#enviromental whump

[whumpbug]

whumperless whump event day 6: summer is a curse @whumperless-whump-event

heat stroke / panting / “why don't we… find some shade, quick?”

see this post for character information!

caretaker: Gene

whumpee: Cassidy

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It was the hottest day of the year, and Cassidy was starting to think that anyone trying to travel in this weather had a screw loose.

Well, maybe he had a screw loose for trying to pull a job in this weather in the first place.

He gripped the top of the door of the stagecoach he had heckled into stopping in the middle of the road. The metal burned his hand. He stepped into it, ducking down to face the man sitting in the seat, looking about ready to crap his pants.

“Ante up,” He barked. The passenger whimpered softly and reached into his shirt pocket.

Cassidy resisted the urge to swipe the sweat from his brow. A bandana was pulled up over his face to conceal his identity, and he was seconds away of saying to hell with it and yanking it off. He had no idea why Montana insisted they had to rob the stagecoach today, but who was he to argue? He just needed to get in and get out. He could cool off at the river later.

He glared down at the man and clicked his revolver, pointing it down.

“Don’t got all day,” He grumbled. The man’s hands shook as he emptied some coins into the pouch Cassidy held out. Cassidy could see a drop of sweat fall from the tip of the man’s nose.

Suddenly, a gunshot rang through the air and everyone inside the stagecoach froze.

“Silver! We gotta run, law’s comin’!” A voice called from outside. It was another of Montana’s boys, Red. 

Cassidy cursed softly under his breath as he heard distant shouts and hoofbeats. Goddamn it. He snatched away the pouch and cocked his gun.

This was just his luck. The law always managed to catch up with him at the most inconvenient times. He just hoped Delaney wasn’t with them. He wasn’t sure he had the energy to deal with that stuck-up deputy, feeling as shitty as he did.

Cassidy found his gelding, Scotch, waiting outside the stagecoach, whinnying softly. He ran at him and used the momentum to hoist himself onto the horse. Scotch anxiously hoofed at the ground. 

“Sorry boy, y’gotta run a bit more, alright? I know it ain’t fun..” Cassidy placated, clicking his teeth and tapping a heel into his mount’s side.

Scotch huffed, but was spurred into action, and soon, Cassidy was off.

Red had gotten a headstart and was already out of sight, and Cassidy thought he might make it out as well, but it seemed even Scotch was feeling the sluggishness of the heat.

The law caught up.

Gunshots rang out behind him. Warning shots. They were practically at his heels. He grunted in frustration. There was almost no chance of outrunning them this time, and he really didn’t want to be roped off the saddle.

Montana was gonna kill him.

He yanked back Scotch’s reins, causing the gelding to slow and pin his ears back in annoyance. Cassidy whispered an apology and clutched at the reins until came to a stop

The next thing he knew, he was surrounded by 3 lawmen and--

Goddamn it.

“Now Silver, tell me, why in the hell did you decide today was a good day t’pull this stunt,” Gene huffed, steering Calliope in front of Cassidy, effectively cutting him off.

“Delaney.” He mockingly tipped his hat. “Fancy seein’ you here.” Cassidy tried for a smirk, but it came out as more of a grimace.

“Enough. Get down.”

He grumbled and swung his leg to hop down from Scotch’s back. He gave the gelding a light pat, partially to comfort the animal, but also partially to steady himself. Truthfully, the quick movement caused a vicious headrush that had him seeing stars. 

He was really wishing he could shed some of his layers.

Gene was suddenly beside him, yanking his wrists behind his back, and he figured he oughta cooperate. It beat the alternative of being sent to the gallows for resisting arrest.

Soon enough, his hands were cuffed, and Scotch was being hitched to Gene’s mare. 

Gene turned to his men and told them something, but Cassidy stopped listening after a few seconds. Now, since he wasn’t moving anymore, he felt the sun beating down on him at full force. He moved to pull his bandana down to get some air, but all he could do was jerk against the cuffs uselessly.

This heat was starting to get real unbearable.

The other lawmen left, presumably to go chase Red, and Gene pulled Cassidy towards the horses.

“You can ride double with me if you behave. Act a fool, and I won’t hesitate to drag you all the way to town,” Gene grunted, heaving himself up onto Calliope. He cooed at his mare under his breath, silently apologizing for the extra weight he was about to add.

Without warning, he grabbed Cassidy under the arms and began pulling him up. Cassidy, to his credit, didn’t try to make it harder for the deputy. He simply hooked his foot into Calliope’s stirrup and settled behind Gene.

He was too goddamn burning to try and resist anything. 

He was sweating even more than before, if that was possible. When Calliope began walking forward, he found himself jolting with the movement and leaning more on Gene than he’d like to keep himself upright. 

Gene wasn’t a big talker, especially not with Cassidy, but he found himself wishing the deputy would make some kind of conversation, so he could focus on something other than the dizziness and nausea that was beginning to overtake him.

He swallowed reflexively and tried again to release the bandana around his face. 

“Quit squirming, Silver,” Gene barked, patting Calliope when she became fussy.

The truth was, Cassidy was trying not to squirm, but he couldn’t seem to find his balance. 

He practically grew up in the saddle. He started riding when he was just 11 years old, so it made no sense that every small movement the mare made seemed to send him listing to the side. His world was tilting on its axis. He felt like he was seconds away from spewing or blacking out, and he wasn’t sure which would be worse.

“D’laney,” He slurred, focusing every muscle in his body on keeping himself upright.

“What is it?” Gene grumbled, wiping some sweat from his neck with a handkerchief. Lord, this weather was miserable.

“I.. I don’t..” Cassidy swallowed again, blinking against the black spots that danced in his vision. “D’laney..”

Suddenly, Gene let out a curse as he felt Cassidy start to slip to the side. Calliope and Scotch both let out a worried huff.

Gene caught Cassidy limply by the waist, straining his arms behind him to hold the man up. He cursed again at how clammy Cassidy's skin felt, even through the layers of fabric.

“Goddamn it, Silver..” He breathed, carefully dismounting Calliope while keeping a hand on Cassidy to keep him steady on her back.

Cassidy’s eyes were half-lidded and hazy, and he was unnervingly pale. His lucidity was going, and fast. His breath was coming out in short, quick pants and sweat dripped down his jaw.

Gene made quick work of pulling him off the horse and lowering him unceremoniously to the ground. 

He squinted against the sun and scanned the area around them. “Why don’t we go find you some shade, alright? Won’t do me no good if you kick the bucket on the way to town.”

Cassidy found it odd that the deputy was being so amiable to him, but he wasn’t about to complain. Usually when he felt this run down, Montana told him to suck it up and figure it out. This was a welcome change of pace. He was too out of it to think too hard about it.

Gene half-helped-half-dragged Cassidy to a small tree off the side of the road. It did little to block the sun, but it was better than nothing. He lowered him against it and jogged back to lead the horses over as well. Scotch flicked his ears worriedly and leaned down to nose the side of his rider's head.

Cassidy was still panting hard against the heat, feeling like his entire body was pulsing with nausea and vertigo. He had heard about one of O'Malley's boys dying of heat sickness a while back, and he vaguely wondered if that was what was happening to him. He shuddered at the thought.

Gene approached once again, and before Cassidy could attempt to ask, he made quick work of yanking off the fabric around his face, before bending down to begin stripping him of his extra layers of fabric. He removed his own hat and fanned Cassidy, seeming a little more worried than he was initially leading on.

