#why am i talking about whump again?

[noirineverysense]

i find the argument that cis male characters are whumped more because they find catharsis in seeing these men get hurt who "deserve it more" so insidious. Truth be told they care about the male characters they hurt, they do it because they like them and find them easier to empathise than women or trans people otherwise they wouldnt go to lengths to depict these men as vulnerable victims who clearly dont! deserve! what happens to them and as characters for the reader/viewer to empathise with and relate to.

if it was about hurting cis men bc you hate them you wouldnt spend time building characters, backstories and plot for them You would make stories about women and trans people where cis men only appear and get hurt to further their plot, you know like how men write female characters.

This argument only gets brought up when people ask where are the women and trans people in these stories. It's deflection and straight up lying to people who just want representation so you can pretend you care about writing characters from marginalised genders when you dont.

[rosyhoneydew]

As Long As You'll Have Me

My entry for day 3 of @bucktommywhumpweek - "You act like you’re expendable. But you’re wrong." | Prompts: Abandonment issues // Forced to leave the other behind

This is pretty brief whump but hopefully it still fits the prompt :)

"Are- Are you going somewhere?" Buck asks, there's a hollow kind of deja vu setting in when he steps into their bedroom to see Tommy packing a small duffle. "You're home!" Tommy says, startling and turning to face Buck. "Yeah, Ravi picked up the rest of my shift. Said he could use the extra hours." Normally he'd walk right up to his boyfriend, kiss him hard, maybe show him exactly how much he missed him during his shift. But right now Buck can't move from the doorway. Because Tommy's packing a bag. "I, uh, thought you'd be a little while still," Tommy says, something like a guilty smile on his face. And Buck... he's not exactly sure what's going on here but he can feel his face getting hot and his heart rate speeding up. He thought things were good with them. Is Tommy not happy? Did he miss the signs? Again? "Hey," Tommy says, "you okay?" "Are you leaving?" Buck asks in lieu of a response. It comes out a little harsher than he planned, but he's focused on not doing something like crying and begging his boyfriend to stay. Tommy sighs. “I wanted to surprise you,” he says, expression softening a bit. “You remember that I call I had up near San Bernadino?”  Yes. A hiker’s mom called in when her daughter didn’t check in along the trail. She’d been out there for a few days at least. Buck remembers the look of relief on his boyfriend’s face when he got home that night, the girl dropped off at the hospital, safe and sound.  “Turns out her mom’s got a place in Big Bear and she thought it would be nice to let me vacation there for a few days, as a thank you.” “Vacation?”  “It was supposed to be a surprise,” Tommy says, smiling and making his way toward Buck. His lightly grabs Buck’s arms, about to lean in for a kiss before he stops. “Is everything alright?” 

“Y- yeah, just…” Buck takes in the room before looking back at Tommy. “You’re not leaving me?”  “Leaving you?” Tommy seems genuinely shocked by the prospect. “No, Evan, no. Why would you think that?”  “Sorry, I’m sorry,” Buck says, shaking his head like he can dislodge the thoughts that way. Tommy rubs his arms and presses a light kiss to Buck’s cheek, seemingly content to wait until Buck is ready to talk. He takes the moment to let the pounding in his heart return to normal. He's not leaving, he's not leaving, he's not leaving. “You remember my ex I told you about, right? Abby?” Buck starts. Tommy nods. “That’s how I found out, when she was going to leave you know? I came home - I was living at her place then too - and her stuff was all in suitcases.” He pauses for a moment, remembering how he had believed her when she said it was just a trip. That she would be back for him. “At the time she had planned to come back, you know? Then she, umm, she didn’t.”  Tommy’s looking at him like his own heart is breaking, and, shit, the last thing he wants is for Tommy to feel bad when he was just trying to plan a surprise for his boyfriend. 

"I know you're not her," Buck clarifies quickly. "I just- I think I saw you packing and I didn't know where you were going and it kind of took my brain a second to catch up."

“Evan, I am so sorry,” Tommy starts. “I had no idea this would stir up those memories for you.”  “Don’t apologize,” Buck says. “Of course you didn’t know. You were just doing something nice.”  Tommy reaches up to rest his hand on the nape of Buck’s neck, softly brushing his thumb there and leaning his forehead against Buck’s.  “I am not leaving you,” he says. “I will never leave you.”  Buck huffs a little laugh at that, because, well, “You say that now.”  Tommy leans back a bit to look Buck in the eye, “Evan,” he says, “I love you, and so long as you’ll have me, I will never leave you.”  Oh. He means… is he saying… Buck lunges forward to wrap Tommy in a kiss, passionate and full of feeling. Tommy's right there to catch him, arms wrapped around him, letting Buck set the pace but never faltering at his intensity. “Let me try this again,” Tommy says with a smile when they part. “Evan, would you like to spend the weekend together in Big Bear? Just the two of us.”  “Yes,” Buck says, only able to peel his eyes away from Tommy’s lips for a moment to say, “I love you.”

[maracujatangerine]

91. A conversation

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

“Cory… I think we need to talk.” Lydia’s tone was cautious. Carefully gentle. “What do you think?”

Coriander had been sitting slumped against the wall on his green pillow in the kitchen. When Lydia spoke, he instantly straightened up.

“Y-yes, Miss Lydia. T-this pet needs to talk. It has been thinking.”

“Okay.”

Lydia sat down in her usual chair, facing him. For quite some time now, she had been more relaxed around Coriander. She had felt able to trust their report and that also he would be less vigilant in interpreting any gesture of hers as a sign of displeasure or censure. Now, however, she once again felt herself hyper aware of her own body language. Do not cross your arms, she reminded herself. Shoulders turned towards him, heart open, posture welcoming. She smiled, and nodded.

“I’m listening. We can talk about whatever you want.”

“T-this pet has been thinking about what.. what has happened to it. About why it is here.”

Coriander rose to his feet, perfectly graceful as usual.

“Miss Lydia, This pet did volunteer, it did. It knows it did.” He pulled a shaking hand through his blonde hair. “T-there w-was a signature, on a paper, and… and…” He shook his head. “T-this pet cannot remember. But.” He looked down at Lydia, grey eyes suddenly fierce. “B-but this pet knows that it wouldn’t have volunteered if it knew. If it knew what it was going to be like. Nobody would volunteer for that.”

He started to pace the kitchen, back and forth, his shaking hands drawn tightly into fists.

“The cold, the beatings, the starvation, the experiments, the violence, the abuse, the contempt, the neglect.” His whole body shaking, he stared unseeing out the window. “The way you are never good enough.”

Lydia could feel her whole chest ache in phantom pain as her heart hurt for him. She wanted to reach out to Cory, but she was also afraid to disturb whatever path he was on. This was probably the first time ever he named the things he’d been going through.

When he just stayed silent, breathing hard, staring out the window, she eventually said, as gently as she could.

“Cory. This is terrible, and I am so sorry that it happened to you. I’m really glad that you can start to talk about it, though. I’m here, and I’m listening to everything you want to talk about.” She paused, and when he showed no sign of even having heard her, she added. “I just want to remind you that this is never going to happen to you ever again. You are safe here.”

He whirled on her, then.

“B-but, Miss Lydia. If nobody w-wanted to buy it, this would not have happened to this pet.” He paused and swallowed. “This would not have happened to me!”

Looking down, he continued. “You have been kind to this pet, that is true. But there is a paper in the drawer there…” He pointed, his whole arm an accusing arc. “That says that you own it. Whatever you want to do to this body…” He hesitated and plunged on. “…to this soul, it is your right to do it.”

Coriander shook his head slowly, grey eyes boring into hers. Very slowly and steadily he said. “Miss Lydia, i-if it wasn’t for you - a-and many more people like you - t-this pet wouldn’t be here.”

He hung his head, then. Exhaustion and a spasm of pain flickering over his face for just an instant. Gritting his teeth, he met her eyes again.

“Miss Lydia, t-this pet needs some time alone. May it be excused to go for a walk?”

Lydia nodded quickly, biting her lip.

“Of course, Cory, whatever you need.”

The blonde young man inclined his head respectfully, but the fire in his grey eyes did not die down.

“Thank you, Mistress.”

Lydia held it together while Coriander went out into the hallway, put on his shoes and coat, and walked out the door.

It was only after she heard the sound of the latch clicking closed that she leant down on the smooth, wooden surface of the kitchen table, hid her face in the crook of her arm, and cried.

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

[mama2bears]

Matters Of The Heart

This was a request messaged to me by @lonewolf830. I am going to try to drag this out and make a little longer story out of your idea. I hope you like the direction it goes!

Pairings: Scott/F.Reader(Scott is an ass), future Tyler/F.Reader

Warnings: A few swear words. Tornado damage. (Future Chapters will have Whump, hurt/comfort, and angst.) Inaccurate weather stuff

Summary: You are new to Storm Par and Tyler Owens is already chasing you. Scott has already asked you out on a date and warned you against Tyler, so you brush off Tyler, believing everything Scott has told you. However, when you are put in danger, it's always Tyler running to your rescue. You begin to wonder if maybe Tyler isn't all that bad after all.

Chapter 1

You were standing in the parking lot, gazing out over the horizon at the building storm clouds. The wind gently blew though your hair. A large group of storm chasers were gathering in preparation for the upcoming expected tornado outbreak across Oklahoma. This was your first day on the job with the Storm Par company. Your job was to track the storm's location and they were to follow it, gather information, and for reason's you didn't yet understand, you were suppose to help get property information on the places that got destroyed.

The sudden blare of country music filled the air along with the roar of an engine. You look up to see a red Dodge Ram pull in followed by a van and RV. A guy in a white cowboy hat and sun glasses gets out as a crowd surround the truck.

“If you feel it....” he yelled.

“CHASE IT!!!” the crowd yells back.

“I said IF YOU FEEL IT....” He yelled a little louder and the crowd responded with “CHASE IT!”

You watched for a few moments as he was laughing and signing autographs as he posed for photos.

“Alright you tornado nerds!” a woman yelled from the RV, holding some shirts up. Everyone flocked to her with money in hand.

You shook your wondering what kind of crazy that group of storm chasers were, and why did it seem like everyone loved them so much. The wind shifted and you turned your attention back to the sky.

“Hey. I'm Tyler. You new to chasing?” a deep voice came from behind.

You turned to see the guy in the white cowboy hat that was just surrounded by a group of fans. You couldn't help but notice the sparkle in his green eyes when he took off his glasses, or the way he smiled, the stumbled face.

“Yeah, first day.” you gave him a soft smile, “I am Y/N.” you extend a hand to him.

His rough callused hand felt strong and warm, yet tender as he shook your hand, “What team you with?” he asked.

“Storm Par.”

“Oh...them.” Tyler rolled his eyes. “You can do better then that, you know.”

“What's wrong with Storm Par? They seem like a really nice company, and the pay is great.”

“Y/N! Let's go!” Scott, your partner barked from across the parking lot.

“Well, gotta go.” you gave Tyler another smile. “It was really nice to meet you. You seem to have quite the following.”

“I do.” he nodded and tipped his cowboy hat at you, “Nice to meet you too, Y/N.”

Standing there, he watched you walk away, his eyes following the movement of your butt swaying. 'Hope to see you again soon.' he thought to himself.

“Hey.” you call to Scott as you get in the truck, “Looks like we need to head west.”

“What the hell were you doing talking to Owens?” Scott yelled, causing you to jump.

“Owens? His name was Tyler.” you say, a bit startled, “He was just being nice, introducing himself.”

“Tyler OWENS is his name, and he's nothing but trouble. Stay away from him.” Scott muttered, looking at the data on the laptop you held. “You sure about the west? I think the East holds more promise.” he muttered.

“Go west. Trust me.” you smile at him.

“Fine. West it is. But if you're wrong, it's your ass. Not mine.” He sped out of the parking lot.

“Come on. Let's go.” Tyler jumped into the truck, seeing the same thing you just had. “We're going west.”

“What's so wrong with Tyler?” you ask once on the road.

“He's Mr. YouTube star. He sells merch to make a buck off of everyone. He's got a new girl every night it seems. He thinks he's some Mr. Big shot, better then everyone else. He reels you in with that Mr. Nice Guy act and then he uses you for whatever you're good for and tosses you out like trash.”

“Oh.” you are taken aback by Scott's harsh words. Tyler didn't come across as that type of person from your first meeting, but...that was one meeting. He was selling stuff and he did have a large following. You could believe what Scott was telling you. After all, Scott had been doing this for several years and probably knew Tyler a lot better then you would have from just a quick meeting. “Thanks for the warning.” you gave a smile to Scott.

“Oh come on, you didn't actually fall for his act? Did you?” Scott looked over at you with a look of disbelief.

“Well...I mean...he wasn't bad to look at and he was nice.” you grin with a shrug.

“Really, Y/N? I thought you were smarter then that.”

