#a little whumpy

[aggressivelyaverage21]

Response to this poll

So, because I have been bored at home... I decided to treat this as a prompt. So... here it is:

Forced to watch someone else being tortured.  

Beatrice had been smacked around herself and was in bad shape, but it stopped. 

Ava... not for Ava though. Ava has the halo. The halo heals her. 

But. 

That just means they can drag it out. Over and over they can keep hurting Ava as Beatrice watches. 

Ava’s crying. 

Screaming in pain. 

She told Beatrice once, her body's healing was sometimes worse than the injury itself. 

So Ava was being worked over big time. 

But in between bouts of torture, she would make eye contact with Beatrice. Pleading for Beatrice to be strong. And Beatrice, ever the good soldier, didn’t say a word. 

God she wanted to so badly. 

But she didn’t. She couldn’t. 

It was a conversation her and Ava had long ago. About this specific situation, because it had always been a posibility, and the decision had been made already. 

No one would talk. 

No matter what. 

No matter how much it hurt or what was happening. No one would compromise the OCS or the mission. 

It was so much easier said than actually done, but Beatrice stood there watching. Tears rolling down her cheeks as she watched them torture Ava only for minutes to pass and the only sign of it to be the blood staining her torn clothing. 

That was the hard part after they got out of the situation. 

Dealing with it. With no actual proof it happened. 

There weren't any wounds for Beatrice to tend to. 

There wasn’t a need for Ava to spend any time resting in a bed as she healed. 

There was only them, Beatrice’s injuries that only equated to several bruised ribs, a black eye, and a split lip. And somehow it was Ava left comforting her as Beatrice struggled with all the guilt which somehow only made Beatrice feel worse.

2. Forced to participate in someone else’s torture. 

It was a “do this or we will kill this innocent person” situation. 

Ava and Beatrice had found themselves in quite the pickle that way. 

A gun at a child’s head. 

Beatrice instructed to beat Ava with her bare fists. 

Ava begged her to comply with the demand because– ultimately– she would be fine. She had every faith they would be found in time before everything escalated. 

Bea just had to buy them some… unfortunately, by hitting her. 

It wasn't like Beatrice hadn't hit her before- Ava tried to joke, but it fell woefully short.

Beatrice didn’t hit hard the first time after Ava gave her permission. Then there was was a shot fired. 

A warning. 

Beatrice did it again feeling Ava’s cheek hard against her knuckles. It hurt her too, honestly probably more than it hurt Ava. She pushed back, hesitated as much as she could each time she was prompted to strike but it was a child. There wasn’t an option. And Ava was there. Whispering “it’s okay Bea” “I’m okay” the whole time and it broke Beatrice. 

Well and truly.

3. Being tortured in front of others. (Not captives) 

The FBC was all about putting on a show. And the main event just so happened to be Beatrice. 

She was getting the ever living shit beat out of her.

But… she’s been trained for this. And really it wasn’t so hard. 

She’d been doing it for her entire adult life, before that even. All she had to do was stick to the training. Stick to making the torture counter productive. Stick to the techniques. 

It hurt. It was painful. Beatrice knew her right hand was never going to be the same and she likely wouldn’t ever fully heal from the way they had surly demolished every ligament in her left knee. But she could do this. 

Except now. 

Now they had started cutting her. 

The end was almost near. The second that started happening, when the possibility for infection, and other biological complications, was opened they weren’t planning on keeping you around long enough to really need to worry about any of that. 

So Beatrice took it. Like the good soldier, she was praying that Ava wasn’t the first one to find her when this was over.

4. Being tortured in front of others captives. 

It started with Beatrce being dragged into a room. 

Her toes dragging against concrete behind her, she could see out of the bottom of the hood but only just barely. Her weight was held between two men by her shoulders that ached from being in a stress position for the last several hours. 

There was a muffled yelling. 

The loud, horrible, sound of a metal chair scraping against concrete as whoever was sitting in it tried to move. 

The rattling of a chain. As her hands were suspended over her head.

The sharp cold of metal on her wrists as the handcuffs were tightened. 

Beatrice had wits about her enough to squeeze her fists and push her arms into the opening as much as she could, trying to keep the cuffs as loose as she could to maybe give her a chance to get out of them later. 

She wasn’t having much success with it but she had to try. 

She was hooked up. Tension held her arms over her head. Her weight was hardly able to be supported by the balls of her feet. 

