#i wrote whump

[choasuqeen]

Nia tried to breathe. It was dark. Why was it dark? There was something around her eyes. Shoot. She reaches up to take it off, and hears that voice again. “Leave it on!”

“Why?!” she reaches up to pull it off, and hits the wall. Her head cracks against it and she grunts. 

“Cause I said to.”

She tried to breathe again. Where were her friends? She called out. “Trixi?” No answer. 

“Arrio?” Nothing.

 “Matt?” Silence

“Christine? Maddox? Strike Peter Dick Raoul?” Still nothing. Where was she what was happening? “WHERE ARE MY FRIENDS?” Silence again, even the voice was gone.

She was alone then? Left in the dark and quiet? She reached up again, and hit another wall. She couldn’t breathe where were her friends where was she where was she. 

She sat down and tapped against the floor, messages to anyone listening. “Please” she tapped. “Please let me out.”

Still tapping, she stood up. If she couldn’t see she could feel right? Is this how Matt felt all the time? She couldn’t see. She stumbled forward, ears tuned to anything but there was nothing there wa nothing. Walls, it was a small room then. Feeling more, there was no door. She was trapped she was stuck. Blind. She sobbed then, collapsing to the floor.

[bigfootsboytoy]

Steve ends up heartbroken, lonely and depressed after season 2. Nancy called him bullshit, even after he ditched all his old friends for her. Billy Hargrove took his spot at the top of the food chain. He can have it, Steve doesn't really want it anymore. But Steve does want to find some sort of connection. Someone to have in his life who isn't an 11 year old kid he barely knows. He tries to go on a date one night, take a nice-seeming girl to a party. He wants to find connection, to kill the loneliness that's been building for months, but just as he's feeling kind of good about things, his date ditches him.

So. He decides to drink his feelings. He gets majorly fucked up, and ends up laying on the ground in the backyard, contemplating how much life seems to hate him.

Only to literally get tripped over by Eddie Munson, who was at this party selling pot and is very confused as to why Steve Harrington is alone on the ground with a bottle of vodka clenched in one hand.

Eddie ends up chatting a little with Steve, nothing substantial, but enough to know that Steve is very very drunk, and also very very sad.

He asks if Steve wants to go back to the party, and Steve staunchly refuses. He doesn't want to be around a bunch of annoyingly happy people.

He asks if Steve needs a ride home, and Steve just kind of shrugs. His parents just left for another trip, so home is kind of depressing right now too. But he doesn't exactly have any other friends he can stay with so. Home it'll have to be.

Only Eddie can *tell* he doesn't really want to go home, though he has no idea why Steve wouldn't want to return to his veritable mansion after a shitty night. The reason doesn't matter much. He offers to let Steve crash at his place. Steve can take the couch, or hell he can stay in Eddie's room if he doesn't mind sharing, that way he wouldn't risk being woken up when Wayne comes home that morning.

And well, Steve agrees. Can't think of any reason not too. Munson has been nice so far, he's got a good easy-going energy that Steve likes. Why not stay the night.

By the time they get to Eddie's, Steve is *slightly* more sober. Not much, but he's slurring his words a little less, and he can walk with only a little help.

Eddie grabs them each a little plate of leftovers, because he has no idea if Steve's eaten at all. It's quiet while they eat, Eddie doesn't push Steve to talk, and Steve isn't sure what to say. Eventually Eddie sets the plates aside and give Steve an easy grin.

"So, do you want the couch, or are you crashing with me?"

Steve thinks about it for a while. He hasn't shared a bed with a guy-friend since he was a kid, and he's heard rumors about Eddie, whispers in the hall about the way he looks at other guys. But...Steve can't really bring himself to care. He's tired, and he really doesn't want to be alone.

"I don't mind sharing."

Eddie sets them both up in his room, letting Steve choose which side of the bed he wants, and they both settle in. There's a respectable distance between the two of them, and Eddie says a quick goodnight to Steve, figures they won't talk and just go right to bed.

Except Steve isn't sober, and he really isn't in a good headspace, so he can't stop himself from blurting things out into the quiet of the dark room.

"Are you really gay?"

Eddie stiffens next to him, he can feel it, he can hear the way that the other boys breath cuts off and he seems to stop breathing all-together.

"It's okay if you are, I'm not going to be an asshole about it, I'm trying not to be that guy anymore. I guess I was just curious."

It's quiet for another beat before Eddie seems to loosen just a little. He starts breathing again at least.

"Yeah I uh- I am. Gay. And if that's weird the couch is still open, I can-"

"It's not weird."

"Okay."

Steve let's himself mull over this confirmation, and then his mouth starts moving again, without his permission.

"Is it lonely? Cause I mean, it's got to be hard to date in Hawkins. People here are shitty. Unless you've got like, a secret boyfriend or something."

"No...no secret boyfriend. It does get a little lonely sometimes. I'm lucky though, I've got my uncle, and my friends are pretty great. That's enough most days."

"What do you do when it's not enough?"

"Hmmm?"

"When your uncle and friends aren't enough, what do you do? To try and...make it better?"

Eddie is quiet again for a long stretch before he shrugs.

"I try to focus on something else. I'll play my guitar or work on a new campaign, read a book. Something to take my mind off it."

"Oh."

Now Steve is the one who seems tense, his jaw is tight and he's got his arms wrapped around himself. His next words come out as a whisper, but Eddie manages to catch them.

"I don't know how to do any of that."

He sounds almost choked, and Eddie is caught off guard. He's never seen Steve Harrington as anything other than solid, as happy. He's the king, after all. He's supposed to be all smiles and great hair. Only...Eddie's noticed that he hasn't hung out with his old friends lately, that he's eaten alone at lunch too many times to be anything other than strange.

