Call me Inky. Mid 20's female. Writer of whump. Field surgery. Stitches. Painful healing magic. Injury care without painkillers. Restraints. Silvas Chronicles Masterlist || 29 Days of Whump Masterlist || Layla Masterlist
Whumper giving Whimper a flogging with a cat-o'-nine-tails. Whumpee lays on the floor, gasping for breath as their ragged back seeps blood onto the floor. Whumper tosses them a rag. Thinking it is for them, Whumpee starts to dab the blood off of themselves, only to hear the dreaded *swish* as the flogger tears the rag from their hand.
"It isn't for you. Clean up the floor."
Whumpee spends the next hour or so on their hands and knees, wiping up every drop of blood. Miss a spot? *Swish* Drip some blood on the floor? *Swish swish* Slowing down because Whumpee feels like they may pass out from blood loss? *Swish swish swish*
[Image, Whumpee lying in a puddle of their own blood, face up on the floor, eyes glassed over as their consciousness finally fades. The last thing they see is the flogger comming back down for one final blow, but they don't even blink. They have nothing left, yet Whumper demands more.]
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Welcome to Whumptober 2022, in its fifth year of running!
To those of you who participated last year, welcome back! To everyone new, WELCOME!
Please make sure to read the Event Info carefully, as most of your questions will be answered there already. For everything else, you are welcome to come to our ask box or ask questions in our Discord server here.
This year’s AO3 Collection can be found here.
With that being said, we’re very excited to see the community come together once more and be a wild, chaotic bunch of creators and consumers of whump. Go wild with the prompts, and support your fellow creators, see what juicy whump they’ve created too! We wish you all the fun!
(All 31 Themes + Prompts, Event Information and FAQs are posted below the cut!)
To Tired Writers. To the people out there whose hearts very, very much want to write and work on WIPs, but who are just mentally and physically exhausted right now. It’s okay. It is okay to rest sometimes. Allow yourself time to rest.
Something along the lines of horseback archery. Or maybe jousting. Axe-throwing and knife throwing. Being able to run an American Ninja Warrior course 😍 Oh and to be able to draw as well as I do in my head. And why not dance while we're at it (although I am starting to learn ballet)
I know we love unconscious whumpees. How about nearly unconscious whumpees?
Caretaker is trying to carry Whumpee to safety but Whumpee is kind of delirious and the little consciousness they do have is absolutely fixated on one thing, e.g. the wellbeing of a fellow whumpee. Bonus points if it’s something less consequential, like fretting about the blood they’re getting on Caretaker’s clothing. Extra bonus points if their mumblings show a complete lack of understanding of the situation, such as pleading for Whumper not to hurt them or asking when Caretaker’s getting here.
Whumpee’s eyes are open and Caretaker thinks they’re more alert than they are. It’s only when Caretaker tries to get them to sit up and has to support their limp head and neck that they see their glazed expression.
Whumpee drifting in and out of consciousness without realising it, so what may seem to be a coherent conversation to them is strung out over full minutes or even hours for Caretaker.
Whumpee drifting in and out of consciousness, realising it, and panicking as much as they are mentally capable of doing at that moment. Caretaker has to soothe them and let them know it’s all right, they’re in safe hands and Caretaker won’t let anything happen to them.
Caretaker carrying Whumpee over their shoulder and having to set them down on a bed or a table. Whumpee’s limbs ragdolling as Whumpee mumbles weak apologies.
Whumpee lying in a bed and seemingly unconscious, but Caretaker knows they still have some alertness because they squeeze Caretaker’s hand really tightly.
Whumpee wishing they could pass out completely because the pain is too much for them.
And two more (reference to noncon drugging and nonsexual noncon touching):
Whumper has drugged Whumpee into a hazy state. When Whumpee gets rescued, they’re terrified Caretaker thinks they’re drunk or deliberately intoxicated.
Creepy Whumper doing something intimate like stroking Whumpee’s hair. Whumpee is either frightened but unable to pull themselves away, or not conscious enough to really be scared or know who’s touching them.
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Hey, can y’all rb this if it’s okay to send you messages asking about your ocs, cause on god I wanna interact with y’all but I am terrified of being annoying lol
Little thing I wrote spur of the moment cuz someone on Discord mentioned tentacles.
