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warmblanketwhump · 11 months

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What about something with a whumpee who falls through ice?

this turned into some kind of winter epic but I hope you enjoy 😂

One minute, A's standing on the frozen lake, waving at B and C back on the shore. The next, they hear a sharp crack—and they're through the ice and underwater.

The cold feels like a thousand knives—so blinding that A can't see or feel, much less figure out which way is up or down. After a few seconds, they gain their bearings, only to feel the horrifying thud of the solid ice above their head.

Their desperate scream is muted as they hit the ice once, twice, three times, to no avail—

get me out get me out get me OUT

Their lungs burn as they fail to hold their breath any longer, and they suck in a mouthful, then another of water, colors swirling and flashing as their pleas for oxygen go unheard—

—until suddenly their fingers punch through to sharp, clean winter air. A sputters and coughs as their lungs fight to expel water, and they whirl around as they try to get their bearings, then seeing B and C waving and shouting something their ears can’t quite parse out.

A frantically claws at the ice at the edge of the hole, a pained sound escaping from their throat as the thin ice breaks every time they try to grab hold. They feel their muscles seizing up, but force themselves to keep kicking, keep fighting. They can't die. Not like this.

But as the minutes drag on, and B & C are nothing more than moving blurs of color on the shore and their limbs begin to stiffen, the fight within them starts dwindling.

Hold on, A. Come on. Hold on. Don't give in.

“A! Grab on!” A rope suddenly appears a few inches from them, and A kicks toward it with all their might. Their fingers are too numb to hold on very tightly, but they manage to wrap it around their wrist several times and give a weak tug.

“P-p-pull!” It’s a choked whimper, but B and C must hear their small voice because they feel the tug against their skin, then feel their numb, burning limbs scraping over the ragged surface of the ice as they’re dragged back to the blessedly solid shoreline.

As their trembling body meets the cold black rock of the shore, they’re consumed with the terror of what just happened. But when they take a breath to sob, they’re choked by more coughing as their body fights to rid their lungs of the frigid lake water.

B rips off their coat and wraps it around A’s quaking body, hoisting them up in their arms, gently stroking their rapidly freezing hair from their forehead. “Shhh…you’re okay. You’re okay. We’ll warm you up in no time.”

A can’t still their clattering teeth or their gasping breaths enough to respond.

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An hour later, A’s still violently shivering despite being wrapped in a blanket, their feet submerged in a steaming bucket of warm water, seated in the chair closest to the fire. They cinch the blanket tighter with cold, aching fingers, pulling it up over their ears and nose. The fire is banked high and crackling, but it does little to displace the bone-deep chill in their core or quiet their rattling teeth.

The first minutes after the rescue were hazy—first jostling and numb as B carried them and sprinted back to the cabin, then cold and dark, and murmuring voices, and frozen clothes peeled away and replaced with warm, dry ones on their ice-cold skin. Slowly, the colored blobs gave way to the forms of their frantic friends, wool blankets, muttered curses and sparks that turned to a healthy flame.

If only warmth would come.

The thought of getting warm was all-consuming for A as they shiver with chills. The bucket of hot water was somehow painfully hot and just not warm enough. The blanket around their shoulders was too thin, and they could still feel the icy water on their skin. The fire should be bigger. But none of the thoughts can make it out of their clattering jaw with any semblance of order.

However, as if B heard their thoughts, A feels them gently drape a second blanket around their shoulder, then feels their hands sweep up and down their back to generate warmth.

C watches them from the other side of the hearth, poking at the fire to stir the flames, eyeing A with concern. “How are you feeling?"

An honest answer bubbles up in their mind. I thought I would die down there.

Instead, they force out a weak “J-just c-c-cold,” before coughs steal their voice again. And though not their first thought, it is true. They weakly rub their arms with shaky hands, desperate to try and help B generate a spark of heat. “I c-can’t g-get warm.”

At that, B leaves and then returns to the fire with something wrapped in towels, handing it to A. “Here. This will take the edge off a bit more. You've had quite a chill.”

A clutches the warm bundle closer to their body, desperate for the warmth to permeate their core. “Th-th-thanks.” Another round of coughing burns in their chest, the lake water still unyielding. They feel B’s hand on their shoulder, rubbing gently, and they look up to see B’s concerned frown as their hand traces up to their damp hair.

“We shouldn’t leave your head wet. Don’t want you getting sick.”

