#Whumper turned Whumpee

[whumpsday]

Kane & Jim #57: Indulgence

Chronological masterlist / Writing order masterlist

content: recovery, comfort, starvation, body image issues, fear of torture, whumper turned whumpee

sorry for the long wait! i really do want to write more this year :)

-

Before Kane could get a single word out, he was tackled.

He just barely managed to keep his balance and stop himself from toppling to the ground as Bellamy’s arms wrapped around him like a blanket, pulling him in warm and tight.

“You were dead.” His voice came out squeaky, thick with quick-forming tears. “There was that incident last month, but everyone thought that must have had to have been an impersonator. You’re truly here! Truly!”

“I’m here.” Kane hugged him back, but they only stayed like that a moment before Bellamy pulled back to see his face, still looking quite as though he couldn’t believe Kane were real.

“Where on Earth were you?” he asked, hands still clutching Kane’s arms with the grip of a man who imagined those arms would vanish if he let go.

“It’s a long story.” Kane took a deep breath. “Bellamy, I’ve wanted to say this for a long time. I’m so sorry for how I treated you. I know–”

“Oh, don’t worry about that right now,” Bellamy did free one hand then, requiring it to gesture flippantly and then wipe the tears from his face. “Appreciated, to be sure, but there will be plenty of time for that after more pressing matters. Please, do come in, darling.”

A soft smile grew on Kane’s face. Bellamy wasn’t angry with him, at least. “Thank you. I would love to.”

It was only after he’d crossed the threshold of the doorway that Bellamy dared to let go, though he didn’t let his eyes off Kane for a moment as he made his way to sit on a plush couch in the living room.

“Can I get you something to drink?” he asked, all politeness, though Kane knew exactly what he must look like. What Bellamy must see. Perhaps if Bellamy had seen him months earlier, he would have been unable to maintain such composure.

Not that Kane really minded at all. He was being offered food. “Yes, please.”

Before he knew it–Bellamy having dashed the whole way to the refrigerator and back–there was a pack of cold blood in his hands. “I’m able to warm it up for you, of course, but I do recall that when we were boys, you’d always said the pre-packaged never tastes as good reheated.”

“I don’t mind either way, nowadays.” Truthfully, Bellamy could have tripped and spilled the blood all over the floor and he would have gladly licked it up without much thought. He had before.

He bit into the soft plastic casing and drank. The cool blood was a bit stale, though nowhere approaching spoiled. He wouldn’t have cared if it was. It was delicious nonetheless, and after he’d exhausted what he could suck out through the holes, he tore the packaging apart and licked up every remaining drop clinging to the sides.

“It’s ethically-sourced,” Bellamy commented. “From free, willing, paid humans overseas.”

“It’s really good! Can I have another?” Kane asked before he could stop himself. He’d never been able to indulge before, not since his capture. He was grateful for what Jim had given him, of course. Grateful would be the understatement of the century. But Jim was one human, and he could only give so much at a time.

“Of course!” Bellamy clapped, just once, delighted. And when Bellamy returned, he had two.

Kane downed both, in the same manner as the first. Three meals, just like a human.

“I don’t mean to pry,” Bellamy started slowly, despite that it was very obvious he quite badly wanted to pry. His voice got a touch lower, gentler. “But Kane, my dear. Have you been… eating well?”

Kane crinkled the empty casings, something to do with his hands. He’d really been very proud of the progress he’d made. When he’d first seen himself in Jim’s bathroom mirror, he looked almost like a skeleton, every available bit of fat and muscle his body could spare cannibalized in its attempt to find something to keep him going, until there was nothing left.

He did look better now, after six months of regular meals. He was still far, far skinnier than he was before the hunters, but he had some meat on him now. His cheeks only sunk in a little bit. His collarbone jutted out in a way that just barely bordered ‘passably normal’. You could see the bones of his arms from the inner arm, but not the outer, so as long as he took care to hold his arms just so, no one could tell. Not that he ever really made an effort. His hair didn’t have bald patches anymore, didn’t shed every time he touched it. If he wore layers, which he always did–and not even for that reason–you couldn’t see his ribs. So long as one didn’t look too carefully, he could pass as a regular man.

But Bellamy always looked carefully.

Bellamy didn’t look starved at all. He didn’t have to try not to, of course. His skin was smooth and his face was full. His hair was thick and lucious and styled. He had the figure of a healthy man, one who had food available to him every single day of his life. He only wore one shirt and his abdomen didn’t fall inward from under his ribs like Kane’s did. He smelled like lavender cologne. He practically glowed.

“I… went through a period where I hadn’t been eating very well at all. But as of the past few months, I have,” he answered honestly.

Bellamy sat beside him. “Truth be told, I do mean to pry this time. On account of my increasing worry, you see. Where have you been all this time?”

“Human territory.” Kane looked down at the empty packaging in his hands. The label used the same phrasing Bellamy had–Free, willing humans! “I was captured by vampire hunters when I’d, I’d, ah, hunted f-for a new human. Things were not, um, good there. I wasn’t fed, as you’ve gathered. Then Jim, you remember Jim? He came and got me out. I’ve been living with him for the past seven months. Not owning him!” he clarified hastily, looking up then. “As roommates.”

“I see.” Bellamy’s eyebrows had slowly drawn together in concern more and more the longer Kane had talked. “Well, I’m certainly glad you’re out of there now, dear. I did always like that Jim boy.”

“And I’m sorry,” Kane tried again. “You were right about everything. About humans, about me, about our families, all of it. And I was a bad friend. Even before we parted ways, I always acted like I was better than you. I’ve had a lot of time to think about this. I really am sorry.” And then, before he could stop himself: “Do you think we could try again?”

