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Since today is my birthday, have a part 2. Should I extend this story even more?

Lonely II

Part 1

Whumpee stood in front of the trash can, hand in front of them, eyes swollen and heavy from all the tears they'd shed. They put their foot on the lever. The trash can lid swung open. There wasn’t much left in the kitchen waste, other than the leftovers of food that Whumpee had promised themselves they would eat, but they always left them in the fridge until they went bad. Without realizing it, they used that as an excuse. But they didn’t miss the effect that meals could have on their body. At least, not when they could fool themselves. They clenched their fist, crumpling the cupcake wrapper in their hand. The vanilla sugar frosting should have been digesting and dissolving in their stomach acid right now. Whumpee shouldn’t have eaten that. Not because of the calories, but because of the meaning. Treating themselves to a sweet treat was as childish as getting a lollipop after a vaccination.

They threw the crumpled paper in the trash and left the kitchen, walking wearily to the hallway. They leaned their hands on the wall as encouragement and entered the bathroom. They collapsed on the sink. There, indeed, they could cry as if in a place suited for regret. Where people regretted their mistakes, but had no remorse. Whumpee turned on the faucet, filled their hands with water and washed their face. Maybe, if the tears mixed with the cold water, they would no longer notice them. They left the room without drying their face. Contrary to what they had hoped, the attempt did not help their feelings. They staggered to the bed and sat down. Oh, what a beautiful day it could be. There were so many bad memories of past birthdays, and reality checks that everyone deserved to hear. That was not a special day. It was not a privilege, a commemorative date. It was the reaffirmation of the day when yet another burden had been placed on the world. On a family, on dozens of people.

Whumpee was about to get up when they felt a vibration behind them. Their cell phone rang briefly with a notification. Whumpee reached out to pick it up. They ran their hand over their teary eyes as the light from the device's screen irritated their sensitive lenses. Reading the message on the notification bar, Whumpee let a cold smile grace their face.

The digital bank app announced: "Happy birthday! We have some news for you. Come check it out!"

At least something, even if artificial, had remembered it.

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You're a 'chimerical being,' meaning imagined objects can interact with you physically. Pros: You can eat imaginary food and get the full benefits of eating real food. Cons: finger guns hurt like hell, and anyone can put you in an invisible box easily. And children… don't get me started.

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A supervillain unleashes a disease on the world in order to weaken his enemies and monopolize the cure. But his team of goons didn't test it on women. The unaffected female hero(es) confront him and the fight devolves into a conversation about lack of female representation in medical testing.

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Romantic and Hopeless (1/?)

First / Previous / Next

Based on @tinyundercover's soulmate AU mechanics! Kind of heavy... I want to continue it though! To have Oscar and Sammy meet at least. Enjoy ^^

---

“Hello?”

Sammy's breathing hitched as she heard the voice suddenly echo in her head, her attempt at sleeping being ruined immediately. She managed to avoid jolting from surprise, and glanced down at Tanner's sleeping form to ensure he wasn't stirring. The boy continued to snore softly curled into her body heat.

“Hello? Are you there? Oh, um… put your hands together to respond! Like praying. And then just think. I know some people don't really know about soulmates.”

It sounded like a boy around her own age, and he was very excited. Sammy hesitantly shifted her hands away from where she had been cradling Tanner, and interlocked her fingers. She tilted her head, brows furrowed. Soulmate? I think I remember something about that...

“Hi?” Her mental voice was confused and unsure.

“Oh my gosh. Hey! You have no idea how much I've been looking forward to meeting my soulmate..! Let me know if I'm being too much, okay? Hm… what are you up to right now? Am I interrupting anything?”

Sammy glanced out of the glass enclosure she and her brother were being contained in, barely able to see anything as the only things illuminating the room were a few alarms and other random lights. Ryker had left the lab at the same time as usual, so they were trying to sleep as much as possible until he was back.

“I'm trying to sleep.” She responded simply. There was very little point in communicating with her soulmate considering the situation Sammy was in, but she had to admit that it was nice to hear a new voice. A friendly voice.

“Oh. Just going to bed early, or are you in a different time zone?” The voice replied and Sammy blinked with confusion.

“Time zone?”

“Yeah! It's like um… uh… wow. I guess I don't know what a time zone is. Here— What time is it for you?” A small smile of amusement managed to break out on Sammy's tired expression. She had to admit that whoever this guy was he sounded like someone she would get along with. Too bad I'll never meet him.

“I don't know what time it is. There are no windows down here.” Hopefully that would clue him in on her situation a bit. Borrowers usually kept track of the time consistently, but Sammy had no idea what time it was, what day it was, what month it was, or even the year. She was probably close to 18 though if her soulmate was speaking to her.

“What do you mean? Can't you check outside if you don't have a clock?” Came the answer, and Sammy couldn't help but sigh. She really didn't feel like telling this stranger her sob story, no matter how nice his voice sounded.

