#muffled screams

[2many-art]

Solo 🐉

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[the-english-bounder]

She really wanted to play the pretty little bondage slave. She even went and bought a very cute collar.

I certainly approved, but she had to know I would add a few things to seal the deal. She would also find out that I’m keen on colour coordinating.

[penitent-stranger]

Whumpuary Jan 15-16 - Muffled Screams / Hostage / "You look awful" / BONUS 2: "Let me see"

(cw: urban warfare setting, no-anesthesia surgery, descriptions of pain, the briefest discussion of concussions)

It took longer than it should’ve for Jaye’s eyes to adjust to the dark. One of her arms looped around her teammate's shoulders, and Red dragged her over the threshold of the abandoned building, shards of broken glass crunching under their feet. Their difference in heights made Jaye’s side stretch as she hung off of him, and it pulled at her wounds. Between the pain, the disorientation from the blast, and the complete lack of light in the building, she found herself straining to see even the ground in front of her.

Or maybe she’d lost more blood than she’d thought.

She groaned weakly as a wave of vertigo hit her. The floor shifted beneath her feet, and Red’s grip on her waist tightened as she stumbled into him. He hauled her upright again. 

“Hang on, Bluebird,” he said. “Just a few more steps.”

The strain against her ribs made her forget how to breathe. Thankfully, Red took over as her knees decided they didn’t need to function anymore. He handled her like she didn’t weigh anything at all - certainly no more than the fuckoff huge sniper rifle he carried on his back - and dragged her through piles of rubble and into a room further back in the building.

He maneuvered her over to a couch relatively free of debris and set her down. She collapsed against the worn furniture, and the impact jammed all the way up her spine. She bit back a yelp and focused on taking calm, even breaths. The walls muffled the sporadic pop of gunfire from outside, but they still had to be quiet, even in this relative safety. 

Red set his rifle down against the wall and drew his pistol. He frowned down a darkened hallway. “I need to secure the building. Sit tight; I’ll be right back.”

Jaye nodded. The tread of his combat boots retreated further into the abandoned house, and she let her head fall back as she waited for the pain to ebb. She closed her eyes to focus on the air moving through her lungs. Every inhale sent knives stabbing into her side from her broken ribs. Warm blood oozed against her palm from where she clutched at her side, fresh from the ragged gouges torn through both clothing and skin. The sharp ache made her fingers dig into the couch cushions, and a whine lodged in her throat. The pressure on open wounds stung, but it calmed her, somewhat.

Her arm stung, too, though not as much. She'd thrown up her arms to protect her head during the explosion, and she imagined the shrapnel had caught her there too. Close to her shoulder. She didn't bother looking.

By the time Red returned, her breathing had slowed to a shallow rhythm. An armful of supplies dropped onto the couch next to Jaye, and his heavy footsteps continued past her to the other side of the room. Without lifting her head, she cracked open her eyelids and tracked his movement to the boarded-up windows along the wall. Slivers of pale light fell across Red's face as he peered through the splintered gaps. His eyes sharpened as he looked out into the street. Bursts of gunfire still checkered the silence outside, but whoever was still shooting at each other was too far away for voices to carry. That didn't mean no one lay in wait around their hideout, though.

After a few tense seconds, the barest amount of tension released from Red's shoulders. Jaye breathed a small sigh of relief when he pulled away from the window.

“Clear.” He re-holstered his gun and joined her by the couch. Concrete dust still clung to his hair and clothing - it had rained down on both of them when he'd hauled her from the ground, and it made the blond look ashen. “Still with me, Bluebird?”

“...‘Course, sir.” Despite the circumstances, she managed not to sound horribly feeble.

Red unclipped her field kit for her and set it on the floor. He smoothed one of the things he’d brought with him over the couch cushions: an old bath towel, faded and frayed. “How’s your hearing?”

“Quiet. Ears’re ringin’.”

“Dizzy?”

She whined. “...'Little.”

Red glanced at her, scanning her face as a line formed in his brows, probably gauging her awareness. “If you start to feel nauseous at all, let me know.”

Jaye nodded, barely moving her head.

“I’m going to move you so I can get a better look at this. Try to breathe through your nose.”

Without waiting for her to respond, he slipped one arm behind her back and another under her legs and lifted her off of the worn furniture. She tensed with a strangled gasp. He laid her down so her head rested against the couch’s arm, and she held her breath to keep from crying out too loud. The hand not pressed to her side gripped the back of the couch until her nails clawed the upholstery. 