Cassidy wanted to say something, maybe make a snarky comment and the situation, but instead, his head lolled forward lazily. He could practically feel the deputy’s worried gaze boring a hole into the top of his mussed hair.

Suddenly, he felt gentle, calloused fingers grasp his wrist and press against the artery. Gene counted quietly and frowned.

His voice was now much more serious. “We need to cool you off.”

Suddenly, Cassidy was leaning back a little further against the tree with the buttons of his shirt pulled open. Gene fumbled around his bag for his waterskin, and unscrewed the top. He wet a small strip of fabric and placed it on the back of Cassidy’s neck before pressing the spout to his lips.

Cassidy drank desperately, not caring that the water dribbled down his chin. He was left breathless when the waterskin was pulled from his mouth.

“Alright, you just stay there. We’ll keep moving once you’re more.. stable. And for the love of all things holy, wear less clothes if you’re gonna pull a stunt in heat like this.”

Cassidy let his eyes flutter close, his head finally feeling a little clearer.

Gene clicked his tongue in disaproval and smoothed Cassidy's sweaty hair from his face.

"Just so you know, you're still gettin' locked up for this. I'm not that nice."

Cassidy huffed a small laugh. Yeah, it was probably deserved.

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[catnykit]

Hey if u like whump,

Lemme recomend u some stuff

-> the backrooms wiki's,I know it doesnt sound underreted but the actual wikidot Or fandom wiki is almost never actually read. Enviromental whump. Psychological whump.

-> Do not take this cat home by pixeliminal. SO MANY GORE. cat whumper included. Lonely Second person pov/YN whumpee. Its good ok.

-> Survival games in general

-> horror in general

->I will add to this list I think.

[whumpberry-cookie]

Winter whump

Cw: Enviromental/Cold Whump, dehumanisation, humiliation, afterwhump trauma (whump aftermath...? Is it how it's called?)

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Caretaker comes back home but for a longer while can't find Whumpee anywhere. Calls for them, but they don't respond. Whumpee's trying to be quiet and well-hidden so their new "Whumper" doesn't realise they are inside and kick them out to the cold.

"Please, don't make me sleep outside tonight. I promise I won't take too much space".

"Are you cold, Whumpee?" asks Caretaker, while holding a kettle, ready to prepare some hot tea. Whumpee breaks down sobbing and apologising. They won't complain on the cold anymore. They promise. They will be good.

Caretaker prepares the dinner and asks Whumpee to grab the wood from behind the hut. Whumpee comes back holding back tears in their eyes. (C:) "Oh, thanks- DEAR GODS WHUMPEE! Don't tell me you went barefoot" (W:) "I-d- I didn't know If I was allowed-" (C:) "It's -15°C outside!! You obviously HAVE TO wear schoes!!!"

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[auroragehenna]

AI-less Whumptober

Day 16 - Whumperless Wednesday (Drowning, hostile environment, “I don’t know how anybody could survive that.”)

(OC) Tierney

TW/CW: DnD, whump, brief wing-whump, minor character deaths, murder, rage, enviromental whump, fantasy whump, self sacrifical/careless whumpee, angry whumpee, multiple "whumpers", multiple whumpees, medieval setting, Word count: 1'204

Not every forest in their world was a peaceful place to be. Not even for a druid.

A careful step on the grass covered path. Carefully calculated, always. With the stick she picked up Tierney prodded the front in front of her, a säule(?) of toxic gas erupted out of the flat grass, only barely missing her. They could still feel the acid bite of it on their skin from where she stood. With not even so much as a sigh they continued to follow the makeshift path through the dead grass until a group of tight-sitting holly-bushes. From there on she finally saw what she had been looking for.

A group of forest-folk, probably the closest thing to natives from here, sitting around a fire on tree trunks. And at their feet…

Tierney saw red for a moment as she made out the bound figures at the folk's feet. They looked, in pain, injured and scared. They had been tracking this particular group for a long time now but never was it possible to inercept them. Well now that fight would need to happen here. She scanned the area, it was surrounded by tight standing trees with long, cross-growing arms or open gras squares-which were even more treacherous. So either through the trees-too risky if I get stuck, I'm fucked. Or through the grass patches-very open but doable. painful. Or straight through the holly bushes-she didn't see any blood hunters. Or from above of course..But her wings were currently safely strapped away due to the forest's treacherous nature. Their black tail; testimony of their hellish side twitched nervously. She couldn't wait any longer, she had to do something! And so Tierney hushed to the nearest shadowed grass patch, drawing her bow. With silent precision the first arrow hit the on-guard into the eye, he was instantly dead. Seconds after Tierney stepped to the side and shot another, the closest to her into the throat. Now she bolted forward, setting off toxic gas geysirs into her face every few step, but she didn't care.

The folk were now in a tumult, screaming and pointing at the approaching attacker, preparing to fight.

They aimed their wooden pole they were carrying and shot it forward into the first attackers abdomen. When they doubled over they in the blink of an eye replaced the bow in their hands with daggers, slashing forward towards the woman. They needed to get to the fire! When they heard the all to familiar sound of metal gliding through air she let herself fall to the ground and roll away. Tierney's leather armor, barely protected her from the toxins and the razor-like blades of grass but it was irrelevant.

The sword hit only centimeters next to where she had just stood and was definitely meant to incapacitate, not kill. It made her even more mad. Did they mean to take her prisoner too? Well it wouldn't happen. The image of bloody white feathers flashed in front of her inner eye. Never again.

Two folk came at her, one swinging a whip and another wielding an axe. The one with the axe for one definitely screamed bloody murder. Their feet seemed to always find the safe grass patches and even if not, it didn't seem to hurt them as much as foreigners.

They took a deep breath, hostile or not this forest was still nature. And she was still one with nature. The morphed-wildshaped wolf ears on her head twitched as Tierney connected to the forest and then pulled, effectively shiting the terrain and creating hills and holes on the clearing, shifting the advantage of a known battefield to her. The axe wielder in front of them had lost balance and was struggling to keep standing. Without wasting another second and a stone-like facial expression the child between an Avariel and a Tiefling shot forward and slit his throat. But the whip wielder was still alive and re-gained his footing. Deciding that it for now was smarter to run Tierney bolted towards the campfire. At this point purely driven by adrenaline and a promise, as her skin screamed from acid and her clothing and skin was torn from grass and tree twigs. As quickly as they could they cut free the prisoners. When they came to the last one though a harsh and blinding pain exploded in their back, on their wings. Pain like...A whip. Tierney shot around and was eye-to-eye with the last remaining folk. And its whip that had previously burned across their back.

The folk had no words left for the murderer that had infiltrated their camp and killed their colleagues, their whip heavy in their hand. The two seemed wait for the other one to move first, them with whip in hand and her with bow raised. In their rage they didn't see anything but the creature ahead of them. And so they couldn't see one of their previous prisoners run into their side full force. And before their footing could be regained an arrow had already pierced their heart.

Tierney stepped forward and pulled the arrow out of the dead folk's body. There was no remorse on her face only stone. But when she turned to face the freed creature her expression finally softened. With an outstretched hand she helped the other get up again and checked for threatening injuries. That process was repeated with the others too. None of them seemed fataly injured tho, only hurt and deep in shock. Knowing that any words of affirmation would be pointless while still in the forest she collected all her arrows and lead the group safely out of the forest. When they had finally, after a long and silent hike reached the outskirts of a village again Tierney turned around. She inspected the terrified and sometimes crying faces in front of her and a deep sorrow marked her features. Sorrow at their suffering, at all suffering and the ones she couldn't save. Blood white feathers, again. "You're safe now, I'm sorry for what you went through and what you additionally had to see but it was the only way to safely get you out of their hands. They can't hurt you anymore, you're free to go, you should be safe in this village.", she explained as kindly as she was capable of.

