#ailesswhumptoberday4

[hyperfixat]

AI LESS WHUMPTOBER DAY FOUR HIDING AN INJURY

support and engagement would really motivate me to help post and work on the rest of this stuff!

(@ailesswhumptober)

You desperately want to fit in with your demonic housemates, but it’s so hard sometimes. They’re so fast and strong, and all in all so much more capable than you… at times it’s embarrassing, or humiliating, but they don’t even have to show it off for you to notice everything they’re doing you could never dream of.

It is no secret that demons are more physically capable than humans, in terms of speed and strength, and everything important. You can’t resent them for this, they can’t control their anatomy, but it doesn’t stop you from resenting yourself.

If only you could run a little faster, jump a little higher, last a little longer. Being left behind, tears a hole into your heart, the fear of being forgotten, even worse, abandoned, drives you to push your limits.

Even when you’ve solidified a place in the family of the Avatars, anxiety still nags at you to push, push, push.

This is far from the first time you’ve injured yourself trying to keep up with the demons, and you’re fairly certain it won’t be the last. You ran a little too far, with strides too big for your body to handle and you damn near heard something tear.

Luckily, a couple steps after the injury, they were done dashing across campus. You walk inside RAD in line with them, suppressing winces and attempting to fix the limp your body begs to have.

“MC.” Lucifer’s voice calls to you as he approaches from the other end of the hall. The brothers around you quiet down and watch.

“Lucifer.” You stare back.

“Come with me, I need to talk with you. Privately.”

You hide your hobble as you take stride behind the demon and he pulls you into an empty classroom. Your leg aches at the impact of stumbling into the room, and Lucifer’s face twitches as you attempt to mask the pain.

“Are you feeling alright?”

“Of course, why do you ask?” You strain to keep your voice light and unbothered.

“You are injured. Do not lie.”

Damn him.

Huffing out your frustration you roll your eyes, “I’ll be fine. It’s nothing to worry about. Thank you for your-.”

The flippant way you attempt to dismiss his concern frustrates him. Lucifer’s eyes flash, light making the red look like lasers.

“If you do not tell me where you are injured we will do this my way. I will find out what is ailing you.” For a moment you wish to indulge him in that, see what his way is.

Lucifer holds another standoff (stare off) with you before you break.

“My ankle hurts.” You grumble the phrase, averting eye content.

“Good human,” Lucifer says way too casually. It makes your heart leap. Before you know it he’s kneeling in front of you. “This one?” he hovers his hands above your injured ankle. When you nod, he tugs your pant leg up and cuffs it.

Lucifer hums thoughtfully as he gently pulls your sock down and examines the bare skin of your ankle. It’s slightly reddened, darkened, due to the extra blood flow. Using his teeth, Lucifer tugs off his leather glove on his dominant hand and presses it to your bare skin. A light flow of magic and your ankle is good as new.

“Thank you. You didn’t need to do that.” He really didn’t, you’ve managed just fine without him thus far.

“Nonsense. Now, tell me, how did you come to obtain such an injury?”

Embarrassment leads you to lie. “I don’t know.”

“Lying again? I thought you were better than this, MC.” Disappointment from Lucifer hurts, but doesn’t thaw the embarrassment.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Ah, ah, ah, don’t go trying to run away.” Lucifer manages to stop you before you can even begin to flee back to his brothers with a firm hand on your hip.

Stubbornly refusing to talk to him, you avert your eyes and focus on a point just beyond Lucifer’s head.

“MC.” He scolds yet again. “We can stay here all day, little star.”

When you still do not relent, Lucifer moves his head into your line of sight.

“Your brothers are a bit faster than me, and I tripped over myself while keeping up to them. No big deal, Lucifer. Leave this alone.” Though you know saying such is futile, you cannot stop the words.

“Why wouldn’t you say something?” His eyes narrow. “I’ll need to have a talk with them. Don’t let this happen again.”

You let it happen again.

Well, almost.

Just before you go falling down into the harsh Devildom concrete a pair of hands wrap around your waist and settle your still dangling body into their hip bones. You look up and see Lucifer staring down at you, a single brow raised.

Your face heats, but neither of you say anything, and Lucifer’s stride doesn’t falter as he follows along his brothers.

#verified hyperfixat post #obey me #obey me x reader #obey me shall we date #obey me x mc #ailesswhumptober #ailesswhumptober2023 #ailesswhumptoberday4 #ailesswhumptoberhidinganinjury #ai less whumptober #ai less whumptober 2023 #lucifer x reader #om lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer x mc #lucifer obey me #obey me lucifer x reader

[tsubaki94]

4 Hiding an injury

Ai-less Whumptober

#danny phantom #art #danny fenton #fanart #sam manson #injury #bruises #makeup #friends #hiding injuries #whumptober #ailesswhumptober2023 #ailesswhumptoberday4 #ink #promarkers

[crash-bump-bring-the-whump]

Day 4 - Hiding an Injury

Hmmm this one was a toss-up, but I'm happy with this!

Oops forgot my pings! @ailesswhumptober and @whumperofworlds

TWs: burns, blood, torn skin, overworking

Mariano wasn't entirely sure that he hadn't died on the way to work that morning. He just couldn't be positive, because it felt like he'd been pulled into hell. There had been another nightmare, another case of his magic sparking during the night.

