#we officially done with the whump
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Whumptober 2022
Welcome to Whumptober 2022, in its fifth year of running!
To those of you who participated last year, welcome back! To everyone new, WELCOME!
Please make sure to read the Event Info carefully, as most of your questions will be answered there already. For everything else, you are welcome to come to our ask box or ask questions in our Discord server here.
This year’s AO3 Collection can be found here.
With that being said, we’re very excited to see the community come together once more and be a wild, chaotic bunch of creators and consumers of whump. Go wild with the prompts, and support your fellow creators, see what juicy whump they’ve created too! We wish you all the fun!
(All 31 Themes + Prompts, Event Information and FAQs are posted below the cut!)
Whumptober 2022 Prompt List
No. 1 A LITTLE OUT OF THE ORDINARY
Adverse Effects | Unconventional Restraints | "This wasn't supposed to happen"
No. 2 NOWHERE TO RUN
Cornered | Caged | Confrontation
No. 3 A HAIR’S BREADTH FROM DEATH
Gun to Temple | “Say goodbye.” | Impaled
No. 4 DEAD ON YOUR FEET
Hidden Injury | Waking Up Disoriented | Can’t Pass Out
No. 5 EVERY WHUMPEE’S NEEDS
Blood Loss | Running Out of Air | Hyperthermia
No. 6 PROOF OF LIFE
Ransom Video | “I’ve got a pulse” | Screams from Across the Hall
No. 7 THE WAY YOU SHAKE AND SHIVER
Shaking Hands | Seizures | Silent Panic Attack
No. 8 EVERYTHING HURTS AND I’M DYING
Stomach Pain | Head Trauma | Back from the Dead
No. 9 THE VERY NOISY NIGHT
Sleeping in Shifts | Tossing and Turning | Caught in a Storm
No. 10 POOR UNFORTUNATE SOULS
Taser | Whipping | Waterboarding
No. 11 “911, WHAT’S YOUR EMERGENCY?”
Sloppy Bandages | Self-Done First Aid | Makeshift Splint
No. 12 WHAT COULD GO WRONG?
“Mayday, mayday!” | Cave In | Rusty Nail
No. 13 CAN’T MAKE AN OMELETTE WITHOUT BREAKING A FEW LEGS
Fracture | Dislocation | “Are you here to break me out?”
No. 14 DIE A HERO OR LIVE LONG ENOUGH TO BECOME A VILLAIN
Desperate Measures | Failed escape | “I’ll be right behind you.”
No. 15 EMOTIONAL DAMAGE
Lies | New Scars | Breathing through the Pain
No. 16 NO WAY OUT
Mind Control | Paralytic Drugs | “No one’s coming.”
No. 17 HANGING BY A THREAT
Breaking Point | Stress Positions | Reluctant Caretaker
No. 18 LET’S BREAK THE ICE
"Just get it over with." | Treading Water | "Take my Coat"
No. 19 ENOUGH IS ENOUGH
Knees Buckling | Repeatedly Passing Out | Head Lolling
No. 20 IT’S BEEN A LONG DAY
Going into Shock | Fetal Position | Prisoner Trade
No. 21 FAMOUS LAST WORDS
Coughing up Blood | “You’re safe now.” | “Take me instead.”
No. 22 PICK YOUR POISON
Toxic | Withdrawal | Allergic Reaction
No. 23 AT THE END OF THEIR ROPE
Forced to Kneel | Tied to a Table | “Hold them down.”
No. 24 FIGHT, FLIGHT OR FREEZE
Blood Covered Hands | Catatonic | “I don’t want to do this anymore.”
No. 25 SILENCE IS GOLDEN
Lost Voice | Duct Tape | “You better start talking.”
No. 26 NO ONE LEFT BEHIND
Separated | Rope Burns | “Why did you save me?”
No. 27 PUSHED TO THE LIMIT
Muffled Screams | Stumbling | Magical Exhaustion
No. 28 IT'S JUST THE TIP OF THE ICEBERG
Anger Born of Worry | Punching the Wall | Headache
No. 29 WHAT DOESN'T KILL ME…
Sleep Deprivation | Defiance | “Better me than you.”
No. 30 NOTE TO SELF: DON'T GET KIDNAPPED
Manhandled | Hair Grabbing | “Please don’t touch me.”
Alternative Prompts List
No. 31 A LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL
Comfort | Bedside Vigil | “You can rest now.”
Ringing Ears
Whimpering
Dazed and Confused
Touch Starved
Ambushed
Sensory Overload
Protective
Made to Watch
Quicksand
Adrenaline Crash
Stabbed
Carried to Safety
Crutches
Emergency Blanket
Tears
Event Info & Rules
~ Please read our extensive event info posts before sending us an ask - A link can be found at the end of this post. ~
WHUMPTOBER is a month-long, prompt-based creation challenge (think: Inktober, but whumpier). There are 31 official themes this year - one for each day of the month - which can be used, skipped, or combined in any way you’d like. They are meant to serve as inspiration without being taken literally (e.g. you don’t have to include the exact wording of prompts into your work). Feel free to run rampant on interpretation. For example, if the prompt is “bee”, you can create something about bees, about yellow and black striped baseball bats or bees on bandaids. It’s up to you.
Additionally, there are 3 prompts for each theme. These are optional suggestions and can be used in conjunction with the theme, or as options/alternatives. We want to give everyone as much creative freedom as possible, as well as increase event accessibility for folks with triggers and squicks.
Creators can PRODUCE work in any media they choose, including but not limited to: writing, visual artwork, photo/video/audio edits, paper crafts and elaborate recommendation lists (not just a list of links). Creators can PARTICIPATE as much or as little as they want (i.e. you don’t have to do ALL the prompts if you don’t want to) and prompts can be used in any order. They are also free to use even after the event ends.
When uploading Whumptober content to your blog, be sure to tag the with:
#whumptober2022 …..(the event tag)
#no.1, #no.2, #no.3, …..(theme number)
#bruises, #stabbing, …..(the theme or specific prompt you chose)
#fandom or #OC, … (ironman, originalcontent, oc …)
#medium …..(gifs, fic, podcast, art, etc.)
#teeth, #etc …..(trigger warnings & any additional tags. Keep in mind not to add “tw” in front but only use the word/trigger itself, because tumblr sucks)
#nsfwhump …..(only for nsfw content)
#your own tags go here
PLEASE BE DILIGENT WITH YOUR TAGGING. Only properly tagged posts are considered for archiving on the official @whumptober-archive blog. They must be tagged in the order above. An elaborate post about our tagging system can be found [here]
Unfortunately, due to the sheer number of participants in recent years, we cannot guarantee your work will be archived. A random selection of properly tagged posts from all genres will be reblogged each day.
Whumpers who produce content for 31 total theme days are considered event completionists and will be tagged in a masterpost at the end of the month. A form will be published at the beginning of November asking you to tell us, if you completed. This is based on trust and we will not check this.
Questions not addressed in one of our many event info posts can be directed to this blog. We will not answer any questions that have been answered in the FAQs or rules already.
Frequently Asked Questions
Q. Is [specific anything] allowed?
When in doubt: JUST DO IT!
Q. Do I have to do all 31 days?
Participate as much or little as you like! Just be sure to tag your posts properly (ex. #no.14, #underpressure). If you post works for 31 total theme days you will become a completionist. But apart from that, there are no repercussions if you don’t fill prompts for each day.
Q. Can I post early/late?
Yes, you can post whenever you want. We will only reblog posts during October, but you can use our prompts all year round. The day you post will only affect your probability of being reblogged.
Q. Will you reblog my post?
Due to the sheer number of content posted during Whumptober we can’t promise to reblog every single post. We will make a random selection trying to capture a wide variety of content. The following will increase your chances at being reblogged:
tag your post properly
post within 2-3 days of the theme you want to fill: if you fill the prompt for Day 1 your chances of being reblogged during October 1st to 3rd are highest and will go towards zero afterwards.
Q. What if I don’t understand a theme?
Send us an ask! We’re happy to help with wild, unhelpful clarifications or brainstorming. That being said, the themes are entirely up for interpretation :) Don’t take them too literally. For example: You can be choking on a cherry, someone else can choke you or you could be choked up on emotions, etc.
Q. What kind of content can I make? Can it be NSFW?
This is a MIXED MEDIA event! You can write fic, post meta, doodle or paint, create a gifset or photo edit, link a song, or get crafty with video - anything goes. As for NSFW, make what you like, we just hope that you’ll tag your work accordingly so that others participating in the event can stay safe :)
Q. Can I combine Whumptober with other creation challenges?
Absolutely! That’s like shooting two whumpees with one bullet :)
Q. Can I upload/repost my Whumptober content to other social media platforms?
Of course! You can post your own content wherever you like (or you can opt to not publish it at all). Additionally we’ve created an AO3 Collection to archive any fics posted there. It can be accessed here. The tumblr blog @whumptober-archive is the official archive, so please respect the boundaries of any closeted whumpers in your social circle :)
Q. Can I use prompts to write a new chapter for an existing fic?
Yes.
Q. An existing fic I am currently writing contains many of the Whumptober prompts, can I use it?
If you are actively writing this fic at the moment with the Whumptober prompts in mind, yes. If it just conveniently checks the boxes, then please don’t. You can, however, add new chapters using one or more of the prompts.
Q. What kind of characters can I write for?
Fandom characters, OC characters, human, furry, alien, cyborg, whoever you like to whump.
Q. Can I use a prompt multiple times?
Yes, but it only counts once
Q. If I’m not comfortable with one day’s prompts can I use a prompt of a different day as a substitute and still be a completionist?
No, you can’t exchange prompts for different days. However, if all four prompts of a specific day make you uncomfortable, we have created an alternate prompts list that you can draw from. You can exchange any prompt with these, but please make sure not to use them twice.
Q. Where can I post my work?
Post where and how you want. You don’t have to (cross)post it to Tumblr or at all. Just keep in mind if it’s not on Tumblr we will not be able to add it to the blog archive.
Q. Can I start posting early?
You can, but this is an October event and wouldn’t it be more fun with everyone doing it at the same time? That being said, you can post early, but we won’t be reblogging any work predating October 1st.
Q. Do I have to finish a fic I started/can I post WIP’s?
Yes you can post WIPs. And you’re not obligated to finish it in October for it to count towards being a completionist.
Q. Is co-writing allowed?
Yes, absolutely, and it would count towards being a completionist for both/all of you :)
Q. Do I have to create 31 standalone pieces to be considered a completionist or can I write one continuous story?
One continuous story is fine. The challenge is to write something for 31 prompts. If that’s spread over 31 fics or just one, you are still considered a completionist. (The same goes for every other media you choose.)
Q. Is there a min/max limit on word count?
There is no limit.
Q. Can I combine prompts? Is there a limit on how many?
No limit and combine as many as you’d like.
Q. Is a hc/angst focus ok?
Of course!
Q. What’s considered nsfw?
See this post
Q. What is whump?
See this post
Q. My interpretation of the prompt isn’t whumpy at all, does that count?
No, sorry, but keep in mind that whump [see definition] is something very nuanced and different for everyone and emotional whump/angst is just as much part of it, as is physical whump and torture. So before you dismiss your idea, think about this.
Q. Can I start working on the prompts before October?
Absolutely! That’s why we posted the prompts a month in advance. We recognise how difficult it can be creating for 31 days in “real time” so feel free to start writing early!
Q. How do I tag triggers?
Just tag the word, ex. emeto
Q. Do I have to use your tags?
If you want your work archived on the blog, then yes. If not, feel free to use whatever tags you want.
Q. Does combining prompts count towards completion?
Yes
Q. Can we @ you?
Yes but we mostly rely on the #whumptober2022 tag
Q. Is there anything we are absolutely not allowed to write?
There are no rules, but please make sure to properly tag your trigger warnings. And keep in mind Tumblr’s policies if you are posting it here (or the policies for whatever site you use).
Q. Where can I go for brainstorming help?
Here on Discord or come into our ask box :)
Q. My characters are minors, is that ok?
Yes, but as with everything else, tags are your best friend.
Q. Can I cross post on other blogs?
Yes, multiple platforms and blogs are perfectly acceptable. You can also post different works to different accounts under different names, without posting them everywhere at once.
Note: This is a creation challenge, please don’t repost your old work under our tags (unless it’s been changed or edited for the event).
Thanks for reading, and happy whumping!
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Masterpost
My Published Books:
A Field Guide to Mermaids (2022, Macmillan Kids, Middle-grade illustrated science-fantasy)
"An indispensable, encyclopedic resource for nature quests—mythological or otherwise." - Kirkus Starred Review
The Outlaw Road duology (Harper Collins, Epic fantasy)
"This is epic fantasy done right." -Publishers Weekly Starred Review
Sunshield (2020)
Floodpath (2021)
The Creatures of Light trilogy (Harper Collins, Epic fantasy)
Woodwalker (2016)
Ashes to Fire (2017)
Creatures of Light (2018)
Official Portfolio
Redbubble Shop (Lord of the Rings merch)
INPRNT Shop (portfolio prints)
Fanworks:
Boromir Lives AU Illustrated Anthology:
Boromir Lives: Helm's Deep
Boromir Lives: Whump-Time After Pelennor
Boromir Lives: GO TO SLEEP
Boromir Lives: Aragorn's Coronation
Boromir Lives: Faramir and Eowyn's Wedding
Boromir Lives: Panic! At the Ballroom
Boromir Lives: It's a BABY
Boromir Lives: High Uncle of the White Tower
Boromir Lives: We Didn't Have a Choice
Boromir Lives: The Haircuts
Other Lord of the Rings comics/illustrations
The Raccoon Saga
Boromir and Faramir Swimming the Anduin
Boromir on Caradhras
Ladies of Gondor and Rohan
Legolas Ten-Year Redraw
The Three Hunters Solve a Mystery
This Stupid One that Always Makes the Rounds
Queen's Thief Illustrations (This is by no means complete; these are just some of the ones I spent the most time on.)
