#they do not like being on the other side of lab whump!

[befuddled-calico-whump]

I want to treat the Interrogator like a kitten. They're my sad little meow meow

they are a sad little meow meow tbh

[whumpy-wyrms]

The Last Lab Rat CYOA #8

TLLR AU masterlist | TLLR masterlist

content: whumpee pov, lab whump, failed escape attempt, sprained ankle, scientist carewhumper

You chose: Attempt to run past him and out the door when he walks in.

— 

Fuck it. The second he opens the door and walks inside, you take the chance to run out of there while you have the chance.

“Hey!” He exclaims, caught off guard, as he sees you running towards him.

…Only, you don’t get very far.

You cry out in pain as you suddenly fall forward and straight into him. He scrambles to catch you, almost dropping whatever he’s holding in his hands as he wraps his arms around you. Your ankle throbs as a horrible stabbing pain sours through your body. You suck in a breath through clenched teeth and hold on tight to his sweater, desperately trying to hold yourself up and not put any more pressure on your ankle.

“What are you doing?” He hisses, but he sounds more worried than anything. He slowly inches you both deeper inside the room and away from the door.

You don’t know what to say, so you say nothing. He lets you wiggle out of his grip and you stumble backwards, landing roughly on the floor. Another burst of sharp pain flows through you as you quickly scramble away until your back hits the wall. He shuts the door, the sound of the lock clicking echoes through the room, and you slump down in defeat.

“You really shouldn’t do that,” he says darkly, voice suddenly sounding much more serious than before. It sends a violent shiver down your spine and you hug your knees to your chest. “I’m not letting you go.”

“Why?” You whimper, failing to stifle a sob. It hurts.

“I said I’d explain everything soon, didn’t I? Just be patient.” Sensing your terror, he sighs and softens his voice. “Calm down. I’m not going to hurt you.”

You swallow thickly, closing your eyes and attempting to calm your racing heart. That was obviously a horrible idea. You can barely walk, there’s no way you would’ve gotten past him in this state. Besides, you couldn’t run from him back in the streets, how could you do it here? You realize that attempting to escape while he’s near you never seems to end well.

You look up at him and notice he has an ice pack and bandages in hands, as well as… something else. It’s some kind of vial filled with a strange looking liquid. It’s bright green and almost looks like it’s glowing. He sets it to the side for now, but you eye it warily. Your attention is brought back to Anton when he kneels down in front of you.

He stares at you for a moment before turning away, looking for something under the bed. Your eyes go wide as he pulls out a long chain that’s attached to one of the bed legs and he shuffles closer towards you.

“Gimme your leg. This is just for precaution. I don’t want you trying to run away from me here.”

He senses your panic, but before you can say anything, he grabs your leg and clamps the chain around your good ankle, effectively restraining you. Once he lets go, you pull your leg back fearfully and curl up into a ball. You glare at him as he moves closer.

His expression softens and he holds up the ice pack he has in his hands and gestures towards you. “I have ice,” he says, “for your ankle.”

You hesitate before timidly holding your other leg out. You have no other choice at this point, and your ankle hurts. You suck in a shuddering breath as he takes hold of your ankle and begins cooling it with ice. It hurts at first but after a few moments, it starts to feel nice. You start to relax once you realize he’s not actually hurting you.

“Why did you do that?” He asks. “I told you to stay put. And you wouldn’t have gotten very far even if you weren’t hurt.” 

“You kidnapped me.”

He frowns. “…I get you must be scared, but you don’t have to be. I really don’t want to hurt you.”

You say nothing in response and Anton begins wrapping up your ankle in elastic bandages. He works quickly but gently, as if he’s being careful to not hurt you. Once your ankle is wrapped up, he hands you the ice pack and you start pressing it to your ankle again. It still hurts, but at least it’s being taken care of now.

“I wouldn’t walk on it much if I were you. I’m sure you understand why.”

You nod. He smiles, satisfied, and stands up. Grabbing that vial of liquid, he pops off the cork and holds it out to you. “Drink this. It’ll help your ankle heal.”

You scrunch your eyebrows together, confused. “…What is it?” you ask apprehensively.

“It’s… like medicine. It’s safe, I promise. It’ll help with the pain.”

At least it’s not a needle being stabbed into your skin against your will. But still, it makes sense to be wary about this. Drinking something from the guy who’d just drugged, kidnapped and restrained you doesn’t seem like such a good idea. You still don’t know what he wants with you. On the other hand, you’d do anything for the pain to stop at this point. It hurts.

next

— 

this is genuinely so fun guys i love these daily updates i’m having a lot of fun :3 thank u all for reading!!

taglist: @creppersfunpalooza @whumpsday @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @inkwell-and-dagger @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl

@vidawhump @bottlecapreader @whumpinthepot @lumpywhump @paperprinxe

@indigoisaspookyghost2 @lumpofsand @whump-till-ya-jump @inhurtandincomfort @echo-of-umbra

@sariadragon

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

[aussiepineapple1st]

Hello, hope you don't mind if I make a request! 😃

What about something like this? I've always loved the idea of Leon being nearly killed by the removal of the plaga. What if reader manages to remove the plagas from Leon but the process is too much for him and leaves him practically dead and reader is horrified and panicking and feeling like she killed him. Just an idea! 💕

I do love this idea as well! Thank you for suggesting it! I was thinking of doing something with the removal of the Plaga eventually.🥰😈

Plaga Removal

Leon x F!Reader

Words: 1,551 Contains: Plaga infected Leon, Ashley and Reader, Angst, Whump, Death?

You break free from the control of Saddler as he's shot from someone above you. Falling to your knees you look up seeing Ada with her SMG.

"GO!" She shouts down to you and Leon. You scramble to your feet, rushing to Leon's side. Yes you had the Plaga in you as well, But you had only recently been infected, your own progression with the parasite wasn't as far as Leon or Ashley.

Leon pulls himself to his feet with your help and the stone table Ashley was laying on. Scooping her into his arms you help keep him on his feet while you exit through a doorway. The way being closed with the help of Ada shooting free a statue that falls, blocking the entrance. Both of you fall to the ground, Leon making sure Ashley's head doesn't hit the ground. You groan as you sit up, everything ached. The veins covering your entire body as you examine your arms. You see Leon roll off Ashley, laying on his back. Neither of them were looking very good.

"Leon?" You crawl to kneel beside him. He was staring up at the ceiling, his vision swimming with water above him, around him stood shadowy figures of people. "Leon! Come back to me!" You say gently placing your hand on his cheek.

Your voice pulls him from the trance, everything flashing back to reality as he sees you leaning over him. He finally looks into your eyes rather than past you, his hand reaching up to touch yours. "I'm here." He assured, his eyes closing as he groans in pain.

"We have to get these things out of us, Now!" You say pulling Leon's arm to sit him up. Pulling Ashley's arms you spin in just a way to bring her to lay on your back. "Hup"ing as you stand you your feet, your hands holding under the young girl's thighs.

"Can you stand?" You ask your partner still sitting on his butt. There was no answer. "Leon!" You call his name once more, giving his boot a tap with your own as you adjust Ashley on your back.

"Y.. Yeah, I can stand." He says rolling to his knees, pulling one leg up and pushes on his knee to stand. He steps back, loosing balance, but you keep him on his feet by planting the top of your head in the centre of his shoulder blades. "I'm good.." He assures now getting his balance.

"Good.." You answer walking towards the a long hallway. Your own vision flashes to this other reality, shaking your head to try and come back. Hearing the sound of a body hitting the floor you turn around seeing Leon laying on his front. You look towards the doors ahead of you then back to Leon. You had to get both of them to the lab, but you couldn't help Leon when you had Ashley on your back. "I'll be back for you. Just... Stay awake!" You say turning and walking as fast as you could towards the double doors.

Unlocking the door with the key Leon had entrusted to you, you push it open, stumbling down the stairs and into the lab. Seeing a chair on the other side of the room you sit Ashley on it, walking to the computer and turning on the machine.

"Where's Leon?" Says a weak voice behind you.

You turn to look at her and give her a fake smile. "He's going to be fine, I will fetch him after we get this thing out of you."

Ashley nods and is moved into position. You look to the doors hoping you could see Leon, but it was too dark, all you saw was a void beyond the doors. "You ready?" You ask as you prepare the computer. Waiting until Ashley nods, you then press the 'Enter' button and she is instantly zapped. The three prongs above her doing their job.

Ashley cries out in pain as you kneel beside her, grabbing her hand that grasps the rod tight. "You've got this! Almost done!" You say looking back as the computer blinks a green Successful. Sighing, you see the black veins star to leave her fair skin, small groans leaving her assures you she is alright. Gently puling her into your body, you manoeuvre the young lady to lay on the ground to the side.

Nodding to yourself you hurry out into the hall where you had left Leon, who had now propped himself up against the wall. Head leant back on the stone he was leaning on, arms by his side as he pants heavily, eyes closed. You kneel beside him and place a hand on his chest. Your own way of asking him to wake up.

"I'm awake.." He huffs out, eyes opening in a wince. "Did it work? Is she okay?" He asks. He heard her shouts of pain but your smile and nod to his question makes him relax.

"Yeah, she's okay. Now it's your turn.." You lift his arm over your shoulder and wait for him to help you pull him to his feet. You hold around his waist and the wrist of his hand slung around your shoulder. "Easy does it." You encourage.

A few steps into the lab and Leon's legs give way. Ashely now on her feet rushes over to the both of you. She lifts his other arm around her shoulders and helps you carry him to the chair.

"Thanks Ash." You say giving her a small nod and a smile. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel fine. Much better than before. But is Leon going to be okay?" She holds her hands in front of her chest, worried eyes looking over Leon's exhausted, black veined face.

"If you are okay, then he should be too." You assure. Though you were really hoping you could assure yourself, he was in a much worse state than Ashely had been. Whatever Saddler had just done to the both of you really hurt Leon.

You move to the computer and motion for Ashley to stand back before you press the same button as before. The three prongs zapping at Leon's chest. His body arching up as he grits his teeth. Once again you move to hold his hand, Ashley taking his other. Expecting him to writhe in pain until the computer flashed successful, your heart drops when he goes still mid procedure.

Standing to your feet your eyes widen as you look back to the screen, you could still see the Plaga being disintegrated, so why was he not moving? Your eyes start to prick with tears as you look back to Leon, hearing the computer ding you quickly look back to see it read the green 'Successful'.

"Leon?" You panic, standing in front of him, slightly leaning over his body. "Leon!" You call his name once again, your hand resting on his chest. Nothing, you choke out a sob as you brush his fringe from his face. Sweat on his skin causing his hair to stick to his forrid, but you make sure to brush every strand away. "Baby..? Hey, answer me!" You plead as you press your fingers under his jawline. There was a pulse, but it was weak.

You wrap your arms under his and hoist him towards you, pulling his limp body from the chair. You slip and fall to the ground, landing against a cabinet with a loud bang, but you didn't mind. Tears were now falling from your eyes as you hold Leon in your arms, his right hip on the ground as his right cheek rest on your chest. "Leon Please! Stay with me!" You cry out as you turn him to lay on his back between your legs.

