#say goodbye | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

topguncortez · 2 years

Text

Day 3: Hairs breadth from death ➢prompt: Say Goodbye ➢Character: Tom 'Iceman' Kazansky ➢warnings: death, cancer, coughing up blood, dying, cannon character death ➢word count: 3k

|| masterlist || whumptober || whumptober masterlist || library page ||

There were three times in her life where Y/N braced to lose the love of her life. The first was back in 1995. Y/N could remember that night so clearly. She had been asleep when she heard him start coughing. Tom was laying on his back, and rolled over onto his side, as he coughed. He inhaled sharply, trying to cough up whatever was sitting right in his throat. It felt like he was choking on something, but he couldn’t even think of what. He hit his chest a couple times as he swung his legs over the side of the bed to sit up straight. The movement caused Y/N to sit up, and rub her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” She mumbled, rubbing her husband’s back.

“I-” Tom could hardly say anything through his hacking. He turned on his bedside lamp, and reached for a tissue as he felt his body hack something up. Y/N looked over his shoulder as he stared in horror at the blood on the tissue.

“Oh my god,” She exclaimed, and moved off the bed, running to his side. Tom’s lapse in coughing only lasted for a bit, before it picked up again, and red speckles of spit hit the white tissue, “I’m calling 9-1-1.”

“No! It’ll wake the kids,” He wheezed out.

“You’re coughing up blood, Tom!” Y/N cried, as she picked up the receiver and dialed for help, “Hello? My husband is coughing up blood. . .”

The kids had woken up at the sounds of their parents being awake. Y/N instructed their son, Jack and their daughter, Lyla to stay in their rooms while she ran down to the front door to let the paramedics in. She led them up to the bedroom, where Tom was still sitting on the bed, blood on his shirt and hands. Jack had cracked the door slightly, so he and Lyla could see what was going on.

“I don’t know what’s going on, he just started this,” Y/N said frantically. The medic nodded, and walked over to Tom, asking him a bunch of questions, while Y/N stood in the corner of the room, her husband’s blood still on her hands. She didn’t even realize Jack and Lyla were up until they came running over to her. She did her best to try and cover them from seeing what was going on, but they could still see everything.

“We need to take him to the hospital. You are welcome to ride with us,” The medic said.

“Stay. . . with the. . .kids,” Tom coughed out, wincing in pain.

“Okay, we’ll meet you there,” Y/N said, and kissed her husband’s forehead, as they took him out of the house on a gurney, “You’ll be okay.”

“What’s going on with daddy?” Lyla cried as she reached for her mother. Y/N picked up Lyla and held Jack’s hands as they walked down the hallway with the medics. Tom looked exhausted as he kept coughing, and they placed an oxygen mask on his face. He gave his wife a small smile and she blew him a kiss.

“I don’t know sweetheart,” Y/N said, trying to keep tears out of her eyes, “Let’s go, come on, we gotta meet him there.”

Y/N waited in the waiting room while the doctors were back looking at Tom. The kids hadn’t asked about what was wrong with their father, both a little tired and scared. Jack had seen the most of it, the look on his dad’s face as he coughed up blood, and the look on his mother’s face as she tried to calm down his dad. Y/N hated waiting, she had always been the wife in the waiting room and she had grown to hate it. However, Tom stopped going on the dangerous missions when they had Lyla and he got promoted to Admiral. The last time she really worried about him was back in 1986, when he was deployed right after TOPGUN.

Tom tried to push the doctors away when he got to the hospital, after they gave him a nebulizer in the ambulance. He tried pulling the “I’m an Admiral” card, but it was useless when his wife was in the room too. Tom tried to brush it off, like it was a normal occurrence to wake up coughing up blood, but it was because he was terrified of what it meant. Was he dying? Was he sick? Was this going to ruin his career? He was just getting to the higher ranks of where he wanted to be. He couldn’t just stop now, but the death glare his wife was giving him was saying otherwise.

“You need to get the test done,” Y/N said, crossing her arms over her chest, “It’s a simple scope to see what’s going on.”

