#I saw whumperflies

[whumpypepsigal]

Chicago Med s09e10: “Probably not a tension pneumothorax.” — “Hemo pneumo. You're bleeding into your chest.”

[justwhumptypethings]

tw: panic attacks

I saw a post recently about whumpee begging and pleading at caretakers feet for them to not leave them after lashing out and it gave me whumperflies

like. right, okay. maybe whumpee was a forced villain, or a living weapon, or something like that.

and they’re widely considered to just be a mean person. A bastard, an asshole. But they need help. They need it. And caretaker is persistent, because they’re the only one who’s willing to deal with their bullshit.

and then something pushes them over the edge, and they lash out. Screaming and yelling at caretaker worse than they ever have before. And caretaker leaves so that they don’t snap back at them. They say something like ‘give me one second’ or something, but whumpee can’t hear it over their overwhelming panic.

because they’re leaving too. The one person who was trying to help them, save them, was leaving. they’re just.. leaving. whumpee will be alone with no one to expect better from them. they’ll never get any help now.

and so they beg. they grovel, and beg, and panic- “please, please don’t leave, I promise I can be better,” like a kicked dog, because they are willing to be better. they have to be if they want help. they’ll stop with the sarcasm and the snark- anything- anything. hyperventilating, crying. they can’t be alone.

and caretaker is confused. they were never planning to abandon them.

[a-living-canvas]

I love your account so much! I’m constantly checking for updates or new stories. On that note, could you, when you have some time, write a sequal to Carmel Curls? The whumperflies from that story!

I'm glad you like my writings! I hope you enjoy this too! <333

Part 1

Caramel Curls II

"There, done."

Whumper grinned sweetly at Whumpee. He lifted them off from the changing table and put them back in the crib. Whumpee's face was stained with tears of humiliation. They couldn't do much when Whumper put the diaper on them. 

And now they were in a cute blue pyjama, with bear patterns all over it. They peered down, noticing the bump from the diaper on their pants. They felt more mortified when Whumper patted right on that spot, looking down at them with a smirk.

"Comfy now~? Baby~?"

Whumpee gritted their teeth, glaring at Whumper as they felt tears welling up in their eyes again. "I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! Let me go! You creep!"

"Aww…don't be like that. What makes my precious baby upset, hm?"

"YOU!"

Whumper chuckled, he took the teddy bear and placed it on Whumpee's chest. "Mr. Teddy wants to help you cheer up a bit."

Whumpee frowned, looking down at the stupid smile on the teddy's face as Whumper guided their tied hands to wrap around it. Now, I'm hugging it. Good.

"Get this away from my face."

Whumper ignored them, adjusting the pillow around Whumpee to make them feel more comfortable. He pulled back slightly, noticing something off about them. 

"Ah! I forgot about the ribbons…"

"Ribbons?"

Whumper walked across the room and tugged open the drawer as he took the ribbons and returned to Whumpee. He made cute little bows on the rope around Whumpee's wrists and ankles while humming softly.

"My baby looks so adorable like this…"

Whumpee sighed in frustration, "Do you think doing that would make me feel better?"

Whumper raised an eyebrow, "Who said I do that to make you feel better? It's for me."

Whumper put his hand on the bump again and Whumpee tensed up. "Get away from me!" They raised their knees to their chests but then Whumper grabbed their ankles and held it in his grip instead.

"Daddy just wants to check on you. "

Pat Pat Pat

"Hmm…is it full yet?"

Whumpee rolled their eyes. "Obviously, no. Now stop touching me!"

"But you said you need to go to the restroom earlier."

Whumpee looked at Whumper in disbelief. "I won't pee in this."

"Why not?" Whumper grabbed the bag of diapers, examining the label on the packaging. "It said here the tremendous absorption capacity up to half a day or 12 hours. And oh! The waistband prevents the formation of red marks on the baby's skin. Aww! It protects your little bum!"

Someone, please, let me out of here.

"I don't care about that! Are you nuts?!"

"Oh, certainly not, dear. But you, holding back your pee isn't very healthy you know?"

Whumper leaned down, and without a warning, rubbing his thumb in circle across Whumpee's lower belly. Whumpee flinched, feeling the urge to urinate coming back again. 

"Come on, let it flow~" Whumper taunted, chuckling sadistically as he watched Whumpee's face change to a look of despair. They both knew Whumpee needed to release it sooner or later.

"Stop…stop!"

Whumpee closed their eyes tightly, the sensation overwhelming them as Whumper played with their belly button, increasing the stimulation. "Just let it go. You would feel better, you know?"

Whumper kept rubbing their lower stomach and belly button, smiling softly as he watched Whumpee slowly crumble. Their faces were red, and they looked like a baby who suffered from constipation. 

"If you behave, I will let you sleep for a while and then we can get you ice cream."

"...Ice cream…?"

"Mhm."

Whumper smiled in satisfaction as he saw Whumpee stopped struggling. Their muscles loosened up and a look of relief could be seen on their faces. He stood straight up again, crossing his arms as he watched the diaper slowly filling up. 

"Good baby. Finally listening to your daddy, hm?

After changing the diaper again, Whumpee slept peacefully in their cribs. They weren't fighting anymore. They were just so tired. And the image of a strawberry ice cream made them feel excited for some reason. Just like a kid would.

"Shh…sleep my little baby. Daddy will protect you."

Yeah..Whumper would protect them right? They were just his little baby. They were supposed to be in his arms.

And in that moment Whumpee couldn't help but feel so…safe.

~

Part 3

@nothing-but-glitter-and-lashes @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @htavin87 @heyyitsworld @risk606

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

how do you feel about whump where a whumper removes one (or more) of a whumpee's senses? and I don't mean like sensory deprivation, I mean like permanently blinding or deafening them, cutting out their tongue, ect.

personally i enjoy whump with a happy ending where the whumpee can recover, but i definitely also enjoy this type where it is possible for the whumpee to partially recover and live a happy life, but their life and how they experience and interact with the world is also fundamentally changed as a result of their experiences, so they'll never be the person they once were.

anyway, hearing your thoughts on this would be cool!

tw: description of (fictional) violence

100/10 would recommend. I feel like you read my mind and pry into my deepest secret because this is actually one of my most favorite whump tropes that literally gives me whumperflies every time. it’s also the scenario I fantasize about every night as my cute little bedtime story.

listen, I’m okay with whump stories in which whumpee fully recovers (although it does bug me a little whenever a character just walks it off like nothing happened after they were injured), but if I have to choose, I’ll always go with the ones in which whumpee is permanently maimed. this doesn’t mean they have to be miserable for the rest of their life though. I just want them to have something permanent, whether it be scars or disabilities, to remind them of what happened, while they can still be happy after being rescued and nursed back to health (but with that permanent damage that was done to them).

whumpee having nerve damage which results in their constant twitching from years of being electrocuted by whumper? nice.

whumpee not being able to walk without canes because of what whumper did to them? lovely.

whumpee losing their hearing in one ear or being blind in one eye after the beating they took? delicious.

whumpee having to see that scar around their neck, which they got from the time whumper slit their throat, every time they look at the mirror? very good.

you know, just something that’ll remind whumpee and everybody of what happened to them. they’re free now, yes, but the constant reminder is there. love it.

I wish we saw more of this trope in whump media.

[deluxewhump]

The Blackmuir Reign

Flashback: The Truly King and Matteo Osier, before Therrin’s takeover

CW: Torture, hand/finger whump with a knife, flaying, pleading, death wish (only under the present circumstances)

-

Matteo groaned, shivering from a clammy sweat that had broken out over his body. He was sitting on the stone floor of a Muirkeep cell, his hands bound above his head by the wrists. His legs were free, and he dragged his heels along the stones, lifting his knees close to his chest as if it could protect him. Henry always paid special attention to his existing wounds, and he’d begun to pray he would find a fresh spot to play with instead. Surely it would hurt less.

“You should be grateful I keep you safe in this cell,” said the newly crowned King. Matteo still thought him beautiful, though all that youthful vitality frightened him now instead of intriguing him. He’d misread what was in the Truly Prince’s eyes all this time, it seemed.

“Do you know what they’d do to you out there if I told them you poisoned my father? He was beloved. And a weak old man, too.” The King tsked. “Surely they’d execute you. Don’t you agree?”

“Y-yes,” Matteo sobbed. He did agree, and though most of the time he dreamed of rescue or escape, these long hours with King Henry and his slow, meticulous torture made him wish he had an execution date to look forward to. The knife slipped another quarter inch under his skin, along the bone, and he screamed through gritted teeth.

“Oh, come now,” Henry cooed. “I know that hurts you, Matteo. But you owe me more than a finger, I think. You took my father from me.”

“Please,” Matteo sobbed. Blood streamed down his shackled wrist. “Take it then. I accept. Take it and let me serve you.”

“How would you wish to serve me now?” Henry asked softly, pausing the progress of his knife and bringing his face close to Matteo’s. “Tell me.”

“In any way you wish,” Matteo answered, breathless and exhausted as if he’d run a mile at a full sprint. He’d said something similar all those months ago in the Truly tent as they traveled north, when Prince Henry’s attention had thrilled him to his core. What a lovesick puppy he had been.

“That was your mistake, wasn’t it? Your eagerness. Your ambition. What makes you think I want you?”

“My ambitions were yours! I served only you! Henry…”

“No, no. You will address me as Your Grace,” the King reminded him. “I will not hear my name in your mouth, Matteo Osier. You’re a disgrace to your house and your name. You’re not loyal to me, any more than you were my father. You’re a self serving, vain little creature who has quite overstepped your title. But you will learn humility.”

