Jaybird screaming in the dead of night
Home is where the hurt is:Â Part 1
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âHey Jay,â Zayne sang, slowly, menacingly, butchering âHey Judeâ, while swirling himself around the corner into the kitchen startling Jay. âDonât be afraid.â
Jay, at the first notes of his name in rhyme, turned away from the counter and his dinner prep, his eyebrows raising in surprise and the hairs on his arms in alarm. Just hearing his name in song gave him many reasons to be afraid. He raised his chopping knife in an automatic response, just holding it out in front of him.
âDrop the knife,â Zayne said, now stepping forward and emphasizing his words with the click of his own knife, flicking it up, âUnless you want to compare which one is sharper.â
His kitchen knife might not be as sharp, but it was coated in onion juices. Not an experiment Jay wanted to engage in. With a loud clank, he dropped it in the sink, falling another step back.
Zayne kept advancing on him, slowly, backing him into the dark corner of the kitchen, talking and waving his knife about with every step. âSo, I just bumped into your neighbour, downstairs. Or well, he almost fully crashed into me, really. So I shouted after him, holding the door open for him, âHey, whatâs the hurry?!â And you know what he shouted back?â
Probably, yeah, Jay had an inkling of where this was going. And how it was now going to bite â stab â him in the arse. But he kept his mouth shut, dread stealing his voice and knowing Zayne would continue his terrorizing monologue anyway.
Which he did. âHe said, âSorry, Iâm late!â. So I asked, âLate for what?!ââ The conversational tone fell away as he leaned forward against Jay, one hand brushing against his, pinning him to the kitchen counter. âWork,â he breathed in Jayâs face. âHe was late for work.â
Jay leaned back as far as he could, hands on the edge of the counter, arms bending. He tried to make a soft hum in feigned surprise, but it turned to a soft but sharp inhale as the knife was brought up in his face.
âYou never told me he works night shifts,â Zayne crooned, brushing the flat of the knife over Jayâs jawline.
âI mean, it never really came uââ
âBut then it all started making sense, you know. How you always tried to hold back on your screaming in the afternoon. And here I was, making an effort to keep the noise down at nightâŚâ
The knife fell away from Jayâs clenched jaw, dropped against his clavicle and disappeared under his collar. The cold sensation turned sharper, gradually pressing into his skin.
âWell, no need to worry about that now, you donât have to hold back. He just left. You can scream as much as you want.â
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~Bonus~
Zayne leaned back and pulled the kitchen knife from the sink.
âWhat were you chopping?â he asked, turning the knife back and forth as if he could analyse what was on it (instead of, you know, looking back).
âOnions...â
âHm.â He swiped his own blade over the knife as if sharpening it, making them sing a threatening tune together. âDo you think it stings in more than just your eyes?â
âYou don't need onions to make me cry,â Jay tried to goad him into dropping the knife. He didnât need a dual-wielding Zayne.
Zayne merely stared at him, eyes softening to a fond expression as he was mulling it over and the stupidity of Jayâs words hit him.
âYouâre right,â he said, to Jayâs short-lived relieve. Then his tone shifted and he merely whispered: âI don't.â
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Tag list:
Tag list: @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @burtlederp @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @hurtmebeautifully @rougenoirofthepurpleterror @susiequaz12 @whump-me-all-night-long @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @im-just-here-for-the-whump @restrainthenmaime @freefallingup13 @whatwasmyprevioususername @myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19 @firewheeesky @redstainedsocks @hold-back-on-the-comfort @whumpawink @break-so-beautifully @approach-me-and-ill-cry @painsandconfusion @afabulousmrtake @wormwriting @soopytime @whumpedydump @pickleking8 @itsmyworld98 @whumpifi @painless-and-colourful @withdrawingramen
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The whumpee may had been rescued, but they had scars that would never fade. The marks from shackles that were far too tight were still on their wrists, and whip marks covered their back with little mercy- the whumper had made sure the whumpee never truly forgot them.
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No peaceful sleep for whumpee.
Captive whumpee who isnât given a place to sleep.
Captive whumpee who is kept bound in an uncomfortable day and night, with no way to lay down.
Captive whumpee who is forced to sleep on a cold, hard floor.
Captive whumpee who is woken up every hour by whumper.
Captive whumpee whose whumper comes in to torment them while theyâre sleeping.
Captive whumpee whose whumper blasts noise so they canât sleep properly.
Captive whumpee who is sprayed with water whenever they fall asleep.
Captive whumpee who is allowed to sleep, but only when they fulfill whumperâs terms.
Captive whumpee who is allowed to sleep but only while whumper is with them or only in whumperâs bed.
Recovering whumpee who canât sleep without horrible nightmares that wake them up with a racing heart.
