#and if so one of these days I'll actually give this whumpee some comfort

[lumpofwhump]

Bad Things Happen Bingo: Scalding

...AKA, more Lighthouse Whump

Whumpee abruptly jerked awake as his chair tilted under him, crashing backward onto the floor with enough force to make him bounce before his head hit the floor. Through his swimming vision, he saw Whumper standing over him, staring down with cold fury.

"I hope you enjoyed your rest," she spat. "Thanks to you, there's a shipwreck down on the rocks."

Whumpee's eyes went wide and his stomach dropped even further than it already had from the fall. "W-what? I'm… I'm sorry, I -"

Whumper bent down and yanked him up by his now long and unkempt hair, bringing him only inches from his face. "Do you think that matters to any of the people out there?"

He whimpered in pain and cringed before her fury. "No! I just - I couldn't help it! I, I can't…"

"Do you think I want to hear your excuses?" Whumper snapped, shaking him in her tight grasp by the head. This only added to his dizziness. "All you had to do is keep the light burning, and make sure the ships could see the rocks."

And clean, Whumpee thought resentfully. And mend your clothes. And fix anything that breaks. And…

"It really isn't much to ask for saving your life," Whumper continued, as if reading his thoughts. "And for not turning you over to Her Majesty's Navy." She let him fall to the floor again without warning, prompting a frantic yelp. "You wouldn't have stood a chance if you'd been transported."

He looked down, knowing she was right.

"It's already midday. Go boil the water for lunch, and then we'll talk about how to make sure this won't happen again." Whumper's tone suggested that this conversation would not end well for him. He swallowed, beginning to shake despite his best efforts, but nodded and backed away toward the stairs to go down to the kitchen. He didn't dare turn his back on her, not when she was in this kind of mood.

Waiting for the water to boil just gave him time to think about what this "discussion" might end with. If he was lucky, he'd just be locked in his tiny room without meals for a few days while Whumper carried out his duties, if only to prove how expendable he really was if hi proved to be too much trouble. If he was unlucky…

His had ran over a cluster of scars on his shoulder from when she'd slammed him into a window hard enough to crack the glass. His room had never been particularly warm, but since then it had been too drafty for him to get a good night's sleep.

His shoulders tensed as he heard footsteps coming down the spiral staircase, and only then did he realize that the water had already reached a rapid boil.

Whumper entered with a look of disgust, shaking her head.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad this time, he tried to reassure himself. At least he hadn't burnt anything…

"Would you like soup or -" he started, but broke off as Whumper strode over and grasped him tightly by the arm and thrust his hand into the boiling water.

He had a long second before the pain hit to realize what had happened and dread how bad it was going to be. And then he started screaming.

He tried to wrench his hand out of the pot, but Whumper was stronger, holding his arm in place for one second, two seconds, three, four, five, as his skin started to blister grotesquely under the bubbles. Finally she let go, and he pulled his hand out, gasping as tears streamed down his face. He couldn't bear to make himself look at his hand, so instead his eyes involuntarily drifted over to Whumper. He whimpered at seeing that she was hardly less angry than she'd been a moment ago.

"The other one," she commanded, reaching out her own hand.

He shook his head with a sob and pulled away on quivering legs. "N-no, no please, Whumper, I can't. You know I need to… please…"

"What did I say about excuses?" she asked in a low, dangerous voice.

Still, Whumpee couldn't make himself move.

Whumper's eyes lit up in fury at his disobedience, and she grabbed for the pot, lifting it and preparing to throw its contents on Whumpee.

He cowered and scrambled away, but she continued toward him, backing him into a corner. He raised his trembling, as-yet-uninjured hand in self-defense and then surrender with a defeated whine. She gave him a stony glare and a long moment of anticipation before roughly dragging him and the pot both to the table and thrusting his hand into it as soon as she'd set it down.

This time there was no delay between the scalding and the screaming.

As soon as she let go of his arm, he pulled away sharply, so much so that he spilled the rest of the pot onto his legs. His sobs turned into still more shrieks of pain as the boiling water made contact with the ragged remains of his pants and shoes. His legs gave out under the shock of the pain, prompting yet another scream as his burns made contact with the floor.

Whumper watched him impassively, eventually shaking her head at this display. "Get up," she said contemptuously.

"B-but my hands…" he said weakly, only to be met with Whumper's narrowed eyes. He bit back another whimper as he put his burnt and bubbling hands to the floor up onto his blistered, reddened feet, stumbling forward and nearly collapsing.

"And get those off," she snapped, gesturing to his pants. "Because of your carelessness, they'll need to be replaced."

Whumpee sniffled and staggered off to his room to clumsily peel the pants off his scalded legs. For once,the cold wind blowing in through his broken window felt something like comfort.

That night, Whumpee pushed through the agony of every task, and for that matter every movement. Trimming the wicks. Keeping them lit. Cleaning the floors and windows till they were spotless on burning hands and knees. There were no ships to guide to safety that night, but Whumpee stayed awake all the same.

Next

--

Taglist (Let me know if you want on or off):

@whumpsday @whither-wander-whump @skinofafish @badthingshappenbingo

[mj-iza-writer]

Triggers: pet whump, naked Whumpee, whipping, dehumanization.

Whumpee shivered on the concrete floor of their cell.

They could hear footsteps coming down the hall leading to them. Every step made their heart sink.

They almost cried when they heard the keys greet the lock of their door.

"Get in position", the order came.

Whumpee scrambled to their knees and raised their hands up and behind their head. Their naked form now exposed to Whumper

"Doing well? I see some bruising from yesterday, that makes me happy", Whumper examined their work.

"Yes ma-master", Whumpee chattered their teeth while they spoke.

"Aww are you cold?", Whumper frowned, it seemed like they may have cared, maybe a little.

Whumpee looked at Whumper with a pleadful expression, hoping in this one second to have some mercy. Whumpee slightly nodded their head.

"Okay, let's see what we can do about that", Whumper smiled comfortingly, "go ahead and lay down on your stomach."

Whumpee complied, not wanting to ruin their chance of warmth.

Whumper turned to face a guard, if only Whumpee had seen the mocking grin Whumper made.

A sickening sound filled the room. Before Whumpee could react a sharp slice whipped across their back.

Whumpee cried out as they tried to crawl away.

Whumper only followed and continued slicing their whip at Whumpee's backside. By the time Whumper was finished Whumpee's back and butt were covered in red stipes.

Whumper felt the markings and grinned, "there, nice and warm. Isn't that better?"

Whumpee winced but nodded quickly. They didn't want to chance another beating.

"Good, I'm so glad", Whumper mocked, "I wasn't sure what I was going to do to you today, so I'm glad it all worked out."

Whumper mocked Whumpee on their way out of the room, making the guard laugh.

Whumpee collapsed to the floor, they shook as they curled in on themself. They cried loudly as their beaten skin stretched out.

Later that same day Whumpee weakly watched as the door opened again, they tried to keep their shivering to a minimum.

"Oh good, you're already in position", Whumper grinned, "are you cold still?"

"N-no master I-I'm okay", Whumpee shook, "I've learned my lesson master."

"Oh, what a shame" Whumper reached outside of the room and grabbed a blanket.

They held it up and watched Whumpee's shoulders drop, "I was actually going to let you have a blanket, but if you're alright, I guess I'll change my mind on that."

Whumper watched as tears formed in Whumpee's eyes.

Whumpee shook, "please", Whumpee whispered pleadingly as they held out their hands, hoping their pitiful pleas wouldn't be ignored, "please", they squeaked.

"Didn't you just say you were fine. You're not lying are you", Whumper couldn't hide their smile, "liars get punished."

"Have mercy on me master", Whumpee fell to the floor, "please have mercy."

"Disgraceful", Whumper sounded disgusted, "you are a disgrace. Why should I have mercy on you? You're just a useless prisoner."

Whumpee sobbed as they forced themself to crawl to Whumper's feet and kiss their shoes, "I know, I'm sorry", they begged.

"I will allow you to have the blanket on one condition", Whumper knelt down and gripped Whumpee's chin.

Whumpee allowed their head to be lifted to look Whumper eye to eye.

"Anything ma-master, please", Whumpee side glanced the blanket.

"So desperate", Whumper harshly squeezed Whumpee's cheeks.

"Mmm", Whumpee winced.

"I want a pet, I think you will do nicely", Whumper tilted Whumpee's head up to look them over, a pleased expression crossed their face.

"A-a pet?", Whumpee questioned.

"Yes, you will be trained of course, but you will receive better treatment, better food. You can come upstairs into the house once you're well trained and obedient", Whumper released their chin.

Whumpee's head bobbed down.

"I'll even give you a few rewards as you complete your training task", Whumper looked around, "your cell could become quite comfortable if you try hard enough."

Whumpee looked down.

"You don't have to decide today, but I will expect an answer by tomorrow", Whumper stood, "I'll let you have the blanket tonight. Maybe you can have a glimpse of the good life."

"Will I still get hurt?", Whumpee whispered, "and can I have clothes... please."

"It depends on your obedience, I won't cause pain if I don't have to", Whumper smiled, "my pets are taken care of quite well as long as you do as you're told."

"As for the clothes we can figure out something, although I prefer my pet naked. We can compromise a little", Whumper walked to the door, "I'll be back to see you for your answer in the morning."

Whumpee hurried to wrap the blanket around themself, their shivering slowly went away. It almost felt like a bit of heat was being pushed into the cell.

"They said that I might get treated better if I go along with it", Whumpee thought out loud, "I've had enough of this down here, but is it worth becoming a pet."

Whumpee felt their eyes get heavy. They realized this was the first bit of comfort they'd received in a while.

"I-I didn't get attacked either", Whumpee tried their best to stay awake.

Whumper watched from a camera. A smile cut across their face.

"I've finally broken them down", Whumper spoke to a guard, "I may get my pet sooner than I thought."

"They went to sleep", the guard zoomed in, "should I wake them up."

