#guilt tw

[ieatsmallorphansnamedtom]

Headcanon of how well each of the bachelors would do if the farmer suddenly passed away of an illness (+ having left with kid/s a bonus)

(maybe even putting them in order who would handle it best to the worst)

Bachelor/ettes When the Farmer Passes Away (+ Leaving a Child)

Hi! Thank you for the request. I decided not to do them from handling it best to worst, because I couldn't really order it and it felt weird. My writing is a little rusty hehe.

TW: Death, grieving, spiritual crisis, self-blame

Bachelors:

Sam

Definitely the type to try and cover it up with smiles. Like everyone else, he breaks down the moment it happens (I'm not going to elaborate on how it happened for the sake of the viewer). Still, he tries to act all smiley and happy afterwards for the sake of the kid(s). But it never quite reaches his eyes, and everyone can tell he wouldn't recover that easily.

Elliott

Elliott throws himself into his writing like no tomorrow. He barely speaks to anyone except his kid at this point - not even Leah! He's putting all his time and energy into making sure his child can recover from this, not caring if he's ruining himself and actually getting further from it due to that in the process.

Sebastian

I don't know how to word this other than Sebastian's emo levels rise 1050%. He goes full on stereotypical, but he's not being ironic. He's straight up in desperate need of help but he refuses it, and the kid suffers as a result, which just makes him worse. Chances of his kid going to live with someone else are pretty high.

Harvey

Like Elliott, Harvey would throw himself into his work if that were to happen. He'd be completely focused on making sure nobody else has to go through that, no matter what happens to him in the process. He still talks to people, though. He wants to make it seem like he's got his life together so that hopefully it actually works out.

Shane

Oh boy. Oh, oh no. Oh Yoba not Shane. He's suffering. Absolutely gone off the deep end, very little hope (though there's always some hope). Yeah, he's going to spiral after this. The kid goes to live with Marnie or another relative because he just can't handle it. He either sells off the farm or goes to live back with Marnie because he's just destroying himself at this point. Not good.

Alex

Alex is also not doing well. At all. Though he's not at the level of Sebastian or Shane (as in he keeps the kid), that confident personality is gone. I mean, it's a front anyway, but still! He's so sad all the time and really seems to think there is no hope for him. He still puts up a front around his kid, though. But definitely cries himself to sleep.

Bachelorettes:

Penny

I don't even want to write this; Penny doesn't deserve this. She's devastated. Penny cannot handle what's going on and really just starts crying all the time. She can't even look at her kid because it reminds her of you and makes her cry even more. It's terrible to watch.

Leah

Leah's probably doing the best out of all of them. But that's not to say she isn't suffering. She paints to let out her emotions, and signs herself and her kid up for therapy. Her shitty ex Kel also comes back to haunt her, wanting to take advantage of her situation to get her back.

Abigail

Abigail gets a lot angrier. She's always in the mines swinging her sword at monsters and barely comes home. She's not even doing it for fun, just to take her anger out on something. And she's a lot snappier with people, too. She gets into fights with her friends and family and sometimes even her kid. Yeah, it really doesn't make her the best mother she could be otherwise.

Maru

Maru immediately signs herself up for therapy. She does all the things that should help - gardening to relax and remember, mediation, working on her passions - but nothing helps. It's even worse when she sees her kid slowly getting better because of them while she's not. She hides it all though under a thick layer of moderate sadness.

Emily

Emily has a spiritual crisis. She's always believed in soulmates, so why should hers be ripped away so soon. Why would Yoba do that to her? What in the world? Was she not worthy? Did she do something horribly wrong? Why would this happen to her of all people? What about her child? What will happen to them now that this has happened to her?

Haley

Haley has one of two paths she can choose. Path one; she reverts back to her Regina persona and becomes mean again. Or two; she becomes super quiet and actually pretty soft but very, very reserved because she's holding onto what she learned from the farmer - their lesson of kindness. Either way, though, she's super protective of her kid. Like a helicopter parent.

-~-~-

Remember that you can overcome anything! You are loved, and you deserve love. Keep that message in your heart.

#ieatsmallorphansnamedtom #death tw #grief tw #guilt tw #religion tw #sdv #stardew valley #sdv headcanons #sdv hcs #stadrew valley headcanons #stardew valley hcs #sdv sam #sdv elliott #sdv sebastian #sdv harvey #sdv maru #sdv penny #sdv leah #sdv abigail #sdv shane #sdv emily #sdv alex #sdv haley #stardew valley sam #stardew valley penny #stardew valley elliott #stardew valley sebastian #stardew valley harvey #stardew valley shane #stardew valley alex

[tadc-ragatha]

Congratulations on 50+ followers and may you gain many more!! 🎉

You truly do deserve it with your detailed writing style and I absolutely adore the writing you did for my request! If you don’t mind me requesting once again and if you feel motivated to, may you please write for Kinger and a character of your choice with 🌠🎠

May you have a well day/night and don’t forget to take care of yourself! :)

-⚜️Anon

Starry-Eyed Carnival Date

TW: Abstraction/"death"/going insane, memory loss, guilt/self-blame, angst

Type: Fic; romantic-related, platonic. Emoji details: 🌠 (Shooting Star) Stargazing, 🎠 (Carousel Horse) Amusement park activity. Game link [x].

A/N: "Kinger reminisces on his date with Queener." No reader. Kinger x Queener. As of posting, only pilot has come out.

Thank you!! I'm very flattered and glad to know my writing style is being received well! You're absolutely allowed to request again, don't worry about it! I love knowing people loved my work so much they came back for more. You get a special Queener appearance because I liked this idea so much (she's not in the game, so please don't request for her otherwise guys)! I took some time to make this because I wanted to make it well.

Also, petition to name the Kinger x Queener ship Chess-Rule-Shipping? Or something adjacent to that? I think it's cute, anyway.

Each week would end with a special activity. Usually, this meant a longer, more in-depth one outside of the tent. This week, Caine had chosen to send the crew on a night activity at the carnival.

The purpose of the activity was to go on a scavenger hunt and collect as many puzzle pieces as possible and complete the final puzzle before the others. There were twenty-five in total, and three different puzzles for the three different groups. As such, each group was to consist of a pair. Each pairs' puzzle pieces were at different locations in an attempt by Caine to stop others from sabotaging the experience.

Walking through a path lined by food stalls, Kinger and Gangle looked down at their clue. It was a scrap piece of paper with the words typed on with a typewriter. Held in Gangle's free hand--the other one kept busy with her broken comedy mask--was the clue. Kinger kept the six puzzle pieces they had collected in his. So far, the pieces presented sections of very colourful oblong shapes.

Kinger read over the clue again, "'circular eye of the carnival. Red.'"

"It must be the Ferris Wheel, right?" Gangle turned to look at him. Kinger nodded, walking off ahead of her through the crowd of NPCs.

Looming above them was the Ferris Wheel. Its frame was a plain white, but each carriage was painted a different colour of the rainbow. At least fifteen carriages were suspended.

"We have to wait for a red one," Gangle said. As if on cue, a red carriage stopped before them. Kinger stepped aside and put his hand out to his left.

"After you." He gestured to the door.

Stepping inside the carriage, the two looked around. Under the seats, over the seats, and between the bars; they found nothing. Until Gangle grabbed onto the seat itself and tried to pull it up. It worked, revealing the next clue of the game and puzzle piece.