“Nothing is going on!” He yelled.

“Fine, if not for me, do it for Jack and Lyla. They saw you last night Tommy, and it terrified them. Please, just get the test.”

Tom sighed and looked down at his hands, “What if it ends my career? What if it grounds me forever? You heard what they said, Y/N, it was a spasm from the dry air. No blood clots, no obstructions. Just need to be on vocal rest like I’m Madonna or some shit.”

Y/N giggled, and moved from the chair she was sitting in, and curled up in bed next to him. Tom sighed as he put his arm around her and pulled her into his chest. He kissed the top of her forehead, and rested his cheek on the top of his head.

“If this happens again. . . you’re getting that damn scope down your throat, even if I have to do it myself.”

“Ah, my sexy little nurse, huh?” Y/N smacked his chest at his comment, which caused him to cough again.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry,” She said, lifting her head up, but couldn’t help but giggle.

“You think it’s funny?” Tom asked, a smile on his face. She tried to suppress her laughter, but it was no use. They both fell into a fit of laughter as they laid in the hospital room.

Y/N had almost forgotten about that night in 1995. Tom had moved past it after spending almost a week off of work. Just as Jack and Lyla grew, so did Tom’s career. Tom was promoted to commander of the pacific fleet in 2006, which was the same year that Jack had graduated high school and headed for the academy. Tom was so proud to have his son following right in his footsteps. He’ll never admit it outloud, but he shed a tear as he dropped Jack off at college.

2006 was also the year that Tom started coughing up blood again. He tried to hide it from Y/N, but Lyla had given him up. She had spotted the bloody tissues, and could hear him coughing in his office. Y/N reminded him of the promise he made years ago, and made him an appointment to go see the doctor (she might’ve had to bribe him with a promise of a sexy nurse outfit). She sat in the waiting room, tapping her foot anxiously as she waited for his doctor to come get him.

Tom truly believed there was nothing wrong. That this was like what happened in 1995. But he didn’t expect for them to tell him he had cancer. It was like a bomb had been dropped, he heard the ringing in his ears as the doctor talked about treatment options, chemo, radiation, potential surgery.

“Wait,” Tom said, snapping out of his trance, “How will this affect my career?”

“Are you serious right now?” Y/N asked, turning to him, “Tom, you just got diagnosed with cancer and you’re worried about your career?”

“Answer the question, doc,” Tom said, completely ignoring Y/N’s statement.

“Short term? Yes, you will need to have chemo radiation done to help shrink the cancer, and then probably surgery. Long term? We don’t know. This cancer is aggressive, and is known to return. You can be in remission for years, and then it comes back and it’s. . . everywhere.” The doctor said.

“What do we do?” Y/N asked, and grabbed her husband’s hand.

“Well, we will get you in touch with our oncology department, get some more tests, and start chemo. Admiral Kazansky, is that something you want to do?”

Tom looked up from his hands, and looked at the doctor. He never imagined that he would be 45 years old, becoming commander of the pacific fleet, and being diagnosed with cancer all in the same year. He had only been in the position for six months. But he had more than his career to think about. He had his kids, even though Jack was at the academy and Lyla was in high school, he still couldn’t leave them behind. And Y/N. . . it would break her apart to lose him.

“I’ll fight,” Tom said.

It was the worst six months of his life. Trying to battle cancer, and be the commander. He had told his command team what was going on, but had no intention of slowing down. They made sure to keep on top of everything, being able to fill in where he needed the help. Y/N was by his side through it all, from rubbing his back when he threw up, to taking him to every doctor's appointment. Telling the kids was the hardest part. Lyla cried in her dad’s arms, and Jack thought back to that night in 1995. Tom assured his kids he was going to beat it, that he was going to be around for a long time.

It was the spring of 2007, that Tom had entered in remission, after two rounds of chemo and surgery to remove part of his lung. He was determined to get right back to work, even picking up another deployment as the commander. Y/N was happy to have her husband back to good health, seeing the smile on his face as he was given yet another award. She thought it was all going to be perfect. That she was going to live a long healthy life with Tom Kazansky by her side.

