#ex-whumper

[paingoes]

Crash Out

Itch

(Content: ex-whumper, whumper turned whumpee, physical violence, addiction, past abuse, fainting, minor insects/insect bites, minor ableist language, homophobia mention)

The old irritation was back and biting. Throwing his phone into the creek had helped a little bit. Being away from the throne had helped a little bit. The drugs only ever made it worse and the drugs were all he had. He twitched endlessly. He hadn’t realize how badly he needed it until the urge was right on top of him.

He couldn’t break anything around Lorelai. The only time he’d tried that, she’d starting packing her bags, and they’d had to pay the hotel staff off for the damages. It was the closest she’d come to leaving him, right then and there. Nonstarter. 

She noticed it this time, but she mistook it for withdrawal. He was seldom down long enough for the lapse to start really hurting, but she could still see the signs when they came. She ran her fingers over his temple in an attempt to be soothing. It only made the burning worse. He bit into his own hand just to feel the pressure.

Another club. Better maintained on the inside than the others had been. It was a pity they had set it out in the middle of the swamp like that. The whole city was built on top of the wetland. The air burned with heat even at the darkest time of night. Lorelai had bought a pointy pair of pink sunglasses and a snapback that said LIFE’S A BEACH. She lost both of them an hour after they had entered the club and soon after he lost sight of her all together.

Thank god.

He knew so intuitively what he had to do. His knocked his shoulder straight into the boy’s side as he passed. The drink spilled and his hands didn’t leave his pockets. The club was crowded and his movement was subtle enough for the whole thing to look accidental, if you weren’t paying close attention.

“Say excuse me, asshole.” He heard the boy hiss out from behind him. Paris had to wipe the smirk off his face before he turned around.

“Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?” It melted into a glare. He didn’t need to force the irritation into his voice; it was right beneath the surface. He only needed to reshape it. It did not de-escalate from there.

The kid swung on him. Paris slipped to his right. He knew it was unfair. He was — for once — the more sober one in the exchange. His reflexes were overtrained. It didn’t matter. He’d been given an opening. He swung back. 

He pulled the punch, the same way he would have if it had been Delta. Not trying to kill him. Not even enough to seriously injure him. Just to do it. He got a few hits in just like that. There wasn’t any adrenaline in his body. All that existed was release.

It was a very funny feeling when the other party fought back.

The fight had to be mutual; he knew that ahead of time. He wasn’t crazy enough to just beat a stranger unprovoked. Still, the resistance he received came as a surprise. He wasn’t used to encountering it while in this headspace. In spite of what he’d planned, it caught him a bit off guard. Not enough to change the outcome, just kind of diminishing what he could get out of it. It shifted back into a normal fight just as soon as the kid had recovered. He was so fucking sick of those. The way they were matched up was decent, though. He gave more than he got, enough that he was momentarily sated. 

The bouncers got in the way before he could finish, though. They dragged both of them outside, practically throwing them onto the pavement. Paris landed on his feet, twisting out of their grasp. The other boy landed roughly on his side. All too familiar. The boy sat up, trying to struggle to his feet. The only reason Paris didn’t immediately kick him back down was because he was aware on some level how hard the concrete must be. No broken bones. That was a rule.

He shook his wrists out, ready to draw even more out of the encounter if he could afford it. He rolled his eyes as the club’s doors opened again and the boys’ friends came to the rescue. God fucking dammit.

He was right — the concrete was hard. They were all so fucking drunk and uncoordinated, but there were a lot of them. It was like fighting a moving wall. He wasn’t ready to be on the defensive. Not while he was like this. The most Delta had ever given him in return were cat scratches — sometimes electric shocks, if he was really freaking out. He’d barely even feel them until afterwards. Here, the sharpness of the pain took him out of the mood instantly. The one it forced him into was even stranger. For some reason, he started laughing. One of their fists caught the side of his face. Another half dragged him backwards, making him lose his balance even from a sitting position. He got the preternatural instinct to protect his skull. He felt the hard edge of someone’s boot collide with his interlaced knuckles just as soon as he did so. He’d just barely spared himself the head trauma.

“Not the head, dumbass,” One of them slurred. 

“Yeah, dumbass.” Paris was still laughing hysterically. Someone kicked him in the stomach, cutting him off mid-breath.

“He’s fucking insane. Like, mental sickness.” The boy he’d initially started the fight with had started to walk away. “Leave him alone.”

“Pussy.” Paris coughed. He flinched as one of the shapes above him moved, but another hit didn’t come. They withdrew.

He sat up slowly. His knuckles were bloodied, though he did not know if it was his or not. He glanced back at the club doors. The bouncers had been watching the whole thing. They shook their head. No re-entry. As if.

When he was back on his feet, his vision immediately got spotty. He thought it was another insect hallucination, but the movement was much more rapid. Like ink blots. The only reason he bothered to distinguish was because the hallucinations did not usually take up his entire field of vision. They didn’t threaten to take him down again. He blinked in and out of wakefulness and somehow did not stop walking until he heard the sound of waves crashing. Nobody could see the ocean at this time of night, only the darkness that held it. The beachgrass was right off the road. He took about five steps into the sand before he collapsed.

==========

It was the that heat first woke him up. The sun had only just risen over the ocean and already it was unbearable. All his skin felt dry and course. He rose his head up slowly from the dune and immediately regretted it. He hadn’t felt the soreness until he moved; it did not go away again once he stilled.

He blinked. A small caiman laid within the reeds a few feet from his face. They watched each other for some time. Little insects crawled rapid and clumsy throughout the pale grass and into the sand. There was an itch in his arms and his calves. He knew he’d spent the better part of the night getting eaten alive. 

He crawled up through the sand. The pavement was too hot to touch; he forced himself to rise. He shook the sand out from his shirt and hair. The sweat that was forming on his skin moistened it, coating him in a gross, muddy substance. The gnats buzzed incessantly. His mouth felt like cotton. Hell on fucking earth.

He trudged the path back to the motel room. He was lucky the spatial memory was still holding up, foggy as all his other facilities had become. Otherwise he’d have been totally lost. Lorelai…wasn’t as good with directions. Hopefully she’d made it back okay.

When he entered into the room, Lorelai was sitting up in the bed in just her camisole. The blanket was crumpled up around her. She looked up expectantly as he walked in. She wasn’t alone.

“Oh my god, you’re still alive.” Lorelai gawked. “Did you get kicked out of the club?”

“No,” he lied.

“So you just left me there alone for no reason?” She asked.

“Yes.”

“Very cool of you. I was worried.”

“Clearly not that fucking worried.” His eyes traced over the girl sitting cross-legged on the bed beside her. She was wearing Lorelai’s hoodie, which was technically his hoodie. She was also hitting his vape. She didn’t take any visible offense.

“I should probably head out, anyway.” The girl unfolded her legs and stepped into her slides. She gave Paris a quick once-over as she stood up. “You’d better take some Nexgard. The sand fleas burrow.”

He could immediately feel the itch, even knowing it was psychosomatic. She slipped the door open.

“You’ll call me?” Lorelai called after her hopefully. The girl winked without smiling and disappeared behind the closing door.

Paris held one open hand up in the direction she had left in. The universal — one-handed — what-the-fuck? gesture.

“What?” Lorelai’s tone was defensive. “You’re not my boyfriend.”

“We are on the damn lam and you’re inviting people back to our room?”

“Relax. She’s rebel. She was at Occupy.”

He could’ve guessed. Any breed of deviant sexuality typically signaled rebel allegiance. God knew Empire wouldn’t have them. That didn’t necessarily put his mind at ease, but he’d have preferred to be caught by one of the rebel groups over Nezu if it really came down to it. Lorelai held up a large envelope from the nightstand.

“She asked if I could drop this off for her at Coda since we’re already headed North.” She smiled a little.

“Fuck no.”

“Well, it’s my ship and I’m driving, so we’re probably gonna. But we can talk about it.” 

There was definitely an edge to her voice. He didn’t answer, knowing there was nothing he could do but irritate her further. He moved past her.

“You should shower,” she suggested helpfully.

“I’m gonna shower.” 

……..

tags:

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

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

@micechomper @writereleaserepeat

[fleur-a-whump]

Overloaded (#1)

Preventative Measures

so like. this is a thing. been toying with this little guy in my head for a few weeks and like, almost nothing is concrete but I'm hoping I'll turn it into a series.

content: ex-villain whumpee, hero/leader whumper, manipulative whumper, just like a LOT of manipulation, collars/collaring, referenced electrocution, low self esteem, subtle threats, guilt trips

I've never done this before, let me know if I missed something!!

masterlist | next

----------

Villain has finally been given a chance. A chance to prove he's more than what the whole city has always thought of him, more than what his father raised him to be. He wanted to do good in the world. The heroes were finally giving him a chance to be more than they've always thought of him. 

