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yanderemommabean · 4 months

Note

Hey Momma!

I like butterflies, ya got any Yandere Alien Butterfly scenario for me? Or everyone? Cause I'm sure we'd like a nice Yandere Alien Butterfly~ 🦋

“P-Please! Please you have to-Ahh!” You sob, wincing and jerking as more of their invasive fingers inspect your body. It wasn’t a sob of pain either, oh anything but. You’ve been handed over for these insect aliens to inspect as a sort of treaty and well, they’re being /very/ thorough with you.

Their wings flutter here and there as they murmur and whisper to one another, you assume to speak about notes and what they’ve learned but you can’t help but notice the clipboards and tablets have been set aside for over an hour now, and they simply haven’t bothered to test anything more than your limits on pleasure.

Weren’t you supposed to be tested on with other items too? Wasn’t this more or less a death sentence from your oh so cowardly government?

“They react nicely when you press right here-” The one on the left states a bit louder, something you can actually comprehend, but you’re focus is cut off as they demonstrate what they mean-curling their fingers inside you just right and making your body pulse with pleasure once again, your eyes watering as they begin to more or less abuse that spot and make your muscles tense and shake.

You can’t even catch your breath as the one on the right nods their head, but moves to grab something off of the table beside them. “Yes but do you think their anatomy could handle someone of our size? I think this mating tool is about as large as one of us, shall we try it?”

Oh god you can’t even bring yourself to look up. You try to catch your breath while you can, laying back on the cold table bringing you back to your senses even if just slightly. You aren’t sure you want to know just how big that toy could be, your mind would simply break.

“Oh not to worry! They’re quite resilient creatures! But we do have to be careful, I like this one” one says, amused as they grab the item and flick the switch. “We have to be slow, humans can handle sizes better when relaxed and sedated. Our little specimen here should be able to take at least half before we run into any issues”.

Your walls flutter and pulse once again, and you hate your body for being so eager to start after finally catching your breath. It’s as if your instincts are trying to tell you to just lay back and give in, and really, you can’t fight that urge much longer. That buzzing sound only makes your legs want to squeeze together tighter, but not out of fear this time.

Oh you’re slowly becoming a mindless toy yourself aren’t you?

When the head of that large toy enters you, your breath catches and it can’t be helped when you arch up and brokenly cry, that stretch seemingly both painful and blissful. That vibration was only making your fingers and toes curl as the two aliens watched with rapt attention, slowly pressing the toy in deeper and deeper, listening to your feeble noises and adorable moans almost nonchalantly.

If it wasn’t for the heady scent in the air and the fact you could see their own members sliding out in arousal, you’d think they were genuinely bored with experimenting with you. You catch a glimpse between weak twists of your body, and those dangerous eyes hold something more primal than they did when you first entered the room.

They were doing this for more than just research, that’s for sure. You’re at their mercy until they get bored, if they even do.

“Go ahead. Climax. We know you have more in you, we’ve studied your vitals and liquids, you aren’t dehydrated yet” the one on the right bites out, eager and needy as he leans forward to turn the toys vibrations up. “You look so good like this, human. Stuffed and needy, begging to be bred and made into the perfect mate. You must feel so neglected if you’re this sensitive to what we use”

You can only manage a whimper, eyes rolling back as your breath catches and that thick, pulsing toy hammers inside of you. It’s no use in fighting it, you couldn’t fight the multiple other attempts either. You cave, body lurching and head lolling back as you cry out and loudly gasp for air, feeling your hole clenching down and trying to make sure that large toy doesn’t leave, milking it for all its worth as you rock your hips to ride out the fifth intense orgasm of the day.

The two butterflies coo and croon in your ear, you think they’re praising you even but everythings so blurry and sounds like it's underwater, you can’t make any of it out.

“Good job human, such a good job. That’s it, deep breaths…When your breathing is back to a stable condition let’s see if we can’t fit in the rest of the device. I’m sure you won’t disappoint us”.

(-Mommabean, hiya! Sorry for any typos! Anyway I hope you enjoyed, feel free to tell me what you thought!)

#yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere exophilia #mommabean #yandere noncon #yandere dubcon #yandere smut #yandere alien bugs #yandere alien butterflies #yandere aliens #yandere butterflies #experimentation tw #experimental torture tw

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deadsetobsessions · 3 months

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Spider in Gotham AU- Pt.2

[Pt.1]

Peter’s no stranger to memories that comes as nightmares. There’s something different to them, the taste of terror that’s tinged with a feeling of “that’s happened.”

Flashes of Aunt May, dying as he stood next to her while choosing the city over her? Old hat. Inky darkness surrounding MJ falling as Peter reached for her, over and over again? Been there, seen that, didn’t even get a sick scar out of it. Racing against the clock to defeat some bad guy or an unknown threat? That’s his Thursday.

But this?

This isn’t his. It’s real, Peter could tell that much. Sure, it’s wrapped up in silk hisses and heart crushing terror, but Peter could always tell whether a nightmare was a nightmare or whether it was a memory.

This was a memory. Not his. His. It’s complicated.

“Your father, papito, he-,”

Then, it’d be the ruffle of his hair, brown eyes. It reminded him of his mom. But the crease of these eyes were different. Hardened, mean. Even towards him.

“Well, he said no, but I knew what he really wanted.”

The base of Peter’s neck always crawled when he remembered that line. His spider-sense warned him that whatever he’s remembering, he would not like.

“Ey, Peter.”

“Huh?” Peter blinked, looking up from where his arms were elbow deep in wires.

“Don’cha need gloves with that?” Frank asked, munching on some jerky. They were sitting in the living room, repairing a TV and a washer Frank had somehow managed to lug back to the apartment. It’s a toss up between Frank’s network of orphans (Peter included), street rats (these things are not mutually inclusive), or his own slightly higher than average strength. Not that they needed to thrift broken things, considering Peter’s funneling money from offshore bank accounts belonging to this America’s 1%. They just made it so easy! He and Ned had been hacking into government bases in middle school back on his world. This world? Not even a challenge. Regardless, this was kind of like… Frank’s version of those fancy sensory boxes for Peter.

“Oh, no. It’s not plugged in, see?”

“How’re ya gunna know it works then?”

“Plug it in after I’m done. Turn it off and on, you know?”

Frank stared at him, then rolled his eyes towards the ceiling.

“If you burn down that portion of the house, at least we’ll be warm for a bit.”

“Thanks. Your confidence in me is astounding.”

“You talk like an old man.”

“I do not! Excuse you! If I’m old, you’re the expired knock off cup ramen in the back of a convenience store!”

“Yo, shrimpy, that’s rude, ya hear?” Frank snickered, impressed at the quip. The Alley kid turned brother stood up to plop next to Peter.

“So… you gonna go…?” Frank made a whooshing sound and held his hand in a web shooter position.

“Tonight? Prolly. Anything I should look out for?”

“You’re gunna get yourself killed, but yeah, heard the gang’s back up north.”

Peter flashed a smile, dimples coming out. “I’ll try not to. Thanks, Frank.”

“Anytime, Spidey.”

Frank, though little (to Peter), was a good friend. Then again, considering Peter saved his ass both in mask and out of it, it’s to be expected. One would think that after eight years of hiding his identity, Peter would be better at it. Then, he got punted into a different world and got made by a child.

To be fair, the circumstances all but screamed Parker Luck, so Peter’s not counting this instance.

See, the first few days of this sudden cohabitation, Peter had asked Frank to find them furniture. Both because he was getting real sick of eating on the floor and because Peter needed to fix his suit to match his much younger body. Then, once he readjusted the shrinking nanotech and the spider legs to fit him in a way that wouldn’t break him, Peter had promptly swung out of the building and went patrolling. He stuck with the wandering Frank, taking out muggers and robbers and everything in between and past that around the area where Frank is.

