#tw severe burns

[thatonesimp-e]

THE DETECTIVE

Ik it's bad I'll redraw it later to make it better

[peafowl-arethe-best-birds]

Everything burned.

He tried to inhale sharply but heard the air exit through one of the stab wounds in his torso. He sobbed. Everything hurt it hurt so so much it burned.

He kept closing his eyes every time he opened them. The sight of his skin wrinkled and loose and without its feathers made him want to puke. Maybe he already had. Maybe that’s why his throat hurt.

Or maybe it hurt from his screams.

Blindly, he crawled. Every movement jostled broken bones. Skin peeled and wind hit places underneath that should never see the light of day. Only one of his lungs was intact, working overtime to help him breathe through the sobs wracking his body.

Would this ever end? Would he bleed out, skin peeling and red and raw, feathers ash around him? Would he ever see his sister again?

Maybe he didn’t deserve that luxury.

All at once, the world went black.

-o-O-o-

Sochai lurched out of bed, panting and shaking, clutching the blanket to his chest. He pressed it to his mouth to muffle his sobs.

He hated remembering that. He didn’t want to remember that.

He looked at his arms and legs. The magic healing helped. His feathers regrowing helped too. But he could still feel the scars underneath.

He still remembered what it felt like to have his skin fall off.

He pressed his lips together and shook his head. He didn’t want to remember that. He had to try to think about anything other than crawling away from where he should have died.

Sochai sobbed silently, whole but not really. Maybe he left some pieces behind.

When his sister woke up, he’d be fine.

She didn’t need to know about the memories.

[writingphoenix]

Let me know your thoughts and also if you or someone you know has been through something like this, feel free to share your experiences. I’m trying to make it as accurate as possible and researching is only getting me so far.

[victusinveritas]

[cantfightmoonlight]

@itsronniebish

The wolf trotted across the Town Green. She had yet to locate Ben's leg, but she hadn't given up hope yet, and the search between that and Meena had kept her preoccupied. She was searching for Dhruv too, if only for Kitty and his family's sake, but given the way Nico seemed to adamantly sigh whenever his name was mentioned, she found herself not looking as hard to find the drama king wolf as she probably should. Though, her version of 'hardly searching' was still likely more than most.

She hadn't returned back to her place since the night at the Pendulum. The only time she had spent in human form had been the short stint she had taken at the Wolf Den to let Nico stitch up her cheek and, as soon as he was done, they were back out in the woods, searching all over again. The burned scar on full display both in wolf form and now, as she transformed back behind a nearby bush, tossing the oversized hoodie she had stashed there over her head so that she wouldn't be stark naked as she made her way, barefoot, across the street. Without a word, she threw her arms around Ronnie and pulled the vampire in for a tight hug. She knew she likely smelled strongly of pine needles right about now from her job through the forest, and maybe some dirt, but she hoped Ronnie didn't mind, since currently, all she wanted to do was stay just like this. Her face burying into the petite vampire's neck.

[wizardnuke]

i understand this is like. objectively a wild thing to bitch about when yr average woman wants to lose weight but it is really so fucking bizarre and disheartening to be asked "how are you so skinny how do you do it" by women who are really honestly beautiful and healthy and i am genuinely so jealous of their bodies' ability to maintain some semblance of body fat. i have to say "i wish i weighed more" and they look at me like i'm crazy and then i have to say "every time i manage to gain 5-10lbs i inexplicably get really sick and lose all the weight i gained and it's a vicious cycle of never really feeling healthy" and that's not the answer they want to hear and they still don't understand why i want to gain weight and like. hhhh. makes me sad. i love you you're so pretty and i am chronically ill

[justbreakonme]

Whumpee has no idea how long they’ve been in the shower.

They should get out, dry off, and go to bed. Stop wasting precious water and time staring holes through the white tile wall.

But the pain is unbearable.

The only thing that had helped so far was aiming the blistering water at their aches and pains. They weren’t sure if the heat helped soothe them or simply gave them a different pain as a distraction, one they could control.

