurt.”

“Hm.” Anton sighed. He looked deep in thought, which never ended well. “There is this one thing I’ve been wanting to try out.”

“...Does it hurt?”

“It shouldn’t,” Anton shrugged. “If you behave.”

“Mmm,” Dew hummed anxiously, considering his lack of options. “O-okay.”

Anton smiled wide and ruffled Dew’s hair, who in turn, tried not to shy away from it. Behaving meant accepting Anton’s kind gestures, right?

“Okay, so I guess you wanna be healed from your fever, huh?”

“What? You can…?”

Anton rolled his eyes. “Of course I can.” He pulled out a flask of glowing fluid from behind his back, and held it out to him. “Drink this. You should go back to normal. In fact, you’ll probably even feel better than you did before.”

Dew eyed the flask warrily. It was no different from the other strange fluids the scientist makes him drink, but this gave Dew a weird feeling. It was a dark purple, with rivers of red and colorful specks flowing through it. It looked thick, with bubbles popping and floating upwards. Just looking at it made Dew more nauseous, the opposite effect it was supposed to have, Dew thought.

But he reached out to grab it anyway, like Anton said. But as he was about to grab the flask, Anton pulled it out of reach.

“Dew, your hands are shaking. I don’t want you to spill it.”

Dew glared at him. “What even is it anyway?”

“Medecine.” Not helpful. “I can’t let any spill and go to waste. This stuff is hard to make.”

The “medicine” became more and more unappealing the longer Dew looked at it. But whatever, he’d rather just get this whole thing over with. “Fine.”

Anton grabbed Dew’s chin gently, and brought the flask towards his mouth. “Open.”

Dew opened his mouth and allowed Anton to bring the flask to his lips. Dew drank it; downed it all in one go, despite the disgusting taste. Anton let go of his chin and blacked away, now looking bored.

Dew felt… wrong. The second he was done drinking it, he was hit with a wave of dizziness, and leaned back against the wall for support. His eyelids were growing heavy, and it was hard to stay upright.

“What’s… happening?” Dew asked worriedly, voice breaking.

“Shh,” Anton cooed. “Just relax. When you wake up, you’ll be back to normal.”

Dew blinked heavily and tried sitting up, but Anton firmly pushed him back down. “What–”

“Go to sleep, Dew.”

Dew shook his head lightly, trying to stay awake. But once his head hit the soft pillow, and he was wrapped up in cozy blankets, his eyes finally fluttered shut. Everything went black, and Dew drifted off into a short, peaceful sleep.

Anton stepped back and looked around the room. “Holy shit this place is a mess.”

. . .

Dew woke up to see Anton leaning over him, with his usual smirk on his face. Dew’s face scrunched up in fear and he turned his head away. He wanted nothing more than to disappear into this warm bed forever.

“How’re you feeling?” Anton asked.

Dew glared at him, but after thinking about it, Dew realized he felt better.

“Woah,” he breathed. “I feel… great.” Great as in, Dew wasn’t tired anymore. He didn’t feel sleep deprived at all, quite the opposite really. Of course, he wasn’t sick anymore either. His headache was gone and his temperature was normal. Besides the obvious, stagnant feeling of fear and dread that came with being kept captive, Dew felt okay.

“Told you.” Anton teased.

“Thanks for… helping me. Really. I felt like complete shit earlier.”

“Yeah yeah,” Anton waved him off as if it didn’t matter. “I need to keep you healthy, remember? And it’s no fun when you’re… down in the dumps.” Anton trailed off. “Just eat your food.”

Dew looked at the tray. Waffles again, an apple, and a banana. As he ate, the scientist watched him.

“So…” Dew thought about what Anton said earlier, giving the empty tray to him when he was done. “What are we gonna do now?”

“Follow me.”

They headed out of the lab and up the stairs, Dew following closely behind. The scientist said nothing as they walked, allowing tension to rise in the air.

Dew also remained silent, but his mind wandered. Whatever Anton wanted to do involved going outside again, which Dew was always thankful for. Although this time, his captor hadn’t put any restraints on his wings yet, like he always did when they went outside to keep him from flying away.

Dew looked at the scientist incredulously. What was going on? Did he forget? Was this all some test to see if Dew wouldn’t try to fly away and escape? Why?

Dew kept walking by Anton’s side, too afraid to question anything. Maybe Anton just forgot. That’d be unlikely, but still possible.

Once they entered the cabin and Dew got sight out of the window, his wings started flapping lightly, excitedly, apprehensively. He wanted to fly– he needed to fly. His captor was taunting him with this. He had to be.

“A-Anton?” Dew squeaked. He didn’t want to point out the obvious, but he’d rather Anton do something about it now, rather than find out when Dew inevitably tried to escape while out there. Because Dew already knew that he couldn’t escape with Anton around, not without being so easily mind-controlled. “You um, you for-forgot something–” He hated himself for this, but Dew already had an escape plan. This could destroy it.

“I didn’t forget anything, Dew,” Anton said smoothly. “Come on, let’s go outside.”

Dew stood, glued to his spot. “I’m not stupid, Anton,” He hissed. “The second I go outside, I-I won’t be able to resist flying away, you know this! I don’t want you to hurt me for trying to escape again! I don’t want to be mind-controlled or poked with a needle o-or never be allowed outside again, or worse, just because of a stupid mistake!” I don’t want this to interfere with the plan I already have.

“Woah, jeeze,” Anton laughed. “Relax. This isn’t a trick—”

“That’s what you always say!”

“Dew,” Anton grabbed his shoulders, making eye contact. “I can assure you, this will be fun for you. As long as you behave. You can do that right?”

“Y-yeah, I can.” But he really didn’t want to.

“I know you can.” Dew flinched when Anton patted him on the head, and then they walked outside.

When they hit the fresh, cool autumn air, Dew’s wings stretched out to feel the wind in his feathers. He wanted nothing more than to jump in the air and disappear into the trees, but he had to control himself. His wings fluttered lightly in the air, basking in the sun and savoring this new sensation of a fake freedom.

This was okay. As long as Dew focused on his sensations now, he could deal with being stuck to the ground. He could gain Anton’s trust, he could stick to the plan.

Dew followed Anton a few steps away from the front door, and then off of the porch and into the grass.

“Fly.”

The word hit his ears like a truck. It was as if the entire world stopped, and all Dew could hear was his rapidly beating heart.

“W-what?”

Anton laughed, stepping away from his test subject. “You heard me, Dewey. Fly!”

“You said this– this wasn’t a trick.”

“Not a trick,” Anton snickered. “I can assure you.”

The scientist motioned with his arms, a big grin on his face. “Go ahead, fly.”

Dew glared at him, but he didn’t waste a second. He flew. He jumped up into the air and flapped his wings rapidly, never taking his eyes off Anton and the sickeningly sweet smile on his face. Dew blinked back tears, knowing freedom was right there, in his grasp. The scientist was allowing him to fly outside unrestrained, but still, Anton would never let him go. Dew didn’t know what his game was, but he knew it wouldn’t end well for him. He knew he would lose.