...or so he thought.

He gulps as he stares at the shock collar in Team Leaders hands. It's a small thing, sleek and unassuming. But he knows exactly what it is because Team Leader had shown him how it worked.  The man is currently speaking to him nonchalantly. Villain should really be listening to the hero that holds the key to a better life. But that collar... shakes Villain's faith in Team Leader. Just a little.

"Villain," the man says shortly. Impatiently. Shit.

Villain jumped to attention, nerves only growing worse. 

"Sorry, sorry! I'm just-just a little confused. I thought... I was a part of the team..." He tries to keep the heartbreak out of his voice. He doesn't quite succeed. 

"If you'd listen..." the Team Leader sighed deeply. Villain was going to throw up. 

Team Leader began again, speaking slowly as if to a child. Or a stupid person. Villain thinks he fell into the latter column. "I was just saying this will help you better mesh with the team. I'm sure you've noticed people are a little nervous with you around."

Hostile. Villain would use the word hostile.

"Given your past, everything you've done," the man drawled. Villain can't hold back a wince. 

"So, to ease their worries, and allow them to see how great I know you can be, this is just a little precautionary measure. A bit of a show."

Ryan swallowed thickly.

"So... It wouldn't be used..."

He tries to keep himself from thinking about electricity burning the sensitive skin of his throat as it shoots down his spine and into his skull to paralyze him. He's familiar enough with the feeling; he doesn't need to imagine it.

Team Leader gives him an easy smile. "As long as there are no issues, of course not."

"...Issues?"

"Oh, stuff that'll never happen. Just breaking any of the rules."

Villain arched his brow, slightly dubious. "Rules.”

"Yeah, like, follow orders, don't fraternize with any of your old contacts, don't leave our level, don't work unsupervised, don't harm the team. Stuff you've been doing this whole time."

"Wait, don't leave the level?

"I mean, that's pretty obvious, bud. If we can't see you, we can't know that you're following the rest of the rules."

He nods mutely, gaze wandering. this whole thing just. He didn't know. It hurt.

Team Leader gently tilted his head up. "Villain, I'm only doing this because I trust you. I know you'd never do anything that could jeopardize your place here."

He doesn't trust that Villain is a hero though, obviously. That he's good. Because Villain could never be good. Not now. Not after all he's done. 

No, he can only hope to do good. And the only way he'll be able to do that is with the team. If this is what it takes to ease his team into working with him, if this is what it takes for him to stay, then he'll do it.

"O-okay."

"Atta boy, Villain! I knew you could do it, man."

Villain nods, trying to give him a smile.

Team Leader moves towards him all too quickly, and he can't help the flinch. The man doesn't seem to notice—or at least he doesn't acknowledge it—and is soon once again gently tilting Villain's chin up from where it had fallen. 

Villain fights the urge to lean into the touch.

While he's distracted, Team Leader swiftly brings the collar, already disengaged and bent open at the hinges, and presses it to Villain's skin. 

Villain jolts at the cold metal and fights to swallow as it's closed around his neck.

The locking mechanism clicks right up against his spine. He can't help the shudder that trickles down his back at the finality of the sound.

"I'm so proud of you, bud," Team Leader says with a big smile and a ruffle of Villain's shaggy curls.

The tightness in his chest eases, just a little. A little part of him flares in anger at how easily he's comforted. He doesn't deserve the comfort.

But he's trying. The collar now fit snuggly around his neck, like it was made for him, is proof of that.

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

ps ex-villain whumpee on the hero team but whumped by the hero team is my all-time favorite trope and it is so hard to find I have finally hit the point of needing to produce my own story to scratch the itch

[whumpbees]

Whumpees having a moment of defiance, of bravery-

Only to have whumper shut them up with a single look.

[cepheusgalaxy]

Intimate whumpers who exploit whumpee's touch-starvedness my beloved

[distracted-obsessions]

For Villain Stuff: Ex-Villain has joined the team and they're all pretty tense at first. But they all begin to warm up to Villain ever so slightly-nothing too crazy, but not nothing either. Villain even becomes something a little almost like friends with A. But then something happens. Maybe a member of the team/the whole team is just very stressed and Villain does something slightly off at the wrong time, and the stressed teammate/whole team except A just goes off on them saying terrible stuff. It's so bad that Villain runs off/leaves. Then the next day, A has to find out what happened from the remorseful teammate/team and how Villain is gone. And this makes A realize how they all, them included, really should have given Villain more of a chance and A tells the rest of the team how hard Villain is trying.

Then also the even more awkward situation once Villain comes back, still feeling slightly betrayed by the team and assuming A feels the same way too, as the others try to apologize/make up for it and A tries to regain their friendship.

Hero woke to the sound of an alarm. It was their least favorite sound by far since it wasn't their personal alarm but the 'everyone get up right now before we all die' alarm.

They rolled out of bed, not bothering to put on daytime clothes as they stumbled towards the war room. They found the team already there, all of them looking grim, and Villain noticeably missing.

Hero winced, remembering yesterday. Teammate had been in one of their moods yesterday and Villain had made a joke about them being a prickly bastard. Teammate had snapped back at him, saying that he was one to talk with the kind of 'prickliness' he used to show the team. Villain had laughed it off but then the others had piled on, mentioning things he had done and it had gotten a little personal. Personal enough that Villain had just left the room without a word.

"Hey, guys," Hero said, rubbing his eyes and yawning. "Villain still sleeping?"

The team all shared glances but said nothing.

"Leader?" Hero asked hesitantly. "What's going on? Where's Villain?"

Leader sighed, turning her attention to the computer screen. It showed a list of various villains, fences, and identity brokers. "He's gone. We don't know where or if he left with anything but his tracking anklet was on his bedside table. And he's nowhere in the base."

Hero felt the blood drain from their face. They knew yesterday was less then pleasant but was it really enough to make him run? They glanced over Leader's shoulder and realized that the list was a list of Villain's former associates. They felt a flare of rage at that being the teams first thought. It was almost enough to overpower their own guilt for thinking the same.

"Oh come on!" Hero said, pressing a button to t,urn off the screen. "He's not going to just run back to villainy after one bad day!"

Leader gave them a confused look. "What do you mean, one bad day? What bad day?"

"I mean yesterday." Hero looked around at the team finding only confused faces. "You guys were pretty rough on him, you know."

"We were just talking shop," Youngest said. "We do that all the time."

"But do we do it in front of the villains?" Hero asked. "He was really uncomfortable. He left the room."

"It wasn’t that bad," Teammate said, rolling their eyes.

Hero turned to Teammate and raised an eyebrow. "You personally called his life's goal that we thwarted only like two months ago 'a child's temper tantrum'. I don't think I'm the only one who thinks that might be a little hurtful."

Teammate sipped their coffee and said nothing.

"Anyway, he didn't just go back to villainy over that!" Hero said firmly. They remembered the look on Villain's face as he left, clicking through his phone as he mumbled about knowing who his real friends were. "...Probably," they added, less sure.

Leader came over and put a hand on Hero's shoulder. "It's ok, Hero. We'll find him. And we'll deal with any consequences that arise."

Hero nodded and walked back out of the war room. This was going to need daytime clothes.

...

Eight hours. Eight hours and no sign of Villain. Hero was not one to give up hope but they knew how good Villain was at disappearing when he needed to.

Hero had just been ready to take a break for lunch when they heard the sound of someone hissing and spitting, probably while being dragged in handcuffs. They knew the sound well but there was something familiar about it.

"Will you lay off?! I know where we're going! I live here, remember?"

The whole team turned towards the door and watched as four cops dragged Villain into the war room. They threw Villain into the room and Villain, who's hands were cuffed behind his back, stumbled forward and just barely managed to twist his body to sit in the chair that Teammate pulled out for him. His glare was vicious.

"Where the hell did you find him?" Leader asked, staring at Villain in surprise.

"I went out to get an Irish Coffee," Villain said, passing that same glare to Leader.

"Six states away?" One of the cops asked.

"Without your tracker?" Leader asked.

"Or telling anyone?" Teammate asked.

Villain squirmed around until he was sitting down in the chair properly, looking like he was trying to pretend that he wasn't pouting. "I spent my twenties in that town. I wanted that specific Irish Coffee. I took public transit. I used my agency ID. I didn't exactly try to hide. What, did you want me to leave a note?"

