#kyanako's whump
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Whumpuary 7
Bruises
(Weave Sutari, age 23)
After rescue. Probably when he sees his mom for the first time in two years. He's supposed to be smiling slightly, but it might have been lost in the inking.
The cool thing about limiting myself to ink is that I can experiment with portraying things that I'd usually use color to portray. Also, force myself to use varying sized pens when I'm used to sticking to one throughout a piece.
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I can't stop thinking of Kyanako's Order of Attack au... there's something so moving to me about how things getting so much worse could be what finally causes Amane to get better -- seeing Fuuta dying may be the final straw of getting her to rethink her rejection of medicine. Been a while since I've attempted something whump-y, this was fun to work with.
Tw for mentions/contemplation of death. I don't go into detail about the cult but the doctrines are implied through it all.
Fuuta was not a big fan of dying.
When he imagined his own death, he always pictured it as something dramatic and fast. Action heroes going out in a show of explosions and gunfire. Fantasy characters meeting the shining end of a blade. Even when he accepted his place in Milgram, it filled his mind with images of gallows and electric chairs.
Whatever this slow, lengthy fever was, it was pissing him off.
He’d lost all sense of time. He could no longer tell which hour the prison bells were marking -- morning and night blended together. Dreaming and waking blended together. His head injury and broken leg and broken bones blended together. It was all just pain at the end of the day. He had nonstop visitors that kept him awake and asked him too many questions and prodded his injuries and made his head spin. Somehow, he was simultaneously alone every time he rolled over to talk to someone. Painfully, suffocatingly alone.
If Kotoko was going to kill him with those ridiculous emo boots of hers, she should have just done it. He was losing his mind here: devoid of all energy, suffering through broken bones and a cracked head, and boiling in an increasingly fiery fever. Maybe that was the reason he stopped commenting when he watched Amane pocket the medicine Shidou had left him. Maybe that was why he’d stopped following Shidou’s instructions himself. Even after losing an eye and taking a beating herself, Amane always looked at peace. He was tired of dealing with all of this. He wanted a bit of that peace.
Regardless of why, it was working. His fever had quickly gone from the biggest pain in his ass to the very thing that dulled his racing thoughts.
He awoke suddenly, or maybe he’d already been awake. He couldn’t feel anything in his limbs. There was only a breathless heat around him. He raised himself into a sitting position, looking for a drink. Moving his head felt like one of those glitching computer windows that leaves a trail of copies behind it. The room swam around him. His eyes moved absently around him.
Fuuta picked up the glass that someone had left him. His fingers were clumsy, and it immediately went crashing to the ground. He hardly heard the noise as it broke apart on the concrete below.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed. He’d just go get a drink himself. Shidou told him not to get up without help. But what did he know? Thinking of the man ordering him around only drove Fuuta to step out of bed even quicker. He cried out, pain shooting through his leg. That was right, it was broken…
Fuuta looked down, finding himself on the ground. It was so hot. Maybe this is what she felt, he thought numbly. Was it this slow for her too? Probably not. She had no regrets to fill the time like he did. The heroes got quick, beautiful deaths, and it was the villains who had to suffer the long ones.
He lifted his right palm from where it had caught his fall. The shattered glass on the floor had cut into it. Shattered glass? What had broken? He stared blankly at the blood dripping down.
He didn’t have the strength to raise himself up. He was burning. Why was he on the ground? Was he bleeding? He could barely breathe. What was he doing here, anyway? He just wanted to curl up and sleep. He was so weak... just to lie down... he wouldn't have the strength to get back up again. Was that such a bad thing...?
A voice caught his attention. His eyes struggled to focus on the figure who’d come running into the cell. He couldn’t understand a word of what she was saying, but he was happy when she pressed her cool little hands against his forehead.
He allowed her to prop him up next to the bed. She held onto his hand, squeezing it tight. Why was she holding it like that? That hand was bleeding. When did that happen?
Her arms wrapped tightly around him. He wanted to shove her away -- it was too hot -- but couldn’t. In his ear, he could make out her words. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please, Fuuta. Don’t leave me alone. I’m so sorry...”
As she pulled back, he recognized Amane. Her uninjured eye was filled with tears. Was she upset? He thought he’d been making her happy. He wanted to keep making her happy. He’d never made anyone happy before.
He opened his mouth to say something, but no words would come out. They all scrambled up in his mouth. He felt the cell swirling around him.
Amane raised her voice. She looked desperately upwards. “This can’t be --! This isn’t right!”
Fuuta looked up at the ceiling. There was nothing there.
“I can’t do this anymore.”
She continued talking. Fuuta was too busy studying the ceiling. She was shouting. Or maybe crying. Fuuta didn’t like that she was so upset. Huh, had there been someone there? He surveyed the empty cell. What was he doing on the ground?
He looked down at his hand. The sheet from his bed had been pulled down and wrapped hastily around it. Why? His eyes felt sticky as he blinked. Everything hurt. It was so hot. What was going on? He was so angry. He was so scared. He wanted to cry. Why was he here? Why couldn’t he just hurry up and die already?
The next time she entered, Fuuta recognized Amane instantly. Her one hand pointed to him, the other held onto someone else. The second figure hurried over to him.
Fuuta was not a big fan of dying. Shidou reassured him he wouldn’t.
—
“You’re wearing the eyepatch,” Fuuta observed.
He was playing a dangerous game, drawing attention to it like that. He was too exhausted, and his curiosity won out over his better judgment. If Amane was going to explode with one of her typical speeches, he’d just let her.
She didn’t.
