#what can I say I'm feeling whumpy

[miss-ingno]

What about 6, 9, and 10? For the wip meme

6. Daycare

This one's a Grimm OT3 kidfic! I have a couple things plotted for a kidfic series in which Nick/Renard/Juliette have a kid together called Sophie (and the series shall be named S Is For Sophisticated lol).

Daycare in particular is about lil Sophie being at a special Wesen kindergarten, and the teacher noticing her Woge and then Nick shows up to pick up his kid (usually it's Juliette, sometimes Monroe and Rosalee, Sean and Nick both are too busy with too unpredictable schedules to do it regularly), and this Wesen kindergarden teacher notices a Grimm going straight for the lil Hexenbiest girl and going Oh No I Gotta Save Her!

because misunderstandings are fun :3

9. Early Meeting AU

Weilan AU where they meet at a college party and have a one-night stand with Shen Wei assuming Kunlun remembers him, and ZYL just being gone on this pretty boy. The morning after is appropriately awkward as Shen Wei realizes... Kunlun doesn't remember... oh no 😬😭

10. Amnesia Weilan

Something case-related happens and Zhao Yunlan is hurt! When he wakes up, he doesn't remember anything that happens in canon. He does wake up to a pretty man in his apartment making him breakfast though, so clearly despite having drunken too much, he scored. Shame he doesn't quite remember the night... but then he sees Shen Wei use dark energy and freaks out (because he's stuck back in that state of fear of the unknown, trauma, and bigotry RIP).

So while Shen Wei focusses on finding a cure, Zhao Yunlan has to relearn how to shed himself of his prejudices with the help of a very exasperated Da Qing and his team, who insist he's head over heels for this random Dixingren. What even is his life?

[tossawary]

Hanahaki is a delicious trope in fanfiction, and yet sometimes I'm like, "You can't ALL rather literally die rather than confess your feelings." (Yes, the mechanics of Hanahaki work differently on a story by story basis, but the original is just about confessing your love rather than keeping it inside, not about needing to be loved back.)

Like, it would be embarrassing as hell to confess your love if you genuinely didn't think you had a chance, but seriously (as much as I love going along with a well-written, angsty, whumpy story), some of these characters are practical enough that I think they'd just suck it up and say it. They're adults! They have shit to do! And some characters are assholish enough that I think they would just decide to confess and make their feelings someone else's problem, which is a funny scenario to think about, perhaps underused in fanfiction.

Character A: "Sorry, you were DYING because of a magical flower curse?! And now you're better because you confessed your love to me?! What the fuck am I supposed to do about any of this?!"

Character B, trying to remain chill while their face feels like it's on fire: "Sorry, I don't know. You figure it out, I guess."

Same thing with truth serums and other curses that manifest your feelings and whatever. It's fun to have the "Ohhh, nooo, I can never tell them" and the "Surprise! Your love was requited all along", I love those, but I'd also love to see more awkward subversions of tropes. More "Well, fuck, might as well say something" and more "Shit, now what?" of romantic interests getting bodied out of left field by the main character's feelings.

[whumpetywhumpwhump]

Okay, what you think of seizure/convulsions whump? And when did you realize you were a hospital/sickfic fan?

*love your blog, let's be friends!!

Coupla great questions!!!

1. I do love seizure whump a LOT. I try to make sure things are accurate because ofc these things (like a lot of sickfic and whumpy stuff) do affect real people, but yes I absolutely love reading and writing about it. Since I don't usually read whumper content, a lot of the seizure stuff comes in the form of epilepsy HCs and also pretty serious illnesses like meningitis.

There's something about seizures in whump which just takes things to the next level- if a character is epileptic, the looming threat of a seizure is just always there, and when it happens there's the panic of how long it's going to last/whether it's going to be a big one etc etc. If a character is sick and starts seizing, it's a sign that things really aren't right, and perhaps tips the scales for caretakers from 'illness like the flu' to 'this character is dangerously ill and needs to go to a hospital NOW'.

I have so many things I could talk about here lol, and maybe if people want to see it I could make a whole post about seizure whump on its own, but yeah, I like it a whole bunch!

2. I can't quite pinpoint the exact time I realised I was really into hospital whump, and that's probably because I've been into it for a LONGGG time. Like, even as a kid if there was a character I was really into, I'd start picturing them in these precarious situations. It's only when I got older, obviously, that I discovered there was a community of people who were just like me, and I have to say it was super relieving (I genuinely thought I was a complete weirdo with original, weird thoughts).

I mean, to put things into perspective I wanted to be a doctor when I was five, and a lot of that was because I already loved whump.

An interesting little thing as well is how I think this side of me co-exists with my emetophobia: I've always been super afraid of vomit IRL, and as somebody who's also super into psychology, I find it so interesting how the things we fear and the things we're attracted to can be so linked. After all, 'arousal' is the word used to describe the body's reaction to a stimulus, fearful or exciting or.... otherwise. A lot of people love scary movies because the domesticated fear is like a safe way of experiencing terror that otherwise only happens in real life dangerous situations. In a similar way, I suppose I love sickfics because I'm so afraid of them IRL, and it's a safe way to explore the intense feelings I have about it.

Anyway, this post derailed into me talking about WHY I'm into sickfic (I think) but I find it fascinating!!!

Thanks so much for the ask, and we can definitely be friends! Always love meeting fellow whump lovers ��️

[ginger-and-mint]

11 & 12, 16 & 17 for the belly ask game please!

11. Do you have any favorite words or phrases relating to the belly?

The word "stomach" itself kinda wrecks me tbh. ^^ "Swollen" is probably my favorite adjective, and "bulging" and "aching" and probably my favorite verbs hehe. And even though they're pretty basic, the phrases "so full" and "very full" can be really really good.

12. Do you like upset tummies? What kinds of scenarios are your favorites?

I would say upset tummies are an Interest-Adjacent Enjoyable Thing, but not actually kinky in and of themselves to me! Like, if a character has an upset tummy from eating too much, that adds the appeal of a kinky scenario for me. But if a character has an upset tummy for other reasons, the vibe is more hurt/comfort or whumpy. Which I still enjoy! but not in a kinky way, y'feel?

16. Are there any guilty pleasures that you don't tend to share as much?

My guiltiest pleasure is emeto as a result of eating too much. ^^' I tend not to explore it as much 'cause I'm still a bit shy about it, but uh. somebody struggling to keep a very large meal down or just feeling sick from how they've eaten is Big Fire.

17. What's something you wish you saw more of?

Is it cheating if I answer Stuffing Content In General? ^^' I feel like the scene is a lot slower than it used to be.

To answer seriously though -- I wish I could find stories with intentional feeding that isn't tied to a dom/sub dynamic. Dom/sub just isn't my thing, but it's pretty much impossible to find any feeding fics that don't frame the act through that lens or use associated tropes and dialogue. My ideal dynamic is more like a collaboration -- the Eating Character wants to eat, the Feeding Character wants to help them. That's basically why I have the Soothing Room in ginger & mint, I'm realizing!

[destiny-in-the-universe]

Whump Whumping Whump

Updates on Whumptober, meows!

Alllriiight, my dear readers, I'm very much on a roll when it comes to Whumptober. For anyone stumbling across my page for the first time, Whumptober is an event hosted during October where you write "whump", or rather the psychological, physical, and other forms of torment against a "whumpee" (person receiving the angst).

I had the thought of doing a combination of prompts into a single one-shot, just to get a feel of something a little different! I wanted to talk a little about the chosen fandom and some information about the au itself because why not? For fandom, I decided to go with the current fixation, in other words a K-Drama known as Vincenzo.

This one's going to be particularly whumpy, especially due to the nature of the content with my idea but before that - this idea follows a canon divergent setting! It does fit under au, though honestly I named the fic after a song! Due to my rewatch of the series, I realized how dear these characters are to me so I created my own canon because, well, one of my favorites did die and I am upset lol.

Read below for information about the au and the fic itself!

Changes to the Canon

Jang Hanseo deserved so much better. After suffering from Hanseok's abuse, I felt his demise was too brutal for my tastes and decided he would get the chance to live here!

