#whumpuary day 18

[fletcherwilbury]

@whumpuary Day 18: Alt Prompt 5: Headache

Warning for Overworking, exhaustion, pain, medication, past physical abuse, illness, fever

[serickswrites]

Make It Stop

Warnings: captivity, restraints, torture, cruel whumper

Whumper had thought that kidnapping Whumpee would be easy. It was. Whumpee was easily caught and subdued, thrown into the back of a car and driven away.

Whumper had thought that restraining Whumpee would be easy and helpful. It was. They had bound Whumpee's wrists and ankles while Whumpee had been passed out in the back of their car.

Whumper had thought that torturing Whumpee would be joy-filled. It was. Watching Whumpee cower in fear and flinch at their every move made Whumper so joyful.

Whumper had thought that Whumpee would be quiet and become quieter. They weren't. Whumpee whimpered and moaned throughout their time in captivity. And after a few days, they had taken to screeching every time Whumper came anywhere near them.

Whumper had tired of the sound. Their ears hurt and they had a headache. Torturing Whumpee was no longer as joy-filled. "MAKE IT STOP!" They roared as they grabbed Whumpee by the hair and pulled. "JUST SHUT UP!"

But Whumper's words had no effect on Whumpee. Whumpee continued to screech, the volume of their cry growing ever louder. And Whumper was at a loss of what to do.

[whumpuary]

Welcome to Whumpuary 2024!

Whumpuary is a whump themed mixed-media creation event/challenge taking place in January.

This year the prompts came together through a community submission form and then a poll, where I picked the 53 most voted prompts! There are 15 numbers with 3 prompts each, plus 8 alt prompts. The dates are just meant to be a general guideline for those who want/need some structure in a challenge (e.g post every other day), but you don't actually have to create/post on those dates. You can combine prompts any way you want or just pick one of each number, do every single one or even all of them combined into one big creation (or just use one single prompt. That's already an achievement!) If you don't like any prompts of a number you can also replace or combine them with an alt prompt. The main or alt prompts don't have to be done in order.

Go here for more information, rules and the tagging system Go here for FAQs

The inbox is open for any questions!

Text version of all the prompts is under the cut

Whumpuary 2024 Main Prompts 1. (Jan 01-02) Captivity / Snow / Secret Revealed 2. (Jan 03-04) "Get away from me" / Collapse / Choking 3. (Jan 05-06) Used as bait / Stumbling / "This is gonna hurt" 4. (Jan 07-08) "Help me" / Lightheaded / Kneeling 5. (Jan 09-10) Can't move / "Stay. Please" / Kidnapped 6. (Jan 11-12) Exhaustion / Blindfolded / Old Injuries 7. (Jan 13-14) "I didn't know where else to go" / Bruises / Drugged 8. (Jan 15-16) Muffled Screams / Hostage / "You look awful" 9. (Jan 17-18) "Make it stop" / Restraints / Hair Grabbing 10. (Jan 19-20) Desperation / Gunpoint / Can't stay awake 11. (Jan 21-22) Blood / "Just get is over with" / Memories 12. (Jan 23-24) "You're awake" / Rescue / Unfair Fight 13. (Jan 25-26) Left to die / Barely Conscious / "I'm Fine" 14. (Jan 27-28) Flinching / Breakdown / Sleep Deprivation 15. (Jan 29-31) You're safe / Aftermath / Touch starved

Alt Prompts 1. Stabbed 2. "Let me see" 3. Recapture 4. Forced to watch 5. Headache 6. Gagged 7. "Do you trust me?" 8. Blood Loss

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Whumpuary Day 17-18

Prompt: Headache (alt)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None

You had not been home long when Daryl came shuffling through the door. He had gone on a run, leaving at the ass-crack of dawn but they were back by early afternoon with two boxes of medical supplies as fruits of their labor. Then he had been helping to move the solar panels and work on the battery hookup with Eugene. You were certain he was thrilled about that. 

You knew he hadn’t stopped; hadn’t told anyone he needed a break. It’s just who he was. Help until the job was done. It was a given that he’d be exhausted. You’d let him relax, maybe shower, while you made a quick dinner. 

Except… he stumbled after closing the door, the tips of the fingers on his left hand pressed against his temple. He didn’t so much as wave before depositing himself face first onto the couch, long legs hanging over the edge of the cushions. If it wasn’t so out of character for him, you’d find it comical. 

“Uh, hi.” You leaned into the room before actually entering. “Rough day?” There was a muffled mhm. “Hungry?” Another muted answer, but this one was mm-mm. God, you wanted to laugh, but that would need to wait until you found out a little more about why your boyfriend came home and immediately attempted to suffocate himself on the living room furniture. 

You knelt slowly, rubbing your hand over the warm leather on his back. You were pretty sure the next noise was a sigh. 

“Are you okay?” You ventured, probing a little more while leaving space in between questions so as not to irritate the archer. You thought he might have said super and was a bit dry, but it was hard to tell with the thick fabric pressed against his face. 

You shifted to properly sit on the floor, moving your hand in random patterns over his back. Maybe if you were patient, he would decide air was a good thing and sit up to enjoy it. You didn’t have anywhere else to be. It took about five minutes for him to very slowly roll his head toward you, expression drawn and eyes squinted. Uh oh. Your Dixon sense was tingling. 

