#“I paced around for hours on empty; I jumped at the slightest of sounds.” | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Tumblr’s reach among the 26-to-35-year-olds in the US is 11%.

#“I paced around for hours on empty; I jumped at the slightest of sounds.”

evillittlebirdie · 7 months

Text

Refuge: Tav/Rolan

Lia and Cal deserved better.

One day, they would have it. Lia and Cal could have stability and the resources to pursue if Rolan could provide for them. Most importantly, Rolan needed to protect them. And not let some flitting hero come in to save the day. Instead of Rolan, Tav was the one to save his siblings from Moonrise Towers. Tav even saved Rolan when he went out on his own. How he hated that sweet, clueless look on her face when he lashed out at her. That damn, lovable, dashing rogue did what Rolan couldn't do and she did it without breaking a sweat.

And if Rolan needed to go through Lorroakan's education to ensure his competency, then he would.

***

"Wrong."

But Rolan knew he was right.

"Master, I do not mean to disagree with you, but-"

Lorroakan raised his hand, and a sudden gust of wind left his hand. Rolan lost his footing and fell on the floor. His head hit the wood, causing a sudden ache. Lorroakan walked over to him, standing over the tiefling. "Now, I'll ask you again. What can disable an animated armor?"

"Sussar Bloom," Rolan replied breathlessly. Even if Tav hadn't regaled her story of exploring the Underdark, he would have known sussar bloom was the correct answer.

"Wrong," Lorroakan repeated. Lorroakan delivered a vile, physical kick to Rolan's ribs. He could feel the trauma spreading along his side. Rolan let out a cry before scrambling to his knees. That was a foolish move.

Once Rolan moved to his hands and knees, Lorroakan stepped on Rolan's left hand. Rolan hissed in response. Each move to pull his hand away caused Lorroakan to dig deeper into the extremity.

"If you scratch my floor with your claws, I will personally rip every one of them out," Lorroakan threatened darkly. Rolan stopped moving, keeping as still as a statue.

"I am your Master. And I am always correct. If I say the sky is purple, then it is purple. If I say that you are a pathetic tiefling, then you are not fit to lick my boots," Lorroakan pontificated, twisting his heel more and more into Rolan's hand.

"Master," Rolan struggled to speak despite his aching head, bruised ribs, and trapped hand. "I only just-"

Lorroakan interrupted him, "I don't recall asking you a question. I merely reiterated the reality of your situation. If you have an issue with my teaching methods, you can leave. You can hawk cheap magical items and whore out cantrips like the pathetic performers in the street. I'm very sure that you'll support your family that way."

The facetiousness of Lorroakan's words dripped like venom from a snake. Lorroakan moved his boot from Rolan's hand. Instantly, Rolan stretched out his fingers and wrist. He could barely move. The pain shot from his dorsal up to his elbow.

"You're welcome to resign if you don't want to be my apprentice. And you'll be just another refugee in this city taking up space," Lorroakan said, stepping back from Rolan. He gestured toward the study's door, "There is the exit. Go, and you'll be free. And I'll see to it no other wizard on the Sword Coast will take you on. You'll be lucky to find a job sorting scrolls in a library. However, if you decide to stop being a brat, you can get started on reading and memorizing the fifth volume of Fringe Philosophy."

Rolan's eyes darted to the door and then to Lorroakan. The wizard had walked away, leaving Rolan on the ground. He walked to his desk and sat down. There was no further direction.

Lorroakan didn't need him. There was a line of eager apprentices willing to subject themselves to his methods. Rolan was replacable. And Lorroakan knew that. Rolan swallowed bile and his pride. He stood up on his feet and ignored the stars in his peripheral vision. He walked over to the bookshelf to pull out the book and started reading.

***

Rolan should have met Cal and Lia for dinner hours ago. The night was pitch black and most shops were closed for the day. Rolan had been in Baldur's Gate long enough to know his way through the streets. The alleyways were dangerous, but private. He didn't have to hear the words of anyone passing by. He could lean his body against the stone wall and concentrate on the throbbing sensation on his belly. His fingers ran down his side, wincing as even the featherlight touch grazed the spot where Lorroakan kicked him.

Lia and Cal were worried about him. And yet Rolan could not bring himself to face them.

The drunks were stumbling on their way home. The barkeepers were hollering, "Last call!". Sex workers had claimed their clients. Thieves had successfully stolen their quota from witless victims.

Rolan traveled through the streets, subconsciously rubbing his wounded hand with his healthy one. He couldn't face his siblings. Yet he could not return to the tower.

"There you are!"

Rolan pulled his staff off his back, putting himself in a battle-ready stance. Anyone who approached him in the middle of the night in an alleyway was looking for trouble. But instead, he came face to face with Tav's cheerful, pleased expression. Rolan could not control his reaction. He jumped back from Tav's body, almost knocking himself back into the alleyway. "Must you always sneak up on people?" Rolan asked, stilling his rapidly beating heart. He returned his staff to his back.

"I was worried you'd run off or something. You don't exactly like me," Tav stated bluntly, looking over the man.

Rolan swallowed uncomfortably. It wasn't that he didn't...like Tav. He just wished she would mind her own business. And stop showing him up. Otherwise, she was lovely.

Now, where did that adjective come from?

"Cal and Lia asked me to find you. You were supposed to have dinner with them about eight hours ago," Tav pointed out, shifting on her feet.

"Well, you can tell them I am fine. I just...I was busy," Rolan gave a poor excuse, knowing that Lia and Cal would give him an earful when they finally got him alone in a room.

"Ah, yes, busy hanging out in alleyways. Not even a nice alleyway. This one smells like piss. Don't tell me you're searching for ingredients for potions or whatever magic crap you wizards do," Tav rambled on, her eyes still on Rolan.

That would have been a much better excuse.

"Can't a man walk around a city? It's not like I was in any danger," Rolan commented, lashing out in self-defense.

"No, we just have a serial killer roaming the streets. Other than that, Baldur's Gate is as safe as a garden meadow," Tav replied sarcastically. But her sarcasm was not biting. It was in jest. She gave Rolan a small smile, "Look, I know you can take care of yourself-"

"You must not. Given your rescue mission in the Shadowlands," Rolan pointed out.

"Noted. The next time we find ourselves surrounded by shadows, I will wait patiently until you ask for my help," Tav stated, rolling her eyes playfully. She was still smiling. How could she still be smiling? "I'll just relay to your siblings that I found you and you're okay. And I'll leave you to..." She looked around the alleyway before setting her hands on her hips, "Whatever...sulking...wizard...male...tiefling shit you are busying yourself with." She avoided eye contact with Rolan before she commented, "You know...if you ever wanted company on these...brooding outings, I'm free."

Thoroughly insulted, Rolan responded bitingly, "I don't need a bodyguard."

Tav huffed frustratedly, "Not as a bodyguard, you ass. As a friend, a companion. Maybe someone who would guide you away from the alleyway and to a restaurant instead. At least the smell of piss comes from the beer. For an intelligent man, you are an idiot."

Rolan quite had it with being humiliated. "I don't have to stand here and listen to you berate me. Maybe that's why I want to be on my own," Rolan snapped before walking by Tav, leaving her behind in the alleyway. As he took a few steps, he mulled over what she said to him. 'away from an alleyway and to a restaurant instead'. He frowned, bemused, before turning back to Tav.

Rolan smiled, amused, at the sight of Tav already beginning to climb the walls of the alleyway. She was taking her leave.

"What did you mean exactly, by taking me to a restaurant?" Rolan inquired.

Tav paused her hand on the shingle of the nearby roof. She stared down at Rolan, her smile now returning to her face. "You know...you and I haven't had a proper conversation. I thought forever that you hated me."

Rolan could feel his cheeks warm, "I...I don't hate you."

"Well, I know that now. Your siblings made that clear."

Rolan fully blushed now. Cal and Lia teased him mercilessly. Whenever Rolan muttered about Tav, they giggled. They called it 'schoolboy love'.

"That's why I suggested a restaurant. We could have a proper conversation. And if you don't like me, then at least you get a meal out of it. My treat," Tav offered, now swinging her body back and forth on the edge of the roof. There had to be a story behind Tav's comfort with Baldur's Gate.

"Well, I suppose that we could..."

"I'll take that as a yes!" Tav called out, her voice loud with excitement. "It's a date. I'll pick you up from the tower tomorrow. No backing out. It's a date," She beamed before hopping up on the roof. And within seconds she disappeared into the night.

Between the events of the day and night, Rolan was swimming with emotions. Maybe it was some rational part of him that allowed him to smile. He rubbed his hand again. The pain had lessened. He would be able to write with it soon. Rolan could only hope to please Lorroakan and be free by the time Tav arrived for their date.

Wait...

What...

"...A date?"

#whumptober 2023 #no.7 #“I paced around for hours on empty; I jumped at the slightest of sounds.”#radio silence #alleyway #“can you hear me?”#bg3 #rolan/tav #abuse tw #fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 rolan

36 notes · View notes

one-piece-aus · 7 months

Text

Whumptober Day 7

Uta

"Uta." Luffy popped his head in the treehouse, smiling when he saw his friend there sitting against the bark. "Uta!" He climbed onto the platform, going over to her. "You won't believe the treasure we got today-" Luffy paused, seeing the girl has made no reaction. He pouted and began poking her cheek. "Uta... Uta... Can you hear me?"

"What are you whining about now, crybaby?" Ace grunted as he climbed into the treehouse, followed by Sabo.

"Uta sleeping so I can't tell her about the treasure we got," Luffy huffed, sitting in front of her with his arms and legs crossed.

"Just wake her up dumbie."

"I can't, she's a heavy sleeper."

"Eh? Seriously?" Sabo looked surprised. "But she always wakes up if we move too much in our sleep." He scratched his head looking at their sister.

"That's different," Luffy stated.

"How?" Sabo asked, only to receive a shrug from Luffy in response. Sabo deadpanned.

"Just yell in her ear like we do to each other." Ace went over to Uta.

