#hurtcember2024

[hurtcember]

Above is the official Hurtcember 2024 prompts list.

Below are alternative prompts in case one doesn't want to do a few of the prompts (but still do the whole challenge) or for those who just want to write/draw more.

Both lists are typed out at the bottom of this post.

RULES 1. You can write/draw for any fandom or pairing 2. You can write/draw SFW or NSFW content, just label it accordingly 3. Please tag any Tumblr posts sharing your prompt fills with #hurtcember2024 so that we can find and repost them 4. If you post your works to AO3, please add them to this collection and add "Hurtcember" and/or "Hurtcember 2024" to the additional tags of your prompt fill(s) 5. The challenge officially starts on December 1st but feel free to write/draw before then and/or submit things after the month ends officially, whatever works best for you 6. Be kind to other participants 7. You DO NOT have to do every single prompt if you don't want to. The point is to have fun and spark creativity, not to feel like you're doing a chore

Prompts List (Text Copy) 1. Collapse 2. Breakdown 3. Blood 4. Scars 5. Faint 6. Touch-Starved 7. Abandoned 8. Cuddle 9. Exhaustion 10. Touch Aversion 11. Caretaking 12. Cry 13. Nightmare 14. Near Death 15. Trauma 16. Bruise 17. Concussion 18. Fatigue 19. Desperate 20. Panic 21. Afraid 22. Self-Harm 23. Bed-bound 24. Dissociate 25. Accident 26. Guilt 27. Pain 28. Captive 29. Dehydration 30. Dizzy 31. Hyperventilation

Alt Prompts List (Text Copy) 1. "Don't leave" 2. "Help me" 3. "Leave me alone" 4. "It's my fault" 5. "Take my hand"

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Didn't Seem so Bad

|| Jinx x fem!reader

|| Warnings; reader has a fear of nightmares, Jinx being touch starved and wary of touch, Jinx softens for reader

|| Summary; when up late with Jinx one night, reader debates asking her for cuddles.

Requests closed!

