#like the fanfic I’m writing for it is very whumpy

[eightcure]

Some Danny phantom sketches for the void

[whumptober]

Meet The New Mods

Thank you very much for the warm welcome! To begin we’d like to say a very big thank you to mods Pan and Claire, as well as Jo, Marie and Kat, for their hard work in creating and continuing the event for six years — especially with how big the community has become! We have a momentous job ahead of us when it comes to modding the community and running the event as well as they did, but we are determined and up for the challenge.

So perhaps it’s time to introduce ourselves:

gunshou tumblr | discord | ao3

fandom old (she/her)

I’ve participated in Whumptober for a few years, although I never finished. I’m a writer who can’t write fluff to save my life; if a character isn’t going through some kind of trauma in canon I’ll make it happen in fanfic. I live with an old blind mini poodle and intense imposter syndrome. I used to mod communities on Livejournal (fandom OLD) and I’m really excited to be a part of the new mod team. Please feel free to follow and interact with me!

Surro | 21 | he/him | @promptsforyourwhumpfic

AO3: SurroWhump

Discord: surro_

🎵 - I’m Not Okay (Chris Catalyst) and Will of the People (Muse)

I've been lurking in the whump community since 2017, and have been a whump enthusiast for as long as I can remember (seriously, all of my original characters have to had some sort of whumpy backstory). I’ve been a loyal Whumptober completionist since 2018, and have written my fair share of angst for a variety of whumpees and OCs.This is my first time being a part of a mod team, and I am really thrilled to be a part of such a big event! I look forward to working on this project and interacting with the wider community.

Kitty | she/her | @mrmustachious

AO3: TheWeatherOutside

Discord: justkitty.

Hello everyone! Those in the Whumptober discord may know me as being a mod there since last year, but if not, then hi! I have been a completionist for Whumptober every year since 2019, and it’s safe to say that the event quickly became one of my favourite times of year. I’ve been a fan of whump since well before I knew what it was, so it’s been amazing to find a community filled with so many like-minded, wonderful people creating such fantastic (and evil ;)) works. I’m so excited to be a part of the team, and I am looking forward to seeing what everyone creates this year.

Vanne | 21 | queer | she/her | @fl4tlines

AO3: savanne

Discord: v4nne

🎵: Lowlife — YUNGBLUD & Cheap Love — girli

Hiya! I’ve mainly lurked in the whump community for a while, across several different blogs. I was a Whumptober completionist in 2021 on an old blog, but I haven’t completed it since! I mainly write OC whump, with more focus on emotional suffering compared to the physical elements. Outside of whump, I volunteer and run a wildlife rehabilitation unit, work in retail and keep the ADHD goblin in my head happy by cycling through an endless list of other hobbies like graphic design, wildlife photography and traveling for gigs. I’m really looking forward to helping put together Whumptober this year and being a part of it!

[wander-wren]

got another bot-spam comment on ao3, but this one is extra weird. let’s do some investigating!

for those not in the know, The Haunting is my dark whumpy “todoroki gets adopted by aizawa” fic. it’s also 60k words long. so right away i’m doubting this person read it. that plus the generic vibes? bot comment. but i’m also pretty sure i’ve heard of this channel before, specifically because it wasn’t crediting authors. hm. so i go check it out: http://www.youtube.com/@DnWhatIf

first of all, these are the videos i’m greeted with:

now, i don’t want to bash anyone’s taste, but this is so extremely not my thing. nooooo way. some of these read more like crackfic, which is fine, but tonally the difference is SO much. and just makes it even more glaringly obvious that they aren’t reading the fics they’re spamming or even giving them a cursory once-over (or putting strong filters on the bot? i’m not clear how bot comments work)

because this is the first thing you see about The Haunting:

i’m guessing, if it wasn’t completely random, it’s the fact that i tagged izuku as a character. and really it’s just lazy, the whole thing. it’s all bots. ai art in the thumbnail, ai voice reading the fic, bot making comment spam for you. zero respect. if this was an actual podficcer i would consider it! hell, i might even accept ai voice readings (MAYBE), if it was obvious there was a human person who cared behind them. it could certainly be a tool for good, since podficcing isn't very common (we love you podficcers. if i had a little bit more confidence i would be one of you).

but anyway, hang on, lets back up a step, because the whole reason i looked into this was the credits issue. the video “what if deku became a teacher at ua” (ugh) (i hate the title gimmick also) is going to be my guinea pig.

so in the little intro (also done by ai), it says “all credits to their respective authors” which, yikes. however, they do link to their permission statement and the fic in the description, so it….could be worse. but also, these are the comments

(and it continues like that for a bit)

the channel name also has a 4.0 after it [edit: it did when i started this post, then i got distracted for two days, and now it is gone. hm], which implies they’ve had a lot of trouble with keeping it up. so it seems likely that this is the channel i heard about stealing fics, they just finally learned to get permission and give credit to try and keep it up this time. the permission statement on this video is real (i wondered if they would just link to something else and assume no one would check), but even THAT author references being “freaked out” (positive?? unsure) when they heard of people finding their story on youtube. before giving permission to upload with credit. so that’s not great

also this sludgepit of content is absolutely the thing that attracts people with no patience clamoring for updates literally one day after the video goes up. go figure. bad vibes all around.

also, if you’re wondering about the quality of the reading (i’ve stumbled on some pretty good ai voices as of late!), it’s, uh. i don’t actually know about how all this works, but i feel like when you pick a voice to read a story it should at least be able to approximate character name pronunciation. and flow.

but alas.

i also don't want to bash the authors in question but the truth is from the very minimal poking around i did (not giving this channel any more of my time than absolutely necessary), the writing featured is....mediocre at best. which is fine and good for the fandom ecosystem and i will NEVER be anything but happy that people are writing and posting less-than-perfect works, especially since some of these premises are pretty unique and i think it's better to have the fic than not. we all start somewhere, fanfic is an excellent way to practice and get feedback at the same time, etc.

but these channels, these kinds of operations, they're going to prey on new and young authors and that's who is going to be saying yes to them. because they want the exposure, they want to be told their work is good enough for someone else to care to record it for youtube, they haven't been around long enough to recognize this for what it is: someone taking extreme shortcuts to get views and likes and a bit of notoriety off of other people's work. and that's shit.

and remember that youtube videos can be monetized!

now, i doubt this channel in particular has been monetized, although it does meet the minimum requirements as far as numbers go:

it shouldn't meet the requirements for the monetization policies, specifically these ones:

especially with the disclaimer in the beginning that the content is not their own--which might be why previous versions of the channel did not give credit. who knows.

however, youtube DID just have some scandals about people making videos that were pretty much entirely plagiarized, which were monetized, so i don't have the highest hopes in the world. still, it doesn't seem monetized, so no strikes against this particular creator for that, at least, but defo something to look out for if anyone ever brings up hosting podfics on youtube.

so yeah, bot spam, not a complete scam this time but definitely really sketchy, bad vibes all around. and i still kind of want to give them permission to use my fic just to see what would happen, lmao

[authortobenamedlater]

Fic title game!

Bitter and Blue

Steady As She Goes

Tranquilize

Fic title ask game

Bitter and Blue: This sounds like a post-Halo 4/5 Chief & Blue Team fic where Chief is very stoically angsting about Cortana. Who also happens to be blue. Mm, I HAVE entertained some thoughts about that….

I could flip this to the TV world and have Cortana thinking about how she sold her digital soul to Parangosky for John’s sake, if that is indeed what happened.

Steady As She Goes: I already wrote this one, a long time ago on an FFN far far away, and I cringe as I link it because it’s as terrible as every high school freshman’s fanfic should be 🫣

The author’s note talks about recording Enterprise on a VCR, MERCY.

Tranquilize: My first thought is Star Trek AOS Jim & Bones, Bones using chemical means to get a restless Jim to calm down. Could be funny or whumpy. Strange that this is what came to mind first as I haven’t written for AOS in ages.

This also could sort of fit a Tom/Chyler fic I’m currently writing, but that one already has a title.

[letstalkwhump]

Let's Talk Whump

Welcome to Let’s Talk Whump, a series of interviews that spotlight the amazing people in our whump community! I’m Malice and I’ll be your host today. 

Here today to talk all things whumpy is the brilliant @another-whump-sideblog!

We’re thrilled to have you here! Do you mind starting us off with an introduction?

You can call me Cam, my favorite color is green and I have a snowglobe collection!

Let’s get straight to the point! What does whump mean to you? 

To me, whump is any media that focuses on pain (of any kind) and how the characters cope (or don’t cope) with it.

And how did you find the whump community? What made you want to join? 

I first got super into whump during a depressive episode. I’m not sure exactly why, but it was comforting. I read pretty much all I could find in the fandoms I was in, and then I just started searching whump in general! I actually don’t remember the first whump fic I read, fanfic or OC, or else I’d shout it out. For quite a while I was reading a lot of whump without interacting at all, out of fear of people realising I was into whump, but eventually I got over that and even started sharing some of my own whump writing!

Do you think your view on whump has changed since you joined? 

I’ve gotten a lot more into OC whump and less into fandom whump as time goes on. I’ve also gotten less afraid of publically liking whump.

Everyone’s favourite question: Favourite whump tropes!

I like pet whump and torture whump a lot. I also like long recovery arcs with imperfect caretakers. And I’m always a big fan of unreliable narrators.

Do you have a favourite piece you've written?

I really like the first chapter of Jane’s Pets. The style is pretty fun and I think it’s a good introduction to the series.

I love the format and second person pov! It’s a really intriguing idea! What does your writing routine usually look like?

I tend to write at complete random, whenever I’ve got a free moment. I write in my phone’s notes app, which is a bad choice but it would take too much work to switch over to something else at this point.

Do you find that some things are easy for you to write? Is there something you struggle with writing? 

I’d like to think I’m pretty good at describing characters’ inner feelings, and I know I’m not great at setting a scene or describing how things look or feel or things like that. I love writing dream sequences because then things can not make sense physically and I can purely focus on the emotion. I also struggle with editing. I tend to edit only very rarely, and usually only after I’ve already posted something. I just known that if I say ‘I can’t post this until I’ve edited it’ I would post things very very rarely lol.

And is there anything you're working on at the moment? 

I’m working on the season finale of season two of Jane’s Pets right now! I’ve also been trying to work on describing the world outside of my characters’ heads and not starting every single scene in medias res.

Do you have a joke or pun you would like to share to spread some smiles today?

Did you hear about the performer who fell through the floor?

It was just a stage they were going through!

I haven’t heard that one before, it’s good! Is there any writing advice you’d like to share?

Just have fun! I guess I don’t really have advice for professional writers, but for those of us here just writing stuff and putting it on the internet for free, there’s no need to get bogged down in what you ‘should’ be doing in your writing. Just do what makes you happy! 

Shout out to your favourite writing/whump blogs, bffs or people who've inspired you.

The first friends I made in the whump community were @whumpyourdamnpears and @whump-in-the-closet! Both are great people who I’m glad I’ve gotten to know!

Finally, is there anything you'd like to add?

Thanks for interviewing me, this was fun!

Thank you so much for joining us , @another-whump-sideblog ! 

And to all you swell folks at home, have a whump-derful day!

[seth-whumps]

Not a favorite whump scene but I NEED to rec Meliodas from Seven Deadly Sins. This man is the single whumpiest character I think I have ever seen in my LIFE. Much of the delicious whump is wrapped up in massive, massive spoilers that I don’t want to reveal, but whumpy aspects include:

1) Meliodas has a special move that requires him to take massive amounts of damage in order for him to then unleash that damage tenfold upon his target. This results in scenes where either his allies have to attack him, or he has to allow his enemies to beat the shit out of him. And if he doesn’t calculate the amount of damage needed correctly or he doesn’t manage to pull the move off successfully, he’s fucked.

