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wolfeyedwitch · 2 years

Note

soft words of reassurance for bailey (either canon or pariah prisoner version)

Pariah Prisoner, Part 4

So... I'm gonna just... deliberately misuse a comfort prompt in the name of furthering my plotline. Sorry. I promise I'll have more comfort soon. I have Plans. This also serves as my WIJ Day 6 entry for the prompt "Hold On".

Shoutout to anyone who can tell me the two TV shows I referenced here. Bailey is a nerd.

CW: blood, injury, swearing, implied past torture/abuse, (concussion, broken nose, dislocated shoulder already happened and are mentioned), stabbing

Masterlist

---

“Okay,” Bailey muttered, trying to gather their thoughts. The scattered ideas felt like stained glass, sharp-edged and glittering. They wanted nothing more than to sit down and think of nothing while waiting for the worst of their pain to pass.

But they couldn’t. Their directions, their powers, were the only things that were going to get the heroes out of here.

There was a job that needed doing, so they would do it. It was as simple and difficult as that.

“Escape Plan A failed,” Bailey said, mostly to themself. “So we’re moving on to Plan D.”

“What happened to B and C?” Foxfire asked.

“Not applicable,” Bailey said. They wanted to make a joke of it, but it wasn’t the time. Anyway, they doubted the heroes would get the reference even if they made it.

“Okay, I’ll bite,” Icarus said. Bailey warily gazed at him, wondering if he was being metaphorical or literal. “What’s Plan D?”

Metaphorical, then. Bailey let out a little sigh of relief. “Plan D is sneaking our way upstairs and going out through a window.”

There was a long moment of silence as Bailey worked on the door’s lock. Eventually, they turned to look at the heroes, who were giving them looks with varying shades of concern and doubt.

“What?” they asked.

“Could you elaborate on that plan?” Tempest asked.

“Because it seems a little…” Foxfire broke off.

Icarus finished for them. “Iffy.”

Oh. Well, that was fair. “There’s a set of service stairs. The lock for them is like this one, set into the wall, so Slipknot didn’t bother to set up cameras for them since they were the only one who could open it.”

The lock was an utter pain in the ass, honestly. It was barely more than a common turn-lock deadbolt, but the placement of it made it very secure. Slipknot could just reach in and turn the thing; Bailey had to work through a good few inches of wall to get at it.

Finally, they got a hold of the knob for the lock and started twisting. As they worked, they continued explaining. “Security is a lot tighter on the lower floors, since, you know, more likely area for breaking in and out. Which is why we’re not going there. There are enough blind spots on the higher levels that we can get to a window.”

The lock finally turned, and Bailey resisted the urge to pump their fist in triumph. They turned to face the heroes.

“The windows are reinforced,” Tempest said. “Shatterproof.”

Bailey gave a little nod. “Yeah. All of them. I have a plan for that too, though. That’s the part where timing is gonna be tricky, because I’ll have to get something, and it’s somewhere that’s monitored. We’ll have a small window of time to break the window and jump out.”

“Um…” Foxfire said. “Gravity?”

“Flight, wind, telekinesis,” Bailey said, pointing to Icarus, Tempest, and themself in turn. “Between the three of us, we should be fine. We don’t need to stop our fall, just slow it.”

Icarus still looked unconvinced, but Tempest just nodded. “Lead on,” he said.

Bailey opened the door, and the group made their way out. Bailey led them through the blindspots they’d mapped to the service stairs. They pressed themselves close to the wall while Bailey opened the locked door.

“If you can open this too, why didn’t Slipknot put surveillance up?” Icarus asked.

“Couldn’t do this originally,” Bailey said, frowning in concentration. The lock was sticking; it probably needed graphite, not that it was likely to get any.

“They don’t know you can open their special locks?” he pushed.

“No,” Bailey said, trying to keep their tone even. He had made them lose their grip on the fucking lock again. “This was self-taught, if that’s what you’re asking.”

The lock finally turned, and they opened the door to the stairs.

Now they just had to go up, and up, and up. Joy.

“How’d you learn, anyway?” Foxfire asked. Their voice was at least something more pleasant to focus on than the echoing clang of the group’s footsteps on the stairs. “It doesn’t look like it’s easy to do, so why bother?”

“Lots of exposure,” Bailey said curtly. Their head (and back, and nose, and… everything, honestly) hurt too much to keep their tone polite.