A doesn’t have the energy to explain that they just spent a substantial amount of time in a freezing lake, which pretty much negated the benefits of keeping their head warm by now. But they don’t mind the feeling of B gently toweling the melting water droplets out of their hair, and they lean into the soft touch long after their hair is dried.

A figures they must look pitifully cold, because B continues to run their fingers through their hair, and C, who usually avoids most physical touch, hugs A close to them on their other side, helping them sip from the cup of tea since their hands are too shaky to hold it.

Three hours later, A’s still deathly pale, but they can manage an intelligible sentence, and their hands are still enough to curl around another mug of tea, and they’d managed to eat a little soup for dinner. What their friends can’t see is the ice that clings to A’s bones, the superficial heat unable to thaw the chill that had gripped their core. They're out of the danger zone, but they're still just....cold.

Between the exhausting hours of shivering and the events of the day, it's no surprise when their head starts bobbing, and their eyelids start feeling like they’re weighted. They’re not sure when the transition from waking to sleeping happens—they only feel someone gently lifting their bundled form off the couch to take back to their bedroom. B leaves and returns with two more blankets, draping each of them in turn over A and tugging them up to their chin. “You just rest now,” B whispers, gently smoothing down A’s hair before.

Despite the warm layers, A just can’t chase the cold out of their achy bones. Chills crawl across their skin, and they clutch the pouch of hot water closer, trying to envision themselves sinking into a hot spring, or sunning themselves in a field on a hot summer day.

A strange childhood memory resurfaces in a dream—of swimming in a frigid lake too long on a hot summer’s day and emerging blue-lipped and chilled through, of a relative wrapping them in a dry blanket and holding them close in the warm sun.

The memory is full of comfort and they long to re-enter it—but the memory frosts at the edges, and they slip out of the dream-relative’s arms and are plunged back into the lake. The lake freezes over and washes over their ankles, knees, waist as the cold seeps back in, unrelenting, unreleasing, coming from the inside out.

The black water rushes up to their neck now, but A's frozen in place, unable to move or even scream as the water closes over their head—

—and suddenly they're awake, coughing up a lung, unable to take a full breath. Somehow, they’re colder under the blankets than they were in the lake, like the lake had stolen their fire and left them an icy, empty shell. At the same time, they feel sweat prickle on the back of their neck, chilling in the cold air, and as A struggles to draw in a full breath, they get the sensation that something is very, very wrong.

The rest of the night consists of hours of restless tossing and turning, sweating and shaking, trying to stifle the relentless coughs. They wake in the early blue dawn feeling chilled and congested, chest heavy like an iron bar is resting across them. A draws the blankets closer and rubs their arms, trying to generate a little warmth in their achy bones. Everything hurts—even the joints in their fingers and toes, and there's a violent cough that burns in their rib cage every time it seizes their lungs.

The fireplace. That's warm.

The thought of heat propels A to jerk to an upright position. As the blankets tumble off their shoulders, the wintry air sends a sudden, violent chill throughout their whole body, rattling their teeth so hard they're scared they chipped a tooth. Bad idea. They scramble for the top quilt, fumbling as they wrap the precious layer back around themselves and dive back under the covers.

But it’s not warm enough—nothing is warm enough. They hug their knees to their chest and huddle under the blankets, too wracked with shudders to embark on the trek to the fireplace, too exhausted to move, chest burning, and so, so scared.

They don’t know how long they lay there, trembling and coughing, alone. They only feel the hand rest on their shoulder, then move up to their forehead to push away the damp hair, a whispered curse floating out into the air that they can see.

Why can I see words?

Why is my hair still damp?

B's face enters their field of vision, their cool hand on A's forehead.

Why is B cold?

Amid the thoughts, A hears pounding footsteps. They barely register that B is gone before B is back, dragging a half-awake C with them.

"B? What's wrong?" C’s voice is hazy from sleep, and A sees them rub the sleep away from their eyes.

"A's caught a bad chill from the cold water. And they're burning up."

"My....my chest...." A gasps out.

C comes closer, leaning against A’s chest to listen more intently to the rattling sound that comes every time A breathes, then lays the back of their hand against A's cheek. When their face is visible again, it's painted with ridges of concern.

"B, get the fire going."

"C, what's wro—"

"B, now." C's tone sends another chill down A's spine. "And get some water boiling, and those herbs from the pantry."

