#Race Against Time

[jasmines-library]

Bad Moon Rising

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WHUMPTOBER 2024: Day one, prompt: 'Race Against Time' Summary: On a bad full moon, remus ends up hurting you and its a race against time to get you help. Warnings: Blood, gore, cursing. Word count: 1.8k

Note: Welcome to whumptober 2024!!! ⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER 24

It was that time of month again. The time of month where Remus, the poor boy, wasn’t in a very good mood. With a very valid reason. It was far enough into the year that it was dark only a few hours after you finished your classes. It was late afternoon, and the rain pattered quietly against the glass panes of the marauders’ bedroom. The four of you were enjoying the last few moments of calm before you had to head out to the shrieking shack for the night. You would have spent it in the common room, but the noise was just too much for poor Remus’ ears, so instead you were curled up on his bed. He was pressed against you, head resting on your chest as you ran your fingers through his curls in an attempt to soothe him. You could tell that he was in quite some pain, even if he tried not to show it. He always was just before the full moon. As you shifted, re-adjusting your position to get more comfy, Remus grumbled, pulling you closer to him and away from James who was residing to your left. 

“Sorry baby.” You apologised softly. 

He just grumbled something rather incoherently, but he seemed to forgive you. 

As the sun continued to dip below the skyline, and the sky resumed that muggy grey colour, the feeling of unease seeped into the room. It would be time to go soon. You hated the full moon. You hated seeing your boyfriend in so much pain every night. But eventually, Sirius was the one to break the tension. 

“We need to go…” he said slowly and quietly as if he didn’t want to say it at all. 

Pressing a kiss to Remus’ forehead as he stood and took Sirius’s hand, you stood up off of the bed, entwined your fingers with James’ as you made your way to the shack. 

~

The Shrieking Shack was dark and dingy as always. The grey walls and crooked ceilings did little to make Remus feel welcome, and the soggy leaves that stuck to the floor, blown in by the wind or brought in on the bottom of your shoes did very little to add to that feeling. Using your wand, you lit the fireplace, hoping to eliminate some of the chill in the air and to make the transformation a little bit more comfortable for Remus. It didn’t help a whole bunch, but he appreciated the sentiment. As the fire lit up the room with its golden hues, you could see the plethora of scratch marks clawed into the wood like permanent scars; reminders of Remus’ torment. The sight of them made you shiver, and James gripped your hand tighter. 

With a hand on Remus’ back, Sirius guided him to sit on the floor. Remus let out a pained noise. The moon was high in the sky now, and the transformation was starting. You could hardly watch as Remus cried out in pain, his bones snapping and twisting as they re-organised themselves. No matter how many times you saw it, it never got easier. You buried your face into Sirius’ chest until the noises stopped. When you turned back around, instead of your boyfriend stood a werewolf. That was your cue to shrink down into your animagus. The world twisted around you as you and your other two partners transformed. And usually that would be that. The three of you would watch Moony and make sure he kept out of trouble and as long as you didn’t do anything to aggravate him, he wouldn’t mind the presence of your animagi. However this time….something was off. 

Instead of ignoring you and going to prowl through the shack, Remus was still. And staring straight at you. He tilted his head at you. His ears twitched and his eyes, gold as the sun, pierced straight into you. You stood your ground, but you couldn’t help the nervous twinge in your stomach. Moony had never shown this much interest in you before…as he took a step forward, his head bowed towards you, James let out a warning noise. And then everything sort of…snapped. Went to chaos like it never had before. Remus charged forwards, lunging on his hind legs towards you. James was quick on his feet, knocking him to the side with his antlers. Sirius darted towards you, urging you to run as you let out a frightened squeal and scattered across the room, slinking under the bed. There was a loud howl, followed by the loud thump as the werewolf crossed the room. You backed yourself further under the bed against the wall. You could see his paws as he stopped at the foot of his bed. The sharpness of his claws scraped against the floor. With a low snarl, he lowered his head, nose twitching as he tried to find you. Once he had spotted you, he snapped forwards. You darted across the room, weaving under the piano and scrambling down the stairs. You could hear a commotion behind you. Likely a frantic James and Sirius trying to slow Remus. 

You managed to hide under one of the chairs downstairs. Your heart was pounding as you tried to catch your breath, hoping that you would be safe for a little while. But your hope was short lived. Werewolves have an incredibly good sense of smell, and even better hearing. Remus would have been able to hear the rapid beating of your heart from a mile away. Everything went impossibly downhill from there. As Remus bolted down the stairs after you, James and Sirius were close behind him, but not close enough. 

The werewolf managed to grab you from under the chair with his claws. They dug into your flesh, tearing it as he dragged you out. You let out a strangled noise, your animal for trying to fight against him. Once he had pulled you out, Remus pinned you to the ground with a heavy paw, his claws still digging into your flesh like swords. You were paralysed with fear as he leaned down and snarled at you. Moony had never attacked you before. You cowered, writhing in pain as you struggled to get away until suddenly the weight was knocked away from you by an angry pair of antlers and a loud, authoritative bark. Things were a blur as James drove Remus out of the shack and into the forest, distracting Remus from you so that Sirius could shift back and kneel by you. 

