#bruno whump
Note
For the writing starters, “I didn’t know where else to go” with Pepa and Bruno perhaps? :D
This is a long one. I threw in Felix as well, cause my man needs some love too. I imagine them all to be somewhere between 16-17 years old
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"Pepa. Your weird brother is here."
Pepa, young and impulsive and with a protective streak a mile wide, bites her tongue until she can taste blood. She wants to tell Alecia to shut her trap, wants to kick Rico's shin for snickering like a donkey, wants to turn her back on this small group of teenagers that have big mouths but nothing to show for it, and never look back.
But Felix is part of that group. They are his friends and cousins (twice removed, but still!) and she likes him. Oh, she likes him so much. Her heart does a summersault every time she sees him and it's all she can do to keep the rainbow suppressed when he smiles at her.
They have talked once or twice, but today is the first day that he's invited her to hang out with him and his friends in that little clearing in the woods. She still doesn't know if he likes her that way, but the hope is like a beast in her chest, wild and untamed. She wants to make a good impression. She wants his friends to like her and she wants to be everything he could ever want in a girl.
But all she is right now is the sister of the village weirdo.
Pepa doesn't want to think like that. Bruno knows how important today is (he'd begged her to shut up about this 'date but maybe not date oh my, do you think it's a date?' just this morning). He wouldn't come here if it wasn't important.
But all the same, when her eyes find him hiding behind a tree, watching her and the others, a surprising amount of frustration within her bubbles to the surface and a small cloud gathers above her head. It's not solely his fault. She has been stressed for days about this meeting and now that she's here her anxiety doesn't get better but worse. She is analysing every look, every word. Is there a double meaning behind any of it? Was Felix' cousin laughing at her joke or laughing at her? Is Felix really looking at her with affection or is it just condescension?
She's never felt so insecure before and seeing her brother cowering behind a tree, the hood of his oversized ruana pulled up and into his face, doesn't help any. He looks like a wraith. He looks like the brujo they all accuse him of being, watching them from the shadows of the treeline, all creepy and stuff.
"What a freak." Osvaldo mutters.
"Hey!" It's Felix who snaps at him and if Pepa wasn't so embarrassed, she might have appreciated it more than she does. "Shut it, Oz!" He turns to Pepa and tries to catch her gaze. "You wanna go and see what he needs?"
Pepa can't meet his eyes, just nods and hurries over to her brother with quick, agitated steps. Bruno must know that she is coming, but he is still half hiding behind that stupid tree. He has buried his nails into the bark and keeps his head down. She can't see his face at all.
"Bruno!" Pepa hisses as soon as she is close enough. She allows herself a small cloud, hoping that she is far enough away that Felix won't see. "What are you doing here?"
"M'sorry." he mumbles. "I just... Juli s'with Mama and..."
"What's that got to do with anything?" Pepa explodes. She can feel the stares of the others on her back like needles poking her, drawing blood, poisoning her mind and soul. "Dios Bruno. Can't you spend one afternoon without one of us holding your hand?"
Her little brother flinches back from her anger and Pepa immediately feels guilt clawing at her chest. She also can't help but notice that he is clinging to that tree with a kind of focus that almost seems desperate.
"M'sorry." he repeats and Pepa feels a pit form in her stomach. His voice is shaking, his arms too. He sounds like he is on the verge of crying. "I don't wan' Mama to know. I didn't know where else to go."
"Brunito." Her voice is soft now, soothing, her anger already nothing more than a fleeting memory. Something is wrong. Very wrong. "Look at me."
He doesn't. Pepa has to grab his shoulder and guide his face up with a careful hand under his chin.
She gasps when it comes into view and immediately brushes the hood away to get a better look. The black eye and split lip aren't even the worst.
The worst is the bruise at his temple and the dazed look in his eyes.
Panic seizes her heart. She's seen enough concussions while helping Julieta hand out food to know the signs.
The panic is quickly overshadowed by a cold, hard fury.
"Who did this?" she asks, eerily calm. Her hand is still cupping his chin, her thumb brushing over his cheek. Careful. So careful, as if she is handling cracked glass. Only the thundering, black cloud over her head betrays the turmoil wreaking havoc under her skin.
Bruno shakes his head. Of course he does. He never willingly tells her who his attackers are. Not that it matters. Pepa will find out. She always does and when she does? May God have mercy with them.
Cause Pepa won't.
"Everything alright here?"
Pepa whirls around and tries to shield her brother. She knows the voice and knows that he won't harm them, but her instincts are going haywire. Everything suddenly seems like a threat.
Even wonderful Felix, who is standing at her shoulder and winces in sympathy when he sees Bruno's face.
"Ay mierde, hombrecito! That looks bad. Who did this?"
Bruno just stares at the other boy and stays silent. Pepa really doesn't like the dazed look in his eyes. They need to find Juli and lure her away from Mama's side. As much as Pepa would like to trust their Mama to deal with this in a satisfactory manner, Pepa knows that she will only talk with the bullies and their parents. If she even bothers to find out who they are and doesn't just tell Bruno to make more of an effort to 'make nice' with the other kids.
No no. The time for talking has passed years ago. This needs Pepa's personal, physical touch and she can only do that if her mother isn't aware enough to stop her.
"Don't worry. I'll find out.", she promises darkly. "I have to get him home. I think he has a concussion."
"I'll come with you. Maybe whoever did this is still around."
"I can protect us!" Pepa can't help bristling. The cloud over her head thunders ominously.
Felix stares at the dark mass over their heads and Pepa feels like crying. He will never ask her out on a proper date now. Boys don't like violent girls. They don't want to be intimidated by a girl. They want to feel strong and in control. They want a pretty, vulnerable girl, who they can protect, who wants to be protected. They want everything Pepa is not. After today, Felix will never look at her and think-
"Beautiful." The whisper is more breath than actual sound and Pepa almost convinces herself that she has imagined it. Felix stares at her cloud for a second longer with wonder and adoration, before he grins at the pair. He helps her steady her brother who is leaning dangerously to the side. "I know you can, Pepa. But I want to help you. Both of you."
She just nods, too stunned to speak. Bruno leans heavily into her side, but doesn't shake Felix's hand off his shoulder. Which is either an amazing sign of trust or proof that he is even more out of it than she thought.
They turn to leave and the group they leave behind shouts after them. Something about abandoning them and to not bother coming back if they leave now. Pepa couldn't care less and Felix doesn't even turn around, just cheerfully tells her to ignore los cabrones. He has slung one of Bruno's arms over his shoulder and periodically pats his back.
Their progress is slow and Pepa grows more and more worried the longer Bruno stays silent. But when he opens his mouth, she kinda wishes that he hadn't, since he is apparently way too out of it to know what is going on.
