#whumpees fashion sense is terrible

[scratchandplaster]

FEBUWHUMP 2023 DAY 6 - Secrets revealed

CW: recapture, mentions of a cult, reference to non-con touch (non-sexual), drugging, alcohol, Whumpee being awkward

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The bass nearly deafened all other noise surrounding them. He took two full hours to let his longing gaze finally turn into a pickup line, a stuttered mess about fallen angels or whatever corny phrases he googled beforehand. He had thoroughly prepared for this, even written it down on his forearm to not mess it up.

Embarrassing, but she still laughed. Maybe about him, but she did nonetheless, until they laughed together.

Now their bodies were moving closer on the dance floor, basking in the beats drumming from the speakers, which acted as an ever thinning layer between them. Everything around them was like a new taste hammering onto his senses: the music, the drinks, the people…

God, he didn't know any of them, different faces hitting his eyes like a refreshing splash of water, clearing his view. Everything adding up to outline the person now mere inches away from him, inviting him closer to dance, to touch-

He waited so long for this, to finally decide for himself when and how he would show his affection. But there was something that stopped him from moving closer, a very familiar sensation: Fear.

"So what are you looking for tonight?", she practically screamed into his face, when his movements started to turn into more of a tense flinching than anything else.

"Umm...just some company." he replied nervously, probably way too quiet, judging by her lost expression.

Instead of sputtering further, she pulled him by his sleeve and off to the side, between the cocktail bar and the toilets.

Very nice, I bet the stench of piss will make me look more sympathetic, he thought with a sour expression.

Careful to pull his cheap dress shirt down to cover the notes, that were currently getting smeared around by a combination of sweat and iridescent glitter, he felt like the biggest idiot in town.

"Um… I thought about getting one of those," he pointed at an electric blue chalice of unknown contents, currently held by a woman dressed in the shortest skirt he'd ever seen. It looked like the fur of some animal. 

A tiger maybe, he pondered, or a cheetah, they are known for-

"Ah, yeah. They're great. Ever had one?" The little reflective umbrella on top almost waved at him.

"No, but if you recommend them, I'm sure I'll like it!"

Her round face turned avid at that comment. Dragging herself through the crowd, she made her way up to the counter. He continued to look for her between the illuminated shapes that swayed and jumped all around him, using her glitter-freckled skin and wild red hair as an anchor in this unfamiliar environment.

It was calming to know that he didn't waste his evening tucked away in a corner watching, like he used to often enough.

Don't be such a freak, act normal, the desperate voice in his head kept yelling at him. It never revealed something new, even when following him across state lines.

Lifting his gaze off the bar, he took the time to take in the view. Hundreds of people, all different in the most unique ways he'd ever seen: hair, clothing, make up. Now collected in one place for the sole purpose of having fun, being free to express that in any way they liked. He still wasn't part of that mob, but gradually learned how to better take part in this life, the life he always wanted. Finally, finally being on his own, escaping his so-called life and moving far away to start living-

"This is a Blue Lagoon," she explained, ripping him away from his line of thought.

She leaned against the wall holding a bulbous glass in each hand, gradually moving one towards him. Bright liquid sloshed around inside the glass and made the ice cubes softly clink against each other.

"I can't wait for you to try it!" she kept on going, all the while the nauseating presence at the back of his neck started to make itself even more present, "But be honest, it's not for everybody."

Danger. Danger. Danger.

"Mhh...can we...can we maybe switch?" he finally pressed out.

A long stretch of silence followed, he could see her face gradually starting to lose its smooth features. He was not able to place the expression that slowly turned her smile into a grimace of aversion...disgust even? He knew that he ruined it, every chance of living out here was just a thinly veiled lie.

You know where you belong, don't fool yourself.

Wordlessly shrugging, she outstretched her other hand, now holding nearly the same drink as before.

Stop acting like an asshole was the only thought left in his mind, as the thick tension between them was getting worse and worse by the second.

"Sorry," he tried in a last attempt to save himself from being ridiculed, "I just really like the green one."

His fingers grabbed the drink out of her hand, the cursed quiet between them slowly began to dissolve, as her eyes started to widen with insight.

