#Bite down on this

[linecrosser]

Febuwhump 2024 - Day 3 - "Bite down on this"

[whumpdaydreamerx]

Magnum P.I. (2018) 3x05 | Ethan Shot

[how-much-for-a-whump]

Bir Zamanlar Çukurova 7. Bölüm

Prompt: "Trail of Torment"

part 1 | part 2

[uniquevoidflowers]

Summary:

“SHUT UP!” Wild shouted suddenly, making everyone stop in their tracks.

The captain inched closer to the cook so they were face to face. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

The cook clenched his fists, red in the face.

———————————————————-

Febuwhump 2024 Day 3: “Bite down on this.”

[em-writes-stuff]

“Bite down on this”

Day 3 of @febuwhump

Villain and supervillain

429 words

Warnings: dislocated shoulder

~

Supervillain stares at Villain, eyes boring into his back. “We’re gonna have to do it here.”

“What?” Villain squeaks. He turns around and shakes his head. “My shoulder is dislocated. We can’t ‘do it here’ I’ll die.”

“You won’t die.”

“If you’re the one to do it, yes I will. You’ve got super strength, remember? You’ll probably end up ripping my arm out of the socket and I’ll bleed out. Can we just go to the hospital?”

Supervillan shakes her head, “Sorry, too risky. Either I’ll reset it, or you’ll have to press against the wall to pop it back in.” She takes a second, then lowers her voice, “Or you can live with a dislocated shoulder until Hero stops the manhunt for us.”

Villain’s mouth presses into a thin line and he shakes his head, “If you pull my arm off, I’ll beat you to death with it.”

Supervillain chuckles and nods, “That sounds fair to me.”

She helps Villain lay on a table without moving his arm, then holds it loosely past his waist. She shakes it gently, moving it slowly to be straight out from Villain’s body.

“Are you doing ok?”

Villain nods, his face red. “Just keep going.”

Supervillain pauses and reaches for a stick on the ground. “Here,” she says, holding it above his face. “Bite down on this. You look like you’re gonna pop a blood vessel.”

Villain rolls his eyes, but opens his mouth and lets Supervillain put the stick between his teeth. Before he can protest, she’s moving his arm up again, this time past his shoulder and nearly touching his bicep to his ear. He winces, squeezes his eyes shut and clamps his teeth down on the stick, splitting it.

Supervillain bends his arm at the elbow and lowers it to his side, then helps him up.

He spits the stick out and uses his tongue to unstick any splinters still in his mouth while Supervillain takes off her shirt and rips it, fashioning it into a makeshift splint for Villain’s arm.

He tries not to look, knowing how much she values her privacy and swallows thickly after she backs away from him.

“Thank you,” he says, still looking at the ground.

She nods and claps her hands together once, “No problem. No way was I going to keep listening to your barely stifled whimpers when I know how to relocate a shoulder.”

“I was not whimpering!” Villain protests, finally looking up from the ground. “I was…making very manly noises of pain.”

Supervillain chuckles and nods, “Whatever, very manly man.”

[whump-about-it]

It Will Hurt Like Hell

@febuwhump Day 3: “Bite down on this.”

CW: cave in, begging, description of injuries, field surgery, implied amputation

Medic ran their hand through their hair as they took in the nightmare in front of them. The whole team had known there was a risk of cave ins in these old mines, but none of them ever expected it to actually happen. That sort of never actually happened. Right?

Medic let out a groan at their collective stupidity. The injuries were numerous. Even Medic was sporting a gash on their head that was leaving their ears fuzzy. But they didn’t have time for that now. Not to be injured. Not to be angry. Right now they had work to do.

Most of the injuries didn't seem life threatening. Lots of nasty cuts and bruises. One or two broken bones. Team Leader had also been hit on the head and it was already clear they were nursing a bad concussion. For the most part, all of the injuries were things the rest of the team could help each other muddle through. All except Whumpee that is.

Whumpee had been standing right under the support when it had given out. By some miracle, the broken beam had protected their head from any of the proceeding rockfall. Unfortunately however, most of the larger boulders had instead landed on their arm, leaving them pinned to the ground and screaming in pain.

