#implied dissection

[tanglepelt]

Dpxdc idea 176

Danny never expected to see Tim drake aka Red Robin ever again. Especially not when he just escaped the Giw covered in wounds and a Y he’d never like to see again.

Tim never thought he’d see Danny again, according to Danny only one of him could ever exist. The same one they were both certain was from a different dimension. They had searched up the justice league and Bruce Wayne from Danny’s bedroom. A dimension Danny couldn’t leave without risk of the GIW causing a war in the realm.

He had only ever met Danny after one of his opponents managed to shove him through a natural portal. He of course managed to modify his weapons to work in the infinite realms. Mortal safe food not to easy to find. It was mere chance he had run into phantom. From there he ended up waiting in Danny’s supposed different dimension until frostbite was free to let them use the infinite map to get him back home.

He really needed to look into the GIW of that was the case. First he had to deal with getting Danny medical attention.

[aprocessionofthoughts]

Nightmare

whumptober24 day 26- nightmare fandom- dp x dc tw- implied dissection summary- Danny has a nightmare and Babe gets a call

masterlist ao3 part 7 of TFR

The figures above him are nothing but shadows, except for the eyes. They glow bright red, big and shining and round. Shining eyes in shadowy figures.

Their voices are static in his ears, their movement stilted and wrong. 

There is pain. So much pain.

Danny knows the figures, but it doesn't make sense. These people aren’t supposed to cause him pain, so surely they’re not who he thinks they are.

There is a blade slicing his chest and stomach open. There are hands inside of him, tugging at his ribs, his organs, searching, always searching.

He can hear whispers. They tell him they’re helping, they’re freeing him, they love him. But how can that be? How can these people who are causing him so much pain love him?

The pain gets sharper as their figures distort, becoming more monstrous. Danny tries to scream, but someone has taken his mouth. He can make no sound. He is nothing. He is just a body strapped to a table with a knife in his chest.

Reality blurs again, and now he’s watching a figure with red fire for hair fight the monsters, but they are too strong. They’re hitting the fiery red figure. Danny tries to move, but he doesn’t have a body anymore. He can’t scream. He can’t move. He can’t—

“Danny!”

Someone was shaking him, and he gasped sitting up. Blankets pooled around his waist. He was panting and covered in sweat. He looked around desperately. Where were they? Where was he? Where was the table? Where was—

Someone grabbed his hands. “Breathe, Danny.”

He gasped before dissolving into a coughing fit. Someone was rubbing his back. 

Jazz.

Jazz was here.

They’d gotten out. They were free.

Tears streamed down his face, and he started to sob. Arms wrapped around him, and Jazz rested her head on top of his.

“Shhh… you’re okay, Danny. You’re okay. We’re safe. We’re okay. We got out. We’re in a hotel in Wellsburge. We’re safe. We’re okay.” 

Jazz kept whispering reassurances to him until Danny’s breathing evened out. He sniffled, and Jazz passed him a tissue. Her face was also wet with tears.

“What time is it?” he croaked out.

“A little past four in the morning. I’ll call Babs in another two hours. Then we’ll get tickets and start heading to Gotham.”

Danny nodded before flopping back into bed. He didn’t close his eyes. He didn’t want to fall asleep again. Without saying a word, Jazz turned the TV on, the volume at the lowest setting. Sitting quietly in the dark, they watched reruns of an old western show.

—-

Barbara was just clocking into work at the library when her phone rang. It wasn’t a number she recognized, but she answered as she started getting the library ready for patrons.

“Hello this is Barbara, how may I help you?”

There was silence on the other end. Babs could barely make out someone breathing.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Barbara.”

Babs froze. She recognized that voice.

“Jazz?”

She could hear Jazz sniffling. 

“What’s wrong?”

“We… we need help.” Jazz took a shuddering breath. “Can we stay with you for a little bit? It won’t be long. I promise! We just need somewhere to be for a little bit. And if you can't, that's okay. We can find somewhere—”

“Jazz, breathe.” Babs cut in. She put the phone on speaker as she activated her program to trace calls. “It’s okay. You can stay with me. That’s totally fine.”