The King sawed like he was skinning a pelt from a rabbit, pulling the skin from bone. Matteo wailed with the last of his strength, sagging limply when the knife came away with another piece of him. Only a finger, he thought helplessly. One little digit, not even anything vital. Only a finger and it hurt like this…A wave of dizziness took him and he worried he would be sick.

“Peace, now,” said the King, wiping his face with a fine cloth. “You have nine more, after all.”

Matteo didn’t know if it was meant as consolation or a threat. He had never wished for anything in his life like he wished for his elder brother now. Even if it meant he was accompanied by their cocky, boorish ward.

But Saxon didn’t know where he was. Nor did his father, his mother, or any number of nobility north or south that might lift a finger to help him. No one did.

-

Taglist

@highwaywhump , @melancholy-in-the-morning , @quirkykayleetam , @whumpsday , @redwhump , @myhusbandsasemni @chai-and-cherries ,

@whumpthisway , @top-hat-aye , @foggy-whump, @whumpcreations, @mylifeisonthebookshelf , @inpainandsuffering , @extrabitterbrain, @pumpkin-spice-whump

@thecyrulik , @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump , @finder-of-rings , @whump-tr0pes , @the-monarch-whumperfly , @cursedandtired , @shydragonrider ,

@cupcakes-and-pain , @whumpwillow , @whither-wander-whump , @whumpilicious , @literally-frog ,

@darkthingshappen, @kixngiggles , @orchidscript , @ramadiiiisme , @prodigal-zoe, @robins-whump @cicatrix-energy, @unicornscotty , @wolfeyedwitch

@heystreetblues, @castielamigos-whump-side-blog , @annablogsposts , @leyswhumpdump , @distinctlywhumpthing

@handsinmotion , @gr8butnotstr8

[painsandconfusion]

Wrong Place, Wrong Time

Prompts and starters A collaboration with @wormwriting

[Prompt Masterpost]

“How much did you hear?”

Whumpee crouched and trying to stay quiet until they can slip away. Then the cool barrel of a gun pressing against the back of their head. Bonus for ~click~

“You know what happens now, right?”

Whumpee stumbling home, breath ragged and body in shock still. They stare at the liquor bottle - and without thinking, uncap it and start downing as much fire as they can stand. They don’t want to remember what they just saw. For everyone’s sake. 

Whumper shoving a bottle against Whumpee’s chest. “You’re going to want to forget that. I’ll check back in tomorrow to make sure you did.” 

Walked into the wrong bar at the wrong time - now they’re a vampire’s lunch.

“Don’t look at me like that. You’re the one who fucked up everything. Now I need to clean up your mess.”

The shaky hand Whumpee presses to their mouth to try to stifle their echoing breaths. Eyes squeezed shut so hard that they might press the memory of what they saw out of their mind.

“How’s about you and me go for a little walk, hm?”

“Sorry kid - boss said no loose ends.”

Whumpee stepping around the corner to see people and blood and heads slowly turning toward them. Seeing them seeing what just happened. Seeing the blood. Seeing them seeing the blood. Whumpee slooooooowwwwwly steps back, eyes stricken with horror-

“Can’t talk without a tongue, right?”

Whumpee driving in the middle of nowhere - how were they supposed to know it would be fifty miles to the nearest gas station? At least they can cal-......they don’t have signal either…

Whumpee flinching at each echoing footstep, tucking further back into their hiding spot. “I know you’re theeeeerrreeeee~ Come out come ouuuut~”

“You know this isn’t personal, right?”

And escaped whumpee bumping into Whumper completely randomly years later. The  s t a r e. Aaaaaaand run-

“What are you so scared for? I don’t gotta kill you~”

“Wh-y me?” “You were the easiest to grab.”

Stepping into a bear trap. 

Whumpee getting mistaken for a target. Tortured in their place while pleading all the while that they got the wrong mark. Of course, no one believes them.

“Know what you are? A liability.”

The random guy the villain shoots in a bar just to make a point. 

“Don’t. Move.”

[Prompt Masterpost]

(tags: @prisonerwhump @whumpawink @mabledonut @happy-little-sadist @paleassprince @distinctlywhumpthing @wibbly-wobbly-whump @batfacedliar-yetagain @suspicious-whumping-egg @wormwriting @villainsvictim @throwawaywhumper @wild-selenite-caffine @whumpasaurus101 @thecitythatdoesntsleep @whumpworld @pinkieglitterheart @whumpberry-cookie @rainbows-and-whumperflies @a-galactic-fox @shywhumpauthor @cyberneticwhump @bumpwhump @hold-back-on-the-comfort @veyroswin @whumping-seven-days-a-week @whumpingisfun @suffering-and-misery @definitely-not-a-seagull-i-swear @yetanotheraltwhumpblog @whump-queen @a-whumped-tea @whumpsday @sonder35)

As always, lmk if you want to be added or removed from any tag lists!

(a few of these arent working so if wibbly-wobbly-whump or hold-back-on-the-comfort changed their blogs please lmk <3

[chaotic-orphan]

A Month of Whump: Winter Whumperland Day 8 - John McClane

Russian roulette // forced to watch // held hostage

LISTEN DIE HARD IS MY FAVOURITE MOVIE AND THERE IS JUST SOMETHING ABOUT HOW HE IS ALWAYS COVERED IN BLOOD THAT GAVE SEVEN-YEAR-OLD-ME WHUMPERFLIES OKAY!!!

Also I know it’s late, but time is relative, okay?

*~*~*~*~*

“I knew you’d come,” Whumper said with a smile, but Whumpee wasn't paying attention to Whumper. Instead their gaze was locked onto Caretaker who was being held by two of Whumper's henchmen behind where Whumper sat. Whumpee swallowed as they watched realisation dawn on Caretaker’s face. Black blood dried from his left nostril, caked and flaking down his lips. He had dark red bags under his eyes, that contrasted with his too pale face. A giant black bruise took up the bulk of his left cheek, his bottom lip split open.

He barely even looked like Caretaker anymore. Just a shell of who Caretaker was. It had only been two days… the guilt flooded Whumpee the moment Caretaker met their eyes.

“Whumpee no! No!” Caretaker yelled, wild green eyes angry and glaring helpless at Whumpee as he struggled against two of Whumper’s henchmen holding him. “I told you to run!”

“I couldn’t leave you here,” Whumpee said, voice quiet and cold, switching their gaze to glare at Whumper. “Not with them.”

“I do love a good reunion,” Whumper said, standing to greet Whumpee. Whumpee was stiff as Whumper walked towards them. Caretaker was anything but, struggling furiously in the corner his hands tied behind his back, the henchmen struggling to keep Caretaker down.

“Don’t touch them!” Caretaker growled, then suddenly threw his weight to the left and knocked one of the Henchmen into the wall. Caretaker was about to do the same when he saw Whumper grab Whumpee by the throat and slam them back against the wall.

Caretaker froze in place, half hunched ready to pounce on the other henchman but all he could do was look at Whumper’s hand around Whumpee’s throat.

Whumper glanced back at Caretaker knowingly, while Whumpee glared at Whumper and grabbed their wrist with both hands.

“Caretaker, do I have to explain to you again? Who holds the power here, do you need a demonstration old friend?”

“Whumper—”

Whumper sucked in a breath and clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Wrong answer, Caretaker.”

“Wait, Whumper!”

Whumper blocked Caretaker’s view of Whumpee with his body, smiling down at Whumpee like this was a professional hazard.

Whumpee threw their body forward and got two inches of leverage before Whumper hummed and slammed them back, their head smacking off the wall.

“Whumper! Stop!”

Whumper’s right hook connected with Whumpee’s cheek and they cried out. Whumpee could still hear Caretaker’s struggles behind Whumper, even over the sound of their own as they tried to push Whumper off of them.

Another punch went to the bridge of Whumpee’s nose, then their jaw, then their lips and then again against their cheek. Whumper released Whumpee’s throat with the final punch and let Whumpee slid down the wall sideways, cradling a hand to their cheek.

He didn’t let Whumpee slide all the way down, grabbing them in the middle of their hoodie and half holding them up.

“Now, Caretaker, is that enough blood for you to learn your mistake or do we need more?”

“You’re a fucking bastard, Whumper!” Caretaker yelled, grunting with the effort trying to get free of the hands on him.

Whumper looked down at Whumpee apologetically. Then he grabbed Whumpee’s head and slammed it against his knee. Whumpee fell to the ground crying out and then gasped when Whumper slammed a foot on their ribs.

“Hurt me! Hurt me, not them!” Caretaker raged, helpless tears gathering behind his eyes. Whumper pressed his heel down harder on Whumpee’s ribs who blubbered, before turning their head as they gurgled a spit bubble of blood before spitting out a glob onto the floor. “Whumper please!”

“Ahh!” Whumper exclaimed happily, immediately taking his foot off of Whumpee’s chest and turning to face Caretaker. “There we go, and they say you can’t teach an old dog new manners.”

“Tricks—” Whumpee corrected, slowly getting to all fours.

Whumper turned and kicked Whumpee to the ground again without looking at them, instead drinking in Caretaker’s struggles.

“Mmm, I have some tricks, Caretaker. You’d know all about that wouldn’t you? I learned some of them from you after all,” Whumper said, something simmering behind the words, looking directly into Caretaker’s fury filled eyes. “Y’know, Whumpee, there was a time when Caretaker protected me this fiercely. A time before you came along.”

“It’s not Whumpee’s fault you turned into a psycho, Whumper.”

Whumper’s nostrils flared as he smiled. “Why, Caretaker, do you want to take the credit for it?”