Started; December 5th

Finished; December 5th

HurtCember2024; Day 6, Touch-Starved

Author Note; posting early again!

~~~

It was late one night. Jinx was up and working on whatever invention she was. You were sprawled across her couch, half asleep. You couldn't sleep though, because you didn't want to do it alone. You've been struggling with nightmares lately but have been too embarrassed to ask for help. So, Jinx didn't know. Plus, with your relationship still being new Jinx hadn't fully learnt how to read you yet. Otherwise she may have picked up on it by now without you having to say anything. You forced yourself up. Looking to your girlfriend, having an internal debate in your head. Should you go over? Ask for cuddles? You've been nervous about touching Jinx, knowing that anything could set the girl off. You weren't even sure if touch was something that Jinx wanted. If it was, she made no effort to show that to you.

"Jinx..?" No response, you should've guessed. She had a tendency to get completely sucked into her music and work. Forgetting the surroundings around her. Honestly, if you didn't know any better you'd have thought she'd forgotten you were even there. Slowly, carefully. You walked up to Jinx. Hesitant at first. Then your hand rested to her shoulder. Jinx immediately flinched, as though startled. Not by you, but by the feeling of your hand. She pulled herself away. Looking at you for a moment with startled eyes before focusing on her work again. Trying to ignore the feeling that had given her. She didn't need it.

"Don't do that," Jinx grumbled. Her finger trying to squeeze between a section of her invention. She'd dropped a bit in there while putting it on. Now it was stuck.. and so was her finger. Jinx grimaced when she realized, struggling to get it out. Muttering curses to herself. It didn't take a genius to realize what had happened. You chuckled a bit, hands wrapping around the weapon carefully. Eyes going to Jinx's in a silent permission. When she nodded, you yanked. The weapon slid off.

Jinx's finger was red around where it got caught, hurting a bit more than she cared to admit. You cupped her hands in your own, sitting yourself on her workbench. Inspecting her finger. Jinx's breath seemed to get caught in her throat. She wasn't used to being touched, it caught her off guard. She wasn't even sure if she liked it. But with you.. well, it didn't seem so bad to her. To say the least, the girl was touch starved.

"I think you're finger's alright. We don't gotta chop it off, at any rate," you teased. Earning an eye roll from Jinx that made you smirk. You fought back a yawn, though it slipped through. You were tired. Jinx was starting to notice.

She narrowed her eyes to get a better look, seeing the bags under your eyes. She knew that look all too well. After all, Jinx had seen it on herself many times. She frowned and hesitated, but then held her arms out to you," ..come here."

You didn't waste a second. Getting into her lap. Jinx grunted and tensed up, though she relaxed after a moment. Holding you close to her. Yeah, Jinx was alright with touch. As long as it was you who touched her. Her fingers idly played with your hair, her eyes looking to yours," is there a reason you haven't slept? Or are you just staying up to annoy me?"

A huff left you, Jinx smirked a bit. Your face buried itself into the crook of her neck, mumbling something that she couldn't quite catch. She pinched the side of your hip, making you jump," what?" Jinx asked. Needing you to repeat. You grumbled again, but clearer.

"I keep getting nightmares," you admitted. Jinx's expression softened at that. Nightmares... huh? Those were hard. She understood. Almost any time she tried to sleep. It was often the same nightmare. The memory that she relived. Jinx avoided sleep, too. She was sympathetic for you, though she would never be caught admitting that out loud.

"Nightmares? Care to.. elaborate?" Jinx asked. Her curiosity getting the better of her. In her eyes, you'd always seemed brave. Like you weren't afraid of anything. You weren't afraid of her, unlike most people. To know you had nightmares too... well, it made you a little more human. Someone she could relate to.

You told her about the nightmares you'd been getting, how they'd gotten so bad you were avoiding sleep. It wasn't that you didn't want to sleep. You really, really did. You just didn't trust your mind. And you told her all about that while she played with your hair. Jinx tried listening to your every word, but it was hard for her. Jinx was working on that, though.

"Could you, maybe.. cuddle me tonight?" You asked carefully. Feeling as Jinx got tense under you again. Cuddle you? She didn't know how to feel about that. Jinx was quiet for a long moment, before she spoke up.

"Fine," Jinx sighed, pointing a finger at you," you better not be a squirmer or I'm kicking you out."

Ironically enough, you quickly learnt that she was the squirmer. You didn't mind. And honestly, it was the best sleep you'd gotten in a month.

[aventurineswife]

“Don't Touch Me”

Tags: @lixhizy, Aventurine x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Touch Aversion, Hurt/No Comfort, Emotional Distance, Rejection, Vulnerability, Angst, Psychological Struggles, Unresolved Tension, Hurtcember 2024.

Warnings: Emotional Harm, Hurtful Rejection, Mentions of Trauma (Aventurine's Backstory), No Comfort.

A/N: First time joining a challenge, um yeah... 🧍‍♀️I'm not sorry

You had always admired his intellect from afar—Ratio, a brilliant mind that thrived in the pursuit of knowledge. But today, as you stood before him, his typically confident demeanor seemed at odds with his frayed composure. His hair fell into his eyes, and there was a tense energy about him that you couldn’t ignore. You had grown used to his aloofness, but today felt different.

"Are you going to stand there staring at me?" he asked, his voice sharp, a slight edge to it that made you flinch inwardly.

"Sorry, I didn’t mean to… I just thought—"

"Don’t think," he cut you off quickly, his gaze unwavering but cold. "It only complicates matters."

His words stung more than you expected. You could feel the cold distance between you growing, and yet, your heart twisted as his posture remained stiff, his arms tucked close to his body. His usual bravado was masking something deeper, but you could only glimpse the faint cracks in his armor. His eyes darted away from yours when you tried to make eye contact, as if uncomfortable with the vulnerability of being seen.

Without realizing it, you took a step closer, an impulse to offer support, but the moment your hand approached, he recoiled sharply. His gaze hardened as he took a step back, his body language signaling clear aversion.

"I don’t need your sympathy," Ratio snapped, the words laced with an emotion you couldn’t quite read—anger, frustration, or perhaps something more fragile beneath the surface. "Touching me will not fix your problems."

You hesitated, understanding now that it wasn’t just physical contact he was rejecting, but any attempt to bridge the gap between you. His need for control, his refusal to be vulnerable, twisted your chest painfully. You stepped back, unsure how to navigate the sharp divide he had created.

"I’m not here to fix anything," you murmured, but the words seemed insignificant in the face of his retreat. He didn’t respond, only turned away from you, as if dismissing the matter altogether. The silence stretched, suffocating, and you couldn’t bring yourself to break it.

You had hoped for understanding, but all you had found was the harsh reality of how little you truly meant in his meticulously ordered world.

Aventurine’s smile was nothing short of enigmatic—charming, yet distant, as he leaned back in his seat, casually surveying the room. The flicker of his eyes was unsettling, as if he could see through your very soul. You couldn’t help but feel an unease in his presence. It wasn’t just his sharp mind or the way he manipulated every conversation—it was his very presence that made you feel exposed.

"You seem… distracted," he remarked, his voice smooth, like velvet over sharp edges. His gaze lingered on you with an intensity that made you shift uncomfortably.

"I’m fine," you replied quickly, not wanting to admit the growing discomfort.

Aventurine leaned forward, his gaze never wavering. "You don’t seem fine. What’s wrong?"

You wanted to say something, anything to end the tension, but your words faltered. There was a distance between you, an invisible wall that neither of you seemed willing to breach. You tried to break the silence by stepping forward, but the moment your hand neared him, he flinched—just enough for you to notice, like a spark of fire quickly extinguished.

"Don’t," he said softly, his tone carrying a warning. "Touching me won’t make it better. It never does."

His words cut through the air like a blade. You froze, suddenly aware of the weight of the rejection in his voice. You had never seen this side of him before—the cracks in his facade, the vulnerability that he was so determined to hide. He quickly masked his discomfort with a strained smile, but it did nothing to soften the sting.

"You think you understand me," he continued, his voice taking on an edge. "But you don’t. Nothing ever does."

You could feel the hurt in his words, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything that might alleviate it. The space between you was so vast now, so suffocating. The man who thrived on calculated risk and manipulation was now someone you couldn’t reach.

You backed away, knowing that any attempt to draw closer would only deepen the divide. The silent rejection felt heavier than any words could express, and all you were left with was the hollow space between you, where the possibility of connection was buried beneath his armor.

[chunkypossum]

I wasn't going to share this. I was going to squirrel it away in my den of fear BUT then I saw the @hurtcember prompt list and so now I'm saying fuck it. Happy Hurtcember my wicked little whump loving Azris freaks.

First time I'm using my tag list in MONTHS. If you find you don't want to be there anymore just lmk!

Holla at ya boi if you want on or off the Azris tag train : @talibunny30 @iftheshoef1tz @born-to-riot @fieldofdaisiies @aktrain @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @secret-third-thing @acourtofladydeath @pippsmcgee @youvereachedthenearest-lovergirl @baileybird71 @skyesayshi @yanny-77 @areyoudreaminof @unanswered-stars @futurehunt @ninthcircleofprythian @matrixsss @going-through-shit @c-starstuff-man0 @jules-writes-stories @the-darkestminds @krowiathemythologynerd @cauldronblssd @hieragalbatorixdottir @yourlazykitkat @hellolordling @climbthemountain2020 @lilah-asteria  @shadowsandlint @acourtofbatboydreams @theeternalstruggle @christeareads @molcat07 @mistandmemories @neciebee @dusk-muse @chairofchaos @amalhe-kofee inspo under the cut: 𝑆𝑖𝑔𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑢𝑚, Robert Ferri

[whump-imagines]

Slip and Fall

Jay x reader

WC: 1200 roughly

For @hurtcember day 17 Concussion

--

You stood in the shower letting the warm water run down your back. You knew you were going to have to get out soon as the water started to cool.

When the water started to get uncomfortably cold, you turned it off and ran your hands over your head to ring the water out of your hair. Throwing your hair over your head and bending forward you grabbed the towel to wrap your hair.

Then you stood back up and swayed with lightheadedness. You took a step out of the tub and missed your footing. Before you knew what happened, you were on the floor and in pain.

Jay had just dropped his keys on the entry table when he heard a loud crash. “Y/N?” He yelled. Trying not to panic when he got no response, he headed toward the noise.

He was quickly in front of the closed bathroom door. He knocked and called your name again. “Are you okay?”

The only response he heard was a muffled whimper through the door.

“I'm coming in,” he announced as he turned the knob. He pushed the door open to find you sprawled on the floor. “Oh, my god.” He immediately slid to your side on his knees.

“Jay?” You asked, trying to figure out what had happened.

“I'm right here. Are you okay?” His eyes scanned over you looking for obvious signs of injury.

“Uh, yeah. I think so.” You reached out a hand. “Help me up.”

With one hand in yours and the other behind your neck, he pulled you into a seated position and leaned you against the tub. “What happened?”

“Um, I must have slipped. I was getting out of the shower and then I was on the floor,” you explained.

“Are you sure you're okay? Does anything hurt?” He pulled off the towel that was barely still holding your hair and ran his hands over your head. He turned your head to inspect a spot near your temple that was already turning purple.

“My head actually does and my knee a tiny bit.”

He looked at your knee quickly before his eyes locked back on your head. “Your knee looks okay. But I don't really like this bump.” He locked eyes with you. “Let's get you up.”