Looking back, Peter realized how lucky he was when he decided to go on the “helping joyride” at the beginning of the evening. His spider-sense activated way later in the night, the moment where he began seeing and sensing the cameras that kept pointing towards him. He ducked and dodged out of the way, and eventually, the feeling left. Somebody was watching. And he doesn’t know where they stood on the moral side of things.

Anyways, it happened after three weeks and a half of going out and just… settling into life in Gotham. He had already been struggling to find a way home, scouring the libraries around Gotham on any subject that would aid in his multiversal travel. Peter would like to know which emo kid named this city.

Eventually, Parker Luck decided to strike once more.

“Get back, freak!” The lady brandished a wicked knife.

Talk about deja vu.

“Oh no! Knives! My greatest weakness!” Spider-Man yelled, sticking to the shadowed windows as he let his voice echo in the alley. Gotham had a lot of nice hiding places. Spider-man dropped down on her head like a bat out of hell and webbed the knife out of her hands. He webbed the mugger up onto the alleyway above normal reach, and told the man to call the police.

Frank screamed, just as Spider-man wrapped it up, loud enough to reach his enhanced hearing.

“Wait-!” The man tried to stop him, but Peter, small, trained, and having readjusted his reach, slipped away.

“What’s your name?!” The guy he saved yelled at his back.

Spider-man, distracted, yelled back, “SPIDEY!”

He shot webs upwards and used them to slingshot his way towards where Frank was. And… car! Peter used his webs to swing up, up, and let himself fall to gain momentum. At the last moment, Peter shot a web to the top of the car and pulled himself to it.

Shit, shit, shit. He’s stupidly attached to the kid, and he was stupid enough to let Frank go out into Gotham looking both well-fed and well clothed.

The world slowed as he locked eyes with a terrified Frank, who was getting dragged into a car.

The world narrowed to speed and Spider-Man landed on top of the car roof, sweeping his leg out and thankfully remembering his much shorter reach. His foot collided with the kidnapper’s face with the equivalent force of a grown up, slightly annoyed Peter Parker who’s letting his strength go a bit unchecked. Basically, they went flying, blood spewing out of the undoubtedly broken nose Spider-Man had just given them.

Standing on business, the shorter webster promptly flipped down wards as he all but glued the would-be kidnapper to the curb.

“You alright?”

“You’re- You’re that new mask.” Frank whispered, scuttling away from the car where he’d been dropped.

“Yeah, man. You okay?” His voice modulator came in clutch.

“Fuck. Fuck, I gotta-” Frank stumbled. The kid looked like he was one bad break away from snapping. Peter hated it when kids got that terrified look on their faces, it reminded him of himself, helpless as Ben bled out because they should never have to fear something that much.

Something’s wrong, though. As much as Peter wished otherwise, Frank was a Gotham bred and true alley kid, through and through. These kids don’t spook easily. Peter already stopped a couple of kidnappings and at least two of the kids had yelled at him to stay out of the way before unloading a rain of nut kicks on their kidnappers that left Peter wincing for days in sympathy. Frank being this spooked? Something’s going on.

“Woah, easy there, I’m not gonna hurt you,”

Frank shot him a half hysterical, half condescending look. Yeah, that’s more like it.

“Ob-obviously. I have to go before more of them comes,” Frank muttered.

“More of them? You know what they want?”

Frank stared at him, looking up and down at his blue, red, and gold ensemble.

“I can help,” Peter promised.

“What’re your thoughts on metas?”

Suspicious.

“Uh, they’re fine? Depends on the person, why?”

Frank sighed. The skinny teenager, barely 14, tugged at his hair. “They’re traffickers. Meta kids, mostly, so the Bats don’t do nothing. I- uh, I got caught.” He held up a thin wrist, showing Peter his new accessorie, a think metal bracelet that was beeping red.

Peter cursed in his head. Fuck, of course he’d stumble into a-

“Caught? You’re a meta?”

Frank nodded. “Strength. This is an inhibitor, illegal kind, you know?”

Well, that explained how he got all of those furniture without struggle.

“Right. Hey, don’t stress, kid, I’m a meta too.”

Frank blinked.

“What?”

Peter walked up the side of the car and did jazz hands.

“You’re a meta?! But- but you’re a mask operating in Gotham!”

“Yeah…? Is that weird?”

Before Frank could reply, Peter’s sense screamed and Spider-Man shoved Frank away from the spray of bullets.

“Move, Frank!”

Peter flipped away, vaguely aware of Frank’s gaping realization. He took down the shooters in quick succession, stopping the speeding car with his bare hands and some webs.

“Shooters, no shooting!” He yelled, liberally applying force he tended to keep under wraps. Frank was like a brother to him, and there is no universe where Peter Parker would hold back when his family was in danger.

When he got back to Frank, who had oddly stayed instead of running, Peter found out why the kid stayed.

“Peter?!” Frank hissed lowly, looking more pissed off than terrified. “Are you fucking insane?! Why are you running ‘round as a mask?!”

“Shhh!” Shit, he got made. “Come on, get back to the apartment and we can talk there. I’ll get rid of this-”

Peter casually snapped the bracelet in half, tearing the tracker out, and tucked it away to study later.

“Fuckin’- shit, fine, but you’re explaining everything, motherfucker!”

They split, Peter guessing correctly that he was in another lecture of a lifetime.

——

“Your vigilante name is Spiderman?”

“Hey, I can hear you say it without the hyphen! There’s a hyphen in there!”

“You’re not a man! You’re a twerp!”

“I’ll show you twerp, you-”

Five minutes of tussling later, in which Peter did not try to bite Frank’s arm off, thank you very much, Frank leaned back on the couch.

“Besides. People in the streets are calling you Spidey, anyways.”

“Spidey?”

“Some dude you saved from a mugging said you told him.”

Peter slammed his head on the floor where he was laying face down.

“Ughhhh.”

——

“He could have been great. I saw his potential.”

Anger. But he shouldn’t be afraid. The woman loved him.

“Hey, Peter. You’re up here again.”

“Hi.” Peter stayed curled up. His mind had refused him sleep for the last three nights, causing dark circles to appear underneath his eyes. The memories of what he assumed to be this world’s Peter was merging with his. What he’d seen so far did not fill him with confidence of a happy childhood. Flashes of wielding weapons, the sterile smell of a metal dissection table, and hundreds and hundreds of spiders crawling over him, getting startled into biting down. Plus, the stress of tracking down the meta trafficking circles in Gotham was no joke. He doesn’t know Gotham nearly as well as he knew New York, and he had to be extra careful running around and trying to catch every bit of the circle before making any moves. Frank was helping with his network of homeless Meta kids, but the traffickers were everywhere except for Crime Alley.

He should be dead. They sold his body to an organ harvester who dumped his venom filled corpse on the side of Gotham. At least he didn’t have to worry about killing his alternate version.

“Everything all right?” Red Robin clambered down to sit next to him, cowl hiding the concerned scrunch of his brow. He’s never seen Peter like this.

Peter grumbled, staring down at another alleyway. He knows his alternate died. His shit excuse for another sold his body to an organ harvester, when he seized on the operating table, who dumped his venom filled corpse on the side of Gotham. At least he didn’t have to worry about killing his alternate version. He does, however, have to worry about missing vital organs.

“I… remembered something.” Peter remembered a lot of things. And pretty much none of them were good. This Peter suffered a lot in his short life.

Red Robin nodded. The issue of Peter’s spotty memories had come up in their discussions over the past month.

“Ah. Something unpleasant?”

Peter thought back to the voice who, despite all of the other, highly traumatic memories, haunted his brain like nothing else.

“He didn’t live up to it. He refused to kill. So I made the decision for him.”

“Yeah. Not for me, but unpleasant that I know about it.”

“Yeah, I get that. You wanna talk about it?” Peter hid a small smile. Even though Red Robin kept his tone light, the concern still bled through. Warm. It made Peter feel warm. Even if it appeared that the Bats don’t really care about the trafficked meta kids… maybe Red Robin would come save normal kid Peter if he got kidnapped. A backup plan to consider. For now…

“Sure,” he said. Red Robin waited patiently.

