#whumpzone

[newbornwhumperfly]

whumpmas in july day 7: favorite whump fic!

well, i could not possibly just choose a single favorite whump fic from this beautiful community, so i took this prompt's suggestion of making a list! 💖💖💖😍😍😍 (NOTE: please mind these stories' requisite CW's, as some of the content is both good and rough)

~

@much-ado-about-whumping's entire gorgeous Déomas and Rhys series about my beloved Déomas Overbridge is eternally bookmarked in my soul but this installment - Déomas Settles In - really seized me by the throat and never let go 💔😍😭💖

@whumpzone's heartwarming and wrenching Thomas and Rowe series lives in my heart fondly and there's something about the beautiful and haunting final chapter - Thomas and Rowe: The End - that has lived in my head rent-free for years now 😍💖😢

@whump-tr0pes's Honor Bound series is, of course, a community classic and i would die for each and every one of them, with this installment from Honor Bound 5 - Honor Bound 5: 32 (Verbal Abuse) - being a constant reread for me simply due to how utterly devastating "hallucination of loved one saying your worst fears about yourself" is depicted here 😭😭😭

@haro-whumps's Group Whumpees series will always be close to my heart, for all of their characters are my beloveds, and one piece from that series is this chapter - Group Whumpees 6: Breaking Point - because i love me a good devastating misunderstanding that results in a breakdown! 😈🥰🥺

@whumping-every-day, absent but never forgotten, first got me into writing vampire whump with her gloriously brutal Ash and Callum series, of which, this piece - Vampire Whump: New Beginnings - is a favorite still 😰😈🥺

@ashintheairlikesnow, the patron god of whump, has too many iconic pieces in the BBU canon to name here, but the piece where Kauri (my beloved) attempts to write poetry again post-mind-wipe reached directly into my chest in a way very few pieces of writing in recent memory have been able to do, heartbreak and healing hand in hand 💔💔🥺🥺💖💖

~

have a very merry @whumpmasinjuly everyone! 💖

@whumpmasinjuly-archive

[secretwhumplair]

Little thank you/fanart sketch for @whumpzone <3 It's Rowe, happy, healed and wearing the hair clip Luca gave him! It's been a while but I still love their story.

Had the urge to add (organic, free-range, hand-drawn) sparkles which is not an urge one should ever try to resist :D

[whump-blog-reblogs]

I haven't seen much of Dr.Who but I loved this fic you wrote. Can't wait to read more. And I'm glad to see you writing again.

new story :)

pros: new whump writing!

cons: it's for 1960s doctor who (this is also a pro if you're lucky)

slavery / dehumanisation / long-term captivity / feral whumpee (aka he lashes out a lot) / caretaker as the new master / nsfwhump / recovery / basically no knowledge of dr who needed, i promise

if this might float your boat you can find the fic here! <3

[bebx]

pov: you’re in a horror movie

1. create your own look here

2. find out what role you are here

I kind of love the result I got :)

no pressure tags: @foodiewithdahoodie @queereldritch @elhaspowers @gothbower @ohfallingdisco @josephandjamie @josephfakingquinn @johnsimms @cuethemulti @can-of-pringles @loki-is-my-kink-awakening @nebulousfishgills @mimisempai @thelostsisters @lokisgoodgirl @cultofsheep @onesmainbitch @jcbbby @whumpzone @catboysienna @lussiane333 @erdarielthewhumper @abitofboth @galactic-magick @llywenn @chaos-monkeyy @highwarlockofphilly (only if you feel like playing, no pressure or anything 🥰)

if I didn’t tag you and you’d love to join, please don’t hesitate to do so. I’d love to see the results you got. everybody is welcome!

[maracujatangerine]

90. Restless Night

CW: institutional slavery, pet whump, dehumanisation, box boy universe, cursing

Coriander was lying curled up in its own bed. The curtains drawn against the deepening night outside.

The pet’s whole body ached with exhaustion, but still, it couldn’t sleep. The bone-deep fatigue awaking memories of old, bad times.

Every time it tried to fall asleep, its body would start violently awake. Each time destroying any and all progress the pet had made on the way to unconsciousness. It was extremely frustrating.

It heard steps outside the door. Then, the gentlest of knocks.

“Cory?” Miss Lydia sounded hesitant, her voice low. “Is there anything you need? Would you perhaps like something to eat?”

The pet knew that if it just uttered the words, Miss Lydia would come and sit by it, as she had so many times before. It could almost feel the dip of the mattress as she would sit down, the comforting warmth of her body next to the pet, the soothing feeling of her hands gently carding through its hair and caressing its back and shoulders. The pet’s tense muscles would relax then, as if bespelled. Her mere presence would work like a sleeping spell, lulling the pet into dreamland.

Coriander longed for it. Miss Lydia’s presence, and sleep, in equal measure. But the pet couldn’t ask for it.

It was still so. fucking. angry.

…and upset… and scared… and not being a good pet… and sad… and ashamed… and regretful… and exhausted… and in pain… and confused… and still, so angry.

The very reason her presence would affect it, was the same reason it had panicked in the hospital. In this dark moment, the pet thought it might be the same reason it did anything at all. They had shaped it, moulded its responses, formed its actions, to be whatever its owner desired.

The pet considered just pretending to be asleep, but when Miss Lydia didn’t leave, Coriander finally replied.

“N-no, Miss Lydia. This pet just wants to sleep.”

She stood still for a moment outside the door, the pet could imagine her laying her hand against its surface.

“All right, Cory. I will be downstairs if you need anything.”

She tried hard to sound like every other night, but the pet knew her too well. It could hear the undertones of worry and sadness in her voice. After another moment of silence, Miss Lydia slowly turned and walked away.

*

Thank you all for comments, and reblogs, and likes! I really appreciate you all taking the time! 💖

If you are new to this story, the tale of Lydia and Coriander starts here. There’s quite a lot of it, and I hope you’ll enjoy it! ☺️

I also have another, shorter story in the works that focuses on hero vs villain themes. You can find that here.

*

Tag List Part 1: @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-em @whumpzone @wh-wh-whu @neuro-whump @carnagecardinal @cowboy-anon @whump-me-all-night-long @redwingedwhump @myst-in-the-mirror @haro-whumps @eatyourdamnpears @bloodsweatandpotato @pinkraindropsfell @whumptywhumpdump @theydy-cringeworthy @whump-in-progress @whumpsy-daisy @nicolepascaline @whumpcreations @briars7 @shiningstarofwinter @whumppsychology @alex-ember @miss-kitty-whumptastic @whumpy-writings @in-patient-princess @youtube-fandoms-bands @goblinchildindabog @mazeish @distinctlywhumpthing @inpainandsuffering @canniboylism @icannotweave @incoherent-introspection @kim-poce @broken-typewriter @the-monarch-whumperfly @whumpers-inc @grizzlie70 @lil-whumper @writingbackwards-blog @sunflower1000 @wingedwhump @thecitythatdoesntsleep @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @onlybadendings @rabass @wolfeyedwitch @melancholy-in-the-morning

[whumpsoda]

what are your favorite whump series? any recommendations?