Official Character Lineup
The Symbolism Illustration
At the Window
QT Appreciation Week Watercolor
The Fate of All Thieves
That One Scene
Don't Lower the Point in Third!
Rooftop
Park Ranger Stuff:
Tips for Applying for NPS Jobs
#emily b martin#a field guide to mermaids#the outlaw road duology#sunshield#floodpath#creatures of light#woodwalker#ashes to fire#lord of the rings#boromir#legolas#queens thief#eugenides#park ranger#national parks
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so grian and Ren is another pair that knew each other once upon a time
and another reunion set to happen in the northern passage, since treebark is headed there as well
(I would use the platonic duo name of renchant but I think we all know what's going on there)
also quick question but maybe I've just not noticed; have we met mumbo yet in ttsbc?
Once upon a time, yes! More reunions!!!
Yeah I think we all know what's up with Ren and Martyn by this point 😳
Mumbo in TTSBC! Yes, we have heard about him a couple of times even if we haven't officially 'met' him yet! Specifically he is mentioned in "Butterfly Fall" and "Bestest Friends" so you can go see if you can spot him in there, if you'd like! But we are going to meet him for real at some point, I have plans for that! Once Febuwhump is done, because of course TT is getting a lot of attention during a whump collection challenge 😆 I'm going to head back to TTSBC in a big way, so please look forward to it!
#fanfic#ao3 fanfic#through the sky blue cracks#traveling thieves au#worldbuilding#grian#rendog#mumbo jumbo#treebark
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my unhinged rant about the whumptober discourse, below the readmore for the benefit of ppl who dont wanna see that crap. im just gonna go insane if i don't say this somewhere bc i feel like i'm losing my mind
this drama is genuinely so mind-blowingly stupid it's unreal, and it's been bothering me so much that i just HAVE to talk about it or i'm gonna go insane, if for no other reason than to get it out of my system. i honestly never expected the whump community to go on the kind of bad-faith tirade that's taking place.
disclaimer right here that i do not support AI scraping creative works without permission (like chatgpt and a whole host of AI art programs do) or these AI-generated works being passed off as legitimate creative works. obviously that stuff is bad, and literally everyone on all sides of this agrees it's bad. i used chatgpt exactly once one week after it came out, before i knew how shit it was, and haven't touched AI stuff since. because it steals from creators and it sucks.
now:
saying "whumptober supports/allows AI" when their official policy says plain as day:
"we are not changing our stance from last year’s decision"
"we will not amplify or include AI works in our reblogs of the event."
"we discourage the use of AI within Whumptober, it feels like cheating, and we feel like it isn’t in the spirit of the event."
is bonkers! whumptober is a prompt list, there is nothing TO the event other than being included in the reblogs. they literally cannot stop people from doing whatever they want with the prompts.
someone could go out and enact every single prompt in real life on a creativity-fueled serial killing spree and the whumptober mods couldn't do shit about it. it's not like it's a contest you submit to. it's a prompt list! someone could take every single prompt from the AI-less whumptober prompt list, feed it into chatgpt right now, and post them as entries. and the mods of THAT wouldn't be able to stop them either. because it's a prompt list.
the AI-less event have also made just... blatantly false claims, like that grammarly isn't AI. grammarly IS AI and they openly advertise this. hell, this is grammarly's front page right now:
and this is a statement from grammarly about how its products work:
its spellchecker / grammarchecker is AI-based! claiming it's not AI is just... lying. saying "this is an AI-less event" and then just saying any AI that you want to include doesn't count as AI is ludicrous.
and you know what? whumptober actually pointed this out. they said they don't want to ban AI-based assistive tools (like grammarly) for accessibility reasons. this post has several great points:
"AI is used for the predictive text and spellchecker that's running while I type this reply."
"Accessibility tools rely on AI." this is true and here's an article about it, though the article is a little too pro-AI in general for my tastes, there's nuances to this stuff. it's used for captioning, translation, image identification, and more. not usually the same kind of AI that's used for stuff like chatgpt. THERE ARE DIFFERENT KINDS!
"But we can't stop that, nor can we undo damage already done, and banning AI use (especially since we can't enforce it) is an empty stand on a hill that's already burning, at least in our view of things."
and people were UP IN ARMS over this post! their notes were full of hate, even though it's all true! just straight lying and saying that predictive text isn't AI (it is), that AI isn't used for accessibility tools (it is), that whumptober can somehow enforce an anti-AI policy (they can't because it's a prompt list).
in effect, both whumptobers have the EXACT SAME AI POLICY. neither allows AI-generated works, but both allow AI-based assistive tools like grammarly. everyone involved here is ON THE SAME SIDE, they all have the exact same opinion on how AI should be applied to events like this, and somehow they're arguing???
not to mention that no other whump event has ever had an AI policy. febuwhump, WIJ, bad things happen bingo, hell even nanowrimo doesn't have one.
and you wanna know the most ridiculous part of this entire thing? which is also the reason why none of the above events have an AI policy.
no one is doing this. no one is out there feeding whumptober prompts to chatgpt and posting them as fills for whumptober cred. it's literally a hypothetical, made-up issue. all of this infighting over a problem that DOESN'T EXIST.
to the point that people are brigading the whumptober server with shit like this:
saying "everyone who participates in whumptober is a traitor, you should go participate in this other event with the exact same AI policy but more moral grandstanding about it" is silly. every single bit of this drama is silly.
in the end, please just be nice to people. we're ALL against the kind of AI that steals from creators. the whumptober mods are against AI, the AILWT mods are against AI, whumptober participants are against AI, AILWT participants are against AI. there is no mythical person out here trying to pass chatgpt work off as whumpfic. let's all just be civil with each other over this, yeah?
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TECH WEEK 🎭
we are officially one week out from whump: the musical!!! yippee!! how exciting!! i hope you all have had so much fun creating so far and continue to do so!! i am very excited to see all the work you guys have done!! speaking of: let's do a little bit of last minute house-keeping, or as i like to call it— tech week!
so drumroll pls... here's our ao3 collection!!!
very excited to see all of you utilize that. now, for those who do not use ao3 or choose to post on tumblr, lets go over the tagging system. to be reblogged onto this blog, you will need to tag this blog while also using the event tag.
event tag: whump: the musical
that tag is the only required one. however! to keep things neat and tidy, i will ask for you to put the day number and the prompt you use somewhere in the posts intro or tags!! you'll have a better chance at being reblogged if you do! also it is mandatory to properly trigger your content! as I said before, there are some sensitive prompts and we don't want anyone being in danger while consuming the content in this event! all forms of media will be accepted and has a chance of being reblogged, but i will request that no ai is used. although, there's nothing i can do to stop it, i feel like that ruins the fun of creating!
as for the completionists! it is a very daunting task to complete all of these fics, and if you do so, it's something that should be appreciated! near the end of the month of march i will put out a google form where you can submit your user if you have finished all the prompts so i can compile a list.
as your director, i am so excited for our premiere. break a leg, ingénues!
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Dadrius Week 2023 Day 7: Safe
Darius didn’t stop flying even as the clinic doors approached at frightening speeds, he just sent an abomination ahead to hold the door open so that he could soar right through, finally skidding to a halt at the nurses’ desk.
“Help him,” he ordered.
The nurse jumped up, yelling back for assistance. “Cause of wounds?” he asked briskly, taking Hunter’s pulse.
“What?”
“What hurt him? We need to know in case it was something poisonous—”
“No. An Oracle spirit.”
“Okay. Understood.” The nurse pushed him towards a gurney that two healers had brought from further back in the clinic. “Thank you. We’ll take it from here.”
Darius trailed after the cart, but the nurse held up a hand, blocking him from following them further. “What’s your relation to the patient?”
“He lives with me.”
“I see. And are you his parent, legal guardian, or family member?”
“Not officially, but—”
“Then you cannot go with him past this point. Family only.”
“I—” Darius sputtered, gesturing to the doors. “I’m responsible for him. I brought him in, I take care of him, I—”
“If you’re not his legal guardian, then I cannot let you through,” the nurse said gently, “Please wait out here. If there are no complications, he will be able to come to you shortly.”
“Complications?” Darius echoed, his heart thumping wildly in his chest, “What complications?”
“Hopefully, none.” The nurse put a hand on his shoulder. “Please. Wait out in the lobby, sir.”
Darius paced the small space like a trapped slitherbeast, earning him nervous looks from a Hexside teen with a broken arm and a mother whose child had a potion bottle cork stuck up his nose. Ava hopped along next to him, bobbling her head.
“Complication?” Darius muttered, “What complications could there possibly be? It’s a clawing! He’s probably shrugged off a mauling before!”
Somehow, thinking about Hunter getting mauled in the past did not make him feel better.
“Sit,” Ava ordered, “Scaring people.”
“That’s probably the blood,” Darius told her. His legs wobbled, and he sat down in a chair with a whump, staring at the bloodstains on his white gloves. “Titan.” He turned Hunter’s belt over and over in his hands. He’d stemmed the bleeding. He’d gotten Hunter to a clinic. He’d done everything he could—it was out of his hands.
Well. Not everything you could, a little voice whispered in the back of his head.
Why didn’t you protect him?
“Why would he do that?” Darius demanded, looking to Ava as if she could answer that, “Idiot! Jumping right in the way like that?! I could have taken it.”
You’re supposed to protect him from injury, remember? He scolded himself, What a fine job you’ve done these past couple of days.
Ava nudged the belt pouch, dislodging a crumpled piece of paper.
“What’s that?”
Darius smoothed out the paper. It might have been scrunched up, but a single, crisp fold along one edge told him it was supposed to be a card.
Happy Father’s Day, Darius.
Horrible, aching grief stabbed at Darius’ stomach, and he clutched the card tightly in his hands. Blood stained the white paper—Hunter’s blood, which, if he’d been paying more attention, wouldn’t be there.
Darius slowly opened the card, almost dreading reading more words. The inside bore even more red, nearly covering up the words.
Thank you for letting me live with you. –Hunter.
Ava nudged him with her head. “Okay?”
“No.” Darius put his head in his hands. Thanks for letting me live with you. It sounded so unemotional, nothing that he’d ever expect to see in a father’s day card, but coming from Hunter, it felt so painfully earnest. He could practically see the kid hunched over the card trying to think of the perfect message and eventually landing on a practical thank you.
A Father’s Day Card. No wonder Hunter had been so anxious about Father’s Day. And he’d… Darius groaned. He’d told Hunter not to worry about it and had lit off to see his own father, dragging Hunter along with him to go see his old family, rather than spending time with his new one. That had to have stung. If Hunter had been ready to take another step towards family, it must have felt like Darius was giving him a full push backwards. Even if it wasn’t what Darius had intended.
“I’m going to make this right,” Darius told Ava, “Once he’s come home, I’ll…”
Do what, exactly?
Did he even know how to start? With Ava, with Hunter—what was he supposed to do to gain their trust again?
A scream echoed from the back of the clinic, and Darius knew, from the way that it seemed to tear at his heart, that it was Hunter. He jumped up, storming towards the doors.
“What are they doing to hi—”
The same nurse from before barred his way. “I can’t let you—”
“Move.”
The nurse, to the credit of either his bravery or his stupidity, did not step aside. “Sir, you can’t.”
Behind him, Darius caught a glimpse of Hunter, sitting straight up on the gurney, his eyes glowing purple. “What is going on?” he growled, seizing the nurse’s collar, “What are you doing to him?!”
“It’s… a complication. We’ll sort it out, please wait outs—”
“I’m done waiting.” Darius pushed the nurse to the side, marching through the door.
Hunter vehemently swatted a healer away as they attempted to take a look at his side—which had been uncovered so that they could work. Blood still dripped from the wounds, but Hunter, completely blank-eyed, didn’t show any signs of slowing down. Another healer approached, this one drawing a golden circle Darius knew to be a sleeping spell, but Hunter uncannily twisted to dodge the spell, leaping off the gurney to tackle the healer with a roar.
That’s not Hunter.
Darius couldn’t say how he knew—the glowing purple eyes would usually be a good indicator, but Darius had given up understanding the extent of what Hunter could do the first time he’d warped into the kitchen for breakfast—but he knew, deep in his gut, that there was something else there instead of Hunter.
The nurse grabbed his arm again. “It is dangerous, and you are not authorized, the only people who should be with him right now are—”
“What’s happening to him?!”
“Happens sometimes with oracle fights,” the nurse said in a small voice, “If the caster isn’t practicing proper restraint, a particularly malicious spirit can sometimes… slip into a wound and take control of the victim.”
Not again.
Not after the Collector, after Belos. This couldn’t happen to Hunter again, it couldn’t have happened when Darius was around—he’d always told himself if he’d just been there those other times… but he had been there this time, and he hadn’t been able to stop Hunter from having all control ripped away from him again.
Well what did you expect?
You never managed it in the coven, either.
“Let me go,” he growled.
“Sir—”
“He will tear your healers apart,” Darius said in a low voice, “This isn’t some silly fight, this is a strong oracle spirit in the body of one of the best warriors on this floating corpse. He will destroy your healers if you do not let me go.”
As if to emphasize Darius’ point, Hunter threw a flawless right hook that sent a healer careening into the wall. The nurse hesitated, looking at Hunter, then back to Darius.
“Please,” Darius begged, “He is going to die.”
