#what do you want from me the whump enjoyer. huh. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whump-a-la-mode · 3 years

Note

this is such a general thing but defiant villain whumpee slowly breaking pls :)

Thank you so much for the ask!! I hope this is slow enough. It's not exactly the traditional whumpee breaking, but I hope it's interesting nonetheless! Feel free to send in another ask if you want something different ^^

CW//Talk of mass destruction, sleep deprivation torture, brief pet whump mention, forced to eat gross food

"It's over."

There was a weariness to the newscaster's voice-- the kind that those in the profession were never meant to display. The sheer essence of bone-deep exhaustion. A body squeezed dry of adrenaline, until fight or flight turned to fatigue.

But, the fight was won.

"For the last three days, we have been running twenty four hour coverage of the battle occurring downtown. The battle began when Villain's forces attempted to overrun an R&D lab, following the occupation of their original headquarters by our city's heroes.

The destruction has been uncountable. But, it's over.

After a final assault at three in the morning, today, the last of Villain's personal guard fled the stronghold, and were taken into captivity. An hour later, the menace themself was captured.

It's over.

What exactly will be done with Villain is unclear, but Leader has assured us that appropriate measures have been prepared for their secure containment.

As for us? At long last, goodnight Metropolis."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"And good morning, sleepyhead."

Villain could not help but wince as light washed over them in a boiling wave-- the warmth of darkness torn away from them-- as the back doors of the truck were swung open.

"You're making the biggest mistake of your life." They snapped back, hoping the venom in their voice reached its recipient, standing at the truck's mouth.

Hero.

Of course, of all people, their welcoming committee had to be fucking Hero. The biggest asshat Metropolis had to offer. The worst, most stupidly noble, stupidly loyal, stupidly-

Their fury reached a boiling point to which enraged thoughts turned incoherent. It did not matter why they hated the idiot standing before them. It mattered only that anger alone made their veins feel as though they were overflowing with magma.

"Am I?" The noble fool cocked their head to the side, mocking and arrogant. "Or are you just upset that you've lost?"

"You think I've lost?" Villain let out a hearty chuckle. "All this effort, and you've caused me a minor setback, at most."

"Well, which one of us in the cage?"

They narrowed their eyes to slits. Hero was right. They were both staring through the bars of a cage, but Villain was very much the one contained. It was a tiny, steel construction. Large enough to stand up in, and take one step in each direction, but such was all.

Loaded into the back of a truck like some kind of zoo animal. They wanted to scream!

But, unlike the heroes, they could hold back.

"Me staying here to amuse you does not equate to defeat, Hero."

"Is that all you're doing? Humoring me?"

"Do you have any reason to believe otherwise?"

"Plenty." They smirked. "For one, sitting in the back of a truck for fourteen hours doesn't exactly seem like something you'd do to humor me."

Fourteen hours...

"Have you considered that I'm simply playing a long game?"

"It'll be the longest game of your life, then. Don't plan on getting out of here anytime soon. Or, y'know, ever. That's kind of the whole point."

"You really think you can hold me forever?"

"Oh, I know so. If you knew what was coming for you, you wouldn't be taking this so lightly."

"Oh, I'm so scared. What are you gonna do, give me a donut and tell me to hug this whole thing out?"

Hero chuckled, at that.

"Why don't you come and see for yourself?"

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"You're sure this will work?" Leader cocked a brow, hoping that the teeth marks in their lower lip weren't visible. It was a nervous habit, chewing like that.

"Certain." Scientist had a chipper tone to them-- a student having solved a math problem. "We've been developing this method for months. Trust me, they have no chance."

"None?"

"None. Even better, this technique is more than a simple containment method. It has a progressive weakening effect. Within a few months, they'll be like putty in your hand."

"You know we're talking about Villain here, right?"

"Precisely!"

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Villain had expected high security.

Of course they had. They'd quite frankly expected something ridiculous. A cell suspended over a pit of lava. Or a shark-infested pool. Or maybe they'd simply contain them through the power of sedatives.

None of the options sounded particularly enjoyable. But, all three sounded better than the room they stood in front of at that moment.

Six guards stood around them, each heavily armed, and not afraid to display this fact. Two stood on either side of them, each holding a chain attached to one of the twin manacles that adorned both their wrists-- they'd expected handcuffs, but two shackles per wrist seemed a little excessive. The two remaining guards stood with one in front and one behind. Their chains were those connected to Villain's feet. One tug, and they'd be face-first on the tile.

The restraints didn't make them want to flee any less. Not when they saw that room. Even chained as they were, they squirmed at the very sight of what stood before them.

It was rather large, though not ostentatiously so. Though, its size was accentuated by the complete lack of furniture lining the walls.

No. There were only two things inside the chamber.

The first stood at the center. A massive, metal ring, perhaps ten feet in height and the same in width. Four cylinders of the same material extended into the circle's center, looking terribly like hungry mouths.

One for each wrist, one for each ankle.

They were going to be splayed out like a bearskin carpet. Not to mention the vulnerability... With their limbs spread in every which direction, everything would be exposed. Their stomach, their back, their head. And they would be without a hope of retaliation.

It was a terrifying thought, but the elaborate restraint was nothing compared to the other thing inside the chamber.

Light.

There must have been a thousand of them. Shimmering, dazzling lights. On the ceiling, on the walls, some even on the floor.

It had not been since Villain's childhood that light had truly affected them. The manifestation of their abilities had coincided with the appearance of their acute sensitivity to the sun. Such was to be expected' a supernatural ability to move through places dark and shadowed, to control the shroud as though it were a thing rather than an absence did not exactly leave one looking forward to the sunrise.

Yet, they were not a vampire. Through gradual acclimation, they had learned to become comfortable with normal levels of light exposure. Spending a few hours under the sun's rays was not a problem, nor was existing within an indoor space, dominated by artificial lamps and LEDs.

But that room...

Villain could not take it. In desperation, they pulled, tugging on the restraints that dangled around them like tails. But, even they were no match for six men.

And, thus, they entered.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Now, I can see you weren't lying!"

The voice startled Villain, sent a jolt through their chest, but it did nothing to raise their head or open their eyes. Not immediately. Lifting their gaze was a task accomplished with a considerable amount of effort, and unveiling their eyes from their lids made their corneas feel to have been pierced by searing blades.

They could hardly see Hero, through the blazing lights.

"You really were trying to humor me. This is hilarious!"

It was with a terribly uncomfortable feeling that they felt fury overtake their fatigue.

"It's only been six days. I can play the long game."

"Is that why you've been hanging around?"

Though they tried, in their manacles, it proved impossible to ball their fists. The metal fit too closely around their fingers, contoured to not allow the slightest shadow of movement.

"Maybe it is, Hero. Maybe it is."

"Maybe." The Hero took a step forth, then another, until they were mere inches from their captive nemesis. "They've really done something here, huh? Ya' can hardly move an inch."

"There's a difference between not being able to and not wanting to."

"Is that so?"

Hero placed a chilled hand on their nemesis' side-- just above their hip, where their range of movement was the most limited by their splayed limbs.

Villain's heart leapt as they felt a tiny spark, jolting through their chest.

Suffering a direct blow from their nemesis was a fate they had only endured a handful of times. Now, there was nothing to protect them from it. Not even the adrenaline of battle.

"They say you're gonna give up, y'know." Hero trailed their hand, up and down Villain's taut skin. "I think they're betting on it, up in HQ. It's only a matter of time. We can all see you're getting weaker. Tired. You aren't great at hiding it."

"What I'm good at is acting."

"You're saying this is all an act? So you won't mind if I do... this?"

That time, the feeling was more of a spark.

Villain's scream echoed throughout the chamber, but there was no one to hear them but the light.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Hey! Get up. Can't you hear me?"

Of course Villain could hear Hero. They'd been hearing their stupid voice every single one of these last...

How many days had it been?

They couldn't remember. Too many.

"There's a difference between hearing and listening."

"I thought this whole breaking you thing would be more fun."

"I'm sorry that I'm not entertaining you."

"Nah, I don't think seeing you strung up like this will ever get old." Like a child, Hero laughed. "Anyways, I brought you some food. It's fish!"

Villain hated fish.

But, struggling would mean opening their eyes. Looking at the light.

And, thus, they ate.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Come on."

A sharp vibration rattled through the restraint frame, and, consequently, to the cores of Villain's bones. But, they did not move.

"I know you can hear me. So get up!"

Hero kicked the frame again, but received the same reaction.

"I thought you were playing the long game. I'm looking for some payoff, here. This new Villain is boring."

Maybe.

Maybe they were boring.

But they didn't have the energy to be anything else. Not anymore.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"What did I tell you?" Scientist smirked. "Like putty in your hand!"

"I still don't understand how you did it." Leader shook their head. "The biggest threat to the city..."

"Oh, it was easy. They've got those weird dark powers, yeah? So they aren't hurt by the light. Not exactly. But, when there's lights on, they can't sleep! Not a wink. You could leave 'em outside and give 'em the keys to your own car, and they still wouldn't be able to escape."

"You really think so?"

"I know so. By the way, who won the betting pool?"

"Engineering department. They said three months, they were the closest. You're saying they haven't slept in three months?"

"Yep! There's not much left of the old Villain anymore, though. So... I mean, now, they can be whatever you want them to be. Do you have any ideas?"

"Hm..." Leader drummed their fingers against the wall. "I have always wanted a bodyguard."

"I thought you always wanted a dog."

"True, true."

"So... why not both?"

"You have a technique for that too?"

"Yep!"

#villain whumpee #pet whumpee #hero whumper #hero villain whump #whump #whumpblr

138 notes · View notes

katierosefun · 3 years

Text

well, here we are! june basically flew by and it was a little rough, but we’re back with some long recs on cool things i’ve read/listened to/watched, and i’m about to force everyone to sit down and listen to my sleepover-esque ted talk in which i give unwarranted and unasked for rec lists. so here we go!

kdrama:

while you were sleeping

okay, so i tried to watch this kdrama when it came out in like...2017, i think? but for some reason, i wasn’t able to get past the first episode. i don’t really know why? because it’s so beautifully shot, and i super love the premise, which is basically this girl and this guy are somehow able to see things that are going to happen in the future...but only in their dreams. this whole kdrama really handled the plot super well--each episode honestly felt like a movie in itself, and the filming was just stunning, and i think this has to be one of the most visual kdramas i’ve ever seen. each character is also super interesting and complex on their own, and i really loved seeing such a strong cast of characters interact with each other in this world.

i think the only slight downside of this kdrama was that i couldn’t really get invested in the romance? i’m not quite sure why--i found both lead actors’ performances wonderful, and don’t get me wrong, i did think they were cute together as the drama went on, but i still couldn’t find myself buying into the romance until maybe relatively late in the drama (like...ep 11 or so? ep 16 was honestly when i realized that awww, wait, they’re actually super cute). but then again, i feel like the writers weren’t really prioritizing the romance either--i think they really wanted us to think about the beauty of dreams and redemption and how everyone can touch another person’s life in some significant way, so i can’t really be mad about it!

but anyways, overall i really enjoyed this kdrama and watched it all a lot faster than i thought i would! SOLID music, beautiful cinematography, good acting, mostly good writing, and some really memorable characters! def. a must-watch if you love suspense, aesthetics, and some wonderful characters.

the ghost detective

i’m someone who doesn’t like horror or scary things at all, but i was so intrigued by the plot and whatever material i saw on tumblr, and...of course, choi daniel, lee joo young, lee ji ah, and park eun bin. honestly, this is just a really wonderful and really underrated cast, and they really all brought out their a-game for this 32-episode supernatural / thriller / horror drama. basically, this kdrama follows the story of a young woman who’s trying to figure out who murdered her younger sister...and of course, there’s something supernatural going on.

honestly, this kdrama was such a ride. i loved the crime-solving aspect of it, and i was really in love with the interactions between all the characters, esp. that of eun bin and daniel’s characters. (guys...they’re so ride and die for each other. there’s also so much yearning. so much yearning in this kdrama, it just about killed me--)

the villain was absolutely, appropriately, elegantly creepy, and like...scary beyond belief. basically, the villain (lee ji ah’s character) feeds her victims these harmful thoughts and ultimately get them to kill themselves. it’s sad and haunting, especially when you see that the victims tell their victims “don’t listen to the bad things. try only to listen to the good things”. and...yeah. themes of how to handle all of these bad feelings inside of you really came through in this kdrama, and there were a lot of themes of suicide and the kind of rage and sadness that comes with that. (also! if you’re a fan of lots of angsty/whumpy situations....this kdrama definitely does not hold back with all of your fave whump/angst tropes! literally! every! episode! i! had! to! lie! down! because! too! powerful!)

school 2013

(aww, look at this precious cast…as though they didn’t all make me ugly cry at least five times—)

yeah, yeah, yeah, i’ve talked about this kdrama ad nauseum, and i know i watched it last month, but as i was studying for the lsat, i really, really, really needed some comfort. most notably comfort re: studying life, academics, how difficult it is to study but also be uncertain of your dreams…and if you are certain of your dreams, how that sometimes requires studying but that just makes life all the more overwhelming…can you tell i’ve been thinking about this a lot

i’m not going to ramble more about this kdrama considering i already have done so multiple times, but i enjoyed this rewatch and honestly,,,my love for this show has just grown even more. there’s a good reason why people consider this a comfort kdrama, because. i consider myself deeply comforted. also, i’ve been listening to the ost for the whole month. it’s become a problem. but sometimes. sometimes you need to listen to songs that feel like someone’s patting you on the head and telling you don’t give up, set down your burdens, don’t think you’re alone and dream whatever you want to dream, go wherever you want to go. i’ll stop talking now, but god. when i say that i think everyone who has ever felt incredibly tired by work or school and just wished for someone to give them a big hug either then or now...god. this is just one of those kdramas that i think honestly touched so many people’s lives, and i’m very grateful for the cast and crew and writers for ever bringing this story to life. :’) (god, okay, now i’ll stop talking before i make myself cry i’m fine this is fine)

your honor

so, i watched this kdrama thinking that it would be light and funny given that yoon shi yoon is the main male lead, but boy was i wrong--don’t be fooled by these happy little faces, this kdrama is heavy. this kdrama is about a young man (with a criminal record) who winds up impersonating his twin brother, who happens to be a judge. we also have a trainee who, after seeing the legal system fail her older sister, is on the rise to dispense justice through the courts the best she can.

honestly, the first few episodes were rough, mostly because of the content. big trigger warning for rape, violence, and sexual harassment at work. this kdrama really didn’t hold back when it came to addressing how the very people who use the law can also be the very same people who manipulate and abuse it. because of that, i found this kdrama incredibly powerful. that said, it certainly had its lighthearted moments too.

overall though, i liked this kdrama. the main characters were incredibly complex and genuinely the type to make me believe that for all the injustices in the world, there are still and always will be people fighting for the right thing. as someone who wants to enter the legal field, this kdrama was just uplifting. i was so blown away by the absolute rawness of the main two leads, esp. yoon shi yoon, who i’ve only ever seen in super lighthearted kdramas. so this was a really interesting change of pace, and i genuinely enjoyed watching this!

waiting for love

so this kdrama is just two episodes, and what’s better is that it’s available on youtube! it’s about two college students--a young woman who’s been hurt by falling in love with jerks now just wants to date, not really fall in love...and a young man who’s excellent at giving dating advice except he’s afraid that he’s never going to actually fall in love, so he just dates a girl for the sake of dating.

now, i kinda thought that this show was going to be kinda lighthearted, a little shallow--but it was weirdly...comforting? idk, i found myself liking it a lot more than i thought it would be. this is far from the perfect kdrama, and i kinda wished that we got more than 2 episodes because i think some of the plot points could have been better expanded, but...there were genuinely a lot of scenes that made me think a bit more about what it actually means to be in a loving relationship--like how it’s not enough to just put on a happy smile and eat meals together, but like...you know. there has to be trust and actual liking and also, yeah, maybe a bit of frustration in order to actually know whether a relationship is real or not. and given that the characters were all discussing the pressure on getting married and romance esp. when you’re in your twenties...idk. makes you think about are you dating someone for the sake of appearances? or do you genuinely...like them?

there was also quite a few tropes that i personally adore in this kdrama, which helped balance out the stuff i found more tiring. there was a lot of the “right person, wrong time” stuff going on (you really want the two main leads to get together after a certain point, and you just keep holding your breath whenever they walk past each other and beg please please please let it be this time...), and also that good old “two strangers fall in love with each other purely over writing to each other” (god. first the half of it, then me & au, then greenhouse podcast...something about this trope huh). that said, there were def. some parts that made me “:////” because some of the characters were kind of frustrating, but i’m gonna chalk that up to good writing since i think i was mostly mad about how i knew people like some of the characters lol. overall, i think this might be at least semi-enjoyable--it’s probably not something i’ll watch again, but it def. made me mull over what it means to actually be in a loving relationship, esp. if you’re in your twenties and everyone around you seems to be in happy romantic relationships/getting engaged and whatnot.

movie:

columbus

i’m a firm believer that there are some movies that are meant to cheer you up, some movies meant to make you cry, and then there’s some movies that are just meant to...sit with you. and this movie is definitely one of them. this story follows casey, a high school graduate, and jin, the son of a famous architect. the two of them are both so incredibly exhausted with their lives (casey with her constant worry about her mother, who’s a recovering drug addict; jin with his surface-level lack of concern for his comatose father). in their small town of columbus, indiana, the two of them bond over architecture and just. being quietly there for each other.