Kinger congratulated, "Oh! Good work, Gangle. Now, we better get going." Turning to exit the carriage, he found the door slammed in his face. Gangle gasped as he paused for a moment. "Oh."

"What do we do now?" she asked.

"Well, I guess we just wait for the ride to be over," he replied. Sitting down, he looked out the window as the ride jolted to a start, swaying the two back and forth.

Outside, they could see the lights of the carnival below. Yellow and warm, they filled the atmosphere of the digital world with a strange yet familiar feeling. Different food stalls of different colours were busy with customers, the scents of their products wafting through the air. Up above them, the fake stars shone and twinkled.

Kinger sighed.

Gangle looked over to him, asking in a timid voice, "what's wrong?"

For a short moment Kinger didn't reply. Instead, he continued to stare out the bars of the red carriage, out into the sky. Finally, he spoke up.

"I like the colour red," he said.

"What?" Gangle responded.

"I said, I like the colour red."

"What--what about red?"

Another moment of silence. She looked between him and his view of the stars.

"My wife was red," he said. "I like my wife."

"Oh...Um..."

He continued, "she liked the carnival, too. I remember I took her here on our first anniversary."

"How--how long had you been together?"

"Oh, many years." He cocked his head back with an unseen eye-smile that quickly faded. "I don't remember much about what we did now." Leaning against the bars, he looked up to get a better view. "It was a night just like this. Lots of stars."

An awkward silence passed. Or, Gangle thought it was awkward. To her, she could not tell what Kinger was thinking. All he did was continue to stare, not a single discernible emotion in sight. Yet there was still a sadness to him. She fiddled with her ribbons.

Kinger sighed again, "Queener loved the stars. She had the stars in her eyes that night."

The Ferris wheel was nearing a third of the way through its rotation. Deep down, she wished it would end sooner. The silence was deafening. So much so, she mustered up all her courage to ask a question.

"What was Queener like?"

"Queener was great." He didn't look back at her. "She was all work, no play. But she was nice." Another pause. "I miss her."

Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes.

"May--maybe we should focus on something else." She looked down. The carriage was at its peak.

"I think that's why she left," he said. Gangle looked over at him quizzically. He didn't need to look at her to know her expression. "She couldn't remember anything. It's hard not knowing your name, but then she forgot what she looked like, and her family, and our pets..."

"You had pets?"

He smiled with his eyes again, replying, "oh, lots of them! I don't know what they were, though." The smile disappeared. She could definitely see tears in the bottom of his eyes.

"Oh."

"But...Queener was always too hard on herself. She always thought she was too strong to ask for help," he gave a sad chuckle. Twitching his eyes around, he tried to stop himself from giving in as the tears slowly dropped down onto the floor. "I think she didn't want to talk to me because she didn't want to hurt me."

"I think--"

"I didn't talk to her, either. I didn't want to stress her out. I...I thought maybe she'd be okay if she just had time. I thought--"

"Kinger--"

"I...I miss my wife, Gangle!" he sobbed. The tears were full-flowing as he cried into his hands. With her ribbon, Gangle tried to put a reassuring hand on him.

"Kinger, I...I--"

"It's my fault!" he wailed. "If I--if...If I had just said something, then she would've still been here!"

Gangle didn't say anything.

"I loved her and it's my fault she's gone!"

She shook her head, saying, "no, it's not."

"It was!"

"No, it wasn't. I don't...I think...Nobody really--nobody really gets out of here." She shook her head. Kinger looked over at her. His wailing had stopped for a moment, replaced with red eyes and sniffles.

"What?" he asked.

She said, "I don't think it was your fault. We all go eventually." The carriage halted again. Looking down, she could see it was near the end. She continued, "we don't--if she was...Someone would have left anyway." Tears were streaming down her own face.

Kinger didn't say anything. He simply looked down at the floor where the pool of his tears was. As the carriage reached closer to the ground, the light became brighter. Soon, they were both flooded with the yellow warmth of the lamps.

Kinger dried his eyes with his hands. Standing up, the Ferris Wheel came to a halt as he picked up the puzzle pieces. Meanwhile, Gangle took her broken mask and the new clue. Watching him intently, she could see him staring down at the ground, seemingly unresponsive to his environment as he walked out the carriage door.

#amy's writing #⚜️ anon #50 follower event #the amazing digital circus spoilers #tadc spoilers #death tw #mental health tw #memory loss tw #angst tw #guilt tw #self blame tw #the amazing digital circus #tadc #tadc kinger #tadc queener #kinger x queener #tadc headcanon #tadc gangle #tadc abstraction

[mariathechosen1]

Half of all ‘activist’ posts on tumblr are just:

“‼️⚠️Stop whatever it is you’re doing and fucking listen! If you don’t read this and do exactly what I say the world will be irreparably ruined. Everything and everyone you love will be gone!⚠️‼️”

*Proceeds to describe a US-only problem*

“If you ignore this post you’re a terrible person who deserves to die! You have to do exactly what I tell you and you have to do it quick or we’re all doomed and it’ll be your fault!!”

*provides a change.org survey only available to US americans*

#maria talks about things #tumblr #activism #tw death #death cw #unreality #politics #us centrism #guilt tripping #guilt tw

[i-eat-worlds]

Always Kid, Always

Or: I rewrote Pat’s death scene

This is pretty heavy, so mind the warnings and read at your own risk!

Thanks to @snaillamp for helping with medical things. They’ve got an ask Enjar game going on, go check them out!

cw: major character death, graphic depictions of mortal injuries, blood, brief mentions of other bodily fluids (vomit, urine), medical treatment, institutional indifference to human life, emotional whump, hurt no comfort, grief, guilt, Dead Dove Do Not Eat

Pat has been condemned.

The human capital council voted 3-2 to deploy her, along with the rest of Turquoise. He and Henle had gone up on the stand, two years worth of medical records with him, and told them in no uncertain terms that this will likely kill her. Her powers are tearing her body apart. It’s not just her nerves anymore, it's her blood vessels and internal organs and muscles and bones. Any use of her powers could be her last.

They agree with them. They say it’s dangerous for her. They also say that this villian, whatever the fuck his name is, is more dangerous “For everyone,” they say. It’s bullshit. They have other heroes. Heroes that won’t die. Heroes that can’t die.

The mission is stupid and dangerous and everybody knows that. It doesn’t matter. It’s for the greater good.

Joseph, though he hates it, though he knows it’s selfish, can’t help but think “fuck the greater good.”

He doesn’t hunt down any of the council members. He doesn’t slam them against the wall and yell at them until he’s red in the face because it won’t change anything.

Pat has been condemned.

***

The locker room is utterly depressing

The normal banter is gone, replaced by oppressive silence. Everyone suits up slowly, painfully, speaking only to ask “can you zip me up?” or “can you buckle this for me?” His medic patch feels more obtrusive then normal, like an annoying itch that won’t go away. The already heavy bag feels crushing.

Pat’s hair is done up like it normally is, tightly pulled back in two french braids so it will t under the helmet. As she laces up her boots, he can see the black and orange compression socks she’s wearing underneath.

She catches him looking and smiles, the corners of her green eyes crinkling.

He tries not to puke. It’s awful.

The helipad is worse. They’re up high, the city spread out around them, as they wait for their ride. Pat stands next to him, chewing on her lip. He turns to her.