Red pushed her hair off of her forehead. “Easy, now. Easy.” 

He clicked on his tactical flashlight, and Jaye flinched at the sudden brightness. There came the sound of latex gloves stretching over skin, and then a hand laid against her stomach, right under the worst of her wounds. Red’s touch stilled some of the anxious thoughts flitting around Jaye's mind, but she still hissed a breath through clenched teeth. He placed a warm, gloved hand against her wrist. 

“Let me see,” he said.

Jaye relaxed enough so Red could peel her hand away from her side. It unstuck from blood-soaked fabric with a faint wet sound, and more blood welled up without any pressure to keep it in place. She craned her neck to catch a glimpse, but the sight of her own wounds made her vision swim. She fell back with a whimper.

“Probably best not to look,” Red said quietly.

Jaye nodded. She couldn’t bring herself to argue with that.

He released her hand and cut at her shirt to expose her injuries. Jaye swallowed hard. She fixed her eyes on the ceiling while he surveyed the damage, determined not to look again. He worked with precision - without much emotion, but not without care. It still hurt, though. As he flushed out the still-bleeding cuts and gashes, Jaye forced herself to stay quiet. Her face twitched with every gentle prod, and the sound of her strained breathing filled the silence between them.

After a bit, Red pulled back. “Not the cleanest of injuries, but it could be worse. I don’t think anything pierced your lungs, so you're not in danger of hemorrhaging. I'd say you were very lucky.”

Jaye hummed and licked her lips. “Unlucky- t’get caught in the blast.”

Red didn’t look up, but she still caught the flash of regret on his face. 

“I didn’t realize you’d be under fire,” he said. “I would have given you more direct cover.”

“S’alright. Only got blown up a little.”

“Hm.”  

She really had only been blown up a little. The delay on the explosives she’d set should have given her enough time to run to safety. Even with the surprise combatants showing up, she’d at least made it a little bit down the street before the building exploded. At least nothing had collapsed on her.

Red pulled out tweezers, gauze, and medical tape from the kit. “I'll give you something for the pain, then remove the worst of the shrapnel. That should be enough to patch you up. We can take care of the rest once we get back to the ship.” He reached into the field kit again and froze. When he looked down, his lips pressed into a thin line. “...I need to brace you for some bad news.”

Jaye let her head roll toward him, eyebrows barely raised. She’d used up too much energy talking earlier to voice an actual question. Red lifted a handful of vials for her to see - or the shattered remnants of them, anyway. Cracked and broken glass dripped the last of the medicine they’d once contained. None of them held even a half dose.

“They must have broken during the explosion,” he said, “Or when you hit the ground. Painkillers won’t be an option for this one, I’m afraid.”

The information sank in like a stone in her gut, and Jaye closed her eyes with a heavy sigh. “Awesome.”

“I’ll work as quickly as I can,” Red continued. “It won't be pleasant, but hopefully no worse than it has to be.”

Glass clinked as he set down the broken vials and prepared the other supplies. Maybe Jaye should have been more afraid, lying there and waiting for the pain, but annoyance rather than fear set her teeth on edge. Annoyance, and the pressing need to just get it over with, already. Her fingers dug harder into the couch.

“Get me somethin’ to bite on, at least,” she said. “Don't feel like crackin’ a molar today.”

Red folded a thick square of gauze and held it out to her. Her hand only shook a little as she grabbed it.

“Thanks.” She licked her lips one last time before placing it between her teeth.

Red placed his hand back on her side and met her gaze. His piercing blue met her own eyes without wavering. “Ready?”

Jaye nodded stiffly, teeth clenched in anticipation. The ends of the tweezers in Red's grip looked sharper than they had any right to be, and she tried not to imagine them carving into her skin. Her stomach turned, and she resolutely looked back up at the ceiling.

“Alright. Deep breath.”

She filled her lungs in a long, slow breath - as much as the sharp ache in her ribs allowed - and cold metal dipped into her wounds. Jaye’s body seized. Every limb and muscle turned rigid, one hand gripping the back of the couch, the other clutching at the cushion beside her. It was manageable, but her breath still lodged in her throat. She forced herself to hold it to keep herself from crying out.

Red's hand slid up to keep the edges of her wounds open, and he methodically picked glass and bits of concrete out of her skin. He stayed silent as he worked. Jaye knew he could keep his hands steady. She'd seen the way he shot targets a kilometer away without so much as a tremor disrupting his aim. But Ra alive, every time those needle-sharp points dug into her ribs, she could all but imagine them tearing bloody gashes in their wake.

