#experimentation tw

[yanderemommabean]

Hey Momma!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[collabwithmyself]

It's been reruns the whole time.

A sequel to this comic- Hito is unintentionally and unknowingly yanked into a deeper dive of Milton's psyche, and gets a glimpse of something that he wants to stay buried. And Hito's not great at asking questions, even when he's got a lot of them...

Milton belongs to @wizardmolars.

[i-reblog-shadow-the-hedgehog]

Too Much Time AU Part 3

Part 1 | Part 2 | > Part 3 < | Part 4

Keeping POV on Sonic and Tails for the beginning here!

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

Sonic paced around the village impatiently. What the hell did Shadow mean, unfinished business??? He barely gave them any information, and he's already left. Sure, Shadow said he'd be back tomorrow, but that's an entire day away! He didn't even talk about living arrangements...

Sonic passed by Tails' workshop for the 34th time that hour, but noticed his buddy waving. He sped over, skidding to a stop just in front of the door. "You got an update on your analysis stuff?" he asked.

Tails nodded, waving him inside. "Sure do. I've got good news, and..." He pauses, sucking in air through his teeth. "Well, I'm not sure if it's bad news or not, but..."

Sonic interrupted him. "Tell me all of it. We'll figure it out."

Tails fiddles with a tail as he explains. "Well, the good news is you don't need to go to a medical doctor. At least, not yet. The other news... I couldn't figure out what they did to you. I'm going to need more time, but there has to be something to find. You were gone for a week, they can't have just kept you in stasis... it just doesn't make sense."

Sonic shrugged and smiled. "Why not? Maybe they just didn't know what to do with me! It's hard to improve on perfection, after all."

Tails' brow furrows as he sighs and shakes his head. "Sonic, you are so reckless, you know? Just... look, stay around for the next day. At least until Shadow comes back... if he does."

Sonic pouts. "But sitting around is boring!"

The fox's eyes narrow. "Sitting around is the only thing you'll be doing if this shit turns out to be detrimental to you."

"Woah-ho, easy there, buddy! Language! Fine, I'll stay around... just, give me stuff to do, at least."

......

......

Sonic woke up early and flopped onto the couch, flipping through TV channels. He noticed something odd and went back a couple channels, leaning forward. “BREAKING NEWS” scrolled across the bar at the bottom, as images of smoke and fire billowing out of a distant military base filled the screen.

"... bringing us to wonder, was this a coordinated attack? Or was it simply a malfunction within the facility? Rescue teams have been unable to get inside, and for the moment we don't know if there are any survivors. Up next, the weather."

Sonic rewound and paused. He squinted. Something about this place feels familiar. He was just about to put his finger on it when he was interrupted by a knock at the door. He was at the door in an instant, opening it.

Shadow stood there, looking exhausted. He came inside without waiting for an invitation. "Shadow? Where'd you go off to?" Sonic’s question went unanswered as Shadow stared at the TV. An emotion flickered across his face, one Sonic couldn't quite place. Shadow snatched the remote off the table, changing the channel as he did. "Hey! I was watching that!" Sonic whined.

Shadow glared at the blue hedgehog. He tossed the remote over, which Sonic caught easily. "Dude, what's your deal?" Shadow slumped onto the couch, getting out his notepad and pen.

"Business done.”

The sound of a door opening stopped Sonic before he could respond. Tails groggily leaned over the second floor railing. "Sonic, it's four in the morning... why are you being so loud...?" He rubbed his eyes and slightly opened them, barely catching Sonic and a second shape... a second. Instantly, Tails’ eyes snapped open. "Shadow?! You're actually back! Hold on, let me come down," he said as he began whirling his tails together, helicoptering over the railing and downstairs.

Sonic lets out a long sigh, tapping his foot and running a hand through his quills. “Shadow decided to change the channel when I was trying to figure out why the place they were showing on the news looked familiar.”

Tails landed and folded his arms. “You know they show stuff on the news more than once in the same day, right? Especially if it was something big.”