I just adore all of these series so much they all have a super duper special place in my heart :3

Rare Bookseller by @oliversrarebooks

Any of @sowhumpshaped’s series

Both the kennel and behavior modification by @whumpcereal

Linden and Colton by @whumpzone

Worthless by @livelaughwhump

Little Hunter by @foresttheblep

Kane & Jim by @whumpsday

Any of @ashintheairlikesnow’s series

Ambrose and Elliot by @echo-goes-mmm

The Palette by @squishablesunbeam

Any of @oddsconvert’s series

The American Dream is Killing Me by @tired-of-being-nice

The Last Lab Rat by @whumpy-wyrms

[secretsmutcorner]

A first attempt

1,192 words | No Warrior (sequel to Fall)

Content | NSFW (they don't get very far but there is penis), past non-con, name-calling

Notes | Yves pushes his boundaries. It goes... well, it goes.

Taglist | @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @castielamigos-whump-side-blog​​ @whump-me-all-night-long​​​​ @whumpadump1939​​ @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight

@whumpzone @angel-stars​​ @kixngiggles @whumpsy-daisies @yet-another-heathen

@rosesareviolentlyread @cupcakes-and-pain @hollowtreesinhollowwoods @pleasancies @much-ado-about-whumping

@nine-tailed-whump​​ @whump-em @itsleighlove @newbornwhumperfly​​​ @tears-and-lilies

@deluxewhump @whump-cravings @wolfeyedwitch @melancholy-in-the-morning @neverthelass

@whumpsday @silent-orchid-lady @everynameistakencarrots @scoundrelwithboba

Yves had never in his life felt this comfortable.

Another day was gone, and he lay in Runar’s arms, his hands easily tracing along the muscles in his — his lover’s? Could he call him lover yet? — chest. Runar was caressing him, too, his hand running in long strokes from the nape of his neck to his waist, and hesitating.

Yves was overcome with a rush of boldness, of cheek even. He grabbed Runar’s wrist and guided his hand back and down, a grin easily bursting across his lips as he stared a challenge into his face.

Runar chuckled, clearly surprised, but didn’t hesitate to grab his ass. Gently, like everything he did.

»How does that feel?«

Yves couldn’t answer immediately, too absorbed in the unfamiliar touch — a comforting unfamiliarity, too; the worry of being reminded had crept further and further into the back of his mind over the last few weeks. But as invasive as the knights had gotten, there simply hadn’t been much of anything there for them to grab at. Now, almost a year of good meals and swordfighting practice later, though… there was almost some kind of pride in the way he filled Runar’s, his lover’s warm hand.

That, and a sense of closeness outpacing the anxiety in its growth.

Instead of answering, he shifted forwards for another kiss.

»May I touch you?« The words, barely more than a breath, tumbled past his lips when they were free again, if only by hair’s breadth. He could feel Runar’s breath on his face and the heat rising into his cheeks as he heard what he said. As he processed the desire pooling in his groin. As he realized that, for the first time since the knights had torn him to shreds, he truly wanted more.

»You are,« Runar said, and Yves didn’t know whether he was really misunderstanding or gently rejecting him, but kissed him again regardless. No matter how much his hands prickled with longing, he, too, wanted Runar to know it was okay.

Maybe the warrior was shy in such matters. He couldn’t know.

Runar squeezed his ass while they were kissing, so softly he wasn’t sure it was on purpose, but he couldn’t hold back a groan.

You like this, little whore, don’t you?

He pushed the voice down like he had a thousand times before. It was becoming easier. It should become easier.

Runar pulled back, not sharply, just enough to give him a surprised look, chased by a grin. »Oh.« He kissed Yves again. »Did you mean-?«

Yves didn’t let him finish. »Yes.« He couldn’t look into Runar’s eyes, suddenly embarrassed.

»Well…« There was a deep almost-purr in his voice, a tone Yves hadn’t heard before that sent shivers down his spine, heated him up further. »Feel free?«

He traced his fingers down Runar’s body, warm and soft and strong, and he wasn’t sure his head was still working, and he put his lips in the spot his hands had just vacated, covering Runar’s chest in kisses.

His hands found Runar’s cock, hot and throbbing like his own, like-

Go on, slut. If your runty little hands work me well enough, I might not even stick it in, how’s that?

And then, louder, something more than a memory. Look at you enjoying this, whore. I told you so.

He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t.

He was sitting up, hugging his knees, tears forcing their way out of his eyes when he had just felt so good.

Always crying when a real warrior graces you with his body, the voice in his head mocked. It’s not your place to choose this, is it, little bitch?

»… sweetheart?« Runar’s voice broke through the shadows enveloping him.

»Please say my name,« Yves begged quietly, feeling, in that moment, that it was far too much to ask.

Filthy whore.

»Yves,« Runar whispered back.

Worthless toy.

»Yves.«

Bitch.

»Yves.«

Slut.

»Yves.«

Runt.

»Yves. Yves Yves Yves,« Runar whispered, over and over. His hand, very softly, ghosted across his back, and Yves realized he was sobbing, and then he threw himself against Runar’s chest.

»I’m sorry.«

»Don’t be,« Runar murmured, his strong arms wrapped around him. »It’s-«

»I’m sorry. I ruined it.«

»It’s not your fault. Shhh, sweetheart, Yves, it’s going to be alright.« And then, quietly, »I love you.«

Yves just curled closer into him, his sobs slowly ebbing as he found himself again, found himself in Runar’s loving arms. Where he had been. The whole time. Why was he crying?

Why were they chasing him, even after death?

»I wanted it. I want it.« But he wasn’t allowed, and he was still so helpless. Powerless fury swept through him. It would never end.

»I’m- I’m glad. But we can take it easy. Nice and slow, as much as you need.«

»I don’t want to! I just want to- I just want to be with my lover, is that too much to ask?!«

Runar looked into his eyes, then kissed away the tears that were spilling again. His hand rubbed circles over Yves’ back. »It’s not fair. But we’ll work it out, yeah? No matter which way this goes,« he added, planting another kiss on Yves’ forehead, »I want to see it through with you, if you’ll have me.«

Yves rested his ear against Runar’s chest to hear the reassuring thump of his heart, steady, if a little fast. »Let’s just go to sleep,« he muttered.

»Mhm. Would you… can I hold you?«

»Please,« Yves whispered, and they nestled down for the night, cuddled up together.