Bastian had helped him get his stomach bandaged this time so he was at least rested, but that didn't change the fact that he still had a twelve hour shift to get through. No one else could fill in to close, so he just decided to suck it up. It didn't make it more fun, though, especially since he didn't want any of the teenagers to realize he'd been injured. They had enough to worry about without him adding to it.

The kids were more than happy to do the reaching and bendingsince they got to tease him about getting old. Abby was sincerely excited to learn how to clean the ice maker, too. She happily hopped up onto the stepladder, scraping at the ice buildup like it had personally wronged her.

Really, Mariano was feeling decent until Abby went on lunch.

A small rush filed in, with impatient business people lining up to try the new seasonal drink. Jason had thought that a gingerbread mocha would be popular as winter started to roll in, and he'd proved right. People were seeing the little sign they'd made and deciding to give it a shot--and others were hearing the pleasantly surprised reactions when the people ahead of them tried it.

Mariano had already gone through the first gingerbread crumb container and the backup crumb container. He felt a weight settle into his stomach as he scooped up the last bits inside for the latest mocha. "I'll be right back," He said apologetically as the next person stepped up and ordered the umpteenth gingerbread mocha of the hour. "Just getting more from the back."

His side throbbed as he walked to the storeroom and reached up above his head. Mariano swallowed down a whine as a chill shot through his gut. Abby was right there at the tiny table with only one earbud in. She needed to finish taking her break in peace.

"Need any help, gramps?" She called casually, seeming to realize what he was doing. "Don't throw out your back."

He laughed, managing to keep his voice from sounding too strained as the bandages rubbed against the raw skin of his burn. "No, no, you're on break. I just need more gingerbread." The crumb was almost in reach as he started inching the package forward with his fingertips. He needed to have another talk with them about not putting heavy things up so high.

"Good god, they're like sharks for that stuff." She snorted. He didn't hear her getting up. "Weird holiday sharks. They don't want blood, they want cinnamon and ginger."

"Maybe we need to tell Jason to have worse ideas in pre-calculus--" Mariano's flat joke was cut off by two things happening at once. He felt warmth start to drip down his stomach, blooming into the bandage as the burn tore open, and he felt his hold on the box slip.

He cursed as the box's weight dropped onto his face and sent the world exploding into stars and the smell of blood. He staggered as the thunk of the box hitting the floor filled the tiny area and made Abby yelp in surprise.

As Mariano brought his hand up to cup his nose, he felt his shoulder hit the wall. Abby's shoes squeaked around the corner, and he heard her gasp. "Oh--shit." She hurried closer. "Oh that's--that's a lot of blood."

Mariano blinked hard, shaking his head. "It's--it's alright. It's okay. Noses bleed a lot." He sounded like he had the worst cold of his life.

"No--Mariano, your stomach is like, gushing blood." The tremble in Abby's voice made him look down. As she'd said, blood was spreading along the lower half of his sweater, right over where he'd burned himself the night before.

"...Ah." He said, settling into a familiar calm. "Abby, I'm sorry. Could you get the first aid kit from the bathroom and bring it to the office? I can handle this, it looks much worse than it is."

"What's going on?" She demanded, not moving just yet. She was getting louder, and sounding more nervous. "What's happening? Do I need to call emergency services?"

"I have a burn on my stomach, and I think I just stretched the skin too far." Mariano said, meeting her eye and keeping his voice level. "It's not an emergency. I've dealt with this before. Take a deep breath."

Abby nodded, taking a deep breath in and holding it. She let it go after a few seconds, seeming calmer when Mariano nodded again, encouragingly at her. "Okay. First aid kit, office, then I'll go finish up the rush." She darted towards the door before he could stop her. "And you can't tell me no! I'll just finish my break later!"

Mariano couldn't help feeling warm about her being so insistent. He took a seat in the peeling computer chair, promised Abby that she could have whatever pastry she wanted in exchange for the first aid kit when she came back with it, and took a deep breath. Abby had the customers handled, and as he peeled his bloody sweater from his stomach, he knew he had himself handled.

#ailesswhumptober2023 #ailesswhumptoberday4 #Day 4 #hidden injury #Burns #Blood #Overworking #Making an injury worse #mage of violence #Modern au #One day I'll tag my aus properly #One day

[lilac-gold]

Hiding an injury

AI-less Whumptober: Day 4 Hiding an injury | Betrayal | Lying @ailesswhumptober

Fandom: OMORI Rating: Teen Word Count: 1730 Summary: Mari’s supposed to be perfect, not go running for help. Hero’s got enough of her worries on his plate without her bad knee too. AO3 LINK

Mari loved being active, playing softball especially. The adrenaline kick it gave her made her feel like she could do anything, Mari always feeling especially good after a game. Besides, it gave her something to focus on that wasn’t her schoolwork, and she enjoyed the competition. She was a perfectionist with a high drive to succeed, and that meant that she put a whole lot of effort into playing.

So, when Mari injured her knee, she was devastated she wasn’t allowed to keep playing. It was sprained, so she had to wear a brace. Apparently, she’d ‘torn her anterior cruciate ligament’ during a match. Mari wasn’t quite sure what that meant, but she knew it was bad.

