#whumptember2023

[whumptember]

Whumptember 2023 Prompts

rules | alternate prompts | tags and posting | ask box

1. “Did I do good?

Mentor whumper | Young hero | Blood loss

2. “Let me do this for you.”

Sacrifice | Guilt | Caretaker turned whumpee

3. “This can’t be it”

Betrayal | Left to die | Running away

4. “Where are they?”

Kidnapped | Left behind | Desperation 

5. “What do you want me to do?”

Owed a favor | Whispered conversation | Sneaking around

6. “I didn’t do this”

Framed | Bloody clothes | Behind bars

7. “No one will believe you”

Behind closed doors | Fake smiles | Touch aversion 

8. “Don’t come back”

Kicked out | Saying goodbye for the last time | Lashing out 

9. “This was always going to happen”

Doomed relationship | Opposing sides | Fatal wound 

10. “What are you doing to them?”

Brainwashed | Hanging from their wrists | Phone call 

11. “There’s nothing else I can do”

Last resort | Character death | Medical whump

12. “I can’t leave again”

Homecoming | Multiple responsibilities | Failed rescue 

13. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

Finally free | Open arms | Clothes that don’t fit

14. “I’m on my way. Just hold on a little longer”

Bleeding out | In and out of consciousness  | Voice cracking

15. “I thought you were dead”

Faked death | Under the radar | Trail of blood

16. “Can I go home now?”

Young whumpee | Captive | Chains around the wrists

17. “Can you come pick me up?”

Sensory overload | Feeling like someone’s watching | Bad luck

18. “You said I’d be safe here”

Ambushed | Paranoia | Being watched

19. “You are not a hero. You’re a child playing dress up. Now take off that silly mask and go home.”

Villain mentor | In over their head | Trembling 

20. “We can’t all win”

Failure | City in ruin | Boot on throat 

21. “Take me with you”

Failed escape | Stumbling | Too weak to move

22. “I’m getting bored”

Captive whumpee | New whumper | Electrocution 

23. “Is that blood?”

Passing out | Hyperventilating | New scars

24. “You have to promise I’ll come back”

Muffled screams | Returning home | Uncommon restraints

25. “I won’t leave you here”

Desperate measures | Fireman's carry | Head lolling

26. “You aren’t supposed to be here! You have to leave now”

Unexpected visitor | Explosion | Caretaker turned (accidental) whumper

27. “I thought you, of all people, would understand why I did what I did.”

Reluctant villain | Old friends | Cornered 

28. “I never should have let it come this far”

Failed hero | Hospital stay | Begging for help

29. “You told me this was the right thing”

Mislead | Blood on hands | Too late 

30. “You were in my way”

Stabbed in the back | Whimpering | Chained to a wall 

#whumptember #whumptember2023 #whump #whump prompts #whump event

[cywscross]

remake the universe (remake us)

Fandom: Bleach

Character/Pairing: Aizen Sousuke & Kurosaki Ichigo, Kurosaki Ichigo/Urahara Kisuke, Aizen Sousuke & Kurosaki Ichigo & Urahara Kisuke, Aizen Sousuke & Urahara Kisuke, Kurosaki Ichigo, Urahara Kisuke, Aizen Sousuke, Shihouin Yoruichi

Rating: T

Word Count: 14015

Summary: There are different ways to conquer, different ways to win. Ichigo's greatest victories have always been in people.

Tags: Canon Divergence AU, Quincy War AU, Soul King Ichigo, Time Travel, Codependency, Obsession, Blood and Injury, Unreliable Narrator, Ambiguous/Open Ending

Submitted For: - Whumptember 2023 - Day 1: "Did I do good?" - Mentor whumper | Young hero | Blood loss (@whumptember) - Post-July Break Bingo 2023 - Trying to seduce your archnemesis/rival - 100ships - 06. Lust - Trope Bingo [Round 16] - Sacrifice - Hurt/Comfort Bingo [Round 13] - coughing up blood - Gen Prompt Bingo [Round 19] - Enemies - Bad Things Happen Bingo [Card 2] - Dying in Their Arms (@badthingshappenbingo) - 100prompts - 018. Wishing

#whumptember2023 #whumptember2023 day 1 #badthingshappenbingo #prompt: dying in their arms #cywscross #fanfiction #bleach #uraichi #aiichi #uraichiai #whumptember 2023 #post july break bingo 2023 #100 ships challenge #trope bingo #hurt/comfort bingo #gen prompt bingo #100 prompts challenge

[iwritewhump]

"Can I go home now?" + young whumpee + captive + chains around the wrists

day 16 of @whumptember

272 words

warnings: young whumpee, being left behind/forgotten

---

Villain walks into the small room and sets a plate down in front of Sidekick. “Hungry?” 

“Can I go home now?” Sidekick asks, eyeing the plate warily. 

Villain shakes her head, “Not just yet, little one.” 

Sidekick writhes against the restraints, she stares up at Villain and cries, “Why are you doing this?” 

Villain kneels down in front of Hero and frowns, “I’m trying to teach someone a lesson.” she says, cupping Sidekick’s cheek. “He’s been too reckless with you for too long. Some day, you won’t come back.” 

Sidekick pulls away, she curls more into herself and her cheek rests on her raised arm. The cuffs groan with the added weight and the chains jangle with the movement. “He’ll be here for me before you know it. He- he’ll kick down your door and save me.” she forces a smug smile and sighs. “I know he will.” 

Villain stands and brushes the wrinkles out of her clothes, “I hope he is. But, if he isn’t…I’ll take the chains off and let you go. You have my word.” 

She turns and exits the room, leaving Sidekick alone. She waits for five hours, alone, scared, and restrained before the door opens again. 

Smiling, Sidekick pushes herself up against the wall and tries to stand, despite the restraints. “I knew you’d come for me!” 

The door pushes the rest of the way open and Villain walks back in the room. She smiles sadly and walks up to Sidekick with a key in her hand. 

“I’m sorry, kid. I wish he’d shown up for you.” She says, softly removing the cuffs from Sidekick’s worn wrists. 

#whumptember #whumptember2023 #whumptember day 16 #whump #whump fic #whump writing #whumpee #whumper #villain whumper #villain caretaker #sidekick whumpee #hero whumper #sidekick whump #my writing #chained by the wrists #can i go home now? #captive #young whumpee

[whumble-beeee]

Whumptember 2023, Day 20

“We can’t all win”

Failure | City in ruin | Boot on throat 

The Bee's Whumptember Masterlist 

~1120 words

CW: suffocation, past murder mention, future murder threats, very vivid and frank talk of murder, acid

(cont’d from Day 9: This Was Always Going To Happen and Day 5: What Do You Want Me To Do. You don’t really need to read them to understand this story, but it would help a bit for full comprehension)

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

“Villain–” Spy sputtered, scrambling backward with a heavy limp, wincing every time they tweaked their ankle in just the wrong way. “--Villain, wait, wait, I don’t–... You don’t have to–”

“Don’t I?” Villain cut them off with an amused tilt of the head. “Because it seems to me, Medic, that ever since you joined the team, small yet… unexplainable things keep happening… Voices that aren’t your own coming from you room, victims suddenly ‘can’t take any more’ just as they’re about to crack…”

Spy’s bad ankle snagged onto a ripple in the carpet that wasn’t there before and they crumbled back, their butt and wrists shooting warning bolts of distress through their bones as they hit the ground hard.

