#disoriented whumpee

[chaotic-orphan]

Intoxicating Fear (XXVII)

Disoriented dazed

Read part one // masterpost // continued from

*~*~*~*~*

Kit woke with a sharp cough, his lungs bouncing against his ribs. He turned over as the cough tickled the back of his throat, and he tried to sit up but the world swam dizzying around his head and he wanted to throw up instead as he hacked out whatever was stuck in his chest.

He managed to eventually, a glob of red hitting a pale hand as Kit groaned. Hands were on his shoulders, pushing him back against the bed and Kit blinked, groaning against the touch.

Who was touching him didn’t matter, he just wanted it to stop. “Kit, it’s okay. You’re safe. You’re fine.”

Kit passed out again before he could wonder why that voice was, at once, so familiar and yet something was wrong with it. Something off. He couldn’t remember why or what as the darkness claimed him again.

The next time he woke up he was more alert. He didn’t wake up coughing, he woke easily and without fuss. He blinked at the unfamiliar ceiling for a while, his mind moving too slowly to comprehend that he could be in danger. He had a bad headache, a dull aching throb, one that pulsed spikes of pain down his temple and into his cheeks with every beat of his heart.

His breath felt so loud in the silence of the room.

He couldn’t remember what was happening, where he was, but he was floating along, as if he were in a lazy river, just enjoying the flow of the water around him instead of focusing on why he was in the water in the first place.

A door opened in a far off place, indiscernible to him as he stared up at the arched ceiling of stone, tracing the wooden rafter beams that supported such a heavy roof with his eyes.

Then.

Black eyes.

Black concerned eyes, blinking fervidly down at him, and speaking but Kit couldn’t really make out the sounds at first.

Then, Kit?

And Kit grunted in pain. Don’t, he thought, but even that sent spikes of pain down his face and through his skull. Hurts.

“Kit?” Ambrose tried again. Kit moaned. What did Ambrose do to him this time? Everything hurt but was also, somehow, numb? Did he overuse his charm speak on Kit again? No… this feeling was similar but different somehow. “Thank god you’re conscious.”

Kit blinked tiredly up at the black eyes, studying Ambrose’s marble like skin. The shadows of his cheeks and eye sockets, his lips that were slightly crooked to the left, not centred properly. Something imperfect on his face. He never noticed these details about Ambrose before. He felt he should remember them, like they might be something he could use against Ambrose later, but the thought melted into the swirl of the lazy river in his mind and bobbed along out of reach of Kit’s grip.

Kit blinked and his eyes shuttered closed, watching black eyes grow wide with worry before the darkness took hold of him again.

The next time he woke, he lurched straight up, gasping as his entire body burned and he screamed and writhed, twisting away from the hand clamped down tightly on his chest.

In the distance he could hear Ambrose say: “Kit! Kit! It’s okay! It’s okay! You’re fine, you’re safe!”

Kit thrashed in the bed, trying to dislodge the source of the unnatural heat and then as suddenly as it began, the burning stopped and Kit gasped, falling back against the mattress, bleary eyes only seeing the grey stones and brown wood of the ceiling.

A hand pinched his cheeks and turned his head to face two slithering, silver eyes like gleaming molten metal, swirling like mercury. Kit recoiled away, trying to dislodge the hand from his face. He pulled his hands, trying to get them to get this guy’s hand off of him, but he heard two clicks of metal.

As if he had just been slammed down from space into his body, Kit went cold as he realised that he was cuffed to a bed, his hands above his head. Memories flashed back to him, snippets of the last thing he was conscious for and Kit remembered Ambrose and he remembered those silver eyes and his stomach churned.

“Ah, look at that. You do remember.”

Kit didn’t answer but he didn’t dare move his eyes from Supervillain’s face. His maskless face. Ambrose had come in with him, Kit couldn’t remember his name, but he remembered the helpless fear he had around him and—

“Where’s Sawyer and Tides?” Kit asked, his voice hollow even to his own ears. Why did he ask that? What if they were dead? What if Kit was next? Was this Ambrose’s plan all along? To kill him?

Black eyes appeared over Nathan, who was sitting in a chair next to Kit’s bed. “They’re safe, Kit.”

“Where are they?” Ambrose opened his mouth to reply, but Supervillain hummed, his silver eyes forming half moons, gleaming, and Ambrose shut his mouth again. Kit looked at Ambrose. “You— you, Ambrose, let us out, please. Let us go. Tides and Sawyer didn’t do anything!”

“I’m afraid Oskar doesn’t get to decide whether you’re freed or not, Kit.” Silver eyes said. Kit glared at him. “Was it you who smashed all my windows?”

“Yeah, and I’ll do the same to your face if you don’t—” Kit cut himself off screaming, a sudden burning in his chest until he heard Ambrose say Nathan, enough and the pain stopped and Kit fell back against the bed.

Silver eyed Nathan smirked down at Kit. “The youth of today, huh? Breaks a man’s windows and has the gall to threaten him in his own house.”

“You’re a piece of shit!” Kit hissed, scrambling back on the bed, rotating his arms so he could sit up and keep his arms awkwardly cuffed, his right arm stretched over waist but at least he was sitting up, facing the two bastards. At least he could kick at Nathan if he tried anything.

What a stupid name. What kind of Supervillain is called Nathan? Why isn’t he called something better? Grander? And why was Ambrose staring at him like he was trying to tell him something?

Shut up, Kit thought loud enough for Ambrose to hear. I’m mad at you too.

How interesting.

