#syringe mention

[melanodis]

puking wanting so badly to write about dave finding henry after he killed himself. throwing those sunglasses on the ground. memento mori means nothing to me. til we meet again, I will stop at nothing. the splitting pain in william's chest at the realization that he caused all of this, that he's the reason henry felt the need to do... this. it's tearing him apart from the inside out, because henry is god himself to him. and what exactly can kill a god? only their own hand. and by william's hand, he will live again. in goes the remnant, a syringe to his neck, "a specimen other than myself for a change". choking up, clawing himself free from the cold abyss, from the brink of death that would've otherwise claimed him eternally. they never tell you how cold it is when you die.

a decision that permanently altered the course of time.

[heroesbrine]

forcemasc :)))

syringes :((((

[whumpshaped]

thinking abt this again bc i agree but my it/its characters r usually whumpees and dehumanised bc theyre self inserts- but it/its whumpers r so hot i need to do smth

tw syringe (doesn't get used), creepy/intimate whumper, noncon kiss on the cheek

"Whumpee..."

Whumper walked along the abandoned corridors, its multiple shadows blinking in and out of existence in sync with the many flickering overhead lights. Its steps were light and unequal, a step here, stop, a step there, pausing to look into yet another empty room, and then another two steps in quick succession.

"Whumpee, come out now."

It heard the pattering of feet behind its back, and thought it'd indulge them; it gave no sign of noticing, carrying on at its own leisurely pace.

"You know I like games, but this is dragging on a little too long. Why don't you come out and we can start anew, with something other than hide and seek?"

The sounds drew closer and closer, and Whumper could barely contain its excitement. Just a little more. Just within arm's reach.

The thrill was unlike anything else. Most likely, Whumpee had some sort of weapon they'd planned on killing it with. Letting them so close was just a game of reflexes, to see if it could turn around fast enough before Whumpee struck.

Whumpee could've had a longer weapon. A pole. A bat. Something they could strike with before Whumper had a chance to stop them. But that was part of the game, the unpredictable element, the risk factor, the fun of it. Whumper felt its whole body tingle with anticipation.

Step. Step. Pause. Step. Now.

It whirled around and grabbed Whumpee's raised arm by the wrist, kneeing them in the stomach hard enough to make them drop the syringe. Whumper kicked it away, the glass clinking loudly against the tiles. Whumpee still tried to fight back, but at this point, without that pitiful excuse for a weapon, they were useless. Whumper was soon on top of them, straddling their waist and holding their wrists above their head with one hand as the other trailed down the line of their throat.

"I won," it exclaimed cheerily, relishing Whumpee's broken little cries. So helpless. So vulnerable.

"This isn't a fucking game!" they screamed, making it laugh.

"Oh, but it is!" It leaned down to press a kiss to their cheek, whispering in their ear. "Otherwise, why would I be having so much fun?"

~

@ashh-ed @whumpsday @whump-queen @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland

[genderqueerdykes]

Thank you thank you thank you for adding a “needles tw” tag on your info sheet post from a few days ago. It can be very difficult being on tumblr sometimes because I get jump scared by my needle phobia at least once a week since not many people remember to warn about them. Since you’re the op, now every reblog will have the blacklist warning for me, meaning I’ll be warned even if someone reblogs and doesn’t trigger tag it. Since what little I saw of the post seems useful I’m assuming it will spread a decent amount, so that warning is very helpful to me! I hope your pillow is always the correct temperature and your food has the correct amount of spices <3

hi there!

of course, i try very hard to do that because certain lifestyles involve seeing and using a lot of them, but a lot of people need to not see that kind of stuff. and yes, i've been taking advantage of tagging on the OP so that it always flags it every time. sometimes tumblr works and i appreciate it. ive met plenty of people who can't be around them for one reason or another

take care! glad that helps you! appreciate your kind words!

