#wij22day15

[callaeidae3]

Whumpmas in July Day 15: Numb

@whumpmasinjuly

Who are you, Kyle Kindall? Who are you in this world?

All your pain is hidden from the world, and you hide your pain away from yourself. Numbing it, overwhelming it, smothering it in a deafening silence...

...until you no longer feel anything.

No longer feel anything at all.

...

This is survival, is it not?

[whumpinthepot]

Day 15: Numb

Whumpee is covered in numbing cream, to the point where they can’t feel the pain being inflicted on them. The only thing they can do is watch as the cream slowly wears off and the pain starts to tickle, then itch, then *burn*, until it’s excruciating. Be that burns, cuts, whip marks, bruises. All they can do is slowly try to cope as the pain becomes more and more intense.

[noirineverysense]

WiJ Day 15 - Numb

The shuttle is spinning and moving faster than it should, the fuel level needs checking, something's fallen off that's probably important. But she doesn't move from her seat. Her eyes are closed, attempting for even a few minutes of sleep. Whatever happens happens, she supposed.

Her eyes open to find the blackness of space, the stars still as far from here as ever, forming clusters of the galaxies she was supposed to be investigating. She scoffs, like she'll ever make it that far.

Her best bet is to find a moon or satellite nearby to where she is, and land in some desperate hope of a survivable atmosphere. Unlikely, especially considering she has no idea where she is in any case. She wonders what her last minutes will be, maybe watching an asteroid get closer and closer, helpless in her barely manuevarable shuttle. Maybe her craft simply breaks apart, leaving her floating in the empty until her oxygen finally runs out.

Or she just starves to death, she'll be out of food soon. Wouldn't that be a sad way to go? All the way out in space yet still dying in the way a farmer would after a few too many dry seasons, or a child would in a conflict zone. Completely helpless to both the uncaring environment and the whims of humans.

Of course she hasn't forgotten, the people who did this to her. Who put all of humanity's hope onto the 274th flight into space.

There's no hope here, only a darkness that pulls despite the lack of gravity. Earth was the only hope there was and now...

She shakes her head, no point wasting her energy worrying about a place she'll never return too. No, instead she should make her peace with the fact that this junk that could barely be considered a spacecraft becoming her grave.

Maybe she could phrase it poetically: she'll lay to rest amongst the stars. No, that doesn't help either. If anything it makes it worse.

Her musings are interrupted by a light through her window, a ray that pierced through the darkness. She realised that it was an object reflecting light from a nearby star. She squints her eyes as a large round object came into view, seemingly less than a hundred thousand miles away.

Something pulled at her chest, that almost felt like hope.

A planet!

@whumpmasinjuly

[forthetaintedsorrow-whump]

Whumpmas In July 2022 Day 15: Numb

I don’t really have the time to make something new specifically for this (I gots projects! Lots of them!) and so without a sudden inspiration, I’mma reblogging a work that fits the prompt:

Contents: hypothermia, noncon mention

Chuuya shivered through the piercing ice crystals, blinking as they batted his face and brushed his lashes.  His eyes teared in the gusty, frigid wind.  The sun was dazzling and bounced off the white ice cliff, blinding in its intensity.  Chuuya raised his arm up to cast some meager shade so he could see.  His bare feet crunched through the snow crust, but he could barely feel it scrape the thin skin on his ankles for the numbness.  His entire skin was numb, his fingers with hardly any feeling, and he rubbed his arms and blew cold breath on them, but it didn’t make a difference with the wind blowing her breath harder and colder. He stumbled and leaned against the frigid wall of ice, trying to peer inside past the burning white, all shades of cold and ice and frozen heat that wouldn’t do anything to warm him.  His blurry vision could make out the pale grey-blue of shadow, ice blocking the sun.  He stumbled into the small cove.  Immediately, the fingers of grasping wind died.  Chuuya crouched down, shivering, trying to breathe some heat into his naked body.  His arms crossed over his knees, his head ducked down, hands gripping hard, bruising, on his shoulders, his forehead tucked against his forearms.  He wished Amos would come.  The tracking signal in his collar was his only hope of survival. He wanted to care how he was only a captive, but at the moment the only thing he cared about was being warm, safe, not dying.  Amos was warm, his arms were strong, he cared even in that twisted way, at least cared about Chuuya’s survival, and Chuuya didn’t care if he was being filled with liquid heat, he just wanted to…wanted to….