Time was running out, and so was the hot water. Any minute now Caretaker would be at the door, scolding them for wasting all the water.

Just one more minute, they thought over and over again, just another minute then I’ll be fine.

On the other side of the bathroom door was a bed that would hurt to lay in, sheets too hot and too cold at the same time, and hours of silent stillness.

They wanted to sleep. God, they needed to so badly, but it hurt too much. Every time they moved, no matter how they laid or sat or stood…pain.

They clung to fleeting moments of moderate comfort, where they could position themselves just right. But it never lasted.

A timid knock brought them out of their spiral.

“Whumpee? Are you okay in there?”

The question made tears form in their eyes.

No, no they weren’t, why did everything hurt to much? How could they be in so much pain?

“Yes, I’m just getting out of the shower…”

[comfortlesshurt]

brutally reminded that somewhere out there is a physical copy of an absolutely terrible detective conan genderbend au i wrote when i was like 12

i am not thriving today so here's a tag rant

[voidfragments]

ok but i actually have sm to say about qi rong's relationship with anger. i could honestly just link a fic i wrote about it here bc i think i worded it better there than i ever can again but my ao3 links to my main twt and i prefer to keep rp stuff separate from my personal stuff for reasons sooooo lemme try to write it differently

cw for mentions of domestic violence bc holy shit like 99% of his character traces back to that in some way

the key thing is, of course, that anger is a trauma response for qi rong. he has every reason to be fucking pissed at like, all times, but fundamentally, his anger is not rational. rage and violence are all he knows! his earliest childhood memories are of being abused and seeing his mother be abused! even when he got out of that, he and his mother were bullied and ostracized, and his mother was eventually murdered. violence and cruelty shape his early childhood and in turn shape who he is today (enabled in large part by the queen's reluctance to properly discipline him when he began exhibiting cruel behavior himself).

in many cases, it's about revenge--getting "even", though he usually takes it much farther than the original offense. his father was abusive? he'll delight in warring against people from the same town as him. the yong'an rebellion tore away the one good thing he had in his life--his royal status? he'll crush their entire royal & noble classes in a single night. xie lian fell off the pedestal he held him on, "failed" and "abandoned" him? unforgivable.

very often, it's simply lashing out. the world has been cruel to him, so he'll be cruel too.

mostly, though, his anger just keeps him going. if he doesn't have his anger, then what does he have? sadness, loneliness, despair, heartbreak, misery.

being a ghost adds another angle to it, too--he can't let go of his anger, even if he wants to. well, he could, but then he'd disappear, and he doesn't want that. not yet. it's his source of life. it's also his source of power! and it's easy to forget with how often the rest of the cast and the narrative itself dunks on him, but he has a lot of power. #4 in the entire ghost realm! a near-supreme, one successful furnace trip away from becoming a full-fledged ghost king!

just--imagine, for a moment, being him. an abused kid--powerless--who suddenly learns that he's actually a prince--powerful!--and then, before even reaching adulthood, his kingdom crumbles, and he eventually dies just as powerless as he started. and then all that resentment causes him to come back even more powerful than before. it's no wonder he leans into it.

idk this is getting long-winded but i guess what i'm trying to say is--his anger is both justified and overblown, it is both understandable and irrational, it is something he needs to hold onto no matter how much it hurts him. he is his anger.

[another-whump-sideblog]

Jane’s Pets Chapter 80: Violence

Tws in the tags

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“I bet you feel real brave right now. Really tough. I bet you feel like your time away made you stronger, better at taking pain. It’s going to be so fun to prove you wrong. Kneel.”

You kneel on instinct. You could stand back up, just to be defiant, but you decide against it.

“I’m going to kill you.” You tell her.

“No, you’re not. I have tried for millennia to find a way around my immortality, and you think that you can do what I couldn’t do within just a couple years of meeting me? No. I’m going to kill you. Liam, Ethan, whoever you think you are. I’m going to kill you and leave my Bunny walking around in your corpse. And then I’ll kill Bunny too, once I get bored of him.”