"Preferably," Leader said. She sighed and waved the cops away. They left, leaving Villain and the team alone.

There was a moment of silence before Villain leaned forward, rattling the cuffs. "Can I get these off or have I been officially been given villain status again?"

"Villain, now really isn't the time for you to be defensive. You're the one-"

"No, I think I can be defensive all I want!" Villain said. "How long did it take for you to put out an APB? I know you canceled my card after what, 30 minutes?"

"Villain," Leader started. "You have to understand that-"

"No! No, you have to understand! How long do I have to work with you to get some trust? I thought that I might have enough trust that you would at least wait a full day before assuming I fell back into old temper tantrums." He looked Teammate when he said that. They didn't meet his eyes.

Villain sighed. "Look. Just uncuff me. I'll go put my tracker back on and I won't take it off until whatever new tracker you ordered while I was gone gets here."

Leader sighed again and helped Villain out of the cuffs. "Look, we just need more communication. Ok?"

Villain shrugged, standing and rubbing his wrists. "Great. I'm going to put the tracker back on and then make myself an Irish Coffee." Villain frowned. "Since the cops spilled mine."

The team watched Villain leave again and Hero looked at the other three before calling out, "Am I invited?"

Villain poked his head back in, looking at Hero critically. "Did you cancel my card?"

"No?"

"Of course you're invited! I'll make you one." Villain smiled at Hero but Hero couldn't miss the slightly vicious note in his eyes as he walked out. Hero followed after and glanced back at the team.

"You all need to figure out how to fix that." Hero pointed at them in turn then walked away to follow Villain. I'll have to fix my end.

[clickerflight]

Whump week: It made you stronger

@week-of-whump

Masterlist

Part 6

Yooooo! Last one. This last bit was so good to write, and so cathartic to write. I know this was my story, I know what I did, but it still HURTS! Actually, if I need to cry on demand, I think about Ichimaru and it gets me every time.

Content: centipede monster whumper, ex slave whumpee, mention of minor death, mind control, grief, creepy whumper

.................................................

“So, this is where you ended up.”

Souka stood, weapons at his sides. He was grown now, older, wiser, and more powerful than he had been when he had last seen the woman standing in front of him. 

Leara, the lady of the household he had been a slave in. The lady of the household where his best friend had died in his arms. The lady of the household where, just that evening, all of the slaves had been freed. 

Souka was grown, now, and he was the kind of hero he had been named after. A slave who rose up to free others, and strike down the masters. 

“I almost didn’t recognize you,” she churred. “It’s good to see you again. You look quite well.”

He sneered at her. He had exhausted his voice already for the day while directing slaves to safety, and he very much doubted this woman knew any form of sign language. 

“What, nothing to say to me, oh great Souka?”

Souka simply lifted his weapons, ready to cut down another blight. 

“Oooh, how scary,” she said, and it hit Souka that she wasn’t begging like the other ones. She wasn’t groveling or ordering servants about. She simply smiled, and he noticed, not for the first time, that her teeth were sharper than they should be. 

Souka had been too young, too inexperienced to see it when he was 14. Now he could, though. 

The woman began to transform as she stepped forward, lengthening and segmenting. 

“You know, your namesake was my slave at one point, too. He escaped, much more on his own merit than the way you go away,” she hissed, her body becoming chitinous. Souka avoided her eyes. He knew what she was, now. Her body became longer and longer, awful clicking legs echoing on the walls as she circled the room, blocking the exits with her centipede body. 

“He came back, he rescued slave after slave,” she said, twisting and contorting to try and catch Souka’s eye so she could weave a spell over him. “Then he came here. To me. He was more prepared though.”

Souka struck. She flinched back, but he managed to sever a couple of legs. She screamed, twisting and striking at him, and he dodged quickly to the middle of the room, sword at the ready. 

“He was slower than you, I suppose,” she grumbled. “But you’ll fall, all the same. He came here and looked me in the eyes, declared that he was the savior of the slaves, but he was already mine. I suppose you’re a little smarter than him, hmmm? Or maybe you learned your lessons a bit better as a slave, not to look your betters in the eyes.”

Souka took a deep breath. He wouldn’t rise to her jibes. He stayed calm and rushed her again, this time getting in a deep cut on her body and dodging away as green blood oozed from the wound. 

Leara dove for him over and over again, only getting wounds for her efforts before she scuttled back, circling and guarding the exits again. 

“Oooooh, you’re little white haired friend would be so proud of you, wouldn’t he? He’s the one who named you, right?”

Souka didn’t flinch, he didn’t let a single tell show on his face that she was broaching a painful subject. 

“Ah, yes. Ichimaru. That was his name, right? He was older than you by a little, protective little thing. Sickly little thing. Did you know at that time that he was putting so much of his hope in you because he knew he wouldn’t make it out?”

Souka continued to study her for an opening, planning his next attacks, but her words stung. He hadn’t known at the time. He’d guessed at it later, but never let himself dwell on it.It had hurt too much.

 He had let Ichimaru build him up slowly over months, let himself hope that maybe there was more to the world than being a nameless slave who knew nothing but pain and work, and then-

“It’s always annoying when the slaves get sick. Their work slows down and whipping them at that point only loses me workers. And while that is annoying, it is almost fun. I like watching the moral sink even lower than it was before, watching everyone cry for the lost connections. Watching you, my little hopeless slave boy, weep over that cold dead body for hours was so much fun. You had really dared to think you’d be getting out of here. That you’d be something someday. And then you lost everything once again.”

Souka could feel his hands shaking. He remembered that night. He remembered the pain and the anguish. He still cried at night, sometimes, thinking about Ichimaru. If only he could have survived just a little bit longer. Then Anisha would have taken both of them in and he would have gotten help. 

“I heard you and your ilk were looking for where his body was buried. Wanted to give him a proper burial, hmmm?” Leara asked, still trying to catch Souka’s narrowed eyes. “Don’t worry, I took good care of it. I am a very big centipede, no? I need a lot of food.”

Souka didn’t even think. Red took his vision and he attacked, desperately needing to inflict pain on this evil creature, make her feel even a fraction of the pain he’d been through. 

She was ready for him, though. She struck faster than he could process with the grief flowing through him in waves, and the best he could do was close his eyes as she wrapped her horrible segmented body around him, pinning his arms to his sides and forcing him to drop his weapons. Her awful legs poked at him as she squeezed him, keeping him from moving as they parted his hair so his eyes were clear of everything else. 

He flinched when a leg touched his face, the end covered in tiny hooks that pulled unpleasantly at his skin. 

“And look at all of you now. That pain made you stronger. Now you’re the hero Souka 2.0! I could make you my warrior! And since you absorbed the Torsha amulet you will last even longer than the last one,” she said with a croon. “Come on, pet. Open your eyes.”

Souka shook as he tried to free himself, the legs tapping and pulling at his face, trying to pry his eyes open. There was only so much strength to be found in eyelids, and the prying little legs were winning. Souka rolled his eyes up as much as he could, following his eyelids, trying to pry his head away from the terrifying grasp Leara had on him. 

“Come on now, child,” Leara said, annoyed. “It won’t hurt. I expect it would be a relief. You won’t have to think about anything. I can take the pain away.”

Souka tried to find his voice, but all that came out was a wheezing gasp, his throat aching at the effort. He writhed again when his fingers came across something wet. It was one of the wounds from before and he dug his fingers in, tearing it open farther. 

Leara screamed, dropping him on instinct and he scooped one of his swords up, turning and slashing across her belly. 

“You filthy little beast!” she shrieked, striking at him. Her blow was ineffective, bouncing off of his impervious skin and he held his ground, watching for her head out of the corner of his eye. She rounded on him, ready to wrap around him again and he ducked to the side, swinging his sword. 

With a clean snick sound, her head fell to the ground and her screaming stopped immediately. Her body skittered around the room still, searching and twitching as it went. After about 20 chopped off limbs, the body collapsed to the floor, unable to support its weight. 

Souka stared at his fallen enemy. He mouthed and signed to himself; to the body on the floor. 

I should have come back sooner. 

@whumpsday

[urlocalwhumper]

ex-whumper who is remorseful and turning their life around runs onto one of their past whumpees. they sincerely apologize for all they've done and say they don't expect forgiveness or even civility, but ex-whumpee is very gracious, almost suspiciously so.

in reality, ex-whumpee is still extremely angry and doesn't forgive ex-whumper in the slightest. they're seeking revenge, and without knowing it, ex-whumper just handed them an opportunity to get in their head and torment them from the inside out on a silver platter.