“I guess you’re right,” Sonic says, scratching his head. “I’ll just catch it later, then.”

Tails lets out a halfhearted laugh before turning to Shadow. "So... did you decide on taking up Sonic's offer of living here? I do have a spare bedroom that you could use until we get a house made for you."

Shadow stared for a moment, slowly coming to the realization that, yes, that was what he was doing. He scribbled on his notepad. “Is that okay?”

"Of course! Are you hungry? We could talk about where you want your house over breakfast." As if on cue, Shadow's stomach growled. Tails and Sonic laugh as Shadow turns away slightly, embarrassed.

"Well, that settles that! Chili dogs, anyone?" Sonic offered, getting a groan out of Tails.

"Chili dogs for breakfast? Come on, Sonic..."

"What? You still owe me from yesterday!"Shadow holds back a smirk. You still don't know if you can fully trust them yet. Give it more time...

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

I'm SO sorry this took so long, but I promise it's worth it! Part 4 just needs some editing, and part 5 is in the works!

[hmshermitcraft]

not on theme

Doc has never been a fan of being in white rooms for long. Sure, the look of them can be nice; pristine and clean, like some hospitals.

Until his memories decide he can’t have a fun time, and all of a sudden, his entire body is screaming, telling him to run, to break out, to get far, far from the area. Like it’s a life or death situation, like he’s about to explode.

Etho doesn’t know why. Not completely, anyways. He can make some educated guesses, but he won’t. He could ask why Doc shuts himself away on certain days, why he refuses to look at news articles from specific years, why the sound of thunder makes him jump so bad, but he won’t. The time never feels right. To keep others from guessing, he began saying Doc was just afraid of hospitals. It was easier. Sprinkled it in during conversations around medical topics and such.

Bdubs believed him almost immediately. It’s not too out of the norm, a lot of people are scared of hospitals. And, with Doc’s missing eye and arm, he could only assume something had gone down in one, right?

Beef was less convinced, but he wasn’t about to go and pester the guy for his backstory. Who knows what that could bring? Plus, he wouldn’t want someone bugging him over something he’s terrified of either. Just seems so impolite, you know?

Doc, of course, caught on pretty fast. It’s hard to avoid it, when one day, you’ve gotten nicked by an arrow right in the connection point of your face plate and eye, and your peers are actively keeping you at the server clinic, rather than rushing you to the main hub’s hospital. Horrible idea, but he can see where they’re coming from.

He doesn’t speak on it much. He knows it’s the ideal outcome, having everyone believe he was just scared of some building, rather than something worse.

On the brighter side, the clinic on the server has been filled with color, filled with paintings and decorations the hermits themselves had created. It’s nicer to look at.

It's also a comfort to think about the hermits improving their own medical skills. It keeps them safe, after all. Doc wants that too - being able to care for him is a bonus. They've got one of the best equipped clinics there is, and a fun one to look at too!

[adrift-in-thyme]

Whumptober Day 30: Lab Rat + Examination

Continuation of Day 11

Read it on Ao3

- Legend & Hyrule

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

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

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

Someone is talking.

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

There is danger here, they murmur.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Legend hates it.

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

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

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

I’m so sorry, traveler.

“You cannot control it, then?”

“No.”

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

“Perhaps, we can do something about that.”

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

It is sheer agony.

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

The collar. It must be suppressing my magic.

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

Even that is a losing battle.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Aren’t things that are dissected usually dead?

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

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

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

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

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

“Stay still, brat.”

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

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

I failed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ve got you, vet.”

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

“We need to get this collar off him…”

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

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

Hyrule…

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

“R-rule…where…”

“I’m right here, Ledge. Don’t worry.”

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

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

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

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

Then, abruptly, it stops. 

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

“What…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The man scowls. “So be it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That scientist was the last one.”

Thank the gods.

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

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

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

[gildead]

@tetramulti sends birthday wishes!