“Sneaking around behind your boss’s back, Poppet?” Icarus asked snidely.

Bailey couldn’t help but flinch at the name. They resolved that as soon as they were somewhere safe(r), they would tell the heroes their real name. Even if they sided with Icarus and decided to put Bailey down, Bailey was going to go out under their own name.

They weren’t going to remain as what Slipknot had made them into.

“Something like that,” they huffed.

It was the truth… if breaking out of the room they were locked in counted as sneaking behind Slipknot’s back. When they’d moved in, Bailey had only known about the lock on the inside of their door. They didn’t know about the one Slipknot had set into the wall, the one that could override their settings.

And that wasn’t even counting the times Bailey had frequented the cells for various lessons and punishments.

Finally, they reached the floor Bailey needed.

“Is this… a dorm?” Foxfire asked.

“Bigger rooms than your average college dorm, but close enough,” Bailey said. “This is one of the residential floors. There’s a window in the lounge. I just need to get something first.”

“What about other residents?” Tempest asked.

Bailey shook their head. “Not many of them. I wasn’t kidding about these being bigger than your average college dorm. And they shouldn’t be here anyway; this is training time.”

Which, of course, was when they ran into someone.

Viper opened her door just in time to see the four go past. She stared at them.

They stared back.

Viper looked Bailey up and down critically, gaze lingering on their broken nose and stiffly-held shoulder. She seemed to come to a conclusion, and nodded slightly.

“Hm. Seems that what I thought I heard must have been a remnant from that fever dream I was having,” she said, “because I don’t see anything out here.”

Bailey could have cried. Instead, they managed a small, shaky, “Thank you.”

She gave them a crooked smile, showing off her fangs. “I sure hope that my fever dream ends before I have my meeting with Slipknot in…” She checked her watch. “Fifteen minutes. It would be very awkward to have to explain that to them.”

She dropped the pretense and added, “Go. Get out of here.”

“Thank you,” Bailey added fervently, then led the heroes off at a run.

They got to Bailey’s room, and Bailey frantically started looking for what they needed.

“Come on, come on, I know I didn’t get rid of it, where the fuck did I put it after last time…” Bailey muttered under their breath as they pulled out drawers in their dresser.

“What the fuck was that?” Icarus demanded. “You said there wouldn’t be anyone here!”

“Said there shouldn’t, not wouldn’t,” Bailey corrected. “Forgot that Viper is on bedrest and isn’t at training. And that was our new time limit.”

“Honor among villains?” Foxfire suggested.

Bailey gave a half-hearted smile. “Something like that.”

Viper was one of the villains on the team who was halfway decent. She followed Slipknot’s orders, but she never went beyond the minimum necessary damages in training or on missions. Of all the people they could have run into during this escape attempt, she was probably the best option.

Bailey continued tearing through their room as they looked; it wasn’t as though it mattered if they made a mess, after all. They wouldn’t be coming back.

“What are you looking for?” Tempest asked. “Could we help?”

Bailey shook their head. “No, it’s— ugh, why do I still have that— it’s small, you won’t be able to help. It’s a necklace.”

“How’s that gonna help?” Icarus asked skeptically.

“It’s a diamond,” Bailey said.

Foxfire made a noise of agreement. “Not tougher than crystallized carbon,” they said.

Bailey smiled. They should have guessed Foxfire was a nerd.

“That won’t work,” Icarus said. “The force you’d have to put behind it—”

Bailey cut him off. “I can do it.”

He scoffed.

Bailey turned to glare at him. “This isn’t just your life on the line here; it’s mine, too. I’m not playing around. So unless you have a better idea? You’re gonna have to go with what I’ve got.”

They turned back to searching as Icarus gaped at them. They knew they still had it; they’d checked when they made this backup plan. And even before that, they wouldn’t have gotten rid of it. Slipknot had it made from one of the diamonds they’d stolen in the heist that led to Icarus’s intervention. It was both promise and threat, and Slipknot made sure that they wore it to every fancy occasion.

It wasn’t a collar, but it was a claim of ownership just the same.

Bailey finally found the necklace, and the group made their way to the lounge to make their improvised exit. The heroes cleared the furniture away from the window. Bailey held the diamond necklace in place with their powers, then struck it like a hammer against a chisel.