Please come.

~

Please reblog if you like it.

@whumpmasinjuly

[emcscared-whumps]

WiJ 2022 - 15: Numb (6/9)

WiJ 2022 Navigation Post

This one fell a bit behind too bc I was just Tired lmao, bUT, the next prompt will def be out on time because it's already DONE!

This little series probably feels janky atm, and it'll probably stay that way, but uh, I'll be duplicating my document to remove the separating titles and make edits and hopefully get it beta'd to make sure its flow is cohesive and makes sense :D

Anyways, enough preamble: enjoy

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CONTENT and WARNINGS: mer/shifter whumpee (in mer form!), Dark Thoughts TM (thoughts of own demise, not really su1 tho), pollution/fishing waste used for whump purposes, fishing hooks etc. embedded in skin, hypothermia, strangulation mention, vague dehumanisation allusions

wc: ~0.2k

The cold was both a blessing and a curse.

Cold needles danced and prickled all across his skin and scales. It almost felt like hands of nails were pressing on his entire body, shoving the hooks and straps ever-deeper into his flesh. The frigid water dulled sensation in his fins and fingers, and the icy ache crept slowly up his arms. While it stemmed the bleeding and siphoned away the sharp agony of the hooks and strapping bands, it was only temporary, and it didn’t stop the throbbing pain that accompanied his wounds on every weak heartbeat.

Worst of all, he couldn’t move. It wasn’t just the nets though; he could barely twitch his fingers to try and untangle himself between each wave violent wave. It wasn’t just the pain the cold had sapped, but his energy.

The waves rocked him, twisted him, and turned him over in an unrelenting cycle. He wasn’t sure which way was up anymore, but what did it matter…? Even if he got out of whatever this was, he wouldn’t make it back to shore. If he did, he’d be seen and killed.

Would he be stabbed? Strangled with the ropes and bands he came wrapped in? Or would they prolong his suffering and call the hunters to take him away, to keep the beach and the humans’ consciences clean of his blood?

The numbness continued to spread, now working up his tail and into his shoulders, and he could feel his shivers beginning to ebb. How much longer would he stay like this?

He didn’t want to think about it, but the answer kept niggling;

For the rest of my life.

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If you read and enjoyed this, please consider a reblog ^-^

Taglist:

@whumpmasinjuly

@dang-i-like-whump

@whump-cravings

If you would like to be added or removed from my taglist (general prompts or canon), please feel free to dm/let me know :)

[hardygalwrites]

Day 15 Prompt: Numb

Prompt by @whumpmasinjuly (click here for the complete 2022​ itinerary)

Part of the “Team SA37 series”

← Prompt: Rebellion – Prompt: “Make me” →

Feat. me being a day late again more of caretaker!Jam, him still being on survival mode, a lot of stuttering, and everyone being really freakin cold

WARNING: some swearing (707 seems to do a lot of that I don’t know how this happened)

(image source)

numb, adjective: (of a part of the body) deprived of the power of physical sensation OR unable to think, feel, or respond normally

—

It was cold.

That was the first thing Tigress noticed when she was slowly and miserably dragged from sleep to something resembling wakefulness. Her body felt stiff and she could barely feel her fingers or toes. The rest of her body she could definitely feel though, as proven when Tigress tried to curl up on her side, only for her leg to immediately punish her in the form of throbbing pain. The resulting groan came out hoarse and shuddery.

“Hey, f-finally awake- awake, huh?”

Tigress turned her head and looked down to see 707, still lying on the ground beside the cot, but awake this time. He looked just as cold and miserable as she was - teeth grit, body shaking, hands clearly clenched around the underside of the blanket still covering him.

