#whumpril day 1
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Whumpril Day 1 Panic Attack
TW: fear of death, panic attack, religion, paganism, implied human sacrifice, false god, vampire whumper, human whumpee
Ve'Qren was displeased. Every person serving in the temple knew it, though he had not told them directly.
He paced without ceasing, hissing, as though a wild cat, at anyone who had the misfortune to stand in his way, even for a moment.
After hours of this, he finally stopped, perching on his throne to stare down upon his priests. A contemplative expression replaced his prior fury.
"Lohl."
A simple name. One syllable. Common place.
But spoken from the mouth of Ve'Qren, it held horrible power.
Lohl's chest rose and fell rapidly, as he found himself unable to control his breathing. The clay room swirled around him, madly throbbing.
On shaking legs, he approached Ve'Qren, and knelt before him. He yearned for leniency he certainly did not deserve, for whatever infraction he had made on an unknown rule.
The claws of Ve'Qren danced across his face, not harming him, yet not all together gentle.
"Yes your godliness?" Lohl managed. Such well practiced words.
His heart beat faster, pounding against his ribs. This would be his fate then. Killed before the throne of Ve'Qren by the god himself.
Lohl told unto himself that it was fitting. His entire life had been used in service of his gods, why should he be now so selfish as to deny Ve'Qren his death?
"Why so nervous, my loyal servant?"
"I...I lay down my life before you, your godliness." Lohl choked down a sob. "I am afraid my body is treacherous."
A fanged smile spread across the ashen face of Ve'Qren.
"Oh, you do know how to cheer me up."
Whatever anger had boiled within the being of Ve'Qren dissipated, as he gently stroked Lohl's hair.
"No, I do not wish to kill you," he decided. "You are my favorite."
Lohl gasped. His heart, if it should prove possible, beat all the faster for his god's assurances.
His favorite.
Lohl dared to move closer to Ve'Qren, scraping up every piece of courage within himself, and laid his head of the knee of his god.
Within his own mind, he pleaded with Fate to please let him have this. Just this. How long had it been since another had truly touched him?
As high priest, he was barred from physical human contact. But this was a god, bound by no human law nor custom.
"Sleep," Ve'Qren murmured.
Lohl closed his eyes, quickly drifting into a world of omens and prophecies, while Ve'Qren smiled fondly upon him, stroking his hair.
Taglist: @elim-flower @devourerofcheesecake @thedarkmongoose @whumpsday @whumpshaped @boxboysandotherwhump @thecyrulik @heavenly-whumper @whumpitisthen
Event: @whumpril
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Whumpril day 1
(Red Alert/Distress call/Panic attack)
Content warning: gun threat (nobody’s shot), kidnapping
Caretaker got the call while they were cooking lunch.
They pulled their phone from their pocket, answering when they recognized the number as Whumpee. “H–”
Whumpee didn’t give them the chance to speak. “Where are you?”
“At home, why? What’s happening?” Caretaker put their spoon down, cutting the stove’s fire low. Something was wrong. Whumpee’s voice was tight with anxiety, their words forced out as if between panting breaths. It sounded like they were running.
“I need you to leave. Don’t, shit–”Caretaker's heart leapt in their throat as Whumpee swore. They could hear the screeching of wheels in the background. For a long moment, Whumpee only panted breathlessly into the phone. “Don’t take the main road! I don’t know if they know your car.”
Caretaker was already grabbing their keys. “Where are you?”
Whumpee breathed hard on the other end. “Don’t look for me! Just leave town!”
They couldn’t do that, not when Whumpee was in danger. “I don’t care what you want, tell me where the hell you are!” They were out of the door before they could finish their sentence, jumping in their car and fumbling with their keys.
“I’ll be fine! Promise you’ll leave!”
Their eyes flicked to their rearview mirror on instinct and they froze. Someone was in their car, sitting in the back seat directly behind them. Someone was in their car and they didn’t know who the hell—
They felt cold metal press against their side and saw the stranger’s face spit into a grin. Whumpee’s voice still rang out on the phone. “Promise me, please!”
The stranger gave an encouraging nod, digging the barrel of the gun into Caretaker’s side. Caretaker could only watch as that smile widened.
“I–I promise,” Caretaker stuttered out.
"Thank god. I promise, I'll explain everything later!" The line went silent, but Caretaker didn't dare move.
It was the stranger that broke the silence. "Well?" the gun never wavering in their hand. They stared Caretaker in the eyes from the rearview mirror. "We should get moving."
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Whumpril Day 1: Distress Call
tw: implied kidnapping, possessive whumper, failed escape attempt, drugging
Whumpee stood at the payphone and dialed the number. They took another wary glance behind them. They didn’t have much time before Whumper caught up with them and there was only one person they felt like they could call.
They took a deep breath. “Caretaker?”
They heard frantic noises on the other end of the line, as if Caretaker had knocked something over.
“Whumpee? Whumpee, is that it you?”
“Yeah, I don’t have a lot of time. I’m near Fourth Street. I can’t… I can’t stay in one place for long, they’ll find me.”
