#subject: rat

[leddlabs]

ASK BOX OPEN!

Hello! We here at LEDDLabs have decided to allow you, The Public, to send in questions for our test subjects! Specifically, the testing group consisting of:

Moe,

Ollie,

and Rat.

Just send me your questions through the Ask Box feature, and I'll post their answers!*

[roach-works]

ok im waffling on about fallout instead of having breakfast but i saw a criticism of how the prisoners were treated that's stuck with me.

spoilers!

so i think the criticism wasn't incorrect, per se: it condemned the way the show portrayed the vault dweller's naive intention to rehabilitate their murderous captives. it found fault with a common, and horrible, message that tv shows like to say, which is that carcerial violence and even the death penalty is the only effective way to deal with criminals, who are a fundamentally Bad category of human. im sick of that message too! but i think that wasn't what was going on here, actually.

so like, the vault dwellers had only ever experienced violent loss the once, and didn't really know how to cope other than denial and repression of the ordeal. but they were all hopeful and enthusiastic that their prisoners, the invaders that came to kill them all and take their stuff, could be eventually welcomed into the community as their comrades. the champions of this cause were nebbishy dorks and painfully out of touch academics. this is pretty normal for how prison reformers are portrayed, if extremely fucking annoying for those of us who ARE in favor of prison reform.

but so of course when the son of the former overseer, Norm, speaks up and suggests killing the prisoners, because why should they share resources with invaders who explicitly wanted to keep hurting them? why should they show mercy to their attackers? everyone is appalled by this suggestion. because they had to reinvent the whole concept of vengeance right then and there, because grudges and cycles of violence are anathema to a bottle society like theirs. they have been raised all their lives to forgive and forget and now, put to the test, they're recommitting to this ethos: get along, let the past go, look towards the future, believe the best of everyone.

but the prisoners die, anyway. the prisoners are killed with rat poison. and the thing is that Norm who suggested it didn't do it himself. and the prison guard who's blamed for it, even though she privately agreed with Norm that the prisoners are dangerous and unforgiveable, she didn't do it either. it's not a moment of triumphant, cathartic vengeance and it doesn't prove that there's no way to negotiate with terrorists and invaders but kill them like vermin because that's not what the message is meant to be.

the message is that norm stands there in the middle of these inconvenient prisoners, these corpses dressed in his own people's uniforms, and he looks at the new overseer. and he knows that she killed them, and she knows that he knows. she wanted him to know. this is her message and he's reading her loud and clear. and he doesn't look like a guy who's just been backed up by authority, who's just been validated in his desire for the ultimate control over those who have wronged him.

he's scared and pale and the music is ominous as fuck. and he's inside the cell, he's directly in the middle of it.

because what just happened is that he realized his entire society is being held prisoner, and the overseer is the one with the rat poison. and that he doesn't know, anymore, what freedom and safety and justice actually mean, just that he doesn't have them and he doesn't know where to find them.

that's what that scene meant. not that rehabilitative justice is a pathetic delusion of people who have no idea how to make hard choices.

but that before you advocate for killing prisoners, you might want to see how big that prison is, first.

and which side of the bars you're standing on.

[toffee-biscuits]

the train rat himself, in a toy train fit just for him! ...and a thomas the tank engine version, bcus a friend said I could xD

[unusualsims]

Visits from dad

[marc--chilton]

house finding wilson ""interesting"" amongst a literal crowd of thousands is one thing but then to be proven right later when wilson flips his lid at a bar. theyre literally fanfiction but real but not

[whumpy-wyrms]

The Last Lab Rat #19: Eye Spy…

previous | masterlist | next

content: lab whump, captivity, experimentation, nonsexual nudity, drugging, mind control, panic attack, sensory deprivation, fear of drowning, near death experience, sensory overload, angst, suicidal ideation, winged test subject whumpee, creepy scientist carewhumper

heed the warnings on this one folks… :)

— 

Despite things happening to Dew that he was never thought possible, nothing was making being here a better experience. His body and mind were changing without his control, he hadn’t seen the sun in weeks, and despite trying so hard not to, he missed his old life. But the scientist was more giddy than ever, seemingly too enraptured with the experiments to notice Dew’s obvious sinking despair.

That was all it was, now. The same routine. Torturous experiments that left him in pain, dulling and mind-numbing tests, the scientist’s voice describing it all in his tape recorders, and the small moments of peace and comfort he got inbetween it all.

Dew wondered what would happen next. What the next horrible modification to his body would be, how much it would change him, how much of himself would be left when it was over. He wondered how his clone was doing, if his friends even suspected anything. He wondered how long this would go on for, how long he could last, how long he even wanted to last.

