Untitled

[only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are]

Hope - Subject 17 (Part 4)

Masterlist here

Things have been hectic (as usual tbh) but I've finally finished this part up. Sorry for the wait, I hope it's worth it. Enjoy!

CWs: lab whump, noncon drugging, human experimentation noncon surgery recovery, noncon surgery (mentioned), restraints, hospital equipment, medical setting, needles, IV drip

~~~

Flynn’s mind only found rest for several hours before Hugo arrived at the cell the next day. The assistant escorted him out of the cell, Flynn limping, as they journeyed through the familiar white halls. After several turns and forks, they arrived at a door. A door that Subject 17 hadn’t seen very frequently as of late, due to the Doctor’s plan for the experiments he was running on Flynn. Hugo opened the door and ushered Flynn in wordlessly. Inside the room, two metal tables were arranged, side by side. Multiple small metal tables on wheels packed with medical equipment were placed throughout the room. 

Hugo pointed to one of the tables. “Sit down over there.”

Flynn hesitated, then walked over, his bare feet padding across the cold floor. He sat on the metal table, facing the door to the room.

 Just as Hugo moved to exit the room, Doctor Barrick appeared at the door, wearing his white lab coat.

“Hugo, bring me the other Subject.” The Doctor commanded.

With a nod, the assistant disappeared down the hallway. Doctor Barrick pulled the door shut behind him with an audible thud. 

“Subject 17, I hope you’re well-rested.” 

Flynn lowered his head and fixed his eyes on a small spot on the floor. After all, he was a test subject, not a person, and it would be wrong for him to respond, he thought sarcastically. 

“Good.” Doctor Barrick commented as he approached the subject. “Let’s begin. We have some preparation to do before we get started.” 

Flynn watched as Doctor Barrick began to rummage through equipment, adjusting the overhead lights and the filming equipment. Just then, Hugo returned to the room, accompanied by a girl in a similar plain white t-shirt and trousers to the outfit that Flynn was wearing. He guessed that she was around his age, nineteen, though she had a soft face, suggesting that it was possible that she was several years younger. She had tan skin and black curly hair that might once have been long and luscious, but would have been chopped to its current length, a few inches past her ears, by Doctor Barrick when he took her into the facility.  She, like every other subject here that Flynn had seen, had dark circles under her eyes. 

"Thank you Hugo. If you would prepare Subject 14 whilst I prepare Subject 17." Doctor Barrick instructed.

Flynn watched as Hugo asked the girl to lay down on the other table. Suddenly, he was being made to do the same by Doctor Barrick on his own table.  Doctor Barrick then turned on the recording equipment, adjusted the camera so that it captured a better angle of the room, and then began speaking.

"Thank you for joining us once again. Today I am accompanied by my assistant, as well as two subjects. We have, to my right, Subject 17, and to my left, Subject 14. Prior to today, both subjects were inducted under anesthesia, during which an incision was made in their abdomens. I injected a serum into the cavity which induced a spleen rupture, which they are now both showing symptoms of. Today's procedure will allow me to examine the effectiveness of a new serum in healing the spleen rupture. And, if all goes well with this experiment, I will be able to use it on other subjects with other wounds and injuries. But that will have to wait. So, today's procedure will see Subject 14 as our control, and Subject 17 as the experimental. Both subjects will receive an intravenous line, however, Subject 14 will receive a placebo drug, whilst Subject 17 will receive the serum. The subjects will spend a week in this room, closely observed by both cameras and medical monitoring devices. They will have meals delivered to them, and will only be allowed up to use the bathroom, which my assistant during as they will have to be removed from medical monitors, and we also wish to avoid them removing the IV. Both subjects will otherwise be restrained to the table. Now that I have clarified all that, we can begin."

Doctor Barrick arranged the tools on the tray beside Flynn. He brought the padded restraints out from under the metal table and laid them across Subject 17, strapping him down firmly to the table. On the other side of the room, Hugo was doing the same to Subject 14. Both subjects had restraints pulled across their lower stomach, shoulders, below the neck, thighs, and foreheads, which were buckled into place. Their arms were manipulated around to expose the inside of their forearms so that their wrists could be tied down, just like the last time Flynn had a procedure performed on him. Doctor Barrick stepped closer to Flynn, blocking his view of Hugo and the other subject. The doctor slipped on nitrile gloves, and then grabbed a prep pad. He opened it up, then wiped it across the skin on the inside of Flynn’s elbow. Doctor Barrick then pulled out a blue rubber band and began tying it firmly around Flynn’s upper arm.  

“We will insert the IV tubes into the veins of both Subjects, then set up the monitors, and then we can start the experiment.” The man announced as he worked. He then pressed his gloved fingers to Flynn’s skin, feeling the veins. Next, he pulled out the syringe, fitted into the IV catheter. 

Flynn bit his lip and inhaled slowly, preparing himself as Doctor Barrick brought the syringe close to his arm and began lining it up with above the crook of Flynn’s elbow. The Doctor slowly slid the needle into the skin, and Flynn’s chest seized as he felt the sharp pinch. He took another deep breath as he watched Doctor Barrick adjusted the needle slightly, and then carefully withdrew the needle, holding the catheter in place in his vein. The Doctor untied and set aside the tourniquet, picked up some tubing and screwed it into the catheter, and then attached another syringe-like piece of equipment, using it to flush the IV line. He finished with a clear adhesive patch to tape the catheter and tubing to Flynn’s arm. The man turned to address the camera once more, and Flynn could see that Hugo had just finished the same process with the other subject.

“The IVs have been inserted. We’ll now equip the subjects with some monitors. We’ll be using heart-rate monitors, blood pressure cuffs, and pulse oximeters, and use this equipment to keep an eye on the wellbeing of the subjects as they undergo the experiment.”

Within a few more minutes, both subjects were equipped with all the monitors. Each beat of Flynn and Subject 14’s hearts were being broadcasted loudly to the room, and everyone watching on the other side of the livestream. 

Doctor Barrick lifted an IV bag with a green sticker on it, filled with a clear liquid. “We will now introduce the respective solutions into their bloodstreams."

The Doctor handed the IV bag over to Hugo, who accepted it, and then attached it to the IV pump. Doctor Barrick then pulled out a second IV bag, filled with a similar liquid, though this one had a red sticker. He attached this one to Flynn's IV.

"Excellent." Doctor Barrick hovered his finger over the IV buttons, and Hugo did the same. "We can finally begin the experiment in three..  two… one. Now." 

With that, both men pressed a button on the IV beside them. Flynn looked up to see the clear liquid flowing through the tube towards the cannula in his arm. The heart rate monitor broadcasted his fear as the liquid grew closer and closer to reaching him until finally, it began to drip into the cannula. His arm was almost numbed from the cold at first, before the solution began to course through his whole body, and then he felt himself return. Each breath caused his chest to throb with harsher, more intense pain than it had before. He had almost forgotten his injury in the fear of this new experiment. 

"The subjects are now prepared. I will now be ending the livestream. I have a secondary camera that has already begun recording this experiment, and it will continue to do so for the next week while the subjects are here. I will be holding another livestream after the experiment is finished and have examined the results closely. Thank you." Doctor Barrick stepped toward the camera, hit several keys on the computer keyboard, and ended the stream. "As for the both of you.." He turned around to face Flynn and Subject 14. "You will remain in this room for a week. My assistant will enter regularly to bring you food and water, and I highly recommend you accept it. He will also be aiding you to the bathroom. You should both consider yourselves very fortunate that all you're required to do for this experiment is lay on these tables for a week."

Desperation bubbled in Flynn’s chest as Doctor Barrick made his way out of the lab, with Hugo on his heels. The door slammed shut loudly behind them. Flynn drew an unsteady breath and closed his eyes against the bright lights of the lab. 

“Wha- what’s going to happen to us?” 

Flynn’s eyes flew open to find the source of the whisper - the other subject - staring back at him. 

“I- I really don’t know. I’m sorry. I wish I did.” he replied.

The two subjects returned to silence for several moments. Flynn realised suddenly that in this cold, empty space, there was something they both would need. He had been reciting his name to himself over and over, so as to prevent himself from forgetting it. So, perhaps, by exchanging names with each other, the two subjects could help each other remember their old lives, and hold onto hope. So, he allowed his voice to pierce this silence. 

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Bree.” she offered with a small smile. 

“Flynn. Nice to meet you.”

The two subjects passed the following days mostly in silence, with only the odd small, quiet conversations to pass the time. As time went on, Bree seemed to be in more and more pain. She would clutch at her shirt, which was drenched in sweat, and breath heavily, tears dripping down her cheeks. Flynn had moments of pain too, but nowhere near as bad. After several moments, the cold liquid running into his veins from the IV would numb the pain once more. 

It felt like far, far too much time had passed when Doctor Barrick and Hugo finally returned. Bree was lying unconscious on the table, her face flushed. She seemed feverish. Hugo set up the filming equipment whilst Doctor Barrick prepared himself to face his audience. Bree came into consciousness, staring blearily up at the ceiling.

“Greetings everyone. This experiment is now over, so today I’d like to present the results.” Barrick announced.

Doctor Barrick turned to Bree, and Hugo joined him. The Doctor pulled up her shirt, revealing an incision similar to the one on Flynn’s body, though hers was still quite red and prominent, whilst Flynn’s had definitely healed more than that. 

“Like I said, Subject 14 has been given a dose of a placebo drug. As you can see, the incision has healed slightly since this experiment, though not considerably.” Doctor Barrick pulled a small torch from the pocket of his doctor’s coat and flashed it into Bree’s pupils. “Subject 14 is clearly in great duress from the pain of her injury.”

“Now, we can compare this to Subject 17, who has been undergoing treatment with the serum I designed.” The doctor and assistant both moved to Flynn’s side. The Doctor lifted Flynn’s shirt, presenting his wound. The incision was still noticeable, the skin around it pink, but the incision was fainter, less raised. “The healing has been accelerated greatly with the help of my serum. Of course, it will require more testing, but for this purpose it seems to have helped greatly. The subject will still be in some pain, but it will be nowhere near as bad as Subject 14’s. Now, the subject’s will be taken to their respective cells, and allowed to heal up further. And I hope to see you all for future experiments.”

With the livestream over, Hugo began to undo Flynn’s restraints, then remove the monitors and his IV, while Doctor Barrick did the same to Bree. Hugo helped Flynn to his feet.

“Take Subject 17 to his cell, and come back for Subject 14.” Doctor Barrick said, not looking up from the tools and equipment he was putting away.

As Flynn was escorted through the halls, he thought back to Bree. He knew that there were other people like him in this place, being held against their will. But meeting Bree, seeing the desperation he had been enduring reflected in her eyes, truly hammered home how awful this place was. He just hoped that he would get to see her again, before anything truly befell either of them. Maybe one day - if he allowed himself to hope, just for a moment - they would be free to talk to each other, somewhere far from this horrible place. Maybe.