Bellamy smiled. “Well, I really am right about everything,” he mused. “I’ll admit, it’s all true. It took me a time to see as well, that you really were dreadful, though I never imagined I’d hear an apology from you.”

Though Kane had expected worse to start, it still tore a hole in him to hear Bellamy call him dreadful. Even if he knew it was true.

“That said,” Bellamy continued, “We were children. I was never the one bearing the brunt of your wrongs, and you’ve clearly turned over a new leaf. If even Jim has forgiven you, I see no reason not to. Absolutely, we can rekindle a friendship.”

Jim has not forgiven him: he’d made that clear. But he moved forward anyway. Maybe he could do that himself, too.

“I would love that.” Kane let out a sigh he didn’t realize he was holding, like a weight had been lifted from him after a century. “Maybe–maybe you could visit sometime. If you want to. I’d have to get permission. Do you ever go to human territory? I mean, you shouldn’t, but if I got permission, Jim’s sister is a hunter, you see, so it should–”

“Oh, yes, the sister! Elizabeth, if I recall? Yes, I’ve spoken with her, though well over a decade ago,” Bellamy cut in. “I do imagine she’s quite pleased to have her brother returned.”

Kane blinked. “You know Liz?”

“Oh, Jim and Caroline had exchanged phone numbers that night we met, you see. Caroline and the young girl had had a few conversations, but the girl had stopped at some point when she’d realized we had no way to affect Jim’s situation. I do not mean to imply I know her, I’d merely answered the phone and handed it off to Caroline a time or two. She’d always sounded frightened when I’d been the one to answer, so I did not linger,” he explained. “My, she must be grown by now. How time flies!”

“Oh. That’s–she never mentioned,” Kane stammered. “Is Caroline still…?”

“Alive and well, I assure you, though she has moved on to greener pastures. She’s found love, you see. She lives with her boyfriend nowadays, though she’s over often enough that my kitchen is still stocked with human food.” Bellamy reached to collect Kane’s empty packages, which he reluctantly released.

“So she’s back in human territory?” he asked.

“No, just across town. Her boyfriend is no human.”

Kane’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh. Oh my.”

He supposed he shouldn’t be too scandalized by the thought of a human and a vampire together. Humans were people, he knew that now, he’d accepted it long ago. Still, it felt… odd, in a way he could not adequately explain.

Bellamy laughed. “You must get with the times, darling.”

-

They sat there chatting for hours, and Kane had almost never felt lighter. It was like he was someone else, a version of him he’d never been before, where he was not horrible to anyone and no one had ever been horrible to him. Bellamy didn’t know what happened, not really, and with him, it was like he could forget, too. Just for an evening.

Just until he happened to glance at Bellamy’s clock and notice the time.

He startled out of nowhere. “It’s late,” he gasped. “I’m not–am I going to be able to get home in time?”

“Well, I’m not sure, as I’ve no idea where you live,” Bellamy points out. “Will you?”

It was the wrong thing to say. Kane grabbed Bellamy’s sleeve, terror striking his heart. “Please don’t make me go out there,” he begged. “I can’t–please, Bellamy, please.”

“What?” Bellamy put his hand over Kane’s, though he made no effort to remove his hold. “Of course, dear. You may spend the day if you wish. Why on earth would I force you into the morning?”

It was all crumbling apart. Of course he couldn’t be normal.

“I’m sorry,” Kane squeaked out, tearing up, but before he could say more, he found himself enveloped in a hug.

“It’s alright.” Bellamy held him as he struggled to collect himself. “You needn’t explain. Or you can, if you’re ready, or once you’re ready.”

“Thank you,” Kane breathed.

It was silent, then. He didn’t want to explain. Not yet.

When he’d stopped crying–not that long after, by Kane’s standards, to his pride–Bellamy pulled back. “You know,  I was wondering… how you’re getting blood? Is it still Jim?”

“Oh, yes,” Kane sniffled. “He’s very generous. But he’s actually just recently stopped, and I’m to provide my own from now on. I was meant to go to my parents and clear my status as deceased, but at the last second I decided to come here.”

“I’m flattered,” Bellamy said haughtily, a hand on his chest. “You’d mentioned my going to visit you. What if I were to bring you blood? The kind you’d ‘sampled’ tonight.”

“You’d really do that?” Kane asked. The idea was beyond tantalizing–he could have all the blood he wanted, and not have to run across human territory, even the part with friendly hunters.

“I do. I would so like a chance to visit human territory without scaring the locals, besides!” Bellamy enthused. “A win for us both!”

The next night, Kane returned home with a bag full of blood packs. For once, he could see a future for himself.

-

…

He reviewed the grainy VCR footage captured by the security cameras at the de Sang estate. It was the strangest thing: he just ran up to the gate, stood there for a moment, and ran away. And everyone else was ready to write it off as if it had never happened, all hush-hush. The boring lot of them.

Anton smiled. “Well, look who’s not dead.”

-

taglist in reblogs

[thewhumpcaretaker]

⛓️ When the Whump is a Consequence ⛓️

I just think it’s so interesting when whumpee has done genuinely awful things that led to the whump.

Whumpee was a terrible leader whose people rose up against them

Whumpee is being justly punished for a crime

Whumpee hurt or betrayed someone who has come back for revenge

Whumpee has always gotten their way and looked down on people “below them” - now they have to experience being humbled

Whumpee was ignoring all warning signs, thinking they were invincible, and now look, if it isn’t the consequences of their own actions

Whumpee was acting on a tragic flaw like hubris or envy and it came back to bite them

Whumpee was formerly a whumper

How do they respond to the situation? Do they struggle with guilt, reflect, and change their ways? Maybe they even repent more than they deserve and start to hate themself. Or maybe they still deny any responsibility and rail against their punishment.

