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chaotic-orphan · 10 months

Note

Hii! So I was wondering if you can do this Sick and Delirious Villain x Hero Story! If you do, there can be a part two. You don’t have to tho but this is what it’s about if you decide to do it. If you don’t wanna read all of it, there is a shortened version of both parts at the very bottom. (But you kind of have to read Villains past to understand)

TW: Panic attacks, SA, Vomit/Throwing up

Villain backstory: Villain had a terrible family. Their parents were neglectful and their brother was absolutely horrible. He would SA, torture (you can decide), and make Villain throw up. Sticking their fingers down their throat and then pulling out just in time to punching their stomach so hard and so many times that they throw up. And Villains parents stood there and did nothing. When Villain was able to leave, they were messed up in the head by the things their family did.

Part 1: Villain and Hero and secretly dating and Hero still doesn’t know how Villains past, and they never pushed. Villain was sick, a fever of 103 and delirious (preferably Hypoactive Delirium), and Hero was at work. Villain woke up from bed feeling really bad and ran to the bathroom to throw up. Seeing their past with throw up, they didn’t want to do it anymore and started crying and hyperventilating. Hero got home five minutes after and was on the phone with Superhero. They heard the villain throwing up and crying so they told Superhero they needed to go. Hero forgot to end the call and shoved the phone in their pocket.

Hero walked into the bathroom and saw a vulnerable, sick, mid panic attack, Villain. Hero tried to comfort them but the were so scared and acted like they didn’t even see Hero. Villain being delirious accidentally told Hero everything that happened in their childhood through sobs and vomiting.

After hearing that, Hero tries to coax Villain back to bed but they felt like they couldn’t move, so Hero carried them. Hero ended up calming Villain down and putting them to sleep.

All while Superhero was still on the phone, realizing Hero and Villains relationship.

Part 2: After last night, Hero decided to take the day off to take care of Villain. Villain was asleep but Hero was up and they got a phone call from Superhero, telling them that they have to come into work today because they are short staffed. Hero tried to protest but Superhero wasn’t hearing any of it. Villain eventually woke up while Hero was trying to sneak out Villain started whining and crying that they need Hero with them but Hero left, but not before putting Villain back to sleep.

While Hero was working, Superhero broke into their apartment while Villain was awake. Villain, being delirious enough as it is, thought it was Hero coming home from work but soon realized that it was Superhero, but it was too late. They were on the floor because Superhero sedated them to drag them out the house. But hero walks in on it.

Short story of it: Part one: Villain and Hero are dating and Villain is sick and delirious and has to throw up, causing a panic attack. Hero walks in on it while on the phone with Superhero and forgets to hang up before helping them. They put Villain back to bed and the next day they decide to stay home.

Part two: Superhero said they have to go in today so Hero does. Superhero brakes into their apartment and give Villain a sedative so they can take them back to their base, but hero walks in on it.

Delirious Villain x Hero, part One:

Anon, talk about putting in the work! This isn’t a prompt but itself a fully plotted out story that you should be proud of thinking of, I would never have imagined this no matter how hard I tried! It is such a fun concept to explore, and I basically have it roadmapped for me— so seriously, thank you for this prompt, it is my honour to put my spin on it <3

I hope you enjoy~ and very sorry for the hUUUUGE delay but part 2 + 3 will come, I will continue this, it was very hard to get the emotion right, so sorry for the delay again I just wanted it to pack the right punch

CW: vomit (described in disgusting detail, it made me a bit queasy ngl), general sickness, fever, hallucinations, distraught whumpee, villain whumpee, past abuse implied, past abuse described, PTSD, panic attacks, hyperventilating, anxiety, past fear, fear of being sick, past trauma, traumatic sickness, forced caretaking, Whumpee doesn’t want caretaking, hero caretaking, hero caretaker, hero x villain, weird listening superhero, being spied on, worried Hero, worried caretaker, familial abuse, abuse of power, vulnerable whumpee, past whump implied, past whump, invasive whumper, invasive Whump (making whumpee vomit physically)

*~*~*~*~*

Hero was checking their phone every five seconds. Villain was currently at home, burning up, after having barely slept last night. Everytime Hero tried to bring them a cool cloth, or ibuprofen or paracetamol, Villain batted their help away, saying with their usual reassuring smile it’s just a cold. I’ll get over it. It’s just a 24 hour bug, I’ll be fine in the morning.

The metro doors opened and the announcer chimed that they were below Hero Tower HQ, South. Hero put their phone away, worrying their bottom lip as they stepped out onto the platform and walked with the crowd up the steps. The bustling streets of Central buzzed around Hero as they ascended to the busy streets of the city.

Hero pressed the button for the traffic light, waiting for the green man to turn on. Hero pulled their phone out of their pocket again.

Still no messages from Villain.

Maybe Hero shouldn’t be here. Maybe they should call in sick and go home and look after Villain. Villain hated being sick, and not in the way that most people did. It was more than just an inconvenience that it would have been to Hero or anyone else. It was an absolute denial and fear, because Villain didn’t want to get sick so they never got sick. It was out of sheer force of will, that in all the four years Hero had known Villain and the last few months they had lived together, last night was the first time Hero had even known Villain could get sick.

The traffic lights changed to red, and the green man for walking turned on and Hero walked across the road, debating whether or not to go home and be with Villain.

“Don’t be dramatic,” Villain had said, their nose stuffy. “You have to work. You like working.”

“Yeah but I like you more,” said Hero. Villain smiled, put a hand on Hero’s knee and squeezed. “Vil—“

“You’re going. End of story. I’ll just be at home making soup and watching Judge Judy or something, I’ll be fine.”

“Why won’t you let me look after you?”

“You can look after me, after work, okay?”

“Vil—“

“Why are you arguing with a sick person?” Villain asked with a lacklustre grin. “Tell you what, if I get bad tomorrow and I need you, I’ll text you, okay Mom?”

Hero rolled their eyes when Villain leaned over and kissed their forehead, as if that was the end of the conversation and Villain wanted Hero to drop it. So Hero did.

And now they felt terrible. They should really go home. Hero turned to cross the pedestrian crossing again when they saw Superhero on the opposite side, grinning at them. Superhero raised a hand in a wave and said: “Hero! Glad to see I’m not the only one running late today.”

Well they were fucked. Now they had to go into work. Maybe they could fake an illness later and get away early. Superhero was beside them then and Hero naturally fell into step with them, turning to walk towards the Hero Tower that rose higher than the buildings surrounding it.

“That villain on twelfth by the docks, Patrelli got a lead in the case so we got a debrief on that this morning,” said Superhero in his thick Italian-American accent. “Plus the mayor has summoned us to City Hall for god knows what—“

“Probably giving out that he’s forced to pay a parking fine,” Hero grumbled, their eyes still glued to their phone as Superhero laughed. A booming, happy sound. Superhero opened the door for Hero and followed through to the foyer after.

“Probably,” Superhero agreed. The pair were stopped at the reception by Conny who held up a pen and a card. “It’s for Creta,” said Conny and Superhero nodded, taking the pen and signing his name.

“She still in the hospital?” Superhero asked, concerned, handing Hero the pen absently. Hero took it and signed their name beside Superhero’s. Then handed the pen back to a sad looking Conny.

“Yeah. She is furious. She hates being useless.”

Superhero nodded sympathetically, saying: “well tell her from me that she wasn’t useless when we put that maniac behind bars.”

“I’ll tell her,” said Conny. “It will mean a lot to her.”

They said their goodbyes and walked to the lift. When they got in, Hero took their phone out again after the doors slid closed.

Then the lift stopped. Hero looked up to see Superhero’s finger on the stop button, and raised an eyebrow in question.

Superhero nodded at the phone in Hero’s hand and said: “what’s wrong?”

Hero straightened on instinct, putting the phone down at their side. “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.”

“Then why’re you checking your phone every five seconds?” Superhero asked, arms folded over a broad chest, moulded from years of gruelling training.