~~~

Taglist:

@ziptiewhump @lazy8whump @blackrosesandwhump @paleassprince @bumpthumpwhump @jancameforthewhump @jaxonjekkels @inky-whump @verydeaninside @whatiswhump @aseasonwithclara @crystalquartzwhump @onthishamsterwheel

[ilovbondage]

This is my dream to one day wake up completely immobilized to one of these ideally meeting someone in a bar after a drink not realizing that it’s been drugged, I’m getting sleepy so he takes me home of course I fall asleep in the vehicle, that’s where they pounce stripping me and restraining me there’s no way out now

[louis-sj]

Prison Restraint Beds

From New Zealand. Corrections removes tie-down beds from the country's at-risk prison units. https://www.stuff.co.nz/national/111926088/corrections-removes-tiedown-beds-from-the-countrys-atrisk-prison-units

Probably Griffin Memorial Hospital, 900 E Main Street Norman, OK

July 2019 in Arizona. https://www.infosperber.ch/freiheit-recht/menschenrechte/psychisch-kranke-19-jaehrige-wird-in-us-gefaengnis-gefoltert/

U.S. Penitentiary in Thomson, Illinois. https://www.themarshallproject.org/2022/05/31/five-things-to-know-about-one-of-the-deadliest-federal-prisons

Pineapple Furniture. https://us.pineapplecontracts.com/product/bed-restraints/

2149 Avon Industrial Dr., Rochester Hills, MI 48309

[macgyvermedical]

could you describe what a sitter would be doing inside someone’s room, please?

like, would they sit right at the bedside, or be less intrusive off in a corner? would they need to constantly watch the person, or could they have their phone or a magazine, or would they be doing other work while they’re in there? and could they make conversation with the patient or is it more formal/restrained?

thank you!

A sitter is literally someone who sits and watches a patient. Where in the room they are is usually down to where it's safest for them to be.

Most often they are a nurse aide, but some hospitals have dedicated staff who only sit (usually with a fancy title like "patient companion" or something).

Sitters don't just sit with restrained patients, they can sit with any patient who needs someone there to prevent them (or someone else) from coming to harm.

Sitters are essentially a nurse aide just for that one patient (or if they work for a particularly stupid hospital system, like I did back when I was a sitter, up to 4 sitter patients at a time in the same room). Sitters may remind the patient they can't do things like pull at IVs or catheters or CPAP machines, change their bed linens if they soil themselves, turn the patient, do q15min or hourly charting (especially for patients who are in restraints), calculate intake and output, monitor their vital signs and/or alert a nurse for a specific change in status, ensure they don't choke if they throw up, re-orient the patient constantly if they are confused, prevent them from purposefully hurting themself, etc....

Sitters can definitely talk to patients and depending on hospital policy and as time allows they might be able to read, scroll, or do homework (a lot of sitters are students in my experience). Unfortunately most of the patients are asleep, really confused, frequently combative, or actively trying to hurt themselves, so to be perfectly honest it's not often that a sitter would be able to have a coherent conversation. I've remember shifts where I read a whole novel (pt asleep) and shifts where I didn't sit down for 12 hours (pt throwing things or pooping or an unfortunate combination of the two). It's really a toss up.

[serickswrites]

Rescue V

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 

Warnings: hurt/recovery, hurt/aftermath, hurt/comfort, hospital, referenced torture, referenced captivity

Caretaker woke in a darkened room. The beeps of the heart monitor and IV taped to their arm told them they were in a hospital. They made it out. But what about Whumpee?

As Caretaker started to rise from the bed, a hand pressed down on their shoulder, keeping them in the bed. “Not so fast, Caretaker,” Teammate One said warmly. 

“Teammate One. I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine. You were malnourished, dehydrated, and your wrists were infected from the restraints. You’re not fine, but you are recovering.” Teammate One kept their voice low and calm. 

That’s nothing compared to Whumpee, Caretaker found themselves thinking. “What about….what about Whumpee?” Did they make it? Did Caretaker save them in time.

Teammate One’s face was unreadable. And they didn’t answer right away. Caretaker could hear their heartbeat rise as their anxiety grew. The dread in the pit of their stomach built and built. 

Teammate One’s voice was slow, low, but clear. “Whumpee wasn’t in the same shape as you.”

Caretaker’s mouth went dry. No. NO. 

“But,” Teammate One continued slowly, “they look like they will pull through.”

Caretaker breathed a sigh of relief. Had they been standing, their knees would have given out. They were weak with relief. “Where are they?”

“The ICU. Two floors up.”

Caretaker started to rise again. They had to see. Had to touch Whumpee. “Caretaker, I don’t think–”

“I need to see them Teammate One. I need to be sure.” They were fully sitting up now. They felt shaky, but continued to try and get out of the bed. 

“Teammate Two is with them. They would call if anything changed.”

“Don’t care. Going to see them. Have to.” Caretaker swung their legs over the side of the bed and stopped. They were tangled in all the leads attached to their chest. 