[whump-is-love-whump-is-life]

Oooooo

You guys know ‘fuck, marry, kill’

Now for the whump community I present:

✨whumpee, whumper, caretaker✨

Name three characters and have the other person decide who should be the whumpee, whumper, and caretaker!

Actually I’m turning this into an ask game

[i-butter-not-be-a-bot]

"they don't care about your silly little fate"

Fandom: pokemon (masters ex to be more specific.)

Used prompt: "they don't care about you" (duh)

It isn't really brought up though but Lumen is my player character and she is a child whumper. Nobody thinks she would ever do anything bad, after all she is such a nice girl, and she uses that to her advantage to manipulate people.

Lumen circled around Lance like a predator, a wicked grin seemed to be permanently glued upon her features. The knife in her left hand dragged awkwardly over his exposed skin, not yet cutting but still reminding him of the ever so present threat.

The young girl hummed softly, "do you think they'll ever find your body if I'd kill you?" She stopped moving and stood behind his back, the champion tensed but against his instincts did not turn around.

He almost managed to sound calm as he answered, "Eventually they will," he was silent for a moment before mumbling, "but it'll be far too late for me."

"That's what I thought," She leaned against his shoulder nonchalantly and he couldn't help but let a soft grunt of pain escape because she put pressure on one of the too many dark bruises tainting his pale body. "Be quiet," she snarled before continuing on that same menacing soft tone as before, "they can't help you. I mean nobody even cares about your silly little fate."

A bit of anger settled in his chest and he clenched his firsts, it was all her fault. His friends did care, they just didn't believe him because Lumen was such a convincing liar. She was a manipulative child that spun every single situation to her advantage until Lance had nobody left who really trusted him. It made so much sense that nobody believed him, if somebody told him about what this child did he wouldn't believe it either. He would be way more likely to believe that he, the adult, hurt her even though that couldn't be less true.

Yet, despite the fact that it made total sense that none of the other champions or any of his other friends believed him when he tried telling them, despite that it still hurt. He was tortured and they- they just said he shouldn't make things like that up as an excuse and that 'there might not be any proof now but I am keeping my eyes on you'

'no, a thirteen year old would never carry a knife and a gun, and kidnap people.' he thought bitterly as Lumen continued slowly circling around him.

[paingoes]

Crash Out - Reflection

Birthday, shower thoughts, shrooms

Paris reflects on the birthday incident and his life in general

(Content: whumper turned whumpee, (ex) royal whumpee, living weapon whumpee, whumper POV, past abuse, abuse apologism, dehumanization, beating, drugs, addiction, body image, minor emeto, suicidal ideation, guilt, death mention)

It was his birthday and the same night everything was destined to be destroyed. The Castle Thales seemed to know this and did its best to look haunted. The warmth of her presence broke through all that was the cold and crystalline. She was the only one he could stand to speak to.

Everything had been fine until they’d ended up back in the main hall and that old argument started up again.

Delta knelt at the side of the throne with the golden chain around his neck. All the bruises had been painted over carefully. He looked bored more than anything else. One hand played idly with the thread of the carpet. He did not see them come in.

Lorelai went rigid just as soon as she saw him. She pulled away from Paris as harshly as if he’d hit her.

“…You really keep him there all night?” she asked in unease.

He rolled his eyes, knowing exactly where this conversation was headed. He didn’t want to go through it again now. Not on his birthday. He wanted a single fucking night where he didn’t have to think about it.

“Yeah,” he answered flatly. Obviously.

Her expression darkened, “And you make him wear a leash.”

“Who cares?”

“I’m sure he does,” she said, “Can you imagine how he feels?”

“Oh my god, are you still on about that commie shit?” He moved one hand to his hip, his irritation deepening. He was tired of explaining this. She wouldn’t understand.

“You are mean,” she said. She said it like it was a revelation, like it was something that was supposed to surprise him. Like she was finding it out now for the first time.

“Yeah,” he agreed.

“You’re worse each time I see you.” 

Something like horror was dawning in her eyes. She was the only person he cared about in the world and in that moment, he swore that he hated her.

~

One year later, in the bathroom of a rundown motel, he washed the dirt off of his hands and carefully re-bandaged all the places the skin had torn. The air was heavy with steam. It opened up the shredded membrane of his throat. It distorted his reflection.

“Can you imagine how he feels?”

The thought came to him without warning, but with the kind of day it’d been, it didn’t come as a surprise. And he couldn’t have imagined it, not really. He’d never spared Delta the time, or even the consideration.

But he was starting to. He could almost imagine it, forced down onto his knees by the barrel of a gun, the blindfold tied over his eyes. He’d treated it like it was nothing. Empire demanded sacrifice — from everyone. It was all just more of the same.

He wiped at the mirror to reveal the litany of bruises along his skin. His body was turning into a minefield of scars. It was meth thin, and tired often. He’d done such a number on it.

~

Twelve hours earlier, Lorelai’s ship had pulled down onto the clearing of the festival. For all that had happened, the partying had went on uninterrupted throughout the entire trip. She’d asked if he wanted to skip it for a little bit, since his head was fucked, and since his body was fucked, and since he’d almost died. He said no.

It didn’t take them long to disappear into the crowd, about as indistinguishable from any other pair of losers in their twenties. She could get along with anyone — and he was finding it was a lot more tolerable to talk to people when they didn’t know who he was.

They found refuge in the company of the spring-breakers. College students. They were easy to work. The fine arts student pulled a knitted pouch from within her purse.

“No. None for you. Don’t give him any,” Lorelai insisted, popping a handful of the shrooms into her mouth.

“I’m fine,” Paris said.

“No. You always freak out.”

“I’m literally fine.”

“Don’t give him any.”

They waited until her back was turned before making the handover. 

“I took it,” he said, the moment she turned back.

“Are you fucking crazy?!”

~

“You know what? Fine.” He yanked at the chain around Delta’s neck, harder than he needed to. He slid the key into the lock. The chain clattered loudly to the floor.

“Fuck both of you.”

He stormed out. It was freezing on Thales that night and he could barely feel it. He was hot. He was burning all the way through the wood path.

He stomped up the ramp of the ship and all the way to his room.

Empire demanded everything. It would erode away at any happiness he might’ve gotten, any other life he might’ve had. He would give and give and give and get nothing and still keep at it endlessly. He’d made his peace with it. 

He thought he did.

And still he thought he might have her. 

Empire would rob him of that too. It was the final intrusion, one final act of self denial.

He handled it with all the grace of someone off six different stimulants.

He tore his room apart and he took everything in it. He was in the grip of it. All the scorn and betrayal bubbled up and coiled and burned. 

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right.

She belonged to him. 

They both did. 

~

Through the thin walls of the motel room, he could hear her on the other side. She laughed softly, her voice indistinct as she took the call.

She could never know. He’d tell her almost anything, but this she could never know. 

He tried to imagine saying it to her now. He tried to imagine telling her what he’d done that night. The fear and the shame coursed through him like ice. He never could. 

Everything he owned fit inside of the trunk of her ship. There was so little that belonged to him anymore. 

~

The shrooms crept up on them about midway through the set. They hit her first. He saw the way her eyes dilated, the little mania that crept into her movements, and knew he did not have long to go. Sure enough, the colors shifted, and the strange vibrations through his body picked up in synch with the bass.

He thought it was fine. In the busyness and brightness of the crowd, he could almost forget that it was his destiny to freak out each time he went on psychs. It was only as the sky darkened and the music quieted that he felt it crawling.

They were in the woods. Why hadn’t he realized it until now? He stumbled back to the college kids’ little outpost and found that they were surrounded by woods on all sides. He was on the ground. He was in the dirt. Something large and tiger shaped crested in his periphery. Something dog-headed flashed behind his closed eyes — and the harder he tried to push the thought from his mind, the more it wanted to stay. He whined miserably into his crossed arms, hiding his face in the grass.

“I told you not to take it,” Lorelai sighed, combing her fingers through his hair.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, meaning it. 

“Shh,” she said. She kissed his temple. “Just ride it out.”

~

It was so easy to blame Delta. He’d gotten into the habit of it. And Delta took it so endlessly. He never fought back. 

Paris would never be happy. He’d known it for a long time. Empire demanded sacrifice. It demanded and demanded and demanded. Paris would give to it endlessly, everything. He did everything for it.

He was so fucking sick of it.