The nurse released his arm, and Darius rushed down the hallway. He caught Hunter’s fist as the boy attempted to deliver an uppercut straight to his chin. The oracle spirit hissed at him, snarling and snapping, but Darius just gently turned Hunter around, holding him against his own body and gripping his wrists crossed against his chest so that he couldn’t lash out. Hunter might very well be one of the better fighters on the Isles, but Darius was much bigger and at least matched, if not surpassed, his skill in hand-to-hand combat. Hunter stomped at Darius’ feet, but he couldn’t get the force necessary to do any real damage. At least the spirit didn’t seem capable of using Hunter’s flash-step ability.
“Hunter,” Darius said urgently, “If you can hear me in there, I need you to fight back.” He nodded to the healers, who approached the two of them cautiously. “These healers are going to help you.”
The spirit used Darius’ grip to haul itself up, planting his feet in a healer’s chest and kicking them backwards. All the while snarling at Darius. The other healer eyed Hunter warily, and came at him from the side where he couldn’t kick as easily.
“I know you’re hurting right now, and I’m sure you just want to rest,” Darius continued, “I know—” his voice cracked. “I know you’re probably scared and confused. But I’m right here. I’m right here, and I swear that nothing bad will happen to you.” Nothing else, anyway.
Hunter slowly stopped kicking, his whole body trembling in Darius’ grip. The spirit still growled at him, but it sounded more strained, like it was struggling to keep awake.
“That’s it.” Darius didn’t know if it was really Hunter fighting back, or if the wounds were finally taking a toll on the spirit, but he had to believe Hunter could hear him. “You’re going to be alright, Hunter. You’re safe with me, I promise. I promise.”
The healer held one hand in front of Hunter’s face. Their fist sparked with flame, and smoke drifted out from between their fingers—sleeping nettles, if Darius had to guess. He held his breath, and the spirit slowly, slowly went limp in his arms. Darius gently swept him up in his arms, bringing him back to the gurney. The healers who’d been knocked over slowly got up, resuming their place, one of them holding a pendent much like Odalia’s. They drew a circle that was pinkish purple with another outside circle around it that glowed blue.
Wild witch, Darius noted on instinct, before shaking his head. That wasn’t really relevant anymore. In fact, it was definitely a benefit now.
The stone in the healer’s hand glowed. Hunter coughed, twitching and seizing up. Darius found Hunter’s hand, giving it a tight squeeze.
“You’ll be okay,” he promised, “You’re going to be alright.”
You have to be.
Hunter’s eyes flickered open and shut, alternating glowing and their normal brown. Instead of a angry hiss, a strained whine came from his throat, a whine that cut off in another cough and a whimper.
And his hand squeezed Darius’ back.
The healer with the stone shouted something that Darius didn’t quite catch, and the spirit pulled out of Hunter, lashing out with insubstantial claws to hold onto its control and tugging Hunter towards it. The healer tugged, and it let go, slithering back into the stone with a howl. Hunter thudded back to the gurney’s surface; the other healers immediately started their own work, holding glowing blue circles over Hunter’s side while pushing him to another room. Hunter’s hand slid out of Darius’, and Darius started to walk after them, his legs wobbling underneath him, but a gentle hand touched his arm. The nurse.
“Sir…”
“Please,” Darius whispered, “I almost lost him.”
The nurse gave him a long look, then sighed and let him go, walking back to the clinic lobby. Darius wandered through the hallway in a daze, trailing after Hunter.
If the nurse had been bigger…
If he’d thought to use magic to stop me…
If I’d been a moment later…
If, if, if…
Darius spotted a crow tree, and he picked two of them up, staring at the recipient pad.
Not Eber. He’s out with his ratworms.
Eda and Raine were busy building the new university. Who did that leave?
“Jasmin Deamonne,” he told the phones, throwing one into the air. It flew out of the window, and he waited anxiously, tapping the surface of the phone.
“Yyyyyyyyyyyyello?” Jasmin’s voice finally said.
“Hi. Jasmin. It’s me. Darius.”
She gasped so loudly he almost dropped the phone. “Darius? When did you learn how to use a phone?! Was it recently?”
“Jasmin,” he said quietly. His throat closed up, and he struggled to find words. “It’s Hunter.”
“Oh.” Jasmin’s voice immediately dropped all the teasing pretense. “Is he alright?”
An overwhelming wave of numbness swept over Darius, and he leaned against the wall for support. “No,” he whispered.
“Are you two safe?”
“Yes. We’re at the Bonesborough clinic.”
Jasmin didn’t say anything for a long moment, as if she were waiting for Darius to continue. Finally, she cleared her throat. “Do you… wanna talk about it?”
“What’s going on?” Darius’ father’s voice said in the background, “Did you say it’s Darius?”
“You’re still with Mom and Dad?”
“I forgot my bag last night. I came to pick it up. One second.” Jasmin’s voice came out muffled, like she was holding one hand over the microphone, but it didn’t stop her voice from coming over entirely. “Yeah, it’s Darius. Something’s happened to Hunter—here, you talk to him.”
Scuffling noises, then, “Darius?” his father said gently, “Are you alright?”
“I’m unharmed.” Darius slid down the wall, putting his hand to his head. “Thanks to Hunter.”
“Okay. But are you alright?”
“Hm.” Darius chuckled breathlessly. “I don’t think so. Hunter’s hurt badly. I let him get hurt, I—”
“Darius. You cannot prevent every injury. And you have to accept that sometimes… your kid is going to do something outside of your control.”
“I should have prevented this one,” Darius insisted, “If I’d just been paying attention—he was injured saving my life, Dad, I—” Darius groaned. “I’m supposed to be looking out for him. But the last couple of days, I’ve done nothing but fail him.”
“Do you remember your mentor?”
What kind of question was that? “Of course I remember him.”
Darius’ father sighed. “I didn’t want you to go through with the mentorship, as you know. I thought it would get you hurt, or even killed. But the last golden guard came to our house personally one day. He sat down with me, and he told me that he would be honest. He told me that the career path you were headed towards was dangerous, and you might get hurt.”
“I’m sure you loved that.”
“He also told me he would do his utmost to protect you as long as you were in his care. He promised me that he would guard you as if you were the emperor himself. He said he might not always be able to stop you from getting hurt. He said that sometimes he might fail you. But he promised that despite any failures, he’d never stop trying. He reminded me that you were growing up, and I wouldn’t always be able to be there to protect you. And at some point, I had to let you go and trust that you could take care of yourself, and that there would be others to take care of you.”
“I just got Hunter.”
“And you want to protect him, I understand. From outside danger and from yourself. But you can’t stop every mishap, no matter how careful you are. You have to let go and just… see where the two of you land.”
Darius took a deep breath.
He wanted to keep Hunter safe. But Hunter obviously felt the same way about him, or else he wouldn’t have jumped in the way. Not that that made him feel particularly better, but he knew that if their roles had been reversed and he’d gotten hurt, he wouldn’t want Hunter blaming himself.
It happened, and there’s nothing you can do to change that.
Let go
See where we land.
“Darius?” Jasmin’s voice asked again, “You need me to swing by the hospital so that you can take a second to eat?
“No.” Darius cleared his throat, pushing up to his feet. He wasn’t going to leave Hunter’s side for one more moment until he woke up. He’d promised he’d be right there, and he’d already taken too much time in this hallway. But there was another thing he needed to do at the same time, something that would mean more. “Jasmin, listen. This is very important. There’s something I need you to bring me.”
Xxx
The ceiling was white.
That was wrong. Hunter’s ceiling was currently painted dark blue and dotted with constellations (and the occasional explorer-class starship).
A thousand other details were wrong, too. The familiar weight of surrounding plushies was missing. The air smelled sterile, like cleaning potions. And unless Darius had decided to throw a small party while he was asleep, there were far too many noises outside for this to be his room.
Hunter blinked slowly, but the white ceiling did not disappear.
Something’s wrong.
He wasn’t in the right place.
His body wasn’t responding, and he recognized the sluggish feeling from sleeping nettles.
Odalia
She said she wanted a carver—
I’ve got to get out of here, I’ve got to—
What happened to Darius?! Did she get him, did she get Ava, did…
Hunter managed to turn his head slowly to one side, and almost all of the tension left him in an instant. There was Darius, sitting in a chair, one leg bouncing anxiously. He was staring at his hands, not Hunter, and Hunter watched him for a moment to reassure himself that he was there.
Not Odalia.
He wouldn’t let her take me.
Hunter blinked, trying to remember what had happened. He’d saved Darius. And he’d been hurt—he remembered trying to hold on to consciousness, but thinking, blearily, painfully, but with absolute certainty, that Darius would take care of it, and letting go.
And then…
“Is it gone?” he whispered hoarsely. Surely they wouldn’t let him be so free if not, but then again… maybe that was the reason Darius was here.
Darius jumped, fumbled, reached out, then pulled his hand back. “It’s gone,” he promised, “You’re alright.”
Hunter relaxed back into his pillows with a sigh. “Good.”
Darius hesitated, then pressed forward. “Are you alright? I mean, besides the…” he gestured helplessly at Hunter’s side.
“Um…” Hunter slowly reached up to rub his eyes. “I’m… I don’t know. Did I… hurt anyone?”
“No. Well, you punched a couple of healers, but nothing they can’t handle.”
That was a relief. Hunter nodded. “Good. That’s… that’s good.”
He fidgeted with the covers, twisting the fabric in his hands. “I’m sorry.”
“What? Hunter, what on titan’s red corpse could you possibly have to be sorry for?”
“You asked me to fight back,” Hunter said softly. He kept fiddling with the blankets, as if to prove to himself that he still could control his own limbs. “I’m sorry, Darius, I tried, I really tried, I just couldn’t—I couldn’t—” his hands clenched into fists. “Am I just easy to control?” he whispered, “Is it me? Am I just—just weak? Do I make it easy?”
“No—No.” Darius shook his head, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Hunter. It took control of you because you saved me. If you hadn’t, I would have been the one with the glowing eyes kicking doctors. It’s not because you’re weak, or easy, or whatever else you might think. It’s because you, little prince, will not stop taking care of others, even when it puts your life on the line. And that’s not necessarily a bad thing.”
“Not necessarily?” Hunter squeaked.
“What you did today… you saved my life.”
“Oh—well—you would have been—”
“You saved my life,” Darius insisted, “Don’t downplay it, it was very brave.”
“Oh.” Hunter’s ears burned. “Thank you.”
Darius looked him dead in the eye. “It also frightened the everloving daylights out of me.”
Hunter winced. Fair. “Sorry.”
“They wouldn’t let me in to see you. They almost didn’t let me get to you in time.”
Hunter started twisting the blankets in his hands again. Almost another death by possession. If he had a snail for every time… But this time, things had been different. Even with the spirit controlling him, he’d felt… oddly calm. Or, at least, less desperate than the other times. He’d heard Darius’ voice bursting through, and he’d known, somehow, that he would be alright. That Darius would get him back.
He hadn’t known what a close call it had been, though.
“O-oh.”
“We got lucky,” Darius continued, “We got lucky this time, but in the future, we might not be so fortunate. And I almost—” Darius’ voice broke, and he gulped. “I almost lost you,” he whispered, “And I realized that… I realized just how much I didn’t want that to happen. I didn’t know—I suppose I knew unconsciously, but this—I can’t have what happened today happen again. I can’t be locked out like that again. Even if it’s not serious next time, even if it’s just a scrape, or a broken arm, I want to be there. So.” Darius plopped a stack of papers on the bed. “Here.”
Hunter slowly took the stack of papers. It was the adoption form that had been sitting on the kitchen counter for months—and Darius’ name was filled in on the first page. He started to flip through the pages.
“I signed every box,” Darius told him, “You can check. And—and you don’t have to sign yet if you’re not ready, you don’t ever have to sign, but I know I am ready.”
Hunter kept flipping as Darius spoke. At the very end of the packet lay a crumpled card.
He saw it.
“Whatever the case,” Darius continued, “I—”
“Do you have a pen?”
Darius stopped. “What?”
“Do you have a pen?” Hunter repeated.
“You’ve lost a lot of blood. Are you s—”
Hunter held out his hand. “You nearly watched me die today, Darius. But I almost watched you die as well. And… I got scared, too. I got scared that I’d lose you so soon after really getting to know you. And… I realized that I don’t want to just be your ward. I don’t want to just be some kid who lives in your house. So, yeah. I jumped in the way. I wasn’t trying to get hurt, but I knew it was possible.” Hunter opened and closed his fingers until Darius finally put a pen in his hand. “You don’t get to be the only one having revelations,” he joked. He signed his name at the end of the document.
It’s official.
Well, not technically. The papers had to be filed and finalized, of course, and anything could happen in transit. But it was a big step forward.
And Hunter was finally ready to take it.
“Okay,” Darius said quietly, “Now what?”
“I get released from the hospital?” Hunter suggested, to the snort of a healer who’d just entered the room.
But an hour later, he was leaving, with a list of prescribed potions a mile long, detailed instructions for taking care of his wounds, and an appointment in two days to check up and completely seal the wounds. A nurse watched him all the way out, hovering just inches away. Hunter wobbled on his feet, his limbs weak from blood loss, but stayed upright on his own.
Ava wove around his feet in the lobby, warbling. “Whoa—” Hunter picked the bird up before he could trip over her. “Hey, girl. I’ll get you home—” The nurse cleared his throat. “—in a few days,” Hunter finished lamely. “Oh, Bat Queen must be so worried about you. Would you be okay staying with Darius and I for a few days? I know you and he—”
Ava jumped, fluttering her wings enough to land on Darius’ hands, then swarming up to his shoulder. She preened, cooing smugly.