“Make a right here.” you say. “I was just going off my first impression. I am sure I would have figured him out pretty quickly on my own...but seriously, thank you for the warning. I can avoid that heartbreak.”

Scott pulls off to the right and follows a dirt road. “Avoid him all together. He's bad news.” he muttered, “Hey, if you want to go out and have a good time, let me know. I'll take you out. I am not a womanizer like he is.”

“Oh, is that so?” you grin, “You mean to tell me someone as nice looking as you doesn't have a girlfriend?”

“Nope.” Scott shook his head, “Not many girls want to go chasing after tornadoes.” he shoots you a look, his eyes seemly undressing you and he grins, “What you say, sweetie? Go out with me tonight?”

You shrug, “Okay, sure. If it's not against company policy or anything.”

“Not at all.” Scott grins, “We'll go down to the Reno bar tonight. It's right down the road from the hotel. Sound good?”

“Sure...” you start to say and then scream, “SCOTT! WATCH OUT!”

Music blasts from the speakers as Tyler's red Dodge Ram cuts you off. He is yelling something at you, but over the music and Scott cussing, you can't hear what it is...you don't really care at the moment.

“Asshole!” Scott was yelling as he fought to get the truck back on the road.

Suddenly, Tyler turned his truck sideways, blocking your path.

“What the HELL man!” Scott rolls down his window yelling.

“TURN AROUND! It's an EF 5 up ahead! Check your data again. You can't drive THAT truck into an EF5! I wouldn't drive MY truck into one. TURN AROUND!” Tyler yelled.

“Fuck you man!” Scott tried to drive around but Tyler pulled forward, bumping into the white Storm Par truck.

“Listen, if you want to get yourself killed, go for it! But don't be taking her into that!” Tyler yelled, his eyes locking on yours. “Y/N, check the data. Am I right?”

You frantically punch the keys on the laptop refreshing the screen. “Oh my God.” you gasp. “Scott, he's right. It's MASSIVE! We gotta turn around.”

“Fine...Whatever.” Scott turns the truck around and glares at you, “Why the hell did you tell me to go this way if it's an EF5! YOU told me to turn right. I did that!”

“It wasn't that big when I checked it last! It just blew up!” you try to defend yourself. This was a great first impression. “Sorry.” you muttered.

“Just...pay more attention next time.” he said.

“I will.” you mutter, refreshing the feed again on the laptop, “Looks like the tornado is moving to the west. It's out of the town now. We should go back there and see if we can be of any help. I can't imagine the destruction..”

Scott pulls the truck into a parking lot and glares at you, “If you are going to work with Storm Par, you've got to understand time is money. We don't get paid to help people. We get paid for the storm data, we get paid for the property data...we don't get paid to help. That's someone else's job...not ours.”

You nod and he turns around heading back into town. As you drive though, you see houses and businesses completely leveled. You notice Tyler's truck parked among the rumble and he was climbing over a destroyed house calling for what you guessed was a dog. The woman from the RV was selling stuff from the back of it and another girl was walking around with food and water, passing them out.

It looked like they were helping, but you also could see what Scott said about them selling stuff was true.

“It's all a show.” Scott's voice cuts into your thoughts. “They brag about how much they help so they can get more money from their followers and more people will want to buy shirts. They aren't really helping, they're only promoting themselves.” he scoffed.

You sigh as he stops the truck, “Here. Go give our card to everyone who's lost their home or business. Tell them we make cash offers for their properties. Get information from all who are interested and then run some numbers for us. See what the property value is and make sure we find out what kind of insurance they have.”

“Scott, are you sure this is the right time for that? I mean, they JUST lost everything...should we really be swooping in offering to buy whatever they have left?” you frown. Your heart broke for these people and this idea just wasn't sitting right with you.

“It's our job. It's what we do.” Scott sighed, “Seriously Y/N. I thought you were excited about this job! So far all you've done was almost got us killed and complained! If we don't get to them now someone else will and we will lose out on that money.”

“Alright. You're right. I am sorry. I am just trying to learn this job.” you sigh and get out of the truck, walking up to a lady and introducing yourself. She was in tears. “I am so sorry. If you need anything, call us at Storm Par.” you give her a hug. “Did you have insurance on the house?”

“No.” the woman cried shaking her head.

“I am so sorry.” your heart broke for her, “Storm Par would be willing to make a cash offer on your land. If that's the road you want to take, give us a call.”

“Okay.” she mumbled, and walked away calling for her cat.

“Hey, Y/N...close call there.” Tyler jogged up to your side. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Thank you. For stopping us. It's my fault, I should have been paying attention.”

Tyler frowned, “It's not your fault. That storm just exploded. We were following it too. It didn't look that big and then wham, all of a sudden it was a monster. Once you guys got turned around we drove on into town to try to warn as many people as possible and get them into shelter.”

You nod, “And sell your brand, I see.”

“What's that suppose to mean?” Tyler frowned.

“Don't worry. Scott told me all about you and what you do.” you turn and walk away in a huff.

“Did he also tell you what Storm Par is all about?” Tyler yelled after you.

“Hey there, beautiful.” Scott runs up to you after seeing that you were talking to Tyler, “Is he bothering you again?”

“Nothing I can't handle.” you smile at Scott, “I am really sorry I messed things up before.”

“It's okay. It's your first day. You'll learn. What did you find out on the properties?” he asked.

“That lady there has no insurance. I gave her a card and told her Storm Par would be interested.”

“Good girl. See, you're getting it.” Scott pulls you into a hug and looks back to see Tyler glaring at him. He gives you a quick kiss on the cheek, “I am looking forward to our date tonight.”

You blush slightly as Scott winks at you and jogs back to the truck.

“Hey, you want water or food or anything?” A girl asks. You recognize her as one of the people on Tyler's crew. “No, I am good. I am not giving you any money.”

“It's not about the money. We give away food and water when we get to a disaster scene. That's why we sell the merchandise. We sell to those who are able to afford to buy it. We give to those who can not. We give away almost as many shirts as we sell. The money we get from the sales goes to buy food and water for the victims and volunteers helping.”

“Oh. I had heard something different.” you say, “I am still okay. We've got stuff back in the truck and I am heading there to run some numbers for them.”

“Okay, whatever. If you change your mind come on over. We have plenty.” she walked away, handing out a sandwich and water to the woman you spoke to earlier.

You walk slowly back to the truck and get in, hearing Scott talking to someone on the phone about buying properties and who didn't have good insurance and those who did. Scott hanged up and gave you smile. “Let's go get something to eat.”

“I don't think that's a great idea right now.” you say, looking at the radar. “Look, this cell to the south is looking bad.”

Scott glances at it and shrugs, “I've seen worse. Let's go. I am hungry.”

Tyler looks at the sky to the south and watches as Scott turns and heads directly into the oncoming storm.

“Shit.” he muttered, then turned and waved at his team. “I'll be back in a bit.” he called and ran to his truck, firing it up and taking off after you and Scott. He didn't care if Scott wanted to get himself killed, but he'd be damned if he was going to let you be put in danger because of it.

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

Hi, big fan of your work in the whump community :3

Do you have any prompts/thoughts for one of my favorite phrases: "I thought you were dead" ?

thank you so much!!

dialogue prompts in responses to ❝I thought you were dead.❞

❝I’m not dead, babe. I just ghosted you.❞

❝cheating death is what I do for a living.❞

❝that was weeks ago/months ago. people change.❞

❝not dead. I am Death.❞

❝and it sucked. being on the verge of death. would not recommend.❞

❝that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. I literally cannot die.❞

❝no, but you will be if you don’t start running.❞

❝a bullet to the heart can’t kill me. you, out of all people, should have known my heart has already been blackened and dried up a very long time ago.❞

❝surprise, bitch. I bet you thought you’d seen the last of me.❞ (the classic one, I couldn’t not add this.)

❝of course, you did. after all, it was you who tried to kill me.❞

❝darling, you’re going to have to try harder than that.❞

❝this is gonna sound crazy, but I am dead, and apparently I’m assigned to be your guardian angel now.❞

❝you know I’m not actually real, right?❞

❝no, you left me to die. I was just a survivor.❞

❝yeah, yeah, I heard that before.❞

❝I am.❞

❝did you really have so little faith in me?❞

❝me too! another thing we have in common.❞

❝I did, but it turned out death didn’t want me.❞

❝who’s going to look after you if I’m dead?❞

❝I’ll always come back to you.❞

❝dead? it was just a cut on a finger. stop being so dramatic.❞

❝sorry to disappoint.❞

❝boo.❞

❝you’ve made sure of that, haven’t you?❞

❝I’m stubborn just like that.❞

❝is it because I disappeared from your life for 20 years?❞

❝why? what happened? why would you think that?❞

❝oh, I am. and so are you. welcome to the land of the dead.❞

❝I’m a ghost, and I need your help.❞

❝I don’t have much time. you have to find my murderer.❞

❝I am. you’re just hallucinating.❞

❝if I am dead and you’re talking to me, doesn’t it mean you’re dead, too?❞

❝I’m not Dead. I’m (insert character’s name).❞

❝I did. I just crawled out of hell.❞

❝hell was boring anyway. so here I am.❞

❝you can’t get rid of me that easily.❞

❝nothing could kill me. not even death.❞

❝you know I’d never leave you.❞

❝God says it’s not my time.❞

❝well, this is awkward.❞

❝oh, I am. I’m here to take you with me.❞

❝did you cry?❞

❝did you mourn?❞

❝oh please, I was gone for less than an hour.❞

❝there’s been a misunderstanding. It wasn’t me who died.❞

❝I understand why you’d think that.❞

❝I can explain.❞

❝I am, and you will be just as dead as I am if you don’t turn around right now.❞

❝you’re not gonna believe what I saw on the other side.❞

❝why? you already replaced me?❞

❝I was hoping so too.❞

❝I really need to stop dying. let me tell you that shit is not fun.❞

❝I’m sorry if my survival is so inconvenient for you.❞

❝I have always been dead.❞

❝I died a long time ago, actually.❞

❝what are you going to do about that? try and kill me again? because it certainly didn’t work the first 6 times. but hey! maybe seventh time’s a charm!❞

❝I fooled you, didn’t I?❞

❝I’m not going anywhere.❞

❝I’m sorry. do I know you?❞

❝it’s a long story.❞

[pastafossa]

🌊TUNA-TOBER🌊 PROMPT CHALLENGE 2024 🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟

Hello friends! So last month I realized that one of the reasons I'm struggling to get my writing back up to my old speed is I am seriously out of practice since Dec/Jan when shit went down and I stopped writing for a while. After some thought, I decided I was gonna set up a little prompt challenge for myself, just a general, 'here's a prompt a day' thing for about a month. And I tossed this idea out onto my fave Daredevil discord server to see if anyone would want to join. And I'm happy to say there were takers, including some of my favorite writers in the fandom! So I've set up a delicious prompt challenge for all of us, and for anyone else who wants to take part.

For each day in October, there are three prompts: an 🌧️angst/whump prompt🌧️, a 🌻fluff prompt🌻, and a 🔥kink prompt🔥. Participants are free to choose which one of the prompts they want to write or make art of, or they can try to incorporate two, or even all three prompts into a single fic or art piece. They can write a short fic/make art every day, or just on whichever days they feel like (personally I'm going to shoot for one fic a day, but we'll see), or even incorporate those prompts into the chapters of longer fics. There are also four 'backup' prompt options for each category in case anyone hits a day or prompt where they aren't really feeling what's available on the chosen day. If any of these prompts inspire you, you can feel free to take on the Tuna-Tober challenge even if you're not in the server! This challenge is also not fandom-specific (although I have a feeling I'm mostly gonna write Charlie Cox characters, a surprise to precisely zero people, but again, we'll see).

Sometime this week, I'll be setting up a sideblog specifically for Tuna-Tober. That sideblog blog will reblog any Tuna-Tober fics/art or link to those fics that are posted on Ao3 so they'll all be easy to find. That blog will also have instructions for how to tag your Tuna-Tober fics and/or art pieces. If you'd like to be notified when that sideblog is up so you can follow it, let me know in the comments.

Without further ado: our Tuna-Tober prompts!

🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟

Day 1: Falling Asleep In A Hospital Room ⚜ Reading To Each Other ⚜ Somnophilia

Day 2: “Why? Why do you love me?” ⚜ Flower Crowns ⚜ Mutual Masturbation

Day 3: Broken ⚜ “I feel real when i’m with you.” ⚜ Role Reversal

Day 4: “This isn’t you.” ⚜ “Are you blushing?” ⚜ Sixty-Nine

Day 5: Self-Loathing ⚜ Watergun Fight ⚜ Begging

Day 6: "Shh, I've got you now. I'm here." ⚜ Love Bites ⚜ “Spread your legs for me.”

Day 7: Nightmare ⚜ Honest Apology ⚜ Nothing Underneath

Day 8: Shaking ⚜ “You can sleep here tonight.” ⚜ Overstimulation

Day 9: Anxiety ⚜ “You don’t need to do that.” “I want to.” ⚜ “Open your mouth.”

