#Whump series

[whumpback-wail]

Trial by Fire (Wriothesley x Reader)

A group under Dottore was doing a series of human experimentation in a facility in Fontaine. Being the Duke's finacée, (y/n) was captured by one of Wriothesley's many enemies, and sent to the facility to be an experiment subject. After her rescue, (y/n) was not the same. Battling PTSD while having no idea of what happened to her, she has a long journey of recovery ahead of her, and Wriothesley is there with her every step of the way.

Contains dark and mature themes, please DO NOT read if you're not certain you can handle the story, warnings listed below. Minors DNI.

Genre: f!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst, a bit of mystery, action, more angst

TW/CW (will add as I go): first draft (will probably stay that way), very dark themes, angst, torture, blood, cpr, wishing for death, panic attacks, ptsd, human experimentation, implied s3xual abuse, verbal abuse, physical abuse, hyperventilation, hospitals, rehabilitation, vomitting, back and forth timeline, mentions of r@pe, pregnancy, ab0rtion, emotional and physical trauma

Updates: Completed!

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters aside from (y/n). This story is 100000% fictional, any similarities to real life people or incidents are purely coincidental. After reading the TW/CW, please DO NOT read if you think you can't handle the story.

Minors DNI

Masterlist:

01 - Make It Out Alive

02 - What's Real?

03 - More Questions than Answers

04 - Investigation Continues

05 - Divulgence

06 - Embrace

07 - Decrescendo

08 - Epilogue

09 - Originally Planned Plot (Bonus)

#wriothesley x reader #genshin impact x reader #wriothesley angst #wriothesley x reader angst #whump #whump writing #whump series #whump fanfic #whump fanfiction #genshin impact whump #genshin impact wriothesley #whump community #genshin character x reader #anime whump

[jordanstrophe]

Abandoned Whumpee

[Previous]--[Masterlist]--[Next] CW: Taken, whumper medic/forced medical whump, stitches, blood loss, defiance, restrained

The last thing whumpee saw was blood leaving their body

... And nearly all of it.

They flicked their eyes open; they were laying on a table with a light beaming on their chest. Whumper was standing next to them rummaging around equipment and didn't notice them awake.

Whumpee silently stared with a horrified gaze. They could see the gloves whumper wore, drenched and dripping with blood. They tried to climb off the table as quietly as they could, but something snagged their wrists as metal clacked together.

Whumper heard the sound, spinning around as whumpee was frozen almost half-off the table. "Easy, easy now. You just got a lot of stitches." Whumper softly spoke.

Whumpee plummeted into sheer panic. They tried to sit up, but a weight around their chest strapped them down.

"Oh no no no, take a breath, we're almost done." Whumper tried to soothe. They grabbed whumpee by the hip and pulled them back to the center of the table. They tightened the strap around whumpee's chest and gave the binds on their wrists a tug.

"Wh-y ... Why are you do-doing th- ss... Le-let me go-" Whumpee heaved. Whumper touched their forehead as whumpee flinched and squeezed their eyes shut. They hoped when they opened them next, whumper would be gone.

They ended up not being able to open them at all.

.........

.........

Whumpee could barely blink awake. They felt numb.

They were laid on a stretcher in an infirmary; their enemies infirmary, nonetheless. There was a blanket tucked around them as whumpee frantically ripped it off and pulled their shirt up. There were perfect stitches and a well dressed wound on their side. Their right arm had a silver handcuff that bound their wrist to the bed.

Whumpee let out a long, drawn-out sigh. What had they gotten themselves into...

"How do you feel?" A voice asked.

Whumpee looked up; whumper's head was poking out from the side of the divider watching them. Whumpee almost gasped, but managed to clench their jaw instead.

"That's a cute expression. Really though, how do you feel?" Whumper came out and crossed their arms.

"You saved me." Whumpee hissed like an accusation.

"Yes, you're welcome. How do you feel." Whumper repeated more sternly.

"Why would you save me? You ... You of all people. We're enemies. You were supposed to kill me on sight." Whumpee narrowed their eyes.

Whumper sighed and dragged a hand down their face. "You still don't understand..." They sat on the bedside as whumpee tried to jump off, but the handcuff held onto their wrist. "Is that all you think you're worth? Nothing but a sacrificial cattle? A lamb for slaughter?"

"-Yes! Yes I do!" Whumpee shouted over them. "My sacrifice was worth it to me. Because I stayed back, my team is safe now. Safe from you." Whumpee snapped and leaned in. "You lost."

Whumper stared with a raised brow; they were mostly surprised whumpee had the energy to throw a fit.

"You know, you're not the only one they've left behind." Whumper shrugged. Whumpee cocked their head to the side without taking their eyes away.

"Every time we corner your team, one person always gets left behind. It's sad, really. Your team's been getting picked off one by one if you think about it. Was it your turn to die?"

Whumpee swallowed past the pit in their throat. "Look... If you saved me just to get information out of me, then I'm terribly sorry, you've wasted a lot of your time. You know I'm willing to die for them, so either get it over with, or let me go." Whumpee spoke behind clenched teeth.

"Let you go?" Whumper belted out laughing, "My darling little lamb, that would be the same as killing you!" They wiped a tear and put a hand on whumpee's knee.

"What's that supposed to mean." Whumpee swatted their hand off.

"Then let's say I let you go. You go running back to your team, they see you alive, intact and... Well, they'll assume you gave them up." Whumper pulled the blanket back around whumpee and tucked them back in.

"-And then, they'll kill you."

Whumpee's face went blank, both fists clutched the blanket, their eyes didn't cry, but glossed like they wanted to. They wished whumper was playing mind games, but there was truth in it. Their team would assume they were compromised and whumpee was the cause.

"Regardless if I left you or took you, you're dead to them. You wouldn't be welcomed back; would be one of us." Whumper poured a glass of water and nudged it into whumpee's hand. They barely reacted, they were far gone in their own thoughts.

"Now I'll ask you one more time."

"How do you feel?"

[Masterlist] - [Next]

@parasitebunny @starzabove @frog-hat-fa-ggot @morning-star-whump @memepsychowhowantsuperpower-blog @mommymarichatfurever​  @isita-torrrres @tobiaslut

#whump #whumpee #whumper #abandoned whumpee #gentle whumper #intimate whumper #captured whumpee #medical whump #stitches whump #injured whumpee #kidnapped whumpee #soft whumper #whump series #whump writing #whumplr #whump community #whump angst #hurt/comfort #defiant whumpee #restraint whump #creepy whumper

[whumpslist]

Zorro’s whumps’ list

(referred to main character Zorro / Diego de la Vega, portrayed by Miguel Bernardeau; *bonus: Enrique Monasterio, portrayed by Emiliano Zurita.]

Season 1

.01: brief scuffle and under swordpoint during a training session, received upsetting news about his father's death and tears in his eyes, grief, shot at and unpleasant confrontation, nightmare and rough awakening, upsetting news and conflicted, fought against multiple armed soldiers twice, rough sword fight, zorroed himself on his chest.

.02: red fresh Z sign on his chest from previous episode, into a hostage situation during a robbery and under gunpoint, pistol-whipped at his neck, under gunpoint, scuffle and almost shot, worried and defeated, conflicted, brief scuffles and sword fight.

.03: harsh confrontation and sort of shot at, various scuffles, gun pointed at his head, disappointed, lured into a trap and under gunpoint, under gunfire and captured, hands tied above his head and identity exposed, upsetting news and almost shot in the face.

.04: hands tied above his head from previous episode, stabbed and heavily breathing, collapsed and dragged by his arms, laying unable to move and heavily breathing, moaning, falling from the horse, taken care of, feverish, upset but unable to leave the bed, shirt stained with blood after an effort and fainted, helped laying on the bed and wound exposed and bleeding, moaning helped getting undressed, Z scar on his chest, pale, wound taken care of, hand pushed against the wound and groaning in pain, under arrow point, into a duel with swords.

.05: upset, blade at his throat twice, Z scar on his chest, brief scuffle against two armed men, under gunfire and brief scuffles, under gunpoint, disappointed.

.06: ackward conversation and uneasy, Z scar on his chest, upset, brief scuffle, under gunpoint, under gunpoint and chloroformed, passed out and kidnapped, slapped in the face and helped getting up, pointed the gun at his own head and pressed the trigger without consequences, chloroformed again and grabbed when collapsed, upset; *bonus Enrique Monasterio: shot with an arrow at his shoulder, bloody and taken care of.

.07: blackmailed, rough scuffle and pushed to the ground, blade at his throat and heavily panting, upset and heartbroken, difficult conversation and conflicted, annoyed.

.08: brief scuffle, threatened and upset, bitten, angry and argued, rough fight and stabbed, upset and crying.

.09: unpleasant conversation and identity exposed, massaging his injured leg, under gunpoint, sword fight, grieving his father and tears on his cheeks, upset and conflicted, indignant, stabbed in flank and shot at, fallen from the horse semi-unconscious and taken care of, groaning and heavily breathing, grunting in pain and passed out.

.10: holding his flank because of the injury from previous episode, received upsetting news and agitated, moaning during physical effort, harsh confrontation (on purpose), intense sword duel, harsh confrontation (for fake), under gunpoint, rough sword fight and cut at his thigh, stabbed in the back and collapsed on his knees, almost killed, grunting in pain while getting up, pale and sweating, upset, silently crying on his father's grave, rejected, emotional goodbye; *bonus Enrique Monasterio: intense sword duel, stabbed and collapsed (dead for fake), shot at then swordfights.

In the original book "The Mark of Zorro" (1919) by Johnston McCulley: brief scuffle, various chases, rejected, brief scuffle, fought and chased, sword duel without consequences, surrounded and rescued.

#Zorro #whumpslist #episode guide #Diego de la Vega #portrayed by Miguel Bernardeau #serie tv #tv series #tv shows #tv show #telefilm #whump #whumps #whump series

[whumpy-wyrms]

some silly Dew and Anton doodles :3

#i remembered to draw dew’s glasses 3 out of 5 times here #that’s a new record #the last lab rat #tllr art #dew oc #anton oc #basil oc #my art #whump art #whump #whumpblr #whump community #whump blog #whump series #whump oc #lab whump #needles #restrained #winged whumpee #test subject whumpee #scared whumpee #captive whumpee #carewhumper #creepy whumper #intimate whumper #scientist whumper #whumpee #whumper #whumpy wyrms art

[mewintheflesh-2]

Whumper promising whumpee they’ll finally get a bed if they’re good for them for an entire month. Only when the time comes all they find in their cellar is just a bedframe, no mattress. Whumpee doesn’t say anything and just hopes the mattress will come eventually, but it never does, so they’ll have to just sleep on the uncomfortable slats instead. Eventually this proves to be too uncomfortable, so they opt to sleep on their pile of tattered blankets instead.

Whumper takes notice of this and punishes Whumpee for being ungrateful. One punishments for every night spent not sleeping on the uncomfortable, cold, sharp, metal slats.

#Whump #whump prompts #whump prompt #whumper #whumpee #whump series #whump scenario

[jakkon-and-rose-topic]

CW: Mentions of Forced Cannibalism, Eating disorders, Suicide, and Alcohol abuse

The world felt cold. Empty. No one left to talk to besides Rose who was too worried about him to be any fun in a conversation. He hadn't told her yet. He hadn't told her that he'd found out what had happened to Eveny's corpse.