Vincenzo still did leave Korea after the end of the series, but then came back - deciding he couldn't abandon his new family. Geumga Plaza is an unofficial family and are highly protective of each other

Vincenzo and Hong Chayoung got together post-canon; though it took a while, considering just how stubborn both of them are. They're only dating, and neither has brought up marriage

The au itself does take place in Italy though! I had thought of Vincenzo taking Chayoung and Hanseo to visit where he had grown up, and so I decided to have them take a vacation

Hanseo took over the business, now running it legally. Though he also decided to volunteer at an animal shelter during the weekend

Vincenzo is a legal consultant, apart from still being part of the Jipuragi Law Firm

Hanseo suffers from PTSD and an unspecified anxiety disorder. While he has recovered immensely from the abusive dynamic with Hanseok, he does have vicious nightmares

He considers Vincenzo to be his true brother and rarely talks about Hanseok

Chayoung is highly protective of Hanseo, making sure no one comes after him. Though, this has hardly been an issue

Hanseo also has Autism Spectrum Disorder. I'm not going to lie; a lot of his depictions of having ASD in fanfiction doesn't always make me comfortable. I'm using my own experience with autism for how his represents

Vincenzo also has PTSD, but he doesn't talk about it. Ever

Fanfiction Details

As mentioned before, Vincenzo - alongside Chayoung and Hanseo - take a vacation to Italy, but of course things end up going a little south

For reasons I won't be disclosing yet, a hit is placed on Vincenzo. He discovers what's happening, and finds himself slowly distancing from Hanseo and Chayoung in order to keep them safe

Chayoung immediately notices something's up, attempting to confront Vincenzo but he gets defensive and it leads to a situation. That's all I can really say

Hanseo is not confrontational, but he does worry over his hyung and decides to help Chayoung figure out what's bothering Vincenzo

A fight does break out, but I will not be saying anything beyond that yet! That's spoilers, I'm afraid

More will come in a little while if anyone wants a WIP and would like to see me keep yapping about this idea. I haven't written for Vincenzo in ages, and last time, it had gotten a little... spicy to say the least but I adore Vincenzo's relationship with Chayoung and, well, Hanseo should've had a chance to heal from Hanseok's torment. In the meantime, I bid you adieu!

[seth-whumps]

okay i have a proposition.

i have this idea that i can't get out of my head but i have a feeling it might not be in character/plausible so feel free to change it or message me if it is But

is there any scenario where a glitch to morri's personality systems would like. make them act completely out of character but not necessarily in a distressed way?? like they either become super happy and affectionate or like sad and weepy or even just act vaguely drunk/silly? i know its kind of a weird ask and its not really whumpy but i just think it would be so silly to see that side of them and jj's reaction to it ( ๑˘ω˘ )

feel free to make it whumpy if you can too! i'd be very interested to see that, but either way i have another whumpy ask ill send in a bit!

bug. bug your MIND. okay this one is short but incredibly sweet. and it is not beta'd because I was so excited to write it and I love it a lot so thank you for the ask bug I dedicate this one to you!!!

--

"What on earth are you doing."

"Hugging you." That's all Morrigan says in response. Their arms are wrapped around JJ's shoulders from behind the couch, snug and warm, and their hair is infuriatingly tickling his left ear where their chin rests. "Do you want me to stop?"

JJ lets out a short breath. He is very, very confused. "...Uh, no, you don't have to stop, just. Since when did you get cuddly?"

"Am I being cuddly?" Their head tilts, nudging his ear. "I'm just hugging you."

"Yeah, I noticed that. Is there any particular reason?"

Morrigan stops to think. It's strange, hearing the soft hum of their breath behind him, as close as they are. Morri isn't touchy, and he doesn't mind respecting their space, so whatever the fuck this is, it's nothing short of seriously freaky.

"You seem... stressed." Morrigan releases him, and maneuvers to sit next to him. The couch dips, and they fold their hands. "I want to help."

"Stressed? I mean, maybe. I just got the new assignment, so I'm a little tense, but..."

Morrigan leans their head on his shoulder.

He stops in his tracks. "Morri?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you... okay?"

"I'm fine. Are you? Your shoulder is very tense."

JJ barely scoffs. "Yeah. You're laying on it. Forgive me if that's a bit surprising."

"It's supposed to make you relax," they say, frowning and sitting up. "Could I hold your hand instead?"

"Uh--?"

"Or maybe..."

Morrigan then lays fully down and rests their head in his lap, all while JJ holds both hands up in complete and utter bewilderment. What on earth is happening?

"Woah, Morri. Hey. Snap out of it. Who are you, and what have you done to my robot?"

"Not your robot," Morrigan corrects neutrally, "and I'm trying to help you. Physical contact is supposed to help stress levels. Your heart rate is increasing, though, am I doing it wrong?"

"Okay, Baymax." JJ gently pushes them upright, and holds them by the shoulders. "Do me a favor and run a system diagnostic."

"Copy."

Their eyes blink rapidly. The left one shutters into a solid yellow, the color oddly cold for its shade. Morrigan goes motionless for several seconds.

Eventually, they jolt. "Oh."

"Oh?"

One eye blinks as they readjust. "Small bug. I... am overreacting."

JJ tilts his head, confused. See, normally, an 'overreaction' ends in several hours of dissociation or trying to coax down his friend from committing murder. This doesn't seem like an overreaction. It's strange, but nothing close to what he's used to. "To what?"

"You."

"Excuse me?"

Morrigan takes a breath, flinching back. "Sorry. I'm sorting it. You're registering as a target."

JJ tries to relax. "That is a lot more threatening than the hug you gave me."

"No, I was trying to--" They frown, frustrated. "You're stressed. I'm reading it as a threat. I tried to calm you down. Make you less of a threat. Best option was to hug you."

"Oh." He nods, and breathes out, doing everything he can to make himself look harmless. "Makes sense. Are you still reading me as a threat?"

Their eyes glaze over, the way they do when they're looking at something only they can see. "Yes."

"Want to fix that?"

Morrigan's eyes focus immediately. "What?"

JJ opens his arms in an invite. He wiggles his eyebrows. "Sort out the bug with some cuddles, Morri, c'mon! I give great hugs."

"You are..." Their gaze is captured by something, for just a moment. They sigh, heavily, and lean in for the hug. "...an absolute moron," they mutter into his shirt.

"Hey. Is it helping?"

Morrigan settles against their chest, curled up adorably. Their eyelids flutter shut, no doubt working through whatever line of code snapped in their systems. It'll take a while to fix it all. "I suppose."

"Then I'm a genius."

"Shush."

"Sort it out, cuddle bug."

"Never call me that again."

(JJ wouldn't mention it to anyone. But Morrigan enters stasis there, in his arms. And even if the couch is less than comfortable, and he has a mission early in the morning on the other side of town, he doesn't move an inch.)

(Because Morrigan, despite everything, is very very warm. And JJ wouldn't let go for the world.)

--

this is tooth-rotting fluff and I Don't Care it was SO FUN TO WRITE so I hope this fulfills your ask!!! thank you bug!!!!

[whumpsday]

Whumpdreaming: A Whump Playlist

hope you all enjoy this little playlist i made! i tried not to reuse songs from my Kane & Jim character playlists, since i already used a lot of whumpy songs on that (especially the kane playlist lol). you can give those a listen too if you wanna!

Listen Here ▶️

Bonus song here ▶️ (it's not on spotify)

CW: various songs on this playlist contain references to torture, death, and sexual assault. nothing graphic, but it is there.

Whumpmas in July Day 11: What songs/playlists are perfect for whumpy daydreaming?

tracklist and selected lyrics under the read-more

01. The Dismemberment Song - Blue Kid

So don't you squirm, don't you fret I'm not gonna hurt you... yet I just feel the need to be getting A little of you, a lot of blood-letting I know the sensation you're probably dreading But cutting you up will be so refreshing for me

02. God Help Me - Emilie Autumn

God help me Believe me, this wasn't what I wanted But no, I can't leave, he's got me Won't you shine in my direction and help me? Won't you lend me your protection and help me?

