#whumpuary day 7

[shywhumpauthor]

Whumpuary Day 7

Deep Breaths

manhandling | tied up | tears

Prev. || Masterlist

Cw: torture, drowning, self sacrifice for a cause, thoughts of death, restraints, noose, choking, slight asphyxiation, kinda stress position, manhandling

Cold water soaked through the neck of Whumpee’s dirty shirt, leaking down towards their torso in icy beads. They kept their jaw clenched, teeth grinding against each other to stop them from chattering. They were certain that there had once been ice in the basin, perhaps melted only moments before. No water straight from the tap came out feeling straight glacial.

Their lungs burned, but not as badly as they had anticipated, more so a warm ache than the fiery flicker of water invading their chest. Their hands were shaking, braced against the edge of the sink, fingertips just submerged in the water.

Breathe. In and out, slow, calm breaths. They suppressed the urge to open their mouth, to greedily gulp the air that seemed like such a luxury in these short moments. They knew that’s what Whumper was waiting for, however. For them to release their last possible defense, shove their head back under the depths mid-breath so their desperate claim for oxygen was filled with with water, and Whumpee knew once those first droplets made their way through their lungs, filling them, it was all over. Once that happened, the torture would only become more vigorous. Less time between each submerge, left to choke on the freezing liquid while thrashing below the surface. A merciless cycle that would only cease once they either spilled all their secrets between watery coughs or were fortunate enough to surrender consciousness, heart eventually drawn to stop between the lack of oxygen and impending hypothermia. They doubted Whumper would let that be their finale, though, they’d be resurrected and their torment would only continue, though perhaps they’d be given a bit to recover, a few days to recuperate from the physical trauma before being subject once more to the tortures. They doubted that.

Whumper had stopped asking them questions. They didn’t mind that much, they supposed the repetition of the single phrase had gotten annoying even to Whumper’s own ears. It certainly had theirs. The insistent droning, “who do you work for?” or “what do you know?” or “just tell me, Whumpee, and this can all be over,” it had gotten extremely pestering rather quickly. They supposed that could be a form of torture on its own, having to listen to Whumper’s voice repeat the same meaningless words. When would the message finally pierce through their thick skull? Whumpee wasn’t going to break. Sure, they could bend and strain and physically shatter on every possible level, but they weren’t going to break.

Halfway through their slow inhale, Whumper shoved their head down again and Whumpee quickly held their breath, cutting off the air just as their face was submerged under the water. The cold bit at their skin like needles, their fingertips digging against the metal as they fought the urge to thrash. Fighting would only exhaust them, and exhaustion would do them no good.

On and on it went. Tortured minutes dragged into hours, or so it felt. Whumper wasn’t giving them time to even think of responding anymore, barely enough to drag in a ragged breath before they were forcefully exposed to the water, which only seemed to grow colder as their lips turned a light hue of purple. It was going fine, though, well at least as fine as torture could possibly go. They hadn’t slipped, even as a heavy exhaustion began to tug at their muscles and mind, tempting them to open their mouth and let the confessions come spilling out. Of course, they pushed that thought away, burying it deep behind the layers of resentment in their mind. They weren’t going to let Whumper win this. Especially not with only a bit of water.

They kept their eyes firmly shut as their head was thrust back under the water once more, the cold stinging against their already numb cheeks. They could feel the water dripping down their back, soaking their socks, shivering with each drop. Their lungs constricted and cramped, chest now burning. They had barely been given a chance to exhale their last breath, and had only been able to take in a portion of oxygen typically needed to produce a full inhale. Their toes were already curling inside their soaked shoes, scuffing against the ground as they began to twist, jolting against their own will.

When the punch came, they had nothing left to steel themself with. Their last breath came out in a cough, a stream of bubbles breaking the surface as they gasped. Water invaded their mouth, their nose, filling their throat in a matter of seconds. They were choking, drowning, all beneath Whumper’s hand. They couldn’t think anymore. All logic, reason, gone. Couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. Fuck.

They twisted, kicking their legs with a desperate attempt to hook Whumper’s knee, perhaps send them toppling and in turn, freeing themself. Their efforts were futile, struggles pathetic at the very best. It was a loosing battle, Whumper only shoved their head further towards the bottom of the basin. A second hand pressed against the back of their neck, nails digging in as it held them tightly under the water. Water burned their eyes as they opened, but that was the least of Whumpee’s concerns as the coherency of their thoughts quickly diminished.

Then they started to tire. Not the same sort of exhaustion they had been fighting off for the past day. This was heavy, dragging them down like a boulder tethered to their core. They could feel the energy seeping from them, for each droplet that fell from their soaking figure with it came a fraction of their consciousness. It was moving so fast, and they were moving so slow. A chain looped around their throat, forcing their head further down into the sink’s depths, past the stopped drain and even further below.

They’d always imagined drowning would take longer. Hours and seconds all felt the same below the surface. They tried to hold on, but the threads were slipping through their fingers, pulling away faster than they could grab them back, with it slowly unraveling their consciousness until the last fabric of reality was snatched away to the cold water.

•••

Whumpee didn’t believe they were left out for long, because when the first slivers of consciousness began to return to their mind, the first coherent feelings they became aware of was the awful burning. It felt like their chest was on fire, blood turned to boil in their veins. Water spilled from their lips, dripped from their nose, awful bouts of coughing rattling them to the core. Their head spun with disorientation, vision so blurred their eyes might as well have been closed.

“Come on, that’s it. Just breathe.”

The words were barely heard over the water stuck in Whumpee’s ears, but the gentleness of the tone took them by shock. In the passing moments, their awareness continued to expand, until they were somewhat sensible of the situation around them. They were standing, barely, pressed between Whumper and the basin to keep them upright. Their former boss’s arm wrapped around their chest, their other hand resting against Whumpee’s back, fingers digging in with a manner a bit too abrasive to be tender.

“Welcome back,” Whumper smirked, though their face was still distorted through Whumpee’s eyes, their amusement was beyond clear through their voice. “Is there anything you’d like to say?”

Their first attempt at words came out nothing but a broken wheeze as Whumpee clumsily tried to push away, but Whumper didn’t let them fall. Whumpee coughed, a final dribble of watered down saliva slipping past their lips, tinted pink with the bloody taste that still coated their mouth and throat, before they made a second attempt at speaking.

“Nn’thin to you,” Their voice sounded pitiful, like broken glass that had yet to fully shatter, teetering precariously in the window frame just waiting for the gust that would send the entire structure crashing in.

They weren’t sure what they were hoping to prove with that sentence. Were they trying to demonstrate a shred of defiance, to show Whumper that even then the power they held was only from their own point of view? Or were they trying to anger them only? Regardless, their words seemed to draw only a humorous response as Whumpee chuckled.

“I suppose that means you’re feeling well enough to continue.”

By this point, Whumpee’s heart seemed to have sunken so deep into their chest it would be impossible to go any further, but that was clearly proved wrong. A cold worse than the ice water creeped up their chest, stomach twisted into painful knots as Whumper stood them up straight. The room spun around them, edges of their vision going static as they were half led, half dragged across a small part the room, their feet nothing but deadweight beneath them as they didn’t even make an attempt to stumble along.

“Better perk up quick, Whumpee,” Whumper’s voice pulled with a smirk, giving them a light push into the guard’s waiting form, who grabbed their wrists and wrestled their arms behind their back before Whumpee could so much as stumble properly. They felt the cruel bite of metal against their wrists, as Whumper reached to grab something hanging from the ceiling, slipping it around Whumpee’s neck and fastening it tight. They let out a strangled gasp as they felt the coarse fibers of rope press against their throat, their breath only being cut as Whumper then stepped back to adjust the other end of the noose, looped through a ring in the ceiling and tied to a post against the nearest wall, pulling it to a point where Whumpee could just barely stay upright on the balls of their feet.

“I can’t say this will end well for you otherwise.”