It had hurt a lot when she first sprained it. She’d felt and heard a sickening pop, crashing to the floor as her legs failed to support her. Her knee buckled painfully beneath her when she tried to stand again, white-hot agony lacing through her entire leg. She’d been rushed to a hospital, given a diagnosis and some stretches to do, and strictly ordered not to play any sports for at least a month.

So she didn’t. And Mari felt useless.

She missed the rush of running, missed being able to carry Sunny around on her back without everyone fussing over her. She rushed the exercises she was given, doing them three times more than advised to in the hope that it would hasten her recovery further. Mari had to be perfect, and that wasn’t possible with a bad knee! It limited her far too much.

It was embarrassing, sitting out of gym lessons with the feeble excuse of a knee brace. Even as Hero lamented about how he wished he could sit at the side with her, Mari remained completely dissatisfied with her predicament. As soon as she got home, it was always ‘ooh, Mari, how’s your knee?’ or ‘Mari, make sure you’re taking it easy on that bad knee!’ or ‘be careful, Mari, remember you’ve got a sprained knee’. She was sick of being treated like she was made of glass. Mari was strong. Mari was capable. Mari was perfect.

And that meant that when it began to hurt a little more than usual, Mari said nothing.

It throbbed when she went upstairs, ached when she stayed sat in one position for too long, twanged unpleasantly whenever she stood up. But it was nothing she couldn’t handle! Mari was perfect after all, and would be fourteen in a month. She didn’t need coddling like a baby.

She went out with Hero one day to Gino’s, assuring him that she was completely fine. It was sweet that Hero was so worried about her, but it really wasn’t necessary. Her injury was minor. The constant fretting honestly bothered her more than the wound itself, and Mari was able to mask her grimace of pain quite well as she sat at one of the tables. She’d left her brace at home, put-out by the reminder it posed of her injury and figuring that it must have healed enough by that point that she could just leave the device at home. The grinding feeling that arose when she took her seat wasn’t exactly reassuring, but Mari ignored it steadfastly, clenching her fist under the table.

“I’ll go order food. You’d like a margherita pizza, right? No pepperoni?” Hero checked, fumbling through his pockets for his wallet.

“You got it,” Mari laughed. She didn’t much like pepperoni, it was too spicy for her tastes– and, in her opinion, vegetables had no place on a pizza. So, she stuck to cheese, and enjoyed it, no matter how plain her younger friends (especially Kel, who put the strangest toppings imaginable on his own) sometimes claimed her pizzas were. “Don’t worry, Hero, I’ll pay for mine.”

Hero shook his head. “I insist.”

“Thank you,” Mari smiled at him, enjoying the way his face quickly grew pinker. Unable to resist, she added on teasingly, “you’re a true gentleman, Hero.”

“Ah– um, yes, of course– I…” Hero fumbled, the pink shifting to a more red colour. Mari stifled a laugh. Hero looked rather like a tomato. “It’s no problem.”

And he hurried off to the till, practically leaving a trail of steam behind him. Mari shivered slightly. Despite the internal heating at Gino’s, it was still a very chilly February day, and every time the door opened, a frosty draught blew in. Hero soon returned with the pizzas, Mari eagerly taking a bite of her own then recoiling, wincing as the pizza burnt her tongue.

“Too hot?” Hero guessed, then grimaced sympathetically at her nod before placing his sandwich on the table. “It’s all good, we can wait for a little while first.”

“You can start, Hero, I really don’t mind,” she assured him, touched.

“The point of this is that we eat together, Mari, and it’s not exactly like my sandwich’s going to go cold, hah. Besides, I like talking with you,” he grinned sincerely at her, and that time, it was Mari who flushed, tugging at her coat sleeves.

“I like talking with you too,” She responded brightly, then quickly changed the subject. “What did Gino think of you ordering a Hero sandwich again?”

“I think he’s given up on trying to convince me now,” Hero rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “He just… Looks a little constipated whenever I ask. His face scrunches up, it’s like I’ve told him his great aunt just passed away.”

Mari giggled. “I don’t know why he still keeps it on the menu.”

Hero shrugged helplessly. “I’m not sure if he knows how to print a new one.”

A smile still wide across her face, as was always the case when she was with Hero, Mari cautiously took another bite of her pizza. Now, it was just the right temperature, warm against her tongue without hurting in the slightest. The bit she’d burnt before smarted a little, but it was ignored easily enough. She opened her mouth to continue their conversation–

And had to suppress a gasp when the door swung open again, chilly draught going straight to her knee. Quietly as she could, she inhaled through her teeth, feeling a sharp spike of pain under her skin.

“Mari?” Hero said uncertainly, and Mari jumped. He must have noticed her tightened expression, because his eyebrows had knitted in concern. Darn it. “Are you okay? Is your knee hurting again?”

“It’s fine!” She blurted out quickly– a little too quickly, perhaps, if the doubt in Hero’s worried eyes was anything to go by. “I’m okay.”

