#a little whumpy

[aggressivelyaverage21]

Response to this poll

So, because I have been bored at home... I decided to treat this as a prompt. So... here it is:

Forced to watch someone else being tortured.  

Beatrice had been smacked around herself and was in bad shape, but it stopped. 

Ava... not for Ava though. Ava has the halo. The halo heals her. 

But. 

That just means they can drag it out. Over and over they can keep hurting Ava as Beatrice watches. 

Ava’s crying. 

Screaming in pain. 

She told Beatrice once, her body's healing was sometimes worse than the injury itself. 

So Ava was being worked over big time. 

But in between bouts of torture, she would make eye contact with Beatrice. Pleading for Beatrice to be strong. And Beatrice, ever the good soldier, didn’t say a word. 

God she wanted to so badly. 

But she didn’t. She couldn’t. 

It was a conversation her and Ava had long ago. About this specific situation, because it had always been a posibility, and the decision had been made already. 

No one would talk. 

No matter what. 

No matter how much it hurt or what was happening. No one would compromise the OCS or the mission. 

It was so much easier said than actually done, but Beatrice stood there watching. Tears rolling down her cheeks as she watched them torture Ava only for minutes to pass and the only sign of it to be the blood staining her torn clothing. 

That was the hard part after they got out of the situation. 

Dealing with it. With no actual proof it happened. 

There weren't any wounds for Beatrice to tend to. 

There wasn’t a need for Ava to spend any time resting in a bed as she healed. 

There was only them, Beatrice’s injuries that only equated to several bruised ribs, a black eye, and a split lip. And somehow it was Ava left comforting her as Beatrice struggled with all the guilt which somehow only made Beatrice feel worse.

2. Forced to participate in someone else’s torture. 

It was a “do this or we will kill this innocent person” situation. 

Ava and Beatrice had found themselves in quite the pickle that way. 

A gun at a child’s head. 

Beatrice instructed to beat Ava with her bare fists. 

Ava begged her to comply with the demand because– ultimately– she would be fine. She had every faith they would be found in time before everything escalated. 

Bea just had to buy them some… unfortunately, by hitting her. 

It wasn't like Beatrice hadn't hit her before- Ava tried to joke, but it fell woefully short.

Beatrice didn’t hit hard the first time after Ava gave her permission. Then there was was a shot fired. 

A warning. 

Beatrice did it again feeling Ava’s cheek hard against her knuckles. It hurt her too, honestly probably more than it hurt Ava. She pushed back, hesitated as much as she could each time she was prompted to strike but it was a child. There wasn’t an option. And Ava was there. Whispering “it’s okay Bea” “I’m okay” the whole time and it broke Beatrice. 

Well and truly.

3. Being tortured in front of others. (Not captives) 

The FBC was all about putting on a show. And the main event just so happened to be Beatrice. 

She was getting the ever living shit beat out of her.

But… she’s been trained for this. And really it wasn’t so hard. 

She’d been doing it for her entire adult life, before that even. All she had to do was stick to the training. Stick to making the torture counter productive. Stick to the techniques. 

It hurt. It was painful. Beatrice knew her right hand was never going to be the same and she likely wouldn’t ever fully heal from the way they had surly demolished every ligament in her left knee. But she could do this. 

Except now. 

Now they had started cutting her. 

The end was almost near. The second that started happening, when the possibility for infection, and other biological complications, was opened they weren’t planning on keeping you around long enough to really need to worry about any of that. 

So Beatrice took it. Like the good soldier, she was praying that Ava wasn’t the first one to find her when this was over.

4. Being tortured in front of others captives. 

It started with Beatrce being dragged into a room. 

Her toes dragging against concrete behind her, she could see out of the bottom of the hood but only just barely. Her weight was held between two men by her shoulders that ached from being in a stress position for the last several hours. 

There was a muffled yelling. 

The loud, horrible, sound of a metal chair scraping against concrete as whoever was sitting in it tried to move. 

The rattling of a chain. As her hands were suspended over her head.

The sharp cold of metal on her wrists as the handcuffs were tightened. 

Beatrice had wits about her enough to squeeze her fists and push her arms into the opening as much as she could, trying to keep the cuffs as loose as she could to maybe give her a chance to get out of them later. 

She wasn’t having much success with it but she had to try. 

She was hooked up. Tension held her arms over her head. Her weight was hardly able to be supported by the balls of her feet. 

Thrashing and trying to kick and fight was no use. It wasn’t making her situation any easier. The protests of the mufflered yells and the chair on the concrete were only getting louder as her situation got worse. 

Cold air hit her face as the hood was rapidly removed. It was rather disorienting. To suddenly be in a very bright room. Very clean and industrial. A drain under her feet didn’t exactly bode well for her. 

Her hair was pulled annoyingly out with the hood, falling into her face though that was the least of her worries. 

Beatrice found the strength to lift her head from where it was hanging. 

She found Ava’s wild eyes. Her hair was a mess too. There was a piece of cloth tied into her mouth. She was strapped down with glowing blue handcuffs to a chair that looked like divinium was placed at stretegic points to prevent Ava from phasing through it. 

Beatrice’s back arched away from freezing water– she hadn’t even heard sputter to life– from a hose hit her back. It soaked over her clothes. Her hair.

She was shivering so hard the chain supporting the majority of her weight was rattling. 

She felt a slight static mere milliseconds before electricity arched through her body. Rattling her teeth and lighting every last one of her nerves on fire from the place the baton came into contact with her side. 

Beatrice never considered herself to be particularly vocal. But she couldn't help but scream at the surprise. 

When it stopped she panted, looking up at Ava to hold eye contact. 

They hadn’t asked her for anything yet. And she was still gagged though that didn’t stop her struggle to get to Beatrice. Tears were streaming down her face as she fought to get free. 

