#remember how I said some of these weren't really whump?
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Discipline
Follows this little piece on Rosa and Blanca. Written for Day 3 of the @bbu-on-the-side BBU Community Days.
[masterlist]
Rosa loses everything.
Content: BBU, facility whump, all female characters, forced to watch, shock collar; this is all angst and I broke my own heart.
"278017. What a disappointment."
Rosa lifted her head, tried to blink her eyes open. Her movements were slowed somehow, her vision blurred. Like swimming through syrup, she thought. Drifting through rose water.
The smell didn't match though. She didn't remember how rose water smelled exactly, or even how she'd know, but it would be a nice smell. Soft and comforting, like her dreams of a home far away.
The smell here, right now, was the clean, sharp smell of her nightmares. Of a place she'd hoped she'd left long behind. A place where she was a number instead of a name.
A place without Blanca.
Blanca.
She moved her hands, reached through the tides of sticky syrup holding her back. There was nothing besides her, neither the warmth of another body nor the soft rhythm of Blanca's breathing.
Her desperate sob broke free as a hoarse groan.
"Seventeen. Look at me when I talk to you."
She blinked again, against the too bright light, until she made out eye shape of a person looming over her. The gray of her uniform almost seemed black in the light. But Rosa knew what it truly looked like. She remembered everything about this.
It had just never hurt that much.
"B... Blanca..." she whispered.
Pain exploded at the base of her neck, electricity surging through her, cutting off her breath. Her muscles spasmed, teeth locked, body lifted by an invisible force.
"Wrong answer, 17. Disappointing again. 'Yes, Handler Kerry.' That's the only correct reply." Something bored into Rosa's side, and it took her a moment to realise it was Handler Kerry's boot. "That name you've just said; it'll never be spoken again."
Rosa followed the nudge of the foot to stare up at the handler. Handler Kerry raised an expectant brow. Rosa knew what she was meant to say. Of course she did, she wasn't stupid, even though they said she was.
She swallowed, before she met the handler's gaze.
"Blanca," she said. "Blanca, Blanca, Bl-"
The collar burst to life again; and the world exploded into pain.
It took forever until she could hear the handler's voice again, cutting through the unending cloud of agony.
"-68. 400168. The Romantic pet you're referring to. She-"
Blanca, Rosa thought. Her throat was too dry to speak. But she'd say the name in her mind then, over and over again.
"400168 is to be refurbished. A shame really. She's a good one. Knows her place. You know she's the reason your little adventure didn't work out, right? 168 was a good pet. She was loyal to her owner. Told him what you two were planning. Now it's her, she's the one getting refurbished, and resold. Shame, really. Prospective is some dude in Texas, going through his Romantics like others go through their underwear drawer."
"P-" Rosa's voice cracked. "P- please."
"Yeah, right. I know what you're thinking, 17. Should've been you, because you were the bad pet, weren't you? Your stupid little idea, to run and leave your owners behind, stealing their precious possessions. Well, let me tell you something, pet. Something about discipline."
"Dis-," Rosa breathed. "Discipline is-"
"Important for the well being of the pet, yadda yadda, yeah. Not that. Discipline is something that has to hurt. You won't get it into your tiny idiot brain otherwise. Discipline means following your rules, without exception, and discipline means there's punishment if you fail. Discipline needs punishment as a motivation."
Pain flashed up in her ribs and belatedly Rosa understood it had been a kick to her side. She winced.
"You're not motivated enough by your own pain, 17. You will be by hers."
"N- ngh, please. She-"
The handler's hand curled in the front of Rosa's plain white shirt and yanked her up.
"Your owners want you back. With all your knowledge of their household, their preferences, everything. So. No full refurb for you. No Drip. Just a refresher on your discipline. Look. Look." A sharp pull at her collar, the beep and hiss of a door opening for a handler's key card, and Rosa was pushed into another training room.
On the ground, between smears of red blood on white tiles, lay a small, curled up figure, covered in bruises, thin arms wrapped around her head, hair a tangled mess.
Rosa stumbled forward. "Bl-"
Handler Kerry's hands pressed a bit between Rosa's lips, pulled a strap taut behind her head, and the name was choked in her mouth, as Kerry held her back.
She could hear her, now. Sobs. Desperate, little sobs, a voice she knew all too well, the voice that had whispered to her every night in their little bedroom, words of solace, stories of the world outside their home, promises of a future. Now, there were only sobs. And in between, a broken question. "Why?"
Handler Kerry glared at Rosa. "Because someone else made you a bad pet, 168."
A panicked gaze flew up at them. Rosa struggled in Handler Kerry's hold, but her muscles refused to work. She tried to catch Blanca's gaze, reassure her, but Blanca's eyes were void of any recognition.
"I... I don't understand, Handler Kerry," Blanca whispered.
"You don't need to, trainee," Handler Kerry said smugly. "As long as she does."
Tears welled up in Rosa's eyes and she shook her head wildly. Blanca. Blanca. Despair broke free in a garbled sob around the bit.
Blanca flinched back. "Will... will this pet hurt me, too, Handler?"
The world spun before Rosa's eyes.
"No," Handler Kerry said. "This one will just watch. But-" With her free hand, she lifted her radio. "Bring in the Guard Dogs."
Rosa couldn't even scream.
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Hello and happy new year! I hope your day is going wonderfully!
I am in a little bit of a slump writing this fic of mine, and I was wondering if you would share some of your infinite Whump wisdom
My characters were in a ww1 era plane that’s been shot down, and the co-pilot in the front took the heaviest hits. Do you have any ideas regarding dialogue, actions or anything that would really sell that character A is injured and character B is super concerned?
Thank you so much for your help!!!
Hi there! Oooh WWI aviation? I love that! Well let's see if I can offer any help. Survival rates for pilots that were shot down in WW1 were pretty much none existent. If you got shot down you were most likely dying. Landing was nearly impossible, parachutes weren't in use until 1917/18 so if you chose to bail you were pretty much gonna die on landing. But let's suspend belief for the sake of the story! I do that a lot lol.
Okay, I would like to first recommend checking out Masters of the Air which is airing now (there's 4 episodes out right now). This show tells the story of the 100th Bomb Group of the 8th Air Force during WWII. While they were flying B-17 bombers during the second world war instead of the Fokker or Sopwith Camels used during WW1, the concepts of what the men would say and act when one of their comrades is injured can easily be applied to WW1. You might find some inspiration there.
Here's a good link you could check out that discuss what it was like flying, being injured/shot down. They might offer some inspiration as well.
This link in particular is fascinating and I think you might like this quote: "I felt the machine lurch, I turned my head over my shoulder and I saw that my pilot was sunk on the controls. There was a rasping sound and the engine had stopped and there was I, suspended in the air with a dead pilot, Huns, bullets, wings all round me and I looked up to the heavens and I said ‘Oh, God help me’. The next thing I remember was having a sledge hammer blow in my head and I put my hand to my helmet and I found it all jagged and torn, a certain amount of blood. Then I had a blackout, and I fell through the air, I think like a falling leaf or a wounded or injured bird. And I think it was the upward rush of the air that brought me to my senses. I had presence of mind to pull on the joy stick to break the fall and the machine staggered and stalled and fell on some trees."
This link has some great answers that I think you'd like: https://www.quora.com/What-procedure-must-a-ww1-pilot-do-when-their-plane-is-shot-down-especially-when-they-dont-bring-a-parachute
This link has some good information too: https://www.team-bhp.com/news/evolution-fighter-planes-during-world-war-i
And this had some stories from flyers: https://www.worldwar1centennial.org/index.php/stories-of-the-flyers.html
Now I'm going to assume that in your story here they were able to land their plane successfully without just going splat like the gentleman in the quote above so if you got two guys who were just shot down and one is hurt, here are some things to think about:
Are they in enemy territory or did they manage to limp/jump out/land in allied ground? If they're in enemy territory they're going to want to get away from the plane as fast as possible to avoid being captured by the enemy. With an injure co-pilot that's going to be incredibly difficult.
Your co-pilot is injured. How badly? Is it survivable? Or is he already bleeding out? Does your other character recognize that his copilot is about to die or does he have a chance to save him? He'll need to get his friend out of the plane and that won't be easy. Between the pain of the injuries and the awkward way you have to get in and out of a WW1 era plane I'm sure your injured party will be doing some screaming and writhing there.
Your other character is probably feeling afraid, frantic, torn between trying to save his friend first and making sure they don't get caught by the enemy at the same time. He's gotta move quickly to pull his friend from the plane, staunch any bleeding, and get them somewhere relatively safe.