Hero thought about lying and playing it off, but they thought of Villain at home alone, sick and they had to tell the truth. Superhero already suspected something was wrong anyways.

“My partner,” Hero sighed, rocking back on their heels and slumping against the metal wall of the lift. “They’re sick at home right now, and they hate being sick and they wouldn’t tell me how bad they were yesterday but I know they had a fever last night and—“

“Okay, Hero,” said Superhero gently. “It’s okay.”

“They never get sick though, and they’re so stubborn that they refuse to accept any help. Last night they wouldn’t even take any painkillers and—“

Superhero put a hand on Hero’s shoulder and squeezed reassuringly. “It’s okay, Hero,” Superhero said again. “It’s only natural to be concerned about the ones we love, especially in our line of work where we can’t exactly turn the hero thing off.”

Hero laughed weakly at that, mumbling a breathy “yeah.”

“And some people are also just bad patients,” Superhero continued. “Some people don’t want others to see them sick because they’re vulnerable and weak—“

“But I don’t think that,” said Hero.

Superhero nodded with that same gentle smile and said: “but your partner probably does. It must be hard for them to know you’re a strong Hero saving people everyday, they don’t want you to feel you have to save them.”

“But I want to help,” Hero pouted and Superhero nodded again.

“I know. So here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna go upstairs and attend the debrief from the docks and after you can go home and look after your partner.”

Hero’s eyes lit up at that, “really?”

Superhero nodded with a slight laugh and dropped their hand from Hero’s shoulder, turning to press the start button on the lift again. “Yeah really. You never take time off, I’ll tell the boss you weren’t feeling great.”

“You’re a good friend, Superhero,” said Hero softly. Superhero shot a grin back over his shoulder, “yeah you’re not too bad yourself.”

*~*~*~*~*

Villain woke from their fitful sleep in a panic, peeling themselves from the sticky sheets beneath them, their body slick with sweat acting like an adhesive with the bed. The movement was too sudden, too much, Villain’s entire world spinning as their knees hit the ground beside the bed.

That horrible, familiar warm feeling crawling up their throat and threatening to burst, but Villain didn’t… they didn’t want to. They didn’t want to.

“I don’t want it,” they said their speech slurred and far away as they swallowed and shook their head, trying to swallow to stop the inevitable. “I don’t want it. Idonwanto please… please don’t…”

A sudden rush from their swirling stomach climbing hot up Villain’s throat and despite themselves they pushed up off their knees and into the bathroom. Bare feet padding against the tile. Villain grabbed the lid of the toilet and yanked it up, along with the seat and grabbed the edges of the bowl, the cool porcelain barely offering any comfort. They were still too hot. Too warm. Burning from the inside out.

“No… no… no… please don’t…I’m sorry for eating, I said I was sorry…. Please…” Villain sobbed to the empty room, snot running readily down their lips and dripping from their chin into the toilet bowl.

A hand settled heavy on Villain’s shoulder, burning them with the touch. “If you don’t throw up in the next five seconds you’ll be sorry, Vil.”

“No,” Villain wail, then gagged on their own tears and saliva and shoved it down their throat again. “Please… I’ll be good. I don’t want… I donwantople—“

Another hot hand on the back of Villain’s neck and their head was slammed over the toilet bowl, pinning them against the bowl and with the force of it, Villain couldn’t fight the feeling that crawled warm and thick up their throat and despite every fibre of their being fighting against it Villain vomited violently into the bowl.

Villain threw themselves back with a sob, their back hitting the porcelain wall of the tub, legs bent beneath them on the cool tile as Villain wiped their mouth with the back of their arm, panicked sobs wracking through their body.

“You have to do it again, Villain.”

“I can’t please—“ Villain begged, pleading with air.

“You can and you will. Look at you. You’re pathetic. Crying and covered in your own snot and sweat.”

“Please brother, please,” Villain croaked. “Please I don’t—“

“You don’t want to?!” Brother snarled, and Villain shrunk back on themselves. Shivering on the floor and hugging their arms around themselves. “Were you going to tell No, Villain?”

“I—“ Villain began then they were on their knees, hugging the toilet as another wave of vomit slid vicious up their throat. They coughed and spluttered and still it came. All the while Brother stood beside them, phantom hand in Villain’s hair, screaming: “I decide what you do and do not want, Villain. You think you can look after yourself? You’re so weak you can’t even fight me off. Can’t even think about trying to fight me. So weak you can’t even tell your beloved Hero about any of this.”

“Leave… them… alone,” Villain said, then hurled for the third time into the bowl, hacking and gasping. Villain sucked in a breath through their clogged up mouth, because their nose was filled with still streaming snot. They were disgusting. They looked disgusting. They should be able to fight this, but no. Brother is right. Brother’s always right.

A phantom hand began petting Villain’s sweat slicked hair and it made them want to gag again. “It’s so cute how you defend your little Hero. You used to do that with Mom and Dad too, do you remember? They still abandoned you after you did that. Just like Hero will.”

“No,” Villain sobbed, their voice a strangled cry as a fresh wave of tears started rolling down their cheeks. “Hero love me.”

“Parents are supposed to love you too, Vil. You’re just… unlovable. Don’t worry, though, when I find you again I’ll love you how you should be loved. We can pick up where we left off… would you like that?”

“NO!” Villain screamed, throwing a weak arm behind them and wacking it off the radiator instead of Brother. “GET AWAY FROM ME! LEAVE ME—“ Villain descended into another coughing fit “—ALONE! Leave! LEAVE! You’re not REAL!”

Villain started coughing again, their chest rising and falling heavy from the effort of screaming and they moaned into the bowl of the toilet seat as they felt another gurgling in their stomach and knew they would be vomiting again in a minute.

They were miserable, and feeling sorry for themselves and all they wanted was to be healthy. They didn’t want to dredge that dark hole of their childhood up again. Didn’t want to hear Brother’s voice so clear… warmth creeped up their throat and this time Villain didn’t fight it.

*~*~*~*~*

Hero unlocked the door to the apartment finally. Their phone was between their shoulder and their ear, grocery bags hanging out of them filled with chicken and vegetables, chicken soups and more painkillers. Hero threw in a couple of those gel ice packs too just to make sure Villain would cool down and feel more comfortable.

“No, Superhero, they’ll be fine. You don’t need to come over…”

“Why not?”

“Because they’re sick and they don’t even want me seeing them like this,” said Hero, dropping their bags and their keys on the kitchen counters. “Thank you for the sentiment really— I’ll just need a few days.”

“Of course, Hero—“ Hero blanked the rest of whatever Superhero said as they heard Villain screaming from the bathroom then coughing up a lung.

“GET AWAY FROM ME! LEAVE ME—“ Villain cried, descending into a fit of coughs and Hero ran to the bathroom, giving Superhero a hasty goodbye and dropping to their knees beside Villain who was draped over the toilet bowl, vomit crawling thick up their spine like an alien followed by the unpleasant sound in the toilet.

“Villain! Villain! I’m here—“

“Alone! Leave! LEAVE! YOU’RE NOT REAL!” Villain cried, shaking their head and hugging the toilet bowl tighter.

“Vil…” Hero said softly, but they didn’t put a hand on them. Instead they ran back to the kitchen filling a glass with water and took the half melted gel ice packs from the bag and ran back into Villain. They grabbed a towel from the wall and draped it over Villain’s shoulders gently.

Villain flinched at the contact, jerking back violently and swinging a hand out aimed at Hero. Hero dodged it and sank to their knees beside Villain, gently pushing the ice pack to Villain’s forehead. Villain let out an audible sigh and let their weight fall into Hero’s hand.

“Vil… it’s me. It’s Hero. I got off work.”

“He… Hero…” Villain croaked and then broke down into a fit of sobs. Hero didn’t know what to do. So they just gently pushed them away from the toilet seat, let their back lean against the back of the bath and sat across from them, keeping the ice pack on Villain’s forehead.

“You’re burning up, Vil,” said Hero. “You should’ve called me!”

