#Whumpuary

[whumpuary]

(form will be closed and prompt list will be up by the time this poll ends & i'll reveal!)

(vote in the prompts form here)

[serickswrites]

"I'm Fine."

Warnings: captivity, torture, restraints, blood, bloody nose, bruises, rescue

Caretaker quickly made their way through the abandoned warehouse. Whumper had said that they taken Whumpee here. That they tortured Whumpee here. And that they left Whumpee to die here.

Caretaker prayed they weren't too late.

"Whumpee?" Caretaker called, hoping beyond hope that Whumpee could hear them. No sound came. "Come on, Whumpee. I'm here. I'm here. Please, say something."

Caretaker rounded the corner and gave a gasp. "Whumpee!"

Whumpee was slumped over in the chair they were bound to. Blood coated their shirt, parts of the chair, and had dripped onto the floor in places. Whumpee moaned at the sound of Caretaker rushing forward.

"Whumpee! Say something. Talk to me, Whumpee."

"Caretakerrrr," Whumpee croaked. They lifted their head weakly and blinked up at Caretaker. Their face was swollen and bruised, blood dripping in a steady stream from their nose. "'m finnnnnne."

"You are definitely not fine. But I'm here. I've got you. Let's get you out of here."

Whumpee nodded and let their head drop. "'ump'r?"

"Handled." Caretaker quickly began to saw through the thick coils of rope at Whumpee's ankles. "I'm sorry it took me so long to find you, Whumpee."

"'s'kay," Whumpee's voice was barely audible.

Caretaker looked up at Whumpee. Whumpee's face was ghostly pale, and they blinked slowly, their eyes beginning to roll back as they stared down at Caretaker. "None of that, Whumpee," Caretaker tapped Whumpee's cheek as they rose up and began to saw at the ropes on Whumpee's wrists. "None of that. You stay awake and with me, you here? Whumpee!"

"'m 'wakkkkke," Whumpee hissed as they gritted their teeth, fighting unconsciousness. "So.....so tireddddd."

"I know you are, Whumpee. But you have to stay awake. You have to stay awake until I can get you to help. Ok?"

Whumpee nodded, as they swallowed hard. "Stay'ng."

[tabbytabbytabby]

A Steddie aesthetic for @whumpuary No.6: Exhaustion / old injuries

[suspensefulpen]

Whumpuary Day 21: “Just Get It Over With”

TW: Implied Torture, Punishments, Knife 

@whumpuary

“Whumpee,” Whumper scolded softly. “I told you what would happen if you disobeyed me, didn’t I?” In spite of the softness in his voice, his expression was grave. 

“Yeah…” Whumpee grimaced, turning their gaze elsewhere. 

“And what did you do Whumpee?” 

“I…disobeyed you.” They lowered their head. They didn’t know if it was in shame or to avoid eye contact even more. Regardless, they kept their gaze to the floor. They did not want this. They felt they had enough scars and cuts and bruises. 

“And do you know what that means?” 

“I get punished…” 

“Punished for what?” 

“For disobeying you…” 

Whumper hummed, the slightest smile on his face. “It’s good you’re aware.” He pulled out his knife and stepped closer when Whumpee tightly shut their eyes, hissing. 

“Just get it over with.” 

With raised brows, Whumper leaned away. “What was that?” 

Whumpee quickly opened their eyes as panic rose in their chest. “I-I said I–” 

“You want to just get it over with?” 

“No, no, no! That’s not what I said! I said–” 

“No, I’m pretty sure that’s what you said.” Whumper nodded even as Whumpee shook their head. “Yes, yes.” They smiled more visibly as it turned into a wicked smirk. “I’ll go as slow as I possibly can.”

[its-my-whump]

Whumpuary2024

Jan 17-18

"Make it stop"

@whumpuary

"Please, m...k it...ssst...oppp."

Whumpee could hardly breathe. He was sitting pressed into the tiny spot between the couch and the wall, shivering like a leaf. His left knee bend, his arms wrapped around, burrying his head as deep as possible behind it. His right leg, spread out, stiff as it was. His tight jumping up and down on the floor in little frantic motions. Only his muscles reacting to the stress in his system, his leg would hardly move on its own in any other situation.

Little sobs slipped through, muffed from his own body shielding him from the world. There was the desperate try to surpress his whimpers.

Caretaker had left him for only 20 minutes, he needed to get some groceries. Whumpee had been asleep. Finally.

