#whumpuaryno14

[whump-and-other-misfortunes]

Whumpuary 2024 Day 14

14. (Jan 27-28) Flinching / Breakdown / Sleep Deprivation 

cw past trauma, implied noncon/torture, hurt/comfort, aftermath of whump

“You’re slower than usual,” Hero teased when they pinned Villain to the wall. “Lost your edge after that little vacation you took?” 

Villain was breathing heavily. Their hands grasped at Hero’s, which were fisted in the front of their suit, but Villain lacked their typical strength. “Wasn’t a vacation, you jerk,” they huffed. “And I’m doing my best here.” 

Hero pulled one of their hands back, and their heart jumped when Villain flinched away from them; they’d never reacted like that before. The instinctual fear was clearly visible in their eyes.  

“Whoa, hey,” Hero said softly. “I was just gonna—your mask is slipping.” 

Villain looked down, frowning. “Sorry. I just...go ahead.” 

Hero raised their hands slowly and adjusted Villain’s mask, noting the sharp intake of breath when Hero’s fingers grazed their cheek. As they put it back in place, Hero could see a dark bruise hiding under the mask. The slightest bit of purple spread up their cheekbone. 

Villain was trembling when Hero stepped back. 

“Are you okay?” Hero asked. Logically, they knew they should take advantage of Villain’s weakness and bring them in. But they just couldn’t bring themself to be that cruel. 

“When I was gone this week,” Villain whispered, “I was...Supervillain took me hostage. I’ll spare you the details but...they did some shit to me I wouldn’t even do to my enemies.” 

Hero felt their heart ache at the admission and the pained expression in Villain’s eyes when they looked back up. “I’m sorry, I—I had no idea.” 

“Not your fault,” Villain said with a shrug. They tried to force a smile as well, but it didn’t quite work. “But it messed me up pretty good. I can’t sleep. I can’t move without remembering their hands on me.” 

A sick feeling curled in Hero’s stomach as they imagined what the normally collected Villain must have been through to have them on the verge of tears at the memory. They slowly reached out, giving Villain enough time to stop them—but when they didn’t, Hero pulled them into an embrace. “It’s over,” they muttered into Villain’s hair. “You're safe now.” 

Their words seemed to open the floodgates, and suddenly Villain broke down. Hero didn’t know what to do, so they just held their nemesis as they cried. The fact that they’d been in the middle of a fight passed through Hero’s mind, but it didn’t matter now. They were a hero—their job was to help people. Even if those people regularly made their life hell. 

“I’m sorry,” Villain choked out. “This is pathetic. And I—I deserved it.” 

“No one deserves to be hurt like that,” Hero said, rubbing their back in soothing circles. 

Villain tried to steady their breathing as they looked up at Hero, eyes glistening with tears. “Thank you. Just—give me a minute, and we can get back to it.” 

“What do you say we get a rain check,” Hero asked with a small smile, “and you let me buy you a coffee instead?” 

Villain sniffled and rolled their eyes. “As long as you promise to reschedule. Because I was looking forward to kicking your ass.” 

Hero laughed. “Okay, deal.” 

Although the coffee may not have truly fixed anything, it was a welcomed comfort. 

taglist: @morning-star-whump

[celtic-crossbow]

Whumpuary Day 27-28

Prompt: Stabbed (alt)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Blood; Injury

gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams

You had seen some great plans in your time after the apocalypse. Majestic strategies that led your group to victory and survival. 

And you had seen some terrible plans. Inefficient calculations that brought more wounds and heartaches for the lot of you. 

This? This was neither of those. 

This was a fuckery. A terrible horrible no good very bad fuckery of epic proportions. 

So as you wrestled a living man wearing the skin of the dead for control of your knife, you couldn’t help but wonder how many of you were going to pay for this monstrosity of fucked-upness. 

When you couldn’t seem to get the upper hand, you went for the lower blow, bringing your knee up into the man’s groin and rolling him off of you just in time for the incoming walkers to take over. “Fuck.” You breathed, struggling to your feet. You needed to find the others, to find Daryl. Wiping away the blood from your nose on the back of your hand, you made your way further up the hill. The walkers were occupied but they wouldn’t stay that way long. 

Daryl was fighting two whisperers, kicking one off balance to send them tumbling down past you and into the herd below. You picked up the pace, aiming to help so that the two of you could regroup with the rest of your party. 

It happened so quickly that you weren’t sure you had time to take a breath. The archer’s knife sank into the skull of the man he fought, not seeing yet another rounding the tree. 

“Daryl!”

He pulled his blade free, his arm still in motion but his midriff was unprotected. You could have sworn you felt the pain in your own stomach. You were running, wishing to hell you had your gun. Too far, I’m too far. 

His own knife had been dropped, both hands around the wrist of his attacker. If he held him there, the blade wouldn’t go any deeper. But the fatigue on his face was evident even from the distance that still separated you. 

Stopping, you took a breath and flipped your knife, calling upon every lesson Daryl had given you. If you missed— no, you wouldn’t miss. 