“What’s wrong?”

He visibly attempted a scowl but gave up after only a brief effort. “Head.”

Oh, the jokes you could make. Not the time, Y/N. 

“Headache.” It wasn’t a question. It was blatantly obvious after he’d given you a clue. Judging from his flushed skin and the tension nearly vibrating over his form, it was a bad one. “Okay, just a second.” Daryl didn’t normally get headaches, so you were unsure how to treat one in a man that never complained and despised feeling weak or vulnerable. As you pulled the shades and closed the curtains, you glanced back at him. 

Weak was a fitting word. If a herd plowed through right now, he’d probably thank them when they started to eat him. 

With the room sufficiently darkened, you crouched in front of him, brushing his hair away from his eyes with a barely there swipe of your fingertips. “I’m going to go get a few things for you. Just relax here until I get back.”

“S’okay.” He mumbled, his arm falling away from where it had been tucked at his side. He let his hand hit the floor with little care. “Don’ need ta go outta yer way. M’good.”

A tilt of your head and tender smile should have been enough of a response, but just in case it wasn’t. “You know better than that. Sit tight.” You backed away from him in case he was about to offer any other objections but he surrendered and turned his hand with a thumbs up. 

You made a list in your head as you shuffled around the house. Pain killers. Tylenol would be okay but you were hoping for one of the stronger ones he’d been given when he’d broken his ribs. He was just as stubborn then so there were probably at least a couple left. 

While on your search, you were passing by other things you needed. Washcloths. The small basin that you reserved for cleaning him up when he came home bloody. And eureka! Pills! 

You contemplated getting him some comfortable clothes but the less he moved right then, the better. As an afterthought, you toed off your boots, quieting your steps significantly when you descended the stairs. If he noticed you bypassing him to disappear into the kitchen, he didn’t voice it. He’d need a glass of water to take the pills though you were certain he wasn’t beyond swallowing them dry. You filled the basin with cool water as well and strategically balanced your burden while padding back into the living room. 

Placing the items on the end table, you leaned down to press the most gentle kiss to the crown of his head. His eyes were closed but you were almost certain he wasn’t asleep.

“Okay, I’m gonna need you to move around for just a minute and then you can stay still as long as you want. Deal?” 

“Don’ wanna.” He groaned, reminding you very much of a grumpy toddler. Your hands drifted to his shoulders, pulling up as gingerly as you could to motivate him. 

“Come on.” His eyes were squeezed shut, jaw clenched against the throbbing in his skull. Those things were counterproductive when dealing with a headache but if you could get him to take the pills and lie down more comfortably, maybe he’d relax a little. “I got the leftover strong ones so this should start helping pretty quickly.”

“Okay.” He was so quiet and looked so small at that moment. You wanted to wrap him up and hold onto him forever. He held out his palm and you handed over the medication, barely getting the glass in front of him in time for him to swallow with the water. 

“Okay, now you get pampered.” You crawled to the far end of the couch next to your supplies and sat, patting your thighs. “Your pillow awaits, handsome.” You were barely able to stifle the giggle when he rolled his eyes before promptly pressing his palm against his forehead with a drawn out whine of ow. 

He stayed silent while stretching out on his back, his head resting on your lap. You smiled down at him while one hand dipped cloth into the water and squeezed out the excess. 

“You don’t have to do anything. I’ve got you.” You were gentle and careful when lifting his head slightly to place the cool cloth over the back of his neck. He winced at the movement regardless, making you frown. “I’m sorry.”

“S’okay.” He murmured, but you still felt a pang of guilt. 

The second cloth now wrung out, you folded it and placed it over his eyes. When he melted deeper into the couch with a sigh, you grinned triumphantly. That part out of the way, you pressed two fingers, gently but firmly, against each of his temples and began massaging the area. You could feel the pulsing there, so too much would not be beneficial. You began to alternate between that and carefully scratching your fingernails over his scalp to stimulate blood flow. 

After no more than five minutes, before you even needed to rewet the cloths, he was softly snoring on your lap. Still, you continued, determined to make sure the headache was gone before stopping. 

An hour later, you had removed the cloths and stopped massaging. Your fingers carded idly through his hair as he slept. He had turned onto his side and pressed his face into your stomach, not a single line of pain left showing. 

Daryl so seldom got to relax that seeing him like that and just being able to take it all in was something you found you wanted to do over and over again. Maybe you’d start being more appreciative of the time you could spend watching him sleep in the moonlight from the bedroom window. You knew that was going to be your new favorite bedtime ritual. 

A deep breath drew you from your thoughts and back to him, his eyes fluttering but barely opening. 

“Thanks, sunshine.” He whispered against your shirt, back asleep before you could reply. 

“Anytime, love. Anytime.”

[whump-and-other-misfortunes]

Whumpuary 2024 Day 9

9. (Jan 17-18) "Make it stop" / Restraints / Hair Grabbing 

cw starvation, defiant whumpee, kidnapping 

“You’re going to have to eat eventually.” 

Whumpee glared up at their captor. They'd gotten worryingly thin, dark circles under their eyes that contrasted their pallid skin, but they still managed to fix Whumper with an angry, defiant look. “I’m not eating anything you give me.” 