Soldiers were equipped with basic first aid kits that they carried with them so your co-pilot could pull that out, grab a bunch bandages and treat any injury he needed to. Here's a picture of one used by German pilots for inspiration:
Some classic dialogue prompts for a soldier trying to reassure their friend who is badly injured:
It's gonna be okay.
It's no that bad.
We'll be home in no time.
Just hang in there.
Have your uninjured party talk to the injured pilot as well. You could have him tell stories to distract him from the pain. Anything that comes to his mind. Stories about his home maybe.
This is all probably more than you asked for lol but I love studying aviation history so you hit a hyperfixation of mine. Hopefully something here sparks some inspiration for you!!
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Sanctuary part six
TW: religion, cult, threats of violence, death threats, malnutrition, starvation, menstruation issues, anxiety, blood, referenced parasitic infection, human whumpee, human caretaker, vampire caretaker, multiple caretakers, human whumper
Dear Mordecai,
I once again need to ask if you've gone nuts. As your sister, it is my responsibility to tell you when I think you are doing something stupid. And this is beyond stupid. I want to wring your neck, then kiss your forehead and tuck you into bed like I did when you were little.
I didn't catch a wink of sleep for the last two nights, sick to my stomach with anxiety over you. I'm tired of putting things nicely. You're going to die. And I'll never even know, because you can't write letters when you're dead. Your letters won't come for a week, then a month, then a year, and then I'll have to accept that I'm never going to hear from the only family I have left ever again.
You're too close. Even if you weren't living with a vampire, you are still living right next to the same swamp Rosemonda had us build this compound in. It doesn't matter how much you like loving the cottagecore dream. If Rosemonda finds you, she's going to put your head on a spike. No, she'll make me do it, since I'm your sister. It'll be her grand example. You need to leave the state at the very least.
Listen, I'm overjoyed that you're finally healthy and eating full meals and sleeping on a bed. I cried of happiness when you told me how well you were eating. I still remember when we were fasting last summer and I could count your ribs through your skin. Some of the other women and I haven't had our periods in months. Rosemonda says it's because we're pure and free of lust. But I know it's malnutrition.
That being said, I think you're letting your new health and happiness blind you to the danger you're in. Because you're being fattened up for slaughter, you think your new butcher is an angel compared to the Rosemonda, since she prefers her livestock starved. Ishtar is keeping you around to feed on your blood. He's no better than any of the leeches that latched onto you in the swamp, using you for his own benefit.
I need to say something you're really not going to like, if you're still reading this letter at all. You've been seduced, and I think deep down you know it. Ishtar doesn't just have control over your body, providing you with everything you need so you won't leave. He also has control over your mind and your heart. Eventually paying rent in life blood isn't going to be enough.
You're in love and I can't fucking believe it. Remember when you described him as, and I quote, "perfect", "kind", and "lonely". Listen up. Vampires are solitary creatures. They don't get lonely. They don't have compassion. Your new boyfriend Ishtar doesn't care about you, and it's time you face up to it. You said yourself that he spends as little time as possible around you. I know that's good for your autism and anxiety, but it's also a red flag.
It is going to be hard for you to escape now that he has you, so listen very closely. Leave at dawn so you can get as far away as possible during daylight hours. Then find a synagogue or a temple that will let you stay overnight. Most people would say a church, but vampires can't set foot on ground cultivated by a genuine faith, and too many churches are run by greedy evangelist charlatans. There's no way to tell until it's too late.
Keep going like that until you're out of the state and far away. Write when you can, but not at risk of your life. I will rest easy when you've settled down halfway across the country. Then I'll join you, no matter what it takes. Just get a place to live that isn't rooming with a vampire.
With love, Rahab
Taglist: @hugh-lauries-bald-spot @devourerofcheesecake @whumpsday @whumpshaped @heavenlyeden @suspicious-whumping-egg @whumplr-reader @sulnusoup13 @goldenflame2516 @cepheusgalaxy @emscared-whumps @dragonwithanaquarium
#Abraham original: Hot off the press#Sanctuary#Whump#Epistolary writing#Vampire caretaker#Human caretaker#Human whumpee#Human whumper#Cult whump#Religious whump#Whump series
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I'm aware I'm not super consistent when it comes to serieses, nor would it be a good idea to start one right before a tech week, but I need to get the idea out.
...
Coal-black Catch I
Contents: child whumpee, fallen angel whumpee, demon whumper, mentioned corrupt leadership (sort of? They get in trouble for asking questions), dehumanization, future pet whump, hunting traps/net, trophy hunting whumper
...
It had been a few questions, only a few questions... Kiran had just wanted to know why the angels weren't allowed to help the demon riddled world out. The mortals were suffering and they were angels, and all their teachers said they were saved to help...
But it was Kiran's fault, they should have just trusted the archangels. They were already weak, not useful. Too soft... it's a wonder they didn't fall sooner. Which is really saying something, being only twelve years old.
They still aren't used to their skin feeling so fragile, or their wings so heavy. Kiran could still fly of course- while they were stripped of divine magic, the arch angels would be appalled at the idea of taking away flight. But their wings were an inky black now... Kiran's stomach twisted whenever they caught the corner of their eye.
The archangels gifted Kiran the grace of not falling to the city. With the amount of demons running around, they'd be a death sentence. No, Kiran was in the quiet of the forest, surviving. They may be fallen,but they still weren't quite mortal, even without the radiant magic. They didn't need to eat nearly as much as a mortal might, though they did need to sleep now, they noticed...
And while they could fly it... maybe wasn't safe to. Demons wouldn't have wings like angels, but Kiran had heard the horror stories, of demons that would shoot angels out of the sky with spears or bows or even spells. And they still didn't really know where they were, only the fourth day apart from the heavens.
Kiran was watching their feet when it happened, was the worst part, really thinking and trying not to step on any sharp rocks or twigs or roots. They hadn't realized how little their feet touched the ground in heaven, always hovering... on earth Kiran's feet were already calloused.
But all of a sudden they were yanked harshly off the ground by some rough material, criss crossed ropes in a net. Kiran's wings were pushed awkward close to their back, knees and legs curled in as well. Their feathers bent uncomfortably rubbed against the ropes, everything made Kiran's already delicate frame curl in to be smaller.
What?! This wasn't- no one ever said anything about traps. Why would someone put a trap out anyway?! And then not be by it... Kiran yelped as they were pulled up, if anyone was near they'd have revealed themselves...
Kiran was breathing too fast, way too fast. They shivered, feathers ruffling as they attempted to hug their wings even closer, for SOME form of protection. They didn't know who set this trap. Even if a mortal did they'd hand them right over to a demon... demons hated angels.
Oh Kiran was dead. Dead dead. Dead dead or worse. That's what the archangels had said, they never went into detail but Kiran couldn't imagine what could be worse than death.
They were there- suspended in the air and in suspense for what felt like hours. They were caught in the morning- the sky wasn't orange but it hadn't got quite blue yet- but the sun was nearly directly above by the time Kiran heard anything.
Footsteps, quite a few. That alone made Kiran rigid as rocks. Clanky like metal as well, shouting and some laughing. The angel's heart stopped when the party came into view.
Every voice was adorned with horns, red and black and a few purple, twisting and sharp and branching... clear markers of demons, all with the scary bows the teachers had told them about, and most had ropes at their belts too. In the center was a cart pulled by... horses maybe? If Kiran remembered their names- strong looking beasts pulling behind them more weapons, as well as a man with black horns that went all up and over, almost like that moose Kiran saw yesterday.
Kiran was dead. Dead as a stone.
The demon on the cart pulled the reigns to stop the beasts, hopping off and motioning for the other demons to stay. He must have been the leader, he was wearing the nicest clothes, some jewelery as well, not fit for hunting. He wasn't the biggest of the group per say, but he clearly was athletic. He made his way over to the net, stopping some twenty feet away with wide eyes, before continuing on with a new look of... wonder? Vigor?
"Well aren't you quite the catch..." the demon put his hands on his hips, looking up at Kiran. They couldn't breath, thwy were too small their wings hurt they wanted to fly away away and they wanted to say sorry to the archangels and never speak again and maybe they'd take them back- Kiran gripped the net with white knuckles, like they could climb and clamber away. "Been a while since I've seen an angel on my grounds, let alone fallen..."
That caught the attention of the other demons, as they made their way forward as the leader cut Kiran from the net, falling unceremoniously to the ground in a heap of feathers. Before they could recover, a heavy boot pressed on their back, between their wings. Not wanting to risk damaging their wings or any sort of extra attention than they were already about to receive, they went deathly still.