Thrashing and trying to kick and fight was no use. It wasn’t making her situation any easier. The protests of the mufflered yells and the chair on the concrete were only getting louder as her situation got worse. 

Cold air hit her face as the hood was rapidly removed. It was rather disorienting. To suddenly be in a very bright room. Very clean and industrial. A drain under her feet didn’t exactly bode well for her. 

Her hair was pulled annoyingly out with the hood, falling into her face though that was the least of her worries. 

Beatrice found the strength to lift her head from where it was hanging. 

She found Ava’s wild eyes. Her hair was a mess too. There was a piece of cloth tied into her mouth. She was strapped down with glowing blue handcuffs to a chair that looked like divinium was placed at stretegic points to prevent Ava from phasing through it. 

Beatrice’s back arched away from freezing water– she hadn’t even heard sputter to life– from a hose hit her back. It soaked over her clothes. Her hair.

She was shivering so hard the chain supporting the majority of her weight was rattling. 

She felt a slight static mere milliseconds before electricity arched through her body. Rattling her teeth and lighting every last one of her nerves on fire from the place the baton came into contact with her side. 

Beatrice never considered herself to be particularly vocal. But she couldn't help but scream at the surprise. 

When it stopped she panted, looking up at Ava to hold eye contact. 

They hadn’t asked her for anything yet. And she was still gagged though that didn’t stop her struggle to get to Beatrice. Tears were streaming down her face as she fought to get free. 

They hit Beatrice again and again. The more Ava struggled the harder they hit beatrice. And each time Beatrice, wasn’t so much capable of speech - her jaw far too swollen for that even if she had the energy to try - but she tried to look at Ava. 

Comfort her as much as she could. 

Yell at her with something in her eyes that she was okay. 

That whatever they wanted Ava couldn’t give into it. 

And each time Beatrice saw Ava’s apology. 

Saw Ava trying to comfort her back. 

But more than that she saw Ava breaking. She saw her furry building. 

The desperation there. 

The pain. 

When the gag was slipped over her chin, a string of drool going with it. Ava was yelling. “You mother fucker. I will kill you for this.” 

Beatrice knew it was coming. She didn’t have to see to know. But a fist collided heavy against her soaked torso with a sickening sound that left Beatrice sputtering, struggling to breathe but at least she was somewhat used to how it felt to be hit. 

It was better then the electricity though not much. “Stop.” Ava pleaded. “What do you want.” 

“Ava you can’t —“ Beatrice breathed, shaking her head knowing she’d also just earned herself the baseball bat they just took to her femur just above her knee. She’d be needing surgery for that one most likely… assuming they got out of this. 

And so it continued. Ava being somewhat antagonistic, it was just in her nature, unfortunately enough for Beatrice. 

They went to town on Beatrice not really asking for anything specific. Locations of safe houses. Bases. Divinium stores. They were fishing with no real goal it seemed. 

They left them. Ava straining against the chair to get to Beatrice. “Bea… Bea talk to me” her voice broke over the nickname Beatrice shook her head sagging against the chains.

Her arms were numb and burning at the same time. The lack of blood flow to her hands had rendered them asleep long ago. But still the cuffs bit into her wrists. “Don’t”… “give”… “them” … “anything” 

“Bea.” 

“No.” She panted “noth-ing. Pro—mice.” 

Ava was shaking her head rapidly as tears streamed down her face but Beatrice was right. The only way this stopped, Beatrice’s only chance was for them to decide that this wasn’t productive.

And the only way that happened is if Ava didn’t break. 

Beatrice would suffer it. As fucked up as it was, Ava wasn’t going to insult Beatrice by thinking she couldn’t. She trusted her. And she knew that Beatrice would sooner die than be used to hurt her order, and she also knew that Beatrice would never forgive her if Ava broke for her. 

The dishonor she’d feel because of something not her choice. 

So Ava would let her choose, as much as it was breaking her, she wouldn’t remove that agency from Beatrice. 

Beatrice, bless her, visibly relaxed when Ava reassured her that she would go with what Beatrice wanted. But she also made sure Beatrice knew how much she hated what was happening.

They heard people in the hall approaching for round two and Beatrice looked at Ava forcing eye contact “Look at me Bea” Ava found her resolve for them both. “Just look right at me. I’m here.” 

Beatrice wanted to laugh. If she had the lungs to say anything that was exactly what she would have said to her love. 