The reinforced glass spiderwebbed out from the impact.

“Well, well,” came a horribly familiar voice from behind them. “I have to admit, I didn’t quite expect this.”

Bailey turned to see Slipknot flanked by several other villains, including Viper.

They’d run out of time.

The ensuing fight was as vicious as it was chaotic. The villains weren’t holding back, using blows meant to maim or kill. Bailey did their best, but they were already at a disadvantage with their concussion and injured shoulder. Add to that the worry of protecting the heroes, as well? They didn’t really have a chance.

A stray blow sent the broken glass flying from its frame, and Bailey took their chance. “Go, go, go!” they shouted, practically pulling the heroes out the window with them as they jumped. Something cold hit Bailey’s side, but they didn’t have time to think about it. They were falling.

All of Slipknot’s sadistic training about heights paid off. With the help of Icarus and Tempest, Bailey was able to get all four of them to the ground safely.

And then they collapsed to one knee. Why… why weren’t their legs working?

They looked down to their side, where they’d felt the impact of something cold. The handle of a knife sprouted from their skin like a weed.

That’s not supposed to be there, Bailey thought.

Like a weed, they plucked it from where it wasn’t supposed to be.

That was when the pain truly set in. Bailey gasped at the sudden intensity of it, falling to their hands and knees under the unrelenting onslaught.

Suddenly Foxfire was there, hands warm against Bailey’s skin. They pressed against the wound, making the pain worse. Why were they making it worse? Bailey groaned and tried to push them away, but was too weak.

Foxfire was shouting, but Bailey had trouble focusing on the words. The hero’s face softened with something like… concern? What were they concerned about? Had one of the heroes gotten hurt?

“No, no, Poppet, look at me,” Foxfire said. “Look at me, there you go, keep your focus on me. You’re gonna be okay, just hang on. Hang on!”

Bailey smiled weakly. They rasped, “Bailey.”

“What? Don’t worry about anyone else, just keep looking at me. You’re okay; we’re gonna get you to our medic, just hang on, Poppet.”

Bailey shook their head. “Not Poppet. It’s Bailey.”

Their eyelids were so heavy, far too heavy to keep open. They smiled as their eyes slid shut. “My name is Bailey.”

They were going to go out under their own name, after all.

---

I don't kill my characters, don't kill me please! (Exceptions may apply to irredeemable whumpers. Of which I am not one. Again, please don't kill me.)

Taglist:

@heathenville @nonbinary-disaster @kim-poce @whump-world @dolls-circus @pickleking8 @appleejuice @cupcakes-and-pain @badluck990 @mylifeisonthebookshelf @pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @extemporary-whump @whumpwillow @multiple-characters1-acct @sunflower1000 @fleur-des-lore @equestrianwritingsstuff, @scp-1296 @livingforthewhump @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @suspicious-whumping-egg @kaiwewi @lelly-belly @neuro-whump @newbornwhumperfly @whumpthisway, @whumpcreations, @wicked-whump @heart4brains, @myhusbandsasemni @how-to-be-a-hero @kixngiggles @kurochan @whumpsday @extrabitterbrain @pattonvirglsanders @neverthelass @we-write-as-one @elrysdoesstuff @whumperflies-and-roses @ha-ha-one @whatwhumpcomments @ramadiiiisme @towerlesskey @emmanemanemm

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whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump · 2 years

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WIJ Day 5: Who’s your Favorite Whumpee?

(Yes this is late, I had a lot to say ok.)

Ok well I literally can’t pick just one. So here’s a list of my current crop of favorites, which is very long and yet I’m still almost certainly forgetting some:

Bo from The Shop Captive by @deluxewhump

One of the first OC whump stories I ever read and the one that introduced me to Bee’s writing. His despondence is palpable, and the way he clings to the scraps of comfort and moments of kindness he is given is as delicious as the absolutely brutal treatment he faces most of the time. The scene where he’s first getting a bath and all his injuries are exposed?? Top tier whumperflies. And the second bath scene? YES. I also love that he is not a pet whumpee, or any other scenario where he’s used to this and thinks he deserves it. He’s just a normal guy who fucked up, and is stuck in a horrible situation. Seeing him try to just survive through that, what it does to him...beautiful.

