#Whumptember 2023 day 10

[its-my-whump]

Phone call 

TW: emotional whump, emotional loss, assault

She was gorgeous. Her open smile, her laugh, her silky hair, her green eyes, her soft lips. She was funny, honest, intelligent. His life was better, when she was around.

They had kissed. It was their first real date, after dancing around each other for weeks and they had actually kissed.

He felt like a teenager again, butterflies and all. It was a real date, old school. He invited her to dinner, picked her, they shared a dessert, real sassy. He brought her home, walked her to the front door and cliché or not, they kissed for the first time.

He could embrace the world. He hadn't been this happy in ages. The tall man steered his truck towards home, happily smiling to himself. The streets were empty. Yes, it was a first date, but they weren't 15 anymore and there was no curfew at ten. So it was late.

The big wheels of his vehicle rolled over still warm asphalt from a sunny day in June and finally came to a stop in his driveway.

He was so happy, his feet practically hovered him inside. His house was dark. Maybe for the first time in so long, is wasn't a frightening darkness meant for hiding. It almost felt like the silence of the night was a place to linger and enjoy the warm summer night, because life was worth living.

He made his way inside, switched on the lights and reactived the alarm just after closing the front door. Tonight, this house wasn't disturbing him, the atmosphere wasn't able to eat him up as so often. Tonight he felt free.

He went for the fridge and got a beer. The positive wibe of his date let him still float on cloud numbre nine. The TV flickered on and he settle onto his comfy coach, shoes out and feet already up on the coffeetable. It was a rerun of last nights game. He already knew the scoure, but hadn't seen the game.

Nevertheless during the break after the first quarter he dozed off. At the end of the fourth quarter his phone shocked him awake. 'Who the hell would call at this hour and why hadn't he muted it?' Jumped through his head. A quick glance at the clock told him it was half past 2 am on a saturday night, or sunday morning for that matter.

Maybe she was already yarning for him. He definitely was for her. A slight smile hijacked his face.

But it wasn't his mobile on the coffeetable, that had violently charmed him out of his slumber, it was his landline. Still half asleep he made his way over.

The receiver had hardly reached his ear, when he barked into it. "Yeah?"

"Hello." The voice on the other side was speaking matter of factly, not waiting for a response. "Do you remembered the ice cream flavour, we talked about. It was recently delivered to your local 7/11. You should hurry or you'll miss it."

The line went dead. He had the receiver still in his left hand, standing by the counter dumbstruck. A few seconds passed without a movement and then his mind started racing, as his heart did. "Fuck!" Jumped out of his mouth. Panic flared up and his body jolted into action. The receiver went back on the cradle. He ran towards his bedroom, yanked open his closet and scattered clothers over the floor until he could reach a black travel bag on the upper shelf. It was already packed.

He crawled into said closet and pulled out a small safe hidden under junk and a handfull of shoes for every occasion. Hectically he punched in a six digit code. The electric beaping of every numbre and the safe unlockung finally predominated the pounding of his frantic heartbeat in his ears.

He grabbed for a Glock, a stage of bills and an ID. A magazine went into the gun. A pair of combat boots directly in front of him found their way onto his feet in lightning speed. The gun was holstered in the waistband and he put the money and ID into the pockets of his pants. An additional jacket was stuffed into his travelbag.

He shouldered the bag and got his mobile from the coffeetable. A last pityful look on its black display. He had finally been happy again. He had just fallen in love, but apparently this wasn't meant to be, as always. He would never see her gorgeous smile again. Never touch her soft skin again. Never kiss her again. 'Goddammit!' He opened the cover of the devise, pulled out the simcard and broke it in two. Everything ended up on the floor and he crushed it with his heavy boots. His expression had settled into an emotionless mask and he made for the backdoor, not bothering to switch off the TV.

After disarming the security system he approached his car from the dark backyard. The driverside door squeaked quietly and the buffers made a distinct sound, when he settle behind the steering wheel. The engine awoke.

'He had 2 years. 2 good years and he needed to fall in love just today. Or more, apparently they needed to find him exactly today, of all days. Witness protecting, my ass.' He thought. 'Somedays, he believed it would have been better, when they had just ended it then. So he hadn't had to live this life on the run. So he didn't need to be longing for a normal life, a family, children, a dog and a white picket fence.'

His fist hit the rim of the steering wheel. He took a deep breath to force his feelings down. 'Feelings only get you killed. Or they will get the one's you feel for killed.' His hand went for the shifter ball.