Caretaker didn’t say anything, just stared at the face of his best friend and saw a stranger looking back at him. Whumper hmphed softly at Caretaker’s silence then turned back to Whumpee who was on all fours again.

Whumper leaned down and grabbed the back of Whumpee’s hoodie, dragging them to their feet with ease even as Whumpee struggled.

“That’s it, it’s alright, come on now, we’re going to play a game. That’s it, settle down now,” Whumper said shoving Whumpee down into a chair. Whumpee fixed their hoodie with a huff, wiping the blood from their nose on the back of their hand. They never took their eyes off Whumper as he walked around the small square table, only big enough to fit two people sitting at it. Whumper took the chair opposite Whumpee where he was sitting when Whumpee first arrived.

Whumper grinned at Whumpee when he finally sat down.

“God, you look so much like an old friend of ours,” Whumper said, looking over his shoulder at Caretaker. “Do you remember Friend? They always had that wildness to them, I only noticed now with the smeared blood and the murderous glint in your eyes. Caretaker was the one to put them down,” Whumper said turning his attention back to Whumpee and winking.

“I don’t care,” said Whumpee, voice cracking after being strangled. “Me for Caretaker, that’s the deal.”

“Whumpee—”

Whumper clicked his fingers in the air and wagged his finger at Caretaker’s protest. “Caretaker I swear to god I will gag you if you interrupt us again. Do you understand? The last word I want from you is yes or no.”

Caretaker let out a begrudging yes, and Whumper smiled again. “Good. Danny, can you get something to gag him with, I feel like we’ll need it before we are finished here.”

Whumper turned his attention to Whumpee again, a dazzling smile on his face as he interlocked his fingers on the table.

“Now, Whumpee. Your deal is a good one, however, I don’t like it because it’s only half good. Either I lose Caretaker or I keep Caretaker but that means I don’t one of you.”

“You can keep one of us though,” Whumpee argued.

Whumper smiled. “Yes. I know,” he replied calmly, then leaned forward, eyes twinkling with mischief. “But I have a better deal.”

Whumpee’s eyes flashed to Caretaker behind Whumper who shook his head before settling on Whumper again.

“Okay. What’s your deal?”

“My deal is far more favourable for both sides, Whumpee. I propose a game… a game of chicken you could say. If you win, I’ll let you and Caretaker go no strings attached.”

Whumpee’s heart pounded against their chest, hope fluttering it faster, harder, louder. They glanced at Caretaker again, whose suspicious eyes were focused on Whumper.

Whumpee swallowed. “And if you win?”

“If I win I get both of you.”

“No,” Caretaker said immediately. “No. Absolutely not, Whumpee walk away. Whumper—”

“Ah! Danny, just in time, shut Caretaker up would you?”

Whumpee stood up but a hand on each of their shoulders forced them to sit back down again. “Whumpee, don’t! Whatever it is don— argh— mmph!”

Whumpee shot up again but was forced back down and the chair pushed in further to the table keeping them sitting. The table edge pressed painfully against their ribs.

Whumper smiled at Whumpee. “Whumpee, I could just as easily take you both right now by force. You’re outnumbered. I could have killed you when you walked in the door but I didn’t, did I? Do you know why I didn’t Whumpee?”

Whumpee swallowed, eyes going back to Caretaker who huffed furiously around the gag.

“Because you’re a fucking monster?” Whumpee asked, raising their brows and dragging their gaze back to Whumper’s stupid smiling face.

“No. It’s because I invited you here for a negotiation in good faith. If you like we don’t have to play and I can just take you both—”

“No,” Whumpee said quickly at the same time Caretaker mumbled out something like a no behind Whumper.

Whumper smiled and sat back into his chair, smile turned smirk now. “So you agree to play then?”

“Yes,” Whumpee said again, not looking at Caretaker who cried out against the gag again.

“Good,” Whumper said. “Very good. Here’s the game.”

Whumper pulled out a revolver that Whumpee had only seen Whumper use once. Whumpee flinched back but didn’t go very far. Whumper grinned as he cocked the gun at Whumpee and Caretaker screamed and struggled with renewed energy against the Henchmen holding him back.

Whumper let out a soft laugh. “Just kidding. God, Caretaker, it’s so easy to rile you up.”

Whumper held the hammer and pulled the trigger before slowly lowering it until the gun wasn’t live anymore. Then he pushed his thumb against the ejector rod and took the round out of the chamber. Whumper then slowly turned the cylinder, and repeated this until all six bullets dropped rhythmically onto the table between them. The entire time Whumper kept eye contact with Whumpee, a soft smirk on his face as he watched Whumpee swallow back the lump in their throat.

“—umph—r—nn—” Caretaker screamed against the gag until the last bullet fell from the cylinder and into Whumper’s awaiting hand.

“You know this game Whumpee?” Whumper asked, cocking an eyebrow at Whumpee.

Whumpee’s throat was suddenly dry, so they swallowed again, before they replied nervously: “I thought you said we were going to play chicken.”

“A version of it,” Whumper said with a shrug. “Russian roulette. Caretaker, Friend and I used to play it all the time as kids.”

Caretaker had tired themselves out, now he stood limp in the hold of the henchmen, glaring daggers at Whumper. Even his stare didn’t have any real bite left to it. Whumpee looked at him with surprise written all over their face.

“Back when Caretaker was fun,” Whumper said, sliding one bullet back into the cylinder and spinning it with the palm of their hand before stopping it and sliding the cylinder back into place. Whumper grinned at Whumpee as he drew the hammer back, loading the chamber.

“I’m a good sport, Whumpee,” said Whumper handing Whumpee the gun. “You can go first.”

Whumpee went to grab the gun from Whumper but froze when they heard another gun cocking in the room. Whumper’s smile turned razor sharp.

“Just in case you get any ideas… if you try to kill me, Caretaker dies too.”

“I got it,” Whumpee said with an edge in their voice. Sick of all the threats Whumper had made in the last five minutes.

“Mmmm. Eager! Wonderful. I knew you’d be an interesting games partner.”

Caretaker cried out when Whumpee put the gun to their own head, swallowing hard. A shiver ran down Whumpee’s spine as they felt the weight of the gun in their hand.

If the shot was in the chamber they would be dead.

This would be it.

They never imagined they’d die from a stupid bet.

God this was so stupid, what were they doing?

Whumpee’s hand started to shake as the realisation slowly dawned on them. They looked at Caretaker who shook his head furiously at them, telling them not to do it.

Whumpee licked their lips trying to get some moisture back in their dry mouth enough to speak. “If I don’t do this, Whumper gets us anyways,” it was an explanation. An excuse that fell from their lips. “Thank you for everything.”

Caretaker cried out again when Whumpee pulled the trigger.

They let out the breath they were holding with a gasp as they dropped the gun to the table, trembling all over. Wild eyes went to Caretaker who had his eyes closed until he heard the gun clatter.

Whumper laughed and grabbed Whumpee’s shaking hands. “Look at that! That adrenaline spike, Whumpee! That’s how you know you’re alive. I barely get it anymore. Watch.”

As soon as the words left his lips, Whumper had the gun in his hand, while his other still held Whumpee’s and pulled the trigger without even blinking.

That stunned Whumpee more than their own turn had.

Whumper grinned and put the gun back on the table, then held out their hand. Whumpee’s eyes went down following Whumper’s movement but true to their word, not even a muscle twitched in Whumper’s hands.

“See why it’s fun now, Whumpee?” Whumper asked again, and Whumpee’s mouth went dry again, realising it was their turn. Again.

They had a one in four chance.

One in four.

25%.

Whumpee didn’t want to bet their life on the one in four chance that when they pulled the trigger they would die.

And yet, after seeing Whumper do it so casually, Whumpee found the familiar weight of the cool metal revolver in their hand once again. Caretaker mumbled out a pathetic “nnnuh” against the gag, but this time a strange calm overcame Whumpee as they pressed the barrel against their head.

They found Caretaker’s hopeless eyes and offered a smile.

“One in four. 25% chance I die, Caretaker. 75% chance I live.”

“Look at you, Whumpee,” Whumper cooed. “Playing the odds. I am so happy you decided to join me today. You are magnificent.”

Whumpee didn’t close their eyes this time.

They pulled the trigger.

The hammer shot against empty air and the recoil sent Whumpee’s hand back away from their head, letting their hand follow the movement to place the heavy hunk of metal onto the table.

“Safe again,” Whumper said, clicking his tongue against his teeth. Then he took the gun and Caretaker cried into the gag.

“-nuf! -umpr- s’enuf!”

Whumper paused this time. His eyes going to Whumpee but looking passed them.

“Someone take their gag off would you?”

Whumpee watched as someone drew the cloth down from around Caretaker’s lips and he let out a sigh of relief.

“Whumper stop this. Please. I can’t watch this. I can’t watch you die!”

Whumper didn’t move for a moment. “You mean Whumpee. You can’t watch Whumpee die.”

“I mean either of you,” Caretaker pleaded, voice genuine. “Please. Don’t do this.”

Whumper arched a brow at Whumpee. “Whumpee. Do you forfeit?”

“No,” said Whumpee. Whumper smiled.

“Sorry Caretaker. No can do.”

Whumper pulled the trigger.

Whumpee started forward, their entire body jerking at the sound. Whumper grinned at Whumpee and put the gun back on the table.

“What’re the chances Whumpee, eh?”

“Stop this! Stop! Whumpee! This is madness. It’s 50/50, you can’t logic your way out of that. Either you die or you don’t, please. Don’t. Whumpee please. Whumper! Listen to me, this is crazy.”