Dew swallowed thickly, flying just a bit higher, expecting to be shot down by tranquilizer darts or told to stop like last time— those words flowing into his brain and controlling his movements as if he was nothing but a puppet. His heart sped up when that didn’t happen, and he flew higher. His captor wasn’t doing anything besides standing there and watching him, his figure getting smaller and smaller the higher Dew went.

Dew couldn’t hold himself back anymore. He couldn’t resist freedom being closer than it had ever been before. His wings flapped into the air with a hope that was almost too much to bear. Was he really doing this? Was this it? He reached the top of the trees, and was about to fly above the forest and into the clouds when he suddenly felt a sharp pain all over his body.

A faint “It worked!” could be heard from the ground, but that hardly mattered.

Dew screamed, his voice a shattering shriek. He grabbed at his neck– his arms– his head– but the feeling of every fiber in his body being on fire wouldn’t go away. His eyes widened as he felt himself falling, trying and failing to flap his wings and catch himself. His wings had stopped working, going limp in the air while he cried. He couldn’t fly. He flailed his arms as he plummeted to the ground, down and down and down.

Dew landed roughly on a large tree branch, getting the wind knocked out of him and scraping his arms while trying to hang on. His body stinged, splinters digging into his hands and panic rising in his gut. Dew’s grip loosened and he tumbled to the ground, with no way to soften the landing.

He laid there for a few moments, his head pounding with a terrible ringing in his ears. His wings twitched as his muscles gained control over them and his body again. Dew’s hands curled into the dirt and he scrunched up in a ball, not caring that his hair was getting tangled in the autumn leaves. He didn’t move from the spot.

“Shit.” Dew heard the scientist curse as he ran towards him. Lying there would do nothing, Dew realized. He felt his blood boil, this time in anger as he turned his head to face him.

“Wh-what did you think was gonna happen?” Dew spat, still struggling on the ground, trying to sit up.

“I didn’t think you would try flying away, since I specifically told you not to,” Anton sneered.

Dew felt venom rise in his throat. “How could I resist? You told me to fly! Why the fuck wouldn’t I try to leave?!”

“Because you should have known I’m smarter than just letting you go like that. And because you should know you’re never leaving.” Anton sighed. “Come here, I’ll help you.”

“No.” Dew blinked back tears. His arm that he landed on hurt, bad. He needed help. But fuck, he was angry. Dew huffed in frustration and crawled towards Anton, letting the scientist help him stand. Dew leaned against him as they walked towards the cabin.

“W-what even happened up there?” Dew’s voice wobbled as he spoke. “What did you do to me?”

“Oh,” Anton took out the device he used for mind-controlling him. “If you fly too far away, there’s an invisible barrier that sends a shock through your nervous system to stop you from leaving.” Anton spoke as if that wasn’t completely earth-shattering news to his little lab rat. He set Dew down on the stairs, and took out a first aid kit.

“A-Anton,” Dew began, voice wavering. “Please, p-please tell me there’s a way to turn that off.”

“There is,” Anton replied simply. “But we’ll never need to use it.” Anton started looking over Dew’s wounds. He had a lot of cuts and scrapes from falling through the trees, but nothing that couldn’t be easily patched up. “I just thought it’d be fun for you to fly outside for once, safely, without risking you escaping.”

Dew ignored what the scientist was doing and stared at him, eyes burning with hatred. He could grab the pen from his pocket and stab it into the scientist’s eye and take the device that controlled his body. He could destroy it and fly away before his captor could catch him. He could be free. Right. Now.

Dew shook those thoughts away. It was the worst idea he had ever had, and he knew it would never work. He tried to calm his racing heart, and stop the fire rising in his throat. The scientist was just toying with him. He needed to calm down before he made things worse.

He hissed back a whine as his wounds were tended to. Anton didn’t seem to care about his pain, and held Dew firmly in place.

He looked at the sky, needing a distraction. But the sun was so bright and it hurt his eyes, so he looked away. He caught a glimpse of Sasha through the cabin window, and Dew tilted his head. They were watching him. Of course, Anton had allowed Sasha free reign of his house, probably even the outside too. The two of them stared at each other. Sasha knew what he was thinking, and the snake slowly shook their head “no.” Dew knew what they meant. Don't try escaping. It’s not your time. Stick to the plan.

Despite his friend only trying to help, Dew felt himself deflate, all the hope and fiery spark of adrenaline leaving him. His only option really was to comply for now, despite being so close to freedom. It would be hard; Dew would have to force himself to fly into the cool air while not going too far away. Whatever that meant.

“What now?” Dew asked begrudgingly.

“You and Sasha done with your staring contest?”

“Uh– yeah?”

“Then keep flying out here.” Anton shrugged and sat down on the porch stairs. “It’s what you always wanted to do, isn’t it?”

“W-well yeah, but—”

“I’m not letting you go. This is the closest thing you’ll ever get.”

Dew didn’t waste his time, he jumped into the air. He hovered in front of Anton for a few seconds, before darted away into the trees. Anton smirked and leaned back against the porch railing.

Dew flew over the cabin and landed on the roof. His heart pounded through his skull and he felt like it would explode. He wanted so badly to leave, fly away and never turn back. But he knew what would happen, so he would play Anton’s game. For now.

Dew sat perched up there for a few moments, looking around him. What were the limits? Dew questioned. Despite still being trapped, he wanted to make the most of this new development. How far could he fly without his entire body being electrocuted and cause his wings to momentarily stop working? Dew shuddered even thinking about it.

He wondered what his captor was up to. Dew slowly crawled across the roof and peaked over the edge directly above the scientist. Anton looked up, Dew scurred backwards.

…There always was the possibility of Dew being able to snatch that device away from him so he couldn’t be controlled anymore. He shuddered thinking about it. The chip in his brain that allowed himself to be mind-controlled, now shocked him whenever he went too far away. It was honestly impressive how much Anton could do to him now, just to keep him his.

But Dew knew that trying to escape would be futile now. He had a plan and needed to stick to it. But… Now there was a hole in their plan. Dew couldn’t actually leave. Shit.

He would have to tell Sasha about this new development later, and fit, “stealing the device connected to Dew’s brain chip from Anton,” into their escape plan.

So for now, Dew took advantage of his free time outside. He stood on top of the roof and spread his wings out, cherishing how relaxing and satisfying it felt to finally not have them restrained outdoors. He started flying again, careful to not go too high or far and hurt himself again.

He looked down to see Anton, nothing but a fleck of dust to him at this height. It felt so surreal, like a dream. Dew had dreamed a lot about days of flying freely, finally escaping the clutches of captivity and being kept as a test subject. This felt like those dreams, this felt too good to be true, even if he was still trapped. But it also felt so real.

…Because it was. Anton simply wanted to let Dew have fun for once.

“I’m going for a walk!” Anton called from below.

Dew stared at him, and then slowly made his way to the ground. He stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to say.

“You can come with me, you know.”

Dew looked at Anton, then back at the cabin. “But–”

“The barrier isn't surrounding the house, it's around me. As long as you’re by me, you’ll be fine.”

Oh.

Dew walked up to him. “Same, uh, distance?” He asked.

Anton nodded. “Same distance.”

With that, Dew darted up into the trees, out of his captor’s sight. Anton walked the same trail they always had, but instead of walking, Dew was hopping from tree to tree, taking the high ground. It was oddly satisfying watching the scientist from above, like he was nothing but a bug that could be easily stomped on.