“shit….Shit!” Sirius cursed as he looked down at your tiny form, your fur stained sticky with blood. This had been the boys’ biggest fear. The reason that Remus had been hesitant to let you come with them in the first place….Sirius was panicking. His heart pounding in his chest. The shack was dark, despite the fire still burning, and it was hard to tell how much damage had been caused when you were still in your animagus form. But he knew it would be hard for you to shift back, given how distressed you were. So, gingerly taking his wand from his pocket, he cast a spell over you and watched as you shifted back, your pained squeaks turning into pained sobs. Tears streamed down your face as you gasped in pain, disorientated. 

“Okay….it's okay.” Sirius said, trying to reassure you. Or himself. Probably both. His hands tried to stem the blood flow. “You're gonna be okay…I got you…”

You whimpered, crying out. The wounds burnt like fire, like an impossible amount of agonies all at once. Your vision blurred.

“Hey. stay awake. You have to stay awake okay?” Sirius pleaded with you. He couldn’t let you pass out. Not before he got you to a healer. But he also couldn’t just leave James with Remus…. 

You let out another weak, pained noise as the world spun. Sirius squeezed your hand, cursing himself for not being better at healing spells. “Come on…talk to me baby.”

“...hurts….” you managed to get out. 

“I know…I know. It's okay though. You’re gonna be fine. Moony’s sorry…and James- Jamie is gonna get back here soon and then we’ll get you to Poppy, okay?”

You didn’t really give him a response, which worried him more. He cursed silently, trying to keep you awake and to stop you from losing too much blood. But as time ticked on and you grew weaker with no sign of James, he realised that you were running out of time. That was when Sirius decided that he was going to have to take a risk. Easing his hand under you, and grimacing at the cry you let out as he lifted you up, he began to carry you out of the shack. He was silently praying that James was okay and that he had managed to distract Remus enough that it would be safe enough to get you back to the castle. 

Sirius held you close to his chest as he hurried back to the castle. He whispered words to you, trying to get you to hold on as you faded in and out of consciousness in his arms, just hoping to whatever gods were listening that he would make it in time.

~

Someone was holding your hand. The hand was soft, but calloused and all so very familiar to you. Remus. He had been by your side since he woke up. And he had been beating himself up ever since. He perked up as he saw you start to stir. 

“....baby…?” He asked, his voice almost a whisper.

“...hm?” You murmured. Your eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the harsh light before you realised you were in the hospital wing as it all came back to you. There was a bandage wrapped securely around your torso, and you were a little sore, but thanks to madam Pomfrey’s magic, you felt like you were healing nicely. When you realised fully who was beside you, you couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on your face.

“...moony…”

Remus cracked a sad smile. “Yeah…it's me…hi sweetheart.”

“...you okay..?” 

Remus couldn't help the small laugh he let out. Of course you were worried about him. “I’m fine ...but baby i’m so sorry…i-i don't know what happened.”

You squeezed his hand. “It's alright. It wasn’t you.”

“I should have been able to control myself–”

“It wasn’t you, love.” you cut Remus off immediately, feeling the need to let him know that he wasn’t responsible for what happened. 

He sighed softly. You could tell he was still feeling incredibly guilty, but had decided to drop it for now.  “You’re too good to me..to us.”

“Nah. it's just love.”

Remus’ face flushed proudly. “Merlin…i love you so much.” he pressed a kiss to your head “so damn much.”

DAY TWO ->

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[chaotic-orphan]

Whumptober No. 1

Race Against Time

Search Party // Panic Attack // "If only we could hold on.”

TW: lady whump, blood, lady whumpee, multiple whumpees, male whumper

Welcome to Whumptober everyone 3:) I am doing all 31 days~

*~*~*~*~*

Caretaker kicked Whumper’s door to the cabin open, gun in hand, barrel finding Whumper’s chest immediately and locking on. Immediately. Because Whumper was sitting on the couch with a book in hand, waiting for Caretaker to arrive. At the commotion he raised his head and smiled.

“Ah, Caretaker, I was wondering when you’d come back.”

“Where is he?” Caretaker all but growled. Whumper didn’t answer. He tilted his head to the side, eyes locked on Caretaker’s the whole time, as if Caretaker wasn’t holding a gun that could kill him in heartbeat. A small squeeze of the trigger, so gentle a touch for such a big weight off her shoulders.

Caretaker could kill him, she realised. Right here, right now. She could be free of him forever. A tremor ran through her hands at the possibility. So tempting. So tantalising. If she killed him she wouldn’t get Whumpee back.

“You know you really shouldn’t aim those things at someone you don’t intend to shoot.”

Caretaker’s eyes flashed. “Try me.”

Whumper hummed, snapping the book shut and placing it on the table beside the couch. Caretaker swallowed, planting her feet on the ground, expecting him to stand.

Instead he crossed one leg over the other, resting his ankle on his knee and leaning his elbow on the armrest, his hand propping up his cheek. Completely relaxed.

“Where’s Whumpee?” Caretaker ground out through clenched teeth. Whumper smiled coyly, his eyes the half lidded fox gaze, that saw everything. It was as if he could strip back skin with his gaze, peeling back layers and peeking inside you to see how you thought, how you felt, what made you tick, what made you scared, what made you scream. The world his playground; people his play things.

