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inkwell-and-dagger · 3 months

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The lab was all Ruaridh knew.

Not even their own name. They were only called "Subject" here, not that. They supposed that should've been a bad thing, to not have a shred of autonomy in this painful, horrid life, but.. to them, it was normal. In fact, they were used to it. The constant whirring of scientific devices helped them sleep at night, and they loved the foreign feeling of paper beneath their fingertips, the gentle sound of pages turning as they delved into another book. That was really the only thing they had to keep themself occupied.

They'd never been outside. The unfortunate test subject was taken early enough that they couldn't remember anything of their old life; only the lab remained in their memory. Sure, they'd read plenty of books about all types of fauna and flora, and a tiny window in their cell confirmed that there was life outside of this mundane laboratory. But the window was far too high up to see anything but the sky, changing from blue, to white, to grey depending on the day. Sometimes, they'd hear a gentle patter of something on the roof of the hidden lab, and it frightened them for a while — but they were used to it now. Apparently, it's called rain.

Surprisingly, they'd never, ever thought of escaping. You would think they would've, considering they spent countless days being injected and experimented on, dragged from room to room in this endless labyrinth run by one, horrible being, to be cut open and examined, assessed meticulously for 'changes'. Sure, it was painful, but they thought that was normal. That all of this was normal. Being chained to the corner of a dark, dingy cell, having to make a little nest in the corner out of blankets to sleep in at night, hardly even knowing what the feeling of sun on his scarred, almond skin would feel like — it was all normal.

Until it wasn't. Until their beliefs began to change.

Until they began to change.

At first, it was just a general aching. Their limbs hurt, and no amount of rest would fix it. Their gums seemed to pulse in pain, to the point they couldn't stand eating for a couple days. Even then, their appetite seemed to diminish, and suddenly they weren't very interested in being fed whatever 'nutritional' bullshit the scientist gave them. Everything hurt; down to their fingers, they felt stiff with discomfort. The scientist would just scribble something down in a notepad when they tried to ask for some kind of relief.

Then, their senses grew more sharp. It was painful, to say the least. They began to see every little crack in the walls of their cell, every speck of dust on the little window, every dried drop of blood still remaining on their loose hospital gown. The poor lab rat could hear everything, from the aggressive rustling of documents and files, piles of pages dedicated to their suffering, from outside of their cell. Their own shallow breaths in sync with their captors. It was sickening.

But nothing would've prepared them for the actual process. The sound of the fragile bones in their frail body cracking and moving, arms elongating and bending backwards until Ruaridh was sure they'd crack. Fingernails growing into claws, fangs replacing their canines. They weren't used to this body — this monster that had replaced them. Their legs were too weak to support their own weight, having to use all four limbs to move around. The tail— oh God, the tail. A searing pain penetrating their senses, a pulsing agony in their lower torso and forehead, until blood coated the floor as new appendages sprouted out of their very skin.

They couldn't help but wail for the first few days after their change. Every movement was agonizing for them, every attempt at talking was met with only small noises. The floor felt too hard under their skin, the hospital gown too itchy for their liking, but they still possessed enough dignity to keep it on.

This wasn't normal, the remaining part of their conscience would scream. It wasn't normal to put an innocent human into this sort of torture, to turn an innocent human into a husk of their former self, a broken monster that would just be thrown out onto the streets. And that was exactly what had happened to them.

The foreign concept of rain pattering steadily down on their skin as they grew accustomed to their new body, they spent months trying to survive on the streets of this new, frightening place. Strange devices and 'vehicles' made them wince as they screeched past, unfamiliar voices and faces staring down at them in disgust or fear. They kept to alleyways, narrow places, just so they wouldn't be seen. The rain wouldn't stop.

Ruaridh couldn't remember the last time they ate. The last time they'd looked into someone's eyes and hadn't felt fear, or shame, or embarrassment. The last time they smiled. The last time they slept peacefully. The last time they walked only on their two feet. The last time they were in a warm, albeit dingy, room. The rain wouldn't stop.

The alley was, what one would call, a home. Sure, it was cramped and dark and sometimes people would pass them and be afraid of this frail, disfigured monster, but it was the only place they had. The only place they felt was even somewhat safe. The rain wouldn't stop.

They were used to the footsteps. Used to the laughing, or the alarmed sounds of fear, or being ignored entirely. But one pair went closer than the others.

