#augusnippets day 6

[whumplump]

Day 6 of @augusnippets

Prompts used: car accident / plane crash / shipwreck

CW: immortal whumpee, stoic whumpee, implied character death, flashbacks

Whumpee looked in the mirror and felt several things. This time, however, they came all at once, one after the other.

Once, excruciating pain throughout the body, especially in the legs. Ah, the legs... They couldn't move them. They were broken. The bones cracked beneath the skin like saltine crackers.

In another case, dizziness, a constant shaking in the head, an illness so strong that it caused nausea and almost caused vomiting. But there was no time to vomit before the pressure injured the brain inside the skull and caused death.

In the latter case, the cold, muscle pain, both from the effort to swim and from the reduced temperature of the wind and water. Sinking them up to the neck, until it covers their entire body. The burning in the lungs... The lack of air... And as always, then came the darkness.

Whumpee shook their head, trying to shake the memories away. Caretaker appeared at the bathroom door, looking at them worriedly.

Whumpee took three pills for their stomach pain and swallowed them all at once, without the aid of water. Caretaker was startled.

"You shouldn't take so many at once," they said, "you might overdose, you might even die!"

Whumpee gave a sarcastic laugh. "If only it were that easy.”

Caretaker always said those same words. The day was repeating itself again. This maddening loop where, at the end of the day, Whumpee always died, but at the same time... never really died.

They passed Caretaker with a deliberate shoulder bump.

"I wonder how many times I'll have to die before the drug overdose is the next thing to kill me!”

[whumper-whimsy]

@augusnippets day 6

car accident/ plane crash/ ship wreck

Potentially triggering and graphic description of a car crash, ambiguous whether Whumpee survives

°

Caretaker drove down the highway on his way back from picking Whumpee up. The other man sat beside him, singing along to the catchy pop songs on the radio.

The highway wasn't busy by any means, and Caretaker let himself climb over the speed limit.

55 miles an hour. 60, 65, 70.

His headlights were bright— he could easily see anything that popped onto the road.

He continued on, humming along and tapping the wheel on beat.

A car in the other lane was made visible by the headlights. Right as it was about to pass by Caretaker's vehicle, a deer popped out into the open road.

It all happened so fast. The other car took a sharp left, cutting into Caretaker's lane. Caretaker turned to his left, trying to avoid a head-on collision.

One moment, Whumpee was singing along cheerfully to terrible pop music. The next, the right side of the car was crumpled, taking the brunt of the crash. Caretaker was alright— shocked and a little bruised up, but— oh God, was Whumpee breathing?

Caretaker shouted for help, avoiding looking at the mess in the passenger seat. He sobbed and tried to get out, finding his dashboard had been shoved in and trapped his leg. He hadn't felt it before, but fuck, it was starting to hurt. He grabbed his phone, calling the police. As soon as a dispatcher picked up, Caretaker began blabbering into his microphone.

"Send somebody, please! T- there's been a car crash on the highway between City X and City Y, and I don't know if Whumpee is alive and i don't wanna look, and‐ and i don't know how bad the other driver is, and I'm trapped and— please, get here and save Whumpee!"

The dispatcher attempted to calm him down, assuring that police and paramedics were on their way. Caretaker hung up, putting his phone down.

Still without looking, Caretaker reached his hand out to touch Whumpee's skin. It was warm and wet, and Caretaker held in a sob. "Whumpee..? Whumpee, come on, say something. Tell me you're alright." Caretaker bit his lip, fighting more tears. "Come on, don't make me look... I don't— please!"

Caretaker felt up the limb— an arm, he assumed— and tried to touch Whumpee's neck to check a pulse. He felt something solid embedded in the flesh, pulling back with a high-pitched wail. "No! Please!"

Sirens were audible in the distance, and Caretaker soon saw the emergency vehicles arrive. The paramedics hurried over in pairs of two to each side of each vehicle, pulling the doors open. Caretaker was checked over and pulled free from the vehicle.

The medics on Whumpee's side went back to their ambulance and came back with a stretcher, preparing it and starting to try and get the door open.

"Is he okay?" Caretaker asked the medics, stepping back towards the car. Gloved hands grabbed his shoulders, attempting to hold him back. "Is Whumpee okay?"

He was met with silence, so he pushed past the paramedics and to the car, looking in the window.

Whumpee was barely recognizable. He was covered in blood, his body slumped. Glass stuck out from his flesh in various places, and his right arm was nearly detatched.

