uh... hi

um hi, i'm lucius. I've been writing for myself for quite awhile, and I recently discovered the "whump" community, and that's exactly the kinda stuff I've been writing for a good chunk of my life, but I've never cared to share it cuz i figured it was weird so uh anyway uh here *shoves this blog @ u*

[rain-candles-jazz]

Hi I'm rcj - and here's my pinned post (a work in progress rn) to direct you to my series'. ^-^

Closet Believers Broken people playing around in a broken city where bodies, mostly dead but a few living, just appear.

Mitigating Damages A world starts falling apart. A being awakens that is willing to stabilize it, but at the cost of a single messenger...

One-Offs Storm - a Cyborg Soldier 009 fic exploring 005's integration into the team.

[wlw-whump]

as much as I love badass characters pushing through pain to fight, I also love when they hit a point where they just can't. something structural is wrong or broken, so they can't stand. their muscles are simply too weak and overworked to hold them up. their bloody hands slip off the handles of their weapons, they can't aim through their vertigo or tunneling vision, they shake from blood loss or exhaustion even if not from fear. they've just reached their limit, and no amount of willpower will change that!

[justbreakonme]

Whumpee wants to be good so deeply, wants to get the pats on the head, the praise, the safety that comes with being good.

But here, they couldn’t figure out what good was.

They’d stay awake all night, cleaning in practiced silence, till the entire apartment was immaculate, but all they got was a worried look and encouragement to sleep, to “rest”.

Why? What benefit did their master get from them sleeping or resting? Sleeping was a necessary delay, they knew that well enough, but resting? They’d never had so little to do that there was time to waste resting.

Of course, it wasn’t up to them, even if they didn’t understand, it was their job to obey. So, here they were. “Resting”.

They even thought they were doing that wrong, with how master kept glancing at them out of the corner of their eyes. Sitting criss cross on the floor, perfectly still. Resting.

“Hey honey?”

(Honey must be the name master had picked for them, though it seemed like they weren’t sure if they wanted to call them Honey or Buddy, but that was okay, they figured out to respond to both.)

“Yes?”

(Master didn’t want to be called master, or sir, or anything, so it made all of their sentences sound choppy and clipped, like a mouth with a missing tooth.)

“How about you come sit over here on the couch?”

Their heart sank. They must have done something wrong if Master wanted them within arms reach. Or they were expected to mess something up, and would need to be corrected often.

Carefully, they stood, and sat on the couch, trying to figure out what it was that they’d done wrong. Were they slouching? They sat extra straight, just in case. Had they been making a face? They made sure their expression was exact, placid and pleasant. What else could it be?

“You can slouch you know, it’s just us here.” Their tone was light, almost playful, but he knew better. He’d learned already, he knew how to win this game. He looked towards them, carefully avoiding eye contact, then looked forward again. Acknowledge, but don’t lapse. It was a test, to see if he’d break the rules without being told to. It had caught him thousands of times before, but not anymore.

But when Master only sighed slightly, it didn’t feel like he’d won.

Did they want him to mess up? Were they looking for a reason to punish him? They truly didn’t need a reason, surely, but…

It was good, right, that they would only punish him if he did wrong, even if they wanted to otherwise? But then, how long before they grew frustrated, and the impending punishment would be so much worse.

All of those thoughts happened in seconds, and boiled down to a single question. Should he slouch?

On one hand, he should, it would give them what they wanted and it would be better than waiting for a worse fate down the road. On the other hand,,, Even the idea of being hit or scolded made his chest tighten up painfully.

Selfishly, he stayed still, heart beating in his throat.

He wanted to be good so bad, he hadn’t figured anyone out yet here and it was going on two weeks. And they seemed so much nicer than the others, he hadn’t be punished even the few times he’d slipped, why now?

“Honey…” their voice was so soft, and so was the gentle hand on his shoulder, but he flinched anyway, “you really can relax, it’s okay.”

His mouth was so dry he almost changed his mind, but he figured one way or another, he’d have to do this eventually.

“Do I have permission?”

At least if he got hit for asking, it would give them what they wanted. He braced for the worst but all that came was-

“Huh?”

“Do I have permission to relax?”

“Of course? Yes, yes, you have permission to relax, please do.” There was something in their voice, almost like relief, but he wasn’t sure. It wasn’t that exactly, and that certainly made no sense anyway.

Nothing made sense.

[rain-candles-jazz]

Whumptober 2024 Day 7: only for emergencies

tw: loss of control, body control, blunt force trauma, blood Faleece was excited today - she had a secret weapon. Deego walked quietly behind her, fully engaged in the scenery and a bag of gummy fruit slices that crinkled every so often as he partook.

Across a broken highway, Faleece spotted movement and froze. Itchy was digging through a pile of bodies. Sari and Maddie stood close by with a wagon behind them, already loaded with parts.

Faleece grinned: they were all here… She cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled. "Hey, Itchy!!"

Everyone's attention was instantly on her. Itchy's surprise quickly turned to annoyance. His shoulders slumped as he called back. "What do you want Faleece? I'm a little busy today, I don't have time to play with you." He returned to his rummaging.

Offended at being ignored, Faleece growled back, "I'm not playing with you!! Today is the day I stop you for good with my secret weapon!" Deego tilted his head in curiosity.

Itchy looked back up, clearly bored with her. He rolled his eyes and gestured slightly towards her with his thumb. Maddie and Sari turned and began walking towards her.

Faleece smiled and reached into her back pocket, pulling out cheap hand mirror. She handed it to Deego innocuously and then stepped far back behind him.

Deego, taken aback at Faleece's odd behavior, at first gazed forward to see Sari and Maddie getting ever closer, and now he was alone. He looked down at what Faleece had handed him and froze. The bag of candy fell from his hands.

Sari stopped walking and held a hand out to stop Maddie… something didn't feel right.

Deego was now gripping the mirror hard with both hands as he stared hard into the reflective surface. He thought he recognized the face in it but was disgusted with the weakness and responsibility and sadness and hardship and betrayal and- His thoughts became a whirlwind. He looked up from the mirror and saw two people who would forget him and talk over him and hit him and abandon him.

Sari could see the dark glare from under Deego's black hair. Maddie took a step forward, her attention uncharacteristically focused. She flexed her arms to her sides and the pair of blade sliced through her hands, splattering blood beneath her. Sari unsheathed the old blade from its scabbard. She glanced down at Maddie and promptly charged - maybe if they could get to Deego before he got his bearings-

Deego saw red and smiled. His arms began to ache in that sharp, piercing, familiar way. He raised a hand as the figures rushed towards him. He balled his fingers into a fist and slammed it sideways - just as a red ball of light mirrored his movement, hitting both Sari and Maddie and flinging them to his side.

He turned his head. Sari was already getting to her feet. Deego said nothing but turned and began walking towards her, raising a clawed hand behind him and swiping it downward. Sharp ribbons flew away from him, catching Sair on her head, neck, and shoulders, the force pulling her downward on her knees. Deego stood over her, a wry smile on his face…

A bloody blade hurled towards his face. Deego dodged hastily backward, flailing before landing hard on his rear. An instinct caught another flash, and he pulled his hand up just in time to avoid it being cut off but not soon enough to avoid a slice across his arm.

This new pain sent him into an instant rage. Throwing his fist ahead of him, a jagged wall fended Maddie off, sending her to the ground as well. As she was attempting to regain her wits, Deego slid into a crawling position, his shoulders hunched in anger. He was glaring down at the blood pouring from his new wound and dripping into the dust. His breath sounded like something between a laugh and a sob.

Faleece stared at the scene from behind her cover. She was beginning to feel a little concerned…

Itchy had long ago stopped his rummaging and was staring interestedly at the fight.

Just as Maddie was about to rise, Deego's eyes snapped up to her, his teeth clenched in rage. He yelled, raising his fist to the sky, and slamming it back down into the dirt in front of him. In response, the red wall, jagged edges sharp as needles, slammed downward over top of Maddie. She had barely had time to glance up before being crushed into the dirt.