You cry as you hold his head in the crook of your arm, your hand resting on his chest as all you wanted was for him to wake up, to let you know he was alright. "Please. I can't do this without you." You sob into the top of his head.

Ashley watched, tears streaming from her own eyes as she sits on her knees at Leon's feet. She thought he was dead. "You should have done him first." She sobbed to you.

Shaking your head you look over to Ashley. "No.. You are more important. This would have happened if he was first or n-" You stop instantly as you feel a hand rest on yours placed on his chest.

You look down to see Leon's eyes open, looking up at you. "Hey.. What's with the tears? You can't get rid of me that easy." He croaked out.

You just stare down at him, your tears flowing even faster now as you hug his head. "I thought I killed you!"

Ashley relaxed and wipes her tears away, a smile now coming to her lips as she watched Leon's arms reach up to comfort you, gently patting your arm and shoulder. "Okay.." He responds. You pull back and wipe your face free of tears, spit and snot as you try calming yourself down.

"Your turn." Leon smiled up at you. You nod and he gently placed a hand on the back of your neck to pull you into a tender kiss.

🏷️: @phoenix666stuff @maehemthemisfit @greywardensaywhat @growingupnrealizing @starcrossedreaders

[whumpsday]

Whumpmas in July #7

Post a link to your favorite whump fic of all time!

so once again, i want to avoid saying the same thing i've said in previous years, and i've already talked about a lot of my favorite whump fics for WIJ before since this same prompt was used last year!

here is my post from last year, with a bunch of my favorite whump fics of all time. those fics include:

Dollhouse by @sowhumpshaped

Hazeshift by @whumpwillow

Magnanimous Moonrise & Savage Sunset by @not-a-space-alien

Of Vampires and Men by @whumpy-writings

Riot Kings by @befuddled-calico-whump

The Dark Side of the Sun by @quietly-by-myself

The Monster of Lindborough by @secretwhumplair

Things End | People Change by @whumpcloud

Tomas and Rowe by @whumpzone

you can find links to and summaries of those in the post linked above. here's 5 more of my favorite whump fics!

🔥 Bahkauv by @deluxewhump - Three friends traveling to the city stop off at a hunters camp to purchase a vampire for one of them to research at the university he will be attending. They purchase something a little different instead. (monster/vampire-adjacent whumpee, rescue/recovery, caretaker new master, burns, torture)

🧙‍♀️ Demon's Haven by @whumpwillow - Summoning demons for requests with a price far less expensive than one’s undying soul is common practice for witches, especially those who practice dark magic. Haven just wants to unlock a grimoire she found with the help of demonic magic, yet she ends up not in a battle of wits and wills but comforting a tortured and traumatized demon. (demon whumpee, rescue/recovery, desperate begging whumpee, accidental whump, caretaking)

💔 Shattered by @oddsconvert - Years of being held captive, under the vampires brutal persusasion has finally broken Declan, shattered his mind. Not living but not quite dead, paralysed in a comatose-like state. Vince decides his once delicious bloodbag has finally reached its end, selling it during it’s final few days. When August sees the advert for the dying human, he knows what he must do. Taking on the responsibility of nursing Declan back to health - though he is woefully unprepared for just how deep and severe the damage is and the hardships that will arise whilst tackling it. (vampire whumper, vampire caretaker, rescue/recovery, caretaker new master, recovery from mind control)

🧟‍♀️ Part of You by @sowhumpshaped - I’ve been thinking about it a lot. About whether I could do it. At the end of the day, there’s really no other alternative. Gena is my responsibility, and I’ll do everything to keep her safe and fed. (undead whumpee, cannibalism, lab whump, gore/dismemberment, tragedy)

⚰️ Another Path (BG3 fanfic) by @asidian - Astarion has spent two hundred years waiting for a hero to come. It isn't the foolish sort of idle dreaming that one reads about in adventure tales, no – he doesn't moon about in picturesque arched windows, pressing his hand to his chest and sighing. But he does hope sometimes, furtive and distantly yearning, in the same way he still prays to gods who never listen, every now and again. (vampire whumpee, rescue/recovery, starvation, caretaking, whumpee x caretaker)

@whumpmasinjuly

[writinggremlin]

Hi!

What's your favorite weapon to use against your Whumpees?

-- @whumporama ❤️🔪

Ooo good question! Though, I usually find it difficult to decide which weapon I should use on my Whumpees whenever it's their turn to be whumped, so I am already predicting that settling even on a top 3 will be difficult.

Let's see though... I don't think you can really go wrong with a blade or knife. They're quite versatile when you think about it. They can slice, cut and stab, yes, but they can also threaten, and even protect. Not to mention that they come in many different forms.

A pocket knife that folds neatly away, being flicked out at the climax right before the violence begins. Or being revealed and pressed against a Whumpee's neck in an alleyway.

A dagger, long and sharp. Whumper lightly trails the point along Whumpee's body, sending shivers down their spine. Maybe even using it to tilt their chin up.

A scalpel, even. A tool of precision, usually used to help save lives, but now it's use is being twisted and bastardized, slowly and methodically slicing through layers of flesh to do god knows what. Or maybe it's not for a surgery. Maybe Whumper sees themself as an "artist" of sorts, and Whumpee is their canvas. A scalpel is like a pencil to them.

Hmm... But I also like drugging too. It's definitely my go-to for lab settings. Maybe I'm a little too reliant on drugs for lab whump lmao. But c'mon-- it's right there!! And it's so versatile-- you don't even have to make it a pre-existing drug, you can make the side effects literally whatever you want!!

Yes you have the typical dizziness, confusion, tiredness, and euphoria of normal drugs, but that's not all injections are capable of. Some drugs burn (propofol does iirc, and I know potassium does too. Potassium is *super* uncomfortable when administered through IV. Best used on a Whumpee who was starved and has a potassium deficiency-- I could write a tip post on that one day), other drugs can cause odd feeling headaches that feel like pressure building up in your head (morphine does that to some people for a second before it kicks in. I am one of those people. It freaked me out the first time around ngl lol), but even that is just the surface of things drugs can do, especially in fiction.

One of my favorite fics I've read on here, Drowning by @equestrianwritingsstuff, features lab whump and a drug that makes the MC experience agonizing pain and panic. Those scenes were so fucking good imo!!! Like-- OUGH!!! Nearly yoinked it for myself, but I've already yoinked a lot from that story, and I don't want to just-- make the same thing again lol. (That's called plagiarism! :D!)

You can incorporate magic to induce a whole slew of fascinating new side effects. Add a hint of fire magic to set every single one of Whumpee's nerves alight with agony. Earth magics could temporarily petrify certain parts, if not all of Whumpee (petrify could just mean paralyze, or it could mean literal petrifaction; turning solid like stone. So solid that parts could snap off), water magics could liquify (imagine that in the lungs. As if pneumonia wasn't bad enough. The damage that literally liquifying a brain could cause too), and as for air magics... just injecting plain air straight into the veins can cause a whole slew of problems-- you don't need magic for that (you could suddenly adjust the atmospheric pressure with magic and make Whumpee suffer more as the air inside them rapidly expands though).

Speaking of magic, that's another fantastic weapon! In a fantasy setting, I feel like magic could be so common and come so naturally that it's almost on par with just-- using your bare hands. But magic is more useful and so versatile and there is so, so much you can do with it!!

Elemental magics are an obvious choice. Just look at Avatar over there. But ofc there's other elements that are fun, like ice, and electricity, and blood... Me and a friend once came up with an idea of someone who could manipulate someone's skeleton. They couldn't manipulate the muscles or their mind, literally just their bones. It'd make resistance painful, pulling and tearing at delicate tendons. The best thing Whumpee could do in that situation is just relax as much as possible, while their body gets helplessly puppeted around (technically they could overpower it too, depending on how much force the power could use ofc).

But there's so many other magic powers too that could easily be weaponized. Mind control abilities, a mind reader that knows all of Whumpee's weak points-- there's a fic I recently binged through, The Gift Of Perfect Knowledge by @internallyscreamingfrootloop, where a kid gets the ability to know the answer of any question he asks, and he's definitely used that to at least utilize the tools at his disposal.

There's even brutal powers that you can use, like super strength, and shape shifting, and blast summoning, which can give a Whumper the ability to just toss Whumpee around like a ragdoll.

But the fun part about magic is that you can make your powers be whatever the fuck you want. Take a look at my OC, Kage, for example. He might be a Whumpee, but he's also done his fair share of brutal, murderous whumping in his past. One of the powers that helps him with that, is a power that I literally just call "Ravens". He can summon ravens, crows, just any corvid really, and he can control them to make them do what he wants. Imagine a massive flock of black, cawing birds descending upon you. Imagine the last thing you see is a beak in your eye. Imagine the dreadful pain of being pecked apart and eaten alive, bit by agonizing bit. You can get brutal with magic, and it doesn't even have to be anything complicated.

Maybe magic will have to win my favorite then lol.

Honorable mentions:

Bludgeoning tools. Bats, canes, even a wall. If I'm feeling especially brutal, I might even think about just filling a bag with heavy weight, swinging it around and WHAM!!! Right into Whumpee. Sometimes a whack isn't enough, y'know?

Unconventional weapons, my beloved. A hefty flashlight, a purse, bottle of perfume or cologne (Whumper discovers that Whumpee has it while kidnapping them, proceeds to use it as an irritant, spraying it in Whumpee's mouth, eyes, and even up their nose. Whumpee can't wear it anymore because the scent reminds them of what happened now), clothes used for strangulation, or even a lack of clothes, a plastic bag for suffocation-- ugh, there's just so much you can do with the random objects you have laying around in your house. Books as bludgeoning weapons. Cards thrown so fast and hard that they cut. God I can keep going all day.

But ye, to answer your question, I think my favorite weapon would have to be magic, just in general. Second favorite would have to be anything unconventional, I like seeing the creativity of it. Mix those two together, and you have my full undivided attention.

Thank you so much for the ask!! This one was fun to talk about!!

My ask box is open and I would love to answer more!! I have plenty of ask games you can find on my ask game masterlist here! (I wanna update that completion tracking format into a tag system for better ease of use tbh. Maybe next year.)

Thank you to all who have read this far, and thank you to whumporama for both their post, and for the ask!! Hope you enjoyed my ramblings lol. Have a nice day/night/life!!! :D

[kuralkara]

Whumperless Whump Event- Day 19

Tending to Injuries/ Domestic hurt-comfort/ “Let’s check the bandages, okay?”

Robots Beloved. Again, torn from a concept for New Blood, Old Sorrows (link to Ao3 will be applied soon. For those of you who don’t want to go to Ao3, here’s the context. Spoilers:

Reader is a non-human/other of unknown/mixed origin who was turned Cybertronian, ends up courting/being courted by Soundwave both before and after. This is after Soundwave manages to get you back onto the ship after fleeing the lab where the transition happened.

You didn’t wake alone, thankfully. 

A face was pressed between your wings; arms holding you snug. Data cables were coiled protectively around more than a few of your limbs, feelers spread out and tracing the mesh wounds even as he slept. 