They hit Beatrice again and again. The more Ava struggled the harder they hit beatrice. And each time Beatrice, wasn’t so much capable of speech - her jaw far too swollen for that even if she had the energy to try - but she tried to look at Ava. 

Comfort her as much as she could. 

Yell at her with something in her eyes that she was okay. 

That whatever they wanted Ava couldn’t give into it. 

And each time Beatrice saw Ava’s apology. 

Saw Ava trying to comfort her back. 

But more than that she saw Ava breaking. She saw her furry building. 

The desperation there. 

The pain. 

When the gag was slipped over her chin, a string of drool going with it. Ava was yelling. “You mother fucker. I will kill you for this.” 

Beatrice knew it was coming. She didn’t have to see to know. But a fist collided heavy against her soaked torso with a sickening sound that left Beatrice sputtering, struggling to breathe but at least she was somewhat used to how it felt to be hit. 

It was better then the electricity though not much. “Stop.” Ava pleaded. “What do you want.” 

“Ava you can’t —“ Beatrice breathed, shaking her head knowing she’d also just earned herself the baseball bat they just took to her femur just above her knee. She’d be needing surgery for that one most likely… assuming they got out of this. 

And so it continued. Ava being somewhat antagonistic, it was just in her nature, unfortunately enough for Beatrice. 

They went to town on Beatrice not really asking for anything specific. Locations of safe houses. Bases. Divinium stores. They were fishing with no real goal it seemed. 

They left them. Ava straining against the chair to get to Beatrice. “Bea… Bea talk to me” her voice broke over the nickname Beatrice shook her head sagging against the chains.

Her arms were numb and burning at the same time. The lack of blood flow to her hands had rendered them asleep long ago. But still the cuffs bit into her wrists. “Don’t”… “give”… “them” … “anything” 

“Bea.” 

“No.” She panted “noth-ing. Pro—mice.” 

Ava was shaking her head rapidly as tears streamed down her face but Beatrice was right. The only way this stopped, Beatrice’s only chance was for them to decide that this wasn’t productive.

And the only way that happened is if Ava didn’t break. 

Beatrice would suffer it. As fucked up as it was, Ava wasn’t going to insult Beatrice by thinking she couldn’t. She trusted her. And she knew that Beatrice would sooner die than be used to hurt her order, and she also knew that Beatrice would never forgive her if Ava broke for her. 

The dishonor she’d feel because of something not her choice. 

So Ava would let her choose, as much as it was breaking her, she wouldn’t remove that agency from Beatrice. 

Beatrice, bless her, visibly relaxed when Ava reassured her that she would go with what Beatrice wanted. But she also made sure Beatrice knew how much she hated what was happening.

They heard people in the hall approaching for round two and Beatrice looked at Ava forcing eye contact “Look at me Bea” Ava found her resolve for them both. “Just look right at me. I’m here.” 

Beatrice wanted to laugh. If she had the lungs to say anything that was exactly what she would have said to her love. 

At least they were on the same page… And she held Ava’s eye contact with each new pain they brought to her until she lost consciousness.

[valmoth]

good luck prying him off in the morning

[eightcure]

Some Danny phantom sketches for the void

[save-the-villainous-cat]

The hero let out a wet groan, pushing themselves up as the blood ran down their side. It was in itself a funny feeling.

It was a good feeling.

Absolutely no one in this rotten city was able to challenge them. Physically, they were stronger. Mentally, they were quicker. And their dedication, their devotion was like a holy prayer that guided them through their nights.

The hero knew it wasn't a good thing - the longing for a challenge, the desire for an opponent that could actually make them a better fighter. It was a dangerous wish and they had to remind themselves regularly why they were doing this job in the first place.

To do good. To be good. Not to find someone who was their very own nemesis.

However, with the villain's boot on their ribs and that brutal nature of theirs, the hero was struggling not to find this utterly satisactory.

"Yeah, right there," the hero wheezed. "Make me scream."

The villain tilted their head and tutted, nearly bored of the hero's games. They let out a sigh and grabbed the hero's hair, yanking them up.

Another wheeze.

And the villain crouched, holding the hero by their hair. Very close. Very intimate.

"Do you think I am stupid?" the villain asked. Their lips brushed the hero's ear and despite the pain, or maybe because of it, the hero could only concentrate on the adrenaline rushing through their body.

"No," the hero said. They had to grin. Sometimes, they wished they could devour the villain, that they could change them and ultimately, that they could control them.

The hero knew it wasn't right. They knew it wasn't good. But they had never felt this kind of obsession towards anyone. In previous relationships, they hadn't gotten jealous, they hadn't gotten angry. They had never struggled like this. They had never doubted themselves like this.

"I know your dirty little secret," the villain said. "I know you like me. You like this."

"I didn't try to hide it," the hero said.

"Not from me. But the public."

"What are you trying to...?"

"Oh, poor hero," the villain murmed. "See, the difference between you and me is, that I do not care about you. If this gets to one, just one flimsy reporter, the people will turn against you. I can ruin your entire career. Your entire life."

The hero had miscalculated. Obviously, they hadn't expected their nemesis to feel the same. But they also hadn't expected them to tell the public. To use the public against the hero. It was a little shameless. But the hero was even more disgusted by their admiration for it.

"So?" the hero asked. Losing the public was a detrimental loss, that much was clear. But was it even measurable next to the fights with the villain? Did it even matter? When the hero could feel this euphoric? This alive? When had the public ever made them feel that way? "I would still have you."

"I do not love you," the villain argued. "You're not as important to me as you think."

"Give it some time," the hero said. "You will love me, don't worry. Everyone does."

The villain simply laughed at that. It was nearly soft. Or maybe the hero wanted it to be. It didn't matter.

"I have to admit, I am quite interested in what you have in store for me. How will you act once the public calls you a traitor? What will you do when I refuse to fight you? You are-" with their index finger, the villain traced the hero's thoat "-so very unique."