The rain stopped. They heard it pattering, but they couldn't feel it on their skin, on their head, soaking their hair and hospital gown until they were a shivering mess. No, they were being covered. An umbrella, perhaps.

Yes, an umbrella.

"You poor thing. Let's get you inside."

° • ^ ° • ^ ° • ^ ° • ^ ° •

just a quick little rundown of my new OC'S lore, Ruaridh Mullen!! I love them so much <33

#ruaridh mullen #Uilebheist A Rinn An Duine #whump #whump oc #oc whump #whump writing #writing #oc writing #monster whumpee #monster whump #nonhuman whumpee #lab whump #scientist whumper #captive whumpee #rescued whumpee #whump community #whump drabble #whump series

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inkwell-and-dagger · 1 month

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Hunger

TW: cannibalism, potential forced cannibalism, gore, experiment whumpee, lab rat whumpee, nonhuman whumpee, sadistic whumper, scientist whumper, lab whump, abandoned whumpee

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Ninety consecutive days had passed since Ruaridh's body began to change for the worse. They'd tracked this time through scratching tally marks onto the wall of their cell with their steadily growing claws, that continued growing no matter how much Ruaridh chewed at them, or Derwyn clipped and filed them down to the point they nearly looked normal.

For the most part, they'd been left alone; the door only opened for painkillers, food or routine 'check-ups' from the scientist every fortnight or so. But the painkillers shoved down their throat hardly did a thing to soothe their aches and pains, the check-ups were repetitive and quite frankly annoying, and the food was bland and tasteless and had a weird texture which Ruaridh didn't like. They'd had to resort to.. other ways to satiate their incessant hunger. The only noises they'd hear nearly every day were Derwyn's smooth voice, the gentle scratching of a pen on paper, and sometimes even rain pattering down on the roof of the building. Or what they assumed was this thing called rain — they'd never seen it before.

But today was different. Ruaridh had felt it even before the door had opened, waking them from a short-lived nap in the corner.

They watched Derwyn's boots with tired, lidded eyes as he advanced, footsteps thumping against the tiled floor. "009? You're awake, that's good." Derwyn crouched down, tipping the subject's head up with a finger and thumb. "I see you've been tracking the days, hm?"

Ruaridh couldn't respond, as always. Something about her wide, dilated eyes made Ruaridh's throat close up in fear. Instead, they nodded, wearily. Derwyn chuckled in amusement. "Anyway. I've got something fun planned for us today. A little game to take your mind off of things."

A game? The concept was foreign, though a clouded memory in their mind reminded them of a time when they were younger. Running down sterile halls in fits of laughter, gazing at vials full of strange liquids and being rewarded with something bright and sweetly tasting on a stick each time they were injected with something. Derwyn had always tried to make them happy when they were little.

Derwyn laughed again at the confusion evident in their eyes. "It's gonna be fun, don't worry. Hey, if you just do as I say, then maybe you'll get a sweet treat after. Deal?"

Ruaridh repeated the last word in a faint whisper, mimicking Derwyn's accent; which made the scientist laugh again.

"You never fail to amuse me, 009," She crooned in a sickeningly sweet tone, helping the test subject up and out of the corner. Ruaridh was much taller than him, now. "Do you think you'll be able to walk all the way there?"

Ruaridh nodded stubbornly, and they just about managed to walk to the door of the cell. One foot after the other. Left, right, left right.

The hall outside of the cell was a new sight to Ruaridh after all these years, but it was nostalgic even in its unfamiliarity. Sterile, white and cold — freezing cold. Goosebumps raised on Ruaridh's arms as Derwyn led them down the corridor, past numerous other cells. 010, 011, 012, 013, all going up the more they walked. Ruaridh had never realised there were more people like them here.

Derwyn had begun to whistle a little tune as they walked, but it ceased when she noticed them staring at the cell numbers. "009." Ruaridh recognised the chiding tone, and knew it wasn't meant to be taken as a light telling off; they immediately ripped their gaze from the cell numbers, partially using their hair to hide it from their peripheral vision.

Derwyn smirked proudly, leading them onwards. The remainder of the walk there was spent in silence, aside from the occasional noise of disapproval whenever Ruaridh got distracted.