The party scattered pretty quickly only one boy remained, slightly younger than Tierney going by pure appearance. He looked like he wanted to say something. His gaze wandering over the open cut from the whip, exposing her wings to the dozens of tiny cuts on her legs and arms, to the nasty burns everywhere on her body and face. "Thank you for saving us. But how-How are you even still alive? With everything you just-I don’t know how anybody could survive that."

They looked at the boy, shaking on his legs. "I've had worse." , "I'm used to pain." Both answers they could give, both truthful. But instead they simply said: "I wasn't gonna leave you guys there to suffer." And with that they dissapeared into the shadows of the villagek, searching for the nearest fountain to clean their weapons and wounds and a place to rest.

Taglist: @ailesswhumptober, @yourlocalgaefae33, @princessofhe11, @greatkittencloud, @bisexuawolfsalt

@shattermind-8

[cricket-reader]

Your Warmth

Masterlist | A03 | Wattpad | Recommendations | Inbox

Summary: stuck in a snowstorm, she doubts she’ll make it out alive. What happens when an unexpected person rescues her from the storm?

Warnings (contains spoilers!): language, probably inaccurate descriptions and procedures, stuck in a blizzard, falling in a lake, near death, nakedness, implied sexual stuff (no sex), pining, idiots in love, cuddling, awkward fluffy moments, Bucky

Word Count: 2,426

Prompt: Environmental, snowstorm, come in from the cold

A/N: day 1 of March Trope-A-Thon by @amonthofwhump

The wind blew the snow with such force it made her blind. The only thing in sight was the white blizzard. It hadn’t picked up until just a minute ago. Of course, it would be her luck to get stuck in this crap.

She could slowly feel the numbing sensation begin to freeze her feet as the snow began to creep into her heavy duty boots. The mission suit she wore did absolutely nothing to keep out the cold. At least her jacket went down mid thigh.

Huffing in irritation as her hood gets blown down once again, she’s tempted to just give up. What’s the point anyway? It’s not like she’s going to be able to find her way to the safe house where her partner is sitting, probably all nice and cozy in the warm little cabin. She’s going to die out here alone and cold.

The frigid weather makes her body shut down. No average human could survive in this weather for how long she has.

Finding a small cave, she stumbles her way to the entrance. She doesn’t have it in her to worry what creatures she might find in it.

The relief is only minuscule. At least the wind isn’t blowing her this way and that. At least she isn’t being pelted by the snow coming down and drifting everywhere.

She’s barely able to register the beeping coming from her pocket. Whining, she hesitantly reaches to grab her communication device. Her fingers feel frozen and numb. She hardly is able to muster up the strength to press the button to answer.

“Where are you? What are you doing?” A gruff-sounding voice greets her, the voice echoing in the chilled cave.

“H-hello to you too Ba-Barnes,” she mumbles, curling up on herself to try and trap the heat.

“Not the time, doll. I can’t fucking find you in this stupid snowstorm.”

“Why-why aren’t you.. at th-the cabin.” She furrows her brows, her mind fogging over

“I can’t just leave my best girl to die out here, can I?” Her heart skips a beat. She loves it when he calls her his girl. It doesn’t mean anything to him, but she can’t stop the butterflies in her stomach whenever he says it. “Besides, Steve would kill me if I let anything happen to you.”

“Wow,” she huffs, “For a se-second there I tho-thought you actually c-cared.”

He forces out a chuckle, hating how he can hear her shivering. He needs to find her. If he can just keep her talking. He can’t lose her too. He’s lost enough. “Where are you?”

“I’ont know, a-a cave?”

“Fuck,” he mutters, almost tripping in the deep snow. “I’m never gonna find ya like that, babydoll.”

“I’on’t wanna move,” she whimpers. Bucky curses under his breath. He’s never going to find her like this. He hears shuffling on the other side and another set of whimpers. It makes his heart break. He won’t stop until he finds her. He’s close, if the signal from her tracker is still accurate.

“I’m gonna find you, doll, just hang in there,” he mutters, needing to somehow keep her talking. A harsh howling on the other end alerts him to the fact that she must be out of the cave.

“You still have those flares on you, doll?”

“I d-d-don’t th-think I’ll be able to-to light it,” she shivers so violently that he’s sure if it weren’t for his enhanced senses he would have no idea what she’s saying.

Bucky curses under his breath and looks around him. Her dot is so close. She should be somewhere nearby. Stopping, he notices a lake nearby. If he wasn’t paying attention, he would’ve probably walked right on it since the snow is covering it. God, then what good would he be?

A crack was heard through the speaker and his heart stopped. “Doll? What was that?”

He could hear her hyperventilating, still shaking as the wind harshly nips at her poor body. “Bucky…”

“What is it? What happened? Are you okay? Talk to me,” he orders, brain going into hyperdrive.

“I-I think I’m on ice ri-right n-now,” she shudders out, not moving an inch.

“Shit,” he mumbles. At least now he knows she’s close. “I’m gonna find ya, don’t move a muscle.”

He hears another one of those heartbreaking whimpers and wishes he could just find her and carry her to safety right this second.

The amount of relief he feels when he manages to see a speck of black in the blinding white blizzard is immense. That relief is quickly swept away when he hears another crack.

It all happens too fast.

The loud crack, the scream, the sound of her body plunging into the freezing water.

A churning is felt in his gut as he watches the woman he loves fall into the water. He should have told her to stay in that cave. He would have searched for hours if it meant that she was not drowning in water.

She’s never been this cold in her life. Her body seizes as she sinks. In a desperate last attempt she swims upwards. It doesn’t take long for her to feel heavy. Her body shutting down as she tries her best to keep her head above the water. It would be so nice to be in her bed, wrapped in her many blankets. Safe and warm. Her eyes drift shut as her hand catches on the ice.

Her mind doesn’t even catch up when a strange, soft material touches her hand. She barely realises that her body is being hauled out of the water. A string of muffled curses sound so far away as her eyes flutter open and close.

Warmth.

Nuzzling into the warmth, she vaguely recognises a wonderful smell. Something like the forest she used to play in as a child mixed with something purely masculine.

Bucky watches her smile as she nuzzles her face into his chest. His steps are even and quick, wanting—no, needing to get to the cabin as soon as possible.

A particularly harsh wind blows against her body and she can’t hold in the small cry as it feels like she is being frozen like a popsicle.

The cry urges Bucky to pick up his pace. He can’t let her die. He can’t lose her. She means too much to him. Who else will ramble to him when he can’t sleep? Who else is going to stay up with him all night to make cookies because he had a bad nightmare? Who else is he going to watch movies with? Who else will unconsciously cuddle into him during movie nights? Who else is going to warm his heart with every little move she makes?

There’s no one that can replace her. He is sure of it. She matters too much to him and everyone else on the team.

The cabin comes into view, and at this point he’s sprinting to get into the warmth. Luckily, it should be somewhat warm. The heating is nothing to brag about, but at least it is insulated. There’s also a fireplace, and he made sure that there was plenty of firewood.

“We’re almost there, sweets, just hang in there,” he mutters, holding her closer to his body. If she doesn’t make it… he doesn’t know what he’ll do. If only it had been him that got stuck out in the cold. Then she’d be safe at home in the warm. Then she wouldn’t be clinging onto life.