She didn’t need to be told the cancer was back, she could just tell by the look on his face. He gave her a sad smile, and Y/N pushed the tears away as she walked over to him. He pulled her into his lap, and rested his chin on her shoulder.

“Love-”

“No,” Y/N said, and shook her head, “You’re gonna be okay. You beat it before, and you can do it again. And we are right here with you.”

“You know what they-”

“I know, but doctors get stuff wrong,” Y/N said, and kissed his cheek, “We’re gonna be okay.”

Tom had said that if the cancer was to ever come back that he didn’t want to do chemo again. Those months of losing weight, losing his hair, vomiting, his skin drying out and being in pain was enough to endure once, he wasn’t about to do it again. Y/N respected his choice, even though she didn’t agree, she knew it was up to him.

The day that she could tell he was in pain while talking, was the day she went out and bought him an ipad. He hated it, he’d rather be able to actually talk, than use some device, but he also couldn’t take the pain of trying to speak. The only time he would talk was when he was laying in bed next to Y/N, and it was barely above a whisper.

“Mav is. . . in trouble. . .” Ice said as Y/N was working in the garden.

“Oh no, who did he piss off this time?”

“Another admiral,” Tom opted to use the text to speech feature on his ipad, “Bringing him here.”

“Does he know?” Y/N looked up at her husband. Tom shook his head, and looked down at his feet. Y/N sighed, walking up to the deck, “Well, are we placing bets on how long he is gonna last under Simpson’s command?” Tom laughed and shook his head.

“He can’t get in trouble. No more saves.”

“Can you tell me about what he is doing?” Tom shook his head and held his finger to his lips. Y/N scoffed and rolled her eyes playfully, “You would think after spending the past 30 years as a naval officer I could finally get an inside scoop, Admiral.” Ice still shrugged, and lifted his head up to kiss her.

Maverick had been at TOPGUN for all of a week before Ice got a call about him from Admiral Simpson. Ice and Y/N both knew that it was time to invite Maverick over and talk to him. Y/N had managed to get some more information out of her husband, and found out about the mission and the fact that both Jack and Bradley were going to be a part of it. She wasn’t all too thrilled that her actual son, and the boy who might as well be her son were on the team and Ice didn’t tell her. But she knew it was for the best.

“Y/N,” Maverick said as Y/N opened the door. He greeted her with a hug and a kiss on her cheek, “It’s been a while.”

“It has,” She sighed, and Maverick looked at her.

“It’s come back?” He asked. Y/N bit her lip and nodded, tears in her eyes. She looked up at him, and Maverick felt his heart fall in his chest.

“No one knows but the kids and me,” Y/N said, “There’s nothing else they can do. Even speaking is now too painful for him to do.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry,” Maverick said, and pulled her in for a tight hug. It was the first time she told someone other than her kids what was going on. It felt like a slight weight off her shoulders as she cried in Maverick’s arms. They pulled away from each other and she wiped the tears from her cheeks.

“He’s in his office,” Y/N said and Maverick nodded before going down to see him. She let out a sigh, and looked out into the backyard, seeing her grandkids running around and went to join them.

It was only a day after that meeting with Maverick, that things seemed to go downhill with Ice’s health. He had woken up again, coughing up blood and in severe pain. Y/N had called their on-call doctor to come over and help. The doctor had told her that this was the moment they had been dreading. The moment where everything shifted from “what can we do to help him?” to “how can we keep him comfortable?” Y/N had let out a sob as she stood in the hallway outside her bedroom.

“He’s asking for you,” A nurse said, and Y/N looked up at the doctor.

“Y/N, we knew this was coming. . .” The doctor said, “It’s time to say goodbye.”

Y/N nodded and the doctor squeezed her shoulder, before leaving her in the hallway. She took a deep breath and wiped her eyes before heading into the bedroom. Ice laid still in bed, his eyes closed, and his breathing shallow. The nurse had given him some morphine for the pain, and he was peacefully sleeping.