As Anton kept walking, Dew kept following from above, sometimes gliding in a circle above the scientist, like a crow surrounding a decaying carcass. Anton paid him no mind, just kept walking at a leisurely pace, letting Dew explore the woods around him.

Then Dew sat, perched on a tree branch, when a squirrel scurried up to him. He went ridgid, expecting it to run away. But it sat there with him on that tree branch, doing its own thing. Dew stared, confused, but content. He and the squirrel were both just… existing. At the same time, in the same space, doing the same thing, but in far different circumstances neither of them could try to comprehend from each other. And that was okay. Dew liked existing with this little squirrel.

Dew sat there for a while, forgetting that Anton was still walking. After a few minutes, Dew realized that he’d get shocked again if he didn’t keep following along Anton. But he didn’t want to leave his new friend. He’d never see them ever again after this.

“A-Anton,” Dew said quietly, not wanting to spook away the squirrel that had curled up against his leg. The scientist was far up ahead of him, down the trail, probably assuming Dew would be keeping up. There was no way for Anton to hear what Dew was saying. He sighed, and called out a little louder this time. “Anton!”

That got his attention. Anton turned, looking around in confusion on where Dew’s voice was coming from, until he spotted him very high up in a tree.

“What?” Anton asked.

Dew gestured to the squirrel. “I, I wanna sit here for a little bit. With, uh, with the squirrel.”

Anton stared. “You do that then!” He called.

“...Thanks!”

Dew sat up there for a long time, unable to tell if it was minutes or hours. But by the sun setting and turning the sky into bright hues of pink and orange, Dew realized that Anton had let him spend all day out there. He realized he didn’t remember the last time he watched the sunset with anyone. And now here he was, sitting on a tree branch looking over the forest, with his squirrel friend still by his side.

But he was getting hungry. Obviously, it must be around 6pm now. The days had been getting shorter as the weather got colder, but it wasn’t like that mattered in the lab.

Dew said goodbye to the squirrel once it became too dark to see it. He landed softly on the ground, and found Anton sitting in some grass under the tree.

Dew choked back a laugh. “What are those?” He asked.

“Night vision goggles?” Anton crossed his arms. “I don’t want to lose sight of you out here.”

“They look so stupid.” Dew snickered.

“Shut up,” Anton said. 

The two of them walked back towards the cabin, and Dew realized how cold it had gotten outside. Obviously, it was already autumn. Dew shivered as he walked, socks getting wet from the dewy grass.

He walked inside without a fuss, wanting to warm up. As Anton kicked his shoes off, Dew took a look around his cabin, having never actually been inside this place much before.

And before Anton could escort him to the lab, Dew spoke up. “Where’s Sasha?”

“In their room.”

“Where’s that?”

Anton pointed to a door, “Over there.”

Dew nodded awkwardly and shuffled his way towards it.

“Woah, hey!” Anton stopped him from moving. “Why are you shivering?”

“...I’m cold?”

Anton rolled his eyes and stepped around the corner. He came back with a blanket and draped it around Dew’s shoulders. “You should’ve told me you were cold. I don’t want you getting sick again.”

“Oh. Okay. Can I go see Sasha?”

“I don’t see why not.”

The two of them spent the rest of their free day hanging out with Sasha in their enclosure. Anton had built a large enclosure, almost resembling a mini rainforest, inside one of the rooms in his cabin. It was a perfect habitat for his snake friend; their own little world to themselves. The scientist still gave Sasha free reign of the house, it was their home too, after all.

The three of them sat in a circle and talked for a bit. After a while, they sat in comfortable silence. It was peaceful, somehow. Dew felt safe.

. . .

It was getting late, and it was hard to believe that Dew had spent the entire day above the lab, without attempting any real escapes. It made Dew feel incredibly guilty, but he knew he had to wait it out. He had to gain Anton’s trust, and he had to wait for his plan.

Eventually, Anton took Dew back down the stairs. He said goodnight to Sasha, and walked down willingly. It was hard. Dew distracted himself by thinking of what’d it be like finally escaping this place, flying freely outside for real.

Soon, he thought. He’d get out of this place soon.

The lab was dark when they opened the door. As they were walking to Dew’s room, Anton spoke up.

“So, today was… fun. I suppose. I’m proud of you for not running.”

Dew’s heart sped up. “Um, y-yeah. Thanks.”

“I wouldn’t mind having one day of the week as a free day. As long as you keep behaving, I don’t see why not. I prefer to just always work on my experiments, but your needs need to be met as well, since you’ll be here forever. How does every Saturday sound?”

“G-good. Yeah. That sounds good.”

“Great.” Anton smiled. They arrived at Dew's room, and Anton opened the door for his test subject. Dew walked inside timidly, eyes downcast. He really was getting used to this routine.

“Goodnight, Dew.”

“...Night.” The lights flickered off and Anton was gone. Faint sounds of the scientist's footsteps could be heard walking through the lab and out the exit.

Dew sighed and laid down in bed. It was so quiet. Dew missed the sounds of the birds chirping, of leaves rustling in the wind. Dew missed existing in the same space with others in a way that felt safe. Dew missed flying outside. Holy shit, that was the best thing that had ever happened to him, despite falling to the ground and getting hurt.

It was surreal, the whole day. It would almost feel like a dream. His captor had not only agreed to give him one day a week free for him to do whatever he wanted, free from experimentation and pain, but allowed him to fly outside. Sure, there was now the threat of… being electrocuted every time Dew left the area around Anton’s cabin. That was bad. But it was progress. Flying outside was something Dew had always wanted to do since he got his wings, and he did it, just like that!

The only thing that would make it better was to fly freely. He’d get there, of course, once he escapes.

Speaking of escape, Dew sat up in bed when he heard the familiar rustle of the vents above his head, signifying Sasha was there. They were a better escape artist than he was, having already found a way down here from up there. Dew supposed that made sense; snakes were escape artists in nature.

“Hey!” Sasha said, opening the latch with their tail.

“Hi,” Dew said. He grabbed his new night-light and held it up to them. “Look what Anton got me. It’s a little ghost light.”

“That’s cool. What’s a ghost?”

“I guess you wouldn’t know, huh? Okay… Ghosts are spirits. Like, like the soul of a dead person, they don’t exist in the physical plane. Nobody can see or hear them, but they can haunt people. And they’re not real– obviously. I used to believe in ghosts and then… then my parents died. And uh, if ghosts were real, my parents would have probably found a way to contact me. But they’re gone. But that doesn’t matter!”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. Let’s just hope I can get outta here before Halloween. This little ghost would be perfect for that.”

“You’ll get out in no time, Dew.”

“Yeah.” Dew turned the light on, surprising them both with the brightness of it. “And look! It’s really bright so it’ll be perfect for mapping things out up there. You might have a good sense of direction, but I don’t.”

“Good idea!”

“Let’s go, it’s kinda chilly in here.”

Dew and his escape artist friend hopped up into the vents, using his night-light to make a windy and swirly map that was somewhat beginning to make sense. Their goal was to find the quickest possible route to the surface and map out a real exit. The steps after that, well… Dew just hoped he could finally get out of this torment, mostly unscathed.

