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tonystarchive · 1 year

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IRONDAD & SPIDER-SON WHUMP MASTERLIST—PART 1

Last Updated: September 2023

As promised, here is my long overdue Irondad Whump Masterlist! This list took an embarrassing amount of time to compile and over forty pages in my Google Docs (!!!!!).

Due to the sheer amount of fics, I will be posting in parts. Within these posts, each fic will categorized by its most prevalent trope/theme.

I hope the work from these talented contributors brings as much whumpy joy to you as they do to me!

Also, a very special shoutout to my most treasured Irondad authors iron_spider, for_the_night, madasthesea, losingmymindtonight, AdVitemAeternum, MotherKarizma, and so many more! This post is dedicated to you. ♡

Adoption/Tony Stark is Peter Parker’s Biological Father

5 Times Tony Acted Like Peter’s Dad by for_the_night

Summary: “And the one time he actually was." *Featuring an award evening, nightmares, a father-son field trip, appendicitis, and a very special gift—oh, and SO many forehead kisses.*

Alive and Healing by Watermeloness

Summary: “‘...bank robbery gone wrong in Queens. We’re receiving live footage from the crime site, where a 15-year-old teenager has been severely injured. Witnesses report a young boy getting shot after trying to stop the perpetrators. The last we’ve heard, his state is critical and he’s being rushed to…’ Statistically, there are a lot of 15-year-old teenagers in Queens. The city is filled with 15-year-old teenagers that are all brave in their own ways. This doesn’t have to be their teenager. But Peter is not picking up his phone.”

Dad Is Just A Word (You Give It Meaning) by madasthesea

Summary: “Father's Day, two years after May dies. Peter has something special to give and something important to say.”

For Want of a Dad (In Need of a Son) by GhostInTheBAU

Summary: “So, have you given the camping trip any more thought?’ Ned asks, and he groans internally at the change in subject. He'd much rather go back to talking about his non-existent love life, thanks. The trip is during spring break—a four-day long trek out into the wilderness, camping and hiking and gathering who even knows what, learning all about nature and the great outdoors. But the real kicker? It's an event specifically designed for fathers and their sons, which is something Peter doesn't have, and something he will never be. Not again." Or: Peter longs to have a deeper relationship with his mentor, a more meaningful connection; but he's managed to convince himself that the only reason Tony Stark spends any time with him at all is purely because of his enhancement. Because of Spider-Man.

Homebound by AdVitamAeternam

Summary: “Shortly after Homecoming, Peter starts having panic attacks. Tony happens to have some experience with those. What do you do when everyone around you has a tendency to die? What do you do when the last person, the most precious, the one you absolutely cannot lose, maybe wants you? Do you give in, or do you run? Do you take what they offer, or do you keep them as far away from the disaster that is your life as you can?”

I Love You More Than Anything Series by iron_spider

Summary: “The highs and lows of Tony unexpectedly becoming a single dad at 31—from Peter’s early baby years, all the way past the defeat of Thanos”

I’ll Always Protect You (Even If You Don’t Want Me To) by JAWorley

Summary: “So much changed with Peter’s body chemistry after the bite that new things are still coming up that surprise him. One day he and Tony are having a fight and Peter is so stressed out he ends up having a seizure. Seizures… great, so that’s a thing now, and Tony has decided that the best thing is for Peter to stop being Spider-Man. The more the seizures happen, the more protective Tony becomes. All Peter wants is to have his life back." Or: May asks Tony to take joint custody of Peter to help with the Spider-Man thing and this new stress seizure issue. Peter learns that sometimes parents do what’s necessary even if it’s not a popular choice with their kids.

Questions of Science, Science and Progress (Do Not Speak As Loud As My Heart) by l_u_c_k_y_c_l_o_v_e_r

Summary: “I had to find you, tell you I need you. Tell you I set you apart." Or: Peter stays with Tony for a few weeks, and the pair get into all kinds of shenanigans. And maybe, just maybe, those few weeks will usher in something more.

These Days I’ll Sit On Cornerstones by Finny3120

Summary: “Tony was ill-prepared to find that the vigilante he'd recruited was a 14-year-old boy. He was even less prepared for Peter Parker to be mute. But Peter hasn't spoken since his uncle died. And the more Tony works with the teen, the less it matters to him. He hears Peter just fine.”

You’re Stuck With Me by for_the_night

Summary: “I’m adopting you. I don’t care what you have to say.’ Peter gaped. Of all of the entrances he’d expected from Mister Stark after being alone in a hospital room for hours, that wasn’t one of them." Or: Peter gets taken to hospital with a ruptured appendix and Tony comes to a daunting realization of just how little hold he has on the kid outside of Medbay.

Alternate Universe

My Baby, My Baby by SpaceCowboysFromMars

Summary: “Silence falls over them like a warm blanket. Distantly, there’s commotion down on the street as people walk home from clubs. Peter thinks Tony might be his best friend in the whole world. After a long, peaceful moment, Tony says, voice dripping with warmth, ‘Night, kid.’ ‘Goodnight, Mr. Stark." Or: Tony and Peter in the middle of the night, in five alternate universes.

Visiting Hours by Sara (ctrsara)

Summary: “Boss?’ Tony jolted out of his half-asleep state. ‘What’s up, FRI?’ ‘There is a visitor here to see you.’ Tony jumped up. Anyone he knew would usually call or text first, so he was immediately on alert. ‘Who is it, FRI?’ ‘I need you to have an open mind, and know that I do not believe this person is any threat.’ Oh, yeah, that made him feel better. ‘Excuse me? How about you let me decide that, Watson?’ He started walking towards the door, activating his watch gauntlet. ‘Wait, Boss.’ He was annoyed, but he trusted his AI enough to stop and listen. ‘I also need you to know that I have performed biometric scanning, and this person is who they appear to be. However, they insist they’re not from our universe, and that is the part I don’t understand." — In a universe where he never invented time travel, and never brought anyone back, Tony Stark gets a late-night visitor he never could have expected. Prompt taken from @idk-bruh-20 Irondad fic idea #97 on Tumblr. Idea from @derpmallow.

What The Heart Knows by AdVitamAeternam

Summary: “When Peter wakes up, his head is being assaulted by a sledgehammer. He has no idea where he is. He has no idea what happened to him. He has no idea who he is, other than ‘Peter.’ But then, he looks over at the man who is scrutinizing him with worried eyes, and he knows who the man is. That's his dad." Or: The one where Peter gets hit over the head really, really hard and has temporary amnesia, and makes a very reasonable assumption based on the data presented to him.

Angst

A Far Green Country by madasthesea

Summary: “He just wanted Peter to be happy. More than anything in the world, he wanted Peter to be happy. Oh, Tony thought as that realization sunk down into the pit of his stomach and took root. I love him.”

A River To Skate Away On by frostysunflowers

Summary: “Peter has survived a spider bite, a building falling on him, turning to dust and being a teenager. He can handle anything. Except being forgotten.”