As they started to pull on the leads, Teammate One put their hand over Caretaker’s. “Let me help.”

Within a few minutes, Teammate One had unhooked all of Caretaker’s leads and pulled the IV pole over so Caretaker could navigate the halls more easily. Teammate One slowly made their way with Caretaker to Whumpee’s room. They stopped just outside the door. “Before you go in, Caretaker. I should warn you.”

“Nothing to warn me about. Whumpee was dying. I thought they were dead. They looked dead. I can take it.” Caretaker pushed open the door and froze. 

Whumpee looked tiny as they lay, unmoving, in the hospital bed. Their arms had multiple bandages from failed IVs. Their face was almost completely covered by the oxygen mask that fogged with their breath. Whumpee was alive. 

Caretaker stumbled over to the bedside and collapsed in a chair. They took Whumpee’s uninjured hand in theirs and squeezed. Whumpee was alive.

“Hey, Caretaker,” Teammate Two greeted from the other side of the bed. 

As Caretaker went to respond, Whumpee’s fingers twitched in theirs. Caretaker immediately glanced at Whumpee’s face. As Whumpee’s fingers twitched again, their breath stuttered a moment, face contorting in pain. Caretaker felt their panic start to rise again. But it all calmed the moment they saw Whumpee’s eyes open. 

“Sweetheart, there you are.” Caretaker murmured softly. 

Whumpee blinked against the brightness of the room. But as their eyes opened again they searched until they found Caretaker. Whumpee blinked slowly, deliberately. 

“Whumpee, you’re safe. You’re ok. Oh thank God, you’re ok.” Caretaker rubbed circles on Whumpee’s hand. 

Whumpee weakly squeezed their hand. They coughed. “K?” Caretaker could barely hear Whumpee. It was more an exhalation of breath than a word. 

“Yeah, I’m ok. Don’t worry about me, Whumpee.”

Whumpee glared at Caretaker, but didn’t try to speak again.

“I’m fine. Mostly fine. Much more fine than you. But don’t worry about me. Rest now, sweetheart.” Caretaker smiled.

Whumpee’s eyes softened and they coughed again. They nodded and their eyes drifted closed. Caretaker would be there for every moment. Every breath, every twitch. They would be there with Whumpee every step of their recovery journey. Because Whumpee was alive. And that’s all that mattered. 

Tags: @painsthegame @whumpback-wail @bright-whump @quirkykayleetam @10000ducks-whump @peaches-and-dumbs @poeticagony @j-is-evil-28 @bookworm7543 @thelazywitchphotographer @whump7401 @elisabethrosewrites @whumpdemonium @my-whump-sideblog @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @worldofwhumpcraft @painsandconfusion @the-soup-is-burned-too  @whumptasticwhump @appleejuice @reblogwhump @whumpy-daydreams @itsawhumpderfullife4you 

[whump-a-la-mode]

Do you think you can write something along the lines of a patient either bring put under using medication restraints (like Haldol or something) for their own good- they have a meltdown, ect. And/ or slowly waking up to find they have been strapped down? Their kind but stern doctor comforts them as they wake up. It's all just a stressful and heartbreaking experience for the whumpee. They are usually fairly stoic, but now, they feel so weak and defeated. Maybe include some tears? Sorry if this is too specific!!!

I really like this idea! I didn’t intend to go towards any specific genre of whump, since you didn’t specify, but I ended up going a little in a lab whump direction. I hope that’s okay! Thank you so much for the ask, and, again, sorry these are taking ages.

CW//Medical settings, chemical restraints, restraints, sedation, non con drug use, implied lab whump, syringes

Whumpee was screaming.

That was the only thing that could be processed by anyone in the Emergency Room as the gurney was unloaded from the ambulance and rushed through a pair of swinging double doors. Before the doors could so much as swing their way closed, the patient had already been deposited upon an ICU bed.

Around them, doctors swarmed like locusts. The doctors were swarming, and Whumpee was screaming.

“Hold them down!”

“Haldol, dammit! Get me Haldol!”

“I said, hold them down!”

Yet, to the supine patient, there were no doctors. No hospital. No, as far as they were concerned, this was a laboratory in everything but name. A torture chamber in everything but name.

And such was reflected in their movements.

Upon the bed, already half-laden with various pieces of tubing and wires, Whumpee howled, thrashing their limbs about with wild abandon. To them, movement was an end goal. As long as they were moving, there was hope of escape.

As long as they were moving, the pain wasn’t quite so bad.

“Hold, hold!”

“Where in the world is that Haldol?!”

“Right here!”

Even the words could not make their way into their their mind. No, there was no sense in their mind, only the most vague knowledge of flashing colors, of bright lights, of the horrid stench of antiseptic that they knew all too well. Each time a face appeared to them from the shroud, it quickly morphed into that of their former tormentor, eliciting nothing from them but another anguished wail.

Whumpee was not expecting the pain, though perhaps they should have been. Their arm was pushed down to the bed, half a dozen hands working to stop their ceaseless writhing. First came cold, then the prick.

“There. There.”

That was when the hyperventilation began, thrashing escalating along with it. By then, beyond their knowledge, their scope of sanity, the room had been flooded by eight doctors, nurses, and orderlies, all struggling to stop their emaciated body’s struggling.

Whumpee looked like a lab rat upon that bed, blue lines sprouting from pale skin, practically begging their veins to be pierced and flooded. The thought made their tears start, sobs tearing through their chest, jutting ribs and all, as they twisted back and forth.

Yet, at a certain point, their panic reached a peak. Its crescendo ceased, and its downfall began. Slowly but surely, each of their cells was turned to sand until they were more useless and heavy than a burlap sack.

“Clear. Running the line.”

It was a series of words that they had, up to that point in their life, heard far too many times. But, now, there was nothing to be done. No pleas or threats to be howled. Instead, they only breathed heavily, watching as the long, plastic tube pierced its way into one bulging vein.

“Line in. Clear to start the drip.”

And drip it did.

Drip -

Drip -

Drip -

Out.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Whumpee laid upon the beach, their consciousness flowing in and out as the tide.

For one moment, vision gently flowed along the sands, showing them hazy views of sterile lights and clipboards and dangling tubes. Then, once more, it receded, washed away into unconsciousness. The next time that the water flooded in, the waves were higher. Alongside visions of white tiles and dancing monitor screens, there was sound. Beeping and buzzing and voices.

When the tide came in for the third time, it stayed.

This time, the first things that occupied their newly-revived senses were not the lights, the tiles, the buzzing. Instead, they were assaulted by the sights and sounds of their own breathing-- quick, shallow, barely enough to move adequate air into their lungs.

That was, until their thought process was interrupted by something far more jarring. A voice.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

It wasn’t the softest of voices, nor the kindest. Though it wasn’t sharp, it was most certainly firm. More of a bark than a yell.

Whumpee blinked, vision once more threatening to fade. The tide dragged along the shore...

But, they were awake. Wakefulness meant confusion, and confusion meant a sharp terror, gripping at their throat.

Sterile lights. White, tiled walls. The reek of antiseptic. Every hallmark of a lab, and more. In an instant, the subtle wave of consciousness turned to a flash flood as adrenaline eliminated even the most far-off hopes of returning to slumber.

And, too, the flood came with more visions. Imagery striking at them, pounding upon the inside of their skull like a mallet. Lab coats, gloved hands, the bars of a stainless steel kennel. Shimmering needles. Pliers and scalpels.

Upwards, they jerked, a desperate attempt seizing them to sit up, as though they had just been struck by a defibrillator. But, they proved quite immediately unsuccessful, a force upon their chest keeping them held firmly down.

Whumpee knew that feeling well. Even with vertigo making the lifting of their head impossible, they did not have to work hard to imagine the restraint strap, most certainly stretched taut over their chest. More panicked experimentation showed that their wrists and ankles were similarly limited.

“Stop.”

Their wide gaze, eyelids straining to open wider as their pinprick pupils shivered, shot to find the word’s source.