Not to mention, they now had to find a way to get that device away from Anton. Escaping the cabin is useless when Dew can’t even leave without being shocked.

But they were sure they could do it, if they kept working together. Exploring the vents had been fun with Sasha. Sometimes Dew would bring his blanket up there and they would use his night-light to tell stories. Dew was thankful to finally have someone he could trust here, to finally have a friend he could talk to.

And that filled him with more hope, knowing that he’d finally be out of here soon. He would finally talk to his friends again, and spend time with his pets. He would finally sleep in his own bed and wear his own clothes. He would do whatever he wanted. He would fly, truly free.

Dew was getting closer and closer to escape, and he couldn’t be more excited.

—

This is Dew’s ghost light btw

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[embracingwild]

grief is just like... you're doing a bit better, finding happy moments that fill you with light even if they only last a minute or two... and then you want to tell your person about those moments.... and you're right back where you started. again and again.

[stiffyck]

Hey stiff I feel like it’s been too long since ppl brainrotted about tcd scar.. he is so messed up and Perfectly Fine. So normal. He does not think about the horrors he went through as a kid all by himself nope definitely not. Definetly doesn’t get painfully reminded about the enormous gap of his life full of nothing but loneliness and death, where everyone else around him talks about families and childhood and friends and memories and happiness….. yikes.

SJVKEKGMS OUGH YEA YES DIVISKGKW

Scar hearing people talk about their families and all the stuff they did when they were kids and he's just. He never had that.

He hear people talk about childhood friends and playing outside and building their first builds while Scar thinks of little him, holding his badly stitched together cat pushie close to his chest while hiding in a corner with his gun, trying not to cry as the zombies outside scream and bang on the barraged doors and windows.

Scar hears others talking about their birthday parties and how much fun they had, what beautiful cakes they had and how their friends came over for parties and he remembers him sitting on a broken bed, softly singing happy birthday to his plushie.

He doesn't remember his own birthday, but it's the least he can do. Jellie deserves something nice..

Scar hears the others talking about their families and he can't help but remember his own parents chasing him down, trying to catch him just so they can rip him apart.

Uh. I should sleep it's 2 am but yea anon I agree. Tcd scar...

[thedeadthree]

thinking thoughts thinking thoughts thinking thoughts th—

what if irulanne was from the same clan as m*erril but raised a city elf since she was found in that crypt

what if she’s from the al*erion on her moms side and a l*avellan on her dads

what if lhysas father (an assassin just like his daughter lhysaa <33) had allies in his days as an assassin a pariah of his family

what if he wasn’t the only one that was betrayed when a thing went topsy turvy (will be getting to how that went down eventually !!!!!)

what if lhysas father moved on from lúthien the mother of the inky and her brother (she sort of went *poof* for reasons of her own that golly i need to write all of this down jdnxgcg i mean tungle post is a good place to start dnbxgxg)

what if unbeknownst to irulanne her and lhys and feanorian are half sibs what if her mother gave birth to iru and hid her in the crypt what if they found her and thought her to not have magic at first so she was raised by the elder of the alienage. (her mother was likely to have passed on as well poor iru 🥀🥲)

what if they kept an eye anyway knowing the bloodline she hailed from (lonans line lhysa and feanorians line has a STORY if there ever was one i will yell about it soon prommy !!!!!) and low and behold none too long later her magic manifested what if they waited a while more until she built her network of little creatures she reanimated that relayed her things and gaggle of friends what if she had a kingdom of her own and she refused

what if she was thrown under a bloody ritual to wipe her memories so that all she knew was the sisters a sort of sect of necromancers within the mourners that had their own ideas and machinations and saw her as their heir of sorts??

what if it was like she was to be some sort of lich queen…thing(?) ruling the living and the dead from the necropolis and that it went topsy turvy (to irulannes benefit ubeknownst to her at the time!!) when the thing happened and that whole her having a mage heir to rule was merely a side thing that if it happened cool but the main goal was the lich queen thing.

what if feanorian was in the area for a reason or another (maybe i can think of that with emms episode !!) he’s looking for the rook on behalf of lhysa who has her ex to thwart/save and a demigod daughter to raise etc etc (things i am planning to yell about later oo there’s so much to yell about with lhysa but this is a iru lore essay <3)

what if the prodigy to gifted kid burnout between lucanne (heir to bloodline etc etc luca and child of nothing destined to inherit everything irulanne) made me insane <3

[kuruna]

Man.... I dunno if I'll use "Xan and AZ's mom died when they were young" in my personal lore for them but it would be another tick to add to the Xanthos Self Loathing counter . Because he loves to blame himself for things that really aren't his fault 😭💔

[poststealer]

[yardsards]

so what age do you think titans in toh reach maturity at?

because like

on one hand king was in his egg for centuries. and comparing his current size and growth rate to his dad's body, it's gonna take him hundreds if not thousands of years to reach anything near that size.

but also certain creatures (like certain types of bug) can be in their eggs for a really long time proportional to their lifespan, or even have gestational times be altered by environmental factors. and some creatures (like lobsters) continue to grow bigger for the rest of their lives after reaching maturity.

also, many animals are ready to leave their parents before fully reaching maturity, and king seems to have reached some milestones before human kids of the same age would

this is all to say... king is definitely gonna outlive eda by a longshot and it's gonna be extremely tragic when it happens, but i'm thinking about if there will also be the extra layer of tragedy of him still being a child by his specie's standards when it happens

[of-mutton-and-wool]

Yapping about my interpretations of lamb and goat

So tldr; in MY interpretation of the lamb and goats relationship, goat is basically lamb’s sibling- expect their from another universe.

(Feel free to have your own interpretations-)

So for context, my lamb is a girl failure called Eve (she/it). Blah blah last sheep in the lands of the old faith. She was so desperate to keep living she accepted the deal from Narinder reluctantly. She probably leads her cult with manipulation and the promise of good food and warm beds!!! She is sorta afraid of herself and the road she is going down, but ultimately, she wants to survive and be happy. The type of person who prepares heavily each cursade.

And in a sense i want to characterize goat as a foil for Eve.

For the time being I’m calling it Cain (it/he). Cain is a lot more confident and eager for a challenge! It often does stuff on the fly, such as running into battle, for it is secure in its own abilities. It runs its cult with intimidation and the promise of safety. Though like Eve, Cain is afraid- of the future, of itself, of what it can’t control- so it always must go go go. Cain wants revenge. It wants those who hurt it to suffer the same way it did

These two butt heads often, but at the same days, are perfectly in sync.

Beyond this is just yapping about my lamb’s backstory and the alternative universe this goat comes from

Eve and Cain knew each other from when they were little. When Eve was just a lamb, her mother (Esther) begged to be allowed to hide in a village unaffiliated with the old faith. Most of the villagers did not want the trouble, but Cain’s father and traveling merchant, Abraham, refused to just leave Esther and her baby out to die.

So Esther and Abraham made a deal (not really? It wasn’t verbalized). Abraham would take Esther with him and hide her when her can, and Esther would help Abraham make the fleeces he sells + help care for Cain- as It’s mother died in childbirth.

