Whumper walking on Whumpee during their escape attempt, where Whumpee has somehow escaped their restraints and managed to get a weapon. Bonus points if Whumpee is surprisingly competent with weapons.
this doesnt get bonus points but its so close i have to link it
tw guns, whumper turned whumpee, whumpee turned whumper, gore (fingore), death threat
Whumper froze for a moment when they saw the empty shackles, knowing well that they’d left all their usual weapons in the cell with their captive. If their captive was out–
“Don’t move,” Whumpee said calmly, punctuating it with the click of the gun being cocked.
“Now, let’s not get carried away.” Whumper slowly turned their head to look at Whumpee, flashing them a charming smile while trying to reach into their pocket. “I think–”
Bang. The bullet hit their hand with clinical precision, blowing two fingers clean off. Whumper let out a scream of sheer horror at the sight, cradling their wounded hand against their chest.
“Don’t. Move.”
“What the fuck?” they shouted. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Whumpee didn’t waver; their hand stayed steady, and the gun was still pointed straight at them. “I’m going to tell you exactly what to do, and you’re going to do it. Every time you fail to comply, I’m putting another bullet in you.”
“Oh, you’re going to run out very fucking quickly,” they snarled, and Whumpee allowed themself an amused smile.
“I know exactly how many bullets this has — the last one is going in your head. But at that point, I’d wager it’ll be at your request, as a last little mercy.” They tilted their head to the side, and Whumper saw nothing in their eyes but the murderous intent to support that statement. “I’ll give you a moment to think about whether you really want to spite me.”
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Something's Not Right
Whumping the Whumper - Part Thirty-six
(tw: internal bleeding, death threat, illness, long term captivity, concussion, bruises, gun, murder mention, nonsexual nudity)
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[Chronologically following this scene]
Four years ago...
“E-Ethan? Ethan wake up..-”
Ethan stirred at the light poke to his thigh. He groaned, stretching against the cold concrete before squinting open his eyes. His arms instinctively snaked around Johnny, pulling his warmth closer. His head was throbbing- he pressed the ache closer into Johnny’s shoulder to bury it away again.
“N-no, Ethan. Please.”
His eyes fluttered open, squinting down at Johnny in the moonlight. He looked…scared. Must have had a nightmare again.
Ethan swallowed the grogginess from his throat and reached up to brush a few stray locks of hair from Johnny’s forehead. “What’s wrong?”
Johnny stared up at him, eyes shimmering. “Som..something’s not right. It’s wrong and-” Johnny’s voice cracked as a tear leaked from the corner of his eye. “It’s just…wrong.”
Ethan’s brows pinched together. “Why don’t you try to get back to sleep? It always hurts worst right away - maybe when you wake up-”
“-no, it’s wrong.” Tears were dripping steadily now. Johnny’s quick, shallow breaths pressed against Ethan’s chest.
Was Johnny always this warm?
Ethan sat up, looking over Johnny. He was bruised, sure, but..he’d woken earlier and Johnny was alright. Not…completely alright, of course. But…healable. Crawford had used his fists, the damage was mostly to his thighs and torso. No broken bones, no sprains, just deep, aching bruises.
..Ethan tried to pull him a little closer. “Some more sleep sh-”
Johnny pressed his palm against the ground, tugging himself free from Ethan’s arms. “I-I don’t know what it…what it is. Something…something’s not right…”
Something akin to fear started to curl in Ethan’s stomach. No. Weighed it down. Sour and heavy and hot, pressing against his mind. He sat the rest of the way up, too, folding his arms around Johnny. He kissed the back of his neck.
…Johnny was sweating.
In this cold??
He gripped Johnny a little tighter. “Does it hurt?”
Johnny reached up, clutching Ethan’s fore-arms. One hand clamping down, the other resting lightly. “Yeah, it’s…yeah.” Johnny swallowed. “It’s wrong. Something’s wrong.”