The door jolts her out of her dazed state. She suddenly feels more cold even though she is in the building. The slight warmth the cabin provides her isn’t enough.

He sets her down in the living room and tells her to strip. She mumbles incoherently as he moves to get some blankets. He sets them on the couch before moving over to start a fire in the fireplace. His hands are trembling as he lights the match. Fear and adrenaline both running high.

When the logs finally catch, he turns back to see that she has barely moved. Sighing, he rushes over to help her. “Doll? C’mon, stay with me,” he mutters, standing her upright.

She whines, just wanting to go to sleep. The warmth is starting to set in, but it still isn’t enough. Maybe if she sleeps this nightmare will be over.

“I’m gonna have to take off your clothes…” he grimaces at the blank look he receives. Swiftly undressing her, he wishes that she was cognisant enough to do it herself. He hates that he has to do this especially without her consent. He knows she’d never want him to see her like this. He knows that if she were in her right mind, she’d probably punch him for even looking at her. If there’s one thing he knows, it’s that she hates being exposed to others. Trust issues and all that. But at this point all that doesn’t matter. All that matters is getting her warm.

“I-I always knew you wa-wanted t-to get into my pants,” she jokes as he pulls down her tack pants, her voice quiet and whispery. He blushes deep red, continuing to undress her.

“You wish,” he mutters back, but it’s strangled and he definitely knows that, were she in her right mind, she would notice how he took too long to answer.

She chuckles a little, her eyes drooping closed. The smile she gives him makes him weak in the knees. When all of her clothes are removed, he carries her over to the fireplace, grabbing the blankets on the way. She leans into his chest, cuddling into him as far as possible.

When he goes to move away she whines and pulls him back. “Don’t go.”

It sounds so faint, he’s not even sure he heard it. Nevertheless, he stays. Whether it’s because he is selfish and loves having her close or because he wants to provide more warmth, he’s not so sure. Maybe it’s both. It’s probably both.

He curses under his breath when his hand touches her skin. It’s almost like she is frozen. Even after doing all this she’s still not warm. He rubs his hand over her arms, wishing he had his other arm to warm her too. Stupid vibranium appendage doesn’t provide the heat that human flesh does.

“Y’know… I heard that uh…” she mumbles, cutting her sentence off with a shudder, shaking her head. She mutters something that sounds like nonsense as her head rolls away from him.

“What is it, doll?”

“I’on’t… I don’ wanna make you uncomfy,” she slurs out, exhaustion dripping from her tone of voice.

“Baby, please, I’ll do anything, just stay awake, yeah? Can you do that for me? I know you can. You’re so strong, such a good girl for me,” he rambles, shaking her body to keep her awake.

A different kind of warmth blooms in her stomach and she hides her head into his chest so Bucky can’t see her face. She’s sure that she’s as red as a tomato. That’s one way to sort of heat up her body, she supposes.

The words she speaks are muffled against his Henley and not even his enhanced hearing can catch it. “What was that?”

She groans, not wanting to repeat it.

“C’mon, doll. It can’t be that bad,” he smiles reassuringly at her. She shakes her head and curls up in a ball, dying from embarrassment even though she hasn’t told him anything yet.

“Take your clothes off,” she mumbles, not realising that what she just said was a bit forward. Bucky’s eyes widen and he splutters, practically choking on his own saliva.

“Uh.. I don’t think right now is the best time to be—”

“Not like that you creep!” She exclaims, lightly hitting him because it’s all the strength she has left. “It’ll help warm. Skin on skin, y’know?”

“Oh, right, of course,” he stutters, face heating in embarrassment. He knew that. Of course he did. He had plenty of training on what to do during a situation like this. But god, the way those words came tumbling from her pretty lips. He’d give anything for this situation to be different. For her to be…

Stop it. Not now. She needs warmth. Not a pervert to creep on her with a hard on whilst she’s practically dying in his arms. Fuck. This is bad.

If she notices, he doesn’t say anything. His eyes have been respectfully focused on anything other than her body, but just knowing that his crush is naked, lying against him gets his blood running south. It’s not his fault that he has had no action in like seventy years.

God, that makes him sound so lame.

He lets go of her to pull off his Henley. His pants follow, but he keeps on his boxers for modesty. She doesn’t need to see his embarrassingly hard… Nevermind. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it and it will go away.

Boy was he wrong.

When he sits back down, she crawls into his lap with not a moment’s hesitation, the blanket still draped over her. The second the blanket is removed from in between them, he swears he can hear the sirens sing. Although cold, her flesh against him feels so good. It’s a kind of contact that he hasn’t had in lord only knows how long. And now he never wants it to end.

Bucky smiles when he hears her contempt hum of approval. She nuzzles her head into his chest and cuddles impossibly closer to him. This, he muses, is a moment he wants to stay in forever. Nothing but them both cuddled against each other in the most intimate but also non-intimate way possible.

“Thanks, Buck,” she whispers after a few minutes of solid silence, the only sound is the crackling of the fire.

“No problem, babydoll.” He runs his hand up and down her bare back, wanting to comfort her and also warm her up. He watches her as her eyes start to flutter shut. She’s trying so hard to stay awake, but the exhaustion is pulling her down like an anchor to a ship.

“You didn’t hit your head did you?” Bucky questions, not wanting her to fall asleep with a concussion.

“No,” she mumbles, “jus’ wanna sleep.”

“Okay… I’ll be here when you wake up,” he promises, leaving a chaste kiss on her forehead. She smiles and sighs contentedly as she drifts off to sleep.

“You better be.”

[librathefangirl]

When the Past Comes Crashing

ao3 (Chapter 1/7; 2k+)

A seemingly easy mission quickly goes awry for the Seven Deadly Sins, forcing them to make some critical decisions that sets off an unexpected set of events. At the same time, a long-buried secret comes back to haunt Meliodas with a 3,000-year-old call for revenge. Written for @amonthofwhump's March Trope-A-Thon!

Okay, so a little run-down about this AU/timeline: This goes off-canon back in the First Holy War and Meliodas’ betrayal against the demons. The details of how exactly, you’ll find out through the story (as it’s a vital part of the plot).

As for the present-time timeline, it’s canon-divergent in the way that Meliodas actually killed Fraudrin back in Danafor. This means Dreyfus was never possessed, Zaratras was never killed, and the Sins were never framed. Elizabeth’s relationship with Meliodas is of course also affected by this as she never had to search for the Sins with him. Instead, she grew up with him as the captain fo the Seven Deadly Sins and a holy knight of Liones. As for the Sins’ current dynamic, it’s mostly like how it was in Prisoners of the Sky, except only Merlin and Gowther (who has regained his memories) know about Meliodas being a demon.

Chapter Prompts: Day 1 – Environmental; Rockslide/Building Collapse.

Read on ao3 or under the cut!

“You’re worried about me?” Meliodas teased when Drole lingered behind. Gloxinia and Elizabeth had already flown ahead. Gloxinia had held onto Elizabeth’s hand, as if he was afraid that she would circle back given the chance. Maybe she would have. They had all been even less excited about the plan than usual. Elizabeth had been downright against it.

Drole sighed deeply, “I’m worried you’re not taking this seriously.”

“Come on, when am I not serious?” Meliodas questioned, flying up to the giant’s eye-level. Drole just gave him a look, causing Meliodas to roll his eyes. “I’ve got this.”

“If it were up to Elizabeth, you wouldn’t be doing this at all.”