Crimson approaches Gold, looking up at him with a small grin. "Shinto sent me to ask you what kind of cake you want for your birthday!" Oh, right, that was soon, wasn't it? Along with... uh. Hmm. "...Does it... uh, ever really stop hurting...?" You know what she's referring to. It wasn't like she had much of anyone else to talk about it with. They didn't really understand.

"Ube, please. With cream cheese icing." What can he say, really? Purple is the perfect compliment to Gold, after all. He may not have had use for the antioxidants in ube anymore, but it still felt good to eat.

His expression softens at Crimson's question. She doesn't need to elaborate.

"...No. It doesn't." Gold's sleeve brushes against his hairline, where one of the many extraction scars once were. Now, it was just another harmony in the chorus of phantom pains that followed him everywhere. "Not fully, at least. I think that's been pretty obvious."

"But Crimson, it does hurt less over time. It dulls. As long as you've got friends and family and other people to support you, you can learn how to live with it."

How to grow from it.

How to heal.

[muses0fgracie]

// Baba Chops headcanon time. Mostly copy-pasting this from discord.

In her main/experiment verse, before she became... well, Baba Chops, she funnily enough was a teen (because she was in the care of Playtime Co.'s orphanage for a good few years) who hated going out and socializing, and arguably just…. hated people in general with a select few exceptions. In fact, whenever she got called in for testing, she would outright refuse to leave whatever space she had holed herself up in to go there, and had to be dragged to places all kicking and screaming.

It got to the point where one of the scientists cruelly suggested to assign her a Baba Chops toy (which ofc she later got turned into) unlike all of the other kids who hand-picked theirs. So basically, she's an antisocial sheep because some jackass scientist thought it would be funny. This is another major contributor to her generally moody and misanthropic personality.

I also think that in general, she's not very well-liked by the other Safe Haven toys because of how cantankerous and sardonic she is. She of course, claims not to care what "those morons" think, but.... that's a lie; she kind of does care. She doesn't like them in the slightest, obviously... but at the same time, she doesn't want them all to hate her back, because then she'd be all alone.... and no one wants to be alone if things ever go downhill south.

[devilisinthedeinos]

Experiment 008 Target Pokemon: Deino Status: SUCCESS Notes: Time of transformation slower than projected, subject woke up and was able to seek help before fully transformed. Future subjects should be kept within facility until completely transformed, then released to the wild to prevent attention from general populace. Different form of tracking device to be considered. It's also important to note that the subject still seems to retain some of their human instincts... This is not ideal for the world we wish to create. Subject scheduled to be recaptured for instinct adjustments.

....what?

[pastelprcdigy]

lovrina is not a good person.

since i'm getting followers here from my promo and from gold's blog, i want to make something extremely clear about my version of lovrina. she is, in fact, a monster.

let's review the canonical facts of pokémon XD: gale of darkness.

as part of cipher, lovrina was complicit in and participated in the capture, corruption, torture, and dissemination of multiple shadow pokémon, research that she helped perfect.

she took lugia, a pokémon stated to be so empathetic and intelligent that it slumbers underground in fear of hurting people with its power, and TORTURED IT until it became an unfeeling killing machine. while we don't know how the process of making a shadow pokémon works, we know that she went so far to make it unpurifiable that it changed color completely.

as part of cipher, she signed off on sending lugia to capture and dispose of the s.s. libra. because lugia had a brief moment of conscience, her complicity resulted in the deaths of people and pokémon alike.

instead of backing down and reassessing her actions, lovrina delved harder into perfecting lugia, referred to internally as XD001, to the point where shadow lugia was rendered unpurifiable by natural means (celebi, agate village purification stone, oils, etc.)

when you fight her on citadark isle, lovrina BRAGS about how her research turned out.