It took all of her strength to stay still and not writhe away from the foreign touch. Tears bit the corners of her eyes as the discomfort grew, every piece of shrapnel adding up like little agonies. Her fist slammed repeatedly against the back of the couch. The dull thwap-thwap-thwap on the cushions replaced any sounds that tried to tear themselves from her throat.

Just before she reached her breaking point, it stopped. The pain cut out, and Red pulled away. Jaye collapsed with a shaky sigh, breathless and with all the strength sapped from her limbs.

“We’re taking a break,” Red said. 

Jaye’s hand dropped from the back of the couch. She only just barely managed to rip the gauze out of her mouth without hitting herself in the face. Her jaw ached, and she swallowed to keep her tongue from sticking to the roof of her mouth. She didn't think she could manage much more than that, so she focused instead on trying to pant for air without making her vision white out. Every inhale made her flinch.

Red didn't say anything while she collected herself. He never stopped watching her, either, attention splitting between her face and the rise and fall of her chest. That kind of look used to make her squirm under it, like a bug pinned to a board. Now though, the familiar intensity made the adrenaline in her bloodstream stop buzzing so much. She wondered how much of her blood coated his hands.

“Can you take a deep breath?” he asked.

Jaye shook her head with a whine. “Hurts.”

“Just try.”

Jaye grit her teeth and pulled a slow, purposeful breath through her nose. More tears swelled behind her eyes, but she pressed her lips into a tight grimace and ignored the feel of her ribs grinding against each other. She couldn't bear to hold it. Somehow, she forced herself to let it go slowly and not all in one rush. A tired groan edged her exhale. Red's gaze never wavered.

"Not in danger of pneumothorax, I don't think," he said. "Good thing; I've never preformed a needle aspiration before."

Jaye's eyebrows lifted a fraction. She didn't have the energy for inflection, and her words came out amusingly dull. "Ooo, that could be fun."

"No, it wouldn't. Are you ready to continue? We have about halfway to go."

"Sure. Why not?"

Before he could reply or ready the tweezers again, a mortar shell detonated somewhere in the city. Still far off, but closer than it should've been. Both Red and Jaye turned to the boarded-up windows. The explosion resounded in Jaye's sternum, tremors rumbling through the ground and making the building around them shudder. Dust shower down from the ceiling, just a little. It could have been Theo's Saladin. Could have been something else, too.

"Better make it quick, pretty boy," Jaye said after a moment.

The crease between Red's brows didn't leave as he pulled his attention away from the far wall. "You can flirt after I've removed the projectiles from your body." His hand returned to her stomach. "The others will take care of it. Bite down again."

He gave her just enough time to clamp her teeth around the gauze before the fire in her side started again. Red finished with her ribs and moved onto her arm, gripping just above her elbow to hold her steady. A headache pulsed in her temples with the effort to keep in her screams.

She'd braced herself to hold out for just as long as the first time, but then Red pulled his hands away before she expected.

"It's done," he said.

Jaye let herself melt into the couch. She caught her breath through layers of cotton, too exhausted to even take the gauze out of her mouth. With efficient movements, Red tore off lengths of corrective tape from her kit and began dressing her wounds. He pressed the tape against her arm to activate it, and the gentle squeeze made her hiss. The warmth eased her pain soon enough.

She nearly yelped when he did it to her side, barely holding back a yelp. Jaye forced herself to lay flat on the couch - at least the gauze muffled the strangled noises she made.

When he was done, Red pulled his gloves off inside-out. He eased the makeshift gag from between Jaye's teeth, and she snarled at him as soon as she could form words.

"Ribs're- fucking broken, you idiot.”

"Apologies."

He busied himself with gathering up stained towels and packing supplies back into her kit. Without the gauze in her mouth gumming up the rest of her senses, the sharp smell of blood sat heavy in the back of her throat. She rolled her eyes to look at her teammate.

"Second half went…quicker'n before," she said.

"I..may have lied." Red glanced up at her, but didn't stop what he was doing. "I had removed more than half of the shrapnel when I called the break."

Jaye huffed out a weak laugh and let her head roll to the side. "Fuckin' asshole."

Red gave her the barest of smiles. "If you can insult me, that means you're not dying."

"Jus' lemme know when we need to move. I know we can't stay long."