Eventually, Derwyn led them to a door. Unlike the cells and operating rooms, this one was unlabelled, and there was some sort of commotion going on inside. The faint clanking of chains. Ruaridh shuddered at the noises, wondering what kind of poor creature was trapped in there. They remained away from the door, hesitant to even look at it, as Derwyn fished out a key from the pocket of their lab coat. A soft click indicated that the door had been opened, and they were dragged inside.

The sight was disturbing. Some kind of creature, but certainly not an animal, was bound in shackles in the centre of the room; ones around its wrists chained to the floor. It looked to be the same species of Derwyn.

Confused, their eyes snapped from Derwyn to the trapped creature multiple times. They'd never seen anyone other than Derwyn before. Ever.

Derwyn just smirked down at them; a change in their tone hinted at something now.. sinister. "See that little thing? You've never seen it before, have you?"

Ruaridh shook their head.

"You're scared of it, aren't you?"

Ruaridh nodded.

"And you're hungry, correct?"

They nodded again, but more hesitantly.

"Perfect." Much to Ruaridh's dismay, Derwyn led them to the trembling human, who stared up at them with wide, terrified eyes, but it didn't speak.

Ruaridh didn't like it. They felt horrible to see something so scared, but they knew any attempts at comforting it would end in a lack of food for at least three weeks.

"I've already kept it without food for a while, so it's weak already."

Oh.

"...And I may have done a few things to it, so thankfully it won't do any yapping whilst I explain."

Oh.

"And all I ask you to do, 009, is finish it off."

Oh.

Ruaridh couldn't help but stare incredulously at her. He was asking them to kill this poor thing? How? Why?

Derwyn raised an eyebrow. "Don't look at me like that. I'm teaching you how to protect yourself. If you see something you don't like, kill it. Understood?"

They reluctantly nodded in response, earning a little smile from the scientist.

"Good. Now, you're not gonna use any weapons for this. Those are strictly for my hands only; we've been over this. Use your claws, your teeth — take a bite and see how it tastes. I know you're hungry, I haven't fed you yet. How about you try something new today?"

Ruaridh responded with a small noise, a slight whimper. Their own voice sounded strange to their own ears, accent thick, and strong, and unfamiliar. "Do I have to..?"

"Yes. I'm teaching you something valuable. I'm doing you a favour here, 009." She nudged them forward with a soft push. "Get on with it."

Despite being what they could only assume was an adult now, they felt like a little kid. A conflicted, scared child. Wanting to do as they're supposed to, but also wanting to structure their own decisions by making their own choices because the orders just don't sit right with them. They didn't want to kill this poor, poor creature, but.. Derwyn told them to.

Crouching down, they inspected the bound creature. They indeed looked frail, and colour was drained from their face. Wide eyes staring in a silent plea to be spared, but Ruaridh just couldn't do that; they weren't allowed to.

"Your heightened senses allow you to hear things normal creatures cannot, at a much farther distance than what's natural. Of course, it will grow stronger from now, since these past few months have only been the beginning." Derwyn walked up to the right of Ruaridh, crouching as well. With a latex gloved hand, she led their hand to be placed on the person's chest. "You can feel their heart beating now, but can you hear it?"

They could. If they focused enough, they could hear the frantic fluttering of the creature's heart; an incessant thumping, synced with the vein beneath their palm. Loud like the buzzing of a bee and quick like the flutter of a hummingbird's wings.

"When it gets irritating, figure out how to make it stop. Be as messy as you want; I'll even clean it up for you."

Ruaridh was hardly listening by now, staring at their own hand as Derwyn removed his. After a couple moments, the thumping did, indeed, grow annoying. And they were sure it showed in their expression, because Derwyn chuckled, who was standing well away beside a small cabinet, clipboard and pen in hand.

Ruaridh only seemed to stop being so focused when they heard the creature whimper and it began to squirm. Pulling their hand back, they noted the small puncture holes in its tattered shirt, and blood staining the tips of their claws. The thumping was there still, but just a little quieter. But Derwyn's smile faded. "Why did you stop, 009?"

"I.. I didn't mean to—"

"I don't care!" She snapped, walking over with long strides. "You were starting off good. You just have to not let the sight of a bit of blood stop you." They pulled on a fistful of their hair, tugging it upwards so Ruaridh had no choice but to look up. "Kill it. I don't care how long it takes. Take your time, make it quick, I couldn't care less; just do it. Am I understood, 009?"