Caretaker let out a howl of distress, screaming Whumpee's name as the medics pulled him back. "No! Whumpee!"

Caretaker crumpled, stricken with horror and grief. He clutched his head in his hands, flooded with anguish.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry..."

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Augusnippets Day 6: Car Crash

cw: car accident and resulting injuries, fear

next

for the @augusnippets challenge // word count: 502

=~=~=

The last thing he remembered was his body slamming into the driverside door. The asphalt rushing towards him, eager for collision, his shoulder screaming in pain. Darkness.

Kaius didn't want to open his eyes—or perhaps he couldn't. His face felt bruised. All of him felt bruised. He was lying on his side, still strapped to the seat, arm numb, head full of cotton, everything else ablaze with pain.

It all happened in an instant; so sudden Kaius could barely remember where he was driving, much less how he ended up here, but something in his stomach told him he was in danger, and he knew better than to ignore it. He snaked the arm that wasn't numb towards his waist, feeling a pinch of relief when he pushed the seatbelt release and it responded with the familiar click.

Both doors on the driver's side were flush with the road, impossible to open, but the windshield had exploded in a cloud of pebbled glass. He could feel it in his hair, down the collar of his jumper, crunching in the seat. His right knee screamed when he tried to get his heel onto the seat for a push, and the burst of pain stole his breath for an instant, leaving him panting on his side.

Breathe. Pain is just a warning. There are worse warnings all around you and you need to move.

He grit his teeth, curling his good hand around the frame that once held the windshield and pulling himself forward, stopping before he'd even cleared a centimeter. Every bit of him seemed to throb with the movement.

His fingers tightened, and with a scream that leaked past gritted teeth, he managed to drag himself forward, pulling with the arm that could move; kicking with the leg that only felt badly bruised.

Head clear, sweat plastering hair to his forehead, blood in his mouth. Torso out, hip resting on the twisted frame.

Another kick and Kaius was free; curled in a heap, heaving for air, shuddering with the pain and exertion. Mangled as the remains of his car.

He closed his eyes, trying to pull his thoughts into order through the haze of pain. What next? He couldn't walk, couldn't move far. The pavement, still hot from the day's sun, prickled his skin through his clothes, but he doubted the surrounding desert would offer much more in way of relief.

He had to… had to…

There'd been another car.

The memory struck him like a bullet, new fear ripping through him with its impact. That was the danger boiling in his stomach, the threat.

Someone had hit him. Direct strike, coming out of nowhere. Deliberate.

Kaius struggled to lift his head, to take a look around, but his body wouldn't obey. 

Someone had planned this, that he was sure of. Someone could be watching him right now, converging on his location, closing in.

But he could barely move, much less run.

There was nothing to do but await the inevitable.

[jamiesfootball]

Augusnippets Day 6

Prompt: car accident

cw: there is, in fact, a car accident. other than that no warnings apply

Summary:

"The other car, I just, I didn’t even fucking see it." - Ola receives an unexpected voicemail.

Here on ao3

“Thank you for calling! This is Ola. If you have reached my voicemail, then I am having a wonderful day. Please leave a message, and remember that there is more to life than missed connections.”

BEEEP.

“....Hello. Hello? Hi. Hi, Mr- Mr. Obisanya, sir. This is Jamie – Jamie Tartt. From football. Sam’s Jamie, um–”

Sniff.

“Um. The reason I’m calling, sir, is Sam- Sam’s in hospital right now. We were driving, coming home from the match, and I’d offered him a ride… I swear, I wasn’t- I wasn’t drinking or nothing. The other car, I just, I didn’t even fucking see it. I don’t know where it came from. But it hit- it hit- it hit the passenger’s side, and-” A muffled choke. A hitch-hitch-hitch of breath, composure gasping around a lump that mirrors the one stuck in Ola’s throat.

“He’s in surgery,” Sam’s Jamie keens into the receiver. “He’s in emergency surgery. I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do. They won’t tell me anything, and I don’t know what to do, but I thought you should know in case–”

“Mr. Tartt,” says another voice on another continent. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but we need to talk to you urgently.”

The line goes dead.

[the-rad-pineapple]

Day 6 of @augusnippets

car accident

loosely based off an OC i've been messing around with

Whumpee hasn’t really been okay since his dad “went missing” not even two weeks ago. The old, rich bastard deserved it. People have started to throw suspicious glances in Whumpee’s direction; he’s inherited the entirety of his father’s fortune after all, but that was never his motivation.