Hero didn’t look convinced, but there wasn’t really much he could do to argue with her. He handled so much, all the time. Whenever there was a possibility he could help with something, Hero offered his assistance, and never once complained when given tasks that shouldn’t be his responsibility. Mari admired how selfless he was, but Hero (a little like herself) had a tendency to take on too much at once. He didn’t need her knee on top of his preexisting worries. That was Mari’s problem, not his.

He was always there to listen, always there to help. But Mari had piled enough of her worries onto him anyway, it wasn’t fair to force him to carry this too. Mari was strong. Mari could handle this herself.

They finished their food, and began walking around Faraway. With each bend of her knee, that grinding feeling began again, Mari feeling nausea well within her at the feeling of her bones rubbing together. When they finally reached the park, she readily sat down on a bench, unconsciously stretching her knee out and sighing in relief.

She turned to look at Hero with a relaxed smile, expecting to be met with his signature charming grin, only for her stomach to sink at Hero’s stricken face. 

“...Where’s your brace, Mari?” He asked warily, carefully scanning her knee.

Shoot. Maybe she should have brought the brace after all.

“It’s um… At home,” Mari winced at Hero’s alarmed expression. “What?! Why? Is it broken? You should have told me! We didn’t have to go out today,” Hero said, clearly upset. Mari felt shame curl in her stomach.

“No, no, I’m fine!” Mari assured him. To prove her point, she tried standing up. “See?”

It was fine for a moment, Mari able to support her weight and hiding her grimace at that creaking feeling once again.

Then, her knee collapsed in on itself again, and she crumpled to the floor. Hero dived forward, catching her before she could hit the concrete and graze her skin, panic painted clear as day across his face. Mari’s knee throbbed, feeling swollen and sore.

“...Okay, I might need some help,” she admitted softly, turning away a little.

Hero’s jaw set, face hardening in determination. And, much to Mari’s surprise, he lifted her straight off of the ground. She gasped, eyebrows raising as a blush spread across her face.

“H-Hero–” She exclaimed, instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck. “I thought you weren’t strong enough to do this sort of thing!”

He grinned bashfully. “You carry a guy’s fridge enough times and it gets easy to pick up a Mari.”

He began walking, making a beeline for their houses. Mari was a little disappointed, having been thoroughly enjoying their outing (sans the pain). Still, this was necessary, and she had to admit that she did need a little help, lest her knee fail to support her again. That was the only reason she let Hero carry her home. The only one. Definitely.

He was very careful with her leg, trying his best not to jostle her as he walked, each step careful and purposeful. Soon, they arrived at her house, and Hero laid her down on her couch. Mari tried to hide both her disappointment and the hiss of pain at the change of positions.

“I’ll go find your brace and your mom,” Hero told her, knowing her dad worked on Sundays and she wouldn’t want him involved in this anyway. For all he cared about her, he could be a little… Overprotective at times. “I’ll be back in a minute!”

And as she laid back on the couch, waiting for Hero’s return, Mari considered that maybe, just maybe, asking for help wasn’t quite as mortifying as she’d first thought.

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#mari omori #omori mari #ailesswhumptober2023 #ailesswhumptoberday4 #hiding an injury #hidden injury #sprained knee #i did so much research for this hsjfhghk #reddit discussions on mari's knee #going to healthline for info #finding out what softball is... #i've been having a blast #omori #omori game #omori hero #hero omori #heromari #picnic basket #picnic sandwich #they have so many ship names #they're so cute #omori heromari #omori sunny #omori fanfiction #fanfiction writer #ao3 writer #pre canon #no omori spoilers

[actualdickgrayson]

Day 4 Whumptober entry for @ailesswhumptober

Prompt: Hiding an injury

#dick grayson #nightwing #batman #jason todd #red hood #dickjay #jaydick #ailesswhumptober2023 #ailesswhumptoberday4

[whumpeewhumpwhump]

(AI-less) Whumptober 4: Hiding an Injury

(This took so much longer than I wanted it too. Was originally going to use Original Characters from my WIP, but they said no. Still fun)

~~

Prompt 4: Hiding an Injury

Leader didn’t want to scare their Youngest Teammate. Being captured was bad enough. The injuries though...

It wasn’t meant to be a mission where anyone on the Team could be captured, but with their luck it was a given. A simple retcon turned into a hostage situation.

Leader and Youngest Teammate had been tied and thrown into a nondescript room. Unfortunately for Leader, both of them were unconscious when the throwing in happened, so they had no idea where this nondescript room could be. From Leader's experience, though, it looked like an office in a warehouse. Initially, they couldn’t help the chuckle that realization came to them. What were the odds that this was the same nondescript office that one of their many villains had used before. There couldn’t be that many warehouses in the city.

The thought drifted away quickly when Leader heard muffled sniffles from Youngest Teammate.

Leader closed their eyes before they turned to comfort them. Leader made sure to make Youngest Teammate understand that they wouldn’t let anything happen to them. Which was the truth.

Of course, Villain knew that too. Which is why they were the pair that were snatched up.

It had been a couple days and Leader has being marched (really, dragged) back to the nondescript office they shared with Youngest Teammate. Without a warning, Villain’s goons opened the door to the office and tossed Leader into the room. With their hands tied behind their back, there was nothing Leader could do to save themself from a face plant onto the hard concrete. Leader grunted. That was a broken nose for sure.