03. The Horror of Our Love - Ludo

I'm a killer Cold and wrathful, silent sleeper I've been inside your bedroom I've murdered half the town Left you love notes on their headstones I'll fill the graveyards, until I have you

04. Mother Mother - The Veronicas

I'm hungry, I'm dirty I'm losing my mind Everything's fine I'm freezing, I'm starving I'm bleeding to death Everything's fine

05. Shoot Him Down - Alice Francis

I want to choke him Want to maltreat him I want to squeeze him And break his neck, neck, neck, neck

06. Choke - I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THE FOUND ME

Stop, drop And drag me into place And lock the fire escapes I'll break your pretty face

07. Animal Skin - Bryan Dunn

I know where you're vulnerable Wild things can't get comfortable Quiver and shake, quiver and shake Oh no, oh no, oh no! You were being kicked about Backed up, teeth and claws are out Covered in blood, covered in blood Let it flow, let it flow, let it flow

08. I Can't Decide - Scissor Sisters

I can't decide Whether you should live or die Oh, you'll probably go to heaven Please don't hang your head and cry

09. Shalott - Emilie Autumn

She says, "How long can I live this way Is there someone I can pay to let me go 'Cause I'm half sick of shadows I want to see the sky Everyone else can watch as the sun goes down So why can't I?"

10. Tomcat Disposables - Will Wood

Little heart racing and praying, "Something, keep me safe" I think it saw my face Okay, one hungry day Is nothing come what may But then winter came inside for three nights Left me grinding my teeth between my walls And gripping my dreams tight

11. Gay Pirates - Cosmo Jarvis

And they put glass on my sandals So my feet would bleed all day And they forced me to wear them Or they said they'd make you pay

12. Little Pistol - Mother Mother

Under the skin, against the skull They put a little chip so that they know it all I think I might be scared Of the world and the way it makes you feel afraid

13. Inside You - Newton Schottelkotte, Karim Kronfli, The Blasting Company

I’ll have you begging for my mercy Loud enough for all to hear And at last I’ll finally take you by surprise As I hold you close and in the throes of passion’s piercing cries I’ll see the light inside you As it leaves your eyes

@whumpmasinjuly

[whumping-valentine]

🦌 Fawn and Hunter - Part 4 🦌

"Broken Glass"

Content: guns, threats, dehumanization, kinda pet whump, restraints, failed escape, glass and blood, stitches, creepy and intimate whumper, noncon kissing, removing clothes.

1800 words

I'M BACK !!!!

So sorry about my absence over the last few months! I originally had a shit ton written on my absence, but you aren't here to hear me yap about my life. Though I will say I'm still in a bit of writer's block, so please excuse me if I continue to remain gone for a while, or updates are slow. I'm also not too happy with the writing this part, but it is what it is. I've been so angry at my writing recently you have no idea, hence my writer's block.

But anyways! I'm back and it's time for part 4! This is where things get more whumpy and our poor little Fawn gets pushed around and hurt. You hate love to see it. To find the other parts, you can search the fawn and hunter tag on my profile. Anyways let's goooo

       Hunter awoke to the morning sun shining in through the cracks of their boarded up windows. They finally managed to fall asleep at some odd hour of the night. They'd nearly forgotten about the treasure they acquired the day before, and when they remembered, they gleefully got out of bed, grabbing a shotgun as they trudged down into the basement.

       Hunter pulled the light string, and the room illuminated with a click. The first thing they noticed was the puddle on the floor.

       Oh, so the poor thing did piss on the floor...

       Hunter looked to their captive, who was curled up on the mattress, clutching a knife to their chest like it was a comfort item. How cute, Hunter thought, they brought a knife to a gun fight.

       Hunter crouched down beside the sleeping figure, admiring them. They pushed their disheveled hair out of their eyes, noticing the cracks in their big, round glasses and the stress that's already formed on their face.

       Hunter nudged their side with their shotgun, waking them up. As Fawn blinked their eyes awake, they widened at the gun in their face. They gasped as adrenaline shot through them, clutching the knife tighter as they scooted back against the wall.

       "Where'd you find that at?" Hunter asked, looking between them and the knife, a smirk on their face.

       Fawn stared up at them, still with wide, fearful eyes. Their hands started to shake and sweat as their heart beat faster and faster. They felt their eyes water as they pointed the knife up at their captor, "S-stay away from me."

       Hunter simply chuckled, smiling, "You think that little thing is gonna protect you? Baby, I've got a gun."

       "I'm- I'm not your baby!" They tried to sound stern, but fell beyond flat. The shaking of their tear stained voice was like music to Hunter's ears.

       "Hm? Why not? You sure act like one." They said, and got closer to them, putting the gun under their chin, "Drop the knife, little fawn."

       Fawn's breathing grew heavy as they froze in fear.

       "Drop it." Hunter commanded as if Fawn were a dog.

        Fawn dropped the knife, almost feeling against their will as their muscles acted without their brain.

       "There we go, such a good little thing," Hunter cooed. "Oh, don't you look at me like that, I think that thing fits you perfectly."

       Fawn opened their mouth to protest.

       "Shut it."

       Fawn closed their quivering lips. Hunter crouched down to their level, sitting down on the mattress, observing them.

       Hunter tilted their head, "How's your leg?"

       "Wo-wouldn't y-you care." Fawn said bitterly.

       "Which one of us is holding a gun?"

        Fawn squeezed their eyes shut, and spoke through gritted teeth, "It's fine."

       "Fine enough to hobble up the stairs last night?"

        "I needed the bathroom."

        "Need is a strong word. Clearly you didn't. It was optional."

       "I had to go on the floor, what do you mean optional?"

       "Well the floor's an option, is it not?"

       "Yeah, if you're an animal!"

       "Are you not one?"

       Fawn's face flushed with embarrassment and anger, "Oh, just shoot me! It's not worth it!" They slumped back and crossed their arms.

       Hunter chucked, "Dramatic much?"

       Fawn stayed silent against the wall, their arms firmly crossed as they refused to look at them. They were not going to be their entertainment. The defiance didn't last very long, though.

       "Ugh! What's that fucking smirk for?" Fawn spat, embarrassment and anxiety turning to anger.

       "Ooh, big words for such a cute little thing." Hunter said, and before Fawn could respond, they grabbed onto a strap of their overalls and pulled them to their foot with ease.

       Hunter grabbed their chin and inspected their face, "You seem a bit dirty, no?"

       "I'm perfectly fine, thank you." Fawn shoved them off, "It's not like cleanliness matters very much around here."

       "Not for me, no, but you? I don't want you looking disheveled."

      "Whatever." Fawn sighed, then yelped when Hunter picked them up over their shoulder. They carried them to the bathroom and plopped them down on a counter.

       They stripped them of their overalls, leaving them in underwear and their sweater.

       "The sweater needs to come off too, pet."

       "I- but- it's cold! It's the middle of Autumn!"

       "Excuses, excuses." Hunter dismissed, grabbing onto their sweater, yanking it off them in on quick motion, causing them to yelp.

       Hunter started to wipe Fawn off with a cloth, and their heart felt like it was going to beat out of their chest. Embarrassed, angry, and scared weren't exactly a nice mix of emotions. They couldn't believe they were being cleaned like some kind of pet. They were just thankful they still had their underwear.

       After many minutes of tense scrubbing and washing, Hunter took a moment to step out of the room, leaving Fawn alone. They turned towards the window and a sudden surge of adrenaline came over them. They looked between the window and the door and made a quick, impulsive decision.

       They stood up and smashed the window with their elbow. A loud crash and crack boomed, along with the sound of Fawn yelling in pain. Instead of the whole window shattering, only a small hole was formed, and their arm was now stuck in the window.

       Hunter rushed back into the room, and looked much more concerned and annoyed then they did angry, "What the hell, Fawn? First you step into a bear trap and now you can't even break a window right. It's amazing you made it to adulthood."

       "I- I thought the window would break…"

       "What, did you think you could get away just by being outside? You said it yourself, it's the middle of Autumn, it's cold, you're barely wearing any clothes, AND you have a hurt ankle. Making smart decisions isn't exactly your area of expertise, is it?"

       Fawn wanted to yell, and scream, and cry. They were angry, and scared, and embarrassed, and wanted to curse profanities at their condescension. But they couldn't even move let alone make a sound. The physical pain they felt overpowered any emotion.

       Hunter sighed and walked over to them, breaking the window some more around their arm until it was free. They walked Fawn to the dining table and sat them down.

       Hunter meticulously picked out the multiple shards of glass in Fawn's arms. They were shaking, and wincing with each movement Hunter made. Blood was dripping down their arms and onto the floor.

       There were so many cuts, and so much blood you could barely even see skin anymore. Hunter carefully wiped their arm with cloths, though it didn't completely stop the blood. They had to poke around in their cuts for any tiny shards, digging inside the gashes to pull them out with tweezers.