But, anyway, he’s driving along with (the only person in his life who hasn’t left him yet) his father’s ex-assistant and Whumpee’s close mentor in the passenger seat. The car in front of them is going wayyyy too fucking slow to be in the left lane, so Whumpee aggressively gets closer. 

Mentor gently reprimands him with, “Whumpee…”

“What!”

Red brake lights fill his vision, and he instinctively hits his own brakes. 

Oh, motherfucker, we’re too close.

And then it’s loud. 

Metal smashing together, glass shattering. 

His face is smacked, and his head is thrown back, hitting the headrest. His nose fucking hurts, and reactionary tears spill out of his eyes.

Then it’s quiet and still.

His neck is already starting to hurt like a bitch from the whiplash. A sharp, throbbing pain shoots up from his right leg. Nothing has ever hurt like this before. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

He groans and unbuckles his seatbelt. He turns to Mentor. 

Mentor is slumped back in his seat, his face turned away, neck bent all wrong. 

Wrong. 

It dings like a churchbell in his mind.

“Mentor!” Whumpee gently grabs Mentor’s shoulder with his right hand. It’s only then he notices he’s shaking when he sees his own trembling hand. 

Mentor doesn’t move. 

Panic fills Whumpee’s chest, and he desperately bats the airbag away and painfully leans over the center console. Sharp, hot pain shoots through his left side, and an embarrassing noise escapes him. He swears but presses on. 

He delicately lifts his right hand, still shaking, up to Mentor’s neck. 

No pulse.

He adjusts his hand five times.

No pulse.

Oh, god. 

Oh, god.

Panic suffocates him, and he’s suddenly pushing the car door open without remembering making the decision to do so. He stumbles out of the car, but the second he puts weight on his right leg, the worst pain he’s ever felt shoots through his entire body, his leg at the epicenter. The pain is so strong, it blinds him from everything else. He isn’t sure for how long. He’s just suddenly aware he’s on the ground now, ears ringing, panting heavily.

He flicks his eyes to the other car, praying the damage isn’t bad, but…

There’s his bumper and shattered headlights. A couple pieces of metal from a car of a different color, but the car itself isn’t there. 

The fucker drove away.

Whumpee can’t fucking do this by himself!! What the hell is he supposed to do??

The pain in his leg and side is unbearable. His neck feels more and more sore as time passes. He’s laying on the shoulder of the interstate. Completely alone. 

Delirious laughter bursts out of him. It literally cannot be worse than this. 

[silly-scroimblo-whump]

Nightmare

cw: past murder (hanging), ghost whumpee, nonhuman whumpee, whumpee turned caretaker, flashbacks, illusions @augusnippets bonus prompts (instead of day 6): flashbacks/relapse/medical complications

masterlist!

—— “M— mama.. where’s mama?” The boy barely manages to sob out, clinging desperately to the person who had led him here as the rope tightens. The person who had guided him — the executioner the boy had clung to — had one hand softly rubbing his back, the other holding his shaking body steady. “Spooks? Spooks, wake up.” Roux whines, tail flicking from side to side as he tries to snap the ghost out of it, out of the rapid gasping that dizzies him despite no need for air — he can see the illusions that surround the boy. “You’re, um, dreaming again.” “Pl— please.. I want— where’s my mama?”Everything burns. He doesn’t want to be here, he wants to be with his— Spooks gags, crumpling to the floor and hugging his legs as the illusions finally dissipate. He can feel the rope, frantically tugging at his neck — and only feeling the deep wounds in turn. He bursts into confused sobs, his breath hitching. He progressively gets more and more distressed, shaking his head as Roux frantically tries to think of ways to help. “I was— why was I so quiet back then? I don’t wanna— I hugged the person leading me to die! Why did I do that?” He cries out, shaking sobs escaping him. “Why’d I let them hurt me?” Roux sits next to him, trying to hum whatever reassuring lullabies he can remember. “Uum.. safe, now. Roux’ll protect you.” “It’s too late. I’m never going to be normal again, and I don’t— I don’t understand why I’m still here!” “… Hug?” Roux murmurs, so softly to the point that Spooks almost misses it. He stares at Roux. “You know I can’t.” He hisses, shaking his head. “I can only hug those— those— the illusions. I don’t wanna see the wrong people.” “Don’t use magic. Can just, um, pretend.” Spooks nods weakly, leaning toward Roux. Even if he can’t really hug him, he guesses this is better than nothing. Roux wraps an arm around him, and Spooks floats slightly closer. He sniffles quietly, glad that he has a real friend.