Kit’s wide eyes snapped to Nathan, his heart pounding against his chest. Then his gaze shot back to Ambrose, questioningly.

“What… how does he have your power?”

Nathan answered, leaning forward and grabbing Kit’s wrist. Kit was about to pull back when a burst of blinding white shot behind his eyes and he gasped.

Just as quickly as it began, when Nathan lifted his hand the strange wash of sensation left him and he was left a little drained.

“Bitch…” Kit muttered, suddenly breathless.

Nathan smirked, lifting his fingers in front of his face, humming as he rubbed the pads of his thumb and forefinger together almost thoughtfully. A spark of blue and Kit flinched back.

His eyes went to Ambrose’s black as he scrambled back away from Nathan, fear gripping him in the same way it would a gazelle at seeing a lion crouching in the grass.

“Kit, it’s okay—” Ambrose began but Kit cut him off, his voice wavering in pitch, in strength, in breath.

“No it’s fucking not! What the fuck is wrong with you? Don’t— don’t fucking touch me!”

“Kit,” Ambrose said again, but Nathan was staring at him with his cold, dead eyes and Kit just wanted to flee. Kit’s desperate eyes turned back to Ambrose, his chest heaving but getting no oxygen into his ribs, into his lungs because Nathan was—

“Please,” he whispered, tears coming to his eyes as he stared into black. “Please, Ambrose. Help me. Please. Let me go, please, I can’t—”

He couldn’t explain the raw, primal fear that was coursing through, racking his body with cold shivers as the cuffs jangled off the headboard violently.

“P-please,” Kit whimpered. Ambrose swallowed, his eyes darting between Kit and Nathan and he did the one thing he knew would stop Nathan. He stepped in front of him, blocking Nathan’s sight of Kit and before Nathan could berate him for it, he wrapped his hands around his neck and straddled Nate.

Nathan smirked up at Ambrose, silver irises swirling darker with interest as Ambrose leaned down and kissed him to stop him from saying something.

Kit stared, jaw dropped as he heard the wet sounds of kissing coming from his two tormentors. Jesus, fucking—

Don’t say a word, Ambrose warned, low and quiet. Let me handle this. Don’t even think anything back because he’ll hear you.

Kit swallowed the lump in his throat and looked away, closing his eyes to the sight and tried to calm his fucking nerves that spiked hard around Nathan’s exposure of his power. He must be able to absorb other people’s powers which would explain why he had Mentor’s… and Ambrose’s and now, Kit’s.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Shit! He really needed to get out of here, or else Nathan would fucking kill him and he wouldn’t be able to do a thing to stop him. What if he— what if he made Kit do things, like Ambrose did in the beginning. Kit glanced down at his arms and prayed.

Nathan pulled his head back, breaking the kiss. He smiled up at Ambrose. “You’re so transparent, Oskar,” he hummed fondly.

“You like it.”

“I do.”

Don’t think, don’t think, don’t think, don’t—

“Fine. We’ll leave him be. For now.”

Ambrose hesitated. “Can I—”

“No,” Nathan interjected with a smile and leaned up to kiss Ambrose again. Short, possessive, and then he lightly pushed Ambrose off him. Kit swallowed, watching the exchange with wary eyes darting between the pair.

Nathan walked closer to him and Kit shrunk back, his heart thumping against his chest as Nathan leaned down and grabbed Kit’s chin, pinching it between his thumb and index finger and tilted his head up to look into the emotionless silver eyes.

“Kit,” he said, and Kit could feel the coldness of Ambrose’s power in his voice. He tried to wrench his head back, but Nathan’s grip was too strong. “If Oskar tries to speak to you, I want you to scream pineapple at the top for your voice and I don’t want you to stop until you see me. That includes if he tries to speak through your minds, do you understand?”

Kit felt the command take root in his body, wiring his nerves and muscles to Nathan’s order. “Tell me you understand.”

“I understand,” Kit ground out through clenched teeth.

“Good,” Nathan said, patting his cheek before pulling away. He walked towards the door of the room. “Come on, Oskar. We have other matters to attend to.”

Ambrose took one last look at Kit, an apology and a stiffness winding him tightly, but he didn’t dare speak to Kit. Kit jerked forward when Ambrose turned away. “Wait!”

Ambrose stopped. Nathan let out a huff of a sigh at the door, glancing at Kit as if he were a fly that was buzzing around his food.

“Please, just… tell me where Sawyer and Tides are, please.” He didn’t mean for his voice to come out so broken. Ambrose looked at Nate, and Nate looked at Oskar. Silver eyes rolled to the ceiling and back again before he turned his body to Kit.

“I wiped their memories and sent them home packing. They’re safe, save some minor injuries, and well, Sawyer’s face,” Nathan said with a laugh. Kit glared, but it didn’t do anything to stifle Nathan’s cruelty. “But they don’t know you’re here, so don’t think you have a rescue party coming, Kit. They don’t even remember meeting Supervillain.”

He would have preferred if Nathan had just ripped his heart out and stomped on it rather than tell him that. He just wanted to know they were safe, and they were safe and Kit… Kit was probably going to die here and that was— he flinched when a hot tear splashed down on his cheeks.

Nathan smiled. “Come on, Oskar. Or I’ll have some fun with Kit while you watch.”

Ambrose’s little finger twitched, his body tight as he turned and followed Nathan out the door. His black eyes said I’m sorry, but Kit didn’t want an apology. Especially from someone who seemed to be just as much a prisoner here as Kit.

