What my page is about: Mostly my rants/mental health rambles into insanity, but also occasionally info on my para's/paracosms/oc's, the good word of the Lord, my self discovery into my neurodivergence
Pronouns: She/her (Just gonna put here that I'm Pansexual as well)
About me: I'm a Christian (Struggling but still practicing as much as I can)(I'm also not that kind of Christian so feel free to interact)🙏🏾✝️. My Hyperfixiations/Special interests include; SCP's, FNAF, MARVEL, Genshin, HSR, Creppypastas (Specifically Slendermans mansion). I love my parents but they are conservative, abelist, and homophobic (especiallymymom).
Neurodivergence: Self diagnosed with ADHD and Autism but I'm starting to suspect I may have BPD (Quiet) mixed in there as well. Also struggling alot with Severe depression and anxiety. Also also, I'm a full time maladaptive daydreamer.
I'm just looking for friends, advice and fellow neurodivergent and Christian ppl to relate to.
Feel free to dm me (Dont let my rants scare you^^)
Powers: Able to summon back up singers as well as weapons and depending on vocals are able to move elements.
High vocals: able to move water and air due to the friction in between the particles and able to stung enemies hearing for a few minutes if aimed at the ear.
Medium vocals: to play with fire either to make it calm down to a little flicker of a flame or grow widely with a more quicker tone, to lure enemies into a false state of safety.
Low vocals earth due to the lowness of your voice it joins in with the density of the ground and are able to pick it up and move it.
Drawbacks: it depends of the usage time
Short: loss voice
Medium: lose voice + hearing and be dizzy for a few minutes
Long: you'll fall into a sense of safety and be stunned in the middle of battle.
If you write something with a similar quirk please tag me I'd love to read it ❤️
sexism in medicine kills people. racism in medicine kills people. fatphobia in medicine kills people. queerphobia in medicine kills people. classism in medicine kills people. ableism in medicine kills people.
do not downplay people’s fears about being mistreated because they are a part of a marginalised group. it is a matter of life and death and you should be angry about it.
Since Luuk is colorblind, it would be a really cute idea to me if he was drawn to you by something on you which is constantly golden - which happens to be the color he can see.
Maybe it's your hair, some piece of jewellery, anything really. And he would constantly search for that tiny little spark in the crowd, his heart only at ease once he spots it.
Startorch Academy was many things: cutting-edge, unforgiving, meticulously organized.
What it was not prepared for… was Luuk Herssan being insufferably in love.
And somehow, this was your fault.
It started with tea.
Just normal, calming herbal tea, standard procedure before deep resonance diagnostics. You’d had dozens of these appointments before. Sit still. Don’t overclock. Try not to stare at the doctor.
This time, though, your hands trembled as Luuk turned his back to calibrate the scanner.
Three drops. That was all.
Colorless. Odorless. Ancient.
You told yourself it wasn’t really a love potion. Just an emotional harmonizer. Something that nudged attachment frequencies into alignment.
You were not drugging the head physician of the academy.
You were… helping destiny.
“Ready?” Luuk asked, turning back with two cups in hand.
You nodded, heart hammering, and watched in slow-motion horror as he took the first sip from his cup.
Too late.
“…Hm,” he murmured. “Different blend?”
You laughed too loudly. “Y-Yeah! New batch?”
He shrugged and drank the rest.
You waited for several minutes, but nothing happened.
You exhaled in defeat, then suddenly Luuk froze mid-step.
“…Oh.”
Your soul left your body. “Oh what?”
He pressed two fingers to his temple, brows knitting as if concentrating. Then his gaze snapped to you.
And stayed there.
Longer than usual.
“…Fascinating,” he murmured.
Your stomach flipped. “Fascinating bad or fascinating—”
“You’re very pretty,” he said simply.
You choked on air.
“I’m sorry?”
He blinked once, as if realizing he’d spoken out loud, then smiled. His smile was soft, unfocused, utterly unprofessional.
“Did I say that aloud?”
YES. VERY ALOUD.
From that moment on, Luuk Herssan lost his mind.
Or at least, that’s what it looked like.
He hovered. Constantly.
“You’ve eaten today, right?”
“You look cold. Here.”
“Walk with me.”
“No, closer.”
During scans, his spectral tendrils lingered far too long, tracing your resonance with unnecessary care.
“Your frequency is lovely,” he murmured once, entirely too close to your ear.
“Luuk, that is not medical terminology.”
