#reassuring whump

[jordanstrophe]

Whumpee’s tortured unconscious, unaware that in the time they were out, they were found and rushed to the hospital. 

They awaken through a nightmare, screaming, crying, a stranger to the absence of pain. Someone is holding them by their shoulders, saying “Easy, you’re safe, you’re in a hospital. You were out for a while.”  

The world switched too quickly to comprehend it. This must be a lie, a hallucination, a cruel misguided trick. They can see their torso wrapped in bandages hiding away injuries they knew were there. 

“Don’t look down. Look at me.” Caretaker bent their head into their view. 

“H-how... Did this ha-happen?” Whumpee whispered. Caretaker furrowed their brow, but did well to keep their face calm.

“You’re going to be okay, that’s all that matters.” They softly smiled.

#whump #whumpee #caretaker #caretaking #hurt/comfort #comfort #comfort whump #whump prompt #caretaking prompt #caretaker prompt #caretaking scenario #whump scenario #torture whump #rescued whumpee #recovery whump #recovery prompt #rough recovery #reassuring whump #whump fluff #hospital whump #medical whump

[lumpsbumpsandwhumps]

whump fic where whumpee is being held captive by whumper and continually tries to escape to find where caretaker is being held so they can get out of here together, but as the story progresses it becomes more clear that whumpee is a victim of stockholm syndrome/brainwashing by "caretaker" and is actually being rehabilitated by "whumper" after being rescued, not kidnapped

#whumpee thinks whumper is torturing them but in reality theyre trying to treat old wounds they dont even remember sustaining #fights against being drugged but actually they're experiencing withdrawal symptoms after whumper flushed out their system #whumper making threats that whumpee will never see caretaker again but its not a threat its supposed to be a calm reassurance #the slow slow burn of whumpee realizing just how fucked their situation is and having to face that reality #whump #whump community #whump scenario #whumpee #whumper #whump ideas #implied whump #whump writing #whump prompt #whumpblr #defiant whumpee #caretaker #bad caretaker #carewhumper

[whumpster-dumpster]

"It gets easier."

"Are you lying?"

"...Of course I'm lying."

#whump #whump prompt #writing prompt #dialogue prompt #reassurance #lying

[letitbehurt]

Whumpers who make Whumpee believe very little time has passed—less than what actually has. It could have been two years since Whumpee was taken, but Whumper swears up and down it’s only been 9 months.

Alternatively, Whumpers who make Whumpee believe more time has passed. It’s only been a few months since Whumper took them, they’re sure they’ve been keeping track, but then Whumper surprises them with a one-year anniversary dinner.

#when Whumpee escapes they have no sense of time #they have to be reassured of the date constantly #they’re never on time to appointments because an hour used to take days #Caretaker wakes to Whumpee eating or showering at odd hours of the night because they forgot what it was like to eat on a schedule #whump

[urlocalwhumper]

android whumpee being beaten to shit in front of a restrained human caretaker. whumper jeering that plastic can't feel pain as they take a metal bat to whumpee's limbs, ignoring caretaker's desperate cries to leave them alone and the android's "blood" staining the concrete blue. (or whatever color you prefer android "blood" to be)

once whumper leaves, caretaker rushes to whumpee's side, but there really isn't much they can do. androids can "heal" like humans do for small things, but damage this extensive and severe is going to need professional repairs.

whumpee is doing their absolute best to stay as functional as they can. shutting down in front of caretaker would only traumatize them further; it'd be like watching whumpee die right before their eyes, even though they could easily be restarted once they'd been repaired. no, they needed to stay online, no matter how many errors filled their display or how badly it hurt.

only one of whumpee's limbs still has function - their left arm - and they use it to weakly grasp caretaker's hand as they pull their phone out of their pocket to call for help.

"you're gonna be okay." caretaker says, voice shaking as they gently kiss whumpee's knuckles. "everything's gonna be okay."

whumpee dismisses all the errors blocking their vision, they can feel the extent of the damage fine enough, so they can look at caretaker clearly.

"i might shut down." they say, and caretaker's head whipped up to look at them so fast whumpee was a bit concerned for their neck.

"it's not permanent." they quickly add, seeing the distress on caretaker's face. "androids- we shut down when we're too damaged to stay functional. once the damage is fixed, we come back good as new." they squeeze caretaker's hand. "it's sort of like... passing out. scary, but i'll be okay."

"you better be." caretaker mumbles. whumpee can't help but laugh a little at that.

and then their vision blacks out.