What was— how did Ambrose know Nathan? Not just know him but kiss him in the most un-Ambrose display of affection Kit has ever seen? And he was just going along with whatever Supervillain was saying?! Ambrose didn’t— there has to be something that Nathan was holding over him, something he cared about that Supervillain was threatening.

If Kit could talk to him one on one maybe he could find out what, and try and help him and they could get out of here together? Kit adjusted himself on the bed, not bothering to try and break free from the cuffs. He needed to sleep, he needed to keep his energy for later. Right now, right now he just needed to sleep. He settled himself and closed his eyes, getting into as comfortable position as possible. Sleep came like a warm blanket, comforting and warm.

He didn’t stir when the bed dipped around him. He barely realised there was a pressure on his chest until a large hand wad covering his mouth to silence his screams of panic. Kit’s eyes shot open, bleary from sleep to see wild green staring down at him. He shook, remembering those eyes from the basement with Supervillain, the one he knocked out to get Tides and Sawyer free.

Jude. Oh fuck. He forgot about him. Shit!

“Oh, so you remember me, you little shit?”

A black burn split Jude’s face like a tattoo, from his left temple down across his nose, splintering out down over his lip, his jaw and disappeared under the collar of his jumper.

Did… Did Kit do that?

Jude leaned in, sneering. “Supervillain got rid of your friends so you’re the only plaything I have left.”

Kit bucked against Jude, screaming against Jude’s hand, but his thumb was locked under Kit’s jaw, preventing him from getting any real volume into it. Jude laughed as Kit squirmed, another hand going to his throat. Kit bucked and yanked his hands down, trying to stop Jude before he knocked him unconscious.

“MMPH!” Kit cried, jerking his head left and right, trying to dislodge the psycho from him.

“Don’t worry, Kit. Supervillain said I can’t kill you, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have fun, hmm?”

Kit’s struggles lessened, his throat burning as he screamed and Jude squeezed, as if he was swallowing glass.

Ambrose! PLEASE! AMBROSE?!

Kit?

Kit’s mouth tried to force pineapple out of his lips but Jude’s grip was so tight it was shadowing his vision, his eyes growing heavy. Kit yanked at his cuffs one last time before the fight died in him and he went limp his world going dark.

And he sprung up gasping, screaming pineapple as loud as he could between coughs, and there was a flurry of movement and fists flying and then Nathan and Kit sat back, coughing, shuddering, gasping in air.

“Enough!” Nathan said, his voice low, but it still cut through Kit’s gasps and struggles, and even he quieted as much as he could. He grabbed Ambrose’s shoulders and dragged him off Jude, standing between them, silver eyes stern as he stared Ambrose down. “I said enough, Oskar.”

“You said you wouldn’t hurt him,” Ambrose spat, glaring up at Nathan. Nathan looked over his shoulder at Kit before looking back at Ambrose.

“You’re right. I said I wouldn’t hurt him. That was before I knew he did that to Jude’s face!”

“And what about what you did to Sawyer’s face!” Kit yelled. Nathan straightened, pinching the bridge of his nose. He tipped his head back and sighed theatrically.

“I forgot by agreeing to your terms I’d have to babysit an infant,” Nathan grumbled. Kit balked at the insult, about to retort when he paused, the rest of his words sinking in and he looked at Ambrose.

Ambrose’s expression was tight on his face. His hair uncharacteristically messy, he wasn’t even wearing business casual or any semblance of clothing that could be considered a suit. He was wearing an oversized crew neck and a pair of joggers and Kit blinked at him, barely recognising the man in front of him as Ambrose.

As Omen? He was even further from that, but… he looked like a man, and Kit knew he was more than that.

“What’re you talking about?” Kit demanded, yanking at the cuffs. “Don’t talk about me like I’m not here!”

Nathan turned his cold, metal eyes on Kit, but this time Kit didn’t wither. He refused. He didn’t understand what was going on right now, but he knew something was wrong! Very wrong.

“You could always let him go,” Ambrose said, his voice soft, gentle, tentative, his hand reaching for Nathan’s wrist. Nathan shook his head. “I’ll stay. You can wipe his memory—”

“No, I can’t, Osk. You ensured that.”

“What’re you talking about?” Ambrose asked. Kit could tell he was fighting to keep the exasperation from his voice as he spoke.

Nathan gestured at Jude. “We compelled them, the three of them that they couldn’t use their powers. The other two were docile, and powerless, you know, like good little obedient puppies.”

“And the moment I released him,” Jude said, glaring at Kit. “He could use his lightning again.”

“Yeah? Well maybe if you weren’t such a sadistic fuc—” Kit’s head slammed back against the wall and he cried out from the pain that blossomed from the blow.

“Nate!” Ambrose gasped, black eyes on Kit’s, and he stepped forward, but Nathan put his hand out keeping Ambrose back behind. “You said you wouldn’t hurt him!”

“I said I wouldn’t kill him, Oskar. Maybe you should listen better, but right now, Jude has to get in line because I want to kill the fucking child.”

“Call me a child again, see—”

“KIT!” Ambrose boomed and Kit blinked, startled, staring at Ambrose with wide eyes like a puppy that was caught disobeying it’s master.

“Pineap—” Kit began but when he looked at Nathan the urge died in his throat. Nathan waved him away and said: “you don’t have to do that anymore.” And the command washed over Kit.

Kit looked at Ambrose with his wide, kicked puppy eyes. Questioning.

