#whump misc

[pyrepostings]

Doing some light research on ways whumpee would be given oxygen in a hospital so as better describe the panic of waking up and not breathing how he's used to, and found something:

"When the oxygen tank empties, there’s no other source of air, meaning you could suffocate in the mask."

Oh hello. Not today, but maybe later.

On an article about intubation:

Love when a whumpee might have to be restrained for its own good <3

Additional details for intubation:

[sabeedraws]

wake up bestie I sketched Xena and Gabrielle for the first time in years!!!!

[pyrepostings]

Drunk girl at the bar: "you know what- what's that thing you put on someone's face to knock them out?"

Me, a whumper: "uh, chloroform?"

Her: "eyy, you know what's up. Watch out, she knows what chloroform is!" *leaves to take a smoke*

Me: *sitting there awkwardly, knowing that if you actually want to knock someone out chloroform is not the way to do it*

[seasaltandcopper]

Summary: Teddy is a former thrall turned vampire hunter. After a decade of chasing her revenge, she gets wind of a group of Hunters keeping an all-too-familiar monster in their custody. Now finally, after ten years waiting, maybe she'll finally get some answers.

And much needed payback.

Pt 2 | Vampire Hunter AU

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Profanity, non-graphic mentions of torture, violence, imprisonment, starvation, dehumanization, 'it' as a pronoun (only used by one character), referenced past captivity and enthrallment

Teddy left Will to watch the truck while she made the journey into the compound alone to pick up the vampire. He seemed to understand, and didn’t argue or ask why. Just turned up the radio, and leaned back the passenger’s seat to nap until she showed back up to drive them home.

The Hunter Teddy had talked with on the phone—Brooks—led her on a meandering path through the repurposed factory. Past living and dining areas where many Hunters gathered in their off hours, and past the armory in the factory’s basement.

Down, again, to a sub basement that reeked of must and rot and worse. Long used to it, Teddy simply studied the layout, mapping her path back out to the surface, a habit ingrained after years of training in a place not that different from this one.

Brooks led them to what looked like an old walk-in industrial kiln, now fit and reinforced to work as a containment cell. The box was covered in locks and seals, both magical and mundane, layered intricately with each other in a masterful weave.

Brooks glanced over his shoulder as he worked to unlock the cage. “So uh, if you don’t mind me asking, why this one?” He shrugged, clearly asking out of boredom or mild curiosity. “We don’t get many transfer requests out here.”

“Got a score to settle with it.”

Teddy didn’t elaborate, but Brooks didn’t push. The man just nodded, clearly accepting that as answer enough. “Fair enough. Still one less leech I gotta keep tabs on.”

The final lock released with a dull clack, and the Hunter trailed a hand over the wards. They shimmered, pulsing a deep crimson before fading again. Reaching for the handle, Brooks paused long enough to glance at Teddy.

“It shouldn’t give you much trouble, long as you keep it restrained. It’s been here long enough it knows how this shit works by now. We’ve mostly been using it for training and educating new recruits. Put up a hell of a fight when we first processed it though.” Brooks shot Teddy a conspiratorial grin. “I mean, damn. Should’ve seen that motherfucker in the first couple weeks. Had the whole crew taking bets on how long it’d take to finally break it.”

Teddy’s face stayed emotionless, though her eyes flicked to meet the Hunter’s. “How long did it take?”

“Four months, one week, and three days is when Nadia officially called it but—” Shrugging, Brooks gave the door handle a firm yank. The heavy metal groaned, a deep metallic wail like a thing in pain, and swung open to reveal a box of pale firebrick. The creature lay chained on the floor inside. “—between you and me, I don’t think it has yet. You can see it in its eyes. The way it looks at you sometimes.” He shook his head. “Nah. Might be too weak to fight, and smart enough to mind its manners, but there’s a spark of something still in there. Don’t give that motherfucker an inch, unless you’re prepared for it to take it.”

Teddy stayed quiet long enough the Hunter just shrugged again and led them into the tiny room. He strolled inside, aiming a heavy kick at the creature lying curled up on the floor. The vampire grunted, chains rattling with the impact.

“Alright leech, up. You got a visitor.”

Slowly, the vampire moved to comply, pushing himself stiffly up and settling into a kneeling position, bound hands resting on his thighs. He didn’t look up or move beyond the subtle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed air Teddy knew for a fact he didn’t need.

Inclining his head, Brooks stepped aside to let Teddy take the floor.

She’d waited for this moment for over ten years. Before she’d even known she was waiting for it, before she’d been able to hope this kind of reversal could be possible for a vampire’s thrall.

Now that she was here, standing in the room with one of her former masters—one of the keystone pillars of Jericho’s coven, his bloody right hand, his former lover, one of only a handful left that had still been unaccounted for, and the only one left alive who could tell her what she wanted to know.

Teddy still couldn’t believe it was real.

This was a victory. Retribution a decade in the making. Closure.

She drew in a breath. Then stepped forward, heavy black boots thudding hollowly on the bricks. The vampire stayed quiet as she approached, kneeling and hunched forward like just keeping himself upright was a monumental effort. He stared at the filthy floor in front of his knees without acknowledging either of the two humans in the room.