2) Meliodas has a marked tendency to allow others to hurt him in battle when he feels guilty. There are at least three scenes I can think of off the top of my head where he does this, and it’s so delightfully angsty every time.

3) I cannot actually explain his backstory without giving away massive, massive spoilers, but the whole thing is so massively angsty it makes for near-endless amounts of both physical and emotional whump both in canon and in fanfic (which a fairly significant chunk of the fans write, myself included.)

For bonus points, since so much of the angst is wrapped up in massive spoilers and backstory reveals, rereading/rewatching will result in you noticing a whole bunch of angsty moments you didn’t realize were angsty the first time because he was hiding basically everything.

For further bonus points, a large chunk of his fans are very much whump fans, whether they realize it or not, because there are so many fics and aus on tumblr and ao3 where his fans have literally gone, “Oh, he suffers in canon? Well, I’m going to hurt him more” and it’s absolutely beautiful.

The only downsides are that Seven Deadly Sins has a lot of sexual humor (in which consent tends to be dubious, but it’s also not supposed to be taken very seriously) which isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, obviously, and also the anime’s really only good for the first two seasons. The rest are…painful to watch, and not in the fun way. Definitely recommend the manga over the anime.

oooh. oooooooh. anon. is this a world I have never seen into before?

first, LOVE the idea that all of these people are unaware whump fans. i truly hope they discover the entire lurking community on tumblr and join us.

secondly, I absolutely adore it when characters have to take damage in order to deal it. zenkichi from p5s, ben from tua, ughhhhh it's such a trope anon it's one of my favorite things out there. i have to see this for myself.

and third, boy do I love me an angsty boy, especially with team members or allies involved!!! he sounds like such a fun whumpee. you could toy with him so well. delicious.

seven deadly sins is now on my whump list. thank you so much for the rec! i'll have my eyes out for him 👀

[secretmellowblog]

Sydney Carton IS who the fandom wants Grantaire to be and you should say it!! Wisest words I have heard all week! (ready or not the fandom should hear this)

AJJSJDD thank you; thank you. 😂 I think the only reason no one else has pointed this out is because so few people care about a Tale of Two Cities anymore. : P

One day I Will write an overlong meta post about Sydney and Grantaire. For now I’ll just say….there are so many times when I read Les mis fanfic and am like “well this isn’t book Grantaire at all, but it is an absolutely perfect characterization of Sydney Carton.” XD ( I love the Les Mis fandom’s collective fanon universe though, it’s fun.)

I think it’s just. If you take Grantaire, and then sand away all his rough edges until he’s a handsome young scruffy clever competent kindhearted lonely friendless snarky witty ambiguously-fruity whumpy hurt/comfort alcoholic classic lit sadboi in unrequited love, you get Sydney Carton. He’s great. This is why I was obsessed with him in high school.

While this is another tangent, there are so many super interesting parallels between A Tale of Two Cities and Les Mis! I’m hoping to write a post on that eventually too so that my high school a tale of two cities obsession has meaning. The parallels are fascinating because it shows that Dickens and Hugo were attempting to comment on the same social issues (ex: Valjean and Manette are their attempts to comment on France’s harsh long prison sentences.)

The main difference between Les Mis and A Tale of Two Cities is that Les Mis is good.

OK I’m joking, I’m joking. As someone who can recite passages from ATOTC by heart— I dislike how it has become The iconic piece of classic lit about the French Rev when it really should not be, at all. XD it’s not a very deep political commentary, in the scattered moments when it’s trying to be— and for a great deal of the time it isn’t even trying to be. But that’s another tangent.

To me the thing about Dickens (having read nearly all his books) is that he’s great at doing character studies/writing weird memorable quirky characters! But his overarching plots are often pretty weak. His stories were like serialized soap operas, essentially, and the “plot” is rarely the point so it’s also rarely good. Like I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Dickens’ most well-loved popular work, a Christmas Carol, is literally just a character study. Because it’s what he’s best at! And his brand of social commentary also works a lot better when it’s just “show us the life of a character who’s been affected by these issues and let us draw our own conclusions” ahsjdjjdjd)

This is all a long winded way of saying….A Tale of Two cities may not be as “good” as Les mis BUT it does have some fun characters, including ultimate whump fanfic sadboi Sydney Carton. (Not to mention Madame “tell the wind and fire where to stop” Defarge.) and clearly people think Sydney Carton should be in Les mis too, given how the Fanon Grantaire we collectively came up with accidentally ended up being Sydney Carton 2. But eyy! One day I WILL write the fanfic idea that’s been kicking around in my head where an elderly Sydney Carton (who was miraculously rescued from the guillotine) meets Les Amis and helps give Grantaire some handy life advice…..one day 😔

[whump-or-whatever]

Thanks @nyooom for the tag!

1. Are you named after anyone? Not that I know of.

2. When was the last time you cried? I shed a few tears watching the third episode of The Last of Us last night. If we’re talking full on crying tho, probably like two months ago.

3. Do you have kids? Nope.

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot? Me? Use sarcasm? Never. (That’s a yes)

5. What’s the first thing you notice about people? I would say their tone of voice, but since you usually see someone before hearing them I suppose their clothing.

6. What’s your eye colour? Hazel I guess? Light brown but greenish in certain lights.

7. Scary movies or happy endings? I guess happy endings simply because I don’t watch scary movies cause they’re usually not actually scary and many have crappy plots.

8. Any special talents? I can make a lot of very strange noises with my voice. Like ones that other people can’t do even when I try to teach them. Also, I’m really good at identifying when someone looks like the love child of two other people. Weird but true.

9. Where were you born? Ontario, Canada.

10. What are your hobbies? I have many. Big ones are playing guitar/singing/writing songs, going snorkelling in rivers to pick up trash in the summer, and going on long walks in the winter (I love exploring). I also like writing poetry and stories (including whump obvs), colouring, drawing, solving Rubik’s cubes, reading (usually fanfic or stuff for uni but sometimes other books), taking pictures, and the typical watching YouTube and TV shows.

11. Have you any pets? Currently living with me, no. But I do have two orange cats named Wilbur (front) and Jasper (back) who live with my mother (she loves them and I could never take them from her).

12. What sports do you play/have you played? Soccer was always my favourite, I played for 12 years. I took swimming up until just before lifeguard training, but I high key hated swimming lessons. I love swimming, I just like doing my own thing. Other than that, I also did karate, ball hockey, and baseball at various points. And I always biked everywhere as a kid. Currently I mostly do walking and swimming, although my friends and I will sometimes shoot hoops or play catch.

13. How tall are you? Around 5’ 6”/167 cm.

14. Favourite subject in school? Hmm that’s difficult cause I love learning everything. My favourite class in high school was probably either guitar, outdoor education, or writers craft, but I loved all the academic subjects. I ended up in university for cultural anthropology though, so I guess that’s now my favourite subject?

15. Dream job? I don’t really have a dream job, never have. I suppose something that uses my degree would be nice, but I’m more of a take it as it comes type person. I’d like to be able to talk to people and make meaningful connections though. I also love being outside so something that combines the two would be great.

Tagging @whumpbump @sucker4whump @pigeonwhumps @whumpy-daydreams @whumpyourdamnpears

No pressure and sorry if y’all have already been tagged (:

[builder051]

Whumpmas in July 2024 day 11: Whumpy daydreaming songs

Aight, before we get started here, I’m going to set some boundaries.

I use a lot of song lyrics in the titles of my fics. That doesn’t mean the piece of music is related to whump or even related to the features of the story. Sometimes I’ll randomly add them as I go to post the fic and realize I forgot to title it. And sometimes I hear a specific lyric in a song and have to write a story to go with it because it sounds perfect.

I know a few songs with outright whumpy lyrics. I consider those to be more like inside-joke trivia items than writing inspiration.

Lyrics that hit me and stir my imagination are often related to angst or inner demons. I will tell you about some of them, but be aware that they can be difficult listens.

I create specific playlists for my novels and novellas, and I post them as front matter for each piece. My fanfic novellas are Tenement Falls, Beautiful Oblivion, and Ignite your Bones. They all contain intense angst, so tread carefully. You can find a teaser for each in my blog archive, and they’re posted in full on AO3.

Ok, here we go:

Songs with sick (as in feeling/being physically ill) in the lyrics:

Inside Out by Eve 6 (no, the title is not Beautiful Oblivion)

I think sick like ginger ale/ my stomach turns and I exhale

Mr. Brightside by The Killers

Now they’re going to bed/ and my stomach is sick/ and it’s all in my head

The City by The 1975

He threw up on the floor and his shoes

Songs and artists that inspire big angst:

Shinedown, in general. A ton of their songs are what could be classified as “breakup songs.” They have many lyrics about being angry and needing to move on. Call Me is permanently off my list of listens; I accidentally made it my theme song in a crisis. (I’ve done that a few times over…whoops.)

Remedy by Thirty Seconds to Mars. This is another of the accidental theme songs. It’s kind of like the singer is offering to be the listener’s support person? Shoulder to cry on? It’s permanently off my listen list too.

I Hope You’re Happy by Blue October. This is the last accidental theme song (I promise), and this one makes me emotional just to think about. Please don’t ask. It’s about wishing someone well after they’ve gone away. No more to say.

Zombie (the Bad Wolves version) is a great classic angst song.

Loser by Beck is quite humorous to me, but it’s great for dealing with (or being) a hot mess.

Losing My Religion (originally by R.E.M., but grab the Glee cover if you can. Cory Monteith does a hauntingly good job.) Mostly because I was weirdly affected by his passing, but it’s also about giving up hope.

Bonus round:

Hot Blooded by Foreigner. You all probably know it, but that’s the proper name of the song (If you google the chorus lyrics, you’ll never find it—too many other associations). Pull it up on YouTube. The front man is very impassioned. And there’s pair of very tight white jeans involved… Anyway, the lyric is:

Check it and see/ I’ve got a fever of 103

[elenath9]

1. What kind of whump is your favorite to write?

Ones that feature illnesses, followed closely by internal injuries/broken bones.

2. What kind of whump is your least favorite to write (although you still do write it)?

Emotional whump because I’m bad at it. I still try though. Maybe also things with lots of blood/gore (haven’t done one of those…)

3. What kind of whump do you absolutely refuse to write?

Anything involving sex/non-con. Or things that are very medically graphic.

4. Is there a kind of whump you wish you could write better?

Emotional hurt/comfort.

5. What character or characters are your favorite to do whumpy things to in your writing?

Right now, Daniel Jackson from SG-1. A few years back, Mulder from X-Files.

6. What character or characters are your favorite to turn into caretakers in your writing?Jack O’Neill. He’s the natural leader/protector, and I just love it when he takes care of his “kids”.

7. Have you ever written whump inspired by personal experiences?

Not per se.

8. How many whumpy stories do you currently have published online?

A few… not sure how many of them qualify as whump vs just hurt/comfort.

Gonna skip a few here

12. What is one of the strangest things you have had to research for your whumpy writing?

Hm, maybe how long it takes to walk certain distances?

13. What is the most recent thing you have researched for use in your whumpy writing?

Information about breaking your leg and the associated recovery.

14. Has any of your whump research ever come in handy in real life?

Not yet.

15. Are you ever hampered by your lack of medical knowledge when writing whump?

Yes. As a molecular biologist, I can write science stuff, but I often struggle with the medical aspects.

