#it’s dubcon bc Phoenix doesn’t want it

[i-eat-worlds]

Stab O’clock

Phoenix gets stabbed, whump ensues.

Thanks to @snaillamp and @whumpy-daydreams for helping with the medical stuff in this! Aaron and Phoenix belong to @pigeonwhumps

cw: medical whump, dubcon medical care, past medical abuse, graphic depiction of medical procedures (tube thoracostomy), needles, blood, implied current abuse, fear of punishment, wound fingering, immortal whumpee, wishing for death, past death, comfort believe it or not

“Firebird!”

Phoenix rolled away from the voice calling their name, trying to drag themselves deeper into the alleyway. If they were discovered like this, it wouldn’t end well. You couldn’t fight if you could barely breathe.

“Firebird!”

A black, blue, and orange uniformed hero rounded the corner, and Phoenix shrunk back further. Absurdly, they wished they could bleed out and die quicker, so they could heal. Being found like this was sure to end badly. Injured heroes were useless heroes, and useless heroes got punished. The hero called out for them again, moving towards the alley way.

They held their breath, hoping the hero would walk by and ignore them.

They didn’t.

Instead, the hero turned into the alley, dropping to their knees in front of them. He mumbled something into his coms before he looked at them. “Hey Firebird, I’m Exhale, I’m a medic.” He gestured to the patch on his left arm. “I’m here to help you, yeah?”

Medics? Who had sent medics out for them? That was a gross waste of resources. Phoenix shook their head. “ ‘m immortal.”

Talking was hard. Every word stole precious, precious air that was getting harder to take in by the second.

Exhale nodded. “Good to know, thanks for telling me.” He quickly located the wound on their chest and started quickly cutting the fabric away.

“No, ‘m immortal.” Phoenix whispered, pushing his hands away. “You don’ need to do that.”

“Not how that works. Let me help.” Exhale pressed a clear, sticky bandage over their chest. It was clear he wasn’t planning on arguing.

His hands wrapped around them, checking their backside for another wound. “ ‘m sorry,” they wheezed.

“It’s alright.” His hands pulled away. “I need you to lay down. I’ll help, yeah?” Phoenix let him gently set them down on the ground. This moved them out of the shadows, casting streetlight over their upper body.

Their chest still felt heavy and tight, even though the weird bandages he’d put on helped a little bit. It did nothing for the pain, every movement of their rib cage extending the burning ache. In the distance, they could hear sirens. Stupidly, Phoenix wondered if the sirens were for them.

That was silly, though. Why would they need an ambulance? It wasn’t like they were going to die.

“I’m gonna need to decompress your chest,” he said. He was holding something in his gloved hand, but Phoenix couldn’t really see what it was. “It’ll probably hurt, but it’ll also make it easier to breathe.”

They whimpered as Exhale pressed his fingers next to their sternum, only a few inches away from the wound, then slid them across their chest. In the corner of their vision, they saw light glint of of a very long needle.

They didn’t have time to really process what it was until after it was driven through their chest.

Shocked, they gasped, breathing hitching and head popping off the ground. Exhale didn’t seem so surprised, pressing his hand onto their shoulder to keep them from moving too much. “You’re alright, you’re going great.”

It certainly didn’t feel like that.

“The ambulance is on its way, they’re a few minutes out.” For some reason, he was still gently squeezing their shoulder. It wasn’t that they minded, it was just odd.

It was easy to tell that the ambulance was coming, sirens screaming through the night. Phoenix closed their eyes to try and get away from bright flashing lights as it parked. It was so easy to keep them like that.

“Phoenix, can you open your eyes for me?” He shook their shoulder a bit, but when they didn’t respond, he switched to grinding his knuckles into their sternum.

Their eyes popped open, and they raised the arm on their uninjured side to try and push his hand away. “I need you to try and stay awake, for me, yeah?”