“Well, Ellie’s a worrier,” Meliodas smiled. He then sighed when he only got the same apprehensive look. “The plan hasn’t changed.”

“Maybe it should,” Drole suggested. Meliodas crossed his arms over his chest, avoiding his gaze.

“We’ve been over this. I’m not abandoning him.”

“I know,” Drole acknowledged. “And we’re not asking you to.”

“Then you’re just going to have to trust me!”

“We do,” Drole promised. Meliodas felt his defensiveness falter. His hands dropped to his sides. “But that doesn’t mean we don’t worry about you.”

A small smile passed over Meliodas’ face, “We’re all taking risks here.”

“Not all of us are betraying the Demon King right under his nose,” Drole pointed out. Meliodas hummed at that.

“That’s true,” he admitted. “But we don’t have a lot of options here. Unless you honestly think we can count on Ludociel to end this war peacefully.”

Drole sighed again, “Just be careful.”

“I will,” Meliodas promised. He hesitated as he was about to fly away, glancing over his shoulder towards the spot the others had disappeared. “Look after Elizabeth for me.”

Drole nodded his head, “We’ll see you soon.”

– 3,000 years later –

“So, what exactly is this mission again?” Ban asked, glancing up at the towering building with an almost bored expression.

The massive house was like something from a horror story. It somehow looked simultaneously both sturdy and ready to collapse at any moment. Meliodas eyed the mountain behind it critically. He didn’t like the way it was more or less hanging out over the building. If something were to happen to the mountain, the building would be buried instantly.

“Ghost hunting,” Meliodas then exclaimed, throwing Ban a bright grin. Ban just rose his eyebrows at him as King groaned beside them.

“Captain,” King protested. Merlin shook her head.

“Nobody said anything about ghosts.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Meliodas muttered, waving his hand at her as they came to a stop before the house. “But that’s what they were all implying. Spooky hauntings.”

“The village down the hill has been subjected to a series of… mysterious incidents,” Merlin explained. “Nobody could give a proper explanation on what exactly happened, but it has the whole village crying ghosts and monsters. They’re all blaming this house, apparently. Even the knights are scared to go near it.”

“Wimps,” Ban snorted. “So, they sent us instead.”

“Yup!” Meliodas nodded his head, still grinning. “So, now we have to go in and make sure there are no vengeful ghosts haunting the village.”

Meliodas tilted his head, regarding the house. There was something about it that seemed off. Okay, there was a lot about this that seemed off. But there was something particular about the house he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Something that, despite his jokes, made him want to send the others away. Unfortunately, he knew they wouldn’t accept that without a proper reason. One he didn’t have yet. Because ‘a bad feeling’ definitely wouldn’t work.

“And Diane and the others stayed back because…?” King asked. Meliodas noticed but didn’t point out his choice of wording. It wasn’t like King was subtle about his crush on Diane, and right now, Meliodas was happy for the distraction. Something to shake the unease feeling. Meliodas shrugged his shoulders casually as he explained.

“To guard the village against whatever we anger of course!” King rolled his eyes, and Meliodas gestured towards the mountain. “And that looks about ready to collapse. If there is a rockslide, Diane and Escanor will be able to protect the village, and Gowther can help with an eventual evacuation.”

“Well, at least you’ve thought this one through, Captain.”

“So, we gonna go in?” Ban questioned, sending a teasing grin in King’s direction. “Or you wanna admit that you’re scared~?”

“I am not-”

“Okay!” Meliodas cut off, before an argument could break out. “Let’s go. The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can get a drink instead!”

– X –

“Found any vengeful ghosts?” Meliodas asked as Merlin stepped up beside him. They’d all split up once inside the house to cover all the rooms faster. Merlin sighed, shaking her head at him again.

“You’re enjoying this too much.” Meliodas glanced at her, tilting his head at her tone.

“You’re saying you believe the villagers?”

“There are no ghosts here,” Merlin muttered, glaring at him for even making her say it aloud. “Those people don’t know what they’re talking about, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t something here. There’s magical residue all over the place.”

“Yeah,” Meliodas agreed, his smile dropping. “I felt that too. Haven’t seen anything that can cause any ghost-blamed incidents though.”

“No. I haven’t either,” Merlin said as Meliodas rubbed at a spot on the floorboards with his foot. He glanced at her again. Her arms were crossed over her chest, her shoulder raised; she looked as tense as she sounded.

“But you found something?” Meliodas guessed, frowning at the pattern underneath the dust. It looked familiar… Merlin hesitated for a moment before she shook her head.

“One of the rooms was completely destroyed,” Merlin explained. “What I felt there was… familiar in a way it shouldn’t be.”

Meliodas looked up from the floor, “What do you mean?”

“It felt like miasma.”

“No,” Meliodas muttered. He crossed his own arms, shifting from foot to foot. “It can’t be. Miasma doesn’t occur naturally in this realm.”

“Which explains the rotten wood in the room,” Merlin pointed out. “I know it doesn’t make sense, but it’s the only explanation I have. That room has been exposed to pure miasma.”

“That isn’t possible,” Meliodas protested again, unconsciously grabbing hold of the dragon handle. “The demons have been sealed off from this realm for millennia. You know that.”

“I do,” Merlin acknowledged. “But you know there have been demons who have slipped out before. The Fairy King’s Forest, Danafor-”

“That was different! Fraudrin is dead, and there is no way a red demon could set a trap like this.”

Merlin raised an eyebrow at him, “You think this is a trap?”

“You don’t?” Meliodas questioned. “I wasn’t sure at first, but, something about this place always felt wrong. In a way, it didn’t feel wrong.”

“Like miasma.”

“Exactly. And, I mean, just look around! There’s nothing in this house. Yet the villagers are being plagued by something unseen and unknown? And no other knights will even step foot in this place. Meaning we had to come here. Then there’s the miasma, apparently, and…” Meliodas glanced down at the floor again, but before he could continue, the entire building shook violently. A loud, startling crack sounded from outside.

Meliodas and Merlin shared a knowing look, as Meliodas let out a muttered curse.

“The mountain,” Merlin agreed. Meliodas gaze flickered to the floor again before meeting her gaze.

“Whatever’s going on, we can figure it out later. We need to get the others and get out before that mountain buries us.”

– X –

As they all made it to the door, Meliodas had the feeling this natural disaster happening outside wasn’t so natural after all. Just like these ghost incidents wasn’t so ghost related. Someone had wanted them specifically to come here – had wanted him to come here. That much was clear. He didn’t know who or what or even why, but there was at least one demon involved. A fact that only made this whole situation worse.

Meliodas lingered behind as the other exited the house. Given King’s shout as he looked behind the house, they didn’t have much time.

“Merlin.” Meliodas stopped her before she could join King and Ban. She turned to him with a troubled frown. Her voice was tense as she spoke.

“We need to leave.”

“I know,” Meliodas said, but then shook his head. He rubbed his foot on the floor again, pushing away the layers of dust until she could see the carved pattern. The same pattern that had been in the other room – possibly every room. Logically, he knew it ran through the entire house. Merlin let out a loud curse as she recognized it.

“Yeah,” Meliodas agreed, his mouth twisting into a humorless smile. He reached out one hand towards the door and let his fingers push against the invisible force field there – design to keep demons and demons only from crossing. “This was definitely a trap.”

“But who-”

“There’s no time,” Meliodas cut her off. The ground was shaking with worsening tremors. “You have to get the others away from here. Keep the village safe.”