Abraham is a very sweet man!! Basically treats Eve like his own daughter! Slowly over the next decade or so Esther and Abraham kinda fall in love and kinda become a thing! Life is as good as it can be, and the family makes plans to leave the lands of the old faith for good when they have the money.

Cain and Eve aren’t to far apart in age. Cain is older by about a year or two. The two often went on small adventures (much to their parents dismay) under the cover of night and had pretend sword fights with sticks! They dreamed of being able to run around freely!!!

But uh, about the year the lamb turned eighteen the old faith finally catches up to them. In the resulting confrontation, let’s just say Eve escaped and survived and the rest of her family didn’t. Eve would live on the run for the next three years, with the guilt of being the only survivor.

Part of her made the pact with narinder in hopes he may have the capabilities to bring them back. But alas, the red crown can only revive those devoted to it.

Meanwhile in an alternative timeline, goats are the ones being hunted and this whole thing happens in reverse. Also!!! In this universe, shamura is the god of death (hence why the crown is purple but not shamura usual crown) and locked away.

So yeah multiverse BS is happening

But hey Eve and Cain get to see each other again.

[rocaillefox]

ok ik that hades & persephone are also kdj's parents in a sense but lee sookyung is also like. his mom. who saved him from going to prison for killing his abusive father. lets not erase that very, Very vital part of his personality, family heritage, etc- its so deeply ingrained into orv that the story would not exist without that event happening. lee sookyung writing the book is both following the themes of orv, and setting the pattern for it (belief -> reality). she is so inherent to who kdj is as a person that replacing her with hades and persephone in aus feels. wrong. his story is not worse for the tragedy of his childhood; and changing things is inherent to aus, but it must be done with intent. if the feelings of the original are not replicated thats fine- but then is it really still an au? its just simply not who he is. what we have experienced shapes us. and with kdj, quite literally this trauma is so ingrained in him that when hes lost everything else, the memory of that time when he was a kid pushed to the limit by fear and trauma is so closely held its all he remembers. ironic, considering he spends most of orv not remembering it- but still it informs him, though. in his staunch denial, he runs from his mother and hates her and loves her, too, in a way- all informed by what he cant let himself believe consciously.

like- hades and persephone can take a parental role like canon i guess. but theres other ways to portray that that more accurately reflect the emotions of what was happening, and kdj's own reluctance towards adopting them as parents. in truth, persephone and lee sookyung have a lot in common, and the choice for hades to be his father is very interesting from a writing perspective, given the history of the hades and persephone myth- given it involved hades abducting persephone, but not here. especially given hades dies in the end. in many ways, persephone and lee sookyung are foils; they come from a similar place and their stories end similarly. persephone is almost a rewrite of what lee sookyung's life could have been like, a rewrite that gets her to the same present time. lets not forget the leadership of the underworld- shared by hades And persephone- traps them there too. lets not forget her protection of kdj.

all this to say, fics that have hades and persephone as kdj's sole parents feel So weird to me. his initial choice to accept them in the novel is reluctant- at the very least, a fraught older adoption scenario that recognizes the pain of adoption is more accurate than hades and persephone as his bio parents.

[evtoine]

oh.... taash's "it's a good hurt. mostly" when i was literally just saying this yesterday about playing their companion quest 😭😭😭

[comic-art-showcase]

that fateful night in Crime Alley by Chris Samnee

Batober prompt: Sacrifice

[whumpy-wyrms]

The Last Lab Rat #10: Alone - part 2

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content: lab whump, captivity, failed escape attempt, parent death mention, starvation, needle mention, animal death (mouse), minor character death, grief and angst, alcohol mention, unhealthy coping mechanisms, emotional whump, noncon touch (nonsexual), mind control, comfort at the end?, winged test subject whumpee, creepy scientist carewhumper

hey i know it sounds bad BUT at least Dew gets to eat spaghetti

—

Anton didn’t know what he was thinking. One moment, he was happily walking up the stairs to introduce his mouse friend to his test subject. And the next, he was wallowing in his own misery outside, deep in the dark untouched woods, rain pounding down on his head, clothes getting drenched in mud. Fitting, he thought. He wondered why it always stormed during funerals.

Except Anton didn’t have a black umbrella, or shoulders to cry on and share the pain with. He was alone. It was him, and his strange, glowing green concoction he was drinking out of a flask he found under his floorboards. He didn’t know what it did– it was probably an old experiment from decades ago– and he didn’t know if it would kill him. He just wanted something to ease the pain. Something to make him forget.

And it made him forget all right, but about all the wrong things. As Anton lay sprawled out in the wet grass, drenched in rain, mud and tears, he suddenly remembered that he had somebody locked in his basement. Somebody else he was supposed to take care of and look after. Somebody else that depended on him to survive.

“Shit!” Anton cried. What was he thinking? Leaving Dew alone all day? What time was it? It was dark out, sooner than usual in the autumn month. Anton staggered to his feet, and took another swig of the mystery concoction. He sighed, carded a hand through his messy hair and took one last look at the makeshift grave.

“Goodbye,” he whispered, and started running back to his lab, hearing the crunch of the dead leaves under his feet.

. . .

The door flung open and Anton staggered inside, leaning on the walls and clutching something in his hand. Dew stood, frozen in place as he stared at his captor. He felt like a literal deer caught in headlights, too scared to move or think. He got caught. He got caught. Dew was out of his room, he wasn’t supposed to be here, he was going to get hurt again.

Anton turned his gaze towards his test subject and let out a pained wince as he started to walk towards him. Dew was still hungry. He knew he had no chance of escaping now that Anton was back. There was nothing to do but wait, and hope the scientist would go easy on him this time.

“Dew?” Anton called after him, voice sounding… off. He was holding a clear laboratory flask filled with bright green liquid. It looked half full, and there was some spilled on Anton’s lab coat. Dew thought it was probably another experiment he was planning to test out on him. But none of that mattered now. Anton was back.

Dew fell to his knees in despair, the crowbar falling to the floor next to him. All of those empty threats from earlier were long forgotten and replaced with unfathomable fear. Silent tears fell from his eyes as he sat there, miserable and afraid. He knew it was a bad idea to leave his room, to attempt another futile escape. What was Anton going to do to him now? Take full control of his mind permanently? Erase his memories?

Anton walked closer. “Dewey, I…” He said quietly, voice trailing off. Dew watched as Anton came to a hesitant stop. Dew squeezed his eyes shut, breathing heavily as his captor stood in the middle of the lab. His mind raced with all of the worst possibilities as he felt the seconds tick by and the feeling of being watched only grew. It was so suffocatingly quiet that Dew wandered if he’d imagined Anton entering, if the last few minutes were even real. Finally, Anton said in a small voice, “I’m back.”

Dew opened his eyes, already wet with tears. “Anton?” he squeaked. The scientist was acting so weird. Dew didn’t know what to do. “I… I’m sorry I-I left my room— p-please don’t hurt me,” he whimpered. “I-I’ll be good. I’ll–”

“No,” Anton choked out. “Dew, I…” The scientist walked forward until he was looming over his test subject. Dew let his tears fall freely, shoulders shaking as he silently sobbed and awaited what horrible punishment Anton would inflict on him. “Look at me,” Anton said, gently grabbing his chin and tilting his head upwards.