He did not dream of a better life. He dreamed of dying. He dreamed of crashing the ship into the side of a mountain and killing everyone onboard. He dreamed of unlocking Delta’s collar at the ball and unleashing upon all of them a fury that they’d all done everything to deserve. He dreamed of death in a million different ways.

Paris hated his life. He hated Empire and that nuclear bomb they had built up in his brain, the child they’d ripped from his home and turned into a machine, the fucking symbol of all that had ever gone wrong. Real evil burns and coils and glows. It destroyed cities and cut civilians in half. It cauterized wounds and bled from the mouth. It was down there now, with one of Lorelai’s hands pressed up against its own.

Because Delta was so fucking blameless. He’d never had a choice, he heard Lorelai’s voice in falsetto.

What fucking choice had he had, either? Delta got to be blameless. And he got to be worse each time I see you. He got to be mean.

He did the last of the line off of the cracked sink.

He’d show them fucking mean.

~

He felt around in the space between his ribs. He traced careful fingers over the star-shaped scar on his chest and then again over the bandages on his palm. It still hurt nearly too much to touch. He didn’t know when it would heal again. They’d stitched it up for him at CTRL and they had not even done it painfully. He hadn’t understood why. He still didn’t understand why.

The word mercy tasted sour against his tongue. It spun sickly within his mind. 

Wasn’t he just a little bit disappointed when the gun was removed from his mouth, when his life was extended any longer than it had to be?

And wasn’t he so devastated when he learned that he was spared?

He traced the scratches along his arms. Delta’s claws had gotten in deep. It was some of the last traces of him left on the earth. All the rest was buried at the bottom of the ocean.

It wasn’t fair.

He didn’t deserve it.

~

One of the art students gave him a sketchpad just to shut him up. He took it, grateful to give any form to the horrific intrusions.

He drew wolves, mostly. Wolf heads. Lorelai laid down on the grass beside him. The others were sprawled out a bit further away. 

She wanted to share the paper with him. He held it in between the two of them. His drawings were scary, at first. All the wolves had eyes in their throat. All the lions had teeth like knives.

But she filled in the empty space with vines and flowers until it looked like a jungle you’d find in a children’s book. She said she wished they had paint. He remembered she’d been good at that. They’d have gotten a lot of mileage out of it. 

He felt his fear dwindling. He felt guilty that he let it.

He knew he freaked out whenever he took it. He did that with most things, really. Did he even like drugs? Why had he taken it?

~

Paris barely heard him. So much adrenaline coursed through his system that even seeing felt like an impossibility. He didn’t bother holding back anymore. He didn’t want to.

The impact broke the mirror open and scattered the shards all across the floor. He threw Delta roughly down on top of the broken pieces, not caring. The glass crunched beneath his boots, crystalline, iridescence.

Everything was ruined. Everything was ruined and there was no coming back. There was no hope.

He pulled his leg back and drove it straight into the side of Delta’s rib, listening for the crack that followed. He hated it. He hated all of this so much he could not stand it. He was spiraling, he knew, completely lost in the goddamn tantrum. He didn’t care. He wished they’d both just fucking die.

He yanked at Delta’s collar again, dragging him into the bathroom. He was going on about some shit that Paris didn’t understand, that he couldn’t even begin to care about. If he’d been listening, if he’d really been anywhere but inside his own head, he might’ve noticed that Delta had been crying. That he’d started begging. He didn’t notice. He took a rough handful of his hair, forcing his head back down whenever he squirmed too much.

The water reached the rim, and he’d forced his head under that, too.

Delta laid gasping within the tub, the thick strands of his hair slick and wet across his face, his wrists bound up in chains. He’d tried to speak again. He couldn’t. Paris clamped a hand over his mouth. He didn’t want him to speak, to interrupt his own spiral. He wanted to feel it all, to drown in it.

“I hate you,” he said.

And Delta’s eyes got wide, probably wondering what he’d done wrong, as if it’d ever been about him at all.

~

He tried to throw up, but nothing could come out. He hadn’t eaten in days. It’d become habit. His hands were shaking and his nose was bloody and the hot steam of the bathroom made it so that there was no coolness to the tiles. He felt no relief even as he pressed his skin against them, as badly as he wanted to lie down on the floor and never get up. He was sick.

He could still hear Lorelai through the door, the faint sound of the phone call, and of her music playing in the background. She seemed to know, always. He heard her rising up from the bed, a gentle knock at the door.

“Paris?” she called softly through it.

He winced, closed his eyes. How could he ever begin to tell her?

He was sick.

~

Did he even like drugs? He asked himself this again and again, still sprawled out on the grass, still with her beside him. The night was on in earnest now. Thousands of stars peppered the sky. The music student said there would be a meteor shower tonight. Maybe they’d get lucky.

Why had he fought so hard and so fiercely? They’d come all this way, across a hundred different planets, across an entire year. He’d dragged her from her home and across the galaxy. It was such a desperate bid.

He must have wanted to live. This was the behavior of someone who wanted to live.

And so why had he gotten drunk every night of the trip, and each night before that, ever since he turned fifteen? He’d taken the pills off the street when he could afford to pay for the real thing. He’d forgone the test kits, when it was no trouble for him to get them. He’d taken more than he should and he’d picked fights he couldn’t win. He’d spent hours prodding at Delta, at an atom bomb, just hoping for something-

He hoped the ship would crash sometimes. He hoped the stars they passed would explode without warning. He hoped for one thing, desperately, and he had for as long as he could remember.

I want to die.

It was a quiet admission. He could only say it in his head. Lorelai was tripping too hard, it would throw her in a bad way. But as it surfaced, there was no way to submerge it again. It rose up all at once.

Death evaded him. It was denied to him. Was he ever relieved afterwards? He wasn’t. He hadn’t been.

The world was cruel as it was endless — and it was out for him. He would die just as stupid and evil as everyone else had been.

But then they’d been so careful when they pulled him out of the grave. They’d bandaged his hand and stitched it without hurting him, even when they had every right to. They’d given him blood from their veins when his own had run out.

Lorelai’s hot tears had fell onto the bare skin of his clavicle. She’d clung to him when he was found. She didn’t want to see him in pain. In spite of everything.

She killed for him.

I want to die.

And as soon as he admitted it, he didn’t want it anymore.

“Lorry, I think I need to get sober,” he said.

She turned over in the grass, whining a little bit.

“Me tooooooo. Why is it lasting so long?”

“No, like, permanently.”

“Oh.” She poked her head up. “Are you serious?”

His hand rested against his chest. He could feel his heart beating beneath it, quick and painful. The same frantic rhythm it’d been honing for years. He nodded.

“I don’t want to feel like this anymore.”

Her face turned back into the grass. He looked back up into the sky, waiting for his heart to settle down, waiting for meteors. Absently, her hand reached out for his own.

~

On the morning after his birthday party, Paris woke up with sick clarity, and he knew he’d done something he could never take back.

One week later, Delta was dead and the kingdom was lost.

~

Paris stood up roughly from the bathroom floor. He pulled a clean shirt over his head and combed his hair out with his fingers. 

As he looked up into the clouded mirror, he remembered the shards that had spilled out onto the floor of Delta’s room. He’d broken the mirror.

Seven years of bad luck.