16. Has anyone ever called you out on an incorrectly written medical or whumpy scene (such as telling you that the character would have bled out long before help arrived)?

Not so far. I try to be as realistic as possible. I’d want to know if I did something wrong so I could fix it.

17. Do you consider character death (that is not reversed) to be whump?

Yes, certainly. It’s also emotional whump for the survivors.

18. Do ever rely on magical cures or deus ex machina to resolve whumpy situations?

Sometimes, but I never make them get better in the blink of an eye. There’s always a recovery period they’ve gotta suffer through. ;)

19. How long have you been writing whump?

Three or four years, on and off. Only started sharing it exactly a year ago.

20. What was the first fandom you wrote whump for?

X-Files.

21. What fandom would you like to write whump for, but haven't done so yet (due to not knowing it well enough, etc.)?

None. I’m satisfied with writing for SG-1 right now.

22. Do you have any particular songs or playlists that help you get in the mood to write whump?

I don’t tend to listen to music when I write.

23. Do you write whump for OCs or just canon characters?

No, just canon characters.

24. Do you have any whump pet peeves? Meaning things that just bug you when you see them in a fanfic.

Using antibiotics inappropriately, unrealistic responses to injuries.

25. What advice or wisdom would you like to share with other whump writers?

I’ll repeat advice I saw elsewhere: write your story the way *you* want; write what you like rather than what you think someone else would like.

Making a whumpy writer ask game! Pass it on!

What kind of whump is your favorite to write?

What kind of whump is your least favorite to write (although you still do write it)?

What kind of whump do you absolutely refuse to write?

Is there a kind of whump you wish you could write better?

What character or characters are your favorite to do whumpy things to in your writing?

What character or characters are your favorite to turn into caretakers in your writing?

Have you ever written whump inspired by personal experiences?

How many whumpy stories do you currently have published online?

Which of your stories has the most whump in it?

What is your favorite whumpy story you have written?

Share one of your favorite whumpy scenes that you have written.

What is one of the strangest things you have had to research for your whumpy writing?

What is the most recent thing you have researched for use in your whumpy writing?

Has any of your whump research ever come in handy in real life?

Are you ever hampered by your lack of medical knowledge when writing whump?

Has anyone ever called you out on an incorrectly written medical or whumpy scene (such as telling you that the character would have bled out long before help arrived)?

Do you consider character death (that is not reversed) to be whump?

Do ever rely on magical cures or deus ex machina to resolve whumpy situations?

How long have you been writing whump?

What was the first fandom you wrote whump for?

What fandom would you like to write whump for, but haven't done so yet (due to not knowing it well enough, etc.)?

Do you have any particular songs or playlists that help you get in the mood to write whump?

Do you write whump for OCs or just canon characters?

Do you have any whump pet peeves? Meaning things that just bug you when you see them in a fanfic.

What advice or wisdom would you like to share with other whump writers?

[ten-cent-sleuth]

One of the reasons I always end up with impostor’s syndrome with new fandoms is I start digging for info about my faves ’cause I wanna know all their angsty and whumpy storylines. And then I end up knowing all the dirt about freaking season 43 or something while I’m on episode 4 of the first season. And then I start watching YouTube clips and skimming meta blog posts and reading fanfic about spoilery stuff, and maybe I even start writing my own fanfic based on all of that secondhand knowledge… That’s when the You’re A Fraud You’re Tricking Them Into Thinking You Love The Show Like Them All While Being Far Inferior thinking sets in. So I start avoiding that fandom and end up trying out another show, and weeeell… 🙃

SO. I’m going to try to combat this vicious cycle by sitting down with a show and watching it linearly. No spoilers. No YouTube comps or clips. No fanfic until I’m done. Just one show, I challenge myself. Yesterday, I decided on what that show would be—Law & Order: Special Victims Unit.

I’ve already had a few things spoiled about it, like Stabler’s leaving (and coming back), a bit about the Lewis arc, and something about Benson adopting a kid. But I’ve resisted diving too deep into any of these and consequently getting even more spoiled, which, pity me, has been very taxing on my willpower.

Well, I look forward to this ride y’all. Here’s to the first time in, like, a decade that I’m going to watch a show the way you’re technically supposed to. 🥂

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Tell the Truth

Prompts: aaaa the way you write angst is just *chefs kiss* wonderful. I’ve been really enjoying the butterfly project series, it has made me cry multiple times. May I request some fluff to balance the angst? - anon

Excuse me while I sob over Redemption Never Came and politely grabby hand for more angst with a happy ending (Roman angst my beloved) (Also you are an amazing fanfic artist :D) - anon

This is so heartbreaking and whumpy but so soft in the end and I would devour a second part about everyone trying to help undo all the negative patterns they've all instilled in Roman and just showing him affection and everyone's hearts breaking a little more each time he's surprised they actually want to be around him. - LadyofhteWoods

And now a part of me wants to see all those scenarios again, only this time Roman gets loved- walk in the kitchen, get a hug. Sit on the couch? Cuddle pile. Go on a quest? Bring friends, if hurt, patch up and movies. Crying in bed because you had a bad time and your brain is screaming that you suck and a wave of depression has rippled through you and you feel horrible? Have some tea… cry it out…. We’re here. - A_tiny_star_prince

Read on Ao3 Part 1

Warnings: self-doubt, self-deprecating thoughts

Pairings: dlampr

Word Count: 7688

Roman lies. A lot. Maybe it's time they did something about it.

Roman’s lies don’t vanish overnight. How could they? When he’s so used to repeating them, over and over, in a horrific little mantra before he goes to sleep, how can he be expected to get rid of them in only one night?

That doesn’t make them less difficult to hear.

Janus is downstairs, helping Virgil fold up one of the blankets strewn about the living room, when he winces and hisses.

“J? You okay?”

Janus nods, jerking his head upward. Virgil follows his gaze and winces too.

“…Princey?”

“I think so.” That’s a lie. He knows it’s Roman.

“I got this,” Virgil says quietly, taking the blanket from Janus, “you go. He seems to let you help more than he lets us.”

He never really had the choice to let me.

Janus swallows heavily as he appears outside Roman’s door. The lies aren’t nearly as poisonous as they were a few days ago, but they’re strong enough to curl his tongue at the bitterness in his throat. He raises a hand to knock on the door.

The lies falter for a moment before another one floats through.

Don’t come in.

He smirks, gently pushing the door open to meet a darkened room.

“Impressive,” he says softly, making his way over to the figure in the bed and perching on the end, “that could’ve been one of mine.”

He’s rewarded with the quietest of huffs before a head shyly peeks out at him from the covers. Janus smiles and tilts his head.

“Hello, sweetie.”

“Hi.” Roman shuffles a little. “Sorry. Didn’t realize I was summoning you.”

“There’s no need to apologize.” Janus glances around the room. His computer is off and shut. The bathroom light and fan are off. He looks back. “Can I help, sweetie?”

A shuffling of the blankets that’s probably supposed to be a shrug.

“Let me come find you, then,” he murmurs, standing and moving to where the head was a moment ago, “how did you get this many blankets on top of you?”

He slowly starts to move them out of the way, peeling back layer after layer, only briefly wondering whether or not Roman can breathe properly under these. It’s a careful act, one he treats with the same reverence as cleaning his gloves or his scales, creating a little cocoon of blankets as he gets further and further into the covers.

The last one puffs just the slightest amount, up and down.

So you can breathe, good.

Janus doesn’t move this one all the way out of the way, just lifts it up enough to peer inside. Roman’s little face peers back at him, partially covered by another blanket clutched tight to his chest. He looks so…child-like.

The realization makes something warm turn in Janus’s chest.

“Knock knock,” he says softly, “anyone home?”

Roman blinks. “Mm.”

“May I come in, sweetie?”

“Mm.” Roman jerks his chin toward Janus’s clothes. “Lose the sharp bits.”

Janus snaps his fingers, transforming his usual clothes into a soft yellow shirt and sleep pants. “Better?”

“Mm.”

“How did you manage to get so many blankets balanced on your bed,” Janus asks as he slips beside Roman, “mine always fall off after three.”

“Practice.” Roman shifts to make room.

Janus frowns. “Come here, sweetie, let me cuddle you.”

“You don’t have to.”

The frown deepens. “Sweetie?”

Roman buries his face a little deeper into the blanket. “You don’t like cuddling. Virgil an’ Remus said so.”

Oh, Roman…

“Come, sweetie,” he insists, tugging Roman gently into a proper hug, “there.”

“But—but—“

“I may not be as big a fan of cuddling as you and Patton,” Janus says firmly, cupping Roman’s face, “and I’m certainly the type that enjoys being tackled by Remus—“

Roman snorts.

“—but you’re upset,” he finishes gently, “and I want to help.”

Burden.

Needy.

Don’t understand boundaries.

Don’t deserve help.

Janus hisses. Roman sighs.

“Sorry.”

“No need for that,” he assures, still cradling Roman’s face as he pulls him close, “I understand. It’s alright.”

“I know, and I—I don’t want you to leave, but—“ Roman swallows— “I just—I still don’t believe you’re here.”

Janus wraps a pair of arms around Roman’s waist and squeezes. “I’m real, I’m here.”

“I just—“

There’s another lie swirling in Roman’s brain, too nebulous to make it all the way to Janus, but present enough that it makes his mouth tingle. He leans down to kiss Roman’s forehead.

“…you said it was your job to protect the Ego.”

“That’s right, sweetie, it is.”

“I guess I…I just…”

Janus gives Roman another encouraging squeeze. Roman brings the blanket further up his face.

“…I guess I figured that if you—if you could h-hate me that much or h-hurt me that badly and not—not care, then you…maybe you…”

Janus’s heart clenches as the lie finally makes itself known.

Not worth protecting.

He pulls away, shushing the heartbroken whine that Roman makes, taking off his gloves and wrapping every arm around the poor thing. He presses another kiss to his forehead, letting the hiss out into his hair.

“That’s not true, sweetie,” he promises, “and you’ll never know how sorry I am for hurting you and letting it get this far.”

And the poor thing is so tired, so weary that he goes limp in Janus’s arms, save for the blanket clutched tightly to his face. Janus frowns, opening his mouth to say that might be a little uncomfortable, what with Roman’s arms tucked between them, when he starts putting the pieces together.

Roman is still wearing a fair amount of clothing, he’s got something pressed up against his face, under his chin, and he’s got so many blankets piled on top of him that even Janus feels warm.

“And here I thought I couldn’t feel more rotten,” he whispers, carding one hand through Roman’s hair, another scratching gently between his shoulder blades, “but you must be in agony.”

A questioning hum is let out against his throat.

“You’re still touch starved, sweetie,” he says in way of answering, squeezing a little tighter, “are you still cold?”

There’s a soft rush of breath as Janus cups the back of his neck and then a noise is just about torn from his throat as he uses it to pull Roman close.

“Oh, shh, shh, you poor thing,” he murmurs, pressing another kiss to his cheek, “I’m right here, sweetie, I won’t leave you.”

They lie there for a while longer, Roman’s arms slowly lowering the blanket until he shyly puts his arms around Janus in return.

“There you go, sweetie,” he encourages, “hold onto me, that’s it.”

“Why—why are you letting me hug you?”

“Because it seems like you’d like to hug me.” Janus squeezes him again. “You don’t need to have a reason, sweetie, if you need a cuddle, you can have one.”

I need a reason. I need an excuse. I need an argument. I have to convince you.

Another hiss. “You can always ask for hugs, sweetie, you don’t need to convince me to hug you.”

“…really?”

Oh, Roman… “Yes, sweetie, you can ask any of us.”

