#whumptember day 6
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"I didn't do this."
Day 6: Framed | Bloody clothes | Behind bars • Masterlist •
Warnings: Blood, stabbing, past conditioning.
Whumpee hugged Caretaker's body, limbs trembling in their arms. This wasn't supposed to happen. They couldn't go after Whumper—leaving Caretaker alone was out of the question.
They pressed against the bleeding wound, ignoring the warm blood spreading through their clothes and the sticky feeling causing them to tremble as their skin touched the wet fabric.
"Hands up," a cold voice came after Whumpee didn't know how much time had passed.
"They will die," Whumpee shouted, a sob escaping. "I can't leave them."
"You've harmed them enough," Whumper shouted, freezing Whumpee with their tone. "Let. Them. Go."
Whumpee cursed, pressing on the wound even harder. That voice couldn't command them anymore. Whumpee wouldn't obey them.
"Put your hands up and let us help you," the cold voice said again.
"I didn't do this!" Whumpee cried. Whumper was there, standing right next to the police, but Whumpee couldn't think of anything else as Whumper played innocent, framing them like—
They felt Caretaker move, just a little, but it was still a movement. They wanted to reassure Caretaker, but someone pulled them back.
"Help them," they begged, their voice raw as they fell to their knees with a hushed plea. They didn't resist when they were handcuffed, and paramedics took Caretaker away.
Their surroundings blurred into one another as Whumpee wept, fear caging their mind. They wouldn't be there when Caretaker woke up.
If they woke up, a treacherous thought wormed its way into their mind, sirens in the background taking over their senses with a harsh push from their side.
"Stop crying and get out," a police officer snarled. Whumpee wanted to comply, and they tried, but it only made their body shake with sobs, their legs buckled beneath them.
"I told you to shut up." The police officer pushed them out, and Whumpee was not prepared for the kick that followed, their vision fading with the sharp pain.
They jerked with it, finding themselves between gray walls, much like—
"Finally awake. The police must have hit you pretty hard."
Whumpee turned their head, with the cell bars serving as a grounding change from Whumper basement.
"You're lucky that the guy you stabbed is alive. That's likely to lower your sentence significantly." The guard hit the bars twice.
Whumpee took a deep breath.
Caretaker was alive.
#whump#whump writing#whumptember 2023#whumptember day 6#day six: I didn't do this#day six: framed#day six: bloody clothes#day six: behind the bars#blood#tw stabbing#past conditioning
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Whumptember day 6
“I didn’t do this”
Checking for a pulse | Bloody clothes | Behind bars
“I didn’t do this. I didn’t–I would never–!”
Whumpee couldn’t remember the last few hours of their life. They’d been feeling awful, starving and week, but unable to stomach even a mouthful of food. They remembered that Caretaker had offered to come over and cook for them. They could smell the lingering scent of it in the air, fading and overpowered by the stench of blood.
Whumpee could do little but stare, eyes locked on Caretaker’s body. They were on their back, body limp and crumbled onto the floor. They weren’t moving, they weren’t moving, laying still with a small trickle of blood dripping from two puncture wounds on their neck.
Whumpee could taste blood on their lips, thick and nauseating and sweet. It filled their senses, staining their mouth and dripping onto their shirt. And yet it was utterly inconceivable that they’d been responsible for this. It was insanity, something out of a horror film. It was impossible that Whumpee would attack Caretaker, let alone bite them.
And yet the gnawing hunger and weakness that had plagued them was gone. Despite shock leaving them weak-kneed, Whumpee felt stronger than they had in weeks.
The thought made them sick.
Not trusting their feet to carry them, Whumpee crawled over to Caretaker. They were so pale, the only color to them slowly dripping down their neck. Whumpee pressed a finger into Caretaker’s neck, carefully avoiding the wound. They didn’t breathe until they felt the faint, fluttering beating of their heart. Caretaker was alive.
“I–I’ll fix this! I promise I don’t–I’m not going to hurt you, ever!” Whumpee’s voice shook as they spoke, a manic feeling overwhelming them. With strength they hadn’t known they possessed, Whumpee stood, grabbing Caretaker’s limp body with ease. They were careful, protecting Caretaker’s head to avoid agitating the would on their neck further.
The two puncture wounds looked like gunshots on their otherwise unblemished skin. It made something stir in Whumpee’s stomach, and they couldn’t bring themselves to look a moment longer.