“Okay. Help me.” You offered him your hands when he stood and he pulled you to standing. You grabbed onto his shoulder to steady yourself.

He grabbed your towel and wrapped it around your shoulders. “Dizzy?” he asked.

“Just a little.”

He leaned forward and kissed your forehead near the forming bruise and swelling. “We're going to go see Will.”

You pouted. “I'm fine. I don't want to.”

“Baby, you hit your head really hard,” he argued. “Please let me take you to get checked out.”

You sighed. “Okay, fine.”

Jay helped you get dressed and slipped on your shoes for you. “Does it hurt to walk on your knee?” he asked.

Shaking your head, you answered, “No. It's just kind of achy like it's gonna be bruised.”

He offered you his hand. “Let's go.”

Fifteen minutes later, Jay was pulling into the visitor parking outside the ED at Med. He kept an arm around you as you made your way inside and to the nurses station.

Maggie greeted you both. “Hey, guys. What are you doing here?”

“Hey, Mags. Is Will around?” Jay asked.

“Yeah. He is in treatment four with a patient but he should be done in a minute,” she explained, gesturing toward the room.

Jay nodded. “Y/N took a tumble getting out of the shower. She hit her head pretty hard. I wanted him to check her out.”

You waved. “Yep, full klutz… that's me.”

“Oh, sweetie. Ouch,” she cringed sympathetically. “Just head into treatment one right here and I'll send him in.”

Within a few minutes of settling in the bed, Will pushed back the curtain. His eyes swept over you, assessing. “Maggie said you slipped and hit your head.”

You reached up and pushed your hair out of the way so he could see the bump. “Yeah. I was getting out of the shower and I must have slipped.”

Will moved closer and carefully probed about the bruising skin. “What did you hit it on?”

You shrugged. “The toilet… I think?”

“Based on where she landed, I would agree,” Jay chimed in.

Will nodded. “Did you lose consciousness?”

“Um, I don't think so.”

Will looked over his shoulder to his brother.

“I don't think she did. I heard the crash and was in the bathroom in less than a minute and she was conscious,” Jay explained.

“Follow my finger,” Will instructed, holding up his index finger. You did as instructed. Next, he pulled out a small flashlight. He flashed it in your eyes quickly.

You winced. “Ouch.”

Will hummed then held out his hands. “Squeeze my fingers.” Again, you did as he asked. “Headache?”

You nodded.

“Nausea, dizziness?” He asked.

“Just a little. The dizziness was mostly just when I stood up.”

“She said her knee hurt too,” Jay added.

“It's fine.” You rolled your eyes. “It's gonna be a nasty bruise but it's not that bad.”

Will shifted so he could look at your knee. He poked around the joint and asked you to bend and straighten it. “I agree with your assessment. This doesn't look too bad. Your head on the other hand… you definitely have at least a concussion. I want to send you for a CT just to make sure it's nothing worse.”

“Woo!” You say sarcastically. “I'll just take a nap and you can let me know when we can leave.”

Will shook his head. “Nope. No nap until after the scan. Sorry, kiddo.”

“I'm not a kid, jackass.”

An hour later, Will pushed open the curtain and you pulled the ice pack off your face. “Good news. The scan is all clear. You're free to go.”

You sat up quickly and swig your legs over the side of the bed. “Hallelujah.” You grasped the edge of the bed hard when you almost tipped over from dizziness.

“Woah, easy.” Jay was in front of you grasping your shoulders.

“Go home, get some rest. Jay is going to wake you up every three hours and make sure nothing changes,” Will explained. He turned to Jay. “If she gets worse, bring her back.”

“Thanks, Will,” Jay squeezed his brother's shoulder.

“Any time. Although, I really prefer when both of you stay out of my ED.”

Once Will had officially discharged you, Jay took you home and got you situated in bed.

“Anything I can get you?”

“Tylenol, please?” you asked.

“I'll be right back.” He turned to leave the room.

Before he could make it out the door, you stopped him. “Jay?” He turned back to you. “Maybe a sprite and some crackers too?”

“You got it.”

He quickly returned with the requested items. He sat on the bed and got comfortable with you leaned into his side.

You only ate a couple crackers before you were fighting to keep your eyes open. You handed the package back to him then slid down into the mattress.

“Get some sleep.” Jay set the crackers on the nightstand and laid down beside you. He opened his arm for you the cuddle against him. “I'll wake you up in a couple hours.”

You hummed, already starting to drift. “Mmkay. Love you.”

[irina-oganer]

Cuddle

Обнимите их, пожалуйста 🥺🤲

[stabbysideblog]

Breakdown

“Sam.” Dream’s voice is pitched up, tethering on the edge of panic. He reaches for the warden, blood-stained hands shaking. 

Sam paced back and forth, ignoring the other man, eyes only on the cooling corpse on the floor. “Look what you’ve done. Look what you’ve FUCKING done.” He slammed his hand into the wall. The obsidian didn’t yield.

The other Man shrinks away. He scrambles into a corner. He’d never seen the warden so furious. 

“I’m-”

“You’re sorry? Is that what you were going to say? Too little too fucking late for that Dream.” He spits the words through gritted teeth finally seeming to notice the pale man in the corner of the cell pressed against his chest. 

“I don’t- He- He was torturing me! I didn’t- how was I-”

“Shut up.” Sam summons his trident, stepping over the body and pointing it at Dream. It presses against his throat. “I don’t want to hear another word out of your mouth while I think.”

The next week was torturous. 

The next month was worse. 

The next year broke him. 

The prisoner laid next to the lava skin slowly crisping and flaking away. 

“Prisoner.” Sam yelled across the lava “Dream.” He throws a pearl. The prisoner doesn’t flinch, doesn’t curl away, doesn’t cry or beg. “That’s enough. Get up now.” The prisoner stares at the ceiling single remaining eye void of recognition. Sam snaps in his face, kicks him, pours a bucket of water on him. Nothing. 

[cuddlepilefics]

Winter flu

Fandom: Stray Kids

Sickie: Seungmin

Caregivers: Stray Kids

@hurtcember 1 collapse, 5 faint

@whumpcember alt6 could you stay a little longer?

@fluff-cember

 

No one’s POV.:

Glancing at the couch, Felix furrowed his brows. Him and Seungmin had spent the first half of the day decorating their shared apartment to help them get into the Christmas spirit. Not long after they were done, Seungmin had stretched out on the couch, not even interested in having lunch first. Felix had planned to bake cookies that afternoon, making the most of their day off, but now that his friend was sleeping in the living room, he didn’t want to wake the younger.

Felix grabbed a fluffy blanket from his room and carefully covered Seungmin with it, noting how the vocalist’s brows were drawn into a frown. He didn’t look comfortable but their couch had never been the best place to rest and he’d most likely end up sore later. Felix didn’t have the heart to wake him though, so he went to play computer games in his room to grant the other as much sleep as possible. He could still bake his cookies later.

When Seungmin woke up, his body was stiff and achy, making him groan as he sat up. He turned his head a few times and rolled his shoulders in an attempt to loosen up the tight muscles but it did little to help. All it did, was make his head pound and pressed the balls of his hands against his eyes. Gulping, Seungmin figured some water would help him get his bearings. He really shouldn’t have slept on the couch because now, he felt like he had been hit by a car, which was not how he had wanted his day off to go.

Sluggishly getting to his feet, Seungmin clutched the back of the couch and panted as his heart suddenly started to race. For some reason, he felt awfully shaky all of a sudden. Water would surely make it better, right? Dragging his achy body to the kitchen, Seungmin poured himself a glass of water and almost dropped it from how badly his hands were trembling. He ended up spilling some onto himself, barely noticing it though.

“Felix?!”, Seungmin yelled, suddenly feeling lightheaded. He set the glass down and clutched the counter for support. Sliding down with his back against the kitchen cabinets, Seungmin prayed the other wasn’t wearing his headphones as he felt his consciousness slipping away. Though Felix had his headphones on, he did hear his friend’s call and rushed to the living room. It took a moment for him to find the vocalist slumped on the floor in the kitchen. Rushing over, Felix crouched next to Seungmin and gasped: “Hey, hey, you with me?” – “F-feel faint…”, the younger slurred, weakly holding his head in his hands.

“Okay, alright… lay down”, Felix rambled, helping Seungmin ease himself into a flat position, “Deep breaths.” The Aussie ran a kitchen towel under cold water and draped it across the other’s forehead. Squeezing Seungmin’s shoulder, Felix hummed: “Talk to me. Gotta know you’re still with me. What happened?” – “Dunno”, the vocalist breathed, fidgeting his hands, “’s getting better. Jus’ -jus’ don’ feel good. Gosh, my head.” – “You’re burning up”, Felix frowned as he pressed the backs of his fingers against Seungmin’s pale cheek.

When Seungmin felt a little better, Felix helped him sit back up and handed him his glass, steadying his hand so he could drink a few sips. Rubbing the vocalist’s back, Felix hummed: “Were you already feeling bad earlier or did this come out of nowhere?” Clearing his throat, Seungmin rasped: “I felt a bit off but when I woke up, everything hurt. ‘m jus’ so out of sorts.” – “That sounds like the flu to me”, the older frowned, “Do you have any other symptoms?” – “Throat”, Seungmin whispered as he handed the glass back.

With Felix’ help, Seungmin managed to get back to the couch and weakly collapsed into the cushions. Shivering, he pulled the fluffy blanket around his shoulders and sniffled: “This sucks, we only just got a day off.” – “Better now than be sick on Christmas”, Felix argued, trying to look on the bright side, “You look chilled. Want me to make some hot chocolate?” – “Don’t feel like I could stomach it right now”, the younger pouted as he curled up on the couch.

Feeling too miserable to go back to sleep, Seungmin insisted on staying in the living room because he wanted to have Felix close by. Since he didn’t need to worry about waking his friend, Felix turned on a soft Christmas playlist and started his baking. Placing a teapot and cup onto the coffee table, the Aussie whispered: “Let me know when you feel like you could handle a light meal. You’ll probably feel more like yourself once you’ve had some medicine.”

Apparently, Seungmin had drifted off because the next thing he knew was a gentle hand stroking his hair. He made a small noise at the back of his throat and the hand stilled for a moment. “I didn’t mean to wake you”, Chan whispered as he resumed petting his dongsaeng’s head, “Lixxie had invited us over to look at your guys decorations and to try some cookies. We didn’t know you were sick.” We? Seungmin blearily blinked his eyes open and winced when the light made his head pound. It dimmed significantly a moment later, the leader carefully covering his face with his hand softly calling out for someone to turn it off.

Jeongin was quick to turn off the lights and switch on the Christmas decorations instead. He felt guilty for coming over. Sure, they had been invited but that had been before Seungmin had fallen ill and the vocalist probably didn’t want the entire group over when he was feeling this bad. They had tried to keep it down but now, Seungmin had woken up anyway. Chan helped Seungmin sit up and asked: “How’re you feeling?” Rubbing his face, the younger winced: “Ugh, when did I get so stuffy?” – “Hang on, I’ll grab some tissues”, Minho smiled, handing Seungmin his tea.

Minho had joined Felix in the kitchen as soon as he learned that their dongsaeng was sick. While the Aussie finished the last batch of cookies, Minho started to prepare some jook, so it could simmer. “Here you go”, the dancer hummed, plucking a few tissues from the box and handing them to Seungmin before placing the box on the coffee table. Seungmin blew his nose and mumbled: “Thanks. When did you get here? Oh, and who all is here?” – “Group hangout”, Chan chuckled, “We only got here half an hour ago though.” – “If it gets too much, you can always kick us out. We wouldn’t want to wear you out more”, Minho added. Closing his eyes, Seungmin sniffled: “It’s nice to know you’re close by, just don’t expect too much of me.”

Assuring Seungmin that their only expectations were Felix’ cookies, Chan helped the vocalist to the bathroom. Changbin and Jisung had volunteered to grab takeout for the group, so they could focus on caring for their friend. And care, Seungmin needed. He had successfully changed his clothes after sweating through them but it had taken a lot out of him. Walking back to the living room next to Chan, Seungmin startled the leader by suddenly clutching his arm. Before the eldest could ask him what was wrong, Seungmin’s knees buckled.