He hadn't told her that he'd had to listen to Rune and Eveny's screams for hours that night. Not that he'd been tortured every day for weeks before it happened. Not that he'd only be there to protect Rose.

Nothing. She knew nothing.

He stared out over the city, glittering lights below and faint voices in the distance. It was peaceful. But the silence let him think. And he wouldn't think about anything but what had happened. About how the massive scar stretching over his whole torso still hurt though it was healed. About how he still remembered the feeling of ropes around his wrists and ankles.

About the feeling of skin in his mouth, the taste of metallic blood. He closed his eyes, trying to force it out of his mind. But it kept returning. The dead eyes of so many he knew. The way their corpses would be more desecrated each night as he was forced to dispose of the evidence, unable to move or even cry out for help.

And he especially hadn't told her about the last of the ten corpses. About the familiar twisted purple wings. The Burnt remains of grape vines, the shriveled petals of pink lilacs. He would never tell her. He would never tell her that he now knew how wings tasted.

He remembered every second of it as vividly as if it had been his last. The scratchy sting of Eveny's faded magic as he thrashed in the ropes and his mouth was jammed shut around it. The crunch of shattered bone, the ashy sting of burned flesh in his throat when he wanted to scream, spit it out, or even tear his skin open to get it out. But immovable and in agony, he'd just had to accept that this was what had happened.

He hadn't told Rose any of it. Not how only a week ago he'd had to listen to Rune and Eveny's desperate screams in his head One he'd killed as a mercy, and the other he'd eaten against his will.

The screams for hours with the threat that if he left, it would be Rose too. He hadn't told her that he'd tried to kill himself that night. How he couldn't even look at food anymore without being sick.

The Satyr wrapped his arms around himself, hollow and terrified. He should do it. He wanted to. To jump over the edge now and finish what he'd started. But for some reason, watching the lights and clutching a bottle of wine in his hand, he didn't.

Dated one week after the Incident where Rose Found him, and one month after he found a way free of the ropes.

Happy Fuckin Angstpril everybody (Eveny is his Wife, Rune is his son, and Rose is his Sister-in-law)

#creative writing #fiction writing #writeblr #writer things #writers and poets #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #writing #writing community #whump #whump series #whump writing #whump prompt #whumpblr #whump community #whump tropes #whump scenario #whump stuff #because whump

[whumpystuffy]

Whump list - Stargate Altlantis (2004-2009)

John Sheppard portrayed by Joe Flanigan. Plus some of the Ronan, McKay & Beckett whumps.

Trailer for the series.

Season 1

1x01-1x02 Tasered, grabbed by throat, slammed to table.

1x04 Alien stuck on neck, in pain, immobile, numb legs, grunting, heavy breathing. Defibrillated, no pulse, CPR, in med bed.

1x05 Under gunfire, shot with stun gun, unconscious. Sore, hit by explosion blast.

1x09 Gun point, captive, interrogated, betrayed.

1x10-1x11 (Plus major McKay whump)

1x12 Under gun fire, shot, bleeding arm wound, field medicine. Slams into invisible force field. Fight, slammed across field twice, cracked ribs.

1x19 Shot stunned.

Season 2

2x03 Shot, stunned, unconscious. Captive, tied up, gunpoint,

2x05 Ship crash, surrounded, outnumbered. Tied up, threatened. Fight, punched. (Plus Ronan whump)

2x07 Attacked, pinned down, bleeding arm wound.

2x08 Wound from previous episode, on stretcher, field medicine. Infected with mutating virus, angry. Shot stunned, coma, antidote.

2x10 Shot stunned, unconscious, captive, tied up. Forced to do OP, shot stunned, unconscious, captured. Forced to kneel by telekinesis.

2x11 Continuation from previous episode, interrogated, thrown into cell. Forced to kneel by telekinesis.

2x12 Attacked, thrown around multiple times, clawed on back, bleeding, bruised face. Field medicine, magically healed.

2x14 (Plus major McKay whump)

2x16 Shot, bloody shoulder. Shot stunned, unconscious, cuffed, dragged. (Plus Ronan whump)

2x17 Ambushed, gassed, unconscious. Tied up, needle injection in neck, gunpoint, captive.

Season 3

3x01 Captured, manhandled.

3x02 (Plus Beckett whump)

3x03 Sick, cold, coughing, sneezing.

3x04 Shot with tranquilizer, tied up, caged, manhandled. (Plus MAJOR Ronan whump)

3x07 Shot by grabbing-hooks in vest, slammed to the ground, captured. Failed escape, electrocuted, dragged, tied up. Tortured, life drained, weak, bleeding chest wound, punched.

3x12 Headache, bleeding from ears, eardrum blown, in med bed.

3x16 (Plus Ronan whump)

3x17 Training fight, punched, slammed to the ground, grunting in pain, ice pack on face.

3x19 Forced to kneel with telekinesis. (Plus Ronan whump)

Season 4

4x03 Shot stunned, unconscious, dragged. (Plus Ronan whump)

4x04 Fight with himself inside dream. Defibrillated, flatlines.

4x05 Captured, tied up, manhandled, blood test forcefully taken, interrogated, tortured, punched repeatedly, bloody bruised face. Failed escape, beaten, shot stunned.

4x06 Infected, sweating, forgetful, shot stunned, in med bed.

4x10 Hit during training, bleeding eyebrow cut.

4x11 Shot stunned, unconscious, tied up, interrogated.

4x12 Shot stunned unconscious. Captive, manhandled, forced to kneel with telekinesis.

4x15 Thrown across room, slammed against wall, strangled.

4x17 Attacked, air sucked from room, suffocating.

Season 5

5x01 Hallucinating, under collapsed building, in pain, object in abdomen, heavy breathing/bleeding. Field medicine, discharges himself, sweating.

5x02 Infected, restrained, seizure, flatlines, cpr. Impaled by vine, in med bed.

5x03 Ambushed, betrayed, punched, unconscious, dragged. Kicked, kneeling. (Plus MAJOR Ronan whump)

5x09 (Ronan & McKay whump)

5x11 Hit by explosion blast, ringing ears, glass shards in back, field medicine.

5x12 Gassed, unconscious, captive, manhandled, on trial.

5x14 Fight, strangled, punched repeatedly, bloody face bruise. (Plus Ronan whump)

5x15 Shot stunned, unconscious, tied up. Failed escape, interrogated, beaten up, punched, bloody face. Manhandled, hand cut off, in pain.

Man I really like Lt. Sheppard. His whumps were really great and so defiant! Not a lot of them but still some. Also a really watchable show in general. A gem I can recommend!

#stargate atlantis #john sheppard #Joe Flanigan #whump list #whumplist #whump #spoilers #series #whump episodes #whump series #McKay #Beckett #rodney mckay #Ronon Dex #carson beckett #lt sheppard #Sheppard

[cpt-winters]

Hostage / Kidnapping Whump - Part One (Part Two)

His shot went wide as he staggered, a loud bang ringing through his ears as something tore between the gap of his chest and shoulder armour plating. Warm liquid trickled through the soldier's fingers as he pressed a hand to the wound, raising his rifle back on his opponent with the other. The next shot simply pinged off Whumper's armour.

There wasn’t time for Whumpee to even register his bolt thudding into the wall as his back hit the floor, his opponent already grappling him to the spot. He winced as the attacker jerked his arm to the side, flaring up his shoulder as his vambrace was lifted clear and clattered to the floor beside them.

“It’s nothing-” The mercenary grunted as he wrestled against Whumpee’s arms. “-personal.”

“Tell that to everyone you shoot?” he bit back, muscles straining as his wrists were forced together. Whumpee continued to buck against the other, leg rearing up until his kneecap connected.

Fingers jammed into his wounded shoulder, earning a gasp from him as they sank deep into his bloodied flesh.

Panting as the gloved hand was jerked back out, Whumpee glanced back down as the binders clicked around his wrists. “Fuck you.”

The other paid the comment no mind as he slid Whumpee's sidearm from its holster, clipping it to his own belt as he shifted his weight, getting back to his feet.

Watching the man as he reached for the vambrace abandoned on the floor, Whumpee kicked his leg up again, heavy boot slamming into the mercenary’s crotch plate. With the other man instantly buckling over, Whumpee allowed himself a scoff before going for another kick.

Whumper lost his footing as Whumpee swiped a leg behind his knees, sending him to the ground with a heavy thud.

Scrambling around as his opponent recovered, Whumpee reached for his rifle, the familiar click of a gun behind him freezing him in place.

“Let’s not do anything stupid.” The mercenary walked back around, weapon sights trained on Whumpee's head as his other hand fiddled with his comlink. “Now, tell your buddy to meet back up,” he instructed, kicking the rifle out of arm’s reach.

“Go to hell,” he spat, shooting the other a glare as his helmet was lifted off.

Tossing the helmet to the side as he switched on the comlink, Whumper soon dropped it in favour of freeing up his hand.

Whumpee let out a pained yelp as the knuckle plate dug back into his shoulder, metal tearing at the ripped flesh before coming back red. Still catching his breath, he bawled his fists as the man stomped down on his comlink a moment later to cut off the brief transmission, electricity crackling as sparks spewed out under the pressure.

“Any more funny business and he’ll run in just in time for me to blow your brains out.”

Whumpee’s gaze wandered over to the door as the mercenary’s quiet footsteps circled back behind him. “He’ll kill you. You know that, right?”

“We’ll see.” He made no further comment as the seconds trickled by, the barrel of his gun lightly pressed against Whumpee’s temple.

#whump #stoic whumpee #team whump #protective caretaker #team dynamics #defiant whumpee #military whump #forced to kneel #whump snippet #male whumpee #kidnapping whump #hostage whump #this whole thing is (adapted) scenes from a star wars roleplay (: #whump series #captivity whump

[dinkflocculent]

Caretaker Master

Part One

The moonlight shined through the window. The crimson blood is in contact with the light. Blood was slowly spilling from whumpee's body. They were alone. They had no energy to stop the flow, yet it wouldn't do a thing even if he did. Whumpee is going to die. Cold, alone. Without any of their loved ones, just their horrible, haunting memories of the last six months.

The sound of pounding footsteps stabbed at whumpee's ringing ears. They were only imagining it. No one was here to save them. Yet that small grip on reality deep inside his mind told him to believe it. So, he listened.

"Whumpee!"

The voice was familiar.

"--going to be okay."

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't keep his eyes open. His mind was begging him to sleep. Follow the light.

"--eyes open. Whumpee? Whumpee! Look at--"

Darkness. It filled his vision. It was all he saw, and he liked it. It gave him a sense of relaxation and calmness for once in a long time. He didn't want to leave it. He wants to be in this forever.

He opened his eyes, light piercing his vision. It felt like his eyes were burning. The room was so bright. They weren't laying on the hard cold floor. It was a soft mattress. They were in a hospital bed.

The beeping of the machines, IV connected to their arm, and breathing mask was worrying. They could move but were too weak to get out of bed. Whumper had captured them again. But why take them here? At the hospital? Why would whumper want to make them feel better?

The creaking of the doors pierced whumpee's ears. He began to panic. He didn't want to face whumper. Not like this. He slid the oxygen mask off his face. Now to rip the IV drip. He took a deep breath before the pain hit him.

"Whumpee, no! Leave it alone."

The soft, familiar voice stopped whumpee in his tracks in an instant. It was caretaker. They hadn't seen her in years. Was she his new master?

"That's there to help you. We don't want you to lose more blood, do we?"