Caretaker’s voice was frantic on the other end of the phone. “What? Who is ‘they’? What are you talking about?”
“It’s Whumper, just… please come get me. I’m scared.”
Simply saying their name made Whumpee shiver. They glanced behind them again, they were alone… for now.
Caretaker sighed. “Okay, okay. I’m coming.”
Whumpee could only pray they got there in time. “Please hurry,” they said in a small voice.
“I will.”
There was a click and the other hung up. Whumpee leaned against the alley wall and closed their eyes. They hoped Whumper wouldn’t find them. They’d barely even managed to get away, Whumpee didn’t know what Whumper would do if they found them, but they knew it wouldn’t be good.
“You know they won’t get here in time.”
Whumpee jumped. They knew that voice too well, far too well. When they opened their eyes they saw Whumper standing beside them, leaning casually against the alley wall.
Whumpee scrambled backwards, nearly tripping over their own feet in their panic. “Just leave me alone, please,” they begged.
“Now why would I do that?”
Whumper quickly closed the distance between them, tilting Whumpee upwards and forcing them to look them in the eyes.
Whumpee flinched back violently. “Don’t touch me!”
They stroked the other’s cheek fondly, ignoring Whumpee’s obvious panic. “Oh, whumpee, when will you learn? You’re never getting away from me.”
“Get off me, get off me!”
They shoved Whumper and continued scrambling backwards, but their back hit the wall.
Whumper shook their head and continued prowling towards them, pinning them against the wall. “It seems you’ve forgotten your place, Whumpee. But don’t worry, I’ll bring you home.”
They noticed the rag in Whumper’s hand too late. They struggled when Whumper pressed the rag against their mouth and noise, but they ultimately had nowhere to go.
“Please, please no,” they whispered.
But by then the chemicals were already making their vision go blurry. Whumper said something but they couldn’t make out the words, their mind was foggy. The last thing they remembered before passing out was falling into Whumper’s arms.
#whumpril#whump event#whumpril2023#whumpril day 1#distress call#whump#whump snippet#whump writing#possessive whumper#failed escape#writing#writing snippet#writeblr#tw drugging#tw implied kidnapping#mediocre snippets#a mediocre writing blog#depressed werewolf
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Whumpril Day 1: Destress Signal/Panic Attack
Fandom: Star Wars The Bad Batch
Note: this story may not make much sense if you haven't seen episode 14 of season 2.
Summary: What would have happened if Tech checked their old comm lines earlier?
Tech checked the batch's old comm line sometimes. There was never anything on it. He looked because just maybe Crosshair would reach out to them, not caring what he said. This time when he turned the comm on and checked there was something. Almost immediately Tech played the message.
"Plan 88, you have to hide. They're after Om-"
"Plan 88?" Tech whispered. As he was about to play the message again he realized it was still playing. The sound of a door closing and then a hissing noise could be heard. That was it.
Tech listened to the message over and over. Anxiety crept in and he started to lose control of his breathing. Crosshair didn't try to get them to help him nor did he bother to give them his location. The man sounded week. Not only that catching the last part of the message meant that they wanted one of them. The O made him believe it was Omega.
The clone moved from the chair he sat in the floor and against the wall, holding the comm in front of him. Tech's breathing got worse. Air moved swiftly through his lungs as he listened again. Tears began welling in his eyes and he pulled his knees up to his chest.
He felt sick, his heart ponded, and he started to feel dizzy.
Tech threw the comm across the room. When he heard it hit the ground his mind attacked his body harder. What if he broke it? They needed to find Crosshair. Despite the man's current condition he attempted to stand. Failing he fell back to the ground.
With tears filling his googles he hastily pulled them off and stopped himself from throwing them as well. Placing them beside himself he lifted his hands up to his face. Tech knew how to deal with panic attacks, he had helped his brothers many times and had calmed himself down before. This time was different, this time he just couldn't.
Alone in that dark room Tech fought to think clearly. How could he help Crosshair if he was stuck in this room? The walls felt like they were closing in and his hands felt tingly.
Phee had been instructed to check on Tech. What she didn't expect was to hear sobbing when she got close to the room he occupied. Rushing in she kneeled in front of him. "Brown eyes?" He looked up. "I'm going to need you to breathe, okay?"
"I" he stifled, "I can't."
"I know it's hard but you have too. Breathe with me."
When nothing changed in his behavior Phee called for Hunter. "Honey please you have to breathe. We can work through this."
When Hunter got the call he dropped everything and ran to the Marauder. When he would arrive Tech was breathing a little earlier. It had been a while since he had seen his brother like this. He didn't miss it. The scene in front of him always broke his heart. "I'm here. What's going on Tech?"
"He just keeps trying to say something about some Crosshair, Omega, and a plan."
Hunter nodded then switched places with Phee. She wanted, more than anything, to be able to help Tech but right now he needed his brother. "I got you. Breathe okay. Tell me what's going on once you're able to."
The two would sit there for another few minutes before Tech could really think clearly again. Tears still fell from his eyes but his breathing was under control now and he felt less ill.