Suddenly cold steel touched the back of his neck. He froze, the hairs on his neck and arms suddenly standing formation, his hand still in midair, his heart apparently trying to jump out of his chest, while the air got caught inside his lungs.

"You missed me, Sonny?"

The handle went down on the side of his head with a dull sound and darkness took him.

My whumptember2023 masterlist

[hurtmyfavsthanks]

Whumptember day 10

“What are you doing to them?” Brainwashed | Hanging from their wrists | Phone call

It felt like their brain was vibrating. All they could hear or feel was an endless buzzing, like all their atoms were trying to pull apart from one another. It was overwhelming, muffling any sensations from the outside world. They couldn't hear, they couldn't think. Their brain was vibrating.

It’d hurt, before. Or they thought it had. They couldn’t remember much before the buzzing had started, but they remembered struggling against the feeling. Had they fought because it hurt? Because it was bad? They didn't remember.

They didn’t struggle now. They didn’t know how, when the entire world was vibrating.

It was like bees had taken residence in their skull; not to harm it, but to reshape it. Everything useless was tossed away, the gaping holes being filled with honey. They’d fought to stop it, but then the memory of why they were fighting had been drowned in sticky sweetness.

It was dizzying and disorienting, it put their teeth on edge, but they didn’t know if it hurt. They couldn’t know anything, not when their brain was vibrating.

They heard voices somewhere outside of their hive they’d become, distant and nearly drowned out.

“What…what is this? What are you doing to them?”

“Hero, you’re aware of our reformation project, yes? Villain is our first patient.”

Just barely, they could hear the voices approaching.

“I–So you’re what, brainwashing them? Is this ethical? Does it hurt?”

Yes, the thought bubbled through the buzzing, it does, please it–

”No, not at all. It’s entirely painless.”

–doesn’t hurt? No, it doesn’t, but didn’t it before? They weren’t sure anymore. The question was being thrown away alongside the other trash, swallowed up and drowned out. They quickly lost hold of it.

Something touched a distant part of their body, and it took a long moment for them to realize they were more than their buzzing skull. Something had been holding their arms aloft, and with a click, it released. They nearly fell forward without the support, but something wrapped around their face held them up, pulling at their scalp.

“Villain, can you hear me? It’s Hero,” The voice was back, closer, but still muffled by the chaos in their mind. It felt like the voice reminded them of something, but they didn’t know. The part of their brain that had known had been scooped out and replaced, leaving barely the shape of a memory.

Something clicked, the noise echoing in the mind, and the buzzing sharpened. They shivered at the sensation of their brain finally sitting still, the see of static shifting into an organized effort.

“Stand up,” The voice wasn’t muffled by the noise, it was the noise. The vibration was shaped by the words, speaking with power that they felt in their bones.

It was a relief, and they chased after that peace. They stood on legs they hardly remembered they had.

Something was moving on their head, whatever had been wrapped around their skull being removed. The world exploded into color, the change taking them a moment to adjust to. When they opened their eyes, two figures stood before them.

The vibrating was already coming back, their moment of peace fading. But then one of the figures clicked a button they held in their hands, and everything sharpened.

“Tell me, who are you and what do you want?”

They hadn’t known the answer seconds ago. They still didn’t know, and yet the truth formed in their mind. After the disorientating chaos, the confidence they felt at their answer was a comfort.

And outside of the angry hive Villain’s mind had become, Hero watched, a horrified onlooker, as their former foe’s face split with a vacant, dull-eyed smile.

“My name is Sidekick, and I want to help you in any way possible.”

[whumpers-monthly]

Whump calendar 2023

Attention: I will delete the prompts in all the months except December next month to make room for next year. If you want to save the whump calendar 2023 you should do it now. Also check out my new blog @whumpcalendar where I will post the calendar from now on.

So I made a calendar and @thewhumpyprintingpress made a checklist for all whump events. Let us know if you're hosting an event so that we can add you.

All events under the cut.

So far we've got:

Whumpers-monthly by @whumpers-monthly One prompt every month.