Explicit. 18+ only.
Tw: explicit, tentacles
You are alone in a dark room on a soft bed. You lay and stare into the dark. Then you feel it. The first tentacle around your wrist. You only have a second to think before another one is wrapping around your other wrist. Then your waist, pulling you firmly into the bed.
Your breathing hitches as tentacles ever so slowly push your shirt up, starting to play with your nipples. So cold and so flexible. You exhale shakily as your nipples harden and you feel your own arousal rise.
The beast finally looms up from under the bed, but all you can see is it's eyes, glowing a soft green in the dark.
"You're mine, pet,"
It growl-purrs in a voice that shakes the room as the air rumbles. You can only nod, helpless as more tentacles reach up under your pants, up your calves, your thighs, finally coming to your underwear. You shudder as you feel the cool tentacles play with you through your undies. You whine and writhe, but there is no escape.
Once the beast is sure you are ready, the tentacles reach out from under the waistband of your pants and slowly tug them down. Once those are out of the way, the tentacles settle around your underwear.
"All mine,"
It growls and pulls off your underwear. You moan as it fills your up. So cool and self-lubing. You feel full as it starts to fuck you, slow at first, then faster and faster. It's other tentacles keep playing with you - your nipples, in between your legs. The tentacles are everywhere as you scream and cum in a moment of bliss.
You got some of mine right ! I won't tell what, because I don't to spoil others yet. Ok so now, my turn ! Age : 23/24 || Pronouns : She/her || Gender : female || Zodiac sign : I'm bad at astrology so I'll take a guess and say Scorpio || Romantic status : you might have a special someone || Eye color : blue || Hobbies : writing and whumping, otherwise i'd say something more manual, maybe sewing ? || Introverted || Favourite season : winter
Thanks @whump-side !
Age... 27
Pronouns/Gender: cis female. She/her
Zodiac: Sagittarius
Romantic status: single
Eye color: classified as gray, which is this lovely mixture of blue and green that I love. The color changes depending on my mood and what I'm wearing. I love my eye color.
Hobbies: a bit of writing, yes. A lot of whumping 😈 I actually do sew! I make my cosplays for comicon. I also do draw a bit.
Falling through the ice
Cold shocks me like electricity
I feel everything at once
Freezing water all around me,
Ice above me,
Blocking my escape
Cold encases my fingertips,
Claims my toes,
My feet follow fast,
Settling under a blanket of cold.
My lungs burn for air,
My arms scramble for freedom from my prison of ice
Something is grabbing me I think?
I can’t feel my arms anymore.
Something smacks me hard and I cough out water.
“Breathe! Breathe!” a voice is saying,
But I can barely obey.
I can only shake violently.
They are asking me questions,
But the words don’t seem to make sense.
Voices sound worried,
Wet clothes are exchanged for dry,
But I barely feel it.
Breathing is shallow and rapid,
Everything is cold as I am moved,
Wrapped like a cocoon
I blink slowly,
Sleep sounds nice…
“No! Stay awake!” the voices shout,
They sound urgent.
But the call of the cold is a howling storm.
How long until I answer it?
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Eating is hard when you’ve burned your hands, Rose thought ruefully as she struggled to hold her spoon. She glanced around, hoping no one had noticed. It had been a long day of training and everyone was tired, maybe no one would see her struggle.
She had only joined a few months ago and was eager to make a good impression - all the other fighters were far more experienced. Every slip, every mistake, she felt everyone’s eyes on her.
Don’t be the weak link, she told herself as she trained hard to get better. And today had been pretty good, until it had been time to clean her rifle. She had put her hand on the hot barrel of the gun. She grimaced as she remembered the pain, how she had bit back a yelp and tried not to cry.
Hopefully it’ll be better by morning… she thought as she winced when the spoon hit a tender spot. A hand on her shoulder interrupted her thoughts.
“Private Rose, the commander wants to see you. Come with me.”
She stood immediately and followed Derrick. Great, what now? she thought as she followed him. Was the commander going to tell her she wasn’t good enough? She knew the commander was tough, but this seemed a little much… She was so busy in her thoughts she didn’t notice Derreck wasn’t leading her to the commander’s office, but to a quiet hallway.
He halted in front of her and so did she.