The lab coat sat perched upon a stool, legs curled deliberately beneath themself. There existed a firm, focused stare to those eyes. Whumpee felt as though they could not so much as breathe without being observed.

Then again, that was what the doctor was upset at them for, huh?

Well, if they were going to be in trouble, they may as well give something to be in trouble for. If these wackjob scientists thought that they were just going to sit quietly for another hellish procedure, they had another thing coming! At least they were out of their kennel, out of their cage.

“Let me up, piece of shit!” Whumpee snarled as they made another useless attempt to sit up. Of course, the restraints limited them just as well the second time.

“I don’t think I’ll be doing that.” A moment later, it was no longer simply the pressure of the strap that pressed down upon the chest. Too, a strong hand joined, pushing. “You’re staying down.”

“And what are you doing to do to me this time?”

Though there were a few moments of confusion, there was nothing reassuring about them.

“If you cooperate? What I’m going to do to you is ensure a full recovery.” The restraining hand retracted.

“Torture doesn’t usually help with that, just sayin’.” A weak smile appeared upon their face-- all they could manage.

“You’re not there anymore.” This time... this time, there was the slightest twinge of comfort to that tone. As though they were explaining a procedure. Clinically outlining the process in a way designed to minimize panic. “You’re in the hospital.”

“That hellish lab isn’t a hospital.”

“I’m well aware of that.” They didn’t sound all too pleased at being interrupted. “You’ve been removed. You were taken here in an ambulance.”

“I was-” They tensed.

“And sedated for an adverse reaction to rescue.”

“You stabbed me.”

“It was a syringe.” They countered. “Barely a poke.”

As though Whumpee hadn’t been poked enough.

“Whatever.” They at last hissed. “Let me out of this crap, if you’re so intent on rescuing me.”

“You’re already writhing about like a fish out of water. It’s for your own good.”

They clenched their hands to fists.

“What would be good would be letting me go! I don’t need your help.”

A howl of laughter.

“Yes, kid. Yes, you do.” The doctor sighed. “I’m afraid you have a very, very long road ahead of you. And if you don’t want to spend that journey under the influence of Haldol, you’d better learn to calm down.”

[louis-sj]

Just a little Velcro.  It should be easy to get out.

[louis-sj]

From: http://www.brennofurrier.com/bondage-em-lona/

Google translated captions:

Many fetishes that we can find and know, I believe that the best known and desired is the bondage.

What you reader, think of this green jumpsuit?

Are you comfortable? Yes you are.

A great rest awaits you.

And a horny night to those who like to see how your sub is very well protected and secure.

This is not my content.  I will try and give the correct credit.  If it is yours and you would like to change the credit (or have me delete it,) please let me know.

[louis-sj]

The Bicycle

The Veiligheidsbed security bed was custom built for the Dutch Department of Justice and is used in the isolation ward in several Dutch prisons. While the authorities claim it is not used anymore because of its brutal torture, every now and then stories appear that people still end up on this bed. The bed is intended as a punishment device. If an inmate runs amok, for instance by head banging, he is strapped on the bed and left for 24 hours. Every now and then his legs are loosened so blood circulation can be restored. The movement resembles cycling; hence the bed has been nicknamed ‘fiets’ (bicycle). The restraint is very severe and has been known to cause injury to the spinal column if an inmate is particularly violent in struggling against his bonds. A punishment can last for up to 72 hours, although it is unknown whether this duration has actually been achieved. After release from the bed the prisoner usually can’t walk for some time. The bed shown in these photos is located at my girlfriend’s house, and was purchased from the company where it was manufactured. As you can imagine, strapping a patient down to the bed is a lengthy process because the straps are held by bars that need to be screwed tight to the frame. Once secured however, the straps are impossible to pull loose. The canvas breast plate holds the victim tight against the waterproof mattress. The subject lies on an absorbent pad to prevent urine spill. Every hour or so the subject is checked, and fed if needed. (Text courtesy of Tjerk.) 

Did you notice the double door on the isolation cell?

See Tjerk’s page for more details and pictures: https://rien.smmedical.eu/fiets/fiets.html

Thanks to Serious Images  http://seriousimages.com/ for some of the pictures.

[schizopositivity]

what to expect when being admitted to a psych ward (this is from my own personal experiences of being admitted to a mixed involuntary/voluntary facility and a valuntary facility, both for adults, both holding people of all genders):

•when being admitted they are going to ask you a lot of personal questions (mental health history, drug use, triggers, etc), sadly you will have to get used to talking to strangers during your stay

• when they tell you the name of the facility try to remember it, you might be asked where you are later to check your awareness

•they will take your picture for the records

•they will confiscate your phone (this is to ensure that you cant take pictures of other patients)

•they will confiscate all other belongings you have on you and keep them until you are discharged

•they will confiscate your clothes and shoes and have you change into scrubs and the famous grippy socks

•you might be strip searched to ensure you arent hiding anything and to take note of any distingushing birthmarks, scars, tattoos, etc (in my experience this was done by someone who alligned with my sex assigned at birth)

• you will probably have a physical medical exam or just talk to a dr about you medical history and what accomidations or meds you may need during your stay, you may be subjected to blood and/or urine tests

•the doors will be locked and you wont be able to walk out anytime (even in voluntary you have to go through the discharge process before leaving)

•if you use nicotine, depending on the place they will either provide you with nicotine patches/gum or allow you to have cigarette smoke breaks (you have to provide your own cigarettes or have visotors bring them to you and they dont allow vapes because they cant monitor what is in them)

•obviously no recreational drugs or alcohol is allowed

•the place itself will feel bland and clinical (think hospital but devoid of anything you could hurt yourself with)

•you will probably have your vitals checked everyday like compression arm cuff, heartbeat finger monitor and temperature taken

•you might have to wear a face mask at all times in the facility

•if you have a wristband from a hospital you can ask staff to cut it off for you

•you may or may not be roomed with other people (i was roomed with a female since i am afab nonbinary, idk how they room binary trans people)

•the bathrooms will either have a curtain or a door you cant lock (this is for your safety)

•depending on the place and your risk, you will be monitered by staff (in the mixed facility they had to physically see me every 15 minutes, just come into the room and check off a clipboard)

•there will be a front desk that is staffed at all times, feel free to approach and ask for things, ask questions or even ask if they want to play board games with you

•there will be a schedule for meal times and activities, it will be the same every day

•the food will be cafeteria food, think hospital or school cafeteria or possibly worse, they will already be aware of any medical dietary needs of yours but from what ive witnessed they do not do the same for religous or personal dietary needs (like a friend i made in the ward asked if the food was hallal, the staff didnt know but encouraged her to eat it anyway) they will also let you opt out of the prepared meal for something like a sandwich or snacks

•they will also have snack times in addision to the meals, but if at any point you are hungry, ask staff and you might get an extra snack or sandwich

•there might be coffee, it will probably be decaf, and the hours they serve it might be limited

•there might be patients who scream, cry, swear or have psychotic breaks

•there might be patients who are detoxing that might gag, puke or cough repeatedly

•there might be patients with visible self harm/suicide attempt wounds or scars

•there might be patients who are violent and/or sex offenders (the staff should keep you safe, but a patient hurting you is a possibility)

•if you have an outburst or hurt yourself or others, you might be physically handled by staff, given sedatives agaisnt your will, placed in solitary confinement or all three (this should only be done when nessasary to keep you or others safe, if the staff do this without reason or otherwise abuse you, you should report it to police when you have the chance)

•if you cry you will probably be left alone, staff might ask if you want to talk to them

•there will be cameras inside the facility but not in bathrooms, and depending on the place not in bedrooms either (this is for safety, so in the event of abuse there will be proof, i witnessed a patient to patient assault in the ward and the police used the footage to convict the perpatrator)

•there will be landline phones you can use, there may be limited phone hours, and they may limit your time on the phone, the phones are placed by the front desk so staff will be able to listen in on your conversations, they will let you write down phone numbers while you still have your phone during intake so that you can have the numbers later when making phonecalls (in my experience the time limit depends on the staff thats around so some will let you talk as long as you like)