Yves didn’t sleep well, but when he woke in the morning, he found himself wrapped in Runar’s arms and Runar’s gentle eyes upon himself and he felt better.

»Good morning.« He kissed Runar, and Runar kissed him back, gently pulling him closer.

»Good morning, sweetheart. How do you feel?«

The dread question. Why couldn’t he live a life where him feeling alright was a given?

»I’m better.« Before Runar could respond, he added, »I’m sorry.«

»It’s not your fault.« Runar stroked his cheek. »I’m just glad you’re alright.«

»Hm.« Yves returned the caress, wrapped his fingers in Runar’s long hair. »I’d rather it’d have gone differently.«

A small, sad smile. »Do you still… do you want to… ?«

»Yes.« Yes, he wanted to continue. It was downright embarrassing how much he wanted to. »But you don’t… you don’t have to. You don’t have to put up with this.«

»Yves.« A warm, strong arm squeezed him, and he barely held back a sigh. »I’m not… putting up with you. I love you. I want to do this with you.«

»What if they did break me?« He wouldn’t have dared asked the question before, and even now it was a mere whisper.

Runar’s thumb stroked across his cheek again. »I don’t think it’s possible to break you, sweetheart.«

A mangled chuckle wrested free from his throat… but as the words sank in, he found he trusted Runar enough to believe them, a little.

He kissed Runar, and he would do it a thousand times again, and no one could stop him.

He would face this.

With Runar, together.

[motherfricker]

if there are 1000 snow lover i am one of them. if there is 1 snow lover that is me. if the world is against snow i am against the world. if there are no snow lovers, i am dead

Plzplzplz ur villain whumpee writings give me life and I want morreee

omg ya ur ask 💀 no I will write it promise 😭

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Riot Kings, page 138

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@appy-polly-loggies , @shydragonrider , @professional-idiocy , @burtlederp , @unicornscotty, @whumpwillow , @transjenderdeanjail , @bliss7575-blog , @grizzlie70 , @whatwhumpcomments , @madrono-but-i-am-not-a-fruit , @whumpzone ,. @maracujatangerine , @whump-em , @crystalquartzwhump , @outofangband @onlywhump , @badluck990 , @kixngiggles , @whumpacabra , @whumpy-catfish , @throwawaywhumper , @dont-touch-my-soup , @uvanuva , @kiichu , @dreamsofwhump , @valiantphantomturtle , @voidviewer-blog , @whumpsday , @kira-the-whump-enthusiast , @poorlittlekittycat , @finaldreams1106 , @slimesheep , @redwhump , @apokolyps , @wolfeyedwitch , @emmanemanem, @briars7 , @stuffmyfriendssay , @stuck-in-this-mortal-form , @whumpedydump , @fleur-alise , @basica11ywhumped , @hold-back-on-the-comfort , @withdrawingramen , @daddy-cowgirl-boots @sodacreampuff , @shywhumpauthor , @caughtinthera1n , @distinctlywhumpthing , @randomlifeunit ,

[whumpy-writings]

Of Vampires and Men Map!

So back when I started OVAM I drew a very basic map to help me figure out where things were. I'm talking blobs and stars on important places. It was functional, but not pretty. Well, my sister agreed to turn my chicken scratch into an actual masterpiece! Behold, the world of Pyrne!

I literally almost cried when she showed me the finished map. It's so cool to see the world I've been playing around in for years finally take shape. This is of course only one part of the entire planet. The story thus far has taken place mostly in Torin and Lucia, but I have plans. Big plans. Book 2 is going to take place partly in Enrone, which is going to be super fun. There will also be vampire pirates.

And now for some shameless self promotion:

Cry of Fangs is coming out next Tuesday, March 26! If you purchase the paperback or ebook and fill out the form below, I'll send you a postcard of this beautiful map as a thank you gift. https://forms.gle/x7GNB9Lh1LY9r5Bg8

Preorder Cry of Fangs here!

Grab a signed paperback!

Thank you so much for showing my angsty vampire boys so much love. Even if you can't purchase a copy of the book, know that I appreciate every single like, reblog, and comment. I hope to have some more free chapters up on tumblr soon.

Tagging the OVAM squad: @thecitythatdoesntsleep @whump-cravings @thecyrulik @neverthelass @michelleswhumpyreblogs @whumpsy-daisy @the-monarch-whumperfly @aswallowimprisoned @secretwhumplair @whumpzone @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @nicolepascaline @susiequaz12 @pumpkin-spice-whump @wiwinia @sunflower1000 @whump-blog @melancholy-in-the-morning @suspicious-whumping-egg @whumpsday @ceph-the-ghost-writer @inkkswhumpandstuff @whumpycries @quietly-by-myself @darlingwhump @whumpshaped @dragonqueenslayer6

[newbornwhumperfly]

whumpmas in july day 19: fav whump blogs

aghhhh, i've been so excited for this day because i get to celebrate this beautiful, talented community!!! 💖😍💖😍💖 rubs my little gay hands together gleefully...

@much-ado-about-whumping because they can settle into a character's headspace like its his home, building the beautiful furniture of reaction, justification, trauma, interests, and calculations around that space until each hurt feels like watching the hammers being taken to the boards of a beautiful house. his compassion for his characters is what makes them full, rich, and realized, in all of their crystals and cobwebs, their windows and cellars, and the gift they give to their readers is the ability to feel how they feel and what they feel as surely as if you lived in that house. 💖

@whump-tr0pes because every character they write is jagged and flawed with broken edges, no easy answers or clean lines, where most all of them have hurt and been hurt, they still can get better. when their stories, as langston hughes says, “cuts the world in two to see what worms are eating at the rind”, there are also seeds and despite the worms, maybe even because of the worms, a new tree is planted. their stories say that love and hope and trying are never ever wasted, no matter how ugly or cruel people get or the world becomes. even with worms, nothing is worthless or unable to grow and change. 💖

@haro-whumps because their stories often bear a sharp edge of dark camp, pulpy and vivid, the absurd in the nature of horror itself which, through all of their macabre delights, reveals so often a person just trying to carve out a pocket of stability. the effort reveals the world they live in as absurd. through forging relationships with fellow sufferers, through dutifulness, through healing or maintaining dignity or helping others, there is always a trying at the heart of their characters to make the impossible possible. their villains and victims, whether it’s “i’m a god” or “i’m just a slave”, are all just people at the end of the day, stupid and messy and layered, a thing that horror at its best employs to make its subjects more lovable and more hateable. 💖

@whumpzone because her sense of tenderness serves the underlying traumas in her stories. since most of the horror lies in the pasts of these characters, it is always mind-blowing how well the characters reactions and bodies tell a story about what happened to them, from how they react to the gentle efforts of their caretakers or a perceived harm, so often these boys will break your heart through how thoroughly beaten-down they are and how obvious it is when they don't expect to be safe anywhere. the utter humanity with which the whumpees are treated highlights their past dehumanization all the more and that linearity in storytelling is so damn effective. 💖