“She says it’s fine,” Darius assured Hunter. He wrinkled his nose at the bird. “Oh, you’ll tolerate me for Hunter’s sake, will you?”
Ava warbled at him, gently whacking her former witch in the head with one wing.
“Fair enough.” Darius raised one eyebrow at Hunter. “What’s that goofy grin for? You’re not about to pass out from blood loss, are you?”
Hunter hadn’t even realized he was smiling. “Nothing. It’s just nice to see you two getting along.”
Darius smirked. “For your sake only, of course.”
Ava smacked him with her wing again.
Hunter’s knees buckled, and Darius lunged forward to catch his forearms. “Ah. Alright. That’s enough standing around. “I’ve got you.” He waved off the nurse, who hovered even closer now. “Let’s go home.”
Home.
Hunter leaned against him, grateful for his warm stability.
I made the right choice.
Familiar purple washed around them, comforting and calm and cool. The abomination wiped away the sterile, unfamiliar clinic and replaced it with the welcoming sight of Darius’ beautiful front yard and the front of the house Hunter called home.
Which was now decorated with a banner hanging over the porch railing. Bubble letters in every hue of the rainbow read “It’s A Boy!” with nursery images of a toothed hornbill bird carrying a baby in its second beak.
Hunter’s mouth twitched upwards as Darius sputtered. He could guess who’d put it there, but his suspicion was confirmed by Darius’s yell of indignation.
“Jas-MIN!”
#not me almost being late with the last prompt to my own event lol#toh#the owl house#dadrius#darius deamonne#hunter deamonne#toh hunter#dadrius week 2023#day 7: safe#my writing#toh fanfiction#sonter
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Spiderwebs #11: Dollhouse
Masterlist
content: lab whump, captivity
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The bed was bought from a garage sale, a cheap but sturdy thing from somewhere downtown. It came with a matching nightstand, so Heather had that taken care of. She considered buying a lamp, but giving Jackie anything close to a weapon was a bad idea.
“What do you mean, a brush that isn’t sharp?”
Heather tried her best to sound polite. “I mean, if someone tries to stab me with that toothbrush, they won’t get very far. Something like that.”
The general store employee gave her an odd look, so Heather gave up and bought the least dangerous looking one. The mattress was ordered online. Heather was able to buy a few sets of clothes, alongside gloves and a new pair of black boots that would fit better than the old shoes Heather had let him borrow. She acquired a stronger light bulb, a nicer blanket, a pillow, and a shell-white bedsheet. A writing desk would be necessary for certain experiments, so she blew a few bucks on that. And a better chair, of course. Heather knew she was getting carried away when she almost bought a rug.
Three days passed before she could acquire everything. She didn’t visit Jackie in that time. She had left him food and water, obviously, and assumed he would figure the rest out by himself. She had enough on her hands with all the boxes in her living room, and the incessant calls. There were so many calls.
Heather lifted the phone for what must have been the sixth time that hour. “What is it now?”
“Heather, please!”
She heard that word a lot lately. Heather hung up without a moment’s hesitation. The phone rang again, however. It would keep ringing unless she answered. Her old boss was a determined man, even if he was a tad oblivious.
She lifted the phone again. “Listen, I’ll let you talk once. But this is the last time you call me, or I’m placing a restraining order.”
“Yes, of course.” There was a deep exhale on the other side of the line. “Heather, the organization needs you. Nobody else can work on that project. You were our best asset, face it. Half these idiots don’t even know how to operate a Bunsen burner. We need you.”
“Nice speech, but don’t kid yourself. You need my money.”
“So what? Maybe we need your money. The coffee machine ran out of coffee three weeks ago! Come back, and we’ll give you the highest position possible. All the benefits. Come on, you’re a reasonable person, you gotta come back.”
Heather brought the box cutter out of a drawer. “Yeah, thanks, but I’m legally not allowed back there. Go find someone else to leech off.”
“You tried to drug one intern, who cares?”
“The police!” she snapped. “If the higher-ups hear of this, the authorities will get involved, and I know you can't afford a lawyer. Don’t call me again.”
“Fine, fine. But it doesn’t have to be official, you know, just come with the money and we’ll collaborate in private. No more drugging the interns, but we’ll get some monkeys, whatever. What else are you planning? You aren’t working with someone new already, are you?”
“It’s been a month. What did you expect?” Heather ran the boxcutter along the taped edge of the bedframe’s box. “I’ve got another project. I’m not coming back. Goodbye.”
With that, she hung up and cut the last of the tape off. Damned bureaucrats. Sticking their nose where the money was like a pack of bloodhounds. Had all the politeness of a stray dog, too. Heather was done with them.
The research facility she used to work at had been dreadfully boring. Her colleagues shared different interests, to say the least. Benevolent, but horribly tedious interests. It was challenging, working on curing glioblastoma cancer, but she didn’t really care about curing diseases. She wanted to break the boundaries of what was considered science. She wanted to tear the universe apart and mesh it back together by her own design. Curing cancer was fine, but it was nothing compared to immortality. Those mice pumped full of steroids and painkillers were nothing in the shadow of Jackie Rockwell.
Speaking of, Heather was ready to check up on him. A thick, black scarf had been tossed aside on a sofa. She grabbed it, made her way across the hallway, then knocked on the basement door.
“Who’s there?”
She rolled her eyes, though he couldn’t see it. “Very funny.”
“Very funny who?”
Good to know he was awake, at least. She turned the lock and swung the door open. Jackie lay sprawled on the floor, still tangled in the blanket, surrounded by empty granola bar wrappers.
Heather waved her box cutter at him. “What are you doing?”
He froze. His neutral expression shifted into slight alarm. It reminded her of the incident, as she’d taken to thinking of it, after she had cut him open. That made her guilt weigh a little heavier. And that made her anger burn a little brighter. She had no idea what past Heather was thinking. Hugging her test subject was one of the most unprofessional situations she could think of. The worst part was that it had actually felt nice—but that didn't make any sense! Heather was not lonely. She was alone, but not lonely.
All she wanted was to forget about that mistake and move on with the experiments. That was nothing but a misstep, a fumble in the first half of the game. Nothing more.
“It’s not for you.” She pushed the blade closed and pocketed it. “Unless you decide to do something stupid.”
He relaxed, sighed, and sat up. “I’m not doing anything. There’s nothing to do here.”
“You’ll be happy with the change of scenery, then.” She stepped down the stairs. “Close your eyes.”
“I'm getting deja vu.” He closed them anyway.
Heather stepped behind him and wrapped the scarf around his eyes, twice. “Can you see anything?”
He shook his head.
“Excellent.” She pulled him up by the arms, and he staggered to his feet. “Follow my lead. Don’t take the blindfold off.”
“Whatever you say.”
“Exactly.”
With her hands firmly on his shoulders, she steered him up the stairs and out of the basement, then up another flight of stairs and down the hallway to her bedroom. There, she led him into a closet.
He felt for the walls, pushing his hands upon the sides. "Is this another experiment?"
"No. I have business to attend to. I don't want you running off in the meantime."
"The blindfold's a bit unnecessary."
"Is it?” She shut the closet door, then locked it. “I’ll be back soon. Don’t make too much of a mess.”
First of all, his room was filthy. The basement was splattered with blood and ash, filled with junk, and smelled like a slaughterhouse. The empty mirror was easy enough to move. The old dresser was pushed out without much effort, as were the remains of the table. The freezer was harder. She rolled it upstairs on an appliance dolly, as slowly as possible.
Bloodstains weren’t hard to clean. Piles of peroxide powder scattered over the floor broke down the copper-red splotches, while she cleared out the garbage and rotting food. Dusting and sweeping took a good ten or fifteen minutes. Clumps of dust and flakes of charcoal soon lay in the bottom of a black garbage bag.
The smell was harder to get rid of, now that it had time to seep in and settle, but she managed to cover it up with a few sprays of air freshener. Twenty minutes were spent on setting up the furniture, building the bed frame and putting the mattress on, then moving everything else into place.
By the end, Heather had to admit she was proud of her work. She never knew interior design could be so entertaining. That stillness, that empty perfection—it was all so fascinating. It reminded her of a diorama. After all, the room was primarily a safe environment for her subject. A contained space to observe him. An insect in a glass jar. A doll in a dollhouse.
Jackie was leaning against the closet wall when she came back. “Took you long enough.”
“Did I say you could take the blindfold off?”
“It’s a closet, what’s the big deal?”
She ripped the scarf from his grasp and placed it back over his head, despite his irritated expression. “Stop complaining. Come on.”
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Once they reached the basement, she lifted the scarf away.
He rubbed his eyes. He walked around the room in sprawling circles. He sat down on the bed, at last. His arms fell gently into his lap. Then, he looked back at her over his shoulder, eyes full of an apathetic uneasiness, and did not move. There was something very candid about it.
“Well?” she asked. “What do you think?”
“I think it’s stupid,” he replied at once. “Do you wanna know why I think it’s stupid?”
“No.”
“You’re putting so much effort into this,” he continued. “You think this is going to be a permanent thing. It’s ridiculous. It’s a waste of your time. It’s a waste of my time. You can’t keep me here forever.”
“I can’t?” She smiled, faintly amused. “You’re right. Forever is a long time. It’s only until one of us dies.”
“I will kill you.” That candid air snapped as he rose to his feet.
“Oh, you can try. If you need me to teach you another lesson—“ She pulled out the box cutter from her pocket, pushing the blade open—“I’d be happy to help.”
He sat back down, simmering with rage. “I can’t wait to see you rotting in prison, you fucking creep.”
“Oh, boo hoo. I’m a monster because I gave you a home. You have to live here, so what? I’m the one doing all the work. I’m the one taking care of you.” She pointed at him with the blade. “All you have to do is sit there and be quiet.”
“I have a home!” he snarled. “I already have a home! I don’t want you to take care of me. I didn’t ask for you to fucking kidnap me and keep me in your fucking basement. I don’t want to be your fucking test subject. I want to go back home, back to my home. I want to leave.”
“We don’t always get what we want, do we? If whining about it makes you happy, then you can keep whining. You can kick and scream the entire way. You’re still not leaving.” His glare only dug into her harder, and she sighed. “Try thinking of this in a positive way. It’s not all bad.”
“Yes, I’m sure a positive attitude will fix everything,” he replied tartly.
“A positive attitude will make you less insufferable. Just a suggestion. Maybe there’s a reason you used to live alone.”
“All because I didn’t say thank you to the psycho who kidnapped me.” He crossed his arms. “Gee, why didn’t I think of that? That’s a great way to make friends, isn’t it? Hey, maybe people would like you more if you didn’t rip their intestines out. Just a suggestion, you know. Maybe people wouldn’t think you were such a freak if—“
“Do you want to eat dinner or not?”
“I want to break your neck. Go to hell.”
Oh, how dare he. How dare he. Heather wanted to make him suffer for that. She wanted to hurt him. She wanted to—but she needed to take her own advice and think logically for a moment. Of course he was angry. Who wouldn't be? He was scared, she knew that, and anger was how he tried to protect himself. Anger was his tooth and claw when he lost all his other weapons. It was only natural, even if it was idiotic. He'd see her point eventually. He'd get used to it. She didn't need to starve him.
"It's alright," she said. "You're upset. I'll get you something to eat."
"You want to drug me again, don't you?” He scoffed. “I'll pass."
"You'll change your mind."
His expression said otherwise, but he would cave in eventually. Like rusted metal, all things could be worn down with time. Like frayed fabric, like rocky shores, like entire mountains. Who was Jackie in the face of all these things? Only a man, only an animal without any claws. Even an immortal couldn't win against the nature of things. The second hand would wear him down, sooner or later.
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@theelvishcowgirl
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Hi I adored your chilchuck/marcille fanfic, "grind me down sweetly", that was so lovely!! i ate it up with like no hesitation! i was wondering if you were considering writing more of them? thank you so much for all your work and thank you for sharing it with us!
First of all thank you so so much!! Every nice word and kudos mean the world to me, and for rarepairs they're all the more cherished 💖 And yes anon, I absolutely do plan on making more for them! As much as I can manage, a library's worth if possible. They're my absolute Dungeon Meshi OTP and Dunmeshi’s been my obsession for like 10 months now, I'm a huge shipper & I love making fancontent and yeahh it's not stopping anytime soon. Though I am a slow writer... And I really should get around to finishing my older non-dunmeshi wips too 😫
I’ve talked about marchil fanfic prompts/wips a couple times on here, and very recently even about a sequel to Grind Me Down Sweetly actually! The fic’s a lot about having a familiar routine with someone and sort of growing used to that, to knowing someone like that and with sharing his days and his living space with someone again, about growing open to the idea that maybe just maybe he and Marcille could have something in the first place. And it’s kept pretty platonic due to that and whatnot, but I recently thought that, since the arc of him becoming more aware and open to the relationship got done in GMDS, doing a sequel where we actually see the relationship grow more romantic would be cute!! Warming up to the romantic nature of their relationship like settling down into a cozy couch. And this time rather than coffee it’ll be centered around what all the best cafes have… Cats!
Gonna summarize the concepts of some of my marchil fic wips under the cut, if you’d rather go in blind when they… Eventually get written, then you can just stop here and safely be assured that I am 100% planning on writing more for them! Oh, btw I also take prompts and requests, though I can’t promise anything.