“Didn’t…” Villain said, out of breath and exhausted. “Didn’t wanna.”

“Why?” Hero implored, voice bordering on desperate. Villain put a clammy hand over Hero’s on their forehead and opened their eyes, looking at Hero.

“Didn’t want you to see h-him,” said Villain with an effort. “To see me like this.”

As if on cue Villain jerked forward and hugged the toilet bowl as another round of vomit wracked Villain’s body. Hero put a hand on their back and rubbed soft circles in their back as Villain groaned and spit. Then they started shaking over the bowl, and Hero whispered soothing sweet nothings to them.

Villain shook their head, sniffing. “You don’t know.. you don’t know,” Villain wailed.

“Don’t know what, Vil?”

Villain cried harder at the question, shaking their head.

“I can’t… I can’t… I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I don’t want to vomit again please brother, please—“ Villain mewled, sobbing and shaking their head. Before Hero could say anything Villain gagged and another wave of vomit tore through them, shuddering and sobs followed the particularly violent attack.

“Just hit me,” Villain whispered, coughing into the bowl and spitting out phlegm. “Just beat me today, please. Just hit me. I’ll be good. I’ll be good. I’ll be good, Brother, please.”

Hero was sitting on their calves, rubbing soothing circles on Villain’s back and stunned into silence. Hero didn’t know who Brother was. They had never heard that name before from Villain, but whatever they did to Villain clearly traumatised them.

Shocked tears refused to fall from Hero’s eyes, but Villain wasn’t the only one feeling sick as Villain continued to babble and plead between bouts of vomiting. It must have been an hour or two they spent on the bathroom floor, Villain begging with ghosts to stop hurting them, to stop making them throw up. Forcing them to vomit.

It became so heart wrenchingly clear why Villain didn’t like being sick, and didn’t want Hero to be there when they were.

Hero was glad they were there. Helping Villain, being there for Villain trying to comfort them in whatever way they could.

After what felt like years Villain sat back against the bath, smacking their tongue against their dry mouth. They found Hero’s eyes and they tried for a smile, a bit more clarity and recognition in their gaze.

“I… I think it’s finished now,” said Villain and Hero nodded, still frozen in place, but they forced their limbs to move forward. “Hero…”

“Let’s get you to the bedroom, Vil, then we can talk,” said Hero. Villain didn’t fight them, they didn’t have the energy. Hero put an arm behind Villain’s shoulder, gently placing Villain’s heavy arm around Hero’s neck, then under their knees. Villain let out a groan as Hero hoisted them up. “Are you okay?”

“Mmm,” said Villain. Hero didn’t know if that was a yes or no but it was okay.

Villain was dead weight in Hero’s arms, not even having the energy to hold themselves and lighten the burden they were putting on poor Hero. They shouldn’t be sick and they hated themselves for feeling like this, but having Hero see them like this.

They would never forgive themselves.

Hero drew the bedsheets back and lay Villain down on the mattress and pillow. “I’m going to get the ice packs, are you okay?”

Fresh tears were streaming down Villain’s face at the embarrassment… but they croaked out a hoarse: “yeah.”

Hero nodded, going back to the bathroom and picking up the stray ice packs before returning to Villain’s side. When they got back Villain was already asleep. Hero let out a soft sigh, worrying their bottom lip as they watched Villain’s chest rise and fall peacefully.

The ice packs were still cold in Hero’s hands but they were dripping, and they didn’t want to put them on Villain and risk waking them up. So they put them back in the freezer and walked back to the bathroom to clean it up.

They flushed the toilet and opened the window to let out the smell, gathered the damp towels from the ground and put them in the laundry hamper. They cleaned the toilet, and mopped the sweat up from the floor with a towel. They’d actually mop later. They didn’t really want to be away from Villain right now.

Before Hero left the bathroom they saw their phone on the ground and picked it up pocketing it.

They thought they had ended the call with Superhero so there was no need to check the phone.

No need to check the call logs and see that in their panic over Villain’s screaming, they didn’t actually end the call when they thought they did.

If Hero did check their call logs they’d have realised that Superhero didn’t end the call either. A two minute call turned into a forty-five minute call, Superhero too shocked to drop the phone from their ear when they heard Villain’s voice.

Villain.

Their enemy.

The person Hero was so worried about being sick, that they rushed home and left work early for. When Hero never left work early.

It all suddenly made terrible, awful sense to Superhero why they had never met Hero’s partner. Always an excuse made to stop them from meeting.

The betrayal stung in Superhero’s chest and when they finally ended the call, they nearly crushed their phone in their hand with how tight they were holding it.

*~*~*~*~*

Continued here.

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bandits-whump-collection · 1 year

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Whumpees who have suffered so much that they no longer accept a gentle touch.

They lash out like a cornered beast, afraid that any attempt to show softness is a trick, a trap to hurt them.

Caretaker hopes that one day, they'll be able to offer a lap to lay on and feel safe in.

#whump prompt #emotional whump #past whump

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rizzoto-whump · 8 months

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"Is everything okay, Caretaker?" Whumpee asked, concern etched on their face.

Caretaker grunted and rolled over, turning their back to Whumpee. "I'm fine. Just tired."

Whumpee frowned, feeling hurt by Caretaker's sudden coldness. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No," Caretaker snapped. "Just leave me alone."

"But-" Whumpee said softly, reaching out to touch Caretaker's shoulder.

Caretaker shrugged them off and sat up, glaring at Whumpee. "I said leave me alone. Can't you see I'm trying to sleep?"

#whump #whump prompt #whumpee x caretaker #emotional whump #exhausted caretaker #exhaustion #angry caretaker #writing prompt #hiding pain #comforting whumpee #hurt/comfort #psychological whump #whump tropes #sleep deprived #past whump

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cricket-reader · 1 year

Text

The Smell of Alcohol and Cologne

Masterlist | A03 | Wattpad | Recommendations | Inbox

Summary: Tony Stark’s assistant has a flashback and finds comfort in Tony’s arms.

Warnings: Past abuse, hints of SA, MC almost jumps off the tower, mention of a dead mother, fluff, it’s kinda dumb, pining, self-deprecating thoughts, self-blame

Word Count: 3,000

Looking at his assistant Tony takes his time to look at each and every feature. Sure, he stares a lot, but she’s always too oblivious to notice. It’s kinda cute—but at the same time, irritating.

He’s never been able to really stare from this close a distance. She just usually would make some excuse of how she has to do one thing or another.

Her long dark lashes lie gently on her cheeks that are slightly pink, being warm from the blanket and the fireplace. Her freckles are more prominent up close and he can see her perfectly plucked eyebrows. How she manages to keep up her perfect appearance is beyond him.

Despite her shy nature, they have grown closer—helped mainly by his personality. He’s glad for that.

Noting that she probably isn’t going to wake soon, and that she usually doesn’t get much sleep, Tony decides to take her to bed. He only knows that because he asked Jarvis if she was still up one night; when he asked why she was, Jarvis said that she usually never gets much sleep.

Trying to be as careful, quiet, and gentle as possible, Tony lifts her small body, bringing it to his room—since hers is not finished being painted.

She only gains half her consciousness when she is picked up. In her stupor, she smells the light scent of cologne and alcohol and knows she is being carried somewhere by a man. She’s had night terrors like this before, but this felt too real.

It was strange though; the cologne wasn’t the same. Sometimes she had flashbacks in which she could faintly smell the cologne and alcohol, but it isn’t the same as it is now.

Tony notices her body stiffen and her laboured breathing which makes him concerned.

She feels as though she might just get sick.

When Tony began to lower her onto his bed, she freaked. Gently lowering the beauty onto his bed, he covers her with the duvet and looks at her with admiration.

Adrenaline sent her flying up from her lying position on Tony’s bed. Confusion warps her brain. This can’t be real, she thinks.

Tony sees her wide eyes and immediately wants to comfort her, but as he draws closer, she screws her eyes shut, scrambling to the other side of the bed and curling into a ball. This, of course, shocks him. He didn’t understand what was going on; he has never seen her like this.