Y/N closed the door softly, and walked over to her side of the bed, crawling in next to him. Ice stirred slightly, moving his arm so she could come into his side. She softly laid her head on his chest, and placed her hand on his still beating heart.

They laid in silence before Ice cleared his throat. Y/N lifted her head up and looked at him, his blue eyes fluttering open briefly, before closing.

“I’m. . . sorry. . .” He said softly.

“For what, Tommy?”

“This. . .”

Y/N gave him a smile, and gently caressed his face, “It’s not your fault. There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

“You. . . want. . . forever. . .”

“I said I want forever as long as it is with you. And you did just that,” Y/N said, “It’s okay, Tommy. You gave me everything I could’ve ever asked for. You gave me love when I didn’t think I deserved it. You gave me two of the most beautiful children I have ever seen. You gave me this beautiful house. You gave me everything, Tommy, and so much more.”

“I. . . want. . .longer. . .” Tom breathed out, a tear falling down his cheek. Y/N wiped the tear from his cheek, and held his face gently in her hand.

“I know, and I do too,” Y/N said, tears now running down her cheeks, “We both deserve longer. But this isn’t the end of the book, it’s just the end of the chapter. It’s only temporary. We’ll be together forever, real soon.”

“Not. . . too soon. . .” Tom opened his eyes again, and looked at her. He slowly moved his hand to her cheek, and caressed her cheekbone with his thumb. She leaned in and kissed his lips softly, and then his forehead, before laying back down on his chest.

“I love you,” Y/N said, as she listened to the slowing sound of his heart.

“I love you,” Tom breathed out, and Y/N felt the rise and fall of his chest stop.

349 notes · View notes

livingforthewhump · 2 years

Text

Whumptober No 3.

Gun to Temple|“Say Goodbye”|Impaled

“Whumpee!” Caretaker yelled, looking around desperately in between fighting off opponents. They’d lost sight of them in the fight. One moment Whumpee was right next to them, and the next—

“Drop your weapons.” Whumper’s voice cut cold and clear above the sound of violence, drawing the team’s attention as his lackeys drew back. As soon as Caretaker’s eyes fell on Whumper, their blood ran cold.

Whumpee was disarmed, a trickle of blood running down their forehead and into their dazed looking eyes. Whumper stood triumphant behind them, one arm looped around Whumpee’s chest and the other pressing a gun to their temple.

The sound of Caretaker’s weapon hitting the floor echoed in the room.

Whumper smirked at them, but they couldn't bring themself to be annoyed. Not when they were so terrified.

“Your friend here has the right idea,” Whumper drawled, looking over at Leader. “Do you really value Whumpee that little?”

“Let them go,” Leader growled, starting forward but stopping when multiple weapons immediately got pointed at them.

“That’s not on the table.” Their voice was cold, too loud in the empty space. “Your options are: drop your weapons, or say goodbye.”

It only took a few seconds for Leader to lean down, setting their weapon onto the floor. The rest of the team followed suit. And Whumper said, “Seize them.”

The henchmen closed in, and Whumper cracked the barrel of the gun against Whumpee’s head, catching them easily as their eyes rolled back into their head and their legs crumpled.

Leader and Caretaker shouted in protest.

“What are you doing?” Caretaker yelled, thrashing in their restraints.

Whumper gave them an appraising look before turning their attention elsewhere. “Leader, it would do you well to control your soldiers.”

Caretaker’s lips pulled up in a snarl, but Leader was as calm as ever. “What are you doing with Whumpee?” they demanded.

Whumper exhaled through their nose. “Isn’t it obvious?” Their lips stretched into a cruel smile.

“I’m keeping them.”