[windswept-ocs]

hey bone mace!! whats your opinion on blackrock workers & researchers? asking for a friend (pulse railgun)

-> The large Blackrockian leader looks at you over his glasses, an odd skull mask adorning his face as well. You were clearly interrupting him. "Ugh. Fine. I'll humor you..." "First off, Hyperlaser. He's a quiet man and doesn't get in my way. Obedient and always ready to take orders. He's like a dog really, but a blind one with chronic pain that makes him useless at times." "The Toxitwins, Ammonia and Cyanide, are tolerable at best. I would prefer they stop bothering me with their nonsense. But they're sensible workers, I suppose. My daughter did excellent work raising them." "Galactic Blaster is one of the better workers. A trusted mercenary that I've sent out on countless missions. I guess I do like him more than the rest, but that gets him nothing special. Soldiers like Plasma Rifle and Cross Sight are basic soldiers, I have no opinions on them." "The Biografts are my favorite. They don't bother me, they do exactly as they're told. Solid soldiers and perfect defense mechanisms." "And Subspace... The annoying brat who created them. I can't stand him, but he's got a high rank simply for his accomplishments. I'd prefer he never spoke again. His voice irritates me. I also can't say I care too much for what happened to him between him and that traitor as well. His injury isn't my concern, clearly he's still well enough to work." "Syringe WAS useful before his own injury which led to him being discharged. Now he's just another loose end I must collect at some point."

[mytraumacore]

It’s going to hurt. You’re going to cry.

Your parents are doing this to you.

They’re going to laugh at you.

[wrenches-and-wires]

Oh I know him! He's a real nice guy! A little anxious tho.... - @simply-windy

"Yeah!! He was telling me how Syringe helped them around Crossroads! He sounds nice from what I was told."

"I haven't been much outside Blackrock, so Syringe was really helpful."

"Oh!! He also mentioned that the Syringe guy was from Blackrock too!!"

[dreamsofalifeold]

They made it, thank Pan or whomever was up there that they had made it. Em let out a ragged breath, body visibly shaking as he watched the doctor and her helpers prep Montrose, administer an IV drip, even intubate him. It was, quite frankly, a traumatic and confusing sight, but it was made better by knowing that it at least meant he had a fighting chance.

"Here, I..." Shakily, Em handed Spoker the third syringe, which she took with a nod. "He'll need that in about fifteen minutes. I figure you're better equipped to handle this, than myself...."

"You done good so far. Not too bad for someone who gets so squeamish around this stuff." Spoker offered the ghost of a smile, not quite comfortable enough yet to joke around. At least not until she had her patient stable.

dreamsofalife​:

As soon as it was safe to move, Emerich held a second syringe in his hand, priming it for use. He wasn’t well versed in medicine, but he knew the slightest bit from basic first aid training he’d been given during his orientation, and soon the needle went into Montrose’s exposed arm, the plunger down until it depleted. Em let out a breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding.

“There’s…There’s another one, I’ll have to give it to him in another twenty minutes…”

Spoker already had her items ready; a heart monitor and a ventilator that had been intended for the trash but that Stimpson had fixed spectacularly, activated charcoal, and anything else she might need to help the poor thing return to the land of the living. As always, Gary was at her side taking orders and running directions to and fro, waiting for their patient to arrive.

Grace came sprinting back to the office, skidding to a stop before she could knock over poor Gary. “Oh, sorry Gare! Ann! They’re on the way. He’s been given an anti-drug to buy them some time. They’ll be here any second,” she explained before moving hurriedly to her station. She was tasked with helping monitor and make the young man as comfortable as they could given the situation.

Lindon watched, a bit amazed with how something like this worked. Sure it was a rollercoaster on Montrose’s body, but he stirred more than he had been before, though whatever he was trying to say in his stupor still came out as incoherent nonsense. Hopefully the next time he started to fall again he wouldn’t fall as deep…

Quickly he got to his feet and hurried on towards Spoker’s office. They showed up roughly a minute or so after Grace. Lindon laid Montrose down on the bed, the latter giving a small groan.

[stout-stoat]

lol im getting to the point in taking testosterone where band-aids from injections stick to the hair on my stomach rather than my skin. like where tf do you think youre going sir

[gophergal]

He's just a little overprotective, is all

[earthmoonz]

WIFEY. | EPISODE TEN (10.7) [ACT TWO]

start / previous / next

[MAX’S PHONE BUZZES INCESSANTLY, THEY FIRE OFF A QUICK TEXT]

(MAX): Ur right. I changed my mind. Going back to my sm’s x

[*]

(LILY): I must say Max - May I call you Max? I’m not quite sure why you’re here…Is this regarding my niece?

(MAX): No.

(LILY): Right. Well I’m a very busy woman so-

(MAX): [low] I want the truth.

(LILY): Sorry?

(MAX): You heard me. You know what you’ve done. You know who I am. So tell me the truth.