“I’m just here to make sure you don’t kill anyone you don’t mean to, Villain.”  Spy reasoned weakly as Villain closed the distance between them. “You always go too far.”

Villain kicked halfheartedly at the mangled ankle they just broke, and Spy hissed, barely holding back a full screech. 

“Now that’s all just circumstantial, I’m sure, Medic. I like you, really, I do. You’re all business, but you still know how to have fun, like me.” Their hand glided gracefully into their jacket pocket. “I really wanted it not to be true, but…”

Villain flicked their hand up and produced a small black and white composition journal between their middle and pointer finger, smiling lightly as the blood in ‘Medic’s’ face drained at the sight. They frisbeed the journal with a flick of their wrist, and Spy flinched as it smacked them in the face before falling face up and open beside them, their sins out on full display.

“The evidence doesn’t lie, does it? Spy…”

Spy grasped the acid bottles strapped to their belt and hurled them at Villain with a loud cry, watching as they sailed straight through Villain’s body with a sparkle and splattered onto the wall behind them. The drywall hissed in protest. Villain was on them in an instant, one foot weighing heavily on their throwing wrist, splaying it out wide away from their body while Villain’s other foot slammed them back and rested on their throat, pressing down just enough on their windpipe to barely allow airflow. Spy’s eyes bulged as they gasped against the obstruction, an involuntary whimper escaping their throat as the pressure didn’t let up.

“I hate double agents, Spy.” Villain growled. “And even more, I hate traitors.”

Spy yanked fruitlessly at the foot planted firmly on their throat, before leaning their head back, defeated. “Just kill me already.” They rasped, squeezing their tear lined eyes shut. They should have known this would happen.

“You should be so lucky…” Villain laughed as they brought their foot up slightly, enjoying the feeling of the fragile life force they held under their sole spasming and begging for life. For mercy.

Villain knew no such word.

“No, no, no death for you… traitors can still be immensely useful, especially when their friends still love and more importantly, trust them.”

Spy’s face twisted into a burning rage as they tried to beg, reason, curse Villain out, do something, but the full weight of Villains body fell squarely on their throat just as they were about to do so, and their rage morphed into full blown panic as they convulsed around the unyielding force denying them the mercy of oxygen. Panicked agony ripped through their chest as they clawed at Villains leg and silently begged into their cold, calculating eyes, the same ones that sparked with radical enjoyment as Spy finally started to go limp under their heel a moment later, watching with glee the slowly but surely losing battle that Spy fought with the ever encroaching blackness at the edges of their vision. Their spasming chest and stomach grew steadily weaker until they stilled entirely, sitting unmoving under the villain.

Just as Spy went limp, Villain raised their foot fully out of Spy’s windpipe, so their boot was just resting on their trembling neck again. Spy coughed violently under them, attempting to curl up into themself as the weight still on their neck actively prevented it. They just clutched at the carpet and coughed violently into the air, tears now freely flowing from their eyes.

“I’m going to make you give them false information, Spy.” Villain continued nonchalantly as Spy hyperventilated under them. “Then I’m going to make you sit there and watch as I torture and murder every. Last. One of them.”

Villain crouched down grabbed villains jaw, yanking their teary face up to look them in the icy blue eyes. 

“I’ll start with Youngest. The one who got you caught. The one you tried so hard to protect from me. I’ll make you look them in the eyes and apologize to them for not being good enough as they die, and I’ll make sure they know you won’t be saving them this time. Then Leader, just so you know that all this? It was all for nothing. They all died for nothing, because of you. Then finally, Caretaker… Your love, the one who first made me suspicious of you. I’ll make sure to thank them as they scream for mercy, and I’ll make sure they feel the weight of their careless mistake with every cut of the blade. They’ll slowly bleed out, and you’ll sit there and hold them in your arms, knowing you can do absolutely nothing. Maybe I’ll even throw in Sidekick, too, the spineless dog. Just another traitor. I only wish I hadn’t killed Rogue so soon so I could make you watch the life drain from their eyes, too.”

Spy glared up at Villain through their despair with all the hatred they could muster, struggling against their weight as best they could, uncaring of the foot that held their throat to the ground like a vice. They screamed out, in defeated rage. What else could they do? 

“Oh, don’t look at me like that, Spy.” Villain tutted, like a mother scolding her troubled child. “We can’t all win. Excuse me for wanting your failure to hurt.”

The Villain stomped down before the weight suddenly lifted off of Spy’s bruised neck, and  Villain sauntered away toward the door. The sudden supply of air had Spy splayed out and coughing into the ground once more, pressing their forehead into the soft carpet in the vain hope that they could just push through the the fluff and scratch and disappear forever. Like Villain could, if they wanted to. Spy should be so lucky.

“Come along, Medic.” Villain called out to the mess behind them. “Stop writhing on the ground like a worm and at least pretend you’re not a complete failure.

“We’ve got work to do.”

@whumptember

#whumptember2023 #whumptember day 20 #day twenty: we cant all win #day twenty: failure #day twenty: boot on throat #failure #boot on throat #we cant all win #whump #whump writing #whumpee #writeblr #whump scenario #whumper #heroes and villains #hehehehe #this one is awesome #im really starting to get invested in this story too lol

[fallenwhumpee]

“This can’t be it”

• Part 1 • Part 2 • Masterlist •

Day 3: Betrayal | Left to die | Running away

Warnings: Blood, gun.

"Leader and I will cover the left, rest go around and catch Whumper off guard."

Leader stayed silent as Right Hand changed their yet another order. The team eyed them cautiously, so they nodded and fled to the opposite side.

"Ready?"

Leader loaded their gun as a response. They were feeling sour over the mission. It was so redundant to dispatch a special unit for a barely guarded base. It was even more absurd to think Whumper was there. Leader had spent years hunting them down. They didn't believe a word of the intel.

At least every part of the plan was safe to ditch or retreat, even if it cost the night's sleep.

"What do you have in mind?"

"Just the mission," they breathed out at once. They often kept themselves from vocalising their worries, as if saying it loud would make it real. Right Hand's decisions weren't clashing with Leader's plans, but they didn't like this daring attitude.

"Relax, we will be fine. We are overqualified for this."

"Not until we go home." They darted forward, Right Hand after them. Soon, they were standing alone in the pool of enemy blood, dead bodies around. Leader was out of breath from covering Right Hand's back. They couldn't find any reason for this unusual behaviour.

"You'll get one of us killed!" They finally snapped as they pulled Right Hand back from the camera view. Tech was yet to disable those.

Right Hand smiled, and it was one of the scariest things Leader has ever seen.

Right Hand pulled their gun, and Leader started to run without a second thought, a bullet grazing their ear. They stumbled, and one more shot missed them, the turn in the corridor providing a cover.

"When the agency told us to get rid of you, I was afraid pulling the trigger would be hard."