"Wait, Ace don't-" Luffy tried to warn Ace but he already moved Uta's headphones.

"AHH!" Uta jumped awake, fearful eyes darting everywhere.

"Uta, Uta, calm down, you're just with us." Luffy reassured her while Ace rubbed his ears.

"Luffy?" The girl focused her gaze on him, slowly her heart rate return to a regular pace. She placed her hands over her ears, frowning when nothing were covering them. "Who took my headphones." All eyes fell on Ace who is currently finding that catapiller climbing the wall to be very interesting.

"Ace..." Sabo's tone hinted that the ravenette should probably apologize.

"Okay, I did it." Ace held out the headphones. "I didn't think anything bad would happen."

He took a step forward, creaking a floorboard. Instantly, Uta hissed in pain as a thousand needles stung her ears. Using one hand to snatch the headphones as the other attempted to ease her ears, she hastily snapped the device back over her ears, sighing in relief.

"Don't do that again," Uta said, glaring at Ace.

"Why are they so important anyways?" Ace asked.

"Her ears hurt from all the noises everywhere if she's not wearing them," Luffy bluntly states pointing at her. Uta was about to protest but shut her mouth when Luffy technically explained it. The strawhat boy then turned the singer. "Can I tell you about the treasure we snagged today now?"

Uta nodded and Luffy cheered, leaving the other two brothers with more inquiries about their sister.

Tag: @roseoftrafalgar @bookandyarndragon

43 notes · View notes

highcaliberstupidity · 7 months

Text

Whumptober day 7 Radio Silence Rating General Cw's/Tags Farah has trust issues after Hadir, set between MW2 22 and Atomgrad Raid Characters Farah Karim Summary

One transmission had been made from the depths of the bunker, that it was more than expected. And Alex, the stupid, brave man he was, had chosen to delve deeper. And now he was MIA, missing in unknown and undocumented territory. They had no knowledge, no idea if any of the squad was even still alive. No count on hostiles, not even a hint to who it might be. But there was someone there, someone smart enough to circle back and cut Alex and his team off. And that left Farah with a call to make.

It's no surprise that COMs went dark.

If it really was a nuclear fallout shelter, then the depth and miles of concrete alone would make it impossible to reach anything more than sightline communications.

Not to mention whatever, or whoever might be under the earth with them.

She knows Alex is smart enough to have set up a communications line, stringing his personnel along the way to ensure they could keep communication through the mission as well as having a direct link back to command, to Farah .

Somewhere, that line had been cut.

One transmission had been made from the depths of the bunker, that it was more than expected. And Alex, the stupid, brave man he was, had chosen to delve deeper.

And now he was MIA, missing in unknown and undocumented territory. They had no knowledge, no idea if any of the squad was even still alive. No count on hostiles, not even a hint to who it might be.

But there was someone there, someone smart enough to circle back and cut Alex and his team off.

And that left Farah with a call to make.

The right course of action would be to send another team with her allies to delve in and find them. The right choice, would be to trust this to Laswell, that she would find her people and bring them home.

But trust did not come easy to Farah anymore. Not for a very, very long time.

The blade of Hadri's betrayal still cut to this day, leaving the laceration deep and with ragged edges. To put her trust into someone else to find those so important to her was simply something she couldn't give.

She barely even trusted herself with it.

So she would take the road others would urge her away from, she would go herself, and trust the ULF to her commanders. Either way, she would be leaving her family unguarded somewhere, she only had to choose which.

But she trusted her brothers and sisters and cousins here, trusted them to care for themselves and those around them if not for her, then themselves.

They would stand without her, and she would bring the others home.

Or she would die trying.

#whumptober 2023 #“I paced around for hours on empty; I jumped at the slightest of sounds.”#Radio Silence #“Can you hear me?”#call of duty #writing #No major cw's or tags #Farah has trust issues after Hadir #angst #emotional whump #farah karim #Not my best or my favorite #but #these are for fun so i'm not gonna sweat it

3 notes · View notes

kalira · 7 months

Text

Morbid Meanderings

Written for @whumptober Day 7! (theme: “I paced around for hours on empty; I jumped at the slightest of sounds.” prompt 1: Alleyway prompt 2: Radio Silence prompt 3: “Can you hear me?”)

T; 2.1k Kei & Sho

Kei might lose himself - willingly, it seems, at times - in the dark wanderings of his own mind . . . but Sho knows without trying just the words he needs to hear to guide him back again, to show him the importance he holds.

This one (adjusted from, but) written off a suggestion from @penguinmusings!

#Whumptober2023 #no.7 #“I paced around for hours on empty; I jumped at the slightest of sounds.”#Alleyway #Radio Silence #“Can you hear me?”#Moon Child #fic #Kei and Sho #Kei #Sho #Kalira writes #Kalira writes; Moon Child #Morbid Meanderings #penguinmusings #Whumptober

1 note · View note

whumpsday · 7 months

Text

K&J: Kane's Whumptober Bites #7

Chronological masterlist / Writing order masterlist

content: vampire whumpee, captivity, stewing in fear, starvation, aftermath of torture

@whumptober Day 7: “I paced around for hours on empty; I jumped at the slightest of sounds.” / Radio Silence

Silence was safe at the hunters’ base. Silence meant that no one was coming for him, that he had time to rest. And more than anything, Kane valued his quiet time alone.

It was never a surprise when the hunters came for him. As a vampire, his hearing was exceptional, as was his sense of smell. He was meant to be the hunter, the predator. Now that he was the prey, it worked just as well to let him know when danger was on its way, not that he could to anything to protect himself from it.

Footsteps on a staircase, raucous laughter, angry muttering, a heavy metal object scraping against concrete. All sounds that now sparked an insurmountable terror within him, roused him from exhausted sleep so he could kneel in waiting or huddle in the corner.

There were false alarms, of course. Hunters socialized on the floor just above him, their voices familiar from his most painful memories even when they spoke of things entirely unrelated to him. He could make out the tone, but not the words. One stepped toward the stairs and his whole body locked up, waiting to see if their footsteps retreated upstairs, or validated his panic and descended closer.

Kane was a vampire. He was a predator. He was starving. His body urged him to get closer, closer, ignorant of the cell he was trapped in, crying as he turned up the feast waiting so near. His mind cried the opposite, praying for the sounds to fade away as the humans stayed as far from him as they could get.

Someone high-fived a friend, and he flinched below, alone in his cell.

#whumptober2023 #no.7 #i paced around for hours on empty; i jumped at the slightest of sounds #radio silence #oc #fic #captivity #starvation #kane and jim drabbles #kanes whumptober bites #whump #my writing #vampire whumpee #vampire whump

84 notes · View notes

serickswrites · 7 months

Text

"Slightest of Sounds"

Warnings: explosion, injury

Caretaker clutched the radio in their hand. They hadn't let go of it since Whumpee had gone into the building to try and negotiate with Whumper. Hadn't stopped clenching it in their hands as the Whumper detonated the bomb in the building with Whumpee still inside. Hadn't let go of it as they screamed and screamed for Whumpee to respond. Hands around Caretaker's chest had stopped them from running in the building. But they never stopped calling for Whumpee.

But Whumpee's radio was silent.

That was hours ago and Caretaker still hadn't left the scene. It was clear that Whumper had never been there and it was a trap for Whumpee. Caretaker felt like they had been so stupid falling for this. For letting Whumpee go in alone.

Static crackled across the radio. And Caretaker thought they heard a sound. "Whumpee?" Caretaker whispered as the radio crackled to life in their hand.

"Can.........anyone.....hear......me?" Whumpee's voice was garbled and distorted by the radio, but it was Whumpee.

"Whumpee!" Caretaker shouted, relief filling them. "Whumpee, I'm here! I can hear you! Whumpee."

"Care......r," the radio cut out mid word, "I....don't.....know.....where........am."

"That's ok, Whumpee. Help is on the way, just hold on, Whumpee."

"'old...g," Whumpee's voice crackled across the radio.

#serickswrites #whump #whump writing #whumpblr #whump community #tw explosion #tw injury #whumptober 2023 #whumptober #whumptober day 7 #“i paced around for hours on empty i jumped at the slightest of sounds”#prompt: radio silence #prompt: “can you hear me?”#queue

58 notes · View notes

iriel3000 · 7 months

Text

#000000

Summary: #000000 - Black, the absence of any color on a screen. Part 1 of 3

Whumptober day 7: “I paced around for hours on empty; I jumped at the slightest of sounds.” | Radio Silence

Natasha whump, light whump, emotional whump

AN: THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO READ, LIKED OR/AND COMMENTED ON Hurry, She Needs You. I appreciate your support so much !!💘💘💘

“Natasha.”

Steve was surprised to see her jerk at the sound of his voice. Rarely did anyone sneak up on the Black Widow.

Dressed in plain, black leggings and a purple sweatshirt that looked too big to be hers, Natasha sat with her knees up on the ledge of the Tower roof. Worry lines creased her forehead and the dark circles under her eyes stood out against her pale skin.

Natasha Romanov was the most determined, self assured person Steve knew, but right now, she looked...lost.

“I’m sorry, Nat, we haven't heard anything. I just came to check on you.” He sat down beside her, hating that he didn't have better news.

Seventy-two hours had passed since Hawkeye's last check-in. No word, no cryptic message, no ransom from the enemy. His comms were dead and their radar hadn’t been able to detect him or the signature from his arrows.

Steve held out an apple. Natasha refused.

“Name one thing you've eaten in the last two days.”

Reluctantly, she accepted it. But instead of taking a bite, Natasha drew her arm back and whipped the apple across to the opposite rooftop.

“They put a damper on me. I'm not allowed to leave.”

“I know.” Steve said.

"Word travels fast."

“I'm the one who gave the order.”

“What?!” She leapt to her feet. “How could you?”

Steve stood with his hand up.

“I would do the same to him if it were you. We sent a recovery team, Natasha. They will find him.”

“If it was Bucky, we wouldn't be having this conversation. I would be stealing a fucking jet for you!” She paced back and forth, glaring at him as if he betrayed her. "They don't know what they're doing. They don't know how he operates, or where his safe houses are. I’m his partner, I can find him.”