#whump #whump prompts #android whumpee #robot whumpee #whumpee x caretaker #was the intention but i'm pretty sure you can still read this platonically #mine #whumpee did indeed shut down at the end #but as they reassured caretaker - they'll be okay once they're back in functioning shape

[whumpshots]

Whumptober #27

Trope of the day: “Let me see.”

_

When caretaker walks out of their bedroom to check where the noises come from, they are more than surprised to see whumpee in their office, sitting on the ground and rumaging through bandages.

Small drops and puddles of blood are on the floor, so caretaker snaps out of their sleepiness and hurry to whumpee's side, who tenses up when they see them.

"Sorry, I- I didn't want to wake you up," they mutter, their own eyes tired, but face pale from pain. Caretaker crouches down next to them and cocks their head.

"I'd prefer it, if you woke me up," they reassure them and nod at the arm whumpee has wrapped in makeshift bandages. “Let me see,” they say softly and patiently wait for whumpee to nod and stretch out their arm.

Caretaker won't ask where the injury comes from, it's enough that whumpee didn't flee when caretaker walked in. Small steps are better than none, they remind themself and sit down to take a better look.

#whumptober 2023 #whumptober2023 #whumptober #trope of the day #“Let me see” #no.27 #whump writing #whumpee #caretaker #injured whumpee #hurt/comfort #reassuring caretaker #whumpshots

[snakebites-and-ink]

Conditioned whumpees crying for their master ❤️❤️❤️

#got to be one of my favorite types of guy #when caretaker tries to rescue them and whumpee frantically starts crying out for whumper mwah chefs kiss #Or when their automatic reaction to being scared is wanting whumper for comfort or reassurance #Or when they miss whumper after being rescued #conditioned whumpee #whump

[wisteria-whump]

thinking about an inexperienced caretaker seeing that some of whumpee's huge bruises have turned yellow/green and not being certain if it's just from them healing or if it's an indicator of something like an infection

#i once had an absolutely gigantic bruise that was around the same area where i had a bunch of deep animal bites #it eventually turned very yellow and i knew it was probably just healing #but its not very reassuring to have a bunch of the skin around animal bites be solidly yellow #it didnt end up being anything bad it was just healing #but it looked crazy because almost the entire inside side of my arm from the elbow down was completely yellow #whump #whump prompt #whump prompts #whump writing #whump idea #whump blog #whump scenario #tw whump #whump tw #writing prompts #tw bruises #tw bites

[guardian-angle22]

TK/Carlos + Touch

↳ 2.08 Bad Call 

#911 lone star #tk strand #carlos reyes #tarlos #tk/carlos + touch #this episode has a special place in my cold little tk-whump-loving heart ngl #the way tk goes limp in carlos' hold cause he knows he's safe now and you can see carlos saying things to him - probably so softly #the last one especially with tk holding the ice pack to his head while carlos gives him little side pats/scritches #carlos is fond of the reassuring scritches #the mystery of rafa's thumb bandage will forever haunt me tho ngl #my gifs #episode: s02e08 bad call

[serickswrites]

Reassuring

Warnings: referenced injury, referenced captivity, hurt/comfort, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery

“I’m fucking useless!” Whumpee growled in frustration as they failed to grab the cup set before them once more. “I can’t do anything!”

“Whumpee, love, it’s ok--” Caretaker said soothingly. 

“It is not ok. NONE of this is ok.” Whumpee stood up suddenly. “I can’t do anything with this stupid useless arm!”

“Whumpee, love, I--”

“Why did you even bother saving me? I can’t do anything. I’m just a waste of space!” Whumpee’s voice got louder and louder with each word. 

Caretaker could see the tears in Whumpee’s eyes. “Love, sit down.” They put a straw in Whumpee’s cup. “Here. That’s all I was going to say. It’s ok because I have a straw for you.”

“Oh,” Whumpee said anger suddenly deflating. They looked utterly defeated. Their time with Whumper had changed them. Physically and emotionally. 

“And,” Caretaker sat down next to Whumpee, “I saved you because I love you. Not because you’re useful.”