this movie’s been compared a few times to lost in translation in the sense that there’s this not quite romance between the two leads, who have a bit of an age gap (john cho and haley lu richardson have about 20 between them!). to be honest, i didn’t really get the sense that there was supposed to be a romance. if anything, it just felt like...two really lonely people finding each other. definitely not a simple friendship--definitely not a familial kind of relationship, definitely intimate.

idk. i think this movie might not be for everyone--i definitely agree with a lot of past reviewers that this movie is on the slower side. there’s some stuff here about complicated relationships with parents, a lot of cool architecture, really beautiful shots...and overall, it’s just...quiet. it’s lovely, and i can’t really stop thinking about it. it’s subtle, bittersweet, and oddly compelling. might not be the kind of thing you’d want to watch in the middle of the day, but if you’re a little sad and in the mood for something not to necessarily lift your spirits but...at least acknowledge them and sit with you, then...this is the movie to watch. idk. i felt kind of crummy the day i watched this movie, and i felt as though someone just sat next to me on a park bench until the sun went down. (mayhaps specific but hush, i’m writing this right after finishing this movie, so i’m...feeling a certain way.)

wish dragon

i watched this movie right after watching columbus because a) decided i was in the mood for something lighter, and b) i learned that john cho?? voiced?? the dragon?? (caroline your crush on john cho’s jumping out this month...)

but anyways! i loved this movie a lot. it was so satisfying? like, just narratively speaking? and the animation was wonderful and also weirdly smooth and satisfying, and there were a lot of funny and touching moments. this movie’s about this young man named din who stumbles upon a magical teapot that holds the wish dragon long--long has to grant din three wishes, and yes, i know, very aladdin, but that said, this movie has so many original twists that it feels weird to call it an aladdin retelling. it really did feel like a movie completely on its own, which i applaud the writer and director for!

i don’t want to spoil too much of this movie, but something i really enjoyed was that din’s main wish is just to see his old childhood friend again. idk, i think we all have that one friend from when we were really little that we miss--and this movie really dug into that, as well as themes about parents wanting to do the best they can to provide for their kids, and!!! and long the dragon gets his own storyline and amazing character development too!!! i was honestly just amazed at how this movie fleshed out the characters so well and had so many wonderful themes that just made me tear up. guys. this movie’s great. highly recommend for its wonderful characters and the power of friendship. just a grand old time in general. :’))

searching

yeah...yeah, i wasn’t kidding about my crush on john cho this month. yes, i watched three of his movies within 24 hours. this movie is about david kim who’s looking for his missing 16 year old daughter, margot. this film is honestly noteworthy for many reasons, one of them being that the entire movie is told through like...a laptop screen, as in we kind of follow david’s frantic search through facetime, facebook, tumblr...which i honestly didn’t think i’d be into, but whoo boy, i was wrong. it just added to the whole addictive quality of this movie, as it usually does when it comes to anything from the thriller genre.

but besides this just being a straight up addictive thriller with absolutely mouth-dropping twists (but like...good twists, and smart twists, good god--), this movie was just...touching? there’s so many themes related to what grief does to a family (because we learn within the first 10 minutes that the mom died due to cancer), and there’s just...something really fragile about relationships between surviving family members. i was absolutely blown away by john cho’s performance as a tentative and grieving widower whose world just absolutely falls apart in his search for his daughter. this movie was just so...real because of that. like, yes, this movie has all of the suspense that you would expect this kind of movie to have, but there was also just...so many beautiful themes about grief and how far parents would go for their kids and godddd yeah no i started sobbing when the movie ended. god.

also, my bias towards john cho aside, i...really loved his character. david kim is absolutely believable, and like? he’s not just the guy putting the pieces together--he’s also the guy who misses his wife and also the guy who wishes that he was there for his daughter. he’s also the guy who pauses and re-writes all his text messages because he’s trying to be a good dad. i feel like with a lot of these suspense / missing person movies, it’s really easy to have characters who are just the stoic alpha male types--and david kim definitely had his badass moments in this movie, but like...something i just loved was seeing the vulnerability that comes with...having a missing child. being a parent. god. this movie messed me up but in a good way. i can honestly say that this movie is now probably going to be one of my fave movies of all time. highly recommend, am literally obsessed with it.

book:

the seven husbands of evelyn hugo by taylor jenkins reid

ohohoho………where to begin with this book. this was one of those books where i was like “huh i kinda don’t understand why people are so obsessed with this book”, but then i hit like...page 20 or 30 and was like “oh god i Literally Cannot Put This Book Down Oh No” and wound up finishing it in like three days (mind you, i only read at like...midnight these days. i don’t understand why either).

i finished this book at like 2 am and promptly burst into tears because this was just one of those books. it follows the story of evelyn hugo, a famous hollywood actress from the 60s or so and onwards. known for her intense beauty and her seven husbands, she’s now giving an exclusive interview to the young reporter monique grant, where she’s about to tell all about her life. this book had me dropping my mouth multiple times, and i think tjr can spin one hell of a story, with so many good twists and turns and intensely memorable characters. by the end of the book, i was actually mad that evelyn hugo wasn’t a real person, because i, too, fell a little in love with her and thought, i want to actually watch her movies. i want to learn even more about this remarkable woman.

but alas! she’s not real, so i don’t get to see her accept an oscar or look up all the tabloids about her and her seven husbands or her speculated (and very, very, very real) relationship with celia st. john. basically...i just loved this book. the last line made me smile and laugh and cry a little bit (actually...cry a lot), and y’know...i’ll admit it’s not totally perfect, but i’m glad this book exists, and i’m glad that even though tjr isn’t bi herself, was very adamant in this book about bisexuality being real. just. like. god. once again. mad that evelyn hugo isn’t real. it’s fine, she’s real in my heart.

#caroline talks #caroline recs

14 notes · View notes

legendarywhump · 3 years

Text

Heartless

Fandom: Sanctuary

Pairing: Abby/Tesla

Summary: Post Vigilante, an injured Abby Corrigan shows up on the Sanctuary doorsteps.

Whump: Attacked by an animal, poison

She’s nearly unconscious when she shows up at their door, deep scratches shredding her left sleeve and apparently her arm as well. It’s Tesla who answers, grumbling about not being anyone’s doorman, but his complaints quickly give way to…. Something.

It’s not concern, of course. He hardly knows the woman, and anyway, caring isn’t his vice of choice. He has many, certainly, but unlike Helen, he’s never been a fan of torturing himself by caring for mortals. Too messy, certainly doomed, and all in all, exhausting.

So he isn’t concerned, isn’t the least bit worried. If his voice comes just a bit louder than it should when he tells Henry to get Helen, it’s only because he doesn’t care to repeat himself.

That’s it.

He scoops her up-no one else is nearby, and she certainly isn’t walking anywhere in her condition-and she blinks up at him, brows furrowing.

“Tesla, right?” She asks, and her words are concerningly slow. Slurred. (Someone else, at least, might be concerned for her. He isn’t.) “Like the… Scientist.”

“Remarkably,” he says, voice low, starting toward Helen’s lab. “And you’re… Amber? Amy? Allie?”

He remembers her name, of course; he forgets little, once it’s been committed to memory, and judging by the way this girl and the protege looked at each other, he suspected from the first meeting that he’d be seeing her again. But if he can keep her annoyed, maybe he can keep her awake.

She sighs, not irritated but accepting, resigned. “You don’t…. Remember me… Either.”

He’s long thought Will an idiot (if one he’s come to develop a grudging respect for over his actions since Helen’s grown ill), but the fact that he could forget this woman when she was obviously interested in him was a new level of this. “Don’t be ridiculous, Abby.” The name slips out without his permission. “FBI girl. Sweet. Carrying a torch for your old schoolmate Will, and by all accounts smart, although given your taste in men, I might have to question that.”

The look she gives him here is a little more annoyed, and he files that away in his memory. Then, before she can protest, he moves onto the question and answer portion of their little visit.

“What happened to you?”

She follows his gaze to her arm, and for a second, he thinks she might not remember at all. Her brows furrow, and she flexes her arm experimentally before wincing. Then, her expression clears. “Looked like… A bear.” She closes her eyes, and he shifts her abruptly, making her gasp.

“Sorry, but you have to stay awake. What kind of bear?”

“Small one. Not a baby, just… Small. Mean. But its claws were… Split. Little spikes sticking out. And the bear was blue. Was trying to help it, and it just… Attacked me.”

“Attacked its helper, huh?” Whether ‘small blue bear’ is an accurate description or simply her hazy mind’s interpretation, he can’t say for sure, but either way, at least he knows why she came to the Sanctuary instead of the hospital. Smart girl, this one. He’s not sure how much the others told her when she saw the Big Guy shot, but he doubts it was anything close to everything. Still, she knew to come here. “And they call me heartless.”

Her brows furrow, but she doesn’t reply.

Helen meets him halfway to the lab, and immediately sets to work, poking and prodding Abby with her arsenal of tools. She asks what happened, and Abby looks up at him, questioning, clearly lacking the strength to repeat herself.

Quickly, he relays everything he knows.

Helen pales in response, and Tesla’s stomach drops. Not a hallucination, then, and whatever it was, this definitely isn’t good.

By the time they reach the lab, Abby’s fading in and out of consciousness, groaning weakly. Her cheeks are unnervingly red, beads of sweat forming on her forehead. He lays her on a stretcher, and Helen moves to the closest cabinet, rifling through, gathering her equipment.

“Abby?” Will’s voice comes from behind Tesla, and Tesla blinks. When did he get here? “Oh, no…”

He sounds well and truly concerned, even if some petty part of Tesla wants to mock him. ‘At least you finally remember her,’ he thinks, but he bites it back, not out of any real regard for Will’s feelings, but because he’s not in the mood for Helen to glare at him.

“This is your friend, then?” Helen asks, filling a syringe with a strikingly blue liquid. “The one who helped Biggie?”

“Yeah, that’s her.”

“Then I owe her a great debt. I’ll do everything I can to help her.” As if she wouldn’t anyway. As if Helen’s entire life did not start and stop with seeing to the safety and wellness of these mortals, even at the expense of her own.

“Thank you.”

Tesla keeps silent through the exchange, watching her carefully. She’s starting to twitch and jerk on the bed, and Will rushes to her side, holding her in place as Helen injects her with whatever’s in the syringe.

Suddenly, her eyes open, and she turns her head to face him. “Tesla?” She holds out a hand, and his mind goes blank. She’s not-? What is she doing?

She seems urgent, though, and Helen gives him an impatient look. Fine then. He makes his way to Abby’s side. “What?”

Will’s looking at him in utter disbelief, which is more than a little enjoyable.

Abby frowns, reaching out once more, gaze fixed on his hand. Curious enough to play along, he reaches for her. Instead of holding his hand, as such, she catches it, pressing two fingers against his wrist with impressive concentration for a woman that seems to be struggling with keeping her eyes open.

All at once, her expression brightens. “Knew it,” she murmurs, releasing his hand.

“Knew what?”

She turns away, eyes fluttering shut, exhaustion and whatever Helen gave her obviously pulling her under. Words so impossibly slow he almost can’t make them out, she replies, “Not…. Heartless.”

And it’s such a simple phrase, just two words, wrapped in the innocence and optimism of a woman who doesn’t know him at all. If she had any idea of the things he’s done, of the choices he’s made and the blood on his hands, she wouldn’t say that for a moment. Not her. Not someone so good and right that she risks her own life to save creatures she does not understand.

Still, though. Still.

He can feel Helen’s eyes on him, and he looks up to see her absolutely smug expression, as if she can read every thought in his head. As if she can hear the way his mind skipped a beat, if only for a moment, at the simple reassurance.

Not that it did, of course. He’s stronger than that. “Not a word,” he warns, stepping back to let them work. “Not a word.”

(He’s still there when she wakes up. If anyone asks, it’s practical; this Sanctuary’s getting so crowded that he can hardly go anywhere without bumping into someone, and she’s much less capable of annoying him in her unconscious state.

Maybe, for the moment, he can even fool himself.)

#abby corrigan #nikola tesla #whump #abby/nikola #sanctuary #my fics #my writing #my works #mine #i haven't watched the next episode yet #i just Want This Ship #so I'm writing it before I get caught up and it inevitably sinks

14 notes · View notes

stacispratt · 3 years

Text

WIP Wednesaturday

thank you to @chyrstis for tagging me!! <3 i unfortunately don’t really have a WIP at the moment, at least nothing that i plan on posting to my ao3!!! i have been following a whumptober prompt list for the past week to write fc5 whump related to my deputy wesley, though, so i figured i could just post the prompt fill for today even though i’m not gonna post any of the other ones lol.

tagging @ohfaiths @softnerdypeter @zilthai37 @squiddtastic and anyone who sees this and wants to do it!! but no pressure <3

anyways, without further rambling, here it is!! it’s only 430 words but it is pretty angsty lol. john seed/male deputy!

///

"Why are you alone?" John asks, crossing his hands behind his back. "I assumed you'd break our agreement, bring all your friends." He smiles mirthlessly. "Or have they abandoned you?"

"Did you break your end of the deal?" Wes asks, and for the first time he truly hears the exhaustion in his own voice. "Snipers lining up their shots in the woods?"

Obviously, John can sense the exhaustion too. He can sense that something's off— Wes isn't his typical self. Their banter isn't so enjoyable. John's company isn't so enjoyable. John tilts his chin up, looks at Wes down the line of his nose. "Feeling tired, Deputy?" he taunts. Behind his back, he taps his fingers along his opposite wrist. "Finally ready to give in, is that it?"

Wes steps closer to John at an unhurried pace. "Afraid not, John."

John realizes very suddenly what Wes is here to do. His eyes prick, his jaw trembles, and he smiles. "So this is goodbye, huh?" Wes smiles and it does not reach his eyes. "Did they offer you an ultimatum?"

They did. Wes stops a foot away from John.

"This doesn't have to be the end," John says, ragged. "We don't have to say goodbye."

Wes closes his eyes, edges closer, until he can reach out and curl his fingers into the lapels of John's overcoat. "John," he breathes, then pauses to make sure his voice doesn't catch on the next part. "John, don't make this harder than it needs to be."

"This doesn't have to be goodbye," John insists, hands darting up to cradle Wes's face in his hands. Wes still doesn't open his eyes.

He can't look at John. He can't bear to look at John.

"We can still work together. Wes. Please. We can—" John's voice breaks off, then picks up again, rougher than before, thick with emotion. "We can still walk to Eden together."

Wes locks his jaw down hard. "John," he grits out, because apparently that's the only god damn thing he can say anymore. "We can't."

It was always going to turn out this way.

"We could be happy. Together. Finally." John's thumb coasts over Wes's cheek. "Don't we deserve that?" he pleads. "Don't we deserve to be happy?"

You did everything he said you would do.

"I wish we could," Wes gasps, barely an inch from a full-on sob. "I'm sorry."

He doesn't make it hurt. He makes it fast. One clean, painless shot.

The funny thing about blood is that everybody's looks the same. For some reason, Wes thought John's might look different.

#my fic #my writing #fc5 #john seed #john/wes

23 notes · View notes

ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years

Text

Handler Todd and 435689: Papers

Here are the results of my live-write exercise! It was super cool! That was a lot of fun and I hope the process was an enjoyable for you guys as it was for me to have you hang out and chat with me while I worked!

CW: Referenced whump of a minor (minor is not whumped during piece). Pet whump, institutionalized slavery. Some gross language regarding said minor. Character is 16.

“I don’t get it, ‘689.” Todd’s voice was weary, and the boy looked worriedly up at him, struggling to keep up with the taller man’s much longer strides - especially with the way he couldn’t quite put all his weight on his feet leg just now and had to kind of hop-walk down the hall just behind him. “Why bother? You don’t even know that other one’s number, and he had to be at least five years older than you.”

The boy swallowed, hands moving as though they would shove themselves into front pockets, but there weren’t any pockets in the black cloth shorts that were the only pants the boy ever remembered wearing. Finally, he just let them hang awkwardly down at his sides. “Is… is that a question, Handler?” He asked, keeping his voice pitched low.

“What? Yeah, ‘course it is,” Todd said, his eyes scanning the hallways as they walked.

Everything looked the same to the boy - it was always white, and nothing changed. It felt like they went a different way every time they took him somewhere - to the handlers’ training rooms, to the Clean Room where the boy learned to scrub floors until the grout shone white, to the Bad Room.

The handlers didn’t call it the Bad Room - the trainees did.

They kept the Table in the Bad Room.

“What, uh…” The boy cleared his throat, his voice kept trying to shake whenever he had to put his right foot down to walk. The handler didn’t notice, but the boy didn’t mind - they were always hurt, the handlers probably just assumed they were unless they were told otherwise. “What’s the-... the question?”

Handler Todd finally stopped, letting out a low sigh and turning to look down at him. “You are the shortest fucking Box Boy I’ve ever seen, and you’re definitely the youngest. Why’d you stick your neck out for someone who’s bigger, older, and stronger than you? You could’ve been seriously hurt, kiddo!”

The open concern in Handler Todd’s voice felt… so good. It felt so good to hear someone worry about him. Handler Todd was the only one who ever did.

“Well, he… he needed help. He didn’t mean to trip like that, it’s just, you know… we get so cold, here, it’s hard to walk. They shouldn’t have… punished him. It was just an accident.”

“‘689…” Handler Todd sighed again, and something about the way he did it sounded so familiar. It rang a bell in the boy’s mind, warm arms around him and that same soft sigh. He could almost hear a voice that went with it, if he tried.

Almost - but the headache got him, first. The boy winced, and the moment was gone.

“Look. I’m… I’m doing what I can to keep you off the radar of some of the… other guys, but you gotta help me out, here.” Handler Todd put a hand on the boy’s shoulders on either side, and he looked up into Todd’s eyes, his kind face, and he thought, I wish all of us could have handlers like you.