——————————

Next

Tag list: @pickleking8 @blood-enthusiast @t0rture-me @sparrowsage @enigmawritesstuff

[autobot2001]

Not a Happy New Year Snippet

Genre: Fanfiction Fandom: Transformers Rating: T Warnings: blood, poor mental health Description: Jamie is found by a soldier and brought to the media seriously injured. Everyone can't believe what happened, but her guardians struggle the most. This is the portion that fits all the prompts for Whumpuary.

Day  1: snow Day 2: collapse Day 3: stumbling Day 4: lightheaded Day 5: “Stay please.” Day 6: exhaustion. Day 7: drugged. Day 8: “You look awful.” Day 9: Alt 8: blood loss. Day 10: can’t stay awake Day 11: blood Day 12: “You’re awake.” Day 13: barely conscious, “I’m fine.” Day 14: breakdown Day 15: Aftermath

Other promotes used; Alt 1: Stabbed, Alt 2: “let me see.” Alt 5: headache Alt 8: blood loss

A male soldier walks along the path, enjoying how quiet it is. Even with how large the military base is they like walking around the paths outside. Even in the middle of winter. Despite the paths being cleared, snow still coats the paths, but they are walkable. Someone stumbling in three feet of snow instead of walking on the path alarms the soldier. “Hey, are you ok?” He asks. Recognizing the person, the soldier becomes worried about her condition. The female feels lightheaded. Before the soldier can grab her, the female collapses in the snow. The soldier watches as the snow turns red. With no time for first aid, they rush the woman to the medbay. The female whimpers as the soldier picks her up.

“Help!” The soldier yells as they rush into the medbay waiting room. Panicking that no one is at the reception desk. They run through the doors to the rest of the medbay. “Help!” They yell again. “What’s going —” Jasmine sees who the soldier is holding and lets out a gasp, “Jolt! Ratchet!” The two mechs rush out of their offices, horrified at what they’re seeing. The soldier follows the medics to the emergency care room. Patients for this room arrive by medivac or Ratchet’s ambulance alt mode. The soldier lies the female on the medical table. He's uncertain about waiting in the room. He can’t watch the medics once he sees how critical the female is. He goes to the waiting room. I can’t believe this. Ratchet thinks. Jamie has been in the medbay before, but this time is unlike any other. She has never been brought to this room before. Once the three medics remove Jamie's clothes, they can't believe what they're seeing'; many stab wounds all over her body. “She was fragging attacked!” Jolt rages. “Get a blood transfusion going,” Ratchet orders Jasmine, “and test her blood count. The three are aware that Jamie is in hemorrhagic shock but unsure of its severity. Jasmine gets a blood bag and a syringe to draw blood. Jolt puts in a large-bore IV for rapid delivery of fluids and blood. Jolt prepares an IV bag of crystalloids. “I think we should intubate her,” Jolt advises, “airway protection for now. No positive pressure.” Jamie's injuries are the final concern. Especially the cuts on her abdomen. The three medics hope Jamie won't need surgery.

The soldier isn’t told to stay or leave as Jamie’s guardians, sister, and Optimus come to hear what happened to Jamie. The medics were surprised to see the terror twins with Crosshairs and Drift, but the twins are not asked to leave. Even though this news will infuriate Sunstreaker. As Ratchet finishes explaining the situation, Sunstreaker's anger intensifies, while Lightning, Sideswipe, and Optimus become angrier. Crosshairs and Drift remember the nightmare situation they went through, Terrified it’s happening all over. The soldier knows about the Autobots' call the nightmare situation, which brings up painful memories for Crosshairs and Drift, despite their numerous battles. The soldier watches as the medics make Crosshairs and Drift sit on the chairs close to them. “Do you know who did it?” Sunstreaker asks. “N-no, I wish I did,” the soldier tells him. Sunstreaker growls and leaves the medbay. “Great, he’s going to try to find them,” Sideswipe sighs. “The paths don’t have cameras,” Optimus points out, “Red Alert won’t be able to help us.” “Maybe the cameras by the doors can help find out who attacked Jamie?” The soldier asks. “Perhaps,” Optimus replies and leaves the medbay. “Let me see her,” Drift says, fear in his voice. “I don’t think that’s —,” Ratchet argues. “Let me see her!”The two medics nod, telling Ratchet to let Jamie’s guardians and sister see her even though they’ll hate her condition. They ask the soldier to come with them. The medics worry about the reaction they’ll see from the three worried friends.

Ratchet and Jolt make Crosshairs and Drift sit on the chairs that were already moved by the bed. Tears roll down Crosshairs and Drift’s faces. “Sit down,” Jasmine whispers to Lightning “I’m fine. Well, compared to them.” The soldier knows he’s seeing a fraction of the sadness Crosshairs and Drift deal with. Seeing their relationship with Jamie. He knows Lightning is close to Jamie, but not like Crosshairs and Drift. Despite the medics' decision not to disclose Jamie's injuries, the bag of blood is a clear indicator of the seriousness. The stitched cuts on Jamie’s arm that was lifted from under the blanket also gives clues about how badly the soldiers hurt Jamie. The soldier isn’t sure how injured Jamie is, but the blood he saw on her clothes told him she was heavily bleeding. “Should we tell them she’s not in an induced coma?” Jasmine whispers to Ratchet. “No, they’re going to struggle as it is without knowing further details about Jamie’s condition. It would be the same to wait for her to get stronger before stopping the medically induced coma. She might wake up in two days once she recovered from the blood loss. However, I'd rather not inform them right now.” “I’m going to go now and let them be with her,” the soldier tells Ratchet. “No, stay, please,” Drift says while standing up. Everyone watches him lead the soldier to where he was sitting. The soldier doesn’t understand why he’s allowed to sit here. He saved Jamie, but he never interacted with her or her guardians prior to today. He’s just another soldier in the base. So why the privilege of sitting by Jamie and in Drift’s way? Drift stands next to him. Lightning stands next to Crosshairs, who hugs her.

“What?!” Red Alert and Prowl ask. I can’t believe this is happening again. Prowl thinks. Red Alert immediately checks the security footage near the back entrance of the base. The three mechs hope they can get evidence and arrest the soldiers who attacked Jamie.

“Did you find out who attacked her?” Sunstreaker asks as the three mechs walk out of the security office. “Yes, you will not engage with them,” Optimus replies, “it’s better you and Sideswipe help Crosshairs, Drift, and Lightning.” Sunstreaker doesn’t want to let the soldiers get arrested rather than killed by him, but he worries about his three friends and Sideswipe. He heads to the medbay.

Sideswipe stands in the hallway by an ICU room. “It’s bad,” he tells Sunstreaker, “I had to step out but I can’t leave, you know?” Sunstreaker looks in the room, at the bed Jamie lies in. “Yeah, I know. They’ll need us, but it’s hard seeing her like that. This has happened twice now. I'm concerned about the possibility of this happening again and Lily becoming a target. “What the frag are they thinking? They’re just going to get arrested. Unless…. they’re trying to get Optimus to decide Jamie shouldn’t be here.” “Still, how’s that benefiting them? They’re arrested and in prison. I hope this stops. Even with how difficult her mental health is, she needs to be here. She needs them.” Sideswipe looks into the room from the window. The medics have returned to their offices. Sunstreaker goes to talk to Ratchet.

“Is there anything you can tell me?” Sunstreaker asks. “Only that she might wake up in a day or two, but she’ll be weak. You don’t want to know the extent of her injuries. I hope this stops.” “I worry Lily could be a target even if Sideswipe is right about soldiers trying to get Jamie banned from coming here. “This is a serious problem. We’ll tell Optimus after Jamie recovers. He’s already worried about her, having to arrest soldiers, and if this could happen again.”

The terror twins, Lightning and the soldi get Crosshairs and Drift to go to the cafeteria for lunch. Everyone is worried about leaving the medbay, but Ratchet will make them if they don’t leave to eat. The six hate how everyone else will know what happened. 

Everyone who found out what happened want to help their friends but know nothing will help until Jamie recovers from the attack.