The past couple of days, Anton had been working in the lab alone, on something that was unknown to Dew. He’d brought out a giant rectangular tank of some sort, and had been messing around with the strange liquid inside. He refused to elaborate on it, and Dew had no choice but to ignore it.

So he was stuck in his small room, unable to really do anything besides draw, but even that grew tiring. Sometimes Sasha would show up, but they’d barely talk to each other, neither of them really having anything interesting to say.

His eyes felt mostly back to normal by now, and he was content without wearing a blindfold all the time. His third eye felt natural to him, and he almost forgot about it if not for him accidentally zoning out and seeing through objects sometimes.

The scientist had let up on him too, and Dew was allowed to do things on his own again. He was behaving, after all, and Anton wanted to respect his privacy and space as much as he coul, as if Dew was still a person.

He was still a person. Sometimes it was hard to believe that anymore.

“Dew,” Anton said, though he sounded so, so far away. “Wake up.”

“Huh?” Dew sat up and stretched, wings flapping lightly in contentment. Just another morning.

“Here’s your food.”

“Thanks.”

“You experiencing any more changes with your eyes?” Anton asked as Dew ate his breakfast. The scientist was wearing his weird goggles again, today.

“Nope. Just darkness.” He stared off into space, watching Anton write that down in his clipboard. Then he saw the scientist’s heartbeat through his chest. He blinked, and focused on the blindfold. Darkness.

“Hmm, okay. We have a pretty important experiment today. I’m excited.”

“Aren’t they all important?”

“Well, yes, but this one is…” The scientist waved his hands excitedly. “It will change everything, if all goes right.”

“They all change everything…” Dew mumbled, looking to the ground.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“Anyway, you can take off your blindfold, you won’t be needing it. I’ll turn the lights out when we get there. Oh, and don’t bother putting on the hospital gown. Unfortunately, clothes will just get in the way of this one.”

“Oh… alright.” So it would be something different this time, after all.

They walked into the lab, and Dew could see the giant glass tank that Anton had been working on for the past few days up close. Getting a better look, he noticed it was filled with nothing but a pitch black liquid. He wouldn’t have thought it was glass at first, but the edges of it were thick and clear, so it had to be. The liquid inside was so dark and opaque, and he couldn’t even see through it if he tried, as focusing all his concentration on it just made his head hurt. This was the first time he’d been completely unable to see through something with his new eyes.

There was a ladder leaning against the tank, and the top of it looked like it could be opened and closed. The tank itself was smaller than the giant glass tube filled with green liquid on the other side of the lab, the one that had always been there but to Dew’s understanding, went unused. This one was just a few feet taller than him, and wide enough to hold his arms straight out in all directions, but not much else. The thought of being stuck in there filled him with dread.

He thought it surely had to do with whatever the scientist was going to do to him today. But he’d stopped spying on Anton’s notes and plans after a while, not caring about what happened to him anymore as the tests on his eyes grew more and more mundane and repetitive. This one though, seemed different. Perhaps he should’ve snuck a peak.

“Ah, yes,” Anton began, turning to Dew with that familiar unhinged, giddy expression. “You’re probably wondering what this is, right?” He gestured to the giant tank while casually leaning a hand against it.

Dew faked a smile. “Yeah.” He found the scientist to be in a better mood when he pretended to care about what he was saying, when he pretended to be happy to be there.

“Of course you do,” Anton said theatrically. “This tank here can hold just about anything in it, it’s very strong, impossible to break through. It can’t be moved from this spot, but it can be lowered into the floor, where it’s usually stored and out of the way. But you don’t have to worry about that, I have another way of making whoever’s inside be enclosed in complete darkness.”

“W-wait, inside?”

“Yes! For this experiment, you’ll be going inside the tank. The stuff it’s filled with is what I’ve been working on. When you go inside of it, it will— well, it’d be more fun as a surprise I think. But it’s breathable. You won’t drown in it, if that’s what you’re thinking. It’s perfectly safe.”

Well, shit. “W-what are you gonna do to me?” Dew asked miserably.

Anton adjusted the goggles on his face, making them glow a bright green. He smiled. “You’ll find out soon.”

The entire lab faded to complete darkness, but Dew’s eyes adjusted quickly. The scientist had his night vision goggles on, and was writing something down in his clipboard. Dew waited in agonizing silence until Anton snapped on some black rubber gloves and started preparing a syringe.