He had been looking dead tired again, for almost a week by now. But finally his body yielded, at least for a short while.

The blanket was on the floor. It was crumpled, the all so clear sign of whumpees struggle with himself, when his flasbacks, nightmares or just memories caught up to him.

Caretaker approached only slowly, he bend down without any hectic and stayed on his hunches, when his hand went for the blanket.

He knew better, than to touch whumpee in this fragil state.

Very gently he lowered the blanket onto his leg, so if whumpee couldn't take it, any slight motion would show Caretaker to stop what he was doing.

It was okay.

Strainful, whumpee pulled his arms from his head, as if they weight a ton.

He entangled them, but his hands stayed at the top of his head, when he looked up frightened. His eyes were bloodshot, red and puffy. It seemed the weight of the world was leaking out of them.

Whumpees face was locked in a pale expressionless mask. It was even more shocking, as the times everything in his mimik derailed, when he usually fell apart.

Big tears had trailed down his cheeks, but his expression almost seemed like the one of a ghost. He had seen too much, he had to endure too much, he had survived too much for his age.

His eyes pierced through Caretaker, as his fingers turned white, while he pressed them against his own skulp.

"Make it stop." Whumpees voice was cold, but slightly shaking. It was a plea, more than an accusation, but it was bloodcurling even more so.

My masterlist

[corvidscreams]

Days 6+7: Discomfort + Ease

How well can the 'good cop' act really work if you're also the 'bad cop'?

(Prev/Next)

[alpaca-clouds]

Whumpuary 15: Like the Sun

Prompts: You're safe, Aftermath, Touch starved

And here it is. The last story for @whumpuary. This time I managed all three prompts - though the main prompt was Touch Starved.

Like the Sun

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Shipping: Astarion/m!Tav Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Astarion had not expected it. Yet, as everything is said and done, Tav stays by Astarion's side.

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

Not So Invincible After All

Whumpuary 2023: Prompt 3. Shot

2023 Year of Whump: Jan 1. Whispered Reassurances

Fandom: DC, Batman, Jason Todd, Red Hood, f!reader, Superman/Lois Lane's Daughter!Reader

Summary: Tired of living in your father's shadow, you move to Gotham where you meet Jason Todd. As the two of you become an unstoppable team (in love and crimefighting), everything seems perfect. Until something goes wrong…

Word Count: 3417

TW: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Gun Shot, Blood, Loss of powers, Pain, Ambiguous Ending, Language

Notes: Thank you to @icarusthefoolish for this request!

Moving to Gotham City is not a hard decision to make. You need to get out of your father’s shadow in Metropolis and the heroes of Gotham could use some extra help after Bruce’s death and Dick taking over the mantle as Batman. So, it seems like the perfect spot for you to start your solo career as a superhero. However, it is only right to get permission from those already protecting the city first.

To your utter embarrassment, your father sets up the meeting for you and insists on coming. Though you are an adult, he still treats you like a child. But, as much as you try to argue against it, once your mother steps in and says he is going, all arguments are over. Not even you argued with Lois Lane when she took that tone.

Which is how you find yourself standing outside Wayne Manor with your arms crossed over the S emblem on your chest, staring down the remaining members of the Batfamily. You had known Bruce extremely well, you had never met any of his wards before, though you knew who they all were.

Damien seems unimpressed by you and quickly turns his attention to other things after his introduction. Tim is the complete opposite, practically bouncing up and down as he shakes your hand and tries to ask you a million questions. Luckily, Dick gently pushes him to the side, reminding him there will be time for that later. The new Batman is so different from Bruce and yet you can still see flashes of his late guardian in the way he holds himself and addresses the situation at hand. Which just left Jason. The formerly dead vigilante didn’t say anything while you were introduced, but his eyes never leave your face the entire time your dad is explaining the situation. There is a playful twinkle in his eyes that you can’t quite understand, but you push it to the back of your mind as your dad finishes up and lifts up into the sky, drifting back a few dozen feet to give you some space for once.

Your eyes quickly flicker across each of the heroes in front of you and you clear your throat. “So, basically what Dad said. I want to leave Metropolis, you guys seem to need an extra set of hands around here– it seems like a win-win.”

For the first time, Damien speaks up. “Who says we need ‘extra hands’? We are protecting the city just fine without assistance.”

