#everyone is the whumpee and everyone is the caretaker

[mj-iza-writer]

Two notes before getting onto this story.

1. This is about a bladder prolapse. That can make people uncomfortable. So reader beware.

2. This goes for everyone... practice your kegels. Everyone can have a issus with their pelvic floor, though this is more possible for those with a vaginal presenting body. Kegels.... kegels... kegels, and schedule with you obgyn. I know they're scary, but take care of yourself.

Caretaker jumped out of bed.

It was never a good thing when your wife called for you like this. It was even worse when they were shrieking.

"Honey what's going on?", Caretaker huffed from the outside of the bathroom, "Whumpee?"

"It's falling out", Whumpee yelled.

"Wh-whats falling out?",Caretaker slowly opened the door.

"I-I don't know, something is definitely sticking out that shouldn't be there", Whumpee sobbed.

"Uh, le-let me see", Caretaker frowned.

Whumpee sat on the toilet with one hand holding their private area.

"I don't want you to", Whumpee sobbed harder, "I don't even want to move."

"Honey, we have been married for a long time. This may be something that happens to us elderly fokes", Caretaker knelt down.

"I don't want to move my hands", Whumpee whimpered.

"Okay", Caretaker sighed and brushed Whumpee's tears away, "I'm going to call for an ambulance, and we will go to the hospital. Can I at least move you to the bed?"

Whumpee sniffled as they thought for a moment.

"I don't want to move", Whumpee repeated through tears.

Whumpee blushed at the first responders when they came in.

"I'm sorry, I'm too nervous to move", Whumpee looked down at themself.

"You're alright", one of them smiled comfortingly, "we are going to lift you up and lay you down on the gurney here. Gravity will stop making it feel like it's moving down. We do have to look really quick after you lay down, then we will get you covered up okay."

Whumpee nodded, "where's my husband?"

"I'm right here honey", Caretaker called from the other side of the door, "I'm just staying out of the way."

"One... two... three", Whumpee was lifted up then laid on the gurney.

"Ooh, you both are so strong", Whumpee commented.

"Thankyou", both of the responders smiled.

"Don't be flirting with them dear", Caretaker chuckled.

"We are going to take a look now", the responder went down near the problem, "I'm betting it's your bladder or something from your pelvic floor organs, but let's have a look."

"Honey, I'm going to drive to the hospital in the car. It's pretty late, so we will wait to text the kids until the morning", Caretaker followed the first responders as they carried the gurney down the stairs.

"Okay be careful dear", Whumpee tried to glance up at them.

"I will, you guys take care of her. She's the love of my life", Caretaker chuckled.

"Yes sir", they both responded.

"Yep, that is definitely your bladder", the doctor confirmed after some testing and images were taken.

"My wive's bladder is truly falling out", Caretaker leaned up to hold Whumpee's hand.

"Yes, this can be quite common for anyone really, especially ladies. Have you carried children?", the doctor set a few things aside.

"Yes, a few", Whumpee nodded.

"All vaginally delivered?", the doctor looked under the blanket.

"Two vaginally, our third was special and decided they needed to be c-sectioned out", Caretaker sighed, "are you saying this is because of pregnancy."

"It can happen. If you carry children, your pelvic floor can be affected. If it's a bad pregnancy and you don't get pelvic floor therapy, or even something as simple as practicing kegels, your pelvic floor weakens. As you get older, you run a risk of bladder prolapse."

Whumpee shuddered as the doctor felt around.

"Sir, I'm going to show you how to push this back up. I recommend going to a gynecologist for their opinion. If they deem it necessary you may have a surgery to prepare it", the doctor slowly poked the bladder back up while Caretaker watched, "you may get lucky and just require a pessery to help keep things in place."

"Pessery?", Whumpee shivered at the sensation.

"I'm sorry, I know that feels weird", the doctor covered her with the blanket again, "a pessery is a plastic disk or varying sizes. Your gynecologist will help size you to make sure you get the most comfortable one. It goes up in your vagina, and can be removed. You will probably be required to go back to your doctor every few months for maintenance and cleaning as well."

"That sounds horribly uncomfortable", Whumpee frowned.

"So does having your bladder falling out", the doctor sighed, "I can get you a referral to a gynecologist if you don't have one already. I definitely recommend getting an appointment soon though."

"I'll call tomorrow morning", Caretaker kissed Whumpee's hand, "when the office opens ."

"So you do have a doctor then?", the doctor stood.

"Yes", Caretaker nodded, "funnily enough, she just had her breast and pelvic exam done."

"No papsmear young lady?", the doctor chuckled.

"Not at my age", Whumpee sighed, "I'm too old for one of those now."

"We'll keep her here overnight for monitoring. If you want, a nurse can bring in a blanket and pillow. You can sleep here overnight", the doctor turned to Caretaker.

"I suppose I might. I'm not a fan of driving in the dark with my old eyes. I'd hate to bother one of our kids... it's so late", Caretaker stood and kissed Whumpee's forehead, "we'll figure this out dear."

Whumpee nodded as their eyes glistened with tears.

"No need to cry. I'm right here with you for better or worse... sick or in health... no matter what", Caretaker kissed her head again, "I love you."

"I love you too", Whumpee's lip quivered.

"I'll send a nurse in to get you both settled", the Doctor went to the door, "have a good night."

"You have a good night as well Doctor. I'll try to keep her under control", Caretaker chuckled at his wife.

"Me, dear?", Whumpee giggled.

"I love you", Caretaker leaned into the bed and kissed Whumpee again, "I love you so much. We will get this figured out."

This story was written with my grandparents as inspiration; along with my job as a medical receptionist for an obgyn. Practice you kegels. -MJ

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all. First list...

@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots

@whumpbump @everythingsscary

@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee

@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers

@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas

@lumpofsand @watermeezer

@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains

@risk606 @electrons2006

@paperprinxe @whumprince

@kaz-of-crows @mis-graves

@decaffeinatedtimetraveler94 @sausages-things

@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud

@valravnthefrenchie @glennemerald

@jasperthecapser @does-directions

@deafeninglittlecrown @jumpywhumpywriter

@blackbirdsinatrenchcoat @mylifeisonthebookshelf

@thenormalestever @whatwhump

@galatic-worm @starmoon-constellation

[chaotic-orphan]

Heyyyy I was wondering if maybe you'd consider writing about a Hero that gets so depressed they start getting reckless in their fights, maybe going so far as to try and do themselves in. And can Villain or someone save them? Please? I feel a bit like Hero right now and I could use a Villain haha haha hahahahaha

Bestie this is why I write so many suicidal heroes getting saved by villains… I think we all relate to those Heroes sometimes, and y’know what? Most of the time, you have to be your own villain💛 but I’m writing this Villain to save you Nonny, don’t self destruct please, and do something nice for yourself x

*~*~*~*~*

“Hero! You’re here!” The Fire deputy said.

“Yep,” Hero said through clenched teeth, blood dripping down the side of their head from their previous altercation with Muscle Villain who was enjoying the luxurious experience of the back of a police car right about now.

“Flame hero is already in there, rescuing civilians but you’re—”

Hero nodded. “I’ll see if I can help.”

The Fire deputy protested but Hero was already in the burning building, their arm over their mouth and nose to lower the effect of smoke inhalation. Not that Hero was sure it mattered or not. They weren’t exactly trained for search and rescue in fires, but they could do it. They could help.

They heard crying from upstairs and they glanced up, the smoke singed their eyes and they let out a hiss as the heat licked at them from the flames. Wood crackled all around them as Hero went to the stairs. They grabbed the railing and cursed as their hand sizzled against the heat.