Nathan turned to Ambrose and said quietly: “you calm him down, or else I’ll let Jude do what he wants and make you watch.” Nathan looked at Kit. “This doesn’t mean you get away with hurting Jude. You’ll still be punished.”

“Oh bite me, arsehole!”

Ambrose jumped between Nathan and Jude, and Kit, spreading his arms wide. “I’ll talk to him! Okay? I’ll talk to him. Please.”

Nathan smiled, his hand going to Ambrose’s cheek. He leaned down and kissed Ambrose. Kit and Jude both looking away in disgust.

“You’re lucky you’re so cute,” he said, kissing Ambrose again before he followed Jude out the door. Ambrose didn’t lower his arms until they heard footsteps on the stairs. Only then did his shoulders droop. He walked over and closed the door before sighing, resting his forehead against it.

Before Kit could demand answers, Ambrose’s shoulders shook, palms flat against the door. “I’m sorry, Kit,” he said, and Kit couldn’t do anything except gawk and stare, mouth open. Ambrose…

Ambrose was crying?

Oh shit. What did he say? Should he say something?

“I’m so sorry,” he whimpered, and the sound pulled at something in Kit’s gut.

“Hey, Ambrose… it’s—” the words died on his throat when Ambrose turned to face him and yep, he was crying. Tears streaming down his statue like cheeks, like crystal droplets that hung like icicles from his jaw.

“It’s not okay. None of this is okay. This is all my fault and you’re involved because of me.”

“No, I’m involved cause I’m a hero—”

“He let Sawyer and Tides go. He was telling the truth,” Ambrose said coming over to the bed and half falling into it. “He’s keeping you here to make sure I listen to him.”

Kit laughed nervously. Ambrose raised his black eyes, that looked a softer brown when he cried, and frowned. “Did you tell him you don’t give a shit about me? That you were torturing me to begin with? You could probably bond over that.”

Despite himself, Ambrose laughed. He sniffed, wiping his cheeks. “He’d probably bond too much over it, and it would become a couples activity.”

“Oh,” Kit said. “Maybe not then.”

“No,” and a silence fell over them. Kit stared at Ambrose as the man tried to compose himself. He looked so… normal. So regular. Kit wouldn’t remember him if Ambrose walked by him on the street like this.

Kit swallowed. “What did he do to you?”

Ambrose let out a humourless chuckle, running his hands through his midnight hair. He shrugged, eyes red rimmed and puffy. “What he’s always done.”

Kit didn’t know how to reply to that, but he didn’t have to because Ambrose continued, “we met in college. He was… he, well, I thought at the time that his ability was magic negation because he wasn’t affected by my friend’s fire, and I couldn’t command him to do anything or read his thoughts. It was so… he was so…” Ambrose said, gesturing, reaching for the word evading him.

“Magnetic.” He settled on eventually, his voice taking on a wistful quality to it. “I didn’t know what he was thinking. I couldn’t be repulsed or bored of his thoughts because I didn’t know… and it’s like, well, it sounds ridiculous but I felt normal around him.”

Kit scoffed, resting his head back against the wall. “You’re so humble, Rosey,” Kit said, sarcasm dripping from every word. Ambrose laughed, more tears jerking down his face.

“Yeah… I kind of got addicted to him, trying to figure out what he thought of me, and what he thought of everything full stop. My friend tried to tell me I was obsessed with him, but it didn’t feel like that. He— I—”

“Loved him?” Kit supplied. Ambrose’s head hung, lifeless.

“Yes.” He said. “I loved him.” He turned his body to face Kit, putting his sock-clad feet up on the bed. His expression earnest. “But I didn’t know anything about this, Kit. I didn’t know any of it, I swear to you—”

“I believe you.”

“This was as much of a shock to me as it—” Ambrose paused, tilting his head. “You believe me?”

“Yeah,” Kit said with a shrug. “You haven’t really lied to me before. So I believe you. It’s just—” Kit could see Ambrose brace himself for the but, “you look so unlike yourself. Like you’re not even Ambrose right now, but someone else. Is he forcing you to do this?” Kit asked, gesturing to Ambrose’s clothes and hair.

Ambrose swallowed his pride and looked away. “Yes,” he replied hollowly. “He wants me to be the same lost puppy who was following him around when we were together. He wants me to be… Oskar.”

A weighted silence fell over them after the confession. Ambrose had never told Kit his name, Kit learned from Mentor what his name was, but to hear him say it with such contempt, Kit finally knew why he abandoned it. It was because of Mentor, because of Nathan, he abandoned Oskar long ago, and Ambrose replaced him.

Kit didn’t know this other side of Ambrose. The side that Nathan knew, and he didn’t want to, he realised. Ambrose seemed a bit more human like this, flawed, lost, out of control. He didn’t want to know that part of Ambrose. A sudden, sharp anger jolted in him.

“You can’t just be Oskar, you’re not him anymore. If Nathan really loved you, he’d understand that.”

“Kit—”

“No, I am not letting you do that. Not for me, Heroes sacrifice themselves for others, not villains, Ambrose. You’re a villain!”

“I can’t compel him,” Ambrose said, dejected.

“Just let me out of these and I can electrocute the bastard and finish Jude off too.”

Ambrose shook his head. “You can’t.”

“I can—”

“No, he absorbs your ability, Kit. All of your ability. Which means he absorbed your resistances too.”

Kit stared. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh shit.”

Ambrose sighed. “Yeah.”

“But…” Kit began, leaning forward until the cuffs pulled him taut. “You were inventive with me. You still hurt me! With my own electricity, despite the resistances I had to it. We can do that with him too!”