You lock eyes with the young Robin, completely unfazed by the death stare he is giving you. “Listen, kid. You guys are doing fine, but don’t think you are living up to The Bat’s legacy, at least not yet. I might not be living in Gotham at the moment, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t been keeping an eye on things. Dick is doing an admirable job of being Batman, but it’s pretty obvious he’s just one of the birds playing dress up. And I’m not the only one who's noticed. The criminals in this city are getting bolder and sooner or later, one of them is going to do something the four of you can’t handle. So, if you don’t want my help, that’s fine. There are a million other cities I can move to. But then don’t come crying to me when you get your asses handed to you and you need someone to save you, because I might not be interested anymore.”

Damien continues to stare you down for a moment, then slowly nods, breaking eye contact. And with that, you know you have earned the respect of the one person who you really needed to win over tonight.

Elbowing Tim in the ribs, Jason grins as he mutters, “Wow. I never expected to hear something like that coming from the boy scout’s daughter.” 

One side of your mouth quirks up in a sly smile as your superhearing picks up on what he said. Turning your gaze so you are staring directly into his eyes, you say, “Then you’ve never met my mother. I might get my powers from my father, but I get my spirit and my wicked tongue from her.”

You can see the gears working in Jason’s head as the response forms. The way his heartbeat speeds up slightly, the slight dilation of his pupils, how his jaw tightens as he forces himself not to make the witty comment he desperately wants to but can’t with your father still hovering feet away. And that makes the smile on your lips widen.

The rest of the meeting runs smoothly. It is agreed that you can stay in Gotham and help protect its people as long as you don’t get in the Batfamily’s way. However, they do extend an invitation to team up with them whenever you want. You doubt it will happen, but it is nice to know that option is there.

You say goodbye to your dad and watch as he flies away. Once he is out of sight of even your advanced vision, you pivot sharply and strut straight up to Jason. 

He seems slightly startled by your brash confrontation, but he stands his ground. As you reach him, you lean over until your lips lightly brush the curve of his ear, and you whisper, “Maybe if you play your cards right, I can show you how wicked this tongue can get.” 

With your powers, you can sense the multitude of physical reactions your words send through his body and you chuckle as you pat his cheek before flying off into the night. 

As it turns out, Jason played his cards very right seeing as you end up waking up in his bed less than a week later. And you haven’t left since. Now, after almost five months of living in Gotham, you and Jason have become the ultimate team, in and out of your costumes. Despite both of your tempers, sarcastic natures, and constant desire to push back against the ideals of your fathers, the two of you balance each other out in some strange way. 

And Jason is never intimidated by your powers or your nigh invulnerability. In fact, he is nothing but supportive of them. In fights, you quickly find a rhythm where you go after the strongest opponent while Jason covers you or takes out the weaker opponents. It’s a system that never seems to fail, and the two of you seem unstoppable.

Until one night….

Jason is chasing two men through the streets. They just robbed Gotham National Bank but for some reason, ditched the bags of money fairly quickly as they tried to lose Jason. But he just let you gather up the forfeited money and fly it back to the bank while he continued his chase. 

By the time you return and spot him, he has chased the men onto the roof of a building. Just as the men realize they are trapped and this will be a fight, you land next to Jason with a grin.

“Hello, boys. What seems to be the trouble here?”

The men exchange angry glances and one of them hisses loudly to the other, “What do we do? We wanted Superman, not Superbitch.”

“Hey! Watch your fucking mouth!” Jason growls, taking a step closer, but you place a hand on his chest, halting him.

“Well, you shitheads are in the wrong city then. Superman doesn’t come here. This is my turf. So, does that mean you want to just give up now, or are we going to have a little fun tonight?” The men exchange glances then pull out their guns. You nod. “Okay, then. Fun it is.”

Before they can react, you have crossed the distance between you and grab one of the men by his jacket and soar up into the air. The man immediately drops his gun as he frantically clutches at your arms, trying to hold on as tightly as he can. But it makes little difference. With a cheeky grin, you release your grip. The man only has a fraction of a second to realize what is about to happen before he plummets towards the ground. 

You continue to hover in the air as you watch him fall farther and farther, his screams of terror slowly growing fainter. Finally, when he is just a few dozen feet from the ground, you sigh and soar downward. You reach him just before he hits the ground, wrapping your arms around his chest and holding him about a foot in the air. 

