#wac2020

[purrgilpawkins]

Cold + Outside

Summary: A vacation in the middle of nowhere during Winter turns out to not be as great as the team thought it’d be and now they’re stuck outside trying to stay warm. (Also available on AO3)

Pairings: Wilt Bozer & Jack Dalton & Riley Davis & Angus MacGyver

Part of the Whump Advent Calender 2020 series Prompt: Locked Outside Overnight / Cuddling For Warmth

Warnings: n/a

Notable tags: fluff, huddling for warmth, platonic cuddling

It was one of those few times everyone was given some time off at the same time. Probably because they’d all nearly died during that last op and Matty was feeling guilty about it. So she suggested one of the few not-used-and-will-probably-never-get-used Phoenix safehouses to spend that time off and the team agreed to the change in scenery.

That specific safehouse was a cabin in the middle of an area of wilderness that seemed to be constantly plagued by snowstorms. Three bed, two bath, a kitchen that was connected to the den, a shed out back used mostly to store wood and a little fire pit off to the side. It sounded quite charming. The drive over was spent with the boys arguing about who’d be sharing a bed while Riley played on her phone, knowing that she’d get a room all to herself.

Though none of that mattered, seeing as the cabin was burnt to a crisp.

Of course, the plan then would’ve been to hop back in Mac’s Jeep and head back to civilization. But it was almost out of gas and would likely leave them stranded on the side of the road.

“We don’t need to stop for gas, hoss. Matty said there’d be extra canisters of gasoline at the cabin. We'll be fine,” Mac started in a mocking imitation of Jack’s drawl.

“How the hell was I supposed to know that it’d all be used to burn the damn place to the ground?”

“I’m not saying you knew this would happen. I’m saying you should’ve listened to me when I said we should stop for gas!”

“Hey, guys. How about we shut up and actually figure out what we’re gonna do, huh?” Riley interrupted.

Mac and Jack gave each other the stare down and Mac seemed to lose their staring contest as he sighed, “Sorry. I’m cold and I’m pissed but that’s no reason to take it out on you.”

Jack pulled Mac in for a side hug and ruffled the blond’s hair as best he could with the beanie on the Mac’s head, “S’alright, bud. I know you didn’t mean nothin’ by it. Why don’t you get a fire goin’ while I go and call Matty?”

Jack turned back to the Jeep and Mac walked toward the firepit, “Sounds like a plan.”

Riley turned to Bozer, “Do they ever, like, really fight?”

Bozer shrugged, “Once in a blue moon.”

They made their way over to Mac, helping out when he asked them to get some wood from the shed. Jack came over eventually too, just as Mac had started to get a spark.

“So, good news, bad news,” Jack started.

“What’s the good news?” Bozer asked, rubbing his arms in a poor attempt to get warm.

“Well, good news is Mac’s got a fire goin’ for us,” Jack gestured to the small fire, “Bad news is that we got a couple hours before Matty can send someone out here.”

Everyone groaned.

—

Mac had managed to turn their small campfire into a bonfire. Very easy to do when there’s no need to worry about the cabin catching fire (plus they were using part of the cabin itself to light it).

The team thought it best to dig out all their extra clothing and put it on as well as wrap themselves in the individual blankets that they brought. After settling around the fire, the young people of the group thought it best to crowd around Jack. He provided almost as much warmth as the fire in front of them. Though all of that wasn’t enough for Bozer since he’d made his way, uninvited, to sit between Jack’s legs, back to chest. Jack didn’t seem to mind and just wrapped his arms around him.

They spend their time having casual conversation through their chattering teeth and scarves that cover half their face. At some point Riley decided enough was enough, “Alright, Bozer, you’ve had your turn, I want mine.”

“But it’s so cozy,” Bozer said stubbornly.

“Hey, come on now, Boze. We gotta share,” Jack admonished, unwrapping his arms from the oldest kid.

“Fine,” Bozer removed himself from Jack’s bubble and Riley took his place almost immediately.

“I don’t know why you guys were arguing about sharing beds. If I were you I’d’ve been arguing to have my own personal heater like Jack with me,” Riley said as she snuggled into Jack’s embrace.

“He snores,” Mac and Bozer said simultaneously. Riley nodded in understanding.

“Hey!” Jack sputtered, “I’m not that bad!”

“You are,” everyone said in response.

The conversation continued with Jack complaining here and there at how disrespectful his kids were. At some point, Riley turned to Mac and asked if he wanted a turn. Mac, never one to ask or openly want any kind of physical touch, said no. At that, Jack nudged Riley out of his arms and grabbed Mac by the clothing on his shoulders and forced the youngest closer to him. Mac protested but didn’t put up much of a fight.

Once Mac had gotten comfortable and Jack had wrapped him in arms, Jack said something that caught the young man off guard.

“I’m really proud of you, Mac.”

Mac leaned his head back on Jack’s shoulder to look him in the eye, “You…are? Why? What’d I do?”

Jack looked into Mac’s eyes, a soft look in his own to match the smile on his face. He brought up a hand and gently rested it on the back of Mac’s head.

“For wearing a beanie like a normal person would.”

Riley snorted as Mac placed his open palm on Jack’s face and roughly pushed it away as he stood up to get away from his partner, Bozer cackling all the while. Mac made his way to the other side of the bonfire, back to the driveway of the safehouse, and crossed his arms in a way that could only be described as a pout.

The team continued their laughter before it came to a stop, everyone getting to their feet and Jack pulling his gun from where he tucked in the back of his pants. Mac, confused at the sudden change in atmosphere, turned around to see a car that had driven up behind his Jeep. Jack moved in front of him, gun at the ready for whoever had decided to intrude.

The man who came out of the car did so with his hands up, seemingly unfazed by the gun being pointed at him. “Director Webber sent me. I brought gas for your car,” he’d said and Jack looked to his kids before turning back to the man and lowering his gun (he wasn’t going to put it away, of course).

The man made his way to the back of his car, Jack following with Mac right behind him. The man opened the trunk of his car, Jack watching him the whole time and handed the gas cans to the two agents. “This should be enough to fill your tank. The Director said to head into the nearest town. She booked you all hotel rooms.”

The man got back into his car and left almost as quick as he arrived. The team watched him leave and, after filling the tank, hopped into the Jeep and left the sorry excuse for a cabin in the wind.

On the way to civilized society, Jack’s phone rang and he answered unsurprised to hear their boss. “Hey, Matty. Thanks for getting us outta that jam.” The rest of the team followed up that statement with thanks of their own.

“No problem, guys,” The smile was evident in Matty’s tone, “Just wanted to apologize for sending you off in the middle of nowhere without any kind of shelter. Sorry.”

“Hey, it’s no sweat, Matty. We had fun! Kinda,” Bozer said from the back seat.

“Oh, so I should send you out for wilderness survival more often?” Matty laughed at the chorus of “no”’s that followed. “Well, you all get yourselves warmed up and well-rested. Oh and before I go, the hotel rooms I got for you only had two rooms, one with two queens and one with a king. Bye!” Matty hung up as the boys groaned. Riley smiled from her spot in the back.

[whump-advent-calendar]

🎄WHUMP ADVENT CALENDAR🎄

Sooo, it’s finally time! Now, the little picture thingy above might look confusing at first, but don’t worry, I’ll explain all the prompts right here.