Day 10: "I'm not good enough." ⚜ A Hug That Lasts A Little Too Long ⚜ Strap-on/Pegging

Day 11: Tears ⚜ “I’d be lost without you.” ⚜ Breast Worship

Day 12: "I did it for you.” ⚜ “You remembered?” ⚜ Deep-Throating

Day 13: Loneliness ⚜ Playful Kiss ⚜ “Beg me for it.”

Day 14: "Please look at me." ⚜ Sleep Talking ⚜ Accidental Stimulation

Day 15: Hiding An Injury ⚜ “Are you jealous?” ⚜ Threesome

Day 16: Exhaustion ⚜ Accidental Kiss ⚜ Against A Window

Day 17: "I'm not leaving you." ⚜ Tickling ⚜ “Touch yourself for me.”

Day 18: Scars ⚜ Pillow Fort ⚜ “I’m so proud of you, you’re taking me so well.”

Day 19: Touch starved ⚜ “I’ll always be there for you.” ⚜ Gags

Day 20: "Who did this to you?" ⚜ There Was Only One Bed ⚜ “You were made for me, weren’t you?”

Day 21: Fainting/Collapsing ⚜ Flustered ⚜ “Was that an order?”

Day 22: "You haven't done anything wrong." ⚜ Breathless Kiss ⚜ Aphrodisiacs

Day 23: Father ⚜ “If you won’t take care of yourself, I will.” ⚜ Toys

Day 24: Drugged ⚜ Drunken Confession ⚜ “Shh, do you want them to hear us?”

Day 25: "What's Wrong?" ⚜ Playing With Their Hair ⚜ “Did I say you could do that?”

Day 26: "You're not fine." ⚜ “Shut up and kiss me.” ⚜ Under The Desk

Day 27: Near Death Experience ⚜ Overheard Confession ⚜ “Let me see what that pretty mouth can do.”

Day 28: Chronic Pain ⚜ Sharing An Umbrella ⚜ Hair Pulling

Day 29: "Talk to me, please." ⚜ Forehead Kiss ⚜ Restraints

Day 30: Healing ⚜ Road Trip ⚜ “Take it off. Slowly.”

Day 31: "Why wasn't I enough?" ⚜ Blanket Hog ⚜ Stockings/Thigh Highs

🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟

🌊Tuna-Tober🌊 Backup Prompts:

Bound/Chained ⚜ Moving In Together ⚜ Almost Getting Caught

"Take me instead." ⚜ “I’m in love with you, and that scares me.” ⚜ High Heels

Insomnia ⚜ Adopting A Pet ⚜ Scent Marking

"You're not alone." ⚜ Playing A Game Together ⚜ Ass Worship

🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟

[steddieas-shegoes]

Hello ❤️ I know you’re back home and I think are doing these on an as-you-can basis. If you’re just completely done, let me know! But I got in my feelings today about always being the third wheel and of course my brain wants to whump Steve about it, so here’s two lines from a conversation I had with a friend:

“When do I stop being a last resort?”

And

“When will I get people who care the way I care?”

Again, if you’re not doing these any more, that’s completely fine! Just thought I’d submit these in case you are. Feel free to use one or the other, or both! ❤️

Hello my star ✨ I am technically not doing them, but it kinda sounds like we both maybe need this one and I'm gonna use this a lowkey plug for everyone to consider participating in the @steddiemicrofic challenge. I'm going with the first one because I believe that even at Steve's lowest, he knows he has Robin to care about him a whole lot ❤️

----------

When the dust settles, when everyone seems to find a new rhythm, when they don't always look over their shoulder and wait for the next world-ending crisis, Steve finds himself alone a lot.

When Robin leaves for college, he finds himself alone most of the time.

The kids are back in school, everyone except Jonathan and Eddie have gone off to college, and those two seem to get along just fine without Steve inserting himself into their friendship.

They still come hang out with him sometimes, usually when they wanna rent a movie using his discount, or if Eddie wants to borrow his dining room for Hellfire.

The worst part is he says yes, puts a smile on his face, pretends he's happy just to get some attention, any attention.

And he is a little happy. Some attention is better than none, especially for a lonely person like him.

He watched everyone around him have each other, while he has himself.

He talks to Robin every other night, but he feels like he's burdening her, but would never say that. He just waits for her to stop answering the calls.

It all comes to a head one evening when Eddie is over at his house late, still cleaning up after Hellfire.

Steve had a bad week at work, customers just being rude over nothing, a migraine two days in a row, and now Eddie dragging his feet to leave.

The worst part? He didn't want him to leave.

Just the thought of another night alone had him tearing up.

He made sure to stay facing away from Eddie, unable to stop the tears from falling, but at least able to stay quiet.

Not quiet enough.

"Steve? What's wrong?"

He sounded so concerned.

"Nothing. Just a little overtired. Head still hurts a little. You know how it is."

He couldn't quite laugh it off, the sound more of a choked sob than anything.

Eddie's hands were on his shoulders, turning him around so he had no choice but to look at him, his worried gaze more than Steve expected.

"What's actually wrong?"

So much.

"When do I stop being a last resort?"

He hadn't meant to say that. He certainly didn't expect Eddie's reaction: pulling him close to his chest, his grip on his back and hair enough to make Steve sink into it.

He hadn't been hugged since Robin left for college.

"What do you mean? You're not a last resort."

"I'm no one's first choice. You only come here because I have the most room. The kids only ever call if they need a ride somewhere. I think at this point Robin only talks to me so she knows I'm alive."

The words were hard to get out but he did it. He felt slightly better just knowing he'd said them.

"Fuck. We've- I've been so stupid."

Steve pulled away.

"I just thought you wanted your space. We're done fighting monsters, so you can go back to just being Steve Harrington. I don't think any of us thought you still wanted to be around us. But we've taken what we thought we could get."

"What? Why would anyone think that?"

"Because you only got involved in all this protect people. Now you don't have to."

"I protected everyone because I cared. Why would I just stop caring?"

"When you put it like that, it sounds stupid."

Steve rolled his eyes.

"Because it is stupid."

"So you do want us around?"

"Yes! I thought no one wanted me around anymore since they didn't need me."

Eddie shook his head, disappointment settling over him.

"That's so far from the truth. Dustin was upset the other day because he was convinced you were going to start telling him no when he asked for rides and he didn't know how else to see you."

Steve let it sink in, the words and the way Eddie still hadn't let go of him completely, still had his hands resting on his lower back as Steve looked up at him.

"For a smart kid, he sure is dumb."

Eddie laughed loudly, smiling down at Steve as some of the tension released from his body.

"I guess we all are."

"Including me."

"You're very loved, Steve. By all of us."

"All of you?"

"Yes. All."

[bloody-cupcakes]

Whump one shot; Whumpee begs to be hit, much to the dismay of Caretaker

Tw: unhealthy behavior demonstrated by Whumpee that includes wanting/begging to be hit by Caretaker to the point of bleeding/bruising, implications of self harm (it's not said what kind), Caretaker is understandably worried/concerned

A/N: I was struck by sudden inspiration from all the whump prompts that I see on my dashboard so i wrote something whumpish as a result 🤗 I've never written anything in this format before so I have no idea if this is good or not tbh (also technically it's unfinished but I don't plan on expanding/adding anything to it for the time being so 🤷‍♂️)

"Hit me."

Caretaker's brow furrowed in confusion at the question. They thought for sure they had misheard Whumpee, but the look on their face was deadly serious. "I- what?"

"Hit me," Whumpee repeated in a firmer tone as they stood in front of Caretaker. "C'mon, just once. You don't even have to do it that hard."

Sputtering, Caretaker responded with, "I- I'm not going to hit you! Why would I ever do that?"

'What is wrong with you' was the next question Caretaker wanted so desperately to ask, but luckily for them they were able to keep it on the tip of their tongue so they wouldn't make Whumpee's current attitude go from bad to worse.

"Well, why not?"

That was something they definitely weren't expecting. They didn't think Whumpee would get mad, of all things, for refusing to hit them.

"Because I don't want to hurt you," they explained earnestly, hoping that would be enough.

Whumpee merely scoffed and shook their head. "I thought you were my friend. I thought you cared about me."

Caretaker's confusion only grew at the accusation that Whumpee wasn't their friend. "What are you talking about? Of course I am. I just..."

Their sentence trailed off, and while they were quiet Whumpee took that as an opportunity to speak again.

"If you were really my friend, you'd do this for me. You'd help me. It's not like I'm asking you to beat the shit out of me or something, I just want you to hit me a little bit. Just enough to leave a small bruise or cut. Just enough for it to hurt, and bleed."

They were scarily calm and sincere when speaking, something that alarmed Caretaker greatly. "But... I still don't understand why. Why would you ever want that?"

The sigh of disappointment Whumpee let out nearly broke Caretaker's heart, but they tried not to let it show. "I want it because I have too much going on in my mind right now, way too much for me to handle. And I need something to use as a distraction. I know you don't like it when I hurt myself, so I figured if you hurt me everything would cancel out, and it'd all be fine."

That made since, Caretaker supposed. They still didn't quite like the idea of hurting Whumpee, even if they were consenting to it, but if they were certain it would help...

"Okay, fine. If... if you really think that it'll help, then I will. I- I want to help you."

It was hard for Whumpee to keep from grinning as Caretaker finally cracked, giving in to their request.

[mj-iza-writer]

I’ve been thinking about caretaker saying “you’re not so scary anymore huh?” To non human whumpee being captive or in a lab

The whumpee may not be able to talk but caretaker can notice by their eyes and by their body language that they’ve lost the fighting spirit. So human caretaker starts to let down their guard and finally start taking care of whumpee

Anyways i love your writing so much❤️

I know I say this a lot, but this one was a fun one. Thankyou so much forbthe ask, and I'm glad you enjoy my writing.

Lab Whump.... again. I'm sorry it's such a fun trope. You can literally do anything you want. -MJ

Caretaker sat in their office looking over notes from a recent transfer to their lab.

The monster came from a lab a few cities over. It had to be closed due to malpractice, Caretaker's lab was the only lab trusted to take on the beast.

The more Caretaker read, and the louder the banging down the hall occurred, the more Caretaker regretted taking that thing in.

The vehicle it was transferred in had to be retired because of the welts that the monster had caused.

"I don't understand why they didn't tranquilize it before the transfer. Less headache and stress for everyone", Caretaker stood to leave their office, "I guess that's why they closed for malpractice. Absolute idiots", Caretaker sighed.

Caretaker walked past the door of the room they had contained the monster in. A type of quarantine until their room was finished.

"I hope that gets done soon. This door might not hold", Caretaker ran their finger along the welts, "that is reinforced steel."

Caretaker walked into the viewing room, and had the guards pull up the video feed.

"Oh, they've stopped banging", Caretaker watched the footage, "they must have gotten tired."

The guards nodded.

"What is its name again?", a guard turned.

"Uhm, Whumpee", Caretaker frowned, "I might try to sneak it some food while it's tired."

"You're going to feed them", another guard looked at them in shock.

"Yes, can't let them starve. They're here to be taken care of", Caretaker turned, "from what the notes say, they have been subjected to many test and abuse. They're probably terrified that the same will happen here. Maybe they will become more manageable if we get them comfortable here and with us."

Caretaker quietly opened the door to the cell and tiptoed to a table to set the meal down.

They saw that the creature was asleep and, against their better judgment, carefully walked toward them.

'I've not gotten a close look at you yet', they thought to themself, 'I don't even know what I'm working with here.'

Whumpee opened their eyes and looked right at Caretaker.

"Crap", Caretaker gulped.

They both stared at each other for a few seconds before Caretaker tried to walk backward to get away.

Whumpee was quick to get up and chase Caretaker.

Guards quickly opened the door, providing an exit for Caretaker.

Caretaker didn't escape unscathed, though. Whumpee managed to claw at their back before they got out.

"What would you like to do with them?", the guard slammed the door closed and frowned as Whumpee started to claw and bang, "we can't just let them do that."

"Absolutely nothing. I startled them, and they reacted. I should have not gotten that close, I knew that while I was doing it", Caretaker sighed, "I think I need med."

"They tore through your lab coat and shirt. You have four deep cuts down your back", a guard started to follow Caretaker to medbay, "your bleeding doc."

"Trust me, I am fully aware", Caretaker sighed, "nothing happens to them, but from what I just felt. That room needs to be finished pronto, and we need to make sure it is equipped to handle them."

The guards talked as Whumpee paced throughout the room until they finally found the food. Whumpee seemed to relax once they had a few bites.

"They must have been starving", a guard frowned, "we'll record and update Caretaker once they finish in med."

Caretaker sat impatiently while their cuts were treated with stitches and staples.

"That beast may be better off being put down. This is insane", the doctor frowned.