“Are you sure?” Jazz’s voice sounded wobbly, and Babs closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Of course I’m sure. I said I’d help you, and I will. Can you get to Gotham on your own, or do you need me to pick you up.” She stared down at her phone, the call was coming from Wellsburge. She tried not to be disappointed that the call hadn't led back to wherever it was that Jazz and Danny really lived. They had called her. They were coming to Gotham. They needed help. That was all that mattered.

Jazz sniffled again. “We can get bus tickets.”

“Okay, that’s good.” She kept her voice steady, reassuring. “Are either of you injured?” 

Jazz didn’t answer, and Babs closed her eyes. The silence spoke for itself. 

“Mostly Danny, but I’m a little hurt too.” Jazz finally said.

“Will you be able to make it here okay?”

“I think so.”

“Okay. Have you already gotten the tickets?”

“Yes. We’re leaving for the bus stop in an hour.”

“That’s good. I want you to call me when you get on the bus, okay? Let me know when you get close to Gotham so that I can come pick you up. And if you need it, let me know before too. I don’t mind driving out there to get you.”

“Okay.”

Babs sighed. She activated her program that would virally install a tracker in Jazz’s phone. It beeped, and she frowned down at it. The virus hadn’t been able to install in Jazz’s phone. She huffed. That was a problem for later. She focused back on the conversation.

“Do you want me to stay on the phone?”

Jazz hesitated. “No. I think we’re good.”

“Okay. Call me for whatever reason, alright? I’ll answer.”

Jazz sniffled. “Okay.” There was silence for a moment. “Thank you, Barbara.” The dial tone sounded.

She stared down at her phone for a moment more. Then she texted the batchat that she wouldn’t be able to be on comms tonight. 

Tim could take over for tonight.

She had other things to take care of.

[galactic-rhea]

The Midi-chlorian essay only a few asked

(or, How Is Anakin Skywalker a walking biological horror)

So I made this post and a few were actually interested, also i needed to write down all of this or I wouldn't be able to sleep.

The way I went just from "hahaha they're just mitochondria before becoming forced symbionts and losing all autonomy" to the Medical Horror that would be Anakin Skywalker .

Let me explain, going from this theory, let me tell you that the average mammal cell can have between 800 to 2000 mitochondria. In Star Wars we're told that the average living being, has 2500 midi-chlorians per cell. The difference isn't that big, so we can assume that mid-chlorians are smaller than our real-life mitochondria, and it would make sense since the mitochondria have the best possible living conditions, whereas midi-chlorians, if they're free-life bacteria (as in, they aren't forced to live in the cells of another being) it would make sense if they're just smaller, let's say, sneaky, to increment their chances at living.

So Midi-chlroains don't just produce ATP, Force sensitives have a minimum of 4000-5000 midi-chlorians per cell. That's...a big number, but not very horrific. See, the amount of mitochondria is related to how much energy the organic tissue requires. The cells of muscular tissue and neurons are the ones with the highest mitochondria count. Also the mitochondria in the neurons are mobile and flexible, because just thinking burns ATP.

We can assume that using The Force burns insane amounts of ATP, so I assume it makes sense for Force Sensitives to have big amounts of Midi-chlorians. But! The problem with this is that we're told that the Midi-chlorians are attracted to the force, not born within it. But any multicelullar organism (with a few exceptions) need the mitochondria. Mitochondria have their own ADN, and they're always inherited from the mother, so we can assume that there's two different types of midi-chlorians: The ones any normal being borns with, and the ones that get attracted because of the baby's force potential. Either that, or both the mithocondria and the midi-chlorians exist simultaneously.

Which means that Jedi (or anyone who wants to know, really) would need to take several blood tests for midi-chlorians count. Because a newborns midi-chlorian count wouldn't be the same through a babie's infancy. UNLESS...The midi-chlorian infection (yes, i'm calling it that) ocurrs already since the pregnancy, if the force is strong enough for a fetus to be a possible force sensitive in the future, then I guess the midi-chlorians would get attracted to the parent during the pregnancy as well.

WHICH BTW, IT FITS WITH PADMÉ BECOMING FORCE SENSITIVE, at least for a while, like the discarded ROTS concepts. But also, would mean, that poor Shmi became a hella strong force-sensitive person as well, at least for a while.