"Doc! Help me! Please Doc. Oh my God, it hurts! It hurts so much!"

Medic knelt down next to Whumpee and shoo'd a team member away who was trying to move some of the rocks off. It only took a cursory glance to know Whumpee's arm couldn't be saved. It was completely crushed under massive rock debris all the way up passed the elbow. The bones would be pulp underneath it, and Whumpee was bleeding profusely.

Medic continued to tune out Whumpee's cries and began to pull off their backpack. They took out their medical kit and proceeded to tie a tourniquet around their arm.

"Okay Whumpee, I know it hurts. We're going to get it taken care of in a moment. I need you to take some deep breathes for me and drink this, as much as you can swallow."

Whumpee nodded and swallowed the last of their screams before taking some deep breathes and letting Medic tip the contents of their flask into their mouth. A few seconds later Whumpee was coughing, the agonizing pain of their arm seemingly forgotten for the moment.

"God Doc! Tequila?"

"Gin. And it's all I've got for painkillers right now. Do you want more?"

After a pause Whumpee nodded and Medic gave them another large swallow. While Whumpee was coughing again Medic sat up and and removed their belt.

"At least buy me dinner first."

"Glad to know the gin is working. Now, bite down on this."

Medic folded their belt in half twice and held it in front of Whumpee, who's eyes grew wide.

"W-why?"

"Whumpee I need you to do it quickly. You're loosing blood fast and I'd rather not wait until you go into shock."

Whumpee's face drained of what was left of it's color as they realized what was about to happen.

"Doc... Medic, please. Please don't do this. Please don't cut off my arm. You can save it. I know you can. You're a good doctor. Please don't take my arm."

Medic sighed and leaned close to Whumpee.

“Whumpee. I understand this is hard for you, and I won’t expect you to take this well. But you are loosing a lot of blood, and you’re going into shock. I’m a good doctor, but not a miracle worker. I can’t save your arm. We’re going to have to take it off eventually. And I’d rather it be when you’re properly sedated too, but there is no way we are going to be do that. Some of these boulders are too big to move even with all of us trying. Now, I'm about to do surgery on you with only alcohol as an anesthetic. It's going to hurt like hell, and you're going to bite something, unless you want it to be your tongue, bite down on this."

Whumpee looked at Medic with large eyes that were slowly glazing over. They appeared to falter a bit as though their conscious was wavering, but after a few seconds they leaned their head forward and bit down on the belt.

"Thank you." Medic whispered. "I promise I'll make this as quick as possible."

[nade2308]

I love this gifset so much. Ever since I saw this prompt I knew what I was gonna do for it. The trick was to remember this scene, and where I had seen it. Both me and @thethistlegirl were seeing the same thing in our heads when we read the prompt and through a process of elimination of possible shows and episodes, we found it was the Magnum reboot pilot episode. It was too vivid for us to have made it up, and we were right, we did it see it somehere. This scene somehow got seared in our brains, and I am glad for that. This moment is going to haunt me for a long, long time. The trust, the support, the love and care between these two, mwah, chef's kiss.

@febuwhump

A03 link

[such-a-random-rambler]

Febuwhump - Day 3

“You’ve got to stay still as possible while I do this.” Virgil has one hand on John’s upper femur, the other cupping his ankle tightly. “You move at the wrong time and the bone could go through an artery.” 

“I know, I know.” John has his eyes squeezed shut, trembling hands clenched into his shirt, voice cracking thickly against the pain.  If Virgil can’t brace the leg, John won’t be able to walk even a little, and they won’t see daylight again. Virgil pushes a roll of bandages into John’s hand.  

“Here, bite down on this. And I’m so sorry.” 

[rrain-writes]

Rain's LU Febuwhump: Day 3

"Bite down on this.": Legend

Warnings: Blood, Injury, Poison, Barb-tipped arrow, Unawareness of surroundings.

Art

Legend cursed. The stray arrow stuck out of his arm, shooting pain all the way down to where he gripped his sword.

It hurt like a bitch. Not that he’d ever admit it.

“-end? Legend?” Was someone calling his name? He didn’t remember the battle ending. Or sitting down. Or-

“Legend!” Oh yeah. People calling for him.

“Mhm?”