Fuck! Fuck! That hurt— shit…

“Hero?!” Hero glanced up to see Flame Hero, concerned eyes behind their signature goggles. Probably for the eyes. Hero should have gotten some before they charged in. “WHAT ARE YOU—”

Before Flame Hero could scream more a support beam crackled and groaned and fell, shaking the building. Hero had to jump out of the way as the a square of the second floor disintegrated and debris and dust descended, going up in a puff of smoke and catching Hero’s lungs. Hero coughed, their throat burning as they wheezed out the smoke.

“Hero!” Flame Hero cried through their mask. Probably filtered smoke from their lungs. “Are you okay?”

Hero blinked in the heat. The support beam had swung down between Hero and the stairs. “Yeah!” They screamed back. “I’m fine! I’ll look for survivors down here.”

Hero didn’t wait for a response. They started to get lightheaded, but they were lightheaded after their fight with Muscle Villain too, so they could take a little bit of smoke damage, right? How many minutes did people usually have before their lungs gave up? A few minutes? Under ten? They could do this. They’ve only been in here two minutes.

They turned the corner and the flames roared as a pipe exploded and Hero was thrown backwards and out the window of the ground floor out into the street. Their back hit the brickwork of the alley, stealing the last remnants of oxygen from Hero’s chest with a thud an a strangled oomph.

They were pretty sure they blacked out a moment on impact, because next thing they knew they were on the ground, on their stomach gasping and coughing as fresh air assaulted their senses.

Fuck… they really were lightheaded. But… they would be fine. They’re always fine. Hero got onto all fours and groaned as they pushed their legs out so their feet were stretched behind them in a plank. They pushed themselves up and got halfway before stumbling into the wall, grabbing it clumsily and falling again, scraping their side against it.

“Fuck…” they whispered, letting out laboured breaths. Their back was aching and did not appreciate Hero putting all their weight on their arms. Hero gasped as they felt something sharp pierce the skin of their palm and yanked their hand up to see a shard of glass. They glanced around and the alleyway was littered with broken pieces of glass that glittered like stars in the moonlight, reflecting Hero’s face back up at them.

Their knee also reflected Hero’s face and they hissed as they grabbed that big shard and yanked it out. They grabbed their roll of meditape that they used for just about everything and wrapped it around the knee to stop the bleeding. For now… at least. Then they tried to get up again.

Forgetting about the shard in their palm Hero let out a pained grunt as they felt the glass dig further into their skin on the ground and they threw their head back to stare at the black, velvet sky, tears pinpricking their eyes.

“Hero?!” Flame Hero demanded. Then there was the sound of footsteps and crunching glass and hands on their upper arms dragging Hero to a standing. Flame Hero looked angry. “What the fuck were you doing in there?! Huh?”

“I…” Hero began then descended into bouts of coughing.

“You could have died! You don’t even have a mask or goggles or anything! You could still die from the short amount of smoke inhal—” Flame Hero looked down at Hero’s hand. “Christ Hero! Your hand!”

Hero blinked, dazed. “M’fine.”

“You’re not fine!” Flame Hero hissed. “Look at me you thick skulled idiot, you are not fine! You are going to the hospital.”

Hero shook their head and pushed Flame Hero away with their glass-less palm. “No hospital.”

“Hero, you’re not really in a position to be arguing right now,” Flame Hero hissed. Hero batted Flame Hero’s outstretched hands away.

“Here,” Hero mumbled and grabbed the glass shard.

“Hero! No, don’t pull—“”

“Agh! Fuck!” Hero cried.

“I told you not to touch it!”

Hero pressed the flat of the glass into Flame Hero’s glove. “Did you save all the civilians?”

Flame Hero’s eyes hardened. “Yes.”

“Then nothing to worry about. Leave me be. Help the fire department,” Hero said and started to walk in the opposite direction of the fire department and trucks and paramedics.

“Hero!” Flame Hero looked back at the burning building and then down at the reckless hero’s retreating back. “Hero! Just… don’t do anything stupid!”

Hero waved them away but didn’t answer, limping down the alley until they got down the hill to Flood Street. Fuck… they were tired. When they got out onto the street they got out of Flame Hero’s sightline and pressed their back against the wall, then their head, closing their eyes.

Just for a minute… they just… they just needed a—

Their radio crackled to life. “Supervillain has appeared at the Industrial state by the port!” Hero’s eyes shot open. “We need every available hero to support—”

And then they were running again.

They were exhausted and their back was screaming at them as they pumped their arms to gain momentum. The port was only a short distance from them. Maybe if Hero got there first, they could—

Their vision tunnelled to a slit and the world swayed and Hero blinked and then they were on the ground.

What?… A warm nausea shot from their stomach through their throat like a bullet and Hero barely had time to turn and hurl the contents of their stomach out on the pavement.

Halfway through Hero had a brief respite from heaving, leaning back on their hands and moaning before the warmth returned with a vengeance and Hero was gagging and spewing again. They retched and coughed, saliva black and grey from the fire and when Hero wiped their mouth black soot stained their hand.

Fuck… they thought as they pushed themselves up, one hand grabbing the nearest wall and yanked themselves off their feet. They stumbled again but the wall caught them and Hero sighed as they felt strong hands hold them up.

“Thanks…” Hero mumbled, dizzy with exhaustion, their vision hazy.

“Anytime, Darling.”

Hero froze. They turned their head to see familiar blue eyes staring down at them and Hero lurched forwards. Fingers fisted through their hair and dragged themselves off back into a street out of sight from the main road and down again, turning a corner while Hero hissed and grunted at the pressure on their head.

When they rounded the second corner so they were parallel to the street with a building blocking the view, Villain slammed Hero against the wall and pressed their forearm against Hero’s throat when they tried to push away from the wall.

“Villain,” Hero said, voice scratchy from the vomit. Or the fire. Or being choked by muscle villain. Or all of the above. Their larynx was exhausted. So were they, but they had to keep moving. Keep going. “Come to kick me when I’m down?”

“Not at all, love, I can kick you down when you’re up just as easily,” Villain smirked. But it wasn’t his usual smirk. Hero swallowed hard but their throat burned and they grimaced after. There was something terrifying behind Villain’s beautiful face. Something lethal and dangerous and cold. Something Hero had never seen hidden behind his expression before.

Villain wasn’t fucking around.

This wasn’t a social visit then.

Hero gulped again at the long silence. “Hey… hey, Vil, I kind of have somewhere to be… if we could wrap this up quick then—“”

Villain’s eyes flashed dangerously. His smirk widened. “Oh I know, Hero. You do have somewhere to be. In a hospital, or your own bed at the very least.”

Hero scoffed. “What’re you, my mom?” They pushed against Villain’s arm on their neck, but Villain leaned all his weight forward on it until Hero was pressed flush against the wall, head angled to try and keep breath flowing through their body. “Vi—Villain.”

“Yes, Hero?”

“Can you…” a wheeze cracked the sentence and caught in Hero’s throat as they coughed, strangled by Villain’s arm.

“Can I bring you home and make sure you can’t get out of bed until you’re rested? Yes, Hero. Of course. So good of you to ask.”

“Mmph,” Hero protested, eyes wide as they grabbed Villain’s wrist and elbow and tried to shove him off. Villain, in reply, grabbed Hero by their jacket and threw them further into the alleyway. Hero tumbled, head going over heels until they landed on their back and groaned.

“Or we can go until you pass out, Hero, and then you’ll regret that I put you on bedrest. You’ll find I can be quite persuasive.”