Recovering whumpee whose caretaker always sees them whimpering and tossing and turning as they sleep, muttering ânoâ and âpleaseâ in between sharp breaths.
Recovering whumpee who is afraid to go to sleep due to the fear that something will happen to them while theyâre not alert.
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nothing's certain but death and taxes.
prints + merch + dm for commission info
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Sneaking Around
The entire time I was working on this, I had Henry Manciniâs âThe Pink Pantherâ theme stuck in my head. I used a sunset picture for my color palette, see below the cut.
Originally I thought this was a preliminary moment to a first meeting. I saw it as tiny Kristine was sneaking around, attempting to avoid whoever lived in this enormous place, having never seen a giant before. She has no clue she is being snuck up on by the giant themselves. However the more I toyed with it, the more I saw other stories and possible scenarios surface.
Iâd LOVE to hear your ideas on what you think the story of this piece is. Are they sneaking around together? Are they on a heist? Are they friends playing a game? Is the giant going to spook/prank their friend Kristine? Is the giant a known villain our hero Kristine is trying to avoid? Please share what you think is happening here - or about what happens after this image. Write, draw, comment or reblog. Iâd love to hear your interpretation.
Master Post with links to all my posted content
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One of my absolute favorite tropes is
âWe have taken the one you love most!â
âOh, have you? Good fukken luck lmaoâ
*distant screams of kidnappers as loved one escapes*
or the flipside:
âWeâve kidnapped you!â
âYou are in so much trouble. You are in so much fucking trouble. You are in the most trouble ever, oh my god.â
*DOOR EXPLODES INWARDS AS LOVED ONE ARRIVES*
and the alternate:
*vehicle pulls up, door opens, person is shoved out, door slams, vehicle screeches away*
âDid you get kidnapped??â
âFor a minute yeahâ
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His hand pressed against the glass as it steamed up, his breath thick with fear.
How long could he keep breathing knowing each breath could be his last? Whumpeeâs throat felt like it had collapsed down into his lungs, broken and crumpled like the rest of him.
Whumpeeâs wings hung limply down his back, the twitch of one ever present in his mind. With his fingers on the glass, Whumpee felt the shakes of the ground as Whumper began walking towards the study.
Whumpee could only see a small section of the room but that was more than enough to let him know he could die here. The jewelled shimmering wing of one of his people was set on a book about fae, next to a small jar of pins.
Whumpee braced himself for the swing of the door as the footsteps came even closer. The old oak door, as it always did, thudded into the wall sending tremours through the house and through Whumpeeâs heart.
Today could be the day he died, but so could have yesterday and so could be tomorrow. But maybe this time tomorrow, Whumpee would be wishing he was dead rather than fearing it.
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"Come out, come out, wherever you are," A voice echoed through the hallway, its tone dripping with playfulness but a shiver rippled down Whumpee's spine as they pushed themself further against the corner of the cabinet.
"You can't hide forever, little one."
Whumpee squeezed their eyes shut tight, as tight as they could. Their body shook as they hugged their knees closer to their chest.
Footsteps echoed through the hallway as they grew closer,
Thud, thud, thud, thud, ......
Silence.
Whumpee shot a hand over their mouth, desperate to keep in any sounds but it was no use. The door of the cabinet slowly creaked open and Whumpee shook with sobs. A warm hand cupped their cheek, turning their head to look at Whumper, "Oh little one," They hummed, their thumb gently brushing along Whumpee's cheekbone, "I could smell your fear from miles away."
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More Whumper Lines
In honor of my first Whumper lines post getting over 1,000 notes, hereâs some more! And in some fun categories!
Tag me if you end up using any!
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Playful/Cheery/Lighthearted
1. âAw, that was cute. I almost felt that excuse for a punch. Why donât you try again?â
2. âMy favorite part is right before you lose consciousness.â
3. âCaretaker, you know how to do stitches, right? No? Oh well.â
4. âHm. Your bloodâs darker than the last oneâs was.â
5. âSounds like Whumpeeâs having fun in thereâŚwould you like to go join them?â
Dark/Violent/Rough
1. âGet the fuck over here or Iâm dragging you.â
2. âLook at me. Look at me while I hurt you.â
3. âNothing you say is going to stop me. I have a job to do, and I donât give a shit how it happens.â
4. âDonât you get it? Iâm not being careful. I want this to hurt you.â
5. âStay still, you motherfâStay STILL!â
Creepy/Intimate
1. âCome on, scream like you mean itâŚthere we go. Much better.â
2. âItâs so cute when you fumble with your keys everyday when you come home.â
3. âYour pretty little screams are only for me to hear, understand?â
4. âItâs a shock to me that youâve never considered modeling. I meanâŚred just looks so good on you.â
5. âAh, you remember this scar, donât you? The day we metâŚgod, what Iâd give to break you like that again.â
Reluctant/Hesitant
1. âLook, IâmâIâm sorry, I just need to get this over-with. Bite on this.â
2. âTheyâll check for bruises. I have to.â
3. âIâm sorry, boss, IâveâŚIâve never done this before. I-Iâm trying.â
4. âDonât look at me like that when the others are here. Please. Theyâll know Iâm faking it.â
5. âIâm sorry, I had to say itâyou know thatâs not how I actually think of you, right?â
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70 minutes drawing theme eyeball-â
Ą
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Whumpee who cries.