Whumper knelt in front of them and ghosted their fingers over Whumpee’s collarbone and down their shoulder. “I’m not going to poison you. But even if I did, what would it matter? You’re killing yourself anyway.” 

“Fuck you,” Whumpee said weakly, looking down as they wrapped their arms around themself. 

Whumper slid a hand up the back of their neck and into Whumpee’s hair, grabbing onto it roughly and forcing Whumpee to meet their eyes. They felt some of the strands come loose in their hand, and Whumpee gave a soft noise of pain. “You’re coming upstairs tonight. And you’re going to sit at the table with me.” 

Tears glistened in Whumpee’s eyes as the grip on their hair tightened. 

“You can either be fucking good and eat,” Whumper spat, “or you can just torture yourself more by watching me enjoy my dinner after you’ve been starving yourself for days. The choice is yours.” 

[suspensefulpen]

Whumpuary Day 18: “Make It Stop”

TW: None

@whumpuary

Whumpee squeezed their eyes shut as Caretaker ran a cotton swab over their wounds. They hissed in pain at the burning sensation, tightly gripping their stuffed teddy bear. When she ran the swab over an open wound they smacked her hand away. 

“Whumpee…” Caretaker warned. 

“It burns! It burns!” They screamed and kicked, nearly hitting her. “Make it stop!” 

She held down their legs, causing them to squirm. “Whumpee, sit still or you’ll make it worse. Do you want it to hurt more?” 

“No…” They whined, briefly stopping their struggle. Caretaker continued cleaning the wounds when they hissed again. “No! No! It burns! Stop it!” 

“Whumpee do I need to completely hold you down while I’m doing this?” She frowned. 

“No!” They cried. “Make it stop!” 

“It’ll be over faster if you just sit still. Now stop throwing a fit or I will hold you down.” Whumpee did as told, still whining and hissing as the cotton ran over their skin. A moment later, Caretaker was placing bandages over the wounds. They watched, sniffling. Once she was done, she put away the medical supplies and turned to Whumpee empty handed. “Now you see? It’s over with already. How hard was that?” 

Whumpee shook their head slowly. “Not that hard…” 

Caretaker pointed to their stuffed bear. “See, even Teddy thinks it wasn’t that hard.” Whumpee glanced down at the stuffed animal. She reached inside the medical kit again. She pulled out a roll of stickers, gently placing one on each bandage. She placed one on Whumpee’s chest along with Teddy’s. “There, all done.” 

She watched as Whumpee looked in awe at each of the stars decorating their wounds. She almost smiled at the sight. She never understood why they liked the stickers so much but she didn’t bother asking. Grabbing the blanket nearby, she wrapped it around them before picking up the kit. “I’ll bring you some tea.” 

[lilac-rose-writes]

Kindergarten Fanfics Masterpost

Character Study Series:

The Before And The After- Ozzy (21/11/2021) Tuesday- Carla (26/11/2021) Good Boy- Stevie (05/12/2021) Enough- Ted (13/12/2021) Pretty Girls- Cindy (15/12/2021) Experiences, Crushes and Science Lessons- Jerome (17/12/2021) Revolting Children- Ms Applegate (23/12/2021) Letters- Madison (01/01/2022) Wilted- Lily (05/01/2022) Advancements- Male Principal (26/01/2022) The Sole Heir To Applesoft- Felix (15/02/2022) Oddball- Margaret (26/02/2022) Smart- Monty (09/04/2022) Green- Bob (16/05/2022) Lost- Alice (23/07/2022) Sleep- Billy (22/08/2022) Death- Kid (25/08/2022) Monsters, Sleepovers and Love Letters- Nugget (02/09/2022)

Miscellaneous One-Shots and AUs

Love Me- Yandere Kid AU (27/03/2022) In The Dark- Reverse AU (07/06/2022) Hogwarts School of Magic and Mysteries- Harry Potter AU (12/06/2022) Penny Is Definitely a Robot- Pre Canon (29/08/2022) What Not To Do When You Meet a New Superhero- Spider-Man AU (22/12/2022) Poor, Unfortunate Souls- Kid-centric Study (10/03/2023) What It Takes To Survive- K1 Bad End (26/03/2023) Camp Principal- Camp Camp AU (28/03/2023) The Final Duet- OMORI AU Prequel (03/06/2023) Don't Blend Billy- Blended Billy (23/07/2023) The Owl House but Kindergarten- Owl House AU (24/07/2023)

@weedkillercentral's Restautant Saga

Penny and Carla go to IHOP at 3:47AM (20/11/2022) Kid Goes to Taco Bell At a Reasonable Hour of the Day (18/12/2022)

Pearla-Centric One-Shots

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year (24/12/2021) Smile (28/08/2022) Purple Heathers (28/11/2022)

Whumptobers

Whumptober 2022 (01/10/2022) Kindergarten Whumpuary (it's complicated)

Ghost Felix AU

Alone (02/07/2022) Absolutely Fine (05/11/2022)

Hi! I'm Lilac, and my AO3 account can be found here as Lilac_The_Book_Lover. I've been writing for the Kindergarten fandom for a few years now, and I don't plan on stopping anytime soon. <3

My profile picture & header were made by the INCREDIBLE @rainrayne!! They're such a wonderfully talented artist and a lovely mutual to have; I urge you to check out their account if you haven't already! :D

[workingdownthewordmine]

Love Thy Neighbour - Chapter 2 Shadows in the House

Bucky is haunted by an unwanted presence all too close to home.