“I will gag you again, Caretaker. This is Whumpee’s decision.”

The words seemed so far away, muted from the blood drumming against Whumpee’s skull. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

“Fuck,” Whumpee breathed softly. Whumper’s eyes glistened when Whumpee raised their head to meet Whumper’s gaze. “You let me go first.”

“I let you go first,” Whumper repeated with a self-satisfied sigh. His grin grew to a knowing smirk, knowing this was how it would turn out all things going well. “You should have played the odds from the beginning Whumpee.”

Whumpee swallowed, eyes searching for something, something in the back of their brain. Some way they could still win, get Caretaker and themselves out of this.

Whumper let them go first. They were an idiot. The only way they could have won was to let Whumper go first, then if the game played out as it did and they came to the second last bullet Whumper would have had to stop the game and let Whumpee and Caretaker go.

Fuck!

FUCK!

Whumpee reached for the gun. Caretaker cried out. Whumpee savoured the look of surprise on Whumper’s face.

“Fifty-fifty,” said Whumpee, not trying to hide how bad their hand shook as they pressed the cool metal to their temple.

“Whumpee!”

“You’re bluffing,” Whumper said with a smile, but there was doubt behind his words. A game of chicken, Whumper had said. The game only really started when there was two rounds left unfired.

“Either I get free Caretaker and I, or I die and Caretaker—”

“Gets taken in by me,” Whumper said with a laugh. Whumpee narrowed their eyes at him. “Come on Whumpee, if you’re gone I have to take my anger out on someone.”

“You said we’re playing a game of chicken,” Whumpee argued. “If I pull the trigger and die then I didn’t lose.”

“Hmph,” Whumper mused, and maybe it was the crazy talking but Whumpee thought they sounded impressed. "If you're dead how would you know I'd keep my word?"

Whumpee narrowed their eyes and opened their mouth to reply, but Caretaker was the one to break the silence. “Whumpee, Whumpee look at me! Look at me!”

Whumpee fought to keep their gaze trained on Whumper’s face as he chewed on Whumpee’s words.

“Whumpee!”

Whumpee looked at Caretaker with sympathetic eyes. Caretaker had tear marks trailing down his cheeks which stirred up a wealth of guilt in Whumpee’s gut.

“Don’t you dare sacrifice your life for me.”

Whumpee swallowed, trying and failing to keep their voice even. “It’s my life—”

“If you do this and you die, you’re fine! What about me?! I’ll have to carry that guilt—”

“It’s my decision.”

“Really building the suspense here, Whumpee,” Whumper mused, “I’m on the edge of my seat. What a performance! You can pull that trigger now and die, or you can pull it and force my hand to let you both go. What’s worse Whumpee? Dying or living under my care again, hmm?”

Whumpee hesitated.

Whumper continued, “after all the lengths and hoops Caretaker had to jump through to get you out, you just walk back into my arms. Could you live with that guilt Whumpee?”

“Don’t listen to him, Whumpee,” Caretaker said. “He’s lying.”

Whumper’s smile was knowing as he spoke again, “we both know I’m not lying Whumpee. Caretaker’s fate was sealed from the moment he betrayed me, and he wanted you to be out. To be free from me. You come back here, you beat me at my own game you both walk free, the only thing holding you back from this happily ever after is that trigger there, with your index finger resting on it.”

“Whumpee don’t! Please. It’s not worth it.”

“Do it Whumpee. I know you want to.”

Whumpee’s hand moved faster than they thought it would as they aimed the revolver at the henchman with the gun on Caretaker. Whumper laughed at the turn of events as the henchman behind Whumpee grabbed the revolver and snatched it from their hand, keeping Whumpee restrained all the while.

“No! You fuck! Get off me—” Whumpee cried as the henchman handed the gun to Whumper. Whumper took the revolver in his hand with a small surprised laugh.

“I knew you had it in you Whumpee, but to be fair, I don’t think I would’ve pulled the trigger myself. Let’s see, shall we if you would have died or not.”

Whumper turned their body and pointed the revolver between Caretaker’s ear and the wall and squeezed the trigger. Caretaker didn’t flinch.

Whumpee did.

The chamber was empty.

The chamber was empty... Whumpee could have done it. They could have freed Caretaker, they could have freed themselves if only they had the fucking nerve of it.

“Whumpee,” Caretaker said. “It’s okay Whumpee. I wouldn’t have done it either, Whumpee. Whumpee?”

“Were they all empty?” Whumpee asked, voice blank and devoid of any emotion.

Whumper smiled. “Of course they weren’t. Watch.”

Whumper pulled the trigger again and this time Caretaker flinched and fell as the shot went off right at his ear, knocking his centre of balance off. Caretaker fell like a stone but was stopped by the Henchmen from falling flat on his face.

Whumpee started when they saw the blood trickle from Caretaker’s ear, furiously pawing at the henchman holding them back.

“You fucking dick!” Whumpee cried as Whumper reloaded his revolver whistling quite happy to himself. Whumpee twisted and turned and tried to get the arms holding them off so they could scratch Whumper’s eyes out of his stupid fucking skull.

When Whumper was finished loading the gun he checked the chamber and lowered it so Whumpee could see there was a round loaded before cocking the gun and pointing it at Caretaker’s head.

Whumpee immediately stilled and Whumper stopped whistling.

“There we go," Whumper cooed. His voice no longer jovial and mocking, but back to Whumper. The scary Whumper that had kidnapped Whumpee and tortured them everyday. The cold calculating monster. "You haven’t forgotten your training, of course, you’ll have to re-learn some of it, but I think this arrangement will be good for all of us. Something new.”

Caretaker was still half held up by the Henchmen on either side of him, face pale, eyes unfocused. He wouldn’t be able to move suddenly if he had to, and Whumpee was too tired to fight anymore, the adrenaline leaving their body in the same rush that it came with until Whumpee was deflated, body exhausted.

Whumper uncocked the gun, drawing the hammer up and clicking the safety on before holstering it again beneath his jacket. He walked around the table to where Whumpee was still held sitting on the chair and patted Whumpee’s cheeks lightly.

“No need to be a sore loser, Whumpee, you agreed to my terms. Fair is fair,” Whumper’s hand tightened on Whumpee’s cheeks tilting their head up to look Whumper in the eye. “I get you both. Bring Caretaker to the car, Whumpee’s coming with me and Danny here.”

One of the Henchmen handed Whumper an extra pair of handcuffs that he turned over in his hand and clicked open, grinning down at Whumpee. Whumpee was dragged to their feet, Whumper taking Whumpee’s wrist and slapping the metal cuff around their wrist until it bit into Whumpee’s skin. Whumper turned Whumpee until their back was to him and tightened the other cuff unkindly tight.

To add insult to injury, Whumper pulled on the taut chain yanking Whumpee back unbalanced into Whumper’s chest.

The perfect place for Whumper to whisper: “can’t have you running away again, can I?”

Whumpee remained stubbornly silent.

“Whumpee, come on now, the silent treatment? Maybe I should get you a leash and a collar, like a dog so you won't be able to run, hmm? You know, this little game of ours is only drawn even now.”

Whumpee stilled at the words. “What?”

“I’ll explain on the way to the car,” Whumper said, pushing Whumpee forward to walk out the door, hand on Whumpee’s upper arm forcing them on. “I’m an easy man to please, Whumpee. I like to be entertained. That’s why I got you, you were so malleable and vulnerable. You hung onto every word I said just because I gave you attention…”

Whumpee bristled at the reminder of how they were before they met Whumper but stayed quiet, allowing Whumper to finish his little Villainous, victory speech.

“Now could I have chosen someone else? Yes, but they wouldn’t have the brain you had Whumpee. I could tell you were like me from the moment I laid eyes on you, and today has proven it. You were bored with life before me, and you needed something to entertain you. Something to fight against, something to live for.”

“So I took you. We have our fun, but you beat me. You and your clever little cunning brain found a way to defeat me, you used my best friend's kindness against me and you managed to escape.”

“That wasn’t a game,” Whumpee hissed, “you were torturing me.”

“And wasn’t it so fun? I bet you’re just dying to see what I have in store for you now, but our Russian roulette makes us even. I guess you could say that this is the start of our third game together; two worthy opponents, battling it out against each other. Except this time,” Whumper said opening the boot of the car and shoving Whumpee in. Whumpee landed awkwardly on their shoulder, hands restrained uselessly behind them as they stared up at a grinning Whumper.

“This time, I don’t have a friend you can use against me. They’ll be right there with you, a new contender. Extra fun. Aren’t you excited, Whumpee? Maybe this time the roles are reversed and now I have a friend I can use against you. Get comfortable, I've moved my little estate and bought some land in the country. It's going to be a long, long ride.”

Before Whumpee could reply Whumper slammed the boot closed and they were buried in darkness. The sound of the empty chamber firing no bullet replaying in their mind like a broken record.

"Caretaker," Whumpee whispered into the darkness, "I'm so sorry."

*~*~*~*~*

@amonthofwhump

[whumpbug]

Hello, Bug! I hope you are doing okay!

I’m here for the emoji game :)

Could you please combine ⚡️(scared of thunderstorms) and 🤒 (needs to be looked after)?

- anon with whumperflies :)

anon, it always makes me so happy to see you in my inbox! i hope this is what you were looking for!

since my last fic was kind of angsty and ambiguous, i decided to make this one pure fluff with these two boys as their relationship slowly becomes something more than a friendship......

•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

“Archie? Archie, come on.. where are you? I know you’re in my apartment,” Simon called out, swinging open his bathroom door to check behind it. 