“We still have to deal with Jude.”

Kit’s expression darkened. “Let me deal with Jude.”

“You don’t understand,” Ambrose said, shaking his head and getting to his feet. He began pacing up and down the small room. Kit yanked against his cuffs, longing to stretch his legs too. “They can hurt you, Kit. They can— they could—”

“What do you care?” Kit asked, bewildered. “You’ve hurt me!”

“I know, but—”

“No, no, no. No buts, ands or ifs, Rosey, you hurt me. You psychologically destroyed me for months!” Kit said, blinking at Ambrose owlishly. “You expect me to believe you actually care about me now?”

Ambrose stiffened, turning on his heels and walked over to Kit, grabbing him by the wrists. His black eyes met Kit’s wide blue. “Yes. I do. And I care what happens to you. And Jude and Nathan? Nate will only hold Jude back for as long as I play this role of his puppy ex-boyfriend. Do you understand? If you weren’t here I would be gone, but he has you. And as long as he has you, he has me.”

Kit swallowed, his eyes flicking between Ambrose’s, his mouth suddenly dry. “I know him, and I am not leaving here without you. Do you understand me?”

Kit nodded stiffly. Ambrose nodded and let go of Kit’s arms, standing straight again. “I will try to get you out of here, Kit, but we have to play it smart, okay?”

Kit nodded again. Ambrose nodded again. He fixed his hair, making it more fluffy and unruly. Kit never noticed it was wavy because he just slicked it back all the time. It softened his edges. Kit didn’t like it.

“Okay. Just— don’t provoke them, okay? I’ll work something out.”

“Okay.”

Ambrose took a deep breath. “Right. Good. Stay put.”

“Dick,” Kit said. It slipped out before he could help it and he froze, but Ambrose looked over his shoulder at Kit and laughed. A warm laugh, shaking his head.

*~*~*~*~*

Very unedited but c’est la vie!!

@beatenbruisedandbloody @404lunar1216 @whumpyworld @nameless-beanie @andithewhumper @annablogsposts @whumpasaurus101 @0eggdealer @rejectedbytheempty @sleepy-pearl @n3rv0usn0v4 @whumpatize-me-captain @sunshiline-writes @burningkittypoet @honeyed-euphrates @sacredwrath @theonewithallthefixations @blood-enthusiast t @tippytappytyping @shinokoro @bedtimescenarios @whatwhump @acer-whumpstuff @fa1rie @jesterrinobutter tter @xxgalgurlxx @princess-bubble-blossom @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @dutifullykrispyland @memepsychowhowantsuperpower-blog @ehobep

[worldboywhump]

Gangs Of London- S2: E3

[whumpdreaming]

Whumpee, under any normal circumstances, would fervently deny that they'd ever like a stuffed animal --- they're too strong and capable for such a thing, and would feel the same way even if they were injured or sick.

But when Caretaker peeks inside their room, they're fast asleep and clinging tightly to the very same plushie they'd once ridiculed 🥺❤️

[zoethehead]

A whumpee wakes up in a comfortable bed, quilts piled atop their body, their injuries bandaged up. They blink away the smudged hazes from their vision as they groan. They piece together what had happened, no matter how traumatic it was, trying to remember what they had been through, but how did they end up being so fortunate to survive and end up in a soft, cozy bed?

(Feel free to add onto it)

[whumpshots]

Whumptober #29

Trope of the day: “What happened to me?”

_

Machines are beeping, footsteps walking in and out of the room. Someone talks to another person, but they can't hear out anything they are saying.

Whumpee remembers the coldness in the cell they had been sitting in for weeks. Their body throbbed and hurt with every breath they took, now they are warm and ... painless.

Is this death?

It takes a few more moments for them to finally open their heavy lids, the room is not as bright as they anticipated. The talking stops and someone rushes to their sides.

There are hands on them, warm and gentle. Whumpee's throat hurts as they open their mouth and croak “What happened to me?”

[whump-queen]

captive whumpee kept intermittently drugged out of their mind, fading in and out of consciousness randomly,

with no idea what whumper did to them while they were knocked out.

[hurtcomfortguaranteed]

In Hercules in the Maze of the Minotaur, Hercules rescues a disoriented Iolaus from the very strangely gooey trap of the Minotaur.

[whumperer-86]

Justice in the dark (Bromance Chinese drama) recalls the accident

This drama is filled with whump,, the male lead has so much trauma that gets into his head, also he has a phobia of seeing blood , I don't know the medical term for it

this drama is very good but unfortunately, there are a lot of whump scenes deleted because it shows care from his friend

[whumpybobbert]

The Flash 1x13

Clarissa Stein: Stalker

Ronnie Raymond/Dr. Martin Stein: Disoriented and confused, ticking time-bomb, self-sacrifice

[chaotic-orphan]

Whumptober No. 10

Blow to the Head

Slurred Words // Passing Out from Pain // “I can't think straight.”

*~*~*~*~*

Hero was tired. They were tired but restless, they didn’t want to think. They didn’t want to run into Superhero and talk over the shitshow that was their last week. They just wanted to sleep, but their body didn’t wanted to move so Hero detoured to their local gym on the way home. This way he could expend his energy without the risk of another Hero wanting to sit him down and just talk about it. You’ll feel better.

No, Hero knew he wouldn’t. So he grabbed his gym bag from the backseat and walked up the stairs. “Hey Ricky,” Hero greeted walking past the booth, not waiting to hear a reply.