He continues to scream even once you set him back on the sidewalk, his legs giving out from under him as he collapses in a heap. Bending over to peer down at him, you ask, “Now, are you going to be a good boy and stay put until the cops show up, or do we have to try that again?”

He pales at the very thought and clutches your leg. “N-n-no! Please! N-not again!”

Patting his head, you say, “Good boy. Now, let’s see if your friend is as agreeable.” And you launch yourself back into the air towards the top of the building. 

When you reach the roof, you see Jason has dealt with the other man who is lying face down on the far side of the building. Jason looks up as you land and even through his helmet, you can hear the smile in his voice as he asks, “Did you catch this one in time?”

“One time! I missed one time! And I still stopped him before he was permanently injured. Are you ever going to let me live that down?”

“Nope.” He starts to cross the roof to you.

But just then, you both hear a sound behind him, and turn to look. The man Jason had knocked down has climbed back to his feet, and before Jason can react, the man raises his gun and fires three shots straight at his chest.

“Nice try,” you smirk as you streak forward at superspeed, stopping just in front of Jason as the bullets soar toward him.

However, the smirk drops from your face as the bullets don’t bounce harmlessly off you as expected. Instead, they drive deep into your chest, just above your heart. The force of the impact causes you to stumble backward into Jason, who flinches slightly in surprise at your sudden appearance and collision with him. 

Instantly, it feels like all of your strength is being sapped from your body and you collapse heavily against Jason’s chest. Luckily, he has a firm grip on your waist and keeps you from falling completely. Drawing you in, he lowers both of you to the ground and allows you to lean against him with your legs out in front of you.

Neither of you saw where the gunman disappeared after you collapsed, but at the moment, it is the least of your concerns. Glancing down, you can see three distinct holes in your suit, each one gushing blood. Normally, that should be the most worrisome part of the problem. However, your breath catches in your throat as you notice the faint green sheen mixed with your blood.

But Jason hasn’t realized that yet. Ripping off his helmet to get a better look at your wound, he asks, “What’s going on? How did this happen?”

“I think– I think they were made for my father. Kryptonite bullets.”

The realization of what this means slowly passes over Jason’s face. “That’s why they didn’t just bounce off you. You have Kryptonite buried in your chest?”

“Not just there. It’s some sort of poison bullet that’s releasing it into my system. I can feel it like acid in my veins. Spreading throughout my body.” You cry out as a fresh wave of pain hits you. “God! It hurts so much.”

“I’m calling Supes. Maybe he can–”

“No, Jay, don’t you get it? Even just being near me right now will weaken him. And those guys could still be around waiting for that. I can’t d–do that to him.” You shudder again at the pain and Jason uses his hands to cover your wound in a desperate attempt to slow the bleeding.

“It’s okay, baby. You’re gonna be okay,” he whispers softly into your ear. But you can clearly tell that he doesn’t fully believe the words he is saying.

Jason helps you shift slightly against his chest, trying to make you as comfortable as possible. Looking down, you can see blood still spilling from between his fingers, the crimson puddle tinted with a faint green glow as it grows beneath you. 

“What can I do? There has to be something I can do,” Jason pleads.

“I don’t think there is.” Suddenly, you realize everything seems different, muted. You can no longer see or hear anything clearly beyond this rooftop. Your body feels weaker than it has ever felt before, and not just from the pain or your injury. And when you put all the concentration you can muster into lifting yourself even half an inch off the ground, you can’t even manage to make yourself twitch. Everything that made you special, everything you had inherited from your father is just… gone.

Leaning your head back against Jason’s neck, you ask, “Is this…. Is this what it feels like?”

“What does what feel like, baby?” he asks, stroking your hair gently.

“To be human?”

The question catches Jason off guard. “Um, I–I don’t know. I guess so.”

“I don’t think I like it very much.” Another shiver of pain washes over you and you bury your face in Jason’s neck, hoping to muffle the moan that rumbles in your throat.

But Jason still hears it. “That’s it. I’m calling your dad.”

“No,” you mutter weakly. “I told you–”

“We don’t have a choice. I don’t know enough about Kryptonite or Kryptonian anatomy to help you, but he does. Don’t you think he would want to help you even if it meant feeling the effects of the Kryptonite?”

You are silent for a moment, but you know that he is right. Your dad would have wanted to be here the second you were hurt, regardless of the danger it might put him in. So, reluctantly, you nod. 