The weapon whipped through the air and met its mark, the whisperer dropping and pulling the knife with him. 

“Fuck!” It took much longer than you liked to finally reach him, his black shirt already saturated before you pushed your hands down on the wound. “I’ve got you. Keep your eyes on me.” Daryl didn’t respond, sweaty and panting, but watching you as you snatched the radio from his belt. “Carol? Aaron? Fucking anyone?!”

“Y/N!”

“Michonne! Thank go— Daryl’s down! The herd’s too close! I need help!”

“Where are you?”

“Fourth mile east from the rendezvous point. Please, Michonne!”

“We’re on our way.”

“Hear that? They’re coming. So don’t do something stupid like die, okay?” You peeled off the flannel over your tank top and pressed it against the wound, wincing at Daryl’s pained groan. 

“Nah…ya have… all the stupid. Ain’t none…left for me.” He coughed, but there was no blood. You refused to believe anything else other than taking it to mean there was no internal bleeding. 

“That’s right. So, you gotta stick around and make sure I don’t do anything stupid, okay?” He clenched his teeth and grabbed your hand over the flannel, the blood making his skin slip across yours. 

“‘M sure as…hell gonna try, sunshine.”

You laughed wetly, the taste of your tears salty on your tongue. “Have you met me? Not a damn thing sunny about me.” 

Daryl grunted and moaned but then settled again. “Shuddup. Eye’a…the beholder…an’ all that shit.” You leaned forward with another laugh, pressing your forehead against his. 

“Daryl Dixon, are you saying I’m pretty?” 

His hand shook when he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, dampening it red. “Eh…you’re alright, I… I guess.” His eyes were closing even as you called his name. You could hear your friends raised voices and knew they’d be able to help. Saddiq was with them. He’d save Daryl. You had to keep him conscious. Biting your lip, you pressed hard against the wound until he arched with a shout. 

“Sorry.”

“What’s a guy…gotta do to…get a nap ‘round here?”

“How’re you feeling, Bowstrings?” You beamed at him from over the back of the couch. Daryl was benched for at least a couple of weeks— even if you both knew you’d be saving his ass in less than one. 

“Like I got stabbed in the gut.” He replied flatly, fingers tapping anxiously against his chest. 

“You could almost pass for a real person in a t-shirt and flannels.”

“S’ comfortable.” He grumbled. You rounded the couch and sat on the arm, just above his head. 

“Good. You deserve comfortable.” He tilted back his head to look up at you while you swept back his hair. “What?”

“You deserve comfortable too.” 

Why did he look so adorable when he blushed?

“Would you still think I’m pretty in flannels and a t-shirt?” You stood up to go grab his antibiotic and some water, almost missing his muttered reply. 

“Wear a garbage bag an’ I’d still think ya was pretty, sunshine.”

@thegeorgiahuntsman @livingdeadblondequeen @feral4daryl @deansapplepie @walker-bait-1973 @lazyneonrabbitt @bizquake @littlelovingideas @ririi-3 @ankhmutes @blackvelveteen1339 @sokkasimp101 @lehhos @loganlostitall @callmeyn @she-who-writes-for-multi-fandoms @gutsby @isakyakiisak @in-this-minute @eljaynosine_triphosphate @abbyreedus @wifeof-barnes @bigbaldheadname @bananafire11 @graciepies @georgiadixon @esgoraths @hutchersonsgurl @she-could-never @Kenzimae67 @nessa-mayfield @ilovedilfs4eversthings @KatelynAngel @richardsamboramylove55 @m0ss-g0blin @annhells @abi67sblog @nessieart @imgeorgeclooney @brinteylovesaliens @eduardast4rgirl @ass-butt-themusical @daryldixmedown @willowaftxn83-87 @ashtonbabe @atyourmomshouse01 @dixonzzgirl @unhingedbiatch @bultamer @lumimon47 @easystreet07

[melanie-ohara]

A Hunt for Gold

Whumpuary2024, Bonus Day - Prompt: Flinching

Shin struggles to find her place with Sabine and Ahsoka

That's right, there's more! At this point I am mostly just using the prompts, this doesn't technically count as a challenge entry

AO3 Here

Sabine sat at the desk in Huyang's workshop and carefully soldered the powered plates back into her beskar's harness. She was right: the damage was too severe to be properly repaired and unless she could somehow build a forge out of twigs and shrubbery she couldn't reclaim the metal to start again. The remnants might give her enough protection from a glancing blaster bolt, but that was it. She had patched it together as best she could, and for now its appearance reminded her a little too much of Thrawn's reanimated storm troopers. She shuddered at the image. A new paint job would hide the scars, at least. Only her helmet and vambraces were still intact enough to stand up to a lightsaber - but now that Shin had started to settle in on the ship - uneasily, but it was a start - she wasn't sure how much she needed to worry about lightsabers any more. Sabine leaned back in the chair and her hand dropped to rest on her stomach, above the stab wound Shin had gifted her when they first met. Now we match, she thought to herself. 