 Also, since there were people who wanted the prompts to be shown early, but also people who wanted them to be a surprise, I decided to compromise - I will add a little something to each prompt when the time comes :D It will be something similar to what I’m going to add to the alternate prompts, which will hopefully be posted later today. 😅

Information about tagging and posting is under the read more :D

.    

1 – Baby it’s cold outside

(1st – 3rd December)

Hypothermia 🎄 Locked outside overnight 🎄 Cuddling for warmth

.    

2 – Kiss by candle light

(4th – 6th December)

Candles 🎄 Burns (either because of the flame or the hot wax) 🎄 Fear of fire

 .   

3 – All the lights and decorations put up in anticipation

(7th – 9th December)

Christmas decorations  🎄 Using them to tie someone up / for torture  🎄 Putting them up together

.    

4 – Break the ice

(10th – 12th December)

Ice and cold water  🎄 Falling through ice  🎄 Ice skating

.    

5 – Isn’t it a little early for this?

(13th - 15th December)

Fireworks  🎄 Explosion  🎄 Working with pyrotechnics gone wrong

.    

 6 – The smell of gingerbread and vanilla

(16th - 18th December)

“I made this for you but I‘m not sure it’s edible.”  🎄  Poisoned  🎄  Baking

 .    

 7- Nightmare before Christmas

(19th - 21st December)

Nightmares and night terrors  🎄 PTSD  🎄 “It’s okay, it was just a dream..”

.     

 8 – Christmas Day

(22nd - 24th December)

Christmas celebrations   🎄 Spending the holidays in captivity  🎄 With found family

 .    

 🎄 🎄 🎄 🎄 🎄 🎄 🎄 🎄 🎄            

Alt 1

🎁 Sick during the holidays 🎁

Alt 2

🎁 Presents 🎁

Alt 3

🎁 Coming together 🎁

🎄 🎄 🎄 🎄 🎄 🎄 🎄 🎄 🎄

Now, some more info and rules😂

You can post whenever you want, just please wait until December :D

Please @ this blog in every post you make for this event, putting #wac2020 in the tags is fine too but this seems more reliable 😅 also if you tag me and I don’t reblog your post in a day, it’s probably because tumblr didn’t let me know you tagged me - in that case dm me, send asks, any way to let me know is fine so don’t hesitate contact me if this happens (I remember how frustrated I was when none of my whumptober posts got reblogged)

Make sure to put trigger warning in the tags if needed

You can use any media you want, and both fandom related and original content is welcome! 😃

The prompts can be combined, posted in different order or even slightly changed - as long as you at least loosely stick to the original one 😃

Alrighty, that should be it.. If you have any more questions, don’t hesitate to send an ask! 😄

Oh oh, and everyone who participates gets a little surprise in the end of December 👀 Have fun and stay safe!

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Fish

For @whump-advent-calendar‘s day 4-6, Burn/Candles

CW: Referenced medical whump and dehumanization, light burn (accidental), captivity, muzzling, drugging reference, reluctant whumper turned caretaker

Introduction | Siren Song | Cries | Here | Not Sure | Draw Blood | Fish | Signs

---

BAHRAM’S NOTES NOTE TO SELF - SAVE IN EXTERNAL HARD DRIVE. DO NOT LET DR. L SEE.

October 22nd, 20XX 3:45 am Mer in Residence: 19 Days

It’s time to admit I’m more or less keeping a diary at this point as I get to understanding him. So far I’ve written separate notes to myself… for ten or so straight days of the nineteen we’ve had him here, and it’s getting harder to write the official transcriptions the way Dr. L wants me to.

Dr. Lachlan insists I call the mer ‘it’, that it’s to help me distance myself emotionally since it’s such a good mimic of humanity, but I don’t think it’s a damn mimic, I think it’s just… human.

I mean, obviously it’s not HUMAN, but�� Miah spelled it out for me, we had an argument about this when he first got here. She gets so angry that he’s getting hurt and you know, I guess I believed Dr. L - mer aren’t my specialty field, I’m a snake man really, I don’t know the first bloody thing about fucking cetaceans. 

Anyway, I said to her at the time, “It’s not human.”

She told me, “Maybe not H-U-M-A-N, but P-E-R-S-O-N,” just like jabbing me in the chest afterward. Also, Miah can fingerspell in a way that really makes you feel like a six year old getting yelled at by your mother, for the record. I can’t describe it any other way. I was ready to just melt away from personal embarrassment before she even finished signing “person.”

That’s not the point of this. 

I didn’t start a diary just to tell myself how right Miah is about all of this, but hey, here we are.

I need some days off so badly.

Miah wasn’t around today, it’s really just been me and the mer - I’m off for four days coming up here, after 20 days of work, and she’s going to come in and do 24-hour watch until I’m back. It’s not so bad - I don’t really know anyone here, and the bed’s comfortable enough. Dr. L’s paying rent on my apartment so I won’t lose it while I’m working, anyway.

I still feel like some low-level henchman, though. Like any moment some asshole in a tank top is going to show up with guns and I’ll just be a faceless evil stepping stone before the boss fight with Dr. L. 

I mean, we all know that Dr. L’s going to be the boss fight, right? Anders would just like lay down or throw Miah in front of himself or something.

No, that’s not fair, he really does love her.

Bahram this is all hypotheticals about a video game. Get back on track, man.

So Miah must have gone shopping or something. She came back with a bag full of these candles from this bookstore she really likes. I mean she came back with an insane amount of books, too, but she had this candle she pulled out and put down on my desk.

She set down the candle - it’s this really nice deep blue and has some kind of like ocean scene painted on the label, like, isn’t that thematic - and smiled at me. “This one reminded me of what we’re doing,” She told me, and her signs were… softer. Her expressions were softer alongside them.

Does that mean… anything? I don’t know. She just put it on my desk and then wandered off. I thanked her but I had to take her shoulder and get her to look at me, first. Maybe her face was a little red.

Maybe not. 

We keep the tank room pretty warm, I’m sort of cold-natured and the mer seems more active when we keep the lights really warm, so… 

I don’t get why she bought me a candle and why she looked away before I could thank her for it. I don’t get it, and I feel like I should, but I don’t. Is she not looking because it wasn’t a big deal, or because it was a big deal, or… what?

I really WOULD sink into the floor if Dr. L or Miah ever saw that I wrote this. Get it together, Bahram. You are not writing a diary about Miah fucking Kirsse. 

It’s been just me and the mer, all day. Dr. L was gone, too, meeting with whoever’s funding this whole thing. She’ll be gone until next week, so there’s no real work getting done, for now. Just blood draws.

She’s showing them its claws she took off. I don’t know why. Honestly, I have such a bad feeling about this, but I needed the cash and nowhere else was hiring for a job that would give me room and board and still time to work on my own research. Not that I’ve done a bit of THAT in a week.

I get too distracted by the mer.

He swims in circles. He stares at nothing, or pokes the plastic coral and ferns we got him, or hides in his cave. I can switch the screens over to watch the camera feed from inside the cave, but he doesn’t do much in there, either. I caught him picking at his scales, and I need to ask Dr. L about that. She took three scales off his tail, which for the record I had nothing to do with (whose record? I’m writing this to myself, and what the fuck does it matter about scales when I’m the one sticking the damn needle in his elbow twice a week), and I caught him sort of whistling sadly and picking at the empty spaces. 