"It's okay, really. It's not a big deal." She looked down at her own glass, decorated with a purple umbrella tucked between an orange slice and a maraschino cherry, and back at him.

"Suits you. So, what are you doing here in Nashville? You don't look like a tourist."

Tell her something, don't be a fucking idiot.

What was he supposed to say: Escaping a cult in Cincinnati? Google didn't encourage that kind of chit-chat.

"Just visiting an old friend." Come on, keep it going.

"Sounds fun!" It was apparent that she was trying her hardest not to turn around and dump him on the spot. A beat of uncomfortable silence started to announce itself again.

"Thank you for being so patient with me, I'm not really great at this kind of conversation," he admitted at last, slowly sipping the alien liquid through the funny shaped straw. Being honest was the least he could do.

A sudden punch of sugary alcohol hit him, making his nostrils burn from the inside out and letting him cough like a high schooler trying their first beer. It truly was great.

"That's alright," she smiled, followed by a quick wink and slurp of her own drink, "It's not the small talk I'm here for."

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"I'm so glad I met you tonight."

They hadn't stopped after one cocktail, he could feel the fruity aromas the bar had offered them still enclosing his tongue. She showed him all her favorites, each coming with their own ornament he secretly put into his pocket, evidence of his adventures.

Now, sitting on the passenger's seat of her old Ford Fiesta, he never felt so free in his life.

"Me too, I waited so long for this!" he breathed through a pleasant shiver, the tingly heat all across his body slowly sinking deeper into his bones. She sat on his lap, straddling him while holding his heavy head between her palms. The copper curls framing her sparkling blue eyes lovingly stared back at his, searching his gaze.

He hugged her waist softly, dragging them both close once again, but not moving down any further. He would never do anything she wouldn't request, exactly as he hoped he would be treated.

She would stop; if I'd tell her that I didn't like it, she would stop.

A notion he never had dared to think back then.

The little voice that mocked him for a good part of the night finally shut up, being replaced by the bliss now warming him from the inside. His vision had long turned fuzzy from the vodka or whatever juice the barkeeper had filled them up with, little black dots dancing up the in the air like TV static. Motionless in their embrace, they remained. She was better than any company he could have hoped for.

"Oh, I have to pay you back still-" he slurred, his hands suddenly breaking contact with her soft skin to fumble for his wallet, "...the drinks, y´know?"

His fingers tucked at the zipper of his fleece jacket, but slipped every time they got a hold of the little slider. If he'd known that being wasted would make him this weak, he would have abstained from one Malibu Sunset...

But only one!, he silently smiled to himself.

"Don't worry about that," she whispered, her weight lifted off his thighs as she placed herself back into the driver's seat, "I just hope you had fun tonight."

He did, but couldn't find the strength to tell her that. His mouth wasn't moving on his command anymore, he felt himself weightlessly sinking into the darkness creeping in at the corners of his heavy-lidded eyes.

"We all missed you so much!", was the last thing he heard before gently drifting towards the void of unconsciousness, thinking nothing at all.

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Thanks for reading 🤍 [Febuwhump 2023 Masterlist]

@febuwhump

[whumperwithwings]

Whumpcember 2024 Day 16

16: Amnesia

"Caretaker, do you know who these people are?" Whumpee walked out of their bedroom carrying a photograph as Caretaker moved over in their seat, Whumpee sitting down next to them. Whumpee turned over the photograph to reveal it's contents, prompting a gasp from Caretaker.

"What is it, Caretaker? Is it something I forgot?" Whumpee looked at Caretaker with innocent eyes, asking the question they had asked several times in the previous month. What happened to them left them without many of their memories, and they had spent hours upon hours trying to pick up the pieces since. Caretaker thought this was one of the things they couldn't forget, but they weren't a scholar of amnesia.

"Whumpee- that's us. The first time we met. A few of our friends are there too. Look, here's you, from years ago, right next to me. With the gray bandana around your neck." Caretaker pointed out were they were in the photograph, up against the wooden wall of an establishment long since closed.

"Is that really me? Wow." Whumpee stared wistfully at the photograph, as if trying to soak in every detail of a moment they couldn't remember. "I had terrible fashion sense back then."