“I don’t like that they hurt us, though,” The boy said, setting his jaw. “That’s not fair.”

I don’t know who gave you that stubbornness, it sure didn’t come from my side of the family.

Headache again. This time, Handler Todd caught his wince and put a hand up to the side of his face, cool and calming. Training took over, and the boy leaned heavily into the touch, pressing his head into it like a cat.

Handler Todd jerked his hand back and away. “Shit. I forgot you guys do that, I’m… I’m sorry.”

“Do what?” The boy blinked, confused. “What… what did I do?”

“Uh… nothing. No, you’re good, ‘689. Look, I figured… I know that you’ve had a rough few weeks, and I thought… I don’t know.” Something passed over Handler Todd’s face, a shadow of sadness the boy didn’t understand. “I thought you could maybe use a break. For a while.”

The boy stepped closer to Handler Todd instinctively, crossing his arms in front of himself. His right leg burned but he forced his weight to rest on it, to prove that he wasn’t as hurt as he looked. The cane wasn’t so bad, there were worse ways you could get punished. “I’m okay,” He said, making sure to put a little hint of a plea there, a whine. The handlers liked when you sounded like you were begging. “I don’t need a break, sir, I’m, I’m okay. I don’t want to go back to my room, I can keep training, I can-”

Handler Todd swallowed and backed slightly away from him, but the boy followed him, trying to press into his space a little, to show that he was fine. “No… hey. No, kiddo. Look, you just-... can you just stay at arms’ length for a sec? I don’t mean go back to your room, I promise.”

“Can I… can I sleep on a mat? In the training room?” The boy brightened at that. That was a special reward, you only got to sleep on the heated mats in the training rooms if you did really, really well that day. The boy couldn’t remember the last time he’d done more than doze, really, he was never good for long enough.

They were always hurting some other trainee, and the boy was always trying to stop them.

“I can do you one better, kiddo,” Handler Todd said, his own expression softening into a slight smile as he saw the hopefulness on the boy’s face. “I can take you outside.” He pointed to a door with a passcode lock at the end of the hallway. It looked exactly like every other door the boy had ever seen, with AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY written on it.

The boy could still read - he knew some of the others couldn’t, any longer, but he could.

“Out… outside?” The boy’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and he gnawed nervously on his lower lip, looking at the door again. It didn’t look like a door to outside… and they all knew that outside wouldn’t ever happen until you were bought. And even then your owner might decide to keep you locked up and that was okay, too, because you only existed the way they wanted you to…

“Truly. I promise. Look, I had to… call in a couple favors to make this happen, but… you’ve earned it, kiddo.” Handler Todd hesitated, that weird sad look on his face again. “Shit, you know, there’s… there’s more of you who deserve a good fucking day outside without any of this bullshit than I, I knew… but fuck. You know?”

The boy blinked at him. There was a silence.

“... right, no you don’t. Okay. Look, I’ll try and explain a bit more once we’re out there, okay? Just close your eyes.”

The boy obediently shut his eyes and lifted his chin, just slightly, but all the handler did was take him carefully by the wrist and lead him down the hall, moving more slowly this time. The chill air that came through the vents, endlessly recycled and recirculated, smelling stale and musty, made the boy shiver. He was never anything but cold here, except when Handler Todd would hug him sometimes. Nobody else hugged him.

Don’t mind us, the weird voice he heard sometimes said, somewhere far back in his mind, behind the wall they’d built inside him. We’re all huggers in this family.

He had to stop this or his headache was going to get really bad. The boy focused on his steps, the twinge of pain up his right leg, the ache in his ribs from getting kicked, the way his back throbbed from being caned there, too. If he focused on the pain they gave him, he could forget the pain in his head, and forget what the pain tried to bring with it.

Handler Todd’s grip on his wrist, though, was warm, and not too tight - Handler Todd never hurt him, ever, even when he was angry and defiant and deserved it - and the boy smiled, faintly, as he was led.

Then he heard the soft beeping of the passcode - three short beeps, two long ones, although he didn’t know why or what it meant - and the metallic sound of Handler Todd turning the long handle on the door.

A blast of heat.

The boy didn’t think he’d ever felt hot air before.

Then the light hit, turning the black behind his closed eyes a kind of brownish red, and the boy flinched back from it, a soft worried sound deep in his throat. “H-Handler-”

“It’s okay, kiddo. It’s okay.” Handler Todd let go of his wrist only to step up close to him, and the boy melted into his side as quickly as he could, chasing the safety. Handlers were safe. They might hurt you, but it was to make you learn - and besides, Handler Todd never hurt him. He was the safest handler of all of them.

Todd slid an arm around the boy’s shoulders and said softly, “Open your eyes. Blink a few times, kiddo, you need to remember sunlight, it can kind of hurt if you come out from the inside light too fast.”

The boy cracked open one eye, and finally two. The light pierced eyes that hadn’t seen it before, felt hot on skin that was only ever cold, now. The world around him began to come into some kind of focus, and he pushed harder into Todd, worried, eyes darting around at the world outside the Facility.

“Am I… am I allowed out here?” He asked, in a hush.

“No,” Handler Todd said. “So this is our little secret, okay? Just you and me?”

Our little secret.

The boy fought the cold rush of fear at the words. Nobody bothered him, not since Handler Todd started talking to him, but he’d heard handlers say those words before, to the other trainees, and… “What… what kind of secret?”

“Huh?” Todd blinked down at him, confused, then looked back out at the world. “Just don’t tell them I brought you outside, kiddo. I’ll get written up for sure for something like this, and you do not want the Director on your ass for breaking rules. Come on, I want to show you something.”

Todd pulled the boy off to the side, and he stared around himself in wonder. There was a giant parking lot that stretched forever, he thought - or at least until it hit a road, and he could hear traffic but not see it somewhere over that direction. There was a green sign that stood tall above everything else, and the boy squinted at it.

STARBUCKS

What was a Starbucks?

Then they had gone through a small gate to a fenced-in area, and the green sign was gone. Instead… the boy stared around at a small courtyard, with benches and kind of a covered area and grass.

He didn’t realize he had fallen to his hands and knees to feel at the grass until he heard Handler Todd laughing, sort of chuckling to himself, as he closed the gate behind them. “It’s been awhile, huh?”

Grass was spiky but soft, both at the same time. Must’ve rained, the boy thought, and wasn’t sure where the thought came from, only knew that the pain followed in its wake. He slowly laid his head down until his cheek brushed the blades of grass, moving it back and forth, humming to himself.

Handler Todd walked away from him, giving him space, and took a seat up on the table part of a picnic table, pulling a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out. He watched the boy moving slowly over the grass, taking a long drag and then blowing the smoke out thoughtfully. “What do you think?”

“I think you could put a garden here,” The boy said, then winced. “Ow.”

“Yeah, don’t think too hard, kiddo. I know we take that out of you.” Todd sighed, still smoking, taking quick drags. “Shit, my nerves are shot working here these days. I was okay before I realized some of you are so young, but I can’t just… fucking quit, can I?”

The boy realized after a moment’s pause that Handler Todd apparently expected him to answer. He looked up from inspecting a violet, pressing his fingertip against the soft petals, and said, “Can’t you?”

“Ha. Right. My kids need insurance and there’s no company in the state gives a high-school graduate benefits like this. Plus, I mean, you can’t beat the vacation time, the paid time off, I just…” He trailed off, slowly, and looked over at the boy.

Kneeling on the grass holding a violet he’d picked between thumb and forefinger, the boy wore the white shirt and black trainee shorts and the wide-band shock collar around his neck. He blinked at the handler, then looked slowly around himself.

“What? Did I… is something… is something wrong?”

“No… I mean, yes, but not anything you did. Come over here, kiddo.”

The boy jumped instantly to his feet, ignoring the pain that shot up his right leg - push it back in your head, it doesn’t matter, it’s just going to hurt and you just have to find a way to keep going when it does. He moved quickly to Handler Todd and stood in front of him in Position One, sliding instinctively into the straight-backed posture with his hands behind his back, eyes slightly lowered. “Yes, sir?”

“Look. I didn’t actually… bring you out here because you, uh, got punished today. That was kind of… you definitely need to stop throwing yourself in front of other trainees, but… that’s not why we’re here.”

The boy nodded, slowly, confused.

“Look, you, uh… um. Shit. I’m not sure how to say this. I’m not gonna see you much longer, kiddo.”

The boy’s head jerked up, wide brown eyes focusing on the handler’s, searching for some sign that he was joking, or lying. He stepped forwards, dropping onto his knees on the picnic bench, looking up at Handler Todd, who scooted slightly back, putting more space between them. “Did you… are you leaving, sir? B-but… but no one else is nice, you’re-... you’re the only one who’s nice to me, I don’t get to talk to anyone else…”

“Hey, no. I’m not leaving.” Todd stubbed out his cigarette half-smoked and set it aside, then put his hands back at the boy’s shoulders, rubbing at them gently with his thumbs. “I’m not going anywhere, kiddo.”

“But you said-”

“You are.”

The sun shone hot on his back, made the top of his head feel deliciously warm as it soaked into his dark brown hair. He could smell the earth and grass all around him, and even smell Handler Todd’s cologne, sort of strong and he hadn’t liked it at first, but now it meant safety like no other scent did. “... what?”

“You, uh. You got papers, today.” Todd smiled at him, but it was fainter this time, it wasn’t a smile he meant. Papers meant owners, which was good, but Todd didn’t look like it was good. He looked like… like…

He looked like when you found out your grandpa died, and Mom smiled like this when she said, “At least he’s in a better place,” and you wondered what place, and-

The boy pitched forward, groaning as the lance of pain in his head seemed to ricochet through him, throwing his arms around Handler Todd’s waist and holding tight. Handler Todd leaned forward and slid arms around his neck and held him, too, mistaking his pain for fear, murmuring soft comforting things while the boy tried to stop the aberrant thought from digging its claws too deep.

“Who bought me?” He whispered into Handler Todd’s shirt collar, the rough scratchy fabric that he hated but kind of liked, when it was Todd. “What are they like? Are they gonna be nice to me?”

Todd took a deep, deep breath. The boy felt him drawing the air slowly into his lungs, holding it, and just as slowly letting it out. His arms tightened around the boy’s shoulders, drawing him up a little bit so he was standing on his knees on the bench, his head tucked into Handler Todd’s neck. “A man bought you as a gift for his friend.”

The boy nodded, slowly. This was why he was here, what he was made for, to go to an owner at the end of training. He should be happy about it, but he felt cold, instead. Scared to leave Todd, and scared to leave the white room and the hallways, scared to leave the rules he knew and go live in a new place with new rules he didn’t.

“I’m still… I still get to be a Domestic, right?”

“Right. You’ll be her Domestic. Just like we talked about, just like training.”

“But… I’m not done with training.”

That deep breath again. The boy pulled back, chanced a look up at Todd’s face, and caught an odd glittery look in his eyes. “I know,” Todd said gently. “I know you’re not. But the, um. The order was to send someone… unfinished.”

Confusion, again. Pets weren’t supposed to ask questions, but the boy was pretty bad at remembering that rule, and Todd never punished him for talking too much like the others did, so… he thought it was safe to ask one more. “Why?”

Todd opened his mouth to answer, then closed it again. “You’re a fighter,” Todd said, finally. “You fit the profile. Young, dark brown hair and brown eyes, pale skin, and… defiant. The man who bought you wants to give his friend a, uh… someone who will be defiant to her.”

“I don’t… I don’t understand,” The boy said, in a voice just above a whisper. “We’re not supposed to be defiant. I’m, I’m bad when I talk back, it’s bad that I can’t stop… why… why would they want-”

“Look,” Todd cut in, and the boy flinched, ducking his head down. “Shit, I’m sorry. No, I didn’t mean to sound mad. I’m not mad, kiddo, I promise. Hey. Hey, look at me. Look up at me.” The boy slowly raised his eyes, and Todd took his chin in his fingers, keeping his head tilted up to make eye contact. His voice went low, and soft. “I’m not mad at you. This just… I’m just mad that you’re being sent off on purpose when you’re not done, and that my complaint went nowhere and I’m kind of worried about some shit I didn’t realize was in my contract, and… I’m not mad, I promise.”

“Is it that I get to finish learning with my owner? Is that why?” The boy guessed, and thought maybe he’d guessed right when the shadow passed over Todd’s face again, and he didn’t answer. He just pulled the boy in closer and held onto him. The faint smell of cigarette smoke clung to his shirt and his skin, and the boy kind of liked it, on him.

“Yeah,” Todd said, finally, resting his chin on the boy’s hair. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s it. Maybe she just wants one-on-one, she hasn’t… done that in a long time. She probably doesn’t know how young you are. Shit, no, she does. I’m sure she does, because she knew they did that to you, she knew it and she told me I was making too big a deal out of nothing… fuck.” He sighed, and the boy wondered how many ways there were to sigh, because it felt like Todd knew all of them.

“So it’s, it’s a woman?” The boy frowned, trying to piece together what Handler Todd was saying, but none of it made any sense. A man bought him for a woman, because he wasn’t done, because he was defiant, but the woman knew about it, and knew about… something…

When the boy tried to think about it too much, the headache threatened around the edges, along with an awful rolling fog. He closed his eyes tightly, and forced himself to forget.

“Yeah… well, kind of. Or some kind of fucking predatory lizard wearing a person suit,” Todd muttered, bitterly.

“... what?”

“Nothing. Nothing, kiddo. I just, you know, I don’t… know what it’s going to be like, when you go home for the first time. So I thought maybe you would, uh, just like to see somewhere kind of nice for a while. But, hey, she’s already got two others, so you’ll have friends, right?”

The boy knew the answer to this one, and the words rolled instantly off his tongue, effortless and easy. “Pets don’t make emotional connections with other pets, they are designed to connect with their owners to the exclusion of-”

“Okay, okay, okay, quit it. I don’t need to hear that. I know you know it. But that’s a lie, pets get attached to each other all the time. We don’t like the owners to know it, but…” Todd shrugged. “Talk to your other ones, when you get there, okay? They’ll help you settle in and learn what to… what to expect. From her.”

The boy nodded, relieved. He could learn from them, and maybe he could be good enough that whoever she was would like him.

“Hey, um… sir?” He twisted his fingers into Todd’s shirt, slipping into the space between two buttons along the front and feeling the rough cotton against his fingers. “Can I… can I ask… something?”

Todd didn’t move away from him, this time, and the boy had never felt so warm in his life - being held by someone in the sunshine, out in the fresh air. He was warm inside and out, even with his fear, even not knowing who he would go to.

But you had to go to someone eventually.

What else was he even made for, if not that?

“Sure, kiddo. Fire away.” Todd’s eyes kept skipping down to the half-smoked cigarette, itching to pick it back up and light it again. The boy followed his gaze, frowning slightly, and then he pulled back, reaching across Todd’s leg to pick up the cigarette himself.

Handler Todd stared at him as the boy picked up the lighter, too, and flicked it open, thumb effortlessly pressing the little pad there just right to bring up the flame. “Since when do you fucking know how to do that?”

The boy put the end of the cigarette against the flame, then blinked and looked up. “I don’t know.”

Todd took the cigarette, and laughed - but it was barely a sound, and hardly a smile, and the boy didn’t really think it was a laugh he meant at all.

“Ask me your question, kiddo. What’s up?”

“Do I, um.” He watched the cloud of smoke as Todd exhaled, stinging his eyes and making the boy cough. Todd apologized, clapping his back until he hit a sore spot and the boy winced at that, too. Finally, his voice a little strained, the boy said softly, “Do I still get to see you, when I go home?”

Todd was silent.

In a tree nearby, a bird sang, and the boy thought, yellow bird with black wings, 9 letters, starts with G. Ow.

“... no, kiddo,” Todd finally said, and when the boy’s mouth trembled a little in response, Todd kept his eyes firmly turned away. “That’s not… that’s not how it works. Look, I shouldn’t have been doing this anyway. Half my coworkers think I’m fucking you, for Christ’s sake.”

“... half your coworkers don’t have much r-room to talk,” The boy said, and felt heat burning behind his eyes when Todd looked at him, surprised, and smiled.

“Shit, kid. I think when you come in so young you’re more resilient, more of you sticks. Hold onto that for me, yeah? Maybe… maybe her other ones will be nice, that’d be good for you. Look, I… I’m sorry this shit turned out the way it did. I wouldn’t work here if I’d have known they were taking you guys in against your will. Not that me not working here would fix your problems…”

“I, I want you working here, though,” The boy said quickly, a little desperately. “You’re nice to me, nobody else is nice to me. I want there to be nice people here, for us.”

Todd groaned and leaned forward, slowly resting his head on the boy’s shoulder. The boy held onto him tightly, tears burning in his eyes even though he was supposed to be happy, because… because Handler Todd had made things a little better, and he kind of didn’t want to go home.

“It’d be easier for you all if none of us were,” Todd mumbled without raising his head. “Jesus fuck, kid, this job is fucking killing me. I’m helping you kids out the best I can, but there’s nothing I can do, and I hate that I can’t… just go, either. I just… I can’t think of anyone worse than the goddamn Director to own a kid as good as you.”

The boy’s heart froze.

“... the Director?”

Clicking heels on cold tile floors. Awful eyes, that bright red hair. Smiles that never seemed like more than muscles moving to try and fake an expression she didn’t really feel. Black cane in hand with a silver tip.

Are we going to have a problem, 435689?

“... shit,” Todd said, just as the boy pulled back, jerked himself back all at once, lost his balance and collapsed backwards off the bench onto the ground, scrambling back in a panic. “Shit, I wasn’t supposed to-... I shouldn’t have said that, I’m sorry, kid, shit-”

“The, the… the, wait, no-... but, but she can’t-...” The boy’s throat constricted, he could feel the way she looked at him, the weight of her eyes because she only showed up when he was at his worst and then, and then… “The Director is who I go to?”