"Nat..."

Steve's phone chimed.

He hid the caller id, doing his best to put on a neutral expression.

"Rogers."

Natasha watched his face for the tiniest of clues.

"I understand. We'll be right down." He hung up.

"Fury?"

"Maria, she needs us downstairs."

"Why?"

"She'll explain when we meet her."

"Is it about Clint?"

"We need to go, Nat."

"Don’t. Don't do that to me, Rogers. What happened? Where's my partner?"

Steve had trouble meeting her eyes.

"Tell me what happened to my husband!"

part 2 cont'd on day 11

#whumptober2023 #lyric #no. 2 #I paced around for hours on empty I jumped at the slightest of sounds #radio silence #the avengers #clintasha #fic #emotional whump #hawkeye #black widow #steve rogers

33 notes · View notes

dresden-syndrome · 7 months

Text

24/VI-1963. KGB division unit B-8, Saxony region, German Democratic Union Republic, EESU.

Tomasz turned his head towards the loud, rough sound of footsteps. For him, that meant danger. Someone's coming. Someone's coming for him. There's nothing good to enter.

As long as Tomasz was kept in the lab, the only times he'd feel relieved hearing footsteps were feeding hours. Back then, at the prison, nothing was ever known, fixed or certain. At times, he wasn't getting any food or water for a few days, having to drag his weakened, bruised, aching body to the faucet each time he wanted to drink. In the lab, on the other hand, life was bound by a strict schedule. This hour to eat, that hour to sleep. If you won't, you'll be fed and sedated the hard way. A few bulky books on the table and Radio Wrocław playing far in the hallway. Everything was painfully predictable, except for one little thing. Experiments. Nobody knew when the doctors would take them, as well as why, for how long and would they even return.

He couldn't stay in a locked room forever, yet even a slightest sound made him flinch. The footsteps were getting closer. Too late. No time to hide. He could feel his breath getting faster, body freezing with fear, bracing for what is to come.

The opening door made Tomasz flinch one more time. A neatly looking man in a Soviet uniform stood in the doorway, holding a weird blue stick in his right hand. The man had a rather relaxed, lively, even friendly appearance - nothing like the pale, scrawny, constantly tired scientists or the loud, gruffish officers in the detention. No matter what. It's a military man. He's not to be trusted.

-Good morning, little one. How are you doing?

The Soviet officer introduced himself. He spoke with a strangely light, calming voice with a notable accent - speaking Polish clearly was a struggle for him - yet Tomasz still couldn't move a muscle, still alert and afraid.

-Don't worry, sweetheart. You're not in the lab anymore, - he made a few steps forward, carefully observing his new possession, - I will take care of you from now on.

Tomasz stayed silent. What did it mean - take care of? What will he do? He couldn't believe his lab days were over, he was out of there, he made it out alive. Yet he wasn't released, neither he'd ever be. From the moment Tomasz got classified as a class 4, his life and freedom was over. He was aware of it very well.

-Listen here, - the officer stated, setting a first rule for the boy to know, - For you, I am the boss here. You will have to do what i say. Understand?

Failing to receive anything more than a little nod, he stared into Tomasz's eyes.

-You understand, little one?

-...Yes, sir - Tomasz muttered.

On the next move, the Soviet man pointed at the prod in his hand, slowly moving it towards his new pet's leg.

-Look at this.

A sudden bolt of pain struck the back of a leg, forcing Tomasz to let out an involuntary scream. It was burning to touch. Frightened again,he retreated to the bed corner, further away from the painful thing.

-Does it sting that much? - the officer condescendingly shook his head.

-Listen, if you don't do as told, if you act out, I'm afraid I'll have to use it on you. Now, be a good boy and stay quietly in the room. I'll be back soon.

When the door shut again, making a key-locking sound, overwhelmed and confused, with a stinging feeling on his leg as a new owner's reminder, Tomasz curled up on his bed as tears rolled down his eyes.

Day 4 and 7 of Whumptober

Prompt: Cattle prod / "I paced around for hours, I jumped at the slightest of sounds"

Art taglist: @painful-pooch @prismpanic @generic-whumperz @suspicious-whumping-egg @onlywhump

#whumptober2023 #no.4 #no.7 #cattle prod #i paced around for hours on empty i jumped at the slightest of sounds #oc #art #medical malpractice #electrocution #historical whump #pet whump #military whump #whump #whump community #whump art #whumpblr #whump oc #captive whumpee

35 notes · View notes

bearsinpotatosacks · 7 months

Text

I'll Haunt This Ship (To My Last Breath) - Whumptober2023

But now the room is spinning while I'm trying to fill in all the gaps - I paced for hours on empty; I jumped at the slightest of sounds

Scotty gets electrocuted on the job. It's lucky Bones is good at his job.

For day 1 & 7 of @whumptober . Also on AO3.

Words: 710

Bones tapped his foot as the turbolift landed in the engineering decks. As soon as the doors open, med kit in hand, he bolted off toward where the crowd of people had formed around Scotty. He pushed them out of the way, there were way too many people here, and saw where he lay, not breathing, on the floor.

“Move back, all of you,” he said, kneeling to the floor and feeling for a pulse.

There was none.

“Has anyone done anything?”

The crowd shook their heads. Amateurs. You’d think a group working in one of the most dangerous parts of the ship would know at least some first aid. Even the security officers knew how to see to a phaser wound.

He moved his head over his face to feel him breathing and felt nothing again. “How long has he been down?”

“Two minutes,” said an Ensign.

He rolled up his sleeves. Despite all their medical advancements, CPR was still the only way to revive someone who’s heart had stopped. Apart from concoctions made from a mad mans blood, but resurrecting Jim was a one time thing, at least he hoped.

“Right, Scotty, I’m sorry about the ribs.”

He placed his hands on the breastbone, the heels over where his heart was and began to press down hard. The crowd flinched when the ribs began to crack and splinter. He didn’t flinch. The only way CPR properly worked was if you broke a few ribs, it meant you were getting through to the heart properly.

“Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty.”

He focused on his head. Tilting it back, he pinched his nose and gave one deep breath, waiting to see if his chest moved, and it did. He did one more breath but didn’t see any signs of life.

“Can you hear me?” He said as he carried on with compressions. “Scotty, can you hear me?”

No answer. He carried on with the compressions, starting to appreciate all the times Jim made him go to the gym, because without those horrible arm workouts, he probably wouldn’t have the strength to do CPR for too long.

With Scotty still not responding, he lent his head back and did two more breaths. His chest rose but didn’t carry on. He didn’t open his eyes.

“Don’t give up on me Scotty,” he said between compressions. “I think the Enterprise would stop working if you died, or you’d start haunting it, one of the two, and I don’t like the thought of either.”

As if the thought of anything happening to the Enterprise had pulled him from the brink, he jolted upright, eyes wide open and heaving in deep breaths. He lay a hand on Bones’ shoulder as he guided him on breathing easier.

“How many fingers am I holding up?” Bones asked him, waving his hand in front of his face.

“Three?”

Bones nodded. Scotty moved his hand to his chest as he tried to get up.

“Why do my ribs hurt?”

Bones looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll explain later.” He said. “Now to sickbay, come one.”

He put his arm around him as they headed back to sickbay. Scotty limped, still holding his ribs as he did. The doors opened with a swoosh, some of the ensigns shouted good luck and gave him thumbs up, it was nice to know Scotty was more well liked with his staff than he was.

“Do I have to go to sickbay?” Scotty asked as the turbolift shifted upwards.

Bones rolled his eyes, “You literally died.”

“I’ll be fine!”

“No, you’re at least getting a check up, if not a full night in sickbay, and tomorrow off.”

“But-”

“No buts, now come on.”

The turbolift dinged as they reached sickbay. Scotty sighed as he walked him in and placed him on the bed. A nurse came over and began doing some tests as Bones took some readings.

“At least I can get caught up on my engineering journals.”

Bones just nodded and added a tourniquet to his arm. Tapping the IV bag, he made sure there were no bubbles in the bag or the tube, before pushing the needle into the vein and shutting him up.

“Anything to get you sitting still, Scotty.”

Can you tell I've started watching ER? One of my main gripes with that show is how light their CPR is? In one episode they feel bad for breaking ribs when I swear that's the point. Also don't take any of this as medical advice, I have no first aid training apart from ER. I have learnt how they put IV's in, also from Wikihow. But between getting into Top Gun and 2023 whumptober, I've kind of forgotten what equipment is canon in Star Trek and what's made up in my mind, lol. Thanks for reading! @whumptober-archive

23 notes · View notes

ice-cap-k · 7 months

Text

Pan-Pan

I, uh, really got carried away on this one...

Cross-posted on AO3 here: Pan-Pan

_______________________________________

“Pan-pan, pan-pan, pan-pan.”

No answer. Tango twisted the dial on the CB radio.

“Pan-pan, pan-pan, pan-pan. Is anyone out there? This is an urgent distress call from Engineer and Supplementary Technician Tango Tek, calling from the underground testing Bunker 2. Two days ago, warnings went out for a total reactor collapse at Bunker 3. The event led me to the decision to cut power to Bunker 2. Presumably, all other facilities are down. Our major operating systems are barely running and the event inflicted severe damage to many minor systems. Emergency operating systems have kicked in, including the safety back-ups put in place to lock down the compound in case of a leak. Unlocking mechanisms are unresponsive when a manual override is attempted. Total damage assessment is impossible…”

Tango trailed off.

He should throw decorum to the wind. He was getting sick of this. Two days alone trapped in the basement of a bunker would do that to a man. Two days of sending distress call after distress call over the radio, never to get a response back. Two days of flipping back and forth over forty channels, waiting for a response that never came. Two days of not knowing what had happened out there.

An entire reactor had supposedly gone down. The fallout had to have been immense above ground. He should consider himself lucky, but he didn’t feel very lucky. The reinforced concrete walls that encased Bunker 2 were just as capable of keeping unwanted radiation out as it was of keeping radiation contained. But that also meant he was trapped down here alone with an inactive reactor.