       When Hunter was sure they got them all, they wrapped bandages around their arms. Though here was one spot in particular they were more concerned about. Near their right wrist, a large gash went down nearly to their elbow.

       "That one's gonna need stitches." They said.

       Fawn furrowed their brow, "And- and how are you going to- to do that?"

       "By giving you stitches, idiot." Hunter held up a needle.

       "You- you're- there's no way you're going to do that!"

       "What else do you want me to do? See, these are the consequences of your actions, Fawn. You step in my trap, you get stuck with me. Try to escape, I give you stitches. That's only fair."

       "Fair?!"

       "Yes, fair! Maybe be more careful."

       Fawn was shocked by their audacity, but then again, who would expect very much from someone who kidnaps and murders people?

       Hunter took their wrist and put it over their lap. The large gash in their arm was no longer bleeding, but it would start up again soon. Hunter put the needle to Fawn's skin, and they hitched a breath and closed their eyes, wincing as they braced for the pain.

       The cold metal pierced their skin and their whole body tensed as Hunter slowly sewed the scar closed. Their arm involuntarily shook and they couldn't hold it still, just making it more painful. Fawn hitched a sob as it escaped them.

       "You're so cute when you cry."

       "Shut- shut the fuck up."

       Hunter slapped them.

       Hard.

       They grabbed them by the chin, "You shut up, and you hold still." They said, firm and low, now grabbing onto their hand tightly. Each stitch felt like agony. The sharp piercing of the needle, the thread pulling through their skin, it was awful. And after a few more minutes, it was finished.

       "There, it's done." Hunter said. "Was that so bad?"

       "Fucking yes!" Fawn yelled as tears streamed down their freckled cheeks. Their arm was shaking like crazy, not to mention the unbearable throbbing and sting that ran all the way down their arm.

       Hunter gently reached out and took their bandaged, trembling arm in their hand, and kissed their wrist.

        Fawn twisted their arm from their grasp, "Don't you dare!"

       "Whaaat? Never heard of kisses making it feel better?"

       "Yeah, from mothers! Not you! You're not my mom!"

       "I could be like one."

       "You're fucking weird!"

       "Obviously. But I'm not done with you. Let me kiss it."

       Fawn scoffed, "Yeah right. Like that's happening."

       "Oh, it's happening whether you want it to or not! You stepped into my trap, now you get to play by my rules. Or- do I have to get more strict with you?" They reached for a gun, quickly knocking the sassy defiance out of them.

       "I- no- sir- ma'am- I-"

       "Give me your wrist."

       With tears still welled in their eyes, Fawn slowly placed a shaking hand into Hunter's palm.

       "There we go," Hunter cooed, pleased. They placed a kiss on their wrist, and slowly moved up their arm. Fawn squeezed their eyes shut and tensed as they feared the worst, but they stopped halfway up their arm, where the cut ended. Hunter lifted their head, and chuckled upon seeing their face, "What? Afraid I'm gonna kiss you?"

       Fawn just scowled.

       "Well, with you all nice and patched up I think it's time to eat, yeah?"

       Food was the last thing in Fawn's mind right now, especially if the food came from a deer. It didn't matter much though. Not like they were getting out of this.

       After dinner Hunter dragged them into a spare bedroom and threw them onto a bed.

       "I can't have you trying to escape again," Hunter said, picking up rope. "One attempt is plenty enough for me."

       "W-wh-" Fawn stammers, unable to get out a single word.

       "Lay down." Hunter commanded. They tied a rope around their ankles, then to the bed frame, doing the same with their wrists.

       "Don't try to squirm too much. You'll hurt your wrist, and your ankle. Just let it happen. There we go."

       Fawn could only lay still, their arms above their head, whole body immovable. If they tried to move their arms their wrist hurt. If they tried to move their legs, their ankle. Fawn winced in disgust as Hunter kissed their nose before leaving.

       Fawn could see the cracked bathroom window from where they lay. They watched as Hunter boarded up the window, just like every other one around the cabin. A sinking feeling arose in them when they realized…

       This wasn't the first time this has happened.

End note: I think it's so much fun when whumpers are casual. Like, don't get me wrong, I love a threatening whumper and terrified whumpee as much as the next person, but a more casual dynamic is so much fun to me. I like when they just bicker and whumpee doesn't have to walk on eggshells because whumper is more liberal with their rules. Like, they're more annoyed and incovinienced than scared, lol. Anyways, let me know what y'all think!

Also I'm starting a taglist as you can see, due to a request. Lemme know if you want added.

Taglist: @parasitebunny

[tired-of-being-nice]

waiting for the bus

hiii <3 i'm working on some longer and more actively whumpy stuff but in the meantime! here's ray and milo failing terribly at being anywhere remotely near normal. i like their weird dynamic a lot i hope you do too

"The bus isn't coming," Milo observes.

Ray, huddled against the cold wall of the bus stop, says "Please don't make small talk."

"I'm not," Milo says. "I'm stating an important fact. The bus is..." They check their phone. "10 minutes late."

"Well, I don't see what you want me to do about it," Ray says. 

"I'm not saying you have to do anything about it, I just— ugh. Never mind."

Ray turns their head to look sidelong at Milo. "You're shaking. How much sleep did you get last night?"

"If you insist on pointing out my weaknesses, I'm not sitting with you on the bus anymore," Milo says. After a pause, they add "Four hours."

"Hm," Ray says. "Well, better than three."

"True," Milo says.

Ray glances at them again. They're sitting upright, staring resolutely into the darkness as if they can summon the bus through sheer force of will.

He clears his throat. "If you want to, you can...lie down a bit. On me."

"What would I owe you?" Milo says, completely neutrally but a little too quickly to seem truly uninterested.

Ray hesitates for a long moment before saying "...In this instance, nothing. I think it would be...mutually beneficial."

Milo nods, just once, and then very slowly leans over to rest their head on Ray's shoulder. Ray, willing herself to be calm, breathes slowly and reviews the facts.

Fact: Human beings need a certain amount of physical contact with other humans for proper mental health upkeep. Fact: He has not had physical contact with another human being in three days. Assumption: Milo likely is in a similar position. Conclusion: This is a mutually beneficial arrangement that does not need to hold any sort of sentimental significance whatsoever.

Nevertheless, it also feels really nice.

Milo hums to themself. "I'm glad our interests align on this."

"Me too," Ray says.

"I hope the bus comes soon."

Ray sighs. "Me too."

Milo yawns. "If I fall asleep before the bus gets here, will you wake me up?"

"No," Ray says, and then "...Okay, yes, but you'll owe me."

"Got it," Milo says. "I'll—" They yawn again. "I'll try not to."

"Good luck," Ray says.

taglist! @whumpsoda @snakebites-and-ink

[contentloadingandstuff]

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!

[pixelatedraindrops]

can we get another sick yuma fanfic?

I usually don't take fic requests because I feel I'm not creative enough to write too often. But if its sick Yuma you want I may have a lil’ oneshot for ya c:

Here's a fic where he catches a terrible cold after losing his hat in the rain. This one's less whumpy and more fluffy. And Yuma will be speaking in a nasally tone pretty much the whole time.

Enjoy!

Under the Weather

(Oneshot)

Word Count: 4,000+

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic, Found Family

Fandom: Master Detective Archives RAINCODE

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was just more terrible, awful luck for Yuma. When has it ever been good? He was minding his business investigating the situation in Kanai Ward like he usually did to track their ultimate secret down, but suddenly when he was doing something that upset the wandering Peacekeepers, they had begun chasing him. Thankfully Yuma was able to evade them, however it came at a price. A sudden gust of wind had blown across the trainee as he ran in the neon city of rain…and his rainhat had flown off. Yuma wanted to try to go back to get it, but the peacekeepers were still after him. He had to keep running, he had no choice. If he was captured, it would be all over.

He eventually lost them by running into a corner of the city. He decided that he needed to go back to the agency, thinking maybe this was enough for today. Yakou always said that if things like this happen, it was best to lay low until things calmed down. So, Yuma waited a little bit for the peacekeepers to get further from him so he could rush back to the sub safely. But as he ran, the rain kept pouring. He had no hat to cover him anymore. By the time he got back to the nocturnal detective agency’s submarine base, his hair and face were soaking wet.