•the phones you use will not allow you to call 911, if you are having a medical emergency you should inform the staff if possible (they will treat you or take you to a hospital if nessasary), if you need to report a crime you should ask the staff to call the police or otherwise file the police report after discharge

•there will be communial TVs with limited hours, you will need to ask the staff to operate the remote (one ward only had cable and the other one only had DVDs and us patients took turns choosing the movie)

•there will be daily group therapy, depending on the place it could be manditory (in the voluntary ward i asked why i hadnt seen any group therapy like the schedule said, and they said no one was asking to go, so i asked and i was the only person in the group therapy lol)

•they might have activities like yoga, art therapy, craft time, music time or other things (if you see it in the schedule you can ask them to tell you when its happening)

•there might be outside time in a fenced off area or there might be no outside time at all (this is for safety)

•the windows might be frosted, tinted or have a dotted film over them (this is for privacy)

•there will probably be activities that you can always access like coloring pages with crayons and/or colored pencils, puzzles, board games and paperback books

•you will get your clothes you came in back probably the next day, they might wash it

•visitors can bring you clothes but it has to have no strings (like drawstrings or shoelaces) no metal bits, and no graphic or offensive prints on clothes

•jewlery is not allowed unless its a piercing

•visitors can bring you books as long as its paperback, and journals as long as it doesnt have a metal spine, and other safe activities like paint by sticker books

•visitors cant bring blankets or towells, that will be provided by the facility

•anything visitors bring has to be checked by staff before they can give it to you

•you might not be able to recieve calls unless the person has an access code that they will provide for you, so you have to call first

•there can be meetings with visitors, it could be limited to certain days of the week or certain hours, your visitors may be subjected to a search, and your visiting time might be monitored by staff

•you will be given your psych meds as normally perscribed, they may have you open your mouth and lift your tounge after you take them to show that you actually swallowed them, you might be able to meet with a perscriber to get a med change

•you will probably have short daily private appointments with a counselor, this wont be as in depth as therapy but rather a way to check your progress, it could even just be like "on a scale form 1-10 how depressed are you?"

•you can still have any phone/telehealth appointments you already had planned, just inform staff and you might be put in a private room with a computer

•ask staff for things! like deoderant, toothbrush, toothpaste, blank paper, to print out an image of something that can cheer you up, honestly anything just ask

•ask staff if you want to shave, clip your nails, or apply makeup, you will probably have to do it in front of staff at the front desk

•for showers ask staff for towells, shampoo, conditioner and maybe body wash (the shower usually has a soap despensor in it) the shampoo and stuff will come in little cups, also if you can, ask for extra towells to place on the floor for when you get out

•your shower time might be limited, the shower probably wont get very hot (to avoid people burning themselves) and it will probably be a timed button that sprays water for 30 seconds at a time so youll have to keep pressing it to shower long enough

•the bed will probably not be very comfy, like thin foam matresses and scratchy sheets

•you can ask the staff for over-the-counter meds like ibuprofen, laxatives, sleeping pills, etc

•the days will feel long, try to keep yourself occupied with activities and phonecalls

•i encourage you to talk to the other patients! you can connect and relate to people in simular situations, older mentally ill people with experience, and just to make friends while youre there (ive even witnessed two men agree to have a romantic relationship only during their time in the ward, they called eachother "hospital boyfriends")

•i encourage you to journal about your experience and feelings while youre there

•how long youll be there really depends on your situation, although both times ive gone they said the usual stay was one week or less and thats how long i stayed both times

•they may require you to do certain things before you are allowed to discharge like get a med change, improve your mood, set up appointments with drs or counselors in the future, get stabalized on meds or show recovery in other ways

•even if you are voluntary, you will need to go through the discharge process before leaving like signing paperwork, collecting your belongings, setting up a ride to leave, and confirming that you have somewhere to go (ive witnessed staff hire taxis, and help people apply and get into shelters)

i dont say all this to scare you or keep you from volunteering yourself into a psych ward, just to warn you about things so that you dont have to be shocked by a totally new environment all at once like i was

everyones experience in psych wards is different, every place is different, i didnt cover psych wards for people under age 18, or gendered wards, or addiction recovery wards or otherwise specialized wards because i have no experience there

but despite the bad parts, my time in psych wards has seriously helped me, it kept me safe from myself when nothing else could, literally saving my life twice, it gave me very important med changes, and it gave me experience with other mentally ill people, like the older woman who told me "as mentally ill people we cant always trust our insticts" and other advice that has helped me

it may feel bleak, it may make you feel trapped, you may feel like you dont belong there, but the bottom line is this is place meant to help you, even if just in the most basic form of keeping you safe, housed, fed and properly medicated

and remember youre still a human, you still have rights, if anything unjust happens to you there you have every right to report it to the police

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Chest Filled With Diamonds And Gold - Jonathan Crane (Gotham) X Female (Gordan) Reader

Title: Chest Filled With Diamonds And Gold

Jonathan Crane (Gotham) X Female (Gordan) Reader

Additional Characters: Jim Gordan, a Doctor (Mentioned), Jonny's Father (Mentioned)

Requested

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

WC: 1,447

Warnings: Mentions of fear toxin, brief mentions of abuse, brief mentions of being restrained, hospitals, scarecrows, and fear

Everyday after school, Y/N Gordan would be picked up by her father, Jim Gordan, and head to the police station until he was finished with work. Jim never really liked the idea of leaving his daughter, alone, in their home in Gotham. Ever since the break-in, he’s been very overprotective.

But, today was different, they were going to the hospital.

Once they were there, Jim and his daughter walked into a hallway with a doctor. Who led them to a window, viewing a teenage boy, somewhat around her age, tugging against the restraints that tied him to his bed.

He had bright blue eyes, brown, chin-length hair, and seemed to be terrified. Y/N looked at him with pity. He looked terrified. but, behind his terror, Y/N saw how cute the teen was. He looked like he was in so much pain, so much turmoil. Maybe she could help him, talk to him. Y/N looked at her father, who was talking with the doctor about the boy’s condition. The doctor said that the other policeman found him in a cornfield, screaming.

“Dad? Could I go talk to him?” She asked, looking at the boy and turning back to her father.

Jim turned towards her, giving a small, hesitent nod.

“Just don't freak him out, okay? We don't know if he is dangerous or not.” Jim answered.

Y/N nodded and headed out of the hall and to the door. She was hesitant, but her father was watching if anything bad happened.

Y/N opened the door softly, closing it behind her, trying not to make any sudden sounds to freak him out more than he already was. The boy turned to Y/N, his eyes widening, and his thrashing and means of trying to escape the restraints stopped. Y/N thought it was odd, but didn't think of it any further. She slowly walked over and pulled a chair in the corner of the room over to the side of the bed. She softly smiled at the teen and gave a small wave.

“They are gone.” The boy spoke, his voice was scratchy.

“Who?” Y/N asked, tilting her head to one side, confused.

Jonathan looked around the room, fear, and confusion in his eyes. Y/N looked with him too, seeing nothing. He turned back to her.

“The Scarecrows.” He spoke, his voice full of confusion and wonder.

She looked around confused.

“Oh.”

She thought hard, this guy might have schizophrenia. It is possible since he sees things that she could not. She looked confused but understood.

“Why do you see scarecrows?” She asked, her voice soft as silk.

He looked around, afraid, and turned back to her.

“My father made this toxin. I was his test subject, and he used it on me.” He spoke, clearing his throat.

“Have you told anyone?” Y/N asked, now very worried about him.

He shook his head.

“No one would believe me, they’ll think I’m crazy.” He spoke, shaking his head again.

“I don't think you are crazy.” She spoke softly.

There was silence for a moment, of them both just staring at each other. Something was there, connecting them. Y/N felt it the moment she saw him through the window to his room.

“What's your name?” She asked, breaking the silence.