“Sir…?” She didn’t like the looks of this…
Derrick put his hands up in a calming gesture.
“I apologize for deceiving you, but will you let me see your hand?”
She froze. Had he noticed? She tried to recover.
“Sir, there is nothing wrong. I am fine.”
Derrick just raised an eyebrow, waiting.
A long moment passed. Finally, she relented and held out her hand. A red burn covered most of her palm, with a few blisters forming. He held the injured hand tenderly and produced a tube of burn cream from his pocket. With feather light touch, he dabbed the burn, soothing it.
“Why did you try to hide it?” He asked, not looking into her eyes as he wrapped the hand.
“Because…” she faltered. How could she explain her feelings of inadequacy to him? How could she explain how small and inexperienced she felt at camp every day? How she was always afraid that every mistake would be the one that got her cut from the team.
“Rose,” his hand was under her chin, gently lifting it. Her brown eyes met his green ones.
“You don’t have to hide injury to be strong. You already are. I’ve seen you. Every day, you fight the fear that lives in you and you get up time and time again.”
He finished bandaging the hand and gently lowered it.
“If it still looks bad tomorrow, we’ll go to the infirmary. ‘K?”
Rose could only nod as he turned to go, leaving her with her now-bandaged hand and a slight smile on her face.
This one is a bit heavy. Viewer discretion is advised.
I lay my head down on the pillow,
Closing my eye at last.
All day long I make men and women live their worst nightmares.
But now I begin mine.
All I see is her.
I see her sunny smile,
Her long, blonde hair,
I hear her laughter.
And know I never will hear it again.
“No, no, don’t leave me…”
But she is gone.
Never to be held in my arms again.
I see her hospital bed,
Hear the beeping of monitors,
The machines keeping her alive, but barely.
My tears paint the white sheets,
But my weeping is heard by no one.
Two years, she has stayed this way.
“It’s time to let go,” They say,
But how can I?
I love her
She is the only light I have left in this world.
I hold her hand and weep in silence
I cradle her in my arms as the machine powers down.
I feel her heart stop,
And so does mine.
I awake in the morning,
But I am dead inside.
There is no light in my eye.
Only pain
And nightmares.
So this is part 12 of Silvas Chronicles, it is also Day 4 of Febuwhump - Nightmare. Hope you enjoy!
TW: bleeding out, death of loved ones, self harm
~~~~~~
Eli sat up in his bed. Why was he in the healer’s quarters? He didn’t remember being sick or injured. He glanced over to see Maximus sleeping nearby. He climbed out of bed and shook Maximus gently, trying to wake him.
Maximus fell over when touched. Eli jumped back when he saw the dagger sticking out of the large man’s ribs. Blood pooled on the floor, coming to touch his bare feet.
No, no no no no no! He shut his eyes tight. Not real, not real, not real. Just a nightmare.
He cautiously opened his eyes again and found himself back in bed, Maximus back by the bedside, sleeping peacefully.
Eli breathed a sigh of relief.
See, just a nightmare. But the question remains - why am I in the healer’s quarters?
He swung his legs out of bed.
Splat
He had stepped in a puddle of blood.
Slowly, he looked up in horror to see Maximus’ body giving up it’s lifeblood. His arteries had been cut and twin rivers of blood flowed from his neck, down his shirt, onto his lap, and dripping onto the floor.
Eli rushed to Maximus.
“Maximus! No! Wake up!”
Eli staggered back when there was no response. He stared in unadulterated horror at the corpse of his dead friend, and at his own hands that were now painted scarlet.
“This…this can’t be happening!”
“What can’t be happening?”
Luka stood framed in the doorway. Eli practically tackled him.
“Luka! I woke up here and suddenly Maximus is dead and I don’t know what happened and I don’t know what to do...” he was babbling almost incoherently but Luka shushed him.
“Eli, what are you talking about? Maximus is fine. He’s just sleeping.”
“But he-”
Maybe it was just another nightmare...Luka wouldn’t lie to me…
Slowly, he turned around. The same nightmare scene as before greeted him. Eli shreiked.
“Luka! Can’t you see-!” he whipped around, but then froze. Luka was shaking and starting to convulse. His skin was pale and his eyes wouldn’t focus.
“Luka? Luka! What do I do??”