If she hadn’t gotten confirmation of his identity beforehand, Teddy wasn’t sure she would’ve recognized him. Naked, emaciated, filthy, muzzled, bound in iron manacles and so covered in marks of abuse it was a challenge to find an untouched patch of skin. Even the color of his hair was impossible to judge from the matted, shoulder length mess it’d become.

Teddy held her breath. Silence followed. The kind of heavy, pressing quiet, like watching lightning flicker on the horizon before hearing the thunder. A static charge to the air.

She let out the breath in a rush, heart hammering in her chest. Desperate. Frantic. Hopeful.

Furious.

“Mal.” His name dropped from her lips like a condemnation, and that got his attention. He slowly lifted his head, meeting her gaze through a tangled curtain of hair with wary confusion. “Today’s your lucky day, bloodsucker. You’re coming home with me.”

AN: So this is apparently the second time I independently had more or less the same idea. Teddy (and Will) end up in a kind of antagonist role with Mal, and the story progresses as a back and forth between both these povs as they navigate this reversal, and all deal with the messy consequences of the choices they've made and the lives they lived.

If you really want to boil it down to basic tropes I suppose it'd be whumper turned whumpee?

I'm pretty happy with the direction this one is going, I am pondering continuing it. The next 'chapter' would be Mal's pov, so probably much heavier on the whump than this one lol.

Edit: added links to header since this is now an official series

[lockwood-fic-recs]

the sum of our shadows

by RainShadow07 on ao3

Rating: M | Category: F/M, M/M, Multi | Relationship: Lockwood/Lucy/George

Adelaide cocked her head. “Julius, my love,” she said. “A moment. Think how much the pair might fetch at our next auction.”

Winkman’s eyes narrowed, considering. “An intriguing thought, my dear. One time special offer, boy,” Winkman said, grinning manically at Lockwood. “Hand over the bone glass, and we won’t kill you.”

Lockwood bit his lip, reaching for Lucy’s hand, and did one of the hardest things he’d ever done in his life.

He lowered his rapier.

[whumpty-dumpty-doo]

[light-me-on-pyre]

@befuddled-calico-whump @emmettverse

Writers who can draw too

Those motherf*ckers

You don't have the faintest idea how lucky you are

You're awesome, keep it up

[secret-bug-pain-blog]

FEBUWHUMP INDEX

Hello! We're trying out a new method of posting this year, after last year's posting revealed some very obvious errors in our methodology. Initial, unbeta'd drafts are posted to Tumblr the day of - AO3 posting is pending proofreading & beta checking, but will be posted once we've wrangled our beta readers into reading our Truly Excessive Amount Of February Fic, as well as done our own proofreading and potential light rewriting. We'll add those links later, but for now, there's just Tumblr.

This year, we pared down a good handful of prompts down to a "snippet and illustration" format to fit them within the month - these have been marked as "truncuated" within this index, and are likely to have more detailed fics when we actually get around to Ao3 posting. We also did not illustrate some of these because we got to having to illustrate them for posting and we didn't want to. As this is a time-limited challenge and our usual strategy for running out of spoons mid-sprint is to take a nap and get back at it later, we do apologise if these are lower-quality than hoped. If all goes well, the full, edited versions will turn out better. If all doesn't go well... well, you'll have a valuable snippet of our Worse First Draft, and if the idea strikes your fancy you're likely to be able to do it in a new and more unique way.

We have more or less finished everything here, but we haven't actually posted some of it - if something isn't linked, check back here at the source post later and we'll probably have it up eventually! For most of these our reasons more or less boil down to a mix of "tagging things sucks" and "we're photosensitive enough that comfortable light for us isn't really bright enough to photograph things well and it's a big pain to set up the right angles", and neither of these factors are likely to improve.

If we don't post a Collection Work before March 5 then someone come yell at us in the inbox. (EDIT: Collection Work's index can be found here!)

KEY

Day of origin - Prompt - Word Count - Fandom - Universe - Summary [Links]

Characters listed mostly by level of importance. POV character marked.

DAY 1 - Helpless - 919 words - Hollow Knight - Unnamed Hornetfic (working title: "hronet out of bugaria") - Hornet, captured and poisoned beyond a hope of escape, is stripped of her cloak and mask. [INITIAL DRAFT (Tumblr)]

Characters: Hornet (POV), ??? (OC)

Contains: Poisoning, manhandling, loss of treasured items, debatably nudity (she doesn't care very much about it), loss of mask (she cares very much about it).

DAY 2 - Solitary Confinement - 341 words - Bug Fables - Canon/Canon Divergence - Hoaxe is still alive. [INITIAL DRAFT (Tumblr)][AO3 (collection)]

Characters: Hoaxe|Wasp King (POV)

Contains: Starvation, dehydration, slow and painful character death, tree angst.

DAY 3 - "Bite down on this" - 4442 words (+598 in omake) - Bug Fables - Unnamed Leipephilene Fic/Bug Fables Canon Crossover - Team Slacker collect a new version of an old informant. [INITIAL DRAFT (Tumblr)]

Characters: Scarlet (POV), Delilah (POV), Stratos, Team Snakemouth but as background characters.

Contains: Manhandling, vampirism, fear of death, rampant paranoia, seedling murder, bartering, and the author's extremely self-indulgent crossover with a fic it has not yet finished.