The wave of disbelief that hits him makes him grit his teeth.

“I promise, sweetie. I promise.” Another kiss to his forehead. “You’re not unwanted, you’re not a burden.”

The silence he gets implies that Roman may not want to prove that—or disprove it—for himself right now.

“…can we just stay here for a bit?”

“For as long as you need, sweetie,” Janus murmurs, settling them in for some rest, “for as long as you want.”

——————————

Patton is in the kitchen, the first one downstairs this morning. There’s already a pot of coffee brewing and he sets the kettle up on the counter. He reaches up to pull the mugs for everyone. The plain black one for Logan, the Nightmare Before Christmas one for Virgil, the sparkly one for Remus, and the blue puppy one for himself. He frowns.

Roman used to keep his mug down here too. This really big red one with a golden crown on the side. He hasn’t seen it in ages.

Footsteps on the stairs.

He turns and sees Roman walk into the kitchen, smiling brightly as if there’s nothing wrong in the world, not a seam or stitch of his prince costume out of place. He strides into the room like he owns it, as if he’s just come down the stairs in his resplendent palace to a crown of adoring onlookers.

“Ah! Patton!” Goodness, he speaks like it too. “Good morning!”

“Roman!” Patton rushes forward and wraps him in a hug.

This is where everything goes wrong.

Roman tenses. Not in a way that means he wants out, but out of sheer surprise. Patton waits for Roman’s arms to wrap around him but instead, there’s just a very, very soft touch to his shoulder.

“Patton,” he asks quietly, “are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m great, kiddo, why?”

“W-well, you’re…you’re hugging me.”

“Sure am.”

“…why?”

Suddenly Patton feels very cold.

He pulls back, not enough to let Roman go completely, but enough to look up and see a truly heartbreaking look of confusion on his face. He can’t help the soft noise that comes out of his mouth as he raises one hand to his face.

“Are you asking why I’m hugging you?” Roman nods. “I want to hug you, kiddo. You’re hug-shaped.”

“I’m…what?”

“Hug-shaped,” Patton repeats, tugging him a little closer with the arm still around his waist, “you’re worth hugging, I like hugging you.”

“O-oh.”

And Patton has to watch as every scrap of confidence falls from Roman’s expression, his shoulders slump, and he looks like he loses some of his height, even. The shift is so drastic that it almost springs tears to his eyes at how much Prince Roman suddenly looks like a lost child, swimming in a costume too big and too heavy for him. Roman face contorts as he looks at a spot on the counter, furrowing his brow as if it’ll explain everything to him if he just glares hard enough.

There’s something fragile about the way Roman leans into Patton’s hand, something breakable about how warm he is right now. Patton shifts his weight to his other leg and there’s a flash of panic in Roman’s eyes, quickly stifled but there.

“Oh, kiddo, I’m not going anywhere,” he murmurs, pulling Roman back in for a proper hug, “I’m right here, it’s okay. You just let it out, okay?”

Roman’s breathe shudders a little into Patton’s shoulder. Then he starts pushing Patton away.

Patton listens, confused, until he watches Roman shake himself and put the mask of the prince right back on.

“Terribly sorry,” he says in the awful, awful cheerful voice as he rakes a hand through his hair, “don’t know what came over me.”

“Don’t,” Patton blurts before he can stop himself, “don’t do that, sweetheart.”

“Don’t do what, Padre?”

“Don’t pretend,” he says, reaching out for Roman again, “you don’t have to pretend you’re okay. Or that you don’t want something.”

“I don’t like being needy, Patton,” Roman says in a soft voice that’s just this side of wobbly, “and you don’t like me needy.”

And doesn’t that just feel hot and guilty in Patton’s throat?

“I like you, sweetheart,” he says instead, “and you’re not being needy if you want comfort or even just a touch. You’re allowed to want something, Roman, you are.”

Roman huffs in disbelief and turns.

“No, Roman—“ Patton hurries to get in front of him— “you are.”

Something flickers across Roman’s expression. Patton doesn’t even need Janus to tell him that Roman thinks he’s walking into a trap.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” Patton says quietly, “I’ve hurt you so much, haven’t I? I’ve made you think that your job is wrong, that you—that you’re wrong and you’re not, kiddo. You’re not wrong. You’re not awful. I promise.”

Roman’s lip wobbles.

“Oh, come here, sweetheart,” Patton coos, wrapping him back in a hug, and finally, finally Roman’s arms come up to wrap around him too, before he’s being squeezed so tight it borders on painful.

Patton doesn’t care.

“It’s gonna be okay, sweetheart, I promise.” He rocks them back and forth a little as Roman buries his face in his shoulder. “We’ll figure it out, I know we will.”

They stay like that until the kettle goes off and Roman startles, jumping back a little bit. Patton soothes away the last of the jitters and smiles, watching Roman look like…Roman. Not the Prince, not the horribly lost child, just…just Roman.

“I think that’s my cue to make you the biggest mug of hot chocolate you’ve had since Christmas,” he says quietly, “now what mug would you like?”

Roman glances at the cabinet. “Anyone is fine.”

“Then why don’t you go grab one while I get the hot chocolate?”

Patton busies himself with the box, purposely letting Roman have his privacy as he picks out a mug, trying not to make his smile too blinding when he turns and sees Roman shyly hold out a big red mug with a sparkly crown.

“Good choice,” he says softly as he takes it from him, “I missed this mug.”

Judging by the way Roman’s mouth curls up in a little smile, he knows what Patton meant.

——————————

Virgil walks into the room and sees Roman sprawled out across the chair. He almost doesn’t see it.

He’s got to give it to Janus; even though he knows he can hear lies, he’s not sure he would’ve believed that they were actually coming from Roman. Because Roman looks the fucking picture of relaxed right now. It looks like he saw Patton and Logan on the couch and decided there wasn’t enough room for him to take up as much space as he wants. It looks like he’s occupying the entire fucking corner and not just the chair. It looks like he’s every bit the arrogant prince they used to think he was.

Then he sees how tight his jaw is and the slight tremble of his hands.

The room isn’t warm, there’s no reason for Princey to be shivering. There’s certainly no reason for him to be so tense as he sits in the chair, tapping a pen against his cheek in a fabulous impression of mindless thinking but is actually a carefully controlled way of preventing himself from moving any further.

He’s gotta hand it to him. Princey’s good.

Virgil walks up to Roman and shoves his hands into his pockets as Roman looks up.

“Dark and Stormy,” he says in a perfected casual lilt, “is there something I can do for you?”

And wow, okay, if this is what Janus hears all the time then Virgil has no idea how he fucking does it.

Janus hears lies, Virgil hears fears.

Please don’t make me leave.

If you want the chair I’l give it to you, I’ll move, I’ll sit on the floor, I’ll be quiet, but please don’t make me go. I want to stay, please, can I—can I stay? Is that okay?

Virgil tilts his head. “Move the book.”

Roman furrows his brow. “What?”

“The book.” Virgil nods to the notebook in Roman’s lap. “Move it. Move your arm.”

Confused, Roman does as he asks only to squeak in surprise when Virgil pronounces it perfect and plonks himself in Roman’s lap.

“Virgil!”

“Yeah?” Virgil pulls out his phone and leans his head against Roman’s shoulder. “What’s up?”

“You—you’re—“ Roman still doesn’t move— “you’re in my lap.”

“Sure am.” Virgil looks up at him and lowers his voice to a whisper. “No?”

Roman’s voice drops too. “What?”

Virgil indicates his weight. “No? This okay?”

“Y-yeah, it’s fine, I just—what?”

In lieu of a verbal answer, Virgil reaches behind him to take Roman’s free hand and pull it close, tucking it under his chin and clutching it there. Roman’s hand trembles. He finds himself absentmindedly running his thumb over the knuckles, the palm, the fingers. He keeps his eyes on Roman’s face.

Roman’s other arm lowers, gingerly resting on Virgil’s legs. Virgil smiles and squeezes his hand.

“I’m sorry, Princey,” he whispers, “I’ve been fucking awful to you.”

Roman’s face twitches. “…so have I.”

“What, been awful to me or awful to you?”

For a moment, he thinks Roman’s just going to say that he’s been awful to Virgil. Which, yes, he was in the past, but not like Virgil’s been. But instead, Roman opens his mouth and shakily whispers: ‘both.’

“I know, Princey.” Virgil squeezes his hand again. “You’re all good with me, and we can…if you want, I can help with the second part too.”

Roman’s eyes widen and godfuckingdamnit that hurts.

“I gotcha, Roman,” he says softly, lacing their fingers together, “and ‘m sorry I haven’t been there for you recently.”

Roman swallows, Virgil’s eyes drawn to the roll of his throat. “You…you want to help me?”

Roman, you’re gonna ruin my reputation of not having a heart by smashing it into fucking pieces.

“Yeah, Roman,” he reassures, “I wanna help you. You’re important.”

“I am?”

“Sure are, Princey.” He lightly knocks his head against Roman’s. “And if it ever feels like I don’t believe that, call me out on my bullshit. ‘Cause that’s bullshit.”

“What are you two muttering about over there?” Patton shakes his head fondly when Virgil decides to just turn his head upside down instead of turning around. “Virgil, that’s not good for your spine.”

“We’re metaphysical, Pop-star, who cares?”

“When you start complaining about neck pain,” Logan says wryly, “me.”

He glances up too and Virgil hides a smirk at how his face softens when he spots Roman’s expression.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes, yes,” Roman says hurriedly, “everything’s fine.”

“It’s Hug Roman time,” Virgil says immediately after, “so I’m hugging Roman.”

“I think that’s less of a hug than you sitting on his lap,” Logan says, standing, “but we’ll never fit all of us on that chair.”

Virgil feels more than hears Roman’s inhale as Logan and Patton start moving the couch cushions to the floor. He sits back upright just in time to see Roman’s hopeful face and butts his head against his again.

“Come on, Princey, let’s go.”

“…are you going to stand up, or…?”

“Or you could carry me.”

“Virgil,” he hears Patton chide.

“No, no,” Roman says, “it’s fine, I can carry him if he wants to be carried. I will need my hand back, though.”

Okay, yes, Virgil does enjoy Roman carrying him a bit too much for altruistic purposes but it’s worth it when Roman goes to gently set him down and the other two pull him down instead.

“There,” Logan says softly as Roman’s head comes to rest against the base of the couch, “much better.”

Roman opens his mouth to say something when Logan’s hand tangles in his hair and it turns into a slightly strangled sound. Patton chuckles, wrapping his arms around Roman and sighing softly.

“Hey, who wants to play a game?”

Remus’s head pops up from behind the couch.

“We’re already playing a game,” Virgil says, “it’s called Cuddle Roman, now get your butt down here.”

Remus gasps. “My favorite!”

“Okay good,” Virgil mutters as he moves out of Roman’s lap to make room for Remus, “I totally thought he was talking about butts.”

“I have a feeling, my dear,” Janus sighs, striding from the shadows and totally not making Virgil jump, “that it’s both.”

Remus just cackles. Janus takes a seat, reaching out to take one of Roman’s hands in his. Roman frowns at him slightly, his head still spinning from the amount of people around him.

“What—is there something wrong?”

Janus shakes his head. “It’s Hug Roman hours. So I’m here.”

Vigil chuckles at the blush on Roman’s face. “So this is becoming a regular thing, right?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

“Indeed.”

“Yay!”

Remus just holds his brother tighter.

——————————

“…come in.”

“If you’d like to reschedule, Roman, it’s no trouble, I’m happy to…”

Logan trails off as he walks into the room, Roman’s back to him as he hunches over a table near the door to the Imagination. He shuts the door quietly behind him and tucks the notebook under his arm.