——

taglist: @loonybun

[oliversrarebooks]

Augusnippets Day 6: Plane Crash

Masterlist

tw: plane crash, injuries, kidnapping

Matt woke up slowly, and as his surroundings came into view, he wasn't sure that he wasn't still dreaming. His body felt strangely numb, almost like he was floating, and he was in a kind of rustic log cabin. As his mind and vision cleared, the reality became much stranger -- it wasn't just a rustic cabin, but almost like the inside of a tree, and he was laying on a thick bed of clover. The tree was adorned with all sorts of colorful decorations -- flowers mostly, but also scraps of cloth, strings of beads, and mobiles with tiny feathered birds.

Before he could fully comprehend all of this, a young person leaned over him. "Good, you are awake. This one worried that you would never wake up."

They were plump, with skin that glittered subtly, flowers adorning their long black hair, and a smile full of unnaturally sharp teeth. They spoke as if they were unfamiliar with Matt's language and had memorized the words and their pronunciations from a guide.

"Where am I? What happened?"

The sharp smile grew wider. "Your machine bird fell out of the sky. Do not worry. This one has fixed you."

Machine bird? "The Cessna!" he said, sitting up and regretting it. Pain racked his side, and he was forced to lay back down, gritting his teeth to keep from crying out. He was shirtless, and there was a kind of dressing on his left side made of strips of bark. His left leg was strapped into a brace made of vines and sticks.

"You should not move. Bad idea," the strange person said. "This one rescued you."

"Thank you," he said. "I need to contact my friends. They can take me back home and get me medical attention. Not that I don't appreciate what you've done."

The person's mocking laugh rang off the sides of the tree. "This is home."

"What do you mean?"

"Your machine bird fell into this one's orchard. You destroyed many mature trees. This one also has rescued you. You owe this one."

Matt's mouth felt dry. "I can pay you, if that's what you --"

"The court has already decided," they said, holding up a hand. "You will be this one's pet. You will work in this one's orchard until the trees are restored."

"The court? What court? What are you talking about?"

"Do not worry! The trees take many generations to grow, so this one has permission to extend your life, however long it takes to care for the trees."

"What are you?" asked Matt, as he shrank into the clover bed, as far away from his "rescuer" as possible.

"A friend." The pointed teeth glistened. "A very good friend."

Masterlist

@augusnippets

[ronanziriano]

Augusnippets Day 6 - Shipwreck

The presence of the ship on the horizon was nothing short of a miracle. Whumpee didn’t believe his own eyes when he first spotted it, certain that it was a hallucination.

That wouldn’t have been surprising. He had been floating out here for at least a day, he was pretty sure. His whole body was stiff from having held the same position on the piece of wooden debris that had kept him afloat for so long, and he’d long lost feeling in his hands after so tightly gripping on for dear life. The sun had been beaming down for hours, bouncing off the glassy surface of the ocean that now seemed so calm and innocent, as if it hadn’t capsized an entire bulk carrier the day before; it burned his skin and made it difficult to open his squinting eyes at all.

Whumpee was dehydrated too, he knew. He’d been doing his best to just breathe through his nose throughout this ordeal, but the occasional splash of saltwater still somehow had managed to find its way into his throat, leaving him parched and sore. And that wasn’t the only part of him that was sore - he had hid the water hard, and he knew he had snagged himself on a couple of chunks of sharp debris before managing to find one that could support him. It was hard to determine what exactly his injuries were, though; the ache was all over, and his precarious position made it impossible to give himself any sort of examination.

Sailors before him had seen things that weren’t there out at sea under much better conditions. So lying there sunbaked and hurting and exhausted, Whumpee didn’t trust his own eyes, even as the ship pulled nearer and more clearly into view.

It didn’t even fully occur to him that he was being rescued when two sets of hands grabbed him by the arms, shouting something incomprehensible either to him or to each other. He was a dead weight in the other men’s arms, to sore and tired to do anything but groan softly as he was hauled into the little rowboat, where he was laid flat onto the boat’s floor. What really woke him to the realization, though, was the sensation of water dripping between his lips - actual, fresh, salt-free water.

As he instinctively sucked up the water, he roused enough to squint his eyes open. The sun was still too bright to see much besides a silhouette of one of the men in the rowboat, but it was close and solid enough to convince him that it was real. “You found me,” he croaked out. “You saved - thank you - I - ” He was cut off by more water being pressed to his mouth, and he drank it gratefully. The men began some sort of conversation around him, and Whumpee didn’t bother trying to focus on their words. He just drank, relishing the water, enjoying the sway of the boat as it was rowed and finally lifted back into the ship it came from.

