#experiment whumpee

[urlocalwhumper]

living weapon/military experiment whumpee being shown that they can create, not just destroy.

at the command of their former masters, they've razed fields and gardens alike, but now their eyes light up with pride as they watch the flowers they planted start to sprout.

they clumsily hold a paintbrush in their rough, calloused hands. they're a terrible painter, but no one's great when they first start out, and they just enjoy the process itself.

they used to be a mindless monster, an unfeeling weapon who obediently followed orders. but now they've been taught to think, to feel, to love. and they're happy.

[whitecoatwhump]

“I’m sorry, but you have to wear the muzzle during experiments now. While your screaming is understandable, it’s been scaring the other subjects and needs to stop.”

[whumpeteerscrankli]

Scientist Whumper has been working on his greatest achievement, a superhuman, for years. Initially, he had no reason for creating and enhancing Whumpee, aside from the usual “Research purposes” that motivated most of his other experiments.

Imagine how ecstatic he is to hear that a high-ranking government official is in need of protection. Imagine how pleased he is to be granted the opportunity to finally give Whumpee a purpose.

[inkwell-and-dagger]

Like a deer in headlights

UARAD Taglist: @creppersfunpalooza @toyybox @whumpy-wyrms

[missdevilll]

imagine a whumpee with regeneration powers, but his flesh and blood can cure people of any illness or injury

That's why he is kidnapped by a pair of scientists who want to sell his flesh and blood

They say his is helping sick people while they sell his flesh for completely healthy rich people

(thinking about writing this or turning it into an ask comic because I miss them)

(Also english ist my first language. Sorry for any writing errors)

[tildeathiwillwrite]

Whumpuary 2024 No. 7

"I didn't have anywhere else to go" | Bruises | Drugged

Whumpuary Prompt List

TW: kidnapping mention, bruises, drugged whumpee, exhaustion, fight mention, experiment mention

Whumpee stumbled through the city during the pre-dawn hours of the day, their progress severely hindered by strange exhaustion and bolstered by a panicked desire to keep moving. Nobody else was around, which was… good?

It was good. Other people would try to call the police.

The last thing Whumpee wanted to do was to get the police involved.

Because… because Whumper… Whumper would find them. That’s right, Whumper would find them. Whumpee didn’t want that.

Their thoughts moved slowly through their head as if swimming through honey. So it took them a few seconds to realize how silly it was that they had to remind themselves of what they did and didn’t want.

A spike of fear lodged in Whumpee’s stomach, prompting them to pick up their pace. They had to get to safety. 

They had to get to Caretaker.

As the thought crossed their mind in slow motion, it came bearing the sly bonds of doubt. What if Caretaker didn’t want to see them? That was the last thing Whumpee had said to Caretaker when they’d left after their fight. If I see you again, it will be too soon!

Whumpee paused, leaning on a nearby lamp post to catch their breath. Their face reddened with shame at the memory. They couldn’t remember what had sparked the argument, but it had escalated until Caretaker had said something… something unforgivable. Whumpee almost berated themself for not being able to remember before realizing that that was probably a good thing.

The fight was in the past.

How long in the past, Whumpee didn’t know. They weren’t sure how long they’d been held captive; their sense of time had been warped significantly by Whumper’s experiments. Whumpee groaned softly and pressed a hand to the side of their forehead. The bruise, put there by a furious Whumper at Whumpee’s lack of obedience, ached at their touch. 

I can’t have been held more than a couple days, they mused sullenly, but I have no way of knowing.

And right now, it didn’t matter. Whumpee needed someplace to hide, and Caretaker was the only person they could reach.

Motivation sparked, and Whumpee began walking again. Or tried walking. It ended up being more of a drunken stagger than actual steps being taken. Whumpee stumbled over an uneven patch of stone but caught themself on a convenient bench. If they fell, they suspected they wouldn’t be able to get themself to their feet again.

And then Whumper would find them.

And they would have to start all over.

No.

There would be no starting over.

Whumper would make certain Whumpee couldn’t escape again.

Whumpee quickened their pace. They needed to get to Caretaker before it was too late. Thankfully, the building where Caretaker lived was only another block away. Whumpee pressed the button for Caretaker’s apartment.