“What’re you doing?” Hero demanded hotly, struggling to sit up. The world swam in their vision and they repressed a groan. “I need to—”

“Fight Supervillain? In this state? Where were you before this? You look like shit.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“What, were you cleaning chimneys? Fall off the roof?” Villain demanded, pointing to the dried blood pooling from Hero’s hairline. “I just found you throwing up like a drunk in the side of the street.”

“Whatever,” Hero grumbled. “You don’t know anything,” Hero said, getting to their unsteady feet and wiping their face with their sleeve. Their gaze hardened, filled with resolve. “I’m going to fight Supervillain. Even if I have to go through you to do it.”

Villain let out a barking laughter that went straight through Hero’s hazy head, piercing their ears uncomfortably. “You’ll go through me? Darling, please, gravity is proving to be too strong an opponent for you in this state.”

“Shut up.”

“No, Hero.” Villain said, a storm flashed across his expression and it scared Hero. “I have to take matters into my own hands now, don’t I?”

Hero gulped but didn’t risk a step forward. They weren’t entirely certain that they would stay standing if they stepped towards Villain, or away from Villain. They were stable standing in place, no risk of falling like this.

“I am a person perfectly capable of making my own decisions thank you very much! I don’t need you to coddle me or—”

Villain was in front of Hero in a second a hand on their throat and then they were slammed against a wall again. Hero’s breath ripped from their lungs as they gasped on the smack of their back against the brickwork.

“I am either bringing you home to get some much needed bedrest, or I am checking you into a psych ward Hero, because I don’t trust you not to hurt yourself in this state.”

Hero let out a scalding laughter. “Hurt myself?!” They demanded, hot tears welling up on their lower lid and blinding them as they started to fall. “You’re hurting me, Villain!”

“Violence is the only thing that gets through to you, Hero, for fuck’s sake!” Villain roared. Hero shrunk back, but Villain followed them, their face an inch or two from Hero’s but his eyes burning with a terrible helplessness. “You can barely fucking stand without assistance and you’re mad at me for stopping you from fighting Supervillain?! Of all people! She’d kill you with a snap of her fingers!”

“GOOD!” Hero screamed back, their voice high, and pitchy and desperate. “At least then my life could MEAN something! At least then I’d have died for a good cause! And be remembered as a Hero! At least then SOMEONE WOULD CARE!”

Maybe it was a trick of Villain’s gaze in the moonlight, but for a second it looked like Villain’s eyes were filled with tears. It was a brief flash, before Villain’s head darted close to Hero and something soft was on Hero’s lips.

Hero flinched.

Then melted.

Oh… villain… was Villain…

Hero kissed them back with a ferocity that they didn’t know they possessed. Something hot and wet hit Hero’s cheek and they didn’t know if it was their tears or Villain’s, but they didn’t care.

Villain was just as fearsome in kissing as he was in battle. He pressed his body against Hero’s, pinning them against the wall, their free hand going to Hero’s cheek and holding their chin up so Hero couldn’t pull away even if they wanted.

And they didn’t want to.

Their hands in turn went to Villain’s hair, his beautiful hair and around his neck and tried to pull him impossibly closer.

And all too soon, Villain pulled away, resting his forehead against Hero’s. Their breath mixing with the cold of the night, and Hero was dizzy for a different reason now. They don’t know how long they stayed like that, their chests rising and falling erratically until they calmed down again.

Then, in the cover of the night air in this back alley, Villain whispered: “you mean something to me,” and Hero stiffened. Fresh tears formed and flooded down their cheeks. “You mean the world to me, Hero. And I would let the world burn just to see you smile… to warm you up when you’re cold. I’d lock you up in a cage if it meant you’d never leave my side again.”

Villain’s hand tightened on Hero’s chin and tilted their head up to meet Villain’s burning gaze.

“I care about you, Hero. I have always cared. And I won’t just sit back and watch you destroy yourself like this, do you understand?”

Villain leaned down and kissed Hero again. A small, sweet peck of the lips. “I won’t let you go. So you’re coming home with me, whether you like it or not.”

Hero sniffled in the air. Something too big and too much to put into words unwound from Hero’s chest and all tension left their body at Villain’s words. A warmth they hadn’t felt in a while pumped from their heart out and around their body and they relented.

It would be so nice to have someone take care of them for once.

“Okay,” they whispered, because it was too great a thing to admit louder. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Villain said and scooped Hero up in their arms like a baby. Hero blushed.

“That’s not necess—”

“It’s okay, darling. You can admit I made your knees weak. That kiss was…”

Hero hit their chest while they cuddled into Villain’s shoulder, using it as a pillow. “You’re such an asshole.”

“I know.”

But they didn’t mean it, and Villain and Hero both knew it. “I know. But the world won’t fall apart without you for a long needed break, Hero.”

Hero swallowed the lump in their throat, they were even too tired to feel the guilt at not fighting anymore, of letting themselves be saved.

Maybe Villain was right…

Maybe… this one time… they could let themselves be saved instead of saving someone else. Hold on a little longer so they would be able to save more people in the future.

They couldn’t be selfish and end their life in a blaze of glory… all the lives they could save if they just took a break, rested for a… a little while. Until they were better again.

Hero’s eyes grew heavy as Villain walked. The rhythmic tapping of Villain’s feet against the pavement a lullaby and for the first time in weeks, Hero slept peacefully.

[foundfamilywhump]

see like the thing with 'carewhumpers' as a concept to me is it just like... i know this is prrrrobably not really how it's meant but something skeeves me out about the idea that kindness or caretaking mixed in with hurting someone can somehow meaningfully complicate or dilute the harm done to the point of making that character no longer a 'whumper' whereas someone doing the same 'bad' things but not ever being gentle or caring for them would just be a straight-out whumper. when like... that's how 90% of irl abuse dynamics work? so i just... don't really get the point, i guess. like to me it implies something about the 'care' provided somehow mitigating or combating the harm done that. i just do not personally appreciate or enjoy.

[honeycollectswhump]

more on grief. the symptoms.

the feeling overwhelming you at random times of the day, without warning. suddenly you are stuck crying and gasping for breath.

your stomach cramps every time you think about them. it makes you want to vomit. nothing really helps and it can kill your appetite.

you are constantly tired, no amount of sleep seems to be enough. you could sleep for a thousand years and maybe you wish you could.

no matter what you are doing and how happy you are, they are always on your mind. you ruminate and ruminate if there was anything you could have done differently. you think about all the things you should have done.

grief alienates and isolates you. it feels like people can’t understand, there is no right words to calm you down.

you will hate yourself for this but sometimes you feel so powerless you wish you would have never been put in this situation. even if that means never knowing that person. you don’t really mean it though you are just desperate.

you can grieve people that are still alive

your grief can project in other things and situations. your mood can drop quickly. you can overreact or be aggressive and abrasive. this alienates you further

people will tell you to distance yourself. you cannot.

feel free to torment your blorbos with this

[icamefromthepinterestscreenshots]

Whumpee who, when rescued, doesn't want anything bad to happen to whumper.

Whumper who's in prison, on death row or being tortured by whumpees team.

Whumpee who keeps begging for people to be nice to whumper, to not torture them, to not kill them, to just leave them alone in a cell.

Whumpee who is so scared that they'll do anything even slightly bad and become like whumper, or become the living weapon whumper had wanted them to be, that they'd rather nothing happen to the person that had tortured them for months.

Because if something bad happened to whumper, it would be whumpees fault. And they couldn't live with that.

