#Human Experimentation

[bumblingdragon]

Wolfwood Whump Week day 3 - medical horror/experimentation

@wwwhumpweek

tag list

@gale-in-space

[scipunk]

Mardock Scramble: The First Compression (2010)

[reality-detective]

Candace Owens Clip Explains The Media Brainwashing In America Today 🤔

[lalaooopsie]

Don't see enough abt Verlaine in the lab so

[blackrosesandwhump]

100 Drabble Challenge: Lab Whump Edition

The challenge: write exactly 100 words about any of the following 60 prompts. Have fun!

Vivisection

Scalpel

Strapped down

Drugged

Injection

Scars

Naked

Disoriented

Under observation

Incision

Bandages

Blood

Experiment

Conditioning

Gloved hands

Cleaned up

Oxygen mask

Sleep deprivation

Nightmares

Privacy

Captured

Anesthesia

Prostrate

Starving

Dehydrated

Recovery

Bedrest

Desensitized

Gauze

Isolation

Uniform

Unconscious

Needle

Cut

Weak

Screaming

Infection

Manhandled

Shivering

Reflection

Dehumanized

Surgery

Torture

Pain medication

Phobia

Abused

Bedsores

Dragged

Sterile

Sedated

Research

Mistake

Begging

Pity

Touch starved

Pain

Damaged

Stitches

Volunteer

On camera

[justaphantomhuman]

Considering this is a Nobody Knows/ Everybody Knows AU I decided that this phanart can stay in that lovely middle ground of Ambivalence

Those are Jack and Maddie's hands :3

Do his parents Know and want to Fix their precious son?

Does nobody know, so there is nobody coming to save him??

UP TO YOU.

I'm a firm believer of the "ghosts only have a core as an organ".

[wri0thesley]

cw: dottore, yandere, human experimentation

dottore does not have favourites. a test subject is a test subject, and he has no shortage of those; a never ending conveyer belt of human bodies that come through his laboratory, that he uses until he can no longer squeeze any useful information from them. it is easier not to even regard them as people; merely flesh, merely fodder.

but when one of his clones had brought you in . . .

with those wide frightened eyes, with the shape of your body not quite hidden beneath the thin medical gown, with words spilling out of your mouth cleverer than he could remember mere fodder ever being . . . well, to use you on just any experiment would have been a terrible waste. not when you were so nice to look at and, too afraid of silence to let it linger on, kept asking him questions as if you cared.

so he takes your blood samples and your tissue samples, your vitals - gives you medicines and injections until every test he runs has perfect results. jerks off, even, imagining what you’d be like if he used you in his ruin machine experiments, if he decided to use you in clinical trials for his cures, thinking about you hooked up to machinery and whimpering and tossing and turning and begging. when you ask him a question with your voice all a-tremble, he takes great relish in explaining everything to you in detail.

in letting his fingers run over your flesh as he wonders aloud about all of the things he could do to you. in letting his fingers touch you bare when he ought to be wearing gloves; in using both a scalpel on you to open a wound, or sometimes even his teeth. in keeping you neatly sequestered in your own little room, with an operating table only for you, with leather straps lined with silk to keep you restrained so you don’t hurt yourself.

most of those under the doctor’s care expire in twenty four hours. that you have been his for months is merely testament to how . . . fascinating you are. no, no. a test subject is a test subject, and dottore tells himself - as he presses a cold kiss to your sweat-slicked forehead, when you have passed into exhaustion and drug-fuelled oblivion, when his fingers run over your bare skin and he imagines carving his name into you, leaving a part of himself inside you lodged in your ribcage or your spine, drilling into your pretty head until all you can think about is him - he does not have favourites.

[polykinkytestsubject]

Inspired by talking to @trust-your-doc recently to write out some of my darker med fet thoughts.

I wake up to a blinding light in my eyes, and as I blink and adjust to the brightness I begin to make out my surroundings. I try to move, but quickly realize that I am restrained, tied down with thick leather straps across my arms and legs, under my breasts, and across my forehead. Above me on the ceiling is a large mirror, revealing my own naked form helpless on a sterile, metal surgical table. There is a bright surgical light above me, and I can see in the mirror that there are trays with many ominous looking instruments arranged in neat rows.

Before I have too much time to contemplate my fate however, a door on the side of the room opens and a handsome man in a lab coat walks in. He has salt and pepper hair and a cruel smile as he walks over to my prone form.

"Ah, I see you're finally awake, now we can begin..." He says calmly, as though everything was normal and I'd come here for some sort of doctor appointment. As he walked toward me he pulled on long black gloves which reached up to his elbows, snapping the cuffs as he finished. As he reached me he began to trail his fingers gently over my body, making me flinch and shiver as I tried fruitlessly to escape his touch.

"I'm sure you're wondering what you're doing here, pet" he says, fingers still lightly examining my abdomen and breasts. "The truth is I've been watching you for a while, and well, I'm afraid I just couldn't resist any longer, I had to have you." He says with a twisted smile as he pinches my nipple making me gasp.

"What are you going to do to me" I ask, nervously.

"Anything I want" he answers, turning away from me to look at the array of tools laid out beside him.