And it would be a biological advantage if we take this route, because it would possibly make the pregnant being stronger and with a higher supply of energy.

It also explains why the jedi would only take a single blood test when the force sensitive is just a baby, because the infection is already settled. It can also be argued, that any baby born with a fairly high amount of midi-chlorians (like the 4000 per cell count minimum) would only increase, if only slightly, as the force sensitive grows because the midi-chlorians will get attracted regardless.

There must be a limit, or more like, a balance, that the midi-chlorian and the force potential of the individual met. As in, there's just enough force within the individual for a certain number of midi-chlorian, and all of this is probably decided already during the fetus formation or very early on the baby's life.

Now, Anakin...would be an abomination. Because his cells are so full of midi-chlorians, that it's scary to think how the cells aren't exploding or downright giving malfunctions to the rest of the cellular organelles.

If we go by the route of "midi-chlorians start infecting the force sensitive host mother during pregnancy" it means there were high chances of a misscarriage or an incompatibility between Shmi and Anakin, because holy cow, Anakin is just too much.

But you know what also, it could potentially mean? That Padmé's pregnancy was a risky one, fron the start -slowly nods-. Luke and Leia's force potential was lower than Anakin's, but there's still a lot to unpack there in terms of compatibility. We are never given the exact count of midichlorian count for the twins, but let's pretend it was low enough for Padmé to not inmediatly have a miscarriage. That, and also, maybe, Padmé isn't strong in the force to manipulate it, but maybe just close enough for the pregnancy to be carried to term, let's say, her midi-chlorian count is 3900, close enough.

Something similar with Shmi, I'm taking for granted that she also had a difficult and risky pregnancy (on top of it being a pregnancy she had no agency). It becomes worse because, unlike the twins, Anakin is just...50% human. The only possible genes Anakin has are from Shmi. So he's probably...genetically, almost a clone of Shmi but with a massive infection of Midi-chlorians (yes, this implies that Anakin has homogametic sex chromosomes, aka XX, there's no other possible explanation because he literally only has Shmi's genes to work with!).

But he's Space Jesus, though,so let's pretend that the "no father genes" helped with this and allowed Anakin to grow into a...normal-ish baby despite it all.

Midi-chlorians must be extremelly small, closer to the size of a virus in this case, viruses vary on size and the way they infect the cells is by hijacking the nucleus, which then can produce more viruses instead of its own proteins. This can vary anywhere between a production of 50.000 to 100.000 viruses produced by infected cells.

Which, btw, still fits somewhat with the mitochondria theory, because mitochondrias are believed to have been from a genus of bacteria called Rickettsia, which used to be believed to be the in-between of Viruses and Bacteria due their small size and extreme endosymbiotism.

Still, we aren't even told how many midi-chlorians Anakin had, just that it was over 20.000 and thus the chart couldn't even register it. Even if we're just counting 21.000 midi-chlorians per cell, that's...a lot. Even if the relationship is symbiotic and positive in nature, that's excessive, an infected cell will usually die faster. So Anakin's cellular death must be on record time.

The life span of a cell varies highly depending of the type of cells, white cells can live about 2 days, others about 5, and then there's others that live about 6 years in average.

Forget all of that, Anakin's cells die anywhere between a few hours and a week. Which also means a super fast regeneration and healing (Hey! that tracks, that's how he didn't die even though he should have, on several ocassions).

But that's not the only problem here, the production of energy is strong with this one, too strong. Again this should make the cells burst due too much ATP because of an increase on osmotic pressure. Anakin is producing so much damn ATP (which we can assume it becomes glycogen stored in muscles and fat tissue) his need to be active and just doing something skyrockets, he might as well be the equivalent of being high on meth since birth.

The accelerated cellular formation and death, gives me the horrific idea that Anakin was probably one of these babies that are born premature, but also that he probably was bron with, idk, teeth and already lots of hair. Maybe that's also why he got so tall of all sudden, lots of cellular grow, huh.

Anakin seems to age normally by what are we given by canon. So despite it all, his life-span or aging doesn't seem to be compromised, this is probably because of how strong he is with the Force. In the sense that...he needs the midi-chlorians to handle this much power, but he also needs the force to handle with that many midi-chlorians, otherwise he would have been already born dead.