“I think, I remember someone. Maybe, maybe my…” Peter grimaced. “My mom? She… told me something. And uh, I think I’maproductofrape.”

“Oh,” Red Robin said, so awkwardly that Peter had to crack a small smile despite the gravity of the topic. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. Me too. Not myself, but for…” Peter waved a hand. “You know.”

“Yeah.”

“She wasn’t a good person,” Peter whispered and hated how he missed the browns of her eyes- her middle name was Marie, and god, Peter wished he hadn’t known that because he gets why her eyes reminded him so much of his own mother- and she besmirched everything Mary Parker stood for.

“You have our combined potential, Peter. Make sure not to be like him too much and live up to it, papito.”

“It’s okay, to love her even if she hurt other people,” Red Robin said, gently ruffling his greasy hair. Peter’s spidey-sense tingled and he ducked away. Red Robin withdrew his hand. “Because you can’t really help that. Trust me, I’ve tried. You just have to make sure they don’t get the chance to do what they did again.”

Cold, cold voices and his voice gave out from screaming. “You really are your father’s son. Never being able to do what’s necessary.”

And Peter wondered what happened to Red Robin and who hurt him. Peter would just like to talk. Red Robin reminded him of himself, way back when being Spider-Man meant finding out Harry became Green Goblin. Pained. Tired.

“Yeah,” Peter agreed. But that’s not really a problem, considering the last thing the organ harvester said before dumping him in an alley. “She’s dead in a ditch in Siberia or something. I’m not really worried she’ll do it again.”

“Uh.”

“It’s cool,”

“Right. Have you… remembered your dad?”

“Yeah. He’s in Gotham,” Peter unfurled a little.

“You want help tracking him down? I’m good at that kind of thing.”

Peter glanced at Red Robin. “I think you just admitted to being a stalker.”

“Vigilante,” Red Robin shrugged, like it explained everything. And yeah, it kind of did. Peter snorted.

“Nah, it’s okay. I don’t want to meet him anyways.”

“Why not?”

“He doesn’t know about me,” Peter ticked off his fingers. “I’m a literal walking, talking, breathing reminder of his trauma. And I don’t need a dad.”

Red Robin looked at him silently. Peter doesn’t think about it.

He never wanted to see his parents suffer. An alternate version of his dad, hurt so irrevocably by an alternate version of his mom?

Peter hated that this Catalina dirtied his mother’s name, and went against the most fundamental parts of what the spider symbol was meant for. And considering he’s been doing this longer than her, he had first dibs on defining it. He’ll look after his dad, as long as he’s stuck in Gotham. It’s only right.

“His name? Oh, my son, it’s Richard Grayson.”

——

Peter, who Trusts his instincts: no head rubs?? awwwww

Tim, who’s been trying to get a dna sample for the last month: how does he keep evading me?? He must be a genius or a spy or- *spirals down the conspiracy board*

——

Tim: I’ve connected the dots!

Peter: you’ve connected jack shit

——

Listen, the moment I learned Catalina Flores’ middle name, the pieces clicked, okay? Like legos. It’s like, former FBI agent in this one and former CIA agent in Peter’s home universe? Wow. Middle name Marie? Mary Parker? Incredible. Spider themes run in the blood apparently?? They both have brown eyes!! Trying to do good with no qualms about murder!! (I’m assuming since Mary Parker was SHIELD and I don’t think SHIELD cared much for the sanctity of human life if it threatened the country or something)

#tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon #Peter Parker #I think you know who his mom is #nightwing #batman #red robin #Frank the Crime Alley kid #Tim Drake #Tw: mentions of torture #Tw: human experimentation #bruce wayne #dick Grayson #gotham #Tw: mentions of human trafficking #Catalina Marie Flores #tarantula #Spider in Gotham AU

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lxrd-ren · 7 months

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(Fuck me man did I actually crack it-)

Hmm, what if q!Bad being effected by the soul vultures is inherently a good thing?

I mean looking at the wiki for both the soul vulture and the soul stealing potion, it is pretty fucking powerful. I mean you could theoretically suck the life out of someone and use their soul to better yourself. I feel like q!Bad would 100% use this to his advantage

I've headcannoned how q!Bad has very destructive powers to the point where he can't use them cause he'll hurt and destroy everything. Perhaps this whole soul steal potion is his plan to get powerful enough to destroy the federation without hurting anyone else

I've put some thought into it and I think it makes sense

Obviously he found out about these potions from Dapper. But from what we know (and could see) Dapper only ever made the potions by sacrificing his health to the soul vultures

Me thinks the blue spots on q!Bad is from him consuming the soul potion instead of making it. I mean, we didn't see any spots on Dapper right? Meaning the blue spots has to have come from something else. But the blue is so similar, it HAS to have come from the soul vultures in some way. It being a side effect of drinking the potion me thinks is logical enough, and it makes sense that q!Bad is drinking it as he knows from Dappers notes how powerful it is

It also kinda explains the worker in his basement. Sure q!Bad has questioned it and maybe even tortured it, but q!Bad phrased it as an 'investigation' or 'project'. Surely q!Bad knew the worker wouldn't have much information, so why take it in the first place? Well, I think he'd go to these extremes if he had an ulterior motive. Namely, investigating whether the soul steal potion would effect federation employees aka could q!Bad use it against the federation

AND THE TIMING WORKS. When we saw the worker last, it was caged and locked up in q!Bad's basement. Let's say during that time period, he worked out that the worker is indeed effected by the soul stealing potion. And so, seeing this success, q!Bad starts taking the potion. And look at that, the black patches appear the next fucking day. And not 2 DAYS LATER, the blue spots start appearing.

And nearly everyday since, we've seen him either go back to the basement or the soul vultures, presumably to either make the potions or consume it. Oh and look at that, the blue has gotten worse and worse over time, almost as if he's drinking more and more of it

Motherfucker even said at one point:

"All according to plan."

Plus, I remember seeing one post saying how they don't think q!Bad is torturing the worker but rather experimenting on it like Dapper would experiment on shit. I'd say testing if a soul stealing potion would work on the employee is definitely experimenting on it

But I think we should definitely keep in mind the uh, ahem, other side effects.

Such as q!Bad becoming more violent, more hysteric, less empathetic, aka, losing his humanity, almost as if he's losing his own soul by getting hurt by the soul vultures and instead is regaining souls through the soul vulture potion, but ofcourse the souls aren't the same so bit by bit he's becoming more like one such as looking like one (the blue spots all over him), acting more like one (being more violent), sounding more like one.. (those noises we keep hearing at the end + start of stream)

..just saying we might see some soul vulture wings on q!Bad pretty soon..

(K but holy shit imagine the fanart that would look so fucking cool)

#qsmp #q!bbh #qsmp badboyhalo #qsmp bbh #q!dapper #tw: torture #tw: experimentation #tw: kidnapping #qsmp theory

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boots-with-the-fur-club · 26 days

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28 and 29

I combined the two, hope you don’t mind! Also, um, I went a little far with this. Make sure to check the tags.

@daboyau

Leo thrashes around violently against the restraints keeping him to the table. The Kraang who brought him there had taken out his portaling ability the first chance they got. It feels like years since then. Maybe it has been. The Kraang aren’t exactly generous when it comes to their prisoners.

Especially not one they’re trying to break.

He stops moving as much when a certain former warring warrior scientist walks in. He was taken at the same time Leo was.

That doesn’t mean he’s also a prisoner though.

“I-I want to be mad at you, but you’re like this and Mikey isn’t….you turned into such a freaking softy. Sacrificing yourself for the greatest mystic warrior ever? He’s not even a kid anymore.” Leo scoffs.