Whumpee's hand violently shook as caretaker took it. She seemed to notice it, so she went as slow and soft as she could. Grabbing the oxygen mask, whumpee scooted back, thinking it might be drugging him.

"You need this. I know this is scary, but it's here to help you."

Whumpee stared at the mask as if it would pounce and bite him.

"Please? I promise it won't hurt you."

They looked into caretaker's eyes. When she didn't recorrect whumpee, he scooted closer. Caretaker carefully slid the oxygen mask over whumpee. He could breathe better.

"Now, rest. You'll go back to the base in a few days. I'll be right here, alright?"

"M'kay," whumpee said sleepily.

The feeling of drowsiness overcame whumpee. He closed his eyes and slowly fell asleep, caretaker watching him with worry and relief.

This new master seems nice.

#whump #whumpblr #whump scenario #implied whump #whump prompt #whump tropes #whump community #whump idea #whump prompts #whumpee #whump things #whump series #recovery whump #whump writing #conditioned whumpee #rescued whumpee #obedient whumpee #caretaker #master caretaker

[dreamingkdrama]

Nam Seon Ho just looking unearthly beautiful...

#kdrama #korean drama #asian men #korean #kdrama whump #my country: the new age #mctna #nam seon ho #woo do hwan #apemctnagif #apedramaedit #kdrama edit #korean actor #jtbc my country #whump series #asian whump

[whumpback-wail]

04 - Investigation Continues

Trial by Fire (Wriothesley x Reader) - TW/CW in masterlist

[<<< previous chapter] • [masterlist] • [next chapter >>>]

“The production zone could use a hand in inventory, I think the work there may suit you more than manually making the Gardemeks, that one requires a lot more strength,” the guard looked up from his clipboard and gave her a smile, "don't hesitate to come to me if you have any problems."

That was three days ago.

(y/n) was honestly taken aback. She had expected people- prisoners to be more… Rude? Rough? But everyone here seemed to be nice with each other.

Shaking her head, (y/n) reminded herself that it's only a matter of time. She's innocent, a victim caught in the spider web of investigation and lies, and Navia is on the surface working to get her out. If there's anyone (y/n) can trust, it's Navia.

Anyway, (y/n) needed to speak with the Duke. He was away when she first got to the Fortress, and the production people had kept her busy since then. Perhaps after hours at night? Is he even back yet?

She sighed and resigned herself to stacking boxes of spare parts on shelves. (y/n) had categorized each area assigned to her so that it becomes easier for her when the time comes to get specific boxes ready.

(y/n) eyed the final box, it was filled with scrap metal, but it was completely full. The only empty spot that goes for that category would be the one further up. She looked around for more empty boxes, perhaps splitting up the contents would work-

Distracted by her thoughts, she did not see - nor hear, the sound of heavy boots walking towards her. Suddenly the man was already beside her and picking up the box.

"So does this go into that empty slot up there?"

(y/n) turned to look, and came face to face with a tall muscular man, her own height barely passing his shoulder. He donned a black shirt under a grey vest, with his jacket draped over his shoulders. His hair seemed to have a permanent bed head style which shows off the grey tufts in between the black ones. He looked like someone who would enjoy energy drinks while listening to heavy metal music, she thought, before she snapped out of it once she noticed his steel blue eyes looking into hers, awaiting an answer.

"Um… yeah there." (y/n) pointed at the empty spot.

He placed the box there seemingly without effort. He clapped the dust off his hands and loosened his red tie. "You're new here."

It wasn't a question.

"Yeah," (y/n) replied.

-and I'm not supposed to be here, I'm innocent. I was framed.

"Sorry I wasn't here when you came in. I'm the Duke."

(y/n) stared at him. So that's why he was dressed so differently from the other guards, despite the similar colour scheme.

"Y-your Grace." She nodded at him politely, "I'm (y/n), I was hoping to see you to discuss some things regarding me being here."

• • •

After further checks from the doctors, she was given the clear to see more visitors. Navia had rushed inside after that. She was the first familiar face she had seen after Wriothesley. (y/n) missed her friend dearly.

However, (y/n) could tell that Navia was being careful with both her words and touch. Navia did not ask anything about her time in captivity, instead choosing to speak more mundane everyday things, like what cake she likes lately. Wriothesley must have warned her, or maybe the nurses did. Eitherway, the visit was kept short, a nurse then came to get her when the time was up.

Once visits were over, Wriothesley was the one who kept her company while she had dinner, then he had to leave to meet up with Neuvillette to discuss matters in regards to… the recent events. He had made sure that she was asleep before he left, leaving her room at the capable hands of the two guards outside.

It felt almost like a routine now. Every few days Wriothesley, Navia, and Neuvilette would meet at the safety of Neuvilette's office, occasionally joined by Aether and Paimon, which was the case this time.

“Wriothesley,” Paimon greeted, ”how’s (y/n)?”

“Her recovery is progressing nicely. Now that visitors are allowed to see her, why don’t you stop by to say hi sometime.”

Aether nodded, “sure, we’ll stop by before we go take another commission tomorrow.”

“It was nice to see her again,” Navia smiled as Wriothesley took a seat next to her, “still, (y/n) felt different, sometimes her eyes glaze over as if she’s elsewhere, then it focuses on you again. I can suggest you some therapists if you’d like? I’m sure (y/n) would need one eventually.”

Wriothesley nodded at her, “I would really appreciate that, thank you for lending us your men too, Navia.”

Clearing his throat, Wriothesley went straight to business. "Anything new?"

The two shook their heads.

"The Spina di Rosula managed to track down a handful more men who worked under Arderne,” Neuvilette explained, “but none of them have any useful information. The only other person they seem to think has any information is a guy named Dougier. They say he worked directly under Arderne.”

Wriothesley paused, the name sounds familiar. Wasn’t he…

“He’s part of the Berrett society, wasn’t he?” Aether asked, “Is he still in Meropide?”

Wriothesley frowned. “No. His sentence was over a month ago, right before… Before my fiancée was taken.”

“Hmm… so he’s involved,” Neuvilette took a sip of water out of his fancy glass. Why is it that only Nuevilette can drink plain water that elegantly? “I’m not surprised. After all, the man did have a grudge against you for uncovering his schemes that time, Wriothesley.”

"That explains a lot." Wriothesley mumbled, he unclenched his fists, not realizing when he started feeling that tense.

"We'll need to track down Dougier next then?" Aether asked.

"Yes, I'll dispatch some of my men to ask around my network." Wriothesley answered.

"Spina di Rosula have been scouring the area for him but there were no traces, they reported that it was as if he disappeared." Navia pondered, crossing her legs as both gentlemen looked up at her, "but we all know people don't just disappear into thin air, it's possible we overlooked something. Let's go over the chronological order once again.

• • •

(y/n) jolted awake. Another bad dream, she’s safe now, there’s nothing to worry about.

She directed her gaze at the sofa, which was devoid of her husband. Is he still outside? She knew he was investigating her case, so perhaps he’s meeting up with Neuvilette and Navia.

Suddenly she felt nauseous.

Again?

These past few days she kept waking up with nausea, but this was the first time she felt the strong urge to vomit. (y/n) quickly pressed the call button and clumsily stumbled to the toilet using her crutches. She lifted the toilet bowl and emptied the contents of her stomach.

“(y/n)?” She could hear nurse Komaki in her room.

“I’m here.”

The door to the bathroom swung open, and nurse Komaki quickly rushed to her side. She held up (y/n)’s hair as she continued to retch and dry heave into the toilet bowl.

“Did you just wake up before this happened?”

“Yeah.” (y/n) felt tears pricking behind her eyes. She remembered clear as day the things that happened to her in the facility, but part of her refused to accept a specific event that kept recurring.

It can't be… right?

"Uh... Nurse Komaki?" (y/n)’s voice was shaky

"Yes dear?"

(y/n) hesitated. She didn't want to do this but she had to make sure.

“May I… Is it possible to get a pregnancy test?”

Nurse Komaki’s eyes widened, she leaned in closer to her, eyes filled with a mix of sympathy and worry. “Of course dear. No questions asked. I can also arrange to test for any STDs, with your consent of course.”

“T-thank you. I'd need that.” (y/n) sighed in relief, but then straightened up when she remembered her other point.

“And uh… I believe with the doctor and patient confidentiality you can at least do this much… uhh… Please don’t tell Wriothesley about this.”

• • •

"There, that's it!" Navia's exclamation turned all eyes on her, "you said you found her unconscious and she was not breathing, but she showed little to no signs of memory loss or brain damage, on top of her vision being taken too."

Wriothesley knew where she was going with this.

"Humans will suffer brain damage if the brain is not supplied with oxygen for over 4 minutes." Navia continued.

"Are you saying… her breathing stopped within four minutes of me arriving at her cell? I didn't see anyone come in or out."

Navia nodded, "that is very likely."

Neuvilette squinted at the maps spread out in front of them. "Then… there's a chance that a hidden passage or room is present in the location where she was found."

Paimon hummed, a bit confused, "What about how she retained her memories even without a vision?"

"For now we don't really have an answer to that," Wriothesley got up, "but I'm sure at least Dougier does."

[<<< previous chapter] • [masterlist] • [next chapter >>>]

nurse komaki -> (*´ー)ﾉ(×_×) <- (y/n)

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#wriothesley x reader #genshin impact x reader #wriothesley angst #wriothesley x reader angst #whump #whump writing #whump series #whump fanfic #whump fanfiction #genshin impact whump #genshin impact wriothesley #whump community #anime whump #genshin character x reader

[jordanstrophe]

Hallow Island, 2

[part 1] [Series Masterlist] [Part 3]

CW: Back-handed slap, gagged, bound, manhandled, controlling whumper, kidnapping/imprisoned, sliiight failed escape attempt if you squint

The strap around whumpees wrists and ankles were undone and they were tugged out of their airplane seat by an arm.

Immediately whumpee tried to rip the gag out of their mouth, but whumper took it as an opportunity to get their other arm.

"Easy! Easy now. I don't want to hurt you. Calm yourself." Whumper lulled. The words sickened whumpee to the core as they got one more burst of adrenaline and managed to rip an arm loose.

"HEY!" Whumper yelled, swiping to grab them but whumpee twisted free and bolted out the plane exit just as it opened.

The second their foot was out the door, they ran face first into two guards who seemed like they were waiting right there for them. They each grabbed an arm and pinned whumpee between them, neither budging their grip.

Whumper sniffed angrily and motioned for the guards to turn them around; before striking whumpee hard against the cheek. They whimpered as the side of their face hit the guards arm by force.

"I really tried being gentle with you... Try anything like that again and you'll lose that privilege." Whumper spat, grabbing whumpees face as they flinched.

"Nod if you understand." Whumper hissed.

Whumpees eyes flickered between defiance and fear, before giving a small angry nod. There was nothing they could do between the two guards aside from giving in.

"Splendid. Take them to the hollow. I want them clean and ready for tonight. And check their cheek before they go up for auction, I don't want to see a bruise. It's bad for business." Whumper fixed their sleeve and waved them off.

Whumpee felt weightless between the two guards. If they fought they got yanked so hard their feet went off the ground. The island was surrounded by a sandy beach, their toes left skid marks from where they struggled. They tried burying their heels but all they did was get sand in their shoes.

Despite it being an island, they could see massive glass buildings in the center beyond the palm trees. Up ahead there was a cave with a built in iron wall and door. Whumpee tried to plead with the guards, but all they could do was make sad muffled noises.