"Steve...are you lonely?"

Eddie expects a denial, for Steve to laugh it off and tell Eddie that he's perfectly fine and fulfilled. Or maybe he expects a shrug, a non-answer. What he doesn't expect is the gut-wrenching sob that seems to tear past the other boys lips.

He doesn't expect to turn and see Steve Harrington's face, a scant foot from his, shining with tears.

He panics a little at the sight.

"Fuck- I'm so sorry-"

"Don't be." Steve tries to wipe his eyes, to hide the tremble in his voice. "Not your fault there's something wrong with me."

"What do you mean?"

"It's like I'm broken man, like nobody can stand to be around me. Tommy and Carol hate me now, Nancy- hell even my own parents hate being at home with me for more than a week. It's like I'm repellent or something. Couldn't even get a date to stick around for a whole night."

And Eddie's pretty sure *he* might start crying now. He'd never have expected this much from Steve, all that sadness to come pouring out. It wouldn't have happened if Steve was completely sober. Without thinking, he reaches out.

Eddie puts a hand on Steve's shoulder and waits to see if the touch gets rejected, but Steve seems to lean into him, so he lets his hand linger.

"This probably won't help, but I don't think you're repellent. And that's coming from somebody who your whole group used to torture. I don't know much about you, but I kind of liked having you around tonight."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Steve gives him a tiny smile. His eyes are still wet with tears, and the smile doesn't come close to reaching them. He seems impossibly small here in Eddie's bed.

"I don't know man. I just wish-"

He cuts himself off, apparently deciding his words are too far, but Eddie urges him to keep talking.

"What do you wish Steve?"

"I just wish that... there was somebody out there I could have a future with. Somebody who actually loved me, you know?"

It might be the saddest thing Eddie's ever heard, and he blames that fact for what he does next.

He takes his hand off Steve's shoulders and instead hauls Steve closer to him, fitting the other boy against his chest and wrapping his arms around him. It's a move that might get him decked, but he doesn't think it will. And he'll be damned if he doesn't hug Steve right that second.

He doesn't get hit. Steve tenses for a second, but it's just that one instant before he's melting into the embrace.

Eddie feels more tears falling against his shirt, and he couldn't care less. He keeps Steve close, let's him cry into his chest, runs a hand through that famous mop of hair.

He isn't sure how long it takes for Steve to calm down, but eventually he does. His breathing evens out, and he shivers a little before speaking.

"Thanks man."

And Eddie takes another leap of faith.

"I could be that person, you know."

"What?"

"I mean. You know Im... not straight. It may not be exactly what you're wanting but. I think I could picture a future with you. If you want to, just for tonight...I could be that someone who loves you."

Steve looks at Eddie, like he's a puzzle that he needs to solve, before a other shiver seems to wrack his body.

"Just for tonight?"

It comes out as a whisper, but Eddie hears it all the same.

"Yeah. For tonight Steve."

"I think...I think I'd like that."

Eddie gives him the sweetest smile he can muster, and nods.

"Alright sweetheart."

Eddie isn't exactly sure what it means, to love Steve for the night. After all, Steve is straight. He figures it doesn't matter much though, it's only for a night.

He keeps a hold on Steve, let's him get comfortable tucked against Eddie, and he does what feels natural. He runs a hand up and down Steve's spine, traces shapes into the soft fabric of his shirt. He tangles their legs together, and in a moment of insane bravery he presses a kiss to the top of Steve's head.

He's met with a sigh, full of relief, and figures he's on the right track.

"Just close your eyes Stevie, I've got you."

"Can you tell me about it?"

"Hmmm?"

"The future. You said you could see one. Can you tell me?"

And he asks so carefully, he sounds almost afraid, Eddie can't say no to that.

"Do you want the fantasy future, or the realistic future?"

"The real one."

"Alright then. Well, if I'm not going to be a rich and famous rockstar...I'll probably graduate and get a job somewhere in town. A real job, maybe working on cars or something. I'm good with cars. You'd come over all the time, have dinners with me and with Wayne. You'd have to meet Wayne. And we'd have more nights like this, sleeping close."

Steve let's out a pleased sounding hum, and shifts his face so it's buried even closer in Eddie's neck. He can feel Steve's breath on him.

"We could save up money and get a little place together, somewhere outside Hawkins. I have to stay kind of close, for my uncle, but maybe Indy?"

Steve nods, mutters something about staying close 'just in case'. He sounds like he might fall asleep, so Eddie keeps going.

"We could get an apartment, nothing too fancy. We would get two rooms, so nobody gets suspicious, but we would share a bed most nights. I'd play with my band on weekends, just for fun, and you'd join some little local sports team. I'd make sure to schedule DND nights so that I never miss a single game, even though I don't understand a damn thing about sports. We would come home for holidays, but most of the time it would just be us. I'd take good care of you, make sure you never go more than a few hours without me telling you I love you. I'll show up wherever you're working just to give you a hug and a kiss, and make sure you don't forget it. And I'll annoy the hell out of, but you won't mind too much, because I'll make you happy too."

Eddie can think of more. He can think about so many things. How he could give Steve one of his rings, even if they couldn't legally get married, even if Steve would never want that. Just as another reminder that he's loved. They could take trips together and go out to parties where Steve will never have to worry about getting ditched. Eddie doesn't do things halfway, and he has a hell of an imagination. He could picture them growing old together, if he tried, if he let himself. But this is just for tonight, so he doesn't. Instead he runs a hand through Steve's hair again, and listens to his quiet breathing. He thinks he may have fallen asleep, but he's wrong.

