#not sure if this is whumpy enough for whumptober | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

little-peril-stories · 1 year

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LPS: Blog (Re)Intro

Little Peril Stories | Kate | adult | she/her

Masterlists:

The Queen of Lies (ongoing): AU for The Prince of Thieves—sheltered, rich sad girl meets snarky criminal; chaos ensues; whumpy, Victorian forbidden love vibes with a side helping of angst and girl power

The Court of Rogues (work in progress): sequel to The Prince of Thieves; details to come 2024.

The Prince of Thieves (complete): guy and gal get arrested and tormented by super cool, totally normal constable while pals on the outside freak out and make bad decisions; fun 1800s prison vibes with a side helping of angst and chosen family

Blood Garnet (side WIP, low priority): girl gets lost in magic woods and gets chased by her hapless cousin and a grump hunter; awkward magic man tries to help; supernatural(ish) romantasy vibes with a side helping of angst and betrayal

Man of Letters (UNRESOLVED; part of Whumptober 2023): awkward scholar boi tries to save the girl he falls in love with and gets way more than he bargained for; light romantasy paired with heavy emo vibes, with a side of helping of angst and torture

Fen and Freddie (complete): gal gets kidnapped, dopey cinnamon roll with hopeless crush tries to rescue her and fails; vague superhero sci-fi vibes with a side helping of angst and pining

The Curiosity Collector (complete): sweet non-confrontational magic boy gets kidnapped and needs rescuing by bf and sis; witchy, autumnal vibes with a side helping of angst and falling in love

✨ Check out: OC & WIP extras (mood boards, lyrics inspo, tag game creations, and more!)

This is a whumpblr/writeblr space! Sometimes I’ll post/reblog writerly posts, memes, etc., but a lot of the posts/RBs will be about whump. I post original writing and reblog the work of others that I enjoy, gifs, tropes, prompts, and other such things.

I’m down with asks and tag games but may not respond right away. If I seem to ignore you, it’s not personal, it just means real life is taking priority at that moment.

I love comments and feedback on my writing and welcome them with open arms.

A note on age: I know I can’t actually stop you from accessing this blog, but I do not wish to interact with people under 18. It’s not personal, I’m sure you’re great, but it has everything to do with my job IRL. Please respect this boundary and come back on your 18th birthday.

Check out: My Most Common Tropes

My favourite elements of whump have to do with power dynamics, intimidation, dread, and angst. I love captivity-with-a-cause: kidnapping for ransom or as leverage over someone else, prison (in fantasy or historical settings, less so for modern settings though it’s not a hard rule), and the like. Fantasy presents so many creative versions of this trope, so I do love me some fantasy whump! It also gives lots of opportunity for dungeons, shackles, and other fun implements like that. Gratuitous tying or chaining up is always delightful to see. Pining, desperately trying to protect a loved one (…and failing), and self-sacrifice are other big tropes I love, so expect to see lots of those!

As for characters, I love it when they are as far as you can get from perfect, pure, and innocent—when they’re good enough people, but whose flawed or maybe even problematic decisions lead them into trouble. Always, always, I want my characters to have a hand in their own fates. Pure-hearted victims of the narrative who simply fall into a whumpy situation are cute and fun, but not what I tend to write.

A few odds and ends I’m such a sucker for, so you’ll probably find them in my writing:

Sibling relationships

Allusions to songs, books, folklore, and musicals

Nature and weather helping to set the scene (oh my goodness, how many times can I work snow into one story?)

If romance, either slow burn or instant attraction

…with a sprinkling of “huh, I don’t understand what I’m feeling, wtf is going on??”

‘In the nick of time’ rescues

Painfully awkward moments

Fluff and comfort, but only once they’ve really earned it

Almost kisses

Hard choices

Happy endings

You probably won’t find much gore or explicit noncon here, but there might be some elements of those in my stories or in reblogs. I don’t write BBU or pet whump.

My original “whumpy things I like” post can be found here.

Anyway, thanks for reading! 💕 Happy whumping!

#blog intro #whump intro #writeblr intro #this is a reintroduction #whump community #writeblr #whumpblr #pinned post

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little-meowyao · 6 months

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Sending this ask so u feel more tempted

You evil /j

Watch me turn this into angst, hm? I can do that. I can turn everything into angst. I'm the Lady of Angst

Imagine this: MY gets put up against some random Wen! He wins on account of strategy and agility, rather than brute force. The Nie are proud and stuff, but WRH, isn't of being mad, becomes very intrigued about MY.

He starts thinking about how he can very much hurt NMJ if he happens to take MY for himself, and how MY can be an asset as a hostage

(See: my whumptober fic that you resd, if I'm not mistaken)

So he does! He kidnaps MY from his bed in Unclean Realm and locks him up somewhere in Nightless City. WRH' soldiers go onto MY but MY kills them with his bare hands. Which interests WRH beyond "I can use this to hurt NMJ"

And we end up with a situation similiar to canon! Except this time, MY isn't undercover; he has no contact with the outside. He also hasn't commit the crime that got him kicked out of Qinghe— he is doing whatever WRH asks, because he wants to survive. But WRH ends up genuinely liking him. And MY ends up liking him back on account of daddy issues Older Man Gives Praise factor. And he feels horribly guilty about it

Cue, during sunshot, a far more whumpy reunital with NMJ. NMj who is shell shocked. NMJ who's been worrying about MY for years and then sees him by the side of the man who killed his father. NMJ who thought MY was getting tortured but turns out he isn't.

MY who feels horribly guilty. MY who hates to break NMJ's trust. MY who's become almost two separate people on account of compartmentalization: Wen Yao and Nie Yao. (So to speak)

Meng Yao who got legitimised (or made furen for that matter), and doesn't want to give that up. MY who's more attatched to WRH than he ever was to NMJ, on account of WRH's open praise that is also tactful (unlike NMJ's scolding which brought him more trouble) and on account of WRH being significantly older. On account of WRH gutting anyone that tries to hurt him.

And now MY is caugh up in a weird web of relationships where he doesn't want to hurt NMJ and is trying to avoid doing that, who still loves NMJ, but he also doesn't want to disappoint WRH.

MY trying to juggle the two men.

Hihihi

I'm sure I can fit some dead dove in here too if I try hard enough also

#you had that coming my villanous friend #feral little meowyao #jin guangyao #nie mingjue #sadistic tyrant daddy #wen ruohan #tragic saber man #what were yoy expecting honestly #i'm the Angst Person #hey i have an idea #send me the fluffiest #happiest #most feel good prompt #and see if i can make it sad #that'd be fun

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whump-me · 5 months

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My Patreon is officially live!!

New whump writing is going up 2-3 times a week, with a focus on ongoing novel-length stories. Interrogation whump, spy whump, lab whump, sci-fi and fantasy elements, lots and lots of emotional whump… basically the same stuff I post here, but more of it.

There are three tiers available:

$3/month: Early access to everything that goes up here. The plan is to always have one story going, with new chapters being released 2-3x/week. Once the last chapter is released on Patreon, the first chapter will be released on Tumblr. For the average novel-length story, that means subscribers will be reading about two months ahead.

$5/month: Early access, plus side stories and bonus novels. Approximately twice as much whumpy writing as the previous tier. Stories released to this tier will be exclusive to Patreon for a minimum of one year.

$7/month: Cleanly-formatted downloadable copies of every completed story in epub and mobi format. (Epub is readable on most e-reading apps and readers, including Kindle. Mobi is a legacy Kindle format.) This is the easiest way to read if you prefer to wait until the story is complete, or if you like to reread.

And if you can't join the Patreon, or just don't want to? No worries! I'll still be posting loads of stuff here.

(Name note: for now, I'm publishing these stories on Patreon using the same name I've previously used to publish more traditional--read, less overtly whumpy--urban fantasy novels, while I decide whether to publish all my novels under the same name, or use that name exclusively for urban fantasy. These stories may be published under a different name in the future.)

Obscure, a Mind Games novel, is the first story I'm releasing to Patreon, and the first chapter is available there now. (You might remember the Mind Games setting from my Whumptober 2023 stories.) New chapters will come out 3x/week.

When Obscure is complete on Patreon (which will be in mid-March), I'll be posting it here on the same schedule: three chapters a week until it's done. (If you want to get on the taglist for when it's available here, let me know.)

The first Patreon bonus content--which will be the first half of Defect, another Mind Games story--will be posted at the beginning of February. (As with my Whumptober 2023 stories, these novels all stand entirely alone, sharing a setting but nothing else. They can be read in any order, and you don't need to read one to understand the others.)