Agape by canon irondad (tomlinsoul)

Summary: “It's Tony's first date night with Pepper since the Snap, and Peter can't wait to spend some quality time with his little sister. Too bad a pair of hapless intruders, head trauma, and a panicked helicopter ride throw a spanner in the works." Whumptober 2022 Day 8: Head Trauma + Day 7: Seizures + Day 19: Repeatedly Passing Out + BTHB: Big Brother Instinct

Broken Heart Syndrome by iron_spider

Summary: “Tony is clearly really upset, the kind of upset that Peter’s only seen the likes of a couple of times, and it’s too close after everything happening to really talk about it. He can definitely see that now. ‘I’m sorry,’ Peter says. ‘I’m sorry, I should have answered—’ ‘Yeah, you should have answered!’ Tony yells. His bottom lip is trembling and he shakes his head, his eyes wild. He runs his hand over his forehead. ‘Okay, okay, I’ll know for next time,’ Peter says. He doesn’t know what’s gonna make this better. Probably nothing. ‘There better not be a next time,’ Tony says, dropping his hand from his face. ‘God, like this? Pete, no one knew where he was but you, and you—you kept it that way so nobody knew what the hell was happening, and you—you weren’t answering, kid, and that asshole sent me all that shit plucked directly from my nightmares, and I was trying to be strong for May because she was worried, too, and you—and you, I—I thought I wasn’t gonna ever—I thought—Jesus, Peter, you don’t think, you don’t—’ Tony bends over, clutching at his arm and breathing hard through his mouth.”

Dead In There, You’re Dead In There by iron_spider

Summary: “Peter, you’ve been acting insane for the past however many days and it’s giving me an ulcer, what’s going on, what did I do? Tell me. Tell me and I’ll fix it.’ Peter is still stalking around, and Friday is listing off his injuries, from a concussion to broken ribs to a sprained ankle, and Tony feels sick looking at it all. ‘You’ll fix it,’ Peter says, glancing over at him with pure disdain, the look bookended by matching explosions somewhere behind them. ‘Yeah it’s something you can’t fix, if it happens, nope, can’t fix it, it would just—but you’re just saying—’ Tony starts forward towards him. ‘Pete, explain to me what’s happening, please.’ ‘The protocol, the protocol,’ Peter insists, waving his hands through the air. Tony shakes his head. ‘The protocol?’ ‘The Avalon Protocol, Tony,’ Peter spits out, with venom.”

Dead-Eyed by iron_spider

Summary: “Hey,’ Tony says, fast, into the phone. ‘Everything alr—’ ‘Hey, no, I don’t know where he is,’ MJ says, in a rush of breath. ‘I don’t know where he is, Tony, and I know I have access to that tracking thing, but it feels weird for me to do that, and it doesn’t feel weird for you to do that, so you should do that. And find him and tell me what’s going on.’ ‘Okay, calm down,’ Tony says, getting up and stepping back from his workstation. ‘You know you can’t tell me to calm down, because I’m calm, and I’m always calmer than you because you’re like, inherently, not calm. At all, about anything, but especially about your family—’ ‘Okay, this is not calm,’ Tony says, starting to pace, even though he’s not calm either, she’s right. She sighs loudly in his ear. ‘When was the last time you saw him?”

Earthly Dust From Off Thee Shaken by ExpectoPatronum

Summary: “It had started with leaving his bedroom light on at night before he went to sleep. For a while, that had been enough. But then it wasn't.”

“Forever” by WithACherryOnTop

Summary: “Peter could feel the darkness creeping up on him again, like it had only moments earlier in the Avengers Compound bullpen. ‘‘ony.’ ‘Just go to sleep, bud.’ Tony gently scratched his nails at the nape of Peter’s neck. Peter collapsed bonelessly in Tony’s arms, all evidence of the tears, crying, and sobs hidden except for a stained shirt and the boy’s even, congested breaths. Tony wiped a hand over his face, a bit flustered. ‘Wow. That went way worse than I expected." Disclaimer: All characters belong to Marvel and/or Sony. I do not give permission for this work to be copied and/or posted to any other sites.

Gonna Pick Up The Pieces by orphan_account

Summary: “I don’t want to talk to you,’ Peter says. He’s been hiding for the better part of an hour, sitting in the cabin’s laundry room, wedged between the washer and the dryer. Something about the sounds coming off of them calms him, weirdly. The swish of water, the rumble of the motors, cotton rubbing cotton, the button on a pair of jeans dinging the side of the barrel. ‘That’s bullshit,’ Tony says. ‘You always want to talk to me.’ As true as that usually is, this time it rings discordant and tense. Peter clenches his jaw. ‘Not really,’ he says. ‘You just sorta assume that.’ ‘Of course I do. I make for lovely conversation.’ ‘Eh.”

Head’s On The Fritz by augustheart

Summary: "Hello?’ ‘Tony?’ ‘The one and only. What’s up, kiddo?’ The answer rises up in Peter's throat. Stops at the back of his tongue and wobbles there, heavy and leaden. He wants to spit it out, to cough it into the unbearable silence, to not be loud—but, to be steady. ‘I—’ he says. He trembles. ‘Can you—come over? Please?" Or: Tony makes things better

Hold Me Together by An_Odd_Idea

Summary: “Peter still doesn’t feel quite solid. Sometimes Tony can’t believe he’s really there either. They cope.”

I Have You by sweetspiderstew

Summary: “Tony has Peter all to himself, and there's nothing else like some good quality time in the workshop, but little mishaps happen, and there's a lot of hugging.”

I’ll Be Right Here by An_Odd_Idea

Summary: “Peter has a nightmare, and Tony goes to be sure he’s okay. It’s not the first one of its kind.”

It Came At Night by Marvelous_Writer

Summary: “What’s supposed to be a normal weekend visit to the Compound turns into one of disaster when unexpected visitors show up." (Set after Spider-Man: Homecoming) Whumptober Day Five: Gunpoint

It’s Time to Leave (and Turn to Dust) by hopeless_hope

Summary: "We’re going to help you, I promise, but you’ve got to trust me. Do you trust me?’ Peter looks at his mentor, fear written across his face. He raises a shaking hand back to Tony’s chest, and Tony places his hand over the kid’s. Peter closes his eyes and feels the hard surface of the arc reactor against his palm. Peter doesn’t like soft things, but this isn’t soft. It’s solid and steady and strong and feels like a truth he can believe in. It feels like presence. ‘Yeah, I trust you." (In which Peter has trouble coping with the events of Infinity War, but a certain Tony Stark is there to help.)

Meltdown by inkinmyheartandonthepage

Summary: “You said two-thirty,’ Peter said, acting as if he hadn’t heard Tony. ‘I forgot that you changed it to two thirty and not three.’ Tony took a step towards Peter. ‘Hey, Pete. It’s fine. You’re not that late kiddo. Hell, I’ve been to board meetings hours late.’ The joke didn’t land, and Peter’s eyes started to well with tears. He took in a hiccupping breath. ‘Oh god. I forgot. I forgot." Or: Peter isn't coping after Titan and has been doing everything to keep busy and not think about it. Everything comes to head when he forgets that a time was changed in his busy schedule leading to a meltdown.

Mine, And Yours by crowkag

Summary: “Is it Peter?’ He was met with loaded silence. The anxiety spark became an anxiety plunge and twist. ‘Happy. Is it Peter?’ ‘It’s… well. Who else would it be, right?’ ‘Hogan.’ He hated this. The spark, the plunge, the twist. The tension creeping from his shoulder blades, clawing down arms both flesh and metal, somehow, someway, and bunching up inside his palms. The hysteria of it all. ‘It’s—alright, I won’t sugarcoat it. The kid’s alive, but he got shot, Tony. Twice." Or: Tony reunites with Peter in a less-than-ideal manner.

Relax, Just Breathe by hailfire_73

Summary: “Tony,’ said Peter, lifting his head from the glass, his stubbornness spent. ‘I don’t feel so—’ ‘Do not,’ said Tony, through gritted teeth, and meeting Peter’s eyes in the rearview mirror. He had just one hand on the steering wheel as he drove them into the night. ‘Finish that sentence.’ Morgan leaned over, hung out of her booster seat, and whispered, ‘It gives dad attacks." Or: The Starks go on a road trip that goes wrong when Peter gets food poisoning from questionable carnival food.