(LILY): …Why? I don’t mean to be cruel but what did you hope to gain from this? It changes nothing. From what I understand, you have friends, family…a university degree. You have achieved so much in the absence of your mother. Why would you risk everything you hold dear for what could only bring you grief?

[Max swallows deeply. They remain silent, holding Lily’s penetrating gaze.]

[Aish outside]

(LILY): [Muffled] Your mother killed herself Max. She did. She bit the hand that fed her and rather than face the consequences she chose a cowardly end. It didn’t matter that she had a family, because she didn’t choose you. She chose death and she didn’t care enough to leave a note.

[This sends Max into a white-hot rage. Before they know it, they’re launching themselves at Lily. They don’t hear the door open and they barely have time to process them the familiar arms around them before they feel a sharp scratch as their consciousness fades]

(LILY): Very good, Mx. Desai. Perhaps you’re not completely useless after all. I trust you’ll handle this?

(AISH): [Breathless, scared] Mmhm. I- uh. Yeah.

(LILY): Good.

[can-of-woerms]

i don't think this is normal behavior.,,, (close ups under the cut)

[shevr]

im scheduled to attempt to do a self injection on monday anybody got tips

[blackrosesandwhump]

Febuwhump Day 21: Unresponsive

CW: experiment whump, unconsciousness whumpee, creepy whumper, needle mention

It’s happening again.

Whumper sighs in frustration and slaps whumpee’s face, gently at first, then more forcefully a second time. Nothing. Unresponsive, right at the critical juncture in the experiment. Whumper frowns and bends closer, examining his subject. Pale, damp skin. Shallow breathing. Weak pulse through the stethoscope. Not an ideal situation, especially when whumper is so close to success.

“You’re not being very helpful, whumpee.” Whumper steps back from the table, crossing his arms. “I told you to stay awake this time. But did you listen? No.” He pauses, observing whumpee for a moment in intense silence, then springs into action, readying various instruments and a syringe. The bright lights overhead wash out whumpee’s skin completely, making him look dead.

But he isn’t, and he won’t be, not while whumper needs him.

“And now, since you didn’t listen,” whumper says, plunging the syringe into whumpee’s chest, “we have to start the experiment all over again.”

[fallenwhumpee]

Back

• Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Masterlist •

Warnings: Blood, mentioned lab whump, passing out(almost), syringe, depressive thoughts(?).

Leader stumbled as they went to the very small kitchen with dishes in their hands, almost tripping. They couldn't see for a moment, before realising they were basically doubled over the counter. Leader set down the dishes, cursing.

"You're getting old."

Leader turned back, letting out a sigh as they realised it was Right Hand. Right Hand wouldn't panic, unlike Youngest.

"I'm just tired," Leader lied anyway. "Been a long day."

"Leader," Right Hand warned.

Leader took a moment just to… just to look. Right Hand was only three years younger than them, but they looked healthier in general. Movements more fluid, face more vivid. Three years of improvements made a huge difference between Leader and them.

As always, Leader was getting the short stick on everything. But their thoughts weren't born from jealousy. They were just tired, reasonably. They held the counter, trying to stand straight.

"I'm alright," Leader muttered. "Just healing," they forced out, feeling their knees tremble.

Right Hand paced closer, helping Leader down slowly. "Is it the injuries or..?" Right Hand asked, not completing the sentence.

"I'm not sure," Leader grunted, closing their eyes to collect themselves. They coughed, covering their mouth. They quickly hid their blood strained palm.

Leader opened their eyes again, trying to pull themselves together. They wiped their wet hand to their pants, sitting up straight.

"My guess is more on the injury," they added. "But I need time."

Right Hand looked skeptical but accepted the explanation. "You've got a booster?" Right Hand asked after a moment of silence, pulling Leader up.

Leader shook their head, holding Right Hand a little too tight to get a stable stance. "I have a feeling that I'll need it later."

"You and your feelings," Right Hand scoffed. "I'd give you mine but…"

"Don't waste it," Leader breathed deeply, letting go of their grip.

"I restocked." Right Hand stopped a moment to see Leader's reaction. Leader raised an eyebrow, waiting. "Had to visit there to get your blood sample after you went down." Right Hand looked away, ashamed.

"You did what?" Leader almost gasped. They took a breath and gave Right Hand the chance to explain why they returned to their nightmare. "You know I don't like you going there, let alone going all by yourself."