Finally Tech could explain. "We need to find Crosshair. I checked our old comm channel and found a distress signal from not too long ago." Getting up he went to check on the comm. A sigh of relief escaped his mouth as he realized it was still in one piece. After that he played the message for the other two.
The three talked then went to find the rest of the batch. Echo would arrive soon after and once handed the information to decode the puzzle was completed. Crosshair was on Mount Tantus. Now they just had to go get him.
@whumpril
#star wars#star wars whump#star wars the bad batch#whump#the bad batch#the bad batch whump#whumpril#whumpril day 1#Destress Signal#panic attack#tech bad batch#tech whump#tech needs a hug#tech the bad batch#Tech#crosshair bad batch#phee the bad batch#hunter bad batch
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Preview: Bound for Vice 1
Info | A03 | Words: 1907
Whumpril 2023 x Hotel Artemis au
Warnings: Whump typical warnings like injury, hurt/comfort, mentions of violence, blood, wounds, etc. See each individual piece for further warnings. Of course, I’m not condoning criminal behavior or any of that.
Whumpril Prompts, day 1-3: Distress call, Panic attack, Insomnia, “get some rest” ,Rope burn, knife to throat, "hold still"
Jada rose from the desk, taking slow, taunting steps toward the bound man. For all the shit he talked and the names he called her, he was surely crying like a little bitch now.
All 220 pounds and 5’11 of him, slouched over, head lowered, tears mixing with the blood on his stained face; snot dripping on this expensive suit. He stopped moving too, aside from the heavy breathing, his wrist red and raw with rope burn.
“We didn’t have to go this route, I told you.” she pointed her blade at him, the tip still dripping with his blood, “If you play nice, I play nice. But no, you had to be difficult.”
Jada climbed onto his lap, used one hand to grab his hair, and yanked his head back while placing the sharp edge of the blade against his neck.
Angry red eyes stared back at her, a hint of defiance in them, despite the weakened state of his body. They stared at each other for a few seconds before he started to move again.
Jada cut his neck, a small surface cut, “hold still!”
He stopped moving.
“Tell me where the fuck she is, and our little date ends. Or, we can make this last all night, I have time,” she glided the sharp edge over his jawline, then slipped it behind his left ear. “What’s more important, loyalty to that asshole boss of yours, or your body parts? I will start cutting them off - “ She added pressure, nicking the back of his ear.
The man broke, he started to speak but all that came out was mumbled words through the tape.
“Ready to play nice?” She tore the tape off his mouth without warning and he screamed as it stung his already sore skin, “I could give you another one of these - “She lowered the knife to his side where she cut him earlier, then slid the blade in again.
He jolted and screamed, begging her to stop.
Jada hummed and pulled the knife out before continuing, “Or, I would call my partner back in here," she shrugged, "and he’s not as nice as I am. But you know that, you’ve spent time with him.”
A dark grin drew on her lips. The man shook his head desperately, he’d had enough, fuck his boss, plus he didn’t need that sick bastard partner of hers pushing him any further over the edge.
“Use your words, come on.” Jada tapped the blade against his lips as he stammered, finding his voice again.
The door swung open and then closed, and she could feel her partner hovering behind her.
The man’s eyes jumped to Lloyd, then back to her, “ I-I’ll tell you, I’ll tell you everything!”
“Boring,” Lloyd, walked around them, stood behind the man, and grabbed his head roughly, “I was just starting to enjoy myself.”
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A03: artemiseamoon
#Lloyd Hansen#original characters#multi fandom fic#multi character fic#whumpril 2023#hotel Artemis au#artes moodboards#whumpril day 1#whumpril day 2#whumpril day 3
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Near-Fatal Distress - Vadic/Ro Laren
A/N: Fic2 for @whumpril day 1.
Ro’s distress call is short. She sounds worried, too worried to let JL hear and Vadic cuts it off quickly, steals her, lets the shuttle blow. She’s aware what the distress call cutting off will do to people, she knows that Ro will scream and cry if she tells her what happened. So she doesn’t. She hides the woman, lets her heal, wonders what else she can do. Who else can she ever tell? She’s supposed to be evil. So she leaves that behind too, sets an explosion and runs, dragging Ro with her. They will never be found, not here, not now and not ever.
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Whumpril 2023
Day 2: Stress | Insomnia | "Get Some Rest."
Title: Always a Soldier
Words: 631
Characters: Echo, Hunter, Mentioned Rex, Mentioned batch members.
(Mando'a translations at the end)
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
It wasn't often anymore that Echo really saw the Bad Batch. He never had the time; gallivanting around the galaxy with his captain saving brothers he's probably never met. Even now he found himself working into the long Pabu nights for Rex. The soldiers thoughts drifted away from the words in front of him.
The batch seemed to be doing well here. Omega was learning to fly under Tech's guidance, Wrecker liked to fish, and Hunter seemed truly relaxed for once. Pabu was good for them.