"I have considered putting in the request, but it just doesn't seem fair to do it to them. They went through a lot of things at the last place. I would love to give them a better quality of life here", Caretaker sighed.

"Well, you need to think about yourself too... if the guards hadn't been there, you could have gotten hurt or even worse", the doctor tied the last knot, "consider this their warning to you. They are not to be messed with."

Caretaker nodded, "I'm going to get a new lab coat now."

The guards stormed the room Whumpee was in. Their guns raised, ready to fire.

Whumpee was shot several times with the tranquilizer darts.

"I told you all only three darts maximum. Are we trying to kill them?", Caretaker took their stethoscope out and listened to Whumpee.

"I don't even know what a normal read is for them", Caretaker sighed, "I hope that's normal."

Whumpee's new room was a bigger space for them to move in. It would be separated from the door by metal bars so people could get in and study them closer, but safely.

Everyone groaned as they rolled Whumpee onto a gurney.

"That's solid muscle under the fur", a guard commented as they looked at Caretaker, "you should have helped."

"Yeah, and pop a stitch... do you want the doctor to kill me", Caretaker smirked.

"I would like to weigh them before we get them situated. We really have no information on this one. I need some base levels to work with. Urine and blood would be nice, but I'm not going to push it."

"Uh, do you need a stool sample from them? I think I just stepped in one", someone grunted in disgust.

"I'll come back for it", Caretaker chuckled, "sorry about the shoe. Good luck cleaning it. Can I ask you to wear one of these so you're not dragging feces around the lab", Caretaker handed them a shoe cover.

Whumpee was left inside of their new cell. It was slow for them to come out of their unconsciousness.

"Yes, definitely way too many darts. We definitely shouldn't have used that many. Next time we start with one and add more if needed", Caretaker watched from the cameras.

Whumpee moved around the room to investigate.

"They seem comfortable", Caretaker marveled.

"Maybe they like the openess of the room a bit better. The holding room probably felt cramped. This is a little more roomie", a fellow scientist commented, "they may even realize that this is for them."

"Maybe", Caretaker agreed, "I think I'm going to go sit with them for a while. They do need to get use to our presence, but they also need to learn they are not here to be hurt."

"Just don't do anything dumb. I already know about your back", the scientist smirked.

"Yes sir", Caretaker winked.

Caretaker stopped by a vending machine to get chips and a drink. They missed lunch because of the room change.

Whumpee looked up and growled when Caretaker came in.

"It's okay, I'm not here to hurt you. Just thought you'd like some company", Caretaker was pulling in a chair, "for the sake of my back, I'll be staying on this side of the bars", Caretaker laughed.

Whumpee kept a trained eye on every movement Caretaker made.

'Who is this strange person', Whumpee leaned up against the wall, far away from the stranger. They didn't trust anyone in a lab coat. To many people hurt them while wearing one.

A bag started to rustle, causing Whumpee to back into the wall even more.

"I'm sorry, it's just a bag of food", Caretaker saw how frightened Whumpee was, "just some chips."

Caretaker held a chip up, "see, they're really crunchy", Caretaker tried to talk in a soothing voice.

Whumpee cocked their head to the side and lowered themself to the floor.

"Do you want to try some", Caretaker pulled one out and went to the edge of the bars.

They reached in and flicked the chip toward Whumpee.

Whumpee looked at it for a few seconds, contemplating what to do. They watched Caretaker turn and walk back to the chair.

In that moment, they got up, ran, and grabbed the treat, then back to their spot.

Caretaker had heard them running, and by reflex, they braced themself tonbe attacked again.

Caretaker was quite confused when they heard the chip being munched on.

They turned and saw that Whumpee was looking at them with amusement.

"Oh, you think it's funny, hmm", Caretaker smirked, "do you want more?"

Caretaker reached for the bag of chips and walked back to the bars. They then knelt down.

"You're gonna have to come get them if you do", Caretaker reached another chip through the gate, "let's build some trust between the both of us."

Whumpee looked at the chip, then at Caretaker. They slowly stepped closer and closer, taking constant stops to reassess the situation.

Finally they got close enough and stretched for the offered treat.

They never remembered the other white coat wearers offering snacks. They even finally had constant meals again.

Caretaker smiled while Whumpee munched on the chip.

Whumpee saw another one was offered, they inched even closer and grabbed it.

Caretaker started to reach for another chip when Whumpee reached out of the bars and grabbed the bag.

"Wait", Caretaker tried to grab the bag from them, but they were too late. Whumpee was already at the other side of the room looking at the bag happily.

Caretaker watched as Whumpee studied the bag for a few moments before sticking their giant clawed hand into it.

"Try to dump it into your mouth", Caretaker watched as they struggled.

Whumpee looked at them sadly.

"Like this Whumpee", Caretaker acted as though they were pouring chips into their mouth.

Whumpee still tried to pull chips out of the bag.

They huffed and grunted in frustration.

"Come here, I can help you", Caretaker sighed, "don't worry, you earned those fair and square. I can help feed you."

Whumpee looked at the bag again in defeat before cautiously crawling to Caretaker and handing them the bag.

They looked down shamefully while Caretaker straightened the bag out and started to put chips through the bars.

Whumpee carefully took each chip and munched away. They seemed to be completely relaxed for the first time since arriving.

When the bag was emptied, Caretaker gently folded it a few times before slipping it into their pocket.

Whumpee looked at the pocket longingly before giving a pitiful, doe-eyed look to Caretaker.

"Those were pretty good, hmm?", Caretaker smiled, "we can have more tomorrow. We need to probably set to work on a diet plan for you."

Whumpee looked around the room, then yawned.

"Yeah, are you sleepy?", Caretaker smiled, "you probably are. This has been stressful for you, I'm sure."

Whumpee's eyes connected with Caretaker's again.

"I wonder if you'll let me", Caretaker cautiously slid their hand through the bar and held it their.

Whumpee sniffed it a few times to see if there were any treats left.

Once satisfied that the treats were gone, Whumpee sat back down a few inches from the hand and stared at Caretaker.

"Well, I'm not currently being gnawed, so thats a plus", Caretaker started to pull their hand away but was surprised when Whumpee seemed to follow their hand.

"Did you want me to leave my hand in the...",

Whumpee suddenly nudged into the hand and rubbed their head up and down and side to side.

"Oh", Caretaker smiled in astonishment.

Whumpee rubbed more vigorously when Caretaker shaped their hand to scratch Whumpee's head.

The guards watching the video feed almost jumped from their seats with excitement.

Whumpee stopped and looked at Caretaker with relief.

"I'm sure that felt good. I don't think you have the movement capabilities to reach that spot very well", Caretaker smiled, "do you want more?", they opened their hand again and smiled as Whumpee started to get close.

Whumpee laid down against the bars and looked at Caretaker expectantly and hopeful.

"Oh, you just want all of my attention now", Caretaker started to pet and scratch on Whumpee, "you're not so scary anymore, huh?"

Whumpee sighed in relief and contentment.

After an hour, Caretaker could hear Whumpee snoring. They gave a few soft pats to Whumpee's side as they sat down and started to note what had happened.

They noted several spaces they had felt for observation, and even upon closer inspection, they noted possible growth of horns on Whumpee's head. They grew just above Whumpee's ears.

"What was that?", everyone turned to Caretaker when they walked in.

"An amazing breakthrough", Caretaker grinned, "I couldn't believe it, but they definitely looked relieved. Their are definitely some areas we need to follow up on, but I think we can build trust and get them back to health."

Caretaker went back daily with bags of chips. As they interacted with Whumpee, other scientists and doctors were able to get close looks over the beast.

It wasn't long before proper medicine could be administered.

After weeks, Whumpee seemed to be so much happier. They didn't fight anymore. They became like a lab pet almost.

They could often be found following Caretaker down the halls or sleeping on a bed in Caretaker's office while Caretaker worked.

Normally, an opened bag of chips or other treats was nearby.

Caretaker would always watch over Whumpee now, so happy they didn't change their mind or decide to put them down because of their difficult start together.

This was so much better for everyone involved.

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots

@whumpbump @everythingsscary

@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee

@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers

@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas

@lumpofsand @watermeezer

@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains

@3-2-whump @risk606

@electrons2006 @paperprinxe

@whumprince @kaz-of-crows

@mis-graves @decaffeinatedtimetraveler94

@sausages-things @sunglasses-in-the-bentley

@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud

@valravnthefrenchie

[whumpshaped]

tw conditioning, pet whump, captivity, starvation

"What are you?"

"Fuck off," Whumpee spat. Whumper looked unfazed. They weren't the one starved and dehydrated, of course, why would they be fazed?

"What are you?"

"Just give me the fucking water, man! Dead, dead is what I am if you don't fucking give me that!"

"What are you?"

If Whumpee had any water left in their body, they would've cried. This was so messed up and stupid. They resolved not to answer this time, because to Whumper's credit, at least they never repeated their stupid question if they didn't give a 'wrong' answer.

The silence stretched between them, only ever unnerving one of them. The one who had something to lose. Whumpee's eyes were fixed on the water bottle, and they subconsciously licked their mouth. They were so thirsty.

"A pet," they muttered eventually. Whumper didn't look smug at all, nor pleased.

"What are you?"

"I said the fucking thing! A pet! A fucking pet! Can I get my fucking water, please?"

It was infuriating. Like talking to a goddamn brick wall without a single emotion or response.

"What are you?" they repeated for the thousandth time, always calm, always gentle.

Whumpee took a deep breath and thought about the refreshing, cold water sliding down their throat. "I'm a pet, sir."

The small bottle was tossed into their cell, and they scrambled to get the cap off and empty it immediately, as fast as they possibly could. It wasn't cold at all, but it was refreshing, it was life, and their life was all they had left after being stripped of everything else.

"See you in a couple days?" they mocked. "When you try to pull this out of me again? Because I'll let you know right now, if you think I'll just start answering your stupid questions after this, you're an idiot."

Whumper extended a hand, and Whumpee rolled the bottle across the floor so they could take it away. Whumper grabbed it with a small smile, the first Whumpee had ever seen from them. "See, this is progress," they said softly, holding up the empty bottle. "The things you do for me without hesitation. It's all about the little things. Right now, the big thing is admitting what you are. Soon, that will be a little thing you do for me without thinking, because you'll have another big thing to resist. Isn't that beautiful?"

~

general drabbles taglist: @ashh-ed @whumpsday @whump-queen @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @rosewriteswhump @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night

[lunarleonardo]

What keeps you motivated to write fan fiction? Also, love your drv3 x pressure fic :3

Just the fact I can, to be honest. Before I started posting to ao3, I had my "Great Big Book of Oneshots", which was a google doc I'd just write write write in until I hit Google Docs' character limit and had to make a new one.

The reason I can keep writing as much as I do is because A), i'm hardly ever affected by writers block. When I am, I just do something else until I can sit down and lock in again xD Forcing myself to write will never be productive. B) it's fun!! It's so much fun!! Why would I want to stop something objectively enjoyable ??

and C) ao3 and Wattpad.

I love writing, and I love fanfiction. I started out on Wattpad and eventually fully migrated over to ao3 because the ads kept pissing me off, but I have read so many amazing stories on both sites. I loved seeing more of my favs, especially in the Situations. and on the rare occasion it's something i relate to and find personal comfort in ?? ohhhh boy. buddy. it's so nice. I wanted to be a part of that ^^

Part of why I only had the confidence to keep posting fanfics is because everyone was SOOO so nice </3 and I've gotten some comments here and there that are kind of rude or :/ (one of which i find absolutely hysterical and i can NOT get over it. commenting that i "don't see kokichi as a character outside of saiouma" is a crazy thing to say on Fever Frost, the saiouma despair disease fic where kokichi has the attachment disease LMFAOOOO. I should write another despair disease fic) But really I think I was expecting....way less. as of right now my Tumblr has like 150+ followers iirc which . like...woah......... when did that happen. Last time i checked my followers was to giggle at it being 53 and then BOOM. insane behavior. what the hell was the original ask

Oh yeah motivation . Having such good reception to my fics has definitely helped in the whole self-confidence department, and it has helped me a LOT in terms of my anxiety. Whether Im posting my fics or not, I am always writing fanfiction, no matter if its in my Oneshot Volumes or for ao3 (´▽｀*)

Nowadays I just really really like ao3 for its archival use. I reread my own fics a lot because there's no other extensive Shuichi whump fics :( and ao3 has made that a lot easier. The more comfortable I get on ao3 the more insane I'll probably become, so if you see something called The Lyre Room just know that's where I've gone completely off the deep end xD

sorry for the yap session i like talking about myself @_@; And also Thank you!!! :D Unexpendable was a pain in the ass to write and i am NEVER doing something like that again but i love how it came out. crazy cus the first ever fanfic i posted ever was a crossover fic. the history book had a roommate or something idk

alright im not rereading allat press post

[lixxen]

You can tell them what you saw in me and not the way I am (The Spot x Male!Reader)

If no one got me, this Mitski song has me.