He was lifted up to his feet in order to cross onto the deck of the ship, where the men set him down onto his knees in front of a handful of crew members who had been waiting on the rowboat’s return.

“Thank you,” he said again. If he’d had enough water in him to cry with relief, he would have. “Thank you, thank - ”

This time he was cut off not with water, but with a prick of pain at his neck. His eyes opened fully in surprise, and he focused on the face of the sailor before him - long hair and beard, both scraggly and unkempt; waxy, yellowing skin; a sharp-toothed smile that was too wide to be friendly. The man got close to his face, close enough that Whumpee nearly winced away from the stench of rum and fish, and would have if the cutlass under his chin wasn't holding him frozen in place.

“Oh, don’t thank us,” the sailor - no, the pirate - said in a gravelly rumble. “It’s our pleasure to have you aboard.”

@augusnippets

[evilwriter37]

Easy Picking

Augusnippets Day 6

Plane Dragon Crash

Rated: teen

Warnings: broken bones

———

Astrid hated crashing. But, then again, who didn’t?

Crashing in the middle of battle was worse than a regular crash, in her opinion. Her heart still went into her throat though, and she still felt all that uncomfortable heat in her stomach that wanted to burst free from her chest and her throat in a scream.

And maybe she did scream. Poor Stormfly had taken multiple dragon root arrows, and she was so disoriented she could hardly fly.

Hence the crashing.

Astrid’s breath was torn from her as they spiraled and hit the trees. Branches struck at her face, even as she brought up an arm to try to protect her eyes.

Stormfly tried landing on her feet, but careened and skidded in the dirt, throwing Astrid from the saddle. She landed on her front, blood filling her mouth as she accidentally bit down on her tongue.

For a long while Astrid and Stormfly lay there, gasping for air, trying to figure out their surroundings and whether or not they were severely injured.

Astrid felt like her right wrist was broken, but that didn’t keep her from getting up with a grunt and rushing over to her dragon.

“Stormfly!” Her friend was hardly conscious, laying on her side, left wing looking like it could be fractured.

Astrid first looked to the sky before beginning her work of removing the arrows. She had to make sure no enemy had followed her down and was going to see her as easy to pick off. Down here, vulnerable with an injured dragon, she truly was.

Brushing a few tears from her eyes that she would never admit to, Astrid removed the first arrow.

[irereblogs]

Prompt is plane crash for @augusnippets

Tw: Plane crash, feeling overwhelmed, main character death, panic, if there's anything else please let me know.

Alright! You get to meet John Juniper! You should be excited! Your Handler sure is! It's kinda cute actually! John Juniper is actually talking to you! It's a little rainy outside(just the way you like it), you get good food, you should be having the time of your life!

You just.. have this bad feeling.

The lightning has been awfully close, and you're over the ocean, so if the plane goes down you're screwed. It's agency policy to worry about this stuff.

—-----------

It's been quiet for a while… right as you thought that there was a crash and the screeching of metal.

Fuck.

There's an alarm sounding, you can just barely hear your handler above the screaming. He's frantic. You're going to die. There's fire. John is not saying anything. If you had to guess, he's the one behind this. It hurts all over. There are spots dancing in your eyes. You need to breathe.

There's too much happening.

You can feel yourself slipping into unconsciousness. You know you're going to die here. In this airplane designed to kill you by any means necessary.

You tell your handler goodnight.

[whumperwithwings]

Augusnippets Day 6: Car Accident/Plane Crash/Ship Wreck

Fandom: Reverse 1999

Content: Minor Whump (Not being maliciously harmed), Lady Whump (Not being maliciously harmed), Shipwreck, Near Drowning, Being trapped in a small space quickly filling with water, Breaking through Glass, Brief fear of abandonment

(Author's Note: aPPLE came back for her at the end. Regulus didn't have any rational reason to worry, she's just scared.)

CRASH!!!

"Captain Regulus! This apple thinks that you should come here urgently!"

aPPLE was right, obviously. There was a hole as wide as a blackboard on the port side of the boat, quickly letting in an ocean's worth of water into the hull where the sharp rocks below had pierced it.

"Ugh, aPPLE, do you mind? I'm in the middle of a broadcast right... oh no. APPLE!" Regulus let out a scream, scaring aPPLE to his core. He floated over to the rear of the now-sinking ship as swiftly as he could, before coming across a horrifying sight.