But the healer couldn’t answer him. He collapsed to the floor and convulsed as foam began to emit from his mouth. There was a final burst of energy in his movements and then all was still.
Eli stood in shocked silence for a moment, then began to cry. Silent tears at first, then sobs, and then wails.
“Eli.”
A hand was on his shoulder. Kingsley stood beside him. Her hair in a braid and her expression a rare one of concern.
“Kingsley! I-”
She collapsed as if she were no more than a puppet with its strings cut.
As her corpse hit the floor, something in Eli snapped and he screamed.
“No! No! No! No! Make it stop! Make it stop!”
He pinched himself, closed his eyes, even tried giving himself cuts with Luka’s scalpel, but the nightmare was here to stay. Except it was reality.
…
Maximus struggled to hold Eli down in his bed in the healer’s quarters.
“Eli!” He spoke with a voice of authority, “Wake up! It’s just a nightmare! You’re opening your stitches!”
His words fell on deaf ears as Eli thrashed and cried.
Maximus had tried waking the boy up, tried giving him more of the herbal mixture Luka had made earlier, but nothing worked.
Luka, where are you? Eli needs you. At this rate...he doesn’t have long.
Laurence groaned and pressed his hands into his side. Crimson blood painted his hands and stained them like horrible ink.
I wonder if it’ll ever wash out? he thought vaguely as he slumped on his horse. He had gotten away, yes, but that bullet inside of him made quite the wound. But there was no time to stop. He had to get back to town, to warn the people that they were coming.
A wave of nausea hit him and his vision blurred. He fought to stay upright in the saddle, grateful that his horse knew the way. He dared to glance down at the wound. One hand was pressed on top of the other in a futile attempt to stem the stream of red that flowed from him. It soaked his shirt and was seeping onto his chaps and pants as well. He tore his eyes away and gritted his teeth as he urged his horse faster.
He knew he was fading. Would he make it? Or would it be only his horse and his corpse to tell the tale?
Wanna be tagged for more Febuwhump? Jump in on the fun!
TW: death of a loved one
Laurence’s breath caught.
No, no, no, not like this
About fifty feet down the cliff, Kimberly lay crumpled. She lay at the root of a great tree just above the rushing river.
Laurence cupped his hands to his mouth to shout as the rain poured and the wind howled.
“Kimberly! Can you hear me?”
No response. Either he was too far away, or the river and storm were too loud, or…
Sliding, scraping, and stumbling down the cliff with reckless abandon he tore towards her. He was about ten feet away when she started to stir.
Oh thank goodness she’s not dead, he breathed. But it was short lived. The tree she had been laying against began to groan in the wind. He saw her hands trying to find purchase on something solid but she came up empty as she slipped.
“No!” he screeched at the top of his lungs, lunging for her as he crossed the last few feet. His hand caught hers as lightning split the sky.
Time froze as his cold, wet hand gripped hers. Her hair blew in the wind as her eyes met his.
This is the end. her eyes said.
No! Please!
I’m sorry, Laurence. her eyes closed in submission as the sky darkened without the lightning. The next flash showed a man crumpled on the side of a cliff, howling in agony as the body of his love was swept away.
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It has been a minute, I know. This also does include Febuwhump 2022 Day 1: Head Injury. Hope you enjoy! :D
~~~~~~~~~~~~
You are sure of this?”
Kingsley’s elbows rested on her desk, her hands interlaced in front of her.
“The more I think about it, and the more I observe Eli’s symptoms, the more certain I am.”
As Luka stood before Kingsley’s desk, he couldn’t help but fidget under her cold gaze. Impossible to tell what she’s thinking, even though she’s my sister, he thought.
“Very well, I trust you. Do what you must to discover it’s source.”
Luka nodded and excused himself, limping a little. He shut the door behind him with a click, sighing. Discover the source, eh? Easier said than done. From what Cayden had told him, Eli was acting strangely when he returned from his patrol. No one noticed anything unusual when he left, meaning that _if he was poisoned, it happened while he was on his patrol._ That would mean re-tracing Eli’s path, but he might not even have stayed on the path. Cayden reported that Eli did not return on the expected path. Luka groaned That means combing a good portion of the Silver Forest, just to look for something that might not even be there.
A few minutes later, Maxiumus turned a corner to find Luka gearing up.