Or rather, who is with them.
"Sorry Pepi. Din't wanna crash y'r date with Felix."
Pepa keeps her face straight ahead. She will not react. She will NOT react. Other than the bright hot flush on her cheeks and the mist suddenly surrounding her head, she will not react.
"Don't worry, amigo." Felix says. His voice sounds… it sounds actually pretty happy.
Pepa glances at him over Bruno's head and her heart skips a beat at the smile he regards her with. He winks at her and she thinks she might swoon. "We'll just have to continue this after your sister beat up whoever did this to you. Or maybe that actually could be our next date. I definitely want to see that."
Pepa grins. "Sure. It's a date."
(Bruno later tells her that, if the concussion hadn't made him throw up minutes later, it would have been their cheesy flirting. Pepa just ruffles his hair and keeps preparing for her date. Felix has just confirmed that the bully suspects nothing and has agreed to meet them in that clearing in an hour.
She cracks her knuckles.
It will be so romantic.)
#Pepa turned a little unhinged there in the end#Oops#bruno whump#bruno madrigal needs a hug#Pepa Madrigal needs a hug#Felix is best guy#Bruno Angst#Pepa Angst#Young Triplets Encanto#encanto#encanto fanfic#answered ask#pepa madrigal#bruno madrigal
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If you ever feel like you put too much whump/emotional package in your Encanto fic, just remember a few things:
This cutie pie never got to enjoy his ceremony, aka the night of his life, and was afraid of 'not being special', oh and let's not forget that he was almost crushed by a door, and he's five
This girl, spent all her life being perfect, and was going to marry a man she never loved for the sake of her family
On the other hand, this girl spent her life seeing the man she loved with another girl, and not just any girl, but her cousin, and couldn't do anything about it
Oh, let's not forget that Luisa literally worked without rest for the sake of being 'helpful', and was prolly stressed 24/7
Hold on, there's more
Bruno literally didn't expect to receive a hug from HIS MOTHER, and also thought it would be better to live in the walls even after everything is fixed, to sum up, he thought it would be better if he wasn't there
Let's not forget that Mirabel was literally surprised when HER SISTER hugged her, like, c'mon. Is this normal for siblings? Sure. But for Mira, that's totally a surprise
Oh, i almost forgot, our weather queen here had to hide her feelings and be in a good mood 24/7 in order to please everyone for like, 45 years
Boy literally was struck by lightning, like, imagine how hurtful it is to get struck by lightning then shift into, i don't know, 3 people?
Last but not least, the lovebirds. Who never got to enjoy parenthood together, or experience their happily ever after. One was murdered just after his kids were born, and the other watched him getting murdered in front of her eyes, and had to raise three kids on her own, for fifty years, all while making sure their magic never dies
So never be worried that your story has too much whump :)
#Encanto#Abuela Madrigal#Pedro Madrigal#Pepa Madrigal#Bruno Madrigal#Isabela Madrigal#Dolores Madrigal#Luisa Madrigal#Camilo Madrigal#Mirabel Madrigal#Antonio Madrigal#Mariano Guzman#Don't worry to put whump in your stories guys#I tried to make this based on canon things from the movies#So it'd be more realistic#Wow the last one rhymed good
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Captain Down
The time for waiting is over! Here is the debut to the Hostage Arc! I hope this is a fun little chapter to start things off with. Please enjoy!
Bru Bru tag list: @cpt-winters, @redd956, @straight-to-the-pain, @technom0ose, @actress4him, @whumperofworlds, @i-eat-worlds, @inscrutable-shadow, @gala1981, @thethistlegirl, @ocean-blue-whump, @noirineverysense, @steelandblood, @crash-bump-bring-the-whump
CWs: military whump, war, gunshot wounds, blood, injury, bombing and explosions, gunfire, death of random soldiers
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“Do you have your eyes on the target, Kieran?” Bruno asks, leaning against the wall, huffing from the quarter mile sprint he just had to do after he was spotted. He tilts his head back, groaning while the heavy gear he has on makes him sweat unbelievable amounts. He doesn’t have time to wipe the sweat dripping from his brow or nose, his fingerless gloves gripping his weapon tightly. It wasn’t even a terrible run, but with the sun burning them from above, it makes it more unbearable to even be out. A mission is still a mission, however, and it makes the man even more committed to getting the job done. “Kieran, you better not be napping on me. Respond.”
He hears the crackling of a mic coming to life, followed by a sarcastic, “You know, Bruno, it’s kind of hard to find a target when a bunch of Tangos (targets) are all after your ass. Give me a minute.” Kieran has a smart mouth on him, but that’s what you get when the Navy has to give away one of their best SEAL operators, especially one so skilled with a sniper.
“A minute? Wow… seems like you are losing your edge, Navy boy,” Valdemar’s voice comes in, gravely like an Army Sergeant’s voice would be after screaming nonstop. A chuckle or two later, he continues, “I am surprised Bruno over there can even run as fast as he did. Fuck, he left a cute little plume of dust in his way. How are the joints doing, old man? I think I could hear them creaking all the way over here. No wonder everyone was on you.”
Bruno can’t help but growl back playfully into the mic, “Valdemar, you damn asshole. Shut your mouth unless you have something important to say. What have I said about keeping the channel clear of any unnecessary bullshit? Keep your vest on, your ears clear, your eyes open, your head on a swivel, and your mouth shut.”
Kieran’s humming is all Valdemar gets in response from the prideful Naval operator, instead Miranda’s voice coming in. “Leave Kieran alone, Val. The man has better eyesight than your Army ass. Shit, give me a second-“ the sounds of gunfire and a thud on the ground made Bruno’s heart pound loudly in his ears.
“Miranda,” he breathes out, taking a moment to check his surroundings. She was always so ballsy and trying to prove her worth on the team. It doesn’t matter how many times they all told her, she just has to work unbelievably hard while putting her own life at risk. It came with the territory and the occupation. They are the ones making the real changes in the world, and yet their names will never be entered into the pantheon of the greats.
They are destined to remain in the shadows and only be seen by the select few that were granted the right and clearance to even know who they were. Out of the entire military, they are the small crew that felt like a real family. They ate out together, lived together, laughed together, cried together, and so many other things. They have his back and he will make sure they are safe in return while offering them the best leadership he can impose.
He can’t deny that Miranda is good at her job, but his worry keeps rising until she laughs, “Damn, the bastard almost had me. Kieran, what’s the sitrep (situation report)?”