@ashintheairlikesnow because what is there to say about her that hasn't been said ad nauseam by writer after writer in this community, for every aspect of her writing? so what i will restrain my praise to the specifics and say that her world-building is a rare and beautiful talent. her worldbuilding serves the themes of her story at every single turn, the tapestry of horror that capitalism wrecks on the world and the shape of the tools trying to cut those threads. there is no corner unexplored in the halls of institutions - she shows us exactly how fucked things are and the manual for how its done. never stop writing because i am hard pressed to remember a dystopia that felt so immediate and so realized. 💖

there is so much talent on whumblr that i could name bloggers all day, these authors just happen to be at the top of my list. your brilliance awes and inspires me and pushes me to higher standards with every new read and reread 🥰🥰🥰

have a very merry @whumpmasinjuly everyone! 💖💖💖

@whumpmasinjuly-archive

[secretwhumplair]

Solstice, p.1

1,494 words | No Warrior (sequel to Solstice, p.0)

Content | Idk what to put. Dealing with past trauma, perceived betrayal?

Notes | Well that went well! Until it didn't.

Excited to get back to this story and give it its long-awaited finish! We're not there yet. But I am full of optimism.

Taglist | @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi​​ @castielamigos-whump-side-blog​​ @whump-me-all-night-long​​​​ @whumpadump1939​​ @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight​​

@whumpzone​​ @angel-stars @kixngiggles​ @whumpsy-daisies​​ @briars7

@yet-another-heathen​​ @rosesareviolentlyread @cupcakes-and-pain @hollowtreesinhollowwoods​​​​ @much-ado-about-whumping​​

@nine-tailed-whump​​ @whump-em​​​ @itsleighlove​​ @newbornwhumperfly​​​ @tears-and-lilies

@deluxewhump @whump-cravings @wolfeyedwitch @melancholy-in-the-morning @neverthelass

@whumpsday @silent-orchid-lady

Runar felt bad for not offering Yves the option to stay at home with him. But it was the solstice festival, and—no matter how callous and selfish it felt in the moment—he couldn’t put every part of his life on hold for him.

It was, therefore, doubly relieving that Yves seemed to be okay. He kept close to Runar’s side as they made their way to the hilltop where wood had been stacked up twice as tall as Runar was, the yet unlit pile silhouetted against the dusky sky, but that might have been due to how narrow the paths through the snow were—more had fallen just this morning.

It was about time for winter to begin its slow retreat, and Yves seemed to welcome it as much as anyone. There was a shadow of a smile on his face, even.

Runar was irrationally proud of how brave he was being. »I’ll go say hi to my family, and then we can check out the food, yes?«

Yves nodded timidly. They hadn’t had lunch yet; after all, the potluck feast would begin as soon as the bonfire was lit once dark had fallen, which would be soon, and last as long as anyone could still eat. Runar had offered Yves to snack with him, of course, knowing how starved he had been when he first found him, and not wanting to stir up dark memories. But Yves, after hearing his explanation, had declined, had wanted to wait for the feast with him. That, too, Runar was proud of for him.

They trudged their way up the hill, and Runar could feel his mood rise along with their path.

It was going to be good.

* The stars were coming out, and Yves felt nervous to the bone.

Nervous enough to trail closely after Runar, no matter how pathetic it felt, no matter how much it stirred the bitter, helpless anger seething inside him all the time now. It ebbed and flowed—his sword practice, as silly as it was, seemed to help, but then there were moments like this, when his anxiety peaked for no real reason and there was nothing he could do, and it felt so deeply unfair. He wasn’t even properly scared—he knew nothing bad would happen to him, and somehow that made it worse. If his nerves could at least save themselves for actual threats—they should have enough experience with them to know the difference.

Still, Runar’s company comforted him, and the joy he and his family shared rubbed off. When Ingunn smiled at him, he found it easy to smile back.

»Yves! Glad you came too, it’s a big day!«

»Yes… I’m glad too.« And it was true. The air was filled with cheer and excited chattering, even among the cloudy wisps spewed forth by every breath. Soon, the warmth would come—first from the fire, and then, eventually, from the sun.

It was an important event.

Watching the crowd made him feel better as they gathered around long tables set up around the fire, some already taking their seats, but most standing and occupied in various tasks, or simply commenting on the stake and the food the tables were laden with, even as families were still carrying up more filled pots and plates.

No one would go hungry tonight, that much was certain.

Even actually spotting Brandr, who stood with two other warriors near the stake and seemed to be engrossed in discussing the quality of the wood or some such thing by the way he gestured aggressively at one log or another, couldn’t fully dispel the warmth of the occasion.

If Brandr confronted him again, this time, Yves would stand his ground. Or so he told himself, even as his heart beat faster at the thought.

He balled a gloved hand. No, he would. He wouldn’t let anyone take this from him, not when Runar’s family was so welcoming. They wanted him to enjoy the night, and he did too.

Dusk crept by slowly, the rising darkness dispelled only by their cheerful voices, but they became quieter and quieter, until darkness and silence were complete.

That was when the eldest lit a torch, its brightness momentarily burning in Yves’ eyes. Everyone watched, rapt, as she approached the wood and with one decisive strike pushed the torch into it.

The center, carefully constructed from dried leaves and twigs, caught fire at once, and cheers erupted from the crowd. Runar joined in, and Yves, too, though his voice was still drowned out.

The flames licked at the larger wood pieces, climbing up and up, until the bonfire reached high into the night sky. The light and the warmth lifted Yves’ heart. Maybe it was all going to be alright. Maybe the darkest days were truly gone now.

Once the cheering was done, the feasting began. After that, it wasn’t long before musicians picked up their instruments, and many voices joined in songs that must be long familiar to the community. Even Yves had heard some of them before by now, though his voice stayed quieter than the rest. Soon people were dancing, and Runar, after checking in with Yves once more, like he always did, like he never abandoned him without notice, jumped into it too.

Yves was undecided, and even that seemed big. He hadn’t danced in—a long time. It seemed fun. He didn’t know the local dances yet, though, and in truth, he felt a little out of place. So he simply sat and watched.

After a while, Signy fell into the now vacated stool opposite Yves, laughing, one of her spouses on each arm. Her wife let go of her and chattered something about getting some of the fish that was being roasted over the other side of the bonfire before she disappeared. Signy noticed Yves sitting opposite her, and gave him a wide grin. Her face was heated, not just from dancing, but her demeanour was, if anything, more jolly than usual. »Yves! How’re you holding up? Having a good time?«

Yves nodded, smiling without effort. He was having a good time. He was having something close to fun, just like he had wanted. He was still a little nervous, yes, but the all-around cheer of the event was rubbing off on him, and he wasn’t feeling unsafe.