Chan had managed to catch Seungmin just in time and carefully lowered him to the floor. His yell had alerted Hyunjin and Jeongin, who were by their side in an instant. Seungmin was out cold though, not even twitching when Chan patted his cheek. “What happened?”, Hyunjin frowned, kneeling next to them to feel Seunngmin’s wrist. Shaking his head, the leader muttered: “I don’t know. He reached for me and then he was out. Hey, you hear me, Minnie?” – “His pulse is really fast”, Hyunjin observed, letting go of the vocalist’s wrist to shake his arm instead.

Seungmin came to with a soft whimper. His ears were ringing and he felt his pulse thumping in his head. “Couch?”, Hyunjin asked and Chan nodded. Together, they lifted Seungmin off the floor and carried him to the living room. Jeongin grabbed a few cushions and elevated the vocalist’s legs as soon as his hyungs had placed him down. Swiping a magazine off the coffee table, Chan fanned Seungmin’s face and cooed: “You’re okay, Minnie. We got you.” – “Just stay down for a while”, Hyunjin instructed, refilling the vocalist’s cup.

While Seungmin recovered, Changbin and Jisung returned with their food and were taken aback when they learned just how bad their friend was doing. Serving the vocalist a bowl of jook, Minho informed: “You’ll feel better once you had some meds, so you gotta eat something. Doesn’t have to be much but you need something in your tummy. We’ll join you in a moment, so you won’t have to eat alone.” – “If you feel like you can stomach it, you get a cookie afterwards”, Felix piped in. Sniffling softly, Seungmin breathed: “Can you help me sit up? Feel like mush.”

Removing the cushions from under his dongsaeng’s legs, Minho propped the boy up and handed him a tissue when the shift made his nose run. Chan and Hyunjin helped Changbin and Jisung plate their food and joined the others in the living room. “Do you feel up for watching a movie?”, Jisung asked Seungmin as he settled down with his plate, “We could start the holiday season with a Christmas movie.” – “Hm, let’s see if the medicine does anything. I don’t mind just laying here while you guys watch something though”, the vocalist mumbled, “Just hearing that there’s someone around already helps a lot.”

Jeongin brought Seungmin some medicine when he had finished his jook and Felix handed him the promised cookie, rewarding him for his struggle. Seungmin contently nibbled the treat, savoring the sweet flavor before laying back down with his head in Changbin’s lap. Gently stroking his dongsaeng’s hair, the rapper hummed: “Do you need anything else? Are you comfy?”

Though Seungmin claimed to be comfortable, Felix tucked him in properly while Jisung fetched and icepack and wrapped it in a towel, so Changbin could hold it to their friend’s forehead. The cold touch soothed the headache a bit and made it easier for Seungmin to hold out till the medicine kicked in. “I made hot chocolate for everyone to go with the cookies, so if you want any instead of your tea, just let me know”, Felix whispered as he squeezed the younger’s knee. The corner of Seungmin’s lips twitched up into a faint smile and he mumbled: “Thanks. The cookie was nice but I don’t think I can handle that at the moment.” – “That’s alright”, Felix cooed, “I didn’t want you to feel like I forgot about you though.”

In the end, Seungmin didn’t even know which movie his friends watched, already feeling floaty as he relaxed into Changbin’s comforting touch. Once the medicine kicked in, he finally felt well enough to get some proper rest and ended up sleeping throughout the entire movie. Chan carried him to his room and tucked him in, not wanting him to have to walk back to his room later, afraid he’d collapse again. For a moment, Seungmin woke up and groaned when his back touched the mattress. Resting his hand on his dongsaeng’s chest, Chan shushed: “You’re okay. Go back to sleep, Minnie.” The younger shook his head though, blearily glancing up at the leader. “Could you stay a little longer, hyung?”, Seungmin breathed, weakly reaching for Chan’s hand.

Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, Chan smiled: “As long as you want me here.” He let the younger tug him into bed and lay down alongside him. “Are you cold?”, Chan asked when he felt Seungmin shiver. The vocalist nodded against his hyung’s arm and whined when the older whispered that he couldn’t have another blanket because his fever was already so high. He relaxed though when Chan rubbed his arms, generating enough warmth to soothe the chills and ease his dongsaeng back into a deep slumber.

[whumperwithwings]

Hurtcember 2024 Day 1

1: Collapse

Whumpee gripped the table below them as they lapsed in speech, their vision turning into a black net from the inside out as they closed their eyes and shook their head, trying to keep their composure.

"Whumpee? Are you alright?" The voice came from Caretaker, sitting across from them, their finger on their chin as they asked an inquisitive question that Whumpee could hardly hear, the world rapidly escaping their clutches and turning into a pitch black abyss.

[romirola]

I was reading through snapshots of dahlia and I always forget how much I love your David and sweetheart dynamic

Ahhhhh it’s so good

I had this little scenario in my head where sweetheart gets a touch of magic depletion syndrome after working but they promised milo they would go to the pack meeting and they do all with the eyes of a Concerned pack watching them . Milo is being perfect as always lol

Idk if you might write something like that or we can just geek out over it together lol

-😊✨lumi

Lumi, thank you so much for this incredible prompt! How did you know? How did you KNOW that I cherish Daivd’s and Sweetheart’s friendship? (Hmm, perhaps my other stories do reveal that secret…) Additionally, the timing for this one was perfect because it allowed me to participate in the WONDERFUL fanfic prompt event: @hurtcember. Hurtcember offered a hurt/comfort prompt for each day of December. Today's prompt was "pain." Thank you, hurtcember-creator, for organizing the event!

I changed the prompt slightly to offer more focus on that dynamic, and I truly hope you enjoy. 

Prompted by @luminesceintbutterfly; Rating: T; WC: ~2K; Prompts: Sweetheart and David friendship

Read the oneshot on AO3!

[val-creative]

Merry Whumpmas! Day 2: 'Broken Bone'

Hurtcember Day 2: 'Breakdown'

Whumpcember Day 2: 'This is your fault'

Medcember Day 2: 'Septic Shock'

Rise of the Guardians

For the Merry Whumpmas 2024 Day 2 prompt "Broken Bone"!

For @medcember's Day 2 prompt "Septic Shock"

For @whumpcember's Day 2 prompt "This is your fault"

For @hurtcember's Day 2 prompt "Breakdown"

Type: Fanfiction | Fandom: Rise of the Guardians (2012) | Characters: E. Aster Bunnymund, Sophie Bennett, Jamie Bennett, Jack Frost, Other Rise of the Guardians Character(s) | Ships: None.

Warnings & Triggers: Major Character Injury, Illness, Near Death.

---

During the very next spring, Bunnymund watches the river moss and sedum and green flowering lichen creep and cover the oasis's stones.

He always welcomes down the two kids: Jack Frost's first believer and The Last Light, Jamie Bennett, and... Jamie's sister, Sophie. Out of all the Guardians there ever were, Bunnymund's her favorite.

Sophie often runs around the Warren, chasing the unpainted eggs, laughing at the brooks bubbling and ancient-carved stone heads dancing. Sophie jumps at Bunnymund's feet to dance along, eagerly tugging his paw, batting her eyes up at Bunnymund without saying a word and getting whatever she wants. As if princess to Bunnymund's own domain. She may as well be. No other kid was ever so loved.

"No, Sophie! Don't jump off those!" Jamie yells, waving over to his little sister taking tumbles off the stone heads flailing to catch her.

One of them misses, and Sophie lands with a thud. But she's smiling.

Reassured by it, Bunnymund waves off a frowning Jamie instead. "No more fussing! It's an Easter picnic, mate!" he announces. Jamie's shoulders slowly go tense. "We got jellybeans! We got ham and we got carrot cake and we got pepper deviled eggs and we got--!"

At another high-pitched holler, Sophie leaping again, Jamie gets up. He marches to the nearby pond she plays at, calling out again.

"What are ya gonna do when Sophie's all grown up?" Jack mumbles, glancing between her and Bunnymund's eyes entirely focused on her. "The day's coming, y'know. She's turning nine in December this year."

"You should ask yourself that question instead, mate," Bunnymund sharply points out, and Jack makes a bit of a face, nibbling on one of the deviled eggs and ignoring Jamie's back. "He'll be out of middle school soon enough. That's usually when they stop believing..."

"Hm, no." Jack shakes his head, insisting, and Bunnymund huffs, "No. I'm not worried about Jamie. You guys have had adult believers."

"But they never remember to look... and to SEE us, Jack."

Unconvinced, Jack still shakes his head, frowning now like Jamie.

"JACK! JACK, HELP!"

Jamie's panicking scream echoes through the Warren, and a fierce-looking Jack's running off even before Bunnymund gets himself up.

At the pond's edge, water ripples. Where's Sophie?

He manages to get it out between breathes, Jack's hands protectively clasping Jamie's face--"Sophie fell in! I think she's hurt!"

Bunnymund doesn't wait, diving in, searching her out underwater. His rabbit-heart thrums fast. Something must be wrong. Very, very wrong. Because Sophie knows how to swim... and if she can't swim...

When Bunnymund pulls her out, his fur soaked, Sophie gasps for air and trembling and cries in Bunnymund's paws, holding her left arm.

It looks distorted to Bunnymund, swelling red. And unnaturally warm.

"Oh, no..."

---

He was the fastest out of everyone. Bunnymund whispered to Sophie cry-hiccupping Bunnymund's name into his dripping wet bunny fur, unsure of how to make her better, heaving them above ground.

Unfortunately, Sophie's arm didn't get any better. The skin purpled. Bunnymund thought he caught a whiff of a fever on Sophie building.

Mr. and Mrs. Bennett took her away, frantic.

They were mad at Jamie at first, scolding him for not watching Sophie and letting her get into trouble, then... they weren't. Sophie got worse. From an infected bone fracture, Bunnymund learns.

For a while, Sophie slept while being taken care of doctors. And slept. And slept past the time Sophie was meant to wake after her surgery.

Before she woke up in that morning, nearly a month after Easter, Jamie confronted a devastated-looking in Jamie's own bedroom. "This is your fault!" Jamie yelled, tearfully ramming little fists against Bunnymund's chest. "I hate you! I hate you, Ihateyou!"

He finally broke, angrily sobbing. Jack, watching them solemnly from the door, nodded. Bunnymund lowered his ears and hugged onto Jamie sobbing louder and hugging Bunnymund back reluctantly.

(Jamie didn't hate him... he didn't hate anyone, Jack mumbles to Bunnymund when it's late in the night. That wouldn't ever be Jamie.)

"It is my fault, Jamie... I thought she would always be safe with me..."

---

Bunnymund sneaks to Sophie's window as soon as she's home.

Sophie notices him, grinning, trying to open her window. Instead of having her struggle with it, Bunnymund opens it and climbs in.

"Hi!"

Bunnymund's nose-whiskers twitch. She smells like herself again. "Hi, Soph," he says, eyeing Jamie wheel up Sophie's oxygen tank.

"Did you have something to say, Sophie?" Jamie mentions.

She flattens her lips, glaring a moment at her brother.

"I... I promise I won't practice hopping anymore."

"That's what happened in the Warren?" Bunnymund mumbles, awed. "You were trying to practice to be... a rabbit like me... and hop high?"

When Sophie looks down, a little more ashamed, Jamie seems satisfied and pats her uninjured arm. Bunnymund minds her little hot pink cast, hugging Sophie, cupping the back of her blonde head.

"You need to all better first, okay... that's the most important thing," Bunnymund reminds her, letting an eager-eyed Sophie rest on his huge and furred knee. "Then... I'm gonna teach you even more secret rabbit tricks. Not even the other Guardians know about them."

It's worth hearing a giggle. Because one day, Sophie will grow up. And Sophie will understand how truly, deeply loved she really is.

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Rest, My Darling

|| Ambessa Medarda x fem!reader

|| Warnings; reader's exhausted and lacking sleep, reader passes out, Ambessa worried for reader, Ambessa taking care of reader

|| Summary; when in a meeting, Ambessa hears something outside the door where reader was posted. What could have happened?

Requests closed!

Started; December 9th

Finished; December 9th

HurtCember2024; Day 9, Exhaustion