#serickswrites #whump #whumpblr #whump writing #whump community #tw referenced injury #tw referenced captivity #hurt/comfort #hurt/recovery #hurt/aftermath #caretaker and whumpee #amow #amow march-trope-a-thon #day 7 #prompt: angst #comfort prompt: reassurance #queue

[writersloveroe]

reassurance dialogue prompts

♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎

•”you’ll be okay, i promise,”

•”i’ll be right here,”

•”no one can hurt you anymore,”

•”you’re safe with me,”

•”i promise i’ll be right by your side,”

•”there’s nothing to be afraid of anymore,”

•”you can do this,”

•”everything will turn out fine,”

•”you won’t mess up,”

•”they’ll all love you,”

•”you’ll be fine,”

•”i promise i’m telling the truth,”

•”i’ll be here all night, you can sleep,”

•”i won’t let anyone hurt you,”

#reassurance #comfort #comfort prompts #comforting #whump tropes #dialogue ideas #character dialogue #fanfiction writer #fanfic #fanfiction prompts #writing prompt #story prompt #writers on tumblr #writing #encouraging words #whump dialogue #caretaker #dialogue prompt

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

Not So Invincible After All

Whumpuary 2023: Prompt 3. Shot

2023 Year of Whump: Jan 1. Whispered Reassurances

Fandom: DC, Batman, Jason Todd, Red Hood, f!reader, Superman/Lois Lane's Daughter!Reader

Summary: Tired of living in your father's shadow, you move to Gotham where you meet Jason Todd. As the two of you become an unstoppable team (in love and crimefighting), everything seems perfect. Until something goes wrong…

Word Count: 3417

TW: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Gun Shot, Blood, Loss of powers, Pain, Ambiguous Ending, Language

Notes: Thank you to @icarusthefoolish for this request!

Moving to Gotham City is not a hard decision to make. You need to get out of your father’s shadow in Metropolis and the heroes of Gotham could use some extra help after Bruce’s death and Dick taking over the mantle as Batman. So, it seems like the perfect spot for you to start your solo career as a superhero. However, it is only right to get permission from those already protecting the city first.

To your utter embarrassment, your father sets up the meeting for you and insists on coming. Though you are an adult, he still treats you like a child. But, as much as you try to argue against it, once your mother steps in and says he is going, all arguments are over. Not even you argued with Lois Lane when she took that tone.

Which is how you find yourself standing outside Wayne Manor with your arms crossed over the S emblem on your chest, staring down the remaining members of the Batfamily. You had known Bruce extremely well, you had never met any of his wards before, though you knew who they all were.

Damien seems unimpressed by you and quickly turns his attention to other things after his introduction. Tim is the complete opposite, practically bouncing up and down as he shakes your hand and tries to ask you a million questions. Luckily, Dick gently pushes him to the side, reminding him there will be time for that later. The new Batman is so different from Bruce and yet you can still see flashes of his late guardian in the way he holds himself and addresses the situation at hand. Which just left Jason. The formerly dead vigilante didn’t say anything while you were introduced, but his eyes never leave your face the entire time your dad is explaining the situation. There is a playful twinkle in his eyes that you can’t quite understand, but you push it to the back of your mind as your dad finishes up and lifts up into the sky, drifting back a few dozen feet to give you some space for once.

Your eyes quickly flicker across each of the heroes in front of you and you clear your throat. “So, basically what Dad said. I want to leave Metropolis, you guys seem to need an extra set of hands around here– it seems like a win-win.”

For the first time, Damien speaks up. “Who says we need ‘extra hands’? We are protecting the city just fine without assistance.”

You lock eyes with the young Robin, completely unfazed by the death stare he is giving you. “Listen, kid. You guys are doing fine, but don’t think you are living up to The Bat’s legacy, at least not yet. I might not be living in Gotham at the moment, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t been keeping an eye on things. Dick is doing an admirable job of being Batman, but it’s pretty obvious he’s just one of the birds playing dress up. And I’m not the only one who's noticed. The criminals in this city are getting bolder and sooner or later, one of them is going to do something the four of you can’t handle. So, if you don’t want my help, that’s fine. There are a million other cities I can move to. But then don’t come crying to me when you get your asses handed to you and you need someone to save you, because I might not be interested anymore.”

Damien continues to stare you down for a moment, then slowly nods, breaking eye contact. And with that, you know you have earned the respect of the one person who you really needed to win over tonight.

Elbowing Tim in the ribs, Jason grins as he mutters, “Wow. I never expected to hear something like that coming from the boy scout’s daughter.” 

One side of your mouth quirks up in a sly smile as your superhearing picks up on what he said. Turning your gaze so you are staring directly into his eyes, you say, “Then you’ve never met my mother. I might get my powers from my father, but I get my spirit and my wicked tongue from her.”

You can see the gears working in Jason’s head as the response forms. The way his heartbeat speeds up slightly, the slight dilation of his pupils, how his jaw tightens as he forces himself not to make the witty comment he desperately wants to but can’t with your father still hovering feet away. And that makes the smile on your lips widen.

The rest of the meeting runs smoothly. It is agreed that you can stay in Gotham and help protect its people as long as you don’t get in the Batfamily’s way. However, they do extend an invitation to team up with them whenever you want. You doubt it will happen, but it is nice to know that option is there.