»That’s good! That’s good.« Signy’s grin turned into a warmer, deeper smile for a moment, then she focused on her husband again, so intensely Yves looked away, heat creeping into his own face.

Signy’s wife returned to release him from the awkwardness of the moment—or make it worse, who knew—carrying a plate of freshly grilled fish, which she sat down before Signy, in the middle of the three of them.

»Thanks, s͏w̧e҉e͟t̸ḩe̵àr̀t͢« Signy said and kissed her wife’s mouth. When, turning back to the table, she noticed Yves staring at her, she just gave an enthusiastic little wave with her knife before she tucked into the fish.

Yves, though, sat frozen with realization, unable to avert his eyes from her and her—her wife. Her lover.

Her sweetheart.

Each breath caught in his throat. Was that how Runar saw him—what he expected of him?

Since when had he been calling Yves that? He couldn’t be sure, not with the way his mind raced, but it seemed to him it had been since ever. Since the very start?

Was that the reason he had rescued Yves?

Had all his kindness been a ploy to get Yves to-? The thought was terrifying. But why bother? He could easily overpower Yves.

What did he really want? And why hadn’t he been honest about it?

Yves’ head was reeling, and he dug his nails into the stool he was sitting on, desperate to find a grasp on reality.

»Yves?« Runar.

Yves couldn’t answer, or even look at him. He just stared down at the plate in front of him, trying to figure out what this was, even what feeling it was that was rushing through his heart, fear with flashes of fury.

»Are you okay?«

»No.« The word plopped out of his mouth before he could stop himself, and a spike of panic shot through him. He pushed himself up forcefully, still without looking at Runar. »I’m. Going home.«

»Yves… ?« But Runar didn’t move to stop him, and a word was not enough to, not anymore. There was a bitter triumph in it.

As he walked off into the night, he could hear Runar ask Signy and her companions what had happened, heard Signy’s full-mouthed, »No idea.«

It angered him more. How could they be so oblivious?

It was unfair—how would they know?—but everything was unfair, anyway; why should it only be unfair to him? The darkness swallowed him, the light of the bonfire only faint reflections on the snow as he escaped.

Home, he had said, and he almost regretted it.

[newbornwhumperfly]

eeeeeeee more of my boys!!! 😩���😍

@whumpzone i am absolutely in love with this concept??? it fits with our beloved colton so well and it’s so clever how you make our sweet boy feel just as vulnerable somehow when he’s a literal *bodyguard* as when he’s physically crushed 🥺🥺🥺

dude, my heart melted during the scene where colton is panicking in the kitchen, the tension and the resignation were so good?? just!!! so many gorgeous lines, especially “Col was strong but the belt could still make him howl” 😭😭😭

and “he’d be a big brave dog for this. Guard dogs didn't feel fear- they didn't feel anything. Col didn't feel anything.” 😭😩😭 AGHHHH. i felt very much like Vik in this moment of just wanting to give him a reassuring hug 🥺

when you’ve read the brilliant vampire AU where vik hits colton, this protectiveness hits different 😩😩😩

god, it’s lovely to see your writing again friend, this was so delightful 💖💖💖

Linden & Colton - Guard Dog AU

(masterpost)

exactly what it says on the tin! as you may know I've not written in months so I'm super super happy that I enjoyed this and got it done!!

CW: pet whump, dehumanisation + dehumanising language

-

The guard dog had been taken in. Everyone at the shelter was shocked, but none more shocked than the pet himself. Even better than that, he had been named. He was Col now, or sometimes Colton. He had figured that Col was the nicer, more affectionate version, but his new Master used it all the time, so perhaps he’d misinterpreted. Humans named all sorts of possessions, from plants to cars to, it seemed, guard dogs. Col happily accepted the gift.

The second he laid eyes on his owner, Col felt every ounce of loyalty he possessed being placed squarely at this man’s feet. He would be a worthwhile purchase, and protect his Master no matter what.

Master had come as a bit of a surprise at first, when Col was taken from the dog shelter to his home. He didn't look like the kind of person to make much use of a guard dog. Col stayed up all night, watching for threats, but Master's entire road was as peaceful as the man himself. The worst he'd ever seen was a few teenagers letting off fireworks.

Everything was just... a bit strange, with this new Master. He didn't have any heavy weights, no punching bag, nothing to keep Col strong. He never doled out punishments, never made sure Col knew where his devotion was placed. Col knew anyway, he was a good boy after all, but he thought all Masters needed to enforce it. His old owner had talked a lot of weak minds and needing to keep the lesson fresh. Clearly Colton's new Master had quite a bit more trust in him.

Which was weird, considering Col was a stray. But it made him all the more determined to prove himself.

Col made sure to keep busy during his otherwise unnaturally quiet new life: he lifted plastic bottles of milk for hours until his arms finally gave out; he filled a suitcase with books and squatted with it; he recited his rules at night, fighting off sleep, fighting off complacency. He spent the daylight hours pacing the house unless Master told him to calm down, which he soon realised was an order to come and kneel by his side.

The day Col fucked everything up was a day the same as any other to begin with. Master had gone shopping without him, like Col was useless, and that always made him frenetic with anxiety. He had begged, knelt with his head to the floor, to accompany him, to do his job and keep his owner safe, but Master had refused. I'll be fine, Col, he'd said softly, and then as a follow up, you can guard the house, right?

Col had done step-ups at the bottom of the staircase to try and work through his wasted energy, and when that hadn't worked, he'd stared out of the kitchen window like a hawk, every wail of an ambulance siren or police van sending his mind spiralling downwards. By the time Master returned unharmed he was a nervous wreck (utterly unfit for a guard dog, no wonder he wasn't allowed out) and he'd thrown himself at his owner's feet in relief. He knew what a wonderful rush of power his old owner had got from such an imposing pet cowering below him, and Col hoped Master might want to take him out next time, keep that feeling of power going.

In the present, Col was dutifully following Master's order to do some yoga.

The cat, Jaffa, was doing her own set of stretches alongside him, something that pleased Master greatly.

The sound of the front door unlocking pulled him from his meditation. Someone was trying to get in, Col realised, with a burst of aggression.

He sprang up like a startled animal and ran into the hall, but he still wasn't fast enough: the stranger was inside. Col noted a lean, strong build, with no obvious weapon, and tried to plan accordingly in the split second before he collided into him. He grabbed the human roughly by the shoulders and slammed him against the back of the door, letting his head crack against it with the momentum. Not enough to do any real damage, just to make him see stars. He wasted no time in pressing one forearm against his neck, letting it sit snugly against the windpipe, tight with pent up force. There was no mistaking that if he needed to press harder, he would. His other hand stayed gripping the man's shoulder, holding him in place.