Nodding frantically seemed to please them, for Ruaridh was released. Derwyn then unlocked the chains that held the creature's shackles down, before returning to the drawer. With the scientist's eyes on them, they had no choice but to get on with it. Already the thing was trying to stand, but Ruaridh held it down before it could get too far. They returned their hand to where it had been, sinking their claws into the creature's chest. A pained gasp turned into a yelp the further they sank them in, and Ruaridh soon had to use both of their hands.

Before they could comprehend what they were doing, they were ripping into its chest. Wild eyes focused on nothing but the steadily bleeding, mangled torso beneath them. One hand after the other, digging and digging and digging, until finally they were met with bone. Their own actions became a blur of crimson, and when they finally grew aware of their surroundings, and more so what they'd just done, a hardly beating heart was held tenderly in their bloodied palm.

Ruaridh’s heart stopped. They hadn't realised how far they'd gone until now, and already they felt nauseous. They glanced up, meeting a rather amused Derwyn, who nodded encouragingly.

They continued more hesitantly. They didn't know whether or not it was dead, but it was certainly not conscious; the screaming had stopped though, which they were glad for, but now the room was too quiet. The heart was warm in their hand, each thump slow and shallow. They really were hungry.

As much as it was wrong, they couldn't resist it. Sinking their fangs into the heart, something warm and metallic coating their tongue. Derwyn just watched with a growing grin as they dug into their ‘meal’. Startlingly, Ruaridh found it tasting quite nice. It was warm, which was unusual, but welcome. They were disgusted that it tasted at least decent.

They couldn't handle more than a bite before whimpering and dropping the thing, a soft sob drawing Derwyn's attention off of the clipboard.

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,” They cried — pleaded? Sobbed? Begged? They didn't know; were they saying this just out of guilt, or were they asking to be forgiven for doing such a thing to this harmless, unique creature? — as they lowered their crimson hands to lift the body as if talking to it, grasping onto the cold, fragile flesh in an awkward attempt at a hug. It was their first try, but they believed it was good enough.

Derwyn watched the scene with growing intrigue, scribbling something else down on the clipboard. It was good enough for now. “You really should be getting used to killing soon, 009.”

---

Maybe Ruaridh had gotten used to killing after all.

Ripping into the flesh of a little deer they’d found, defenceless and oblivious to the large humanoid pouncing on it, making sure to be gentle as they munched on the meat inside. They didn't bother with the organs. That part made them nauseous.

They couldn't help but feel bad, despite how desensitised they were to the taste of blood in their mouth, to the feeling of crimson painting their fingertips. None of the creatures they'd killed deserved to die, but they had to live one way or another, right? Having to die to help them survive was a sad, cruel fate, but they didn't want to starve.

A small, sad sigh escaped their bloodied lips, staring down at the gorgeous little creature they had to sacrifice. Dawn was just beginning to arrive, the sun just about peeking across the horizon through the trees.

“I'm sorry.”

The feather remained securely at their side, still as pristine as when they found it.

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UARAD Taglist: N/A

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inkwell-and-dagger · 3 months

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look at them!!!! I love them so much!!!!!!!!!

#whump wip #whump art #ruaridh mullen #Uilebheist A Rinn An Duine #whump #lab rat whumpee #experiment whumpee #lab whump

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inkwell-and-dagger · 3 months

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gotta love ocs who are just. weird ass dogs. look at it. what is that

#ruaridh mullen

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inkwell-and-dagger · 3 months

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Ruaridh had been travelling for days. Or had it been weeks? Months? They had no clue. Time seemed to pass in one incomprehensible blur, and Ruaridh was still trapped in this forest. Sure, it was a tranquil, peaceful place, but hunger gnawed at their mind as they trotted and scurried and weaved through the trees with no destination in mind.

They'd tried hunting for small prey animals like they'd learnt in one of their books — if only they had their books now — leaving a discreet trail of animal carcasses in their path, but even then the raw meat had done nothing to relieve their starvation. Water was scarce, and whether that was due to them going in a certain direction, or just overall a lack of luck, they couldn't be sure.