"Is that attraction?"

"Obligatory interest."

"And you say you're not in love."

They stared at each other until, finally, the villain dropped them. They cleared their throat and tilted their head. But the hero swallowed blood when their head nearly smashed against the concrete floor.

"I like toying with you, that is all."

"Sure," the hero said. They clutched their heart, tried to breathe. Being close to the villain was a gift, no matter how much it hurt. The hero loved it, loved their words, loved their personality, loved the challenge. It was insane, the hero felt completely deranged. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

And the hero was excited. So very excited for the next weeks.

[impossiblepluto]

hey there :) just sliding into your inbox to ask if you have any other particular favorite CSI episodes aside from grave danger/stalker/gum drops? I got a little taste of Nick whump and now I'm fiending for more 👉👈

Nick just whumps so well, it gets under your skin. He's the youngest of like seven kids, the son of a judge and a lawyer and is always trying so hard to win everyone's approval and feeling like he's no one's favorite. It's like catnip to me but unfortunately, there's not enough of it. CSI friends, help me out, if one has already watched Stalker, Grave Danger, and Gum Drops is this really all that's left? 15 years, you'd think they could have given us a little more.

1x06 "Who Are You?" is a favorite episode of mine. When the ending leaves you feeling a little disappointed, I've got this missing scene

1x13 "Boom" is more of emotional whump with Nick's job on the line

10x23/11x01 Meat Jekyll/Shockwaves is the culmination of Season 10's serial killer arc but not the conclusion of that story. It is fantastic whump. I think it'll probably hit even without backstory

11x15 Targets of Obsession

There is a lot of emotional whump in 8x17/9x01 but warning for MCD. If you do watch these episodes, you should also watch 13x01 Karma to Burn Other non-whumpy episodes I enjoy: 1x08 Anonymous- friendly competition between Nick and Warrick 1x09 The Unfriendly Skies 3x02 The Accused is Entitled 3x10 High and Low 4x11 Eleven Angry Jurors 6x21 Rashomama 9x16 Turn Turn Turn 14x13 Boston Brakes 14x14 De Los Muertos (Nick's look in this episode is my inspiration for Jack's look in "Not on Jack's Watch)

Ted Danson joins the cast in season 12 and I really enjoy his character. I also feel like his presence allows Nick to come into his own as an investigator whereas there would also be a little more mentor/student to Nick and Grissom's relationship.

[thewarriorandthethief]

elijah mikaelson has done so much for horny bitches everywhere

[pixelatedraindrops]

Yuma Month: Day 24: Mirror

A mysterious and fateful first encounter…?

[skyward-floored]

Trying sooooo hard to finish this IAU fic ACK it’s been almost done for what feels like forever and I just haven’t managed to end it 😡

[maybeitsalivescribbles]

VH - Divide And Conquer

(Tw: attempted torture)

“I can't believe we finally have caught the legendary Vampire Hero”, said Villain.

The two Heroes glanced at each other and shrugged. The taller one frowned.

“Legendary ?” he repeated.

Villain looked at him with interest.

“Oh yes,” he said. “Many have fallen before your might, Vampire Hero. At least two or three of my opponents are behind the bars because of you.”

“Two or three and you call that legendary ? You're easy to impress.”

The other Hero was nervously following the exchange. Compared to his companion, he seemed much younger and frailer. His eyes were shinier and shinier with tears that did not quite fall. When at least it looked like he couldn't take it anymore, he stepped between the two, saying:

“Stop ! It's my fault ! It's all my fault if we got caught. Hurt me, not him!”

Villain gave the young Hero an amused look:

“Why is that little thing with you, Vampire Hero ?”

His interlocutor shrugged:

“You know. He's new. I'm supposed to show him the ropes or something. You have to teach them some way or some other. ”

“Is that so.”

Villain lift the smaller Hero's chin with a finger:

“My dear little one, how can I hurt him ? Many have tried and many have failed. I'll just make him have a nice little sunbath so he's neutralized. But since you've asked so nicely, I will take care of you.”

“Surely there must be another way ! I'm sure you can do better. I-I'm sure that deep inside, you're a little pure of heart.”

“ You heard your protector, you need to learn.”

He grabbed Hero by the arm, who turned his head toward the man who accompanied him. The latter just shrugged.

“Do you think he cares ?” simpered Villain to his ear. “Oh, he doesn't. He might be on your side, but Vampire Hero is evil. You're better off with me.”

Hero whimpered but didn't resist as he was dragged into the stairs.

“There are seventeen steps. Do you hear the sound they make ? There's an echo, so the prisoners down there can hear me coming. It’s all in the anticipation.”

In a sweet voice, he kept describing their surroundings while they were both descending into his torture room. During all the way, the small one didn’t dare fight back. He soon found himself tied up to a chair, helplessly squirming, his eyes giving a pleading look more than ever.

“So, young Hero,” purred Villain, “as it is your first time, I will make you a favor.”

“R-Really ?”

“Yes. Do you see all these instruments in the shelf in front of you ?”

Hero looked at the whips, the canes and the nails, and shuddered so violently it almost looked fake.

“I'm going to let you choose one among them. If not, I will choose, and you won't like it very much if I do.”

“You don't have to do this ! I-You just will make Vampire Hero angry and you don't want to !”

“You think he will rescue you?”

“I know he will.”

“How touching. But for now you're mine. So make your choice, before I get impatient.”

Hero pondered for a few seconds, then whispered:

“Um – the taser ? Yes – the taser, please.���

“If you ask so nicely.”

Villain delicately took the black rectangular shape in his hand and switched it on.

“Why, if I might ask ? Do you think it will hurt less than the others ? Let me prove you wrong.”