[daydreamsandcrashingwaves]

Keeping It Close To The Chest Pt 1

Edited 12/25/23 ~~ Here's Part Two ~~

Part Three Part Four

I devoured the Damian Wayne and Danny Fenton are Twins tags and had to make something of my own to add. This is my first fanfic I've decided to post. I'm much more familiar with the DP side of things but I gave it my best shot. Hope this brings joy anyway. If I decide to post this on A03 I will have it beta'd since I made this in like four parts and then wove them together so the flow may not always be there whoopps.. but for now I just wanted to share this with all you!

TW/CW: Medical experimentation and trauma, parental abuse/neglect, wound description, blood-ectoplasm and human, death (it's danny, he's the culprit lol will apply to Jason too if I add to this), body horror (to be safe), PTSD and flashbacks, childhood trauma and abuse, dehumanization

If I missed a tag/warning please let me know! I've never been an extensive tagger so i tried real hard to get everything, but I am human and could've missed something. Much love, stay safe.

~Ren

He had to keep moving. He could still hear their screams of rage ringing in his ears. Faster, he had to be faster. His blind panic had created an opportunity, a sliver of hope Danyal was determined to twist to his advantage. He was limping forward on uncertain legs. His vision swayed with the movement, and he fought to keep upright. His chest was on fire, Danny pressed his hands tightly to the wound there in a desperate attempt to keep his organs from spilling out like confetti. He kept his arms tucked close and rounded his shoulders to try and keep his torso still while he moved quickly through the empty streets of his once home. His chest was by far injured the worst, but he had paid no mind to the others. If he dared to stop, he would fully die.

Even in his human form, Danny just knows he's leaving a glowing blood trail behind him, the ectoplasm burning into the ground behind him. Whatever side of his transformation his body was currently showing it didn't matter, he was simultaneously both, always. The trail was evidence he transformed due to necessity, he became so durable after dying that it took a lot to hurt him. Danny risked a glance down and paled further. The green he spilled as Phantom mixed with red. A fucked up corrosive bread trail right to him. He was sure he truly was in deep shit. He just had to get to his go bag. Over time with his parent's inventions getting more dangerous the more Danny had to think about putting into motion The Great Escape.

Anything important he had always kept hidden, but Danny had taken everything out of his room once he had died the second time, and Danny was grateful for the convenience to be able to phase things into walls, floors, ceilings. It made his things pretty secure; no human could find it and any ghost that came through was too focused on their obsession or fighting him to go on a treasure hunt for his hidden things.

Danny's willful ignorance of his body as he stumbles farther from FentonWorks doesn’t stop the slight burn of his ectoplasm against the edges of his wounds and the tatters of his hazmat suit pulling on the scabbing blood or the smell. Ancients the smell. It’s rancid, he hasn’t been able to cycle it properly without his normal supply of fresh ectoplasm from the Zone. Only provided in small bursts when his parents wanted to see how his body healed with and without ectoplasm. He can feel the whispers of his terror, anger, grief that’s flowing through his blood.

He had been overconfident way back when he had threatened Vlad with exposing his secret. He had thought they'd love him despite having kept his halfa status from them, he hadn't been prepared for the distrust, the hatred, the way they moved farther and farther from thought out experiments to revenge. Danny knows Maddie and Jack still see him as the quiet, shaken child so desperate to be good, craving acceptance by the eccentric family that took him in when they look at him. If Danny had to guess they had been so blinded in their rage to even realized it was their machine, their failure that made him this way. Now they really did want him dead.

He’s whole somehow, despite their best effort, he just needs time. Ancients, He’s not exactly the monster they pictured, but He's not human... He’s whole.

The thought tastes bitter and Danny strangles it before it can expand. He must be focused. Taking a measured breath Danny turns down a familiar alley, he goes intangible with a slight twinge in his core, slipping into the bathroom of Nasty Burger. He’s done this so many times the familiar path brings comfort, reassurance. Like maybe things will start to turn for the better. Making his way over to the stall Danny debated whether it was worth climbing the toilet or floating up there. No, it was better to grit his teeth and bare it. There were only three containers of ectoplasm in his bag, he needed to preserve what strength he had. He would soon have no way to access the Zone for a refill.

Danny took one hand and placed it on the wall before careful stepping up. Lifting his leg had sent waves of pain across his nerves but with a grunt he leveraged himself up. His vision went black at the edges, he was dizzy, and bile clawed at the back of his throat. Danny took a few breaths, while he might not need to breathe, he’s been human longer than not, and well.. he’s only half ghost so the habit carried over to when he's Phantom. Danny was immensely grateful for his time in the League, the training was brutal, he still has nightmares about dying the first time but.. he did learn how to survive in situations that if he was truly a Fenton, would've killed him many times over. As Danny was Danyal Al Ghul Fenton, he always had back up plans. His Mother had been heavy handed with those lessons.

It was painful to think about Talia. She had been Grandfather’s favored child and the weight of his expectations of his grandsons was enforced by her. Lessons or punishment, very rarely praise was given to Danny by his Mother's hand. Each milestone was meticulously observed and reported back, doubly so for their failures. Tiny bodies with too big of weapons, green and blue eyes, a face mirroring his own but twisted in determination, competition. His older brother, his twin. They were inseparable, until they weren't.