Alright so GMDS sequel: I think in canon both Marcille and Chilchuck have a special dynamic with Izutsumi, where they care after her, not unlike Senshi but with more feelings attached. With her traveling around, I feel like every once in a while they’d talk about her, dealing with the worry and the uncertainty. Marcille is like "My fragile baby bird out into the world… She needs to at least live to be 100 years old 😭" while Chil knows how it’s like and just trusts her to be alright, like with Puckpatti. And so!! Every time she sees a stray cat while strolling out her heart pangs… There are many strays in Chilchuck’s neighborhood, and with her pushing for it they start leaving some food out for them. At one point she sees one standing out in the rain all pitifully in front of Chil’s shop and she invites it in (to Chilchuck’s despair), and from then on it’s still a stray but it has a home to go back to… Until Marcille officially adopts it. And it can showcase Marcille and Chil’s growing relationship alongside that metaphorically, where she sorta moves in and they grow more boldly affectionate, and it’s like… Domesticating love… 😌
Man didn’t want a cat, a cat daughter nor a new lover, but they took a liking to him and were stubborn about getting close to him and now there they all are. I like to say that post-canon despite Chil living alone in his shop he gets a second family of clingy asses, and this is exactly what I mean. Vibe wise I’d like it to have that cozy energy of spending a slow afternoon at a nice quiet cafe on a rainy day, but we’ll see how I manage it! It’s not the highest on my writing priorities currently though.
Other marchil fic ideas I’ve talked about are…
Following them on that time pre-canon where they went to shop for a pouch together would be cute.
I have a long post talking about them being sick and caring for each other would be like and that’d make a fun whump fic too. He gets sick and she dotes on him, she indulges herself and kisses him anyways, and then of course he passes it on to her right as he gets better so then it’s her turn getting taken care of hehe.
This one’s more convoluted, so either Marcille invites him to a fancy social event at the castle as her plus-one (aka emotional support) maybe already dating maybe on the verge of confessing, OR they’re already dating and then Marcille’s mom visits them and it’s very sweet and maybe marriage talks happens~, but in both cases Chilchuck is going through SO much stress. Just Chilchuck’s heart being on the absolute edge of giving out, going through the five stages of grief over the banquet not having his favorite kind of alcohol and Marcille not letting him be an ornamental plant in the corner of the room and doing the bare minimum. Or having to engage with her mom and seeming worthy of being her lover as his shit is only barely pulled together after they hurry to ready his house to host her as a guest.
And I have a bunch of wips where I tackle them properly doing a confession or a proposal… I was planning on making a comic about it even. Here’s a lil taste of them talking about getting into a relationship together~
And you know what, here are some new exclusive ones I hadn’t shared yet that I’d really like to get around to making
In the meantime if you want I have a ton of analysis and headcanon posts about marchil on this blog, and fanarts here, and @fumiku is my fanfic blog with updates + for fanfic related asks (which rarely gets used rip).
I have non-marchil dunmeshi fanfics I want to prioritize too, but idk idk I’ll see what I end up getting around to… I like having a new vision to offer with each fic, so I tend to prioritize fics that take a new angle for the same ship or tackle different characters and themes, so I can see myself pushing myself to do other stuff before falling back into my marchil comfort zone.
#ask#fumi rambles#fic updates#fic wip#marchil#I keep my fic ideas grouped in the same text file usually but the file for dungeon meshi ones was getting so loooooong and huge#I recently had to split all the marchil ones into its own file bc it was half of the whole thing and was getting out of hand lmaooo
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I think the funniest thing about Hawk being Like That is that Alan Alda has writers credits on the show. This man voluntarily made his character the most touch starved needy desperate person on the planet and that's so fucking insane of him. But also Mr Alda I would like to give you a little hug and a kiss for giving him to us because I love him with my whole heart. And don't even get me started on the fact that Hawkeye yelled to a general "I want to have your baby!" In literally the first season. Like Hawkeye my love not everyone needs to know you want to be pregnant 😂 And truly he deserves to be absolutely smothered with cuddles, everyone loves him and he loves everyone and I think it could help fix him.
Listen my Trap brain is always on, he's my man, I am thinking about him quite literally daily. And now that you reminded me of the priest line I'm gonna think of that too! Like Trapper my love what happened in your past? Did your parents give you that many names in hopes you'd be a priest? Did you pick one yourself for confirmation? Why did you keep all of the names despite seemingly abandoning the religion? I am peering at him like a bug under a microscope and there's nothing he can do about it.
That little coffee through line with Margret is so cute! Even though I'm sure it was unintentional on the show's part I definitely couldn't help but think of it and flash back to The Nurses in both the scenes in Temporary Duty and CAVE. Margaret and cups of coffee representing her character growth is honestly so sweet and I love it. Also ooohhhh self proclaimed Military Brat Margaret Houlihan realizing that the Army Way isn't the only way or even the best way, and the things that would DO to her. The realization that what she's learned her whole life isn't necessarily good, and having to contend with what that means for her and her career and her personality. And also having to face her father after that, because we see in Are You Now, Margaret? that she cares very much about disappointing him and even affecting his career. Would such a realization maybe help her become more of her own person that isn't living only to make her father proud and keep up the Houlihan name? Or is her desire to be a point of pride for her family more important to her than her personal development? Truly she's so fascinating to me. And it's definitely an interesting parallel with Mulcahy, both of them having something so deeply ingrained in them that it h u r t s when it's finally inevitably broken out.
Everyone in this show suffered enough in the narrative for several lifetimes but damn if I don't wanna give them a little bit more hardship to really crack them open and wrap up their character development in the way they deserve. I'll definitely give them softness and love but first they need a little bit of pain I think 😂
(Also I am officially onto season 8! I finished Goodbye Radar last night and was a Wreck. Man I love this show)
Okay hi again anon, sorry for making this sit while thinking too hard about Hawk and Beje and Trap things.
I swear that Alan did more to break and attempt to breed Hawk than any of us fanfic authors have ever done. I am not entirely convinced that this man didn't start getting the bends once he couldn't whump Hawk anymore and instead pivoted to writing fanfics for the old distant zines that popped up in the '80s. He probably has multiple AO3 accounts right now just churning out agonizing pain. Alan we know what you are.
I do hate that we got so little development for Trap compared to Beej but it's also delightful because it means all of us get to sit here and rotate him on a merry-go-round that goes faster and faster and never stops. Anything is possible. He's so INTERESTING!!! He's like half a guy! No matter what anyone says, they could probably make it work! And that means I am in fact slam dunking the religious trauma into him at breakneck speeds. Sorry, bud (lie).
I'm so glad you mentioned Are You Now Margaret because that's one of those underrated episodes that always has its teeth so deep in me. We learn so much about her so fast. Her big friend group!! She had so many people who loved her and who she loves enough that she refuses to endanger them even though she hasn't spoken to make in years!! The fact that she will give her father that kind of deference even though we all know in our bones that he doesn't deserve it! God, Margaret.
I love people like you who run in with a wrecking ball just absolute decimating all these characters that we know and love so that I can come in after in my little clown car with hot chocolate and blankets. I am a simple author. I know what my duty is here. And it's getting everybody laid by everybody else but ALSO giving them extreme amounts of aftercare and pillow nests ;v; We all share such a vital role in this ecosystem.
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I feel like I should probably start a list of “what I want from season 6.”
So here goes, in no particular order, and to be added to as this show occupies my brain a probably-less-than-healthy amount of time:
• More Charah kisses, obvi
• Canon bi character(s) with bonus points if it’s Jesse
• Sarah officially moves in with Charlie
• Jesse promotion
• Donovan whump. Seriously. The man has escaped whump for five seasons. He’s way overdue.
• Charlie whump, again, obvi
• Return of some villain from a previous season with an actual vendetta (as opposed to some crap they come up with mid-season that the audience has no emotional investment in, because we’ve never met these vaguely threatening “bad guys from the past” before)
• At least one Truong family member. Seriously. I will settle for just one. As a treat. Because FFS, we met previously nonexistent siblings for two major characters in s5, we’ve met Joe’s family, CAN WE PLEASE HAVE MORE SARAH PERSONAL CONTENT I AM BEGGING.
• Something big for episode 100. Like a Charah wedding. (This is where I go on a mini-rant against heteronormative/patriarchal/whatever the word is for “they must get married and have babies” nuclear family bullshit, but then promptly contradict myself by saying that marriage does, in fact, fit each of their character arcs.)
• Okay here’s a thing I don’t want (which I guess could be another list in and of itself but whatever, my blog my rules): The whole team to have workplace romantic pairings. Seriously, I keep seeing the “omg Jesse and Karma” (no) or “Joe and Vanessa yessss” (solid maybe, but they’re not ready yet) stuff on other social media and I cringe.
Why? Because I feel like it’s a bit manufactured to just start throwing all these characters together. And why does this differ from my view of Charah? Because that slow burn was done (mostly) well, and had the time to fully develop. The “Jesse has a crush on Karma” feels forced, and Joe and Vanessa are now going to have to contend with the added dynamic of their chain of command. I do ship Joenessa, I just don’t think they’re there yet.
I’m also angling for Karma having a secret girlfriend, LET ME HAVE MY DREAMS, OKAY?
• While on the subject of Karma (I just think she’s neat) I would like much more Karma. Like regular cast member, in every episode Karma.
• I feel like I need to come up with something for Rex. Another cool adventure through the wilderness? A promotion? A well-deserved vacation?
Okay that’s it for now. I’m sure I’ll think of more.
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Masterlist
Here you'll find all the things I create (all type of fics, gifs, metas), conveniently collected in one place. So far I'm obsessed with Cursed and Fear the Walking Dead (which has one common theme, Daniel Sharman). Enjoy 🧡
Fear the Walking Dead
Fanfiction
Troy Otto
Ghost 2,126 words, WIP, angst, sad, exploration of Troy's headspace immediately after the last scene we see him at the dam, what did surviving this do to him?
Troy Otto x Alicia Clark
[Series] Sick like you [01 - 02 - 03 - 04 - 05] Troy Otto x Alicia Clark, 9,850 words, finished, smut, so much smut, slight dub-con, D/s undertones, part one is canon compliant, Alicia is done being the good kid, but then she feels bad about it, cheating, enemies to lovers, unhealthy to healthy relationship
Troy Otto x Crazy Dog (Lee) || Troy Otto & Crazy Dog (Lee)
Addicted to mess Troy Otto x Crazy Dog, 185,730 words, WIP, (lots and lots of) smut, fluff, angst, wholesome, enemies to enemies with benefits to lovers, watch them turn an unhealthy relationship into a healthy one , also have I said smut yet?
Fool me twice Troy Otto x Crazy Dog, 20,350 words, WIP, smut, dub con, unhealthy relationship, Troy Otto has a deathwish, Crazy Dog takes advantage
Just around the corner Troy Otto x Crazy Dog, 4,185 words, WIP, fluff, AU - no zombies, In a world without zombies Troy finds a different purpose
Love, endless Troy Otto x Crazy Dog, 1,029, finished (for now), unhealthy relationship, angst, dark, tragedy, COMIC
Moonlit Kisses Troy Otto x Crazy Dog, 32,750 words, finished, fluff, wholesome, sweet, first kiss, first time, smut, canon divergent, teeny bit of angst, some whump
Paint your body in hues of red Troy Otto x Crazy Dog x OC, 1,933 words, finished, smut, fluff, established relationship, wax play, facesitting
Sex Worker AU Troy Otto x Crazy Dog, no official word count, no WIP and not finished but a secret third thing (idea I had I'll probably never write), AU - no zombies, Troy sells the ranch after his father dies and decides to have some fun, includes but not limited to hiring a sex worker (Lee), client to friend to lover, imagine
Soup Troy Otto x Crazy Dog, 696 words, finished, fluff, Troy loves soup
Surprise Troy Otto x Crazy Dog, 625 words, finished, fluff, Troy has a surprise for Crazy Dog
[Series] The easy part is always hardest to see [01 - 02 - 03 - 04 - 04 (alternative version) - 05 - 06] Troy Otto x Crazy Dog, 42,204 words, finished, smut, teeny bit of dub-con, a lot of fluff, some angst, pining, whump, enemies to friends to lovers
[Series] The melody of sand and waves and hope and schemes Troy Otto x Crazy Dog, 2,629 words, finished (for now?), AU - Royalty, arranged marriage, fluff, cute, pre-relationship, Princess Troy series
The monster that brought me here Troy Otto x Crazy Dog, 28,323 words, WIP, dark, angst, hurt, little comfort, sad, Troy is dealing with the trauma of having been raped, Crazy Dog has his own trauma to work through, canon divergent, second part of a series, fallout from 'I'd do it all again'
The moon bathes your face in gentle light no official wordcount, finished (for now) Troy Otto x Crazy Dog, angst, fluff, Troy survives s8, saves Tracy and runs into a familiar face - the two former enemies bond over their similar grief
This insanity you give to me Troy Otto x Crazy Dog, 29,551 words, finished, smut, fluff, teeny bit of angst, instead of avoiding Crazy Dog after their initial encounter in 'Addicted to mess' Troy seeks him out. After all, that asshole can't just do things like that to him and then leave, spin-off of 'Addicted to mess'
What's it gonna be, Troy? Troy Otto & Crazy Dog, 8,146 words, finished, oneshot, soulmate AU, angst, fluff, pre-relationship, enemies to friends (soulmates)
Troy Otto & Jake Otto
Cozy 353 words, finished, angst, some fluff, what was running through Troy's mind during the hug with Jake in s3ep9 (right before he was exiled)
Troy Otto & Madison Clark
Moral Compass no official word count, no WIP and not finished but a secret third thing (idea I had I'll probably never write), a stab at deepening Troy's and Madison's relationship (really just the beginning of it), a mututal madness
What should've been - Troy's revenge 1,242, finished, angst, hurt, some comfort I guess, fix-it I guess, how s8ep11 should've gone
When home becomes a strange place Troy Otto & Madison Clark, 3,370 words, finished, fix-it, hopeful ending, bittersweet, what would it take for Madison to actually start caring about Troy
Troy Otto x Nick Clark || Troy Otto & Nick Clark
I'd do it all again Troy Otto x Nick Clark, 10,185 words, finished, dark, angst, hurt no comfort, non-con (rape), suicide, not a happy story, what if things at the dam went a bit different - and how will they live with the consequences of their actions?