“If you don’t want to go inside, we’ll find another way. I’ll take the heat. Martin’ll take the heat. Henle’ll take the heat. We will keep this off you.”

She dips her head. “It’s okay. They picked me for a reason. This dude? What he made? It’ll kill you.” Her eyes glimmer with tears. “I can’t let that happen.”

He could say the same.

“We can abort. I will fight for you on this, Pat. All of us will.”

“No.” She shakes her head. “He’s dangerous. For everyone. I signed up for this. I knew what I was getting into.” The helicopter roars overhead. “It’s for the greater good.”

It’s too loud, and they have to stop talking.

***

The villain’s base looms on the horizon. It’s boring looking, like some sort of factory or warehouse, but it's not.

Warehouses don’t have lasers.

The building is mostly empty, because even villains know that you should try to protect your employees from further harm. Per the plan, Pat charges straight into the heart of the compound, hands on fire, eyes glowing, and very tachycardic.

Even though they can’t see her, it’s obvious where she is. Just follow the violent thrum of energy and the rumbles reverberating through the floor. It shakes the whole building, rattling the windows. Pat is busting through door after door after door, but she’s getting there.

For a brief second, there’s a pause. Joseph thinks that maybe she’s made it.

Then, a violent shockwave shakes the building, nearly taking him off his feet.

That’s it. That’s the discharge that will kill her. The clock has started. She’s dying now.

He silences his com, ignoring Martin’s voice ordering them to leave the building, warning that it’s unstable, and goes deeper inside. Running as fast as he can, he traces Pat’s steps, following her path of destruction into the heart of the building.

She’s crumpled on the warehouse’s concrete floor, glass windows blown out around her, lying in a rapidly growing pool of blood. “Pat!” He yells as he approaches, looking her over.

He sees a steady stream of blood oozing out of her leg.

“Hey kid,” He says, kneeling down by her side. “Pat, c’mon.” He quickly ties a tourniquet around her mangled left leg, trying to stem the bleeding. She screams as he tightens the windlass and clips it in. He quickly searches for any more major bleeding, hands patting up and down her body while he calls for help. Helicopter. Here. Now.

He finds a jagged hole in her chest. Her sternum seems to be half gone, replaced by a deep pool of red. Fuck.

“Ex-exhale?” She whimpers, eyes wide with worry. Her face is clammy and her breathing is fast and she looks like she’s about to cry.

“Joseph. Call me Joseph, yeah?” he says, tearing open a package of gauze and jamming the contents into her chest. Her blood is warm as it coats his fingers, and it's awful.

The scream is even worse, loud and piercing and heartbreaking. “I know it hurts, just stay with me, yeah?” he says as he keeps packing, watching the gauze turn pink and then red as it’s saturated completely.

There is one thing in this world that can save her right now, and it’s a healer. If he can get her to the helicopter, then maybe she’ll make it. He digs out his IV kit and seizes her arm.

“I-I think I’m gonna..” She says, her breath catching.

“It’s okay, I gotcha,” he says. Her veins are too sunken back. There's no way he’s going to be able to get an IV in.

“I don’t wanna die," she hiccups. “Please, I don’t wanna die.”

His fingers press into her neck and find her pulse. It’s weak and thready. Her breathing is slowing down. She’s dying.

“I’ve got you,” he says, “I’m going to do everything I can to help you.” It’s a lie, because there's nothing he can do. She’s lost too much blood, and she’s bleeding out internally, and there's not a damn thing he can do about it.

“‘M sorry, Exha-Joseph.” Her voice wavers, and she starts to cry even harder. “Please, I don wanna go,” A gasp escapes her blue tinged lips.

He wraps his hand around hers, bloody blue nitrile intermingling with shaking and cold flesh. “It’s okay Pat, I know it’s scary.” He comfortingly squeezes her hand. “I’ll be here to help.”

She whimpers, and she looks up at Joseph again. Her eyes are pleading, and she looks so desperate to keep living. Another tear rolls down her cheek, and she gasps again. “ ‘m, sorry. ‘M so sorry, ‘oseph.”

“It’s okay, you’re amazing, kid.” Tears well in his eyes, and he lets them fall. They both know what’s about to happen. He takes her in his arms, maneuvering her shaking body onto his lap.

“ ‘m sorry I couldn’t be better.” Her words are barely audible, voice raspy. She heaves another breath in, body almost convulsing with the eort.

“You were great, Pat. I couldn’t have been more proud of you.” He smiles down at her as the tears fall freely.

“Thank you, ‘oseph,” she slurs, blinking very, very slowly.

“Always, kid, always,” he chokes out, watching her eyes slide close. Her pulse is still there, but only barely.

“I love you, Pat.” Her breaths are getting further and further apart.“From the moment I met you, I knew you were going to be amazing.” He squeezes her hand, one last time.

A horrid, horrid silence passes over everything. “I’ve gotcha’”

Her chest rises.

“Always, yeah? Fucking always.”

It falls.

It doesn't rise again.

She’s dead.

She’s fucking dead.

The tears come harder, and he lets them. He yells, loudly and painfully. Anger erupts in his mind.

Why her? Fucking why!

Her skin is gray, muscles too relaxed. She looks so…almost…alive. There's a warm feeling on his thigh, where her legs are resting.

She’s pissed on him.

Carefully, he sets her down, closing her lifeless eyes and bowing his head.

Everything hurts. His mind is screaming.

“Exhale to Guardian, Exhale to Guardian,” he says into his coms, half on fire, half numb.

“Guardian on, location and report,” Martin’s voice responds.

He’s quiet for a very long second. “Surge is dead.” He grits his teeth. “Repeat, Pat is dead.”

The words land like a jetliner plummeting out off the sky

Martin orders him to return. They disregard the helicopter.

Everything is very quiet.

It doesn’t feel real.

It is.

***

The ride back is even quieter than the ride there. Everyone sits together, heads held low.

Even breathing seems wrong.

Halfway there, it hits him. This is why INSUPA uniforms are black. To hide the blood of those they let die.

It’s soaked into the lower half of his uniform from kneeling and sitting in it. The piss stain is still drying too, but its not as noticeable. His gloves were so sopping wet that it got under his fingernails. The smell of iron stills burns his nostrils.

He has to look horrible.

The words play over and over again in his mind.

“Pat is dead.”

“Pat is dead.”

“Pat is dead.”

“Pat is dead.”

By the time they arrive at the centre, everyone is crying. No one tries to hide it. It doesn’t matter.

Pat is dead.

Pat is dead and it was preventable.

Pat is dead, and it is partially their fault.

But mostly, it’s his.

He bypasses the locker rooms and starts to march straight for the council's office. They’ll pay for this, he’ll make them. The patch is heavy on his shoulder.

“Joseph, no!” Henle yells at him.

He keeps walking.

They yank him back, pressing him against the wall. “I can’t let you do this.”

“They let her die, Henle, what you let me to do!” Everyone is looking at them. It doesn’t matter.

They lean in closer. “You’re smarter than this.”

“Henle..”

“You charging into that office and punching the teeth out of them will not change anything. Not for the better, anyway.” Their face is deadly serious, though their eyes are bloodshot from crying.

Joseph is silent for a moment. “She’s dead, Henle.” He breaks, fracturing into a million pieces. The tears are like a waterfall. “I sat there, and she was crying and apologizing.” He wipes his eyes. “She said she was sorry.”