“I just go to sleep when I'm tired. I could stay awake a bit longer though… Tell me about yourself.” She casually changed the subject, with enough force that it would be hard to go back but not too much that it was obvious she didn't want to discuss it. It seemed to work because she heard his voice chime in reply.

“Well— we can't tell each other our names, but just imagine my name is super cool, yeah? Uhh… let's start with basic basics I guess. My favourite colour is red, my favourite food is…pasta. And. Hm. Well, I just turned 18, so it's my birthday.” He responded, clearly sheepish about being put on the spot.

“Happy birthday to you then. What's the date again?” She asked, unsure of how old she was at this point, but guessing she was almost 18. She knew for a fact that it had been around 3 years so far because Ryker would occasionally make mentions of the passing time.

“It’s July 17th. How old are you by the way?”

“17. Hopefully 18 in January.” The ‘hopefully’ slipped out instinctively; Sammy wasn't under any delusion that she had no chance of dying before reaching her next birthday, and she didn't feel sad about it necessarily. She had already spent so long in this kind of mindset that it was more of a statement of fact than anything else.

She looked down at Tanner again. So he'll be 14 in October then. Time flies. If I count the days I might be able to wish him a happy birthday on the actual day.

“Hey, don't talk like that. Maybe I'll even get to wish you a happy birthday in person..!” Her soulmate responded positively, and Sammy smiled sadly, looking down at her scuffed knees and bruised legs, pulling the hem of her gown down a bit more.

“Maybe.” No. There was no chance she was getting out of here. Ryker was watching things much too closely, and Sammy knew she was getting more and more exhausted by the week. It was hard to keep fighting when it was easier to give in.

It didn't take long for Sammy to realise something was off about her soulmate. He never spoke about typical borrower things— he talked almost like a human most of the time, mentioning friends coming over as if it was like popping from burrow to burrow. He said he liked video games, and at first Sammy assumed he liked watching humans play video games but then he had also mentioned playing them himself.

The most damning thing to convince her though was the food. Even if he ate the same thing most days, that thing was certainly nothing a borrower would have access to so regularly. Sammy's parents had always tried to keep a variety of food whilst she and Tanner were growing up, but they couldn't have regular meals, especially not more than once a week.

When he mentioned skipping school that's what 100% solidified it for her. Her soulmate was a human. Somehow. And that thought scared her.

“Hey, are you feeling alright? You've not been responding much recently… If I can do anything to help, let me know.” Sammy was once again presented with a dilemma at the sound of her soulmate’s soothing voice. He sounded genuine, but Sammy knew humans weren't capable of that. They were monsters, plain and simple. If they are nice one moment they'll be terrible the next.

She glanced in Ryker's direction, confirming that he was distracted writing on his stupid notebook before clasping her hands together and closing her eyes.

“Sorry. I'm just feeling a bit tired lately. I—”

“What are you doing?” Sammy jolted in surprise, her hands immediately unclasping as the rumbling of Ryker's voice fell over her. His grey eyes bore down on her and a shiver ran up her spine from the contact, only keeping her sense enough to not backpedal away. Her mouth opened but an explanation wouldn't come to her lips; what could she really say she was doing instead?

“You what?”

“I must say, you don't seem the religious type, Sammy. This isn't the first time I've seen you put your hands together like that after all.” He gestured over his shoulder towards one of the cameras that were pointing towards the glass enclosure, his eyes never leaving Sammy's form.

She cursed internally. Since Ryker hadn't mentioned it up until now she figured it had either not been visible to the cameras or that he wasn't checking them regularly. Turns out, like the snake he was, he had just been waiting to catch her off guard in the act.

“Lost your train of thought? I get that. I forget what I’m saying half the time too.”

“I…got a soulmate…” She responded, brows furrowing with frustration and gaze pointed away from the doctor. She figured he would already know what that was— it wasn't like it was uncommon for humans after all— but his expression didn't change. He only dragged his notebook over to sit in front of him again, clicking his pen.

“And what does that entail? I presume it's some sort of link between you and a partner. Probably telepathic. How interesting…” Sammy could spy what seemed to be a genuinely curious look in his eyes and the hint of a smile playing at his lips. She had never seen him express much of any emotion besides anger before, and the fact that she didn't know what his smile meant frightened her.

As she was internally panicking over what that smile might mean for her, she snapped out of it when he spoke again.

“Well? Is it?” Sammy nodded, shrinking back when Ryker's excitement seemed to increase at her confirmation. “How intriguing. I noticed there was something a bit different about… hm.. but…”

He trailed off, just leaving Sammy with questions and no answers. She was nervous about putting her hands together again, unsure if that would get her in trouble. Ryker had gone through great lengths to completely shut her and Tanner off from any hope after all…

What if he tied my arms down? Or cut them off…or tied my arms to my torso… or…

“Go ahead and speak to them, her, him again. I want to watch more closely.” It wasn't a request. Sammy knew that much by now. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest as she shakily clasped her hands together, closing her eyes.