The ancient speaker above the list of tenants and buttons crackled. “It’s two a.m., asshole!” Caretaker snapped blearily. “You got the wrong place.”

“Caretaker?” Whumpee mumbled, leaning heavily against the wall.

A beat of silence. “Whumpee?!” Caretaker shouted, the cry immediately followed by a thump. The speaker crackled again. “What the hell are you doing here?!”

Whumpee couldn’t tell if they were angry or joyful. “I…” they hesitated for a heartbeat before shoving past their doubts. “I need your help. I… I didn’t… I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

The door clicked as it unlocked. “I’llberightdowndon’tgoanywhereplease!” Caretaker instructed, words moving so quickly that Whumpee barely understood them. The speaker crackled again before turning off. They stared at it before easing open the door and slipping into the lobby.

It was only sheer force of will that kept Whumpee upright at all. They would’ve collapsed long ago otherwise. But as they waited for Caretaker, their energy drained away like water in a leaky bucket, and they couldn’t stand any longer.

Caretaker rushed down the last flight of stairs to find them collapsed to the ground, still conscious but rapidly fading. “Oh hell,” they muttered before sprinting to Whumpee’s side. “What the hell happened to you? We—we need to get you an ambulance!”

“N—no…” Whumpee mumbled. They were… so tired. Their eyelids were as heavy as rocks. “You… you can’t… call the hos…hospital. They’ll… they’ll find me… and take me away….”

Caretaker’s eyes widened in horror. “What?!” 

“Please…” Whumpee begged, the edges of their vision darkening, “please… don’t let them… please….”

If Caretaker responded, they weren’t conscious long enough to hear it.

[mintflavouredwhump]

A whumper who has the captured whumpee pinned to the wall like a preserved butterfly specimen. Giant sewing pins pierce into their limbs and torso, staining their clothes with fresh blood every time they struggle to break free. It doesn't help that the whumper keeps telling them how pretty they look all pinned up.

[whump-and-other-misfortunes]

Whumpuary 2024 Day 3

3. (Jan 05-06) Used as bait / Stumbling / "This is gonna hurt"

cw medical whump, experiment whumpee, drugging/sedatives, implied kidnapping 

Whumpee groaned, blinking against the bright lights overhead. There was a searing pain behind their eyes and the rest of their body felt weighed down like they were made of molasses, slowly dripping into the ground. They tried to sit up but a hand on their chest pushed them back down. 

“Shh, don’t try to move,” a gentle voice said. “You’ve got some nasty wounds from that fight back there.” 

A figure moved into their vision, shadow blocking the light. Whumpee couldn’t see what they looked like, but the voice was unfamiliar. “Who’re you?” they asked, tongue heavy in their mouth. “You’re not Medic…” 

The stranger’s hand pushed Whumpee’s hair away from their face, skin covered by a latex glove. “You don’t need them, okay? I’m going to help you.” 

Whumpee attempted to move again, but the world bobbed around them like they were floating underwater. “D’j’you drug me?” they slurred. 

“Just a mild sedative,” the stranger replied with a chuckle. “I can’t have you struggling too much. Now relax, I’m a doctor.” 

Whumpee frowned. “I don’ think you are.” 

“Well, not yet. Technically,” the stranger said with a huff. “But how am I supposed to make it through med school if I can’t practice?” 

A jolt of fear went through Whumpee when the light glinted off a scalpel. “W-wait…” 

The stranger pushed Whumpee down when they started to struggle again. “Uh-uh, hold still or I'll give you more of the sedative,” they chastised. “And you might want to close your eyes—this is gonna hurt.” 

[quietly-by-myself]

A Wicked Work of Art - Chapter 14

Masterlist

I found it in me to write this. Going through a rough time and Akakios is my comfort character, so enjoy the penultimate chapter.

CW: medical whump, trans whumpee, test subject whumpee, experiment whumpee, fantasy racism, dehumanization, fantasy whump, institutionalized slavery, angels and demons, transformation whump, vague allusion to noncon, brief suicidal ideation

===

“You’re changing, my love.”