There was a moment of silence but for Deego's ragged breathing. Maddie lay sideways on the ground, her clothes mussed and torn in places, but simply pierced in others. The attack had hit her like a giant nail-bat, and the small punctures in her skin had begun to bleed around the bruising of the surface that hadn't.

Maddie didn't quite register the pain, but something around her neck had been hit in a way that made her attempts at breathing feel… odd. She made a strange choking noise and pulled herself up on her hands.

Without warning, Deego slammed the wall down on her three more times, blood flying from Maddie's body each time. He let out a small laugh.

Faleece stepped out from her cover. Itchy smiled.

Before he could continue his fun, Deego felt a sudden loss of air in his lungs as a heavy boot kicked under his guts and flung him onto his side. He grabbed at his chest as he attempted to suck in air.

Deego scowled, looking up as blood drained from fresh slashes across Sari's face and neck. Clearly having lost her sword, Sari bent down to grip him hard by the neck. Deego's fingers shot to the hand around him as she squeezed. For her part, Sari seemed a bit less stoic than normal; he could swear he saw a bit of fear in her eyes. This realization, for some reason, pissed him off even more than being attacked and throttled.

Deego began clawing at the arm that held him, deep gashes being cut into it as light shone beneath his fingertips.

Sari held on as long as her grip held, but a deep enough cut caused her hold to fail. She dropped him and stumbled back, gripping her bloody limb.

Deego jumped to his feet and began slamming the light wall into her over and over and over again. At first, she fell back onto the ground, and sounds of increasing pain could be heard from Sari with each hit, but as his smile widened, and each hit connected time after time, all noises and movement stopped. Deego continued to pound the light into the soft, broken body until-

Faleece had dove onto him, making sure to grip his arms to his sides and pin him to the ground.

Deego had yelped in surprise, then began to struggle wildly once the dust settled. Faleece had maintained her grip, however, and was wracking her brain for what to do next. Glancing around, Maddie and Sari were both nearly piles of guts, but Itchy was walking up to the scene with his characteristic calm demeanor.

"Gyaaah Get OFF!!" Deego yelled, kicking his feet and throwing his head around in rage.

"Itchy!!" Faleece hollered over the screaming. "H-HELP!!"

Itchy frowned, casually pulling his shotgun from over his shoulder. He looked at it fondly for a moment, then aimed it at the pair of them, struggling in the dust.

"ITCHY!!" Faleece yelled, impatient and tired of his theatrics.

Itchy cracked a mischievous smile, tossed his gun upward to catch it by the barrel, and swung it like a golf club, straight into the back of Deego's skull.

Instantly, the world went quiet. Deego froze before going completely slack.

Faleece released her hold and stood up, panting. She looked nervously over at Maddie: a puddle of gore, then Sari: a smear of blood, then back to Deego: a mess, but relatively fine… And yet… that had gotten out of control in a hurry… she just thought… that his outbursts were just him letting go, being powerful and useful… not… whatever this was.

Itchy stepped up next to her, gazing down at Deego with her. "Sooo…." he put a hand on his hip. "What was all of that about?" Faleece could hear the smile in his voice.

"It… it was… nothing. Nothing." She ran a hand through her silver hair nervously. "Um… let's just pretend none of this happened, okay?"

"You're a bad actor," Itchy's smile faded.

"Shut up!" Faleece shot a dark look at him before stepping forward to grab the back of Deego's shirt. "I think you have enough clean-up to keep you busy enough without bothering me!" She began to drag Deego off, his head hanging limply on his chest, a thin trail of blood forming in the packed dirt as she walked away.

"You started this!" he shot back, annoyed. But she was right. He turned to the remains of his "soldiers". Well, he supposed it was a good thing he had found that pile of parts when he had…

[rain-candles-jazz]

Whumptober 2024 Day 6: not realizing they're injured (although it's more like Faleece not comprehending how injured Sari is) tw: body horror, blunt force trauma, blood

Faleece woke up with a start and took a good few moments to remember where she was. The bluish sheer walls of Itchy's folly - a wide hole with a spiraling walkway downward into the earth… She remembered a towering beast, human legs, no arms, some kind of rotting skull on top (was it a dog?). She remembered the thing slinging its torso and head around like a battering ram. She remembered being flung hard into the rock wall. The last sight she remembered was Sari, jumping in front of her and slinging a sword out to her side in defense.

Faleece stood up and cast her eyes downward, further into the cavern. She began to walk. She noticed a few craters in the floor and walls with bits of flesh left behind. One of the holes, she had to step around, noting as she did that a small puddle of blood sat at the bottom. A few drops led away and out of the pit, and Faleece soon saw a fairly obvious trail to follow. It wasn't a straight line, and there were faint splatters and larger splotches.

Looking down across the spiral, Faleece noted a large heap secluded by shadows. She followed the blood right to it.

There, sitting next to the beast she had seen, was Sari.

The beast's legs were sliced, bloodless as they all were. In its chest were so many stab wounds that it looked more like a shotgun blast. Thankfully, it was motionless.

Leaning with her back against the creature, Sari too was still. Her head lolled backward, blood still dripping from her head so copiously that Faleece couldn't tell if it was coming from her eyes, nose, mouth, ears, or a new opening in her skull. She knelt down in front of Sari, concerned but not exactly worried - Sari was hard to kill, she knew.

"Hey!" she poked at Sari's head a few times. "Hey, wake up, I got a question for you!"

Sari coughed with a spray of blood shooting upward. Faleece cinched her face in disgust. Without moving her head, Sari opened her eyes and glared down at Faleece.

With a bit of wetness to her voice, she responded softly. "Wh…what do you want?"

Faleece, still crouching next to her, scratched her face absentmindedly. "I just wanted to know something…"

Sari just continued to glare.

"Um… Why exactly do you feel like you need to protect me all the time?"

Sari closed her eyes again. This… this utter child… In spite of the ignorance of such a question, Sari felt her annoyance tempered by her weakness. She felt she could barely lift her arms, and she felt faint.

Faleece tilted her head in anticipation of a response. Sari sighed. "Leave me alone," she mumbled before slipping back into sweet blackness.

After a few seconds, Faleece poked Sari a bit more, then stood up and kicked at one of her legs before stalking back up toward the surface

[rain-candles-jazz]

Whumptober 2024 Day 5: sunburn tw: burns (i mean...yeah) The door slammed open, and Deego stumbled through the door with Faleece's arm draped over one of his shoulders. Relieved to finally be home, his strength gave out.

Faleece fell to the floor and let out a sharp cry as she hit the ground with her hands and knees. She flung one limb after the other out as though the floor were red hot with a flurry of "ow"s and "ah"s before throwing herself onto her back with her limbs spread as far out as she could manage.

Deego put a hand to his mouth as he watched, waiting until she was breathing hard but otherwise silent before emitting a quiet, "Sorry…"

Faleece had her eyes squeezed shut but still managed to scowl at him.

In the darker light of the house, Deego was able to more fully appreciate the extent of Faleece's burns. Her entire face was red, her arms and legs trembled slightly with what was no doubt a constant tingle of pain. If the situation wasn't so serious, Deego would have told Faleece that he had warned her, had offered more protective clothing the day before.

The wasteland that was the destroyed city had been tortured by a heat wave for the past week. Deego had flat out refused to go out in it. If the sun didn't kill him, the smell of bloated corpses no doubt would. Faleece, instead, had insisted that their inaction was a prime moment for Itchy to make progress on his burrowing project. She was determined to go out and would not be confined by clothes that would stick with sweat to her skin and restrict her movement. Deego was so adverse to going out in it, that when Faleece didn't come back that night, he had waited until the next night to go searching for her. Whatever had happened, it had left Faleece unconscious on her back in the sun…

Deego sighed and straightened his posture, closed the door, and retreated to the bathroom. He returned moments later with an old dispenser of aloe burn salve. Faleece didn't seem to notice. He knelt down beside her and put some of the salve on his fingers before hesitating.