“Don’t worry, Dewey. Just two injections. They’ll be over quickly.” The first syringe was huge, almost the biggest one he’d used on him yet. It was filled with a glowing orange liquid, fizzy with bubbles. Anton flicked it hard a few times, and brought it towards him.

Dew was about to ask if he could wear his headphones during this, distract himself with loud music blasting through his ears, but Anton was quick to inject the syringe into Dew’s neck before he got a word out. Pure agony erupted in his veins, just for a moment, but then it was over.

Dew didn’t even have time to process what had happened before Anton was injecting something else into his arm, but a far more familiar and just a little less painful substance than the first. By now, Dew recognised it as something that’d probably make him feel weak and sleepy, a sedative of some sort.

“All done,” Anton said, putting the needles away and walking back to Dew. “Now, we have to wait a little bit for the stuff to set in. In the meantime, you can, uh, take off your shirt and pants. You won’t be needing them.”

“O-oh. Okay.” Dew did as he was asked, and Anton tossed his clothes to the side. “Now what?”

“We wait. Tell me if you start to feel anything, okay?”

“Okay,” Dew said. And they waited. Anton spun in his chair with a smile on his face while Dew stood there awkwardly in the dark, cold and exposed, waiting in agonizing anticipation for something to happen. It was almost numbing, thinking about it, wondering what was going to happen.

A few moments passed, and Dew started to feel strange. His face scrunched up in confusion, then a worried realization.

“H-hey um, Anton?” Dew whimpered, scratching at his arms. “I don’t… I don’t f-feel anything.”

“Good,” Anton mused. “You’re not supposed to feel anything.” He took Dew’s wrist and led him to the ladder.

“W-what?”

“It’ll be okay, just trust me. Now, climb into the tank, Dew.”

Dew stepped towards the ladder, taking apprehensive glances back at the scientist. He put a hand on it, but felt nothing against his palm. “I-I’m scared.”

“Just relax. Climb up the ladder.” Dew felt his body move automatically, the scientist in control of his every action. He watched his hands gripping the ladder and his legs climbing up it, but felt nothing. “Good, that’s it.”

The entire top of the tank was covered by a thick metal lid, with a latch on one side. Dew crawled on top of it, and sat opposite from the ladder. Now that he was free from Anton’s grasp, he realized he was losing more and more feeling in his body. “I can’t- I can’t breathe—”

“You can, you probably just don’t feel it. That’s okay. You’re gonna be okay, Dew.” The scientist climbed up the ladder after him, and Dew sat in place. Anton unlocked the latch, and slid the top half open. Dew could now see the inside clearly, the strange dark liquid only a few inches away from him. He knew where this was going. And he was unrestrained, he could still jump down or fly away from this. But of course, he couldn’t feel his wings either.

While Dew was staring into the darkness of the tank, he hadn’t noticed that Anton started to attach some wires to his skin, long, dangly things that attached to the tank and led to the machines and screens by his desk. Once he was all hooked up to whatever that was, the scientist placed his hands firmly on Dew’s sides, making his hair stand on end. “I’m going to lower you down now, alright? Stay nice and still for me, Dew. Everything will be fine.”

Dew tried to wiggle out of his grip, but he couldn’t seem to muster up the strength. “N-no, please, I don’t wanna do this,” He whimpered.

“It’s okay. This won’t hurt you.” Dew curled into himself as Anton lifted him up, and lowered him down.

Dew expected it to be cold, or warm, or to feel like something, but it felt like absolutely nothing. Half of his body was submerged, but he wouldn’t have even known that if he weren’t looking right at it. His body disappeared under the liquid completely, and the thought of his head being submerged made him want to cry. He grabbed onto Anton’s arms, silently begging him to stop or slow his descent. He tried to kick out, but he couldn’t feel or see if his legs were moving or not, or if they even could. He couldn’t touch the bottom, couldn’t kick his legs to swim, couldn’t keep his head above the surface if he were to be dropped inside.

“Anton, p-please. I- I don’t feel anything. I can’t- I-I can’t even feel my own heartbeat! That’s gotta be bad, right?” Dew let go of Anton’s arms and grabbed the ledge of the tank, scared that the scientist would let go and he’d have nothing to grab on to. “I-I feel like I’m gonna die— I don’t w-wanna die!”

The scientist let go and took a few steps down the ladder, reaching eye level with his test subject. He extended his hand towards Dew to ruffle his hair like he had done so many times before. He laughed maniacally. “Dew, if it was gonna kill you, it would have by now. I would never let anything bad happen to you. You’re completely safe.”