“Okay, okay I…I hear you.” Ethan didn’t know what to do. He rubbed his thumb up and down against Johnny’s shoulder. “What does it feel like?”
“..just...wrong.”
“Does…it hurt more than usual?”
“...Um…I think so? No. Wait. Not…not more, jus- … different. I can’t…everything feels wrong.”
Ethan’s hand presses against his forehead. “..is it any particular place?”
Johnny’s breath pulled out in a whine, hugging Ethan’s arm closer. “...e…kinda everywhere but…b-ut ‘specially here-” he made a vague gesture over his abdomen.
Ethan frowned, extracting himself from Johnny’s grip. He carefully picked at the hem of Johnny’s shirt, carefully pulling it up and off of him. There were no goosebumps despite the chill that must have just washed over him. Sweat clung to the shirt, making a sticky sound as he forced it off Johnny’s skin.
Ethan’s eyes slid back and forth over the bruises that just barely showed up as an outline in the sprinkling of moonlight that worked its way into the basement. His brows pinched, worry starting to churn through him.
..Crawford hit too hard. He knew these symptoms, Johnny was bleeding where he couldn’t see.
Ethan pulled the shirt back down, praying to the first handful of gods he could think of that it would clear up within a couple days. At least one god had to listen to him, right?
“..is…is i-t okay..?”
Ethan looked helplessly over Johnny, hand lifting to cradle his face. “..I don’t…I think so - I do. But..I really think we should get you a doctor.”
Johnny laughed- but the small, spiteful sound immediately sputtered out into a small whine, breaths immediately falling faster and shallow. “Hh-hhhe w-on’t- n-no way-”
“...Just let me ask.”
Johnny’s head tilted into Ethan’s palm, cradling it there with his own. “...o-kay..”
So much for his headache. Is it still considered a headache when it’s a concussion?
In any case, so much for his concussion.
Ethan leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Johnny’s forehead before dragging himself up and toward the stairs. He took them three at a time until his fists bruised against the door with the force of his banging. “HEY ASSHOLE-! GET THE FUCK DOWN HERE-!”
Johnny rolled his eyes through labored breath, propped against the wall. “...h-e’s not gonna come- it’s like fffour in the morning.”
“He will if I don’t shut up-” Ethan turned back to the door, hammering on the wood again. “CRAWFORD, YOU SLIMEY BITCH WE NEED A DOCTOR-!”
Ethan paced, shouting up and out into the house he couldn’t reach for almost twenty minutes, his own head reeling and spinning damn near off his shoulders each time he screamed up to the well known abuser and an unknown god in tandem.
Finally, finally, the bastard showed his face.
The door slammed open the moment it was unlocked, gun pointed at Ethan.
Ethan took a hesitant step backward down the stairs, eyes on the gun. He never got that out.
“What. The fuck. Is wrong with you,” Crawford bit out, all but drooling venom.
Ethan lifted his hands. “We need a doctor- you fucked up Johnny too much.”
Crawford scoffed, starting to close the door. “I didn’t do anything different, go the fuck to sleep.”
Ethan stepped forward, bracing one hand against the door so it couldn’t close. “No, wait- I’m seriously h-”
The sound of the gun cocking cut off his sentence. “He’s. Fine. You were a little bitch when you first got here, too. Deal with it.”
“He’s bleeding internally!”
“And who’s fault is that?”
Ethan froze, memories of running skittering across his mind. Johnny’s screams. Crawford’s cursing. Guilt curled fresh into his blood.
Swallowing down emotions and pride, he tried again. “...please. He needs a doctor.”
“I will kill him if you don’t shut the fuck up. He’s fine. Keep pushing it and he won’t be.”
Rage flickered across Ethan’s eyes, but he let his hand fall from the door.
In a moment, it slammed in his face, deadbolt snapping back into the frame.
