babe wake up new whumpay prompts dropped. like last year, im posting early for more time to prepare
Welcome to Whumpay 2024! Up above you will see the basic prompt list and down below the cut you will see it written out in a list, as well as three mini challenges (and by extension, the extreme edition)
For twelve hours a day, every day, Evelyn had been tested.
They asked him to build from schematics. They asked him to design schematics. They immobilized him in the same chair and had him direct others to build machines.
They gave him drugs. A lot of drugs. They would dose him with something that made him nauseous and faint and dizzy and asked him to complete tasks. Solve equations. Answer their questions. Blindfolded. Ears plugged. Starved. Sleep-deprived. Sedated. Hot. Cold. Dizzy.
Over and over and over.
He was tested under every possible circumstance. Every possible test. Until now.
“It’s going to hurt.”
“Can’t be that bad, right?”
Ash frowned at Mel and sighed loudly out of his nose. “You ready then?”
Mel nodded.
Ash jumped, slammed his hands down on the table, and swept their food trays off. The hard plastic clattered loudly on the tile and the food painted the jumpsuits of the nearby people.
Mel’s wide eyes goaded Ash on.
“The fuck did you say?” Ash shouted.
Then he threw himself across the table and tackled Mel to the ground. One punch to the nose got Mel’s blood flowing. Several guards jogged over and tried to pull him off her. Soon enough, Ash felt a prick on the back of his neck, and then nothing.
He stopped wrestling Mel and reached back. There was a dart sticking out of his neck. He yanked it out and saw the yellow band about the metal casing. His lips went numb. His fingers tingled. His hands fell to his sides.
And Ash slumped to the tile floor, hitting it cheek first. It hurt like a bitch.
1k words, original characters
CW: female and male whumpees, male whumper, noncon drug use, restraints, kidnapping, brief language
Day three.
It had been three days since Whumper had started his experiments. In hindsight, it was not a lot. Just the start of a grueling few months. But that did not make it any less agonizing.
If anything more so.
Whumpee let out a scream as yet another convulsion rocked through them. Their nerves alighted, constricting painfully, twisting their body into uncontrollable angles. Bones bending and ligaments popping. Whumper sat across from them, cross-legged, expression unreadable behind his red glasses. As the wave passed, and they came down from the shock, he scribbled something onto the notebook in his lap.
Heavy breaths filled the room, only accompanied by the scratch of his pen. They closed their eyes and tried to calm their racing heart. The thud of his boots brought them back from their respite.
“Go on, try to melt them.” He referred to the chains around their wrists, but they would not do as he asked.
They spit in his face, watching with satisfaction at his disgusted look. “Rupūžė…” He wiped it away angrily. “Fine.” He said, annoyed. “I can do it manually.”
He grabbed their right hand, palm up, while shoving the chain further down their arm. The ever present scalpel flipped out from his jacket, and he unclasped a pin from one of the three side appendages.
They tried to pull out of his grasp, but his hold was too tight. They then tried bringing their joined hands to their mouth, but he tugged them hard off kilter.
“Ah, ah, ah. You’re not biting me again.”
Still holding their hand in a tight grip, he brought the pin to the tendon in their wrist, poking a precise point on the muscle. Reflexively her hand twitched and sparks flew from her palm.
“Hey-”
“You shouldn’t be able to do that.” He dropped their hand carelessly, turning back to consult his notebook. “Well… Gal, jeigu keisiu…”
All they could do is sit there in the chains while he made a new batch of the red liquid. He carefully measured the various chemicals, writing in his notes again at each addition and mumbling to himself throughout.
Half an hour later— it could be longer, their track of time was getting worse with the way the drug muddled with their mind— he approached them with a syringe once again. The notebook was out, the only words they could read were ‘Trial 19’.
The needle pressed into their vein and Whumpee prepared themselves for the next round.
Will post one excerpt per theme bc I simply do not have The Time!!
Characters: sadistic Whumper and coward Whumpee. TWs: nonsexual nudity, extreme fear, restraints, male whump, implied organ harvesting
Whumpee found himself at a loss as the metal door creaked open.
The cold tiled room held only one powerful light, its brilliance bounced across a gleaming metallic surface positioned in the center of the room. As a whole it was empty, containing only one chair, a cooler box, and two rolling cabinets on either side of the operating table.
“No... no way.”
The captor's gloved, heavy hands rested on both of Whumpee’s shoulders.
“Are you surprised?” Whumper said almost directly into Whumpee's ear. He cocked an eyebrow. “You know how this works.”
I'm gonna suggest #6 - False Execution for the Minichallenge. It's pure hell for those whom it's broadcasted for. It's also something the Berezniki guards could gleefully televise for GDF to throw them off the scent. And Jeff got the recording... Or it could be a show to get Scott to cooperate in any number of scenarios - if he doesn't want any MORE brothers executed. Endless possibilities of pain!