Danny's core throbs in his chest, he wanted to shy away from the thought, yet the inconsolable part of him screams at the injustice of being the only one to escape their Grandfather. If only Danny could've proven himself, perhaps his brother would've had a chance to leave in his stead, but Danny knows just how much he was lacking in comparison to his brother, and it was their skill, or lack thereof in Danny's case, that sealed their fates. Danny was able to avoid Ra's overseeing eyes when they moved off the failure of a Spare and homed in on his true Heir. The grandson who took to their lessons like a duck in water. Deathly beautiful, Danny used to think as he watched his brother dance and fly through his training. Talia couldn't defy Ra's orders but if she just.. misplaced.. the Spare that was abandoned, well, no one has come for him yet.

Danny knows she loved him, somewhere hidden, deep inside his Grandfather's perfect pet assassin. She loved him enough to send him away when it became clear Ra’s saw no need in the Spare that was no longer needed, she had loved him when she had beaten him and left mortal wounds-their only chance to fool Grandfather, she loved him when she had given him his packed bag and left him outside that orphanage in Chicago with lazarus water raging in his veins, and she loved him when she told him to forget.

Forget about the League her and his brother, his family.

With brief tight squeeze to his small shoulder her she told him if he was in danger to find Bruce Wayne and then Talia Al Ghul was gone and Danyal-just Danyal now- was left truly on his own for the first time ever.

Danny was definitely in danger now; his situation was grave and despite everything the pun brought a small smile to his face. He couldn’t go back home to the Fenton's. He tries to forget how he froze in his surprise when he realized his parents didn’t take his reveal as Phantom as well as they had let on. They had smiled and stalled until they had found a way to contain him. By then it was too late, he had gotten too complacent in his run on a normal life.

Only after Ancients knows how long he had been resisting, pleading, screaming-I’m still Danny, it hurts mom please, I’m still me, Dad I’m alive- did Maddie find his core. Too tired to move it away from her gaze any longer and when her fingers brushed it the wave of mind-numbing terror exploded out of him. Something must've been on her gloves because his core burned. It ripped a wail from his throat while he writhed on the table. Ice responded like it never was taken from him by the anti-ghost restraints.

Danny could still distantly feel the ghostly ice that had trapped them in place and shattered his restraints under the pressure the frozen water bursting into existence. Even trapped in his ghost ice they were steadily working on getting out and would be on the hunt for him again soon. He wouldn't allow them to catch him again.

The mere idea they’d be on their way already spurred Danny back into action. Slipping his hand into the wall he grabbed the strap and pulled his bag out, careful to keep it weightless, and slid off the toilet and back down to the floor. He hasn't seen his dagger in months, it hurt too much to practice without Dami, his other half. Here it is though, innocently tied to his bag and his gaze traced it lovingly, before searching inside the biggest pocket for his first aid kit. He didn't have time for stiches, so he reaches for the butterfly bandages and starts to pull the skin together before securing it. It's really the first proper look he gets, it's... unsettling at the very least, horrifying, to see a wound reserved for autopsies on his chest.

The Y incision is inflamed and still bleeding so he carefully follows its path until he's done. Grabbing gauze, he starts to reinforce pad, wrapping a roll of bandages around to hold everything in place. Danny bites his lip and thinks for a moment, he will need stitches, he's been wounded enough in this half-life to know that. The likelihood for his work to stay in place while he flies is less than he'd like. Making a decision and with a mental shrug he takes an ectoshot from the smaller pocket and stabbed it into his thigh before pressing the depressor. Pure energy zapped through his system hard, angerly surges to settle in his chest. Feeling a bit better but more.. wired Danny takes a second to calm. Steeling himself he tries to nudge his core, it responds in a weak pulse.

Danny's body protests, he can feel his muscles shred and reform, his bones twist like taffy, his organs melt together before settling to form his ectobody. It's all over in a flash of bright light, yet the pain felt endless. Overwhelming in its intensity but gone just as quickly as it came leaving Danny sweaty and panting. Transforming injured was tricky, he had to carefully picture where the bandages were, so he didn't lose all his hard work.

Confusion settled as a fog, clinging to his thoughts, making them murky. His hands were covered in blood, his body hurt, and he couldn't quite remember why, there was a siren coming closer. Everything in him screamed to run, to escape, but his hunters were too close now, freed from his ice to kill him fully. On instinct Danny's nails grew to claws, ripping into space to create a portal. He was weak, always had been, but he was good at running, hiding away in the shadows. Ghost was once a name of his, a proud title, not just what he is now.

Just as the doors burst open in a teal and orange blur Danny dove into the swirling green and hoped Clockwork was watching so at least someone knew things had exploded here in Amity. He hasn't needed to be on his own like this since after Jazz first saw him and demanded that her parents bring Danny home with them. He misses her now as the path out of Nasty Burger closes behind him. Danny's falling, dropping towards the ground too fast for eyes to track but his impact had definitely shaken the room. With a pained whine and a flash Danny was back to being human again, his landing had pulled at whatever scab was able to form in the twentyish minutes it took him to drag himself away from the basement. Danny was going to be sick, the sticky cool liquid that had his clothes clinging to him, was going to be very alarming when he finally could give himself a proper once over. He could feel the new bruises as he tried to roll off the pallets he had crushed.