I'm sorry in advance.

Warnings: grief and whump

---

Eyes stared up at the dark sky.

The sky seemed never ending, an abyss of only darkness that was pin pricked with barely visible stars. The pollution of the city's lights drowned out the possibility to see any of the intricate wonders that surely was on display for it to see.

Eyes blink as the moon was covered by a cloud. Nothing new.

It had been 180 days, 13 hours, and 40 minutes since Y/n had last seen Jonathan Ohnn.

Life had lost its color since then. The world felt meek and washed out. As if someone had spilled a cup of water on a dried watercolor painting; wiping and dabbing up the mess with a paper towel that blurred lines and muddled the painting that was once a masterpiece. It dulled everything and took away the beauty.

You couldn't blame Y/n as he stood in the middle of Central Park. People walked by him, pushing past as he didn't move. They grumbled at him, casting him odd looks as they wondered what his problem was.

He had lost the one thing that kept him together. It was a shock as one day, he had turned on the news to see that the one person in his life's work had exploded. Fear had shot through him and he called for hours. His phone went to voicemail each time.

Even showing up at the ever cluttered apartment didn't work. Fists slamming onto an old wooden door, voice cracking as choked cries called out the voice of his lover. No answer ever came. Every single time he showed up.

After months, the neighbors told him to leave and not come back.

So there he stood in Central Park, 180 days after the love of life had disappeared from his life. Thoughts flew through his head as the gaping hole within him festered and warped. They festered and grew as he turned his head.

His friend was approaching him.

That's why he was here.

"Y/n, why're you in the middle of the sidewalk?" His friend asked with a concerned frown. She looked worried as she placed her hands onto his shoulders.

"I was looking at the sky." Y/n motioned loosely to the sky, his friend's eyes flicking up at the motion. She looked back at him and sighed.

"Again?" She asked, knowing the answer.

Y/n didn't reply, but let her direct him out of the way and towards the benches that littered the sidewalks. The two sat down and Y/n stared into his hands.

His friend watched him closely. He could feel her eyes honed in on him from behind her circle glasses. He refused to look at her, his hands clasping so he didn't pick at his skin.

"He isn't coming back." She had started.

Y/n took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

"Y/n, you're holding onto someone who is more than likely dead." She spoke softly to him, her normally coarse voice holding a calming smooth tone.

"I can't let him go, Delilah." Y/n slowly opened his eyes again. He didn't look at her. "It would have been mentioned in the police reports."

"Some things aren't mentioned in public reports." Delilah put her hand over his. "You need to move on. He's a guy who would have came and went, like the others. You've said it yourself, Y/n. Men come and go."

"But not him, Delilah." Y/n looked up finally, meeting her brown eyes. He watched as her eyebrows pinched. "He was everything to me. He was the reason I could wake up and want to be a better person. He was... He made everything seem lighter. I could finally escape the claws of everything that has happened."

"Y/n..." Delilah started, but Y/n kept going.

"He wasn't some guy who would use me. He was genuine and put so much love into his work." Y/n shook his head at her. "From the way that he would talk about everything that he wanted to do. The way that he saw the world. He was going to open the possibilities for us. He was going to take me away from everything."

Y/n felt his chest tighten up as the words crashed like waves out of him.

"You never got to see him like I did. The striving for greatness and being loved by everyone he met because he was just... A dork. He had no confidence on the inside, but he held himself like he was on the same level as everyone around him." Y/n squeezed Delilah's hand. "He was my world, Delilah. He was the sun shining onto my Earth, keeping me pulled in and waiting to see him again in the morning. His light was keeping me from slipping away into the abyss that called for me."

He was crying.

Delilah watched as her best friend broke down. He was a hardened person, one who had seen troubles throughout their years of knowing each other. But the simple prospect of a mousey man who couldn't hold up in anything but his smarts being dead was tearing down the mountain of a friend she cherished too much.

"Y/n, if he is out there he will come back." Delilah offered a weak smile to Y/n.

"Promise?" Y/n asked as he wiped his face with his sleeve.

"I promise."

--

The bar wasn't packed, the regulars all day in their usual spots and talked in hushes voices.

Delilah wiped a glass and stacked it as someone walked in.

She looked up to see a fully white man with black spots walk in. He had never stepped foot into the bar and seemed to be out of his league as he approached the bar.

"Hello." The man tilted his head as he leaned against the bar top, oblivious to the others stared at him.

"You sure you're in the right place?" Delilah didn't know who this man was. She didn't trust some new chump who hadn't made a splash yet in the city to turn up.

"I was hoping to get a drink, if I could." The man tapped his hands against the bar.

"You got an ID on you?" Delilah raised an eyebrow. "I don't recognize you. Clearly you haven't been around enough to work your way in here."

"Oh!" The man nods and reached into the black spot on his face. He pulled out a wallet as he spoke. "I'm The Spot. I'm new to this."

Delilah hummed as she watched him fish out an ID and ramble.

"I had to resort to this. Because who would hire someone who looks like me? My family doesn't even talk to me. So why not, y'know?" He finally found it as he was talking. "That's what happens when you're turned into a monster because of an explosion in a lab."

Delilah took the ID and glanced at him. His voice was familiar.

"An explosion?" She flipped the ID to face her.

"You've heard about Alchamex, right?" The Spot sounded bitter.

Delilah then saw the ID and a pit formed in her throat.

Jonathan Ohnn. Birth date January 13th, 1985.

The picture was a familiar man; his hair long and brown. He had moles on his face and glasses on his face.

Y/n's presumably dead boyfriend.

"I can't serve you." Delilah handed back his ID.

"What?" He took his ID back and stuck it back into his wallet. "Why not? I'm legal age and I've been slowly making a name."

"I can't help you." Delilah stood her ground and tilted her chin up. "You have to leave."

The bar patrons all turned to watch. They all seemed on edge as Delilah rejected the spotted man.

"Hey! D-lister dalmatian. You're not the level you have to be to work here. Get out!" One of the patrons called out. "You're out of your league."

"I deserve to be here just as you." The Spot shot back.

Delilah's patience was waning.

"The lady said get out." The man with a goblin mask said, his name was Harry.

"But-" The Spot started but got cut off.

"OUT!" Delilah yelled and slammed a fist onto the bar top.

The bar went silent, the band who normally played in the back stopped and all conversation came to a halt.

"Fine." The Spot straightened and left.

The silence stretched past him leaving as the patrons watched their host. Her hand was trembling as she stared at the bar top.

This was worse than him dying.

--

Y/n didn't understand why this was happening.

The world was seemingly falling apart as buildings came crashing onto the streets of New York. The sky was a pitch black, almost consumed as it swirled with some color came and went.

Y/n ran as fast as he could, his chest heaving as he passed others who were running to escape from the falling buildings.

Y/n had ran to Delilah's job, but it was crushed to a rubble and he couldn't get in to see if she was in there. So he ran and ran.

In the sky was different versions of Spider-Man. They were scooping people up and trying to move them out of the way. Their presence and the way they emerged from the sky through an orange portal felt like the sixth seal of the apocalypse had been broken. Coming as angels to save the people from their horrible fate.

Y/n ran until his breath started to catch in his throat and buildings started to fall into giant black holes. They were swallowed up and were released farther away, crushing the spiders underneath their mass.

"Spider-Man!" A voice called out. It was loud and crystal clear. Familiar and it made Y/n stop in his tracks.

Above him now was a ever shifting figure. His body was pure black; looking as if he was made of pure energy and matter as while spots swirled on him. He held his arms out as holes appeared around him.

The younger and newer Spider-Man was now standing on a building nearby, holding someone in his arms.

"Finally, you can't tell me that I am worth to fight you. I am now the equal piece to you!" The villain called out with a flare of his arms.

The voice.

That voice.

Y/n stared up in horror as the villain kept talking.

It was Jonathan.

His Jonathan.

The one that he had cried over for a year now.

"I created you." Jonathan called out to Spider-Man. "Now it's my job to destroy you."

Y/n watched in horror as Jonathan took buildings and rained them down onto the young hero. Around Y/n was heroes that weren't meant to be there. They were either laying on the ground unconscious or trying to pick up one of the unconscious.

It was a massacre.

Y/n couldn't move. He couldn't take his eyes away from the figure that used to be the man he had once loved. He couldn't stop watching the horror that was Jonathan trying to destroy the young man that had protected them all.

Hands grabbed Y/n and started to pull him away.

"You need to get out of here!" Someone called out.

Y/n tore his eyes away to see a version of Spider-Man looking down at him. The man's suit was partially destroyed and a single exposed eye was blown wide.

"I... I can't." Y/n shook his head and tried to tug himself away. "I have to stop him."

"Are you insane?" The spider asked and tried to keep his hold.

"Let me go!" Y/n tried to push the man off now.

Y/n looked up to Jonathan again, the last semblance of hope slowly growing.

"JONATHAN! JONATHAN HELP!" Y/n screamed out.

Y/n saw his head snap to Y/n. It solidified that it was in fact Jonathan. The two stared at each other as Y/n struggled to fight against the Spider-Man.

Jonathan raised a hand, a black hole appearing below Y/n and the Spider-Man. The two fell through and landed a few feet away. They hit the ground with a groan, breaking apart and rolling onto their sides.

Y/n slowly gets up and turns to the spider. The man was getting up slowly and Y/n turned to look at Jonathan. His attention was back onto their young Spider-Man, but his hand was still aimed towards them.

Y/n stumbled a few feet before the spider grabbed his ankle.

"Please, run. He will kill you." The spider coughed as he tried to get up.

"I can't. I can't do that." Y/n shook his head.

Crackling could be heard from above Y/n and the spider. Y/n looked up to see a large part of the building falling.

Y/n grabbed onto the spider with a yell, trying to move him out of the way. Y/n felt panic engulf him as he failed to get the spider far.

Y/n dropped to his knees and grabbed onto the spider, pulling him close and closing his eyes. Then he felt the ground underneath them disappear.

Y/n looked up to see Jonathan again looking towards them. Y/n then looked up to see the building falling and falling.

Y/n and the spider fell through the spot.

So did the building.

[sickfictropes]

Okay so we've heard of the lonely edgy traumatized immortal learning joy and fulfillment again when they are befriended by a peppy young human but what about a lonely edgy traumatized young human learning joy and fulfillment again when they are befriended by a peppy immortal

Instead of losing all the wonder in their eyes after thousands of years of life, the immortal's love of the world and the life in it has only increased. Everything is fleeting but that's what makes it so beautiful. And people are the most wonderful thing in the universe. they can create something that outlasts them and they can live through it. even their friends from centuries ago, it feels like they're still here because of what they've left behind. Just when they think they've seen it all, the world springs a new surprise on them. Living so long puts everything into perspective and they have every reason to be optimistic.

The human, though? At the ripe age of 20-something, they can hardly see a reason for the existence of anything. They're nihilistic, bitter, and dispassionate. And the immortal sees them and they can't stay away. This poor, wonderful creature needs to understand that they are the miracle the world exists for.

Needless to say, they become best friends.

(why yes I am a whovian why do you ask) (the doctor is both the lonely edgy traumatized immortal and the peppy immortal) (hehehe)

So............ out of curiosity........ if you had to whump them how would you. also which one would you whump

oooh i love this question!! i tend to prefer to whump sunny or spunky characters, but i also love whumping gruff and disillusioned ones. both bring something neat and fun to the table, so i'll answer for both!!

Sunny Whumpee:

pushing past the point of exhaustion because they think they can do everything at the same time. they believe that since they can't die, it's okay to ignore their body's signals. they're wrong. maybe gruff one is the one who tells them to slow down!

trying SO hard to be their usual perky self but falling short because they don't feel well and lack the energy. maybe it takes a bit of time for the gruff one to actually see through the facade, but when they finally do, it turns into a heart to heart. maybe not a super gentle one, but a heart to heart nonetheless.

when the sunny spunky is just a front to cover up deep insecurities!!! they think that they're dragging the team down, but they just can't see their own worth. they try not to let that side show, but when they're ill or injured, they're so much more sensitive about it.

let's not forget sacrificing herself to protect human teammates just because the enemy can't kill her!

now for the more disillusioned one!

maybe the reason they are the way they are is because they've been losing loved ones for hundreds of years. they dont ever like to talk about it--until a fever and a nightmare force them to let their guard down.

feeling constantly on edge, like danger lurks around every corner. they've been secretly staying up all night to ensure that they don't get ambushed again because she can't survive losing anyone (again).

maybe they're still bitter about being made to be immortal. like they already barely even got out of bed most days, and now they have to have that for ETERNITY??? they're definitely going to have to learn a thing or two from sunshine and rainbows whumpe.

this was so much fun, thank you for the prompt!!