Faleece did not like being touched in the best of times… but this was for her own good. Deego clenched his teeth and pressed his fingers to her shoulder.

Faleece's eyes popped open. "AAAHH WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!"

Deego flinched backward, expecting her to lash out at him, but all that came were more loud swears. In spite of her anger, Deego realized that movement was too painful for her. He smiled fondly before gently massaging the bit of salve around on her skin.

Faleece's complaints quickly died down to hisses through teeth as she must have realized the salve actually felt good. Deego knew she wouldn't admit it, but he was glad to be of some use to someone…

[rain-candles-jazz]

sooo.... whumptober has just turned into my inspiration to write about a bunch of plot-ish stuff for Closet Believers... whoops! sorry abt the length if anyone is out there!

[rain-candles-jazz]

Whumptober 2024

Day 4: hallucinations

tw: mind control, drug use, physical violence Sari found herself getting used to being left alone. Ever since they had returned from the Cathedral, Itchy had been busy studying the books and tinctures they had brought back.

They hadn't been very interesting days, but Sari and Maddie hadn't been locked in their individual cells so they could move around a larger area… not that either of them did. Maddie had seemed especially attentive after being fixed up by Itchy after her fall. Instead of her usual catatonia, she had been following Sari with her eyes interested, fiddling with her fingers and blankets, looking at herself in the mirror and changing clothes, and being selective about the food she was eating…

Sari had felt betrayed for a few days. The wound on her shoulder had closed and even though she had long picked out the stitches, she knew it would scar in time. It was too late to do anything now, she was sure. She was forever scarred - marked as imperfect - useless to her masters… She had felt so hopeful that part of the reason for their trip in the first place was to fix her scar.

One day, Itchy opened the big wooden door when it wasn't time for breakfast or dinner. He called for Sari, and she waited for the buzz in her head before standing and heading towards him… like a trained dog. She scowled. She would never get used to obeying a heathen like this, she told herself.

Itchy didn't even have to verbally call Maddie; she followed silently like a ghost.

Itchy began to walk upstairs, the two prisoners following behind. "How are you today, adjunct?" he asked Sari sweetly, turning his head to beam at her.

Sari stared at him suspiciously. She wondered if he was using that word because he'd been reading the healers' books.

"Oh, don't look so put out," he waved a hand dismissively in the air. "I'm sure you'll have some real nostalgia for the stuff I've got to try on you!"

Sari didn't say anything, but felt that fragile flutter of hope once more. Itchy had been studying for days… maybe he had found the medicine that didn't scar; maybe it wasn't too late after all! She subconsciously touched at the still-healing wound - consciously, she knew better than to put too much stock into any positive thoughts when Itchy was involved.

The table was laid into a chair, and he subtly bid her to sit. In uncertainty rather than outright fear or anger, it was as easy as that. He latched the familiar metal around her limbs, humming as he was want to do when he had some new idea or technique in store.

Maddie had wandered past her, settling onto the floor in a huddle by the corner made by the cabinets and the wall.

Itchy turned to the counter across the room, opening a large, old book to a bookmark. "Alright," he mused, flipping back a page before settling on the current one. Sari watched with mild interest as bottles clattered before him. Every couple of seconds he would peer back over the page like a cookbook until he finally raised a bottle to the LED light above them, flipped it over, and pulled a large amount of pink liquid into a syringe.

Sari stared… Normally, she would be expecting some incoming sedation, but Itchy was consulting Cathedral books, and pain, to the Cathedral, was divine punishment, not to be avoided.

Itchy approached her, and she lowered her head, glaring at him from below her stringy midnight hair. Ignoring her as usual, Itchy swabbed her upper arm with a bit of alcohol, flicked a bubble of air from the syringe, and braced a hand on Sari's skin.

"Alright, here we go!" he smiled and jabbed the needle into her, pressed the plunger hard, flicked the quick-release for Sari's restraints, and stepped away, tossing the syringe over his shoulder into a bin.

Sari hadn't even jumped at the injection but had to admit there was indeed something strangely familiar about the sting of the drug. It felt warm and spread rapidly over her nerves like a warm beverage down her throat. She sat up straight, not even noticing her freedom, and stared as the feeling reached her head. It felt… good. Her mind began to swim, and she shook her head a bit, unsure of what exactly was going on around her…

Itchy stared at her, a frown steadily creeping over his face. Sari's eyes had rapidly dilated, and she seemed disoriented. He stepped back once more, looking back over his shoulder at the old book. His mixture was correct, his administration was flawless… He continued scanning, then turned the page and sighed. Graphic design was clearly not the Cathedral's specialty. The last step… He opened a drawer and began rummaging through it, his hand coming to rest on an old stun gun.

Sari had taken to swaying back and forth a bit, her vision dancing with pink mist. She almost smiled as everything physical seemed far below…

Suddenly, a cold metal pierced though her haze, and then her vision went white. Her body pulsed forward, and she fell to the floor.

She heard her own breath… she felt every skin cell of her body… she pulled herself to her hands and knees… she put a hand to her pulsing head… she looked up… she froze.

Sitting before her, seeming to try to hide in the corner of the room, sat a demon. A wicked skull grinned behind fleshy limbs, leaking decay and bits of bone. A singe skeletal wing flapped intermittently, tauntingly. Sari began to breathe heavily. This was an affront - this was an abomination. Her fingers tingled, her eyes twitched around, her nerves felt ready to snap like a coiled spring.

The demon seemed to notice her, its horrible face, its empty eye sockets, its exposed teeth gnashing in her direction. Sari stared at it unblinking. There was nothing between the two of them. She dashed forward, grasping at the thing, gripping it roughly by the neck and slamming it into the wall. The wing beat uselessly as its weak spindly claws pulled at her hand.

Sari squeezed until the struggling stopped and slammed the demon into the floor, watching as the dust cleared. She stared, watching for movement… the vibrant colors of her vision smeared as the thing took a breath. Sari reached down to grab it again and make that stop.

Suddenly, Sari froze in spite of herself. Something had stopped her, and she was powerless to move anything but her eyes. She heard echoing footsteps approach, and she flicked her vision to her side. There stood… a demon? She blinked. A man… a demon… Her paralysis released enough for her to shake her head again. She looked back up and saw Itchy. He was the same vibrant swirl of colors as everything else, but he somehow stood apart from it all. The buzzing in the back of her neck was constant.

"Wow…" His face was a mix of awe and shock. His voice seemed too loud, and it echoed. "What the hell are you seeing right now?"

Sari stared blankly at him. Sweat was beading on her forehead. She was seeing the world as it truly was? Isn't that what she was told this feeling was? The spiritual world was revealed. Instead of relaying any of this, all she could manage to say was, "Huh?"

Itchy gestured downward, toward her nearly-slain foe. "You fucked her up in a hurry! Never seen you move so fast…"

Sari followed his indication, looking down to see Maddie, blood soaking her hair and pouring from a gash in her head. Her eyes were partially open, and she was gasping for small breaths like a fish out of water.

Sari blinked. She had the sudden instinct to reach back down and finish Maddie off, throttle the life out of her, snap her neck in half, bash her skull into shards. The buzzing got stronger. Sari shook her head violently, throwing herself away from Maddie, landing on her butt and backing away, holding her head. Two forces were battling for control of her body and neither were fighting in her favor.

Sari backed up until she was pushing herself against the stone wall. Her breath was coming faster than ever. She frantically glanced from one hand to the other, her mind fighting through the haze of the drug, the sharpness of the electricity…

Feelings turned into concrete thoughts… this was familiar! This was familiar! "I… am an adjunct!," Her voice was frantic, shaky in a way that was scary. "- a-a divine tool to be used - a holy s-s-soldier to be pointed in a direction! If… if if a heathen like you c-can wield m-me in the same way the holiness had… had… had…" She paused, catching her breath. "Had my visions been nothing but this… this drug?"