C's voice is so firm that B doesn't question it again, and scurries off to the main room.

Despite B not receiving an answer, A has to know. In their weak, cough-roughened voice, they rasp out two words: “What's.....happening?"

C gives a small smile, meant to comfort, which only confuses A's feverish brain further. "After your little swim yesterday, you’ve come down with a bout of winter fever."

Winter fever. The words alone send an ice pick through their heart. Winter fever makes its way through their village every year during the coldest months, stealing breath and warmth and life from too many to count. It can strike after a bad chill, or getting one’s feet wet, or even if you don’t warm yourself enough by the fire.

“Am…am I gonna die?”

"Shhhh....you'll be fine. I've helped many a relative through winter fever, and you're going to be no exception.”

A nods, still scared, but anchored by C’s confident voice.

Ten minutes later. A is plopped in front of a fire that's even bigger than yesterday, a pot of water giving off steam that casts a cloudy haze in the main sitting room. They’re nested in two warm blankets, hot water bottles at their feet and on their stomach to try and combat the constant fever chills.

C slowly peels away the layers of B’s blankets and pajamas over their upper body, exposing the skin of their chest to the cool air of the room. A grits their teeth to hide the chill that threatens to tear through them as they feel the goosebumps prickle over their whole body, squeezing their eyes shut at the painfully strange sensation.

Then, a pleasant warm feeling spreads across their chest, and A opens their eyes to see C laying a steaming towel soaked in some type of herb-scented mixture. It’s strong and pungent and not particularly good-smelling, but A instantly feels some of the tightness in their chest ease at the warmth and the medicinal scent.

“Old family remedy. It’ll ease the pain a bit and get you breathing better to get your lungs fighting again.” C nods toward B, who’s refilling a bubbling pot over the fire. “The steam will help, too.”

A coughs weakly, a sharp, rattling sound that makes both B and C tense. “Wish…wish I’d never gone on that lake,” they say, bottom lip trembling. On top of feeling awful, they’ve trapped B and C into caring for them. “Now you’re stuck helping me.”

“Hey, hey, none of that.” C’s at their side, carefully thumbing away the tear that’s slipping down their cheek. “You’d do the same for any of us. Who knows, I’ll probably break a leg hunting, or B will accidentally poison themselves with some root they think is edible.”

A tries to laugh, but a cough steals away their breath. “M’sorry for crying. The past couple days…”

“They’ve been rough, I know, love. I know.” C’s hand cups around A’s cheek, then drapes down to squeeze their shoulder. “But we’re with you. You don’t have to do this by yourself, okay?”

A nods readily, not trusting themselves to speak.

C nods back, glancing back at the fire. “It’s time to change the cloth—don’t want you getting chilled.”

A’s too tired to do more than just track C with their eyes as they move to the fire, get a new cloth, and swap out the cooling one with the gentlest of movements all while keeping A nested in blankets. They’re still feverish and achy and so tired, but the fear is evaporating as quickly as the steam from the pot over the fire.

I’m not alone.

#whump prompt #cold whump #falling through the ice #chills #fever whump #pneumonia #ALL OF IT #near drowning

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letthewhumpbegin · 4 months

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The Day After Tomorrow (2004)

#the day after tomorrow #sam hall #laura chapman #jake gyllenhaal #emmy rossum #whump #whump gifs #near drowning #cold #shivering #comfort #cradled #ltwbtdat

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adrift-in-thyme · 7 months

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Whumptober Day 11: "All the light's going dark and my hope's destroyed" + Animal Trap

Read on Ao3

- Legend & Hyrule

- Summary: When the sudden appearance of a portal sends Legend and Hyrule hurtling to an unknown destination, Legend attempts to save them both. But it all goes terribly wrong

CW for a character nearly drowning (it's not too descriptive, but just be careful), dehumanization, and drugging

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He’s falling.

Legend only half-registers it. His stomach is in a knot, his body weightless, yet strangely heavy. His heart is in his throat. Wind rushes past his ears. But it’s not the plummet he fears. It’s the darkness he is headed towards.

He’s falling, Rulie is falling, and he hasn’t a clue where they'll land.

Dark magic warps around him, funneling him down, down, down. He reaches toward it with his own magic, trying to guide it, to nudge it in a safe direction.

Water. They need to land in water. Otherwise this will end very badly.

He solidifies an image in his head. A lake — big and beautiful and clear, waterfalls rushing down into it. There. That’s where he wants them to land.