He was sure he’d earned himself so much more than that.

~~~

tags:

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

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

@micechomper @writereleaserepeat @aloafofbreadwithanxiety @whump-queen

[fleur-a-whump]

Overloaded (#4)

Rocky Reunions Pt. 1

Surprise! This shit went FAST.

Guys I’m so excited. Caretaker has joined the chat! Fair warning, our caretaker cusses like a sailor (aka I’m indulging my fondness for the word fuck)

CW: physical violence, electrocution, shock collar, hero whumper, ex-villain whumpee, veiled threats

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Kai was idling in the hall, absolutely dreading the impending meeting. He knew it was important; knew the reasoning behind regular Hero League briefings. But they were just so boring.

He had sent his team ahead of him into the massive semi-circle auditorium that was currently filling to the brim with just about every hero in the League. If he already wasn’t looking forward to spending the whole meeting sitting still, he definitely didn’t feel like going in early and suffering small talk with teams he didn’t know.

He was planning to pace the hall just outside one of the main entrances until the meeting started, but the weird looks he’s getting combined with the cacophony of chattering heroes spilling out quickly becomes too much. He wanders deeper into the maze of hallways as he tries not to think about what the meeting will be about. He’s sure it will either stress him out or piss him off. Or both. That’s happened before.

There was a bathroom down this hallway. Figures he’d make his way to water. He lets his core pull him even closer, feeling the water flow all around him through the pipes. Kai turns the sink’s faucet just long enough to manipulate some water flow through the air. He sends it flying back and forth between and around his hands, playing with it like a fidget toy. The water flattens down to a thin disk between his hands before he pops it up to spin on the tip of his finger. It was his newest trick he’d been working on.

Kai is suddenly startled by a rough groan and a shaky, quiet voice exhaling a curse. The precarious disk splashes down over his hand as he loses his concentration. He shakes it off as he peeks down the bathroom corridor. The stalls are all open, but he can make out someone kneeling in the last one.

He sighs as he moves towards it, knowing he’ll probably regret it. He knocks lightly as he edges his way in.

“You good, man?” he calls.

The man kneeling in front of the toilet nods and takes a breath, only to lurch forward, dry heaving. He shudders violently in his crouched position, swaying.

Kai is behind him in a moment, steadying him by one shoulder. He stands there sort of awkwardly while he makes sure the dude isn’t about to crack his skull on the tile.

“Is, uh, is there anyone I could get to help you maybe?” he asks, equal parts concerned and uncomfortable.

It seems like the man hesitates before shaking his head. He spits into the toilet one last time before slowly, shakily rising to his feet. Kai backs off to give him space. He wipes his mouth and flushes the toilet before turning towards Kai.

Time seems to slow as the man turns towards him. Kai’s eyes narrow as he meets unmistakeable bright blue eyes and curly brown hair, mussed and sweaty but recognizable. Despite not wearing his typical gas mask-like villain disguise, Kai’s all but sure he’s looking at a notorious villain.

“Tinker?”

Tinker stiffens just slightly, enough to confirm Kai’s suspicions.

He lunges.

Two pipes on either side of the villain suddenly burst at the pull of the superhero’s powers. Water rushes fast and unforgiving, slamming into the villain’s chest with sufficient force to throw him into the tiled wall. Kai directs the water to pin and encase his charged hands for good measure. He lets out a strangled groan at the pain of being thrown into the wall and gasps to catch his breath.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Kai growls.

He lets out a breathy chuckle as he adapts to the situation, scrutinizing Kai for a moment. “Nalu! I missed you, man. Didn’t you miss me?” the villain jokes with a playful grin, only a slight strain to his words hinting at the immense pressure of water on his chest.

“I'm not fucking playing around, Tinker,” he snaps. “Look around. We're in a bathroom. I could drown you without even trying.” His powers pull at the water just beyond his fingertips, ratting the pipes and fixtures for good measure.

Tinker's grin melts off his face, just fast enough that Kai knows it was a front. “Look man, I'm supposed to be here. I promise, just ask Miguel Toro, ask Shadow.”

“How the fuck do you know that name?”

“I—because, dude!” Tinker bursts, then immediately flinches slightly at his own outburst. Kai raises an eyebrow at him, and Tinker sighs with another little groan.

“I-I know him because, I told you, I’m supposed to be here. I’m on his team,” Tinker says in measured words, clearly trying to control his frustration.

Kai glares down at him, trying to read the kid. He was a few inches shorter than Kai and looked skinnier than he’d last seen him. Dark circles like bruises stained his under his eyes, making his already intense blue eyes stand out even more. He’s slightly green still—a subtle sheen of sweat across his forehead—from being sick. From this close, he could just make out the faint edge of a bruised jaw and cheek covered with makeup. The kid doesn’t look too hot. Weird.

Most importantly, though, Kai can’t see any sign the villain is lying. He is a villain and being a good liar is practically Villain 101, but Kai can’t imagine how he could possibly know Shadow’s real name besides him now, bizarrely, being with the Hero League.

He sighs, easing back on the water pressure. Tinker drags in a deep breath.

“What do you mean you’re supposed to be here?” Kai prods.

“I’m—the new villain reform initiative, I’m the guinea pig. I came to the Hero League; they—they’re giving me a chance,” the villain says quietly.

Kai scrutinizes him one more moment before sighing and pulling the water away from. The kid slumps against the wall when he’s released, breathing heavily. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think Tinker was more hyperventilating with fear than anything else. But this is Psychosis’ protege; he’s one of the most notorious new villains in the city. He's bested Kai several times. There’s no way he’s that afraid.

Kai forces the water back into the pipes he burst, wincing slightly at the damage. Two very burst pipes and maybe a dozen destroyed tiles. Plus the holes in the wall. He might’ve gotten a little carried away again. He grabs the villain’s arm tightly, freezing the holes in the pipes shut and making a mental note to let his supervisor know. Mari was gonna kill him. Six pipes this month. He sighs and shakes his head.

“Come on, let’s go find Miguel,” Kai grinds out, frustrated that this was now his problem. He pulls the pliant villain out of the bathroom with a tight grip on his arm.

They make their way through the halls in tense silence, only occasionally interrupted by Kai’s huffing and annoyed grumbling as it takes longer and longer to find Miguel in the maze of hallways around the auditorium.

Kai is just about ready to start yelling again when he suddenly feels a sharp, painful jolt of electricity shoot up his arm. He swears loudly, dropping the villain’s arm as fast as he can. He’s about to burst some more pipes in preparation for a fight when he realizes Tinker has yelped in clear pain and completely collapsed to the ground. The kid’s muscles are so tense it looks painful as he twitches and groans on the floor.

What the fuck, Kai thinks.

He crouches next to the villain, who’s clearly in severe pain, not sure what to do. Since when did Tinker’s electricity hurt him? Kai’s seen him use his powers plenty of times before, and he’s never seen anything like this. Is this some kind of weird trap? He doesn’t touch the kid, not wanting to get shocked himself, but his hands hover over him, not sure what to do.

Eventually, it seems like the electricity that’s rendering the villain totally immobile subsides and he gasps, tears suddenly spilling over. He shakes and quivers through the aftershocks, gulping oxygen. His pain seems too genuine for this to be a trap.

He puts his hand on the kid’s arm and he flinches like he’s been burned. The kid whimpers in pain, eyes glazed over and not quite there. Kai realizes he’s mumbling something under his breath and leans closer. He can just barely make out what the kid is saying.

“I-I’ll be g-good, I’m sorry. I’m trying, p-please, I’m s-sorry,” he stutters.

Kai grabs his arms a little more firmly this time and doesn’t let go even when the villain flinches again. He shakes the trembling kid lightly, trying to get him to snap out of it.

“Tinker? Come on, man. What the hell is going on?”

Tinker’s eyes eventually clear. He blinks up at Kai—so openly vulnerable and confused and scared that it startles him. He’s not sure what to do with that, so he decides to focus on anchoring Tinker in the moment, clearing his throat.

“There you are. You good?”

Tinker gives him a hesitant and shaky nod that’s not really convincing. Kai watches as the kid blinks a few times and a clearly well-practiced mask slips into place, hiding the raw emotions he just witnessed. He struggles to push himself into a sitting position, and Kai helps him sit up.

“What the fuck was that?” Kai asks when he seems more lucid.

“Uh, it’s—well, it’s a warning. Miguel must be l-looking for me. I-I have to get back to him, like now,” he says, a little panicked.

He struggles to his feet before Kai can do anything to help. He has to stand quickly himself to steady the villain before he crashes to the floor again. His steps are clumsy and unsteady, but urgent as he looks around, trying to find his way back to Miguel.

Kai hurries after him, even more confused and alarmed now.

“Wait, what the fuck do you mean ‘a warning’? Was that not your powers?”

Tinker shakes his head, pulling the collar of his shirt to the side wordlessly to expose a thin metal ring around his neck. Like a collar.

“Again, and I cannot stress this enough, what the fuck?” Kai exclaims.

The villain shakes his head, dismissing Kai’s question, and suddenly lets out a very relieved sigh when he peaks around the corner.

“Miguel! I’m right here!”

Kai follows after the villain, now jogging towards Toro.

Miguel does not look happy. “Get the fuck over here, Jasper. Where the hell did you go?”

Jasper? Kai thinks. It’s strange to think of the villain as anything other than his villain moniker.

Jasper slows slightly, nerves returning to his shaking frame. “I-I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, I was sick and, and then, uh,” he breaks off, looking back pleadingly at Kai for support.

Kai’s really not sure why he opens his mouth. But he does.

“Yeah, I, uh, held him up. That’s my bad.” It wasn’t technically a lie. He fixes his gaze on the team leader, “Um, he’s on your team, Miguel?” he asks.

“We’re keeping an eye on him.”

Kai could swear he sees Jasper deflate a little out of the corner of his eye.

“You’re getting ready to hear about it. Why don’t you head in to sit with your team, Kai? We’ve gotta go get Tinker here set up,” Miguel says, stiffly, grabbing Jasper’s arm tightly and starting to tug him away.

Jasper looks back at him once more, gratefulness and something else hard to read, something maybe like resigned fear, swirling in his eyes.

Kai watches the pair go, Miguel pulling Jasper close by the collar of his shirt as he drags him down the hall, whispering something sharp and terse in his ear. The villain tenses, stiff but yet still pliant in Miguel’s grip.

Kai sighs to himself.

What the fuck.