~~~

Exhaustion seeped through your body. Clouding your mind, your vision. You can't remember the last time you felt so weak. Ambessa had been in a meeting with the Council, going on about whatever it was she was talking about. You weren't sure. Even as her girlfriend she kept you in the dark on a lot of projects. Saying that you didn't need to worry about them and to let her handle things.

Of course, you listened without question. You always did. Ambessa loved your loyalty. It was one of the reasons she had fallen for you to begin with. She'd stationed you just outside the door, being her personal guard for the evening. You agreed without hesitation, having mot realized your growing exhaustion at the time. It's been a while since you'd had a good sleep. Often only managing to get no more than a couple hours before work called again. Seems your schedule was finally catching up to you.

"And then if we-" Ambessa stopped talking when she heard a clatter outside the door. The sound of a bunch of armour hitting the floor. Followed by a thud. What were you doing out there? Ambessa looked to the Council, who was watching her every movement. Having already been wary of her," just a moment."

She walked over to the door to check on you. Not knowing what she would find on the other side. Were you hurt? Alive? She didn't think you could be taken down so easily. So she held hope. Ambessa threw the door open, her eyes widening when she saw you. Unconscious on the floor. Her eyes quickly scanned the area for any threat or cause. When she realized there was none, Ambessa became confused. Before it dawned on her. Exhaustion.

Kneeling down next to you, Ambessa picked you up with ease. She could see the bags under your eyes. The pure tiredness etched into your face. She sighed, well she could always continue the meeting with the Council another time. You were her priority. Damn you, weakening her. You were her greatest weakness next to Mel. But at the same time, you made her all the more stronger. Giving her reasons to fight. Reasons to stay alive.

"We'll continue our conversations later," Ambessa addressed the Council. They shared confused looks, Mel eyeing her mother. Glancing to you in her arms. She knew about you and her mother's relationship. Sometimes Mel wasn't sure how to feel about it.

Ambessa carried you out of the room and to the place you and her were staying while in Piltover. She set you down on the bed, hand trailing your face. Cupping your cheek. She can't remember the last time she'd ever seen you so worn out. Just how little sleep were you getting? You weren't putting all your energy into your work, were you? Oh, of course you were. That's just what you did. You were a worker.

"Rest, my darling," she murmured. Not caring if you couldn't hear her, her thumb brushed your cheek before she let go. Giving you one more thoughtful gaze before heading to the kitchen. Getting you a glass of water for whenever you woke up. Normally she would just make somebody else do this, if it were a glass for herself. But when it came to you? Ambessa was the only one to take care of you. That's just how she wanted it.

[elodiah]

@badthingshappenbingo

Prompt: Passing Out from Pain

Fandom: Loki

@hurtcember

Hurtcember - #3: Blood

[cosmic-adventurers]

This story is for @fluff-cember (Alternate Prompt: Home-cooked Meals), @hurtcember (Day 12: Cry), and @ao3tagbingo (Tag: Emotional Hurt/Comfort)

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries

Rating: T

Pairing: Damon/Elena

Fluff, angst, humor, emotional hurt/comfort, banter, mutual pining

Word count: 3834

Summary: When a sudden storm prevents them from following up on a lead to look for Stefan, Damon suggests baking some pignoli cookies to cheer Elena up – but maybe there’s more behind her weird behavior than he realizes. Takes place in early S3.

Elena had been playing the weirdest game of hide-and-seek with him for days. Dodging him like she'd suddenly developed an allergy for Damon cooties one minute, and them desperately seeking him out - flimsy non-excuse in hand - the next.

On top of that, it was the first rainy afternoon in weeks, spreading through several states, which put a sudden halt to his secret plans to track Stefan and Klaus in the Smokies, based on a half-reliable lead at best. In fact, all the forecasts predicted golden, sunny weather, with only the slightest chance of rain, and the sudden storm seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Some local coven was probably agonizing that their precious herbs weren't getting enough of Mother Nature's tears, and overdid it on the rain ritual. Typical. Or maybe chaos was just in the air.