And how do other people respond? Do they enjoy whumpee’s punishment? Do they enjoy it a little too much, perhaps leading them to go down a dark path or question their own morality? Or do they have sympathy for whumpee out of a sense of unconditional acceptance/love/humanitarianism? Do people help them reform themself and get through the experience emotionally? Or do they take their unconditional acceptance “too far” and try to absolve whumpee of all accountability, becoming an enabler? Either way, we have so much interesting ethical conflict!

[paingoes]

Hi, Paris! (Destroyer era)

🥂 - Looking back on the last year, is there anything you regret? Anything you would have done differently?

[sacredwrath]

P13. Be afraid

Violence, wound care, past torture, touch aversion, nausea mention, self harm?, suicidal ideation (encouraged), negative self perception

“Hey there, come on back now.” The words find Adrian somewhere far away. They wash over him, conveying little meaning.

He floats

“Adrian!” More forceful. That's his name, isn't it? Did he have a name?

“Adrian, it's time to come back now, come on, wake up.” These words are accompanied by a spike of irritation. Who's disturbing him?

“Adrian!” This time, a sensation, a small pain against his cheek. He has a cheek? He has a body

Body awareness hits him

He shoots back into himself, leaping up with a gasp, unsteady legs almost dumping him to the floor. Where is he? Who is hurting him?

The walls are dusty brick, and his feet press into concrete. His cell, Jesse's basement. He relaxes a fraction

A small, dark-skinned woman with wild hair and a bloody rag in her hand looks up at him from where she's seated on a cot. Was that always here?

“Hey hey, it's ok,” she says, raising her hands to show she's unarmed. “It's just me… Wonder. L- Apollo went to grab my kit. I'm a medic. We met before, but you were kinda out of it” she trails off

Right, Jesse's friends. The blonde man- Apollo? Stupid name

What the fuck just happened? He's off balance. He hates being off balance. Why was he unconscious?

“Don't touch me!” He snaps as she reaches for him. It comes out tight and unmistakably panicked. Weak- He bears his teeth. Who gave her permission-

Pull yourself together

Can't let them see it

She has her hands up again. “It's ok, I'm not going to hurt you it's just a soothing antibiotic ointment.”

“What?” He still feels off balance, he doesn't understand. Why is she tending his wounds?

“For the pain?”

…

“L-Apollo thought you were having a… reaction to the pain.”

He doesn't understand. Why? Best to agree. He nods, forcing himself to take a few steps towards her.

Gingerly he sits, forcing himself to angle his bared back towards her. It feels like willingly reaching for a hot stove

He flinches at her touch. Fucking weak-

Trying to calm himself he holds still as her fingers move over his back. Each touch burns, sending goose flesh racing across his skin

His last memory was the blonde man coming through the door. He'd been feeling pretty good then? Hadn't he? He likes watching the man squirm and this time he was squirming. The man hadn't known how to use a whip-

Of course, he bites his tongue, letting the slight pain ground him

A whip, fucking typical. Disgust roils in his belly. He'd thought he'd be over this. The man was fucking incompetent with a whip anyways. Did he even hit him? Fucking weak, pathetic-

Her fingers graze the back of his neck and he grits his teeth against bile suddenly rising in his throat.

She finally breaks contact and he allows himself an unsteady breath.

But then her fingers are back and he flinches hard. Revolting-

“Sorry” she says automatically. Is she? He has to fight every instinct he has to make himself unfurl and lean back towards her.

“Almost done.” Is she trying to reassure him? Pathetic

She rubs ointment over another laceration. Her fingers feel like thousands of tiny needles, stinging, but not hurting. He gags, twisting suddenly to grab her wrist. He can't take it

“Get away from me bitch!” He snaps, wrenching her arm viciously and throwing her to the ground.

She cries out, landing awkwardly and he grins. Finally. Satisfaction, control, relief wash through him so fast it makes him dizzy. Yes

He stalks towards her with purpose and she scrambles away, the fear plain in her eyes. He takes his time, wanting to enjoy this.

Where to start? Her fingers, obviously. The hands that were all over his bare skin. His stomach turns, he can still feel their phantom touch. Should he break them? Take off her nails? Breaking them might be too... harsh

He lunges at her, but she darts past him, faster than he expected. Or maybe he's just slower. Her elbow collides hard with his spine and he yelps, spinning back to face her with a growl. Break them then. Each and every one that touched him. Hes going to rip them out one by one and make her fucking eat them

“Come on” she says, hands half raised as if she's still not sure if she wants to fight him. “You really think you can take me in your condition? I don't want to hurt you.” Part of him tries to remember his condition. He's injured, severely injured in his legs, and was unconscious not 10 minutes ago. Maybe he should care, but he doesn't

He throws himself at her, ducking a fist, in past her guard. She kicks out, connecting with his ruined shin, and he howls. The world going white for a moment. When it comes back, he's on top of her, straddling her hips. His wounded knees dig hard into the floor on either side of her. It hurts, but the pain just makes him more angry. He buries a fist in her face, and another before she bucks her hips, knocking him forward, off balance. Grabbing his arm, she flips him off of her, reversing their positions, but before he can react, he feels the tip of a knife digging into his neck.

He almost begs for it 

“Go on then.” He half screams “fucking do it! I can see how bad you want to!” Breathing hard he can feel the sharp edge biting gently into his skin. “You're little friend couldn't. Wanted to teach me a lesson first. But between you and me, I just think he's a coward.” He can't stop the laugh bubbling up in him. “Come on now,” he tries to sound soothing, not crazy. “For Jesse.” He pouts. “Think about how broken they looked when they got back. All shaky and crying, probably flinching at even your most gentle touch.” he tsks “so sad” 

“Misha!” A startled gasp from the door. She glances back and Adrian takes the chance, knocking the blade away from his neck. He twists, throwing her off him, trying to swing the blade around to her neck, but she is too strong. She grapples him, knife clasped in both their hands as they each try to keep it away from themself.