Leader closed their eyes, their heart rushing as they listened to the footsteps getting closer. They had to keep calm and figure out what was happening later. Leader was better than Right Hand in the close combat.

They ignored their heart breaking to million pieces. They thought they were friends. Or a family of sorts. They always thought their team would be with them no matter what. They ignored the feelings creeping up. They were good at it, too, but they knew it was going to crush them down sooner or later.

"Please don't take this personally. This is just what it takes to end this pointless conflict. We will bury you and Whumper here and finally stop dying while hunting each other."

As if Leader was the reason for this ridiculousness. With a deep breath, they felt anger run through their veins and lunged to Rught Hand.

They fell to the floor with the impact, the gun flying to the opposite side of the hall. Leader pinned Right Hand to ground, their one knee pressing to the unguarded chest.

A hit from the back of their head sent them to the floor. The next thing they knew was pain, accompanied by a loud bang. Leader cried, hands reaching to the source, their fingers meeting with a warm, sticky fluid. They didn't look down, pressing their stomach as they gasped for air.

"Job is done. We don't have to torture ourselves with waiting for them to die."

Teammate, Leader wanted to call, but they could only cough as Teammate helped Right Hand back on their feet, leaving Leader's blurred sight without a word.

Leader didn't know how long they laid and waited for death to claim them, but some time later, a shadowy figure stumbled towards them, dropping to their knees.

"This can't be it. I refuse to die like this. And I won't let you die by someone else's hand."

Leader could barely recognise Whumper from the blood covering the enemy's face. Without a warning, Whumper pulled them up, leaning them against the wall. Leader grunted, pain too much for them to breathe properly, let alone think of a sarcastic comment like usual.

"We're getting out of here, and you're welcome."

#whumptember2023 #whumptember day 3 #day three: This can't be it #day three: betrayal #day three: left to die #day three: running away #tw blood #tw gun #leader whump #leader whumpee

[pigeonwhumps]

Hospital stay

Immortal Cannon Fodder masterlist

Taglist: @extrabitterbrain @wolfeyedwitch @whumpinggrounds @painful-pooch

Whumptember day 28: "I never should have let it come this far" | failed hero | hospital stay | begging for help

Set in the future, when Phoenix has been with Kai's team a while. After being kidnapped together and tortured for, Phoenix and Aaron have been rescued, Kai injured while doing so.

Joseph belongs to @i-eat-worlds, from their story Alex and Friends. Please go read it if you haven't yet!

1.5k

CWs: immortal whumpee, hero whump, caretaker turned whumpee, trans whumpee, mentions of superpower overuse, mentions of waterboarding and whipping, past torture, medical setting, coma, low self-esteem, self-degradation, wish to have committed self sacrifice, something that could potentially come across as a death wish but isn't, past self sacrifice, emeto, past temporary character death, past whump reveal (I guess? Idk how to label it)

Phoenix blinks back tears as they watch Aaron, still and silent in the medbay bed in front of them. He's lying on his stomach, trailing with monitors and IVs and all manner of medical equipment, swathed in bandages. They should've done better. They should be there instead of Aaron, but their stupid healing factor, their immortality that's been so useful in the past, means that he was the one who almost died.

It's not fair. He could've escaped if it wasn't for them. But they're stupid and they failed, and now people are worried about them, too.

"They're definitely out of the coma?" whispers Phoenix to the nurse currently taking Aaron's vitals.

"Yes. Just asleep now. They're safe, everyone is."

"It's my fault."

"No. No, it's not, kiddo."

"It *is*. They used me to control him, he could've, um, escaped. And to check they were right. If I'd died quicker then he would've been less hurt, I should've, um, I should've–"

"Don't you dare. Don't you dare talk about yourself like that."

Phoenix blinks, then bursts into tears. The nurse is so fierce.

"Why do you care? Aaron's yours, I got him hurt, you should–"

A hand falls onto their shoulder. "Do you think that after what we've seen of you over the past few years, how much you've helped, how much you've hurt, do you honestly think that we wouldn't care for you too?"

Phoenix cries. They watch Aaron's too-still body and they cry. Everyone else shouldn't care. But as they watch the nurse tend to Aaron, they can't bring themself to point it out again.

"You're sure they'll, um, they'll be okay?"

"Yes. He's recovering nicely. They should be awake in about six to twelve hours."

They're still too bandaged, too still, too too too, too little Aaron in there. Phoenix tries to comfort themself with the thought that he'll be awake soon, but it doesn't help much. What if he doesn't want to see them again? It's all their fault. They're a failure of a hero, a useless, stupid–

"Hey. Whatever you're thinking, that's enough. Joseph's sent you another cat meme if you want a distraction. Are you in pain?"

The answer is yes, everywhere still aches and hurts whenever they shift (and when they don't), but they can't say that. They know why the nurse is asking. But they're a waste of resources and they deserve this anyway.

"No, sir."

"Are you saying no because you really aren't in pain or because you don't want painkillers? I have standing orders from Aaron to remind you that, although you can of course refuse medication, it's perfectly fine to take painkillers or anything else and it's not a waste of resources."

"I'm, um, I'm okay without, sir," murmurs Phoenix, unsure whether they want the nurse to call them out on it or not. She sighs knowingly.

"Alright. Let me know if you need any. Do you want to see Joseph's cat meme?"

Phoenix nods. "Please. And, um, can I move over to Kai's bed? It's, um, it's his turn."

"Of course."

The nurse fetches Phoenix's phone and wheels them over to Kai's bed, then adjusts their saline IV.

"We'll start you off trying to drink again soon. No water for a while yet though."

Phoenix nods, feeling a burning shame. There's no physical reason they can't drink, they're fine. But mentally...

Mentally, they've spent too long without Kai or Aaron reassuring them on anything, and they didn't realise just how much they relied on that. They're useless on their own.

They clutch Mr Frosty to their chest, smiling weakly at Joseph's new message and making sure to reply. They barely see it, but they know now that he'll worry if they don't answer for too long.

It's their daily cat photo. They don't know what they ever did to deserve Joseph.

They slide their phone onto their lap and sink their chin down onto Mr Frosty's head, observing Kai. He's unconscious too, but a lot of that's because he overused his powers. The medics weren't worried about his unconsciousness so much as the stab wound.

Kai looks peaceful. Phoenix isn't sure if that's true.

They look between their two best friends and guilt wells up inside them. Guilt, and grief for something unknown, bubbling over like an old stone well, overflowing and unstoppable. They've both been hurt, everyone's been hurt, because of them.

"I wish I'd been tortured instead of Aaron," murmurs Phoenix, stroking Mr Frosty's fur. "He didn't deserve it. But it's partly so I wouldn't have to watch, so maybe that makes me selfish. What do you think, Mr Frosty?"

"Mr Frosty thinks you shouldn't be so hard on yourself," croaks a voice from the closest bed, and Phoenix looks up, heart in their throat, to see Kai squinting at them.

"Kai! You're awake! Oh." They press a small red button on the side of Kai's bed. "The nurse said to call if you woke."

"How long have I been out?" he asks weakly, as Phoenix helps him with a sippy cup of water.

"A few days? Not entirely sure," they reply quietly. "I was unconscious too for some of it."