He faintly hears her mumbling to herself, and when he strains to listen in, he hears her words.

“It’s not real,” plays on repeat. Almost as if she is trying to convince herself—which she is.

Tony gently calls out her name. Her whole body freezes when he gently rests his hands on her arm. This can’t be happening, not again. Tears stream down her face. She thought Tony was one of the good men. Turns out he’s just the same as him.

Deciding she doesn’t want a similar cycle to repeat, she will fight back until he really hurts her—perhaps with a whip like he did.

Tony blinks when she slaps his arm away. She has never so much as shown any reaction similar to this. Even when he noticed that people were clearly bothering her, she kept her cool. He knows this because he often thinks that should he be in that situation, he would slap the person silly.

This is why his concern deepens, almost to a point that is too far. Something is wrong. Something is very wrong. What is it? He has not a clue.

He calls out her name as if trying again, softer this time. She tightens her hold on herself shaking her head as if to clear the situation from her mind; however, she, deep down, knows that it won’t work. It’s too real not to be.

Shifting on the bed so he can get a better stance, she flies up out of the bed. Startled, a wide-eyed Tony jumps up as well.

Now she is for certain; this is real. This is happening. Racing out of the room, Tony panics and does the only thing his brain can think of doing. Being a stressful situation, adrenaline was high in both the individuals for different reasons. If you are not aware, in a state such as this, the brain may sometimes make irrational decisions. With that in mind, Tony chases after the woman not entirely thinking the situation through.

She hears his footsteps. He’s going to beat her. Pummel her into submission.

The door to the stairs bursts open. She flies up the stairs with Tony right behind her. After several floors they reach the top. Tony’s eyes widen as he realises what is about to take place if he doesn’t get ahold of her. He can’t have that. He won’t let that happen.

The door to the roof bursts open as she runs to the edge of the building—it’s not as if she’s suicidal, but this was the best option her mind could provide her. She’d rather die than have to suffer like that again.

Tony felt like he might cry out in relief when he was able to wrap his arms around her to prevent her from getting any further.

She thrashes around in his arms as one final attempt, proving itself futile. Gently cooing, trying to console her, he starts walking back into the tower with great difficulty. In there he will be able to let her go, he just can’t when their out on the roof. She sure as hell isn’t dying on his watch. Once they finally get in the building. He tells Friday to lock the door, cursing himself for not thinking of that sooner. If she would have succeeded right then and there, he would have been at fault.

Finally out of his arms, she stumbles before crashing into the tiled floor. Tony feels his heart break seeing how broken she looks. Squatting down to match her height, he carefully says her name.

Her head snaps up. The look of sheer terror upon her face is like a punch to Tony’s gut. Is she scared of him? She slowly begins to scoot away from him, her eyes still wide. His heart completely shatters and he feels nauseous; she is scared of him. No, terrified is more like it. He stands up, frowning with his brows furrowed with concern

“Please don’t… please, I’m sorry! Whatever I did wrong I can fix it! Please, I’m sorry! I’ll be good! I’ll be better! Please!” She sobs, with a certain sense of brokenness. This makes Tony freeze. Slowly he feels the anger creeping into his body once he processes her words.

It all makes sense now. He doesn’t know how he didn’t see it sooner. Obviously she must have been having a flashback. The thing that makes his stomach twist is his mind wondering what on Earth could elicit such a response.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he says, slowly lowering himself so he doesn’t tower above her; certainly she’d be even more scared if he stayed like that.

She peeks up from her ball she curled herself into and sees that Tony is sitting on the cold tile, a nice space between the two of them—not too far and not too close.

“You were going to,” she mumbles, picking at her sleeves. His brows furrow in confusion. What did he do wrong?

“No I wasn’t,” he gently insists.

“Why else would you carry me to bed?”

One sentence.

Once sentence is all it took to destroy him. That along with her tear stained face as she looks down to her sleeves that she’s still picking at. He’s never seen anything as heartbreaking as this. His stomach churns as he thinks more and more of her words.

“Sweetheart… I, I never—it-it wasn’t like that,” he stutters, an underlying tone of pain evident in his voice.

“But you were carrying me to bed,” she persists, speaking softly as if not to anger him.

Should it be any other time, the expression on her face was adorable. Her brows furrowed, a small pout on her lips and her head tilted slightly to the right.

But Tony wasn’t thinking about that at the moment.

He was still trying to wrap his brain around the words she had just spoken to him. Never in his life would he have imagined anything like that coming from her lips.

She was always so happy and carefree, a sense of beautiful innocence with every movement. He doesn’t know how she could keep it up; he certainly doesn’t do it well. Locking himself up and not sleeping for days, looking like shit. He wonders how many times she has felt the way he has, but kept a smile on her face.

“I wanted you to sleep somewhere comfortable.”

Her frown deepens, “then why not leave me on the couch?”

“Because that’s not comfortable, I was going to take it instead,” he shrugs off the last sentence as if it were no big deal. Sure, it wasn’t much of a big deal to him, but to her? To her it was too good to be true. He couldn’t have let her sleep in his bed without wanting something in return. That’s not how it works.

“I would have taken you to yours, but they are still painting it,” he sheepishly rubs his neck. He hopes she doesn’t ask too many questions about that. It was supposed to be a surprise. He was going to have her spend the night in Natasha’s room since she was out on a mission with Wanda and Clint.

He sure as hell was not about to go in Natasha’s room. Though he will endlessly deny it, that woman terrified him. He knew that Natasha would be okay with her sleeping in her room though; he had asked prior, telling his plan to her and Clint. He was honestly kind of surprised she so willingly accepted. He would have thought it would take much convincing.

“Painted? What for?” Her expression grows worried and confused as she rushes to say, “I don’t recall ruining the walls.”

“You didn’t, I just thought a change would be nice,” he smiles. Doubt now enters his mind and he frowns, “unless of course you don’t think so.”

He mentally curses himself. For a genius, he can be kind of stupid some times, often rushing into things without truly thinking it through—take Ultron for example.

“So… you weren’t ..going to…”

“No, of course not,” he gently reassured her. She releases a breath and puts her head back on her knees.

Embarrassment flows through her. How stupid she believes herself to be. She made a fool of herself in front of her boss—of course he didn’t want anything like that from her! He’s Tony Stark for goodness sake! He can get women that are actually gorgeous—models really. He would have no use to use someone as ugly as her. She’s sure he has a line of women he could get any second.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles, not lifting her head. She’s too embarrassed to even look at him.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, darling,” he assures her. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Darling.

Darling is what her mother use do to call her. She hasn’t been called that since the day she died. Tony didn’t even realise he let that slip. It just happened.

Her heart clenches and she looks up at him. Tears blur her vision. Tony hates seeing her like this. What he would do if only he could take all of that suffering away from her. She shakes her head as she looks down. Blinking, the tears fall down her face.

“What do you want now?” He questions, ready to get anything and everything she desires. “I can get you anything you want.”

He couldn’t give her what she wanted though. Money simply couldn’t buy it. What she wanted was for her mama to hold her whilst softly singing a lovely lullaby in the old rocking chair by the brick fireplace in the cosy kitchen. Holding her, and running her fingers through her hair.

She couldn’t ask him to hold her. She has already made a fool out of herself. She also believes that, should she ask, he would laugh in her face. Why on Earth would the great Tony Stark comfort some weak girl?

She shakes her head. Tony frowns before telling her if she changes her mind to just tell him or Friday. Not wanting to do absolutely nothing for her, he nervously asks, “would you like a hug?”

Now here’s the thing about Tony Stark. He wasn’t one to show his nervousness. He always acted like he was chill, arrogant, and sure of himself. He never got nervous around women; in fact, he was great in that department—except when it came to her.

Something about her drew him in. Not in the typical lust-filled way—no, in an emotional sort of relation. Sure, she was quite a sight to see, but he actually felt things for her. Not just physically.