It had been days. There may not be anyone left to care about proper call signs.

“Well, I’m requesting an immediate response. Bunker 3 operational status compromised. Bunker 2 operational status is critical. Please respond. Please…” There was no answer. Just the muted buzz of radio static in his ears. “Pan-pan, pan-pan- oh just forget it.” In a flare of anger, Tango grabbed the microphone hanging off the headset and ripped the whole thing off. The padding on the speaker pulled painfully at his ears as they came off at an awkward angle. “I’m still doomed,” he huffed, dropping his head onto the desk. His forehead thumped against a keyboard, rendered useless without power to run the computer it was attached to. “Doomed with a capital D and extra death sauce.”

The radio only hissed unhelpfully in reply. Tango bumped his head against the desk a second time for good measure. The wood surface didn’t feel fantastic, but he let his head rest there for a while, not quite focusing on the curve of the grain.

Get a grip, Tango. You’re not dead yet. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Focus on what you can hear. The static of the radio. He should probably turn that off to conserve battery, but he can’t be bothered to reach out and flip the switch just yet. Behind that is the hum of massive amounts of water being piped into the coolant systems. The steady drip drip drip of water droplets falling somewhere in the background. He let out another deep breath.

The situation could be a whole lot better right now. There was no getting past the door and getting out of here. Not unless he had a way of getting through the steel plating on the walls or clearing out the hallway leading to the maintenance hatch. The one that had collapsed when the building started shaking. He wanted the number of the fool who did the math on that side of the structure’s factor of safety. Austenitic stainless steel was supposed to be able to withstand entire explosions. Clearly, their stress calculations were off for something that was supposed to be designed for seismic activity. That, or someone had cut corners during construction.

He had been working on the hallway when he could. It was a mess of concrete and twisted metal. Clearing it out on his own would take a stupid amount of time, but if he could just see what had gone wrong then he might be able to repair it.

Still… He could hold out down here until then. Nobody knew how this place ran better than him. He had managed to switch off his bunker’s reactor on his own and didn’t come across any issues. You know, besides the obvious ones.

The remaining dregs of power in the bunker could be diverted to dropping the control rods, effectively cutting off the power output. He still had the generator too. Most of its power output was reserved for the radiation detectors, water-level monitors, and pumps. A very small amount of power went to the red emergency lighting, but even that had to be carefully monitored. Even a downed reactor took a lot of power.

Especially when it came to keeping the fuel rods cooled. That’s the thing about radioactive substances. They’re always emitting neutrons. And sure, you can catch those neutrons with control rods before they blast other particles to bits, but you’re not going to catch all the heat that comes with ‘em. You use water for that instead.

Water was his most precious resource down here. Yeah, it’s great for drinking and as long as the faucet ran he had plenty of that. But running water also works great for catching excess heat. And that water had to keep moving in order to do that. That’s why reactors had entire networks of pipelines and water pumps in place, shunting massive amounts of the stuff to be superheated and then brought back to the cooling tower.

Keeping up with the pipe maintenance for this place was taking most of his time. It was probably the only thing keeping him from dying a very horrible death.

All of this just to justify that he had barely started clearing the way to the maintenance hatch and instead chose to prioritize calling for help. Both of which were starting to feel like fruitless endeavors.

It was all fine and dandy for now until he ran out of food, the generator gave out, or the water shut off.

Wait a minute. Tango blinked, pulling himself from his thoughts, only just now noticing the large knot in the oak wood beneath his face. Hadn’t he heard…

Drip.

Drop.

Drip.

Oh no! Something was dripping!!!!

Tango flung himself back out of his seat so quickly, that the chair went clattering to the floor. In an instant, he had snatched his toolbox off the floor and a mask off the hook on the wall. He threw open one door and barreled through another, desperately looking for the noise coming through the cracked open windows. Then he took the perforated stairs two at a time. They groaned in protest with every step of his steel-toes.

Panicked thoughts raced through his head. If one of the Inconel pipes were leaking, there wouldn’t be much he could do. He could weld- scratch that. No, he couldn’t. There wasn’t enough power to run welding equipment down here. Switch off the valve, maybe? Depending on the location there might not be a valve he could shut to keep water out. Not if it was in an important location. He could always seal off the room and hope for the best.

Drip.

Drop.

The spent fuel pools lit the room with their own greenish-blue light at the bottom of the steps. The dripping was a little louder here, though, which made Tango’s already racing heart tighten anxiously. The fuel rods at the bottom of the pool cast a ghostly underglow on the piping running across the ceiling. There was no telltale glimmer of radioactive droplets falling from above. Nor were there growing wet spots on the floor. The surface of the pool was as clear and flat as a sheet of glass. All was still and empty and cold.

Where could the sound be coming from?

He followed the noise through a pair of double doors he had left propped open. They lead out of the pool room to a prep locker room and emergency wash station.

The place was empty, save for a few protective suits left lying on a nearby bench. The angry red glow of the emergency lights made the spare sets of gloves and boots stick out like shining red beacons in a sea of matte paint and cement flooring.

He caught a dark spot on the floor in the corner of his eye. When he whirled around, he saw a slow red trickle coming from the base of the chemical shower, drip-dropping into a gradually growing puddle beneath it. His own eyes stared back at him from its surface, glowing crimson in the emergency lights.

Oh. False alarm. It was just a little tap water.

The wave of relief that washed over him at the sight was immediate and immense. It made his knees shake. He couldn’t help but laugh at his own panic. “HahaHA! I’m so dumb! Hehe.”

Sound sure could travel in this place. Best he gets this fixed up before he could forget about it. With a thud, he dropped his toolbox onto the floor. The Teflon tape had worked its way to the bottom, but the wrench he needed was near the top. He fished them both out and went to work sealing up the leaky threading on the pipe.

Despite the easy work, he couldn’t seem to calm down. He’s wound so tight, it felt like he might come unraveled. The flickering red lights weren’t helping either. Here he was, terrified by a few water droplets, struggling to fix a pipe he could barely see.

Somewhere deeper in the plant, there’s a loud thunk as one of the pumps switched off and another one whirred to life to pick up the slack, and he nearly dropped his wrench at the sound.

“There. All fixed.” The pipe was no longer leaking. He didn’t bother to clean up the puddle beneath it. Doesn't dare make eye contact with his reflection again. Instead, he tossed the Teflon and the wrench back into his toolbox and brushed his hands against the legs of his pants.

"I should go for a walk. Do something else to take my mind off things. Get back to work in that hallway or something…" With a sigh, Tango picked back up his toolbox and went back up to the office.

The radio is still where he left it on the desk. The headphones are still hissing away dutifully, waiting for someone to send something worth hearing over the airwaves. He must have forgotten to shut it off before he ran out. "Any luck," he asks, not even bothering with the receiver. "Anyone out there?" A response would have been nice, but he doesn’t expect one. There's no one to respond. Just white noise. Too tired and anxious to be angry about it anymore, he grabbed the CB radio and tucked it under his arm so he could carry it with him to the ruined hallway.

Who knows. Maybe someone will start calling while he's working?

____________

Four days down here and Tango has barely made a dent in the hallway’s wreckage. There’s a few places he can stand on the cracked tile now, though. A few piles of dirt and chunks of concrete had been moved deeper into the bunker where they wouldn't be in the way to make that happen.

At least he’s managed to devote more time each day to clearing out as much of the mess as possible. Huh. Wait… Was it actually day? There was no way to keep track of time right now. The clocks didn’t work down here anymore. For all he knew, he might be sleeping during the day and working by night now. Not that it really mattered.

He had settled further into a rhythm that he had started on day two. When he was too tired to keep his eyes open any longer, he passed out in the chair he had hauled up from one of the break rooms. It was small enough to fit in the space he cleared, but not cramped enough that he woke up feeling worse than you would expect from a long day. Then he would send out a distress call over each channel on the radio. Usually, he would move some of the smaller bits of plaster and wires as he called. Then he would run his daily check on the pumps and essential pipelines. Something that had gotten surprisingly easier over time. Not easy, per se, but the pipelines needed less babysitting now that the reactor has been stable and inactive for a while. That and Tango was now used to attending to the areas that regularly needed overseeing by what normally would take a team of people. Sometimes there were pressing issues that required rerouting water lines. Once he was certain there were no more major issues for the day, he would tap into what was left of the food supply in the break room, have lunch, and then haul up enough packaged foodstuffs to get him through dinner after a couple of hours of hauling building bits.

Right now, he was ignoring the rumbling in his stomach as he reached into the wreckage and pulled out something that appeared to be on the lighter side. His hands came in contact with something smooth and elastic. With a yank, he pulled free stretches of hosing and brass fittings. Redstone wires were knotted at one end where they had been soldered to a loose sensor.

“Aww. That’s such a waste.” He felt like a little piece of himself was dying on the inside. He recognized the scraps of the pneumatic hook-up for a vault door he designed. Most likely meant for a high-clearance lab or pressurized combustion chamber. Considering how high he was above most of the steam generators, he would put money on the former over the latter. It would have been built into the wall before the collapse, which meant the pistons and doors would be buried somewhere beneath everything as well. Now it was all useless.

Careful not to let the corrosive redstone drip from their rubber casings, he untangled the rest of the pneumatic tubing from a bent aluminum frame and tossed it into the mess of scrap that would have to be hauled away later.

It always made him feel bad to see good circuitry go to waste. Electronics didn’t often behave as predicted. There were always opportunities for unforeseen events. Sometimes it took a bit of trial and error to get right, which took time, thought, and plenty of resources. He had put a lot of time into that design to make sure it would hold up in extreme scenarios. Made sure that the steel would give out before the pressurized air in the compressors would leak. Done extra research to find materials that would be both nuclear and redstone grade….

His stomach growled again.

Yeah, he couldn’t keep working like this on an empty stomach. Not now that he was thinking about wasted redstone. So he crawled out from the edge of the wreckage and brushed some of the grease off his hands onto the hem of his shirt. By the time he made it to the little pile of junk food he had stolen from a broken vending machine, he was sure the rumbling in his stomach could be heard from the very bottom of the bunker.