The half-hour that happened then looked much more pleasant for Villain than for Hero. And yet, as time passed, Villain felt somewhat uneasy. That had nothing to do with torturing a man, of course. He liked the thrashing, he liked the begging, he liked the naive faith of the innocent who was certain that he could be saved. Maybe that had something to do with the other Hero. While Villain was amusing himself, Vampire Hero was out of his sight. He might have been careless. He glanced at his watch, but Hero making a rather unconvincing whimper forced him to turn his head.

Perhaps that was the problem. Villain was used to the sounds of pain – the gasps, the moans, the howls, the cries and the pleas. He loved all of them without distinction, and of course he knew that they were a little different with each person. It was a familiar melody that Hero was singing, but thinking about it, it was slightly out of tune, and it got progressively worse. It was getting on his nerves. These rookies these days – they didn't even now how to scream right.

“Let's have a break,” he said.

“Oh well, I guess I’ve held that long.”

Villain raised an eyebrow, amused:

“Getting defiant, are we ? Careful, you sound like you’re disappointed.”

He stared into his prisoner’s eyes, hoping to get a look of terror, but all he got was a frown. Hero...genuinely looked displeased.

“Sorta”, he said. “In my time I didn’t have this kind of toys to play with. I guess having a little blue spark in your hand looks fun, but that doesn’t look like it does that much damage.”

“In your time ? What are you talking ab- wait.”

Hero tilted his head. For a moment he sounded impassible, but he broke soon enough. A loud, loud laugh resonated in the room, while the prisoner was squirming in his chair for a very different reason than before. His way of moving betrayed no pain at all.

“Are you shitting me,” said Villain, whose voice was now icy.

Hero grinned:

“You tell me, pal. I can’t believe you swallowed my “pure of heart” bullshit. I was laying it on so thick.”

Villain glared at him.

“Not that you were especially subtle either”, Hero added. “Oooh, the anticipation !” Do that again?”

Villain stood up and went to the door as fast as self-respect allowed. There was no one left under the sunlight. The guards were on the ground, unconscious.

“How -”

He turned back. Hero was now standing up, neglectfully throwing away the remnants of the straps that held him a moment before. He dramatically exclaimed, a hand on his heart:

“Oh no, he got away ! My, my. Poor little me. Tell you what, though. If Vampire Hero was so legendary, you should have bothered to know what he looks like. I didn’t mean to pass for someone else, but you’ve so graciously given me the opportunity.”

“It can’t be ! How could the – the other have escaped then ?”

“I hate to break it to you, but they are several heroes with super strength.”

Villain blushed and stayed quiet, his lips pursed. Hero picked up the taser, looked at it with curiosity, and switched it on. With a smile – a very worrying smile - he got closer.

“Hey, I warned you. I told you that Vampire Hero was going to rescue me.”

*

Vampire Hero is a recurring character. His job is to troll current villains. Check the Vampire Hero Masterlist or Tag for more snippets with him.

Or back to Hero x Villain Masterlist.

[dogueteeth-fhr]

29 for the whump prompt? 👀

29. “It’s not your fault. Come here.”

(Remy & Chen, Post-Catastrofiend)

"Where did I go wrong?"

Remy's eyes haven't left the sign since Chen got here ten minutes ago. No flicker from them, no response as Chen asked if he has been seen yet (he knew the answer, but asked anyways). No habitual flinch as Chen moved to sit beside him on the bench, still no response as Chen grimaced at the sticky substance that coated the metal joints of his fingers when he sat down. Chen couldn't tell if it was Remy's or...

Well. Remy can be surprisingly stoic for one so soft and timid. Shirking off damage like it's nothing, fighting on in reckless abandon like a cornered mouse. Maybe that's another reason he doesn't trust Remy.

"... there was nothing you could've done," Chen says, letting his eyes leave the tear in black and bloody teal uniform where he suspects the liquid is leaking from. Letting them stare up at the bright vermillion sign.

In Operation.

It makes his stomach churn. He hates it. Hates staring at it. Hates not knowing if it will black out or turn green. Hates not knowing if it will be Julia carted out of there, worse for wear but patched up, or a corpse.

"Nothing is ever certain when we're sent out against an enemy like that. I'm... sure you did everything you could to protect Ortega."

Does he believe it? He wants to, despite every logical neuron in his brain telling him that maybe he's wrong, maybe he's reading Remy wrong, it's just a trap to make him think that Remy could care. He's not even upset, not even angry, or sad. Just staring, staring, staring, face blank, saying nothing but this, staring at the neon sign.

"Bullshit."

"Excuse m—"

"Bullshit!" Remy barks, and Chen is embarrassed that he's startled, embarrassed that he balks a bit as Remy shoots up. For all the delicate frame and short stature of the vigilante, there's something in his stance that screams danger in Chen's lungs, his fists, his hackles, raising his hair on end. Remy's stormy eyes look mad, the crimson light a halo on ink-black hair. He looks inhuman.

And for a moment, Chen pauses and wonders if he's ever seen Remy angry.

"You're so full of bullshit, Chen," his name is spat in his face as Remy grabs his shirt collar, and not even the glare that usually sends Remy into a submissive hunker can stop his eyes from burning through Chen's soul now. "I've already heard this stupid spiel from Themmy. How I did everything I could. How she's 'going to be okay,' that I can't tear myself up over what I did or didn't do. I know you, you know every little mistake I do, see every little bad decision I make on the field, you've torn me a-fucking-part before, so don't you dare hold back on me now."

He hasn't, hasn't ever seen him angry before, and maybe that's why he finds himself tongue-tied. Brain on mute, memorizing every detail, every wrinkle carved into that alabaster face, curved around bared teeth, framing the gap in the front. How strong those thin hands grasp the cloth of his shirt in a death grip. How those hurricane eyes look, watery, clouded, dripping onto his shirt, hands shaking and mouth shuddering around a barely-swallowed sob.

"I failed. I failed to protect her, and now I'm going to lose her."