A hand grapples in the darkness. Fingers wrap around his own, familiar magic pouring through them to enhance his own. A slight smile lifts Legend’s lips.

Hyrule.

The image grows more clear and distinct. The smell of fresh water and dewy grass fills his nostrils. Legend steels himself and takes a deep breath. Any moment now…

Heart pounding in his throat, he tightens his hold on Hyrule’s hand.

“Don’t let go,” he orders through the waves of their entwined magic. And Hyrule’s grip strengthens in reply.

Another moment slides by, a moment filled with utter darkness and the nauseating push and pull of gravity. Legend holds his breath, awaiting impact.

It comes in a rush of magic and liquid, cold and heat, light and darkness. Legend catches a glimpse of blue sky and white clouds. Then his body breaks the surface with such force it knocks the air from his lungs.

Water floods the space it leaves and he chokes on it. Black dots dance before his eyes. Desperately, he fights to hang on — to consciousness, to the hand that now lies limp in his.

Come on. He grits his teeth, kicking his feet to try and surface. Change already!

As if in response, a sharp pain streaks through him. His two legs become a single, powerful tail; his fingernails grow into talons; iridescent scales climb up and down his body. And in the next moment he can breathe.

Legend wastes no time. Ensuring Hyrule’s hand is firmly in his own, he begins to climb toward the surface. The sun shines through it, beckoning him forth.

Hope blossoms within him as he grows closer. He’s almost there.

The net comes out of nowhere. He sees it briefly out of the corner of his eye – a dark, looming thing. But his mind doesn’t have time to process, nor his body to evade. And in the next moment, it surrounds him.

Coarse ropes tangle in his fins, wrap around his tail. Panic coursing through him, Legend thrashes. With his free hand he claws at the net, attempting to shred it. He has to break free, he has to get Hyrule to the surface.

But his efforts are fruitless. The ropes are too strong, too thick.

“I caught something!” A voice comes from up above. Any other time it would be muffled by the water that surrounds him. But now, in this form, Legend can hear it clearly, as if the man is standing right beside him. “It’s big! And it’s a fighter.”

“Hurry! It could be what we have been looking for!”

The net begins to move, dragging the heroes upward. And after a moment more of struggling, Legend lets it. It goes against every instinct he has, to allow their captors to haul them up onto the boat. But fighting back takes time, time Hyrule doesn’t have.

He pulls the traveler to his chest, wrapping his arms protectively around him. And in the next seconds they break through the surface and are pulled onto the floor of a small boat.

Legend can make out blurred faces, leering and unfamiliar; a blue sky painted behind a layer of trees; water drifting as far as he can see. But he doesn’t allow himself to survey his surroundings beyond that. Almost immediately, his attention is back on the hero who lies limp in his arms.

“Rulie,” he gasps, through burning lungs. This form never fares well on the surface. But it will only be a short while before he reverts to his Hylian body. He can hold on until then.

Dragging in another wheezing attempt at a breath, he presses a hand to the traveler’s face. His skin is cool and pale, eyes still closed, chest still. Dread settles unpleasantly in Legend’s gut.

Maybe landing them in the water was not such a wonderful idea, after all. Maybe he should have let whatever was going to happen, happen. Maybe he should have focused his attention on crafting a shield around them instead.

He shakes his head, shoving the thoughts away. Gritting his teeth, he closes his eyes.

He doesn’t know how to weave the powerful healing spells that Hyrule does, but he is familiar with a few simpler ones. Spells that can take care of cuts and bruises, gashes that don’t travel too deep, even wounds that render you unconscious. And perhaps, they will be enough to drag the water from Hyrule’s lungs.

“Well, well, what have we here?” A voice croons from above him.

Distantly, he registers the net lifting off and away, dragging at his tail as it does so. He does his best to ignore it.

“A sea creature?”

“It’s called a mermaid.”

“Well, I’ve seen one of those before.”

“Isn’t this what you were looking for?”

“Indeed.”

Someone is leaning over him now. Legend can feel their hot breaths on his neck.

“Look at him. What a magical being.”

A hand brushes over the length of his tail and Legend inhales sharply. The breath soon turns into a hacking cough as his body reminds him how little air he is gaining at the moment.

Ignore it, he tells himself, even as every part of him screams to leap back into the water, where he can breathe, where the clammy hands of strangers won’t touch him. Focus on Rulie.