Amane’s hand drifted up to her eye. It had been hastily covered before, but now it was cleaned and wrapped in professional-grade materials. She simply said, “Kajiyama Fuuta. How do you feel?”
“Like shit.”
“But--”
“-- But I’m better, yeah.”
Amane nodded, her shoulders releasing.
“Oi, I haven’t seen you in a while. Not since…” He wasn’t sure how to finish the sentence. Shidou had told him what happened, but it was difficult to believe. He couldn’t quite trust his own memory of the night. No matter how much clearer his mind felt since receiving proper treatment, those days of fever still muddled together. He heard that Amane had up and switched her beliefs overnight -- she was now complacent about all of Shidou's treatments -- but Fuuta knew people didn't just change like that. He wanted to hear it for himself.
She lowered her gaze in shame. “I… I thought you hated me.” Her voice was steady. “As you should. I almost killed you. I accept any ill will you may feel.”
“I -- what? You’re wrong. You… it wasn’t…” He grabbed his head, grunting in frustration.
After standing awkwardly in the entryway the whole time, Amane took a few steps inside. She made it to his bedside when he finally collected his thoughts.
“It was your fucked up family or whatever that caused everything. They did this. And I went along and made things worse.” He looked away. His next words felt stupid to say to a little kid. He felt like the most pathetic, weak, loser. But it was too important not to say.
“They almost killed me. You saved me.”
#milgram#fuuta kajiyama#amane momose#i am emotional about them!!!#my other drabble between them hinted that fuuta would convince her away from her dangerous beliefs before things got too bad#but i wanted to see what would happen if things Did get bad ya know#we were talking about what could convince amane to think twice about the medicine ban (if anything)#and i think seeing her closest friend is literally on deaths door finally gets through to her#shes sees him weak and bloody and completely out of it and knows this is Wrong#i dont know how long it takes fuuta to realize that it really was all for him that she changed but he does accept it eventually#it helps both of them grow#he feels worth saving (and therefore worth turning his life around) and she is freer from her cult#not completely#but one step at a time#tried to make fuutas narration simpler and shorter to reflect his thoughts but idk if that worked#i thought they were going to do a lot of stuff with mahirus head injury and memory but they never did- i played around with that a bit here#i thought about writing out amanes monologue to her god about how shes not doing this anymore but 1. its more dramatic to leave that to#the imagination and 2. idk if its silly but some things are so personal for a character and i dont wanna intrude... like yeah its my#story but thats between her and god fr#drabbles#tw cults#tw child abuse
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Whumpuary 12
Rescue
Weave Sutari (23 years old)
Pose is probably unstable, but at least it's interesting.
And perspective? What's that?
(Ah, I messed up the numbers. You saw nothing.)
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Whumpuary 9
Hair grabbing
(Weave Sutari, ~22 years old)
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Whumpuary 13
Left to die
The captors would never leave Weave behind, but the others are expendable. This happens during some internal emergency.
This was also quite the bottleneck. I'm so behind... but now I'm done, and I'll go queue up the others.
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Whumpuary 5
"Stay. Please."
(Weave Sutari, age ~32)
Little guy is married. He's most likely plagued by nightmares from the lost years that were his early twenties.
I have no sense of scale, but he's supposed to be 4'10", and his wife is 5'6".
-
Huff, huff, I'm falling behind here. I guess this is a sign to not participate in Febuwhump because I'll most certainly have other things I want to do.
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Whumpuary 3
"This is gonna hurt"
(Weave Sutari, age ~22)
What's in the briefcase? Eh, better to leave it to the imagination.
(Feels awkward to be posting stuff now that I know people are looking at it. Anyway, reminder that the tags for these things are "asonarium" and "kyanako's whump")
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Whumpuary 2
Collapse
(Weave Sutari, age ~22)
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Whumpuary 15
"You're safe" / Aftermath
And I'm done! Time to not do any more drawing challenges until October. I have so many WIPs that I put on the back burner.
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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.
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Whumpuary 11
"Just get it over with"
Weave Sutari (~22 years old)
Weave has something valuable in his blood called Asonarium. Over the course of his captivity, he's gotten used to having it taken from him.
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Whumpuary 10
Can't stay awake
(Weave Sutari, ~22 years old)
How to draw quivering eyes?
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Whumpuary 8
Hostage
This one was a bottleneck... I've got to catch up here.
I don't know what age Weave is supposed to be. But no matter how old he is, he'll always have his mom to help.
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Whumpuary 6
Old injuries
(Weave Sutari, ~32)
After ten years, the scars ought to look different, but... I can only do so much with a quick ink drawing.
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Whumpuary 4
"Help me" / Lightheaded / Kneeling
No idea what's this thing by his hand. I was just trying to compensate for lining mistakes.
I see no. 6 taking place outside of this dark era. Maybe no. 5 as well.
It's getting difficult to keep up when I'm trying to draw other stuff. Good thing I decided to do basic lineart...
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Whumpuary 1
Snow
(Weave Sutari - age ~25)
Whumpuary is here. With it are fifteen prompts that are calling Weave Sutari's name. (Am I going to change his name? Perhaps?) I think I'll stick with ink for now, since I'd prefer to not spend too much time coloring.
Not sure what's going to be "canon", but in this scenario, Weave remembers a time when snow leaked into his cell during the time he was captive. The first snow of the year isn't a pleasant experience.
A more Whumptober-esque drawing is under the cut. Reminder that this will all be tagged with "kyanako's whump".
(Weave Sutari, age ~22)
The prompt "captivity" also fits, but that's probably going to be most of the drawings.
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