“This isn’t happening. I’ll just–” Something caught in Whumpee’s throat as they spoke. They forced the tears back, giving a bloodstained smile to the unconscious person in their arms. “It’s just a bad dream. You’ll wake up like this never happened. It’s fine, we’re fine,” They had to be fine, because Whumpee didn’t think they could live with the alternative.
And yet, even as Whumpee gently cleaned Caretaker’s wound and carefully carried them to bed, they felt hunger growing once more.
#whumptember 2023#whumptember day 6#day 6: I didn't do this/bloody clothes#alt day 6: Checking for a pulse#vampire whumper#caretaker turned whumpee#whumpee turned whumper#my stuff
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Whumptember 2023, Day 6
“I didn’t do this”
Framed | Bloody clothes | Behind bars
The Bee’s Whumptember Masterlist
CW: slight noncon implied, some real unreality fuckery, seriously this story’s super fucked up, knives, insanity?, lots of different types of blood, body horror, fliessssss (CANNOT overstate enough the flies and body horror and unreality, please proceed with caution)
(Word of fair warning, this turned more into horror as the story went on. Still pretty whumpy tho, don’t worry ;) )
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Whumpee sat on the thin mattress in the dank little holding cell they’d been in for… minutes? Hours, months? Whumpee didn’t know anymore. It was hard to keep track of time when you’re staring unblinkingly at the wall. Better to not know than to be aware of every agonizingly slowly passing second.
They’d given up pleading their case long ago. Hours of interrogations, mountains of “evidence,” being poked and prodded with various needles and other machines meant to get the truth out of them, and they hadn’t even let Whumpee change out of their now dark copper brown stained clothing, sticking to their skin as a reminder of what they’d witnessed, what they were accused of, what they didn’t do. A physical marker of the condemned. No wonder they couldn’t feel anything anymore.
Then Friend walked into the room. They didn’t know how. They didn’t care. Friend stared at Whumpee from the other side of the cold bars for a long time. Whumpee stared straight ahead. If they didn’t acknowledge Friend, then they didn't exist. Friend was dead, anyway. Whumpee had “killed” them. It must just be one of the guards.
“Whumpee? What’s going on, what’re you doing here?”
Whumpee stood up and walked to the cell door, ready to be handcuffed by the guard and taken to the interrogation room again where they’d be tied to a chair and tortured for a confession that Whumpee didn’t know how to give and information they didn’t have. Maybe they’d add Whumpee’s own blood to the disgusting mixture soaked into the fibers of their shirt this time. The bruising and burn marks marring their skin already showcased the various methods that hadn’t worked in their oh-so-valiant effort to get the information out of Whumpee, why not add a bit of blood in there this time?
“What the hell are you doing? Don’t do that! I’m serious, get away!”
Get away? The guards didn’t tell them to get away, especially when they were on two different slides of the same immovable bars. The guards would grab them and force them to their knees and do unspeakable things to them, and then when they were done they left without a word. Either that or took them to the interrogation room and did other unspeakable horrors there. They didn’t talk to them though, and they certainly didn’t show fear.
Which meant…
Whumpee’s eyes shot up to the person’s face. Friend.
They were practically backed up against the wall behind them, as far away from the prison bars as they could get. Why? The prison bars couldn’t do anything to Friend. The prison bars just sat there, immovable, keeping you in or keeping you out, making it impossible to run away from the horrors within the cell.
“Friend?”
“I don’t– Whumpee–...”
“What are you doing here?”
“Stay away from me!” Friend shrieked, pushing themself up against the wall, tears rolling down their cheeks.
Well, that was just rude. Whumpee wasn’t even doing anything. Wait scratch that, they were both on the same side of the bars now. When had that happened?... Whumpee could have sworn they were still sitting on their cot, not breaking through the bars of their cell.
“Friend, you shouldn’t be here,” Whumpee stated. “It’s not safe, they’ll hurt you.”
Friend cowered against the dark grey cell walls, arms poised in front of their chest, trying to protect themself from… From what? Whumpee hadn’t threatened them… Had they? No, they wouldn’t. Friend was their friend, they were safe. Whumpee loved Friend. Whumpee would never do anything to hurt Friend.
Friend let out a shrill cry, and lowered themself down against the wall until they were a ball curled into themself, cowering in front of Whumpee.
“I know, I know, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, please just let me go. I won’t tell anyone, I promise! I promise, I promise, please, please!”
Whumpee narrowed their eyes at Friend. This couldn’t be them. Friend didn’t cower from Whumpee, Friend likes Whumpee. And Whumpee likes Friend. But Whumpee wasn’t sure they liked Friend right now, and Friend sure as hell wasn’t having a good time with Whumpee, either. Friend wouldn’t even look at them. They were too busy sobbing and screaming into their knees. Maybe Whumpee could fix that.