"What an interesting creature..." the leader leaned down, pulling on Kiran's wing in a less than gentle way to splay out the feathers, making them hiss in pain, trembling a little. "You know that fallen angels are stripped of their magic near completely? It's like they were made to just be collected by whatever demon finds them first. What's your name, pet?"
"I don't- my name is Kiran-" their feathers flared out involuntarily, like they were trying to look big in front of a predator. "I'm sorry for intruding in your forest it won't happen- you don't ever have to see me again please let me go I didn't mean-"
"Oh you really are adorable," the demon chuckled, a sick bit of glee in his voice. "No sweetheart, you're much to rare a find to play catch and release."
He pulled Kiran to their feet, quickly grabbing both their wrists and tying them behind their back. He tugged on Kiran's wing- not caring that their breath hitched whenever he did so- and directed her over to sit beside him in the cart. They hunched their shoulders, trying to cover themselves as much as possible from view behind their feathers.
"Aw, don't worry, sweetheart-" he cooed. Kiran's skin crawled as he stroked his fingers through his wings. "Just keep being all scared and obedient like this and this will be plenty pleasant for the both of us."
"Lord Andras," a gruffer looking demon behind the cart called. All the other huntsmen had yet to take their eyes off Kiran- the oddity of the hour- and this one was no different. They hated the feeling of the staring... "are we to head back to the manor for the day then?"
The demon- Lord Andras (Kiran managed to get caught by a demon Lord, they was so very screwed) hummed, looking down at his prize. "I suppose we should, I don't want to have to deal with complications in the night, so best start arranging things early. But you won't give me trouble, will you sweetheart..."
Kiran barely suppressed a squeak as he squeezed the back of their neck. Andras was smiling, she hadnt realized just how sharp his teeth were. "N- of course not, no..."
He cooed again, before turning away and clapping twice. "Back to the manor then, everyone! This has certainly been a successful hunting trip."
The horse beasts started moving again, as the demons talked among themselves. Kiran couldn't focus on any of them though, even as they picked up they were a topic of conversation a few times, the only think they could process was Andras's hand on their wings.
#whump#quiet whispering#whumper#fantasy whump#whumpee#magic whumpee#magic whumper#possessive whumper#demon whumper#fallen angel whumpee#angel whumpee#coal black catch
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Charles & Ollie: Chapter 10
Enjoy! And sorry, this took longer than expected
CW: pet whump, past kidnapping, fear of punishment, fear of abandonment, really bad headspace, unreliable narrator, internalized dehumanization, caretaker new master, multiple caretakers
———
Bruno was on their fifth cup of coffee when Callie came into the kitchen. She couldn't stop herself from checking on Ollie again, assuring herself that he was safe. He was asleep now, so that was probably a good sign. Maybe? Honestly, she wasn’t sure.
"Coffee? Again? Bruno, you're that stressed out?"
"Of course I'm stressed! We have a person in our apartment who can't even call us by our name without clear permission. Plus, as much as I hate it, legally speaking, he's stolen property. We could face some serious jail time for literally just helping someone. How could I ever not be stressed?"
Callie put her hands up in mock defeat.
"Hey, don't yell at me. I'm with you, this whole situation is very messed up. I just- maybe hold off the caffeine for a second. And, I dunno, stress is just so unlike you."
Bruno smiled half-heartedly. A moment of silence and calm passed. Callie took a deep breath, centering herself.
"Alright, well, we should have a plan. To minimize stress and keep Ollie safe. First things first, wasn't there a guy involved with pet rescue who used to work for the painter? He'll probably know what's best for Ollie."
Bruno nodded. "We also need to go shopping. Clothes for Ollie, toiletries, more groceries, and stuff like that. How about I go out shopping tomorrow while you stay here with Ollie and try to contract the guy?"
"Alright, it's a plan."
- - -
Ollie woke up on an unknown bed in an unfamiliar room. It took him a second to remember where he was, and when he did, he started crying. Muffled sobs racked his body as his mind wandered in a desperate loop. He wished Master Charles was here. Whenever he was crying or scared, Master Charles would calm him and sometimes hold him. Ollie would get a treat and gentle words. But now, he'd be lucky if these people even decided to keep such an annoying pet.
It was a bad thing to do, thinking of his past owner. So, so incredibly bad. He belonged to Bruno and Callie now, both of whom hated his old owner. To be missing Master Charles, or worse, crying for him, was disobedient, bad. He was a bad pet. They'd punish Ollie for sure. They'd kick him out afterward, assuming the two wouldn't decide to just kill him. And he had just got a new home. He didn't want to lose it so fast.
Once he had finally calmed a bit, he quickly dried his eyes and tried to think of something else. When his thoughts proved that almost everything reminded him of old Master and thus made him feel worse, he forced his mind blank. He cleared out all of his thoughts like he was throwing a white sheet over something and ignoring the movement underneath.
The sun had just begun to rise. He had woken up early enough to make breakfast for the new owners that said they weren't his owners. Maybe he could change their minds, or, at the very least, change Mx. Bruno's. That one seemed very nice, despite being a bit stressed. They remind him of- no. Do not think about Master Charles! Stop it stop it stop it stop itstopitstopitstopit.
Maybe he could be a good Friend and make them both want to keep him. Failing that, he might make Mx. Bruno love him. Maybe he wouldn't mess everything up this time.
As he crept out of the room they had given him as quietly as he could, Ollie purposefully ignored the fact that he didn't know the first thing about how to be a Friend.
- - -
The kitchen was small but pretty. It was decorated with lots of flower imagery, and a fresh vase of daisies was on the table. It smelled like spring and tea in here.
Tea! Master Charles liked to drink tea sometimes, and Bruno had a cup of it when Ollie first met them, although, after that, they were drinking coffee. If Ollie could find either drink, he might find favor with them. And if he found favor with them, maybe they'd prevent him from getting kicked out. Perhaps they'd even give out lighter punishments, even though Ollie knew he wasn't worth that. Master Ch- old master was just nice. Ollie knew how harsh he deserved.
After a while spent searching, bad pet, sneaking around and looking through things- no. He was being good. He was making breakfast. It was okay to look if it was for his owners. (At least he hoped so.) Finally, he found some tea and a kettle. He hoped that clove tea was good enough for his owner, but he didn’t see anything else.
What else could he do? He saw eggs and fruit while trying to locate the tea, but had no clue if either would be okay. He barely knew that Bruno liked tea, based on yesterday and the fact that the kitchen already smells like it. He had no clue what either person would want to eat. They wouldn't throw him out for this, right? Some owners definitely would, but these two seemed nice. They gave a chance to a worthless, second-hand, dirty mutt like him. The same people who would throw out a pet that couldn't make food would've never taken in a stray in the first place.
He'll be fine. Everything’s fine. He’ll be fine. If he repeated it over and over and thought of nothing else, maybe he'd convince himself. He'll be fine.
———
Tag list: @whumpzone @whump-me-all-night-long @whumpsweetwhump @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @apples-and-whump @professional-idiocy @nicolepascaline @cowboy-anon @wolfeyedwitch @kim-poce @guachipongo @badluck990 @secretwhumplair @batfacedliar-yetagain @whumpsday @extrabitterbrain @morelikepainsley
#charles & ollie#ollie#Bruno & Callie#whump#pet whump#pet whumpee#tw fear of punishment#fear of punishment#tw fear of abandonment#fear of abandonment#caretaker new master#caretaker new whumper#multiple caretakers#unreliable narrator#bad headspace
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Find Something
For the @julybreakbingo squares "Fairy Tale AU" and "Location: Flea Market"
Ao3
Spencer belongs to @starliight-whump
There weren't a lot of people at the yard sale. Just Spencer, Nova, Delia, two other people casually looking through boxes, and the people selling.
"You can pick anything you want," Delia told Nova. "But just one thing, okay?"
She would have loved to let Nova have as many things as she liked, and to get them new from a store, but that wasn't really an option for them right now. The new apartment had nearly doubled her rent, and even with Spencer's income added to hers, it was hard to make ends meet. Still, it was worth it, because the bigger apartment had been on the list of demands to make them a suitable foster home for Nova.
Nova took a bit of encouragement, but soon she was looking through the boxes of toys on the ground.
Delia turned to Spencer, who was watching Nova with a soft smile on his lips. "That goes for you, too. Find something you want."
"I don't need anything," Spencer said.
It had been nearly a year now since they first moved in together, but Delia knew he was still struggling with his freedom, with the idea of being a person with his own preferences and desires. He was happy to let Delia make decisions for him, and she often did, but she didn't think it was good for them to go on like that forever.
"You don't have to need something to want it," she said. "Come on. One thing. I believe in you."
Just like Nova, Spencer needed some help to get going, with Delia choosing the most ridiculous items she could find and suggesting them to him.