DAY 4 - Obedience - 2523 words - Hollow Knight/???(Bug Fables) - "Walk In The Backyard" Transmigration - The Hollow Knight fails at its duty. [INITIAL DRAFT (Tumblr)][AO3 (individual work)]

Characters: Hollow Knight|Pure Vessel (POV), Mothiva (not named in text), Zasp (not named in text), mentions of Hornet and The Radiance.

Contains: Heavy injury, mild suicidal idealation, mistaken identity, abandonment, literally kicking a bug while it's down, and the Hollow Knight's unfortunate inability to handle itself without being offered a purpose from an external force.

DAY 5 - Rope Burns - 2579 words - Bug Fables - Selkieverse - A geis or geas (pl. geasa) is an idiosyncratic taboo, whether of obligation or prohibition, similar to being under a vow or curse, yet the observance of which can also bring power and blessings. It is also used to mean specifically a spell prohibiting some action. Geasa are common in Irish and Scottish folklore and mythology, as well as in modern English-language fantasy fiction. [INITIAL DRAFT (Tumblr)][AO3 (Beta read, individual work)]

Characters: Astotheles (POV), Niothibng (OC, not named in text), Butomu (not named in text).

Contains: Feral behavior, magical bindings, mildly graphic description of injury, dehydration, overwork, (the bug equivalent of) prosopagnosia, and being manhandled by strangers with decent intentions.

DAY 6 - "You lied to us" - 1909 words - Bug Fables - Wereweevil Vi - Vi has a nightmare. [INITIAL DRAFT (Tumblr)]

Characters: Vi (POV), Kabbu, Leif (dream), various others (mostly in dream, largely OCs)

Contains: Gore, painful transformation, dream murder, nightmare sequences, accidentally harming friends, a whole lot of verbal abuse,

DAY 7 - Suffering In Silence - 864 words - Hollow Knight - Canon/Canon Divergence - The Vessel has entirely lost count of how many times they've attempted to beat Nightmare King Grimm. They are beginning to grow very, very tired. [INITIAL DRAFT (Tumblr)]

Characters: The Knight, Nightmare King Grimm, brief appearance of Grimmchild, mentions of Dirtmouth residents.

Contains: Metaphysical burn wounds, frustration, The Ritual unfinished, and the general irritation of being stuck wrangling the affairs of gods.

DAY 8 - Lightning Strike - 817 words - Legend Of Zelda - Unnamed AU (Flesh, Bone, Blood, Magic) - "With brutal strength and extreme resilience, this type of Lynel somehow surpasses Silver Lynels in sheer power. It is said they are actually Silver Lynels who mysteriously transformed after being struck by lightning. If you see one, get away as fast as you can." [INITIAL DRAFT (Tumblr)]

Characters: Kasa (POV, OC), Link, Squall (OC), mentions of Lyr (OC)

Contains: Dragons, worldbuilding, the very predictable effects of holding a sword to the heavens during a thunderstorm, and transformation of the self (mild).

DAY 9 - Bees - 250 words (this one in particular has so many clashing versions that we don't want to even try a formal one) - Bug Fables - Canon/Canon Divergence - The problem isn't with the Hive. It's with Vi. [INITIAL POST (Tumblr, truncuated)]

Characters: Vi (POV), misc. bees.

Contains: Terrible self-esteem, deeply questionable familial dynamics, The Hive.

DAY 10 - Killing In Self Defense - 549 words (4125 words and counting) - Bug Fables - Canon/Canon Divergence - Bugarian autumn is cold. This is a fact of life around this part of the world, albeit one that Scarlet has never been terribly fond of, especially when his more favourable hiding places turn out to not keep out the chill. Thankfully for him, campsites are generally open to any traveller caught out in the cold. Unfortunately for him, the category of "any traveller" also includes bugs that he would rather not associate with... [INITIAL POST (Tumblr, truncuated)]

Characters: Scarlet (POV), Sasha (OC), Leif, Vi, Kabbu, Misc. OCs.

Contains: Sexual assault, overstimulation, stereotyping, murder, a not insignificant amount of nonconsensual touching, and the situational energy of having someone who is very much trying to come on to you approach you at the bar in a social situation where you can't explicitly say "no" and have to try to dance around the fact that you aren't interested whilst someone makes increasingly unsubtle come-ons to you in a way where it's increasingly obvious that they see you less as a person and more like a sexy lamp.

DAY 11 - Last Man Standing - 715 words - Bug Fables - Unnamed Forced To Harm A Loved One Verse - He has to protect them. Or they will die. [INITIAL DRAFT (Tumblr)]

Characters: Leif (POV), Kabbu & Vi are mentioned but just out of frame.

Contains: Leif's Request spoilers, altered states of mind, unreliable narrator, significant injury (ignored), feral behavior, and fun facts about biology.

DAY 12 - Semi-Conscious - 270 words (in the same doc as Day 18, which is around 4k words) - Bug Fables - Multi-part (Calia and the Undertaker) - Domesticated forms of parasitic fungus are rare among most kingdoms. Celia's homeland, in this regard, is unique - to her knowledge, there weren't any kingdoms with domesticated cordyceps, save for home. A lack of evidence, of course, doesn't mean a definite no - and the thing that she's found lying by the side of the river certainly isn't a living bug. [INITIAL POST (Tumblr, truncuated)]

Characters: Celia (POV), Leif (POV), Levi, mentions of the rest of TSM, brief Leipephilene

Contains: Poisoning, Leif's Request spoilers, heavy usage of fan canon aka Shit We Just Made Up Because We Thought It Might Be Interesting, cordyceps-related activities.