Story descriptions under the cut:

Obscure

Forgetting is dangerous. Remembering is deadly.

Elias: the man sitting handcuffed in an interrogation room deep in a secret underground facility. On the surface, he looks harmless. But his mind is a weapon—he can erase memories with a thought.

Kirill: the man on the other side of the interrogation table. He has a weapon of his own—he can see inside other people’s memories. All he has to do is make them feel a strong enough emotion, and their minds are his. And no emotion works quite as well as fear.

Elias has worked for decades to save the Enhanced—people born with superhuman abilities—from being abducted and forced into black-ops work. Now his captors want the names of everyone who has ever helped him. If Kirill’s methods of persuasion don’t work, he’ll simply use Elias’s fear to slip into his mind and plunder his memories.

But he may get more than he bargained for.

Decades ago, Elias erased a set of memories that tie the two of them together in a way neither of them suspects. And those memories are about to come to light.

Obscure is part of the Mind Games universe, a series of standalone stories about ordinary humans with superhuman abilities and the people who want to use or destroy them. This novel is 65,000 words long, or about 200 pages.

---

Defect

Their creators designed them to be the perfect weapons.

They forgot to make sure they could control their creations.

Sparrow’s explosive powers make her a living bomb. She spends her life locked away in a fireproof cell, brought out only when something needs to burn. But the longer you contain an explosion, the stronger it becomes.

All she knows is that she wanted to see the sky. Then came fire, and screaming, and death. Now she’s lost on unfamiliar city streets, hunted by her creators and the civilian authorities alike.

Mary went from being a failed experiment to a lab assistant prized for her intelligence and her perfect obedience. But after years without useful results, her lab is slated for shutdown. That means the dissection table for Mary. Unless she captures her creators’ rogue weapon and proves her lab holds the secret to controlling her power.

Mary offers Sparrow the thing she thought she could never have: freedom. Freedom from her creators, and from her own uncontrollable power.

It’s a lie.

Mary accepted long ago that there’s no such thing as freedom for people like them. There is only survival—and she’ll do whatever it takes to survive.

Defect is part of the Mind Games universe, a series of standalone stories about ordinary humans with superhuman abilities and the people who want to use or destroy them. This novella is 42,000 words long, or about 140 pages.

#my writing #my writing: Mind Games #my patreon #whump author boost

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actress4him · 8 months

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Whumptober 2023 - Day 26 - In Irons

This one is…a little boring, in my opinion, but hey, it’s the third to the last piece I’m writing for this event and I’m just thankful I haven’t completely burned out, only slowed down! Also if you like exhaustion this may not be boring to you at all lol

Taglist: @darthsutrich , @a-series-of-whumpy-events , @ladydani101 , @thingsthatgowhumpinthenight , @annablogsposts

Masterlist

No. 26: “Sometimes I get so tired; I don’t even know myself.” | Working To Exhaustion | “You look awful.”

Contains: lady whump, forced labor, brief and not completely serious sui ideation

It’s been almost two days since Adelaide last slept. Captain Payne had her on night watch last night, for the second time this week. All the men on board take turns staying up, and it never seems to faze them. She sees them running about the ship the next day as always, shimmying up masts and across ropes like they’re well rested.

Maybe that makes her pathetic, or dramatic. But as much as she hates the way they look down their noses at her weakness, she is weaker than they are. Before being brought onto this ship, her days were filled with embroidery and supervising the household staff and receiving callers and occasionally going out for a horse ride.

Now, she spends her time on her hands and knees, scrubbing the deck until her knees are bruised and her back aches. She pulls ropes with muscles that are barely starting to develop and stay constantly sore, and with hands that used to be delicate and pale but are now reddened and covered in blisters. She shoves heavy crates around to make room for more of the Captain’s loot.

And when she’s done with all of that, if she’s lucky, she’s sent to the galley to chop and stir and tend the coals. Otherwise, it’s back to even more scrubbing.

She can keep up with all of the work most days. But she’s absolutely exhausted at night, collapsing into her hammock and falling asleep almost instantly. That means that, to her, having to stay up all night for watch duty is one of the worst things she can be assigned. It sets her back on all of her tasks the next day, which just causes the Captain to pile even more on her. Her weary, sluggish work a couple of days ago is what prompted him to assign her to night watch again after just one night of sleep, she’s sure of it.

There are just a few more hours left now until she can sleep, though. He won’t make her stay up two nights in a row. She thinks she might just throw herself off the side of the ship if he did. He’s already had her scrubbing for most of the day, a sure sign of his displeasure with her, so hopefully that will be enough to appease him until tomorrow.

Adelaide puts all of her focus into the rope that she’s coiling. It’s heavy with sea water, and her arms protest each time she lifts it. The salt bites into the blisters that had burst open earlier in the day. But she has to get finished. She can’t be slow, doesn’t need to give the Captain any more excuses to punish her.

“You look awful.”

Turning her head wearily toward Marshall, she scowls. “That’s no way to speak to a lady.”

The corners of his mouth twitch a little as if he might actually smile. “Sorry. You do look exhausted, though.”

“I am,” she sighs, returning her attention to her work. “But it’s not much longer until I can turn in. I’ll be fine.”

He watches her in silence for a moment. “You know, it’s impressive, what you’re doing here.”

“Coiling rope?”

“No, working on this ship. I know it’s far from what you’re accustomed to, but you’ve jumped in and done what needs to be done. I’ve seen gentlemen of your class fail miserably and eventually get tossed overboard. I don’t believe any of us ever expected you to fare so much better.”

She doesn’t know what to do with that compliment. Succeeding at working on a pirate ship, at surviving a tyrant of a captain, is not something she ever wanted to accomplish, not something she feels proud of. But she appreciates it, nonetheless. Most probably haven’t even noticed how hard she’s working, and certainly don’t care.

“Thank you. I’m only trying to survive.”

“I know you are. But the fact that you have is what’s impressive.” He clears his throat. “When you’re done there, Captain wants you in the galley.”

Adelaide just nods, finishing the last of the rope. Cooking is the easiest task she has, despite how hot it can get. “I’ll go there now.”

She takes two unsteady steps, feet heavy like her boots are filled with lead, and feels the need to reach out for the railing to support herself. Unfortunately, she doesn’t quite reach far enough. Her balance is thrown off, and she stumbles, dizzy and lacking the strength to right herself.

Just before she falls gracelessly onto the deck, though, Marshall catches her by her arm. “Whoa. Do you need me to walk with you to the galley?”

Frowning, she shakes her head adamantly and pulls her arm away politely but firmly. “No, thank you. I don’t need the Captain seeing me as weaker than he already does. I’m only tired. I told you, I’ll be fine.”

Marshall takes a step back and nods. “Very well. Take care of yourself, Miss Gray.”

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whumpster-dumpster · 2 years

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sometimes i feel like smth isnt "really" whump or that im trying to make smth that isnt whump into whump and im not 100% sure why it happens but it can be a real pain in the ass? like, im doing (very late) whumptober prompts, and it just keeps fuckin happening. it might be, like... i don't know if i'm writing it "whumpy" enough, or i don't know if my concepts are sound, or whatever the fuck, but its a big pain in the ass esp when it comes to ao3 tags. its just like... can i count a fic where a character gets yelled at by his sister for his shit decisions while hes in the hospital for a broken leg as whump? fuck if i know! there's no comfort here and i dont know how to quantify this stuff so ill just dump it in the bin anyways since its a whumptober prompt

Just in my personal opinion (everybody's views differ and that's totally fine, don't take my word as law) whump typically has a physical/mental damage element. If it's solely emotional, I consider it angst rather than whump.

So I'd call the scenario you suggested both angst and whump. Angst because his sister is angry and upset (emotional) and whump because he's in the hospital with a broken leg (physical).

That's how I quantify it. I hope your prompts work out!

#whump #angst #terms and definitions #answered ask #anonymous

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den-of-the-jadewizard · 8 months

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Whumptober: Day One; I’m trying just to fill in all the gaps.

"But you're already gone..."

A/N: This one's a bit rusty, and doesn't feel whumpy enough for me, but that's okay. It gets better.

This is the FNAF AU for the cast of Unified, my comic about shape people. Since I'm hyper fixed on Unified, a lot of these one shots are about them.

"Brother...?"

Bracer stilled, almost bristling as he heard Swift's meek and concerned tone. He didn't dare move his gaze from the corkboard in front of him. He didn't answer him either, hoping his silence was enough to get the point across that he wanted to be left alone right now.