They'd been sleeping beneath the stars ever since their abandonment, soft grass and the lullaby of crickets lulling them into fitful sleep. Mud had begun to stain their palms and feet from having to move on all four limbs, dried blood still staining their hospital gown and claws from feasting, horns and tail tainted crimson at their tips from impaling their unfortunate little victims. They felt bad about having to kill such beautiful things, but they had to survive one way or another.

Civilisation was nowhere in sight for miles in all direction, and in a way they were glad. From what they could infer about what Derwyn had said to them, they wouldn't fit into this 'real world' in the state they're in now. The monster they are. Perhaps their only purpose was to be a ruthless killing machine, and they really were flawed. Ruaridh had never thought about freedom — they were born in the lab, as far as they were concerned — but now, with it right at their fingertips, they relished in their new-found release. Sure, it was a change from the sterile walls and chemical scent of the lab, but it was a welcome one nonetheless.

They'd been traveling for a few hours since their last rest, and dusk had arrived by now. Darkness enveloped the forest, and yet activity was still buzzing around. With heightened senses, they could hear everything from little bugs scurrying along with them, weaving through blades of grass like they were weaving through the maze of tall, looming trees.

Until something stopped them in their tracks. They'd been scanning the surrounding area for a while after hearing.. something up ahead.. but their palm had landed on something small and soft. With closer inspection, it was a feather. There were quite a few scattered about.

Ruaridh frowned. What could've happened to cause these feathers to be discarded? Perhaps, like Icarus, a bird had flown too far and had fallen, crashing through the trees and, in its hurry to regain balance, some feathers had been ripped from its wings? It must've been a very pretty bird to have such pristine white feathers. They hoped the poor creature was okay.

Their head whipped around, long platinum hair rustling in the wind before their eyes landed on a silhouette ahead. It was quite far, but it looked man-made. It wasn't slender, like the trees surrounding them, and it wasn't too short, like a clump of shrubbery.

It was a cabin.

Of course, at the prospect of human life potentially being here, Ruaridh hesitated. The only human they'd ever come across was Derwyn, and from that they assumed everyone was like the scientist. But.. perhaps this was different.

The cabin looked safe, unassuming, and peaceful. Although it seemed strange for a single building to be so far from civilization, Ruaridh figured they shouldn't ask questions. Maybe they could investigate some more, perhaps ask for help.

Perhaps, when morning comes. Then they will. For now, the feather still resting delicately in their palm meanwhile, they hid behind the nearest tree and waited for sunrise, hiding in the shadows. Just to make sure.

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OKAY SO UH. I AM FERAL!!!!!! OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!!

so uh! I am very excited because me and @whumpy-wyrms are gonna make a little crossover au of his series, The Last Lab Rat, and Uilebheist A Rinn An Duine :3!!!!!

I. do not have a clue if this will end up being officially the way anton comes across ru, I just had an idea and HAD to write it down, but it's here!! it's existing!! idk the brainrot is brainrotting, so uh! I do hope you enjoyed reading that little drabble! again I'm not sure what will or will not be canon, this is just a tiny idea I had!

uhh it does contain references to chapter 12 of tllr (dew falling from the sky) so. yay tiny detail! uhm. also thought I'd put in anton's cabin for the sillies at the end. I'm very sorry I've no clue what I'm doing but I'm so excited because eEEEE!!!!!!!!!! anyway jay is so cool read The Last Lab Rat!!!!!!!!!

#whump drabble #escaped whumpee #nonhuman whumpee #experiment whumpee #scientist whumper #lab whump #test subject whumpee #ruaridh mullen #whump #AAA IM SO HAPPI!!!!!!! OC SERIES CROSSOVER YIPPEEE!!!!!!

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inkwell-and-dagger · 27 days

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colour is a thing I use very frequently in the process of designing my characters. they can all be reduced to a single colour that is incorporated in their design and / or personality in some way

for example:

Rayan's assigned colour is red. he has a warm colour scheme in his design, commonly wears red, and is always covered in blood. always

Foster is blue. in comparison, their design uses greys, blacks and of course, blues. their demeanour is equally as cold.