The water at Regulus's feet was steadily rising in the small captain's cabin that she used for broadcasts, through the trapdoor in the floor that they so cleverly had installed. The contents of the room fell toward the left side of the room as the boat took on even more water, including Regulus.

And it just so happened that the door was on the right side.

"aPPLE!" The captain of the ship screamed as she climbed up the wall toward a window in the now tilted cabin, her dress now soaked as the water rose ever higher. "What should I do? The door is on the roof now!"

The water climbed toward the window and closer to Regulus, leading aPPLE to desperately shout out a thought that wasn't the smartest. "Break the window and swim out, Captain!

aPPLE threw himself at the window once, to no avail, before being forced to retreat by the hungry waves below. Regulus lowered her sunglasses and glanced at aPPLE, the waves below than forcing her attention toward them. A brief second of hesitation passed over her, then two, then she gripped what used to be the ceiling of the room and jumped through the glass.

------

On the list of crazy things Regulus had done in her lifetime, this would probably hit the top ten. Maybe even the top five. Assuming she survived to update that list.

The frigid water felt surprisingly pleasant against the menagerie of new cut she had acquired on her skin, leaving her to temporarily forget about important things such as breathing. Oh right, she had to breathe. However, just as she considered going up for air, a current slammed the back of her head against the same rocks it had slammed her ship into. The world turned an interesting mix of red and black as Regulus's mouth was forced open, begging for air but receiving nothing but incredibly spicy water. Desperately paddling in a direction she could only assume was up, her head hit the sunny surface, coughing and spitting seawater in any direction possible as she paddled to keep herself afloat in the currents that seemed determined to push and pull her any which way.

"Captain Regulus, this apple is quite glad that you're alright, but I would appreciate it if you could possibly not spit seawater on me? Please and thank you." aPPLE's voice was smooth and gentle, like the voice of Regulus's favorite rock singer. She tried to turn down her coughing to the best of her ability, at least as long as aPPLE was directly in front of her.

"Sorry, aPPLE... aPPLE, I can't see. I need you to guide me to... somewhere above water. Can you do that for me?" Regulus could only speak in a hoarse whisper, for the salty seawater had left her throat feeling as rough as if somebody had scraped it with an ice pick.

"Of course, Captain. I'll gently tug on your hair and lead you to a rock. Just swim where I guide you, okay?" Regulus nodded, and aPPLE softly pulled on her hair while she tried her hardest to swim after him, battling the angry current.

Regulus's hands eventually grasped a rock, and she desperately pulled herself onto it, cutting her hands further on it's rough and jagged surface.

"Ugh, could this day get any worse?" Regulus said with an exasperated huff before dramatically flopping down onto the rock she was holding onto.

"Captain, you look as though you may need medical attention. I'm going to go back to shore and get help."

Regulus curled up around herself, before turning her head in aPPLE's direction. "Okay. But... please don't leave me behind, aPPLE."

"Of course I won't. I'll be back before you know it."

@augusnippets

[just-a-silly-little-whumper]

Crash

Masterpost | Read on Ao3

Thank you to @that-one-thespian for letting me borrow Archer! This is for @augusnippets Day 6: Car Crash