"We've talked about this..."

He put a hand up to cut Swift off. Of course, he wouldn't take the hint. Bracer huffed a sigh, reply curt and to the point.

"I don't want to hear it."

"It wasn't your fault-"

"You've told me a million times already."

"It's true."

"I know that."

"I don't believe you. You've been running yourself ragged for the past month on this, Bracer. The case has been closed-"

"It's not!" Bracer slammed the table and whipped around to face him, snarling.

Swift flinched at the sudden outburst.

"You're a hypocrite, Swift," he rebuked him, "The hell is this any different from the cold case

you've been deadlocked on for four fucking years!?"

"Least we had a lead, but here we knew what had happened how it malfunctioned-"

"-No, I'm not going to listen to whatever you're spewing. If you're here to do that then get the hell out of my house..."

"Bracer, I-"

"Get out," He took a step towards him, Swift taking a step back, "...now."

Bracer took another step, and he took another back as well, this continued till they were out the door, Swift franticly tried once more to convince him.

"Brother, please! I knew they meant quite a lot to you but..." Swift trailed off upon seeing his shocked and then outraged expression.

Bracer trembled in rage, the simple sentence tipping him off. How could he possibly know what he was feeling right now? How dare he...

"YOU KNOW NOTHING OF MY LIFE!!!" He screamed at him. "How could you possibly know!? When you've been gone for most my fucking life!?!"

Swift reared back, almost like he was just shot. The words cut deep but Bracer couldn't stop himself, wouldn't, not this time.

"Bracer, I- I'm..."

"They were a better family than you ever were..." He said coldly, venom dripping off his tongue.

Bracer did not waste time in staring at Swift's shocked expression. He slammed the door in his face before turning to flee down the hall, charging into his room and slamming his door behind him as well.

He screamed, throwing any objects in reach against the walls and across the room. He couldn't control himself any longer, he couldn't stand it.

His voice cracked, throat feeling as if it was being torn in two. He yelled at the top of his lungs, sounding as if he was being murdered, it was a wonder no one called the police. He didn't care about anything but the rage...the hurt.

He threw himself onto his bed, screaming and clawing into the sheets, his body thrashing as if trying to bury itself into it.

Why did they have to visit that damn restaurant!?

WHY!?

It should've been him.

'It' wanted him.

Not them.

So why?

Grief crashed into him like a freight train. He sobbed bitterly into the sheets, body heaving in vain attempt to calm himself.

He wanted them back...

He just...wanted them.

Just...

...

Bracer wasn't sure when he had cried himself to sleep, it surely didn't matter. It wasn't the first time he did so and probably won't be the last either.

It all shifted into a deep-seated numbness as he laid on his side. He was spent from last night, it had all been too much, not just this but all of it had. He glanced at his closed door, a sense of longing hitting him. Part of him expecting them to just knock on the door and walk in.

He sighed, closing his eyes again. He doubts he'll have the strength to even get out of bed today, much less continue with the investigation.

He was left alone with only his thoughts to keep him company.

Alone...

Swift...

Bracer had probably drove away the only living person who cared about him anymore. He had no hard feelings about his past, he was angry and just saying whatever without a sense of tact. He noted to apologize whenever he met with him next, if he ever did.

However, the case still had not made any sense to him. He didn't want to let go of it, he needed to know why it happened. Animatronics don't normally have a bite strength hard enough to kill anyone, it would go against every law of common sense for any company at all, it had to be intentional in some way. Plus, with the numerous other cases of tragedy happening in many different franchises, it all had to be connected in some way as well.

His head started to ache again, he was straining to think, he felt terrible. He huffed a sigh again, and stopped thinking, just lying there helplessly numb to the world outside his bedroom.

He'll figure this out...

Even if it kills him.

He owes them that much.

#whumptober2023 #no.1 #lyric #OC #fic #cuss words #Unified #fnaf au #yes fnaf au but it feels enough from fnaf that I put it just as OCs #angst #emotional whump

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quietlyimplode · 2 years

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I’m not the best with words but I wanted a way to say thank you to everyone who supported whumptober. Especially those who messaged, commented, reblogged and just generally supported it.

I’ll be posting four non whumpy short fics over the next four hours as a thank you, as I don’t know how else to say it. <3

Special shout out to @natasha-romanoff-deserved-better (100x), @broken--bow , @redbirdbella, @millenniallust4death, @redroom-romanoff, and @wolferine your encouragement, checking in, and kindness in your words and patience has not gone unnoticed (I’m sure I have missed people so hopefully you know who you are) Thank you doesn’t seem enough.

#whumptober talk #wonderful humans #thank you note

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whumptober · 2 years

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Heya! I know that Whumptober is literally starting tomorrow, but I have one more question. Can I post a fic for the Whumptober (using the prompts) even if I'm not sure if it's whumpy enough? Does it still count?

Hi,

just because October starts, doesn't mean you have to have everything ready and that we're closing the inbox 😅 we'll be here, answering questions throughout the month.

Whump can be subtle and if you think it's whumpy, then it's whumpy :)

#mod pan #asks #theiceemperor #whumptober2022

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seldomscilence16 · 2 years

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Whumptober day 13: Cant Make an Omlette without Breaking a few Legs

Fandom: Steven Universe

Prompts;

Fracture

Dislocation

"Are you here to break me out?"

Amethyst has definetly said this (title) at some point.

Anyway, anyone who knows my archive knows I have a WIP SU fanfic and I can hear the screams of readers as I write this after not updating in... who knows how long.

So enjoy this AU 😬 its a little less... uh whumpy...

Pearls were property. It was the first thing they knew when they were formed, and no one let them forget it.

This particular Pearl was pretty old, she doesnt know if there were Pearls before her or not, just knows the ones that came after. She was created by and for White Diamond, the oldest diamond and main ruler of the courts. So this Pearl was knows as 'White Pearl', just as the Diamonds that came after White got their own pearls and identified them also as 'Yellow Pearl', 'Blue Pearl', and eventually, 'Pink Pearl'.

Other pearls of course came after, with facets and jobs, serving under gems who served under the Diamonds.

This Pearl, White Pearl, was currently in jail.

Where she'd been for quite some time.

She stayed in a cell, in isolation, simply dubbed dangerous with no interaction whatsoever. She supposes she should be honored to be called "dangerous" as a pearl, but if anyone said it aloud itd be followed by laughter. A pearl? Dangerous? It did seem laughable, to everyone but pearls perhaps

And the gems shes poofed, or worse.

But even in Isolation, Pearl has learned things. Between the chatty pebbles and the gossiping guards, she knows of the rebellion, of Pinks shattering and all that led up to it. She knows that poor Pink Pearl was taken by White Diamond, sometime after Pearls imprisonment. The thought makes her boil, that little Pink Pearl was with that cruel eye sore, controlled like a puppet no doubt, the young Pearl was not made for a diamond like White.

Then again... Pearl wondered if any gem was made for a diamond like White. If they should be made for anyone.

She certainly wasnt.

She served for a long time, was perfect, and loved and hated in equal measures by other gems. But she protected her fellow pearls, and she served her Diamond, and in secret well... in secret she saved. She saved discarded gems, she saved the mistreated, she saved the defective and off color.

She supposes, she may have been the first rebel. But she couldnt know for sure.

But the rebellion has grown great, since her imprisonment. She thinks many of the ones she freed may have joined, the way they know things, the inner workings, it makes sense. She hopes they have saved others as well, that her efforts were not in vain, and she hopes one day for her fellow diamond Pearls to be free.

Her head tilts towards the door from where it rests on her knees, hearing a commotion of sorts outside and hoping for some more intel. Anything to interupt the ever present silence of her cell.

"You're lost arent you."

"No! This is just a... detour..."

"Uh huh."

"I've never been here before! Leave me alone!"

Pearl shakes her head at the poor souls,

"Turn left then right at the end of the hallway and you'll be back on track for an exit." She calls, turning her face just enough to be heard but not bothering to sit up or remove her head from her knees.

"Who said that!?"

She doesnt bother to answer, they'll follow the directions eventually, and Pearl will be left alone once again.

"Is, someone in there?"

"Oh so you arent here to break me out?" She says sarcastically, "the guards will be by any moment now, I suggest you leave before you lose your chance."

"Cant, I have a... leg dislocation... that can only be cured by you answering our questions."

"We're manifestations of light, I doubt your... leg is dislocated." Not the type of conversation Pearl assumed shed be having anytime soon, but its noise at least.