DAY 13 - "You weren't supposed to get hurt" - 640 words (Too Many) - Bug Fables - Kinabbalism - The newest of Astotheles' Bandits runs into a familiar face our in the field. [INITIAL POST (Tumblr, truncuated)]

Characters: Astotheles (POV), Kina, Maki, a handful of Bandits and Ant guardsbugs in the background

Contains: Family drama, limited information, and dubiously ethical people management.

DAY 14 - Bloody Tiles - 537 words - Bug Fables - Canon/Canon Divergence - Every day that it is in the labs is another day that its siblings come to harm, and it is beginning to grow tired of waiting. [INITIAL DRAFT (Tumblr)]

Characters: Kjdrira|Zommoth (POV), Misc. scientists, misc. zombugs.

Contains: Leif's Request spoilers, unethical experiments, fallout from said unethical experiments, Kjdrira's distinct & growing distaste towards the living, and a certain amount of blood.

DAY 15 - "Who did this to you?" - 422 words (1.5k words) - Bug Fables - Canon/Canon Divergence -  Muze unexpectedly finds herself taking care of an injured drone from an unknown colony. Though he's obviously in no state to answer questions, she doesn't need to be a detective to tell that some of his injuries couldn't have been inflicted by the wilderness alone. [INITIAL POST (Tumblr, truncuated)]

Characters: Monsieur Scarlet (POV), Muze (POV), Grandpa, misc. OCs, mentions of Todd.

Contains: Nonconsensual drugging, unexpected side effects of said nonconsensual drugging, unreliable memory, light interrogation, Scarlet's weird biology, and assumptions of assault where the POV character cannot remember at all if the assumptions accurate or not.

DAY 16 - Came Back Wrong - 974 words - Bug Fables - Canon/Canon Divergence - On some level, Leif knows that he's changed. It's simply easier not to think about it. [INITIAL DRAFT (Tumblr)][AO3 (individual work)]

Characters: Leif (POV), mentions of ensemble.

Contains: Dysphoria, oddities, bodily anomalies, the distinct feeling that something has changed, the lack of desire to be aware of that change, subconscious suppression of impulses that perhaps shouldn't be buried, unreliable narrator, and a surprising lack of Leif's Request spoilers.

DAY 17 - Hostage Situation - 231 words - Bug Fables - Wereweevil Vi - They say they'll let her go when her hive pays for her. She knows all too well that that won't be happening. [TUMBLR] (snip from longer work - no AO3 posting)

Characters: Vi (POV), misc. bandits.

Contains: Captivity, resistance, and a slowly ticking clock.

DAY 18 - Too Weak To Move - WORDS (in same doc as other chapters) - Bug Fables - Multi-part (Celia and the Undertaker) - It's harder to nurse a not-quite-bug back to health than Celia expected. Thankfully, not-quite-living patients are forgiving, when it comes to not dying. [INITIAL POST (Tumblr, truncuated)]

Characters: Celia (POV), Levi (POV), Leif, brief appearances from Zasp

Contains: Leif's Request spoilers, questionable knowledge of medical care, terrible quarantine procedures, attempting to nurse someone back to health on your admittedly-poor memories of A Species Similar To Them.

DAY 19 - "Please don't." - 274 words - Bug Fables - Charmcraft AU - Something is wrong with you. Something has been taken from you. Something has been changed about you. You are in pain, and you, and you, and you. All you want is for it to stop. [INITIAL POST (Tumblr)]

Characters: ????????????????????

Contains: Unreliable narrator, unreliable identity, unreliable mind(s), mild gore.

DAY 20 - Truth Serum - 766 words - Bug Fables - Postcanon/Canon Divergence - Leif wakes up in an unfortunate situation after a night spent in a neighboring kingdom. [INITIAL DRAFT (Tumblr)]

Characters: Leif (POV), Interrogator (OC)

Contains: Nonconsensual drugging, self harm, kidnapping,

DAY 21 - Unresponsive - 173 words (in our short prompts doc) - Bug Fables - Unnamed Bodysharing Verse - Kina's hibernation goes long this year. [INITIAL POST (Tumblr, truncuated)]

Characters: Maki (POV), Kina

Contains: Hibernation, fear of death, Schrodinger's dead sister, and a potentially irrational amount of belief in the idea that Said Sister Is Going To Wake Up Soon.

DAY 22 - "You weren't meant to be there." - WORDS - Bug Fables - Charmcraft AU - Vi's arm was broken in the Snakemouth Den flood. Though she's been trying to act like she's fine, it's obvious that something is wrong - it's hard to hide it when you're struggling to open your fingers, and no amount of insisting she's okay can hide the scent of hemolymph when she moves too energetically, and now, it seems like it's been getting worse. When she starts acting particularly shady, Leif takes notice. When she sneaks out the inn window at night, he follows. [INITIAL POSTING (Tumblr, truncuated)]

Characters: Leif (POV), Vi, Kabbu, ??? (OC)

Contains: Permanent disability, some very heavy discussion on said permanent disability and measures meant to take care of it, internalized ableism, self-surgery, arguments, and taking questionable paths to a more functional arm.