Contains: Car crash, concussions, hurt/comfort

~~~

Everything was fine until it wasn’t.

Tires screeching.

Glass cracking.

Lights flashing.

Spinning and spinning and spinning.

Voices clamoring.

“Sundrop? Sundrop, can you hear me?”

Altair furiously blinked away the disorientation, locking onto Archer’s steady voice and worried face like a lifeline. Relief instantly spread across his boyfriend’s face when their eyes met. Good; he should never look so distressed.

It occurred to Altair, belatedly, that the world wasn’t still spinning. It just felt like it was. That wasn’t good.

One of Archer’s hands found his. Altair held it tight, as though otherwise they might fly apart. “Are you alright, meadowlark?”

Altair did a quick check of himself. Splitting headache, but nothing else seemed injured. “Might be concussed. What happened?”

“We got hit. You were thrown from the car. Don’t move; the paramedics were on their way.”

The steady, calm cadence of Archer’s words was as reassuring as it always was. Still Altair made a face; he didn’t want paramedics. He just wanted Elze’ith to look at him.

Archer chuckled. “I know, meadowlark. Elze’ith will be here soon as well, okay?”

“Fine.” He rubbed his thumb over the back of Archer’s hand, grounding himself on the familiar, cool metal. “You okay?”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m okay.”

Altair doubted that. But that just meant that when the paramedics came, he would have to make sure they looked at Archer with as much scrutiny as they looked at him. And it meant that when they finally returned home, he would have to wrap Archer in his wings as the reality of what had happened finally hit him.

Until then, he would have to settle for holding Archer’s hand. But that wasn’t so bad at all.

[angelic-writer]

Fear of the Deep - Sleep with the Fishes (Not Really)

Day 6 of @augusnippets

Prompts: Car accident/Plane crash/ship wreck

CW: Drowning

Fandom: Fear of the Deep by @moonlightsmasquerade

Cain was always a meticulous planner, barely budging when things don't go his way. Miriam and Dylan had to literally drag his ass out when his oxygen tank got low. He threw a hissy fit not long after. So it shouldn't be that surprising when a pop up storm rolled over the ocean while the trio was out. Miriam tried countless times to tell him to get back to the dock, but he shrugged her off. That's when a rogue wave hit the side of the boat, causing it to smash into the a nearby rock, making the ship split in two. The force of the crash caused Cain to fall over the boat edge and into the water.

He didn't remember hitting his head. All he knew was that one second, he was on the boat, the next, he was in the water. It was cold, so cold. He tried to move his limbs, but they were like lead, refusing to work. He opened his mouth to call out to someone, but the taste of salt greeted him as he inhaled water. Is this how the people that went missing were feeling when they die? Is he going to be like one of them? Miriam and Dylan will never find him, at best finding his body hours away from their location.

What a shitty way to die.

In the corner of his eye, he spotted something glittering in the water. When he took a closer look, he saw a humanoid fish creature swimming towards him along with several more of them, all smiling at him with their sharp teeth. Cain blinked. He thought those things were a myth, but here he was, seeing them with his own two eyes. As if hypnotized by their beauty, he reached out to them. He was just out of reach.

His lungs burned. His vision was growing dark.

As he closed his eyes, he heard one of them speak to him.

"Soon, Cain. Soon, you will become one of us."

---------

As he slowly became aware, he could feel something pressing on his chest pretty hard. Cain wanted to scream out, telling that person "That hurts!" but he couldn't move. He couldn't open his eyes. The pressure stopped momentarily as someone pried his mouth open, pinched his nose shut and breathed into him.

Is someone... trying to revive me?

"C'mon, Cain! Wake up, dude!"

Dylan?

Oh... He and Miriam got me after all.

After what felt like minutes of Dylan (or Miriam? Maybe both.) trying to resuscitate him, he finally responded. Water spilled out of his mouth, the two of them rolling him onto his side so he doesn't aspirate the water.

"Hey, dude. You're okay now. You're okay." Dylan said, trying to catch his breath. Cain peeled his eyes open, seeing his and Miriam's blurry figures.

"Mmm... G'mornin'..." He mumbled.

"Seriously? That's all you have to say? Jesus Christ, Cain, you nearly died! You're lucky we even got to you in time!!" Miriam shouted.

Cain sat up. "Uuuuuuugh, Miri, quit being a drama queen. I just had a little swim, that's all."

"A little swim.- Do you ever take anything seriously?! You need to stop scaring us like that! Imagine what would've happened if you were alone!"

Dylan wrapped his jacket around Cain who was soaking wet. "Yeah, I have to agree with her. You really need to listen to us."

"Dylan, I could've swam up on my own. I didn't need your guys' help." He coughed. Although what he said was true, he could've swam up on his own, but he couldn't move his body. It was like he was paralyzed. Must've been that blow to the head. He rubbed the back of his head, wincing.

"Okay, you need to rest. C'mon." Dylan lifted him up to his feet and started walking him back to their headquarters, Miriam scolding Cain the whole way. He looked back to the ocean, the image of the fish creatures smiling at him repeating in his mind.

He was far away from the dock so how did he get back there? Did they carry him here?

It was hard to concentrate with the throbbing pain.

[deviant-doughnut]

Augusnippets: Day Six

Chosen Prompt: Car Accident

CW: Injury