Asimi ran their hand over one of the nubs of horn protruding from Akakios’ head. Akakios, of course, was crying. There were few nights spent with Asimi that didn’t involve tears. It was a miracle, to Akakios, that Asimi wasn’t sick of him.

“There’s nothing that can be done?” Aka asked tearfully. The reality of it all was sinking in. He was becoming a dangerous creature. Before, he wasn’t human by virtue of being a mage of the dark arts. Now, he would be a monster. He’d be killed.

Not that it was such a bad fate, to be dead.

“No, Aka, my love. There’s nothing that can be done.” For once, the ever-steady Asimi seemed shaken. “I’ll be forced out of you, Aka. I fear for what that means for both of us.” Asimi took a breath. “Aka, we, as devils, are created by powerful emotions. The stronger the emotions throughout a lifetime, the stronger the devil. You will be powerful, my love. Able to defend yourself without me.”

“Asimi, you can’t leave me.” Akakios began to sob. “You’ve always been there. What am I going to do without you?”

Asimi looked away, casting Akakios into shame.

God, even Asimi would hate him now.

“Aka, I don’t know. I don’t know what’s going to happen. I hope we can escape. I hope we can overwhelm their forces and escape. But I don’t think that will happen. Young devils are out of control, Aka. They’re strong and unable to control themselves. With this happening now- look, I’m not a fortune teller. I just don’t know.”

It was the first time that Asimi hadn’t known.

That scared Akakios, more than Constantine ever could.

—

The rain pattered awkwardly on the windshield of Vasiliki’s car. When was the last time that Akakios had heard rain? He didn’t know. Of course, Akakios was out of control of his life once again, but he was, at least, outside the Facility.

Vasiliki, as he brought Akakios out of the car and into the apartment building, leading him with a firm hand on his shoulder, seemed nervous. Why was Vasiliki nervous? He’d never seemed this nervous before. 

Once Vasiliki opened the lock to his apartment - Akakios felt like he recognized the number, 504 - and practically shoved Akakios in, he took a deep breath. It sounded part like relief and part like anguish. Akakios fidgeted nervously with his hands, a little unsure of what to do. The apartment was a one-bedroom ordeal - not exactly what Akakios had been expecting out of the doctor.

“I,” Vasiliki took another deep breath. “I know that this is my apartment. I know what that means for you, Akakios. So, I wanted to say my intentions plainly.”

Vasiliki took a look around his apartment, as though he was looking for something hidden. Once he was satisfied, Vasiliki turned to Akakios.

“I have a friend who’s a revolutionary- one who wants to save the dark mages. He- he knows some devils. Some who could help you. I’m calling him to help us. To have us taken to a safehouse. To have you, most of all, taken to a safehouse. You won’t have to talk to me anymore - or anyone from the Facility. You’ll have other people. You won’t be a slave anymore.”

Akakios stood in shocked silence. It felt like a trap. It couldn’t possibly be true. Him? Free? Meeting devils? Being taken care of? The thought was foreign to him.

“Now, just- just sit quietly and let me call him.”

And so, that was what Akakios did. He found a quiet corner in the apartment, a little bit out of sight, while Vasiliki paced around the kitchen on his cellphone. There wasn’t much time before the Facility sent patrols looking for them.

Even if Vasiliki owned him. Even if he was here under the guise of Vasiliki fucking him-

“They’re on their way.”

God, it was actually happening. Someone was coming. Akakios could only hope that this would turn out well for him.

More quiet pacing from Vasiliki. More quiet corner-hiding for Akakios. 

Eventually, there was a rap on the door. Vasiliki jumped. Akakios curled up further in the corner.

As the people entered, Akakios curled up more in the corner, the prongs of the shock collar he bore around his neck digging in. He felt himself losing his grip. He couldn’t have panic be his first reaction to these people. Akakios needed to behave, not make Vasiliki look bad.

There were quiet whispers. One had golden eyes, goat-shaped pupils. Goat horns adorned his head. A devil. A devil in the flesh. A very powerful one at that. The other was a kind-looking man around Vasiliki’s age. He had brown skin, brown hair, and brown eyes, with glasses and a beard of stubble.