Jason removes his hand from your chest – it hadn’t been doing much to stop the blood flow anyway – and he pulls a phone from his pocket. You allow your eyes to drift closed as you listen to him quickly explain what happened and just moments later, there is a loud thud on the other side of the roof.

Peeling your eyes open, you see the familiar red-and-blue suit reflecting in the dim light. Your dad takes a step forward into the light and you can see the concern and fear etched onto his face as he stares at you, his eyes watery and his breathing uneven. He starts to walk towards you, but he stumbles slightly as the first effects of the Kryptonite hit him. 

He tries to take another step, but you mumble, “Please. Don’t. I don’t want you to get hurt too.” Your words are just barely more than a whisper but even across the distance, you know he hears you clear as day. The reluctance is evident on his face, yet he follows your wishes and remains where he is at.

Jason stares at the Man of Steel, the desperation in his voice as he asks, “What do we do? How do we help her?”

“I-I don’t know,” your dad admits, his voice uncharacteristically shaky. “If there is Kryptonite all through her body like you said, I don’t know how we get it out. Normally, Kryptonite by itself isn’t lethal, but no Kryptonian has been exposed this intimately to this amount. And from what I can see, she’s fading fast.”

“But she’s not just Kryptonian….” Jason whispers, as he gazes down at you. Then his head snaps up, and in a stronger voice says, “Clark, she’s just as human as she is Kryptonian. I don’t think it’s actually the Kryptonite in her veins that’s killing her. It’s the bullets. The Kryptonite just made her lose her healing abilities. So, if we just treat this like any old bullet wound, I think she might be okay.”

Your dad considers for a moment before nodding. “It’s possible, and let’s pray it’s true because it’s her only hope. We need to get those bullets out and then get her to a hospital as quickly as possible.”

Jason nods. “Okay. How do we do that?”

“We get help from the quickest person we know.” He pulls out a device and speaks into it. After only a few words, the rooftop shakes slightly as a gust of wind roars past and when you blink, you see Barry standing there with his usual grin on his face.

“You called?” But the smile slips as he takes in the scene before him. “Oh my god! What happened? Is she alright?”

“No, but we’re hoping you could help with that,” your dad explains. “She was shot three times with Kryptonite bullets, and we need to get them out of her. I can’t do it, but can you?”

Barry nodded. “I think so.” Crossing the rooftop, he kneels down beside you. Even in his bright red suit, you are having trouble focusing on him as your vision begins to blur. But you feel the light pressure as Barry places his hand on your arm. “Hey, Kid.”

“Hey, Skidmark,” you mumble weakly.

Barry chuckles. “I’ll let that slide this time since you’re hurt.” His face turns serious as he adds, “And because what’s about to happen isn’t going to feel great.”

Turning towards Jason, he says, “I need you to hold her as still as possible in case she squirms. It might take me a minute to locate all three bullets and the more she moves, the longer I’ll have to keep searching.” Jason nods and his grip on your shoulders tightens.

Barry positions his fingers just above your wound but hesitates as he glances at your face. You nod slightly and he turns his focus back to your chest. His hand begins to move so quickly, it becomes nothing more than a blur. Then, he moves it lower, phasing it through your chest. 

Instantly, you seize up. The intense vibrations reverberate through your entire body, but the proximity of his fingers to your heart and lungs causes them to freeze. Your eyes roll back in your head as you silently gasp for air. Jason is trying to hold you down but it is difficult when your entire body is spasming violently. You vaguely hear Barry, your dad, and Jason yelling at each other, but you can’t make out a single word they are saying. 

Then, mercifully, the vibrations are gone. All your muscles relax and your head falls limply against Jason’s shoulder as you try to catch your breath. Jason rubs his hand over your hair as he whispers that it’s over and how good you did. You aren’t really sure you did anything, but you are too weak and light-headed to correct him. 

From the other side of the roof, your dad calls out, “Barry, get her to the med bay on the Watchtower. They should be able to treat her there. Then, destroy those bullets.”

Barry nods before holding out his arms and Jason helps to ease your broken form into them. However, just as Barry is about to take off, you feebly stretch your fingers towards Jason. He takes your hand and squeezes it tightly. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

You swallow heavily and force the words to spill from your lips. “I need you to know… if I had known what those bullets were… I still would have taken them for you…No regrets…”

Your hand goes limp in his grasp as the last of your energy is depleted. Leaning forward, Jason gently places your hand on your chest before kissing your forehead. Then, with his lips still hovering just above your skin, he whispers, “I love you. No regrets.”