Kai tries to sit up, a concerned look on his face, but he can't manage it. "Are you okay? I thought you'd be healing faster, what's wrong?"

"Dehydration, mostly. I'm fine." Kai's gaze flickers pointedly to the IV line in their arm and back, and they sigh. Can't Kai ever miss anything? "I'm... struggling to drink, after... well. It's simpler this way." Phoenix hesitates, and then reaches out a hand hopefully, laying it on top of Kai's uninjured one. Kai turns his own over and squeezes it gently.

Kai's hand is rough, and warm, and large, and it fills Phoenix with relief, to be able to hold it again.

"Where's Aaron? How are they holding up? I don't remember that well but I'm pretty sure they were in bad shape."

Phoenix's eyes dart to the next bed, and Kai struggles in another fruitless attempt to sit up.

"He... he, um, he took the last whipping for me. After everything else he took it, I don't know why, I'm, um, I'm immortal, I'd have been fine, but he– anyway, they're, um, they're out of the induced coma now. Asleep. They're healing. I've, um, been switching between you."

Phoenix is dreading the point where they have to find out exactly how bad things are, how much Aaron hates them now, but they know they deserve it.

"Okay. Phoenix? Firstly, being whipped and waterboarded counts as torture, yes, to you too. Stop being mean to yourself."

Phoenix frowns. "How do you, um, know about the waterboarding?"

Kai squeezes their hand. "They sent videos. To anyone who might care that they had you both. Our team, Joseph, Electrocus, Aisling and Gemma... and Aaron's parents and Alicia. Nobody's told you, huh?"

Phoenix shakes their head, but everything's muted, like they're underwater. They're drowning and they have no idea how to come up for air.

They understand why no-one would tell them. Everyone knowing... that's far too much for their mind to hold.

They gasp, trying to grasp onto something, anything, looking for a lifeline their mind can hold. Everyone knowing...

And they don't even know how much.

"My... my parents?"

"No idea. We haven't contacted them, they haven't contacted us. If they know they're not saying. But no-one can share either of your identities further."

Phoenix takes a deep breath, trying to steady themself. This means Aaron doesn't know either.

Of course he doesn't. Of course he wouldn't. He hasn't woken since the rescue.

"Stop, um, stop trying to reassure me when you were stabbed."

"Then stop claiming you weren't tortured."

"Wasn't bad torture."

They were experiments anyway. That doesn't count as torture.

There's footsteps from behind Phoenix and they cower down, throwing their arm above their head even though it'll do no good. He's going to hurt them, he's going to stretch their limits and kill them and hurt Aaron and–

"Easy. It's just me, I'm here to check on Kai, breathe."

Phoenix does so obediently, blood rushing past their ears still but seeing the medbay as if from miles away, someone in a white coat entering their field of vision.

"Hello Kai," the voice says warmly. "You're awake. How are you feeling?"

"Tell Phoenix there's no such thing as "not bad" torture."

"There isn't. But Kai, I asked about *you*."

"Thirsty, tired, sore. Not dying." He coughs. "What happened?"

"Let me check your vitals and monitors." There's a pause. Phoenix puts their head between their knees, trying to remember how to breathe. "You remember the rescue? Well, you got Phoenix and Aaron, but you had a dagger thrown in your back on your way out. You're damned lucky you were in wolf form. The healers patched you up, but you had a way to go on your own."

"And the others?"

"Lian's been in and out of sleep, Morfydd's in a sensory deprivation chamber, and Santhiya's recovering in a power-blocking room. You all overused your powers drastically, but you'll be okay."

The floor is mostly white with splatters of colour, swirling swirling splatter, and Phoenix throws up on the medbay floor.

#whumptember2023 #whumptember2023 day 28 #day 28: failed hero #day 28: hospital stay #whump #whump writing #immortal cannon fodder #phoenix oc #aaron oc #kai oc #whumpee and caretaker #multiple whumpees #hero whump #hero whumpee #hero caretaker #villain whumper #referenced #hero and villain #caretaker turned whumpee #trans whumpee #immortal whumpee #immortal caretaker

[a-crumb-of-whump]

Comfortember 2023 Masterlist

I have decided that I wanna participate in this year's @comfortember. It's going to include mostly ANB and SBAK things, but will also include a few drabbles with unknown characters:)

Below the cut is the prompt for every day and what story it'll be attached to, along with the ANB and SBAK taglist, plus a separate one that's just for this event.

Day 1: Safe (SBAK)

Day 2: Baths (SBAK)

Day 3: Leaves Changing (ANB)

Day 4: Warmth (ANB)

Day 5: Treehouse (ANB)

Day 6: Notes (ANB)

Day 7: Sick/Illness (ANB)

Day 8: Grief/Mourning (ANB)

Day 9: Aftermath (ANB)

Day 10: Sadness (Stand-alone fic)

Day 11: Comfort Show/Movie (ANB)

Day 12: Dreams (SBAK)

Day 13: Baking (ANB)

Day 14: Late Night Phone Calls (ANB)

Day 15: Plushies (ANB)

Day 16: Coffee/Tea Break (ANB)

Day 17: Books (ANB)

Day 18: Cuddles (SBAK)

Day 19: Loved Ones (SBAK)

Day 20: Shopping (ANB)

Day 21: Relapse (ANB)

Day 22: Cry (ANB)

Day 23: Anxiety (SBAK)

Day 24: Blankets (ANB)

Day 25: Rain (SBAK)

Day 26: Friends (ANB)

Day 27: Soup (SBAK)

Day 28: Flashbacks (SBAK)

Day 29: Sleepovers (ANB)

Day 30: The New Normal (ANB)

As usual, just ask to be added or taken off:)

Comfortember 2023 taglist: @topsheepstudent

ANB Taglist: @choppedflowermuffinchild @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @emcscared-whumps @espresso-depresso-system @inkkswhumpandstuff @pigeonwhumps @pumpkin-spice-whump @roblingoblin285 @sacredwrath @some-thrilling-heroics @stabby-nunchucks @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @trans-writes @whump-blog @whumpsday @whumpshaped @paniatheweirdone @whumpycries @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question @thekittyburger @whumpdreamz

SBAK Taglist: @kiss1t0ffm3 @latenightcupsofcoffee @make-it-gay-please @nyooom @pigeonwhumps @pixelated-whump @strawberry-whump @topsheepstudent @whumped4whumplover @whumpsday @whumpshaped

#whumptember2023 #whump #anb stuff #sbak stuff

[hurtmyfavsthanks]

Whumptember day 1

“Did I do good? Mentor whumper | Young hero | Blood loss

The city had been turned into a battlefield. The buildings had been dissolved into rubble, homes and businesses alike crushed into dust. Ash and blood mixed in Sidekick’s mouth, making a thick paste they didn’t have the energy to spit out. They barely had the energy to keep their eyes open.

They must have closed their eyes, because they felt Hero’s bloodied hand slapping their face.

“Don’t–! Keep your eyes open, you hear me?!” Hero’s tone was harsh and, if they didn’t know any better, Sidekick might’ve thought they were angry. But after a year of being their student, Sidekick was able to find the tremor beneath their hissed command. Hero was afraid.

