Sticks-and-stones-are-great - Sticks And Stones Are Great

What you did and where you’re coming from I don’t care, as long as you love me, baby. - for @glycerineclown​

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Merry Whump of May

Spring 2023 Prompt List!

It's May, everyone!! Due to personal and technical difficulties, we're getting the list to you DAY ONE. WOW!

So sorry for the delay, but we have every confidence that despite this short notice, you'll all be able to put out some amazing work this year!

Without further ado, welcome to The Merry Whump of May!

Text ID:

Merry Whump of May

Spring 2023

A month-long whump writing event by @wormwriting and @painsandconfusion.

Extemporaneous style this year-!!

Write, draw, or otherwise create content based on the daily prompts! Participants and completionists will receive badges of honor for their work at the end of the month.

Create original content or fanfiction, all is welcome!

Rules

Tag each day's post with #themerrywhumpofmay, any necessary content warning (eg: #knife), and the day in the following format: #mwmday1)

Adult topics are allowed, but must be well tagged. Send a message to @themerrywhumpofmay if you'd like a second opinion.

Be kind, have fun!

Prompts:

Day One - “No pain, no gain.”

Compass

Haphephobia

Kitchen

Day Two - “Need a ride?

Wrench          

Paranoia         

Club   

Day Three - “You're not looking so hot.”

Lightbulb

Tension

Alleyway

Day Four - “Two birds, one bullet.”

Chess Pieces

Stubborn

Tower 

Day Five - “Do unto others as you would bla bla bla...”

Bow and Arrow

Stalking

Cavern

Day Six - “It's a long story.”

Knife Handle

Gagged

Under the table

Day Seven - “Write what you know.”

Box

Magic

Cell

Day Eight - “Did you read the fine print?”

Circle 

Blinded

Field

Day Nine - “We'll burn that bridge when we get there.”

Collar

Lost

Roof

Day Ten - “Hit the hay.”

Key

Forgetting

Warehouse     

Day Eleven - “Ready set go!”

Plastic bag

Overheating

Restaurant

Day Twelve - “Tabled for Later.”

Thumbtack

Panic attack

Ballroom        

Day Thirteen - “You've made your bed, now bleed in it.”

Sander

Found

Safe Place

Day Fourteen - “Well, well, well...”

Barbed Wire   

Starvation

Drain

Day Fifteen - “The power of god and anime”

Hammer

Over-Exhaustion

Hammer

Day Sixteen - “Take a break.”

Branding Iron

Moonlight

Cemetery       

Day Seventeen - “Going down in flames.”

Pole

Regret

Fireplace

Day Eighteen - “No use crying over spilled blood.”

Cage

Claustrophobia

Ship

Day Nineteen - “Apples and oranges.”

Chainsaw

Surprise

Home Base

Day Twenty - “A taste of your own medicine.”

Zip ties           

Bleeding out  

Office

Day Twenty-one - “Devil's advocate.”

Tome

Desperation

Hiking trail.

Day Twenty-two - “You can lead a bitch to water, but you can't make them drink.”

Origami

Amnesia

Attic   

Day Twenty-three - “Good things come to those who wait.”

Nine-inch-nails

Isolation

Creepy basement

Day Twenty-four - “Bent out of shape.”

Tent Spike

Dragged

Wrong place, wrong time

Day Twenty-five - “It takes two to tango.”

Hot coffee

Doubt

In line

Day Twenty-six - “Hammer time.”

Pocket watch  

Itchy

Waiting room

Day Twenty-seven - “Second mouse get the cheese.”

Knife

Rug burn

Skyscraper

Day Twenty-eight - “A picture's worth a thousand words.”

Chair

Paranoia

Backseat         

Day Twenty-nine - “Lost and Found

Blowtortch

Frostbite

Lake

Day Thirty - “Rain check.”

High heels

Strained

The backroom

Day Thirty-one - “Thin ice.”

Lighter

Chronic pain

Dead end

Alternative Prompt List

Titles  

“Questions? Comments? Concerns? Complaints?”

“Time dies when you're having fun.”

“A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.”

“Can't make an omelette without breaking a few eggs.”

“Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match.”

Items                                      

Wine Glass

Hydrochloric acid

Magnet

Teacup

Wire

Conditions

Sensory deprivation

Blindfolded

Acrophobia

Failed escape

Distress

Locations

The Middle of Nowhere

Forest

Void

Sidewalk

Shortcut

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Merry Whump of May - Day 2

(Original characters/story)

@themerrywhumpofmay

The blood covering his hands made this impossible. And the broken arm didn’t really help.

Hesperus tried to loosen the wheel on his motorbike once again. But his fingers, slick with rain, and oil and blood, just kept slipping off the wrench.