[digital-nova]

youre taking requests so can i add something

yknow, the vibe of whumper turned whumpee is something, but what about whumpee turned whumper? and before you say 'oh so is whumpee now exwhumper's whumper?' nope.

caretaker turned whumpee.

oh absolutely this !!

whumpee who just wants to take out all their anger out on someone, who uses the excuse of their trauma to justify their behaviour. perhaps caretaker ends accepting this as part of whumpee's "healing process". what choice do they have? they couldn't possibly try to discipline someone who's already been through so much.

alternatively, a whumpee who takes advantage of caretaker, which i've already written about here.

[pyrepostings]

Conditioned whumpee, whose caretaker is trying to convince xem it's ok to take off the collar now that whumper's gone.

Whumpee decides, in xeir head, that xey could explain to whumper if xey are recaptured that xey downgraded xeir collar because whumper wasn't there to give orders. See, xey still wore a collar, it's just made out of leather instead of gold. See, xey didn't think for a moment xey could be free.

And this way, Caretaker can be satisfied about aer "progress" in the meantime.

[paingoes]

Rubies

Ungrateful

(Content: living weapon whumpee, illness, self loathing, conditioning, past abuse, implied child abuse, caretaker new master?)

He was starting to even out. Delta no longer felt the need to sleep all day, nor did he feel like he might lapse back into sickness. Apollo and Kitty gave him the space he needed, but he still saw them often enough. Their conversations were very limited. Delta still had trouble forcing himself to speak, so scared of triggering the wrong reaction. But so far they had been nothing but patient. This too felt strange and new.

When all their exchanges had been through a screen, it had been much easier to manage. They existed to him mostly in concept alone. Even when they’d sent videos, they still felt fictitious. He had understood them more as characters from a book than he did as real people. 

That same attitude was not sustainable in a three dimensional space. Those two were flesh and blood. Even with the new collar, Delta’s idle mode powers were higher than they had been in years. As ever, it was concerned with forms. It felt out the shape of the space around him with small pulses throughout the day. He could feel their hearts beating in their chest, the minutiae of their movements. 

Real people presented complications that fictional ones did not. A very, very old voice in his head already dictated how he was meant to feel about them.

They risked everything for you and you didn’t even say thank you. All you’ve done is hide out in your room and ignore them when they speak to you. You are ungrateful. You are disrespectful. It is an unacceptable way to act around your superiors. You should be on your knees. You should be begging for forgiveness for what you’ve done.

He did not know whose voice it was, but it sounded ancient. It sounded like it had come all the way from genesis. He wondered whether it had been there all along. Maybe he just hadn’t been able to make it out clearly before. Right now, without work to distract him, it had grown impossibly loud.

Ungrateful, venomous thing. Did you forget what you are? Did you forget who you belong to? Don’t you dare try to speak. You are an object. I don’t ever want to see you acting like that again. You are not a person. Get down. You do not exist for any reason but to serve your superiors’ needs. You will speak when you are spoken to and nothing more. You will obey their orders and do nothing else. If you forget your place, I will happily remind you of it.

Delta pulled the pillow over his head. The barrage was more or less continuous. Something about being in a new environment must have triggered it. He had already internalized most of what the voice said a long time ago. He knew that. But the constant reminders of his own ingratitude still made him feel awful. He knew it wasn’t right for him to be hiding out like this. He was scared and he was exhausted, but it wasn’t an excuse. He’d been trained better than that. He exhaled, rising up from the bed. He’d put it off long enough.

He found Apollo first. He’d been standing in the side room right by the kitchen. It had been his mother’s studio at one point, now it was just a space with good lighting and a usable surface. He’d been trying to clean it out when Delta walked in.

“Oh! Hi!” Apollo was pleasantly surprised to see him emerge from his room. The soft fabric of his poncho swayed around him when he moved. Little glimpses of golden jewelry were just visible in between the curls of his red hair. He gazed warmly at Delta, his eyes betraying nothing.

This was so fucking difficult. The easygoing way they acted around him only made him feel worse about his own indiscretions. It would have been better if they were angry; he’d have known what to do with that. The procedure was mostly the same, though.

Delta knelt down on the floor in front of him, ignoring the protest from his ribs. He bowed his head, stealing only a small glance upwards. Apollo’s expression was marked with concern. That was fine. It didn’t deter him.

“Thank you.” Delta’s voice was soft, but it was still the clearest Apollo had ever heard him speak aloud. “I didn’t say it yet. I’m sorry. Thank you.”

Less was more. He wasn’t going to start rambling, even if he thought he was capable of it. He’d only say more if Apollo wanted him to, if he gave him permission to. Otherwise, he hoped his body language would speak for itself. 

Apollo looked really, really upset. He crossed the distance between them. Delta cringed back at the rapid movement, sure he was about to be hurt. But Apollo knelt down, pretty abruptly interrupting what Delta had been trying to convey. He reflexively flinched as Apollo took his shoulders, shaking him gently, “It’s okay. Of course. You don’t have to do that. I’m glad you’re okay, alright? But you don’t have to. It’s not like that.”

Delta stared back at him unblinkingly. Apollo seemed to gather himself, releasing his grip. “Sorry. Shouldn’t have touched you. You can stand up though. Don’t mention it.”

He offered a hand for Delta to rise. Though confused and self-conscious, he accepted. 

===========

He tried again with Kitty. She didn’t return to the house until later in the night. Delta waited until Apollo had gone to bed, not wanting to upset him any further. Kitty was collapsed against the couch as if she’d been running around all day. Her ears perked up as Delta approached.

“Hey! You’re awake!” She smiled cheerfully, kind of goofily. 

Delta wrung his hands, more nervous on this attempt than he had been for the previous. He knelt. The carpet of the living room was much softer than the hardwood of the study. Kitty tilted her head in confusion.

“Thank you for saving me.” His voice sank a little as the shame seeped into his words, “I’ve been acting ungrateful. I’m so sorry. Thank you.”

“Aw. It’s no problem, bud.” Kitty frowned a little as she leaned forward. “Do you wanna sit on the couch?”

Delta hesitated. It wasn’t that he hadn’t been allowed furniture in general; he’d had his own room. It was specifically that he was not allowed on furniture with other people. It gave the wrong idea; he was never supposed to be at their level.

“No, miss,” he responded. It was too much for one night.

“Okay.” Kitty shrugged. “Floor time, then.”

She slid down onto the carpet with him. He blinked in surprise. Very casually, she switched on the screen on the far wall, untangling her controller from beneath it.

“You wanna play?” She asked.

“Um. No, miss.” He shook his head.

“K.” She said. 

He watched as the screen came to life. Kitty’s tail swished from side to side as she focused in. It was a hypnotic movement. Hesitant and careful, in anticipation of being reprimanded for it, Delta unfolded himself into a more comfortable position. Kitty did not object.

He pulled his knees up to his chest. After a few minutes had passed, he’d gotten absorbed in the bright colors and motion of the game, almost forgetting where he was. He was kind of susceptible to things like that. He blinked back to reality, stealing a sidelong glance at Kitty. She was just as engrossed, not half as tense.

“Do you want me to stay here?” He asked. Like she might’ve forgotten he was there, like it wouldn’t go well once she noticed. 

“Do you want to?” Her voice was a bit hopeful, in ways he did not pick up on and was not yet capable of understanding.

He nodded mutely as he leaned back against the couch. He watched her play in silence, slowly adjusting to the presence of another body beside him. 

…….

tags:

@catnykit @snakebites-and-ink @vivulapom @scoundrelwithboba @whatwhump

@pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @fuckass1000 @fuckcapitalismasshole @defire

@micechomper

[acer-whumpstuff]

Robot whumpee needs to evacuate an area

But they’re not finished charging yet

[sir-fenris]

This is a short scene inspired by this post of @seth-whumps 's whump ask game.