The window had been cracked open when he came back from work. Unless he was being robbed, which, unfortunately wasn’t too far-fetched, the only other person that would be in his apartment was Archie.

It was.. strange. Archie didn’t usually hide from Simon when he stopped by. When he dropped in, it was usually for a reason, and that reason tended to be rather urgent.

This was utterly unlike Archie. 

Simon padded into his bedroom, scanning for any sign of his friend when a loud crack of thunder sounded through the room.

He didn’t think anything of it, until he heard a high-pitched whimper coming from inside his closet.

“Archie?”

Simon tilted his head and paused. He made his way to the door and carefully slid it open and-- oh.

Archie was curled into a tight ball, pressed as far into the corner as he could possibly be. His hands were clasped around his ears and he was visibly trembling. 

Simon sighed.

“Hey, Archie? Can you look at me?” He ducked into the closet and knelt in front of him.

Archie lifted his head and stared at him, wide-eyed, and slowly brought his hands down from his ears.

“Simon,” He whispered breathlessly. He immediately burst into tears, throwing himself into Simon’s chest and clinging tightly to him. “It’s so.. so loud..”

Without missing a beat, he wrapped his arms around Archie and pulled him close. He frowned.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.. I’m right here..” He murmured, rubbing gentle circles into Archie’s back. Archie let out a pathetic whimper.

Simon never knew that Archie was afraid of the thunder but.. well, it checked out. He did have enhanced hearing after all. But Simon had seen Archie patrol through all kinds of weather, storms included, and he never seemed too bothered by it. Archie was too good at hiding his discomfort sometimes. It was.. concerning.

He supposed today it had been all too much.

Suddenly, more thunder cracked in the sky and Archie yelped as if he had been struck. His hands flew up to his ears and he buried his face into the crook of Simon’s shoulder. Simon cupped a protective hand around the back of Archie's head and shushed soothingly.

“Shhh.. it's okay.. I’m right here..” He hummed. 

Archie sobbed.

Simon didn’t have super hearing, but he was no stranger to overstimulation. He knew all too well the tear-inducing overwhelm that Archie was going through, and, to be fair, it was probably worse than Simon was imagining.

“I know.. I’m sorry..” He whispered, bringing his own hands to gently cover Archie’s over his ears. He tilted his head up.

Archie sniffled. “Simon.. I can’t.. It’s.. it’s so loud.. It hurts..”

Simon thumbed a tear away from Archie’s cheek and leaned over to press a kiss to the crown of his head. Archie immediately melted under the touch, letting his eyes flutter close and his head fall into Simon’s shoulder once again.

More than anything, Simon knew Archie needed someone there. Someone to remind him that he was safe, and that it would pass. 

Considering all the other things Simon did for Archie, that wouldn’t be a problem at all.

“I know I know.. how about we get you a warm bath and then we can go from there?” Simon suggested, steadily patting Archie’s trembling back.

Archie feebly nodded, and soon the two were standing and making their way to the small bathroom.

The thunder had begun to die down a bit, but Archie was still shaken. Simon saw the tension in his body, the way his shoulders were hunched and his eyebrows were pinched together. 

He seemed exhausted. He seemed fully at his limit.

Once Simon started the tap for the bath and tested the water, he rubbed a gentle hand over Archie’s shoulder blades and shut the door behind him.

In the meantime, Simon shut all the windows and doors to help muffle the sound of the rain falling. He idly began making a pot of hot chocolate while waiting for Archie to finish up and get dressed. 

It was interesting. Simon had taken care of Archie in far more perilous situations with far more dire consequences, yet it seemed the mundane problems incapacitated Archie the most.

In other words, Archie could walk off a bullet wound, but loud sounds had him down for the count.

Simon supposed he understood. Still, he made Archie a promise when they first met. That he would do anything in his power to keep Vigil up and running. Sometimes that meant making hot cocoa and putting Empire Strikes Back on the TV at half volume.

Archie emerged about thirty minutes later with his hair damp and some of Simon’s clothes thrown on. They were about a size too big, and the plaid pajama pants were bunched at his ankles. Simon found it terribly endearing.

“The bath help at all?” Simon asked, placing the steaming mugs on the coffee table and settling into the couch.

Archie only offered a nod before beelining his way to the couch. He practically leapt into Simon’s lap, immediately wrapping every limb around him.

He let out a small, muffled whine and pressed his face into the crook of Simon’s shoulder. 

Simon huffed a small laugh and reciprocated the hug, tucking Archie’s head beneath his chin and tracing wide circled across his back. Archie was already melting under the touch; the tension in his shoulders drained away like being wrung out of a sponge.

The solution, it seemed, was cuddles. Simon couldn’t say he was surprised, but he definitely didn’t think Archie would feel comfortable being so affectionate. Still, he had no complaints. None at all.

Simon continued rhythmically rubbing his back and shoulders, feeling a little more stiffness dissipate with every pass.

Soon enough, Archie's breathing began to even out and his head slipped a little bit into Simon’s chest. Simon gathered him up in his arms once again and pulled the blanket over them both. He smiled softly and pressed a kiss to Archie’s temple.

It was then that he knew. Archie didn’t need to be bleeding or broken for Simon to want to take care of him. He was content just being by his side, through thick and thin.

The movie played on, and the two slept.

•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

[whatwhump]

Ex-Villain Whumpee: Pt. 4!

Hello lovely whump community! I apologize for how long this took me; I’m in school so it can be hard to find time to write sometimes. :) 

Anywho, thank you for all of the encouragement for this story! I’m excited to announce this will be an ongoing series! I’m not sure for how long, but what I anticipated as being only a few posts I think has potential to be a larger arc. I’m really excited to dive into these character’s relationship dynamics and plan to use all of my favorite whump tropes! I’ve got some pretty evil fun ideas in the works. ;) My goal is to update this story bi-weekly. 

This is by no means my best work because I’m just doing this for fun. I hope you don’t mind and still walk away with whumperflies! 

**For list of character names/roles as well as Parts 1-3, see the previous post here**

TW: whipping, torture, beating, self-harm reference, suicidal thoughts (of the passive ideation variety), severe self-esteem issues; bad caretaker

“I. Won’t. Break.” 

Despite their diminutive stature, Charlie towered over Alex as they writhed against restraints on the table of Eric Goodgrave's torture chamber interrogation room. 

Charlie stared down at their victim grimly. “You will. You have to,” they responded matter-of-factly. 

Both of them were sweating beneath the bright, hot lights. They were going on hour three of their little dance, now. Charlie still held the whip but it now dangled lifelessly beside them. They simply stared down their victim. Cool. Calm. Collected. 

Alex–lying on their stomach–strained their neck to glare back at them, practically seething with rage. The anger protected them; as long as they held on to the fury deep within, it helped distract them from the excruciating burning all across their bare back. Yes, inside that room and beyond, anger protected them from the brutal realities of life as a hero. 

Charlie began the interrogation in a suit with a buttoned-up white dress shirt. By now, though, they had abandoned the blazer and rolled up their sleeves. It struck Alex as a strange juxtaposition. Here they were, being torn apart by this…this psychopath, as if they had just arrived home from their 9 to 5 to find the dog had peed in the house and were slightly irritated.

“Tell me where the team is,” Charlie murmured, slowly raising the whip up off the ground in a warning. 

Alex wanted the suffering to stop more than anything; they’d already passed out–twice–and hadn’t had anything to eat or drink in at least two days. But not more than they wanted to keep their teammates safe. No, they cared about them too much. They would die for them, there was no doubt in their mind. Alex scowled; unfortunately, although they wished to spit right in Charlie’s stupid face as they had at the start of the session, their parched mouth could no longer produce any saliva. I think I might die here, they thought to themselves…

That’s when they saw it. How hadn’t they seen it before?! 

Charlie’s dress shirt had shifted just enough to reveal a tattoo on their collarbone—a tattoo of a sparrow…the symbol of the hero's resistance. Identical to the tattoo they had as well! 

A roguish smile crossed Alex’s battered face. 

“So…what’s it like to be a traitor?” Charlie’s brows furrowed in confusion. 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Your defection from the Hero’s League, silly!” Charlie’s face flashed with surprise momentarily before they returned to their stoic expression. 

“I think the blood loss is getting to you.” 

“Come on! Spill the tea!” cried Alex. Charlie tightened their grip on the whip and took a menacing step forward. 

“Ughhh–FINE, Mopey-Pants,” they said rolling their eyes. “Lucky for you I’m a good guesser. Hmmm….let’s see. You…stole documents with sensitive information?” 

Charlie sighed. “Stop this. Just spit it out already. There’s no other way you’re getting out of this.”

“Ok, not that one, then. Ummmm…failed a dangerous mission that resulted in the deaths of thousands?  Yikes, that’s definitely a big no-no! How about…unencrypted the hero’s security system? Staged a coup?”

Charlie was starting to get red in the face. Of course, this only provoked Alex to push further. 

“What about damaging top-secret technology?” 

“Alex–”

“Oooh oooh, I know! You shared your secret identity? Took an extra tray of tater-tots in the cafeteria?” 

“STOP,” Charlie exclaimed, adjusting their stance uncomfortably. They weren’t used to these things not going their way, of not having total control. The grin on Alex’s face spread even wider. 

“What about just sucking at doing your job, plain and simple?” 

“I will give you twenty more lashes if you don’t–”

“I’ve got it! You fell in love with a co-worker!” 