"You're in no position to complain," Right Hand argued, not very confident. It was unusual for them to go from Leader's back, and even more unusual to try to cover it up.

Right Hand sighed. "Just tell me if my one will help."

"It may," Leader didn't push. "If you got any spare and ignore the... ethics."

"We wouldn't be the first to do that," Right Hand gave a small smile.

Leader met the smile with their own.

"And if the boost doesn't work?" Right Hand asked after a short silence, having a second thought. But now Leader wanted to try their luck. The idea sounded good in their head.

"I'll be fine," Leader moved to the living room. "It's a booster, not medicine."

"Leader—" Right Hand began, but Leader cut it.

"I'll be fine. Don't worry."

If it was Medic, Leader would be teased about famous last words. But Medic wasn't around, so Leader had one nice hour before their body slowly shut down. Youngest was asleep by that time, Right Hand not registering half of their own words as they kept babbling about the everyday matters. But they quickly got alerted as Leader collapsed to the armrest.

Right Hand's shot was definitely more potent.

Leader felt drained as their body began to tend to damage faster than it could handle. They tried to reach Right Hand, but they couldn't raise their heavy arm.

"Seems like they changed the formula over time," Right Hand chuckled, clumsily trying to mask their concern. They walked over and shifted Leader to lay on their back.

Leader knew that tone… Leader themselves used it quite often when they were growing up. And it didn't recall nice memories.

"I'm not dying," Leader assured, half joking. They felt like they were taken in for the circulation. It was just as bad as dying... but at least temporary.

Right Hand froze. Leader reached for their hand, trying to stop the possible panic taking over.

Right Hand drew a sharp breath. "Don't. Just don't. I can't handle seeing you like this. I can't—"

"I'll be alright," Leader tried again. "Been through worse. You know it."

"Just… we need you. I need you. To be here just like always," Right Hand whispered, looking away.

Leader didn't like that.

"Those thoughts are dangerous," they warned. "My tomorrow isn't guaranteed, less than yours even."

Right Hand's eyes flashed, the panic finally disappearing. "No one can tell me what to think. That's what you taught me in that hole."

"I know. But I also taught you to not depend on anyone," Leader retorted, the heavy feeling dragging their eyelids down. Winding up Right Hand was the easiest way to get them back to their senses. "You being attached to me is the last thing I want."

"Just shut up and let me look after you."

"You have no bedside manners," Leader whined, the words slurring into each other as they felt the exhaustion finally catch up.

"It's only natural. You babied us too much, and we turned out the opposite."

"Babied," Leader muttered. It was the bare minimum, but they guessed even that could count as coddling in their situation. "I only did what I saw outside."

"Hush now, you'll feel better if you rest."

Leader muttered something incoherent even to themselves, their eyes closing. They didn't think they would feel better soon, but they couldn't think about it. Their thoughts molded into each other as they felt a hand caress their cheek, wrapping something warm around their shoulders.

So tender, so gentle. All the things Leader had found themselves undeserving. But they couldn't find the energy to resist. It felt… nice to let themselves be cared for, for once.

But Leader didn’t like the role reversal in the slightest. They didn't like being out of service or letting their guard down. Restlessly, they tried to open their eyes, but their body betayed them once again, pulling them to a deep sleep.

-•-

So, as a treat(i just couldn't fit this anywhere, and its too short to be posted on its own, so im just releasing into the wild) have two adorable kids.

Warnings: Child abuse, minor whumpee, multiple whumpees, mentioned gun, dehumanisation. All mentioned and off-screen, but still.

"Don't ever let it go. This village wasn't on the plan, so don't get out of the line as we regroup, kid," a private demanded.

"Yessir." Leader grabbed 01 from their hood. The child squeaked, giving a big smile. Leader couldn't smile back, not when they were beaten out of if, but they moved and took the other's hand. It was a gesture they had seen the outside people did when they were all smiley.

Would Leader get a warning for it?

Leader realised they didn't care it as much as before. Normally, even the thought would have them on the edge, trembling and ready to but. It hadn't been the case ever since Right Hand was brought in. So tiny and innocent, unaware of what will happen.

Leader would bite and snarl if anything happened to them, and maybe if they were strong enough, they could outright attack. If only they were strong enough and the thought of it hurt their skull less.