The fear built and built and built inside of him, pressure that threatened to shred him apart, and finally the pressure broke. The boy curled in on himself in the grass and opened his mouth in a scream, but he couldn’t find the breath to make the sound.

Everyone was scared of the Director - everyone.

In a place where everyone hurt you, the Director hurt you the worst.

He made the face into the ground, he didn’t know for how long, trying to breathe in the scent of the soil and the grass again to calm himself, but all he could think of was the Table, when he was really bad and kept hurting handlers trying to get out, and they brought her.

Click, click, click click, heels on tile floors, and some of the boys that went with her never came back to their rooms.

Todd gently laid a hand on his back, and the boy jerked back and away from him with a cry, half-convinced it was her, only to look up into Todd’s worried, kind eyes.

Not kind enough to save him.

“I’m sorry, kiddo, I shouldn’t have told you.”

“I don’t want to go with her,” The boy whispered, and was surprised to find there were already tears on his face. He wiped at them hurriedly with grass-stained fingers, leaving a little green streak along one cheekbone. “I don’t want to be owned by her. I don’t want-”

Todd glanced up and beyond him, out towards the parking lot, and his jaw set in a grim line. Then he looked back at the boy and said, in a slightly harsher voice, “Want isn’t important for you.”

“Hey, Todd, what you got in there?” Another handler’s voice called, too close, and the boy flinched forwards into the arm Todd slid effortlessly around him.

“Just snuck this one out for a while,” Todd said, a smile in his voice, a mean one. The way the other handlers smiled. “Gets a little loud in there, you know? Plus, I needed a cigarette and I wanted something to look at while I smoked.”

“Ha, fair enough. You better get back in, though, we’re due for one of those meeting things again.” The other handler swung the little gate to the courtyard open, and the boy cringed back into Handler Todd’s side at the look in his sparkling dark eyes. “Oh, pretty one. I’ve never seen him before.”

“You don’t exactly work with these, Manning. Come on, let’s get inside. I’ll drop him off at his room.” Todd got to his feet, pulling the boy up after him.

The other handler grinned at the sight of the boy pressed against Handler Todd’s side, staring at him with frightened eyes. “Didn’t have you pegged for this to be your type, Todd.”

“Yeah, well. You don’t know shit about me, Connor,” Todd snapped, pulling the boy right past him to head for the door. “Next time, don’t interrupt me with one of them, yeah?”

“What the fuck ever, man. Don’t get so fucking testy.” Connor gave a low wolf-whistle, then laughed when the boy flinched again at the sound. “He’s neat. Man, I would happily pull overtime for that-”

“He’s sixteen years old, Manning,” Todd said flatly.

There was a long silence.

“Okay, never mind that. I’m fucked up but I’m not that fucked up. I mean. You are, but-”

“Shut up.” Todd pulled the boy back inside, closing the door behind them right in the other handler’s face. “There, now he’ll have to go around to the front.” He turned to look at the boy, tilting his head, lifting his hand to wipe the grass stain away with his thumb. “You okay, kid?”

“No,” The boy said, in a very small voice. “I don’t… I don’t think I’m okay.”

“Yeah… that’s probably not the smartest question I could ask.” The air was already beginning to chill the boy’s skin, wiping away the warmth he’d had from the sun and from Handler Todd’s arms around him. He’d felt safe, for just a second, and now he felt like he was about to be pushed off a cliff. “I guess what I mean is… is there anything I can do for you, before you go back to your room?”

“Help me,” The boy said, softly, looking up searchingly into Todd’s eyes, grabbing onto his shirt again. “Help me not go to her. I don’t, I don’t want to go home with the Director. Get me s-someone else, someone else can, can buy me, right? Someone else?”

“Man already paid his balance upfront,” Todd said softly. “It doesn’t work that way. I’m sorry.”

The boy felt goosebumps break out over his skin, the first real shiver of chill from being back in the frozen air. He hadn’t realized until Todd had brought him outside what it even felt like to not be shivering anymore.

Suddenly, the boy hated Todd more than anything, for taking him out there and then telling him he was going home with the Director. Todd had ruined the sun, and the grass, and the bench and the sign across the street, he had ruined all of it.

Why be nice if you were only going to do the worst thing of all?

“I want to go back to my room,” The boy said, lips moving numbly, pushing sound out, but he was only dimly aware of it. “Take me, take me back to my room, please.”

“Are you sure? I could maybe get you time for a nap while we do our meeting, on the training mats-”

“I want to go to my room,” The boy said again, his chest tight and heavy, heart pounding. “I want to, I want to be alone in my room now, please. Please just, just take me back to my room, I want to go to my room, I want-...”

I want to go home.

I don’t want to be here.

I don’t want this.

I want my life back.

“Kid, calm down, it’s not going to be that bad-... no, shit, that’s not-... fuck. Okay. Look, if you just-”

“Fuck you!” The boy shouted the words, and heard them echo down the hall, before he even understood he had spoken. He clapped his own hands over his mouth, eyes wide as he stared up at Todd, breathing in gasps.

Todd stared at him wide-eyed. He didn’t look mad, or even upset. He just looked… surprised. “What?”

The boy’s hands slowly dropped when no punishment seemed to be coming, and he swallowed, hard. “I, I said… I said… I said fuck you. You, you think you’re nicer but y-you’re not, because you… you just-... you make me remember people can be nice but you don’t help me!”

“I, I can’t, kid, I have to think about my family-”

“I had a family, too!” Todd grabbed at him and the boy tried to push away, but the handlers were always so strong, and he was crushed against Todd whether he liked it or not, trying weakly to push back, finally giving up and burying his face into Todd’s shirt, feeling it go slowly damp as he cried. “I had a family, too, why do you get a family but I don’t?”

“Shit,” was all Todd said.

But he held him, and it wasn’t nearly enough, but it was something.

They stood there - the boy didn’t know how long - until his crying calmed down, until he was breathing the smell of cigarette smoke and cologne and it was a good smell, the only good smell here, and the boy didn’t feel any better for shouting.

He just felt… empty.

And scared.

“Will you still come visit me and, and be my handler, until I… go?”

He felt Todd nod against his hair, the arms around him tighten again. “Yeah, kiddo. I will. I’ll be the last handler you see before they put you in your box, okay? I promise.”

The boy didn’t feel any better to hear it. But at least he didn’t feel worse.

“I don’t want this to be my life,” He whispered.

“Yeah… yeah. I know. Come on, let’s get you settled back in, if I’m late my supervisor will have my ass handed to me on a plate.”

I don’t give a fuck about your supervisor.

The boy kept his thought behind his teeth, because you weren’t supposed to talk back, or complain, or be sad. You just were.

“Look, what’s… what’s something you want that I can get you, huh? I’ll bring it to you after the meeting’s over?” Handler Todd began to help him move back down the hallway, keeping a hand on his lower back, the only part of him that felt warm when he walked.

He could ask for pain medicine for his leg, or he could ask for a pillow - he hadn’t been good enough for one, but…

There was only one thing he wanted.

“Can I have a granola bar?”

“Yeah, sure, kid. That’s all you want?”

No.

I want my fucking mom back.

151 notes · View notes

ariddletobesolved · 4 years

Text

Days We Spend Under the Sun (Chapter Two)

Written for @helsa-summer-event

Fandom: Frozen

Genre: Romance, Family, Fluff, Whump

Rating: T

Summary: Summer is not her favourite season, but a certain Admiral from the neighbouring kingdom is going to change that.

Perhaps we should call this a collection of Helsa fluff drabbles. External links (including some links to the prologue and chapter one) are in the notes. Enjoy!

Prompt 2: Blue Skies and Dandelion Fuzz

—

Chapter Two

One of the best things about the forest is the serenity it offers, this pretty much she knew.

Standing near the river bank, Elsa had been staring at her own reflection for a while. It was still early in the morning when she sneaked out of Hans's warm embrace and out of her own hut in the village. Not that she didn't want to stay and cuddle—despite the fact that the weather was rather hot, but she would like some space for her to think, and the river bank being one of her favourite places in the Enchanted Forest could offer that.

Her mind began to wander to the event that happened the day before. Hans was indeed full of surprises when it came to wooing her, she was aware of that fact. But the trick he pulled, when he broke into a gallop instead of stopping to let her summon the Nokk, was one she didn't see coming. Nonetheless, she still found the journey quite enjoyable. Even during a few stops did she not try to summon the Nokk. The way he held her close to his chest was something she found comfort in. Eventually, they arrived in the forest when the sun went down, and Yelena was the first one to greet them, accompanied by Honeymaren. After having dinner, they stopped by the stable-like area in the village to give Sitron an extra bag of carrots. Tired from the long journey, they finally turned in and Elsa, of course, had to share her hut with Hans.

Sighing in contentment, Elsa began to stretch her muscles. It had been quite some time since the last time she was back in the forest, she almost forgot how different the place was from Arendelle. It was really quiet in the morning. There was no sound of people trading or arguing, no sound of hooves clicking against the pavement, nothing but the serenity of nature. She smiled, still looking at her own reflection, before a familiar set of eyes stared back at her. The Nokk.

The water spirit rose from the river, standing tall before her in the form of a majestic horse. Elsa looked up with one hand reaching out to gently caress the spirit. Affectionately nuzzling its face close to hers, it was as if the Nokk tried to tell her that it missed her. Elsa let out a chuckle, for she was amused by the spirit.

"I've missed you too, Nokk." She said. "Sorry about yesterday, but Hans had another plan. At least we're here now."

The horse walked around above the river, and Elsa tilted her head in confusion.

"Are you complaining, now?" She raised her eyebrow. But before she could react, she saw a flash of fire. It danced from stone to stone, before stopping beside her feet. Bending down, Elsa smiled. "Hello, little guy!"

The fire died down, and a blue salamander crawled upon her open palm. Elsa conjured a small rain of snowflakes to the creature's amusement, as it poked its tongue out to catch some fallen snowflakes.

"You like it, huh?"

Blinking and tilting its head, Bruni, the fire spirit, stared at her with something like glee. It was obvious that the fire spirit was glad to have her back. The blonde grinned, finding the gesture adorable. Looking up, she saw the Nokk staring at her intensely.

"What?"

The water horse motioned at the path towards the village.

"You want to see Hans?" She inquired. At the mention of the former prince, Bruni smiled wider. "Why, so you can try to drown him again?"

If Nokk could laugh, it would certainly roll onto its belly, Elsa was sure of that. The unspoken tension between the two brought back a memory of their first meeting. It happened shortly after Hans was released from a three hour long questioning, in which the decision sparked a brief tension between her and her sister. Anna, being the wise queen she was, decided that she found nothing harmful with his presence back in Arendelle. Hans was there to deliver an invitation under the Crown Prince of the Southern Isles' order. Elsa, refusing to accept it, mounted on the Nokk and rode across the ocean towards where his ship was in the harbour. They had a quarrel which resulted in him slipped on Elsa's ice and fell into the water. The Nokk, that was offended by Hans' accidental name calling 'water horse' did try to drown him, leaving Elsa standing on her ice.

"He is not the same man, you know." She sighed, making her way towards the majestic horse. Bruni crawled up and rested on her shoulder. "He has grown to be a better person, don't you worry about it."

Elsa smiled at that thought. It wasn't easy to get where she was, but time had given them a chance. Then, faintly, she heard some footsteps walking closer. She turned, only to see Ryder walking with a smaller reindeer.

"Morning, Elsa."

She smiled. "Ryder! I didn't see you last night. How are you holding up?"

The young man returned the smile, half shrugging sheepishly. "Well, I'm fine, I guess? I've been taking care of the reindeers." He nudged the reindeer standing beside him, who nudged back. "This one is John."

"Oh," Elsa tried to bite back a laugh, "that's quite a name for a reindeer."

"I know." Ryder brushed it off as if it was nothing, certainly not aware of Elsa's amused face. "Oh, and one more thing, Hans is looking for you."

"Sure." Elsa turned to the Nokk, who was tilting its head. "I'll be there shortly."

"Great! I'll head off to the meado now." He said. "Also, the breakfast is ready, so you better go back soon."

Nodding, she looked back. "Sure. I'll see you later, Ryder."

"See you later, Elsa." With that, he took off with the reindeer.

Once again, she was left alone with the spirits. "You're coming, Nokk?" Instead of answering, the Nokk turned around and dived into the water. "So, it's just us." Elsa turned to the excited salamander, that was now crawling onto the top of her head. "Fine, it seems like you really are excited to see Hans."

She made her way towards a familiar path that led her back to the village. Taking a deep breath, she let the clean morning breeze fill her system. She looked up to the blue sky and sighed. Nothing topped a nice breezy summer morning. It was rather warm in the forest, since summer had arrived up north, but she liked it. Unlike Anna, Elsa wasn't a huge fan of summer. She couldn't really stand the heat, and would take every opportunity to take shelter under the shade. The reason why she agreed to Hans' suggestion to ditch the carriage—other than to spend more private time together on the journey—was because of her ability to conjure some clouds above them should the weather be too sunny.

The sound of children playing around and people starting the day got louder as Elsa walked closer to the village. From afar, she spotted a familiar auburn haired Admiral sitting on the ground with two bowls of steaming food beside him. He looked far too engrossed in a conversation with a brunette sitting before him, he didn't see her coming.

Elsa saw this as an opportunity to surprise him, but before she could do such a thing, Bruni already beat her to it. The salamander hopped from her head and landed safely on the ground, before it crawled towards the Admiral. Upon the tiny element of surprise, Hans almost jumped on his seat. Bruni settled on his shoulder, causing him to turn and saw Elsa standing nearby.

"Elsa." He looked a little taken aback, before flashing her a smile. "Have you been there for a while?"

"No." Taking a seat next to him, Elsa pecked his lips shortly. "I have just arrived." She then turned to the brunette. "Morning, Maren."

"Good morning, Elsa." Honeymaren smiled. "Did you see Ryder?"

"Yes, I did." Elsa nodded, taking a bowl Hans offered her. "Thank you, Hans." Turning back to her distant cousin, she continued, "So, what were you two talking about? You both seemed engrossed."

Honeymared glanced at Hans, before replying, "Nothing that would interest you, really. Hans was asking about the crops, yeah."

Hans smiled. He didn't say anything, instead, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. But something told Elsa that it wasn't exactly their main topic of discussion.

"Okay."

"Where were you?" Hans asked. "I woke up this morning and you were nowhere to be seen."

"I was at the river bank, talking to Nokk, before Bruni came." She smiled at the beaming salamander. "They missed you."

Hans playfully rolled his eyes. "Yeah, as if the water horse misses me. I wouldn't be surprised if the little guy here did, or maybe Gale, since it greeted me earlier before deciding to play with those kids." He gestured at the wind spirit swirling around two giggling children.

Elsa grinned in response. "What did I tell you? Nokk doesn't like it."

"What will the Nokk do anyway, try to drown me?" He raised a brow, before shrugging. "Anyway, you should finish your breakfast. Are you going to visit Ahtohallan later today?"

She shook her head no. "I'll go to Ahtohallan tomorrow."

"Great! Because I have a plan for the two of us later." Hans beamed, briefly glancing at Honeymaren, who shrugged slightly.

Elsa narrowed her eyes. "What is it?"

"That, Kaere, is for me to know," Hans poked the tip of her nose, "and for you to find out."

"Fine."

Elsa beamed. Excitement surged through her, as her mind began to think of a few possibilities. She might look as if she wasn't expecting much, but deep inside, anticipation was building up. She looked forward to whatever adventure he had in store for her.

#helsa #helsa summer event #helsasummerevent #helsasummerevent2020 #hans x elsa #elsa x hans #iceburns #days we spend under the sun #helsa post frozen 2 au #helsa fanfiction #mary's writing

28 notes · View notes

amethystpath-writes · 3 years

Text

Darling, I Did it for You (Part 18)

Part 1 here

Part 17 here

It's been half a second since I updated this. I've been busy with uni so I've been trying to do drabbles, but this series and my dear Leera and Kastion haven't been forgotten either!

Tag list: @silverwhisperer1 @whatwhumpcomments @whump-me-all-night-long @catsandhotchocolate16 (tag still isn't working :|)

Character key:

Villain= Carson

Hero= Malory/Mal

Brother=Beckley/Beck

Sister=Casey

Caretaker=Dakota/Kota

******

"I'm still mad at you," Malory said as she walked into the theatre room. Her arms were crossed, as if she thought her words wouldn't be enough to express her anger. She sat in a plush chair as far back in the room as possible.

Carson's face scrunched up in confusion. He shifted his body around in his seat to look at the hero. He was sat in the front row, beside Beckley. "If you're still mad then why did you come in here?"

Mal turned her head, not interested in seeing Carson's face. She was angry, and angry meant giving the silent treatment. Well, maybe not completely silent. "Because I heard movie previews playing and I don't have a television in my room. I'm not missing out on any entertainment." She said to Beckley, "Hit play."

Turning his head to face his younger brother, Carson quipped, "Don't hit play." He turned back on Malory. "Are you going to tell me what the problem is or am I just supposed to figure it out?" When she said nothing, he huffed. "If you're so terribly upset then why haven't you left? I told you you're not a prisoner here."

Her face relaxed from a solid wrath to something Mal didn't even understand. A numb? An indifference? She wasn't sure. Either way it didn't matter because she was done speaking to Carson. "Play the movie."

Continue reading below cut ⬇

"Look, I don't want to get in the middle of this. Why don't you guys-"

Malory shook her head, her fury returning. She ignored Beckley as she nearly shouted, "I almost killed you. That's what's wrong." So she wasn't done speaking to him after all.