“Did you come alone?” Whumper asked instead. The question sent shivers down her spine because yes, yes she did come alone and he knew that. She could feel it. He just asked to let her know he knows.

Caretaker stepped closer, hopefully menacing, but her body was thrumming with a mixture of fear, anxiety and adrenaline. She had to keep her nerves for god sake, her hands clammy on the grip.

She clicked off the safety. “Where’s Whumpee?”

Whumper smiled. It made the hairs on her arms stand on end, at attention, every fibre of her being registering the threat he was to her. And he wasn’t even moving. He was just sitting. Fuck! She was freaking out.

“Look at you, Caretaker. Taking the initiative, I told you that you’re magnificent,” Whumper purred. “If you could see yourself right now you’d know what I’m talking about.”

Caretaker swallowed, trying to dislodge the lump that formed in her throat. This is just his trick, his verbal disarmament. Reel you in with his honeyed words and once he has you, he…

Caretaker steeled her resolve, raising the gun a little higher, about to ask where Whumpee was again when Whumper stood suddenly and she faltered. His movements fluid like a cat, a deadly grace as he towered over her, humming. She fought the urge to step back.

“How long do you think a person can survive without breathing, Caretaker?” He asked, his voice rumbling in his chest, echoing off the wooden cabin walls and back to her ears.

“What?” She asked.

Whumper put his hands behind his back, observing her down his nose now. “How long do you think someone can survive without oxygen?”

Dread opened in her guy like a black hole, yawning and threatening to pull her organs into it. “Wh— what does that have to do with anything?” She stammered, hating her mutinous voice.

Whumper hummed, shrugging. “It may or may not have something to do with where Whumpee is,” he said casually. Caretaker paled.

“So would you say a minute? Two minutes? Say, how long was this delightful chat, hmm?” He crooned, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“Whu—” Panic and rage blinded her at his words, heart jumping into her throat because how long have they been speaking? Was it longer than a minute? Two? Three? Can normal people go without oxygen for three minutes? Could Whumpee?

She abandoned the thought of shooting Whumper, clicking the safety on and opting instead to hit him with it. A blunt weapon, probably more effective than killing him if she wanted Whumpee back and he caught her wrist before it could make contact.

How— she didn’t even see him move. Her eyes widened as she yanked back, but her wrist didn’t budge from his grip. His eyes flashed down at her, tipping his chin back as a smirk slowly made its way across his face.

He reached his free hand to her face, cupping her cheek. She flinched at the contact, but Whumper didn’t make fun of her for it. She was trembling violently, her index finger pulsing, reaching for the safety to click it off and shot him because she had to get away—

Whumper yanked her closer, making her lose her balance and stumble forward into him. He plucked the gun from her hand, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “So bold of you, Caretaker. To think you could threaten me.”

Tears welled behind her eyes. “Please,” she begged. “Please just tell me where Whumpee is. Please let him go.”

Whumper tilted his head, regarding her. “And what do I get in return?” He mused but Caretaker didn’t have time to negotiate! Whumpee didn’t have time!

“Anything!” She blurted out, desperate, trying to pull her hand free from his grip. “Please! Please! He could be dying! He could be dead, please!”

“Anything,” Whumper repeated, tasting the word on his tongue. “How interesting. Tempting. Exactly what I wanted to hear.”

Caretaker lurched forward, grabbing a fistful of his shirt, eyes wide. “Please! Anything! Please, just free Whumpee! Please!”

Whumper paused. “Are you begging?”

“Yes! Yes! I’m begging you, please!” She cried, her heart racing, feeling sweat bead on the back of her neck, horribly conscious about the passing seconds ticking by while Whumpee could be dead or dying, or unconscious.

Whumper’s smile glinted with a knife’s edge as he leaned his head down to hers. “You don’t look like you’re begging, Caretaker.”

Ice flushed her blood, her knees locking as her heart stuttered, shaking like a dog during halloween. Her mouth suddenly very dry, but she was hesitating. She couldn’t— no, for Whumpee.

Her face flushed with shame as she dropped to her knees in front of him. He still didn’t release her wrist, holding it above her head now, tears burst from her lower eyelids, spilling over her cheeks. She stared at his feet.

“Please,” she whispered, tightening her free hand into a fist on her thigh. “Please let him go.”

“Look at me, Caretaker,” Caretaker stared at the ground, she didn’t want to give him the pleasure of seeing her cry. But Whumper didn’t let her have any of her dignity. He sat down and tilting her head up to look at him. “I’ll release Whumpee, if you take his place.”

Caretaker flinched. “What?” She asked with a stolen breath.

Whumper smiled, sitting back in the couch and propping his head up on his hand again, his eyes dancing with a pleased maliciousness.

“You heard me, Caretaker. Those are my terms. You for Whumpee,” he said, his eyes flicking to something behind her. “And I’d say you need to decide quickly.”

Caretaker searched his face for a trick, for a lie, for any hint that he was joking but he wasn’t. He was just watching her with his cut amber eyes, smirk on his face because he already knew her answer.