Though usually, he thought in some faraway part of his mind as he pushed open the door to the gym, Ricky replied. He didn’t have time to think too deeply about it before something metal and heavy struck him over the back of the head and Hero dropped to the ground, quickly rolling to his feet and standing cautiously, the world spinning.

He blinked, swallowing thickly, one hand stretched out to his attacker and the other gingerly inspecting his head and yeah, that was blood.

Shit.

“Who are you?” Hero asked, but his words all ran together into one car crash of a word. A mockery of speech. His attacker stepped forward and swung again, but Hero caught the weapon with a hiss on his hand, the metal stinging his palm.

He tried to get a proper grip of it but the weapon was out of his hands before he could even attempt it, and swinging at his knee. Hero yelled, his leg folding but he stayed standing. A blow to the forearm, and the cheek and Hero fell again, gasping out what should’ve been a cry of pain but he didn’t get enough breath when his attacker stood on his back, shoe pressed between his shoulder blades until Hero was flailing like a worm on a hook, pinned to the ground.

Hero restrained a sharp cry to a grunt when his attacker pressed all his weight onto his foot on Hero’s shoulders.

“Who am I, little Hero?” Hero stilled, the voice like ice running through his veins. “Oh,” the voice said with a laugh. “Look at that, you do remember me. Do you remember your training?”

Hero swallowed, fingers tightening uselessly into fists by his side. “How— how, you— is— what did you do to Ricky?” He settled on, his brain moving too slow to form a proper question in his mouth.

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about Ricky, Hero. I’d worry about you. Sweet dreams.”

“N—” The word didn’t leave his mouth, only a flash of protest and then his world went dark.

And as suddenly as it happened, Hero woke with a jolt, his head turned to the side, a stinging in his cheek, and there was no brief respite of peace where he didn’t know where he was. He knew exactly where he was, he was in Ricky’s gym, still, thankfully, and Villain was—

A hand on his jaw and Hero’s head was wrenched back, facing the ceiling, and then he saw Villain’s bright eyes that chilled him to the bone.

Hero jerked up but was stopped by a strap on his chest, tying him to the bench. He jerked his hands forward but they wouldn’t budge above his head. He didn’t dare tilt his head back to see what was stopping him from moving, swallowing thickly. Terrified eyes focused on the reason why Hero was here instead of at the hero tower tonight.

“Have a nice sleep, Hero? Did you dream of me?”

“Le-let me go.”

“Oh, he speaks actual coherent words!” Hero opened his mouth to snap at Villain, before he remembered himself and shut it quickly. Despite everything he tried to fool himself into believing, all the things he wished weren’t true, Hero did remember his training, and he remembered what triggers set Villain off. “I won’t let you go, Hero, you’re right where I want you. You and me, together again. Did you miss me?”

“Villain, please… please. I didn’t- I didn’t tell anyone anything! I knew you wouldn’t like it if I did.”

Villain hummed happily, running his fingers through Hero’s hair, almost lovingly. “Oh, Hero. I know you didn’t tell anyone. Which you’re right, I am pleased about. That’s why I’m here. If Superhero or god knows, Other Hero caught wind of our time together, well, you wouldn’t have been let leave their sight.”

Hero was shaking, his bottom lip trembling as Villain spoke so simply. So matter of fact. But he was in a good mood. That’s what mattered. That’s what actually mattered right now, not the fact that Hero was an idiot and they should’ve told Superhero about Villain.

“So really, Hero,” Villain continued, knuckle tracing the outline of his skull down to his cheek and pinching them between his fingers until Hero’s mouth formed an uncomfortable O shape. “It’s because of your loyalty to me that I was allowed to visit you so soon. Would you like to come home, hmm? Would you like that?”

Hero tried to say no, tried to make their mouth move around Villain’s fingers but all he could manage was the oh, part of no, and it got even more difficult when the tears started.

“Oh, I know, Hero. You’re just so happy to see me, aren’t you? You’re overcome with emotion. Don’t worry. This time, I will never, ever, let you go.”

*~*~*~*~*

Whumptober masterpost here

[whumpty-dumpty-doo]

Rooms to whump your guy in: carpeted and mirrored master suite

Images from here and here

[another-whump-sideblog]

Jane’s Pets Chapter 56: New Friends

TWs in the tags

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When your vision clears, you’re not in the woods anymore. That’s all you can figure out before you collapse, dizzy and nauseas and with your head hurting so bad you can barely think.

You feel hands on you and hear concerned voices. You’re weightless for a moment, and then you’re lying on something soft. You cover your ears and squeeze your eyes shut.

The voices retreat, and you try to focus on your breathing.

~~

“Shit, did she do something? What’s wrong with them?” Diya whispers.

“They seemed okay before the teleportation. It’s probably just a bad reaction. It happens, especially if you’re not in the best condition beforehand. There’s not much we can do for now, we’ll just have to keep them as comfortable as possible until they start feeling better. It shouldn’t last longer than a few hours.” Barron pauses. “Let’s get you bandaged up, Karen.”

Diya grimaces as Barron leaves the room to get the first aid kit. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think that would happen. I thought they’d be happy to be rescued.”

Karen stares at Diya intensely. Ey still isn’t used to that. “It was a fair assumption.”

Barron comes back and starts bandaging Karen’s face. “I think they broke your nose…” it mutters.

Diya wanders back over to Liam, who is breathing hard. That collar cannot be helping.

Ey gently removes the collar. Liam whimpers and their breathing gets faster.