SHE FACES NO IN-UNIVERSE RAMIFICATIONS. she doesn't get arrested alongside greevil. she doesn't get hit with any charges, she isn't completely blackballed, she isn't even hit with a slap on the wrist. lovrina gets to live as a FREE WOMAN, able to be challenged in orre colosseum by the player. SHE. GOT. AWAY. WITH ALL OF THIS.

and that's without getting into her role in my version of gold's lore, where she's the one who ultimately signed off on his death. gold wasn't just killed by a rampaging pokémon, he was MURDERED.

sure, she'll be sweet and cordial and pink to your muse, but do not woobify this woman. as you interact with her, remember she's always got ulterior motives. she will manipulate, lie, steal, and sabotage your muse if it means getting what she wants.

yes, she's irredeemable, but not because she's 'too evil' or 'too late' or whatever. she knows what she's doing is wrong.

and she doesn't care.

[s-099]

i  just  want  to  talk  about  how  ninety  -  nine  was  quite  literally  bred  to  be  this  invincible  emotionless  killing  machine  and  had  lived  in  a  totally  loveless  environment  for  the  grand  majority  of  her  life  .  ninety  -  nine  was  born  in  that  laboratory  and  was  used  immediately  for  their  horrendous  experiments  . 

she  was  never  seen  as  a  person  .  she  was  quite  literally  only  an  expendable  experiment  that  they  didn't  even  really  care  if  she  succeeded  in  becoming  a  weapon  or  not  .  she  was  never  loved  ,  she  never  knew  her  parents  and  she   experienced  nothing  but  sheer  horror  and  violence  from  a  very  young  age  .  they  didn't  even  bother  trying  to  show  her  ‘  fake  love  ’  to  manipulate  her  into  being  a  better  tool  ,  they  just  beat  it  into  her  . 

she  was  stuck  in  this  lab  all  the  way  into  early  adulthood  ,  so  she  is  so  incredibly  stunted  emotionally  . 

the  only  time  she  experienced  anything  different  was  when  she  met  Hella  for  the  first  time  .  Hella  was  the  first  person  to  ever  treat  ninety  -  nine  as  something  different  than  a  monster  .  she  was  the  first  person  to  ever  show  any  kind  of  compassion  towards  her  and  it  changed  ninety  -  nine  forever  .  as  great  as  that  was  though  ,  the  beginning  of  their  friendship  was  so  difficult  for  ninety  -  nine  . 

she  had  finally  found  someone  that  treated  her  in  a  normal  way  ,  that  saw  her  as  a  person  and  not  just  a  mindless  weapon  .  but  they  only  met  because  they  were  pitting  ninety  -  nine  against  Hella  and  having  her  beat  her  up  on  a  regular  basis  both  to  test  ninety  -  nine's  abilities  and  Hella's  healing  factor  . 

so  picture  this  ,  she  had  finally  found  someone  that  isn't  a  total  monster  and  yet  she  was  forced  every  single  day  to  abuse  her  .  to  hurt  her  and  almost  kill  her  ,  forcing  Hella  through  the  difficult  and  painful  process  of  healing  .  it  breaks  my  heart  how  bad  they  both  had  it  in  that  lab  .  even  after  going  through  all  of  this  ,  Hella  never  saw  99  any  differently  and  wanted  to  be  friends  with  her  .  after  the  experiments  were  finished  for  the  day  ,  they  would  go  back  to  their  cells  and  just  chat  together  .  99  has  learned  so  much  because  of  Hella  and  their  bond  is  so  precious  to  me  fdnkjfndkjfqndsjfk 

this  headcanon  is  literally  just  me  rambling  about  how  sad  their  lives  are  but  the  tldr  is  that  ninety  -  nine  has  finally  began  to  learn  why  life  is  worth  living  .  she  is  starting  to  know  kindness  ,  happiness  .  she  is  beginning  to  experience  things  she  has  never  heard  of  before  .  she  is  doing  so  much  with  her  life  and  there  are  so  many  things  she  needs  to  see  and  learn  about  . 

before  ,  the  idea  of  dying  didn't  bother  her  .  in  fact  ,  she  welcomed  it  .  after  going  through  everything  she  has  ,  dying  was  so  much  easier  than  becoming  this  horrid  monster  .  but  now  …  she  is  terrified  of  dying  .  she  doesn't  want  to  leave  Hella  behind  and  she  has  learned  that  despite  it  all  ,  she  can  be  happy  and  live  a  somewhat  normal  life  now  . 