'Who are you," he growled.

"Whoa! F-fuck, Linden! Get off me you crazy bastard!" the man shouted, but there was a smile on his face, which only made Col angrier.

Before he could bark his question again or tell the man to shut up, his Master appeared, running over to them. Col bent his head just enough to see both him and the intruder- he had been trained that dealing with a threat was not an excuse to ignore his owner.

The intruder gasped in what sounded like a sigh of relief, or a strained laugh. Col was still pushing on his throat.

"Mate, get off me," he said, and it was infuriating that he didn't seem at all bothered by Col's presence. Col had the upper hand, didn't he? Was there something he didn't know? Maybe this man did have a weapon concealed somewhere?

"I take orders from my Master only," Col replied, and hoped he would get one.

"Let him go, Col," Master said, "and come over here, please."

He obeyed instantly and moved to stand behind his Master's left shoulder, arms folded, glaring at the stranger. Hoping he knew that it would only take one wrong move for Col to knock his lights out.

He expected Master to tell the man to get the fuck out of his house; Colton was more than a little confused when the stranger instead threw one arm out for a hug, and Master leaned in happily.

"Hey Vik."

"Hey. Nice bodyguard you've got there."

"I'm sorry about that. Col," he turned to face his dog, "this is Vik. My brother."

His brother?

Oh, fuck.

All the blood drained from his face and he actually flinched back, his arms unfolding and instead resting hesitantly by his side. Now wasn’t the time for him to look dangerous.

He looked between the two men. Their physical similarities were suddenly glaringly obvious.

Col had fucked up. He'd fucked up and he didn't know how to make it better. He'd just tried to choke Master's brother for god’s sake, and Col was strong, sure, but he still howled when the belt was used on him, or when his owner had held his lighter to Col's arm, or when his back was slashed open and his owner kicked him between the shoulder blades. He was going to have to pay dearly for this.

"-hear me? Col? Hey, hello?"

Col blinked. His mind had wandered- a bad habit he never shook off despite hours of training. Master and his brother were stood together, eyeing him.

He pulled himself together enough to curl his hands against his heart and bow in submission.

"I'm so sorry for my mistake, Sir, it was unforgiveable, and I'm sorry," he said, forcing the words out mechanically. He didn't sound remorseful in the slightest, and he'd said he was sorry twice, it sounded stupid. His panic was starting to seep through. "I didn't know, b-but that's no excuse, and, and I'll take any punishment you see fit."

The sentence was familiar, and Col managed to dig deep for some composure. He'd be a big brave dog for this. Guard dogs didn't feel fear- they didn't feel anything. Col didn't feel anything. He straightened up, but kept his head bowed, and listened to his heart pounding in his ears. He waited to see if Vik was the type to show mercy.

Master spoke first. "No, it's okay. Just a misunderstanding, right? Vik has a key, so that's how he just appeared-"

"Hey, stop giving me evils."

"-and you were just doing what you thought was right, Col."

Col looked up slowly. Master seemed to be waiting for a response.

"What I did was unforgiveable," he tried, the panic smothering his thoughts. He had to get this right and he just didn't know how- except through pain. "I promise I'll take my punishment well, Sir, very well."

He saw Vik's eyes widen as he tried to catch Master's gaze, but it stayed fixed on Col.

"Well... you could apologise to Vik, I suppose, for- for-" Master's words were eaten up in an outburst of laughter. Col's fear took a sharp, and weird, left turn. What the fuck? "I’m sorry, I just can't believe you almost bollocked my older brother, that’s fucking hilarious!”

"Stop laughing!" Vik snapped, giving Master a mild shove that made Col bristle. "Or go do it while making me a cup of tea."

"Sorry, I'm sorry, haha, I'll leave you two alone for two seconds, I'm gonna-"

Master put a hand to his mouth to contain his laughter, and breezed past Col towards the kitchen, giving him a pat on the shoulder as he went. Master figured this was all a big joke, then.

Left alone with Vik. That would be Master's strategy, and Col figured it was more than fair. Vik had been the offended party.

He was about to lower himself to his knees, but Vik reached out a hand, stopping Col. He tensed just a fraction, no more than that: he wasn't allowed to mitigate pain.

"Fair play, mate, you were very quick. Good form, too. Got the jump on me like that." Vik snapped his fingers, making Col stiffen even more. "But we can be cool now, yeah? Now you know my face. You'll probably see me a lot, I come round all the time. So let's put this behind us and shake on it like two gents."

Col realised why Vik's hand was held out.

He thought about protesting for half a second- his old owner had always reminded him how dirty he was- but the last thing he wanted to do was look like he was buying time.

Vik would probably grab his hand and pull him down, try to throw him to the floor. Col didn't think he had the strength, so he prepared to fake it.

The handshake was the most human thing Col had ever done. Vik did pull, but towards him, and not in the rough way Col had expected. He'd forced himself to go so limp that he almost stumbled into him- he caught himself at the last moment and stood still, grazing Vik's shoulder.

"My brother's a really good man," he said, and Col was sure he knew the threat that would follow it up. So if you make one wrong move, I'll break you.

But instead, Vik's voice stayed low, and calm, with no hardness that Col could discern. There was even a smile on his face. "You're gonna be fine here."

. . .

"You're gonna be fine here," he said, doing his best to use his inside voice because he couldn't let Linden hear him being nice about him for once.

And also because the big guy still holding his hand seemed shit-scared already.

Vik had a damn good view being so near to him: Colton's face was absolutely littered with scars. That was meant to be a bad sign when it came to guard dogs- meant they were volatile or picked fights constantly. Vik wasn't so sure. He'd backed off the minute Linden intervened, and Linden had already told Vik that Colton was clearly terrified of him, even though he tried to hide it. Standing with him now, Vik reckoned he wasn't hiding it very well at all. He could feel Colton's heartbeat thrumming from his wrist like a drum.

He briefly imagined a scene in the far future, when Linden's gamble had worked out and this man was alright again, where the three of them were hanging out together, where they were all close friends. Vik would tease him for the time they first met, when Col had tried to chuck him straight back out onto the street. Linden would probably make some joke that he should’ve gone through with it. They’d all laugh – Col would be laughing hardest of all.   

Right now, Vik felt like laughing wasn't a physical possibility for Colton.

"Please punish me as you see fit, sir," Col replied, just as quietly.

"Ahh, well," Vik said brightly, giving Col a pat on the shoulder - making him flinch - and drawing back to a normal distance. His voice raised with it, giving his brother a hint that all was okay. "You weren't to know. No harm done."

Except for the back of my head which hurts like fuck, but whatever, I don't want this guy to start grovelling.

Col looked at him, his frown loosening a little bit. “Really, sir? You’d give me mercy?”