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And what if i came from tt, that doesn’t change the fact you’re literally supporting pedophila and incest plus last time i checked you don’t own tumblr, you do not get to tell me whether or not i get to be on here plz do everyone a favor and do the sayori challenge 🙏
Omg you’re still here, hiiii tiktok!! :3
Anyway not gonna waste too many words here so,
tiktok is riddled with antis so you never went outside of that circle.
fictional characters are not real, therefore there is no blood connection nor age.
yeah, but you control what you see.
More proof of tiktok anti behavior, telling people to kill themselves over pixels lmao
bet you’re actually a freak tho it’s ok dw i won’t snitch
i won’t respond to you anymore, just to spare my poor followers 😔
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Sibling Shuffle Minicomic: Decoy Flashdrive
Lore context: No, Bass does not have permission to enter Light Labs. However, he’s Bass.
Art context: this took me all day & I didn’t feel like shading. I hope you like it anyway!
Bonus Conversation:
Bass: I still don’t get why you even have that. You could’ve put a normal thing on there, like a virus or something…
Blues: Well, you see, Most people are no strangers to that song.
Bass: Uh, duh? That still doesn’t explain—
Blues: You know the rules, and so do I—
Bass: I’m going to kill you.
—————————————————————————
Way back when I first uploaded the character sheets for Piano and Bass, @teammelodies reblogged it on their @askprotoroll blog, asking in the tags if Bass’s “other friend” (who I mentioned in the design notes) was Rock or Blues. My initial thought was that Rock would try to reach out to Bass and Piano, and I think thats something lore-wise that I’ll keep. HOWEVER. I got this idea and it wouldn’t let go of my brain until I drew it.
About Blues’s comment about Wily plagiarizing: I owe that idea to this video that I watched earlier this year.
Any Questions? Please, ask them!
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tw nonhuman whumpee, framed for murder, death threat, held at knifepoint (swordpoint?)
"Okay– okay, let's not– let's not get carried away here," Whumpee forced out, pressing their back into the wall even more. They had been running from the hunter for weeks, and just when they thought they were finally in the clear...
"Do you think that's an appropriate request to make?" They dug the point of their silver-covered sword into Whumpee's neck, and they hissed when it started burning. Great. There was no way to explain that, even in their human form. "You've been murdering innocents everywhere you went, terrorising entire villages."
"I wasn't! I wasn't, please, that wasn't me–"
"Wasn't it?"
Whumpee was very aware of just how cornered they were. They could barely think with the scent of their own burnt flesh filling their nose, but they tried anyway, because there had to have been a reason the hunter hadn't chopped their head clean off. Yet.
"I only ever take livestock," they said sincerely. "I'd never hurt a human. I was human once! Before the bite! And I know it's still terrible, I'm still a thief, but I'm not a murderer."
The hunter's face was unreadable. The only reason Whumpee knew they were even considering their words was because they still weren't dead. "Someone has been murdering people. And the victims line up perfectly with sightings of a werewolf."
"I don't know who it is... I don't know. Someone, someone's following me, trying to get away with murders by using me as–"
"Do you expect me to believe that?"
Whumpee swallowed. It was the truth. How were they supposed to prove that? "Why am I still alive if you don't believe me?" they asked quietly. "You must have at least some doubts. I mean, surely, you don't want to make a fatal mistake like punishing the innocent, right? So take me captive, then! Take me and see whether the murders continue. If they don't– if they don't, then..."
"Then I'll kill you," they finished coldly, and Whumpee knew they meant it. If the copycat were to suddenly stop, they would be murdered in cold blood.
"Th-then you'll kill me."
~
general drabbles taglist: @ashh-ed @whumpsday @whump-queen @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @rosewriteswhump @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @whumpkinpie @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @whump-em @cyborg0109 @morning-star-whump @justanotherlokifan @2in1whump @lthrboy @justletmereadmywhump @florissimps @anonymous-tiangou @whump-kitty
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