He sat down in the little chair he considered his bed and ripped into a granola bar. He had just sunk his teeth into his first bite when a soft TINK made him flinch.

It was the sound of one of the emergency lights burning out. He knew it pretty well after a few previous scares. The red lights weren’t made to burn consistently for such a long time, and who knew how old they were before the bunker was sealed? He could count on both hands the number of lights that had already burnt out. It was hard not to let the sudden noise take him by surprise, though.

It was quiet down here. Not the kind of quiet you feel under a blanket when the fabric eats up the sound. The hollow kind where you can hear a leaky pipe from the floor above, or the steady hum of the generator several floors below. The noisy kind of quiet where you can hear every little thing as if it were right next to you, echoing through empty walls like the ghosts of something that refused to go forgotten.

Still chewing, Tango reached for the CB radio next to his chair. He hung the headphones around his neck and flipped the power switch. The familiar hiss of static flared to life in his ears. It was surprisingly soothing just to have that little bit of background noise. The food went down much easier now that he had it.

Since he was already on the radio, he might as well use it. The needle turned in between bites, switching between channels. “Pan-pan, pan-pan, pan-pan. Anyone out there? This is Tango of the Tech variety-” he stopped just long enough to break into a candy bar. He was well past caring about protocol by now. “Used to be an engineer here in good ol’ Bunker 2. If anyone’s out there, I’m still here. Still trapped.”

He let himself chew into the sugary sweetness of the candy bar. Nothing like a bunch of junk food to make you wish desperately for a nice, warm, homemade meal.

“You know, it’s kinda silly that they make us say these lengthy distress calls. The pan-pan call sign is meant for international transport vehicles. Not testing facilities that fall outside of single government-regulated territories. Besides, it’s not like I’m skadoodling anywhere anytime soon...” He breaks into a heavy sigh. Maybe if they had completed the testing phase he would have been shipped out with the equipment, but there was no way that was going to happen now. “Anyway, if you can hear this, I could really use some help. Tango out.” He knew better than to hold his breath and hope, but he allowed himself a brief pause to listen for something. Anything.

Nothing. Just static.

One more bite and his candy bar was gone. His stomach didn’t feel like it was going on strike anymore, so that was his cue to get back to work. He reached down to flip the switch on the radio.

“T…go…”

His finger froze over the power switch. Had he imagined that? One hand still hovering over the button on the radio, he reached up with the other hand to lift one of the headphones off his ear. The rush of white noise lessened to be replaced with the echoing hum of pumps, water moving through pipes, and not much else.

“..... you st… …ere Tan….”

It was a voice! Tango dropped the side of his headphone as the words filtered through. It snapped back against his head painfully. “Ow! YES! Yes, I’m here, can you hear me?!” he practically shouted into the receiver. The other hand felt along the face of the radio for the nob and twisted it back and forth ever so slightly, hoping to get a clearer signal.

He could have wept tears of joy as the voice replied with crystalline clarity. “Tango! It is you! I can’t believe it. We can hear you loud and clear. I’m so glad you’re still alive, buddy!!”

Wait a minute. He knew that voice! “Zedaph!??”

“The one and only!”

“Oh my gosh!” Tango gripped at the wire of the receiver like the lifeline it had become. He didn’t even notice that his fingernails were digging into his palm. “Oh my gosh, you have no clue how happy I am to hear your voice, Zed. HaHA! Where are you? Is everything ok? What’s going on up there? ”

“Whoah, slow down there for a second,” another voice cut in. “I can’t keep up with all that.”

“IMPULSE!?” The receiver probably couldn’t pick up his voice as his pitch and volume skyrocketed in equal proportion to the rush of relief and excitement that came with hearing another achingly familiar voice. At least he had enough sense to move the receiver back away from his face.

Of all the people it could have been, he was glad their voices were the first signs of the outside world he could hear. They were some of his closest friends, his coworkers, and people who knew this plant as well as he did. Maybe even better. It may have been presumptuous, but he could already picture the three of them going back home together to their families. Of playing video games, of him dragging them along to watch his favorite hockey team, and of chatting for hours about anything other than work like they had already done countless times before.

It was really them!

Zed was the one to answer. “Didn’t catch that, Tango. You’re voice cut out. What did you say?”

“Nothing important. I just… Impulse, you’re there too?”

“There he is again. Yeah! I’m here too. Are you okay? Where are you?”

“I’m stuck down in Bunker 2! Where are you guys?”

The line crackled for a moment. He could hear Zedaph and Impulse’s voice fade slightly as they began to talk to each other. It was a little harder to make out, but their words still came through on his end.

“2!? I thought 2 went down when 3 collapsed?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t stop to make sure before I slammed the door shut.”

“That’s a good sign then. It means it was only 3 that we had to worry about. Thank the heavens he’s still alive.”

“Yeah, but that also means he didn’t get out-.”

‘Uh,” Tango cut in. He could hear the sharp intake of breath from both of them as they realized he was still on the line. “You know I can still hear you, right?”

“...either. Right…” Zedaph finished. He sounded a little guilty, even through the distortion over the airwaves. “Sorry. We’re in Bunker 1. I’m going to be honest, when we heard you over the radio we thought you might be the rescue crew coming back for us.”

“Oh.” Tango’s heart skipped a beat. His stomach dropped so deep it felt like it was gone completely, leaving him a hollow shell. If the receiver wasn’t already attached to the headset, he would have dropped it. He let out an empty laugh, more for the sake of filling space as his brain came to terms with what that meant. “You guys are trapped too.” It wasn’t meant as a question. It was a statement because he knew it was true. Still, Zedaph answered honestly.

“Yeah…”

_______________

Tango was, admittedly, just as disappointed they weren’t part of some rescue party coming back for him as they were when they realized the same about him. Once the initial disappointment gave way, though, he was honestly really happy just to hear from them. If they were all stuck, then at least now they were stuck together. He wasn’t alone anymore. There were other voices alongside his echoing through these empty rooms.

They talked for what must have been hours sharing information about their situation. There was a lot to go over between the two different bunkers and the matter of their circumstances.

Zedaph and Impulse told him that they had locked themselves in Bunker 1. Impulse had been planning on going inside to check on a few parts that were scheduled for pre-emptive maintenance and replacement. Zed had only tagged along to keep him company and tell the other man about his latest plan for game night. The two of them had been taking a casual stroll across the grounds when the reactor in Bunker 3 blew. They were looking in the other direction when the portion of the building above ground started to collapse, but there was no missing the way the ground heaved beneath them. And when they looked up it was impossible to miss the massive cloud rising in the not-so-far distance.

The door to Bunker 1 was unlocked. It was nearby and built to block radiation. Zedaph was the first to realize what they were witnessing. He put two and two together first and realized it equaled, ‘We need to get to safety.’ So he dragged Impulse into the closest concrete building and locked the door behind him. The two of them weren’t sure what had happened above ground after that.

Both of them had been down there ever since. Impulse had been juggling the mechanical systems pretty well, and Zed was charged with keeping an eye on the reactor. Between the two of them, they’ve had a pretty good handle on the situation. As good as two people can manage on their own, at least.

Zed in particular explained that they were hoping to wait for a rescue team to come in. According to him, a nuclear fallout is most dangerous for 48 hours after a blast, but there’s still some risk of radiation and other unforeseen hazards. Technically, they weren’t actually trapped. Not in the sense that Tango was trapped. They were playing it safe by sheltering in place.

In return, Tango told them everything that he could about what had happened at Bunker 2 since the incident.

He told them about how he had been checking in on the new control unit he had designed for the spent fuel pool, killing some time until the rest of the crew showed up. At some point everything had started shaking. The alarms went off and he saw the warnings flash across the announcement screens mounted in the hallways. He told them how he only knew that something had gone wrong at Bunker 3 because of those warnings on the screen. Other than that, he didn’t know what happened.

He told them about how he was trapped underground. That the hallway collapsed and he had been trying to clear a path. That he hadn’t even gotten halfway to the maintenance hatch. He wasn’t sure how long it would take him to make it through all the mess, let alone fix whatever damage had been done that was keeping the way out so tightly sealed.

He told them about how he had deactivated the reactor to reduce the risk of another incident. How he had been trying to take care of the coolant systems on his own.

“That’s crazy. You’re crazy. I’m friends with a crazy person.” A small smile spread across Tango’s lips. His chest swelled with pride at the awe in Impulse’s voice. “You’re telling me you managed all that on your own? Even lowering the control rods? I let Zedaph take care of that over here. I never would have risked it on my own. I don’t think I would have risked it even if I wasn’t on my own and it had been anyone other than Zed.”

“Aw, Impulse, how sweet of you. Good to see you think so highly of me.”

“It’s not like I wanted to,” Tango said. He shrugged as well, but they couldn’t see that. “It’s not like I could just leave it running and risk explodificating my face off. Not everyone is lucky enough to have a Zedaph on hand.”

“You too, Tango!? Oh my gosh, you guys are so sweet. I think I might cry.”

“Besides. I’ve got the gist of a little of everything down here. Just because I’d never done it on my own before doesn’t mean I have no clue how it’s supposed to work.”

“Still, I’d consider you pretty darn lucky so far. I know you’re not very familiar with the heat transfer system.”

“I'd say I’m getting pretty darn familiar now,” he shot back with a chuckle.

“Fair enough.”

Something new crackled through the headset of the radio. It took Tango a second to realize the sound was Zedaph yawning in the background. His own exhaustion came crashing down on him all at once. He had been so caught up in talking that he hadn’t even realized that he was tired until now. They had been at it for a while after all. Who knew how many hours he had let pass, neglecting the debris in the hallway to chatter with his friends like it was another night in the group chat. He couldn’t help letting out a little yawn of his own.

“You too, eh Tango,” Zed mumbled, sounding every bit as tired as Tango felt.

“Sorry guys. I must be getting tired. It’s hard to keep track of time down here.”