…She knows the name Ethan. No one called you that while she was there. Or… while you knew she was there.

She tilts your chin up with her finger, and you don’t fight it. “Any last words?”

“You’re going to pay for what you’ve done to us.”

She laughs. “I’m glad to see you’re still my stupid Bunny. And you’ll be all sweet and scared for me again within a matter of hours, too. Take off your shirt.”

Disobeying might get the others hurt, and it’s not worth that. You obey.

Jane’s eyes immediately go to your brand, slightly marred by you scratching the skin off during one particularly intense freak out.

“Ah. That’ll need a touch up. Come on, you know where the room with the table is.”

She vanishes. Yes, you know where that room is. You could never forget the room where you were branded and waterboarded in.

You pull yourself to your feet. You don’t want to be branded again, obviously, but you don’t have much of a choice. You could stand here and wait for her to come back and drag you down the hall by your hair. You could run and run and run until you passed out and she’d drag you right back. You could stay under magical protection for months and months and she’d still find you. And you’d get hurt worse for disobeying, and people you love would get hurt worse because you disobeyed…

You knew this was going to happen. It’s worth it, because you would’ve gotten hurt eventually anyway, and at least this time you learned from it. You saw how her healing powers work. It’s worth it. This is worth it. You walk down the hall and into the horrible room.

Jane stares at your from across the room, silent. You lie down on the table without being prompted. It’s going to hurt anyway, there’s no reason to make it worse.

“What a good boy you are. Even after trying to kill me. You’ve never been hard to keep in line, huh?”

She circles the table slowly, approaching your left arm. “No, not my Bunny. I’ll tell you what- I’m not going to bring Puppy or Kitty down here at all until you’re mine again. Until you’ve forgotten the names I don’t want you to remember and look at me with the terror you used to. I don’t want you to obey me just to protect them, not when I’m training you up all over again. I want you to obey because you know you’re too weak to take punishment. How does that sound?”

“…That sounds great, Master.” You really mean it. Now you’ll only have to worry about yourself.

You still won’t disobey just for the sake of disobeying, of course. But if you see another possible way to kill her or even hurt her, you’ll take it with hesitation. It’s only your health that’s on the line, and you’ll be dying soon anyway. Plus, the longer you stay down here, the longer Kit and Dollie won’t have to worry about punishment.

Jane straps down your arms, legs, and neck. You stare at the ceiling, trying to summon the numbness you’ve been feeling for so long after she killed your friends, your saviors, in front of you. You can’t.

You should be numb. You shouldn’t be able to feel afraid, this isn’t right.

Oh god. Oh god, she’s going to brand you. She’s going to brand you again.

“Wait- I’m sorry-“ You hear the crackle of fire. “Wait, please, I’m sorry, I didn’t ruin the brand on purpose! I know I belong to you, I know I’m your puppet, please-“

“Shh. Look at you, I haven’t even hurt you yet and you’re begging for mercy. Do you still feel tough? Do you still feel like you could kill me?”

You try to follow Jane with your eyes as she gets closer, struggling to see her with your neck strapped down. You can’t see the branding iron, but you can already feel the radiating heat.

No, no, you don’t want to feel this! Why are losing the numbness now?

“I didn’t- I wasn’t in my right mind- please, Master! I learned, I understand, killing them was enough, I won’t say the names you don’t want me to say, I’ve learned, I’m sorry!”

Jane is laughing, and you can feel the heat of the branding iron getting closer and closer. Jane presses it right on top of the old scar.

It burns, worse than anything you’ve ever experienced, worse than the first time she branded you. It hurts, it hurts, why won’t it stop? So hot it’s cold and so cold it loops back around to being hot again.

You can’t breathe. You can’t think.

You’d forgotten how horrible being tortured is. How could you forget? You dreamt about it nearly every night, the threat of it was constantly weighing on you, and you still managed to forget how bad this truly is.

You would do anything to make it stop. Anything, anything, anything. You’re not strong. You’re not a protector. Just a weak little Bunny, like Jane says.