"I want to dye my hair."

Sabine jumped at the sound of Shin's voice. She had been so wrapped up in herself, she didn't even notice the door opening. Now that Shin had properly recovered from the surgery and didn't need the compression vest any more she had started wearing whatever she could find that was clean, which today was most of Sabine's training clothes with one of Ahsoka's robes draped artlessly over the top for warmth.

"Um… okay," she said, taken aback. 

Shin paused and looked down at the workbench and Sabine's armour. "You're busy," she said, and turned to go.

"No," Sabine said quickly, standing up. "I have time, I mean." Shin didn't like being cooped up and it was rare to catch her in such a good mood. She was quickly learning to make the best of them.

"Your armour," Shin said, but Sabine waved her hand dismissively. 

"It can wait." Shin stepped aside so Sabine could leave the room and lead the way back to her cabin. "Are we just bleaching your roots, or did you have a colour in mind?" 

Shin touched the braid that hung down over shoulder, her fingers playing over the gemstones woven into it. "Green," she said.

Shin sat in the chair at Sabine's desk and talked more about how she wanted it to look while Sabine mixed the dyes and loaded them into applicator capsules for her spray tool. She got to work on her dark roots first. Shin shuddered a little as the first puff of cold pigment made contact with the top of her head and tensed as Sabine gently combed it in, but she settled in after a moment and let her work.

"What's with the gems?" Sabine asked, to distract herself from the strangely intimate feeling of carefully brushing bleach-white into Shin's hair. 

"Baylan gave them to me," Shin said. "I didn't know what they were at first."

Sabine watched the teeth of the comb part Shin's hair and slip easily through the strands. "And what are they?"

Shin didn't answer for a long time, and Sabine saw her hand travel up to the crystals again. She rolled one between her finger and thumb for a while like she was thinking. "Something he gave up."

Sabine let her have the cryptic answer and backed off. She knew Shin didn't really like talking about Baylan - his leaving hurt much more than her stomach wound, and Sabine didn't want to push her. Instead, she slid the bleach dye out of her spray tool, replaced the nozzle and picked up the cartridge of green dye. She passed Shin a towel to put over her shoulders to protect the tank top she was wearing, though it belonged to Sabine and she wasn't too worried about it getting a burst of colour. With anyone else, Sabine might have draped the towel herself, but Shin didn't like to be touched.

"I'm surprised you're letting me do this," she said, and immediately wished she'd kept it to herself.

"Why?"

Sabine shrugged and fiddled unnecessarily with the settings. "I just… well, you don't like being touched, that's all."

Shin said nothing, and Sabine cleared her throat awkwardly. Just get on with it and shut up, she thought to herself, and started to carefully coat the lower strands of Shin's hair with a faint mist of green. She hadn't dyed hair this way since before the war, when she had given herself a purple ombré in the Ghost's refresher. Hera had been furious at the mess, but she had a lot more experience now - as well as better tools. While the dye was still wet, she back-combed it quickly but carefully into Shin's hair, varying the lengths of her strokes so the dye reached higher in some places than others, so the fading colour didn't look too neat. That had been her own idea: Shin was too wild for the Coruscant-salon perfect look Sabine had been trying for as a teenager. 

Working on Shin's hair felt like painting. Like art. There was the same connection she felt to the canvas and the paint, only this time it was a living, breathing person under the hissing tool. She wanted to touch her, and comb her hair with fingers instead. To rub the dye into individual strands, one by one, until it was exactly how she envisioned it.

"I don't mind you," Shin said suddenly. It had been at least five minutes since either of them had last spoken.

"Sorry?" 

"Touching." Shin's hands were in her lap and twisting over each other awkwardly. "It's okay, if it's you."

Sabine almost dropped the spray tool, and she was glad Shin was facing away and couldn't see the blush on her face. "Oh," she managed dumbly, and then, "good." 

"Yes," Shin said. "Otherwise my roots would still be showing."

Sabine wasn't sure if it was a joke - Shin delivered every word with the same inflection, whether it was a death threat or asking for a drink - but she let out an awkward chuckle. She brushed at Shin's hair a few more times, and then put her tools down to examine her work. 

"How do I look?" Shin asked, shaking her hair out and then rolling her neck to ease the tension from sitting still for so long.

Sabine stepped out from behind the chair and looked at her. "Beautiful," She said. It was the truth - the green highlights had an ethereal gleam amongst the pale blonde that made her eyes shimmer and her skin shine. The pale flush her words brought to her cheeks made for a very pretty contrast too. Sabine shook herself and picked up a hand-mirror to show Shin the back, and she nodded approvingly. Her oh-so-rare, oh-so-endearing smile spread on her lips and it was so infectious Sabine couldn't help smiling back.

"I like it," Shin said. 

Before she had even thought about it being a bad idea, Sabine had leaned over her head and gently placed a kiss on Shin's forehead. She flinched like Sabine had just slapped her and almost tripped over her feet in her rush to get out of the chair and then out of the room.