"That sounds nice."

It comes out muffled, spoken into Eddie's neck, but he manages to make it out, and he let's the vibration of it sink into his skin.

*It's only for tonight.*

He has to remind himself, because Steve is just feeling lonely. He doesn't want that future with Eddie, he just wants to feel loved.

But even if it's just pretend, just to help Steve for a few hours, he's okay with that.

Steve may think he's broken, but Eddie thinks he would be easy to love for a long time. Loving him for one night is nothing. He doesn't even have to try.

Tomorrow Steve will wake up sober, and he'll thank Eddie for letting him stay over, and they won't talk about it. Eddie will drive Steve back to his car in silence, and they'll say their goodbyes. They may not talk ever again, they never had before.

But for tonight? Eddie Munson will love Steve Harrington, and Steve? He'll let himself be loved, let himself beleive it. And he'll love Eddie right back.

Just for one night.

And if Steve ever needs it again? Eddie will love him for another night. And Steve will give that love right back. He's got plenty to spare, after all. And there's far worse people he could share it with.

[paingoes]

whumper pushing whumpee to the ground, ordering them to get back up, and kicking them back down each time they try. repeat as many times as you like. especially w whumper getting more snippy each time.

“i said get up�� while they’re making it physically impossible

physically and mentally exhausting them in addition to hurting them. forcing whumpee to participate in their own abuse.

[shywhumpauthor]

A Whumper with fire powers branding their Whumpee not just with their name or initials, but their handprints.

Two palms scarred against either side of Whumpee’s neck, fingers wrapping around their throat in a collar that can never be removed. Hands on their sides, just below their broken ribs, a touch that will never relent. Fingers wrapped around their wrists in shackles that won’t be unlocked. A handprint against their face, cupping their cheek that had already suffered so many punches. The small of their back. A single hand just between their shoulder blades. Dragging down their thighs.

Just. Branded handprints.

[necrotic-nephilim]

au - tim sneaking out of jason's room one night at the manor and accidentally locking eyes with dick who is sneaking out of bruce's room at the exact same time, breakfast is very awkward the next morning

(i did think of having it be jason instead of tim but honestly jason has 0 shame and even less issue outing himself if it means fucking with bruce and, to a lesser extent, dick)

i'm cackling I love these types of things so much. they're so silly. sometimes we deserve mindless crack for these ships. have a *very* low effort ficlet bc this just makes me snort, enjoy <3

Dick closed Bruce's door as quietly as he could. Usually, he didn't have to sneak around when he slept with Bruce. But the temporary room Bruce had given Jason in the manor was just down the hall, and Dick didn't feel like looking Jason in the eye if he walked out of Bruce's bedroom in the morning at the wrong time.

Just because he was pretty sure Jason knew, didn't mean he needed confirmation and confrontation.

Dick had almost caved to staying in bed with Bruce when Bruce tried to pull him back down, but he kept some level of wits about him, prying Bruce's arm off of him and giving him a final kiss on the cheek before heading for the door.

The one thing Dick did allow himself, though, was wearing one of Bruce's shirts instead of his own. It was a size too large on him but smelled safe and comforting. Dick breathed a quiet sigh of relief when the door latched silently. He let go of the handle, turning around to creep off to his own bedroom in another wing.

And found himself staring at another figure.

With all of the lights off and only faint moonlight streaming through the windows, Dick couldn't tell who it was, at first. His reaction was embarrassing no matter who it was, jumping nearly a foot backward and clutching a hand over his chest.

He was a goddamn vigilante. This was just embarrassing.

The other person wasn't nearly as shocked as Dick, but they stood perfectly still, staring with wide eyes that faintly reflected what little light illuminated their face. Dick squinted, leaning forward to see who it was.

"Tim?" Dick hissed, trying to keep his voice to a whisper. Bruce had fallen asleep and if Dick woke him up now, he was never going to get the stubborn bastard back to bed.

Tim, still looking like a deer in headlights, just blinked at Dick.

"What are you doing up this late?" Dick asked. They'd all agreed to take tonight's patrol off, letting Babs, Helena, Dinah, and Zinda handle it in exchange for tackling the massive human trafficking ring in the morning with fresh eyes and cleared heads. The job was the only thing that had gotten Jason to agree to work with them in the first place. Bruce barely managed to strong-arm Jason into sleeping in the manor, with a decent amount of guilting from Alfred.

Jason, who was in the room only a few feet away from Dick. The room that Tim's hand was resting on the doorknob of.

"That's Jason's room," Dick said slowly.

Tim just nodded. "I know." He wasn't whispering like Dick was, but his tone remained impossible to read.

He just saw Dick walk out of Bruce's room. Had he put it together? It was Tim, after all. if he hadn't yet, Dick assumed he only had a couple minutes before it dawned on Tim.

"What were you doing in Jason's room?" Dick frowned. If he focused on Tim, it could keep the focus off of him for as long as possible. Dick tried to ignore how fast his heart was beating.

Tim's expression was hard to make out in the dark. "We were talking about the case." Still, his tone remained entirely neutral.

Too neutral, for Tim.

"At two am?"

"Well, what were you doing?" Tim huffed slightly when he said it, folding his arms over his chest.

He was shirtless, Dick just realized.

Shirtless and coming out of Jason's room.

"I was-" Dick stumbled over his words, choking as he tried to come up with an alibi. "We were talking about the-"

"I already used that excuse, pick your own," Tim deadpanned. Dick was pretty sure he also rolled his eyes. "I've known about you and Bruce for years, you know. You don't have to pretend."