Distantly, Sidekick knew they should be as well, but they didn’t have the energy for it. It didn’t seem important anymore.

Is Villain…gone?" Each word was a momentous effort, but Sidekick forced them out through bloodied lips.

"Yes–you got them. It was reckless as hell, but you did it," Hero gave a shocked, wet chuckle, and Sidekick saw their shoulder’s hitch. “So shut up and focus on staying alive, alright?”

Sidekick thought they’d hummed their acknowledgement, but they could already feel their eyelids drooping. Relief washed over them, evaporating what little will they’d had keeping them awake. They’d done it; they’d finally proven themselves.

Sidekick gave a weak, bloody smile, even as Hero’s eyes filled with tears. “Did…I do good?” They whispered as their eyes slipped shut.

They didn’t hear Hero’s response.

#whumptember2023 #whumptember day 1 #day 1: did I do good?/young hero/blood loss #Sidekick whumpee #hero caretaker #whump #passing out #blood loss #my stuff

[ramblingkat]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Bleach (Anime & Manga) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Kurosaki Ichigo/Urahara Kisuke Characters: Kurosaki Ichigo, Urahara Kisuke Additional Tags: Tropetember, Whumptember, why am I doing this to myself, Ichigo does not like this sensation, some gore, But mostly healing afterwards, Nobody approves of this, Blame the UraIchi Discord, Especially Cross, Blame the Rat Pit Series: Part 1 of TropeWhumptember Summary:

An arrow to the back is not a nice thing. Ichigo loses some blood, some coherency, and his brain to mouth filter. He misses the last the most.

#whumptember2023 #day one: blood loss #tropetember #day one: friends to lovers #tropewhumptember #bleach #Kurosaki Ichigo #Urahara Kisuke #UraIchi #fanfiction

[dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night]

Fuffy blanket for Jay, please? 🥺

Eden

Whumptember day 24. Muffled screams

TW: nightmares, trauma, mild self harm, biting, bruises, creepy/intimate whumper, carewhumper, pet whumpees, multiple whumpees

Note: This is set a while before Jay's death, obviously.

Christopher woke up to the sound of screaming. This wasn't unusual in the summer, when the woods were full of screech owls who loved to give him a show. But in the middle of winter, when all the birds had flown south, the sound filled him with dread.

He got out of bed, folding his blankets neatly out of habit, and walked to the bedroom where Ezra and Jay's slept. As he knocked lightly on the door, the sound of screaming quickly muffled itself.

The door creaked as it opened, and Christopher saw that Ezra was still fast asleep. And no wonder, with how exhausting of a day he had been through. Jay's sat up next to him, biting down on their own arm to keep from making noise.

Not wanting stress Ezra by waking him, Christopher gently helped Jay stand up from the bed. They followed him back to his own room, guided by his hand around their own. Their trembling nearly caused them to fall at multiple points, so Christopher was careful to walk slowly.

Jay sat down on Christopher's bed, trying to act submissive even as they stifled their sobs by biting down on their arm as hard as they possibly could.

"That's enough of that," Christopher scolded. "You're hurting yourself."

Jay dropped both their hands to their lap, crying harder than ever. The nasty bruises on their arm were dark red, struck through with deep lines of purple.

"I- I'm s- I'm sorry," they wailed. "I'm s- so sorry."

Christopher squeezed Jay in a tight hug. "Breathe. Take deep breaths. You're going to be fine. I am not mad at you."

"I had a stupid nightmare and- and... I don't know." Jay shivered, and rubbed their arms. "I'm sorry I woke you up, sir. I'm so so sorry."

Christopher wrapped his blanket around Jay's shoulders. They clung to it, as though the fluffy material might offer them protection from more than just the cold.

"You have nothing to apologize for," Christopher said. "I only wanted to make sure you were alright."

"Yes sir."

"I love you. I hope you know that."

"I-" Jay choked back their tears. "I love you. I really really do.

"Why don't you sleep in here tonight? I'm a light sleeper, so I'll wake you up if you have another nightmare. And I'll be right here if anything happens."

"Thank you, sir." Jay wiped the tears from their eyes. "Thank you. I'll try to be better."

Christopher knew he had to talk Jay out of their need to be "good", considering that Colt's standards of morality and reasonable conduct had been... questionable, to say the least.

But for the time being, getting them cozy in bed to ward off sleep deprivation was very important. He knew full well that emotional conditioning took a very long time to do or undo.

Taglist: @hugh-lauries-bald-spot @thedarkmongoose @whumpsday @whump-by-robin @kira-the-whump-enthusiast @annablogsposts @whumpshaped @seetheothersideofparadise @knittedeyebrowsandcardigans @whatwasmyprevioususername @boonasaurusrex @suspicious-whumping-egg @heavenlyeden @melancholy-in-the-morning @snakebites-and-ink @suck-my-clit-loser @i-eat-worlds @scp-1296 @chiswhumpcorner @skittles-the-whumpee @whumpkin @dokidokisadness @enbygesserit @canislycaon24 @be-gay-do-crime-ahaha @a-crumb-of-whump

#Abraham original: Hot off the press #Eden #Whump #Pet whump #Jay #Trauma whump #Whumptember2023 #Whumptember day 24 #Muffled screams

[sugareey-makes-stuff]

I have no idea where this came from, but I decided to write a thing when I saw that Crimson_Fanfic_Writer_7 needed some cheering up and asked for Sterek, angst and hurt/comfort for TML's Drabble for Dopamine. This was honestly supposed to be 500 words, but somehow transformed into a mini monster of its own. Inspired by @whumptember's alternative prompts, "You don't deserve this." and "It should have been me." Mind the tags below. Title: The Walls Came Crashing Down (<- on AO3) Rating: Teen Ship: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski WC: 4.2k Tags: AU- Canon Divergence, Post-Kanima Arc, Post-Nogitsune Arc, SPN S1 Ep5 Bloody Mary, Urban Legends, Whump, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Stiles Stilinski, Hurt Jackson Whittemore, Lydia Martin Saves the Day, Derek Hale to the Rescue, Unconsciousness, Implied/Referenced Torture, Survivor Guilt, Regret, Blood and Injury, Panic Attacks, Crying, Canon-Typical Violence, Pack, Stiles Needs a Hug, Derek Hale Comforts Stiles, POV Stiles, Hopeful Ending Summary:

"Stop thinking so hard, or you’re going to bleed." Surely it couldn’t be—wasn’t his Pack supposed to be duking things out with vampires right now? But a very solid and reassuring hand squeezed his own. Grounding him. Holding on, as if to drain away his pain. There was only one person who always did this whenever he got hurt. "Derek?" Stiles whispered, his voice raw and scratchy. * [Or: A mission goes horribly wrong, and Stiles finally figures out where he stands with Derek.]