“P-please!” Dew held on for dear life. He couldn’t go under. He couldn’t. “I d-don’t wanna do th-this!”

“Shhh…” Anton said. And despite it all, he still seemed to have a hold on Dew’s brain, forcing him to relax deeper into himself. “Any minute now, you’ll start to get weaker. I recommend getting yourself comfortable in there before you succumb to the drugs.”

“And- and if I don’t?”

“You won’t be strong enough to keep holding yourself up like this. It’d be less distressing for you to go under on your own will. But I suppose it doesn’t really matter; you’ll go down either way.”

“But I…I can’t…”

His words were getting awfully sluggish, and it was becoming increasingly harder to hold on and keep himself upright.

“N-no…”

His eyelids were growing heavier and heavier, and it was taking a great deal of concentration to try and keep his one sense he had left.

“You’ll be okay, Dew. I promise.”

He looked up at Anton with wide, horrified eyes, as the scientist gently pried his fingers off of the ledge, and let go of his hands. Now that he was no longer holding onto anything, and had no feeling in his limbs, he began to sink deeper into the liquid. The last thing he saw before his head was submerged in that pitch dark fluid, was the scientist smiling down at him, the glow of his bright green goggles, and his hand slowly moving the lid closed.

Then, darkness. Complete and absolute darkness. Dew was fully submerged.

He couldn’t feel a thing. Not even the heavy beat of his own heart. He opened his mouth to scream but didn’t hear or feel a single sound come out. He tried to flail his arms, but he had no perception of moving anything at all. His vision was filled with a dark abyss of nothingness, and he definitely couldn’t taste the bile rising in his throat.

He tried desperately to bang on the glass, but with everything being pitch black and his sense of touch gone, it was impossible to know what he was actually doing with his body. He couldn’t tell whether this fluid affected his ability to see through the dark and objects, or whether his sense of sight was gone just like all his other senses.

Dew felt nothing. He felt as if he didn’t even have a body. If he was moving, if someone was talking to him, if he was even breathing— under this strange liquid— he wouldn't know. All he had was his mind, and his terrified racing thoughts to accompany him in this hellish limbo.

Dew felt like he was nothing but a brain in a jar. He felt like he was floating through space with no concept of human existence. No, he felt like he didn’t exist at all.

Wait.

Was he dead?

Is this what death was?

Dew never really thought about what happens when you die. He hoped there was a better place, and that it would be peaceful, but it didn’t matter in the end, because everyone died.

The concept of literally ceasing to exist always filled Dew with a strange feeling he couldn't describe. It was incomprehensible, but he wasn’t against the idea.

But this wasn’t that. Sure, he was floating in nothing but a black abyss, but he still existed. He could still think, and feel emotions, and wonder, and want so, so badly to know what was happening to him.

His life flashed before his eyes. His childhood with his family, his friends, his pets, his hobbies and his passions and hopes and dreams. He thought about happy days, sad days, sleepovers, being alone, camping trips, anxiety, coming out, failing, music, hurt feelings, school, loss, video games, grief, art, regret. He thought about everything Anton had given him, and everything he had taken away. He thought about the lab, his tomb.

Was this really all his short and pathetic life was for? To live, just to die? Just to die here, alone, by the hands of his tormentor during another horrible experiment on him? He never got to say goodbye to his friends or his pets or his parents. He never got to say goodbye.

It felt like an eternity, floating there, wherever he was, or wasn’t anymore.

Time passed on infinitely. He felt himself fading away.

Just as fast as this whole thing started, it ended. Dew opened his eyes— or maybe they were always open— and all five of his senses came back in a heavy, overwhelming wave.

No. He thought. He didn’t want to feel. He was supposed to be dead. He was supposed to be free.

“...ey? Dewey? Can you hear me? Wake up, Dew. Please wake up.”

Dew’s hands immediately flew up to cover his ears, and he squeezed his eyes shut, letting out a pained yelp.

He was out of that horrible tank, laying next to it on the hard and cold floor, and the scientist was looming over him.

And he could feel everything again.

His heartbeat pounded deep and heavy in his chest and echoed through his ears. His eyes were wide and everything was far too bright and intense but closing his eyes meant he’d be back in that dark abyss, and he- he couldn’t go back there again. He felt his wings and their primal, yearning desire to fly, and he flapped them rapidly, feathers slapping against the floor beneath him. It was all too much.

“Dew, Dew calm down.” Anton’s voice was frantic. “You’re okay. I-I fucked it up, but you’re okay. We’re done now, this- this obviously has much more work to be done to it.”