“H-hey. Sorry, I'm really fucking scared right now. I don't know if we'll be able to talk after this.” The words came from her faster than she could think them through, and she couldn't help but curse again at her panicked apology. “Shit.”

“Woah woah— what's wrong? Are you in danger?”

Sammy's eyes opened briefly, watching Ryker scribble away in his notebook again, recognizing that he was writing at the same pace that words were being shared. That's impossible. She closed her eyes, shoulders bunching up.

“No. Yes. Maybe. All of the above? I can't tell you. I don't know how, but I think he's listening.” The scribbling stopped abruptly for a couple seconds, before slowly starting up again. Sammy took a breath to calm her racing heart, angry tears pricking at the corners of her eyes at the fact that Ryker was once again taking something from her.

“Fuck you, this is private.” She flinched instinctively, waiting for a retaliation. When she didn't receive one she tried to sit up straight again, and noticed that her soulmate had gone quiet. “If I could explain, I would. But it's better if you forget me since I'm probably gonna die anyway.”

“I-I don't understand. I'm sure you're not gonna die, right? Just… it's gonna be okay, yeah? It will.” Sammy nearly groaned. She could tell that he probably thought she was just having a psychotic break or something, which as understandable as that was it was still incredibly frustrating.

“The bad man's name is Dr. Zorro Ryk—”

“That's enough of that.” Sammy cried out as she felt oversized fingers easily pry her hands apart, pinching onto her arm. Ryker was looking down at her with a cold gaze, his shadow enveloping her from above. “You are such an enigma, Sammy... I know you're a child, but sometimes you are so very intelligent and then you can be so incredibly stupid.”

“Let go!” She shouted, trying and failing to pull her arm away, staring at the fingers pinching it with a panicked gaze. Although the grip wasn't painful, it was still terrifying to feel something so large clamped around her limb. She knew that at any moment if Ryker decided to press down her arm would not work again.

“You— you got cut off again. I'm worried. Fuck, if I knew your name this would be much easier… Can you just tell me if you're okay? Please.” Sammy shut her eyes and shook her head— that soothing voice she had grown to enjoy now just tormenting her. Teasing her with what she knew she couldn't have.

It's always too good to be true.

“If you knew I was listening, why would you say that? Do you not have a brain in that tiny little body, hm? Because someone with a brain would not throw away their chances of communication so readily..!” He snapped, tone scolding and yet it still frightened Sammy enough to make her tremble.

“People who do not think are just corpses walking. Get that through your skull… What were you expecting to happen? No one is going to help you. Do you understand that? It doesn't matter if they know that name or not.” He growled. “Not only that, but you didn't even consider your soulmate's safety. You don't know the nature of how I'm listening. What if I knew who he was and killed him because of what you said?”

Sammy's face paled at that, tears welling in her eyes and blurring her vision.

“Don’t!”

His eyes narrowed at her, and although his frustration grew his fingers never once changed the amount of pressure on her arm. Sammy was too distressed to really notice that though, just trying to pull away again. The finger then moved, forcing her to stumble forwards with a yelp.

“Or what? You know you cannot stop me. How many times do I have to tell you not to make demands of people you can't handle yourself.” Sammy felt herself getting tugged forwards again, and her breathing quickened, really believing he was going to crush her hand or arm to prevent her from speaking to her soulmate again. She shut her eyes tightly.

“M-mum…” She whimpered under her breath as some tears spilled over. At the end of the day, it didn't matter how many years passed or how tough she liked to act or how many injuries she had acquired… She was still scared.

The grip on her arm suddenly disappeared and she lost her balance, immediately crumbling to the ground and burying her face into her arms, facing away from the doctor as she hiccuped. The silence only lasted a few seconds but it felt like minutes to Sammy…

Ryker cleared his throat.

“If you speak to him again, you will wish you never had. Understood?”

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Fountain of Youth pt. 5 - Envy

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

Synopsis: Emmeline is discovered and held captive by a pirate captain and her crew who are searching for a source of eternal youth and health spread through stories. When they find someone who doesn’t die or age they believe they’ve found the secret - and will do anything to Emmeline to get it.

Tag List:    @deluxewhump -  @whumpinggrounds - @yet-another-heathen - @its-mysweetlittlesecret-blog  - @killtheprotagonist  - @kixngiggles   - @averyskellybro  - @whumpingmydarlings - @starnight-whump - @thecloudattack - @whumpitywhumpwhump - @i-can-even-burn-salad  - @evilwriter37

(please let me know if you’d like to be added/removed!)