Sketch Troy Otto & Nick Clark, 337 words, finished, angst, hopeful?, fix-it?
That Crazy Bastard Troy Otto & Nick Clark, 728 words, finished, fluff, Troy had been vanishing for over a week now, refusing to tell Nick what he was up to. Until today
Troy Otto x Crazy Dog X OC
I can't stop imagining hurting you Troy Otto x Crazy Dog x OC, 9,424 words, finished, smutt, fluff, Troy gets introduced to the concept of spanking
Lost & Found Troy Otto x Crazy Dog x OC, 32,554 words, WIP, fluff, angst, Troy Otto being saved after the dam, finding his way back to himself, fast-burn, 'Addicted to mess' chapters 1 and 2 happened in this universe too, rest of s3 happened as in canon
No title Troy Otto x Crazy Dog x OC, no official word count, snippet, fluff, angst, abusive!serena backstory
Troy Otto x OC
Earn your keep 131,622 words, WIP, Troy gets a redemption arc, major character death (happens in the first chapter), Troy Otto centric, slow burn, grudging allies to friends to lovers, angst, fluff
Follow me (down the streams of sweat on your body) Troy Otto x unnamed female (could be reader, could be author, could be OC, could even be someone from canon), 5,612 words, finished, smut, slight D/s undertones, bondage, aftercare, fluff, praise kink
Kept 14,893 words, WIP, dub-con, past sexual abuse, AU - no Clarks, dark, angst, suicidal thoughts, bad BDSM etiquette, unhealthy relationship, slow burn to a better place, two broken people trying to figure things out between them, will get worse before it gets better
Troy Otto & his parents (Jeremiah Otto, Tracy Otto)
Childhood memories 2,084 words, WIP, angst, hurt, dark, child abuse, a study of Troy's childhood, his mother's complicated feelings, what happened with the rabbits
Troy Otto & Tracy Otto (daughter)
Reunion no official wordcount, Imagine, finished, angst, fluff, Troy survived s8 and rescues his daughter
Gifs&Lyrics
I will do it again
Who are you to say that?
Asks & Metas
Jake Otto
Jake Otto as a Brother
even more
Troy Otto
...and Boundaries
...and the Horde
...as a father
Favorite Troy scene(s) and why
'I don't drink'
'I'd do it all again'
...in a relationship
'It's the first time I've felt fear'
On killing Mike
Post s8 thoughts
Troy and Madison
Troy's feelings in his last moments (s3)
Troy's sexuality and more on his sexuality
Why Troy didn't get poisoned like the other Militia members
'You stayed at the ranch because you love me'
Cursed
Fanfiction
Empty ways can cloud your eyes The Weeping Monk x Reader, 20,268 words, WIP (though ch 11 is a good place to end things), redemption arc, crisis of faith, friends to lovers, fluff and angst, whump
Madness is a narrow bridge The Weeping Monk, finished, oneshot, angst, dark, no comfort, a heartbreaking glimpse into the weeping monk's mind while he hunts his own
Gifs&Lyrics
The Weeping Monk & Squirrel, AOV by Slipknot
The Weeping Monk & Gawain, Custer by Slipknot
The Weeping Monk & his faith (i guess), Broken Crown by Mumford and Sons
The Weeping Monk & his guilt, Lech by Slipknot
The Weeping Monk & his doubts, The burden by Slipknot
The Weeping Monk & Father Carden, The In-between by In This Moment
#troy otto#lancelot#the weeping monk#jake otto#alicia clark#madison clark#nick clark#ftwd#fear the walking dead#cursed netflix#fanfics#gifs and lyrics#masterlist#my writing#this took forever to make#god i'm really bad at keeping this up to date
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I couldn't give less of a shit about the other things going down but deleting replies of disabled people speaking out against blatant ableism going on in your comments is such a shitty fucking thing to do. The whump community already has a bad rep for ableism, you're making it worse for all of us.
Hi Anon,
First off, a general apology for our radio silence — all of our mods are busy (I personally work seven days a week and am on-call most evenings currently) so all of us getting a chance to have a solid discussion isn’t happening immediately, as much as you, and we would like it to.
As a group, we’ve discussed the deleted replies. For all of us, Tumblr was showing their default message of “Some Replies may have been hidden, blocked or removed.” We figured it was just Tumblr being a hellsite and moved on.
With replies still showing as deleted, and it being pointed out that they were showing as deleted for others, we took a closer look at blog settings and the way Tumblr works. We realised that it was due to blocks from personal Tumblr accounts that replies were disappearing.
Due to backlash and hostility regarding our decision of our stance on AI, some mods blocked commenters from personal accounts. Giving everyone (including us mods) time and space to cool off was important to us. A big part of Tumblr is the ability to curate your own online experiences, and we thought that a temporary block would allow us this.
We didn’t realise that it would impact the visibility on the official Whumptober blog. We don’t want anyone to feel singled out due to personal conflict, although now it looks like we have done so without intention, so we apologise for that.
So as far as we’re aware, all blocks have been removed and all comments should be visible now. If your comments still aren’t showing, please know that they were not removed through malice.
As for our AI stance, we plan to release another official statement soon. However, this is still in discussion among ourselves.
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Querencia 12.5 - First Healing
You guys voted, and amazingly enough, I have delivered! This chapter was already floating around in my head, though it’s not technically the “next” chapter of the series like the poll said. This falls right after Shopping Trip and before Just a Cold and the Mind Control trilogy, and is a moment I realized was missing from the story.
Taglist: @darthsutrich , @inky-whump , @painful-pooch , @pigeonwhumps , @bookworm2107
Previous | Next | Masterlist
Contains: lady whump, dude whump, broken ribs, self-deprecating thoughts, references to past homelessness, hidden injuries
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Liliana is alone in the warehouse, and it’s…a bit creepy, if she were to be honest. The place is huge, and her footsteps echo everywhere she walks. She’s tempted to hide in her room until the team returns. Then again, something about being shut in a room with no idea what’s going on in the rest of the building is even more disconcerting than being out here in the emptiness.
She should be ready for when they get back, anyway. This is the first time they’ve gotten called out on superhero duties since she’s been staying here, which means that they could very well get hurt and need her to heal them when they get back. Nari has assured her that it doesn’t happen very often. Still, that’s the only reason she’s here, right? If one of them does come back hurt, she should be ready to help right away, not locked away in her room.
So she makes her way to the infirmary, instead. It’s a small room, mainly comprised of a cot in the center, a counter with cabinets above it on one wall, and some shelves on another. They keep it stocked with first aid items, some a bit beyond what’s typical like crutches and slings and forceps.
They don’t really like to go to the hospital, Jamil had explained. None of them have ever had personal encounters with people who hate Nons…Supers…but they’ve heard the tales. They can’t risk being at the mercy of doctors and nurses whose political leanings they don’t know.
Liliana understands that perfectly.
They won’t need all the paraphernalia anymore, though, not with her around. She’s happy that she can take that burden off of them, take away the worry of what if someday we get hurt too badly to treat here. They’ve done so much for the city, after all, and now for her. They deserve to be taken care of.
At the same time, the longer she sits there, kicking her feet and staring at the blank walls, the more nervous she gets. She hasn’t healed that many people. There were a few accidental healings when she was young, but other than the arthritis those were all scrapes and bruises and one common cold. Then came the years at the facility, when she wasn’t allowed to even think about using her power.
While she was on the streets, she’d healed twice - both times with an enormous amount of fear that someone was going to leap out into the open and drag her back to the facility for doing so. The first time was the worst thing she’d ever healed. A lady had gotten mugged in an alleyway, and Liliana had healed where the mugger had hit her over the head with the butt of his gun. The only reason she’d stepped in and shoved her fear aside then was because she was afraid the woman might die otherwise. The headache she’d gotten from that was horrendous and lasted for a few days straight. Not something that she was looking to repeat anytime soon.
The second time she did with slightly less trepidation, since there hadn’t been consequences for the first. That was the man with the broken glass, the time when she’d met Nari and Quinn. The pain from that wasn’t all that bad, just a few stinging cuts. She still has the little white scars on her stomach.
And the only other time she’s healed was Jamil’s broken nose, which had been nerve-racking, too, but she was the one who’d broken it so she had to offer to heal it. That had hurt for days, too, and she kept feeling like she couldn’t breathe.
Today could be her first official healing, though. Her first time really performing her new job.
When she’d agreed to join their team, it had been a spur of the moment decision. A decision she’s second guessed many times, for reasons ranging from I shouldn’t have moved in with a bunch of strangers to they need someone better than me, someone with less problems than me.
Now, in this moment, she’s second guessing her ability to handle the kinds of injuries a team of superheroes might come in with. They could have broken bones. They could get shot, stabbed, burned, impaled, electrocuted…the villains they fight against have all varieties of powers that can do a ton of damage. Can she really heal any and all of that? More importantly, can she do it without letting on that it hurts, for however long it may take for those things to heal?
She doesn’t have a choice. They let her in so that she could heal them. If she can’t do it, then she’ll get kicked out, and she’s not sure she can handle going back to the streets, losing all of this comfort and care that she’s finally starting to get used to. And she can’t let them know that it hurts her, they’ll think she’s too weak and the result would be exactly the same.
It isn’t that they’re mean. They’re the nicest people she’s ever met. But they need someone who can do this job. She has to make sure that’s her, so she won’t lose even more people and yet another place to live.
The wait is excruciating, but eventually she hears the beeping and opening of the front door from just down the hall. Jumping to her feet, she moves to the doorway, wringing her gloved hands as she peers out. One, two, three, four…they’re all on their feet. It doesn’t mean no one is injured at all, but it’s certainly not as bad as it could be.
Quinn’s face brightens when he sees her. “Liliana, hey.” His eyes dart toward the room behind her. “Everything alright?”
She nods, still glancing up and down at what she can see of all of them. “I’m just, just waiting. For, um…for you guys to get back. Just in case.”
“Oh, that’s perfect. We’re mostly in one piece, but Alex did break a rib or two.” He gestures back toward the redhead, who she can see now is pressing one hand to his side.
“Ehh, I think they’re just cracked.” He waves his free hand casually. “Nothing new for me, honestly. I get beat up a lot.” He laughs at his own joke, then winces in clear regret.
Liliana’s eyes widen. Cracked ribs. She can handle that, right? She’s never had injured ribs before, but if Alex can treat it so nonchalantly then maybe she can, too. She definitely doesn’t want him to keep being in pain, it makes her stomach churn watching him react.
“I can, I can help. That’s what, um, what I’m here for, r-right?”
He grins at her and enters the infirmary as she steps back to make room. “I’d really appreciate it, if you think you’re up for it.” Gingerly, he settles on the cot facing her. “I’m used to having to deal with these things for weeks. If you can really make it disappear in an instant…”
“Mhm.” She nods again, still toying with her fingers. She’s just standing there, and he’s sitting, watching her…waiting on her, she realizes. Everyone is waiting on her. The other three are crowded into the room behind her, ready to watch her perform her task.
Right. She can do this. Gloves have to come off…well, maybe just one. One glove off, then she has to…oh, shoot, she has to ask him to…
“Um. I, um…I n-need…” Her face is growing hot. “I-I have to, to…to touch…like, um…s-skin…”
His eyebrows go up in realization. “Oh! Yeah, no problem.” He lifts the bottom hem of his shirt, revealing a cluster of bruises on his right side. “And don’t worry about hurting me, I’m tough.”
Her cheeks are still burning. “It, um, it shouldn’t hurt.”
“It doesn’t!” Jamil pipes in from the doorway. “At least it didn’t for me. Barely felt a thing.”
“Oh right! I forgot you’ve done this before.” Alex leans over slightly to see him. “Is it cool?”
“Definitely. Though I didn’t get to actually, you know…see it. I’m looking forward to it this time.”
The others are agreeing, and Liliana wants to curl up in a hole somewhere and disappear. They’re all acting like this is some huge special thing that she can do, and it’s just…her power. The power that got her kicked out of her family and locked up for three years. Yes, if she has to have a power she’s glad that it’s one that helps people, but it’s not special. It’s not that big of a deal.
“Okay, I’m, I’m gonna…” She motions toward his ribs and steps forward, sliding the glove from her fingers. Her hand is shaking a little.
Ever so gently, she places her fingertips against the bruised skin. Blue light immediately spreads across the area, soaking up the black and purple, seeping down until it reaches the cracked bones and beginning to mend them.
Don’t make a face, don’t make a face, don’t make a face.
The pain of her ribs “cracking” is sharp and immediately invades every breath. Liliana bites down on the inside of her lip to keep from gasping or making any noise.
Cállate, cállate, no hagas ruido, no pueden averiguar.
She glances up at Alex’s face, but his head is tilted down to watch the healing. Good. If she did slip and make any kind of expression, no one would have seen.
The light fades away as the last of the pain transfers, and she lets her hand drop, quickly moving to put her glove back on. “How’s, um…how’s it feel?”
His gaze comes up, and his eyes are wide with amazement. “Wow.” He stretches his arms over his head, bends his torso back and forth. She knows for a fact that those movements would have been very painful a minute ago.
“It feels great! It’s…totally gone, like, not even a trace left.” Looking down and pulling his shirt up again, he runs his fingers over the now unblemished skin. “That’s crazy.”