"Am, this cell is marked 'dangerous', I think we should go..."

"If shes a danger to homeworld dont you think we should take her with us?"

"Dangerous is dangerous!"

"Guys, nows not the time to argue, just ask. Hey! Ms.Dangerous, why are you in jail?"

From what Pearl can tell, theres three gems outside her door. They dont sound like court gems, at least not really, they're obviously running, and she knows what their running from wont be far behind. If she remains silent long enough, perhaps they'll take the hint and leave.

"You broke her L. Hey! My dislocation is worsening!"

Or not, why is 'Am' so stubborn.

"Its like you three want to get captured."

"... theres way more than three of us..." the voice changes slightly, "yeah! Theres... an army of us."

"Very convincing. Though, as an Amethyst you could be considered an army in some cases I suppose." Pearl muses, amused by the stuttering and furious whispers that come after.

"We should leave! This gem could be serious trouble!"

"Yeah, that was kinda spooky..."

"...why do the Diamonds consider you Dangerous?"

"Havent you heard? No, youre probably much too young... Im a treasonous gem, a threat to homeworld and all it stands for, a shatterer too good for shattering. I think they hope to recondition me someday, when they remember im here." Pearl chuckles without humor, "now, I can hear the guards coming, I do suggest you go. They will shatter you on spot at best, torture you for information at worst."

Theres some more whispering, then perhaps silent conversation as theres no movement, she presses her face further into her legs as the silence bears down once more. Perhaps they were cunning, and tricked her, perhaps they werent running at all, perhaps now she would be shattered or worse. She couldnt care really. Most gems have probably forgotten her anyway, she had no more use.

The lock on her door clicks, but she doesnt move, she doesnt need to show them dignaty, she will die how she likes thank you. Light creeps in from the hall as the door opens slowly, itd been a long while since shed seen light. Theres a gasp and she turns her face ever so slightly to see a Lapis, Peridot and a small Amethyst in the doorway. They are not dressed in diamonds regalia, nor do they look like part of the courts shed seen so long ago.

They bore stars.

"Youre the Pearl arent you? The one they all talk about but pretend not to talk about up here. The one all those off colors and stuff mention!"

"Oh they call me 'the' Pearl now. I suppose thats better than what the Diamonds call me." She stays where she sits, staring with one eye, curiously at the three gems.

"Wait, you mean this is the Pearl that was fighting the good fight like all those years ago?" Amethyst questions with a raised brow.

"Id say there was one fight really." Pearl mumbles, thinking of the events that led to her being in this cell. The pain still lingers sometime, in the long silences. Of punishments and fights and failure. Of never being good enough, even when you tried so hard to be.

"So you are! I cant believe White D didnt shatter you..."

"Oh dear, there are worse things than shattering." Pearl says sadly, pressing the hidden side of her face further into her leg with a grimance, "give a purpose and take it away. Give a reason to live, then destroy that, and let them stay to watch their world crumble. There are worse things than rejoining the dust of the universe."

"You can still have a reason... you obviously still want to help. So... join the Rebellion." Lapis says it a little awkwardly, like she hasnt asked before. She must be newer.

"Yeah, pretty sure G already got the other pearls, you can come too." Amethyst says.

"Whatever you decide, hurry, I hear them coming!" The Peridot looks nervously over her shoulder, frame trembling slightly.

Pearl lifts her head then, looking at the three fully, she ignores their gasps,

"The other Pearls. You mean the diamonds Pearls?? Theyre free?"

"Uh, yeah. We were the distraction. G and the others should have them..."

But little Pink, they'd need her help to free her from Whites control. It may be the last thing she does, but she will not leave little Pink in torture any longer. Even if Blue and Yellow hate her now, even if they dont remember her, they were free, and Pearl would protect them.

"We better hurry then."

Pearl is up, leaping over their heads and pulling a bow from her gem, she shoots the two guards, poofing them. She turns back to the rebels, light no doubt glinting off the fractured cracks that travel from her temple all the way to her thigh, most hidden beneath clothes, but her face is a mess shes sure. She knows they stare, but they have no time.

"I may be old, but I'll fight for freedom, if you'll have me."

"Yeah dude, youre awesome."

#whumptober2022 #no.13 #fracture #imprisonment #steven universe #fic #corrupt government #mentioned death #abuse #steven universe au #white diamond pearl as main Pearl #pink diamond may actually be dead idk #Pearl is bamf

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afolderfullofstories · 9 months

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Not sure if it's cause i haven't been writing consistently anymore or this year's whumptober isn't doing anything for me. I'm not sure if it's not whumpy enough? Or is it too vague? or I just don't have any inspiration to write. i haven't decided yet on my plans for whumptober. been having such a shitty time at work that all my energy has been sucked dry but I'm leaving the job so hopefully things will get better. but no promises. PS: Anyone know what the AI and whumptober discourse is about? (just wanna know whats the discourse, don't want to get involve in the discourse, whether or not i do whumptober will have nothing to do with the discourse) PSS If AI is really the 'theme' this year, then maybe I'll put in the prompts and write the first suggestion given as a challenge. XD But something tells me I will end up getting a lot of hate for that.

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flowercrown-bard · 4 years

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The Boy who Ran: Chapter 2

Whumptober prompt 15: Magical Healing

Fandom: The Witcher

Pairing: Geralt/ Jaskier

TW: Injuries (no detailed description)

part 1

Leaving the Feywilds had been scary. Jaskier has had a rough start back in the human world. After spending who knew how much time with the Fae - eating their food, singing their magic-filled songs, living carefree amidst the chaos that swirled through their realm– it had been strange to come back to a world where everything could be a threat. It had been scary, intimidating and oh so exiting.

Eventually, Jaskier had found his footing in the human world. Or rather, he had found Geralt of Rivia, who dragged him back to his feet when he misstepped. The witcher always did so with an annoyed grunt, with threats that the next time he would leave Jaskier to deal with the consequences of his actions alone.

And yet, despite his words, Geralt would always help him and make sure nothing bad happened to him until their paths separated for the winter, when Geralt would go back to Kaer Morhen and Jaskier would once again breathe in the chaos of the Fae court until it was time to find Geralt again.

“Jaskier” a barely noticeable smile tugged at the witcher’s lips, as Jaskier finally caught up to him. “How is it that we keep running into each other?”

Jaskier let out a bright laugh. “A strange coincidence, really.”

Except it was as far from a coincidence as could be. It wasn’t hard for someone who had lived with the Fae to find who they were looking for as long as they knew their name. “It’s good to see you again, my friend.”

Geralt hummed and Jaskier’s smile brightened. So they have finally reached a stage where Geralt wasn’t denying their friendship any longer.

“So where are you going?”

“Hunting.”

“What? I never would have guessed.” Jaskier huffed and bumped into Geralt’s shoulder good-naturedly as he walked alongside of his friend. “But it is very convenient. I desperately need new inspiration.”

“You’re not coming with me” Geralt grunted, but this time it lacked the bite Jaskier had learned to accept in the earlier years of their travels. “It’s too dangerous.”

A sly smirk stole onto Jaskier’s face. “You care about me.”

The grunt was answer enough.

Jaskier didn’t have a problem staying back while Geralt hunted. In fact, he much preferred it. While Jaskier knew that what Geralt did was important work, he still couldn’t find it in him to watch creatures get hurt, no matter how much time had passed.

So no, he didn’t have a problem not having to witness a fight.

He did however have a problem with the boredom. Jaskier had hoped that he could at least spend an evening drinking and exchanging stories with Geralt, before his friend would need to get back to work. He had looked forward to it.

Instead he watched Geralt disappear from his sight to chase some monster.

Jaskier sighed. It was just so boring without him around. What was Jaskier supposed to do while he waited? He had already sung so much that flowers had started to blossom around him.

It was nice to see that he still held some of that chaos he from the Feywilds within him. It wasn’t nearly as much as a born Fae held, but it was a part from the home Jaskier had found.

If only he could share the wonderful things he could do with Geralt. He wanted to show him how his songs could summon sunshine and how flowers could bloom where he danced. He imagined the wonder in Geralt’s eyes when he showed him all he could do.

In his heart of hearts, he knew it was an improbable fantasy. Geralt had no use for flowers and magic songs. Jaskier didn’t need to show him those things for Geralt to like him. The witcher might not ever say it, might even deny that they were friends, but Jaskier knew the witcher liked him as he was.

He sighed once more and stood up. Surely, Geralt must be done with the fighting by now. He should go after him and see if there was anything Geralt needed.