“It should be.”
Nurses whispered. Students stared.
Yangyang, your aero-user friend, nearly died laughing when Luuk appeared behind you in the cafeteria, arms draping around your shoulders possessively.
“There you are,” he said warmly. “I was worried.”
“It’s been ten minutes,” you hissed.
“Ten very long minutes.”
“Oh my gods,” Yangyang wheezed. “What did you DO to him?”
“I DON’T KNOW,” you whispered back, panicking.
The worst part? He was adorable.
Lovesick. Obvious. Entirely gone for you.
Calling you by your name like it was something precious. Smiling whenever you entered a room. Looking vaguely offended whenever someone else stood too close.
“This is definitely the potion,” you muttered one evening.
Luuk tilted his head. “Is that bad?”
“Yes!”
“Hm.” He tilted his head again, studying you like a fascinating case. “Then why does it feel so right?”
Before you could answer, he leaned in, slowly. Painfully slowly. Giving you all the time to pull away.
But, of course, you didn’t.
His forehead brushed yours first. Warm. Intimate. His breath mingled with yours, and you could feel the faint hitch when he exhaled.
“Tell me to stop,” he murmured, lips barely a breath away.
You didn’t say anything. Too stunned to even utter a single word.
So he kissed you.
It was not rushed. Not desperate. His lips pressed against yours with gentle certainty, like he’s been waiting. Testing the shape of your mouth, learning you. One hand slid up your side, thumb resting just beneath your ribs as if grounding himself.
Your knees went weak. You make a small, involuntary sound, and that’s all it takes.
His mouth moved more firmly now, coaxing rather than taking. When you parted your lips, he followed, slow and deliberate, kissing you like this isn’t a spell but a choice he’s savoring.
His thumb stroked small circles at your waist. Another hand cupped your jaw, tilting your head just enough to deepen the kiss. You felt the brush of his breath, the warmth of him everywhere.
You clung to his coat without thinking, fingers curling in the fabric as if it’s the only thing keeping you upright.
When he finally pulled back, it’s only a fraction. His nose brushed yours, lips still close enough that you felt the heat of them.
“…Oh,” he whispered softly. “That confirms it.”
Your voice came out breathless. “Confirms what?”
“That I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time.”
Your heart slammed against your ribs.
This is wrong, you thought weakly.
And yet, you leaned in again.
***
You should have stopped it sooner.
You should have neutralized the elixir.
But the longer it went on, the harder it became. Because somewhere between Luuk insisting on “escorting” you everywhere and pulling you into his arms during training simulations, it stopped feeling fake.
And that terrified you.
So one night, you finally broke.
You were alone in his office, sitting on the exam table while he stood between your knees, hands resting comfortably on your thighs like that was normal now.
You grabbed his sleeve.
“Luuk. I have to tell you something.”
His smile faded instantly.
That alone made your chest tighten.
You swallowed hard.
“That tea,” you blurted. “I-I put something in it. An ancient love elixir. It wasn’t real, and I’m so sorry, I just— I like you. I’ve liked you for so long, and you were always so distant, and I found it in the ruins and I didn’t think you’d ever—”
Your voice cracked.
“I never meant to trick you,” you whispered. “I just wanted you to choose me. Even if it was fake.”
Silence fell.
Luuk didn’t move.
Then, slowly, he laughed.
His laugh was not the usual soft, lovesick ones he had offered for the past few days. Rather, it was more of a amused type.
“…You know,” he said calmly, lifting your chin so you had to meet his eyes, “you’re the first person who’s ever been bold enough to drug a doctor.”
Your blood ran cold.
“…What?”
“The elixir,” he continued mildly. “Ancient emotional catalyst. Sloppy around the edges, but effective.”
Your heart dropped into your stomach.
“Y-You—you knew?”
“I knew the moment it touched my tongue.”
Everything—the flirting, the clinginess, the chaos—replayed in your mind in horrifying clarity.
“You were faking it?”
Luuk smiled. Looking sharp now, as if he’s now fully himself.
“I was exaggerating,” he corrected. “I never lied.”
“…Why?” you whispered.
He leaned in, forehead resting against yours.
“Because you were brave enough to reach for what you wanted,” he said quietly. “And because I already wanted you.”
Your breath shook.
“So the puppy act—”
“Very fun,” he admitted. “Your reactions were delightful.”
“You’re evil.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “But tell me to stop now, and I will.”