See, ageing has a lot to do with stem cells. Anakin's stem cells need to be highly prolific and potent to keep cellular division happening at such a high rate, we can infer that any force sensitive has potent stem cells, so the force must inherently affect stem cells. So Anakin's stem cells must be monstruosities in efficiency. If Anakin donated stem cells to someone else, that person would either have a strong inhumne reaction against them or they would get some of the worst cancer ever seen. Again I'm no expert, but the fact Anakin doesn't develop cancer at all as soon as he was born is already impressive. The rate in which Anakin's cells die must be ridiculous, even has a baby, he must have required tons of energy and endure lots of stress which...tracks. The fact he gets electroshocked, burned, gravely wounded or whatever every week or so, must help him to no develop some cancer, which is a bit funny.

But it would also mean he can go long periods of time without eating or resting like...a normal human. Not saying that he doesn't need it, though, but his neural activity and use of the force must be high at all times to burn out that much energy. Theoretically, the production of glycose and glycogen helps him through long periods without sleep or food so he doesn't get long-term damage, or at the very least the ability to keep going, like I said, maybe is like being on drugs all the time; there's still the need to sleep and eat, but he can push his body to keep surviving beyond what's considered normal without having long-term damage. (Don't get happy, this isn't taking into account all of the stuff that happens to him, lol)

The balance between burning too much energy and not burning enough must be insane as well. As Vader, a lot of this probably watered down because all of his energy must be saved for...you know, surviving all the torture. But as a young teen/man amist war? Oh boy.

I'm not an expert, but I'm theorizing that putting Anakin in an induced sleeep must be...fricking hard. Painkillers that work on him? fricking hard. Anesthesia? Probably the same used for big animals, he must be insane and awful for a doctor to work with! Just imagine it, he probably gets injured in such a way that would have anyone else fall unconscious, but Anakin remains awake and with tremendous amounts of adrenaline triggered by a stress response sustented by the extreme amounts of energy that the midichlorians produce.

When it happens in the central nervious system, excess of ATP can produce neuronal dysfunction. In fact, many degenerative mental illnesses have a lot to do with a malfunction of the mitochondrias. There's a corelation also with neurodivergency sometimes, like autism or ADHD. I will leave it there.

And with all of this...I also conclude that Anakin, on general basis, doesn't like sugary things and doesn't even rationalize why, but is because he has already enough glycose. Having something sugary probably gives him a headache.

God what has Star Wars done to me.

[tourettesdog]

Whenever I consider the Concept of Little Baby Man dissec, this is all that comes to mind

[yourhighness6]

I've been thinking a lot lately about how so many people miss the point of TSR completely. Like Katara did forgive Zuko because forgiveness is earned and no Katara didn't forgive Yon Rha because she can choose who to forgive/ who not to forgive and no Katara shouldn't have killed Yon Rha because the whole point of the episode is that you don't have to forgive someone to show them mercy. That's why Bryke insisting that Katara "forgave Yon Rha" after the fact is not only fucking stupid because she literally says something exactly to the contrary in the episode and it doesn't just remove her agency it removes the complicated moral theme

[moldy-flowers]

Sakura and her comically oversized axes

[mollysunder]

The one thing I don't understand about the theory where Piltover and Zaun are teaming up to fight Noxus in the end, is why are Vi and Ekko flying towards Jinx's supposed airship if they're on the same team? Why does Vi NEED to confront Jinx in the middle of a warzone?

We see Ekko in garb that looks like he's on Jinx's side, but we mostly see him with the Firelights in those scenes, and they not decorated in Jinx's colors. Even minor background characters that are on Jinx/Sevika's side have a pink X on the right side of their chest. The Firelights are completely free of any graffiti or markers that would identify them with Jinx, and Vi is in an enforcer uniform. We don't see any other Zaunites in the crowd, but for some reason Vi and Ekko are centering their concentration on Jinx.

I think what's happening is that Ambessa's forces are fighting against Piltover's enforcers, but Jinx isn't helping, she's taking advantage of the chaos. Jinx is probably in Piltover to do something big that Piltover can't defend against since they're preoccupied with Noxus. Jinx will probably think the fight between Noxus and Piltover is the best opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. Vi and Ekko will probably object, they'll say her plan goes too far, and it'll get people killed. The whole scenario will probably be a more extreme mirror to whatever the Silco flashback will reveal about what went down on the Day of Ash and why Vander tried to kill Silco, except this time with magic.