“Roman?” He takes a step forward. “Are you alright?”

“Never better, Specs,” Roman says cheerily, too cheerily, “just give me one moment and I’m all yours.”

Logan frowns. “If you’d like to reschedule, Roman,” he repeats, softer this time, “I can assure you, it’s fine.”

“No, no, that’d be rude.” Something crinkles in Roman’s hands. “Just—just one moment.”

There’s a heavy clunk and a barely contained hiss.

“Roman—“ he starts forward— “are you hurt?”

“Not hurt.” Another clunk. “Just…incredibly clumsy, it seems.”

“Can I help?”

If he weren’t paying attention, he would miss the way Roman’s shoulders tense with disbelief.

“N-no, that’s alright,” Roman says, the first time his voice has slipped, “I’m just…no, it’s alright.”

He jerks his head toward the desk, being very careful not to let Logan see his face.

“It’s over there, I’ll be with you in one moment.”

Logan looks, then walks over to the desk and carefully sets down his notebook. He glances up at Roman and can’t stop the soft noise at seeing Roman’s hands shake and fumble with a large bottle.

“Roman,” he calls softly, “Roman, please.”

Roman freezes.

“…please what?”

“Let me help you,” he says, walking over, “let me help you with this.”

Roman shudders and tries to laugh again. “You don’t need to busy yourself with inane and worthless tasks, Logan.”

Oh. Oh, dear.

“You’re not inane or worthless, Roman,” he says firmly, “nor are you a task.”

Roman’s shoulder is cold under his hand. He cups it nonetheless and leans closer, mindful to keep his gaze down and away.

“Please?”

Under his hand, Roman sighs. “…if that’s what you want.”

He’s not prepared for when Roman turns around, a bottle of micellar water in one hand and cotton ovals in the other. His makeup—done so wonderfully this morning—is smeared and wearing away, his nose bright red under the concealer. Logan lets out another soft noise, taking the proffered items and gently pushing Roman to sit on the table.

He takes one of the cotton ovals and gets it damp, cupping Roman’s chin in one hand.

“Let me know if anything starts to sting or hurt,” he instructs softly and starts to clean the smudges from his face. Roman sits perfectly still, his gaze down at Logan’s tie. His hands fold neatly in his lap and he looks every bit the cooperative ideal.

Except for the way he looks terrified every time Logan so much as shifts his hand.

“You are not worthless,” Logan says quietly as he works, swapping out the cotton ovals when needed, “you are not annoying me. You are someone I care about very deeply and someone I enjoy helping.”

Roman’s chin wobbles.

“I am always impressed by the ideas you create,” he continues after quietly bidding Roman to turn slightly, “and you never cease to amaze me with your creativity.”

Roman’s throat works against his hand as he swallows. “Remus—“

“Remus is Remus,” Logan interrupts gently, “turn—yes, there you go—and you are Roman. You are clever, you are kind, and you are wonderful, and I care about you very much.”

He takes a new cotton oval and takes Roman’s chin again, tapping gently until Roman makes eye contact.

“Close your eyes,” he bids, “and let me know if they start to sting at any point.”

Roman closes his eyes and Logan carefully, carefully starts to clean off the eyeshadow. The golden sparkles are stubborn, clinging to the skin, but he works patiently until the last of them come off. He realizes after that the oval is wetter than it was when he began.

“Oh, little star,” he breathes, glancing around and summoning a soft washcloth to clean Roman’s face the rest of the way, “it’s alright, you can cry if you need to. I won’t mind.”

“It’s stupid,” Roman mutters, raising a hand to swipe angrily at the tears, “it’s stupid.”

“If it’s making you upset, it’s not stupid.” Logan gently but firmly places Roman’s hands on his own shoulders and replaces them with the cloth. “Tell me?”

“I—it’s not even a quest.” Roman’s voice cracks horribly on the last word. “It’s just—I was making something and it broke and I—I worked really hard on it and now it’s ruined.”

Logan lets out a soft noise. “I’m sorry.”

His chest aches when the apology makes Roman shake himself. “It’s fine. Sorry, I didn’t want to just dump that on you.”

“I asked you to tell me what was wrong,” Logan chides, patting his cheek dry, “you’re not dumping anything on me.”

He sets the cloth aside and cups Roman’s face with his hands.

“And I am also sorry,” he whispers, “that I have made you believe that I do not worry about you the same way I worry about Thomas.”

Roman’s eyes fly open. “You—you what?”

“I care about you very deeply, Roman,” Logan says, “you’re very important to me. So yes, of course, I worry about you. You’re upset, and I’ve made you feel like you can’t come to me. I…I have not behaved well toward you. And I will remedy that.”

A new wave of tears meets Logan’s thumbs carefully swiping them away.

“Bonk?”

Roman leans forward and lets Logan rest their foreheads together. After a moment, his hands move to give Roman a proper hug, leaning up to press a kiss to his forehead.

“What were you making, if I may ask?”

“…just a house.” Roman sniffles. “It got destroyed in the last brainstorm.”

“Would you like help?”

“…don’t we have to work on the ideas?”

Logan smiles, resting their foreheads together once more. “This feels more important, doesn’t it?”

Roman’s small but warm smile is more than worth the extra hours they’ll have to spend working on the videos.

——————————

Somehow they forgot.

Somehow they forgot that Roman was scared of the dark.

It wasn’t common that thunderstorms plagued the Imagination, simply because—well, Thomas didn’t need literal brainstorms when he’s got Logan working with him. Sure, sometimes Remus decides he’s going to make his entrance extra cliché and arrive in a literal flash of lightning. Or Roman will create a field of flowers larger than the eye can see and soft bruised purple clouds will roll across the sky, quiet thunder and light rain that feels like a cushion.

But it’s never enough to cause a blackout.

For a moment, they’re all just confused. Thomas’s apartment is fine, Thomas is fine, so they don’t understand what’s happened. Then Remus points out that they, uh, maybe didn’t close the door to the Imagination as tightly as they should have.

He gets smacked upside the head for that.

So they’re here, in the middle of the dark, trying frantically to figure out how to not run into everything. Well, three of them are fine. Virgil can see in the dark. Janus can see in the dark. Remus can see in the dark.

“Is that because you’re the Dark Sides,” Patton mumbles as he puts his glasses back on for the fifth time in the past minute, “or do you each have some kind of ability?”

Remus smiles, even if Patton can’t see it. “It’s more fun!”

“That doesn’t—“ Logan pinches the bridge of his nose— “that doesn’t even answer the question, Remus.”

“I think you’ll find that’s his justification for most things,” Janus says wryly, taking Patton carefully by the arm and guiding him to sit on the couch, safely out of harm’s way.

Virgil elbows Remus to get him to put down the Morningstar, please, and sits down next to Patton. “How long is this going to take to go away?”

Remus shrugs. “Dunno. Probably won’t be that long. We all just gotta sit tight.”

Janus raises a hand to his mouth—not that Logan can truly appreciate his expression—and mock gasps. “Remus, suggesting that we don’t do anything?”

“Oh, fuck off, Snakey.”

“Language!”

Remus blows a fat raspberry. “Even I know it’s a bad idea to try and do something right now. I mean ask Roman—“

It takes a moment for them to realize that Roman isn’t sitting there.

“We should go get him,” Logan says after a moment, “just to make sure we’re all in the same place.”

And with that, Remus is off, stomping up the stairs and conveniently forgetting that two Sides can’t see past the little pinpricks of light at the bottom of the windows. Virgil rolls his eyes and makes to stand, only to frown.

“Virgil?” Logan touches his elbow when he notices him pause. “Are you alright?”

“Feels like I’m being summoned.” He rubs his chest absentmindedly. “But not really.”

“Well, let’s just keep an eye on—hey!”

Virgil doesn’t even hear the end of Logan’s sentence before he’s yanked into another room.

He blinks, disoriented, shaking his head to figure out where he is. Only when Remus bursts up the stairs and pouts that how dare Virgil sink out to beat him here does he realize why he’s here.

Judging by the way Remus’s face falls a second later, he does too.

Remus knocks lightly on the door. After a moment, he curses and goes to knock louder.

“Don’t,” Virgil mutters, grabbing Remus’s arm, “you’re gonna freak him out more.”

“Well, I can’t just blow the fucking door open,” he growls, shaking him off, “that’s gonna make it worse.”

He opens his mouth but another sharp tug from his chest makes him wince. “Okay, then don’t bust it down. Just—oh, god, we gotta get in there.”

“Don’t gotta tell me twice.”

Remus doesn’t rear back and kick the door open, which says something about how concerned he is. They can’t see much of anything except for—

—oh.

Oh, no.

Roman notices immediately when the blackout happens. How could he not? He’d been in the middle of trying to sort out his journal for the day when suddenly he was drowning.

Oh god.

Oh, god.

Within an instant, his chest seizes. He can’t see. He can’t see. There’s something—

No. No, it’s fine. He’s in his room. Everything is fine. Because he’s safe. He’s in his room, he knows where everything is, he knows what everything is in here, he’s fine.

There’s nothing here to be scared of. There’s nothing here to be scared of.

So why is Roman so scared?

He shouldn’t be. He shouldn’t be. He’s a prince, for Disney’s sake, he’s the protector of the Mindscape, he’s—he’s—

He’s Prince Roman. Not some newly minted squire crying because he’s away from home for the first time and it’s all dark and scary and he can’t see anything because he doesn’t know what’s going on and he can’t tell where anything is and he swears he can see things moving in the shadows and—and—and—

Roman shoves his fist in his mouth before he can whimper.

No. No. He’s fine.

He’s fine.

…besides, what would the others say?

He’s a prince. He’s Roman. He’s not some scared weak thing. He’s just—he’s just—it’s—it’s—

They can’t see him like this. He’s supposed to be strong. He’ll never be taken seriously if they don’t see that he can be strong. They don’t take him seriously already, do they? Let alone if they could see him in the dark, alone, hyperventilating, terrified.

But he is.

He’s—he—

Something moves.

Oh, god, something moved.

He freezes, goes absolutely still, tries frantically to still his heaving chest, be small, be unnoticeable, his pride doesn’t matter right now, it doesn’t, he’s not gonna be hurt if he can’t be seen—

“Ro-Bro?”

His next inhale is a whine.

No, no, not Remus—he can’t—not Remus, Remus is strong, Remus will laugh at him, Remus loves the dark, he can’t cry in front of Remus, not for this—

“Oh, Ro-Bro,” he hears through the haze, “Ro-Bro, I’m so fucking sorry, I forgot, hey—hey—“

He won’t cry. He won’t cry. He won’t cry.

“Hey,” Remus calls, tugging carefully at the hand clapped over his mouth, “hey, don’t do that, Roro, you’re gonna hurt yourself, stop it, it’s gonna fucking hurt if you do that, you know that—“

The sob that tears itself out of his throat as Remus pries his hand away hurts his ears.

“Hey, Roro,” Remus soothes, taking his hands and squeezing them firmly, “hey, you gotta just be here for me, you focus on me, okay?”

“Re—“

“Come here, Ro.”

Remus scoops him up into his lap. To hell with whatever is twisting around in the shadows, Remus is holding him in his lap, rocking him back and forth and Remus is of the dark.

A rush of shame through his stomach and the first real sob into Remus’s shoulder hurts.

“Nuh-uh, Ro,” comes the mutter over his head, “don’t hold it in.”

The shame only grows. Then Remus tightens his grip until it’s all he can feel.

“I’m right here, Ro, I’m right here. It’s okay. You can be scared.”