“You said you wouldn’t kill me!” Dew sobbed.

“Hey. Dew, listen to my voice. You’re okay, you’re— look at me,” Anton dimmed the lights in the lab and waited for Dew’s eyes to focus on him— all three of them. “I-I didn’t kill you. Not at all. You- you were just unconscious. You didn’t die, and you’re still alive. You’re alive.” The scientist was stumbling over his words. Dew had never seen him like this before.

“Get the fuck away from me! Let me go! Let me out of here!”

“Okay, okay. Please calm down.” Dew saw the sight of a syringe and began to sob harder, he was hysterical. Anton quickly injected him, though it was hard when he didn’t stop moving. Dew’s struggles started to die down and after a while, he slumped against the floor and stared teary eyed at Anton.

The scientist just kneeled there, at his side, staring at him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you,” Dew slurred. “What the fuck- what the f…”

“Shhh, sh sh sh.” Anton said, and started messily carding a hand through his hair. “Relax, Dew. Calm down. You’re okay.”

“G-go to hell.”

“Shh. Let’s- let’s get you out of here.” Anton picked him up, holding onto him tighter than ever, and carried him to the couch by the kitchen. He laid him down and rested the side of his head to his chest, still clinging to him. Dew laid his head on the arm rest, and used the last of his strength to swat at the scientist with his wings.

Anton curled a hand through Dew’s hair, and wrapped his other hand around his torso. “Dew- Stop that, I’m just trying to make sure—”

“That I’m alive?”

“Yes.” Anton breathed heavily, closing his eyes and listening to Dew’s heart.

“How- how long?” Dew said quietly.

“What?”

“How long did you k-keep me in there?”

“Just, just a few hours, why?”

Tears fell from Dew’s cheeks. “It felt like forever. Like- an eternity. It felt like I was dead.”

Anton just held him tighter.

“I-I need to check your vitals,” Anton said suddenly, but it took him a while to finally move from that spot.

Dew laid there limply as Anton examined him. Sometimes he’d swat at him with his wings. Strange shadows kept consuming his vision and he tried to swat them away too. An icy chill went down Dew’s body as Anton put a stethoscope over his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut. It was all too much. It was all too much.

“Just a- just a bit elevated, but I supposed, that's to be expected.”

“A-Anton?” Dew squeaked.

“Yes?” The scientist turned all his attention to him, like he was the only thing in the world that mattered.

“P-please don’t d-do that to me ag-again. Please.”

“No, yeah, I-I won’t. I won’t. Never again. I’m sorry. I-I’m so sorry.”

That was all Dew needed to hear when he broke down, grasping at the scientist’s sweater and sobbing into his chest. Anton hugged him back tightly, both of them clinging to one another as if their lives depended on it.

“Just let it out, buddy,” Anton said, rubbing Dew’s back and carding a hand through his hair. “That’s right. It’s okay, Dew. Shhh.”

They were like that for a while, neither of them knowing how long. Gradually, they both started to relax, heavy and rapid breathing turning calm and quiet.

Eventually, Dew fell asleep, and after a while of laying with him, Anton stood up. Running a trembling hand through his own disheveled hair, he went to clean up the mess he’d made. He stared at the scattered papers, spilled liquid, dropped pens and broken tape recorders that were littered around his desk, and grabbed a device. He pressed a button, and watched the giant glass tank lower back into the floor.

What a failure. A failure. But he could hardly think about that now. It’d been hours, it was well into the night; what they both needed was sleep. Tomorrow would be better.

After cleaning up the lab, Anton stood up, straightened his lab coat, and walked towards the couch. Dew was sleeping, body exhausted from the day’s events, but he was perfectly okay. He was breathing steady, blood pressure stable, brain active, healthy. Everything turned out okay. This experiment just needed some improvements, was all. They’d try again. …Or not, that was always okay too. Anton had more plans, better plans, than this stupid, reckless idea.

He picked his test subject up and carried him to his room. Anton lingered in his doorway for a little longer than usual, before saying goodnight, and heading out the door.

. . .

Dew woke up later that night. Everything was quiet, and dark, and cold, just like it had always been. He was lying on his back, blinking up at the ceiling, not able to muster up the energy to roll over and wrap his wings around himself and curl up into a ball and cry like he usually did. He just stared, alone and sad. He was glad he could at least see through the darkness, this time.

Dew moved his arms above his head, under his pillow. He felt the cool, sharp metal of his knife.