[aromacaque]

you want to analyze a cartoon that is something children can watch? ok here's the first and most important lesson ever.

have you ever heard of "suspension of disbelief?"

ok. next step. do you know what an unreliable narrator is and can you separate the character's perspective and opinions from the writers? because i promise you that the beliefs of the main character do not always reflect the writers and the point of analyzing media is to dissect that.

[atissi]

as much as i dislike a lot of the backstory re-writes in darkest dungeon 2, i still think it's cute that plague doctor loses stress when she sees her professor cough up blood. you can take the freak actions away from the scientist but you cannot take away the freak behaviour.

[icylancet]

what i love about mhyk is the way they really played around the concept of magic and wizards and incorporated promises into the lore. like, we as humans often making promises to others, but most of the time, it's merely brushed off or not taken seriously. mhyk takes the concept of 'making a promise' to a whole other level by emphasizing the fact that promises are NOT meant to be broken and if it becomes broken, you eventually are forced to confront the consequences of your actions. (or in mhyk lore terms: wizards making promises to others---whether wizard or human---emphasizes the heavy weight that comes in making a promise and striving to fulfill that promise. you must always take your words seriously because it means a lot to others who are on the receiving end of your own words. wizards in this world lose their magic if they break their promise because it simply means that they failed to commit to their own words---to their own promise.)

[emberoops]

I could ask my mom about the human tissues - she’s been through med school - but then again, Ember hasn’t dissected a human. Mostly just one troll.

[waterfall-ambience]

pov you're a frog in 8th grade science class

[gelarshiesprofruitboarder]

ougghhhg i got like 4 mouse skulls but at what cost (so much fur. in my eyes. and my lungs)

[hyper-real-hedgehog]

and Jazz is so done with it "hey Maddie lets destroy the ghost, no Jack lets dissect the ghost, i know lets catch the ghost and rip him apart molecule by molecule"

Reality Trip keeps giving the vivisection fic writers fuel

[hquntinghunter]

why haven't i seen anyone point out how similar godot and aura blackquill are?? either i'm living under a rock or nobody has realized it but they both became bitter after The Incident and developed hatred towards a person that they blame for their loved one dying

[fili-oeuvre]

before you continue, I wanted to give a quick warning to please read the content warnings listed in the tags, if anything listed there disturbs you or makes you uncomfortable, please do not read this

{ INT. CONTAINMENT LABS - HALLWAY }

Cosmos said nothing as he was led through the hallway by Proctor.

He wanted to keep as much distance between him and this strange tailed one as possible, but he feared what would happen if the tailed one thought he was trying to escape.

This one called Proctor had come to his room that morning saying something about how he was “perfect” for answering a question that he had. Cosmos wasn’t sure that question was, but he didn’t really want to ask for fear of it being something dreadful.

Though, he tried not to get his hopes up.

He looked down at the ground for the rest of the walk, but he couldn’t help but look at the long tail that swayed behind the person in front of him.

He wondered about why none of the other ones seemed to have one.

Guess he’ll add that to the growing list of questions about this strange furless species.

——————

{ INT. CONTAINMENT LABS - OUTSIDE THE MENAGERIE }

After a while of walking, they came to a large set of doors that opened down the middle.

It looked like a completely different part of the lab that he hadn’t seen before. It had numerous black doors stacked on top of each other and seemed to extend at least five squares up.

He figured that these must be other rooms, since that’s the only thing that he could think of.

Proctor stepped onto a section in between one of the room and Cosmos followed suit. Almost immediately, the part of the floor underneath them started to float up.

Once it reached the fourth floor, the platform stopped and Proctor stepped off, with Cosmos doing the same. They walked down the elevated walkway until Proctor stopped at a room with the label: “Menagerie B: 454”. Proctor looked at the door and within a moment, the black door parted to reveal the captive inside.

What he saw almost made him gasp from shock and fright.

Inside the room was a large creature. It….it looked like a member of the Kin of the Bear. Only it was missing various parts of its fur. Mange came to mind, but he had seen mange and this didn’t look like mange.