Read this chapter on AO3 here.

Chapter 1 | Chapter3

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes Rating: T CW: Threat, injury, paranoia, hearing voices, flashbacks, choking Prompts filled: Fandom Free Bingo (Frosty Edition) card 1: Helping the injured @fandom-free-bingo Febuwhump 2024: Day 18 - Too weak to move @febuwhump Multifandom-Flash (Round 2): Through the eyes of madness @multifandom-flash Multifandom-Flash (Discrimination): Dehumanizing insult Whumpuary 2024: Day 2 - "Get away from me"/collapse/choking @whumpuary

Dividers by @unfortunate-beetle-and-friends

“Will he not fancy that the shadows which he formerly saw are truer than the objects which are now shown to him?” 

Plato 

The temporary soothing effect of the whimsical gift and its accompanying note wore off as soon as night fell. There was work to do before he could turn in. He travelled every floor, setting his alarms, dragging armfuls of lumber with him to plug up as many points of entry as he could. If someone was going to get in here, he wanted to know exactly what route they’d have to take. No one was going to sneaking up on him down some eccentric crawlspace left behind by decades of half-funded renovations. Every pinch he squirmed through seemed to reveal another crack in the building’s shell until he was choking on dust and the ache in his shoulder and side was making his entire torso throb. How could a building so full of holes still be standing? Even when his lumber supply dried up and he was forced to return to the apartment, he couldn’t stop circling from one window to the next, scanning the streets outside. What had been caution wound about him tighter and tighter until he moved through his home like a deadly sharp coiled spring, poised to taste blood. Eventually he did force himself to lie down, but it didn’t do him much good. The spring would not unwind. 

Bucky slept about as well as he predicted – a little worse than an insomniac who’d been trying to treat their chicken pox with cocaine. He lay with his back pressed to the wall, trying to shield himself against the phantom fingers waiting to close around his throat. 

The voice that crept from his lips was barely a breath in the dark. “I won’t go back.” He dipped his chin in the tiniest nod. “I won’t go back. I won’t go back.” 

He shunned his sleeping bag. He needed to sleep lightly, not lulled by softness. He felt every splinter in the floorboards. Every change of light through the window above him or soft creak from the aging building had his hand tightening on his sidearm, jerking his shoulder until each movement meant a wince and an effort to stay silent. Even without his almost hourly patrols of the building, gun in hand, the night was more exhausting than the day. 

Daylight came as a relief, for as much as fifteen minutes. He lit the stove and poured hot water onto half a cup of coffee granules. Nothing less had a hope of making it through to his central nervous system before his body neutralised it. By the same token, he downed a handful of pills with the first scalding swallow. In defiance of Hollywood’s beliefs, pain wouldn’t sharpen his reflexes, just hinder his control. And he needed to be in control of himself. The painkillers hadn’t even kicked in before his short-lived respite was over.  

It was no more than a car backfiring. He was certain of that. He was no raw recruit filling his shorts with shit at the snap of a twig. So, why was it a full ten minutes before he could thaw from his crouch at the window and stop examining every inch of Legion Street through his scope? Why was every nerve ending already blazing when the alarm sang out overhead? 

Fuck. Fuck. He’d fucked up. All the traps he had laid, all the potential openings he’d boarded up… useless. Someone was up there right over his goddamn head. Useless. Fucking useless. He strapped a knife to his thigh opposite his gun, hesitated, and added another to his shin. The he removed the board from the wall cavity in the hall closet as quietly as possible. 

He’d walked into this situation and no one was going to save him if he didn’t get his shit together and do it himself.  

Even if they could, why would they bother? They’d probably be relieved to have the embarrassing fuck-up taken care of…  

The reptilian voice crawled through the back of his mind as he eased through the gap and into the dark, dusty recess. They wouldn’t come, not even if he called, not when he’d pushed them all away. 

He pulled himself around a beam, metal fingers biting deep into the wood, struggling to breathe in the suffocating gloom. And he couldn’t call. Because his phone was back in his apartment, now fifteen feet below him. Because he knew, didn’t he? He knew and had always known that the best, kindest – hell, the only- thing he could do for anyone he cared about was to stay away from them. Stay entirely out of contact. 

Higher. No beams here. Back and feet braced against either wall. Level with the third floor ceiling with the alarm still wailing above him. Idiot. The noise would tell whoever was up there that they’d been detected. There went any element of surprise and any chance he’d had of tracking their movement until he had eyes on them or that fucking noise stopped. Fucking stupid of him. The shrieking alarm reverberated around his skull. The only thing worse than a monster was an incompetent monster. He moved slower. He pushed through prickling sheets of insulation. The air in his chest burned and his head spun. The shrieking alarm mingled with the mocking sneer inside his head. What good was this half-assed fucking around inside a fucking wall? Without his leash, he was no better than a stray dog loose in the traffic, waiting for a speeding car to end his miserable existence. 