Henle pulls him into a hug, and Joseph lets him, still sobbing violently. “She looked so sad. She begged to live. She thanked me.” His mouth gapes open. “This is my fault. If I hadn’t…If I hadn’t encouraged her to…fuck…if I hadn’t…” He slowly melts to the floor, hyperventilating.

They don’t let go. “Hey, shhh, breathe with me, yeah.”

Joseph tries his best, carefully watching their chest, trying to match its movements. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

“You’re okay.” They let go, and Joseph relaxes back into the wall. “How about we go get you cleaned up?”

He’s suddenly hyper aware of the dried blood itching his skin. He wants it off.

“Please, yeah.”

As he walks towards the locker rooms, he finds himself crying once again. The anger flares. It’s going to eat him forever.

She didn’t have to die.

She didn’t have to die.

She didn’t have to die.

Taglist: @pigeonwhumps @rainydaywhump @painful-pooch @rainbowsandwhumperflies

#worlds babbles #whump #major character death #injury whump #blood #medical whump #guilt tw #tw grief #medic caretaker #hurt no comfort #emotional whump #Joseph oc #Henle oc #Pat oc #yeah I’m sorry #Joseph “what’s scene safety” Schneider #have some pain #I hope it makes you cry in the toilet like I did #😭😭😭

[little-peril-stories]

Whumptober 2023, Day 3 & 4: Solitary confinement, shock

Whumptober 2023 Masterlist

Read at your own risk! They're only snippets of a larger story, with no resolution that will be posted online anytime soon; they are being posted out of order; and the characters don't have names. Enjoy!

Contents: blood (barely), guilt, arrested, fear, angst (a lot—what else is new?)

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Word count: 600 || Approx reading time: 3 mins

Solitary Confinement

Teaser: There was no running, not for him. Not anymore.

"They'll kill me if I'm lucky / They'll torture me if not"

All the scholar could hear was his own rapid, fraying breath.

The panicked rasping.

The frantic gasp of each intake of air as he tried desperately to regain his senses.

Dead. He’s dead.

They’d thrown him inside, heedless of how his sight failed him and his feet stumbled and scrabbled beneath him. Now he lay motionless, tasting blood, pretending that this was all part of his plan. He didn’t move from where he’d fallen.

He’s dead, and I killed him.

He couldn’t move. He barely wanted to. The deed was done; the choice was made.

I’ll distract him, he’d promised.

He’d known what he was sacrificing when he walked into their midst.

Now. Run. Please.

There was no running, not for him. Not anymore.

The room was quiet, but it was distinctly unlike the soothing peace of the library where he had spent so many hours of his life. This—this was an ominous quiet, heavy with dread, slippery with promise. The promise—and memory—of death.

Leave him in there, they’d said, until the prince arrives.

The thud of a body striking rough stone rang in his ears. It was only once he was already prone—still reeling from the impact—that the scholar realized it had been his own weary, grief-stricken bones and his own torn skin scraping against the floor.

Let the prince decide what to do with the bastard.

The scholar’s wrists stung, unused to anything harsher than the silk of his shirtsleeves. He wore metal bands now, heavy and pinching and dark, suppressing what little magic he possessed—the only weapon, truly, he had to wield. Snuffed out, as much a prisoner as he.

Magic he’d used to kill a man.

Dead. The word repeated in his mind. The commander was dead, and soon, the scholar would be, too.

Quiet.

So quiet.

Too quiet.

He loved such stillness, usually—relished it. Most of the time, it meant solitude. Solace. The tender whispers of turning pages, muffled footsteps, and contented sighs.

Today, it meant something else:

Death.

He hadn’t meant to.

But he had.

I chose this.

He’d chosen her.

Soon the prince would arrive to decide his fate. He would know what his old tutor had done. He would pass judgment and, in all likelihood, sentence him to death.

I didn’t mean to.

The scholar had written the end of his own story, or rather, he had tried. He could never have imagined that this was where his life would lead him—to an empty, airless holding room, mere corridors from the dungeon cells that would no doubt become his tomb. And what for?

I did it for her.

If he closed his eyes, he could feel the ghost of her hands in his.

Don’t get hurt, she’d said. A promise he’d known—even as he agreed—he could not keep. He wondered what she would say if she could see him now. If she—more full of fight than he had ever been—would rage and rail to see him prostrate and shaking. Or if, instead, she would merely weep.

Get up, she would urge. Please.

The barest sliver of him wished his cruel, craven mind—soaked with pain and fear and shock and terror—would let him be, that his conscience would simply rest. He almost—almost—wished her voice would just stop.

But if it did, he would be left with the emptiness and silence of the room, and in a sea of fear and foreboding, he would drown.

If it did, the scholar knew, he would never again hear her voice, out loud or in his head, so when death came for him, he would be nothing more than a wretched husk of a man, despised and heartbroken and alone.

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#whumptober2023 #no.3 #no.4 #solitary confinement #shock #oc #original content #fic #arrest tw #murder tw #guilt tw #blood tw #arrested #fear #angst #death mention #lps man of letters

[catnykit]

𝔽𝕝𝕠𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕡𝕤 𝕗𝕣𝕒𝕘𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥 #𝟙 𝔸 ℙ𝕆𝕆ℝ 𝔻𝔼𝕍𝕀𝕃

𓃠 𓃬𓃠 𓃬𓃠 𓃬𓃠 𓃬𓃠 𓃬𓃠 𓃬𓃠 𓃬𓃠

AHJSOWNXOQNIXNQ I CANT BELIVE I'LL FINALLY WRITE ABOUT MY OWN CHARACTERS AAAAAAA

TY ALL MUTUALS AND PEOPLE TO INSPIRE ME TO DO THAT

THIS IS JUST A BLOOD LOSS WHUMP DRAFT,BUT WHO CARES AAAAAAA

pls tell me if you want to be tagged for more stuff like this idk

Word count: 1674

𓃠 𓁹𓃠 𓁹𓃠 𓁹𓃠 𓁹𓃠 𓁹𓃠 𓁹𓃠 𓁹𓃠

Warnings

;Suicide/suicide attempt

Blood loss

Torture hints/mentions

✨️Trauma,Of course

Mourning(????? Mild mourning???

Self hatred

Major character death :)

All warnings happen almost randomly,But not immediatly,Like— I gotta first explain and then the fuss happens you know

𓁹 𓁿 𓁹 𓁿 𓁹 𓁿𓁹 𓁿 𓁹 𓁿 𓁹 𓁿 𓁹

The dizzness was starting to became hard to ignore

Damm,It was expected,You cant lock yourself in the bathroom after accidentally torturing an innocent and then go free like nothing

Well,In her defense,Carmen did not knew that liam was innocent

Now she was the monster here,Isnt she? She had good meanings,The suspect's actions were too much to get ignored by the police Even if she was there,All by herself,She could still hearing her friend's cries that night....

She didnt know what happen in the woods until she saw wesley,Her best friend,Cover in a blanket while sitting in the border of an ambulance

They were shaking,All bloody.Carmen couldnt let the things like that!! Since childhood carmen was told she was 'way too impulsive' And why would they care?! She only did what was needed

Blood didnt stop coming as the yells didnt stopped. They wanted her to go out of the bathroom. Now.

Of course,The needed was to kidnap liam and torture them just like he did with wesley....

