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whumperfultime · 3 hours

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“I knew you’d come for me.”

vs.

“I knew you’d come for them.”

#prompts #dialogue #rescue #used as bait #both of these are classics!!!!!!#so simple but so good

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whumperfultime · 7 hours

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“you’re safe now.”

“you can rest now.”

“you’ve fought so hard.”

“you don’t have to fight anymore.”

“just sleep, okay?”

“i won’t let anything hurt you.”

“it’s over. it’s all over.”

“you don’t have to worry about anything right now.”

“shh, shh, i’ve got you. you’re safe here.”

“i know it was scary.”

“i know it hurts.”

“you’re all done hurting. there’s no more pain.”

“just focus on resting, okay?”

“you need to save your strength.”

“your job right now is to heal.”

“i’m getting you out of here.”

“i’m taking you home. we’re going home.”

“you’re safe in my arms. the hard part is over.”

#prompts #dialogue #comfort #caretaker #protectiveness #rescue #all of these are excellent <33333 #favest

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whumperfultime · 13 hours

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Whumpril #26: How Could You?

He hadn’t believed it. Not even when it had been David that told him, not even when he’d been offered proof.

Instead, he’d believed completely in David’s charade, awaiting betrayal and so not seeing which angle the knife aimed at his back truly came from. He’d allowed himself to reject proof of his senses, assuming it was faked or that his mind was being somehow tampered with, because Lee would never…

Except that he would. He did.

And except that Darrow is no better. He gave up everything, everyone, just to save the person that mattered to him. Lee hadn’t really done differently, had he? Hell, they’d both been saving the same person.

If it wasn’t for the fact that his interrogator had been David, that David had done his dissembling, that he’d hurt him badly enough and suddenly enough for his confession to turn to shrieks…For all his softness, for all his refusals to kill, for all his regular insistences that he wouldn’t withstand torture, nor sacrifice another of the crew, David has turned out to be the only one with the steel to see through what Darrow has always espoused.

“How could you?” he asks Lee, and means the question for himself.

His eyes sweep him as they have done a thousand times, cataloguing cuts and bruises and dirt, calculating how badly hurt his child is, what he needs from Darrow.

Lee turns dull eyes on him. “Are you going to leave me here?” His voice wavers between bravado and demand and plea.

Darrow is powerfully reminded of his sulky adolescence. When every order was questioned. And yet how, he would still seek shelter and comfort in Darrow’s shadow when the bridge shook under fire or the lights flickered for want of fuel.

He knows how it happens. He had, after all, done the same.

“Of course not.”

He guns down a dozen guards, burns through crucial wiring that will, if it’s not repaired quickly, condemn the station and all aboard her to a slow burn. He doesn’t offer Lee a weapon, and he lets him walk unaided.

#series #scifi whump #rescue #betrayal #implied torture #so many layers of angst here 👀

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whumperfultime · 2 days

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I love that the nicest community I’ve been in so far has been the pain and suffering community

#memes #whump community #i love it here

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whumperfultime · 2 days

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Being an OC whump writer feels like reverse demon possession. You have little people in your head and you do terrible things to them. And instead of you summoning them, they go “poof!” and summon themselves and then you beat them up for it. And maybe when you make them suffer enough you give them a happy ending, but also they have to go through The Horrors first because that’s the price of living rent free in your brain.

#memes #about me

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whumperfultime · 2 days

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#listen i will enjoy any of these given the right characters #but man do i love a personal whumper #my primary whumper ocs tend to share the sadism trait

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whumperfultime · 2 days

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this or that - environmental whump (3)

#animal attacks can be fun! especially snake attacks #anything venomous really

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whumperfultime · 3 days

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Whumpril #24: No Time To Rest

It’s impossible that they have all made it back here, that they are all sitting around the scrubbed wooden table in the mess eating as they have a hundred times before. The Valjean is drifting in the empty, no stars for miles and precious little traffic this far off the main shipping lanes. The computer will warn them if anything unexpected does come within range - and long before it can see them thanks to Gene’s modifications, but the autopilot can handle it.