Itchy watched as Sari had an existential crisis in the corner with a bored expression. If this was how she was going to act while on it, he doubted its usefulness in the future. He sighed. The book was right about the speed and strength the drug induced, but the whole "true sight" seemed to be more hallucinations than sharpened instincts like he had thought.

He looked back down at Maddie, who hadn't moved. He glanced back toward the wall. Sari had taken to holding her head and muttering to herself.

Itchy grabbed one of Maddie's arms and began to drag her over to the chair. Might as well fix her up while waiting for Sari to come back down…

[rain-candles-jazz]

Whumptober 2024 Day 3: set up for failure

tw: stitches, mild mind control, religious connotations, heights The tall hallways of the old Cathedral building managed to be labyrinthine, in spite of their dramatic size.

Itchy walked ahead, gazing lazily at each new stained glass display, each wall covered in scripture pages, each mural of divine symbolism - his scoffs and snide comments echoing across the otherwise silent ceilings. Maddie seemed unusually alert, her gaze seeming to be fixed with purpose at various details they passed. Could it have been awe in her eyes?

Sari was bringing up the rear. Her heart swelled with pride and reverence to be back in a Cathedral, while at the same time, she felt deeply ashamed that a heathen like Itchy had entered at all but that she was his slave… and a flawed one at that. She subconsciously moved her hand to pick at the stitches in her shoulder. A jolt in her neck sent her hand back to her side, complete with a verbal admonishment from Itchy echoing down to her. "Leave those alone, Sari!"

Sariel sighed and shook her head. A path branched off to their right. Sari stopped. What were the chances he'd listen…

"Itchy!" she called.

Itchy was beside her in a second, curiosity tinging his "yeesss?"

Sari pointed down the adjoining hall. "The markings on this corner denote a healing room nearby."

"Ooooh!" Itchy responded, clearly eager to check it out. Sari didn't smile but felt hopeful. If they could get to the healing room, maybe Itchy could find whatever medicine the healers used to erase scars and heal Sari without any permanent marks!

"That sounds very interesting, let's go!" he announced, before beginning to march down the hallway. Sari followed, a bit more of a hurry in her step.

As they walked, the floor had become more and more noisy. Sari even thought she felt it sink a bit beneath her in a few steps. It had been a very long time since this Cathedral had been tended to.

Before long, Itchy halted and put an arm out to make sure Sari stopped too. The floor before them was in active decay - boards had fallen through in patches and even pieces of the wall were hanging by tenuous connections over the floor below.

Itchy peered over the hazard. "Looks fine up there a ways." He sighed. "I suppose that's exactly where we wanna be, huh?"

"Mmm," Sari could only gaze between the rotten floor and the door far beyond… So close and yet so far…

"It might hold?" Itchy wondered aloud. He glanced at Sari with a frown before calling sweetly, "Oh Maddiiiie!"

Obediently, Maddie stepped forward. Of course she had been following them…

Her normally vacant stare seemed much more focused at the moment. She was gazing at the floor in front of them.

"Chop, chop, Maddie!" Itchy indicated forward. "Prove its safe, okay?"

Sari didn't necessarily hold any fondness for Maddie - how could anyone care for such a hollow being? - but that didn't mean she wasn't valuable. Even a sub-par soldier was an asset in an army of two.

"Itchy," Sari ventured tenuously. "You… you're setting her up for failure here-"

Itchy waved a hand dismissively, quieting her concerns. Sari took it as a warning.

"Alright, let's go!" he urged.

Sari stared at Maddie. Something was wrong. Normally Maddie required only the mildest of mental prodding from Itchy. Her consciousness seemed to be so barren that the smallest whim was instantly actionable, as though her body longed for usefulness but had no ideas of its own. Now, however, Maddie wavered, as though perhaps, thoughts of her own were interfering with Itchy's suicidal suggestions.

Itchy's face went from soft and playful to stern and irritated in an instant. Sari heard the jolt and winced in spite of herself. Maddie tensed, closed her eyes, and began walking. The floor groaned with every step. Sari held her breath.

"There, see?" Itchy's laid-back attitude had returned. "It's more stable than it-"

Just then, a subtle rumbling quickly escalated to a cacophonous explosion of old wood breaking and a body falling a few stories.

Itchy froze mid-sentence before glaring down the now gaping hole in what had previously been a floor. Sari looked too.

Maddie lay splayed out on her back on the faded red carpet below. Her eyes were closed, and she wasn't moving. From the floor above, they could see heavy splintered boards on top of her as a few still bounced downward.

Itchy shrugged. "Guess we'll just find another way around." He turned on his heel and trotted off.

Sari turned to follow. Then she heard a small choke and looked back below. Maddie had opened her eyes, but didn't seem to be focusing anywhere. Sari returned to following Itchy. She could've sworn she heard a small voice from down there…

[rain-candles-jazz]

Whumptober 2024

Day 2: trust issues

tw: (mild?) blunt force trauma, mild body horror Faleece tried to stand and couldn't. She growled in frustration as she peered down the dilapidated block she'd been knocked down. Itchy had refurbished an old excavator, soon to use it to get further down into that hole he was so fond of, no doubt. She had thought it easy enough to destroy but had been surprised by the speed at which such a large machine could move… she assumed it had something to do with the muscle tissue and ligaments grafted to the visible connections…

Having been thoroughly annoyed, Itchy had turned his full attention to Faleece, using the excavator claw like a huge metal fist and flinging her through several walls. Now her leg was twisted up, and by the time he was close enough for her to touch with her power, he would have already been able to hit her again.

Faleece gritted her teeth, listening as Itchy yelled tauntingly from his lumbering machine. She wasn't well hidden here - he would find her soon.

Faleece heard the rustle of a falling brick and whipped her head around to see Deego slinking out from around a wall. He glanced between her and Itchy.

Faleece growled at him. "Rrgh, what do you want? You can't help me now, I'm stuck here!" She gestured at her twisted leg.

Deego grimaced and bent down.

Faleece braced herself and guarded her leg with an arm. "Don't," she said warningly.

Deego blinked at her. Sometimes he annoyed her so much.

Then, he gave her kind of a wry smile and held his hand loosely upward toward her. Faleece looked at it and scoffed. "I told you, that won't help!" God, he could be dense.

The sound of the great machine became less muffled as it came into view down the road of rubble. Faleece and Deego turned to look as Itchy met their gaze all the way across the expanse. He smiled and shifted the excavator into gear toward them.

Deego looked back at Faleece again, his face pleading. He didn't retract his hand but opened it wider and nudged it toward her.

Faleece's irritation overrode her aversion to touching him, and she smacked his hand away. "Go on!"

Deego gripped his stricken hand and looked back down the road at the approaching threat. Yet again, he held out his hand and this time, he spoke. "Regen," his face his face was determined, serious. "Me," he added to clarify.

It was Faleece's turn to blink at him. Realization dawned on her, and she did not appreciate the implication.

Again, she slapped his hand away and pushed herself up farther on her hands. "You- you think I'm helpless?" she sneered. "You think I need you to defend me?"

In response, Deego stood up and took a step back, an odd, hurt look on his face.

"You think I'd ever be so desperate to trust you? With my energy?!" Faleece realized just then that she was having to yell even louder to be heard. Itchy was barreling right at them.

Wordlessly, Deego stepped in front of Faleece and lifted his arms slightly away from his body, as though to shield her.

Faleece thought she was angry… she was so sure she was angry… so why did her chest feel tight? Why were tears threatening to form in her eyes.

One last time, Deego turned his head and reached his arm towards her. He smiled sadly. Faleece could only stare at his invitation, clasping her hands together at her tightening chest.