They’ll grow back, Dr. L says. She’s not worried.

I am.

A little.

I’m starting to think Dr. L is lying about a lot of things, and I’m not sure what to do about that. If anything. This is a job, and I get paid better than I’ve ever been paid in my life. So… what do I do?

I could call the hotline and report him. It’s anonymous. 

She’d know I did it.

I don’t know why, but… I don’t want her to know it was me. Cowardice, I guess. Pure bloody cowardice.

But Miah hasn’t emailed the hotline, either. We can’t both be cowards, right?

Anyway.

Tonight was tank cleaning, which is a bloody fucking chore. Anders was around long enough to help me get the mer tranq’d and into the lift and then the rolling tank where he can just sit until I get my work done. Poor thing just lolls around when he’s tranq’d up. Barely blinks. 

Doesn’t stop its fucking crying, though.

We took a lot of blood from him today, too, so he was very weak. Barely moved, just curled himself up small so he was totally in the water and watched me work after Anders left. We’ve got a scrubber machine that does the hard work, I just have to hose some things down and then make sure its filter is still operating correctly. Watch the scrubber. Whole process takes about three hours from start to tank totally refilled, as long as I do it weekly. It’ll take much longer if I let it slide.

Double-checked the camera in the cave, and when I walked out of it I saw the mer’s head was up, watching everything I was doing. He dropped right back down under the water when he saw me looking at him. The muzzle looks so monstrous on him, but more than that, it makes him look like a monster.

Maybe Dr. L doesn’t muzzle him to keep us safe, but to keep me from seeing his expressions while I’m here with him all day.

No, that’s stupid. She doesn’t even think he’s sentient, right?

I finished up, and when I came to roll him back to the lift, I saw he’d popped his head up out of the rolling tank and was looking around the room itself. He hasn’t really looked around at all before this, and he was still tranq’d but maybe I fucked up the dosage? Because he was pretty alert, kind of whistling to himself and giving little chirps and clicks. He sounds like some weird mix of killer whale and fucking otters or something. When he saw me, he flinched back down under the water, but I had this idea.

Dr. L took his claws, and he’s still muzzled except when he’s on the table or when he eats, so like, it’s not like he can hurt me, right?

His eyes had gone to my desk, looking at… I guess all my books and papers and my laptop and everything. Maybe the candle. I waved my hand around until I saw that he was watching me again. With those big eyes it’s hard to tell exactly what he’s looking at, but when I clapped my hands he blinked at me, so I know he can hear it, can see me.

Then - and I swear I’m not lying - he moved himself up out of the water, and put his palms together. His earfins twitched out and back against his scalp, and his white hair dripped water all down his shoulders. 

He cocked his head at me. Then he put his hands together, harder this time. He clapped, and then… he clicked.

I KNEW it. I KNEW clicks were questions. Dr. L said their brains don’t work that way, but I bet they do. Who’s even considered how their brains work? Maybe they’re just like us. All the studying I’ve been doing shows that the scans we’ve done of dead ones are pretty similar in overall size and placement of their center of language. They’ve shown that mer populations have their own dialects if they don’t interact with each other, like the Atlantic transients sound totally different than the Pacific transients, which sound different than the residents that stick close to the coastlines up by Alaska...

Making my own head hurt. I don’t even care about fucking mammals, but I guess I do now. 

“That’s right,” I said when he clapped, not like he can understand but still. I said it, and I clapped again, and he clapped back. “Can you give me your head? I’ll take your muzzle off, yeah? If you don’t bite.”

Dumbest fucking idea ever, but hey. 

I think maybe he knows the word muzzle, because he whistled and shrunk down again, lowering his hands. His ear flaps flattened again. I saw the deep red marks around his neck, from how we have to use the catch-pole to get him out, and I just. I just felt like shit, you know?

I’m shit, that’s what I am, we’re torturing a child, more or less, who hasn’t done a thing to anyone but be by himself because he lost his bloody fucking family. I can’t keep telling myself I’m not the bad guy, you know? 

I’m going to jail if I report him, aren’t I? I helped bring him in, after all. There’s my whole career down the drain.

Is this how it felt when everyone was being shit to monkeys in the 70′s and calling it psychology? Did some of them just go along with it because they thought they had to?

This is not helpful, Bahram.

I sat down at my desk and tried to figure it out. His eyes were on me the whole time. I looked over at Miah’s candle, and looked at the label. Like I said, ocean scene. Fronds and ferns and…

I turned the label to face the mer, and tapped on the image with my finger. “Fish,” I said, feeling dumb as hell. I told myself, it’s a bloody animal, Dr. L would roll around laughing at you for this.

But he came back up out of the water. There was a long moment, and I heard him click, and then a soft, “Sssshhhhhh,” sound came from behind his muzzle. They have lips like ours, although their way of communicating is basically whalesong and relies heavily on underwater acoustics. He’s louder in the tank than out of it, although I guess fear might make him quiet, too.

The recordings I found on youtube they get in the ocean are deafening loud. Their voices travel so well underwater, it’s amazing. People sell fucking CDs with mersong over piano to fall asleep to. 

I poked at the ocean scene on the label again. “Fish,” I said firmly. “Do you want fish?”

He knows fish. 

I KNOW he knows fish because he sat up, held out his right arm, and tapped his elbow with a blunt-edged, broken-off claw before he looked back at me, trembling with fear. He clicked again, twice.

I can’t even tell you how shit I feel, realizing he was asking if I was going to take his blood first. That’s what he meant, it has to be. He poked at the exact spot where he’s bruised up from the needle. 

But it makes sense, right? 

He’s been here twenty days, more or less. Every couple of days, when he’s hungry enough, we bribe him with fish to get the pole on him, take blood or whatever else, and then he eats. 

No, WE don’t take his blood. I take his blood.

He thinks - and he’s fucking thinking, I know he is - that he only eats if we stick a needle in him.

I’m hurting a child.

I’m teaching a child to be hurt.

I’m not religious but this feels like the sort of thing you ask for forgiveness for, doesn’t it? I should call Maman and ask her who I could talk to. I’m going to call Maman or Baba tomorrow.

No I’m not.

What would I tell them I need to speak to someone about?

What if whoever I speak to calls and reports him, and Dr. L knows it was because of me?

I need to stop thinking about this. 

“No, NOT draw blood,” I said, and he whimpered again, held out his arm further, closer to me, tapped his elbow again. I knew he could still hurt me - their strength is prodigious, the first time we got him out of the tank he nearly pulled Dr. L down into the water with him - but I decided it was worth the risk. 

I kept thinking, he’s more scared of me than I am of him, but you know, of course he is. He’s the one with bruises.

I stretched my own arm out and showed it to him. He flinched back a little, and then leaned forward again, sitting in the little rolling tank that’s barely big enough to hold him. His blunt claws touched my arm, delicate as a feather, clicking as he poked at the sleeve of my sweater. 

“No draw blood,” I said. “Just fish. Eat.” I mimed chewing.

He looked at me and clicked twice, cocking his head, then looked at my candle from Miah, pointing at the ocean scene. “Ffff-sshhhh,” he said, muffled. 

“No, that’s a candle, it just has fish painted on it. Candle. Fire. Yes?”

Blank stare. 