Head already spinning, he didn’t realise he was falling until he smashed through a beam and twisted, raking down the rough wall, the light from his own apartment flashing past him and receding, disappearing into the darkness along with everything else. Ice cold air tearing past him. Agony searing through his arm, rock and snow racing up to meet him… Worthless piece of shit… 

He woke and fought not to scream. The debris around him gouged his flailing body as he wrenched free. He rolled, dropped again, then he was kneeling, shaking, on the mouldy piss-stinking basement floor. He groped at the cracked edges of tile around him, grasping in desperation. Cold, dark, pain… he could feel  the restraints around his limbs dragging him down. The scream ripped free. He kicked furiously, scrabbling for purchase in the dirt, throwing himself towards the doorway and the dim light filtering down the stairwell. His shoulder slammed into the doorframe. He felt the wall tremble as though the whole building was ready to fall.  

Do it… bury me down here. In the pit. Where I belong. 

Merciful darkness swallowed him. 

They took a little longer to reach the basement. They followed the sounds. His fall. His scream. The ringing impact of Vibranium on concrete. Then they hesitated at the head of the last flight of stairs. If he was still conscious, what sort of condition would he be in? To them it seemed most likely they’d find him catatonic or maybe crazed with distress, like a wounded, cornered animal… They’d heard those sounds before. No one who made sounds like that was going to be in a state to roll out a welcome mat. Softly, they descended. 

He woke in a rush of panic, his eyes and lungs burning, unable to recognise his surroundings. There were straps on his arms. His legs. His chest. No. No. No! He forced himself upright, wrenching his left arm across to tear at the fabric binding his right, heedless of the pain in his shoulder. Fresh blood welled under his digging fingertips. He had already shredded the fabric before he realised it wasn’t secured to anything. There was still an intact sea knot amongst the pieces he had stripped away. The cloth was tacky with blood. Not restraints – bandages. Someone had bandaged him while he was unconscious. He heard his own harsh breath filling the room, bruising the silence, as he scanned frantically.  

Newspapered walls. Light blotted out by heavy boards across the windows. The floor stained and pitted but fairly clear of garbage… because he had shovelled it all out into the alley during his first week here. He remembered deciding he’d get his own place fixed up first but that he wouldn’t leave all that gross shit and trash to stink everything up and rot the wood even further. It had taken him a day or two to haul everything out. Him. He was in one of the downstairs apartments. Alive. Unrestrained. No more harmed than he’d been after…  

The fall. That fucking voice. He whipped around, ignoring the flares of pain all over him, expecting to find a familiar silhouette looming over him. Expecting rusted metal to choke him at any moment. But he was alone. The only presence he could detect was his own. Still, he didn’t trust it yet. He hadn’t forgotten the story Steve had related – waking up in a room Fury’s people had designed. Who was to say the same wasn’t happening to Bucky right now? Maybe they’d decided they weren’t comfortable with having him on the loose after all. Maybe Hydra had copied the trick. He wouldn’t put it past them. But why now, when they’d never troubled themselves to make him feel at home before? 

It was only as he got stiffly to his feet that he noticed he had not been lying on bare floor as he’d assumed. Where his head had rested there was a bundle of cloth. He pulled it towards him and it unrolled into a stained black hoodie, heavy with the mingled smells of blood and sweat. And someone had rolled it up into a pillow for him. He dropped it beside his feet and paused to examine his bandages more closely. They didn’t look like they’d been very neat even before his violent clawing but those that had survived his panic were still fairly secure, tied off like the one he’d destroyed, not pinned or taped. The worst of his wounds – a deep gash in his right thigh – had an extra strip of fabric tied over the top of the crepe bandages. Improvised bandages had changed somewhat since France; the addition wasn’t scavenged linen. He plucked at the thin stretchy cotton and recognised part of an old t-shirt. He grunted with amusement, in spite of the weird situation, when his probing fingers found a green paw mark printed on the black fabric. That, more than anything else, struck him as an unlikely ploy for any of his enemies. He thought of the plant in its bright pot and the friendly note that had accompanied it. 

He tested his arm and legs. Bruised, bleeding in a few places, but nothing broken. His bones didn’t break readily. He took a deep breath and doubled over choking. His throat was raw. His cheeks grew hot at the memory of his terrified screaming. It was probably too much to hope that no one had heard. 

What an embarrassment you are. So much training wasted… 

He had to get out of here. 

The stairs were a difficult climb. His lungs were full of fire. The absence of the tripwires on his floor registered mostly in relief that he wouldn’t have to negotiate them with watering eyes and stumbling feet. He stepped carefully round the stakes he had embedded beneath false patches of linoleum in his entryway, holding the wall for balance. He squinted painfully out of the window, trying to gauge how long he had been incapacitated. Looked like afternoon. Hours, then. Guilt and shame twisted in his gut.  

He stared through streaming eyes between the doorways of the hall closet and his bedroom. He wasn’t exactly going to be safe with that big fucking hole into the wall  sitting there open and visible, but how safe was he anyway? He’d completely failed to make this place any kind of fortress. The alarm was no longer screaming. Had the battery died? Had someone turned it off? He swayed as he turned his gaze to his sleeping bag. God, he needed rest. How long had it been since he had screamed so much that it hurt to breathe? He ran his hands over his torso, searching, but the pain wasn’t right for broken ribs and he found no evidence of them. Gravity pulled at him. He leaned on the door jamb, willing the smooth surface to cool his prickling forehead. Was it possible to come down with the flu in the space of a couple of hours? Could he even still catch the flu? That was enough thought to set his head spinning. His fingertips splintered the doorframe as he rocked on his feet. Down. Lie down. Important. The sleeping bag seized his gaze again.  