He sat down hard in a puddle on the pavement, panting. More water soaked into his pants and boots. He curled the arm into his chest and held it there. It didn’t really help with the pain but it made the injury feel more stable. The heavy pack on his back rested on the ground. 

Yeah, he still had to make the delivery.

Guess he was walking the rest of the way.

After a few minutes of panting, eyes closed and teeth gritted, Hesper dragged himself to his feet. Swaying, he edged around the two bodies. Stopped a moment. Eyed the belt one wore.

Minutes later, Hesper peeked out of the alleyway, his left arm now stable with the belt holding it close to his chest. With his other hand, he steered his shattered motorbike.

No one had witnessed the fight. No one would know what he’d done. They’d jumped him. It was their fault. It was their fault they-

“Need a ride?”

Hesper looked up and saw Rafael. He almost started sobbing on the spot. 

Rafael quickly got off his bike. “Hesper?” His hand went towards Hesper’s shoulder. “Are you okay? What happened?”

Hesper glanced back at the entrance to the alley, where the bodies lay hidden. “How did you find me?”

“The wreck alert went off. Biometrics too. I’m on duty tonight. Did you wipe-out?”

Hesper opened his mouth. He wanted to say he’d been attacked. He wanted to say it wasn’t his fault that he’d killed them. He was defending himself. He was defending the delivery on his back.

Hesper swallowed. Blood and dirty rainwater on his tongue. “Y-yeah. Wiped out. Arm’s broken. Bike’s busted.”

Rafel looked over the belt strapping Hesper’s left arm to his chest. Hesper could feel his eyes roving. The other cuts and bruises being taken into account.

Rafael nodded then got back on his motorbike. “Should get you to a doc, I know one in-”

“No, there’s one near here.” Hesper shook his head. 

It wasn’t a memory.

Just a strange feeling. 

He knew that there was a doc around here. A good one. 

Hesper looked up and down the street. No one. Empty.

“I don’t know of one.” Rafael said as Hesper slid gingerly onto the bike behind him. 

“It’s weird.” Hesper murmured. “I think the clinic is in the back of a club. A green door, maybe.”

“You think?” Rafael started the bike. “Did you hit your head?”

“Probably.”

“I’m taking you to my doc, then we’ll finish the delivery together.” Rafael said.

“No!” Hesperus shook his head, making the world swim around him. “No, this one’s in the-...” He searched this feeling. “The Wheel! It’s a block away. The sign, it’s-”

“A neon eight-spoked wheel?” Rafael sighed. “You’re right, that is closer. Okay, let’s see if the doc is in. Hold on tight.”

Hesper wrapped his good arm around Rafael’s waist, blushing. He laid his head against Rafael’s back as they sped off.

---

Dylan O'Brien as Joel Dawson

“Love and Monsters", dir. Michael Matthews

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Whumpay - Day 11

Main Challenge - Ineffective Medical Care - Medical Torture Mini Challenge 11 - Dialogue - “Who did this to you?” Original Work - Ashfirth Farm

Rabbit unwound the handkerchief from his neck and mopped his brow. “Good day, sir. Come to help mend the fence with me?” Rabbit finished his joke with a grin.

Caldwell froze with a smile on his face. His smile disappeared. His mouth opened. All he could do was stare.

Rabbit was quick to notice and his grin faded. “Mr. Caldwell?”

Caldwell’s eyes dropped to the ground and then anywhere but Rabbit. “How did you come by those?”

“What?”

Caldwell reached out slowly with his riding crop and pointed to Rabbit’s neck. “Those.”

Rabbit reached up and put a hand to his neck. As soon as his fingers touched the puckered, rope-like, shiny scars, Caldwell saw Rabbit do something absolutely uncharacteristic.

Rabbit became embarrassed.

His eyes fell to the ground. His fingers fumbled as he tied the handkerchief about his neck again. He picked up his tools and got back to work.

Rabbit’s face was turned away when he tried to sound casual, lighthearted even. “Oh, yes. An accident, long ago. I’m sorry you saw that. It’s quite ugly.”

Caldwell didn’t miss the way Rabbit’s hands shook.

He usually would not pry. But seeing his friend so affected had him curious. Or that was what he decided he felt. He ignored the growing flame of worry and grief; the accident had to have been so awful that the normally unapologetic Rabbit would feel the need to hide it, and lie.

Caldwell got down from his horse. “Mr. Bell, what manner of accident befell you that would give you those scars?”

Rabbit Bell froze while trying to repair the pasture fence. “It’s nothing.”

Caldwell got down on his knees and began to help his tenant with the repairs. “It is not. Your hands are shaking.”