The others crowd around, Jamil poking at Alex and Nari making teasing comments about how he just can’t keep himself from getting hurt, and Liliana shrinks backwards, out of the way. Sharp pain shoots through her ribs with any little twist of her body. She’s going to have to learn how she can and can’t move, but try her best not to look stiff in the meantime.
A few weeks, he said, right? She can do this. It’ll be fine.
Alex stands and pushes his way past the others, not a difficult feat considering how much space his height and muscles take up. “Seriously, Lil, you’re fantastic.” He chuckles to himself. “Get it? Lil? ‘Cause you’re so…lil? I’m calling you Lil from now on. Anyway, I’d hug you, but you probably don’t want me to and that’s fine, so…fist bump? Can we fist bump it?”
She definitely does not want a hug right now, not with cracked ribs, but…she can handle a fist bump, she thinks. Tentatively, she raises her fist, and Alex gently knocks his knuckles into hers.
“Welcome officially to the team, kid. It’s great to have you here.”
Everyone spills out of the room exclaiming similar messages, making a huge deal out of what she just did and her presence with them. Liliana follows along silently, cheeks flushed again, trying not to let the praise get to her.
She still wishes they wouldn’t make such a big deal out of it. But if her power can make them this happy, then she’s very glad she can share it with them. Even if it ends up hurting much worse in the future.
#querencia#liliana the healer#alex the hero#quinn the leader#jamil the hero#nari the hero#lady whump#lady whumpee#dude whump#broken ribs#self deprecating thoughts#hidden injury#found family#team as family#whump writing#whump series#superheroes#hero whumpee
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The proposal, p.2
1,373 words | Royal arms (sequel to The proposal, p.1)
Content | Captivity, fear for loved ones, implied starvation, political/implied forced marriage, discussion of a trans man getting pregnant
Notes | Rejoice! Arracen is now officially canonically trans!
Some of this probably comes a bit out of left field and that's because I didn't know from the start lol.
Taglist | @whumpy-writings @cupcakes-and-pain @whumpzone @newbornwhumperfly @nicolepascaline @thegreatwhodini @neverthelass @wolfeyedwitch @onlybadendings @quietshae @whumpcreations @whumpydaydreams @whumpsy-daisy @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @kixngiggles @tears-and-lilies @melancholy-in-the-morning @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @whump-cravings
As Arracen got to his feet, the scent wafting up from the table made his stomach growl, easily loud enough for Idalis to hear, and he had to swallow down more tears, this time of sheer humiliation. But Idalis didn’t comment. Arracen didn’t even catch a smirk.
Idalis started eating as soon as Arracen sat down, implying permission to follow his lead. Arracen tried to remain civil, tried not to let on how desperate he was, even as the food in front of him pushed every other worry to the back of his mind. It shouldn’t, really. What was he, some kind of beast?
He felt Idalis’ sharp eyes on himself, still, and once he had sated the worst of his hunger, he forced himself to look at him again; he wouldn’t sit here with his head down like a kicked dog waiting for his new master to grace him with some insight into what was going on.
Even though maybe it would have been safer.
»I was under the impression you kept a human pet,« Idalis said abruptly, dipping his bread into the rich broth that had been served. »I’ve since been informed of the situation. It seems we are on the same page about this matter.«
Arracen’s mind, still reeling from the absurd accusation, raced to figure out what Idalis was trying to tell him. Was he trying to make him feel secure? Preparing to pull the rug by telling him this was their only common ground and so Arracen was currently having his last meal?
He had - at least heard about, if not met, Lint. Something must have happened, for better or for worse. That was, really, the only thing that mattered.
He couldn’t fuck this up, for his and Nelisa’s sake. »I’m glad to hear that.« Have you met Lint? Is he alright? What have you done with him?
»He’s fine.« This time Idalis smirked, and Arracen couldn’t keep looking at him, knowing how transparent he was. »He and your other lover.«
Nelisa hadn’t had the good sense to escape, then. He was momentarily overwhelmed with a mixture of terror and selfish relief, but he had to focus. There it was - the threat was coming, he could feel it, as inevitable as a monster approaching a ship at sea. Idalis was just about to tell him what he would need to do, what more of his dignity he would have to trade away, to keep it this way.
The worst part was that he would do it. Of course he would.
»But that wasn’t what I wanted to talk to you. I have a proposal to offer you.«
Oh, of course. A proposal. If Arracen hadn’t been so hungry, his appetite would have abandoned him at the duplicity. »I’m listening.« What else could he say?
»I purpose to marry you.«
For a moment, Arracen could only stare in shock. One among the two of them had lost his mind, there was no other explanation. »I beg your pardon?« he finally choked out.
»I wish to marry you.« Idalis set his cutlery down. »Your people love you, you know that. It will be easier for me, and them, if they learn to love me also, and what simpler way to achieve that than through you? And further, I will need an heir sooner or later. That is to say, a consort that will carry them.«
Arracen swallowed thickly. It was always going to come to this; he had known that his whole life. If there was one thing royals did not get a choice in, it was the matter of producing an heir. It had been easy to put it out of his mind, for a time.
But maybe he shouldn’t have.
Then it wouldn’t have hit him like a horse’s kick to the chest now, when everything hinged on his reaction.
»If you agree, and I find you trustworthy, you may rule this your country in my stead while I’m away. Your lovers will be safe - I won’t mind them-« his eyes flickered to Cassio, »-as long as the child is mine, and so long as my husband cares for them, I will protect them like family.« There was a genuine softness to his voice for a moment, before he sobered up. »And you are also royal. You, too, will need an heir sooner or later. I am offering you a mutually beneficial arrangement.«
Arracen still couldn’t find words. All his lessons in diplomacy and rhetorics, swept away by the notion that, in fact, he could not and would not lead the life of a man given a body that fit.
Idalis gave a small huff. »Let me be clear, I am proposing to take you as my king consort, not my queen. You can have all the moondew you want after you give me an heir; it will be easy, now that we can work on rebuilding the trade routes. But I do need an heir and - I like men. Which makes you the preferred candidate, politics aside.« His voice trailed off, and for the first time, his gaze did too.
It was true, Arracen reckoned. There weren’t many male royals with a womb, not that he knew of. The argument made his heart a little lighter, even; Idalis was choosing him because he was a man, not in spite of it.
Not to spite him.
He had heard of moondew - that fairytale substance that could transform someone’s body to match their soul. It wasn’t really a fairytale, but it might as well have been in the chaos of the past years, with him going to be a hostage at Thobrinos’ court, and then the war Idalis started messing up all the trade routes from the west.
Eliphion, the country that was truly Idalis’ own, held the largest known sources. He wasn’t making an empty promise, or at least he wasn’t thinking so, Arracen was willing to believe that much.
But none of that mattered; he had to stay sensible. All the sweet promises aside, he was being coerced into marriage with a man who had taken what was his, and was now offering it right back to him as if it was a great gift.
He might have to take it - that was the worst part - but he would not let Idalis pretend it was anything other. He wasn’t sure he really wanted to see what was underneath the mask, but he wouldn’t just let it slide like a helpless child. »And if I don’t agree?« His voice almost cracked over the words, and he hated it.
Idalis cocked his head, eyeing him as if he hadn’t particularly considered this eventuality. »I will appoint a steward I see fit, and you… well, I suppose I could just put you under house arrest. See to it that you don’t stir up trouble. Your people wouldn’t be thrilled to hear you’re dead, I’m sure, and I am no tyrant.«
Arracen had to hold back a snort at the last words; that was rich. »And what of… Lint and Nelisa?« Idalis had said he would protect them if Arracen married him. Which must mean-
»You really care for them, don’t you?« Idalis said softly, as if he didn’t know, as if he wasn’t holding their lives over Arracen’s head. »They could go into house arrest with you, if they so choose. Or they could go back to Skalasia. I don’t care, so long as they don’t start trouble here.«
Once more, Arracen found himself thrown off balance.
There was no threat - nothing that would make matters worse, when matters weren’t half as bad as he had feared, and an option that would make matters better.
Well, largely better.
»May I consider?« he finally managed. Part of him doubted he would be given time; surely, Idalis had purposely sprung the proposal on him like this, so he would feel cornered and make an unwise choice.
But part of him didn’t believe that any more.
»Of course.« Idalis smiled, and it looked bafflingly genuine. What did he think he was doing? Did he really believe this was a generous offer? »When you’ve finished your meal, would you like to see your lovers? Take it as a sign of goodwill.«
This one Arracen couldn’t think about twice.
#whump#whump writing#arranged marriage#my writing#royal arms#arracen#idalis#cassio is baaarely in this one but it's important that he is present c: Idalis wouldn't do this without him
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Hey so remember the Shunk post? Welp. Guess what, I’m feeling angsty, and why not. I’m going to expand it in a form of a fanfic (well one-shot ish. So here it is! Keep in mind. I’m open to criticism ^^). For those who haven’t read it and would want to read this instead, this is something inspired by Amphibia season final for season 2. So spoilers for both Amphibia and Good omens season 2 in that order. Don’t say I didn’t warn ya. So hope you enjoy! And I put a song at the bottom to match the energy 🤭.
For Everything…
Tag: Angst, Whump?, Ineffable Husband, Hurt Aziraphale, Hurt Crowley, Muriel is their unofficial official adopted child, Post S2, Metatron, I present you angst for your souls, Open ending, Amphibia inspired, This author was feeling silly, violence.
Trigger warning: blood, mild violence, and strong language.
Rating: This is going to PG-13 territory.
Heaven. The one place all mortals raved about since the dawn of time, Even Belinda Carlisle can tell you that “Heaven is a place on earth”. Oh what a beloved place; in their rose-colored view. Right now, what was once beloved place is decorated by blood and hellfire blazing the place that can rival the severity of the bookshop fire. Yet, the fight still commences while Crowley and Aziraphale hide behind the pillars to get to the elevators without going into the crossfire. Meanwhile Muriel tries to sneak their way the best way possible without provoking any opponent. They stop hiding as seeing no one’s on sight yet the elevator was still closed. It most likely been miracle blocked so no one deserts.
“Crap.” Crowley spoke finally gritting his teeth. “Where is Muriel, I specifically told them to report using these walkie-talkies bull crap.”
Aziraphale open his mouth wanting to make a joke. But knowing where they stand, he bite his tongue.
“Crowley, I’m sure they’re alright.” Aziraphale spoke with a reassuring smile.
“You know. This could’ve been avoided if…” Crowley shook his head. “N-nevermind Ange-Aziraphale.”
He frowned.
“No. Say what you going to say.” Azirpahale said looking at him. “Please.”
Crowley looking away refusing to look at the hazel blue eye. He took a deep breath.
“You’re timing is fucking horrible. But fine, you want me to finish my damn sentence? Alright, this could’ve been avoided if you haven’t left Supreme Archangel Aziraphale.” Crowley hissed, even with the glasses on Aziraphale still feel the daggers shooting at him. “But no, because you decided to just say fuck all those six thousand years and choose this place.”
“Crowley I…”
“No! I’m not done!” Aziraphale quickly silence himself. “You made that choice so easily, like it never matter to you at all. You decided to just throw it all away. You…oh! You rather forgive me than… ahh! Aziraphale do you realize just how fucked up that is?”
“I…Crowley. A-all I wanted was to make this a better place. I-I didn’t want this to happen anymore than you do! I..I just wanted to fix things.”
“Oh Aziraphale, nothing last forever.” he coldly remarked. “And you can’t fix what was already damaged so many time.”
Aziraphale’s eyes became glossy, he’s choking back the tears.
“Crowley…”
“Look. I could say I’ve always admired your need to wanting to fix things. But Aziraphale, when will you learn that your selfless will get you hurt?” Crowley said wiping tears that is steaming down his face. “Azirpahale..I…just wished you’d open your eyes.”
Aziraphale wanted to speak but he wiped his tears as well. He look up at Crowley again.
“Crowley. I wish all of this never happened.. I wish I never hurt you in this way. I wish they’d left us alone. But most of all, I wish I never forgave you.” Azirpahale said emphasizing on forgave. “I just wanted to try.. but at the same time, I never wanted to leave you.”
“Azira-“
“Look, I know full well that I owe you between an apology dance and or an alcoholic breakfast or whatever it is as soon as we touch earth or stop this apocalyptic war going on. Crowley, I never would’ve came here if Metatron said you can come along too. Yet I still went, and you can never forgive me for that. I know it isn’t an easy street at all; and frankly you have all obligation to be mad at me for the stunt I’ve pulled. Oh Crowley, my worse offense it never considered you and-“ he failed holding back his tears. “I never meant to say I forgive you. I wanted to say I l-“
Without a thought, Crowley pulled Aziraphale in a hug abandoning his glasses as they both tearfully cried. He hugged back hesitantly.
“I just don’t want you to get hurt an-“
“Crowley!” Muriel said using that walkie-talkie which cause the pair to immediately separate. Crowley cleared his throat and pulled out his walkie-talkie while aziraphale waits patiently.
“Muriel I told you my code name is Anthony.” He spoke rolling his eyes.
“Sorry! I got excited. I just wanted to say that I finally find that pesky Miracle blocker. Sneaky bastards am I right?” Muriel spoke.
“Language-“ Azirpahale chimed in which against Crowley’s attempt couldn’t help but chuckled. He missed this.
“Oh ‘ello Azirpahale! But yeah I should be coming up!” Muriel said. “Just d-“
An angel came and tackled Crowley to the ground causing the walkie-talkie to drop and break. Aziraphale try to get the angel off of him but the angel punches him square in the face causing aziraphale to hold his bloodied nose.