“Same,” Zed mumbled around another yawn. “I don’t think we’ve got a single clock working down here.”

Tango was about to say something about not having any clocks in his bunker either but decided against it when he heard Impulse break into a yawn as well. “Hmph. Impulse here looks like he’s half asleep already.”

“I’m fiiiine,” Impulse drawled. “I think the time just finally hit me. Give me a second and I’ll get a second wind. I can stay up all night if you want.” The lazy lilt to his voice said otherwise.

“Nah,” Tango says with a chuckle. “I think it might be time to call it a night. I feel like I’m going to pass out too.”

“Go ahead and get some rest. We’ll get a little shut-eye ourselves. Will you still be available on this frequency if we try to get a hold of you tomorrow?”

“You kidding me? You guys are the only thing I’ve heard on this thing. I’m keeping it on this frequency for good as far as I’m concerned. The others might as well be dead to me.”

That got a laugh out of Zed. It almost drowned out a much fainter noise in the background. Something Tango couldn’t place at first. Something rhythmic and slow, like breathing. Like… “Uh… Is that Impulse snoring?”

“Yeah. He’s already out like a light. Lasted all of ten seconds.”

That was shockingly fast.

“Welp! We’ll keep our radio on this frequency as well. I think I’m going to join Impulse off in dreamland. Have a good night, Tango.”

“Night Zed…” The speakers in the headset remained silent when Zedaph didn’t reply. The silence hung for a heartbeat as his friend most likely reached for the switch to shut off the equipment, and then the familiar buzz of empty static filtered through. They were gone.

The sounds of the bunker came rushing back into focus with the silence. The hum of motors the buzz of the emergency lights and the subtle sound of his own breathing making themselves loud and clear.

Tango found himself curling up deeper into his chair. It was getting harder to keep his eyes open. He let the headset rest in his lap, the bulk of the radio left on the floor within arm’s reach. He had a feeling that tonight would be filled with good dreams.

____________________

The next two days were better. A lot better. It was nice to have Zed and Impulse to keep him company. It was a bit cumbersome to haul the old CB radio around the bunker with him when he went on his rounds, but it was worth it to have them one quick call away. He finally had someone he could bounce his thoughts off of. Impulse was always quick with advice when he was worried about the pipes. Zed was even quicker to make him smile with a joke and wash his worries away when he started panicking about all the wrong things. Weird stuff dripping from a pipe? No worries. It’s just condensation, not a leak. Another light went out? Good thing there’s a whole box full of replacements on the second floor. Tango was even able to help them with some things, like overriding the electronic locks on one of the labs.

Then, as if the world was out to spite him, things started spiraling out of his control.

One of the pumps was losing head pressure, and it was causing a slower flow rate.

In other words, the water in the pipeline was slowing down. Slower pipe-flow meant the water flowing through the reactor would be coming out hotter than it should be. If the pump degraded anymore, the water would stop moving and whatever was in the pipe inside of the reactor would keep heating up. It would eventually become so hot it would try to expand and become steam. The pressure inside the pipe would be immense, and the pipe would probably burst. Tango really didn’t want that to happen.

The thing is, though, Tango wasn’t sure how to fix that. He knew the basics of how to work a pump, but that was about it. He was an engineer first and a technician second. He never had to know the workarounds for keeping a pump running while also improving head pressure that really had no apparent reason to be dropping. If he could reduce the sheer amount of pipe length the water had to go through, that could help. If he could introduce a new pump into the system, that could help. But he didn’t have spare piping or a replacement pump that could keep up with that sort of power. He couldn’t risk shutting down the water for the time it would take to play around with pipe lengths. None of those were possible options right now. He wished someone had left a manual lying around, although it probably wouldn’t be much help.

He thought it might be possible that air was getting into the system. He risked shutting down the pump for less than a minute to check the inlet, but didn’t see any leaks. If air was getting in, there had to be a leak somewhere.

He really hoped that wasn’t the case. He could even partially convince himself that wasn’t the case since he had been monitoring the pipelines so closely. Still, he couldn’t account for leaks occurring in the underground pipes.

So he explained his predicament to Zedaph and Impulse. Mostly to Impulse, since he was the one with more experience on the matter.

“You didn’t happen to add any piping to the system,” Zed asked half teasingly.

“No,” Tango snapped, entirely serious. “I’m not about to go making things worse. I haven’t even tried rerouting the water flow. That will just make the path it travels longer too.”

“How’d the motor look,” Impulse asked over a snickering Zed. “Any signs of it burning out?”

“The motor was fine too, as far as I can tell. There was a weird clanking noise earlier that I couldn’t pinpoint, but that stopped a while ago.”

“Oooh, I bet you the impeller broke.” Tango could practically hear his friend nodding to himself. “One of the fins probably broke off and is floating around in the system.”

Zed snorted on the other side of the line. “That’s a thing that can happen?!?”

“Sure. All parts are made to break eventually. You’re just supposed to replace it before it reaches the end of its cycle life. Sometimes a part has an internal defect that speeds up that process.”

“What am I supposed to do about that then?” Tango asked.

“That depends. Do you have an extra impeller lying around?”

Tango thought back to every storage room he had gone through during his rounds. He had gone through plenty of supply closets while he was stuck down there, looking for spare parts and tools. He would have noticed if there had been a loose impeller just lying around. “No. I mean, I don’t think so. I haven’t seen one down here.”

“What about another pump?”

That was something he had seen. There had been a small pump hanging out of a box. “Yeah actually. A small one. Like, really small. Will that work as a replacement? I thought smaller ones didn’t have as much oomph?”

“Normally they don’t, but if we can hook that one up in succession with the other it can give things a boost.”

“That’s a thing?!?”

“Will the two of you stop that?” Impulse snorted. “Yes, it’s a thing. It will help with the head pressure, and keep the water flowing.”

“That’s all I need.”

“Good. Now go grab that pump. I’ll walk you through the installation.”

“Thanks, buddy. You’re a lifesaver!”

Before he could grab the CB radio and rush off to the nearest supply closet, though, Zed spoke up. “Hey, uh, I don’t mean to be that guy that questions everything…”

“But…?”

“But what about the broken impeller?”

Tango froze. “What about it?”

“Well, it’s still broken. Aren’t there still the broken bits floating around somewhere? I might be wrong, but wouldn’t that cause issues at some point?”

“Well…”

Tango’s heart skipped a beat. “I don’t like the sound of that ‘well.’”

“Ok, yes that is true. If the impeller really did give out, then yeah. There are pieces of it floating around in the pipes. Best case scenario, the water is moving slow enough that it doesn’t carry them very far and they settle at the bottom of some pipe.”

“And worst case scenario…” Tango asks tentatively.

“That’s a bit harder to say, but it is possible it keeps floating around and gets caught in something important. Like the pumps. There’s a non-zero chance it might end up back in there and bust it up even more.”

“Okay…” Tango’s brain started racing. He was already kicking back into ‘problem-solving’ mode. More damage to the pump would mean a bigger drop in pressure. It might even take the pump out of commission completely. “That would be all sorts of bad with extra bad sauce. Is there a filter or something where they might get caught?”

For a moment, Impulse doesn’t answer. Tango assumed the other man is simply taking his time to answer. Likely trying to run through the map of the coolant system in his head. Then Zedaph spoke up. “Use your words Impulse,” Zed says after a pause. “He can’t see you shaking your head.”

“Sorry. I forgot for a second there. I don’t think so. I know they wouldn’t have used a sediment trap, but I’m not sure if they would have added a strainer anywhere.”

Tango could work with that. “Then I’ll look for one. I only have one extra pump. I can’t let one of the ones keeping the water scooting go caput on me. You can describe what it’s supposed to look like and I can check for it after we finish with the other pipe.”

At least there was still a chance that he wouldn’t have to worry about the impeller causing more problems. He was already on the move. The CB radio was tucked uncomfortably under one arm as he walked. He would have to grab his toolbox from the office after the pump, but there was no way he was going to be able to carry everything down at once. He would have to make a few trips, leaving either the radio or the pump downstairs when he went to get his tools.

“And I take it that if there isn’t one, Tango’s still running the risk of more damage,” Zed asked.

“More or less.”

“I see. In that case, I’m going to go crunch some numbers.” A high-pitched squeak like a chair scraping across tile filtered through the radio. The noise was so awful Tango had to shift the ear pads of the headset to hang around his neck.

“Zed, where are you going, man?” Impulse’s surprised shout sounded a little less clear now that the speakers weren’t pressed to Tango’s ears.

Tango silently wished for the umpteenth time that he could see them instead of just hearing them. “What’s happening,” he asked. “Don’t leave me in the dark guessing.”

“I don’t know. He just ran out.”

“Should you go check on him?”

“I… You know what? Nah. He’ll be fine for now. Let’s get you squared away first and then I’ll check in on him after.”

Impulse was probably right. All three of them had a tendency to get lost in their own thoughts and sucked into personal projects. Something they said had given Zed an idea, and he was probably off to go puzzle over it until he could come to his own answers. Besides, he had more pressing matters to attend to.

“If you say so. I’m already at the supply closet anyway. Let’s figure this out.”

________________

“Ok Tango, remember when I said you were crazy? I take it back,” Impulse said. Even over the radio, Tango could hear the sheer disbelief in his friend’s voice. “You’re not that crazy after all. Clearly Zed has you beat.”

“Excuse me, I take offense to that.”

“No Zed,” Tango chimed in. “He’s right. That sounds like a surefire way to get killed. Or lost. Or any number of terrible, horrible things.”

“But not from radiation poisoning!”

“It still sounds dumb.”

“Thank you for agreeing with me on this, Tango.” Impulse sounded really tired. It made Tango wonder how long they were discussing this before calling him.

“But Tango needs help and he’s going to need it soon. I heard about your little ‘I spy’ trip through the bunker. You never found a filter, did you.”

Tango flinched. “No…”

“Nor does he have another pump in case anything else goes wrong. And, might I add that Tango can’t leave whenever he wants like we can. But if we just go and get help-”

“You’re talking about trekking through a nuclear detonation site!”