A long moment passed where Rabbit continued to stare down at the grass, tools held tightly within white knuckles, lips pressed hard together. Finally, he thrust the tools into Caldwell’s hands and stood up, laughing a little too bitterly for Caldwell’s liking.

“I told you that studied at the Kings Mages College in London.” Rabbit began, then stopped again.

A full minute passed by Rabbit paced back and forth.

Caldwell forgot the repairs he’d attempted to help with and just watched his tenant. Finally, he prodded Rabbit.

“Yes, you told me that you were a graduate from the college.”

Rabbit nodded and stopped pacing. He took a deep breath and spoke once more. “They perform research on a regular basis on the pupils and fellows of the college. This scarring is from one such research project.”

“What kind of research…” Caldwell trailed off. He couldn’t find the words. In addition to that, he felt like he was going beyond what could be considered polite inquiry. “I apologize.”

Rabbit sighed. He was trailing a finger along the handkerchief that covered the scars. Another moment passed and he took it off again. His shoulders drooped. His face took on a few lines that Caldwell had only seen when Rabbit was properly upset.

Caldwell stayed very still, as though Rabbit might bolt at the slightly movement.

“Because most spells require a vocal component, the research was done on only a few students. Gifted students.” Rabbit chuckled darkly.

“They wanted to understand what part the vocal cords played in spells. So,” And here Rabbit’s pallor became almost green.

“They immobilized the student with a paralytic and exposed the vocal cords surgically. The student was then asked to perform a specific set of spells while the vocal cords were observed. No pain relief was provided.”

Caldwell felt his stomach turn and struggled to keep his breathing under control. After he fully processed what Rabbit had just said, he felt a wave of anger overtake him.

“That’s barbaric.” Caldwell stood up and dropped the tools. He took a step towards Rabbit. “Mr. Bell, I cannot believe that learned men would stoop to such torture.”

Caldwell once again examined the scars. A central line ran down Rabbit’s throat with a few perpendicular scars. A cruel surgery. Was there any purpose to it?

“What were their findings?” He growled. “Other than a new method of torture?”

Rabbit smiled but it did not reach his eyes. “Nothing.”

“Barbaric!” Caldwell fumed. “Utterly barbaric!”

“The fellows at the college would not agree with you.” Rabbit kept the handkerchief off for now. “It was a necessary act of service in order to further the pursuit of mages studies.” Rabbit sounded as though he were reciting something.

“Necessary, my arse!” Caldwell did not agree with it.

Rabbit laughed, a genuine laugh, and set his hand upon Caldwell’s shoulder. “Thank you for your support, Mr. Caldwell.”

“I believe any reasonable man would reject such an act.”

“A reasonable man, yes, but not a scholar.” Rabbit’s small smile revealed that some of his old humor was back. “You are a reasonable and an honorable man, Mr. Caldwell.”

Caldwell felt himself relax a little but a prickling anger still needled him. He wanted to do something for Mr. Bell, something to take the pain of these memories away. He had this itch to give comfort. But how? And why was this feeling so strong? Caldwell’s eyes rested upon Rabbit’s lips.

His cheeks were burning but it was a cool day. “You are too kind, Mr. Bell.”

The tension around Rabbit’s shoulders seemed to disappear and he bent down to the ground to continue his repairs on the fence. “Not at all, sir.” He replied.

Caldwell swallowed hard and got back on his horse, which was grazing nearby. He rode back to the manor in a daze.

---

“Am I supposed to be grateful to have survived this?”

- Brenna Twohy, Forgive Me My Salt

Mediwhump May - Seizure

(Original characters/story)

@mediwhumpmay

“That’s not good.”

“What now?” Caey drawled.

Omen stumbled over the corpse of the large salamander and fell to their knees in the leaf litter and decaying wood. The beast was still twitching, tendrils of cold fog rolling from its open mouth and lolling tongue.

The tiara tied to Omen’s belt vibrated and glistened, speaking directly into Omen’s thoughts. “What did you do now? Do not keep me in suspense.”

Omen drew in a shuddering breath and with trembling, bloody fingers, pulled up their tunic. “Not good.” Their words came thickly, as though it was difficult to speak.

“What?” Caey trembled at Omen’s belt.

“Got bit.” Omen fell onto their side.

“By the salamander?”

Omen’s eyes fluttered closed. “Got bit.” Omen repeated.

“Yes, yes, I know!” Caey actually sounded worried. 

Omen’s fingers clumsily untied Caey from their belt and brought the tiara to their forehead. 

“What are you doing? Shouldn’t you treat your wound?” Caey sputtered as Omen shoved him onto their head. “Omen?!”

Omen’s breaths became wheezing and they struggled to speak. “Venom. You have… to fix me.”