2023 Year of Whump by @soheavyaburden A prompt can either be filled each week or each month, runs the whole year.

January: Whumpuary by @whumpuary 10 sets of prompts

February: Febuwhump by @febuwhump

March: March Trope-A-Thon by @amonthofwhump 7 days of prompts

April: Whumpril by @whumpril

May: Whumpay by @whumpay Mediwhump May by @mediwhumpmay

July: Whumpmas in July by @whumpmasinjuly

September: Whumptember by @whumptember Sicktember by @sicktember

October: AI-less whumptober by @ailesswhumptober Angstober by @angstober Whumptober by @whumptober

November: Comfortember by @comfortember

December: Whumpcember by @whumpcember 12 Days of Whumpmas by @whumpmas 12 sets of prompts Winter Whumperland by @amonthofwhump 1 - 12 of December Hurtcember by @hurtcember Merry Whumpmas by @whumpishprompts

We will add all the other blogs as soon as the promptlists are available.

[whumble-beeee]

Whumptember 2023, Day 11

“There’s nothing else I can do”

Last resort | Character death | Medical whump

The Bee’s Whumptember Masterlist

~1490 words

CW: probably wrong medical procedure based on my own limited medical training and experience, wishing for death, blood, implied knife wounds, technical medical talk, mentioned past torture, brainwashed whumpee, medical malpractice (but the good kind ig?), needles

(Continued from Day 10: What Are You Doing To Them. Turns out Detective does save Whumpee after all. kinda. heh.)

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

Where… where was Whumpee? This was all much too white, much too bright. New noises pounded on their eardrums. Weren’t they supposed to be dead? Hanging limply by their wrists, crimson red blotting out their dark flesh so that it was practically a second skin? So good and pretty for Whumper, because they couldn’t struggle anymore and couldn’t be entertaining anymore, so dead was the only way Whumpee could make Whumper happy? They were supposed to be dead. They wanted to be. That was the only way they could be useful now.

Something was poking and prodding at them. Multiple somethings, multiple someones. Whumpee shifted uncomfortably and tried to move away, only to find they couldn’t. Straps. They were strapped to a bed, and the bed was jostling around. Nothing too out of the ordinary. Every slight movement exacerbated their dizziness. 

Had Whumper decided to keep them alive after all? Maybe this was just some new form of torture. That must be why Whumper put some sort of face mask on them. Poison, maybe. Whumpee would gladly take it. Even if their wounds made them so, so weak, even if the bright lights made them want to scream, even if they could barely feel what was happening to their body, even if the flurry of movement around them confused them, especially the agonizing poking and prodding. 

Even if some dark horrible part of their heart fluttered because maybe, just maybe, Whumpee was being saved. If only… No, no, Whumpee didn’t want to be saved. Whumpee wanted to please Whumper and be good for them. That was their only job in life.

Was Whumper even here? They usually liked to talk while torturing Whumpee.

No, Whumpee was good. Whatever Whumper wanted, Whumpee would do, even if this wasn’t their usual style. They would take it because they had to, and they wanted to. They wanted to. They would always take it, always, always, always, always, always…

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

Detective frantically patted Whumpee’s cheek, and their eyelids twitched open again. Barely. One of the EMTs shoved Detective out of the way with an understandably authoritative “Move,” and got to work wiping off a staggering amount of crimson just from the crook of Whumpee’s elbow. They quickly placed and taped down the IV before readjusting the oxygen mask on Whumpee’s face for the third time, as the other EMT worked on staunching the blood endlessly gushing from the various gaping gashes and stab wounds all over their body. 

“They’re losing too much blood, tourniquet and elevate the limbs more and focus on stitching and pressure on the torso and head.”

Detective leaned back into the corner as much as they could. They almost wished they hadn’t climbed into the ambulance. They almost wished they’d listened as the personnel yelled at them to get out, before Detective’s determined glare and crossed arms made them decide it wasn’t worth trying to force Detective out when time was already a very precious and very quickly dwindling resource. Almost. 

They smiled to themself, despite everything. If nothing else, even if Whumpee didn’t end up pulling through, at least they had made that sick sadist pay. A mist of red spraying to the walls. A second bullet. That was all Detective could have wanted.

Whumpee shuddered on the gurney, momentarily thrashing under their restraints before falling still again.

“Don’t they need blood?” Detective called, jarred out of their thoughts. They started taking a mental tally of all visible wounds again. “They lost so much, and we don’t even know–”

“Yes, they do,” EMT1 interrupted, not looking up from their tourniquet. “We don’t have any, they’ll get it at the hospital.”

Detective sputtered. “They’re not gonna make it to the hospital! We’re in the middle of nowhere, it’s gonna take–”

“Look,” EMT1 spun on Detective. “We can’t do anything about it, or else we would! Now stay out of the way or I’ll have you thrown out of the damn vehicle.”