He could have used it. But he left it sitting abandoned in his pillowcase, day after day. It wouldn’t have been hard for the scientist to find it, or for Dew to get caught trying to stab him. But neither of them did. It existed, unused, as nothing more than something just to have hidden from the scientist.

Dew took out the knife. It stood out in this darkness, the shine glimmering off of his eyes as he turned it around in his hand. He wasn’t holding onto it very tight, he noticed. He was holding it in front of his face, laying down, staring up at the ceiling. If he dropped it, it would land on him. He’d have a scar on his face he wouldn’t be able to explain. Anton would take the knife away in the morning. Dew tightened his grip.

He closed his eyes. Nothing would get better here. Nothing. He was being good, he was doing everything Anton asked of him. He accepted his life here. He would never leave. This was it. This was it. All the pain and experimentation he had to endure every single day would be his life forever. Dew thought things might’ve gotten better if he just complied, but things got worse, he just fell deeper and deeper into his pit of despair. He’d never leave this place, he’d never see his friends again, and he’d never stop being used as a lab rat.

Dew sobbed quietly, squeezing the handle of the knife until his hand started to tremble. He couldn’t take it anymore. He needed the pain to stop.

But he— he couldn’t! Dew had never felt this way before! He didn’t want to die! He didn't!

But he thought… maybe… he’d get to finally escape this hell for good, and see his parents again.

His ears rang, which made it hard to tell if the humming above him was real or not.

No, there was absolutely somebody humming nearby. It was coming from the ceiling— in a corner by the door. Dew furrowed his brows and tried to listen deeper. It was a tune he recognised, but one he hadn’t heard in a long time. The voice sounded smooth and peaceful, and yet shaky and quiet, almost impossible to hear. But it sounded so real. It sounded nice. He must be hallucinating.

Dew thought that if he opened his eyes, he’d be all alone, and the pleasant, comforting sound would stop. But if he didn’t, he’d never know where that sound was coming from. What did he have to lose? Dew opened his eyes.

His heart all but stopped.

Up in the corner of his room was a person. A whole person, just… floating there, curled up in a ball while their dangly locks of hair floated all around them. Their skin was dark, and they wore a baggy yellow sweater, but it almost looked desaturated. In fact, their whole body looked like it was blending into the darkness, blurry and hard to focus on, but so very visible to him. They were humming to themself, quietly, rocking back and forth in the air as if they were floating in space, or in the middle of the ocean. Their eyes were squeezed shut— but it was hard to tell because their hair completely covered one of them— and they didn’t seem to notice that Dew was staring.

He had no idea what to do. He must be hallucinating. He couldn’t trust his mind anymore— or his eyes; they were all fucked up, changed beyond recognition. He could see through darkness and walls and objects, of course his brain would trick him into seeing things that weren’t there. Or even… see through into…

No. No. That wasn’t possible. This wasn’t real. Dew was being silly, and stupid. He should just put the knife down and go to sleep.

But he didn’t want to.

“Hey,” Dew said, sitting upright and pulling the blanket to his chest. He got no response. “H-Hey.” The person opened their one visible eye and looked at him with a blank, but pained expression.

“Wh-who are you?” Dew asked.

A beat. Their eye went unnaturally wide for a fraction of a moment. “You can… You can see me…?” They asked, and their voice sounded soft, yet pained, echoey, hollow, like floating in a cave deep underground, crystal clear water dripping down from the stalactites into a shallow pool, letting out a drop amidst the silence. When they spoke, it felt as if they were all around the room and yet nowhere all at once, it felt as if they were touching Dew’s mind and yet far, far away.

Dew brought his knees to his chest. “Y-yeah. Who are you?” He asked again, voice wavering. “What’s going on?”

They blinked, and it felt like their eye was piercing into his soul. A wave of hazy emotions flowed through Dew, a sense of longing and comfort and relief and horror and suffering and sadness all at once. It felt like an ache of dread deep in his chest that didn’t seem to ever go away. He felt deep underwater, drowning in the energy that emitted off the person in his room. Dew didn’t know how long the two of them stared at each other for; time seemed to have stopped completely. He felt like the two of them were the center of the universe, deep in an endless void, alone. And yet, it felt so comforting— and horrifying— when they finally spoke again.

“I’m Max…” The ghost said. “The last lab rat.”

— 

:)

(max’s pronouns are they/them)

taglist:

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

[mollysunder]

Sinco as a ship are such boring middle aged men together, and I think that's beautiful. When they're together all their ruthlessness and banal violence almost cancels out, almost. Silco and Singed aren't after the same goal, but they're both just on the same wavelength that there's no real argument or manipulation, it's just two men in agreement to spend over a decade of their lives working together.