The ambulance ride passed in a blur. So much was going on. While Exhale was starting an IV, another paramedic was attaching them to a monitor. An oxygen mask was looped over their face and then they were covered by a blanket. They felt a strange coolth running up their arm, and they realized that they’d been given painkillers.

It was too much, really. All the care and attention would've been better spent on someone who wouldn’t live anyway. The thought of having to pay for this made them nauseous. Hopefully Kai will believe that they tried to say no, because Abbie wouldn’t care.

Phoenix heard the arrival alarm go off as they were rolled into HAL’s medbay. Aaron, along with a cache of other nurses met them by the door. They clumped around the stretcher, and Exhale started rattling off a long list of words and numbers that they didn’t understand at Aaron.

“ ‘m sorry,” they mumbled to them, but he was too busy talking to hear them. “I promise ‘m sorry, sir.”

Nobody responded. Of course they didn’t. They were being annoying, and they needed to shut up.

“Three, two, one, lift!” Somebody called, and they were hoisted off the stretcher and set back down on the table. The movement caused pain to flare in their chest, and they groaned loudly. The assault of hands returned as they were attached to the medbay’s monitor, nurses swarming around them.

“You with me, Phoenix?” Aaron was standing at their head. His face looked weird upside down.

They nodded, feeling the tears starting to build. “Yes, sir.”

“Good, good.” Aaron’s eyes flickered up, watching as their blood pressure cycled. “We’re gonna take an x-ray, okay. Just lie still for us.”

Someone pulled an x-ray machine over the bed, and Aaron backed away. There was an awkward moment of quiet as the machine hummed and wirred, and then everyone briey stared at the radiograph that Phoenix could neither see nor interpret. Aaron rattled o a list of stuff he needed done, and the room descended back into organized chaos.

“I’m gonna need to place a chest tube. You’ve got blood in your chest, so we're going to put a tube in and drain it out so you can breathe better,” he explained as he rubbed cleaning gel on his hands.

Phoenix swallowed nervously, giving up on holding back tears. They could feel the pain of the scalpel slicing through their chest, of cold metal pushing their ribs apart, of hands digging around inside them as they died and resurrected and died again.

“You’re lucky someone is willing to help you at all. You know you don’t deserve it.”

A nurse pulled the blanket all the way to their belly button, revealing the myriad scars that covered their body. Burns, several GSWs, an old wound from a spear, and the long, thick, almost keloid scar from the thoracotomy.

“If you stopped fucking moving I wouldn’t need to paralyze you. It’s not like you need to breathe.”

Their attention was drawn by Aaron’s voice. “Phoenix, I need you to keep breathing for me. In and out, in and out.” He looped a mask around his face, then plunged his arms into the sleeves of a waiting gown. While he spoke, the nurse wiped the skin around their chest and up their arm with a stinky orange solution.

“Please, ‘m sorry, sir,” they gasped. The monitors screeched as their heart rate spiked. “I promise, sir, ‘m sorry for getting hurt.”

Aaron’s eyebrows furrowed. “I’m not mad at you for getting hurt, Phoenix. I’ll never be.” Cold flared in their arms, but they were too scared to recognize it as pain medication. Latex snapped as he donned a pair of sterile gloves.

The squelching of viscera echoed in their brain.

“If you don’t stop screaming I’m going to cut it. I can literally see your aorta. Don’t test me.”

He started to unfold a drape on their chest, looking up at a nurse on the other side of the table. “Can you get Joseph in here? They need more support than I can provide while I’m doing this.”

Phoenix whimpered, tears rolling down freely down their cheeks. They’d known that Aaron’s kindness wouldn’t last forever, that it was too good to be true, but it still hurt. And Joseph as well? Was he going to hold them down while Aaron cut them open? Or would they just slit their throat and be done with it?

“I told you I wasn’t fucking around. You could’ve prevented this if you would’ve just kept still.”

