bookishb0rgid

[bookishb0rgid]

Ideas 1

Whumper who uses sensory overload or deprivation as a torture technique

Imagine the Whumpee who is touch starved and never has any skin to skin contact for months, then thrown into overload

the Whumpee with white room torture put in a simulation of high color and sounds

the Whumper who never talks while whumping and suddenly yells at Whumpee over a common mistake.

The pure fear that Whumper might actually not return after doing something Whumpee shouldn’t have.

Eating bland food for a while and then rewarded with a hot meal overflowed with seasoning. Whumpee is so hungry yet their stomach can’t digest or hold something this good down. Whumper makes it sound like lack of gratitude.

[bookishb0rgid]

Day 12 - Dehydration

Filling all @juneofdoom prompts with exactly 100 word drabbles!

Gods, he felt sick. He focused on breathing past the gag, whimpering quietly. If he threw up now, he might choke on his own vomit. He would prefer to die quicker, but not like that. Not like that not like that not like that. 

It was too hot. Too bright. His head felt like it was about to explode, and it was all he could do to squeeze his eyes shut, crying quietly at the pain in his impaled hands. He tried to swallow, but his throat was too dry, his tears long dried up. Water. He needed water. 

Please.

[bookishb0rgid]

Sleep

@medwhumpmay day 10: Emergency surgery exhaustion

Rowan stares out the window, a sobering cold rises in his chest as he admires the glow of the street lights. He blinks slowly, he knows he's tired, but he can't find it in himself to sleep.

Sleep is an odd thing in concept. It's something wildly accepted but not explained. Dreams make even littler sense. Dreams are hallucinations with strange plots or a vivid retelling of memories. They go against everything a person has ever believed in and yet they never feel the slightest bit fake in the moment.

What makes the least bit of sense about sleep are the worst kinds of dreams, nightmares. Nightmares are the reason Rowan can't sleep. Nightmares remind a person of terrifying events, they bring fear, raise heartrates, and they pull a person out of their sleep. If Rowan truly needs to be sleeping, it wasn't his conscious decisions that we're preventing his rest. His subconscious wants him awake.

So instead of shutting off his kitchen lights, Rowan stares out the window, telling himself that sleep isn't really a necessity.

[bookishb0rgid]

@medwhumpmay Day 9: Trapped under rubble Needles

"We need to draw some blood, Kade." The nurse's voice is calm, but the words still make his heart race.

He tries to quell the painful drumming in his chest, taking a moment before speaking. "Can I ask a question?" His voice is quiet, filled with hesitance.

"Of course you can," she states with an overwhelming sense of enthusiasm. She's trying to reinforce his interaction, not that it helps.

"What are you testing for?"

"Well, Kade," she says, quickly glancing at a chart, "your recent experiences make it hard for us to know what's going on in your body. You've clearly suffered from malnutrition, so we're looking at blood count, which does a lot of helpful things including gauging certain vitamin deficiencies."

"Okay," he feels hesitant, not that he's ever been given any control over how these kind of things go. He wishes he could just disappear or, more realistically, that the nurse would just get it over with.

"Is there anything in particular we need to be looking for?" she asks.

Please don't, he thinks to himself, "No."

"Which arm would you like me to use?"

Kade blinks at her, staring vacantly in confusion before extending his right arm, saying, "They always used this arm."

"Oh," she says, surprised, "have you had tests like this in the past?"

"Yes," Kade says, voice shaking as she examines his arm.

His arm twitches as her forefinger gently presses against the inside of his elbow, "Why don't we try your other arm?"

"Okay," he says, extending it for her to examine.

She speaks as she continues her examination, "Did they take tests like this often?"

Kade feels the lump in his throat swell as his heart skips a beat, "Yeah."

"Do you know why?"

His breath hitches. "No," he lies.

"Well, I will try to get this done as quickly as possible. You have good veins, it shouldn't be very difficult."

She preps his arm for the blood draw, trying to continue the conversation. He stops responding, staring intently at his arm.

"You don't have to watch."

He looks up at her, not speaking.

"You're not in trouble if you look away."

Already he feels nauseous, the sight of red running up a tube floods his vision.

He shakes the intrusive memory away, the phantom pain of it tingling in his arm.

"Okay," he finally says.

"Do you want me to tell you what I'm doing as I'm doing it?"

He shakes his head, no.

"That's alright."

He silently winces as the needle presses into his skin.