"Wait!" Sabine called out, but by the time she had followed her out Shin had disappeared down the ship's ramp and into the Noti camp below. She was about to run after her when Ahsoka cleared her throat. Sabine hadn't even noticed her, but she was once again standing in the doorway of her room. 

"Trouble?" she asked, one of her not-quite-eyebrows raised. 

Sabine made a face and awkwardly clasped her hands in front of her. "I may have done something," she admitted.

"Like what?" 

Sabine braced herself. "Like kiss Shin."

She didn't know exactly how she expected Ahsoka to react. Anger seemed unlikely, but not disappointment or frustration. She had taught her the Jedi code, and how it forbade attachment, and Sabine knew this looked like another of her arrogant rebellions. 

Ahsoka smiled with a strange, almost knowing look in her eyes. "Are you going after her?" she asked.

Sabine frowned. "You're not… annoyed?" she asked. "The code - "

"My Master was married," Ahsoka interrupted. "His Master had a son nobody knew about, and I… well, let's not go into that now."

"Oh, we're going into that now," Sabine said, a little stunned by the idea that the stoic Ahsoka Tano might have dalliances in her past. 

Ahsoka shook her head. "Not now." There was a hint of sadness in her gaze that convinced Sabine to drop it. Instead she dropped into a chair at the centre table and put her head in her hands with a sigh.

"I scared her off," she said, pulling her head up to look at Ahsoka. "I don't think she'll want to see me." 

Ahsoka pushed herself off from the doorframe and started towards the exit ramp. 

"Whoa, hey!" Sabine said, getting up like she was going to stop her somehow. "What are you doing?"

Ahsoka didn't say anything, just dropped down off the ramp to the ground below.

*

She thought Shin might have walked off, maybe down towards the river or out towards the mountains, but Ahsoka instead found her sat almost exactly in the middle of the Noti camp. They had all shut up their pods and powered them down, making her seem like the only living thing for miles around.

"Everything okay?" Ahsoka asked as she approached.

"They're all afraid of me," Shin said. Ahsoka looked around at the deserted camp and nodded a little. The Noti had locked themselves in as soon as they saw her.

"You were trying to kill them not long ago," she pointed out as she sat down next to her.

"Not them," Shin said. "That was the bandits. I only wanted Sabine."

Ahsoka looked across at her, taking in her new hair colour and the regret in her pale eyes. "Well you've got her now," she said. "Maybe not the way you expected."

"I didn't mean to run," Shin admitted. She picked at the scrubby ground in front of her and sighed. "I wish I didn't." 

Ahsoka resisted the instinct to lay a hand on her shoulder, the way she would have done for Barriss all those years ago. "This isn't training," she said. Though she wasn't sure how Baylan had brought up his padawan, she knew he was a dyed-in-the-wool temple Jedi, and suspected he had driven her just as hard as Anakin had her. Or Luminara had Barriss. "It's hard to see at first, but it's different." 

"I don't know what you mean," Shin said. 

"You don't have to push yourself," Ahsoka explained weakly. She was not the person to be giving this talk, and she could imagine the infuriating way Anakin would smirk at her inability to communicate. "Whatever is between you and Sabine isn't a challenge to overcome, it's not… a trial to endure." Ahsoka sighed. "I'm no good at this," she admitted. 

"No," Shin agreed, and Ahsoka smiled. Her honesty was refreshing, and reminded her not to try and make everything a lesson.

"Sabine doesn't want to rush you," she said. "She just doesn't know how not to rush herself."

Shin plucked a blade of grass and flicked it away. "I don't know how to feel this way," she admitted. "It's never happened before."

Ahsoka felt a sad smile creep over her face. She knew how that felt: there had been nothing in her training to prepare her for how it felt to see Barriss smile at a joke, and her training was all she knew. Before she had understood it, everything had changed. "Sabine knows," she said. "And you'll get the hang of it."

Shin stood up and stretched. "I'm going for a walk," she announced. "Tell Sabine…" 

She trailed off, unsure, but Ahsoka nodded. "I will," she said. 

Shin stared off at the ship for a while, and Ahsoka wondered what she was thinking behind her glassy, green-blue eyes. Without another word, she turned away and walked off. 

[suspensefulpen]

Whumpuary Day 14: Drugged

TW: Noncon Drugging, Multiple Whumpers, Lab Rat Whumpee, Blood

@whumpuary

The world slowly began to spin to Taylor. They had no idea what was going on but they felt oddly calm. They could barely see the two doctors standing in front of them. Whatever drug they’d given them this time was really working on Taylor. 

“How you feeling?” Lee asked. 

“Fee… Feeling?” Taylor squinted, hoping it would make the world turn right side up. 

“Yes. How are you feeling?” They repeated. 

“I feel… Why is it moving? The room…” 

“I guess that’s a good thing then, huh?” Sydney laughed. Lee frowned at them before turning back to Taylor. They held up one finger. 

“How many can you see?” 