Carson muttered a quiet 'Oh my god'. "Haven't we already been over this? I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry,I'msorry. Is that enough?" He wasn't meaning to become angry, but else was there to do? He already apologized before, and it was even heartfelt! And Malory had expressed her anger then. Why was she still going on about it?

There was silence. Then there was the sound of a theatre seat's bottom shooting up, slamming into the backside. Next, Mal's footsteps. Finally, a door opening and clicking shut.

"You're more idiotic than I give you credit for," Beckley said to Carson.

"You're going to tell me that she was afraid of killing someone. I already know that. But it's over." He reached across his brother to grab the remote then turned the volume up. Apparently Beckley muted it at some point during the commotion.

"Try again."

"What?"

Beck repeated himself. "Try again. You're close, but not quite there."

Carson sighed. This was ridiculous. "She almost killed me. And for whatever reason that stresses her out more than if she'd killed anyone else."

Beckley patted his older brother on the shoulder before quickly retreating his hand. How could he forget that Carson's powers were growing? Who knew how long it be until touching him would cause paralysis?

"Let's think about it. What could it mean?" Beck stuck his pointer finger out. "One. She doesn't know what she'd do without you. You did kind of steal her from her regular life. Her landlord has probably already thrown her possessions out of the building window."

Well, Carson was sort of paying for rent. Just until he could bring Malory's stuff here, if that's what she wanted. She never brought it up, though, so neither did he.

"Two." Another finger. "Living here is actually more enjoyable than that musty apartment and if you're dead- well, that's just weird. Because then our parents would come back for the funeral, only to discover they had a new child. I don't imagine that going well."

Their parents knew about Malory. Not that she was a superhero- they didn't even know that Carson had powers. They thought Mal was their oldest son's girlfriend. It wasn't Carson's idea. No, it was Casey's. She spoke to her parents more than Beck and Carson did. And she made that outlandish claim just to screw with her older brother.

"Three, and probably the most obvious...she cares for you."

Carson laughed.

"I'm serious. You can't be that oblivious."

"And how would you know? Humour me."

The title screen appeared on the TV. Carson hit play. He didn't even feel like watching the movie anymore. "I'm going to go get her."

"Malory?"

"Yeah. She wanted to watch a movie, so I'm bringing her back downstairs."

Despite acknowledging this time that it could potentially make him numb, Beck put a hand on Carson's shoulder. "She isn't going to come down yet, not unless you can show her that you understand why she's so angry."

Beckley added, "Before you say that you don't understand. I'll tell you. She does care about your idiotic self. Why? Because you showed you cared. Maybe not in the right way at first, but you've grown for her, and that's more than what the last guy did."

Carson raked a hand through his hair. "I don't know."

"You asked her shy she didn't leave."

"Yeah? And?"

"Malory didn't give you an answer." Carson nodded in obvious agreement. "It's because she doesn't want to. Mal isn't afraid of leaving. She said it herself; she almost killed you. If she wanted to leave, she would. But she doesn't want to. You put her in a position to kill the person she loves, and that's why she's angry."

"Who would she have killed besides me though?"

Beck smacked his forehead with an open palm. "You, idiot. She almost killed you. She loves you. Killing you would be a problem, but you couldn't have cared less if she killed you. That bothers her. She cares and loves you more than anything else right now."

"Oh."

The TV continued playing while the two brothers bickered back and forth.

"You really are dunce."

Carson's more logical side snapped back into place again. "Wait. How would you even know?" He shifted in his seat, settling in. "It's not like she told you or anything."

"She didn't have to. Just like you didn't have to tell me."

"I don't love her. I just-" Carson shrugged. "I think it's a possibility."

Beck squinted. "Uh-huh. Okay." He nodded, and Carson could sense the sarcasm in the action. "Whatever you say, big bro." Beckley stood. "I'm going to make some popcorn. Have fun continuing to deny yourself."

In order to not give Beck the satisfaction of a silent agreement, Carson called out, "Don't call me 'bro'. It's weird."

#darling i did it for you #hero x villain #original series #hero x villain story #part 18 #long post

6 notes · View notes

friendlylocalwhumper · 4 years

Note

That latest drabble felt widely out of character for Emory and it honestly read like you just wanted to find a new way to hurt lux. The relationship they had was so good and realistic but this just felt like a stretch and honestly was just a bad thing to introduce to the storyline because it frankly doesn’t make any sense for Emory’s character. The writing is still excellent but you destroyed a character for some new angst.

thank you for sending this. seriously, i appreciate it. with all the asks i’ve been getting about this drabble, i needed a ridiculous one to let out all my frustration on.

first off, how i write emory is always in character. he is my character. the only things you know about him are what i’ve presented to you, a small fraction of his full characterization in my head. this is in character, always has been.

it read like i just wanted to find a way to hurt lux? um. yeah! i write whump. i created lux so he could be hurt. every single aspect of his universe, including emory, was made to hurt lux, or to highlight the consequences of how he’s been hurt, the trauma and painful recovery. emory was literally made to give me more opportunities to hurt lux.

and, really, you thought their relationship was realistic? that’s sweet. it’s been bothering me for months how unrealistic their relationship is. how bad lux is at communicating, how emory somehow knows exactly what he needs and how to help, as if he’s had a relationship with a severely traumatized guy before - which he hasn’t. i’ve made them very close, unrealistically intuitive and patient with each other. have you ever noticed how emory, at 22 years old, owns a house, and makes enough money to support the both of them, and somehow doesn’t work too many hours to pay full attention to lux and help him get up off the floor and stay awake to wake him from nightmares? yeah? i’ve noticed. it bugs me. as if i’m telling my readers that you have to be superhuman just to be a good partner to someone with trauma.

in fact, emory reads more like a caregiver than anything, like someone who provides money and food and a home and emotional support to someone who can’t function on their own, and that really sits wrong with me. i don’t want emory to be that for lux. but it’s kind of what i have to imply to get to write as much angsty comfort as i want to, you know?

emory isn’t perfect. anyone who’s ace and has been in a relationship with someone who isn’t, knows that what happened in my last drabble is possible. it’s horrible, and it shouldn’t happen, and it wasn’t lux’s fault in that drabble, but it’s plausible. likely, even. the fact that emory’s always understood and respected lux’s boundaries so well is unrealistic. so if you’re going to come at me talking about realism, my last drabble is the only realistic element i’ve ever put into the writing of lux and emory together.

i destroyed a character for some new angst, huh? that last sentence in your ask is sticking with me. i get that everyone hates emory now, and they don’t like lux and emory together anymore, and i’m a shit writer, blah blah blah. fine, no one likes the drabble, the arc, the implications for these characters and their relationship. if i destroyed emory as a character, then i guess that’s that, right? it’s over? nothing i ever write with them from now on while be good and enjoyable anymore, it’s ruined? i guess you want me to erase it somehow, to write that it was a nightmare, and lux will wake up gasping, and emory will hold him and say no curls, i would never do that to you, you’re safe here.

too bad. i’m not taking it back. it would feel disingenuous to paint over it and act like emory is a perfect angel who just understands lux instinctively, perfectly, at all times. i care about these characters, they’re layered, they’re flawed, they feel things deeply and break and heal wrong and seriously hurt each other sometimes. that goes for all of my characters. if you want to pretend that this drabble didn’t happen, then fine! pretend emory and lux are always happy: they never fight, they always get full and honest consent, they don’t get jealous or stressed out or petty.

all these asks where you guys are frustrated with me or with my characters, though? would you mind stopping? this is going in a direction that’s making me hate my own writing, my own characters. as if you guys came here for anything other than these characters in pain, afraid. the comfort’s great, yeah - but i’m not a comfort blog, am i?

#meta #discourse #honestly man #i've felt nauseous since i got the first response to the drabble #i was so proud when i finished it #you know that feeling when you finally get a good story idea written out?#and it was seven pages long and i was so pleased with myself #but no it's trash and my characters are trash and i ruined a good thing #now nooooobody can enjoy what should be sweet comfort content #i'm just so frustrated and sad and all these asks make me defensive #ugh there's no worse feeling than this #Anonymous

46 notes · View notes

readbeneaththelines · 4 years

Text

The Bough That Broke Pt. 13

Synopsis: Jin is injured from an avoidable accident, leaving him partially paralyzed from the waist down. Reader is the nurse that is hired to take care of him once he gets back to the dorms and begins the physically and emotionally painful road to recovery. Will she have what it takes to spark determination in him to get back on the stage?

Characters: Idol!Jin x Nurse!Reader

Genre: Whump, Angst, Itty Bittyamount of crack, itty bitty amount of fluff, maybeeeeeee some smut

Warnings: fluff, a hint of smut, much more to come, a teensy bit of angst/self doubt

Word Count: 1903

Lifting off his lap, you hooked your fingers under the waistband of his boxer briefs. You shimmied them down over his hips, his erection springing free from it’s confines. Even in the darkness of the room, you could sense a change in his demeanor. The air was suddenly thick with tension and reservation. You heard his sharp intake of breath and the long sigh that followed. Trying to reassure him, you cupped his face in your hands, whispering softly to not break the mood.

“This is completely up to you, Jin. We can stop any time you want, if you don’t feel like you are ready.”

“Thats not it.” He replied. “I want this so badly it killing me, but i don’t want to disappoint you. I want this to be as enjoyable for you as it is for me.”

“Jin. As long as it’s with you, that’s all that matters to me. We can take it slow together. Learn each others body. We don’t have t rush a thing.”

He pulled you close to him, his lips searching for yours in a connection that would put you both at ease. You made your way, not so nimbly, out of your panties. When you lowered yourself back down, you felt his full length nestle between your folds. You couldn’t help but shudder at the feeling of him beneath you, naked and soul bared before you. Shyness invaded your mind, your own fears of not being able to satisfy a lover.

Jin was now the one to assure you that you had nothing to fear. Reaching between your bodies, he found your clit, hid thumb slowly circling over it. Your head fell back, the electricity coursing already in your veins from his touch. Raising yourself on your knees, he lined the head up with your entrance. You lowered yourself down onto him, the stretch of your walls an almost foreign sensation. Your hands gripped his shoulders for support as he filled you to the hilt. Neither of you moved, allowing the moment to adjust to the way the other felt with this intimate connection you now shared.

When you began to roll your hips, his fingers dug harshly into your thighs, stilling your movement.

“Don’t move yet. If you do, I might not last long.”

Your head went forward, foreheads touching. You took a deep breath, your racing heart beating in your ears. After a few fleeting moments, his grip loosened, letting you know you could begin to move. With a gentle rocking of your hips, you felt your body stretch and close around him. His arms encircled you, chests touching, his own racing heart beating in rhythm with yours. Your pace was slow and passionate, putting all your feelings into making love to him.

This wan’t just a passing fling to you. You had never given yourself to someone so freely and fully. With him, you felt it. That one thing you hadn’t felt with your only other one lover. With Jin, you shared something very few others share. A common event, a common struggle. A fear that you had both felt, a determination to survive. If anything described soulmates, you two were the perfect example.

You could feel a coil tightening in your gut, tensing and ready to snap at any moment.

“I’m-I’m close.” You breathed out.

“Ride it out, baby. Hold on to me, I’ve got you.” He whispered in your ear. With a scream that was muffled by his mouth claiming yours in a heated and hungry kiss, you both came undone, your own orgasm spreading through every fiber of your being, every nerve ending sparking and buzzing. He filled you with his release, a low growl coming from somewhere deep within him.

You sat there, him still deep within you, riding your high until your heart found its slow steady beat once again. With you on top of him, he used his arms to push you both down in the bed, him holding you close as he laid with you on top of him. He let you gently roll to your side, his arms still around you. There were no words, only tender kisses and touches as you both fell asleep in each others arms.

You were roused by the sound of Jin’s soft voice talking to someone else in the room.

“I think I’m going to let her sleep.” he said to whoever it was.

“Are you going to tell her?”

Namjoon.

“I don’t know if she is ready to hear it.” Jin replied, a bit of doubt in his tone. You kept your eyes closed, worry edging its way into your thoughts.

Ready to hear what? That you were just a one night stand? That he didn’t really want to be with you?

You made a small purr, alerting Jin that you were waking up.

“Good morning sleepyhead. Why don’t you sleep in today. Jack is here for my therapy.” Jin cooed to you, confusing you even more to what he was talking about with Namjoon.

You nodded your head sleepily, thankful for the chance to sleep in, just a bit. But the nagging in the back of your mind, the what ifs, the doubt and fear. It would keep you awake. But , your eyes remained closed as he shuffled himself out of bed and into his chair.

In the main room, Jin joined Jack and the others. Namjoon sat on the couch while Jack did the usual stretches and exercises. Jin made some steps with his walker, Jack ever close beside him as he walked around the couch. An hour later, Jack bid his farewell, and Jin was seated on the couch next to Namjoon.

“So are you going to tell her or not?” Namjoon was very serious. The repercussions of what he and Jin talked about, heavy in his mind.

“Joon, I’m not even sure if I am going to do it or not. If I tell her, and then I don’t do it, then what would it be for?”

“She needs to know, hyung.”

“I need to know what?” Your voice echoed in the nearly empty space. Both heads turned to you.

You padded down the hallway, sitting next to Namjoon on the couch. Jin wheeled up in front of you. He placed his hands on your knees, leaning in you peck your cheek with a kiss. Still a bit confused, you let him kiss you then you leaned back to look at them both.

“So. What do I need to know? I heard you both talking earlier in the bedroom. If you have something to tell me, then go ahead. I am a big girl you know.”

Sensing the tension in the air, Namjoon looked at you, then jin, then rose from his seat and left the room. Now that you were alone, you stared at Jin.

“It’s nothing really, Y/N.” Jin stated simply.

“If last night was a one time thing, or if you aren’t really into me like that, please just let me know now.” You could feel the tears threatening to bust through the weak dam that was holding them back.

“What in the hell are you talking about? Last night was definitely not a one time thing. And.” he paused, his features softening as he leaned forward, both of his hands on either of your knees. “I am so into you. Did last night not show that?”

You felt your cheeks blush. Last night was magical, in the corniest meaning of word, but still.

“Then why won’t you tell me what you and Joon were talking about?”

“Because. I don’t know if it will even happen. But here it is. They are starting touring dates soon. I was debating on going with them. If I do, I will miss out on therapy, and maybe backtrack on my progress. But if I don’t, worry that I might have regrets. I’m leaning towards going.”

You sat back into the couch cushions. You knew that this group was his life, even if he couldn’t participate. If he stayed behind, then you knew he would regret it. You had to convince him to go, even if it meant you wouldn’t see him for some time.

“Go.” you stated abruptly. Jin stared into your eyes. Were you telling him to go?

“Just like that? Aren’t you afraid that all the work you have put into my therapy will go to waste?”

“I’ll go with you.” You covered your mouth quickly. Did you really just say that you would go with them? Would you? Of course you knew the answer to that question.

“Really? You would do that? If you went, then you could help me continue therapy. And we could spend more time together.” There goes that eyebrow wiggle that you have come to adore.

“Why not? You even said I need a break. I just don’t want it to appear that I am going just because I am hopelessly in love with someone going.” You entire face flushed at your admittance of your feelings towards Jin. A huge grin lit up his face. He joy he was feeling had him feeling a strange giddiness within him.

“Did you just admit you love me? Why Miss Y/N. I must say though, that the feeling is most mutual. Especially after last night.” He grabbed your arms and pulled you forward, planting a kiss to your half parted lips. Your hands gripped his wrists as you steadied yourself. It was only when you heard throats clearing, that you broke away.

“So we have to get an extra plane ticket, huh?” Jimin asked from behind Jungkook. His smile told you that he was all for the idea.

“Guess so Jimin-ssi. Let go order it now.” Jungkook wrapped Jimin in a headlock as he drug him away.

“It will be nice having you around. Our own personal nurse.” Hoseok chimed in as he plopped down beside you. Jin smacked his leg jokingly.

“She’s my personal nurse, thank you. She is also my girlfriend, so don’t get any ideas heartthrob.”

Your eyes widened when Jin called you his girlfriend.

“I’m? I’m your girlfriend?” you stuttered, to the amusement of both Jin and Hoseok.

“Woman, after last night, if I could make you more than my girlfriend, I would. But I’ll have to settle for girlfriend right now.”

“Jin’s got a girlfriend y’all!” Hoseok hollered through the dorms with that knowing smirk on his face.

“We will not live this down, will we?” You asked through your hands that covered your beet red face.

“No way in hell beautiful.” Jin took your hands from your face, tilting his head to look you in the eyes.

“I can’t wait till I can show you the kind of lover I want to be to you.” Kissing your nose, he took your hand and made you follow him to the bedroom.

“We need to get cleaned up for the day. We have a planning meeting later and I want you to attend since you’re going with us.” Jin threw some clothes on the bed, while you rummaged through your bag for a change of clothes. Once you had both showered, and got dressed, you headed out with them to the meeting. They used the excuse that you would need to be there in case something happened, just as a precaution. Of course they believed that, seeing that you had been his nurse for almost six months now. The more oblivious they were, the better. You then called your own work and told them the plans for your travel. Thankfully with the freedom your certain position held, you were given clearance without any problem. The only thing left was to get ready.