You say goodbye to your dad and watch as he flies away. Once he is out of sight of even your advanced vision, you pivot sharply and strut straight up to Jason. 

He seems slightly startled by your brash confrontation, but he stands his ground. As you reach him, you lean over until your lips lightly brush the curve of his ear, and you whisper, “Maybe if you play your cards right, I can show you how wicked this tongue can get.” 

With your powers, you can sense the multitude of physical reactions your words send through his body and you chuckle as you pat his cheek before flying off into the night. 

As it turns out, Jason played his cards very right seeing as you end up waking up in his bed less than a week later. And you haven’t left since. Now, after almost five months of living in Gotham, you and Jason have become the ultimate team, in and out of your costumes. Despite both of your tempers, sarcastic natures, and constant desire to push back against the ideals of your fathers, the two of you balance each other out in some strange way. 

And Jason is never intimidated by your powers or your nigh invulnerability. In fact, he is nothing but supportive of them. In fights, you quickly find a rhythm where you go after the strongest opponent while Jason covers you or takes out the weaker opponents. It’s a system that never seems to fail, and the two of you seem unstoppable.

Until one night….

Jason is chasing two men through the streets. They just robbed Gotham National Bank but for some reason, ditched the bags of money fairly quickly as they tried to lose Jason. But he just let you gather up the forfeited money and fly it back to the bank while he continued his chase. 

By the time you return and spot him, he has chased the men onto the roof of a building. Just as the men realize they are trapped and this will be a fight, you land next to Jason with a grin.

“Hello, boys. What seems to be the trouble here?”

The men exchange angry glances and one of them hisses loudly to the other, “What do we do? We wanted Superman, not Superbitch.”

“Hey! Watch your fucking mouth!” Jason growls, taking a step closer, but you place a hand on his chest, halting him.

“Well, you shitheads are in the wrong city then. Superman doesn’t come here. This is my turf. So, does that mean you want to just give up now, or are we going to have a little fun tonight?” The men exchange glances then pull out their guns. You nod. “Okay, then. Fun it is.”

Before they can react, you have crossed the distance between you and grab one of the men by his jacket and soar up into the air. The man immediately drops his gun as he frantically clutches at your arms, trying to hold on as tightly as he can. But it makes little difference. With a cheeky grin, you release your grip. The man only has a fraction of a second to realize what is about to happen before he plummets towards the ground. 

You continue to hover in the air as you watch him fall farther and farther, his screams of terror slowly growing fainter. Finally, when he is just a few dozen feet from the ground, you sigh and soar downward. You reach him just before he hits the ground, wrapping your arms around his chest and holding him about a foot in the air. 

He continues to scream even once you set him back on the sidewalk, his legs giving out from under him as he collapses in a heap. Bending over to peer down at him, you ask, “Now, are you going to be a good boy and stay put until the cops show up, or do we have to try that again?”

He pales at the very thought and clutches your leg. “N-n-no! Please! N-not again!”

Patting his head, you say, “Good boy. Now, let’s see if your friend is as agreeable.” And you launch yourself back into the air towards the top of the building. 

When you reach the roof, you see Jason has dealt with the other man who is lying face down on the far side of the building. Jason looks up as you land and even through his helmet, you can hear the smile in his voice as he asks, “Did you catch this one in time?”

“One time! I missed one time! And I still stopped him before he was permanently injured. Are you ever going to let me live that down?”

“Nope.” He starts to cross the roof to you.

But just then, you both hear a sound behind him, and turn to look. The man Jason had knocked down has climbed back to his feet, and before Jason can react, the man raises his gun and fires three shots straight at his chest.

“Nice try,” you smirk as you streak forward at superspeed, stopping just in front of Jason as the bullets soar toward him.

However, the smirk drops from your face as the bullets don’t bounce harmlessly off you as expected. Instead, they drive deep into your chest, just above your heart. The force of the impact causes you to stumble backward into Jason, who flinches slightly in surprise at your sudden appearance and collision with him. 

Instantly, it feels like all of your strength is being sapped from your body and you collapse heavily against Jason’s chest. Luckily, he has a firm grip on your waist and keeps you from falling completely. Drawing you in, he lowers both of you to the ground and allows you to lean against him with your legs out in front of you.

Neither of you saw where the gunman disappeared after you collapsed, but at the moment, it is the least of your concerns. Glancing down, you can see three distinct holes in your suit, each one gushing blood. Normally, that should be the most worrisome part of the problem. However, your breath catches in your throat as you notice the faint green sheen mixed with your blood.