"Oh! Someone decided to drop by! " A man called out with glee as he sauntered in his direction. "Shall we see who our special guest is?" Danny could feel the rotten soul as he got closer. Too close. Forgoing moving Danny tensed in anticipation. He was hurt, yes, but he would go down fighting. He could do that much to make his brother proud, even if he never realized Danny lived to 15 not 5. Before he could uncurl to swing at the man there was the soft sound of fabric rustling and a blade being drawn. Curling tighter Danny hoped he had enough juice to go intangible.

"You will not reach your goal Joker; Do you not get sick of trying?" The voice was smooth, deeper than he remembered but it's been 10 years, it's understandable that puberty changed his brother's voice. Danny would recognize it anywhere. Danny jinxed himself, somehow. How he ended up in the same room as the brother he hadn't seen in a decade, Danny wasn't sure. He was terrified though. Where Damian was the League and their Grandfather wasn't far behind. Damian had carefully hidden away his care as a child but would shower Danny in it in the darkness of their room. After years apart and Grandfather's continued influence Danny was uncertain how much of Damian truly remained.

There was a burst of noise, of movement and a struggle then silence covered the room. Danny's hands were shaking. "Nightwing, first aid is required inside, bring the kit." His brother paused, "No, a civilian, a metahuman if his unusually colored blood is to be taken into account."

Danny could feel his brother's scrutiny, his gaze held weight as it scanned over his collapsed form, he tried to curl more but a hand brushing his shoulder had Danny screaming and scrambling away.

Damian's hands twitched at his side, an aborted motion to draw his sword. He seemed to pause then they flew up empty, placating- it didn't bring Danny any comfort.

An assassin's greatest tool was always their hands. Green eyes tracked him, narrowing at the way Danny was shrinking into the shadows. Dread swam down his spine to settle hard in his gut. Of all the ways to meet his brother again, it had to be when he was dying, for a third time. Danny reached blindly for whatever was next to him to pull himself up, his knees wobbled precariously but he would be standing for this. He had to be. Black spots were now in his vision, but he forced a smirk onto his face. Danny was sure he was a sight to see, torn clothes, skin riddled with bruises, green and red blood splattered all over like a kindergartener's messy painting of Christmas, limp dirty hair.

Danny knows Damian is assessing him, taking in what he can see in front of him to efficiently deal with it as they were trained to do. potential strengths and weaknesses. Behind both the domino mask and his calm exterior Damian is taking in a snapshot. Danny wonders what he sees, if his brother recognizes the boy he’s grown into, Danny’s core thrums wildly and he tries not to fidget. The slight frown that pulls at Damian’s mouth means he caught the aborted motion.

"Damn, green, yellow and red... You look like a traffic light!" He gets one giggle in before he chokes on it. Danny can't breathe. His brother had gone deathly still when Danny spoke. He could see the war of emotions fighting through his brother, suspicion was quickly doused with rage. "How dare she." The Arabic was an unexpected comfort, but Danny felt confusion at the words. He's severely out of practice, he thought he understood but doubt settled in. He wasn't sure.

Damian had always stood firm next to him in the League, calm, driven and decisive, the perfect heir for their Grandfather. He was always warm to Danny though, would allow traces of his true feelings to be visible when Damian would inevitably catch Danny sneaking out of his bed to stargaze. Danny would get scolded, every time. Grandfather would punish him harshly for such indulgences, he knew it. Attachments were weaknesses and Grandfather would not grow weakness in the League, in his heirs. Danny may be weak and the Spare but he was smart. He knows what the looks of distaste meant from his Grandfather. He knew how his failures would catch up to him and how Grandfather disapproved of his influence on Damian. Yet Danny kept going back, hiding in the shadows to gaze at the stars and wait for his brother to come find him.

Danny had braced for Damian to be mad when he realizes Danny didn’t truly die that day and has stayed away from his brother, but Danny couldn’t have expected this.

Pure hatred lights up in Damian’s eyes when he finally realizes what is in front of him. It's Danny’s undoing. Everything else that has happened seemed like a cakewalk compared to being rejected by the person who had always understood him most. Ghosts are the manifestation of their emotions. Frostbite had explained once how injuries can manifest in a ghost's form on their own. Emotional pain could make them unravel down to their cores, until even that disappeared.

For Danny, there was uncertainty, halfas were so rare that there wasn’t much off hand knowledge, but Danny has always known from the second he died. There was no separation between his human and ghost halves. He just was. What fancy wrapping he showed off hardly mattered. Things bleed so easily between them, Danny Fenton and Phantom.

"I'll kill her painfully for this, but you abomination it will be swift." Damian has balanced on his toes, ready for a quick burst of speed. His sword now clenched so tightly in his hands it almost shakes.

An abomination the words looped through Danny's mind. The wounded sob that came forth when he opened his mouth to reply was unexpected. Danny took halting steps back from his twin. The hitching breath brought his attention back to his chest. This wasn't how Danny had pictured this moment, all those years of stolen daydreams. His core felt wrong in his chest. He felt cold, cold and brittle but his chest was on fire-and wet. The surgical cut seeping like its minutes fresh, this was by far Danny’s worst idea, to believe to ever hope, his brother would ever keep a monster by his side Danny was a fool to hope even for a moment-hands hands reaching for him to bring him back, grabbing his arm-

“No! I don't know! No please” Danny gasps as he flails weakly “I’m sorry I’m sorry!”