They can sit, eat, rest. The whole family back together against impossible odds.

Darrow pulled out of an interrogation chamber and Lee from a prison cell. Gene and David and Jemma all in detention blocks, all subject to the Domain’s various flavours of mental torture, but here and whole and hearty and knowing themselves. He and Rosie and Nico and Casey, no damage but a few bruises and glancing lazer burns, a twisted ankle and lacerated tendril. Their impossible rescue a success.

They should be able to stop.

And yet, Jay can’t. Some is the residual adrenaline, the nightmares and shakes. The memory every time he closes his eyes of that exo-steel wall that they’d come within millimetres of smearing themselves across, the blast that had missed Nico and Casey by a mere hair with him too far away to do anything, the electrical stun that had nearly ended his too-brief stint in command. More is that the men he has followed much of his life are falling apart.

Lee’s actions have trickled through the crew by now. He keeps to himself, locked in his cabin - for his own safety. Jay would have no hesitation is spacing him. Darrow is almost as reclusive. The betrayal by the man he considered a son has emptied him of spirit far more effectively than the Domain has ever managed.

David, Gene and Jemma haven’t spoken about their experiences, but they’re all pale, twitchy, jumping at shadows. David had ushered Jay and Rosie and Nico and Casey to the medbay, as he always does, taken one look at his equipment and bolted. Jay had patched them up best he can, guiding Rosie through putting surgical staples down his own clavicle where he couldn’t reach with the help of a mirror and a double dose of pain killers.

The autopilot can probably handle anything in this area of space, and Jay fervently hopes that that is the case, because no one but him is in any state to answer the alarms. He’s taken to dozing on the bridge, lulled by the gentle beep and whir of the scanners, afraid that if he falls deeply to rest in his cabin he won’t be able to respond to an emergency. When the pull of sleep becomes too seductive, too much the promise of a tide to sweep him away rather than a simple, brief moment, he gets up and walks around.

He checks and inventories their supplies, determined they can stay here for some time yet. Time enough for someone to heal.

If they do.

Jay has no idea how to help them. Put a ship and a course before him and there’s no one better, a blaster in hand and a plan of attack - well, hadn’t he proved his skills? Even injuries (his staples pull and itch, but they’ll do, and he knows that the ones he placed in Nico and Casey were far more expert. But this? The terrible loss of self and respect and everything yo u build yourself on that the Domain inflicts?

Darrow and Gene and David have always been so solid, the walls against which Jay has always sheltered. How now to shore up those battlements when their foundations turn out to be made of sand?

He sighs. Checks the plotter once more. Debates weighing anchor and risking the sleep that is weighing down both eyes and mind.

But they can’t take another battle and the Domain must be searching for them. They are unlikely to simply let half a dozen prisoners including the infamous Darrow slip through their grasp without a murmur.

How could Lee do this to them? He’s grown up with him, thought him a brother…cousin at least. And more, how can one man destroy everything Jay has built his life on with such catastrophic ease? He’d never thought of Darrow as old before, but now it is easy to see his decades, skin haggard and eyes dimmed.

Jay checks the board again, determines that nothing will need his attention in the next few minutes and goes to check the engine room. Half his life, the engine room has been Gene’s private domain, entry by invitation only, but Gene too is aged by whatever the Domain did to him. Timid, prone to anxiety and completely shutting down if Jemma is not in immediate sight. She’d cut herself cooking one night, and the engineer had cried.

Jay never thought he’d bought into the idea that men should act a certain way. Stars know, he cries. Jemma is the strongest of them all. He’s never thought about it, but he’d been horrified by the brawny man’s breakdown as he’d curled against the wall, weeping like a child.

He should have rescued them sooner. Not a mistake he’ll make again, if it drives him mad and sleep deprivation liquifies his brain, he’ll keep the Valjean in perfect working order, on his own if need be. He’ll be ready to go and get them, before they can be hurt like this again.