Alex opened their mouth once more to continue their diatribe but paused. It was slight, barely perceptible, but they saw it. Charlie’s eyes had widened a bit on that one… 

“Wait…seriously? Oh. My. GOD!! You actually–” Alex burst into laughter. But honestly, it wasn’t just to piss them off. It was genuinely ridiculous to them. (And the blood loss and malnutrition wasn’t helping either). 

“You have got to be kidding me! But I guess it’s kinda sweet; you had a little office crush!” Alex mocked, their eyes sparkling in pure, unbridled joy at the humiliation evident on Charlie’s face. 

“That’s–that’s not true,” Charlie stammered. “You’re just making shit up! Stop this nonsense because I swear I’ll–”

“You were actually so butt-hurt that after they broke your heart you became evil?” 

“Shut–”

“Your self-esteem is so fragile you actually became a villain! Like a coward! A self-pitying, coward!” 

Charlie was pissed now. Mortified and pissed. Their chest heaved as their breathing grew heavy and their nostrils flared. They couldn’t get a word in as Alex continued to denigrate them.

“What are you, an incel?! How absolutely–” 

“STOP–”

“PATHETIC!” Alex wheezed. They were howling with laughter now. So invested in the hilarity of the situation and having pulled one over on their abuser, Alex didn’t notice as Charlie…well…broke. 

“You were NEVER a true hero! You’re just a slimy, insecure, foolish bastard! Oh lord, whoever broke up with you dodged a HUGE bullet! Like what kinda idiot thinks you of all–” 

“SHUT UP!!!! SHUT UP!! SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!!! DON’T YOU DARE SPEAK OF THEM! DON’T YOU DARE INSULT THEM IN MY PRESENCE!” 

What happened next was a blur, for both hero and villain. Charlie whipped out the knife from their pocket and slashed it across Alex’s face. Then, they wrenched back the whip and slammed it against Alex’s back, over and over and over again. They were absolutely relentless, the entire time screaming, “YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT! YOU PIECE OF SHIT!” 

Alex screamed as Charlie used more force than they had before. The lacerations already on their back deepened, scarlet red practically flooding off the sides of table. Charlie’s barrage just would not stop. Tears streamed out of Alex’s eyes as apologized profusely and begged for it to stop. Soon their vision grew blurry and they silently thanked God for the embrace of unconsciousness. But they knew this nightmare would still be here when they woke up. 

Before they completely lost touch, they managed to shriek…

~ 

“I’LL TELL YOU!” 

Alex shot out of bed with a whimper. They ware disoriented at first, still babbling through sobs, before their eyes begin to adjust to the darkness. They are in the cell. Goodgrave’s cell. The small skylight above them emanates the soft, bluish glow of early morning hours. Dew drops dot the dirty glass and they become aware of just how cold the room is. The calmness felt eerie and unsettling after such a nightmare. 

Then they looked beside them. 

Seeing Charlie asleep in the bed brought back a tsunami of memories from the day prior. It generated a visceral reaction in them–making their stomach churn in knots and their heart pound even faster. Immediately they bolted off the bed, backing away until they were on the other side of the room. They sunk down to the floor and watched as their enemy remained asleep. 

Charlie had the blanket draped over them but it was thin and raggedy; no match for the icy, winter morning. They shivered and their teeth clattered slightly. They were still covered in blood and bruises from the night before and hugged the broken arm to their stomach. It bent at a disturbing angle and was an angry red color. But what Alex noticed the most was their pallid face. It was drawn down in frown. Grime and blood painted their cheeks. 

Without even thinking about it Alex’s finger softly ghosted along the scar across their face. They stood up and crossed the cell to the small mirror hanging above the dirty, old sink. They’d become used to it by now. Their mind spun in circles, overrun and overwhelmed. 

The prone figure behind them couldn’t hurt them now. Not just because they were asleep, or because they had become weak and sickly after their time with Eric, but because by the time Charlie was taken captive by the Hero’s Alliance eight months prior they were a shell of themselves. The stoic, fearsome interrogator they once knew was replaced by a nervous, obedient individual. Ripley said Charlie seemed genuinely repentant. To the point of self-disgust. Alex refused to believe this. (They did notice the way Charlie avoided looking at themselves in the mirror, and a couple times noticed the scars they tried to hide beneath long sleeves. They noticed it because Alex used to be like that, too. But Alex didn’t care…how could they?) 

“Alex.” 

Alex jumped, startled by the groggy voice, and spun around. Charlie was using their good arm to prop themselves up. They could only open one eye, the other nearly swollen shut and mottled with purple, black splotches. 

“Sorry,” Charlie whispered. They ducked their head as the tips of their ears reddened. “Didn’t mean to startle you.” Alex hummed in response. A moment of awkward silence elapsed. Alex focused on removing a piece of lint from their shirt and did their best to look completely unperterbed despite their recent dream.

 “Are you…um…are you okay?” Charlie asked. 

“I’m fine.” An awkward silence filled the space between them once more. Charlie tried to move from their position but quickly regretted it, hissing as their broken arm was jostled. Cautiously, Alex neared the bed. They shifted their weight as they watched their enemy struggle to sit up. 

Charlie appeared to still be in the throes of a fever. They let themselves fall back on the bed. Their eyes seemed glazed, lids half open and struggling to stay that way. Again, they tried to sit up but only managed to hurt themselves once more. They moaned as their arm burned and their head throbbed with a migraine. 

Alex hesitated momentarily, and then untied the sweatshirt from around their waist. “We need to do a make-shift cast for your arm. It will take some of the weight off it.” 

“Oh no, it’s fine. Really. You keep it. It’s cold in here. Thank you.” 

“No, you need it or it’ll get worse.” 

“I swear I’m fine. You need it, you–” 

Alex huffed stubbornly and began reaching for their enemy anyways. They were taken aback when Charlie flinched. 

“I’m not going to hurt you, you idiot,” Alex bit out, annoyed. I should be the one flinching, not you! They thought to themselves. Resentment bubbled up to the surface and Alex tried to focus on putting villain in a positon where they could make the cast to distract themselves from it. 

“Sorry. I’m really sorry. I don’t know why I did that. It was–yeah. I’m–” 

“Just stop talking, okay?” Alex barked. Charlie bit their lip and nodded ashamedly. 

Alex’s resentment manifested as roughly tending to the villain. Charlie did their best to not make a sound but when Alex harshly man-handled the broken arm into it’s place in the cast they winced and whimpered. 

“Stop whining. You’re the reason we’re in this mess. You should have left when I told you to!” 

“I know…I’m so sorry.” 

“If Team Lead had just listened to me in the first place…ugh. They’re way too nice to you. You don’t deserve their sympathy. Pff. You don’t deserve anything really.” 

“...I–nngghhh–agree,” mumbled Charlie weakly.

“Yeah right. I don’t believe you.” Alex grins as they glance over to see Charlie’s face; they wanted to watch their words hurt in real time. Instead, Alex didn’t feel the joy they expected. They could tell Charlie was holding back tears. One escaped and Charlie hastily wiped it away. 

Something felt wrong in the pit of Alex’s stomach. Their grin quickly dissipated. 

They had finished with the cast and were about to get up when they noticed just how much blood still covered Charlie’s neck and chest. They retrieved and wet a cloth like they had the night before. 

“Let’s clean this up a bit. I don’t like the smell of blood,” they rationalized. Charlie’s eyes were half-mast and they nodded woozily. While wiping their face Alex felt heat radiating off their nemesis’ forehead. 

Charlie swayed slightly and they steadied them. 

“You feeling nauseous?” Charlie shook their head. Alex shot them a look. 

“...A little. But it’s really not that bad. I’m fine.” 

“Here. Drink this. Then you need to lie down.” They took a cup of water they had filled at the sink and made Charlie take a few sips. Alex put their hand behind Charlie’s neck and slowly lowered them. Charlie hissed in pain once more. 

“Sorry, sorry, I’ll be quiet” they reassured. 

Within a few minutes Charlie’s eyes were closed. Alex decided to lay down again and try to get more rest if they could. It was quiet except for the slightly congested breathing coming from Charlie. 

Faintly came the sound of someone whistling. It grew closer and closer until footsteps echoed outside in the hall as well. Charlie’s eyes shot open and they strained to sit up, a look of horror on their face. 

“He’s coming.” 

“It’s probably the guard. Go back to sleep,” Alex warned. 

“NO. It’s...” 

Abruptly, keys rattle in the door and it swings open. Eric Goodgrave’s lanky frame waltzes in and a mischievous smile spreads across his face. 

“Oh goody, you’re both awake! Alex, my dear: may I ask you a personal question?”  

TAG LIST: @whump-blog @whumpsday @trappedgoose-in-a-writblr-room @termsnconditions-apply @the-whumpers-grimm @elizaisnotokay @whumpwillow @asthefirerisesblog @kiratheperson @slightlyexpiredyogurt8 @stuck-in-this-mortal-form @itsmyworld23 @maracujatangerine

[maracujatangerine]

77. Safety

CW: institutionalised slavery, dehumanisation, box boy universe, pet whump

White planes sped up on the tarmac outside the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, faster and faster until they rose up into the cerulean sky.

Brutus ignored them. If one of the pilots would lose control his Master might die, but that was a threat that was beyond his control. Focus on the threat that you can affect.

Instead, he let his dark eyes sweep over the crowd inside the airport. Walking half a step behind his Master’s left shoulder, Brutus saw passers-by swerve to avoid crossing their path, idle glances snagging on his collar in curiosity or apprehension.

This was normal, the way that young, bespectacled father pulled his small daughter aside, the way the two elderly ladies in hijabs took a few steps back, the wave of attention rippling through the crowd as they passed. This was, in a way, what his Master had paid the WRU for.