Ew. “Er, yeah, man. We’re cool.”

Linden’s voice came from the kitchen, accompanied by the sharp rings of a teaspoon being tapped against the rim of a mug, shaking off the final drops. “Tea’s ready!”

Col looked at Vik, waiting for something- instruction, probably. Vik gestured forward. “After you, mate.”

. . .

The rest of Vik’s visit passed without incident. The two brothers settled on the sofa so fluidly that Col got the impression they both sat in the exact same place every time. He felt overwhelmed with shame and apprehension as his mistake replayed in his mind. Running at Vik and pinning him to the wall, snapping at him, intending to hurt him. His Master must feel so embarrassed to have such a poorly-behaved pet.

Col knelt behind his owner and stared at nothing, keeping his back straight and his ears on the world outside. Occasionally the cat threatened to distract him with her purring and big eyes, but Colton didn’t allow himself to enjoy the sight of her. She wasn’t for his enjoyment, anyway.

“Come to mine next time, yeah?” Vik asked.

“Sure, it’s been a while. That’d be nice.”

“Alright, well I’ll head off. Nice to meet you, Col.”

Vik’s face appeared in Col’s peripheral vision, and Col looked over, giving him a nod and looking to his owner for permission to speak.

When his Master gave him an encouraging smile, Col said quietly, “Nice to meet you, sir. I’m sorry again.”

“It’s alright, Col,” Master said, reaching down and giving Col’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. Col flinched that time, too. The shame only twisted deeper in his guts. Master turned back to his brother. “I’ll wave you off.”

“You’re always keeping me out of trouble, aren’t you,” replied Vik with a wry smile.

. . .

Linden didn’t have to catch Vik before he walked out the door – they clearly both wanted to have a debrief. Their chat had been more than a little stifled with Colton kneeling right there, ramrod straight, his eyes wide and unfocused. Vik bent to put his shoes back on and stared up at Linden with a face that said what the fuck.

“Yeah,” Linden whispered. “Someone’s clearly done a number on him. Did he hurt you?”

“No, no,” Vik said, unconvincingly. “It was funny anyway. But he really is fierce when he wants to be.”

“At least I know he’s… loyal, now. Not that I took him in to be loyal. Or violent. Ah well.”

“I know, but I get it, it’s good to know he doesn’t want to use any of that strength against you. You’re safe as anything as long as he’s around.”

“Bless him. He’s so nervous all the time. He won’t even pet Jaffa.”

“You’ve got this, mate,” Vik said sincerely. “He’s still new. Maybe you’ve gotta be a bit more clear with things. Next time he looks at Jaffa, just tell him to go and pet her.”

“I’ll try. You should still come round whenever, I’ll tell him not to worry about you.” The thought of Vik almost having his ass handed to him made Linden’s lips curl up again. “Maybe buy a helmet for next time just in case.”

“Oh shut up, I could still batter him and you, you better not start thinking I’m soft. I’ll see you later. And buy him some weights or something, for god’s sake. He’ll go crazy otherwise.”

Linden laughed as Vik headed off. When he walked back into the lounge, Colton was still kneeling. Of course he was – Linden hadn’t ordered him to do anything else.

“Uh…I’m glad you’ve met my brother. Please don’t fret about earlier, Col. You’re genuinely not in trouble. Vik wasn’t mad in the slightest.”

Col didn’t move except to cast his eyes towards Linden’s face. It made him look creepy, like a mannequin. “Thank you, Sir. It won’t happen again. Thank you for this mercy.”

“It might be helpful to mark Vik as someone who’s completely trusted, you know. You don’t have to be afraid when he’s around. You don’t have to be… on high alert. He’s not going to do anything.”

. . .

Col nodded. If Vik made a move to attack, it would be for him, never his Master. Col wasn’t to fight back. “I understand, Sir. Thank you.”

-

taglist part 1:

@newbornwhumperfly @whumpadump1939 @firewheeesky @whump-me-all-night-long @captain-seconds @grizzlie70  @unicornscotty @lave-whump @princessofonwardsworld  @cupcakes-and-pain  @bumbumbea @whumpfigure  @yet-another-heathen  @secretwhumplair  @whumps-up  @as-a-matter-of-whump  @getyourwhumphere  @itzagoodthing @whumpymirages @soapparentlyilikewhumpnow @the-monarch-whumperfly  @penny-for-your-whump  @briars7  @legallylibra @angel-stars  @loyds-of-registry @tears-and-lilies  @badluck990  @rosesareviolentlyread  @vickytokio  @neuro-whump  @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight  @whumpsy-daisies  @control-whump  @theydy-cringeworthy  @starnight-whump @cursedandtired  @jo-doe-seeking-inspo  @justabitofwhump  @glamrockgregory  @rippedjeansandfadeddreams  @genesissane  @justbreakonme  @addyez @httyd-chocolate  @littlespacecastle  @haro-whumps  @extrabitterbrain @neverthelass  @downrivergirl914

[the-whumpening]

Intro Post (v2, Bigger and Better!)

About Me

I’m Ruben, but you can also call me Ruby or any variation of those. I’m a 28 year old bi/pan transmasc guy from the US. I’m also disabled (chronic pain, autism, other stuff) so I have both plenty of time to be online and plenty of barriers to keeping a regular schedule, so your patience is appreciated.

Askbox is open and anon is on! Feel free to send in prompts, asks, and general conversation!

My Ao3 account

Schedule

Aiming to post one chapter a week of The Pet Tiger, usually sometime between Sundays and Tuesdays

If you'd like to be added to a taglist, send me a message or drop a comment with the blog you want tagged!

Asks are open for suggestions, comments, questions, and requests

————————————————————

Writing Masterposts

Tigerverse (fantasy/dnd universe whump, multiple arcs/AUs)

Son of Bat (modern setting, bandmates, injury/sickfic)

Weekly Themed Posts [On Hiatus]

————————————————————

Things you’ll likely find here:

General whump and hurt/comfort

Violence/gore/blood

Non/dubcon and intimate whump

Recovery/injury whump and sickfics

Emotional whump

Occasional emeto triggers

Some pet whump

Male whumpees, whumpers, and caretakers

LGBTQ+ and disabled characters

Not currently here but maybe in the future:

More pet whump/BBU

Carewhumpers

Vampire and/or werewolf fics

More NSFWhump

Lady whumper

Royal setting

Robot whump

Non-whump fics (angst, fluff, smut, etc)

Big maybe: fanworks, probably Fallout or DC Comics

You likely won’t see:

Lady whump (no hate, it’s just not my thing)

Military settings and political intrigue

Fanfic (I greatly prefer writing for OCs, but I could be persuaded)

Minor characters, outside of flashbacks (no judgment, just not my thing)