Of course, it could never be good for Echo. He accepted in his cadet days he'd forever be a soldier. Forever a man working for the greater good. He didn't blame Clone Force Ninety-Nine for stepping away from the fight. It was logical given Omega's presents. Besides, they didn't feel the same way he did about the regs the ARC trooper was devoting himself too. It wasn't like he didn't know why.
He shook his head and looked back down at the data pad on front of him with tired eyes. Right now he needed to focus on his orders. Within the next week his team was going to extract a "Commander Crazy". It was a high risk mission that required a large amount of planning on Echo's part. Ideas danced around his head and he tried to catch one. The man blinked slowly and sighed. It was getting hard to think. How long had he been up again?
"Hey Echo, what're you doing up?" Hunter asked almost too quietly as he he sat in Tech's seat.
"Just, working on something. Why are you up?" Echo deflected by asking his vod'ika before he had the chance to question further.
"I just finished something for someone here."
"In the dark?"
"I did it on the ship. It was a toy for one of the ad'ika." Hunter smiled. He belonged here.
"So, what's so important?" Echo knew what was coming. Hunter would be disappointed to find him "overworking" himself. He'd give him a mini lecture about why he needs sleep and that he can't help anyone if he doesn't take care of himself.
"We're going after a Commander that was caught defecting. We've only got eight days before he's put to death." Echo was honest, and his brother could hear the stress behind carefully placed words. He always hated it when his squad tried to be okay when they weren't.
"It's alright. How about I help you tomorrow?"
"I need to finish Hunter. His life hangs on me." There was almost a crack in his voice. It really was stressful. It comes with the territory when you're a leader. Echo knew Hunter understood it. He helped Rex work through some of the guilt leaders feel when everything goes wrong. He'd help Hunter if he'd cooperate.
"I know, but you can't think like this." Echo finally looked up and away from the datapad. Hunter felt his chest tighten as he realized just how tired his Ori'vod looked. The sargent held out his hand for the datapad. Echo looked down at it before dejectedly handing it over.
"Get some rest. Don't make me order you soldier."
"Yes Sargent." The man replied before standing. Hunter was probably right, but it didn't stop bothering him. Even while he walked to his bed it irked him. He wouldn't really be able to sleep anyways. It was better than nothing?
Once Echo was out of earshot Hunter sighed. He understood needing to help. That didn't stop him from hypocritically telling his brother to sleep.
Hunter stared at the now empty seat. Something told him if he hadn't threatened to order the ARC trooper he wouldn't have gone. He sighed again and put the datapad down: once a soldier always a soldier he supposed.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Ori'vod: Older sibling
Vod'ika: Younger sibling (If I even used it lol)
Ad'ika: In this context, "Little one"
#Get some rest#fanfic#the bad batch fanfiction#the bad batch whump#fanfiction#star wars whump#star wars: the bad batch#tbb#the bad batch echo#echo whump#whumpril day 1#whumpril#whumpril2023#whumpril 2023#star wars x whumpril#random clone oc?#i guess#whumpril day 2:#whumprilday2#whumpril day 2: Stress#star wars echo#tbb hunter#thebadbatch#the bad batch#stress#clone trooper echo
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One very angry villain calls one very tired Truman with a threat.
~
Welcome to Whumpril. I’m doing my best to do some more fun stories with some major angst theming, so let’s see how it goes.
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Day 1 of Whumpril is up!
this is no joke
Prompts: Red Alert | Distress Call | Panic Attack
Todays Characters: Steve, Wanda, Vision, Natasha, Sam
Chapter Description: Set after Avengers Age of Ultron, the new team of Avengers goes out of their first mission together!
@whumpril 🫡 Thanks for organizing this event!
#Whumpril 2023#Whumpril Day 1#Red Alert#Distress Call#Panic Attack#Marvel Fanfic#Steve Rogers#Natasha Romanoff#Sam Wilson#Vision#Wanda Maximoff#MCU Fanfic#30 day challenge#30 Days Of Whump#Flexing My Trauma Muscles#whumprilday1
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Whumpril Day 1
Panic Attack
Spoiler: This is an excerpt from an unnamed fanfic
There’s a sudden noise somewhere close – it’s the sound of rapidly beating wings, and Anakin flinches purely on instinct, looking around sharply.
Their just birds, flying very loudly in one of the large cages right behind them, but for a moment, all Anakin can remember is Watto hovering over him, wings beating furiously as he... yelled at him for Force knows what this time. Sometimes, it was just for the sake of hovering, ready to hit him for the slightest mistake. All he could ever do was brace himself for it, and –
He draws in a deep breath, as his breathing starts picking up. This is stupid, it’s nothing to panic over, and Watoo is literally not even here, and those are just birds, but he wishes they would stop flying around, because it certainly doesn’t feel or sound like his once master isn’t here.
But all he can feel is the misery around him, and he has no idea why he’s panicking about absolutely nothing, but it feels like he can’t breathe and he’s quite accustomed to that feeling.
Like that time he was running from… someone. He has no idea what they wanted, but they were chasing him, and they wouldn’t stop, and –
Something touches his shoulder, and he jolts back, heart lurching.