Caretaker let out a giggle before they responded. "Yeah, I know. I had to train that out of you when we started being friends. I should tell you all about that."

Whumpee looked at Caretaker with a forlorn smile. "Please, do. That'd be very nice."

[whump-a-la-mode]

Nemesis - Part 7

At what point does a story go from being a Whump fic to being a weird mystery short story? I’m not sure, but I really feel like I’m toeing the line here. For more directly whumpy stuff, check out my Villainsicle or Signal series ^^

Votes were tied this time around, and I ended up making the final call, as I felt there was better argument given for it. Thus, Villain chooses option B: Don’t trust Hero, attempt escape. Thanks to everyone who voted!

CW//Drugged whumpee, confusion, panic, injuries, ransom notes, kidnapping, death threats, restraints

There was a haunting quality to Villain’s eyes, in the way they looked at Hero.

For the briefest moment, Hero felt to be something beyond reality-- a deity, a ghost, something that should not have been able to be seen. That was the way in which Villain regarded them.

Their hand gripped Hero’s, fingers grasping as tightly as they could manage which trembling and twitching.

Hero felt that they should say something, do something. Some kind of witty one-liner, some great speech. But they found their mouth devoid of words, and thus, they only smiled.

Villain frowned. Their eyes widened.

The brief moment of peace the two had shared was shattered in a moment. For a second, Villain seemed to forget how their limbs were meant to work, instead flailing across the closet, slamming their back into the wall. Shaking hands struggled with the knot behind their head, finally succeeding in freeing it and tossing the gag across the room.

They panted, wide, unblinking eyes staring at the floor. Mouth the slightest bit open-- lip trembling.

Before Hero could think, however, they were already moving again. Terrified gaze lifting to Hero, before their body seemed to respond, moving into the best defensive pose they could manage, fingers digging into the blankets below. Shaking lips pulling back to reveal bared teeth, brows furrowing.

“You... Hero...”

“Yes.” Hero did their best to keep their voice calm, level, hoping to inspire the same within Villain. “Yes, it’s me.”

Their attempts were in vain. Villain’s voice shook terribly:

“Why are you doing this to me? I- I thought we- I thought you- I want to go home!”

Hero could feel their own throat quaking, though for an entirely different reason.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s-”

“I didn’t want to see the stupid fucking thing anyways! I wasn’t even looking for it! I just want to go, please, please, I need to go! I want to go home!”

There was no time for Hero to answer with words-- with a speed that startled them enough to knock them onto their back, Villain launched themself from the closet, struggling to their feet and lurching unsteadily across the dorm.

Hero leapt to their feet in turn, attempting to chase their nemesis, only for their path to be cut off by a flying Teammate. Their faster cohort landed atop the fleeing Villain, pinning their shoulders down and quickly restraining their legs in similar fashion. At the same time, Villain cried out, pleas muffled by the carpet.

It was a pathetic display, enough so that Hero felt a pit form in their stomach. But Villain wasn’t in their right mind-- this was for their own good.

That was what Head Doctor had thought, too.

But this was different.

They expected Villain’s struggles to quickly die down, but such did not come to pass; instead, their kicking grew more and more panicked, more desperate, as though they were drowning. A desperate search for air.

Physicality-wise, there was no contest between Villain and Teammate, sedatives or not. They had no difficulty holding them down. Hero began to inch closer, ready to once again attempt to calm their nemesis into sleep. That was what they needed, right now. Rest. Recovery.

Unfortunately, Villain did not seem to agree.

Hero only made it a step or two before Teammate was screaming-- a sound accompanied by their body, flung across the room like a ragdoll, leaving behind a sizable hole in the plaster.

The pit in Hero’s stomach quickly filled with a horrible chill.

How could they have forgot-

They had no time to finish their thought, the rain of telekinetically-thrown objects taking their attention instead. A mug struck them in the back, breaking and erupting a hiss from their lips. They shook their head, trying to bring their attention back, but Villain already had all the distraction they needed.

After a few flailing attempts, they got their feet underneath them, bolting forth. Hero lurched after them, but their nemesis had too much of a head start. They were too fast, too scared, too goddamn clever.

Villain flung open the door, skidding to a stop with such force that they fell backwards.