[hmshermitcraft]

(Tw, implied experimentation on people)

Look.

Ren doesn't know what's with the number on Doc's neck.

He doesn't know why Doc sometimes flinches away.

He doesn't know why Doc is covered in scars.

All he knows, is he wants doc to be happy. Maybe that means helping him to fall asleep after a nightmare, maybe that means getting Doc to open up about what happened. But it means one thing for sure: he can't just ignore it.

No matter how much doc wants to, Ren can't just stay silent after seeing his boyfriend wake up for the thousand time begging to not go back "There", wherever "there" is

Even if Ren knows nothing about what happened to Doc, and he doesn't have to, really, then he wants to know what he can do to help. When Doc wakes up after a nightmare, when his eyes grow distant or his hands tremble. Ren wants to know what he can do.

He doesn't need to know the problem for that. But Doc is still reluctant to tell him, and Ren doesn't know how far he can push Doc on this before he snaps.

So that means he has to learn by himself.

He learns that Doc likes when Ren draws circles on the back of his hand. He likes Ren's arms around him as Ren breathes deeply. He likes listening to Ren talk, no matter what it's about. Ren's started keeping books by his bed, just for that reason.

Doc might never open up to Ren about his past, and that's okay. Ren doesn't see it as something necessary. He just wants to make sure Doc isn't shouldering it alone.

[pridepoisoned]

@turnecoat / from here

Eris merely smirks as John blusters away, her hungry eyes studying the detective's reactions, her pen scratching new observations into the fresh paper. After an excruciating minute, the pen pauses in the researcher's grip, the dripping nib hovering over her notes like a venomous fang.

"...Mad at you?" She laughs--so innocent, yet so sinister--and her gaze dances with amusement. "Not a chance. I'm very happy to see you again after all this time, Detective Looker."

"I'm surprised that you can still speak, honestly..." Eris murmurs, pacing around the reeling officer like a hunter, studying him from all angles. "This particular blend of poisons is extremely potent. A typical subject would be catatonic by now, but you've always been quite hardheaded, hm? Interesting, interesting..."

"As much as I'd like to test your resilience further, that's not exactly why you're here," the scientist hums, smiling as she strides over to pat the lab chair. "Why don't you take a seat, Mr. Beladonis? I hear that you've been on many...adventures following Galactic's downfall, and I want to hear all about them. If you cooperate with me, I'll send for dinner and fresh water to help offset some of your symptoms. If not..."

Eris's eyes wander over to the dark recesses of the lab room. Completely cloaked in darkness, a serpentine hiss can be heard from something hidden in the shadows. Threatening.

"...well, I would just hate to use a heavier hand."

[devilselbowhq]

THE WILD & WONDERFUL APPALACHIA WELCOMES... ashton ryder as written by shan ( she / her ).

✱ affiliated with SILVER LIVING MILITIA ✱ working as a BARTENDER @ HELL'S GATE; LIEUTENANT (SILVER LINING MILITIA) ✱ has taken up residence in BURNINGTON ✱ born on NOVEMBER 3RD ( 34 ) ✱ identifying as CIS MAN ( HE / HIM ) ✱ known to be TENACIOUS, PROTECTIVE, RELIABLE, LOYAL ✱ also know to be SECRETIVE, ALTRUISTIC, HARDENED, SENSITIVE ✱ portrayed by LUKE MITCHELL