Religious whump

Superhero/Villian/Team whump (don’t mind reading it, just not interested in writing it)

————————————————————

Some whump blogs I'm loving rn (off the top of my head, I'm sure there's more I'm forgetting!):

@kabie-whump @echo-goes-mmm @secretwhumplair @whumpzone @whumpcereal

@sowhumpshaped @whumpurr @doomeddestination

————————————————————

My Tags:

#rublewriting (All my writing and masterposts, does not include weekly posts)

#not whump (Any post that's not writing, like memes or personal posts)

#rublogging (reblogs of others' posts)

#self rb (self explanatory)

#ruby replies (replying to asks)

#Tigerverse (any of the fics set in that universe, each has their own tag as well)

#Son of Bat (any of the fics set in that universe, each series has its own tag as well)

#Meet the Characters Monday

#Worldbuilding Wednesday

#Fuck It Friday

[maracujatangerine]

89. Leaving

CW: medical, institutional slavery, pet whump, dehumanisation, box boy universe

Coriander was still a bit unsteady when he walked out through the main entrance of the hospital, arm in arm with Lydia and Indira. His long blonde hair intermingling with Lydia’s brown and Indira’s black locks.

The cold air of the overcast winter’s afternoon enveloped them. Lydia took a deep breath in relief.

Leaving the hospital had been undramatic. Indira had changed into her private clothes and wore black jeans with a marine and white knitted woollen jumper. With combined efforts, they had helped Cory change into a dusky orange t-shirt and dark grey joggers. Then, they had just wheeled Coriander to the entrance, left the wheelchair in its designated place, and helped the young man to walk away.

There was no reason for anyone to react. Cory seemed a little bit dizzy, still, but that was hardly out of place at a hospital. His bandaged arm poking out from the sleeve of his black jacket clearly marked him out as a patient, even without the hospital gown. Still, Lydia felt an immense sense of relief as the automatic doors swished closed behind them.

After walking the short distance to Indira’s car, they both helped the pet into the back, behind the driver’s seat. Lydia reached over and buckled Cory’s seat belt for him before closing the door. India sat down in the front and Lydia walked around the car to sit next to Cory in the back.

Both women sighed when they closed the car doors.

“Oh my god.” Lydia laughed. ”That was… something. Good that you are quick at thinking on your feet, Indira!”

Indira nodded, closing her eyes for a second, then smiling at them both.

“It was… a bit more intense than expected. But we got clean x-rays.” She playfully hit the wheel of the car in triumph. “Still a success, I’d say!”

Lydia turned solicitously towards Coriander.

“How are you doing, love? I’m so sorry that it was difficult for you. You were very brave.” She nodded to emphasise her words. “How are you feeling now?”

“T-this pet i-is fine, Miss Lydia.”

Coriander did not look fine. His eyes were still red from crying. He still shivered with long, drawn-out tremors shaking his whole body in an undercurrent of fear. Lydia and Indira had felt him shaking on the way to the car, and the shivers did not seem like they were going to let up any time soon.

“It is all over now. Let’s just go home and take it easy, yeah?” She smiled encouragingly. “I’m very proud of you, and I would like to spoil you for a bit. Maybe we can watch a movie and have a bit of cake, or what do you say?”

“M-maybe t-this pet would like to r-rest for a while.”

“That sounds good. Maybe you can have a little nap?”

Lydia studied Coriander. The lines of pain around his eyes and mouth that had faded over the long time that they had spent together, were once again visible. His face was pale. He looked worn out to the bone. She could see the shivers racking his body, making his hands shake. His hair fell down, covering his eyes. Gently, she reached out to smooth away those tresses, wanting to pet her hand over his hair to calm him.

Coriander jerked away.

Lydia started in surprise.

Grey eyes met hers for a moment, then Cory lowered his gaze.

Very quietly, he spoke.

“P-please, Miss Lydia. T-this p-pet cannot bear to be touched… to be touched right now.”

“Oh.” Lydia slowly let her hand fall. “S-sure.” She said. “That’s totally fine. Whatever feels best for you.”

Indira watched in the rear-view mirror, a sudden, sinking feeling in her stomach.

Coriander sat as far away towards the door as possible. He looked out through the window with a totally impassive face, emotionless and beautiful like a doll.

On the other side of the car, Lydia also looked out the window. She didn’t make a sound, but Indira could see her biting her lower lip hard to keep it from shivering. Her brown eyes wide and blank with tears.

Tag List Part 1: @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-em @whumpzone @wh-wh-whu @neuro-whump @carnagecardinal @cowboy-anon @whump-me-all-night-long @redwingedwhump @myst-in-the-mirror @haro-whumps @eatyourdamnpears @bloodsweatandpotato @pinkraindropsfell @whumptywhumpdump @theydy-cringeworthy @whump-in-progress @whumpsy-daisy @nicolepascaline @whumpcreations @briars7 @shiningstarofwinter @whumppsychology @alex-ember @miss-kitty-whumptastic @whumpy-writings @in-patient-princess @youtube-fandoms-bands @goblinchildindabog @mazeish @distinctlywhumpthing @inpainandsuffering @canniboylism @icannotweave @incoherent-introspection @kim-poce @broken-typewriter @the-monarch-whumperfly @whumpers-inc @grizzlie70 @lil-whumper @writingbackwards-blog @sunflower1000 @wingedwhump @thecitythatdoesntsleep @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @onlybadendings @rabass @wolfeyedwitch @melancholy-in-the-morning

[whumpsday]

Whumpmas in July #19

Create a list of some of your favorite whump blogs to share!

here we go! this is not an exhaustive list by any means, but if i listed every whump blog i adore i'd go over tumblr's tag limit lol. (as it is you already have to separate em into groups of 5 because of tumblr's recent update...)

thank you for all you contribute to this wonderful community :)

individual creators:

@a-crumb-of-whump

@anomalys-taxonomy

@befuddled-calico-whump

@clickerflight

@cupcakes-and-pain

-

@deluxewhump

@demondamage

@fleur-a-whump

@hold-him-down

@honeycollectswhump

-

@lumpofwhump

@not-a-space-alien

@oddsconvert

@oliversrarebooks

@painsandconfusion

-

@peachy-panic

@quietly-by-myself

@re-whump

@seasaltandcopper

@secretwhumplair

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@snakewrites-and-ink

@sowhumpshaped

@t0rture-me

@thoughtsonhurtandcomfort

@whumpcloud

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@whumperstorm

@whumpinthepot

@whumpitisthen

@whump-queen

@whumpwillow

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@whumpycries

@whumpy-writings

@whumpy-wyrms

@whumpzone

@wolfeyedwitch

community events and publishers:

@augusnippets

@febuwhump

@thewhumpyprintingpress

@whumpmasinjuly

@zineofgid