You didn’t.
Instead, you kissed him hard. This time, without potion or lies.
Fck sake, Wuwa, why are you so HEAVY. I miss my boy M!Rover.
I can't even play anymore because of how heavy it is 💔
M!Rover is so gentle with you, always standing close to you. Making sure you're okay and not injured anywhere, because if you did got hurt within his reach he would internally scold himself for it.
M!Rover would be a good listener to you, or would simply just let the silence take over if you're not the talkative type. He somehow never really brings out any awkward situation whenever you two are relaxing.
M!Rover is much of an Act of Service man.
M!Rover would let you touch his hair, braid them too. Just because he wants to feel your hand. Though he wouldn't admit it.
M!Rover would bring you gifts that reminds him of you, usually they would be small gifts because it's convenient for him since he's always on the run.
M!Rover is the type to watch you eat whenever you two go out to eat together, just to admire you. Making sure to take notes on your expressions on the food you're eating, perhaps he could try making it for you next time.
M!Rover is a headpat giver.
M!Rover is a protective partner, be it in the fields or simply just hanging out. Whenever he heard you planning to go out alone, he would definitely offer himself to company you.
M!Rover would make time for you no matter how busy he is, if he could bring you with him he would, if you're not the fighter type he wouldn't bring you with him for your safety.
If M!Rover ever heard of the news of you getting heavily injured, he would rush over to where you're getting taken care of. After he saw your injuries he promised himself to never let you be in that condition again, and while you're still on recovery, he would visit you everyday after he's done with his tasks, bringing you gifts and food.
M!Rover is aware of how much you've been stealing glances at him whenever there's a group meeting. And sometimes he would purposely look at you and tilts his head, and he would definitely chuckle at your embarrassment of getting caught staring.
Summary: Law isn’t good with words. But after finding himself thinking about the quiet ways his father used to show love to his mother, Law decides to try something different.
You sat at the table with Penguin and Shachi while Bepo lay sprawled comfortably across your lap, quietly enjoying the way your fingers scratched through his soft fur. Your fingers moved lazily through the white fluff, and the large polar bear instinctively shuffled closer, fully embracing his role as an oversized stuffed animal.
From across the room, Law watched you.
There was something soft in his gaze, something thoughtful. The corners of his lips threatened to curl into a smile.
The truth was, he had always had a weakness for cute things. And for quite some time now, he had considered you to be the cutest of them all.
You in your warm, soft pajamas. You peeking into his office late at night carrying a fresh cup of coffee and something to eat. Sometimes it was hot chocolate instead, accompanied by yet another attempt to convince your doctor, your captain, and your boyfriend to try the sugary disaster despite his constant insistence that he “wasn’t really into sweets.”
You, always willing to listen whenever he rambled about a new medical discovery, your eyes bright with interest and your smile completely genuine. Even when he talked about things the crew would relentlessly tease him for, like his comic books or his coin collection, you never looked bored. Not once.
He found your clumsiness endlessly endearing too. Somehow existing within the same person capable of deadly combat and flawless strategy. It reminded him painfully of someone from his past—someone just as warm and sincere.
Though you were considerably less accident-prone, he had to admit.
He still hadn’t found the strength to tell you about that person.
Truthfully, there were many things about his past he hadn’t managed to share yet. You had probably pieced fragments together already through conversations, things overheard from the crew, and your own intuition. Your relationship was still young enough that there were chapters of each other’s lives left unread, but old enough that neither of you needed every detail to understand the other.
He loved finding you curled up in the library with a book, or half-asleep in bed—sometimes your own, sometimes his—waiting for him to finally stop working and come lie down too.
He loved the spark that lit your eyes whenever the two of you visited museums in whatever city the crew temporarily docked at. The conversations about paintings, writers, history, myths. The way your excitement spilled into every topic you touched.
And he loved your affection for sweet things.
Especially, as you constantly reminded him, for him.
“The sweetest thing of all.”
Every single time, it earned an exasperated eye roll, ears tinged pink beneath the brim of his hat, and a desperate attempt to change the subject or stare intensely at the nearest wall.
Sweet. Sweet. Sweet.
Law wasn’t always fond of revisiting the past. It followed him regardless of where he went, a shadow he had never quite managed to outrun.
But that evening, his thoughts drifted to his family.
To his father.
He remembered the way his father would surprise his mother with bouquets of the freshest flowers he could find. There was always a small note tucked among the stems, usually containing only a few words, yet somehow capable of bringing an even brighter smile and a blush to her cheeks.