Chen is not prepared for this.

"I should have run faster. I should have been smarter. Oh, god, did I ever suggest that we split up?"

Anathema should be here for this, not him.

"Fuck, Chen... I did this to her. I fucked up, and it got to her, spilled her guts open, and oh god, I- they were so warm in my hands, I- fuck, oh god, I killed her. I messed up, I was too late, and I killed her and I'm never going to see her again and I—"

"Shh," Chen whispers, slowly, gently, enough for Remy to bolt if he wanted, to shove him away and disappear, circling his arms around Remy. Pulling him closer as the youngster gasps for breath amidst his sobs, feeling all of his years as Remy curls into him. Like his little sister used to. "It's not your fault. Come here."

He doesn't know how long he stays there. Arms around Remy, holding him close, listening to him sob. Miserable. Unsure if he's helping. Feeling conflicted that he cares enough to want to. Wishing he just knew if Julia is going to be alright. Wishing that stupid red sign would turn green. Wishing he could believe it when he says it's not Remy's fault. Being glad the hospital has built-in dampeners so Remy can't pick that thought up while he's sniffling and cradled in Chen's arms.

He really is the worst person for this.

[s-ephiroth]

i often thought, through all these years, like

"i'll leave this fandom someday"

i've seen people come and go, i've seen people completely delete and vanish and i've tried to mourn the hole they left behind when they went

(tried to, because i'm not good at mourning, i feel... i'm better at coping, at entering survival mode and just pushing through, and hiding the tears for when nobody is looking; i mourn extremely messy and never ending... i mourn any time i title a fic in full lowercase and think of the things icy said back then;

(i mourn when i see pages that will never update again and records of things from years ago — seeing how friends and i were so different back then, less paranoid, perhaps more carefree, less pained by the weight of world; seeing once busy chat rooms fall quiet even though people are still there, seeing people change fandoms... i mourn now even though i'm making a silly pun on a friend's stream chat)

i thought that one day i would be the next one to go, too

because somewhere in this world there are people who can't simply let others enjoy stuff on their corner or people who can't just give you a rejection email like a normal person and have to dodge a block to mock you, there are people out there who can't just say "i dislike this thing" and move on, instead coming up with convoluted excuses for why the thing is bad, while basking in equally messy stuff to what they bash

there are stalkers, there are people who go on your ao3 fic to ask why you blocked them, there are cowards who send people anon hate for months, people who crap comment on bookmarks, bullies who persist for years

there's a lot of bad and i often thought "maybe i'll be the next one to go... but... will someone miss me, when i go?"

the pessimist in me says people would miss me for a while, then forget

maybe eventually someone would be like "where are the prompts for sc/seph weeks?" and i would've been missed for a moment, then forgotten again

surely someone would come up with replacement events, maybe not

it would be okay... perhaps

the world keeps spinning and i'm but a little rock rolling along the river of time, as they say; ultimately, on my own i'm near powerless

i can't fully protect people i admire from their bullies, i can't stop drama bs from happening, i can barely bring myself to be creative quite often because my energy is limited

i can't rewind time and prevent one of my friends from being traumatized for life

surely one day i would be the next one to go; my self-esteem isn't very high, i don't really think of myself as too important

hell i almost died twice before, due to things outside of my control, i think of my own mortality and how fleeting stuff is a lot more than i'm willing to admit

probably someone like me would be the next to go, from fandom i mean, is what i think when i see people stop doing things they loved because others were evil to them

"surely, this time i'll not come back to public with art, it's not like some silly chibis are desired, it's not like my computer is robust enough, i was never given an excuse for why exactly i was rejected from that zine, maybe it was personal bias but maybe just maybe i really should fail, maybe what i do is not enough anyway... maybe if i come back those kinds of people will hunt me down like prey... but hey it's valentine's day, what if i force myself to do something"

it's not like anyone would've cared much, anyway

i could be the next one to go; the remake brought in too many ill intended people and icy was right in leaving, remake changed the climate

but for every single discourse bs that happens, for every no life person who manipulates others, even though there are too many people who have to touch grass

sometimes... sometimes you appreciate a piece of good fan art for 4 years, often going back from time to time to share it with others, looking at it when things feel too hard and the artist comes back to it, redraws it

and you just think "fuck... i need to do something too!!! i've thought of the original so much, i watched from afar for too long, it watered my dying crops over and over and over"

and i do... and i befriend the artist somehow? and there's official material related to the subject matter, and i befriend other people too and fuck, fuck, fuck—

turns out there way more people than i thought into the subject matter too!!! and even more official material coming out after years of just having this one shortish game to go by, the one thing to bring me into the fandom in the first place

and i just think

"i can't leave... i like it here, i hope no one takes this from me, i'll gladly shield people if i have to, i'll throw hands if i have to"

and suddenly, i can't be the next one to go and this post is turning much longer than i expected it to, while i'm bawling my eyes out from being too emotional while watching a stream

and you, reading this, as long as you're an innocent bystander who contributes in some way, even if you just mostly lurk and don't get involved much? you shouldn't go either

the world is a fuck on fire right now, but maybe you make it less so, for someone

maybe you're someone's favorite artist or writer or cosplayer; maybe someone is still waiting on that fic you haven't updated in like 3 years or maybe someone's seeing you go on hiatus and worrying, "will... will i see you again?"

you never know

maybe you'll indeed, move fandoms some day, find another place to lurk in with people you can affectionately call your "favorite losers" or maybe life will get too busy, maybe you need a short break to detox

but while that doesn't happen, please don't go?

please don't go

[rainbowsandwhumperflies]

The Winged Servant drabble

No. 5: SUNBURN Healing Salve | Heatstroke | "If my pain will stretch that far." (Lottery Winners, Burning House)

Some parallel scenes because I love putting my characters in pain. One of these is from when Onyx was 17 (living a happy life) and the other one was when he was 19 (a servant). He remembers one of these events and unfortunately it is not the cute happy one.

masterlist

content warnings: sunburns, idk honestly this is pretty light but let me know if I forgot anything

“Your shoulders look pretty red, Onyx,” Ethan said.