“What are you doing?”
Luke paused, a guilty look on his face like a child caught with contraband sweets in hand. He recomposed himself and stood upright.
“I have business to attend to.”
The burly man raised an eyebrow as he folded his arms. Luka didn’t budge. The two conversed silently for a moment, then Maximus finally sighed and stepped aside. Just as Luka passed over the threshold, he felt a hand on his shoulder.
He looked up to meet Maximus’ brown eyes.
Be careful, the eyes said.
I will he silently promised back. And he was gone.
Going was hard. The birds overhead, the insects humming in the air, the wind in the trees, all once familiar and comforting, now felt watchful and intense. The rain had finally stopped, but navigating the forest floor with a bad ankle was no easy task. He started by taking the usual path, looking for any signs of where Eli might have deviated. Every time he thought he found one, he turned up nothing.
If he was poisoned, he had to have touched some plant. But which one? His symptoms point to multiple possibilities, yet I’m fairly certain he only came in contact with one poisonous plant.
Twenty minutes passed. Nothing.
Keep looking, Luka. You can do this.
Twenty more minutes. Still nothing out of the ordinary. He was about halfway through the patrol path.
It’s okay, you still have the rest of the patrol path. I’m sure something will turn up.
He grimaced as his leg protested with each step.
I’m fortunate that I didn’t break my ankle in that snare trap, he thought as he limped along.
Forty five minutes later, he had reached the end of the patrol path. He was out of breath, sore, exhausted, and sweaty. He grumbled to himself briefly before trudging back up the path.
You must’ve missed something. Just look for smaller signs. You’ll find it. Even if you have to comb the whole forest. He groaned at the thought. …I certainly hope it won’t come to that…
Another sixty minutes passed and Luka still had no luck.
I give up! Luka growled to himself through clenched teeth. If there was something to find, I would have found it by now! I’ve searched every tree, stump, shrub, but they are all plants I recognize! And none of them would explain Eli’s symptoms!
Then it hit him. Quite literally.
Something or someone unseen rushed Luka from behind and with a smack he crumbled to the ground, unconscious.
in america at least, in this situation, there isnt one. either your loved ones or the firemen can get you out using the emergency fire escapes or stairs, or you die
last summer my friend who is an amazingly talented artist and i were in this super tall building, and she’s in a wheelchair and i’m pushing her around the room. it’s an art exhibit and some of her art was chosen to be showcased there and so it’s all fine and dandy until suddenly an alarm starts going off
a FIRE ALARM
everyone starts running for the stairs and my friend just looks at me with this forlorn look on her face
“i can’t go down the stairs”
but i’m a stubborn bitch “i’ll carry you”
“what about my chair? it’s too expensive for me to be able to get another one if i can’t get this one back”
“i’ll carry that too”
and i did. we went to the stairs (by then most people from our floor were gone) and i lifted her up in a fireman’s carry over my shoulder and then lifted her chair up and used the ridiculous amount of adrenaline that was coursing through my veins to make it down approximately 20 half-flights of stairs until we met some people exiting lower floors, one of which who kindly took the chair. I changed positions so i was holding my friend bridal-style which was, somehow, easier and the person who took her wheelchair (with her permission to handle it of course) accompanied me to the ground floor and then out the doors
basically there is no real protocol for people who can’t use the stairs in an emergency. it’s up to the people with them, if anyone, to help them or the person to somehow make it down the stairs alone, unassisted
thank fuck that it was just a faulty alarm system, because if i was unable to carry her down those stairs and the building was on fucking fire???? then i don’t know what would have happened to her, but i don’t think it would have been very good.
it’s fucking ridiculous and ableist to the absolute max.