“Please, Anton,” Dew weeped. “Please don’t hurt me. I’m so hungry.”

“I… I know,” Anton said softly. “I’m um, I’m sorry… okay?”

Dew’s breath hitched, “What?”

“You’re my test subject… I’m supposed to take care of you.” Anton’s voice uncharacteristically wobbled as he talked, and Dew noticed how strange his expression looked… And his eyes. Something was wrong. Something was very fucking wrong. “I’m all you have, you depend on me and I just…”

“Are you… what’s that in your hand?”

“What? Oh. It’s–” Anton held up his strange flask of green liquid. “It’s this- uh– I dunno what it is. I found under the… the floorboards earlier when… It doesn’t matter. I th… thought it would uh… ease the pain I guess.”

“...Pain?”

“You must be hungry, right?” Anton asked suddenly as he let go of Dew’s face and turned on his heel towards the kitchen. Dew shakily nodded his head, and Anton took his hand and pulled him to his feet. Dew’s mind raced as Anton led him to the kitchen area. What the actual fuck was happening?

“Are the lights too bright?” Anton asked.

“Uhm, yeah, a little.” Dew sniffled, trying to calm himself down and stop crying. Anton dimmed the lights throughout the lab so they weren’t too bright, but not dark either. Dew would’ve thanked him if he weren’t terrified for his life.

Once they got to the kitchen, Anton sat Dew down on the couch— he didn’t have a normal table and chairs there, for some reason— and rummaged through the fridge. Dew’s thoughts raced as he sat there, fear making him unable to move, and he didn’t trust his voice not to break out into sobs if he talked. So he didn’t.

Anton left him alone– abandoned him all day with no food or anything, and now he was back acting so incredibly weirder than usual. Dew had escaped his room. He attempted another escape and was caught, why didn’t Anton seem to care now? Was he too distracted to realize? Distracted by what?

Dew held his head in his hands, exhausted and terrified. At least he’d finally be able to eat now. He looked up at Anton, who was starting to make spaghetti and meatballs. Super random. Dew would have preferred maybe a ham sandwich, you know, something that wouldn’t take 25 fucking minutes to cook, but whatever.

Dew noticed Anton’s hands shaking as he tried to pour the noodles into the pot, and was sure he’d accidentally burn himself. Anton’s hands never shook. Dew would know, for all the times his hands carefully and precisely made an injection or incision into his skin.

“I’ll do it,” Dew said, timidly standing up and walking towards the scientist. He didn’t care anymore about being hurt or trying to escape; all he wanted was food. And if Anton wasn’t going to hurt him now, Dew would take advantage of this moment if it meant he could eat sooner.

“No. I’m supposed to take care of you,” Anton said, weakly shoving Dew out of the way.

“Anton, you’re not–”

“Stop talking,” Anton hissed. He took a device from his pocket and turned it on, activating the mind-control.

Dew’s mouth snapped shut, and any attempt to argue was lost. He looked up at Anton sadly, and sat back on the couch. It could be worse, Dew thought. Anton could be hurting him right now, punishing him for escaping, but he wasn’t. And he had no idea why.

So, unable to talk, Dew just watched Anton struggle to cook. He would genuinely like to help, though. It’d give him something to do after doing absolutely nothing all day, and it’d be a good distraction; something familiar, something safe. Something to drown out the terrified worries that wracked his brain, instead of just waiting for something to happen.

It was silent in the lab again, and Dew was strangely content with that now. Anton was back, there was light, but it was dim enough to not burn his eyes, and there was the noise and smell of the noodles and meatballs cooking. He tried to focus on those things— and the fact he wasn’t alone anymore— to calm himself down enough to be prepared for what Anton would do to him for trying to escape again.

Dew noticed as Anton kept nervously checking his watch and taking small glances back at him every few minutes. He was acting so strange, so much more than usual. What had caused any of this? He wished he could just ask.

Anton sighed and leaned against the counter, sliding down to sit on the floor. He took another long sip from that flask and hugged his knees to his chest. His eyes were puffy. If Dew didn’t know any better, it looked like Anton had been crying.

Dew didn’t move a muscle. He stared at his captor with wide eyes from where he sat on the couch, and almost forgot to breathe for a moment. The atmosphere in the room was tense, and the only thing that could be heard was the noodles boiling on the stove.

“Basil died,” Anton mumbled.

Dew furrowed his brows. Basil? He thought. Who… wait, Anton’s pet mouse?

“I was… I was gonna introduce you two to each other this morning. But she was already gone… They were old, it was painless but unexpected for both of us. Those things just happen sometimes. And there’s nothing I could do. And now, now I’m all alone…” Anton’s voice grew quieter until it was almost impossible to hear. “The passage of time keeps going, even if… even if you’re still stuck in the past. Time doesn’t care about who you’ll miss or what you’ll regret or what you wished you would’ve done. It keeps… going. On and on and on forever. Until all you have is yourself and… Dew.”

Dew stared back at him blankly.

Anton looked up. His expression was nothing like Dew had ever seen on him before. He looked sad. It was so surreal. Dew didn’t think Anton could ever feel genuinely sad about something, being someone who’s completely fine with kidnapping and performing unethical experiments on another human being– excited about it, actually. “You… you can talk now.” Anton said.

Dew took a deep breath. He wasn’t expecting that. Any of that. “Is-is that why you didn’t– um, come down here today?”

“...Yeah, it was. I’m sorry for leaving you all alone. I fucked up. But– But Basil was my best friend and–” For the first time, Dew saw Anton cry.

Dew didn’t know how to feel about this. He should be angry, he should be jumping up and stabbing his fork into Anton’s neck and booking it the fuck outta there, never looking back. He should be shouting and screaming, he should be breaking down asking why the fuck he didn’t come down to feed him earlier, why he abandoned him. Why he left him all alone.

Dew did feel like doing all that, but he also felt a strange sense of pity. He knew what it was like to lose someone you loved, hell his friends were probably feeling the same way back home…

That realization made his stomach turn. Nah, Dew thought. Fuck that.

Dew shook those thoughts away, the thoughts that felt bad for the scientist keeping him captive, the person so attached to his so-called best friend, who was a literal mouse. Dew missed his friends too— and they missed him— but Anton didn’t seem to care about that, so why should Dew be expected to care about his captor’s mouse? Why should Dew have to care about anything this maniac was saying to him?

Dew stood. He looked across the counter to the knife block and ran towards it. He didn’t get very far, though. Anton— without even looking up from the ground— grabbed Dew’s ankle in an instant, making him lose his balance and fall to the floor.

The defiance in Dew’s eyes was replaced with utter terror again as he scurried backwards. Anton’s grip on Dew’s ankle became tighter as he dragged him closer, reaching for something in his pocket– probably a needle, Dew guessed.

“N-no, please,” Dew whispered in terror. “Please Anton– I’m sorry, I-I just– please don’t hurt me.”

Anton sighed and released his grip, making Dew fall backwards. Anton closed his eyes, leaning against the cupboards and holding his head in his hands.

“Don’t try anything,” Anton commanded, but his voice sounded more tired than angry. “Don’t try to attack me or escape, just stay here.” Anton saw the look of fear on Dew’s face, which only made him feel worse… Guilty, remorseful, all the things he tried so hard not to feel. But he supposed it didn’t matter now— how he felt. It wouldn’t change the past, it wouldn’t change anything. “And calm down. Relax.”

