DAY 04: immortality • sailing • "I've prayed every day for this."
Fandom: original work
Content Warning(s): dubconnish?
#12DaysofWhumpas2025
"They're to keep you from hurting yourself." Irina murmurs, bending down to stroke Kitty's hair. The lantern light flickers and sways with the rocking of the ship, one moment her hair is golden, the next it is darker than midnight. The sweat on her brow remains the same. "Once you break free...well, then we know you're ready."
She absentmindedly checks her pocket watch and taps the glass with her fingernail. Twenty hours. It's nothing compared to a lifetime.
"I have prayed every day for this moment." Kitty writhes on the floor, struggling at the rope binding her wrists and ankles. Irina isn't sure whether she's doing it on purpose or not. She's not even sure she's lucid. A guttural groan erupts and a family of mice skitter into the unlit area of the ship's hold. "I know, my love, I know."
If her heart could thud, it would. The pain is worth it. It will be worth it. Whether Kitty will be convinced is another matter but that will come later. They have all the time in the world.
Irina feels herself drawn closer and she sits on the floor, scooping her love into her lap so she can hold her to her breast. The moans reverberate through her chest. It's delicious. She cups Kitty's face and kisses her, a greedy tongue finds blood and traces over fresh fangs.
DAY 03: in the elements • bells • "This will be worth it in the end."
Fandom: original work - sweden series.
Content Warning(s): murder, fire, cremation
Soundtrack: Underwater by Tsar B
#12DaysofWhumpas2025
The northern winter brought the day to an end well before seven o'clock but the cover of darkness wasn't enough. Manda needed silence, empty roads and citizens tucked in their beds.
She stuffed down her hesitation and took the body by the feet, pulling it from the backseat and letting his head hit the ground with a wet thwack. The cold bit through her parka, deeper until it hit bone. Her nose stung, her hands grew numb and they fumbled about. That man didn't feel a thing. Not then, not now.
He laid wrapped in sheets, mummy-like and waiting for the next humiliation. Unscrewing the cap, she poured gasoline over every inch and watched it soak in. She emptied the container as the fire gained life.
Manda folded him into a fetal position, one last indignity, looking like a child wailing on the ground for its' mother, and let the fire spill over him.
“She’s getting to you, isn’t she?”
“What?” Sibylla glances over at him. Years into their friendship and he’s still as hard to read as the day they met. His feelings stay stuffed under the floorboards, only making an appearance in the form of giddiness or rage.
“The Deputy. You’ve been a total crankpot since she showed up in the valley.” Resting her elbow against the chair arm, she presses her knuckles below her bottom lip.
“Such an astute observation.”
“Mhhhh, Nancy, Nancy, Nancy.” She sighs and briefly returns her gaze to the forest stretching out for miles. Dirt roads weave in between them but the treetops blend together and hide the imperfections. It’s a home she never knew she needed. “I think she’s a true believer… It’s not because you’re cute.”
“It’s because I remind her of her son.”
“You remind every old woman of her son.”
“I feel that is a backhanded compliment.”
“It’s a compliment I wouldn’t give either of your brothers.” Sibylla pauses and waits for a reply. Even though she’s irritated, she can’t help smiling at him. He’s contagious like that. “You’re supposed to say ‘thank you’.”
“Thank you.” The spell breaks when John’s left hand touches her knee. She quickly stands and he pulls back like she’s a hot stove. Every time she thinks she’s broken the habit, it claws its’ way back into him as if it had never left. He tries so hard… Doesn’t he?
DAY 07: present • pneumonia • "There's not much more we can do."
Fandom: Orphan Black
Summary: Cosima's lungs are getting worse and she gets a surprise visit from Evie in the hospital.
Content Warning(s): hospitalization, mentions of blood and bodily fluids
Cosima couldn’t help staring at her phone. Her lifeline. Not much of a consolation considering how easy it’d be for one of the nurses to knock her out in two seconds flat. How many people knew she was here? Would more people knowing be beneficial? Or would it seal the deal, that she’d be found and wheeled out to the Neolution morgue? She pinched the bridge of her nose and reached for her phone. She slipped it beneath her pillow, it made little difference in the grand scheme of things but eased her mind, if only for a moment.
The first cough seized her chest and she doubled over, gasping for breath between each successive cough. Sharp pains echoed through her chest, the right side bore the brunt of the pain. By the end of this fit, she grabbed a nearby napkin and used it to catch the phlegm coming up. She groaned. The colors hadn’t changed, it had been yellow-green and streaked with blood for a few days now. The blood wouldn’t change.
The door to her room slid closed. She didn’t look up, no reason to look another nurse in the eye and get a pitiful look in return.
“How long have you been admitted?” The clicking heels continued toward her bed, she kept her head down.
“Three days.” Evie pulled up a nearby chair and sat down too close for comfort. “Why are you here?”
“I’m here to extend a lifeline.” Another cough, another glob of blood. Evie held out Cosima’s half-empty plastic cup. It was tempting to fling it back in her face. She took it without reaction, without a noise or the barest of 'thank you's.
“Stop pretending like you care.” Evie pursed her lips. The fluorescent light brought out the small ‘x’ shaped scar on her cheek. Her looks didn’t match her personality, she was blessed with high cheekbones, glossy hair, and a moral compass like a dumpster fire.
“You have a limited amount of time to accept my help before someone else makes the decision for you.”
“Is that a threat?”