Though that wasn’t what drew his attention. There were five thick “vines” attached to the wall beside it that looked similar to the ones that Samantha had put on him before, but these ones were a dark black and were much thicker. They even appeared to be pumping something into the bear as a soft “thudding” sound came from them along with an eerie dark magenta glow where it was attached to the skin.

The skin looked a sickly color, like this creature was both a moment away from death but was for some reason still alive. Scars were littered across its body, some looked like claw marks while others looked like whole pieces of its flesh were torn out and healed but didn’t replace the missing flesh.

The stomach of the bear looked bloated and unnatural, as if it had eaten too much. It was completely furless, having dark magenta vein-like markings stretching across it like thin roots from around the stomach where some fur still remained. One area was completely without fur, showing a trail of dark veins stretching up from the stomach to the neck and across the face of the bear.

Both of its ears were torn as if something had tried to rip them off. He could see the metallic chip on its right ear, just like the one that they had given him.

The legs and arms of the bear were chained to the floor with those same transparent bindings that had been used on him before. Not that it seemed like the bear could even attempt to escape. The claws on all limbs seemed to have completely torn out as if they’d been removed completely. Saliva dripped from its maw as its mouth hung open from its cries.

It sounded like every labored breath it took was excruciating.

This thing. It smelled like rot and blood. He could practically feel its pain radiating off of its tortured mass of a body. The fur on his body stood on end as he could only stare at the writhing creature as it let out soft cries of pure agony. A wave of nausea crept up from his stomach to the back of his throat, adding to the sense of sheer discomfort and fear he was already feeling.

A small trail of purplish-red liquid trickled down its face from one of its bloodshot eyes. Almost as if it was crying.

From where he was, he could see that the bear’s teeth had all been made flat or were completely missing.

Beside him, Proctor looked down at the pitiful sight.

Proctor: This one was quite a disappointment. *he walked closer to the creature* *his tail flicked dismissively at the creature’s soft pained cries* But, even the disappointments have their uses. Its mind may be insufficient, but its body and blood has proven quite useful. *he kneeled down and in one shift motion, cut with his claw-like finger into the side of the creature, causing a slightly louder cry of pain to emit from it* *a small stream of dark magenta blood flowed from the wound* *he pulled his finger away and looked at the blood before his mouth seemed to slightly open just enough for what looked like a black tongue to slip out and lick the blood away* *he stuck his finger into his mouth and even seem to make a sound of enjoyment like when someone is trying their favorite food* Delicious. *there was a hint of something like sheer pleasure in his voice*

Proctor turned his head to look at the horrified fox.

Proctor: Come here.

Cosmos didn’t move.

Proctor: Did you not hear me? Come here. *he sounded like an annoyed parent trying to make his kid behave*

Cosmos still couldn’t move. His body felt like it was locked in place.

Proctor: *expression changed to what looked like a scowl* Move now, or next time I won’t bother to knock you out before cutting open that little body of yours.

That snapped Cosmos out of the freeze state of mind, bringing his attention back to the human who was eyeing him down now.

With shaky legs, he began to walk over to where the tailed scientist was.

Proctor’s scowl turned to a neutral expression once again upon seeing that Cosmos was doing what he said now. His tail flicked slightly as if beckoning Cosmos closer.

In spite of the waves of discomfort and fear that rested on him like an unwanted heavy blanket, Cosmos couldn’t take his eyes off of the creature before him. He stopped a few feet away from the scientist, he didn’t want to get any closer to… it.

Proctor: This one gave us quite a hard time, you see. *he patted the side the creature* Killed quite a few of my workers before we got him under control. Normally, I would’ve simply terminated him and be done with it, but that would be such a waste. It’s not often that we manage to get our hands on this big of a specimen. *his face contorted into an imitation of a smile* So, I thought I’d test his limitations. *his eyes filled with what looked like pride* And it turned out better than I could have ever hoped.

Cosmos watched with wide horrified eyes as Proctor casually jabbed his hand back onto the small cut he had made. The creature let out half a shriek as its vocal cords sounded like they were straining to make noise any louder than a soft cry. When he pulled his hand back, it was covered in blood that didn’t look quite right as it looked to be a dark shade of red than normal.