So one good day,She grab choloform and kidnap him in the middle of the night

How fun!,Guts,Blood,Burns,And a little syringue to make sure they dont pass out

The begs where even more satisfactory considering that,It was probabily how wesley beg in liam's hands,he deserve it!

What was not fun Was the call....

After being done with liam,And without any more ideas She decided to call wesley!,Yay!

Little problem,She did not tell wesley anything about her little plan ....Carmen was sure they would accept no matter what.

Or maybe she fogot it? In all the rage?

Staying awake was hard,Breathing was hard. She deserved it thought. They were always right and this wasnt the exception.

or Atleast thats why she throught

It didnt matter now

God,Wesley was mad.

So,So mad :(

And they had the right to be it! It was the wrong person!! Carmen is the heartless monster In here.....Atleast that was Wes said.....

"B-But I did it for.... you!"

"YOU'RE A MONSTER— I CANT BELIVE SOMEONE CAN BE THIS...TORTUROUS!"

God,And they used to be friends

Dear fucking God,It was truth....

Liam was aslo bleeding out,Atleast kind of

Carmen was so careless that she sewed up the wound with the first Thing she found,It wouldnt last forever

But the diference is that wesley was there for him

Such a backstabbed!,Or was she?

Did it care anyway?

Why was wesley yelling at her to get out?

Why did they wanted her alive?

Wesley was just there,Outside the bathroom,Trying to get who was once his friend out,For their own fucking sake

Liam was still there too,Watching quietly the blood stain the floor under the bathroom's door;All while squirming slighty In pain

The sedatives of the first aid kit did barely anything,Atleast he wasnt crying

Wesley was scared too,Goddamit,They were way too scared of anything that happen

Why the fuck did they told carmen about it? Knowing how she was?

It didnt matter now,They went mad and they know it.

They aslo knew that she was way too sensitive for reasons that they told eachother on countless outings to eat, walks, just being together

The worst part it was how close they were from eachother,And how that somewhat end in this absolute Mess

Now wesley has to cope with Not one,But two persons bleeding out.

Why do they always need to be so rude?

They felt way too guilty too

Guilty about the person in the couch who didnt hurt them,But everyone thought against it because they say "He look similar"

Well,They didnt know it was gonna end like this.

They didnt know how Mad carmen was for someone hurting them

How much Rage in order to find someone to blame

It wasnt till then that they noticed The stain that they relized it. All the restroom was quiet since they kick the door open to the basment And find their best friend torturing an innocent person,Liam They didnt think carmen could do this and yet? It was there Just there And the worst part its that All was Her fault,Thats what she thought. Carmen was alredy blood-stained when she run upstairs trying to hide from wesley,Who didnt stop yelling at her how much of an horrible person she was And in part,It was right,The problem is that She alredy knew that. She alredy knew that So when wesley saw the blood under the door,open the damm bathroom door, He wasnt ready. He had to leave liam just to... Just to see it? How one of the most important persons in his life was laying om a pool of her own blood.

Well,She regret it.

How do you deal with the thought that you're a monster who deserved to be put down?

Its not like somebody would care anyway,Is not like they would care anyway

by this point,The blood lossed was enough to just

Pass out

Wesley was terryfied. Standing there,In the bathroom door....

Liam was still laying on the couch,In pain after Everything that carmen put them throught horryfing torture...

How was they supposed to fix this?

Was it any way to do it,Was it possible?

And now they were crying.Over the dying figure of someone who tried to be a good person And failed.

𓃠 𓃬𓃠

Carmen was...confusing

A year ago,They were the one in an ambulance

And they werent that...bad

wesley remembered how bad it was... They remember a strong hand dragging them to the white van They do remember the pain,They got beat up and starved But that was nothing compared to what carmen did to liam

What was most heartbreaking it was that there was no "villian" to blame

The ones who actually kidnap them were in fact,An entire gang.

They got confused following instructions and end up getting the wrong guy

Wesley

The gang promised them that,If they didnt say a word they would free them and never meet agaim

Wesley accepted

And now they're here

With two people on the ambulance

All because they didnt talk...and because carmen went insane

was it her fault tho?? Wanting revengue for her friend??

Was it wesley's fault? They were too focused on trying to keep liam alive they didnt notice when carmen— ... Carmen was only concern. It was her fault the way she decided to be ruthless about it But she didnt deserve...death. She thought she did tho That was wesley's fault.

Wesley was shocked when carmen,Practically drunk called him to say to him that she kidnap one of the suspect and gut him alive.

And other unspeakable stuff that left Liam way more broken than Wesley. All in one night.

The second worst night!— who would guess it...

Wesley tried to get an first aid kit being on the restroom, trying to atleast help liam

Even so,They did not measure their words....

Carmen felt hurt. Attacked,Even so!

by a Friend. That she thought she could trust... But could she? They instead called her inhuman and disgusting Because? Just for wanting revengue? Camen felt alredy sick when she lock the bathroom door and got left alone with her thoughts... Thoughts that didnt stop ominously chanting what wesley said. Liam was innocent you heartless monster.

Liam was innocent.

Liam was fucking innocent

All this time it was wrong

Because liam. Was. Innocent.

There was no one to blame more than the monster that looked back in the mirror The monster that did all of that to an innocent person The monster that cried while hearing who was supposed to be their friend yell at her for all that she has done Nothing but a fox that deserved to be put down

She was gonna get killed anyway,If she didnt do it,The police would.

So...she did it

Eventually wesley give up and just stay,Trying to keep liam alive

Wesley thought that carmen would just hide in the bathroom

The police would kick the door open and all would be over

Carmen felt backstabbed.

Wesley wouldnt even care,Probabily.

He did.

He did when they understood that it went more far than that....

She was dying. Atleast liam was stable She wasnt. Wheb the ambulance finally arrived to the place,Wesley finally got to open the door snd rushed to her The cuts in the wrist were too deep. Too bad. While he tried to hold on her,To just try to stop the bleeding and made her sit up,To just have a last moment!... She lean in his ear whispered with hatred,Her voice straned because of the blooe loss

:"Hypocrite."

the whisper of the devil. A self-proclaimed demon

Wesley was destroyed

Liam was healing

And carmen died. That very night,Commited suicide

All because wesley went mad. All because they didnt say a word

All because carmen was impulsive,And ruthless

All the pain for revengue,All the death for guilt

All for nothing at all.

𓃠 𓁹𓃠 𓁹𓃠 𓁹𓃠 𓁹𓃠 𓁹𓃠 𓁹𓃠 𓁹𓃠

YAYYYYYYYY I FINISH IT

TYSM ALL OF U

@theres-whump-in-that-nebula

@sillywhumpcreature

@whumpy-wyrms

(The ones who anwsered the last post :3)

:D

Pls tell me if you want a taglist,I think im gonna do more content if you guys like this <3

i gotta admiiit this wasnt what I had in mind buuut...again is just a draft sooo

Yeah

This is literally the First one

If

If this gets 10 notes or something imma start the next

#whump #emotional whump #blood draw #kidnap whump #First time writing AND posting #Be kind pls im trying #major character death #Following Floating Steps tag #My writing #writeblr #Whumpee turned caretaker #Yeah we got all the weed here lmaooo :3/j #guilt tw #cw suicide #tw blo0d #I HATE THAT IS CENSORED LIKE THAT??? #Anywayyyys #Whumper turned whumpee #Is not what u think #guilty whumper #Regretfull whumper #The story is still a wip #I know theres plot holes #nonbinary character #Lmao??? Idk if tag that ehehhe #gore ment tw #Self hatred tw #Pls tell me if i need to tag something else!!!