You’ve been sleeping all day. Why should a performance like today’s earn a nap? 

The last word was spat in his face, with all the disdain the childish concept deserved.  

What do you think you deserve for humiliating yourself? A pat on the head and a cookie? 

“I’ll do better…” he found himself muttering. He scrubbed his hand across his red eyes and drew in a sharp breath at the fresh wave of pain left in its wake. Mastering himself, he crossed back to the closet and hauled up the board that covered the hole. He set it in place and cast about for the tools to fix it there. So dark in this shadowy recess, out of sight of the apartment’s few windows. He blinked, trying to clear the terrible gritty feeling from his eyes. The closet seemed darker each time it came back into view. The darkness flickered like the static on a television set. The unsteady floor rattled as he crashed down on his knees then pitched forwards onto his face. 

Consciousness returned with punishing weight, yet left him in the dark. The force that had woken him pressed him down against the bare wood. He jerked under another blow, the impact echoing around his skull. Stop. Please. I’ll do better… Please. Another thud. Pleading never helped… Another wince. A voice. He flinched, expecting more pain. But the voice was outside of his head. No… No! He fumbled blindly for his pistol. Both arms were too heavy to move.  

To think I called something like you an asset…  

He gulped, throat closed, no sound beyond a gurgle. Had he- was his jaw broken again? Thud… Thud, thud. The blows sporadic and somehow distant. He couldn’t pull himself from the past, his weakened body seeming to occupy both at once. He groped for the gun again. Couldn’t grip. Slipping. There was a soft scrabbling at the front door. The knob rattled. He made one more grasp for his weapon, then the darkness of memory closed over his face.  

[ygofandomcalendar]

This week in Yu-Gi-Oh! (16 January 2023)

We cannot provide links to off-tumblr events in these posts as it gets us flagged as a bot. Please see one of the TeamUp calendars linked from our blog for further details on any of the events below.

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Sign-ups have opened for @americankestrelprojects‘ 2023 Pride Zine.

Interest check has begun for @aygozineproduction‘s Dragons Den - A YGO Fanzine.

@joukaiweek begins on 19 January.

@wipbigbang are hosting a challenge to finish WIPs under 7,500 words by International Fanworks Day (February 15).

Work continues on YGO Rare Pairs Mini-Bang.

Work reveals for @holly-poly fanworks exchange were delayed to 15th January, with creator reveals on the 21st.

Various multifandom prompt challenges continue, including Fandom Empire Monopoly, Gen Prompt Bingo, Comment Bingo, Ladies Bingo, Snowflake Challenge, Whumpuary, None English Fest, Three Sentence Ficathon, and Year of the OTP.

Plus five additional events marked as 18+ only.

Is your event missing? Drop us a message with a link!

[eros-heartache]

My Writing Masterlists

Below is a masterlist of all writing challenges, events and bingo's I have participated in.

Please be warned. This collection contains works that are 18+. If you are a minor, please do not interact! I am an adult, who writes fiction intended for adults. As always, be mindful of tags and warnings. It is up to you to curate your own online and fandom experiences.

All my Ao3 Works | Here

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Monthly Events:

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Kinktober 2023 | Masterlist

Whumpuary 2024 | Masterlist

Cherrytober 2024 |Masterlist

Fluffcember 2024 | (POSTPONED)

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Bingo Cards

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Ao3 Favorite Things Bingo (x) | Card Masterlist

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AnyFandomGoes Bingo (x)

AFG Angst Bingo (x) | Card Masterlist

AFG AU Bingo (x) | Card Masterlist

AFG Bad Bitches Bingo (x) | Card Masterlist

AFG Fluff Bingo (x) | Card Masterlist

AFG Kink Bingo (x) | Card Masterlist

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Bad Things Happen Bingo (x) | Card Masterlist

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Into The Wilds Bingo (x) | Card Masterlist

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Fandom-free Bingo (x)

FF Bug Edition Bingo (5X5) | Card Masterlist

FF National Friendship Day Bingo | Card Masterlist

FF National Relaxation Day Bingo | Card Masterlist

FF Sleep Under the Star Bingo | Card Masterlist

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Halloween Horror Bingo (x)

Halloween Horro Bingo (E) | Card Masterlist

Halloween Horror Bingo (M) | Card Masterlist

Halloween Horror Bingo (H) | Card Masterlist

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Multifandom Flash Bingo (x)

MFF Pour Me a Bingo Alcohol Version | Card Masterlist

MFF National Kiss and Make Up Day Bingo | Card Masterlist

MFF Superstitions Bingo | Card Masterlist

MFF New Year's Resolution - NSFW Bingo | Card Masterlist

MFF Fear Bingo | Card Masterlist

MFF Valentine's Day Bingo | Card Masterlist

MFF World Photography Day Bingo | Card Masterlist

MFF Thanksgiving Bingo | Card Masterlist

MFF National Girlfriends Day Bingo | Card Masterlist

[serickswrites]

Stranded

Warnings: kidnapping, torture, escape, poison, unclear character status

Whumpee stumbled along. They could barely move. But they had to get out of there. Had to get away. 