Author’s Notes: UM have this i guess??? Two ideas kinda got mushed into one chapter. :’)

Content Warnings: lady whump, immortal whumpee, female whumper, multiple whumpers, pirate whumpers, sadistic whumper, intimate whumper, whumper’s POV (second half), captivity, implied starvation, manhandling, choking, bloodletting/draining blood, cuts

Keep reading

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I want to write a book called “your character dies in the woods” that details all the pitfalls and dangers of being out on the road & in the wild for people without outdoors/wilderness experience bc I cannot keep reading narratives brush over life threatening conditions like nothing is happening.

I just read a book by one of my favorite authors whose plots are essentially airtight, but the MC was walking on a country road on a cold winter night and she was knocked down and fell into a drainage ditch covered in ice, broke through and got covered in icy mud and water.

Then she had a “miserable” 3 more miles to walk to the inn.

Babes she would not MAKE it to that inn.

[bookshelf-for-stuff-i-wanna-read]

Hunger

Hero pushed a coffee mug and muffin over to Villain’s side of the desk.

“Eat.”

Villain’s eyes flickered to the mug, then to Hero, before returning to the page he’d been reading. His posture remained unchanged: hunched over, one hand pinning down the paper, the other bracing his forehead.

“We need to take a break.” Hero tried again. “I don’t even know how you can focus right now.”

“I can focus when you’re not interrupting me.”

“Interrupting? I’m trying to make sure you don’t pass out in my office.” Hero sighed. The stacks of papers spread between them dwarfed the mug Hero had offered forward. “Look, I know you want this done. I do too. But we’re going to crash and burn if we keep going.”

“You’re perfectly free to take your own break. I’m not stopping you.”

Villain shifted his current page to the “read” pile and dragged a thick book over in its stead.

“The muffin’s gluten-free.” Hero muttered. “And the drink’s non-dairy, by the way.”

Finally, Villain glanced up, pinching the cover of the book. His eyes widened a fraction.

“I can listen.” Hero turned to his own cup, covering his expression with a long draught. “Plus it’s kind of funny. You can catch a falling building, but your body draws the line at dairy? Wild.”

“Superhero has a peanut allergy.” Villain sniffed, dragging the muffin bag closer. “We all have our weaknesses.”

“She’s not allergic. You’re making that shit up.”

Villain cocked a brow. “You should pay more attention.”

“I do.” Hero waved toward the muffin and the coffee.

Villain sighed.

“So you know more about me,” Villain plucked a chocolate chip off the muffin and popped it in his mouth, “than the boss you’ve had for five years?”

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♫🎶I've got a book of torture, I've got a book of torture, and guess what is insiide it ♫🎶

I... Oh--

Oh oh my-- *pearl clutch*

Oh dear, who would have thought...

More? Oh, yes, there is more :) And there's a story to go along with the pain as well!

Home is where the hurt is will be released in paperback on July 10th! (only ebook pre-orders are up now)

What if your own home is no longer safe?

After an encounter with a local crime gang some years ago, Jay is enjoying a peaceful life. Until Zayne shows up on his doorstep.

Jay’s priorities drastically shift from meeting deadlines to avoiding death threats, making sure no one knows what is going on by hiding his injuries and evading questions. But while Zayne is his biggest concern, an even bigger threat looms over them both; someone who is determined to keep past and present events under wraps, no matter the cost.

[bookshelf-for-stuff-i-wanna-read]

You wake up to find you have swapped bodies with your roommate. As if this wasn’t already weird, this is how you discover your friend is also a fantasy creature disguised as a human.

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Scar Reveal

@medwhumpmay Day 1

Medwhump May Masterlist

content: recovery / comfort / caretaking, implied past whipping, stoic whumpee

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Even with the battlefield of scars criss-crossing his back and his unreadable always-stony expression, Caretaker could see Whumpee’s muscles tense, rigid. He pulled the shirt over his head, bundling it up in his hands like a stress ball, and said nothing.

Whumpee’s back was red and inflamed, and it took Caretaker a moment to realize it wasn’t the scars: Whumpee had been scratching at it so much, he’d added to it with his own set of criss-crosses, some of which had even bled and scabbed over, like echoes of whatever had done this to him. That explained the spot of blood they’d seen through his shirt.

Caretaker was silent for a moment. Whumpee would never call them out for saying the wrong thing, they’d gleaned that much in their short time together, and they needed to handle this with care. But too much silence was its own kind of bad response, so they settled on, “It looks like your back is really bothering you. I could put some cortisone on it, if you’re comfortable with that.”

“Cortisone?” Whumpee inquired in that low voice of his. His back was still turned, but Caretaker could practically hear the raised eyebrow.

“It’s just a cream. Relieves itching and skin inflammation. I’ve got the kind that’s got aloe in it too, I think. It might help you feel better,” they encouraged.

Whumpee shrugged stiffly. “Alright.”