“I wish to study him. Take him…and throw his friend back into the water.”

The words have barely registered in Legend’s mind before rough hands wrap around his waist and pull. His fingers slip from Hyrule and the spell dies upon them.

“No!”

He thrashes, striking out with his claws, kicking as his tail splits and becomes legs. Someone cries out and another voice joins them. But they are a mere cacophony of unintelligible noise to Legend’s ears. All he can see is Hyrule being dragged toward the edge, all he can hear is the deafening silence left by the absence of his brother’s breaths.

This is all your fault.

A fist connects with his jaw and he reels back, tasting the sharpness of iron. But seconds later he is struggling again, desperation allowing him to push through the pain, the fear, the way the world feels like it's closing in on him all over again, like the day his uncle died, the day the entire kingdom had turned its back on him without reason…

An arm comes into reach and he bites down, hard. That earns him a slap across the face.

“Stop fighting, damn it!”

He kicks outward, feet connecting with someone’s body. They hurl him down onto the unforgiving wood of the boat, so hard that he sees stars. For a moment it is all he can do to breathe.

“Little brat!”

“Is he even worth the trouble? Look at him! He changed back!”

“Calm yourselves. You are damaging the specimen.”

Legend drags his head upward just as a man squats down in front of him. With his graying hair and wizened face carved with smile lines, one could think him kind, even grandfatherly. But when he grips Legend’s chin and holds his gaze, there is no sympathy in those eyes. There is only cold, terrible, hunger.

Legend shoves himself up on his hands and knees, wrenching himself out of the man’s grip. He steels himself, hand already going toward the hilt of his sword. He will fight to the death if need be. They will not touch Hyrule.

But the man’s voice halts his movements.

“Remain still or your friend will go over the side.”

Legend glares at him. He can see no lie in that face. His hand falls back down to lie limply at his side.

“What do you want?” he grits out.

The man regards him calmly. “I have been interested in strange creatures for many years now. I have studied them quite extensively. One might even call me an expert. However, I have yet to examine a mer. So, you, my boy, are quite a fortunate find.”

He rises, still looking at Legend as though he wants to pin him to a board and stare at him for a while. Legend fights not to squirm beneath his gaze.

“You are fascinating. Not quite a mer and yet…not quite Hylian either. Oh, the discoveries that could be made from you.”

The man moves closer. Before he can stop himself, Legend backs up a step, bumping against the two men he hadn’t realized were standing behind him. He can’t breathe now. It’s as though he is dragging in surface air through his gills again, fighting to remain conscious.

Focus. You don’t have time to panic.

“I would take you by force,” the man continues, calmly, as though carrying a conversation with a neighbor, “as my men have so clumsily attempted to do. But that would damage you beyond repair. And in order for my experiments to work, you must be in optimal condition. I must control for most variables. I’m sure you understand.”

“Yeah, I understand alright. You creep.”

Legend’s eyes flit around, taking in his surroundings, looking for a viable way out. His fingers flex and clench, itching for a weapon. But Hyrule is so close to the edge now. Too close. One wrong move and he will fall back into a watery grave.

And the water…the water is the only chance of escape he has. But the cost would be great, too great for him to entertain.

He inhales a trembling breath and makes his decision.

“If you want me so badly, I’ll come with you. On one condition.” He looks back at Hyrule, ignoring the way his heart clenches at the sight of him.

You idiot. Letting yourself become attached again. Don’t you ever learn?

“Let me save him. Then, take him back to shore and leave him there.”

The man doesn’t answer at first. He looks between the two heroes, fist at his chin. Then, he nods.

“Very well.” He turns to his men. “Take us back to shore as quickly as possible. And bind and blindfold the boy.”

Legend watches, anger boiling within him, as they tie thick ropes around Hyrule’s wrists and a cloth around his head. No sooner have they stepped back than he rushes forward, skidding on his knees before him. The spell is already at his fingertips and in his mind, woven threads of his magic. And he reaches out, pressing a hand to Rulie’s arm as it pours forth.

“Watch him,” he hears someone say from far away. “He might try to pull something.”

“He won’t,” the man with hungry eyes answers. “He cares too much for his friend.”

Legend shakes his head, brushing off the oppressive truth of the statement.

“Come on, Rule,” he murmurs, “come on. Wake up.”