The second Anton uttered those words, Dew’s body did, in fact, relax. His heartbeat evened out and his breathing slowed. He looked around in displeased contemptment, knowing he should be scared, freaking out, angry, but he wasn’t. Those feelings were still there, but more than anything, he felt calm. Tranquil. It was as if he were sedated, but still wide awake and aware and in control, but calm about it all. It was a strange feeling, one he was oddly grateful for at this moment.

“I know you’re upset with me, okay?” Anton said, trying to make his voice sound at least a little comforting. “You have a right to be, I made a terrible mistake. I should’ve come down here earlier. It’s not your fault. I won’t hurt you.”

The timer on the stove beeped, and the spaghetti was done. Dew stood before Anton could pull himself up, and went straight for the food. He began frantically opening and closing cupboards, looking for the dishes and utensils instead of sticking his hands straight into the pot and burning himself.

“Here,” Anton said, opening a cabinet and handing Dew two bowls and forks. “Give me some too while you’re at it?”

It wasn’t like Dew had a choice, anyway. He scooped the noodles from the pan and filled the bowls to the brim with the tastiest looking spaghetti and meatballs he had ever seen. Dew timidly handed Anton his bowl, and sat back down on the couch.

“Don’t burn yourself,” Anton said as Dew raised a giant spoonful to his mouth. “Wait until it cools down a bit.”

Dew’s arm froze, the food right in front of him, but unable to take a bite. “Come on man,” Dew exclaimed. “Just let me eat, I’m hungry!”

“Fine,” Anton said.

Dew stuffed the spaghetti into his mouth and instantly regretted it. Mouth burning, he rushed to the fridge and pulled out a cold bottle of water.

“Told you.”

Dew glared at him, but took his advice. He’d let his food cool down a bit. But in the meantime…

“Dew, stop rummaging around in my fridge.”

“Can I at least have an apple?” Dew asked. “While the spaghetti cools down?”

“Fine,” Anton agreed. “But go sit back down.”

Dew thanked him and sat. He didn’t remember the last time an apple tasted this good. Dew was happy to finally be eating, but that didn’t ease the dread he felt.

He didn’t know how he could ever get used to his mind being controlled by a simple command. Anton could control almost everything about him now, what he does, how he feels… he hoped it only went that far. Dew realized he was probably lucky that Anton hadn't taken away his defiance yet, even though he could, so so easily do just that.

A sudden thought occurred to him: why hadn’t he? Surely it would be easier for the scientist for Dew to be a perfectly compliant and obedient test subject. But Dew still had hopes and dreams and a mind of his own. He was still determined to escape. But for what? What did Anton gain from letting Dew be himself?

He decided to not think about this. But still, Dew couldn’t do anything but sit there and wait. He couldn’t try attacking Anton or escape, and he couldn’t burst out in a rage fueled outburst or sob into the couch cushions. Because Anton simply told him not to.

They sat there, Dew huddled up on the couch, and Anton sitting on the floor. The dim, yellow light from the stove, mixed with the taste of spaghetti reminded Dew of cozy autumn nights indoors with his friends. It was that time of year already, and they were probably thinking about the same thing back home.

“I miss them so much,” Anton said. He looked so fucking sad. Dew grimaced. It shouldn’t matter what Anton felt, he was a monster.

“Mice aren’t solitary creatures, Anton.” Dew said as he took a big bite of his spaghetti. “You shouldn’t have kept it alone.”

“No,” Anton began. “Basil was different. She was all but human.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Anton glared at him, and Dew closed his mouth. The scientist rolled his eyes and sighed. “I guess you deserve an explanation…”

When Anton didn’t say anything more, Dew spoke, “...Yeah.” He fidgeted nervously with the spaghetti on his fork. “So, um, are you gonna tell me?”

“Yes,” Anton sighed. He took another drink from that flask and started talking. “It was… around 13 years ago. She was my first um– test subject. I didn’t hurt him, I didn’t want to. But I needed to test something out and I had nobody else to test on– and I couldn’t just clone myself and use the clone as a test subject back then either–”

“Wait, clone yourself?”

“Shut up.” Anton hissed. “So I needed to test something out, and Basil was only a mouse. So I used them for it. And… My experiment worked. She started becoming smarter, like incredibly intelligent for a mouse. And then I invented a device that allows animals to talk, and once again, he was first to try it out. And it worked. And she talked to me. We quickly became friends.

“She wasn’t just a mouse, she had gained the brain capacity of a person. He could think and feel and comprehend abstract concepts and thoughts just like a person can… And their lifespan– that got longer as well.

“They lived for 13 years, Dew. That’s not possible. I made something live longer. And after only a few weeks, she wasn’t my test subject anymore, she was my friend, my animal companion. And uh, he didn’t like that I became friends with every animal I tested on, so that’s when he started letting me experiment on his human test subjects instead of animals.”

“Wait, who’s he?” Dew asked.

“Pierce. The man who raised me into who I am. It doesn’t matter. He realized I couldn’t stand hurting animals so he didn’t force me to. My whole life I followed in his footsteps… He took me in after I became an orphan. He saved me, and taught me everything I know about science.”

“So when I was 12, I started experimenting on human test subjects. It was fun, we had fun. I loved my life and… and then, eight years ago, I met… them.”

“Who’s them?” Dew asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Anton hissed. He only then realized he was probably saying too much. He needed to end this conversation before Dew asked any more questions. “...But Basil was the closest thing they had to anything good in their life. And when they…” Anton’s gaze looked distant, lost in thought. “Um, anyways, Basil was– she was all I had left of them. And now she’s gone. They’re both gone. And, and I’m all alone.”

They sat in silence for a few moments. Dew couldn’t help but sympathize with… Basil. She obviously didn’t deserve to die, and Dew felt sad when animals died, it was only natural. He remembered his parents, how he’d tried so, so hard not to think about them the past eight weeks– five years for that matter. It was too painful.

But everything was painful now, thinking about his friends and his life that was taken from him. They were probably missing Dew just as much as Anton missed Basil now, and he didn’t seem to care about that.

But… Dew now knew what he did care about, more than him. “Why don’t you just… bring Basil back to life?”

Anton’s head snapped up, brows furrowing. “That’s unethical,” he said.

“What, did your mouse have a ‘do not resuscitate’ label or something? You do unethical experiments on me all the time! You respect a mouse more than me? Seriously?”

“That's not funny.”

“They’re already dead! Use their body instead of mine! Just bring them back from the dead, that can be your next experiment! You want to invent immortality right? Well there’s your lab rat!”

“Shut up!” Anton hissed. Dew’s words died on his tongue as his mind was taken control over once again. Dew silently glared instead. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. And you’re still my test subject, that’s not changing. Don’t think because now you know a little bit about my past, you can use that to change my mind. I won’t ever let you go. Understand?”

“Y-yeah. Sorry.”

It was quiet again. After they were done eating, Dew put the dishes in the sink as Anton continued to sulk on the floor. This was by far the strangest situation Dew had been in ever since he was brought here. He thought about earlier, about how bored he was. If Anton really was serious about keeping Dew here forever, he must realize Dew needed something to keep him entertained for when he was bored.