“Jonathan Crane.”

He seemed to be getting calmer, his voice wasn't shaking anymore.

Y/N smiled.

“My name is Y/N Gordan, Officer Jim Gordan’s daughter." She said as she shrugged.

“He was sent to see you, he's talking to the doctor now, and let me come talk to you.” Y/N explained.

Jonathan nodded.

“So, do you always see the scarecrows?” She asked, clasping her hands in front of her.

Jonathan stays quietly for a moment.

“When you walked in, the scarecrow went away.” Then he continued.

“But, when you came in, they all went away. When other people come in, I still see them.”

He spoke, confused, tilting his head to the side.

Y/N tilted her head too, confused as well, but smiled nonetheless.

She giggled, “Well, I guess Scarecrows are afraid of me.” She spoke with a smile.

Jonathan gave a small smile, a tiny laugh fell out of his mouth.

In all honesty, when she walked in, Jonathan couldn't believe his eyes. Why would a girl, a gorgeous girl at that, come and see him? She had this glow about her, making his fear disappear. She was like an angel, sent down to keep his demons away.

Y/N jumped suddenly when the door opened and her father entered.

“You two doing okay?” He asked.

Y/N turned to Jonathan and then to her father.

“I think we are alright, thanks, Dad." She spoke, rubbing the back of her neck.

He stood quietly for a moment.

"That's good then, Y/N. How about you go and sit and do your homework?" He spoke, not really giving her a choice in the matter.

She nodded and stood up.

“I am going to head to the sofa over there, okay?” She said to Jonathan, softly taking his hand.

Jonathan smiled and gently squeezed her hand in his, before letting go.

Y/N smiled and walked to the sofa and got out her homework from her bag, and began working, while her dad worked with Jonathan. Sometime later on, Jim got up and said he was going to the restroom, leaving Y/N and Jonathan.

Jonathan turned to Y/N, who was working on writing her paper. She looked up, feeling eyes on her. Seeing Jonathan, she smiled and went back to work, moving a piece of hair from her face. Jonathan smiled, happy that he found a sort of cure for his dilemma. He just wished that she could stay with him. He hopes she would never leave. But, she would and she will.

And they will come back.

“Y/N…” He spoke up, voice quiet.

Y/N looked up from her paper with a smile.

“Yeah?” She asked, setting down her pencil.

“Thank you. For making them go away.” He spoke, his face feeling warm.

Even though that was not what he wanted to say. He knew it was too soon to say that he had a small crush in her. He wouldn't do that anyway, he was too awkward and shy. But, Jonathan felt like he knew so much about her. As crazy as it sounded, it felt like love at first sight when she walked through the door.

“Hey, Jonathan?”

Jonathan snapped out of his daze, still looking at Y/N.

She blushed and smirked, “You're blushing.” She spoke, before going back to work.

Jonathan blushed harder, a bright red glow spread across his face. Jim came back and sat back into the chair by the bed. He looked at Jonathan and then to his daughter, seeing their blushing faces and their small smiles. Jim didn't like the looks on their faces. He didn't like it one bit. Jim cleared his throat, causing Jonathan to turn to him. And, Jim began the questioning again. By the end of the questioning, Jim packed his bag, placing his notes and pen away. He stood, turning to his daughter, who was packing her papers away.

“Time to go, hun.” He said, voice tired after a long day.

Y/N nodded, throwing her backpack onto her back.

"I'll be outside. I need to speak with the doctor." Jim said before walking out of the hospital room.

Y/N smiled and walked to Jonathan's bed. She placed her hand on top of his. He turned his hand up and intertwined his fingers with hers. He didn't want her to go. She smiled softly and blushed, looking between Jonathan and their hands.

“Listen, I am going to try and come back as much as I can to see you. Okay?” She said, to which Jonathan smiled softly and nodded.

“I’d like that.”

Y/N nodded and let go of his hand softly, before pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. She then turned and headed to the door, she looked back at the blushing brunette and waved. Before she left, she whispered to him.

“I believe in you. You can defeat them.” Then she left.

The teen smiled at the door she exited. He then looked around the room, seeing a normal hospital room, no scarecrows coming to get him. He knew that this time was special, but he knew they would come back eventually, they always do.

Jonathan sighed. He knew that he would get better with her help. But, for now, he had to get through a few days without her.

[crazynancy-deactivated20230424]

Someday. My treatment for delete my bad behavior and bad things in my mind

[of-wounds-and-woes]

Glorious scene from the German series “You are Wanted”, SE01E06..

The way he focuses against all the drugs to squeeze her hand :(

Thanks @whumpappreciation for reminding me about this! Argh I can’t recall the name of the fellow whumper who recommended this initially! Thank you whoever you are!

[only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are]

Welcome to the Lab - Operation Valkyrie (Part 2)

MASTERLIST - PART 1

It's here!! I know female whumpees aren't everyone's cup of tea but personally I much prefer writing from a female point of view - and I don't write noncon so it doesn't make any difference for me. But given it is a squick for a lot of people, I won't be tagging anyone in this anymore until you ask me to add you to my taglist so I know I'm not making you uncomfortable! Thanks for the support on this series so far.