The noise that came out of Dick's throat was almost as mortifying as the realization that not only did Jason likely know, but so did Tim.

"It... okay it has not been years," Dick's face was hot and he was glad it was too dark for Tim to see his blush. "I mean- it's been a while but not years-"

"Whatever you say." Tim shrugged, sounding unconvinced. "There have been feelings between you two for years, close enough for me."

If Dick died, right here, in this hallway in front of Bruce's door, he hoped the cause of death would be put down as homicide instead of natural causes. Because every word from Tim's mouth made another piece of Dick die inside, just a little.

"It's none of your business either way." Dick tried to stand up straight to sound more in control of the situation, clearing his throat.

"Trust me, I don't want it to be my business."

Dick would've laughed, if this was happening to anyone but him.

"What about... you and Jason?" Dick asked carefully.

Tim shifted on his feet. "What about it? I told you, we were talking about the case."

"Right." It was Dick's turn to roll his eyes. "In his bedroom, at two am, without your shirt?"

Tim stared at Dick for a long, torturous moment. A moment that made Dick agree with Tim, about not wanting to know any sordid details.

"I'm going to bed," Tim said suddenly, turning away from Dick. "Goodnight."

Dick had a thousand more questions he wanted to ask. How Tim and Jason even got together, when it happened. Last Dick knew, they could barely stand to be in the same room.

But Tim was walking away at an alarmingly brisk pace and Dick just sighed. He was too tired and mortified about his own secrets to chase Tim down for an impromptu interrogation that would just end up embarrassing them both more.

Maybe it was best for Dick's sanity if he didn't know the specifics.

Dick didn't consider how awkward it would be until he was standing in the kitchen, staring at Jason bent over a cup of coffee.

Did Jason know Dick knew? It didn't seem like he did, but he had always had a good poker face.

When Tim ambled into the kitchen and grabbed overnight oats from the fridge, he didn't even look at Dick. He seemed to be pointedly avoiding it, sitting as far away from Dick as he could at the oversized dining room table.

All while Dick couldn't seem to stop staring.

"Your cereal is going to get soggy," Jason muttered, and it took Dick a moment to realize Jason was talking to him. "At least eat it before trying to explode my head with your mind, or whatever your staring problem is."

"I'm not-" Dick stuttered. he shut himself up with a mouthful of cereal when Cass gave him an odd look.

Would she be able to figure it out just from his body language?

Dick had never fully understood the lengths her ability to read people could go. he looked away from her and stared at a random spot on the table, trying to eat at a normal pace.

Bruce was the last to wander into the kitchen. He squeezed Dick's shoulder as he walked by, making Dick jump. It was an innocent enough touch that no one would question, but all Dick could think about was the brief look from Tim before he quickly averted his eyes again.

The silence around the table was going to eat Dick alive. He started eating cereal faster.

"Oh for fuck's sake," Jason broke the tension, throwing his head back and slamming an empty mug down onto the table. "Everyone knows you two are fucking, alright?" He gestured between Dick and Bruce. "Stop being so goddamn weird about it, you're acting like there's a bomb in the room."

Bruce choked on his coffee. "Jason." He tried to sound reprimanding, but his voice was a few octaves too high.

Dick threw his hands in the air. "I knew you knew about that, but I didn't know about you and Tim until last night so excuse me for feeling a little awkward."

"You didn't know about what?" Bruce nearly yelled, spinning around to face Jason.

"Damnit, Dick!" Tim groaned, putting his head in his hands.

Jason just scoffed, pointing a fork at Bruce. "Oh don't even give me that self-righteous bullshit-"

Their argument went back and forth while Tim just rubbed his temples, muttering to himself and glaring at Dick.

Worst of all, Dick was pretty sure Cass was giggling next to him under her covered mouth.

Dick just sighed and ducked his head, dutifully waiting for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

So much for his breakfast.

[another-whump-sideblog]

Unwilling/reluctant whumper needing to step away from a torture session to scream into a pillow or vomit, and then coming back and continuing as if nothing had happened

[finemealcreates]

What Day Is It?

July 19: Forgetting an important date | offense

If Danny was a better planner, he would have been paying attention to the date. If Danny had been paying attention, he would have known what date it was. If his phone hadn’t been destroyed in the last fight, he would’ve gotten an alert to what day it was. 

Yet, none of those things happened. Danny hadn’t seen the date, hadn’t checked. Hadn’t thought to check. He’d been living at the tower for so long, he’d grown complacent, hadn’t thought about the fact that the seasons were changing. 

Hell, he hadn’t even really processed the fact that Garfield asked Robin what day it was. And got a response! Danny heard it out loud, and it hadn’t registered in his head. No, the fault is his own. He has no one to blame but himself. 

It just would have been better for it to click in his head what day it was not in the middle of a fight with Killer Moth. 

Kori ducked under one of the creatures that flew over her, hands glowing with her blasts as she shot to wound some of them. Danny was near her, releasing a cool breath to ice over their wings so they would fall. Garf was currently a gorilla smacking bunches of the down at a time. 

Robin threw his bird-a-rangs at the creatures, grappling all around the battlefield to get closer to Killer Moth and stop his device. Rachel was providing cover, using her powers to restrict multiple of the creatures before throwing them to the ground. Victor was tailing behind Robin, shooting any being that got too close, but aiming to help hack the device. 

That was the plan, anyway. 

None of the creatures had even put a scratch on Danny, not really. He was getting better at remembering to go incorporeal, letting any blow go through him than land. It was something he had told Robin he wanted to train more to do on instinct than not, and Robin had agreed. Robin will be proud of how much progress he’s made. 