The guard on their left never looked at them once. The guard on their right occasionally glanced to make sure they weren't squeezing too tight, at least not enough to leave a mark.

Someone from the inside opened the door. The halls got dark quick and soon enough, whumpee was gently laid down in a cell where they sunk to the floor on their knees. That would be their chance to run if they had the energy; it took the plane nearly a day to get wherever they were and they spent the last energy in pitiful efforts.

"Someone will be by soon to look you over. Just try and get some rest, mmkay?" The last guard spoke, looking over their shoulder. Whumpee ripped the gag out of their mouth and shouted "PLEASE HELP ME!" Before the door slammed shut.

Whumpee let loose a broken cry they had been holding in since they shoved the gag in the first place. 

To be continued- [Series Masterlist]

@enigmawritesstuff

#whump #whumpee #whumper #whump series #controlling whumper #possessive whumper #restraint whump #whump angst #gagged whumpee #kidnapped whumpee #imprisoned whumpee #slavery whump #auction whump #whumplr #whump writting #whump community #defiant whumpee #soft whumper #caring whumper #backhanded whump #failed escape attempt #tw slavery

[avvail-whumps]

‘the facility’ — the breakout 1/?

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content warnings: prison whump, medical whump, captivity, imprisonment, prisoners of war, mass prison breakout, minor character deaths, blood, gun and knife violence, murder, manhandling

Noah’s wide eyes flickered desperately around him, as if trying to make sense of the deadly warning that had just rang out. As though it was some cruel, unfathomable joke, the automated voice spoke again.

“Code: Black.” 

The personnel that had been speaking to him slapped their hands over their mouth, backing up with staggering footsteps. They gave Noah a wide eyed stare, before they were racing out of the laboratory with panicked speed. 

Soon, everyone else followed. 

“Code: Black,” the voice crackled. “Level Nine. All staff make their way to…gency…Code—” 

Over the blaring sound of the alarm and the dark red tinge concealed over his vision, Noah just barely felt his new assigned Apoid grab his shoulder, and start tugging him out of the laboratory with intense urgency. Once he’d managed to unstick the abhorrent terror in him, the blood boiling panic spurred him on. This was the stuff of nightmares. 

Code Black was only meant to be purely theorectical. The Facility was built to withstand multiple breakouts at the same time, but it must have devolved into something much more serious. If Level Nine was on a Code Black, that meant there was a mass breakout, and lots of angry prisoners would be on the loose. 

The Apoid kept a tight grip of him as they raced down the corridors, filled with scrambling Personnel and scientists and even Apoids, their guns raised in case a threat came racing down the corridor. Noah’s throat was parched, each step foreign on his own two feet. 

He could only think about one thing. Where was Fionn? In a situation like this, Apoids were the last to make it to the emergency elevators. They were expected to execute and contain as many prisoners as they could to buy time for an escape for everybody else, and the last thing he had said to him was not to come near him. 

As the alarms continued to screech, the defeaning sound of gunfire suddenly pierced through the air. The staff that had been racing down the corridor screeched to a sudden halt, a burly prisoner rounding the corner with an Apoid’s rifle in his hand. 

Noah’s eyes widened in shock, and the Apoid threw him behind cover just as he started firing into the crowd. 

He heard a sickening thud next to him, uncurling his arms from around his head, just to meet the wide, bloodshot eyes of a dead scienist. Noah’s own filled with stinging tears at the sickening sight.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” he wheezed, flinching violently when there were more gunshots and blood curdling screams. The Apoid wrapped an arm around his shoulders and hurled him in a different direction, staggering over his own two feet when bullets sprayed against the corner of the wall, just missing the top of his head. 

He struggled to catch his breath.

Dead bodies were sprawled along the ground, patterns of fresh blood, streaks, puddles, hand prints, all surrounding them.

He resisted the urge to throw up as they dashed past, swallowing down the sting of bile in his throat. Noah ducked behind the Apoid as they came to a crossing, raising his rifle and gunning down a prisoner that had been careering towards them. They covulsed and crumbled to the floor, and Noah was glad they were going in the opposite direction. 

The emergency elevators weren’t far from here. As long as they got them and to a safer, higher level that wasn’t in the same situation, everything would be okay. 

Noah was suddenly shoved forward by his Apoid, who didn’t raise his gun time before a huge prisoner had grabbed him by the skull, and slammed his helmet into the wall. The Apoid stuttered from the sheer force, and even as Noah whipped around in shock, he could see he was dazed from the attack. Before he could shoot him, the prisoner had ripped his rifle from his very hands, and cracked his skull back against the wall. 

Noah had to surpress a scream when the prisoner ripped the knife from his belt, and jabbed it straight into his neck. The Apoid went all tense and his legs buckled, but the prisoner was relentless. The knife jerked in and out of his flesh until his throat was mangled, blood even visible against the blackness of the uniform. 

His foot slipped on a puddle of blood when he tried to make a getaway, his chin colliding with the solid ground with a painful crash. His heart was in his throat and his blood was burning in his own ears as he desperately scrambled forward, eager not to meet the same fate. 

Before he could get up, he felt something roughly seize the back of his jacket, and jerk him back. 

“No!” Noah screamed, desperately flailing in the prisoner’s grasp as he wrangled him onto his back, his blood soaked hands slipping against the floor as he frantically tried to squirm away. “Please, please, oh my god.” 

The prisoner’s hard glare looked him over, fingers twisting into his jacket to get a look at his nametag. Noah’s vision was spinning, his head overflowing with thoughts of how brutally he was going to kill him with that knife, that his guts were going to be hanging all over the walls and he would never get to see his family again, and—

The prisoner let out a snort. 

Noah flinched violently when his rough hands wiped away his streaming tears, smudging coppery blood all over his cheeks. The prisoner abruptly let go of him, and he scrambled backwards in sheer panic. 

“You’re gonna wish I had killed you, little man,” he sneered, gripping the Apoid’s rifle in his hands with a smirk. “Better get running before he finds you.” 

He watched with wide, unblinking eyes as he turned away and disappeared down the corridor, as if he expected him to change his mind and finish the job. His eyes couldn’t help but drift to the Apoid’s dead corspe, still convulsing as if he was alive, and Noah let out a harrowing sob. He wrenched away, heaving, before realising he was still sitting in a puddle of someone’s blood. 

Disgust wriggled into his skin, and he forced himself onto his wavering feet, biting back his terrified sobs. 

This was a nightmare. It had to be. 

Just a cruel nightmare. One that he would wake up from, and he’d be okay. 

But then something the prisoner said resonated with him. Better get running before he finds you. Noah didn’t want to think about the obvious implications of that warning; the easy deduction of who he was. It made him wonder if other prisoners knew, if Cash had told them to save Noah for himself. Because that was what he had told him, hadn’t he, when his arm had been wound tightly around his throat?

He staggered, shoulder hitting the wall with a thud. The sobs wracked through his body, constricting the air from his lungs, and it made it hard to even stand upright. Like this terrible weakness was plaguing his limbs. 

Distant gunfire and shrill screams, ones of agony and pain, spurred him onwards. His vision swam at each dead body he came across, stumbling over bloated, bloody corpses, but he knew he needed to get to the emergency elevators - somehow.

The sound of raging gunfire got louder, and Noah sank behind cover before peering down the long corridor. Scientists were cramming themselves into elevators, bloody handprints smeared along the doors. There must have been dozens of bodies on the ground, all sprawled haphazardly ontop of each other, and Noah’s breath caught in his throat when he met wide, bloodshot eyes.

It was a massacre. Scientists and Personnel of all kinds were scrambling to get inside, most gunned down before they even made it, their bodies convulsing and hitting the ground with a thud. 

One elevator, packed with Scientists, had been about to close, before a prisoner with access to an Apoid’s gun stepped inside. There was the uproar of frightened screams, and when the doors slid shut, Noah could hear the distant sound of muffled gunfire. He slapped a bloodied hand over his mouth, his knees buckling. 

It was practically slaughter. 

Prisoners were swarming everywhere on the Level, and everything was spinning out of control. These sorts of emergencies were supposed to be purely hypothetical - never in the history of the Facility had a Code Black ever been announced on those speakers. 

Something twisted in his hair, jerking his head back, and Noah gave a sharp gasp as someone wrangled him onto the ground. A gangly prisoner was ontop of him in seconds, causing Noah to thrash out in panic, sinking a knee into his boney stomach. 

The sight of the knife was enough to spur him into action. 

The prisoner’s fingers were digging into his skin, stinging the flesh, yanking Noah along with him. His heart leapt into his throat when the knife almost slashed across his chest, forcing him to scramble, grabbing the prisoner’s wrist in a tight, desperate grasp. They let out a teeth bared hiss, attempting to violently buck Noah off. They succeeded, for just a moment, and Noah felt their leg shove him off, his back slamming into the wall. 

When they came at him again, he threw himself out of range, boot smacking into their head. 

It was with enough adrenaline fueled force that the prisoner flew back, the knife slipping from their fingertips. Gunfire rained over the top of them, and Noah pressed himself close to the ground, choking on hard pants. He met the prisoner’s eyes, just for a moment, before they both leapt for the knife. 

By some miracle, Noah seized it first, gripping it tight in his hand. 

The prisoner barrelled into him, knocking the wind out of his lungs, their nails scratching at his face and only narrowing avoiding his eyes. The skin tore, beading with little spots of blood, and Noah’s fingers tightened around the hilt of the knife when the pain made his eyes water. A desperate rush smashed into him. He might have told himself that he wasn’t thinking clearly, but he was. He wanted the prisoner to get off of him, no matter what. 

Noah grit his teeth together, jabbing the knife into the prisoner’s neck. It was shocking how easily it went in, straight down to the hilt, and they made a garbled, pained noise, eyes bulging. Noah rolled them over abruptly, the air rushing back to his lungs, before he forced the knife out. A spray of blood erupted from the wound, feeling it drench his hands, and the prisoner’s body violently convulsed, jerking and stuttering, drowning on the fresh liquid. 

Noah forced himself onto his feet, almost tripping over their corpse. The strength had completely lost him, the knife clattering to the ground, tearing his eyes away from the still convulsing body. 

His legs carried him in the direction of the elevators. They were closed, taking Scientists and Personnel to safety, and Noah prayed to whatever was out there, that that could be him. 

He screeched to a halt, hairs pricking on edge when a group of armed prisoners came around the corner, blocking his path to the elevators. Noah felt the world around him spin when their guns tilted in his direction, and he dove into a doorway just as they started firing. He swore he felt it shave the hairs on his head. 

He held back a sob, kicking the door to the room shut behind him, before slamming his still bloody hands on the lock, sticky against the pad. 

Loud bangs reverbated from outside, the prisoners shouting and attempting to force the door open. Noah’s wide eyes were glued onto it, crumbling to his knees, the tears sliding down his cheeks freely. It stung the scratches on his face, but he didn’t even have it in him to wince, numbed by the adrenaline coursing through his veins. 

When the banging stopped, Noah deflated. He lifted his shaking hands, staring at the sticky redness painting every inch of skin, filling his senses with tangy copper. Noah’s face wrinkled, and he let out a harrowing sob. He tried to scrub the blood off, frantically wiping it against the ground, the tears dripping from his chin like a downpour. 

He backed himself up into the corner of the room, curling himself up so he was as small as he felt. The blaring alarm rang through his mind like a cruel mantra, sobbing until his throat went raw. 

This was a nightmare. Just a nightmare - it had to be. Nothing like this could ever happen to him. 