 They harshly tied off the tourniquet and moved to the next one. Then their face softened again. Just slightly. “We want them alive just as much as you...”

“I’m a universal donor!” Detective pleaded. “O negative! Take my blood!”

EMT1 paused and stared at Detective before remembering themself, shaking their head out and continuing to fuss over a particularly nasty gash. “Absolutely not, we can’t know that for sure, we can't test it, not to mention the malpractice suit alone would–”

“Shit!” The other EMT called suddenly. “Heart stopped beating, beginning compressions! Two, three, four…” They started pushing into Whumpee's chest before they even fully finished the sentence. The one chewing Detective out dashed to grab the AED machine, slammimg the two pads onto Whumpee’s chest around their partner's working hands, before rushing to the side of Whumpee’s head, tipping their head up and preparing to give life-saving breaths.

“Hey!” EMT1 yelled out to Detectives. “Come here and work the AED, it’ll prompt you on everything you need to do–” EMT2 finished their thirty compressions, and EMT1 stopped their orders to give two full breaths into the mask. Whumpee’s chest rose and fell with each breath before falling still again. EMT2 continued their compressions. EMT1 dashed across the cabin to press on the wounds again. ”--and make sure to yell ‘clear’ when it’s scanning AND when a shock is advised and then press the button–”

“They’re back!” EMT2 yelled again, ear pressed closely to Whumpee’s mouth and two fingers on the carotid artery. “Pulse weak as measured at the beginning, breathing normal. Continue as we were, and pay close attention to vitals!”

EMT1 froze, chest heaving shakily. “Okay, okay, nevermind, uh, go back to the corner…”

“Please, I’m O negative, I can help,” Detective begged. “They’re not gonna make it–”

EMT1 reeled on them, eyes fiery and wet, practically shaking, holding tense hands in front of themself placatingly as if they wanted nothing more than to grab Detective by the throat and hurl them out of the ambulance.

“We cannot give an emergency blood transfusion with your blood!” they yelled, breath ragged, whipping their hand up to silence Detectives protests. “We can’t verify the blood type, and if you’re wrong, they will die, and that’s not even touching on the amount of malpractice I’d be committing. There’s nothing I can do to–”

“Oh, lay off and just do it,” EMT2 called out from the other side of the gurney, pressing a cloth into Whumpee’s stomach wounds. “Guy’s a detective, they know their blood type, and you and I both know that the patient’s heart still somehow beating is one in a billion.” 

They reached across Whumpee to grab their partner's arms and press them down onto the cloth so they could grab something from the cabinets, snapping at Detective to do the same, and Detective fell in right next to EMT1. 

“We’re also what, twenty minutes away from the hospital? The will of God themself couldn’t keep this patient alive for that long without a transfusion.” They nodded to the blood still steadily pooling onto the floor, covering all their shoes in a dark crimson, soaking through the bottoms of their pants with a morbid stickiness.

EMT1 stared at Whumpee, searching over their frail frame as if the answers to their life were going to be etched onto Whumpee’s skin. Only different etchings, cuts, and deep purple and black bruises could be found, standing out brilliantly against Whumpee’s practically gray skin. They turned their eyes desperately to their partner, then Detective, then their partner again. “Do it. I’ll continue care until blood can be administered. If this doesn’t work, it's on your ass.”

“Always is,” EMT2 muttered with a jarring laugh. They beckoned Detective over as their partner worked in a flurry behind them, quickly tying a tight rubber tourniquet around Detective’s upper arm. “Try to keep still, lean on the wall. Get some water from the sink, too. You’re absolutely sure you’re a universal donor?”

EMT2 grabbed them by the elbow and shoved the needle into the vein without waiting for a response. Detective swallowed. “I’ve done this before. Never been more sure in my life.”

EMT2 nodded as they finished, rushing away to help with Whumpee again just as thick blood suctioned up through the thin tube and into the waiting blood bag. Detective was already starting to feel a bit woozy. Great time to remember their fear of needles.

They forced their gaze away from the slowly filling bag, over to Whumpee lying half dead on the gurney with the EMTs rushing around them, patching them up with practiced precision. They watched with baited breath each time their chest rose and fell, hoping the next one wouldn’t be their last. Up, down, up, down. Don’t pass out. Then back to the blood draw kit, sucking out the lifesaving liquid from Detective so it could continue its journey in Whumpee.