"How about this," she said, holding up a lumpy hat with crochet flowers, which she knew would be too eye-catching for Spencer's liking. "Or maybe... a coffee maker with a cracked pot? Just what we need!"
Spencer laughed in that quiet way of his, like he thought she was being ridiculous but not complaining about it, and turned to the box closest to him.
"I'll look," he said.
"Good," said Delia. "We won't leave until you find something."
With Spencer and Nova busy, Delia began to look for something for herself. She considered a pair of oversized earrings and a dress that looked like it would fit, but they didn't call out to her the way they might have in the past, so she decided against them.
She moved from the clothes to the kitchen items to the toys, and found Nova sitting by a box, digging through a plastic bag with little clacking noises.
"Did you find something nice?" Delia asked.
After a bit more digging, Nova took her hands out, holding a small, orange marble.
"Oh, that's very pretty! Do you want it so you can play with Arwa?"
Nova nodded.
One marble wasn't enough to play with marbles, but by the sound of it there were more in the bag, and they couldn't be that expensive. Besides, if this was the way to help Nova make friends, she could have all the marbles they could afford and then some.
"How much for the marbles?" Delia asked the woman holding the yard sale.
"A dollar for the bag."
"You hear that, Nova? You can have the whole bag!"
Nova leaned against her and whispered in her ear.
"I know I said just one thing," Delia said. "But the marbles together count as one. It's okay, I promise. Do you want them?"
They bought the marbles and Delia chose a board game that they could play together as her item, then they went to find Spencer. He was standing by a table holding a book.
"Find anything?" Delia asked.
"I think I had this before," Spencer said, frowning at the book. "It looks familiar."
The book was an illustrated fairy tale, with a picture of a man standing outside a castle covered in white roses and sharp thorns on the cover.
"'The Unloveable Princess'," Delia read. "That sounds sad."
"I don't remember the story."
"Do you want to buy it? We can read it together," Delia suggested.
Spencer nodded. "I would like that."
#July Break Bingo 2023#JBBingo2023#Fandom: Original Work#Ship: None#Mira writes#OC: Delia#OC: Girl/Nova#Guest Character: Rigel/Spencer
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Whumpmas in July Day 3
Lost
This is not exactly whump, but y'know we gotta do that good old Kai backstory development for wij 😂 just a bit of Kai being metaphorically lost, I guess. Warnings for implied government/military violence and alcohol ig lol this one is quite tame.
This was dangerous, they knew. More so now than ever, with the endless background checks and random surveillance to prove their loyalty before they are allowed to join the military. But they were careful, and they hadn't seen most of these friends for three years, had barely even had any contact with them for their safety, and it was only going to get more difficult in the future, with the decision they just made. This was going to be goodbye, with some of those friends. They couldn't understand their decision, and really, if they asked themself, they weren't sure what they were thinking either.
"So..." Someone turned to them, downing a shot of liquor before they continued. They've known her since they started first grade, and back when protests were still legal, they had gone to many together. "Do you... know what you're doing? With this?"
It was an awkward conversation, no one quite knew what to say, and most of the questions anyone thought to ask trailed off, vague whenever it came to asking about the future. Kai sighed. "I don't, man. I'll be honest, I don't." They knocked back the drink in their hand, making a face. "I don't know what the future holds, I'm just gonna have to take it one step at a time. I mean, I'll just be doing... research, right? And I'll help others fight, wherever I can. What else can I even do?"
They weren't going to say it out loud here, but as much as they believed in the necessity of violent resistance sometimes, it seemed hopeless for some young people with guns to go against the military that has had decades to solidify their power even before the coup. Things were getting worse now, and looking around the room, they couldn't help but wonder how many of their friends would be dead within the next year or two if they insisted on fighting. They would be safer if they kept their heads down, didn't start trouble, but they knew that would change. Not fighting back only delays the danger, and when they come for you, it'll be too late to fight. They just had to figure out what fighting meant for themself.
They all sat on the floor in silence until the bottles of alcohol everyone brought ran empty. Kai could feel the judgement hanging heavily in the air even if everyone tried to hide it, and they couldn't argue that they didn't deserve it. When they walked out of the safe house into the cold night air, someone put a hand on their shoulder, and after all these years, they couldn't remember who it was. "Find your way home safe," They said. They were back in their country now after years of trying to run, but that night and for many more after it, they weren't sure how to find the home they left behind again.
#whumpmasinjuly#Whumpmas in July#wij#wij2022#Whumpmas in July No. 3#Lost#it's like the early afternoon I hate writing during the day#anyway#a bit of advice for you kids#if you're not sure what to do with your life after graduating#joining a military that kills anyone that criticizes them is uh#maybe#not the best move#but hey what do I know I've obviously never done that#I know exactly what I wanna do after graduating#trust me bro trust me#t r u s t m e
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Whumptober - Day 26: Migrane (full series on ao3)
-
“I need you like I need a hole in the head,” Jiang Cheng told Nie Huaisang stiffly. “Or perhaps, more accurately – as much as you clearly need me.”
It was a good exit line. Brilliant, even, which was why Jiang Cheng’s terrible luck made sure he was struck down with a horrific migraine later that day before he could finish packing up what he needed before he left Qinghe for good.
There’d been more than he’d anticipated: spare sets of robes, crowns for his hair, books he was halfway through reading, a spare seal for finalizing paperwork…even a beautiful placeholder for Sandu and Zidian made out of forged iron that Nie Huaisang had commissioned for him personally.
(He was taking that. It was his, no matter – everything.)
But before he could actually leave, the migraine hit. It was one of the bad ones, the sort that meant that flying was out of the question, the ones for which nothing would help but lying in a dark place for a few hours until it passed.
Nothing would help, but Jiang Cheng still didn’t exactly protest when Nie Huaisang crept in after a while with a cold cloth for his eyes and forehead and a warm one for his neck, some medicinal incense that didn’t smell too strongly, and some bread to help ease the nausea. He didn’t protest when Nie Huaisang gingerly settled into his usual place, when he picked up a book to quietly read aloud, careful not to be loud enough to bother the migraine, when he let his free hand run through his hair…
“Why didn’t you tell me,” Jiang Cheng said.
Nie Huaisang’s hand stopped moving.
“I would have helped you, if I knew,” Jiang Cheng said. His eyes were closed, even under the cool cloth; he didn’t want to risk seeing Nie Huaisang’s face right now. “Instead you let me – I shared Jin Ling with him.”
“That’s why,” Nie Huaisang finally said. “You’re good at so many things, A-Cheng, but you’re no liar. It’s one of my favorite things about you. If you knew, you would never have let him near Jin Ling – and then he would want to know why.”
“You could have –”
“Not without evidence.”
“You were afraid.”
“Yes,” Nie Huaisang said. “I was, but not the way you think. You would have leapt to my defense, believed me without question…and when it all came out, if we didn’t win it all at once, he would have found a way to turn the tables to his advantage, and then he would punish us both. Me, he’d probably just kill, but you…”
He hesitated. Jiang Cheng waited.
“His claim to Jin Ling is stronger than yours. And Jin Ling was so young…it wouldn’t have been hard for him to change his mind about you, if he were the only one around.”
It was nothing Jiang Cheng didn’t know already, and yet hearing it all laid out like that – something that had been considered and discarded, knowing that Nie Huaisang had decided to leave him in the dark out of love rather than indifference…
“Fuck,” he said. “Now I have to unpack.”
Nie Huaisang’s laugh was full of relief.
#whumptober2020#no. 26#migraine#mdzs#the Untamed#jiang cheng#nie huaisang#my fic#my fics#remember how I said some of these weren't really whump?#yeah this
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Ooh, I'm very intrigued by "witcher jask whump" if you haven't talked about it already? <3
oh you coming right for the whump, huh? but don't yell at me later, darling (jk, pls do).
"Mister Pankratz. Our esteemed lab rat, though that is a bit too low for your title, I'm afraid. Pardon me while I look for a better analogy, then. In the meantime, let me introduce you to your plan. You will be pleased to find out that the body of an adult human is much more suited to survive the Trials than that of a child, so there should really be nothing for you to fear hre. That is, if you turn a blind eye to the emotional, psychological and physical trauma that will come with the torture-like treatments. But, personally, my coins are on your survival, what with being the Witcher's bard and all. Do not disappoint me, Julian."
jaskier becomes a witcher because some Bad People (maybe a cult, maybe stregobor) decide to fuck around and replicate the serum. maybe after the mountain or sometime before when he isn't travelling with geralt, jaskier gets captured by them. he is the only one of the first batch to survive. but at what cost?