Bruno sighs to himself, his helmet digging into the bricks of the building he is using as cover. He takes a chance to peek around the corner, but the whizzing of bullets launched his way forces him to take cover once again, the next volley of them chipping away at the corner of the building. “Fuck! Okay… just breathe. You have been in these predicaments before. Come on Kieran…” He doesn’t bother saying anything into the comms, waiting for his sniper expert to handle the mess.
“Sitrep isn’t too great, guys. They are holed up real good at their vantage point. I know where they are at, but I can’t take the shot without giving away my position. I can move and get a better angle at them. Guidance, Bruno?”
Shit. That’s not the answer Bruno needed, but it is what it is. He clears his mind of all the noise around him, trying to get to the part of his head where he can think out of a problem. He’s a sitting duck where he is at, but maybe he can get lucky. “From where you saw them firing, do you think I could mask my location with smoke?”
“What the hell are you thinking of, Bruno?”
He can’t help but smirk in response, a small weight off his chest when he laughs, “You heard me, Kieran. Can I use smoke or do you think a flash bang can do the trick? I am trying to get to the next few buildings but I need your help.” While he is waiting, he takes his canteen of water, taking a swig to then spit out the dirt and dust coating his mouth before finally drinking a few gulps. He needs to be hydrated if he’s going to really be doing something half crazy.
“Bruno,” Miranda calls out from the comms, “I really hope you aren’t about to pull your usual stunt of risking your life. Maybe just sit tight and call Lukas in for an airstrike, yeah?”
“That’s a lot of gall coming from the girl that plays with explosives and death on a daily basis. Also, I am not wasting a good airstrike on just me. Kieran, you better give me an answer or I am going to get fucked real good by the tangos,” Bruno huffs back, reaching into his pouch to grab a smoke grenade just in case.
“Alright. I got it. Bruno, I need you to throw the smoke as close to them as you can. Then use the thermal scope and pick out a few. I can handle some of them too to take the heat off. Other than that, I don’t see another way out. What’s the verdict, Sir?” Kieran sounds like he played out a few scenarios and picked the one with the best outcome. That’s what he needed from the man.
Bruno flips the switch on his assault rifle’s scope, seeing the blue haze on it to show it’s on. “Perfect. On my mark, Kieran.” He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath and getting his body ready to react fast. He takes off the pin from the ‘nade, counting off, “One. Two. Mark.” He rolls around the corner, throwing the smoke grenade as it sends out a smoke screen to obscure everyone’s vision. There’s a gunfight going crazy now, Bruno on the ground firing away at all the blips coming into view on thermal, the blasting sounds from the mountain near them giving away Kieran’s position, whether he liked it or not.
He can hear shuffling over the comms, Kieran’s voice quick and short. “Position compromised. Running two klicks eastbound. Approximate time to wait ten mikes. Copy?”
Valdemar grunts back, “Copy, Kieran. I’ll be the closest to you once you’re there. We have a few more people here than we thought. Possible intel miscount, Bruno. What now?”
He just finally got to cover, the barrel of his rifle turning to a reddish hue from the heat building up. Bruno barely has a chance to breathe when the news comes in and his eyebrows furrow. “Wait… The count shouldn’t be off. This was validated plenty of times via the NSA, STRATCOM, and the folks over in DC. Oscar, what the fuck is going on?” He busts his way into the building, aiming around and clearing the vicinity prior to making his run up the steps in the stairwell, getting to the fifth floor and getting into a rundown office. He better make his nest now, flipping a desk on its back to press up against a window, using it as both cover and a thing to lean back on, his eyes on the door to the stairwell in case anyone followed him. “Oscar, I need something, now.”
There is frantic typing he can hear, and that is never a good sign. He sets up his gear where he needs to, taking the chance to wipe the sweat and dirt off his face, his eyes on the tablet he has set out. There’s a grid map showing his position in relation to the others and where the main target, who is the main reason why they are there, is. He keeps his composure though, waiting for Oscar to explain himself and the faulty data compiled from multiple three letter agencies.
“Sir… something isn't right. There's more movement from the enemy. ISR (intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance) operations are alluding to a possible betrayal," Oscar breathes out, the clicking and typing starting up again. It's so quiet now, almost as though a pin could drop.
The waves are crashing in Bruno's head now, the man needing to come up with a solution. His options are either to continue pursuing the main target or fall back and go back to the drawing board. He stares up at the ceiling, his eyes tracing the fallen wires while he attempts to strategize. With that, he glances back down at the tablet and with a gruff mutter, he announces, "We aren't letting these people get away with what they've done. They've killed too many innocent people. If I let them slip through my fingers again, I'm going to lose my shit."
"Alright, Captain America, so what's your plan?" Miranda shoots at him, and he can feel as though she's staring right at him, even if she's so far away.
Bruno snaps his fingers and goes to type in the tablet, each tap another step closer to the end goal. "The plan is to aim a barrage right down the middle of their forces. Force them to split up and we rip through them like nothing. Lukas, can you handle helping us out from up there?"
The voice of the young and cookies pilot Bruno's ever heard of comes through the earpiece, "Oh I can handle just about anything, Bru Bru. General Kane got me a nice Reaper MQ-9 drone for Christmas. Have you seen what that baby can do? I'm talking about Hellfire missiles and whatever other toys I requested. What are the coordinates?"
Bruno manages a small grin and laugh, the corner of his lip rising. He remembers what it was like to be a real fighter pilot, and he knows how long Lukas has been working towards becoming a drone pilot as well. "Good. I'm sending them over now. Fire when ready. Those in quadrants three and four need to take cover."
He puts the tablet away the second he's done sending the location, taking a few more to drink away some of his water and prepare for the long haul as they won't be making it back for dinner. Things seem to be going his way and then his earpiece screeches in his ear. He jumps in surprise and rips it out, grumbling about stupid technology before placing it in his pocket, replacing it with the backup headset. It takes about another minute or so, but yet he hasn't heard the sound of explosions or missiles. "Did I miss anything?"
What Oscar comes through with doesn't sit well with him: "Sir? Nothing happened, but Lukas is having some trouble from his end getting the coordinates, but he just got them. Thank you for revising them for him."
There are alarm bells ringing, and his heart starts to pound to the drums of War. He scrambles to his feet and starts running towards the stairwell, his voice rushed and full of worry. "I didn't revise a damn thing. I sent him the right thing already. Oscar? Lukas? What the fuck is goi-"
The blast cuts him off as he holds onto the railing, barely keeping himself from tumbling down them. His eyes widen when looking back at the office, now engulfed in flames. That missile was aimed right on him, and he can hear the whirring of the drone closing in again and he returns to his attempt to make it out of the building, concrete pieces and debris falling on him. "Stop the airstrike!" He roars in retaliation, reaching the ground floor of the building.