Draxum’s half Kraang covered face doesn’t change expressions. It was worth a try. It’s not like this could get any worse. It is torture by the world’s evilest creatures after all.

He lifts up a syringe filled with a green substance.

“What….going to double mutate me? It’ll do exactly what you’re trying to avoid.” Leo insists.

The reason Leo isn’t part of the grossest shade of pink ever hive mind right now is because they want someone to infiltrate the resistance undetected. That means he can’t look like Draxum does right now.

It also means they have to get him under their control another way.

He had been kept in a cell for a long time before this. Every day, Draxum would come in and use something new on him to make sure he never got used to the torture.

Leo’s healing factor meant that it could go on for a long time. Wounds closing just to be torn open again. A fresh canvas to splash with blood.

Just recently, he’s been making a lot more serious escape attempts. He almost made it the other day. The Kraang were really pissed about it.

This is probably punishment.

Draxum injects the liquid into his vein and immediately it feels like his insides are on fire. He bites his lip so hard it bleeds. He’s shocked when it hasn’t begun to heal already.

There’s….no way he just….?

The pain throbs through his whole body and he can suddenly feel it where he hadn’t before. A broken ankle that he was able to walk on now is absolutely killing him.

His wrists burn and bleed from how much he just tried to free himself.

He really did it.

Draxum took his healing factor.

A saw appears in his line of vision that is pressed against his arm.

His cool persona starts breaking as he feels the words to beg for this not to happen on the tip of his tongue. They’re only barely held back by the fact he knows it’ll only encourage The Kraang.

Draxum begins sawing.

Slowly.

Leo feels the scream come deep from his core. The pain is completely unbearable. There’s absolutely no drug to get him through it.

He hears liquid dripping to the floor. It’s easy to imagine both the tears pouring from his face and wound mixing on the ground.

Leo starts passing out from the pain. He feels something else inject to his other arm and his brain buzzes back to life.

Adrenaline.

He’s keeping him from going to into shock. From passing out. From escaping the worst pain of his life.

It keeps going on and on. It’s so slow. He can feel when his nerves die and shut off. It’s only some.

He’s hitting bone he’s hitting bone he’s hitting bone he’s hitting bone he’s hitting bone he’s hitting bone he’s hitting bone-

Ah.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE MAKE IT STOP!

RAPH!! DONNIE!! MIKEY!!

DAD! GRAM-GRAM!

ANYBODY! PLEASE!

A wall blows open.

Finally, finally, something other than the sound of his flesh and tendons being torn through.

The saw stops as he’s vaguely aware of Draxum getting tossed so hard he’s not sure he’s ever going to get up again.

There’s screaming.

A lot of screaming.

Oh, he recognizes those voices.

He’s barely able to turn his head to look his family there.

His brothers and-

Ha.

Who’s letting Casey J.R. see this?

Gross!

Leo starts laughing.

His brothers all start trying to help him. Casey J.R. stays back, eyes wide and full of absolute fear.

Leo laughs more.

How awful.

#tw amputation #tw torture #tw saw #tw blood #tw needles #tw experimentation #tw surgery #tw angst #angst no comfort #rise fanfiction #rottmnt fanfiction #future leo #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #2018 tmnt #rottmnt casey jr #tw body horror

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snowe-zolynn-rogers · 8 months

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Angsty Imagine (because I haven’t tormented you all enough for my liking recently):

Eclipse comes back without his memories and hides away in a bunker he finds. After a couple weeks, Moon finds him through the Computer tracking Eclipse and Moon imprisons him, refusing to believe he doesn’t remember anything, using him as a test subject since Eclipse ‘wants to play dumb’ and subjecting him to torture daily.

It’s only when Sun and Lunar finally decide to visit for laughs at Eclipse’s expense that they put a stop to it. They see Eclipse living in constant fear and pain, pleading for Moon to stop and trying to tell him he doesn’t remember anything.

Sun steps in and gets Moon away while Lunar frees and hugs a sobbing Eclipse who hasn’t been treated so gently before and can’t help but cry when Lunar hugs him for the first time in his third life.

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redgryphon · 10 months

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A short, simple comic based on a nightmare I had. Yes, it really was like this*. Yes I have a lot of Bloodborne dreams. I also have a lot of Dark Souls dreams but I turn those into TTRPG maps.

*Full res and explanation of changes from original dream on Patreon.

#tw blood #tw gore #tw death #tw drugging #tw hostages #tw kidnapping #tw medical experimentation #tw experimentation #tw needles #tw nightmares #tw occult #tw torture #tw violence #bloodborne #dream #nightmare #fanart #art #original

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adrift-in-thyme · 6 months

Text

Whumptober Day 30: Lab Rat + Examination

Continuation of Day 11

Read it on Ao3

- Legend & Hyrule

- Summary: Legend finds himself in the clutches of a mad scientist

CW for torture, experimentation, dehumanization, blood and injury, captivity, mentions of death, and a character briefly wishing for death

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Someone is talking.

Legend registers their voice dimly, through a fog he can’t make heads or tails of. It drags heavily at him when he tries to surface, oppressive and thick. Memories drift past – sensations of pain, feelings of fear.

There is danger here, they murmur.

What danger? He asks. But they flit away like fleeting phantoms, leaving his question unanswered.

And so he falls again, drifting on darkness as though it is the waves of the sea, awaiting the moment when everything will come once more into dizzying, blinding focus.

When it does, he almost wishes it hadn’t.

He awakens to the assault of bright lights. They glare down on him from above, glinting off the metal of the table he is strapped to. The rough fabric of the restraints grates at his exposed skin. Something hard and metallic encases his neck, uncomfortably tight when he swallows.

His eyes widen. The memories come rushing back, now, in a torrent of terror and discomfort.

Falling from a portal. Trying and failing to save Hyrule. The men on the boat, inspecting him, touching him, hands and breath hot and clammy. His promise…

“Ah, wonderful. You’re awake at last.”

Legend jolts at the voice and tries to sit up. But the restraints hold fast and he ends up only getting a glimpse of a familiar gray-haired man before collapsing back down. His head swims and he blinks a few times, trying to clear it.

“Oh, great,” he says, drily, voice cracking painfully. “It’s you.”

The man chuckles, the sound almost warm. “Indeed. We’re about to get started on something that could be monumental.”

There is a clattering of metallic objects near his head. Legend swallows hard.

“I do hope you are as excited as I am.”

“Oh, yeah I’m real excited. Can’t wait to get poked and prodded by some sadistic creep,” Legend retorts. Panic is rising fast within him, despite his attempts to suppress it.

“Oh come. Don’t be too quick to judge.” The man moves slightly into his line of sight again, something that looks disturbingly like a knife in his hand. “You are contributing to my research. And that’s a worthwhile thing, I assure you. The information I glean from you can be used for years to come.”

Glean. Legend feels bile rise in his throat at the word. For some unpleasant reason, it brings to mind gutted fish, fit for dissection; dead bugs with their bodies pinned.

“Now, tell me” —The man is facing him now, eagerness in his eyes. Legend fights not to squirm beneath his gaze — “what makes you transform? Is it a curse? A spell? Can you control it?”

Legend glares at him. “If you think I’m just gonna explain everything to you you’re even more of an idiot than I thought.”

“It will help this all go faster if you do.”

Yes, Legend realizes, he is definitely holding a knife. It glints in that cursed painful light. Slowly, he lowers it toward Legend’s legs.

“It will bring us to the important part of this examination. And most importantly it will ensure that your friend keeps his life.”

Legend jolts upward at that, fighting against the straps that pin him down.

“What do you mean?” There is an edge of harsh panic in his voice and all his strength isn’t enough to hide it. “What do you mean it'll keep my friend alive?! You said he would be safe if I came with you! You said you’d leave him on the shore! I saw you do it! I saw—”

He breaks off with a choked gasp. He is shaking, from cold, from adrenaline, from the fear coursing through him in waves. Then, a door he hadn’t seen before slides open and Hyrule stumbles through, bound and gagged and blindfolded, arm held tightly in the clutches of one of the men from the boat. And he is certain he is going to break right then and there.