Then the blonde man, Apollo, is there. He stomps hard on Adrian's wrist, grinding it into the cement as the woman lets go. He wines in pain, flailing with his other hand, trying to grab her. She extracates herself easily and stands, looming over him.

“I think you're the coward.” She growls, knife back in her hand. “You're trying so hard to get someone to do it for you. Why? Too scared to do it yourself?" She sneers. "Maybe if you're good, when Apollos done, I'll leave what's left of you with the knife.” she spits at him, pointedly folding the knife as she turns away

He sees red, diving after the pair. A boot knocks him back. He dives again, just in time for the door to slam shut in his face. He screams

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Tag list: @whumpacabra @turn-the-tables-on-them @kiichu @whatwhump @jay--o @starsick1979

[valcaira]

Attention Whump Community!

Clogging disability tags is a massive problem that we need to address. Many tags, especially those surrounding permanent injuries, paralysis, vision loss and certain illnesses have become unusable due to being flooded with unrelated things. Yes, that includes your writing. Those tags are not for you. It's isolating, frustrating and depressing to try finding a community and other people who share your issues but all that comes up is whump, fandom shit, gifs, headcanons, etc.

I'm newly paralyzed. I have looked at many tags surrounding paralysis, trying to find support, a community, anything of people struggling with the same thing. Nothing. There's barely anything for us in the general disabilty tags. I am BEGGING you to understand and recognize how AWFUL it is.

So, I have a proposition. A tag you can and should use exclusively for disability content in whump writing. Not any other tag surrounding disability, lest you'll clog it up.

#disabled whumpee

It's tempting to use more specific tags, I get it. Due to being in the whump community myself I know #medical whump is already a tag. You have those tags. Use them. Don't use the disability tags. Don't clog up the few spaces us disabled people have.

[a-class-attempter]

Caretaker circled Whumper, whom was tied to a chair, electrodes along their chest.

“Ple-” Whumper screamed, lighting surging through their body. When the shock ceased, they collapsed with a sob.

“What did I say about talking.” Caretaker growled. They grabbed Whumper by the jaw, forcing eye contact. “I wasn’t lying when I said I would die for Whumpee. And I wasn’t lying when I said I’d kill for them.” Caretaker squeezed Whumper’s jaw, their nails digging into their skin. “And you best believe I’d torture for them.”

[bamber344]

got zombie apocalypse setting whump on the brain rn.

whumper taking advantage of the breakdown of society to kidnap a whumpee and keep them in their isolated cabin in the woods. Eventually a group of survivors comes across the cabin while whumper's out and frees whumpee, hearing their story. Then they wait together for whumper to get back so they can all enact some justice.

bonus points if someone in the survivor's group is whumpee's loved one who they got separated from. lovely reunion <3

but also other directions this could go teehee

[sorrowful-hyacinth]

Random thoughts.

You know what would be fun? A Whump coloring book. I have a weird thing about not coloring my own art because I’m never completely happy with how it looks, but for some reason I really like coloring books.

A coloring book full of your own OC’s or your favorite characters being in every possible hurt/comfort scenario you can think of. From sick fic material to gore horror. That would be so fun. And imagine little story snippets on each page to describe the scene or the events that led to it.

“Exhibit A: We have a Whumpee being lashed because they punched Whumper in self defense. Bad Whumpee.”

“Exhibit B: We have a Whumper getting a taste of their own medicine, being boiled alive in a cauldron.”

I feel like it would be so therapeutic just coloring a scene of someone being covered in blood or being strung up to the ceiling, being stuck out in a blizzard. You could make it fun too and make spins on it. Like it’s the most innocent scene in the world with happy snowmen and kids running around while you have a pet whumpee just sitting bare in the freezing snow with their leash tied to a tree.

You know, fun things like that. Just a thought.

[chaotic-orphan]

Oh How the Turn Tables

“Whumpee,” Whumper said with a breath. The rain made Whumpee’s dark strands of hair stick to his forehead, even under his hoodie. Whumper straightened. “What are you doing here?”

Whumpee tilted his head to the side, his eyes dead as a slow smirk spread across his pale face. “You not gonna invite me in, Whumper? Not even for old time’s sake?”

“You shouldn’t be here,” Whumper growled under his breath, stepping out of the house and half closing the door behind him. “This is crossing a line.”

Whumpee’s smirk melted into a false sympathy. “Aww, is this crossing the line for you Whumper? Really? Am I invading your privacy? Your little bubble of safety.”

“Our relationship is a working one, Whumpee.” Whumper snapped. “This is my personal life.”

“I know,” Whumpee said with a grin. “I’ve been watching the house for days. Your girls look just darling, and your boy, he’s got real potential as a soccer player.”

The information chilled Whumper to the core. He had never experienced this side of Whumpee before, the threatening side. The weapon side. Whumpee was always pathetic when Whumper interacted with him, or pleading.

“These are my family,” Whumper whispered.

“Oh I know. It just so happened that your work life,” Whumpee said, stepping up and forcing Whumper back a step. “Intruded on my personal life too, Whumper. Let’s just call this payback, hmm?”

Whumper swallowed hard when he felt the tip of a knife in his stomach, just above his hip. “Let’s meet the family, hmm? See what kind of kids the monster of my every waking moment is rearing.”

“Whumpee, please—”

Whumpee blinked. He paused. He stepped back. “Oh,” he said and Whumper stilled. Hope blossomed in his chest.

“Please don’t do this.” Whumper said.