“You look awful,” Crosshairs points out, worried “I’m fine,” Drift claims. Two days passed, Drift doesn’t sleep and eats very little. Crosshairs worries about Drift’s energon level. Knowing how little he’s eaten would affect a human at this point and how using their holoform uses the energon in their Cybertronian bodies. He watches Drift stumble down the hall. He follows the mech to the medbay.

Jolt and Ratchet notice Drift’s poor state. They struggle to get him into an exam room. Drift’s holoform is strong, but he’s struggling to break free from the medics’ grip. A hint for the two medics of how unwell Drift is. Jasmine doesn’t wait for orders before getting a syringe of lorazepam. The three mechs don’t question her before she injects the drug. Thankful Drift is wearing a T-shirt. The drug is fast acting, and the medics get Drift on the exam table before he’s asleep. “Mental breakdown,” Ratchet sighs, “I should have known this would happen,” he watches Crosshairs sit on the chair in the room, “don’t tell me you’re ok.” “I…,” Crosshairs doesn’t know what to say as tears roll down his face. He should talk to Rung, but I don’t think that’ll help. Ratchet believes. Jasmine watches the two mechs, hoping she won’t have to drug Crosshairs. Ratchet calms Crosshairs the best he can with the situation going on and lets him stay in the exam room with Drift. Crosshairs doesn’t wait for the three medics to leave before crying. “I just think how Jamie still feels alone even with how close the three are,” Jasmine sighs. Ratchet hugs her. Both worry about the two mechs. Hating there’s nothing he or Rung can do to help the two mechs.

Crosshairs realizes he’s been neglecting himself as he now has a terrible headache and feels dehydrated. He can’t stop worrying about Drift and hiding how he’s doing. Jasmine walks in to check on the two mechs. “You ok?” “Headache,” Crosshairs mumbles. Jasmine leaves the room, returning a few minutes later. “Here, this will help,” Jasmine says, handing Crosshairs a small cup of water and a pack with two pills, “he’ll be asleep for another hour.” “I’ll stay here. I shouldn’t use the remaining exam room.” “Ok I’ll be back in an hour.” Jasmine leaves the room. Crosshairs turns off the lights and sits on the floor by the counter. He rests his head on his arms. Tears roll down his face. We deal with her mental health and condition. Jamie has been wanting to be dead, which is causing more anxiety for Drift and I. Now this. It’s getting harder to act ok for Drift, but I have to even if he hates I do this. We both want Jamie to be happy, but it’s been feeling impossible to help her. Now we have to worry about soldiers attacking her.

Crosshairs looks at Drift, seeing his friend sleeping with the little light from the gap in the curtains. I want to say Jamie will be ok, but even if she will be from the attack, she’s not ok mentally. Crosshairs sighs.

Drift stares at the ceiling, having no memory of falling asleep. He feels what he’s lying on, realizing it’s an exam table. The mech is now confused why he was sleeping in the exam room and has no memory of Ratchet telling him he could. He opens the curtains a little before seeing Crosshairs sitting on the floor, asleep. “Crosshairs?” Drift gently shakes the sleeping mech. Crosshairs tiredly looks at him, “you ok?” “Other than a stiff neck, yes,” Crosshairs replies, rubbing his neck. Drift sighs, uncertain if he can believe Crosshairs knowing how he hides how he’s feeling, but he’d rather not argue with his friend as they worry about Jamie. Drift sits beside Crosshairs and puts his head on Crosshairs’ shoulder. Crosshairs takes Drift’s hand and the two sit quietly.

They don’t know how much time passed until they hear Drift’s stomach. “Come on, you need to eat,” Crosshairs says while standing up, “then we’ll see Jamie.” He pulls Drift up and the two leave the room. Letting Ratchet know they’ll be back before leaving.

“They will not like seeing Jamie still needs blood,” Jasmine sighs, “more evidence of how injured she is.” “We can’t tell them not to come here either,” Ratchet says, “that’ll be worse for them.” “They’ll find out about all the stab wounds and cuts,” Jolt points out. “Unfortunately, yes, but let them worry about how Jamie is in a coma and needing blood transfusions. That’s hard enough on them.” Ratchet goes to get another bag of blood.

“I can’t believe this happened,” Ratchet sighs and takes Jamie’s hand, “bad enough you struggle mentally while here rather than feeling this is an escape.” He sits on the chair by the bed, worried about Crosshairs and Drift’s mental decline as they wait for Jamie to wake up. He’s been worried about their mental health as Jamie’s worsens, but he knows how this is causing memories of the nightmare situation to resurface. Ratchet knows he could tell them Jamie will be ok, no chance of declining, but the two won’t be able to relax.

Crosshairs watches Drift struggle to eat. Worried how long before this affects Drift’s energon level and how long before he too struggles to eat. Meanwhile Drift worries Crosshairs is continuing to act like he’s ok. Worried that if Crosshairs can eat, how long before he struggles? Worried Crosshairs forced himself to eat and ends up throwing up.

The two don’t know the terror twins and Lightning watch them from the entrance to the cafeteria. “I hate we can’t help them,” Lightning says. “I don’t think they’d be doing much better if they could forget the nightmare situation,” Sunstreaker believes, “they’re with Jamie much more than we are. They know how much she’s struggling more than we do.” “They think they’re protecting us from feeling the way they feel, but I think we just feel more sadness in place of the anxiety they feel,” Sideswipe adds. The three leave before they’re spotted and go to the medbay.

The three worry about seeing the larger bag of blood on the IV pole. They know Crosshairs and Drift will not like seeing that. “You don’t think she’s bleeding internally, do you?” Sideswipe whispers. “Ratchet would have made sure she wasn’t by now,” Sunstreaker replies, “it’s not reassuring knowing the issue is blood loss from her injuries.” Lightning and Sideswipe sit on the chairs while Sunstreaker stands behind them. They notice her blood pressure is low on the monitor and it wasn’t a few hours ago. Hoping this is normal and Ratchet isn’t failing to notice internal bleeding. Lightning lifts the blanket, seeing Jamie’s wrapped abdomen and more stitched wounds. The twins also see this. “Damn, I figured it was bad looking at her arms, but this….,” Sideswipe trails off. “That’s why I’m not telling them,” the three hear Ratchet, “they have enough to worry about. They’ll find out how bad the rest of the wounds are soon. Jamie will be awake long before I can remove the stitches.” “Can I please go kill the bastards?” Sunstreaker asks. “No, we need to worry about if this will happen again or if Lily could be a target,” Ratchet replies. “This is so fragged up,” Lightning comments, continuing to look under the blanket. Sunstreaker pulls the blanket down. “It’s depressing enough seeing her arms and her guardians struggling,” he tells her. The three worry about what does Jamie’s chest look like? The thought of stab wounds close to her heart terrifies them.

Crosshairs and Drift walk into the room ten minutes later. Both mechs see the IV bag that looks bigger and has more blood than what they saw three hours ago. Both worry about how much blood Jamie lost and the wounds they can’t see. Sideswipe moves to allow Drift to sit by the bed. It’s been two days. Drift worries. Why is she still needing blood transfusions? Drift makes the mistake of looking at the monitor, seeing Jamie’s low blood pressure. This can’t be good. He worries. Something is wrong for her to get worse now.

“He saw,” Jasmine tells Ratchet as he sits behind his desk. “I was hoping he wouldn’t, but I knew the chance was slim. There’s no sudden internal bleeding. Even with thirty percent blood loss, this delay in blood pressure drop concerns me. For now, the chemical in her blood isn’t delaying recovery.” “Something isn’t right. I think when the four leave, we should do a CT scan.” Though it’s an unusual route, both medics are hoping Jamie is recovering and won’t find internal bleeding. That would delay her recovery and when she’ll wake up.

An hour passes. The three medics watch the terror twins and Lightning struggle to get both Crosshairs and Drift to leave. “They both saw, and are terrified,” Ratchet believes. “Taking Jamie to get a CT scan will add to the fear, but Jasmine is right. We better do one,” Jolt adds.