(Using placeholder names for this one)

(Colored sentences are part of the prompt)

Grumpish rescue

Content: non-human whumpee, reluctant caretaker, lady caretaker, bad caretaker, implied physical abuse, referenced neglect, blood, rescue from whumper, threats of violence, a lot of swearing from our caretaker.

(Drabbles' masterlist)

-

Sarah has a terrible habit of taking on her friends' problems. And her friends have a terrible tendency to attract problems.

And as if it weren't enough that the problems chase after them, they also run to meet the problems.

Hence, now she's behind a rock, hiding a dog, or wolf, hybrid from a very ominous woodcutter. Simply because her stupid friend saw the hybrid being mistreated and left outside in a storm and decided that it was of his fucking business. Which made it her fucking business, too.

"I'm going to find you, so you might as well come out... before I get truly angry." The woodcutter's voice is still a bit far away, thank the gods, but they need to leave quickly. Sarah was going to leave this forest with the damm hybrid, one way or another.

When she felt the hybrid tensing upon hearing the man's words, and leaning forward with his mouth open, Sarah slapped a hand over his mouth and pushed him against the rock. "Don't. Say. A word," she hissed.

If the damn brat made this difficult, perhaps it was better to just abandon him here and tell her friend that she couldn't escape the woodcutter.

... Who is she kidding? No fucking way. She never backs down after stepping up for something. Her friend wanted the stupid wolf hybrid? Then he would have his charity pet.

"Don't be fucking stupid, you really believe him? He's gonna cut you open once he finds you." Sarah didn't care about the hybrid's panicked eyes and pale face. As long as he was alive and able to run, he was fine.

...She would deal with the bleeding leg later. He could run, she saw it.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going, stupid mutt?!" Oh, shit. That was closer than before, and much angrier. They needed to move, now.

"You better cooperate or I will be the one cutting you open, yeah?" Sarah whispers to the frightened boy and drags him along to the side of the rock, opposite from where the woodcutter's voice came from.

The man only had an axe, maybe if they made a run for it, they could make it to the car. But if the man was fast, he could catch up before Sarah could get them away...

Better to set a distance.

With a tighter grip than necessary on the boy's upper arm, she carefully led them behind a thick bush. The man's red shirt was easy to find, and it was closer than Sarah would have liked.

She drags the hybrid down the small mound behind them and feels her heart stop when the stupid boy stumbles forward. Sarah hauled him up, acting on pure instinct, but with more force than necessary, if his little yelp was any indication.

Her heart stops for the second time once she hears movement too close to their back.

This stupid fucking boy-

Sarah grabs him as tightly as she can, making sure he doesn't slip out of her grip, and hauls him forward with her. His whimpers of pain and fear are completely ignored as she hurries throught the trees and bushes, pulling him up immediately every time he stumbles or hits something.

She could deal with any injury of his later, right now they needed to get to the fucking car.

"Who the fuck are you?!" Comes the raging yell behind them. Farther than she expected, he wasn't as fast as them.

Sarah ignores both him and the hybrid's cries, sprinting to the open area where she parked the car.

"Get in, now!" She yells at the boy once they're close enough to the car, shoving him toward the back seats before opening the driver's door.

Thank the gods, she hears the door behind her opening and closing as hurried as hers while she starts the car. The hybrid knows where his chances are better.

The man is way too close to the car, but before the axe can hit the hood, she drops her foot on the clutch pedal and pulls the gear lever into reverse.

There was a gasp of surprise and a thud behind her seat as the car lurched backward, but she ignored it to turn the wheel and drive the car as far away from the forest path as possible.

It's only when they're too far away for the man to reach that she sighs and looks at the hybrid from the rearview mirror. He looks terrible. Bags under his tearful eyes, wearing filthy and torn clothing, scars and superficial injuries all around his body, blood running down his leg-

Fuck, she's gonna make her friend clean the damn blood out of her car later.

"Put pressure on your leg and sit down on the floor. If you make me get stopped by the police, I swear to the gods..." She doesn't finish the threat, mostly because it isn't even a real threat, but the boy hurries to obey with a terrified whine.

Sarah reaches to turn on the radio, drowning out his soft whimpers. She can deal with his injuries when they're safe at her friend's house, and her fucking friend can deal with the hybrid's distress and the dirtied seat.

She really has to stop taking on her friends' problems, it's one headache after another.

-

Writing daily is tough when my attention and ability to write seem to come and go in waves whenever they please. But I'm trying, so here we go, another day!

This one was really fun to do, despite the difficulty in starting the writing! :D

-

[meadowsofmay]

it's really interesting how vax is the caretaker in his relationship with the sister — he, objectively, one of the most beaten up characters both by the fault of his own recklessness and the unfortunate roll of the dice. and yet, the moment he gets up and regains senses he goes to check on vex, braids her hair and watches her, following her very step.

all the while spending nights at her door and for a long time not allowing himself a comfort of keyleth's presence after the most traumatic events. i am on the episode 61 and i genuinely want to make everybody see how much he struggles all the while understanding why he doesn't do so himself being so closed off and having "and i walk away" as his default way out of the situations when emotional vulnerability is required.

[whumpluv]

whumpee who constantly apologizes, who makes self-deprecating digs at themself and plays them off as a joke, who constantly asks if they're being annoying or bothering people ... and who doesn't have a whumper they can blame this on.

it's easier to explain away being tortured or abused. but what if whumpee's trauma comes from years of people subtly signaling to them that they were annoying, a burden, not worth listening to? whumpee who talked about their passions with loved ones and got nothing but disinterested "uh-huhs" and glazed over eyes. whumpees whose friends would immediately change the topic as soon as whumpee managed to get a word in. whumpee who spent years being excluded and mistreated by everyone around them in a way that's hard to explain because they technically weren't actually saying anything mean to them.

[echo-goes-mmm]

Moonflower #16

Masterpost

Previous

Next

Warnings: heavy drinking

“You did what?”

Iris stared at Kit. When Kit offered to talk to David, she expected… well she wasn’t sure what she expected. Not this.

“He didn’t want help, so I promised I would if he changed his mind,” he repeated.

“I heard you,” she pinched the bridge of her nose. “But did you have to make a promise promise? You can’t refuse that.”

“I know,” said Kit, an edge to his voice. 

“I get that you want to help, but I’m concerned. You can’t just promise things all the time. You’ll be compelled.”

“I know,” he bit out.

Iris stood from her chair, and Kit shrank back.

“I’m sorry. Please,” he whimpered.

She paused.

“It won’t interfere with our deal,” he begged, “Please.”

What was he afraid of?

“I just wished you’d talk to me first. That’s all.”

“Yes, Mistress. I won’t do it again.”

___________________

Iris sat back down, and Kit tried to steady his breathing. He gulped down air, and tried to ground himself with his palms on the floor.

Iris was still watching him from the corner of her eye, and he curled inwards.

“Why do you sit on the floor?” she asked, picking up another form. “It’s not like there’s an absence of chairs.”

Kit looked away. He didn’t want to say ‘because I got used to it’ or ‘because I’m a smaller target’ or ‘because I’m scared of you’ but these were all true things, and he could not lie.

“Kit?” He half expected her to compel him with his name with how angry she was with him before.

He worked the words in his mouth before answering. “It’s... easier.”

He could feel Iris’s eyes on him.

“Okay.”

She turned back to her paperwork, and Kit felt the weight of fear ease up on his shoulders.

They fell into an uneasy silence, the only sound the scratch of pen on paper and the clinking of the glass inkwell.

She moved on from forms to the stack of mail on her desk; tearing open envelopes and pulling out letters.