“Hero?”

Hero’s heart sunk. Could Leader have picked a worse time to come back?

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Leader was not the type of person for hugs. They were far too prickly for that, refusing to let anyone get too close, in the physical sense or otherwise.

This, however, must have been an exception. Hero could hardly breathe as their team leader wrapped their arms around them, practically squeezing the air out of them. From behind the display, Teammate’s jaw dropped.

“You have no idea how worried I was!” Leader spoke, exasperated, not releasing their grip.

“Worried?” Hero gasped. “I can’t- I can’t breathe.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Leader released them, backing off a step.

Hero made a quick check of the office; Leader’s office, where they had ushered them to. Specifically, they glanced to the corner where Villain sat. After their telekinetic stunt, they had quickly tired out, leaving them covered with a blanket and muttering, leaned up against the wall.

“Of course I was worried about you!” Leader continued. “We all were. Everyone is out there, right now, looking for you. You could have called, or texted, or anything! Oh, god, Hero, I was worried sick.”

“L-Looking for me?” Hero questioned again. “I was only gone one night.”

“And thank goodness for that.” Leader moved to their desk. “Let’s take a seat. I think you have a lot to explain.”

They nodded, and sat opposite the team leader. Teammate quickly joined them in an adjacent seat.

“So...” Leader hummed. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“What?”

“I want to know what happened.”

“I just left for the night.” Hero raised a brow. “I do that all the time.”

Leader blinked.

“Well, usually, you aren’t being kidnapped?”

“Kidnapped?”

“You weren’t?”

“No? Why would I be kidnapped? What- Leader, what is going on with you?”

“What is going on with you?”

“I wasn’t kidnapped.”

Another confused blink. Leader dug in a pocket, producing their phone. They tapped around it a moment before sliding it across the desk.

Hero picked it up. A picture. A screenshot of an email.

An email without a sender.

“Dear Citizens,

I must say, it is impressive how dedicated your protectors were at their attempts at so-called ‘reform.’ More impressively, they managed to hold me for a year. I sure hope you have not forgotten me.

But, citizens, at long last, I am returning to be among you. And I wanted to have a welcome party, of sorts. Call it a game of hide and seek, if you will. Except, you will not only be looking for me.

One of your protectors, the one by the name of Hero, is currently in my custody. They are safe, for now, but whether or not they stay that way is entirely up to you.

You say you have eyes on the whole city? Let’s test that.

Of course, I want to give you a fair chance, just as you gave me. You kept me contained for 375 days. Thus, you have exactly 375 minutes to save your Hero. That’s just over six hours.

Fair, isn’t it? Just as fair as being locked up for a year of your life.

Your time starts now. I hope you will be quick, I have heard that drowning is a terrible way to die.

Sincerely, your dearest Villain”

Hero’s gritted teeth trembled.

“You escaped?” Leader guessed, taking their phone back.

“No.” Hero shook their head. “I was never kidnapped at all! Where is this from? This message?”

“It was sent out to every member of Organization. Just over... Just over 7 hours ago.”

Hero’s mouth gaped.

“You thought I was...”

“Dead, yes. They...” Leader’s gaze drifted to the corner, where Villain had begun to snore. “They didn’t write this, did they?”

“No. No, there’s no way.”

“How are you so sure?”

“They were with me the whole time, asleep.”

“They were with you?”

Hero nodded.

They wanted, so badly, to speak freely. To let spill every word they had been holding back, every detail of Villain’s captivity, of Head Doctor, of their rescue mission. But once they let that out of the bag, they couldn’t take it back. They knew that.

They had to wait. They had to be sure.

“What happened to them? Did they just, suddenly become your friend?”

“No. No, it’s not that. They’re not... not themself, right now.”

“You drugged them?”

“Well, it wasn’t me.”

Leader let out a pointed sigh.

“What are we going to do...” They placed their head in their hands. “Oh god, what are we going to do?”

“I-” Hero glanced again to their sleeping nemesis. “I assume they’ll be taken to the prison.”

“No.” Leader shook their head.

“No?”

“They’ll only go to the prison if we report this.”

Hero’s eyes widened. A look to Teammate revealed that their face held the same expression.