The door is blocked from the other side and he's attempting to bash through it, but it refuses to budge no matter how hard he tries. No one is on the comms anymore, and he feels as though everything is falling apart around him. His eyes are now darting around the building, seeing the stress of the bombardments cracking the walls, the lines zigzagging to the ceiling.
"Of fuck," he huffs, realizing that if he doesn’t get out soon enough, the building is going to collapse right on top of him. To hell with the mission and to hell with the comms being down; this is survival. He turns away from the door and runs down the hall, coming to a halt when he sees a window inside a room flooded with fire. “You gotta be kidding me.” The building shakes again from the next blast, and it forces Bruno to grit his teeth, his own fire burning inside of him. He’s not ready to die yet; not to a building. It’s not a fitting end for a man like him. “Here goes nothing.” He locks the rifle to the chest plate’s hooks, ripping his pistol from the side holster. He aims it straight and true and pulls the trigger, launching the bullet right through the window, shattering it upon impact.
He jumps over the flaming debris of the desks and fallen file cabinets, thankful that he has enough gear on to keep him from getting too burned, the sweat now freely flowing down his face. Still rushing to the window, the final blast hits the floor above him, parts of the ceiling crumbling down just as he vaults through the broken mirror, not bothered by the glass cutting away at his uniform and face. The stinging from the sweat, fire, and glass just pushes him over the edge, and he catches himself on the dirt floor, coughing. Just in time to see the drone pass by him one more time, but nothing comes from it thank the heavens.
He stands up and moves away from the building, his heart still pounding away in his chest. Hiding away in one of the alleys, he groans and wipes away at the slick red coming from his face. “Someone. Better. Have. An. Explanation.”
His comms are only returning static until finally there is a voice beside his own: “Sir, I think there's enemy interference. Someone is trying to get in and find our locations. I am trying to scramble the signal, but they got a hold of you. I don’t know about the others.”
Bruno tenses up at that and it hits him that someone ratted on them. No one should have known they were there. No one should have prepared reinforcements so quickly. No one should have tried to murder him with his own drone. It was a trap, and he had to get everyone out before things could get any worse. “Everyone, head to the second emergency rendezvous point. We have been compromised. If there are signs of adversaries there, make it to the third point. Move it!” He reholsters his pistol and rearms himself with his trusted rifle, treading along.
When he makes it to a major street, something doesn’t feel right to Bruno. It’s this weird feeling someone gets when they are in a room, but they can sense another person in there. It only gets worse the closer he is to the edge of the alley. He has to sprint across as fast as he can, and so that’s what he does. He dashes as fast as his legs can carry him and the extra hundred or so pounds of gear… and that’s the second an immense searing pain hits him right in the calf, making the man fall to the ground. Only then does he hear the crack and boom from the sniper rifle. He just got hit, and he’s still in the open. He forces his body to act fast, pushing himself to get to cover, his back leaning against the wall. They know where he is. It’s only a matter of time. He rips off his helmet and looks down to see the damage. His right leg is the one that feels as though there’s a small fire inside of the gunshot wound, blood already seeping through his fatigues.
“Hit. I’ve been hit,” he groans, but there’s nothing on his comms again. He reaches into his shoulder pocket, pulling out a small pouch. Using his teeth, he tears open the sterile tourniquet, reminding himself of the steps Khrystyna taught him. He gets the belt strapped and then using the stick on the tourniquet, he begins to twist it, cutting off his blood flow. The pain is getting worse, the man clenching his jaw so hard when he cuts away at his pants to find the wound.
To his dismay, he sees both an open and exit wound, and he takes a deep breath. “Okay… there’s a big ass hole in your leg. Time to pack it. Dammit, why me? Move faster…” He rolls up the cut fabric, rolling it up and proceeding to bite down on it before he takes the gauze from the first aid kit he had, shoving it into his wound without waiting. He screams into the fabric, the back of his head digging into the wall to distract himself. He wants to cry, but he instead just pounds at the ground with his free hand. Just as he’s done, he can hear the sound of someone rustling near him. He takes his pistol with one hand, his body trembling from the shock and anger ripping through him. Waiting for the person to come around the corner from his left, he doesn’t catch the person to his right rounding the corner and firing into his side. Bruno gasps and turns quick enough to fire a few rounds into that soldier, returning his attention to the one he had initially heard, taking them down as well when the opening presents itself.
His breathing is ragged, his hand reaching to where he felt the slap of a bullet. Wincing, he pulls his hand back to see that there’s now a bullet lodged in him, finding the one part of his torso that wasn’t shielded by the vest, plates, and gear. It’s getting hard to breathe, and he stares up at the sky in search of an answer to his problem. It takes him a few minutes to patch up, getting up while using the wall to lean against, limping his way towards his team. The corners of his view are blurring and turning to black, almost like the beginning of tunnel vision. He trips over some broken stone and slabs of brick, screaming silently when one of the pieces digs right into his side. Struggling to his hands and knees, his head snaps up when the one person he couldn’t have near him speaks.
“Bruno?!”
Khrystyna runs up to him and helps him sit against the wall, her eyes so calm and yet her voice is full of worry. “Hey, you are going to be okay. We are really close to where we need to be. I need you to tell me what’s wrong and what you need me to do, Sir?”
Bruno isn’t fully there. His mind is on the fact that this entire time, he was leaving specks of blood and a trail for his enemies to follow. If he dies, and they find him, they are going to take Khrystyna and do the most awful things to her. If he doesn’t die and they both get caught, they will use her against him, and he would be responsible for her dying due to his loyalty to secrecy. Even though she is one of the strongest women he knows, she won’t be able to carry him the entire way, and he’s only getting weaker by the minute. The answer was there the whole time.
He knows what he has to do, and so when he coughs up a bit of blood, he reaches over to take Khrystyna’s pistol, aiming it at her with tears in his eyes. “You need to get away from me right now if you know what’s good for you.”
#izzy writes#whump#bruno stenberg#miranda ryker#kieran ashton#valdemar ackermann#lukas kazemi#oscar cortez#khrystyna paszek#military whump#war#gunshot wounds#blood#injury#bombing and explosions#gunfire#death of random soldiers#guns
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what do ao3 users have against people named carlos? i need to know
#ao3#ao3 tags#they're so silly#ao3 writer#fanfiction writer#whump writing#whumpblr#how many whumpble carloses are there??#wtnv carlos#cecil palmer#bruno madrigal#carlos de vil#kevin wtnv#what a lovely line-up of characters
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10 Years is a Long Time 🥲
#bruno madrigal#Bruno my beloved#rat man#long hair Bruno madrigal#encanto#encanto art#encanto bruno#encanto mirabel#mirabel madrigal#pepa madrigal#julieta madrigal#camilo madrigal#luisa madrigal#isabela madrigal#Antonio madrigal#dolores madrigal#Bruno madrigal whump#Bruno madrigal angst#my art
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Did someone say "JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Golden Wind" Hurt/Comfort Found family werewolf AU that is expressly to make Bruno talk about his feelings? Well, if so, you're in luck.