You didn’t actually know where you were, admittedly. The room did look like something Soundwave would live in, though: a large desk with a work interface and console took up pretty much the entirety of one wall. The wall without the bed pressed up to it was covered in shelves, covered in various data pads and potted plants that thrived in the near pitch black. The rest of the wall where the bed was held more planters; two hanging, another couple larger ones sitting on the floor. Your mind couldn’t find a proper equivalent of plants you were familiar with to place the few you could sit. 

Was that one a succulent ish? Maybe? You didn’t know. You wouldn’t be able to investigate without waking Soundwave up, and going off the grip he had on your armor, that was not happening any time soon.

You couldn’t really bring yourself to mind, though. Your partner of choice was- much like yourself- the type to gladly skip on personal care in favor of efficiency. For better. And worse. Mostly worse in your case, as your nagging frame with too many complaints felt the need to ping you about every couple seconds. Anomalies in sensory suites. System processing errors. Potential neural circuitry malfunctions and defects. Fun things. None of which made sense to you yet.

But for some stupid reason, you couldn’t just flat out ignore them anymore. They flooded your sight and made that stupid little not there sound that kept you awake, even if you wanted to just press yourself lower into the sheets and go back to sleep for the next couple decades. So instead, you shifted a little back. 

Claws lessening their grip slightly was something someone could do while unconscious. What no one could do while unconscious, however, was adjust your body with data cables so that your damaged leg was properly supported still, arms adjusting on your sides as he went. You rolled your head back, reaching a stubbornly heavy arm up. It made contact with a mandible crest, and you gladly pulled him closer. “How long was I out for?” you asked. No static. That had to be a win, right? Maybe? 

Soundwave didn’t answer for a moment, very still under your grip. Then he moved. Out from behind you so that your top was where he was laying, and hovering over you. Sort of caging you between his frame, his limbs, and the bedding. If your body wasn’t screaming fifteen million things at you all at once, you might have assumed the situation to be mildly compromising: between the tentacles and the good two to three meters of height he had to you? 

And then he kind of… slumped. Once he was done examining your face for whatever it was he was looking for, his shoulders drooped, and he bent down to bump his visor against your forehead. “Let me check the bandages?” he eventually asked. You hadn’t known there were bandages. You pushed yourself upright, using his shoulders to steady yourself until you had your (barely) still working leg off the bed, and the bad one still propped up. 

“I don’t see why not,” you managed through grit denta. It hurt. No wonder he didn’t want you moving it. An ache like a bad thumb sprain, but covering your entire right leg, from your ankle to just above your right hip. Bleeding a little into a stabbing sensation the closer it got to your pelvis and low back. 

Soundwave made an odd chirping sound, before shuffling a little further back. The cables were back, feelers barely ghosting the battered metal as he traced knuckles down what you now knew were apparently bandages. They felt more like staples with how they were situated and kept in place. It took a moment to tear your gaze away from him, but when you did, your optics landed immediately back onto the plants. 

One of them was definitely succulent shaped. You thought the proper word for that particular style of succulent was lotus but you weren’t entirely sure. It had a lot of leaves, and they were short and very closely clumped together. Sort of pinched looking at the point; there was a slight dip in the middle of the leaves you could see that reflected the barely there light like there was no tomorrow. Maybe it was a carving. Organic or not, you weren’t sure plants did that.

"How long have you kept plants?" you eventually asked. It was easier than letting your pain consume you.

"Couple millennia," he hummed, not in his voice. You snuck a glance to the black visor. You didn't think you were imagining the ghost outline of yellow-ish optics glancing up at you. "Felt strange not having anything - it fills the space - gives me a - mighty fine distraction - when - the war gets slow."

You thought about that. Deep space would make the war slow; so would, you know, being stuck on a world with a species with wildly mixed reactions to aliens. You supposed you were a testament to that now. "You should tell me about how to care for them," you stated, simple and quiet. "Give me something to do while recovering."

He tilted his helm. The connective feelers of the data cables pulled back as they twitched for a moment, before relaxing and returning to the injuries they were addressing. You forced yourself to not stare at the jagged tears in the metal, or the weeping blue soft metal under the armature. "When I'm done," he answered, just as soft. "I will show you. Not much in variety - but enough - to prevent diseases."

Your lips twitched a smile as he continued talking. You had missed him.

@whumperless-whump-event

[persage]

I WILL FIND YOU - S. HARRINGTON

Summary: Vecna knows he's losing the war, so he makes a trade. He agrees to stop the attacks, and asks for only one thing in return-You. Seven. By keeping you and Eleven apart, he will be safe forever.

In which you are one of the kids from the lab.

(PostS4! Steve Harrington x Reader) Masterlist .

Part 2: Sacrifices

Words Count: 4.3 k

WARNINGS! : Heavy Angst and Whump. Mentions of psychological and physical abuse. If you are sensitive to certain topics please don't read it, i don't wanna trigger you, your mental well-being it's important to me (also take care of yourself <3)

Basically a -way darker- Stranger Things's remake of Tangled and just another Steve Harrington's love story cause I can't stop writing about him.

Vecna knows he's losing the war, there are forces against him, stupid humans trying to survive in every stupid way. But you are exhausted too, you aren't gonna last long and you all know it. Battle after battle, death after death, hope fades and every time you come up with a new plan and arm yourself, or go on a reconnaissance mission to rid the Hawkins streets of demogorgons, you can't help but wonder who'll be the next. You almost lost Will last time. Robin was injured some days ago. Hopper lost his hand trying to save Murray and Murray, he died anyway. You are no longer sure what are dying for, what you are fighting for. After all you've been through, from your escape from the lab, to your arrival in Howkins, to the rediscovery of your dormant powers, nothing seems to make sense anymore, not if you ultimately fail to kill that damned monster. Then you turn to Steve Harrington, asleep exhausted in a corner of the shelter next to Robin, her hand wrapped in his, Steve's body covered with visible bruises and scratches and his expression tense even in his sleep. And suddenly you know that your reason is a boy like many others. And you know it probably won't be enough to keep you both alive: feelings don't save people in this war. They haven't saved Eddie, nor Max or Murray, and maybe they won't save Will, feverish in an unmade bed not far from you.

Creel or 001 or Vecna, whoever that monster is, is weak, tired. It is a war of wait, that goes neither back nor forward. Sometimes 001 thinks that if he just waits he could watch men destroy themselves until they disappear, other times he thinks they don't deserve this concern. But what he can do is taking his time to recover and come back stronger than before, perhaps with a few more allies. He's already got Eddie Munson, now he is ready to take someone much stronger and with his new puppet by his side he will finally win. Humanity will be over. So he makes a trade, he agrees to stop the attacks and asks for only one thing in return: he wants the only person that can actually destroy him, someone with powers too similar to his own. He asks for you y/n l/n, Seven, the one who ran away from him. He knows that when you and Eleven'll find the right way to combine your powers, then there will be no escape for him, that you could hold the balance of power in this fight. So one day he makes his proposal to you, in a low and frightening voice. He's in your head, a dark echo that portends the worst.

"If you come with me your friends will be safe." He ramains silent for a while as you let yourself fall to the bathroom floor, your hands clasped on your knees. "You're lying." You whisper, hoping no one hears you. "You have a chance to stop this, Seven you really want to waste it?" He asks, while he lets the faces of all the people who have died or who could do so scroll through your mind. Eddie covered in blood, Hopper holding his missing hand, Murray being devoured by a Demogorgons, Joyce holding Will in her arms and Eleven exhausted to the limit. Steve covered in bruises and blood. Max, still comatose in the hospital. Lucas, Mike, Nancy. All of them. You can save them, maybe. You just have to make the boldest choice: trust the devil. You shake your head, afraid. "It's a trap"

"I don't set traps, Seven, I give freedom to people. Let me save you too." You put your hands to your ears, even if it is useless, to chase his voice away. "Let me save them"

"I know how you save people, I won't let you do that again."

"This time, I could let them go ... Just come with me. You don't want me to kill Steve, do you Seven?" And it's time it breaks you, the image of Steve Harrington's cold, motionless body facing you, eyes closed, lips firmly folded into an eternal aching expression, the bluish color of the bruises mingles with the pallor of his skin and you call him, desperate, and you shake him and he doesn't react. He is a soulless shell. He is dead and you don't realize you've started screaming loudly.

*

"It's not gonna happen." Steve has his hands closed in two fists resting on his hips and shakes his head repeatedly, that's the only thing he can do: say no, try to prevent this madness. The worst thing is that no one else is as convinced as he is, he sees a timid hope in their eyes, the vague hint of assent and that's enough to drive him out of his mind. Is he really the only one he cares about your well being?

"Steve .." You whisper, approaching him as he walks away, pacing back and forth through the small room. If he stops he gets the impression that he might collapse, he's already risked losing Robin, he can't let anything happen to you. He wouldn't forgive himself and he honestly doesn't care that you're a badass superhero with superpowers. Fuck superpowers, protecting you is his job, it has been since you showed up at his house after Billy's beating and his amazing walk in the tunnels with the kids. You, who had literally just closed an immense portal to a scary world and wore the signs of weariness and fatigue on your face, had showed up at his door to check if he was okay.

"I knew you would be alone, it's not safe."

"I'm fine y/n, seriously"

"I'm not saying you're not fine Harrington, I'm saying I don't want you alone."

"No, no! We can't allow it, we know it's a lie. Vecna'll kill her" Steve looks for Hopper, Joyce, someone to listen to him. Hopper sighs and looks at you with regret. After all this time you've become a daughter to him, but the whole world is paying a very high price for this war and he knows that maybe taking some time could be a solution. "It's a possibility, of course" He confirms. "A dangerous possibility though." Lucas steps in, approaching to hug you. "He's weak," Will whispers, drawing your attention. He is pale, half hidden under the covers to save himself from the cold and fever. "I can hear him. Maybe he's not lying." Joyce looks at you hopefully. "He could break the bond with Will so we don't have to ... I mean, hurt him too. And we'll buy some time." They don't need to convince you, you've already made your decision, you just want them to know what to do. "We can't beat him without you." Dustin whispers. "Eleven can and I will take time until she's strong enough to do it on her own." You reply, turning to El. Once again it is Steve who objects. "He will get stronger too in the meantime. Do you realize that it doesn't make sense? It's a suicidal plan." He shouts, approaching you and gently grabbing your shoulders, shaking you.

"Steve, Steve please try to understand" You put your hand on his cheek and caress him softly, for all the times you've refrained from doing it, for all the years you've repressed and hidden your feelings. You let yourself get carried away by his warm and soft skin under your fingertips, the slight hint of beard, the creases around the lips and the scars under the flesh. "You have already decided" His voice is a murmur and it breaks, shattered like glass, his gaze becomes lucid and his grip grows stronger as if to hold you back. "Stay here." And God only knows how hard it is for you to step back, move away from him. Everything around you is still, you don't see anyone else, you don't hear their voices anymore. Steve Harrington is all that matters to you now. "I won't change my mind. It's our only option."