“Oh thank the goddesses. How are you feeling?”

His arm decided to remind him of its existence. Legend groaned.

“Just peachy. Ev’ything great.”

The person in front of him suddenly came into focus.

“Oh, hey Rulie. Watcha doin’.”

Hyrule seemed to be having a conversation with someone just out of view.

“I looks like a barbed tip arrow. It seems to be covered in some kind of poison too.”

Legend looked at the arm Hyrule was referring to.

“Man, I was wondering why my arm was sore.”

Someone sighed, and Hyrule pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Ok. Legend, I’m need to get this out of your arm before I give you a potion, alright?”

Legend nodded woozily. “Wha’ever ya say.”

Legend eyes stopped taking in what was going on around him as Hyrule carefully snapped the shaft of the arrow. Was his brain meant to feel this fuzzy?

“Hey, don’t go falling asleep.”

Falling asleep sounded like a pretty good idea. The ground seemed pretty comfortable… oh. Someone was holding something in front of his face.

“This is going to hurt Legend. I need to cut the arrow out of your arm.”

“Hmm.”

“Just,” the person in front of his groaned, looking a bit sick. “Bite down on this, ok?”

Legend didn’t feel like arguing right now, and the person seemed to know what they were doing, so he took whatever was in front of his face between his teeth.

Good thing he did, because it hurt. Actually, it hurt a lot. He was probably going to break his teeth biting down on the strap in his mouth.

Legend tried jerking his arm away from whatever was causing him pain, but it there was just more pain. Great.

It seemed that someone was trying to cut his arm open. Looking at said arm, there was blood leaking over a wound caused by something stuck in his arm, the skin around it being cut away by delicate fingers was also covered in blood.

Oh yeah. There was an arrow in his arm.

“Son of a one eyed goddess.” Legend swore around the strap. Except he couldn’t talk that well, so it sounded more like: “Shun ev a wu eye go’ess.”

Legend didn’t think it made a difference. His companions probably knew what he meant.

After agonising hours (It probably wasn’t that long), the knife was finally out of sight. Now could he have potion please?

Guess not. Legend had forgotten the head of the arrow was still in his arm.

When it was yanked out, his screech of pain and surprise (which, to someone walking by, probably sounded like a feral cat being waterboarded) caused the strap to fall out of his mouth, and his eyes (which yes, had been watering) to betray him and spill tears.

Someone was murmuring reassurances close to his ear, though he couldn’t make out what they were saying.

“Hurts.” He croaked out.

Hyrule came into focus again in front of him, hands covered in blood as he held a bottle to Legends lips.

“Here, drink this. It will be ok.”

The potion tasted familiar, but the smell of blood was strong and seemed to cancel out the nostalgic taste.

“It’ll be ok Ledge.” Someone new said. “Just sleep.”

And he did.

[the-whumping-hour]

Day 3 - "Bite down on this"

@febuwhump DAY 3!

CW: Field surgery without anesthesia, moderate blood and guts descriptions, mild emeto, shock from near-fatal gunshot wound, mention of medication allergy

Notes: Some of this may be bullshit but this is whump not science class. I am not a doctor, and technically none of the characters in this scene are either, lmfao! Enjoy!!!

***

The world goes still as the bullet makes impact. For a moment, nothing but a punch and a stagger, and then comes the heat. And the heat is relentless.

“Jayla, they’re on the roof! They’re on the…” Marcelo’s eyes lock with Gabriel’s, which are already beginning to be swallowed up by stunned pain. He can feel the blood soaking into his sweatshirt, hot and hungry, but the shout of panic out of Marcy is still enough to jolt him as his hand finds the wound.

A second later, he hits the ground.

“Gabriel!” Someone’s voice, someone’s hands, and the noise of recognition that starts to leave Gabe’s mouth turns to a gurgle of pain as Marcy’s hands find his gut. It burns, so bad, and the burning gets worse every second that Marcy shifts his weight and yells words that echo and warble and ring like the sounds of gunfire still drilling into Gabriel’s head. More hands find him, pick him up gently, larger and steadier than those of the man still pressing into him as the world starts to spin with movement. “Get him to the van, get him to the van, this is not gonna be good—” and then Marcy’s voice leaves completely, and it’s just Gabriel in the arms of who he’s figured now is Dominic Grace. The sound of a door slamming open, then darkness, broken only by the terrified eyes of Seiah suddenly appearing over him as fabric begins to tear. The sinking guilt in his stomach is more than just copper at this point.