God, this had better work.

@whumptember

[astaldis]

Friends - Chapter 9 (The Witcher TV)

Chapters: 9/10

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach & Fringilla Vigo, Francesca Findabair | Enid an Gleanna & Fringilla Vigo

Additional Tags: Whump, Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach Whump, Major Character Injury, Sickfic, Fever, Fever Dreams, Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach Has a Bad Time, Blood Loss, Blood and Injury, Fringilla has motherly feelings, Friendship, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Cahir is a wet paper towel, Suicidal Thoughts, Mental Breakdown, Guilt, Resurfacing Past, Nightmares, Aftereffects of Torture, Headaches & Migraines, Trauma, Panic Attack, Whumptober 2023, Whumptember 2023, August Whump Week

Summary: Cahir is badly injured and missing after his fight with the Scoia'tael on Thanedd island. Fortunately he has a good friend in Fringilla. Inspired by Whump Week in August, Whumptember and Whumptober prompts.

Excerpt from chapter 9: 

Cahir rests all day and drinks copious amounts of willow bark tea. Fringilla checks on him regularly and keeps him company for long stretches of time. Nevertheless, his migraine does not show the slightest inclination to get better, the contrary. By evening his head pounds and throbs like it is going to burst any second, every movement, every sound hurts like hell and even the dim light in the shelter feels as if it wanted to burn holes into his retina whenever Cahir as much as opens his eyes just a tiny crack. The pain is so bad that he moans and whimpers almost incessantly although he tries not to. To Fringilla's chagrin she cannot even hold his hand or pat his shoulder as the lightest of touches seems to cause him more pain.

"I'm getting Francesca, maybe she can help," Fringilla finally decides, genuinely worried about her friend. Cahir wants to object but the only sound that passes his lips is another groan. He wishes it were otherwise, but he knows from experience that there is nothing the elven sorceress could possibly do. In Cintra several healers tried their skills and their luck but to no avail. No potion, amulet, incense, massage or whatever else they prescribed and administered made any difference. Staying in bed and enduring the pain until it passes by itself after a few hours - or an entire day when it is an especially vicious migraine - is the single one thing he can do. Only as of late the migraines seem to be getting worse and more frequent. Like his visions and dreams of the princess ...

Continue reading on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49262185/chapters/125761576

[bluegreenamber]

Whumptember 2023 Masterlist

Since I'm mostly posting my fics on Ao3 now and only really cross-posting them here for BTHB, I've decided that a masterlist with links to my Ao3 works would be simpler for Whumptember 2023 (partly because I actually understand Ao3's tagging and warning system, which are crucial to the event). Also, since I'm combining Whumptember prompts with the remaining prompts from my BTHB card, I'll still post the fics fulfilling BTHB on Tumblr, but all of the remaining Whumptember fics will just be linked on this masterlist.

Here is a link to my Whumptember 2023 series on Ao3 that has more info about how I'm tackling this writing challenge. Links to individual fics are under the cut and will be updated as I post. As always, I hope you enjoy!

Day 1: The Hubris of Our Forefathers

Day 2*: Like an Answered Prayer ch. 1

Day 3*: Between the Shoulder Blades ch. 1

Day 4: Blood of My Blood ch. 1

Day 5: One Foot In

Day 6: Blood of My Blood ch. 2

Day 7*: Blood of My Blood ch. 3

Day 8*: Between the Shoulder Blades ch. 2

Day 9*: Between the Shoulder Blades ch. 3

Day 10*: Like an Answered Prayer ch. 2

Day 11*: Lavender Tea

Day 12*: Home and Bodies

Day 13*: Talking Ghosts

Day 14*: To Steal and Steel a Heart

Day 15*: Absence and Adhesion

Day 16*: When the Caught Fly Spins a Web of Its Own

Day 17: Between the Shoulder Blades ch. 4

Day 18*: Between the Shoulder Blades ch. 5

Day 19: How to Play a Pair of Kings

Day 20: Empty Isn't Nothing

Day 21*: Like an Answered Prayer ch. 3

Day 22*: Between the Shoulder Blades ch. 6

Day 23*: Quicksand

Day 24: Living Metamorphosis

Day 25: Like an Answered Prayer ch. 4

Day 26*: Bury Us Together

Day 27*: Fading Visions of Grandeur

Day 28*: Between the Shoulder Blades ch. 7

Day 29*: We Were Out of Time

Day 30: Between the Shoulder Blades ch. 8

*Days demarcated with an asterisk also fulfill my BTHB card prompts and can be found on Tumblr and Ao3

[whumble-beeee]

Whumptember 2023, Day 10

“What are you doing to them?”