Sometimes his father would return home early from work, a near impossibility for a doctor as respected as he had been, simply because he wanted more time with his wife and children.
Law remembered him helping around the house without being asked. Cooking lunch. Washing windows. Dusting shelves. Even the smallest, most ordinary little acts had been woven together with care and affection.
The captain found himself yearning for that too.
Love didn’t always have to be spoken.
Perhaps that was why the memories lingered.
Because words had never been his strongest point.
He loved you.
God, he loved you.
There was never any doubt about that.
Yet sometimes it felt as though an unbearable invisible weight sat heavily across his shoulders, preventing him from taking that final step and showing you every ounce of tenderness he carried for you.
And there was so much tenderness. More than he knew how to express.
He only hoped you knew that already.
So he started small.
Just as you were about to leave your room and march down the corridor to his office and force your chronically sleep-deprived boyfriend into getting at least a tolerable amount of rest, the door slid open.
Law stood there holding two mugs of hot chocolate piled high with whipped cream and two books tucked beneath one arm.
“I figured you could use about three hundred milliliters of concentrated sugar shock right now.”
His voice was as flat as ever, but the warmth in his eyes betrayed him. One corner of his mouth twitched upward as he stepped inside.
You blinked.
Before you could say anything, he crossed the room, placed one of your favorite books in your lap, and set the mugs on the nightstands on either side of the bed.
A moment later he slipped beneath the blankets beside you. Without a word, he nudged you gently against his shoulder and opened his own book.
You stared at him. Then at the hot chocolate. Then at him again.
“…Are you feeling alright?”
Law snorted.
“Unfortunately.”
You laughed, and the sound alone made the strange fluttering sensation in his chest feel worthwhile.
A few mornings later, you woke to something even stranger.
Instead of waking up alone in bed while Law disappeared into another round of research before sunrise, you woke up wrapped tightly in your lover’s arms, his hands resting securely around your waist.
For a long moment, you simply stared.
It wasn’t unusual to fall asleep together.
It was unusual to wake up together.
Usually, by the time dawn painted pale streaks across the submarine’s metal walls, he had already disappeared into his office to bury himself beneath stacks of notes and medical journals.
As though he sensed you stirring awake, he pulled you even closer, a sleepy sound escaping him.
Then he buried his face deeper into your hair.
“Keep sleeping.”
His voice was muffled against your head.
“We’re comfortable like this.”
You smiled despite yourself.
“Captain, are you cuddling me?”
“No.”
“You literally have me trapped.”
“It’s a strategic embrace.”
A laugh escaped you.
The vibration of it made him pull you even closer. He inhaled slowly, catching the familiar scent of coconut and mango from your shampoo.
Warm. Comforting. Home.
For once, neither of you moved.
On another morning, you walked into the kitchen expecting to begin preparing breakfast for the crew since it happened to be your turn.
Instead, you found Law already there.
The counters were occupied by ingredients, dirty bowls, and evidence of what could only be described as organized chaos. He was in the middle of arranging food onto plates.
When he noticed you standing in the doorway, he immediately became very interested in the knife he was holding.
“I couldn’t sleep. Thought I’d make things easier for you.”
His eyes flicked toward yours, nervous despite himself as he waited for your reaction.
Your entire face lit up and you immediately walked up to shower him with kisses..
Before he could retreat, you crossed the kitchen and threw your arms around his neck.
“Law!”
You kissed one cheek.
Then the other.
Then his jaw.
Then his forehead.
The poor man nearly short-circuited.
He blushing so hard it was almost concerning, grumbling under his breath and pretending to complain the entire time.
Heat rushed straight to his ears.
“H-Hey.”
Another kiss.
“Cut it out.”
Another kiss.
“I’m serious.”
Another.
You finally pulled away enough to see his face.
Bright red.
Absolutely mortified.
And cute. Very cute.
Law muttered something incoherent under his breath and turned back toward the food as if the frying pan had suddenly become the most fascinating object in the world.
You only laughed harder.
The gifts continued.
Whenever the Polar Tang docked somewhere for supplies and circumstances forced you to stay behind to guard the submarine, your Surgeon of Death always returned with something for you.
A rare edition of a book.
A dress he’d spotted in a shop window.
A local dessert from a bakery tucked away in some side street.
A trinket tied to the history of the island.