I've been writing fic and severely lacking at sharing it over here, but since it's @februabba2024, I had to rectify that by throwing my entry to it onto the Tumblr pile.
Read it here!
Thanks to @lady-wallace and @waffles-in-winter for their tips and feedback on the transformation sequence, and to the BruAbba-ers for their prompts for helping me get out of a rut that kept me from finishing this scene for almost 3 years (!!).
#februabba#februabba2024#jjba fanfic#werewolf au#bruabba#fanfic#jjba#golden wind#fanfiction#vento aureo#jojo's bizarre adventure#bruno bucciarati#leone abbacchio#whump#h/c#emotional h/c#ao3 link#ao3 fanfic
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Someone help this man, please. Ya feel like death and suddenly a four year old happens.
From the Wonderful fic One Step Away, by @breannaaiedail who is also wonderful!
#encanto#encanto art#bruno madrigal#encanto bruno#julieta encanto#julieta madrigal#mirabel encanto#mirabel madrigal#encanto fanart#art#my art#cw nausea#whump
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Today a very quick art. Mirabel was poisoned and she’s not out of the woods yet. Someone knew a weakness in Julieta’s gift and took advantage. Isabela’s knowledge of rare plants is needed to make an antidote. Bruno is really good at blaming himself. He is good with a sword and seeing part of the future, but sometimes it’s not enough.
You can recognize my art when someone is on the verge of dying and someone else is crying beside them. Yayy... Takes me back to another similar art I made ;) I sense a pattern here...
Part of the “fantasy-kingdom-au”.
#encanto#encanto fantasy kingdom au#royal madrigals#encanto au#devine madrigals#platonic soulmates#mirabel madrigal#bruno madrigal#hurt/comfort#whump
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Whumptober Day 17 - "Lost in these Memories" (JoJo's Bizarre Adventure)
More Fugo whump for today's @whumptober fic, (With Stand Hugs!)
~~~~~~~
Prompts Used: Collar, Touch Aversion, 'Leave me alone'
Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure Part 5
Character: Fugo
~~~~~~~
Read on Ao3
Read on FF.net
~~~~~~~
Bucciarati made up the tray of food, purposefully placing the bowl of soup, the spoon and napkin, and the glass of water as he mentally prepared to face his youngest team member again.
It had been five days now since Fugo had gone missing on a mission—three since he had been found, and he still hadn't left his room since they'd brought him home.
Bucciarati wasn't entirely sure what to do. Any attempt he had made to coax Fugo out had been met with firm denial, and while he could certainly understand such a reaction after a traumatic event, he knew Fugo was suffering and, worse, suffering alone. He had so far refused any comfort Bruno or Abbacchio tried to offer him, simply staying curled in bed, wrapped in blankets.
Bruno sighed and knocked on the teen's door before letting himself in, knowing he wouldn't get an answer.
"Fugo? I brought you some dinner," he said quietly as he entered the dim room.
Fugo briefly looked up at him from the book he was reading before flicking his eyes downward once more. "You can just put it there," he mumbled nodding to the side table.
Bucciarati did as asked and hesitated before he left. "Pannacotta, I'd like to check your injuries again if that's okay?"
Fugo's hands started to shake instantly and Bruno felt terrible for even bringing it up, but an infection wasn't going to do him any better either.
"No—n-no. I really can't stand anyone touching me right now. I—I can't. Please. I can do it myself. I promise I'll clean them well."
Bucciarati closed his eyes briefly, but nodded. "Alright. I'll leave the medical supplies in the bathroom for you. But if you need help with the ones on your back—"
"I don't! I'm fine!" Fugo snapped, then ducked his head, wrapping his arms around himself. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean…"
"It's all right," Bucciarati told him gently. "Please try to eat something. And let me know if you need anything else."
He slipped out of the room, and his fists clenched in fury the instant the door was closed, teeth grinding.
He and Abbacchio, along with the other soldati had already demolished the gang who had taken Fugo, but what good did it do when the damage had already been done? Fugo had been doing so well recently. He'd stopped jumping when Bruno and Abbacchio accidently brushed him, just generally doing better with human proximity. He'd even started to accept hugs when he was having bad nights, calming in Bruno's careful hold.
And now all of that had been erased instantly by the cruelty of his captors, using his aversion to touch against him. Mocking, hurting, using knives and fists to demolish the fond touches Bruno sought to provide when he was sure Fugo would be okay with it, taking that gained trust and tearing it to pieces.
The image of Fugo when they'd finally found him in that cargo container would forever haunt Bucciarati's nightmares. Shivering in a corner, bloody and bruised, bound hand and foot with a collar locked around his throat, keeping him upright so he could not pull away from his captors without choking himself.
Even the act of freeing Fugo had sent him into a panic attack and there was no comfort Bruno could offer aside from words, which was harder than he had thought it would be.
One look at the teen panicking and sobbing had sent Abbacchio back out to start delivering a justified beat-down of the bastards who had dared hurt Fugo.
And when they got him back, Bucciarati had only been able to do the bare minimum to tend to Fugo's injuries before he flat-out pushed him away and retreated to his room where he had stayed ever since.
Abbacchio met him in the kitchen, breaking Bucciarati out of his brooding thoughts.
"How is he?" the other man asked quietly.
Bucciarati shook his head, grabbing bowls to dish soup out for him and Abbacchio even though he wasn't hungry. "I honestly don't know what to do. There's no telling how long this will go on, especially if he refuses help—"
Abbacchio held up a hand. "First of all, hovering isn't going to help him," he said.
Bruno huffed. "I know that. And I'm trying not to, it's just…"
"I know," Abbacchio replied with a sigh. "I don't like seeing the kid like that either. But he needs space right now. He knows he's safe here and that's going to have to be enough for the moment."
Bucciarati pressed his lips together, knowing the other man was right.
Abbacchio's advice didn't help when he heard Fugo screaming in his sleep that night. He had to get up to see him even though he knew he would be rejected.
"Fugo?" he called as he tapped on the door, hearing the moaning and shifting of blankets. He opened the door and saw the boy wound up in his sheets, struggling, eyes and jaw clenched tight as he let out breathless sobs, chest heaving too quickly.
"Pannacotta," Bruno called firmly, standing beside the bed.
The blond only continued to struggle against the sheets, breaths becoming more and more panicked. Bruno finally had to reach out and help, unable to watch this anymore.