"That's not true, we have other solutions. We can keep fighting." He insists, trying to get close to you again. He is suffering, you recognize the slight shaking in his right hand as he tries to hide it behind, typical of when he is nervous or stressed and the way his lower lip protrudes slightly, like he is about to cry. He keeps silently begging you and is still aware that he is helpless. "No, but it is the only one who will perhaps allow you to live."

"I won't let you" This time he takes a firm step and hugs you tightly. "You can't. I won't let you do it"

"I know Steve, I know" With your face pressed against his chest you inhale his perfume and hide the tears. " Forgive me" You place one hand on his chest and one on his head and use your powers to make him collapse to the ground, unconscious. Holding back a sob and more tears, you manage to hold him close to you so that he doesn't collapse as Hopper helps you to lay him down, his clear eyes serious and worried. "You don't have to do it kid" You hold Jim's hand and don't reply.

In the darkness of the night Vecna collects what is due to him. You walk slowly, his long hand extended towards you. "Welcome home, Seven." With a quick gesture, he spells your memories away, slowly you feel everything you are and know slipping away from you, like words are erased from a sheet of paper as it becomes white again. You didn't know he could do it, none of you did. You feel stupid for getting caught so easily, you try to fight it, to keep something of you but it's not a power you know, you can't manage it. All you can do is concentrate: hide something in the back of your mind, memories in memories, hoping that one day you will be able to unlock them.

"You're the closest thing to a sister I've ever had." Max confesses to you, hugging you, sitting on the sofa in his house. Billy has only been dead for a month, the worst is yet to come for her.

Robin passes you a bowl of ice cream, she has been working at Scoops for a short time. No Russians, no monsters, no war "I don't believe you have never eaten one. How did you survive so far?"

Steve hugs you, his face is covered in bruises from the torture of the Russians and you are still lying on the ground as the Mind Flayer approaches dangerously. Steve shields you with his body while you are so weak and exhausted that you can't even find the strength to move. "Go away, Steve." "You come with me"

Murray takes your by he arm dancing and you laugh with him while Hopper shakes his head. "Come on Murray leave my daughter alone" He has never called you that way before. He must notice too, cause he opens his eyes almost as wide as you do and then, slowly, he smiles sweetly at you.

001 locks you in the attic of the Creel's house, a secret room, a kind of tower hidden under the roof where nobody will ever find you again unless he wants to. There, in the midst of a large dangerous forest in the Upside- down, you will be safe, you are his guarantee, keeping him anchored to this world until the time of destruction comes. Vecna adds protections around the tower. More monsters, bats, vines and do what he has swore, he lets your friends live for now. Max wakes up blind, bones still broken and a long path ahead of her. Eddie ... Vecna lets him go as he promised and what remains of him is an empty shell, a body without a soul, dead, reopening everyone else's wounds. Dustin cries for hours, because in his heart he has hoped that your sacrifice was worth at least Eddie's life and instead it didn't help and he is even more dead than before. Will recovers slowly and for the first time since the day of his disappearance, in that distant 1983, he no longer feels the upside-down stirring in him.

Despite what Vecna does to subjugate you, every now and then a spark of clarity lights up in your mind and in the opacity of your confused eyes, he reads your fear. You don't know why but you know you're in danger and sometimes you instinctively run away. He always takes you back, again inspects your mind and never finds anything new. It's like he's violating every part of you. Eventually he arranges for you to build a wall of vines connected to his mind so that he can hear every attempt to rip them open. It's the perfect prison, an impenetrable tomb. He leaves you in there for fifteen days without talking to you. Something escapes your mind, names on the tip of your tongue you don't know where they come from, distant voices speak to you and they belong to another time. He comes back on the fifteenth day and you still try to resist him.

Another ten days go by. Twenty-five days of total isolation, food and water just enought to make you survive, without knowing who you are, where you come from, what you are like. Why am I here? Eventually one day you stop resisting and Vecna knows he can now create his own weapon. You. All he has to do is wait a little longer, allow his body to recover the lost energy, reborn stronger than before. "Who are you?" You ask one day when he walks into your room. You are no longer afraid of the appearance of him. There is innocence in your voice, something that has little to do with the humans that he despises so much. He thinks about how to answer you, then his gaze falls on your tattoo. 007. "I'm 001" You stare at him. "And who am I?" He grabs your wrist and you let him. "Seven" you read. He has a number too. He's just like you. He's not sure why he has avoided it until now, a real contact with you, but he knows he doesn't want to anymore. "That's a long, sad story." You are sitting on the ground, looking at the dark ceiling and experiencing something new, which replaces fear and confusion: boredom. It grips you, takes you to travel with your mind to the story that One has told you. A bad man took you, used you because you are special and then your sister Eleven betrayed you, she opened a gateway to this world - and you don't know why but you call it the upside-down - and locked you up here, in a world without humans, which is cause of that a perfect place. Humans are bad and Eleven chose them anyway. She chose the bad man and she turned One into a monster. You don't care anyway: he is your brother, he is saving you.

We have to kill humans. They hurt us, they only hurt. Parasites.

The world without them is beautiful, One will show it to you one day, when you regain your strength. You're powerless, he says. He keeps you trapped to keep you safe, it's dangerous. They want to kill you.They want to take what's left of your powers. One promises you that you will train together to recover them and then you will go to the world of men and you will see with your eyes, what you are fighting. Then you will have peace together.

Sometimes One watches you for hours and you never notice, you never turn your head towards him. His plan his working, still there is something about you that has remained secret. Hidden. He understands this when he visits you one night, you are sleeping and when he comes in you don't open your eyes too tired by prigony and by a strange sense of emptiness that sucks you in. You don't eat anymore, you sleep a few hours a night and he knows that he must start making you use your powers slowly, otherwise you will let yourself die. Yet he does not trust you, he must be sure that you will not turn against him. "Are you here to rescue me?" You whisper, clouded minded. He doesn't give you an answer. It's better not to.

"You are here for your own safety," he says simply. "And you will stay here for now"

"I don't want to stay anymore," it comes a desperate plea. "I wanna go home" But you don't even remember what home is. Do you have one? He reaches forward to touch your pale cheek. "This. Is. Home." He's angry. And you're so tired you won't even remember this conversation.

He starts training you the next day, with nastiness and brutality. It's a punishment for what you said, a lesson to put yourself back in your place. "You have to learn to hit, like this" He openes his hand towards you and instantly you are thrown away, you hit the wall and your body protests at the painful impact, immediately like laces those strange vines squeeze your wrists and legs, squeeze, squeeze, squeeze more and more and then let you fall to the ground, stumble down to the floor, surprised by the sudden release. You bite your lip and scrunch your brows, sad and angered by the situation. "Do you understand?" One asks. "What they will do to you is even worse, Eleven will not be as kind as me. She will kill you if you don't kill her first." You get up from the floor and look away. "Are they really this cruel?"

"Oh, Seven. Humans are the worst, you'll learn"

"But why I don't remember anything? I've got this ... Feeling like I'm missing something .. Important?"

"You'll learn. Trust me. I saved you" Yet you don't really feel like he has saved you. At all. After a while you nod, One steps closer and reaches for you cheek wet from tears and you don't even know why you're crying. You keep hearing a voice inside of you telling that something is wrong. "My soldier"

"I will return in two days," One promises as he walks away. "I want you to know how to move these objects when I get back. The next task could ... hurt you otherwise."

*

You find it easy enough to move things, you feel you have strong control over your powers. And so the days go by and moving things around becomes a fight with bat-shaped monsters, then big dogs with a flower head that you slaughter without too much trouble and One hits you often, instigating you to fight with him. This is what they will do to you, he's preparing you for the enemy, sometimes you wonder if this enemy really exists. "Well done, my Seven" he says one day."That's not my name," comes an answer, voice weak. You don't know why you say it, it's not because you think it. The image of an unknown man with light eyes appears in your head, he is tall with a big mustache. Is he the enemy? Yet he looks good, funny.

"What is your name?" The funny man asks. "Seven. But I don't like it, it's not even a name."

"And what name do you like?" You shake your head. "I knew a girl years ago, beautiful and brave, she was called y/n" He says "y/n ... I like it"

"And what is your name?" One asks, intrigued. He took all your memories, there shouldn't be anything left. How is it possible? "I don't know. But I know it's not that." Your mind screams "y/n" but decide it's wiser to keep quiet. You shouldn't have said anything. "Your name is Seven" He states, leaving you. You hug yourself tightly and nod. Everyday, time seems to pass slower. Everyday, existing feels more and more unbearable. You wonder if you're even alive at all. It happens one day, unexpectedly. You don't know how long it's been. One hasn't come to visit you for longer than usual, the last time you managed to hit him, just to move him, but he laughed with satisfaction.

"The time is coming Seven"

You hear a noise, something banging against the wall, muffled voices and you wonder if they are in your head. Then silence. It happens again. There's movement somewhere behind the door, you are scared cause it can't be One and you know it. You've never seen someone other than him as long as you remember, so you take a step back, frightened. There's someone at your door and it's not One, it's a girl, curly short hair, big blue eyes. There's a man, the funny one you saw in -what was that? A memory? -he's different thought, he doesn't have a mustache and his face is hollow and his eyes are darker somehow, and then there is him, a young man in front of everyone, an ax in his hands, his expression shocked. His mouth is open, his eyes veiled with something you don't understand, relief perhaps and amazement. You can't stop looking at him, there is something that chains his gaze to yours, yet you are afraid of him. He confuses you. You feel strange while he looks shocked, only now you notice his worn out clothes, stained with blood, torn in several places and his face covered with dirt, like he has fought for a long time before arriving. Humans.

"y/n" The girl whispers. Y/n. Your name is Seven. You hear One's voice in your mind as you take another step back. "You're in danger, Seven"

"y/n" Repeats the funny man, and he's not funny anymore. "Honey, we're here ... It's okay" he reassures you. You shake your head. "Attack" One orders. You put your hand over your ears as he screams in your head. "Y/n" This time the boy is calling you, his eyes wide open and terrified. He remains motionless in the grip of a presentiment, a visceral terror. Suddenly he is pale, shivering and he looks younger. A little boy. The girl moves towards you, she holds a weapon. "Attack" You remember every time One has pushed you, hit you, hurt you just for this moment to come. Denfed yourself. You reach out and yell at the girl pushing with your powers her small body against the wall. "Nancy!" The boy shouts, running towards her to help her. She has her eyes closed. "I'm fine" she whispers, but her arm has taken a strange angle. You look around, breathing hard like a caged animal and stretch out your hands ready to attack again. The man tries to take a step towards you and you point towards him. "Attack" You don't want to, something in you prevents you from hitting them again and you feel bad looking at the girl in the boy's arms. He looks at you like he just lost someone important and you wonder why, why they seem to care about you. Because they haven't killed you yet, Vecna says. But they haven't even tried. "They will"

You hide in a corner, confused, while other images flow through your mind.

The girl - Nancy- holds out her hand to help you get up. You are on a bed. It is soft. "Nancy I don't know how to thank you." You say, looking at yourself in a mirror - funny, in the present you don't even know what you look like - you wear a dress that is obviously not yours and fits tightly in places. But you are happy. "Don't thank me it's your first ball think about having fun!"

You put a hand over your eyes now, you try to tear them away and you scream afraid. One, he's too is close. You feel it in your veins.

