monarchthefirst

[monarchthefirst]

Recaptured living weapon Whumpee who is about to face the consequences of their escape. And when Whumper brings them back into that painfully familiar room, when they calmly take out the whip, Whumpee knows precisely what to do.

Their feet take them to the middle of the room, and they kneel, methodically disposing of their shirt. As their shoulders roll back into a straightened position, they can practically feel Whumper's gaze burning into the back of their head. A sadistic, eyes-only smile, knowing that even though Whumpee was physically free for some time, they never truly escaped.

[monarchthefirst]

WHAT ARE WE?!

WRITERS!!!

WHAT ARE WE GONNA DO?!

WRITE!!!!!

WHEN ARE WE GONNA DO IT?!

((Disgruntled muttering))

[monarchthefirst]

The question isn't "would this character ever admit to needing help or are they determined to be a totally stoic wall?" it's "what would it take to make this character who's determined to be a totally stoic wall desperate enough to ask for help?"

Scare them so bad they decide it's worth breaking their own internal guiding doctrine and facing the mortification of admitting to their friends that they're fallible.

[monarchthefirst]

Genuinely think this is one of the greatest scenes ever put to film. I think about it all the time.

[monarchthefirst]

Every day, Whumpee is brought to a room with a bolted chair, a tray of tools, and a mirror.

They're tortured to a brutal degree. Whumpee screams, sobbing through the pain, “Why!? Why are you doing th-this? Just tell me what you w-want!”

Their captors never speak; whumpee's never even heard their voices. Sometimes, they grab their face and force them to look into the mirror bleeding, shaking, barely conscious.

Then the moment ends, and it starts all over again.

On the other side of the glass sits Caretaker, watching while unharmed and being questioned.

Every time they don’t have an answer, whumpee takes the hit.

[monarchthefirst]

Talking more about one of my favorite prompts:

Thrown to their knees and gagged

Content: bruises, slapping, gagging, scared whumpee

Thrown to their knees in front of a whumper that wants to beat the piss out of them

(and whumpee is fully aware from the look on whumper's face that they are planning on it. *Panicking, hyperventilating, keeping head down anticipating the first blow*)

Throwing whumpee onto their knees and they moan because this is like the 6th time today and their knees are red and inflamed and bruised

"shut him up." *Cue gag*

Slap of hand on chin as chin is roughly yanked backward and whumpee's whole back arches in the same direction to keep from hurting their neck

"whumper-Aa!--" (--whumpee)

"open." Smack to the cheek. "Open your mouth."

Whumpee's eyes squeezed shut already and they have to open them to see what is going in their mouth

Gagged whumpee thrown down on their bruised swollen knees so the moan sounds more muffled like "MMMNNffh!"

Whumpee tries to get up and a hand pinches down on the back of their neck. "No."

[monarchthefirst]

Whump piece. (Part 2)

****

They were in the bathtub at home, people outside the bathroom were chatting, vague sounds of something being cooked could be heard. There were faces of others and yet they were alone in the bathroom, there were too-small and too-big bottles of shampoo, towels and cleaning supplies were floating in the air and yet at the same time stayed firmly in place. Was it dark or was it unbearably bright? They couldn’t tell for sure. The water was crystal clear, they could see their own legs perfectly. Were they wearing shorts? Why would they do that, who in their right mind bathes with clothes still on?

Then, they spotted something in the water, multiple somethings, green and reddish and whitish flecks of colour were moving there. The worms were quickly multiplying and spreading in the water, no matter how much they squirmed and tried to jump out of the bathtub. Then, the first few worms touched their bared skin and… started seeping underneath. They screamed and thrashed around, unable to leave the water, resulting only in more worms interacting with their skin. Someone behind the door laughed…

***

Whumpee jolted awake and abruptly sat up in bed, feeling sick to their stomach. They kicked away the duvet and frantically looked over themselves, their skin still itching in places where phantom worms disturbed it. Only after they were sure no other living creature was in bed except for them, Whumpee dared to slowly close their eyes again. Images of water and flecks of colour moving in it aroused in their mind…