Now that Caey rested upon Omen’s brow, he could sense where their wound lay. It was a throbbing, ragged bite wound upon their left side, still bleeding, and the aforementioned venom was working fast. Too fast.

Omen’s legs began to stiffen and convulse.

“Omen, I don’t have magic. I can’t fix you, you idiot!” Caey shouted into Omen’s thoughts. Caey’s awareness was split between his own knowledge as an object of power, and what Omen could see. Now that they put him on their head, Caey would feel everything Omen felt. See everything they saw.

Omen was fixating on the pale, cloudy sky above, between the brown leaves of late autumn. Caey could feel the pain of tense muscles and the fire in their veins. Did they just want him to suffer alongside them? Why had they put him on?

“Ca-...ey.” Omen hissed through gritted teeth.

“Yes? What should I do? I do not know what you want me to do!” Caey babbled.

Caey could feel Omen’s heart racing.

“When I stop…sh-shaking.” Omen choked. Caey felt something warm, and thick roll from their mouth and dribble down their cheek. “Take control…walk me- to healer…p-please.”

Omen had never put Caey on before. 

Omen wouldn’t. Omen knew Caey’s power of possession. 

Omen trusted him now. 

Caey didn’t know how to feel about this. 

But he knew he would do it. He would save Omen. 

“I will.” Caey said quickly.

Omen’s body became painfully tight and wracked with convulsions. Every limb stretched taut to breaking. Their heart raced. Bloody foam spilled from between gritted teeth. Omen seized and seized for what seemed like hours. Eyes rolled back in their head. Caey could see only darkness. 

Caey, planted firmly on Omen’s sweating brow, rode the waves of pain with his friend. He spoke soothing words into their feverish mind. And as soon as the convulsions died down, Caey took hold of Omen’s body. They were broken and in so much pain. But he ran. Stumbling. Falling. Getting back up. And running. To save Omen’s life. He had to.

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—Why is his pain so slutty?

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Mediwhump May - IV/Cannula

(Original characters/story)

@mediwhumpmay

“How-” Tate cleared his throat, his voice rough with a sore throat. “How far is it now?”

Troy craned his neck to look at the IV bag behind Tate’s bed. “Not even close.”

Tate sighed and closed his eyes. “Sorry. You can go. You don’t have to stay until they discharge me.”

“Shut up.”

“I mean it, I-”

“Kid, I’m staying. Sharon knows where I am. Julia’s in bed. I’ve got nowhere to be.”

Tate sighed. 

Troy added. “I want to be here.”

“Bull.”

The room was quiet but the rest of the hospital outside was loud with beeps and talking and fast-paced steps, despite the fact it was close to midnight.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” Troy asked. 

“Is it close to halfway?”

Troy didn’t bother looking, but kept his eyes on Tate. “Not even close.”

Tate grimaced as he swallowed. “I don’t know. Didn’t think I was that sick.”

“Your blood sugar was low. When did you last eat?”

Tate sighed. “What are you? My dad?”

Troy waited. 

Tate thought back to the past day. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Just half a bagel. He lowered his eyes to his hands in his lap. “I ate breakfast.”

“Jesus, Tate, what the hell? I can’t work with you if you aren’t taking care of yourself.” Troy stood up and ran his hand through his hair. 

Tate touched the spot where the IV entered his arm, wincing. “I had a bad day.”

“All it takes is one bad day!” Troy’s face was red. 

“I’ll do better.” Tears started in Tate’s eyes and he wiped them away. He really didn’t want to cry in front of Troy. Not after all this. Fainting and being taken to the hospital was humiliating enough. 

“I’ll do better.” He repeated.

“I’m sorry.” Troy crouched down by Tate’s bed. “Hey, kid, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled.” 

“You can go.” Tate wiped his eyes one more time. “It’s fine.”

Troy nodded. “I know. But I’m gonna stay.”

“It’s fine.” Tate mouthed, finger tracing the tape that held his IV in place.

“Hey.” Troy nudged Tate’s shoulder.

Tate looked up.

Troy nodded at the IV bag. “It’s almost halfway.”

Tate smiled and swallowed hard.

Troy put the back of his hand to Tate’s forehead. “Fever’s down.”

“Thanks, dad.” Tate rolled his eyes. 

“I’m not old enough to be your dad, kid.”

“Well, you’re acting like one.”

“Can’t help it.”

“Pizza after this?” Tate asked, unsure of Troy’s response. “Oh, hell yeah, I’m starving.” Troy settled back into the angular hospital chair.

Tate smiled and leaned his head back against the bed. “Awesome.”

“You’re paying though.” Troy grunted.

Tate grinned.

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