"Look at it," he remembers a voice saying, "this is an important part of scientific research."

I don't have to, he reminds himself. She said I didn't have to.

He hears a dull thud, in his mind he sees the small vials and the red liquid that fills them.

He remembers how it was then, the gauze around his arm, the way it felt when he moved his arm, how a substantial meal wasn't a sign of mercy, it was a warning.

"And we're done," she chirps. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

[bookishb0rgid]

@medwhumpmay day 8: Going into shock

Cw: blood, murder

At first, he thought someone had dropped a glass. For a moment the room falls silent.

Someone screams. He doesn't remember moving towards the floor. His heart is pounding, what is he afraid of? What's happening?

Then he sees the blood, he confusedly stares at the substance as it clings to his skin.

He's bleeding.

Almost instinctively, he moves to touch the wound, see if it's real, wincing as his fingers graze the broken skin.

He feels cold. And dizzy. His breath comes in short, intense bursts.

He's bleeding out on the floor. He's going to die.

[bookishb0rgid]

Numb

@medwhumpmay Day 7: Unresponsive

Cw: implied torture, major dissociative episode

Rowan slowly pulls himself to his knees before tumbling out of the wooden box. He lies unceremoniously on the floor, too tired to move as his limbs painfully fight to abandon their numbness.

“Very good, Rowan.” Rowan feels a part of him die as the words echo in the room.

It's not over, it's never over. Something happens in Rowan’s mind. It's as if the numbness in his limbs moves to his head, the steady stream of conscious thought he’d experienced vanishes. His cognizance fades as quickly as information is received. The exhaustion has fully taken over him and slowly he drifts into his sub-conscious. No longer responding to any external stimuli.

[bookishb0rgid]

Scientific Advancement

@medwhumpmay day 6: Doctor turned patient Unconscious

Cw: Non-consensual drugging

Follow up from Day 4's prompt

They should really oil these wheels, notes Connor Belanger silently as he pushes the cart towards the back of the building. He tries, and fails, to not distract himself as he finds fascination in the unconscious boy. He could be the first real result. He thinks to himself proudly. He's a scientific marvel. He finds himself lost in his thoughts of scientific achievement and research and the honorable position he's been put in as he pushes the boy toward the back of a large van.

Someone opens the doors of the vehicle, stepping out, "Is this 183?"

"Yes, sir."

"Do you have his file?"

"It's right here," says Connor, passing it to the man.

Of course, it's unfortunate that this is how the research has to be carried out. A small risk for the sake of modern science.

"He's young," the man comments as the boy is lifted into the van.

"Gullible," replies Connor matter-of-factly. "Needed cash for college and decided this was an easy way to get it."

"Know him well?"

"He's a talker."

"Belanger," the man says in a warning sort of tone, "you're not getting attached, are you?"

"No, sir."

"And you're aware this stays between us?"

"Of course."

"Good," he says, "I'll contact you first, make sure no one comes looking for him."

Connor nods, bringing the empty cart back into the building, proud to be a part of something far greater than himself.

[bookishb0rgid]

Stay with me

@medwhumpmay Day 5: Stay with me

Cw:gore, blood

Follow up/secondary perspective from Day 2's prompt

There is blood on Rowan's hands.

Actually, there is blood everywhere. The thought of it on his favorite button up is least of his priorities as he presses his palm into the gushing wound. He doesn't even remember calling emergencies services but the operator speaking through his phone confirms an ambulance is on the way.

"Is he responsive?" asks the voice on the other end of the phone.

The person below him stirs a little bit, "Hey, buddy, you're going to be alright, just stay with me."

"First responders will be at your location within two minutes."

The person under Rowan shifts their body, weakly attempting to pull away from him. "Hey, you're going to be okay, help is on the way," Rowan repeats, keeping pressure on the wound.

"Be not afraid," the young man beneath him responds.

"Yes," Rowan hesitates to respond, "that. There's nothing to be afraid of."

Sirens echo, the grating sound relieving to hear.

Rowan waits for permission before releasing pressure from the wound, the responsibility given to someone with far more medical knowledge. Only then does exhaustion sweep through his suddenly sore muscles as he sits, almost fully collapsing, on the undoubtedly dirty cement below him.

Blood clings to his hands, he's aware of it now. Nausea encumbers him, someone speaks to him.

He catches sentences in fragments.

"-good job, man."