Damian hesitates again, before his resolve firms, "Danyal-" His name cracks over his brother's tongue. Danny isn't aware enough to unpack the way his brother's face twists in heartbreak the longer he watches Danny bleed. A warm body comes up behind him, blocking him in, he’s crying now, a weakness that he never could smother. "No!" Danny avoids his gaze scrambling to grip onto whatever fabric is in his hands. Danny wants the moment to last but he knows what’s coming. Damian won’t protect him now. His older brother had been steadfast by his side in their childhood, but now… now maybe it was better he’s bleeding out.

Danny vaguely registered the man behind him cutting off his shirt, kit at the ready besides him. Pressure on his wound forces a long high whine from his throat. He wants to shove it away, his hand swatting at it but he missed, and it thuds uselessly on the ground. He doesn't have the energy to try again.

The shock of a hot hand against his face brings everything into abrupt focus. Danny flinches but can’t move, the body unyielding behind him. He sees the room is covered in his frost and ice. Batman and Red Robin are farther back, their feet trapped in the ghostly ice, they had things in hand to try and hack away at the ice trapping them in place.

“Danyal” The pain in his twin's voice has him turning in that direction; his brother was there. For how well they could read each other in childhood Danny had no clue what his brother was thinking now. His twice dead brother, back to only die again at his feet. “Are you destabilizing? Why were you sent here? What does Mother want?”

“What?” Danny can’t help the laugh that bursts out of him, even if it hurts, it seems his ice kept his organs in place while he tumbled through his hastily made portal. He must've lost consciousness at some point though; his ice seems to have melted to leaving him fully exposed. “That bitch- She has nothing to do with this- wait. You think-” Danny laughs even harder until he can’t breathe and he’s hacking and spitting up more ectoplasm. He’s pulled more fully against the warm body behind him, his head lulls-oh it’s Nightwing, the blatant concern radiating from the man stings Danny’s eyes and a few tears scatter down his face.

“I’m not a clone Dami, I didn’t even know you weren’t with the League anymore." Danny's speech slurs more the harder he tries to piece sentences together, "I'm sorry I don't know how I ended up here.” Danny is growing quieter the longer he talks- can feel his life draining onto the floor and there’s panic in the air now, Batman had sprung up next to Damian's side. Seemed to say something to Damian before he retreated slightly. Batman was hovering ready to interfere but unsure in what actions needed to take place.

Damian is staring at him intently, looking to match his scars to the one's he remembers. He taps his fingers insistently on Danny's cheek and Danny doesn't fight looking back at him. The fingers linger against the scar hidden behind his hair next to his ear, traces the edges. Damian was the one to give it to him, a training error. He had looked at Danny similarly to how he was now. Fear, regret, panic. Words are being said, they blend together, warp, so Danny just hums in response. Everything is more distant now. Danny's own fear floating out of reach. He knows death intimately, he's not afraid to greet her a third time.

The words became frantic as he struggles to stay awake, and someone was talking again. “-ood to see you though- no tss okay no pain.. mma be cold soon-" Oh. That's Danny. The face he has ached to see for years fills his vision. The shade of green he could never replace. Danny was picked up and hustled out a door into the by Nightwing while a harsh discussion flew over his head. They were in some sort of vehicle now, the door shutting causes silence to blanket the group. His head is in Damian's lap, and it takes a second, but Danny realizes Damian is carting his fingers through his greasy hair. His other hand was holding Danny's, playing with his fingers like he did as children. Danny's vision fills with tears and spills down his face.

"Danyal? Can you hear me?" Damian calls his attention softly, his sweet, sweet brother tries to keep the concern out of his voice, off his face. Once he sees Danny focus on him a trembling smile makes its home on Damian's face. His domino mask is gone, Danny drinks in the unobscured view of his brother. "We'll be back to the Cave shortly, Alfred will attend to you, then you're going to tell me exactly how this happened so I can make sure it never does again." Danny can tell Damian is scared, the minute tremble in his petting only confirmed it. Danny let a smile tug at his lips too, "It's gonna be okay Dami" Danny slurred, he hears Damian insisting they were almost home.

Home with Damian. That was a fool's dream, just out of reach. Danny never indulged in the idea; he wouldn't put Dami in danger by reappearing. But- Danny was with him now, a twitch of his fingers against Damian's proves it. Danny went limp as the Batmobile skidded into the Cave, Damian was a silent statue watching Alfred take his brother away from him. Batman saddled up next to him- Damian should shower and change, whatever it was that changed his brother was making his skin itch- but he couldn't move. His baby brother was in there, dying, again.

"Damian, chum... what was all that?" Damian ignores his eyes itching as tears built, he clears his throat to report- reporting was vital with their nighttime activities, Father needed information to help Danny. He couldn't take his eyes of the little glowing red 'In Use' sign above the surgery door though.