Then, repeated, “Ffff-sssshhh.”

I sighed and pulled out my little lighter. I don’t smoke or anything, but I hate the way matches smell, so I have a lighter on me basically all the time. Plus, having lighters was a pretty good way to make friends back in undergrad when I gave a fuck about that. 

I flicked on the lighter, and the mer chirped, curiously. 

Has it never seen fire before?

Why would it, it lives in the ocean. Don’t be a dumbshit, Bahram.

“Fire,” I said, and held it out a little for a closer look. “Fire.” I tilted it and lit the candle, and the mer leaned forward, rapt, as the wick sparked up to flame and I blew the smaller flame on the lighter out. 

“FFfffff,” The mer said, barely audible. It clicked and held out its hand, and I wasn’t fast enough.

“No, wait stop-”

The mer’s fingertips touched the flame and it let out a deafening loud cry of pain and jerked its hand back down into the water, whimpering at the new kind of hurt, looking at me like it was MY fault, and maybe it was. Eyebrows furrowed, little crease in its forehead, big sad eyes. 

The big sad eyes are wrecking me.

“Well, don’t touch fire and you won’t burn,” I said, shaking my head. “No touch fire. Fire bad. Fire burn.”

He held out his hand to show me. “Ffff-rrrrr.” It was a plaintive little breath of air, not quite a real sound. 

The ends of two fingers were a little dark, that’s all. I could explain that by saying he’d hurt himself in the tank, maybe. I shook my head and pointed at the water, and it put its hand back in there, huffing a little breath of relief, I think. The water probably helped with the sting. 

“Right. Fire bad. No fire.”

“Ffff-rrr... buh-ddd.” 

“Right. Fire bad.” I stood up and walked over behind him, and he tried to turn and watch me but I shook my head and pointed back at the candle and he sort of huffed again and looked away. I felt him tense when my fingers touched the back of his head, but he sat still.

Probably because if he struggles when she goes to take the muzzle off or gets her fingers near his mouth, Dr. L has this electricity stick thing… 

I’m not supposed to mention that in the transcripts.

I’m not supposed to mention how he screams, and he doesn’t sound like a whale or an otter, then. He doesn’t sound like an animal.

He sounds like a child.

He IS a child

He’s just

I’m a fucking

No. I need to focus. This is stuff I can’t tell Dr. L, I need to write it down here where it’s safe.

The muzzle is easy to get off, you just need to be looking right at it, and I unbuckled and pulled it free, feeling a little resistance from how well it stuck to his face. Without it on, there are deep red lines along his cheeks and jaw, not open or bleeding, just irritated. 

He didn't grab at me, or bite. Just watched me with his big eyes as I laid it down on my desk. For a second we were both just quiet, looking at each other. 

Then he pointed at the candle again. “Ffff-sssshh.”

“No,” I said. “Candle. Fire.”

The mer’s eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head, echoing what I did earlier. His hair slapped around. His teeth look like shark’s teeth up close, only there’s a lot less of them. “Nnnn-nnnuh,” He tried, shaking his head again.” Nnn-uh. Ffff-sssshhh.” Then he pointed at his mouth, opening wide, showing me the tongue behind his teeth. “Fffff-sssshhh. Ffff-ssshhh.”

I laughed, covering my mouth - he seems to be scared when we show too much teeth, probably in the ocean it’s a threat and they don’t smile like we do. Which, why would they? 

But, see, I realized that he wasn’t pointing at the candle at all, but at the fish painted on it. Then he moved to look at the bucket of fish he gets as a reward for obedience, and pointed at that, then looked back at me to see if I was paying attention.

Of course I was. I was barely fucking breathing. This is signs of abstract thought process, recognizing that the image of a thing isn’t the thing itself. That he can point at it to represent what he wants. “You want fish? Is that it? You’re hungry? Want to eat some fish?”

The mer blinked and made a sound like a chirp, clapped his hands together. “Rrrrr. Fff-sssshhh.” He pointed at his mouth again. “Ffff-ssshhh. Buh-rrrrmm. Ffffsshh.”

“What did you say?” I whispered. My heart went cold. I can’t describe it any other way.

“Buh-rrrrmmmm. Ffff-sssshh, Buh-rrrmm.”

The bloody thing knows my fucking name. 

He knows we have names and he knows mine and that means-... that means he has one, doesn’t it? If he has a name, if he has

I’m his fucking nightmare aren’t I 

I’m the worst fucking thing that could happen to him, me and Miah and Dr. L and Anders and this is a job but it’s the worst thing that’s happened to him and it’s only

It’s going to get worse for him.

He’s going to die here and he’ll know all our names when he does.

Anyway, so... you know... I brought him a bucket of fish.

What else was I supposed to do? 

He knows my name!

He let me put the muzzle on him again without fighting after he finished, and I got him back in the tank once the water was refreshed, and he’s sleeping off his meal now. I can see him on the feed, curled up inside the cave.

But I’m wide awake, so I thought I’d write this, because…

Because what the hell do I do now?

I can’t tell Miah.

Can I?

 ---

@astrobly @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @slaintetowhump @moose-teeth @misspelledwitch @whumpfigure @whumptywhumpdump @boxboysandotherwhump @whumpywhumper

[thatsgonnaleaveamark]

One false step could lead to slipping and falling into the dark, freezing water. Though the lake is mostly covered in thick ice, there is no way to tell where there might be thinner, more fragile parts. Looking at the marks on the ice there might have been some ice skaters around during the day, but at night, the place seems to be abandoned. Which would also mean, that there is no one around to help, in case something happened. Was that the sound of ice cracking?

________ @whump-advent-calendar Prompt 4!

[callaeidae3]

Based on Chapter 11 of The Case of Kindall, K. (KK1) + additional details

I might draw a hurt/comfort part 2 (rescue) after this... ✨

Art/Comic for Prompt 6: The smell of gingerbread and vanilla ("I made this for you but I'm not sure it's edible" | Poisoned | Baking)

@whump-advent-calendar

[redstainedsocks]

Baby It’s Cold Outside Inside

Fill for the @whump-advent-calendar! These are still sort-of chronological for the series, but don’t follow on exactly from where I’m posting with the rest, just other fun (for us, not for them xD) things I imagine happening. Think of them as random snapshots of their time in captivity ;)

Warnings: Hypothermia, cuddling for warmth (creepy style!), forced to strip, forced nudity, ice bath, waterboarding, begging, torture, hurt as punishment, defiant whumpee, conditioned whumpee, pet names, creepy whumper, lady whumper.

“Strip.”

The order is simple enough but it still makes Alex’s mental gears grind to a halt. He knew he wasn’t going to get out of this lightly, but being cornered in the bathroom while Adria has a look of absolute glee on her face, is making his heart beat painfully hard.

“Why? What are you gonna do?”

“Me? Darling boy I’m not going to do anything, you made it quite clear how much you don’t want my touch.”

Which is true. He’s pulled away one too many times, hissed in pain and disgust, flinched, shrugged off her hands… he doesn’t know how Jasper does it, just puts up with the scalding heat of her touch. He eyes the full bathtub, the water cool--no fire beneath to warm it like there usually is. He gulps. He could try to fight this, shove and push and run, but there’s not really anywhere to go and as soon as she catches him it will be worse. He’ll just make it worse. Slowly he lifts the hem of his jumper and pulls his t-shirt off with it.