“Huh. You’re right,” Whumpee said. Whumper fought the sigh of relief that wanted to escape his lips. It meant Whumpee was still human, that he could still be reasoned with. All that positive hope melted away when Whumpee’s expression darkened into one of vicious glee. “Saying please really doesn’t do anything to save you. I see it now, Whumper.”

Whumper shook his head as Whumpee pushed him back in the open door of his house, the knife pressed into his gut. “Let’s see what else you’ll prove yourself right on.”

*~*~*~*~*

A.N.

Today is a black day, and I’m really sorry to any of my American readers/moots, I’m just really sorry and I hope you do something nice for yourselves today — just keep moving forward, that’s the biggest rebellion you can do in the face of the oncoming storm— just keep moving forward.

[hurtfortea]

"You'll never hurt anyone again."

Caretaker captures Whumper and conditions them to associate the sight of blood, wounds or sounds indicating any kind of hurt (screaming, yelping, whimpering, begging, etc) with pain. This also means they’re not just scared of hurting others, but they hate looking at their own wounds and avoid making noise when they are hurt because the sounds upset them.

[jordanstrophe]

Yay! Can I please request a feral Caretaker who is extremely protective of their whumpee?? Any scenario is fine, I just really wanna see your take on a feral Caretaker!!

LOVE IT! Done and done

CW: Vengful caretaker, re-introduced to whumper, violent caretaker, aftermath and angst

Whumpee sat with Caretaker's jacket wrapped around their shoulders. Their eyes followed Caretaker, who paced around the room, snapping from left to right.

They were about to bring whumper in. The interrogation room was set and whumpee was placed somewhere they weren't going to have to see it.

"Caretaker..." Whumpee softly called to them. Caretaker abruptly stopped pacing and glanced at them. Whumpee could see their face lightly sweating and their hand itching to tremble.

"You're going to stay here with me, right? You're not going to leave?" Whumpee asked.

Caretaker gave them a reassuring smile and knelt by their side.

"Of course. Yes, of course I am. I'm just... So angry." Caretaker's tone morphed. "Whumper's going to be in this very building and it makes my blood boil." They hissed. They quieted their tone down and gently took whumpee's hands.

"They won't ever hurt you again. No one will. I promise."

Before whumpee could even respond, commotion erupted the halls. Caretaker jumped and put themselves between Whumpee and the door.

"They're here... Aren't they?" Whumpee nervously stuttered.

"Don't worry about them. They're being taken straight to interrogation." Caretaker stared through the small window at the door.

Suddenly, one voice was more vocal than the rest of the commotion.

Whumper's voice.

Threats. Insults. Curses.

Whumpee's name.

Their name wasn't screamed like the rest of their words. Whumper called for them lovingly. "I know you're here, sweetheart. Come see me. We all know you want to."

Whumpee shivered and hunched, covering their ears. "Keep it together" they thought to themselves, as tears bursted down their blank expression. They sniffed and wiped their face, looking up at caretaker for assurance-

-But they weren't there.

The door swayed as someone had just gone through as a flash of movement flickered by the window.

Suddenly, the commotion re-exploded. Whumper's voice was drowned as shouting and fighting seemed to commence. Whumpee tensed and clutched the jacket tighter.

"Caretaker?" Whumpee called, scared to be heard.

Should they go after them? What if someone got hurt? What if caretaker got hurt? Whumpee slowly rose to their feet and walked towards the door; the commotion getting louder. They reached for the door, but before they could open it, it slowly opened for them as caretaker walked right back in.

They had no more trembling, no more worry. Their face was peaceful and calm, yet splattered with a nauseating amount of blood.

Whumpee retracted their hand- "Wh-what just happened?! Are you hurt?! Caretaker is that blood-"

"It's okay." Caretaker said in the calmest voice whumpee has ever heard. "Everything is fine. It's more then fine." Caretaker smiled and cupped whumpee's face.

"I told you; they will never, ever hurt you again."

"I made sure of it."

[whumpsday]

Kane & Jim #56: Else

Chronological masterlist / Writing order masterlist

content: recovery and lots of it, angst, sickfic, accidental emotional whump, fear of starvation, vampire whumpee, whumper turned whumpee (turned caretaker), reunions

Whumpmas in July Day 18: "Or else"

i'm sorry for being so slow with k&j chapters! i'm going to try to be quicker with them in the future. here's one people have been waiting for for a very long time!

-

“You’re sick.”

Jim blinked, taken aback. “What?”

“You’re sick,” Kane repeated, taking another sip from the bowl. One of his last bowls before he was to start finding his own elsewhere. “I can taste it.”

“What? What kind of sick? Is it serious?” Jim asked with increasing urgency. Kane could see it in his eyes: he knew fear, and he hated to see it in Jim.

He wanted more than anything to reassure him, but he couldn’t lie. “I-I don’t know?” he admitted. “I don’t know much of human illnesses. You seem… fine?”

“Shit. Shit shit shit.” Jim grabbed his coat. “I’ll be back soon. I gotta… go to the doctor, or something. Door,” he warned.

“I’m sorry. I’m sure you’ll be okay! You can’t even feel it! You’re a healthy young man!” Kane assured him, ducking into the kitchen.

“Thanks for warning me!” Jim’s voice was laden with nerves. A flash of sunlight made Kane shiver, and he only returned to the living room when it was gone.

Kane knew what this meant: Jim would likely not finish out the week. This was his last meal given. He would have to go to vampire territory tonight, or else he would have nothing to eat come tomorrow. He had to find blood tonight, or else he’d starve. He’d go back to that horrible, empty state, always wanting, always in pain.

He knew Jim wouldn’t really let that happen, but it wasn’t fair to rely on him for blood forever, either. Kane had taken enough, with and without permission. It was Jim’s turn to rest.