“Meliodas…” Merlin’s voice trailed off as he reached out his sword towards her. The dragon handle trembled in his hands. Ever since Danafor he had never let it out of his sight. Not even once. Until now. Merlin swallowed.

“What if…” she was stalling. They both knew it. She was no more eager to take the sword than he was to give it to her. They both realized what that meant. Only one of them was leaving this house today. Her gaze flickered back to the floor, but Meliodas shook his head. Ban and King shouted at them frantically from outside. They were out of time. Soon those two would just settle for dragging them out by force if necessary. It wouldn’t work of course, and Meliodas had no plan to have them here when their time really did run out. Big rocks were already crashing down around the house.

“You know as well as I do that not even you can undo or overpower that barrier. Not before it is already too late. I can’t leave. So, I need you to take this. You’re the only one I trust with it. Take it and get the others away.” His words were a strange mix of ordering and pleading. Tears shone in his eyes. “You know I will be fine. Take it and get them to safety.”

Reluctantly, Merlin took the sword from Meliodas’ hand. The sound of the crashing rocks almost deafening now. Before she left, she looked him straight in the eyes, “Don’t die.”

Meliodas gave her a shaky smile. Then she snapped her fingers, teleporting Ban, King, and herself down into the village. Away from harm, and away from Meliodas.

Meliodas exhaled slowly. The others were safe. The key was safe. That was all that mattered. He closed his eyes, calling every inch of his magic to him. He extended his wings behind him. Anything that could help as the mountain collapsed over him.

It wasn’t enough.

– 3,000 years ago –

Elizabeth was fluttering. Gloxinia didn’t have a better way to describe it. She was pacing back and forth, her feet barely even touching the ground. She wrung her hands together anxiously as she muttered to herself. Gloxinia would have said she looked like a wreck, but she looked like she had for the past few days.

“You’re back!” she cried out as soon as she saw them. Then she threw a glance over her shoulder, her expression darkening instantly. It seemed like her day with Ludociel had been less than pleasant. Not that Gloxinia was surprised. For all his power, the archangel was very far down on the list of people Gloxinia would willingly spend his free time with.

“What-” Elizabeth cut off herself, giving them a tight smile. Gloxinia nodded his head. This was not a conversation to have around nosy assholes. He shared a glance with Drole. If he was honest, he didn’t want to have this conversation at all. Gloxinia wanted to just erase these past hours and go back to living in blissful unawareness.

Once they’d made it far away to be unheard and undisturbed, Elizabeth spun around.

“So? What happened?” she immediately asked. “Oh, I wished I could have come with you!”

She faltered when she met their gazes. Oh, God. Gloxinia didn’t want to do this. Not when she was looking at them like that. He could see the worry in her eyes go from fearing the what ifs to something a lot more concrete; a realization that something actually had gone wrong. Gloxinia really wished he could prove her wrong.

“What is it?” she asked, her voice a mere whisper. Drole glanced off to the side, but when he spoke, he met her gaze. His steady calm barely hiding his own worry.

“He wasn’t there.”

Gloxinia could see the exact moment that Elizabeth processed the words. Her world shattering.

“… what?”

“It doesn’t have to mean something’s wrong!” Gloxinia hurriedly added. The words sounded false even to his own ears. Elizabeth shook her head, a few tears falling from her eyes as she pressed a hand to her mouth.

“No, it- he wouldn’t- Mel would have let us know!” Elizabeth stammered. She was right. Of course she was right. If Gloxinia had actually believed his own words, the worry wouldn’t have felt like a rock in his stomach.

“Okay, yeah, something is wrong,” he admitted shakily. “But it doesn’t have to mean the worst-case scenario.”

It was the same floundering attempts at comfort he’d been giving himself for hours by now.

“Which is?” Elizabeth asked. They all knew it – but she seemed to need to hear it.

“Worst-case,” Gloxinia said, reluctantly letting the idea form in his mind. “The Demon King knows.”

Elizabeth nodded her head, more tears rolling down her cheeks as she suppressed a sob.

“But it doesn’t have to be worst case,” Gloxinia tried again.

“He’s right,” Drole spoke up. “For all we know, this is to keep his cover. A precaution to not be discovered.”

“That’s still not a good thing, is it?” Elizabeth said shakily. Neither Gloxinia nor Drole answered her. They didn’t need to. All three already knew the answer. No matter the reason, Meliodas not showing up as planned meant that something had gone wrong. Just like they had all feared ever since they started this whole thing.

– 3,000 years later –

When Meliodas came to, it was painfully, slowly, and briefly. It wasn’t to the darkness underneath half a mountain. It was to a ray of the setting sun in his face. It was to a shadow towering above him. It was to the realization that something was horrible wrong before the darkness took over again.

To Be Continued…

[whumpitisthen]

I keep seeing the term whump and I don't know what it means 😭 is it like an OC? Thank you for explaining if you do :)

whump is a genre (or trope if youre not in the community i guess but i would say its more than an enemies to lovers kinda deal) where fictional people get hurt in fictional situations. its kind of like hurt/comfort except the hurt is much more prominent and the comfort might not be a part of it at all. though it can be, it is not a kink, a fetish, or anything sexual at all for most people (lots of people think it's a bdsm thing bc of all the torture and such, when most of the community is in fact asexual). it also tends to be more physical than emotional pain, though in general any pain from any source inflicted on your oc is considered whump, even enviromental stuff such as a storm or car accident. whumpee is the character getting hurt, whumper is the one hurting them, caretaker is the one taking care of whumpee. it is all i write! finally, just because im a shameless sadist does not mean everyone is, the community is full of wholesome individuals who in reality would be physically incapable of hurting a fly as it has become utterly clear from all the choose your own adventure whump poll series where no whump ever happens because no one actually chooses any of the painful options take a look around in the main tag for more information but be sure to pay attention to content warnings and tags; theres some fucked up stuff you might not wanna see, which people are aware of, and so they tag accordingly

tldr.: the "put that guy in a situation. watch him struggle." genre of fiction. watch out for cws. have fun :3

[goronska]

March Trope-A-Thon (Day 1) - Blue Rose

[Masterlist] - there are also the OCs described in much detail

Trope: Rain/Snowstorm OCs: Shiroi, Adam (Vermillion canon) CW: slavery, enviromental whump, restraints, freezing, (partial) non-con nudity (chest)

Blue Rose

"How could you have forgotten that lady Dira hates lilies?!" she dragged him out by the color as soon as the guests moved from the dining room to the ballroom. "I've told you tens of times, you useless bum! Why have I ever given you the task of decorating the room?!"

He wanted to answer that she always tells him to do that, because of delicate hands and ability to manipulate the smallest and most delicate things precisely, but he knew the questions were rhethorical. He was able to guess so due to the bitegag in his mouth. She was just shouting to let him know the punishment is coming. The louder Lady Shiroi was, the worst day was ahead of him. And she was very loud.

Soon they were past the the corridor, right through the front door and her statue-like leg kicked him outside. He was immidiately met with a chilly evening, light of the day being slowly drowned out and muted with dark clouds pouring rain and some miniscule hail. She's not kicking him out of the house, right? That would be such a blessing!

Shiroi already have a different task for Adam in mind. Until he fell asleep each day, she always had some. For him and her other slaves. "You'll be welcoming the guests!" she said with an ugly smile. He nodded in response. "Great, give me you tie!" He quickly untied the black piece of garment and handed it to her, feeling as his butler tuxedo she made him wear today is slowly getting drenched in cold precipitation. It might have been cold sweat, too.