After taking note of 707’s presence, Tigress glanced around the cabin with slightly bleary eyes.

“Good- Good morning t’ you too,” 707 grumbled.

Light peeked in through the windows, rendered white and washed out by the snow falling in a relentless sheet outside. The windows and door were still rattling, though slightly less so than before. The fire appeared to have gone out, save for a few sad embers. And, most notably, Jam was nowhere to be seen.

“Wh-ere’s… Jam?” Tigress asked.

707 shook his head. “F-Fuck if I know… Wasn’t here when I– woke up.”

“How long ago… was th-that?”

“Few minutes ‘go maybe…” 707 grunted and groaned as he slowly pushed himself into an upright position. “K-Kinda hard t’ tell.”

Following 707’s suit in slowly and painfully sitting upright, Tigress glanced back at the embers in the fireplace. “P-Perhaps… he went to get more firewood.”

“Sp-eakin’ of,” 707 said, tucking his hands tight beneath his armpits. “Where the h-hell are we?”

“A cabin that Jam found… H-He carried us here… after the cr- crash.”

“God-damn. W-Wouldn’t’ve ‘xpected that…”

Tigress could not deny she was still surprised by that as well.

“He s-said you punched him in the face,” she added.

707 let out a shivery laugh. “Y-Yeah? G- Guess that urge’s finally outta my system th-en…”

The two just sat there for a few moments, shivering, wincing, staring at the rattling door.

Within those few moments, Tigress began the still slow but far more excruciating process of shifting her legs off the side of the cot. Biting back her whines and groans, she took care not to accidentally kick 707 in the head. Not like she would have done much damage given how slowly she was moving. Tigress barely even felt the pressure of the shoe soles against her feet as she planted them on the wooden floor.

“T-Two injured agents,” Tigress hissed, “v-venturing out into a snowstorm…”

“Y-Yeah, kinda g-guaranteed suicide…” 707 muttered. “Sh- it.”

The door burst open. It was a testament to just how numb and exhausted they were that both Tigress and 707 could not do much more than flinch and watch as a smaller figure rushed into the cabin in a flurry of snow and cold wind. Said figure quickly slammed the door behind them with their body before turning to face the two agents.

“H-Hey, you g-guys are awa- awake,” Jam stuttered out, his face largely hidden by the parka hood pulled tightly over his face and the bundle of wood clutched in his arms. “S-Sorry ‘bout the– J-J-Just gimme a s-ec.”

Jam stumbled and rushed past the two of them, dropping to his knees in front of the fireplace and dumping the wood onto the floor in front of it.

“I tr-ied to stay up,” Jam said as he began poking and placing some of the wood into the fireplace embers, “b-but I th-ink I fell asl-sleep ‘round when it got light.”

He blew on the embers for a second, before scrambling to his feet and stumbling over to the table. Tigress saw him grab a box of matches, and then he was kneeling back in front of the fireplace, poking some smaller twigs into the embers.

“Fire must’ve… F-Fire went out while I was s-sleeping,” Jam continued his explanatory ramble. The box of matches rattled in his hand as he opened it and pulled out a single match. “S-So sorry ‘bout that.”

With clearly trembling hands, Jam struggled to light the match.

“Jam,” Tigress started, but the match lit up at that moment, and Jam carefully lit the kindling (as carefully as one could with trembling hands).

After a few seconds of coaxing, a small fire started to grow within the fireplace. Tigress found herself instinctively leaning towards the growing warmth.

“Okay,” Jam sighed. He stood up and spread his arm towards the fireplace. “Th-There we go. Sorry–”

“Jam.” Tigress looked the younger agent in the eye as he turned to her. “Th-ank you.”

Jam’s hood had fallen back at some point during his frantic attempts to reignite the fire, giving Tigress a clear view of his face. It was pale, making the bruise on his cheek stand out starkly. His eyes looked to be slightly bloodshot. Despite all of that, Jam still lit up ever so slightly as he gave her a small smile and nod.