“Anakin?” Obi-Wan’s voice filters in through his fear.
Right.
It’s just… He’s here and he needs to breathe. There’s nothing wrong. He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him or why he feels so scared. It’s happened before, but…
Anakin blinks, and Obi-Wan is crouched in front of him now, frowning. “What is it?”
“I – ” He has no idea how to answer that. All he can do is try to even his breathing, the way he does while meditating. It works pretty well, though he still doesn’t know what’s wrong with him. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” he repeats, dubiously.
It’s a stupid answer, but he shakes his head slightly, trying to focus on breathing. It seems to… be helping somehow. So long as he can try to think about anything other than the wings incessantly beating behind him.
The blue eyes – Anakin notices with a start now that they aren’t yellow nearly as much as he thought they’d be – study him with an unreadable expression for a few long moments, before he stands again. “We should leave,” Obi-Wan advises, “But first, I… have something for you.”
#star wars#star wars fanfiction#fanfiction#whumpril#whumpril 2023#whumpril day 1#day 1#day one#whumpril day one#obi-wan kenobi#obi-wan#anakin skywalker#anakin#anakin needs a hug#anakin and obi-wan#angst#hurt/comfort#family#panic attack
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Whumpril Day 1 - Distress Call
Stormblood Patch 4.56: A Requiem for Heroes Part II
Sprinting through the ash-scarred battlefield, Aymeric glances over to the dragoon running alongside him. They had heard about Hien's party encountering trouble with the apparently-resurrected Zenos, sending a distress call through the Linkpearls, though Altan was supposed to catch up with them and provide support. Aymeric bit down the anxiety trying to brew in his throat. Raubahn didn't sound so sure the Warrior of Light was in a fit state to battle Zenos, despite the soldier's insistence to the contrary.
And thus, Aymeric and Estinien run like hell, hoping their concerns are unfounded.
Aymeric had not had much time to see Altan, much less hold a conversation, with the situation here at Ghimlyt Dark escalating so quickly, though he finds himself swearing he will find time to have a quiet moment with Altan once the dust settles. At the very least, they could both use the time to rest. In the fleeting moments where the two passed each other at the camp, Aymeric noticed Altan almost seemed... distracted? Exhausted? Thoughtful? Perhaps all three, like he knew he'd forgotten something but couldn't quite grasp what it was. Aymeric kicks himself for not taking a moment to ask him. Perhaps he could've helped in some way.
Cresting the hill, Aymeric draws his weapon as he's able to better see the battlefield below, the stifled anxiety surging to the surface once again.
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#wol!altan#chronicles of light#my writing#ffxiv screenshots#fanfic#ffxiv fanfiction#ffxiv stormblood#stormblood spoilers#whumpril2023#whumpril day 1
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Whumpril 2024 Day 1: Limp
@whumpril hi idk, this is my first time participating in a whump event, but ive been a lurker forever so i thought id give it a go
Warnings: idk, it’s not graphic, just mostly caretaking, implied violence, aftermath of violence, all under cut cus yeah
Day 1: Limp
Everly arrived home from work with her hair practically falling out. Having missed her bus, she’d walked the whole way back from the station in the city. The rain had made her usually neat red hair frizzier than normal, and by this point her mascara was almost certainly dripping down her face.
Her plan was to quickly clean herself up, check up on Selma who was still in the attic, and then go to bed as quickly as possible.
She went into the front room to close the blinds, and found Selma asleep on the sofa, rolled over in that awkward position she always slept in, quietly breathing in and out, in and out.
Did she dare move her? If she carried her upstairs, to her more comfortable bed, she might wake up, and that wasn’t what she wanted.
She made up her mind to move Selma. She slowly hooked her arm around her sleeping friend, whose face looked so quiet. Selma’s signature bun was messed up, and her hair looked even worse than Everly’s did.
Dear God. How could he have done this to her?
Selma’s body fell limply in Everly’s arms. Taking care to be quiet, she tiptoed up the stairs, and came to the attic. She laid Selma down on the comfortable bed and made sure she would be warm when she woke up.
‘Night, Selma,’ she said quietly. ‘Love you.’
#whumpril24#whumpril24 day 1#limp#whumpril#whump event#katalina’s writing*#whump#whumpblr#whump writing#caretaker#selma (oc)#everly (oc)#idk this is my first time#but i thought like#i could give it a go#might as well#kind of short lol
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Flayed
Stranger Things | Steddie | Rating: T | Words: 1789 | Ao3
CW: (handcuffs as) restraints, being restrained, mentions of physical violence, sedation
Written for @whumpril day 1: Limp | Divider art: @saradika-graphics
Steve helps Hopper restrain a violent and Flayed Eddie.
Steve barely breathed as he backed himself against the wall of the living room, watching Hopper pull in a squirming Eddie from outside. Steve’s nose wrinkled at the sharp smell of chemicals from Eddie and his heart froze.
Eddie whined and grunted in Hopper’s hold as he kicked and struggled to get back outside to the garden shed.