Something thoughtful, chosen specifically for you.
He never made a big deal out of it. Usually he’d leave the gift beside you with a muttered explanation before pretending it wasn’t important.
Once, he returned with a shirt he clearly intended for you to sleep in—a design modeled after the tattoos stretched across his chest.
He didn’t even stay long enough to watch you open it.
The second he dropped the bag onto the couch beside you—where you sat listening to yet another one of Penguin’s ridiculously long jokes—he turned on his heel and marched straight back to his office.
He did not wait to watch you open it.
His stomach was performing acrobatics the entire way there. His pulse wouldn’t settle and something beneath his ribs felt unbearably strange.
Fifteen minutes later, a knock sounded at his door.
Then it opened.
You stepped inside wearing only your robe and the shirt.
Law glanced up and promptly forgot how breathing worked.
The oversized black fabric disappeared beneath your bathrobe, but the familiar tattoo design stretched across your chest exactly as he’d imagined.
Heat rushed violently up Law’s neck, spreading over his ears and across his cheeks in seconds.
“H-Hey… what are you doing?” he asked, heart pounding so hard he was convinced it might burst straight through his ribs and sink the entire submarine.
You smiled at him from beneath your lashes.
“I wanted to show you how much I like my gift.”
You walked over slowly, placing both hands on his shoulders before covering his face in kisses—his jaw, cheek, forehead, eyes, eyebrows, nose, and finally his lips.
By that time whatever remained of his composure had surrendered completely.
He deepened the kiss immediately.
Strong arms wrapped around your waist before sliding lower, lifting you effortlessly into his lap and pulling you flush against him.
When the kiss finally broke, his forehead rested against yours.
“I like it too,” he whispered against your mouth, the corners of his lips curved slightly.
“Especially on you.”
The following week, the Polar Tang surfaced near a small coastal town.
For once, there were no emergencies and the crew scattered to enjoy the rare sunlight however they pleased. Some swam. Others wandered into town. Some napped on deck, read books, or simply enjoyed the fresh air before the submarine inevitably returned to the dark depths below. Some headed into town.
You and Bepo claimed a comfortable spot on deck and spent the morning enjoying the warmth.
Law had gone into town on urgent business—restocking ingredients for his medicines—but insisted he wouldn’t be long and that there was no need for you to come with him.
Bepo had strangely supported this argument with suspicious enthusiasm.
Still, you didn’t think much of it. Days like this were rare.
At some point, Bepo wandered off to grab cold lemonade while you stayed stretched out in your chair, eyes closed, listening to the waves and feeling the ocean breeze brush softly against your legs.
Everything felt peaceful.
Then suddenly, a tall shadow blocked the warmth of the sun.
You peeked over your sunglasses and found your beautiful, impossibly tall boyfriend standing over you, holding an enormous bouquet of peonies in soft pastel shades—soft pink, white, creamy, pale lilac. Petals layered like clouds.
Your breath caught.
“They’re beautiful,” you whispered, eyes shining as you buried your nose into the sweet floral scent. “How did you know these were my favorite?”
Law watched you quietly.
His expression softened.
He’d known because months ago you’d stopped in front of a flower stall and spent nearly ten minutes admiring peonies.
You hadn’t realized he’d noticed, but he did of course.
Law noticed everything about you.
“Lucky guess,” he replied quietly, watching you instead of the flowers.
You narrowed your eyes.
“Liar.”
He shrugged.
Your fingers brushed against a folded note tucked between the stems.
The moment you noticed it, Law swallowed hard.
Suddenly he felt far more nervous than he had facing emperors, marines, or sea monsters.
Slowly, you unfolded it and three words stared back at you.
I love you.
You looked up at him immediately, startled and flushed pink.
Then Law exhaled.
“I mean it,” he said before you could speak.
“Even if saying it out loud is hard for me sometimes. I love you. Breathing feels easier when you’re around. I sleep better beside you. You make every day better.”
He continued before courage could abandon him.
“Everything is better.”
The vulnerability in his expression nearly broke your heart. And he swallowed thickly.
“Sorry if I’m not always good at showing it.”
Tears gathered in your eyes before you could stop them and you laughed softly and shook your head.
“I love you too, idiot,” you whispered, hugging the bouquet tighter. “Very, very much.” A tear escaped despite your smile.
“And trust me—you show it plenty. I never want you to stop.”
Something warm settled inside his chest. The anxious knot he’d been carrying all morning finally unraveled.