Deego frowned and turned his head back forward - just as a great metal claw grabbed him by the chest and hurled him through the wall Faleece was leaning against.

Itchy leaned out of the cab to grin wickedly at Faleece. "Found you!"

[rain-candles-jazz]

Whumptober 2024

Day 1 - Race Against the Clock

tw: (almost) drowning

Deego felt his pulse quickening as the silence dragged on. He had found Faleece, and that had made him smile, even if she did seem dazed and unstable on her feet. From across the prairie of old shell craters, made into lakes by the freezing rain that had been followed by the still falling snow, he watched helplessly as she swooned sideways and splashed into the frigid filthy water.

His breath curled into fog as he scrambled around the craters toward where he had seen her fall. The snow fell and once he was still again, the world seemed more quiet than ever. He scanned the water, expecting her to break the surface at any moment, cursing and swearing... but the seconds dragged on.

He dropped to his knees and leaned over the water as far as he could, noting the thin layer of ice that was beginning to creep around the edges of the pool. Deego peered into the water, trying to discern exactly where Faleece had ended up. He could see the dirt swirling beneath the surface... maybe...

Glancing at his own gloved hands briefly, Deego held his breath and plunged his arms into the freezing water, groping around the area he had noticed the disturbance. His fingertips were just beginning to go numb as he grazed what he thought was a cluster of fingers. He plunged himself down to his shoulders, and grasped hard onto what he hoped was Faleece.

He pulled hard on the arm he had managed to snag, gripping it hard with both hands and dragging it to the edge of the crater. He leaned back off his knees, digging his heels into the snow and hauling the water-logged body of Faleece out of the water, feeling as though the water was pulling back against him.

Once her chest was draped on the shore, Deego repositioned himself, squatting on the ground and shuffling backward as he dragged Faleece foot by foot out the rest of the way.

Breathing hard now, he scurried to her side and flopped her soaked form over. He wasn't sure if she was breathing. Her hair stuck to her forehead, she looked cold, her eyes were relaxed and closed, she felt cold, her mouth hung open just slightly as though in sleep. She looked cold, she felt cold, she was soaking wet and cold cold cold.

Deego felt his eyes warm up and tears formed. He gazed down at Faleece's unmoving form and suddenly lunged down, grabbing her up in his cold wet arms in a tight embrace, squeezing her and shutting his eyes tight.

He heard an odd gurgle and felt warm water bubble over his shoulder. He dropped her in alarm, and she began coughing breathlessly, her hands clawing the air in front of her. Water flew out of her lungs in bursts, and she gasped, eyes fluttering open though unfocused and foggy. Deego clenched his teeth, his hands hovering helplessly above her.

Finally, Faleece relaxed, her head lolling to the ground. Her breath became somewhat regular, her voice intermingled with the still wet sound, and she began to tremble.

Deego again grabbed her up, leaning her into his chest and wrapping his arms around her, cuddling her as tears streamed down his face.

"Don't leave me, Faleece," he whispered, rocking slightly, trying to warm them both.

A hand shakily rose, and Faleece gripped Deego's arm tightly. Her breathing was still rough and deliberate, and she was still very weak, very wet, and so so cold - but Deego felt her pull herself even closer to him.

[whumptober]

WHUMPTOBER 2024: PROMPTS LIST

Welcome to Whumptober 2024 — Seventh Time's a Charm!

Please make sure to read the Event Info and FAQ below carefully, as most of your questions will be answered there already. For everything else, you are welcome to come to our ask box or ask questions in our Discord server here.

This year’s AO3 Collection can be found here.

This year's playlist can be found here.

And the Anatomy of a Whumptober Prompt post can be found here.

We’re very excited to see the community come together for another year of Whumptober! Go wild with the prompts, and support your fellow creators - we wish you all the fun!

Best of luck and happy whumping,

Mods Vanne, Yenn, Kitty and Surro

(Text versions of the prompts, as well as event information, rules and FAQ are posted below the cut!)

Whumptober 2024 Prompt List

No. 1: RACE AGAINST THE CLOCK

Search Party | Panic Attack | "If only we could hold on.” (Icysami x Renegaderr, Strangers.)

No. 2: TRUST ISSUES

Amusement Park | Role Reversal | “You got away with the crime while the knife's in my back.” (Charlotte Sands, Rollercoaster)

No. 3: SET UP FOR FAILURE

Fingerprints | Wrongfully Arrested | "I warned you."

No. 4: HALLUCINATIONS

Hypnosis | Sensory Deprivation | “You're still alive in my head.” (Billy Lockett, More)

No. 5: SUNBURN

Healing Salve | Heatstroke | "If my pain will stretch that far." (Lottery Winners, Burning House)

No. 6: NOT REALISING THEY'RE INJURED

Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms | Healed Wrong | "It's not my blood."

No. 7: ONLY FOR EMERGENCIES

Unconventional Weapon | Magic with a Cost | "It's us or them."

No. 8: SLEEP DEPRIVATION

Isolation Chamber | Forced to Stay Awake | "Leave the lights on." (Coldplay, Midnight)

No. 9: OBSESSION

Broken Window | Bruises | “Frame me up on the wall, just to keep me out of trouble.” (Fall Out Boy, Irresistible)

No. 10: BLOW TO THE HEAD

Slurred Words | Passing Out from Pain | "I can't think straight."

No. 11: SEEING DOUBLE

Convenience Store | Loneliness | “Leave no trace behind, like you don't even exist.” (Taylor Swift, Illicit Affairs)

No. 12: STARVATION

Underground Caverns | Cannibalism | "Just a little more."

No. 13: TEAM AS A FAMILY

Familial Curse | Multiple Whumpees | "Death will do us part." (Set It Off, Partner's In Crime)

No. 14: LEFT FOR DEAD

Hunting Gear | Blackmail | “Because I want you to know what it feels like to be haunted” (tiLLie, kooL aiD mAn)

No. 15: CHILDHOOD TRAUMA

Painful Hug | Moment of Clarity | "I did good, right?"

No. 16: NECROSIS

Swamp | Wound Cleaning | "No, I can't feel anything."

No. 17: NOWHERE ELSE TO GO

Ruined Map | Shipwrecked | "We had a good run."

No. 18: REVENGE

Unreliable Narrator | Loss of Identity | “I see what's mine and take it.” (Panic! at the Disco, Emperor's New Clothes)

No. 19: BLOOD TRAIL

Abandoned Cabin | One Way Out | "Is there anybody alive out there?" (Bruce Springsteen, Radio Nowhere)

No. 20: EMOTIONAL ANGST

Shoulder to Cry On | Giving Permission to Die | "It's not your fault."

No. 21: BODY HORROR

Body Horror | Tattoo Gun | Spirit Possession | “Let the bedsheet soak up the tears.” (Apparat feat. Soap & Skin, Goodbye)

No. 22: BLEEDING THROUGH BANDAGES

Tourniquet | Reopening Wounds | "Oh that's not good."

No. 23: FORCED CHOICE

Public Display | Broken Pedestal | "I'm doing this for you."

No. 24: RADIATION POISONING

Collapsed Building | Equipment Failure | “I never knew daylight could be so violent.” (Florence + The Machine, No Light, No Light)

No. 25: SURGERY

Stitches | Being Monitored | "It's for your own good."

No. 26: NIGHTMARES

Breakfast Table | Parting Words of Regret | “I'm haunted by the lies that I have loved, the actions I have hated.” (Poe, Haunted)

No. 27: VOICELESS

Laboratory | Muzzled | “I have no mouth and I must scream.”

No. 28: DENIAL

CCTV | Exposure | "They caught me red handed."

No. 29: FATIGUE

Labyrinth | Burnout | "Who said you could rest?"

No. 30: RECOVERY

Hospital Bed | Holding Back Tears | "What have I done?"