She looked away from him. “Fine,” she ground out through clenched teeth. “Now let Whumpee go.”

Whumper sighed. “Alright. But first, I need you to do something for me.”

Caretaker’s eyes burned, narrowing into a glare. “No, give me Whumpee! Now! He could be dead already!”

Whumper tightened his hand on her wrist but she didn’t wince or show it hurt. She needed Whumpee. To see him safe and sound. Whumper leaned forward, making her lean back almost falling if he didn’t have a tight on her wrist keeping her up.

His hot breath fanned her face, blowing a stray hair as he spoke. “I can leave Whumpee to die all I want, Caretaker. I’m the only one who knows where he is, now do you want to save him, or do you want to refuse me and waste more time?”

Caretaker pulled her wrist back and this time he let her. Still glaring, she kept his gaze. “What do you want me to do?”

“I need you to get me something from that room over there,” he said, nodding his head to the right. Caretaker turned her head to follow his order and nodded.

She got to her feet quickly, speed walking over, but Whumper stopped her. “Don’t you want to know what?”

“Tell me when I’m there,” she spat, throwing the door open. Hanging from his wrists, covered in blood with a blindfold and a gag stood Whumpee. His head hanging on his chest. Caretaker covered her mouth with her hands and screamed into them, running in and putting her hands on his face.

“Whumpee! Whumpee! Can you hear me?!” She pressed her ear to his chest, sobbing when she heard his heartbeat. He was alive. He was alive, he was alive, he was alive, he was alive.

“You know,” Whumper drawled from behind her. “If you’re coming in guns blazing, you really should do a quick check to see if the thing you want is already there.”

“You tricked me,” Caretaker cried, turning her furious gaze to Whumper. Instead, her eyes found the barrel of a gun.

He smiled lazily. “Not at all, to be fair, breathing is hard when you’re strung up like that, you wouldn’t think it, but your arms squeeze your chest and make it harder to breathe, especially when you’re gagged and dangling.”

“You’re a bastard,” she hissed.

“Compliments don’t get you anywhere with me, Caretaker, but you’ll learn. Maybe the first thing I’ll do to you is leave you like Whumpee here, hmm?” He asked, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. Caretaker took a cautious step back, one arm stretched to protect Whumpee, keep him behind her.

“I don’t care what you do to me, just let him go.”

“Mmf?” Caretaker whirled to face Whumpee, eyes wide.

“Whumpee? Whumpee! Can you hear me?” She reached up and pushed the blindfold away from his eyes. “Whumpee. It’s me. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”

Whumpee’s eyes widened, flicking to Whumper and back to Caretaker again, struggling in his chains. Trying to speak behind the gag.

“Hold on, I’ll—”

She felt Whumper’s presence behind her and jumped, going to hit him but he grabbed her by the back of her neck and squeezed until she stopped struggling. Whumpee’s struggles increased tenfold, screaming into the gag as Whumper leaned down to Caretaker’s ear.

A smile in his voice as he said, “or maybe, I’ll just keep you both.”

[good-dog-bbu]

Good Dog Part One - The Only Offer You'll Get | BBU/BBU adjacent

Whumptober Day One - Race Against time / Day Eleven - Alt: Regret

Masterlist | Next

tws: foster system, future pet whump, future conditioning, dehumanisation (in a very small scale - number used instead of name), drugging

The date was the 18th of April. I had until the 2nd of May to find a job and a place to live.

It wasn't looking good.

I slouched in front of the tv, my cola in one hand and the remote in the other, annoyed.

That's one more for the fail list, I thought, feeling some of the dregs of hope left inside me drifting away. I considered tossing the remote at the tv, but decided against it with a sigh. It wasn't the tv's fault that no one would hire me, but it would definitely have made me feel better.

Fifteen rejection emails in the span of two days. Of the jobs I haven't heard from yet, many are outright ignoring me, their website proudly announcing that they've filled the gap without so much as a text to my phone.

It was typical, really. One alleged attempted murder five years ago - the charges of which were dropped, by the way - and no one even considers me.

A father in prison, a mother killed by a gang, ten years in the system and only about eight full years of formal education probably didn't look fabulous either.

But still! They could have at least given me the benefit of the doubt! Even just invited me to an interview to see that I wasn't a total raging lunatic.

But no, they took one look at my record and dismissed me out of hand.

The minivan came to a halt outside the house, heralding the return of the other kids from school. I groaned and switched off the tv to flip my laptop open again before Sarah could see I'd given up the hunt.

I was scrolling through a job site by the time the front door opened and the kids started pouring in.

There were five of us living here currently, though Sarah and Mike already had another kid lined up to replace me when I aged out in two weeks. Two of the other kids - a pair of boys - were still in primary, while the other two - a boy and a girl - were in high school.

"We're back!" Sarah called as she stepped through the door. "Alexa?" She stuck her head into the living room. "Still nothing?"

"No dice," I said, in an unbothered tone that normally wouldn't have fooled her for a second, but she was still too busy with the other kids to give me that kind of attention.

I reckoned she'd already written me off in her head.

Her only response was a distracted, "I'm sure something will come up," before she disappeared again to arrange snacks for the younger kids to last them until dinner.