“It’s been days,” Zedaph insisted a little more firmly. “A week, even. By now the bulk of the nuclear fallout will have passed. The smaller airborne particles will have settled, the radionuclides will have mostly decayed away, and the leftover radiation levels will be fairly low. We shouldn’t go, you know, ingesting anything while we’re out there. Just in case. But I can jimmy together some sealed suits if it makes you feel better. We can pack some food and bottle some water to find help without too much worry.”

“I don’t think we should be jumping to such risky conclusions, Zed. Even without the radiation risks, what about if one of us gets hurt? We’re miles from civilization.”

“If you’re that worried about it, you don’t have to come along, Impulse. It’s alright if you want to stay here. I can just go on my own-”

“Nuh-uh. No way. Don’t even bother finishing that sentence. That’s even worse. Of course, you’re not going alone out there.”

“Good! Then it’s decided. The two of us are going to go find help.”

Impulse made a strangled noise. Tango could just imagine the myriad of emotions flashing across his face. They couldn’t be much different from the clashing emotions he was experiencing.

Personally, he doesn’t like this idea one bit. If they went in search of help, that meant traveling through a stretch of land that could technically be considered survivable but was still recovering from massive nuclear destruction. Who knew how the surrounding area had been affected? And Zed was suggesting they do it for the sake of helping Tango. Tango, who couldn’t go after them. Tango, who would be helpless and unable to do anything if something went wrong. Tango, who would absolutely blame himself for anything bad that might happen, and was already in the process of feeling extremely guilty for making them think they needed to take this risk for him.

If they did this, he would be on his own again. Left alone to live on a prayer.

“You don’t have to do that.” Tango’s voice is shaking. He hopes the static of the radio helps to cover that up on their end. “The pressure is stable for now. I’ve been holding down the fort for this long. I can hold out a bit longer while I clear this hall.”

“It’s not like we can stick around here forever anyway. They’re not coming back for us. ”

Tango can hear Impulse’s breath hitch. He had to suppress a shudder of his own at Zedaph’s bluntness. It wasn’t like the thought hadn’t crossed his mind that they had been left for dead. He had just about resigned himself to the fact before he first heard Zed’s voice through the radio speakers. But it was a thought he had pushed to the back of his mind when he found out his friends were there as well.

“I’m sorry…” Zed’s voice startled Tango out of his own thoughts. His friend sounded sad. Almost remorseful. It made him wonder if it was because of whatever reaction Impulse might have had. “But it’s been too long. The largest risk occurs during the first 48 hours. If they didn’t come looking for survivors after that, then it must be because they assumed there were none left to save. And if they HAD come looking, then they missed us. It’s not like any of us were supposed to be in these bunkers at the time anyway. We were all here early.”

Impulse sighed on the other end of the line. “I guess you do have a point.”

“You’re not actually considering this, Impulse,” Tango asked nervously. He could feel his chest tighten at the thought of them going up there, leaving him behind in his dark hole while they ran into… he didn’t even know what. Danger. Definitely some sort of danger.

“Oh, to be clear, I still think this is a bad idea. But…” Of course, there was a ‘but.’ Why did there always have to be a ‘but?’ “He’s making some good points. He IS the expert on the subject, and I can’t just let him go alone.”

“But if you guys leave, then I’ll be alone. Again.”

There’s a loaded silence where none of them spoke. They don’t have to. Tango could practically hear the thoughts in their head. He just knows them that well. ‘You’re already alone,’ they’re thinking to themselves. ‘We’re not really there. And we couldn’t get to you if we needed to.’ That was the problem with this entire situation after all.

He tries again. “What if something goes wrong with the pump after you leave? I won’t be able to ask you about it, Impulse.”

“We’re going to bring the radio with us,” Zed assured him quickly. “Sure, we’ll be more focused on finding civilization, but if it’s an emergency we’ll be able to stop and answer the call.”

“I’m starting to think he’s right, Tango. I think we should go. Especially if you end up having more trouble. There’s only so much I can do to help you over the radio. And as much as I hate to think about it, me and Zed are going to have to leave the bunker at some point.”

“The sooner we leave, the sooner we can get you out of there,” Zed says, and he says it with confidence. Tango gripped at the wire connecting the headset to his radio. There was logic in their words. It was fairly sound logic too, or Impulse wouldn’t have given in so easily. They were good at logic and had already made up their minds. But that didn’t mean he had to like it.

_________________

“I suppose there’s no way for me to talk you out of this, huh?”

“You still have a mountain of trash in front of that maintenance hatch?”

Tango lets out a defeated sigh. He’s standing in front of said ‘mountain,’ getting ready to start working at it for the day. He still has a long way to go. But his friends were preparing to leave. They had spent a full day preparing water and packing away whatever food they could scrounge up from a break room. Zed even told Tango about the sealed suits he had put together with duct tape and plastic cover-alls. They were ready.

There wouldn’t be much more for Tango to do other than get back to work once the radio went silent. It would give him something else to focus on, at least. Something other than worrying about their safety. Something other than the fear that they might not come back.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“Then you focus on that, buddy,” Impulse soothes. “Try to clear out as much as you can for when we come back. With any luck, we’ll have an army of people with us to help dig you out.”

“Yeah. Sure. Just you wait. By the time you guys come back, I’ll have this whole place spotless,” he tries to joke. They don’t laugh, but he hopes that maybe there’s a growing smile or two that he can’t see.

“Alright Tango,” Zed says. His voice sounds odd and distorted through the respirator mask he is pulling over his face. “As you know, we’re bringing the radio. The main problem is that we’re going to be mobile and the suits will make it hard to hear and respond. Try to only call us if it’s an emergency, ok? If we’re stopped for any reason and can get to the radio, we’ll call you and keep you updated.”

“Is that thing even going to work out there with all the scary radiation rays bouncing around?”

“Oh yeah. An initial blast might mess with radio waves, but we’re long past that. It should work the same up there as it does down here. All set Impulse?”

“Ready!” The other man’s voice also sounds like a muffled mess behind a mask. “I’ve got the radio and the food. You’ve got the water and the first aid kit. That’s everything. Man, I’m nervous. Look at my hands shaking.”

“Just some pre-journey jitters. It will probably get better once we get outside and see what we have to work with. Come help me with the door.”

Tango can hear the loud clunk of the sealing mechanism sliding out of place for their door. “Stay safe out there, alright guys?” His voice cracks a little. “You better check in at least once a day. Promise me.” Both of them answer him instantly.

“Promise.”

“We promise.”

The sound of pneumatic hissing blends a little into the background static of the radio as pistons pull their door open.

“Okay, Tango. This is it. We’re going now. You stay safe down there.”

“Don’t have too much fun without us.”

“Bye.” Tango hates how small his voice sounds. He’s not even sure if they could hear him on the other side, but it’s all he can manage. He’s afraid that, if he tries to say anything else, he’d fall apart into tiny little pieces. Whether they heard him or not, their end of the radio cuts out. The speakers switch back to buzzing with that familiar, empty white noise.

They’re gone. They’ll be okay. They’ll be back. They’ll get him out of here and then they can all go home.

He starts reaching towards one broken half of a door when one of the emergency lights goes out in the hall. It pops with a sudden tink. There are still other lights in the hall, but with one less to brighten the space the shapes in front of him are harsher. Bright red edges and curves are made stark in contrast to hard-lined black shadows. Somewhere from further down in the bunker, he can hear the hum of the pump. The steady drip, drop, drip of water. He didn’t need to run to check for a leak this time, though. He wanted to, but he didn’t. Now he knew from experience that it was coming from water condensing on the cooler end of the bunker wall where the pipe went into the soil outside. Something that Impulse had kindly explained to him. The place wasn’t in any immediate danger of leaking toxic fluids, as Zedaph had made clear. But old superstitions were easy to let creep back in when you could hear everything and there was nothing to be heard.

So Tango put the headset of the radio back on before he dug into the pile. With one hand, he hit the dial to switch frequencies while he pulled away the wreckage with the other.

He had a lot of frequencies to get through before he would end up back on the one his friends would be using. It wouldn’t be too hard to go through all of them and make the most of his time while he waited. And if he could help Zedaph and Impulse in some way, it would be worth it.

“Pan-pan, pan-pan, pan-pan. Is anyone out there? This is an urgent distress call from Tango Tek, calling from the underground testing Bunker 2. I… uh… I know this isn't protocol, but if anyone is out there, then you should know that there are two amazing people out there right now looking for help. They go by Zedaph and Impulse, they just went topside of Bunker 1, and they’re carrying a radio of their own. You should know that they are some of the smartest, bravest people I have ever met and their safety means everything to me. You might not know them, and you probably don’t know me, but if there is any way you can help them, then please, do whatever you can to make sure they make it home.”

#whumptober 2023 #prompt no. 7 #“I paced around for hours on empty I jumped at the slightest of sounds”#Radio Silence #minecraft: hermitcraft #hermitcraft #creative writing #isolation #nuclear disaster #tangotek #impulsesv #zedaph #alternate universe-modern setting #sound science #realistic engineering in fanfiction #CB radio

15 notes · View notes

graviitron · 7 months

Link

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Gravity Falls

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Bill Cipher & Ford Pines, Ford Pines & Stan Pines Characters: Ford Pines, the rest aren’t even here they’re just haunting the narrative

Additional Tags: Isolation, The Journals (Gravity Falls), Hallucinations, Sleep Deprivation, Psychological Trauma, Paranoia, Episode: s02e12 A Tale of Two Stans, Childhood Trauma, Extended Metaphors, Missing Scene, Whumptober 2023

Summary:

A small glimpse into the life of a recently betrayed Stanford Pines from the 80s, running off of nothing but spite and coffee. We come to three conclusions; yellow is the worst color in the rainbow, Ford is a bit more stuck in the past than he’d like to think, and eyes suck. These are very important lessons.