“I’ll be right back. You can just find a chair and sit backwards on it,” Caretaker suggested. When they returned, supplies in hand, they found Whumpee exactly as requested, resting against the wooden back of one of the kitchen chairs. If one could call it ‘resting’.

“What’s the other stuff?” he asked, guarded.

“For where you’re bleeding. Just bandages and antibiotic ointment.” They stopped themself from adding a You haven’t seen band-aids before?

Caretaker pulled up another chair, Whumpee’s eyes squeezing shut, unbreathing for a second at the unexpected sound, the closest they’d ever seen him come to a flinch. Before they knew it, he was back to normal. Well, Whumpee’s normal.

They sat. Their initial instinct said to cover the bleeding scratches with antibiotic first, but maybe that would be too much too fast. Caretaker opened the cortisone. “I’m just going to spread this over your back,” they narrated. As they touched the edge of Whumpee’s back, just where it met the side of his ribcage, their touch feather-light, they felt his skin jump under their fingertips. Barely perceptible to the eye. There was a good chance Whumpee had been doing that their whole stay here.

“Tell me if anything hurts, or you just want me to stop for any reason, and I’ll stop. But it should feel good.” Caretaker slowly made their way toward the middle of the back, where the severe-but-old scars and minor-but-fresh scratches were. Both were raised and bumpy under their hand, like a corded rug. He slathered it all in the cooling cream.

“Why are you doing this?” Whumpee asked suddenly, staring straight ahead.

“Well, you were always scratching at your back, and then when I saw the blood and then how red it was–”

“Not that,” Whumpee interjected. It was the boldest he’d been so far. “All of this. Letting me stay here. The food. Everything. You don’t even know me.”

“You needed help,” Caretaker said simply, gently rubbing the cortisone into the divet under his shoulderblade. “You looked really, really scared. I’d seen you around the gym a bunch of times and never seen you look like that.”

Is someone looking for you? They didn’t dare ask, not yet. They had a feeling that if they did, Whumpee would bolt out into the night, even shirtless, and they’d never see him again.

“Mm,” Whumpee hummed, short and disapproving. Maybe he didn’t expect to be noticed being around the gym.

They were silent after that, as Caretaker applied another layer, Whumpee’s agitated skin soaking it up faster than they could apply it.

And then, something magical happened.

Whumpee’s muscles gradually untensed. Caretaker could feel the difference, the hard surface softening under their touch. By the time they were done, the only stiffness left in his back was the scar tissue.

-

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Everything taglist:

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Medwhump May taglist:

this doesn't exist yet! let me know if you wanna be on it, or any of the other taglists.

[bookshelf-for-stuff-i-wanna-read]

I’ll give Eldwin…

🛌- A soft weighted blanket

Thanks for the ask! Sorry it's taken so long

He climbed through the window, landing on the floor with a soft thud, barely perceptible even without the safety of a silencing spell. He peered out the window one last time, scanning the alleyway below. Satisfied, he closed the window, locked it, and drew the curtains closed. His brow furrowed, and with a frown he pulled back the curtains and double checked the latch. Triple checked. Definitely locked. He closed the curtains again, ensuring there were no gaps. Then he crossed the room to the exit door, which was still locked as he'd left it. He checked the en-suite bathroom, and the closet. Under the bed. Every nook, every cranny, even the ceiling for anything suspicious.

After giving it the all clear he slowly let out a deep breath. He tossed his cloak aside and shrugged off his jacket, kicking off his boots before he flopped face-first into the mattress with a groan. He ought to shower first, but he couldn't be bothered. Four days straight he'd been tailing that man with only bottled-sleep to keep him going. Handy little concoctions, for an emergency or long mission. After though, the effect of it hit him full force. His limbs grew heavier by the second, and a dull throbbing in his skull threatened to become a full-blown migraine. Now, more than anything, he just wanted to pass out for a week.

It was cold, too. He contemplated getting up and climbing into bed properly, but he wasn't sure he could. There was a blanket neatly draped over the bed. If he rolled over a little he'd be able to reach...

Come on, stupid body. Work. With far more effort than such a simple movement should take, he grabbed the blanket in his hand and dragged it to him. Mission accomplished.

The effect was immediate. Warmth immediately soothed his aching muscles. He didn't know what fabric it was made off, but it was heavy. It was nice, though. Despite the physical weight upon him, it felt like a weight had been lifted. He found himself curling up tightly, bundling himself into the plush fabric. So... soft. And fluffy. And warm. Like a giant cat draped over him.

He shouldn't have done this. He won't want to leave. If given the option, he'd take this mid-range hotel with its positively luxurious blankets over his room at the manor. How could he go back now? This was surely, the greatest mistake of his life. Oh, but the nicest one too. If he suffocated right now, he would at least die happy. He closed his eyes, and for the first time in months fell into a deep sleep, comforted by a warm embrace.