Noah choked on a startled breath, trying not to flinch at the assortment of sounds outside of the room. The crackling of gunfire, the screaming, the huge thuds and bangs. He squeezed his eyes shut, desperately burying himself into his arms. He wasn’t sure how long he had spent huddled in the corner of the room, his head buried between his knees and desperately trying to breathe. 

It didn’t come easy for him, with all of the blazing noises outside, with all of the memories of the dead bodies, Scientists, Apoids and Personnel alike, left as mangled corpses in a pool of their own blood. Noah’s chest stuttered, lungs fluttering, caked in tears, sweat and blood of both his own, and other people. 

He wondered if hiding in here was the best option. 

If the Facility was under lockdown, they would eventually send reinforcements to control the situation. No prisoner would ever leave, unless it was dead. But then Noah thought about Cash, and those dreaded warnings he had got, and he wondered if a door was enough between them to keep the vengeful prisoner far away from him. 

It couldn’t be. 

His puffy eyes squinted, lifting his head up. He wondered what Fionn would say to him. What he was doing right now. Any one of those lifeless Apoid corpses could have been him, and Noah would have never known. His heart squeezed painfully at the thought. 

Above all, he prayed that Fionn was safe. Even though, out of the two of them, he stood a better chance at surviving this nightmare with his training and his weapons, Fynn still couldn’t be sure if that would be enough to make it out of here alive. It hadn’t been for his second assigned Apoid, who he had known for no more than ten minutes. 

Slowly lifting himself onto his feet, Noah numbly stepped over to the door, ever so slowly. 

Hiding wouldn’t work forever - the emergency elevators were his best chance to get to safety. The breakout could have extended to Level Eight or Level Seven, so he couldn’t delay a chance. Ever since the first disruption of chaos, the noise by the elevators had seemed to die down. Noah saw the mounts of bodies, and the amount of prisoners that had been slaughtering them. The initial scramble for safety will have quietened down by now. 

He hoped. 

His heart was pounding against his ribcage like a jackhammer, swarming up to his ears. He counted the agonising seconds that he stood there, staring at the door, not even daring to move. It was as though one breath would give him away. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to shake the blurriness encroaching the edges of his vision. With a firm push, Noah slid open the door. He was met with the same blood soaked hallways, and flinched back when a body slumped unceromomiously by his feet. Another Apoid. He released a shuddering breath, tearing his eyes away. 

With a pounding heart, he checked the corridor. Some shouting prisoners caused him to duck back, but they passed the elevators only after a few moments. The blood rushed to his head. One of them was open - empty and awaiting him, like some sort of enticing treat. 

He had to move now. 

Giving the corridors one final glance, his shaking legs managed to step over the dead body, bracing against the wall. Each little step was as though lead weights were melded into his skin, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling on edge. With each second that dragged on, Noah’s desperation increased. It was like he could taste freedom and safety on the tip of his tongue, and his pace quickened just a bit. 

He didn’t even dare look behind him, blocking out the rips of gunfire in the distance and the ear piercing screams. 

There was a sudden breakout of footsteps behind him, and something hard barrelled into the side of his body. It sent him smacking into the hard ground, almost clipping his chin in an awkward way. He sucked in a sharp, pained gasp, head snapping up to find another scientist making a beeline for the elevator. There was blood dripping down his face, from what he could see, and Noah’s head snapped around in the direction he had come from. 

His heart sank to his boots.

Cash was going at a calm, leisurely pace as he crossed the intersection, those intense eyes finding Noah’s immediately. He hadn’t even broken a sweat, as if he hadn’t been the one chasing the frightened scientists. 

He heard the shrill beep of the elevator, and his heart leapt into his throat. The scared scientist was jabbing frantically at the button, tears slipping down his cheeks, and by the time Noah realised what was happening, the doors were already beginning to slide closed. 

“Hold it!” He screamed, staggering to his feet frantically as he burst forward with a newfound shock of adrenaline. The scientist backed away from the buttons, bumping into the rail, his wide eyes flickering towards Noah. The doors continued to slide close. “Please! Please, hold it!” 

He desperately threw himself at them, but it was too late. Noah pounded his fists desperately against them, a rush of anger and terror making his throat burn. 

“Motherfucker!” Noah sobbed, banging so hard he was sure his hands had gone numb. “Motherfucker! Open the door!” 

Instead, he was met with strong fingers twisting in his hair, and Noah only caught a glimpse of Cash’s face, before he slammed his head into the elevator door. He was out cold instantly.

tag list – @suspicious-whumping-egg @sunshiline-writes @rabidrabidme @whumpatize-me-captain @thegirlwholived1213 @reverie1234 @unforgiven235 @morning-star-whump @seaweed-is-cool @d-cs @whump-me-all-night-long @whump-me @gala1981 @pirefyrelight @whumpterful-beeeeee @miss-unicorn0907 @avidrambling @anoontjecanush @2in1whump @ha-ha-one @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @whatwhump @sowhumpful @whump321

#the facility #whump #whump writing #whump fic #whump series #whump scenario #whumpblr #whump community #prison whump #medical whump #breakout #whumper #whumpee #noah and fionn #noah and cash #writing #my writing #avvail whumps #i have no idea how many parts this will take #its planned but we'll see when its written #whenever that is

[whumpy-wyrms]

The Last Lab Rat #14: Time Flies

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content: lab whump, captivity, sleep deprivation, escape, derealization, gore, gruesome murder, death, needles, mind control, defiant winged test subject whumpee, creepy scientist carewhumper

YAY!! YIPPEEEE!!!!!!! 😈😈😈😈

— 

Tonight was the night, Dew decided. Tonight was the night he’d finally escape.

Earlier that day, he and Sasha silently communicated that they were ready. All Dew had to do now was wait until the snake slithered through the vents and into his room once Anton had gone to sleep. And then… Escape. Their plan was flawless: Crawl through the tight, dark and claustrophobic air ducts, as quiet and quickly as possible, all the way up to the surface.

All he had to do was exit the vents into Anton’s cabin, a place he was only somewhat familiar with, and steal that mind-controlling device from the scientist, then make his way outside as quiet as he’d ever have to be. All he had to do was not be seen, or heard, or caught, or hurt. All Dew had to do was escape, and then he would be free.

Dew had the relatively legible map of the air ducts memorized by now, but Sasha knew it best, so they would lead the way. Dew wasn’t going to bring anything with him. As much as he loved his music, and his sketchbook, and his ghost light, and his… chicken, it was all too much of a liability. All Dew would have with him were his glasses, clothes on his back, and his wings that made the whole escape possible.

He didn’t care if Anton found his plans in that notepad; he’d be long gone by then. He didn’t care that, technically, he’d have no evidence of ever being friends with Sasha, except the memories to hold on tightly to. Dew wished he could bring his sketchbook, wished that it wouldn’t be doomed to be buried deep underneath the ground in the lab forever. Dew’s art was a part of him, does that mean a part of him would always be stuck down there too?

…Dew supposed that whether or not he brought his sketchbook with him, it was true. A part of Dew would always be stuck in that lab. But the rest of him deserved to be free. He wouldn’t let himself be stuck in the past and let the scientist continue to ruin his life.

So that night, after Dew had fallen asleep on the couch and was carried back to his room by Anton after a surprisingly fun birthday party, Dew woke up. He lay awake waiting for Sasha to show up. And as it turned out, they slithered through the vents a lot faster than Dew thought.

“Ssspp!” Sasha hissed, getting Dew’s attention from the vents. “This is it, Dew! Are you ready?!”

“Yeah,” Dew whispered, more determined than he’d ever been. “I’m ready.”

“Sweet! Anton’s sound asleep, so this should be easy!”

“Sasha,” Dew whispered, voice shaking. “You really sure this will work?”

“Of course it will!” Sasha unlatched the vents with their tail, and peaked their head through. “Now hurry up, the sky is waiting for you!”

“O-okay! Let’s do this!” Dew took one last drink of water from the sink, and looked around the room he’d spent the last few months trapped in. He glanced out the window to the dark and empty lab and shuddered. He wouldn’t miss this place. Dew flew upwards, through the vent and into the air ducts.

The journey to the surface was simple and familiar; it was what Dew and Sasha had been practicing for the past few weeks now. They knew all the twists and turns and dead ends and drops and exits. They knew the way out, so they made no detours. They kept going.

Dew ignored that feeling of dread deep in the pit of his stomach, like something bad was going to happen, because it didn’t matter. He couldn’t go back now, and he wasn’t going to.

Dew couldn’t wait to see his friends, especially after his birthday yesterday. They were all probably so worried for him, wondering where he was. But he’d surprise them tonight!

They made it to the exit after about an hour of crawling through the cold metal tunnels. Dew never knew how claustrophobic he could be, especially with the hope that he’d soon stretch his wings and fly through the sky.

Sasha opened the latch with their tail and slithered through, letting Dew into the living room of Anton’s cabin. They were both silent, as if they rehearsed this situation countless times in their minds, and knew that any sort of talking would only reveal themselves. But that was okay, because Dew knew exactly what he had to do next.

And he was more terrified than he had ever been in his life.

Dew tiptoed to Anton’s room, taking anxious glances at Sasha on his shoulders every few seconds. He passed a few large windows, but held back from hopping out just yet. He didn’t want this to end exactly how it did last time. Sasha told him Anton was not a light sleeper, and that if they both kept quiet, this would be easy. Just in and out, quick and easy, no need to get worked up about it.

Dew twisted the doorknob, and pushed the door open with a creak. He winced, but peaked his head into the scientist’s bedroom. It was too dark to notice anything; the blinds of the window were closed, letting in very little moonlight.

Sasha slithered down Dew’s body and onto the floor, quietly moving across the light green rug and climbing onto Anton’s nightstand. They gestured with their tail to what drawer the scientist kept the mind-control contraption in.

Dew nodded and started tiptoeing closer, as quietly as he could. Dew could tell the carpet was soft, softer than anything he’d touched recently. The thought made him want to snuggle up under the covers, safe and warm with no fear of being caught. But instead, he was walking across his captor’s room— while the man slept just a few feet away from him— planning to take back what was his.

Dew arrived at Sasha, who had opened the drawer that held the device. Dew swallowed thickly, glancing at the scientist sleeping next to them. Anton was facing away, curled up in a ball under the covers. The blankets shifted up and down as he breathed, blissfully unaware of what was happening next to him.

Dew reached his hand into the drawer and pulled out the device. With a click of a button, the chip in Dew’s brain would be activated, allowing Anton to control his every action with a small murmur of a command.

He held it in his hands, close to his chest as if any wrong move would activate it and wake up the scientist, leaving Dew frozen in place, caught red handed, in Anton’s own room.

Sasha saw the fearful look in Dew’s eyes and slithered up his arm and onto his shoulders, beckoning him to get the hell out of there. Dew turned around and began to tiptoe across the floor, too afraid to look back.

There was a shift, a sound of something moving behind him, and Dew all but had a heart attack. Stomach dropping, assuming he was done for, Dew peaked over his shoulder.

He let out a sigh of relief when he saw Anton had only rolled over in his sleep. Still, it was enough to make him book it out of there. He shut Anton’s door and raced to the front door, flinging it open and stepping outside.

“We-we did it,” Dew cried happily. “We did it!”

“Not yet, destroy the thing now!” Sasha hissed.

“Right.” Dew held the device tightly in his hand, raised his arm, and smashed it into the ground. Pieces of metal and wire exploded beneath him in every direction. It was completely destroyed. Just like that, Anton couldn’t mind-control him anymore.