But Scientist promised they wouldn't touch Right Hand as long as Leader did what Scientist said. And Leader wanted to trust the only person they had known ever since they knew themselves.

The private just left, not even looking back. Leader was beginning to worry too much. It was not good. Paranoia wasn't going to help them at all. In or our of the field.

"0, can we go? I saw something!" The child pulled Leader towards a farm. Leader sighed - the way the staff did when things didn't work as they wanted - but let the child drag him.

"Just don't let my hand go, and we're good."

The child dragged Leader as Leader looked around, alert for anything that may come.

They stopped before a small place circled with wires. There were... bunnies in it. Leader blinked, seeing the chubby things do silly moves. The ones back home weren't even able to lift themselves from the ground of their cage.

"Leader, they are so cute. Can we take one home?"

Leader looked around with panic if anyone heard. "Dont use my name. That's for... only for two of us. Out secret. You should be careful."

"Sorry." The child's face fell.

Leader sighed. Why did this hurt their heart?

Leader knelt, getting to the child's eye level. "Right Hand..." they began, taking a deep breath. Right Hand perked up with Leader calling them with their name. "It's alright. Just don't do that around the others, or they will get mad."

"I don't like them. Why I should care?" Right Hand huffed, moving closer.

"Because I dont want them to hurt you," Leader confessed. Or hurt me, they couldn't say. They didn't mind being punished if it meant Right Hand would be fine, but they would rather avoid it altogether.

"People outside don't hurt each other."

"I know. Our people isnt very nice. But they are our people."

Right Hand lunged forward, sending Leader's mind on alert. But they couldn't move. Right Hand's arms wrapped around Leader's neck, their small and warm body against Leader's thin but solid frame.

Was that a... hug?

Leader didn’t deserve it. They didn't get touched if it wasn't for data. They didn't get kindness if they didn't do good. They did nothing to deserve the warmth.

Leader suddenly felt alarmed. It overrode their thoughts, their arms wrapping around the child protectively.

"Get out of my field!" Someone snarled from behind. Leader tightened their arms around Right Hand, using their own body to shield the child.

Right Hand whimpered and buried their head to Leader's shoulder.

"M-my sibling just wanted t-to see the bunnies, I'm— I'm sorry," Leader muttered, their voice meek. They turned back enough to see the farmer, a stick on their hand. Leader turned fully since it wasn't a gun, still cradling Right Hand in a safe distance.

The farmer looked at Leader, taking in the appearance. Leader couldn't hide the tattoo on the back of their arm, marking them as military property.

"I don't want freaky creatures  in my farm. So go before I come down there."

"Yessir," Leader forced out again before running to the way they came. Right Hand held on tighter, making Leader's neck ache. They let out a whimper, scary.

"Its alright," Leader whispered. "I will protect you. Always."

[dreamsofalifeold]

maskofasoutherngentleman​:

Oh, that’s just what he wanted to hear~

“I’ve given you plenty of chances to talk, my good man. But you keep refusing my generous offers. So now~” he said, a purr in his voice. Probably quicker than the man could register the hand with the knife was suddenly just off to the side of his head. Slowly blood welled up from a cut across his cheek and began dripping. “We’re going to do this the hard way. Feel free to scream all you’d like. No one is going to hear you in here.”

The knife flipped in his hand so it was pointed downward. Then in another swift motion it came down, clean through the back of the man’s left hand, pinning it to the arm of the chair.

Linden jolted with a start. He hadn’t been expecting to escalate that quickly but they hadn’t gotten anything out of his so far. They needed to show how serious Montrose was about seeing through lies.

He froze, eyes locked on his pinned hand, twitching as he tried to scream. No sound came out; he was bleeding, exhausted, but the adrenaline had spiked back up again. Gasping and shuddering, he tried desperately to move enough to free his other hand and remove the knife, but it was no use; he was pinned like a butterfly, and there was no escape.

Shy let out a small shriek, hand moving over her mouth to stifle it. “Montrose! What the fuck, stop!” Without really thinking about it, she moved to the wounded man, pressing a handkerchief to the area where the knife was. Like removing a syringe from an IV, she took the blade from his hand, leaving the cloth to soak up the blood as he let out an anguished cry.

“I...I think we should take a brief recess.” Emerich had gone pale as a dead fish, looking ill at the sight. He could handle blood, even some torture, but this was sick. Montrose looked delighted to have hurt someone so badly, and the sight was haunting.