So far he’s kept a little of his dignity here, some small amount of privacy. He’s changed in the bathroom, and never been naked. They’ve seen his skin injured and bared, but they’ve never seen him stripped bare, not like this.

She watches him like he’s a treat to savour, and he waits to see if she’ll lick her lips like a cat, or bat him around like a mouse between her paws.

He covers himself once he’s naked, and her eyes alight, her smile widens. “In you get.”

He glances at the full tub and grits his teeth. Steels himself. It can’t be that bad, can it? He can do this. He climbs in, wincing at the cool wash of water over toes, ankles, calves, knees. Lowers down into it until he sits with his legs drawn up and his arms wrapped around them.

“Now what?”

She shrugs, cocks her head to the side. He listens too, hears the sound of Jasper tap-tap-tapping in the room next door. The cold room. Several feet lower down, there’s a flight of steps down into the room. The tapping is an ice pick. It’s Jasper chipping away buckets full of ice from the large behemoth blocks that keep the room cold.

Alex shivers just knowing what’s coming.

Jasper comes huffing and puffing into the room, nose and cheeks red, but his body warmed by exertion. “All of it?” he asks, accent thick with worry.

Adria kisses him on the cheek and gestures him passed her, where she stands guard in the doorway. “All of it, pet.”

The ice hits the water in a haphazard series of clunks, clattering down and splashing Alex with the tepid, room temperature water that he’s already sitting in. The ice hits his toes, his shins, and it only takes a few seconds for the first bucketful to lower the temperature. His bare skin feels the shift and he cries out, moving instinctually to get up, get out, not thinking only reacting.

“Do. Not. Get. Out.” Adria’s voice cuts through his clouded senses and he stops halfway out of the water.

Glaring, not willing to back down, he lowers back into the water. Three more buckets of ice follow.

There’s a hand on his head, fingers wrapped into his hair, and it’s holding him under. Ice in his lungs, freezing water squeezing every muscle, constricting his ribs and his stomach, and he can’t draw breath and his eyes sting in the cold. He thrashes, weaker now than before, desperate for air and release and warmth and--

The hand hauls him up and he coughs, bitter cold acid in his throat and he chokes as his teeth chatter. Jasper’s hand loosens, pets shakely at the back of his head. Alex watches with wide eyes, as Jasper looks anywhere but at his face.

“Thank you, pet, that will do.”

“Yes Mistress.”

Jasper is all hollowed out, his eyes empty, and it makes Alex feel even more alone. Jasper just… goes away, and Alex doesn’t know how he does it, but he becomes a vessel and tool for her hurt. He shivers harder, sending little ripples across the surface, as Jasper stands and leaves.

“H-how much longer?” Alex asks, between the clashing of his teeth.

“Until you beg for my warmth and mean it.” Adria crosses her arms and leans against the door frame. Drinking in his suffering. Her red hair and creamy skin look so warm and inviting, but the look on her face is utterly devoid of anything human, any compassion.

Still, he opens his mouth to speak, willing to say the words right now if it gets him out of this. One swift raise of her hand stops him.

“Not until you mean it, or I’ll come over there and boil you alive.” Adria snaps her fingers, and he flinches.

He wonders if he lays very still if he’ll notice the water level rise as the ice begins to melt. He won’t try getting up again, or lifting more of his body above the waterline. Being held under by Jasper over and over was enough to learn that lesson, the threat of her touch turning the ice water to searing steam is enough to make him wait it out, too.

---   ---   ---

His skin has paled, and he’s mesmerized by his palms, so much lighter than usual. His jaw aches, deep into his skull and bringing on a headache the likes of which he’s never known, all from his teeth clattering. Jasper has reloaded the tub twice, and Alex can’t even tell if he’s crying, or if his face is just wet from the rising water, and the way he keeps slipping below the surface.

He hears them talking about someone who will get them more ice, and they can use as much as it takes for him to submit, and he can’t make sense of any of it--except for the idea that he has to do something to put an end to this.

His eyes skim around the room, landing on her face and skittering away again. She won’t let him die, will she? He groans, as more muscles seize and ache, his back arching against the pain. Then he flops back into water and another round of violent shivering. He bites his lip and listens to his own heartbeat thudding in his ears.

“Please, it hurts. H-h-hurts, let-let me out.” he looks to her, cries out, and bites his own tongue as his body clenches. Metallic liquid floods his mouth and his hands fly out to the sides of the tub. His fingertips are ashen grey. “Please, my queen, please.”

She waves one hand, “Continue.”

He can beg now? It's time? The words tumble from his mouth, asking for warmth, begging for touch, agreeing not to pull away again, to be--if not good, at least better. He hopes he isn’t making promises he can’t keep. He probably is, but he’s too far gone to care.

---   ---   ---

Jasper helps him get dry, and into a pair of loose sweatpants, and Alex clings to his warmth. He’s still shaking, and he flinches as Adria approaches. He hopes it doesn’t look like more than a violent tremble.

She has a blanket and pulls him close, folds his arms over his chest and wraps the blanket tightly around him. He is pliant, even as his limbs ache and won’t loosen. The blanket pulls tightly around and around, wrapping between one arm and over the other until he’s swaddled so completely he can barely move his upper body.

“There, now, would you like to sit with me by the fire?”

He nods, even as he tests the hold of the restriction.

“Words, Alex.”

“Please… umm, please take me to the fire. I, I would like to sit with you, near you.”

She smiles, teeth glinting, and leads him to the main cavern where a fire is roaring in the pit and cushions are piled on the seating around it. It takes both Adria and Jasper to keep him on his shaking feet.

She pushes him to the ground, between her knees, and he folds up there caught in the hold of her swaddling--trapped in the room of her making, and the punishment of her choosing. She cards fingers through his damp hair, strokes the sides of his face. He aches, even as the warmth seeps into his bones.

She tells him it’s better when he’s good and he nods, even though he doesn’t believe it. She tells him it’s easy to give in, and he watches Jasper’s face twitch, and then grow distant all over again.

And later, when she slips a burning hand below the folds of the blanket to touch the skin of his shoulder and his neck, she lets him turn his face into the soft swell of her thigh, and scream.

[Taglist: @lonesome--hunter, @whumpthisway, @slaintetowhump @untilthepainstarts @sneeze-queen @muddy-swamp-princess @i-contain-multitud-s @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi]

[endless-whump]

Kefi: All Yours

CW: extremely creepy/questionable “caretaker,” manipulation, Stockholm syndrome, referenced wing whump, conditioning, borderline dehumanization?, intimate whumper

@whump-advent-calendar - Cuddling for warmth <3

Universe belongs to @wildfaewhump <3

--

“You’re cold.”

It was a statement, not a question.  Kefi glanced up at Ronin, then away.  They had been huddled on the couch near the fire, not wanting to disturb Ronin in his study.

“Am..am fine.”  They insisted quietly.  “Wings..feathers used to keep warm.  Harder, now.”

The fae’s wings were folded close to their back, bandages winded around thin joints.  There were feathers, left, but they were few and mangled and painful to try and groom.  Kefi preferred to just keep them wrapped, so they couldn’t see it.  So they didn’t have to think about it.