@beautifulseoulliar @astronomyturtle @aspaceformyself @dreamyoongi @holy-yoongi @trashkazuya @maxinaptak @micky1518 @rosiemilas @karri570 @jeontaes-world @mtgforall

@seoulsunshineandstories @kwonnansi @xjamlessparkx @berryjam17

@flora-jimin

#kim seokjin #BTS jin #jin angst #jin fluff #jin smut #jin x reader

22 notes · View notes

rangergirl3 · 5 years

Text

Okay, so I JUST saw Spiderman: Far From Home on Wednesday - and what a movie. So many excellent fight scenes. So many great performances! <3

I go into more detail below the cut, but the TL;DR version is this:

This movie, while excellent, deals with some stuff that I’ve experienced in my past. Can’t say more without possibly spoiling the movie. (Nothing R-rated).

Anyway, a lot’s been going on lately. I tend to get headaches from stress, and the last couple of days (after seeing FFH), I’ve had some pretty persistent ones. Flashbacks, too, and a few really bad dreams. Mostly just headaches, though. (Can I hear a Huzzah! for painkillers!)

The plus side to all this life transition is that I’m able to remind myself that neither of my parents are in my life anymore. And, if I’m ever starting to revert back to the freaked-out/scared/petrified mindset of when I was a kid, aka ‘Oh no they’re going to be so mad, what will they do to me?!’ I can at least quip:

“What are they gonna do, huh? Abandon me? Oooooh, right. That was last year.”

Painful, yeah. Evisceratingly awful at the time. Kind of my lowest point ever. But honestly? I’m way better off now. :D

I really am okay. Mostly through making wry comments/writing/spending time with friends/other assorted and quirky ways of processing stress.

Speaking of which...

Pardon me while I go write whump/angst/hurt/comfort to cope. :D

Spoilers from ‘Spiderman: Far From Home’ below the cut

Please understand, this is a good movie! A very very good one! They portrayed Mysterio wonderfully!

It’s just...guys, I grew up with a guy who was exactly like that. I called him Dad. He did all but physically eviscerate his kids, all in the name of what he ‘was called to do’. (He’s a total dick.)

That entire manipulation game? The way Mysterio absolutely played the part of what/who Peter needed/wanted so desperately? The cold-blooded, mocking, self-absorbed true self that came out when his plans were threatened?

Yep. That guy.

The way he made it look like Peter was the bad guy, and made it look so damn believable it’s impossible to know what’s going to happen next?

YES.

THAT GUY.

‘Far From Home’ is great, great movie! Fantastically done! :D

It’s just really difficult for me to enjoy a movie that does such a spot-on portrayal of a master manipulator, and the hero who feels so, so dumb for trusting them. True, Peter realizes his mistake, but oh, damn. The time before it is just so painful.

My mother complements my father well. Together they are completely toxic, manipulative, and the last people you want as parents.

The way the drones projected a fake monster, but still inflicted real and catastrophic damage? That was my life for over two decades. (That’s gaslighting. It’s a bitch.)

The beating that Peter takes from Mysterio’s drones that showcases all of Peter’s worst fears while leaving him with severe physical damage?

My parents had no qualms whatsoever about hitting, slapping, or otherwise physically beating me to make me do/say/think/believe what they wanted.

The way Mysterio just looks at Peter and says, completely geniuine, ‘For what it’s worth, I really am sorry.’ RIGHT. BEFORE. A TRAIN HITS PETER?

THAT.

THAT RIGHT THERE.

THAT IS WHAT TOXIC PARENTING IS. THAT IS WHAT MY PARENTS DID, AND STILL DO. EVERY. DAMN. DAY.

They consider someone who trusted them - completely - as an acceptable loss the second that person ‘gets in the way.’

That was my ‘normal’, and I was told/conditioned into believing it was all my fault. “If Only I were a Better Child, They Wouldn’t Have To Do This” If only I’d been better, maybe my parents could have loved me, despite all my many flaws. If only I’d done more, somehow, they might have been able to meet me half-way.

The truth is a lot more simple, but massively less complimentary to their egos.

If only they hadn’t chosen to be assholes, they just might have been able to improve their lives, and the lives of their kids. But let’s be honest.

“They had so much more important stuff to do.”

Like I said before, I still get headaches from stress, and the last couple of days, I’ve had some pretty persistent ones. Flashbacks, too, and a few really bad dreams. The plus side to this is that I’m able to remind myself that neither of my parents are in my life anymore. And, if I’m ever starting to revert back to the freaked-out/scared/petrified mindset of when I was a kid, aka ‘Oh no they’re going to be so mad, what will they do to me?!’ I can at least quip:

“What are they gonna do, huh? Abandon me? Oooooh, right. That was last year.”

I really try to keep focused on the good things in life, and I really am okay.

It just frustrates me that a perfectly good movie (well-made, fun, enjoyable, etc) can lead to me still having very unpleasant repercussions.

*goes off to edit/brainstorm/edit/maybe post some BTHB*

<3 <3 <3 <3

#rangergirl rambles #personal update #spiderman: far from home #far from home

10 notes · View notes

kinsbin · 5 years

Text

Rainy Day Relaxing

Title: Rainy Day Relaxing Ship: Makoto Naegi/Zach [Self Insert/Canon] Word Count: 3089 Summary: A rainy day at college brings Zach to Makoto’s dorm, where the two of them share a copious amount of cuddles, talks, and a lot of kisses. Sometimes the best moods are set in the worst weather

A/N: A commission for @softfuzzyships! Thank-you so much for commissioning me and I’m always happy to write you and makoto its SO CUTE AND GOOD.

College was less than an ideal place to experience depression.

The system, most would tell you, was a form of self-centered money mongering that provided incentive for education through the fear of student debt should you not be clever enough to truly earn a scholarship or full ride through your chosen class. Likewise, your majors would always seem to make or break your financial career. It was up to the student, those young adults, to take care of everything and anything for themselves in a world that posed the concept of open help but refused it without hours of appointments and the fees to pay it through. For independent people, who were neurotypical enough to handle all of this and still find time to go to the beach on the weekends in an effort to stay active, it was a lifestyle of constant stimulation and enjoyment. They thrived in their freedom and made sure to milk it for all that it was worth until the years of dorms and drinking were behind them and they settled into their cushioned, high paying job with the life and car they always wanted.

To those less than fortunate to receive the short end of the mental stability stick, well, college was certainly not what they had wanted it to be for themselves.

Zach took a deep breath as they stared out at the campus from under the very edge of the library building they had to use as shelter. The rain that patterned angrily down was unpleasant to say the least, but, the sound was beautiful either way. It echoed off of the concrete like a musical symphony, humming varieties of songs to their ears as they clutched their books between determined fingers and shrunk further into the hoodie they had on. It would be an unpleasant walk back to the dorm halfway across campus to say the least, and the pickings of overhanging building structures to use as in-between dry spots were few and far between. How annoying, they thought with a deep sigh, taking out their phone and idling through their contacts to see if they might escape having to go back alone.

Group chats with their required project-mates for some classes were empty, half-excuses made about having to do something important fading between lines in an unsurprising turn of events that made it hard for all of them to get said project done on time. A text from Nagito revealed that he had gone out with Hajime shopping and now the two were currently waiting out the worst of the storm uptown in a coffee shop, a frowny face accompanying the line of ‘we won’t be home for another few hours, sorry’.

A sigh echoed from their lips, the cold of the water beginning to soak into their bones. Zach scrolled through the list of contacts, squinting for a moment before finally finding the last of the names they had thought would be available to spend some time with them.

Makoto’s name was decorated with a few flower emojis, their bright petals causing the boy’s messages to pop out more than others. It helped Zach to differentiate the notes between each of their friends, at the very least, and they appreciate emojis for this reason and many others. Their fingers flew against the keys, the tapping of the touchpad echoing similarly to that of the rain cascading down the sides of the library building.

‘Hey, ur dorm is near the library right?’

Send.

Zach waited, eyes catching a glimpse of a couple walking past, sharing an umbrella and giggling. They shrunk back on the wall, averting their gaze as the paranoid thought of their discussion being about them threatened their inner monologue, but, was soon pushed away with a satisfying ‘ding’ to represent the arrival of a new message.

‘Yep! I’m there now, do u wanna come over?’

Zach smiled, their thumbs moving before their mind did.

‘Sure! I’m on my way.’

‘Awesome, see u soon! <3’

‘<3’

Makoto’s dorm building was the one most of the older college kids seemed to prefer, the area close enough to the library to provide ample book supplies for the thesis papers they were sure to need to write and the closeness to about five different coffee and campus store stops ensuring their never ending supply of coffee, red bull, and cheap ramen noodles. They had worked hard for that dorm location, most freshmen couldn’t fault them for that. The trip was a single small trek along the sides of the library towards the building and a quick run across an exposed parking lot to get into the safety of the dorm.

Zach trailed their way through the halls, locating the room they had known to be Makoto’s, and knocked once. Twice...Three times on the wooden frame. The familiar, arid voice of Makoto calling out for just a moment filled their stomach with butterflies, their face heating up even as they heard the latch unlock behind the door. When it swung open to reveal Makoto, comfortable in a pair of pajama pants and an all-too adorable shirt with a bear on it, Zach felt like their heart was going to jump out of their stomach. The way his hair had been mussed up, clearly from moments of laying on his bed and simply not brushing it that day, made them want to reach out and smooth it gently down. To brush it out of the other’s face and press a kiss to the forehead that was revealed to them.

“Zach, hey!” Makoto’s smile was easy on his lips as he side stepped to let the other in, “You’re really soaked, huh?”

“Yeah,” Zach laughed as they shrugged their backpack and jacket off with a deep sigh, “The rain came out of nowhere...Uh, sorry if I woke you up or anything. I didn’t mean to just-”

“What? Oh, no no-!” Makoto blushed and held up one hand, the other reaching back to rub at his neck with a sheepish grin, “I didn’t have classes today, so, I just didn’t bother changing out of my pajamas or anything.”

As if emphasizing his laziness, Makoto yawned and stretched, part of his shirt riding up as his arms lifted the material, showing the pale and soft skin of his stomach. Zach blushed at the sight, a smile forming on their lips as they chuckled and watched while Makoto fell backwards on his bed once they had both arrived in the room. Rolling over, the boy made room for their partner on the sheets, patting the area with a tired smile.

“Sit down with me.”

“What? No its fine I can-”

“Zach,” Makoto sat up a little, hand outstretched with a patient look on his face, “Come on, you need it. I can tell.”

He could always tell. It seemed to be an ability Makoto had, though for what reason Zach couldn’t answer. It hung like a third eye in the front of his brain, a constant warmth radiating like sun across his smiling face as he waiting patiently for the other to join hands with him. Zach did, eventually, fingers reaching out to touch at Makoto’s own with a slow hesitance. Makoto’s fingers were warmer compared to Zach’s, kept warm by the inside heater and blankets he had been piled under while they were out in the rain running in hopes of getting less wet than they already were. Wet...that was what Zach was worried about. They were wet and cold. They would ruin the other’s bed if they agreed.

But it was too late, Makoto had already dragged them into bed with him. Zach felt their side hit the mattress with a solid whump of pressure, the suddenness of the fall making them yelp in shock as they landed. Makoto’s laugh bubbled up against their side, a beacon of light in the white noise of stress. Zach re-adjusted themselves, smiling awkwardly back as a chuckle of their own hiccuped against their mouth. The feeling of the stress that had permeated their existence since college had started began to dissipate as Makoto moved them both around, adjusting so that their bodies pressed against one another, legs entwining atop the warm covers. Zach felt their hands move on their own, fingers running along Makoto’s waist, gripping it close. In return, Makoto’s hands went to their back, dragging his fingers down their clothed spine and causing a shiver to rake itself down their spine.

“You’re so stressed,” Makoto groaned at the other in his bed with a wry smile on his lips as he let his fingers trail against the other’s back, “Any more and you’ll just turn to stone with it all.”

“Hell yeah,” Zach mumbled as they pressed their face into Makoto’s warm collar, their eyes shutting as the feeling of their boyfriend caressing their body enhanced their muscles unwinding, “Life as a statue sounds better than finals at this point, so, just make sure I get turned in a great pose.”

Makoto laughed again, giving a gentle tug to Zach’s hair before burying his whole face in it.

The two sat like that for a while, bodies entwined against each other. There was no noise except the patterning of the rain on the windows just overhead, the sound almost romantic as it played in the backdrop of their shared time. Soft words were whispered, usually sweet nonsense to one another or thoughts they both had but couldn’t be bothered to allow serious conversation for. Jokes spoke offered chuffs of laughter. They paused to listen to the sound of others yelling from the outside as they ran through the rain. Zach felt life fade away around them, a cloud of comfort overwhelming their senses with feelings of warm. Feelings of safety as their fingers found the soft skin underneath Makoto’s shirt, touching it with teasing grip after grip.

Makoto wiggled underneath the touch. Zach could feel him draw a deep, unexpected breath. Their eyes opened up, looking down at the soft, exposed collar bone before them as a wicked idea formed carefully in the base of their mind. They tried their best to hide their grin as they sighed almost dramatically, fingers touching and pawing at the other’s sides before sliding up further and further. Each inch made Makoto squirm underneath them, the boy’s fingers clutching tighter and tighter at the other’s body with every movement. Zach couldn’t help the chuckle that broke their lips, Makoto whining as he too bit back a smile.

“Zaach,” Makoto whined from over them, “What the fu-hhh-ck do you think you’re doing?”

It was said teasingly, but interrupted when Zach’s lips found the other’s soft skin. They began kissing their way around the other’s neck, lips tracing the veins they could see and knew were there.

“Kissing you.” Was the simple answer, smile wry as Makoto’s breath indicated he had huffed about the words returned.

“You-You know what I mean.”

They did, but, they didn’t quite respond. Instead they took their time to continue kissing Makoto’s exposed neck, biting in spots against the collar bone that they knew would make him squirm. He squirmed and more, gasping in shock and then letting out adorable little whines as Zach let their tongue run along the marks they had just made to sooth them. Their hands pulled Makoto close, their own breath picking up as their mouthing became more and more desperate, more and more needy.

Fingers came around to tug at the fabric of Zach’s shirt, moving it back and forth with a desperate attempt to convey something. Worry blossomed in the other’s heart as they pulled away, eyebrows knit together with worry. Makoto’s face was warm, reddened with shock and intensity. It was an adorable look on him, for sure, but less adorable when Zach wasn’t sure of the intentions of making them separate. Had they done something wrong? Was this the wrong time? The thoughts blossomed like worry across their face.

“Uh,” Zach tried to find their voice, “Did I do….something wrong or…?”

“No!” Makoto yelled a little too fast, biting his lip before shaking his head, “No...No it wasn’t that it’s more...I wanted to do this before we got too far.”

After saying this, Makoto reached out with a hand, touching Zach’s cheek. Zach leaned into the touch without thinking about it, breathing out with the comfort that the gentle graze provided. Makoto brought his hand forward and, with it, Zach’s face. Zach followed, curious but confused, until their lips met in a gentle lock. The kiss was soft, Makoto’s lips neither dry nor chapped as they moved against their own pair that felt almost inadequate in comparison. If it was an issue, though, Makoto showed no signs of it, for he poured himself into the kiss that was brought forward with the utmost affection. Eyes shut, he worked his lips with Zach’s until one of them, it was hard to remember who, found the courage to part their lips and allow the other’s tongue into it.

The makeout turned messy fast, drool pooling between lips and leaking out slightly as Zach adjusted themselves so that they hovered over Makoto, arms on either side of him. Parting left a gentle string of drool connecting their lips together, each of their faces flushed with a delightful redness that emphasized both their love and skin tones all at once.

“I just...wanted to kiss you properly first is all, you know?”

They averted their eyes together, the position almost too much as it spoke of something insinuated and initiated all at the same time.

“Do you…” Zach’s voice was soft, “Want to do anything more than kiss?”

Makoto laughed the nervous, gentle laugh he always did when he was unsure of something. Zach had a fond memory of the first time they had met one another in class, their study group asking questions to which Makoto answered almost easily, math coming to him in a way it didn’t to anyone else in the conglomerate. Despite the answer being right, though, Makoto had been unsure. The laugh he had echoed was soft as he rubbed the back of his head with a nervous unsureness that was fresh in his movements. It was the same laugh as this one. Zach could only hallmark it into the files of the many reasons they loved the man beneath them.

“Depends...on what ‘more than kiss’ is?” Were Makoto’s words, eyebrow raised with a curious challenge.

Zach laughed, leaning down to kiss him again, their lips gentle in their efforts to ease the mood they had both created. “Well,” Zach laughed, “I mean kissing is great too yeah? There’s a lot of spots to kiss? LIke your lips...And your cheeks…”

Their kisses trailed to either cheek, the pecks they placed on them making Makoto chuff out a laugh before they dared to allow their lips lower, lower, lower still….

“Your neck…”

A kiss to his neck.

“Your collar…”

A kiss to the collar bone, each one being peppered and then teasingly bitten with teeth grazing a little to low to be considered kind. Makoto’s body shuddered as Zach felt his hands clutch on their arms, tight in the hopes that it might relieve some of the tension building up between their bodies.

“Your shoulders...and your chest.”

A kiss on the left. A kiss on the right. Lips like fire trailed down to his chest, where Zach found the courage to tug down the already low-rested collar of Makoto’s shirt and press a kiss into the center of his pectoral muscles, tongue flicking out to lick at the skin and causing Makoto to gasp. Fingers found the bed, curling as he bit back a laugh but failed, spluttering out a chortle that made one build up in Zach’s stomach as well.

“I was trying to be hot!” Zach argued as they removed their lips from the other, a grin managing to meander its way across their face. Makoto was wheezing now, face redder still with the laughing and the ticklish area Zach had inadvertently found.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Makoto apologized, “I wasn’t ready for that!”