Whumper had grabbed them days--weeks?--ago. And every waking moment had been hell. Whumper had hurt them day in day out. Tortured them in every way imaginable. 

But Whumpee had escaped. Had escaped despite the pain. Had escaped despite the bruises, the cuts, and the sprains. Had escaped and not looked back. 

They were in the middle of nowhere. The forest surrounding them. It was unbearably hot--Whumpee couldn’t stop sweating. And they were insatiably thirsty. But they couldn’t stop. They had to keep going. 

With each step, it became harder and harder to breathe. And their heart threatened to pound out of their chest. Whumpee sighed and leaned against a tree. They couldn’t stop. They had to keep going. But they...they needed a moment. 

Whumpee wasn’t sure why they had felt so bad. Why this was so difficult. Yes, their body was hurt. Yes, they had been tortured for days on end. But they shouldn’t be this exhausted. This warm. It was only early spring. The snow had barely melted. And yet Whumpee was sweating like a pig. 

What had Whumper done to them? What had they done to leave Whumpee untied and the door unlocked? Whumpee’s already dry mouth went bone dry as the sinking feeling they had in their gut solidified. 

Whumpee had been barely conscious when Whumper had done this. But as they lifted their arm to their face, vision blurring and going in and out, the little, dried, pinprick of blood on their skin was unmistakeable. Whumper had injected them with something. 

Poison, their brain helpfully supplied. Whumpee had been poisoned. Whumpee would have sobbed if they weren’t so dehyrdated. As it was, they slid down the trunk until they were sitting. There was no way they were getting out of the forest and to Caretaker in time. Whatever Whumper had given them was fast acting. 

Whumpee’s vision was failing as the world spun around them. They hated this. Hated that this was how everything ended. That Whumper won. Soon Whumpee’s vision faded. As did the sounds around them. But not before they heard their name being called frantically by a voice they would always answer. 

But Whumpee couldn’t answer Caretaker. Couldn’t respond. The darkness had already claimed them. The poison thick in their veins already dragging them under. Whumper had finally won. 

[grizzledyoungimpact]

The Need To Protect

Whumpuary 2024 January 17-18 2024 Make It Stop/Restrained/Hair Grabbing Alarick Bane (OC), Maddox Lovell (OC)/Harlow Fischer (OC) Slight AU

A loud snarl tore through Alarick Bane's throat as he attempted to pull himself free of the grasp of the man who called himself Bullit. This wasn't fair, none of this was fair. He had been so close to being able to help Maddox finally take on the threat that was Spike Trivet and Dominatus Regnum, so close to evening the odds that had been stacked against The Lykos Gym.

All it had taken to stop him was a shot with the elegantly crafted silver head of the cane Spike Trivet had started to carry.

Since Harlow had managed to win Super Strong Style 16, Spike Trivet had made it his goal in life to ruin the shitwolves chances at ever taking the title. There had been plenty of back and forth between the two men. He remembered, sadly, the end of the first match between Spike and Maddox, the pain of seeing someone he considered a little brother having something so precious stolen. Maddox's wife had done her best to hide his face that day, as had their little shitwolf brother Harlow. All four had sworn to make a game plan the next time Harlow decided to take what he deserved from Spike Trivet.

Today was supposed to be that second chance.

Both men had put something important on the line. For Spike Trivet, who months ago had lost the Progress World Championship to Will Ospreay, it was his place in the world. If Spike lost, he would allow himself to be tossed into a hospital ward for his ever faltering mental health. For Maddox it was his mask, his identity as the man known as Kid Lykos. Both Harlow and Maddox had executed their part of the plan with little issues.

Alarick hadn't been so lucky.

The affliction to silver had been his downfall. Since Super Strong Style 16, Spike had been carrying his new cane as a signifier of his wealth. The head of it was carved out of silver to resemble a howling wolf in order to mock the Lykos Gym. Alarick had been mid-fight with Charlie Sterling on the outside when he had been spun to face the larger Bullit and cracked in the skull with the weapon.

Now here Alarick knelt, forced to watch the action in the ring. He snarled as he tried to struggle, but the strike had left him weak. Now all he could do was try his best to get free as the referee's hand landed for the three count.

For Spike's win.

"That's because of you," snarled Bullit in Alarick's ear, "long live Dominatus Regnum."

[rainswhenyourehere]

we'll never be truly free

whumpuary fic 1 !!

prompts: ‘get away from me’ | collapse(lowkey) | choking (day 3-4) ‘make it stop’ | restrained | hair grabbing (day 17-18) ‘you’re awake’ | rescue | unfair fight (day 23-24) + alt 7 ‘do you trust me?’