Scars Can Heal And Reveal Just Where You Are by parkrstark

Summary: “Jesus Christ, Pete,’ the voice says again, and it's not just a voice. It's a voice that belongs to the shadow. The shadow is light in the dark. It's warm. ‘What are you doing on the floor? You're lucky you're by your bed or else it would have been you breaking my fall.’ Peter blinks at the shadow and can't tell if he's comforted or irritated by the new company. ‘What? No quip about me breaking a hip?’ There's silence. ‘Peter?"

Shots Ring Out by itsluckyyou

Summary: “Peter Parker had training. Training to deal with robbers, petty crime, and possible alien invasions. Nothing could have possibly trained him for this, though." Or: There's a shooter wandering the halls of Midtown School of Science and Technology.

The Pills (They Gotta Go) by searchingforstars

Summary: “Tony. What are these?’ Tony glances up. Sees the packs of pills clenched in Peter’s fist. He’s sure some of them must be dust judging by the force that Peter is holding them with. ‘My pills?’ ‘Why are they sitting at the back of the pantry?’ Peter asks, voice dangerously low." Or: Tony decides taking his medication is optional. Peter strongly disagrees.

We All Have A Hunger by MotherKarizma

Summary: “Morgan,’ he croaked, throat afire, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘Hey—hey, it’s okay, I’m just…’ ‘You’re sick.’ She mustered up something like bravery, using it to straighten her back and plaster a very grown-up look on her face. ‘I’ll get Daddy!’ ‘No!’ Morgan jumped, eyes wide. Peter fought to calm his voice. He offered her a smile that couldn’t have been convincing, not even to a five-year-old. ‘No, you don’t have to. I feel better now. You don’t have to tell him.’ Morgan’s lips wobbled. Peter knew what her fake pout looked like well enough to know this wasn’t it. ‘Petey…’ Peter had a lot of reasons to feel guilty. He felt guilty for scaring her. He felt guilty for forgetting to lock his bedroom door, for making scaring her a possibility. He kind of, in a way, felt guilty for doing it in the first place, though not nearly enough to stop. But more than anything, he felt guilty for this: ‘Morgan, promise me you won’t tell him. He…he won’t let us swim anymore if you do. And I’m not sick, my tummy just hurt a little bit, but I’m all better now. Promise me you won’t tell him, okay?’ ‘But…’ ‘Morgan. Promise.”

We’re Here by An_Odd_Idea

Summary: “Comfortember prompt 3: Nightmares Peter has nightmares about when Thanos stabbed Tony on Titan”

Who Needs a Happy New Year When You Can Have a Happy Forever? by searchingforstars

Summary: “Peter's already feeling insecure about his place in Stark family holiday traditions, but it turns out it doesn't really matter because New Year’s Eve is significantly less fun when you’re a pair of PTSD-riddled superheroes, anyway." Or: Tony has a panic attack in a Burger King.

Without You (I Was Broken) by parkrstark

Summary: "How did you get shot? You just webbed me up 5 stories from being shot!’ ‘D-Didn’t know it was coming.’ ‘Dammit, Peter! This isn’t the first time your spidey sense hasn’t worked. I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt because Rhodey told me I was being insane. Why didn’t you tell me it wasn’t always working? You shouldn’t go out into battle like this when your powers are being wonky and—’ ‘You’re here.’ ‘What?’ ‘You’re here.’ He takes a deep breath. ‘I don’t...I can’t really feel the danger when you’re around."

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whomeidontknowthem · 2 months

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My guiltiest whumpy pleasure of all is, I think, Whumpers who are forced to torture Whumpees, not having a choice in this -- be it because of having to obey their boss, blackmail, trying to save the whumpee through something worse, even just not knowing how else to be.

There's something in the reluctance and guilt that doesn't erase the damage done that gets to me. Whumper's hands trembling when they see Whumpee flinch away from them in terror. The memories of blood on their hands that keep them awake at night. The terrible, soul dissolving guilt of having done something so terrible to another human being. Where do they get the resolve to steady their hands and pick up the knife?

One of the first daydreaming stories I came up with when I was maybe nine or ten, had my self-insert MC be tortured terribly by that one evil king. They fought against the king and were taken captive and suffered greatly, and hated the king passionately, until he managed to let them know the truth: that he was controlled by an even eviller deity and had no choice in the pain he had caused. I had the MC make a deal with that deity, their soul in exchange for the king's. He was thrown away and went straight to the MC's allies, telling them about everything, begging them to believe him and to follow his plan.

It wasn't a very good story (point me to a single child whose was), but the idea still haunts me. Having no say in the pain you caused, having to live with the guilt and the hate, not being allowed to even acknowledge how much you have suffered because you are the monster in this story. There's something in it that is just. So impactful for me.

Nowadays it's often less black and white. Simplistic Whumpers who torture just because they want to are fun! I often have them when I want to focus on the Whumpee. Seeing someone cope with horrors is always so very interesting to me.

But Whumpers who have reasons to do what they do? Who justify it to themselves? Who don't seek to cause unnecessary pain? Who are gentle not as a part of a twisted game but because they genuinely want to make it as easy as it can be? Who change their attitude daily because they can't but they have to, or they don't even know what they want and go from one extreme to the other? There's something special in it.

Whumpers who are Whumpees in their own right. Whose suffering does not erase the pain they'd caused, who are rightfully seen as monsters but are humans, with all the pain that comes with this affliction.

#whump #whump prompt #whumper #whumpee #whumper is whumpee #whumpblr #whump thoughts

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rosemelon82 · 9 months

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Light on Series: Sisyphus whump list (cn)

I took over this list from @love-me-a-lotta-whump so go check out their awesome whump lists if you're looking for some good whumpy series to watch! ;)

Synopsis:

After his daughter Duo Duo dies, Zhang Hai Feng quits his job as a police officer. However, he cannot continue his peaceful life for long because a serial murder case reveals new evidence about the accident that led to Duo Duo's death. Zhang Hai Feng pursues the serial murderer and dies with him. When he wakes up, he is back to the day before he dies and decides to make use of the wormhole to save Duo Duo. Eventually, he starts to unravel the deeply hidden secrets of the people around him and the web of conspiracy that was planted 20 years ago. (paraphrased from KissAsian)

Genre: Crime, Mystery, Sci-fi

Whumpees:

Zhao Bin Bin played by Lu Han

Zhang Hai Feng played by Wang Qian Yuan

Other whumpees listed in orange

TW: SUICIDE, MURDER, DEATH

MAJOR SPOILERS BELOW

01:

Zhao Bin Bin:

09:18 - 11:20 - in an interrogation room, interrogated, defiant

16:49 - 19:41 - in an interrogation room, stressed, crying, (flashback: panicked), manhandled, choked, coughing

21:20 - 22:37 - poisoned, chest pain, seizing, foaming at the mouth, rolled into the hospital, handcuffed to a stretcher, unconscious, still handcuffed to the stretcher, unconscious, dazed, weak

29:35 - 30:00 - headbutted (is that a word?), falls backwards, sort of falls of a building, dies

Zhang Hai Feng:

11:20 - 20:48 - depressed, drinking, angry, chokes someone, manhandled, taken away

28:00 - 30:00 - out of breath, dealing with a hostage situation that also includes a bomb, bluffing, shot at, shot in the chest, bomb explodes, dies

02:

Zhao Bin Bin:

07:40 - 08:33 - chased

Fu Jialiang:

13:40 - end of episode - drugged, kidnapped, tied up and duct tape on his mouth, panicked, yelling, has a bomb strapped to him, taken away in an ambulance

03:

Zhao Bin Bin:

16:45 - 20:19 - hit in the head, bleeding, still bloody, trying to find ths person he kidnapped

34:20 - end of episode - shot in the arm, taken away by the police, stumbling, manhandled by police, bloody hand, laid on a stretcher and put into ambulance, treated in the ambulance, in an explosion, dies

Zhang Hai Feng:

end of episode - dies in explosion

04:

Zhang Hai Feng:

beginning of episode - wakes up hazy

(not related to whump but holy fuck this episode was crazy im- what the fuck?????)