[mischiefxmuses]

@vcndetta asked: ♫ 21 ( sion palpatine && ashley brown )

21. Love You in A Dream - Elise Bay

Sion was looking out the window, he just felt a lot of anger on top of the guilt. Anger at himself for being pathetic and not being able to protect his siblings or Ashley. He was completely useless. He could see the rain hitting the window, his eyes dark while he watched the world around his apartment. "Nothing, nightmare..." He pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. "Why not give into it?" Give into the feelings of rage. Maybe it would make him strong?

#sion & interactions #ashleyreply #ashleyxsionthread08 #guilt tw #nightmares tw

[one-abuse-survivor]

I am experiencing symptoms

#Trauma #Trauma meme #Ptsd meme #Abuse survivor meme #Abuse meme #I am going through it right now and this is the only way I can express it right now #It's so annoying because I KNOW this is the trauma but it still gets me every single time #Like I'll lend someone my laptop and then my Internet connection will be slightly slow and they'll frown and I'll be like #Wow maybe I don't deserve to exist after all. Maybe they hate me for offering to help because they could've get it done faster otherwise #Maybe I should just not talk to anyone ever again so I don't bother others with my stupid ideas and my stupid presence #... Yeah I am really not okay today huh #Guilt tw #Negative self talk tw #Negative self talk #No id #I don't have the spoons tonight #If anyone wants to add it I'd be thankful!!

[connor-a-reilly]

It had been a while since Connor experienced his whole body freezing on the spot upon seeing a face he hadn't expected to see. It couldn't be her, could it? 'It must be Alyeria.' He thinks to himself before making his way to the roof of the building beside him. He followed her from above until he was sure it was her. The young man safely drops down from the roof, landing upon his feet in the ally across the street from her. "Aunt Fred?" He calls out to her as he waits for the walk light to signal for him to cross. Connor felt his guilt adding up within him as he approached her before stopping an awkward amount of space away. "It's really you..." @spellbcok

#I thought you were a tazer kind of woman - Aunt Fred #closed starter - Fred #guilt tw

[lcvelxss]

@wvsteria: HWEvent 16.2 Starter for: Zoey Davis || 3-Character’s can no longer hear what others are saying. Words come out muffled or incomprehensible and they don’t sound like they’re coming from the direction of the person speaking. ||

If this was another little trick that this place was tossing her way, it was definitely the cruelest one yet. Finding herself in what seemed like an amped up version of the hell she'd just left behind, only to come face-to-face with one of the very people she'd sacrificed herself for? The realization that said sacrifice was for nothing if Zoey was here, in this awful place too? That in spite of her best effort and intentions, she'd once again failed at protecting what she aimed to keep safe?

It was all already awful enough on its own, but the added confusion and disorientation of not being able to make out what she they were saying while simultaneously realizing the sound didn't match the direction she was facing... "Stooop!" She practically begged. It was all too much.

#amh:convo #with:zoey d #hwevent16 #death tw #guilt tw #distress tw

[actress4him]

Whumptober 2023 - Day 31 - Gladiator/Slave AU

I did it!! I made it through all 31 days of Whumptober!!

This one gave me a hard time to start with, just trying to think of an idea, mostly because I was nearing burnout. But once I actually got the idea (based on something Izzy and I brainstormed at one point) it flowed pretty easily!

This of course takes place a good bit after the other pieces I wrote for this au this month, after they’ve gotten to know each other. Bruno belongs to the lovely and wonderful Izzy!

Taglist: @painful-pooch , @sssunshinebreeze

The Shadow of Death Masterlist

No. 31: “I thought that I was getting better.”

Contains: lady whump, implied past noncon, fear of noncon, guilt, shame, self-deprecating thoughts, slavery

.

.

“You’re so stubborn!” Kamaria groans, throwing her head back. “When are you ever going to stop trying to get me to take the bed? It’s not going to happen!”

“I’m stubborn?” Bruno puts one hand on his chest as if aghast. “You’re the one who refuses to take the bed! I’m just trying to be a gentleman!”

“I’ve told you, you need it more than I do. You’re the one going out and fighting nearly every day. You need the rest.” She pokes playfully at his arm, something she’d never have dreamed of doing not that long ago. With Bruno, though, everything is different. She feels more relaxed, more like a person, than she has in years. 

“You’re just too stubborn to take care of yourself. The most stubborn man I’ve ever met.” With a final poke, she wanders away from the bed, back toward the corner where she usually sleeps. 

He follows her across the small room. “Well you’re certainly the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met. Wouldn’t even speak for so long I was convinced you were mute. Won’t take anything I offer you, won’t listen to anything I say -”

Kamaria whirls around to face him, chin jutted and eyebrow raised. “Maybe I just don’t like you.” They both know that isn’t anywhere near true, though actually admitting how he makes her feel is one area where she really is stubborn. 

Bruno’s eyes are sparkling with playful mischief. “Now listen here…” His hands land on her shoulders, bumping her back into the wall. 

Whatever he might say next melts into a meaningless hum. Kamaria’s body reacts automatically, muscles going limp and expression blanking as her breath sticks in her chest. 

She’s been pinned like this many times before. It’s best if she just lets it happen, and if her mind is as absent as possible. 

But then his hands fall away. Vaguely, she registers that he’s stepping back, and his voice comes into focus again when he calls her name. She blinks, and her lungs suddenly resume working. Her eyes dart back and forth, taking in Bruno, his distance from her, the crushed look on his face…and it dawns on her what, exactly, she just did.

“Kamaria, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean -”

“Don’t.” Her voice comes out in a croak. Shoving away from the wall, she brushes past him and walks the few steps to her corner. The fear and dread that had set in so instantaneously are still there, gripping her chest, and the fact that she’s feeling that about Bruno is sickening. She sinks to the floor, wrapping her arms around her knees as tightly as possible to try and hide the trembling.

“I wasn’t thinking. You know I would never -”

“I said don’t.” 

She does know. She hasn’t always known, but she does now, she trusts him, which is something she never thought she’d say about any human male, ever. And that’s the main reason, besides the instinctive fear, that she’s so shaken up right now. She hates herself. Her stupid self had to turn pliable and pathetic just because the position she ended up in reflected one used against her many times in the past. Now she’s made Bruno feel guilty, which he doesn’t deserve. It feels like she’s erased months of progress in their relationship in one brief moment.

She’d been getting so much better. Life…Bruno…everything was so much better. She hasn’t had to be afraid in so long, he’s even protected her from the guards that want to make advances. 

But now it’s like she’s right back where she started, curled up in this corner, unable to even look at him. 

“Kamaria.” He crouches down to her level, but stays back to give her plenty of space. “Talk to me? Please? I want to know what you’re feeling.”

In her periphery, she can see how devastated he looks. But she can’t talk to him. She’s too ashamed of what she is, too afraid that she’ll look at him and see an assailant - her master - instead of the kind, caring man she’s come to know. She buries her face in her knees and stays silent.

After a long moment, Bruno releases a shuddering breath. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’ll leave you alone.”