A screech behind him, made him pause. He turned around, a smile parting his lips as he saw the beast. The creature was magnificent. Sharp talons, even sharper teeth and wings that blocked out the sun. Jaskier had never seen such a creature, but he recognised it from Geralt’s descriptions. A forktail.

And it was headed straight for Jaskier.

What had Geralt always told him? If he ever saw a beast that seemed even in the slightest threatening, he should run and call for Geralt.

Now, Jaskier had neither a problem with running, nor with calling for Geralt. But absolutely nothing about this creature seemed threatening. In the Feywilds, children played with draconids, so surely this forktail wasn’t a threat.

“My, you are a beautiful creature!” Jaskier called out with a brilliant smile.

The forktail landed, squashing the flowers Jaskier had summoned before and bared its teeth. Its tail whipped to the side, like a cat readying itself to pounce on a mouse.

Jaskier furrowed his brow.

“That is no way to greet a friend.” If there was a certain power to his voice that no human should be able to possess than that was no one’s business but his own.

The creature let out a deep growl, but it hid its teeth away again and relaxed slightly.

Slowly Jaskier approached, hand outstretched and a soothing melody on his lips. With every step he took, the folktail seemed to calm more, until finally, he was touching the creature’s muzzle.

Jaskier’s smile could brighten the darkest night, as the forktail pressed gently against his touch.

“There you go. There is nothing frightening about you, is there?”

The creature’s belly rumbled with a sound that could almost be mistaken for a purr.

“Jaskier, get away!”

Violently, he flinched at the shout and whirled around. His heart skipped a beat.

Geralt was running towards him, the remnants of his last kill still on his armour and sword, which he held ready to strike.

“Geralt, stop!” There was no power behind his words. It would have been so easy. He knew Geralt’s name. If he wanted to, he could use the little chaos he had to make him do anything he wanted. He couldn’t. Not with Geralt. Not with his friend.

Something untameable flashed in Geralt’s eyes and he bared his teeth, eyes locked onto the creature.

The creature which had snapped away from Jaskier’s touch. The gust of wind that made Jaskier stumble was the only warning Jaskier got, before the forktail swung itself up in the air, ready to attack the witcher.

With growing terror Jaskier watched as the beast swooped down on his friend, claws outstretched.

“NO!”

He reacted without thinking. His feet carried him across the grass faster than a human should be able to run, the wind giving his heels wings.

The hard impact as he pushed Geralt out of the way left him breathless, but Geralt was safe. He wasn’t lying on the ground, speared by the forktails talons.

Pain. Why was there pain? It didn’t make sense, but it was unmistakable. It felt like fire racing up his side and something wet made his doublet cling uncomfortably against his skin.

He frowned down at himself. He had been sure that his doublet had been purely blue when he had bought it. So why was there so much red? He didn’t understand.

Panic gripped at Jaskier’s heart, making him unable to breath. Dark splotches blocked his view and his heart was racing.

Through the opal glass that Jaskier seemed to be looking through, he saw a blurry figure, clad in black wielding a sword, fighting a mighty beast.

Jaskier grounded himself in the view. Geralt was safe. Jaskier had protected him, now he only needed to make sure that he himself was alright.

He just needed to breath. He could do this; he could heal himself, he had done it before. Granted, it had always been minor injuries, scratches at the most, but he had healed them.

An unbidden voice fought its way into Jaskier’s mind. Did you though? Did you ever truly heal yourself?

The words sounded suspiciously like the mockery of one of the Fae who had never truly accepted Jaskier in their midst. You are not a real Fae. You are weak. Without the magic given to you by my sibling, you would be dead or still out there living a pathetic mortal life.

Jaskier clenched his teeth, willing the voice to go away.

He wasn’t weak. He had knit his own skin back together numerous times and he would do so again.

Still, the doubt lingered, couldn’t pushed away, try as he might.

He gritted his teeth and pressed his hands tightly against the gashes in his skin. Ever so slowly, a tingle spread across his side, replaced the fire that had been raging there before. He gasped as he felt the edges of the wound begin to close.

His vision swam, the colours of his surrounding blurring together. The sounds of the fight were drowned out by the blood rushing in his ears and the hammers pounding in his head from the inside. Any moment now, his head would split in half or Jaskier would burst from the unbearable exertion it took to grasp at the chaos.

It was too much. He couldn’t do this.

He panted as he felt his hands slip away from the wound.

The treacherous voice in his head had been right. He was weak. He was unable to do anything meaningful without the gifts of the Fae. Whenever he had called upon the Fae powers before, he had been in the Feywilds, where chaos reigned and Jaskier was free to take as much of it as he needed. He had never truly on his own.

Not as he was now.

No, that wasn’t true. He wasn’t on his own. He had a friend here, one who always made sure that Jaskier was safe. He just needed to call for help. That’s what Geralt had told him. He needed to run and to call for help.

“Geralt…” The sound barely made it past his lips. The word was drowned out in the sounds of the fight. They were faint, far away, but Jaskier could make out a voice, calling for… for something. He couldn’t understand. It didn’t matter.

He needed to run. He tried to put one foot forward, but before it had even left the ground, his knees buckled.

Jaskier went to the floor with a strangled gasp, that went unheard. There he was again, that confused three-year old he had once been, crying and not knowing why no one came to comfort him.

He squeezed his eyes shut, as though not seeing the world could protect him from it. As though the exhaustion and pain in his head and side weren’t killing him.

A hand touched his face. Warm. Comforting. Geralt.

With the strength of a hundred men Jaskier pried his eyes back open. His comfort was looking down at him, fear written all over his face. There was something fundamentally wrong about it. It was too open, too vulnerable. Geralt should never have to look so afraid.

Geralt’s lips moved, but the rushing of blood in Jaskier’s ears was too loud to understand him. He concentrated, put all the focus he had on his friend hovering over him.

Slowly, as though through a mist the words gained in clarity.

“You idiot! Why did you do it?” The almost unnoticeable tremble in Geralt’s voice was enough to shake Jaskier fully awake. “I told you to run.”

Jaskier cracked a weak smile. “I did run, didn’t I?”

“You were supposed to run away from the danger.”

Jaskier tried to shrug nonchalantly to ease Geralt’s mind, but it ripped at his wounds, eliciting a gasp from him.

He blinked to vanish the dark spots that came back with a vengeance, obscuring his view of Geralt. Panic once again seized Jaskier’s heart. Seeing Geralt had grounded him, had made the pain slightly more bearable. Seeing him now disappear behind a wall of black turned Jaskier’s blood into ice. Blindly, he reached out for him. He needed to know that Geralt was still there.

Gerlat’s hand found his.

“Am I dying?”

“No.” Geralt’s tone left no room for argument or doubt. “Not while I’m here. I got you, Jaskier. Trust me.”

Something warm settled in Jaskier’s chest at the words, gave him the strength to fight against the darkness and slowly regain his sight. “You know I always trust you, Geralt.”

“Good.” A pause. “I need to look at your injury. It might hurt.”

“I trust you,” Jaskier repeated and squeezed Geralt’s hand. He needed him to know that he meant it.

Carefully, Geralt loosened his fingers from Jaskier’s. Jaskier held his breath as Geralt opened his doublet and lifted his shirt underneath. The fabric was stuck to the gash and ripped the partially dried blood away.

Jaskier couldn’t repress the startled outcry. The little healing he had managed hadn’t been nearly enough to ease the pain away.

“How bad is it?” He wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear the answer.

“It’s bad.” Geralt gave a small sigh. Cold, steady fingers prodded at Jaskier’s skin and made him hiss. “But not as bad as I had thought. The wound isn’t that deep, actually. It shouldn’t have bleed as it did. How is there so much blood from such a small wound?”

“It’s for dramatic effect.”

Geralt grunted the way he always did, when Jaskier said or did something that some might consider stupid. The sound held fond exasperation. But more than anything, it sounded relieved.

Despite the sharp pain, Jaskier held still as Geralt cleaned and bandaged his wound, talking softly to him to distract him from the pain.

Jaskier might be far away from home, he might not have as much power, as he had gotten used to over the years, but he had Geralt. He had a friend that would take care of him.

The human world was gritty and dangerous, but as long as he had Geralt, it was the most beautiful place Jaskier could imagine.

#whumptober2020 #no15 #magical healing #the witcher #fic #injuries tw #Geraskier #fae!jaskier #well #kind of?#my writing #not sure if this is whumpy enough for whumptober #but alas

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actress4him · 8 months

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Whumptober 2023 - Day 10 - In Irons

Look! Proof that I haven't forgotten about this series, either!