I twisted around, trying uselessly to look at my back. “Really? Again?”

“Did you not use sunscreen? I reminded you to, like, a gazillion times.”

I laughed, giving up and sitting back down. “You reminded me like… twice, maybe. I kept forgetting. Ask Ember if they've got aloe vera.”

“No need, I know where it is.” Ethan left the room, probably digging around in the bathroom. “It might be expired,” he yelled loud enough for me to hear him.

“I don't care, E. It doesn't even hurt that bad, honestly.”

He snorted with disbelief, rubbing some of the gel onto my shoulders. “You really should be more careful about this, sweetheart. You're going to get skin cancer or something.”

“I'll be fine.” I leaned into his touch, closing my eyes. “I'm sorry. I thought my wings would protect my back better.”

“You would think that,” he sighed. “Whatever. Now that we're back from the beach, it's ice cream time. Come on.”

~

“How the fuck did you manage to get a sunburn?” the prince asked. “We were outside for, like, an hour.”

“I'm sorry, Your Highness.” We had been outside for longer than an hour, I thought, and no one had offered me sunscreen. It didn't matter, though. What mattered was that I had gotten burnt.

“I don’t think we have aloe vera.”

That was fine. Medical supplies were a privilege that had to be earned, and I didn’t have the energy to earn any tonight. “I’ll be okay, Your Highness. Thank you for the concern.”

He sighed. “Be more careful next time, Onyx. Injuries affect your productivity.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

~

taglist: @kaleidoscope-of-thoughts @toyybox @rainydaywhump @risk606

[guys-in-distress-database]

Confirmation! Vindication! Validation!

[pigeonwhumps]

Telepathy and doctors

Immortal Cannon Fodder masterlist

Taglist: @extrabitterbrain @wolfeyedwitch @fuckcapitalismasshole @ghost-whump @whump-tr0pes @rainbowsandwhumperflies @painful-pooch @i-eat-worlds @a-funeral-romance @rainydaywhump

Santhiya, aged five, gets taken to the doctor's to find out why she keeps fainting all the time.

Based on this.

1.9k

CWs: minor whump (kinda), medical setting (mostly), mentions of bullying, fear of abandonment, mention of abandonment of a child, superpowers whump, fingerprick test (brief), mention of other medical tests, chronic condition/disability

"She keeps fainting," explains Santhiya's mum to the doctor, via an interpreter. Really, Santhiya thinks as she swings her legs back and forth on the chair, she's a bit insulted. She could do it.

"How often does this happen? And how long do these fainting episodes last?"

"Two or three times a week. It's only about a minute or so, but they worry us."

"I understand that," says the doctor calmly, writing something down. "Is there any unifying factors where she's more likely to have them? Times, places?"

Santhiya's mum goes quiet for a few minutes, and then she says, "Crowded places. She has a lot at school and her dance performances. And when we play games or her dad is working from home."

The doctor nods, and then turns to Santhiya. "These fainting episodes, can you describe them for me?"

Santhiya nods. "They're horrible. I feel like– this big emotion, and then I hear some voices that feel like that, and then I'm waking up on the floor or slumped in my seat and people are there and it's embarrassing."

"What sort of emotion?"

"Lots of different ones. And the voices seem to be feeling that too. I don't understand it."

"That's okay. We'll try our best to work it out. Thank you for telling me all that." He turns back to her mum. "I can't diagnose anything right at the moment, but I'd like to order a few tests, if that's okay. And refer Santhiya to a neurologist."

"That's brains? You think there's something wrong with her brain?" Her mum sounds worried, which makes Santhiya worried.

"I don't know, Mrs Choudhary. It's probably nothing to worry about. I'd like to order an MRI and a CT scan. It'd be up to her neurologist whether or not they want them, but the waiting lists for those tests can be quite long and that'll give us a head start. I'd also like to do a blood test, the clinic is still open next door. And there are a few things I'd like the two of you to do. Is that okay?"

Santhiya's mum swallows and nods. "I'll do what you think is best. I just want my daughter to get better. What do I need to do?"

The doctor smiles. "I'd like you to keep a food diary until you see a neurologist. That should be about two weeks, give or take. Feed her as you normally would, this is just to see whether anything such as sodium or blood sugar levels could be what's causing her fainting. And I'd like you to do a fingerprick test the next time she faints and is with you, if possible."

Her mum glances at her. "How do I do it?"

"I can demonstrate, if your daughter doesn't mind. Santhiya? It would just be a small prick."

Santhiya nods and shifts in her seat. She doesn't particularly want to do it but her mum seems to think it's fine so it probably is.

"Okay. Mrs Choudhary, if you'd like to come over here." He pulls out a kit and opens it, then opens a little pack displaying a needle. "It'll just be a little prick with this needle, okay Santhiya?"

Santhiya nods, eyeing the needle nervously. Her mum squeezes her hand. The doctor demonstrates how to prick her finger with the needle, then let it drip into a little pot. She doesn't like it. But it only has to happen once.

And besides, he's given her a butterfly plaster.

"Do it as soon as she wakes up, if you can. I'll print you off a blood test form, food diary and some guides to the tests. We'll find out what's going on as soon as we can, okay Santhiya?"

Santhiya nods. At some point, she's stopped swinging her legs, but she bounces off the chair and takes her mum's hand again when it's time to leave.

The blood test is scary, but as her mum helps her back on with her coat (the nice yellow one with the furry hood) she promises her some dosi from the nice shop on the way home, so Santhiya thinks it's probably worth it.