“Rulie,” he breathes and Hyrule lifts his head.

He gives a muffled cry, struggling to try and break free. But his captor wrenches him back with a growl.

“You saw correctly,” the man says, with a calm that belies everything Legend feels. “I kept my promise to you. I left your friend on the shore as you requested. But somehow, he escaped his bonds and found us here. He brought this upon himself. Though, it never hurts to have a bit more leverage.”

The air feels tighter than ever now. Legend struggles to draw a full breath.

Hyrule, you idiot. Why’d you come here?

He sags back against the table, wincing at the bite of cold metal against his skin. If he wasn’t cornered between a rock and a hard place before, he certainly is now.

“What causes you to turn?” The man asks, leaning forward. Still, he holds the knife, situating it so close it almost presses into Legend’s knee. Legend doesn’t doubt that as soon as he transforms, it will plunge into his tail, searching out the gory mysteries of it. “Tell me or your friend will pay.”

His voice still embodies the calm of someone who has this entire situation perfectly controlled. And hell, maybe he does. It certainly seems that way.

Legend hates it.

He swallows. His mouth is terribly dry, panic situated in a hard, little ball in his gut. But he forces the words out anyway.

“It’s a curse. I thought it was just a magically-infused tool at first. But after I used it a few times, it became a part of me.”

His gaze flits from the man’s face to Hyrule, standing rigid, still in his captor’s grip. He is obviously listening — Legend doesn’t know how he wouldn’t be. Of all the ways he had wanted him to find out about his ability, this definitely isn’t one of them.

I’m so sorry, traveler.

“You cannot control it, then?”

“No.”

The man’s eyes are alight with that hunger again, the one that sends shivers crawling up Legend’s spine and makes him feel ill.

“Perhaps, we can do something about that.”

He motions to someone behind Legend. Footsteps sound and then the next thing the veteran knows, water is pouring down on him from above. He gasps at the icy chill of it, fingernails digging into his palms. It pools on the table, held there by its raised edges. And in response to its touch, Legend’s body begins to transform.

It is sheer agony.

Usually, the transformation is at least a little painful. His body is morphing, after all, fitting into a form it was not created to take the shape of. But this, this is like nothing he has ever known. It is like the magic within him is a trickle that wants to be a stream, a wave held back by a steadfast barrier.

The collar. It must be suppressing my magic.

He grits his teeth, seeing white. He wishes he could stop it, this onward march of the curse, but he is helpless. All he can do as his legs seal together and gills and fins grow upon him is try not to scream.

Even that is a losing battle.

It comes out as his tail forms – a strangled, almost inhuman sound. It fills his ears, mingling with the pounding of his head and the sounds of Hyrule fighting to get free. And it only tapers off when breathing becomes immensely difficult.

Though there is enough water to activate the curse, it is not nearly enough for proper airflow. And the collar around his neck covers his gills, restricting it further. Suddenly, Legend is suffocating.

His eyes blow wide and he struggles, gasping vainly for breath.

“Fascinating. Your biology becomes that of a mer.”

The man comes into view, leaning over him. Roughly, he turns his head this way and that, inspecting him.

“Please,” Legend croaks, desperately, “can’t–I can’t…”

“Ah, yes of course. Can’t have you dying, can we?”

More water cascades down upon him. Hands grip the collar, loosening it slightly. Legend goes boneless, dragging in large breaths that make him dizzy.

It’s a bitter mercy, but one nonetheless. At this point, he’ll take what he can get.

“Now, to do something about the uncontrollable nature of this curse.”

Someone is touching his tail now, but Legend doesn’t have the strength to lift his head and see who it is.

“All things can be brought into submission, you see, with a bit of effort. But first, I must study the makeup of this new body. The changes cannot be fully ascertained from the outside.”

Danger, his mind shouts again. Get out before it finds you.

Still, Legend cannot make sense of it. After the onslaught of pain and near-suffocation, everything feels sluggish and distant. He just wants to sleep.

But then, Hyrule screams something that sounds awfully like the word “no,” and his tail explodes with pain. The exhaustion flees, replaced by crippling, terrifying agony. Someone is slicing him open, he realizes as he thrashes, choking on blood. They’re cutting into his tail with all the careful precision of a scientist…and without the merciful use of a sedative. Or death.

Aren’t things that are dissected usually dead?

The thought isn’t comforting. Nor is it enough to distract him from the endless pain. He is buffeted by it, suffocated. Everything is on fire, everything too harsh, too bright. Wordlessly, he begs for the sweet release of oblivion. But it doesn’t come. Instead, blurry forms surround him, holding him down as he continues to fight back, tightening his bonds, digging their nails into his skin.

“Remain still,” comes the man’s voice. “If you’re not careful you will cause me to cut something vital.”

He is moving things around now, from the feel of it. Inspecting his insides, Legend guesses. He doesn’t know for certain. He doesn’t care to. He just wants it all to stop.

“Please,” he tries to beg, “please stop this.”

But blood gurgles in his throat and he chokes on it, every cough sending sharp aches splintering through him.

“Stay still, brat.”

A sharp slap stings the side of his face. Tears burn hot in Legend’s eyes. His head snaps sideways and he can see him now – Hyrule – fighting desperately against his captor’s restraining grip. The blindfold has fallen as a result of his efforts and his eyes meet Legend’s, large and filled with fury and terror.

He yells something incoherent – perhaps a protest, perhaps a promise. Legend can’t tell. All he knows is that his heart is splitting open along with the rest of his body, the ache of it unbearable. Hyrule shouldn't have to see this. He was never even supposed to be here.

I failed.

A hiccupped sob tears out of him. Legend shuts his eyes. He is so weak, so helpless.

Curse this stupid power, curse the people who seek to exploit it, curse the shadowy monster who sent them hurtling through that portal…curse himself for being so foolish.

He would tear this place apart if he could. He tries, tries to call his magic to his fingertips. Pain is the only thing he gets, pain and the sound of someone yelling at him, chastising him.

It only adds to everything else. The man comments on how fascinating this form is. Hyrule cries out. Legend screams and screams until his throat is so ruined and hoarse he can’t anymore.

And then, abruptly, there is no sound at all. Finally, darkness swoops up and swallows him. --------------------------

Everything is a blur after that. A blur of pain and fear, a nauseating rush of color and sound and sensation. Nothing changes and yet everything does.��

Sometimes he is lying on the table, strapped down and held down and thrashing like a wild animal caught in a cage. Others, he floats in what he thinks is a kind of fish tank, cramped and aching, watching rivulets of crimson dance and twirl on blue waters.

The collar cuts and chokes him. His gills ache from struggling against it. His fins are cut, his scales picked at, some peeled off for examination. His tail hardly even feels like a functional extension of him anymore. It is nothing more than a limp, useless thing made of muscles and nerves, crippled by pain, torn apart by the hungry hands of some mad scientist. He doesn’t even want to know what his legs look like. Not that he could tell anyway. He hasn’t transformed back into a Hylian since the curse took ahold of him here.

They have no use for a Hylian. But apparently, they have every use for a mer.

Legend doesn’t even remember what they wanted with him, or why he is here. He only knows two things now and they are all he really needs to. One, that he can’t escape, no matter how badly he wants to. And two, that being here, enduring all of this, somehow, inexplicably keeps Hyrule alive.

Even if the traveler’s eyes are bright with pain and tears every time Legend finds them, even if he bears marks from resisting his captors, he is alive. That is all Legend can hope for. He doesn’t have the strength to move beyond that.

So, he hangs on for Rulie’s sake. He hangs on even as he loses everything. Because he can’t lose his brother. He would rather be ripped to shreds and discarded, poked and prodded into oblivion, than watch him die.