DAY 23 - Presumed Dead - WORDS - Bug Fables - Canon/Canon Divergence - There are, occasionally, some benefits to having a resting heart rate of zero beats per minute. Leif doesn't think this is one of them. [INITIAL POSTING (Tumblr)]

Characters: Leif, Thronja (OC), a handful of miscellanous bugs having a very, very bad time.

Contains: Leif's Request spoilers, body horror, Leif's normal and rational decision making process, and turning your back on the body.

DAY 24 - "I'm doing this because I care about you" - 1266 words/1565 words - Dungeon Meshi - Canon - Falin is dead, eaten by the dragon. Marcille can't let her stay that way. [INITIAL DRAFT (Tumblr)][AO3 (beta read, individual work)]

Characters: Marcille (POV), Falin's Skeleton. Technically, there are other people here, but Marcille isn't paying a whole lot of attention to them.

Contains: Dungeon Meshi spoilers - mainly up to Chapter 28 of the manga, but there are some subtler ones from later. Dark magic, a possibly unhealthy amount of attachment, wound-picking metaphors, fatigue, and bleeding yourself dry for the sake of someone who's already dead.

DAY 25 - Immortality - 3250 words - Bug Fables - Canon/Canon Divergence - ZB-162 reflects on a life lived far too long. [INITIAL DRAFT (Tumblr)]

Characters: ZB-162 (OC, POV), Kjdrira|Zommoth, Misc. other zombugs.

Contains: Leif's Request spoilers, terrible conditions, terrible mental states, death and rebirth of an identity, self-blame, and the world's most mentally ill fungal communication network administrator.

DAY 26 - Last Words - like 2k words - Dungeon Meshi - Chimerachuck AU - Chilchuck is eaten by the dragon. His former teammates sort out his will. [INITIAL DRAFT (Tumblr)]

Characters: Chilchuck (POV), the Red Dragon, the entire rest of the party (minor appearances), Namari (minor POV), Mayjack (minor POV, Packpatty, Fullertom, Chilchuck's Wife (does not have a canon name as far as we know, but we will survive).

Contains: Major character death, Dungeon Meshi spoilers, character being eaten by a dragon, description of injuries from being eaten by a dragon, description of dragon innards (because of the being eaten by a dragon), digestion (done by the dragon), epistolary elements, and a handful of guilt and messy family dynamics that are mostly non-dragon-related.

DAY 27 - Left For Dead - 29 words - Bug Fables - Wereweevil Vi - You don't win friends by betraying them. [TUMBLR] (painting - no AO3 posting)

Characters: Ollie (OC), Misc. Leafbugs

Contains: Blood.

DAY 28 - Human Weapon - ~3k words - Dungeon Meshi - Dungeon Rabbit AU - The spurs on his heels are long and sharp enough to decapitate with a kick. He tries very, very hard not to think about what that might mean. [TUMBLR][AO3 (individual work)]

Characters: Chilchuck (POV), Laios, miscellanous others.

Contains: Nonconsensual body modification, an unorthodox form of body dysphoria, crippling debt, and spoilers for miscellanous worldbuilding bits for Dungeon Meshi.

DAY 29 - Not Allowed To Die - 1466 words - Bug Fables - Fifty-Two Pickup - Piece by piece, Kjdrira puts its eroded disc back together. It will not let the effort be in vain. [INITIAL DRAFT (Tumblr)]

Characters: Kjdrira|Zommoth (POV), Carmina, mentions of misc. zombugs.

Contains: Leif's Request spoilers, Blight magic, questionable methods of surgery, potentially unhealthy attachment issues, and a fungus who is loathe to let go of what they have only just been allowed to know.

[gottawhump]

I am returned home (with a somewhat traumatized cat). So hopefully I can write something.

[wheelercore]

I need nana wheeler to drop so i can post the virginiated parallels essay ive been writing in my head nonstop for 2 months

[light-me-on-pyre]

@doomeddestination Kiv. I can't believe, of all things, Vic has resorted to child labor smh my head

more clones should use their age as an excuse. stop yelling at me im literally two years old

[whump-quotes]

"Ignore every instinct to flee. Remember: you are a monster too."

- Description on a set of gauntlets, Destiny (Video Game)

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

Not to make light of how much your situation must fucking suck, because I have lung problems and be almost literally dying in your place, but that's actually a good prompt idea! So, something either to do with exhaust/exhausted/exhausting or smoke-inhalation/pollution/trouble breathing, can be any one of those words

(it's fine mostly i just have a sore throat now. this also may or may not be related to my ongoing several day headache streak come to think of it. BUT ANYWAY they're done now so it's fine)

(aaah fuck this prompt... fighting so hard not to do a rain world or dishonored thing... there are Too Many good options i'm indecisive. uh hm. ive been toying with the idea of doing a regular non crossover postapoc style au so maybe...? also maybe throw in a rei bc feel like i've been neglecting my failboy in aus, lol.)

You don't go out without a filter. This is one of the most basic facts the people of the aftermath learn. You learn it quickly, or you die. Ingo knows this.