Colton from Linden and Colton by @whumpzone

Colton is probably the most dehumanized whumpee I’ve ever read about-and so every little step he makes in his healing journey fills me with so much joy. I love a good “whumpee thinks caretaker is new master” trope and this story is one of my favorite examples of it. If I ordered this list by how many times I’ve reread their chapters, Colton would be at the very top. I love how he’s been through absolute fucking hell, literally broken down and remade, and still, after so much time in darkness, he reaches for the sun. I can’t wait to see him continue to bloom.

Coriander from Lydia and Coriander by @maracujatangerine

Coriander is another whumpee who’s been through so much hell, and yet is still a goddamn sweetheart. It has been so lovely to watch him unfurl from his shell under Lydia’s care, and even show his real self to Linden! The chapter where he buys Lydia a flower, and the one where they go to the lake, are two of my all time favorite moments. This series is like a bright flower in the darkness of the BBU. I love to watch it grow!

Emery from Deserted by @whumpyblogthing

A newcomer who has quickly inserted himself near and dear to my heart. I love his defiance, which is so quickly followed by his despair. I love how he still has hope that Tristan will help him. I love that he has not given up. Can’t wait to see more of him! (Hopefully the future is kind.)

Harrow/San from Captured by @redwingedwhump

This was the first OC whump story I ever read. I distinctly remember starting the series after dinner, planning for just a quick read before bed. I stayed up for 12 more hours after that, devouring every piece of writing about him that had been posted. By the time I finished the sun had set and risen and I had a new obsession. I love Harrow’s defiance, and how that is systematically beaten out of him. The things he goes through are so brutal and chilling, and who he is at the end of that torment is so different than when he started. I’ve loved his recovery arc too, and I’m so happy to see him start to get the comfort he deserves.

Jack (and Joe) from Behavior Modification by @whumpcereal

Yeah these two rock my fucking world every goddamn time. One of the reasons this series hits so hard is because it feels like we’re coming in at the end. Jack has already suffered. He’s worked through it. He met Joe, and they fell in love, and they are so so happy together. And then Jack gets taken. And every piece of progress is methodically and brutally stripped away. And now we get to watch them scramble to make it through and pick up the pieces. Jack thinks so poorly of himself, but he’s truly one of the strongest whumpees out there. I love to see him hurting, but I think I might love to see him healing even more.

And Joe. Oh Joe. Joe is not used to being hurt. The role reversal AU is my #1 guilty pleasure, because even as a whump fan it is hard to see Joe hurt so badly. I swear he has the biggest heart in the whole goddamn world, and it’s so cruel that that love is what is used to hurt him. He and Jack are perfect for each other, and I love watching them care for each other.

Jaime from Do No Harm by @peachy-panic

Pretty sure if you performed heart surgery on me this little fucker would be nestled next to my aorta. He’s just…he’s just Jaime, you know? He’s resilient, and kind, and clever, and still going despite having the whole world stacked against him. He’s so human in his vulnerability, in his desperation when it comes to the surface. I love the small ways he finds to fight back. The big ways he learns to trust. I love all of it, all of him, always.

Kane from Kane & Jim by @whumpsday

I love this wet paper towel of a man. I love how he has truly, really learned from his past. I love how he is so desperate to make up for it. I love how fragile he is at first, how even the slightest scrap of kindness is enough to make him cry. I love watching him rebuild himself into someone that he can grow to actually like. I love his relationship with Jim and I can’t wait to see how his relationship with humanity as a whole progresses. He doesn’t believe it yet, but he is so good.

Kasper from Kas and Alec by @whumpwritings

Listen I am ALWAYS a sucker for the whumpee who is resigned to a life of misery, exploitation, and pain, only for a knight in shining armor caretaker to ride in and rescue them. Kas is so kind, and genuine, and just so fucking undeserving of the lot he’s been given. I love how it’s that genuine personality poking through that draws Alec to him. I love how Alec is instantly like, I have no right to control what you do but I do not want you to be hurt. I love them and I can’t wait to see their relationship progress.