This is a prequel piece, taking place before Adelaide runs away in the first chapter.

Taglist: @darthsutrich , @a-series-of-whumpy-events , @ladydani101 , @thingsthatgowhumpinthenight , @annablogsposts

Masterlist

No. 10: “Can’t you see that you’re lost without me?”

Contains: abusive relationship, historical sexism, insulting a woman’s appearance/body, vaguely referenced marital activities, talk of cleavage, talk of pregnancy

Charles comes up behind her as her maid is helping her dress. She always wishes he wouldn’t. He’s seen her in much more of a state of undress than her shift and stays - he’s her husband, after all - but that doesn’t keep Adelaide from feeling exposed.

He doesn’t touch, and doesn’t get in the way as her petticoat is slipped over her head. He just watches, looking her up and down with a critical eye.

“I highly doubt any other man ever took a second glance at you, you know.”

She makes eye contact with him in the mirror for an instant, surprised by the statement, then quickly looks away again. He’s in another of his moods, clearly, and as usual, she’s the one he’ll take it out on. She just needs to remain quiet until he’s done.

“Other than the unusual color of your hair, you’ve hardly anything to offer. Your features are too boyish, your breasts are embarrassingly small -” Adelaide’s face heats rapidly, shocked that he’d bring up such a thing -“and the freckles…” He sighs heavily, as if the marks on her skin have personally offended him.

“Be sure she’s wearing plenty of powder tonight, down to her neckline, as well,” he instructs the maid, who nods silently, focused on preparing the next petticoat and pretending she’s not listening to the rest of the conversation. “Just try to make sure she’s as presentable as possible. Everyone is already talking about why you’re not with child yet, I don’t need them talking about your looks, as well.”

Why would they? I’m already taken. By you. Clearly my looks weren’t that horrible when you asked my father to court me.

“You come from an admirable family, and your dowry was acceptable, but I hope you know that if I hadn’t taken you, you’d have ended up a spinster. You owe me for the pampered life of a married woman you’re now living.”

Ah, there ‘tis. This is about me owing him an heir, as usual.

He continues to stare at her for a long moment, displeasure creasing his features. Adelaide stands with her hands folded in front of her and prays he’ll leave.

“Well, hurry up and finish getting ready, then.” Turning on his heel, he marches toward the door. Just before he exits, she hears him mutter, “If our son ends up with freckles…”

I hope you never have a son. I’d have rather ended up a spinster than to share a bed with you.

“Madame? Forgive me if this is too forward, but I’ve heard that some of the ladies will add, um…padding to their bodices. Would you like me to…?”

“No, thank you,” Adelaide answers coolly, then gives the maid a slight, forced smile in the mirror. “Powder me enough to appease him, but let’s not go too far in catering to his whims.”

The maid smiles back, ducking her head, though not before Adelaide sees the approval in her eyes. “Yes, madame.”

#whumptober2023 #no.10 #lyric #can't you see that you're lost without me?#original content #fic #sexism tw #pregnancy tw #abusive relationship tw #emotional abuse tw #in irons #adelaide the pirate #lady whumpee #arranged marriage #historical fiction #colonial era #whump series

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buckybarnesowl · 3 years

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It Never Ends - Chapter 3

A Whumptober 2021 Series

Pairing: College!AU Bucky x fem! Reader

Series description: Bucky and Y/n are fourth-year undergrads with the same major. They’ve always had a crush on each other but were too reserved to do anything about it. One horrendous night pushes them together and they’re forced to navigate the fallout together, for better or for worse.

Series warnings: 18+!!! This series is not for minors. The main plot line is based around sexual assault/rape themes and the fallout that comes from that type of trauma. Please if you are not 18+ do not engage. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

A/n: Each chapter will be different Whumptober 2021 prompts. I'm aiming to be a completist! (We'll see how well that goes LOL). There will be a happy ending-ish, but the series is going to be FULL of whump so buckle up, it's going to be a whumpy ride (I said what I said).

Chapter 3 warnings: reference to non-con (attempted rape); reference to drugging; nightmare; panic attack; flashback/trauma

Chapter 3 word count: 2.4k

Chapter 3 prompts:

No. 18 - THE DOCTOR IS IN “Now smile for the camera” | doctor’s visit | CPR

No. 28 - IT’S NOT JUST IN YOUR HEAD “Good. You’re finally awake.” | nightmares | panic

No. 31 - HURT & COMFORT disaster zone | trauma | prisoner

Alternative Prompt No. 7 - Screaming

Previous chapter | Series Masterlist | Masterlist

The next day was like walking through a dream.

Y/n knew she was in the clinic. She heard everything Dr. Cho had told her. That they found traces of ketamine still in her blood. That she wanted Y/n to take the next week off to give her two full weeks along with thanksgiving reading break. That she would have to come back tomorrow to pick up the notes for her professors because the printer was broken. That she could report it if she wanted to, even though she didn’t remember who her attackers were. That she didn’t have to decide right then. That everything was going to feel fucked up.

It was all too much and yet somehow not enough. It just didn’t make any sense. How did this happen? Who did this to her? Why couldn’t she remember?

“I want you to take care of yourself over the next few weeks. This is a heavy thing you’ve gone through, Y/n.”

All she could do was nod.

“You’re going to feel a range of emotions, not just day to day, but possibly hour to hour. You might remember more, when you least expect it. Be gentle with yourself. Do you have anyone on campus that you trust?”

Another nod.

“Good. Try and make sure to keep people around you. You might find yourself wanting to retreat, and that’s a completely normal reaction to what you’ve gone through. But it’s important to know you don’t have to go through this alone. There are resources for you and people that care about your well-being. Don’t be afraid to ask for help. And you can come to the clinic anytime. I’m here to help in whatever way I can. In the meantime I’ll have the receptionist book you a followup for next week.”

“K,” Y/n croaked out. It was all she could muster.

Dr. Cho had been so sincere and caring, it’s just that none of it seemed real.

Walking out of the exam room and into the reception area, she could see Natasha in front of her now. She registered her furrowed brow and soft half-smile. But it was fuzzy around the edges. As if Y/n wasn’t really there even though she was.

“You ok?”

Yet another silent confirmation, an autopilot response in the only way her body seemed capable of giving.

“Let’s get you home. Wanda texted me to say she was making us some stew her mom used to make when they were kids. Sounded amazing.”

“Hmmm,” Y/n acknowledged.

Home. She was so fucking tired. She just wanted to fall asleep and not wake up for a week. What’s the point of being awake when you can’t even feel anything, and you just keep seeing the same fucking mouth and feeling the same fucking hands and—

“Babe?” Nat was blinking at Y/n as she held the door open for her.

“Sorry, kind of out of it still. The doctor said it can take up to 24 hours for the…”

She trailed off. The words were there, but her mouth couldn’t seem to push them out.

“All good. We can sit for a bit if you need?”

Y/n shook her head. “No, please. Let’s get the fuck out of here. I need a nap.”

The redhead simply nodded at her friend, relieved that she was saying what she needed.

“Food first, ok?”

When they got back to their shared dorm, Wanda had the table already set. She dished out the late lunch before Y/n had a chance to decline. After they ate, Y/n gave them the Coles Notes version of her appointment with Dr. Cho. Then she recounted what happened the night before.

As much as she could remember.

She knew Bucky had told them how he found her. God, she was mortified at that and would have to unpack that another time. For now she tried to focus on getting the story out.

It was poison and was clouding her memories and she needed it out of her. She needed her friends to hear it. She needed a witness to it. She couldn’t feel emotions, but she could sure as fuck feel that.

Wanda had tears streaming down her face at the end. Even stone-cold Natasha had a mist that threatened to spill over. But Y/n’s eyes were dry, empty voids. As if it hadn’t happened to her and she was just explaining a fucked up dream she had. More like a nightmare.

The two redheads engulfed their friend in a hug.

“Thank you for telling us,” Wanda whispered into Y/n’s hair.

“We’ve got you. Whatever you need, we’re here,” Nat added.

“I think I just want to go lie down. Still pretty tired.”

“Want us to lie with you?” Wanda offered.

Y/n smiled at her friend’s sweetness. God she was lucky to have them.

“I’ll be alright, but thanks.”

“Yell if you need something, k?”

Y/n gave a final nod before closing the door to her room. She was out within seconds of hitting the pillow.

---------------------------------------------------

Natasha: Hey, Barnes. Got a favour to ask.

Bucky: Anything. Is it Y/n? Is she ok?