CWs: female whumpees, medical equipment, IVs, capture, needles, laser torture, mention of kidnapping and drugging

~~~

The moment their charge fell unconscious, the people in the van acted. Four of them went to the front of the van and slid up the secret door to reveal a large, coffin-like object with a see-through lid. They lifted the lid up, and those around the gurney lifted untied Valkyrie and disconnected the tube from the IV pole, lifted her up and carried her over to the coffin object, where they placed the unconscious young woman inside it. The IV in her arm was then connected to a small hole in the inside side of the box. A button beside the hole was pressed, and then clear liquid began to flow through the IV into Valkyrie’s veins. An oxygen mask was placed over her mouth and nose, the tubing was attached to a larger hole in the box, and then the supplementary oxygen was supplied to Valkyrie’s lungs. Finally, the lid of the box was closed, the people in the van piled into the small secret part of the van, and the secret door slid down to the floor, closing them and their capture inside. They were now ready to begin their journey.

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

Valkyrie slowly blinked into consciousness. The sky was blindingly white. She groaned softly; she must have left her window open before she went to bed. She started to sit up, but clutched her forehead as movement sent pain stabbing through her skull. Her vision swam. Slowly, she sat up and swung her legs over to the side, where she massaged her temples for a moment, and finally pulled herself to her feet. What she saw around her nearly made her knees buckle. She wasn't in her bedroom. She wasn't even in a place she'd ever seen before. She was in a strange room, with sleek white floors and walls, and the only furniture was a white, prison-style toilet, a white sink, a white shower, and the white bed she had slept on. The bed itself was comprised of a lumpy mattress, with only a mattress cover and a thin white sheet on top. It didn’t look very much like a hospital - if that was what it was. Valkyrie look down at herself to find that she was wearing a hospital gown and metal cuffs around each of her wrists and ankles, with a black screen that ran across each of them. It seemed that they were a strange mix of a smartwatch and handcuffs. If this was a hospital, it certainly wasn’t a typical public hospital - most hospitals didn’t put their patients in handcuffs, even if these ‘handcuffs’ didn’t connect to each other. She drew a shaky breath, then stepped over to the reinforced steel door that stood on the opposite wall. Pushing all of her body weight up against the door revealed that it was locked. Why on Earth would I be locked in a hospital room? Valkyrie wondered. A loud slam from beyond the room pulled her from her thoughts. She backed herself into the corner of the room, as far away from the door as she could possibly manage, with her hands grasping the sleek walls as if she could somehow pull them towards her to shield herself from her present reality. Fear crawled in her stomach like maggots as footsteps began thudding down the hall, getting closer and closer to her room. A split second later, the door swung open. Two figures in black guard uniforms burst into the room and headed straight towards Val. Before she could even react, they grabbed her by the arms and began dragging her towards the door. They guided her outside, where they lifted her up onto a gurney parked in the hallway outside the room. She tried to fight them off, but exhaustion and confusion made her slow to react, and the guards were too strong. They pulled straps up from underneath the gurney, and wrapped them around her, restraining her to it. 

“Wait! Stop!” Valkyrie cried. “Let me go, what are you doing? Where am I?!” 

She had no idea who these people were, or where she was, or what was happening. She might be willing to comply, if only someone would give her some answers. But the guards didn’t say a word, they just began wheeling the gurney down the hallway. The hall was just as bright and void of darkness and colour as Valkyrie’s room had been. Fluorescent light after fluorescent light passed by overhead as she was wheeled down the hall. She quickly grew too tired to keep struggling and lay limp in the restraints. They reached an elevator, which the guards wheeled her into before joining her. The elevator doors slid shut, and a few seconds later, they opened again into an almost identical hallway. Valkyrie was wheeled down the hallway and around the corner before it stopped in front of a set of heavy double metal doors. The doors were pushed open, and Valkyrie was wheeled inside. The room she was placed in held a plethora of cold white laboratory equipment. A large, thinly padded white table appeared to be suspended from the ceiling in the centre of the room, which ran through the centre of a large white ring structure, which was then attached to various white appendages, all of which were angled towards the table. The room was brightly lit with cool white lights, and filled with screens displaying medical information, and counters that held various tools and devices. All around the table, five people stood, wearing white lab coats over their blue scrubs. The two guards placed Val’s gurney beside the metal table and proceeded to remove the restraints holding her down. She didn’t have a chance to resist before she was lifted up onto the table. The guards swiftly pinned her down, causing her heart to pound harder in her chest. One of the scientists stepped forward, holding a small remote in their hand. They pressed a button, and Valkyrie’s wrists and ankles were tugged down harshly by an invincible force. It took a second for her to realise, but the cuffs she was wearing had been magnetised to the table. The magnets were strong, too strong for her to pull her wrists away. The other scientists pulled out large straps from underneath the table, and quickly tied the rest of her body down with extra restraints. When the scientists and guards pulled back less than five minutes later, she was helplessly immobile. She was pinned in place at her wrists, upper arms, upper chest, calves, ankles, neck and forehead. She let out a whimper.

“Hush.” said one of the scientists, stepping forward. She had mid-length dark brown hair, swept back from her face into a low ponytail, with hard grey-green eyes that glinted with something that made Valkyrie’s blood run cold. 

“Please, I - just tell me why I’m here. Please don’t hurt me.” Valkyrie begged as tears began to form in the corners of her eyes.

“You are at the National Pet Research Organisation. I’m sure you’ve heard of our sibling organisation, Human Pet Providers or HPP? Well, you’ve been selected for a program at NPRO, where we test devices, serums and methods for both the training and daily household use on pets.” The woman explained.

Valkyrie had heard of HHP before, but she’d mostly been able to exist in peaceful ignorance of their growing presence, until now.  “B-but…  You kidnapped me!” She realised suddenly. “You had that person kidnap me, and then you killed him, just so you could take me! You won’t get away with that.”

“Oh, but we don’t need to. HPP’s processes were regarded as cruel at first, yes, but they now have the government’s full support. Therefore, so do we at NPRO. We can do whatever we like with you.” The scientist smirked.

Fear pooled in Valkyrie’s stomach. Before she could respond, another scientist stepped forward.

“Right, shall we get started now, Doctor Clarke?” he asked the scientist beside him.

The woman’s face split into a wide grin. “Yes, we shall.”

The guards left the room, letting the heavy metal doors slam shut behind them. The scientists put on medical-grade face masks and snapped on nitrile gloves, making them appear more like emotionless, clinical monsters than people. They swarmed around Valkyrie like a pack of hungry wolves. First, they manoeuvred the metal arms above the table so that they pointed down at her. Each arm seemed to have a different purpose, one resembled a camera; it blinked and swivelled around several times, the next one was an X-ray machine, and the final one was some other kind of scanner. She stayed still and silent the entire time, too afraid of what they would do to her if she resisted, but she allowed her mind to spiral into thoughts of escape. I could break free when they untie me. No, there’s too many of them…

Valkyrie watched as the scientists put the metal arms above her back in their places. The figures then began setting out sharp, vicious-looking tools, each more terrifying than the last. Doctor Clarke picked up a small pair of scissors, and Valkyrie instantly tried to pull away, despite the fact that she knew it was useless because of the restraints. The woman was easily able to hold Valkyrie still as she snipped a lock from Valkyrie’s hair, then trimmed one of her fingernails. Both samples were placed in bags and labelled. The other scientists busied themselves with putting the samples away and preparing other tools and equipment. 

Doctor Clarke picked up an empty syringe with tubing attached to it from the tray beside her and held the sharp-tipped instrument up to the fluorescent light. “Doctor James, tourniquet please.” 

The man whom Doctor Clarke had spoken to picked up the small blue rubber strip and neatly tied it around Valkyrie’s upper arm. Doctor Clarke held the syringe close to Valkyrie’s arm and began prodding the skin, trying to find a vein. 

“No, no, stop, what are you doing?! Don’t come near me with that!” Valkyrie cried out. She had been too scared to protest until now, but the needle was too much for her to handle.

The corners of Doctor Clarke’s mouth turned down. “We’re going to need a gag, Doctor James. The Subject’s consistent whining is driving me mad. I need it to be quiet.”

“Right away, Doctor Clarke.” Doctor James replied as he stepped away from the table.

“Subject?! It?! No, this is wrong, you can’t do this to me! Let me GO!” Valkyrie screamed, thrashing against her restraints with renewed vigour. She could feel the adrenaline rushing through her. “You can’t! You can’t keep me here for your sick little experiments!”

Doctor James returned, clutching in his hand, a black leather contraption which he passed to Doctor Clarke. 

“Please don’t..” Valkyrie gasped, her throat hoarse from screaming. 

The scientists swarmed around her, grabbing her thrashing limbs and pinning them down to the frigid table. Gloved hands held her head in place and forced open her mouth, and the bit of the gag was shoved inside. They closed her mouth and strapped the gag around her head, before stepping back. Doctor Clarke moved forward with the syringe. Valkyrie lay helpless, restrained to the table, tears cascading down her face around the gag that muffled her screams. 

“I’m afraid you’ll find I very much can do this, and I will. Nobody is going to stop me. In fact, they’ll thank me, because this is valuable scientific research. Welcome to your new life, Subject 0492.”

Valkyrie was forced to accept her fate. She stayed still as the scientists drew her blood, then proceeded to examine her and prod her all over with their gloved hands and metal tools.  Tears continued to pool in her eyes, and occasionally she let out a muffled sob from beneath the gag. Finally, she thought they had finished. But she was wrong. The intimidating woman named Dr Clarke adjusted the final one of the robot arm-like structures above the bed so that it was angled down at the inside of Valkyrie’s arm. When Dr Clarke turned the machine on, a beam of blue light shone from it directly onto Valkyrie’s skin. Instantly, the pain was there. It felt like her skin was on fire. And that’s when she realised it was a laser. The scream that was suppressed by the gag turned into an animalistic grunt of pain. The smell of her own burning flesh filled her nostrils, and she had to swallow the bile that was creeping up her throat to avoid choking on the resurfacing contents of her stomach. She squirmed uselessly in her restraints, begging silently to get away from the pain. Her vision was blurring, she could see white, shapeless figures passing in front of her field of view. She desperately tried to reach out to someone, she wasn’t even sure who, for help, but she belatedly realised she was still strapped down to the table.  Another wave of pain hit her arm and rose over her like a strong current. She gave in and let the fiery agony drag her under, into the darkness. 

~~~

PART 3

Taglist: please let me know if you would like to be tagged!

@whumppsychology

[lovetohate001]

I was thinking about an imagine with 001 that starts with smut and the next day 002 tells dr. Brenner that reader and 001 are secretly dating and the reader says it's her fault. So she gets tortured and shit. Then Brenner decides to let her go and Peter comforts her after and takes care of her PLEASE I LOVE YOUR WRITING!!!!