He wasn’t sure why, but he couldn’t pull his gaze away from the no-fur as Proctor licked the blood from his hand. Repulsion and disgust welled up in his stomach at the sight.

Proctor: *quickly finished licking the blood before a sound almost like the purr of a satisfied cat emitted from the two black holes on his face* Delicious indeed~. *he turned to look at the fox yet again* I want to know what you think of it.

Cosmos: what? *his voice was no more than a whisper*

Proctor: Try some. *he said it so casually like he was just offering him an apple*

Cosmos’s breathing began to quicken and he looked between the two figures in the room. His full body went stiff as he once again froze in place.

Was he seriously asking him to… eat that?

Without even meaning to, he took a step back. His heart felt like it was trying to break through his ribs and run away from this awful room. He shook his head in disbelief.

Proctor didn’t like that.

Before he could even blink, a mechanical hand shot out from Proctor’s lower back, grabbing Cosmos’s around his stomach and forcefully bringing him closer. The hand covered the entirely of his stomach and lower back where it had grabbed him. Its grip was tight and unyielding, the cold metal of it sending shivers across his body. Or that could’ve just been the fear.

Proctor stared down at him with those cold gray eyes.

Proctor: And, what makes you think you have a choice? *another mechanical hand came around to hold down one of Cosmos’s arms, leaving only one of them free*

With his main hands, Proctor grabbed Cosmos’s other arm with a bruising grip, before securely holding his wrist in his other hand. He then moved the hand towards the bleeding wound.

Cosmos’s mind screamed at him to stop what was happening, but all he could do was kick his feet in a futile attempt to escape the vice grip of the hands. He could do nothing as his hand was forced closer and closer to the wound.

Warm blood met his hand as it was pressed on top of the wound. He wanted to throw up. He had had blood on his hands before, but never like this. This was nothing like the quick kills he had done when hunting. That was out of necessity, and he always made sure to kill them quickly. But this? This is was just…. cruel.

When Proctor pulled his hand away, a few drops of blood dripped from it onto the skin of the creature. He then brought his hand back to show him his blood-soaked palm and fingers.

Proctor looked at him expectantly.

Cosmos looked with terrified eyes at his hand. He felt like he was shaking, but he wasn’t sure if that was really him shaking or the hands maybe. He couldn’t tell.

Proctor made a sound like an annoyed sigh. A hand roughly grabbed his face, angling his chin up and cold fingers forcibly opened his mouth.

Without a moment of hesitation, Proctor shoved Cosmos’s hand into his mouth.

The metallic taste of blood coated his tongue. His sharp teeth poked at his hand, but luckily didn’t seem to break the skin. He wanted to gag, but he couldn’t. His widened eyes stared to look at Proctor’s cold unblinking eyes.

He knew what Proctor wanted him to do.

Nausea became to climb up from his stomach as he licked the blood from his own hand. He didn’t stop until it felt like his palm was clean.

After a few more moments, Proctor pulled the hand from Cosmos’s mouth, who gasped in barely hidden relief. Blood was still smeared around his mouth, but he paid no mind to it at that moment. His hand was covered in small traces of blood as well as his own saliva, but he was too shocked to even feel disgusted by it.

Proctor: Well?

Cosmos looked down at the ground, his vision was blurry from the welled up tears. He coughed indignantly as he breathed heavily.

He composed himself enough to speak as to not anger the tailed one further.

Cosmos: It’s *his voice sounded rough* ….fine. *shame and nausea whirled inside his stomach and mind like a whole school of fish fresh out of water* *he felt so ashamed and sick and disgusting and he just wanted to leave and never return to this cursed room*

Proctor hummed at his answer.

Proctor: Good enough.

——————

A little while later, Cosmos was thrown back into his cell. He had barely registered anything the whole way back, his mind still reeling from what he had been forced to do.

He was sure that he had vomited at some point, he couldn’t recall. Though, he could taste the bile in his mouth, the only real proof that that had happened.

He weakly crawled over to the corner of the room opposite of the bed and curled into a little ball.

——————

Part 8 :1

………

Cosmos: This is the worst day of my life.

Proctor: The worst day of your life so far.

Previous: Part 7

Next: Part 9