#is it Whump

[chaotic-orphan]

Febuwhump day One: helpless

Oh yeah we’re doing another prompt calendar!! My favourites, I write things I never usually do because there’s a time limit and it’s fun. This prompt was hard, but I tried B)

CW: strained family relationships, dysfunctional family, kidnapping (implied)

*~*~*~*~*

Henchman escorted Villain up the opera-like staircase of the mansion, all marble floors and Greek style pillars to hold up the second floor. The first time Villain saw it they marvelled at the sheer class of it all. Now though, it was nothing more than a means to an end, Villain could be walking through the mud for all they cared, their mind was on other matters.

Henchman opened the door and Villain stepped in. The door closed behind them and Villain didn’t stop walking until they were at the chairs in front of the large mahogany desk.

Supervillain had his back half turned, looking out the window with a glass of whiskey in his hand.

“How nice to see you, Villain,” said Supervillain. He didn’t turn his head as he spoke, just continued to stare out the window into the world outside.

Villain clenched their jaw at his easy, blasé tone, but anger never got Villain anywhere, so they took a second to relax it before speaking.

“Hello Supervillain. Wonderful weather we’re having, isn’t it?”

Supervillain hummed in agreement.

“Harvest season is nearly upon us,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at Villain. “Have you been keeping your garden well?”

“I’ve been a bit busy recently,” Villain replied, tone clipped. Far much harsher than they intended for it to come out.

Calm down Villain, they chastised. Clasping their hands behind their back to stop clenching them into fists. An obvious action, one Supervillain would no doubt see through, but it comforted Villain at least. They could pretend that they were hiding it from Supervillain.

Supervillain said, tilting their head down to look at their glass, swirling the honey coloured liquid inside gently, “yes, I’ve heard of your recent escapades. Not from you, of course.”

An obvious dig at Villain. Villain wanted to erupt then and there but they didn’t, they forced themselves to remain calm.

“You can’t seriously expect me to come visit anytime I have gossip,” Villain scoffed running a hand through their hair. “I mean, what with being searched and seized every time I come in here and escorted through the halls like some stranger! Only for you to not have the decency to even look at me when I speak to you.”

Supervillain stopped the motion, raising their head. The hairs on the back of Villain’s neck stood up at the easy movement and they realised they had gone too far too late.

Supervillain turned their body from the window to face Villain. Villain fought the urge to step back. Why should they? They said exactly what they thought, and it wasn’t their fault anyway. Supervillain was the one who brought it up, not them.

Villain’s hands tightened into fists behind their back.

“Sorry, Villain. You must understand, it is very hard for me to look at traitors.”

The word traitor hit them like a punch to the chest, winding them.

“What do you—”

“Don’t play stupid, Villain,” Supervillain said, tone even, as if he was still talking about the weather. “I raised you better than that.”

Villain clenched their jaw, locked their lips and turned their head away.

“You have been reckless, Villain. Running around the city, fraternising with Heroes. How do you think that makes me look? That my own child is blatantly disobeying me publicly?”

Villain didn’t reply.

Supervillain sighed. From the corner of their eye they could see Supervillain moving around their desk, the barrier between them, Villain’s safety net and coming to leaning on the front of it, arms folded over their chest.

“Can you blame me for having you searched when you come in? I don’t know where your loyalty lies anymore.”

“It—” Villain began in protest but that was all that fell from their lips. “I—” they tried again, but nothing. The truth was that Villain didn’t know anymore. They didn’t know something they used to be so sure of.

They were a Villain through and through three months ago. They were born to it, grew up in it, the heir to their father’s empire. They liked being a Villain, they liked scheming about how to subdue Heroes and intimidate juries and witnesses.

They were unequivocally a Villain three months ago.

Then Hero showed up and turned their entire world upside down.

These days Villain helped Hero with their problems and understanding the inner workings of Villains to properly subdue them.

Other Villains.

Never their father’s.

Never.

They weren’t a traitor.

Burning eyes met their father’s cool gaze. “I’m not a traitor,” they said, voice thick with emotion.

Supervillain pushed off the table and stood in front of Villain.

“I don’t know that, Villain. I only know what I’m told, by people I trust.”

“What right hand?!” Villain demanded, throwing their hand out in a wide gesture, so close to completely losing it.

“Why do you want me to trust you Villain, hmm? Is that it?” Supervillain demanded, fury resting just under the surface of their skin below the calm expression. Villain let out a soft tch before turning their head away again.

Supervillain said, “Villain look at me,” and so Villain did. Supervillain raised their fist and placed it over Villain’s chest. The shrewdness of his age shining sympathetic in his eyes.

“How can I trust you when you are so clearly at war with yourself, Villain?” Supervillain asked, voice soft. It nearly broke Villain.

Very nearly.

The soft voice almost felt familiar, like how Supervillain used to speak with them when Villain had failed something and was punishing themselves for it. If they got less than 90 in a test, if there was someone annoying them, when they failed a mission. More usually when they were late in the night, pouring over every plan, every minute detail, every possible scenario and cursing themselves because why didn’t they see it before?

The times when Supervillain would find them with a cup of tea and a soft, sympathetic smile much like their expression now, coaxing them to go back to bed. That they were being too hard on themselves.

Villain would protest. They would say that they refused to be caught unaware again, to be in a situation where they were stuck. So completely helpless.

They didn’t need to rely on anyone, they shouldn’t have to.

“I will always be here,” Supervillain would say. Then when Villain would stare back at their work, Supervillain would take the seat next to them and sit with them while they worked through the problem.