The point is, none of the beings they were fighting had landed a hit on Danny, so why was pain suddenly coursing through him? 

It started with his left palm, causing him to hiss as the ice blast flickers before going out. The pain is sharp yet jolted, almost pulsing. It crawls up his arm, causing the muscles to spasm in the worst kind of way. He loses the ability to focus on flying once the pain spreads past his arm and begins to crawl through the rest of him. 

Hitting the ground so hard a crater forms doesn’t hurt as much as the pain he’s currently experiencing. Some of his muscles are locking, other muscles are jolting and spasming. He has no control of his body, teeth clenched and eyes closed. He can’t even curl in on himself, offer any comfort. 

Ringing in his ear, that’s all he can hear. The worst pain he’s felt in a while coursing through him. Is he seizing? He can’t tell if he’s seizing. Why is this happening? Why is he in so much pain? He hasn’t felt like this since–

A yell pushes through his teeth as he realizes what’s happening. What day it is. 

His Death Day. August 24. 

Fuck, fuck he knew it was coming. He’s always been so careful. Making sure he’s in the Far Frozen when this happens. Frostbite always knows how to soothe the pain. Hailwind, Frostbite’s coremate, always has a drink ready for him afterwards. 

Are they wondering where he is? Are they worried about him? Fuck, he was so stupid. So so stupid. 

Sounds, so many sounds are around him. But he feels like he’s underwater. He can’t understand what any of the sounds means, he can’t tell what’s happening. 

But he feels when someone grabs him, touches him. It burns, it burns so much. Please, please stop. Please don’t hurt him. He’s sorry, he didn’t mean to—

“Frostbite!” he manages to call out, his throat has a lump in it. “Frostbite please!” 

Is he crying? He wouldn’t be surprised if he was crying. He just wants his dad. He wants Frostbite. He wants to go home—

Coolness touches him, and he can finally breathe. 

“Dad?” Danny whimpers, the pain still too strong for him to manage to open his eyes. 

His father chirps at him, core rumbling. Danny relaxes into the hold, the pain still coursing through him. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize what day it was,” Danny whispers as he digs his face into the familiar fur. 

“Don’t apologize, frostling,” his dad soothes, pressing a soothing kiss onto his head. 

“Please make the pain go away,” Danny begs, hands clutching whatever fur he can. 

“I’ll do what I can,” his dad assures, his hands becoming a lot cooler as they rub Danny’s back. 

“What’s happening to him?” a semi-deep voice Danny should recognize demands, firm. 

“Thank you for taking care of my son, but I will be taking him now. He can explain when he wants to,” Frostbite replies to the voice, not answering. 

Good. Danny doesn’t want strangers to know what is happening to him. He feels so vulnerable, out in the open. He wants to be home. He wants to go home. 

“But—” the male goes to protest, but something stops him. 

“Leave it be, Robin. Phantom called for this being, called him dad. He’ll take care of him,” a more feminine, yet slightly monotone, voice speaks up. 

“Thank you,” Frostbite says softly, offering a smile. “You’ve all made my son your family and taken care of him. He’ll be safe, I promise.” 

“Home,” Danny groans out, feeling another strong course of electricity run through him. “Please, I want to go home, dad.” 

Frostbite softly shushes him, pushing his hair out of his face as he plants another kiss on his forehead. 

“We’re going, Hailwind has some hot coco brewing for whenever you’re up to it.” 

Danny forces a smile as he cracks his eyes open slightly. 

“Yes please,” Danny whimpers, vision blurry through all the tears. 

Frostbite chirps soothingly at Danny as a hand lets go of him. He feels his dad making a sweeping motion, hears the familiar sound of a portal. Danny barely feels the familiar shiver down his spine as Frostbite walks through it, feeling his body jolt against his will. 

He hears people whisper behind him as the portal closes, cutting their words off. 

💀📅

Danny comes to with a hot cup of coco in front of his face. 

He groans as he sits up properly to accept the cup, his muscles protesting and groaning. 

“Was it that time of year already?” Danny mumbles, hands curling around the cup. 

“Yes it was, young one,” his pa confirms, sitting on the bed next to him. 

Hailwind’s hand comes up and pushes his hair back. A soft kiss is placed on his forehead. Blissfully cold and chill. 

Danny feels himself relax as he takes a sip of the warm drink. 

“I don’t remember coming here,” Danny admits after he lowers the cup, fingers twitching slightly in anxiety. 

“Well,” his pa hesitates, right ear flicking slightly as he pushes his mouth into a thin line, “to be honest this year wasn’t like the other years.” 

Danny frowns as his brows furrow. 

“What do you mean?” Danny questions, taking another sip of the rich chocolate drink. 

He doesn’t know how Hailwind makes it taste so good, but it’s the best hot chocolate he’s ever had. Human world kinds don’t compare. 

“Frostbite had to come to retrieve you,” his pa admits, running his claws gently against Danny’s scalp. 

“I don’t remember that,” Danny replies, leaning into Hailwind’s hold. 

“You were in the middle of a fight. Or … you were?” his pa ponders, tilting his head slightly. “The fight seemed to be over by the time your dad got there.” 

Danny’s brows furrowed. A fight? If he was in a fight, does that mean—

“Did I start …” Danny trails off, biting his lower lip anxiously. 

“Your father and I were worried when you didn’t show up when you usually do,” his pa begins to explain, pulling Danny close against his side. “After it had been too long for us, Frostbite came after you.” 

“And he found me while I was around … my friends,” Danny breathes out, curling closer into his pa. 