Sam, the older boy, wanders in. "Are you still job hunting?" he asked, incredulous. I'd started on today's hunt before he'd even left for school.

"Surprisingly enough, there is still no one willing to take a chance on the crazy girl."

"Have you tried Tesco's?"

"I've tried McDonald's, Sam. Of course I've tried Tesco's."

He was silent for a second, watching my listless scrolling. I wasn't taking in any of the information on the page anymore. Finally, he announced, "The school's doing a careers fayre tomorrow, you should check there."

"Maybe." I didn't want to admit that I was this close to giving up entirely and committing to a life on the streets. Besides, I went to the school's careers fayres before I dropped out as soon as I turned sixteen. It was just full of people looking to get a day away from their mind-numbing jobs to convince kids to study the right degree so they could go into the same mind-numbing jobs. Considering I never even finished my GCSE's, I wasn't going to get into any uni's any time soon, so that was worthless to me.

But then again, it couldn't hurt to go, could it? If nothing else, it would be a break from doom-scrolling for a future, and there would be free food and stationary there. The words "free food" were usually all you needed to convince me to do something.

"Yeah, maybe I will go," I said, more to myself than to Sam.

"Cool," Sam said, then disappeared off to the kitchen to profit off of Sarah's snacks for the other boys.

I snapped my laptop shut again to join in on what promised to be a fun half an hour of using the same tricks over and over to distract the boys so I could steal crisps and grapes off their plates.

*

The next morning, I hitched a ride in the minibus from hell with the other kids. It's remarkable how loud a pair of primary-aged boys could be at eight o'clock in the morning.

The fayre was a whole day thing, so I didn't need to wait around for half the day beforehand. Finally, something going my way. It was set up on the massive sports field that could be and had been used for two simultaneous games of football side-by-side. Almost every inch of the grass was covered by a job stall or a food cart or a mobile cafe or one of many student-run information desks.

Most of the day... sucked. I approached every stall I thought I had a chance at and asked if they'd be willing to consider hiring me. After a brief back and forth, I eventually left each one with anything from a polite decline and well wishes, to outright laughter at my sheer nerve for wanting to survive.

Every stall I passed, whether I stopped to chat or not, I tucked a star-shaped highlighter or a clicky pen or a water bottle into the bag I brought, the bag that started out empty this morning. I would need anything I could get if I ended up on the streets.

The only truly good thing about the day was lunch - the food carts dotted among the stalls were expensive, of course, but Mike was a massive pushover; it was no effort to convince him to give me more than enough money. I paid for a large slice of pizza at one cart, and a mocha at a mobile cafe to soothe my sweet tooth. I then had enough cash left to buy a plate of chips to flick at the stalls that had rejected me, coaxing the seagulls and pigeons swooping around hopefully to divebomb them.

In my defense, that was funny. The birds are mostly harmless, they're just hungry. Hungry animals will do things they normally wouldn't for any scrap of food, thing they wouldn't have dreamed of before.

Finally, midway through the afternoon, I spotted a WRU stall. Curious, I moved closer.

The stall was decorated with pictures of men and women of all ages, shapes, sizes and colours, with collars around their necks and strained smiles on their faces. Pets. But in each photo, the pets weren't the focus of the scene. No, the spotlight went to the people standing beside them, of equal variety, but with far smarter, cleaner, wholer clothes and lacking the collars.

"Those are the handlers," the man behind the stall said, following my gaze. "They're the ones that train our pets."

I glanced at him, then took in the pamphlets on the table. They advertised every job the WRU offered: handlers, processing offers, recruiters, execs, medics, admins, secretaries.

I looked back up at the guy, "What qualifications would I need?"

"Well, that depends on the type of pets you'd be training. Much of your own training will be provided by WRU, but to have a greater chance of being hired, at least a bachelor's in psychology is preferable." He looked me up and down, before saying pointedly, "You also need to be able to manhandle a variety of pets, many of which may well be larger than you."

I took offense to that. I had the sort of build that some people would describe as "willowy". I usually preferred to go for "gangly", or even "wiry" if I was feeling particularly flattering. I was tall and skinny, with long blonde hair and the sort of blessed, unblemishable skin to match. Combined with my complete lack of any sort of helpful schooling, I could easily have been a textbook bimbo, except for my tendency to lash out, as I did now.

"What exactly makes you think you have the right to say that? You're so disgusting, trying to put me into a box like that. Just cause I'm pretty, doesn't mean I'm weak, you know. In fact, I bet I could take you right here and now!"

"That won't be necessary," he replied cooly. "Are you going to ask about another role or are you going to move on?"

Most people at least got slightly miffed by my dramatic explosions at the tiniest things, so this complete non-reaction blew the wind out of my sails, deflating me entirely.

I hated this guy.

Seething, I asked, "Do you have any roles that require no qualifications?" I was only half-joking.

The man raised an eyebrow. "Desperate, are you?"

"You have no idea."

He reached under the table and pulled out a new pamphlet, one that wasn't on the table, and held it out to me.

The header read, "Remove responsibility today! Become a pet and let someone else take the reins!"

I looked back up at him, disbelieving. "Really? Is this the best you have to offer? Becoming a pet?"

"Without qualifications, that's the only offer you're likely to get."