[zeroducks-2]

You know what’s rolling around in my head right now? Vampire Eobarry. Either one being a vampire is beautiful. Speedster vampires (I don’t know if that’s a thing that’s possible but the horny brain says it is) needing to feed from someone with a healing factor. Either way it’s some nice Barry whump. Either reverse flash absolutely wrecking him and feeding from the hero or in denial vampire Barry starving himself cause he doesn’t want to hurt people. Eobard cooing at him and saying of course Barry needs him, shoves his wrist in Barry’s mouth while petting him.

i agree with you anon, vampire speedsters are a fantastic concept :3 I am currently writing not one, not two but THREE Eobarry vampire AUs lol, and it must be in the air because @gabedemon also has more than one! Theirs are frickin amazing btw, I highly suggest you go harass them to get them to talk about it :D

But yeah, have a snippet of one of the fics I'm writing featuring Vampire!Eobard and human (well you can't really call him human but you know what I mean) Barry. There's a whole context to this but I won't bore you with it.

(blood drinking, hypnosis, Vampire Eobard, Vampire thrall Barry)

Barry is still holding onto him with both fists tightened around the material of his suit, clawing at what’s left of his consciousness not to let it slip. There’s something frantic in the way his eyes move, hazy as they are, like he’s afraid he isn’t going to open them again if he lets them slip closed. 

Eobard grimaces, a bitter taste on his tongue despite he’s just finished drinking. He wants to wait for him to go down but Barry is fighting really hard not to, and so Eobard ends up sitting down while holding him, supporting his weight while carding fingers through short locks to help him unwind. 

The wound on his neck oozes blood at the same rhythm of his accelerated breathing, and just the smell of it makes Eobard’s jaw tighten with another wince. He is still hungry, he’s never been satisfied with a single session after all, and it suddenly hits him that this might be the reason why Barry hasn’t settled down despite the blood loss. Some acutely aware part of him must have caught that they’re not done yet.

«I’ll be quick.» Eobard mumbles, his thumb going over the smaller speedster’s sweaty brow. Fortunately he’s enough out of it not to realize that he’s being put under mental subjugation. That ability got enhanced so much through the vampirism that now it works even on Barry. It never did before. «Just look at me.»

Barry’s shallow, gasping breaths start to slow down. He ends up  holding on to Eobard’s suit very weakly and with just one hand; his head is heavy and it would loll on a side without support, and it almost feels like he’s reaching into the palm cradling his cheek.

Fangs sinking back into his neck pull a whimper from the pitch of his chest. Eobard shivers hard, holding his quivering body tight against himself.

[lifblogs]

May They Be Remembered

@ailesswhumptober Day 15 Waterboarding, Removing Body Parts, "Don't break down on me yet."

Fandom: The Bad Batch Rating: Mature Word Count: 5936 Summary: Emerie is interrogated by Hemlock as he believes she aided in Omega trying to escape Tantiss once again. This leads to Omega being caught and dragged to sub-level containment. She is given a cruel ultimatum. All the while, battle rages outside. Author's note: I understand there is a lot of whump in this, but I promise the ending is absolutely beautiful. WARNINGS: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death, Gore, Forced Amputation, Torture, Interrogation, Burns, Execution READ ON AO3

Emerie’s gaze frantically searched the cell she was brought to. A camera, a table with restraints, only one way out, and it was ray-shielded.

Emerie had seen countless clones restrained to these tables, and her heart was beating so fast she could barely breathe, as she was now restrained to it.

The troopers weren’t gentle, and Emerie’s struggles didn’t help. She could feel their hands like the bruises were already beneath her skin.

Once she was restrained, they each took up a position on either side of the room.

A TK trooper arrived, and with him…

Hemlock.

Emerie was confused, and felt herself shaking.

“Why am I here?” she asked, voice devoid of all confidence. It was a weak, wavering thing.

Hemlock glared, and Emerie felt it into her bones.

She had only seen him like this with others. Never her. She was slowly realizing that he was not in fact kind to her, but at the same time she couldn’t see what else could be wrong with how she was treated.

“You know why.”

Oh no. The tool she’d brought into Omega’s cell so Omega could swipe it from her. Did that mean…?

Was Omega trying to escape at this moment?

Emerie had heard the laser cannons, had felt the shuddering through the mountain. Was… was Clone Force 99 here as well?

Emerie had only done one small thing. That was it! Like the small things she’d done with Crosshair so he could send his distress signal to the rest of his squad.

There was a pang in her heart as she thought of them, thought of the love she’d heard in Omega’s voice when she spoke of them. All Emerie wanted was to be loved like that.

“Now tell me, where is Omega?”

A solid guess came to Emerie’s mind, but she tried to ignore it.

“I don’t know. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Hemlock growled, slamming his fists down on the table beside her, making her jolt.

He breathed in, then said, “Fine. I was hoping we could have a respectful conversation, but I see that is not the case. And I am running out of time. I have no patience for you today. Commander Scorch, get the tools I requested.”

The TK trooper seemed to glare at Emerie under his helmet, then nodded, and left.

“While we wait, how about we try this again?” Hemlock asked. “I’ll start first. You were reported by one of the other doctors. You entered Omega’s cell with unnecessary tools, and one was missing when you came back out. Care to tell me why that is?”

“Clearly she stole it,” Emerie argued.

“No, we need to go back a little in this story. You were the one who provided the tool that she stole, and now she is missing from her cell.”

“I had nothing to do with that,” she asserted.

“Fine. We’ll just wait for Commander Scorch, and perhaps your answers will change.” He huffed out a laugh, and started pacing, massaging his left hand. “I have been more than generous to you, Dr. Karr. I took you under my wing when Nala Se discarded you, a mere child. I have provided you with everything you need: clothes, food, a place to sleep, work to keep you occupied, and this is how you repay me? I could have thrown you in a cell like this one years ago. But did I? I was even kind enough to not punish you for your missteps with Omega, and CT-9904. But… it’s my fault to have expected more from you. You’re a clone, just like every single prisoner here. You’re nothing but property, and this betrayal shows that I have not sufficiently cowed you yet. But the time for that is over. I will not be gentle, Emerie, and I will get what I came here for. That is a promise.”

Commander Scorch returned with a tray, and he held it out for Hemlock. Emerie was shaking, turning her head away so she couldn’t see what Hemlock was planning for her.

A scrape of metal against metal.

“Forgive me for my barbaric methods,” Hemlock said. “I need this done quickly.”

Emerie tried to squirm, and held in a cry as Hemlock grabbed her left wrist.

What was he going to do? What was he going to do?

Emerie squeezed her eyes shut.

She cried out at the slice of a scalpel through her wrist.

“Where is Omega?” he asked.

Tears welled in Emerie’s eyes, and she whimpered, trembling as they rolled down her cheeks.

“I don’t know, I don’t know!”

The last word turned into a scream as Hemlock sliced deep into her hand.

“Where is she?”

The mountain shook.

“Please, please. All I did was let her steal the tool.”

“Oh, and what did you think she would do with it?”

Emerie couldn’t breathe, felt herself hyperventilating, the room spinning.

She couldn’t speak, couldn’t catch her breath enough to.

Hemlock dug the point of the scalpel into the underside of her pointer finger till it touched the bone.

Emerie tried to free herself of her restraints, screaming, sobbing.

“I do not have patience for you,” Hemlock warned, leaning in.

Emerie tried to steel herself, but the sharp pain across her wrist and hand, and the deep ache in her finger was all she could think about.

“Open your eyes.”

Emerie had no choice but to listen to his commanding voice. She had done so for years.

He held up the scalpel, and she flinched from her own hot blood dripping onto her face.

And then all her thoughts were busy wondering where he would hurt her next.

Hemlock seemed to know this.

He grabbed her face, and leaned in.

“I always knew you were too sentimental. I tried to rid you of it, but I see now. You’re nothing but a failure. No wonder Nala Se discarded you.”

More tears slipped free at that, her lips quivering. A held-in sob turned into a whine in her throat.

“This is your last chance to be helpful before I make this much, much worse. And believe me, I can. I have no qualms with doing what is necessary to achieve my goals. You’re just in my way.”

“I-I thought maybe she could get into the walls, maybe even reprogram the medical droid that came by for testing,” Emerie got out through the ache in her throat. 

For a second, she had to think like Omega. This was the girl who had gotten herself and Crosshair out before, and in such an imaginative way. There were no limits for Omega. And Emerie wished she could see her escape, wished that her sister would be okay. Maybe… maybe if Hemlock found her then she could be safe again.

But it felt like something in her chest was caving in and breaking.

Tantiss was not safe.

Hemlock was not safe.

For a second the lights and ray shield sputtered out, and flared back to life.

Hemlock straightened, looking around.

“Commander Scorch, gather a team and head to the vault. Check that our asset is under control.”

“Yes, sir.”

With a nod, Commander Scorch left, hurrying off.

Then it hit Emerie. The zillo beast.

“Omega’s released the zillo beast,” Emerie blurted out. Her words didn’t feel like much of a betrayal because Hemlock already suspected it.

Hemlock turned to her again, holding that scalpel over her face once more.

“And did she tell you any of her other plans?”

“No,” Emerie said with full honesty.

Hemlock sighed. “I believe you. But, after today, things are going to change. I now realize I gave you too big of a leash. Perhaps you need a collar that’ll make you choke.”

She started as he wiped the sides of the scalpel off on her face, then carelessly dropped it so it sliced into her arm. A cry scraped out of her, forcing its way past her clenched teeth.

Hemlock said to one of the troopers, “Come with me. I need to activate all our operatives. Let them deal with this.”

Hemlock turned back to Emerie as he was leaving. She expected a disappointed word, something. All she earned was a sneer.

Omega was captured by Hemlock and one of the CX troopers before she could even make it out of the base, or out to her family.

She was put in a room to wait, and wait, and wait.

Her stomach was in knots, and whenever she stood she felt like she would faint. What if her family was being killed right now? What if they were being tortured, imprisoned, used?

The operative she’d turned herself in to to get here finally arrived, and he put binders on her before dragging her along.

“Where are you taking me?” Omega asked.

No answer.

Oh, he was good.

Omega wished she could make a dash for it, but she’d escaped once. She knew everything up against her, and this night, the firepower of Tantiss was much, much worse.

She was taken to a strange room she’d never been allowed in before, but had seen Crosshair walk out of it day after day, his hours filled with some unspeakable torment.

The room was circular, and inside was a lift up to a domed room that looked down at the entrance.

She was dragged inside, and up.

Omega didn’t have to search the room to figure out what was going on. Crosshair was before her, restrained in some odd contraption.

Hemlock was already there, hands behind his back, smiling in a way that had always deeply disturbed her.

“Omega, good of you to join us,” he said.

The trooper shoved her to the center of the room, but released her, going over to Hemlock.

“How did you know I was escaping?” Omega asked.

“That question will be answered presently. CX-2, show in our other prisoner.”

“Yes, sir,” he said, voice deeply modulated by his vocoder.

Omega frowned at him, wondering why he felt familiar, as he had when he brought her back to Tantiss.

He left for only a moment before returning, and Omega gasped at who he brought in with him.

Emerie was bound and bleeding, keeping her head down, shoulders hunched in.

“What did you do to her?” Omega demanded of Hemlock.

She wanted to race to him, to hurt him, but she knew it would be futile.

She tried slowly going to Emerie, hoping her movements wouldn’t be thought of as anything to stop or worry about.

CX-2 pulled a blaster on her.

Crosshair started struggling hard.

Hemlock sighed, pressed a button, and then electric pulses were shooting into Crosshair’s temples. Choked screams left him.

Omega immediately went back to her space in the middle of the room.

“Stop! Stop! Please stop! He didn’t do anything!”

“Not entirely true,” Hemlock said. “After all, he broke into my facility, hoping to rescue you. He doesn’t understand that now you are a specimen, and one of great importance to me.”

“What do you want?” she asked, voice low, glaring. “And how does it involve Emerie?”

Hemlock laughed, walking over to CX-2 and Emerie. “Oh, can’t you see? She gave you up.”

Omega’s breath caught in her chest, eyes welling up with tears.

“Emerie?” she asked, her voice breaking.

She wouldn’t look at her. Omega just wanted her to look at her, to see her eyes, to see if this was the truth.

“I’m sorry, Omega.”

But Omega looked at all the blood from her hand, the trail it had made into the room. The sense of betrayal eased, and all she felt was sad. Terribly, horribly sad.

“It’s okay,” she told her.

Emerie glanced up then, holding Omega’s gaze.

But only for a fleeting moment, a matter of seconds.

Hemlock rolled his eyes.

“Kill her.”

CX-2 drew a knife, and Omega screamed as he slit Emerie’s throat.

Blood spurted, and her lifeless body fell to the floor.

The last look on Emerie’s face wasn’t that of terror, or surprise, but of yearning. She had wanted to be loved. That was all she had wanted. Omega knew that, had seen it in her face when she talked about Omega somehow being safe here, had seen it whenever she’d finally grown bored enough to reach out and tell Emerie of her family.