“I don’t plan to.”
He carefully took the bouquet from your arms and placed it on the lounge chair beside you, You could put them in a vase later.
Subject Warning: Subjects of rape, unknown pregnancy, labor and delivery, possible unfit parent. Swearing.
"HELP!", Whumpee screamed, "HELP! FUCK, PLEASE HELP ME! IT HURTS!"
A guard hurried to Whumpee's cell.
"What's happening?", they worked at opening the cell door.
"I don't.... MMMM... I don't know. It feels wet down there, and it feels like I'm being stabbed", Whumpee cried, "Oh, fuck... help me."
The guard pulled out their radio, "Hey, one of the lab rats is having a problem. We really need Doc to the kennels. I don't know what is happening."
Whumper sighed as they got off of the elevator.
"This better be....", Whumper paused when they heard the yelling, "important. What the hell?"
Whumper hurried down the hall.
A group of guards surrounded a cell.
"Out of my way, all of you", Whumper hurried, "what the heck?"
The scene: a caregiver was already inside of the cell with Whumpee. Blood up their arms and some going onto the floor.
"Come on, give me another push", the caregiver ordered.
"What are we pushing?", Whumper hurried inside.
"Whumpee is in labor", the caregiver yelled over Whumpee's screams.
"Labor? T....they're not pregnant", Whumper knelt down and peaked under the drapes the caregiver had used to cover Whumpee, "what the fuck. None of my rats are supposed to be pregnant", Whumper's face turned pale.
"Tell that to the broken water, and the infant about to come out", the caregiver frowned, "take over so I can be up there with Whumpee. They had no preparation for this. This is going to be a hard one."
"Yes... Alright Whumpee. I need one really good push", Whumper hurried to take their place.
"Whumpee, hold my hand, I'm right here with you", the caregiver grabbed Whumpee's hand, "squeeze as hard as you must."
Whumpee screamed as they pushed again.
"I got a head", Whumper yelled, "Whumpee, take a good breath. One more push, we should be good. You are doing great."
Whumpee sobbed, "I-I can't, it hurts... I can't give any more."
"I know, but give me one more. I'm sorry this is happening. I promise I will figure out what happened later", Whumper comforted, "we got to finish first."
"AAAAAHHHHHH!!!!", Whumpee screamed as they tried once more.
"We've got a baby", Whumper called up, "take a breath. We still have to deliver the placenta. Guards, I need a gurney. Call up to recovery and have a room prepped for postnatal care. Stat!"
Whumpee's shirt was cut open, and the baby was forced onto their chest.
"Here comes the placenta", Whumper called up, "prep them for transport. Chord is remaining attached to the placenta until we are in recovery."
Whumpee cried as the baby was forced onto their nipple.
"I'm sorry Whumpee, but this is the only way. We are not prepped to have a baby here right now", the caregiver held the baby to Whumpee.
Whumper frowned as the gurney arrived, "this should have never happened in the first place, and I can't wait to find out how."
Whumpee was taken to aftercare, nurses hurried to assess them.
Whumper had grown nervous that Whumpee had bled too much during labor.
Whumper assessed the baby.
"How do they look?", the caregiver worriedly watched.
"Well, for us not knowing anything about this... they look pretty good. I will have to go through Whumpee's recent test to make sure nothing was done to harm the infant. I had no idea. They gained some weight, but nothing I considered to be a problem. I just thought they were enjoying their food a little more. Their diet is overall healthy, so we shouldn't have any concerns for the baby", Whumper sighed, "I don't think Whumpee was used for any harmful experiments, at least within the last nine months. The baby should have a good quality life."
"What are you going to do with the baby though?", the caregiver frowned, "Whumpee can't care for it."
"Well, that is overall Whumpee's choice. I don't know how they feel about this situation. If they want, I will allow them to take care of it. If they do not want that, I will figure something else out", Whumper stood.
"They're a lab rat. How are they going to take care of a baby?", the caregiver frowned.
"I guess we will have to see. This infant unfortunately can not go to anyone on the outside. Just in case something does transfer in from Whumpee's DNA. We can't risk civilians who are unsuspecting. I need to check on Whumpee now."
Whumpee groaned as nurses worked to clean them off.
"This hurts so bad", Whumpee complained sorely.
"I know, sweetie, I am so sorry", a nurse sighed, "those pain meds should be kicking in momentarily. Doc gave you the good stuff."