Never Let You Go

Peter Ballard x Female!Reader | ANGST, R-Rated sexual content

CW: spoilers for season 4, shock treatment scene

word count: 1.4k

© lovetohate001, 2022. reposting/translating is not allowed.

He was never harsh. And he was never cruel. Whatever he had done to end up here was something you would never fully understand. Because how could someone so gentle and so beautiful possibly have been a monster, when he was so gently touching the parts of you that you weren’t even aware of.

“I need you to use your words,” he whispered softly into your ear, his breath against your neck sending a wave of desire through you.

 “Please…” you sighed. “Please touch me.”

“Like this?” he circled your entrance with his index and middle finger, putting the lightest of pressure there. And he was almost-so close to pushing in. 

You whined when he pulled back again and met your gaze. 

“You look so beautiful like that,” he marvelled, his eyes sweeping over your body underneath him. “And it’s all for me.”

You held back a yelp as he pushed his fingers into you slowly, and softly. His eyes never left yours, his kiss-swollen lips parted as he watched what he could do to you, what his fingers did to that pretty face of yours, furrowing your brows and squeezing your eyes oh so tightly in pleasure.

Nights like these weren’t uncommon for the two of you. As orderlies in the Rainbow Room, the two of you spent large amounts of time together, and while you had established a beautiful friendship, the two of you grew older, and feelings blossomed into something a little bit more. 

This night was special, though. Peter wanted you to escape. He wanted the two of you to have a life outside of this lab where you both could be more than this. But he needed a plan. And he needed 011 to do it. 

Your nails dug into his back harshly as he left small bites down your neck, his hands still continuing their ministrations, his fingers gliding in and out of you perfectly, the other at your breast, kneading it softly. Breaths coming out in small gasps, your body went lax as warmth spread throughout you, Peter holding you close and peppering kisses across your face, muttering hushed words of praise.

 “I love you so much,” you finally said, your breath caught and your eyes drooping with sleep. 

“Sleep, my love.” He held you close and curled up next to you on the small bed.

You’d never felt safer in your life in a place that was crueller than the world outside. 

The next morning was just as mundane as all the others before. Breakfast. Training. The Rainbow Room. Break. Training. Lunch. Academic Tests. Training. Rest. Dinner. What shocked you most was when Doctor Brenner approached you personally on the way to the dinner hall after your shift was over, his face grim and his frown etched into the crease between his brows. 

“Please, come with me, there are some things we need to discuss in a more private setting.”

You did not like the sound of that. You trailed behind Brenner down the hallway, to his office on the other end. The smell of books and polished wood hit you as he opened the door and guided you in. 002 sat in one of the two chairs facing Brenner’s desk. His grey eyes shot up to meet yours quickly before going back to the ground. He threw a cocky smirk your way while Brenner’s closed the door.

 “As you may know, Y/N, we have strict rules regarding fellow employees and test subjects at this facility,” Brenner started. “And with this in mind, you can confirm that you are very aware of the consequences if you are caught compromising these rules?”

“Yes, I am aware,” you answered, your gaze unwavering as you made direct eye contact with the doctor. 

You could not under any circumstances let him see through your façade. Your loyalty and love for Peter ran deeper than that. Brenner couldn’t scare you into admitting a single damned thing. He’d have to kill you.

“The you are also aware that you have compromised these rules already,” Brenner said coolly, tilting his head 002’s way. “002 came to me this morning to report an incident he came across last night on his way back from the infirmary after his training. He states that you and Peter Ballard were in a rather compromising position regarding your place in this facility.”

You sat up a little straighter in your seat before replying, “I have no recollecting of such happenings, Doctor.”

“Well…it seems it is 002’s words against yours,” Brenner sighed. “It seems like we will have to take disciplinary action either way, since we have no way of confirming or denying these actions.”

“Cameras aren’t allowed in anyone’s rooms, as you clarified in our contracts, Doctor Brenner,” you confirmed, nodding your head in respect. Your sweet words tasted bitter on your tongue.

“They were together!” 002’s outburst made you and Doctor Brenner start. “I saw him go into her room. She’s lying!”

You looked at 002 with the best look of disbelief you could muster. This child. For all he was worth, you wished one of the other children would put him in his place. He was arrogant. And selfish.

 “I trust that you aren’t lying, 002,” Brenner started, his voice calm and understanding, “but I am concerned as to why Y/N has decided to take the other side.”

“I am not lying. That was in my contract too.”

“I trust that 002, and all the other subjects here would never lie. But you are an outsider,” Brenner explained, his eyes cold and distant. “And I know outsiders don’t have the same amount of trust and respect that these children have. But I think you know where I’m going with this by now…”

“Take her to the therapy room,” Brenner said, waving a hand to one of the other orderlies who stood by the door. 

You felt strong hands wrap around your arms and hoist you from your chair. You didn’t even fight it. If you did, he’d think you’d had something to hide. Something worth fighting for. And so, you allowed yourself to be dragged through the hallway.

 You cast your eyes down to the floor when they strapped you into the chair. The hum of electricity filled your ears. an orderly placed a cap over your head. Stuck wires to your temples. Tied your hands to the armrests. A metal taste filled your mouth. You’d bitten your tongue when they’d let the current out, to run through your body, through your skull, your arms, your torso. If it weren’t for the straps, you’d have slid down onto the floor. 

Your fingertips buzzed and your toes prickled with what felt like pins and needles. They asked you the same question every time: have you had any unprofessional relations with Peter Ballard? And every time you shook your head, before another current was sent through you, cutting into your bones and spiking your heart rate.

The dial went up, up, up, and so your consciousness swam down, down, down, until you allowed the darkness to swallow you whole. 

“Y/N…”

It was a soft voice. A gentle voice. One you knew well, that dragged you back to the fluorescent lights of the infirmary.

 “Y/N…”A calloused hand squeezed yours, harder and harder as you came back. Urging you to stay with him.

“It’s alright. I’m here. I’m here….” Those words were whispered by your ear as you felt arms lift you into a sitting position, coaxing a glass of water into your hands.

 The sound of ice blocks clink clink clinking against glass. The water wet your dry lips and moistened your dry throat. You coughed. It stung to swallow. You couldn’t speak. Tears welled up in your eyes.

“Don’t cry my love. Don’t cry.” Gentle hands brushed your cheeks, wiping your tears away.

 “My love.” Peter hugged you tightly and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “My love, you are alright. You are here. You are alive.”

You let out a small whimper, allowing your tears to fall freely now. You thought Brenner had taken him. You’d had such horrible dreams.

“We’re getting out of here. Tomorrow,” he murmured in your ear. “011 has agreed to help me. To escape with us. Tomorrow, my love. Then this will be all over.

”You nodded and took in a shaky breath. Soon. Soon it’ll be all over. For now, you would rest.

“After tomorrow, I’m never letting you go, never letting you out of my sight again,” he said into your hair.

The world had been cruel enough. It was time he showed them what monsters they had created. Even if it meant a few deaths for their freedom. Everything had a price in life for the means of restoring balance. And he knew the cost. He knew it all. For you.

MASTERLIST

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[jordanstrophe]

Behave, 8

Masterlist

CW: Forced medical treatment, hospital whump, soft caring whumper, captivity, blood drawing, manhandling, hurt/comfort, lots of hurt/comfort 

“Arm.” Whumper gestured, waving two fingers. They were sitting on whumpees bedside hardly looking up from fiddling with a strap.

But Whumpee didn’t move a muscle. They glared with a tired sickly look.

“Come on, I’m just checking your blood pressure. I’m not torturing you.” They snapped two fingers impatiently and held their hand out. Whumpee blinked rapidly, before hesitantly placing their wrist in whumpers hand as they tightened the strap around their arm.

“You’re not usually impatient.” Whumpee mumbled uneasily. Whumper stopped midway and stared blankly, before sighing sadly. 

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