I use a cane. When I did a day-long fire safety training at my northeast American university (UMass Amherst), I asked that exact same question: “what am I supposed to do if the fire alarm goes off and I’m in my lab on the twelfth floor?”
the fire marshal hemmed and hawed for a while and then said to take the elevator- you’re supposed to leave it free for the fire department to use and they want able-bodied people out fast not waiting for elevators. if the fire alarm has just gone off the building probably hasn’t suffered enough structural damage to make using the elevator dangerous, and modern elevator wells are heavily reinforced. many large and high-trafficked buildings on my campus have fire rated elevators that link in with the fire alarm system so they won’t let you off on a floor with a possible fire.
if the elevator isn’t working, wait in the stairwell and call the fire department to let them know where you are. modern stairwells are also heavily reinforced- it might not be pleasant but modern building code usually requires fire-resistant stairwell doors in office and big residential buildings, also to help firefighters get in and out safely. older buildings’ stairwells may or may not be retrofitted with fire-resistant doors but a stairwell is generally the safest place to wait if you can’t get out.
what happened to your friend was horrible, and i’m very glad you were there to help her out, but you can absolutely use the elevator to evacuate if it’s not shut down. those don’t-use-the-elevator rules are for abled people.
Okay, firefighter here. If you are not physically able to use the stairs, and the elevator is NOT compromised, use the elevator. But you MUST be ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN that the elevator is NOT compromised before you get into it, because there is always the chance that once you get into it, you may not exit it. Power could go out. The elevator may actually BE compromised and you just couldn’t tell from where you were until you were in there, and it suddenly shuts down on you. Something else could happen.
Understand that once you enter the elevator, you could POTENTIALLY be taking your life into your hands there.
It is NOT LIKELY, to be perfectly honest. It’s only in a pretty catastrophic scenario - think the Twin Towers, USA, on September 11th - that the elevators will be compromised and out of service. But there is a NOT ZERO PERCENT CHANCE and you need to understand that and accept it.
As for leaving the elevators free for the firefighters, okay, here’s the deal. Unless your nearest fire station is literally right next door? Your first on scene fire truck is NOT likely to be there on scene and needing that elevator before you get to the ground. It takes us TIME to find the address, gear up, and drive to the building. Then we need to hoof it into where the elevators even ARE, so YOU HAVE TIME to use the elevator to get down to the ground floor... BUT ONLY IF THERE’S NOT A RUSH ON THE ELEVATOR! And THAT is WHY we don’t tell people this shit. That’s WHY we tell people to NEVER USE THE ELEVATOR... because every self-entitled asshole will use it because they don’t feel like walking, and then put YOU in danger by delaying the elevator’s arrival to you.
IF, however, the elevator IS compromised, or you just can’t get it to come for you, or whatever, and you either don’t have anyone with you who has the adrenaline fueled BALLS to be able to toss you over their shoulder and hoof it down the stairs with you - because, let’s face it, that is RARE AS FUCK, then HERE IS WHAT YOU DO:
You call 911 and tell the call taker that you are in the building that has a fire alarm going off, and you are not able to evacuate because of a physical disability, and you tell them what floor you are on, and EXACTLY what stairwell you are waiting at. And the very FIRST thing that the firefighters are going to do once they arrive, if it is, indeed, a REAL emergency, and not a false alarm, is come get your ass and bring you down. Whether that means carrying you down the stairs, or whether that means locking out the elevators so that no one else can override them and coming to get you themselves, they WILL come get you FIRST THING if it is a real event. And if it is a false alarm? You will probably be the first person who is not involved with the building to know, because the call-taker is going to stay on the line with you until you are under someone’s care and out of danger, or until the scene has been sorted out as real or false, and you are out of danger that way.
These are pretty standard operations in the fire service throughout the United States. There may be some minor variations based on specific municipalities, but, for the most part, this is pretty typical: LIFE BEFORE PROPERTY. So, as long as SOMEONE knows where you are - hence why you call 911 - Firefighters will come get you. You are NOT alone, and you have NOT been abandoned. I PROMISE. It’s like, our whole reason for doing the shit we do: to save lives and to break shit. Sometimes, we get lucky enough to do both at the same time.
High rise fires suck ass, and I always hated them. But the very FIRST thing I asked anytime we got one was if we had “any entrapments” - which is what we call anyone who could not self-evacuate for ANY reason. We ain’t leaving you behind. And yes, your friend who doesn’t have the stamina to carry you down can stay with you, too. Because I would never ask that of someone, honestly.
Also, just a little FYI... MOST fire alarms are false alarms. Not to make anyone complacent or anything, but, yeah. Most of them are either system malfunctions, someone accidentally hit a pull station, or someone burned popcorn in a break room. So don’t let a fire alarm freak you out until you need it to - by smelling or seeing smoke or flames.