Iris frowned, scanning the first bundle of paper before tossing it aside. The next one got the same treatment, and the next after that.

“Toss these in the fireplace, would you?”

Kit nodded, getting to his feet. He gathered the papers and put them on the arranged wood in the unlit hearth.

“What were they?” he dared to ask.

“Proposals. Courtship offers.”

“Oh.”

“Most likely my aunt’s work,” she said, picking up an unopened letter and tossing it aside.

“Can’t you tell her to stop?”

“She wouldn’t.”

Kit hummed in sympathy. 

A knock sounded on the office door, and Kit rose to open it.

The door swung open before he could, and unfortunately it was Aunt Nicole.

“Speak of the devil,” muttered Iris under her breath.

Nicole walked into the room, past Kit. “Would you mind, dear?” she asked over her shoulder, smiling.

“Hm?”

“She wants you to step out for a minute, Kit.”

“Oh. Of course.”

He left, gently closing the door behind him.

Kit leaned against the wall, next to Brennan. The knight raised a brow, but said nothing.

___________________

“You shouldn’t be spending time alone with that disgusting creature,” said Nicole with a slight scowl.

“There’s no need to be crass, Aunt Nicole. Kit bathes every morning.” Iris didn’t bother looking up from her paperwork.

“You know what I mean. I hear he eats dirt.”

“Rumors,” dismissed Iris. “You know how they spread.”

“Exactly. Spending time alone with a man you aren’t courting is not helping your case.”

Iris put down her pen. “My case? You may want to rephrase that.”

Nicole looked taken aback.

“That’s no way to talk to your aunt.”

“And that’s no way to talk to your queen.”

Iris stood, her chair scraping against the wooden floor. She pulled more courtship letters from the pile on her desk.

“This-” she said, waving the papers, “needs to stop.”

Nicole wrung her hands. “I’m only trying to look out for you. If your mother-”

“Don’t you dare,” hissed Iris. “You aren’t my mother, and you don’t get to offer my hand to every man in sight.”

She tossed the remaining letters in the fireplace. 

“I know what you really want, Nicky. And you aren’t going to get it.”

Nicole stood stunned at her hard work getting tossed like the trash it was.

“I’m not getting married. Not now, not ever. Understood?”

“Yes, your majesty,” she said, terse. She turned on her heel, and stalked out.

___________________

Kit’s ear twitched as he listened in on Nicole and Iris. 

She was so angry with Nicole, and what did her aunt really want if not just a marriage?

“Are you really able to hear what they’re saying?” asked Brennan.

“Yes,” he admitted. “Mistress is very upset.”

Nicole slammed the door open and swiftly strode away.

They watched her round the corner.

“You don’t say,” said Brennan dryly. Kit snorted.

“Kit, come here,” called Iris.

He waved to a farewell Brennan as he obeyed.

“Are you alright?” he asked, cautiously making his way inside.

“I will be,” she said, staring down into the unlit fireplace. It was stuffed with letters. “Burn these. And fetch me some wine. A bottle, not a glass.”

“Yes, mistress.”

With an easy flick of his wrist, the letters caught a flame and began to burn. Iris stood watching them, a muted expression on her face, and Kit left to get the wine.

___________________

The wine cellar was just off of the kitchen, and Kit scanned the racks of bottles.

He grabbed two at random, and hoped Iris would like one of them.

She was still standing at the fireplace, the fire casting her in orange light like an autumn oak in sunshine.

Kit set one bottle on her desk and opened the other. He joined her by the fire and passed it over.

She drank straight from the bottle, a long swig that made him uncomfortable.

He was no stranger to drinking, but she was upset, and surely getting drunk in her office would not reflect well on her. Iris cared a lot about appearances, and having them cast aside so easily concerned him.

“Would you rather drink in your room?” he asked gently, and she shrugged.

“What’s the point? The kitchen staff saw you take the bottles anyway.” She took another drink.

“You’re wearing heels,” he tried again, “and this hall is carpeted.”

She took off her shoes and tossed them behind her. “There. Fixed.”

Kit said nothing.

Iris sighed. “We’ll go when the letters are ash, alright? You win.”

___________________

Kit put her heels and dress away as Iris sulked on the couch. 

She was starting on her second bottle, and drunk.

He pulled a nightgown from her dresser.

“Here you are,” he offered, and she tugged it on, pulling her bra off and out from underneath and tossing it away.

“Thanks. You can go.”

Kit didn’t leave, sitting on the floor next to the couch. She needed company, and not just because she was drinking so much.

“Today was awful,” she said aloud. “I think I really fucked up.”

He caught on to her train of thought. “Nicole deserved it.”

“No, I mean,” she sighed. “I told her I wasn’t ever getting married.”

“Good.”

“No! It’s not good! Why would I say that? Especially to her!” 

Iris took another long drink.

“You’re going to have a hangover,” he warned. 

“Couldn’t you just magic it away?” she waved, gesturing with the bottle.

Kit hummed. “I suppose.”

Silence fell as Iris put her feet up on the coffee table.

“I don’t want to get married,” she admitted.

“Then don’t.”

“If only things were that simple.”

“They could be,” he said. “You’re the queen.”

“That’s the problem. I need to marry well, and have lots of children, but not too many,  because I’m the queen. For the good of the country.”

“What about for the good of you?”

Iris went quiet. “I don’t know what that looks like.”

taglist: @paintedpigeon1 @cupcakes-and-pain @loserwithsyle @cepheusgalaxy @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @virtualbreadtale @bitchaknso @starfields08000

[icamefromthepinterestscreenshots]

Whumpee who when rescued gets handcuffed for their own safety. Sure, the people around them are simply trying to protect them, but they don’t know that.

[paingoes]

Rubies

Stars

okay back to early recovery period. conceptually this is like the weirdest thing ive ever written for this series youre just gonna have to roll with it.

(Content: past abuse, past captivity, conditioning, blood, bad caretaking, consent issues?, wound care)

It was the dead of night. Delta was not trying to be sneaky. It was just such a habit. He was starting to wonder how he ever functioned at all aboard the Thorn — all his day was spent working, all his night was spent online or drifting around the ship in conspiracy. When did he even sleep? He guessed he’d fainted regularly enough to count it as rest. He guessed he was making up for it now. The ship’s artificial day cycles had ruined his circadian rhythm in a major way. He figured he’d adjust again soon. But right now, he was wide awake. 

He slipped out of the bedroom. He still hated how loud the doorknob was, but it wasn’t such a big deal if he knew nobody was on the other side of it. And there wasn’t. Apollo slept upstairs in his parents’ bedroom. Kitty slept up there too, whenever she stayed the night. The downstairs was empty. He paced it aimlessly, entirely silently. There was so much less space than there had been on the Thorn. He could’ve gotten lost on that ship for hours if he let himself. He missed the familiarity of it, if nothing else.

The front door to the house opened. He jumped back in shock, falling back against the fridge. No one else had come in for as long as he had been there. Nobody had said anything about the possibility. The danger stood there eminently in the opening.

The figure in the doorway was tall and shadowy, wrapped up in a long cloak. Little threads of silver hair peeked out from beneath the hood. Bright, bright silver eyes shone out from its shade. 

Delta sparked involuntarily. He didn’t have the suppress the natural instinct to defend himself anymore — and the new collar was so allowing. It made it so that the powers came out often, often too soon. He still shrank back against the fridge. He’d so rarely had to fight anyone head on; he didn’t want to.

The figure closed the door politely behind them, then slowly approached Delta, moving in a wide arc around him. The sparks became more frequent. They titled their head, then raised their hands in the simple “?” shape.