Leo from The Fighter by @hold-him-down

Leo...my fighter :,). He lives rent free in my brain at all time (fighting my demons for me). I am in awe of him. Of how many times he has been beaten down. How many times he gets back up. He has been through so much hell that even when he’s offered safety and comfort, his body and mind both instantly reject it. It is so fulfilling to watch him piece together a semblance of safety (after many a misunderstanding). He’s so vulnerable and yet also so strong. Every time a piece with him comes out I know I’m in for a goddamn rollercoaster of emotions. I want to wrap him in soft blankets and give him warm soup and tell him that Luke is an idiot sometimes but worth his trust :)

Liam from Liam and Delilah by @whumpinggrounds

Liam my absolute beloved. Another early favorite who has kept his hold on my heart. I fucking love a big strong muscular whumpee who wouldn’t hurt a fly. The whump he goes through is so creative and chilling, and watching him try to force himself to fit Delilah’s delusional desires is heartbreaking. And the humiliation and self-blame he feels because Delilah is so much smaller than him, how can he “let” himself be hurt by her is so damn heart wrenching. I just want to give him a hug and tell him none of it was his fault :(

Matteo from The Blackmuir Reign by deluxewhump

Haven’t we all wanted to whump a snotty noble? I love how Matteo’s such an imperfect character, and how that has not stopped me from falling in love with him. I love how you can see him tamp down the shreds of his pride, how he turns to self-degradation in the name of self-preservation. He’s still so noble, and that makes it all the more satisfying those moments when he breaks. I love his tricky relationship with Therrin and I can’t wait to see what his relationship with Saxon will look like now..

Nico and Cal from Collarbones by @ilasknives

Pretty sure through some sort of common law these two are my godchildren. I love love love them. They are some of the few on this list that have been abused and brainwashed since childhood, and the effects are so absolutely devastating. I love the way that Nico, who’s view on life has been purposefully warped by Vaughn, still has hope. How he still fights back, even when it seems to get him nowhere. He has so much goddamn resilience and determination it makes me want to cry. Vaughn has tried so hard to stamp out any light in his heart, and still, still, he is kind, and loving, and caring, and protective.

I love the way that even though these two hate each other sometimes, and are made to hurt each other all the time, in the end it’s them who patches the other one up and puts them to bed. Because they’re family, and that’s forever.

Zee from The Frathouse Box Boy by deluxewhump

That’s my son your honor...Listen when I first read this I actually wasn’t all that into pet whump, but I’m pretty sure this story is so powerful it rewrote my brain waves. I have never witnessed so much growth and character development in a single work, and I have never seen it done so goddamn naturally. I love how he is so devoted to the people in life he cares about. I love that he can be a little shit sometimes. I love that more and more now he sees what he wants and goes after it. I love every new part of him we get to see.

Honorable Mention:

Arlowe and Artie by ilasknives, who have yet to be officially introduced but already have a complete hold on my heart.

#wij22day5 #whumpmas in july #whump rec #whump recs

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its-my-whump · 10 months

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Whumpmas in July Day 9: "Stay with me."

A light, but constant slapping on his clammy cheek. The hand doing it is pleasantly cool on his hot face.

His skin is only hot, because that hand had punched him in that very cheek minutes ago. He just remembered. His theeth hurt. Or maybe it had been hours? He doesn't know.

The touch agitates the bruise. It's not pleasantly cool anymore. It's cruel and intimidating. The slaps get harder.

A voice slowly reaching his attention, as do other details. His arms are bound over his head, his shoulders are burning. He's hanging limply in his restraines. His shoulder joints are about to pop. Pain crawles over his body like a colony of ants. His feet hardly reaching the floor.

His head hangs down to his chest, his eye lids are heavy. Something is dripping from his mouth, his nose, his chin. Everything hurts.

He is hot and cold, clammy and tired. His eyes refuse to cooperate.

The slapping's getting harder, more demanding. The voice's getting louder, more agitated.

"... me."

It's slowly getting through the haze in his hurting head.

" ....ay ..w...me!"

His head is lifted by a painful grip around his jaw. A firm slap, definitely the whole palm this time. His cheek burnes like fire. His head snaps to the side, eyes fly open in a haste. The fingers on his chin are gone. Everything spins, nausea hijacks his stomach.

"STAY WITH ME!" An angry voice shouts. His ears are ringing. Everything hurts even more with the senses of hearing and seeing overstimulated all of a sudden. A low groan is all he can produce, while the blurry colors in front of him slowly shift into a face with a cruel smile. The voice is calmer now.