~~~

Grumpy caretaker is grumpy! Not sure when or how that happened because I really didn’t plan on him being grumpy he just kinda manifested that way lmao. He a little confused but he’ll get the spirit I promise. Elijah might have to bully him into it a little bit tho.

tags!! hello again!! I love you!! I hope this actually works this time!! lmk if you wanna be added or removed anytime :)

@whumpsday @sergeant-jasper @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @crystalrose141 @aloafofbreadwithanxiety

@paingoes @elizaisnotokay @quaggasus @defire @tonystark604

@writereleaserepeat @whump-queen @clickerflight @gliittergelpens @kawaii-cakes

@whump-in-a-million @scoundrelwithboba

[whumper-whimsy]

drugged ex-prince whumpee being used as an example/trophy at the parties that Whumper— who had recently overthrown the king— throws...

[thewhumpcaretaker]

🖤 Protective Caretaker Trying to Hold Back 🖤

Maybe Caretaker doesn’t know whumpee that well, or they have a formal working relationship with strict standards. Maybe whumpee is an ex pr an enemy or really dislikes them for some reason. But for one reason or another, Caretaker is the last person whumpee would turn to for help.

Yet Caretaker can SEE that something’s wrong, and it’s driving them insane with worry. They can’t eat. They can’t sleep. They’re pacing around in protective fury. But they have to play it cool.

Caretaker trying to keep a straight face while talking to whumpee and not show pity. The whole time, their fists are clenched in sympathetic rage, nails biting into their palms.

Does whumpee notice? Maybe they react with annoyance at Caretaker’s concern, confirming that it’s not their place. Or maybe they seem to want to connect, but stop themselves with a muttered, “Forget it, I shouldn’t be talking to you about this.”

Caretaker talking to whumpee’s friends/teammates and trying desperately not to ask how they’re doing.

Caretaker noticing a bruise or a strange, dead look in whumpee’s eyes, or even just whumpee being absent. They can’t think about anything else for the rest of the day.

In the mirror: “It’s none of my business, it’s none of my business, it’s none of my business…”

Caretaker encountering Whumper and trying not to attack on sight.

After a tense conversation with Whumper and/or whumpee in which they all pretend nothing is wrong, Caretaker goes on the other room and starting vomiting, crying, screaming into a pillow, etc.

“Oh yeah, didn’t you hear?” And they tell Caretaker something terrible that happened to whumpee. “I’m sure they’re fine though. Wait, why are you shaking?”

The day after Caretaker learns what happened in full, their room is trashed. They’ve torn apart everything they could get their hands on in an effort to quell the vengeful, protective anger. But it wasn’t enough. The weapons are gone, and Caretaker is nowhere to be found.

[whump-or-whatever]

Defiant whumpee who copes with (dark) humour dialogue

• • •

Whumpee: *standing in line for the teller at the bank*

Whumper: *walks in wearing a ski mask and waving a gun* “This is a robbery!”

Whumpee: *very matter-o-factly* “Actually, sir, this is a bank.”

• • •

Whumpee: *being held at gun point as hostage*

Whumper: “I’ll do it! I’ll shoot them!”

Whumpee: “do it, no balls”

• • •

Whumpee: *in captivity, being interrogated*

Whumper: “If you don’t tell me what I want to know, you’ll get the whip again”

Whumpee: *eyes wide* “You can’t! My cellmate and I were using the grid to play connect 4 and I was winning!”

• • •

Whumper: *throws a wet rag at whumpee after torturing them* “Clean yourself up.”

Whumpee: *gasps, whispers* “Master has given Dobby a cloth.”

• • •

Whumper: “I’m going to enjoy torturing you until you scream. I can’t wait to see you broken and hear you begging me for mercy.”

Whumpee: “Seems to me like you’ve got some deep-seated emotional issues. Have you considered seeking professional help?”

• • •

Whumper: *walks in later than usual*

Whumpee: “You know, if the teacher is 15 minutes late to class you’re free to go. I think the same rule should apply here.”

• • •

Whumper: *laughs evilly at whumpee’s pain*

Whumpee: *mocks their laughter*

• • •

Whumper: “Nobody is ever going to come for you.”

Whumpee: “I bet that’s what your ex said when they dumped you.”

• • •

Whumpee: *is given plain bread to eat*

Whumpee: “Would it kill y’all to invest in some peanut butter? Mayonnaise? Anything?”

• • •

Whumper: “You’re worthless. Nobody loves you and nobody ever will.”

Whumpee: “In other news, water is wet.”

• • •

Whumper: “You look so nice covered in your own blood.”

Whumpee: “I bet I’d look even better covered in yours. Let’s try and see.”

• • •

Whumpee: *being moved with other prisoners, singing quietly* “They’re taking the hobbits to Isengard.”

Other prisoners: *chanting softly* “To Isengard, to Isengard.”

Whumper: *shakes their head incredulously*

• • •

Whumper: “I will find you.”

Whumpee: “Oh, wait! I know this one! And when you do, you’ll kill me, right?”

• • •

Whumper: “Tell me what I want to know!”

Whumpee: *sing-songy* “Gimme gimme never gets, don’t you know your manners yet?”

• • •

Whumper: *goes to stab whumpee*

Whumpee: *dodges and grabs the knife from whumper*

Whumpee: “That’s what I like to call a pro gamer move.”

• • •

Feel free to add your own!

[kabie-whump]

Hi! I started following you recently and I LOVE your writing!!! May I make a request? I'd love to see your take on a yandere vampire whumper keeping a darling human whumpee in captivity. Maybe they see Whumpee as both a bloodbag and a companion/pet?

Only if you want to!!

Thanks so much! I'm sorry this took so long but I finally found time to come back to this! All hail spring break!

Content: hypnosis, ex-vampire hunter whumpee, pet/bloodbag whumpee, intimate whumper, vampire whumper, memory loss, gaslighting

⛧°｡⋆༺♱༻⋆｡°⛧

"Is there someone outside?"

Surprised, Whumper glances down at Whumpee, who blinks groggily as they wake. They usually stay out for longer after Whumper feeds on them. Maybe the noise woke them.

Whumper runs their fingers through Whumpee's hair. "Yes, darling. Someone's trying to take you away from me again. But don't worry - my hounds are taking care of it."

There's a distant, muffled scream. Whumpee flinches, their eyes going wide as they sit up. They'd left a dark patch of drool in the fabric of Whumper's pants, but Whumper doesn't mind at all.

"Wait... I know that voice. Who's out there?"

Whumper acts quickly, grabbing Whumpee's face and turning them to force eye contact. They can't let their most treasured companion remember that those humans used to be their friends; that Whumpee used to be a vampire hunter along with them.

"No one important," Whumper insists, pouring a sprinkle of magic into their words. "They're bad people. They want to take you away and hurt you."

It's always so cute to watch the effects of the hypnosis weigh Whumpee down, relaxing their anxious mind. Their pupils dilate until the color of Whumpee's eyes shows in only barely visible rings. Their breathing slows down. Their shoulders slump.

"'Kay," Whumpee whispers. "Sorry. I... got confused."

Whumper presses a kiss to their forehead. "It's alright, pet. I'll take care of everything. No need to worry. No need to even think."

Whumpee nods sleepily, allowing Whumper to pick up their wrist and examine the fresh bite mark. It's already scabbing over nicely. Whumper doesn't like biting their wrists, but their neck is so covered in marks now that they'll have to wait for some of those bites to heal before they can make more.

"Does it hurt?" Whumper asks as they kiss right next to the wound.

Whumpee shrugs, then nods. "A little," they admit. "I'm dizzy."

"Aw, I'm so sorry. You know I hate having to hurt you, don't you?"

"You'll die otherwise, right?" Whumpee asks hopefully. "You need me?"

"Yes. I need you to keep me alive, and you need me to keep you calm. You're much better off as my companion than you were before."

Whumpee's brow creases. "What was I before? I don't remember."

Whumper hums, pulling Whumpee into a gentle hug. "No one at all, dearest." Definitely not one of the city's most renouned vampire hunters, they think with a smirk. "No one at all."