“I‘m sorry, please, I promise, I’m sorry, sir.” They tried again, desperately. “I didn’t mean to get hurt. I know I don’t deserve it, sir. I know. I promise, sir, I know.”

They gasped for air, hand clawing at the tide of the table.

“Can someone gag them please? I don’t want to hear them breathing like that. It’s annoying.”

Joseph appeared in the entryway to the room, quickly crossing on the side away from Aaron. He was wearing his full INSUPA uniform, med patches and all, same second in command stripes as the person in the alley had. Was Joseph Exhale?

It didn’t really matter now. He was going to hurt them anyway.

“Can someone hold them down? They move too much when they resurrect.”

“Hey Phoenix, can you look at me?” He was smiling at them, but he still looked terrifying.

They tore their eyes from the needle in Aaron’s hand to look at him. “That’s good. Eyes on me, eyes on me.”

“Don’t look at me like that. You know it's your own fault.”

Joseph kept talking to them, voice low and calm. “Is it okay if I hold your hand?” They nodded, knowing their answer didn’t really matter anyway.

“We’re gonna take care of you. I know it’s scary.” His hands were calloused and hard, and he gently started to massage the top of their hand with his thumb.

Why hadn’t he killed them yet? What was he waiting for?

“Stop crying. It’s distracting me.”

Aaron touched their chest. Fear exploded in their gut, along with boiling waves of nausea. Even though they knew they’d come back, they didn’t want to die.

“Aaron’s starting the local now.” Joseph said, squeezing their hand a little.

“I don’t care that it hurts. Just keep still.”

The needle punctured their skin, and they did their best to not wiggle away. There was an acidic burn in their chest as the medication took hold.

“I know it burns, but it’s nearly over,” Aaron said, grabbing another syringe. “That’s the first round of local anesthetic in, you’re doing great.”

Joseph smiled at them again, and Phoenix wondered what the point of the medication was. Weren’t anesthetics supposed to make things hurt less? That couldn’t be right.

They were supposed to be dying.

“Pain meds? That would be wasted on you. I don’t think it’d even work.”

Aaron swamped out the syringe for a scalpel, and their eyes went wide with fear. This was how he was going to kill them then.

“Eyes on me, remember?” Joseph’s voice was commanding, and their eyes snapped back to his face.

“I’m sorry sir,” they said, voice filled with fear.

“I didn’t know you were too stupid to follow even simple instructions. Stop. Squirming.”

They prepared themselves for the pain of being sliced open, waiting for the agony to spread along their ribs.

“Tell me if it starts to hurt,” Aaron said. There was a strange pressure on the side of their chest, and the metallic smell of blood filled the air.

It was strange, but it didn’t hurt. It was supposed to hurt.

“It’ll go faster if you don’t cause problems.”

There was an uncomfortable tugging and pulling sensation, and then Aaron’s finger slid inside their chest. They suppressed the urge to cringe away.

“They need more local.” Joseph said, his tone switching from soft to business when he talked to Aaron.

“ ‘m okay,” they insisted. They didn’t need any more superfluous medication wasted on them. It already wasn’t as bad as they’d thought it’d be.

“I wouldn’t have had to do this if you’d just behaved.”

Joseph kept holding their hand as Aaron reached for another syringe. “You’re doing great, keep it up,” he assured them.

The burning sensation returned, and then they were being spread open again. A rush of blood splattered onto the floor, splashing on Aaron’s gown.

“What, are you afraid of a little blood?

He stuck his finger into their chest again, rotating it around inside them. “Any pain, Phoenix?”

“No, sir.” They were crying more now than before.

He snatched the tube off the tray. “Give them another point-two of Eropental.”

“If you complain that it hurts one more time, I’m going to just leave the rest of the shrapnel inside.”

Joseph let go of their hand to administer the medication, and for some reason, Phoenix didn’t like it.