“Get my cuffs, my cuffs,” Hopper grunted as he struggled with Eddie through the doorway of the house. Steve blinked and jumped into action, grabbing Hopper’s cuffs from where he left them on the dining room table.
“I have to go back, I have to go back,” Eddie whined, pulling against Hopper’s hold and reaching to get free. Eddie’s head swung and Hopper launched back to avoid getting hit.
Eddie’s mouth was stained with soil and flecks of green fertilizer. His eyes were wide and empty, yet desperate as he fought against Hopper.
“I have to go back!!” Eddie wailed, his arms reaching towards the door as he tried to get away.
Steve’s heart thudded in his chest. Eddie was just fine seconds ago. They were just sitting on the couch. They were just talking. He watched in vain as Eddie arched backwards as his mouth opened wide. Eddie’s eyes rolled back to white and he trembled hard before he let out a blood-curdling screech.
The shrill, dissonant sound sent chills up Steve’s spine and he dropped the cuffs to clamp his hands over his ears. It was as if the sound came from every single pore of Eddie’s body. The sound split through his head and Steve groaned as he felt the start of a migraine.
Hopper managed to get a better hold on Eddie, but couldn’t get his rigid form to move more than a few steps at a time.
The sound broke off suddenly and Eddie twisted in Hopper’s hold as he tried to pry out of Hopper’s hold.
Steve’s heart raced in his chest, but he forced himself to move, to help, to do anything. He grabbed the cuffs from the floor and pushed himself back to standing.
Hopper grunted as he struggled to keep Eddie from getting past him. But step by slow step, he was pushing Eddie back to the bedroom.
“The bed, we’ll cuff him to the bed,” Hopper grunted, managing to fight Eddie back through the doorway of the bedroom.
Eddie’s hand found the doorframe and he grabbed it, flat out refusing to go any farther. Hopper strained and Steve tried to pry Eddie’s fingers away from the wood. Eddie’s grip was inhumanly strong, but Steve managed to peel one finger away, then another, enough for Hopper to shove Eddie the rest of the way in and onto the bed. Hopper kept his forearm pressed over Eddie’s chest to keep him down.
Eddie flailed as he screamed, this time the sound a garbled cry as he reared off the bed. Hopper pressed his forearm against Eddie’s chest, reaching for Steve with a shaking hand.
“The cuffs, hurry, the cuffs.”
Steve handed them over and watched as Hopper held Eddie down and managed to click the cuffs around his right wrist. Hopper pulled the other pair from his belt, still trying to get Eddie to stop fighting.
Steve felt frozen where he stood as Eddie flailed on the bed, his legs and limbs a blurred flurry of movement. His kicks thumped against the mattress and shook the whole frame. Eddie groaned as he fought, sweaty with exertion, but still putting up enough fight for Hopper to have to work to keep him down.
Steve rushed to the bedside to help, hating that Eddie still squirmed as he yanked at the frame with his restrained wrist.
“Get his arm,” Hopper nodded, firmly pressing Eddie to the bed to keep him in place. Eddie struggled under Hopper, his arm beating against Hopper’s sides and arms, but Steve managed to catch Eddie’s wrist and force it up towards the bed frame. It took more effort than he was ready for, and Steve was forced to pull Eddie’s arm up towards the frame. The man whine and pulled away, but Steve held strong.
Hopper moved quickly and got the cuff around Eddie’s left wrist to click the cuff in place. Now cuffed to the bed, Eddie couldn’t move his arms, but his body still arched and thumped against the bed as he tried to escape.
The room filled with Eddie’s frustrated grunts and growls of annoyance between the rattling of the cuffs against the metal bed frame. Steve backed away from Eddie feeling shaky and sick as he watched the man strain against the cuffs. The bedframe rattled behind him as Eddie yanked at it; Steve was suddenly nervous that Eddie would bend the metal with his efforts.
“Wh-what happened?” Steve demanded. “He was just fine three seconds ago and now he’s rabid and screaming like a banshee?”
Steve had to give himself credit for knowing what a banshee was, and made a mental note to thank Dustin. Still, the sight of Eddie’s body jerking around on the bed made his chest constrict. There wasn’t much in the room besides the bed and the dresser-turned-medicine cabinet. It was lined with papers and pill bottles and Steve leaned against it for support as he caught his breath.
“I have no idea,” he admitted between heavy breaths. He shook his head, just as confused.
Eddie reared back again, throwing his head against the mattress hard enough to make Steve wince.
Eddie thrashed and cried out, his fingers stretched and reaching for something, his black eyes staring blankly past the two of them. His Hellfire shirt was torn in places and stained in others, and his jeans were streaked with mud. Hopper had clamped the cuffs tightly around Eddie’s wrists and the skin was already turning an angry, irritated red.
Eddie moaned and suddenly went rigid as he trembled again, black veins suddenly starting to criss-cross over his dirt-stained hands and snake up his arms.
“We have to put him out,” Hopper grunted, already moving toward the dresser where Steve stood. He jumped away to give Hopper access to it, watching as the police chief pulled open the top drawer, and then the second.