Words filter in and out of his ears, muffled by a numb depersonalization that he realizes, somewhere, definitely isn’t ideal. Every nerve buzzes as his skin is exposed to cold air, soothed only by the rising tide of blood down his side. 

If death is so cold, why is it welcomed in so warmly?

“...the anesthetic makes him seize, I am not...”

“So what, you’re…”

“...Jayla gets back, she’ll drive us fast, but…”

“...stomach acid…”

“...fatal…”

“GABE!” Blond hair and blue eyes and fear. Gabriel’s eyes loll open slowly to the sight of a scalpel hovering over his skin. “Gabe, Gabey, this is gonna hurt. Please just hold on. Please.” The van’s moving, when did the van start moving? When did he get in the van? “Bite down on this, if you can, okay? It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay, Gabey.”

A folded belt finds its way between his teeth. It reminds him of dried fruit, of snacks scavenged from the back of the pantries after school, lonely nights doing homework in the—

It all explodes into darkness.

By the time the fire clears, the blue of Seiah’s gloves is entirely coated in red. By the time the fire clears, his body is open, something pulsing and everything torn with Dominic holding everything sharp in his hands and Teana humming a lullaby over a handful of gauze and towels.

He gags.

“Nonono, shh, you’re okay. You’re okay.” It’s Teana talking, now; Seiah seems too lost in a mess of organs to register Gabriel’s movement at all. Everything’s lonely now, distant, cold. Stabbing like ice. “Don’t look. Don’t look at any of it. We’re almost at the clinic, they’ll have something to help you, okay? They’ll have something that works.”

Something pinches, squeezes, aches. He swears he can see his muscles flex as he jerks from the pain. Next to him, on the van floor, is a tupperware container with bullet shards and viscera. He wonders if he’ll ever forget it.

“Grace, hold that closed for me.”

His hands find Gabriel’s guts, and something lurches. This is beyond nausea, beyond disgust. He feels like a vessel, like a dying nest, like something damp and splattering on a cave floor.

His organs seem to nod in agreement.

“This should be the last piece? Make sure I don’t open that again when I do. Just…”

God, he thinks he’s dying. 

It burns.

“Gabe? Gabe, Gabe, you’re okay, you’re okay…”

More blood.

“Just keep— fuck, just keep breathing—”

More heat.

“Almost there, almost there, just—”

Relief. Closure. Pain coming to a head.

He blacks out again.

[majorproblems77]

Day 3 - Bite down on this

Day 3 of my Febuwhump sees us return to one of My whumptober projects, Pinned down was one of a few that I had requests to continue last year so here you are :)

[thethistlegirlwrites]

Bite Down on This

Sierra’s not sure why it’s always when they’re miles from actual help when one of them gets seriously injured. She’s pretty sure it’s almost every time.

She should probably ask Pete. He might have a spreadsheet for it. 

Rows: Sierra, Wren, Shay, Pete, Saanvi (she’d rank them in order of most likely to be injured, but Pete might have gone alphabetical).

Columns: Miles from assistance when needed (It probably goes up in increments of twenty-five).

Wren would have the most recent column addition, she’s out for the next two weeks. But when Pete and Saanvi dialed in on a location being used as a weapons cache for a couple hunters dealing Agency-grade armaments to vigilantes, it needed to be dealt with immediately. 

Unfortunately, the arms dealers happened to be at home when the raid party showed up. One of them took off in a truck full of goods, and Pete and Saanvi followed him with the Jeep they’d borrowed from the agency that was getting ripped off.

She’d chosen not to ask for local manpower backup, in case these guys were someone’s friends and they wound up double crossed.

Now she sort of wishes she’d at least taken two vehicles.

Because when they took down the guy who’d holed up in the cabin, Shay had taken a silver bullet.

Pete gives her a hard time about getting injured a lot, but Sierra would rather it be her than any of the rest of her team. She’s on this task force to redeem herself. She’s got a lot to make up for. The others are just here because it’s the right thing to do. Even Shay.