“N-not scared.”

A gentle hiss in his ear as something—someone presses against his back and more arms than he can count wrap around his chest.

“Shh, shh,” Remus murmurs as he starts, “it’s just Janny.”

“Boo,” Janus whispers as he presses a kiss on his shoulder. Why—why is he here—did he—did he lie too much? He’s not scared, he’s not scared—

“Shh, sweetie,” he whispers as Roman starts to flinch, “I’ve got you, you’re okay, sweetie, stop that. We’ve got you.”

“You’re scared, bud.” Is that—is that Virgil? “Hey, hey, buddy, we got you. I’m sorry, Roman, I forgot you were so scared of the dark.”

Can’t be scared, can’t be scared—

“Shh, shh, sweetie,” Janus murmurs, “stop that. You’re allowed to be scared, it’s okay. You don’t have to be ashamed of it.”

Virgil presses closer, nudging Janus’s head out of the way and replacing it with his own. He leans down to nuzzle into the crook of Roman’s neck, finding the place his collar digs into his neck and loosening it. Curse him. Curse him.

“Hey, bud,” Virgil murmurs, “you’re okay. You’re okay.”

“N-no—“

Janus hisses gently in his ear again.

“No—“ Roman’s breath hitches— “no, no, no—“

“Roman,” comes Logan’s warm voice from somewhere above him, and no—

“Give him to me,” he hears again after a moment, and when he feels Remus’s arms begin to loosen and Janus pulls away he mewls—

“Hush, little one,” Logan says softly, gathering the poor prince into his lap, “you’re safe, you’re right here, it’s just a blackout.”

“You’ll—“ Roman hiccups, his hands still pushing Logan away from him— “you’ll laugh—“

“Never,” comes the chorus, Logan’s arms firmly around his waist. Then another pair of hands covers his and pulls them away.

“Hey, kiddo,” Patton murmurs, gently but firmly placing his arms around Logan’s neck so Logan can cuddle him properly, “sorry it took us a little longer to get here, we had to take it slow up the stairs.”

“Pat—Pat—“

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Patton coos, crouching down to run a hand through his hair as Logan tucks him into the crook of his neck and Virgil rests his head on his shoulder, “we’re all here, it’s okay.”

“Stupid—st—stupid,” Roman mumbles, “I’m stupid—“

Another hiss, followed by a kiss to the nape of his neck. “Stop lying, sweetie,” Janus whispers, “stop it. You’re not stupid.”

“I’m a prince afraid of the dark,” Roman spits out, disgusted, “of course I’m stupid.”

“Falsehood,” Logan murmurs with more tenderness than Roman can remember, “you’re not stupid. You’re not.”

“I’m crying because I’m afraid of the dark,” he spits again, “I’m af-fraid of the dark—I’m afraid of the dark, I’m—I’m afraid—“

He’s afraid of the dark.

Patton presses a kiss to his forehead. “I don’t like the dark either, sweetheart.”

“You’re—you’re not—you’re not crying—“

“No, I’m not.” Another kiss. “But you are, Roman, and that’s okay.”

“Come on, Princey.” Virgil butts his head gently against Roman’s. “You just gotta breathe first, okay? We’re not going anywhere.”

Remus calls from somewhere over his shoulder—what has he been doing? Where’s he been?— “come on, I got all the pillows.”

“Re?”

“Come on, Ro-Bro,” Remus murmurs, appearing at his other shoulder, “close your eyes.”

“It’s already d-dark, Re.”

“I know, but I don’t wanna get the blanket in your eyes.” Suddenly, there’s a swath of fabric hitting him in the face. “It’s just for a moment, Roro.”

“Ready?” Logan scoops him up. “Up we go.”

“H-how can you see?”

“He can’t,” Janus says, suddenly appearing behind him, “but I can. Come now, my prince, we’re just over here, come on…”

Roman lets out a soft noise of surprise when his back hits something soft.

“Snap yourself into something more comfortable, sweetie,” Janus murmurs, “we’re all just going to stay here for a while.”

Patton takes his hand and kisses the back of it as Logan helps tug down the t-shirt he’s poofed himself into.

“I’m sorry,” Roman mumbles, “I’m sorry I’m so scared.”

“None of that now, sweetheart,” Patton chides, cuddling into his side—oh, Patton’s in soft things too now— “you’re gonna be taken care of now. We’re right here.”

“I’m right here, Ro-Bro,” Remus says, promptly flopping down over Roman’s legs, “and no one else is going anywhere.”

Virgil huffs, curling around his head and ruffling his hair. “He’s right, Princey. Just relax for a little.”

“H-how long is the blackout going to last?”

“I don’t know, sweetie,” Janus says, snuggling into his other side, taking his hand between two of his, “but we’ll be here the whole time. Now please, sweetie, breathe.”

He tries. But it’s still dark and even though he knows the others are here, he can still feel the darkness pressing in on top of him. He can still see things moving in the shadows. He can feel it. He can see it. It hurts.

“Roman,” comes Logan’s voice, warm in the dark, “Roman, listen to me.”

“L-Logan?”

“Yes, dear,” he says, “it’s alright. Virgil is by your head, and he can see in the dark.”

Virgil gives his hair a little tug. “Right here, Princey. I’ve got you.”

“Patton is on your left. He won’t let anything hurt you.”

“I’ve got you, sweetheart.” Patton kisses his cheek. “I won’t leave you.”

“Janus is on your right. He can also see in the dark, and it’s his job to protect you.”

Janus leans down to kiss his temple and squeezes his hand. “My prince,” he murmurs tenderly, “my sweetie.”

“And Remus…”

“Nothing’s laying a fucking finger on you, Ro-Bro,” Remus growls from down by his feet, “they’re gonna have to get through me first.”

Logan chuckles. “See?”

“L-Logan?”

“I’m right here, little star,” he says softly, “what do you need?”

“W—where are you?” Roman’s hands tense in Patton’s and Janus’s. “Where—I—I can’t—“

“Hush now,” Logan says, so softly, so softly, as a hand cups his cheek to brush away his tears, “I’m right here, I know you can’t see me. I’m sorry. I know it’s dark. I know you’re afraid. It’s okay, my dear, shh.”

Roman tries to reach out for him only to be thwarted by the grip on his hands.

“Hush, Roman, it’s alright, what can I do?”

“S-stay, please, stay—I want you to stay—“

“I’m right here, can I—“

“Please—“

He almost sobs again with relief when Logan lies down, his head tucked over his shoulder, curling his arms about his waist.

“We’re right here, sweetie,” Janus murmurs, “we’ve got you.”

“I’ve got you, sweetheart.” Patton kisses the back of his hand.

“It’s okay to be scared, Princey.”

“We won’t let anything happen to you, Roro.”

It takes another half an hour for the storm to end and the lights to flicker back on. Roman stays tucked up in their arms, their soft words in his ear, gentle hands wiping away his tears, until he can blink up at all of them and murmur ‘thank you.’

“Of course, sweetie.”

“We’re here for you, Roman.”

“It’s no problem, Princey.”

“We’ve got you, kiddo.”

“All you gotta do is ask, Roro.”

——————————

Remus knocks on the door, the present in his hands. Roman opens the door and tilts his head.

“Re?”

“Can I come in, Ro-Bro?”

“Yeah, yeah, come on.” Roman shuts the door. “What’s up?”

“This is for you,” Remus says, holding out the box.

“Oh—Remus, I didn’t—I’m sorry—“

“You didn’t miss anything, Ro,” Remus says quickly, “and I’m not expecting anything in return. Just wanted to give you something.”

He shuffles.

“And I, uh, I also haven’t really apologized for the shit I’ve done to you, so…it’s that too.”

“O-oh.” Roman clutches the box. “Thank you, Remus. Can I open it now?”

“Sure.” He watches as Roman carefully opens the box and pulls out the stuffed octopus.

“Oh, Re, this is so cute!” He holds it up, looking at the little face. “I love it, thank you.”

He turns it over.

“Wait, what’s…”

“It’s a mood toy,” Remus says quietly, “if you flip it this way, it’s happy.”

The cream side of the octopus has a little smiley face.

“And if you turn it inside out—“ Roman flips the plush so that a red face frowns at him— “it’s sad.”

Roman’s eyes widen and he looks up at Remus.

“I know you find it hard to ask for things,” Remus says, edging a bit closer, “so I thought this could…help.”

“Re…”

“And I—oof!” Remus lets out a grunt as Roman tackles him onto the bed. He chuckles, his arms wrapping tightly around his brother. “I’m glad you like it Roro, just promise me you’ll use it?”

He gets his request a few days later.

It’s been quiet, Thomas is taking a break, and they’re all in various corners of the living room. Janus and Virgil are lazing about in the patch of sun by the window, Patton is in the kitchen, Logan is working on something on his laptop, and Remus is toying with the grip on his Morningstar.

Roman walks down the stairs and he’s clutching a little red octopus.

“Hey, Ro,” Remus says quietly, hopping up and scurrying over to meet him as he comes down the stairs, “you wanna go be alone?”

Roman shakes his head, pushing gingerly into the living room. Remus turns to see everyone paying attention to them, including Janus, who’s sat up fully and is reaching out to Roman.

“Come here, sweetie,” he calls, “is your brain being a bastard?”

Distantly, Remus hears Patton huff at the language but no one says a word as Janus gathers Roman into his chest, bending to murmur softly in his ear. Virgil scoots closer, acting as the guardian, letting Roman relax with the knowledge that nothing will surprise him right now. A gentle tap on Remus’s shoulder and he turns to see Logan, who bends closer.

“What do we do to help?”

“Help me make a mattress big enough for all of us?”

Under Logan’s guidance, Remus manages to make a normal mattress with lots of comfy blankets and pillows. Patton comes from the kitchen with a glass of water set on the table near the three on the floor. He pauses as he turns and quickly sets a cup of tea next to it.

Roman’s grip on the octopus doesn’t lighten up, even after he’s been in Janus’s arms for a while, even after Logan’s gone over and helped Virgil walk him through coming out of the spiral. Janus walks over to Remus and Patton and quietly tells them they should try and get them all to eat something. Nothing too straining for Roman’s system, but something.

Patton brings out a few bowls of snack food and sets them at the foot of the mattress. Then he goes and gently cards his hands through Roman’s hair.

“Come on, kiddos,” he says softly, “let’s move to the mattress.”

Logan scoops Roman into his arms, depositing him safely in the center of the mattress, little red octopus in tow. The rest of them cuddle around him, some Disney movie playing on the TV. Roman eats, then lays his head on Remus’s shoulder. Logan takes Roman’s free hand into his lap and cradles it there, stroking it with his thumb.

About halfway through the movie, Roman turns the octopus so that the cream side smiles at the screen too.

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If you want to be added/taken off the taglist let me know

[killian-whump]

My Blorbo? You wanna see my Blorbo?!??! 😃😃😃😃

BEHOLD MY BLORBO!!!

This is Killian Jones from Once Upon a Time, played by Colin O’Donoghue. I’ve dedicated my entire life blog to this Blorbo and his wonderfully whumpy adventures!!! I love him so much, and I love the guy that plays him so much! They fill my life with joy and make me smile and YAAAAY!

BUT WAIT!!! CHECK OUT THE WHUMP:

Jesus Christ on a Cracker, would you just look at that?!?! The blood, the expression, the trembling, the teeth gritting, the little line of bloody drool... There’s also a teeny tiny little whimper that sneaks out in this scene in the most delectable ‘fighting to stay strong with every fiber of his being but it’s just not quite enough to maintain the facade’ way. Fuck me up five ways from Friday, why don’t you, this man can act the fucking fuckity fuck out of a whump scene. And this was in an ABC Sunday night PG-13 family drama show, so just imagine what he could do with a dark, gritty, disturbing work. I’m living for the day... LIVING FOR IT, I TELL YOU.