For this reason, he is so anxious as he asks for the hug. Tony doesn’t think she will want one considering everything that has happened. He prepares to not take the hit so hard to his ego; however, he can’t help but think of how crushed he would be should she refuse. Sure, he didn’t mind it, but then he would look like a complete imbecile in front of her.

So when she nodded her head and reached her arms up for him, his ego practically shot into the stratosphere. He was elated that despite everything, she was entrusting him. She was trusting him. Him! He wasn’t one that cries over things, but this brought him close to crying in relief.

He walked over and sat down to give her what he assumed would be a quick hug. Instantly, she wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck. Taken a bit aback, he takes a few seconds before gaining back enough thought process to return the gesture. He wasn’t going to let go until she did, but he certainly expected it to be quick.

And that is why, ten minutes later, Tony Stark is sitting on the cold tile floor with a woman falling out of consciousness and into her slumber. He didn’t want to move, didn’t want to ruin the moment. Nor did he want to be the cause of another horrible memory. He already feels horrible enough. Because although it certainly wasn’t his fault—how could he have known?—he still blamed himself. One thing about Tony Stark is that he often blames himself when things go wrong. After all, that was usually the case with his father. Usually when things went wrong the blame was placed on him. So, it is only natural for him to continue that into his adulthood.

“Sweetheart? Can you open your eyes for me?” Tony asks, gently brushing some of the hair out of her face. She frowns and blearily blinks up at him. “Let’s get you somewhere more comfortable, yeah?”

She nods her head and stands up. They both walk down the stairs leading to the roof access. It takes them no time to reach the elevator.

“I’m assuming you’d probably want to sleep in Natasha’s room? She said it was okay.”

She lowers her gaze to the ground, worrying her lip in between her teeth. Being alone doesn’t sound like a good idea right now. She wants to be curled up in his arms so he can protect her. The shadows at night wouldn’t dare reach her if she had his strong body wrapped around her.

No. That's inappropriate. He’s her boss, and he would never want to do something like that. The only women he has in his bed with him are the women he has one-night stands with. And that isn’t something she wants.

“Is Natasha here?”

“No, she’s on a mission, so you’ll have the place all to yourself.” He says it like it’s a good thing. Frowning, she scuffs her foot on the ground. Tony practically melts when her pleading eyes look up at him.

“What if I don’t want to be alone?” She mutters, too embarrassed to say it any louder.

Tony’s heart skips a beat. He keeps his face neutral as he says, “well if you want you can sleep in my room. I’ve been told I’m great at cuddling.”

She giggles a little. What he’d give to hear that out of her more. “By who?”

He raises a brow, “why, jealous?”

She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms, “you wish.”

He smiles back at her. “I was just kidding anyways.”

“Sure,” she jests, not believing him. The elevator opens on his floor and they both walk out.

“No, I’m serious,” he pouts. “I’ve… I’ve never really had anyone to cuddle with.”

Her brows furrow. She finds that hard to believe. What with the amount of girls he’s had in his bed, there’s no way he hasn’t gotten loads of cuddles.

Now that she thinks about it, however, she hasn’t seen anything on the news about his newest scandal or girl toy. In fact, she hasn’t seen so much as one girl getting him to leave early to hook up—not that it’s any of her business. It just makes it easier for her to keep up his reputation.

They arrive at his bed where he had laid her down earlier. Tony tried to burn away the memory of her terrified eyes and petrified body on it.

They both snuggle into bed, making sure not to cross the invisible line they both drew to keep themselves separate.

That doesn’t stop them, however, from tearing down that barrier during their sleep, seeking each other's warmth and comfort.

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thatgenderfluidmonstrosity · 11 months

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“I lost no one! No one! I- I survived, my friends survived! I mean- Whumper is dead! I have lost nothing!” Whumpee sobbed.

“But whumpee, you are clearly showing common signs of grief. Are your sure it’s not maybe someone from the past-“ Their therapist (caretaker) suggested.

“Yes! I had a good life *before* Whumper. I was happy and I had friends so I don’t know why I feel this way!” They were frustrated, starting to get more angry than sad.

“Whumpee…maybe…I don’t know…um… have you ever thought that maybe…you’re grieving yourself? Or…who you used to be?” Caretaker said, making whumpee freeze.

#whump #whumpee #whump stuff #whump things #whump prompt #whumpblr #whumblr #whump scene #caretaker #past whump #therapy for whumpee

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andithewhumper · 8 months

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New Home

First installment of what I hope is a long series, but who knows. These are characters I have been messing around with for a while so it's nice to finally get something concrete down. This series is partially inspired by @whumpsday 's Kane and Jim series. It is amazing, go read it. My vampire lore is different, I'll eventually post it, but for now have fun with this.

Masterpost

Content: Vampire thralls, kneeling, past referenced abuse, human trafficking, vampire whumper, vampire carewhumper, human whumpee, nonbinary whumpee

Humans were the least of Kairos’ worries. They were there and that was that. It wasn’t that she didn’t like them, they just existed opposite to her. A dolphin isn’t overly concerned with the life of a shark. So when her father called her into his office for an unstated reason she did not expect this.

There was a rather deplorable looking human trembling on the floor in front of Duke Eldon Orfeo. He stood in front of his desk giving the human not even a glance as he waited for his daughter. Kairos gave her father a weird look as she stepped into the room. It was unlike him to engage with even the humans in his own household except for swiftly disciplining them and sending them on their way. Yet this human, Kairos didn’t recognize, confusing her even more.

“Father? You called for me?” The Duke nodded at his daughter and then glanced down at the trembling figure on the floor.

“Yes, I need you to deal with this.” His voice was cold and smooth, commanding ultimate authority. Kairos looked down at the shaking form. She could hear small whimpers coming from the human as they wrapped their arms around themself.

“And this would be-?”

“The human was a thrall of one of Edward’s intolerable friends who has recently been sentenced by the Council of Lords. It was gifted to Edward, but I see no reason to reward him for associating with such people and so I am giving the human to you.”

Kairos had to admit she was stunned. She very rarely had personal thralls, they were more of a hassle than they were worth. The last time she could recall taking one was when she first moved to France and refused to spend another several decades alone with no one who would speak to her.

“I appreciate the offer, Father, but wouldn’t Michél appreciate the gift more? He is far more inclined towards personal thralls.”

“Michél agrees that you should be the one who gets the human. He has several already. Besides, this one fits your preferences, does it not?” Kairos looked down at the thrall, who seemed increasingly distressed by the path of the conversation. They were indeed the kind of human she would normally go for, frail and feminine. Their hair fell just below their chin in a mess of brown curls not unlike her youngest brother James. Yet, she was inclined towards women in bars who would readily come home with her under the promise of wine and good company. Few complained that her good company came with the price of their blood. They left with more pleasure than any man could give them and a wound that would heal in a week. She had no need to ever see them again.

“My preference is normally for less permanent meals, Father. Not for second hand ‘gifts’. Besides, there are plenty of thralls in your household that I drink from. I have no need for another meal.”

“Then use the human as a test subject for your experiments. Do whatever you please with it, but I am assigning it to you.” Her father’s tone was becoming terse and she knew that if she pushed him any longer this would become a significantly more painful exchange for her. She would have to figure out what to do with the human later. For now, she figured it would be wise to get out of her father’s sight.

“Yes, Father. I’m sure I can find some use for the human. Thank you for deeming me worthy for this gift. I doubt Edward would be mature about this anyway.”

Her father nodded and she felt a small amount of relief that she defused the situation before it became too extreme. She looked down at the human who glanced up at her only to quickly shoot their eyes back to the ground.

“Come,” she ordered the human, “I have work to do.

---

Quinn tried to still their shaking. They didn’t understand what was wrong with them. They knew how to behave in the presence of vampires and yet everything their Master taught them escaped from their mind. They had been brought to this house with the expectation of being immediately handed to the vampire their Master had gifted them to and yet they still hadn’t seen him yet. The vampire they knelt in front of was no less terrifying than Master’s friend. They had met Master’s friend before. He was cruel, even crueler than Master was.