“I can’t give you blood until we get that bullet out of your leg, or you’ll heal around it. And the silver would poison you even faster.”

Shay nods, teeth clenched. “Then get it out.” 

Sierra unbuckles her wrist cuff, then hands it to him. “Bite down on this. You don’t need to break a fang while I'm working.” 

He does, sharp teeth sinking deep into the worn leather.

Sierra looks from his bloodied pantleg to his tense face, pulls out the smaller tactical knife that isn’t silver plated, and gets to work.

It’s not like she has a lot of experience in safe field bullet removal, but unless she somehow slices through multiple major blood vessels and he loses more blood than they can replace with the emergency stock in his field kit, that doesn’t really matter. 

A field kit that she just remembered is in the Jeep Pete and Saanvi drove away with.

Well, at least she ate some peanut-butter stuffed crackers on the drive over. 

The bullet thankfully isn’t deep, going through a layer of wooden door first sort of lessened the impact, but she has to make sure it, any wood splinters, and whatever pant leg piece it drove in are all out before the wound closes. Vampires always heal back to their state at the time of turning, but that doesn’t account for foreign bodies in wounds. They learned that the hard way. Sierra doesn’t want a repeat performance. 

Shay whines, the sound buzzing around the leather, as she works the tip of the knife below the bullet and pushes it out. She hopes something in his mouth is at least some sort of distraction from her digging around in his leg.

Truth be told, she couldn’t have focused on the task at hand if she’d heard those tortured screams again. As it is, hurting him even to help him makes her feel too much like the Silver State monsters whose spikes and mallets left the faint silver scars still visible on his wrists. 

She rinses the wound with a bottle of water from these guys’ stash, checking for anything she still needs to pull out. The cloth she catches with the point of her blade and part of a disassembled rifle that had been laying on top of a couple crates of phosphorus grenades, and she’s able to pull out the two wood splinters with her fingers.

“Almost done,” she says, resting a hand on Shay’s shoulder for a moment before stalking over to the guy tied up and snarling through a gag in the corner.

“My partner’s injured. And he needs blood,” she says, bending down next to him.

What she assumes were curses turn into something that sounds a lot more like pleading. He thinks she’s going to feed him to the vampire.

She might consider it, but she’s not supposed to be breaking the rules of engagement for her own personal vendettas anymore. Aside from the fact that he’d probably tell everyone she let it happen while he was unarmed and restrained, and Maira would have her head for it (and possibly her strike team as well), they’d probably never get that far because Shay would flat out refuse the blood.

He’s like that. 

Sierra wonders, at times like this, how she ended up with less moral compass than an undead blood drinker. 

She rifles through his jacket pockets until she finds the packet of jerky she saw him snacking on when they were scouting the place, before they pulled up and all hell broke loose. 

She’s got to bring her iron levels back up afterward.

She turns away from the still panicking arms dealer and sits down next to Shay, holding out her arm.

“Bite down on this.”

“I’m not biting you.”

“You’re losing more blood now that the bullet’s out. By the time Pete and Saanvi get back, you’ll need more than they have in our kit.”

“Can’t you do the knife thing?”

“I can go digging around your leg with unsterile tools, genius, I can’t do that on me.”

He shakes his head, but takes the leather out of his mouth, and a second later, teeth close on her wrist.

She doesn’t think she’s ever going to quite get used to the feel of a bite. The closest thing she can compare it to is the stomach-dropping feeling of driving hills at a speed where when you come over the top and start going down, there’s a second where it feels like the car’s going forward into nothing but thin air like a Wile-e Coyote cartoon. 

Another scream buzzes against her skin this time as the wound in Shay’s leg begins to knit itself back together.

Fast healing is a pretty nice trick, but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. 

Numbness creeps up her arm, spidering along the veins as the saliva does its work. She watches muscle and skin cover the bloody gash in Shay’s leg. 

She got all the pieces out. He’s going to be fine.

She works a wrapped pad out of a back pocket of her jeans one-handed, and as soon as the fangs slip out of her skin, she opens the cover and presses it against her arm. Vamp saliva is like mosquito saliva. It makes the blood clot less so they can drink. She’s going to need to apply pressure for a bit.