A moment passes and another and another, slipping by in slow succession. All the while the boat speeds toward the shore. If he looked up, Legend doesn’t doubt that he would see the bank fast approaching. But he doesn’t dare. He hardly allows himself to breathe.

Tears stream down his face and blur his vision. He doesn’t brush them away.

“Come on, traveler. You’re tougher than this. Don’t you dare die on me!”

Another series of seconds pass in which Hyrule doesn’t move. And then, abruptly, he draws in a gasping breath. He pitches sideways coughing up mouthfuls of water. Relief streaks dizzyingly through Legend as he reaches out, gripping his shoulder to support him.

“You’re okay, Rulie,” he says, both to himself and the hero trembling in his grasp. “You’re okay.”

Thank the goddesses.

The coughs subside and turn to haggard breaths. Hyrule raises his head, dazedly attempting to look around.

“Ledge?” He croaks. He tries to move his hands up to his face, but the ropes prevent the motion. “Legend…what happened? Why can’t I…where are we?”

Legend is about to answer when the boat comes to a stop, bumping against a grassy shoreline. His heart climbs into his throat.

“It’s okay,” he manages. “You’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

Hyrule turns toward the sound of his voice and Legend is glad that he cannot see the look in his eyes.

“But what about you?”

Strong hands grasp his arms and wrench him away from the traveler. He stumbles to his feet.

Men close in around Hyrule too, hauling him up and starting toward the shore. He struggles, though weakly, face still much too pale.

“Legend!”

Legend manages a shaky smile, more for his own sake than his brother’s.

“I’ll be fine too. Don’t waste your time worrying about me. Get free and get out of here, you hear! Don’t you dare try and come back for me!”

Hyrule gives another shout as he hits the damp ground, immediately trying to stumble up on bound feet. But Legend can hardly hear him now past the thundering of his heart and the distant sounds of water lapping at the boat as it drifts back into the depths.

Then, something cool and metallic pierces his neck and he knows no more.

#whumptober 2023 #no.11 #“all the light's going dark and my hope's destroyed”#animal trap #near drowning #dehumanization tw #drugging tw #trin writes #lu legend #lu hyrule #angst #whump #first time writing mer-legend!#it was fun #despite the less-than-fun circumstances lol #not to worry #this will be continued #there are plenty more horrors for legend to face XD #sorry ledge

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whump-or-whatever · 11 months

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Here’s a thought:

Have your whumper force your whumpee to tread water for an incredibly long time. As in, until they are so tired they start to slip beneath the water. And don’t have whumper allow them to come out until they’ve damn near passed out or have fully gone under. Then, have whumper drag whumpee out and drop them, coughing up water, on the shore/floor. Even better, have them do it over and over again until whumpee wishes whumper would just leave them in the water to drown.

#whump #whump prompt #whump idea #whump scenario #whump community #whump tropes #whump prompts #whumpee #whumper #near drowning #drowning whump #exhaustion whump #whumpblr #water whump #implied suicidal ideation #drowning

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colibrie · 5 months

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So, I attempted Whumptober 2023. Life didn't let me get very far, but I figured I'd share what I did make. Hope you enjoy!

Day One: "How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Man in the water!"

Legend didn't bother to raise his head from the cradle of his arms. Mostly because he couldn't find the strength to do so. How long had he drifted? How long had he dreamed?

"Get the skiff and the ropes!"

"Swing to port. Steady now..."

"Keep them back, they'll just get in the way!"

Words sifted through his mind like grains of golden sand from Torombo Beach, scratchy yet soft and gone before he could truly consider them. Like the laughter from camp fires, tinged with the tang of wood smoke and sweet baked apples. Like soft blue dresses beneath red hair, and the companionable press of shoulders against his own in the heat of battle.

Such lovely dreams...

Fingers clamped down ruthlessly, pulling his limp body away from the splintered bit of platform that had held him. More wood, this time smoothed and curved, settled under his back. The stiff neck of a skin pressed to his split and peeling lips, metering out small trickles of sweet, clear water to the parched tissues of his mouth and tounge.

"Shit, he's rough."

"No suprise, considering how far the currant swept him. We'd never have found him without the fish men."

"Quit gabbing and grab the oars. Sooner we get him back to the ship, the better for him."

More water, more hands. Hands that manhandled, that rolled and lifted and pressed. Hands that rubbed annoyingly at his throat to force him to swallow something thick and sweet, and tapped irritatingly at his cheeks.