What Brutus was looking for was something out of the ordinary, someone moving with unexpected purpose, someone running or throwing or standing still in just the wrong way. The state of hypervigilance felt almost like meditation, a singular focus that absorbed all thought.

This time, it was not needed. No threat appeared. After an uneventful taxi ride through bustling streets they arrived at a double suite on the fifteenth floor. After taking a quick shower, the pet’s Master told the guard dog to stay.

“I won’t be needing you tonight.” Wayland Jones said, as he walked out the door.

Brutus did his exercise routine, sit-ups and push-ups and stretches. He also had a shower, in the second, smaller bathroom.

With his still damp hair curling around his face, Brutus sat down at the ebony desk and disassembled and cleaned his handgun with smooth, well-practiced precision.

A guard dog should be like a gun, his handler’s voice echoed in his mind, collected, calm, unmoving as long as the safety is on, but capable of tremendous violence if your owner releases the catch.

Reassembling the weapon, Brutus laid it to the side. He did feel twinges of concern at his Master being out and about alone, but Wayland Jones had ordered him to stay. Master knows best. Brutus tried to reassure himself.

The guard dog straightened out the room and drank some water in the bathroom to make his rumbling stomach quiet down. Then, finally, he turned off the lights and sat down in front of the large windows.

The night in the foreign city was filled with neon coloured signs for shops, restaurants and nightclubs. Dark shapes of trees swayed in the breeze. Windows in the buildings around left binary messages of alternating warm yellow or deep dark rectangles. Cars, motorbikes and buses crawled back and forth with their red and white lamps painting streaks of light.

Work was over. There was nothing more to be done. Brutus sat in the quiet, cool and dark hotel room and enjoyed the view.

*

This post is a part of the 2023 BBU Community Days organised by @bbu-on-the-side. This is my entry for day 13: Safety.

*

Tag List Part 1: @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-em @whumpzone @wh-wh-whu @neuro-whump @carnagecardinal @cowboy-anon @whump-me-all-night-long @redwingedwhump @myst-in-the-mirror @haro-whumps @eatyourdamnpears @bloodsweatandpotato @pinkraindropsfell @whumptywhumpdump @theydy-cringeworthy @whump-in-progress @whumpsy-daisy @nicolepascaline @whumpcreations @briars7 @shiningstarofwinter @whumppsychology @alex-ember @miss-kitty-whumptastic @whumpy-writings @in-patient-princess @youtube-fandoms-bands @goblinchildindabog @mazeish @distinctlywhumpthing @inpainandsuffering @canniboylism @icannotweave @incoherent-introspection @kim-poce @broken-typewriter @the-monarch-whumperfly @whumpers-inc @grizzlie70 @lil-whumper @writingbackwards @sunflower1000 @wingedwhump @thecitythatdoesntsleep @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @onlybadendings @rabass @wolfeyedwitch @melancholy-in-the-morning

[letstalkwhump]

Let's Talk Whump No.5

Welcome to Let’s Talk Whump, a series of interviews that spotlight the amazing people in our whump community! ! I’m Malice and I’ll be your host. 

Today I’m talking whump with the wonderful @painsandconfusion! 

So good to have you here today, @painsandconfusion! Tell us a fun fact about yourself!

I'm a lawyer but don't seem like a lawyer at all - everyon'es always confused when I say so. I'm a fan of jumping between fluffy pink dresses, standard hipster vibes, emo styles, and who knows what else. It's different every day. I just like variety!

What does whump mean to you?

Oh dear, tricky to answer...

Whump is when a character is at their highest stress point (or...at least higher than average). I suffer from severe and vivid nightmares, but I found out that when I write whump, I can process my fears and anxieties through those characters and their experiences. I can only go about two weeks without writing before the nightmares start again. It's kinda amazing to see just how effective and healthy it is for me. I live vicariously through my whumpees for a moment, and they help my brain keep its shit together. Then I get to meet all these lovely people online and it just makes my heart so happy!

Wow, that’s really great to hear! Whump can be really cathartic at times. How did you find the whump community? What made you want to join? 

I think this is a standard story, but I discovered the hero x villain community first, and it wasn't /quite/ my cup of tea, but it was close. After I saw a few people reblogging things with #whump, I checked it out. 

I have a vivid memory of skipping class for the first time in my life, just sitting in my apartment, all but crying as I scrolled through everything. I was so relieved to find that I wasn't alone. I spent so much of my life hating myself and hating whumperflies and hating that I was drawn to violence and not understanding why. After I found this community I felt so much more at home. 

I made a blog and started reblogging.

Then of course, I relapsed into hating myself and deleted it.

Then I made another. Started posting gifs I made from my favorite whumpy movies.

The kink community kinda took it over - which is fine and lovely and I'm happy to share content, but....they were the only ones who saw my blog. So everything I made was taken in a way I didn't mean and I felt very isolated and unheard.

So I deleted it again.

A couple years ago, I tried again. I started just reblogging, then I impulsively added to a prompt list in one of my reblogs and people really liked it? So I made more. And more and more and more- eventually I started posting scenes, and I've been having a lovely time here ever since! 

Do you think your view on whump has changed since you joined? Are there tropes you now love/hate that you didn't at first? 

Absolutely. Like. Wow so much. I used to dislike pain a lot and only enjoy the fear leading up to it. While I still prefer the suspense, nothing really squicks me out anymore. I used to hate pet whump but now I'm a fan. 

I have started making whump art as of late, which has been a fun new adventure! I picked it up almost solely because there's so many fantastic writers in this community who deserve some good fanart. I'm having fun working through a list of my favorite creators!

Tell us about your favourite whump trope!

Dear goodness, do I love a chin tilt.

No no...hmmm.....I get to run wild with this question and there's nothing you can do to stop me! Muahhahahhaaaaaaaa~

Okay so. Picture this.

Whumpee stumbling slowly backward, breath catching in their throat and burning at their lungs. Their feet drag against the ground as they stare up at Whumper, eyes shaking and sparkling with tears that cling to their lashes, refusing to fall. Not /quite/ yet. 

Whumper strokes a knuckle down their cheek, drawing a twitch - not quite a flinch, no no, Whumpee wouldn't dare to pull away. Whumper's hand flips softly as it reaches their jaw, pressing to their throat instead.

Whumpee finally lets a sound pass their lips, a soft whimper as their back hits the wall. The momentum topples the wetness from their lashes, and Whumper's eyes roam down to follow them as they soak hot into the fabric of Whumpee's shirt. 

Whumper's hand turns up just /once/ more, curling a finger under Whumpee's chin to tip their head up, drawing hiding eyes back into place.

Then they say something whumpy, I guess - you get the picture.

LOVE that shit. 

Intimate whumpers? Slow pacing? Vivid sensation? Yes!

Absolutely loving the detail in that! It’s all about the sensations! And speaking of favourites, do you want to share a piece you've written?

Hard Question!

First one that comes to mind is The Party. It's one of my favorites because my hands were shaking so hard while writing it. It was a great way to kick off that event (@thewhumperssoiree) which I'm inadvertently yet shamelessly plugging by answering with that piece I guess! It's very very fun, I loved what that piece created. Everyone who wrote for it did such a great job! (Event is still open, I don’t know why I'm talking about it in past tense)

Do you have a standard writing style/routine or does it vary?

I absolutely change up my paragraph style depending on the intensity of the scene or the place in the scene. I'm a big fan of elaborating and writing moment to moment so the oc's sensations and emotions bleed into the reader. I don't write much on visuals at all - almost entirely on sensation, which I think works well in this medium.

When I'm writing, I kinda forget everything else exists, so I don't have food or drink or if I do, it's neglected. If anyone tries to talk to me, tough luck to them, I'm in the Write Zone and I cannot hear them!

I write solely when inspiration strikes which.......is a lot!

Is there a noticeable difference in how easily you write things? Do the words always flow or do you have to beat them out sometimes?

There's characters who don't get in my head nearly as easily, and ones that are effortless. Getting fucking Alec in my head? Impossible. He's a bitch, then does bitch things once there. Ethan? Dream. Miracle boy. So easy to write that emo little shit. For clarification, the seven chapters of Alec's series vs the thirty of Ethan's. Alec is a bitch. End of story.

But, I also do much better describing little moments rather than full scenes. I'm good at scenes, but it takes so many spoons. Hence why I have three hundred or so random drabble posts or lists, but only like fifty total from my series. It just takes more effort to have to think about plot and pacing and all that good stuff. 

Fun? Yes. 

But hard.

Is there anything you're working on at the moment? Finalising the final chapter of your series? Starting a new au? Trying a different style of writing/pov? Revisiting fanfiction? Maybe you've really gotten into poetry....

Oh dear goodness, I'm working on everything all at once and I need to stop!

I also need to roleplay less and write more for you lovelies! I’m so sorry I’m just really distractible…

Give us some writing advice. Bless us with your wisdom!

I have posts for this but:

1. Keep your descriptions to the textured senses. Less visuals, more sensation. Caretaker has brown hair? So what? Tell me about how Caretaker's hair curled at the ends, just barely tickling at the corner of their eyes until they flicked it away with a twitchy shake of the head.

2. Personify the shit out of your nouns. Whumpee bled? No. The blood soaked through Whumpee's shirt. Make it an external factor that's affecting them. Much more engaging.

3. Pacing. Whumpee got dragged into the car, then into a house and chained in the basement? That's not one scene, that's at least three. OR. It's a two sentence summary that Whumpee is musing about while already in the basement. 