Okay, so this fic is different from what I usually lean toward. Yeah, I'm an angst and hurt/comfort person, but it's rare for me to write about the whumpier and bloodier things. Reading it is one thing, but writing it really makes you wonder about a lot (ie. how everything physical is tied in with all things mental and emotional), and making sure to double-check things like facts and tagging. Also, I've been wanting to write a Bloody Mary thing for...a decade? I don't even know...there's something about common myths and urban legends that's so interesting and eerie. Love the lore and the potential for all the suspense, mystery and action that can come out of each and every story. Throw in some hurt characters, and hey, I guess things gotta get bad before they get better? Feels that pull, that's what it's about. This really was a treat to write, lbh. And I will look for an excuse for Stiles and Derek to make each other feel better. They've seen some Stuff, and they 1000% deserve all the comfort and hugs. Anyway, something new for the fall and pre-spooky season. I hope you give this a read when you have a chance. Enjoy!

#whumptember2023 #teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #teen wolf fanfiction #fic rec #self rec #my fic #sugareey #altprompt two: You don’t deserve this #altprompt four: It should’ve been me

[whumptember]

Whumptember 2023 Alternate Prompts

rules | main prompts | tags and posting | ask box

1. Checking for a pulse

2. “You don’t deserve this.”

3. Hiding in a closet

4. “It should’ve been me.”

5.. Sunburn

6. Old habits

7. White knuckles

8. “I told you not to do that.”

9. Turned into decoration

10. Body modification

11. “I don’t think they remember me.”

12. Whumpee’s diary

13. “One more time.”

#whumptember #whumptember2023 #whump #whump prompt #whump idea #whump event

[iwritewhump]

"Is that blood?"

day 23 of @whumptember

302 words

warnings: captive whumpee

part one

---

Hero kicks the door open, sending it flying into the small room and smashing it to pieces against the wall. 

Villain starts awake, jolting up from a tattered mattress. 

“Oh, thank god,” Hero sighs. “Hurry, let’s get out of here.” 

Villain stares at her, blinking in disbelief. “What are you doing here? I-I told you not to come. I sent…what are you doing?”

She stands in front of him with her hands out in front of her, open for him. “I’ve been looking for you for months. I’m so sorry I didn’t listen to you that day, I should’ve listened. I’m so, so sorry.” 

He reluctantly lets her pull him into a hug, face turned against her chest to stare at the door. 

“Are you alright?” She asks, pulling away and holding him an arm’s width away from her, looking him over. “Is that blood?”

Her hand ghosts over a stain on his shirt and he pulls away, shrinking into himself. “It’s nothing.” 

“Bullshit,” she snaps. “Who did this to you?” 

He shakes his head and frowns, “You need to get out of here, leave. Now.” 

She pulls him up and walks them to the door, “We’re both getting out of here. Let’s go.” He freezes and digs his heels into the floor, standing firm in the room. “Villain, let’s go.” 

“They’re tracking me. Anywhere I go, they’ll know. Just leave me here, it’s not too bad.” he shrugs and tears his hand out of hers. “Besides, I’m alone for the most part.” 

“That’s not a good thing.” 

He sits back down on the ratty mattress and pulls his knees to his chest. Hero stares at him for a moment before nodding. 

“Alright, but I’ll figure something out and come back for you. Deal?” 

He smiles and nods, “I’ll count the days.” 

#whumptember #whumptember2023 #whumptember day 23 #villain whump #villain whumpee #hero caretaker #unknown whumper #captive whumpee #is that blood? #whump #whump writing #my writing #whump fic #whumpee #whumper #caretaker

[whumble-beeee]

Whumptember 2023, Day 16

“Can I go home now?”

Young whumpee | Captive | Chains around the wrists

The Bee’s Whumptember Masterlist

~940 words

CW: CREEPY WHUMPER, kidnapping, noncon touch, implied future noncon? (it's kinda vague but jic)

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

“Please, please, I– I don’t know what’s going on–... What– what are you gonna do wi– with me?...”

Whumper looked down into the bright shining eyes of their platoon’s latest catch, their breath hitching so pretty as they trembled against the wall, holding their shackled arms protectively crossed over their ribcage. Like a dead man walking. How fitting.

Whumper slowly inched closer to their captive prey. They were so young too. Must have been the type to enroll as soon as they turned eighteen. “Calm down, sweet thing, we just want some information. This’ll all go easier if you just let go, it’s gonna happen one way or the other…”

Whumpee did the opposite of that. They pressed themself further into the wall, eyes darting around wildly looking for any, any escape, sinking into themself and curling into the tightest ball they could manage, chain clinking as it fell across their legs and winded around to an eyelet in the floor. They were literally chained to the floor. They squeezed their eyes shut as they buried their head in their knees, crying incoherently. “Please, please, stay away, don’t touch me, please I do-on’t wanna die PLE-E-E-EAS-SE!”

Whumper crouched down in front of Whumpee, examining them with shining eyes. Sure, they were only supposed to get some information out of them; where the troops were headed, what weapons they had, that sort of thing. But Whumper couldn’t resist an opportunity like this.

Whumpee flinched when they ran their fingers through Whumpee’s hair, scratching at their scalp in a way that might have been soothing in another context.

 “Oh, sweet thing… you’re not really helping your case right now, are you?” Whumper cooed, lilting their head understandingly. “But I suppose you can’t be helped. You’re so small, just a baby…”

“I– I-I’m no-o-ot,” Whumpee hitched. They tried to duck away from Whumper’s tender hand, only to let out a yelp when Whumper grasped their hair and slammed their head back into the wall.

“You are, though.” 

Whumper drove Whumpee’s head back again. Whumpee could practically see stars dancing across the darkness at the sides of their vision. “Maybe if you were bigger, you could have prevented this, hm? Maybe you could have stopped us from slaughtering all your friends… Hell, maybe you could have won! Bigger, tougher, stronger, what if, what if…” Whumper tapped Whumpee’s head with a single finger. 

“But seeing as you’re not, you’ll do as I say. So get up. ”

They didn’t move. The world fuzzed around them, everything a dark grey smudge. They sure felt small.

“Get up.”

Get away get away getawaygetawaygetawaygetawaygetawaygetaway.

“GET UP!” Whumper raised their fist and slammed it down on Whumpee’s head. Whumpee cried out, their entire vision turning red and static-y.

“You gonna get the fuck up now?”

Whumpee shot up stock straight, so fast that they stood over Whumper for a moment as they too stood up to their full height. Any small sense of victory that held was shattered as Whumper towered over them once more. Whumpee was small compared to them, huh? No, no, Whumpee was average, Whumper was the one that was the fucking freak.

Nonetheless, Whumpee stared right up into Whumper’s patronizing eyes. “Th-there, is that what you wanted?” they spat, almost managing to control their shaking voice. “Can I– Can I go home now-w?”

The request was meant to be sarcastic. Rude. Defiant. But just the thought of them being able to go home? Away from this hell hole and the psychos that captured them, the ones who only seemed to care about tormenting and hurting them instead of interrogating them? It made Whumpee’s jaw tremble.

Whumper chuckled darkly, and Whumpee had to fight the urge to shrink into a little ball again. Whumper slammed them back into the wall and pinned them with their forearm, face so close that Whumpee could taste their disgusting breath.