The three medics tell the friends to stay and what they’re going to do. This worries the three friends and, as Jolt said, terrifies Crosshairs and Drift. The three friends stay with Crosshairs and Drift in Ratchet’s office. Ratchet informs Rung. “I don’t know if I can help them, but I’ll be there in a second,” Rung tells Ratchet.

Optimus follows Rung into the medbay. Worried about the reason for his visit to the medbay. He hates how terrified Crosshairs and Drift are and that the twins and Lightning are more worried about Jamie. As Rung thought, telling Crosshairs and Drift the CT scan is a precaution doesn’t calm the two. Drift hugs Crosshairs, who feels him trembling.  He’s terrified and thinking Jamie will need emergency surgery. Crosshairs realizes. The medics didn’t seem concerned. He’s not overreacting after what we’ve been through and the fear we’ll lose Jamie. What do I say? The others watch, uncertain what to say. The medics could be wrong and Jamie could end up in emergency surgery. “You three don’t have to stay here,” Optimus tells the twins and Lightning, “at least wait in the waiting room.” The three understand what he’s saying and walk down the hall. Optimus looks into the office, worried about the two mechs. “I hate not knowing how to help them,” Rung sighs, “it’s not just the nightmare situation. It’s Jamie’s mental decline also affecting them. The fear they’ll lose her, but watching her fight for her life causes them to be afraid when she ends up in the medbay.” The two go into the office and close the door. Hoping to help Drift without causing more anxiety to Crosshairs.

“Nothing,” Jolt tells the other two medics, as he watches the monitor display what the machine sees. “This is good, but also concerning why this turn?” Ratchet questions, “we’ll put her on medication to raise her blood pressure. There’s no other evidence that she’s still in shock.” “We should tell them she’s doing ok,” Jasmine tells him, “even with her low blood pressure and the wait for her to wake up.”

The three medics didn’t think Optimus and Rung would be with Crosshairs and Drift. By now, Crosshairs is worried about what the three will say. Crosshairs hugs Drift as the four are told about the scan results. “.. she’ll be ok, but I don’t know when she’ll wake up,” Ratchet finishes. Ratchet figured Drift would ask to sleep in Jamie’s room. The cot would cram the room, which would make it challenging to reach Jamie. “He can handle medical emergencies,” Jolt argues, “though I think Jamie won’t decline. Show him the medication we’ve been giving her, just in case.” Her blood pressure is low, but I don’t think it’ll drop to a critical level. Drift believes. Still, I need to be by her. Crosshairs says nothing. He’ll sleep in an exam room if he has to. An exam room wouldn’t be used in the middle of the night compared to the ICU room next door. He hopes this will help Drift get some sleep. “Now, will you two please go relax?” Optimus asks Crosshairs and Drift. “Come on we’ll come back in three hours after dinner,” Crosshairs says and gets Drift to go with him “I’m not lying to them,” Ratchet says once the two are far down the hall. “I know you wouldn’t as much as you hate giving them bad news,” Optimus tells him, “I hope we can end this. Even if it’s been three years since the last time soldiers attacked her, this is fragged up.” Optimus sits by Jamie’s bed. The medics go back to their offices and Rung leaves the medbay. Hoping to check on Crosshairs and Drift.

Crosshairs and Drift return to the medbay at eight. By now Drift is exhausted. He's hesitant to sleep because he fears being awoken by an alarm alerting a medical emergency. 

Ratchet does the last check on Jamie of the night. Drift sees her blood pressure is going up. “One more infusion should be enough,” Ratchet tells him, “her levels are normal, and she doesn’t need another blood transfusion. You don’t have to worry about an emergency.” Ratchet cleans up the supplies and leaves the room. Crosshairs sits on the chair, watching Drift as he kisses Jamie and lies on the cot. Even while he’s looking at Drift’s back, Crosshairs can tell when Drift is asleep. He worries about Drift’s mental health even with the good news the two got today.  Drift is asleep in under five minutes. Crosshairs stays for a few minutes before going to an exam room to sleep. Hoping Drift will do better while they wait for Jamie to wake up.

Crosshairs wakes up, hyperventilating. The sun shines through the window. Crosshairs’ phone says it’s six in the morning. He sits on the edge of the exam table, questioning why he had a nightmare about losing Jamie even after the good news yesterday. This has him worried about Drift. He goes to Jamie’s room.

Crosshairs stands in the doorway, seeing Drift still asleep. He sees Jamie’s vitals aren’t critical. This has him more confused about the nightmare he had. I hope they’ll both do better today. Crosshairs thinks as he continues to look into the room at his friends.

“What happened?” Jasmine asks. “I…”

Jasmine leads Crosshairs into her office. “You ok?” “I don’t know why I had a terrifying nightmare,” Crosshairs tells her, “I don’t know if it’s a glimpse into the future or random. Jasmine doesn’t have to ask for details to know how his nightmare frightened him. Delayed response, as always. Jasmine suspects. Either he couldn’t continue to act ok, or the fear of losing Jamie resulted in the nightmare, even with the good news yesterday. “She’ll be ok,” Jasmine assures him. Crosshairs goes with her back to the room.

Crosshairs sits on the chair as Jasmine checks on Jamie. “Her blood pressure is normal,” Jasmine tells him, “all other vitals are normal. I think she’s done needing blood work. I’ll test her blood.” Crosshairs realizes Jasmine has a vial of blood in her hand. He didn’t see Jasmine get supplies to draw blood. Jasmine looks at Drift before leaving. Happy he’s getting some sleep.

“Everything is good,” Jasmine tells Ratchet as she hands him the paper with the blood work results, “her blood pressure is normal. Would be great if this could tell us when she’ll wake up.” “I know. Could be in the next twenty-four hours or a couple of days.” “Crosshairs had a nightmare about Jamie even after the good news yesterday. I don’t think either of them will be ok hearing it could be two days. I worry about the three of them when she wakes up.” “What a fragging disaster. So glad severe flare-ups are under control. They wouldn't be able to handle those flare-ups happening frequently like they happened the first few years after Vegeta poisoned Jamie. “I don’t think anyone could. The fear she could die.” Ratchet sees Drift still asleep and Crosshairs sitting on the chair by Jamie’s bed. At least Drift is getting good sleep. Ratchet thinks. Hopefully Crosshairs doesn’t deal with any more nightmares.

Crosshairs ends up falling asleep for three hours. With a stiff neck, he looks at Drift. He’s getting good sleep. Crosshairs thinks. After not sleeping well the past two days and I know he’s been tiring quickly with how anxious he’s been. “You have to stop sleeping like that,” he hears Ratchet before realizing the mech is standing next to him, “you want to feed her? I was waiting for you to move, but it’s already ten.” “I’ll take care of her.” Ratchet hands Crosshairs the supplies and leaves the room.

Before Crosshairs can do anything, he watches Drift move on the cot under the blanket. He waits a few minutes. Watching Drift slowly wake up. He smiles as Drift looks at him, hoping Drift will not worry that something is wrong. Crosshairs tells him what he was about to do and lets Drift feed Jamie. The two stand by the bed, hoping Jamie will wake up. Worried about after she wakes up as they look at her arms. They are certain she has wounds on her legs and abdomen and worry there are wounds on her chest. Both are afraid to see if any wounds are close to where the heart is. To see how close the soldiers were to killing her.  “Crosshairs?” Drift asks, not liking how Crosshairs is looking, “frag.” Drift stops pushing down on the syringe pump and puts it on the bed. He guides Crosshairs onto the floor. Worried about how Crosshairs seems unaware. They were close to killing her. Crosshairs thinks, remembering his nightmare. Crosshairs blinks as he looks at Drift, seeing how worried he is. Which worries him. He questions if he passed out. “Crosshairs? Are you ok?” Crosshairs hates how worried Drift is. While Drift suspects Crosshairs acting like he’s ok is backfiring on him. He leans on Drift while the mech hugs him. Drift doesn’t know what to say. This situation is hard for both of them and many others. “Shit, do I need to get a medic?” A familiar voice asks, “should I leave?” The soldier that got Jamie to the medbay stands in the doorway. “No, it’s ok. He’ll be fine.” Drift thought Crosshairs would get up by now. The soldier sits on the chair in the corner, concerned about Crosshairs.