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

➥ brothers & sisters-in-arms (East Atlantic Army connections) : pretty much since Ash had been tossed there, it was all he knew, training, life, relationships, he was kept closely within the army and everything he did was for them. A connection that could either be very close to Ash mentors, juniors or peers, or had friction with him in those years. Ranging from during his teenhood up until the day he left. ➥ how to life (friends) : Ash moved from one army to another militia, always trying to find ways to fight, it was what he was good at. But finding life outside of the army was tough, remember life before the army seemed like a distant dream, he doesn’t really know how to live what may have been a normal life, as normal as life as they know it can be at least. A connection that helped him acclimate to life outside of the military, with more time to himself now despite integrating with silver lining, he had been given more freedom than he knew what to do with. ➥ the peek behind the glow (compound/afterglow connections) : you’ll be doing great good for everyone, was the lie he was told when they sat him down at the lab, a secret he’s kept all his life now out in the open to be used for some greater good. A connection within his short stint with the afterglow science and research department, perhaps were poked and prodded alongside him or were doing the poking and prodding.  ➥ play pretend (childhood friends) : We’re gonna build a rocket ship to Mars! Ashton as a kid was bright and full of energy, despite being an only child, his mother often felt like he had the energy of three. Taking care of him was not easy and she was thankful for the other kids around their small neighborhood that played with him. A connection of a childhood friend that grew up with him in Burnington. Perhaps they lost touch after he joined the army, perhaps they were always in contact, but they had grown up with Ashton and been through a lot together in their formative years before he was tossed to the EAA. How would they feel seeing who Ashton was right now after losing their friend to the claws of the military and seeing him come back out of the fire alive?

DIGGING DEEPER.

TW: death, abuse, experimentation

The Ryders were a quiet small family living simple lives in Burnington, husband served in the East Atlantic Army as a command sergeant, wife helped homeschool kids in the town. They flew under the radar as much as they could, most would assume because they’re simply content with life - and they are, a handful might know they do what they can in small subtle movements of resistance. Ashton was raised as such too, joyful simple life, be grateful for what they had, helped around the house, he was a handful to deal with as a kid but never whined or demanded anything in life. Homeschooled, he usually stuck close with his mother when his father was out with his unit, doing important work to protect them all, young Ash would like to believe that as his mom would tell him. Little did he know it wasn’t in the way Ashton thought.

One day past his 13th birthday, Ash’s parents had requested him to run a few errands alone for them while they had errands to run on their own, a full day’s worth to prepare for the coming week, groceries to get, kids to teach, laundry to wash and dry, letters to deliver, it was more than his usual day of chores, but he never whined about it, doing what he was told to do. He got everything done easily, even had spare time to go play before coming back for dinner. But dinner was never made. Ashton came back to an empty home that evening, not quite sure where his parents were and when they were coming back, he sat there and waited, and waited, and waited. Until in the middle of the night a knock on the door came, someone from the army, dad’s friend, they said. Ashton didn’t really process the news, everything in and around him numbed as his hands and feet still moved, the rest of the unit came in to start picking apart what little belongings they had, and let him pack whatever else he wanted. The next thing he knew when he snapped out of the shock, was that he was within the military academy, other kids and students staring at him like fresh meat, that he held a box of all his belongings he desperately kept from his home for once in his life saying no and not letting the soldiers take away some of his parents keepsakes, that his parents were gone. And that he was all alone. 

Then came the anger. Sure they gave him food, shelter, care, but he wasn’t stupid. The reason they gave him for his parents death didn’t seem to click. Ash was looking for anything and everything to blame. The grief in him mutated into rebellion, rage and fight, it took the academy a lot to whip him into shape and submission, literally and figuratively. The uglier disciplinary acts hidden behind closed doors. They hadn’t known what else the boy knew, they had to keep him here. But everything can be fixed with time, and with time, Ashton lost the fight in him, grief growing smaller, hurting less, giving in to doing whatever they told him to, as long as it made the pain go away. He got to know the other kids his age, some orphans like him, trained alongside him, and some of the warrant officers treated him well, better than others. He learnt to accept that this was his life now. As long as it made the pain go away. Follow our orders and you’ll be safe. You’ll be fine soon. I promise. Promise? He took their word for it, and believed, like he always did. Just listen to them, do as they say, they know better. He never whined or demanded anything in life. Ashton was molded and shaped to a perfect recruit and soldier, he had the talent, grit and intelligence for it all, exceeding all expectations once he submitted and gave in to the life and hand he was dealt with. He grew into one of EAA’s finest specialists they’ve ever had, an incredible asset that stayed loyal with nowhere else to go. Ashton was desensitized to the point where he lost himself somewhere in the pool of blood he spilt and the pile of bodies he stacked up. Though underneath it all he was just the teenage boy holding a box of his family’s belongings, doing whatever he needed to do as he was told. As long as it made the pain go away.