Stepping back, he nods at Barry. The speedster tightens his hold on you and says, “Hold on.” Then he takes off.

As you feel that familiar initial whoosh of moving at super speed, you finally allow yourself to succumb to the darkness.

Taglist: @nik2blog, @dumb-fawkin-bitch, @zebralover, @lolzghost, @thefictionalcharacterssimp, @venomsvl, @sugarysweetsandpainfulteeth, @your-friendly-neighborhood-al, @hellfire-fan-club, @blue-aconite

[lemissingmask]

[ID: Sketch of Eliot Spencer with his wrists bound in chains and tied above his head, with bruises covering his torso and arms, and his head bowed forward. In the background, mostly hidden in shadow in the darkened room, Parker is descending from the ceiling, about to come and rescue Eliot. End ID]

-

Whumpuary alternative prompt: Rescue

Just Parker coming to rescue Eliot (Hardison is distracting the captors by creating all kinds of digital havoc and chaos in their security).

-

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

I feel worse today than I did yesterday. I am hoping to get started on Whumpuary and maybe work on the next chapter of The Dixon Chronicles but I’m not going to hold my breath.

Flu season sucks.

[whumpuary]

Welcome to Whumpuary 2024!

Whumpuary is a whump themed mixed-media creation event/challenge taking place in January.

This year the prompts came together through a community submission form and then a poll, where I picked the 53 most voted prompts! There are 15 numbers with 3 prompts each, plus 8 alt prompts. The dates are just meant to be a general guideline for those who want/need some structure in a challenge (e.g post every other day), but you don't actually have to create/post on those dates. You can combine prompts any way you want or just pick one of each number, do every single one or even all of them combined into one big creation (or just use one single prompt. That's already an achievement!) If you don't like any prompts of a number you can also replace or combine them with an alt prompt. The main or alt prompts don't have to be done in order.

Go here for more information, rules and the tagging system Go here for FAQs

The inbox is open for any questions!

Text version of all the prompts is under the cut

Whumpuary 2024 Main Prompts 1. (Jan 01-02) Captivity / Snow / Secret Revealed 2. (Jan 03-04) "Get away from me" / Collapse / Choking 3. (Jan 05-06) Used as bait / Stumbling / "This is gonna hurt" 4. (Jan 07-08) "Help me" / Lightheaded / Kneeling 5. (Jan 09-10) Can't move / "Stay. Please" / Kidnapped 6. (Jan 11-12) Exhaustion / Blindfolded / Old Injuries 7. (Jan 13-14) "I didn't know where else to go" / Bruises / Drugged 8. (Jan 15-16) Muffled Screams / Hostage / "You look awful" 9. (Jan 17-18) "Make it stop" / Restraints / Hair Grabbing 10. (Jan 19-20) Desperation / Gunpoint / Can't stay awake 11. (Jan 21-22) Blood / "Just get is over with" / Memories 12. (Jan 23-24) "You're awake" / Rescue / Unfair Fight 13. (Jan 25-26) Left to die / Barely Conscious / "I'm Fine" 14. (Jan 27-28) Flinching / Breakdown / Sleep Deprivation 15. (Jan 29-31) You're safe / Aftermath / Touch starved

Alt Prompts 1. Stabbed 2. "Let me see" 3. Recapture 4. Forced to watch 5. Headache 6. Gagged 7. "Do you trust me?" 8. Blood Loss

[serickswrites]

You're Awake

Part 2 Part 3

Warnings: captivity, torture, restraints, unconsciousness, blood, blood loss, rescue, caretaker and whumpee

Whumpee clawed their way back to consciousness. They were exhausted. Days and days of torture at Whumper's hand had taken its toll on their body. Between the pain and blood loss, Whumpee had passed out while Whumper worked on them.

But now was time to wake up. They needed to be awake. Need to be alert enough to figure out a plan to get away. To escape. They had to wake up.

The dimly room was musty and freezing. Wherever Whumper had been keeping Whumpee, it hadn't been used in a long time. A scraping sound had Whumpee wrenching their eyes open.

"Oh good, you're awake," a familiar voice came from the far side of the room.

"C-C-Caretaker," Whumpee croaked. Their throat was raw from all their screaming over the last several days.