There was a large, brass door knocker on the floor door. She absolutely treated it as a hook, swiftly tying both his hands and his collar to it. At first he thought she might even be joking, she was first to beat him, kick him, but not tying him to a spot. But as he was standing there, his black wavy hair fashioned by the cold water flowing down his face, his arms uncomfortably crossed behind his head, she ripped his white shirt open. He looked with longing eyes as a shiny button disappears within the grass in the garden, rolling away. Then Shiroi took out her blue lipstick from her pocket and in large letter wrote across his chest 'WELCOME'.

"There, NOW we're talking! Marvellous decoration, Adam, just devine! NOW MOVE!" she pushed by him and closed the door with a bang, making him lose his balance and scrawling to straighten up for a while.

Adam didn't remember any guests missing from the invitation list. Adam also didn't remember that one of the ladies hated white lillies, but they looked so nice in arragments with his Mistress signature blue roses. He thought she will appreciate. She didn't. And now, with all the guests already dancing and drinking inside, in warmth, there was little chance anybody, including the other slaves, who were busy serving drinks, would find him soon.

If someone was there to look, they would notice that before Adam lost conciousness deep into the night, it wasn't just the 'WELCOME' written across his chest, and now smeared with rainwater, that was blue. It was his lips.

[whump-blog]

Prompt 35

Whumpee, hunted by Whumper (his Master, enemy), sneaks into Caretaker's house and hides there.

When Caretaker discovers that someone (Whumpee) has been hiding in his house, angrily throws him out.

Whumpee pleads with Caretaker to let him stay just for one night, but Caretaker refuses.

Later that night a huge storm breaks out and Caretaker's conscience is weighing on him, wondering if Whumpee is okay. Guiltily, Caretaker goes in search of Whumpee only to find him soaking wet sleeping under a bridge.

[whumpbug]

Hi!!!

Whump this or that: sick whump or environmental whump?

-- @whumperofworlds

hello!!!! this is off to a hard start because this is IMPOSSIBLE

on one hand, i just love sick whump because its so universal. almost any kind of whumpee and au can have it and theres something so vulnerable about it. the way that whumpee's body is literally fighting itself from the inside out. the chills. the fever delirium. the muscle weakness. the exhaustion. UGH its just too good.

but also enviromental whump is so so so good. i like the lack of control the situation offers to the whumpee and caretaker alike. i'm a huge fan of a whumpee already being worn down and then it being made worse by the elements (snow and rain are my personal favorites) so environmental whump is also terrific.

ultimately, i think i'll go with sick whump for the sake of the game but i think my real answer is combining the two (≧▽≦)

thanks for the ask!!

[whumpers-inc]

Whumptober2021- Trapped Under Water

At first it’s fighting to keep their breath in, to prevent exhaling as they ration their oxygen, fighting uselessly to free themselves. Then the battle turns and it's a fight to keep the water out, to ignore the searing in their lungs as panic courses through their veins. Desperation turning to terror as the pressure mounts and their lungs scream for air.

But eventually the thrashing will slow and then stop as with an unconscious gasp, water replaces oxygen and soon all that is left of the struggle are the gentle ripples on the surface.

[whumpberry-cookie]

im sorry if i came off rude i thought whump was sickfics in general. can i have public/transportation sickfic prompts?

Ooooh, I understand! That's okay, anon!

Whump is basically about fictional pain writing, so it might include sickfic tropes, like characters fainting, having a fever or other sicknesses, recovering after injuires and recovering mentally after some trauma. And Caretaker comforting and nursing them. For these I reccomend searching: #comfort whump #whump aftercare #whump aftermath #sick whumpee #sickness whump #enviromental whump #caretaker comfort

But in whump you can also stumble upon the topics that might be triggering and scary for some readers, like kidnapping, interrogation and torture. Because exploring those is very popular in whump stories. So I think that filtering the words like: whumper; torture; pet whump; captivity whump; gore, might be a good idea if you'd prefer to avoid those.

I'm really sorry, it must have been really distressing for you to get the captivity content you didn't expect. I hope you're feeling well, anon!

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

Car/Public Transport Sickfic

Car:

It's an autumn night and Sickie is driving alone throught the countryside. Coughing from cold and dreaming about the hot meal and bath. But then the car run out of fuel and the gas station is too far away to walk in the dark. Sickie stops the car on the side of the road. Then takes several layers of blankets from the trunk. Curls up in the front sit and tries to fall asleep. Their nose and throat are burning, their head is pulsating with pain. They call their Caretaker waiting for them on the video chat. Sickie falls asleep to the sound of their friend's voice and soothing taps of the rain over the car roof.

A group of very good friends is travelling together. Sickie has a motion sickness so they took a pill for it and only after few minutes felt asleep on their friends shoulder. All the group is quietly giggling on how cute Sickie is when cuddling to friend's arm like to a plushie. The driver turns the volume of the radio down. And they all speak quietly until Sickie wakes up

Sickie's having an axiety attack/trouble with breathing for some reason while sitting on the back of the car. Caretaker (driver) stops the car on the side of the road. It's a sunny summer and all around them are the golden fields of sunflowers and corn. And the landscapes of the mountains. Caretaker helps Sickie get on the roof of the car and joins them after. They both sit, sunbathing and enjoying the warmth and beauty all around them. The aromatic breeze helps Sickie catch a breath. Caretaker helps Sickie "Slowly, breathe in... Now breathe out. Breathe in... Everything's okay"

Public transport:

Sickie and their Caretaker are standing in the crowded bus/metro. Sickie can't reach the poll to hold onto. Caretaker hugs them in their waist/shoulders to prevent them for falling. After several stops Sickie suddenly wakes up and realises they fell asleep in Caretaker's arms, while standing. They feel so secure.

Sickie use to faint so often recently, maybe because of some chronic illness that makes them feel weak. The bus is full so all the sits are taken. Whumpee walk up to someone to ask for a place. But when they sit down, they feel the stares of other passangers piercing Sickie through. Because they are young. Young people are supposed to be standing. Sickie closes their eyes and pretends to sleep, trying not to cry. Then some middle-aged woman sitting next to them gently touches their arm. "Hey, honey. That's okay. Do you need water? Do you want me to call someone for you? You look pale"

Sickie getting on a plane with a serious fever, telling themselves they can handle it on their own. But as soon as the plane land and the fly attendant wakes them up, they are so confused they don't know where they are and why they are in the plane. Is that the other country? They don't even know the language...! Then they almost faint with relief when they see their old friend waiting for them on the airport. The friend walks up to them and places their hand on Sickie's forehead "Dear, you're burning!"

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

Thank you for the ask and have a good day!