@whumpay day 6, prompt 6 from the Mini Challenge 1
With much thanks to @the-original-sineater and @mariashades
WARNING: MCD by execution.
~
Scott lost time. Lots of time.
CW: self-cutting, restraints, kidnapping, mention of vivisection, female whumper, gender neutral whumpee
They don't let him touch the hurting thing in his head. He still hasn't seen it. But he feels it there in his skull, pulsing and aching when they string him up to check it. The metal suture bolts sting and tug and the transplant droops like it's soft, like it's hair.
But it isn't hair. It goes deeper. When Hagar touches it, Shiro thinks he feels fingertips somewhere under the searing pain. Beyond his skin, somewhere his brain doesn't understand how he can perceive it.
It's healing. It's knitting into him. He's starting to know how to move his head so it doesn't hurt, how to protect the surgical site if a sentry takes a swing at him. He can think straight sometimes, enough to worry. What is it for?
What will it do to him?
____________________________________________________________
I always liked the idea of Shiro's white hair being caused by something other than stress. In my Roots/Routes AU, Hagar implanted an Altean root into him as part of her ongoing efforts to reproduce Altean magic users (my Alteans are plant-based organisms).
Over time Shiro learns this gives him a weird mix of Altean and human quintessence use characteristics. He's sort of a hybrid now.
This was for @whumpay day 3: Made into a Lab Rat! Had tons of fun making the scars and the restraint system (I do love restraint systems).
The author has indicated this post may contain content that may not be suitable for all audiences.
they had been winning the fight. jaide and her two lesser skilled henchmen were outnumbered and outgunned. but that didn't last when one of the henchmen grabbed bryony by the throat, slamming her into the wall and shoving his gun against her head.
"everyone freeze!" he shouted.
slowly, the three remaining team members dropped their weapons, their eyes lit with panic.
jaide smiled as if she'd known the entire time that this was the plan.
"what do you want?" katya hissed out.
"why don't we play a game? it's a real simple one. i'll think of a number from one to ten. the first person to guess that number... gets to save their little friend here." jaide sneered.
bree was crying quietly, frozen up in panic as the cold metal of the gun dug into her head. she had never felt weaker than she did right now.
"six." phoebe called out confidently, before song or katya could even open their mouths.
jaide blinked with surprise. "well done... how did you know?"
"it's the amount of fights we've had so far." phoebe said.
"phoebe- don't you dare! there has to be another way." song burst out angrily.
"alas, the only thing i will accept in exchange for bryony's life is that medic of yours." jaide smirked.
"take me instead." katya's voice was low and cold.
"didn't you hear the rules of the game? phoebe's the only thing i'll accept."
"you'll just kill her anyways!" song yelled out furiously.
"no, we won't. she will be returned to you... in due time." jaide promised.
"phoebe... don't do it..." bree protested, then cried out as the gun was slammed into her skull with sickening force. the world spun and she fell to her hands and knees.
"stop it! i'll go with you." bryony heard phoebe say through her haze of pain. she gritted her teeth, trying not to throw up.
they had lost.
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Category: Gen
Characters: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Original Characters
Additional Tags: Witcher Monster MAYhem 2024, Whumpay 2024, Were-Creatures, Mad Scientists, strapped to an operating table, used as a lab rat
Words: 1,424; Chapters: 1/1
Geralt happens upon an old acquaintance of his who is doing something he does not like - at all. He does, however, like a lot what comes of this unexpected reunion.
Inspired by the Witcher Monster MAYhem prompt Day 4 "Were-" and the Whumpay prompts #1 "Strapped to an operating table" and #3 "Made into a lab rat"
The creature strapped to the operating table writhes and hisses in agony against its chains as the needle is inserted into its vein and the silvery liquid from the syringe injected into its bloodstream. The chains restraining and holding it in place are made of pure silver and painful enough, but the agony caused by the silver substance now spreading throughout its body with every beat of its racing heart is excruciating. A loud, wailing noise reminding of a baby's scream escapes the tormented being's throat.
Suddenly, the door to the lab is yanked open.
Read on Ao3:
@whumpay day 4: Alt Prompt: Trapped Under Rubble. Warnings for non-graphic mentions of fighting, buried alive
Happy Star Wars day!
~
Training for the arena was almost as hard as the mines, but in a different way. Scott soon found that having one of the ruling families as a patron was both a blessing and a curse.
A blessing in that he got bathed every day after training and fed twice a day with decent stew and occasionally a sweet treat. The woman turned out to be one of several princesses and frequently sat in the seats above the arena to watch him.
The curse was…everyone else. From day one the other slaves, seeing the royal colours he was dressed in, made it their mission to make his life hell – both in and out of the arena. Scott soon learnt to watch his back constantly.