"Go away" You find the courage to look at the man, his clear gaze veiled with worry and pain. "They'll bring Eleven to you. They'll kill you."

"You have to come with us" he replies, reaching out to you. The younger man is now standing behind him, and his eyes are veiled with tears, he's trembling and you feel physically sick under those disappointed look. Steve. A name resonates in your thoughts.

"You're an idiot Harrington "

"Steve! Please don't tickle!"

"Help me Steve!"

"Steve Harrington, I solemnly swear never to steal your candy stash again."

This time you turn to him. "Go away." You repeat, slowly. "He is coming." And you don't even know why, you just feel that it's the right thing, that you want to protect him, that they won't make it with One. The guy suddenly snaps to you, feline, grabs you by the arm hard, almost desperately, then reads the fear in your gaze, the confusion and his touch softens. It's almost like a caress and you think it's nice to be touched by another pair of hands after a long time. Even if they belong to the enemy they can be delicate. "You have to come with us, please" He begs you. There is no more time, One's so close that you can almost feel it in your bones. With a wave of your hand you push them away and somehow manage not to hurt them. They look at you "I'm not letting you!" The young man says, getting up quickly and wiping a trickle of blood from his mouth, eyes tearing up. He's angry. His hands clenched in two fists. "We have been looking for you for so long." He continues as the girl places a hand - the one that doesn't seem broken - on his shoulder and gestures for him to go. "We'll be back, I swear to you." She promises. A heavy presence appears out of nowhere, and you know all hope is lost.

"Go away. Please" The last words come out distorted from your lips. You feel bad. Humans have hurt you and you, you are helping them without even knowing why. They run away, giving you one last glance while you stand still in the center of the room. One is here, in front of you.

[whump-me]

My Patreon is officially live!!

New whump writing is going up 2-3 times a week, with a focus on ongoing novel-length stories. Interrogation whump, spy whump, lab whump, sci-fi and fantasy elements, lots and lots of emotional whump… basically the same stuff I post here, but more of it.

There are three tiers available:

$3/month: Early access to everything that goes up here. The plan is to always have one story going, with new chapters being released 2-3x/week. Once the last chapter is released on Patreon, the first chapter will be released on Tumblr. For the average novel-length story, that means subscribers will be reading about two months ahead.

$5/month: Early access, plus side stories and bonus novels. Approximately twice as much whumpy writing as the previous tier. Stories released to this tier will be exclusive to Patreon for a minimum of one year.

$7/month: Cleanly-formatted downloadable copies of every completed story in epub and mobi format. (Epub is readable on most e-reading apps and readers, including Kindle. Mobi is a legacy Kindle format.) This is the easiest way to read if you prefer to wait until the story is complete, or if you like to reread.

And if you can't join the Patreon, or just don't want to? No worries! I'll still be posting loads of stuff here.

(Name note: for now, I'm publishing these stories on Patreon using the same name I've previously used to publish more traditional--read, less overtly whumpy--urban fantasy novels, while I decide whether to publish all my novels under the same name, or use that name exclusively for urban fantasy. These stories may be published under a different name in the future.)

Obscure, a Mind Games novel, is the first story I'm releasing to Patreon, and the first chapter is available there now. (You might remember the Mind Games setting from my Whumptober 2023 stories.) New chapters will come out 3x/week.

When Obscure is complete on Patreon (which will be in mid-March), I'll be posting it here on the same schedule: three chapters a week until it's done. (If you want to get on the taglist for when it's available here, let me know.)

The first Patreon bonus content--which will be the first half of Defect, another Mind Games story--will be posted at the beginning of February. (As with my Whumptober 2023 stories, these novels all stand entirely alone, sharing a setting but nothing else. They can be read in any order, and you don't need to read one to understand the others.)

Story descriptions under the cut:

Obscure

Forgetting is dangerous. Remembering is deadly.

Elias: the man sitting handcuffed in an interrogation room deep in a secret underground facility. On the surface, he looks harmless. But his mind is a weapon—he can erase memories with a thought.

Kirill: the man on the other side of the interrogation table. He has a weapon of his own—he can see inside other people’s memories. All he has to do is make them feel a strong enough emotion, and their minds are his. And no emotion works quite as well as fear.

Elias has worked for decades to save the Enhanced—people born with superhuman abilities—from being abducted and forced into black-ops work. Now his captors want the names of everyone who has ever helped him. If Kirill’s methods of persuasion don’t work, he’ll simply use Elias’s fear to slip into his mind and plunder his memories.

But he may get more than he bargained for.

Decades ago, Elias erased a set of memories that tie the two of them together in a way neither of them suspects. And those memories are about to come to light.

Obscure is part of the Mind Games universe, a series of standalone stories about ordinary humans with superhuman abilities and the people who want to use or destroy them. This novel is 65,000 words long, or about 200 pages.

---

Defect

Their creators designed them to be the perfect weapons.

They forgot to make sure they could control their creations.

Sparrow’s explosive powers make her a living bomb. She spends her life locked away in a fireproof cell, brought out only when something needs to burn. But the longer you contain an explosion, the stronger it becomes.

All she knows is that she wanted to see the sky. Then came fire, and screaming, and death. Now she’s lost on unfamiliar city streets, hunted by her creators and the civilian authorities alike.

Mary went from being a failed experiment to a lab assistant prized for her intelligence and her perfect obedience. But after years without useful results, her lab is slated for shutdown. That means the dissection table for Mary. Unless she captures her creators’ rogue weapon and proves her lab holds the secret to controlling her power.

Mary offers Sparrow the thing she thought she could never have: freedom. Freedom from her creators, and from her own uncontrollable power.

It’s a lie.

Mary accepted long ago that there’s no such thing as freedom for people like them. There is only survival—and she’ll do whatever it takes to survive.

Defect is part of the Mind Games universe, a series of standalone stories about ordinary humans with superhuman abilities and the people who want to use or destroy them. This novella is 42,000 words long, or about 140 pages.

[flydotnet]

Bad Things Happen Bingo! The event where you send me requests according to this marvelous card! (Red cross is the completed prompt, character headshots are prompts I’ve already filled).

He's a child with the brain of an adult, the biggest moron you've ever seen!

I cannot get over the fact I somehow didn't write for Detectice Conan until this week. This franchise was my actual gateway into whump when I was 6 and my ass still didn't write any juicy stuff with it. I got back into DCMK back in 2017, have rewatched select episodes and/or movies of it (mostly the 1st and 2nd ones, which are both part of my formative whump experience lol) every year… but nope!

Actually, this prompt was supposed to be for IDOLiSH7, and I had the idea for it written down for two years; but let's be real, I was never going to write it, especially this late, and instead, I jumped onto the first other opportunity to get rid of this prompt.

That opportunity came in the form of Tekiro who, to my surprise, actually paid attenion to my stupid ramblings about my stupid bingo card for whomst knows what dark purposes, and handed me an idea on a silver platter: DCMK, Shinichi as Conan and Ran, post-falling-into-some-water-during-a-case. I was smitten with the idea and ran with so hard.

I think the final product did diverge from Tekiro's original idea, unfortunately. Ran was meant to play a much more proactive role in this, but instead, I ended up with mostly Shinichi doing what he does best: overthink absolutely everything and also simping for Ran while he's at it. The image of Conan buried in blankets was fun though!

-------------------------------------------------

Blanket Statements

Summary: Shinichi, buried underneath three and a half blankets, ponders upon the orb (his feelings on the situation and also how cool Ran is).

Fandom: Detective Conan Relationships: Shinichi/Ran

Word Count: 1.7K words

AO3 version available here.

-------------------------------------------------

Somewhere through the haze of fever, between two approximate tons of blankets covering from chin to toe, one statement rings through his mind: this is somewhat humiliating.

Well, Shinichi supposes being a genius sixteen-year-old stuck in a six-year-old’s body is embarrassing to begin with since nobody takes you seriously anymore (except, like, two cops, a fugitive from the criminal organisation who got you there in the first place and one jackass from Osaka who somehow guessed you were a genius sixteen-year-old stuck in a six-year-old’s body). Being treated like a child has certainly not stopped irking him, even if with time, the mask has started sticking with a little less discomfort to his face; but this is another humiliation altogether, even compared to what’s sadly become his daily life.

For all of the mishaps he’s had on cases and outside of his favourite activity in the whole world, Shinichi had never pictured himself buried in a pile of blankets, with just his face sticking out from there, in the Mouris’ flat of all places. Maybe Prof Akasa’s lab would’ve felt less shameful, since that man has seen him in states Shinichi can only hope to forget the memory of, but the Mouris’? Where Ran lives? Mortifying.

The way he ended up in this situation is a farce in itself – that much he knows from how Hattori mocked the hell out of him on the phone when he had to explain the context behind one of Ran and Kazuha’s conversations that stupid Osakan had caught word of. He wouldn’t have needed said Osakan’s opinion to think that, of course, but it only serves to corroborate what he already deducted.

It was just a run-of-the-mill criminal case in Beika: suspicious death near a river, three suspects without any alibi and possible motives all around, foul play clearly involved. Truth be told, it was almost insulting how easy it was for Shinichi to untangle the whole thing and straighten it into a single timeline to take everyone along for the side with Uncle’s cigarette-laden voice.

Or, well, it’d have been, if he hadn’t fallen straight into the cold waters below when trying to showcase something to Inspector Megure.

Instead, it very much had the opposite effect: not only did it then take Inspector Sato around fifteen minutes to deduce what he was trying to hint at, it also threw the whole situation for a loop because, for all of his athletic prowess, Shinichi had trouble swimming with the heavy winter gear Ran had dressed him up in and drowning became a possibility much too fast to his liking.

Ran did save him from the waters, at least, but not before he was thoroughly soaked and had to stew in his own juices for a little while. There was no hiding behind the bushes to pretend to be Sleeping Kogoro either, so it was a long, drawn-out time session of whodunnit – one Shinichi was very frustrated not to be participating in and very satisfied to leave.

If it had stopped at an uncomfortable half-hour spent watching not-that-sharp-witted detectives (and Inspector Sato) try putting together a puzzle that wasn’t that complicated because nobody had noticed the clue left by the riverbank, Shinichi wouldn’t be stewing in his frustration and pile of blankets. No, that’d have been too easy, and someone in the skies above has something against him, he’s certain of it.

It’s a cliché. It’s such a cliché and he’s certain hypothermia isn’t supposed to do that to you aside from, well, hypothermia – but Shinichi has fallen ill after a dip in the water and it pisses him off.

Yeah, okay, he’s caught what can honestly be called a nasty cold, but this doesn’t mean Ran isn’t going overkill with it. He loves her, he really does, including when she gets protective over him (even when she doesn’t know it, courtesy of his current form); but this really is too much.

Ran’s always been like that, though. Once she gets into caring mode, there’s nobody that can stop us. Not even a tsunami could, Shinichi is certain: if he, or her father, or Sonoko, or Kazuha was trapped in the midst of a deadly flood, a wall of water heading for all of them, Ran would swim back to them, put them to safety, and only then maybe think of saving herself. It’s nerve-wracking to be around her, sometimes, when you know she’ll absolutely destruct herself if it means saving someone.