"Open your eyes! Come on legend, I know you can do it. Wake up."

He didn't want to wake up. Dreams had always been so much kinder to him than reality. In dreams he had friendship with others like him. In dreams he had love. But the hands were relentless, and soon he found himself squinting through salt locked lashes at swirling blobs of blonde, green and blue.

"Hey! That's it legend, that's it. Stay with me. Hyrule is going to be right back."

One hand shifted to support the back of his neck, forcing him to be still as a soaked rag scrubed away the salt that burned his eyes.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" A new voice demanded, a new blob thrust into his narrow view swimming as tears joined that the sea water staining his cheeks.

"I don't think he's fully with us. Where the hell did Hyrule go?"

"How far did Wind say it was to Windfall?"

"Stay awake Legend."

How did one stay awake, when he was still in his dreams?

#linked universe #angst fairy writes #linked universe legend #near drowning #legend hates the ocean

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ayyy-imma-ninja · 9 months

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What if a kid screamed bloody murder when being put in the bath, and the parent's explanation is "the last time we were at the pool, they took off their floaties and almost drowned, so now they refuse to be in water more than a few inches deep, they're fine with showers though"

Then they will help the kid with the shower if that's what they are comfortable with. They won't force the child to endure trauma for the sake of being clean.

#answered ask #dca!serial killer au #sk boys #near drowning #tw drowning

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whumpygifs · 1 year

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#till the end of the moon #episode 9 #tantai jin #whump #near drowning #poisoned #blinded #weak #exhausted #helped to stand #helped to walk #bleeding #my gifs

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random-fandom-whump · 2 years

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Once Upon a Time S04E16 ↳ RFW's Favorite OUAT Whump Moments

#ouat #whumpedit #killian jones #captain hook #knocked out #drowning #near drowning #left for dead #rescue #slapped #wet #ouat 4x16 #ep: poor unfortunate soul #once upon a time #ariel #favorite ouat moments

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aceofwhump · 9 months

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The Little Mermaid 2023

#whumpedit #whump #thelittlemermaidedit #the little mermaid 2023 #the little mermaid live action #the little mermaid #prince eric #jonah hauer king #disneyedit #my gifs #mod post #aesthetic #cuts #face touching #waking up #unconscious #disorientation #near drowning #wet

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crash-bump-bring-the-whump · 1 year

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BTHB 2023 - Fill 17 - Water Torture

Sometimes I just want to explore traumas that I figure out a character has, and sometimes I also want to explore the idea of "god, you know, yeah, I think that would make Mariano Act Like That as an adult"

TWs: Torture, water torture, near-drowning, whump of a minor, institutional abuse, child abuse

Shuddering, gasping coughing filled the room. Unforgiving fingers tangled in the trainee mage's dark hair, the only thing keeping the trembling boy from collapsing back into the pool. Diego waited.

The dark eyes of the instructor and his trainee met. The instructor nodded. Diego dropped the mage back under, mid-gasp. At this point, it took more strength to grant the boy air than it did to restrict it.

The mage's arms flailed, still struggling to try to push himself closer to air. The instructor wrote something down, his face still unreadable to Diego even so far into his training. He had no idea if this one was doing well, or failing. Sometimes it seemed like the criteria changed--were teenagers even really capable of passing all the tests otherwise? Some instructors had to be giving them slack.

Just as the mage's struggling began to slow and his back began to hitch, the instructor nodded. Diego brought him back up. Was his face red from the oxygen deprivation? Was it from stress? Was that water from the pool running down his face, or tears?

Diego didn't know why his chest felt tight at that thought. If these kids were almost old enough to destroy towns and spearhead invasions, they were old enough to understand the consequences of getting captured by an enemy. They were old enough to learn what enemies would do to get information. He supposed that they were old enough to learn what happened if you couldn't keep yourself safe.

Half an hour really wasn't very long at all, to the torturer of an enemy kingdom.

Down, hold, then back up. Down, hold, then back up. Diego repeated this until his shoulder began to ache. His instructor kept his gaze locked on him. He could feel him searching for any crack in his expression. Any ounce of pity, or remorse. Or guilt.

Diego made sure that there wouldn't be any.

His own son was the same age as this mage. Down, hold, up. He supposed it was just lucky that he'd been born without magic. Down, hold, up.