“Master, you look like a sopping wet cat! Kyahaha~!” his spirit partner Shinigami cackled as she viewed how wet her master was. “Practically…dripping…wet…” The death god’s dirty mind decided to jab at the short detective.

Rain water was dripping down every strand of his lilac hair. To say he was sopping would be an understatement, He was practically drenched with the rain from the city by the time he came back from the chase. He began realizing how much that hat was protecting him as he tried to shake his head in a poor attempt to try to dry off.

“Stop it. There was nothing I could do. The Peacekeepers would’ve caught me if I went back to get my hat…” Yuma responded, starting to sound a little bit slurred in his speech.

He sighed as he opened the cover of the sub.

“Hey Chief, I’m back…” he announced climbing down the steps to the entrance chamber.

“Hey Yuma, how’d things go out there?” Yakou’s voice could be heard from the office of the sub. “You find anything new out?”

Yuma slowly walks into the office room sniffing a bit and wiping his nose with his sleeve. “No…” he quietly responded.

Yakou was not paying attention to the boy, as he was reading the paper at his desk with a cigarette in his mouth like usual. “Well, don’t sweat it, can’t do everything all at once.”

Yuma shivered as he took his rain attire off. “I-I was cha- aehh..” He stopped as he felt something tickle his nose.

“You were what?” Yakou asked still not paying attention to him.

Yuma couldn’t finish his sentence as he felt a sneeze building up something fierce.

“Eeeahh… Ahhh…” his eyes were squinted as he tilted his head backwards.

“AAAH-CHSHUU!!!”

The loud wet sneeze finally came out of the small detective in training like a volcano erupting. His head shot downward as the sneeze came out, he tried to cover his mouth with his sleeve.

Let’s just say…he failed.

This finally got the chief’s attention. Yakou heard that sound and then moved his gaze to meet the shivery trainee detective at the corner of the right side of the room. His nose was bright red and now leaking profusely after that sudden onslaught.

He was dripping wet in a different way now.

“Whoa, gesundheit! Are you alright?!” Yakou exclaimed putting the paper down.

“Y-Yeah…” Yuma replied weakly as his nose continued dripping.

The NDA leader immediately stood up from his desk and grabbed a box of tissues that were in the desk drawer and walked over to the trainee.

He took one of the tissues out, handing it his way. “Here you go.”

Yuma still had his eyes shut from the intensity of that sneeze, his eyes stinging a tiny bit as tears formed, but he reached for the tissue grabbing it.

“Tank you…” he responded sheepishly. The congestion in his speech is now making its way to him.

“Sheesh. You’re a mess… Did you catch a cold out there in all that rain?” the chief asked as he leans down to be more at the trainee’s level.

Yuma sniffled hard. “Ugh…I guess so…”

Yakou sighed as he placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Well, that much can be said from the way you look and the way you sound…”

“AH-ACHSHUU!”

Yuma let out another wet sneeze interrupting him mid-sentence, making sure to do it into the tissue he held. Yakou flinched, turning his head away. “Yikes…that sounds bad.”

Yuma sniffled again finally opening his watery eyes to look Yakou’s way “I’b…reawy sowwy…” he muttered in his nasaled tone looking embarrassed and ashamed.

Yakou sighed, smiling at him a bit as he stood back up. “You poor kid. I’ll go get a towel to dry you off. Then I’ll get you something warm to drink, how’s that sound?”

Yuma held the the tissue to his nose wiping it a bit.

“Uh-huh…dat souds good…” he responded before he blew into the tissue.

Yakou felt sorry for the boy but couldn’t help but be a little amused by his nasaled speech. He walked over to the shower room to grab a towel he could use to dry his wet hair. He walked back over to see Yuma sitting on the purple sofa still holding the tissue to his face.

Yakou placed the towel on Yuma’s head and began drying it moving his hands in a circular motion. Yuma tried remaining as still as possible while the older man dried his wet hair off.

He put the towel around the boy’s neck after he finished drying him off best as he could.

“There we go.” He said with a grin. “Thats about as dry as I can make you. You can hop in the shower later.”

“Tank you…” Yuma responded before his nose tickled him again. “Ahh-choo!” he sneezed into the tissue he held.

“Gesundheit!” Yakou responded surprised as he placed the tissue box he was holding right next to the boy and walked over to grab the trash can by his desk and put it below the purple sofa where the stuffy detective was sitting.

“Here, the trash can is officially reserved just for you today.” he responded kindly.

Yuma sighed as he threw the tissue away. His nose leaking again not long after, but he didn’t notice as he felt a little dazed.

The older detective sighed. “Yuma, your nose is still running…” Yakou grabbed one of the tissues and placed it to his face wiping it away himself as Yuma scrunches his face up, then he threw it away. Yuma blushed in minor embarrassment.

“Hey, are you feeling alright?” Yakou asked looking at him with some concern. “Aside from…well this.”

Yuma sniffled in response before answering.

“S-Sowwy…my head’s just fuzzy…” he responded putting a hand to his head.

Yakou slid his hand under Yuma’s bangs and onto his forehead after the sniffly boy uttered those words.

“Mmm yeah, you’re feeling a teensy bit warm. Rain sure did a number on you, huh? What the heck happened to your hat?”

Yuma looked down. “I…was chased…by some peacekeepers…”

“What!?” Yakou exclaimed in shock looking nervous. “Th-They didn’t follow you did they!?”

“Don’ wowwy…I lost dem…” Yuma said sniffling again. “But…I lost my hat while I was running…and couldn’t go baaaa…aaah…” he felt another sneeze coming. He quickly grabbed another tissue sneezing into it. “…back to go get it...” he finished throwing it away afterwards sighing.

Yakou sighed and calmed down hearing that they weren’t in any trouble looking at the boy with pity in his expression.

“Okay I gotcha. Sorry about that kiddo.” he said putting a hand to his shoulder to try to comfort him. “Looks like you got a pretty nasty cold though. So no more going out today, got it?”

Yuma nodded without hesitation or further argument. Without his hat, going out in the rain again would only prove more harmful. And he was starting to feel a little bit dizzy, so he didn’t really want to get up again anyway.

“I’ll write to the WDO to send you a replacement hat later, but for now I’m gonna go make you some tea. Drinking something warm should help you feel a little better. You want ginger or chamomile?”

Yuma wanted to respond but then his voice got a little hoarse in his attempted response causing him to cover his mouth in embarrassment.

Yakou raised an eyebrow as he closed his eyes smiling. “I’ll do chamomile then, sounds like your throat’s getting a little scratchy.”

Yuma nodded quietly as he laid back. His head was starting to hurt a little as well as his throat. He cleared it as he grabbed another tissue in his hand feeling his nose start leaking again. It just wouldn’t stop.  

“Sheesh! You humans sure are pathetic! Can’t believe you got this roughed up from JUST the rain, gosh you’re so lame master!!” Shinigami said floating by her master’s side laughing to herself a bit. “And you look awful!! May as well be dead Kyahahaha~!”

Yuma rolled his eyes as he blew his nose into the tissue again throwing it away.

“Just leave me alone…I’m not in the mood for your antics right now.” Yuma responded in perfect speech to the cackling spirit in his head.

“Ooh, you’re so snappy!! Are your face holes being full’a gunk making you a bit cranky!?” she retaliated teasing him again.

As Shinigami kept yapping away, Yuma just turned away from her as he curled up trying to ignore her and how bad his sinuses felt right now. He could hardly breathe through his nose, so he had to do so through his mouth. His head was starting to hurt again, and he felt another tickle in his throat.

He definitely caught a cold. It was going to be a long day.

After a short while Yakou returned with the tea as he saw Yuma curled up facing away from him. Yakou sat down. “Hey, Yuma? You awake?”

Yuma slowly got himself up before he let out another harsh sneeze.

“Aahaa…” Yuma whined trembling a little from the shock as he didn’t have a tissue on him, so his nose was leaking again, and his teary eyes were clenched shut.

Yakou put the tea down grabbing another tissue placing it to Yuma’s face. “Alright, let it out Yuma.” He responded. Yuma did so as he blew into the tissue harshly.

“I think we may need to get some nasal spray for you kid.” Yakou said throwing the tissue away. “Didn’t think you had this much mucus in your tiny body.”

Yuma sniffled while groaning miserably.

“Ughh…Adythig…to make dis stop…” he muttered quietly in an annoyed tone.