No. 31: ASKING FOR HELP

Therapy | Making Amends | "I'm alive, I'm just not well." (Elliot Lee, Alive, Not Well.)

Alternatives List:

Body Swap

Communication Barrier

Finding Old Messages

Forgotten

Friendly Fire

Motion Sickness

No-Holds-Barred Beatdown

Regret

Secrets Revealed

Shivering

Survivor's Guilt

Time Loop

Used As Bait

Venom

Vermin

Event Info & Rules

WHUMPTOBER is a month-long, prompt-based creation challenge (think: Inktober, but whumpier). There are 31 official themes this year - one for each day of the month - which can be used, skipped, or combined in any way you’d like. They are meant to serve as inspiration without being taken literally (e.g. you don’t have to include the exact wording of prompts into your work). Feel free to run rampant on interpretation. For example, if the prompt is “flame", you could create something with reference to a candle/campfire, your character could have suffered a burn, or the flame could be a reference to an ‘old flame’ - an old relationship. It’s truly down to you!

In total, there are 4 prompts for each day. These are optional suggestions and can be used in conjunction with the theme, or as options/alternatives.  We want to give everyone as much creative freedom as possible, as well as increase event accessibility for folks with triggers and squicks. There is also a list of 15 alternative prompts that can be subbed in for any day, again to give participants as much creative freedom as possible.

Creators can PRODUCE work in any media they choose, including but not limited to: writing, visual artwork, photo/video/audio edits, paper crafts and elaborate recommendation lists (not just a list of links). Creators can PARTICIPATE as much or as little as they want (i.e. you don’t have to do ALL the prompts if you don’t want to) and prompts can be used in any order. They are also free to use even after the event ends.

When uploading Whumptober content to your blog, be sure to tag it with:

#whumptober2024 …..(the event tag)

#no.1, #no.2, #no.3, …..(theme number)

#bruises, #stabbing, …..(the theme or specific prompt you chose)

#altprompt …..(if you use an altprompt, tag the post with the number of the prompt you replace)

#fandom or #OC, …..(ironman, original content, oc, etc.)

#medium …..(gifs, fic, podcast, art, etc.)

#teeth, #etc …..(trigger warnings & any additional tags. Keep in mind not to add “tw” in front but only use the word/trigger itself)

#nsfwhump …..(only for nsfw content)

#your own tags go here

PLEASE BE DILIGENT WITH YOUR TAGGING. Only properly tagged posts are considered for archiving on the official @whumptober-archive blog. They must be tagged in the order above. An elaborate post about our tagging system can be found [here]

Unfortunately, due to the sheer number of participants in recent years, we cannot guarantee your work will be archived. A random selection of properly tagged posts from all genres will be reblogged each day.

Whumpers who produce content for 31 total theme days are considered event completionists and will be tagged in a masterpost at the end of the month. A form will be published at the beginning of November asking you to tell us if you completed. This is based on trust and we will not check this.

Frequently Asked Questions

Please read this before you send an ask!

TIMELINE

July: Trope voting form released. Late August: Prompt list is released for at least four weeks of preparation time. Tropes cannot be posted earlier than August 25th because of Moderator obligations in real life. (But, you know, go ahead and start writing/drawing, and add the themes in later, if you want!) September: Do as much or as little on your works as you want. You can prepare everything in advance or let September go by with vibes and start working in October. It’s up to you. October 1st: Challenge begins! A storm of whump breaks upon us all! During this time, some posts will be reblogged to the whumptober archive blog. We open the yearly AO3 collection for posting (optional). November 1st: The challenge is officially over! Completionist form opens for those who want to be included in the hall-of-fame. Early November: We release completionist and participant badges, solicit feedback, and post a hall-of-fame list of completionists by the 10th.

PARTICIPATION AND COMPLETION

Q: What counts as participation? Create or continue at least one work inspired by one of this year’s prompts. Q: What counts as completion? Creating work(s) inspired by at least one prompt from each day (or alts), for a total of 31 unique prompts. Q: Do I need to create 31 works? No. You can, if you want. Or you can create one work that you add to every day with a new prompt. Or several works that combine prompts. You can also update an existing work by adding new material with the current prompts. Q: Do I need to post my works somewhere to be a completionist or a participant? No. Q: How do you know I actually completed the challenge? We’ll take your word for it! Q: Do I have to finish my work(s) to be a completionist? No, you can post WIPs. And you’re not obligated to finish them in October, but if you want it to count towards being a completionist, you must have completed 31 prompts by the end of the month. So for example, if you’re writing a long fic and you fit 31 different prompts into the writing you did in October, it’s okay if that fic isn’t finished by the time October ends, you’ll still be a completionist. Q: Is co-writing/illustrating allowed? Yes, absolutely, and it would count towards being a completionist for both/all of you. Q: Is there a min/max limit on word count for written works? No. Q: Is there a min/max limit of quality for art? No. Q: Do I have to do something each day to be a completionist? No. You can skip days whenever you want, and as long as 31 daily prompts (or alts) are in your works done in October, you can be a completionist. For example, if you wrote a 1000-word ficlet that covers prompts in days 2, 3, and 17, you can check all three days off your list even though it’s only one work. Q: Is this challenge just for fics? No! Artworks, GIFsets, headcannons, rec lists, poetry, moodboards, or any other creative work is encouraged. Q: Can I combine Whumptober with other creation challenges? Absolutely, as long as the other challenges allow it too.

PROMPTS

Q: How do the prompts work? There are FOUR prompts per day: a theme and three ideas. You can use one, two, three, or all four prompts for each day. If you don’t like any of the daily prompts, you can substitute one of the ALT prompts instead. Q: How strictly/literally should we interpret the prompts? As literally or as figuratively as you want. For example, if the theme is WATER, that could mean drowning, waterboarding, raining, swimming, take place underwater, be lost at sea, construct a metaphor about a character’s mood that changes like a flowing river, crying, or whatever else you can think of that fits that theme. Q: Can I combine prompts? Is there a limit on how many? No limit and combine as many as you’d like. If you create a work that checks off multiple prompts, that work will count for a fill of multiple prompts. You need to address 31 different prompts to be an official completionist, but you don’t have to produce 31 separate works.

WORKS

Q: What’s whump? Hurting a character, whether that’s physically, emotionally, intellectually, psychologically, or any other way you can think of. Comfort afterwards is optional. Angst is emotional whump, so it counts. Q: How do I know if it’s whumpy enough? If your character is just mildly inconvenienced, it probably needs more whump. However, no participant has to prove whumpiness to the mods. Whatever you write is up to you. Q: What kind of characters can I create for? Anything. Generic “whumpee,” OC, PC, NPC, major characters, minor characters, or whatever you want. There are no limits. Q: Does it have to take place in a specific fandom? No, you can create works for your own worlds or for fandoms or for both. You can also create more generic or pan-fandom works. You can do cross-overs or use OCs, whatever you want. Q: Can I create AI-created works? We will not reblog or promote any works we know to be generative AI-created. Q: Is there anything we’re not allowed to write? As long as it contains whump and is based on our prompts, it’s fine. Please courtesy tag your works if you post them so people who follow the #whumptober2024 tag can filter according to their preferences. Q: What about sex, minor characters, and potentially disturbing content? You can create whatever works are legal in your country and post them accordingly. Please courtesy tag anything you think might be objectionable if you post to Tumblr so people who follow the #whumptober2024 tag can filter according to their preferences.