But Fugo flailed the instant Bruno touched the sheets. "Don't!" he shouted. "Leave me alone!"
"Panna, I'm just…" Bucciarati tried, but he pulled away.
Fugo's eyes finally opened and he scrambled to sit against the head of the bed, eyes darting around frantically, not seeing anything.
"Panna," Bruno called again and his head whipped over toward him. "You're home. You're safe. It's just me here."
Fugo's face crumpled, and he curled into himself. "I hate this, I hate this," he cried.
Bruno pulled a chair over to the side of the bed and sat carefully, making sure he wasn't in any way crowding Fugo.
"It's okay, Pannacotta."
"No it's not!" Fugo snapped, scrubbing at his eyes as he hugged himself, fingers digging into his ribs. "I-I fucked up! I got captured, and I l-let them control me, and I c-couldn't do anything about it!"
Something rippled in the corner and Bucciarati looked over to see Purple Haze materializing. The Stand moaned forlornly as it hugged its knees and rocked back and forth. Fugo didn't even seem to realize his Stand was out, proving how much distress he was currently in. As long as Purple Haze didn't start punching things though, Bruno wasn't going to worry about him.
"You didn't let them control you, Fugo," Bruno told him firmly. "They tortured you."
Fugo shook his head. "But I'm the one who let them see how much it bothered me. I told them to stop, but they—they just made a sick game of it. And I forgot—I almost forgot how much it could hurt." His voice hitched on a sob again. "Because I didn't have to worry for so long but now every time I try to sleep, it's just…that in my head again. But worse, because it's that and my recent capture combined."
Purple Haze wailed again, echoing his user's distress, burying his head in his knees.
Bucciarati's heart ached to hear Fugo talk about it. To know that his mind was so cruel as to combine his recent trauma and that of his horrible past only hurt all the more. He could only imagine how much mental anguish Fugo was going through.
"I don't…know how to make it better," Fugo sobbed. "I didn't want to be like this anymore, but they fucked it all up and I don't know what to do to fix myself."
Bucciarati barely resisted the urge to reach out and offer some form of comforting touch to Fugo. The boy was shaking so hard, just barely keeping the panic under control.
"I am so sorry that this happened, Panna," Bruno told him sincerely. "But none of it was your fault. It was all those bastards back there, and they won't be hurting anyone ever again—I can assure you of that. And you don't have to 'fix' yourself. There's nothing to fix. You survived, Panna, and sometimes that's its own strength."
Fugo didn't say anything. He simply pulled his knees up, making himself small, arms wrapped around himself. Bruno didn't think it was possible for someone in a room with another person—and a Stand—to look so alone, but Fugo was suffering so much right now that his pain burrowed deep into Bucciarati's soul and curled up there.
Purple Haze wailed again and Bruno straightened up, knowing he had to ask at least, for his own sanity if nothing else.
"Do you… want a hug?" he asked softly, seeing the way Fugo kept hugging his arms to his chest. "It's okay if you don't but I wanted to offer."
Fugo let out a soft sob. "I-I do but…I don't think I can handle that much touch right now. I just…I just want it to be like it was before and I'm so fucking mad!"
Purple Haze moaned, rocking forlornly in the corner. That was when Bucciarati had an idea.
"Panna, do you mind if I try something?" he asked, holding up his hands, palms out. "I'm not going to touch you, but please let me know if any of this is too much."
He manifested Sticky Fingers and the Stand crossed the room to kneel in front of Purple Haze. Fugo's stand shifted and looked up at the other. Sticky Fingers slowly opened his arms, not making a move, but waiting.
Purple Haze hesitated, moaned, then suddenly lurched forward and practically tackled Sticky Fingers backwards, letting out a mournful sound.
Bruno watched, shocked as Purple Haze curled up against Sticky and his Stand held onto Haze tightly, rocking him back and forth. It was an odd sensation, both physically and mentally comforting, like being wrapped in a soft blanket and just the perfect temperature.
After a few moments, Purple Haze started to let out a gurgling, almost purring sound, drooling against Sticky Fingers' shoulder.
Bruno glanced over to Fugo to see how he was taking this, and saw a slight embarrassed flush on his cheeks, as he watched the Stands, but his breathing had calmed down a little and he wasn't quite so tense anymore.
"Is it okay? Like that?" Bruno asked him hesitantly.
Fugo nodded. "Actually, yes. It's not bad at all."
Bruno smiled, relief flooding him. "That's good."
Fugo clenched the sheets in his hands, staring down as his cheeks flushed again. "Could you…stay, until I fall asleep?" he mumbled.
"Of course, Panna," Bruno replied, settling into the chair. "I won't go anywhere."
Fugo let out a shuddering sigh and lay back down in the bed, allowing Bruno to help untangle the rest of the covers and tuck them back into the mattress. He then took up a book and stayed there reading until Fugo fell asleep. All the while, Sticky Fingers and Purple Haze stayed cuddled together on the other side of the room.
Over the next few days, whenever Fugo was having a hard time, Purple Haze would appear somewhere in the apartment and Bruno or Abbacchio would deploy their Stands for comfort and hugging. Abbacchio had been somewhat hesitant at first, but Moody Blues had had other ideas, going directly up to Purple Haze and pulling him into a firm embrace.
Another week passed and Fugo finally ventured out of his room for more than just the bathroom and water.
"Feeling better?" Bruno asked kindly as he set some breakfast in front of Fugo.
The blond nodded, and though he was still covered in bruises, showing up all too much on his pale skin, he did look a little better. He picked at his nails, then looked up at Bruno. "Could I…try a hug?" he asked.
Bruno didn't say anything, simply opened his arms to let Fugo come to him.
The boy hesitated, then got out of his chair and came forward, tentatively looping his arms around Bucciarati before he leaned fully into him with a long exhale.
Bruno lightly wrapped his arms around Fugo's shoulders. "How's that?" he asked.
"I think I'm getting there," Fugo said sincerely.
~~~~~~~
Check out my Whumptober Masterpost HERE for more stories!
If you want to follow me on other social media or ask about commissions, find my info on My Carrd
#whumptober2023#no.17#collar#touch aversion#leave me alone#jojo's bizarre adventure#fanfic#aftermath of torture#implied/referenced torture tw#illusions to past abuse tw#pannacotta fugo whump#parental bruno bucciarati#sentient stands#stand hugs#jjba part 5#angst#hurt/comfort
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Fanart for ‘’While The City Slumbered’’ Thank you n00tsk00t and rebsiejo for your incredible work!