Taylor raised their head, squinting even more. “Two?” 

Lee hummed before writing on a sheet of paper. Sydney stepped closer to the table they were attached to. They pressed down on a bandaged wound. “Can you feel this?” 

Taylor frowned slightly. “Why are you…pushing down on me like that?” 

Lee hummed again, scribbling even faster on the paper as Sydney smirked. They picked up a small knife and ever so slightly pierced Taylor’s torso, drawing blood. “What about that?” 

They only cringed at the sensation. “What are you doing to me? How did your finger do that?” 

“Taylor, that’s not my finger.” Sydney pulled the knife away, showing them. They stared confusedly at them before looking down at their torso. “How did… How did that happen?” They asked in a calmed tone. 

Lee’s pen lifted from the paper as the doctors shared a look. They gave each other wicked grins. 

“I think we should save this mixture. Just in case we need it another day.”

[its-my-whump]

whumpuary2024

Jan 27-28

Flinching

@whumpuary

Only moving up his hand fast, was enough to make whumpee flinch. "Oh, what's wrong? Are you scared of me already?"

A gloved hand cupped whumpees jaw and forcefully turned his head towards the perpetrator. His cheeks were squeezed painfully into an unwillig grimace.

"And I haven't even started yet. This is going to be so much fun, don't you think?"

The grip against his chin got even stronger and the gloved hand started to move whumpees head up and down to minick his approval.

"Aww, you're so sweet. And already so obidiant." The perpetrator smirked and wiped of one single tear trailing down the pale face of the captive with a move of his gloved thumb.

My masterlist

[medusapelagia]

Running From The Daylight - Part 14

Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8,  Part 9,  Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13,, Part 14, (coming soon Part 15)

Written for @whumpuary

Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Prompt: Breakdown WT: sick character, mention of surgery, medical procedures, mention of possible amputation (just mentioned) Words: 890

As soon as Eddie and Wayne get into the hospital, Robin runs toward them, hugging Eddie so tight that she he feels his back almost crack but he doesn’t complain, holding on to her like she was a life jacket.

“Eddie, oh my god, Eddie! Are you alright? What the hell happened? Wayne told us there was an avalanche but the news information was confusing and Steve didn’t answer his phone, and he always does or at least he calls me back! And you weren’t answering either! And I was so fucking worried!” She rambles and Eddie lets her talk while they hug, but as soon as she stops he asks the question that is killing him “Where is he?”

“Still in surgery.” Hopper replies, getting closer “The wound on the head wasn’t too bad, but the leg was broken pretty badly and they are trying to fix it.”

“But they will, right? He will not… he will not lose his leg, right?” The boy asks, terrified, and the silence that he gets as a reply is enough to make the last of his self-control crumble, and he falls to the ground having a full breakdown and screaming that it’s all his fault, that Steve will hate him for it and that he will lose the only good thing he had in life.

“You are exhausted, kid, you have to rest a little. Let’s get a room in a hotel and you’ll see that in the morning everything will look better.” His uncle tries to comfort him, but Eddie is adamant that he is not going to leave the hospital until he has some news about Steve.

He starts to walk up and down from the waiting area to the reception until a nurse calls a doctor.

“Listen…” The doctor says, staring at him seriously.

“Eddie.”

“Eddie. Your friend is in good hands, whatever can be done will be done, you don’t have to worry about that.” He tells him, and if it should sound comforting it definitely doesn’t.

“You don’t get it! I was the one that made a splint with a fucking broken ski! I had never done something like that before! What if I fucked up?”

The doctor sighs and puts a hand on Eddie’s shoulder “Kid, it was an emergency situation and you did the best you could, ok? Now the surgeon is doing his best to fix that broken leg and I want to assure you once more that he will do everything he can to save that boy’s leg, ok? Now take a deep breath and follow me into the examination room.”

“I’m fine!” Eddie insists once more, but the doctor stares at him unconvinced.

“Come on, kid, there is nothing you can do right now, at least let the doctor examine you, ok? If not for you, do it for me. I’m already worried about my other kid and I don’t think my old heart can take it.” Wayne tries to convince his nephew and the boy finally agrees, but before following the doctor he turns toward Robin, the only person he can trust “As soon as you hear something about Steve you come to tell me, ok? Good news, bad news, I don’t care, I want to know!”

“Promise!” She replies convinced, even if Hopper sighs and pinches his nose while Eddie finally gets into the examination room with his uncle.

“I’m not a kid anymore, Wayne. I can handle an examination.” He replies tiredly, but the old man doesn’t move, his eyes pinned on his kid.

“Any concern you would like to address?” The doctor asks, putting on a pair of blue latex gloves and Eddie shivers for a moment. He always tried to avoid doctors: it’s not that he is scared, it's just that they make him… uncomfortable, ok?

Luckily Wayne is at his side, putting a warm hand on his shoulder “Does something hurt?” He asks him softly and Eddie shakes his head.

“I’m cold and I’m tired but I’m fine! It’s Steve...”