Aarin is more of a pastel blue, due to the colour of their eyes and their withdrawn, quiet personality

Zuriel is orange. compared to Aarin, its design is warm and friendly, much like its personality. it and Aarin balance each other out perfectly

Ailean is a light, pale green. due to the white brightness of the lab and their own albinism, along with the fact his design is inspired by a hemlock flower, they have a pale, muted appearance

Madir is beige. this is mostly shown in his design, in the white streaks of his hair from his poliosis and his dark, neutral clothing style

Esrana is a dark purpleish-pink. purple is an elegant colour, wouldn't you say? perfectly describes her, from her hair to her silky smooth accent

Madison is a mahogany colour. a strong colour, yet warm and inviting. she could crush you if she were so inclined, and yet her hands are gentle

Kore is a smoky, foggy grey. hard and cold like stone, scrutinizing eyes judging your every move. a vile man, he is

Zayn is a lavender-ish colour. unlike Esrana, who's dark and unforgiving, he's a lighter, more easygoing person

Derwyn is a neon, bright pink. eager, bright, loud. the colour reminds me a lot of their wide, unblinking eyes

Ezra is white. like ailean, he has albinism, and this is incorporated in his design a lot. he has a pale, light colour scheme, and nobody can really tell whether or not he's actually okay with or against Foster's situation with a captive. he's just.. neutral. white

but what about Ruaridh, you say? well, they're a special case

the lab is the only thing Ruaridh has known. for their entire life, they've had nothing but the clothes that Derwyn gave them, nothing but the books Derwyn gave them, nothing but the injections that Derwyn injected. they've had no outside communication, had never seen the world, had never had a chance to gain their own colour, in a way. they don't exactly have a colour

anyway. I like my ocs

#rayan hyacinth #foster canavan #aarin malchediel #zuriel damaris #ailean-conall hemlock (TS-0166)#madir ahearn #esrana flynn #madison osoro-maguire #kore orion #zayn flynn #derwyn ellis #ezra hendrix #ruaridh mullen #whump #whump oc #oc whump #my ocs #oc

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inkwell-and-dagger · 29 days

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Ruaridh couldn't ignore it, even if they tried.

An incessant thumping lulled them out from slumber, a repetitive, painful hang against their head like a hammer. The source came from right above them, as usual. Having two heartbeats around them got annoying with time, but they were able to repress their instincts, and from then they had thought that it wouldn't bother them anymore. But, alas, they were wrong.

Being in the dark made it all the more worse. Able to focus on nothing but the heartbeat of their new friend — or, at least, that's what Ruaridh assumed; they couldn't be certain whether he or their saviour were friends or foes just yet — made it all the more difficult to repress the thought of shutting it up themself. And they couldn't hold it back for long.

On one hand, they knew it'd be a bad decision to even move a muscle; they begged their body to remain still, pressing their pillow firmly against their ear in the hopes the noise will subdue. But on the other, Derwyn's words echoed in their mind: "If you hear something you don't like, you get rid of it. Understood?"

And Ruaridh did understand, they really did. They knew for a fact that this noise irritated them, and they didn't like it — fuck, they hated it. It was like a constant headache, and Ruaridh would do anything to relieve the pain.

So they made up their mind. Their body felt like it was on autopilot; they couldn't exactly control their movements, only able to observe what little they could see in the dark. Snaking out of bed, perching up on the railing of the top bunk and lowering their head so their horns don't bang into the ceiling.

There he was; they didn't remember his name, but from what little conversation they could recall their saviour introducing them to him, his name began with a "D". He looked so oblivious peaceful, pristine wings sprawled out over the railing of the bed, hanging down the ladder as he slept. Tired eyes closed and relaxed, loosely clutching some sort of creature in his arms. It looked to be some sort of duck? It was unnaturally big, and fluffy, and it wasn't moving or breathing, and had no heartbeat. Why would he sleep with a big, dead duck in his arms?

They cleared the thought from their mind, a clawed hand reaching out to turn him over onto his back as carefully as possible. There were no signs of him waking up, so Ruaridh proceeded.

They couldn't help but feel bad at the prospect of ruining the lovely jumper he wore; it looked extremely comfortable. But they couldn't stop themself from snaking one hand around his neck to hold him down, the other pressing right over his heart and digging and digging and sinking their claws into—

A scream knocked them out of whatever state they were in, and they drew back and slipped from the railing, landing on their back with a loud thump. Beads of blood coated their claws, and his new friend — and what would've been their meal if he were to stay asleep, no doubt — shot up in bed.

"What the fuck?!"