Brainwashed | Hanging from their wrists | Phone call 

The Bee’s Whumptember Masterlist

~900 words

CW: Frank talk of future character murder, tazer (but no tazing, funnily enough), blood, sadistic whumper, brainwashed whumpee

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

Whumpee had long since given up trying to support their own weight. It’s not like the expended effort would do anything for them except tire them out even more, make their wrists blister and bleed until the shiny red tracks of blood crisscrossed down their arms and around bruised skin and swollen flesh, aggravate their already barely functional shoulder muscles as they screamed out to be freed of the burden of bearing Whumpee’s entire weight. These days, energy was a woefully scarce commodity. It couldn’t be wasted on pointless endeavors like struggling.

Whumper suddenly stopped messing with their taser, crossing their arms over their chest and looking Whumpee up and down with narrowed eyes. They clicked their tongue. “You know what? You’re starting to get really boring.”

Whumpee half opened their eyes and pulled the edges of their mouth back, as if asking what Whumper wanted them to do about it. Sure, it was great when Whumper was happy, even if it came at the cost of Whumpee’s mind, body, and soul, but it wasn’t Whumpee’s fault that they weren’t responsive enough. Whumper should have taken better care of his toy if they didn’t want them to break. And Whumpee was already so far beyond broken.

“Mm, yeah…” Whumper nodded to themself, clicking their tongue again and resting their chin on their fingers, as if deep in thought. “Looks like time’s just about up for you... Might be time to let you go.”

Whumpee quirked their head up, as much as they could with their arms wrenched above them, practically holding their head in a vice. Let them go? The idea that Whumper would ever do something as merciful as letting them go made Whumpee’s eye’s go wide. Whumper was many things, but merciful, caring, any other positive adjective, really, was not one of them.

Whumper practically doubled over with laughter at Whumpee's stupid little facial expression. “Oh! Oh, no, not like that, you stupid waste of space!” Whumper could barely get out the full sentence through their hysterics. “No, no I mean like, the other let you go. Y’know, like,” Whumper raised their taser and slammed it in Whumpee’s head in an unmistakable stabbing motion, slamming Whumpee once, twice, three times, more, until Whumpee was seeing stars and their head was spinning wildly. They swung back and forth slowly on the chain wrenching their wrists toward the heavens, breath shuddering through their teeth, new blood caking on top of old.

“Like that,” Whumper continued nonchalantly. “But with a real knife, y’know. Or we could do something else, I don’t have to stab you in the head. That might be too hard to do anyway…” They paused, as if lost in thought again, before flipping their hands down, shooing the thought away. “Whatever, we’ll see where the vibe takes us.” 

Whumper’s eyes suddenly lit up with a new idea, and Whumpee felt a cold snake of fear slithering and squeezing its way through their usual need to please, choking them out with useless thoughts of fear and survival. “And now that I don’t have to hold back, we can really have some fun, right? I’ve always wanted to try an upright vivisection…” They lightly traced the prongs of the taser gently down Whumpee’s cut-riddled stomach, leaving prickly gooseflesh in its wake. 

No, no, no, this was all wrong. Whumpee wasn’t supposed to think any of those pesky thoughts like ‘I don’t want to die’ or ‘please stop’ or ‘get AWAY from me!’ They lived to make Whumper happy, and if it made Whumper happy to kill them, then that’s what Whumpee would do. Die. For Whumper. It’s what they were for…

So why were they suddenly so scared?! Why did they want to scream and cry and beg for Whumper to ‘Please! God! No, don’t! Stop!’ Why were they dreaming of someone bursting through to door and looking at Whumper in absolute horror and yelling “What are you doing to them?!” and whisking Whumpee away to safety while whispering sweet nothings, somewhere Whumper couldn’t hurt them ever again. Or kill them. That wasn’t right of Whumpee. They were there to make Whumper happy. That’s it. 

Except… If Whumpee was dead, would Whumper be able to be happy anymore? Whumpee wouldn’t be there anymore, so who else could make Whumper happy? Maybe if Whumpee just… pointed that out…

No. Whumpee did as Whumper wanted. If Whumper told them to die, then they would. No questioning it. No trying to change it. Besides, they were too tired to try anything anyway. Right?