Over the years, Ash was one of the most reliable people in the army, if you needed something done, and done right, Ashton was your guy. While he is attached to a specific unit, the higher ups oftentimes pulled him away on special fieldwork as well, more covert operations that required tact and skill, and Ash could keep a secret to his grave. He’s had practice keeping one since he was five. No one bats an eye on the way Ash bounces back on his feet whenever injuries come around. He’s just that talented! He ate well! He’s youthful, he’s got his father’s genes and talents. Ash laughs them off and prolonged pretending to still be injured if it seemed suspicious. But one of those outfield missions went awry landing Ash in critical danger for once in his life, a misstep, a mistake made. Going in and out of consciousness one step too close to death, left Ash vulnerable as he was medically cared for without being able to walk it off before it was too late. And if they hadn’t paid attention to the way he healed faster than expected, pulling him under a microscope to see the way his cells regenerated at a speed not normal for humans - perhaps he’d still be holding onto that mutant secret.

It was a gift, a breakthrough in science, if they could just study him further– everything could change in the way their soldiers healed. Lives could be saved. He was taken off duty for the time being, excuse of needing to recover before going back on the field, and instead brought to the lab of the afterglow compound and was told all those nice things, appealing to the part of Ashton who just wanted to be useful. He assumed it was an order, and simply muttered yes sir.. For months he was held there, poked and prodded, blood and cell samples taken from him, his pain thresholds and limits tested. But what made Ashton pause was the sight of others there. A view of Afterglow hidden away from his years of training here, now in full view. And it was horrific, this wasn’t the same organization he thought he gave his life and loyalty to. He thought all his life, he had been doing good. Ashton silently took whatever was done to him, etching the visual in his brain of everything that happened here, to him, to others, to his parents. Until when he was returned to serve on the field, he left the force, quietly, without fanfare, honestly surprised they let him walk free. Perhaps because they’ve squeezed every ounce of him that they possibly could to profit off of him and there was nothing left of him for them to use.

The freedom was new and foreign to him, going back to Burnington, another box clutched in his arms as he was lost on what to do. He just knew that that rage he once thought had died off or beaten into submission, was once again reignited. He quickly joined the Silver Lining Militia, finding comfort in knowing at least there were familiar faces there, proving himself and his capabilities, and most importantly his loyalty and morality. Ashton now was trying to find his footing in somewhat of a normal life, getting a normal job to feed himself, and behind the scenes sitting with the militia to try and do good, perhaps find repentance in the life and lies he’s lived.

EXTRAS.

headcanons

Ashton was five, he was in the kitchen on a Sunday morning with his parents trying to make breakfast and proving that he’s a big strong boy now! Unfortunately it ended up in a nasty burn across his arm and face as a hot heavy pan was dropped. He did his best not to cry as a big boy now but he still did, it hurt a lot. His mother helped take care of the burn wounds and patched it up, said it’ll heal in a few days, nothing to worry about, their bodies knew how to patch itself up. And patch itself up it did, perhaps way too well. By that night when they checked on the burns they were nowhere in sight. Somehow his parents just knew at that point, told Ash that his body was just really good at healing, but they also told him that he couldn’t tell anyone about it - a secret just between them. Ashton obeyed but never really understood it until much later learning more about mutants. Yet he regretted ultimately failing in the end. Even in this still life however, he still doesn't tell just anyone about it.