She hears his footsteps retreating. He can’t go very far in the tiny room, but only a minute later the food slot on the door opens, and she hears him talking to someone out in the hall. Locks click, and the door creaks. Kamaria almost lifts her head, almost says something to stop him. If they’re letting him out of the room, it can only really be for training or a fight, and he’s already so tired all the time. He doesn’t deserve to have to leave just because she’s such a mess.

But she hesitates, frozen in place, and the opportunity is gone. The door shuts, and the room is empty. She didn’t want to talk to him. She doesn’t want to be alone with her thoughts and her steadily growing guilt, either. 

Kamaria gives in to the burning behind her eyes and lets the tears flow.

#whumptober2023 #no.31 #lyric #i thought that i was getting better #original content #fic #implied past noncon tw #fear of noncon tw #guilt tw #shame tw #slavery tw #self deprecating thoughts tw #shadow of death #kamaria the assassin #bruno stenberg #brumaria #lady whump #lady whumpee #high fantasy #whump writing #whump series

[papermccn]

closed starter for josh ! @purelybilateral

hannah already was having the roughest of times; trying to comprehend how she was alive.. that night- she saw beth- die.. a memory burned in the back of her mind; she wandered why she wasn't the one to go.. why beth couldn't of been the one to make it- but.. it's when she remembers, she didn't make it.. she was stuck- and starving.. starving so much she found herself forced to eat what remained.. -guilt that stuck with her; but after that.. after her survival kicked in- everything went black.. she was simply a shell of who she formerly was- not hannah washington- younger sister- twin to beth- best friend.. - a fool, no.. she was taken over by a parasite- the wendigo spirit.. it ate away at her mind; using her solely as a meat suit.. now.. here she stood, at least when she was dead.. mind turned off- she didn't have to face her consequences.. realizing - beth was probably still dead- everyone probably found them- and realized hannah ate beth.. -but did she even want to see her friends? she should've, right? but it wasn't just guilt that ate away at her.. it was anger- she died.. all for a cruel prank.. beth died because of the prank.. -she had to wonder, how did josh hold up? -.. sam, how was she.. the only true friend she had from that group- that night.. but before her mind had more chance to travel; brown eyes spotted a familiar face.. josh, her heart instantly dropped to the pit of her stomach; nausea washing over.. tears couldn't help but to well up in her eyes, "josh?" the girl called out; "-is that really you?" she countered; maybe part of her afraid this was another prank.. but how- she wasn't back home, -and her brother wouldn't do this to her.. but was this a mirage- a hallucination.. was her mind this sick? but still, she was naive afterall and bit the bullet.. walking closer, "-please tell me it's you,." she cried, "-i've missed you so much, big brother." words she meant; she wanted to run into his arms.. but knew- knew that wasn't an option not until he opened his arms first.. how would he react- it's not everyday your dead sister comes back, -that's not a thing that happened.. but- her mind could hardly think mind over reason.. she was just relieved to see him.

#:) #monster tw #death tw #cannibalism tw #wow such fun tws!! #mental illness tw #starvation tw #( hannah;replies ) #( hannah & josh ) #parasite tw #possession tw #guilt tw

[ivehurtpeople]

Logan had packed his bags with his key items to move back into the school. One bag was slung over his shoulder as he walks into Charles' office with just two knocks as he opens the door. "So, how many of the kids complained bout me missin some classes? Given what happened on Valentine's day, figured it was better if I made myself scarce." The last thing he wanted was to lose control inside of the school and have a repeat of the will be famed Westchester incident. A day Logan could never erase from his mind no matter how hard he tried. @mischiefxmuses

#closed starter logan and charles #guilt tw

[monsieurpadfoot]

[ 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 ] : receiver hears sender calling their name while asleep. {For Sirius from Remus!} - @sioraiocht

Sleep was starting to become foreign to him. The only times it truly came was when he was too exhausted to keep his eyes open -- and then, he really hadn't been sleeping. It was a half-state of consciousness, so he was aware of all of their surroundings. It wasn't just the fear that kept him awake -- it was the anger he felt toward the man that they had called a friend for most of their lives. The coward that cared for his own life over the lives of his friends. The guilt ate him alive -- because it had been his idea to allow Pettigrew to be their secret keeper. It was less obvious than him. If they had kept it him -- maybe the two of them would still be alive and that damned prophecy wouldn't have come true.

When the urge to go on a man hunt was overwhelming, Sirius found himself in the room that they had set up for Harry -- a reminder as to why he shouldn't react the way he had wanted to. He never thought that he would be the one to raise any child -- he still felt like a kid and was shocked when James and Lily had started their family so soon. Then again, with everything going on -- he couldn't blame them. Silver eyes watched the rise and fall of the one-and-a-half year old's chest. The only time Sirius had ever fought Dumbledore himself was when he heard that the old wizard had given him to Lily's sister. It was shortly after his birthday that he had gotten Harry in his protection -- in his own home.

His breath caught in his throat when he heard his name being called from the next room -- his heart sinking and his grip on the wand in his hand tightening as he quickly made his way back into their room. He could feel his heart beat pounding in his chest -- worried and ready to fight whatever may have been there to cause Remus to call out to him. With his wand raised, he was ready to send out whatever spell he needed to to protect what he had left. His eyes frantically searched around, his heart beating heavily in his chest and his breathing labored as his hand trembled at the thought of losing someone else. Eyes darted around before settling on the man in the bed -- sighing a breath of relief when he finally processed that no one was around. He was safe. They were safe.

He set his wand down on the bedside table, moving to sit on the edge of the bed and smooth over Remus' hair. His fingers brushed over the scars that littered his face before leaning down and pressing his lips against his temple. "Sorry, Moons. I'm here."

#the greatest honor of all as your guardian || adopted harry { sioraiocht } #you drew stars around my scars || remus x sirius #sioraiocht #death tw #guilt tw #anxiety tw #ptsd tw #just in caasseee ~~~

[sanguine-salvation]

Gone.

Viktor was dead silent and stone still for hours after watching the video. They felt cold.

Gone.

They didn't leave their perch, or speak to anyone, or even look for anyone. They hadn't unlocked the door yet.

Again. Again. Again. Gone. Gone. She suffers, you're never there. Bleeding. Hurting. Pain.

They winced sharply at the accusation, the image of her burned into their mind. Her paled hair put up in a bow— it rolled their stomach—and her blood and the look in her eyes as they stared uselessly through the screen. Every line of misery carved into her face stared back at them, and they could do nothing.

The same as before.

She'd started to laugh and smile more than ever, and they grew used to it, silly thing they were. How dare they forget misery was but one step away. They snarled at themself as guilt snared their throat in its teeth. They had been so holed up in their room struggling with their own stupid heart and thoughts, they had locked the door and refused to answer or leave. And they had not checked on her. Maybe if they had checked, maybe if they had just—

Running.

Bruises. Blood. Cuts. Pain. Weeping. All at the hands of rotten creatures unfit for what they claimed. And this time, they couldn't even skulk back to comfort their friend through a window like a stray bird.

Selfish.

A wild ache came over their chest as panic dawned over the silence they had once been stuck in. Their hands were clean. It felt wrong. His blood should have been a beautiful streak of mercy across the wall, dripping from his useless, vile-spewing neck for what he did!

... But it wasn't. Yet.

They slowly stood up and gathered up their blades. A few, just in case. Who knew what they would find in their hunt. Nothing worthy of bearing their weight or their mark, so nothing they would let win.