05:

Zhao Bin Bin:

throughout episode - interrogated multiple times, accused

end of episode - interrogated in an interrogation room

06:

Lei Qiang:

18:07 - 20:14 - on the run, almost hit by a car, jumps off a roof, hurts leg, interrogated

07 & 08:

none

09:

Zhao Bin Bin:

beginning of episode - shown beaten, glasses askew, bloody nose

Zhang Hai Feng:

end of episode - loss of loved ones, grieving

10:

none

11:

Liu Yuqi:

19:47 - 22:54 - stabbed, pushes the knife further in, death

12:

TW: SUICIDE

Zhao Bin Bin:

end of episode - commits suicide?

Review of drama:

Quite interesting. I personally really like the inception style of the drama. It's a very mindfuck style drama and I like that. It's also interesting to see how the "timelines" or memory lines or whatever they are called differ when he makes different choices but still somehow relate to the main timeline. I recommend watching this drama if you prefer to be confused while watching but at the same time very intrigued by each episode. I hope you enjoy and stay tuned for another whump list soon! (sorry to @love-me-a-lotta-whump for taking so long to do this)

#sisyphus #lu han #zhao bin bin #chinese drama whump #chinese actor #chinese #mindfuck #whump list #whump

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lottieleeweekend · 3 months

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Hello Lottielee Nation!

By popular (in some circles) demand, LOTTIELEE WEEKEND 2 will be held THIS SEPTEMBER, FRIDAY THE 13TH THROUGH MONDAY THE 16TH, coinciding with the Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross.

As a reminder, Lottielee Weekend is a fandom event to celebrate, analyze, and generally come together over the relationship between Lottie Matthews and Laura Lee from the TV show Yellowjackets. While Lottielee Weekend will focus on the idea of a romantic connection between Lottie and Laura Lee, any and all fanworks—fic, art, edits, vids, meta, playlists—focusing on any facet of their relationship are welcome.

Each day will have an optional theme to spark your creativity, plus alternative prompts taken from St. Bonaventure's assessment of the Creation in Sententiarum Lib. II Dist. II Part. I Art. II Quaest. III.:

Day 1: Missing/Extended Scene

Lottie and Laura Lee get, in some chronologies of Yellowjackets canon, three days as each other's People between Lottie's baptism and Laura Lee's death. Give them more! Pre-crash, within that all-too-brief canon timeframe, after Laura Lee's death with apparitions or hallucinations, whatever you wish. Bonus points for making this one canon-compliant and expanding on things implicitly present in the show, but no pressure.

Alternative prompt: The angelic substance

Day 2: 5+1

Remember this format? It's a lot of fun, and used to be very popular. Five times Lottie and Laura Lee didn't kiss and one time they did; five times Lottie remembers Laura Lee and one time she doesn't; that sort of thing.

Alternative prompt: The fiery heavens

Day 3: Mourning/Grief

Here's your chance to cut loose and make it good and whumpy (not that canon needs much help with that). Really dig into Lottie's feelings, or maybe even into Laura Lee's feelings in a role-reversal AU.

Alternative prompt: Matter

Day 4: Free Choice

Lottie and Laura Lee don't get a ton of agency over their all-too-limited time together in Yellowjackets canon, but you do. If you've felt bound to the prompts on previous days and want to cut loose, here's where to do it.

More-optional-than-usual alternative prompt: Time

Some ground rules: Lottielee Weekend is for everyone. Clearly warn for explicit sexual content or for any gore or brutality that goes beyond what we see in Yellowjackets canon. Do not bash other ships, although criticizing or problematizing them (or even criticizing or problematizing Lottielee! We love them, but they're not without fault) is fine. Above all else, have fun, or what passes for fun with a ship as tragic as our poor doomed prophet and saint.

We will be tracking #lottieleeweekend and sharing submissions on this blog once the event begins. Feel free to use the hashtag on other platforms as well!

#lottieleeweekend #lottielee #yellowjackets #lottie matthews #laura lee #lottie lee

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chaotic-orphan · 2 months

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Found fictional story/novel

So... I have found a fictional novel that I wrote over the last ten years that I had completely forgotten about, and then, once I found it again, I realised there is so much of it - like 90,000 words much of it - and it is a lot to comb through and I kind of shut down mentally when I found it but I am working more now on updates for the WIPS I have on Tumblr!

So you can Expect updates soon in:

Delirious Villain x hero caretaker,

Heroic betrayal,

Intoxicating fear (updates every Saturday) (from now) :)

Vendetta,

and, A Benignant Mischief

which are all started in the drafts!

Updates continued under cut

(*not necessary* to read as it is mostly rambles and ranting about the novel I found (and others), but I want to share some fun revelations I found while skimming it)

There are some whumpy scenes from the novel that I may post as I find them, cause some of them are very whumpy, and I enjoyed reading them~

The plot has a lot of male characters which is both interesting and annoying— interesting because I love the two brothers dynamic, even not even blood related, like two brothers joined together by fate, blood, prophecy etc. Annoying because it’s obvious that I looked at the media I was surrounded with and was like “nobody wants to read about women, if they did, there would be more women centric things” so I’ll write about boys!

Point 2 Contd. (Rant!) Obviously discounting the genre of YA dystopian fiction which was great, and populated by mainly female protagonists, and which I enjoyed, but then, were shit on by the mainstream media because GIRLS CAN’T FIGHT? Girls can’t be the main driving force of a novel? Girls suck, boo girls, unless they’re tom boys or men. Ahem, thank you for your input on teenage girl’s book choices FORTY YEAR OLD WHITE MEN :D WHERE WOULD WE BE WITHOUT YOU

Part 2+3 contd. (the brightside!) However, the good thing about this is that I can populate the rest of the novel with strong female characters! There are a few dotted through who i dote on a bit, I love them, like come here my little beautiful minority <3

The plot centers around two brothers who get torn apart when outlaw's raid in their coastal village - actually, my newest Medieval WIP was inspired by the novel!! Same setting/vibe (as in the coastal village) so very fun

This to say that actually I think the new Medieval WIP is my brain trying to flesh the world out more and see what the average people would do in the world… but it’s a story in its own right too!

There are magic, gods, good gods and bad gods ofc, ancients, bloodlines, descendants, royalty, soldiers, outlaws, magic schools, political intrigue - like it is a mix of everything I have loved over the years which is so funny to see because clearly I haven't changed...

The dialogue?!?!? I don't think I have written like that ever, but the dialogue is so much better than the dialogue I write today and idk why? Maybe because I wrote it off a sudden throng of inspiration or something? But, fuck, how do I write like that again? I mean, without editing, because the amount of editing I had to do to make the novel READABLE wasn't funny, it took so long... it's finished now though, just the editing, NOTHING else - give me strength, I need it

Also, realised that I hate editing - is it something new? Not really, but holy moly... editing sucks, but it also?? Improves the story and fluidity so much, I should start editing my pieces before I publish and come off as far more eloquent than I do

Planning... is also so difficult - 90% of the novel is like this:

Scene X: completed Me: ah, good, that scene is written, I can move on to the next one Me, still staring at Scene X: ...move on now My brain: but what if it happened like this? PROVIDES SEVEN DIFFERENT ALTERNATE ENDINGS TO THE SCENE THAT WEREN'T NECESSARY AND NOW I HAVE TO CUT SO MUCH CRAP BUT MY BRAIN'S STILL LIKE - BUT WHAT IF?