The man has made it quite clear that that is the only alternative. The few times Legend had resisted after the first, he had described the methods in which he would murder Hyrule in intricate, excruciating detail.

“I will make it painful,” he had said, with that same infuriating calm that made Legend want to rip his head off. “Much more painful than what you’re enduring. And I will make it slow. He will be begging for death by the time I finish.”

Legend had given him a glare that could make Ganondorf quiver. But he hadn’t fought any more after that.

No. His fight is all internal now, a battle to hang on to the shreds of life he still has. He is stubborn to a fault, that’s for certain. But sometimes he wishes he wasn’t. Sometimes he wishes he would simply allow himself to fade away.

In the end, though, he is glad that he doesn’t.

There is nothing to herald an unexpected rescue. Nothing at all. He has been dunked in the tank today, barely holding on to consciousness, drifting in a sea of pain. Hylia only knows how much blood he has lost, or if he is trapped in this form forever, or if his tail will ever work again, his wounds ever heal. It hurts so badly. But he has no tears left to cry.

When a flash of familiar blue streaks through the room, however, he nearly sobs anyway.

The one thing these monsters haven’t tried is making him believe in a false reality. But the sounds of his captors hitting the ground, the sight of Warriors’ face next to the glass, his hand pressed to it as he asks him questions Legend lacks the energy to understand…it all seems like a dream.

Then, someone is lifting him from the water, gently, carefully, and voices are swelling around him. The voices of his brothers. He curls into the arms that embrace him. A vibrant blue scarf is draped over his shoulders and he grasps it, fingers fisting in the soft fabric.

He must have changed back not long after leaving the water, body undoubtedly eager to revert to its natural state. Because for the first time in what feels like an eternity, he can feel air filtering in through his nostrils.

Legend sinks further into Warriors’ embrace, nestling into his scarf. Everything aches and his skin feels raw, almost stretched. But he is safe, secure in the arms of the people he loves. And they will take care of him. They always do.

Sure enough, their voices begin to become clearer, all familiar, all reassuring.

“I’ve got you, vet.”

“You’re safe now. We won’t let those creeps touch you again.”

“We need to get this collar off him…”

“We will. Let’s get these wounds taken care of first.”

“We’re gonna take care of you, Ledge. Just you wait. Hyrule’s spell will work. It always does.”

Hyrule…

Legend drags open his eyes, peeking out from his cocoon of warmth.

“R-rule…where…”

“I’m right here, Ledge. Don’t worry.”

Hazel eyes meet his own. A calloused hand cups his cheek. There is so much guilt in Hyrule’s expression, so much pain that Legend’s heart aches from it.

It’s not your fault. None of it is, he wants to say, but all that comes out is a groan as magic begins to flow into his body. It is equal parts pain and relief. His eyes flutter closed again as it seeks his wounds, mending them little by little.

“I’ll heal everything I can,” Hyrule continues. “You’ll have scars and…and I can’t promise your mer form will be the same it used to be. But…I’ll do my best.”

Legend hums, only distantly aware of the sound rumbling in his throat. Hyule’s magic grows stronger, more determined, rushing like waves through him, and he loses himself in it. It wraps around him, envelops him in warmth and safety and a fire that is all Rulie’s own. He is safe in it, wounds soothed, agony growing dimmer.

Then, abruptly, it stops.

Legend gasps at the suddenness of its retraction, eyes shooting open, panic lighting up within him.

“What…”

He doesn’t have to find the strength to finish the question. He can see him through the forms of his brothers situated protectively around him – the man who had torn him apart. He stands a short distance away, eyes snapping with anger, a strange, little device in his hands.

Legend has a nagging feeling that he has seen it before, somewhere in those memories that are little more than a horrifying haze of agony. But he can’t recall what it is used for…or if he has ever even seen it in action. If it caused him pain, it was likely lumped in with everything else. Too much pain, he has learned, quickly becomes one, single, incomprehensible blur.

“Give him back!” he demands, sounding angrier and more fearful than Legend has ever heard before. “Give my research back or I'll use this!”

“He is not your research and we will not return him to you,” Time growls, his voice a thunderclap. “Stand back or we will make you.”

He levels his claymore at him, but the man doesn’t budge.

“You haven’t been able to get that collar off yet, have you? Well, with just one push of a button” – He holds up the device, fingering one of the many, small buttons upon it – “it will cut off his magic completely. I don’t know if you know this, given that you are not experts like myself, but he is so intricately linked with his magic now that he needs it to survive. It can be twisted and turned if one can find out how. But it cannot be ripped from him, or torn away.”

Legend’s grip of Warriors’ scarf tightens. He exhales a shuddering breath.

He doesn’t doubt what the man says. To be deprived of his magic…well, he doesn’t even know what that feels like. He doesn’t want to know.

“You won’t kill him,” the captain says, eerily calm. “You need him. You can’t work with someone who is already dead.”

“I can make do,” the man replies. “A dead subject is better than none at all.”

He lifts the device a little higher, finger almost pressing the button. “Now, give him to me or I’ll do it.”

Legend tenses. But then he feels Warriors hand, traveling upward as though to cup his head. His fingers swiftly change direction, playing along the collar instead, searching out a way to remove it. After a moment, they catch on a small latch. He pulls and with a streak of relief, Legend feels the collar loosen.

Hyrule glances back at him from where he had risen, a human barrier between Legend and the scientist. Something unspoken passes between them and suddenly, Hyrule’s fingertips crackle with energy.

Time steps forward. “We would never give our brother to a monster.”

The man scowls. “So be it.”

He presses the button. Warriors pushes down on the latch, hard, and the collar slips from Legend’s neck. It clatters to the ground, reverberating with an unsettling energy. Wind kicks it away.

At the same time, Hyrule leaps forward, arm outstretched. Magic courses through him, hitting the man with such force he flies back and into the wall. He collides with it with a sharp crack and slides down, limp and almost lifeless.

“Well done, traveler,” Time says, already stalking toward the figure. “I’ll make sure he is secured.”

“Then we can get out of this place,” Wild says. “I’ll bet our vet is more than ready to get back to camp.”

Legend nods, choking out the breath he hadn’t even realized he had been holding. He curls into Warriors, trembling slightly, and the captain tightens his grip on him in return.

“They’re all gone,” he assures him, softly. He cards a hand through his hair and Legend shudders, slightly, eyes going half-lidded. It has been so long since he was touched in this way, since the hands that held him were gentle and trustworthy and kind rather than rough, vengeful, and agonizing.

“That scientist was the last one.”

Thank the gods.

Hyrule kneels before him again, fire in his gaze, emerald magic glowing in the palms of his hands.

“We’ll be out of here soon, vet. But for now, let me heal you properly. It’s the least I can do.”

The magic comes again like the wind on a warm, summer day. Legend closes his eyes and lets it envelop him.

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proudfreakmetarusonniku · 21 days

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c!dream, in the middle of horrific experiments on random people: they say if you do the job you love you’ll never work a day in your life 🥰

#my continued ocification of c!dream #he should have been funnier ok #Dream smp #torture tw #human experimentation tw

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violetlunette · 6 months

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TwstOber Day 16: Rodent

TW: Mentions of torture and experimentation

“I don’t get why humans are seen as a big deal to everyone. You’re more like little rodents to me.” Silver didn’t respond, unable to due to the gag that filled his mouth as he lay strapped to a table. He tugged on his arm but the bindings held as tight as ever. Inwardly, Silver cursed himself. Despite all his father’s efforts, he had allowed himself to get kidnapped by this mad fae and taken to—this place, wherever it was. An involuntary shiver passed over Silver’s body as the icy wind brushed against his skin. He was only barely wearing a t-shirt right now as the rest had been torn away for the mad fae above him to have better access for her tools, many of which had already been used to cut into him before stitching him up. Even his pants had been stripped away for the fae to “get the freshest blood” from his thigh. Silver swallowed a whimper as a fresh sting of pain coarse through his being. He hated this. He wanted to go back home to where he was sure his father was waiting. And he hated how childish that sounded. After all, he was almost sixteen. By human standards, he would be an adult soon, and here he was—whimpering his mind about wanting to return to his dad. “Still,” Silver looked up with dread as the fae’s voice broke through his thoughts. “Like, rats, I suppose you do have your uses.” With that, the fae withdrew a long, thick needle filled with a dark, black liquid. He paled to a ghostly white as he could only imagine what that stuff was going to do to him next. The mad fae smiled at Silver’s panicked expression. “Now, hold still, dear. I don’t want you to break just yet. There’s so much more fun to be had.” “Ngh!” Silver cried out and tried to pull away but was trapped like the rat she claimed he was and wasn’t able to stop the needle from breaking skin. His vision went white with pain.