Ronin stood in the doorway of the small room, observing Kefi quietly.  Curiously, almost.  He closed the distance between them, sitting down on the couch opposite of them.  He leaned back, smiling softly.

“Come on over here, there's no need for you to be all cold and sad like that.”

Kefi barely hesitated before moving over to Ronin, practically curling up in his lap.  He smelled sharply clean, like mint.  Kefi had grown to love the smell.  They trilled quietly in contentment, burrowing deep into the warm embrace as a blanket was pulled over them, cuddling against Ronins chest for comfort.

Ronin wrapped his arms around the fae, hand running gently up the side of their neck.  Kefi felt a flash of discomfort before brushing it off, relaxing back into the touch.  This was ok.

Kefi dozed, warm against the arms wrapped around them, blanket draped heavily over them until only their face was visible.  They were safe here, warm, wanted.  All the things they couldn’t be before.

“All mine,”  Ronin hummed, leaning close to Kefi’s ear.  

All yours, Kefi thought to themself, and they barely knew the weight behind it.

[viva-la-whump]

Whump Advent Calendar 2020

Welp, it took me the the entire month and I have less than 1 hours left, but I did it!!! I wrote all 8 fics for WAC20! Woot!!

Now, instead of posting each and every one on here as I went, I was posting them on AO3 and waited for this moment to post my masterlist!

So here you go! (#. Theme - Title - Fandom)

Baby it’s cold outside - Like Ice - The Untamed

Kiss by candle light - Kissed by Flame - Joy of Life

All the lights and decorations put up in anticipation - Cat and Mouse - The K2

Break the ice - Rescue - Rurouni Kenshin

Isn’t it a little early for this? - Ash and Snow - Detective L

The smell of gingerbread and vanilla - Betrayal - Mr. Sunshine

Nightmare before Christmas - Rude Awakenings - Mad Dog

Christmas Day - That’s What Friends are For - Stranger/Secret Forest

I have more detailed tags in each fic since I don’t have enough space here on tumblr.

Thanks!

@whump-advent-calendar

[nativestarwrites]

2 - By Candle Light

@whump-advent-calendar

(4th – 6th December) Candles 🎄

1-3 December: Baby, It’s Cold Outside

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The hunting cabin was the proverbial oasis in the middle of a very cold, very stormy, dark winter forest.  And for the two fleeing agents, it couldn’t have appeared at a better time.  Currently, the only thing keeping Mac upright was Jack and even Jack was starting to stumble in exhaustion.

The inside of the cabin was small and compact, minimal furniture arranged in an open plan layout. Jack sat Mac down on the edge of a bed and went to see what supplies he could find.  The cupboards were bare for food and nothing came out of the taps when he tried them.  The generator refused to kick in but he managed to find a box of candles and matches and he brought them over to the bed.  Mac had let himself tip over, head on the pillow but leaving his feet still on the floor.  Jack would have been worried he’d passed out except he could see Mac lazily blinking at him in the glow of the flashlight.

“No electricity, but I found candles.”  Jack said, as he lit two, placing them on the bedside unit.

In the flickering light Mac looked even worse, giving him a ghostly pallor.  The only colours on his face from the bruises on his jaw and cheekbone, highlighted by the warm flame.

“You look like shit.”  Jack told him flatly.

“You don’t exactly look pretty yourself.”  Mac shot back, putting a hint of a smile on both of their faces.  Jack took Mac’s feet and deposited them onto the bed for him, before reaching for the zip of his jacket. Mac had taken some pretty serious hits, and those were just the ones that Jack had seen, he knew there was damage hidden under his clothes, he just wasn’t sure how bad it was.

“Lets peel some of these layers off, check you out properly.”

“Why?”  Mac asked, grabbing Jack’s hand with his own, stopping him.

“What do you mean why?”

“It’s not going to help, even if I am bleeding internally, there’s nothing you can do about it out here.  I’m just gonna get cold and you’re just going to worry.”  Mac said, his eyes exhausted and resigned.

Jack sighed, dropping his hands.  Mac had a point, and hopefully, ex-fil would find them before it became an issue but he had to prepare in case they didn’t.  He had to ask, even if he wouldn’t like the answer.

“Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Bleeding inside?”

Jack heard the answer in Mac’s silence and the way his eyes slipped away from Jack’s.  “I’ll be okay,” Mac said instead.  “Just give me a couple of hours to rest, let the storm pass and we can carry on hiking to higher ground, see if we can get that radio signal.”

“They’ll be searching for us already.”  Jack chimed in with his own positivity, “Who knows, they might have found us by then anyway.”

“Hope so,”  Mac whispered.

Jack rummaged around in a closet and found a couple of musty smelling blankets, he shook them out and then covered Mac.  Lying down on the other side of the bed, he pulled the blankets over himself as well and shifted closer, curling up against Mac and adding his own body heat to Mac’s cocoon.  He didn’t want to rest his arm across Mac’s midriff so instead laid his arm over Mac’s, his fingers finding Mac’s wrist and holding on, feeling the thrum of Mac’s pulse under his fingertips.  Faster than it should be, but still relatively steady and strong.

“I’ll be okay.” Mac whispered, on the verge of sleep.

“I know you will.” Jack answered.  “There’s no other option, you got that?”

“Got it.”

Jack had no intention of sleeping himself, afraid he’d sleep too long and through any alarm he’d set.  Instead he laid there, keeping watch and counting heartbeats, only stopping when he heard the faint but familiar sound of a Phoenix ex-fil chopper.

[appy-polly-loggies]

Christmas thing #6 - Memories

Not really the prompt (and I completely skipped one oops) but here you have your weekly dose of backstory 😂

Part #0  Part #1  Part #2  Part #3  Part #4  Part #5

@cupcakes-and-pain

[purrgilpawkins]

Fire + Work

Summary: Mac tries to light some fireworks. Bozer helps clean up the mess. (Also available on AO3)

Pairings: Wilt Bozer & Angus MacGyver

Part of the Whump Advent Calendar 2020 series Prompt: Fireworks / Explosions

Warnings: n/a

Notable tags: fluff, humor, first degree burns, aloe vera usage, best friend banter, caring Bozer, Mac whump

It was a suspiciously quiet night at the MacGyver-Bozer residence.

Mac was out on the deck working on something or another and Bozer was chilling inside, sitting in front of the island texting Leanna in the rare, pleasant silence. He laughed at her most recent text and started typing out something back only to be interrupted by a muffled explosion outside. Bozer looked to the deck and saw smoke and fire filling the windows. Quickly grabbing for the fire extinguisher on the kitchen counter, he ran out the back door and immediately ducked to the ground at the sound of another explosion.

“Mac!” He yelled out, waving a hand in front of his face to try and see better through the smoke, “Mac, you okay?!”

“Yeah!” Mac called from the other side of the deck, “Oh hey, watch out for the fireworks!”

“Thanks for the heads up!” Bozer let out an unmanly screech as another firework went off, littering the wood floor in more sparks and flames. Lucky for them they were only loud enough to cause some ringing in the ears.

Boze looked up from his place on the steps leading out to the deck and examined the battlefield. The smoke seemed to originate from the doohickey Mac was working on over by the end of the railing leading into his room. The thingamajig was currently on fire and didn’t look like it would stop anytime soon. It also didn’t help that a box of fireworks, the same fireworks that were going off, was sitting near the flaming contraption. It was a wonder how they hadn’t all gone off yet.