My brain's literally like the writer's brain from Hush, such a good movie... ANYWAYS!!!!

That's the end of all my ramblings for today, was this post necessary? No, but like, I clearly wanted to get it off my chest and vent so we live, laugh, love... I hope all your days are going well :3

~ Orphan,

(P.S. - I'm toying with the idea of dropping my nickname in the bio, or doing a whole overhaul of the blog - the name, the layout... get rid of orphan, or maybe just become "nickname_the orphan", or something. But, see orphans are just so whumpy though I love a good orphan story... thoughts, ideas, waste management? I'm just dunking all my overflow of thoughts on this update today, but sure, look, be grand — I’m truly sorry if you read this far, I am having an ✨episode✨)

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whump-me · 3 months

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

This seems like a great opportunity to plug a show I haven't seen anyone else here on whumplr talking about: Colony. Do you like sci-fi whump? Dystopian whump? Interrogations? Brutal betrayals? Do yourself a favor and watch this.

Basic premise: aliens have invaded the earth, but don't allow humans to see or speak to them directly; humans are prisoners in their own cities living under brutal repression; one of our heroes is blackmailed into working for the aliens (which earns you a cushy life and the contempt of all your friends) while the other (his wife) is, unbeknownst to him, working for the human resistance. And this show wrings every bit of potential whump out of that already very whumpy premise.

It's got beautifully terrible moral choices. It's got a freshly-interrogated rebel, bleeding and struggling to walk, being paraded through a classy party full of collaborators for seemingly no reason other than to deliver a few extra whumperflies. It's got that guy from Lost who looks so good bruised and bleeding that the gifs were the main reason I started watching the show. This is high-quality whump, people.

@whumpmasinjuly-archive

#wij24day5 #whumpmasinjuly2024

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contentloadingandstuff · 2 years

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Childe, Scaramouche and Kazuha(separately) X Reader where they are somehow forced to kill them in a very uh... dark way which is basically to make it look like suicide, Cut open both their arms and let them bleed out.. and if you want how they would save you after(Like already bleeding but the people forcing them to do it are gone) or react to your death.

I know its fucked up but I just have a thing for angst I'm sorry

One whumpy-angsty fic, coming right up.

TW: Suicide, assisted suicide, swearing in Scara's part, blood, violence, strangulation, errors in writing (hopefully none, but I'm putting this here just to be sure).

A/N: Thank you for my first request. I hope it's to your liking, or at least satisfaction! :>

A/N v. 2: Heitai means 'soldiers' in Japanese. Kazuha's part is worse than the rest, as I don't really feel his character. Also, Childe may be a bit ooc.

Childe

There was no chaos, no state of high alert after Pantalone was found dead. Nothing, besides tense radio silence.

Just hours after you finished your meeting with him the scene was discovered by one of the maids. No mess of documents, broken furniture, or any signs of struggle for that matter. He was found slumped against one of his bookshelves, bright blood soaking the exquisite floorboards. Only a single, precise slice at his throat was discovered, leading to the conclusion that he was assassinated. Yet no signs of forced entry were sighted. His killer must have entered through the front of the headquarters, unbothered by guards, and made their way up to the office itself. They had to leave the same way as well. Either the killer is a master of disguise, or someone from the inside.

You know well who is the culprit. The HQ is aware just as much. If the trail of dead skirmishers and diplomats wasn't obvious enough, the stolen intel considering the Harbinger's current locations sure is. The Eleven know for sure, but making the figure of a lone, masked avenger public would stir up unrest among the common soldiers and citizens.

You saw the soft knock at your door coming from a mile away. But what you didn't expect was your best friend's face in the doorway.

You look up from your paperwork, a sad smile decorating your face. Childe returns the gesture, but it quickly turns back into a slight frown. Before he closes the door, you catch a glimpse of a Fatui agent in full gear behind him.

You stare at each other for a while. The silence between you is somewhat comforting.

"I know why you're here." You say, rising up from your armchair.

He stays quiet, looking away from you. He seems pensive. "I'm sorry."

"It's none of your fault, Ajax." You place a hand on his shoulder. "Fate has decided."

He looks you in the eye. You can clearly see the conflict on his face.

"What are my options?", you ask.

He sighs.

"They gave you two. One, you'll be officially tried for Pantalone's murder. Command will strip your honors, and hang you in a public display. Your family will be sent to a penal colony for assisting a criminal. Or the second choice."

He stretches out his arm. In his open palm lies a transparent container, filled with a white substance.

" What will happen to my family then?" You ask, taking it from his hand. He moves to take it back, but stops himself. You twirl the capsule in your hand, watching the potassium cyanide fly around.

"They will be safe. You will also be buried with full military honors. Officially, they'll say you killed yourself."

You can't hold back a chuckle. The Illusion of choice.

You sit down back at the desk. Breathe in, breathe out. So that's how it feels to be a scapegoat, huh? With one quick move you place the capsule in and bite down. As the foul, bitter taste hits your tongue, you cringe. You have to cover your mouth to keep yourself from throwing up. Childe looks on, unsure of what to do or say. As the poison starts to take effect, your breathing becomes erratic.

You can't draw in a full breath, and that's when the realisation finally hits you.

You are going to die.

Tartaglia rushes to your side when you fail to get up, gasping for air like a fish removed from the water. Your hands fly around, looking for something to hold onto as you hyperventilate.

You are going to die. You are going to die. You are going to die you are going to die you are goingtodieyouaregoingtodie-

"Hey hey hey, hey. Look at me. Please." Childe whispers as your fingers pry into his shoulders, hard enough to draw blood. "Just… J-just listen to my voice, alright?"

You barely hear him. His face blurs in your teary eyes, becoming an unrecognizable mess of pink, red and orange. You manage to nod.

"Tired." That's all you can force out. How pathetic. It's your last coherent thought. You don't fight back the heaviness of your eyelids, letting them close for the final time.

With nothing to control your body, the grip on his shoulder grows weaker and weaker each second. The lungs slow down, soon leaving your chest completely still. In his arms holds you your dearest friend and murderer, Ajax. He feels how limp, how unmoving and just how dead your figure is.

Childe would never cry - he despises weakness after all. But Ajax won't try to stop the tears from staining his cheeks. Nothing matters in his mind as he holds your ever colder body for minutes on end.

His voice comes out shaky and hushed.

"Sleep well, Y/N."

Scaramouche

"So how will it be, Kunikuzushi?"

The Wanderer growls at the puppet in response, looking up at her with pure hatred in his eyes. The soldier presses his boot down on the captive's back, forcing him even lower to the ground. A spear's tip is placed at his throat.

"It's either you both or only them." The Shogun points at you, face forced right against the dirt by another soldier's boot. Scaramouche gives no response, choosing to murder Ei with his hateful look instead. She hums, displeased, motioning to one of her men. He lifts his spear to his shoulder and strikes it down.

"Wait! Wait! I… I'll do it. Just get your filthy hands away from them!"

The spear halts a hair’s breadth from you.His struggles grow more intense and desperate. The mortal soldier fails to keep him down, and Scaramouche returns to kneeling.

"A wise choice." She nods, and her underling moves away. Your throat is unharmed, at least for now. "However, since you dared to keep me waiting, the method is mine to choose."