Natasha: she’s fine. Well, as fine as she can be. She’s asleep and Wanda and I both have to work tonight. I know this is super last minute, but...We don’t want her waking up alone.

Natasha: took her to the clinic this am. Then she told us what happened. It’s been a day.

Bucky: Right. When do you need me there?

Natasha: Wanda’s about to leave and my shift starts at 6. So in the next hour if you can.

Bucky: no prob. See you soon

---------------------------------------------------

“There’s leftover stew in the fridge. Wanda made it today. Help yourself.”

Bucky had shown up just thirty minutes later and Natasha knew that wasn’t enough time for him to have eaten dinner.

“Thanks, Nat. That’s great.”

Nat paused for a second, then took a deep breath.

“I’m worried she’s on the verge of breaking down. She was totally numb today, but that won’t last. Best case scenario she just sleeps through the night… god knows she needs it. But—” Nat took another breath, “in case she doesn’t, just… be patient. It’s just so fucked.”

“I know. I mean, I don’t, but I saw her. The ties… Fuck. I can only imagine.”

Nat went in for a quick hug.

“You’re one of the good ones, Barnes.”

“Not sure if any man can really be good at this point, but might as well try.”

Nat chuckled before continuing, “Both Wanda and I are closing so we’ll be home super late. Feel free to sleep in my room, it’s the one next to Y/n’s and I’ll sleep on the futon out here.”

“You sure?”

“Completely. I know Y/n trusts you, which means so do Wanda and I. Thanks for doing this.”

“It’s really nothing,” Bucky blushed as he looked down at his hands.

“See ya later,” she chimed, grinning at his bashfulness as she closed the door.

Bucky ate then sat down to catch up on some reading for one of his lit classes that he and Y/n had together. He had fallen asleep with his book on his chest when he was jolted awake by someone screaming. It took just a few seconds to realize it was Y/n.

He rushed to her door, opening it swiftly, then kneeled down in the middle of the room so as not to startle her. She had soft white lights strung up around her bed and that was enough light for him try and wake her out of the nightmare she was having.

Lips. She was being smothered in lips and she couldn’t get away. Saliva was dripping down her cheeks and hot breath was suffocating her.

And yet she couldn’t move.

Then fingers. Fingers all over her body. Still she couldn’t move. She was terrified to open her mouth in case the lips made contact. But she needed to yell. She had to. It went on for an eternity. Lips, saliva, fingers in an endless darkness.

Then finally a wail escaped from her.

The lips pressed harder. She kept screaming but no one could hear.

Suddenly she was out of the room and racing down the longest hallway. Door after door after door that led nowhere.

She couldn’t find Nat or Wanda. Where were they? Why couldn’t she find them?

Finally a door opened and there they were with Steve and Bucky and Sam. It was a library but maybe it was a living room. They were all laughing. In hysterics. She was screaming at them to help her. Trying to tell them what happened. Begging them to help her.

She could sense the two men behind her coming back for more.

They kept laughing.

Suddenly she knew it was Quentin and Brock that grabbed her from behind and she yelled until her throat was hoarse as they dragged her down the hall. Her screams weren’t loud enough to drown out the laughter that echoed from the room.

Or Quentin softly whispering her name.

“Y/n. Y/n—”

“Y/n please, you have to wake up—”

She sat up with a jolt, chest heaving. She gasped when she turned and saw a man on her carpet, another scream leaving her lips as she backed herself against the wall, covering her face with her arms.

“Y/n, it’s Bucky. I’m not going to hurt you, doll,” he assured as he held up his hands in a motion of peace, before continuing with a soft but steady voice. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Nat and Wanda had to work and they didn’t want you to wake up alone so they asked me to come over. You were having a nightmare and I didn’t want you to… god, Y/n, I’m so sorry for scaring you.”

Her breaths were ragged but she lowered her arms at his voice.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, just me.”

“Oh my god… I thought you were… f-fuck,” she exhaled, curling onto her side in fetal position, her breaths picking up again. He wasn’t Quentin. He wasn’t Brock. Wait.

Brock.

Quentin.

Suddenly she was gasping for air.

“Y/n you have to breathe for me. Please, breathe for me. You’re in your room. It’s Saturday. One more week until reading week and thanksgiving. You going home for thanksgiving?”

Y/n shook her head, her breaths still shallow, wheezing.

“Neither am I. Maybe we can do a friendsgiving thing. Like an orphan thanksgiving.”

“Th-that’d be..” breath “n-nice,” breath.

“Good. That’s good. You’re doing so good, doll. Keep breathing with me.”

They stayed like that a good ten minutes, Bucky kneeling next to Y/n’s bed trying to ground her in the present, Y/n trying to steady her panicked breathing at the nightmare-induced realization.

After a quiet lull, Y/n broke the silence as she whispered, “I remember.”

Bucky nodded in encouragement. “Want to share with me? I promise I’ll just listen.”

Y/n nodded.

“Want me to hold your hand?”

She nodded again, so Bucky grabbed it firmly but with a tenderness that nearly made Y/n lose her breath again.

“It was Quentin and Brock. I know it was.” She gulped before continuing. “I put down my drink to text Nat and Wanda. When I looked up they were there and when I grabbed my drink to leave them Quentin said “I’m sure we’ll see you around.” One of the guys, the one who was kissing and touching me—”

Y/n squeezed her eyes shut at the memory as Bucky squeezed her hand.

“Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere. And we can stop if you want. You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.”

“No, I—” Y/n kept steadying her breaths. “He… while he was… he said “I told you we’d see you around.” And it was his voice. I know it was his fucking voice. I went to school with him, I’d recognize his disgusting voice anywhere.” Her chest was heaving again. “It was Quentin,” she barely whispered.

Then the tears came. First silent, shoulders bobbing. Then wailing moans, as if she was a banshee predicting a death. Her own death. Y/n felt like she was sinking into darkness and there was no rope to grab onto. Nothing to tether her to the living world.

Until she felt her hand be squeezed.

“I’ve got you, Y/n. I’m here. No one is going to hurt you. Not ever again. I promise.”

“Y-you can’t promise that!” she seethed, sobs still racking her body.

“If it means I never leave you alone again, then so be it. Nat, Wanda, and I will never leave you alone ever. We’ll be your 24-7 personal detail.”

Y/n laughed at the ridiculousness of that thought through her tears. She sniffled hard, then wiped her face with her sleeve.

“I’m such a fucking mess. Again. God, this is horrible, you shouldn’t have to do this. We barely know each other!”

Bucky laughed softly before presenting his defense. “First off, we’ve had classes together for four years, and we’ve been seat buddies for the last three of those, so I’d say we know each other.”

And maybe Bucky had had a crush on her for two of those years, but she didn’t need to know that and he certainly wasn’t going to act on it ever now. Not after the shit she’d been through.

“Secondly, you have nothing to be embarrassed about. None of this is your fault.”

Y/n huffed at at his persistence, not convinced she shouldn’t be utterly embarrassed that he’d saved her twice now.

“I mean it. None of this is your fucking fault. You hear me?”

She rolled his words around in her mind for a minute, then nodded again. When did she get so goddamn agreeable?

“Now here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to go shower because a hot shower always makes anyone feel a million times better. While you do that, I’m going to make you some tea. Then you’re going to drink said tea. Then we’re going to go to bed and I do mean “we” because I’m going to sleep on your floor. I promised nothing would happen to you and I fucking mean it.”

A smile flooded Y/n’s lips, the heat from the tears on her cheeks blending with the heat from Bucky’s words.

“A little bossy, aren’t you?”

“Can’t help it, I’m used to bossing the swim team around. Like herding cats, those guys.”

Y/n chuckled then slid her legs over the edge of her bed. “Alright. One foot in front of the other, right?”

“That’s it,” Bucky replied with fondness.

When Nat came home and noticed Bucky wasn’t on the futon or in her room, her heart started pounding. Until she opened the door to Y/n’s room and saw him laying on her floor, his arm stretched up to her bed, holding her hand, as the two slept soundly.

Next Chapter

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painsandconfusion · 3 years

Text

With You Masterpost

Alllllllllll the Ida and Oren things!

Premise: Ida managed to escape Oren years ago, but you can't outrun love for long. We are going full-on yandere for this boy. Very whiplash, much scare, yes pain. All the conflicting feelings and reconditioning in this one.

Click here for most recent update of the list (in case you’re looking at an rb or something).

Please check individual trigger warnings at the beginning of each chapter (constants are non/dub con kiss and domestic abuse).