“Traitors! You two will reap what you have sow for trying to stop the ineffable!” The angel sneered as they raise their sword at Crowley to try to pierce his heart but he was able to grip their arm to restraint them.
“Oh right, so sorry we actually care about the bloody world and aren’t as bloody war hungry like you lot!” Crowley mocked as Azirpahale wrapped his arms around the angel’s neck to get them off giving Crowley time to get back up. Crowley notice that the angel dropped their sword so actively pick it up and piece it through the angels chest.
“You…bastards-“ the angel weakly spoke as Aziraphale let them go. dropping to the ground as blood spill from their chest.
“Crap, they’re coming this way, Crowley, give me the sword I’ll try-“
“No. Aziraphale, I’m not having you defend yourself alone. Not this time.”
“We seriously need to work on our communication skills. Now I know what Muriel was talking about mentioning it, I was going to say give the sword to me so I can defend you. I’m not gonna stay another minute of this place.”
“Oh. Right. That can work too Azirpahale.” Crowley said promptly giving the sword to Azirpahale. “Wait a minute, why can’t I have the sword then?”
“Because I know you can handle it. You always do Crowley.” Azirpahale said with a smile.
“..Thanks Aziraphale.” He said trying hard to not show he was smiling but of course failed.
Soon they heard footsteps which prompt them to start running towards the elevator; when the angel came they tackled them and did their effort to prevent them but with each swing from the sword and Crowley’s powers it made their getaway more smoothly.
Ding!
They look and see the elevator and there comes Muriel waving. But look at the scene as they open their eyes and actively tries to press open to keep it open as Crowley and Aziraphale ran towards it like it was the light at the end of a dark tunnel.
An angel almost tried to grab Crowley but Aziraphale swung his sword as the angel did as well causing their sword to clash together.
“Crowley go! I’ll be right there!”
Crowley hesitated but went towards the elevator. He takes the turn to press the open button as Muriel stand back.
“Wait but we can’t abandon him!?” Muriel yelled shaking.
“We’re not kiddo! Aziraphale!” Crowley yelled towards Muriel and then to Aziraphale as he still is in a battle.
Muriel look intensely seeing Aziraphale fight off the angel, admittedly, the angel did get a good scratch at Aziraphale on his arms and face but Aziraphale swiftly prevail over the angel with their reflex and jabs from the sword. Crowley’s cheek grew redder than his own hair seeing this battle, he’ve seen him fight before but he can’t help but feel admiration toward the fact Aziraphale can in his own word, “be a badass”. He shake his head as Aziraphale finally finished with the final bow to the angel.
“Aziraphale! Would you hurry up?!” Crowley yelled as Muriel hold his arm frighten. But is gripping onto the hope.
“I’m co-“
Shunk!
Muriel shrieks holding their mouth. Crowley eyes widen as he was struck with profound horror. Aziraphale cough up blood for a moment as he slowly look down to see a familiar sword piercing through his chest. He notice the flames anywhere. No…
Even as his vision became to blur he look at the corner of his eyes. His eyes was stunned when seeing Metatron holding the handling of what was once Aziraphale’s sword.
“Now look you’ve made me do.” Metatron said showing no ounce of regret.
Aziraphale look back, he can feel he was going numb, his eyes was blurry so he can’t see the crying Muriel and Crowley’s yellow serpent eyes shedding tears.
“C-Crowley..” he choked up with the strength’s mustering up. “I’m sorry…for everything.”
Aziraphale’s arm shakes as he raise it up, Crowley recognizing what he was doing.
“Angel n-no don’t you dare! Don’t pull this shit now!” Crowley cried out. What kill him more was aziraphale smiling, for what? To reassure thing was still okay? Why the blood hell must he smile?
Aziraphale mouthed something before-
Snap!
Just as he dropped to the floor, the elevator was forcibly closing despite Crowley trying desperate to open them back up yelling his name. Atlas the elevator closed and the button for the ground floor glowed causing the elevator to go down.
“No. No. No.” was all Muriel can voiced trying to press the H button repeatedly but to no avail. “Crowley I’m..”
Muriel look as they were ready to apologize, but they were at a lost of word looking at Crowley. they’ve never saw Crowley smoking this badly before.
#good omens#ineffable husbands#aziraphale#crowley#good omens 2#this is how i cope#angst#whump?#aziracrow#crowley needs a hug#aziraphale needs a hug#everyone needs a hug#i choose violence#and i regret nothing#good omens fandom#good omens season 2#I really am manifesting for season 3 that they will make it and will be together and have everything they want#fanfic#one shot#open ending#good omens 3#good omens season 3#good omens season three#I’m insane for this show it not even funny#good omens muriel#good omens fanfiction#good omens fanfic#for everything
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Small Spaces
Immortal Cannon Fodder masterlist
Taglist: @extrabitterbrain @wolfeyedwitch
Phoenix tries out being in a small space to prepare for their next mission. It doesn't go too well.
1.6k
CWs: claustrophobia, panic attack, flashbacks, past abuse, past child abuse, telepath whump, mentions of human trafficking, emeto, begging
"So I go through the vent and Santhiya will be there to help me down, right?"
"Yep," confirms Kai. "She'll remove the cover from that side and be ready for you to bring the explosives inside. Once Lian and I have cleared the compound and transferred the data, we blow it all to kingdom come."
"Fucking finally," growls Santhiya, and Morfydd nods fiercely. Phoenix is yet to encounter this particular group of traffickers, but they know that Santhiya was instrumental in helping rescue some of their victims from a burning building before she was even officially part of the team. This is personal, especially for her, and Phoenix isn't about to let everyone down. Even if it is a very small space.
It feels weird, actually planning for explosions. For Phoenix at least they're usually on-the-spot things, to get them out of tight spaces. They don't usually involve so much planning.
Although Phoenix may have, admittedly, enjoyed liaising with engineering on the explosives a little too much.
"Earth to Phoenix. Ready to see if you'll fit in the vent?"
Phoenix nods, looking at the long rectangular cardboard tube that's been put together on the living room floor. It's the size of the vent, and it's so small that their chest goes tight just looking at it. It's about the same size as the cupboard in their old team's quarters.
This isn't a good time to try this out. Not after seeing them again, bringing all the memories back. They haven't slept properly since, and that always makes things worse. But it needs to be done.
They take a deep breath and drop to their knees in front of the makeshift vent.
It's not that long. It'll take a few minutes at most. It's okay, they'll be fine.
Phoenix crawls into the tube. It's small, far too small, their skin feels like there's bugs skittering over it, but there's a light at the end and they focus on that. It's light and it's not going away any time soon, no-one's going to take it away as punishment, it'll be fine.
The light dims, and they rub their wrists, sleeves suddenly feeling too tight and far too cold. The light's not gone, it's dimmed, Indigo's not here to take it away, but everything's too hot and too small and it's closing in on them.
Phoenix blinks and they're shivering, freezing cold, the only light moonlight passing through a tiny crack in the wooden planks, and in the morning Alicia will patch up their knees and they'll go to school still freezing inside, and no-one will notice because this is just normal, why would anyone notice? By tomorrow evening everything will be healed and back to normal, but for now they're stuck here, in the dark and cold with the old wood creaking, trees rustling, chest tight and twisted up, unable to breathe properly, the suffocating walls closing in around them.
Phoenix blinks again and they're back in the pitch-black cupboard, insides burning, wrists in cold metal, their breathing's picking up and the walls are closing in and they don't know how long they're going to be punished for, they could die in here with walls like that.
"Please." They don't know who they're begging when there's no-one who'll listen but they do anyway. "Please, let me out. I'm sorry. Please."
_
Kai frowns as Phoenix comes to a halt partway through the cardboard tube. They were making their way through steadily and then they just... stopped.
"Are they okay in there?" he asks Lian, who's down the other end. He peers into the tube with a frown.
"They look fine, but... they're just not moving."
"Give them a couple of minutes. It's only cardboard, but–"
Kai's interrupted by Santhiya throwing up on the carpet. When she looks up, wiping her mouth, her face is chalk-white, eyes red-rimmed and urgent.
"Get them out of there," she croaks. Kai gets up but Morfydd's already moving, tearing apart the cardboard with intense concentration.
Phoenix is huddled up, arms around their legs, head in their knees. Shaking harder than Kai's seen in a while.
Kai glances at Morfydd, who nods, and crouches down in front of Phoenix.
"Hey. I'm gonna pick you up now, nice and easy, that's it, arms around me." He speaks lowly, pulling Phoenix's unresisting arms around his neck and lifting them up against him. They're still far too light, and drenched in sweat. "Let's get you sat down, yeah? Easy does it. You're safe, Phoenix."
"I'm sorry, sir," murmurs Phoenix, mind somewhere else entirely, "I've learned my lesson."
Kai stiffens slightly, then forces himself to relax, sitting on the sofa with Phoenix on his lap, their head buried in his neck. He rubs their back.
"Shh. Easy, you're safe."
Morfydd drapes a blanket over Phoenix's shoulders and Kai looks over at them as they sit on the sofa arm beside him.
"Cheers. How's Santhiya doing?"
"Not too well. Lian's looking after her."
"I'll leave him to it then."
Morfydd reaches up a hand and rests it on Phoenix's arm. "They were begging. I don't think it was loud enough for anyone else to hear, but... do you know who it was?"
"They called me sir when I picked them up, and there's only three people I've ever heard them call that," replies Kai grimly. "The other members of their former team."
"Fuck," breathes Morfydd.
"Yeah."
"Will it be too much for them if I stay? I know it is for Santhiya, but I need to help someone. I can't just sit by while my friends... well."
"No, you can stay. They trust you. I'm going to turn into a wolf, see if that helps. It does sometimes. Stay though."
Morfydd nods. "What about the mission?"
"Well, we've got over a fortnight until the next shipment goes out. That should be enough time to calm Phoenix down and complete the mission. And I was thinking maybe Santhiya could take Phoenix with her? We'd have to test the weight though. I don't know. But they can't go through the vent."
"No." Morfydd holds Phoenix gently as Kai transforms and curls around them. Phoenix, still mostly out of it, snuggles into Kai's fur, burying themself in it. "They really do like it. You're okay, Phoenix. You're safe."
_
Once Phoenix is out of the cardboard tube, Lian takes Santhiya by the arm and leads her over to the opposite sofa. Morfydd arrives soon after with a blanket and a mug of hot chocolate, draping the blanket over her shoulders. Santhiya holds it in a white-knuckled grip, the other hand lifting the mug to her mouth, absently taking a sip. She looks awful, haunted, ill, in a way that Lian's rarely seen.
"Santhiya?"
"They're so scared," she says quietly, almost in a monotone. "So scared. Their mind was screaming. I haven't had my defences falter so badly in a long time, since... well, you know... but they smashed through them all. They're so scared. So much. It's them I've been hearing at night sometimes, I recognise it now. The fear, the pain... how do they stand it?" She blinks, eyes bright with unshed tears. "How do they stand it all?"
"That's a question only Phoenix can answer," says Lian. "Along with some others." He rubs Santhiya's back and she sways slightly, looking at Lian with more focus. "How are you feeling now? Any quieter?"
"A little. Still making me nauseous."
"Hey, Kai, are you and Phoenix going to stay here a while?" he asks, not looking away from Santhiya.
Kai gives an affirmative yip.
"Okay. I'm taking Santhiya somewhere quieter." He helps Santhiya to stand, blanket still wrapped around her shoulders, and puts his arm around her waist to hold her steady. "Let's go to your room, come on."
Santhiya nods, putting one foot in front of the other until they reach her bedroom, Lian sitting down with her on the edge of the bed.
"Better?"
"Yeah. I can think again now." The colour's slowly coming back into her cheeks, and she drums her fingers on Lian's leg. "I think... maybe I should've guessed it was them, waking me, after what happened last week. They told you, right?"
"About bumping into their team downstairs? Yeah. No wonder they're getting nightmares strong enough to break through your defences. I mean, only Kai knows what actually happened with their team, but it was clearly bad. Kai wouldn't have spent so much time away if it wasn't."
Santhiya snorts wetly. "I think 'bad' is an understatement. Their reaction... I never want to see them that small again."
Lian nods, handing his friend a tissue. "How are you, though? How's your head?"
"Sore. Fuzzy. Phoenix's mind was a lot. I can still hear their screams."
"Let's get you some painkillers then. Do you want me to stay?"
Santhiya nods, swallowing the pills. "I need a distraction. And I want to try building up my defences more. Not right now, but... later. That sounds bad. I just... it's too much."
Lian shakes his head. "It's not bad, Santh. You shouldn't have to hear people in distress when you're not prepared for it, even if they're your friends. We can certainly work on that."
"It doesn't seem right. I can hear people's worst thoughts but I can't do anything to help. It's not fair."
Lian sighs. He's heard many variations on those words in his time mentoring Santhiya. "One person can't do everything. Just knowing people are in trouble, telling us that, that can be enough. Besides, with Phoenix specifically, your presence as their friend is enough to help."
"But they're so– so hurt. How can just my presence help so much? It doesn't seem right. They can't be that fond of me."
"They are. Believe me, Santh, I've seen the way they look at you. They really, really are."
#whump#whump writing#claustrophobia#flashbacks#past abuse#past minor whump#telepath whump#telepathy#emeto#begging#whumpee and caretaker#hero whump#hero whumpee#hero whumper#immortal whump#immortal whumpee#caretaker turned whumpee#recovery whump#lady whump#immortal cannon fodder#phoenix oc#kai oc#morfydd oc#santhiya oc#lian oc#phoenix likes explosives#like a lot#bbys gotta have a conversation soon about how its Not Normal to be locked in small dark spaces whenever they fuck up#or dont
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