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An Eldritch Engagement

This is a special incentive snippet for my friend @creweemmaeec11, I hope you like it, Crewe! And if it's too short for your liking, feel free to request a continuation!

Prompt: okok, I'd like a hero fighting a giant monster of some kind in the middle of the city, cameras and crowd watching in horror cuz hero is losing, when all of a sudden villain jumps in between them and to everyones shock and amazement starts talking to the creature, and manages to get it to calm down an stop attacking in front of everyone :3

Hero spat out a glob of blood, wiping their mouth with their sleeve. Despite the cold energy swirling from their hands, a determined fire burned in their eyes. Part of their mask had been torn off, and their cape lay discarded on the rooftop, completely in tatters. Hero limped toward the monster, sending a giant blast of ice right between two of its many eyes.

“We’re live at the scene,” Reporter said, ducking when a lamppost meant for Hero crashed down just inches away from them, “Hero has been making attempts to defeat the creature for some time now, but they’ve been taking a lot of hits and-” a car rammed into the nearest building, “-it isn’t clear if Hero is going to survive this.”

Hero staggered back, bits of shrapnel lodged in their good leg. Their knees shook, threatening to buckle. The monster raised a tentacle high. Hero went to dodge but collapsed on the spot. They looked up as the tentacle came down; they closed their eyes and accepted their fate.

The crowd gasped. Hero took that to mean they were dead now. Although, surely if they were crushed to death, they wouldn’t be hearing anything anymore, right? They cracked an eye open. The tentacle had stopped just inches above their head. A figure hovered between them and the monster.

“V-Villain?” Hero choked.

Villain fixed the monster with a stern glare. They spoke in a language Hero couldn’t understand. The monster’s giant maw opened, showing row upon row of jagged teeth the size of small trees. Instead of proceeding to eat Hero’s savior however, the mouth started to speak in the same tongue.

Villain and the monster exchanged many words in the tense minutes that followed. Some calm, some loud. Eventually, Villain put their hands on their hips and shouted a final command. The monster looked down at the Villain with what Hero could almost perceive as fondness, then it nodded.

The tentacle came down again, much slower this time, and patted Hero on the head. It grabbed the lampposts it had been throwing around and slammed them back into the ground. It put the cars back on the street, inadvertently crushing them in the process. It said one more word to Villain, then flew up into the sky, eventually breaching Earth’s atmosphere and heading back to whatever dark nebula it came from.

The crowd stared at the sky in silence, then erupted into cheers. Paramedics threw the door to the roof open and surrounded Hero. Villain was at their side in an instant.

“H-how did you-?”

“It’s uh… it’s a funny story,” Villain said, “but basically in exchange for sparing the planet, you have to come to dinner this weekend.”

“What!?”

Hero stared as they were pulled onto the stretcher. That made absolutely no sense.

“The thing is… my dad is really sorry about attacking you and he wants to meet you to apologize in person.”

“That thing is your dad!?”

Hero promptly passed out on the stretcher. Villain sighed, rubbing the back of their neck. This was not how they wanted Hero to meet their parents.

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The dragon snarled at the knight as she hid the princess behind her, rearing her head back she let out a loud roar, "FOR THE LAST TIME! I GOT FULL CUSTODY IN THE DIVORCE, THE KING GOT THE CASTLE AND THE GOLD!"

[bookshelf-for-stuff-i-wanna-read]

Prompt 33 - Nightmare

All Villain could see was blood.

So much blood.

Spilled across rough concrete, coating random pieces of debris, splattered on a familiar figure in the middle of the wreckage.

Too much blood. How had all of this come from one person? There was blood on them, they could feel it on their hands, and it would never come off.

They were unable to contain their gasp of horror. Something about the scene was eerily familiar, as if this very moment had happened before.

They knew it was hopeless, that they failed, as soon as they saw the blood.

They approached the figure, desperately hoping they weren’t as dead as they looked. Or that they weren’t who Villain thought they were. It was all in vain. They knew that, just like they knew Hero was dead.

They didn’t need to see the stillness of their chest, or feel for a pulse that wasn’t there. Would never be there again. They reached for Hero’s wrist anyways.

Their fingers barely brushed Hero’s too cold, too pale skin, then—

Villain jolted awake.

The room was dark, with only a faint sliver of moonlight visible through the curtains. Half of the blankets had slid onto the floor at some point during the night, and the remaining ones covering Villain weren’t enough to keep the cold chill from settling into their bones. They didn’t register any of it.

The blood on their hands felt so real. They couldn’t shake the fear that Hero was dead because of Villain’s mistake hurt. They felt around in the dark until they grasped their phone, then, with trembling hands, dialled the phone number they had recently memorized.

“Hello?” a tired voice answered.

“Hero?”

Villain realized why this had been such a bad idea too late.