Unfortuantely, he also knows he didn't have much of a choice. His own mask is long gone, a trophy decorating some creature's den most likely, and Rei's already injured and weak, and their last shelter had been compromised. And they were close. So close to their destination—the home Rei was fighting his way back to, a place that promised safety.

He keeps repeating all this to himself, with every forced step, every it can't be far now—but he wonders, too, if he's made a mistake. If there wasn't some other option he overlooked. If he's doomed both of them.

The air reeks of chemical fumes and smoke. The cloth he's pressing over his face is more of a joke than anything useful; his nose and throat feel like something's been raking its claws down them; his eyes are stinging and blurry and now it's getting hard to see anything at all. His thoughtless animal hindbrain begs him to take deeper breaths, to salvage whatever oxygen they can get as fuel, but he fights that because he knows it'll only make everything worse. Occasionally he's overwhelmed by hacking coughs that burn, that force more poisoned air to cycle through. Rei is dead weight against his shoulder, completely reliant on him to keep moving, which is the only reason he is moving.

And then Rei swats his shoulder, weakly trying to get his attention, and points insistently in the direction of something. It might be a door, although he's not sure he would have noticed it, if not for the label tacked up over it in letters that are too blurred to read.

He drags them both towards it, fights it open—gives up on shallow breaths in this home stretch, just focused on getting through—and somehow manages to pull both himself and Rei up the ledge and inside. He's vaguely aware that the shouts and clicking sounds are alarm and suspicion and something that should make him jump and raise his hands in surrender—but, no longer faced with a critical task to complete, his body decides now is an excellent time to shut down. So it does.

[pyrepostings]

You know, considering the length of lists I made of whumpy thoughts stemming from eye appointments and dentist appointments, and mowing the lawn, I really thought my drug test today was going to prompt more, but no.

Like, the needle didn't even hurt for the blood draw. There was no blood pressure cuff. No one was in the single bathroom with me watching as I peed into a cup. Everything went smoothly.

Not to say my other appointments were painful, but like come on. The whumpiest part was scheduling the thing. What am I supposed to do with this.

[light-me-on-pyre]

I've said it before but,

Kevin would use the split attraction model if he had the words (in canon he would just say he's bi). Towards women he's heterosexual aromantic, to men he's grey homosexual homoromantic. Which means he likes girls but can't maintain a romantic relationship and he likes guys but takes awhile to be convinced into their bed. Unless he's the one convincing (John specifically) into his bed which is- a bad idea but for other reasons than for what you might think.

Julian is grey homosexual, I suppose grey homoromantic too.

John's one of those gays that go a good portion of their life believing that Good People Are Straight until he's convinced otherwise

My bard pair are actually straight cis and in committed relationships and I plan to keep it that way for funnies I think. But they're theater kids so that basically makes them queer right?

I think I said Cinder is aroace.

Rynn is a bi woman in a 'straight passing' relationship and never gets mad at people for calling her straight nope never ever.

I haven't put much thought into gender spectrum. I'm sure there would be some Trans or usage of neopronouns- maybe Cinder too? I've always imagined her with a deeper voice. Maybe she's a Trans woman who uses xe/xem

Actually no I lied. The boatman can be a little genderfluid. As a treat. (There was a point where I thought this would be funny because the guy on the water was fluid and now I'm like 'sure why not')

June is coming.

Which means LGBTQIA+ pride is coming!

So whump community! Share your LGBTQIA+ OCs via reblog or reply here! Doesn't matter if they're a whumpee, whumper, Caretaker, etc. Now is your chance to share your LGBTQIA+ little guys and gals and nonbinary pals and more!

[seasaltandcopper]

vampire hunter AU Pt 2

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Summary: Mal is handed over to Teddy by the vampire hunters.

(This one got longer than I expected, and is still mostly set up for the story and dynamics, but it's also chock full of whump, so I feel like I'm splitting the difference.)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Profanity, mentions of torture, blood and gore, violence, manhandling, nonsexual nudity, imprisonment, starvation, dehumanization, ‘it’ as a pronoun (only used by one character)

“Mal.”

One word. One name. It dropped from the hunter’s lips and snagged Mal’s attention like a fishhook through the gut. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard someone say his real name out loud.

Years, probably.

And now it spat from the mouth of this woman, this hunter, like a curse. Like some personal ax she had to grind with him.

Like she knew him.

Stiffly, Mal raised his head enough to get a better look at her. Short. Subtly curvy, but muscular. Dark skin, deep brown eyes, well-kept hair, all leather and denim and piercings with an attitude to match. The ensemble practically screamed, pick a fight with me and see what happens.

Teddy smelled like clean sweat, gun oil, and the intoxicating vibrancy of blood flowing through her veins. Life. Food.

God, he was starving. He was so fucking hungry it hurt. More than hurt. Hurt was a broken arm, a knife digging between his ribs, the burn of a cigarette put out on the arch of his foot—this was closer to losing a piece of his soul. Feeling it shredded and screaming in agony without relief.

Mal swallowed the saliva pooling in his mouth before he choked on it, and tried to ignore the twisting in his gut as the smell of them permeated the cramped space. He held Teddy's gaze, sunken eyes peering out through a mess of filthy hair, but the flash of recognition he hoped for never came. She stayed unfamiliar. A stranger.