"I'm here, Whumpee, I'm here." Caretaker came into Whumpee's field of vision. They cupped Whumpee's cheek with their warm hand. Whumpee leaned into their soft, tender touch. "I am sorry it took me so long to get here."

"You're here," Whumpee said as they gave a sigh of relief. Caretaker was here. They were saved.

"Let's get you out of these cuffs."

"Whumper?" Whumpee dared to hope that Whumper was gone.

"Taken care of, love. Don't worry. They can't hurt you anymore."

Whumpee sighed. Whumper was gone. Caretaker was here. They were safe. Suddenly everything seemed lighter and softer. They began to close their eyes once more.

"Ah, ah, none of that, Whumpee. Keep your eyes open." Caretaker's voice was urgent. So urgent. But Whumpee couldn't bring themself to care.

"Mmmmm," was all they could manage.

"Shit. Whumpee. Whumpee! Love, look at me. Open your eyes. Where's all this blood from? Whumpee!"

Whumpee wanted to tell Caretaker where Whumper had sliced through layers and layers of skin. Wanted to tell Caretaker where they had been stabbed. Wanted to tell Caretaker about all their aches and pains. But they were so cold. And tired. And most of all, they were safe. Whumpee sank back into the darkness, knowing that Caretaker had them, and they would be safe. No matter what.

[tabbytabbytabby]

In The Moment Of Truth

Word Count: 1,502 words

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: Merlin

Relationship: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Kidnapping, Arthur Pendragon Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), Soft Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Competent Merlin (Merlin), Getting Together, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Snow, Light Angst

Summary: Merlin and Arthur are kidnapped and left for dead in the woods. Merlin’s determined to get them untied before they freeze to death, and can't understand why Arthur doesn't seem worried at all.

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For @whumpuary 2024 Day 1: Captivity / Snow / Secret Revealed

[suspensefulpen]

Day 17: Restrained | Hair Grabbing

TW: Restraints, Hair Pulling, Torture, Implied Choking

@whumpuary

Whumpee gasped sharply as a large handful of their hair was yanked on, forcing their head up. They felt their cuffs digging into their skin. It hurt—no it burned. They looked up at Whumper through teary eyes.

“I asked you a question, Whumpee.” He looked down at them with a blank expression.

“I…” They rasped. “I hope you die…”

Whumper sighed as he let go of their curls. Instead sending his fist into their stomach, forcing them to lean over in pain and gasp for air. “Should we try that again?”

“I hate you—”

He didn’t allow them a chance to answer, watching them groan in pain once again. “We can do this the easy way or we can do this the hard way.” Whumper grabbed another handful of hair, forcing them to look up at him. He pulled them further from the wall, watching as their cuffs began bruising their skin. “Don’t you want to get this over with Whumpee?”

They didn’t respond. Averting their gaze from their captor’s. The wind was knocked out of their chest a third time, sending them doubling over. A hand forced their head back. They saw Whumper’s deep frown. “Do we need to get your ears checked?”

“What is checking them going to do? Help you get an answer to your stupid question?”

“That.” Whumper agreed, his hand trailing down Whumpee’s throat, threatening to squeeze it. “And so much more.”

[its-my-whump]

Whumpuary2024

Jan 15-16

Muffed screams

@whumpuary

A thick towel, curled into a roll, was forced between his lips. He had started to bite down on his own teeth, making them crunsh, when they pulled the shortly wrapped piece of fabric from the wound on his leg.

The moment, he gasped for air someone just shoved the roll into his mouth. He was so surprised, the inhale kept stuck and a frantic pull of air started to get noisely in and out of his nose.

A big hand held onto his shivering shoulder, a short squeeze. Those moving lips were supposed to speak encouraging words, but all he could hear was his own blood rushing though his ears and his own desperate attempt to get enough oxygen in through his flaring nostrales.

His chest was heaving, his hands had balled into fists and his shoulders left the table in an reflexive movement to deal with the sudden pain in his leg.

The lips had stopped moving, the man, to whom they belonged, exchanged a look with people roaming around by his leg. He couldn't tell, who or even how many there were. His eyes had filled with tears.

The big paw on his chest slowly brought some weight onto him and gently pushed his back down to the table. He let it.

More hands started to touch him. Palms flat on his tights, fingers wrapped around his left shin and right foot. Hands on his hips, someone moved to his left shoulder and gave him another encouraging look. The sadness in those eyes he couldn't make out under his blurry vision.