Over the next few minutes, the fire continued to grow along with the heat, until the fire was a modest blaze and the heat eased the shivers of every agent within the cabin. Meanwhile, Jam took the time to check on their injuries.

“How are you feeling?” Jam asked as he pulled back 707’s parka to check his shoulder and side.

“Like I got shot,” 707 deadpanned. “Ow! Fuck!”

“Sorry!” Jam lifted his hands away from the older agent, looking alarmed. “I was just trying to see how fresh this blood is…! It looks like the wound in your back here bled through a little bit.”

707 puffed out his cheeks with a harsh breath. “Don’t give me another excuse to punch you, newbie...”

Jam let out a small chuckle and covered the bruise on his cheek. “What about you, Agent Tigress?”

“Still a bit tired,” Tigress admitted. She allowed Jam to pull back her parka to check on her bicep. “My leg is absolutely killing me, I won’t lie.”

“Well, it looks like all of your bandages are okay for now,” Jam said slowly. “Let’s just hope it stays that way until we can get help.”

“How are you feeling, Jam?”

“Me? I’m fine…! I’m not the one who got shot!”

Tigress narrowed her eyes at Jam, but she could see nothing except the physical signs that he was undergoing any stress. Jam seemed oblivious to Tigress’s evaluating gaze as he got up and walked over to the corner with the table.

“I’ve been spending a lot of time looking over this cabin while you guys were sleeping, and check this out…”

Crouching down, Jam slipped his fingertips into a small notch in the floorboards. He pulled, and a portion of the floorboards gave way to the force, slotting out from the ground and revealing a large hole beneath the floorboards.

Jam looked up at Tigress and 707 with a grin. “Secret trapdoor.”

“Cool,” 707 muttered. “Find anything in there to get us outta this shit?”

“Well… no,” Jam admitted, his face and posture falling. “It’s just a small, like, little storage area type thing.”

“Was there anything stored in there?” Tigress asked.

“No. Not that I could find...” Jam placed the floorboards back into their slot, and the hole disappeared. “But! I climbed inside, and I’d say it’s big enough that you guys could fit if you needed to. Y’know, if Moss happens to track us down.”

“God, well, way to fuckin’ jinx it,” 707 said with an exaggerated roll of his eyes.

“Heh.” Jam stood up, his smile and laugh slightly rueful. “My luck does seem to have gotten pretty bad since joining Double Eye. But hey! I didn’t get shot yesterday, so maybe that’s changing…!”

“I dunno about that one, kid.”

Either Jam did not care to respond or he was distracted by whatever was going on outside, his gaze drawn to one of the windows. Which, Tigress only now realised, were no longer rattling.

“Jam,” Tigress said slowly, “are you sure you’re all right?”

“Looks like the snowstorm’s stopped!” Jam exclaimed. “You two stay here, I’m gonna go and see if there’s, like, a path or anything that could help us out.”

“Wait, what?” 707 sounded genuinely incredulous. “Kid–”

Jam was already gone, parka zipped up, hood over his head, door pulled shut behind him.

“Dammit,” 707 growled. He tried to stand up, but quickly fell back on the ground with a pained swear. “Stupid kid. Little shit’s gonna collapse out in the middle of nowhere.”

“He’s on adrenaline,” Tigress said, “but that’s only going to last so long.”

“Tch. He’s more stubborn than 37.”

Tigress glanced at her teammate, who currently had his head tipped back against the cot and was frowning at the wooden ceiling.

“Yeah,” Tigress murmured.

She lay back on the cot and joined 707 in staring at the ceiling and in being uncertain of whether or not that trait was a good or a bad thing.

[cryptidwritings]

Whumpmas in July - Day 15 : Numb

Whump scenarios:

Caretaker has to administer a numbing agent. Whumpee isn't having it.

Whumper likes to use numbing cream after torture.

Whumpee ends up with a broken limb, and their extremety is going numb because of it. They begin to panic.

The moment whumpee realizes they aren't getting away from whumper.

The moment whumper realizes they no longer enjoy torturing whumpee.