“I’m sorry!” You gasp. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please!”

Jane sets the branding iron down. “Liam… Liam, did you miss me?”

Can’t think, can’t breathe, you’re dying you’re dying you’re sorry you didn’t mean it, Master please!

“Oh, poor weak little thing. If only you’d been good, I wouldn’t have to do this.”

The smell, the taste of your burnt flesh is in the air. Your eyesight is too blurry to see what Jane’s doing, your ears are ringing too much to understand what she’s saying.

She lets you cry for a while longer. You decide she’s upstairs checking on the others, because the alternative is that she’s preparing something even worse and you cannot go through something worse.

It’s never going to end, is it? She’s right, you can’t kill her. It’s just going to keep going and going and going until she decides to make it stop.

The pain doesn’t fade, it just changes. Aren’t you supposed to stop feeling it after so long? Why won’t it stop? Why can’t you go numb or pass out, all you want is for it to stop, that’s all you want, that’s all you’ve ever wanted, please, please!

Jane swipes tears from your face. “That’s enough, come on. Liam, Ethan, look at me.”

You turn your head as far as you can towards her voice, but your neck is still strapped down and there’s only so much you can do.

She holds up a small square of fabric, about the size of her palm.

There’s a lighter in her other hand. She lights the fabric on fire and flicks it onto your chest.

“Did you know some fabrics will melt to the skin when burned?”

She’s held a lighter to your skin before, she’s branded you, she’s left you in the heat room to lie on burning hot concrete when you could barely move. You’ve been burned before, and usually over a much larger area.

That doesn’t make this hurt any less. It feels like lava has been poured onto your skin.

It feels like you skin is melting. Skin doesn’t melt, it cooks, Jane told you that once, but you’re having a very hard time believing that right now. Jane’s a liar anyway.

It won’t stop. It won’t ever stop.

Jane tugs on your hair. “Hey. I have a choice for you, Liam.” She’s holding something. You can’t tell what, you’re crying too hard. “You can open your mouth and let me take out one of your molars with some pliers, or you can keep your mouth closed and I’ll hammer at your mouth until something comes out. What do you think?”

The sound that comes out of your mouth is truly pitiful. You haven’t whimpered like that in a long time.

Your chest and arm are still sending radiating heat throughout your body and it /hurts/ and you don’t know if you /can/ keep your mouth open for long enough if there’s pliers in there yanking, but you definitely don’t want her to hit your face with a hammer.

You probably wouldn’t be able to keep your mouth closed, either, with all the screaming you’ve been doing. So you leave your mouth open.

She shoves grimy pliers into your mouth, leaving you tasting long-dried blood and trying not to choke or gag.

She draws it out, because of course she does. Gripping the tooth she chose tightly, she pulls it out agonizingly slowly. Little bits of the tooth break off onto your tongue.

There is no way out. If you try to distract yourself from the pain in your mouth, your focus is pulled to the burning in your arm and chest. Your wrists and ankles have rope burns, and your head is hurting in the way it always does before it gets /really/ bad, and there is no escape. Nothing you can see or hear or taste or smell or feel will bring you any relief.

When she’s finally done, she drops the tooth on your tongue. “Swallow it.”

You do. It’s actually a lot less painful now that the tooth is gone. The empty space hurts, but not as bad as the tooth being pulled did. And the amount of blood you swallow is more gross than swallowing the tooth, so that’s not a very big deal.

Jane releases the restraints keeping you on the table. You don’t sit up, you don’t want to move if you don’t have to.

Jane squeezes your shoulder. “What do you think they’d be doing right now, if you hadn’t gotten them killed?”

Your stomach drops.

“They’d be perfectly content and happy, right? Because for all the times they claimed that they knew the risks and you were worth it, ultimately they would be happier- and alive- if they’d never met you. You got them tortured and killed. They sacrificed their lives for you, and look at you… do you think it was worth it? Was their sacrifice worth it?”

You sob. Anything but this. You’d rather feel anything but this. “St-stop- I already know it’s my fault, I already know, please stop, please.”