“I have to go back, I have to go back, I have to go back,” Eddie gasped. His voice was clear and sounded like his own again, but his eyes were still blank as his head thrashed from side to side.
Steve watched Hopper dig around the second drawer before pulling out a needle and a small bottle of clear liquid.
Hopper turned the small bottle upside down and drew from it to fill the syringe.
Steve’s knees weakened at the sight of the needle and his ears rang. The world went blurry, but Hopper’s voice forced him to stay conscious.
“Hey, hey, I need you on two feet,” Hopper called, eying him. “I need you to hold him down again.”
Eddie’s arms jerked as he pulled at the cuffs, but Steve grabbed his right one and did his best to hold it still. Eddie made no eye contact with either of them, eyes still darting around for a way out.
Steve didn’t think about how it’d been mere minutes since Eddie was with them on the couch, didn't think about his knee pressed against Steve’s as they created a plan...
“Hold him still,” Hopper urged and Steve had no choice but to use both hands on Eddie’s bicep and forearm to hold his arm still. The black veins webbed under Eddie’s skin and Steve felt something sick stir in him as he watched the needle stab into Eddie, the sedative pushing into his veins.
Eddie’s desperate pleas to go back broke off as he collapsed against the bed. His body shuddered and he let out a heavy exhale before going limp. Eddie’s eyes fluttered in resistance, but they gave in and slid shut.
Eddie lay still.
Steve carefully let his grip loosen and fall away from Eddie’s arm. The immediate silence of the room made Steve’s knees wobble and he gripped the dresser for support. His ears buzzed with the echoing sounds of Eddie’s screams and whines, but as the room stood in silence for the first time in minutes, Steve felt relief flood through his jarred nerves.
With the relief came the overwhelming nausea crawling up his throat. The smell of soil and chemicals, the shrill scream, and the jab of the needle into black veins made him gag. He pressed the back of his hand and forced himself to swallow as he staggered to the door of the room. He stopped, not wanting to leave Eddie, and instead collapsed against the doorframe to suck in deep breaths. He wasn’t going to lose it, he wasn’t going to lose it.
Hopper’s strong hand gripped his shoulder in support. “Hey, you’re okay. You did great. It’s okay.”
Steve’s mind was still tumbling with thoughts. “What the hell just happened? Wasn’t he just fine earlier? Minutes ago?”
Their plan to use Eddie as a spy had slipped from genius to useless in a matter of minutes. Steve glanced to where they’d all been sitting not five minutes ago. Eddie’s glass of water stood untouched, and the notes he scribbled had fallen to the floor in his sudden flee out the door. Steve’s skin crawled as his mind struggled to make sense of it all.
He looked back at Eddie’s limp body on the bed. Eddie’s eyes slid slowly back and forth under his lids, but his body was deathly still. Another chill worked itself up Steve’s spine.
Bruises were already starting to bloom over Eddie’s wrists.
“He can’t last like this,” Hopper said, running a worried hand over his mustache. “Even flayed, his body won’t survive through this.” His eyes glanced over Eddie, checking to make sure he was truly sedated. “I’m calling Owens. Stay with him.”
Hopper disappeared from the bedroom before Steve could respond.
Steve looked over at Eddie in the bed. His sweaty curls were fanned out across the pillow, and despite the soil and fertilizer that stained his mouth and hands, he almost looked normal. Like Eddie. Still, exhaustion was etched over Eddie’s eyes and his skin was pale and waxy in the light of the bedroom.
Eddie’s body looked as worn out as Steve felt.
Steve took a careful seat at the end of Eddie’s bed, swallowing around the lump in his throat. He pressed a hand over Eddie’s ankle and squeezed it.
There was nothing he could do but wait.
And hope that Eddie, his Eddie, would survive this.
#whumpril#whumpril2024#whumpril day 1: limp#steddie#steddie whump#eddie munson whump#flayed eddie munson#hurt eddie munson#steve harrington#jim hopper#steddie fic#acasualcrossfade writes#thunderously_halo writes#whump
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I Don't Need Them
Author: Autobot2001
Genre: Fanfiction
Fandom: Transformers
Rating: E
Warning: None
Pairing: Sunstreaker X Lily Jones (OC)
Description: With a sprained ankle, Lily tries to walk to the bathroom but gets caught by Sunstreaker. Continuing from febuwhump day 14.
@whumpril day 1; limp
Lily lies on her bed, still not pleased about what happened. This means more time with Sunstreaker, but Lily still feels like she’s showing Lennox she’s incapable of being a soldier. Lily is getting bored lying on the bed and she has to pee. With Sunstreaker distracted and pain relief still in her system, Lily walks to the bathroom. Even with the pain medication, Lily still finds walking difficult.
Sunstreaker heard Lily get off the bed and watches her limp while trying to walk. He finds it unusual she doesn’t know he’s close to her.
“Lily?” Lily stops and looks at him, “you heard Ratchet. He wants you to rest for the first three days. Also, you’re supposed to be using the crutch.”