4. Speaking of, don't start with the boring, just get right into the action. You can weave the 'how we got here' bits in after a few sentences, but get your reader hooked right away. Don't start with "Whumpee got out of bed, glancing at their blaring alarm". Try instead "Their hands were shaking so hard they had to try three times to dial the number, fingers as clumsy as they were that morning, trying to slap their alarm off through the fog of blissful sleep." Or just don't mention it at all! Skip to the good stuff!

Lastly, let’s hype up some of your favourite blogs! Any friends, writers or just really cool people you want to shout out?

@whumblr was like my idol before I started! It's so cool just casually knowing her now? Still not over that, to be honest.

I always tag her but @distinctlywhumpthingmpthing is so good? Seriously, you want to see some god-tier writing, go over there. (minors read tws well please, its not all for you.)

@brutal-nemesisemesis is always a delight. Castys gives me life.

And of course,  I'm gonna give a shoutout to @wormwritinging, my beloved. We met here and as much as I adore this community, they're hands down the best part of it. 

Anything you'd like to add? 

I can't think of anything but thank you for doing this. This blog is so cool!

It’s been a honor to have you here, @painsandconfusion!

And to all you folks at home, have a whump-derful day!

[serickswrites]

What's the last whumpy thing you saw/read/etc and what did you like about it?

I’m answering this out of order! Because I love questions.

I’m currently rereading Iron Flame and it’s pretty whumpy for mainstream books. Is it literature? No. Do I enjoy reading it because it gives me whumperflies and I like the characters? Yes. The interrogation scene was especially enjoyable (though I clearly could have enjoyed it going further). The ending had me screaming though lol.

Thanks for the ask, friend!

[aceofwhump]

First thing to give you whumperflies?

Mine was john Smith towards the end of pocahontas

That is a great question.

First of all, I freaking love that part with John Smith getting shot and her seeing him off and he's in pain and got bandages wrapped around his chest. So good. Great first whumperfly moment for you!

Okay mine was, I think, the episode of Cardcaptor Sakura titled "Double Take". I was like 8 years old and I got whumperflies when Toya (called Tori in the American dubbed version I saw as a kid) fell off a cliff and broke his leg. That was the first time I remember liking something specifically because of whump. This was my first experience with anime, my defining whump loving moment, and I was obsessed with the show as a kid. Obsessed.

[wounds-seen-and-unseen]

Hello fellow whump blog! I'm way behind in my Whumpmas in July but luckilyI remembered to get back to it before the month was over! I'm on Day 10 right now ("check out a new whump blog and drop them an ask") and you're a whump blog I haven't seen before so I'm saying hi!!! 👋

And I saw that you've only recently forayed into the world of whump! Welcome!! Honestly, this is one of the nicest communities ever, full of such great people, so you'll find a lot of love and support here!

When did you first get into whump/when did you realized you liked it?

Hello to you too, fellow whump blog!

Thanks a bunch for the ask!

My apologies for such a late answer, I got some technical issues for the past few days (read: I did not have a functional keyboard) and hence I am behind on Whumpmas too.

You are so right about the community, and I have a feeling that you are quite the nice and warm person yourself!

Coming to your ask, I had made a post about Jaime Lannister’s trauma conga line awakening quite the number of whumperfies in me. That was my first concrete realization of liking whump.

But thinking even further back, one of the first whump scenes I remember liking (another scene is for yet another whumpmas post) is in the movie Hunger Games: Catching Fire. It is a scene in which Gale Hawthorne, one of the major characters, gets quite the whipping.

I loved the scene. The dramatic, high-stakes nature of it (the heroine puts herself between Gale and the whip as he weakly tries to dissuade her) raised quite the number of whumperflies.

Looking forward to more Whumpmas posts from you!

[whumpty-dumpty-doo]

Whumpmas in July 2024 - Day 5 - Share a TV show, movie, or any media that gives you the whumperflies!

This post is part of my participation in the 2024 @whumpmasinjuly event!

-----

A piece of media that gives me the whumperflies!:

It's funny, every time I get asked about something specific like this, I forget every piece of media that I've ever watched. The one that comes to mind though is one that was integral to my whump fandom awakening:

Voltron: Legendary Defender (Netflix)

I had been curious about this show for several years because one of my best friends was super into it a few years ago. However, I never took the time to sit down and watch it... until I got into the whump community and saw how much was in it.

If you've hung around my whump blog long enough, you can see that Keith is my blorbo and that I love love love to see him whumped. His baseline character is hot and angsty, and there is so much good fanart and fanfics of him in situations.

The show itself delivers a lot with hard hits, emotional turmoil, tough battles, an on-screen scarring, and so much more. It's a fun ride for whumpers! Is the story perfect? Absolutely not, but I love it for the fun, the adventure, the friendship, and of course the whump all the same. Plus, again, so many delicious whump fics and fanart to look at!

I would do some crazy things for this sad boy.

If you want a completely different kind of show/whump, I also am completely obsessed with:

Succession (HBO)

This show is grounded in reality, so you won't find anything too extreme or crazy here. If you want emotional whump though, holy cow. This show is SO GOOD. Almost all of the characters are awful (that's a compliment), no one is a good person, the stakes are high, and I was delightfully miserable the entire time I was watching it (again, another compliment).

The writing is phenomenal and keeps you on the edge of your seat, the acting is tight, the emotions are deep and strong, and watching the characters try to escape the cycle of abuse and neglect they lived through, only to become the ones who perpetuate it is so tragic and captivating. You see their self destruction and want so badly for them to get out of it, but there's nothing that you can do. It hurts.

There's a big thing that happens in the final season that just GUTS me every time, but even the little moments can be so tense and meaningful. It's brilliant. Again, I can't speak highly enough of the show, the actors, the writing, everything. If you want emotional whump, you've got it, baby!

... but it's also a super funny show with a lot of humor in it as well, so there's that! It's really needed to balance out the other parts. Genuinely, some of the funniest stuff I've seen in years. It's not all tragedy!

They look happy here, but trust me, that's rare for them.

Cousin Greg, my precious, precious string bean of a man whom I love and want to protect with my whole heart. (I literally started watching this show because of Nicholas Braun, and I don't regret it at all. Greg is the best character!)

---

Tags: @whumpmasinjuly-archive

[painsandconfusion]

Confident

(tw: kidnapping, ransom, zip ties, bag over head, death, murder mention, implied filmed whump)

[Drabble Masterpost]

“So, do I give you my Starby’s order now orrrr..?”

Even through the dark fabric of the bag, Whumpee could swear they saw Whumper’s eyes roll. To clarify - there’s nothing to see. This is a metaphor. 

Not a metaphor. 

Hm. 

What’s the word for that…?

Aaaaaa…...an exaggeration? Aaaaaaaa…tasteful lie? 

Maybe it’s a-

“No coffee-” Whumper snapped. 

Whumpee’s fingers splayed up in a surrender - they’d lift their hands and arms, but their wrists were kind ziptied to the chair. 

Didn’t even seem like a strong chair. Like if they tried reeeeeally hard to tip over, it might just snap apart and they could walk out of here. 

“I mean I can take a tea, then? Or a smoothie-? I really like the pink dri-”

“SHUT UP.”

Whumpee sighed, slumping back in their chair. “You’re no fun, you know that?”

They could feel eyes boring into them. 

“Why the fuck are you so cocky-? You’re about to fucking die on national television.”

Whumpee shrugged. “Not cocky.”

“Stupid, then.”

Whumpee lifted a finger. “Confident~” they corrected. 

Whumper snorted a scoff, footsteps tapping closer in a pa-tat-pa-tat-pa-tat- “Why would you have any reason to be confident??” Mocking. 

A little ‘ptew-’ whispered through the room, and a body dropped to the ground at Whumpee’s feet, thudding softly as it came to rest. 

Whumpee smirked under the bag. “Took you long enough, hot stuff~”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” Caretaker’s voice echoed through the room, steps remarkably silent as they crossed to Whumpee’s chair - movement evidenced only by the proximity of their voice. “Sorry baby, traffic was killer on the east side.”

Whumpee shrugged. “Can we get Starbucks?”

“..and make me drive more through this shit?”

“I was just kidnapped and held for ransom, I deserve a treat.”

They could feel Caretaker roll their eyes as they snapped the zipties at Whumpee’s ankles - then wrists. Less metaphorical this time - more a highly educated guess and a deep knowledge settled into their soul. 

“Fineeee- but we’re going to the one by the park. Interstate is shit right now.”

“Works for me~”

Caretaker’s hands caught Whumpee’s as they reached up to pull off the bag - fingers circling their wrists and keeping them suspended halfway. 

Caretaker’s voice softened. “..I’m sorry this happened.” 

Whumpee shook their head a little. “It’s all okay now.”

Dark, kidnappy black bag fabric be damned - Caretaker kissed them through it anyway. 

[Drabble Masterpost]

(tags: @prisonerwhump @whumpawink @mabledonut @happy-little-sadist @paleassprince @distinctlywhumpthing @wibbly-wobbly-whump @batfacedliar-yetagain @suspicious-whumping-egg @wormwriting @villainsvictim @throwawaywhumper @wild-selenite-caffine @whumpasaurus101 @thecitythatdoesntsleep @whumpworld @pinkieglitterheart @whumpberry-cookie @rainbows-and-whumperflies @a-galactic-fox @shywhumpauthor @cyberneticwhump @bumpwhump @hold-back-on-the-comfort @veyroswin @whumping-seven-days-a-week @whumpingisfun @suffering-and-misery @definitely-not-a-seagull-i-swear @yetanotheraltwhumpblog @whump-queen @a-whumped-tea @whumpsday @sonder35)

As always, lmk if you want to be added or removed from any tag lists!