#whumptober2022 #no.3 #gun to temple #say goodbye #oc #whump prompt #gun violence #death threats #this one is short sorry

211 notes · View notes

shipperpersempre · 26 days

Text

Ballum Part 5 - Ben & Callum Say Goodbye… Callum Promises To Wait For Ben!

youtube

#eastenders #callum highway #ben mitchell #say goodbye #ballum #Youtube

7 notes · View notes

acupofqueercoffee · 2 years

Text

“Love and hate, how much more are we supposed to tolerate?”

whumptober 2022 // Ambessa Medarda x Reader

ao3 — https://archiveofourown.org/works/42234144

There lives a cat in the neighbouring establishment. A chubby chunk of golden fluffiness oozing charisma, I usually take it on myself to caress and play with her.

In the beginning, she does not appear too keen on garnering my attention, but as time goes by, every time I make a move to scratch behind her little ears, she will readily tilt her head, putting her head rather eagerly into the palm of my hand. Then, she will happily revel in the attention as I proceed to rub beneath her soft little chin.

In all honesty, the cat does not leave a lasting impression on my mind. When I am elsewhere, I do not think of the cat. Nor do I mention the cat in the conversations with my friends.

Not once, even in passing, does the cat flash through my mind as I go about my day. Nevertheless, every time I return home, or whenever I cross paths with her on my way out, almost always, I will indulge the creature.

There are times when I am in rather a hurry. Believing that I am about to shower her with belly rubs and ear scratches, the cat tends to meow expectantly at me every time her obsidian, marble-like eyes lock onto me. On such days when I have a lot on my plate, I will whip past her with only an acknowledgment thrown her way, often even forgoing the gesture and disregarding her existence altogether.

Even though I have no place for the cat in my head, I wonder if the cat on the other hand thinks of me otherwise, or perhaps it is possible that she, too, enjoys the moment while it lasts, but carries me in her mind no more beyond our few interactions.

It gets me ruminating on the subject.

What if, contrary to my earlier assumption, the cat does in fact look forward to seeing me every day?

How will she feel, I ask myself, when she realises that despite her calling for me, I have wilfully ignored her?

Will it hurt her to understand that she is as important to me as a piece of fodder?

Before now, I have no way of knowing.

But, I think I have come to understand how the cat may have been feeling.

I am presently living the life of the cat.

While she has only but quenched her own thirst by humouring me, I have been a fool to mistake a fleeting fancy on her part as an everlasting craving.

Only the most foolish of fools could have dared harbour the feeble hope that someone who thinks nothing of them, someone who have no place for them in her life would waste her affections on them.

Such fool is me.

Who else can I blame but myself?

Turning a deaf ear to my brain’s cautious reminders only to naïvely pursue my juvenile heart.

“Do you think sweetmeats are meant to be consumed on a daily basis? Do people?”

She has asked me out of the blue.

“I don’t think so. My confectionery receives familiar faces but only once in a while.”

My eyes have moved from staring straight ahead into particularly nothing onto studying the valleys and mountains of her face.

“I do however have one patron who frequents the shop. I find it peculiar because she doesn’t strike me as someone with a sweet tooth.”

“Looks, little one, can be deceiving. Do you still remember what I’ve said to you during our first meeting?”

“How can I forget?”

“Contrary to what my appearance likes to suggest, I am not immune to pretty things. Nor am I unsusceptible to sweet stuffs.” so she has said.

“Ever since your first visit, you have come here almost every day. And yet, to this day, I’ve never seen you ingest anything close to sweets. It only fuels my suspicions when I find you one day throwing your purchases away.”

“Hmm…so you were aware. One may declare themselves a possessor of massive sweet tooth, but can they confidently say that sweets are all they need to survive? After all, not only can too much sweetness do more harm than good to your body, they also do not give you any real sustenance. They are merely titbits to occasionally indulge oneself in.”

“This is no longer strictly about the sweetmeats, is it?”

“Ever the brightest girl.”

“Lady Medarda, why exactly do you keep coming here if not for the confectionery?”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head. It will change after today. In fact, everything will. But, to answer your question, do you really have no idea?”

“What do you mean?”

“I am going away.”

“What? Where? How long?”

“Far. Indefinitely.”

“And? Why are you telling me this?”

“For once, I don’t have an answer. I think when all is said and done, I want you to at least be aware that I am not here for the sweetmeats, but for the person who is behind their creation.”