But one who obviously thought she knew him.

“Today’s your lucky day, bloodsucker,” she said, eyes flint-hard and sharp enough to cut. “You’re coming home with me.”

What?

Mal blinked. It took longer than it should have for reason to catch up and plunge icy fingers past the fog of exhaustion and pain. He’d expected—well, more of the usual. Another guest looking to blow off some steam, or getting “justice” for someone Mal had likely never laid eyes on in his life.

This wasn’t the first time the hunters had brought in a friend; honestly, the bleak-humored side of Mal was surprised they hadn’t thought to charge admission. Probably could’ve made a nice little profit on the side.

Still, the script stayed the same: they took him out to hurt him, and after they got tired or bored or felt they made their point, someone dragged Mal back to his box. Time passed, alone, in the dark—sometimes hours, sometimes days—before he was fed just enough blood to heal the worst of his wounds.

Then the cycle repeated.

Over and over and over. A horrific, never ending nightmare, but a familiar one.

Leaving with another human—no, a hunter, who knew his name, how did she know his name, who was she?—smashed every established pattern to pieces. Unease tangled like thorny brambles inside his rib cage, clawed at the back of his throat.

Mal couldn’t ask what the hell she meant; he couldn’t even open his mouth, muzzled like this. Cautiously, he glanced towards Brooks, hoping for some kind of clarification.

The hunter chuckled. Hooked his thumbs in his belt loops, and leaned back against the wall, smug as could be. The nasty glint in his eyes sent a cold tremor down Mal’s spine; he dropped his gaze back to his lap.

Brooks was one of the ones who’d taken a personal liking to Mal, early on. Back when they’d been uncommonly cruel in their attempts to wear him down, testing the limits of their creativity with techniques that still left Mal nauseous to think about.

If Mal’s heart had been capable of more than sluggish, off tempo beats, it would’ve raced.

“You got your own restraints for transport, or should I write up a slip for loaner gear?”

Reaching behind to unclip something from her belt, Teddy flashed a standard issue set of cuffs and a muzzle, then tossed it to him. “Here.”

Brooks snagged the gear out of the air. Stepped away from the wall with a sigh. Tensing, Mal pulled in a shallow breath through his nose, and watched Brooks out of the corner of his eye. The man’s black-polished boots crunched on the grit strewn floor.

The woman made a noise at the back of her throat. Derisive. “And hose him down or something before you bring him out. Smells like someone left roadkill in a hot van.”

Brooks snorted. A half-beat later, the toe of his shiny, black-polished boot slammed into Mal’s hip. It tore a pained exhale from him as he lurched to the side, the clatter of metal singing against brick. Catching himself on his forearm, Mal winced at the stripe of skin he lost for his trouble. Blood welled up in dark beads, staining the pale firebrick with more of the same.

Dead blood.

It wouldn’t satisfy like fresh, human blood would. It didn’t smell like anything at all. But the sight of it still tied Mal’s insides in knots as the instinct to feed spiked in response.

All his body understood was that it was starving, and that looked like blood, even if logic knew it was only a trick.

“Look, I don’t give a shit about the transfer order. Whatever. You want the vamp, you can have it. But we’re not runnin’ a grooming service. You want the thing washed and styled, do it on your own damn time.” Eyes still on the other hunter, Brooks tangled a gloved fist in Mal’s hair and hauled him upright. “Alright, shitsucker, let’s go. Up.”

Scrambling to get his legs under himself before Brooks left him with a bald patch, Mal twisted and choked on the words trapped in his throat. The sudden shift in gravity left his head spinning, limbs somehow both too stiff, and too wobbly to fully bear his weight.

Legs shaking, Mal planted his feet as best he could, but stayed on his feet. Barely. 

Just do it. Hurry up and get it over with, I can’t—

Brooks came to the same conclusion a second later. He hissed an irritated sigh, and released his grip on Mal's hair. Unsupported, Mal sagged on his feet, brows pinched in a pained grimace.

“Lazy motherfucker,” Brooks muttered. “Told you. Give ‘em an inch…”

Yeah, and I'd tear your throat out, you fucking bastard.

Strong fingers dug into Mal’s arm as Brooks worked to unlock the manacles. Heavy iron clattered to the bricks. Then again, as Brooks stooped and did the same for Mal’s ankles.

Without the added weight, Mal felt marginally steadier on his feet. And uncomfortably naked.

Gingerly, he ghosted bony fingers over the red, raw patches of skin circling his wrists. Black humor bubbled in Mal’s chest, and he swallowed back a laugh. Now he felt naked—without the extra pounds of iron weighing him down—but not because he hadn’t worn clothes in years.

On his list of priorities, Mal's desire for pants had dropped depressingly low over the years.

At least when Brooks cuffed him again, arms behind this time, he left Mal’s ankles unshackled. The muzzle went last, and a part of Mal hated himself for the way he tilted his head without prompting, obediently offering Brooks better access to the buckles; the rest of him didn’t give a shit, as long as it got the fucking thing off faster.

Brooks tugged it, giving the muzzle a disgusted look as no small amount of crusted gunk and scabbed tissue pulled free too. Mal barely noticed. After days suffocating in the thing, he was just glad to have it off.