“Just answer my question. Do you think their sacrifice was worth it?”

You shake your head. You don’t want to feel this, don’t want to think about this. Now the pain in your body is a mercy, keeping you from sinking too deep into the grief that will kill you when you fully feel it. Not yet. You can’t do this yet.

“You ruined their lives.”

You cry out as if she’d physically attacked you.

“You were warned. You knew what would happen, and you decided you were worth more than them.”

“No!”

“No? You were constantly afraid of me taking you back. You always knew it was a possibility, and you always knew what was going to happen to your friends if I did find you. You just… didn’t care enough about them. You weren’t willing to sacrifice for them, when they sacrificed everything for you. You never even considered giving yourself back to me willingly. And I would’ve let them go if you did, pet. They only died because you made the choice, day after day, to put them in danger.”

You clamp your hands over your ears. “Stop! Anything but this, please, please just burn me or cut me, please, anything but this!”

Your hands aren’t enough to block her laughter out. She grabs your arm and presses down hard on your brand, making your vision go dark for a moment. But only a moment. There’s no escaping this.

“Get up. I don’t want to hear anymore complaining after you just begged me to hurt you.”

You nod and scramble off the table.

“Do you want the crowbar or the whip?” She tugs you out of the room, still squeezing your branded arm.

“Whatever you think is best, Master.” She’ll do both anyway. Best to just make a show of obedience, after she agreed to hurt you in the way she asked. It’s the most mercy you’ll get.

“Well, if you say so. Kneel.”

You kneel. Immediately, a whip cracks against your back, and you yelp. It feels like a trail of fire down your back. “Sorry, sorry, I’m not complaining- I’m sorry.”

“Oh, you can scream. Just don’t beg for it to stop.”

“Yes, Master.” You choke out. It hurts, it hurts!

The whip strikes you again. Oh, everything hurts, your head aches and your mouth aches and your arm and back and chest burn, but the cold weight that had settled in your chest is gone. You couldn’t think about them if you wanted to. You can barely think at all.

Crack. Another strike. Your throat hurts from screaming and you try not to gag on your blood.

Crack. “Liam.” She says. “Liam.”

Crack. “Ethan.”

You push down the desire to beg. You asked for this.

Crack. “Kit.”

You think this might be the most physical pain you’ve ever been in. You think that pretty often, though.

Crack. “Dollie.”

Your body is screaming at you to move. You know that won’t help, but you feel the need to move like the need to breathe, and staying still makes you feel like there’s bugs wriggling beneath your skin.

Crack. You scream. Fuck, fuck, it burns and aches and stings and she’s opening up old wounds that had finally, finally healed and you can’t beg for it to stop and you can’t move away but you also can’t keep getting hurt and you’re trapped and there’s nothing you can do-

Crack. “Ethan.”

You dig your fingernails into your thighs. Don’t beg, don’t move, don’t fight. You’ll forget the names faster this time, which will hopefully make it shorter. She’s just got to trigger the fear of thinking those names back into effect, instead of creating the fear from scratch.

Crack. “Kit.”

You scream and scream. The pain feels… deserved, after what Jane said about you not caring enough.

Crack. “Dollie.”

The pain drags you out of that train of thought, thank god.

Crack. “Liam.”

Why is all the pain so hot? You hope Jane will put you in the cold room after this. Your insides and outsides are all burning and you just want it to stop-

Don’t beg. Don’t move. Don’t fight.

Crack. “Ethan.”

It’ll end eventually. It always ends eventually. Don’t beg. Don’t move. Don’t fight.

Crack. “Kit.”

Don’t beg.

Crack. “Dollie.”

Don’t move.

Crack. “Liam.”

Don’t fight. It’ll end. It’ll end eventually.

~~

Kitty is not doing well at all.

Puppy is worried, so so worried. They aren’t thinking straight, they don’t know what they’re doing, they’re going to get put in sensory deprivation for months and months again and there’s nothing she can do.