POSTING

Q: Where can I post my work? Post where and how you want. You don’t even have to (cross)post it to Tumblr. Just keep in mind if it’s not on Tumblr we will not be able to add it to the blog archive. There is an AO3 archive for Whumptober 2024, as well as the parent collection for works completed outside of the event. Q: Can I start posting early? You can, but this is an October event and wouldn’t it be more fun with everyone doing it at the same time? We won’t be reblogging any work predating October 1st. Q: Can I post late? Yes. For the sake of our hardworking Post Fairies, only a day’s themes will be reblogged to @whumptober-archive each day of October. But you can post whenever. Some of us are still working on and posting Whumptober fics from years ago. Q: Do I have to use your tags? Only on Tumblr and only if you want us to reblog your work on @whumptober-archive. Q: How do I have my works reblogged to the archive? Properly tagged posts will be reblogged to @whumptober-archive. If you want the official archive blog to reblog you, post on Tumblr and tag correctly (see this FAQ link for more info on tagging). Please note not all posts will be reblogged each day. Q: Can we @ you? For questions and comments, of course. We’ll be getting a flood of notifications, so if you really want us to see something send an ask. Q: Can I cross post on other blogs? Yes, multiple platforms and blogs are perfectly acceptable, as long as they allow cross-posting (to us). You can also post different works to different accounts under different names, without posting them everywhere at once. If you post some works under your main and others under an alt blog, that’s fine for completionist purposes. Q: Can I upload/repost my Whumptober content to other social media platforms? Of course! We’ve created an AO3 Collection to archive any fics posted there, which can be found here. The blog is the official archive, so please respect the personal boundaries of any whumpers in your social circle (don’t out anyone as a participant who would prefer not to be outed).

Most importantly, have fun, create, and enjoy all the whump posted this October!

[rain-candles-jazz]

Whumptober 2023 Day 6

"It should have been me."

tw: unconsciousness, referring to people as objects, wounds

Itchy looked over the newly formed wasteland, still smoldering as he watched Faleece saunter off in the distance. He crossed his arms as he stepped closer to the center of the biggest crater, Maddie following behind.

Upon reaching the edge, Itchy leered over it. At the bottom lay Sariel, covered in dirt and soot, blood clotted in her dark hair and oozing freshly from her mouth. Her splayed position allowed him to notice the friction abrasions and burns covering her arms and seeping through her now ragged clothes.

Itchy jumped down and slid next to her body in a cloud of black dust. He squatted and put a hand to her neck just below her skull. Alive… Itchy smiled wryly. He stood up and attempted to order her to stand. A verbal command was always a stronger prod. “Get up loser,” he said almost dismissively. Nothing.

He sighed, ordering Maddie down into the crater. “Carry this back home, will you?” he pointed at the body.

Maddie marched forward to comply, lifting up one of Sari’s huge arms and struggling to pull it forward. Itchy watched with increasing annoyance as she attempted various ways to move the body - rotating via pulling a leg, draping an arm over her shoulder, pulling both arms… not an inch of distance was gained.

In defeat, Maddie sat down, panting, her gaze unfocused. Itchy sat down as well, figuring he had no choice but to wait for Sari to regain some semblance of consciousness. “It should have been you,” he said to Maddie as though it was easy conversation. “Much easier to haul…”

[rain-candles-jazz]

Whumptober 2023 Day 5

"It's broken."

tw: referring to humans as objects, medical pain

The base commander leaned down to stare through the one-way mirror, down into a testing room painted walls to floor in a grid. On this floor grid, a human-shaped form lay, coated in a dark blue uniform.

The air condition in the observation room was all that could be heard. Dr. Gilmore felt himself growing more and more nervous the longer the commander said nothing.

He had been part of the 00 project for long enough to know that few things went perfectly when combining biology and synthetics, but he had come to expect a certain level of understanding about this from those above him. This latest project was testing that level, and Gilmore had spent many a night wondering what level of responsibility he felt for it.

The subject code-named 004 had been a rough case from the start. The project’s need for secrecy meant that no one had their first choice of test subjects, but this one had arrived terribly wounded, nearly dead. At the time, Gilmore saw it as a wonderful opportunity to help this man, to give his battered body back a functionality it might never have again with traditional medicine. He had imagined the scientific strides they’d make in nerve, limb, wound recovery, contributing to the medical sciences, the biotechnology possible to help victims of trauma and disease…

Unfortunately, his heady ideas at the time had failed to consider two things: 004’s mental and emotional state, and the Black Ghost organizations disinterest in anything other than weapon development.

These two factors had contributed to Gilmore and the other scientists compromising on what was added to 004’s design… everything added or fixed required a way for the modification to be deadly. The more these compromises were made, the more frequent Gilmore’s nightmares had become.

He was never under any illusion that Black Ghost was a philanthropic institution, but he had always hoped that his involvement with the organization would be able to steer it in a better direction. More disabling rather than deadly weapons; more shields, walls, armor for those in harms way; transportation technology; surveillance - these were the things he had tried to put more effort into. The 00 program, he had told himself, was meant as a deterrent - a way to ward off wars. No one wanted to fight a battle when the other side was manned by robot soldiers, right?

004 had forced him to come to terms with all of this. 004 was built back to be a weapon and nothing but. 002 and 003 had recon and surveillance capabilities: they were supplied with guns, sure, but 004 *was* a gun. Blades and machine guns and missile launchers had been built into him. Gilmore could not justify any of it.

These modifications had long been decided and implemented. 004 was still healing from the multiple surgeries these “remodels” had necessitated. He had been given a thorough physical just this morning and been cleared for a basic test of his progress.

And yet… there he lay, prone on the gridded floor, blank eyes staring straight ahead.

Finally, the commander straightened back up without breaking his gaze from the room beyond. “Hmph…. It’s broken!”

Gilmore stepped up next to him and glanced between him and 004. “Um… if I may, sir: He’s a human, not a robot. No one is ‘broken’-“

The commander leered over him and sneered. “IT,” he emphasized, “is a cyborg, and right now, its not working.”

Gilmore stammered, “He-It-it *can* work, sir, it-it just… he doesn’t *want* to-“

“Gilmore, what are you talking about?” The commander was obviously annoyed and not terribly interested in listening to some bookish scientist preaching about ethics or guns with feelings. “I had to clear my morning schedule to come and check up on your little pet project, and all you have to show for the astronomical R&D budget is-“ he flailed an incredulous hand at the seemingly lifeless cyborg in the next room. “That!”

Gilmore lowered his head as the commander turned to go. “I just don’t know how much longer we can indulge these expenditures, Gilmore.”

After he marched out of the room, Dr. Gilmore turned back to look at 004 for awhile before typing the code that allowed him in the room. He strode over, noting that at no point did 004 even acknowledge his presence. *He looks like he just got run down by a truck*, Gilmore noted about his pathetic position on the floor.

Staring down, Gilmore felt more than a little frustrated: though he didn’t like the direction of the project thus far, he knew 004 still had potential, and his performance today wasn’t going to help anything.

“004, you could have at least tried to hit a single target. This behavior isn’t going to get you any more help you know.”

004 was silent for a minute. Nothing changed about his demeanor when he responded, voice quiet and hoarse. “Everything hurts…”

“You had a full physical this morning,” Gilmore sighed. “Your chart mentioned nothing about pain.”

“They didn’t ask,” 004 replied.

The Doctor grimaced and bent down, reaching for 004’s metallic hand, lying softly beside him, intending to inspect the limb for malfunction.

He only had time to mumble a quick, “No-“ before the slightest touch from Gilmore made 004 breathe in sharply and yell.

Gilmore fell back in surprise and felt all of his annoyance float away. 004 was breathing heavily, now tense on the floor and seeming to struggle to wait for his nerves to calm down. Gilmore shook his head, concerned. “I-I’m sorry 004,” he spoke softly as 004’s breathing regained some regularity. “No one told me” He made a mental note to make sure he was alerted to any further discomfort from the cyborgs. “I’ll get some analgesia,” he stood quickly and turned to head to his lab.

Before he got too far, however, he heard the door on the other side of the room shift open. A pair of heavily armed guards entered and headed straight for 004.

“No wait!” Gilmore moved to stop them. “He’s having a reaction, he’s very painful-“

Before he got any further, 004 was roughly grabbed up by his arms. Gilmore cringed as he yelled, being dragged roughly back to his holding cell, not fighting at all in a vain attempt to remain as still as possible.