[suspensefulpen]

Whumpuary 2024 Masterpost

Just like my Whumpcember Masterpost, these are all my entries for Whumpuary

Day 1: Captivity | Snow // TW: Captivity, Conditioned Whumpee

Day 2: Secret Revealed // TW: Implied/Mentioned Past Abuse

Day 3: “Get Away From Me” // TW: None

Day 4: Collapse | Choking // TW: Choking, Bad Caretaker

Day 5: Used As Bait | Stumbling // TW: Blood, Kidnapping, Pet Whump, Creepy Whumper

Day 6: “This Is Gonna Hurt" // TW: Noncon Drugging, Multiple Whumpers, Labrat Whumpee, Implied Torture

Day 7: Kneeling // TW: Captivity, Torture, Chain Restraints, Dehumanization, Pet Whump, Conditioned Whumpee, Collars

Day 8: “Help Me” | Lightheaded // TW: Brief Mention of Blood

Day 9: Can’t Move | “Stay. Please.” // TW: None

Day 10: Kidnapped // TW: Kidnapping

Day 11: Blindfolded // TW: Past/Mentioned Kidnapping and Noncon Drugging, Restrained, Captivity, Sadistic/Creepy Whumper

Day 12: Exhaustion // TW: Failed Escape Attempt, Implied Torture, Bad Caretaker

Day 13: I Didn’t Know Where Else To Go” | Bruises // TW: Implied Choking

Day 14: Drugged // TW: Noncon Drugging, Multiple Whumpers, Lab Rat Whumpee, Blood

Day 15: Muffled Screams | Hostage // TW: Hostage, Kidnapping, Creepy Whumper, Pet Whump, Shock Collar

Day 16: “You Look Awful” // TW: Bad Caretaker, Captivity, Fever

Day 17: Restrained | Hair Grabbing // TW: Restraints, Hair Pulling, Torture, Implied Choking

Day 18: “Make It Stop” // TW: None

Day 19: Gunpoint // TW: Gun, Held At Gunpoint, Conditioned Whumpee, Living Weapon Whumpee

Day 20: Desperation | Can’t Stay Awake // TW: Blood, (Implied) Character Death

Day 21: “Just Get It Over With” // TW: Implied Torture, Punishments, Knife 

Day 22: Memories // TW: Past Captivity, Conditioned Whumpee, Past Intimate/Creepy Whumper

Day 23: Rescue // TW: Implied Past Torture

Day 24: “You’re Awake” // TW: None

Day 25: Left to Die // TW: Blood, Bad Caretaker

Day 26: Barely Conscious | “I’m Fine” // TW: Implied Hidden Injury

Day 27: Flinching | Breakdown // TW: Bad Caretaker, Pet Whump, Conditioned Whumpee

Day 28: Sleep Deprivation // TW: Noncon Drugging, Conditioned Whumpee, Implied Past Captivity

Day 29: “You’re Safe” // TW: TW: Creepy/Intimate Carewhumper, Conditioned Whumpee, Manipulation, Captivity  

Day 30: Aftermath // TW: Past Torture, Captivity, Bad Caretaker and Character Deaths

Day 31: Touch Starved // TW: Captivity

[fairyheart]

Daggers Reblog Challenge

This is my reblog count for the Daggers Reblog Challenge hosted by @natrace

11.

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[serickswrites]

Whumpuary 2024

Day 1/2--Prompt: snow. TW: left for dead, wounds, broken bones, bruises,

Day 3/4--Prompts covered: collapse, choking, "get away from me" TW: torture, poison, choking, collapse, unconsciousness, self sacrifice, unclear character status

Day 5/6--Prompts covered: "This is gonna hurt," stumbling. TW: blood, wounds, arrow, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery

Day 7/8--Prompts covered: kneeling, lightheadedness, "help me," TW: captivity, torture, restraints, head injury, blood, bleeding from the mouth, unconsciousness, rescue, unclear character status

Day 9/10--Prompts covered: can't move, "Stay. Please.", kidnapping, TW: kidnapping, captivity, torture, restraints, forced to watch, self sacrifice, broken bones, bruises, blood, unconsciousness, rescue, hospital, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery

Day 11/12--Prompts covered: can't move, "stay. please." TW: kidnapping, captivity, torture, restraints, forced to watch, self sacrifice, broken bones, bruises, blood, unconsciousness, rescue, hospital, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery

Day 13/14--Prompts covered: bruises, "I didn't know where else to go." TW: captivity, bruises, torture, escape

Day 15/16--Prompts covered: muffled scream, hostage situation, "you look awful". TW: hostage situation, torture, captivity, emotional manipulation, self sacrifice, bruises, broken bones, blood, wounds, strangulation, choking, unconsciousness

Day 17/18--Prompts covered: restrained, hair grabbing, "make it stop." TW: captivity, restraints, torture, cruel whumper

Day 19/20--Prompts covered: can't stay awake, desperation. TW: nightmares, referenced trauma, implied captivity, implied drugging, unclear character status

Day 21/22--Prompts covered: blood, memories, "just get it over with." TW: captivity, torture, restraints, blood, self sacrifice, death, mcd, grief, hurt/no comfort

Day 23/24--prompts covered: "you're awake," rescue. TW: captivity, torture, restraints, unconsciousness, blood, blood loss, rescue, caretaker and whumpee

Day 25/26--prompts covered: barely conscious, left for dead, "I'm fine." TW: captivity, torture, restraints, blood, bloody nose, bruises, rescue

Day 27/28--prompts covered: sleep deprivation, flinching. TW: kidnapping, torture, restraints

Day 29/30/31--prompts covered: "you're safe," aftermath; TW: captivity, restraints, torture, bruises, blood, rescue, unconsciousness, caretaker and whumpee, hurt/aftermath