#series #scifi whump #rescue #recovery #implied captivity #implied torture #trauma tw #exhaustion #sleep deprivation #THIS MAKES ME SO HAPPYYYYYY THEY'RE ALL HERE #i mean they're all enduring the aftermath of unspeakable horrors but they're ALIVE

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whumperfultime · 3 days

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straight from the tortured whumpees department

#memes

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whumperfultime · 4 days

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Presumed Dead

This might be a niche interest but personally I love when a kidnapped character has been mia for months, maybe even a few years, to the point when everyone else in their life has basically run out of gas trying to find them. They've tried everything. No leads. The authorities have stopped searching, everyone has called it quits. They've all mourned and grieved and cried, but basically they've all started trying to pick up the pieces and move on with their lives.

Only for the bad guy who captured the kidnapped character to whip them out as the ace up their sleeve in a negotiation when their own back is up against the wall. And not even prefacing it with a "Would you like your friend back?" or a "What would you do if I told you X was still alive?" Just showing up to the negotiation with X in tow, bound and gagged and in what is clearly an agonizing amount of pain, but somehow they're still breathing, after all this time...

#prompts #kidnapping #captivity #presumed dead #grief #restraints #gagged #oh ho ho i am intrigued

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whumperfultime · 5 days

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100 Drabble Challenge: Lab Whump Edition

The challenge: write exactly 100 words about any of the following 60 prompts. Have fun!

Vivisection

Scalpel

Strapped down

Drugged

Injection

Scars

Naked

Disoriented

Under observation

Incision

Bandages

Blood

Experiment

Conditioning

Gloved hands

Cleaned up

Oxygen mask

Sleep deprivation

Nightmares

Privacy

Captured

Anesthesia

Prostrate

Starving

Dehydrated

Recovery

Bedrest

Desensitized

Gauze

Isolation

Uniform

Unconscious

Needle

Cut

Weak

Screaming

Infection

Manhandled

Shivering

Reflection

Dehumanized

Surgery

Torture

Pain medication

Phobia

Abused

Bedsores

Dragged

Sterile

Sedated

Research

Mistake

Begging

Pity

Touch starved

Pain

Damaged

Stitches

Volunteer

On camera

#prompts #lab whump #medical whump #YESSSSSSSS EXCELLENT #honestly i'm tempted to write more than a hundred words for some of these hsdkjfhfdhsjafk #favest

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whumperfultime · 5 days

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Whumpril #21: Just Hold On

“Just hold on.”

He looks up at her, blinded by tears, confusion; mind teetering on the very edge of insanity and catatonia. She’s the third?fourth?ninth? Jemma he’s seen. He’s seen her die again and again, shot and gutted, poisoned and choking, strangled and mutilated and murdered, sputtering in dirty water, gagging on her own blood.

Then there’s another and another and another.

All killed and dying and he useless to do anything but stand witness.

“Just hold on,” she says again and drags him, stumbling down another hallway. It’s all he can do to keep his feet, weakness and grief and looming hysteria robbing him of both strength and coordination. The only thing that feels real is her hand in his, warm and sure (but then, so had the last Jemma’s and the one before that, and the one who had kissed him and tasted of desperation and fear).

He staggers to a knee and she jerks his grip hard, then spins and delivers a kick to his thigh. “Come on, Gene. Just a little further, a little more.”

The words could be for either of them. He lurches up and follows.

If it’s Jemma…he would follow her to the end of the world. If it’s the Domain…he doesn’t suppose refusing to play along with their twisted torture will actually work.

She hesitates at a T junction. “Detention block,” she mutters. “The others are probably down there,” she half turns to the left.

For the first time in three five?ten?eighteen? Jemmas, Gene speaks to her. “No.” His voice is rough, low, a mere whisper.

“Gene?” She is instantly in front of him, all of her incisive focus on his face. The hand not crushed in his on his face. He can see the flicker of panic at the edges of her gaze, beneath the rock solid dependable strength he relies on.

“No,” he says again, a hair louder. “I can’t- can’t-”

Can’t lose you again.