At least they were on the same page… And she held Ava’s eye contact with each new pain they brought to her until she lost consciousness.

[eightcure]

Some Danny phantom sketches for the void

[save-the-villainous-cat]

The hero let out a wet groan, pushing themselves up as the blood ran down their side. It was in itself a funny feeling.

It was a good feeling.

Absolutely no one in this rotten city was able to challenge them. Physically, they were stronger. Mentally, they were quicker. And their dedication, their devotion was like a holy prayer that guided them through their nights.

The hero knew it wasn't a good thing - the longing for a challenge, the desire for an opponent that could actually make them a better fighter. It was a dangerous wish and they had to remind themselves regularly why they were doing this job in the first place.

To do good. To be good. Not to find someone who was their very own nemesis.

However, with the villain's boot on their ribs and that brutal nature of theirs, the hero was struggling not to find this utterly satisactory.

"Yeah, right there," the hero wheezed. "Make me scream."

The villain tilted their head and tutted, nearly bored of the hero's games. They let out a sigh and grabbed the hero's hair, yanking them up.

Another wheeze.

And the villain crouched, holding the hero by their hair. Very close. Very intimate.

"Do you think I am stupid?" the villain asked. Their lips brushed the hero's ear and despite the pain, or maybe because of it, the hero could only concentrate on the adrenaline rushing through their body.

"No," the hero said. They had to grin. Sometimes, they wished they could devour the villain, that they could change them and ultimately, that they could control them.

The hero knew it wasn't right. They knew it wasn't good. But they had never felt this kind of obsession towards anyone. In previous relationships, they hadn't gotten jealous, they hadn't gotten angry. They had never struggled like this. They had never doubted themselves like this.

"I know your dirty little secret," the villain said. "I know you like me. You like this."

"I didn't try to hide it," the hero said.

"Not from me. But the public."

"What are you trying to...?"

"Oh, poor hero," the villain murmed. "See, the difference between you and me is, that I do not care about you. If this gets to one, just one flimsy reporter, the people will turn against you. I can ruin your entire career. Your entire life."

The hero had miscalculated. Obviously, they hadn't expected their nemesis to feel the same. But they also hadn't expected them to tell the public. To use the public against the hero. It was a little shameless. But the hero was even more disgusted by their admiration for it.

"So?" the hero asked. Losing the public was a detrimental loss, that much was clear. But was it even measurable next to the fights with the villain? Did it even matter? When the hero could feel this euphoric? This alive? When had the public ever made them feel that way? "I would still have you."

"I do not love you," the villain argued. "You're not as important to me as you think."

"Give it some time," the hero said. "You will love me, don't worry. Everyone does."

The villain simply laughed at that. It was nearly soft. Or maybe the hero wanted it to be. It didn't matter.

"I have to admit, I am quite interested in what you have in store for me. How will you act once the public calls you a traitor? What will you do when I refuse to fight you? You are-" with their index finger, the villain traced the hero's thoat "-so very unique."

"Is that attraction?"

"Obligatory interest."

"And you say you're not in love."

They stared at each other until, finally, the villain dropped them. They cleared their throat and tilted their head. But the hero swallowed blood when their head nearly smashed against the concrete floor.

"I like toying with you, that is all."

"Sure," the hero said. They clutched their heart, tried to breathe. Being close to the villain was a gift, no matter how much it hurt. The hero loved it, loved their words, loved their personality, loved the challenge. It was insane, the hero felt completely deranged. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

And the hero was excited. So very excited for the next weeks.

[befuddled-calico-whump]

There's a reason there's no cameras in the interrogation room.

[thewarriorandthethief]

elijah mikaelson has done so much for horny bitches everywhere

[pixelatedraindrops]

Yuma Month: Day 24: Mirror

A mysterious and fateful first encounter…?

[skyward-floored]

Trying sooooo hard to finish this IAU fic ACK it’s been almost done for what feels like forever and I just haven’t managed to end it 😡

[maybeitsalivescribbles]

VH - Divide And Conquer

(Tw: attempted torture)

“I can't believe we finally have caught the legendary Vampire Hero”, said Villain.

The two Heroes glanced at each other and shrugged. The taller one frowned.

“Legendary ?” he repeated.

Villain looked at him with interest.

“Oh yes,” he said. “Many have fallen before your might, Vampire Hero. At least two or three of my opponents are behind the bars because of you.”