“We are here for you, boy. Let me examine you and then I’ll let you get back to your friends, ok?”

Eddie finally releases the tight grip he had on the thermal blanket and lets the doctor examine him quickly, when the man concludes that, apart from some moderate frostbite and a little sleep deprivation, Eddie is fine, Wayne takes a big breath of relief.

“I kept telling you.” The boy protests while getting dressed.

“I know but I feel better knowing that a doctor has seen you, is that so bad?” Wayne asks him, giving him back his thermal blanket and walking back to the waiting area where Robin and Hopper are drinking a coffee from the coffee machine.

“No news?” Eddie asks, sitting next to Robin who offers him her coffee, he takes a sip and grimaces at the taste “This has nothing to do with Steve’s coffee.”

“I will never admit it, but Steve’s coffee is the best.” The girl replies with a wet laugh, then she adds “You know I’m not letting him go on a vacation at least for a year, right? The only place the two of you will be allowed to go is our coffee shop.” She tells him, and he smiles at her, grateful for her constant presence in Steve’s life.

“Deal.”

[alpaca-clouds]

Whumpuary 14: Sleepless

Prompts: Breakdown, Sleep Deprivation

The second to last story for @whumpuary and now we are finally going back to Astarion/Tav in the post-canon stuff.

Sleepless

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Ship: Astarion/Tav Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Once more, Astarion wakes from a nightmare. Once more, Tav is there to care for him.

[exquisiteagony]

the final whumpuary prompt is done! and it’s skydweller ofc

[snakebites-and-ink]

Whumpuary #14: Flinching / Breakdown / Sleep Deprivation + #15: You're safe / Aftermath / Touch starved

CW: References to past abuse

Whumpee’s recent medical treatment had been a complete success, and the wounds they had from Whumper were healing nicely. Physically, their recovery was going wonderfully.

Mentally, it was a bit rockier. They were more anxious than they’d ever been before the captivity, and found themself getting upset by little things that weren’t actually a big deal, but reminded them of Whumper in some way or another.

And they were jumpy.

More than once, they’d startled when Caretaker entered the room they were in. They’d tensed at sounds made by harmless birds scratching around outside. Their subconscious saw Whumper in every unidentified disturbance, sending their heart racing with fear.

Even kindness could trigger the response. All it took was being caught unprepared once, and Whumpee flinched when Caretaker laid a gentle hand on them.

Some animal part of their brain said that the touch was hostile. That being reached for was danger, that they had to watch out. They needed to keep themself safe.

They were safe, but they flinched anyway.

Caretaker withdrew their hand, looking concerned.

“Sorry,” Whumpee said ashamedly.

Caretaker gave them a sad smile. “It’s alright. I understand.”

Whumpee let out a sad sigh. “Healing or not, Whumper left a mark on me. It’s hard not to react like they’re still around me,” they admitted.

“I know. You’re probably going to have to deal with the aftermath of what Whumper did to you for quite a while. But I believe in you. You’ll be able to get better as long as you don’t give up. I know it.”

“You really think so?”

“Mm-hmm. Recovery might not always be the easiest path, but you’ll get there. And I’ll be here to help you along the way.”

“Thanks, Caretaker.”

[kyanako5972]

Whumpuary 14

Flinching

Dunno how perspective is supposed to go, but the hand is supposed to be on the same plane as Weave's head. The hand is just that big.

[melanie-ohara]

I'll Be Your All For Now - Chapter 2

Whumpuary2024, Day 28 - (Alt) Prompt: "Let me See"

Callista and Cecelia are left to pick up the pieces after the collapse of the Loyalist Conspiracy

AO3 Here

Wallace was a bastard right to the end, and this time his cruelty had saved her. Even after Callista had taken to protecting her, Wallace had tried to make her life as hard as he could and the last thing he said to her - maybe his last words to anyone - was that she shouldn't bother coming out to the courtyard with them, because she didn't deserve the praise. She had watched from the window in the door of the bar as Havelock shot him, clapping a hand over her mouth to stifle her scream. When the Admiral turned the pistol on Lydia, Cecelia thought she might plead, or remind him of the time they spent together. 

"Screw yourself, Farley," Lydia said, and died.

Havelock opened the breach of his pistol to reload as he advanced on Callista, and Cecelia even considered trying to rush out and stop him. Martin and Pendleton where there too, though, and she doubted she would get very far.

"The debt I owe to your uncle," Havelock said to Callista, "is beyond measure." He leveled the pistol at her forehead, and she stared him down. Cecelia could feel her heartbeat in her throat. She couldn't watch, but neither could she turn away. 

Havelock sighed and lowered the gun. "Take her to the tower," he ordered, and Cecelia breathed out. Callista might be safe for now, but she wasn't - she had to get out of the pub before anyone saw her, and from what Havelock had said before, the City Watch were on their way. She sprinted for the stairs and took them two at a time to the servants' quarters to grab the key from under her bunk. Martin and Callista would be on the staircase by now and the only other door led back to the courtyard and the barrel of Havelock's gun, so instead Cecelia slipped out of the window. The balcony on the other side was high, but she could climb down the side and make a run for the house across the street. She scuffed her knees on her way, but she made it to safety just in time - as she was closing the door behind her, the quarantine barrier started to open and the Watch poured in. Cecelia ducked down by one of the grimy windows and watched. She had no idea what to do.