"No, I want them to see some good treatment now. I want them to see how good they could have it", Whumper sighed, "let's give them some better food for dinner as well."

"Dinner", a guard slammed the door open, "Master asked that you get something special, if you like this, just imagine what food you'll get as a pet", they promptly left after setting the dish down.

Whumper watched Whumpee cautiously crawl to the food and curiously pick at it.

Whumpee took a small bite, their eyes lit up as they took another bite.

Actual food.... Whumpee couldn't believe it.

Whumper watched happily, "I'll be getting a pet soon", they sang.

The next morning Whumpee waited for the door to open. They quietly got into their position.

Whumper walked in and eyed the empty food dish.

"I see you enjoyed your dinner last night", Whumper smiled, "is there something you'd like to say to me."

"Y-yes sir", Whumpee smiled, "thankyou for the food."

"You're welcome, and what else?", Whumper listened impatiently.

"I though a lot of what you said, at first I was going to say no", Whumpee froze when they saw Whumper shift, "I'm sorry, I accept, please have mercy", Whumpee squeezed their eyes shut waiting to be hit.

They jumped when Whumper's hand patted their cheek.

Whumpee felt something wrap around their neck and tighten. Two metal objects poked into their throat.

"Just so we're clear", Whumper chuckled, and Whumpee heard something click.

Whumpee fell to the ground as electricity coursed down their spine.

When it stopped they weakly looked up at Whumper. They panted, trying to catch their breath.

Whumper leaned against the wall, "just so we're clear, if you do not act as you are supposed to you'll get zapped. That collar will teach you to mind your manners."

Whumpee shook as they continued to feel the after shocks.

"Am I clear?", Whumper grinned.

Whumpee whimpered as they watched Whumper's finger hover the button.

"Y-yes mas-master", Whumpee fell to the floor and held onto Whumper's feet, "pl-please don't shock me again."

"Good", Whumper turned to leave, "follow me, we'll go on a tour of the house. When you are properly trained you'll be able to stay up there with me."

Whumpee didn't budge.

Whumper turned, "why aren't you coming?"

"I'm s-sorry, I wasn't sure if you wanted me to crawl or walk Master", Whumpee looked down.

"That is a good question", Whumper thought to themself, "crawl."

I'm sorry it's taken forever to post stories. I've been busy with work, and family. Plus, I'm trying to finally move out of my parents home so I can hopefully be in a safer situation. I hope you enjoyed the story. -MJ

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all. @villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13 @notpeppermint @cyborg0109

[watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees]

Back Home

for now this is where the story ends chronologically

did i manage to mention 2 characters ive never even spoken of before? yes! that is to say, the story's far from finished, this is just the latest current event in the timeline as i think of it (edit: they're introduced in the honeymoon chapters so they aren't that random anymore)

masterlist

previous

TW: ptsd, whumpee visiting whumper, lots of dehumanisation, very fucked up dynamic changes

Emery had stared at the shiny surface of Luke's business card for what seemed like hours. She should have ripped it in half and thrown it at him before heading back to the courtroom, instead she pocketed it and only remembered she had it at home.

She was too anxious to sit down, and placed her phone on the kitchen counter staring at the numbers she copied from the card.

Was she really about to flush all the progress she made down the drain and call him? The man who kept her as a pet for years, Luke Fletcher, who made her life a living hell even after she escaped, a small piece of him still stuck in her brain like years old gum stuck to a bench in the park.

It was true that she needed the money, but was it really worth it becoming indebted to that monster?

She pressed on the call button without thinking further. It rang loud and clear each beep sending shivers down her spine. She prayed he wouldn't pick it up. Then she could've had a peace of mind, and when he inevitably called back, revenge would taste sweet as she would disconnect the line.

"Fletcher-Richards, how can I help?" she shuddered, the familiar phrase had been burnt into her mind, of course he gave her his private number. She lost all sense of what she was about to say. No words came to mind she just stared at the phone.

"Em?" he asked, figuring it out quickly. She swallowed hard.

"Yes" she confirmed.

"Great, I was wondering when you'd call. Listen, I looked into your lawyer better, and I severely overestimated him, he doesn't stand a chance. I was thinking-"

"I'm sorry, S-" she stopped herself just in time not to say it "sorry, but I don't want to talk. I just want to know if you meant it? About the money?" Emery hoped the correction was smooth enough that he didn't notice.

"I wouldn't have offered if I didn't" he scoffed "Just hear me out okay?"

"Sure" she sighed. No matter how hard she tried to convince herself she was allowed to say no, she didn't actually know how.

"I can give you the number of another lawyer, who'll help you out and maybe even get you a good deal. He's the second best in the city"

"The best one wasn't available, huh?" she half whispered it, but Luke still replied.

"I don't think the same person can represent both the defense and prosecution in the same trial" Emery knew that he was laughing. As if the whole situation was a joke between old friends "I'll arrange it for you, just come by tomorrow"

"To-tomorrow?" Way too soon.

"Would you prefer to drag it out a few more days?" Of course not. She knew she wouldn't sleep at night anyway.

"No. Sorry"

"I'm home all day, the gate will open for your car"

...

She took a deep breath and knocked on the door. There still was some hope they'd miss the sound and she could just leave. Tell Luke noone opened the door when he inevitably calls.

"Good morning, come on in" he greeted her with a bright smile and stepped aside to let her in. The familiar scent of the house filled up her lungs and for a moment she thought she'd burst into tears.

"Make yourself comfortable" he gestured towards the living room to her left "The papers are in my office, I'll be right back"

She stayed frozen in place until she lost sight of him as he disappeared in the stairwell.

Nothing had changed. The floor was still covered by the long red running carpet she cleaned so many times before. The walls were the same eggshell white colour, warm and comforting to anyone, who hadn't been confined to this hell of a place.

She made her way to the dining table and pulled a chair out for herself. She took a second before she sat down on it and tried to calm herself. It was just like any chair at home. She didn't have to kneel next to it ever again.

"Damn, look what the cat dragged in" A chill ran through her so deep she felt it in her bones. She made eye-contact with Cole, who casually made his way over to the table and sat down across from her.

Emery couldn't do anything, just stare at him like a deer in the headlights of a truck that definitely won't slow down or swerve to avoid it.

Everything was wrong. The phone she had in her pocket burnt as it was something she's not supposed to have, the air around her neck felt freezing without the collar around, and she was sitting by the dining table, eye to eye with her ma-.

"Is the prodigal daughter finally returning?" he teased with a grin. As if he didn't know why she was there.

"No" she forced out and looked away. She was on the verge of tears again.

"I'm kidding" he laughed and laid back in his seat, his gaze burnt holes in the side of her face "Luke will be right back"

She nodded and risked a glance over to Cole again. He barely changed if he did at all. His skin was dark brown and rich as ever, from travelling all around the globe, vacationing together with Luke in the most luxurious sunny beaches, where even the sun shines differently, whenever they could. His hair short and dark, immaculate. He shot her an award winning smile.

"I had to ask, just to make sure, now that you're here you cold stay a while" There it was again, words that pierced her skin and twisted like a blade.

"Everything okay here?" Luke entered and Emery could breathe again. She hated how relieving his presence was, as if he already started lulling her into a sense of safety that he would rip away for his own entertainment, amending it later with comfort only he provided, just to take that away too, in a vicious cycle over and over again.

"Perfectly, were just catching up" Cole smiled innocently at his husband.

"Here's the check," he placed a stack of papers on the table and picked them apart to show her. Emery was glad there was something to focus on "this is the private number of the lawyer I told you about, I talked to him earlier and he's willing to take over your case. Call him. These are some statements you might need, copies of our pet licenses," he flipped through the pages and pulled the last document from the bottom of the stack.

"And this one, is your intake form, signed by you and two others who were present as witnesses. Don't let it get into wrong hands" she stared at her own handwriting.

"Why are you giving this to me?" she looked up at the man confused.

"Well, owner's keep these of pets usually, given the circumstances I think it's for you to have"

In a twisted way that was the most reassuring sentence she has heard since her escape. No amount of progress she made with her therapist had brought this amount of relief. She hated that it was Luke granting it.

"Emery!" she jumped from her seat and turned around.

The pet stood dead in her tracks, just before they collided and looked over to her owner for permission. He just nodded with a fond smile.

Emery buried her face in the other woman's wild, blonde curls. She took in the familiar scent and finally let her tears roll.

Alyssa sobbed into the crook of her neck, she caressed the locks of hair that barely reached her shoulder, and let herself be lost in the familiar embrace of Emery's bony hands.

"I never thought I'd see you again"

"I'm so sorry. I should've brought you with"

"Okay, that's a step too far" Luke placed a hand on Aly's back, who immediately unfolded herself from the embrace and dropped to her knees. The man's hand slid up her spine while she did so and found it's way through her hair, gently massaging at her scalp.

Emery took an instinctive, horrified step back.

"I respect you, Em, but Alyssa's my property still. She never was and never will be going anywhere, right love?" Aly nodded.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that" she muttered, suddenly far too aware of the space she was taking up standing.

"Hm, sure you didn't" She would take Alyssa as far away from this place as possible if she could.

"Come on, Darling" Cole interrupted, still sitting at the table, clearly enjoying the scenario that unfolded "They haven't seen each other in so long, let them catch up"

Luke sighed, frustrated, he let go of Aly's hair.

"Fine, but the puppy stays on her knees, where she belongs"

"No, I can't-" I can't become one of you. I can't do that to her "I have to go" she needed to get out.

"Please!" Emery's protest was cut short and she made eye contact with Alyssa, pleading for her to stay just a little longer.

"I'm sorry, I can't-" she tried, but her determination crumbled as fast as it built up.

"I'd hate to keep you here against your will, but you don't look alright, stay for a coffee?" Emery scoffed, absolutely bewildered by the words that left the man's mouth. I'd hate to keep you here against your will. No you wouldn't, you'd enjoy it the most you monster.