Diya backs away, assuming that touching them is what caused the panic. “What should we do with this?” Ey waves the collar in the air.

“We’ll let Liam decide.” Barron says. “Can you go get some ice packs?”

~~

Puppy pounds her fists against the bubble and screams. She’d be saying something - she’s not sure what, but something - if she was given permission, but she doesn’t have permission, so she just screams.

“Calm down, Puppy.”

At Master’s order, Puppy goes still. She’s a good girl, a good Puppy. She can push the anger down.

Master continues poking at the bubble before pulling some tools out of her void. She stabs it and hammers it and even fucking shoots it, but the bubble is unyielding.

Master teleports out of the bubble and starts poking the outside of it. “I’m disappointed. In both of you. You should’ve grabbed Bunny. Or attacked the magic user. Or the one grabbing Bunny. Anything but what you did. I’ll have to punish you.”

Kitty tenses, but doesn’t say anything. Puppy is calm. Master told her to calm down, so she’s calm.

Master stabs the bubble again. “Both of you, collars off.”

Puppy removes her collar. There’s blood on her hands.

She’d thought Master would like for her to hurt them, but Master didn’t even want her to hurt the stranger. Master would’ve preferred for her to grab Bunny. She hurt them, and Master didn’t order to her to. She didn’t hurt them because she had to. She hurt them because she wanted to.

Puppy knows she’s not a good person. It’s one of the many things Master took from her. Normally, though, she can convince herself it’s not her fault. Not this time.

Puppy feels cold tears running down her face and onto her neck. She’s calm. She’s a good Puppy. There’s blood on her hands.

~~

When the pain and dizziness have receded enough that you can think again, you start to take in your surroundings.

You’re lying on a couch in what looks like a wood cabin. You can’t see any windows from where you’re lying, and the room is fairly dark. Diya is sitting in a chair next to the couch, but it looks like ey’s asleep.

You slowly push yourself to a sitting position. Pain explodes through your head again. You must’ve made a noise, because Diya opens eir eyes and yawns.

“How are you feeling? Sorry about… all of that. It looks like you had a bad reaction to the teleporting.”

“You can teleport living things?”

“Barron can. Do you want me to go get Barron and Karen? I didn’t know if you’d want to talk to all of us or if it’d be easier with just me, but if you have questions it’d probably be easier with all of us.”

“…I have a lot of questions.”

“Right. I’ll go get them.”

Diya hurries out of the room and comes back with two others. The magic user and the one Puppy beat up. Barron and Karen.

“So you’re Diya, Barron, and Karen, right?”

“Greg.” Says the beat up one. “You can call me Greg.”

The others look surprised. “It was due for a change.” They clarify.

“…Alright. Diya, Barron, and Greg. What pronouns should I use for you?”

Barron answers. “I use it/its pronouns. Diya uses ey/em. Kar- Greg uses they/them. And you?”

You’re not sure how you feel about Barron speaking for all of them, but the others don’t seem to have a problem with it. “I use he/him. Now that that’s out of the way. Where are we?”

“This is our base of operations.” Barron says.

Diya jumps in. “Our home. Where we live. We don’t have any more bedrooms, but we can get you a mattress and stuff. Or you can sleep on the couch.”

You nod. Ouch. “And we… teleported here?”

Barron frowns. “Yes. Sorry we didn’t warn you beforehand, it can cause reactions like the one you had.”

You swallow. “And you said that you can make sure Jane won’t find us?”

“Is that the monster? The little girl? Well, I guess it doesn’t matter, no one can find us here unless I want them to.”

“She has this… void thing. She can watch us while she’s in it. Will she be able to see this place through that?”

Barron furrows its brow. “I’ve never heard of something like that. But the magic around the cabin prevents people from using magic to see into it or magically locate it. So she shouldn’t be able to see you as long as you’re here.”

You’re safe. She can’t find you here. Tears spring to your eyes. “Thank you. I… are we going back for the others? I know they didn’t want to come, but they just don’t think safety is possible.”

“We can’t help people who don’t want to be helped. We can wait a while and try again, if you want. Maybe they’ll believe it after a while of you not getting brought back.”

That will have to be good enough. You can’t ask them to risk their safety again so soon when Kitty and Puppy don’t even want to leave. “Alright. Thank you. What can I do to repay you?”

Greg, who has been quiet for a while, abruptly leaves. Barron sighs. “You don’t have to repay us. We’d like you to help us keep the cabin tidy, and it would be very helpful if you could tell us everything you know about Jane so we can figure out what she is. But that’s not required. We’re not going to kick you out if you don’t help us.”

“I want to help.” You try to stand up, and your head seems to explode again. You fall to the ground. “Maybe… tomorrow, though.”

Barron and Diya help you back onto the couch.

“Of course.” Barron says. “The side effects of the teleportation should be gone by then.”

You should probably tell it about your head, and how that will still be an issue no matter how long ago you teleported. But suddenly, you’re painfully aware of the lack of pressure around your neck.

“What happened to my collar?”

Diya looks concerned. “I took it off because it looked like you were struggling to breathe. Do you… want it back?”

“Yes.”

Diya fishes the collar out of eir pocket. You grab it and quickly clasp it around your neck.

You’re safe. You know you’re safe, and yet you only feel like you can truly relax with the collar back on.

You’ll get to the point where you feel safe with the collar off. But not tonight. Tonight, the conditioning Jane did wins out.

“That’s… that’s way too tight, Liam.”