Still, the fear of hunger never left him. It was a part of him now, permanently, no matter how much he fed.

And this meant one thing. The thing he’d been putting off and dreading since Jim set him free.

He would have to go to vampire territory and talk to his parents. He knew already that it would not go over well. Father would be either furious or crushingly disappointed that he’d allowed himself to be humiliated by humans, and he wasn’t sure which was worse. Mother would undoubtedly be the latter. He wondered, not for the first time, if they preferred him ‘dead’.

It shouldn’t matter. He knew now that they weren’t… good people. He could see that. He had a new family of sorts, now that Jim had taken him in.

But Jim wasn’t his legal next of kin, and Jim wasn’t the one he had to ask if he wanted his money returned so he could buy blood.

He could always get a job. But it seemed ridiculous to do when he had money sitting right there, and he would likely be found by his parents at some point anyway. There was no avoiding it forever.

Kane drank the bowl down quickly.

-

It was a flu, apparently. Nothing life-threatening, but it set Jim’s anxieties alight. His parents had died of illness, he explained.

While Kane had managed to catch it early, Jim started to devolve within a few hours of arriving home.

Kane knocked on his bedroom door. “Jim? Can I come in?”

“Ugh. Yeah,” he agreed.

Carefully balancing the tray, he entered. He found Jim curled up in bed, looking miserable.

“I’ve brought you lunch.” He’d been practicing his human food skills. He was still quite afraid of the stove, so though he used it when feeling especially brave, he mainly stuck to things that didn’t require cooking. He’d written down several combinations of foods that humans found appetizing, which could often be served in between slices of bread as a ‘sandwich’.

But he needed a tray instead of a plate, because despite his strength, he simply didn’t have enough hands to carry the six cups of water circled around it.

“Lotta water,” Jim noted weakly, grabbing a glass and taking a sip when Kane brought it close. His hand shook, the liquid threatening to spill. Kane watched it close, ready to steady it in a heartbeat if Jim needed him to.

He spoke gently, like he was worried speaking too loud would break Jim in his fragile state. “...Like I’d mentioned, I don’t know much about human illness. Most of what I know comes from you. I just remember… you wanted a lot of water, last time.”

He thought about that time a lot. How he was so close to losing Jim, because he was too proud to listen.

“Ah. Yeah.” Jim wouldn’t look him in the eye. “I remember.”

Kane set the tray down. “I should have taken better care of you,” he whispered. “I’m sorry. I mean–I shouldn’t have had you in the first place, but I did, and you were my responsibility, and I didn’t care for you like I should have.” A hint of tears in his eyes, he took Jim’s unusually-sweaty hand. “I’ll do better this time. Anything you need, I’ll be there.”

That earned a small smile from Jim. “Guess it isn’t so bad being waited on. ‘Specially because you can’t get sick, right?” The smile faded. “…Right?”

“I can’t,” Kane assured him. “You don’t need to worry. Just rest, and I’ll take care of anything you need.”

Jim huffed an almost-laugh. “You really changed, man.”

-

Liz did come over to visit come nightfall, which was good, since despite his promises, Kane had to leave. He didn’t like the thought of leaving Jim alone at night. He knew it made him scared, and Jim deserved to never feel afraid ever again. She brought a container of soup, a yellow liquid with colorful plants and large white orbs floating in it.

He waited, patient, until Liz emerged from Jim’s room. “Liz?”

“Hey. Thanks for looking after him,” Liz said.

“Of course!” The praise spread warmly through him. “There’s, um, something I wanted to talk to you about, if you have the time? Advice, I suppose.”

“Shoot,” she encouraged, flopping over on the couch.

Kane took a deep breath. “So, um, I assume now is a good time to start getting my own blood.”

“Yyyyeah.” Liz shot a glance to the stairs leading to Jim’s room. “I’d say that’s about right.”

“Blood… isn’t free. I have the money–had the money, but I’ve likely been assumed dead for many years. I’ll need to go to my parents to get it back,” he explained. “My parents are not kind people, I’ve come to realize.”

Liz raised an eyebrow, but politely refrained from making any comments about his former obliviousness. “You think they won’t give it back? Isn’t there, like, laws? This can’t be the first time this has happened with vampires, you guys are too good at not dying.”

“No! No, that’s not it, they’d give it back. It’s just, um, they’ll be… quite upset with me, I think. Especially my father.” He sighed. “I didn’t want to talk about it with Jim. I was worried he would feel pressured into giving me more blood than he’s comfortable with. I don’t know. It shouldn’t be as big a deal as it is. I’ve been through so much worse, I don’t understand why this is so terrifying. I suppose I’ve just never failed this badly before.”

“Hey, you made it out of five years with those monsters, alive. Bet there’s not a lot of vampires who could say that,” Liz pointed out.

“Ah, that’s just… not how Father would see it,” Kane said vaguely. Humans were supposed to be the weak ones. The fact that it took him five years to be freed, and he couldn’t even do it himself, would make him an utter embarrassment in their eyes.

And it was all because he couldn’t use persuasion. Everything they’d always believed about him, proven true.

Liz pursed her lips, lost in thought for a moment. “I don’t remember my parents that well,” she admitted. “I know yours suck pretty bad. I don’t think you have to admit more than you need to, right? Like, do they even need to know where you’ve really been? You could just make something up, for the sake of keeping the peace.”

“Make something up…” Kane murmured. He shook his head. “I’m not a very good liar. They’d see right through me. It’s fine, actually, the more I talk about it, the more I realize I’m being a bit ridiculous.” He forced a laugh. “It’s one uncomfortable conversation and then I can come back home.”