But Jason hasn’t realized that yet. Ripping off his helmet to get a better look at your wound, he asks, “What’s going on? How did this happen?”

“I think– I think they were made for my father. Kryptonite bullets.”

The realization of what this means slowly passes over Jason’s face. “That’s why they didn’t just bounce off you. You have Kryptonite buried in your chest?”

“Not just there. It’s some sort of poison bullet that’s releasing it into my system. I can feel it like acid in my veins. Spreading throughout my body.” You cry out as a fresh wave of pain hits you. “God! It hurts so much.”

“I’m calling Supes. Maybe he can–”

“No, Jay, don’t you get it? Even just being near me right now will weaken him. And those guys could still be around waiting for that. I can’t d–do that to him.” You shudder again at the pain and Jason uses his hands to cover your wound in a desperate attempt to slow the bleeding.

“It’s okay, baby. You’re gonna be okay,” he whispers softly into your ear. But you can clearly tell that he doesn’t fully believe the words he is saying.

Jason helps you shift slightly against his chest, trying to make you as comfortable as possible. Looking down, you can see blood still spilling from between his fingers, the crimson puddle tinted with a faint green glow as it grows beneath you. 

“What can I do? There has to be something I can do,” Jason pleads.

“I don’t think there is.” Suddenly, you realize everything seems different, muted. You can no longer see or hear anything clearly beyond this rooftop. Your body feels weaker than it has ever felt before, and not just from the pain or your injury. And when you put all the concentration you can muster into lifting yourself even half an inch off the ground, you can’t even manage to make yourself twitch. Everything that made you special, everything you had inherited from your father is just… gone.

Leaning your head back against Jason’s neck, you ask, “Is this…. Is this what it feels like?”

“What does what feel like, baby?” he asks, stroking your hair gently.

“To be human?”

The question catches Jason off guard. “Um, I–I don’t know. I guess so.”

“I don’t think I like it very much.” Another shiver of pain washes over you and you bury your face in Jason’s neck, hoping to muffle the moan that rumbles in your throat.

But Jason still hears it. “That’s it. I’m calling your dad.”

“No,” you mutter weakly. “I told you–”

“We don’t have a choice. I don’t know enough about Kryptonite or Kryptonian anatomy to help you, but he does. Don’t you think he would want to help you even if it meant feeling the effects of the Kryptonite?”

You are silent for a moment, but you know that he is right. Your dad would have wanted to be here the second you were hurt, regardless of the danger it might put him in. So, reluctantly, you nod. 

Jason removes his hand from your chest – it hadn’t been doing much to stop the blood flow anyway – and he pulls a phone from his pocket. You allow your eyes to drift closed as you listen to him quickly explain what happened and just moments later, there is a loud thud on the other side of the roof.

Peeling your eyes open, you see the familiar red-and-blue suit reflecting in the dim light. Your dad takes a step forward into the light and you can see the concern and fear etched onto his face as he stares at you, his eyes watery and his breathing uneven. He starts to walk towards you, but he stumbles slightly as the first effects of the Kryptonite hit him. 

He tries to take another step, but you mumble, “Please. Don’t. I don’t want you to get hurt too.” Your words are just barely more than a whisper but even across the distance, you know he hears you clear as day. The reluctance is evident on his face, yet he follows your wishes and remains where he is at.

Jason stares at the Man of Steel, the desperation in his voice as he asks, “What do we do? How do we help her?”

“I-I don’t know,” your dad admits, his voice uncharacteristically shaky. “If there is Kryptonite all through her body like you said, I don’t know how we get it out. Normally, Kryptonite by itself isn’t lethal, but no Kryptonian has been exposed this intimately to this amount. And from what I can see, she’s fading fast.”

“But she’s not just Kryptonian….” Jason whispers, as he gazes down at you. Then his head snaps up, and in a stronger voice says, “Clark, she’s just as human as she is Kryptonian. I don’t think it’s actually the Kryptonite in her veins that’s killing her. It’s the bullets. The Kryptonite just made her lose her healing abilities. So, if we just treat this like any old bullet wound, I think she might be okay.”

Your dad considers for a moment before nodding. “It’s possible, and let’s pray it’s true because it’s her only hope. We need to get those bullets out and then get her to a hospital as quickly as possible.”

Jason nods. “Okay. How do we do that?”

“We get help from the quickest person we know.” He pulls out a device and speaks into it. After only a few words, the rooftop shakes slightly as a gust of wind roars past and when you blink, you see Barry standing there with his usual grin on his face.

“You called?” But the smile slips as he takes in the scene before him. “Oh my god! What happened? Is she alright?”