As the devil approached, Akakios pushed himself further into the corner, whimpering.

“Akakios, right?” The devil, the powerful devil, sat down across from Akakios, giving him plenty of space. “I won’t come any closer.”

When Akakios looked up at the devil, the room wasn’t Vasiliki’s anymore. The space was dark, pitch-black, yet Akakios could see the devil in front of him. Instead of that humanoid creature, though, Akakios could see a wolverine creature with goat’s hooves, eyes, and horns, sitting there, in front of him.

“They can’t see us here.”

Akakios pushed himself up, whimpering, but falling on his broken ankle. “I- Vasiliki is my master. You can’t take me away from him.”

The creature in front of him considered him for a moment before he spoke. “Akakios, I’m not taking you away from him, not unless you want me to.”

“What I want isn’t important. I’m a slave. I don’t have any wants.”

A pensive sigh. A flicker of eyes away from his face. For once, after having said that, Akakios wasn’t sure he’d said the right thing.

“Akakios.” The creature took a breath, before lifting a hooved foreleg. “I don’t care what anyone has told you before this. You are Akakios. Not a slave. Not to me.” The creature paused. “I want you to understand something, Akakios. You belong to yourself. Vasiliki, he’s done some right, but I’d argue he’s done more wrong than he has right. The greatest thing he’s done, though, was tell Stergios that he’s giving you up to freedom.”

“What?” 

Akakios’ voice came out as a weak croak. He was overwhelmed. Panicked. Tired. Confused. Why was this all happening?

It couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t. Because if it was, what had that year of torture been for?

“Akakios, as of today, you’re free.”

“Not legally. I'll never be free.”

The devil scoffed. “Mortal men think that they can make laws to control the universe. They’d make laws to control the Sun if they could. Akakios, the world is not in control of mortal men, not even ones as powerful as Vasiliki. Not of will, not of their laws. So, forget that a law ever told you that you were lesser. That you were a slave. Mortal men are foolish, Akakios, and soon, you won’t be one of them.”

It was as if the Sun and Moon collided. Everything went dark inside Akakios’ mind. He couldn’t think. Everything had shattered in a matter of minutes.

Elias, the devil, was right. He would not be mortal for much longer. A week if he was lucky.

Or a moment.

Something grew out of Akakios’ shoulders. Suddenly, he was standing on four legs. Spines protruded from his back. His mouth was full of fangs. Worst of all, horns laid on his head.

A piece of him had broken, that last hold out. That fear of becoming immortal. He was a monster, beyond the lives of  mortal men. There was no other way to be. As a dark mage and as a devil, Akakios would never be anything other than a beast.

“Aka, my love,”

Akakios’ golden eyes turned to Asimi, that silvery, draconic form, standing in the flesh, before him.

Tears formed in Akakios’ eyes.

“I- I’m sorry, Asimi.”

Asimi smiled as much as they could in that scaly form. “For what, my darling? This is who you are. And you don’t have to be with Vasiliki any longer. I know Elias, darling. He’s going to protect you.”

Akakios hesitated. “But what about you, Asimi?”

Asimi smiled a little. “I’ve retired from the cause. I love you too much to fight anymore, Aka. I want to be by your side. I’ll be with you, Akakios, but you need to recover. I can help, but Elias, he’s a professional. He’s been helping devils recover for hundreds of years. I was only ever a fighter.”

“But Asimi-”

“Aka, I’m not leaving.” There was finality in Asimi’s voice. “I’m staying with you. But I can’t always be with you anymore. You need to take care of yourself. Just, focus on that, okay?”

A sigh, this time from Akakios, as tears stained his fur. “I can’t do this.”

“You can, Aka. I know you can.”

“Akakios.” Elias spoke his name almost as though it were a command. “I want you to make a decision. You can come with me and leave Vasiliki. Nobody will hurt you for it. Or, you can stay with him, and we’ll do our best to help you recover in his presence.”

Akakios looked at Elias, panicked, chest heaving. “I-I, how could I just leave him?”