⛧°｡⋆༺♱༻⋆｡°⛧

[promptsforyourwhumpfic]

The Grand A-Z List of Whump 1/3

This list contains ~290 items listed A to H

As always, I heavily encourage people to research topics thoroughly when writing as it is important to avoid stereotypes/misinformation. This list's intention is not to glorify/romanticise sensitive topics in any way.

This part one-of-three comprehensive lists of injuries, Illnesses and tropes - including those from the Whumptober 2023 trope vote!

All submissions are listed in italics, and those who wanted to be tagged will be included at the end. If you have any more submissions: please send them via DM/my ask box.

[I-Q] [R-Z] [NSFW List]

List below the cut:

#

"I don't need your help."

"I'm doing this to make you better"

"I'm fine, take care of them!"

“I’m Fine”

"Kill me instead"

"Let me in."

"Look at me."

"Should I know you?"

"Take me instead."

(No) Anaesthetic

A

A Good Ol' Sickfic

Abandoned

Abdominal Pain

Aching Wounds

Acne

Adrenaline Crash

Adrift (in space/at sea)

Agoraphobia

Airsickness

Alien abduction

Allergies

Alopecia

Ambulance Ride

Ambush

Amnesia/memory loss

Amputations

Anaemia

Anesthesia

Angina (Heart condition that causes pain)

Animal Attack/Bite

Ankle Sprain

Anthrax

Anxiety/Anxiety attack(s)

Aphasia

Appendicitis

Arrested

Arthritis

Asking for help

Asphyxiation

Assumed Dead

Asthma/Asthma Attack

Auctions

Autoimmune disease

Avalanches

B

Backache

Bad Caretakers

Bandaged Head

Banished

Barbed Wire

Bear trap

Beaten up by ex-friends

Beaten with blunt object (i.e, bat or pipe)

Beatings

Bedrest

Bedside Vigil/Hospital Vigil

Begging

Betrayed by close friend/team/family

Bites (Animal, Bug, Human….)

Biting

Black Eye

Blackmail

Bleeding Out

Bleeding Through

Bandages

Blindfolded

Blindness (this could be temporary or permanent)

Blisters

Blood Loss

Blood Poisoning

Bloodied Knuckles

Bloodstains/blood trail

Bloody handprints

Bloody nose

Blunt force trauma

Blurred vision

Body modification

Body Sharing

Body Switching

Bounty on their head

Brain Damage

Brainwashing

Breakdowns

Breathless

Bridal Carry

Broken Bones (Ribs, Arm, Leg)

Broken Nose

Broken Promises

Bronchitis

Bruises

Building Collapse

Bullet Removal

Bumpy roads jarring injuries

Buried Alive

Burning Building

Burns/Scalding

Busted kneecap

C

Cancer

Caning

Capgras syndrome/delusion (belief that someone close to/important to the person has been replaced by an imposter)

Capsulitis

Captivity

Captured

Car chases (and maybe a car crash)

Carbon monoxide poisoning

Cardiac Arrest

Caretaker has to “play nice” with whumper.

Caretaker has to hurt whumpee while undercover.

Caretaker sacrificing something dear to them to get something the whumpee needs.

Caretaker turned Whumpee

Caretaker-whumper who's a parental whumper. But their "love" is not real love. Or even right treatment.

Carsickness

Cataracts

Catatonia

Caught in a fire

Caught in an explosion

Cauterization

Cave In

Cavity

Celebrity whump (exploitation in the music/movie industries…)

Chaffing from ropes/handcuffs/shackles

Chained/Shackled

Checking for injuries

CHF - congestive heart failure

Chicken Pox

Chills

Chloroform

Choking

Chronic pain

Claustrophobia

Cleaning wounds alone

Cold/Flu,

Collapsed Lung

Collapsing (into someone’s arms is usually nice, bonus points for cradling their head as they lower the whumpee to the floor)

Collapsing after they win

Collapsing/Fainting/Passing Out

Collars

Coma

Comfort after a nightmare

Common cold

Completely betrayed by their own team

Complications

Concussion

Confusion

Constipation

Constricted Airways

COPD - Chronic obstructive pulmonary disease makes breathing increasingly more difficult.

Corporal Punishment

Corset too tight and won’t unbutton

Coughing

Coughing Up Blood

CPR

Cramps

Crikes (intubation through neck)

Crush injury

Crying

Cuddle pile

Curses

Cuts/Grazes

Cutting off hair (more of an emotional hurt)

Cyanide poisoning

D

Damaged Larynx/Vocal Cords

De-aging

Deathbed Confessions (don’t have to actually die and stay dead, just the threat of dying)

Defeat

Defenestration (throwing out a window)

Dehydration

Deja Vu

Delirium (bonus points for this being drug/ fever induced)

Deluded whumper/thinking they’re helping the whumpee

Dengue Fever

Denial

Depression

Dermatitis

Diabetes (type 1 and 2)

Diarrhea

Diseases ('mystery' diseases are the best kind)

Dislocations

Disorientation

Disowned by Family

Displaced hip

Dissociation

Distress call

Dizziness

Dragged Away

Dream sequence

Driving to the hospital with a whumpee slumped barely-conscious in the seat of the car

Drowning

Drunkenness

E

Ear Infection

Edema (swelling from build up of fluid)

EKG

Electrical Burns

Electrical shock

Electrocution

Emergency field surgery

Emergency Surgery

Emotional angst

Emotional manipulation

Endometriosis

Enemy to Caretaker

Energy Drain

Environmental whump

ER

Execution

Exes reunited with one wanting a relationship and the other just wanting friendship.

Exhaustion

Experimentation

Exposure

Extreme Weather

Eye injury

F

Facing Phobias

Failed Escape

Failure to thrive

Fainting

Fainting (but also fainting aftermath) / Fainting due to lack of sleep, food, or overworking fainting from exhaustion

Falling

Falling for Caretaker/Whumpee/Whumper

Falling Through Ice

Fatigue/Exhaustion

Fever

Fibromyalgia (Chronic Pain)

Field medicine

Fighting (while injured)

Financial difficulty faced + how whumper might take advantage of that + how caretaker handles everything (well/badly)

Finding your loved one dead without explanation but thinking they’re still alive.

Fireman's carry

Flare ups

Flashbacks

Flinching away

Flu

Food Poisoning

Forced to... (Break out, Choose, Hurt, Kneel, Scream, Watch)

Forehead kisses

Forgotten by team

Foul-tasting medicine

Found family

Found unconscious

Fracture (Arm, Hyoid bone etc)

Freezing / cold whump

Friendly Fire

Frostbite

G

Gagged/Muzzled

Gangrene infection

Gaslighting

Gas (noxious, poisonous etc)

Gastritis

Glass (shards, debris etc)

Grief

Gunshot Wound

H

Hair Pulling/Cutting/Matting/Stroking

Hallucinations

Hanahaki

Handcuffs

Handgag

Hard ground

Haunted

Hay Fever

Head injuries/concussion

Head trauma

Headache/Migraine

Heart Palpitations

Heartburn

Heat Exhaustion

Heatstroke

Heavy metal poisoning

Held at gunpoint/knifepoint/weapon point

Hematohidrosis (Sweating blood)

Hemophilia/Hematophilia (Blood unable to clot)

Haemothorax

Hernia

Hidden Illness/Injury/Scar/Medical Issues

Hiding

High Blood Pressure

High Fever (like dangerously high)

High Pain Tolerence

Hit by a car

Home Sickness

Hospital Codes

Hostage Situation

House burnt down

Huddling for Warmth

Human Shield

Human Weapon

Hunger

Hungover

Hunted for Sport

Hurt no comfort

Hyperalgesia,

Hypermobility

Hyperventilating

Hypo/Hyperthermia

Hypo/Hyperthyroidism

Hypoglycemia

Hypotension/ Hypertension

Hypoxia

TAG LIST: Thank you very much to the following people for submitting ideas! (I apologise if some tags did not work, I'm not sure why tumblrs not letting me tag you!)

@I-eat-worlds | @greygullhaven | @letsgowhump | @cyberwhumper @firapolemos05 | @originaldeerhottub | @whumpilicious | @drawing-dinos82 | @carenrose | @stellarinuscronicles | @gottheseasonalblues | @marvelflame2010 | @sowhumpful | @avamcu | @courtneygacha | @lordofthewhumps | @autismmydearwatson | @kuddelmuddell | @the-most-handsome-ginger | @whirls-and-swirls | @painsandconfusion