Orin needs something to scream to. He glances from the road momentarily. His knuckles are white, his mind elsewhere, the argument fresh in his memory. Middle of the night, headlights slicing through the damp blackness before him. He needs music, needs it loud and heavy — something to which he can freely yell. He taps at the screen, scrolls through the choices. Artists, albums, eras, songs. He nods to his selection as the drumbeat kicks in.

The car hits something solid.

Orin lurches forward. He finds the brake too late. Tyres screech, he jerks the wheel leftward. He fights against the weight of the vehicle. The car pulls free of his wrestling, careens onto two wheels, then none. The music blasts and the windows shatter, glass in his lap, in his mouth. His head smacks the roof, smacks the concrete beneath it. Metal drags sharp over gravel. His peripheral vision lights up with bright sparks. Agony bursts through his skull when it fractures. His vision turns suddenly white. The car rolls, and rolls, and rolls. The airbag deploys. His nose shatters on impact. Metal twists and cuts into his abdomen. The airbag deflates down to nothing. The steering wheel slams into his chest. It stays there, crushing. The music persists and then sputters to nothing. Orin gasps for breath and can’t find it.

The car eases, rocks to a halt upside down. Beneath the weight of itself, it creaks — the only sound stretching for miles.

Until it stops.

Crumpled metal encases him close. Blood in his mouth, in his eyes, matted in his hair and sliding upward over his chest. Fractured ribs and broken jaw, blood pouring heavy where some teeth have been lost. Middle of the night, rainfall like eerie static. Orin opens his blood-slick mouth to call out, but the taste of iron threatens to choke him, and night remains quiet around him. Middle of the night, headlights dead and engine smashed. His cellphone is nowhere in sight. A whisper of dread ghosts suddenly through him. He turns carefully, pain lancing through him in flashes. Shards of glass rattle out of his hair. He peers distantly out of the window.

Something solid crawls slowly towards him. He cannot identify the shape of its form, a creaking mass of broken bones as it stares at him now through the debris. Its eyes burn white as ruthless winter. The creature drags ever closer towards him. Through the wreckage, a fleshless limb reaches out to touch him. All the air disappears from his lungs.

Bloodless fingers scrape against his slack jaw, sparking pain and bright panic in tandem.

The creature groans at the feel of his skin, and Orin can’t even scream.

-

Thanks to @augusnippets for this event!

[whumpy-writings]

Crash Landing

Pennae Volatus Masterlist

Augusnippets 2024 Day 6: car accident/plane crash/ship wreck

CW: winged whumpee, escape, escape pod crash, broken bones, fainting

Zem held their breath as the escape pod blasted out of the ship. Their heart hammered in their ears as alarms blared and lights flashed.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck

They were shooting through the atmosphere too fast. Zem sweated as the temperature in the escape pod rose higher and higher as it tumbled through the atmosphere. Their head spun and they were on the verge of passing out when the pod slammed into the ground.

Zem did pass out then. They gasped awake to a shooting pain through their right wing. They turned their head to see the wing bent at a very, very wrong angle. Zem struggled with releasing themself from the harness.

Zem almost blacked out again when trying to get out of the pod. But they made it. They clambered out of the steaming wreckage and fell to the ground. They clenched their teeth to keep from screaming. They had escaped, but now they were trapped.

@whumpsday

[inscrutable-shadow]

Augusnippets Day 6 - Path of Whumperless Whump - Shipwreck

Rex belongs to @cyberwhumper! @sunshiline-writes Xavier and @bxtterflystxtches Vic are also tangentially mentioned. pirate au go brrrr

The crack of the wooden beam startled Thanatos, but not as much as the concussive force of the explosion as the cannonball whizzed past his head. He couldn't see through the clouds of smoke that choked the hallways of the burning ship. He needed to get to the deck. Maybe that would only make things worse and he'd be underfoot, he was no captain, but belowdeck seemed to hold only death for him, and so he forged forward.

He flinched against the bright sunlight, looking around to orient himself. The crew were scrambling everywhere, desperately trying to hold their own against another ship that had come alongside. Pirates. They were being raided. What should he do?

He didn't get a chance to think about it. Another cannonball cracked through the air and he was caught in its wake as it took part of the railing with it into the ocean. He heard someone calling his name right before he hit the water.

When he surfaced again, it was with strong arms around him, heaving him up onto a box floating nearby. Engelhart, he thought with relief. He didn't know either of his "bodyguards" very well, just that they did their jobs, which Rex certainly had, considering he was still alive. "Stay," Rex told him, in Dutch, and Thanatos stayed. The older man pushed the box along in the water, attempting to get them clear of the battle. Thanatos coughed and choked on water, occasionally slipping back into the sea and needing to be hauled out again, but he did his best to stay where he was put and not make Rex's job harder.

It was instinct that had him cling to the first rope that was thrown to him and allow himself to be pulled up onto a deck. If he'd thought about it a little harder, he wouldn't have. The only thing worse than floating on a box in the ocean was looking up into the face of a pirate captain with a sleazy-yet-handsome mustache.