“No, but we’re hoping you could help with that,” your dad explains. “She was shot three times with Kryptonite bullets, and we need to get them out of her. I can’t do it, but can you?”

Barry nodded. “I think so.” Crossing the rooftop, he kneels down beside you. Even in his bright red suit, you are having trouble focusing on him as your vision begins to blur. But you feel the light pressure as Barry places his hand on your arm. “Hey, Kid.”

“Hey, Skidmark,” you mumble weakly.

Barry chuckles. “I’ll let that slide this time since you’re hurt.” His face turns serious as he adds, “And because what’s about to happen isn’t going to feel great.”

Turning towards Jason, he says, “I need you to hold her as still as possible in case she squirms. It might take me a minute to locate all three bullets and the more she moves, the longer I’ll have to keep searching.” Jason nods and his grip on your shoulders tightens.

Barry positions his fingers just above your wound but hesitates as he glances at your face. You nod slightly and he turns his focus back to your chest. His hand begins to move so quickly, it becomes nothing more than a blur. Then, he moves it lower, phasing it through your chest. 

Instantly, you seize up. The intense vibrations reverberate through your entire body, but the proximity of his fingers to your heart and lungs causes them to freeze. Your eyes roll back in your head as you silently gasp for air. Jason is trying to hold you down but it is difficult when your entire body is spasming violently. You vaguely hear Barry, your dad, and Jason yelling at each other, but you can’t make out a single word they are saying. 

Then, mercifully, the vibrations are gone. All your muscles relax and your head falls limply against Jason’s shoulder as you try to catch your breath. Jason rubs his hand over your hair as he whispers that it’s over and how good you did. You aren’t really sure you did anything, but you are too weak and light-headed to correct him. 

From the other side of the roof, your dad calls out, “Barry, get her to the med bay on the Watchtower. They should be able to treat her there. Then, destroy those bullets.”

Barry nods before holding out his arms and Jason helps to ease your broken form into them. However, just as Barry is about to take off, you feebly stretch your fingers towards Jason. He takes your hand and squeezes it tightly. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

You swallow heavily and force the words to spill from your lips. “I need you to know… if I had known what those bullets were… I still would have taken them for you…No regrets…”

Your hand goes limp in his grasp as the last of your energy is depleted. Leaning forward, Jason gently places your hand on your chest before kissing your forehead. Then, with his lips still hovering just above your skin, he whispers, “I love you. No regrets.”

Stepping back, he nods at Barry. The speedster tightens his hold on you and says, “Hold on.” Then he takes off.

As you feel that familiar initial whoosh of moving at super speed, you finally allow yourself to succumb to the darkness.

Taglist: @nik2blog, @dumb-fawkin-bitch, @zebralover, @lolzghost, @thefictionalcharacterssimp, @venomsvl, @sugarysweetsandpainfulteeth, @your-friendly-neighborhood-al, @hellfire-fan-club, @blue-aconite

#whumpuary #whumpuary 2023 #whumpuaryno3 #shot #2023 year of whump #2023 year of whump january #whispered reassurances #fic #jason todd #jason todd x reader #red hood #red hood x reader #batman #batfam #batfamily #superman #the flash #f!reader #superman's daughter!reader #angst #whump #hurt/comfort #hurt & comfort #bullet wound tw #shot tw #blood tw #pain tw #ambiguous ending tw

[whumpster-dumpster]

"Wha...What happened?"

"It doesn't matter now. Everything's okay, just go back to sleep."

#whump #whump prompt #writing prompt #dialogue prompt #aftermath #caretaking #reassurance #exhaustion #sleep

[whump-they-it-is]

Whumpril

Day 12 {Reassurance} Alt Prompt

Upgrade 2018

#whump #logan marshall green #whumpril2024 #whumpril #day12 #reassurance #upgrade #the vacant look in his eyes is heartbreaking

[marc--chilton]

still losing my mind at the way houses relationship with john would have fucked up the way he sees being an omega. just,,, teen house, young and confused, experiencing these absoloutely brutal heats. not understanding why they are so bad and hard when theyre supposed to be a time where an omega feels good. already feeling broken and wrong, and then having to face john's anger and disappointment over him being an omega

like i can only imagine how it would affect him in heat, a time where he would be less able to think coherently. and constantly remembering how traumatic and horrible his heats as a teen were, the memory making him feel bad and in turn making him feel physically worse. just like,,, a constant feedback loop of remembering and feeling bad -> feeling physically worse in turn -> reminding himself even more of his childhood and feeling worse

i feel like after having to deal with his first few heats without a strong family net to acclimate to the changes, once house is outta there and doing his own thing he tries to never deal with his heats alone. he marks his cycle religiously, makes deals with alphas in med school to help him through them, or even finds street suppressants if he's especially desperate.

man. you just know john has put him outside for some of his heats, too. nothing to nest with, no scent blocking patches, just left him in the yard like a sacrificial lamb. it goes without saying how dangerous that is.

hell, once he's employed i wouldn't be surprised if he stole something from the hospital to bring home in case a heat comes up that he can't deal with, something that'll knock him out for the worst of it.