“Yes,” his pa confirms, turning his head to press a kiss against Danny’s head. “You were on the ground, a crater had formed around you. He got there as soon as one of your friends tried to grab you.” 

Danny tucks his face into Hailwind’s shoulder, his own shoulders drawn up as much as he could. 

“Can’t imagine that went well,” Danny sighs, closing his eyes as he allows the soft fur to soothe him. 

“No, you started to scream and call for your dad,” his pa admits. 

Danny lets out a deep breath, handing Hailwind the cup. Only after he hears it clink on the end table does he climb more into his pa’s lap. 

“This is awful,” Danny says into Hailwind’s chest. “They’re going to have so many questions.” 

His pa hums, Danny feeling the movement on his face in the other’s chest. 

“You only have to answer what questions you’re comfortable answering,” his pa assures him, one hand still running gently against his scalp while the other rubs his back. 

“But if I don’t answer them they’re going to be so annoying about it,” Danny bemoans, turning his face so his ear is pressed against his pa’s chest. 

Hailwind chuckles gently, body shaking slightly with it. 

“That’s what happens when you join the Teen Titans,” his pa teases gently. 

Danny huffs out an annoyed breath. 

“I’m a teen, Pa. What team was I supposed to join? The Justice League?” Danny asks sarcastically. 

“Just saying,” Hailwind goes on, ignoring Danny’s sass, “you can’t expect a group of teenagers to be completely emotionally mature about something.” 

Danny huffs, knowing his pa has a point but not wanting to admit it. 

“Yeah yeah, whatever,” Danny mutters, turning his head to the other side. 

Focusing, he brings the cup of hot chocolate back to him and takes another sip. Still warm, even though it shouldn’t be. His pa is the best. 

“Thank you,” Danny says after he gulps down half of the cup. 

“Of course, Bear,” his pa replies, pressing another kiss on his head. “We’re always here for you, whenever and whatever you need.” 

Danny feels tears begin to gather in his eyes, and wipes at them. 

“I don’t deserve you,” Danny eventually says, a lump in his throat. 

“That’s the thing, frostling,” his pa starts, voice gently yet serious, “we’re family. You don’t have to deserve us. We don’t feel like we deserve you either.” 

Danny hums, a small smile tugging at his lips. 

“Will you help me figure out what I’m going to say to them?” Danny asks after he finishes his drink. 

“Of course, Bear, of course,” Hailwind tells him, a smile on his face. 

💀📅

Danny shakes himself slightly, trying to rid himself of the nerves he feels climbing their way through him. 

He’s ready, he practiced what he was going to say with his pa and dad. He discussed what boundaries he could set, and which ones he would, and what to say if they asked certain things that crossed a line. He was also reminded that worse comes to worse, he could come home. 

Though, his parents assured him that wouldn’t happen. It was clear that his team cares about him. 

But Danny’s not sure. 

Most of the team, sans Robin, has revealed their secret identity. Danny told them his first name is Danny, which isn’t untrue, but he hadn’t shared the whole truth. All they knew for sure was that he was a ghost boy who wanted to help. That was good enough for them. 

How are they going to react when he explains everything? Does he even have to? His parents told him all he had to share was what he was comfortable sharing. Theoretically he could just explain his Death Day, all ghosts have them. You don’t have to be a half-ghost to have a Death Day. 

But … but Danny doesn’t want to half explain. He wants to share all of himself with them. Because he trusts them. And part of him wants to see if they’ll accept all of him. He’s come to think of them like family, so he hopes they take the news well. 

With a final sigh and shake, he phases through into the common area. 

Everyone is gathered, Robin is pacing, Rachel is meditating, Garfield and Victor are playing video games, and Kori is floating near Robin while shooting him nervous glances. They all snap their heads towards him when he lets the invisibility fall away from him. 

All of them shout a form of his name as they rush over, Robin the first one to reach him. 

Robin’s eyes seem to scan over him, hands reaching up to physically check for any wounds. Kori and Rachel are on either side of Robin, doing their own checks. Garf transforms into a hawk and perches on Robin’s shoulder, Victor towering over all of them as his own eyes do a scan. 

“What happened? Are you alright?” Kori questions as Robin flips Danny around to check for any more injuries. 

“I’m fine,” Danny answers, letting them finish checking him to soothe their own nerves. 

“What happened?” Robin demands, turning him back around. 

Danny does his best to offer a soothing smile, but he fears it comes out as a bit of a grimace based on their reactions. 

“It was my own fault, I lost track of time,” Danny states, letting out a sigh as he rubs his arm nervously. 

“What does that even mean?” Garf questions, face scrunching up as much as it can in hawk form, wings rustling slightly. 

Danny lets out a big breath, steadying himself. 

“So, you know how I’m a ghost?” Danny asks, all of them nodding. “Well, ghosts who become ghosts through … death have a …” 

Danny pauses again, sighing as he runs his hand through his hair. His legs become a tail as he wraps it around himself for a sense of comfort. 

“This is a bit hard to explain, I’ve never had to explain it to the living before,” Danny explains. 

“You don’t have to explain if it’s too much for you,” Rachel assures. “We all have parts of us we don’t feel comfortable sharing.” 

“It’s not that,” Danny says. “I want to explain. I don’t want to keep any part of me hidden, not anymore.” 

“Take your time, man. We’re listening,” Victor promises. 

Danny offers him a smile as he releases another breath. 

“Ghosts who have died have what we call a Death Day,” Danny begins to explain, moving towards the couches and taking a seat. “Every year on your Death Day, you re-experience the thing that killed you.” 