Shay leans against her, panting even though he no longer physically needs to breathe. They both sit in silence for several minutes, until Shay finally says something in a shallow voice that’s still raw with recent pain.

“Why do you always eat peanut butter when we’re going into danger?”

He was bound to notice sooner or later.

“Because your favorite food is peanut butter pie but I don’t always have enough advance notice or the supplies to make that.”

“Whoa. Hold on. You eat peanut butter before these things because you think I might get injured enough that I have to drink your blood?”

“Beats stale bagels and bad motel coffee, right?”

He shakes his head. “Sierra, I mean this in the best possible way, but you’re really, really weird.”

She just reaches for the packet of jerky and pulls out a strip. “Try not to need a round two. This guy’s taste in dried meat was honey mustard.”

Shay makes a face. “Yeah. Have fun with that.”

Sierra chuckles and leans back into him, the vamp saliva in her blood making even eating honey-mustard flavored jerky in a musty cabin with a soon to be ex-hunter screaming obscenities at them from behind a sock gag feel kind of nice.

Still, nothing is going to make filling out the after action report on this fiasco suck any less.

(You can read this story and others from this universe on my WorldAnvil here!)

@catwingsathena @nade2308 @the-one-and-only-valkyrie @telltaleclerk @ettawritesnstudies  @writeouswriter @whump-place

[astaldis]

@witcherwhumpweek​    @badthingshappenbingo​

Chapters: 1/1    Words: 919 Rating: Mature Relationships: Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach & Emhyr var Emreis   Additional Tags: Witcher Whump Week (The Witcher), Bad Things Happen Bingo, Febuwhump 2024, Young Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach, Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach Whump, Branding Series: Part 5 of Young Cahir Snippets

Summary: Just one day between Emhyr var Emrise and a young Cahir, but a very significant (and painful) one.

Inspired by the Witcher Whump Week prompt for day 2 "Keep still!", the Febuwhump prompts 3 "Bite down on this" and 4 "Obedience" and the Bad Things Happen Bingo prompt "Branding."

[jedi-lothwolf]

Febuwhump Master List!!

So I am so very late but oh well right? Anyway it was a lot of fun and I definitely look forward to next year! Febuwhump is one of my favorite Promt challenges!

Each fandom has a color which will be listed below! My favorites have a star beside them! All summaries/warnings are with the story!

Star Wars Rebels, EPIC the musical/the Odyssey, The Bad Batch, Star Wars The Clone Wars, Miraculous Ladybug,

Day 1: Helpless

Day 2: "I Love You" (Alt Prompt 2)

Day 3: "Bite Down on This"

Day 4: Obedience

Day 5: Last Words (Alt Prompt 7)

Day 6: "You Lied to Me."

Day 7: Suffering in Silence

Day 8: "Why Won't it Stop?"

Day 9: Bees

Day 10: Killing in Self Defense

Day 11: Time Loop

[crimsonlyinglilly]

DAY 3: "bite down on this" and DAY 4: obedience

Day three and four of Febuwhump.

@febuwhump

Warning for Branding and possessive thoughts.

More of Familiar Faces, and Elijah's no good, bad past life.

Tristan in this is a warning to himself, neither he or Elias are well.

-----

"Bite down on this." Tristan offered, as he held out the leather bit.

It was fascinating, he marvelled as Elias with perfect obedience opened his mouth to bite down on the leather, with the slight grimace on his face he resembled Elijah even more.

It was clear the boy wasn’t looking forward to this evening when he had arrived at Tristan's summons, in one of the lesser used sitting rooms of the house, to find a rack placed in the centre of the room and a blazing fire.

Yet when told he had stripped down to his underwear and walked to the rack letting Tristan attach him to the rack with only a moment hesitation and wary glances.

Tristan thought he was accommodating enough he had ensured the cuffs were padded to reduce any unplanned injuries, it also made sure that his art wasn’t going to be ruined by an unfortunate jolt.

And it was going to be a piece of work, it had taken a metal worker weeks to complete a band of the de Martel family’s coat of arms as well as another of his own personal crest. The second was smaller but Elias had tried so hard to hold himself still when Tristan had carved his name just before he had commissioned them, he had decided to reward him.