[auroragehenna]

No matter how much you squirm you won‘t get out ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Failed Escape

AI-less Whumptober

Day 20 Dehumanisation, Master and Servant kinda,

TW/CW: Failed escape, electrocution, intimte/creepy-whumper, angel/demon whump, pet whump, petnames, quick mild gore warning, a bit of enviromental whump? Somehow??, more magic whump, light wing whump, Word count: 1'326

Harmonia had waited until the house had finally gotten quiet. She was incredibly battered after today’s torture but she had to bring up the strength for this. Since today’s torture had finally ended and she was dragged back to her quarters she had been pacing her room. Changing potions and places in unequal sequences. Harmonia suspected that she was being watched and she had to make sure she wouldn’t attract attention when she would get up eventually. She had to get out of this hellhole. She just had to. Out of here. Probably out of Gehenna. And then…somewhere. She didn’t know where and she didn’t have time to think about it any further now. Her next change was about to happen, and that one would be it. She got up from in front of the fire and walked over to the door. She leaned her back against the door and slowly slid down into a crouching sit. From there she knotted her hands into each other and tried as inconspicuously as possible to get the magic gem she stole out from under her skin. Where she shoved it in a few days ago through a cut Electra had given her. Harmonia tried her best to suppress any sounds of pain as she was forced to re-open the barely healed cut with her nails. She had to keep quiet. There! It was bloody and greasy, but it would still work. Slowly she shoved the gem towards the door and when they touched, she heard the most beautiful sound. The soft click of the lock. Carefully, she got up, ripped a part of her clothing, and make-shift-bandaged her arm with it. If she failed, Electra’s anger about the ruined clothing would be the least of her problems, she thought. Slowly she got up and squeezed herself through the door. No guards. That was weird. And concerning. Then again, the demoness had quite the ego. Wouldn’t it be like her to be so sure of herself? Doesn’t matter, she didn’t have time for this. Harmonia would have preferred to fly; she would have preferred to be as fast as possible. But she couldn’t risk the airflow alarming somebody and she had to stay low-key. So she conquered meter and meter. Hallway after hallway in this labyrinth. Always looking over her shoulder. Neck, eyes, and ears straining to pick something up. Heart racing. Finally, after what felt like eons she arrived at a backdoor that led outside. She pressed the gem at the door, praying even though it was useless down here. Blessedly the door opened and she walked outside onto wet grass. Quietly she hushed through the door and closed it behind her. Finally, she could spread her wings. They have been itching to move. She slowly flew a few meters straight into the air, keeping close to the house wall. Before she could go, she needed to make sure there weren’t any guards outside either. But even as she reached the pointy end of the roof, there was nobody in sight. There was a thunderstorm, but she was assuming that was always the case here with Electra being a lightning demon and all. Harmonia turned around and flew towards one of the edges of the mansion. The one where there were a lot of trees and bushes. The only test left was now the barriers. She had memorized and inquired how many and at what point the barriers were. As she reached the first one and fortunately passed though it started to rain. Maybe she could really do this. Through the second barrier, stronger rain now. She avoided the tree crowns, getting more and more reckless in the need to escape. She was soaked as she reached the third barrier and pressed the gem against it. It gave and then everything exploded in white.

--

Wet. Wet and constant. That was what Harmonia felt as soon as she was able to feel anything again. Anything aside from pain. She turned her head and something stung faintly in her cheek. Grass. She was laying on grass. “Get up! You weren’t even unconscious, so get. Up!”, Electra ordered her angel with a voice colder than a glacier and with a far more dangerous edge.

Groaning Harmonia got up on all fours only to be kicked in the side by Electra’s boot and end up on her stomach again and push herself back up on her knees. Truthfully damage control was useless at this point but she couldn’t help clinging to the hope that it would help at least a tiny bit. She only now noticed that her wings felt like they were on fire and as she turned her head a micro-bit she knew why. Countless feathers were black and scorched. Her beautiful wings. That and the realisation that she failed was enough to make tears well up in her eyes.

“I am not even going to waste my breath on you too much. You know what you’ve done. You will face the consequences for it tomorrow. Follow me, you won’t be going back to your quarters tonight, obviously, your loyalties are not sufficiently adapted yet.”

“This can’t be happening. I was so close”, Harmonia whispered to herself.

Electra who had already started walking back towards the house stopped in her tracks. She didn’t turn around but her cold expression suddenly started to melt a bit until it broke into a grin. She chuckled. “Do you really believe that?”

Harmonia looked up to her silhouette through the hazeof tears in her eyes.

“You really believe that was all you? Oh, my stupid, stupid doll. Never make the mistake of underestimating me again. All of it, from the gemstones to you stealing one, over the unguarded perimeter, all of it, was a set-up. A test if you want. And you failed. And in the morning you will pay the consequences for your actions. Now! Move!”

Harmonia got up on shaky legs and winced when her burned feathers shuffled. She didn’t want to make the demoness even more mad so she hurried behind her. They really didn’t go the way to her own quarters. Electra led her up the stairs. No word was spoken but there was a tension in the air around them and Harmonia was sure it wasn’t just her imagination. Who knew with that woman. Finally, they halted in front of a big double door. Carved into the wood were the outlines of jewels and lightning flashes and much more.

A maid waiting outside the door opened it and let the two of them in. It was a big room kept in low lighting, with a grand bed, many windows and another cheminee.

Electra ordered Harmonia to wait and walked to the bed. Once there she crouched down and pulled out a heavy chain from underneath the bed. On the end of the chain, there was a thin metal collar. She ordered Harmonia to come and kneel next to her.

Harmonia did as she was told and Electra closed the collar around her throat and connected the short chain to the bedpost next to her head. Then she walked to a cupboard and pulled out a rope. With that, she walked back to Harmonia and ordered her to stretch out her legs. After she had bound them together she spoke again: “You will sleep here for the next time. Until I feel you’ve learned your lesson. And a word of advice, you don’t want to disturb me. Now, sleep.”

Again Harmonia did as she was told, what choice does she really have? She turned around with her bound legs and laid down on her stomach, her head resting on her arms to prevent the collar and chain from digging into her. From the exhaustion and the pain, she fell asleep pretty fast, she could just hope, that she could bear whatever was going to happen tomorrow…

Taglist: @yourlocalgaefae33, @princessofhe11, @greatkittencloud, @bisexuawolfsalt, @whumpasaurus101, @ailesswhumptober

[professional-idiocy]

Hero and Villain getting lost together in a snowstorm

[waywardwhump]

Trees

It’s dark. It’s quiet.

It’s cold. 

The whumpee curls into a tight little ball, the unyielding breeze merciless in its cruelty, stealing away more of their precious warmth with every brush against their skin.

They can see the sky, from where they lay. They can see the silhouette of trees. Dark shapes against the backdrop of the void.

It’s almost pretty. It’s almost peaceful.

The whumpee’s teeth chatter. They are helpless, one tiny speck in an enveloping forest that cares not for their life or their needs. 

[scath001]

Shadow

Series: De Profundis

Characters: Kevin

Trigger Warnings: depression, hallucinations.

Notes/ Links: 

--- --- ---

It was cold.

The rain, harsh with its sharpened shards of icy, cold water cascading down in a similar fashion to that of bullets leaving a firearm. The storm was fierce to say the least. Strong winds, easily snapping branches off and carrying the darkened clouds forward.

Kevin hadn’t been lucky today- well, not that he ever was to begin with, in all honesty. Hiding in an abandoned train station, the young man soon found out that he wasn’t alone. Something was near. Near and watching him from a distance.

The painter felt uneasy.

Bringing his arms around his freshly bruised chest, Kevin hugged himself, curling up on the wet pile of withered leaves, shutting his eyes tight as he tried to ignore the pair of wide, yellow eyes staring at him blocking the entrance of the tunnel. It was just a hallucination. It had to be. 

The shadows, their crazed hollowed out eyes. They couldn’t be real. Yet, how could it be inching closer?

Its movements, jerky; like a glitched out screen. The whispers seemed to grow louder, almost deafening even.

Worthless. Rat. Burden.

Kevin halted his breath, feeling the eyes fixed on him, the creature of shadow looming over him, as its boney shadowy fingers gently carding through his rain soaked hair. He barely choked out a whimper, his eyes still screwed shut tight, a sheen of cold sweat now glistening in what little light there was.

It was cold.