Long reasoning short, it’s not surprising that she’d bury him under a bazillion blankets too much for a simple cold; so imagine one where his voice, usually so childish and disgustingly high-pitched for a teen (let alone impossible to take seriously, let’s be real there), has almost gone instinct on him and where he can spike a fever whenever his body feels like it’s not doing enough damage to the virus inside it. Delightful, really.

It’d be more delightful if it didn’t feel like being smothered in a thousand heavy blankets by the strongest arms in the world – but what can Shinichi say? That he doesn’t like the attention? That’d be a lie. He couldn’t even say that without breaking into a terribly tense smirk. That’s ridiculous.

Ridiculous, but also somewhat humiliating. And also, he’s dying from blanket overdose.

Time to do something about it, he supposes.

“Raaaaan,” he takes on his whiny little snotty brat voice (even if it sounds more scratched than Prof Akasa’s dust-covered records that he still uses, for some reason), “do I really need all those blankets?”

She turns around in half a second (Shinichi refuses to think for even a second this fever and the mucus in his brain are slowing his mind, he’s more than above that) and rushes in a swift run, hair flowing behind her and picking all of the daylight in the room.

“You’ll be cold if you take them off!” She replies without a single grain of reluctance. “And you need to be warm!”

“But… I’m way too hot, Raaaaan…”

Instead of getting at least one blanket off him, out of three (a meltingly comfortable plaid, a scratchy blanket Uncle keeps in his office for some reason and Ran’s favourite, he can tell by the fragrance, it’s very pleasing), she kneels in front of the couch with a worried frown that’s both endearing and infuriating.

“Let me see,” she tells him in that voice she always gives the Detective Boys, always gives Conan.

Maybe it’s because having a head cold is making him snappier, but he can’t jive with that tone as well as he usually does. Most days, he can just bypass the infantilization of it all to focus on what matters (Ran paying him her upmost attention and spending all her time with him).

Ran does what she tends to do when confronted with someone with too red of a cheek: she puts her left hand on her forehead, palm against skin, and the back of her right on someone else’s forehead. Strands of his hair, soaked with sweat, are clinging to the base of her fingers, but she doesn’t complain, doesn’t as much as frown in disgust or discomfort, not even slightly.

“Your fever’s gone down a little,” she concludes with a slightly less concerned voice and alleviated features, much to his own relief. “But we need to keep it in check!”

“I know, Ran, I knooooow.”

She gets back up and stares at the pile in front of her, tilting her head left to right and back to left, a pout on her lips.

“On second thought, if you’re feeling better, maybe we could take off a blanket… Do you feel too hot, Conan?”

He vigorously shakes his head to the point of dizzying himself. This would be embarrassing if he wasn’t too busy trying to get himself a little freer, and also, dealing with a stupid head cold that has turned everything about his sharp senses into nothing but meaningless mush.

“I see,” Ran muses, fingers dancing on her chin before she finally goes for the top blanket – the scratchy one Kogoro keeps in his office. “Is it better?”

He nods again and, to his pleasure, it’s both cooler on his overheated skin and bringing a smile to the girl he’s officially dating when not obligated to be in a six-year-old’s literal shoes.

“That’s good, then! Do you need anything else?”

Shinichi hesitates on that one. Ran’s pretty much been hovering him nonstop for two days, and it’s starting to show on her face. Not so deep down, he knows he doesn’t need much: he has water near him, there is no painkillers he can take for a couple more hours, his eyelids are drooping again and he’s, at the end of the day, a teenager used to living alone.

However, being Conan has a couple perks; most importantly, if he wants to be a needy brat who just has to have big sis Ran by his side during a boring Sunday while sick with a killer head cold, then he gets to be that brat all over again. Ran can barely say no to Conan, much more than she’d be with Shinichi, and there just have to be perks about his current situation. Moreover… Faded memories of frankly lonely days spent wasting away in bed or on the couch with barely any attention other than Prof Akasa’s have left him wanting for more, and if usually he can keep it at bay with a passion for crime mysteries, now, it’s a whole other story. A distraction is always welcome.

All in all, with a dashing uniform vote from all of his sides, Shinichi decides being whiny as Conan is the best use of his stupidly boring sick day.

“Can you stay with me?” He asks, sniffling, as miserable as the most cliché Victorian child possible.

As always, to his upmost happiness, Ran’s face softens and she gives him the sweetest smile as she comes to sit next to him.

“Of course I can do that, Conan,” she replies with words like honey. “Anything else?”

“No, that’s good enough.”

He lets his head droop on her shoulder and falls asleep right here and there.

He can think about this being humiliating or not when it doesn’t feel as fuzzy and warm to be bundled in so many blankets.

[whumpy-wyrms]

The Last Lab Rat CYOA #9

TLLR AU masterlist | TLLR masterlist

content: whumpee pov, lab whump, sorta drugging but not really, scientist carewhumper

You chose: Timidly drink it. You’re wary, but you’re in too much pain not to.

— 

You sigh. He’s already got you exactly where he wants you. You’re trapped and restrained with a sprained ankle, you know what happens when you refuse him, so there’s nothing much you can do but comply. Besides, if you refuse, he’ll probably find a way to get that into your system anyway, and you’d rather take the easy way this time. And it’s probably a good idea to try and gain this guy’s trust so you can use it to escape later.

So, despite being horrified about what this strange looking liquid will do to you, you timidly reach out and grab the vial from his hands. You see him smiling from the corner of your eye, no doubt glad that you're actually complying for once. Then slowly, with shaking hands, you bring the vial to your lips and take a sip.

It tastes odd- strong, overwhelming your senses, and yet you can’t pinpoint the flavor or if it even has one. You grimace as you gulp it down quickly and try your hardest to ignore the strange taste as the glowing liquid slides down your throat. Once you’re done, you lick your lips and timidly look up at Anton.

“There, that wasn’t so bad,” he says, plucking the empty vial out of your hand. “Your ankle should heal in no time.” He ruffles your hair and smiles down at you.

Goosebumps spread across your skin. He keeps doing that. It should bother you, but for some reason… it doesn’t.

You’re both still sitting on the floor, your back against the wall and him sitting cross crossed legged across from you. Your eyes flicker to the window to your right, the constant looming reminder of that strange place just on the other side of the glass. You wonder what he just made you drink, and if he’d just mixed it up himself with all those strange tubes of chemicals you see out there.

Your captor follows your gaze out the window, watching you look out at his laboratory with worry painted over your face. He tilts his head.

“You’re wondering why you’re here, aren’t you?” He asks, giving you that same gentle smile.

You look at him and nod, hearing your heart thumping rapidly in your chest in nervous anticipation. Finally, finally, he’s going to tell you everything. Took him long enough.

“I’m a scientist.” He grins, twirling the empty glass vial between his fingers as he talks. “I have a lot of ideas and a lot of goals… but it was getting too dangerous to keep experimenting on myself. I need a new human subject to test my experiments on, so that’s what you’re for!”

Dread pools in your stomach. “Your… test subject?”

“Yes! All you have to do is stay here and let me test out whatever experiment I want to do on you. It’s not that bad. There won't be that much pain, if I can help it.” He ruffles your hair affectionately. “I’m sure it’s a lot to process, and I’ll give you all the time to adjust that you need. But everything will be much easier if you accept it. I know you’ll come to like it here.”

Well… now you know.

next

— 

glad we agreed to drink his silly juice 🧪🧪🧪!!! it’s so scrumptious!!! best thing i've ever tasted fr i want more!!!

taglist: @creppersfunpalooza @whumpsday @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @inkwell-and-dagger @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl

@vidawhump @bottlecapreader @whumpinthepot @lumpywhump @paperprinxe

@indigoisaspookyghost2 @lumpofsand @whump-till-ya-jump @inhurtandincomfort @echo-of-umbra

@sariadragon

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

[i-eat-worlds]

The Subject Part 3

B127 is confused by basic human decency. Hope you enjoy! If you find grammar or spelling mistakes, pls tell me.

CW: pet whump and medical whump, hospital settting, small needle mention, dehumanization, scars and injuries, caretaker new master, doctor caretaker, dubcon touch (non-sexual)

“I’m going to touch you now.” Dr. Brenner warned. “It’s not going to hurt, I’m just going to look.” B127’s eyes had adjusted to the light, and its brain had nally started working. If it wasn’t going to be restrained, the doctor would surely use pain meds for the dissection. That wouldn’t be too bad, B127 decided.

As the doctor studied it, it studied him. Dr. Brenner looked almost like the exact opposite of Dr. Glassener. Where she had been thin and lithe, he was tall and muscular, his scrubs were deep red compared to her pale blue. The most striking difference was in their faces. His mouth was pressed into a thin line, his eyes almost mournful, miles away from Dr. Glassener’s too-sweet smile and the poisonous glint in her eyes. For some reason it didn’t understand, it found itself trusting the doctor as he surveyed the subject's number of wounds.

Dr. Brenner’s eyes widened in horror at the state of B127. Scars ran across its body, each telling a painful story. Several ran from under its breastbone to its belly button, more from hip-bone to hip-bone. Thick bruising covered the sides of its ribs. All of it must have hurt, but the thing that worried the doctor the most was the angry, festering wound on the subject’s left side, tucked right under its rib cage. It looked frighteningly recent like it hadn’t even been a full day since the injury. Taking out his penlight, Dr. Brenner took a closer look at the wound. It was half-stitched, poorly done, some had torn, while the others were in too deep to be of any help. That would be priority number one after the examination was complete.

B127 watched warily as the doctor moved on from its torso and abdomen to its head. The look on his face was not good, the sorrow in his eyes was replaced by anger. Maybe he would pull his teeth. That would make sense. “I’m going to look inside your mouth now. It might be a bit uncomfortable, but it won’t hurt.” Dr. Brenner, still holding the penlight, picked up a tongue depressor. Instead of shoving the stick into its mouth, he waited until B127 compliantly opened it.

The stick pressed against its tongue as the doctor shined his light in. His facial expression improved. “That’s good.” He said as he removed the stick from its mouth. “Your vocal cords haven’t been severed.” It was a common thing with subjects he had seen from Hemlock Labs, but this one appeared to have been spared. “Can you say something for me?’

B127 paled. Was it being asked to talk? “Yes, doctor, it can talk.” Its voice was hoarse and raspy from not being used for so long, barely audible.

“That’s good.” Dr. Brenner smiled softly as B127 nodded. “You can speak freely here, okay? If something hurts, I want you to tell me. If something I do scares you or makes you uncomfortable, I need you to tell me, yeah?”

“Yes, doctor,” B127 said again, still getting used to speaking.

“I need to ask you some questions, okay?” Dr. Brenner said as he grabbed something else from the instrument table. “There aren’t any wrong answers, and it’s okay if you don't know. You understand?”

“It understands, doctor.” B127’s voice was starting to lose its hoarseness, but it was still so quiet. The pit in Dr. Brenner’s stomach was deepened by B127’s perfect, trained responses as he redirected his attention back to the nasty wound on its left side.