"YOU FUCKING BITCH!" He suddenly screams, losing his composure. He thrashes around, feeling the familiar, soul crushing type of anger he hasn't felt in years.

"SILENCE!" Ei's commanding tone strikes everything around her like lightning itself. Even her men flinch. In a swift movement, she retrieves the Musou no Hitotachi, and places it millimeters away from your neck. "May I remind you - I can always change my mind, filth."

Scaramouche feels the bindings on his wrists loosen. Two heitai force him to his feet. You too are lifted, but still bound with hands behind your back. Both of you are shoved forward. Your friend keeps his balance, but you land on the wet grass, face first. As you struggle to get back up, a piece of rope is thrown between you and him.

“Proceed.” Ei crosses her arms, and looks on as Kunikuzushi eyes the object. He hesitates for a moment, looking at your bound and defenseless form. With a growl, he picks up the tool, and charges you. After tackling you to the ground, he wraps the rope around your neck and sits you up. Standing behind you, he pulls the rope into your throat.

It bites down into the sensitive skin, closing your airways. The sheer force of the movement makes you gasp in surprise. The pain is growing rapidly. You start kicking up your legs in a desperate attempt to escape his clutches. In response he pulls harder, knuckles becoming white with how hard he grips the hemp. Various moans, gasps and gurgles fall out of your lips, as more and more black spots appear in your vision. The lack of oxygen quickly gets to you, and after just a few seconds of strangulation your consciousness leaves you.

Scaramouche holds the rope down, tears appearing in his eyes. He can’t stand the gargles, the gasps. They make him feel sick. Sick with himself, sick with this entire scenario he got himself into. After a few agonising seconds, your kicking ceases, and your body falls limp on his leg. Kuni keeps strangling you for a while longer, until finally letting you go. Your frame plops down to the ground, still.

Everything around him is quiet. Only Ei’s voice breaks the tension.

“Well done. Now, throw them off the edge.” She motions to a nearby steep bank.

“Why?” is all the man can ask, too weak to bite back once more.

“Prove to me they are dead, my general.”

Without a word, he lifts you up in his arms. He carries you, bridal style, to the rocky edge. As he approaches the brink, he feels you move in his arms. Your chest rises up, and falls down again.

To say Scaramouche was happy would be the understatement of the century.

He stops dead in his tracks, whispering thanks to the gods above, forgetting his disdain for them in the moment. But soon his joy gives way to panic. What now? The Shogun is still watching him, he made a deal, is there a way out of here, what to do?

“What’s the problem, general? Are you having second thoughts about our agreement?”

“N-no.” Scaramouche tries his best to sound as broken as possible. He quickly runs up to the edge, and throws you down.

He stumbles back theatrically, falling to his knees. He doesn’t look back at the soldiers.

“You have made a wise decision indeed, puppet.” Ei says, more to herself than to anybody around. “I demand to see you at the Tenshukaku by nightfall. You will begin your servitude right away.”

Ei turns around to address her followers.

“If any of you are wondering, Y/N has taken their life. Anyone stating otherwise will not live to regret it. Understood?"

“Yes, your Magnificence.” They respond as one.

“Sufficient. Leave him be for now.”

With a flash of lightning, Ei withdraws to her Plane of Euthymia. Scaramouche doesn’t stand up for a good fifteen minutes, looking as heartbroken as he is able to. His head hands low, but a mocking smile is painted on his lips. Idiots.

After rising up to his feet, he makes sure everyone is gone. After confirming that he is alone, he runs back to the cliff. A gust of wind lifts your body up high enough for him to get a hold of you. He gently puts you down. Seeing you open your eyes, he erupts into laughter.

“Stupid whore. You would expect someone of this age and ego to be good at telling the dead from the living, am I right?” His tone is spiteful, as it usually is.

“... I’m fine, thank you for asking.” You reply, coughing. Your windpipe still hurts unforgivably. “You could have eased up on that rope though, Fandango man.”

“Oh you ungrateful little worm!” He turns away, a pout decorating his lips. You chuckle at the sight of his usual assholeness.”It was necessary to do so to fool her. That old crone is not that dumb.”

“Pfft. Sure, shortie.” You move to rise up, but your mind is still hazy from passing out. Scaramouche drops his grudge after seeing you struggle, helping you by slinging your arm around his neck.

“Are you alright now?” He asks, a rare hint of genuine worry in his tone.

“Yeah, I think I am. Oh. Wait.” A sudden hit of nausea leaves your head spinning. “I think I’m gonna puke-”

Scara yelps, quickly rushing behind you. He still holds you, but keeping a reasonable distance now.

“Eek! Just not on me!”

Kazuha

“Nah, that won’t happen, Kazuha.” You sigh, bumping your head against the cold, stone wall. “Do you think they would attempt a rescue mission in the middle of Inazuma City to recover the most well-guarded prisoner in this war?”

Kazuha is fiddling with his clothes, deep in thought. He rubs the uncleaned mud between his fingers, watching it crumple to the ground. “Kokomi has a plan for everything. She must be pre-”

“Listen!” You shout, even though you didn’t mean to. “Kokomi has a plan for everything, yes. But what guarantee do you have for my rescue being included in her scheme? She most likely will take on a new strategy and do a switch of personnel to reduce the impact of me spilling the beans.”

“Will you though?”

“Kazuha. They’re going to torture me until I either tell them what I know or die of my injuries.” You clench your fists. The stories you’ve heard from released captives did nothing to ease your worries. “And I don’t see myself enduring having my kneecaps removed while I’m conscious. Or pouring barrels upon barrels of filthy water down my throat.”

Your friend is silent. He is aware that this will most likely be the case.

“The intel I carry is vital. With it the Shogunate could easily send agents to kill the people I name. They would know what our plan for the next month is, where HQ members live…” You lower your arms to the floor, hands rubbing against the dust and grime of your cell. You absent-mindedly look for anything interesting. It was the third day of being here, and the boredom was getting unbearable.

Your fingers suddenly clutch something cold and hard. You lift it up to your eyes, and squint them to see what it was.

A sharp piece of rock. It must have fallen out of the wall recently. The feeling of your fingers on its sharp edge gives you an idea.

“Hey, look at this.” You show him the piece of debris, and handed it to your cell neighbor. He inspects it slowly, both with his fingers and eyes.

“Yes! We can use this against the guards. If I stab them correctly, that would create an opportunity to escape.” Kazuha smiles, and looks back at you. His expression darkens when he sees your head shake in disagreement.

“That’s not what I was thinking…” You suddenly regret telling him this in the first place.

“You’re joking, right?” He looks at you, practically begging for confirmation.

“No. As I said already, the knowledge in my hands could lose us this war. I can’t let them have it.” You say, taking the rock back by force. You’re lucky he stands right next to the bars separating you. “I have to.”

“No, you don’t, Don’t even try, alright?” His voice is clearly agitated.

He shudders as you put the edge to your wrist. You press down and try to drag it along, but the spiking pain makes you pull back. So you try again, deaf to Kazuha's pleas. After the fifth, you groan in frustration.

"Huh. Looks like I can't really bring myself to do it." You say to yourself, out loud. "I may need your help."

What. It's all Kazuha can think right now.

"Are you seriously asking me to slit your veins?" He asks with disbelief. His attempts at hiding his fear bear no fruit, as his voice comes out as hushed.

You approach the bars, and place your forehead against them.

"Kazuha, my brother. What I know can't get into their hands, else hundreds will suffer. There is no other way. Please."

"They will come for us, eventually. You just have to hold out-"

You sigh.