He wakes with a start, and immediately everything is wrong again His heart should be racing, but it's too slow, unable to catch up with all the panic and distress he can't feel anymore. No, that's wrong, too. He does feel it. He shouldn't. But he does.
Because he is wrong.
He takes a breath, then another, takes stock of his mind, What he remembers. What he doesn't.
He doesn't know where he is.
But there is a name, a shadow of a memory. The sound if it coming from chapped lips pulled into a grimace that will forever haunt him.
A name. His name. It's right there, just out of reach, impossible to grasp when there are too many sensations cagin ghim, assailing him, petrifying body and mind.
He takes a deep breath, quiet enough not to disturb the silence of the room, and tries to remain calm. There is nothing to ground him, though, and suddenly he is floating, trying to remember the name.
Grasses.
No.
Dreams.
No! Not a dream, not a dream, not--
Mountain.
His hands are shaking where they are resting on the bed, and the panic spreads through him like a wildfire. No more. Not again, no more memories, no more feelings, no more, please!
Flower.
The world turnes dark once more, pulling him under and away from the heavy dread that has made it hard to breathe. The last sign of life before the darkness pulls him under feels important. It feels old. Familiar. It feels like...
Like a name. Jaskier.
Then, only darkness.
he loses his mind because his brain is not used to his sentences being so sharp, the only thing he knows is pain and overstimulation because every single sensation is more intense than it was before. he gets headaches all the time, sensory overload, wants to hide and cry and curl into a ball and just wants it all gone, wants to rest and adjust but he can't because they're sending monsters his way -- maybe even new breeds of monsters, a la s2 -- so he can practice his slaying and so they can run tests and see how good their New Witcher is.
jaskier also keeps secret journals during his torture.
Grasses.
Dreams.
Mountain.
Things I used to love. Things I used to feel, things that were proof of being alive. I don#t love them anymore. Now, I'm alive and wish I weren't don't understand.
Grasses.
Dreams.
Mountain.
No choice. No smiles, no point.
Only pain.
They say there's more. Another Trial. Don't know how many are left.
They say it's time. For the Trial of Bards.
Am scared.
this goes on for a few months until geralt finds him, kills those people, takes jaskier somewhere safe and sits with him in absolute silence. jaskier cries then, beraks down and sobs, "it's all a lie"
"what is?"
"you said they don't feel."
"hm?"
"you said witchers don't feel. you said witchers don't fucking feel but it's a stinkin' lie because i sure as hell feel, geralt. pain, anger, hate, confusion, i'm--. you lied. you lied geralt. and i wish you hadn't because i dont want to feel!"
"or... or maybe they tried to take that, too. maybe they weren't done with me, maybe i could have not ended up feeling everything with more intensity than before, which is a fucking rich thing for a bard who's in love with a witcher to say, but... i don't... i want, i--i need..."
"i'm here, jask."
"that. yeah, that. i need that."
#the witcher#geraskier#jaskier#geralt of rivia#jaskier whump#whump the bard#witcher jaskier#nat rambles#wip game#so. sorry? :D#this does have a few winter soldier elements probably but also jaskier's mind is just very susceptible to trigger words#what with a bard knowing the power of words etc etc
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Werner - time to wake up
Thank you all for the patience! I am so excited to show this to you :]
Tw/cw: Pet whump, kidnapped, gaslighting, starving, shock collar, (tell me if i missed anything)
__________
The floor, the walls - everything was white. There weren't any windows and only one door and a lamp filled the void. He remembered the accident, the fake rescue group. What was that? Did they want money? Or maybe… wait. There was something around his neck. Werner touched it and felt his blood turning cold. It was a collar. On the one side there was a box… was it one of these fancy shocking ones? It was bad, really bad…
He KNEW that was happening, he heard stories, but never he suspected it would happen to him. In hindsight it was stupid… but there is no use to beat himself over it now. It’s time to look for an escape. First: Were there any cameras spying on him? Second: can he take off the shock collar? And how will he avoid guards, run away and find some civilization? Will someone believe him? He was called a conspiracy theorist, before he even got a serial number on his collar. Damn. What to do, what to do, what to-
Something clicked and doors opened.
“Obiekt number 125-454-739, session number 12.“ Someone walked in. A… Trainer? “Obiect, repeat the rules to me” He looked at Werner
“Wow you really… you didn’t even bother to act like i’m new. That’s a really smart of you scums” he stood up. He knew he got a shock collar on him. He knew what would happen and that this would be painful. He knew he would get broken, eventually. So if he could tell them what he thought, just tins once…
“And here we got breaking rule number 2. I thought you were better than this, Pet” Trainer said. “Get on knees”
“Your thoughts are wrong about many-” Werner started when the shock came across his body. That was worse than what he imagined. It ran through his spine, his muscles and soon he was trembling on the floor.
“Let’s start over. Repeat your rules to me” Trainer said calmly, and the shock stopped. Werner panted heavily. He looked up at the man's face. How could you torture person and be co calm? There wasn’t sign or remorse, but it wasn’t the sadistics enjoyment of torturing others, either. Just… just calmness. Like he didn’t care at all. Werner hated it.
“Okay, okay!” He shouted in pain “I can repeat them! Just stop!”
Trainer stopped the electricity flow
“Well then, what are your rules?”
“I… I don't know?” Werner said “I’m new after al-”
And then he was again, on the floor, curling in the pain.
“Ah! stop, stop, please!” he shouted. It didn’t work.
“There… there was something about kneeling, right?” he said desperately, trying to remember what he picked up in his earlier life. The shocks didn’t end, but they became more bearable? “And the furniture is off-limits, right?”
“Pathetic little thing” Trainer crouched next to him. “Just the two of them, and not even in correct order”
“Oh, well, maybe Pet life is not for me after all-” He smiled and immediately felt the slap on his face
“Well then I guess you don’t need the food today. I will be back tomorrow. You better remember all your rules by then”
__________
He sat, back resting on the wall. The stories were true after all. He should have prepared himself better. He vaguely remembered he once wrote he didn’t and won’t consent to become Pet, but, well, it was apparently not enough.
He had to survive it somehow.
He probably won’t be able to get out, even from his cell. And who knows what waits outside, or how to find exit. It will be better to wait til he got transferred to the shop or Owner… he still had trouble believing it was his reality now. Yet, denial won't change anything, so he decided to skip phases of grief and go straight up to the last one: scheming.
As much as he wanted to believe that he won’t be like others, and won’t break, he knew those were professionals, dealing with people stronger than he. They probably knew every trick he could pull off. If he wanted to survive he had to give them what they wanted. He had to become broken.
But won’t they suspect something if he will start acting all nice and obedient now?
They must believe they’re in control, that he was just another case, like they deal every other time. Defiant in the beginning, then slowly shaped into the way they liked. But he will be the one dictating how it will happen, and he will be the only one controlling how he will break.
__________
Taglist: @heathenwhump @myst-in-the-mirror @kim-poce @whumpering-heights (sorry if missed anyone) (or tagged someone who didn't want to be tagged)
#whump#whump story#Werner#my writing#pet whump#juli#now is perfect time to post#enjoy the show!#he will have fun time at training facility
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Cold - Technoblade
Hello - this is my first post so if you see this follow me because I crave human validation 😎👍
I originally posted this on wattpad but nobody was interacting so I’m posting it here :)
Word count: 1800
Trigger Warnings: Blood/injuries
Pronouns: They/Them
Platonic/Angst/Whump
Summary: Y/n is injured and caught out in a snow storm - will anyone reach them in time?
***
The snow stung against y/n's skin, they were starting to become numb all over from a combination of blood loss and the cold. They had been trekking along since the end of the war in L'manburg; which wasn't ideal seeing as they had been pierced by a piece of debris from the explosion.
The shock of Wilbur and Techno's betrayal stung more than the physical pain itself - they needed to get away, have a fresh start. They didn't tell anyone they were leaving and they doubted anyone had even noticed. Y/n had no clue where they were going and had had the misfortune of ending up in the snow.
The cold was really starting to have an effect on their body, their skin had a waxy look to it and they were shaking like a leaf due to the lack of a jacket - again, another big mistake on their part. If they didn't find anywhere dry and warm soon they feared that they would either bleed out or freeze to death - neither of which were very nice options. Their crisp white shirt was soaked through with crimson, they weakly tried pressing their hands up against the wound only for them to come away slick with blood.
As they pushed themselves up from the ground a spark of pain shot through their body causing them to sink even deeper into the snow; on second thoughts, maybe a nap wouldn't be so bad - the snow was nice and comfy after all. They curled up and slowly lost consciousness.