First things first, pain meds. B127 had suffered long enough, and Dr. Brenner would be damned if he caused any more pain. “Do you remember when you got this?” He said as he got ready to start an IV. “This might sting a little.”

“It got it this morning, doctor.” It inched as he pushed the needle into the crook of its elbow. “Dr. Glassener wanted to see the results for herself, doctor” Its tone sounded pleasant on the surface, but it hid notes of fear and worry.

“Do you know what she was looking for, exactly?” Dr. Brenner tried to keep the anger from showing on his face. B127 would assume that it was directed at him when it wasn’t, and he was already terried. “It’s okay if you don’t.”

“Dr. Glassener wanted to make sure its stomach had healed properly, doctor,” B127 stated plainly as if it was talking about the weather. It wouldn’t know about the weather though, it hadn’t properly been outside in years Dr. Brenner silently cursed everyone at Hemlock labs. Judging by the poor attempt at wound closing, this “Dr. Glassener” wasn’t a real doctor. The fact that she had been permitted to muck around inside B127 whenever and however she fancied was very concerning. Who knew the internal injuries that the poor thing could have? He would need to get them scanned in the morning. “Hey, can you tell me if you can feel this? Does it hurt?” He gently poked the area around the wound.

“No, doctor.” B127 was confused. Why would Dr. Brenner care if it hurts? It’s supposed to be in pain, that’s how it knows it’s being good.

“If it starts to hurt again, tell me, okay? I’ll get you some more painkillers.” Dr. Brenner said as he picked up a shiny metal instrument from the tray. “I’m going to have to remove the old stitches, clean it out, then put new ones in. It shouldn’t take too long. Any questions, buddy?”

“Uhhh-Ummm.” B127 stuttered. If Dr. Brenner wanted it to ask questions, it should ask a question. “Why…why are you giving it painkillers? It was trained not to feel pain. You don’t need to waste them on it.”

Dr. Brenner cursed again in his mind. Even with the screwed-up laws of the Subject system, they required that subjects receive pain medication. “I don’t want you to be in pain, okay? You don’t deserve to be hurt.” B127 just gave him a quizzical lock and shook it’s-no, his-head.

If Dr. Brenner's heart wasn’t already in a million pieces, it would’ve shattered.

Taglist: @stabby-nunchucks @rainbows-and-whumperflies

[shywhumpauthor]

Hey! I need some help with my writing, and you seemed like the best place to go!

So my whumpee is being experimented on in a lab, eventually to be turned into an angel-like thing (wings and blindness).

I would love to build on the whump scenarios that happen in the lab, and maybe after she escapes with the inhuman caretaker?

Lemme know! Thank you so so much, I love your posts! 💞

Aw anon of course, I’ll help as much as I can! I’m a bit confused with your wording—but I believe you’re asking for ideas for the experiments and the aftermath with the caretaker? Correct me if I’m wrong though! Also I wasn’t entirely sure what you meant by inhuman caretaker, so I kept that aspect kind of vague. Same kind of thing with the “blindness”, I tried to do a bit of research on angels for this but it led me in a hundred different directions sooo I tried?

For experiments, the big thing I can think of is surgeries. A long series of painful, complicated procedures, each one designed to target a small part of the transition. Altering Whumpee’s anatomy of their spine/shoulder blades to first create space for the wings, one to connect the beginning muscles to those they already have, careful attachments of the ligaments, extending the nerves through the new appendages. Have fun with the technicalities here, add in as many little details as you wish.

For other aspects of the (assuming) human to angel, drugs. String a bunch of random letters together, boom. All sorts of drugs, to promote fast healing, less recovery time needed between operations, to prevent illness associated with infections they might contract with the prolonged open exposure of the wounds. Give them something that will lessen the chances of their body rejecting the new additions, that will be fun.

Then once the wings are attached, lots of tests. Stimulation, reaction time, having to physically teach them how to control the new body parts. If they have feathers, that will be a whole new nightmare, having to grow them, grooming, the technicalities behind how they will be produced, on and on.

Physical therapy of course, do I really need to extend on this?

Other possibilities for what happens in the lab, for sensation testing, stick a bunch of little tiny needle sensors into the wings, use those to track their ability to connect the sensory to their mind, see if they can pinpoint where the needles are without seeing them put in. Run little shocks through the metal, test how much the current translates from the appendage to their pain receptors. See how they deal with hot, cold, pluck out the feathers one by one to expose the sensitive, raw “flesh” below and then cut that up for the same reasons above.

Keep them in a cage when they’re not in “use”, a tiny one which they could barely fit in, forcing them to cram their wings uncomfortably

I’m not entirely sure how the blindness would come along, but you could either have the Whumpers inflict it intentionally, or it could be an accidental side effect of one of the drugs, a minor setback

Whenever Whumpee isn’t actively being tested on, bind their wings. Tight burlap pulled across the feathers, bound flush against their back with straps of leather to keep them out of the way. It’s uncomfortable and painful, will leave them stiff and sore for days after they’re released from the bonds 

After the escape, they’ll obviously be traumatized. They could have developed anxious habits in the lab such as tugging out their own feathers, or hiding their wings against them because they were so adverse to having them touched and used to otherwise having them bound

They won’t be able to stand anyone touching their wings. Instant meltdown, panic attack, screaming and begging and crying much to Caretaker’s horror and confusion

Because they won’t let caretaker help care for their wings, and they don’t know/are unable to do so on their own, they become a rather sore sight, ingrown feathers, molting is a nightmare, pains and aches, stiffness and reluctance to move

They hate confined spaces, but extending their wings feels unnatural

Maybe there’s a refeeding syndrome thing where because they were so used to whatever crap they were fed in the lab, some sort of mush composed of only the bare nutrients they needed to survive and thrive during the trials that they cannot adjust to actual food

Alright I’m tired writing this and I can’t think of anything else right now, I hope this helps! If you need more, by all means send another ask I’ll be happy to help more!

[whumpshaped]

and this draft is from AGES AGO (from christmas, when @the-scrapegoat made this delightful piece of art for me and i tried to write for it but never really ended up finishing it even tho i fucken. *chokes air* FINN BELOVED.) so idk have a look if u want

tw magical whump, threat of torture, restrainted, muzzled

"Marvelous!" Ezith exclaimed with an insufferable grin in the midst of another one of Finn's outbursts. The poor thing didn't want to go in the box again, something which Ezith had little concern for. But today, oh, today they weren't frustrated with their little lab rat. Today was the day of exciting new experiments and fun games.

Finn stopped at the sudden cheerfulness, cautiously stepping back from where he stood. "M-marvelous?"

"Yes, yes, you're perfect! Perfect for this new thing I found!" They waved, and a book flew over to them, all the pages rapidly flipping from one side to the other until they came to an abrupt and seemingly random stop. Ezith snatched it from where it was floating in the air, turning it towards Finn, so he could see the illustration. "I've read about this thing yesterday, the humans call it a 'table saw'. I thought it looked very intriguing, but I had no idea what I could possibly use it for! But I know now!"

Realisation dawned on the boy, but there was little he could do now to rectify his slip-up. Before he could make a single sound, Ezith's magic was already swirling around the room, casting a faint golden glow on every surface. It was suffocating, at first only metaphorically, and later literally when a long strip of linen wrapped around his head like a snake. It covered Finn's mouth and nose, but only for a moment before it quickly slid a little further down, allowing him some much needed air while still acting as a muzzle.

The table was assembled in front of his very eyes, Ezith pulling wood and metal out of thin air as they worked. The mage's powers had always been terrifying to an average human like Finn, and no amount of time was going to get rid of that unease. Whenever Ezith decided to do something of this caliber, it always reminded him how powerless he really was. Even if they allowed him food and water, sometimes even free roam around their ever-changing home, he was always at their mercy. One warning away from being forced down onto a table by sheer magical power, strapped in so tightly that there was absolutely no way he could find a way out.

Finn let out muffled screams of panic, but Ezith was preoccupied with constructing the blade. He could see them sculpt the little spikes, testing them, flashing him a pleased smile when a little bead of blood appeared on their finger. "You're gonna love this. And if not, I'm gonna love it all the same."

~

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

[starksvinyls]

Title: Helpless Rating: Teen+ Pairing: Peter Parker & Tony Stark Tags/Warnings: Whump, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Kidnapping, Hopeful Ending (guys i can not stress this enough that it is 1 line at the end) (if you're looking for deep h/c with a lot of 'c' it's not here), Pre-Relationship (if you squint) (seriously you can read it as platonic or pre-relationship <3), Canon Divergence from Post-Endgame Summary: Tony is kidnapped, drugged, and feeling very helpless. He's sure no one will notice he's gone for days. He forgot about one person, though. Notes: for @febuwhump day 1: helpless

AO3 Link

The first thing Tony is aware of is the pain in his head. The next is biting metal around his wrists. He blinks slowly, eyes adjusting to the scant light in the room. All the walls are concrete, as is the floor, and when Tony looks, he sees a couple small windows high up. Basement. His vision is still a little blurry, so he tries to blink his surroundings back into focus, but it’s futile. Tony thumps his head back onto the table he’s strapped to, and stares up at the stained ceiling. 

A door scrapes open. Tony doesn’t know how long he’s been laying here; he knows he’s been losing time. Suddenly, a man is in Tony’s line of sight. Through his still-blurry vision, he can make out a pudgy balding head with small wire framed glasses perched on it’s pig like nose. 

“Ah, Mister Stark,” The man has an Eastern European accent, but Tony can’t pick out where exactly from. “Good to see you awake.” 

“Wish I could say the same,” Tony slurs.  

The man purses his lips. “If you can talk, the dosage must be wearing off.” 

Tony’s breath hitches. Drugged, of course. His vision, the time loss, not being able to think clearly. Fuck. 

The man steps over to a table, Tony isn’t able to watch what he is doing, it hurts his neck to keep his head up for too long. Another thing he curses. Very little sound came from the other side of the room, but Tony knows that isn’t an indication of what might be happening. 

When the man turns back around and comes over, Tony glances down and tries to jerk away when his brain registers the IV kit. A constant stream of whatever this psycho had shot him up with could only mean more of this disorientation. 

His captor’s eyebrows come together, an angry look clouding his features. The metal around Tony’s wrists tightens, and he winces. Then, the man gets to work setting up the IV, hanging an unmarked bag full of a pale yellow liquid on an IV pole he had pulled closer. 

It only takes a moment before dark spots start to appear in Tony’s vision, his muscles all relax - like a full body exhale - and then his mind fizzles out. 

The next time Tony is even marginally aware, there’s a bright light hanging over him, blinding his already spotty vision. He blinks until he can make out shapes enough to make out the man from before, standing over him. He gets a glimpse of a lab coat before seeing someone else step towards the table. The new figure hands the pig nosed man something, but Tony is drifting again before he can figure out what it is.

——

What feels like only minutes, but must be hours, later, Tony blinks back awake. It’s dark

now, moonlight barely reflecting off the small windows near the top of the walls. His mind is a little clearer, thank god, and his vision isn’t blurry anymore. There’s no way he can make a break for it though, his hands, and his ankles Tony suddenly realizes, are still held tight by metal. 