Dew smiled, and looked up at the sky. There wasn’t a cloud in sight, and Dew didn’t remember the last time he saw so many stars. He giggled, looked back down and kicked pieces of the device across the grass. He took a deep breath of the cool, fresh autumn air and stomped on the pieces, jumping up and down, laughing happily. He missed the sound of the fallen leaves crunching beneath his feet, and kicked them in the air like confetti. It was the middle of the night; the moon was full and bright, allowing Dew to see everything in the darkness. Dew loved full moons. It was beautiful.

Once he was calmed down, he turned to Sasha, who was coiled around the porch railing. “I can’t believe I really did it,” He said, smiling and sniffling.

“Please, Dew, fly away! Be free!” Sasha exclaimed happily.

“I… I will.” Dew took a glance at the sky, and looked back at Sasha. “I-I’m gonna miss you so much. Th-thank you. Thank you Sasha.”

Sasha giggled. “You’re welco—”

The front door suddenly slammed open. Anton stepped out, hair disheveled. He raised a tranquilizer gun.

Dew jumped, his wings taking full control. Sasha sprang towards the scientist, coiling their body around Anton’s face and briefly blinding him. Dew’s wings flapped rapidly through the air, mimicking his terrified, racing heart. Sasha grabbed Anton’s gun with their tail, flinging it away into the grass. Anton took a few steps forward. Dew was flying. Sasha coiled around Anton’s head, muffling his calls before he could yell out.

“Fly Dew!” Sasha cheered, ignoring Anton’s attempts to pry them off his face. “Fly!”

Dew blinked his tears away, and darted off into the sky.

. . .

Dew never looked back, scared that if he did, he’d wake up, and all of this would turn out to be a dream.

But it really was real this time, wasn’t it? Dew was flying. Dew was finally, finally free.

He cried for what felt like forever, fueled by adrenaline as his wings did all the work on spreading as much distance from him and the lab as possible. It was the fastest he’d ever flown before, and the highest. After an hour, he flew higher, away from the trees and into the clouds. The further he flew, the more clouds there were and the darker it got. Was it going to rain? Dew was giddy at the thought. Flying in the rain. How much fun would that be?

Dew soared through the forest, doing loop-de-loops in the sky. He loved the feeling of wind in his hair and space all around him. There was a flock of nighthawks, and Dew flew with them. He giggled as the birds squawked at him, as if he was one of their own.

Anyone walking through the forest would have heard loud laughter from above them, cries of happiness through the trees. Dew was celebrating his freedom with his fellow winged friends, and he couldn’t be happier.

Dew never got tired, and he never stopped. He wanted to look at the sky, at the bright full moon, but there were clouds. So he flew above the clouds, higher than he ever had, until he couldn’t see the ground. Dew looked around himself and was surrounded by complete nothingness; a vast abyss; a void. He was completely alone up there. It was only him, the beautiful moon, and the infinite stars above him to keep him company. It was the most at peace he’d ever felt with the universe. Up here, he was truly free.

Dew fell down into the clouds again, getting misted by the water droplets inside, and fell towards the trees. Catching himself at the split second, Dew did it again. And again. He was ecstatic! He was flying! This was the best day of his life!

As he soared through the sky and took in the amazing sights of everything he’s always wanted to see, always wanted to experience, Dew realized he was getting thirsty. He was still in the woods, so there was surely to be a river down there he could drink from.

Dew dropped down to the ground and landed gracefully into the dead autumn leaves. The second his legs touched the ground, he stumbled, grabbing a tree to balance him.

Oh. He was tired. As the adrenaline of escaping started to wear off, the events of the night started to catch up to him. Dew was tired, hungry, and his entire body was sore after flying that much. His wings were burning, begging to rest. His entire body was begging to rest after barely getting a few hours of sleep the past few days.

Dew walked through the forest, listening to the sounds of the wilderness. He missed the summer, having gotten it cut short. But fall was his favorite season. And hey, at least he’d be home for Halloween! Maybe he’d even get a costume in time.

He heard rushing water, and knelt down next to the creek. Dew cupped his hands and lapped up as much cool water as he could, then stood up.

Even though he had never been anywhere near this place before, he turned to a direction and started walking. And after a little while of gaining his energy back, he flew.

. . .

After what felt like forever, Dew had spotted civilization. He realized very quickly that there was a problem.

He couldn’t let himself be seen. Not by anyone. Not yet.

He’d been missing for months and would suddenly return with giant wings. No matter what sort of attention he’d get, none of it would be in his favor. He wasn’t stupid; he knew that scientists all over the world would kill for a chance to study his wings. There’d be no point in escaping just to be sucked back into another hell. Dew kept close to the clouds, hoping that if anybody looked up, they’d think he was just another bird.

Dew couldn’t believe how amazing flying felt, he almost didn’t want to stop. In the back of his mind, he’d thought about eventually having to convince his friends to move out to the countryside with him, so that way he could fly all the time without being seen. He was giddy at the thought that maybe, he’d eventually find a way to bring his friends into the sky with him.

But he was getting ahead of himself. He didn’t even know where he was, after all. But he followed the birds, and continued on his journey.

And then, high up in the night sky with the autumn air flowing through his wings, Dew spotted it: his house. His home. Where his friends would be waiting for him! Dew cried in joy as he soared downward, racing to the ground like a meteor, like a shooting star. Once he landed on trembling legs, he stumbled up to the front door.

Dew couldn’t believe it! He was out! He was back! He was home!

It had to be around 3 in the morning by now, so nobody was around to see him and his wings. Dew looked at the house; the place he’d been dreaming of coming back to for so long, and it didn’t feel real. Dew tried the doorknob, but it was locked.

Of course it was; his friends knew how to keep themselves safe, unlike him. If only he knew of the dangers of the night, maybe he never would have been kidnapped by the scientist. But it was no use contemplating the past. Dew instinctively checked his pockets; empty, of course. So he fished out the spare key from under the doormat, and unlocked the door. Dew didn’t bother knocking, or ringing the doorbell, or even announcing his return when he opened the door and peeked inside. He lived here too, after all.

Dew was still standing in the doorway. He took a deep breath, and then a careful step inside as if the floor would drop out and he’d fall into the vents back at the lab, as if he was still crawling through them like he’d been doing every night and all this was just his mind playing tricks on him.

But that didn’t happen, so he took another step. And then another. And then he whipped around and slammed the door shut, wincing at the loud noise it made, but quickly locking it closed. There! The scientist couldn’t get him in here! He was safe!

Dew laughed quietly, wiping the tears from his eyes. He was really home. He was home!

Dew wanted nothing more than to collapse in his warm bed and snuggle with his friends and pets in the comfort and safety of his home, because god, he was so fucking tired.

Dew took a few more steps though the house until he smelt something strange. Cake? He sniffed into the air. That was odd, but he ignored it. He walked down the hallway, not bothering to kick off his shoes he no longer had, so he didn’t notice his old pair lying next to his friends’. Dew entered the kitchen, and stopped in his tracks.

All around the room was a mess of colorful streamers and confetti. There were balloons littered around the floor and some floated to the ceiling. A half eaten birthday cake sat on the counter. Dew tripped on a piece of stray wrapping paper as he walked up to it. Written on the cake in light blue icing were the words, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY…” and he was sure there was supposed to be a name on the other side, but it had been eaten.

Right away, Dew realized there was something wrong. He expected to find his friends waiting for him, excited to finally see him after so long. He expected a reunion filled with tears of joy and happiness. But he instead got birthday party decorations, and his friends were nowhere in sight.

Dew walked further inside his house until he entered the living room. The TV was still on, playing episodes of his favorite show— the same one he had watched last night— but the volume was turned down so it could hardly be heard. Hanging on the walls was a sign that also said happy birthday, with balloons in the shape of a two and a three floating next to it. 

Dew frowned, racking his brain on what all this could mean. Sure, his birthday was yesterday, but Dew had been gone— missing— for months. Surely his friends weren’t just celebrating his birthday without him. That wouldn’t make any sense. And why do all this when they could be looking for him? Why waste time with cake and… a pile of opened birthday presents… when he wasn’t there with them?

Dew’s mind raced. What the fuck was happening? Who was this all for? Why was his birthday celebrated without him? Who had opened his presents? Eaten his cake? Who did they sing to? Who made his wish?

His head pounded. He had been awake for… a very long time. Dew hadn’t gotten a full night's rest in who knows how long. Was he hallucinating? Had his sleep deprivation finally caught up to him?

Dew looked down, and his eyes widened. Sleeping on the couch, snuggled up close in a warm blanket and Sir Bonkles sleeping between them, were Dew’s best friends Hayden and Layla.

It was the first time Dew saw his friends in months, and all he wanted to do was hug them. But now, Hayden and Layla looked so peaceful sleeping there, he didn’t want to wake them up. So he didn’t. Dew was so tired now, maybe he should just ignore all of this. Maybe he should just go to sleep and pretend everything was back to normal. Besides, he didn’t feel like explaining how he got his giant wings right now. He’d rather sleep in his own bed, and rest now that he was home and safe.

Dew numbly walked to his bedroom and shut the door. Everything felt like a haze. He slid down the wall and curled up on his soft carpet. He couldn’t bring himself to cry, he just wanted to sleep.

Dew pulled himself from the floor and walked to his bunk bed. He climbed his ladder, and was just about to collapse into his soft bed when he froze— almost falling backwards onto the floor and needing to flap his wings to keep himself from losing balance.

“W-what?” He breathed. The blankets in front of him were clumped up as if there was a body underneath. As if he was sleeping there already. Dew raised his arm and poked at the lump, then shook it, then squeezed his hand and ripped the blanket from the sleeping form.

For a split second, Dew thought his friends had replaced him. Let a new friend move into their home and take his place, take his role and name and identity and birthday. But they would never do that. They loved Dew.

…But apparently not enough to tell apart the real one from the fake.

His sleep deprived brain must be making him hallucinate; that was the only explanation. Dew blinked a few times, wiped his eyes, and even pinched himself. He was still there. He wasn’t hallucinating, and this wasn’t a dream.

“Hey,” Dew said quietly, voice cracking. The body stirred, but didn’t wake up. “Hey!” He said, loud enough to wake himself up but quiet enough for his friends in the living room not to hear.

There was a sleepy murmur. The blankets shifted again as whoever was there rolled over and opened his eyes sleepily, just waking up from a peaceful slumber. And then he noticed Dew, and his entire body went rigid.

They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, both frozen in time taking in each other's identical features. The person in front of Dew had his same brown eyes, his same wavy brown hair, his same dark freckles, and the same look of pure terror and confusion on his face.

But there was something different. Dew looked at the man and saw himself, sure, but before. The person he saw was full of innocence and obliviousness. He did not know the horrors that Dew had faced during the last two and a half months. He did not know the pain and agony and fear Dew had to endure. He did not know the escape attempts and homesickness and how much he could possibly miss his friends. He did not know what Dew had fucking gone through.

“W-what? What the fuck? Who are you?” The fake Dew asked, sitting up and wincing as he hit his head on the ceiling. Dew was frozen, staring back in disbelief. His stare must’ve been intense, because it caused the person on his bed to back up into the corner, afraid. He was scared of Dew.

That’s right. Dew probably looked much different, didn’t he? Eyes tired and sunken from his lack of sleep, and face filled with months worth of constant fear and pain. The giant white wings protruding from his back, along with a strange blue sweater. His pants and socks were now muddy and torn from hours spent trekking through the forest.