MAIN STORY:

Part 1: Rumors of My Death Have Been Greatly Exaggerated Nameless (whumptober piece that started it all), but Ida is enjoying their newfound life in recovery when Oren finds them again.

Part 2: Home Oren brings Ida back home. Let's pretend its a good experience.

Part 3: My Name Oren isn't super thrilled Ida forgot about him so long. He thinks of an appropriate punishment to make sure they never forget him again.

Part 4: Something True Pain tolerance? Never heard of her. Let's build our own via branding. Why are you looking at me like that? It builds character.

Part 5: Aftercare With Oren Yandere who? Torturer what? No. You're crazy. Only soft bois here. You just need some sleep. You'll feel better in the morning.

Part 6: Waking Oren is just really happy to be waking up to Ida. Nothing creepy at all going on here. He's got to clear his schedule to get some new locks today though. Not that he needs them, but...just in case.

Part 7: Sense Oren leaves Ida alone so he can go shopping. Ida...should not be left alone right now.

Part 8: Dust to Dust Ida cleans a lot. Ida cries. Also a lot.

Part 9: Unforgettable Should this be in the prequel chapters list? Maybe. But I'm not putting it there. This is how Ida and Oren met. Much angst, such wow.

Part 10: Tomorrow Ida is tired. Just let them rest, don't judge them for falling into conditioning.

Part 11: Penelope All the false metaphors and dubcon comfort here. Ida's dissociated from the panic attack, and drifting through thoughts and life, just listening to Oren read.

Part 12: Back to Basics Ida is still a little dissociated. It's easy to fall back into old habits when you're this tired.

Part 13: Piano Man Someone new comes to the house. Is Ida brave enough to beg for help, or will they be a good little dove and stay quiet-?

Part 14: Back To Your Roots Oren doesn't like Ida's hair. Oren fixes that. Of course it's traumatic, this is a whump blog.

PREQUEL CHAPTERS:

Part A: You Always Win

Oren and Ida flirt and are a generally cute couple in every way you can imagine. Except...you know...for the pretty much everything.

Ida ref sheet by @meowsikbox!

Shittily drawn visual of Oren's house

(tags: @prisonerwhump @whumpawink @mabledonut @heathenwhump @jadeocean46910 @paleassprince @distinctlywhumpthing @kesskirata @tropes-for-my-md-daydreams @wormwriting @batfacedliar-yetagain @paranoiaxagent @siren-of-agony @yells-in-lowercase @thecitythatdoesntsleep @whumpworld @bandages-andobsessions @pinkieglitterheart @whumpasaurus101 @shameless-dumbass @darlingwhump @whumpy-catfish @hold-back-on-the-comfort)

As always, just lmk if you want to be added or removed from any tag lists!

#With You #Ida and Oren #Masterpost #Ida and Oren Masterpost #my writing #yandere whumper #domestic abuse #whump series #ill add the previous and next links to individual posts after finals dont come at me

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whumpdoyoumean · 3 years

Text

Whumptober #5

This one originated as a sort of fix-it fic thing back in the day but never got finished so here it is in a lil whumpy one-shot!

xxx i’ve got red in my ledger

Buck has barely been asleep thirty minutes when his phone buzzes against his nightstand, startling him awake. He ignores it at first, hoping it’ll stop and he can fall back asleep. No such luck, though--the second it stops, it starts up again and he picks it up and frowns.

“Eddie?”

“Heyyy, Buck.”

Buck frowns deeper and props himself up on one elbow. “You sound weird. Are you drunk?”

Eddie responds with a muffled laugh. “Uuh, no. Not drunk.” He mumbles something Buck can’t quite hear about that easy then says, “Look. Can you…Uh. Can you come pick me up?”

“What’s going on?”

“I’ll tell you in person. Look, can you get me or not?”

“Yeah, okay,” Buck says, sitting up. “Where are you?”

“I’ll text you the address. Thanks, Buck.”

“Sure, Eddie.” He’s got a million questions, but he doesn’t get a chance to ask any of them because Eddie’s already hung up. A text comes in a second later with an address which, frustratingly, doesn’t actually shed any light on the situation. He gets dressed quickly, throwing on sweats and a hoodie and his slippers (he’s not in the mood for shoelaces), and hurries out into the chilly night.

Ten minutes later, he’s pulling onto a gravel lot behind a sketchy, secluded building wondering what the hell is happening. He spots Eddie immediately. He’s in a heated exchange with another man, looks angry, and the other man is yelling at him, waving his arms around. Buck has just turned the car off when it starts to get physical, the man shoving Eddie in the chest hard enough that he stumbles back.

“Shit,” Buck mutters, unbuckling hurriedly before scrambling out of his car. “Hey!” Eddie takes a blow to the jaw a second later and Buck starts running. “Hey!”

Both men are seeing red, past the point of words, and if he doesn’t stop them someone could get seriously hurt.

“Stop it!” He’s right next to them now, but neither seem to hear him. “I said stop it! That’s enough!”

He grabs the man’s shoulder, the one that’s not Eddie--and gets an elbow to the face. There’s a loud crunch and Buck stumbles backward, vision going black for a second as blood starts pouring from his nose.

“Shit!” he cries, and Eddie is at his side in an instant, the other man forgotten.

“Oh my god! Buck, are you alright? I’m so sorry, let me see.”

Buck’s eyes are watering like crazy (not to mention his nose hurts like a bitch) as he lowers his hands. The other man takes a step forward, and Eddie shakes his head.

“Back off,” he snarls, and the man obeys, backing away with his hands raised. He turns back to Buck. “Damn…” He grabs Buck’s shoulders and leans forward, making a face. “Definitely broken. Give me your keys, you’re not driving like this.”

“I’m fine,” Buck insists, words slightly muddled by the unrelenting cascade of blood.

“No way. Come on, head forward. Pinch--pinch your nose, there you go…”

Buck does as he says, letting out a pained groan as he pinches his nostrils shut in an attempt to stem the blood flow. He looks up as well as he can without lifting his head too much.”

“You gonna tell me what the hell is going on? What are we doing here? And-and who was that guy?”

Eddie doesn’t answer. He won’t look at Buck, fingers twitching nervously as he chews on his bottom lip.

Bucks sighs. “Eddie, c’mon. You can trust me. I-I know I messed up, big time with the-the lawsuit, and I am so, so sorry, Eddie I--”

“It’s not that, Buck,” Eddie interrupts, brow furrowed, mouth turned down in a frown. “Of course I trust you. I’m sorry if I let you think otherwise, just…” He takes a deep breath. “It’s embarrassing, okay?”

“Just tell me.”

“It’s uh...It’s a fighting ring. I beat that guy and he wasn’t too pleased, slashed my tires and I didn’t feel right calling an Uber here...”

Buck is stuck on the words fighting ring. “The bruises.”

Eddie nods. “Yeah.”

“What the fuck are you thinking?”

Eddie’s frown deepens. “Buck, I--”

“No! Listen to me, Eddie! You have a son, and he needs you right now more than ever. And he is not the only one. You could--you could get arrested, lose your job. You could get seriously hurt! And what would I--” Buck feels feat creep up his neck and ears. “What would Christopher do if that happened?”

Eddie hangs his head. “You’re right. You’re right! Of course you’re right, I...Never meant to hurt Christopher. Or you...How’s your nose?”

“Uh…” Buck releases the hold he has on his nostrils and blood pours out. “Oh, uh--god. Hasn’t slowed down much.” He looks up at Eddie. The man’s face is pale, eyes wide. “What?”

“The blood thinners,” Eddie breathes. “I-I shouldn’t have asked you here shit that was stupid I--”

“Eddie…”

“Look, I’ll call the babysitter and get you to the ER--”

“Eddie!” Buck cries. “Calm down, alright? I’m okay. If you take me to the ER Bobby will flip. Just--take me home. It’s just a nosebleed, even on the medication I’ll be fine. Can’t say the same for my hoodie...Or my car.” He cracks a smile. Eddie just looks wounded. Guilty.

“I’m so sorry, Buck. I don’t feel right leaving you alone, why don’t you come to my place. We’ll make sure the bleeding stops and you can drive home, or...Well you’re more than welcome to crash on my couch. I can set that in the morning when the swelling’s gone down some.”

Buck studies his face for a moment, sees the concern there and the sincerity. It makes his heart flutter.

He’s missed this.

“Yeah, okay.”

xxx end

#buck #whumptober2021 #no.5 #i've got red in my ledger #broken nose #911 #911 fox #fic #whumptober #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #my writing #my fic

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