It’s a few minutes before Crosshairs lets Drift get up to finish feeding Jamie. “She’s doing much better,” Drift tells the soldier as he cleans up the supplies, “it’s a waiting game for her to wake up. Then I don’t know. I worry about her seeing all the stitched wounds.” “Are you two ok?” The soldier asks, “I know it sounds like a stupid question.” “I can’t believe there are still soldiers who want to physically attack her,” Drift replies, “mentally is disgusting and Sunstreaker has been trying to warn the soldiers to leave Jamie and Lily alone,” Crosshairs nods to say this is how he feels, “are you ok? You found her.” “I knew she was bleeding heavily, but I didn’t think it resulted from being stabbed and cut many times. It was clear if I found her two minutes later, she would have been in more serious trouble.” The three leave the room and go to the cafeteria.

(skipping parts of the story)

“You’re awake,” Drift smiles, though Jamie is barely conscious. He knows she won’t be able to stay awake for long. He sits by the bed and takes her hand as she watches him. Another way Drift knows Jamie is barely conscious is the lack of wanting the breathing tube out, “you’ll be ok.” Jamie blinks, unable to stay awake, “go to sleep.” Drift kisses Jamie’s forehead. He sits back on the chair and watches Jamie fall asleep. He feels a hand on his shoulder. Crosshairs stands behind him, smiling. “I told you she’d be out of it,” Crosshairs says, “she’ll be ok. Come on, let’s go tell Ratchet.”

The three medics are in Ratchet’s office. They’re all happy to hear Jamie woke up. They knew she’d be back asleep. “I’m going to wait until she wakes up to remove the breathing tube,” Ratchet tells them. “I’m not looking forward to her finding out about all the wounds,” Jasmine says, looking at Crosshairs and Drift. Ratchet sighs, “you guys know why I’ve been waiting to let you two see the rest of her injuries. It’s best to see how before she’s alert. I kept her only in her underwear and bra. She can wear clothes.” The five go into the ICU room.

End of the snippet. I hope you enjoyed it. The full story will be posted here, A03, FFN & Wattpad hopefully soon.

[fletcherwilbury]

@whumpuary Day 7: Lightheaded

Warning for Illness, fever, shortness of breath, broken nose, blood, fainting, bruises, medication

[serickswrites]

Help Me

Warnings: captivity, torture, restraints, head injury, blood, bleeding from the mouth, unconsciousness, rescue, unclear character status

Friend kicked open to the door, knowing that this had to be the one that Caretaker and Whumpee were behind. They just had to be there. Otherwise Whumper had lied and it had all been for nothing. And it can't have all been for nothing.

Relief filled them as they saw the kneeling figure of Caretaker in the center of the room. The room was dimly lit, but Friend could see the chains around Caretaker's wrists and ankles. Perhaps Whumpee was chained to the far wall that Friend could only just make out.

"Caretaker, I'm here," Friend said as they started forward.

Caretaker turned clumsily, their arms staying forward out of sight from Friend. They tilted sideways before righting themself. "Help me," they said weakly.

"I'm here. I'm here. Help is here," Friend said reassuringly as they got closer to Caretaker. They could see dried blood just on the edge of Caretaker's eyebrow. No doubt Whumper had hit them in the head. Hard. "Let's get you out of here." They froze as they finally could see what had Caretaker kneeling.

Whumpee lay alarmingly still in Caretaker's arms. Their eyes were closed and blood covered their shirt. Blood trickled in a steady line from their mouth. "Whumpee?"

Caretaker shut their eyes as they listed sideways once more. Friend gripped their shoulder tight, keeping them upright. "Just....just a little lightheaded. Don't worry about me. Help me. Help me help them." Caretaker opened their eyes once more. Their eyes begged Friend to help.

"What happened?" Friend started to break the cuffs on Caretaker's ankles.

"Whumper. Whumper happened." Caretaker never looked up from Whumpee's face.

Friend opened their mouth to say something, but Caretaker's words had them shutting their mouth. "I wasn't strong enough," Caretaker said through tears. "I'm so sorry, Whumpee. So sorry."

Friend worked silently while they freed Caretaker. They had no words. There was nothing they could say that would make things better. They weren't sure if they had made it in time for Whumpee. They had made it in time for Caretaker. And somehow, as they listened to Caretaker's wailing, that wasn't enough.

[rpf-bat]

SHOUT AT THE DEVIL

Pairing: Taz Fagerström/Samy Elbanna

Word Count: 1,464

Summary: When a boating accident threatens to put Samy in an early grave, Taz is willing to do anything to save him.

Johnny is a witch, and he knows there might just be a way to give Taz what he wants. But, he also knows that the devil won’t grant a desperate wish like his without a steep price.

Tags: Drowning, Temporary Character Death, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Demon Summoning, Demon Deals

[lokiswife-dark-fox-queen]

@vbecker10 @gigglingtigger @sapphira-mydnyte

[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

[zenlesszonezero]

Join Zenless Zone Zero with Tsukishiro Yanagi, the deputy leader of Hollow Special Operations Section 6! Beneath her ordinary office lady exterior lies a meticulous, emotionally intelligent big sister to the team.

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Whumpuary Day 7-8

Prompt: Lightheaded

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None

gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams

This was brutal. On the road, boots dragging over the pavement in the hot Georgia sun. No supplies. No game to hunt. A meager amount of water. In the tournament of survival, your group seemed to be on the losing side. You were all exhausted, sweltering, and easily agitated. 

Daryl was no exception, probably the most volatile with the exception of Sasha. He continued to refuse your attempts at making him drink, reasoning that his share go to Judith or Carl. You were quickly losing patience with his repudiation of his own wellbeing. It infuriated you that he continuously put himself last, acting as if that was the price of admission into your little apocalyptic family. 

“Daryl, you need to drink.” You stepped into his path, pressing the canteen into his chest. “Don’t argue with me. I swear, I will sit on you and pour it down your throat.”

The archer seemed to mull over your words, his eyes darting back and forth between yours. Any hope you had managed to gather during his moment of consideration was quickly shattered when he sidestepped around you with a mumbled m’fine. 

You were quick to block him again. Well, as quick as you could be with exhaustion and hunger gnawing away at you. 

“This is bullshit, Daryl!” You thrust the canteen at him once again. “You’re important too!” He smiled at your concern, not a genuine one. It was a weak attempt at reassurance. 

“M’fine.” He was gentle when he pushed away your offering. Right on cue, baby Judith began to fuss from her little carrier on Carl’s back. You spared a glance, a mere heartbeat, and he was gone when you looked back. Silent as a ghost, only the lingering sway of branches as evidence of his departure. With an inward sigh, you walked over to Rick and handed him the canteen with a nod toward his children. 

The slow but steady march had once again begun when Daryl appeared next to Rick. You were just behind the deputy, watching your archer with narrowed eyes. Something was off. His steps were sluggish, in stark contrast to the way he kept his chin raised and shoulders back. You longed for him to allow himself to be vulnerable, just once. Admit he was human like any of the rest of you. Admit he was tired or thirsty, that he needed to stop and rest. 

When Daryl staggered sideways, your hand immediately went to Rick’s shoulder; a careful movement that alerted him. He glanced back at you and followed your gaze, turning his head toward the hunter. Daryl had already found his footing, but was looking down at the pavement while shaking his head lightly. 

You hoped that someone else asking would be the catalyst to his admittance of being the opposite of fine as he automatically claimed each time you expressed your concern. Rick didn’t break stride as he walked closer to Daryl, who didn’t seem to notice at all. 

“You alright, brother?” 

Rick’s voice suddenly in such close proximity appeared to startle him, his head snapping up to reveal a dazed expression. Wide blue eyes narrowed, not in anger but confusion. He blinked quickly a few times and dropped his gaze back to the pavement. 