Anyone seeing this post must go read it RIGHT NOW
#fic reccomendations#jojos bizzare adventure#jojo#jojo part 5#jojo fanfic#giorno giovanna#giorno giovanna whump#giorno fanart#dio brando#dio jojo#jjba#jjba part 5#bruno buccellati#bruno buccerati#fanfic fanart
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Whumptober Day 20: Dont touch me!
#bruno madrigal#my art#bruno fanart#encanto bruno#encanto bruno madrigal#encanto#bruno madrigal art#bruno madrigal angst#bruno madrigal whump#whumptober 2022#Whumptober
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Waiting in Venice
You step in front of a projectile stand user, saving Bruno's life but he has to live with the aftermath.
Content Warnings: Blood, death, angst
You could imagine Leone's face when he sees you after this is all over. His lip would curl in disgust, letting his nose upturn at the sight of you before him. And despite this, there would be a shroud of grief in his eyes. Perhaps he would say something to scold you for leaving Bruno behind.
Leone wouldn't care that you had no other choice. You weren't going to abandon the man who reminded you love exists. Seeing Bruno's face horrified as your body plummeted to the ground at his feet was a small price to pay to keep him safe. Even if it was for just a second.
He didn't have much spare time to grovel at your downfall. In a scathing series of events, your sacrifice gave him the perfect window to take down the enemy stand user. From your dire spot on the ground, Bruno's pained grunts and screams as he disposed of the enemy echoed in your ears like an infectious ghost haunting your mind.
You felt guilty. It sounds silly but you gained a habit of feeling guilty after getting hurt. Bruno's reaction to your fallout would be a miserable cross to bear. It only added to the pain. Thankfully there was adrenaline to mask it but that only meant you bled faster with your heart beating like crazy.
He stumbled toward your withering body. His hands were clean despite hastily ridding of the enemy. He tried to look angry but really his brow furrowed into his desolate gaze.
"I thought I told you to stay behind?" His voice was rigid and white-hot with rage as if he was the one being betrayed by the boss.
"Br– Bruno..." you croaked. The taste of metal was thick on your tongue. You dismissed his anguish, playing by the clock of your sifting life. It fled from your body quicker than the words spilled from your mouth. "I never told... you... it meant a lot... a lot when you took me in... Tha–thank you."
"Stop." It was an order. He shook his head slowly from side to side. This fate was always a possibility. Such is life of Passione.
"This isn't so– so bad... if I'm gonna d–die I'd want it to be... to be like this..." Your vision began to spin.
"You deserved something different. This wasn't what I... you should've had better than this..." As your capo, of course he took responsibility but as your lover he was feverish and devastated.
He knelt down beside you, pressing his hands to the wound. To his blight, the wound was bigger than his palm. The ground you laid on was visible from the wound.
"We lost Fugo a-and Abbaccio..." you gasped. You began to shiver, the air felt as if it was ice water. "Why's this– this diff'rent?"
He clenched his jaw. "You know exactly why this is different."
You had no response. The thumping in your chest grew weaker and weaker. Bruno could do nothing but watch his lover slip through his fingers like the blood rushing from your body down the grates of the city storm drains.
"I had... so much t' tell you, Brun...o." Your eyelids grew heavy. "There's... so much... I never– never s–said..."
"Don't." He released a big sigh. Hopelessness pooled in his eyes seeing you this way. He put aside his frustration and gave into the sorrow. "Don't worry, tesoro. Please."
Bruno caressed your head, hushing you as he whispered quiet assurance in your ear. He spoke in crisp Italian. It brought tears to your eyes. Not knowing when you'd see him again made your gut wrench. You had never felt so scared. Countless times you had looked death in the eye and until now, you never considered the ramifications to their full extent.
"I don't... wanna die," you softly sobbed. "I'm sorry... I'm so selfish for... for making you worry."
Bruno's heart was in pieces. Your voice sounded like broken glass when you twitched and quivered in his embrace. Being a mafioso, he hadn't felt so powerless until now.
"Hush, tesoro." He held you close and gingerly rested kisses onto your forehead. "You did great work. But it's over now. You can rest."
"It's s-so cold... Bruno... hug... hug me tighter."
He complied, relishing the last bit of warmth that was quickly fleeting. He let a few tears slip very silently. Crying never came easy to him and the last time he had was a distant memory. It was different this time. This time, he felt as if he would never stop. Ever since you were recruited, he knew this would happen. It was just his luck to fall in love with such danger.
"I'll see you soon, my love." His lips whispered against your cooled flesh. He knew you were gone when you no longer trembled in his arms. Bruno waved his palm over your eyes that were partially open when you died.
You sat in a boat in the Venetian canals. Nobody else was there. Just you and the water. You tilted your head back, looking up to the sky. The sun hung just overhead. It was noon.
Memories flooded back to you. The blood and feelings of hopelessness and utter loss of control. As they played like a slide show in your head, you relaxed on the rim of the boat and sighed.
"You're here?" A smooth, deep voice spoke. It wasn't a question, more than it was a dismal observation.
You turned your head to the voice across from you. Funny, you never felt a weight in the boat but here he was. It was Leone. There was no certainty that it was really him. Even so, you had a promise to keep. He nonchalantly sat across from you, enjoying the ride. This made sense. Why he was here with you instead of Bruno. Bruno was gone– or no wait... you were gone.
Leone didn't have that look of disappointment you expected. He knew Bruno would be here soon enough. All you had to do was wait here in Venice.
"Yeah... and I have so much to tell you."
#bruno bucciarati x reader#bruno bucciarati#bruno bucellati x reader#bruno buccellati#jojos bizarre adventure#jojo part 5#golden wind#jojo no kimyou na bouken#jjba fanfic#jjba#jojo#jojo bruno#jjba golden wind#leone abbacchio#jjba abbacchio#whump#god i love making readers sad#i hope you are sobbing rn#vento aureo
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Finally gonna go for it
Hey, so I am finally sitting down at my new computer and I am getting set up to write away on the hostage arc I have been setting my eyes on since last year. I am trying to figure out who to have on the tagging list, so please let me know if you want to be a part of it!
The tags are gonna be: military whump, lady whump, torture, prisoners of war, hostage whump, etc. I am going to have a lot of words to set up the story, so it's probably going to be between 1-4k just to set up what i need to, including the mission that was happening. I am really excited for this. I am gonna tag those I think would be interested in it, but again, please hit me up in the comments, reblogs, or even my dms to let me know.
I got: @cpt-winters, @redd956, @straight-to-the-pain, @technom0ose, @actress4him, @whumperofworlds, @i-eat-worlds, @inscrutable-shadow, @gala1981, @thethistlegirl, @ocean-blue-whump, @noirineverysense.