Kitty is slamming their fists against the basement door, screaming for Jane to stop hurting Bunny. Jane will consider it defiance if she finds out, and Kitty will get hurt. But Jane doesn’t have to find out.

She can’t be in multiple places at once, and the screaming from the basement is distant enough that Puppy knows Jane and Bunny are deep in the basement. Deep enough to maybe not hear what Kitty’s doing.

If Jane asks what happened today, Puppy will tell her what happened. But if Jane doesn’t ask, and then reveals she was watching the whole time and is mad at Puppy for keeping a secret, Puppy can say she assumed Jane heard it, and why would she tell her something she already knew?

Puppy can stop this. She can stop Kitty getting hurt, this time, if she can just get them to behave.

The door is not locked, and Puppy needs to stop them before they realize that and charge into the basement.

She’s tried dragging Kitty away, but she hasn’t eaten today and they have, so they have the advantage, even while drugged. She’s tried distracting them, but their focus does not waver. It’s hard to distract someone when you can’t talk, anyway.

Puppy is getting desperate. Jane could notice their yelling any minute. They know this will get them hurt, why are they doing this to her?

…to themself.

She grabs them by the arm and tries to yank them away from the door, but they don’t budge and easily squirm out of her grasp.

She has to stop them. She has to stop them right now, even if that takes drastic action, because nothing she can do will hurt nearly as bad as being tortured.

She slaps them, hard, across the face.

At this, they go still. They stop yelling. Slowly, they raise a hand to their cheek. “…You hit me?”

Their eyes, slightly unfocused, are full of betrayal. Puppy looks away.

“Oh. Oh, Jane told you to do that. Sorry, my brain… sorry. Jane told you to hurt me to keep me complaint if she wasn’t there… and I’ve been good, so it hasn’t come up until now. I understand.”

They gently cup Puppy’s face in their hands so that they’re making eye contact. “I know you hate… y’know. Hurting people. I’m sorry. I’ll be good, so you… you don’t have to, because you always feel so- so sad after she makes you.”

They let go of Puppy and collapse on the couch. Hopefully they’ll get some sleep.

Tears sting Puppy’s eyes. She shouldn’t have done that. There’s an understanding, between them, that they’d never hurt each other without being forced. Jane’s tried to trick them into thinking the other was hurting them by choice over and over, and it never worked. Because they knew Jane, and they knew each other.

She just hit one of the two people she cares most about in the entire world. She just broke a trust that was built over countless torture sessions, that held on no matter what. Someone she loves was going through something and instead of trying to help them she hit them.

Except it wasn’t instead of. That was the only way she could help, and it worked. A slap is nothing compared to what Jane would’ve done to them.

She regrets hitting Kitty. She really, really does. But it worked. Kitty is safe. And she will suffer any amount of guilt to keep them safe. She will let them believe a lie if it keeps them safe. She will hurt them without being forced if it keeps them safe.

Besides, it’s not that different from if Jane said “hit them or I’ll torture them.” Jane didn’t say it, but that was still the choice she had. It was still forced, right? It was still forced. She didn’t break their trust.

Puppy takes a blanket and drapes it over Kitty as they sleep on the couch. Puppy thinks they look different when they’re asleep, vulnerable and sad in a way they never are while their awake.

Yes, Puppy will do whatever she has to to protect them. Sometimes that will be violence. It doesn’t matter. Keeping them safe is worth any price she could pay.

A/N: Let me know if I should tag anything else!

Tag list: @eatyourdamnpears @whump-in-the-closet @scp-1296 @fuzzybucketz @quins-whump-stuff

[wazzappp]

anGR RE7 au part two electric boogaloo

(Edit: OUTDATED. I have since remade this au)

part 1

Robbie thinks he’s protecting himself and Gabe by not telling the BSAA, but they totally already know they're both infected. Mandatory blood tests revealed incredibly high concentrations of the mold in both of them. Sidenote with the blood testing: Robbie would absolutely use the fuck out of the psychostimulants. In the game they reveal hidden loot so I think that would translate to hyper-vigilance and oh jeez would he use the hell out of that in a survival horror situation. But what the fuck are the psycho stimulants? Addaral? Meth? COCAINE? Idk dude but I think it would be funny as fuck for a scientist to go “Yeah with this mold concentration he should have mutated into a horrifying monster by now and he hasn’t but WHY THE FUCK HAS HE TAKEN ENOUGH COKE TO KILL A HORSE?” Anyway, tangent over. 