“Stop!” the Doctor yelled, still trying to catch back up to the guards.

He heard a truly heartbreaking sob from the cyborg, just as the door closed. Gilmore was left standing alone in the gridded room, feeling suddenly drained…

[rain-candles-jazz]

Whumptober 2023 Day 4

“You in there?”

tw: manipulation, fainting

Deego had followed Maddie and Sari, not because he’d been ordered to, but because he didn’t want to be left alone. Itchy must have anticipated this, because his face displayed no surprise.

Maddie turned to face Itchy, her arms swaying lazily. Sari stopped just short of her, and her movement was precise and sharp. Again, Deego followed them, because he didn’t want to be left out.

Itchy stood before the three of them, arms crossed, smiling in his easy confident way. “Heads up!” he spoke jovially.

Everyone craned their neck upward, Deego a little behind the other two.

Itchy raised an eyebrow, now suspicious.

Deego kept a side-eye on Sari and Maddie, careful to keep doing as they did. It was kinda nice, honestly, just to be given clear orders and then follow them.

“Heads down,” Itchy ordered, a little less enthusiastically.

Maddie crouched like a goblin, elbows and knees splayed outward in an attempt to get her chest and head as low to the ground as possible. Sari bent down at her knees and faced a shoulder forward as a shield. After seeing this, Deego ducked downward, holding his knees in an attempt to make himself smaller.

Itchy narrowed his eyes. “Fight,” he seemed to dare.

This order was not so easy to follow. Fighting only made things worse, struggling against the inevitable would only tire him out, swimming upstream was a waste of time, he wasn’t worth wasting any time over-

==

A spark flew from Deego’s spine and he crumpled to the floor. Itchy blinked. Maddie and Sari looked over at the heap on the ground.

Sari looked back to Itchy. “I don’t think this is going to work-“ her insolence silenced, painfully as usual, by a mere mental admonition from Itchy.

He stepped toward Deego, hands on his hips in irritation. “I knew something wasn’t right.”

He bent down and poked at Deego’s skull. “Helloooo? You in there?” He flicked Deego’s head back and pinched an eyelid open. Deego’s consciousness had fizzled out. “Damn it was the same kind of chip, I thought? The test was going pretty well until that, though right?”

Sari scoffed as her and Maddie witnessed his thought process. “He’s not a soldier, Itchy.” She hadn’t been silenced.

Itchy looked back at her. “Neither is Maddie!”

Sari and Maddie glanced at one another, before returning their gazes to Itchy. “Yeah, but they’re nothing alike.”

“It shouldn’t matter!” Itchy stood angrily, facing Sari.

Though she knew another shock was incoming, she had to say what they were all thinking. “You have to face it that you just might not be able to control everyone.” She managed to get the whole sentence out before Itchy narrowed his eyes, gazing into hers forcefully.

Sari cringed as a shock spread from her neck throughout her whole body, and she, too, fell to the ground, wracked by pain.

Itchy growled and stomped out of the room. “I can, and I will!”

[rain-candles-jazz]

Whumptober 2023 Day 3

"Make it stop."

tw: toxic memories, blood

Maddie dropped the pen she’d been given and stared hard at the word she’d just written. “maddie” That was her… label. She raised an eyebrow and put a thoughtful finger to her lips. Her mind swirled, and suddenly, the word was removed from her sight.

She looked up to see Itchy, blonde and smiling wide, holding the paper up to light. “Maddie?” He looked back down at her. “That’s your name?”

Maddie stared back at him blankly. Probably? She looked back down at the table where her name had just been.

*Maddie… Maddie?* She was in a parking lot… again? In front of her was a trail of blood. She blinked, following it through the parking lot lights until she was looking down at a body gripped in her own hands.

“NONONO MAKE IT STOP,” a voice said without saying, and Maddie was back in front of this dingy table, watching as this blonde weirdo turned to smile at her. “Well, Maddie,” his voice was bubbly but an edge was ill-hidden. “Let’s go for a walk, okay?”

[rain-candles-jazz]

Whumptober Day 2

"They don't care about you."

tw: discussion of toxic relationships, scars

Sari marched back into her room… her quarters… no matter what Itchy called it, it was a prison all the same. He slammed the gate closed behind her. With a silence most unlike him, Itchy stomped back the way they had come. Sari was no longer needed. Itchy’s characteristic good humor had been dulled by Faleece’s seriousness, and he was in no further mood to chat.

Once he disappeared up the stone stairs, Sari felt herself relax a bit, and while she wouldn’t say she felt safe, she felt a little more in control of herself. Her shoulders slumped, and as she trudged towards her worn-out cot, she heard a small breathy sound.

Turning quickly, she only saw Deego, once again in the cell across the hall from hers. She rolled her eyes and returned back to her cot. She hadn’t been there when it happened, but she had heard Faleece arriving at Itchy’s compound, yelling at him about fairness and other such fantasies. Itchy had laughed until Faleece had pinned him to a wall and put a finger to his neck. Sari had very much enjoyed that bit.

After some more words spoken softly and harshly, both of their faces more serious than Sari had ever seen them, Itchy had bid her to travel outside the doors and locate Deego. Sari had found him easily enough, laying sprawled out on a bed cover, obviously having been dragged a good ways. A large gash had been dug through a shoulder, across his neck, and into his chest. Old and fresh blood mixed into the remains of his clothes and further dirtied the filth of the fabric he’d been transfers on. Unfazed by any of this, Sari had dutifully squished through the blood puddles and hefted Deego up into a bridal carry. Her brain tinged at her to be gentle, although it occurred to her that she wouldn’t have to try hard to harm him when he was in the best of health.

That was then, and now Deego lay on a cleaner comforter on the floor under a thin blanket. Sari sat on her cot and observed him briefly. Where there once was a gory mess, there was now a stitched up incision - purple knots strung up the length of his torso… or at least as far as she could see above the blanket.

Seeing the sutures poking up into the air reminded Sari of her own blemishes, and she looked down and touched at the slick divots in her arms and neck… The thought of them immediately ticked her off, and she looked back up, only to see Deego’s teal eyes glistening lazily back at her.

Sari narrowed her eyes in response. Deego always had a way of pissing her off… and she didn’t like to think about why. The two of them had met this way a few times before; Itchy’s holding patterns weren’t exactly creative. She couldn’t reach him though these bars, but her voice carried well enough. All she could think to say was the worst possible venom she could muster.

“You know she doesn’t care about you.” She was referencing Faleece, and she knew he knew. The Apotheosis was above them both, she knew all, she had to… but Sari was under no illusions that Faleece cared about anyone underneath her, and why should she?

Deego was soft and yet powerful… Faleece was using him, and Sari hoped that if this wasn’t new information for Deego, which it very well might have been, that perhaps being reminded would hurt him.

Deego’s response was subtle. His gaze seemed to unfocus from Sari, and she no longer felt herself under his stare. She growled under her breath and flopped down on her cot.

“You must think I’m an idiot.”

Sari sat back up and whipped her head around, unable to hide her surprise. She couldn’t remember if she’d ever heard a full sentence from Deego. She processed what he’d said and scoffed. “I mean, yeah. You think you’re special.”

His reply was hoarse and soft, but his focus had returned to her, more stern than she expected from someone so pathetic. “You do too though, don’t you?”

“I am!” Sari roared back. She had been born and bred for service, trained and trained, hammered and abused like the strongest steel. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.” She sneered down at him, down at this worm that lay beaten by his wound.

Deego lay silent and still for a few moments. “Why do you think we need to feel useful to someone else?”

Sari turned from him. “We’re nothing alike.”

Deego sighed, seeming to relax. He closed his eyes. “We both keep coming back…”

Sari snorted and returned to her cot. They spoke no more that night. Deego’s words swirled around in Sari’s dreams.