“Mhm.”

“We can stop. Take a break.” When Daryl didn’t answer, the other man stopped walking with a hand grasping the archer’s forearm. “Hey, let’s take a break.”

“Ain’t needin’ no break.” Daryl seethed, snatching his arm away. He stumbled but only slightly before continuing ahead. 

Rick was watching him when you came to stand at his side. “He’s not okay.”

“Yeah.” You replied inside a sigh. “He’s gonna drop, Rick. I can’t get him to drink anything.” Daryl’s gait was off. He carried himself by sheer force of will, veering left and then right without seeming to notice. “He’s punishing himself.” You said after a moment. When Rick looked at you, you were already looking back at him. “For Beth.”

A nod was shared and then the trek began again. 

Later, the sun was at its highest, the unforgiving heat taking its fury out on the lot of you. You had stripped off your t-shirt, the camisole underneath providing enough coverage that you weren’t embarrassed. Everyone who could remove something with the hope of some relief had done so as well. Except, of course, the ever stubborn, self destructive archer. 

This time, you sent Carol after him when he disappeared to hunt game and water. When she stepped back onto the road without him, you couldn’t contain the hope in your eyes. It was quickly shot down by a shake of her head. 

Goddamnit, Daryl. He didn’t appear for a while, longer than usual, worrying you sick. You were ready to have his head on a platter when he emerged from the foliage and took the lead. Fingers combed your damp hair away from your face more out of frustration than an attempt at some sort of relief. You knew you looked like a parent preparing to scold their child when you began to stomp toward the man who was currently the single source of your worry and agitation. You were almost just behind him when he staggered, a palm slapping against his forehead. This time, he wasn’t able to catch his balance and descended hard to one knee. 

“Daryl?” Annoyance forgotten, you dropped down beside him, concern intensifying into something more akin to panic as you watched him blink fast, close his eyes; rinse and repeat. “Hey, talk to me.”

“Just a lil’ lightheaded. Need a minute s’all.” He needed more than a minute, damn him. His lips were cracked, tongue dry as a bone when he attempted to wet them. 

“Let’s take a break.” Rick, crouching on Daryl’s other side, suggested in a hushed tone. 

The archer growled and gave a valiant effort toward standing, only to fall back to both knees. “Lot’a light left. Should keep movin’.” 

“No.” The deputy raised his brows, clearly not considering that option. “You’re dead on your feet. Rest. Drink.” He offered his own bottle, pushing it toward Daryl with an expression that indicated he wasn’t asking. 

You reached for the container, jutting your chin toward the rest of your comrades. Rick nodded and gently clapped a hand over Daryl’s shoulder with a squeeze. He left the two of you there, trusting your ability to get through to the archer. 

“Let’s go sit in the shade.” You left no room for argument, extending a hand toward him once you were upright. He looked at it but didn’t take it, pressing a palm to the hot pavement to force himself to his feet. When he tilted backwards, you were quick to grab his arm and prevent him from smacking his head on the unforgiving ground. “Come on.” 

Daryl allowed you to lead him to a large tree, a little ways away from everyone else. Having several concerned gazes on him would be nothing but a hindrance, and he desperately needed to rest and hydrate. You plopped down first and patted the ground next to you. Your irritation was already ebbing away, extinguishing entirely when you saw him struggling to lower to the grass without tipping over. 

“Drink.” You handed over Rick’s water and nearly sobbed when he took a sip. The archer tried to hand it back, stopped short by a shake of your head. “You haven’t had any. Catch up. Take your share.” After a moment, he lifted the bottle to his lips. The relief was almost overwhelming. “I’m not gonna bitch at you but you really need to take better care of yourself.”

He scoffed, toying with the bottle cap between his fingers. “M’fine.”

“If you say that one more time, I’m going to drown you in the first body of water we come across.” You managed to sound completely serious while brushing his sweaty hair off of his forehead. “At least try. For me?”

Daryl stared at you, lifting the bottle halfway and pausing there. “Okay.” He took another sip, already feeling a little less like a walker. “For you.”

[whump-and-other-misfortunes]

Whumpuary 2024 Day 7

7. (Jan 13-14) "I didn't know where else to go" / Bruises / Drugged 

cw blood/injury, betrayal, villain whumpee, hero caretaker 

"What happened?” Hero demanded as they helped Villain to the couch. Their nemesis all but collapsed onto it, breathing strained.  

“They fuckin’ ditched me,” Villain gritted out. “My team. Used me for the mission and then left me for dead.” 

Hero swallowed hard and tried to suppress their anger as they took in Villain’s black eye and the bruise forming on their jaw. They didn’t care that they were supposed to be enemies. They didn’t care that Villain was bleeding all over their nice couch or that they shouldn’t have even known where Hero lived in the first place. All they cared about was making this right. “Superhero did this to you?” 

Villain nodded weakly. They tried to shift into a more comfortable position, but the movement caused them to groan in pain and clutch at their side. “Yeah,” they said. “I’m sorry, I know you hate me but I—I didn’t know where else to go.” 

Hero sighed. “I don’t hate you. And I definitely don’t want you bleeding out in an alley somewhere, so...I’m glad you came here. Even though I’m kind of freaked out that you know where I live.” 

Villain managed to laugh at that. “What kind of nemesis would I be if I didn’t keep tabs on you?” 

“Right.” Hero rolled their eyes. “Just hang tight, okay? I’m gonna grab the first aid kit.” 

When they returned, they knelt in front of Villain and went to work cutting away the torn remains of their suit, which was soaked with blood (the halfhearted “At least buy me dinner first” went unacknowledged.) Hero drew in a shaky breath when they were able to see the extent of Villain’s injuries—bruises covered their skin along with dozens of smaller cuts and a few gashes that looked sickeningly deep. 

“Shit,” Hero muttered, nauseated at the sight. “I can’t believe Superhero would do this. I’m going to kill them.” 

“I think one of my ribs is broken.” Their voice had dropped to a whisper. “Feels like it’s stabbing my lung.” 

Hero reached up a hand to cup Villain’s cheek. It was supposed to be comforting, but their trembling fingers smeared blood on Villain’s face. “You're gonna be okay. I’m sorry, I know it hurts.” 

Villain looked down before shutting their eyes quickly and letting out a small whimper. “Fuck, that looks bad. Oh my god.” 

“Do not pass out on me,” Hero ordered. “I’m going to clean and stitch these, and you’ll be fine. Then you can rest while I hunt down Superhero and knock their teeth out.” 

[tildeathiwillwrite]

Whumpuary 2024 No. 7

"I didn't have anywhere else to go" | Bruises | Drugged

Whumpuary Prompt List

TW: kidnapping mention, bruises, drugged whumpee, exhaustion, fight mention, experiment mention

Whumpee stumbled through the city during the pre-dawn hours of the day, their progress severely hindered by strange exhaustion and bolstered by a panicked desire to keep moving. Nobody else was around, which was… good?

It was good. Other people would try to call the police.

The last thing Whumpee wanted to do was to get the police involved.

Because… because Whumper… Whumper would find them. That’s right, Whumper would find them. Whumpee didn’t want that.

Their thoughts moved slowly through their head as if swimming through honey. So it took them a few seconds to realize how silly it was that they had to remind themselves of what they did and didn’t want.

A spike of fear lodged in Whumpee’s stomach, prompting them to pick up their pace. They had to get to safety. 

They had to get to Caretaker.

As the thought crossed their mind in slow motion, it came bearing the sly bonds of doubt. What if Caretaker didn’t want to see them? That was the last thing Whumpee had said to Caretaker when they’d left after their fight. If I see you again, it will be too soon!

Whumpee paused, leaning on a nearby lamp post to catch their breath. Their face reddened with shame at the memory. They couldn’t remember what had sparked the argument, but it had escalated until Caretaker had said something… something unforgivable. Whumpee almost berated themself for not being able to remember before realizing that that was probably a good thing.

The fight was in the past.