The little mage's struggling got weaker and weaker with every repetition. The minutes continued to tick by. Frantic coughing and gasping turned to desperate, deep breaths turned to smooth, silent breathing. The boy figured out how to subtly hold his breath, how to conceal his instinctive reactions. He stopped fighting. He began to focus on enduring.

The instructor checked his pocket watch. He wrote something else down. Down, hold, up. The boy's glasses had long since fallen off into the water. There was no attempt to grab them.

Finally, when the boy's eyes stopped even trying to flutter open, his breathing calm and even when he was pulled from the pool, the instructor capped his pen. He motioned his head towards the door.

His instructor's eyes never left his as Diego let the boy fall backwards to the unforgiving stone floor, finally releasing his grip. He did not wince at the sound of the boy's head hitting the floor. Turning, the instructor began to lead the way out. Diego risked a glance backwards as he left. Half-lidded eyes stared after him, slowly blinking.

Diego knew. The boy knew. They'd both learned the lessons that the instructor wanted to teach.

#whump #bthb #bad things happen bingo #mage of violence #the king's men #child abuse /#torture #water torture #near drowning #institutional abuse #man like no one in this kingdom is okay if they work closely under the king #it's a rough one!#this one's real dark!#no one's having a good time here!#Mariano started doing royal mage stuff at like 16 #so he's 15 here #he should be learning post post apocalyptic algebra not increasing his torture tolerance #Whump of a minor #Minor whump

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isamajor · 9 months

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Whumpblrful’s 100 Drabble Challenge - Whump Edition (prompt 16 to 20)

More of of @whumpblrful‘s 100 Drabble Challenge with Skyrim Custom-voiced Followers.

16 �� Blood

The adrenaline of the fight was waning and Lucien discovered with a dazed air the grass of the reddened plain and the acrid smell of metal everywhere. Lucien had fought for his life, fear in his stomach. He looked down at his feet and the reddened, sticky leather of his shoes. His usually white, clean hands were dripping with blood. He felt the blood sticking to his face. He saw him staining his fine clothes. He couldn't tell if it was his own blood or that of the bandits who had attacked them. Lucien felt his head buzzing and his legs shaking. (103)

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17 – Grief

Nebarra stood by the edge of the river, in front of a small wild rosebush. The sight of those flowers weighed on his heart. The memory of her bright smile and playful laughter haunted his thoughts. Her life cut short, an arrow to the head during the war. He clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white into his gauntelets, and let out a shaky breath. The pain of grief and the horrors of the war consumed him, leaving him feeling hollow and broken. He deserted, drowned his sorrows in alcohol, had known other girls to forget her face, in vain. (100)

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18 – Cut

Xelzaz gritted his teeth and stifled a curse as the Falmer passed his guard and cut him deep in the thigh. The next moment, the creature was dead, sliced in half by Gore, but the damage was done: the Falmer's sword had created a deep cut, just above his chitin boots, which was bleeding profusely. Nebarra grabbed the Argonian before he collapsed, screaming for someone to help him urgently. Remiel came and swiftly tore a piece of cloth from her tunic to improvise a bandage, while Nebarra lifted Xelzaz into a sitting position, watching Remiel rummaging into Xelzaz pouches to find a healing potion. (105)

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19 – Breathe

Taliesin had never known how to swim and when the wave took him, he could only struggle against the black and icy immensity of the sea. The cold water had been unforgiving, dragging him down. With the help of his traveling companions, he had managed to reach the shore, but blocking his breath made him pass out. They laid him on the ground, breathed air into his lungs. He coughed. Throws up. Then took a his first deep breath, hands clutching the pebbles, feeling the weight of his soaked robes pressing down on him. Never had breathing felt so delectable. (100)

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20 – Apology

Remiel had called him a bad person. What he was doing was wrong. We had to respect the dead. But was Xelzaz a bad person? He had become her closest companion in adventures and now they walked side by side, in silence, with a heavy heart. She had hurt him terribly with her words. She had been disgusted by his necromancy. But they couldn't stay like that, it hurt too much. They had to talk to each other, understand his motives and finally put their feelings to rest. And she also wanted to apologize for her words. (98)

► You can find here all the whump drabbles I made so far for Skyrim's Custom-Voiced followers ◄

#skyrim #skyrim custom followers #100whumpdrabbles #lucien flavius #nebarra #xelzaz #remiel #taliesin #blood #grief #cut #leg injury #breathe #near drowning #apology #whump drabble

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