#asks #certified-moth #house md #writing a fic that is basically just heat whump for a lot of it as i type this #house's heats are bad always it's just how it is for him #but once he has the infarction it's even worse #his leg becomes another focal point for pain to localize to and the scar is so severe that when he's in heat #it runs scary hot. like where the muscle is missing sits just a molten core of pure agony #fainting spells and delirium become new side effects as a result #it is a pathetic miserable sight and he WANTS to be alone so no one can see him like that #but dealing with them alone is torture so he just doesn't win. it fucks with his issues of self #something else to resent about his body #he and wilson develop a fairly solid unofficial........ thing early on in their friendship #it would have taken wilson more convincing had he not witnessed the effects himself and got his caretaker heart twanging #even when he's married. which doesn't necessarily mean he's cheating but uh. it doesn't help in his case #all of it compounds into a very big mess that does not help the success rates of his marriages #goes to show how much more time wilson spends with house than his wives when he's more synced with house than them #now THAT is an offense. THAT'S what can get feelings hurt #it makes him feel bad but he tries to reassure himself by comparing their heats to house's. they don't understand how bad it is #<- probably the cause of several arguments #wilson trying to get bonnie or julie to understand why he Needs to do this and bristling when they Just Don't Get It #“house didn't break up our marriage but he sure didn't help” etc #mgv

[rainbowsandwhumperflies]

The Winged Servant - 7

cws: minor character death, panic attack, multiple whumpers, some comfort from whumper, let me know if I'm missing anything!

masterlist

I was outside.

Not outside outside. I was locked in the trunk of a van, because my wings hadn’t fit when I’d been put in the backseat. But it was still- I had left the house for the first time I could remember. And it had rained earlier, or I assumed so, because I could hear the wheels splashing in the mud and I could smell the earthy rain smell. Pet… Pet something. Peticore? That wasn’t right.

Regardless, I was grateful to be taken outside. I would've voiced my gratitude until my voice was scratchy if I hadn't been told to keep myself silent.

The princes, in the backseat of the van, kept whispering. They were quiet enough that I couldn't hear what they were saying, but occasionally I thought I heard my name. The princes discussed me frequently, but not usually… like this. Outside and on our way to god knew where—except, actually, they knew where.

The car rolled to a stop, and there was a lot more whispering, this time with plenty of voices I didn't recognize. There were more cars than the one that I’d been put in, I was almost sure, but no one had told me how many.

Eventually someone grabbed me and pulled me out of the car, onto the muddy ground.

Petrichor. That’s what it was. Petrichor, the smell of the wet earth after it’d rained. It’d been a while, but it smelled nice. I’d missed it.

"Focus, idiot," the Queen muttered in front of me, and I winced, nodding. Obviously I hadn't been brought here just to gawk; things needed to be done. "Do you see that doorway over there?" She gestured to an area behind me, and I blinked. I wasn't sure how I'd missed it before.

Two women stood in front of a stone arch—the entrance to something. A castle, maybe? There wasn't a door, but clearly whatever was inside was important. The women were guarding it. Swords and guns hung at their sides.

"I need you to go over there," Her Majesty continued, "and tell them that you're a scout from the angel negotiation team."

"The… what?"

"Angel negotiation team. You don't need to know what it is, so long as you can spit the words out at them. Say that you want to speak to King Kieran. Understand?"

"Yes, Your Majesty, but I thought this country didn’t have a king," I said, and she rolled her eyes.

"That doesn't matter, Onyx. You just have to memorize the words. Can you do that, or do I have to get someone else to do every little thing for you?"

"Angel negotiation team," I repeated, enunciating every syllable. "King Kieran. Yes, Your Majesty. I can do that." I had already been punished once tonight. I couldn’t take- I had to be able to do the rest of this right.

"Good." She pushed me away from the car, away from a tree that I hadn't noticed we were hiding behind, and into the eyesight of the guards.

"Hello?" one called, and I stumbled closer.

"Hello, Ma’am, I-" Was I supposed to give them my name? "I'm Onyx. I'm a, a scout for the… angel negotiation team?"