“Villain? How do you have my number?” Hero sounded far too awake for half past three in the morning.

They suddenly felt guilty for bothering them so early. “Did I wake you?”

“No, I was already up.” A yawn cut through Hero’s sentence. ”Early shift today.”

“Early shift?” Villain repeated. “Aren’t you still on medical leave?”

“I’m trying to catch up on all the paperwork I’ve been putting off. Why’d you call me at,” a pause, “three forty in the morning?”

Memories of their nightmare came flooding back. They knew it was just a dream, a nightmare that had been plaguing them ever since Hero’s encounter with Supervillain, and subsequent injury. It just felt so real. “…I simply wanted to see how you were doing.”

Hero’s responding hum suggested they didn’t believe that in the slightest. “Do you want me to keep talking?”

“Yes, please.” They didn’t think they could handle silence right now. Not when it made their thoughts seem so loud. Hero rambled about anything that came to mind, and Villain found themself relaxing, adrenaline fading and exhaustion taking its place.

At some point, Hero asked, “Has this been enough to convince you I’m not dying?”

Villain hummed an affirmative. “G’night, Hero.”

“Goodnight, Villain.”

Villain was asleep before the call ended.

[bookshelf-for-stuff-i-wanna-read]

To be continued…?

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[bookshelf-for-stuff-i-wanna-read]

Caretaker gave a warning glare to his friend as they snuck up behind Whumpee.

Tate lifted a finger to their lips to warn Caretaker to be quiet.

With the role of Caretaker's eyes, Tate thought they were free to scare Whumpee.

Whumpee jumped with a yelp, turned around, and slammed their fist into Tate's stomach.

"I give that a ten out of ten", Caretaker chuckled as they watched Tate fall to the ground.

Whumpee covered their mouth in shock.

"Tate, I am so sorry. You scared me", Whumpee gasped.

Tate grunted in pain as he rolled over, "oww, oww. Who taught you to punch like that?", he winced.

"I did", Caretaker smiled, "I told them if anyone tried to grab them, they were free to hit. Even if it was me. People who know Whumpee should know better than to scare them."

Tate staggered to their feet.

"I warned you not to do it, and you went ahead and did it", Caretaker walked over to Whumpee, "is your hand okay?"

"I think so", Whumpee showed their hand to Caretaker.

"Is no one concerned about me?", Tate groaned.

"Not really, I'd say that was well deserved", Caretaker turned, "but I guess I should ask since it's my job to be a caregiver.... are you okay?"

"I'm fine thanks", Tate grunted in annoyance, "glad you are so worried about me."

"I'm sorry Tate, I didn't mean to hurt you", Whumpee looked at them sadly, "honest, I really am sorry."

Tate sulked out of the kitchen to find a seat.

Whumpee made a concerned face, "I really didn't mean to Caretaker."

"You did nothing wrong, Whumpee. Tate shouldn't have scared you", Caretaker smiled and tried to comfort them, "they know what happened to you, and they should know better."

Whumpee looked down at their hands.

Later Caretaker went out to the living room and found Tate clutching a pillow.

"Why are you sulking when you caused the problem before hand... hmm", Caretaker sat down across from them.

"Don't start with me.... none of your Caretaker wisdom is needed right now", Tate sighed.

"Then I won't impart any wisdom to you, just a warning. You do any of that crap to Whumpee or any of my patients, that punch will feel like a mere tickle after I'm done with you", Caretaker warned.

"Threatening me Caretaker", Tate stated sarcastically.

"No, of course not. I'm promising you, I expect you to respect my patients and the care I give them", Caretaker frowned, "the people who come through my home have been through bad situations. They come here for me to take care of them and rehab them so they can get on with their lives and be okay. I don't need you ruining the work I do here."

Tate made an angry face.

"Okay", Caretaker sighed, "I can see I'm not getting through. Get out of my house, you may return when you are in a better mood. You've hurt Whumpee and I will expect an apology to them when you do return."

"Hurt them how? I got punched and no one batted an eye", Tate raised their voice.

"You got punched because you scared them. You got punched because there was a time someone grabbed them like that and didn't let go. They were kidnapped... you remember that right?", Caretaker stood and pointed at the dining room where Whumpee could be heard sobbing, "you hurt them because of how you reacted. You got punched. Give it a week and you'll be fine. You just brought back flashbacks of everything they went through. They are crying because of that and because they hurt you "

Tate's face changed in sudden realization.

"I see it's finally clicking", Caretaker sighed, "but you need to leave now. I have an upset patient, and you have not been helpful at all today."

"Can I apologi...."

"No, not right now, I want you to think about this. I don't want you to be able to waltz in there and give a half ass apology. Knowing Whumpee, they will be quick to forgive you", Caretaker pointed at them, "I want it to eat at you a little bit. You may come back tomorrow if you wish, and apologize then, but not now."