Can’t take the risk of seeing you interrogated because it really will drive me mad.

Can’t risk the others looking at you and telling me it’s someone…something else.

“Are you hurt?” her eyes sharpen a little and the hand drops from his face to his chest then his ribs.

That’s not exactly what he meant. He’s not wounded. He just…can’t.

Still, he nods. Darrow had left the first Jemma to die slowly on that cold floor instead of giving up any of his precious rebellion. Leave him. Gene has this Jemma and (for this lunatic moment at least) that is enough.

She hesitates another second, the resolute loyalty he loves her for in his eyes. “Alright. We’ll get you aboard a ship and healed up and come back.” Then she’s tugging him forward again, down the right hand fork. “Just hold on.

#series #scifi whump #captivity #psychological torture #grief #character death #THIS POOR GUY #absolutely brutal way to torment a whumpee excellent job

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whumperfultime · 6 days

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Whumpril #20: Touch Starved

The others think they know. Untouchable Darrow who lets no one near him, more likely to snarl like a wounded wolf and chase them away when he needs them the most; sensitive David who has no one who reaches out with gentle, soothing touch because it doesn’t fit in with their ideals of masculinity, never noticing what that deprivation costs him; Rosie - little more than a child to crawl into a parents’ hold for comfort and cosseting, and yet blossoming enough into woman hood that to hold her in such a way makes her predominantly male crew worry that their intent will be misconstrued.

They think they know.

But for Nico and Casey, the lack of touch is a branding iron, a deliberate slow torture, a sickness that never goes away.

Humans find the tactile aspect of them repugnant. They are told that they feel soft, squashy, but in the way of partly decomposed meat or large larvae instead of in a way that could be construed as comforting. And yet, unknown to their crew, that yielding flesh holds more than triple the sensory receptors of humans. Their species communicates almost fifty percent of the time by touch alone, an array of nuances in caressing tendrils.

They hold themselves, running fronds over their back and neck and nodes. It keeps them warm even if it doesn’t offer what they need.

“We can do it.”

Jay looks doubtful. “Are you sure?”

“You are the superior pilot and should remain aboard. Ensure we are able to leave after ramming the station. Our limbs,” they wave them demonstratively, “are not suited to weaponry. We will require Rosie as cover. But we can manipulate the electronics and find Jemma and we can do it quickly.”

It’s true. Logical. Necessary.

And when they are injured, as is inevitable, David will give soft touches as he heals them.

#series #scifi whump #nonhuman whumpee #touch starved #emotional whump #HUG THEM GENTLY

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whumperfultime · 7 days

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the hospital felt like a second round of imprisonment for whumpee.

they were safe from whumper, yes, but they weren't free. IVs and tubes kept them tethered to the hospital bed. bracelets with warnings were tied around their bandaged wrists. nurses checked on them every hour, noting their vitals, adjusting settings on the frightening machines that surrounded the bed, and worst of all, giving whumpee medications that felt far too similar to the drugs whumper had given them to keep whumpee under their control.

at first, whumpee was too weak to protest. they could barely keep their eyes open. but day after day, their strength slowly returned, and with it came the nagging thought that whumpee needed to escape.

#prompts #rescue #recovery #hospital #medical treatment #medical whump #drugging #emotional whump #ooh very fun! lots of interesting directions this scenario could go in

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whumperfultime · 7 days

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Whumpril Day 19: I Need You

The three of them that are left stand in the Commodore's briefing room at uneasy attention. Their section of 8 is down to less than half: discontinued from the programme, training accidents and their most recent loss - Maugrim - to friendly fire.

“But how did it happen?” Beowulf asks, grief pushing him to demand answers instead of giving the well trained acceptance demanded. How can he protect the remaining two if he doesn’t understand what to watch out for?

They take him back to the room after that, remind him of his place and responsibilities and of their expectations for his conduct until he stops asking. They neglect to make him forget.