“Akakios. Vasiliki is part of a horrible system. Was. Was part of a horrible system. He enabled your abuse. He even abused you a bit himself. You can leave someone who enabled what has hurt you so deeply. You can leave anyone behind. That is your right. You are you and you make the decisions that help you the most. It’s not selfish to take care of yourself, Akakios. In my experience, you need to leave this type of thing entirely behind to move on.”

Moving on.

Could Akakios ever move on?

“I’m not worth it,” Akakios eventually mumbled.

Asimi walked over and put their talons on Akakios’ shoulders. “Aka, there’s so much you can’t see. All these wonderful things. I’ve lived a long time and- and I couldn't be happier to be your lifelong platonic partner. Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me. You are worth it. So, make your choice. Nobody’s going to hurt you. Not now. Not ever.”

Looking into Asimi’s silvery eyes, Akakios felt something that resembled a gut feeling.

“I’ll leave. I’ll-I’ll leave Vasiliki.”

With that, Asimi smiled. “You make a beautiful mountain lion, dear.”

===

@i-can-even-burn-salad, @whumpsday, @pigeonwhumps, @oddsconvert, @pumpkin-spice-whump, @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi, @writereleaserepeat, @just-a-silly-little-whumper, @sparrowsage, @inscrutable-shadow, @whumplr-reader, @whumpycries, @demondamage, @whumpshaped, @itsleighlove, @whump-blog, @whumpterful-beeeeee, @sunshiline-writes

[painonthebrain]

To strip back the flesh

CWs: Lab whump, experiment whumpee, clinical/detached whumper, surgical procedure/operation, vivisection, drugging/sedation (whumpee is conscious for the procedure though), non-con body modification (past), non-con touch, bodily fluids, body horror

Saul wakes up to an unfamiliar experience … being dissected alive. After all, there’s more than meets the eye with his body now.

———

Everything feels… floaty. Too light to be real. Dizzy and fuzzy and… and…

Saul shudders, lifting a heavy hand to his face. …What’s happening again?

He can hear someone’s voice, someone who reassures him, tells him it’ll be fine, but he doesn’t really believe that, not as the world sways and blurs. Another voice tells the first to leave, and he can feel something take his wrist and set it back at his side. He protests, murmuring something too muddled to understand; slurring the words into a mush of butchered gibberish.

The second voice has a face, blue and purple and orange, and honestly, that’s just too many colors, he thinks — she reminds him of ice; her sharp gaze trained on his body.

V… She’s V. He remembers. …He thinks. Val…

Val reaches for something he can’t see. He asks what she’s doing — but she obviously can’t understand.

“Enunciate,” she says, holding a… an object, something he can’t name… to his skin.

He tries. “..Dunno your… ff,,fancy words, V.”

“Hm.” She says, her voice noncommittal to anything he says. She busies herself in feeling up his chest area, tracing the outline of the… thing in his body. He gasps.

“Wha- at —”

He now realizes he’s not wearing a shirt.

“Shh.” Val checks the accuracy of her tool’s placement, then takes the instrument and cuts through the blackened, thin membrane of the core. Fluid leaks out, and Saul can feel the ugly, wet mess trickle onto him, spilling over his sides.

He can’t speak. The only sound that comes out of his mouth is a choked-back gag.

Val eases her fingers into the gap, pulling the skin back and pinning it down.

Another kind of fluid drips down Saul’s cheeks.

“No.. no- o, stop…” He begs.

Val doesn’t pay any mind to him. She plunges her hands deep into the gaping hole she’s created, probing his innards, the sensation of her gloved hands on his organs so oddly clinical, yet sickeningly intimate.

He swears his insides are literally twisting in disgust; but maybe that’s just Val pulling his intestines out of the gap and examining them, spreading more ooze and viscera across the trembling expanse of his flesh.

She makes notes on his condition, writing as if there isn’t a living, breathing person next to her, cut open and wailing, writhing — Val checks boxes and makes tick marks, filling in something that he doesn’t care about but means so much more to her than his pain.

He doesn’t even hurt that much, he’s too far away, but still too close — or maybe she’s too close, hands on his organs, pulling them out… revealing more organs, more lungs and heart and tangled up meat, hidden bones jutting through the cavity Val made that become revealed with every unwelcome touch.