“You’ve got this.” Liz patted him lightly on the back, a modification from her usual clap she’d learned tended to scare him. “You’re tough.”

Kane certainly didn’t feel ‘tough’.

“Thank you. It was nice to at least… get it out of my system. Oh, and congratulations. Jim told me about you and Laken.”

Liz smiled. “After what happened, I just knew I had to say something, you know? If they could just be taken from me at any moment. Stuff happens. People die. I didn’t want something to happen to one of us before I could tell them how I feel.”

She stood. “I can give you one more night’s worth, maybe two. If you need some time to think about it and all.”

Kane startled. He and Liz had grown far more amicable over the past months, but he hadn’t expected this from her.

Maybe he should have. It wasn’t the first time. He thought of Jim, on that first night, vehemently denying Liz’s offer to provide blood, vowing to do it himself.

“...Thank you. That means so, so much to me. It’s alright, though. I’ll go tonight,” he decided.

“Good luck. We’ll be here when you get back,” she promised.

And that was all he really needed, in the end.

Kane got up, heading to the door with a quick glance back to make sure it was alright. For the freedom he’d earned, he hadn’t gone more than ten feet from the house since he’d returned with Laken. But of course, Liz made no move to stop him. “I’ll see you soon.”

-

The night was as beautiful as ever, even in the cool autumn air. He liked it better this way, in fact. It made it more comfortable to wear more clothing, the long pants and long sleeves and jacket he liked, especially when he ran. When he went this fast, he hardly felt the cold, and his mind was occupied elsewhere.

What if his parents made demands of him in exchange for their help? What if they expected him to return to vampire territory, to isolate himself out of the way in a socially-acceptable manner? Now that he’d tasted true companionship, he almost couldn’t bear to give it up. And what about Jim? Ever since Laken’s abduction, he’d been more scared at night. The very least Kane owed him was his protection.

His petty worries disappeared the instant he realized he could hear a vehicle coming closer.

Kane ran faster, opposite the sound. He’d likely been pushing fifty miles an hour before, and could make sixty if he tried–but he was out of practice, and the vehicle was faster.

A glance behind him showed moonlight glinting off a silver crossbow.

“I have permission!” he wailed as the off-roader gained, heart threatening to burst from his chest. This couldn’t happen, not again, no. Jim and Liz wouldn’t even think to look for him until a day had passed, a day that could easily be spent baking in the hot sun. “Liz Lieberman granted me permission to cross! Please, I didn’t do anything! Mercy!”

“Kane?” an unfamiliar voice called. The vehicle caught up to him, but there was no attack. “Oh shit, it’s you!” the driver said. “It’s so dark, I almost didn’t recognize you from the picture Laken showed us. Thanks for bringing ‘em back.”

Kane slowed, just a bit. “What?” he squeaked, tears streaming down his face.

The hunter in the passenger seat elbowed his partner, making quick movements with his hands that Kane could not understand. A signed language of some sort, he assumed. Though he didn’t know much about such things, other than that spoken orders under persuasion often didn’t work on humans who utilized it.

“Uh, my partner wants to know if you’re good? Like, you’re alright?” The driver asked. “Did we scare you? Sorry. Just, uh, you know, gotta be quick with the other guys. One second wasted and you miss ‘em, and that’s someone’s whole life, y’know.”

“Oh. Um, yes, you’d–you’d frightened me. I’m sorry.” Kane wasn’t quite sure what he was apologizing for. “Am I… free to go, sirs?”

“Yeah! Yeah, you can go… sir? Shoot, don’t let us keep you,” the hunter assured.

The one in the passenger seat made more hand-signs, waving him goodbye after. “Nice to meet you!” the other translated, finally driving away.

Kane picked up speed again and didn’t stop until he was sure he’d left the border far behind. He collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath.

He was so close to going back to the pain. If they hadn’t recognized him, he would have been skewered with silver–likely soon killed, not tortured, given they were from Liz’s guild, but still, he would have died in pain. No matter how hard he breathed, he felt like he couldn’t get enough air, and he wasn’t sure if it was that he’d been sprinting for too long or the sheer horror.

He wanted Jim. He wanted Jim to hold him and tell him everything was alright, that he was safe, that no one was going to hurt him. But Jim was miles and miles away, and could not help him here.

And he couldn’t cry on the ground forever. He was burning moonlight, and he needed blood.

Kane forced himself to his feet and wrapped his arms around him. If he squeezed his eyes tight, he could pretend he wasn’t alone, for just a moment.

After a minute like that, he started running once more.

-

By the time Kane reached his parents’ estate, he’d mostly calmed down. It was hard to feel as though hunters would ambush him out of nowhere when he went deep enough into vampire territory to see buildings and people. Any hunter here would be apprehended in seconds.

He touched the gate, brass-coated, though he knew there was silver underneath. There seemed to be some sort of electronic device attached to it, a new addition since his last visit, but he wasn’t sure how to use it. He could climb it, or simply shout, and one of the staff would likely hear him. If he wanted to be extra polite, which he did, he could simply stand here until someone came or went and ask to be let in.

And then that would be it. Kane would be standing face-to-face with his parents. He would accept Father’s ire without complaint. He’d had worse, he reminded himself, even when it came to the comparable. The hunters had spit on him while calling him worthless, ground his face into the floor while forcing him to decry himself as beneath them. It had been so much worse.

His hand shook against the gate.

You’ve really changed, man.

Had he? If he was still back here, ready to take whatever judgments his parents threw at him, debase himself and eagerly beg for their forgiveness, had he really changed? There were humans in there. Captive, hurt humans who he could never in a thousand years be able to free if he tried, locked away in their quarters. What happened to all his regrets? His vows that he would never associate with anything of the sort again?