“Two or three and you call that legendary ? You're easy to impress.”

The other Hero was nervously following the exchange. Compared to his companion, he seemed much younger and frailer. His eyes were shinier and shinier with tears that did not quite fall. When at least it looked like he couldn't take it anymore, he stepped between the two, saying:

“Stop ! It's my fault ! It's all my fault if we got caught. Hurt me, not him!”

Villain gave the young Hero an amused look:

“Why is that little thing with you, Vampire Hero ?”

His interlocutor shrugged:

“You know. He's new. I'm supposed to show him the ropes or something. You have to teach them some way or some other. ”

“Is that so.”

Villain lift the smaller Hero's chin with a finger:

“My dear little one, how can I hurt him ? Many have tried and many have failed. I'll just make him have a nice little sunbath so he's neutralized. But since you've asked so nicely, I will take care of you.”

“Surely there must be another way ! I'm sure you can do better. I-I'm sure that deep inside, you're a little pure of heart.”

“ You heard your protector, you need to learn.”

He grabbed Hero by the arm, who turned his head toward the man who accompanied him. The latter just shrugged.

“Do you think he cares ?” simpered Villain to his ear. “Oh, he doesn't. He might be on your side, but Vampire Hero is evil. You're better off with me.”

Hero whimpered but didn't resist as he was dragged into the stairs.

“There are seventeen steps. Do you hear the sound they make ? There's an echo, so the prisoners down there can hear me coming. It’s all in the anticipation.”

In a sweet voice, he kept describing their surroundings while they were both descending into his torture room. During all the way, the small one didn’t dare fight back. He soon found himself tied up to a chair, helplessly squirming, his eyes giving a pleading look more than ever.

“So, young Hero,” purred Villain, “as it is your first time, I will make you a favor.”

“R-Really ?”

“Yes. Do you see all these instruments in the shelf in front of you ?”

Hero looked at the whips, the canes and the nails, and shuddered so violently it almost looked fake.

“I'm going to let you choose one among them. If not, I will choose, and you won't like it very much if I do.”

“You don't have to do this ! I-You just will make Vampire Hero angry and you don't want to !”

“You think he will rescue you?”

“I know he will.”

“How touching. But for now you're mine. So make your choice, before I get impatient.”

Hero pondered for a few seconds, then whispered:

“Um – the taser ? Yes – the taser, please.”

“If you ask so nicely.”

Villain delicately took the black rectangular shape in his hand and switched it on.

“Why, if I might ask ? Do you think it will hurt less than the others ? Let me prove you wrong.”

The half-hour that happened then looked much more pleasant for Villain than for Hero. And yet, as time passed, Villain felt somewhat uneasy. That had nothing to do with torturing a man, of course. He liked the thrashing, he liked the begging, he liked the naive faith of the innocent who was certain that he could be saved. Maybe that had something to do with the other Hero. While Villain was amusing himself, Vampire Hero was out of his sight. He might have been careless. He glanced at his watch, but Hero making a rather unconvincing whimper forced him to turn his head.

Perhaps that was the problem. Villain was used to the sounds of pain – the gasps, the moans, the howls, the cries and the pleas. He loved all of them without distinction, and of course he knew that they were a little different with each person. It was a familiar melody that Hero was singing, but thinking about it, it was slightly out of tune, and it got progressively worse. It was getting on his nerves. These rookies these days – they didn't even now how to scream right.

“Let's have a break,” he said.

“Oh well, I guess I’ve held that long.”

Villain raised an eyebrow, amused:

“Getting defiant, are we ? Careful, you sound like you’re disappointed.”

He stared into his prisoner’s eyes, hoping to get a look of terror, but all he got was a frown. Hero...genuinely looked displeased.

“Sorta”, he said. “In my time I didn’t have this kind of toys to play with. I guess having a little blue spark in your hand looks fun, but that doesn’t look like it does that much damage.”

“In your time ? What are you talking ab- wait.”

Hero tilted his head. For a moment he sounded impassible, but he broke soon enough. A loud, loud laugh resonated in the room, while the prisoner was squirming in his chair for a very different reason than before. His way of moving betrayed no pain at all.

“Are you shitting me,” said Villain, whose voice was now icy.

Hero grinned:

“You tell me, pal. I can’t believe you swallowed my “pure of heart” bullshit. I was laying it on so thick.”