"Where is the baby?", Whumpee sighed.
"Your baby is right here Whumpee", Whumper came in smiling, "you did a good job. I've checked them all over."
"Ma-may I hold them?", Whumpee looked at them, then the baby.
"It's your baby", Whumper nodded, "which begs the question... what are we going to do with them?"
"Wh-what do you mean?", Whumpee looked up worriedly.
"Don't worry, I don't mean any harm to the infant, but we do have a few decisions here", Whumper sat down, "I'm going to do a full exam on you to make sure everything is alright. The drugs will make you more comfortable soon."
Whumpee nodded.
"So, I will allow you to keep the baby... if you want. You put in the work, so if you want, I will aid you in caring for them. You will be provided with everything you and they need", Whumper started to examine Whumpee. "If you do not wish to take care of them, I will figure out something else. I will agree with whatever you choose and will not push. This was unfair... what happened to you. It shouldn't have happened, and I take responsibility for that."
"Wh-what happens to them if I say no", Whumpee sighed, "they are cute, but I don't know what to do."
"To be honest, I have no idea what I'll do, but they are safe. I do not wish any harm on children", Whumper sighed, "you are not expected to know how to take care of them. You are only a baby yourself."
Whumpee made a face.
"Well, my baby, at least. I love all of my rats", Whumper grinned, "everything looks good down here."
Whumpee sighed, "I-I want them, though, I don't know what kind of life they'll have here."
"I will give them what they need", Whumper sighed, "though they probably won't have a typical childhood."
Whumpee nodded.
"I can probably figure out what happened to cause this. Can we talk about this though", Whumper lowered the drape to cover Whumpee's legs.
Whumpee looked at Whumper until tears formed and caused their vision to blur.
"Take your time Whumpee", Whumper sighed, "do you want me to hold them while you settle."
Whumpee nodded.
Whumper sat back after cuddling the baby into their arms.
"Af-after you did the... you did the surgery to fix my throat", Whumpee sighed, "I was left alone for a little bit to recover. I think the nurses had to clean or something. I was still loopy.... I couldn't call for help."
Whumper watched as Whumpee broke again.
"Can you tell me just two things more... I won't force anything else", Whumper watched as Whumpee nodded, "was it a guard?"
Whumpee nodded.
"Are they still in service to my lab?"
Whumpee visibly shook as they nodded again.
"Alright", Whumper nodded, "you'll rest in here for right now. I will probably move your cell into a safer location. It will be bigger for you as well since you will share a space. I'll go over rules and stuff later after I come up with them. You did a great job today."
Whumpee slept soundly... until the door to the recovery room opened.
Whumpee jolted up to see a dark figure step in.
"No... please", Whumpee whimpered. They glanced at the makeshift cradle Whumper had made for them.
"Don't yell... you yell, I'll kill you to", the dark figure warned, "you whore... how dare you be fertile enough. What did you tell Doc?"
"No-nothing... pl-please leave. You're not allowed to be here", Whumpee shook.
"I'm not allowed.... hmm?", the figure chuckled evilly, "how dare a lab rat give me commands. I'll leave, but I need to take care of my little accident first. Come to Papa."
"No", Whumpee sobbed as the figure approached the cradle, "no", Whumpee's voice cracked.
"Remember, don't yell", the figure reached for the wrapped bundle. An evil, wild smirk on their face.
"M-MY BABY!", Whumpee screamed in horror as the figure gripped the bundle and yanked it up harshly.
"What the fuck", the figure yelled as they noticed the bundle was made of blankets.
The lights turned on simultaneously.
They both turned to the door to see Whumper and guards at the door.
"I don't know why, but criminals always return to the scene of the crime", Whumper frowned, "guards take him to experiment room 3, I'll be there shortly."
Whumper watched as the guards fought to arrest the figure.
"Whumpee, is this the one?", Whumper came in closer.
Whumpee nodded tearfully, "m-my baby?"
"I'm sorry for scaring you, I made a switch a while ago. Your baby is with a nurse in the next room", Whumper sighed, "I had a feeling they might attempt to do something. I figured the baby would be the first victim, so I switched them."
Whumper turned and watched the guards lift the person up.
"You make me sick", Whumper frowned, "you will be taking Whumpee's place as a lab rat. It will be your fatherly duty to provide your child with a mother who is free from responsibility. Whumpee will be able to focus on raising the little one. I already know your first experiment. I'm curious how castration feels for men. I've never done it on a person before, so I'm very excited to try."