What would he have done differently here before, if he’d realized back then everything he knew now?

Kane left.

-

It took him a bit to find it, he hadn’t been to this town before, but it wasn’t far, and he knew the address.

There was a different kind of dread this time. If he was rejected here, it might be even worse than his parents. But as he rang the doorbell, he knew this was what he had to do.

The man who answered looked almost exactly the same as the last time he’d seen him, thirteen years ago. The same dark skin, perfect hair, typically garishly-colorful shirt.

Bellamy’s eyes went impossibly wide, as though he’d seen a ghost.

“Kane?”

taglist in reblogs, chapter 57 coming july 30th :)

edit: sorry i was wrong about july 30th. it's coming thoooo i promise

@whumpmasinjuly

[whumperofworlds]

A former living weapon whumpee who has a better life after leaving whumper. They're a normal person now, and they're happy with their team. They also decide not to use their powers anymore, to avoid any harm.

Then... whumper came back and whumps their team--their found family.

Living weapon whumpee's eyes darkened, before growling "You'll see why everyone feared me," and used their powers they swore not to use against whumper to protect their family.

[defire]

What if a group of fucked up, sadistic "heroes" took both a whumper and the whumper's Whumpee into their custody? Either knowingly (victim blaming) or unknowingly?

Imagine the Whumpee being put in the same cell as their (old?) whumper,

Is the whumper afraid of what the "heroes" will do to them? Or do they mock the Whumpee still?

Do they try to whump the Whumpee even in their current situation?

The possibilities!

Everybody's asks have me so excited, thank you!

Whumper gets imprisoned with whumpee!

Content: begging, imprisonment, surveillance, sadistic whumpers, whumper turned whumpee, whumpee turned (reluctant) caretaker, beatings, creepy whumper, whumpee turned whumper

"Not together--wait! Don't leave us together, please!" Whumpee screaming after their captors as they leave.

As soon as the doors close whumper immediately takes whumpee by the collar, slamming them into the wall, "what did you fucking tell them?!"

"well isn't this nice... Just the two of us."

Whumpee backing to the corner of the cell and taking exactly the space in which they sit, leaving the rest of the space for whumper to claim.

Whumper thrown back in the cell after "interrogation", bruised and exhausted, slumping down against the far wall with a grunt of pain. "How does it feel?" Whumpee asks. Whumper just groans a "fuck you."

Whumper scooting closer and closer to whumpee, making whumpee extremely uncomfortable... Especially when they glance at whumper and see a hopeful smile on their face.

"Whumpee, whumpee... You know these guys right? So, how do you get on their good side?"

Whumpee torn between making friends with their only cellmate and getting revenge on whumper, snapping angrily at them while they roughly tend their wounds.

Whumper laughing at whumpee's confusion and egging them on. "Come on, you know you love me."

Whumpee coming back in from being interrogated and slumping down. Whumper smirks at them and whumpee, no longer afraid of them, sighs and buries their head in their arms. "I'm not in the mood."

Whumper silently (annoyed) taking care of whumpee because they need a cellmate to torment.

Whumpee sullenly letting them without looking at whumper.

Whumpee screaming "don't you fucking touch me!"

Whumper's once-frightening flaws now look pathetic in this context. Pushiness becomes begging, "sadist" becomes "creep", pride becomes anxiety. It was always there but whumpee feels stupid for not recognizing it before.

"I can't take it, please, I just want it to stop," whumper is the one in pain now. "Please, whumpee, get them to help me." Whumpee glares sideways at them, delivering one of whumper's own answers back at them. "Tough it out; it's not that bad."

Whumper trying to steal whumpee's blanket and they get into a full-out brawl until whumpee realizes they're beating the crap out of whumper and almost enjoying it. They stop themselves and grab their blanket, and yank away whumper's blanket as well for good measure, stalking back to their corner and huddling up under them.

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Imagine a spoiled royal, heir to the throne, part of a powerful bloodline that gives them "divine right to rule". They're raised to be cruel, and told their heritage puts them above everyone else.

And then one day, it's revealed before the entire court that it's all a lie. The royal was switched at birth with the child of a servant. The real heir has been serving in the palace all this time, unaware of their birthright. Maybe they're even someone the faux-royal had been particularly cruel to all their lives.

The ruling family is quick to push out the false heir---blood is more important to them than any illusion of family---and welcome the servant with open arms.

Maybe the false heir is banished from the kingdom they were raised to rule. Maybe they're imprisoned so the truth can never come out. Maybe they're made a servant, now at the beck and call of someone they'd thought beneath them.

Does the true heir take pity on them, or do they seek vengeance from years of abuse? Does the royal family have any regrets, or have they always been cold, only concerned with holding power? What do the servants and commoners do, now that the arrogant "heir" has lost all power and protection?

[whump-place]

Whumper tried anything to get on Caretaker's good side.

They promised to be better, to never hurt Whumpee or anyone again, and still Caretaker doesn't believe them.

Whumper knows that what they did was wrong, and wants to be better, to maybe have another chance to prove they can be good. But Caretaker doesn't even let them.

Whumper has to do anything Caretaker says, obey every order and behave, and that's not hard. Whumper can do that.

But soon, those simple orders like "don't raise your voice", "no fighting"; turn into "don't speak unless spoken to", "have you really earned today's meal?", "there's someone I don't like, take care of them". And Whumper wants to believe that's just so they can be good, but it isn't.

No matter how much they try, Caretaker's orders start to get to a whole new level. They can't even stop hurting people, because that's what Caretaker wants, and everything seems to be getting worse.

"Don't tell me you are feeling sad?"

"Stop crying. You didn't cry when Whumpee was hurt."

"Get up and do what I say. Don't you wanna be better?"

They do. They want to be better so bad.