Sometimes Supervillain would be silent.

Other times he would vocalise the issues he saw with the plan in hindsight that couldn’t have been known before the day.

Villain would wake up in their chair. Supervillain snoring beside them, head resting on their chest.

Villain’s fingers clenched into fists, then unclenched and clenched again. They didn’t know what they should do… what side were they on?

“Let’s make it easier, Villain,” said Supervillain stepping back, dropping all contact from Villain. He slid his hands into the pockets of his tailored trousers, tilting his head at Villain. “Why did you come and see me today?”

“Because—” Villain said without thinking then stopped short.

Supervillain blinked. “Because?”

Because Hero’s missing, Villain didn’t say. And I’m worried you took them.

Supervillain was waiting patiently, though their eyes told Villain everything they needed to know. Business Supervillain was talking to them now, not their father. Which means…

Villain schooled their expression and said, “because you took Hero, and I’m here to get them back.”

The corner of Supervillain’s lips quirked up into a half smirk.

“So bold to assume, Villain.”

“I’m right though, aren’t I?” Villain challenged, taking a step forward. “If you’ve done somethi—”

Supervillain held up a hand to silence them, and Villain hated the way they cut themselves off. Supervillain lowered his hand to the button on his desk that Villain knew went straight to Right Hand.

The door opened not a moment later and Villain didn’t have to turn to know Right Hand was at the door. The snivelling little runt.

“Right Hand, could you show Villain to our guest, please?” Supervillain asked, not breaking eye contact with Villain. “And if they try anything, throw them in beside them.”

“Of course, sir,” Right Hand replied, a smile in his voice. “With pleasure.”

Villain glared at their father who smiled in return.

“Why?”

Supervillain shrugged. “I wanted to meet the Hero who turned my own flesh and blood against me.”

“You met them, now let them go,” Villain said, taking another step closer.

Supervillain tilted his head. “Are you asking or demanding?”

“Whichever gets Hero free faster,” Villain replied.

Supervillain said nothing for a beat. Instead his eyes just searched Villain’s face, for what Villain didn’t know. Answers?

“If you behave, we can discuss Hero’s release over dinner.”

Villain wanted to protest. They wanted to scream and shout, and shove Right Hand down the stairs just because, but they couldn’t. They couldn’t do anything because their stupid gun and knife were taken off them when they arrived and were sitting safely out of their hands.

They hated to admit it, but without them… Right Hand could probably beat them in a fight. Maybe not a battle of wits, but a physical scuffle… Villain was well and truly helpless.

Villain didn’t reply. They turned on their heel and shoulder checked Right Hand on the way out the door, walking towards the cells themself. They didn’t need Right Hand to escort them, they never did before.

This was their fucking house.

All they needed to do was descend to the cells to find Hero — their home.

[honestlydarkprincess]

i love this character so much......i hope they get seriously injured and almost die

[bebx]

reblog if you’ve read fanfictions that are more professional, better written than some actual novels. I’m trying to see something

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

feeling called out today

credit: _ADWills

[whumpster-dumpster]

"My poor baby. My poor sweet little boy," I lament out loud over a whole grown adult man who is not mine but is in fact a fictional character with fictional hurts. What matters is my feelings are real

[viaalterego]

[whump-it-like-its-hot]

So earlier in art class today, someone drew a characters hands in their pockets and mentioned that hands are really like the ultimate end boss of art, and most of us wholeheartedly agreed. So then, our teacher went ahead and free handed like a handful of hands on the board, earning a woah from a couple of students. So the one from earlier mentioned how it barely took the teacher ten seconds to do what I can’t do in three hours. And you know what he responded?

“It didn’t take me ten seconds, it took me forty years.”

And you know, that stuck with me somehow. Because yeah. Drawing a hand didn’t take him fourth years. But learning and practicing to draw a hand in ten seconds did. And I think there’s something to learn there but it’s so warm and my brain is fried so I can’t formulate the actual morale of the lesson.

[greykolla-art]

My blog has become infested with angst goblins, and they must be fed with some hypothetical scenarios!🙏💚

[whump-in-the-closet]

when a powerful figure is reduced to kneeling. when the lord is forced to bow. when the exile stumbles into an unwelcoming bar. when the “beast” is chained by their horns. when a god is dragged behind their enemy’s chariot, a captive and trophy. when the loyal “guard dog” character is muzzled and the silver-tongued thief falls silent in horror.

that’s the shit

it’s about the contrapasso. the reversal of roles and the sudden, plunging terror of being unable to hide.

[candaru]

no no. you don't get it. the reason I injure my blorbos until they can't walk is because that's the only way they'll ever let someone else carry them. the reason I curse them to be sick and feverish is so that they'll finally open up about their emotions while delirious. the reason I force them to overexert themselves to the point of exhaustion is so that when they pass out they can finally rest.

I'm doing this for their own good.

[edwardcreel]

reblog if you believe fanfics are as valid as books that were published and sold by authors who write as their main careers. I'm trying to prove a point

[bebs-art-gallery]

Speak No Evil † See No Evil

© Molly Has a Chainsaw

[finleycannotdraw]

we need all types of art in fandoms

[bebx]

“We hope this email finds you well” babe, the only emails I hope find me well are the ones from Archive of Our Own

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

please please please please reblog if you’re a writer and have at some point felt like your writing is getting worse. I need to know if I’m the only one who’s struggling with these thoughts

[questions-about-blorbos]

This request was sent to us and we made a poll in response to it. Send any Blorbo-related question you want to our inbox and we’ll make a poll on which people can vote with their own Blorbos in minds