Immediately after the door closed, Youngest Teammate scooted closer to them, their breathing ragged with worry and fear.

“Leader? Are you alright?” they asked, their voice quivering.

Leader took a couple breaths, centering themself. Everything hurt. They took count of their aches and pains. Their nose bled freely. There was no hiding that from Youngest Teammate. The others, though… they had to thank Villain for the placement. A couple of ribs were at the very least bruised, but very likely broken. There were welts covering their back where Villain had whipped them bloody. The thing that hurt them the most, though, were the fresh cuts carved into their chest by Villain. 

But Youngest Teammate couldn’t know that.

With a grunt of effort, Leader rolled on their back, uncomfortably. Their hands dug into their ruined back, but they put on a smile nonetheless. They had been through worse.

“I’m fine, kiddo,” they said, easily, “Just a few bumps and bruises, that’s all,”

Youngest Teammate’s brow furrowed as they looked down at Leader. “Why do I have a feeling you’re lying to me?”

Leader closed their eyes and shook their head. Their heart broke for a moment at Youngest Teammate’s hopeless tone. “No chance, kiddo. Villain ain’t got nothing on ol’ Leader here. Anything he serves me I can dish it right back. Trust me, when the rest of the Team gets here, Villain's gonna be in a whole world of trouble,”

All was quiet for a moment before Leader heard Youngest Teammate shuffle over to them. Youngest Teammate grabbed Leader under the arm and helped them sit up. Leader let out a grunt of pain and Youngest Teammate stopped moving. They gave Leader a look of mixed horror, pity, and fear.

Leader’s voiced lowered, “Just because I can handle it, doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. You can help me sit up, I’ll be fine,”

Slower than before, Youngest Teammate continued and helped Leader lean against the far wall of the room. A sweat broke out on Leader’s forehead and once Youngest Teammate had placed them against the wall, Leader was breathing heavily. Youngest Teammate sat on their heels, watching Leader carefully. Leader gave them a sideways glance.

“Don’t worry, kiddo,” Leader said. “You rest, I’ll take the first watch,”

Youngest Teammate looked at them incredulously, “What? No, I’ll—”

“Lay down,” Leader tried to say with a chuckle. It came out more like a pained strain. “You deserve to rest just as much as me,”

It didn’t take much more convincing than that until Youngest Teammate curled up in a corner of the room and tried to rest. Leader watched their breathing for a moment. Once their breathing evened out, they leaned their head against the wall. They wouldn’t be able to last much longer. Leader wouldn’t give anything up to Villain, they knew that, but if Villain decided to go too far in their torturous interrogation… Leader couldn’t let Youngest Teammate go through this. They were too young. They didn’t deserve this. 

All they could wish for was the rest of the Team to find them. And soon. Before it was too late.

#ailesswhumptober2023 #whump scenario #ailesswhumptoberday4 #i stg i had such a good one planned for some ocs #they didn't want to cooperate #Anyway here's one inspired by a star trek fanfic that also had me in a chokehold #ingenious bastard 20/10 great whump

[bloodsweatandpotato]

Day 4

Betrayal

Fandom: My fnaf au

Characters: Scott (oc)

Tw: Survivor’s guilt, implied s/h, implied suicidal thoughts

Summary: Scott weathers another night with a new employee.

The clock sounded 6:00, and all Scott felt was the sick twist of guilt in his gut. He could hear the betrayal in the other’s voice as they called to him from the other office, voice ringing down the hall.

It was their first day. Scott hated first days.

This one wasn’t the worst, though.

It was better when they swore at him, honestly. Better when they cursed and spat and threw fists.

It was the quiet, wavering, in shock ones he couldn’t stand. The quiet, unbreathing, bloodied ones that he couldn’t stand even more.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you!” Rang out.

Scott hadn’t died yet. Though many (most not human) had tried. He involuntarily smiled, knowing he looked almost insane.

“At least you’re alive to be angry! That counts for something!” He called back.

It did. It did more than the other person in the other room could ever imagine.

It meant Scott could sleep that night (day?), meant he had one less tally mark to add to his ever growing list, meant he had one more reason to put the razor down when the bad days came and he found himself standing in the bathroom, feet bare on the cold tile, blade pressed to his skin just hard enough to leave a faint pink indent.

Because even if he had betrayed the other person, had thrown them in blind and let them flounder, they had survived.

And if they hated him, so be it.

He could handle being Judge and Jury if he didn’t have to be Executioner.

And when Scott felt the punch land square on his jaw and stars burst in front of his eyes, movement powered by anger and adrenaline and betrayal, he just smiled and took it.

#whump #whump writing #fnaf au #ailesswhumptober2023 #ailesswhumptoberday4 #whumpblr #whump community

[shion-yu]

Day 4 - Lying

Shu keeps getting sick, but Julian doesn't seem to mind. Whumptober 2023! I’m using the @ailesswhumptober's prompt list. This story is about my OC Shu - here’s his profile if you’re so inclined: https://toyhou.se/23743470.shumei-tw 

TWs: Medical abuse and manipulation! Although it's not obvious in this one.