If i missed your name or if you think someone else would be interested, let me know, but other than that, I hope you guys are ready for the load of pain and the fun arc I have planned out haha
#whump#izzy bullshit#whump community#war#military ocs#military writing#military whump#lady whump#new series#original characters#orginal story#original content#hostage whump#bruno stenberg#tag list
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Strong urge for married isabela/mariano first time badsex fic to exist but that sort of fic/hcs gets the fandom hunting me down I fear
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Oh god thinking about Encanto again and I am going feral
Bruno, who is depicted as so sweet and kind and doesn't enjoy raising his voice, getting in an absolutely ear-splitting, throat-destroying, all-out screaming match with Alma because "what, you think apologizing and calling me Brunito is going to erase 45 years of trauma?! I was completely ostracized! My sister grew up in the kitchen! My other sister doesn't know how to emote properly because she's had to fight to suppress them her entire fucking life!! And you're fucking sorry!?"
Somebody give me a Bruno that's finally unleashing all his pent-up anger issues on those that wronged him, a Bruno that is nearly sobbing from anger and grief at how good it felt to be giftless, to be a normal man for once in his damn life, before the Miracle was restored and be came right back to square one.
I wouldn't have come back to the family. If I were Bruno, now that the mountains had split and were traversable, I'd pack my bags.
#encanto#bruno madrigal#bruno madrigal angst#encanto prompt#*slaps roof of bruno* this bad boy can fit so much trauma in him#hes full of so much sad potential#ive said it before and ill say it again: i wanna whump the shit outta bruno
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Charles & Ollie: Chapter 10
Enjoy! And sorry, this took longer than expected
CW: pet whump, past kidnapping, fear of punishment, fear of abandonment, really bad headspace, unreliable narrator, internalized dehumanization, caretaker new master, multiple caretakers
———
Bruno was on their fifth cup of coffee when Callie came into the kitchen. She couldn't stop herself from checking on Ollie again, assuring herself that he was safe. He was asleep now, so that was probably a good sign. Maybe? Honestly, she wasn’t sure.
"Coffee? Again? Bruno, you're that stressed out?"
"Of course I'm stressed! We have a person in our apartment who can't even call us by our name without clear permission. Plus, as much as I hate it, legally speaking, he's stolen property. We could face some serious jail time for literally just helping someone. How could I ever not be stressed?"
Callie put her hands up in mock defeat.
"Hey, don't yell at me. I'm with you, this whole situation is very messed up. I just- maybe hold off the caffeine for a second. And, I dunno, stress is just so unlike you."
Bruno smiled half-heartedly. A moment of silence and calm passed. Callie took a deep breath, centering herself.
"Alright, well, we should have a plan. To minimize stress and keep Ollie safe. First things first, wasn't there a guy involved with pet rescue who used to work for the painter? He'll probably know what's best for Ollie."
Bruno nodded. "We also need to go shopping. Clothes for Ollie, toiletries, more groceries, and stuff like that. How about I go out shopping tomorrow while you stay here with Ollie and try to contract the guy?"
"Alright, it's a plan."
- - -
Ollie woke up on an unknown bed in an unfamiliar room. It took him a second to remember where he was, and when he did, he started crying. Muffled sobs racked his body as his mind wandered in a desperate loop. He wished Master Charles was here. Whenever he was crying or scared, Master Charles would calm him and sometimes hold him. Ollie would get a treat and gentle words. But now, he'd be lucky if these people even decided to keep such an annoying pet.
It was a bad thing to do, thinking of his past owner. So, so incredibly bad. He belonged to Bruno and Callie now, both of whom hated his old owner. To be missing Master Charles, or worse, crying for him, was disobedient, bad. He was a bad pet. They'd punish Ollie for sure. They'd kick him out afterward, assuming the two wouldn't decide to just kill him. And he had just got a new home. He didn't want to lose it so fast.
Once he had finally calmed a bit, he quickly dried his eyes and tried to think of something else. When his thoughts proved that almost everything reminded him of old Master and thus made him feel worse, he forced his mind blank. He cleared out all of his thoughts like he was throwing a white sheet over something and ignoring the movement underneath.
The sun had just begun to rise. He had woken up early enough to make breakfast for the new owners that said they weren't his owners. Maybe he could change their minds, or, at the very least, change Mx. Bruno's. That one seemed very nice, despite being a bit stressed. They remind him of- no. Do not think about Master Charles! Stop it stop it stop it stop itstopitstopitstopit.
Maybe he could be a good Friend and make them both want to keep him. Failing that, he might make Mx. Bruno love him. Maybe he wouldn't mess everything up this time.
As he crept out of the room they had given him as quietly as he could, Ollie purposefully ignored the fact that he didn't know the first thing about how to be a Friend.
- - -
The kitchen was small but pretty. It was decorated with lots of flower imagery, and a fresh vase of daisies was on the table. It smelled like spring and tea in here.
Tea! Master Charles liked to drink tea sometimes, and Bruno had a cup of it when Ollie first met them, although, after that, they were drinking coffee. If Ollie could find either drink, he might find favor with them. And if he found favor with them, maybe they'd prevent him from getting kicked out. Perhaps they'd even give out lighter punishments, even though Ollie knew he wasn't worth that. Master Ch- old master was just nice. Ollie knew how harsh he deserved.
After a while spent searching, bad pet, sneaking around and looking through things- no. He was being good. He was making breakfast. It was okay to look if it was for his owners. (At least he hoped so.) Finally, he found some tea and a kettle. He hoped that clove tea was good enough for his owner, but he didn’t see anything else.
What else could he do? He saw eggs and fruit while trying to locate the tea, but had no clue if either would be okay. He barely knew that Bruno liked tea, based on yesterday and the fact that the kitchen already smells like it. He had no clue what either person would want to eat. They wouldn't throw him out for this, right? Some owners definitely would, but these two seemed nice. They gave a chance to a worthless, second-hand, dirty mutt like him. The same people who would throw out a pet that couldn't make food would've never taken in a stray in the first place.
He'll be fine. Everything’s fine. He’ll be fine. If he repeated it over and over and thought of nothing else, maybe he'd convince himself. He'll be fine.
———
Tag list: @whumpzone @whump-me-all-night-long @whumpsweetwhump @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @apples-and-whump @professional-idiocy @nicolepascaline @cowboy-anon @wolfeyedwitch @kim-poce @guachipongo @badluck990 @secretwhumplair @batfacedliar-yetagain @whumpsday @extrabitterbrain @morelikepainsley
#charles & ollie#ollie#Bruno & Callie#whump#pet whump#pet whumpee#tw fear of punishment#fear of punishment#tw fear of abandonment#fear of abandonment#caretaker new master#caretaker new whumper#multiple caretakers#unreliable narrator#bad headspace
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