"Ah, there you are. Fun isn't over yet."

wij masterlist

#whumpmas in july 2023 #whumpmas in july #whumpmasinjuly2023 #wij #wijday9 #whump #whump community #writing #stay with me

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cryptidwritings · 2 years

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Whumpmas in July - Day 12 : Rebellion

Whump Scenarios:

Team rescues Whumpee after a recapture. They've been reconditioned and are violent, so they have to be restrained/sedated.

Whumpee has to pretend to be compliant and wait, patiently, for the chance to end Whumper permanently.

Right Hand can no longer do the dirty work for Whumper and decides to save Whumpee. Add more angst by making the Right Hand/Villain relationship familial or romantic.

Whumpee finally takes a small step to rebel against their conditioned responses.

Caretaker dialogue prompts:

"Is it really rebelling when it's- I don't know- a human need?"

"You ARE such a rebel! I'm so proud of you!"

"I am totally a rebel. I put my milk first, then my cereal. Chaos is my middle name."

"Rebellion... Mutiny.... Overthrowing a tyrannical system of oppression... whatever phrase you want to use I'm on board, Whumpee, but it doesn't mean you can set fire to my curtains!"

#a bit more lighthearted mood because i'm feeling it lol #caretaker dialogue #caretaker #whumpmas in july #whumpmas in july 2022 #wij22 #wij22day12 #whump scenarios #whump dialogue prompts #whump dialogue #whump prompts #whump ideas #writeblr #originalfiction

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oddsconvert · 2 years

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Whumpmas in July #3 - Lost

Whumpee stares in abject horror at the leather-bound journal they found stuffed under their mattress, reading the near-indecipherable scribbles, ramblings of a mad man splattered with splotched ink across the pages. The paper was scratched deep, parts tore, and the words sloppy and frantic…rushed, and overlapping each other. A desperate warning.

Don’t trust him.

He’s a liar.

Don’t take the pills.

Get out.

They litter every page. Over and over. Whumpee was thunderstruck by the same terrifying words, leaping out of the page and shaking their wits about them. It felt like all the oxygen had been vacuumed from the room, leaving them breathless, gasping for air in struggling hyperventilations.

The handwriting on this journal was a dead giveaway… that it was Whumpee's. Whumpee’s journal, Whumpee’s writing, Whumpee’s panicked, mad ramblings. Clearly, they knew something horrible was about to happen to them, and they must have hidden the warning somewhere Whumper was never going to look.

All the lost memories… it all made sense now, all the puzzle pieces slotted together in their head. Whumper had stolen them, wiped them to a blank slate. ‘A car accident’, they’d told Whumpee. What a joke.

***

“I dragged you out of the fiery wreckage… broken and bloody. I nursed you back to health… Do you really not remember me, Whumpee?”, Whumper quizzed, looming over their bedside with a faux look of devastation to their face. Secretly rejoicing when Whumpee responded exactly how they had planned:

“I - I’m so sorry, sir. I - I don’t remember anything…I don’t - I don’t know who you are-”, Whumpee sniffles, scouring their mind for even a glimpse of what their own name is, where they are, and who the strange man staring eagerly back at them for recognition is, “my head feels like it’s about to explode-”

***

As Whumpee flipped through the journal, the pages whirring against their thumb, they finally spotted the one page that was unique. The last page.

You have to remember. Or I’ll be lost forever.

“What have you got there, Whumpee?”

Whumpee stumbles backwards with a startled gasp, slamming the journal shut, clutching it tight against their ribcage protectively - continuing their slow retreat away from Whumper.

“Wha- What did you do to me?”, a tear drips from the wells of their eye - not fully comprehending until this moment that they were deathly afraid. They were in unimaginable danger. As Whumper tilts their head and furrows their eyebrows in confusion, their eyes narrow and focus on what Whumpee has in their arms.

“What are you talking about?”, Whumper spat dismissively, slowly advancing towards Whumpee.

All those hazy gaps, all the lost memories. How could Whumpee accept the falsehood that had been fed to them within seconds, believing Whumper was protecting them? That they were suffering from amnesia after a near-fatal car crash?

“Why… Why can’t I remember this?!”, Whumpee bellows, twirling the journal in their hands to shove towards Whumpers face, “You… you were the one that hurt me?!”

Whumpee snatches their shirt upwards, their scars on full display, “you did this to me, didn’t you?”