This vampire was tall with dark hair that was short and neat. From the few words they heard him say, they could tell he had a French accent. They wondered if he was going to be their new Master instead of Master’s friend. They knew it was forbidden to want anything, but they hoped he was.

When the woman walked in Quinn couldn’t hold back their confusion. They risked a glance up at the vampire. She looked dangerous, with long red hair and intense eyes. Quinn wondered who she was. They had seen more vampires in this night alone than in the rest of their life. With every one Quinn could feel their dread getting deeper and deeper into them.

There was a time, when Master first took them, that Quinn thought about running away. Those forbidden thoughts had been gone from their mind soon after, but they came back with a terrifying realization. They were going to be given to a vampire in a house surrounded by other vampires. Even if they got away from whoever was meant to be their new Master, they would still have to get past all the other vampires in the house. Quinn blinked hard as they realized what they had been thinking about. How dare they think those thoughts, here of all places. This was supposed to be a new start, and yet they were already messing it up by misbehaving.

When Quinn heard the French vampire say that they would be given to the woman they thought they misheard at first. Did this mean they wouldn’t be going to Master’s friend? Quinn felt a rush of relief run through them. Quinn was ecstatic, anything was better than belonging to Master’s friend, as disobedient as they were for thinking about it. He was horrible, even when Master told him to go easy on Quinn. They started to calm their breathing right up to the point when the woman spoke.

“I have no need for another meal.”

Quinn was crushed. The two vampires above them were debating their fate as if it was nothing. The small part of Quinn that was angry about that was squashed down by the part of them that knew this was their purpose. Master had taught them that they existed in this world purely to serve vampires. They knew better than to doubt that, but what these two were doing now was cruel; dangling a better option in front of Quinn like a worm on a hook.

“Use the human as a test subject for your experiments.” Quinn whimpered at the words and then bit their lip to silence themself. The vampires did not want to hear their pain. They were supposed to take this torment silently so as to not inconvenience their Master. Quinn cursed themself. Of course the woman didn’t want them as her thrall, they couldn’t even stay quiet when they weren’t in pain. How could she expect them to stay quiet when they were being disciplined or even when she wanted to feed? Quinn trembled at the thought of making any noise when their new Master fed. They would certainly be punished severely if that ever happened.

They heard the woman agree to taking them and Quinn wondered if they should feel relieved. Of course they didn’t want to belong to Master’s friend, but this woman did not want them. What if they gave them to him when they got bored or irritated with Quinn’s bad behavior. They tried so hard, but Quinn always misbehaved. Master told them all the time that if they ever wanted to be free of punishment they had to be more obedient, but Quinn was dumb and they messed up all the time.

They tried another glance up at the vampire, but this time they were caught. Quinn quickly looked back down at the ground. They held back a whimper. Their new Master would surely punish them for this disrespect. Master-no their old Master now-would have slapped Quinn across the face if they ever dared to look at him without being told. But their new Master ignored the disrespect and simply gave them the order to follow. Quinn, confused but not willing to mess up twice in a row by ignoring the vampire’s commands, stood and quickly followed after their new Master.

---

Kairos led the shaking human to her room. She needed to get some work done before she could even speak to the thrall and despite their trembling they seemed well-behaved enough to sit quietly while she worked. She walked through the hallways and noticed the human glancing around at the artwork. She was glad the human was not totally petrified that they had lost all ability to think. That would be irritating for her to deal with. She opened the door to her room and gestured for the thrall to go in. The human walked past her slowly, obviously still quite nervous. Kairos shut the door and caught a glimpse of the human finching at the sound of the lock.

“Sit and be quiet,” she said gesturing to a chaise next to the bed, “I have work I need to get done before I discuss some things with you.”

The human nodded quickly, but didn’t say anything. Kairos, usually unbothered by thralls giving her no response-it was typical of any of her father’s thralls to ignore her completely-felt the need to correct this.

“When I give you an order I expect a response, understand?”

The thrall shook where they stood and Kairos noticed the human looked about ready to fall over, but they forced the words out of their mouth.

“Y-yes, Master. I’m sorry, Master.”

Kairos gave them an affirmative nod and turned to her desk in order to continue her work.

After about an hour of writing she turned around to see the thrall, staring at the floor in front of them. They sat with perfect posture on the chaise, with their back straight and their hands in their lap. So the thrall at least knew how to follow a simple order. That was good to know. Kairos had interacted with many thralls that seemed to think they could ignore or disregard her orders simply because they answered to her father first. She had almost forgotten what it was like to actually be obeyed without question. She had to admit, it felt nice.

---

If you wanna be on the tag list just lmk :)

#whump #whumpee #whumper #vampires #vampire whumper #carewhumper #past whump #kairos #quinn #nonbinary whumpee #Kairos MacCaélan

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avvail · 2 years

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Villain and Flirtatious Hero in battle, Villain formly abused by a very creepy intimate whumper, Hero is unaware of this. Bonus points for Hero flirtatiously pinning Villain and misunderstanding their terror

tw: implied past abuse

There were mess of limbs as they rolled across the floor, the momentum making them spiral. Hero managed to get their bearings and gripped the villain’s shoulders firmly, shoving them down onto their back. They came to an abrupt stop and Villain gasped in surprise, their eyes fluttering closed.

Hero drew in a sharp breath, before their lips pulled into a smug smirk. “We’ve got to stop ending up like this.”

Hero settled their weight on the villain’s hips, keeping them hopelessly pinned down. They seized their wrists and slid their arms above their head, leaning closer to their face. The villain had only just opened their eyes and were staring at them, expression shocked.

Hero found them too adorable. Too easy to tease and watch a cute little flush rise on their cheeks. Red looked good on them and Hero wanted to see it more often.

“This is my favourite position of yours,” they purred, tightening their grip on their wrists when Villain tried to twist away. “Although, there are a few more I’d like to introduce you to. I bet you’d look very pretty.”

Villain’s eyes widened and the hero’s grin broadened. They could feel their hands fidgeting and their body almost twitching under them, and it was only enlightening their own desire to see the villain a blushing mess. They gripped their wrists in one hand and let the other trail down their cheek, relishing in the way they winced.

“What do you say? Want to take this elsewhere?”

Hero was expecting and incoherent mess of a response, or that cute thing they did when they were at a loss of words. They weren’t expecting tears to start sliding down their cheeks.

Hero froze in shock. The villain seemed to disintegrate into a series of violent sobs, squirming in panic and trying to yank out of their grasp. “No!”

The hero released a humourless chuckle. “Hey, Villain, I wasn’t being...serious. There’s no need to cry, I’m really not that bad, am I?”

It was like the villain was scorched under their touch, pinching their eyes shut. “No, no, please. Please stop it–”

Hero knew something was very wrong, and they quickly released them, watching as the villain desperately clawed their way out from underneath them.

“Villain, what...what’s the matter?” They breathed, going to rest a hand on their shoulder, but decided otherwise. “Look, I’m sorry. If I’d known you didn’t like it...”

They felt an ounce of guilt strike their heart. Villain scrubbed their face and curled their arms around themselves, sending them a weak glare.

“Do I look like I like it?” They cried shakily. “Do...I ever look like I like it?”

Hero watched them struggle to drag themselves onto their feet. They wanted to help, but they suddenly didn’t feel very welcome to.

“I just...” They bit their lip. “...misunderstood.”

Villain exhaled slowly and rubbed the tears from their face. The hero lifted themselves up and stared at them, shocked by their reaction. Villain often reacted well to their flirting, but this? This had never happened before. Had they pushed too much?

Villain swallowed and reached into their jacket.

“I’m done. Take it,” they whispered, tossing the reason they’d been fighting in the first place. It clattered to the ground. “I don’t even want it anymore.”

Hero clenched their fists and glanced up at them. “Villain, I’m sorry. Tell me what’s wrong, are...are you okay?”