Villain glared at him.

“Not that you were especially subtle either”, Hero added. “Oooh, the anticipation !” Do that again?”

Villain stood up and went to the door as fast as self-respect allowed. There was no one left under the sunlight. The guards were on the ground, unconscious.

“How -”

He turned back. Hero was now standing up, neglectfully throwing away the remnants of the straps that held him a moment before. He dramatically exclaimed, a hand on his heart:

“Oh no, he got away ! My, my. Poor little me. Tell you what, though. If Vampire Hero was so legendary, you should have bothered to know what he looks like. I didn’t mean to pass for someone else, but you’ve so graciously given me the opportunity.”

“It can’t be ! How could the – the other have escaped then ?”

“I hate to break it to you, but they are several heroes with super strength.”

Villain blushed and stayed quiet, his lips pursed. Hero picked up the taser, looked at it with curiosity, and switched it on. With a smile – a very worrying smile - he got closer.

“Hey, I warned you. I told you that Vampire Hero was going to rescue me.”

*

Vampire Hero is a recurring character. His job is to troll current villains. Check the Vampire Hero Masterlist or Tag for more snippets with him.

Or back to Hero x Villain Masterlist.

[dogueteeth-fhr]

29 for the whump prompt? 👀

29. “It’s not your fault. Come here.”

(Remy & Chen, Post-Catastrofiend)

"Where did I go wrong?"

Remy's eyes haven't left the sign since Chen got here ten minutes ago. No flicker from them, no response as Chen asked if he has been seen yet (he knew the answer, but asked anyways). No habitual flinch as Chen moved to sit beside him on the bench, still no response as Chen grimaced at the sticky substance that coated the metal joints of his fingers when he sat down. Chen couldn't tell if it was Remy's or...

Well. Remy can be surprisingly stoic for one so soft and timid. Shirking off damage like it's nothing, fighting on in reckless abandon like a cornered mouse. Maybe that's another reason he doesn't trust Remy.

"... there was nothing you could've done," Chen says, letting his eyes leave the tear in black and bloody teal uniform where he suspects the liquid is leaking from. Letting them stare up at the bright vermillion sign.

In Operation.

It makes his stomach churn. He hates it. Hates staring at it. Hates not knowing if it will black out or turn green. Hates not knowing if it will be Julia carted out of there, worse for wear but patched up, or a corpse.

"Nothing is ever certain when we're sent out against an enemy like that. I'm... sure you did everything you could to protect Ortega."

Does he believe it? He wants to, despite every logical neuron in his brain telling him that maybe he's wrong, maybe he's reading Remy wrong, it's just a trap to make him think that Remy could care. He's not even upset, not even angry, or sad. Just staring, staring, staring, face blank, saying nothing but this, staring at the neon sign.

"Bullshit."

"Excuse m—"

"Bullshit!" Remy barks, and Chen is embarrassed that he's startled, embarrassed that he balks a bit as Remy shoots up. For all the delicate frame and short stature of the vigilante, there's something in his stance that screams danger in Chen's lungs, his fists, his hackles, raising his hair on end. Remy's stormy eyes look mad, the crimson light a halo on ink-black hair. He looks inhuman.

And for a moment, Chen pauses and wonders if he's ever seen Remy angry.

"You're so full of bullshit, Chen," his name is spat in his face as Remy grabs his shirt collar, and not even the glare that usually sends Remy into a submissive hunker can stop his eyes from burning through Chen's soul now. "I've already heard this stupid spiel from Themmy. How I did everything I could. How she's 'going to be okay,' that I can't tear myself up over what I did or didn't do. I know you, you know every little mistake I do, see every little bad decision I make on the field, you've torn me a-fucking-part before, so don't you dare hold back on me now."

He hasn't, hasn't ever seen him angry before, and maybe that's why he finds himself tongue-tied. Brain on mute, memorizing every detail, every wrinkle carved into that alabaster face, curved around bared teeth, framing the gap in the front. How strong those thin hands grasp the cloth of his shirt in a death grip. How those hurricane eyes look, watery, clouded, dripping onto his shirt, hands shaking and mouth shuddering around a barely-swallowed sob.

"I failed. I failed to protect her, and now I'm going to lose her."

Chen is not prepared for this.

"I should have run faster. I should have been smarter. Oh, god, did I ever suggest that we split up?"