I bit my lip, hating that I was considering it, hating that I was that desperate. Surely I wouldn't actually go for it. Right? "And if I were to apply, what would be the chances of me getting the role?"

"Guaranteed."

"Right."

"WRU will provide full training, full room and board, as well as finding you employment once your training is complete."

"What, for free?" I found that incredibly hard to believe.

"Completely for free," the man told me. "You won't have to spend a penny."

"I'll just have to give up my freedom, is that it?"

"You're giving up responsibility," he corrected. "Even once your training is over, you'll still be provided with every essential you may need, and many prospectives have been known to give their pets gifts and amenities they merely want, but could get by without. Once you sign up, you'll never once again to worry about where your next meal is going to come from, or whether you'll have clean clothes to wear or not, or if you can afford medicine when you get sick. It'll all be taken care of."

Man, he did a really good job of making it sound appealing. I almost forgot that signing up would mean becoming little more or less than an animal.

But was that really worse than living on the streets? Was being a stray animal better than one with a home?

"What sort of training?" I asked, more to stall for time for my mind to come to a conclusion than anything else.

The man was starting to look even more bored than before. "That will depend on your designation. You'll be assessed when you arrive at our facility to determine what you'd be best suited for. WRU prides itself at placing all our pets in precisely the position where they're guaranteed to flourish the most."

I hesitated, trying to come up with another question, but he went on before I could.

"What's your name?"

"Alexa Nock."

"How old are you, Alexa Nock?"

"Seventeen years and fifty weeks."

He nodded. "So you'll be eighteen in two weeks."

"Wow, you're a regular mathmetician."

"That is a small enough difference that I'm sure the higher ups won't have any problem with it. If you would like to send a message to your loved ones, now's your chance. I'm leaving for the local facility in an hour so I can drop you off while I'm going anyway."

"I never said I wanted to accept!" I protested, incredulous.

"But you do want to. I can tell. You're desperate, and you know this is your only chance. I'd suggest you take it."

My hands clenched into fists, then released. Clenched, and released. Finally, with a growl, I pulled out my phone and texted Sarah.

"No need to collect me."

I didn't give any more explanation, and she probably wouldn't ask for it.

"Smart choice," the man said. "Come around here." He gestured to his side of the stall.

I frowned. "Why?"

"Just come here," he snapped, annoyed.

I crossed my arms. "Maybe if you ask nicely."

He looked at me like he wanted nothing more than to break my nose. The feeling was completely mutual.

"You want to survive this job? Here's a tip: when someone tells you to do something, you do it. No questions asked. Now come over here and I won't mention this to your handler when we get to the facility."

"Fine, whatever." I rolled my eyes and rounded the stall so I was standing right in front of him.

He moved faster than I would have imagined possible, grabbing one side of my neck and shoving something into the other side. Something small and sharp. A syringe.

Immediately, the world starting dimming, and my body got heavy.

"What did you... do...." I barely had time to get the weak question out before everything went dark.

*

Time seemed to move differently, after that. Like it wasn't real. Or like it was too real. Stopping and starting, moving faster and slower. Sometimes, the world was dark and silent. Sometimes it was loud and bright. I barely remembered anything in this fake-time.

I remembered someone asking my questions. I remembered being slapped and poked and dragged around. I remembered being curled up tighter than I should be able to. I remembered being so, so cramped.

I remembered a number.

601482.

*

The only time I remembered fully in the drugged up state was when I woke up before the final injection was given.

I was sat on a chair, chained to a table, a piece of paper covered in writing and a pen in front of me.

"Sign here," a voice said, and a finger pointed at a line on the paper.

"Wha' ish i'?" I slurred, not fully awake enough to properly control my mouth.

"Your contract. Sign."

So, not aware enough to fight, I signed. My signature was sloppy, and far bigger than I normally would have done it, and barely recognisable as mine, but it was there.

"And how do you feel?" the voice asked.

I mumbled some nonsense syllables, unable to come up with anything more concrete.

"I need an answer, 601482. How do you feel?"

I tried to focus on my body, which seemed so far away, but it was impossible to focus long enough to find any sure feeling. I could identify pain, though. I couldn't find where it was coming from, but I knew it was there.

So I answered, "Ow."

"Good enough."

Another sharp prick in my neck, and time stopped once again.

*

When I finally woke up fully, I was in a very small, completely bare room. There was no bed, no desk or chair or anything. The only things breaking up the stone walls and floor and ceiling were a metal door and a wooden bucket.

I was wearing clothes that were not my own: a short-sleeved white button-up and a pair of black shorts. Not shoes, not even underwear, I realised with horror.

But worst of all was the collar around my neck, thick and heavy. I reached up a hand to touch it, my horror growing. There was not even enough space between the collar and my neck for my pinky finger, and it was wrapped in wires.

A shock collar.

My whole body ached. A brief inspection revealed bruises all over my limbs, and I found a small plaster under the collar, probably covering the spot the drug went into each time.

For the first time I could remember, I truly regretted my decision.

I should have just waited out the week - anything would have been better than this, even living on the streets.

Now, all that was left to do was see what happened next.