Whumper was prancing to the door when Whumpee finally came back to themself. “I’ll go get my tools!” They called as they slammed open the door. They then noticed the taser still in their hand and pelted it at Whumpee. Whumpee cringed away from the flying object as it struck them in the chest. “BRB, and stay there!”

Whumpee didn’t know how or where they would go even if they wanted to (which they DIDN’T). Besides, they were good for Whumper. So they stayed dutifully there, arms aching painfully above their head, toes barely touching to floor, and trying not to acknowledge their speeding heart and shallow breaths as they waited for Whumper to return for the last time.

@whumptember

[whumble-beeee]

The Bee's Whumptober Masterlist

* * * * 2023 * * * *

I'm doing Whumptober too! Woo! I'll do my best to do as much as I can (I say as I'm starting 6 days late lol), but I'll try not to push myself as much as I did last month, since I burnt out just a bit last month. It was fun tho, so I'm trying again. Think of Whumptember as a warm up, or test run. I'm so excited I get to share my writing with everyone again, and as always, I can't promise it'll be good, but I promise I enjoyed writing it!

Day 6: Recording | Made to Watch | “It should have been me.”

Day 7: Alleyway | Radio Silence (sketch)

Day 8: “I’ve got soul, but I’m not a soldier.” | Overcrowded ER | Outnumbered

Day 10: “Can’t you see that you’re lost without me?" | Broken Phone | Stranded

Day 14: Flare | Water Inhalation | “Just hold on.”

* * * * 2024 * * * *

Back at it again! Gonna go for completionist! No prep and I have less time this year on the whole to write, but I'm also more experienced! So much has happened in this past year, it's honestly so nice to look back at how far I've come! Hope you enjoy!

Note: I'm doing both Whumptober and AI-less Whumptober, and just picking prompts from both as i please

Day 1: Stress Position | Race Against The Clock | Search Party

Day 2: The Scream of the Machine

Day 3: Mission Log Write Up (A Supervillain's Child)

Day 4: To Keep the Monster Tame ((Un)Official Guide)

Day 5: Overstimulation | Migraines | Sunburn

Day 6: Protection Above All Else (art) ((Un)Official Guide)

Day 7: Save Us Both

Day 8: You Look So Much Prettier This Way (art/writing snippet) ((Un)Official Guide)

Day 9: The Giant Won't Save You

Day 10: What Happens When You Give a Tween The Power to Wreck Some Shit ((Un)Official Guide)

Day 11: Hallucinations | Seeing Double | Convenience Store | Loneliness

Day 28: You fixin' to get shot, doctor? (art/writing snippet) ((Un)Official Guide)

[whumble-beeee]

The Bee's Whumptember 2023 Masterlist

I'm participating in Whumptember this year! I figured I should probably have a place where I can keep track of all the pieces I make for each day, so here it is. I'm planning on doing every day if I can help it, so this should also hold me to that.

I'm doing Whumptember for a few main reasons: Just to get in the habit of writing or creating every day, to help get myself out there more to let people know who I am, maybe have people discover and like my writing style/characters, and just for practice. Lots of practice lol.

I can't promise all the writings or drawings will be good, but they will at least be self-indulgent and hopefully fun to read or look at (bc I know I'll sure as hell have fun making them). Enjoy!

Did I Do Good?

Let Me Do This For You

This Can't Be It

Where Are They (cont'd from Day 3)

What Do You Want Me To Do

I Didn't Do This

No One Will Believe You (art)

Don't Come Back

This Was Always Going To Happen (cont'd from Day 5)

What Are You Doing To Them

There's Nothing Else I Can Do (cont'd from Day 10)

I Can't Leave Again

You Don't Remember, Do You?

I'm On My Way, Just Hold On A Little Longer

I Thought You Were Dead

Can I Go Home Now?

Can You Come Pick Me Up?

You Said I'd Be Safe Here

You're Not A Hero, You're A Child Playing Dress Up (cont'd from Day 1)

We Can't All Win (cont'd from Day 5 & 9)

Take Me With You

I'm Getting Bored

Is That Blood?

(Whumptember is over now, but I may finish more prompts if it strikes my fancy)

*Since I also have none of these planned out until I literally sit down to write them, I'll take requests for story continuations (or any other asks lol) if anyone wants one :)*

Feel free to send me or my characters asks!