“No!”
Sunstreaker sighs. he helps Lily get to the bathroom. He sits on the couch, waiting for her. He calls Rung about the situation.
Lily holds onto the counter to get to the toilet. Once on the toilet, she looks at her braced foot. Tears roll down her face.
“Lily? You’ve been in there for ten minutes and worrying me,” Lily doesn’t answer. She didn’t think
Sunstreaker would walk into the bathroom. She laughs, seeing him covering his eyes, “you’re fine then?”
Sunstreaker sees tears on Lily’s face. He helps Lily pull up her pants and carries her to the couch.
He sits on the couch with Lily on his lap and hugs her.
“I told you this proves nothing. A recruit can get injured during training. Soldiers get injured in battle. Ratchet wants you to rest for a few days and use the crutches.”
The room is silent until Lily’s stomach breaks the silence.
“It is lunchtime. I’ll see if our friends have already eaten.”
#transformers#transformers fanfiction#transformers autobots#transformers sunstreaker#Lily Jones (OC)#whumpril#whumpril 2024#day 1#limp#sprained ankle#grade 2 sprain#refusing to use crutches
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|WHUMPRIL 2023|
|Day 1 ~ Panic Attack|
(@whumpril)
⚠TW⚠
-Mention Of Past Torture
- Swearing
- Mention of Alcoholism
- Panic Attack
----------------
*thump*
*thump*
*thump*
The sound of my own heart rang in my ears like clockwork. My breath was rapidly increasing as my lungs felt like they were shrinking. I rocked back and forth on the floor like a damn child.
So much for being a hero.
I couldn't keep it together. The alcohol didn't work. It usually worked. It helped me not feel so.. paranoid.
Fuck.. I really am a mess.
She was dead. Gone. I watched her suffer the fate she deserved. And yet.. I can still hear her damn voice. I can feel her presence on every scar littering my body. My own screams echo in my mind as those same scars came to be.
But she's gone. And yet she still fucking haunts me.
My nails dig into my skin as my breaths begin to get caught in my throat.
My ears begin to ring, the pitch increasing.. louder and louder and louder and louder and louder and louder-
"-Karyme?"
My eyes shoot open as I hear my name.. Only to find Kaiden standing there.
He wore a mask of concern as his eyes studied me closely. I shut my eyes again and buried my head in my knees.
There was silence and then a warm hand was placed on my knee. My breathing slows a tiny bit, as I raise my head to face his smokey eyes once again.
"You'll be alright, I'm here."
God.. I really needed to hear that.
He grasps my hand softly and stares at me in a way I could never understand. Lovingly
"We're gonna breathe now, just do what I do."
I let myself follow along and within a couple of breaths our breathing begins to sync together.
Even with my breath calm, the shaking of my body is still very present. I wrap my arms around myself and I realize how cold I am.
I guess Kaiden noticed too, because next thing I know he's wrapping his own coat around my thin figure.
I look at him. "You'll get.. cold."
He smiles at me. "I'll be alright, you need it more right now."
I shake my head and he sighs.
"Well if I get cold I'll just hold you close to me."
I send a glare his way. He looks surprised for a second then laughs a bit.
"Ok ok, I got the signal. How about this.. We go to bed and that way we can both be warm together. Sound like a deal?"
I stick out my tongue at him, which only amuses him further.
"I'll take that as a yes."
He stands up from the floor and extends his hand towards me and I grab it. He helps me up and leads me to the bedroom.
I take a seat on the side of the bed and Kaiden looks at me a bit.
"What.?" I say.
"Do you need water? You looked kinda wasted." He asks.
Oh, right. I was kinda drunk.
"M' fine." I say, wishing that he would drop the subject.
"How many bottles?" He asked, taking a seat next to me.
"..three." I mumble.
"You know we're gonna talk about this when you're more sober, right.?" He says.
"..yeah.." I slur slightly.
"Ok.. I think it's time for you to sleep. You're really out of it." He sighs.
"M' not.." I yawn. "Tired."
Kaiden looks at me with a defeated look. "Sleep." He says as he pushes me down onto the bed.
He flops down next to me and pulls me closer to himself.
"Clingy.."
"Yeah yeah, goodnight to you too."
#whump#whumpril#whump writing#day 1 done!!!#sorry this was posted so late i forgot it was april already#hopefully day 2 comes out earlier
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On Red Alert – Vadic/Ro Laren
A/N: Written for day 1 of the @whumpril prompts.
Vadic stares at this woman even as the ship blares it’s red alert. Ro Laren should be dead. She isn’t. Thankfully. She’s passed out though, sore and bleeding and broken in ways that even Vadic cares about. Red alert fades when she picks the woman up, carries her from the bridge and settles her instead on the bed she had made for herself for the nights she wants to stay in this form. Red alert falls silent and she strokes Ro’s hair from her eyes, watching her flinch and sighing a tired sigh.
“Stubborn fucking solids…”
She has yet to work out what she does with Ro, but for now she’s content to let the woman live and heal. She’ll find a way to make things work, somehow.
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