*

By the time Callista saw Corvo, it was too late for the Watch officers on the grounds. She watched from the window as he slipped silently from the pub into Piero's workshop and then back again. She wasn't sure what he was doing, but she knew it wouldn't be long before he freed her, so she readied the flare launcher for contacting Samuel. By the time it was ready, Corvo and the two natural philosophers had fired the advanced arc pylon and everyone in uniform was stretched out on their back. Callista couldn't tell if they were alive or dead and when Corvo unlocked the door she couldn't bring herself to ask.

He was going after Emily, of course, but before he left he told her Cecelia was safe. She had intended to stay with Piero and Sokolov, but once she knew where to find her she abandoned the two of them and rushed down to the house across the street and hammered on the door. 

"It's me!" she called out. "It's Callista!"

She almost fell across the threshold as the door opened suddenly. Cecelia grabbed her into a hug before Callista had even had time to see her.

"Corvo found you," she said, the relief in her voice so tangible it made Callista blush a little. 

"He told me where you were," Callista said. Cecelia's curly hair tickled her nose and she smiled until Cecelia stepped away from the hug - far too soon for Callista's liking. 

Cecelia's eyes looked red and swollen, but she was pleased to see a glimmer of happiness in them. It quickly dimmed when she noticed the blood on Callista's face. She reached out a hand and pulled her inside, shutting and locking the door behind them. She led her to a chair in the other room and sat her down, ignoring Callista's protests.

"Let me see, miss," she said. 

"It's nothing," Callista replied, trying to wave her away. "Martin hit me, that's all." It had throbbed for a while, and seeing the blood pouring down her face in the mirror had been frightening, but the bleeding had stopped quickly and now it didn't even hurt much. 

"Let me see ," Cecelia insisted, and Callista sighed and nodded. 

Tenderly, Cecelia brushed Callista's hair away from the cut with her fingers and probed the edges with her fingers, apologising whenever Callista winced - no matter how hard she tried to hide it. Finally, she stood up straight and nodded.

"It's not deep, but I'd like to clean it."

Callista wasn't sure, but it felt like Cecelia was asking for permission. She liked to think they were friends now, but there was still a class divide between them that Cecelia found very hard to cross.

"Please," Callista said, and Cecelia hurried off. She returned a moment later with a damp cloth that felt pleasantly warm when she touched it to Callista's skin.

"There," Cecelia said soothingly, and Callista felt herself blush again. After so long looking after her, protecting her from Master Higgins' ugliest punishments, it felt strange for Cecelia to be looking after her. 

"You've done this before," Callista said. Cecelia lifted grubby fingertips to Callista's chin and tilted her head into the light a little so she could see better. 

"My brother," Cecelia replied. "Always getting into fights. I used to clean his wounds and stitch his cuts, when I could."

"A dutiful sister," Callista commented with a smile.

"That's me, miss," she said, and wiped a speck of blood from Callista's cheek. 

"What happened to him?" she asked, without thinking. Poor families like Cecelia's stayed together through anything, unless something forced them apart.

"He died. Before the plague. I'm grateful for that," she said. 

"I'm… so sorry, Cecelia."

She shrugged, and put down the cloth. "It's okay," she said. "There, now it won't get infected."

Callista reached out for her hand. "Thank you," she said. 

"It's lucky you don't need stitches, miss," Cecelia replied, stepping away from her hand and not looking her in the eyes. "I can't find a needle in this place."

Callista stood up and straightened out her clothes. She wanted to apologise properly, but now wasn't the time. "What are we going to do?" she asked.

Cecelia stepped over to the doorframe and peered out of the window towards the pub. "I have no idea," she mumbled.

"Corvo will find Lady Emily," Callista said, sounding more sure than she was. "Havelock won't be able to stop him."

Cecelia turned to look at her. "Who winds up on the throne doesn't matter much when you're in the gutter, miss," she pointed out. "We should be more worried about the rats, and the Watch out there."

Callista nodded. "Of course, you're right," she said. "I'm not very good at this," she admitted. It hadn't felt it, but compared to Cecelia her life had been easy until now. Even fleeing her old life for a grimy tavern on the river hadn't changed her quality of life that much, but now she was truly thrown out of society and left to fend for herself.

"Don't worry, miss," Cecelia said with a smile. "I'll look after you. I owe you, after all."

"You really don't, Cecelia," Callista said. 

"You looked after me," Cecelia reminded her.

Callista went to stand by her in the doorway and watch the street. The City Watch officers were starting to wake up from whatever it was Corvo had done to them, and they were gathering outside waiting for someone in charge to tell them where to go next. 