Tate groaned, "you're so difficult."

"Well, you gave me a lot more work to do today with what I need to do to settle Whumpee. So no, you get to have some guilt", Caretaker pointed at the door, "let me know by text when you decide to be safe around my patients. You'll be welcome to come back and apologize, and be in my home again."

Whumpee cried a little louder when they heard the door slam.

Caretaker came into the dining room, and walked around the table to Whumpee.

"I didn't mean to", Whumpee blubbered, "I don't want them mad at me."

"They are not mad at you. They realized what they did, and are sorry", Caretaker patted Whumpee's shoulder, "if anything they're mad at me."

"But why?", Whumpee whispered.

"Because I want them to think about what they did. They are sorry, but I want them to put some heart into their apology. You deserve that Whumpee", Caretaker sighed, "but don't worry, they're not mad at you, and they'll just have to get over it."

Tate lay in bed that night.

Caretaker was right, the guilt was eating them alive. They tossed and turned throughout the night.

By morning they were on their phone texting Caretaker.

"Yes you can come over a little after breakfast, around ten", Caretaker texted back.

Caretaker lead Tate into the living room and leaned against the door.

"Let Whumpee speak first then you can talk", Caretaker frowned, then nodded at Whumpee.

Whumpee made a worried face at Tate.

"I'm sorry for hurting you, but I don't like surprises like that", Whumpee frowned at Tate, "it is scary when someone grabs you... and....", Whumpee looked down, then quickly wiped a tear.

"You grabbed them where they have bruises", Caretaker leaned in, after watching Whumpee struggle.

Whumpee weakly nodded.

"I'm still not completely healed physically or mentally from what my captors did", Whumpee lifted their shirt up slightly to show the bruising, "my body and my brain won't let me forget, not yet at least", Whumpee whispered as they dropped their shirt.

Tate could see the dark bruising around Whumpee's stomach and side. It definitely looked as though the bruising continued up farther.

"Whumpee, I am so so so sorry for being dumb and doing that to you. I was attempting to have fun, but I did not take into account that my fun could hurt you. You did not deserve that, but you also did not deserve my attitude after you punched me. I absolutely deserved that", Tate turned to Caretaker, "I'm also sorry for my attitude toward you, I know you take your job very seriously. Your patients are your top priority, and you deserve that to be respected. I'm sorry for any trouble I caused for both of you."

Caretaker grinned slightly, "I see the guilt ate at you quite a lot."

Tate nodded as they rubbed their stomach, "I didn't get much sleep last night because of it."

"I can imagine", Caretaker stepped away, "I'll be right back."

Tate turned to Whumpee.

Whumpee was watching Tate rub their stomach. They gad a sad expression.

"Are you okay?", Tate frowned.

"I appreciate your apology, and...and of course I forgive you", Whumpee still looked at their stomach, "but, I know how it feels to be punched in the stomach. I'm so sorry for punching you."

"Eh, like I said, I deserved it... you didn't deserve your bruises", Tate watched Caretaker come back in carrying something, "what is that?"

"Just sit on the couch, let me work my Caretaker magic." Caretaker followed them to the couch and knelt in front of them, "lift your shirt for me", Caretaker started to take a cap off of a tube.

"What is that?", Tate frowned.

"We call it bruise goop. It helps reduce swelling and some pain from the bruise. It will also help the discoloration", Caretaker started to apply some.

"Discoloration? Whumpee's bruising is dark still", Tate pointed out.

"Should have seen it before I started using this cream", Caretaker sighed, "it's also old bruising it takes a little longer to heal."

"I caused that?", Whumpee frowned at the bruise.

"Yes you did", Caretaker grinned, "I still say it was a ten out ten."

Whumpee frowned, "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be, I deserved it. Now we are twins for a while", Tate laughed.

Whumpee smiled weakly and nodded.

Caretaker finished with the medicine.

"There we go, you should be good as new in a week of so. If you need more of this, I have a bunch", Caretaker sighed, "you know where to find me."

"Yep, doing what you do best", Tate smiled.

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[bookshelf-for-stuff-i-wanna-read]

Still! Writing! Shale!

living Weapon doesn’t have a name. Wasn’t allowed a name. So when Doctor gives it a name, and Caretaker doesn’t argue, it….

It chokes back a sob. Chokes back its response. Weapons aren’t people, and only people deserve names. Only people get names. But it gets a name to put on its sticker chart. Gets a name Caretaker calls it. Gets a name, a simple name, and it knows. It knows it can’t express gratitude over it. Can’t tell them how much it means to it.

By now, it knows better than to let a Handler know what’s precious to it.

But.

But….

It curls up, in its new bed, under the blankets, and when it’s sure no one can hear….

When it’s sure no one can hear, it chokes out a tiny, wobbly, “Thank you.”