Red hummed. A blanket rested on the floor next to him, and he unfolded it to drape over her. It smelled of dust and mildew as he tucked it around her shoulders, and only then did Jaye realize she'd been trembling. She hadn't even noticed.

"Rest, for now," he said. "Once the others confirm that they've completed their mission, I'll contact them with our coordinates."

Jaye wanted to comment that the situation hardly called for abandoning their planned rendezvous, but arguing with her squad lead took more energy than she could spend right now. And…maybe she wouldn't mind a few minutes of rest - regardless how ill-advised. Instead, she simply narrowed her eyes at him.

Red's expression softened. "Close your eyes. If it looks like there's trouble, I promise I'll wake you."

"…Yessir."

Giving her shoulder one last pat, Red rose to his feet and unholstered his pistol for another perimeter check, taking his flashlight with him. Jaye watched him until he left her line of sight, then reluctantly obeyed his orders. The distant, bursting gunfire kept her company in the dark as she tried to rest.

[whump-and-other-misfortunes]

Whumpuary 2024 Day 8

8. (Jan 15-16) Muffled Screams / Hostage / "You look awful" 

cw captive whumpee, hostage, bound/gagged, defiant whumpee, intimate whumper 

“Your screaming is really starting to get on my nerves.” 

Whumpee’s eyes narrowed into a poisonous glare. It was kind of cute, really—those big doe eyes shooting daggers at Whumper. As if there was anything they could do while tied to the chair. They made another angry, muffled noise behind the gag that sounded like it was supposed to be a sentence. 

“What was that?” Whumper teased, stopping in front of Whumpee and smirking down at them. “I can’t understand you, honey.” 

Their hostage screamed again, pulling uselessly at their restraints. This was fun already; Whumper wondered how much more fun it would be if the little spitfire could talk. 

They circled behind the chair and began untying the gag, shushing Whumpee when they flinched away. “I’m not going to hurt you. Not yet, anyway.” 

Whumpee jerked their head away as the scarf was pulled from their mouth. “Untie me right the fuck now!” they demanded. 

“Fiesty,” Whumper commented with amusement. They ruffled Whumpee’s hair before walking leisurely back in front of them. “You certainly are brave—or is it reckless, maybe? Don’t you know you’re my hostage?” 

“If you were going to kill me, you would have done it already,” they growled.  

“I don’t want to kill you. But there’s other ways for me to shut you up. Teach you to obey.” 

“I’m not afraid of you.” Still glaring, still struggling, but the poor thing looked exhausted. Whumper could see the tired look in their eyes, and the carefully guarded fear. Their clothes were dirty and rumpled, hair messy, and a bruise was forming on one of their forearms. 

Whumper raised an eyebrow. “You look awful.” 

The comment earned them an annoyed huff this time. “You just kidnapped me, how am I supposed to look?” 

“Listen,” Whumper said with a sigh, pinching the bridge of their nose. “I’m just waiting on your guys to give me the money, okay? And then I'll let you go. So just chill the fuck out until then.” 

“Untie me.” 

“What, do you think I'm crazy?” Whumper asked. “No, you’re staying right there, safely restrained, until I'm done with you.” 

Those big, doe eyes looked up at Whumper, imploring now rather than defiant. “Please?” 

“I’m not falling for that.” 

“Worth a shot,” Whumpee said with a shrug. “Just so you know—as soon as I get free, I’m gonna kill you.” 

Whumper laughed. They placed their hands on Whumpee’s wrists and leaned over them, pressing a gentle kiss to their cheek despite Whumpee’s protest. With a grin, they murmured, “Oh honey, I can’t wait to see you try.” 

[fujikasa]

Ms. He, can I have this one?

OH NO! HERE COMES TROUBLE | 不良執念清除師 Episode 8

[iwritewhump]

"You have to promise I'll come back" + returning home + muffled screams

day 24 of @whumptember

658 words

warnings: young whumpee (implied), betrayal, recapture, physical overpowering

part two | part three

---

“Villain?” Hero asks, lowering her head to his level. He stares at her, eyes fuzzy. His eyebrows knit together and Hero repeats herself, “Will you be able to do this?” 

He nods, “Yeah, I-I can do that. Just, um, promise I’ll come back?” 

Hero scans his face, forcing a smile, “Of course you’ll come back, if I thought anything would happen to you, I wouldn’t let you go.” she puts her hands on his shoulders and pulls him into a hug, “Nothing’s going to happen. You have my word.” 