The BSAA has decided to just observe for now. They briefly considered separating them just because Gabe’s virus concentrations of the mold were significantly lower than Robbies, and then remembered that Robbie just single handedly fought through what would have killed two of their teams. If they wanted to try and take Gabe away they should be ready to lose an entire compound of men. Besides, the kid is like a built-in handler for them. He makes Robbie happy, keeps him wanting to be as human as possible, and most importantly keeps him fucking docile. The havoc someone who just cant fucking die (along with probable other powers) would be able to wreak… better to just keep them together.

And the most annoying part for Robbie is that they are probably right. Gabe is his tether to humanity in this AU as much as he is in canon. The hive mind aspect of the mold could make it incredibly easy for Robbie to lose himself without someone to center him. Gabe keeps him focused on things like; needing to eat, needing to drink water, needing to breathe (his skin isn't actually skin, just a mold approximation of it so he doesn't technically need lungs). On that note, after receiving a lot of damage Robbie looks significantly less human. The mold and his subconscious are no longer focused on blending in, but on healing themselves and attacking the threat. Places where scars from past injuries at the Baker house are most apparent usually start to turn black and spiderweb out, along with whatever area received damage. It takes a few hours and a feeling of safety to go back to normal.

I've been thinking about how to fit Lisa into this au because I really like her, and I'm thinking she should be a scientist. She's sent once or twice a month to collect blood samples from both of them to monitor their health. At first Robbie does not trust her in the slightest. The mold is still at work combined with his traumatic experiences and she is very much an intruder from an organization he does not trust. Gabe is an entirely different case. His mind isn't as influenced as Robbies and he still desires more social interaction than he's presently getting (hence talking to the mold in the walls like I said on my previous dump) So he's also skeptical about Lisa at first but warms up to her pretty quick. She doesn't get annoyed when he asks her about her cool equipment like some of the other people who come by, and she actually talks to him like a person. 

Goldendaydna made a BEAUTIFUL suggestion for getting Robbie to trust Lisa more quickly and it translated into my brain as this so here is how their first meeting goes: Lisa comes in early in the morning and introduces herself as a doctor from the BSAA here to make checkups on them. Both of the brothers are pretty suspicious and really don't trust her. But she explains that she's just here to take a few samples and run some cognitive tests while she's emptying out her bag. She sees Gabe eyeing the equipment and starts to explain what each thing does while taking it out. Robbie is straight up not letting Gabe even get close to any of that shit and staring daggers at Lisa but she says she can't leave until these tests are completed. She basically just sits in the kitchen refusing to leave. Hours later Gabe finally gets too curious to leave her be, and starts talking to her while Robbie is outside cooling off. She's been making attempts at small talk all morning and every time Robbie ignores her she writes a fucking memo in her stupid little notebook who the hell does she even think sHE IS GOD DAM- anyway. Gabe agrees to do some bloodwork after she offers to show him how her equipment works. She seems nice and what she's talking about isn't scary at all! The mold in the house lets him know what's happening and Robbie just BOOKS it back inside while tendrils of black start to creep out the crevices of the walls. Lisa gets that she is very clearly not welcome and puts her hands up while still holding her notepad “Ok, ok I get it. I’ll leave.” She takes a look at Gabe, who is currently hiding behind Robbie looking very worried and sets her notebook down on the table with the rest of her equipment. Then takes a couple steps back towards the door. “Don't worry, I won't tell them about all” she gestures at the walls “this. If you want a different doctor the BSAA will send one in.” she says, trying to defuse the situation because there is a very angry Bioweapon in front of her right now. And Robbie actually manages to think through the overprotective moldy haze and realizes that 1. There's no guarantee that she will keep her mouth shut and he can't keep track of that if she goes away forever. 2. Maybe if he’s careful with his words and questions he can try and learn more about him and Gabe's respective infection levels. 3. This is… kind of an overreaction, he can see that. Robbie’s noticed that he's becoming more territorial (he's paranoid not blind) and he very VERY much does not want the mold to affect his mind more than it already has. Maybe she can be practice for not wanting to shove everything that isn't molded out of the house? The mold slowly creeps off the walls and he flops down in a chair and puts his arm on the table basically saying ‘FINE’.