BUT WAIT, THERE’S MORE!!!

For a not-at-all limited time only, for the price of ONE Blorbo, I’m gonna show you TWO Blorbos!!! Because I have two Blorbos, and by golly, you’re gonna see ‘em both!!!

HERE HE IS, BLORBO #2:

This is Malcolm Bright from Prodigal Son, played by Tom Payne. He may not be the focus of my blog, but he’s no less the focus of my whumpy daydreams and the majority of the whumpy fanfics I’ve been writing and not sharing with anyone ever lately. He is a precious pumpkin with a whole mess of mental health issues that make him extra angsty with sprinkles on top. He also works with the NYPD homicide team to solve weird murders, so he’s constantly chasing down murderers and getting himself into loads of trouble. But I know what you’re thinking... Does he whump?!

FLAMING HOT FIZZLESTICKS, DOES HE EVER!!!

Much like Colin, Tom is a sweet and good-natured guy with the uncanny ability to pull pain and suffering out of his ass and wear it like a million dollar designer suit. I apparently have a type and it’s “ridiculously cute peanut of a man who is capable of transforming into an extremely angsty character going through literal hell by plumbing the apparently very, very deep and dark depths of his psyche.”

Prodigal Son only lasted for two gloriously whump-filled seasons, but I’m really really hoping that the directors and casting agents of the world noticed how good Tom is at angst and whump and GIVE US MORE OF IT 🙏

THOSE ARE MY BLORBOS!!! 🎉

Thanks for asking to see them; I love showing them off ❤️

who’s the 1 character in media that you love whumping the most? could be games, books, shows, movies, podcasts etc etc SHOW ME YOUR BLORBO!!

[ilkkawhat]

content creator appreciation!! list five favourite sets/art/fic you've made and send this ask to five other content creators! 💕(Spreading some love and self appreciation to amazing content creators! If 5 overwhelms you, choose one, or three! Whatever suits you)

aw bless! I know I complain a lot about the creating process and at times, struggle a lot with appreciating my own works for what they are to me, but this is such a wonderful thing to get those good feelings back! 💜

(and lol...I’m pretty sure I broke the “five” rule but trust me...I have not felt this good about my creations in quite some time)

1. Specimen Stokes - CSI fanfic, currently ongoing

The idea for this one came to me at a pretty difficult time in my life, and is probably one of the only good things to come out of 2020. I got an ask from an anon who probably didn't even intend for me to write the ideas out, that asked me to choose between three AUs and the evil scientist vs detective AU stuck out to me the most--and so much so that I literally ran home (well, walked very fast out of work and drove as safely and quickly as I could lol) to write it, totally intended to make it a one shot and over 50k words later with a 2.5 hour playlist and a ton of visual edits, here we are.

I took a huge risk with this story because while most of my whump fics are probably not realistic for Nick to survive, going full on sci-fi and shrinking him has been such a blast, and while I was super hesitant to do it just cause I didn't know what people might think, I'm glad I did, because it seemed like the people who read it enjoyed the twist (though lmao I'm deathly afraid of how this next chapter is gonna be received)

And not only that but it just opened so many doors for me in terms of creativity, I've been straight up worldbuilding and already coming up with ideas for a sequel, not to mention again, a ton of edits some of which have been the best manips/fanart I've made--my favorite in particular are: this one, this one, this one, and this one (the shrinking gif in particular, since that was something I had never done before) and god I could just keep gushing but just know that this is probably the top creation that I love and I'm sure it shows lol (hell I even bought a bottle of crown royal just so I could have my own bag that hangs over a picture of Nick. I will 100% have my own fic shrine some day with items like these)

2. All In - CSI fanfic, the Veronica Saga (so far 2/3 planned fics have been posted)

The Veronica fics have been both a blessing and a curse for me lol. I'm just gonna very quickly get the bad feelings out and say that maybe I poured a little too much projection into Agony, and worry that maybe I broke Nick too quickly and far beyond repair--and damn, I sure as hell could have went way harder with Atrophy (and honestly I feel I didn't capture as much as I wanted to in that one.) I've wanted to delete Agony in particular so many times which may sound ludicrous given that it's my longest fic yet (over 100k) but...I'm glad I didn't.

If Naomi is my self insert for who I would want to be, how I would want to have a relationship with Nick, etc, then Veronica represents that dark, whumpy side of me that just wants to watch the world burn. I can't tell you how much fun it is to write this villain who's just off the rails crazy and doing things to Nick that make it seem like a horror movie. I've given this series so much thought and though I haven't updated Agony in almost a year, I'm far from finished and can't wait to keep going with the story--the finale especially, I think, is going to be some of my most emotional work yet.

And just like Specimen Stokes, it's opened up many doors for visual creations as well--the chapter graphics (this one is the best one IMO, and would be the cover if this was ever turned into a novel), moodboards (this one is my favorite, encompassing all three fics), and even a trailer for the third fic have given me so much to express, and hell, I'm even tagging certain gifs from george's other works that inspire me for this universe of suffering and it's all just so...great. I def remember the feelings I had when I came up with Atrophy, all of the aesthetics that have swirled in my head for it and some catharsis it gives me when I write the really visceral scenes.

(and for the fic shrine, I have one of those wooden mannequins that I love using for the moodboards to represent Nick in this ficverse)

3. Ficverse: Parker and Madison Stokes - CSI fanfic

There is just so much to this ficverse I love, and so much more I have yet to explore.

As I even state in the description of the series, I really had no direction at first--though I always knew who Parker and Madison's mother was, and am now running with that thread, it took me a few fics to really get a grasp on who they are, how they're like Nick, how're they're different than Nick, etc and I have found myself just so connected with Parker in particular. Their mother, Naomi, was the first OC I made for CSI and grew up with me as I grew up with her and with Parker, I feel like it's like I'm kinda getting more of that, especially with the themes I want to work on in First Flight (a fic which, will hopefully be another one of my best emotional ones though there's gonna be a gut wrench in the middle)

And on another personal level, I had felt so connected with my audience during the process of Last Breath--a fic which was literally handed to me on a platter by an amazing writer with both enough detail to tell me what they wanted but enough freedom for me to do what I wanted, and was made better with some pepper from others, that is an experience I'll always cherish and never forget. All of the discussions I had, all of the twists and turns that came in my head because of it...I didn't want that to end, and I guess that's probably why I'm still writing stories of these two kids, and still feel so invested which is why I'm going harder in First Flight 😂

(also worth noting the again, visual creations--I made an entire chapter of just that, which is a practice I intend to do with all my bigger fics like this one)

And if I ever get to it, I'd love to write the actual like, "San Diego" series I have in mind for Nick leading into this universe (well, and taking place alongside it, because my CSI: San Diego series would probably end with Madison's birth) but until then, I'm having a blast doing the occasional one-offs and again, doing that deeper dive in First Flight (have I said lately how much I am loving what I'm gonna do in that one? cause HOO BOY it's gonna be a trip) and just...having Nick and his kids, and the memory of a character that was meant as a conduit for me to interact with him, and all of the adventures along the way with returning faces and expansions on the newer ones (I love writing Cassie and Eli and how their relationships have evolved with Nick over time)

(and for the fic shrine, I have my own Dallas Cowboys Build-A-Bear named Nina that sleeps next to me every night)

4. Grave Danger edits/gifs

Being that Grave Danger is my all-time favorite episode of CSI, only fitting that some of my favorite photo based works (outside of what I’ve shared for fics cause trust me I am a fan of all of my GD fics too lol) have been made from that episode. I’ve been known to find ways to make so many things from just one episode before (coughDOCTOR WHO MIDNIGHT MONDAYScough) and trust me, if I had photoshop back in the day, I would have tenfold the amount of Grave Danger stuff

But anyway, here’s some of my favs off of the top of my head: running up that hill nick/greg gifset, still script edit, gif script edit (from a version of the script that changes a few things about the episode and make me wish we got it that way instead lol), a nick & grissom gifset--the style of which I did for a warrick version and intended to do a cath and sara one and probably still will someday, a hamilton inspired nick whump edit, down in a hole by alice in chains edit just to name a few!

5. General Nick Angst/Whump gifsets

Kinda cheating with all of this, I know, but I do kinda just lump certain creations together into categories, and this category is concepts made out of inspiration from songs/realizations/just sheer desire to do something grand for my favorite guy, and I have spent hours on a lot of these gifsets, more hours than usual when making gifs (well depending on how fast my computer is going that day lol)

Nick Angst set kinda focused on the trauma that made him a person (warning for the babysitter thing)

my shot from hamilton for Nick (I remember I did this after I had done a request of this for Jack 😂)

a quote that I’m pretty sure I did a mac set before for too, but the “break” gif is probably one of the best gifs I’ve ever made

i was from a very potter senior year for Nick because I was listening to that song on a loop for a whole week

just a crafty Nick whump set based on quotes said to him during times of hurt

[whumperscorner]

Hello! I've just discovered your whumpy FFXV fanfics and oh my gosh I absolutely adore your writing and ideas! I love a whumpy Prompto story! I've looked over the whump bingo and I think Prompto and "Strapped to a bomb" would be a really interesting/whumpy story! Of course please don't feel pressured to write this if you don't want to and I'm so sorry if this comes across as rude. I hope you have a lovely day!

Ah thank you anon! Don’t worry it definitely doesn’t come off as rude :3 I’m really happy you’ve enjoyed my writing!

Decided to try someone kinda new with this, going with Cor’s pov for the first time, so hopefully that will still be somewhat enjoyable eheh

BTHB #6- Strapped to a Bomb

Fandom: Final Fantasy XV

Characters: Prompto Argentum, Cor Leonis, Nyx Ulric (a little bit)

Whumpee: Prompto Argentum

Word count: 2568

Warnings: none

This work can also be found on ao3 :3

Cor lets his eyes finish skimming through the document in his hand. Then he throws it onto his desk along with all the other documents he’s read through and sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. It’s been a very long, very uneventful day. Glancing at his watch, Cor is relieved to find there’s now only a little over an hour until he can leave. Though of course then he has to make his way through the traffic of the streets surrounding the Citadel, which is always a nightmare at this time of day. Now with the furrow between his brows made even deeper than usual, Cor returns to the paperwork. He’s moving on to what he thinks should be the last document in the pile when heavy breathing and rushed footsteps sound through the otherwise empty corridor.

"Marshal-"

"What." Cor's voice is tinged with irritation. This better be damn important for someone to barge in right at the tail end of his workday.

"You’ve been summoned at the entrance," says the breathless recruit. "it’s something about your son."

It doesn’t even take a full second for Cor to react and be up on his feet. He grabs his jacket and phone and hurries out of the office along with the recruit. Not that it’s out of the ordinary for Prompto to come to the Citadel, whether it’s Cor he’s coming to see or Prince Noctis whenever he’s around. Normally he would just let himself in though, and that along with the frantic look on the recruit’s face - no, something has to be wrong.

"What’s the situation?" Cor asks, not bothering to look back and just assuming the recruit is following him as he strides down the hall.

"I don’t know, I was just told to get a hold of you quickly." Comes the answer from behind. Cor almost has time to get annoyed at the lack of information, but the recruit keeps going. "Glaive Ulric and Glaive Altius are there already, and when I left they'd started working to evacuate employees outside of the Glaive."