***
Techno continued on his horse Carl, searching for his home that had secretly been in the works for months, it was hidden far away from L'manburg - he doubted that they wanted to see him after the little stunt that him and Wilbur had pulled. It was located by a village in a snowy land that he had just entered; he pulled his large cloak closer to him, it was thick and kept him warm even during the harshest winters.
He was starting to approach the forest near his home when he saw a small pink stain to his right, thinking it could be an animals print he approached. He jumped off of Carl and peered down at it - it looked to be a footprint, but nobody knew where he lived. That wasn't right.
He peered up to see more going up over a snow mound, he followed the trail to see them getting crisper and darker, they eventually joined together to make a continuous line of blood - these were clearly fresh, but the question was, who or what had caused them?
He made it to the top of the mound and looked down to see the trail lead to a large crimson stain against the fresh snow. He picked up speed and saw a mop of (hair length and colour) hair - he recognised that, it was y/n. What on earth where they doing out here?
He ran towards them in a state of panic - how long had they been here?! He fell to his knees beside them and flipped them onto their back. Their skin had a greyish-blue tint to it and frost had formed on their eyebrows and lashes. He unclasped his cloak and went to scoop them up when he was suddenly hit by the severity of the situation - they were bleeding out fast, like REALLY fast. He pushed his hands against the wound; even their blood was ice cold. He felt something nudging his shoulder and whipped around to see Carl by his side.
He weighed out his options and carefully wrapped them up in his cloak, the deep red a stark contrast to the fresh snow. He sat atop of Carl and rode into the forest with them in his arms. The silence was all of a sudden eerie and crushing compared to the peace he felt from it earlier. The trees sped past him in a blur and he finally made it to his quaint wooden cottage, he tumbled to the ground in a panic and dismounted y/n from his noble steed.
***
Y/n lay there in the snow: it seemed more solid than before, and warmer, and- where were they? This definitely wasn't how they remembered it, the cold was no longer wrapping its death grip fingers around them, they no longer felt stinging on their front - infact they felt pressure wrapping round their middle.
They forced their eyes open slowly, that really did not help with the pounding in their skull. They gazed around the room, they could faintly make out a shape in the corner - it looked to be a rapier, they weren't interested in getting on this persons bad side. They didn't know where they were and were starting to panic - who had done this?
They could make out the faint shape of bandages by their waist, unfortunately their shirt was still stained - whoever had done this couldn't have even cleaned their shirt or something smh. Pick a struggle.
They pulled the blanket closer to them, it was very comfortable; it was quite heavy and had a fur trim around the edge almost like Techno's--
Nononono- they couldn't be here. He had betrayed everyone. They had trusted him - to some extent anyways. They sat up abruptly - not smart. They let out a gasp of pain, the dark threatened to consume their vision. They placed a hand on the edge of the mattress to steady themself. After much trial and error they managed to sit upright.
They calmed themselves enough to take another look around the room. There were a few worn maps on the walls showing L'manburg and its surrounding areas - their heart ached at the sight of the familiar structures; party island, the podium, the various towers dotted all over the land - all gone, all blown up.
There was a small fire illuminating the dark room, and also the mass on the floor. Their blood ran cold - colder than it already was anyways - y/n had hoped for some time to leave before he got back. Luckily he was asleep on the floor and was a relatively deep sleeper. They slowly but surely pushed themselves up from the bed and wobbled towards the door, leaning on the walls for support. This was perfect, they would be able to make it away before he even woke up!
"What are you doing?"
Ah- turns out he wasn't a deep sleeper, that was a fatal flaw in the plan.
They slowly turned around to see a sleepy but amused Technoblade stood in the middle of the room staring at them.
"Uhh- I was going on a walk." 👀🤠
"Is that so?"
....
"Yup."
They started aggressively coughing, the speaking hurting their cold and sore throat.
"Get back in bed, you need to rest," >:(
"I'm fine, I don't need to rest - resting is for the weak."
"Everyone has to rest, even I rest."
"That's because your weak."
He stared them in the eyes, looking thoroughly unimpressed.
👁👄👁
"Are you sure about that?"
"Yeh."
"Get in bed."
"No."
"Yes."
It went on like this until he started to walk towards them - slightly pissed off. He picked them up and placed them onto the bed.
"I don't need to rest!"
As soon as they said that, coughs wracked their body.
"You sure about that?"
They quickly tried to sit up to run off while his guard was down - but he pushed them back down as soon as they attempted anything. He held their arms down so that they couldn't escape, they tried wriggling free but to no avail. They quickly gave up.
"As much as I want you to rest right now, it's freaking me out that I can hold you down this easily."
"What are you talking about- I'm" their sentence was interrupted by more coughing "-super -strong"
He gave them a skeptical look not buying a word of their bullshit.
"I'm gonna go get you some water for that cough, you stay right here - okay?"
They nodded.
He walked off and climbed down the ladder.
They crawled out of the bed, ignoring his very clear rules and made their way over to the map of L'manburg on the wall. They stroked the coarse paper littered with so many of their favourite places - the forest where they liked to make flower crowns for everyone, the cliff top where they could think about life and how it's so very meaningless. 😶
Y/n sunk to the floor; tears threatening to spill from their eyes. It was so unfair, a beautiful nation destroyed by power hungry people. They had no idea whether Wilbur was still alive, they never saw him after the explosion. They missed him, they missed the land before the government - where they would all dance to Wilbur's songs around the campfire speaking nothing of governments and laws.
"Y/n?"
Techno walked up behind them and hesitantly placed a hand on their back, not knowing what to do because, social situations are awkward dude - am i right?
"You good?"
They whipped around slamming their fist into his chest in a futile attempt to hurt him,
"It's all your fault!" They said through tears, "We trusted you!"
He took their fists in his hands, staying silent while they had their tantrum. They soon grew tired; slumping into his chest, staining his shirt with their tears. They stayed their for a while, his embrace warm but his attitude still cold.
***
I did not proof read so if there is a section that got deleted or some shit then just let me know 🧍♂️
Please send me requests people (no smut/nsfw) - make sure to include pronouns pls.
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First Shot
wordcount : 2k+
content / warnings : futuristic whump, lady whump, defiant whumpee, electrocution, hunted, animal attack, starvation, human experimentation, animal death, graphic depictions of violence, eating live animals, leg injury
I was planning for a simple running off from wild animals story but stuff happens. The story got dark. Tag : @summer-of-whump
***
Previous Chapter
Avis woke up with a shiver. Wind gushes through her hair. Little thorns prickled at her back. She tried to heave herself up, but there's a twinge of pain in her arms that runs deep into her bones. It was dark, but she could smell the rain, hear the sound of leaves rustling and crickets chirping. She needs to get up. Keep moving. This isn't the lab anymore. She has to go back. Avis slowed her breathing. Her finger clawed into the ground. Grass brushing against her palm. With a count of to three, she heaved herself up. Pain flared on her arm. She grimaced. Pushing her body to stand was easier.
Every step was uncertain. Bare feet meets fallen twigs. The sound of it breaking is almost deafening. She felt around. Trees, moss, and stone. Avis was afraid she's going around in circles. But she's free, as baffling as it is. Last thing she remembered was the lab. The oxygen mask. John and Lisette. Fenrir.
Did they left her her because they thought she's dead? The test, whatever it is, was a blank in Avis head. Possible memory wiping technology? Too many question marks. Potential threats to report when she managed to get back to her friends.
"Hello, Miss. How are you feeling?" The voice made her jump. She turned her head, frantically looking where it came for.
"Down here. Look at your feet."
Sure enough, there's an ankle bracelet. Avis did the sensible thing to do, prying at it so it falls off. It was glued to her legs.
The voice speaks again, "This is the test we were preparing you for. Don't worry, the serum will kick in soon and fingers crossed it works. Now, I'd like you to—"
"Go fuck yourself, John." Avis spat. She grabbed a sturdy looking branch. Clenching her jaws, she forced it between her ankles. Avis let out a small yelp, as the twig tears apart the fused flesh and machine. Drops of blood falls along her toes. Still, she kept going without hesitation.
A nasty crackling noise send Avis movements into a halt. Her entire body jerked as electricity pierced her ankles and burned her veins.
"If you tried to break free then I'll zap you again. Got it?"
Avis tried to speak, but her teeth was still chattering from the aftershocks. She could hear Lisette murmuring on the other side. The girl was too far from the mic for anyone to clearly hear.
John went on, "I really don't want to do this. The more we hurt you, the more likely this project fails and you die. But you took things to an extreme."
"I'm a Heretic, I have to do what I have to do," Avis muttered. Her ankle cuff buzzed a noise that might have been an exasperated sigh.