Shumei lay in bed sniffling into a tissue for what seemed like the millionth time this year. It was, in fact, the fourth time, but for someone who was used to catching perhaps one or two colds per year that were mild enough to still work through, this was a huge contrast. He wasn’t sure what was wrong with him. Was it just that he was getting old that his immune system decided to completely fail him? He was thirty-five for God’s sake, he wasn’t that old.

But he felt like it. He felt like he was falling apart - physically, and as a result, emotionally. He was used to being strong, working through anything. He’d gone to work with such a bad fever that he’d fainted before for once, and even then he’d only taken two days off. This was different, though. These colds were so frequent that they were wearing him down until he had no energy left to protest when Julian called him into work yet again. Maybe if he was single he’d still be pushing himself to go in, but Julian was a doctor. He knew best, and he told Shu he really needed to stay home. So Shu listened even though he felt so guilty about letting his colleagues down that it only added to his misery.

Julian was incredible. Shu had no idea how his boyfriend put up with him. He worried it was just obligation but Julian insisted it wasn’t. He cared more about Shu and Shu’s health than anything, he told Shu over and over again. It made Shu cry knowing he had such a wonderful boyfriend who always took care of him even though he felt like he was a mess these days. When he looked at himself in the mirror, he couldn’t see traces of anything handsome left. Just someone who looked exhausted and sick. He’d started leaving the bathroom cabinet over the sink open just so he didn’t have to look at himself while washing his hands.

Julian came into the room with yet another hot bowl of rice porridge for him. Shu didn’t seem to be able to stomach much else when he was ill. His mom had taught Julian how to make it and while it wasn’t the same as his mother’s congee, it was surprisingly good. Shu pushed himself up in bed, coughing miserably. “Thanks,” he croaked out. 

“It’s my pleasure, my love,” Julian said, kissing him on the cheek. He looked as perfect as ever, his beautiful brown hair styled flawlessly without even trying. 

Shu wiggled away from the kiss just a little. “You’re going to catch this.”

Julian laughed. “You know I never catch your colds. Besides, I’m a doctor, my immune system is made out of steel.” He held one arm up in a fake show of muscle and whipped his winning smile out. Shu forced himself to return the smile weakly. Julian always tried to cheer him up so much. He was the best partner in the entire world and Shu felt like he couldn’t give anything back to him anymore. 

“I’m sorry...” He said quietly, hanging his head in shame. 

“How many times do I have to tell you, stop apologizing for being sick. You can’t help it,” Julian said matter of factly. “And I like taking care of you. It’s fine.”

“There’s no way you like it,” Shu mumbled. “Not for the fourth time in a row.”

“But you’re adorable when you’re sick,” Julian said, eyes sparkling. He kissed Shu again, this time on his inflamed red nose. Shu sighed. He had no way of knowing just how much Julian meant that.

#ShionWrites #oc: Shu #ailesswhumptober2023 #ailesswhumptoberday4 #ailesswhumptober #day 4 #whump #sickfic #sick whump #medical whump #illness whump #male whump #angst #day 3 #hurt/comfort #fever whump #fever kink #illness kink #medical abuse #medical torture

[lilac-gold]

Day 4- Omori AU Whumptober 2023

AI-less Whumptober Day 4- ALT Prompt Drowning

@ailesswhumptober

Fandom: OMORI Rating: Teen Word Count: 2283 Summary: Rococo cannot swim. Unfortunately, there is a lake at Camp Headspace, and he’s just been pushed into it. AU: Summer Camp AO3 LINK See this post for a summary/explanation of the AU

Rococo had just finished his latest piece of art, and in his expert opinion, it was his finest creation yet. Over the course of the summer, he'd developed his skill significantly, going from crayons to pencils to biros, from sketching to painting to everything.

He’d been working on his realism as of late, so his most recent picture was a portrait. It depicted Spaceboy, donned in full space pirate attire. He’d even added a cape and eyepatch! It was bright and colourful, just like Spaceboy was, and the background was covered in shiny, silver, stuck-on stars. Rococo could hardly wait to show it to everyone.

The first person he found was Spaceboy, who was overjoyed, saying that he looked like ‘a real space pirate'. Rococo grinned proudly at that. The next was Kim, who was in a rush but offered a quick 'good job, kid' nonetheless. Then it was Jawsum, who (as Rococo expected), offered to buy it. They agreed to organise commissions at a later date, Rococo planning to give the painting to Spaceboy that evening.

Then, he spotted Marina.

“Hi, Marina!” He waved, forcing down his apprehension at her stormy face. Marina was unpredictable at the best of times, and right now, she did not look happy. Rococo was reminded uncannily of her expression a few days prior, when she dissected a bunny she found in the forest. “Wanna see my picture?”

"No," She replied shortly, snippily. Rococo's eyes widened pleasingly. 

"Please?" Rococo begged, following her as she began to stomp away.

“Go away, Rococo,” She glared at him huffily, folding her arms. Rococo wilted a little. “I’m not in the mood for your stupid art.”

“It’s not stupid!” Rococo cried out defensively. “Art is le magnificent! It is–”

“Yeah, yeah, I get the idea,” She rolled her eyes. Thinly veiled curiosity sparkling in them, she asked, “What’d ya’ draw?”

He brightened up again, displaying his beautiful portrait to her. “Spaceboy.”