“You aren’t going to report this?”

Leader’s fingers drummed on their desk.

“Okay. Here, here’s what we’re going to do.” They breathed. “There’s no way we can hide you, and I don’t really see the point in it. I’ll tell everyone that you’re okay, that you escaped. As for Villain... We have a spare room.”

“I don’t understand.” Hero shook their head, dumbfounded. “We’re hiding Villain?”

“What, isn’t that what you wanted?”

“I mean, yes, but, I didn’t expect you to agree.”

Leader chewed the side of their cheek.

“Hero, I trust you. Teammate, you too. And Villain... I guess I don’t view them as a threat, at the very least. But beyond that? I don’t know who I can trust, right now. So we keep this between us. Until....”

“Until?”

“Until... I don’t know. Until I know what to do next.” They cast their gaze downwards. “Hero?”

“Mhm?”

“I knew. I knew Villain hadn’t kidnapped you.”

“I thought you said you thought I was dead?”

“I did. But not by Villain’s hand.”

“Then...”

Leader looked upwards, gaze seeming to stare through Hero. A somber gaze. An exhausted one.

“Hero, I talk to Director a lot. Never in person, never over the phone. But we write. We email, or, I mean, sometimes, they even send letters. They’re old-fashioned, like that.”

“What-”

“Let me finish. When you talk to someone that often, you get to know their style. The way they string their words together, the words they use. That email...” They bit their lip. “Villain did not write that email.”

“You thought that Director...”

Hero did not need to finish their sentence. Leader nodded, and they understood.

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Whatever heating system controlled the floor, it must not have reached this room.

The thought came to Hero’s head as they wrapped a blanket around their shoulders, fighting back a shiver. They looked up, glad, at least, to see that Villain seemed to be comfortable in their pile of fabric. There were only so many blankets, and they needed them more.

The spare room was exactly as it sounded, an empty room without purpose. Barren of furniture, barren of everything except a thin carpet. And, now, a stake, hammered into the wall. Holding a chain that ended at Villain’s ankle.

The very thought of restraining them so made Hero feel awfully queasy, but out of everything, it was the only thing they could not argue Leader down from. Without knowledge of Villain’s current state, they still believed them to be dangerous.

Hero had been entrusted with ensuring that they stayed restrained. For a brief moment, they had considered an act of malicious compliance. Using a tiny, thin chain, or not connecting it to anything, or anything that would allow Villain to leave. To not truly chain them.

But... in some small part, they couldn’t help but agree with Leader. Villain was dangerous. Not because they wanted to be, but because they were scared. Confused. Awake.

Awake.

Villain was awake.

They raised their head, shifting the mountain of blankets in which they were wrapped. That confused, hazy look remained in their gaze for a moment-- before being replaced by another expression, one that made Hero’s heart skip a beat.

“Please!” The captive screamed. “Please! I’m trying, I’m trying, I want to go home. Please. Please don’t hurt me! No, no!”

The blankets around them restrained them for a minuscule moment, but they soon tore through the layers of fabric, throwing them about. 

The shackle stopped them quickly, sending them collapsing to hands and knees only a moment after they had managed to stand. they stayed like that, limbs shaking, fingertips growing blue from cold.

Holding them down would only terrify them more. Hero had learned that the hard way, and now Teammate had a nasty bruise to show for it.

No. Hero needed to do something they did not often do: They needed to be careful. Gentle.

Slowly, they crawled forward, stopping only next to their terrified nemesis. They placed a gentle hand on one of Villain’s, bringing it off the ground, encouraging them to sit down until they did so. Though their trembling was certainly derived from fear, they too seemed to be rapidly growing cold. Hero took one of the thicker blankets, draping it over their shoulders.

“Hey. Hey, Villain.”

“Please please please please.” They slurred under their breath.

“Villain? We’re friends now, okay? We’re friends.”

“No no no no no no.”

“You’re safe. You’re okay. You’re going to wake up, now. No one is going to make you go back to sleep. You’re waking up. It’s going to take a minute, okay? But I’ll be here the whole time.”

“Waking up...”