*

They never disagree with missions, even amongst themselves. Bitter experience has taught them they are always being observed and that speaking out against their superiors leads to inexplicable disappearances. Luna never returned after criticising one set of orders, that’s how Beowulf ended up in command of the group.

Now though, looking blankly at the instructions downloaded on his digi-screen, Beowulf feels fury that their idiocy roil through him. They’ve been sent on difficult missions before, tasks they’ve barely limped home from with broken bones and scars and concussions despite the best training the Domain can offer and millions upon millions of credits in the best urban warfare tech money can buy in any system.

This though. This is suicide.

Perhaps, Beowulf thinks treacherously, the Domain doesn’t want them to return.

If that’s the cost for him he’ll pay it and gladly, he believes in his cause, but he won’t sacrifice the only family he’s ever had so wantonly. He reads the briefing again and sighs.

“Well?” Fenrir demands, propping himself up on an elbow on his bunk and looking over at him.

Beowulf shrugs. “An error, I think. I’d best go and clarify with the commodore.”

He’s lucky they don’t kill him for his insolence, his reputation as a superlative strategist the only thing that saves him, but they send a full company of regulars instead of Beowulf’s team of three so he counts it a win.

*

“Kids?”

“Yes.” The Commodore sounds impatient.

Beowulf knows he’s pushing his luck (all their luck) just by asking, but he has to know. “Why?”

The Commodore sighs, regards him beadily and then, in the overly patient voice of a primary school teacher that puts Darrow’s teeth on edge says, “Because we want a homegrown peacekeeping force to deal with the insurgents. They’ll be less likely to pull some of their stunts against their own, and kids can be raised to have no dividing loyalties.”

Logical. A plan worthy of him. So why does it make his stomach creep?

“Is there a problem?”

“No, sir.”

*

“You have to stop this,” Romulus says, helping a shaking Beowulf to a seated position and steadying his trembling hands so he can sip some water. The pain in his head is blinding. “They’ll kill you, you know.”

Beowulf mumbles something like agreement.

Romulus sighs and rocks back on his heels by the low bunk. They both know Beowulf won’t stop, but they can’t talk about it any more without bringing down the consequences they fear. “Just-”

“I will.”

*

The transport is out of commission, every system fried. No power, no heat. They’re just lucky this planet has a fairly temperate climate and the local vegetation is palatable. They can wait for extraction.

It’s peaceful actually, like camping.

“I used to do this with my brothers,” Romulus says suddenly, randomly.

Beowulf looks over in surprise. He’d never heard Romulus mention brothers before, though now he wonders if those are the names he sobs out occasionally when his injuries are bad enough to push him to delirium.

Fenrir jerks to his feet. “We’re your brothers,” he snaps.

Beowulf reaches out and takes hold of Fenrir’s elbow, restraining and soothing all at once. The import of Romulus’ words hit him. A family outside of them, outside of the Domain and, for the first time in a decade, no surveillance.

A silence, a breath, it’s one thing to question orders another to take this step, but…”Shall we go see them?”

Romulus turns a considering gaze on him, thinks for two, three heartbeats and agrees.

Fenrir rips himself out of Beowulf’s hold. “You’re shitting me? You wouldn’t desert?”

“I-” But when it comes down to it…”I would, Fen. We’re…all of us…all of this…It isn’t a good thing, and they…they don’t care about us. They’ll use us up and let us rot.”

“And that’s our purpose! We’re weapons!”

Beowulf snarls himself now. “No. No, you’re more than that! Both of you!”

Fenrir is on his feet now and Beowulf rises to match him. They’ve tussled before, in sparring and rage, strong willed men in too-close quarters, but Beowulf can feel that this will be different. This will be no bloody nose, this will leave one of them broken and bleeding.

Romulus gets between them. “Come with us,” he urges Fenrir. “You’re my brother too. I won’t leave you.”

“And betray my oaths?”

And in that moment, they might have stayed. Romulus speaks truly. They’re family and Beowulf wouldn’t leave Fenrir to face the Domain alone. He’ll abduct any number of children and burn out the villages of an infinite number of innocents to protect Fenrir, it’s honestly that simple. He sees his truth reflected in Romulus’ eyes.