How long in the past, Whumpee didn’t know. They weren’t sure how long they’d been held captive; their sense of time had been warped significantly by Whumper’s experiments. Whumpee groaned softly and pressed a hand to the side of their forehead. The bruise, put there by a furious Whumper at Whumpee’s lack of obedience, ached at their touch. 

I can’t have been held more than a couple days, they mused sullenly, but I have no way of knowing.

And right now, it didn’t matter. Whumpee needed someplace to hide, and Caretaker was the only person they could reach.

Motivation sparked, and Whumpee began walking again. Or tried walking. It ended up being more of a drunken stagger than actual steps being taken. Whumpee stumbled over an uneven patch of stone but caught themself on a convenient bench. If they fell, they suspected they wouldn’t be able to get themself to their feet again.

And then Whumper would find them.

And they would have to start all over.

No.

There would be no starting over.

Whumper would make certain Whumpee couldn’t escape again.

Whumpee quickened their pace. They needed to get to Caretaker before it was too late. Thankfully, the building where Caretaker lived was only another block away. Whumpee pressed the button for Caretaker’s apartment.

The ancient speaker above the list of tenants and buttons crackled. “It’s two a.m., asshole!” Caretaker snapped blearily. “You got the wrong place.”

“Caretaker?” Whumpee mumbled, leaning heavily against the wall.

A beat of silence. “Whumpee?!” Caretaker shouted, the cry immediately followed by a thump. The speaker crackled again. “What the hell are you doing here?!”

Whumpee couldn’t tell if they were angry or joyful. “I…” they hesitated for a heartbeat before shoving past their doubts. “I need your help. I… I didn’t… I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

The door clicked as it unlocked. “I’llberightdowndon’tgoanywhereplease!” Caretaker instructed, words moving so quickly that Whumpee barely understood them. The speaker crackled again before turning off. They stared at it before easing open the door and slipping into the lobby.

It was only sheer force of will that kept Whumpee upright at all. They would’ve collapsed long ago otherwise. But as they waited for Caretaker, their energy drained away like water in a leaky bucket, and they couldn’t stand any longer.

Caretaker rushed down the last flight of stairs to find them collapsed to the ground, still conscious but rapidly fading. “Oh hell,” they muttered before sprinting to Whumpee’s side. “What the hell happened to you? We—we need to get you an ambulance!”

“N—no…” Whumpee mumbled. They were… so tired. Their eyelids were as heavy as rocks. “You… you can’t… call the hos…hospital. They’ll… they’ll find me… and take me away….”

Caretaker’s eyes widened in horror. “What?!” 

“Please…” Whumpee begged, the edges of their vision darkening, “please… don’t let them… please….”

If Caretaker responded, they weren’t conscious long enough to hear it.

[suspensefulpen]

Whumpuary Day 7: Kneeling

TW: Captivity, Torture, Chain Restraints, Dehumanization, Pet Whump, Conditioned Whumpee, Collars

@whumpuary

“Kneel.” Whumper demanded.  

“Never.” Whumpee bit back. A fist sent his head in a different direction, knocking the wind out of his chest for a brief moment. 

“I’ll ask again. Kneel.” 

“Make me.” The same fist went into his stomach, cutting his breathing off once again. He wheezed, leaning over in pain. Whumper wrapped her hand around his throat, stopping him from breathing altogether. 

“I’ll ask you again. And if you don’t listen, I’ll be doing more than just punching you.” 

That was how the first few weeks of Whumpee’s captivity went. Everyday, Whumper came down and demanded the same thing every single time. Kneel. Whumpee hated that word. Then one day, Whumper came up with some bright idea. 

“I’ve been thinking lately.” She spoke as if she wasn’t preoccupied with attaching chains to him. “Since you won’t kneel for me, I’ll force you to kneel for me.” She stepped away to admire her work with a wicked grin. One chain went around his neck, one around each wrist, and one around each ankles. The chains were short. If he tried to move it would cause him pain or choke him. He’d be kept in a kneeling position as if he were a statute. Whumpee didn’t know how long he’d been stuck like that. Was it days? Weeks? Months maybe? Regardless, it hurt like hell and he just wanted it to end. 

Sometime after that, Whumper came into the room with a collar. After putting it around Whumpee’s neck, she started treating and talking to him like a dog. 

“Why did I ever decide to keep you? I should throw you out like a stray. Real dogs learn better than you do.” 

“Bad dog! Do I need to start hurting you again to make sure you understand?” 

“Don’t you want to be a good boy so you can get treats? I’ll maybe even take you on a walk if you’re good enough.” 

Whumper would pace around him in circles for hours. 

After that, Whumpee’s memory was somewhat faded and fuzzy. But if there was anything he remembered it was that demand. 

“Kneel.” 

Without a second thought, Whumpee fell onto his knees. His red, dirty, bruised knees. He couldn’t control it. Even in spite of the pain. He didn’t even realize he did it until moments later, when he looked up at the proud yet evil grin on Whumper’s face. 

“Good boy.”

[medusapelagia]

Running From The Daylight - Part 12

Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9,Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, (coming soon Part 13, Part 14, Part 15)

Written for @whumpuary

Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Prompt: Rescue TW: romanticization of death Words: 1065

The fire keeps crackling behind them, but it's getting thinner and thinner, soon only the burning embers will be left and Eddie can't find the strength to get up and feed the fire more wood. They have been snowed in for almost two days, and even if talking with Wayne boosted his morale a little, now Eddie feels hopeless again. Steve is badly hurt and the weather is getting worse, there is no way the rescuer will be able to get there soon if the road is still covered in snow.

In his troubled sleep, Steve whines a little and Eddie shushes him, kissing his forehead.

"You are good... we just have to wait a little longer..." Eddie whispers on his lips, feeling like a liar. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he has almost accepted that rescue will not come, or at least it will not get there in time. There is something sad and romantic in dying together and being found like the embracing couple in Pompei that he saw in a picture during high school.

Eddie tries not to linger on these thoughts, but it's hard not to. He opens Steve's mobile phone and writes a quick message to Wayne.

I love you Wayne.

Then he turns the phone off and tries to sleep, next to his boyfriend.

***

The first thing Eddie hears are the voices, calling their names.

For a moment he wonders if he is asleep and the voices are just a dream, but when catches a glimpse of the torch lights he breathes a big breath of relief.

"They are here! Steve! They are here!" He shakes his boyfriend, but the chestnut haired boy remains unconscious in his lap. Eddie stares at him wondering if he should stay with him, but resolves to begrudgingly leave him and get outside to call for help.

The air is freezing, and it's snowing again "Here! We are here!" Eddie yells in the dark, and when finally the lights turn in his direction he starts to sob, falling to his knees, crushed by the emotions.

"Are you hurt?" One rescuer asks him while gesturing something to another.

Eddie shakes his head, while the second rescuer gets to him and wraps him in a thermal blanket "My boyfriend..." He musters to say between tears.

The rescuer holds him tight, smiling "Don't worry, we will take care of both of you. What's your name?"

"Eddie. My name is Eddie." He whispers.

"Hi Eddie, I'm Donovan. Would you let the doctor have a look at you?" The man asks, dragging him away from the chalet but Eddie starts to trash around.

"Steve! Steve is inside and is injured!" He screams, still crying.

The two rescuers share a look, then Donovan turns and asks him "How do we get inside safely?"

Eddie tells him that the bathroom window is safe and that Steve has a broken leg and maybe a concussion.

The two rescuers talk with each other and they decide that Donovan will try to get in the chalet and if it's safe enough, the doctor will join him, while the other rescuer tries to convince Eddie to get on the ski stretcher but he keeps refusing, his eyes glued to the bathroom window, waiting for Steve, but all he can see is Donovan's head, calling for the doctor and a stretcher.

It takes forever, but when finally Eddie sees the stretcher coming out from the window he runs toward it, calling Steve's name; the boy is still unconscious and in the torchs' light looks even paler, tugged into the golden space blanket.

"We have to bring him to the hospital as soon as possible." The doctor says, checking on Steve's pulse "He has a bad fracture and he is developing a chest infection."