"Sure" she locked eyes with Aly again, and attempted to smile at her. She sat down and the pet was quick to snuggle up to the side of her leg, resting her head against her knee.

They both flinched as Luke walked past them to the kitchen.

Her hand hovered over Aly's head tentatively. She never imagined to be put in that position, it was almost too much to handle.

The pet looked up at her, pleading, as if to say it's okay. Emery remembered far too well how much comfort it brought for her hair to be played with, to be given an ounce of comfort.

Alyssa's hair was thick and soft, she tried to avoid getting her hand pull at the tangles that formed no matter how many times she brushed them out.

"How do you take it? Milk and sugar right?" Luke asked from behind. She used to. Now she couldn't bare to look at any sweet beverage's.

"Black, please" she corrected and Luke hummed in acknowledgment.

"So, Em" Cole leaned forward in his seat, commanding her attention back to him "What have you been up to these past few years?"

"Therapy, mostly" she answered bitterly, no idea where the sudden courage possessed her from. Maybe it was soothing to have Alyssa curled up next to her. No, she couldn't think like that.

He laughed "And how's that working out for you?"

"Cole" Luke frowned, entering Emery's line of sight again, balancing three cups of coffee on a tray.

"Sorry" he replied, still smirking. Of course he wasn't sorry. Luke placed the cup in front of her.

"Thank you, S-" There it was again. Old habits die hard "Thanks"

They sipped their coffees in awkward silence, that only the soft clinks of the saucers broke.

"Can I ask Alyssa something?"

"You're welcome to" Luke shrugged.

"How have things been here? Since I- since..." she struggled to finish. Aly still looked up at Luke for approval before answering.

"Good" came the well-trained reply "I- it's just... I miss you. And I miss Lucky"

"Why, what happened to her?"

"Let's not bring Lucky up, it upsets Aly" Luke moderated. Alyssa nodded miserably "Tell her about your little playdates, puppy"

"Beau is here a lot" she took a deep breath to try and steady her voice. What the fuck happened to Lucky? "I'm really happy that Sir allows it"

"Beau is... hers?" Alyssa tensed up. Luke just nodded "I really have to go now" she stood up abruptly, pushing Alyssa away. She grabbed the papers and crumpled them into her bag as fast as it was possible.

None of them made a move to stop her, as she hurried towards the front door.

Luke stood up and followed her outside.

"Will you be alright driving home like this?" he asked cautiously. She couldn't speak, but nodded and sat in the driver's seat. "I'm sorry, about Aly bringing all that up..."

"It's not... It's fine. Not her fault" she shook her head. Bile rising up her throat as she thought about how the day would end for Alyssa for the infraction, unfortunately she had a solid idea.

She slammed the door in and started the car.

[howtowhumpyourhiccup]

"Why Wasn't I Enough?"

Summary: Written for AI-less Whumptober 2023 Day 19 instead of 13. Technically set before RttE. Hiccup Left Berk AU + Trans!Hiccup AU. The Dragon Master helped Berk end the Dragon Scourge, now they’re free to celebrate Dreadfall and Hiccup is free to think about the past.

Warning: /

Rating: General

Characters: Hiccup, Toothless, Astrid, Stormfly

Pairing: /

Words: 1 905

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Prompt: Taken for granted, "Why wasn't I enough?"

Whumpee: Hiccup

Author’s Notes: Posting Day 19 because Day 13, while also written, takes place after this one. So I'll be posting Day 13 on the 15th because Day 15 is the second chapter to 13, which I'll be posting on the 19th. Confused yet? :')

Enjoy!

@ailesswhumptober

XOXOX

A celebration on Berk. Growing up, Hiccup can’t say he’s seen too many of them. With the threat of dragons looming over them and alliances between tribes shaky, there often didn’t seem any room for them. There was too little food, the weather was too harsh, the most recent raid left too much to rebuild, there were lives lost… and other such reasons. In short, there was no reason to celebrate anything.

Except maybe a birthday. Because someone surviving another year was always a good thing.

So to see the colorful decorations and lights now should leave Hiccup feeling warm. There are a lot of young children on Berk now, more than he's ever seen in his entire lifetime, it should be a joy to see them get to enjoy such festivities.

But… These thoughts can't seem to get him warm.

From the edge of the old kill ring, he watches the village. The glow of the lights and the sounds of music, singing, and laughter can be seen and heard from all the way up here. Hiccup sits with one leg dangling, the other a stump wrapped in bandages. Toothless lies half curled up around him. He watches the scenery as well.

The dragon warbles, wanting to know what they're celebrating.

"It's called Dreadfall, Bud," Hiccup says. "We're celebrating the harvest."

"We're," what a strange thing to say. He hasn't been on Berk since he left when he was 15. His 18th birthday is coming up. Though he wants to join so badly, he doesn't belong with them. He never did.

His stump is all bandaged up, his leg lost for them, but still he’s not one of them.

Though Toothless would like a more in-depth explanation on this harvest feast, he can tell the mood is a little melancholic and so decides to ask later. He puts his head in Hiccup's lap, giving him something to pet. That always seems to make him feel better.

It's silent then. After all this time together, few actual words need to be spoken between the two of them.

Wingbeats approach from above.

“There you are! I figured I would find the two of you here,” Astrid remarks as Stormfly lands nearby. She dismounts with ease and approaches, something held securely in her hands. The Nadder follows her and attempts to preen her. Hiccup is glad to see their bond- still so fresh- growing.

“You did, huh?” Hiccup asks, a welcome smile on his face.

“Well, not here specifically, but I didn’t even bother to drop by Gothi’s because I knew you wouldn’t be in bed,” Astrid takes one shoulder of his as she takes a seat on the ledge with him, Toothless moving his tail out of the way. It makes him glad to see her so comfortable around dragons nowadays.

“I think you know by now that I can’t sit still,” Hiccup responds and Toothless snorts. Oh, if only she knew how bad his rider is at sitting still.

“You can also not sit still in the village, you know? Where we’re in the middle of a party? You could have some actual food for once,” she tells him and hands him what she was holding. It’s been wrapped in cloth to keep it warm. Unwrapping it, he finds a small pie with custard filling.

“It’s a Berk special. I saw that the baker was making some and thought of you, I don’t think living amongst dragons means you can have a lot of pastries,” she explains.

“No, I usually just get fish thrown up in my lap if someone thinks I need extra food,” he states, to which she laughs. And yes, it’s funny now, but she has no idea how often it happens.

There’s a beat of silence as he simply listens to her laugh and enjoys having her near. There was once upon a time when he crushed on her. Hard. Are all of those feelings gone? He’s… not so sure.

“Do you think she’ll ever get to enjoy Dreadfall again?” Then a question comes that completely ruins the mood. At least for him. For him it’s a slap in the face, for her… Astrid is just nostalgic. Melancholic. Like he was minutes earlier.

“IIII… don’t know if she’s out there after all this time. I told you this before, Astrid. I promised that I would try to find her, not that I would,” Hiccup reminds her.

Though she tries not to let it show, he can see the slight change in her expression. Her smile falters, but it takes a trained eye to notice.

She’s talking about Hiccup. Hiccup their heiress, not Hiccup the Dragon Master.

Because she was a girl and he's a guy.

Pastry forgotten, he pets Toothless with a knit in his brow. The dragon's eyes are closed, but he knows he's listening in.

Astrid watches them from the corners of her eyes.

The Dragon Master is here because stories of his many exploits reached far and wide. They heard about how he could control dragons, make them do his bidding. And as Berk was desperate for an end to the Dragon Scourge before they’re annihilated, Astrid took her peers and went to find him. They implored him to help solve their predicament. How lucky they were to find out he already knew what was terrorizing them for three centuries. All he asked in return is that Berk accept and try to live with dragons.

He lost his leg killing the Red Death and thus the Dragon Riders were born. It’s still a relatively young endeavour, but Snotlout has already proclaimed himself the best dragon trainer Berk has ever seen.

Hiccup nearly lost his life saving their village, now he’s their hero, and they will make good on their promise to help him protect dragons.

And now he’s going to try and find their heir… Heiress. Because Stoick’s daughter disappeared one day when the poor girl was only 15, snatched away by a dragon as the rumors go. Just like her mother before her.

Seeing the Dragon Master live so harmoniously with the beasts who took her, there’s some newfound hope that she might still be alive even after all this time. Or that is certainly Stoick’s hope.

His hatred for dragons, it isn’t as deep as the love for his daughter.

Or so he’s been told.

“You should come down with me,” Astrid decides to strike up another conversation. “I think some time spent amongst humans could do you some good.”

“Oh, what’s that? Are we trying to civilize the feral dragon man, Astrid?” Hiccup asks her.

“Well, you could use some manners.”

“Right. Anything Snotlout can teach me?” He teases her back, her laugh causes his heart to flutter. Okay, maybe the feelings are still there.

It’s a shame that, too, will have to stay secret.

His smile falters at the thought, though he tries to force it to stay.

“In all honesty, I guess I’m hoping to make you stay,” after a beat of silence, Astrid admits. “Having you here seems to do our chief some good.”

Hiccup perks up as do Toothless’ earfins. “It does?”

Astrid nods, but doesn’t elaborate. That will be her mystery to hold.

What about him makes Stoick so happy that his people have started noticing? Are it his deeds? Or does he, perhaps, remind him of his lost child? Could it be the similarities in his face? The hair? The scrawny physique? Though he’s not as much scrawny anymore as he is lean. Compact.

Or is it really simply because his deeds have saved the village from being wiped out? Kept the lives of their young children from being snuffed out through raids, famine, or disease?

Maybe it was out of a need to test the waters, but he straight up gave them his name when they first asked. His real name, the one he kept. Astrid had looked at him, expression unreadable, and simply said "okay."

"Okay."

No sign of recognition. What a haircut, some bindings, and boy clothes don't do to a person.

Oh and rumors. Because of course, Stoick’s daughter- who couldn’t focus on household chores long enough before getting sidetracked by her crazy ideas- couldn't possibly do what he does. Though, every rumor speaks of a man, which is exactly how he prefers it, though it still stings.

Astrid and Ruffnut were taught to be warriors, meanwhile Hiccup was desperately taught how to be a wife. Not even how to be a chieftess. A wife. A mother. After all, someone had to protect her once Stoick couldn't anymore and that meant she had to be appealing to someone. It was appalling.

And apparently, there was a suitor on the horizon.

Sounds to him like their heir left in the nick of time.

Astrid rises to her feet, Hiccup and Toothless both watch her. “I’m rejoining the party, I still have to show Stormfly our chicken pies.”

The Nadder squawks excitedly behind her, her spines flex enthusiastically.

Hiccup huffs in amusement. Turns out, Stormfly adores chicken, it’s her favorite food! Her Rider should absolutely introduce her to this delicacy.

“You can get some as well if you plan on joining us,” Astrid tells him, hands on her hips.

“I’m familiar with chicken pies, I did live in a village at one point,” he reminds her. He told her a bit of his past after a bit of questioning. Some bits and pieces to keep it vague enough, he doesn’t want to be found out for who he really is.

Unfortunately- or fortunately depending on who you ask- the twins have spun a story about how his parents were killed when he was very young and the dragons raised him, which is how he got so good at bonding with them.

It’s only true in that the dragons do take good care of him, just like he and Toothless try to protect them. Particularly his inner circle, consisting of a Night Fury, a Deadly Nadder, a Monstrous Nightmare, a Gronckle, and a Hideous Zippleback. All released from the very kill ring behind them.

With one last smile, Astrid leaves them, mounting Stormfly before the two fly off.

Now finally left alone again, Hiccup’s smile disappears and Toothless warbles at him quizzically.

“I’m okay, Bud,” he assures him. It was a pleasant conversation, but for him, there’s a bit of an aftertaste. Everything on Berk gives him that aftertaste because everything reminds him of his past.

A past in which people didn’t like him or anything he did. When everyone else’s idea of giving him a bright future was to make him worthy to be married off and have children with. When no one could’ve ever thought the embarrassment of Berk could ever be the Dragon Master they ran to for help.

Upon first coming to Berk as his true self, he was surprised to find that Stoick’s daughter was missed as much as she was. All this talk about finding her, all this worrying, recounting the stories they have of her… Why did he have to disappear for people to stop taking his existence for granted?

His hands find his dragon again, who lifts his head again. They’re at eye-level.

"Why wasn't I enough, Bud?" He asks and Toothless purrs, nuzzling him. He throws an arm around him and holds him close, in need of his comfort.

[whumpberry-cookie]

list that gotta do with a theme park?… -🎤🎩 Dapper Mic Anon

Ooh, you mean prompts for public whump in theme park with whumper? Or more like feeling sick/uncomfortable/anxious in theme park?

I will just write separate prompts for both! And I'll make separate content warnings for both of them.

Theme park whump/sickfic

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

Whump:

(Cw: whumpee triggered, fake friends, fake tools of torture, dislocated bones, affectionate whumper)

Whumpee gets manipulated by the fake friends to enter the haunted house but Whumpee doesn't know the theme before they enter. And then they see lots of blood, tools of torture and people (actors) hanging in the chains. Caretaker finds the "friends" outside, laughing. (C:) "Where did Whumpee go?". Caretaker realises and without a single thought knocks the leader of the " friends" off his feet with a strong blow to the jaw (dislocated!). Caretaker runs around, searching for whumpee and finally finds them sitting outside on the bench with an actor who led them outside, and now comforting them.

Affectionate Whumper takes their prideful Whumpee to the theme park and forces them to behave. Whumpee hates every moment of Whumper trying to satisfy their coinscience by buying Whumpee nice food and toys, and hugging them, laughing. And Whumpee feels so humiliated and so helpless, but at the same time they can't help but laugh from the adrenaline of the roller coaster rides. And enjoy the sweet food. Whumpee's happy. And angry. And conflicted.

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

Sickfic:

(Cw: trouble with breathing, feeling nuseous, waste fluids)

Sickie loses their breath sometimes. So after some extreme rollercoaster they keep going breathless and faint several times this day, even during the meals/calm walks in the park. Caretaker decides to stay with Whumpee while the other friends are going for the rollercoasters. Whumpee takes their medicine and falls asleep on Caretaker's arm. (W:) "I'm sorry... I ruined this day for you..." (C:) "Hmm? Oh, no, actually...," whispers, "...i'm deadly scared of these rides. One more ride and I'd barf. So you gave me a good excuse"

The water rides are fun, but then Sickie goes out all wet and without the clothes to change. And they just recovered from the big cold. So Caretaker takes them to the bathroom. Sickie just waits in the stall in Caretaker's coat and Caretaker helps them dry their shirt under the blowdryer.

Sickie feels nuseous after some bigger rollercoaster ride and a full meal. But Caretaker's always prepared. So they walk to a cafe, Caretaker asks for a hot water and dissolves the medicine for it, that tastes and smells sweet and neutral.

(W:) "...oh dear. I want to get down. I want to get down" (C:) "I thought you didn't fear the hights?" (W:) "Well I DO NOW APPARENTLY!" they scream as the roller coaster cars go up and up preparing for the biggest fall. Caretaker just gives quick instructions (C:) "Brace your knees and hands agains the car. Hold your breath just before the fall. Close your eyes if you need to. Remember, it's less than 30 seconds"

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

[pigeonwhumps]

First day part 1

Sam and Lucan masterlist

Taglist: @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @onlybadendings @whumpofdory @haro-whumps

Lucan's first day living with Sam.

Divided into two parts because I feel like I've been starving y'all of Sam and Lucan content and I wanted to give you some. Lucan's been brutalised in the auction house enough for the time being.

2.8k

CWs: past rape, past slavery, pet whump, non-human whumpee (faerie), conditioning, past food and drink denial, past electric shocks

“I think he was raped.”

“Who was?” asks Amanda sharply.

“Lucan.”

“Sam, I cannot express to you how little that name means to me right now.”

Ah. “I... haven’t told you yet, have I?”

“About Lucan? No.”

“He's a faerie. Until last night, Caroline Jones' pet-class slave.”

Amanda sighs. “Is this why the news is talking about her house burning down? Sam, what did you do?”

“You know I had that interview with her yesterday? Well, she brought Lucan with her, and it was awful. She wouldn't even let him have a drink because he didn't 'deserve it'. She was boasting about not giving him solid food. He was so scared, Amanda, I couldn't just leave him there!” They swallow hard. “And when Luke brought him here... we had to cut his hair, because part of it was burnt, and he started crying when I said I wouldn't do so without his permission. That he could cut it himself if he preferred. You know how much hair means to faeries. Between that and the name Caroline gave him... how much has he been violated over the years that treating him with basic respect makes him cry?”

“I don't disagree with you taking him in, Sam, I never would. I'd be a hypocrite if I did.”

“True.”

“So. You said he was raped?” she asks through a mouthful of something.

“Oh shit, I forgot you were working today. I'm so sorry.”

“You're lucky. You caught me on my break. Tell me why you think Lucan was raped.”

“He offered himself up to me. I went in this morning to see if he wanted breakfast, and he just... offered himself. To be raped. And I don't, I mean, Caroline doesn't seem the type but...”

There’s silence from the other end of the line for nearly a full minute before Amanda says, “do you remember those giveaways she held? There was an advert for one in the paper once.”

They do remember now. It was a line of print in an article about Caroline, urging people to visit her Instagram page for a chance to win. Top prize: the use of her pet for the weekend. “You used it for kindling.”

“Well, I don’t have a litter tray to put it in.”

“Or a cat.”

“Or a cat,” she agrees.

“So you think that Lucan’s been raped by one of those winners?”

“One or more, I'd say. You know what the people who try to win those things are like. And as long as it's not permanent, visible damage I can't see her caring.”

They swallow. They don't even want to think about it, but they have to. “Will you do me a favour and examine him? Not just because of the rape, I mean he has scars and injuries everywhere, and I want to make sure nothing's too serious.”

“If anything was infected you'd probably know by now, but I'll come over later. Has he eaten yet?”

“No. I was going to make him eggs as soon as I'd woken him, but then... well, this happened.”

“Okay. Feed him and try and make him comfortable. The less scared he is when I do the tests the better.”

“He'll still be terrified, but I'll do my best. I was going to do that anyway, I don't want him scared of me.”

“Thank you.”

“Do you happen to have any tips? For taking care of him, I mean, I know you've treated slaves and ex-slaves before, and you know Kara, so I was just wondering...”

"Yeah, actually. Give him some rules. They don't have to be anything big, but he needs some kind of structure. And try not to feel rejected if he stays scared, or doesn't believe you won't hurt him. Judging by what I know happened to Kara, he has good reason to feel that way.”

“Cheers. Well, I'd better let you get back to what you were doing.”

“I'll see you soon then.” She hangs up and they clutch the mobile like a lifeline as they head towards their room. Hopefully Lucan's dressed this time.

_

Lucan dresses himself carefully, pulling on the sweatshirt and too-short tracksuit bottoms. He wraps the scarf back around his neck and he immediately feels better. Warmer. The warm, soft weight around his neck is comforting. Then he kneels on the floor, waiting for Master to return.

He doesn't understand. If Master didn't want to use him like that, why did they give him a bed? The small relief he feels at not having to do that is overriden by his fear. Master told him to rest some more and get dressed. What's Master got in store for him that's bad enough that he has to rest first? Old Mistress never let him rest on a bed. Master's punishments must be more severe than hers, then.

Punishment for what? What's he done wrong? He hasn't done anything that Master hasn't ordered him to since he arrived.

Luke, maybe?

It doesn't matter what your opinion is, 12735, says a handler in his head, if your owner says you need to be punished you need it and that's the end of the matter. So get down there, take the punishment, and be damned grateful she's bothering to teach you.

Lucan swallows. He knows he needs to be punished, he always does, he just... doesn't understand anything here.

The door creaks open and he tenses, eyes on Master's fluffy socks as they approach.

“Hi Lucan. Um, you can look at me if you like.” Lucan glances up briefly. Master doesn't look too angry, but their arms are still lean and muscly and if they choose they can hurt him badly. It doesn't matter if they're not angry now, that can change. Lucan looks away quickly. “Oh, well, you don't have to. But you're dressed, that's good. I've made us both breakfast, if you want some. Come with me.”

Lucan crawls along behind Master until they reach the kitchen.

“Great. Great. Why don't you stay there while I sort out breakfast?”

Lucan stops by the door and waits, patiently, waiting for the trick and the pain, watching as Master bustles around the small kitchen, fetching bits and pieces. He wonders what they're going to do. Surely it can't be actual, good, solid food, he's done nothing to earn that. What's Master doing to give him?

_

Sam glances at Lucan intermittently as they prepare the food, doubling back to fetch cutlery. The faerie looks worried. Sam still has no idea what's going through his head, but at least they can provide him with a warm breakfast.

“Do you like eggs? I forgot to ask earlier.” Lucan nods and Sam smiles. “Excellent.” They busy themself with the toaster, then pour out a glass of milk, setting it on the floor beside the faerie. “You can drink that, if you want. I'm sorry, I didn't offer you anything last night, so you must be thirsty. I didn't mean to, it's just... last night was a lot. Anyway. Drink, if you like. There's nothing in it to hurt you.”

After a nervous glance up at them, Lucan takes the glass in both hands and sips at it, then seems to change his mind and downs the milk. He looks surprised.

“You really are thirsty, huh? Would you like some more?” Lucan nods and bows as Sam hands him another glass. He drinks that one in one gulp too. Sam smiles slightly and turns back to the eggs, placing one carefully in a garish novelty eggcup, talking to Lucan as they do so. They can't stop themself rambling.

“I wasn't sure how you eat them so I've cooked both eggs differently, there's a hardboiled one and a dippy egg with soldiers. I've cut the top off that one already because the only cutlery I have that won't hurt you is a plastic ice cream sundae spoon, no idea where from. Fine for the inside of the egg but it wouldn't cut through the shell. Oh, speaking of shells, I've left the one on the hardboiled egg, you can eat it with or without the shell. Um... I want you to eat it whichever way you prefer. It would... make me happy, if you did that.” Sam hopes they've phrased that enough like an order that Lucan will do it. It makes them uneasy but Lucan needs to eat. Once Lucan's breakfast is plated they pour a bowl of Coco Pops for themself, then carry both over to the table. “Will you sit up here and eat?” Lucan darts a glance up at Sam, then lowers it again and shakes his head. Sam carefully doesn't sigh. “Right. I'll just have to sit on the floor with you then.”

They sit down against the wall, balancing the bowl on their legs and placing Lucan's plate and the carton of milk in front of him. The faerie flinches.

Sam reaches up a hand, careful to keep it within Lucan's line of sight, and scratches his scalp. The faerie melts into it.

“You're good, Lucan. Wherever you choose to sit, you're good. I like sitting on the floor anyway, it's always good to have some floor time.” He nods towards the plate of eggs. “Go on. Eat. And feel free to pour yourself another drink if you want one, or just drink the milk from the carton.”

Lucan takes a tentative bite of the hard-boiled egg, shell and all, his face brightening as he seems to realise it's not going to hurt him. He eats it quickly, hunched over it slightly. Once Sam realises that he's definitely going to eat all his food, they start on their own. The coco pops are a bit soggy now, but still tasty.

Once they've both eaten, Sam stands, taking the faerie's empty plate and leaving it on the table with their own. Then they sit down opposite Lucan, who glances up at them tentatively before letting his gaze fall again.

“So. I think we should lay down some basic rules. Is that okay?” Lucan nods. “Okay. Good. So, firstly, you need to know that I will never rape you, or do anything to you sexually. I will never, ever hurt you like that, or let anyone else do so, and if anyone tries you're to tell me, Lucan, as soon as you can. Because raping you isn't acceptable. Understand?” He nods again. “Good. Good. That's the most important one. Okay, so the next rule is that I want you to eat at least twice a day. Three times would be ideal, but given how much it looks like you've been eating I'm not sure your body would be able to manage that. When was the last time you even ate solid food?” They pull out their phone and open the notes app, sliding it across the floor to Lucan. “Here. Write it down.”

Lucan takes the phone, thinking, and writes, New Year's Eve, Master.

Sam swallows. Christ. That was months ago, it's autumn now.

“Yeah. You definitely won't manage solid food three times a day. But I'm not buying you those shakes, they're disgusting and I very much doubt they're filling. We'll just have to build up to it. And you can just call me Sam.” Lucan bends his head, hands braced on the tiles. “Hey. I'm not going to punish you for not calling me Sam. You didn't know, and I imagine it's a big change. I bet you haven't called anyone by their name for years, have you?” Lucan shakes his head. “Thought so. I'm not cross, Lucan, I promise. Why don't you sit back up properly so we can finish going over the rules?”

Lucan obeys, sitting back on his heels, trembling slightly. Sam scratches his head.

“Good. That's good. You're okay Lucan, I won't hurt you.” When Lucan looks a little better, Sam withdraws their hand and sits back. “The next rule is that I want you to remind me to eat. I'm not very good at it. Come and fetch me when you're eating, no matter what I'm doing or what time it is. That rule doesn't apply if I'm not here, obviously. There's plenty of food in the cupboards and the fridge, you can eat anything you like. You can cook, too, if you like. Can you cook?” Lucan nods. “Great. I'm a terrible cook. That doesn't mean you have to, but if you want a cooked meal feel free to make one. Oh! You can fetch a drink whenever you like. There's milk in the fridge and squash in the bottom cupboard, and obviously water in the tap. Please drink whenever you like, I don't want you getting dehydrated. That starts from now, by the way. Umm...” Sam pauses. They didn't think this through ahead of time. They should have. What other rules can they give Lucan? “Okay. I want you to try standing or walking for at least ten minutes each day. I noticed last night that your muscles aren't used to standing, which is fine, so we'll build up the time from there until you can walk properly instead of crawling everywhere. But for now, I want you to do something on your feet for at least ten minutes a day. If you can't manage it in one block, don't worry, you can spread it out. Okay?” The faerie nods, looking slightly confused. Well, there's nothing Sam can do about that. “Good. The last rule then is that you can sleep and use the bathroom whenever you like. You don't need to ask my permission. I'm guessing that you probably have before, but you don't need to here. I often get distracted or have to go to work stuff and don't end up finishing until late, and I don't want you staying awake because you feel you have to wait for my permission.” Lucan nods, and Sam rubs his head, feeling awkward all of a sudden. “That's everything, I think. Sorry, I tend to ramble a lot when I'm nervous, or when I'm not actually too, but... did you get all that?”

_

Lucan nods firmly. Yes, he got it. He heard the rules, he knows what he has to do. He didn't hear what the punishments will be, though, but that's okay. Maybe Master... Master Sam likes to keep him on tenterhooks. Maybe they think Lucan will behave better if he doesn't know the punishment. That's okay, that's their right.

He knows what he has to do, but he doesn't understand. And he knows he doesn't need to but... these rules are so simple. There's so few of them. And they don't seem unpleasant at all. What's the point of them? What does Master Sam even want with him? They apparently don't want him for sex, and they haven't given him much to do... surely reminding them to eat and cooking sometimes can't be all they want him for? Why go to all the trouble of stealing him for that?

And why is Master Sam apologising? Everything Lucan's owner does is right, he knows that, they don't need to apologise.

Still. None of that matters. Master Sam will tell Lucan what he needs to know, when he needs to know it, and that's all that matters, 12735, you piece of faerie scum, stop trying to think like a person. So he nods, phantoms of electric shocks skittering over his skin.

“Good. Good.”

They look uncertain now and Lucan decides to test the rules. Master Sam didn't punish him for calling them by the wrong name earlier, they sat down with him and were... strange, and although he doesn't understand why they like to sit on the floor they haven't lied to him yet. So, feeling his thirst even more than he did before the first drink, heart pounding, he unscrews the carton of milk and carefully pours some out. With a quick glance at Master Sam, who nods encouragingly, he drinks it, determined to savour it this time. He doesn't know how long Master Sam will let him drink regularly for – maybe until he looks to their liking.

As soon as he puts the glass down, Master Sam reaches out, and Lucan flinches, expecting something painful from their muscular arms that could hurt a lot but haven't yet – they must be adding up their disobediences and hesitations so they can punish him for all of them efficiently, and maybe that time is now – but it doesn't hurt. All Master Sam does is scratch his scalp, and he melts.

“You did good, Lucan. You're okay. You're doing good, you're good. You always are.”

But is that last part praise or a threat? Lucan can't tell, and even though he can't help but lean into Master Sam's touch, it scares him. He'll have to do his best not to disobey so that threat doesn't become a promise.

Even though it inevitably will.

[iwriteaboutpain]

I created this blog mainly to get over my writer's block, but maybe it can become something interesting

I'll be posting one-shots and chapters for my stories.

Tropes I'm into

~ anything internal (bleeding, organ failure, ect.)

~ chronic illness

~ everything about bones and joints ~ head trauma

~ respiratory diseases

~ terminal disease (it has to be very specific)

~ stab wounds, gunshot wounds, ect... the basics

~ everything about stomach (stab it, shoot it, or just have tummy ache, I'll take it all)

~ caretaker being gentle and worried about whumpee (!!!)

I'm halfway done with this introduction and I just wanna say that tumbrls text editor sucks so much omfg.

Things I'm not into

~ whumper having a big role (i prefer things to happen naturally)

~ when there's no comfort

~ anything sexual (except for of course kissing, hugging and other light stuff)

~ and I think that's it

I have few separate plots I've already wrote chapters about. I'll describe them briefly here and give them hashtags

#momentsmusicaux ~ wlw story about two female musicians that fell in love with each other. Takes place in 1970'. One of them is of poor health, and the other is extremely caring over her. If anyone will guess who I based these two on, I'll be extremely surprised.

#millionyearsago ~ a vampire lady living her life since 1608. Tons of whump. And I mean it.

#slowestheart ~ ace detective with heart disease (yes this is based on Broadchurch).

#higherlove ~ another wlw. Military woman falls in love with a disabled doctor. Very briefly based on Top Gun Maverick. A lot of whump in it.

#takeiteasy ~ one day every single person on planet dissappears. Except for these two. This is actually the first thing I remember writing almost ten years ago. I'm going to change a lot of it, it's so bad.

And also I wrote some fanficton about

Once Upon A Time (of course Regina x Emma)

Thomas And Friends (yes.)

Lost

The Last of Us (Joel my beloved, he's so perfect for whump.)

And that's it! I'll start posting as soon as I reorganize everything in my notes.

Bye!

[whumpitlikeyoumeanit]

Whumpcember 20

All of this Whumpcember is a single, long fic, with the prompts used in specific scenes, in order. See the Masterlist and AO3 link here.

((content warnings: mind control, drugging, love potion, coerced relationship, jealousy, coerced marriage kinda ))

promptspiration: @whumpcember Day 20: Drugged

Whumpee: Draco Malfoy Whumper: Harry Potter Pairing: Harry/Draco whump type: mind control / love potion (Amortentia) fic type: post-Hogwarts AU

words: ~5000

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

The rain was dreary. He sat in the window, watching it distantly, not thinking about anything, not really feeling anything through the muffling grey curtain of his medicines. 

Harry surprised him when he came to join him; he didn't realise he was there before he felt a touch on his arm, and he slowly turned to look. Harry was actually almost smiling. He looked excited. 

"I have something for you to drink." He put his arm around his shoulders and squeezed, pressing a small bottle against his hand, faintly warm to the touch and containing a delicate, pearly liquid. "It took a while, but it's done." 

He picked up the bottle compliantly without giving it any consideration, but his hand slowed as it neared his face, and he found himself with his eyes closed, breathing in slow, deep breaths of the scent. It smelled of flowers, the lilies and narcissus of the gardens in spring… and the hint of orchid that clung to his mother from the flowers she arranged for the house, back when they had flowers, before the Death Eaters… and an undertone of the sugary frosting of a birthday cake, they were always far too sweet because that was what he'd liked when he was small…

A light touch on his wrist encouraged him to drink it, and he did. It tasted faintly of butterbeer and felt light and comforting going down, not like anything else he had to drink. This one didn't weigh him down or make him sick — on the contrary, it brought colour back into the world. 

He blinked up at Harry and couldn't help a bit of a smile and a flutter of his heart. "It's good, actually," he admitted, giving over the empty. 

"Yeah, you like it?"

"I do." He shifted around in the window to face him. "You don't have to work anymore, right?"

"No, now that's done I'm free." 

"Good." He laced his fingers into Harry's and let his hand hang from his.

"You want to do something?" Harry asked, with mildly bemused amusement, but he just shook his head. No, just being with him was enough. "Well, all right then. But I'm going to sit down." He stepped back, lightly pulling on Draco's hand. "You coming with me?" He nodded again, and slid out of the window to follow. 

They sat on the sofa, Harry with his book out for writing, and he just sat close to him with his head resting by Harry's shoulder. It was very nice. 

"You feel up to answering some questions for me?" Harry asked. It might have been a little bit, because then he asked, "You're still awake, right?" 

"Yes."

"I'll assume that answers both." Harry leaned his cheek against the top of his head briefly. "What did that potion smell like, to you?" he wondered curiously. 

"Don't know." Didn't seem important. 

"You don't know?"

He shrugged a little bit against Harry's shoulder. "Flowers and cake."

"Flowers and cake." Harry chuckled a little. "You try to act so hard but you're a surprisingly simple soul." 

Even that sounded like a good thing from Harry. "Why? What does it smell like to you?"

"You." Harry kissed his head and made him blush. "Do you feel okay?" 

"Yes."

"Hey." Harry nudged his side lightly so he opened his eyes. "Don't tell me any lies, okay? Do you hurt anywhere?"

He studied Harry to determine what kind of answer he wanted. The truth, maybe. "My head kind of hurts, but it's not so bad." 

"Any different from a little while ago?"

"It's a bit better. Your concoction had some effect." 

"That's good. What about your emotions?"

"What about them?" He settled back by Harry's shoulder and closed his eyes again. 

"How do you feel?" Harry held his hand on their legs. "Do you feel sad at all? …Tired?"

"No, what would I feel sad about? I feel really good." 

"Not scared?" 

He shook his head. Why would he be scared? As long as he had Harry, everything would be all right. 

"You don't have any idea how happy that makes me." Harry leaned his forehead against his head. "You have to tell me if you do get sad, or scared, or empty, okay? You have to promise." Harry was very intense; he lifted their hands together to nudge up his chin to make him meet his eyes. "Do you understand?"

"Yes." He didn't know why Harry was so insistent, but he didn't want him to be scared. He brushed the backs of his fingers over Harry's cheek. "But I can't imagine why I would be. Everything is all right." 

Harry smiled a little and kissed him slowly. Still embarrassing and a little gross, but Harry liked it, so he played along.

—-

That nice drink joined his routine. Not that he could really keep track of things like routine, but he noticed it was there and looked forward to it. It made everything nice. He could just sit with Harry and everything was okay. 

He did get sad when Harry had to leave him, though. He got mad he couldn't go with him and demanded he stay, because it was awful when he was gone. Horrible. It got so bad that Harry had to just make sure he slept the whole time, otherwise he couldn't handle it. 

But aside from that, it was really good. It was the best time of his life he could remember. As long as he could stay with Harry he didn't really have to worry about anything. He sat with him while he did research, or he mashed or chopped whatever Harry wanted him to for his brewing, or just napped against him. It was basically perfect. 

—-

"Draco…"

He lifted his head from the bed and looked. Harry was standing at the bureau, looking into the bottle cupboard. He had taken some of them out in front of him, including the horrible pink one, but now he was just looking distantly.

"Yes?" He was too sore to sit up if he didn't have to, but he watched him, running his finger down the tail of the dragon winding around his arm.

Harry continued to look at the bottles, and gradually pulled one out, looking at it in his hand. He couldn't see it through him. 

"I think I have to stop giving you this one."

What? No, he couldn't take it away. "Please, don't…" He pushed himself painfully up, holding his arms away from the burning skin of his chest so he didn't brush it and make it worse. "Why?" How could he fix it?

"It's… making you into someone else." He looked down at the bottle in his hand. "There's so much I love about you that I can't see anymore." 

He didn't like this. It was twisting up his stomach. Harry didn't love him? He left the bed and limped over to Harry without even trying to find his clothes, and held onto his arm anxiously. "Please…"

Harry looked back at him, his expression a little surprised, then turned and held onto his arm to help keep him up. He was holding the bottle with the drink that tasted like a poppy, and the relief felt like a physical thing. He almost collapsed against Harry's side, hugging him tight and resting his head against him. He'd thought he meant the little, nice-smelling one… the one that made everything better… He didn't care about the poppy one.

"I'm sorry." Harry tugged his head down gently and kissed it. "I know it helps you… believe me, I know. But it's taking away everything that makes you who you are. I love how smart you are… How quick, and sharp, and incisive — how you can see weak spots and just strike straight at them. I love your wit and your jokes and even your mockery. I love your energy, and how determined you are, and cunning and strategic, how you're just so… bright, brilliant, in every sense of the word. You shine, Draco. You're like the sun. And with this…" He looked down at it. 

He didn't even know what that one was for. He supposed it had never occurred to him to ask. "What is it?"

Harry ran his thumb over the glass bottle, and his hand ran over his hair. "You're going to be very cross with me when it's out of your system," he said. "But I did it for your own good." 

Something about that statement made him draw back a little, uncertain. He didn't like those words.

"It's for suppressing your memories." Harry pulled him closer again without seeming to notice. "It helps with your pain and your emotions, too, and I'm glad for it, but it's really for the memories. You have to understand, though. You needed it. I swear you did. I couldn't… I couldn't save you any other way."

"Save me?" He put his hand on his head, prodding the ache. 

"From yourself," he said quietly. "You hurt yourself awfully. Remember when you woke up and I took care of you until you could get out of bed? I said it was an accident, but… it wasn't. You… tried to kill yourself… it wasn't the first time…" 

That didn't make sense — he didn't want to die. That idea was frightening, he wouldn't do that. He held onto Harry's arm tightly. "Why…?"

"Because you're very sad." Harry looked into his face, and lifted a hand to cup the back of his head. "Your parents are dead, Draco, and they have been for a long time. That's the memory that keeps making you do awful things, because… they hurt you, they twisted up your mind so you feel like you can't live without them. You haven't thought about them in so long, and I love it, it's been wonderful to see you free of them, but this price… it isn't worth it." He looked back down at the bottle in his hand. "It's making you agreeable… complacent… docile and pleasant… It's basically made you a pet. I swear that isn't what I wanted." 

He frowned a bit, groping around with his mind, trying to hold onto that. "My parents died…?" 

Harry sighed. "Don't focus on it. I'm telling you now so that when the memory comes back on its own it doesn't make you too emotional. I don't want something bad to happen." Harry held his head, meeting his eyes. "But you don't need this protection anymore, right?" He set the poppy drink down. "Because you've promised you'll tell me how you feel, and I'll help you. You won't let your emotions go crazy alone and make you hurt yourself."

"No," he promised. "I won't. As long as I have you, it's all right." 

His parents were dead? It felt weird that hearing that didn't surprise him. It was like learning that this was Harry's house — it was something he knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, he just hadn't thought about it. It was sad, but it wasn't shocking, and the hurt felt old and achey, not new and sharp. He squeezed Harry's arm. "I'm all right," he repeated quietly. Harry made it okay.

"Good." Harry kissed his head again. "It might take a few days for this to wear off completely, but it'll be okay."

He believed him. He reached past Harry to bring out one of the small, nice-smelling bottles. "I can still have this one, right?"

Harry looked at what he had and smiled, wrapping his arms around him. "Of course. As much as you want."

—-

He got sick for a while — he spent so much time throwing up, in agony from the cramps of his already painful stomach, sweating without a fever, often leaking tears for no reason that he couldn't stop. The awful pink drink didn't help it — instead, he ended up not even being able to keep it down, so his cough started coming back, and that made everything so, so much worse… He just wanted to sleep through it, but it was a crapshoot whether he could keep the Sleeping Draughts down, and even when he could he woke up suddenly shortly thereafter… the Calming Draught and the Pain ones were similar, so his head hurt and his skin hurt and his emotions were all over the place, leaving him crying or raging at the unfairness of it all…

The only thing he could reliably keep from throwing right back up were the gentle, nice flowery drink, and that was the only thing that made being alive bearable. If he hadn't had those, and Harry, he didn't know what he would do. 

But Harry stayed with him the whole time, and it did, eventually, get better. Eventually there was a day when he didn't throw up at all, and he could start to eat again, and things gradually picked up from there. First he could have small doses of the pain relief, and then slowly start on the pink ones again, calming his cough and the fever that came with it. Then, finally and yet seemingly suddenly, things were completely back to normal, and it was like the sickness had never happened at all. 

He found that the memories that had apparently been suppressed were there for him, now, if he wanted them. They were there, but unconnected, isolated, and he had to actively try for them to find them. He honestly had no idea what order anything went in — and, to be honest, it didn't really seem important. He didn't dwell on them. 

Harry's fears about them seemed unfounded; he was okay.

—-

He dropped heavily onto the sofa at Harry's side, holding his stomach and holding in a groan from it. That didn't really matter, though, that was just part of being alive. "Would you like to grow my hair back out?"

"What's that?" Harry looked up from his notebook and settled his arm around him. 

"My hair." He leaned on Harry so that his elbow was propped on Harry's shoulder and he was looking at him, fingers pulling at strands of his hair. It was fine and short, maybe a little over an inch, short enough to be impossible to style, but now long enough for him to worry about it. "You liked it long enough to tie back, didn't you?"

"Oh, yeah, I do actually." Harry shifted so he could also run his fingers through his hair, looking at him. 

"And it's not as though this is doing me any favours." He gestured generally at his face. 

"It's not that bad," Harry assured him. "But you're right, it's not 'you'. All right, I'll pick up a ribbon next time—"

He lifted the ribbon he'd retrieved from his room, pinched between his thumb and only finger.

Harry laughed a bit. "You really hate that hairstyle, don't you? Okay then." He flipped his book closed and set it aside, moving about to pull his arm back and get his wand. While Harry did that, he shifted as well to face him, waiting attentively.

Harry touched him just under the jaw lightly, wand propped up near his cheek, and his fingers stroked lightly over his skin. "The shave-free charm is still holding strong."

"It is," he agreed. "And I appreciate it. Although I have been meaning to ask: did you actually mean it to affect my whole body?"

Harry shrugged a tiny bit. "That wasn't the intent, but I knew it might. I suppose I could have done more to restrict it, but I had enough trouble with your eyebrows, didn't I."

"I suppose you did. I'm used to it." He ran his hand up his freakishly smooth arm, where the sleeve was rolled up to show the bottom the dragon brand that Harry appreciated seeing. "I was just curious what it might reflect upon you. Lack of attention to detail, apparently."

"Hey, my 'attention to detail' is about to try to fix your hair." Harry waved his wand in his face.

He folded his hands politely in his lap. "Forget I said anything." 

Harry grinned, then took on a look of concentration and started growing out his hair. He wasn't capable of sitting and waiting patiently to see what Harry had done; very shortly he was feeling his hair as Harry grew it and giving him direction on the fringe that might make him look less cadaverous. 

When he was finished, or tired of his nitpicking, Harry tied the ribbon behind his neck and kissed him. "There, gorgeous." 

"You're being overly generous." Once upon a time he had been good looking, but now he just looked ill and drawn. It was still nice to hear something nice, though, even if it was just politeness. Would actually mean something if he earned it, though… He felt his hair one last time, then turned and leaned against Harry's side. "But feel free to continue."

"I'm not. You're the most beautiful Pureblood in this house."

He laughed and picked up his hand to give it a squeeze. He did appreciate that. 

—-

"You really don't care about sex, do you?" 

He had his head on Harry's knee and a book about enchanting items he was trying to read, but mostly not, lying on his chest. He tilted his head back to look up at Harry's face, displacing fingers from his hair. "Why?"

Harry laced his fingers through his lightly. "I've given you Amortentia and you still don't initiate anything." 

That made him laugh. "You absolute ass," he said fondly, squeezing his hand. "Amortentia? I can't imagine how much of your vault you've wasted. Were you trying to make me love you?" He smirked up at him.

Harry met his eyes. "Do you hate that idea?"

He shook his head faintly with a small smile. "You should have known that wouldn't work on me." 

Harry smiled softly and ran his fingers through his hair.

—-

Harry settled onto the sofa beside him, sliding his hand neatly between him and the book he was trying to read, and kissed at his neck. It was a bit annoying — the not-completely-pleasant crawling feeling of the mouth on his skin, but moreso the book. He was actually getting into the analysis of enchantment strength and didn't want to waste his rare bout of being able to focus. 

He leaned his head away and shifted the book so he could see his page. 

Harry playfully flipped the book closed — he luckily got his fingers between the pages so he wouldn't lose his place, albeit mostly on accident — and slid his hand under his shirt, a barely tolerable feeling, while trying to kiss him again.

He ducked his head away. "I really don't care about this, you know, you're right. Have I said that before?"

"Mm." Harry ran his fingers down his stomach. 

"Frankly, it's all just a bit…" Hm, how to say 'tedious' and 'gross' without Harry taking that as an insult? "Well, anyway, I think you'll find things like that aren't really necessary." He got the book between him and Harry's arm and pushed lightly to tell him to get off.

Harry laughed and clearly didn't notice his hints. "They really are."

He scoffed. "They aren't."

Harry nudged him under the chin to look in his face. "I really don't think I could live like that."

He narrowed his eyes in a sudden spike of offence that either overwhelmed or subsumed the irritation. "So why am I not enough for you?"

Harry blinked several times and went still. "What?" 

He pushed himself up to his feet, getting Harry's hand off him, and looked at him directly. "You couldn't live like that? Like this? With me." 

"I didn't say that…"

"You literally just did. You can't live without it. You would rather have that than me."

"I didn't say that!" Harry grabbed for his hand, but he yanked it back. "Why is this an either-or proposition? Where is this coming from?" 

"You're the one who said it, not me," he snapped. "I'm here, but that's not enough, you 'need' to taint everything with that." 

"'Taint everything', what?" The look on his face was uncomprehending and helpless and thoroughly irritating, like he was staring down a bludger heading for him and didn't have the sense to duck. 

He turned to pace just to get away from Harry's stupid face and entitled hands. "I'm sure you'll be absolutely shocked to learn that it's actually not that I don't 'care about' this, it's that I 'don't care for' it. I actively and aggressively dislike it. I hate it! The absolute best I can hope for is that it's terribly boring and wastes my time."

He turned back to find Harry on his feet now too, watching him with a furrowed brow. "You can't actually find making love 'boring'."

"Only when it isn't nauseating, demeaning, painful, or frightening." It was getting harder to find the right words for what he meant to say, his mind was closing in, but those simple terms even Harry should be able to understand. 

"Sex isn't any of those things!"

"No?" he retorted. "Maybe it's just you, then."

Harry slapped him hard enough he stumbled over and fell to his knees, and that wasn't a terribly surprising reaction. It just made him madder; there was a flash of fear and coil of guilt, but the anger was stronger. 

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Harry demanded as he climbed back to his feet, glaring. Harry didn't help. 

"You! I should be enough for you! You're enough for me, why am I not good enough?" There were tears pricking at his eyes and he didn't even know if they were from sadness or embarrassment or frustration or anger. 

"You are, Draco!" Harry held his arms and looked at him earnestly. "I'd never intentionally hurt you. You don't have to not like it. If you don't enjoy it, tell me and we can do something so you can. A small dose of Attraction Extraction isn't any trouble." 

He squirmed until Harry was forced to let him go, and staggered a step back. "I can't believe you would suggest…" he groped around for a word in helpless frustration until he had to give up, "something like that!" He jerked around, spotted the door, and suddenly wanted nothing more in life than to go out it.

"Where are you going?" Harry demanded, and grabbed his wrist.

He shook his hand vigorously  until he got free and yanked open the door. "Away!"

"Why are you acting like this? I thought you loved me." 

"Stop thinking you know how to manipulate people," he snapped on his way out. "You're just embarrassing yourself." And he slammed the door behind him with an unsatisfactory awkwardness.

It was difficult to storm anywhere when he had to limp along the walls and got lost between doorways, but he gave it a valiant effort anyway. He didn't mean to go to the kitchen but that was where he found himself, and that failure made him feel helplessly worse, like a failure on top of all his other failures. He couldn't even do that right. He wiped his eyes roughly as he paced around clumsily, feet aching and not quite steady, angry with himself again for how graceless he was. 

Why wasn't he good enough? He did a lot! Why did Harry need more? He kissed him a lot, or what he thought was a lot, and that wasn't for him, that was for Harry, because that was what a good… whatever they were… did. He didn't complain when Harry touched him in ways that hurt his stupid burning skin or his stupid achy bones, or that his body didn't really like, because his body wasn't Harry's responsibility. He normally didn't decline whatever Harry had in mind when they went to bed, especially if he just wanted hands. Why wasn't it enough? Why couldn't Harry just be as happy with him as he was with Harry?

Harry acted like he never did anything for him, but he did! He was just quiet about it, like one should be. He was allowed to not like something, wasn't he? 

He had been meaner than he should have been. He hadn't meant everything he said, he was just lashing out where he knew it would hurt… He shouldn't have done that…

He collapsed at the table with his hands over his head, crying a little, and soon enough exhausted. Now the anger abandoned him and it was just crushing hopelessness and guilt. Why wasn't he good…?

Harry came in — he heard it — and there was a touch on his back, and the sound of a bottle on the table. He lifted his head and saw a Calming Draught, and put his head back down. "I don't need it." 

"Okay." Harry rubbed his hand over his shoulder and pulled him against his body. He resisted for a second, then turned and hugged his waist, burying his face in his chest. 

"I didn't mean it," he said, muffled in the fabric of Harry's shirt and the muscle beneath. "You  know that, right? Sometimes you just make me crazy…"

Harry hugged him tight against him, rubbing his back. "I know exactly how you feel." 

—-

The arithmancy was simple:

Harry wanted enthusiastic sex he didn't.

Harry was gone a lot for work.

Harry Sainted Potter could pull anyone he wanted. 

He couldn't think about anything else. That collection of facts and the natural conclusion they led to were boiling in his mind, surfacing and resurfacing, mixing together, swirling and throwing themselves at him. He cried in desperate fear and loneliness, but anger came as it continued to stew and intensify. 

When he found a sandwich waiting for him by the door and he realised Harry must be home and finished, but was still ignoring him, that set him off. That was it. He was going to put a stop to this. He stalked out of the room and down the stairs, eventually. He didn't know where he was going but the frustration of being slow and not finding Harry actually fed his anger and he carried stubbornly on. 

Harry finally appeared in the hallway, like he was just coming in, still with his wand out to manage the door, and he looked up with a stupid, blank expression, looking so innocent…

"Who is it?!" he demanded. His voice was shrill, even he could hear it, but not out of control. 

Harry stared at him. "...What?"

"Who is it?" Now he was screaming. "Who do you have out there? Is it a witch? Did you go back to that fucking Weasley cunt?" 

"What?" Harry was still playing dumb and he desperately wished he had a wand, he would curse that fucking look off his face—

Harry suddenly flew back like he'd been struck or cursed, and cried out as he hit the door; he rolled off it and scrambled to yank off his shirt, panting. The skin of his back was red. "Draco!"

"You don't get to leave me!" Harry was crowded against the wall, burning door on one side and him on the other, holding his shirt out to hold him off like he thought he was going to hit him. But at least he couldn't leave. "She can't have you! You're mine!"

"Draco!" Harry grabbed him by the upper arms and pushed him a step back so he could get away from the door. "I haven't!"

"Don't lie to me!" Now he was crying too, and it was ugly and he hated looking that weak in front of Harry, but the emotions just had to get out. He clung to Harry's arms. "I know why you're always gone!" 

"I'm not." Harry wrapped his arms firmly around him — he tried to pull away, but Harry was implacable, and held him tight against his chest. In a moment, he stopped trying to resist and leaned his head on Harry's instead. 

He didn't smell of anyone else. There was just the normal, slightly acrid brewing scent clinging to him. It was reassuring.

"Shh. I'm here." Harry ran his hand down his hair. "I can see you're exhausted, come on." He half-led, half-supported him down the hall. Even the sight of the starry room didn't fix everything — it made him feel calmer, but at the same time those desperate feelings were sharper, more intense, and he clung to Harry's arm with all his strength. He thought he saw him wince. 

Harry sat on the sofa with him, pulling them apart so they could look at each other in the starlight. "You're all right." He ran his hand down his hair again, looking into his face. "Are you better now?"

"No." He clung to him and stared, unwilling to even take his eyes off him. 

"I guess not." Harry met his eyes sincerely. "Do you really believe I've gone out chasing after someone else?"

He didn't answer, because he didn't know if he believed it or not, but he was terrified of it.

Harry held his jaw. "I haven't. I wouldn't. Do you believe me?"

"I want to."

"I promise."

"A promise is just words," he said sharply. "Worthless. I don't need meaningless words, I need a vow."

Harry blinked at him. "Are you serious? Unbreakable Vow?"

"Yes." He hadn't even thought of this before, certainly not planned it, but he seized on it now. "That's the only way I'll be able to know for certain."

Harry's thumb stroked along his cheek. "Mutual?" he said. "I'll swear to you, and you'll swear to me." 

"Yes. Of course." 

"All right." Harry took his hand back and brought back out his wand. "You are going to have to let go of me for a min." 

He looked down at his hand clutched around Harry's arm and made himself let go. It felt so wrong, but at the same time he realised that his hand hurt from holding onto him.

They clasped hands, his whole one and Harry's free one, while Harry's wand propped beneath them and began to glow as he cast the spell silently. The golden light of the nascent Vow resisted the gentle starlight from above. 

"You go first," Harry murmured.

He glanced to his face and held his eyes. "Do you swear to never forsake me?"

"I swear," Harry said without hesitation, meeting his eyes without guile or reluctance. The golden light from his wand bloomed into a ribbon that stretched upward and wrapped around their hands. 

Harry spoke next to take his turn. "Do you swear you will never betray me?" 

The thought had never occurred to him. The idea made his heart hurt. "I swear." 

A second ribbon of golden magic wound its way around their hands. 

They needed a third vow for the spell to be properly completed. They should actually have had a third person, a witness, but that wasn't as integral as the three questions and three answers. He admired Harry's face lit from below with gold and above with silver, and ached at the thought of anyone else seeing it. "Do you swear you will never have anyone else but me?"

Harry smiled. "I swear. I never have wanted to." 

The final band of gold leapt up from the wand and bound their hands together. Now the light of the Vow was completely overpowering the light of the stars.

Harry kissed him, and by the time he pulled back the light of the magic had faded and they were only sat on the couch, holding hands. Harry smiled at him. "Better?"

"Yes." He held the back of Harry's head, resting their foreheads together, and for the first time in it seemed like ever the fist of fear unclenched from around his heart and he could breathe. Harry was his, no one else's, Harry could never leave him… 

Harry lifted his hand and kissed the tail of the dragon there, then turned it palm up and sat up straight with his wand out. "One last thing." He gestured at their hands, and a gold ring was conjured in his palm. 

He laughed just a little, an embarrassed sound, and turned his face. "You aren't serious." 

"Very." He picked up the ring and waited a second for him to offer his hand, then slid it on his ring finger. It fit perfectly. "Your memory problems — I don't want you to forget in the heat of the moment and get distressed. Now, if you're alone, because I'm working or anything, you can see this and remember." Harry wrapped his arms around him and kissed his head. He leaned comfortably against him and held out his hand to look at the ring in the starlight. How could his chest go from tight and cold to so full, so suddenly? 

"We're bound together forever," Harry murmured. "No one's ever taking me away from you."

[whumpberry-cookie]

Happy ending

(Caretaker + Whumpee, Comfort, Caretaking Caretaker)

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

The soft orange light of the setting sun lay on the walls of the train compartment. It was lighting up Caretaker's hair giving it a luminous red hue. It was peaceful, quiet and sleepy.

Caretaker was looking nervously around the platform outside the window when the train's quiet whistle sounded and it started moving forward slowly, smoothly. Whumpee should be here by now. What had happened? Was he late? Had he oversleep? Had something bad happened? Caretaker's stomach began to tighten from nerves. He was already considering calling him when the compartment door slid open.

"Oh, here you are!"

"Hello!" Whumpee squeezed into the compartment with hiking backpack almost bigger than him. He struggled with it for a moment to arrange it on the shelf. Caretaker stood up and reached over to help.

"No! No, no! I've got it" Whumpee assured. The luggage landed steadily on the shelf. He turned to Caretaker, grinning and proud. He embraced him in a joyful hug "Now that's a proper hello. Did you eat supper already?"

"No, not really, Whumpee. Too many things to do before I left...." Actually Caretaker didn't eat anything yet that day. He always was the planning one, while Whumpee was more spontanic. "Did I turn the gas stove off? Shit, did I turn it off?!"

Whumpee giggled "I'm sure you checked about four times," then he pulled a paper bag from his luggage. "Here, pick a sandwich. You'll have to check, some are with white cheese, chives and radish and others are with apricot jam."

Caretaker chose the one with jam "Is that why you ran onto the train at the last minute?"

"Not at the last minute, I was inside before. I'm getting into Responsibly-Settling-Things-Mambo-Jambo. I went to the motorman to ask about the length of the stops. At the fifth station, the leading lineup changes, so the break may be long enough to get a coffee on the platform"

"Sounds great!" Caretaker approved and almost started to eat, but the sandwich stopped halfway to his mouth. "Wait. No. I need to go buy the tickets."

"I did yesterday"

"Did you reserve the seats or- someone would want-"

"I did. Sit back down and eat now, seriously"

"But- did you check when to get off?"

"Yup, did"

"I'll better set the alarm in case we fall asleep" He reached for the phone, but Whumpee put his hand gently over his palm.

"Caretaker, everything's alright. This time is for you to fully relax and not worry about a single thing. Let me take care of everything this time"

Caretaker took a deep breath, let the air out slowly. The nerves began to leave him, and in their place came relaxation.

"Fine, I trust you"

"Let's sit down now and enjoy the view.... It's been a while since we last ate a normal meal at a normal time together"

They ate sandwiches together sipping tea from a thermos. Whumpee leaned his head against Caretaker's shoulder and they sat cuddled together under a warm blanket, listening to music sharing headphones. The landscape shifted outside the window, city buildings gave way to rural chapels, then hills and wild forests. The light of the sun warmed the evening sky, slowly taking on pink hues.

They were leaving behind all the painful memories. Everything familiar. They set out hoping to find a happy place to start all over again.

"Caretaker"

"Hmm?" he murmured half-asleep.

"I'm happy to start the new chapter with you"

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