Whumpee crouched down in front of Friend, sliding the tip of their knife under their chin, tilting their head up and exposing their vulnerable neck.
“There’s nowhere to let you go to, Friend. Nowhere.” Whumpee comforted with a whisper. They weren’t exactly sure what Friend was promising to keep secret, but it must have been important if they were promising so fervently to keep it. “I know you won’t say anything. I made sure of that when I picked you. You were always such a good friend to me.”
Friend still wasn’t meeting Whumpee’s eyes as they whimpered, their own eyes darting around to look anywhere but Whumpee. Whumpee felt their face darken. They didn’t remember Friend being so rude. They grabbed Friend’s jaw and forced them to look into their eyes.
“It’s polite to look people in the eyes when they’re talking to you, Friend.” Whumpee hissed. “But we can work on that later, I suppose.”
Friend's eyes watered and their jaw trembled as they squeaked, staring right into Whumpee’s eyes. Whumpee smiled. They always loved the way Friend’s eyes looked when they were watery and crying. They nodded lightly. There's the Friend Whumpee knew so well.
Whumpee stood up and turned around to go back to their cell, satisfied. Only to find the bars weren’t there anymore, replaced with the bloody and mangled body of… someone. They didn’t have a face, or rather, their face had been cut into beyond recognition, so Whumpee couldn’t tell who it was. That was weird. They spun around in a circle in search of the missing prison bars, but the bright white of the room was starting to give them a pounding headache, so they couldn’t look for long. But still no bars. The bars were important. Where were the bars?
Whumpee heard a blood-curdling scream behind them. They ignored it. There were more pressing matters to attend to. They turned to Friend, who was now splayed out unnaturally, leaned up against the stunningly white wall, rudely staining it with their thick, dark blood. It had gotten everywhere too, drops of it littering the entire room, a smear of it running down the wall, getting darker as it went down until the streak led straight to Friend’s back. How had Friend had time to do all this with their blood and still move the bars? Whumpee would almost be impressed if they weren’t so annoyed.
Whumpee waved their now-bloodied knife at Friend, then to where the bars used to be, the space now occupied by that annoying dead body. This wasn’t a fair trade. Whumpee wanted their bars!
“Did you do something with the bars, Friend?” Whumpee asked, trying to keep their tone even. “It’s fine if you did, but I want them back. That dead body isn’t a good tradeoff, I want the bars.”
Friend didn’t respond, other than letting the bloodstain on their shirt slowly seep outward and the pool of blood underneath them grow steadily bigger. They were making a huge mess, their mouth hanging open, their neck crooked at a weird angle, their eyes not even moving to meet Whumpee’s. Whumpee groaned. They’d just talked about this.
“Friend, you’re really starting to get on my nerves.”
No response.
“Seriously, Friend, you can’t just walk in here and take my bars and then go and get your blood all over this nice pristine wall. It’s rude.”
No response.
“The silent treatment? Really, Friend? You’re so– so–... immature!”
Friend just stared straight ahead with cloudy eyes, unblinking, mouth wide open, palms facing toward the sky with their cut-up legs splayed haphazardly in front of them. They were covered in a sea of dark brown and red, black and blues and purples and greens and yellows dotting their skin, all blending into one another. A fly flew out of their mouth.
“Fine then, I guess I’m not talking to you either!”
Whumpee crossed their arms and turned around with a hmph. The body wasn't there anymore. And neither still were their bars! That wasn’t fair, Whumpee would have taken the mangled corpse in exchange for the bars if they knew they would otherwise get nothing at all! Whumpee clenched their jaw and turned to Friend again. They had to have something to do with this. They also hadn’t moved. Another fly flew out of their mouth.
Whumpee felt an anger rise in their chest, a new anger, an anger they’d felt many, many times before. They clenched their fists at their side, arms trembling from the effort of it, the bones in their hand grinding into the knife’s handle. Blood rushed in their ears. They surged forward with a yell and hauled Friend up out of their stupid little cower by the lapel of their dirty, ripped dress shirt. Their head lolled around as Whumpee did it. Whumpee held their knife up to Friend’s cheek so they would be forced to keep their head still, but then Friend rolled their head into the knife, impaling their cheek on it and causing black sludgy blood to come slowly oozing out of the wound. Whumpee’s eyes widened at the display and tried to rip the knife out.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” They screamed out. They didn’t want to hurt Friend! But the knife got stuck, and Whumpee pulled it harder and harder, panicking, and soon Friend’s face was all cut up, completely unrecognizable, oozing black blood onto Whumpee’s arm and the floor. More flies, from every crevice in Friend’s body. They were limp in Whumpee’s grasp, leaning on them wholly for support. Whumpee screamed and stumbled back, letting go of Friend’s shirt, and Friend crumpled to the floor like a ragdoll.