Omega had somehow been hoping that Emerie would make it, that she could have what she wanted.

She didn’t know why she’d hoped.

It was as if everything shifted in such a small moment.

Omega wasn’t sure what she thought she was doing as she ran over to CX-2, grabbing his wrist, and screaming at him wordlessly.

He held his knife to her throat, and she immediately seized up. He backed her up to the center of the room.

“Stay. Put,” he told her before backing away, back to Hemlock’s side.

Omega ground her teeth together, her hands in tight fists, promising herself that she would kill him. Along with Hemlock.

“Now that we’ve concluded that business,” Hemlock said, “I have something to show you. You too, CT-9904, so pay attention.”

He grinned, then turned to the trooper. “CX-2, kindly remove your helmet.”

CX-2 holstered his sidearm, and did as Hemlock ordered.

Omega fell to her knees, and didn’t even feel the impact against the hard durasteel.

Looking out at her was… was…

She gasped.

Her world upended. The galaxy upended.

She watched her brother fall, resigning himself to death, felt her heart break and break and keep breaking as she was forced to leave him behind, forced to let him die.

“Tech?”

“No,” Crosshair cried. “It can’t be.”

Tech’s left eye was cybernetic, jagged scars running along his cheek, almost down to his mouth. She couldn’t see any other differences. But there was no use denying it. That was his face. His slightly wider eye shape, his straight chin, his sharp cheekbone, and hard jawline.

There was no recognition in his eyes; eyes as brown as hers.

Omega felt like she was staring at a machine, a ghost.

Yet he was a person. He breathed, he looked at her, at Crosshair.

Crosshair was struggling to get free.

“This is a trick, I know it,” he cried. “It has to be.”

“No tricks this time, CT-9904. This was CT-9902, but is now CX-2. Mine. He succeeded where you failed.”

“How—” Omega began to ask.

Hemlock walked behind CX-2, running a hand across his shoulders.

“It’s quite a long story, and one I have no interest in telling. Let’s just say, I found him when you abandoned him.”

Omega was crying as she argued, “We didn’t. That’s not how it happened!”

“I suppose it doesn’t matter much anymore. CX-2 can’t remember the event with much clarity. Or you.” Then he turned to Crosshair and added, “Or you.

“Now, to business,” he went on. “You will not escape this facility, and you will cooperate with all tests I see fit to run on you. Is that understood?”

Omega, usually so ready to talk, couldn’t say anything, not as she looked back and forth between Tech, and Crosshair.

“It would seem I can’t trust those who work for me, and you clearly have no lack of imagination. So instead, I am going to make a bargain with you.”

Omega shifted on her knees. “And that is?”

Hemlock just looked at Tech, and tilted his head to Crosshair.

Before Omega or Crosshair knew what was happening, Tech grabbed Crosshair’s trembling right hand, and chopped off part of his pointer finger, right before it hit the knuckle.

Omega was on her hands and knees, begging, and pleading, screaming, wishing she could turn back time. Crosshair’s face was scrunched up in pain, his jaw tightly clenched, blood coming from his mouth from a bitten tongue as he screamed.

Hemlock came forward, got down on one knee, and grabbed Omega by the chin, grip bruising.

“Cooperate and CT-9904 won’t have to lose more parts of himself at CT-9902’s hands. Look at how you’re torturing them.”

“I—”

“I have no lack of creativity when it comes to pain. Perhaps I’ll bring back your precious Tech.” He leaned in, breath hot against her face, making her squirm and wince. “And then he’ll have to live with what he’s done. If I were you, I would accept my generous offer before it’s too late.”

“Don’t do it, Omega!” Crosshair cried. “Please, not for me.”

Hemlock just motioned to Tech with a hand, not even looking back.

“No, wait!” Omega screamed.

But it was too late. Tech’s arm raised, and then fell. More of Crosshair’s pointer finger was cut off.

Omega couldn’t breathe, and all she saw was Hemlock’s face as she trembled, and listened to Crosshair’s screams.

She felt like she was going to be sick.

She swallowed roughly, really hoping she wouldn’t be.

And Tech. Did any part of him know what he was doing? At all?

Omega didn’t know what to do. She had thought she’d known. She was going to escape, she was going to be with her family.

But it was all so wrong.

Emerie was dead, body in her peripheral vision, Crosshair was losing parts of his hand, the very knife held by Tech, who was Hemlock’s to control. She didn’t even know how Tech was alive, didn’t know how any of what she was seeing was real.

Hemlock wiped away one of her tears with a thumb, and she shuddered, but met him with hard, unforgiving eyes.

“I see you don’t believe all this,” he said. “A shame. I always thought you were too unbreakable—annoyingly so, I might add. Perhaps you require more convincing.”

He rose, his grip dragging her with him, to her feet.

Omega shook him off, a mixture of horror, anger, fear, and pain clashing in her body, roaring like the storms on Kamino, unforgivable lightning, and crashing waves as tall as mountains.

She didn’t know how, but she would get out of here. Crosshair would walk out of this room, and so would Tech.

She looked to Tech now, at the blankness in his eyes.

“I’m going to save you,” she promised him.

Hemlock laughed. “How adorable.” Then his tone changed, becoming a cold thing like a shiver in the middle of the night. “This is going too slow.” He nodded at Tech. “Cut off his hand.”

“Wait, no!” Omega cried.

Crosshair didn’t beg. Yet the eyes he laid on her were wide, so full of terror it could have drowned a planet.

Omega felt it stab through her, her limbs going numb..

He just nodded, and she froze, mouth open.

She knew Crosshair well enough to recognize what he was telling her:

Don’t give yourself up for me.

“Please,” she begged, the word now for him.

Crosshair ground out two words that had already torn Omega’s life apart once: “Plan Ninety-Nine.”

Tech cut off his hand.

Omega only saw gushing blood through her tears, falling to her hands and knees again.

Crosshair had passed out, but Omega was still awake to see all the blood, to see his hand on the floor rather than with the rest of his body.

And she couldn’t take it back. She could not go back from this moment. Her life for months had been one torment after another after another.

This one was too grotesque.

Omega threw up, and sobbed through it.

“Please, Tech,” she cried. “I’m your family. Crosshair’s your family. You don’t have to listen to him.”

“What… does she mean?” Tech asked, voice the same as ever, a voice that soundly landed a blow right to her chest.

Omega lifted her head up, watching him.

A frown fell on his face, one Omega recognized. He was thinking, hard.

Hemlock was watching him with a stern gaze, brows lowered.

“Why would Omega claim to know me? Did I have a family? I… realize I don’t know where I came from.”

“It’s because you don’t need to know,” Hemlock said, drawing a blaster he’d had hidden on him.

“Wait!” Omega cried.

“Oh, it’s far too late for that. Seems you’ve broken my favorite toy. I fear he is in need of more… re-education.”

He fired, Omega rising up, as if she could stop the blast. And then he fired two more times, a third.

All stun blasts.

Tech fell to the bloody floor.

Hemlock stooped to retrieve his vibroblade. He twirled it.

“I see there is only one way to continue this business.”

He raised the blade.

“What should I do to CT-9904 next, Omega?” he said, voice raised. “Should I cut off his other hand, remove an eye, take out his tongue, start working on his internal organs, castrate him?”

A whine left Omega, and all she could think to say in her fear that was starting to leave her brain completely blank, “Don’t.”

“Will you submit?”

Omega started hyperventilating, seeing Tech on the floor, Crosshair still bleeding from his forced amputation, face tight with pain in his unconsciousness, sweat on his brow, his face pale. And she looked around her. No way out. Emerie had tried to help her, and now she was dead.

Omega was going to break in this room. Maybe she already had.

Perhaps Crosshair wasn’t the one who should make the sacrifice.

She looked at Tech, remembering his bravery. She could do it too—sacrifice herself—she could, but… was it what Tech would have wanted? He had sentenced himself to what they had all thought was certain death to save her, to save their family. Would Omega be betraying him by letting herself be Hemlock’s willing, submissive specimen?

Oh, of course she would.

He had sacrificed himself to save Crosshair. But… if she sacrificed herself, then Tech’s mission would truly be complete.

Though… Tantiss would still exist, so perhaps not.

And all the other clones would still be tortured every day. More clones would be imprisoned, more children.

She realized what she had to do.

“I’m waiting,” Hemlock said, voice stern.

Omega raised her head, no more tears in her eyes as she stared him down.

Quietly, she promised, “I will never submit to you.”

The walls burst in, heat, and flame, and pressure ripping across the room. Omega was thrown against one of the contraptions Crosshair was caught in, pain slamming into her side, her ribs. She was sure she felt them crack, felt the fractures through her entire body. The room tilted. Fire spread in, so fierce Omega was sweating in seconds, finding it hard to breathe as the oxygen was sucked up.

She struggled as the room continued to tilt, the contraption she was stuck on now her only hope. She cried out as she reached forward, putting more pressure on her broken ribs. She exhaled, trying to keep her lungs from expanding towards her ribs in case she was injured enough for them to puncture. She managed to loop her bound wrists around part of the contraption.

She cried out as Tech’s unconscious body landed on transparisteel that cracked under his weight.

Crosshair had come to, looking sick, and in agony. And that contraption was falling.

Hemlock had caught himself on some broken transparisteel and was bleeding as he held on, screaming. That sound was one of the greatest things she had ever heard.

Emerie’s body had fallen, flames licking across it. The smoke had Omega throwing up again, terrified the whole time that her lungs woiuld get punctured by her broken ribs.

Crosshair was barely conscious, and he was trapped. And Tech…

Omega soon didn’t have to choose between the two because Hunter, Echo, and Rex were quickly dropping down into the room from a ship she hadn’t been able to see through the destruction and smoke.

“Help Crosshair!” Omega cried.

Rex got to it, and Hunter rushed to her.

“Hey, it’s okay. We’re gonna get you out of here.”

“Guys,” Echo called. Omega looked past Hunter, to see Echo trembling where he stood.

His eyes were on Tech.

Hemlock cried out louder as glass bit further into his hands. Then he was growling, attempting to move. A blaster lay dangerously close to him.

He reached for it.

“Watch out!” Omega cried.

Hunter drew a blaster, faster than she could comprehend, and before she knew it a blast had gone right through Hemlock’s gloved left hand.

He screamed, falling.

Guessing by his voice, the fall hadn’t killed him. She wondered if the fire soon would.

Omega coughed, and Hunter grabbed her, freeing her from the binders.

“Careful,” she breathed out. “I think my ribs are broken.”

Hunter grabbed her, and Rex had gotten Crosshair free. He draped him over his shoulders, and nearly slipped in all his blood.

Hunter looked to where Echo was hauling Tech to safety.

“I… don’t understand,” Echo said.

Hunter looked at Tech, but then looked around, the room groaned. Blasts lit up the night sky. The mountain shuddered. Omega hoped it would shudder to its own demise. She would love for nothing more than to have this mountain fall.

“Just take him, and go!” Hunter ordered. “We don’t have time. This room is collapsing. And we have to get the other prisoners.”

“I want to help,” Omega said as Hunter got her over to a line to get her onto the ship.

He put a hand on her shoulder. “You’ve done enough, kid.”

Omega saw Emerie’s burning body, saw Tech unconscious, and Crosshair bleeding, missing a hand.

She felt like she hadn’t done anything at all.

Hemlock screams turned into ones of pure agony.

Echo, shouldering Tech said, “Do we just let him burn to death?”

Hunter drew both his blasters. “No.”

“Wait,” Omega said, reaching out a hand, and then wincing at the strain on her ribs.

“What?”

“I…” Amidst all this chaos she felt herself blush with shame. “I want to do it,” she admitted.

Echo shook his head, as if to say there was no time for this.

“The hangar’s still not under our control,” Rex reported, clearly on comms with someone.

The room tilted further, and Omega would have slid if she hadn’t been holding onto the line. Hunter, Echo, and Rex wobbled.

“Get them to safety,” he told them regarding Tech, and Crosshair.

They nodded. Hunter came in close, and took his helmet off despite all the smoke.

She found that a sob ripped free from her at seeing his face again.

He cupped her cheek.

“Omega, we are here to save you. And if I let you kill him, well, then I haven’t done my job. You’re just a child. And that’s okay. That’s wonderful. You have so much life ahead of you. I… I wouldn’t be your father if I let you do this.”

“I don’t feel like a child,” she admitted. It wasn’t just because she was trained, smart, and capable. It was because of all she had been through, it was because of Tantiss, and what had taken place in this room.

“I know,” he told her. “I understand. I do. But I need you to be more than a soldier. I need you to be Omega.” His thumb rubbed against her cheek. Voice lower, open, and vulnerable, he went on, “I need you to be my daughter.”

“Hunter, I already am.” He might have sobbed as he held her. “Just let me watch,” she begged..

Hunter sighed, but Omega could see he would acquiesce.