One last effort. “Come with us, Fenrir. We need you, too,” but the pleading words already hold a note of surrender, an acknowledgement that they won’t, that they will stay, the remnants of a section until the Domain has no more use to them.

“I would never-” Fenrir spits out. “I’m not- I’ll see you both in front a firing squad for this.”

Just like that, Beowulf’s heart stops. He would stay at Fenrir’s side, even to death, even to condemnation and execution as a traitor, but not Romulus. Not for the crime of having a family.

They leap forward together, and with two of them they are able to subdue Fenrir and leave him safe and alive and with the majority of their supplies, and they run.

*

Despite what it costs them, Beowulf is never able to regret not killing him when he had the chance.

#series #scifi whump #military whump #mind control #manipulation #betrayal #seeing how the domain treats its own soldiers is fascinating #i gotta write more military whump it's so good

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whumperfultime · 7 days

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Cw: vengful caretaker, whumper turned whumpee

Caretaker wrenched whumper's head up by the hair and held a photo to their face.

"Have you seen them? Are they here?" Caretaker hissed. Whumper scoffed and spat blood at their feet.

"We have countless prisoners. Most of them would be unrecognizable by now." Whumper smiled with bloody teeth. "If you want one, take your pick. They're all the same now-" -Caretaker wrenched whumper's head back until they let out a grunt of pain.

"Have you ever cared about someone so much you would die for them? That you would kill for them?"

Caretaker held the picture closer.

"That's who this is to me. So do us both a favor, start talking."

#standalones #prompts #caretaker as whumper #whumper as whumpee #protectiveness #manhandling #beating #GOOD SHIT GOOD SHIT #thank you for my daily dose of protective vengeful caretaker #favest

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whumperfultime · 9 days

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Whumpril Day 18: Broken Glass

Rosie stares at the glittering shards, then she crouches and gently scoops them together in her palms. The fragments mix with dust and blood as her skin inevitably splits, turning what is left of the glass from silver crystal to scarlet. She doesn’t even notice, just keeps gathering them together.

She doesn’t think she’s crying, doesn’t feel quite part of her body, as though this is all happening to someone else, as though she’s outside of herself.

She hears her pulse in her left ear, a steady whump, whump of sound, so her heart isn’t broken. Just the figurine.

“I’m sorry,” Darrow says gruffly.

She waits for him to continue, to remind her that she’d been told to batten down anything fragile in case of turbulence, that they’d had to get the spybug before it returned to the Domain with whatever information it had gleaned, that she’d gotten in his way and tripped him.

He doesn’t and when she looks up he’s gone.

Rosie gathers the handful of red-stained broken glass and grit and cups it in her hand and then stops. She has no where to put it, no where to keep it. And why bother? It’s nothing but knife sharp granules, the delicate angel ground beneath Darrow’s boot.

He pushes back into her room and holds something out to her. He doesn’t smile commiseratingly, doesn’t say anything. His austere features are as blank as always…but he is holding a small jar of the type they get their protein paste in. It’s empty and clean.

He pulls it back as she looks at it blankly and unscrews the top for her, and then guides her wrist to pour the remnants inside.

Rosie watches as it trickles through her fingers, unsalvageable, irreparably broken. Gone forever. A larger blade of the glass scores another red wound across her hand.

Darrow tilts her hand until the last grains fall, and then brushes his own thumb carefully over her skin, shaking loose any fragments welded to her with blood. He doesn’t flinch at the red mess she makes of his hand.

“Your mother loved that thing,” he says quietly.

Rosie can only nod. The angel has stood beside her bed since the night her mother went out and never came home. How will she sleep without it?

There’s a long silence and Darrow stays, holding her hand. Then he sighs, lets go of her and carefully screws the lid tightly over the jar. “You should get your hand seen to.”

#series #scifi whump #grief #emotional whump #blood #rosie :((((( i wanna give her a big big big hug #it's nice to see a soft side of darrow too

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