"I urged Professor Clayton to release you without the shock bracelet. I don't want to reinforce your group's indoctrination that we're sadistic tyrants. But I guess he's right. You and your people are beyond saving."
"I don't need a baby-faced intern who looked like he could die if he lift a potato sack to save me."
Lisette's laugh can be overheard from the speaker.
"That goes for you too, Lise. You're complicit in this," John gruntled. "Fair enough, answer me, Miss. How do you feel? Avoid using profanities, please."
"Like I've been electrocuted, dear boy."
"Other than that. Emotions, physical conditions, list everything."
Avis frowned. It would be so easy to flip him off. Why would she answer to some milquetoast intern about how she feels? The boy might never even starve in his life. Her jaw and gums hurt. After the shock, her ankle felt strangely heavy. There's a veiled threat in his words. They injected her with something.
"How do you feel, Heretic?"
Do you even know my name?
She pick herself up, looking at the distance. Now she could see faint outlines of the trees around her. Faint glints of light hidden in branches. A camera? Avis stared at it.
"Hungry."
"Good, good. How about your emotions, and your perception. Compare to what you see and hear when you first wake up to now."
"A-agitated. Pissed. I want to kill you. My left arm hurts. My teeth hurts." Avis stopped, composing her thoughts. The tip of her fingers felt foreign. As if it belonged to someone else. She wondered what Sherman are doing now.
"Miss."
"Sorry. I'm thinking about my friends."
There's that buzz again. She could discern it. General interference and background noise. Keyboards clacking. Pen scratching at paper.
"Why do you think of them?" John's voice sounds so clear. Sickening. Avis could hear his breath. It was slightly shallow. Did this kid has ashtma? The image of him wheezing to death as she slowly crush his windpipes made a tight sensation in her belly.
"Dunno. Can you stop talking? Your voice makes me want to gnaw at my ankle."
"Alright. Answer my question first, Miss. Any significant change in your senses. This could be vision, hearing, smell, anything."
Avis point at the hidden cameras, "One, two, three, four, there might another one over there, but I need to come closer."
She put a hand on her stomach. It's like there's a hole in there. Somehow it reminds her of the well in her parents' house. The twinge on her arm had dissipate, replaced by a dull throb coming from the inside of her gums. There's just so many things she doesn't see or hear before. Hard to keep track. Her thoughts were jumbled, running all over the place. John muttered a curse.
"John, I thought you said there's no need for profanities."
"You're not supposed to hear that. It's the serum."
Avis froze. The buzzing thoughts stopped. Cold panic gripped her chest. The forest she's starting to feel familiar with becomes unrecognizable. As if someone had brought her to a mirror world. The trees and rocks similar, yet still a twisted replica of itself. How could she not notice?
"What did you do to me?"
"It's only temporary, calm down."
She hissed. Avis took a start, crouching on the ground. The cameras are more than blinking lenses. She could see the machines, the holes it's stuck to. She lunged at the closest one. Her thoughts blend into a murky set of instinct and sensation. Lisette shouted in the background. Avis bit at the lenses, and pulled. She bashed it on to the trees. Stray cables flew.
There's still more eyes watching her. A few trees away. She took a step back, lowered her body, and—
An ear-piercing scream echoes throughout the woods. Her vision went dark. Her body convulsed. Avis fell. She grunted as her back collide with ground.
Still pumped with adrenaline, Avis practically jumped from the ground. Her head flinched back before she speaks. "C-coward! Where are you!"
Another shock. Blood leaked from her ankle. Avis curled in on herself. She blinked away her tears.
No, I'm not going to die like this!
Her body wailed in protest as she heaved herself up. They tased her again. And again.
She lay there for a while, afraid to move. Her fingers twitched. Something had grown in the tips of her nails.
"You're allowed to move now," the voice from the bracelet said. It was deeper. Older. "Please stand."
Getting up was a chore. Avis almost flinched as she expects another sting. One of her feet feels heavy. She leaned at a tree, trying not to move so hard. The gnawing feeling at her stomach is stronger now. She was still shaking and her ankle hurts everytime the skin touches the bracelet.
"I'm so sorry for ruining this Professor," John said.
"Don't be sorry. She's still awake. Project Fenrir, would you please tell me about your injuries?"
Avis grimaced, "You burned my ankle."
"How about your hunger?"
She wondered what Professor Clayton looked like. Until now the man only exist as a name John and Lisette talked about. How big is his head? Does it fit into her mouth? Avis shook her head. Disturbing that the serum made those thoughts came so easily to her.
"You didn't see me eating did you?"
"Aside from the camera I guess not."
"Thought so."
Maybe eating the head is unwise. It would satisfy her anger but it might hurt her jaw. Avis hope this professor is fat. More meat to fill her sick.
"I want to eat you, old man."
"We'll feed you. Soon. This is your test. We will send you a moving obstacle. Defeating them will grant you food. The wound in your ankle might hamper your movements, but if you're as skilled as your file suggest, I believe you can survive them. Good luck!"
Avis cursed under her breath. They left her no choice but to obey. She put her finger into her mouth. Her teeth had grown. Sharp edges and bigger fangs. She hoped the change isn't too drastic. Her friends would have a hard time finding her if she looked like a monster. James kids' would be afraid of her and she couldn't be their nanny anymore.
She should keep moving. Whatever that moving obstacle was, it's not going to be pretty.
Despite her limp, it was easier to navigate the forest. She had adjusted through the dark, and the uneven terrain wasn't so rough after you noticed it's patterns. It was an artificial forest. For miles there was no animal or a single fruit growing in the trees. The ground won't be too altered by the vegetation.
James had taught her once about the fake forests. The trees are real and organic, everyone knows that. But what's unsettling was it's history. Years ago, when the seeds of the trees weren't even made. The Empire was given a choice of which artificial plant variety it's going to use for conservation efforts. They chose the ones unable to bear fruit. The official documents said it produce oxygen more than the others. Besides, most of the land animals that can survive without human intervention had gone extinct. But the thing killed nearby wild plants. Soon enough, the main source of food are from corporate farms and their trademarked seeds.
Avis thought about James while she aimlessly walked in the forest. How he might think, working as a forester and having to plant the artificial seeds. She missed him. She missed Sherman, Emmett, Nancy, pretty much everyone. She hoped they made it out of the city.
A howl tore through the forest. The hurried steps making a beeline to Avis location. She heard panting and leaves crunching. It was a pack. Avis crouched, running more with her hands than her feet. She made a turn. The wolves changed their direction.
The animals were more intelligent that it supposed to. It doesn't seem to follow Avis by a trail. Everytime she repositioned herself the wolves follow. Always a straight line to her. It wasn't long until her throbbing ankle made her trip. Avis bit her lip. She shouldn't make a noise. She grabbed at her bracelet, desperately pulling at it so her burns get a chance to breathe. The footsteps grew louder. She clenched her teeth and started to stand.
The ground was spinning under her feet. Avis staggered. She was out of breath. Her stomach is growling.
Left foot, right foot. Come on, move!
Her face meets the forest floor. The hairs in the back of her neck stood up. A growl. Right behind her.
It dragged her by the neck. The other lunged at her face. Avis clawed and kicked. It hits the air. Another touches flesh. She smelled blood. Her throat was dry. She heard a yelp. It pulled her out of panic. Avis crawled as fast she could. They can't make her kill these animals.
One wolf caught her by the hair. They yanked her off the ground. She land head first onto a tree. She slid down, only to be bit by the ribs and feet. Avis flailed her claws into the air. They dropped her.
The smell of blood was too much. It filled her nostril. The emptiness in her middle ached. Avis lost. Her teeth finds flesh. Her ears barely register the dying cry of the two dogs. She chewed. She swallowed. Warmth filled her stomach. Nerves flared in delight.
When Avis came to her senses, there was only her and two carcass.
"Congratulations, Fenrir. You passed your first test with flying colors."