Running again? Always starts. "I'm not running." Run, run. No mercy. No love. Rotten thing, selfish thing.

Viktor snarled and in one fluid sweep of rage, a knife was embedded in the headboard of the bed deep enough to splinter the edges like a raw wound, wood dust smattering across the sheets. Their heart throbbed violently against the back of their ribs as they breathed sharply through their teeth. "Stop it, I'm not, I know! Leave. me. ALONE." Bleeding, hurting.

They could hunt, and that was what they would do. Yes, something, anything, they could do. Part of them knew there was no point, part of them knew that the bastard that took her would not fall to the likes of them. But it hurt, and they would do it anyway. They would hunt and hunt and hunt until they found her and then gored whatever bits of the snake were left. And if they didn't make it back, well... all good things came to an end, didn't they?

It was all they could give.

They held the blade she had given them only a short while ago in their hand, staring down at it. It felt like it burned in their hands, but they only held it tighter as they readied to slip out the door and through the hall and into the hunt. Yes, hunting. They could do that...

But something clawed deep into their chest and gripped around their heart and lungs, and they froze midstep. Running. Running. The pang in their heart nagged them again.

Brain buzzed and blood bubbled under their skin, the sounds around them went hollow. The knife felt hot in their hand, and they couldn't tell if their hands were cold, numb, or just gripping too tight.

All of them was cold, actually.

For the first time in a long time, they didn't know what to do. Everything felt strange and they were frustrated and angry and full of too much of everything all at once.

They had somewhere to stop first.

#unhealthy thinking tw #guilt tw #writ in blood || drabbles #as they pass on the street || dash commentary

[whumpy-writings]

Starving

Of Vampires and Men Masterlist

Whumtember 2022

CW: Suicidal ideation, disordered eating, weight loss, self-harm (not eating), guilt, self-hatred, ptsd, trauma, depression, lashing out

This one is pretty heavy, please mind the warnings.

Takes place after Biology

It was easy at first. Not eating. The very thought of blood filled his mouth with bile and made his stomach twist. The hunger came later and he did his best to ignore it because he knew he would never eat again.

He couldn't. Not when he knew he was a monster, and monsters had to die.  

Aldon stood in the bathroom, hands braced against the sink as tears burned at his eyes. His empty stomach ached and his head spun. This is what I deserve, he told himself. He choked back a sob. Eyes filled with terror. An open chest. A saw stained red. The images flashed through his brain at the same time as the thoughts. 

I’m a monster. A coward. A murderer. I don’t deserve to eat. I don’t deserve to breathe. I don’t deserve to live.

What I do deserve is to starve. 

To suffer. 

To die. 

Aldon pressed a hand to his mouth as his shoulders shook with sobs. Gods, he just wanted to die. But he had to suffer first. He couldn’t help the human he had killed, so the only way he could make amends was to punish himself. Aldon looked down at his body, noting the way the skin stretched across his ribs. It had been a month since he had eaten and it was starting to show. He had to be more careful now. He couldn’t risk anyone intervening. 

He ran a hand across his stomach, pinching at the tiny bit of flesh that still clung there. It would be gone soon. Then the final stages of starvation would set in and his body would give out. A wave of calm washed over him at that thought. When he was dead, he would never hurt anybody ever again. The world would be better off, and maybe he would go to hell but at least it would be better than life. 

Aldon pulled his shirt back on and stepped out of the bathroom. There was a paper due tomorrow and he had to put a decent effort in. Just to keep up appearances. Franz was seated at the common table with pen in hand, head hunched over a book as he furiously scribbled something down. Aldon swallowed back the tears that gathered in his throat as he sat down across from his best friend. He would miss him. 

"I don't fuckin' know what I'm writing," Franz said with a dramatic sigh as he paused. "How's your paper coming?" Franz looked up at Aldon and a frown crossed his face.

"Al, are you alright?" Franz asked. "You look like you've been crying."

Aldon stiffened. "I'm fine, just stressed. Once I get this paper done I'm sure I'll feel better." He grabbed his book and flipped it open to a random page.

"I’m worried about you," Franz said softly. "You haven't been the same since, well, you know." Aldon cringed. "I know you don't want to talk about it but... you've just been so quiet lately." 

Aldon didn’t meet Franz’s eyes. "I’m alright, Franz," Aldon said. Franz responded with a look that said he didn't believe him. "Really, I’m doing fine. I just want to forget about it. Now, I really need to get this paper done."

Aldon turned back to his book, the words blurring together.

Franz sighed. "Okay, but I'm here if you ever need to talk. I'm going to go feed, do you want to come with me?"

Aldon's heart skipped a beat. "No thanks, I just fed yesterday." Even as the lie left his lips a hunger pang hit his stomach with such force it almost brought tears to his eyes.

When Franz had left, Aldon pushed back his papers so his tears wouldn't ruin them.

It supposedly took three months for a vampire to die from starvation. Ninety days, give or take. Aldon was half-way there. 

...

A couple weeks later, Aldon anxiously made his way through the barracks to the meeting room.

"What's going on?" Aldon asked as he stepped into the room. Franz and Leon had told him that it was urgent. Now the two of them were sitting on the couch, looking at him.

"Sit down, Al," Franz said.

Aldon's heart was beating too fast and his palms were sweating. They couldn't know. He had been so careful.

"So..." Franz said.

"So what?" Aldon asked, even though he had a sinking feeling that he knew where this was headed.

"We're worried about you, Aldon," Leon said finally breaking the awkward silence.

Al's heart skipped a beat.

"You look sick, Al," Franz said.

Aldon's hands were clenched so hard that his nails were digging into his palms.

"I'm fine," he said shortly.

"Aldon," Franz said with a glance towards Leon. "You're not fine. Every night you've been crying out in your sleep. You look exhausted and you've lost weight. I know things have been hard since... but you can't continue on like this. Whatever's going on, it's not healthy."

Aldon stared down at his lap as tears stung at his eyes. Everything Franz had said was true. Everything. But he and Leon didn't know that it was so much worse than it looked on the outside. They didn't know that he would be dead soon.

"Thank you for your concern," Aldon said quietly. "You're right, I have been struggling. But I think it's been getting better." It was a bold faced lie and it burned his lips to say it, but when he was so close to his suffering being over he couldn't let them try to stop him.

"Really?" Leon asked skeptically.

Aldon nodded and tried for a thin smile.

"It's been really hard, but things are finally starting to look better. I'm getting better."

"Aldon, you don't have to lie to us, it's okay we want to hel-"

"Will you just leave me alone!" Aldon shouted, springing to his feet. Tears were falling down his face now. "I know you're trying to help, but I'm dealing with it my own way and I don't want to talk about it or my feelings or whatever the fuck you think we should talk about. Just fuckin' leave me alone."

Aldon stormed out of the room as sobs started to catch in his throat. Once he was alone he collapsed against the wall and curled up so his head was resting on his knees. He sobbed.

He was tired, he was just so tired. Tired of the nightmares and the panic and the anger and disgust and hatred that took over his mind. He was tired of the pain, of the constant hunger in his stomach and the headaches and dizziness and the weakness. He was tired of living.

Aldon went back to the dorm and climbed into bed. He cried himself to sleep and didn't wake up when Franz and Leon came to check on him. He didn't want to see them anyway.

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