"What?", they yelled.
"Experiment room 3. I'll be there shortly", Whumper smiled evilly, "don't bother with calling for anesthesia."
Whumpee shakily took the baby from the nurse.
Whumper turned to Whumpee.
"I-I'm not in the experiment class anymore?", Whumpee looked up.
"No Whumpee, I'm going to let you move up", Whumper smiled, "I want to make it up to you. I thought this could be a start."
Whumpee wiped their eyes as they adjusted the baby to feed.
"I've been excitedly waiting to ask you today", Whumper sat down beside the bed, "have you thought about a name yet."
Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.
On the chronic pain side I am on my best days on 2.5 which is a 5.5 on the normal pain scale.
But most of the time I am on a chronic pain 5 that is 8 on the normal pain scale, so my base level is 7-8 on the normal pain scale.
I generally hate the normal pain scale as it doesn't measure chronic pain correctly, and when doctors don't believe me when ai say that my daily pain the past year has most dayse been an 8 on the normal pain scale, they look at me with disbelief, and don't think I would be able to exist so well with that level of pain, I have lived with chronic all my life I have mastered functioning fairly well on pain level 8, as my worst days are way worse.
I am not able to work, as my pain and other disability issues don't allows it as it will make me flare up and put me at risk of more pain and, comas and dieing, which I would like not to.
₊˚⊹ ㅤa collection of character analysis/headcanon questions to learn more about your character and your partners'! writing/headcanon prompts requested by anonymous. feel free to edit these as you see fit.
[ 🖐️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat do their hands feel like: soft, calloused, trembling ?
[ ☂️ ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they crave touch or fear it ?
[ 🎐 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they have a sound, like a song or voice, that they associate with peace ?
[ 🕊️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhen did they feel the safest ?
[ 💤 ]ㅤ.ㅤhow do they sleep ? curled up, sprawled, holding onto something ?
[ 🦇 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is a fear they never talk about ?
[ 🔒 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is a secret they’ve sworn never to tell ?
[ 🪢 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhen was the last time they broke a promise ?
[ 🫳 ]ㅤ.ㅤwho do they feel they owe, but never paid back ?
[ 💼 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat do they always carry with them ?
[ 🧨 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat’s the quickest way to set them off, even if they hide it well ?
[ ⛓️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat does guilt feel like to them ?
[ 💢 ]ㅤ.ㅤwho have they never forgiven and never will ?
[ 🩸 ]ㅤ.ㅤis there something or someone that, if lost, would break them ?
[ 🌧️ ]ㅤ.ㅤis there a pain they refuse to heal from ?
[ 🪞 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhen have they looked at their reflection and hated what they saw ?
[ 📿 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat superstition or ritual do they cling to ?
[ 🌊 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhen was the last time they cried ?
[ 🐾 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo animals like them instinctively ?
[ 🪶 ]ㅤ.ㅤhow do they laugh ?
[ 🫀 ]ㅤ.ㅤwho taught them what love is ? did it hurt ?
[ 💭 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they believe they’re worthy of being loved ?
[ 🎀 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is their main love language ?
[ 🔦 ]ㅤ.ㅤwho do they search for ?
[ 📜 ]ㅤ.ㅤis there a story they love sharing with others ?
[ 🌒 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they have a dream or goal they have given up on ?
[ 🕯️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat memory do they replay when they’re alone ?
[ 🌪️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat’s the one choice they regret (not) making ?
[ 🧩 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat’s a truth about themselves they refuse to admit ?
[ 🍻 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat kind of drunk are they ?
[ ✉️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat kind of letter would they write but never send ?
[ 🗡️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is a scar that they have but never talk about ?
[ 🕸️ ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they have a favourite lie they like to hear ?
[ 🪦 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat would they want on their gravestone but never admit aloud ?
[ 🎱 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat kind of future do they crave, and who’s in it ?
[ 🌀 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they have a recurring dream or nightmare ?
[ 🍃 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they feel like they belong ?
[ ⚓ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat does “home” mean to them ?
[ 🧭 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhere would they go if they could disappear tomorrow ?
you know what, fuck it be free, keep reading that bad fan fiction, keep writing that bad fanfiction, keep using y/n, keep staying up to 4 a.m reading x reader, to be cringe is too be free
(just NO a.i)
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽𝕴𝖓𝖔𝖗𝖎☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ @inoriemiko - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