“And will knowing it change anything?”

“Frankly, I don’t believe so. As pretty a sight as sweetmeats are to feast my eyes upon, I must accept that they come with damaging risks. I, as a person with more foes than friends, cannot afford a thorn in my flesh.”

If I tell you that I use to hate her guts, will you find it believable?

I do wonder at times when does the line between love and hate become but a blur?

Where does hate really end and love truly begin?

One thing I do know is that before I know it, I have started hanging onto her every word like a clingy little kitten.

How much of what she has said have been the truths and how much, the lies?

Then, when she hugs me suddenly, and my body is cradled close to her chest, I have half the mind to believe that buried in all those lies is at least a truth somewhere, or perhaps mixed between a few truths are lies everywhere.

“I have been taught that the only real effective way to deal with your weaknesses is to get rid of them once and for all. A wolf, after all, is never known to be merciful.”

But at the end of the day, as I lie motionless on the frozen ground, the only source of warmth coming from the gradually increasing pool of my own blood, I decide how ironic it is that the hands that, once upon a time, have breathed life into me have essentially become the very ones that have all the intentions of plucking it right out of me.

“Say goodbye.”

Will you think me crazy when I confess to you that while being cocooned in her surprisingly gentle arms, even taking a knife to the chest has felt more like a triumph than a downfall.

#whumptober2022 #no.3 #say goodbye #impaled #arcane #arcane ambessa #ambessa medarda #ambessa medarda x reader #ambessa x reader #fic #ficlet #fanfic #character x reader #metaphor #love hate #complicated

127 notes · View notes

iamthecrime · 4 months

Text

#future islands #say goodbye #people who aren't there anymore #music

6 notes · View notes

zombiepigeon · 1 year

Text

ok so I absolutely love the idea of Chase, Henrik, and c!Jack being a trio of besties before The Accident but consider:

On October 31st, Chase and Henrik were driving to pick Jack up (man got no license). When they arrived at the apartments, Chase called Jack's phone so he would come down.

Jack heard his phone ring. He heard it, and couldn't respond. He was staring at the camera, his arm (hand holding the knife) moving on its own.

#jacksepticeye #jse egos #dr schneeplestein #chase brody #say goodbye #jacksepticegos

57 notes · View notes

septic-dr-schneep · 1 year

Text

#jacksepticeye #antisepticeye #say goodbye #overnight watch #kill jacksepticeye #dark silence #quit the game to win #darkiplier vs antisepticeye #IRIS #poll

76 notes · View notes

socialbutterfly19 · 7 months

Text

Strike the match… walk away from everything and don’t look back Timing is everything

#say goodbye #don’t look back #fake people #no trust

30 notes · View notes

music-catalogue · 17 days

Text

#say goodbye #lostboyjay #billy raffoul #pop music #music blog #music tumblr #music recommendation #music #musicblr #musicislife #good music #spotify #music lovers #Spotify

4 notes · View notes

oddsconvert · 2 years

Text

Day Three: "A Hair's Breadth from Death"

Gun to temple | "Say Goodbye" | Impaled

Whumptober Masterlist!

CW: Corrupt Caretaker, Numb/Vengeful/unhinged Whumpee, Whumpee turned whumper, whumper turned whumpee, guns, death threat, revenge, begging, pistol whipping, blood, implied kidnapping/captivity/torture, ambiguous/implied character death, adult language

@whumptober

"Whumpee-"

Hollow eyes, devoid of life, flit up to stare into Caretaker's. Eyes that have seen a thousand horrors. So numb, so exhausted. The fire raging within them long extinguished, leaving a pitch-black darkness and snuffing out all the light.

Caretaker presses the muzzle of the gun deeper into Whumper's temple, their finger hooking just around the trigger. Eager to pull it, to blow the bastard's brains out and finally put an end to Whumpee's suffering.

Close this chapter of their life and help them turn the page to the next.

"Say goodbye to Whumper."