"The only person I have left in the world is my uncle," Callista said suddenly. She wanted to tell Cecelia she cared about her, and wanted her to be in her life, but she couldn't find the right words yet.

There was quiet for a moment before Cecelia replied. "My sister might be alive still," she mused. "But I don't know."

"Do you want to look for her?"

Cecelia didn't say anything and kept her eyes on the people outside, but she nodded her head a fraction.

It felt like the most natural thing in the world to Callista to reach out and slip her fingers into Cecelia's hand, and she smiled when Cecelia closed her own fingers around them. 

"Okay," she said. She squeezed gently, and Cecelia squeezed back. Whatever happened, whether Corvo saved Emily or the whole Empire fell apart, they had each other now.

[whumpitlikeyoumeanit]

Whumpuary 14

Whumpuary prompts should theoretically make up one cohesive narrative, though I'm not currently putting in the effort to flesh out the story around the prompts just yet. I have good intentions to do so eventually. Masterlist. Oh yeah and they're totally out of order, chronologically.

((content warnings: conditioning ))

promptspiration: @whumpuary 14: Flinching / Breakdown

Whumpee: Draco Malfoy Whumper: Voldemort Pairing: Harry/Draco whump type: emotional torture fic type: Deathly Hallows "Voldemort learns Draco hooked up with Harry" AU

Voldemort turning love to hate.

words: ~350

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

Draco shuffled into the drawing room after Wormtail. He flinched and turned his eyes to the wall as soon as he recognised the Dark Lord was there, hand coming up to grip the air beside his ear. He couldn't even formulate a plea that what he knew was coming wouldn't happen, because it not happening wasn't an option. Nothing would stop it.

"Ah, Draco." The Dark Lord sounded like it was a mildly pleasant surprise to see him. "It's been some time since we had a conversation. What shall we talk about?"

He stared at nothing, not even attempting a response. He didn't want to talk, he just wanted to mock him before he cursed him…

"Perhaps… Harry Potter." 

Draco finched away from the pain that was coming, the pain that always came with that name. There was no pain, but that didn't matter, there would be. Harry Potter, Harry Potter, another Unforgivable Curse, just a synonym for Crucio…

"He hasn't come for you."

No. Of course not. Why would he? He was just supposed to be a hero. He'd just promised to help him. 

"Do you expect he ever will?"

An answer was actually expected this time; he couldn't just stand there and let words happen around him. "No," he said quietly.

"No? Unfortunate. I suppose it was a mistake to think that he cared for you." 

Draco flinched again from that bare truth. 

"Do you still care for him?" 

He shook his head.

"Speak."

His hand trembled as he wrestled with everything that was supposed to stay in, be pushed down so he didn't even feel it, and he grabbed his hair. "I hate him!" It felt like it exploded, everything just bursting forth in a sudden fire. Harry Potter would defend everyone but him, he promised to help but where was he now, he gave him nothing but empty words and kisses that meant nothing, he was never there! "I hope you kill him!" He seized his head in both hands and fell against the wall, and he didn't mean to be crying but he was. "Just kill him!"

There was a thin smile in the Dark Lord's voice. "Take him back."

[fanficbutnow]

Summary:

When the safety hover glyph doesn't work and Luz almost gets hurt, she finds herself mourning the loss of her glyphs.

Tags, Warnings, and Rating are under the 'Keep Reading'.  

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Owl House (Cartoon) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Amity Blight/Luz Noceda, Amity Blight & Hunter | The Golden Guard & Luz Noceda & Willow Park & Gus Porter, Eda Clawthorne & King Clawthorne & Luz Noceda Characters: Luz Noceda, Amity Blight, Willow Park, Hunter | The Golden Guard (The Owl House), Gus Porter, Eda Clawthorne, King Clawthorne (The Owl House), Stringbean | Snake Shifter Palisman (The Owl House) Additional Tags: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, breakdown - Freeform, Pre-Time Skip, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort

[tabbytabbytabby]

So here is a dream for just you and I

Word Count: 1,129 words

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Relationship: Greenberg/Theo Raeken

Tags: Post-Canon, Future Fic, Living Together, Roommates, Good Theo Raeken, Sleep Deprivation, Theo Raeken Needs a Hug, Greenberg's Name Is Zac, Mentioned Tara Raeken, Worried Greenberg, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Cuddling & Snuggling, Hopeful Ending, Insomnia

Summary: Theo can't sleep, and nothing he does is working. Until one night, a late night talk with Zac unravels just what's been keeping him up at night.

Read on AO3

For @whumpuary No.14: Flinching / Breakdown / Sleep deprivation. And for the Insomnia space for @twbingo. Card under the cut.

[sunnnnyy]

You know you've got nothing to prove

For a moment, it had felt like home, and he’d thought, with his body exhausted and his mind pleasantly numb, he’d be able to sleep.

Read on Ao3

Prompt 14, fic 14! Prompts: Flinching | Breakdown | Sleep Deprivation

You can find all my Whumpuary fics in my series on Ao3