FIRST DAY OF WHUMPTOBER WAHOO!!! Month long challenge full of fic and pain?? HELL YEAH!! this is also the most prompts I’ve combined into one fic. the rest are like one or two other days, maybe three if we’re pushing, but this one’s good. I’m very excited for all this month and I’m going to bed now. ougrh

15 notes · View notes

actress4him · 7 months

Text

Whumptober 2023 - Day 7 - Obsession

Surprise! I haven't forgotten that this story exists lol. This piece takes place immediately after Cadence's first captivity, before she moves and changes her name and hair, so it's a prequel to the main canon. If you're new to this series, it does sound like I'm implying noncon a couple of times in this, but Oliver does not do noncon.

Taglist: @justplainwhump , @whump-ventures

Masterlist

No. 7: “I paced around for hours on empty; I jumped at the slightest of sounds.”

Contains: lady whump, long term captivity, conditioned whumpee, stalker, creepy/intimate whumper, fear of recapture

He’d let her go.

He’d let her go, and Cadence still can’t figure out why. Days and weeks and months of pain and torment and making sure that she knows without a doubt, in nearly every possible way, that she belongs to him, then he just…let her go.

It doesn’t make sense.

It has to be some kind of trick, right? There’s no way he’s done with her. He didn’t grow tired of her, he was still doing the same exact things up until this morning, including whispering in her ear how perfect she is and how she’ll always be his. In fact, he told her as he was dropping her off in the middle of this unfamiliar street that he’d see her again soon.

So it can’t be over. He’s watching her somehow right now, she has no doubt. This is just another one of his games. She never expected him to go this far, to actually let her outside the warehouse where he’s been keeping her all of this time, but he does love his games. Loves to find new ways to mess with her head, to watch her struggle and attempt in vain to hold on to the tiny little slivers of hope and dignity that she has left, only to fall further into his clutches each time.

This time, she gets the feeling he wants to build up her hope. He wants her to believe that she’s actually free, so that he can laugh and feel more powerful than ever when he swoops back in and snatches her up again.

Well, she doesn’t believe it. She’s not going to believe it, ever. He did his job well, she knows who she belongs to, it’s carved into her skin and the deepest recesses of her mind. There’s absolutely no way that he’ll leave her alone for long.

So she walks aimlessly, waiting for him to appear. The sun is far too bright, too warm. She hasn’t even seen the sun in…how long has it been, anyway? It doesn’t matter, because it isn’t over. She’s going back any minute now. There’s no need to count the days, to think about what could be, to try and find anyone to tell her story to. She knows better. If she tells anyone, they meet the same fate as her.

A car drives by, and Cadence nearly jumps out of her skin. She nearly forgot that life existed out here, in the real world. That people were still driving around, going to work, running errands, going home to their families and friends and sleeping soundly in their own beds every night. She used to have that kind of life, too. She doesn’t remember what it was like, anymore.

The farther she walks, the noisier it gets, and she flinches at each sound. Every car she expects to be his. Every corner she passes, she’s sure he’s waiting around.

Instead, she finds herself wandering alone down a street she actually recognizes. These stores and restaurants are ones she’s been to before. Back when she had a normal life. Back before she belonged to him.

A real, live person passes her on the sidewalk, wrinkling their nose and eyebrows in her direction. She knows why. He likes to show her herself in the mirror. She looks like a ghost. She feels like a ghost, haunting her own past.

Cadence turns onto a quieter street and keeps waiting for him to show up. Only, he doesn’t. The too-bright, too-warm sun begins sinking behind the distant skyscrapers, but she’s still alone. This is lasting much longer than she’d expected. Then again, his games aren’t meant to be easily understood, and he has no reason to worry about leaving her out here. He knows just how well trained she is. He’s confident in his work, confident that she’ll behave even without his constant presence.

Darkness falls. She has no energy left, didn’t really have any when she started walking hours ago, but she doesn’t know what else to do. It’s only when she realizes she’s been slowly edging her way toward her old apartment that she realizes that’s probably where he is. He knows where it is, after all. He showed her pictures one time of himself inside of it - lying in her bed, sitting on her couch, eating at her table. That has to be it. He’s waiting on her to give in, to go home, to decide he’s not coming back and try to go back to life before him.

So that’s what she does. There’s no use fighting it. She’s not enjoying any of this taste of freedom, anyway, she might as well end this game as soon as possible so that she doesn’t have to suffer through the anticipation anymore. Doing what he wants is always the best solution.

It hurts, dragging herself up the stairs to the second floor apartment, but she arrives at the door and stares for a long moment. Her floral wreath is still on the door, her worn welcome mat sitting neatly underneath it. She’d half expected someone else to have moved in. Why hasn’t someone else moved in? Yes, she knew he’d been here at some point partway through her time with him, so it was clearly still hers then, but it hadn’t clicked until now that she hasn’t been paying rent for quite some time and there’s no reason she shouldn’t have been evicted.

It has something to do with him, she’s sure.

She has no key. If he dropped her off close enough for her to walk here and made sure that it still belonged to her, though, then he must have intended for her to get inside. She tries the knob, it’s locked. Stooping down with a cringe and hitched breath, she looks underneath the mat. Sure enough, there’s a brass key.

The apartment is dark, and smells musty. Her heart is in her throat, waiting for him to step out and smile at her. She waits a moment in the darkness, then reaches over with a shaking hand and flips the light on, wincing at the sudden brightness. Almost immediately she turns it back off, then back on again. One is too dark, the other too bright. But she’d rather be able to see him coming, so on it stays.

All of her things are still here. Besides the thick layer of dust, it looks exactly like she left it. Over there is the kitchen and the small table where he sat and ate his meal. Closer by is the sofa where he lounged, propping his feet on the coffee table. In the next room is the queen sized bed that he laid across, resting his head on the pillow.

That’s probably where he’s waiting now. She walks in, heart pounding, and flicks that light on, too. But it’s empty. Her bed is made, her empty glass still sitting on the bedside table. She goes to the bathroom, there’s nothing there. Checks the closets, the back deck, under the bed and inside the shower, moving quickly and frantically now.

He’s not here. She was sure he would be here waiting for her.

But again, he has all the power. Of course it wouldn’t be anything that she would expect. He’ll be here, though. He’ll come back for her. She belongs to him. She’ll never be free of him, he told her so. Refusing to get her hopes up is the only way that she can beat him, even if it does mean she’s playing right into his hand by continuing to believe everything he says about her.

It really doesn’t matter what she does. He always wins.

She might as well sit and rest a little while she waits for him. She looks at the bed, then the couch, then picks a spot against the living room wall to sink to the floor, hugging her knees to her chest.

He’ll be back soon.

#whumptober2023 #no.7 #lyric #i paced around for hours on empty i jumped at the slightest of sounds #original content #fic #captivity tw #conditioned whumpee tw #stalker tw #creepy/intimate whumper tw #obsession fic #cadence the whumpee #lady whump #lady whumpee #long term captivity #whump series

9 notes · View notes

em-writes-stuff · 7 months

Text

Flufftober + Whumptober day 7

prompts: porch swing + "I paced for hours on empty, jumped at the slightest of sounds" + "Can you hear me?"

488 words

warnings: talking about passed loved ones, cursing

characters: echo song, nyks fyre

“What’re you thinking about?” Nyks asks, gently nudging Echo.

He inhales sharply, like it’d just been woken up and shrugs, “Just…everything I think.”

She chuckles softly and leans her head on his. She kicks her leg against the wall to keep the swing moving and laces their fingers with his. “What counts as ‘everything’ to you?” she asks. “Because I can guarantee that we have different ideas.”

He almost laughs and shakes its head. “I don’t know. Just…how content I am. I never expected to be able to just sit somewhere like this.”

She hums and rubs a thumb over its knuckles, “I get it. I mean, when I was little, I thought I’d have an easy life, y’know. Maybe someone would force me to marry them, but that was expected.

“Then my sister…” she trails off and shakes her head. “Well, you know that story.” he nods and presses its head harder against them for a moment. “And after that, my parents left and…the village took me in.”

Her brows knit together and she looks at him, “What do you mean though? I mean, I know about your boss, and the magic, but even with that, you didn’t think you’d get out of Terilace one day?”

It shakes his head and scoffs, “Never. I thought I’d have to stay there forever. Or until I was caught and killed. Almost wanted to run away after Skrell was…but mom had just taken Frankie in and wasn’t able to take care of her. So, I told myself that I’d leave once she was old enough.

“And she got there quicker than I was ready for, so then it was after Liberty’s kids were old enough, then once I’d trained Ezran to take my place in the library.” he sighs and shakes his head.

“I thought you didn’t finish training him,” Nyks says. “You had almost finished, but then…”

“Yeah,” Echo interrupts. “Fucking Spencer, ruining everything.” he says it playfully enough, so Nyks laughs. “Robert asked me to get him out safe, so I did.”

She smiles faintly and kicks against the wall. “Fucking Spencer.”

He chuckles and repeats, “Fucking Spencer.” it inhales deeply and sinks deeper into Nyks’ lap. “I’m glad to be away though. It wasn’t…good for me there. I’d barely sleep. I wore a trail in the floor from pacing, and it got to a point where I’d jump at my mom’s voice downstairs.”

Nyks combs through his hair and slows the swing until it barely moves. “I’m sorry.”

He hums softly and closes its eyes, turning its face toward Nyks. She traces small circles along his hairline and waits until his breathing evens out.

“Can you hear me?” she whispers. It doesn’t reply and she exhales shakily, “I wish I could go back and make everything good for you. But since I can't, I'm glad we met. Because I can kill anyone who tries to hurt you.”

#flufftober2023 #whumptober2023 #can you hear me #porch swing #i paced around for hours on empty i jumped at the slightest of sounds #em writes #em writes stuff #my writing #whump #not to tag with ocs but #echo song #nyks fyre

4 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

printlabnw

Untitled

halloawhatisthis

A rabbit, John!

ginikas-simblr

Gina's Simming World

$latex-cheat-sheet-pt$

latex-cheat-sheet-pt

👑 latex cheat sheet (2022 mod) 44R2?

corporaloretsev

chaos giving orders