Anathema should be here for this, not him.

"Fuck, Chen... I did this to her. I fucked up, and it got to her, spilled her guts open, and oh god, I- they were so warm in my hands, I- fuck, oh god, I killed her. I messed up, I was too late, and I killed her and I'm never going to see her again and I—"

"Shh," Chen whispers, slowly, gently, enough for Remy to bolt if he wanted, to shove him away and disappear, circling his arms around Remy. Pulling him closer as the youngster gasps for breath amidst his sobs, feeling all of his years as Remy curls into him. Like his little sister used to. "It's not your fault. Come here."

He doesn't know how long he stays there. Arms around Remy, holding him close, listening to him sob. Miserable. Unsure if he's helping. Feeling conflicted that he cares enough to want to. Wishing he just knew if Julia is going to be alright. Wishing that stupid red sign would turn green. Wishing he could believe it when he says it's not Remy's fault. Being glad the hospital has built-in dampeners so Remy can't pick that thought up while he's sniffling and cradled in Chen's arms.

He really is the worst person for this.

[s-ephiroth]

i often thought, through all these years, like

"i'll leave this fandom someday"

i've seen people come and go, i've seen people completely delete and vanish and i've tried to mourn the hole they left behind when they went

(tried to, because i'm not good at mourning, i feel... i'm better at coping, at entering survival mode and just pushing through, and hiding the tears for when nobody is looking; i mourn extremely messy and never ending... i mourn any time i title a fic in full lowercase and think of the things icy said back then;

(i mourn when i see pages that will never update again and records of things from years ago — seeing how friends and i were so different back then, less paranoid, perhaps more carefree, less pained by the weight of world; seeing once busy chat rooms fall quiet even though people are still there, seeing people change fandoms... i mourn now even though i'm making a silly pun on a friend's stream chat)

i thought that one day i would be the next one to go, too

because somewhere in this world there are people who can't simply let others enjoy stuff on their corner or people who can't just give you a rejection email like a normal person and have to dodge a block to mock you, there are people out there who can't just say "i dislike this thing" and move on, instead coming up with convoluted excuses for why the thing is bad, while basking in equally messy stuff to what they bash

there are stalkers, there are people who go on your ao3 fic to ask why you blocked them, there are cowards who send people anon hate for months, people who crap comment on bookmarks, bullies who persist for years

there's a lot of bad and i often thought "maybe i'll be the next one to go... but... will someone miss me, when i go?"

the pessimist in me says people would miss me for a while, then forget

maybe eventually someone would be like "where are the prompts for sc/seph weeks?" and i would've been missed for a moment, then forgotten again

surely someone would come up with replacement events, maybe not

it would be okay... perhaps

the world keeps spinning and i'm but a little rock rolling along the river of time, as they say; ultimately, on my own i'm near powerless

i can't fully protect people i admire from their bullies, i can't stop drama bs from happening, i can barely bring myself to be creative quite often because my energy is limited

i can't rewind time and prevent one of my friends from being traumatized for life

surely one day i would be the next one to go; my self-esteem isn't very high, i don't really think of myself as too important

hell i almost died twice before, due to things outside of my control, i think of my own mortality and how fleeting stuff is a lot more than i'm willing to admit

probably someone like me would be the next to go, from fandom i mean, is what i think when i see people stop doing things they loved because others were evil to them

"surely, this time i'll not come back to public with art, it's not like some silly chibis are desired, it's not like my computer is robust enough, i was never given an excuse for why exactly i was rejected from that zine, maybe it was personal bias but maybe just maybe i really should fail, maybe what i do is not enough anyway... maybe if i come back those kinds of people will hunt me down like prey... but hey it's valentine's day, what if i force myself to do something"

it's not like anyone would've cared much, anyway

i could be the next one to go; the remake brought in too many ill intended people and icy was right in leaving, remake changed the climate

but for every single discourse bs that happens, for every no life person who manipulates others, even though there are too many people who have to touch grass

sometimes... sometimes you appreciate a piece of good fan art for 4 years, often going back from time to time to share it with others, looking at it when things feel too hard and the artist comes back to it, redraws it

and you just think "fuck... i need to do something too!!! i've thought of the original so much, i watched from afar for too long, it watered my dying crops over and over and over"

and i do... and i befriend the artist somehow? and there's official material related to the subject matter, and i befriend other people too and fuck, fuck, fuck—