“Lame,” Marina sighed. “He’s boring. Why didn’t you draw me instead?”

“Oh– well, I– um…” Rococo stuttered, then shook his head a little. “I will be sure to draw you next time, Marina. I just… Enjoy making pictures of Spaceboy, too!”

“Never mind, I don’t want you to,” she said dismissively, peering down at a bug she’d spotted on the ground.

“What? Why not?” Rococo asked, rather put-out.

“I don’t like your art,” Marina shrugged, crushing the bug with her boot. “Not my thing. Too flashy. Not enough blood.”

“Not enough blood?!” Rococo echoed, incredulous and indignant to the highest degree.

Marina nodded sagely. “You can never have too much blood in your pictures. Yours don’t have any, so they suck.”

“Le gasp!” Rococo gasped Frenchly, holding a hand to his heart. “Well, your experiments suck more!”

“At least I’m not a failing artist,” she shot back angrily.

“How dare you?! I’m not failing! Jawsum’s going to commission me later!” Rococo stuck his chin out.

“Who would buy that?” Marina snorted derisively. “I’m no artist, but neither are you, Rococo.”

“Hmph! I’ll show you,” Rococo crossed his arms, saying petulantly, “It’s hardly like you’re a proper scientist. You just cut up poor, innocent little animals and claim that it’s for the sake of research. It’s concerning.”

“Hey!” She growled, fists clenching. “I am a scientist!”

“Nobody’s going to listen to your findings unless you portray them well,” Rococo told her derisively, having perfected his condescending tone by the time he was eight. Sweetheart was a great example, and he was exposed to hers constantly.. “And you are awful at talking to people. You need to be charming and charismatic, Marina! Like Hero. And like me. You’re just scary.”

“Scary?!” Marina glared daggers at him. “I’ll show you scary–”

“What’s going on over here?” Aubrey walked over to them, twirling her bat casually in her hand, and Rococo couldn’t help but stare at it. He knew Aubrey wouldn’t harm them, but her bat sure did look like it could do some damage.

“Rococo said I’m scary,” Marina blurted out, folding her arms tighter.

“Marina insulted my art!” Rococo added on grumpily.

“Just stay away from each other for a while,” Aubrey told them, sighing. “Why can’t you campers get along? You’re as bad as Kel and I were at your age.”

“You mean as bad as you are now,” Marina muttered unpleasantly.

But Aubrey just huffed a laugh and ushered them in opposite directions. Rococo sulked for a while, musing over his latest piece. Maybe it wasn’t quite as magnificent as he’d first thought. Now that he looked at it properly, the proportions were a little off, and the colours not quite as bright as he’d like. Spaceeboy’s smile was lopsided, the sky was darker in some places than others, and the fineliner marks were too thick around Spaceboy’s ear accessories (Rococo had initially forgotten to add them so had to draw over the ears.

There was always room for improvement! His next masterpiece would simply have to be even more breathtaking. Marina’s feedback was actually helpful, if he squinted very, very hard. He did tend to avoid reds, and they could probably make some of his pictures more stark. Blood grossed him out a bit, but it wouldn’t hurt to try drawing some, he supposed…

“–was actually thinking the lake,” he heard a voice say from nearby. Marina. In his gloomy walk around camp, he’d wound up on the other side of it, near the girls’ cabin.

“Really, Marina?” He heard her older sister, Molly, exclaim in surprise. Rococo had always been curious, so couldn’t help but listen in. “That’s not typically your style, darling.”

“I know,” he heard Marin a reply. “Still. I figured it would be a good idea after what he said.”

“If you’re certain, Marina,” Medusa, the youngest and most terrifying of the sisters– how someone so small could have such an intense death stare, Rococo didn’t know– replied. “Then I say you ought to go for it. Such hostility towards you cannot be permitted.”

“I’ll leave him a letter, telling him to meet at the lake. Then, I’ll show him what I really meant to say.”

Rococo, entirely missing the sinister undertone to her voice, raised his eyebrows in pleasant surprise. It seemed that Marina wanted to reconcile, putting their differences behind them. Besides, the lake would be an amazing place for him to paint! He had just gotten a new set of watercolours, after all…

He feigned confusion when Spaceboy gave him the letter, seemingly sent as the sisters’ errand boy. Its contents were exactly what he expected, requesting he meet Marina at the lake, but Rococo was an excellent actor, so Spaceboy was none the wiser when he expressed his apparent befuddlement. He always did have a flair for the dramatics…

“Le gasp!” He lifted his hands to either side of his face, clearly shocked. “It appears that Marina wants to apologise to me. As she should, that little fillet mignon!”

“Good luck making up with her! I know how tricky Marina can be to handle,” Spaceboy smiled widely at him. “I’d be happy to help if you wanted any!”

“Really? You would do that?” Rococo asked, beginning to beam himself before faltering a little. “Alas… This is something I must do alone. I would not want to upset her by dragging you into our feud, and thus… I must go alone.”

“Okay,” Spaceboy agreed, clearly trying to hide his devastation at being denied. That smile had to be a facade! Anyone would pay millions to accompany him for even a second upon realising his talent, and Spaceboy had witnessed it firsthand! “Bye, Rococo!”