Damian cuts a glance at the man next to him, more Bat than Father at the moment. "Once Danyal is stable, I will give you an explanation Father."

~~~~

I thought of a name, added it to the tags, I'll add a link to the next post if I write one, will tag future posts with 'Keeping It Close To The Chest' as well

much love

~Ren

[hold-him-down]

😌 - Someone gently brushing their hair and/or ✋ - A hand carding gently through their hair- for Leo pls!! i love comfort! (is it rlly ok if i send a bunch? cause i will lol)

tw: creepy whumper, intimate whumper, withdrawal, drugs, human experimentation, institutionalized slavery, nonsexual/semi-sexual nudity

notes: not leo, not comfort.

✥ ✥ ✥

“My boy,” Handler Jake Ward says, regarding the usually-feisty brunette with all the sympathy in the world. “What they’ve done to you.”

River's wrists are raw where he’s pulled against the restraints at, reportedly, a near constant rate for the last two weeks. His breaths are so heavy, each one a victory in its own rite. 

His hair is drenched in the sweat that covers every inch of his battered body. There’s still an obvious hatred in his eyes, but he does not have the energy to spew the vitriol that he normally reserves for their time together.

Jake runs his fingers through the worker’s hair, brushing it gently out of his face. He doesn’t even pull away. He doesn’t even fucking flinch.

When they send them to the A-wing for ‘projects’, they never quite know in what shape will return. Or when. Or how they’re coping with the whole thing. It keeps his job interesting, he thinks, but it also makes for stressful reunions sometimes. 

He has a soft spot for River, a spirited little shit from day one who, when he breaks, it is only after weeks of fierce defiance. Even then, it only lasts a few hours before he decides he’s ready to roll again and pulls his nails back out.

Jake asked the director for the details of the project earlier that day under the guise of using the information to aide in reintegrating the worker back into daily life in C-wing, but he said it was fucking confidential.

Jake runs his fingers through the tangles over and over until the waves look right again, and wonders, idly, how long this part will last.

“They really weren’t messing around, were they,” he says to himself as he unbuckles each strap. A tear runs down the corner of River’s eye and buries itself into his hair, and while Jake doesn’t think for a second that it’s anything other than a symptom of the withdrawal, he pretends, for a minute, that the boy is so happy to see him that he’s crying.

“You’re doing good,” he says, lifting River’s head to comb through the back before gently lying it back on the table. “I’m gonna move you to the tub.” Jake stands back and looks over River's body, checking for obvious signs of significant injury. He finds none, which isn’t surprising. Drug trials usually cause more damage inside than out.

River tries to speak, but it’s almost impossible to understand with the hoarse edge of his massively over-used voice. His poor throat, Jake thinks, running his thumb along his Adam's Apple. Still, Jake is pretty sure he knows what the boy says. He leans in and whispers, “What was that?”

He sees River’s mouth form a 'ffff’ a moment too late and the 'fuck you' cuts through the silence.

Almost reflexively, he has his hand around River’s neck. He squeezes it tightly, just hard enough that River’s breath cuts off, and says, “Welcome home, baby. I missed you, too.”

[irondadfics]

Hi I’m looking for a Peter whump fic where he gets kidnapped and has his blood drained, I think by a needle in his neck. He eventually escapes and calls Tony for help but Tony either doesn’t initially pick up or he quickly hangs up maybe because of an argument they had and because he didn’t realize Peter was in trouble

could either of these be your fic?

After the Storm - Febuwhump 2022 by polaroid15

Chapter 7: Used as an experiment

Peter is followed home by a man in a trench coat.  It goes down hill from there.

5 times Tony joked about Peter being part spider by KatinaMoon

Scene is in Chapter 6:

+1 time he definitely didn't

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Halloween prompts no 31 (part 2)

Red Robin was thrown through the air, landing safely in a crouch next to Robin, who had his sword ready, "So much for boring."

The entity preventing them from escavating the bones showed itself. The boy looked almost like a superhero, decked out in black in white and glowing all over. He even had a symbol on his chest resembling a comet. Maybe his powers were space themed when he was alive?

Then again the kid was claiming to be the ghost of the person they were trying to dig up for the investigation and the symbol did kinda resemble a sideways bedsheet ghost. Maybe he needed more coffee. At the moment it didn't matter, they needed to get this investigation on the way before more problems arose. The kid claimed to be the one to bury his own body here so he should have answers, right?

When asked why he chose to bury it on the Wayne estate he looked sheepish and admitted he didn't know it belonged to anyone, rather he thought it was city property or something. When asked why he didn't have his loved one bury him in a cemetery he got defensive, saying "They didn't mean to! It was an accident!" And "They'd never believe them!"

Instead of further answers they got a fight and were forced to retreat after thier weapons proved ineffective. A fact Robin hated.

They returned later after the teen had calmed down and he was willing to talk a bit more.

Appearently his parents were a pair of crazy mad scientists whose invention got him killed. The more Phantom talked the more curtain the entirety of the batfam were curtain this kids death was no accident.

The portal having an on button on the inside??? Being fed foods mixed with dangerous chemicals known to cause mental health problems and mutate people? Constant exposure to dangerous substances that the parents wear hasmat suits for but let thier kids be around unprotected? Trying to power household electronics and kitchenware with the same hazardous material? Phantom also described "check ups" his parents did from time to time that the ghost couldn't really understand. But the batfam did, and it made thier stomachs sick

It sounds like the parents had been expiramenting on the children.

Now the batfam are racing against the clock to try to get Phantom out of denial, cause now that he's gone they might turn all there focus on the surviving science expirement. The worst part is that the bats are right.

[reality-detective]