“Alright kid, sit up. Let’s get a warm beverage in you for now.” Yakou said as he grabbed the warm tea again.

Yuma sat up as Yakou handed him the tea. Yuma tried smelling it, but there wasn’t much luck in that. He was still way too stuffy to smell anything.

“Made it extra warm. Hopefully it’ll settle that tickle in your throat down.” Yakou said.

Yuma sighed as he drank a bit of the tea. It was sweet and warm, and felt nice going down. It uplifted him a little bit.

“Tanks Chief…” Yuma said weakly smiling.

“No problem.” Yakou replied smiling petting his head. “I’ll go get you a blanket. You’re officially taking today off to rest. I’ll see if I can tell the other master detectives to get you some things to help. Like, maybe some nice warm soup, nose spray, cold medicine, and some more tissues and herbal tea bags.”

Yuma nodded. “Dat souds dice…tank you…” he took another sip of the tea then handed it back to Yakou.

Yakou smiled taking it then putting the tea on the table. Then he stood up to walk the other room to get a dark blue spare blanket that he had stored away. He brings it back and places it over Yuma’s head and shoulders wrapping him up into a cocoon.

Yuma smiled as he sunk his chin into the blanket taking on its softness.

“So warm…” he said sighing in content.

“Good. Now you lay down and rest. I’m gonna head out to tell everyone else what happened then later we’ll all come back with more things to help you feel better alright?”

Yuma nodded. “Tank you. Ad…I’b sowwy for da twouble…”

“It’s no trouble Yuma, you’re sick.” Yakou chucked. “And hey, it beats being caught by peacekeepers. At least here you’re safe and warm instead of being stranded in the rain or in some run-down cell at Amataerasu.”

Yuma nodded before he laid back down sniffling curling up sinking his face into the warm blanket. He groaned a little bit. “…by head huwts…” he complained.

“Hang in there kid, medicine is on the way. Just try to relax.”

Yuma fell asleep soon after Yakou responded to him.

Yakou nodded as he grabbed his raincoat and put it on. He turned one of the lights off in the office to see if dimming the lighting a bit would help the trainee sleep better. Then he left closing the door behind him.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After about 2 hours, Yakou along with the rest of the Master Detectives all came back with multiple shopping bags. Containing many different necessities for the cold-stricken trainee waiting back at the office. Everyone also wore facial masks. It was probably already too late for Yakou on being a carrier, as he spent quite a while with Yuma along with touching him, but him getting ill wouldn’t be a big deal. But he could not risk any of the other detectives getting sick, or they wouldn’t be able to do any work.

They all entered the room to find Yuma awake sitting up on the side of the purple checkered sofa wrapped in the blanket trying to get comfortable looking very out of it. Shinigami decided to be quiet as Yuma continued to ignore her, so she eventually gave in and just stayed quiet floating beside him.

Yuma’s hair was a mess, as was his face, his nose was running, and his eyes were as watery as before. The tea left on the table was empty and there were tissues everywhere. Even on the sofa and table, and the trash can was full of them as was the floor. Only one person littered the sub in trash today. One sick little trainee detective.

“Hey Yuma, we’re back!” Yakou said smiling brightly at him.

Yuma looked his way, not changing his expression nor speaking. Just lightly nodding.

“How are you feeling, my man? Heard the rain gave ya a pretty bad case of the sniffles!” Desuhiko chimed in also grinning behind his mask.

“We got some basic necessities for you.” Halara said muffled as well as they lifted the bag they were holding. “Hoping to help to cure whatever ails you.”

“Yuma, you look like a caterpillar in a little cocoon right now!” Fubuki stated observing the state of the trainee as he tried to get warm. “How very cute!”

“Honestly Princess, have some compassion! Can’t you see he’s suffering right now?!” Desuhiko exclaimed a bit annoyed.

“Looks comfy…wish I could…do that too…” Vivia lastly responds.

Yuma sighs as he lets out another sneeze before groaning and sniffling the nasal discharge up again. Then he wraps himself in the blanket once more hugging himself shivering a little bit.

This pitiful sight and clearly very miserable gesture from him made everyone else get a worried look in their eyes.

Yakou signals the other detectives to keep their distance as he removes his raincoat putting it to the hanger, and walks over to the wrapped up trainee sitting down next to him moving his face closer to observe him carefully.

Upon looking at him more closely, his skin looked a little paler and shinier and there was a slight pink flush in his cheeks, but not nearly as red as his nose.

Yakou placed his hand to the boy’s cheek gently. The older detective frowned a little.

He felt warmer. No wonder he wasn’t speaking.

“Hang tight kid, medicine’s here.” Yakou said as he rummaged through his bag to grab some liquid cold medicine as well as some aspirin for his headache.

“Mhm…” was all Yuma could utter.

Yakou then clapped his hands twice as he began instructing everyone else.

“Halara, go start making the soup, Desuhiko go grab some spare clothes from your disguise bag that he can change into later after he showers, Fubuki go get me a spoon from the kitchen and a glass of water, and Vivia go get me the thermometer in the shower room along with an ice pack.”

All the master detectives did as they were told. Halara grabbed the can that was in their bag and went into the kitchen to get to work as Fubuki followed them to finish her own task. Desuhiko unzipped his bag going into it to search for any spare clothing in Yuma’s size. And Vivia walks slowly to the shower room. Leaving the two to have a small moment alone.

When the coast is clear, Yuma weakly leans into Yakou’s shoulder still trying to get himself comfortable.

Yakou sighs as he places a hand over Yuma’s body scooting a little closer to him until the small blanket cocooned boy was in his arms. He smiles down at him sympathetically as a parent would for their sick child.

“Not feeling very good, are you kiddo?” he asked, looking down at him, placing a hand on his head stroking it softly.

“Mm-mm…” Yuma pitifully responded in a whiny tone shaking his head as he sinks his warm cheek into the older one’s chest.

“You’ll be fine, don’t worry. We’ll take care of you.” Yakou said petting his head more to soothe him.

Yuma nodded smiling before he felt another sneeze building up.

Like clockwork, Yakou quickly grabs the last tissue from the box he had and places it to his face catching the sneeze just in time.

“Gesundheit.” He says with a gentle smile.

“…Tank you…” Yuma whispered quietly with his eyes closed.

Yakou wipes the trainee’s nose then he tosses the last tissue on top of the ones already overfilling the trash can.

“Hey, look what I bought.” Yakou said rummaging through another one of the bags. He pulled out a small bottle of nasal spray handing it to him. “There ya go, instant relief for all that pesky nose stuff you have built up.” he gave him a reassuring grin.

Yuma smiled sighing in relief as he held the bottle and nodded in silence.

Soon Fubuki and Vivia had returned. They both hand Yakou the spoon and thermometer almost in synced unison.

“Here you go Chief! And here’s the water too!” Fubuki says a bit muffled by her face mask as she puts the water down on the table.

“Thank you Fubuki.” Yakou said smiling. Fubuki then turns her eyes to Yuma.

Yuma just turns and shyly hides his face away. He’s a little embarrassed to be seen like this in front of his coworkers.

Fubuki just smiles behind her mask at this reaction. Yuma was so cute!

Vivia places the ice pack down on the table next to the water.

“Thank you, Vivia, you’re excused to go back to your corner now.” Yakou said.

As if Vivia was waiting for those words he walks back to the fireplace and lays down and begins to read his book again.

Yakou uses his hands to shoo Fubuki away telling her to give the two of them some space. Telling her to go assist Halara in the kitchen. Fubuki nods and heads over to the kitchen where Halara was.

Desuhiko had found a suitable pair of pajamas for Yuma in his bag, but decides to stay in it to give Yuma and Yakou some space. He quietly watches them from a small open space from the open zipper.

“Coast is clear Yuma. Nobody’s here anymore. Except Vivia but he’s just in the fireplace like usual. He won’t bother us.” Yakou said telling Yuma he can stop hiding now.

Yuma turns his head to look around and then looks up at Yakou who was holding a device in his hands. Yuma raises an eyebrow in confusion.

“Just gonna take your temp real quick alright? Can you open your mouth for me?”

Yuma opens his mouth as Yakou places the thermometer inside. The feverish trainee instinctively moving it under his tongue and closing his mouth.

After a few seconds the device beeps and Yakou takes it out. It read about 37.7 c (100. f)

“Yep. Definitely a fever, but it’s nothing serious.” Yakou replied looking at the device then putting it down on the table. “Good thing we caught it early. We got some medicine for it, so it should break in a few hours after some rest.”