turns out there way more people than i thought into the subject matter too!!! and even more official material coming out after years of just having this one shortish game to go by, the one thing to bring me into the fandom in the first place

and i just think

"i can't leave... i like it here, i hope no one takes this from me, i'll gladly shield people if i have to, i'll throw hands if i have to"

and suddenly, i can't be the next one to go and this post is turning much longer than i expected it to, while i'm bawling my eyes out from being too emotional while watching a stream

and you, reading this, as long as you're an innocent bystander who contributes in some way, even if you just mostly lurk and don't get involved much? you shouldn't go either

the world is a fuck on fire right now, but maybe you make it less so, for someone

maybe you're someone's favorite artist or writer or cosplayer; maybe someone is still waiting on that fic you haven't updated in like 3 years or maybe someone's seeing you go on hiatus and worrying, "will... will i see you again?"

you never know

maybe you'll indeed, move fandoms some day, find another place to lurk in with people you can affectionately call your "favorite losers" or maybe life will get too busy, maybe you need a short break to detox

but while that doesn't happen, please don't go?

please don't go

[rainbowsandwhumperflies]

The Winged Servant drabble

No. 5: SUNBURN Healing Salve | Heatstroke | "If my pain will stretch that far." (Lottery Winners, Burning House)

Some parallel scenes because I love putting my characters in pain. One of these is from when Onyx was 17 (living a happy life) and the other one was when he was 19 (a servant). He remembers one of these events and unfortunately it is not the cute happy one.

masterlist

content warnings: sunburns, idk honestly this is pretty light but let me know if I forgot anything

“Your shoulders look pretty red, Onyx,” Ethan said.

I twisted around, trying uselessly to look at my back. “Really? Again?”

“Did you not use sunscreen? I reminded you to, like, a gazillion times.”

I laughed, giving up and sitting back down. “You reminded me like… twice, maybe. I kept forgetting. Ask Ember if they've got aloe vera.”

“No need, I know where it is.” Ethan left the room, probably digging around in the bathroom. “It might be expired,” he yelled loud enough for me to hear him.

“I don't care, E. It doesn't even hurt that bad, honestly.”

He snorted with disbelief, rubbing some of the gel onto my shoulders. “You really should be more careful about this, sweetheart. You're going to get skin cancer or something.”

“I'll be fine.” I leaned into his touch, closing my eyes. “I'm sorry. I thought my wings would protect my back better.”

“You would think that,” he sighed. “Whatever. Now that we're back from the beach, it's ice cream time. Come on.”

~

“How the fuck did you manage to get a sunburn?” the prince asked. “We were outside for, like, an hour.”

“I'm sorry, Your Highness.” We had been outside for longer than an hour, I thought, and no one had offered me sunscreen. It didn't matter, though. What mattered was that I had gotten burnt.

“I don’t think we have aloe vera.”

That was fine. Medical supplies were a privilege that had to be earned, and I didn’t have the energy to earn any tonight. “I’ll be okay, Your Highness. Thank you for the concern.”

He sighed. “Be more careful next time, Onyx. Injuries affect your productivity.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

~

taglist: @kaleidoscope-of-thoughts @toyybox @rainydaywhump @risk606

[thatsgonnaleaveamark]

~No Mercy for Murphy~

a whumpy music video and compilation of how this guy just constantly gets hurt throughout the entire show (and i love it)

for @whumpadoodle 💙 ty for that amazing song rec (mercy - hurts) which inspired this whole thing

[cuteniarose]

Me: *creates an OC*

Me: *heavily implies OC will meet a bad fate*

OC: *meets bad fate*

Me:

(Alternatively, I may have started it, but @katkastrofa enabled me and now I’m losing my mind)

[befuddled-calico-whump]

when the rest of the crew was captured, Jericho dropped everything to go after them. He managed to find Joy and Benji only a few days later, but by the time he got to Kaius and Hunter it had been weeks.

Cybercrew AU // T$$ AU Masterlist

@theonewithallthefixations , @violets-whumperflies , @whump-me , @pirefyrelight , @soheavyaburden , @snakebites-and-ink , @whumpsday , @kixngiggles , @echo-goes-aaa , @whumpcateyes , @clickerflight , @sodacreampuff , @starfields08000

[whumpninja]

Whumpee sleeping in a barn.

[guys-in-distress-database]

Confirmation! Vindication! Validation!