Caretaker grins from ear to ear, their fist coiling in Whumper's hair and tugging it as they groan out, pulling at their handcuffs, thrashing about. Their knees grind into the rough stone beneath them, and all they can see is Whumpee standing dead ahead. That same soulless look about them.

Judge, jury and executioner.

"Fuck! No!" Whumper bellows, wildly swinging their head in an attempt to pull away from the gun. They resign and stare up to Whumpee's looming frame, towering above them.

It's weird. It's too fucking weird for Whumpee to have all the power, and Whumper to be begging on his knees. Like the poles of the earth have swapped, the laws of nature have vanished - and now he's bottom of the food chain.

"I'm sorry, okay? Is that what you want to hear? Oh come on, Whumpee. You don't want this!

A nervous twitch flickers in Whumpee's eye as they stare down at their captor. Squeezing their fists with rage. The audacity of them to beg and bargain, after they refused Whumpee's pleas time and time again.

"No…" Whumpee mumbles to themselves, a montone grumble, looking to Caretaker and the gun in his hands, "It's too quick. Give me the gun."

Caretaker falters for a moment, his hand curling defensively around the handle, wanting to keep Whumpee's hands clean of any blood.

But this is their pain, their life that's been stolen and torn apart. They should be the one to do this. They hand it over, and Whumpee near enough snatches it.

"You can be the better person in all this" Whumper pipes up, panic clear in his voice, "Walk away victorious, head held high knowing that you bested me. You escaped my clutches. Bravo. We'll never meet again."

"If I do that, I walk away as a victim. As nothing. Because of you. I won by chance. I won't let anyone else lose to you."

Whumpee crouches down before Whumper, dropping to one knee, using the muzzle of the gun to lift Whumper's chin high in the air, exposing their bobbing Adam's apple as they swallow thick nerves.

The barrel travels over Whumper's wobbling lips, he stays deathly still, his breathing rabbit fast. Whumpee slowly stuffs the gun into his mouth, the muzzle grinding against his teeth, metal resting on his tongue as he whines around the gun, squeezing his eyes shut. But he lets it happen, not wanting to anger Whumpee - playing along with the little power trip they're on.

"I think I've been the better person for long enough. I've sat quietly and let you do whatever you want to me. I screamed when you wanted me to. I cried when you asked me to, I begged for something, anything, when I had nothing."

Whumper shuffles uncomfortably on his knees at that comment, knowing he's entirely at his prisoners mercy right now. Whumpee rises to his height, scoffing at the pathetic sight before them.

They're stomach churning when they see themselves in the poor excuse of a man knelt at their feet.

"Why shouldn't you suffer for once?"

The second the words left their lips, Whumpee felt all the built up rage spill over. All the hatred and despair, charging the brutal blow that Whumpee brings down on Whumper's skull with the butt of the gun. Thwacking him over the head and ignoring the cries of pain, the splitting skin and pooling blood seeping out with each swing.

There's no stopping, it's relentless and it's unleashed something malevolent within him. Even when Whumper is a gasping heap on the floor, flinching and crying out with each hit. A splitting headache ripping through his skull, warm blood gushing out as Whumpee carries on their onslaughting attack.

And Caretaker lets it happen. Stands idly by and watching. Until Whumpee decides they've had enough, Whumper is sufficiently hurt and terrified, laying on their side and heaving for breath they can't draw in. Trembling.

"I've said and done my piece. Put him out of his misery" Whumpee chucks the gun over to Caretaker, just catching it before it clatters on the ground.

With a nod to Caretaker, the gun clicks off safety. The sound so small but feels deafening when Whumper hears it, jumping at the sound and their eyes darting up, growing wide with fearful realisation.

"You owe this to them, Whumper. You took Whumpee away from their life. Now they get to take yours from you."

"Wait-!"

Whumpee exhales a deep sigh of relief.

"Goodbye, Whumper."

Drabble taglist: @whatwasmyprevioususername @whumpsday @sparrowsage @whumperfully @wolves-and-winters @ha-ha-one @mannerofwhump @no-terms-and-conditions-apply

89 notes · View notes