Almost nothing seems like an argument between them, they're just on the same page. Silco and Singed are completely independent of eachother and it makes their relationship all the more intentional. They're both set in their ways in what they want and who they have to be to get it, but the two have carved a space for each other in their lives.

Singed is so sparing with his empathy, but is willing to extend it to Silco, while Silco is willing to trust Singed with Jinx. Except in the case of their children, there's not much further these men go in forms vulnerability for anyone else but eachother.

[jero-2tek]

In the not too distant future, elite athletes are not only required to undergo substance testing but also much more invasive testing for illicit implants designed to enhance performance. These tests would often have side-effects that were unexpected, at least by the athletes...

[jordanstrophe]

Scientist caretaker captures a non-human whumpee in order to prove their species is real.

What they didn't anticipate was whumpee would be hauled off to be studied and experimented on in the name of science.

[sisterofthesouth]

signs of the shadow lord are all over noradz even before we see the brand on reece’s face because noradz has anachronistically modern technology such as:

industrial kitchens

glass jars

a system of metal catwalks above the kitchen

gloves that cling to the skin (latex gloves)

conveyor belts

[hellodahliah]

son of the grim reaper: PROLOGUE

previous / beginning / next

loki: why did you let him out? circe: he said he was hungry. we need his needs filled for the next experiment. loki: fine. circe: be nice, loki. *indistinctive chatter* ---- nervous: hmm? *stomach growling* 🐀: *squeaks* ---- loki: let me guess: you saw the rats again? nervous: how do you know? loki: it is not the first time you've seen those rat hallucinations. nervous: no, they were real. i stepped on one of them and felt those small bones being crushed under my foot... i didn't mean to, but he was trying to bite me. loki: i am not interested ---- loki: are you not hungry? nervous: no, i can't deal with them anymore. the rats... i mean. loki: they are not real. nervous: they feel real enough to me! loki: let me show you something. ---- loki: is this real or not? nervous: loki! what are you doing? don't... loki: just answer the question. nervous: uh.... real? Looks real to me! loki: hmm? let's see. nervous: loki! this is not fun. loki: seems like you were right.

[leddlabs]

How about another look in the files while we wait? I've already got Rat's ready.

And as a reminder to employees, keep personal comments off of the officially files please! Or at least not on the front page.

[leddlabs]

You can now listen to all 3 Lab Rats playlists in this convenient Playlist Playlist! Enjoy!

All three of the labrat gifs I made for their playlists <3

oh and this one i guess

[blackrosesandwhump]

Whump Prompt 131

Write something inspired by this scene:

As caretaker rushes into the lab, the sight of whumpee laid out on the table stops them cold.

A large scalpel hovers over whumpee's chest, held in his own shaking hands.

"How--how did you get out of your cell?"

"I picked the lock." The tip of the scalpel lowers slightly, almost scraping his skin.

"You picked the... " caretaker repeats, disbelieving.

The blade lowers further, touching whumpee's bare chest. He leans his head back against the metal surface, face etched with desperation. A bead of blood grows and trickles down his ribs.

"I have to do this. Whumper won't want to experiment on me if I'm ruined."

[catacropolis]

Twisted Wonderland Fear and Hunger AU

Malleus fear and hunger concept designs

for the human/ funger design i had a lot of characters in the same type of outfit so for malleus i wanted to give him a long skirt to break up the designs. bringing the skirt into the design balanced not only the cast but the design as a whole.

on the belt a few sprigs of herbs are tied for easy access.

i wanted malleus to be still recognisable as himself without his horns through his hair and i believe achieved that

Moonscorched malleus

the Lonesome

Born from Malleues’s fear of being alone forever and losing those around him the lonesome is born. Being a dragon his horde of humans will keep him company for eternity absorbing whatever unlucky soul that dares to cross its path. the lonesome lashes out and perceives whoever approaches as a threat. If left alone the lonesome will seek more people to add to its never-ending horde. The lonesome seeks companionship but its very nature repels 

Malleus will become moonscorched on the afternoon of day 2 if you fail to stop an interaction with a non-playable contestant (character not decided at this time). Failing to intervene will result in malleus moonscorching in the orphanage. There the lonesome will lurk the abandoned hallways searching for its next companion. 