He doesn’t look to see their reactions. He’s not sure what reaction he wants. None would be ideal. He doesn’t want sympathy, or to see the sadness in their eyes. It’s a part of his life, and he doesn’t want to have to hold their feelings about it along with his own. 

“Point is, August 27th is my Death Day. I forgot it was so close, and wasn’t paying attention to the date. I usually go to spend my Death Day with my folks. They always make the pain … less,” Danny explains, running a hand through his hair. 

“I’ll make sure to mark the date so that we don’t have something like this happen again,” Robin assures, surprising Danny slightly with how close he is. 

“Yeah dude! And we can make a care basket or something for you next year to take with you!” Garfield pipes up, taking the form of the cat as he rubs his body against Danny’s legs comfortingly. 

“On my planet, we would have a date to celebrate the dead, perhaps we could do that for you if you’d like,” Kori offers, a smile on her face. 

“I have some techniques that help with physical pain that could help you perhaps,” Rachel proposes.

“And I have some lotion I made that helps me during bad pain days,” Victor suggests. 

Danny feels his lips wobble and his eyes gather moisture. 

“You guys would do all that for me?” Danny asks. 

“Of course!” Kori exclaims. 

“You’re family, man,” Victor follows up with. 

“Can I … show you something else then?” Danny asks nervously. 

They all nod, backing up slightly to give him space. 

“I am a ghost, and my name is Danny Phantom, but …” Danny sighs as he closes his eyes, concentrating. 

He feels the familiar tingle course through him, like a toned down experience of the day prior, run through him as he transforms. 

“But I’m also a human. Danny Fenton,” Danny finishes, opening his eyes. 

His teammates look a varying degree of surprised. Even Robin looks a little shocked, though he covers it up better than the rest of them. 

“Wow,” Garfield mutters, eyes wide as he looks up at Danny. 

“I’m a … I’m a halfa,” Danny begins nervously explaining, hands twisting together. “At least, that’s what they call me in my home dimension. Half-ghost, half-human. We’re not very common. Most people die all the way, not just halfway.” 

Rachel nods, hand coming up to her chin as she seems to think. 

“I believe I’ve read about halfa’s in one of my tomes,” Rachel says thoughtfully. “There’s not a lot of knowledge about them due to their rarity.” 

“Wait, if you’re half-human, then how come your dad’s are yetis?” Victor asks, brows furrowed in confusion. 

Danny laughs a little at that as Kori elbows Victor. 

“You cannot ask someone about their parentage, Victor! It’s quite rude,” Kori hisses under her breath. 

“Honestly it was the first thing I thought you’d ask when I revealed myself,” Danny admits, smiling to show that he’s not offended. 

Victor smiles sheepishly anyway, offering an apology. 

“Frostbite and Hailwind took me in after some … unfortunate events in my past,” Danny explains, stomach clenching as he thinks about what happened. 

He wants to explain everything to them, but perhaps not everything everything. Some things still hurt too much to talk about.

Robin nods in understanding, offering a smile. 

“Thanks for explaining this to us, Danny. It takes a lot of guts to open yourself up to people,” Robin says, pulling Danny in for a hug. 

“We love you Danny,” Kori says, joining in on the hug. 

And, before he knows it, everyone else has joined. He’s surrounded by his team, nah, his family. They’re all hugging him, holding him, they accepted him. 

Danny smiles wide, hugging them all back. 

“I love you guys, too.”

[undercover-horn-blog]

Humorous forehead feeling that turns serious!!!

A is feeling B's forehead literally jokingly, to insinuate that B is being silly or incoherent or just wildly off base somehow. So A gives them a mock-concerned look and places their hand on B's forehead for just a moment.

Then: Hesitation. Confusion. The mock frown turning serious. "Wait, what the hell, B?"

And in that moment A realises that B is ACTUALLY running a temperature and hasn't said a word this entire time 🥰🥰🥰

[siren-of-agony]

Answers to "please stop"

No.

I can't.

I won't.

I don't want to.

I don't know how.

I will soon.

But then how will you learn?

We're almost done.

It's almost over.

Ask me again!

Oh well, if you're asking that politely…

Fine. For now.

Only once I've come up with something more fun.

Only once you've come up with something more fun.

Or what?

I know you can go a little bit longer.

You know I won't.

I love it when you beg.

I hate it when you beg.

I'm so bored by your begging.

Not until you're too weak to ask me to.

But I don't have anything better to do.

I wish I could.

Alright! See? All you had to do was ask nicely.

I'm not doing anything.

What, exactly?

Just once more, I promise!

Just once more, I promise! (🤞)

You're doing this to yourself.

You wanted this.

You want this.

You know you made me do this.

Are you ready to give me what I want, then?

I will once you give in.

What will you give me in return?

Why should I?

You know there is only one way to end this.

You know there is only one way this will end.

(Answers to "it hurts")

[whumper-whimsy]

god i love multiple whumpee situations where one whumpee is completely "trained" and eager and the second one HATES Whumper with all their heart

[stars-obsession-pit]

The Fenton parents + the heroes vs the GIW

Danny has been captured by the Ghost Investigation Ward, and his parents are on a warpath to get him back (this could be some time after a past reveal-gone-right or Danny’s ghost form could have been revealed just now with them stepping up to support him).

Unfortunately, the GIW aren’t pushovers. Sure, their agents poking around in Amity Park weren’t the most competent, but the organization as a whole is a lot more powerful.

Powerful enough that despite their best efforts, Jack and Maddie know they won’t be enough on their own (even with the help of Danny’s friends). They can raid the local bases, but the more fortified ones pose a far greater challenge.

Thus, they need to get external help. And, well, what are superheroes for if not saving people?