Speaking of.

Damon leaned against the doorway to the parlor of the Boarding House, swirling a tumbler of bourbon as he watched the whirlwind of pen strokes and turmoil write herself into a storm to rival the one railing outside. Sometimes their eyes would meet, and as soon as she was caught, a delectable blush would coat her cheeks, diverting her attention to the journal once more. Occasionally, she would pause and stare at seemingly nothing – her gaze filled with a distraught kind of confusion. But then she would wrap her fingers around her vervain necklace, and a profound sense of calm would kiss her features once more – her eyes would flutter closed and her lips would curl into a smile, as though the necklace itself gave her strength, a steady reservoir of joy. He’d be lying if he didn’t admit that those moments were bittersweet. As nice as it was to see the anxiety leave her spirit, however fleetingly, the knowledge that it was all thanks to thoughts of his saintly brother made the whole thing taste like ash.

This behavior, where Elena alternated between seeking him out and avoiding him, caught in a loop of soft vulnerability and sharp frustration, began on her birthday last week.

He chalked it up to her learning that her sanctimonious, morally-upright Saint Stefan was more Hyde than Jekyll, but that still didn’t explain the odd moments he’d find her staring at him with a look suspiciously like longing, only to quickly turn away and pretend to busy herself with the journal lying upside down on her lap when he caught her. Or, on the off chance that the notebook was aligned correctly, she’d begin scribbling in it like someone possessed, seemingly desperate to free herself of the persistent something that kept her captive.

He assumed it was some kind of tragic ode of longing for his pompous brother, filled with melodramatic rhetoric about the noble virtues of his Hero Hair and broody disposition.

But that wasn’t even the really weird part.

No, what really puzzled him were some of the telltale signs that he’d already been accustomed to since they’ve met, only dialed up to eleven: her dilated pupils when he got a little too close; her racing heartbeat whenever some part of her would brush some part of him, accidentally-on-purpose; the enticing shift in her scent whenever she caught sight of him, that stirred something deep and primal within him. But Damon knew that she’d wanted him for a while, so what changed? Even then, he knew that it wasn’t just physical attraction – there were feelings behind the yearning glances she’d cast his way when she was certain he was otherwise occupied – but this took it to an entirely different level.

And whatever it was, it was starting to drive him crazy.

 All right. Enough of this. He could only take so much tense silence. He swallowed the remaining bourbon in his tumbler, and swaggered over to her, hoping to remind her what fun actually looks like.

 “Oh, Stefan! My Broody Knight in Rock-Hard Hair Gel!” Damon mocked in a dramatic falsetto, lifting an imaginary journal with Shakespearean flair to emote a staged reading with one hand, and using the other to clutch at his heart. “The caverns of your frown lines run so deep, that I find myself lost and adrift in the memory of your mopey silences –”

 Elena raised an eyebrow, finally putting her notebook down. Ooh, and look – right-side-up this time. A solid 30% track record. “What’s the matter, Damon? Not getting enough attention?”

 “Not even close!” Damon said, giving her a sultry wink before resuming his performance. “Your moral superiority –”

 “Is that what you think I write about?” She rolled her eyes theatrically, but Damon saw the upward twitch of her lips that she tried to hide – mission accomplished.

 “And lo! How I’ve been forced to part with thy tragic perfection – whose visage alone makes all the forest animals weep – though perhaps it’s with relief. And instead, must endure the company of your much wittier, sexier, more charming brother!”

 Elena tapped her chin thoughtfully, her dark eyes sparkling with mirth. “Fake falsetto Elena raises a great point, you know. The ‘wittier, sexier, more charming brother,’ might be growing an ego large enough to form its own gravitational field, and that puts her in danger,” she expressed in mock-concern, punctuating his title with air quotes.

 Damon shrugged, a lazy grin forming as walked over to the wet cart and poured himself another glass. “Being a danger magnet’s kind of her thing.”

 She rewarded him with an infectious laugh that warmed something in his chest with a delicious ache. “So, is this the plan? Spend the rest of the afternoon making bad guesses about my journal?”

 “Nope!” He grabbed his phone, bringing up a search engine. The truth was that her behavior began to worry him. Clearly Stefan’s sacrifice was weighing heavily on her. And while baby bro was busy earning his Martyr Merit Badge with the Original Drama Lord, Elena continued to spiral. The absolute last thing she needed was this, and after losing both pairs of her adopted parents and birth parents – forced to watch three of them die violently – this could have finally set her over the edge. “Is it my turn to make bad guesses?” She responded with a grin of her own.

 “We’re going to make pignoli cookies,” he replied with a wink. “I just need to pick up some almond paste and pine nuts.” A quick Google search told him that they carried them both in the supermarket in the next town over. Frowning in contemplation, he decided it would probably be faster if he just ran.

 When he came back less than ten minutes later, he was less-than-surprised to find her frozen in the same position with a blank look on her face, looking past what he was sure were fascinating figures on the wall. 

 “How did you get back here so fast?” she finally asked, clearly startled when he walked in, his now-soaked fitted tee clinging to him in a way that made her pupils instantly blow up in size, followed immediately by an adorable blush and a refusal to meet his eyes. There she is.

 Damon rolled his eyes theatrically. “I’m a vampire, Elena. We have a little thing called ‘super-speed’ – at least those of us not beholden to the whims of Bambi’s new workout regimen.”

She hopped off the couch, surprising him by leaving her precious journal unattended to peek into the bags.

He playfully smacked her hands away when she reached for the pine nuts, 

"I didn’t know you could bake.”

 “I have lots of hidden talents,” he said, letting his tone drop suggestively, while tearing the almond paste into smaller pieces. “But I like cooking more. Baking’s a bit too precise for me. I like something a little more … experimental.” He extended the last word suggestively, meeting her gaze with that same flirtatious flash of his eyes that he’d been expressly told not to do. What did she call it? ‘The eye thing?’

 She instantly ducked her head trying to hide her physical reaction, which suited every smug instinct in him just fine. She must have picked up on it though – it’s like she had a special radar for when he got too cocky in her presence, and immediately met his gaze again, raising her eyebrows in playful challenge. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

 “What do you think it means?”

 She tilted her head to the side cheekily. “I’m not sure this is the appropriate time to discuss all your kinks.”

 He gasped dramatically. “Oh my God, Elena! Get your mind out of the gutter. I meant experimenting with different flavor profiles.” Before she could respond, he dashed up to Stefan’s room and back, retrieving the stuffed teddy bear she’d been keeping there when she spent the night.

“Is she like this with you, too, Gummi?” he asked the bear, exaggerated concern written all over his features. His voice dropped to a stage whisper. “Does she sexually harass you, too?”

“All the time, Damon!” he cried in an even higher falsetto than before, really straining his voice, while wiggling the teddy’s little hands and feet in front of his face. 

 “Show me, Gummi. Show me where Elena’s hurt you.” He directed the little paw to point right at his heart, placing his own hand over it in a dramatic display of compassion for the stuffed bear.

“I just want her to love me,” Damon-as-Gummi cried, the sound of her laughter reducing everything inside him to jelly, and urging him to continue, unable to fight the uncharacteristically foolish grin on his face, “but Elena won’t stop talking about sex.”

He turned to Elena, wagging his finger at her in a display of disappointment. “You need to learn to control yourself, Elena. Poor Gummi’s traumatized.”

She grinned deviously, surprising him with a decidedly sultry step forward, so much that she was able to yank the bear from his hands without him noticing. “Nah, he’s just a prude. He’s supposed to be my Emotional Support Plushie, there to listen to all my wicked fantasies, but clearly he can’t keep up.”

Damon’s physiological response was immediate, his pupils darkening his eyes with desire as he narrowed the gap between them, their breaths practically mingling in their shared proximity as his gaze dropped to her lips. He told himself it was to call her bluff. “Maybe Gummi just needs a little break. I can be your Emotional Support Plushie, Elena. You can tell me all your wicked fantasies.”

Her heartbeat accelerated again and he was crushed to catch a glimpse of regret on her face as she grasped her necklace, stepping away from him to catch her breath. “Let’s get those cookies started?” Her voice cracked with false cheer, breaking the tension-filled spell in the room.

 “Why are you using a food processor, anyway, Mister I’m-a-super-speedy-vampire? Shouldn’t you be able to do it by hand?” Elena asked in challenge, leaning over the counter playfully as she watched Damon add the almond paste, confectioner’s sugar, egg white, salt, and vanilla into the machine. “Since you’re ‘too cool for pilates with Bambi,’” she mocked impishly.