“Oh, you really are adorable, sweetheart… Shame I’ll probably have to kill you, no?” Whumper drawled, holding their gaze with a wicked smile. Whumpee made sure to shoot back every ounce of hatred they could muster. Whumper brought their other hand up and ran their fingers gently down the line of Whumpee’s jaw. “But hey, I’ve got you here now. Lets have some fun, yeah?”

Whumpee kicked Whumper in the shin as hard as they could and shoved them away almost on reflex. Whumper stumbled back with an angry shriek, and Whumpee ran. There was no fucking way they’d ever let that–

The chain binding their hands went taut and yanked Whumpee backward, sweeping them in such a way that they landed prostrated right at Whumper’s feet. Whumper stomped on the chain linking their hands together, and on two of their fingers in the process, tweaking their hand painfully between the binding manacles. Whumpee cried out, in equal parts from frustration, grief, and pain. They curled in around themself again, tears spotting the filthy floor underneath them.

“You need to be taught some manners when you’re around your superiors.” Whumper tutted, anger edging the very corners of their voice like Whumpee was a dog that just scratched them. They twisted the heel back and forth, grinding Whumpee’s hand into what felt like a fine paste under the chain. Whumpee could barely do more than gasp and choke on their own throat in an effort not to scream.

“Luckily, we have all the time in the world.” Whumper clutched a handful of Whumpee’s hair again and pulled up, making Whumpee’s back arch painfully as they forced their desperate captive to look straight into their twisted smile.

 ”Where I can do whatever I want with you.”

@whumptember

#whumptember2023 #whumptember day 16 #day sixteen: can i go home now #day sixteen: young whumpee #day sixteen: captive #day sixteen: chains around the wrists #whump #whump writing #whumpee #whumper #whump scenario #writeblr #military whump #ehehehe #this one was fun to write

[its-my-whump]

26 Caretaker turned (accidental) whumper

TW: panic, gore, stabbing, emotional whump

"Stop it. It's me. It's over."

He was fighting against them. There were too many. He was blindfolded and furious. He was afraid. Hands on him. But it weren't as many as he thought for a brief moment.

Suddenly an opening. He yanked forward, the knife in his bound hands.

An obstacle. Some kind of barrier, he pushed through. The knife found a target. It penetrated flesh. Hardly any resistence.

He felt the air leaving someone’s lungs under his hands. He felt muscles constricting and releasing all at once, when he pulled the knife back.

He heard a heavy object going down. Someone went to their knees, his head concluded. He felt sticky stuff between his fingers. He smelled sweet, heavy, metallic odore in the immediate air.

He heard a gasp turning into heavy panting.

Satisfaction spread, when he made a step backwards. The pounding of his own blood rushing through his ears went to the background.

A groan somewhere by his feet. He smirked.

Stammered words, a voice about to break. What did his opponent have to say? He didn't care, as long as this were his last words.

"It..it's me caretaker."

His heart stopped. Blood froze inside his veins.

That was whumpee's voice just down by his feet. 'That couldn't be. How? Why? NO!"

The knife fell to the ground. Sticky hands went for his blindfold. The first thing he saw was whumpee's blood, whumpee's blood on his hands.

They were alone. There was no one else around.

He went to his knees, bound hands went for whumpee's face, touching a pale cheek.

Tears dropped from his own.

"What have I done?"

My whumptember2023 masterlist

#Whumptember2023 #Whumptember2023 day 26 #day 26: caretaker turned whumper #caretaker turned whumper #whump #writing #whump writing #whumpee caretaker #caretaker

[whump-card]

Whumptember Day Twenty-Eight

“I never should have let it come this far”

Failed hero | Hospital stay | Begging for help

Chronologically: 6

~1990 words

Masterlist

CW: discussion of past noncon, injury reveal, negative self-talk

~~~

“I’m looking for Sir Driemal, is he here?”

Ren stuck out like a sore thumb in the lobby of the fine inn. He was covered in dust and dirt, his shoes were caked in mud, and his hair was matted. All the result of walking for days and sleeping in ditches or barns. The inn’s attendant unsubtly wrinkled her nose at him.

“No, no Sir Driemal here.”

“Well, well what about…” Ren floundered in desperation, “Sir Cassius? Lady Richard? Any knights at all, are any staying here?”

“No,” the attendant said flatly, “I think you’d best be on your way.”

“But they said they’d be here, It’s only Saturday, they’re supposed to be here…” Ren couldn’t help the tears that sprang to his eyes. “Are there any knights here?”

“Try the poorhouse,” the attendant snapped.

“Ren!”

Ren spun around to see Sir Driemal in the doorway to the dining hall. The knight wasted no time striding forward, and almost seemed like he might hug Ren, before he caught himself.

“Ren, I’m so glad you came. I was so worried you wouldn’t be able to leave her.”

“I almost didn’t,” the words flowed out of Ren so easily when he spoke to Driemal.

“Good job, man!” Sir Driemal clapped a hand onto Ren’s shoulder, sending a jolt of electric excitement through Ren’s body and bringing a smile to his face. The knight turned to the attendant, who looked like she wished she could melt into the floor.

“Prepare a room for Ren here, if you will?” Sir Driemal requested.

“I’m terribly sorry, sir, but we’re full tonight,” she said, and this time it sounded like she was telling the truth.

“No matter!” Driemal squeezed Ren’s shoulder reassuringly, causing another buzz of delight, “He can stay in my room! Take his horse to the stables and have his luggage sent up to mine.”

“Oh, sir, I…” Ren’s smile melted; he wasn’t sure whether to be confused, embarrassed, or scared. “I don’t… I don’t have a horse. Or luggage.”

Sir Driemal blinked at him.

“You… You walked here?”

“Yes, sir.”

“With nothing?”

“Well - yes, sir.”

Sir Driemal dropped his hand from Ren’s shoulder and looked him up and down, as if noticing his ragged state for the first time. His face darkened with concern.

“We… I had no idea, that you… I would have thought you had a horse, I… I’m so sorry, Ren, we should have left money for you.”

Ren shook his head, horrified at the idea.

“No, no! I made it, that's all that matters.”

Driemal managed a guilty smile.

“You did. You did.” He turned back to the attendant, who quickly pretended she hadn’t been listening. “Set up a hot bath in my room, please.”

She chirped an agreement and Sir Driemal led Ren by the arm into the dining hall, where he let Ren collapse into a chair before bringing him mountains of fine food. Ren ate like a half-starved animal, because he was - for days now he’d been eating garbage and charity. Now he threw back meat pies and cheeses and ale with gusto. Driemal watched him with that same guilty smile. Ren flushed when he caught the knight staring.

“I’m sorry, sir. You must think me very ill-mannered.”

“No, I…” Sir Driemal shook his head, “I only wonder when you last ate.”

Ren didn’t answer.

Once he’d had his fill, Sir Driemal showed Ren to his room. Inn employees were just leaving, and a massive wooden tub of steaming water awaited inside, along with washcloths and towels on a side table. Sir Driemal went to his trunk and rooted around in it.

“The only spare sleeping-clothes I have is my summer set, I hope that’s alright.” He offered a bundle of white linen to Ren.

“That’s alright, sir,” Ren accepted them, then looked around. There was only one bed in the room, a massive four-poster. “Where will I sleep?”

“Do you mind sharing the bed? I won’t have you sleeping on the floor,” Sir Driemal said casually, “Besides, look at the size of that thing! We won’t bother each other.”

Too overwhelmed to decline, Ren nodded.

“I’m going back downstairs to iron out our plans with the others,” Sir Driemal said, “Take your time. Don’t wait up for me, I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

Ren was very suddenly alone. He set the clothes down on the side table, and brushed his fingers across the soft, clean fabric. Sir Driemal had no idea how kind he was.

Ren set to work, stripping down. Not wanting to immediately dirty the beautiful tub, he wetted a washcloth and scrubbed himself down twice before getting in to soak. The hot water was immensely soothing to his many bruises and aches. He could hardly believe that such a luxury was his to enjoy.

He stayed in the bath until it was tepid. Once he was clean and dry and able to comb his fingers through his damp hair without them catching, he picked up the sleeping-clothes and shook them out.

His heart sank.

They were indeed summer sleepwear. The top was sleeveless, and the bottoms would only reach his mid-thigh. They would leave countless bruises exposed, as well as his welt-covered shoulders. His hands clenched into fists around the fabric as his breath shook.

He’d just have to wake up before Sir Driemal did, and get dressed quickly. No problem.

He pulled on the clothes and went over to the bed. The far side was slightly mussed, so Ren approached the nearer and climbed under the covers. The bedding was incredibly soft, softer than Lady Twice’s, and smelled fresh and clean.

It also smelled a bit like Sir Driemal - saddlesoap and rosewater - which Ren didn’t mind. He tucked the blankets securely around his shoulders to hide his battered body. He intended to stay awake, to rehearse what he would say to Sir Driemal the next morning, to figure out how precisely to ask to be the knight’s manservant - but sleep seized him instantly.