Slashes, cuts and stabs. Explained away as the aftermath of the accident, debris stabbing into them and slicing them as they were dragged out. But deep down Whumpee always knew it wasn’t true. Whumper’s expression doesn’t falter, they’re abnormally neutral and calm - merely blinking in response to Whumpee’s accusations.

“You’re not well, Whumpee. You’re not thinking straight. Let me get your meds-”

“I’m not taking any more of that vile shit! Is that why I’m always so foggy? Why I can’t remember anything?! Y-You’ve been drugging me?!”.

Whumper advances swiftly forward, a blister pack of pills is pulled out of their pocket, and they pop out two white, chalky pills nonchalantly.

“Get the hell away from me! I won’t take them!”, Whumpee screeches, backing up against the wall and balling their fists ready to put up a fight.

“These will make you better, Whumpee…these will fix you-”, Whumper lunges ontop of Whumpee, their fingers prying and forcing their jaw open as Whumpee screams and writhes underneath, fighting to keep their jaw clenched and their mouth screwed shut, not allowing the pills to even grace their lips.

Whumper lands a sucker punch into the gut, taking advantage of the pained gasp that croaks out and shoving the pills to the very back of their throat and clamping their sweaty palm over their mouth.

Whumpee squirms and squeaks, trying to spit the pills out, but when their last remaining airway is closed with a tight pinch of their nose - they are inevitably swallowed accidentally in exchange for the privilege of breathing.

Whumpee slumps to the ground, the sweet beckoning of sleep reeling them in by the minute. They can already feel reality warp, the knowledge of what’s true and what is lies blending together and their memories melting away to harrowing gaps again.

What just happened?

Where am I?

What's happening to me?

“Let’s start again tomorrow, shall we?”, Whumper sighs, leaning down and prying the journal out of Whumpee’s unconscious grip, “We’ll lose the book this time, eh?”

@whumpmasinjuly

Drabble taglist: @whatwasmyprevioususername @whumpsday @sparrowsage @whumperfully

#whumpmas in july #whumpmasinjuly #wij day 3 #whump #whump community #whump writing #whump blog #whumpblr #whumpee #whumper #noncon drugging #memory loss #implied captivity #deception #whump writer #whump drabble #whump event

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leyswhumpdump · 2 years

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Whumpmas in July #6: Hold On

“One thing,” Whumper said to the huddled shape in the corner of the cage. “Since you’ve been so good for me, I’ll let you have one thing. Just one thing, so choose wisely.”

Whumpee looked up, blinking through knots of dirty hair. “I can have anything?”

“Within reason. Needless to say, if it’s something like the key to this cage, I do reserve the right to say no.”

Whumpee barely even hesitated. “A pillow,” they said; their head always ached so much from resting on the hard ground. “Please.”

But when they received it—thin and caseless and musty-smelling—they found themselves unable to simply lie against it. Instead their first night with it was spent on the ground as normal, the concrete cold against their skull, their arms wrapped around the pillow in a hug.

If they held on long enough, the pillow felt like Caretaker.

#whumpmas in july #whumpmasinjuly #day 6

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aceofwhump · 10 months

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Whumpmas in July - Day 9 - "Stay With Me"

Criminal Minds 9x24, Graceland 3x08, Hawaii Five-0 8x10, Lucifer 5x15, Merlin 5x13, The Crossing 1x06, When Calls The Heart 3x09

#wij23day9 #whumpmasinjuly2023 #whumpmas in july #whumpedit #my gifs #mod post #stay with me

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whump-captain · 9 months

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- Day 18 -

Prompt: Ache

@whumpmasinjuly-archive

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Ethan Trauma Episode again (◡‿◡) as a backstory bc i don't know if i've explained it well enough, this is post-canon, after Ethan's been rescued and is hiding from his former captors in Scotland. during the main story, he gets his hand chopped off but since he's possessed by an alien entity, his regeneration abilities grow it back - but Not Quite Right. lots of fun.

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CN: past loss of limb, supernatural themes, mild possession, incorrect use of icepacks (don't put them on bare skin pls unless u also have regeneration powers), chronic pain

(a word on the last tag perhaps: do let me know if my portrayal of chronic pain is in any way inaccurate or damaging. i based it on my own experiences but they're fairly new to me so im still learning.)