“Threat, promise, only option.” Cosima’s bottled up cough came out and she leaned to the side, enough so that Evie’s hand, which rest on the edge of the bed, was caught in the downfall. Spit, sputum, and streaks of blood splattered her fingers and back of her palm. Her lips screwed up again. Not another muscle in her face moved. She shot out of her chair, grabbed a handful of tissues and scraped them across her tan skin, again and again.
“Sorry ‘bout that. Sometimes it pops out.”
“You know, when I first heard of you, I thought you might be the one I could talk sense to. Scientist to scientist. You would understand what we’re trying to achieve.” She threw the tissues down on the bed. “But you’re like the rest of them. Each one a piece of work.”
“I understand it, I don’t condone it. There’s a difference, Evie.”
“Don’t be stupid.”
“Don’t get sick.” Fury flashed through Evie’s brown eyes and with one last glare, she stormed out the door.
DAY 05: snowed in • delirious • "You can feel it, can't you?"
Fandom: Original Work - fantasy.
Summary: Stina awakes in the middle of the night to find her dead husband, Truls, by her side.
Content Warning(s): mentions of child death and death of a spouse
"You mourn me? Even now?” Truls sat on the edge of the bed, looking the same as the day he disappeared, with the exception of his eyes, they’d turned a brilliant blue, a color Stina had never seen before. Not in the ocean waves nor the frost of other kingdoms and domains.
“I mourn you as I mourn our son, every day and night and every time I try to forget, it hurts even more.” She let out a bitter laugh and then used the sleeve of her nightgown to dry her eyes. “Agneta says the pain will disappear, in time but she— she has never lost a husband. She has never lost a son! What could she possibly know?”
“Precious little, I should think.” She pressed a hand against her breast as to quiet her heart for fear it would burst out of her chest. The moonlight creeping through the windows and slits in the castle wall barely reached her bedside. All she could make out were his eyes and the smile she had committed to memory.
“And yet you are here now.” A chill ran up her spine. Truls’s arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer, and she pressed her face against his shoulder. He felt like a block of ice.
“You can feel it, can’t you? That something has changed— that I have changed.” She said nothing, did nothing. “I must tell you the truth. I remember nothing of that day. I barely remember one day to the next.” It was his turn for bitter laughter and she lifted her head, frowning up at him.
“I-I understand. Grief is a beastly thing.”
“It is something else. Something I do not yet have the words for.” She followed his gaze, he stared at the window, she could have sworn one of the attendants drew the curtains earlier in the night. They were wide open. Was the window cracked? “Something is consuming me. Something from the sea.”
A light knocking at the door sent her shooting upright. One hand grabbed hold of his linen shirt, keeping him close, the other flew to her chest as she glanced around the room. Nothing else was out of place, there were no secrets to hide other than Truls.
“I’ve brought you some cocoa and something to help you sleep.”
“You wretched girl, you summoned her—“
“I did not, I swear it. Please, you must believe me.” Stina untangled herself from the sheets and jumped off the bed. “I must answer her. Stay there.”
“I’m sorry—,” she cracked the door and Agneta raised her head. The lantern on the tray bathed her in warmth, she smiled then cleared her throat. “As I was saying, I am sorry for our argument earlier. It was cruel of me to bring up the subject of marriage when—“
“I forgive you.”
“So quickly?” Stina nodded. “Well, I have always said you are the best of the three… I’ve brought you cocoa and a sleeping draft, if you need it.”
“The cocoa would be lovely.”
“May I come in?” She couldn’t say ‘no’ to Agneta. Another nod and she opened the door wider, allowing the former governess in. “It is quite cold in here. Did you leave a window open?”
“No.” The lantern flickered and shifted, casting strange patterns along the furniture and stone walls. The place Truls occupied on the bed was empty. The window had been shut. Her hand shot up to her throat and she ran her fingers along her neck and collarbone. As Agneta placed the tray on the nearby table, Stina fluttered over to the bed where he’d been sitting. She ran both hands along the edge, finding the dip where he had sat. Among the sheets was a piece of half-dried seaweed.
“Darling, is something wrong?”
“He was here. I could have sworn— he was here, Agneta. Please, you must believe me. He was as solid as you or I!” Tears began running down her cheeks and she turned, flinging the casement open. The night air was still, the only noise to be heard was the quiet breaking of the waves along the shoreline and the creaking of boats tied to the castle’s dock. No one, not a person nor animal, could be seen.
“Close the window, you’ve given yourself quite a chill already.” Agneta wrestled for the window lever, she pulled it shut and locked it before putting both hands on Stina’s shoulders. “Dreams do feel real from time to time. Your brother had many nightmares when he was small. Always about beasts and getting lost in far off lands.”
“No, no, he left this.” She smoothed the sheets out and produced the piece of seaweed.
“That is why you don’t sit on your bed in your riding outfits or cloaks. Sand and seaweed get everywhere.”
“Please, please, Agneta, you must listen to me. Truls, he was here, he sat next to me and held me as you are now. He told me how he missed me an-and—“ Stina dissolved into wracking sobs as she was forced into a hug, Agneta’s arms wrapped around her and held her close, patting her back and murmuring soothing words.
“To loose two people so close together…no one expects you to be strong all the time.”
“Truls was here.” She shrieked, slapping Agneta’s chest in an attempt to burst out from her grasp. “He was here, I’m telling you! He was here!”