The GIW may be a government agency (at least in theory - could have it revealed that their evils were very much unsanctioned and hidden from the official side of things), but heroes have fought for getting legal rights for Metas before. All they have to do us convince them to extend that to include Ghost rights too.

So the Fentons contact the Batman / the Justice League / (your heroes of choice) to enlist their aid.

(If it’s the batfam, maybe there’s an additional connection of Danny being friends with one of Bruce’s kids online. This serves double duty by giving the Fentons a reason to reach out to Batman (the endorsement of Danny’s friend from Gotham) and getting another person who is personally connected to Danny and worried about his safety. Or for some bonding-in-captivity stuff, maybe it’s Jason and he was captured too…)

Now with allies, the raids can begin. They just have to hope they’re not too late to save Danny before he is killed for real…

[echoingalaxies]

cw: hospital/medical stuff mentions, unspecified illness or injury

“You wanna pick up some food on the way?” Caretaker asked, steering her car out of the parking garage and to the intersection.

Whumpee, sitting under a blanket on the passenger seat, watched the hospital disappear as they drove away on the mostly empty highway. He rubbed the pit of his elbow where a small bandage remained to stop the slight bleeding from a cannula.

It had been a long day. New bottles of medicine rattled in the pockets of his jacket when he shifted into a more comfortable position and leaned their head against the headrest. They had sat in the waiting room the whole evening before finally being admitted, and discharged only a couple of hours after. Caretaker hadn’t even tried to argue with the staff anymore. It always ended like this. Not enough beds and not enough people to take care of the ones lying on them.

Whumpee knew he was lucky. He knew he’d be safe going home with Caretaker. But it didn’t mean he didn’t keep dreaming about the day he’d be taken seriously. He’d receive proper care. Otherwise he’d just have to keep going back, over and over again. More pills, more bills, more wasted hours.

“Hello?”

“Oh, uh,” Whumpee blinked, realizing he hadn’t actually given Caretaker a response. “No, I… we should just head home. You’ve got work in the morning, and it’s already way past midnight.”

His stomach let out a loud rumbling sound just then, and Caretaker gave him a quiet look, which Whumpee pretended to not see. He could fix himself a bowl of yogurt at home. Caretaker needed sleep. She deserved it, after putting aside her own responsibilities just to stay with him again.

“What if I told you I already took tomorrow off?”

"What?" Whumpee turned to her, shaking his head. “Caretaker, no. You shouldn’t have.”

Caretaker shrugged. “It’s Friday, we get to have a head start for the weekend. Won’t that be fun?” Her smile faltered slightly and her voice shifted lower, to more serious. “The nurse said someone should keep an eye on you — and I wouldn’t want to leave you, anyway. You still need help.”

Whumpee knew that. He looked down, fidgeting with the hospital wristband. If he’d kept every one of those he’d got even during the past year, he could probably sew them together to make full sleeves for both arms. Money was already tight, as Caretaker worked to support the both of them, and Caretaker missing work because of Whumpee’s various appointments and frequent trips to the ER had had their effect on their income.

“Yes, but…” he said, the familiar tearing feeling of shame finding its place. “I thought we would call Friend or Sibling to stay with me while you’re at work. We have before.”

“Now we don’t have to.” Caretaker glanced at him, frowning. “Do you not… want me to stay?”

“Didn’t they say you can’t keep doing this anymore if you plan to keep your position?” Whumpee asked. “You like your job. I don’t want you to risk losing it because of me.”

“They will understand. I told them it is a family matter.”

Whumpee’s cheeks got hot and he moved his focus away from Caretaker again, watching out of the window instead. They were passing by shops, parks, and pubs, taking many turns in the little streets of their labyrinth of a hometown. Whumpee hadn’t even noticed they had left the main road, but he definitely recognised where Caretaker was heading.

“You didn’t have to lie because of me,” he mumbled, as Caretaker pulled into the parking lot of a local, 24-hour barbeque restaurant they both loved. “About it being a… a family thing.”

Caretaker turned to Whumpee, finally being able to give him her undivided attention as she turned off the engine, smiling softly.

“I didn’t.”

[whumpasaurus101]

I cant get the picture of defiant whumpee being beaten by a group of people (maybe 2 or 3) who Whumper ordered them to.

Cue the splatters of blood. The sound of a fist connecting to skin with a hard thud soon followed by a weak and rasped cry.

Bonus points for at the end Whumpee’s eyes meeting with Whumper’s whos sat back on their chair, a cigarette lazily sitting between Whumper’s two fingers.

Whumper soaks in how utterly pathetic Whumpee looks, a beaten mess on the floor, looking up at them.

A beautiful sight if you ask me.

[hold-on-a-little-longer-whump]

”I’ve got you, I’ve got you, I’ve got you-! Hold on!”

[comorbid-corvid]

"I thought you said we weren't going to do this again." Whumper says with an amused grin.

Whumpee scowls at them.

"If you'd had the week I've had, you'd be back to bad habits too."

Whumper laughs, head thrown back.

"Just promise you wont go running to Caretaker after you leave. They nearly killed me last time!" Whumper says, voice dripping with faux fear.

"I promise." Whumpee says quietly.

"I don't know...you promised last time too. Why should I-"

"Just shut up and fucking hurt me already!"

[wickjump]

i think cross should get to be conditioned like a dog by some sort of villain given his story is partially centered around his dehumanization (changing his name to not appear like a ‘species’, saying ‘I’m a tool…’ when chara tells him just that, referring to himself as a dog for others, unwavering loyalty which results in his harm *checks list* 100% of the time, blindly following orders, etc)

i feel that could be fitting for him.that’s all