After looking around the deck a little more to determine the path of least resistance as well as find Mac’s place in all this, Bozer had a plan. That plan involved jumping out from behind the small set of stairs, releasing a battle cry as he does so, and running straight to the burning doodad, pulling the cord from the extinguisher and yelling in panic the whole time he put out the flames. All in all, a good plan, apparently, seeing as it worked.

He doused the fireworks, just in case, and set about putting out some of the smaller sparks as he made his way to Mac. “Hey man,” Bozer coughed, “you good?”

Mac lay flat on his stomach, his head turned toward Bozer, “Yeah, I’m doing pretty great down here.”

Bozer looked to Mac and did a double take at the lack of a back to his shirt, “You sure? Cause it looks like your wardrobe got hit pretty bad.”

“Oh, you mean my shirt? That’s totally fine.”

“Mac,” Bozer said pointedly. He placed the extinguisher on the deck and walked over to Mac, helping him up and leading him to his room while doing his best to not aggravate Mac’s back.

“Boze, the deck--”

“--Can wait while I make sure you still have skin on your back.”

Mac sighed as Bozer helped him into his room and sat Mac down on his bed before turning on the lights.

“Okay,” Bozer started, clapping his hands together and rubbing them, “let’s see the damage.”

Bozer gently placed his hands on Mac’s shoulders and turned him toward the light. The only thing that could be seen was pale skin covered in soot and ash. Bozer hummed.

“Think I’ll live?”

Bozer brought his hand up to scratch at his scruff, “I don’t know, man. I can’t see much of anything back here thanks to all this ash. Maybe I should call Jack down here, just in case.”

Mac reached for his phone that he left on his nightstand before Bozer could even think to grab it. “Please don’t do that. It’s probably a first degree burn at worst.”

“How would you know? You can’t see it. I can’t see it.”

“Yeah but I can feel it and trust me when I say I’ve had worse, Boze.”

Bozer laughed, “Well, I guess if anybody would know about burns it’d be you.”

Mac laughed with him, “Yeah, and I know that some aloe would probably work great right now.”

Bozer pondered for a moment, “Are you sure I shouldn’t call someone who actually knows what they're doing? What if it’s a third-degree burn and you don't feel it ‘cause all your nerves got burned off?”

“Bozer, I’m fine. I promise. If you call Jack all he’ll do is hover and worry and I know you’re already going to do that so no need to raise the old man’s blood pressure.”

“So that means you get to raise my blood pressure?” Bozer scoffed in mock offense. “Whatever. I guess I know who your favorite is,” he fake sniffled and Mac rolled his eyes fondly.

Bozer dropped the act not a moment later and went to help Mac back up. “Look, how about we go clean you off and if it looks that bad, I call Jack. Deal?”

“Deal, now where are you taking me?”

“Uh, the bathroom? Duh.”

They slowly made their way to the bathroom and Bozer deposited Mac on the edge of the tub. He walked to the sink and turned on the faucet, waiting for the water to warm up, as he grabbed the bottle of aloe vera lotion from its place under Mac’s sink.

Deciding that the water was at the appropriate temp, Bozer nabbed a washcloth from the shelf above the toilet and soaked it. He scuttled toward the tub, trying and failing to not drip water all over the floor, before sitting down beside Mac. Bozer then rang out the cloth into the tub (“Why didn’t you do that at the sink?” “Don't question my methods.”) and began wiping down Mac’s back.

Bozer whispered, “Damn, Mac, you’re covered in so much ash, I’m surprised those fireworks didn’t cremate you. Good thinking on my part for wanting to clean you up a little.”

Mac huffed a laugh, wincing slightly at the ministrations before Bozer handed him the mostly clean side of the washcloth.

“Got some on your face, too.”

Mac got to work wiping down his face, surprised at the black trace it was leaving on the cloth, as he heard the snap and splurt of Bozer readying the aloe. “You’re looking good back here, man. Guess we’ll save the old man from another potential heart attack.”

Mac winced again as the cool sensation hit his back and he found himself trying not to lean back into it rather quickly.

“Instant relief, huh?” Bozer questioned.

“Oh, yeah,” Mac sighed.

They sat in silence a moment before Bozer asked, “So what exactly was…all that?”

“Oh, uh, I was trying to make something that would automatically set off the fireworks. Y’know, so we wouldn’t have to keep getting up to light them.”

“Well, I think it works.”

“Yeah, probably should’ve made sure that it was in a state to be tested before I, you know, tested it.”

“Uh, yeah, Mac. Probably should’ve.” Mac smirked at Bozer’s sass.

Just as Mac felt he might fall asleep from Bozer’s almost massage, Bozer took his hands from Mac’s back.

“Alright, think we’re done,” He said, getting up from the tub and heading to the sink to wash his hands.

“You think? Did you not thoroughly slather me up?” Mac quipped, standing up and stretching out his shoulders.

“Oh, I know I slathered you up, thank you. It doesn’t get more slathered up than you do right now.”

Mac held his hands up in defense, “Alright, alright. I’m slathered.”

Bozer then took the hand towel off its hoop to dry his hands and Mac tossed the blackened washcloth in the dirty hamper.

“So,” Bozer started, wrapping the towel back on its hoop, “ready to assess the damages?”

Mac sighed, “Lead the way.” He held out a hand toward the bathroom door and Bozer gave him a determined nod.

They both walked in silence out toward Mac’s room and onto the deck, both sighing dejectedly at the sight of what was left of said deck.

“I say we burn the rest of it down,” Bozer joked. “Would probably be cheaper to buy a new one.”

Mac sheepishly rubbed the back of his head, eyeing the scorch marks and burnt wood covered by the foam of the fire extinguisher. “Yeah, probably. Sorry, Boze.”

“Eh, it's cool. I’m used to it.” Bozer gave Mac a grin and Mac couldn’t help but give him one back. “And hey, it looks like some of the fireworks survived! Could still salvage them for new years! They’d just be a little…foamy.”

“Yeah. Or maybe I could use the leftovers for an actual test at my automatic firework lighter…”

“Angus Jackson MacGyver, don’t you dare.”

[thethistlegirlwrites]

Lights

I had this idea based on a random screenshot of someone’s instagram story a while ago, and when the ‘hanging up decorations’ prompt showed up on the @whump-advent-calendar of COURSE I was going to get to use that.

"Look, kiddo, it's not that I don't think this is gonna be cool. It's just that you are the most accident-prone person I know and I am not lettin' you climb on anything." 

"The Rowan won't let me fall, John." Robin looks...frankly hilarious and adorable, he's got the strings of solar-charged mini lights draped around his neck and looks like those pictures Cody keeps sharing of dogs tangled up in holiday decorations. 

"I'd just feel better if it was me climbing around up there."

John will admit to having his reservations about getting up in the branches of a tree that initially considered him a threat. But the Rowan seems perfectly comfortable with him now, so he's pretty sure he'll be just fine. 

Still, it's quite a shock to get halfway up the ladder and feel branches twine themselves around his waist like some kind of sentient self-directed climbing harness. He swats at the first one without thinking, and the tree swats him back. 

"Hey, stop that." John shakes his head. "I'm on a ladder." 

The Rowan just reaches for him again, twisting branches through and around his belt. John sighs and keeps climbing. 