“Oh,” Delta blushed, the recognition slamming into him, “I’m sorry.”

Lun, their name was. Apollo’s brother. Delta remembered so little about the night of the Centurion, but the memories of the bat had remained. Memories of the axe. Lun, who everyone said did all the real work. Delta hadn’t seen them since leaving the Galatea base. But he’d been living in their house.

“I’m…sorry…” Delta repeated, ashamed of his own reaction. It was awful. 

Maybe they’d been right to restrict his powers the way they did. He remembered how brutally Simon had beaten him when he misfired, the way his teachers had whipped him raw the first time he’d operated without permission. Maybe they had a point? He was so quick to jump to it when there wasn’t anyone restraining him. They all drained out of him now, dampened as his mood dropped. He sank to his knees on the floor.

Lun didn’t move. Delta stole a quick glance at their face, which revealed nothing at all, still half hidden. He hesitated before speaking again, but ultimately forced himself. He bowed his head. It was easier not to look.

“Um,” he winced at how unsteady his voice had become, “Thank you. For the rescue. I didn’t get to say it yet, but I’m…very grateful. To you especially.”

Lun had been the first one Delta had seen — and the only one to actually get inside of the airship. They’d taken on all the risk. They’d physically broken the chain that was binding him to the throne. That night, Lun had been up in those rafters for a long time. Delta wondered faintly what else they might have seen while there.

When he looked up again, Lun was gone. There was no sign they had even been there, no clear direction in which they had left.

Delta remained kneeling on the floor. A very deep instinct told him not to rise without permission. He wondered if Lun had kept him there on purpose. He didn’t know. Apollo and Kitty had been lenient with him, but he wasn’t so presumptuous as to expect that from any of the others. He was beholden to them just as much. He’d do as they asked. 

It would be easier if they did ask, though. What had happened just now was too ambiguous. He rose cautiously and retreated back to his room. If there was a misunderstanding, if he wasn’t allowed to, he would apologize profusely, easily. He would not need to force himself. He meant it. But nothing else happened that night.

=========

“Lun said they saw you last night?” Apollo asked casually as he made breakfast.

Delta lingered nervously in the doorway, half-hidden by the wall. He wasn’t domesticated, not comfortable enough to eat in front of people. He usually retreated to his room to do it. Apollo glanced up at him in the ensuing silence — he knew he was checking to see if he was still there.

Delta returned a small nod. He’d almost forgotten about it, or chalked it up to some strange dream. Lun still hadn’t reappeared. Delta glanced briefly to the space where they had stood.

“They’re asleep in the attic. Cold-blooded, y’know. They like the heat.” Apollo smiled faintly. There was such clear affection in his voice when he spoke about his younger brother. 

Delta cringed, remembering how close he had gotten to hurting them. He wondered if Lun had said anything about that. It seemed like not. 

“I hope they didn’t scare you. I would’ve told you if I’d known they were coming. That must have been very surprising if you weren’t expecting it.” Apollo offered the fruit bowl to him. Delta emerged from the wall enough to take it, then took a few steps back into the hiding place.

“Thank you,” Delta whispered, “Can I…”

“Yeah, you can go.” Apollo waved his hand. Delta slipped out of sight.

=========

He felt the same sleeplessness the same night.   There were stars against the back of his eyes. He didn’t know how it was possible to feel homesickness; he couldn’t have possibly imagined. Not that he’d ever seriously entertained the possibility of escape until days before it actually happened. He had expected to be killed upon release; he still did not know if that was off the table, whether Levon was just keeping him on ice. The thought kept him up. 

He sat up slowly. There was faint light coming from beneath the door; the soft kitchen lights were always on. He liked that about the new house. It reminded him there was a world outside of his room. He rose up from the bed, crossing the threshold silently. He cracked the door open. 

There was movement behind it. He froze, immediately. He hadn’t expected anyone else to be up. He peered faintly through the gap.

Kitty was sitting cross-legged on the couch, hair half covering her face. A shadow hovered beside her, one hand on her chest, the other resting on the nape of her neck. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted. A faint stream of blood trickled down onto her clavicle. 

Delta jumped as her gaze suddenly fell upon him. He quickly shut the door, too loudly. Fuck. Fuck. He wasn’t supposed to leave his room. He wasn’t supposed to see. He backed up into the bed, nearly tripping on it.

“Delta?” Kitty called faintly from behind the door. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were up. You can come out. It’s okay.”

He clicked his nails anxiously together, still too scared to move. 

“Babe?” She called again. 

He cracked the door open again. She was sitting upright on the couch. Her eyes were soft with concern. She beckoned him. Behind her, Lun stared. Their mouth was stained red. 

Delta cautiously emerged, mostly against his wishes. He wasn’t yet at a point where he’d be comfortable ignoring orders, especially not with her. He stood in the empty space between his bedroom and the living room. The trained tension was visible in his body. Forced attention. He lowered his eyes respectfully.

“You met Lun, right?” Kitty asked. “They’re friendly. They were just feeding. We weren’t…doing anything.”

He glanced up to see Lun waving shyly from behind her. They wiped at their mouth self-consciously. Kitty dabbed a towel at her neck, removing most of the blood. 

“Do you wanna sit?” She offered, endlessly patient. Again, he found it very hard to deny her. He sat down on the floor besides the coffee table. Kitty pulled the towel from her neck, attempting casualness.

“Can’t sleep?” She asked, “I’ve been meaning to ask, are you a nocturnal species? We both are, naturally. But we’re usually on Galatea’s schedule now.” 

She tilted her head to Lun when she said it. Delta bit his lip. He didn’t even know what species he was — even if he did, it didn’t matter. He wasn’t working on any set planetary schedule. He was on spaceship time.

“…I was in deep space, miss,” he told her as much. 

“Oh! Spaceship time!” She looked kind of excited at the prospect, then immediately concerned. “Wait, how long?”

“…Year and a half?” Delta estimated. He hadn’t been keeping a record when it started and there was a lot of fogginess in between. Maybe two years. He wasn’t sure.

“Um. Doesn’t that make your head kinda…” She tapped her own skull. “Fucky?”

Yes. Space madness was a well documented phenomenon. He assumed he’d been spared the worst of it though, already uniquely adapted to living in isolation and under extreme pressure. Truthfully, part of him missed the stars. It was strange to be earthbound again. 

He nodded, though. His head was fucky, undoubtably. Kitty was frowning at him.

“You haven’t left the house at all since you got here,” she noticed. “You wanna come out in the garden?”

She opened up the back door to the house, leading him out past the porch and onto the grass. It was a cool night. She slid her jacket off, wrapping it around his shoulders. He noticed there was still a bit of blood on the hood. 

Lun drifted in front of them among the flowers. Their silver hair almost glowed in the dark. It was their garden, apparently. Even thought they’d been away, the plants still bloomed with the seasons. 

Delta knelt down on the grass. Kitty plopped down beside him, laying flat on her back. The stars were bright — not as bright as they had been up close, but bright none the less. He identified the constellations, finally able to pinpoint with some certainty where they were in the galaxy. Mostly, he was just glad to see them again. The night wind coursed gently through his hair and against his skin.

He jumped as Lun appeared at his side. They’d been in his blind spot. Lun was shorter than Apollo, which was still tall. Delta was still kneeling. It put him into a bad headspace.

Lun pulled their arm out from within their cloak, revealing a handful of pale white flowers. They extended it out to Delta. He blinked in confusion. They extended it out a little more.

“Oh.” Delta blushed, caught off-guard by the abrupt sweetness. “…Thank you.”