[mshelley-art]

Putting some fun stuff together! 👀😁

Wildmutt from Ben 10: Race Against Time! Here’s the homework so far. I’ve been thoroughly enjoying doing these little studies and can’t wait to finish this piece! 🥰 Enjoy!

[beptocharmz]

The main cast in my good friends hunger games fanfic! I have been emotionally destroyed and torn apart from this fic. Please give it a read if you love hunger game and gay characters ☝️☝️<3

GO FOLLOW MY FRIEND!! @asanaquarian AND READ HIS FIC, RACE AGAINST TIME HERE !!

[cary-elwes]

[moonlightpirate]

Race against time

(I know I am a day late for this but yesterday I was busy)

Shanks is in trouble! Can Luffy get him to safety in time?

“Shanks your arm, it's my fault! It’s all my fault” Luffy wailed. 

“It’s only an arm. I’m just glad that you’re okay.” Shanks comforted the small boy as pain coursed through his body. He knew the amount of blood he was losing was not good but he had to remain strong for Luffy. “We should probably get you back before Makino worries.”.

“But how? I think the sea creature attacking us caused us to lose…….SHANKS!” Luffy shrieked as Shanks collapsed into the boat, “Come on Shanks wake up. You have to help us get to shore. Come on, I can't do this by myself.” He started to sob as panic set in.

Unfortunately his devil fruit powers were useless here. What could he do? The shore was so far away and Shanks was dying. Desperately he looked around the dingy hoping to find anything useful but it was just him and Shanks. Luffy succumbed to his emotions and curled up in a ball and began to sob. If only he could stretch far enough to get them both to shore. After several moments of crying Luffy had a thought. It sounded strange to even him but it was the only thing he could think of that could save Shanks. He took his shirt off and quickly peeled the shirt off of Shanks. Luffy tried to not look at the blood that was still gushing from his arm. Once he had the shirt off of Shanks he tied the two shirts together as tightly as he could. 

“This is crazy Shanks. But I hope it works because I need to get you to shore now.” Luffy attempted to reassure himself before stretching his arms high up in the air.

He pulled the shirts wide open and hoped that maybe he could catch a breeze like a sail and be pushed to shore. Luffy waited and waited for what felt like hours for his idea to work. He kept his arms in the air until he couldn’t hold them up anymore. 

“I am sorry Shanks, I have failed you.” Luffy finally gave in as his arms fell to his side. He curled back up into a ball in the bottom of the boat sobbing.

“Don’t think you’ve failed him. Had you not been waving your flag about we never would have been able to find you.” An all to familiar voice called out.

“Benn? Is that you? Are you really here to save us?”

“We are indeed and by the looks of it we are right on time. Captain has lost a lot of blood.” Yassop responded by hopping into the dingy. 

Luffy watched as Yassop worked quickly to at least stall Shanks' bleeding. Once he was certain that Shanks was stable, he and Benn worked together to lift Shanks up to the boat they had sailed in on. Luffy clambered into the boat behind them. Wasting no time they dropped the sails and got the boat to the shore quickly.

“He needs medical attention immediately.” Yassop stated.

“I’m aware of that. But I’m not sure who we can trust the captain with on this island.” Benn snapped.

“Is Y/n still around? Or has she left? If she’s here she can work miracles I’ve seen it.”.

“Well go find out! I will take him to that motel behind the bar send her there.” Benn growled.

Yassop disappeared into the setting sun in a desperate search for you. Luffy watched as Benn carried Shanks away terrified if his friend would really die or if they would find you in time. 

[emtb319]

Sorry for my absence as of late, I got a teensy bit distracted by writing. My 1st of 3 stories for Whumptober has been posted on AO3.

[teine-mallaichte]

Day 1 @whumptober - Race Against The Clock

Claire tries to keep Jess alive while waiting for rescue.

CW: injury, living weapons, building collapse, war, ambigious ending.

Whumptober List Complex 27

“Stay with me, Jess,” Claire urged, as she pressed her palm firmly against Jess's wound. A fresh wave of panic washed over her as she felt the warm liquid slowly spreading through her fingers. “You need to hold on for me. Please.”

The building had never been meant to collapse; it had been deemed stable, safe. But in a world ravaged by war, nothing was truly secure. Dust swirled in the stale air, mingling with the metallic tang of blood and concrete. Claire squinted into the dimness, her heart pounding as she strained to hear any sign of their teammates. She could just make out the muffled voices of Ben and Matt, desperately searching for them.

“Claire! Jess!” The sound of Ben's voice pierced through the thick silence, filled with urgency. Hope flickered within Claire, a fragile light fighting against the shadows of despair, but the gnawing doubt in her gut threatened to extinguish it.

“Can you hear them?” Claire asked, shifting slightly to apply more pressure to the wound, “They’re coming for us. They’ll get us out.”

In the chaos of the building's collapse, Claire had lost her medical bag, her lifeline. All she could do now was maintain pressure on the wound and keep Jess awake, forcing herself to swallow the panic clawing at her throat. Each second felt like an eternity, every heartbeat echoing in her ears as she fought to stay focused. The last vestiges of control gnawed at her—she had to do something, anything, to help Jess, but uncertainty closed in around her.