Looking at the “Dew” on the bed was like looking into a mirror of the past. A past so far gone that Dew could hardly recognise himself. It was as if nothing had changed. As if nothing bad had ever happened to him. As if the past two and a half months were completely erased.

Dew caught himself staring— almost similar to how Anton always stared at him— because there was no fucking way any of this could be real.

“Who are you?” Dew asked brokenly.

“What? I– I’m Dew!” The man exclaimed, looking even more confused. “Who are you? What the hell are you doing in my house? Why do you look like– like… What’s going on?”

Dew ignored his questions and hopped off the ladder onto the carpet, wanting to get some space to think. He looked around the room numbly, ignoring the other Dew who had started crawling closer to the edge of the bunk bed, watching his every move.

Laying on the floor was his old hoodie, the one he recognised instantly because of the patches that were sewn into the fabric. It was the hoodie he was wearing when he was taken to the lab, the hoodie that Anton had to “throw away” for an unknown reason and replace it with hospital gowns and blue sweaters.

Dew turned his gaze elsewhere in his bedroom. There were new polaroid photos hanging up on the walls, likely taken by Layla. Dew walked closer to inspect them, noticing that he, Layla and Hayden were all in them. But Dew never remembered getting those photos taken. And he knew for sure they had never gone to whatever amusement park they were at in those photos.

He looked so happy, they all looked so happy. There were no photos of just Layla and Hayden, it was all three. Even in some love boat ride, it was the three of them. Dew’s stomach turned.

Dew ignored the sound of movement from behind him, the sound of somebody slowly and carefully crawling out of the top bunk and down the ladder. He ignored the fearful and curious eyes staring directly at him, staring at his wings. He ignored the other man standing there silently, unmoving and afraid.

Sitting on the nightstand was Dew’s old headphones and MP3 player. He could tell because they still had old, faded minecraft stickers on them, unlike the ones Anton had given him. The only thing that was different— new— were the glasses sitting on the nightstand. Anton never had taken Dew’s glasses away.

There was a card on the nightstand as well; a birthday card. Dew reached for it, and looked inside.

“Hey!” The clone said, marching closer to him and snatching the card from Dew’s hands. “That’s– that’s mine…” His voice trailed off once Dew snapped his head in his direction, silenting him with his gaze.

“What does it say?” Dew demanded.

“It– It doesn’t matter! What even– can you just tell me what’s going on? Why are you here? Who are you?”

“I’m you!” Dew exclaimed. “Can’t you tell?! Can’t you fucking recognise me?! Or did Anton take away every sense of self when he made you?!”

“I– I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“You’re– You’re a clone of me! Y-you have to be! Probably made by the scientist after he took me! This is my house! This is my room! These are my things! This is my fucking life! You can’t just– you can’t– just pretend to be me! Pretend to feel how I feel, and act how I act! You can’t!”

Dew exploded in pent up tears and rage. He felt like this must be a dream, because the other Dew looked so scared, and Dew only ever looked like that when Anton was around. But he wasn’t here, because Dew was home.

“Am I dead?” The impostor asked. “Are you an angel?”

“No,” Dew spat. “We’re– we’re not dead. Everything’s fine.”

Nothing about this situation was fine. Not only was Dew sleep deprived, tired, anxious, confused and afraid, but he was also standing face to face with some sort of clone that had taken his place.

It was silent for another moment, and then, “Are those wings real?” The clone asked.

Dew’s eyes shot up, glaring at him. “It doesn’t matter,” He gritted between his teeth. This person– this thing had no idea what Dew had been through; the pain getting those wings had caused him. And this man was staring in awe at something he would never begin to understand, as if Dew was just some animal to gawk at.

"Are you real?"

Dew wasn't the only one wondering that, then. “I’m not sure,” He said blankly. Because it was true. For all he knew, this could all be a dream— hell, it felt like that more than reality. Dew would be more surprised if this was real.

“Are you me? Like, like from the future or something? Really, what’s going on?” 

The questions didn't cease, and when the clone reached out to touch Dew's wings, he finally snapped.

“NO!” Dew exclaimed, slapping the man’s hand away. “Don’t you fucking dare touch my wings! You don’t know anything! You don’t know what I had to go through to get here, to– to get here and find you in my place!

“You’re not me! You’re nothing like me! You’re just– just a lie! Just a fake! You’re– you’re not su-supposed to be here! You’re not supposed to be here. I’m supposed to- to be free and with m-my friends an-and—” Dew’s words trailed off into sobs.

“...Are you okay?” The clone asked softly. Dew looked up, not realizing he was sobbing uncontrollably until his wings wrapped around his body in a tight hug. He was asking him if he was okay. After everything, after stealing his life, his clone was asking him if he was okay.

Dew’s sobs came to a stop in disbelief. He looked up, and saw the clone standing there with a thoughtful expression, someone who was trying to be nice. Pity.

“Do you want a hug?” The other Dew asked, so so gently that Dew forgot about everything and decided that, yes, he did want a hug, a hug from anyone else that wasn’t the scientist. It had been so long since the last one.

Dew nodded, wiping his tears as best he could and opened his wings. The clone stepped closer tentatively, and wrapped his arms around the other. He squeezed him tight, and Dew hugged him back, his wings wrapping around them both in a comforting embrace. Dew sobbed into his own shoulder, hugged his own body, and felt his own heart beating in a chest that wasn’t his.

But this wasn’t real comfort. If this was real, Dew couldn’t go on like this anyway. The world wasn’t big enough for two Dews; his friends wouldn’t be able to adjust to being friends with two of the same person, much less while having to adjust to… everything that had happened to him. Like having wings, for starters.

And Dew couldn’t forget what this impostor did. He stole his friends, he stole his life. He was the reason nobody was looking for him, and probably never had been. He was the reason Dew was trapped in that hell for so long, filled with a false hope that eventually, somebody would find and rescue him! But because of this clone, nobody even knew Dew was gone in the first place.

Dew’s eyes opened and drifted to his nightstand. He reached towards the drawer, and opened it quietly. There sat a small pocket knife, one he had always kept for self defense, in case anyone ever broke into his room during the night.

He never thought he’d be using it against himself, as the person who had broken in. But he also never thought he’d be experimented on by a mad scientist for two and a half months straight, and yet here he was.

Dew didn’t hesitate. He stabbed the knife into his clone’s back, making him gasp out in pain and push his arms against Dew’s body. Dew tightened his grip around him, turning the hug that had just been something comforting into something that would lead to his demise.

“St-STOP!” The clone shrieked, and Dew twisted the knife deeper into his back. The clone hissed in pain, squeezing his eyes shut and flailing under his grip.

Dew pushed his clone to the ground and pounced on top of him, planting a hand over his mouth to muffle the screams. The clone let out more strangled grunts as Dew pulled the knife out from underneath him, causing blood to spray all over them both. He stabbed him again. Tears and blood painted both of their faces until they couldn't tell who was who or what was what anymore.

Dew dug the knife into his chest and stared into those identical, wide and scared brown eyes until the light behind them went out, and he was once again the only Dew left in the world.

Dew didn't realize he had killed the man until he found his room eerily silent. The body lay still on the floor, limbs sprawled out in what one can only imagine as a desperate but futile struggle to get away. Dew sat in shock on hands and knees over his own body, tears dripping onto his own face until his sleepless brain started to register what had just happened.

Dew stood up, rapidly trying to get away from the corpse when he forgot he was still holding the knife to his chest, pulling it out of the body as he stood. Blood sloshed out and around the corpse in a pool or red.

Dew dropped the knife to the ground in disgust and horror, terrified about what he had just done. The knife clattered to the floor, laying neatly in the bloodied carpet glistening in the moonlight that shone through the windows.

Dew collapsed to the floor in despair, curling into a ball and staring at his own corpse for what felt like forever. Time and space blended together in a haze and Dew clutched his pounding head in his hands, wishing for his suffering to finally end.

He killed him. He killed him. He never wanted to kill anyone! This wasn’t supposed to happen! He wasn’t a murderer!

Dew was so lost in his own mind that he hadn’t heard the footsteps making their way through the house and to his room.

“Well…” Dread panged in Dew’s chest when he heard a familiar voice coming from the doorway. “I see you’ve met the clone.”

Dew’s blood ran cold. There was nothing else he could do.

“Dewey, Dewey, Dewey…” A dark chuckle. “I didn’t think you had it in you.” Dew tearfully looked up to see Anton, standing in his doorway.

“No,” Dew choked out, hyperventilating. “No, no no no no!” He backed up with frantic pleads, all in a hushed tone as to not wake his friends in the other room. “No, g-go away. Plea-please go away.”

Anton didn’t stop walking, and Dew was quickly backed into the wall. He pressed his back against it, ignoring his wings’ protests, just wishing he could disappear and never come back. His hysterical sobs didn’t cease, and Anton was now standing only inches away.

“L-l-leave me alone,” Dew cried between sobs. “Ge-get out, go aw-away. Please please just go away.” Dew saw Anton’s hand move from the corner of his eye, and he slid down the wall in defeat, expecting a needle to be drawn.

Instead, Anton knelt down and put his hands over Dew’s mouth, hushing his cries. Dew looked up in surprise, his wide eyes filled with fear and desperation, silently pleading up at the scientist.

“Shh,” Anton cooed. “Wouldn’t want to wake up your little friends.”

Dew blinked heavily, more tears falling down his cheeks and all over Anton’s hand, but he didn’t pull away.

“Nice room you got here.” Anton spoke quietly, almost gently, but there was a venom in his voice. He clicked his tongue. “Too bad everything’s covered in blood. Do you realize the mess you’ve made?”

Dew sobbed harder into Anton’s hand. He squeezed it tighter. “Be quiet, Dew.” Anton warned. “If your friends wake up, they won’t get out of this. Behave. You can do that, right?”

Dew squeezed his eyes shut, more tears falling, and nodded his head.

Dew felt more terrified than he had ever been in his life, which made his next moves strange. He slowly brought his hands up and put them on Anton’s wrist, slowly pulling the man’s hand down from over his mouth. Anton let him.

“P-please,” Dew whimpered. He spoke as quiet as he possibly could, leaving his voice as nothing but a small squeak. He was completely covered in blood, both his own, and the other’s. “Please, An-Anton. Please don’t hurt m-my friends, I’ll– I’ll do anything.”

Anton sighed. “What am I going to do with you? I won’t. Let's go back to the lab, I'll clean up your mess later.”

“...Back to the lab?” Dew whimpered.

“Yeah? Where else would we go?”

“I-I can’t go back there. Please.”

“You can. You will.”

Dew didn’t have the energy to argue with the scientist, and he didn’t know if he ever could again.

Anton patted his head. “Good,” He said, and smiled. Dew looked to the ground in utter defeat.

The scientist stood up and stretched. “Your sense of direction is astounding, I'm surprised you found your way back.”

Dew stood up on wobbly legs after him, sticking close to the wall. “...How- How'd you get here so fast?”

Anton shrugged, “Doesn’t matter.” He looked down at the dead body in curiosity and amazement. “Man, you really did a number on that guy, huh. Oh well. I can always make another one.” Anton chuckled.

“You cloned me.” Dew’s voice broke, face full of betrayal.

“I did tell you nobody would be looking for you, didn’t I? I know you have a lot of questions, and I don’t blame you. But I’ll answer them when we get back to the lab, alright?”