“I didn’t want to overwhelm you,” he drawled, grabbing a whisk from one of the drawers and replacing the items into a large bowl. “The fragile human mind can only be exposed to so much cool at a time, and you’ve been spending most of your time with a guy whose idea of fun is quoting Puritan prayer books from memory.” Within seconds, though, his hand began to spin in a veritable blur, earning a squeal of delight from Elena.

“That’s so cool!” She leaned in closer, narrowing her eyes at the speedy motions before pulling back, a cheeky grin on her face. “You should make meringue next.”

When the cookies were finished, Elena grabbed one as soon as it wouldn’t scald to the touch, moaning at the taste. “Oh my God, these are amazing!” She leaned back on the couch, an expression of pure bliss on her face.

Damon’s throat constricted, and the promise of being able to leave with the receding rain almost felt like a blessing. He didn’t know how much longer he could spend in her presence and still hide everything he felt. “I thought we agreed you’d stop making sex noises in front of Gummi, and at least try to respect his boundaries.” 

She threw a pillow at him in retaliation, which he neatly dodged, but was instantly on her feet as soon as she saw him grab his keys, her face awash with consternation. “Where are you going?”

“The rain’s clearing, and I’ve got something I need to check out,” he told her, thumbing through his phone distractedly.

“You can’t!” The words were out before she could stop herself, her entire body hurtling forward to stop him. Her hand shot out, holding his wrist in vice grip – surprisingly strong for a human. That’s when he realized it was infused with panic – a fight or flight response. Her heart was racing again, but this time it wasn’t from desire. He could practically feel the palpable fear, smell the sharp spike in her adrenaline.

He cocked his head to the side to study her. What’s gotten her into such a tizzy about him leaving? “And why’s that?”

Her panicked eyes flicked to his ribs, where he was staked during their previous bout of Klaus and Stefan’s creepy take on Where’s Waldo meets Hansel and Gretel, only they chose to substitute breadcrumbs with reports of disassembled bodies.

“I’m coming with you!”

“Nope! The Sun’s already set, and by the time I get there, the Smokies are going to be crawling Remus Lupin’s less hygienic cousins. You’d only slow me down.”

When her heart sped up even more, Damon began to seriously entertain the idea of distracting her and sprinkling the cookie in her hand with some of his blood in case she went into cardiac arrest. Still holding his wrist in a death grip, she walked over to the window in the darkened parlor, gracelessly dragging him along. If not for them being rounded in terror, Damon would think that her eyes in this moment – sparkling fields of midnight velvet, reflecting twin golden marbles of the Full Moon – were one of the most breathtaking sights of his life.

And then he realized the real reason for her anxiety. She must be worried about him. Her mopey knight.

So that’s why she’s been so reluctant to let him throw himself into the fray. She needs him to get his brother back. Something told Damon a stake to the heart would have hurt less, but he refused to let her see it, his ever-present smirk on his face yet again.

 And yet, there was something so genuine in the way she looked at him – the way her hand dug into his wrist, like she sincerely cared. Sometimes when he caught her gaze, he could almost swear that she was in lo –

 No, there was no way. That was definitely wishful thinking.

“We…” her voice faltered. “We need to make more cookies – for Jenna, and Jeremy – and Ric!”

“Right.” She’d been doing this more and more – creating some silly excuse to keep him from running into danger, and he was getting increasingly tired of her dancing around her actual reasons. One of these days – someday very soon – he’d make her admit it. He knew she ‘cared,’ as she was fond of telling him, but this felt deeper – more poignant, more real.

“Okay, so that should take another hour or two – tops.”

“And after that –!” Now both of his wrists were in her hands. “I should probably make some for Bonnie and Caroline; and Matt, and Tyler – oh! And we can make an extra batch for the Lockwood Fourth of July Party!”

“Why so much concern over the Lockwoods? Are we trying to infiltrate them by posing as the Werewolf Girls Scout Troop?”

“And – and you have to stay here, and help me bake them,” she continued, her voice stilted. “Because otherwise, I’m going to burn down your house.” She leveled a mock-threatening gaze at him that he found absolutely adorable. “I can’t be trusted around a stove, remember?”

He couldn’t stand to see her so worried, moving to cup her face gingerly, the jocularity in his voice replaced a softness that she'd become unnervingly adept at bringing out. "What's this really about?"

She threw her arms around him, squeezing him tight enough to hurt, as he felt her body shudder against him. After the initial shock receded, he wrapped his arms around her trembling body, soothing the softening cries with gentle strokes on her back, her hair. "Okay there, Randy. I know you want to see me in a wet tee shirt again, but you could just ask," he attempted playfully. She responded with a sob-chuckle and a smack against his back, after which she held him even tighter. His demeanor instantly softened, a curious ache taking place within him - one even more painful than his increasingly breaking heart. The sight of her in so much pain was agonizing to him.  “Don’t worry, Elena. I’ll bring your saintly soulmate back to you in one piece. I’ll polish his halo and everything so that not a strand that Hero Hair is out of place.”

She looked at him strangely – as though through him. There was a resigned, almost penetrating sadness in her gaze. Her lips quirked into a wistful smile that didn’t meet her eyes, until the laugh that she couldn’t stifle softened them with mirth. “I wouldn’t call him ‘saintly.’ But he’s not as bad as he pretends to be, either.”

Stefan? The guy who could give hypocritical church ladies a run for their money in the self-righteousness department, pretending to be bad? Maybe her spiral’s even worse than he thought.

“Look, he’s still the same pompous, annoyingly self-righteous douche we all know and love; and once Klaus stops pulling his perfect little puppet strings, you’ll have your mopey boyfriend back.”

 “Right. Klaus.”

“What you’re feeling now is just temporary,” he said, the softness in his voice cutting into his own heart. “You’ll have your sullen savior back, and everything will be right as rain. Happily ever after. True love conquers all.” He was making himself sick. Damn, he felt pathetic.

 “I –”She stole another quick glance at his lips before her eyes shot back to his. “I’m not sure that’s possible anymore. We can't always get what we want, Damon. Sometimes things ... things make it too late. It would cause too much damage.”

 “Ooh, look at you, all doom and gloom. What happened to all that annoying optimism?”

 “Because being with me might cost him something else that’s important to him, and I’m not about to let him lose that – not when he’s fought for so long to get it back.”

 “The blood lust issues?”

 “Sure,” she said, glancing away, unable to meet his eyes.

“What could possibly be more important than you?” he asked quietly, the question pouring forth from his heart without his knowledge or permission.

The expression on her face was so achingly vulnerable that it nearly broke him. Her hand gingerly touched her necklace again just as her eyes fluttered to his lips. The sound of her racing heartbeat nearly eclipsed that of the one shattering his heart every time she reminded him with that one gesture that it’ll always be Stefan . It was so cacophonous that he barely heard her next words. “Someone who isn’t temporary.”

“Why would you be temporary? Aren’t you two supposed to be written in the stars as the paragons of melodramatic love confessions and dreamy sighs?”

“Damon, I –” Her voice affected a gentle, almost apologetic tone - tough it was obvious to him that something inside her was breaking and every fiber within him wanted to heal it, to make it whole. “We’ve had our fun pretending – and it was nice; it almost made me feel normal – but I can’t forget what I am. I’m the doppelganger. I doubt I’ll survive the year –”

“Don’t you say that!” His response was visceral, immediately, the energy sucked from the room as just the thought of that was enough to utterly pain him. He forced himself to breathe naturally, evenly, letting his hands fall to take hers and press them to his heart. “Takes all the fun out of outsmarting Klaus and the rest of the rest of the emotionally-constipated Shakespearean tragedy of a family. Can’t let them win.”

She didn’t look entirely convinced, but didn’t argue. Instead, she threaded her fingers through his, squeezing them for several whole seconds before speaking. “We’re out of ingredients, if we’re spending the rest of the night baking. Let’s go pick up some more.”

“I can get them faster by myself,” he countered.

“You’d better come right back. No reckless detours.” She nodded, taking a step back. “The cookies await!”

“Relax! There and back. Like a one-vamp ultra-sexy hurricane."

“Mm,” she hummed, scrutinizing him skeptically through narrowed eyes. “Sorry if I don’t take your word for it, and put my own insurance policy in place.”