He sighed. Worked his jaw, and held back a groan as sore muscles twinged all the way down his neck. Dried bits of filth Mal definitely did not want to identify crumbled loose with the movement. More of it itched under his nose and around his mouth, but the worst still matted the scruffy mess of facial hair stubbornly clinging to his jaw.

Even when they deigned to leave the muzzle off, there was only so much grooming he could do without access to water or rags or full use of his hands.

At some point Mal just gave up trying.

Gloved fingers snagged his chin, pulling Mal from his thoughts. He flinched. Not enough to pull loose—even reacting blindly Mal was smarter than that—but enough to earn an amused snort.

“Maybe it could use a hose down,” Brooks muttered. He ghosted a leather-clad thumb over Mal’s chin, squinting. “Ehh.” Then shrugged, wiped his finger clean on Mal’s shoulder, and lifted the replacement muzzle to fit in place.

Mal shivered as worn leather kissed his skin again. It sat overlapping some of the bleeding lines chafed by the old one, bright stinging pain sinking into a deeper, throbbing burn as Brooks cinched the straps tight.

At least this one was purely to prevent accidental bites—just a simple, boxy wire guard and leather straps—not like the ones Mal was used to, meant to completely immobilize the jaw.

He could still open his mouth. Take a real, full breath. Run his tongue over the outside of his teeth, or lick his lips. Talk.

This was fine. Mal could deal with this. This was—better.

After double checking his handiwork, Brooks laid a heavy palm on the back of Mal’s neck. He tensed, visceral disgust tingling down his back and making his skin crawl. Touch didn’t carry many pleasant connotations these days, but being touched by Brooks left Mal feeling genuinely sick.

The hunter squeezed once, pinching with his index finger and thumb. A warning.

“Let’s go,” Brooks ordered. “Move.”

Gentle pressure turned to a vice grip, and Mal hissed. His entire body was an ugly patchwork of marks—welts, burns, the scabbed over remnants of a recent caning, bruises layered on bruises; and his neck was no exception.

Brooks’ fingers molded themselves to older blue-green imprints, pressing hard. A sharp boot-tap to the knobby part of Mal’s ankle followed, and he cringed at the pathetic, wounded-animal sound that rose in his throat. Lurching forward, he struggled to stay on his feet and limp along at Brooks’ pace.

“I’m—trying,” Mal rasped, frustrated. He tripped again on the lip of the kiln. Would’ve fallen if Brooks hadn’t literally had him by the scruff. Shit.

The world pitched. Dark spots burst across Mal’s vision.

“Quiet.”

Fuck you.

Teddy followed silently, a dark smudge in the corner of Mal’s vision as Brooks manhandled him out of the room. Up one flight of concrete stairs. And another. Past the living quarters, and then into a part of the compound Mal only remembered seeing once: a pair of heavy steel doors that led outside.

Out, to the wide, open world and a night sky Mal hadn’t laid eyes on in years. He didn’t notice he was shaking until they stopped. Blinking rapidly, his vision strobed. He felt light, fuzzed at the edges, like he was about to pass out.

The pressure vanished from the back of his neck. Replacing it, a hand curled around his upper arm. Skin to bare skin. Warm skin, and slender, strong fingers. Though Teddy's hands were smaller than Brooks’, one of them still managed to encircle the entire circumference of Mal’s bicep.

There just wasn’t anything there anymore.

Side by side, Mal figured he stood a good five or six inches taller than her, but she probably weighed more. She sure as hell could’ve picked him up if she felt inclined.

“I got it from here,” she said, to Brooks.

A nod. “Sure. An’ listen, you change your mind, you can always drop it back off. Teddy, right? No questions asked.”

“Mm.”

“Yeah, alright,” Brooks said. “You got my number if you need anything—” A pointed pause. “Y’know, anything—handlin’ advice, someone to share a drink with…”

Grimacing, Teddy shot Brooks a look that would’ve vaporized a weaker man on the spot. “Yeah,” she drawled. “I got it.”

Raising his hands in mock surrender, Brooks took the hint. “Alright, alright, Jesus.”

Eyes the color of dark amber settled on Mal’s face, and this time he visibly grimaced at the attention. Swallowing hard, he tried unsuccessfully to push back against rising anxiety as Teddy addressed him directly.

“You try anything and I’ll break both your legs, and drag you the rest of the way to the truck by your hair. Got it?” He nodded.

Yeah. Mal got it. And his tentative hopes for ending up somewhere even marginally better than here dwindled by the second.

Warm, sweet smelling night air folded around them as they stepped outside. Grumbling to himself, Brooks turned and vanished into the compound without a word, not even sparing a glance back.

He’d probably agonized more over tossing out an old pair of boots. Or getting shot down by a cute hunter.

With a sharp bang, the doors pulled closed behind them. Sighing, Teddy tightened her grip. Something Mal couldn’t identify flickered across her face. Disgust? Anger? Whatever it was, Mal blinked and it was gone.

“C’mon. I wanna beat the sunrise home.”

AN: Annnnnd we're about to start really getting into the meat of it. I actually planned for more to happen in this chapter and had to shove that in the next one, and this still ended up 3x longer

Next chapter we get to meet Will, the other half of the hunter duo

Taglist: @whumpsday @writereleaserepeat @thecyrulik @lookbluesoup