All those hands together, they pressed down as the pain came. Every muscle in his body tried to stiffen to deal with the all consuming agony, that just exploded in his right leg and burned itself up his tight, hip, shoulder and chest, just to manifest itself in his brain.

His teeth clenched around the towel in his mouth and he screamed. It was a muffed, but all the more painful cry. Despite being swallowed by the fabric against his tongue, the bloodcurling sound echoed from the naked walls of the makeshift OR for sheer endless long seconds.

Suddenly it got stuck in his throat as the iron strong tension is his muscles just vanished. All the resistance under so many hands was gone, when he fell back to the table. A big hand from his right shoulder carefully pulled out the rolled towel between his half opened lips and bloody teeth.

My masterlist

[mybeautifulbeautifuleternal]

The minute trembling of your husband had woken you from your peaceful slumber. With bleary eyes, you peered up at the full moon that was lighting the room, the fire long since gone out. The lack of heat it provided had sent you further into the comforting arms of Aegon and it was the closeness that had allowed you to feel when the nightmares seized him tight.

It wasn’t often anymore that Aegon was gripped in the throws of bad dreams but it still happened. It broke your heart every time though. Your marriage was the best thing that had ever happened to you, Aegon topping the list easily. The gentle way he had learned to treat you with had broken through every wall you tried to put up. He had been brutal in his way through to your heart, unrelenting in his tender love and care of you, and when he finally carried your heart in his hands — he had seemingly carved out his own to place within your chest, so entwined were the pair of you.

You were incapable of not returning that fervent devotion, centering your life now around the silver haired prince that called himself yours. It was that love that had you turning in his arms to gently wake him, not wanting him to suffer any longer than he had too.

“Aegon, my love,” your words were soothing, meant to slowly drag him from his nightmare. You had seen the way his family treated him and you never wanted to continue the cycle they had started. The first time you understood how often they raised their hands towards him, you had sworn to yourself that he would only hear love and comfort and pleasure coming from your lips. “Aegon. I need you to wake up.”

It was with a sharp gasp and the strangled beginning of your name coming from his lips that saw him awake. You had jerked back quickly not wanting to knock your head into his, and it left you flat on your back. Aegon was looming above you, panting and sweating in exertion, face red and eyes brimming in tears. His eyes flew about the room wildly, only stopping on you when you dragged his face in your direction.

When he realized where he was, he collapsed onto your chest, burrowing his arms under you to cling all the more tightly to you. Soon enough, you felt his tears start to dampen your nightgown. Well used to the routine of his nightmares, you remained quiet and simply started to comb your fingers through his hair.

It must have been a couple of hours spent in silence when Aegon unearthed his face from the curve of your neck, eyes swollen and lips bitten through.

“Did you want to tell me about it?” You were quiet and unbothered, not pushing him to give you an answer. For all the fact his face was extremely expressive and he had no trouble speaking his mind, Aegon had hidden depths within him and sometimes what bubbled up during the night wasn’t something he felt like he could share.

“…You told me you didn’t love me anymore. That it was a mistake to marry me,” his words sent you heart racing despite the way he tried to whisper them. You flipped him over to his back, straddling his hips and cradling his face in your hands.

“Aegon. Aegon. My love, my life, my sun and stars, my Prince, my husband,” with each title you gave him, you placed a kiss on a part of his face, ending up whispering into his lips the most important one. “I love you. I love you. I love you. Avy jorrāelan. Please. Listen to me now, okay? I would never, ever ever ever, never tell you I don’t love you. Not anymore. I dream of you every night, I wake up thinking about you everyday. My waking hours are haunted by the thoughts of you. I swore to the Seven and to the Valyrian gods and the Northern Gods that you were mine and I do not plan on taking those vows back.”

Your speech might not have been the most elegant or put together but the more you spoke, the more unseen tension that seeped out from him, Aegon slowly relaxing back into your bed underneath you.

“Promise?” His question was asked from a little boy looking for love from his family, from a young man pushed by those that should have sheltered him, a husband scared his wife would hate him. It broke your heart to hear the cracked tone.

“With Fire and Blood if needed. I promise.”

Neither of you slept anymore that night, whiling the hours away with gentle kisses and feather-like caresses, reassuring each other of the love that you had nurtured between you.

@whumpuary