The draconic nature of his moonscorched form correlates with his draconic fae heritage in twst. His moonscorched form stands upon a horde of bodies like a pile of gold. The faces of those he's obsorbed are displayed on his body. For this design, i wanted to invoke a sense of an almost eldritch horror. Trying to capture the feeling and style of fear and hunger while also making the design my own and incorporating elements of twst is the challenge of these concept sketches

His moonscorched form would be one that most would avoid occurring because of how powerful and difficult it is. he isn't one to underestimate and neither should his moonscorched form. His fight however wouldnt be impossible to beat just really difficult. 

want to know more ?

Au explanation !!

[letteredlettered]

We’d all like the rest of your butterfly facts, please.

I have SO MANY; I'm not even sure how to share them all.

Butterflies and moths are not taxonomic or cladistic groups; they're colloquial terms to refer to lepidoptera (the taxonomic order butterflies and moths belong to) that have different characteristics and behaviors. That said:

Moths tend to be nocturnal

Moths tend to have fuzzy bodies, butterflies are sleek

Moths tend to have fuzzy antennae, butterflies just have straight plain ones

The additional fuzz on months allows them to sense what's around them, which is helpful because they're not seeing as much because they're nocturnal

Moths tend to build chrysalises with silk but also leaves and mud, etc. These are known as cocoons. Butterflies only use silk and don't have cocoons (either are known as chrysalis)

The Atlas Moth has the biggest wingspan of any lepidoptera

The Atlas Moth usually emerges from its cocoon without a mouth. It can only breed and die

The Atlas Moth caterpillar lives for months. It's generally in the cocoon for months! But it only lives as an adult moth for a few days (because it can't even eat!)

Inside their chrysalises, caterpillars don't just grow wings and longer legs. They liquify completely and reform.

Caterpillars have six legs called "true legs" that mirror the six legs butterflies have. Then they have additional nubs farther down their bodies that help them move around.

Butterflies taste with their feet. If they land on you, they're tasting you!

Butterflies can only eat liquid. They primarily eat nectar and juice from fruit. Rotten fruit is easier for them because rotten fruit is juicy.

The butterfly mouth is called a proboscis. It curls up when not in use and uncurls when the butterfly eats. It's like a straw.

The word "proboscis" can sometimes refer (as a joke!) to nose, but butterflies can't smell with their proboscis. They smell with their antennae!

Like many insects, butterflies have faceted eyes. But unlike the movies, they probably don't see the same image over and over, because their vision isn't refined enough for that. What faceted eyes allow them to see are big patches of color, which is useful considering they eat fruit and flowers. If you want a butterfly to land on you, wear something colorful.

Butterflies don't have lungs. Like most insects, they breathe through holes in their bodies called spiracles.

Incidentally, this is why insects are so small. If they were giant, these holes would have to be bigger or there would have to be many more of them, and that would mean their exoskeleton was not stable!

Oh, yeah, butterflies do not have bones. Like all insects, they have an exoskeleton.

Butterflies do not have blood. Like all insects, they had a fluid that moves most nutrients through their bodies. It's called hemalymph. It carries hormones, nutrients, and waste. It's blue!

Male butterflies tend to be smaller and more colorful than female butterflies. This is the same style of sexual dimorphism present in most insects. Also in birds!

Male monarch butterflies have distinctive dark spots on the lower wings that female monarch butterflies don't have. The spots are scent glands that help them attract mates.

Most butterflies migrate. Like birds.

Monarch butterflies in North America east of the Rocky Mountains have one of the most impressive migration patterns of any animal. They may travel up to 3,000 miles from Canada to Mexico, but what is most spectacular about it is that almost all of them end up in just a few spots relatively close together on some mountain peaks in Central Mexico. The monarchs are so dense that you can't see the trees.

Butterflies are great for studying evolutionary adaptations in coloration and appearance because they are so striking. Camouflage is the adaptation present when an animal blends in with its surroundings. Mimicry is the adaptation that makes an animal look like a different animal.

The owl butterfly is a great example of mimicry because it has two big owl eyes on its wings. The Atlas moth wing tips look like snake heads.

"Batesian mimicry" is named after Henry Walter Bates, who studied mimicry in butterflies. Batesian mimicry means that one species who is harmless looks like another species that is not harmless. Mullerian mimicry is when several species that are harmful all look like each other, so the warning to predators is stronger. Butterflies have great examples of both types of mimicry.

Monarch butterflies and viceroy butterflies were once thought to exhibit Batesian mimicry, because it was thought that vicroys weren't toxic, but it turns out both butterflies are poisonous and so the species have evolved to mimic each other in an example of Mullerian mimicry.

Monarch butterflies are poisonous because the milkweed caterpillars eat is poisonous

The best way to attract butterflies is to grow native plants.