Lun nodded, drifting back among the foliage. Kitty was grinning widely. Delta traced the flower petals with his finger, deep in thought. 

=======

Kitty had disappeared for the day, going off to visit Iza before the pilot was sent away. Apollo had to run out to restock on supplies. It was the first time Delta had been left alone in the house. He idled in the living room. It was very hard to resist the impulse to clean without either of them calling him away from it. He did it almost mindlessly; it had become such a habit. He didn’t want to feel useless.

The air shifted a little. Delta jumped as Lun appeared at the base of the stairs. All dressed in black, they stood out uncannily against the warm colors of the room. He’d never seen them out during the day. All the curtains were drawn.

Delta backed up a bit, still nervous. Lun stared curiously with their head cocked to the side. They looked around, visibly surprised at how empty the space was. Their gaze turned back onto Delta. They raised their hand to the side of their head and folded the fingers down. Nyah. 

“Um. She went out.“ It was immensely strange for Delta to be the one speaking most in any exchange. Lun was exceptionally quiet. If Delta hadn’t heard them speak briefly on the airship, he would have assumed they were fully mute.

They looked disappointed. The hand slid down to their neck, clutching it. It seemed like such a protective gesture, like they were embarrassed by the need. Delta’s brow furrowed.

“…Do you…need to feed…?” So strange. The voice in his head reprimanded him, demanding he not speak unless spoken to, but he found that demand less appropriate now. Lun nodded shyly.

He still wanted to be helpful. He knew that he owed Lun everything. And he was more than a little intrigued by the way Kitty had looked so dazed upon the couch when he’d first glimpsed them. He was curious. 

“…I can do it,” Delta offered. Lun raised an eyebrow, but he thought he could read hopefulness into their expression.

Taking initiative he didn’t know he had, Delta knelt down in front of the couch. Lun followed silently and cautiously. There wasn’t any eagerness in their body language — all hesitation. It was strange to see it on someone else. Delta tilted his head to the side, brushing his long hair away from his neck. He looked at Lun through the side of his eyes. They sat down on the couch.

Delta still flinched when Lun’s hand came by the side of his head, trying to hold him still. The other pressed down against his shoulder. The collar was thin enough that most of his neck remained bare. Lun tapped a nail nervously against Delta’s cheek, seemingly involuntarily. They opened their mouth.

Delta only felt a second of regret as the fangs revealed themself. The anticipation was always the worst of it. As they sank in, pain replaced the fear. He could handle pain. He sat still and silent, well accustomed to taking it without complaint. 

Blood usually left his body through his mouth, his nose, sometimes his eyes if it was a bad day. The sudden rapture from his neck was a new experience. It was colder, somehow. He felt dizzy.

The front door opened up. Lun pulled back immediately, painfully. More blood came out. Delta reeled. Caught. Totally caught. He felt ashamed before he even registered the reaction. He knew, intuitively, that he had done something wrong. He’d known it when he offered.

“What - I just - I leave for five minutes and you-?“ Apollo sputtered. He dropped the bags onto the floor, moving rapidly to the center of the room. “What are you doing?”

Delta flinched, lowering his head. It was the first time he had ever heard Apollo angry. Blood dripped from his neck snd onto the carpet as he moved into a bow. Sorry. Sorry. The words didn’t make it past his lips.

Apollo seemed to not register it. All his attention had turned to Lun. When he spoke again, it was quieter, but holding the same amount of heat. 

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” He said. 

Delta stayed frozen in place as Lun rose up off the couch, following their brother into the other room. 

=========

“Why. Why would you ever-“ Apollo couldn’t even finish the sentence. “He doesn’t know how to say no to people. You can’t ask him for something like that.”

Lun hovered at Apollo’s side. Their eyes were wide, but the pupils were dilated all the way in the daylight.

“I didn’t ask.” Their voice was haunting singsong. “He offered.”

“He offered?” Apollo looked at them in disbelief. They nodded.

“That doesn’t mean you do it. He said I could hurt him too. That doesn’t mean I did it. Lun-“ He took a deep breath. “He thinks he deserves it. You understand that, right? You’ve seen the way he acts. He can’t make that kind of informed decision.”

“He offered,” Lun insisted.

“He’s injured. He doesn’t even have the blood to spare. You know I’m right.” Apollo shot back. Lun wrapped their cloak tighter around themself.

“You don’t need to yell.” They said softly. Apollo paused for a second, regaining his cool. He shook his head.

“Sorry. Shit. He’s probably-“ Apollo hurried back into the living room.

=========

“Hey.” Apollo bent down besides Delta, who hadn’t moved at all since they departed. He cupped his face in his hands gently. “Hey. I’m not mad at you, okay? I’m sorry for yelling. You’re okay. I wasn’t mad at you. You’re not in trouble.”

Delta leaned into the touch, visibly miserable. Apollo felt a sharp pang of guilt. He’d obviously scared him pretty bad. 

“I’ll patch you up, okay?” Apollo offered, eyeing the wound on his neck. Lun’s marks were typically very clean, but they could still get infected. Besides, blood was still leaking out of the punctures. He helped Delta to stand and led him into the kitchen, sitting him up on one of the stools. He pulled a pair of surgical gloves from his pocket — he always carried them, just in case.

Delta tilted his head to the side again, letting Apollo clean the site of the wound. Some of it had already gotten onto his shirt — he made a note to get him new clothes soon, anyway. He was still borrowing all of theirs. 

“Hold it here,” Apollo placed the towel against his neck. 

“Yes, sir.” Delta applied pressure where he’d been asked. Apollo winced.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know. Lun isn’t starving. They would’ve been fine. Move the towel, please.” He rubbed the disinfectant over the wound. It was cold. Delta shivered.

“I wanted to,” He said weakly.

“You’re still healing, Delta.” He knew he was lecturing, but he couldn’t help it. “You don’t need any more pain right now. Don’t volunteer for it. Not while you’re like this.”

“I’m sorry,” Delta repeated. 

Apollo applied the bandage over the bite mark, smoothing it out carefully against the skin. Delta righted his head, letting his hair cover it back up. Apollo moved to the bags he’d left by the door. He retrieved a pack of juice boxes from inside; he’d gotten them specifically because Lun had come by. He passed one to Delta, hoping to reduce some of the dizziness. 

But he was surprised by how lucid Delta appeared. He’d calmed down significantly after Apollo had said he wasn’t mad. He didn’t seem to be under any particular duress. 

Lun returned from the other room, skulking a little. They pulled up a stool on the opposite end, taking one of the juice boxes for themself. Delta studied the granite of the counter quietly.  Not speaking, but not afraid either. 

…………

tags:

@catnykit @snakebites-and-ink @vivulapom @scoundrelwithboba @whatwhump

@pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @fuckass1000 @fuckcapitalismasshole @defire

@micechomper @writereleaserepeat @aloafofbreadwithanxiety

[rainbowsandwhumperflies]

whumptober day one :]

(this is my first time participating in this so lmk if I tag or label things wrong lmao)

No. 1: “But now this room is spinning while I’m trying just to fill in all the gaps.” Safety Net | Swooning | “How many fingers am I holding up?”

cws: none, I don't think!

“Let’s sit you down, okay?” Whumpee blinks hard, trying to reorient themself as they get pushed into a sitting position.

“This is stupid,” they mutter. “I’m fine. Really. You’re being dramatic.”

“Mm. I actually don’t think you’re being dramatic enough. How many fingers am I holding up?”

Whumpee drags their eyes up, trying to focus on the hand that was in front of their face. Six, they think, but there aren't that many fingers on Caretaker’s hand, so they let their head drop again. “I don’t know. Leave me alone.”