Cor curses under his breath. Evacuation of the other employees? He trusts Nyx and Crowe enough to make that call, but since they have it has to be something serious. Cor enters the elevator and taps his foot impatiently on the floor, infuriated by how slow the descent is seemingly going. His mind races through all the different possibilities for what could be going on, and how Prompto could be involved in it.

The familiar dingand the sound of elevator doors opening cannot come soon enough, and the second it does he's on the move again. It takes him almost no time at all, though still too long in Cor's mind, to make his way to the doors at the main entrance. From the vantage point there he can already see parts of what's going on. Further down the staircase are multiple glaives already at work. Cor recognises Crowe where she stands at the side, gesturing to the people around and obviously in the midst of the evacuation work. He spares a short moment to send the recruit, who is still following behind him, over in her direction with orders to assist in the evacuation work. Then he sees Nyx, standing a bit further down, and then finally he sees a familiar tuft of blond hair. Prompto is talking to Nyx. Cor can't hear what they're saying as he makes his way towards them, but he can tell from meters away that something is wrong with Prompto. It's the way he's holding himself, tense and unnaturally stiff in his movements.

When Cor is close enough, he sees Prompto’s eyes widen, and his mouth opens in a silent plea. Cor lets his own expression soften some and sends him a reassuring nod. It’s at least intended as one, but he’s not sure it helps. Prompto still looks so very scared, and it pricks Cor’s heart painfully. He's about to turn to Nyx, to demand an explanation as to what's going on, but his attention is caught by something else. Peeking through behind the half-open zipper on Prompto's hoodie is some foreign object.

"Open your hoodie Prom, let me see that." Cor says. His mouth feels too dry all of a sudden, but he keeps his voice low and calm despite it. Prompto shifts uneasily but complies. With two shaky hands he fumbles a bit with the zipper, eventually getting it up. What reveals itself is a jumbled mess of wires and various cylindrical objects in black and grey, all fastened together with tape and zip-ties, strapped around Prompto's stomach like a horrid belt. It's most definitely home made, but there's no mistaking it. Cor recognizes explosives when he sees them.

"The hell-" Cor hisses. Though he immediately regrets that and cuts himself off when Prompto shrinks in on himself as if the curse is directed at him. Worry and disbelief swirl around in Cor's stomach. He turns his head to Nyx so fast his neck nearly twists. "What's going on here?"

The look on Nyx's face mirrors Cor's own emotions, and the crease to his brows deepens as he answers in a hushed voice. "Crowe and I found him standing here just earlier, says someone put that," and he motions with his head towards the device. "on him and dropped him off here with orders to go inside. He didn't see their faces."

Now anger flares up in Cor along with all the other conflicting emotions. Someone had dared to put a godsdamn bomb on his son. Cor feels his body tense up, and his hands balling into tight fists. He wants his hands on them, to make them regret ever thinking they could touch Prompto. But that will have to wait, Cor knows it. The top priority has to be getting that thing off of Prompto safely. He bites back another curse by pressing his lips into a thin line and wills himself to loosen the fists, though the tension still lingers in them.

"Bomb squad?" He asks.

"Already called, should be here any minute." Comes Nyx's answer, and Cor nods. He'd rather they were there already, but pushes that thought aside, they'll just have to wait. He then turns his attention back to Prompto. His son's eyes are wide and fearful, darting in between Nyx and Cor. His hands clutch the ends of the hoodie hard but even then, Cor can see them trembling faintly. Now that nobody's talking anymore, he suddenly becomes aware of Prompto's breathing. How strained it is, coming in short, shallow gasps. As if he's trying not to breathe at all.

Now every part of Cor's body urges him to rush to Prompto's side. To reassure him and tell him that everything will be alright. He knows he can't do that but takes one calm step forwards regardless. "Prompto-"

"No!" Prompto gasps, jerking back a step and stumbling slightly. It catches Cor completely off guard, and he stops dead in his tracks. Lifting his hands in a placating manner.

"Wha-"

"Don't come closer, please." Prompto's voice is barely more than a whisper, but to Cor it seems he might as well have been shouting. "If- if it blows, I don't want to hurt you."

Cor feels like he's just been hit in the chest with something hard. This isn't how things are supposed to be. Prompto, his sunshine, should not have to be this scared- for himself or for Cor. Cor sucks in a sharp breath, and despite what his brain is screaming at him to do he takes a step back to where Nyx is standing. It takes considerable effort to keep his voice calm when Cor speaks up again. "Okay, okay. Prompto look at me," he urges, trying to hold his son's gaze intently with his own. "I'm going to be fine, and you're going to be fine. Do you understand?"

After another moment Prompto nods weakly, even as his eyes glaze over with unshed tears. Cor sighs, and wonders what on earth is taking the damn bomb squad so long. He's about to turn to Nyx with this same question when, as if on cue, Prompto's breath hitches and his eyes fixate on something over Cor's shoulder. He turns around and there, finally, he sees a group of about seven or so men and women prepped with armoured suits making their way down the staircase. It draws some stares and gasps from the few not in the Glaive who are still there, but thankfully the evacuation work has come so far that there aren't many around.

Cor lets his shoulders sag ever so slightly in relief as the woman who seems to be in charge of the group comes over to him and Nyx. They exchange a few words and what little information they have on the situation, and she nods in affirmation and begins her work. Ordering three of her people to secure the streets and immediate surroundings to the bottom of the staircase, and the rest to come with her as she movies calmly towards Prompto. Cor tries to send him another encouraging nod, but he looks possibly even more terrified than before. The wide, unsure eyes and trembling lips are not something Cor wants to see on his son's face ever again if he can avoid it.

"They," Prompto tries, but it comes out more a choked gasp than anything else, and he hurries to try again. "they said not to touch it." The words almost trip over themselves in the rush to get out, and Prompto sends Cor a pleading look. Almost desperate as members of the bomb squad are getting closer to him.

"These people know what they're doing, kid." Cor urges on, thankful that his voice carries such authority and doesn't betray any underlying worries. "Let them help. I promise it will all be fine." Anything else is out of the question, he thinks, but he doesn't say that. Instead opting to take on as soothing and confident an expression as possible.

Prompto nods again, but doesn't look any more convinced, letting slip a tiny whine when the approaching bomb technicians are close enough to touch. The woman orders the hoodie to be removed, and her associates make quick work of it. It's close to torture, Cor finds, having to stay where he is and only watch. Prompto stays stiff and unmoving as the hoodie is removed and thrown to the side, where Nyx goes to pick it up. In the clutter of people now around him, Prompto looks like a forlorn kitten, fixed to the ground and scared to move in any significant way.

"Timer?" asks the woman loudly.

"None ma'am." comes the answer.

At this the woman turns her attention back to Nyx and Cor. "We're sure it's timed?" She asks. "No chance it could be remote controlled?"

Cor opens his mouth to answer but to his great surprise, and the woman's too it seems, Prompto beats him to it. "It's timed," his voice shakes slightly as he speaks. "they said so when they dropped me off… f-fifty minutes." he stammers, then his voice dies down again.

A moment of stunned silence goes by, then the woman curses loudly. "You should have said so sooner!" She snaps. Cor sees how it makes Prompto shrink in on himself and hears his stuttered apologies. They need to figure out how much time they have left, and the last thing he wants is for Prompto to panic now. So he takes a careful step forward, intent on getting Prompto's attention away from the lady.

"Prompto look at me!" He implores loudly, cutting Prompto off in the midst of his train of apologies. "Just look at me. I need you to tell me how long you stood here before anyone arrived, can you do that?"

"I- 6 maybe 7 minutes, I think." He answers, swallowing hard. Cor nods at him again then hastily checks the time on his phone. It's been almost 30 minutes since he left his office, though to him it feels like much longer than that. Still, that doesn't leave them with much time, only a little under 20 minutes. Cor relays the information out loud, to which the woman nods and goes back to her work, not wasting another second on talking.

Through all this Prompto has been keeping his eyes locked on Cor, exactly as told. So Cor sees it the second he returns his attention to his son. That now with the working hands of multiple people back around his waist, and the knowledge of just how long he has left until an eventual untimely death- a little under 20 minutes, it's all too much. Cor can see it all swirling around in his head, can read it in his face. It's one of the effects of having cared for someone from when they were a small child, Cor knows his son, and he knows the breaking point is coming.

"Prompto," he begins softly, "keep your eyes focused on me, okay? Only on me, ignore anything else." Prompto nods, chokes out a sob, and lets the first few tears come. Cor sees them rolling down unhindered, and the wet streaks they leave on freckled skin. "It's okay," he hushes, barely even noticing that he's taken a few more steps towards Prompto. "you've been brave today. Now just let us fix the rest, okay? It'll be alright."

Cor keeps speaking softly like that for what somehow feels simultaneously like an eternity and no time at all. The tears are still running down Prompto's face, but he's managing to keep his attention mostly on Cor and not on the rest of the situation. It's working exactly how Cor was hoping it would. When, after some time, the bomb loosens from around Prompto's waist and movement surges all around it catches Prompto entirely off-guard. But not Cor. Cor rushes forward the second he sees that the explosives are removed and Prompto is being shoved away from them for the bomb squad to finish their work, and when Prompto stumbles Cor catches him. Relief floods through Cor's body like a breath of fresh air, and he wastes no time before dragging Prompto a few secure steps back. He's holding his son, and it's okay now.

Prompto cries for another while, not at all surprising given the rush and tension from the day, but he's at least safe. In a move uncharacteristically tender for Cor when they're anywhere other than the privacy of their home, he runs his hand through his son's soft hair and places a gentle kiss on his forehead. "You're okay Prom, you're okay."

The two are awarded some peace and quiet before Nyx comes to check on the two of them and provide them with the news that the bomb has been properly taken care of. When he does Cor gives him a grateful nod. He knows it's time for him to take Prompto home, but before that there's one last thing he needs to do.

"Make sure the security footage from today is thoroughly checked." Says Cor, his voice every bit as serious as the situation calls for. And now it's Nyx's turn to nod, knowing without needing to be told what he's on the lookout for. "I want them found and identified."

[babygirlthor]

R U H and V for the fanfic ask game

R: Are there any writers (fanfic or otherwise) you consider an influence?

probably every writer i've ever liked- i read constantly so im always just taking little pieces from everything and working it into my writing... though specifically for fandom i can say sailorchibi (for a bunch of fandoms and tropes). also @worstloki because really, the only reason i started writing fic again was because of the lack of tesseroki content so i will happily blame them for propagating the concept XD

U: Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

There's way too many!!! Blizzard_Fire writes an awesome variety of Bruce Banner content and lots of rarepairs which is very fun, and lots of humour and angst.

icarus_chained has written some of my favorite JARVIS content though they have a ton of fics i really enjoy, including an avengers Space Opera AU, some frostiron, and gen loki & thor fics.

i found black_feather_fiction and it was love at first crack fic honestly (i had no idea whumpy crack was even an option but it's my favorite genre ever now). but on a more serious note, I also love their writing style and how they write about Loki's relationship with his own body. oh and they do some fun formatting with line spacing, and section breaks. both of which just increases how effectively they rip my heart to shreds; i love it :D

H: How would you describe your style?

I think it changes depending on what I’m writing, though I do have a tendency to inject humor into every situation. I mostly write fic for myself so it's very specifically catered toward me lol

V: If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

Hmm maybe Throw Me (A Cat Toy) by Quarra, RemingtonFae? because I just loved bucky and loki's friendship established in the series and i need more!! also in this one bucky gets bitten by a radioactive snow leopard, peter takes some of his blood for testing and... well he's not exactly responsible about it. I think a sequel about the consequences of that could be fun to write about!

fanfic ask game