Zach collapsed now onto him, their bodies colliding into a pile of warm, bubbly laughter thAt matched the growing pattern of the rain on the shared rooftop above them. Thunder growled somewhere far in the distance of their room, but, it wasn’t able to be heard over their joy. Zach rested their head on top of Makoto’s chest, listening to his heart beat and trying to time their breathing so that it occurred simultaneously.

Makoto’s hand found its way to Zach’s hair in return, fingers braiding through the strands that it could reach, rubbing circles with the pads of his fingers on the other’s scalp. The massage relieved a pressure that Zach didn’t even know was there, eyes fluttering shut as they relished in the gentle movements of their partner. They took a large breath of air, releasing it with a gentle sigh as they hugged Makoto close again.

“Still want to try ‘more than just kissing’?” Zach wondered curiously, the brief worry that they had, somehow, ruined the moment that wasn’t even quite there to begin with. Makoto smiled down, closing his eyes with a hum.

“Yeah, but, in a bit,” Was the response, warm and patient,”I just...kind of like being like this with you, you know? Calm and...relaxed and stuff...It’s hard enough to get up on rainy days...I like to make sure we’re both okay first.”

“You don’t have to make sure I’m okay…” the mumble echoed from Zach’s lips before they could stop it.

“Of course I do,” Makoto rebutted without missing a beat, “I love you...after all…”

Zach looked up, Makoto’s eyes warm as the both of them stared on at one another. Blushes heated their faces for a third time that night, but, this time they smiled at each other. Leaning forward, they shared one more kiss before wrapping themselves up in the warmth of one another’s body.

College was stressful, that was certain...but...At the very least, they had rainy days with one another to make up for it.

#self shipping #self insert #self ship #writing commissions #dangan ronpa self insert #drsi #makoto naegi/oc #kinley writes

6 notes · View notes

broken-clover · 5 years

Text

12 Days of Whump- Pneumonia

It seems that long fics will be common during this, I am not gonna complain about that! I’m fine with it either way, as long as someone is able to enjoy them. This was one of my favorite prompts! Also, apologies in advance for the silly parodies and references. I tried to do something fluffier today.

Day 2 of the 12 Days of Whump- Pneumonia, with Noel/Makoto/Tsubaki!

One of the problems of being a warrior and soldier, was that the scope of one’s worldview grew incredibly large. Tsubaki Yayoi knew the sorts of matters that she was responsible for, both serving as an agent of the NOL and as the carrier of Izayoi. No matter how much rested on her shoulders, though, and how much she was relied upon, she was still ultimately just a human, fallible and mortal as any other.

...In hindsight, maybe that sounded a bit too dramatic. Even as annoying as it was to get sick, it wasn’t like she was dying or anything. Though it did feel like it, sometimes.

Tsubaki made a little raspy groan under the blankets, fumbling for the box of tissues on the coffee table. She hadn’t been coughing up as much phlegm as before, but the fever hadn’t gone down, her head still ached, and she was in no mood to do much aside from staying on the couch.

It might have been nice to have a day off, if she didn’t feel like absolute hell. It was difficult to find any sort of enjoyment when she had to cough every thirty seconds and frequently rub at her temples to try and make it hurt less. She’d intended to catch up on work, but with the little energy had, all Tsubaki had been able to manage outside of coughing and fumbling for more water was to put on one of the historical dramas that she’d been waiting to watch. It would up being remarkably dull and uninteresting despite her usual love of them.

Makoto and Noel had been gone all day. Tsubaki hadn’t heard anything from them aside from a quick call asking about her opinions on green tea, of all things. She definitely didn’t want to get her friends sick, but maybe it would have been nice to have someone to talk to.

The more she watched the film, the less focused she felt. Even if it was interesting, she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to follow the plot with her frequent breaks. She was distantly aware that she needed to empty the trash, but all she wanted to do was stew about in the hopes that everything would stop aching so much.

Out of nowhere, a hard knock on the door sent another pulse of pain through her head. Tsubaki shoved her head under the pillow and blankets and groaned.

“C-come in.” She spoke as loudly as she could manage. The door is unlocked.”

“Geez, Tsubaki, can’t even bother to- oh man, you really are sick, huh?”

The familiar voice was enough to make Tsubaki sit up and poke her head out of the blankets. “Makoto?”

Her memory wasn’t wrong, and her mind wasn’t deceiving her. Both Makoto and Noel were standing in her doorway, each carrying bags with them. Tsubaki was too confused by their presence to say anything as they continued to let themselves in and close the door.

“Hi, Tsubaki!” Noel offered a polite wave. “We heard you weren’t feeling well, so we thought we’d come by and make sure you were doing okay.”

They’d come for a visit? The soldier was positively touched. The fuzzy feeling lasted for only a moment, though, until she reeled back against the couch’s arm. “Y-you guys can’t be here! I’ll get you sick!”

Noel shook her head. “It’ll be fine. I promise. Beastkin don’t get illnesses as easily as humans do. And I can’t, either! I’m not…”

The end of that sentence hung heavily in the room. ‘Like you.’ ‘Human.’ ‘Real.’

“Well, might as well put it to use then!” Makoto cut through the tension without a hint of shame, shoving aside the empty mugs and tissues boxes and dumping out her bag all over the coffee table. “We brought everything you might need so you don’t get bored or drop dead on us!”

Based on the pile made on the table, Makoto had gotten a bit too excited again. Tsubaki couldn’t bring herself to be too mad. It was just in her nature, and that sort of enthusiasm was one of the things that she loved about the squirrel-girl. There was a thorough mix of items, from tea packets to board games, DVD’s and extra pillows.

While Makoto dug through the mess on the table, Tsubaki felt a hand on her forehead. She turned to find Noel looking her over.

“So how are you feeling? I know you’ve been wheezing for the past couple of days. They didn’t tell us what exactly was wrong, but it sounded bad.”

“Pneumonia. It’s really not that bad.” If it wasn’t troublesome enough to speak with her raw, phlegmy throat, now she had to deal with the heated blush that have overtaken her face. Noel’s hands felt far softer than a soldier’s should have, with only the faintest traces of calluses from where her fingers gripped Bolverk’s triggers.

“It sounds bad. It’s okay to say you’re not feeling well, Tsubaki.” Tsubaki felt the hand on her forehead slide down to cup her cheek, and Noel leaned in to leave a little kiss on her nose. “The three of us are partners, and partners take care of each other!”

“Haha! Better step back, Noel, I think you’re making the fever worse!”

“Ah- oh no!” She immediately pulled away, going an equally-strong shade of crimson. “I’m so so sorry, Makoto’s right! I didn’t mean to-”

“Relaaax, Noel. Nobody’s dying.” Makoto tossed a hand around the girl’s shoulder, pecking her on the cheek. “Right?”

Though she felt warm, and thoroughly embarrassed, Tsubaki still managed a laugh as she reached for the tissues again. “I’ve got too much unfinished paperwork to do for me to be able to die.”

“Really? That’s what keeps you going? Rude.” Crossing her arms in a display of feigned hurt, Makoto turned away and huffed. Doing so let her take a glimpse of the still-running drama that had gone ignored. “Maaan, another history movie? How many films do they have to make about the Dark War?”

“It says they managed to get an in-person interview with Valkenhayn R. Hellsing, is that true?” Noel looked over the back of the disc box.

“They did, though the rest of this isn’t particularly interesting. It’s really disappointing, it looked promising when I bought it…”

“Well, duh, no wonder you feel so bleh! How can you possibly feel any better when watching this doomy-gloomy stuff?” In a flash, Makoto was digging through her pile. “Hold on, I brought some really good ones! I know I had a copy of the Darkstalkers cartoon in here somewhere…”

“Um, I brought some stuff my parents sent me from home.” Noel slung off her backpack briefly, pulling out a homemade quilt. “I figure if you’ve been using the same blankets for a while, they’re gonna get icky. You can use this one while I toss yours in the laundry, okay?”

The two of them had really thought it all through, hadn’t they? “If it isn’t too much trouble, Noel…”

“Not at all!” She smiled, pulling the old blanket off of Tsubaki and handing her the clean one. “Back in a sec!”

Meanwhile, Makoto was still digging. “Didn’t find the DVD, but I did find some snacks! What’cha hungry for? Tea? Granola? Gummy fish?”

Just the thought of tea makes her throat hurt less. “Tea, please. Tea sounds good.”

“No problemo! Lemme see, I’ve got raspberry, green, oolong…”

Noel appeared on the far side of the couch. “I’ll move your blanket into the dryer in about half an hour.”

“Oh yeah, Noel brought her own thing! Didn’t you, Noel?”

She blushed in embarrassment, lacing her fingers together and averting her eyes. “I-it’s kinda dumb, it’s totally okay if you don’t want to-”

Noel let out a panicked squeak as Makoto shoved her hand right into the backpack she was wearing, digging around for a big and pulling out a different box. A pair of men were trading blows with their swords on the cover, surrounded by chains and fire.

“She got a copy of Guilty Gear: Nocturne! Wanna watch?”

“‘Nocturne?’” Tsubaki still managed to sound confused through the congestion. “Haven’t heard of that installment.”

“I-it’s a cartoon adaptation.” Noel explained, still thoroughly red-faced. “I bought it online-”

“It is sooo bad, Tsubaki, you’re gonna love it.” Makoto butted in, eyes already sparkling with mischief. “And the animation is ridiculous. But Ky’s in it, obviously, and I know he’s your favorite!”

She usually preferred to leave the more silly shows to her partners, but truthfully, with how poorly she felt, Tsubaki thought that a dumb, ridiculous cartoon would be more suitable that something where she actually had to focus and think.

“That actually sounds rather nice, Makoto. Would you mind putting it on?”

“Aw yeah, we are in business, ladies!” Makoto pumped her fist in the air, almost immediately rushing off to pop out the war drama and shove Noel’s disc in. Meanwhile, Noel went off to go start a pot of tea at Makoto’s orders, along with a batch of popcorn that was probably more for Makoto herself than for anyone else.

Before she knew it, Tsubaki found herself sandwiched between her two girlfriends, sipping a cup of green tea and taking little nibbles of granola. Makoto was right, the animation was awful.

“Oh-ho-hooo my god!” The squirrel-girl cackled, scarfing down a handful of popcorn. “Sol looks completely lopsided! And I think he’s cross-eyed!”

Noel herself even managed a groan. “They messed up Potemkin’s character so badly in this. Why’s he so mean? Even Eddie isn’t this awful!”

“I’m amazed they even allowed this to be sold. It’s ridiculous.” Even if it was temporary, Tsubaki still felt a bit better, spending time with her favorite people and just being together.

“Ugh, cliffhanger!!” Makoto scowled and reached for the remote control. A half-second before she pressed it, she side-eyed her companions. “Anyone up for the next episode?”

“Mmhm!”

“Absolutely.”

“Say no more, then!”

#Blazblue #Noel Vermillion #Makoto Nanaya #tsubaki yayoi #sickfic #12 Days of Whump #writing

7 notes · View notes

sparxwrites · 7 years

Note

i think u have a point abt kinks being only one step sideways from vanilla stuff, but what about the heavier/violent stuff? im trying to think of where it might come from and my only idea is maybe a dark fascination with what our imaginations are capable of. i remember being younger and fascinated with writing violent things just because i was surprised my imagination served. you're certainly more experienced with dark stuff than i am, though. what do you think?

tw for frank discussions of violence and sex, sometimes the intersection between the two, and a whole variety of sometimes very extreme kinks

Okay, that’s a tricky one. And not something that has a single answer, either – I’ve talked to a lot of people about what they see in darker fiction, and honestly every single person has had a slightly different perspective on it (one person, entertainingly enough, just shrugged and said they liked the aesthetic). But there do seem to be some common threads, and I’ll see if I can… if not provide answers, then at least provide food for thought and maybe lay out the groundwork for an interesting discussion.

(The rest is under a cut because, me being me, I got a little carried away, and this turned out to be something of an essay, and a compilation of thoughts I’ve had for a while now and conversations I’ve had with others. Whoops.)

The first thing is, I think, defining whether we’re talking about heavier/violent stuff in a consensual (either fictional or non-fictional) context – ie. heavy impact play, bloodplay, needleplay, consensual nonconsent, humiliation and degradation, what I’d call BDSM in a broad context – or a non-consensual, fictional context – ie. fiction involving rape, torture, severe bodily harm, gore, what I’d call whump and darkfic.

(I’m not talking about non-consensual non-fictional contexts, on the basis those are a) pretty much illegal, and b) even people I’ve talked to who enjoy really dark non-consensual fictional stuff are usually deeply upset or even disturbed by the thought of the same stuff in a non-fictional context. I can talk about the psychology of someone who wants their fave fictional character being beaten bloody, but wanting that to happen to an actual person is… a little beyond me. It’s not something I’ve talked to people about, and something I personally feel deeply uncomfortable thinking about outside the context of a consensual BDSM scene.)

Another thing is to define whether we’re talking about sexualised “stuff” or nonsexualised “stuff”. The consensual things are almost always sexualised, fictional or not (though very occasionally you might come across depictions BDSM that are entirely free of sex). Fictional depictions of non-consensual things are also sometimes sexualised – noncon fanfic (which is, by definition, sexualised, since noncon vs. rape was fandom-historically used to differentiate between sexualised and nonsexualised non-consent) is the most obvious example. Most fictional depictions of non-consensual violence, though, are things like torture, sickfic (not exactly violence, but it falls under the general “people in pain when they don’t want to be”), hurt/comfort, and whump, which generally aren’t explicitly sexualised.

We also need to work out whether people’s responses to these various categories are erotic or not. Are people actively getting off to them? Passively aroused by them, but not getting off? Are people reading them because they want to be aroused, or is that a (possibly irrelevant?) side effect? Are they getting something other than arousal from them?

With sexualised stuff, this is pretty easy – people pretty much always have erotic responses to sexualised stuff, that’s what it’s designed for. It’s written with the intent to arouse, that’s why it’s classed as “sexualised”.

But with non-sexualised stuff, such as whump, or hurt/comfort, or torture porn, it’s a lot more complicated. Some people have erotic responses, but a lot of people don’t, or only sometimes have erotic responses. Many seem to struggle to even answer any of the above questions – the difference between erotic responses, other powerful emotional or physical responses, can sometimes be blurry and difficult to define.

I and other people I’ve talked to about this, though, seem to get strong “stomach feelings” when reading good whump. They sound similar to arousal but are different somehow. Variously, I’ve had people talk about things like an emptiness just under their ribcage, a heaviness in their stomach, a lurch in their stomach, “like someone’s tucked a hook behind my stomach and pulled”, lightning through their abdomen, shortness of breath / panting, tightness, hollowness, an ache…

There’s definitely similarities to sexual feelings there, but people usually seem pretty insistent that it’s not exactly the same – even though it does feel good, and it’s a sensation they actively try to find more of by seeking out fiction that generates it – since they only get it from fictional depictions of violence or pain. Trying to find language for intense, pleasurable physical sensations that aren’t sexual is incredibly hard, but non-sexual or only partially sexual physical pleasure seems to be an integral to a lot of people’s enjoyment of fictional violence.

(Case in point: like you, I also remember being younger (we’re talking like… starting from about six or seven, here, really young) and daydreaming about either my favourite characters, or myself / thinly-veiled self-inserts, being hurt to help me get to sleep. Like, properly broken bones and blood and screaming kind of hurt. It took me until maybe a few years ago to realise these were not the kinds of things “normal” people daydreamed about for fun, so I certainly wasn’t doing it out of surprise at what my brain could come up with, and it definitely wasn’t a sexual thing. I just liked it. Lots of other people I’ve talked to have similar stories of enjoying fictional depictions of violence, and daydreaming or thinking about them for enjoyment, from a young age and well before they had any kind of sexual awakening.)

In some ways, I think the sexualised stuff is easier to analyse, since that’s mostly about sex (by the sheer merit of being a consensual scene or a sexualised non-consensual fantasy, it’s designed to be jerked off to). So, let’s have a look at some of the feelings and desires based around that kind of thing first.

The fact that people get off on power and control, or lack thereof, and vulnerability, is just sort of… a fact. And almost all fetishes eventually come down to that power versus no-power dynamic, even the really weird, “scary” ones – I’ve talked to people about hard vore and rape fantasies and execution kink, and they’ve all talked about how it’s about Dom/sub roles, about the submission of the “victim” to their fate, about the power held over them by the predator / attacker / executioner.

On the basis I have notes from the conversation I had about execution kink, let’s look at that one (I told you, I really like learning about this stuff). On the surface, getting off to fictional depictions of people being executed seems very, very heavy, but… the person I discussed this with talked about liking the aspects of the person being bound and handcuffed pre-execution (bondage), about being tried and sentenced and paraded around in front of a crowd and feeling scared and embarrassed (humiliation), about the ritualised aspect of it (rituals of various kinds are common in the BDSM community, from collaring ceremonies to body modification rituals). They talked about the historical pressure for the condemned to submit to their fate, “put on a good show”, pay their executioner (submission). They talked about necks and breathplay, and the condemned’s feet twitching (foot fetish), and the “death erections” people sometimes get (involuntary arousal) with regards to hanging, specifically.

So that’s, y’know, something really big and dark that I think a lot of people would kind of instinctively rear back from, that’s actually just a lot of smaller, very “reasonable” kinks being combined into one thing. If someone says, “Hey, I’m into necks, breathplay, bondage, humiliation, Dom/sub stuff, and feet,” you might think that’s a lot of kinks or be squicked by some of them, but you won’t necessarily think they had “dark” tastes. Turns out, that’s also all the basic components people who like fictional depictions of executions and hangings seem to enjoy. Weird, huh?