They waved a hand, turning away. “Fine. Just leave me alone.”

Hero felt like they could do nothing as they watched them disappear into the night.

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limeskye · 2 months

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#wheel of time #season 2 #2x01 #Lan Mandragoran #Daniel Henney #back scars #scars #mine #my gifs #wot edit #wotedits #prev whump #whump #past whump #sword forms #wot #wot on prime

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the-three-whumpeteers · 23 days

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The whumpee may had been rescued, but they had scars that would never fade. The marks from shackles that were far too tight were still on their wrists, and whip marks covered their back with little mercy- the whumper had made sure the whumpee never truly forgot them.

#whump #whump prompt #whump scenario #whumpee #aramis stabs someone #whump prompts #whumper #past whump #scars

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whumpndump · 2 years

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Whumpee, who has been rescued for several months now, brings caretaker breakfast in bed one morning. Caretaker begins to panic, worrying that whumpee was somehow reverting to their old subservient self, that all their hard work towards helping them heal just wasn't good enough. They want to cry. Before they can spiral too far though, whumpee speaks up.

"Um... sorry if I remembered wrong...but... today's your birthday, right? Happy birthday!"

Whumpee places the breakfast tray on caretaker's lap with a small smile, and suddenly caretaker wants to cry for much more pleasant reasons.

#whump #whumpblr #whump prompt #whump scenario #past whump #whump recovery #caretaker whump #whumpee #whumpdumps

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tildeathiwillwrite · 23 days

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Changing of the Guard

WoW Birthday Whump Event Day 6: Nonhuman whumpee / Reluctant Whumper / "Run!"

WoW Birthday Whump Prompts List

TW: chains, references to past abuse (magic whump), captive

-----

The cavern was dark, cold, and wet.

This was nothing new, of course, but Arcturus had found that describing every little detail of his prison was better than wallowing in self-pity, as he had for the first few decades of his imprisonment. He had figured out the composition of almost every rock in the cavern wall, tracked the formation of a stalactite, and tested the mineral content of his chains many times over.

Arcturus also knew his captor quite well. When you spend years around the same person, even if you only see them for a few minutes, you pick up things about them.

So when the footsteps echoing from the cave mouth reached his ears, Arcturus knew that a changing of the guard had taken place.

Curiosity piqued, he rose from where he had been examining the most recent patch of wall and crossed the cavern in two bounds, pausing only a couple centimeters from where the mithril chains binding him would pull taut. He could only make out one pair of footsteps. If there was more than one, they would have to be moving in exact unison to trick his senses, a difficult feat for humans to accomplish.

As the footsteps drew closer, the faintest glimmer of light began to reflect off the tiny mineral deposits in the cavern wall. A soft yellow light, nothing like the harsh green of Arcturus’ previous Keeper, a brutal man by the name of Lars. Lars was quick with his spells and would retaliate at the slightest hint of provocation.

Arcturus’ new Keeper was close. He instinctively seated himself on the cold, stone cavern floor. It was a habit forced upon him early in captivity and strictly enforced in the following decades. No doubt the new Keeper had been already trained in the proper protocols in the weeks and months leading up to when he finally took over the position.

Finally, the new Keeper came into view. By the glow of the yellow light hovering above his hand, Arcturus could see he was young for a human. Clean-shaven, or too young to grow a proper beard? Arcturus always had difficulty guessing human ages, but this was unusual. He was much younger than any of his previous Keepers.

The boy wore the same white wizard robes, but his belt was blue instead of the usual black. Or perhaps it was from the color of the light? The same worn leather shoes covered his feet, and his light-colored hair was cut short, close to the scalp. It was a striking difference from his dark brown skin, even with the colored light distorting the colors.

Behind the boy floated the usual meager collection of items for Arcturus’ meals: a tub of water, a small assortment of fruits, and the corpse of a deer. Barely enough to feed a full-grown dragon for a day. But he was used to it.

It was clear the boy was not. At the sight of Arcturus, the blood drained from his face. The food, floating by the force of his magic, wobbled.

Arcturus sighed and muttered the words to a spell he had learned as a hatchling, catching each item before it fell to the floor. Concentrating, he directed everything around the boy, who stood frozen at the mouth of the tunnel, and set it all down within easy reach.

“Do you speak, child?” Arcturus said softly, delicately grasping a melon.

The boy blinked, and the ball of light flickered before brightening. “I… um… I’ve never seen an actual dragon before.”

The melon was a bit overripe, but it was still sweet. Arcturus licked the juice from his claws before responding. “Not many people have. Do you have a name?”

“I… uh… yeah… it’s Henry.”

Arcturus looked the boy up and down a second time. “Lars didn’t train you very much for this role, did he?”

Henry swallowed nervously before shaking his head. “The Dragon Keeper is… um… he’s very sick. Nobody knows why. I don’t know why I was picked to be his replacement—!” He cut himself off and backed up a step. “I-I-I I’m not supposed to be talking to you.”

“Don’t be silly, child,” Arcturus scoffed, “all of the Keepers talked to me. They spoke with cruelty, yes, but rare was the day I was fed in silence.”

“Oh…” Henry fiddled with the long sleeves of his robes. He might have only received them that day when the ‘honor’ of being a Dragon Keeper was officially bestowed upon him. “What’s your name?”

“Arcturus.”

“How… how long have you been here?”

Arcturus cocked his head, thinking as he dragged the deer corpse closer. No mark was on its body, for it had been killed with magic. “Four human lifetimes,” he finally said before tearing into the deer.

It probably would’ve tasted better cooked. Or different. Arcturus had learned the hard way not to use his fire around the Keepers. Unfortunately, the Keepers did not leave until Arcturus had finished his meal, so no attempts at cooking were allowed. But food was food, and the deer was quickly nothing more than bones.

When he finally looked back at Henry, the young wizard had turned even paler, if that was possible for a human. A trace of changeling blood, perhaps? It would explain the hair. “What exactly have you been told that the Keepers do?”

Henry flinched, and the ball of light went out completely. Cursing, he quickly reignited it. “They… uh… they feed the dragon… and they punish it for disobeying. But you haven’t done anything.”

“Lars would’ve considered the floating spell I deployed a few minutes ago reason enough for punishment. Vera, his predecessor, would heat my chains if she thought I breathed rebelliously.”

Henry gaped at his words. “Wha…what? I’m… supposed to do that?”

Arcturus eyed the boy. How did this child, who couldn’t even fathom the punishment exacted by his predecessors, manage to get into this position? Perhaps the Order was becoming lax in its judgment. The conclusion was logical. He’d been their slave for longer than any of the current members have been alive. The most senior of them might barely remember when the valley shook from the force of the second Dragon Keeper’s preferred method of torment.

The boy’s question was met with silence as Arcturus finished his meal. It was all the answer he would need.

When Henry left, the iron tub and the bones of the deer shakily floating after him, Arcturus remained, unmoving, on the stone floor. It wasn’t the training that kept him there but rather the sense that the conversation was far from complete. Henry would be back, likely with more questions.

Arcturus would have little choice but to answer him. He had nothing better to do.

@fourwingedsnake @whumperofworlds

#wow birthday whump #wow birthday whump day 6 #wow birthday whump [day 6]#nonhuman whumpee #reluctant whumper #arcturus #oc whump #henry #my writing #whump #whump writing #dragon #chains #magic whump #past whump

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chaotic-orphan · 10 months

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June of Doom, Day Twenty-One:

On three : dehydration // memory loss // choke

CW: torture (explicit), drowning (explicit), choking on water (explicit), memory loss, panic attack (explicit), dehydration (described), PTSD, lab Whump (implied), kind of dissociative episode/ derealisation of Whumpee, blood (mentioned), general violence, cruel Whumper, emotional whump,

*~*~*~*~*

“I don’t want to do it,” said Hero, “I just had a shower.”

“Well I don’t want to do it,” Other Hero hissed. “I did it last time.”

“Yeah but last time was different,” said Hero, matter-of-factly. “You got there first.”