The military personnel were/are the lab rats, but everything has been scripted to end the lives of billions of people. 🤔

[eaglyn]

Mr. Crazy and Mrs. Crazier | Dottore x reader smut

Warning: gore, human experimentation, dismantling of a human heart, psychopathic behavior Not proofread

You were just about the perfect being that he could imagine. In his eyes, you were smart, entertaining and downright gorgeous. Normally, Dottore wouldn't think such things about anything he didn't create himself, but you? You were different. You were perfect.

You were a very successful graduate of the Sumeru Akademiya's Amurta Darshan, some even say that you're the most promising student the Amurta Darshan's ever had. That was arguable. On the other hand, it was an unarguable truth that you were insane. You had about as much regard for human life as Dottore, or maybe even less. They tried to change you for some time, after all your knowledge and talent was definitely in the wrong hands considering your usual projects, which more often than not included human experimentation.

Obviously, they failed. When Dottore joined the Akademiya, he heard news of you, and he was intrigued. He searched for you day and night, week after week until you finally decided to see what his deal was, and once you saw his... creative potential, to speak lightly, you decided to teach him all sort of messed up tips and tricks, from the easiest way to disassemble a human body to reconstructing a human body with mechanical parts.

And that should give anyone the understanding of why and how Dottore was kicked from the Akademiya. When they learned of your cooperation with him, they were all but thrilled. In fact, they were mortified.

Dottore and yourself turned into a wicked pair, eventually ending up serving the Tsaritsa, but while he became a Fatui Harbinger, you just remained in the shadows, but eventually earning the rank number 2.5, as you and him practically came as a package deal. You continued working together for centuries.

Unlike you, he had to resort do different means of achieving a long lifespan, but you were always by his side to give him new ideas and help him out with whatever he needed. As such, you went from his mentor to his lab assistant who would sit atop a countertop in his laboratory and entertain him.

Fatui agents would often hear howling laughter coming up from the lab as you two were working on a new project, and could only imagine which part of cutting young humans up was it that entertained the two of you so much.

In reality, you could turn anything into entertainment.

"Why are you holding the scalpel like that? It looks like you're trying to use it as a chopstick." You raised your eyebrows at one of his most recent techniques.

"Criticize all you want, princess, but it's easier from me to cut at this angle. See?" He maneuvered around the current test subject's ribs, attempting to cut her heart out, having a prototype machine in hand.

"Or you could've just removed the ribs? Why are you so afraid to put the device down, it's not like we didn't sanitize everything a few minutes before starting this experiment." You rolled your eyes.

"But we always take the ribs out, and putting them back is such a pain."

"For you. I thought I gave you a detailed demonstration on how to reattach nerves properly. Also, how do you want to take out the heart with everything still in the way?" You crossed your legs, feeling that you've won the debate.

"By taking it apart, of course. The machine is also attached piece by piece, so the lack of open space won't be a hindrance." He grinned back at you.

"Excuses, excuses." With that, you went back to constructing some random trinket out of spare parts.

After a while, he finally managed to remove the heart, taking all the bits in his hand and raising them in the air victoriously.

"AHA! I've succeeded- oh shit..." He dropped one of them onto the floor. He placed the prototype heart down onto a sterile field, along with the scalpel before walking over to you. "Here, I shall give you my heart." With that, he dropped the dismantled pieces onto your lap, staining your pants with blood.

"Ew, you ruined my pants!" You grabbed a few pieces and launched them at his face as a payback.

"How dare you? I give you my heart and you just throw it away? Why so cruel, Y/n?" Both of you break out laughing like maniacs as you continue throwing bits of the test subject's heart at each other.

"Alright, alright, let's compose ourselves now." You said, gathering the bits before throwing them into a jar.

Dottore installs the prosthetic heart and sews the person back up, and after he was done with that, the two of you transported her to a cell.

"Now we just wait to see if the transplant was successful." You hummed in response, glancing down at your bloodstained pants again.

"Oh come on, those are just pants, Y/n." The blue haired man said with his arms crossed over his chest.

"But I liked these pants." You pouted. They were white shorts tailor made for you, and you knew that you'd never be able to get the blood out of the expensive material.

"Well I prefer you without pants, you don't see me complaining." He stepped closer to you, settling himself between your legs as you sat on the countertop. "And without a shirt too."

You grinned, leaning in to kiss him, and he eagerly kissed back, while his hands were already creeping up on your torso underneath your shirt.

"In that case, remove them, Doc." And he just did that. He grabbed the hem of your shirt and lifted it over your head, attaching his lips to your neck while you pulled your arms out of the shirt, tossing it onto the ground.

You moaned softly as he continued sucking hickeys onto your soft skin, working on removing the belt from around your waist. When that was done, he pulled your pants down, tossing them onto the floor before going for your neck again, meanwhile his hand pulled your panties aside and he started rubbing your clit with two fingers. You threw your head back, moaning when you started feeling a knot forming in your stomach, but then he pulled his hand away.

"Oh come on." You said, scrunching up your eyebrows.

"It's not fair if you get all the fun and I don't get any." He said before stripping himself of his clothes and going back to you. He unclipped your bra, pulling it off of your body and tossing it away before hooking his finger around your panties and ripping them off.

He took a breast in his hand while using the other to rub the tip of his cock over your clit, lubricating it in the process.

"Please just put it in." You whined.