"Kazu, listen. Until then, if it ever happens, the purples will have the advantage. And I can't allow that. It lies in my duty to protect my people. Please, treat it as your final act of kindness."

He doesn't say anything as you place the makeshift blade in his hands. The white haired male swallows. You stretch your hands into his cell.

"F-fine." He says. "If that's your wish, I'll do it."

After placing the blade on your skin, he pauses.

"I w-will cut now. Be prepared."

And with a decisive movement, the blade splits you open. Bright red blood starts to come out of the wound. You shudder. The stinging is... annoying. Not very painful, but the sight of your own vitality seeping out is enough to make you cringe. Kazuha notices this. Seeing you hurt, especially by him, places tears in his eyes. The second cut earns him a whine from your lips.

You pull back, and so does he.

"Give... give me the rock." You huff out. It feels awkwardly... sleepy.

Kazuha returns it without question, but your arms refuse to clench around it. You back up against the wall you were originally propped up on, sliding down to a sitting position. You place your hands, now bloodied, on the freezing cobble. Your hands hurt to move. You choose to let your eyes close on their own, unwilling to extend the struggle.

"Kazu." You mumble.

"Yes?"

"Talk to me, please." You cough, and the wounds hurt more. You whince. "I don't want to die alone. Please."

"I... Sure. Of course." He pauses, trying to find the right words for small talk with a dying man. "So... what's your favorite... plant?"

He only stopped talking after your corpse fell over.

Only silence was left in the room.

Thank you for reading!

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whumperofworlds · 4 months

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Rules here!

(TW: SUICIDE UNDER CUT)

Whumpee, who is royalty, is taken captive by Whumper and is held on a cliff in exchange for the Macguffin the team has. The team arrived with the Macguffin, and their plan was going smoothly... then it went very wrong. The team then has to decide on whether to give up the Macguffin or not to Whumper.

Whumpee, however, made the decision for them--they jumped off the cliff and killed themself, to the team's horror and grief (with Whumpee's sibling, Caretaker, trying to save them to no avail). With Whumpee dead, the team had no choice but to flee with the Macguffin, and Whumpee's death had caused not only grief to their team, but also to Whumper's team, as many deserted them.

What piece of media does this whumpy scene come from? Tell me via replies here, reblog, ask, etc! You have 24 hours!

#piece of media whump scene #whump #whump scene #suicide tw #major character death #hostage situation #held for ransom #grief whump

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allthingswhumpyandangsty · 1 year

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Your inbox was named "do your worst" so well

I couldn't resist.

I had this idea a time ago, actually

Whumpee is a living weapon. I love this trope. They are brutally trained to be ruthless and perfect

But whumpee is a kind soul. It hurts them everytime they have to hurt/kill someone. They can't manage to erase their emotions, as much as they want it

One day, whumper(s) needs an information. They send whumpee to a small city and tell them: kill them all, but this person

Whumpee has no choice, so they go with some more people who work for whumper and do the damned work

They manage to capture the person, and then whumper tells them: "YOU are the one torturing them for the information"

At first, whumpee hesits. They never did it before. They don't want to. They end up following the order but is more than they can handle.

The second whumpee keeps asking to be killed, asking them to stop, to just die, and whumpee gives up one day

They don't complain about killing people anymore. Certainly taking lifes, even as heartcrushing as it is, is better than inflicting that much pain.

As long no one's being tortured.

Whumpee can't forget Second Whumpee's screams.

AND!

Whumper manage to pick the information they want another way. But whumpee disobeyed them. They won't go without punishment

Whumper captures another person and tells to whumpee to torture this one too, "but without killing"! They'll only die when whumper says they had enough. Whumper knows whumpee is a very empathetic person. They'll use their feelings as a punishment.

"If you kill Third Whumpee too soon, next time I'm bringing two more to be tortured, did you understood?"

Whumpee has no choice. Their heart breaks at every scream, every needle, every muzzle, every blade

But they continue. They don't want it to get worse.

Sorry if it's too long or too specific, I was actually doing this to a character of mine, but I kinda gave up because it was too whumpy, it was before I joined the community. Didn't want to let this idea die. Feel free to use, or maybe tell this idea to someone. As long as you're tagging me.

Also, hope you're having a good week!

I love this so much!!! the whump, the angst, the shame, the guilt and the pain? perfect. I would love to do something with this, but I’m afraid my to-write list is an endless one right now and I might drive myself insane if I adopted another WIP. so I’m answering this in case it sparks some idea to anybody seeing this. if you write something based on this awesome trope, please make sure to tag @cepheusgalaxy

and I hope you have a great week too xx

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ziptiesnfries · 9 months

Text

The Party

Roux & Ambrose masterpost

tag list: @theelvishcowgirl @transgender-scout @gala1981 @laniakea0100 @spectral-whumpy-writer

Takes place later on in Roux's captivity

CWs: held at knifepoint, death threats, captivity

Roux tugs at the collar of their shirt, feeling suffocated by their stupid outfit and Ambrose’s arm wrapped around their waist. He gave them a choice of what to wear, but they didn’t trust his taste in dresses, so they went with a tux. Now, overheated beneath the layers of their outfit, they regret it. They’d feel much more exposed in a dress, but maybe they’d be able to breathe easier.

As the two of them cross the ballroom, Ambrose squeezes their waist, and Roux stiffens. “How are you doing, sweetheart?” he asks in a low voice.

If they tell him the truth—that they’re miserable and sweaty and they despise having to hang off his side while he makes conversation with his business associates—it won’t matter. He won’t head home early on their account. “I’m fine,” they say dismissively.

He smiles and pauses to tuck a loose curl behind their ear. By now, they’re beyond flinching at his touch, but there’s still an uncomfortable tingle left behind where his fingers brushed their skin. “It’s only a couple more hours,” he murmurs. “You can make it until then, can’t you?”

Well, they don’t really have a fucking choice, do they? They fake a smile back at him, and he doesn’t seem to mind their lack of verbal response as he leads them across the ballroom.

It really isn’t stately enough to be called a ballroom—more like a fancy conference room, scattered with tables and waiters serving hors d’oeuvres to rich, self-important people. Being among them makes Roux feel nauseated. Once upon a time, they would’ve only attended a function like this to do a job—rob someone, steal information, things like that. The thought makes their chest ache with longing. They miss working, and they miss being a person rather than a decoration.

They force themself to attention as Ambrose encounters a new cluster of people. He seems to know most of them, greeting them by names that Roux doesn’t quite catch and doesn’t care to remember. The inevitable question is asked by a woman with dark hair in a sophisticated dress, turning her eyes on Roux: “And who’s this?”

“This is Roux,” Ambrose says simply. That’s how he’s introduced them to everyone tonight, with no further elaboration. It’s starting to grate on Roux’s nerves.

The woman tilts her head, and Roux tries not to blush. They wish Ambrose would just come up with a lie to appease people, instead of drawing more attention to them. “And Roux is your …?” the woman begins, her voice trailing off. Business associate? Romantic partner? More like purse dog.

“My companion,” says Ambrose, giving their shoulder an affectionate pat.

Roux forces a smile as they make eye contact with the woman. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

The woman gives them a tentative smile back. “Likewise.” They’re relieved when she turns her attention back to Ambrose. “So we were just talking about …”

By that point, it feels safe for Roux to tune out, looking like they’re listening without really paying attention. Ambrose doesn’t expect them to participate, nor does he want them to. They nod at the right times, but otherwise lean against the wall and let their eyes wander.