“Oh, what’s that? More melodramatic entries about Stef's noble attack on the evil ozone layer, one hair product at a time?”

“Okay, well, remember, if you’re not back in fifteen minutes, I’m setting your house on fire.” To punctuate her point, she clasped her hands at waist level, perfectly mimicking the saccharine image of an innocent fairy tale princess.

Uh-huh. Wow. Well, he always suspected she was just as crazy as he was.  A sly grin captured his face, as yet another piece of his heart merrily jumped into her hand, belonging to her forever.

“And just how many batches are we making?”

Her eyes flicked to the now-healed space on his forearm where he once had a werewolf bite, then turned to the window, the soft moonlight illuminating her face in an ethereal glow that squeezed a part of him he thought forgotten before he met her. She met his gaze again, he could plainly see her eyes shining with unshed tears. “As many as it takes.” There was determination in the delicate affection of her voice.

“Okay, Miss Arsonist. I’d better not see a single match near my bourbon when I come back, or anything I make for you from now on is coming out of a box." When a hint of trepidation remained on her face, he felt his own demeanor soften, letting his thumb gently stroke her cheekbone.

"Promise me."

For a second, Damon could almost swear he saw something in the aching vulnerability in her expression, the same longing, the same love that threatened to tear his still-beating undead heart from his chest and place it in her waiting hands - to crush, to squeeze, to do with as she wished. And like an idiot, he would gladly let her, because even pained seconds in her warmth were infinitely better than the coldness of the world without her.

"Fifteen minutes, Elena. I promise."

[whump-imagines]

Mugging

Eddie x reader

WC: 1500 ish

Warnings: mugging

For @whumpcember day 10 "let me help you" and for @hurtcember day 10 touch aversion... nothing like last minute. Ha.

--

You were walking to your car after leaving dinner with a few of your friends when, suddenly, you were yanked into an alley and shoved hard into a brick wall.

Stars danced across your vision from the impact. “What the–?” you asked, confused.

“Give me your phone!” The man in front of you shouted.

You froze, finally realizing what was happening. You started to shake your head and then a fist connected with your face and you cried out in pain.

“Phone! Now!” He shouted again.

Finally, you got your hands to cooperate and you pulled the phone from your back pocket and reached it towards the man. He yanked it from your hand hard enough to throw you off balance.

“Please, just let me go,” you begged.

Another punch landed to your face and then a kick to the side of your knee that knocked you to the ground. You tried to curl into a ball so you could protect your head. Next, your purse was yanked from your shoulder before he kicked you hard a couple times in the side.

You whimpered as you tried to curl further into yourself. You barely even registered the sound of retreating footsteps. Not daring to risk moving, you lay there curled in a ball for several minutes.

Everything hurt. You knew moving was only going to make it worse but you knew you needed help.

Slowly, you managed to push yourself up to a sitting position. Then eventually you managed to get all the way upright. You were dizzy and winded and needed to lean against the wall for support.

With one final, painful, deep breath, you pushed off the wall and started walking. You limped your way to the end of the block and looked around. When you didn't see any people you pushed forward another block, then one more.

When you made it to the next intersection you looked to your left and spotted a fire truck in front of the fire station you had forgotten was there. You sighed in relief and turned in that direction.

About half way down the block, someone came out of a building right in front of you. You froze before you started taking small steps backwards. “Hey, you okay?” the stranger asked.

You only managed a tiny nod as he approached and reached out a hand like he was going to touch you. You backed away faster as you managed to find your voice. “No!”

“Alright, I'm sorry,” he raised the offending hand in surrender and backed away. He got into a car on the curb but didn't start the engine.

You tried to walk as quickly as you could manage away from the stranger and towards the fire station.

When you were about twenty feet away from the truck, a dark haired man rounded the front end and spotted you. Despite knowing that was your intended destination, you couldn't help but to shy away from the man just as you had a moment ago.

He took small steps towards you. “Hi, sweetheart, can you tell me what happened?”

You glanced between the fire truck and the design on his shirt. Finally you decided to answer. “I, um, I was j-just walking,” you gestured back the way you'd come. “Then the alley. A-and he took my phone. Er, I think I should call someone…”

He slowly took a few more steps, closing the distance between you. “My name is Eddie. Can you tell me yours?”

Before you could answer, your knees buckled and you crumpled. Eddie moved quickly, catching you before you could hit the ground.

Even with nowhere to go, you tried to shy away from him.

“Its okay. You're safe,” he assured you. “Let me help you, okay?”

Just then another firefighter rounded the front of the truck. “Eddie, what's taking you so– Oh.”

You whimpered at the closeness of another person. Eddie just squeezed your hand reassuringly.

“Buck, go grab Hen and Chim and have Bobby call Athena, please,” Eddie requested before turning back to you. “What's your name?”

As you gave him your name, he shifted you to the ground so his hands were free. You winced at the sudden shift in position.

“What hurts?” he asked, taking your hand.

A tear slipped from your eye and you hiccuped a painful breath. “Everything.”

“Okay, just try to take some deep breaths for me.” He took a couple slow breaths for you to follow. “That's good. Now, there are about to be a lot more people out here. I know you're scared, but all of them just want to help you. Okay?”

You nodded trying to stay calm. “Okay.”

“And I'll be right here with you, too.”

Next thing you knew, there was three more people beside you and more lingering near the fire truck. You started to panic and everything started to spin.

Eddie squeezed your hand almost painfully. “Breathe, sweetheart. Slow breaths.”

You locked eyes with him and tried as hard as you could to block out everyone else around you as they poked, prodded, and shifted you.

A woman leaned into your line of sight. “I'm going to give you something for the pain. Are you allergic to any meds?”

You start to shake your head but then stop yourself. “Uh, just that dye stuff they use for those scans things.”

“Okay.” She twists a syringe into the IV line you hadn't felt them put in and pressed the plunger. Within seconds your pain eased.

They quickly had you loaded onto a stretcher and pushed you into the ambulance that had been moved closer.

Eddie kept his promise and he stayed by your side all the way into the emergency room. Then there was another round of new people and you panicked again. Eddie was trying to calm you down as you suddenly felt like you were floating before everything went dark.

The last thing you heard was Eddie whispering, “You'll feel better soon.”

The next morning you were picking at a crappy omelette and drinking mediocre, watery orange juice when there was a knock at the door.

The nurses had been coming in after knocking without any acknowledgment on your part so you assumed that would be the case but the door didn't open.

Brows furrowed in confusion, you shouted, “Uh, come in.”

The door cracked open and Eddie poked his head in. “Good morning.”

You smiled. “Oh, Eddie. Hey. I thought you were a nurse.”

He pushed the door open further and joined you in the room. He set a stuffed purple dinosaur on the bed by your hip. “I almost grabbed a bear, but I decided to go with the less traditional option.”

You picked it up and ran your hands over the velvety soft fur. “I love him. Thanks.”

“How're you feeling?” he asked, glancing at the screen beside the bed displaying your vitals.

“Sore, mostly,” you started. “But they've got me on the good pain meds. Otherwise, the broken ribs alone would be unbearable, I imagine. Not to mention the sprained knee, the concussion, the face, and the stitches from the surgery they did to fix my kidney.”

“Ouch. I'm glad the meds help. Do you mind if I hang out for a while?”

“Please do.” You gestured to the chair in the corner. “You can move that closer… if you want.”

He pulled the chair over next to the bed and sat. He took you hand in both of his and squeezed gently like he had the day before. And just like the day before a sense of safety washed over you.

“Thank you for coming to visit me.” You smiled shyly.

“I couldn't leave things the way we did,” he explained. “I needed to know you were okay.”

“I'm getting there.”

“I was also wondering if maybe once you're feeling better you might want to get coffee or dinner or something…”

You nodded overly eagerly, immediately regretting the action when pain shot through your head and you winced.

“Are you okay? Do you need me to get a nurse?”

“No, I'm fine. I just moved my head too quickly.” You rubbed your temples to ease the ache. “But, yes. I'd love to do dinner or coffee. I'd offer to give you my number but I have to get a new phone first.”

“Good. I can't wait,” he pressed a light kiss to your knuckles. “Maybe you should try to get some rest.”

“You have lots of good ideas.” You smiled and shifted to find a comfortable position. You closed your eyes for a second before snapping them open again. “You'll still be here when I wake up, right?”

“I promise.”

[irina-oganer]

Caretaking

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