~~~

When Sir Driemal awoke to delicate snores the next morning, he was confused for a brief moment; then he recalled the events of the previous night. Ren had made it. His journey had clearly been difficult - more difficult than it should have been - but he’d made it. Driemal thanked his lucky stars for the dozenth time, and rolled over to look at the man in question.

His breath caught in his throat.

The night before, Ren had been fully bundled under the covers and Driemal had thought nothing of it. Now, the blankets had slipped down, revealing Ren’s bare shoulder and the back of his neck where he lay on his side, facing away from Driemal. Angry dark red bruises, just starting to go green at the edges, spelled out the unmistakable pattern of belt marks on his shoulderblade. Sinister in a different way, brighter fingerprints were splayed across the back of Ren’s neck.

“Ren!” The name left Driemal’s lips before he could think, and as soon as it did he regretted it. He clearly hadn’t been supposed to see this, wasn’t supposed to know, and now Ren would feel forced to explain whatever had happened before he’d even had breakfast. He cursed himself internally as Ren drew in a breath and raised a hand to rub at his eyes for a moment before freezing with awareness; he could feel Driemal looking at him.

“Ren, I, I’m so sorry,” Driemal stammered, “I didn’t mean to see…”

Ren jerked the covers up over his shoulders and rolled to look at Driemal with bright, frightened eyes.

“It was Lady Twice, wasn’t it?” Again, in his barely-awake state, Driemal couldn’t stop himself from talking. “She beat you for us leaving - my god, Ren, this is all my fault!” he sat up in bed, “I should have done more to convince you to come with us. This never should have happened, I never should have let it come this far, Ren, I’m so sorry. I failed you.”

“Don’t say that,” Ren whispered.

“But it’s true, isn’t it?” Driemal said miserably, “You were hurt because of our actions. My actions. Is that why you came here with nothing, too? You fled?”

“That - I - I haven’t been entirely honest with you.” Ren looked away, fervently mumbling, “I shouldn’t have - I shouldn’t be sharing your bed, it’s disgusting, I… Look away.”

Driemal obediently shifted his back towards Ren.

“What are you talking about?”

He heard the blankets rustle and Ren’s bare feet pad across the floor.

“Sir… Where are my clothes?”

“Oh, um, I sent them to be laundered. I’m sorry, I was just -” Ren sobbed, and Driemal’s heart clenched. “Ren?”

“You can look,” Ren’s voice was muffled, “It doesn't matter anymore.”

Slowly, hesitantly, Driemal turned to look at Ren. He stood side-on to Driemal, his hands pressed to his face. The knight stifled a gasp when he registered Ren’s legs. His knees were scraped to hell, and red handprints marred his thighs. It was obvious evidence of a brutal and sustained assault.

“Ren, what…?”

“There were bandits on the road,” Ren rushed out his words, thick with tears, “And I thought they would let me keep my things if I serviced them, but they tricked me, and I shouldn’t have - I shouldn’t have slept in your bed after that, that was a horrible thing to do to you, sir, I just need my clothes back and then I can leave!”

Silence stretched out as Driemal processed this.

“Ren,” he said softly, and Ren’s shoulder’s tensed, “Ren, I don’t want you to leave.”

Ren shook his head, his hands still glued to his face.

“Ren,” Driemal started to get out of bed, “Please-”

Ren shrank away a step in reaction to Driemal’s movement. “Please don’t hit me!” he gasped into his palms.

Driemal stared, open-mouthed, his words trapped under his tongue. He was spared having to come up with an immediate response by a knock on the door.

“Laundry!” called a voice from beyond.

Driemal stood and moved slowly to the entry, his eyes trained on Ren. Ren stood completely frozen, still hiding his face. Driemal opened the door, blocking the employee’s view of Ren with his body, and received the bag of laundry with a quick thanks before quietly clicking the door closed. He dumped the contents of the bag onto the bed, and sorted out Ren’s things from his. Scooping them into a bundle, he approached the paralyzed manservant.

“Ren. Look at me, please?” he gently requested. Ren complied, lowering shaky hands and raising his gaze to meet Driemal’s. Ren’s face was red with suppressed tears, and his eyes were wide and his lips pursed with fear. Driemal took a breath.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” he said, willing his rough voice to be soothing, “I’ll go get dressed in Sir Cassius’ room while you get dressed here. Then we’ll all go to breakfast, together. Then you and I will go to a tailor and order you a new wardrobe. We’ll all stay here, in Faville, until it is ready, which will give you some time to recover. Then we’ll ride on, together, to… wherever Lady Richard decides we’re needed. Oh yes, and I’ll be buying you a horse.”

Ren gazed up at him for a long moment, and Driemal was struck with the urge to touch him, to rest a hand on his chest or his cheek, to offer some small comfort. He shifted the clothes in his arms and one hand twitched upward, but it was stalled by Ren nodding.

“Yes, sir,” the manservant whispered, carefully taking the bundle of clothes from the knight and casting his eyes respectfully downwards, “Thank you, sir.”

Driemal wanted Ren to feel safe with him. He wanted Ren to feel comfortable. But, he suddenly realized, that would take a while. He nodded brusquely, busied his overeager hands with gathering his own clothes, and made his exit.

He could wait.

#whump #whump fic #whump writing #whumptember2023 day 28 #whumptember2023 #day 28: I never should have let it come this far #cw past noncon #injury reveal #cw negative self-talk