On a similar but slightly different note, some things I’ve heard from a lot of people who enjoy noncon or dubcon are that, a) contrary to the popular opinion of “people who like noncon are stealth rapists”, they tend to imagine themselves in the victim’s position rather than the attacker’s, and b) there’s a strong element of “I feel ashamed by / scared of / nervous about the prospect of sex, and having to admit I want sex, and the negotiation and intimacy and emotions that come with that – but also I want sex. Therefore, in fiction, the idea of having sex forced upon me, or being drugged/intoxicated or manipulated to the point I am not responsible for having sex, is powerfully appealing”.

Essentially, a large part of the appeal of rape fantasies seems to come from the prospect of being able to have sex whilst maintaining you definitely don’t want sex – which, in a culture that constantly talks about sex and encourages sex and pushes images of sex, whilst also telling people (specifically women and afab people, and some other marginalised groups such as disabled individuals) that they shouldn’t have or even want sex, makes sense. In a rape fantasy, you can have as much sex as you like, and it’s not your fault (and therefore you’re not an awful, sex-hungry monster), because you didn’t ask for or consent to it.

Obviously, people don’t actually want to be raped and would be deeply upset if their fantasies actually happened irl, but in the privacy of their own heads it’s a useful “tool” of sorts to circumvent feelings of shame attached to sex. Also, hey! Conveniently plays into the whole submission thing a lot of people have, often conveniently plays into stuff like breathplay, bondage, bruises and slapping, humiliation, maybe age difference or size difference or group sex… Again, big scary fantasy, really not particularly scary once you break it down into lil bite-sized chunks.

(Not all people have rape fantasies for this reason, though it’s a very common one. For some people, the “actually wanting it, deep down” thing is actually a turn-off, given they’re attracted to the vulnerability and control aspects of it. For some people, they enjoy “actually wanting it” in depictions of sexualised assault, where there’s an element of ravishment to it, but dislike it in non-sexualised depictions of assault, where the appeal is the character’s vulnerability, or the control the rapist has over them, or the negative emotions and physical pain involved with it. Fantasies are complicated, and even people with very, very similar fantasies may be getting completely different things out of them.)

There’s also the taboo aspect of these kinks and other things like them, which is a powerful draw. Humans like breaking rules (or at least, breaking rules in the privacy of their own heads) for some reason – it gives them a bit of a rush, makes them feel good. Humans also just seem to fundamentally really like power dynamics, and as a result they’ve found a lot of really interesting ways to tie it into sex (with various additions for flavour).

(You’ll notice how I say “in fiction” or “in their own heads” or “in fantasies” – because, surprise surprise, a lot of people with darker sexual fantasies don’t want those things to ever happen. Fantasies are often not remotely an indication of what you actually want, irl, sexually. You can have a reoccurring, incredibly powerful fantasy that gets you off like a rocket every goddamn time, and also be kind of sick thinking about it happening irl. That’s perfectly normal, and perfectly fine – and, in the case of things like rape and executions, probably pretty good, because it indicates you’ve got a working conscience.)

With outright kinky stuff, too, I think there’s a habituation aspect to it – you can be kind of trained to find something erotic by having it presented alongside more conventionally erotic stimuli often enough, or even just coming across something that presents it as strongly erotic. A lot of people tell me they didn’t realise they had a certain kink until they read something I wrote with it, and I really suspect that’s because I kind of… think about the building blocks of what makes a particular fetish appealing, and emphasise them in a way that appeals to even people without the fetish. You can definitely coax other people into liking something with a “convincing” enough “argument”, or train yourself into liking something by associating it with pleasure. This, I think, though, is probably less common for violent and dark things than it is for stuff like, say… foot fetishes or leather kink, more every-day objects of fixation that it’s easier to accidentally associate with pleasure.

For less sexualised violent and dark fiction, such as whump and hurt/comfort, though, understanding why people like it becomes a little more difficult and murky. It’s not directly about sex, and people don’t seem to view it as inherently sexual or have inherently sexual responses to it, but do seem to get some kind of pleasure from it. Sometimes that pleasure is sexual, sometimes it’s not, mostly it seems to be a very confusing mix of the two. I suspect that mix has a lot to do with people who like whump also liking analogous, explicitly kinky and sexual things, and sort of… not signals getting crossed, exactly, but something similar.

It doesn’t help that a lot of the language of sex is also the language of pain – squirm, gasp, groan, moan, writhe, shudder, clench, too much, please, god, fuck, kicking feet and sweat and wide eyes and dilated pupils and hearts thumping in chests. Unsurprisingly, a lot of the language of pain is also the language of submission – begging and cowering, vulnerability, reliance on others, bending to another’s will, weak and small and shaking. Even when torture or pain isn’t deliberately being written as erotic, the language of sex and power (and a variety of other fetishes besides) is still there, and both brains and bodies will still respond to that.

Oddly enough, if they’re written similarly, your arousal probably doesn’t care much whether that fictional character being choked consented to it or not, or whether it was supposed to be sexual or not – their eyelids are still fluttering, their breath is still coming in short pants and hitching wheezes, they can still see the darkness creeping in at the edges of their vision and hear the blood rushing in their own ears, and they’re still going to have a collar of bruises blooming dark around their neck come tomorrow morning. The only difference between a Dominant and their submissive, and a torturer and their victim, is consent, and in fictional fantasies that can be a very blurry line when it comes to people’s weird, unreliable sex brains that just want that sweet, sweet power differential.

(As a side note, it’d be interesting to see what the correlation between “likes whump” and “likes various whump-like aspects of BDSM” is, and also what roles people tend to imagine themselves in when they read whumpfic versus how dominant or submissive they consider themselves. The general consensus by people who object to violent fic seems to be that everyone who enjoys it sees themselves in the aggressor’s position, because they’re “secretly abusers”, but… my personal experience is that people usually seem to imagine themselves in either the position of the whumpee, or the caregiver (the person getting hurt, or the person looking after the hurt person, respectively, for those not familiar with the terms).

A lot of very violent and dark stuff tends to be vicariously enjoyed from the perspective of the “submissive” party, it seems. And when someone vicariously enjoys it from the perspective the dominant party, even people used to existing in these darker spaces tend to get worried. I’ve had friends who’ve bumped into stuff like this outside of fandom spaces mention how they feel deeply unsafe around the people there (usually men) who enjoy taking on the role as the aggressor and also seem very into the idea of this stuff actually happening. So, even in dark kinky spaces, there’s a distinction between “safe” and “unsafe” people who are into stuff, based around perceived willingness to enact non-consensual violence irl.)

I think, though, the most powerful non-sexual motivators for liking non-sexualised violence in fiction are emotional venting and catharsis. Darkfic allows us to explore a range of very powerful emotions – sadism, cruelty, twisted pleasure, and anger on the behalf of the person doing the hurting, and pain, misery, fear, horror, desperation, and grief on behalf of the person being hurt – in a safe, controlled environment where we can say stop at any point. In real life, these emotions are powerful, and scary, and can be overwhelming, and in a way confronting them in fiction can be a good way of practicing for feeling them irl.

However, in the same way intense physical sensation can be good regardless of whether it’s pleasurable or not, intense emotions can be good regardless of whether they’re positive or not.

Sometimes, especially for people who are hurting, it can almost be better if they’re not good. If you’re hurting emotionally, sometimes it’s easy to translate that into physical pain in fiction, to match the way you feel like you’re screaming inside to the way some fictional character actually is screaming. If you’re angry, sometimes it feels good and cleansing to write about a fictional character getting torn to fucking shreds, in much the same way it feels good to punch a pillow and scream until your throat’s raw. There’s a lovely post about finding fiction that “matches the shredder noise in your head”, and although I disagree a little with the implication that only unhappy people like whump, and that you inevitably grow out of it as you leave your teen years behind, I really like the shredder metaphor.

Best of all, fiction comes with catharsis, usually. Not so much darkfic or torture porn, but whump and hurt/comfort usually have a caregiver character, who spends the whole story worrying over the character getting hurt, and / or spends a portion of the story nursing the character back to health. Either way, they provide a way for the reader to vicariously live through being cared about and fussed over and have people demonstrating their love for the whumpee through being deeply distressed over their pain and desperate to ease it, to help them.

(If you think about it, this is, perhaps, very similar to the way a Dom provides their sub with love and catharsis and care during aftercare after intense scenes – which may have included powerful emotions such as shame from things like humiliation and dehumanisation, or physical pain from things like flogging or spanking… Isn’t it funny how people play out the same patterns over and over? Once you’re looking for them, they’re surprisingly easy to spot. Breaking people down, building them back up again… violence and vulnerability, and control.)

For anyone (and, again, especially for people who are hurting emotionally already in some way) this whole process can be very powerful, and very soothing. The character is hurt, broken down – and there’s this lovely, intense emotional release on the reader’s behalf where they get to experience all these big, scary, good emotions, maybe have a bit of a cry, maybe feel a bit sick, maybe get a little aroused. They can wallow in the state the character’s been brought down to, where they’re so tired and broken and damaged that there’s nowhere lower to go, that they can just be – which, oddly enough, can be very soothing in a way.

And then a caregiver turns up, and demonstrates their love and affection and deep desire to help the character that the reader has been putting themselves in the position of – and the reader gets to experience that love and care and acknowledgement of the pain they’ve just been through, second-hand.

Some people need this final catharsis a lot, and go for hurt/comfort, where the balance of hurt to comfort is usually 50:50, or tipped even further in favour of comfort, and the hurt is generally fairly mild (broken leg, small accident, minor injuries). Some people need more intense hurt, and less comfort, where the balance is maybe 75:25, or tipped even further in favour of hurt (possibly even no explicit comfort, just the promise that it’s going to happen after the story), and the injuries might be graphic, or there might be torture. And then there’s darkfic, and tortureporn, that’s just entirely hurt, and usually involves gore / guro / body horror, people enduring unsurvivable injuries, and possibly the character dying at the end. So the vulnerability-catharsis cycle isn’t the same for everyone! And, in fact, doesn’t even need to be a cycle for some people.

(I, personally, tend to sit cheerfully on the line between whump and tortureporn, for those curious. Love me some torture, but I generally want at least the promise of a positive-ish ending, if not a little outright worrying and comforting from a caregiver character. Suffering is most interesting when there’s someone who cares there to witness it and worry over, for me – it legitimises the pain of it, somehow, I think.)

Incidentally, mentioning “broken down”: characters can be really interesting to read about and write in extreme mindsets, whether that’s someone broken down to almost nothing, someone furiously determined not to give into the pain and stay strong, someone who’s abusive and whose thought processes are badly warped as a result, someone who’s so sadistic they’re barely even human any more… extremes of human existence, of human experience, of human thought processes and mindset, seem to just be a Thing that people find interesting. (They’re a thing people are interested in experiencing, but in a controlled environment where no one’s actually getting hurt.) So I’m sure that’s also got something to do with it – that humans are kinda voyeuristic and nosey when it comes to Horrible Things and Mangled Corpses and Huge Tragedies, even irl, and that naturally bleeds over into fiction.

Another important aspect is that both irl and fiction are full of examples of violence and hurt towards minority groups – women, poc, and lgbtq+ and mentally ill people, to mention just a few, since they’re the groups fandom is largely comprised of. But there’s very few depictions of (specifically cishet and white, but not exclusively) men experiencing violence, or being hurt. When men in fiction do get hurt, they largely bounce back from it, action-hero style. You get this sort of “impervious, invulnerable man” character, who never seems to experience any true sort of pain or suffering – and who also looks a lot like the people who enact violence on minorities in real life.

There is, then, something appealing about a) seeing the untouchable become touchable, the unhurtable become hurt, the invulnerable made vulnerable, b) seeing someone who is usually the one enacting trauma being the one that’s experiencing the trauma, and suffering for it, “seeing how it feels”, c) seeing someone who usually shrugs off any kind of trauma or pain having to actually deal with that pain, and become vulnerable and more real as a result, sort of humanising thing, and d) being able to project the violence and trauma minorities experience or live in fear of on a daily basis onto a “blank slate” character.

In a culture that treats male (again, especially white, cishet male) as the default, hurting fictional male characters can be a way for minorities to examine, explore, and discuss their fears and feelings surrounding the violence they’re constantly hyperaware of, but one step removed from themselves. You can hurt a white, cisgender man and be able to realistically talk about violence, and the short- and long-term consequences of that violence, without having to think about stuff like racism, transphobia, and misogyny, which may be a little too close for comfort. Even given fandom’s tendency to make characters gay or bi, a fairly small proportion of whump and darkfic is focused on attacks to do with or even tangentially related to a character’s sexual orientation. People want the violence and the aftermath, but they don’t necessarily want the messy, real societal issues that so often come along with that.

There’s a lot of discussion about women using slashfic to examine their thoughts and feelings about sex and romance without having to confront various, female-specific or gendered issues around them. I get the feeling – especially given most whump targets are male, and many people are utterly disinterested in or actively upset by female whump – that whump is, similarly, a “safe” way for women and other minorities to explore their thoughts and feelings about the violence they are immersed in. They can even create imagined minorities which which to explore realistic violence against minorities but again without the personal context. This is most obvious with A/B/O and BDSM aus (omegas, who are stereotyped in-universe as weak and prey-like and needing an alpha to “protect them”, and subs, who are stereotyped in-universe as much the same), but even in aus more removed from being obvious social critiques people tend to create some kind of group perceived in-universe as weak and easily victimised with which to explore these issues.

And, even when the whump targets are members of real-life minorities, such women, or poc, or lgbtq+, there’s still that element of author or reader control. They can control whether the whumpee is getting hurt because of their minority status, which minority status they’re being hurt because of, whether the violence they experience lines up to common irl expressions of violence against that minority, how far the violence goes, whether the fictional community around the whumpee reacts realistically or overwhelmingly sympathetically…

Finally, and relatedly to the above point, there’s also the eternally-trotted-out “coping mechanism” line, which… has been pretty badly weaponised, unfortunately, by people who don’t really seem to care about the people using darker fiction as a coping mechanism and mostly seem to care about policing people’s fiction consumption. But it’s definitely a thing, and some people enjoy darker fiction because it gives them a way to relive past abuse or mistreatment in a safe environment (they can close the tab, hit the back button, if it gets too intense). Allows them to put themselves in a position of power again (reading noncon and imagining themselves as the rapist, or reading noncon and knowing they can stop reading at any time, or reading a consensual nonconsent scene where the sub actually has the power because they can say stop at any time). Gives them a sense of reassurance and catharsis through the caregiving aspect of it (their fave characters went through what they did, these characters still have people who love them even after the abuse, these characters were told it wasn’t their fault and they’re strong and perfect and deserve to be supported and their abusers are bad people). Gives them a chance to fictionally confront their abuser (the fictional abuser gets put in jail, or killed, or gets the shit kicked out of them / gets verbally condemned by the survivor’s friends, or the survivor finds the strength to confront them about what they did).

And oh, hey, look, we’re back to power, and controllable vulnerability, and catharsis. Surprise!

So… that’s it, really. In the end, it largely comes down to power and control, and catharsis, and vulnerability. People use darkfic because it’s a safe way of feeling intense emotions and then getting love and catharsis afterwards, or of venting negative feelings and desires they’re already feeling without hurting anyone or needing to feel guilty after, and because humans have been getting off on power dynamics and taboos since probably forever. People have kinks for… pretty much the same reasons, but with sexualisation and erotic responses. Pretty much every big, scary kink can be broken down into lots of little non-scary kinks. Fantasies aren’t inherently bad, and it’s pretty normal and not inherently harmful to have fantasies about things that would be Deeply Bad irl. Humans are fucking Weird, and I love them for it.

Did I really need over 5k to say that? Maybe, maybe not, but it’s been fun putting thought into this whilst avoiding doing my coursework, and hopefully it’ll be useful to some people (and maybe to me, next time I need to argue against purity politics).

If you’re interested in talking / thinking more about this: my ask box is always open. I’m always curious to hear people talk about their own experiences with trying to understand their weirder or darker kinks, or happy to answer questions about why I or other people like things, or to just be as much of a safe space as I can manage for these kinds of things. If you’re interested in more introspection about non-sexualised violence and why people have intense, enjoyable (but largely non-erotic) responses to it, go into the “whump” tag and poke around a bit on the blogs that post in there – most whump blogs talk about why they like whump a fair bit, and there’s a huge amount of variation. The “purity politics” tag on my personal blog has a lot of me being annoyed at people trying to police fiction, but it also has a lot of really good, introspective thoughts on why people like, want, and need darker themes in fiction. Finally, the book “In The Flesh: The Cultural Politics of Body Modification” by Victoria Pitts also touches a bit on similar real-life things, where body modification overlaps with kink and fetish and BDSM things and people’s enjoyment of pain and injury as both a personal thing and public spectacle. (She’s got some fun thoughts on identity that I really liked, too, though that’s for a different discussion.)

Otherwise… Whilst I think it’s good to think critically about what you’re into and how and why, and do the same about what other people are into, I don’t think it’s necessarily great to criticise yourself for what you’re into. (Caveat: this is not me approving of people committing illegal acts irl, just… acknowledging that people usually worry a lot about having “bad” fantasies, when really fantasies rarely hurt anyone, don’t necessarily indicate a desire for something to happen irl, and are rarely as bad / weird / unusual as the person having them thinks.) Think about stuff, but try not to stress, and try to enjoy working out the shape of your brain and what you like. You might be surprised what you find out about yourself in the process.

#anonymous #ask #whump #meta #darkfic #sparx chats #idk what to tag this with really???#it's just like. 5k of me talking about why human brains are weird and sometimes really like violence #even if your human brain is Definitely Not Weird and you Definitely Don't Like Violence i'd suggest reading it tho #i would hope it's interesting #and i think it's got a bunch of important things in it given the current fandom climate #essays

459 notes · View notes