Meanwhile, Aaron was deep in concentration. He carefully threaded the hard, plastic tube into their chest, then quickly connected them up to the strange looking drainage machine and opened up the clamp. “Tube’s in.”

It was quickly filled with blood. “Now all we gotta suture it in place. You’re nearly done, Phoenix.

“It’s kinda useless to stitch them, since they'll heal up anyway.”

This, at least, they were familiar with. Aaron had stitched them up way more times than was justied for any one person.

Joseph was back to holding their hand now. If they’d made it this far, the punishment would probably come later. “You did great, Phoenix.”

They didn’t believe him, but they weren’t going to argue.

“Just catch up after you heal. We don’t have the time to carry you back. You have to pull your own weight.”

Aaron dosed the wound liberally with another round of anesthetic before he covered it with several layers of gauze and tape.

The blood was practically flowing out of them, out of the tube and into the pump. “We’re gonna get you scanned next,” he said as he tore off his blood flecked gown and gloves. “Hopefully your healing is doing a good job of patching it up.”

Joseph squeezed their shoulder. “We gotcha.”

For a brief moment, Phoenix let themselves entertain the thought that they weren’t going to be killed at all. If Aaron was expecting them to heal, then maybe they’d be okay. But the anxiety settled in there chest again.

Now they had to do was survive what Abbie would dole out to them.

Aaron and Joseph had let them off easy.

Abbie wouldn’t.

Taglist: @/pigeonwhumps @rainydaywhump

[the-cryptographer]

1, 3 (this part specifically: "copy paste a line from the first smutty fanfic you wrote"), and 7 if you'd like.

For the Fandom Humiliation Meme~

1. the worst fanfic I’ve ever written/have thought about writing

Ugh!

I think I already talked about writing most of an extremely angsty Fred & George fanfic about them switching identities and then ‘Fred’ dies. And you already know about me writing about the Kaoru siblings raising their child. What more is there to know?

Here’s some more extreme angst I’ve thought about writing, but am unlikely to. There’s this free-to-play rpg-maker horror-lite game called Ib. It’s about a girl - the eponymous Ib, going to an art exhibit, and getting trapped in the world of the paintings, along with a young man called Garry. Then there’s a girl called Mary within the world of the paintings that wants out. Anyhow, Garry becomes immediately protective of Ib and there’s a lot of cute moments that kind of maybe translate easily into a future ship. Except Garry’s also lavender linguistics coded as gay. Anyhow, I thought about writing a post-canon story where both are a little older, and Ib was crushing hardcore and a little terrifyingly on Garry. And he’s kind of, lol, no. You are a child and I don’t like women. But then they’re both kind of bound together by having gone through this horror game experience with one another, and Garry’s relationships with the men in his life are always falling apart because he’s had this really trippy mind-fucky experience he can’t explain to anyone. And eventually he kind of gives in and sleeps with Ib in a moment of weakness because she’s the only one who ‘gets’ what he’s been through. And Ib’s happy about it but he’s kind of miserable and both are in PTSD hell.

It strikes me as kind of problematic, which was maybe kind of the point. But it also sounds maybe a little bit too heavy even for me rn, so~

3. copy paste a line from the first smutty fanfic you wrote

oh god why?

the only smutty thing i’ve posted is this religious guilt, ethereal, one-of-these-people-is-dead, dubcon femslash that’s part of some angsty narrative for this really obscure video game. i actually love this fic but i think i might be the only one

“You’re not going to stop, are you?” Alouette asks.

Prier hikes Alouette’s dress up further.

Alouette sighs again.

“Very well,” Alouette agrees.

She arches her body up against Prier’s. She stretches one long arm around behind Prier, between her legs. Alouette’s finger nails are long, and scratch lightly against Prier’s skin and flesh, as Alouette peels her lips apart and palms the wetness of her sex.

the first smutty thing i actually wrote might be this Draco/Harry thing though. I actually wrote about writing it on this blog before.