Trying to get his genius mind back online enough to try and at least parse together who the hell has him, if he can figure that out, he can probably figure out the where. With that, it shouldn’t be difficult to think of how to get back to New York, Tony just needs to known how many miles he’s dealing with. But, he keeps losing his train of thought. Ideas keep fizzling out, lost along synapses, and the harder he tries, the faster he loses them. 

Whatever that psycho gave Tony sure as hell took him out. Not having full use of his limbs, being tied down, held captive, wasn’t quite enough to keep Tony down as long as he had his mind. But take that away from him, he was like a sitting duck. 

He tries to think about who might know he’s missing, and it just makes him more depressed about this whole situation. The Avengers were no more, Rhodey is out of the country doing bureaucratic BS, Happy is on his honeymoon with May, and Pepper is in Tokyo on business. 

None of them will notice that Tony isn’t there. 

Tony clenches his jaw and tries again to think of a plan. 

——

The sun is starting to come up, the warm light overtaking the cold of the night through the tiny windows of the basement. Refusing to sleep, scared of what might happen, Tony is still awake. While laying there, Tony had done his best to take stock of his body. His muscles were still jelly-like, but he could feel several long cuts along his chest and torso, clearly stitched back up. He panics, his breathing becoming quick and shallow. What was this motherfucker doing to him? Why was he doing this? 

After several rounds of the breathing exercises his therapist had introduced him to, Tony was able to calm down enough to not hurt himself. But, he is still no clearer than he had been. He’s truly starting to worry. Typical drugs should have worn off by now, without the IV still in, which he woke up without hours ago. Whatever this mad scientist gave him is something Tony isn’t familiar with. 

Tony is starting to think that maybe he’ll be stuck down here for days, maybe weeks (if the mad scientist doesn’t kill him first) before anyone finds him. Three months in that cave, he had survived. But Tony doesn’t think he’ll survive this. He’s truly helpless here. 

An hour ticks by, Tony staring at the ceiling and counting the minutes. There’s a thump above him, like someone upstairs fell to the floor. It gains Tony’s attention and he strains his ears to hear anything else. Another thud. 

Suddenly there’s yelling. A gun goes off, Making Tony startle. Maybe someone did notice he was missing? Some did come for him! Tony can’t help it, a relieved sob breaks free from his chest. More yelling, more thumps, and then the faintest familiar sound. How could Tony have forgotten?  

Thwip thwip.

[inscrutable-shadow]

Mediwhump May Day 5 - No Response

@mediwhumpmay

Later than I had anticipated, but at long last, it is complete, haha. James belongs to @rizzamacka-whump! I guess the Back-Alley AU is canonically in a really hot place now? Or maybe it's global warming, who knows.

“Thank you again for being willing to help,” the Doctor called down into the space under the clinic. “Oh, it’s no trouble!” the young man underneath called back, breathing slightly laboured but cheery as ever. They really were grateful for his assistance. They’d thought they’d have to close the clinic entirely today, owing to the sweltering heat making the inside intolerable with the air conditioning unit on the fritz again. Colonel Zhang, or James, as he had insisted upon being called, had noticed them dejectedly fanning themselves on the front step and asked what he could do. They were fairly confident that he saw them as a helpless old woman, which was not an illusion they would attempt to dispel, especially not before he’d finished down there. 

This heat wave was the worst in several years. The clinic, which was older than the Doctor and had already been run down when they had acquired it, had ancient utilities that just couldn’t take the strain. Apparently, the cooling unit’s main body was in the crawl space underneath the building, which hadn’t been constructed to code (or had warped to an incredible degree) and would be quite difficult for the six-foot-tall Doctor to manoeuvre around (if they were so inclined to get their hands dirty, which they were not). James, however, was much smaller and seemed to have no issues making his way to the problem area.

They were perfectly content to await his return with iced coffee and the frozen fruit cubes they had spent the morning making in lieu of treating patients. The Doctor’s Nordic blood wasn’t built for the heat, unlike the man downstairs whose complexion indicated he hailed from the tropics. Quite lucky that he’d come along, even if it meant they had to do more of a social interaction than they really would have liked at this temperature. Speaking of social interaction, they had heard nothing from him for a few minutes, actually. “Colonel Zhang? Er, James? How is it going down there?” There was no response other than the creaking of the building as the siding expanded in the heat. “James? Are you all right?” Nothing. Had something happened to him? Oh, blast it all. They’d have to go down after him.

They shed their lab coat, having already exchanged their typical black turtleneck for a sleeveless tank in the same colour. They would have to army crawl through the narrow space, something they hoped never to have had to do, but they wouldn’t leave a patient to die under the clinic. Especially in this heat, corpses smell. The air was thick and sweat bloomed on their skin in uncomfortable places, but they didn’t have to go as far as they’d thought they would before finding the young colonel lying motionless in front of the electrical box. “James? Can you hear me?” Nothing. Heat stress, most likely. With luck, he’d only fainted for a moment, but it was possible it was more serious. They pushed their glasses up onto their nose, trying to see how far along he’d got before succumbing to the heat. Was it really just this last switch that needed to be flipped? He’d done a rather good job…

With the aircon humming again, they carefully dragged the unconscious man back toward the opening to the clinic. It was fortunate that they had prepared a large quantity of medical-grade ice in anticipation of needing to treat things like this (and also to keep themselves cool). It would make it much easier to get his body temperature down quickly rather than having to wait for things to chill and for the air to cool. They heaved his body up onto the exam table (he was lighter than they’d anticipated) and set to work.

Chilled intravenous fluids were the way to go. The medical freezer had those ready to go as well, and they hung the bag while sorting through the next steps they’d need to take. Ice packs to the areas with large amounts of blood vessels: the armpits, groin, back, and neck. Then there was nothing left to do but monitor his temperature and suppress the shivering if he started before his body temperature dropped enough. They wobbled as they moved to sit down, realising suddenly that they must also be dehydrated. Time for an iced coffee. Perhaps next time they would attempt to use crushed ice like they did in coffeeshops. They didn’t really understand what a “frappucino” was, but people seemed to enjoy them. Just as they had this thought and reached the bottom of the glass, the patient woke with a gasp and a “so cold…” “Ah, there you are. You fell unconscious right before completing your work. How are you feeling?”

He attempted to push himself up on his elbows. “C-cold… sorry, I can… f-finish…” Really. The boy had almost died, and he was thinking about the air conditioning.

They pressed him back down. “You shall do nothing of the sort. The machine is running now, regardless. Rest until you have been properly hydrated, yes?” James nodded and allowed them to remove the ice packs. The Doctor handed him a safety cup of lemonade and a hand fan, and went to go sit back down. If this heat wave continued, this wouldn’t be the last time they had to do this treatment. taglist: @i-eat-worlds

[toxic-ship-tournament]

ROUND 1 / SIDE B / POLL 1

Ve’Qren x Lohl ( @zillastar13 ) vs Res x Leo ( @adanaac )

who makes up your ship?:

Ve'Qren x Lohl

why does your ship deserve to be considered the most toxic?:

Ve'Qren is a vampyr posing as an ancient pagan god to take advantage of the human sacrifices being preformed by the society he's deceiving. He's a manipulative and charismatic false god. Within two nights in his role, he has murdered a willing sacrifice, tortured a doubtful priest to set an example, and had highly dubiously consensual sex with Lohl. Lohl is the human high priest and wants nothing more than to serve to gods. He's utterly loyal, the sweetest thing, and easy to control. If Ve'Qren wants to drain someone of their blood, Lohl will find someone eager. If Ve'Qren wants to torture a priest, Lohl will watch reverently. If Ve'Qren wants to violate Lohl's celibacy vows, who is Lohl to stop him? They are a shining example of toxic relationships, and it's only a matter of time until Ve'Qren does something to keep Lohl, the object of his intense obsession, to himself. (Maybe even turning Lohl and letting him in on the ruse)

ship tags/playlists/pinterest boards?:

They're characters in my ongoing whump series. All of the chapters are linked in my pinned, but to start: Chapter one: https://www.tumblr.com/zillastar13/709917930705551360/blood-sacrifices The chapter where they get together: https://www.tumblr.com/zillastar13/713262473598386176/blood-sacrifices-part-five

****

who makes up your ship?:

Res and Leo.

why does your ship deserve to be considered the most toxic?:

Leo can’t remember anything that has happened to him before the age of twelve. All anyone knows is that he was in an accident that should have killed him, then he returned with an indestructible body and a void where his personality should be. He cannot comprehend good or evil, does not understand the concept known as ‘choice’, and cannot envision an existence where Res isn’t his Master. He imprinted onto Res the moment he met the other man and pushed himself into Res’ life without considering whether or not Res might want it. His first Master did not pass, he simply changed how he looked, and what he looks like now is Res. Period. He has nothing to offer, nothing to say, no emotions and no heart to give. All he knows are the facts, and the facts tell him that there is no Leo without Res. So he’ll make sure that there’s no Res without Leo. Res has always been very into science, but he isn’t too fond of how there are a bit too many restrictions on the experiments he can perform, and he’s even less fond of how they die whenever he tries some of his more ‘exciting’ stuff. Thankfully he has Leo, his little obedient puppy who will obey his every word and donate his body for research. Of course, he’s never asked him whether he was okay with that, but signing a consent form is so old school. He believes that we should be doers, not dreamers, and he’s always wanted to see what the insides of Leo’s body looked like. And all the resistance it’s putting up just makes it all the more exciting. Leo spells unending excitement, and that’s all the reason Res needs to make sure no one else has him. Res is life, but he is not Leo’s purpose for living, because Leo has not questioned whether or not life has a purpose. He doesn’t need to. Res is Leo’s Master, and Leo’s Master is the very concept of life itself. Without his Master, the earth does not spin, and the sun does not shine. Why would it be anything else? Leo is not a person, he is Res’ dream. The dream of a creature that would do nothing but obey his every word, and the dream of an anomaly that he could endlessly explore without an expiration date. A thing that Res will never get bored of. To Res, Leo is just an adorable lab rat who happens to be the only one in the world who can fulfill his dreams. He does not care for Leo, the person, because Leo is not a person, but he does care about Leo, the humanoid playground that belongs to Res, and Res alone. This is love, because love is when someone makes your heart race, and love is when someone makes you feel like you’re free-falling into obsession. Res loves him, loves him, loves him loves him loves himloveshim. Just as we don’t get emotionally attached to the oxygen that keeps our heart beating, Leo does not get emotionally attached to Res, and he doesn’t need to. This isn’t love, it’s something more than that. Love can change, fade and evolve- it’s fickle, fleeting and easily manipulated. What Leo and Res have is a constant. Res belongs with Leo, and Leo belongs with Res. Don’t argue with the facts. Because you’re wrong, and Leo will make sure you know you’re wrong, no matter who you are. It’s a good thing they’re with each other, and no one else. (Leo is Uno's oc, Res is Canada's oc. Above description written by Uno. Canada's description below) They're basically like those AITA stories where both are the asshole and its a good thing they're together and making each other worse. btw Res is the short pink one and Leo is the tall one.

ship tags/playlists/pinterest boards?: