#bthb pleading

[devirnis]

Don't Listen When I Scream

Rating: M Relationships: Evan Buckley/Eddie Diaz Word count: 10.9k Cover art by @ronordmann

The man shoves Buck into the chair. Picking a hunting knife up from the tray, he points it at Eddie. “If you fight back or try to escape, I will slit his throat before you can even blink. Understand?” Buck’s eyes cut to Eddie, wide and fearful. Eddie shakes his head vehemently, but he already knows it’s pointless. Buck is going to endure whatever this sick fuck has planned for him because Eddie would do the exact same thing in his position if he thought there was the slightest chance it would spare Buck. Still, Eddie pleads with his eyes, trying to tap into their wordless communication that Buck should fight to get free, to not just sit there and take it. But Buck just stares back at him with grim determination, and Eddie feels his heart sink. Looking back at their captor, Buck nods. BTHB: forced to watch

(read on ao3)

[leothil]

can you recommend some long eddie whump fics?

Hi! Sorry, it took me a bit longer to get to this than I intended. I'm probably not the best person to ask for whump recs from as it isn't my first choice of genre, but I'll see what I can come up with. This fandom is also heavily buck-whump oriented, so I'm afraid not all of them will be that long.

Leave the Light On (I'll Be Coming Home) by HMSLusitania The one, the only! Amnesia, presumed deaddie, what more could you want! 44.4k words, rated M

dead reckoning by euadnes A helicopter crash leaves Buck, Eddie, and Ravi stranded in the wilderness. Technically whump for all three of them but /shrug! 28k words, rated M

something fiercer (something softer) by renecdote In which Eddie gets hurt during a call. Established relationship. This author has written a lot of BTHB fics, so you can look through that tag on her profile for more! 2.5k words, rated T

I'm still standing in the same place where you left me standing by trysetmeonfire Bobby POV. Eddie and Bobby are trapped together and Eddie is in really bad shape. He tells Bobby he loves Buck, because he needs Buck to know. 8.3k words, rated T

i'd spend a lifetime giving you my heart by hammersmiths Where they meet in the earthquake when they get trapped in the same space under the hotel. Again a whump for both of them, but it's Buck POV so he's more focused on Eddie. 10.4k words, rated T

dreaming, given a name by colonoscopys Eddie gets badly hurt, and Buck pleads with God and the universe to let him wake up, while also having to handle Eddie's family. 8.5k words, rated T

The rest I found in my log were more hurt/comfort than whump so I'll leave the list like this! Hope there are at least some new fics for you on here!

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Hi Cal!

I'm super stoked for your BTHB! I'm also titillated about what Athena noticed in your last snippet for the whodunnit...

As if that weren't enough, I'm doing the pre-season rewatch and just saw the episode with the baby box this evening, so I'm also looking forward to seeing how the boys handle it together in the switcheroo.

🚨🚨🚨🚨

🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷

☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️

🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨

🫶🏼, ~Maxi

HI MAXI!

THANK YOU SO MUCH!

12 for 🚨:

---

“I’m sorry you didn’t save those other people,” Chris whispers. “But you saved me.”

Buck takes a deep breath. His eyes are glued to Christopher. 

“And I get to be alive,” Chris says. “And live here, with you. And you get to be my second dad. So that’s good, right?”

He asks the last part in the tiniest, most hopeful voice Eddie has ever heard. Like he’s terrified to hear, no, sorry, it’s not enough. Eddie looks at Buck with pleading eyes. Don’t turn him away right now. 

---

27 for 🦷:

---

Eddie drops his hand to his side stiffly, embarrassed. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles. 

Christopher’s mouth shifts to the side strangely; an expression Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever seen him make before. Like he’s holding his jaw at a very uncomfortable angle, teeth all out of alignment. 

“You have a mustache,” Christopher says. 

“Yeah,” Eddie replies, raising his hand to touch it a little self-consciously.

“Why do you have a mustache?” He asks.

Question of the damn month.

“Uh, I don’t know.” A lie. Great start, Eddie. “I needed a change, I guess.”

“It looks sort of weird,” Chris says.

Eddie tries not to sigh. “That’s what Chimney says, too.”

“What does Buck say?” Chris asks. 

A tiny smile finds its way to Eddie’s mouth. 

“He likes it,” Eddie replies. 

“Okay, well don’t do that stupid thing where you twirl the endings,” Chris warns. 

“I won’t,” Eddie promises. Not even a thought in his mind, truly. “Uh, you ready to go home?”

It’s a loaded question, Eddie knows. But he doesn’t mean it more generally. He just means, is Chris ready to get out of this damn airport.

---

27 for ☠️:

---

“I’m just hoping Maddie and Chimney are having a good time on their vacation,” Athena says. “They really deserve it, don’t you think?”

Bobby smiles. “Yeah. They really do.”

vi.

The next day, Athena does the only thing she can think to do. The only thing that feels right. 

She gives Hen a chance. 

Of all the members of the 118 implicated in Gerrard’s death - as far as Athena and only Athena knows - Hen is the one she feels she owes the most benefit of the doubt. They’ve been close friends for over a decade. They know each other very well. They trust each other. So she has to give Hen a chance to dispel Athena’s doubts. 

Then she will decide how to move forward. 

She arrives at Hen and Karen’s without warning. She doesn’t want to give them a chance to prepare. Consult with Buck and Eddie. Though maybe they already have, given the grocery store run-in. Regardless, Athena wants their most spontaneous reaction possible. 

“Athena?” Karen asks, eyes wide, when she opens the door. “Did you and Hen have plans?”

“No,” Athena replies. Karen’s hesitation at seeing her is answer enough. “I was hoping to talk to her though. Is she home?”

Karen nods quickly. “Yeah, she is.”

---

15 for 🚨:

---

“I’m sorry,” he says to Christopher. “I know. You’re right, buddy. That’s so… That’s so good.” 

Eddie exhales, relieved.

“Do you remember what you said?” Chris asks him.

Buck pulls out of the hug a little to look at him.

“When?” He asks shakily.

“During the tsunami,” Chris clarifies.

“What did I say?” Buck asks. He looks like he really isn’t sure what Christopher remembers. 

[unforgivenn]

UUUU id be curious to see the "You can scream all you want" prompt from the bthb!!! <3

Decided to do this for Noah baby because I haven't played with him for a long time :)

SHACKLED BY ROYALTY MASTERLIST

CW: Violence, suicidal thoughts, abuse, dehumanizing words, psychological and physical torment, emotional distress

Noah lay on the cold stone floor, his heart pounding in his chest as he tried to catch his breath. He knew Andrey would be here soon, and the fear gnawed at his insides like a ravenous beast. He had messed up again, made a mistake that would cost him dearly. His hands trembled as he wiped away the tears that blurred his vision.

The door creaked open, and Noah's heart skipped a beat. Andrey stepped inside, his face a mask of cold fury. He shut the door behind him, the sound echoing through the room like the tolling of a death knell.

Noah tried to stand, but his legs were weak, and he stumbled, falling back to the floor. He looked up at Andrey, his eyes wide with fear. "P-please, Andrey," he stammered, his voice barely more than a whisper.

As if with lightning speed, Andrey slapped Noah across the face, harder than he had ever been before. He fell down on the hard tiles making him scream. He felt as if his nose was broken. The way it started bleeding now probably meant it did.

"How many times?" Andrey interrupted, as he lifted Noah up by the hair forcing eye contact.

Noah's heart sank. What was he saying?

"H-Huh?"

Irritation was obvious through Andrey's face. Another slap connected with his cheek, and the sheer intensity of it made his ears ring. "How many fucking times have I told you to call me 'sir'? A child would've understood by now!"

Noah's mind raced. "I'm sorry, sir," he managed to choke out.

"Shut up! And that's not even it, you know?! It's as if no matter how much I try to go easy on you, you just fucking keep disobeying me. But no more of it now." Noah flinched violently from the anger in Andrey's voice. He had never seen him this angry.

Andrey took a step closer, his eyes gleaming with a sadistic light. "You think you can disobey me and get away with it, pet?" he snarled. "You think your pathetic excuses will save you?"

Noah shook his head frantically, his body trembling. "No, Sir, please... I'll do better, I swear..."

Andrey's fist came down hard, striking Noah across the face. The force of the blow sent him sprawling to the ground, his head ringing with pain.

"Pathetic," Andrey spat.

He wasn't so sure why that had made him cry. He had taken much worse. So why.. like this..?

Noah tasted blood in his mouth, the coppery tang mixing with the salt of his tears. He tried to push himself up, but Andrey was on him in an instant, kicking him in the ribs. The pain was excruciating, a white-hot explosion that left him gasping for breath.

"Get up," Andrey commanded, his voice like ice.

Noah struggled to his feet, his body screaming in protest. He stood there, swaying unsteadily, his eyes locked on Andrey's, pleading silently for mercy. But there was none to be found in those cold, dark eyes.

Andrey grabbed him by the collar, lifting him off the ground and slamming him against the wall. "You always think you can get away with whatever you do, don't you?" he hissed, his breath hot against Noah's face.

Noah's vision blurred with tears as he shook his head violently, as if that would stop the cruel torment.

But Andrey wasn't listening. He drew back his fist and punched Noah in the stomach, driving the air from his lungs. Noah doubled over, gasping for breath, but Andrey didn't give him a chance to recover. He punched him again, and again, each blow sending waves of agony through Noah's body.

"Beg," Andrey demanded, his voice cold and hard. "Beg for mercy, you worthless little worm."

Noah fell to his knees, his body wracked with pain. "Please," he gasped, his voice hoarse and desperate. "Please, sir, I-I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."

And he was sorry. He hated how much he wanted to crawl at Andrey's feet, he hated how he meant every word he said, he hated that he wanted beg for mercy. He hated He hated He hatedhehatedhehated-

God, he hated himself.

Andrey kicked Noah in the chest, sending him sprawling to the floor. Noah curled up into a ball, trying to protect himself from the blows, but it was no use. Andrey was relentless, his fists and feet a blur of motion as he rained down blow after blow.

Noah's world was a haze of pain and fear, his mind a chaotic jumble of thoughts.

Why? Why was this happening? What had he done to deserve such cruelty? He had wondered that a lot of times but there was never any answer expect pain pain pain and pain.

He could hear the sickening crunch of bone, feel the searing pain of torn flesh, but it was the terror that consumed him, the knowledge that there was no escape, no salvation.

Noah's voice was a broken sob as he pleaded. "Please, please... oh god.."

But Andrey's rage was unquenchable. He grabbed Noah by the hair, yanking him to his feet and slamming him against the wall again. Noah's head cracked against the stone, a sharp pain shooting through his skull. He felt dizzy, his vision swimming, but Andrey didn't give him a moment's respite.

He punched Noah in the face, the force of the blow snapping his head back. Noah's nose exploded with pain, blood gushing down his face. He tried to scream, but no sound came out, only a strangled cry.

Andrey's hands were everywhere, grabbing, hitting, hurting. He punched Noah in the stomach, kicked him in the ribs, slapped him across the face. Noah's body was a canvas of pain, every nerve on fire, every movement a fresh wave of agony.

Noah's world was a blur of pain and fear. He could barely think, barely breathe, his body a mass of bruises and broken bones. He tried to scream, to beg for mercy, but his voice was a hoarse whisper, lost in the storm of Andrey's rage.

Andrey grabbed him by the throat, lifting him off the ground and slamming him against the wall. Noah's vision covered with black spots, his breath cut off, the pain a white-hot explosion that consumed him.

"You will-"

Fuck. He couldn't breathe. He didn't even process his hands going up to claw at Andrey's face, hands, literally anything to make him let go of his fragile neck.

-learn your place."

He couldn't breathe. He couldn't see either now. What was happening?

"You will-" The words were becoming too wrapped now. "learn.."

There was a strange ringing in his ears now. What was he saying?

"to obey."

Noah's body went limp, his mind slipping into darkness. He could feel the life draining out of him, the pain fading into a distant echo.

He was dying. He was sure of it. And he was ready to welcome it now. Death had become a long-lost friend with everything he went through.

When Andrey released him, letting him fall to the ground in a crumpled heap, he had been almost disappointed. Just a few more seconds and maybe Noah would've been free from the torture.

Noah lay there, gasping for breath, his body a wreck of pain and terror. He could barely think, barely move, his mind a haze of agony and fear.

Andrey stood over him, his face a mask of cold fury. "You will learn your place," he repeated, his voice a low growl. "You will learn to obey."

His hands were still clawing at his throat, still feeling the unforgiving fingers on them. He could only manage a small nod.

But Andrey's eyes were hard, his heart a stone. "You can scream all you want," he said, his voice cold and merciless. "No one will hear you. No one will come to save you."

And a broken sob escaped Noah, because he knew it was true. Because he knew that no matter what, no matter how much Noah would beg and plead and pray. And oh lord, did he pray. Noone was coming for him. And even if they did, how did it matter anyways?

How did anything matter now?

Shackled by Royalty Taglist: @miireux134/ @nuriiz134/ @noeul-whumpsss/ @morning-star-whump/ @parasitebunny/ @anutz1234/ @whatwasmyprevioususername/ @whumped-by-glitter/ @lordcatwich/ @someoneoninternettt/ @natthebatt/ @noeul-whumpppssssss1234/

@electrons2006/ @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @lolrpop(let me know if you want to be added, removed or only be tagged in teh main series :D)

[blackberry-bloody]

Masterlist

This is a masterlist for my written content!

And if you like any of these, I have a Discord server that I'm working on putting content in! It's pretty chaotic, but it's fun!

While there is some overlap between series, since they all take place within the same universe, they can be read independently of each other.

Also, Stay down, doesn't really have an order to be read in, It's very up in the air and a bit jumbled. So while some context may be lost, it can essentially be read in any order (as it stands right now. This may change later.)

Meet my ocs-

Meet Mibium

Meet Berkley

Series-

Pick Your Poison:

Masterlist

A Choose your own adventure whump story where the player/reader is the whumpee to a mad scientist.

Contains: Lab whump, creepy whumper, paranoia and gaslighting, horror elements.

Characters: Berkley, Mx. Doe, Rain, Marley

Stay Down:

Dayzel's half- A somewhat jumbled story of Dayzel, a demon, and the multiple bouts of whumping he has endured throughout his life.

Contains: Living weapon whump, villain whumpee/outcast whumpee, whumper x whumpee, spousal abuse, manipulation/gaslighting, defiant whumpee, self-loathing whumpee

Characters: Dayzel, Mibium, Rupert, Nox, various background characters from flashbacks.

Nox Marking him

BTHB Pleading

"Have You come to Laugh at me in my miserable state?"

Unforgivable

Sensory Deprivation

Zapping

Dayzel's rescue pt.1

Dayzel's rescue pt.2

Sleep

Mibium's half- A "spinoff" in flashbacks about Mibium's time as a whumpee in Hell as an angel.

Contains: Creepy/intimate whumper, pet whump, objectification/dehumanization

Characters: Mibium and Octavian

BTHB Chained to a bed

BTHB Blindfolded

BTHB Non-con Touching

Overstimulated and Carewhumper

Half Lies and Hidden Truths:

Masterlist

Three connected stories, told separately through The Heart, The Mind, and The soul.

(Content and characters in masterlist)

Snake Bite:

Whumper Berkley- A story detailing his experiments on his two main whumpees, with some flashbacks to a previous whumpee.

Contains: Lab whump, horror tropes, multiple whumpees, lots of character death (non of the major characters, and offscreen/implied)

Characters: Berkley, Rain, Marley, Mindy (mentioned but not present)

Quiet and Lament Prompts

Whumpee Berkley- An "epilogue"/"spinoff" where he is captured by a demon when he's forced to visit Hell.

Contains: Creepy/Intimate whumper, whumper x whumpee, Stockholm syndrome, whumper turned whumpee, nsfwhump (any chapter involving this will be posted to @blackberry-sour-and-sweet)

Characters: Berkley, Octavian

(NSFWHUMP) Octavian being Bored

Failed escape

(Untitled) Demon Mishap:

A story idea about a demon having been "accidentally" kidnapped and sold to a high ranking demon who's eager to break him in.

Conatains: Creepy/Intimate whumper, pet whump, institutionalized slavery, defiant whumpee, nsfwhump (any chapters containing this will be posted to @blackberry-sour-and-sweet)

Characters: to be announced later :)

(Untitled) Space demons:

A story about two bounty hunters in the far, far future when humans/angel/demons have begun exploring the stars.

Contains: Scif-fi whump, enemies to lovers, "enemy of my enemy is my friend" trope, morally bankrupt/ villain whumpees

Characters: Zeke, Omen, (others tbd later)

Lore/worldbuilding-

Timeline

Claim Marks/Magic brands

One offs, RP, extras, and non-canon-

Random Mindy fact

Nox, Rupert, Berkley whumper answer

Berkley whumper answer

Character questions (cheese, flexible, and pets)

Character questions (touch starved, sleep, breaks, and strength)

Character questions (smooth talker, graceful/clumsy, instruments, self-sacrifice)

Magic "anon"- Human Fates

Octavian, Rupert, Nox whumper answers

Berkley Whumper answers (with Mindy)

Nox, Nom, Octavian character questions

Whumpee Nox 1/2

Whumpee Rupert

Dayzel "red flags"

Dayzel tattoos

Rupert= Malewife potential?

Character questions (mibium)

DnD content-

Forgotten Familiarites- A DnD campaign run by @obsessedwithegos for myself and @emmettnet

Contains: Self sacrifice, religious trauma(?), abysmally low self esteem, whumpee being reckless/lacking self-preservation, character death (mentioned)

Characters: Nom and Alithea (both belong to me), Dirk, Teddy, Dirce (belong to @/emmettnet), Nilam, Selin, Aevid, Kavius, Mantra, various other NPCS, etc. (all belong to @/obsessedwithegos)

BTHB "I just want to have friends"

Help prompt

Laugh

Falling Feathers- A homebrew campaign I'm running for @/emmettnet and @/obessedwithegos.

Contains: Lab whump, non-con body modifications, major character death (temporary), reluctant whumpers, carewhumper, living weapon whump, multiple whumpees, whumper viewing/treating whumpee as "family", whumpee turned whumper, horror tropes

Characters: Denice (belongs to @/emmettnet), Eliza/Esheh (belongs to @/obsessedwithegos), Berkley, Marley, Rain, Dren, Mindy, The Fates, various NPCs, etc. (all belong to me)

[mythgirlimagines]

BTHB Masterlist

1- Self-harm (Syomaru, Danganronpa)

2- Shot with an Arrow (Honami, Project Sekai)

3- Hyperventilating (Katarina, Hamefura)

4- Facing their Phobia (Tokohina, Danganronpa)

5- Superpower Overload (Komaru, Danganronpa)

6- Survivor’s Guilt (Aoyama, DVHS)

7- Pleading (Miyuki, DVHS)

8- Scar to Remember (Makoto, Danganronpa)

9- Never Got to Say Goodbye (Saki, Project Sekai)

10- "Get Well Soon" Gift (Leo/need, Project Sekai)

11- Comatose (Ishikawa, DVHS)

12- Not Used to Freedom (Sora, Hamefura)

13- Hypothermia (Rei, Pokemon)

14- Neglect/Abandonment (Keith, Hamefura)

15- Secret Caretaking (Ichihona, Project Sekai)

16- Busted Lip (Korekiyo, Danganronpa)

17- Tonsillitis (Aoyama, DVHS)

18- Misunderstanding (Geokata, Hamefura)

19- Loss of a Pet (Toko, Danganronpa)

20- I Will Only Slow You Down (Hiyobuki, Danganronpa)

21- The Silent Treatment (Ruikasa, Project Sekai)

22- Road Rash (Katarina, Hamefura)

23- Attack the Injury (Chat Noir, Miraculous)

24- Spinal Injury (Hajime, Danganronpa)

25- Terminal Illness (Oshiro, DVHS)

Honorable Mentions:

-Never Got to Say Goodbye (Katarina, Hamefura)

-Busted Lip (Alan, Hamefura)

[emcscared-whumps]

Johnstone, Johnstone, my darling boy Johnstone. "Pleading" on the BTHB card for him?

ID: Bad Things Happen Bingo Card

BTHB 1C - Pleading

BTHB Masterpost

Sorry about the wait, but I don't like rushing UwU Johnnybastard is certainly tough to make plead, but I think I have a way of forcing him :)

CONTENT AND WARNINGS: Dehumanisation, it/its as dehumanising pronouns, whumper turned whumpee, this episode, on 'How Homoerotic Could This Conceivably Get?' (even though Dathrir's gender is unfathomable, the spirit is there, (it's sfw tho dw)), wait, how the FUCK did I write hand whump (sliced thumb, EW), noncon turning (not a vampire thing, but a demon thing... even though vampires are a type of demon in these realms... idfk but Johnstone gets the worse deal) it's not transformation /yet/, forced blood drinking

wc: ~1k

“On your knees.”

Dathrir grabbed the restrained human’s throat, and with their free hand, their fingers wandered through its hair, and the clawed tips scraped over its scalp. The threat sent a chill down the human’s spine despite the snarl that stayed fixed on its face.

It took nothing to force it down, despite its viciously growled protests.

Compared to when he stood tall as a House Master, the human in front of them was small. It was probably the ragged clothes, and grimy, bloodied face that gave that impression.

Fallen from humanity’s grace.

A traitor.

A smile crept onto their features. “What a fun game…” they purred.

Fury burnt in those strange, odd coloured eyes. Dathrir recalled that eyes of odd colours were unusual in humans. It’d make a striking demon…

The human gnashed at the cloth gag, as if sensing the malice Dathrir exuded. The way it tried to cling desperately to any power or authority it previously had was amusing, but did not excuse its insubordination and crimes.

“You stole that belunae from me, you know. By getting greedy, sloppy. By getting stupid. I thought you were one of the more intelligent ones. If you had simply followed protocol, well... perhaps even... made a special request...” Dathrir drawled, “we wouldn’t be in this little mess now, would we?”

Their wandering fingers snapped shut and gripped a fistful of ratty blond hair, tearing scalp. The human let out a muffled roar that was as angry as it was pained. Blood seeped through its hair and a thin trail slid down its forehead.

“Hm, let me think… You failed to appoint another Head Hunter, lied in reports on multiple occasions, knowingly appointed a belunae in your Squad—one that you should have passed up—and you kept another as a pet in your little power fantasy. I must say, I admire your ingenuity… but not your stupidity.”

The human glared.

“Sorrel Johnstone, wasn’t it?” they asked. A shadowy smirk darkened their features as they tugged the gag from the human’s mouth. They spoke again, “You broke the House Order. Beg for forgiveness you pathetic fucking dog—give me one good reason not to execute you for treason, and I just might let you live.”

“NEVER, YOU FUCKING PRAT,” it spat.

Dathrir’s eyes narrowed, “You might consider trying again.”

“I. Will. NEVER YIELD!”

“Ever the fool… That’s okay though, I’ll enjoy spilling your blood.”

In a flash, a blade spun in their hand, the tip finding the snarling human’s throat.

The human inhaled sharply and froze, eyes going wide with an entertaining mixture of fury and fear.

Dathrir hummed a giggle, “Cat got your tongue…?”

The spark of defiance in the human’s eyes brightened to flames at the taunt. Its body quivered. Dathrir could hear the way the human’s hands worked in their bindings, itching to break loose and unleash the rage that so clearly roiled within. In the face of Dathrir, the bravery was almost admirable—it was willing to start a fight it surely knew it would lose. Then again, bravery was just a term to comfort the foolhardy.

Dathrir released the human, but not after a light swipe that left a fine, weeping mark across its throat. Perhaps now it would consider the command.

“This can go on as long as you’d like, but I’m sure you’d like to get back to business and rebuild your House,” they said with a quirked eyebrow. “So, why don’t you make it quick. Beg sweetly for me, and I will let you go.”

This got the human’s attention.

Clearly, it had expected to die here, but a change in tactic seemed to yield the results Dathrir desired. The rage still burned beneath its skin, its heavy breathing was a sure tell.

“Let me go,” Johnstone started in a low tone.

“Tsk tsk, the magic word...?”

“Please. Let me go please.”

“Oh I’m sure you can do better,” Dathrir quipped, “after all, you’ve heard it plenty of times, haven’t you?”

Even if only a mockery, the human’s next attempt was at least a fraction more believable, “Please let me go—I’ll do anything...!”

They would make them beg.

Dathrir stroked its hair. “Good boy... That wasn’t so hard now was it? There’s just one more thing before you go,” they drawled with an odd smile, unlocking the cuffs that bound the human.

“And what’s that?” it said, strangling its harsh tone.

Perhaps there was hope, it knew its unspoken boundaries and attempted to adhere, if only as a means to an end.

“This—” Dathrir sliced their thumb on the knife. Thick, dark blood immediately pooled at the tip and dribbled down in a fast stream. Dathrir lunged at the human faster that, it could blink, and shoved their thumb between its lips.

The human recoiled instantly at the taste of Dathrir’s foul blood and tried vainly to spit it out. Dathrir sealed its mouth, but it bit down hard through its clear disgust, tearing at their skin with blunt teeth, clearly trying to dismantle their hand one digit at a time. Had Dathrir been human, they would have screamed.

Instead, what they called pain was a warmth that blossomed and spread up their thumb and through their hand. The tears in their skin simply released more of their blood, prompting a muffled, frustrated scream from the human at their mercy. It struggled harder. It gave up causing them pain, instead trying to quell the sickening burning in their mouth and remove the substance that caused it.

Dathrir smiled, satisfied when the human had swallowed enough. They released it suddenly, letting it hurl itself across the floor. Blood glistened on its lips and the corners of its mouth, and more, mixed with saliva dribbled out of its mouth as it coughed and gagged, groaning lowly.

“What the fuck was that,” the human spat in a raspy voice.

Dathrir smiled, revealing fangs. “Oh,” they purred, “you’ll see.” It won’t be human for much longer, they thought, to be hunted by one’s own people is the most fitting punishment for a traitor.

“Guards, get rid of it. Take it to an alley near here, and then leave me,” they said, “I’d like to watch the show.”

“What the fuck—do you mean, you demon piece of shit?!” the human seethed between coughs.

Before Dathrir deigned to give another vague answer, the human twisted suddenly with a scream, no doubt caused by the corruption that flooded its body.

“Make it stop—! ARGH!” it yelled, agony cracking its strained voice. “Let me go and I’ll—consider letting—you live! If the other houses found out—”

“They won’t,” Dathrir said, “they haven’t for almost a thousand years~ Besides, no one would ever listen to a demon.”

“Let me FUCKING GO!” it screeched, leaping up and lunging toward Dathrir.

The guards caught it and held it back a mere inch from the unflinching Dathrir’s throat. It scrabbled in their hold, the bout of corruption seemingly over. The first ones they endured, Dathrir noted, always seemed less severe, and were shorter. For now, the pathetic creature that struggled restrained before them, murder in their eyes, would be fine. Perhaps it wouldn’t even notice what was happening until it was too late.

It was always captivating to see what a hunter would do when stripped of their humanity. Perhaps this one would be especially interesting, given its ego.

Dathrir hummed lowly, an ominously victorious, jovial sound, “As you wish.”

If you read and enjoyed this, please consider a reblog ^-^

Taglist

@dang-i-like-whump

@whump-cravings

@willowtreewhump

[pythagoreanwhump]

BTHB—Pleading

This is meant to contrast with BTHB—Fingore, but you don't need to have read it to read this. There's not really any CWs in this one tbh

“Come on,” Anastasia stopped Kai before they could disappear into their room for the night, a hand on their shoulder turning them toward her.

“Ma’am,” Kai startled. “I was just g-”

“Come,” She interrupted, increasing the pressure on their shoulder. Not enough to pull, but they followed her, still hesitant but showing no overt resistance. She lead them to a room they were familiar with, meant for punishments, though there was rarely any purpose of chastisement behind what was done to them there. The same hand ended up at the base of their neck, pushing them against a wall, followed by a quiet order to take their shirt off.

“Please, ma’am. Not today.” Even as they tried to refuse, they followed her order, unbuttoning their jacket and handing it to her.

Anastasia did not reply, taking Kai’s jacket and shirt before unceremoniously throwing it onto the table in the centre of the room, her hand never leaving Kai’s back. They closed their eyes, silent as she pulled out a knife and carved a straight line down their back, from their left shoulder blade to their waist.

“Anastasia, please,” Kai tried to turn to face her as soon as the blade lifted from their skin, before she could continue. “I’ll be good, I swear. Could we please do this some other time?” She could do this whenever she wanted, they knew that, and they did not have the choice to fight her. Still, they squirmed as they asked, trying to get her to understand that they really didn’t want this.

“It’s okay, Kai, I won’t take long. You just have to take it.” She pressed them harder into the wall, but the only touch she gave them was one hand, the other not even resting on their skin as only a few millimetres of metal dug into their back. They weren’t sure if it would be better if there was more of a gentle touch, a hand brushed over exposed skin to soothe. Maybe that would only add to the unwelcome burn of pain now, every sensation filling what little free space was left in their mind after a long day.

The lines kept digging in, each one deeper than the previous and more painful. Kai alternated before straining their head back, trying to pull away as much as possible without it counting as fighting back, and resting their forehead on the cool concrete, tears streaming down their face. “I can’t-” They gasped out when half of their back was covered in long cuts, and the latest ran down their spine until it dipped into the divot at their waist, sending a spark through their body and seized every muscle they could feel. “Please, Anastasia, I can’t.” Can’t relax like they always did. Can’t enjoy it after what they did today, their head filled with images of how they hurt someone who was not like them, who couldn’t enjoy it but had to face it anyway.

“Please, please, no,” The next cut cued more tears, no longer silent as they choked on a sob, and they repeated the same two words over and over like a prayer. They knew what Anastasia thought, that they wanted this and she was only doing it for them. Maybe they deserved it for what they did today, but they didn’t want it now, couldn’t even try to want it. Please, Anastasia, no more. Please. They couldn’t tell if Anastasia heard them, if they even succeeded in forcing the words past their lips. The only relief is that Anastasia was always predictable when she was like this, and Kai knew that they could be done once the right side of their back was laid full with the same long lines of red. Before then, all they could do was beg, hoping the pleas would fill their mind more than any memories.

“Good work,” Once Anastasia was done, all she offered was the short praise and a firm pat on their shoulder. It should’ve been enough, it usually was. Usually, the acknowledgement that they’ve done well enough for her was enough as the haze of pain lulled them to sleep, but tonight, as she walked them back to their room in silence, holding their clothes for them, all they could think of was their own voice, capable of speaking only two words. No. Please.

[ultracreativelywritten]

I tried to post this last night, but something went wrong. 

I was in the mood for fire emblem three houses.

“Claude?” Lorenz looked over at his once schoolmate, now friend with confusion.

“Yes, love?” The violet-haired male shivered as Claude walked towards him.

“Please don’t do this.” Silent tears fell from Lorenz’s face.

“Why are you crying, my love?” Claude kissed the side of the lord’s face, licking some of the tears away. “Would you like some tea?”

“Please-” Lorenz was cut off as Claude pulled him into a kiss.

“I have your favorite right over here~” 

“Please don’t hurt them.” 

“Hurt who?” Claude handed Lorenz the cup of tea.

“My people… Our people, our classmates, the professors!” Lorenz took a shaky sip of the tea, “what in this?”

“What do you mean? I would never hurt you, or any of our friends.” Claude’s grin grew as Lorenz’s eyes tried to stay open.

“Please, don’t hurt them.”

“Never my love.” Claude took the tea cup and placed a kiss on Lorenz’s forehead and played with his hair as the lord fell asleep.

[saccharine-suffering]

Personal Branding

I’m back! I’ve been writing a lot of non-whump story, but the next like nine are all super whumpy. So :)

Read it on AO3

Masterlist

When he awoke, the first thing Micah noticed was the cold. The air around him was damp and cold. The hair on the back of his neck stood up as he tried to hold onto himself for warmth- but he couldn't move. The intense chill distracted him from the rope binding his wrists and ankles to a worn wooden chair.  As he continued to wake up from his forced sleep, he noticed more and more- like the cloth gag shoved far into his mouth and light footsteps.  A feminine voice broke the deafening silence.

"Are you awake? You've been out for hours." Micah could barely make out her tiny silhouette. She couldn't have been any taller than five feet. Plus, it was near impossible to see anything in the suffocating darkness. The girl flicked on the light, practically blinding Micah. There was a dull, yet intense pain shot through his head the second the light came on. Micah retracted and whined from the discomfort. 

"Do you have a concussion?" She jumped in again, "We've been trying to stop doing that." There was no way this girl was his captor. She was tiny. Blonde and skinny- dressed up in baby pink and wearing gentle makeup. Her glassy green eyes had a look of care and softness behind them. No way. No fucking way. The person who beat him up and drugged him was almost his height. They were strong. He refused to believe it. 

"Now, I know what you're thinking- 'Where am I? Who are you? What's happening?'" She began to flick through a file folder as she spoke in a casual tone, "Don't worry- well, do worry. I guess you are in a lot of danger. You are somewhere no one will find you. You're here because someone paid a lot of money to put you on a list. And you can call me Dollface- and you're my property now." She smiled at him, provoking him to struggle in his restraints. 

"I can already tell you'll be a fun one." She continued sorting through pages in the folder, "Micah Santonio." She read, closing the folder after. "I like that name. I won't change it." Micah started to take in his surroundings, following her as she walked around the room. From what he could see, there was a staircase against the far wall- which seemed to be the only way in and out. There was blood on the floor and chair, chains hanging from several spots on the ceiling. On the far left wall, a series of metal cabinets and counters. Next to it, a few shelves. From what he knew, displayed on the wall, was a few knives, a whip, a blowtorch, and a stun gun. But Dollface was digging through a cabinet, clearly looking for something specific. She eventually pulled out a hot glue gun- a hefty looking one, without a cord. She then moved to grab the blowtorch off the shelf. 

Micah continued to panic and struggle. Dollface smiled at him as he fruitlessly tried to speak through his gag. She placed the items at his feet and leaned in close to him. Micah could finally see her up close. Her eyes were soft, but they pierced his heart like a blade. He couldn't pinpoint what was so threatening about this girl. 

"Do you have something to say, love?" Her voice was like poison. A voice that Micah knew would be more than enough to send him to his knees in the near future. He frantically nodded. Dollface untied the fabric wrapping around his head and pulled out the ball of cloth in his mouth. He took a wheezing breath and let his jaw relax. "So? What did you need to tell me?"  Micah realized he needed to say something. He wanted to get out of the gag so badly that he neglected what it actually meant. He had to think fast. After a few seconds of him shaking his head in panic, Micah was finally able to choke out a few words. 

"Please... I don't know what you're about to do, but don't do it. We- we can talk! Let's talk." His voice sounded more desperate than he meant it to, causing Dollface to giggle slightly. 

"Cute voice, too. And don't worry- this won't even hurt. Compared to everything else I'm gonna do."  She lightly tapped the tip of his nose and smiled. At this point, the glue gun was heated up and dripping the melted plastic. She circled back of him as he continued to try to plead with her. Dollface pulled down his shirt enough to expose his left shoulderblade. 

She then delicately seared a symbol into his shoulderblade with the gun. When he tried to squirm away from the white-hot burning, she delivered an elbow to his gut. He clenched his hands so hard his fingernails dug into the palms of his hands. Blood pooled in his hands as he let out a soul-piercing scream. Micah was breathing heavily when she pulled away. He let out a quivering breath as tears fell down his cheeks. 

"You made a lot of noise." Dollface's voice had a kind of spice to it. What was once bittersweet now was just bitter. He could almost hear her cruel smile. "That was just the outline. Things are gonna get a lot worse." His heart sank when he heard the gas of the blowtorch ignite. His thrashing grew more violent when the flame made contact with his skin. He felt it burn deeper and deeper into his flesh. The smell was repulsive. He just kept screaming louder and louder until his voice fell into a raspy whine. He was crying so hard hat no more noise came out, despite his bloodshot eyes and teardrops staining his face. 

The torch clicked off and Micah swallowed hard, trying to stop sobbing. She gently touched his skin, which was more than enough to make him whimper. The cold water she sprayed on the wound was completely blissful. The old rag less so. After a few moments of picking stray bits of glue from his skin, Dollface came back around the front of her victim. 

"You don't seem to have a very high pain tolerance." She lifted his chin to force eye-contact. Micah shook his head no in response. "Well," she softly cupped his cheek, "things only get worse from here." 

[devirnis]

WIP Wednesday

tagged by @eddiebabygirldiaz @honestlydarkprincess @exhuastedpigeon @princessfbi MWAH 💋

Feeling the itch to write more hurt/comfort BTHB fics, so have some more of the follow-up to The Shadows of Every Spark

Buck shifts in the chair again, drawing Maddie’s gaze back to him. He doesn’t dare shake his head, but his pleading is evident in his eyes. Don’t do it, he’s begging her. Save yourself. Maddie steels herself in determination. She’s getting them both out of this; she just has to wait for the right moment. She shrugs off her jacket and snaps the handcuffs on. Without being asked, she walks over to Doug and presents her wrists for inspection, and Doug smiles with such pride that it makes Maddie’s skin crawl. Evidently satisfied with her restraints, Doug fists the back of Buck’s shirt and yanks him out of the chair. Buck grunts out a muffled noise of surprise as he struggles to get his feet under him, and Maddie has to resist the urge to reach out and steady him.  “Jacket over the handcuffs,” Doug reminds her. “And then you’re going to check to make sure we have a clear shot to the street.” “And then what?” Maddie asks, picking up her jacket. “We’re going for a drive.”

if you wanna @bigfootsmom @homerforsure @disasterbuckdiaz @wildlife4life @spaceprincessem @giddyupbuck @jeeyuns @bvckandeddie @loserdiaz @monsterrae1 @eowon @messyhairdiaz @shitouttabuck @sunshinediaz @lemonzestywrites @underwater-ninja-13 @daffi-990 @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @watchyourbuck @tizniz 💜

[moonstonemoonlight]

Pleading - DS Dream and DS Nightmare

Dreamswap by Onebizarrekai

Warning for mild violence

Nightmare hated the cells. It was dark, it was cold, and the very air felt heavy with dread like a noose around his neck that he would one day fail to escape. Thank stars for Error and Cross or he might not have gotten out those past times, given the new defences in JR. Sneaking out alone was a lot harder than it used to be.

He had tried already to slip out of the handcuffs, but they were too tight - way too tight, unnecessarily tight, he doubted he could get them off even if he broke his thumbs - and the entire cell was carved with runes that suppressed his magic, even if he did somehow manage to get the cuffs off.

Giving up for the time being, Nightmare lay on one side on the cot and let himself rest a bit. It was sometime in the middle of the night and he was tired even if he didn’t dare sleep here. He just had to hope that Cross and Error realised he was gone and could save him soon, or that he could find a way out himself.

Some time later, he heard shuffling and footsteps nearby, and turned on his side. Nightmare assumed it was another prisoner being brought in, but the footsteps came towards his cell. He only had a few moments to sit up and tense before they were unlocking his cell, opening the door, and he launched himself at the first one who entered. The first guard was stunned still for a moment, but the other wasn’t and grabbed at Nightmare before he could make it out the door, picking him up by the back of his shirt as the negative guardian kicked the air. The guards grumbled and with difficulty got a firm hold on him, carrying him out of the cell between them. Nightmare struggled somewhat dejectedly, knowing he had missed his best bet at freedom, and wondered if he was being taken to the lab for the infrequent tests he got when he was captured. But why in the middle of the night? Usually nothing happened until the morning.

The corridors were familiar at first, heading towards the medical facility, but a few turns took them into an area Nightmare had never seen before. He began to feel a knot of unease in his chest despite telling himself everything was going to be fine. Finally they entered a room and Nightmare wished he was back being dragged through corridors; most of the room space was taken up by a huge looming machine, massive gleaming pipes snaking around the corners and two person-sized pods prominently displayed and hooked up. It looked nothing like anything he’d seen in the labs. With growing panic Nightmare kicked at the guards, earning a grunt and a whack to the back of the head, but as they approached one of the pods his struggling became frantic.

“No! Let me go! You’re not putting me in there!” He had a horrible suspicion what the machine was for. He kicked at the lid of the pod but failed to shatter it, squirmed around like a madman to try and stop the guards from tying his legs down to the board inside, his handcuffed arms hung on a hook above his head despite his efforts, his yelling and protests going ignored. Once his legs were tied down Nightmare was reduced to pulling at the binds and trying to work the handcuffs off the hook, starting to shake. He told himself it was adrenaline. The lid of the pod closed over him and everything outside was muffled, but he could still clearly see the moment Dream walked into the room.

Golden light tinted the walls and the CEO of JR himself stepped in, wings tightly folded, and started talking to the guards. He didn’t even look in Nightmare’s direction. Nightmare couldn’t make out everything, but he heard something about being unable to follow standard policy and ‘part of a separation procedure’. It felt like the breath was knocked out of him for a moment and he forced himself not to choke on his panic. “No no no-! You can’t do this!” He thrashed in the pod, as much as he was able. His shouting gained Dream and the guards’ attention, but his words went unacknowledged. Dream ushered the guards away to stand by the door as a Sans in a lab coat came in. Nightmare shouted as Dream approached the other pod, “Dream no don’t- Please don’t! Dream!”

He saw Dream flinch as he hesitated to open the pod. The Sans did it for him. Nightmare felt panic well up inside him; he didn’t want to die.

“Nono Dream brother please don’t please! I don’t want to die! Please mercy!” The words left a bitter taste in his mouth but he hardly registered it, writhing in place like a man possessed. His pleading and crying went ultimately unheeded. Before he could say any more Dream turned his face away, disappeared inside the pod and the Sans went to a control panel. Nightmare felt like he was hyperventilating, unable to scream from the words and sobs clogging his throat. The Sans pushed a button. Within moments he felt pain lance through him like fire and heard them both scream.

-

Consciousness came back to him fuzzily, stirring faintly as he felt his legs being untied. Everything ached and burned unpleasantly. His magic was out of sorts and battered, weak and worn out, feeling… different.

There was movement and his hands were brought down gently and he was being lifted, held. He felt warmth. He’d expected pain and fear and discomfort, not warmth. Something wet stung his cheeks and a hand lightly wiped it off, rubbing a circle on his cheekbone before disappearing. Voices murmured but they were speaking too quiet for him to make out in his half aware state, he only shifted and clung to the warmth holding him, cracking open sleepy eyesockets to get a look around. He saw bright yellow and orange and grumbled, burying his head into the soft, bright fabric as he closed his eyes again. The brightness was too much, almost headache inducing, and he’d rather go back to sleep. Something important lingered in the back of his mind, like a heavy weight, but it wasn’t enough to bring him back to full awareness; instead he lay in someone’s arms and felt himself being jostled slightly as they walked, an echo of footsteps reaching him, a gentle touch ghosting over his face. And there was quiet, sorrowful whispering that he couldn’t decipher, and the faintest impression of a kiss left on his forehead.

Whoo!

[whumpwillow]

whump tropes i like

by no means an exhaustive list as I’m sure there’s more I’m forgetting, but here’s quite a few (mostly garnered from various posts and bthb cards) 

—

hiding an injury

knife to the throat

forced to beg

broken ribs

slammed into a wall

stumbling and staggering

trapped in a net

bruises

shot with an arrow

buried alive

impaled palm

grabbed by the hair

through the cold

used as bait

‘more expendable than you’

‘take me instead’

locked in a cage

hand stomp

carved mark

tied to a chair

shock collar

collared and chained

painful wound cleaning

‘leave me alone’

worked himself to exhaustion

nightmares

taking the blame (for what, idk)

self-loathing

sleep deprivation

‘dont you dare pity me’

cry into chest

fever

voice breaking

backhand slap

black eye

‘it’s all my fault’

crying themselves to sleep

prisoner exchange

touch starved

no anesthetic

defeated and trophified

caretaker kissing whumpee’s scars

caretakers gently changing the dressings/bandages of whumpee's wounds and murmuring soothing nothings as they hiss and wince in pain

Brushing their hand through the whumpee’s hair to soothe them

holding them while they cry

Sitting with whumpee while they have their wounds treated, maybe letting them grip their hand as some way of dealing with the pain

Helping whumpee get up when they fall/ helping them walk by letting the whumpee brace themselves on them

Letting the whumpee rest their head on their chest or shoulder

lost their voice from screaming

stitches

whipping

power fatigue / exhaustion

hair matted with blood

caretaker cradling whumpee in their arms

electrocution

muzzled

hiding an illness

conditioning / conditioned whumpees

locked up and left behind

damaged wings

shaking and shivering

grabbed by the chin

hidden scar

passing out from the pain

‘please don’t leave me’

forced to participate in prize fight

taunting

humiliation

captivity

beaten with a cane

panic attack

vivisection

traumatic touch aversion

betrayal

grabbed by the hair

trail of blood

hurts to breathe

‘dont let them see you cry’

on a leash

surrender

shackled / handcuffed

forced to hurt someone

dehumanization

tearful smile

black eye

blindfolded

clawing at own throat

flashbacks

trying not to cry

banished

broken / bloody nose

kick them while theyre down

dissociation

dragged by the ankle

nervous breakdown

bloodstained clothes

fever

bundled up in blankets

betrayal

losing their temper

caught in a storm

bleeding through the bandages

hypothermia

rejected apology

broken angel

magical curse

used in sacrifice / ritual

chained to a wall

survivor’s guilt

tied to a pole

outnumbered in a fight

‘get it over with’

hyperventilating

trust issues

on the run

bounty on their head

hostage video

dragging themselves along the ground

isolation

made a slave

public execution / torture

pleading

reluctant caretaker

misunderstanding

wrongfully accused / arrested

loneliness

‘should have been better’

made a lab rat

trying not to cry

undeserved reputation

branding

pleading

disowned by family / team

hallucinations

forced to kneel / bow

enemy turned caretaker

unhealthy coping mechanisms

bedside vigil

coughing up blood

fainting

memory loss / amnesia

rage against the reflection

delirium

prank gone wrong

compelled / ensorcelled

self blame

disproportionate retribution

truth potion / serum

magical exhaustion

cleaning Whumpers shoes

nervously tapping the bell on their collar

accidental confessions

-

sorry for the long post, its not letting me add a readmore with the bullets :>

[blackberry-bloody]

Hi, I was the one who sent the ask about being confused! I am still confused, you listed the order events happen in the timeline but not the order your work should be read.

Hello! Thank you for the follow up!

I will be remaking my entire master list hopefully within the next week, but since I've just started a new job and don't know how much energy/time I'll have going forward for the next few days, I can't make any specific promises.

For right now I am going to pin this until I can get a new master list in place.

And link the characters/timeline post as well

But for right now this is best I can provide for each of the stories/timelines in chronological order at the time of writing this.

Mibium:

BTHB non-con touching

BTHB blindfolded

Dayzel:

Nox marking him

Dayzel and Mibium early relationship angst

Rupert's henchmen kidnaping him back

Sensory deprivation

Unforgivable

BTHB pleading

Non-canon pieces or side pieces that can be read in any order:

Hung by tail

Snippets

Rupert whump

---

Berkley:

BTHB: (Dnd) Tampering with food and drink

Pick Your Poison masterlist

---

I don't have much yet of Nom and Alithea, but these should be in order:

Laugh

Alithea rescues Nom

BTHB: "I just want to have friends"

---

This is the master list for canon/full chapters of Half lies and hidden truths

But here are some older writings/snippets (did my best to keep them in order):

Richard prying into Dare's mind

Metaphorical gunpoint

Ian failed escape attempt

Dare imprisoned

Ian comfort

Jane unhealthy coping mechanism

Dare going back for Mindy

[ravens-words]

congrats again ej!! 🥀 + tarlos + “it hurts” + " it's okay. i promise you, i will be here when you wake up." please!

Thank you for the prompt, Jamie! (And sorry it's so late lol)

Hope you enjoy it!

Combined with this prompt for bthb

bring me to life

"It hurts," Carlos choked out, his whole body shaking with the cough that followed.

"I know," TK said shakily, pressing down on the gaping wound in his boyfriend's chest, heart in his throat as he tried to stop the bleeding.

Carlos wasn't going to make it.

TK knew that with a sickening, distant sort of certainty.

"I-I lo- I love you," Carlos stuttered, coughing again, and by the end of it, there was a trail of blood coming out of his mouth.

A numbness unlike any other washed over TK, even as his chest, his whole body, heaved with sobs.

"Hold on," he whispered around the lump in his throat, "please, Carlos, for me."

Carlos smiled at him, but it was pained, and he looked terrified. "S-sorry, sweetheart," he muttered, lips twitching up into a small smile that was a mock imitation of his usual ones, the ones that never failed to light up a room, or make TK's heart feel like it was two sizes too big for his chest.

TK was a paramedic, and yet, he could do nothing to save the one person he would give anything to save.

TK wasn't supposed to fail him.

Carlos took a shallow breath in.

He choked on it.

TK held his breath.

"Carlos," he whispered, hand pressing hard on his chest.

The chest that was now still.

Too still.

"Carlos?"

Unseeing eyes were open, unblinking and unbothered by the rain TK was just now noticing.

"No, no, no," he muttered as he interlaced his fingers and started doing compressions.

1

2

3

4

5

"Carlos, please wake up," he pleaded with him, even though he knew it was too late.

His heart hurt, his chest hurt, but he kept it up. Kept pressing on his chest, hoping for a miracle.

"I love you," he sobbed, burying his face in his boyfriend's too still, too cold, chest.

He waited for his arms to come up and wrap around him, but they didn't.

TK sat up, and he dragged Carlos into his lap, pulling him into an a tight embrace.

"Come back to me, please."

He didn't know how he would ever be able to let him go.

But Carlos' eyes stayed closed, and his chest stayed still.

TK pressed a kiss to his forehead and closed his eyes.

“Come back.”

.

TK gasped, taking in one deep breath after another, at a rate that he was distantly aware of being too fast. He wanted to sit up, wanted to slow down his breathing, but it was as if he was paralyzed and all he could see was the pale lifeless body of his boyfriend, too still in his arms.

His boyfriend.

Carlos.

"Carlos?"

No answer. With some difficulty, he moved his too heavy limbs and managed to turn to his side, hand already outstretched towards Carlos' side of the bed.

He wasn't there.

His blood turned to ice in his veins and it felt like the whole world screeched to a stop.

It had been a nightmare, right?

"Carlos?"

He clutched the sheets in one fist, his panicked breaths the only sound in the room. "Carlos?!"

No.

He wasn't dead.

"Carlos?!" He shouted, finally managing to drag his body into a seated position. "Carlos!"

"TK?!"

Relief hit him like a tidal wave, and he sagged forward, unable to hold himself up as sobs ripped through his chest like tiny  draggers.

There was the sound of pounding footsteps, and then-

Arms, safe and warm and strong, wrapped around him.

The chest that was pressed to his was expanding with each breath.

Alive.

TK pressed his forehead into Carlos' own, and lifted up a shaky hand to feel for his pulse.

Carlos let TK's hands roam his body, let him press soft, chaste kisses to every inch of exposed skin, and he didn't say a word.

He did, after a few minutes, attempt to pull away, though.

TK didn't let him.

He clung to him like a child, closing his eyes tightly, and let his forehead fall on the other man's shoulder.

A strong hand rubbed his back gently, while the other settled on his neck, the weight of it comforting.

For the first time since he woke up, TK took in a deep breath and was able to let it out slowly.

"You okay?"

He shook his head wordlessly.

"Nightmare?" Carlos asked, even though he already knew the answer.

"Yeah," TK whispered, voice hoarse.

"Same one?"

His voice was impossibly soft, but the words were heavy with guilt.

It was what made TK move away from his hiding place. "It wasn't your fault," he croaked, and despite his best effort, his eyes filled with tears. "It wasn't your fault, Carlos," he repeated, his eyes instinctively going to the red, four inch surgical wound on Carlos' chest. His hands found the raised skin, and though his touch was feather light, the muscles underneath tensed.

He tore his gaze away from the reminder, and met brown, guilty eyes.

"I'm still sorry you had to go through that."

He smiled, and was sure it didn't reach his eyes.

"You were the one who got shot," he reminded him, though it really wasn't needed, considering the countless times their positions had been reversed, and he'd been the one to comfort Carlos after he woke up from a nightmare about that same night.

"And you were the one who had to see me bleed out on the sidewalk," Carlos told him, and TK's eyes left his to go back to that red, jagged line that wasn't a scar quite yet, but was getting there.

He slowly, and gently, pulled at Carlos' hands, and when his boyfriend leaned into him, TK put both of his hands on his cheeks and pulled him into a soft kiss. Only when he tasted salt did he realize he hadn't really stopped crying since he woke up.

Carlos wiped away his tears, and TK clutched one hand, and pressed a kiss into the center of his palm. "I love you," he muttered thickly, and pushed him down onto the mattress.

Carlos didn't resist, merely stared at him, trusting, and waited for his next move.

TK wanted nothing more than to kiss him, and touch him, and have him do the same. He wanted nothing more than to lose himself in Carlos' touches, and his kisses, but he also knew that they were both tired, and not exactly in the right headspace, so he settled for pressing a kiss on that puckered skin, the proof that Carlos was alive, here and safe, then one on each of his cheeks, and finally, he pressed his lips to Carlos’, and smiled into the kiss when Carlos deepened it. "I love you," he mumbled, pulling back to look down at the man he loved.

"I love you, too," Carlos told him, pulling him down and into his arms, "sleep," he urged him gently.

TK sighed. "I don't think I can."

"Try," Carlos insisted.

"I don't want to wake up alone again," he said, saying the words under his breath.

Carlos pressed a kiss to his hair. "It's okay. I promise you, I'll be here when you wake up."

[equestrianwritingsstuff]

For the BTHB... Villain with appendicitis?

Thank you for the ask!

Rupturing

@badthingshappenbingo

Warnings: appendectomy, fever, anxious character, painkillers, pills, vomit, anesthesia, surgery, IV, needles, refusal of medical care

~

9:01. He was a minute late.

9:05. Five minutes late.

9:15. Hero started to pace around, kicking pebbles with her foot.

9:20. She was starting to get nervous. Villain was never, ever late.

9:30. Okay, this was getting absurd.

Hero stood up, grabbed her phone, and called Villain. It rang, but never clicked.

He didn't answer.

Hero bit her lip, a nauseating pit forming in her gut.

Something was wrong. Villain was always overly stressed about time and always showed up at nine- not a second too late.

So, naturally, being the anxious, paranoid worry wort that Hero was, she went to check up on him.

Of course, Hero spent all her freetime figuring out where Villain lived if there was an instance like the current one.

Upon knocking at the beige door, that nauseous feeling overcame her again. Something was wrong.

She busted through the door and immediately the eerie silence of the home startled her. Even though Villain lived alone, there would surely be a TV playing or the dishwasher going.

Hero searched through the various rooms. It was a normal house. Quaint and small with barely any decor apart from a few spontaneously placed plants. All the walls were painted with the same, dull blue that the sky had right before a storm. It was dreary and perfectly villainous.

"Villain!" Hero called, peeking into a room she assumed to be his bedroom. Apart from a shoddily made bed, it seemed as though Villain hadn't been in there for a long time.

The next room in the hallway was a bathroom. Hero stepped in there, ignoring the horrid stench, and examined the counters. Bottles of Tylenol and Ibuprofen were scattered about. His gnawed on toothbrush was laying by the sink as water slowly dripped from the faucet.

That didn't look spectacular.

Hero stepped out of the bathroom and turned the light off before turning and walking into a large room that seemed to be the kitchen and dining room combined.

"Hey Villain! Are you home?" Hero called again, observing how badly stocked the fridge and cupboards were. Basically, the only food that Villain seemed to store was ramen and some protein powder.

"Villain!" Hero yelled, getting nervous. Based on the state of his bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen, the villain seemed to be in rough state.

Or was that just her nervous tendencies kicking in?

The next room was without doubt the living room, though with those desolate walls, one may beg to differ.

In the center of the gray room was a dark cherry wood coffee table and a small armchair. And that was it.

Except for the body strewn across the ground.

Hero bounded over to the seemingly dead corpse and rolled it over to come face to face with Villain.

"Oh my gosh!" Hero exclaimed, thrusting her fingers by his neck to check for a pulse. It was there, thump... thump... thump...

"You okay?" Hero asked, smoothing the sweaty strands of hair out of his face. Villain blearily blinked his eyes open and shook his head.

"Stomach bug," he whispered.

Hero looked down at him skeptically. No, this wasn't just a stomach bug. He was obviously in pain and was likely running a nasty fever. And he looked so incredibly tired and weak.

"How long have you been like this?" Hero asked, putting Villain's heavy head in her lap.

"M day," he groaned, gasping for breath. "Stomach hurts."

"Where?" Hero asked. Villain lightly brushed his fingers over his right side.

"Oh okay bud. I think you have a fever," Hero said, taking his temperature with her hand. It was burning and he looked so pale.

"Yeah cold," Villain agreed, nodding the tiniest nod.

"Okay buddy," Hero murmured, stroking his flushed cheek. "I think we need to go to the doctor."

She recognized the symptoms. Her sister when they were kids got sick like this and they had to take her to the hospital. Hero was too young to exactly know what was going on, only that it was serious.

But Villain shook his head, aimlessly clawing at Hero's hand.

"No doctor. No doctor," he begged, then winced, whimpered and grabbed his right side. When he looked back up at Hero, there were tears in his eyes.

"Okay we are going now," Hero stood up with Villain in a bridal carry. He protested weakly, but then stilled. Hero stopped walking to see if he was still conscious by shaking him. He groaned.

Hero loaded Villain in the back seat of her truck and buckled him in around his chest and legs so he could safetly rest.

The drive to the hospital seemed longer than what it was. Every moment she got, Hero would look behind her to peer at Villain, and everytime he was still staring at the ceiling with a dazed expression.

Finally, they arrived. Hero barely put the vehicle in park by the time she was leaping out of the door and running to Villain's side.

"Hey! Hey!" Hero called when she ran into the hospital, placing Villain on a bench. Other patients stared at her and receptionists stood up to meet her.

"Bring him into the ER," one of the receptionists said as she grabbed a stack of papers and called the doctor. Hero gathered Villain back in her arms and ran into another room.

The receptionist handed Hero the stack of papers. "Fill these in to thr best of your ability. I'm going to get the doctor."

Hero sat on the raised hospital bed with Villain resting against her shoulder. He sighed contently and nuzzled his cheek to find a perfect spot. Hero looked over at him- he was almost asleep with his whole body splayed out and limp.

Hero wrapped her arm around his shivering body and rubbed his shoulder before answering some of the paperwork.

She was able to answer most of them relatively easily, but got stumped on occupation.

She couldn't just say villainy right?

"Hero, why hello. How is your arm healing?"

Hero looked up to see the doctor sauntering into the room, his blonde hair slightly tousled with pale gray shadows under his eyes- remnants of a busy day.

"Good, good," Hero said, putting the paperwork aside.

"Is this one of your team members?" The doctor asked, running a thermometer over Villain's forehead. He frowned at the reading.

"Not exactly," Hero replied, timidly. She rubbed Villain's hair as he stirred from the cool touch of the thermometer. He near immediately fell back asleep.

The doctor's face paled. "He's a villain? Hero you know-"

"Yes, I know, but look at him Doc," she gestured her head towards Villain's sagging body.

The doctor glanced at Villain for a moment. He then said, "Yeah, he's sick. I'm thinking appendicitis, but he's a villain. The hospital is not required to treat them, unless there's an order. Order as in signed by ten, high-ranking heroes. Besides, it'll endanger our staff."

"He can't even lift his head!" Hero exclaimed. "How is he going to be a threat under anesthesia? C'mon tell me."

"He could wake up..."

"As sick as he is? Not likely."

"A MRI scan could amplify his abilities."

Suddenly Villain coughed, interrupting the conversation. He groaned before expelling his stomach's contents on the floor.

"It's okay," Hero murmured, scowling slightly at the sight, before glaring at the doctor while raising her eyebrows.

The doctor sighed. "Lay him on the bed." Hero complied, laying the villain flat on the bed, adjusting his head to rest on the pillow.

The doctor took his hand and prodded at the right side of his stomach. Villain groaned, breathing heavily.

"He's going to need emergency surgery," the doctor said, standing up and trotting to a phone. "Nurse? I need a team of anesthesiologists for an appendectomy."

Hero grabbed Villain's hand. His forehead was creased in concern as he listened and watched the doctor's erratic movements.

"Hey, it's okay. I'll be right there with you," Hero soothed him. He seemed to relax, but his muscles did not let go of their tension.

"Okay. I am going to go get ready." The doctor left.

Soon after, a couple nurses came in and hooked Villain to an IV. He flinched, watching the small needle go into his elbow.

Hero grabbed his hand and rubbed it.

A couple more people sauntered in and injected a hypodermic needle into the IV line.

"Okay Villain, count down from ten."

"Ten... nine... eight... sev...ven...si." Villain looked over at Hero with pleading eyes before they drifted shut.

A nurse put a mask over his nose and he was wheeled away.

Hero waited in the lobby, twidling her thumb and reading health magazines. Every two minutes, literally, she would look at the clock and bite her lip.

After two hours, the doctor made his appearance.

"The surgery was successful. He is waking up now, so he will be very groggy, but his vitals are good. You can take him home."

"Don't you have to monitor him."

"Come back in two weeks for a check-up."

Hero walked into the ER and to Villain's bed. His eyes were half-lidded and he barely noted Hero's presence.

"Hey buddy," Hero cooed, stroking his head. "You scared me."

Villain didn't reply, just blinked very, very slowly. Soon, his blinks became longer until he drifted off.

Nervous, Hero called for a nurse. "Why is he sleeping?" She asked.

The nurse shrugged. "The effects of anesthesia hasn't worn off yet, so he'll be in and out for a while."

Hero nodded and sat back down.

"You can take him home, you know," the nurse said. "We don't keep villains for monitoring or over-night stays."

Hero groaned and looked at the nurse. "Well you should."

"But we don't. Please take him home, he's occupying beds that could be used for more important patients."

Hero rolled her eyes, but obeyed. She picked Villain up and helped him into his jeans, but left his shirt off to not irritate the stitches. Then, she rolled him to her truck in a wheelchair.

It was nearly midnight by the time Hero got Villain to her house and changed into something comfortable. He was dozing, but every movement seemed to awake him. He was totally and completely silent, allowing Hero to tuck him on her bed before sliding in next to him.

She wrapped her arms around Villain and pulled him in tight. He drifted off to sleep instantly, and Hero was not far behind.

When Hero awoke the next morning, she was sprawled across her bed with Villain laying on her stomach. She smiled and watched the slow rise and fall of his chest before carefully removing his head to go downstairs and prepare breakfast. After a quick research, she decided to make a bowl of pudding with toast and avacado.

Villain came down the stairs stiffly, groaning with each step, just as Hero put the bread in the toaster. She looked up just in time to see him lean heavily against the wall.

"What are you doing?" Hero scolded and gently led him to the couch to sit on.

"Heard you- engh," Villain winced, holding his side. "Downstairs."

"Okay," Hero sighed. "Do you remember anything from yesterday?"

"No not really. Just you and the hospital. Everything else is just a blank."

"You had an appendectomy," Hero explained, brushing the hair out of Villain's face. He jerked back and Hero pulled away. He was so cute and vulnerable when he was out of it.

"What's that?" Villain asked, but Hero had a sense that he knew and just wanted to fill the silence up.

"Your appendix was removed." The toaster clicked, so Hero went and grabbed the food.

Villain spooned at it for awhile before putting it towards the side. His face was pale.

"Not hungry," he said.

"You gotta eat."

"No," Villain slowly laid on the couch, his body seizing with every motion. "I'm tired..."

"Yeah, you had surgery, but please eat something so I can give you some painkillers."

Villain rolled his eyes, but allowed Hero to feed him some avocado and pudding. However, by the end of it, he was too exhausted to resist Hero putting two large pills in his mouth.

Between the pain meds and fatigue, it only took a few minutes for Villain to fall sound asleep.

Hero idly ate her own pudding and stared out the window. After finishing both her's and Villain's chocolate desert, she went to do dishes.

Then she showered.

Then she playing monopoly by herself.

And then she ate lunch.

All the while waiting for Villain to regain consciousness.

He did, eventually, and very slowly.

"How are you feeling."

"Bit dizzy," Villain admitted, rubbing his eyes. "How long was I out?"

"About," Hero looked at her phone. "Five hours, give or take one."

Villain groaned and quickly murmured an apology.

"Don't be. You are still a bit feverish and just came out of surgery."

Villain closed his eyes. Hero thought he might've fallen back asleep, but then he spoke,

"Thank you for taking care of me."

Hero smiled.