#twst wonderland #twst silver #twst #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #silver twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland silver #silver twst #silver vanrouge #twst diasomnia #twstficlet #I hate that these are so short but I bit off more than I could chew this year #And just realized that I should of just drawn Silver as mouse and that would have been easier #oof #oh well #tw mentions of torture #tw experimentation mentioned

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phantomposting · 1 year

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Nightmares AU Prompt

Trigger warning: vivisection, nightmares, major character death (sorta), torture, abuse

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Danny and Damian are twins both were aloof with eachother but deep down still had some care which is why it nearly broke Damian to take his brother's life in order to please their grandfather. Eventuslly Damian had convinced himself it was simply for the best. Survival of the fittest after all, Danyal simply just wasn't fit to live and follow the path he had been born into. What all didn't know though was there were bigger plans for Danyal than anyone could have expected. A spirit of time saw to that. His body was taken to the pits and revived then dumped in Illinois to ensure he ended up on the correct path. With no memory of his past Danyal grew up in Amity Park Illinois with the Fentons and eventually had his accident that lead to him becoming Phantom. From there he went on many world saving adventures flying under the Justice League's radar. He slowly got in a routine and though tiring it got as calm as things could be in his shoes. But as there is calm before the storm it did not stay that way for long. One day Danny's parent's find out about Phantom and shit hits the fan. They don't take it well at all Danny gets absolutely tortured via vivisection and intense experimentation. Clockwork knows there is only one way to save him and end up in the correct timeline with the best outcome. He gets Nocturne to contact Danyal's twin via his dreams. Though Nocturne being Nocturne doesn't send a direct sos. He instead gives Damian intense nightmares of exactly what Danny is going through. Damian can barely sleep anymore due to this and it takes him awhile to finally investigate it. On a whim he begins to look into the name Fenton which is said in one if his dreams which leads him to the doctors Fenton. This leads him to get suspicious of the two probably thinking he's just being paranoid from sleep deprivation but he goes to investigate and bam he finds his bloody and beaten twin and rescues him! The rest of this would probably be about recovery and dealing with the legal issues and psychological damage that this had on both the twins aswell as help them overcome their aloofness towards eachother and accept what happened in the past. This fic could also have the GIW replace the Fentons as the main antagonists and would probably be easier to get Damian suspicious of them. All in all just a silly idea I had in the middle of the night and I hope you all enjoy the prompt :D

#just a little prompt i wrote before going to bed #tw torture #tw vivisection #tw experimentation #danny phantom #dp x dc #dp au #batman crossover #damian wayne #damian and danny are twins #nightmares #nocturne #clockwork #angst #sorry if any of this is typed weird or wrong I'm impulse posting this at 4am and i got sleepy soup brain

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promptsforyourwhumpfic · 1 year

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Whump Prompt #1064

Submitted by Anon - thanks!

Vivisection. Being experimented on and cut open while still alive. How would rescuers get whumpee out? When whumpee is being carried, every step hurts because their wounds are getting jostled.

#whump #writing #prompts #vivisection #maming #tw: mutilation #experimentation #bridal carry #torture #rescue #surgery while conscious

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starleska · 10 days

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He's no Mad Mod, but I was suddenly reminded that The Superman Animated Series iteration of Metallo is also played by Malcolm McDowell and felt like sharing with the class 🥰

IRISOOOOO you are ALWAYS coming in clutch with the amazing villains to get obsessed with omfggg????? i know absolutely nothing about the Superman Animated Series but watching a few seconds of Metallo and i'm like 👀👀👀 Malcolm has a voice like melted butter...that laugh, my god!!!! 😳😳😳 lord though, reading up Metallo's backstory, i feel for the poor guy 😭 it's reminding me of that old creepypasta (content warnings for body horror, scientific experimentation, torture, mental illness and more...do heed the tags on the page and exercise caution!!!) Gateway of the Mind . i think anyone would struggle with the loss of so many sensations at once - that has to do a number on your psyche 💔 i'm gonna have to go away and watch his episodes now!! gosh, thank you as always for the excellent suggestion 🥰🥰

#metallo #john corben #superman #superman the animated series #dc #dcau #f/o suggestions #creepypasta #tw: body horror #tw: scientific experimentation #tw: torture #tw: mental illness #starleskasks

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floofgryph · 15 days

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Criafol/Rhodopis

Species: Dark elf-fairy hybrid

Birthday: Unknown

Age: 2309 (chronologically), 24 (physically)

Sexuality: Non-binary and omniromantic

Occupation:

Merchant

Hitman for Demaryius

Bodyguard of Homeworld

Apple orchardist

Assassin for the council of gods (formerly)

Abilities:

Supernatural agility, dexterity, durability, speed, balance, flexibility, endurance, reflexes, senses, leaping, stamina, and wisdom

Enhanced accuracy

Partial immortality (the sound of church bells, crossing running water, and hearth fires can led to death)

Abnormally rapid regeneration

Absolute violence

Psychokinesis

Invisibility

Cosmic awareness

Flawless precognition

Temporary mind control

Transform into humans and animals

They can hop between different dimensions every two days

Mastery over entomology, ornithology, astronomy, meteorology, black magic, archery, and swordsmanship

Ilusion, twilight, shadow, fear, weather, insect, and thread manipulation

Induce bad luck, contagious diseases, and curses that lead to painful deaths

They can phase through objects and avoid attacks with ease

They’re able to transport to a far location with a mere thought

Their golden blood has rejuvenating properties

Personality: They have learned to move on from their trauma in order to properly perform their duties and work towards a life of peace and acceptance. However, the sounds of whips and witnessing events of assault and/or humiliation do trigger their memories of past trauma. They show numerous signs and symptoms of autism spectrum disorder or ASD such as self-isolation, difficulty with reciprocal social interactions, intense reactions to minor changes in routine, echolalia, and avoiding eye contact. As a result of her brutal training and ruined childhood, they show very few signs of antisocial personality disorder. This consists of using charisma to manipulate others, lying for personal gain, being extremely opinionated, theft, and doing dangerous things with no regard for their safety. They’re able to achieve things in a clever way, using a methodical mindset and strategic forms of deceit or evasion to get what they want or what’s needed. When interacting with people they have no interest in or are disrespectful and manipulative, they make critical and mocking remarks in a sarcastic way. They’re deeply distrustful of the sincerity and integrity of those who betrayed Demaryius and try to harm the vulnerable, viewing them as self-centred.

They treat their targets in a ruthless and cocky manner, and show deep admiration and protective kindness towards people they’re fond of. Despite their usual calm demeanour, they have a sinister presence that strikes fear in cowardly and/or uncertain hearts. They rarely get furious, impatient, and anxious, maintaining a serene disposition that’s free from stress. They’re quite reserved in speech and say very little, which makes them come off as aloof, naturally quiet, and shy. As an active listener, they carefully pay attention to what others have to say and will provide feedback when necessary. They often refrain from unfair judgement and respectfully respond to what someone has to say, but there are instances where they come off as inconsiderate. They’re incredibly wise, cautious, sometimes honest, and courageous, and they find enjoyment in helping others either directly or indirectly. As a result of their humility and mysterious nature, they’re more inclined to hide true their feelings, thoughts, and intentions from other people.