Besides as much as he enjoyed Elias’s pain and the sight of his obedience, he didn’t really want the boy covered in scars, it would create difficulties later.

This however had to be done, on the anniversary of his father’s death and without either of his heirs, the fall of the de Martel family. How else should he commemorate? Especially when he had the near image of the cause.

Elias wasn’t Elijah though, he thought as he lifted the first brand, the large one of his family coat of arms, he readying it inches from centre of Elias's back, noting that even as Elijah tried to lean away from the heat the bindings held him still.

As such Tristan would take care to ensure they both healed well afterwards and he was rewarded for enduring. Tristan had learned from watching the hound master train the dogs as a child, just how to prevent from going so far and to cause them to bite back.

Elias's first scream was muffled by the bit as the red metal met skin, Tristan ignore the smell and held it still,

Perhaps one day he could repeat this with the true culprit and not the poor poxy.

One day Elijah Mikaelson would be his to make suffer.

It wasn’t love, but it was intimate. Tristan knew why Elijah had gotten close to him, to ensure he wasn’t a threat to his siblings, Tristan would have done the same for Aurora.

He pulled a away the brand after a few moment and placed it in the bucket of water, letting the hiss of was cover the sound of he pulling the second brand from the fire.

Sleeping together hadn’t really been planned by either of them, but Tristan had been interested in Elijah’s strength and that had grown into a desire to control that strength, control a monster, a desire Elijah had echoed in a more subtle way.

Covering the sound did nothing as he noticed Elias was still holding himself tense, no doubt the boy had noticed two handles and worked out there was two brands, still even as he stepped in front of the boy he kept his eyes closed, bit still between gritted teeth, refusing to look.

He could order him to, make him watch as the metal met skin but that's wasn't the point of tonight. Elias was just a poor soul that had found himself in the middle of something that started long before he was born.

It wasn’t love but Tristan had thought he had known Elijah, yet he hadn’t been prepared for Elijah’s ruthless pragmatism, and it had cost him- them everything, by the time he was himself again his family name and worth was lost. Still for a century he was Elijah, he knew he was the only person who knew his sire as well as himself.

Elias jolted as the smaller brand of his personal crest made contact with his chest, over above his heart, the restraints once again held him.

Elijah and he had made each other.

Elias, however, Elias was something he was making, it may not be love but he was fond of his little pet that favoured the Original.

Elias leaned into his hand as he gently wiped away the tears, even as the his other hand still held the brand.

[starliight-whump]

Bite down on this

Febuwhump DAY 3: "bite down on this"

contains: captivity, torture, electric shocks

“Bite down on this. I’ve got a new tool I want to try.”

James stared down on the brown piece of leather Harrison presented him with and blinked in confusion. The pounding in his head made his thoughts fuzzy and slow, as if they moved through thick syrup.

A slap across his face caused James to flinch and he looked up at his tormentor.

“Just do it.” Harrison urged, and James obediently bit down on the leather. It was thick, with an earthy taste. Not very pleasant, and much worse was definitely coming. But refusing would inevitably make the coming pain so much worse.

James watched wearily as Harrison turned to the nearby table and picked something up, and the dread he felt quickly turned into fear when he saw the spark of electricity from the device. He looked up at Harrison with terror in his eyes. Part of him wanted to beg, but James knew it was pointless. Begging had never, ever changed Harrison’s mind. If anything, it just seemed to amuse him.

James didn't want to have to watch as he came closer with the device, so he closed his eyes though tears still ran down the sides of his face. Harrison’s laugh rang through the room. 

“Oh, don't you cry Jamie. This is gonna be fun,” Harrison grinned. He said that often, but James and Harrison had very different ideas of fun.

Something pressed against the bare skin on his chest and his whole world lit up with pain. Involuntarily, James' jaw clenched and he bit down on the leather, strangling the scream in his throat. His whole body tenses and spasmed as the electricity tore through his body like wildfire. It was, indeed, not fun at all. It hurt terribly, even as the current stopped flowing through his body, leaving James gasping and trembling with tears running down his face.