The next weeks passed quickly.
it had been eight months.
eight months since katya had been taken. with no proof that she was alive, they had begun to think she was dead.
until today.
until the knock at the door, that when phoebe opened it apprehensively, revealed her.
katya was just standing there, her face colder and harder than phoebe had ever seen it before, seemingly unharmed, but her entire demeanor altogether different than it had been.
phoebe couldn't form words. and when katya pulled out a gun, and pointed it straight at her head, she was too stunned to react in time.
but katya hesitated, just long enough for bryony to grab the gun from her, and for song to tackle her to the ground.
"what the fuck do you think you're doing?" song shouted as katya kicked and tried to escape, but despite katya's strength and size, she seemed malnourished and weaker than she had been. she was no match for song anymore.
phoebe just stood there, her hands shaking as she watched the duo subdue her friend. katya didn't speak, but hate glowed in her eyes like a poison.
what had they done to her?
She ran through the dark forest, brushing past low leaves, stumbling on overgrown roots, and scratching herself on branches. Whumpee’s legs burned, she had been running for so long already. But she needed to. She didn’t want to be caught by that woman.
There was a crack behind her, and less than a second later a dart notched itself into a tree a few inches from Whumpee. She gasped and picked up speed despite the constriction in her lungs.
Just some more and then she would find a road and some help. Just some more. Just keep going. Don’t think about the pain in her calves. Don’t think about how it's getting so much harder to inhale. Don’t think about the laughing and calls from behind her.
Just keep going.
Too focussed on her goal, Whumpee didn’t notice the large rock in her way until too late. Her foot catches on the boulder, and she face plants. She hears a sickening crack and wails. There is a whoop that is slowly getting louder, and Whumpee hastens to pick herself up. She can’t afford the lost distance.
Pushing past the sharp pain in her nose, Whumpee keeps going.
However, the fall has cost her not only more bruises, but also her momentum. Her breathing is now restricted to her mouth and she tries to keep the blood from her newly broken nose out, but it all interferes with her path. She struggles to get to the same speed she did before, staggering at half the pace.
The darts that easily missed her before are getting closer and closer, along with the jeering. Whumpee begins to lose hope. Despite the aching she claws her way through the growth, but it all stops at once.
There is an agonizing prick in her neck, and all her limbs instantaneously seize up. She drops to the floor like a stone in a lake.
Whumpee tries moving anything, but finds it futile. Nothing works, not her ankles, not her tongue, not her eyelids. She can’t keep going anymore.
She is forced still as her hunter catches up. The high pitched laugh is unbearable.
“My, my. Looks like I caught me a cute one.”
This is me attempting some Whumpay prompts. I took the first four days and mashed them.
If you're reading the Murdoch Mysteries Portia AU, spoilers for what I have planned for last act of the first story
katya couldn't move. her eyes flitted across the ceiling, waiting for something- anything- to happen. the last thing she remembered... pain. and now, she could barely feel her limbs, let alone any painful sensations.
"hello, miss malinov."
she couldn't see who was speaking, since they didn't come into her field of view. and then, she couldn't see at all, as dark, thick glasses were placed over her eyes and fitted around her head with a strap.
"this virtual reality headset will track your eye movements. if you make the right choices, i will grant you certain privileges. if you choose wrong, you will be punished accordingly."
a terrible vision came to life in front of her eyes. xiaoyan was tied to a chair, her head lolled forwards with two black eyes, bruises and wounds littering her body. a gun was pointed towards her... held by hands that resembled katya's own.
"you need to kill her, my dear. put her out of her misery. if you blink twice in succession, you will end her life."
no, no. she couldn't. katya's thoughts were sluggish, and she didn't know what was real. but she knew she couldn't kill her friend.
"they've abandoned you, you know. they're not looking for you. go ahead. kill her. she left you for dead."
that couldn't be true, katya refused to believe that.
"you have five seconds to make your decision."
katya already knew her decision. she refused to kill xiaoyan, or anyone who didn't deserve it.
"tsk, tsk. perhaps next time, you'll make the right choice."
a horrible shock went through her, her body trembling and shuddering, her back arching from the intense tearing pain all throughout her body. she couldn't even cry out.
"now, let's try again. i'll give you one minute to reach your decision. i can do this all day, miss malinov... can you?"
When the two telephone calls came, one after another with a twelve second pause in between them, Solo shrugged into his coat. Then sat back down in the armchair and looked up to the clock. Three o’clock. He would have to wait until nightfall, roughly three more hours.
Coat on, knee bouncing, and barely reading his paperback book, Solo waited the three requisite hours.
When the distant cathedral bell began to ring out six o’clock, Solo was out of his chair at the first toll, and out of the front door by the third toll.
When he stepped out into the chilly night air he forced himself to slow down, lit a cigarette, and begin a slow and circuitous route towards the dead drop.
Finally, he wandered into the abandoned brickyard. The city was quiet around him.
Ears pricked, Solo flicked his cigarette away, and crouched by a low, crumbling wall. He pulled out the specific brick. It grated pleasantly against its brothers. Solo retrieved the small package from the hollow and replaced the brick.
It was done. He straightened up.
Then, the world exploded.