Whumpee who cries in great, violent, racking sobs that shake their whole chest.
Whumpee who cries silently, tears rolling down their face as they refuse to move of make a sound.
Whumpee who hugs themself and curls into a ball as they cry.
Whumpee who cries so hard for so long their whole face and head hurt.
Whumpee with eyes that are bloodshot from crying, and their face is sticky with tears.
Whumpee who cries until they canât cry any more, only twitching and making little sobbing noises while no tears come.
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Sometimes, all you need is one full-grown man, backing another full-grown man against a wall...
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âYes.â | âKneel.â | Best of Three | Correspondence
It is a fucking decent reward, getting to sleep outside of the cell.
A deep breath of air slides into his lungs and huffs out. He looks and sounds like an exhausted, beaten dog, he knows. The blindfold is stuck to his face from the sweat and pain-tears earlier. The air is cool out here. Gotta be warmer in that cage, shoved up against other guys, skin on skin and everybody panting with stress.
There are no chains on him, nothing to keep him down to the floor, but he stays down anyway. Stays still. Across the room, the last two guys mutter to each other. Makes the hairs on the backs of his arms stand up, knowing those guys might have secrets. Might be talking shit about him.
Heâd bitch under his breath about it, but⌠someoneâs probably watching. Heâs not desperate to be good or anything, he just⌠doesnât want more burns anytime soon. Or to die. He really doesnât want to die.
âHey. Guy from before, you over there?â
The whisper came from the cage, he thinks. Jaw clenching, Major resigns himself to keeping his mouth shut.
âThink youâre better than us?â Says the second guy in the cage, voice low and gravelly. ââCause you were so good you get to sleep out there?â
The less blackened, blood-sticky hand at his side balls up into a fist. Fuck you, he wants to say. Fuck you, Iâm not good.
âDonât gotta be a jerk,â Says the first voice in its careful whisper.
âI think he liked it,â Taunts the second.
Something in the air over Major shifts. Not a smell, exactly. Not a touch. But he holds very still anyway, goosebumps rising across the back of his neck.
A pinprick of warmth on his back, and his muscles twitch away from it instinctively before he forces himself into stillness. It is a fingertip, calloused and warm. Sliding from the back of a rib to the spine, down that curve and then up to trace between shoulder blades, finally growing into a large swath of warmth across his shoulder and up the side of his neck. A splayed hand.
Major shivers under it. He canât see the face of the guy above him, but he is getting better at reading the tone behind the pressure of the touch laid on him. It feels approving. Curious.
From the cage comes more words that are nearly drowned out, once again, by the blood rushing in Majorâs head as his panic slowly builds. âHey, out there. Answer us. You dead or something?â
âYeah, if⌠you can hear us, can you just say something? Thereâs no one here. Three of us left, right? We may as well just, you know. Team up.â
A finger taps at the side of his neck. Feels idly amused, like the guy is just watching to pass the time. Major swallows, and feels the hand slide over to feel the bobbing of his Adamâs apple. He shivers again.
âI think weâve found our top student.â
taglist: @morning-star-whump, @lthrboy, @apokolyps
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Thinking about whumpers and whumpees and the intimacy of stabbing. The inherent intimacy of the act.
Whumpers who lean into whumpees as they drive the knife in... The slight resistance then give somewhere soft and vulnerable... Does the whumper whisper something into whumpee's ear? Are they silent? Do they take note of the way whumpee's breath hitches, or the warmth of their body heat radiating from where the hilt of the knife kisses the skin? Do they savor the blood leaking out onto their knuckles and between their fingers, or does it disgust them?
Do they hold whumpee close in mock comfort as they wait for them to pass out from pain/shock/blood loss? Do they hold them, hand fisted in their hair, for the express purpose of keeping them upright only to drop them, let them collapse at their feet?
Do they yank the knife out? Tighten their grip and hold it there to savor the feeling? Do they twist the blade? Bring the knife up and stab them again?
Whumpee trembling as they try to process what just happened, their brain not able to make sense of the pain just yet. Doubling over with a low gut-punched groan or barely there whimper when they do.
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i bleed, and i ache
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When a character is down trying to get up and the villain kicks the shit out of them send tweet
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