Ruaridh stammered for words, but none would come out; they wanted to apologize, to plead that they didn't mean to, that they couldn't control themself and that they were so, so fucking sorry. But it seemed as though he wasn't keen on listening, as when they tried to come closer, he shielded his wounded body with his wings, a frightened yelp sounding in the darkness.

"Don't— Don't fucking touch me—"

And sure, this was probably said in the heat of the moment — their friend was, most likely, distressed and in pain, and he had every right to not want them close to him — but Ruaridh suppressed a flinch, lowering themself from the ladder again.

They tried to explain themself. "I'm sorry, I really am, I just didn't— I forgot that you weren't—"

But Ruaridh paused, hearing the faint sound of footsteps thumping down the winding staircase they'd been led down with the promise of a warm meal and a bath not even a day ago.

Thump, thump, thump, thump.

Ruaridh knew hiding in the bathroom would just be stalling the inevitable, but they couldn't stop themself from dashing into that small, sterile room.

(TLLR and any other character mentioned belongs to @whumpy-wyrms!! only Ruaridh is mine ;3)

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inkwell-and-dagger · 3 months

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"I am afraid you've grown... obsolete, recently."

That was a new word. Ruaridh didn't know what it meant — they hadn't come across the word in any of their books — and, by the way Derwyn's voice was strained around the word, they could only assume it wasn't good.

Could it be due to their transformation? The pain had subsided recently after their legs had stretched and bent, and their horns and tail had fully grown, but every step they took pacing their cell sent sparks of pain across their palms and feet, so they tried to keep movement to a minimum. Perhaps they weren't getting enough exercise, and that was what Derwyn was irritated about?

The scientist smiled at the subject's usual silence. He had taught them well. "You don't know what that means, do you?"

A single shake of the creature's head.

"Interesting." He sauntered casually into the lab rat's cramped cell, polished boots thumping across the bloodstained ground. She crouched down when he was close enough, staring into Ruaridh's wide, light pink eyes. "Basically, you're useless now. The experiment failed."

The way the scientist said the words so casually made Ruaridh stop in surprise. Useless? What had they done wrong? They'd done everything right, as far as they were concerned — they didn't complain about the agony brought with their transformation, didn't dare to ask for more food when their appetite grew more broad during it. They didn't even ask to be relieved of the pain! And how had it failed? Of course, Ruaridh could only assume that what they looked like right now was what the.. experiment was meant to do to them. Right?

Their bewilderment seemed to be evident, for Derwyn chuckled in twisted amusement. "You, my little subject, hold no purpose to me now. You are meant to be a mindless beast by now, a monster. But look at you," he gestured to them with a gloved hand, the movement alone making the poor subject flinch as if expecting to be hit, "clutching your silly little books, in that same damned fucking corner, hardly making a noise. Pathetic. That's what you are."

The insult was like a scalpel to the heart, and Ruaridh couldn't help but frown. Derwyn's grin only widened, raising her hand and gently pushing the subject's cheeks to force a smile. "No time for being sad, my dear subject. You won't get anywhere in the real world with this attitude."

Ruaridh didn't have much time to ponder what this could mean, for they were dragged out of the corner by the collar of their hospital gown. With a distressed noise, dropping the book they were holding to their chest as they scrambled to regain balance, they let themself get dragged by the scientist... outside of their cell.

What was going on?

The lab before them seemed like a blur, the strong scent of chemicals making their sensitive nose twitch as they were dragged further. Weaving past dusty equipment and tables full of items, from vials of liquids to sharp surgery tools, until a heavy door was pushed open.

The earthy scent that surrounded them when they were thrown out onto the grass outside was new, to say the least. It smelled incredible. But fear clouded their amazement for the mundane forest around them, staring up at Derwyn. He was stood at the door, lab coat ruffling in the wind.

"The real world isn't like what's in those silly books. Good luck out there, creature."

The heavy door slammed shut again, and this time Ruaridh hardly flinched. Scrambling to sit up, they took in the dense, shadowy forest that surrounded them, the noisy sounds of a busy highway nearby drowning out the sounds of morning birdsong.

#OH MY GOD IT'S THEM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#very quick drabble it is nearly 2 am but we're balling either way #ruaridh mullen #derwyn ellis #Uilebheist A Rinn An Duine #whump #whump oc #oc whump #whump writing #writing #experiment whumpee #nonhuman whumpee #scientist whumper #lab whump

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