"But he will be ok, right?" Eddie asks, staring blankly at the doctor who doesn't answer but calls two of the rescuers, asking them to bring Steve down to the ambulance with the ski stretcher and get him to the hospital as soon as they can.

The two rescuers nod, take their ski, and start descending taking Steve with them.

"Can you ski?" Donovan asks Eddie, who shakes his head meekly "Ok. Then we will wait here for a bit, ok?" He tells him, guiding him toward a sheltered point "Have you eaten?"

"Not really."

"I have a few energy bars if you want one."

Eddie isn't hungry, but he knows that he has to eat something so he nods and takes one of Donovan's energy bars.

"Nice place." The rescuer says, trying to make small talk "Do you like mountains?"

"Steve, my boyfriend, he is a very sporty guy. He wanted to go hiking. We were getting ready and then we heard a sound and I moved toward the window... Why did I get closer to the window? If I hadn't Steve would be ok!" He mutters, crying even harder, feeling the ice-cold air on his cheeks.

"Eddie, it was an accident. It's not your fault. Ok?"

Eddie rubs his eyes, wiping his nose on his jacket's sleeve "Steve..."

"Steve will be ok. I'm sure that my team already got him to the hospital and they are taking good care of him." The man shows him a sat phone "Anyone you would like to call?"

Eddie takes the phone in his trembling hands and calls Wayne, who answers at the first ring.

"Eddie? Is that you?"

"It's me."

"Are you ok? Hopper called and told me that the rescuers found you! Are you ok? Where are you? I'm coming to get you."

Eddie tries to take some deep breaths to ground himself before answering "I'm still at the chalet. There are some rescuers with me but it's still snowing so they skied to get here. They got Steve out and they brought him down with a ski stretcher. He was so pale, Wayne... I'm scared... I'm scared I will not see him again!" He finally admits, crying on the phone.

"Listen to me, kid, everything is going to be ok. Just stay calm and let the rescuers do their job." Eddie hears the sound of a closing car's door "I promise you I'll be the first person you'll see as soon as you get to down, ok?"

"You promise?" He asks in a voice so little he almost feels ashamed.

"I promise."

[whumpers-monthly]

Whump calendar 2023

Attention: I will delete the prompts in all the months except December next month to make room for next year. If you want to save the whump calendar 2023 you should do it now. Also check out my new blog @whumpcalendar where I will post the calendar from now on.

So I made a calendar and @thewhumpyprintingpress made a checklist for all whump events. Let us know if you're hosting an event so that we can add you.

All events under the cut.

So far we've got:

Whumpers-monthly by @whumpers-monthly One prompt every month.

2023 Year of Whump by @soheavyaburden A prompt can either be filled each week or each month, runs the whole year.

January: Whumpuary by @whumpuary 10 sets of prompts

February: Febuwhump by @febuwhump

March: March Trope-A-Thon by @amonthofwhump 7 days of prompts

April: Whumpril by @whumpril

May: Whumpay by @whumpay Mediwhump May by @mediwhumpmay

July: Whumpmas in July by @whumpmasinjuly

September: Whumptember by @whumptember Sicktember by @sicktember

October: AI-less whumptober by @ailesswhumptober Angstober by @angstober Whumptober by @whumptober

November: Comfortember by @comfortember

December: Whumpcember by @whumpcember 12 Days of Whumpmas by @whumpmas 12 sets of prompts Winter Whumperland by @amonthofwhump 1 - 12 of December Hurtcember by @hurtcember Merry Whumpmas by @whumpishprompts

We will add all the other blogs as soon as the promptlists are available.

[whumpsday]

Happy new year! January has arrived, and with it, a whole new year of whump events and writing events in general!

January events starting today:

❄️ Whumpuary (@whumpuary), prompts here, a 30-day / 15-prompt whump event (one prompt every two days)

💬 Fic Comment Writing Month (@faficowrimo), info here, a challenge to comment on every fic you read during January

February events starting next month:

🐝 Febuwhump (@febuwhump), prompts here, a 29-day whump event

🐺 Witcher Whump Week (@witcherwhumpweek), prompts here, a 7-day fandom whump event

🪐 Star Wars Whump Week (@whumpspacesw), prompts here, a 7-day fandom whump event

🦹 Villaintine's Day (@black-rose-events), prompts coming soon, a single-day hero/villain event where whump is stated as welcome

Have a fun time reading, writing, and creating art in the new year!

Full list of whump events here

[serickswrites]

Shot Through The Heart

Warnings: gunshot, wounds, blood, magic

“NOOOOOOOO!” Hero roared as Villain collapsed as Civilian’s gun went off. This could not be happening. They had finally, finally admitted their feelings for Villain. They couldn’t have  this all ripped away from them. 

“Oh,” Villain sighed, hands going to the bullet wound in their chest. They fell forward as blood flowed rapidly from the wound.

Hero immediately rounded on Civilian. “HOW DARE YOU!”

“It’s Villain,” Civilian squeaked, “I’m a hero.”

It took everything in Hero not to destroy Civilian right then and there. “You better run. Run far and hide well because if I find you,” Hero said darkly as they looked at Villain’s still body, blood pooling around them, “death will not be good enough.”

Civilian paled and took off running. 

With a sob, Hero dropped to the knees beside the fallen villain, blood soaking though their pant leg. “No, no, no. Please, no.”

They flipped Villain over, knowing full well that Villain was dead. Civilian had shot Villain in the heart. There was no way Villain survived. Villain’s face was still, eyes open and empty. Hero’s worst fears were confirmed. 

“I am so sorry,” Hero whispered as tears obscured their vision. “I...I...I should have told you sooner.”

Villain coughed in their arms, convulsing as coughs wracked their frame. “Villain?” Hero blinked away the tears. 

Villain blinked up at Hero as the wound in their chest knitted closed. “I,” cough, “knew.”

“How?” Hero could not believe their eyes. 

Villain waggled their eyebrows up at Hero. “Magic."

Hero leaned down and kissed Villain. “I don’t understand,” they said as they finally pulled away. 

Villain grinned. “I’m indestructible, love.”

[snakewrites-and-ink]

Tags for browsing this blog

General/Organizational tags:

#concepts/thoughts - content that's not written out as a scene or story. May include prompts, ideas, statements about what trope is rotating in my brain, or other things.

#writing - My fiction writing; includes drabbles, scenes, chapters, etc.

#5 sentence fics - very brief drabbles about 5(+) sentences long. (Will often go to 6-7 sentences since usually at least one of those "sentences" is a fragment and/or already written for me by the prompt.)

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#chapter - A chapter in a longer work of fiction.

#series - anything that's part of a series/WIP of mine. or has to do with one (includes meta posts about that series)

#nameless drabble - uses placeholder names ("Whumper" and "Whumpee," "Hero" and "Villain," etc.)

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Work/Event/Series-specific tags:

#technically not human - general tag for the Technically Not Human (working title) series

#oc nolan - tag for Nolan (main character of Technically Not Human)

#asher the it pet - general tag for the Asher the IT Pet series

#oc asher - tag for Asher (main character of Asher the IT Pet)

#oc mark - tag for Mark (Asher's Master)

#oc dan - tag for Dan (Asher's caretaker coworker)

#whumper turned caretaker cyoa - general tag for the Whumper-turned-Caretaker CYOA

#whumpuary2024 - drabbles written for the Whumpuary 2024 event

#whumpay 10 days 40 words - five sentence fics written for Whumpay 2024's 10 Days, 40 Words mini challenge

#mwm2024 - five sentence fics written for The Merry Whump of May 2024

Some additional tags (for specific tropes and sub-genres) I use: #pet whump, #living weapon whump, #heroes and villains, #brainwashing, #conditioned whumpee, more will probably be added in the future

I'll do my best to tag anything exceptionally triggering, but I won't often tag every other applicable content warning. I rely more on content warnings I include in the body of the post in my writing. I do not typically write content warnings in my concepts/thoughts posts because they're not as descriptive. Just want you to be aware of this.