"-need a statement-"

"-where were-"

"How did you-"

And suddenly he's cleaning the blood off his hands, finding the stains on the cuffs of his sleeves.

[bookishb0rgid]

A Visual Reminder

@medwhumpmay Day 1: Under Anesthesia Scars

Cw: vaguely referenced torture

Rowan freezes as his eyes catch the angry red lines in the mirror. For a moment he forgets to breath as he's reminded of something terribly unreal.

For just a moment he thinks he might've forgot about it. A moment that had been so shockingly freeing.

That's the divide between body and mind, he might struggle to remember everything that happened but every mark on his chest carries the burden. For the rest of his life, those marks will serve as a reminder to everything that happened.

Because unlike the mind, the body never forgets.

[bookishb0rgid]

Not Alone

@medwhumpmay Day 3: "Squeeze My Hand"

Cw: referenced previous torture, vaguely referenced loss of weight

"You should go home," was a phrase Sam had heard all to often the past three days, not that she adhered to the advice. Her eyes are bloodshot, she hadn't slept. Her back aches from sitting in an uncomfortable hospital chair.

She has to be there when Rowan wakes up. He won't know where he is, and God knows what he'd been through in the days between his initial disappearance and his mysterious return. Bruises had made his face almost unrecognizable, his clothes were tattered, and the way he spoke just before he collapsed was far too incoherent to make anything out of.

She sits, studying her friend's, now thinner, frame as she distracted picks at the skin near her fingernails.

His posture shifts for just a moment, and a spark of hope jumps in her chest. She gently grabs his hand, lightly squeezing it.

He doesn't respond, but she swears his eyes briefly flutter open.

"Rowan, it's Sam. You're safe, I'll be here with you when you wake up," she says, failing to keep her voice steady.

She says it more for herself than she does for him, but she doesn't let go of his hand, "Rowan," she says the name quietly, pausing. Her eyes catch the angry red line around his wrist caused from some sort of irritation, anger and solemnity hit her simultaneously and she struggles to remember her words.

"If you can hear me," she finally says, her voice low with hesitation, "could you just squeeze my hand?"

She freezes as the words come tumbling out, hope and regret fighting for dominance in her head. A pain in her chest reminds her to breath, and as she does so she defeatedly pulls her hand away.

She's too caught in her own shame to see his fingers close around nothing.

[bookishb0rgid]

it was played as a joke but

there's something genuinely harrowing about gorgug and kristen on the deck of the ship, pelted by rain, swarmed by dragons, these two teenagers looking at each other with wide eyes trying to bury the fear down deep, and

do you remember when we died?

they were freshmen, they were children, they were two years younger but it feels like a hundred hundred years ago

it feels like yesterday, because deep down they're still that boy hiding his too large frame behind a metal flower and a girl stuffing her too large personality into the pages of her bible

do you remember when we died?

the ship rocks violently with cannon fire, hands of fear and divinity and loss creeping from the clouds

do you remember the day you lost your faith?

do you remember a forest so sharp it cut you clean through?

do you think we ever woke up?

[bookishb0rgid]

Cutting your losses

@medwhumpmay Day 2: Running Out of Time

Cw: Attempted Murder, blood, violence

"You're far more trouble than you're worth," sneers James Brasswell.

Kade blinks in confusion at the words, knees suddenly buckling as he hits the ground. He's faced with the powerful scent of leather from the hiking boots inches from his face as he fails to comprehend the speech of the man looming above him.

Kade slowly blinks, eyes bleary, Why is everything sideways?

As the sound of boots stepping away terrorizes his sudden, intense headache, his hand reaches towards his chest, flinching away as he feels something damp.

His eyes focus on crimson red, suddenly remembering a knife.

He quells the panic rising in his chest, pressing the heel of his palm into the wound.

I have to get help.

He helps himself onto his feet, taking unsteady steps before a firework of pain envelopes his chest.

He shouts, suddenly back on the ground. A sob escapes his throat, I'm going to die.

He lies on the ground, hand failing to keep pressure on the wound as his consciousness becomes fainter.

He needs help before he passes out, and he's running out of time.

[bookishb0rgid]

I Don't Feel Well

@medwhumpmay Day 4: Sedated

CW: non-con (medical) drugging

Kade fights against his will to close his eyes, looking for a staff member. "Excuse me," he calls out, "I don't feel-" he feels a wave of vertigo the second he shifts his head. "Help," he whimpers, unaware of the predatory way the medical personnel look at him as he falls unconscious.