“Because you were dragging your feet!”

“You didn’t tell me we were gonna be running on sand! Not all of us are athletic!”

“You look fairly athletic to me,” said Villain who currently tied to the chair. Hero turned to them, eyes wide and smiling with the compliment.

“You really think so?”

“Yeah,” said Villain honestly.

Hero blushed then batted their hand through the air, “I’m sure you say that to all your kidnappers.”

Villain leaned back in their chair, exposing their chest and grinned a wolffish grin. “Don’t get kidnapped a lot, not gonna lie. Most people don’t catch me off guard.”

“Well I’m not most people,” said Hero and Villain let out a breathy chuckle.

“You most certainly are not.”

“Well you’re not too bad yourself,” Hero purred. “You work out?”

Villain’s grin got wider, extending to his eyes, “when I’m not trying to do crime I do what I can.”

“No you can tell,” said Hero, with a sultry smile of their own.

Other Hero watched the exchange with their mouth wide open. “You can’t just flirt with the Villain!”

Hero looked back at Other Hero, shooting a glare at their interruption. “We’re trying to have a conversation here.”

“No,” said Other Hero grabbing Hero by the elbow and turning them to face Other Hero again. “We’re trying to have an interrogation here.”

“Exactly,” said Hero, looking over their shoulder and winking at Villain. “I’m trying find out when he’s free for drinks.”

“I’m a little tied up right now,” Villain said and Other Hero made a gagging sound. “But after my day is clear.”

“It’s a date,” Hero said with a wink and turned back to Other Hero. Other Hero rolled their eyes, tutting out loud and walked closer to Villain. Villain’s demeanour changed immediately. Both Heroes noticed.

“Oh, I know you,” said Villain to Other Hero, and Hero glanced at them. “Do you remember your days in Mecha?”

Other Hero froze at the mention of the name and Hero stepped in front of them protectively as if Villain had attacked Other Hero physically and not psychologically.

Other Hero hadn’t heard that name in years and hoped to never hear it again. The place where Other Hero’s nightmares came to life, a place where their skills couldn’t save them. Other Hero wanted to punch Villain in the face for even mentioning it, but they were frozen in place. Their legs like lead and refusing to budge.

“I imagine you don’t remember much,” said Villain, all humour drained from his voice leaving only the malice behind his words. “You probably locked it all away in a little black hole in your mind to never look at again, but I do like to think you remember me.”

Other Hero stared at Villain’s face. At their physique, trying to remember anything familiar, anything at all, but nothing was coming.

“Perhaps a little water might jog your memory,” said Villain and all the blood drained from Other Hero’s face. They remembered fractured images of dying of thirst, sure that was how they were going to leave this world. Dehydrated and alone, in the dark.

Other Hero was sprawled out on the ground when the door opened and light flooded their room. They didn’t look up. They didn’t have the energy to entertain their tormentor today.

“Oh, Other Hero,” a voice cooed. Villain’s voice. “You must be so thirsty. Don’t worry. I brought some water.”

That stirred Other Hero to move. They turned their head and saw a barrel of water and it was like God had smiled on them again. Villain came to Other Hero’s aid, helping them to their feet. Other Hero leaned gratefully against Villain, they nearly wanted to cry at seeing the water. The only thing they needed to survive a little longer. Hold out a little more.

When they got to the barrel, Other Hero leaned down and Villain stopped them with a tut. “Wait. On three, ready?”

Other Hero didn’t really see the point in waiting but they nodded anyway, staring into the beautiful water below them.

“Good,” said Villain, standing a little behind Other Hero so they couldn’t see the smirk on their lips. “One,” said Villain, removing their steadying hand from Other Hero’s waist up their back and settling on the nape of their neck, rubbing soothing circles on the skin.

“Two,” and Other Hero leaned down closer to the water, their fingers dancing with eagerness on the rim of the barrel. “Three.”

Before Other Hero could do anything, Villain’s hand was on their neck shoving them headfirst into the barrel deep and not letting them up. Other Hero screamed into the water, struggling against everything to try and resurface but Villain wouldn’t let them up. They kept them locked there, thrashing, screaming, gasping for air that they were denied. They kicked and flailed but Villain didn’t relent and soon, Other Hero’s struggles became less and they felt their waning strength leave them.

They were going to drown.

A hand in their hair and Other Hero was yanked up, gasping in a big breath and coughing out lungfuls of water.

Villain turned Other Hero to face them, eyes searching their face as they tutted and said: “no. You need more. Your skin’s a little dry looking.”

And they submerged again, trying to hold their breath and pushing back against Villain. They kicked their legs out, hitting Villain but Villain didn’t budge. Their grip was like iron on Other Hero’s neck, Villain’s other hand grabbed the back of their elbow locking them in place.

Other Hero heaved, gasped, choked on the lack of air and dragged water into their lungs in a panic, coughing into the water but still Villain wouldn’t let them up.

Other Hero was breathing heavy, their chest rising and falling too fast, taking in stuttered breaths of barely any air and loosing them too quick to breathe. Oh god, they realised, clutching their chest and turning away from Villain, I’m having a panic attack.

“Looks like you do remember me,” said Villain with a smirk and Hero stepped forward, sending a right hook to Villain’s cheek.

“Shut up,” Hero hissed venomously. Villain straightened again with that same smirk, eyes dancing with delight. Hero turned to Other Hero and grabbed them by the shoulders, ducking under them to get Other Hero to look at them.

“Hey. It’s okay. He can’t hurt you. He’s tied up, Other Hero. You’re not there anymore. He can’t—“

“Oh he can,” Villain sing-songed, and Other Hero blinked wildly, wide eyes trying to focus on Hero but their vision was blurring and they were distantly aware that they were crying but it didn’t matter because they couldn’t breathe. “Funny how memories can still affect us so much, isn’t it Other Hero? I bet you thought you were cured. That you’d left that part of your life behind, but here I am, and here you are. What is that? Fate?”

Hero snarled and let go of Other Hero, punching them again and again and again. “Just shut up!”

Villain’s smile was reduced a smidge but that was enough and when turned back to Other Hero they were leaning against the wall, glaring eyes locked on Villain. “Are—“

“Yeah,” said Other Hero. “I’m fine. Let’s just get what we need and go.”

Hero nodded, coming to stand beside Other Hero. Other Hero smiled sadly at Hero and said: “since you’ve already worked up a sweat…”

“Oh it’ll be my pleasure,” Hero said, cracking their knuckles for effect, eyes on Villain, who still smiled from the chair they were tied to.

“It’s okay,” said Villain. “I yield. You want to know why there’s been an increase in crime in the docks? Shipments in and out, old ladies getting their purses snagged, blah blah blah, right?”

The heroes said nothing, just glared and Villain’s cruel smirk returned to their lips as they leaned forward, blood coating their teeth as they spoke.

“I’ll tell you cause we go way back, Other Hero. You remember Supervillain, right? Genius doctor, ahead of his time. Made us both what we are today, well he’s finally coming home and he’s got a lot of friends coming with him.”

“How many?” Other Hero demanded.

“Every. Last. One of us,” Villain said, their tone taking on one of reverence. “He’s gonna be so happy to see you. See what you’ve become, take you home.”

Hero rolled their eyes, grabbing Other Hero’s arm and pushing them towards the door. “Thanks for the heads up,” said Hero, lifting their hand to wave at the camera then sticking their middle finger up at Villain.

“We still on for drinks later?”

Hero snorted. “In your dreams.”

“Pity,” said Villain. They waited in awkward silence for a beat too long, then Villain spoke again. “Oh? They not letting you out? Maybe because they know how dangerous you are, Other Hero.”

“How many times do I have to tell you to shut up?” Hero hissed, turning to face Villain who was standing beside the chair they were just tied to.

Villain shrugged at Hero’s shock, dropping the rope and flashed that bloody grin: “should’ve gagged me, Hero. Don’t worry, I won’t make the same mistake with you.”

Then the sirens went off.

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