Next Chapter
#whump#whump fic#oc whump#whump series#lady whump#lady whumpee#dead dove do not eat#animal attack#animal death#electrocution#defiant whumpee#starvation#human experimentation#futuristic whump#summer of whump#summerofwhump#summerofwhump9#leg injury#injury whump
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Wait I just realised something
So along with "It's Only A Paper Moon" hitting me hard bc. Well it's that episode, I think a tiny part of why I like it so much is it reminds me of one of my own really big life-changing injuries (kind of a minor one tbh but it did change my life)
Thankfully I have not gotten any limbs shot off, but back in high school I got a concussion (basically nobody in my gym class liked me and I suck at volleyball. So everyone thought it might be funny to get me up close to the net and then spike the ball into my face. Their plan worked brilliantly and I fell on my ass and got my brain rattled by the volleyball and hitting my head pretty hard on the floor. I think I also bit my lip or something bc I remember tasting a pretty big amount of blood? But after that point my memories are kind of Weird. Which is to be expected directly after a conc cussion I do believe) that basically like. Well the funky combination of having my brain get rattled and realising how fragile life is, how easily I could've fallen badly or had my neck snapped back from the force of the ball, how much worse that all could have gone, the weird terror that came from noticing my thoughts weren't working the way they were supposed to but barely being able to notice and thus my few coherent thoughts on top of my weird injured euphoria being "This is wrong and you're going to die this is it you fucked up your brain"
And then the bitter frustration of having to relearn some basic functions of life (it wasn't too bad for me, but I struggled to read for a few weeks, among other things. Aside from that I've always been a ridiculously good reader so that was shitty. Also kept getting migraines and my hands shook more than usual, and I was generally just really fucking tired and light sensitive for a while) and feeling angry at myself for not being as competent as usual and having to take time to heal, then sitting and stewing on that all when I was closer to fully healed...
Yeah that hits some familiar buttons. I'm just glad my concussion basically knocked the depression out of me when it was done instead of sending me spiraling (turns out confronting your mortality and being determined to make your life better while your brain reorganises itself does wonders against depression. That said I do not recommend getting a concussion please avoid it). Since I couldn't read or watch tv/movies I didn't have any media I grew particularly attached to during my healing, so I was kinda forced to be very introspective bc most of my time was spent napping or sitting silently. If I'd been able to go to a holosuite and try and forget about it all for a while I probably would have, and I wonder how that might have changed me, if I'd been able to escape that introspection.
Anyways. Usually I love some good character trauma whump sorta shit but like. It's especially interesting when it begins to parallel your own experience. It's fun but also makes you wanna cry in a "Good whump" sorta way and ALSO makes you wanna cry in a "Hmm that one's a little close to home isn't it" sorta way
#don't reblog#basically I wanna hand Nog a cuppa and tell him 'Yeah dude shit sucks I feel you'#unicorn rambles
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Whumptober Prompt #1: shaky hands
A/N: so I've never posted any writing on here, but I loveeeee whump so I wanted to participate in Whumptober this year. This fic is for miraculous ladybug and takes place right after Miracle queen so if you haven't seen it prepare for spoilers. I might make a second part to this if you guys want it, but for now please enjoy!
Chloe looks between her parents, their smiles and the look of love in their eyes is something she wanted her whole childhood, yet now that it was happening it made her enraged. She yelled in frustration before storming past them and up to her room. None of this was fair, she could've had what she wanted this whole time, but now things weren't going how she wanted.
She begins to pick up different objects and throw them around her room, continuously yelling out curses and her frustrations. Why couldn't anything she planned go her way? Even when her plans were arranged the way she wanted they never felt genuine, she just wanted people to love her for who she was, but she also didn't want to get hurt anymore.
Chloe paused as she spotted the homemade Queen Bee costume on the floor, the one her and Sabrina use while playing. She stomped over, picking up the stretchy fabric and attempted to rip it. When the fabric refused to tear she grabbed a pair of scissors and started cutting and tearing until there were scraps of yellow and black fabric all over the floor. Her eyes began to sting as she sunk to the floor, picking up some of the pieces.
She needed to talk to Ladybug, she didn't really mean what she said, she was just so frustrated and no one had ever taught her how to deal with frustration or really with any of her emotions. She picked up her phone and looked at her contacts, noticing how few she actually had when it came to real friends. She considered calling Sabrina, but decided against that when another name caught her eye.
She let out a small whimper as she clicked on the call button. It had been a while since they talked and she began to wonder if they were even friends anymore.
"Chloe?" Chloe chuckled shakily, relieved he had even picked up his phone. "Chloe, are you okay?"
"Adrien…" Chloe let out another small sob before putting the phone down, breathing deeply to control herself. After a few seconds she put the device back to her ear. "Chloe, are you still there?"
"Yeah, sorry about that. Adrien I need…I need to talk with Ladybug…" She felt ashamed for talking about this, Adrien must have seen the news, he must hate her, he has to know what she did, there's no way he doesn't know.
"Chloe, are you sure you're okay?" Adrien asks after a moment of silence. Chloe can feel herself losing control again, she needs to be quick.
"I'm fine, can you just ask that Alya girl if she has a way to contact Ladybug?" She says a little too sharply. She sighs again. "Please?"
"Sure, Chloe. You know, if you aren't okay you can talk to me about it right?" Chloe laughs lightly.
"Thanks, Adrien." She hung up before he could even say goodbye.
Chloe was on her way to class before Alya approached her in the locker room and stopped her, a glare piercing through Chloe.
"Adrien said you wanted to talk to Ladybug. What I want to know is why you think you even have the right to ever speak to Ladybug again?" Alya crosses her arms, the glare still there.
Chloe felt anger boiling up even though she knew Alya was right. "It's none of your business why I want to talk to her. Just tell her to meet me at the Eiffel tower tomorrow." Alya looks both angry and amused.
"No, Chloe. I'm not going to tell Ladybug anything. I don't know if you remember this, but I was there when you attacked Ladybug. I saw the aftermath and I saw the news recording of the part of the fight I don't remember. You betrayed Ladybug, you betrayed Paris. I'm not going to let you hurt her again or anyone again, so I'm saying no, you won't be seeing Ladybug." Chloe could feel despair crushing her as she stared at Alya.
Alya scoffed before she walked out of the locker room, leaving Chloe all by herself. Chloe could feel a sudden chill spread through her body as it trembled. No, she can't break down at school, that's unacceptable. She walked towards the back of the room and sat on the floor against the lockers as she felt herself suffocating.
She couldn't breathe, her vision went fuzzy and blurry with tears. This was ridiculous, she had thought all of this before, why was she freaking out? She felt like she was out of her body, unable to control herself she kept hyperventilating and shaking. She stared at her hands and how they quivered, before clenching them into fists, feeling the frustration boost her anxiety.
Suddenly a door opened loudly and there was a sound of running and muttering about being late. Chloe tried to cover her mouth so she couldn't be heard by the passing girl, but it was too late.
Marinette peeked around the corner with worry etched on her face until she saw Chloe, the worry turning to confusion. Chloe put her face in her hands, hoping Marinette would just leave her alone and pretend this didn't happen, and at first it seemed like Marinette considered that option, before she slowly approached Chloe.
"Chloe?" Chloe tried curling in on herself tighter, her numb hands holding her legs to her chest. Chloe can feel Marinette sit next to her and she flinches.
"Chloe, you need to breathe…" Marinette says in a hushed voice as she reaches out and puts a hand on her arm. Chloe nearly cries at the physical affection, even if it's from someone she doesn't really like. Marinette softly rubs Chloe's arm as she continues talking, but Chloe can't focus on that, because she's too focused on the comforting feeling she gets from Marinette.
Chloe eventually pulls her face from her hands as she looks at Marinette, suddenly extremely embarrassed as she realizes how sweaty her hands are and how puffy her eyes probably look. Marinette still looks unsure, but she offers a small smile.
"Are you okay now? I didn't know you had anxiety." Marinette says in a normal voice, a hint of guilt in her voice. Chloe nods, trying to find her voice, her body still shaking slightly.
"I know you don't like me that much, if at all." Marinette starts. "But if you need someone to talk to about this stuff, you can talk to me. I have panic attacks too." Chloe's eyes widen.
"You do? You always seem pretty put together, didn't think you'd have much to be anxious about." Chloe pauses as she realised she just confessed her inner thoughts, Marinette looks at her, surprised.
"I have a lot of stress, I like doing a lot of things at once and sometimes I'm not able to handle it all. I also have a lot of responsibilities that can be really stressful." Marinette smiles at Chloe.
"Do you want to talk about what's making you so anxious?" Chloe looks down and nods.
"I want to talk to Ladybug. I need to tell her how I really feel, that I didn't mean some of the things I said." Chloe looks at Marinette, scared she'll start judging her like everyone else.
Marinette nods and stands up, offering her hand to Chloe. "I can contact her for you. I trust you have good intentions with this so I'm sure she'll agree to see you." Chloe takes Marinette's hand and stands, smiling genuinely.
"Thank you…" Chloe takes out a piece of paper and scribbles something down, before handing it to Marinette. "Give her this when you see her...please." Marinette looks surprised, before nodding and smiling.
"I'm glad we got to talk like this, Chloe."
"I am too…"
#whumptober2019#no.1#miraculous ladybug#writing#miracle queen#chloe bourgeois#marinette dupain cheng#fanfic#fanfiction#story#anxiety#whump
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