"As you wish, princess." With that, he shoved his cock into your entrance. No matter how many times you've done this, the first few seconds always hurt. His cock was big by all definition, almost too big. The length couldn't even fit all the way in, while the girth was so thick that you felt like your walls were being thorn apart each time. He slowly pulled out before going back in, letting you adjust a little before he started thrusting at a steady pace.

You hummed in pleasure, feeling his veins graze against your walls, and it was like a little spark ignited inside your stomach every time his tip kissed your cervix. He continued thrusting steadily until he started to see signs of impatience on your face. Then he decided to speed up, kissing you hungrily before doing so.

He shoved his tongue into your mouth as he was thrusting inside you, squeezing your breast once in a while as well. You were a moaning mess, gripping his muscular back with your hands.

The way he felt inside you was intoxicating. You were addicted to him. Only he could make you unfold this way. The way he kissed you with such lust and hunger, and he knew all your most sensitive spots. He knew just how to reach that sweet spot that made you scream out loud in pleasure each time, and when he'd do that, he'd speed up and start thrusting into you at an inhuman speed right afterwards. You felt like your insides were being rearranged, while he just grunted into your ear, telling you how nice and tight you were, just for him.

After all, nobody has seen you like this. Not for a very long time, at least. And you were only the happier to know that you were the only one that he fucked like this, and the only one that he'd keep in his lap, cockwarming him as he did paperwork or some other task that would be way too boring other wise.

And just as always, now too he managed to time his release to yours, and he moaned out loud as your walls clenched around them while he shot his cum deep into you.

But he didn't stop after that, he never does. He waits until you get down from your high before thrusting into your overstimulated pussy for three more rounds, until there is cum dripping down from the edge of the countertop and both of you are completely exhausted.

Dottore then grabs you by your thighs, his cock still buried deep inside you, and he sits down on a sofa, where you both take a nap.

At times like this, it's not only the psychopathic hollering of two maniacs that the Fatui Agents hear, but also the way that he makes you completely lose your mind in pleasure.

[blackrosesandwhump]

Whump Prompts 130: Lab Whump Aesthetic

CW: lab whump (obviously), blood, self-harm, psychological/emotional whump, magic whump

The lab rat uniform: loose, drab, hanging on whumpee's frame like it doesn't feel comfortable there

Bloodstained, soiled clothing, the result of experimentation

Whumpee left naked in their cell as their uniform is washed

Whumpee arriving at the lab facility as a new subject and realizing that whumper will be experimenting on them, not with tools and drugs, but with dark magic

Inhuman whumpees losing whatever shreds of humanity they might have had as time and experiments continue and they're treated more and more like animals

Or, conversely, inhuman whumpees that become more human and exhibit more human emotions as they're mistreated

Whumpee forgetting their own name because they're only referred to by a subject number

Disorientation from drugs/experiment aftermath

Whumpee's sleep, the only time they're alone, being disrupted by nightmares about what's been done to them

Or, a whumpee who's never left alone, always watched, always under observation of some kind

Whumpee's skin slowly turning into a scarred, chaotic mess from cuts/syringes/injections, etc.

Whumpee seeing their own distress and pain mirrored in the glimpsed faces of other lab rats in the facility

Whumpee learning to see themself as nothing but a test subject

Bandages, sterile gauze, sterile lights, sterile everything

Whumpee being overwhelmed when they catch a glimpse of life outside the lab when visitors arrive

Waking up after an experiment, seeing bloodied instruments and wondering groggily what terrible thing whumper could have done to them now

Learning to damage their own body to foil whumper's plans

Whumpee becoming desensitized to whumper's drugs and needing higher and higher doses for them to work

No longer recognizing their own body after recovering from whumper's last experiment

Whumper leading lab rat whumpee to a mirror, after intentionally keeping them away, and letting them see how pathetic they've become

Or, whumpee looking in a mirror and realizing that whumper has turned them into a monster

Whumpee deciding that it's too late for them and they might as well embrace what they've become

Feel free to reblog and add on!

[sweepweep]

No one can convince me that they didn’t “train” Hajime and Izuru like a dog during the lobotomy process.

Like a full eraser and rewire of someone’s mind and body doesn’t happen in one surgery, so during the process, they (for Hajime) would’ve conditioned him to expect surgery at certain times, expect tests at certain times, they probably took away any contact he had with the world and referred to him as Izuru Kamukura to try and speed up the process.

When it comes to Izuru after the final lobotomy, they would’ve had to “train” him even more. I mean, they now have a newborn with the abilities and strength of a god, who they’ve neglected to teach empathy or morals. If they wanted to do a test, and he said no, there was nothing they’d be able to do.

And of course they needed a way to keep track of their super-tool

That’s why my hyperfixated brain has decided that post-game Hajime/Izuru has one arm with a tattooed barcode, which if scanned, will show the entire process, including pre and post, and test results.

And that his other arm is scarred beyond belief with a mess of lichtenberg figures from his wrist to elbow from electrical shock. The scientists and doctors wouldn’t have been able to get remotely close to him if he didn’t want them to. So how better to control him than with a long-distance shock at the press of a button.

They weren’t going to bother teaching him how to feel things like regret, empathy, or morals, because a super weapon would be weakened by those. So they had to have control before he figured out everything and went off on his own and did whatever he wanted.

TLDR: The Hope Cultivation Plan was probably a lot more fucked up than we bother to think about. I could go on and on about this if asked (or not) to

(I do currently have a fic in process about this, of which I will shamelessly link when it’s done)