Likes: Petrichor, apple orchards, watching the sunset at an unoccupied beach, horticultural therapy, tree-climbing, insectoid and avian wildfire, horse-riding, the sound of lyres, mild weather, and exploring an abandoned residence

Dislikes: Anyone who threatens Demaryius and his children, the council of gods, corrupted royalty, traitors, forest fires, rotten apples, genetically modified foods, missing a target with her arrows (it’s uncommon), doors that aren’t closed properly, and intrusive music

Equipment:

A traveller’s backpack that holds loaves of bread and random souvenirs

A glittering ear dagger

A serpentine dagger that can shroud its user in primordial darkness

An antique purple mirror

A black magic grimoire of mouldy leather, starry speckles of saffron, a rose gold chrysanthemum decoration on the back, and sage green, amber, icy blue, and lavender eyes on the front

A deerskin pouch full of four-leaf clovers, St. John’s worts, and golden bells

A chelys with a shoulder strap that can control canines

An adamantine longsword of writhing flesh that can control holy fire and eagles

A bow made from a sacred yew tree

A quiver full of poison-tipped arrows

A caravan full of exotic items and it’s pulled by a kelpie mare they befriended

Physical and outfit appearance: They’re a 4’ 2” (127 cm) ectomorph with a pear-shaped figure, a decent musculature, elongated limbs, and upper arms that carry some of their weight. They have bronze top scars as well as healed cuts and slices on their back, and below their head, black warts are scattered across their body. They possess elvish ears that are slightly dropping, and their illuminating skin changes between emerald green, red ochre, yellow-orange, blue-green, and soft purple. They have metallic rose eyes with glowing golden pupils that become nearly a dark purple when the sun reflects them. They have shoulder-length, shaggy hair and sideburns of glistening silver-grey, which is speckled with dewdrops. They also have slightly sharp claws, draconic feet, the wings of a Halloween pennant, and a thick tail that looks like the lower half of a Papilio machaon caterpillar. They have a vaguely S-shaped azure dragon with a white-and-orange koi in its mouth tattoo on the front of their torso.

They wear a quilted tunic with orange pearl studs, deep burgundy trousers, and a leather belt with a golden lion’s head as a buckle. They don a wrap-around hood of black wool, a reddish-brown cloth mask that covers their lower face, a Turkish rose sash with vertical reef gold stripes, and an everglade surcoat with barely noticeable blood stains. They have an amulet of a Neolithic flint arrowhead hanging from their neck, a rowan bracelet with scarlet berries encircling it, and cold iron neck rings. They have silver snake bite, nose bridge, and rhino piercings, and blackish-purple tassel earrings. Bottled potions are tied to the black belt that holds up their trousers and they produce the following effects: total blindness, melting of the flesh, loss of hearing, animal transformation, contorting of the body, and an obscuring fog.

Family:

Unnamed fairy advisor (father)

Unnamed dark elf mother

Biography: They were born during a solar eclipse to a fairy advisor of King Oberon and a dark elf that lived deep in a subterranean cave. The dark elf didn’t trust the royalty in the faefolk kingdom and tried to raise them alone, teaching them valuable life lessons and showing them basic survival techniques. Their mother told them knowledgeable stories about the faefolk kingdom, the fairies, the light and dark elves, birds, insects, the sky, and heavenly bodies. When nearing their tween years, Queen Titania kidnapped them, leaving their mother to commit suicide out of grief and shame. Rhodopis was trained to be a fearsome killer, never having a normal childhood. Whenever they stepped out of line, they were whipped, assaulted, and aggressively ostracised by the knights and executioners as punishment. Their genitals were brutally mutilated and they would undergo meticulous experimentation in order to “perfect” them.

After many years of harsh training, they became a top tier assassin for the council of gods, especially for King Oberon and Queen Titania. They were responsible for assassinating and viciously torturing disobedient and treacherous supernatural beings (e.g. demons, dwarves, and demigods) and humans. As the most loyal servant and valuable asset of King Oberon’s regime, their golden blood was used to imbue each fresh apple from the royal orchard with rejuvenating properties. Rhodopis is on great terms with Demaryius and saw him as a very close friend rather than a potential lover compared to most deities and their servants. When they found out that he was betrayed and his creation was rudely taken away from him, they silently abandoned their duties. They let King Oberon, Queen Titania, and everyone associated with the royal faefolk family die from rapid aging in retaliation for Demaryius’ treatment. They were promoted by Demaryius as his hitman and bodyguard of Homeworld, ensuring that they aid in the safety of him and his children. Whenever they have free time, they’re a travelling merchant and vehemently attending to the apple orchard in Homeworld.

Fun facts:

It’s unknown why their skin alternates between a handful of colours, but it’s probably tied to their current emotional state. Emerald green means hopeful and forgiving, red ochre means passionate, brave, and angry, yellow-orange means enthusiastic and confident, blue-green means sorrowful, relaxed, and indifferent, and soft purple means ambitious, creative, and mysterious.

The skin on their caterpillar tail sheds its old skin near the middle of spring

They like to tangle the hair of sleepers into fairy-locks

They have a habit of licking their serpentine dagger

They’re not an official child of Demaryius, but he deems them as one of his own due to their extreme loyalty to him.

They view Demaryius as a kind-hearted individual who’s passionate about humanity despite some of their glaring flaws. They admire his protective nature and his willingness to teach his children to become strong people. However, they’re deeply worried about his suicidal tendencies and they hate it when he purposefully overworks himself. They would try to deter him from harming and exhausting himself whenever they’re not busy with their own duties.

Demaryius renamed them to Rhodopis because their eyes reminded him of delicate pink roses and he thought that the meaning behind their real name (Criafol means “lamenting fruit” in Welsh) was unfortunate.

They’re on very good terms with Sister Rosa due to their protective respect of Demaryius

They’re not the greatest with children due to how disturbing and uncomfortable their presence is, but Sister Rosa has taught them the basics of caregiving.

They help with teaching the older children of Demaryius how to wield swords and daggers, and shoot arrows with a bow.

Their kelpie friend is named Cáelfind who enjoys talking about the ocean with Rhodopis, early dawn strolls, and eating red grapes.

They sell items that range from utterly weird and disgusting to strangely pleasant and calming

The chelys was a benevolent gift from a young woman they saved during one of their last missions as the assassin of the council of gods. It was the young woman’s way of thanking them for saving her from her treacherous werewolf husband.

Whenever they’re not working, they’re either playing their chelys, taking a stroll through gloomy forests, or wood-carving with their ear dagger.

They named the chelys Lycaon

They named their flesh longsword Prometheus

They named their yew bow Yggdrasil

They named their ear dagger Rostam

They named their serpentine dagger Carnwennan

Their favourite entertainment consist of Shakespearean plays, classical music concerts, horse-racing events, cockfighting, short stories that contain elements from folklore and mythology, and fairy tales.

They like to drink watermelon-flavoured water, raspberry lemonade smoothies, and cappelletti spritz

Their biggest comfort food is raw salmon and cooked gnocchi with crusted rosemary scalloped potatoes and lobster mac n’ cheese.

They hate it when people make teasing jokes about her size and blank expressions

They enjoy drinking herbal tea with Miss Katherine and combing her dark purple hair

In regards to Miss Katherine, they understand how it’s like to struggle with handling children and to have autism.

They view Miss Katherine as a mother figure because when she talks about her novels, it reminds them of how their mother told them bedtime stories.

They enjoy teasing Maverick for having no penis

They like hearing Percy’s dark jokes

They act as an emotional listening device for Svyatopolk to rant about his problems

Demaryius, Sister Rosa, and Homeworld belongs to @nunezs-stuff

Miss Katherine belongs to @vanillafalvoredcoffee

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