Jess’s eyes fluttered open, the once vibrant depths now clouded. A faint, trembling smile crossed her lips, “I… can’t feel my legs,” she admitted. The tremor in her voice was a dagger to Claire's heart.

Claires chest tightened, a painful reminder that she wasn’t meant to get attached; her training demanded cold indifference. Her fellow assets were meant to be nothing more than tools to be patched up, maintained, and kept 'functional.' But that was before she had formed a team, before she had learned to see beyond her training and embrace the bonds that had developed between them.

As the building crumbled and time slipped away, desperation rose within Claire. She had lost her medical bag in the chaos of the building collapse, leaving her with only her instincts and a flickering hope. All she could do now was maintain pressure on Jess's wound, keeping her awake and conscious while battling the tide of darkness threatening to pull her under.

“Keep talking to me, Jess,” Claire urged, her voice steadier than she felt.

As the tremors of fear coursed through her, Claire fought back tears. She could hear the distant echoes of Ben and Matt, their voices mingling with the sounds of debris shifting around them. Muffled cries reminded Claire they weren’t alone and still had a chance, but that chance felt as fragile as a flickering candle in a storm.

“Just keep breathing, Jess,” Claire whispered, her heart racing as she pressed harder against the wound, the blood warm and sticky beneath her hands. “Ben! Matt! This way!” she yelled, her voice breaking slightly as she fought to project strength.

The echo of her voice bounced off the collapsed walls, fading into the oppressive silence. Claire could feel the darkness creeping closer, wrapping around her heart with icy fingers, threatening to extinguish the hope they had left. But she couldn’t afford to succumb. Not now, not when Jess needed her the most.

“Please,” Claire murmured, her voice low and fierce. “You have to hold on. I won’t let you go.”

Claire’s grip tightened on Jess’s wound, forcing back the fear that threatened to swallow her whole. “Stay with me, Jess. Just a little longer. They’re coming. I promise.”

“I don’t… I don’t want to die here,” Jess whispered, a tear escaping from the corner of her eye.

“You’re not going to die,” Claire said fiercely, her own tears threatening to spill.

A muffled thud echoed above them, followed by the sound of debris shifting. Claire's breath caught in her throat. “Jess, can you hear that?”

“I don’t… I don’t want to die here,” Jess whispered, a tear escaping from the corner of her eye.

More muffled sounds came from above, "Claire! Jess! We're coming," Ben's voice rang out more clearly now.

Claire's heart raced at the sound of Ben's voice, a lifeline in the overwhelming darkness that surrounded them. “They’re close, Jess! Just hold on a little longer. Please.”

A booming sound echoed above, and suddenly the rubble began to shift. Light broke through, illuminating the space around them. Claire looked up to see Ben, his face looking uncharacteristicly panicked.

“Jess is hurt!” Claire shouted, trying to keep the tremor from her voice. “I need help! Now!”

As she spoke, a wave of dust cascaded down from above, momentarily obscuring her view. Claire coughed, instinctively pulling Jess closer, shielding her as best as she could. The world around them felt fragile, as if any sudden movement could bring the ceiling crashing down once more.

“Hang on, we’re almost there!” Matt’s voice joined Ben’s, and Claire’s heart soared with hope, even as dread lingered in her gut. She focused on Jess, whose breaths were growing shallower, a faint rise and fall that seemed to grow weaker with each passing second.

“Hold on, Jess. You’re doing so well,” Claire encouraged, forcing her own voice to remain steady despite the chaos unfolding above them. “Just hold on,” she repeated quietly, though she didn’t know to whom the command was meant - whether to Jess, to herself, or to the fading hope that still flickered in the shadows.

@whumptober | @whumptober-archive

[melanatedmedia2]

Descendants: The Rise of Red - A Nostalgic Reunion with a New Twist!

Check out my latest blog post: "Descendants: The Rise of Red - A Nostalgic Reunion with a New Twist!" Fans of the franchise won't want to miss this unique take on the beloved characters. Let me know your thoughts!

[evilhorse]

The Flash One:Minute:War Special #1

[klaustopia]

That one morning where I never switched off my television after watching porn and I hear few gentle (no) knocks on the door:

[theversevoyager]

In the realm of Elyria, where magic and mystery intertwine, two powerful sorcerers stood at odds. The once-harmonious balance of light and darkness was shattered as tensions rose. Whispers of betrayal and deceit filled the air, leaving all to wonder who held the truth. A cryptic message led to a hidden chamber, where the key to salvation or doom lay buried. Time ticked away as they raced to solve the riddle, each step drawing them closer to the heart of the conflict. In that moment, it was clear - one must fall for the other to rise. But who? And at what cost?

[eampro-blog]

Writing Prompt #71 Des·o·late

[The Earth is collapsing in on itself. Scientists estimate that humans have only 5 years left. However, man was able to rip a hole through reality and everyone was able to slip on through with a dimension vehicle. The only problem is, you missed your scheduled car and now you're stuck.]

Write a short story based on the writing prompt. Challenge your writing abilities and see where your imagination takes you. Brainstorm and share your thoughts to where the story could go.

[gearldinekuetherblog]

[tama-the-toe]

What If Florida Had Its Own Olympics?