So, one of the Drarry tropes I like is in those old fics where Draco somehow ends up in Grimmauld Place, right in the centre of the Order of the Phoenix. And I hate how it’s handled alot, but I love the idea. Because Draco is a racist piece of shit and there’s nothing more tragifunny than him getting stuck with a bunch of people who hate him, or at least hate every single thing he values, whereupon stress-induced craziness can happen [… in] this incredibly hostile environment of hostility, where Draco is super far from any position of power, and Harry and co are acting like self-righteous assholes, and Draco’s acting like his usual racist ‘giving-no-shits’ self but he’s not so secretly terrified… In this environment, Draco takes the opportunity to one-up Harry by dominating him… sexually…

And then that kind of reestablishes some sense of normality for Draco, because Harry’s kind of ashamed that he allowed it and wants more, and it gives Draco something to lord over Harry’s head - a foothold to pretend he’s not everyone else’s bitch in this situation (he is). Of course it all comes crashing down at some point, and also love rears its ugly head, and then Hermione defeats Voldie or something, and Draco walks away with a mansion and lots of Galleons and the classist system is depressingly reestablished.

full post

anyhow. I can’t pick out a line from it because that would involve me reading it and having to choose what to share while my face was on fire. so I’ll just copy-paste the whole thing and, if on the odd chance i decide to write the rest of this fic, i’ll remove the majority of it from this post.also it’s not completely written.also don’t judge me.also if you have any concrit it would be super welcome bc i know nothing about writing smut.

Draco wasn’t sure how he hadn’t realised it before,but Potter was a hair shorter than him, when they stood this close. It was onlya fraction of an inch, but Potter was looking down, averting his eyes, andcombined with his height, and measuring the distance Draco had to stare downwas an entrancing activity.

“If you’re not going to say anything worthwhile, youmay as well put that mouth to use otherwise,” Draco snarls. It’s muggle methodshe uses, kicking at Potter’s knees and pushing down on his shoulders, and anangry look flashes on Potter’s face and he makes a half-hearted attempt atresistance. Potter drops unevenly to one of his knees, his glasses knockedaskew, and grapples wildly with the front of Draco’s robes. It’s as if he weretrying to climb vertically up Draco’s front in the attempt to strangle him,pulling himself up by the lapels of Draco’s robes, twisting them in hisknuckles.

But then, by Potter’s own designs, if Draco has readthe situation correctly, he comes face to face with Draco’s cock, alreadyerect, with pre-come beading at the slit, and then dripping, rolling down theunderside of the shaft.

Potter freezes, and that moment feels like forever.It’s Potter staring through the crooked lenses of his glasses, his mouthclosed, refusing to make eye contact with Draco or turn his face away fromDraco’s crotch, and Draco suddenly has a moment of terrible insecurity.

What if Potter thought he looked funny? What ifPotter thought it was strange how pale it was, with blood colouring it red insplotchy patches? What if he thought it was too curved, or too long, or tooskinny? What if Weasley, or one of the other infernal Gryffindors were largeror more aesthetically pleasing?

And, if the thought of being inadequate compared toa Weasley isn’t the world’s biggest boner killer… Draco almost has to pullaway.

But then Potter, without a word, leans forward everso slightly, his cheek brushing ever so softly against the side of Draco’sprick. His glasses slip off his face the rest of the way and clatter on thefloor, and Draco hisses at the attention.

Potter shifts so both his knees are on the carpet,and then, tentatively, runs his tongue along the underside of his shaft,starting from the very edge of his testicles and moving up all the way to presshis tongue flat against the slit.

And well, that’s more permission than Draco hoped toreceive, so he shoves Potter back the rest of the way against the wall, andlines up his cock to shove back and forth roughly into the waiting mouth.

[…]

They don’t talk about it and Draco doesn’t expectthem to.

7. I already answered this one. But if you missed it my guilty pleasures are OT3s and doujinshi. …I think.