And so, Rococo began his epic journey. In the woods, he battled spiders, rocks, thorns; the terrain was treacherous, but it was nothing the great artiste Rococo couldn’t handle! At one point, he battled with a tree, his hair tugged by its sharp and twisting branches as he struggled to get free. He won that battle, as he did every fight. Eventually, he made his way to the lake, scanning the area for Marina.

There was no sight of her.

“Marina?” He called out cautiously. “Marina?!”

No reply. It appeared that he had been tricked. 

Sighing, Rococo took a step towards the lake. His tussle with the forest had left him a little disorderly, so he gazed into his reflection closely, picking out pieces of twigs and leaves from his glorious locks. Rococo was not made for the woods. Perhaps he ought to have tied his hair up before setting out into it alone.

The water was perfectly tranquil, and as Rococo looked over it, he realised just how stunning it actually was. The sun was starting to set a little, shades of pink and orange dancing across the sky, a warm gradient running across it that was reflected in the lake before him. Rococo’s mouth dropped a little in wonder, forming a round ‘o’ shape. He’d never quite noticed just how pretty it could look before.

He considered sitting down for a while to continue surveying the wonderful view. He would lounge across the healthy green grass, watch the sun slowly go down as the water glittered. See the beautiful pinks and reds of the sky gradually darkening into a cool shade of cerulean, breathe in the lovely forest air. Enjoy the peace and quiet, rest for a while away from the chaos of camp. Rococo breathed in deeply, marvelling at the lake before him–

And gasped in shock as he was unceremoniously shoved into its waters.

His arms flailed, time seeming to slow down for a second as Rococo stared, wide-eyed, at the rapidly approaching azure below him. It no longer sparkled, overcast by his shadow, the blue seeming vast and all-encompassing.

Rococo was powerless to stop himself from crashing in, the seconds unfreezing themselves and seeming to pass twice as quickly to compensate. His gasp was cut short by a sudden flood of water, Rococo choking on the liquid as it slid uncomfortably down his throat. His lungs quickly tried to expel the unwanted fluid, Rococo coughing painfully and desperately trying to kick towards the surface. The water was freezing, far colder than he’d expected, shocking his system and forcing his eyes wide open in panic even as they stung from the lake water. He tried peering through the darkness, but all he could see was black.

Every sound was muffled, Rococo’s ears popping disconcertingly as his nose filled with water too, feeling strange and out-of-place. His skin numbed with the cold enclosing him, Rococo shuddering as it seemed to seep into his bones. He forced his coughs to stop, focusing on kicking upwards fruitlessly, his heavy clothes weighing him down. The watercolours in his pocket would be ruined by this point. That seemed like a silly thing to worry about just then, but Rococo still felt a spike of disappointment rise in him all the same.

This whole thing wouldn’t be such a problem if he knew how to swim, but in his neighbourhood, there were no pools whatsoever. So Rococo was left throwing his arms and legs about without a clue of what he was supposed to do, desperately trying to hold in the remaining oxygen he had. His head spun with the burning need to breathe out, colourful spots beginning to pierce the black all around him. Rococo was suddenly hit with the realisation that he was going to die.

He didn’t want to die. He had so much left to do! He had to harness his skill and be the best man at Sweetheart’s wedding and fund Spaceboy’s trip to the stars with his commission money! Rococo couldn’t die, not yet, he refused to.

But no matter how much he protested the notion, Rococo’s lungs expelled what little air they had left eventually, and all that was left to breathe in was water. He choked and spluttered, only causing more of the blasted liquid to flood into his system. Inside of his lungs, there was a sensation that seemed tearing and burning all at once, far too different from the unforgiving cold all around him. Panic engulfed him in waves, the hot tears budding in his eyes a stark contrast to the omnipresent cold surrounding him. Rococo was going to die. He was going to die alone, in a lake, surrounded by the pressure of hundreds of gallons of water.

Marina must have pushed him, Rococo registered distantly, remembering the sharp shove against his shoulderblades. She’d wanted this to happen. And for what? To prove she was stronger than him? For all he knew, this was just another of her experiments. He was simply unfortunate enough to be selected as the test subject.

He was going to miss Sweetheart when he died. Sweetheart and his grandma and his friends at Camp Headspace. Rococo wished he had at least said goodbye to her before setting off towards the lake. He was so stupid.

His chest spluttered weakly, Rococo spotting what looked like a huge set of teeth before his eyes slid shut. It was almost… Peaceful, floating within its depths, once the frantic hacking of his lungs subsided. They still felt like they were being crushed, but the feeling was far away, distant. Like it was happening to someone else. His mind was blurry with alarm and something else, but Rococo wasn’t too worried. The only thing that really bothered him by that point was the cold. The biting iciness that enveloped him was unwelcoming and cruel, wrapping him in an unwelcome, inescapable embrace. He was going to die. There was nothing he could do.

Sinking slowly down, Rococo finally succumbed to the darkness.

#i'm sorry <3 #ailesswhumptober2023 #ailesswhumptoberday4 #alternative prompt #omori rococo #omori headspace #omori game #omori sweetheart #omori marina #omori molly #omori medusa #omori captain spaceboy #omori humphrey #omori aus