A few moments later Whumpee was hovering over their sink, gagging. Their stomach was churning and they could feel something stuck in their throat. Whumpee heaved again, bringing nothing but bile and saliva. They winced at the burning sensation, taking a moment to take a shaky breath. Their eyelids were burning and they felt slightly lightheaded, a dull headache making itself known right behind their unfocused eyes. Whumpee squinted and slowly raised their head to look at their own reflection in the mirror, their knuckles going white from how hard they were gripping the edge of the sink. Oh, they didn’t feel well. Whumpee swallowed through the persistent nausea and breathed noisily through their nose. That unmistakable dull ache deep inside Whumpee’s joints made them frown and put the back of their hand to their forehead. Were they… feverish? With a groan Whumpee rubbed their eyes. Why them? Gods, and they were foolish enough to offend Caretaker earlier, now they will have to deal with this alone, and they didn’t want to, they are always miserable when sick, and they can’t function when they are miserable! Stupid! If only they filtered their comments…

With this grim train of self-hating thoughts Whumpee made their way to the kitchen, fumbling with the light switch for a second, then wincing as the sudden bright light made their irritated eyes hurt. They poured themselves a glass of water and took a few small sips, mindful of their lingering nausea.

Two full mugs of now cold chamomile tea were still standing on the table. The sight of them made Whumpee feel a new, very different type of pain in their stomach. For a split second they contemplated calling Caretaker to apologise, but then their eyes landed on the clock. Uh, perhaps four in the morning wasn’t the greatest time for such dialogues.

Whumpee sniffed and coughed, rubbing their aching chest. Right, they need to check their temperature first.

Eventually, after all the fussing and searching for the thermometer, Whumpee settled on the tiny couch in the kitchen (they didn’t feel up to going back to bed and awaiting worms, just not yet), a thermometer under their armpit and a blanket on their shoulders. They were mindlessly scrolling through some stuff on their phone, not actually reading or watching anything, just to have something to pass the time. When their eyes started burning and they started feeling nauseous from the flashy images, Whumpee sighed and put their phone away. After enough time had passed, they took the thermometer and squinted to see the tiny numbers. 37.9 degrees Celcium (100,22 degrees Fahrenheit). Hey, that’s not too bad, after all they had worse, Whumpee reassured themselves as they put the thermometer away.

The rest of the night they spent in a fitful sleep, half-sitting on the same couch as before, waking up a few times to a persistent cough they couldn’t shake off.

***

At about 8 am Whumpee was heading down the street to a nearest pharmacy. When they woke up, they quickly realised they felt worse than they did yesterday, the cough seemed to take a deep hold in their chest. Sadly, they also ran out of any cough medicine. So now, the only thing Whumpee could do to ease at least a little bit of their own misery was to put on two layers of clothes and a scarf big enough their face didn’t scare passerby. They suppressed another painful cough and rubbed their shoulders. They were starting to feel chilly… That fever was definitely rising.

Whumpee cursed their luck and, coughing in their hand, quickened their pace. Just a few more streets and they reached the pharmacy, they could surely do that. Right?

By the end of the route, Whumpee was stumbling, receiving side glances from the strangers who no doubt thought they were either drunk or high. They just… couldn’t get enough air. Now, Whumpee didn’t bother hiding their cough, they swayed and braced their arm against the nearest wall, doubling over. Whumpee’s lungs felt like they were on fire, and the coughs soon turned wet. They… they needed air, fast. Whumpee tried to gulp the air in between violent fits of coughing, but they couldn’t, and the panic started slowly seeping through their being. They felt tears welling up in their eyes, black spots were dancing in their vision. Numbness started spreading through Whumpee’s body as they tried and failed to get at least a little bit of precious air inside of their spasming lungs.

Then, there was movement in their vision, and suddenly they weren’t standing anymore. Whumpee felt a slight pang of pain as their head collided with the pavement, but the wave of numbness quickly swept over them. There were sounds, many sounds. And flecks of colour, red and blue, just like the worms in their dreams…

——————

P. S.: The worms Whumpee was dreaming about (A few types of planaria worm)

[monarchthefirst]

Matt Murdock vs Frank Castle

[monarchthefirst]

Yall im scared😭😭😭💙💙💙

Screaming crying throwing up Cameron WHAT’RE YOU GONNA DO TO US?!?!

RIPPED YOUR HEARTS OUT IMMA NEED TISSUES

[monarchthefirst]

i suffer from 'men are hotter banged up' disease. unfortunately there is no cure.

Bloody and bruised >

[monarchthefirst]

'I need you.'

[monarchthefirst]

[monarchthefirst]

[monarchthefirst]

Zuko painting

[monarchthefirst]

shirt painting in progress

[monarchthefirst]

little dinosaur painting in my notebook