He rests his chin in the crook of her neck and closes his eyes, reveling in her comfort. She pats his back and pulls away. Sniffling, she bumps his forehead with her fist and stands up. “You ready?” 

He nods and takes the hand she offers, squeezing it tightly as they walk out of Hero’s base and to the car. The ride is silent, Hero steals quick looks at him, making sure he wasn’t just doing this for her. He had to want to do this, not just feel obligated. God, she hopes this is the right choice. 

The car stops in front of Supervillain’s lair. Hero glances at Villain, and smiles when he looks at her. “We can go back,” she offers. “Right now. We could leave and go back. But as soon as we get out of the car, there’s no turning around.” 

She’s begging him, begging him to let her save him. To let them turn away and for her to take care of him until she dies. But he won’t let her. Because he doesn’t know. 

He shakes his head and steps out of the car, “We can do this. Then, we can go back. It’ll be alright, we can watch cartoons all night and sleep in.” 

She clears her throat and ruffles his hair, “And we can make cookies for breakfast.” 

“Lunch,” he corrects. “I’m not waking up before noon.” 

She bites her cheek and takes a step forward, “Lunch it is.” 

They walk into the lair, Villain getting closer to her by the step until he’s all but clinging to her. She wraps an arm around his shoulder and presses a kiss to his temple, hoping to keep him calm. 

“Ah,” Supervillain says, descending the staircase. “You brought him.” 

Villain tenses under her, trying to hide under her arm. He whispers, “What’s he talking about?” 

Hero stares ahead and ignores him, “Where do we go?” 

Villain tries to pull away from her, “What are you doing? This was supposed-you promised! Hero, please.” he digs his heels into the ground. “Don’t do this. You promised me.” 

She wraps her other arm around him and hugs him tightly. With a breaking voice she says, “I’m so sorry, Villain. This is the only way to stop him.” 

Supervillain comes up behind him and takes him from her, a small smile on his face. “You did the right thing. He’s all I wanted.” He holds Villain close against him, a hand digging into his shoulder to keep him still. “You’ve saved your city, congratulations.” 

“Wait!” she says, running up to Villain. She cups his cheek and bites the inside of her lip, “I’m so sorry, Villain.” 

He stares at her, tears forming in his eyes. “You’re sorry?” he spits. “You fucking promised me. You promised I wouldn’t end up here again. You looked at me, in the fucking eyes and promised I’d be ok. You said-”

Supervillain cuts him off with a hand over his mouth. “That’s enough.” Villain struggles under his hand, still screaming at her. The tears fall down his cheeks and his face turns red. “You should go, Hero. It’s not going to get any better. You know how he is.” 

She glances at him again, heart aching at the sight of his small frame under Supervillain’s hand. She runs out of the lair, forcing herself to look ahead. It was the only way.

[whumpshots]

Whump ABC #13 - Muffled screams

Based on the results of this poll.

_

Caretaker hates being in their "work mode".

They don't speak much, but when they do, they bark orders to not lose time to the severity of the situation. Tonight, caretaker has to get back into their "work mode".

The situation is urgent, whumpee got injured badly during the fight, only a sheer amount of luck helped both whumpee and the team mate to get here without any incidents, but caretaker knows that their hiding place could be discovered any time.

"I need you to hold this over whumpee's mouth," they say and look at team mate who looks at the piece of cloth with widened eyes. Caretaker hates their next words, but they can't lose any more time. "I know this sucks. But we can't let them discover us. And I need to work quickly. Now do as I told you."

The other nods and moves quickly enough before caretaker starts working on resetting the broken bone.

Caretaker hates being in their "work mode".

Because no matter how much they try to ignore them, the muffled screams ring in their ears. Those screams will haunt them at night, in their dreams. The despair, the pain. Even the cloth, the hand can't stop both to hit caretaker with full force.

Whumpee's muffled screams and choked sobs ring in caretaker's ears as they try to remind themself that these sounds are proof that the other is still alive.

[onlywhump]

Whumptober 2022 - Muffled Screams

No. 27 - PUSHED TO THE LIMIT

Muffled Screams | Stumbling | Magical Exhaustion

Read the previous part here

Cw// electrocution, stress positions, mentions of past torture, death mention, burn mention, intimate whumper, sadistic whumper

Team Leader’s elbows were sore beyond belief. Rubbing against the rough floor each time they shifted around, they were surely bleeding. In any other context, resting on their elbows would be relaxing. The pipe twisting their arms behind his back made it torturous. Actually, was more their arms twisted around it, the metal resting in the crook of their elbows. All they wanted was to stretch, but no, Whumper had other plans. Having them wake up sitting on their tied arms was apparently one of them. They groaned.