After leaving the military, Ashton struggled to find a place to fit in. He didn’t know what it took to live the life most people did in Burnington anymore. He found the one thing he did learn during his time in military training, was that he always bartended or mixed drinks for his own team or during events, perhaps the one civilian skill he picked up in a non-civilian life. Gravitating to the job in a place where he keeps his eyes on only the job and nothing else, keeping talks of his past life to a minimum and instead listening to others share their woes instead. He didn’t know where else to go and needed some way to support himself while he served the militia, not willing to take any handouts from them. And besides, at least no one judges people here at Hell’s Gate, mutants alike. 

It’s been ages but there were still plenty of things he remembered of his parents, a box of their things he’s held onto ever since now tucked away safely in a drawer. Now older, it was clearer on the things they did that lightly steered away from afterglow, and of everything, Ashton felt like he can at least follow the other path after ruining the other he was walking on. Outside of his job and militia, like his mother, Ashton began helping teach homeschooled kids in his spare time, those wanting to stay out of the afterglow school system, he was taught and self-taught everything he knew, making use of EAA’s resources to study everything he could. Now he could bring that same knowledge, filtering out any biases to teach knowledge and only knowledge. He hoped his mother would’ve been proud of that at least.

The one thing Ashton has mostly kept to himself was his love and fascination with the night sky. Despite the rot and destruction of their planet, the stars stayed as pretty as he could ever remember. A vast abyss, moving along without blinking an eye to the self destruction of earth, nothing but a drop in an ocean of the universe. Ash learned all he could about the sky, the universe and astronomy, oftentimes when he wanted to be alone, he can be found on the rooftop of the academy or the compound, laying down to gaze at the sky, for once since he lost everything, this was the place he found peace again. Now he’s still looking for his best stargazing place in Burnington but he long remembered simply laying on the roof of his home with his mom as they pointed out stars, planets and constellations.

Once as a specialist, Ashton was talented in many areas within the military, but he’s best known for being a good shot, best sharpshooter they had, as well as leading stealth recon and lethal thunder runs. Ashton would be one of the first few names to pop up if you ever needed people for those. Now he hopes that those skill sets would still be useful in the Silver Lining Militia.

He has a german shepard, Dawn, that he trained with in the EAA, elite dogs bred and trained for warfare and now to aid the military in peacekeeping, and Ashton trained with her since she was a pup. She left the force with him on the account that she was just as stubborn as her trainer and refused to listen to any other soldier and let her go with him as an early retirement. 

pinterest boards / playlists

Pinterest

Playlist

  personality 

MBTI: ISFJ-T, The Defender (Turbulent)

Enneagram: Type5w6, The Troubleshooter

Astrological Sign: Scorpio

Alignment: Lawful Neutral

[gildead]

...

Surprise, motherfuckers.

[devilisinthedeinos]

Experiment 133

[Accessing Experiment 133's file...]

[...]

[File Found.]

Experiment 133:

Target species: Eevee

Status: Alive

Notes: After several false starts with a new administration technique, we have begun experiment 133. To avoid the problems with other experiments, we have quarantined the subject in a cell, and will be continuing observation throughout their development.

Subject has yet to show any traits of their target species.

[xdraonarts]

New sonic design!

Felt he was too cutesy in the last design and wanted to at least re-proportion him to fit better with the designs of the other hogs. Also entirely reconsidered the whole torture aspect to the design since I didn't think I leaned into the experimentation idea I had with the first design hard enough.

This particular prosthetic was given by Eggman during the 6 months of torture Sonic goes through in Forces after suffering a broken leg from the Infinite/Ruby Clones beatdown, but Tails will be building a better, more balanced prosthetic later on just gotta design it. He also now sports a tracking chip which may or may not lead to a ambush waaaaay later down the line :3c