Yuma nodded as he leaned back into Yakou. He was feeling very tired.

“Whoa, before you go back to your nap, let’s get this medicine in you first so you can wake up later hopefully feeling better.” Yakou said noticing how sleepy he looked. “C’mon, sit up for me.”

Yuma slowly gets himself back up again facing Yakou. His complexion and appearance status were the same, runny eyes and cherry red nose, pale yet flushed cheeks, but his tired and dazed face made him look like a nervous yet curious little kid. Yakou couldn’t help himself when he spoke again.

“Attaboy. Alright let’s see what we got here...” Yakou said as he picked up the cold medicine. He reads the instructions over and takes the spoon Fubuki gave him uncapping the bottle and pours the orange liquid into it. “Open wide.”

Yuma opens his mouth as Yakou places the spoon of medicine into it.

It didn’t taste very good as Yuma’s face was a little scrunched up and his tongue slightly sticking out. But he still swallowed it down with no vocal complaints.

“Okay good, now let’s try this one, it should help your headache.” Yakou grabbed the aspirin tablet and placed one in his hand and gave it to Yuma. “Pop that in and we’ll swallow it with some of this water.”

Yuma placed the tablet in his mouth and Yakou gave him the water glass to drink and swallow it down with. The boy takes the glass and took a small drink from it swallowing the pill and sighing once he was finished.

“There we go. Medicine is all done. You’ll be just fine now.” Yakou said smiling at him.

Yuma smiled in return before he sneezed twice into his arm quickly turning away from Yakou as he did so. His nose was running once again. He instinctively reached for the tissue box on the table, but it was empty.

Yakou laughed. “Don’t worry, we got more tissues.” he said looking at the empty box on the table as he took out some new ones, he bought at the store placing the box in Yuma’s lap.

Yuma nodded as he grabbed a couple of tissues wiping his nose and blowing into it.

“Sowwy…” Yuma said quietly feeling a little guilty for using up the entire tissue box.

“You’re fine. You have a cold; it can’t be helped.” Yakou responded taking the tissues and throwing them away for him.

“You wanna use the spray?” Yakou asked.

Yuma nodded quietly.

Yakou took the nasal spray from Yuma’s lap and opened and uncapped it. Then he plugged it up the boy’s nose.

“Brace yourself.” Yakou said a bit playfully. As he quickly spritzed the formula into both the boy’s nostrils then quickly taking it out. He puts the cap back on it placing it onto the table.

Yuma flinched slightly as he received the spray, but then as it was removed he exhaled trying to breathe through his nose again. It was a little better, but not quite.

Yakou then lays the blanket wrapped trainee back down. “Alrighty. Now you can sleep. When you wake up later you should feel better and then you can have some nice warm soup, take a nice hot shower and change into fresh and warm clothes.”

Yakou grabbed the wrapped ice pack Vivia brought and placed it under the boy’s neck where the pillow was. “And that should cool you off while you rest.”

Yuma smiled as he laid his head to the pillow and cool ice turning his head curling up to get in a more comfortable position for his nap.

“…Tanks fo all dis chief…” he said quietly as he began nodding off.

“You’re welcome, Yuma.” Yakou said smiling, putting his hand to the trainee’s head petting it softly.

“Get well soon, okay?”

Yuma smiled as he drifted off into a deep sleep with the medicine now in his system. His chief and coworkers watching over him and caring for him throughout the rest of the day.

He was already starting to feel better.

[myalchod]

For the writer ask: 9, 18, 19, any or all, please and thank you! 💜

9. start to finish, how long did it take you to write the last fic you posted? Last fic I posted was make a mercy out of me. File created 11 June, though I think I started noodling about it as soon as prompts went up and might have started as much as a week earlier, and fic posted 19 June. Considering I had to change things quite a bit, I'm surprised it only took me two weeks, but sometimes the brainrot goes fast.

19. the most interesting topic you’ve researched for a fic In no particular order, things that pop into mind: medieval abortifacients and the Catholic church's historical attitude towards them, different ways of constructing ciphers, bat- and bird-wing rehabilitation, Pony Express travel timelines, reconstructive hand surgery, asphyxia timelines and what effects it'll have ... and a whole hell of a lot more about the Franco-Spanish war in general and the Fronde in particular than I ever anticipated. Yes, I am all too aware of how many of those things are whumpy. Not sorry!

18. if you keep them, share a deleted sentence or paragraph from a published fic I do, in part because you never know if they'll be useful for something else, which means I have a metric fucktonne of word things I've saved. And I know this says sentence or paragraph, but because I'm in a stabby sort of mood and I don't think I'll ever be able to use this for anything else ... this is from make a mercy out of me, from the part that I had to change because Canon, and this is your one and only warning for pain. 😘

“Saul.” He turns to her; she’s standing with her back to the window, moonlight silvering her golden hair and throwing her half into shadow where it slants across the room. They had stood like this months before, when this all began, on a night that seems impossibly different, feeling the first rumblings of the seismic shift that awaited them. But whatever tomorrow brings they will face it together, and he can take solace in that. “No.” It takes a moment to register the word, another to realise that she’s answered his thought. He has known her for most of his life; sometimes he thinks he knows her better than he does himself. And that means that the single syllable tells him what is about to come. “Farah —” he protests, but it dies in his throat as her mind wraps around his. The bond has always been a comfort before, her presence a reassurance, but not now. Not like this. Don’t do this, he thinks, because she has taken his words and he has no other way to fight her — and fight he must, because his fairy has always seen herself as expendable and he can’t do this without her, he can’t, he’s lost too much and one more thing will break him — Silence, within and without, answers him — silence, and a complicated tangle of emotions, guilt and fear and love and something that might be an apology all weighing like a stone in his chest before they are muffled, the connection between them obscured in a way it hasn’t been since he first properly noticed it. It feels strange but no less so than his mind: every thought is like pushing through exhaustion, an almost impossible effort. Easier to sleep, he thinks. Easier by far to close his eyes, to let himself drift, until he can recover, to sink down … (All he knows is the silver moonlight, then nothing more.)

[ ask me another? ]

[wormlips]

The way I got into Thramsay, I was frightened at the thought of reading ff about them, even though I shipped the guys from Killing stalking — arguably not as whumpy. But, they were the most toxic pairing I’d shipped, up until that point. I had only ever watched GoT too, till recently. I thought the fanfiction would be darker, I think. But I was still intrigued, cause I did draw them on one occasion. Then like 5 years later, I came to check this tag on a whim, and had such a visceral reaction to some fanart on here. Long story short, I now strangely ship three pairings where one half of the ship kidnapped (“kidnapped”) the other. And two where one character has .. lost some bits. *whispers* how are there two?? 💀

Yeah it's funny how you can tell yourself 'im just going to take a quick look' and then fall head-first into things. like you never saw it coming but suddenly it's a part of your life

or dismissing a thing only to return years later and realize that it was right up your alley all along

Your ask made me write even more because like you I hadn’t shipped anything on thramsay's level before so i didnt have a good frame of reference what it might have been like but i were intrigued too and it's cathartic putting into words what i think makes them so captivating to me

I definitely had interest in toxic relationships with abusive and dark elements in it long before but none where one of them had literally removed body parts from the other. I think Ive always been on the softer side so I need (needed? Idk if i do currently) some sort of mutual feelings even if it is irrational or non genuine like people who cant help but still love someone who hurts them or the reverse - loves someone but cant keep from hurting them. The DA fic kind of pushed that to its limits but it contained some sort of lingering sentimentality amidst graphic descriptions of flaying and i was thinking you can do that??? Though in that fic the torturer had been corrupted by magic so their relationship had been normal at one point which separates it from thramsay. but it had been proven to me that ppl could justify* ”love” in horrible conditions that is interesting to read and i should stop writing but i went into thramsay fics to find out if someone had done so (also whatever else, i was fucking around to find out)

It just hits the spot i ❤️ characters being conflicted about their lover and i want to be unable to tell if the ”love” they feel for their counterpart is actually something else

even though i'm not particularly into show-verse thramsay anymore the best example i can give is the infamous bathing scene where ramsay asks if reek loves him and reek says of course with full conviction and it's like obviously it isn't true though reek might feel like he does because he has conditioned himself to have that response, he brainwashed himself to cope and for safety because he has to believe so ramsay can't find out he's lying but then if he thinks he feels it so much that he does............? how do we define real vs fake love an-... whatever i'm going too far we don't need a philosophical discussion of this rn

you can make it worse by switching between him being self aware of all this to fully believing he's always been ramsay's, the way he slips back into theon's thinking patterns in the book from reek's and anything inbetween until you have toxic sludge on your hands and furthest thing from a normal, healthy relationship

and even more fun if you do the same to ramsay, it doesn't have to be real love but it's such a clingy obsession and dependency, mutual belonging and the idea that he will always return so his closeness, his whispers will be likened to that of a lover because what else is there to compare it to *there's probably a better way i could put it but by justify i mean the author writing something that makes sense from the character's point of view. i don't want to be misconstrued

[whumptober]

Is there an official definition of "whump"? I had a look in the About and FAQ and couldn't see it

The description from the whumpapedia wiki is: 'Whump is defined differently by each individual, but the general consensus is that it is a fandom term used to describe situations where a fictional character is hurt, be it emotionally or physically.'