“Yeah. I know you’re confused right now, and scared. And that’s okay. But if you just relax, and let me help you, you’re going to be okay. You’re going to feel like yourself soon. It’s just going to take time. Until then, just let me take care of everything.”

“Take care of me...”

“Yeah. Yeah. How are you feeling? Do you want some water?”

Villain frowned.

“I lied...”

“What?”

“I lied. I lied. I lied. I am going to tell Hero. I lied.”

“Villain? Hey, hey. It’s okay. Look at me. Stay with me.”

“Director. Director. I know who you are. I lied. I am going to tell Hero.”

Hero gulped.

“I’m going to get you some water, Villain. Stay here, please. I’ll be right back.”

“Please please please please please please please ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ...”

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Thanks so much for reading! Just like last time, there are two options along with every part of this story. Alongside each options is a question, so that you guys can give more specific suggestions if you so wish. The option that receives the most votes will be the choice that our Hero makes!

A.) Go right to the source. Confront Director - What should Hero’s plan be?

B.) It’s too risky. Talk to someone else. - Who should Hero speak to? (Hacker, Leader, another member of Organization, etc)

[dear-space-cadet]

25 questions: Constantine

thank you @baconkat02 for inspiring me to do this! the first character on my list is Constantine (#12!)

1: their voice

Very sweet. You’d probably just melt into a puddle if he spoke to you.

2: their smile

Hard to come by, considering he’s a spy and a soldier, but once you make him smile he has the most genuine smile on Earth

3: their greatest achievement

Cheating death like, eight times

4: their insecurities

When he gets to modern times, Constantine is insecure about how much more Caldwell understands than he does. He wants to be the ‘smart one’ but knows no one will ever see him that way.

5: their shortcomings

Constantine is a terrible communicator and doesn’t express his feelings very well unless you’re close with him

6: how they deal with grief

Constantine has dealt with a lot of death and outwardly he’s basically desensitized. On the inside, though, he breaks. He’s terrified of losing another friend.

7: how they like to dress

... in some serious garb

8: what they like to eat

Constantine’s favorite food is definitely chestnut stew but he loves all kinds of stew and definitely falls in love with instant ramen when he gets to modern times

9: their theme

I’m not exactly sure what this means but I’m going to take it as sort of an overarching vibe. Stew, mountain hikes, an occasional video game, and general warmth.

10: their fashion sense

Considering Constantine hails from 1830s Greece... dude wears some serious GARB. In modern times though I think he’d definitely incorporate aspects of 1830s Greek fashion but really like street style since it’s basically modern times’ version of serious garb

11: their family life

Conny has a big family and they’re all very close! They don’t really know what he does because he’s not allowed to tell anyone but his parents are very proud of him and his siblings look up to him

12: their romantic life

Constantine has had girlfriends but never really loved any of them. He does want love, though, maybe a British journalist who comes sailing into the port and wants to go out for chestnut stew... maybe?

13: their embarrassing memory from years ago

Con got tooooo drunk at a Filiki Eteria meeting and had to be dragged home by one of his buddies... not his finest moment

14: how they react to burning their tongue on food

Tries to play it off, as he should be all tough and rugged, but does that whole “haaaAAAhh” thing

15: how they react to a brainfreeze

Refrigerators and freezers freak Constantine out when he first gets to modern times

16: their dreams

To be happy and loved and not die in the war

17: their ambitions

To have a little cottage by the sea and make lots and lots of stew... preferably with Caldwell? unless?

18: how they sleep

Facing the door, always, even when he knows he’s safe.

19: their reaction to betrayal

He’s used to it, but it always hurts somewhere deep inside.

20: their reaction to a mystery love letter

Conny, the big lovable goofball he is, would cherish that love letter and not rest until he finds the sender.

21: how they react to pain

He can handle it, to a point. Classic stoic whumpee until shit gets messy.

22: what they’re like on two hours of sleep

Goofy as hell. Spilling secrets. Should shut up.

23: how they act when they’re sick

Again, classic stoic whumpee, to a point. Completely delirious whenever he has a fever, though, and considering he’s from the 1830s, always thinks an illness means death.

24: what motivates them

Love, justice, good times, and stew.

25: why you enjoy them

He’s an angel and fulfills my primal need for living in the Greek countryside