One of the guards had a long ponytail with purple tips. She looked pretty, and also she looked like she didn't believe me for a second. "Right. And why are you here in the middle of the night? By yourself?"

"I, um." The queen hadn't told me what to say if I was asked questions. "Can I speak with the king? King Kieran?"

Someone was behind her, someone that I could see but was out of the guards’ line of sight as long as no one turned around. It was a stranger, or- not quite a stranger, because they’d been there when I was being put in the van in the first place, but not someone I knew. The guard with purple hair stared at me, noticed my eyes fixed behind her, and started to turn around when-

The stranger ran a sword clean through the woman with purple hair. Her eyes widened for a moment before she fell to the ground.

I stood there, frozen, while the other guard tried to pull a weapon out. Her efforts didn’t matter. The stranger hit her on the back of the head with a sword, and she crumpled to the ground.

Prince Cardan seemed to materialize from nowhere, stepping out from behind something. He laughed, the sound echoing in the night, but the purple haired girl didn't stir at the noise.

I'd had wounds in my torso before. I'd bled a lot before, but I'd never had a blade go all the way through me.

The queen wouldn't use me as an accomplice to murder, would she? Without telling me what was going to happen?

(She would. She would, she'd do whatever she needed because she was more important than the rest of us and we all knew it, but she wouldn't really-)

A hand clapped me on the back, and only my training kept me from screaming. It was Cardan, just Prince Cardan, laughing and congratulating me on my part in the murder of this woman. Prince Cardan was happy, Prince Ryan was high fiving him—they were happy, right? This was a good thing, this was not immoral, even Her Majesty looked pleased with me.

(The guard would not look pleased with anyone, ever again.)

But it didn’t matter, did it? I would have died for Her Majesty, if she’d asked. I wouldn’t want to die, of course, but I would have, for any member of the royal family. And if the royal family was happy that this person was dead, then that was how it was supposed to be, and I should be happy about it too. Maybe she was a traitor. Maybe she was a murderer, or, or… something. Maybe she had done something to deserve this. And it didn’t matter even if she didn’t, because the royal family didn’t need excuses to justify carrying out their will.

“Onyx?”

Someone was saying my name. I should bow. I should respond and ask what I could do to help. I should- fuck. I couldn’t move. I had sat down on the floor, at some point, and I didn’t know when, and I needed to do my duties and I couldn’t move.

“C’mon, Onyx, you’re alright.” My elbows were grabbed, and I was pulled to my feet, and I tried to focus on the voice in front of me. “You’re fine.”

“I’m, I’m sorry, Your,” was that Prince Ryan?, “Your Highness.”

“Mhm. I know you can be… fragile, sometimes, but you need to get it together right now. Especially because the guns are going to be loud. We’re not using guns at the moment, because we don’t want them to know we’re here yet, but we’re going to, and they’re going to be loud, and you’re a good servant but you’re not exactly known for your quick and clever responses to things.”

“I’m sorry, I’m- my apologies, Your, Your-” I couldn’t focus and the words weren’t coming out the way I wanted them too and-

“Okay. See, this is what I mean. Breathe. Calm down. Just stay on your feet, okay? Stay on your feet, and stay behind me, and you’ll be okay. Can you do that?”

I nodded frantically, and Prince Ryan tilted my chin up to meet his eyes. He wasn’t shaking like I was, but his eyes were wider than normal, and I wondered if he was scared too.

“It’ll be better, once we’re done with this,” he said quietly, his voice slightly strained in a way I hadn’t heard before. “You’ll have a better room and an easier schedule and I’ll get Cardan something of his own so that you won’t have to deal with him anymore. But we’ve gotta get through tonight. Okay?”

Most of those words didn’t matter to me. All that could ever matter to me was finding where in the sentence the command was. Get through tonight. Get through tonight. “Yes, Your Highness.”

~

taglist (lmk if you'd like to be added/removed): @kaleidoscope-of-thoughts @toyybox @rainydaywhump

#WHEW this one is fun #rainbow's whump #rainbow's ocs #whump writing #first person pov #onyx tag #ryan tag #lucia tag #the winged servant #cardan tag #the nameless characters have no tags sorry #okok favorite detail time. this time it's onyx's script slipping in his inner dialogue as he gets upset #calling lucia 'the queen' instead of 'her majesty' #and correcting himself from 'cardan' to 'prince cardan' even though it's not out loud #another good detail though is that even when ryan is trying to reassure onyx he refers to him as an object #'i'll get cardan something of his own' because ryan does care about onyx but it's in a sick and twisted and dehumanizing way