“Good morning, ‘Team Leader,’” Whumper mocked, seemingly appearing behind them. Their stomach lurched.

“Whumper,” they returned the empty greeting, bitter spite audible in the single word spoken.

“Bad mood today?” Whumper set something down behind them, unraveling what looked like wires in their peripherals.

“Oh, you noticed? I fucking wonder why.” There were two metallic clicks as Whumper knelt down behind them.

“Don’t worry. Your day will become a bit more…” Leader knew they were smirking by the tone of their voice. It made them sick. “Electrifying in a moment.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” A piece of fabric was forced in their mouth before they could finish speaking. “No-“ it was tied tightly around the back of their head.

“I don’t want you biting your tongue.” Whumper’s tone was cold, paralyzing Leader in their place. “There we go. I just care for your safety, Leader.” Leader’s eyes narrowed. Like hell you do. They turned away. “Oh, don’t give me that look. An accidental wound isn’t something I want to give you.” They patted Leader’s cheek. “Yet.” Leader whimpered. “Oh, come on, Leader. Live a little.” There was a quiet electric humming as a flip was switched on. Leader’s eyes widened.

“No… no.. nononono… no-“

“Don’t worry. It won’t kill you.” Leader’s world erupted into pain. Their legs kicked out, elbows slipping from the ground. Their back arched, head hitting the floor as they writhed in blinding agony. They found the reason for the gag it served to keep them from biting their tongue.

Then, it was over. Whumper was laughing.

“Think you can go again?” No. They couldn’t. They couldn’t possibly. They were still recovering when the electricity hit them again. They felt like they had been knocked off their feet, even though they were already on the ground. They were glad the gag muffled their screams, which still echoed around the room all the same.

Pain. Pain. Their world was pain. They were pain. Nothing Whumper had done in the past compared to the pain now. The whippings, the burnings, they weren’t even in the same ballpark.

Again. And again. And again. Leader sobbed, broken. Their begging was incoherent through the gag. Whumper wasn’t stopping. Leader was beginning to think they weren’t planning to. They were going to die. Their heart felt ready to explode. Please. Please. Please. Please. Their eyes were wide in fear. Their fingers clawed at the concrete. Their back arched, feet slipping on the floor. Their arms had given out a long time ago. Their screams turned from agonized to panicked. They could no longer control their breathing. If Whumper didn’t stop-

Their skin was drenched in sweat, their hair stuck to their forehead. They were freezing cold and burning hot at the same time. Through blurry vision they could see Whumper leaning over them. Tapping their cheek. They shook their head, leaning away. The gag was pulled from their mouth and they gasped.

Please don’t. Please don’t. Don’t. Don’t. Don’t.

Whumper placed a hand on their chest as they attempted to regulate their breathing. They hated to admit that Whumper’s touch grounded them. The hand over their heart, the soft, gentle brushes of Whumper’s fingers across their chest, it made them melt. They hadn’t felt such comfort since they were with their team.

“There we go. Deep breaths. That’s it.” For a moment, Leader forgot they lay in Whumper’s basement. They forgot about the past week. Two weeks. They didn’t know how long it had been. “It has a kick, doesn’t it?” Whumper patted Leader’s chest, making them cough. “Yeah, yeah. Take it easy.”

They were gentle handling Leader’s body from then on. They unclipped the wires from the pipe, hissing as they were shocked in the process. Leader knew it was nowhere close to the strength of the shocks they had to endure. Two clicks sounded as the wires were tossed to the side. They felt sick. “Up you go.”

They sat Leader up, holding the back of their neck. Leader groaned weakly, head dropping forward. Whumper began to untie their arms, the pipe clattering to the floor as the ropes came undone. The release of pressure was painful and Leader squeezed their eyes shut, taking a shuddering breath. Whumper guided their arms down, helping them stretch. “Ooh, those are some nasty burns you have there.” Whumper whistled. “We should get them patched up.”

Only then did Leader register the other pains in their body. There were so many. It was overwhelming. They whined as their body went limp, tilting to the side. “Woah, woah.” Whumper caught them, laying them gently down. “Okay. You did great. You did great, you know that?” Whumper patted their head. “You can rest tonight.” They walked away, chuckling to themself.

Taglist: @whumptober-archive @leafywritingwhump (ask to be added!)