He's careful to arrange the lights so the charging panels are facing up and toward the most direct sunlight the Rowan gets. He threads the strings of pinecone-shaped lights through the branches. 

"Sorry, they were the most nature-y things we could find," He says when the Rowan runs a questioning leaf over the design. "I know you're not a pine tree." 

The Rowan seems satisfied, and doesn't make any attempt to remove the light strings, which John was a little concerned might happen. He's sure Robin cleared it with the tree somehow before deciding on this plan, but he and the Rowan sometimes do have differing opinions. Like on how often bonfires on the deck are a good group activity. Occasional fire seems to be acceptable, but one time when they had three in a week the Rowan got a little testy. 

Once he's done, he climbs back to the ladder and down. They'll have to wait to admire his handiwork until the sun goes down, but they do have the night off, and they're planning on spending it here. Thus the decorating.

"Oh cool." Robin is staring at the tree, and John realizes that the lights are in fact on. 

He isn't sure how that happened until he sees the way the Rowan has covered up each of the light sensors with a tightly woven cluster of branches and leaves. "Yeah. This is definitely cool." 

Taglist: @nade2308 @cmvorra @bands-space-and-monsters-oh-my @catwingsathena @asloudasalone @anguishmacgyver @flowing-river24 @myhusbandsasemni @floh673 @teddythecat1234 @bkworm4life4 @viawrites-andacts @amarilloskies @teamimprov

If you want to be added to or removed from my taglist for Magic & Silver stuff, just let me know!

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Could we see rubatosis - the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat for Liam my baby 🥺

CW: Hypothermia, captivity, isolation, pet whump, breaking down, brief vague noncon references

@whump-advent-calendar I know I’m a bit late but Day 1-3: Baby, It’s Cold Outside

The bruises don’t hurt nearly as much as his muscles do. Spasms run through Liam where he curls up in the corner, making his body as small as possible, his muscles lock and release, lock and release. It’s a desperate attempt to create warmth where there is none, and Liam knows it, but his body doesn’t. His body won’t give up.

They haven’t brought him food in a while, he doesn’t know how long. Hours. Days. Sometimes someone comes in with a glass of water and he threw the water at the wall at first, or at the guard, or anywhere.

Then they leave, and eventually Liam licks the water off the floor like a dog, too desperate for it to care any longer.

Now, when they bring the water, he drinks it.

It could be weeks, really. It doesn’t matter - the light in the ceiling never changes and he can’t even see where it’s coming from. It’s just... there. There isn’t any time here, there’s only alone and not-alone. And not-alone only happens when the fucking guards here want him.

He bites and kicks and scratches but it never matters, in the end, and he can’t fight as well as he used to any longer. 

It’s so fucking cold.

Liam bites at a torn bit of thumbnail, staring at the door as long as he can, groaning as his body shakes again, full-body shivers wracking him from head to toe. His thumb feels numb, his toes are so cold he can’t feel those anymore either. Goosebumps raise on his bare arms and legs, then go, but the environment that caused them never shifts. He doesn’t know what tells goosebumps to come or go. He swears he can see his breath in front of his face.

The room is so quiet he can hear his own heart.

It beats, steady and stubborn, or racing and skipping so fast he feels it in his throat, like his heart will find its way out of him and hop across the floor, trailing blood as it goes, leaving Liam to freeze while his heart moves on without him.

He lets out a hysterical laugh, almost a giggle, at the mental image. Or maybe he’s really seeing it. Maybe he’s hallucinating, maybe he’s already losing his fucking mind. 

They tell him a nurse is on vacation and when she comes back, he goes on the Drip. He doesn’t know what it is. They say after the Drip, everyone’s a good boy.

Liam’s lip curls back from his teeth, cold air drying the saliva there almost instantly, and he snarls at the door that only opens from the other side. He knows they’re watching him. Sometimes they stand on the other side of the door and laugh at him inside.

There are cameras waiting for him to break, to start begging from mercy from the cold. He’ll die first.

Won’t he?

His heart thumps, forcing blood through frozen limbs, making them ache when they’re not numb. His muscles lock and relax, lock and relax.

They think he’ll give up before he freezes to death. He wants them to be wrong.

God, he’s so fucking cold. 

Liam sets his jaw, narrows his wide blue eyes, and pulls himself even more tightly together, pressing his hands against his stomach for warmth, up under the thin white t-shirt. His shock collar is a tangible weight, a constriction when he swallows. The heavy collar makes his neck feel warmer than everything else.

Is that on purpose, too?

Nothing here is an accident.

He listens to the sound of heels clicking on the floor outside his room and his heart, for a moment, goes still.

Her.

Liam hates the prison guards who hold him down, beat him with the black shock sticks, set off his collar. He hates their hands on his hair and body. He hates them and he claws and kicks and bites, weak as he is now with no food, only water to drink to keep him alive. He hates the guards, and he spits in their faces.

But her...

For her, Liam is silent.

He knows she’s the one he really has to fear here.

The heels pause outside his door. She speaks, a low, cold, indifferent murmur, and Liam strains to hear her, but he can’t understand her words over the thumping volume of his heart, the rush of his blood in his ears. His body’s stubborn need to survive is louder than the monsters outside.

Despite his fear and hate and hurt, Liam wonders, for just a moment, if they won’t take him out in the hall where it’s warmer, if a handler won’t lay a hand on his head or hold him. 

Just for warmth.

Just for something that isn’t being alone in the cold.

The heels start up again, and fade down the hall, the lower, rougher sound of the guard’s boots beside her. Was it Everly? The one who keeps calling himself Liam’s “handler”? 

What if-... what if he called out next time? Would they come in, then? Make him warm, however it happened, just let him be warm for a minute? He could... He can deal with it. 

He can deal with it, if maybe they’d give him a blanket, or some soup, or... something. Anything.

Anything but this.

Liam chokes off an angry sob, shaking his head, putting his hands up into his black curls and hiding his face behind his curled-up knees.

Muscles lock and release, lock and release. He shivers, compulsively, coughing against the cold. 

He doesn’t want them.

He doesn’t want any of them.

But he’s so fucking hungry, and it’s fucking freezing in here, and he wants something other than his own heartbeat for company.

He wants...

He wants the guard to come back and show him how to be warm.

---

Tagging: @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure , @slaintetowhump , @astrobly @newandfiguringitout , @doveotions , @pretty-face-breaker , @boxboysandotherwhump , @oops-its-whump @moose-teeth , @cubeswhump , @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-tr0pes @whumpiary

[thatsgonnaleaveamark]

It’s dark outside and snow is falling softly from the sky. Various types of lights are draped along the windows and walls, painting the room in soft, warm glow. The tree is emitting a slight scent of pine wood which only adds to the cozy atmosphere. If only there wasn’t another set of string lights tied tightly around their hands and feet...

________ and we got another one for @whump-advent-calendar! prompt 3 today :D

[callaeidae3]

"A shame. It won't reach a powerpoint like this. Shall I go get an extension cord so that it will? Then we could give your bunch of friends an early Christmas call."

Maybe something Juun would do if he caught Kyle, and then discovered that the bad guys' supply of rope had run out...

Art for Prompt 3: All the lights and decorations out up in anticipation (Christmas decorations | Using them to tie someone up / for torture | Putting them up together)

@whump-advent-calendar