“Get up to the ship. I’ll grab him.”

“And you won’t kill him yet?”

Hunter shook his head.

“Promise?”

He held out his hand, and Omega took it. “I promise.”

As the line began to rise a sudden fear gripped her as she watched Hunter, and he looked up at her.

What if… what if he didn’t come back?

“Hunter,” she cried.

“Omega?”

“Just make sure you come back, okay? You’ll come back.”

He gave her a two-fingered salute, then put his helmet on, and turned to where Hemlock had fallen.

As the line rose Omega could see the sky even more clearly. A new fear—one of battle—gripped her. Yet all those ships firing on Tantiss—it was one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen.

Before she could take it all in, Rex was helping her onto the ship. A medic was tending to Crosshair, and Tech rested along the deck in binders.

Omega tried to rush over to the both of them, but the pain in her side was too much.

She paused, one of her hands hovering just over her broken ribs. She couldn’t breathe well, felt like the bottom parts of her lungs weren’t getting air.

She fell into Echo’s embrace.

He called for a medic, but there was only one on the ship, and they couldn’t let Crosshair bleed out or die of shock.

“It’s okay, Omega. It’s gonna be okay.”

She nodded, looking past him, looking at Crosshair, just wanting him to be all right. And Tech.

Long minutes seemed to pass, or perhaps it had been seconds. Omega’s brain had started going foggy.

Hunter arrived with an unconscious bound prisoner she recognized as Hemlock, though half his face was burned, like smoldering melted wax, and his left eye was nothing but red, burned viscera.

“All right, let’s go!” Hunter said.

Rex reported to his men that they had Hemlock captive.

Wrecker burst into the room.

“Where is she?”

Omega thought maybe she smiled at seeing him, but the world was floating away from her.

“Omega, why are you turning blue?”

Wrecker surveyed the rest of his family, and stood there, unable to move.

“Did you stop the bleeding?” Hunter asked the medic.

“Yes, sir.”

“Help Omega. Please.”

Echo gently lowered Omega to the deck.

The ship was on the move, the engines seeming to hum through the floor. Battle flared around them. Omega couldn’t remember much else for a bit, an oxygen mask placed over her face.

Fear seemed to lift from her, like a dark cloud breaking up from a strong wind.

When she did come to, her ribs were wrapped with her right arm immobilized against her side.

There was a fuzzy sensation in her body, but as she moved, pain hit her.

Hunter entered, and Omega thought she spied daylight and a surprisingly blue sky outside.

“Hey, I was just coming to get you.”

“Is the battle over?”

“Yes.”

“Did we… win?”

Hunter nodded, and held out his hand for her.

“It’s time,” he told her.

Hunter led Omega off the ship, into a brilliant day, white birds flying through the air, Tantiss a smoking ruin.

They were all congregated at the main hangar. Omega, her family, even Crosshair, who was being helped to stand by Wrecker. 

And then she saw them. The gray clothing, the large mass of clones who had been prisoners. And the other kids were there too, Eva holding Rex’s hand.

Omega’s breath caught, tears blurring her vision at just how many prisoners there had been. They all looked grim, half of them barely able to stand, but were present anyway. Their hatred was leveled at one man, the man bound to a post erected in the hangar. He was gagged so his lies and cruelty couldn’t spill forth. But Omega had wanted to hear him beg.

His head was lifted, facing the hatred, the pain of the hundreds of clones he had wronged.

And he still didn’t care.

His hatred seemed even stronger than the pain of the burns. But tight shivers were running through him, she noticed. His hands hadn’t been bound, and were still bleeding. Yet it was all nothing compared to how he felt for his prisoners.

Omega’s tears slid down her cheeks, seeing all the clones together, at seeing how many had been wronged. And she saw that they were alive, saw their strength as they stood there and waited for it to finally be over.

Hunter stood before them, Omega going up to Crosshair’s side, careful to avoid his heavily bandaged stump. Her fingers trembled as she gently took his arm. Crosshair gazed down at her, and she up at him. She squeezed a little tighter, letting him know they were in this together, that he was no alone, and never would be again.

“You may not know me,” Hunter began, drawing Omega’s attention back to him. “I’m a Ninety-Nine. So that would make sense. But I know you. I know that what was done to you here was unspeakable and that nothing can take away your months of pain, nothing will truly be enough to avenge it. But I see you all today, my brothers, and I want to let you know that I am with you. Men like Captain Rex, and Echo, and Captain Howzer are with you. I… I didn’t always like regs—regular clones—but today I see you, and I embrace you all. What the Empire has done to you is wrong. We are not Imperial property. We are not anyone’s property. We belong to ourselves, to each other. I look out at you now, and I finally understand the fight you all began. Your sacrifice can never be repaid. I am honored to be your brother, and…” he looked to Omega, smiling, even as tears welled in his eyes. “I am honored to be a father.” Omega beamed at him, and he turned back to the crowd, the brave army before them. “There is no fixing what was done to you,” he said. “But, we can start somewhere. This—this is for all of us—not just for who I see here today, but also in the names of those who aren’t.” 

Many clones started murmuring names, their voices loud as one, getting louder and louder as everyone joined together, voicing the fallen. They were like a broken chorus, weaving a melody through the chaos from their shared losses. It overwhelmed Omega, as if through their remembrance the spirits of those brutally and carelessly killed were by their sides, holding their hands.

“Emerie,” Omega joined in.

Crosshair beside her said, “Mayday.”

“May they be remembered…” Hunter went on. His burning eyes landed on Hemlock. “And may their vengeance find you even after death.”

Hunter took out a blaster, Hemlock beyond screaming. He seemed to know his defeat, even as he quivered with pain from his burns. Omega forced herself to look at him, to keep her head high, to soak in his agony.

Hunter started walking over to them. For a moment Omega was worried and hopeful that he was going to give the blaster to her.

He offered it to Crosshair.

“Would you do the honors?”

Crosshair had a hard time grabbing the blaster, and eventually he said, “We’ll do it together.”

Clapping broke out as Crosshair began his physically laborious journey to the center of the hangar, Hunter helping him.

Omega wished to bow her head then, to cry. Her family was so brave, and they were finally being recognized.

Omega didn’t need to look at Hemlock as Hunter and Crosshair fired the blaster together, again and again. Just had to look at her family who had come together, for her, for this fight. She searched for relief on Crosshair’s face. There was only stony resignation, and burning hatred.

The cheers of the clones was deafening. Omega made her way to Crosshair, and Hunter, as the other clones crowded forward, everyone wanting to see Hemlock’s body.

“It’s over?” she asked.

Hunter looked back to the ship, to where Tech lay.

“Well… not quite.”

And they smiled.

[rainbowsandwhumperflies]

Re: asks and drabbles about things Onyx had to be trained in - yes, that sounds delicious! May I start with the "not allowed to touch princes' personal things" rule? Because I found that really interesting – I first assumed that he's not allowed to touch their things for any purpose other than cleaning (e.g. that picking up a photo frame or some other knicknack to dust it off or to wipe the dust from the shelf would be ok for him) and I was intrigued when it turned out that wasn't the case.

content warnings: royal/servant whump, nonhuman whumpee, burning, insults, carewhumper (? maybe? someone feel free to correct me on this idk), multiple whumpers

masterlist | ask game that this is from

I am so sorry about how long this has been marinating in my inbox 😭😭 but the rule actually does not apply to both princes! Onyx does all the cleaning for Cardan, he's just not allowed to do things for Ryan. The short reason why is that Ryan is a control freak, but you get the long reason too <3

“Onyx! Did you bring my soup?”

I bowed, all the way to the floor like Her Majesty liked me to do. “Of course, Your Highness.”

Prince Cardan grinned, leaning towards me with his hands out to receive it. Leaning towards me over his brother’s bed, actually, and I hesitated. “I… Your Highness, I don’t know if…”

“Oh, come on. It’s not that big of a deal, just give me the fucking soup.”

“Of course, Your Highness.” I leaned toward him, slowly handing the bowl over-

His hand slipped as he grabbed the bowl. The soup tilted left, spilling onto my hand, and I hissed at the scalding liquid, yanking my hands back to myself.

“Hey, angel, what the fuck was that?”

I looked back at the prince, who was staring at the quilt that I’d just dropped his soup on. “Shit,” I blurted out. “My, my apologies, Your Highness, I- I can fix this, I-”

“Can you?” Prince Ryan asked from the doorway, and I jumped.

“Yes, Your Highness,” I insisted quietly, grabbing napkins from Prince Cardan’s desk and shoving them at the quilt, at the bright red tomato soup spilled on it. “I, I can, I swear, I didn’t mean it and-”

“And all you’re doing is spreading it around. Stop.”

“I- please, Your Highness, I can, please-”

“Just- stop it, Onyx. Stop touching things.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I-”

“I don’t care! I don’t care. Shut up for one fucking second and let me fix this.” I froze. Prince Ryan didn’t yell at me. His brother did, all the time, but Prince Ryan told me clearly and concisely what he needed. There was never any need for him to yell at me. I dropped slowly to my knees and leaned forward, the way I was supposed to do when I saw him, instead of arguing and talking back.

I didn’t apologize, because he’d told me to keep quiet, but fuck was I sorry.

“What did you do?” Prince Ryan asked, and Prince Cardan laughed.

“Me? What did I do? Your bird is the one who spilled my soup.”

“Yeah. On my bed. What the fuck was he even doing over here?”

Prince Cardan made an I-don’t-know sound and went back to typing on his computer. Prince Ryan stayed silent for a long moment, and I squeezed my eyes shut as tight as they would go.

“Onyx,” he snapped eventually, and I looked up quickly.

“Yes, Your Highness? My apologies for spilling the soup. It won’t happen again.”

“Pull the quilt off and wash it. Handwash, not the machine. If the soup is soaked through any other layers, you can throw them in the machine. Come find me when you’re done.”

Handwashing took a long time. It was reserved for once every month or two, whenever the royal family could spare for me to miss almost an entire day of duties to wash the things that were more fragile than the rest. Things with embroidery or delicate fibers, things that the royal family owned in abundance. It was not a punishment, not by any measure, but it was a task that wouldn’t be simple to add on to the chores of the day.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

~

“I don’t want you touching my things again.”

I frowned. I had washed the quilt, gotten every shadow of a stain out, and then found the prince like he had asked me to. Because my whole job was washing things, cleaning things. “My apologies, Your Highness. I don’t understand.”

“What is there not to understand? Seems pretty fucking clear to me. I don’t want you ruining my things when you do shit like this.”

“Of course, Your Highness. Just. How else am I supposed to tidy for you?”

He rolled his eyes. “I’ll do it. You, just, like, vacuum and whatever. I’ll make sure there’s nothing on the floor to get in your way. Just quit messing with my things.”

I lowered my eyes to the floor. He was right. I wasn’t a very good servant at all if I tried to clean and only made more messes. And if being a servant was my purpose, and I wasn’t a good servant, there was nothing else left for me.

“Yes, Your Highness,” I agreed after a few moments. It didn’t matter what was left for me. Regardless, I was always supposed to agree with the prince.

“Good. Why were you near my bed in the first place?”

“I was bringing soup to His Highness Prince Cardan. He was waiting for me on the other side of your bed.”

“And you managed to spill it while you were handing it to him?”

“I, um. He- I think I made a mistake, Your Highness. I was careless about handing it over. I thought that he was holding more weight than he was, and so I stopped carrying all the weight. And the bowl titled and the soup got on my arm, and I- My apologies, Your Highness. I did not stay still when the soup hit me, and I dropped the bowl.”

He stared at me. “So Cardan spilled hot liquid on you after telling you to hand it to him over my bed? And then it just happened to accidentally spill?”

“Ye… es? Yes, Your Highness.”

“I am going to kill that bastard someday,” he muttered. He grabbed my wrist, flipping my arm over to look at the underside. The burned part was bright red, and I glanced away, wincing as he poked it. “That hurts?” he asked, and I nodded. “Alright. No punishment tonight for the quilt; this burn is plenty of punishment. Did you clean your arm with any type of soap or disinfectant?”

“I rinsed it off with water, Your Highness.”

“How warm was it?”

“Cold tap water, Your Highness.”

He made a disapproving noise in the back of his throat. He pushed and pulled at the angry red skin, trying to gauge where it started and ended, and I swallowed a whimper.

“You didn’t ice it at all, did you?”

“No, Your Highness.”

“Good,” he said. “If you know where any aloe vera is, you’re welcome to it for the next… two days, I guess. Be careful with the burn and don’t make it worse.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

He sighed. “I’ll… I’ll talk to Cardan about doing this kind of thing. He’s mad at me, and since he can’t actually do anything to me he’s trying to get back by doing things he knows frustrate me. Like pulling this shit with you and being a whiny bitch about it and-” He stopped, releasing my arm and turning back to his computer. “You’re not supposed to hear that. Don’t repeat it to anyone. Go finish your chores.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

~

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