_

The neurologist's office is nicer than the other doctor's. The waiting room is in bright colours and the office is a nice blue with fish on the walls. It should probably be butterflies, to match the ones in her stomach.

Over the next year, she has to have lots of scary tests done. She even has to stay in hospital for some of them. She gets concussion twice and breaks her arm. Her parents are worried. They try to hide it but she can tell.

She's delighted by the glove balloon one of the doctors gives her though. She loves it. And she has a fluffy toy lemur now.

Finally she's referred to yet another part of the hospital. This one has green walls with safari animals painted on them, and the actual room has a weird bed that looks like a flat elephant.

The doctor smiles at her as she and her mum enter.

"Good afternoon Santhiya, Mrs Choudhary. Please take a seat." She waits for them to make themselves comfortable. "As you might've guessed, we have a diagnosis for Santhiya. We believe she has telepathy. Specifically–"

Santhiya doesn't hear the rest because she bursts into tears. No. No she can't have that, she can't!

"Santhiya?" asks her mum, alarmed, as if from far away. "What's wrong?"

"They'll take me away! I don't wanna go away! I don't wanna leave you and dad and everything!"

"Take you away? Who told you that?"

"A boy at school! He said– he said that there was something wrong with me and it was probably powers and that they'd take me away and lock me up or you'd abandon me and then they'd hurt me and I don't want that! Please don't make me!"

"Hey. Hey, look at me." Her mum cups her face in her hands and she tries to blink away the blurry vision. "Have I ever given you reason to believe I'd do anything like that?"

"No but he said you'd change your mind once you knew what I was! And his parents did, so–"

"I would defend you with my life. I don't care if anyone tries to take you, I am never letting that happen. Listen, Santhiya. You're my daughter. You always will be, whatever happens. I'd never let anyone do anything to you. Yeah?"

Santhiya nods and grabs her mum, pulling herself close. She eyes the doctor warily.

"Sorry."

Her mum kisses her on the head. "No apologies. Are you okay to continue?"

Santhiya nods and her mum sits down, gently pulling her onto her lap. "What do we do now?"

"I'll explain the details of her condition in a minute, including what it looks like on the scans. I think you'll like looking at them, Santhiya, even if you don't understand them. You can see your eyes on them." Santhiya's eyes widen. Wow. "But basically, Santhiya, you're picking up on people's thoughts and emotions, even when you're not trying to, and it's too much. You're strong enough to go deep into people's minds, but their views of the world and their thoughts and emotions are too much for you."

"Oh." That... that actually makes sense. She thinks on it for a moment. "Does that mean that it's their emotions and voices I get before I faint?"

"I believe so."

"I don't want to read their minds." It's not fair without asking and she doesn't want to faint either.

"I know. That's why we're going to help you. Santhiya, Mrs Choudhary, do you both want to know what the possible next steps are?"

Santhiya nods, and her mum says, "Please."

The doctor nods. "Santhiya, do you remember the last time you were in hospital and you had your head measured? And they showed you different colours of fabric and had you choose which one you liked best?"

Santhiya nods enthusiastically. She'd chosen the sparkly rainbow one.

"Well, it was for this." She pulls out something that looks like a... helmet? Fabricy helmet? Santhiya's not sure. But it's sparkly rainbow, just like she chose.

"It's for you to wear while you're out, to protect your head. I don't think any of us want to wrap you in bubble wrap but it will hopefully protect against you getting concussion again. Unless your mum really doesn't want you wearing one, I'd like you to try it on."

"Go ahead."

Santhiya takes the helmet and pulls it over her head. Her mum does up the straps and holds her hand as they walk to the mirror.

Santhiya tilts her head to one side, then the other. She likes the fabric, the way it shimmers in the light. But...

She bites her lip, seeing it wobble. It still looks silly. She'll be teased for it, she knows it, she already is for her fainting and going into hospital so much, and she's lost her friends because they don't want to associate with her or their parents don't want her around. This is going to make it worse.

"Do I have to?" she whispers, the words just for her mum. Not for the interpreter or the doctor, just between them.

"I'd like you to. It would keep you safe. And maybe we can go out more if we don't have to worry about concussion."

Santhiya perks up a little. "Can I go back to dance?"

"If the doctor says it's safe I don't see why not. Provided you wear the helmet."

Santhiya swallows. She doesn't want to but if it gets her back into dance...

"I'll do it."

Her mum smiles, and nods at the doctor. "She'll wear it."

"Excellent." Santhiya hops back into her seat. The helmet feels weird. "I'll refer you to a nurse specialist in addition to your appointments with me to help with issues such as dealing with schools. At this point we recommend counselling for Santhiya. With telepathy, there might be things she picks up on that she doesn't understand, or that hurt, and she needs to talk to someone outside her family about them. And for you and your husband, too, as her parents, to help with what you might be feeling about all this."

"The online booklets mentioned training?" asks her mum cautiously.

"Oh, you've done your research. Yes, we offer that too. It usually starts a little older, but since Santhiya's powers are already fast developing we can start early. With telepathy, it involves simple exercises to help her brain develop ways of making other's thoughts and emotions quieter."

"So– so does that mean I can't cheat at cards anymore?"

The doctor laughs. "I'm afraid so."

_

"And that's why I don't like your parents," finishes Santhiya. She's never told anyone the whole story before.

Phoenix frowns. "I've, um, never heard of these, um, services."

"Which is why I don't like your parents. How could anyone expect you to control your powers without training?"

Phoenix hums, cocking their head as they look at the photo album. "You know, it, um, it actually kind of suits you. It's your style."

Santhiya shoves them, laughing. "Oh shut up. I never should've let my mum show you these."

"She's proud of you. And, um, you might've lost your friends then but you, um, you have me now. And everyone else but, um, especially me."

Santhiya grins and kisses her, long and hard. "Oh, definitely you."