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It got worse when summer came. Though Glasgow was closer in weather to Alaska than to Seattle, the heat built inside the insulated university halls and Ethan often found himself dizzy with it. Air-conditioning helped, but barely - he still got tired quickly and his head hurt if he spent too long indoors. But the worst was the pain in his wrist.

It began in the morning as a stiffness in the joint and by the afternoon lecture it had grown into a constant, searing pain, like hot wire wrapped tightly to dig into his skin. Right on the seam, where human flesh met alien, living gold.

He rubbed it unconsciously through his gloves and the soft friction brought a small relief. Even through the thin leather he could feel the difference in texture - the metal skin was harder and smoother, the bones underneath it ever so slightly misshapen. It connected with his forearm in an uneven ridge of strange, raised tissue, like a scar. The ache pushed up from under it, as if trying to burst it open again.

It didn't feel right. He wanted to call it phantom pain but how could he? The new hand obeyed him so well that he sometimes forgot what he’d lost. But then he'd take off his gloves and the memory would come crashing back down - of his real hand, severed, greying as it wept the last of its blood onto a laboratory table. The ache would get worse then.

Once it had reached its peak, it settled. It didn't get stronger but neither did it fade. It was like a veil thrown over everything around him, heavy and smoke-grey. He had to strain his eyes to see through it, every thought took twice the effort to keep.

Even though it had hurt for months, Ethan wasn’t used to it. He couldn’t ignore it. The ache kept eating away at him, demanding more and more of his strength, until he found himself swaying. He leaned against his desk, hands folded behind his back, and breathed deeply to at least finish his sentence. There was still more time in his lecture but he could tell he'd lost the room. Here and there, rustles betrayed students putting their things away; some had closed their notebooks. It wasn't surprising they had noticed Ethan faltering; they’d had months to realise that he had limits. But it still left a bitter taste in his mouth when he met their expectations and ended the lecture early. As he returned the nods and goodbyes, he kept his hands hidden and kept a trembling grip on his wrist.

The moment the door had closed, he sank into his chair and cradled his hand to his chest. The pain travelled to his fingertips, like a thousand burning needles fighting their way out from under his skin. He squeezed them tight, if only to feel something different. It did nothing to distract him.

It was so familiar. It tethered him through time to a different moment of pain - of a sudden, heavy shock; a glint of a bone cleaver. And again, to the sight of his hand severed. Again, the memory of molten gold spilling out with his blood and reshaping itself into a perfect copy, down to the fingernails. Again, some force crushing his throat, not even allowing him to scream.

He screwed his eyes shut and begged his mind to return to the present. In the silent lecture hall, his own breathing seemed deafening. He rubbed circles into his palm, trying to pretend it still felt like human flesh.

He couldn’t. But still, the solidity of it carried him back into his own body. The pain was just the dull, exhausting ache that he knew, almost like an overtaxed muscle. It was his present, something he dealt with every day.

From the side pocket of his bag, he retrieved an instant ice pack. When he squeezed it, the ice-cold relief was instant. Angling his body to avoid security cameras, he took off his left glove and placed the pack on the bare, golden skin. He let his head drop forward, exhaling slowly. The anxious buzz in his head faded and then stilled.

He forgot sometimes that he wasn’t the only one hurting.

Only half of this pain was his own. The rest belonged to the being that lived inside him - impossibly alien and yet just as fragile as he was. It hated the heat. It withered and shrunk in it like paper held over a flame. And because they shared a body, Ethan felt everything it did.

He barely understood half of what it made him experience. But pain was simple. It reached across the vastness between them and connected them into this one, physical form - a healed scar joining flesh and metal.

So he closed the ice-pack between his hands; one gloved, and one alien. As the cold seeped into him, it dulled everything: the ache, the fear, the bitter memory of how things used to be. The past was nothing but a lesson. All he had was the present and the steps he could take towards whatever the future would be.

That thought seemed to echo. It gained a hallucinatory voice as the alien mind flinched and bucked against his human understanding of time. It almost felt like it was mocking him.

But then the voice dissipated into the cold and it took with it as much pain as it could.

#wij23day18 #whumpmasinjuly2023 #whumpmas in july #whump #whump writing #oc whump #ache #captain's stuff #captain's ocs #kintsugi #thru writing this i kinda realized i have chronic pain? lol #i was all happy writing like 'nice i can use my irl experiences to make this more realistic :)'#and then went like Wait Hang On #lmao

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