Similarly, fanlore states: 'The term whump (or whumping) generally refers to a form of Hurt/Comfort that is heavy on the hurt and is often found in gen stories. The exact definition varies and has evolved over time. Essentially, whump involves taking a canon character, and placing them in physically painful or psychologically-damaging scenarios.'

Generally, the definition of whump can change depending on who you ask, for example I say whump is a blanket term for a variety of 'whumpy' tropes such as hurt/comfort, torture, broken bones, emotional hurt etc.

I'm curious as to know what everyone else defines whump as - feel free to say in the reblogs/replies! :D

[hold-him-down]

For the whump ask game:

What is one of the strangest things you have had to research for your whumpy writing?

Is there a kind of whump you wish you could write better?

What is one of the strangest things you have had to research for your whumpy writing?

I think the weirdest rabbit hole I went down was when I was heavy into the book of mormon (musical) fandom, I went super niche on the missionary rules and read through their entire manual.

Usually I'm just researching dark/weird med whump things, or like prison systems in turkey, or looking up how far it is from some random location in russia or something to a supermarket. I am NOT well researched at all I believe fully in my E.R. (1994) medical degree and my vibes.

There are expected searches that anyone outside of my circle might think are super weird but everyone on here I think would say it completely tracks, things like if male patients ever need to use stirrups (lol), what the most dangerous prison in the world is and why, etc, but I don't feel like those are all that strange on here.

Is there a kind of whump you wish you could write better?

ALL WHUMP I WISH I COULD WRITE BETTER. I am TERMINALLY hard on myself and my ability to put words onto paper, and I read some stuff on here and absolutely envy what some folks can do with words. I think I have some specific strengths with writing, but I have so many areas that I feel like I wish I could figure out better. With regards to whump writing, I guess I specifically would like to be better at writing dialogue/conversations (particularly *hard* conversations), that I could be better at choosing words that evoke the imagery in my head, and that I felt less reserved in writing the truly graphic scenes that have been bopping around in my head for so many years.

[catsandgoodbooks]

I have no idea what I'm doing or if this is even whumpy enough, but I looked over the prompt list and I couldn't say no <3

No. 1: "How many fingers am I holding up?"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dream burrowed deeper into the too-soft blankets he was surrounded by, too cold to worry about how smooth and silky everything was, how foreign it all was. He was freezing. They weren’t enough. He was so, so cold and there wasn’t anything he could do about it and he could barely move in the first place and he felt just so horrible and his head was aching and his vision was blurry and he didn’t know why.

(Dream thought back to Pandora’s Vault, the cell that he had spent a whole year of his life in, the prison that slowly, slowly became synonymous with home. He thought back to the cool dark obsidian surrounding everything there, the warm warm warm lava cutting off the cell from the rest of the world. He almost missed it. He knew that Technoblade would never let him go back. He knew that was a problem. He also knew how to solve it, but he couldn’t do that now; he wouldn’t be allowed to do that now. He just had to wait, which is what he always did; what he had been doing for so long and would have to do once again)

Dream was startled out of his thoughts by the sound of a door opening. His eyes flew to the source of the sound, landing on the faint shape of a pink-haired man walking through the doorway, before hiding his face in the blankets. He was too tired and cold to deal with this and he felt like he wanted to die but knew he didn’t want to and knew he probably wouldn’t.

“Heyyyyy, Dream,” Technoblade said, suddenly by the bed. He tugged the blankets back a little bit, exposing Dream’s head. “How you’re doing there?”

“Ughhh,” Dream muttered, trying to cover himself with the blankets again. He was too cold, with them or without, but it still made him feel better, just a little bit. “Go awayyyy, Tech.”

“Not a chance, nerd. Not until you feel better,” Techno responded. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Four,” Dream told him. He was pretty sure that Techno was holding up two fingers, even if they all seemed to blur together. He still had to try, even if his head really hurt and he was still freezing.

Technoblade frowned, and Dream pushed down a rush of oh Prime he just fucked up because it was Techno, not Sam. Techno would never hurt him. “I’m holding up two fingers right now, Dream.”

“Sorry,” Dream looked away, back towards the blankets he was cocooned in.

“No, it’s okay,” Techno said. “It’s not your fault that you’re not feeling well. Can I check your temperature?”

Dream reluctantly rolled towards Technoblade, trying to move as little as possible to avoid the stinging pain and pins and needles stabbing him whenever he did. He didn’t want to get hurt. He didn’t want to be hurt. (But that had never stopped anyone before)

Techno reached out (Dream tried to suppress a flinch, an expectation of pain) and put a hand on his forehead lightly before drawing back. He grimaced. “You’re burning up, Dream.”

“‘M cold,” Dream murmured.

“That’d be the fever,” Techno informed him. “Sorry about that, but we can’t really help that much. I mean, we’re trying, but still. We can’t fix everything, and being sick is one of those things you just have to wait it out. It sucks.” He wrinkled his nose, and Dream let out a soft laugh. “Phil made you some soup, if you’re up for it. It’s hot, y’know.”

That sounded nice. He wasn’t hungry, but he was just so cold. Dream tried to push himself into a sitting position but failed, his arms buckling, collapsing back into his cocoon of blankets.

“Uh, yeah, that might make it a bit difficult,” Techno responded. “Don’t worry about it; I can go bring you some and we can work something out.”

Dream nodded. He was still shivering a little, and his head felt like it was full of cotton, and he hated it. “It’s fine. ‘M not hungry.”

“Well, you should still eat, y’know. You’re not going to get any better if you don’t.”

“Fine.” Dream leaned his head back onto his pillow. His eyes flickered closed. “Fine,” he told Technoblade again.

“Good. If you’re fine with it, I’ll go get some soup,” Techno explained. “Be back in a minute, okay?”

Dream nodded without opening his eyes. It was fine with him. (It wasn’t because then he’d be alone and he was safe when he was alone at least a little but he never wanted to be alone and he’d already been for so long but if he asked Technoblade to stay that would admitting weakness, admitting that he cared, and he couldn’t do that and he was already so much of a burden–)

The sheets rustled as Technoblade brushed against them as he stepped away from the bed, footsteps following across the floor. As the sounds faded away, Dream tucked himself back into the cocoon of blankets around him, hold onto the blankets with shaking hands. They were so suffocatingly soft and if he could feel them, then he couldn’t be back at the prison no matter how dark it was or how alone he felt.

The door opened again, and the footsteps were back. Techno was back. (Dream wasn’t sure if he was excited or scared or just so, so numb)

“Hey, bestie! You still in there?” Techno asked, setting a bowl down on the bedside table, and Dream poked his head out of the blankets. “Good – I brought soup!”

“Yeah?” Dream asked quietly, subconsciously glancing at the steaming bowl on the table next to him. It smelled good.

“Uh huh,” Techno answered. “Think you can sit up?”

Dream glared at him. “What do you think?”

“Okay, so no then,” Techno responded. “Well, that’s fine, y’know. We can deal with that. Spoonfeeding’s okay with you?” he asked, picking up the spoon next to the bowl of soup, a smile spreading across his face.

“Oh my Prime, Techno, I have hands!” Dream immediately protested, his face red. “I have fucking hands I can use!” But his refusals were more playful than anything else, and the tight painful tangle in his chest was starting to unravel, just a little bit.