[mwolf0epsilon]

Superhero AU - Keeping Sane while in Hell

Keeping the Superhero AU pain train rolling!

This time, we discuss some occurrences during training & the families of the abductees trying to find their loved ones through various means.

Previous Posts: [X] [X] ---

For the most part, the troops are kept in a single building that's been converted into high security barracks/prison cells. There's a few exceptions who are confined to windowless cells (Alpha-17, Dogma, Hardcase, etc...) because their powers make them harder to control/contain, but otherwise the situation is honestly quite communal. Which, at the end of the day, is what keeps everyone relatively sane.

They form a support network, with some of the abductees taking others under their wing and becoming protective of them (Fives immediately just pulls Tup into the Dominoes unit because the kid is considerably younger than everyone else and has no idea what happened to his twin, Cody and his gang of childhood pals take a shine to Rex really quickly, Fox and Wolffe form their own groups, etc...), while others gravitate towards the more assertive/calming presences in their shared space.

It makes the intense training bearable to be able to endure all of whatever their captors have in store for them, only to then have someone there to comfort and listen to you. Someone that can relate to your plight.

After all powers have been gauged and rated, and Palpatine has decided which troopers belong in the Hero group and which are better suited for the Villain group, the training becomes more combat intensive. A schedule is set up that consists of "learning modules" about controlling their newfound powers, hand to hand combat, weaponry training and then bringing all of it together.

They start off with training dummies. Then sophisticated battle robots. And then the beasts that were created during earlier experiments with the concoction.

Overtime, people who's powers were more unstable are integrated into the group. But Tup has still not been reunited with his twin. The reason why becomes obvious during a test.

One of the first conclusions Palpatine makes when presented with the more unstable abilities some troopers have, is to find ways to forcefully suppress them to better control them.

The two clone babies that were created in the first version of the super-soldier experiments (Boba and Omega) are by the time of current events already 10 years old (these experiments have been taking place for years, with Hemlock's version only recently yielding positive results), and through the use of specially designed harnesses their slowly developing powers can be suppressed.

This method is ideal for Hardcase (the harness considerably mellows him out to the point he's a little sluggish) and Alpha-17 (it prevents him from being able to build up magmatic crust to create a construct body), but not so much for Dogma who has been stuck as a kaiju for a very long time. He's too scared to change back, and far too large to be so easily controlled. On top of that he's so frightened he lashes out. In Palpatine's eyes he's only good for one thing, and it's to make his group of heroes look good. The city has seen kaiju activity before, it wouldn't be strange to have one attack out of the blue.

All he really needs is to keep the kid terrified. Which he succeeds in a rather brutal manner.

By gradually teaching the group to fight beasts, Palpatine slowly conditions them to attack anything remotely monstrous without a thought (It doesn't matter if this used to be someone's beloved pet cat, now it's a ferocious sabertoothed tiger with two heads and a spiked tail. It doesn't matter if this used to be a stray pup, it's become a slobbering ravenous beast that is starved enough to eat a whole person). The only one to hesitate at all when Dogma is thrown at the group (still unaware of what is going on, or where he is, or what's even happened to him) is Tup, and that's because he knows his twin is the kaiju. Sadly his cries for everyone to stop fall on deaf ears and Dogma gets to experience the full force of everyone else's powers.

It's only when the poor kid falls unconscious and finally changes back out of exhaustion that Palpatine's deceit comes to light (You can guess how everyone reacts to the thought of having attacked and beaten up a 12 year old, the twin of which is besides himself with anger because none of them listened to him). But the damage is done. Dogma is terrified of the group, so it doesn't take much to activate his power at all. The only thing keeping him human is medication (that he has a specific schedule to take, unless he's 'needed' in which case he's essentially a walking time-bomb) specially made to keep his transformation at bay.

Until the day they are deployed, training gets no less brutal. Palpatine intends to break their spirits, but he never quite manages. Because, even though they all go through unspeakable horrors in the facility and comply with most of his whims, the troopers still do what they can to keep the hope of their eventual freedom going.

After Dogma's first "session" it also became easy for Slick to track down where he's being kept, so both he and Tup take to sneaking through the vents to at least comfort their brother and try to lessen the damage of his isolation. In due time, others join him. Some are welcomed more easily... Others Dogma cannot stand to be near out of sheer terror (Rex is unfortunately someone he's perpetually scared of, because he's the one expected to beat the kaiju anytime Palpatine decides the city is due for a monster mash).

There's also the matter of Boba and Omega becoming curious of the captives and sneaking off to either observe or engage with them (Boba is a little more distant and prefers to not talk to anyone, while Omega takes a liking to CF99 and openly talks to them and asks them questions).

Outside of the facility, the families of the abductees are not staying idle. Some (like Slick, Tup and Dogma's mom) were injured when the powers first manifested themselves and cannot look for answers more actively due to said injuries, but still maintain in contact with others who they have discovered are on the same boat. The ones who did not sustain injuries try to make sense of what little they know or saw (no one knows the military took their loved ones, but they saw strange vans, helicopters and other vehicles with some kind of logo on them), and try to keep everyone else informed.

And then there's those who don't even know if their loved ones are alive...

The Lawquanes live on their farm in the countryside. They have no idea what's happened to Rex. All they know is that one night the news showed something calamitous happening in the city, and their "daughter's" (remember, Rex hadn't had the time to even come out to them as trans) apartment was one of many buildings destroyed. They haven't been contacted by Rex since then and they believe he's one of several casualties. They still want answers.

To top it all off, Cut's older brother and nephews have also not been in contact, so there's no real way to get those answers than to go to the big city themselves. They don't know what they're getting themselves into at all...

[whumpitisthen]

I am this 🤏 close to finishing the next chapter it is almost done i checked and I couldn't believe it but i made the google doc in the first half of April and now nearly two months and several rewrites later it is here i hope the people will enjoy it :)