The party isn’t very interesting, and their eyes start to glaze over as they scan the room. But, suddenly, a face across the room catches their attention—a very familiar face. They’re not even sure it’s him, but their heart starts racing anyway. They try not to get hopeful. It could be any tall guy with dark, slicked-back hair. Lots of guys look like that. But they’re almost sure …

The guy turns just right, giving Roux a clear look at his face, and their breath catches. His showy, bright smile falters as his dark eyes meet theirs. They almost can’t breathe. It’s Cruz.

Instinctively, their eyes dart over to Ambrose. He’s engrossed in a conversation, barely paying attention to Roux. When they glance back, Cruz is still standing across the room, staring at them. A surge of hope and anxiety flutters up in their chest. He tilts his head at them, probably dying to ask them where they’ve been all these months. But he doesn’t, and they immediately understand why: he’s on a job. He can’t blow his cover—and they can’t let on that they’ve recognized him, either.

Not knowing what else to do, they blink at him twice, hard, hoping he picks up the signal. That used to be kind of a joke on their team—blink twice if you need help—until they realized it was a useful way to send a message. They don’t use it often, but Roux hopes that Cruz understands.

Just to cover themself, Roux ducks their head and rubs their face, like they had something in their eye. When they look up, Cruz is gone.

They’re not sure what to make of it. But one thing is clear: they have to lose Ambrose.

When they turn back, he’s still invested in the conversation. They tug at his sleeve. “I’m going to use the bathroom,” they mutter. “It’s just over there.” They incline their head toward a side hallway they passed on the way in.

He frowns. Roux knows he doesn’t like the idea of letting them out of his sight, but it would be rude for him to abandon the group so abruptly. He keeps his voice low as he says, “You have three minutes.”

Three minutes. They’ve worked on worse time limits than that. They just hope the timing is a good enough excuse for how quickly they leave him.

They’re rushing, but a sense of relief washes over them as they step into that side hallway, out of Ambrose’s sight. How long has it been since they’ve been out in public without him breathing down their neck? It feels like they can finally breathe.

But they don’t have time to enjoy it. They move quickly, past the bathrooms, their eyes scanning the empty hall. They startle as a hand darts out of a darkened alcove and grabs their sleeve, pulling them in—and then they’re face-to-face with Cruz.

“Roux!” He looks elated to see them, gripping their shoulders like he’s afraid they’ll disappear. “I didn’t expect—where have you been?”

They want to hug him, but— “There’s no time,” they say. “He’ll start looking for me in two minutes. We have to get out of here.”

The look on his face hardens, all business, and he releases them. “I’m here on a job, but I’ll cut it short. The getaway is waiting out back.” A small, relieved grin sneaks onto his face. “The team will be so glad you’re okay.” Tentatively, they allow themself to smile back, hope bubbling up in their chest. God, they can’t wait to get back to their team.

Cruz checks both ways before leaving the alcove, and Roux follows close behind him. The hallway is deserted as the two of them make their way down it, their footsteps barely making a sound. Cruz turns a corner—

He lets out a choked noise, lurching forward and out of their sight. Roux’s stomach drops as they hurry after him, and they freeze.

Ambrose has an arm wrapped around Cruz’s chest and a knife pressed to his throat. Cruz stays perfectly still, his eyes wide—but Ambrose isn’t paying any attention to him. “Now,” Ambrose says quietly, pinning Roux with his gaze. “Just where do you think you’re going?”

Roux swallows, their eyes darting from Cruz’s panicked expression to Ambrose’s stony demeanor. They feel a surge of rage at Ambrose for ruining this so quickly. They want to swear at him, lunge and attack him—

But he would slit Cruz’s throat, and Roux would never forgive themself. A moment ago, all they could think about was getting the hell out of here. Now the only thought in their mind is how to save Cruz.

Ambrose raises an eyebrow, pressing the knife ever so slightly into Cruz’s throat. Cruz makes a small, choked noise, his eyes on Roux. He’s expecting them to attack, yell, threaten—act like themself.

They can’t. Not if they want him to live.

Tears spring up in Roux’s eyes, and they welcome it. Ambrose loves it when they cry; he says the tears bring out their eyes. Roux’s hands tremble, and they focus their watery gaze on Ambrose. “I’m—I’m sorry,” they choke out as the tears spill over their cheeks. “This is my fault, it was my idea—please, please don’t hurt him.”

They try to ignore the horror on Cruz’s face, try not to think about what must be running through his head, seeing them like this—because he’s never seen them like this. He’s seen them go through hell, but he’s never seen them cry and plead. They can’t help the shame that burns their cheeks at having to do this in front of him. They hope it makes them more convincing.

Ambrose’s gaze softens a fraction, but he keeps a tight grip on Cruz, the knife still pressed to his skin. “Tell me,” he says softly, “why I shouldn’t just slit his throat right now.”

Their stomach lurches, and the distress that surges through them isn’t an act. “Please don’t! It was my idea, I’m the one to blame, I’m sorry!”

Ambrose considers this, then says, “You wouldn’t have even tried to leave me if it wasn’t for him.” He presses the knife in deeper, drawing a bead of blood that trickles down Cruz’s neck. Roux gasps, but they force themself still.

Cruz flinches and takes a shuddery breath. “Bastard,” he breathes. “You fucking—”

The knife presses deeper, and Cruz shuts his mouth. Otherwise, it’s like he never spoke in the first place. Ambrose’s eyes remain glued to Roux. “Well?” he prompts.

“Please,” Roux whispers. “I’ll do whatever you want, I’ll—I’ll be so good. Just please, let him go.”

Ambrose hums thoughtfully, tilting his head. “I’m not sure if I believe you,” he says, dragging a thin red line across Cruz’s throat.

Before they can even think about it, their knees hit the floor. “Please!” they cry, tears streaming down their cheeks. “Please don’t hurt him!”

Ambrose’s eyes light up, and the knife goes still. He’s not smiling—of course he’s still angry at them; they’ll face the consequences later—but he’s pleased with their performance, and right now, that’s all that matters. He leans in to murmur in Cruz’s ear, “Why don’t you get back to the party, then. Before I change my mind.”

Ambrose releases him, and Cruz stumbles away, brushing a hand against his throat. But he’s not as worried about himself as he should be. “Roux?” he asks.

There’s a world of confusion and horror and pity in his voice, and they can’t stand it. They duck their head to hide their tear-stained face, burning with shame. “Go,” they whisper. “I’ll be fine.”

Cruz hesitates. “You heard them,” Ambrose says. He’s probably brandishing the knife, a silent threat. Roux doesn’t look up to check.

Cruz lets out a shaky exhale, and then they hear his footsteps retreating. A mix of relief and soul-crushing disappointment floods Roux’s chest. They didn’t escape. Cruz gets to walk away, but … they don’t.

They flinch as Ambrose approaches, but he only holds out his hand. “Come on. We’re leaving.”

They take his hand. Once they’re on their feet, they keep their head bowed, scared to even look at him. He wraps an arm tightly around their shoulders and leads them down the hallway, away from the ballroom. This must be the way he came when he cut Cruz off. Roux should have thought about alternate routes; they should have realized that Ambrose noticed them acting strange. They know better than to make mistakes like that. But maybe they’re rusty after spending all this time with Ambrose.

Ambrose squeezes their shoulder. “I need to keep you on a tighter leash.”

They nod as if they agree, feeling empty, and they let Ambrose lead them away.

#whump writing #whump #captivity whump #captivity #zipwrites #held at knifepoint #threats tw #roux & ambrose #oc: roux #oc: ambrose lacrosse #oc: cruz #okay unofficially: that concludes the backlog of stuff i haven't posted for these two #idk if there'll be more but we'll see!

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