Saul begs her, pleads for her to stop, drowning in a haze of confusion and inner turmoil, panic rising with every breath he takes. The intrusion of Val’s hands on his entrails is like an infection, crawling into every crevice there ever was in his body, squirming under his skin and becoming like a living thing, a parasite —

“He really does live on inside of you,” she remarks, and Saul doesn’t try to parse the meaning of her sentiment. He doesn’t want to know.

“He hasn’t woken up yet, however…” She continues. “Shame.

“There’s not much of a timeframe for this.” Val offers, as if to comfort him for being a late bloomer instead of an artificially made monstrosity.

“…But I can accelerate the process.”

- - - -

He wakes up, a gap in his mind, and he’s still fuzzy but he knows something happened, and his body is sealed together again and…

Wait.

This body…

It’s not his.

[urlocalwhumper]

scientist caretaker finally gets a job at some obscure lab they've never heard of. maybe a bit worrying, but whatever, they're fresh out of school and need the job. their boss is also concerningly vague about what exactly they'll be doing, but once again, they need the job.

once they're all settled in, their boss takes them down to the testing chamber. caretaker is expecting to be experimenting on something like rats or bugs, but their boss flicks on the lights and oh my fucking god that is a whole ass living person

[kabie-whump]

Badly Summarized WIP Poll!

Thank you @whumperofworlds for the tag this is my first time getting tagged in something like this teehee

Rules: Pick a bunch of your WIPs and summarize them as badly as possible, then ask your followers to vote on which one they’d be most likely to read. Multiple/all/none options are completely optional.

Tagging ummmmmmmm @sapphicccici and @morning-star-whump (no pressure ofc)

[whumpbump]

Quarantined pt. 2

Cw: sick whump, syncope (fainting) lab whump, experimentation

Whumpee breathed in and out with a lot of effort. In. Out. In. Out. In….. Out. Cracking their eye open, the saw the hazmat suits enter again. ‘Ugh. What now?’

The shorter of the two scanned Whumpee with a temperature sensor and gleefully exclaimed “Wow! In three hours after inoculation, Specimen 7.6.G’s temperature has soared from average to 104 degrees Fahrenheit!”

The tall one recorded this information and curtly ran through a checklist of symptoms for Whumpee to answer. Barely able to speak, they yes/no’d their way through the seemingly never-ending list.

Fever: yes

Vomiting: no

Nausea: yes

Nasal congestion: yes

Chest congestion: yes

Diarrhea: no

Racing heart: no

Aches and malaise: yes

Headache: yes

Light sensitivity: yes

Sound sensitivity: yes

Sweating: yes

Chills: yes

Loss of senses: no

Limb numbness: no

Sensation of pins and needles: no

Difficulty breathing: yes

Episodes of syncope: no yes

Episodes of syncope was crossed out and corrected when they did a tilt test to see how Whumpee’s blood pressure would respond.

“7.6.G I will NOT ask again. Stand UP.” The tall one was losing patience. Whumpee couldn’t see their face through the mirrored face shield but they knew it likely wasn’t a pretty sight. Taking a deep breath, they pulled the blankets back, shivering violently. They managed to stand up, though they were hunched over, holding onto the bed frame.

“Stand up all the way.”

Shaking, knees quaking, and wheezing, Whumpee straightened their spine out and immediately collapsed to the floor. Their body couldn’t handle it. The tall one corrected the symptom list as a third and fourth person entered wearing hazmats. They lifted Whumpee back into bed as the first two were above lifting and moving specimens.

The tall one and short one debated on whether they put Whumpee on oxygen.

“We need to see how nature takes its course.”

“Do we not want to see how long we can sustain someone’s last bit of health with the new pathogen?” The shorter of the two asked, concerned for the answer.

“No. That’s what specimens 7.6.H and 7.6.I are going to demonstrate. You’re not assigned to them, you are assigned to 7.6.G.”

Looking back at the sick person curling into themselves on their institute-provided bed, the shorter person in hazmat gear felt a pinch in their soul. Was it.. remorse? They’ve never felt it on the job before. Taking one last peek, they followed the tall person from the cell to enter notes into the database.