Lisa serves a double purpose; collection of samples and observation as well as socialization. She really did mean it when she said she wouldn't tell the BSAA. Mostly because she doesn't need to, they already know Robbies infected (Robbie just doesn't know that they know oh god it's like a bad detective novel up in my brain rn). But getting the samples at all when her coworkers were expecting extraordinary violence definitely earns her some brownie points at work. Robbie seems perfectly fine keeping his own little world isolated to himself and Gabe, but if he ever begins to feel trapped the BSAA needs to know how safe he is around other people and if the brothers can be reintegrated into less isolated areas. They are mostly concerned with Robbies aggression because.. well… he has shown to be VERY AGGRESSIVE when fighting through the Bakers house (I mean Ethan and by proxy Robbie cut Jack Baker in half with a chainsaw to be fair). 

Because Lisa is more trusted by the brothers, she is often sent ahead of time if someone else needs to come by the house. In this way she acts both as a buffer for the mold's hatred (and subsequently Robbies hatred) of unfamiliar people coming into what is supposed to be a safe place. For example, if the electricity goes out she might show up an hour before the electrician to prepare the boys for someone new arriving. When she shows up they're both just sitting in the dark around a candle with the light reflecting off their eyes lol.

I think with Ethan being trained by the BSAA (probably to be used as an agent) they would probably do the same with Robbie at first. If they can use his brother to keep him under control he could be incredibly effective at neutralizing new bio threats. I think Robbie would be skeptical about what they're training him for but I don't think he would object to learning more about how to defend himself. Eventually I think the BSAA would decide that he's too volatile to be used as an agent… but maybe Gabe could still be useful. It's important to remember the BSAA aren't really evil, but they are desperate and probably corrupt to a certain degree (so..kind of evil? Whatever lol). They're not like the old Umbrella Corporation but they aren't any kind of morally pure. I think they would try and find a way to sedate Robbie so Gabes skills could be freely utilized. 

[petrichormeraki]

this was supposed to be a warm up doodle and i got carried away...anyway these are my tubbo designs

[cuddles-with-dragons]

Inner artist: I'm going to draw something from the Switcheroo AU!

Inner fluff lover: Sweet and wholesome, right?

Inner whump lover: This is going to be as fucked up as possible.

TW: BURNS, IMPLIED TORTURE

Close-ups

Crosshair I'm sorry!

Takes place inbetween War-Mantle and the season finale.

oh shit i actually kinda like sadistic asshole Hunter-

(Dragon AU Hunter can breathe small amounts of fire, so uhhh yeah.)

[truckstoptigers]

when i was seven and our trailer burned down, i thought about leaving my father there, grabbing my brother, and getting us the hell out

i didn't. i ended up waking our father and we all ended up at the neighbors' house

but i should have

i fucking should have

because the minute he had a chance to be alone with me (after we got to my grandma's trailer) guess what he did! shortly after our fucking HOME burned down and the firefighters gave my brother and i teddy bears and wrapped blankets around us for shock!!!!!! fucking christ i hate our father more than anyone on this earth

[edencantstopfallininlove]

Thunderstorms suck. However, they suck a lot less when I can imagine Luke holding me from behind so that I can melt into his touch. He'd graze a hand against my hair and tell me in a gentle purr that it's okay to feel unsettled, and to just breathe. "It's okay, babe. You're safe. I got you."

[ohmeowmy]

h