“Hey, Anton…?” Dew asked. It was a shot in the dark, but nothing bad could happen by asking. “Re-remember when you said a while ago you might give me back my music? Like my MP3 player and headphones? It-it was just so, so boring being alone earlier with nothing to do and I really feel like listening to music would help me calm down and–”

“You want it back?” Anton asked.

“Y-yeah. If-if that’s okay I mean–”

Anton pondered for a moment. “Yeah, sure.” He stood up and walked to his desk. Dew remembered the mess he made earlier during his stupid attempt to put together a bag of evidence, and hoped Anton wouldn’t get too mad about it. The scientist came back holding a pair of headphones and an MP3 player in his hands. Dew almost felt like he was dreaming again. Almost.

“Here,” Anton handed Dew his things, and Dew felt like he could cry. He’d missed this so much. “It’s not your original MP3 player. I had that and your headphones… destroyed. But I made an exact copy. And these headphones are better than the other ones, with more noise canceling settings and such.”

“Th-thanks. So much.” Dew said.

“Don’t mention it. I should’ve known sooner you’d get bored.”

Dew looked through the MP3 player, happy to find out all of his favorite songs were still there. This was the happiest he’s felt since… since… the vents earlier.

Anton hummed, taking another big gulp of that potion looking thing. “I suppose I should get rid of this, then.”

“Are you sure that’s even safe?” Dew asked apprehensively.

“I dunno. Probably not… But I have ways to heal myself if things go bad. This uh, seems to be working though… numbing the pain and all that… And keeping me thoroughly distracted. I’ll be surprised if I remember any of this by tomorrow.” Anton pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “I was an idiot earlier. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“And now, everything just feels fuzzy. Nothing has felt real since this morning, and I’m hoping this’ll all turn out to be a bad dream… But I know it won’t.” Anton looked up to Dew, who was watching him wearily with wide eyes. The scientist tilted his head slightly. “Who knows, Dew, maybe I’ll just erase this entire day from your memory so you won’t have to see me so… vulnerable and sad.”

“P-please don’t–”

“Relax. I’m not like that. I will never mess with your memories like that. Ever. So don’t worry about that. Okay?”

“O-okay.”

Anton sighed. “Anyway, I’m sorry about today. Neither of us wanted this to happen and it will never happen again. I’m supposed to be a genius scientist, not an emotional mess who… who drinks random mixtures of chemicals as a coping mechanism. This is extremely irresponsible and unprofessional… not like I ever cared about being professional, but still.”

Dew nodded, half pretending to be listening to Anton ramble on as he plugged the headphones in and put them on. He started playing his favorite song, but paused it when Anton started talking again.

“Anyway… Basil’s gone.” Anton said. “My best friend is gone, and you’re all I have left.” Dew gulped, this couldn’t be heading anywhere good. “I… I didn’t get to introduce you two, but that’s fine, I suppose. Now I can focus all of my attention onto you, and my experiments. And Dew, don’t think I’ll start going easy on you after this either. …Experiments begin again tomorrow. Anyway, let’s get you to bed, I’m fucking tired.”

“Wait,” Dew said before he could stop himself and think. “I um. I don’t wanna be alone again.”

Anton blinked. “...Okay, uh…” The scientist looked around and picked up a loose chain with cuffs on both ends. “You can sleep out here I guess. Just for tonight.” Anton attached the chain to Dew’s wrist, and cuffed the other end to his own.

“What are–”

“You don’t wanna be alone right? Me neither. I’ll sleep over here. This chain is just to keep you from running away during the night.” Anton grabbed a few blankets from under the couch, and tossed the bigger, fluffier one to Dew. Then he sat back down in his spot against the cupboards and curled up in a ball on the hard floor.

Dew grimaced. Weirdo, he thought. But a sleepover with the scientist was better than being locked back in his room, he supposed. Dew laid down on the couch, snuggling into the blanket. Anton used a device to turn off the lights, and they settled off to bed. Before Dew drifted off to sleep, he gave the chain light tug. It couldn’t hurt to try.

“Don’t even think about it,” Anton mumbled. “I’ll know if you get up.”

“Okay…” Dew said.

“Agh, you know what– just don’t move from that spot until morning.” Anton’s control took hold of his mind once again, and without anything to do, Dew turned on his music and closed his eyes.

“Goodnight, Dewey.” Anton said, half asleep on the floor. Dew chose not to respond.

As Dew laid curled up on the couch, unable to move, he thought about everything that happened the past day. The vents. The broken camera. The strange science concoction Anton was using as makeshift alcohol to drown out all his problems… the fact Anton didn’t know about the vents.

For the first time, Dew was one step ahead of the scientist; he had an advantage that Anton was completely oblivious to. He had the vents. He had a way to escape that only he knew about, and something Anton definitely wouldn’t be expecting. It was perfect. He could use the notepad he was hiding in his pocket to map out the air ducts, and eventually find the way out. And he’d make his escape during the night, when Anton wasn’t awake to mind-control him. Dew’s new plan could work, it would take a while, but it could actually work and that was all he cared about.

Giddy with newfound excitement and hope, Dew turned his music up, filling his ears with his favorite songs he had missed so much the past 8 weeks. Yes, the past day was hell, and a new kind of torture he’d never want to endure again, but it also presented him with the perfect escape plan.

Besides that, Dew felt like he learned a lot about Anton and his weird past. He hoped that could all be beneficial to him in the future. But he was also filled with so many more questions than answers, and the burning desire to never be alone again.

—

soooo hi! i feel bad about killing Basil off,, originally they just existed as something to develop the story, but then i got kiiinda attached. i have a few au ideas where she didn’t die, or where they’re a tiny borrower science lab assistant, and other stuff like that that i might draw or write about in the near future so yea. besides that, normal tllr chapters with normal experiments coming soon, hopefully not in another three weeks

if ur sad about Basil dying, take this <3 and this :P

taglist: @whumpinthepot @shywhumpauthor @whump-me-all-night-long @whump321 @fuckcapitalismasshole @sorry-i-spaced @theelvishcowgirl @catnykit @tettlod @delicateprincepaper @rejectedbytheempty @mijajaj @anothertawogsideblog @creppersfunpalooza @toyybox

let me know if you want to be removed or added to the taglist!

[paradox-destroyer]

You're really gonna say that about time when your parents figured out time travel?

I highly doubt my dad reads most of my posts unless he's mentioned, tagged, or they're about Koraidon.

[heniareth]

Sick Astala!!

I am retconning her mother's death to happen when she was fourteen. The winter that followed was Bad. Not only was it extremely cold and the weather was bad even by Fereldan standards, but there was a bad cough going through the Alienage. Astala had been keeping fort in the household ever since her mother died (Cyrion was... grieving) and kept going even when her father and Shianni got that very same cough. They made it. As soon as they got better, Astala herself got sick. Luckily, by that point Cyrion had managed to drag himself out of the deep dark hole of grief he had fallen into. Still, they were all scared. Shianni especially so

(Also I am so sorry to Soris in the backgroynd he does Not Look like himself. One day I'll draw you properly Soris I promise)