Sweaty and uncomfortable, Whumpee slipped into a fitful sleep.

[inkwell-and-dagger]

a tiny little eeny ref sheet for my wonderful ruaridh!!! here's the text <3 (except with some touchups / corrections because I'm too eepy to fix them on the actual pic)

Ruaridh Mullen (Experiment 009)

Ruaridh does not know their name, age or heritage*. They assume they were born in the lab they were being held captive in by a cruel scientist by the name of Derwyn Ellis, since they have never been outside the lab.

They have hardly interacted with another human before other than Derwyn, and they know nothing about.. everything, really. They only grew knowledgeable of the world through books, and thus fabricated their own version of the world through them. Throughout the experiments that were meant to turn them into a mindless killing machine, Ruaridh became a failure as the psychological aspects hadn't worked. Derwyn abandoned them in the forest outside of the lab as a result: Ruaridh's first time in the outside world.

*it's meant to say like. ethnicity. and where they come from. but yk

anyhow! I love them your honour they're just a silly fucked up dog <3

[willowthewhump]

"Your only job right now is to stay awake. And more importantly, stay silent."

Those were the last words Whumpee heard before his life was over. Before the normally subtle drip, drip, dripping of his IV began to pound in his ears. Before he lost his arm, and fuck, his arm-

Drip.

It hurt like hell. No, not even hell could compare to this. She'd said she was testing for something, but all he felt like was an innocent little butterfly being toyed with for some kid's scrapbook. Strapped down on her stupid little operating table with all her tools centered in his vision. That is, if he decided to look. But how could he look away? God, it was almost like he was being sawed into. Whumper had to be doing this on purpose.

Drip.

It was a little too late to focus on his feelings, though. Not like he could scream even if he needed to wanted to. He could feel it itching at the back of his throat, trying to crawl its way out of his larynx. He was going to break, it was too much, he just can't-

Drip.

He woke with a start. As he fully sat up, he noticed a few things. A backache, for one, and the irritation in his throat. He was either talking in his sleep or he screamed again. Probably both. Whumpee's arm was throbbing, down from his shoulder to his hand, neither of which he owned anymore. Substituted with some shoddy fucking replacement.

Then, a knocking sound.

"Mm..." He groaned. That should suffice a response, he really didn't feel like going through the whole 'are you okay' charade again. It was exhausting. Not after this nightmare..Not after this one, he couldn't.

"Another nightmare?" Caretaker asked, a little too awake for passed midnight. They definitely hadn't been to sleep, Whumpee gathered. At least their being awake wasn't something he had to apologize for.

"Can we even really call them nightmares anymore? I think when it gets to screaming they just call 'em night terrors."

"...Are you alright?"

As the bags under his eyes bwcame apparent in the room as Caretaker's eyes finally adjusted to the windowless room, Whumpee spoke.

"I don't think you want my answer to that question."

[ninja-go-to-therapy]

where branch and creek WHAT

okay hmmm how to explain this best…

So post TBT Branch and Creek are separately captured as lab experiments by… someone. Idk this part isn’t very fleshed out but anyways they’re lab rats and they get all the fun stuff that comes with that. Creek might be like,, the controlled variable? Whereas Branch gets the bulk of the testing.

Ultimately we end up with a slightly feral Branch who’s not All There and doesn’t particularly remember most of his life or his self. Finally Creek manages to break out and takes Branch with him because guess what! They’ve trauma bonded!

Long story short Branch is more.. animalistic at this point, but as feral as he is, he’s got something of a soft spot for Creek. He’s the only solid thing in his memory besides the scientists, and by comparison Creek is wonderful to him. Sure, Branch doesn’t recall the whole sold-them-out-to-the-Bergens thing, but Creek doesn’t have to mention that.

Anywho Branch ends up as a companion/pet to Creek, but don’t get it twisted, the codependency goes both ways! He might actually care about the little freak! (To clarify tho no this is obviously not an equal dynamic, Creek loves to be in control of something so dangerous)

And also Creek plays to Branch’s abandonment issues beautifully. The collar and chain only makes it so that they’ll never be separated!