Diya keeps talking, but you can’t hear. You feel like a shockwave has gone through you. You feel a whip on your back and you can’t breathe and your head hurts and when did it get so hot in here?

“What’s wrong?!”

Aw, what’s wrong, Bunny? Does that hurt?

“I don’t remember, I don’t remember, please, I don’t remember it.” Your collar is on, you’re not being punished, so why does it all hurt so bad? You can’t breathe!

I don’t believe you. Hold still.

Someone grabs your collar and you scream, shoving them away. Jane isn’t here, you know that, but if she’s taking off the collar that means you’re going to get punished and you can’t, you can’t!

Don’t fight me.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please! I’ll be good, a good Bunny, please?”

It’s adorable that you still think begging will help you.

“Liam, you’re not there. You’re safe.”

What’s your name? What letter does it start with?

“I don’t remember! I don’t remember it!” She’s going to hurt you, she’s going to break your bones and cut you open! You can’t, you can’t.

Good! Good boy, Liam.

“Liam, can you tell me five things you can see?”

You’re not the brightest, are you? Stupid Bunny.

You can’t, you can’t, you can’t.

Oh, I think that was a seizure.

“Can you hear me?”

Sweet little Bunny. Do you feel powerful?

You nod slightly. Wait, what? Your head hurts, everything hurts.

You just want me to stop hurting you.

“What can we do to make you feel better?”

You shake like a little bunny.

You can’t stop shaking. She’s going to hurt you.

What have you done to deserve food, Bunny?

“How about I just make suggestions, and then you just nod or shake your head for me. Does that sound okay?”

Be good for me, alright?

You nod.

We still have work to do, Liam.

“Would it help to get you a weighted blanket? That always helps me when I’m panicking.”

You can crawl if that’s easier.

You nod. You’re willing to try anything, you’re so confused and scared.

I’ll hurt Puppy and Kitty if you disobey.

You feel something heavy drape around your shoulders. At first it scares you, but it’s gentle, and it reminds you more of hugs from Puppy than of being pinned down.

“There. It seemed to help you before to be left alone, so I’m going to set some water and food down here and then go. Call for me if you need me, okay?”

Follow me.

You nod.

“It’ll be okay.”

Who wants to go first?

You curl deeper into the blanket. You’re safe, you’re safe.

You wish Puppy and Kitty were here.

Through the shaking and crying, you somehow manage to fall asleep.

A/N: Let me know if I should tag anything else!

Tag list: @eatyourdamnpears @whump-in-the-closet @scp-1296 @fuzzybucketz

[zoethehead]

Adding this to my new guy.

Ya know the thing characters do before they come to consciousness? That perfect lil thing where they do that wince, and their eyes which are closed squeeze shut even tighter as their brows forrow, then they slowly open their eyes, blinking against the too-bright light, especially coupled with a soft little noise of distress… just such good shit 👌

[cravesunconditionallove]

Military whump prompts

(because Reddit is down and I’m chronically online)

Hearing the whumpee’s screams over the radio as they’re captured, the rest of the team frozen in horror.

• Patch job in the middle of the battlefield, someone pressing down on a wound with their bare hands, whispering, “Stay with me, okay? Just stay.”

• Post-mission debrief, but the whumpee is barely holding it together, swaying on their feet as the adrenaline wears off.

• The whumpee refusing pain meds because they need to “stay sharp,” only to pass out mid-conversation.

• “I don’t leave people behind,” they growl, limping and bleeding but refusing to abandon the unconscious teammate over their shoulder.

• Waking up in a field hospital, disoriented and panicked, pulling out the IV before being restrained by a firm but gentle voice.

• “We’re not going to make it.” “Yes, we are.” Cue one of them doing something reckless to ensure the other gets out alive.

• Cold, soaked to the bone, huddled in a ruined building during a downpour, one of them feverish while the other desperately tries to keep them awake.

• Hiding an injury to avoid being benched, only for it to get worse at the worst possible moment.

• “You don’t understand—I can’t go back. I can’t be discharged.”

• A high-ranking officer demanding a mission debrief while the whumpee is barely conscious, words slurring, bleeding through their uniform.

• A medic struggling to save the whumpee in the back of a jolting vehicle, yelling for the driver to go faster.

• Post-rescue, sitting by the whumpee’s bedside, counting every beep of the heart monitor like a prayer.

[whumpshots]

Whump ABC #18 - Restrained

Based on the results of this poll.

_

Whumpee wakes up with their head throbbing and their eyes already hurting from the little bit of light above them. They blink and grunt softly, trying to move their body, which won't listen to the command.

Their hearing takes a few moments to filter out the words whispered and muttered, but their brain does not identify the voices of caretaker and team leader. It makes their heart beat faster and panic rise in their chest.

"Do you think it's a good idea?" One voice whispers.

"We didn't have another choice, they were attacking everyone in their panic," the second retorts and whumpee tries to move again.

Once their vision clears and they are able to move their head, whumpee sees that they have been restrained, ankles and wrists tied to keep them from moving. Despite wanting to fight it, whumpee rests their head against the pillow again.

The pillow ... weren't they with whumper only moments ago? Strapped to a table, cold and hard against their bare skin? Who were the people just now?

Whumpee tries to struggle against the restraints, but they are too weak. The voices start talking again, but their brain just won't realise who they are ... and the struggle against the restraints becomes more desparate.

[whump-queen]

someone just gave me the amazing idea of multiple whumpers but it’s all clones of me

imagine how fucked you’d be with multiple clone!akias