“...What are you gonna do to me?” Dew whimpered.

“What do you mean?”

“I– I escaped.”

“Ohh.” Anton sighed and ruffled his hair. “I knew about the vents, Dew. I know how hard you two worked on your little scheme, and I didn’t wanna ruin the excitement.”

“Y-you…” Dew felt sick to his stomach. “You knew?”

“Of course. I decided to play your little game. I wanted to see what would happen if I let you have some control.” Anton chuckled. “I didn’t think it’d be murder. I can’t say I’m not impressed. But you had to leave right after I threw you a whole birthday party? That hurts.”

Dew didn’t know if this could get any worse. His life was over, in more ways than one. Anton knew he was lying the whole time. There was absolutely nothing he could hide from him. There was no point in fighting anymore, Anton would always win. This was the worst day of his life.

“Like I said, I’ll answer your questions later. Let’s go.”

Dew tried to walk out his bedroom door, but just thinking about walking past his sleeping friends made him feel sick. He leaned against the doorframe, trying to gain his balance again. Anton noticed his struggles and walked up to him.

“You must be exhausted, huh? C’mere.” Dew didn’t resist as Anton picked him up into a bridal carry. The scientist walked out of Dew’s bloody bedroom and passed his friends on the couch. Dew sobbed louder when he caught sight of tranquilizer darts sticking out of their necks.

Oh. That’s why they didn’t wake up from all that screaming. Oh. Anton had been there the whole time.

“C’mon man,” Anton sighed. “I thought I told you to be quiet? Your friends are fine. I’ll get everything cleaned up before they wake up, promise.”

“Okay,” Dew squeaked. He hoped, with every ounce of hope he had left, that Anton was telling the truth.

Anton looked down at his test subject and tilted his head. “You’re tired, aren’t you?” Anton asked, though he already knew the answer. Dew nodded numbly. “...I can help you sleep. If you let me.”

Dew looked up. “Just– Just make it stop. Make everything stop.”

Anton nodded thoughtfully, pleased that his test subject was finally on the same page. “Sleep, Dewey,” Anton whispered into his ear, and continued walking.

And just like every other time Anton decided to control his mind, Dew started to succumb to sweet unconsciousness. His eyelids were growing heavy, and it was hard to keep his head up as he was carried out the front door. Dew’s frantic thoughts began to disperse, and his breathing grew slow and even; relaxed. His head lolled to the side, resting on Anton’s shoulder as he felt rain pouring down on them both. He looked to the sky, the stars, the moon, knowing he’d never see them again.

Dew could hardly keep his eyes open when Anton arrived at a car, which was parked on the street in front of his house. He couldn’t move his body when Anton laid him down on the backseat, and covered him with a blanket. The only noise he could hear was the rain pouring down as they drove into the night. And then, Dew finally fell asleep.

. . .

Sawyer had spent all night thinking about what Dew had told him earlier, at the surprise birthday party he and his friends had thrown for him. Sawyer missed him too, more than anything. Sure, Dew was happy now, with Hayden and Layla. He had confessed his year long crush on them only a few weeks ago at that amusement park they went to, and they took it as well as they possibly could. Dew was happy now, and he didn’t need Sawyer.

…But that didn’t mean Sawyer couldn’t still try. They were all polyamorous, surely they’d have room for one more, right?

Sawyer would tell Dew how much he means to him, like Dew had told him earlier. It would probably be awkward– because Sawyer was probably the most socially awkward person ever. But he couldn’t stand to hide his feelings any longer, even if it did ruin a lifelong friendship with his favorite person in the world. But knowing Dew, he’d never let that happen anyway! There was really nothing for Sawyer to worry about.

Sawyer ran through the streets back to Dew’s house, choosing to wait no more. If he wanted things to change, he would make them change himself.

Sawyer arrived at the front door, but hesitated when he heard talking coming from the other side. Sawyer wasn’t one to eavesdrop, but the voices sounded… off. He recognised Dew’s in an instant, of course, having spent his entire life listening to him talk about anything and everything. He knew Dew like the back of his hand, which made what he was hearing horrifying.

His friend sounded utterly terrified. He was crying– no, sobbing. Sawyer hadn’t heard Dew cry like that since his parents passed away years ago. Something terrible was happening and Sawyer was ready to break down the door just to comfort his best friend. But then he heard another voice, this one unfamiliar.

Sawyer put his ears to the door, trying to listen in. But the words were hushed and muffled. His heart sped up. What did this mean? What was going on in there? A very intense gut feeling stopped Sawyer from opening the door to find out. He backed away from the door when he heard the footsteps and voices getting closer. And when the doorknob started to twist open, Sawyer leaped into the bushes.

He cursed at himself. How anti-social could he be? To hide in the bushes at his friend’s house to avoid confronting him– while he was obviously going through something terrible, no less? Fuck, Sawyer wasn’t ready for any of this. It was best to just go back home.

He started crawling out of the bushes, heading towards the back of the house when he stopped in his tracks. He noticed the voices had stopped talking, but they were outside. Shit– did he get spotted? Sawyer cringed. How embarrassing…

Sawyer peaked over his shoulder and saw somebody facing away from him, walking towards the street. He crawled forward to get a closer look, stomach dropping in horror at what he saw.

It was Dew– it had to be! But he was drenched in blood and had two giant wings sticking out of his back. He was crying. But he looked so tired, resting his head against the shoulder of the person carrying him– someone Sawyer didn’t recognise.

Something was very, very wrong. Sawyer decided against confronting them, or going inside and making himself known to whoever else could be in there. He had to get out of there, or he felt like his blood would be added to the mix. Sawyer ran through the rain, back towards his home.

Sawyer and Dew had been best friends since childhood. Sawyer still remembered the day they met on the playground during recess. He couldn’t imagine a life without Dew. But now Dew was in trouble, and he was the only person who could save him. Sawyer knew something had been off with his friend the past few months, but he didn’t know what. Now, his suspicions were confirmed, and he was terrified.

The only thing Sawyer knew for sure, was that no matter what it took, he’d get his best friend back.

— 

fun fact: this was one of the first Dew and Anton scenarios i ever came up with, way way back before they even had names! hahahaha! anyway i think this is like the best thing i’ve ever written i hope u all liked it hehehe :)

taglist: @whumpinthepot @shywhumpauthor @whump-me-all-night-long @whump321 @fuckcapitalismasshole @sorry-i-spaced @theelvishcowgirl @catnykit @tettlod @delicateprincepaper @rejectedbytheempty @mijajaj @anothertawogsideblog @creppersfunpalooza @toyybox @parasitebunny @bottlecapreader @thecareandkeepingofwhumpees @inkwell-and-dagger @vidawhump

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

#the last lab rat #my writing #lab whump #whump writing #whump #whumpblr #whump community #whump series #winged whumpee #test subject whumpee #scientist whumper #carewhumper #creepy whumper #captivity whump #death #gore #sleep deprivation #mind control #needles #begging #escape #recapture #clones #derealization #defiant whumpee #escape attempt #sawyer’s trying his best okay #is it obvious that i have absolutely no idea how to write crushes or romantic relationships #because i dont

[fleur-a-whump]

HELP

I'm trying to find a pet whump series that I read ages ago and stupidly didn't save. Pet Whumpee is living with Caretaker, who is like very out of sorts and does not know what to do with this person (I think it's in BBU but not positive). Whumpee is very soft and sweet and quiet and spending time with Caretaker helps but I think Whumper is like friends with Caretaker and keeps coming in when Caretaker isn't around to punish Whumpee and Whumpee is just like yep this is how things are alrighty then. I think at one point Caretaker finally figures it out and does their best to shut Whumper out of their lives; Whumper doesn't like that and kidnaps Whumpee. I think it basically ends with Whumpee somehow killing Whumper and making his way back to Caretaker and like The End Happily Ever After. Idk man it's a really good series and I have no clue how to find it PLEASE HELP

#whump #bbu whump #pet whump #whumpee #pet whumpee #caretaker #whumper #idk how else to tag this hnnn #whump series

[chaotic-orphan]

Intoxicating Fear - Masterpost

Ongoing Series

“Oh yes,” said Omen, tone reminiscent. “Old Mentor went mad trying to stop me, poor dear.”

“You drove him crazy! You weaponised his own mind against him,” Kit said, hatred colouring his voice. Omen smirked.

“I was going to do the same to you,” said Omen, his voice flowing through Kit’s ears like liquid silver. “It’s a favourite of my many gifts. Not at all fit for combat like lightning or water, but I can break you without breaking a sweat. Even before I took your mind you couldn’t lift a finger against me.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Omen.

It was a whisper, a rumour, the bogeyman - nobody who met him lived to tell about it, or if they did, they didn't remember. Almost everything about him was unknown until he drove Mentor mad and claimed the notoriety for bringing the world's greatest Superhero to heel.

On his first solo mission, Kit, the hero Malyn, gets far more than he ever bargained for. Omen takes Kit as a trophy, a play-thing, a puppet - addicted to being Kit's biggest fear.

Will Kit escape Omen, or is he doomed to be Omen's puppet forever, or worse... end up like Mentor - mind melted, hospitalised, and scared of his own shadow?

Main Characters

Kit Mallory (22) — Malyn

Kit showed incredible promise in the young Hero Academy and was offered to be Mentor's sidekick, the greatest Superhero in the world. Kit took the offer, Mentor taking him under his wing as if he were family and soon that's what they grew to be; family.

After Omen attacks Mentor, Kit's entire life is uprooted, unraveling before him and he's consumed by vengeance, promising Mentor he would avenge him. He just didn't expect to meet Omen so soon, so suddenly, so unaware.

He’d be damned if he let Omen know that.

Oskar Ambrose (26) — Omen

Not much is known about Ambrose. That’s the way he likes it. The less people that know about him the better, and yet, there was something about Malyn that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Something like a puzzle that he wanted to solve.

Never before had anyone made Ambrose not want to use his powers to force them to submit. Malyn… he was like the gift that keeps on giving— life is too short not to abuse a Hero every once in a while. If during the course of his meddling it happened to further his own agenda, well — that would just be an added bonus.

Chapters

Part one - Introductions

The Old Fairground

A crude awakening

Instant Regret

Breaking balls

Know your place

Part two - Homeward Bound

6. Welcome home 7. The Great Escape 8. A visitor comes a-knocking 9. Much needed alone time 10. Reprieve

Part three - A devil’s bargain

11. A deal with the devil 12. Breakdown 13. Family time

14. Wake up call

*~*~*~*~*

Guys I finally made a masterpost of intoxicating fear!!!! Oh my god it was such a pain trying to find the last update but now I don't need to! YAY! Also, just purely stole Whumblr's HIWTHI masterpost template but listen... if you wanna be great you got to look at the greats okay - it's like a masterclass in masterposts and blog organisation okay?

Also if you are waiting on updates for this series - don't worry, the next part is on the way, even get a cheeky sneak peak at the chapter title ;)

BUT if you ARE waiting and you need some whump to satiate that URGE and you haven't read Whumblr's HIWTHI - before you thank me, you are welcome - AND IT's completed so no wait times - okay ENJOY!

#intoxicating fear #intoxicating fear masterpost #hero villain writing #hero villain snippet #writblr #writeblr #creative writing #my writing #Kit Mallory #Oskar Ambrose #I am so great at tagging #whump writing #whump series #whump story #whump masterpost #ooga booga #self sacrifice #self sacrifice whump