Whumpee couldn’t breathe. Blood pounded in their ears, they were shaking uncontrollably, they could barely see, the room was so bright white, their corneas felt like they were about to be burned out of their skull. The only respite was Friend, their limp body blotting out the incessant bright with their blacks and browns and deep, deep crimson reds. The hundreds of flies buzzing around them also helped a bit, the sheer number of the tiny black bodies doing a number on the bright white on their own. They were so loud, buzzing so loud, Whumpee could barely hear themself think. That was okay, they didn’t need thoughts when they had Friend. Whumpee smiled, smiled so wide so that Friend could see how much they loved them. They were the only place Whumpy could look without burning their eyes out, right at Friend. God, Whumpee loved Friend. They were always so sweet. So kind. So good. Making sure Whumpee's eyes didn’t burn out, graciously spreading their blood out across the pristine white room so Whumpee could see even more of them, filling the entire room with themself. They were even dripping their blood from the walls, dripping the sticky liquid down, down, down, dyeing the walls a beautiful deep maroon! So pretty, so thoughtful. They even brought flies in here to help blot out the rest of the whiteness, and there were enough buzzing around now that Whumpee could barely even see the white anymore. They breathed in deeply, feeling the flies fill their lungs, their tiny panicky legs crawling around inside them. Whumpy wanted to scream, to squirm, to get them out, but they didn’t. They didn’t want to hurt Friend’s feelings. The flies were loud though. Their buzzing was the only thing they could hear. They couldn’t even hear their screams of agony. And sure, the flies were now biting into Whumpee’s flesh, their skin, their lungs, burrowing in, wriggling deep inside planting their eggs so even more flies could fill the room, fill the air, fill their lungs, fill everything with their spawn. But that wasn’t Friend’s fault. It couldn’t be helped. Friend was only trying to help, and Whumpee loved them for it. They looked deeply into Friend's eyes. The flies were almost entirely blocking out Friend’s cloudy, perfect irises, crawling all over them, crawling into them, eating away at them until there was no eye tissue left. Whumpee could have cried. Only Friend would love Whumpee so much to do this for them. Only Friend. So kind.
@whumptember
#whumptember2023#whumptember day 6#day six: bloody clothes#day six: behind bars#tw unreality#whump#whump writing#whumpee#horror#horror writing#whumper#writeblr
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whumptember day 6-7
title: a curse taken
prompts: “you know what you have to do”, mind control, hurting a loved one, “don’t leave me”
warnings: cursing, blood, slightly intimate whumper, poisoning, death
characters: sidekick, villain, medic, hero
1180 words
a/n: this one kinda got away from me but i like how it turned out! reblogs appreciated
~
Sidekick walked into the house and past the living room where Villain was watching the news. Villain mumbled a hello, which Sidekick ignored.
Here’s what you’re going to do.
Sidekick opened the fridge and grabbed out whatever lunch meat there was and a slice of cheese. He pulled a paper towel off the roll and folded it over once and made a sandwich.
Give this to Medic, make sure you only use half.
He pulled the vial, barely thicker than a pencil and less than an inch tall, out from his pocket and set it on the counter next to the bread.
Make sure they won’t notice it, hide it in some food or a drink if you can.
Bread on the towel, meat, cheese, meat; he pulled the cork out of the top of the vial and sprinkled some of the contents on the slice of meat; he pushed the cork back in the vial and hid the vial in his pocket again, meat, bread.
Villain can’t know anything’s happening. No matter what.
He walked past the living room again and Villain nodded as he passed and Sidekick ignored him again.
Villain rolled his eyes and scoffed playfully, “Bad day?”
Sidekick ignored them again, eyes clouded with tears. Villain’s eyes followed them as they walked down to Medic’s room and opened the door, but he stayed in the living room.
“Hey Sidekick! How was your day?” Medic asked, they noticed the sandwich in his hands and reached for it, “Mine? I hope so; forgot to eat lunch today.”
He handed it to them and nodded. They inspected the meat and smiled. “You’re a lifesaver. Ooh! It’s ham, I thought we were out of it. Villain must’ve bought more.”
Sidekick sniffled and nodded, then walked out. Medic said something just before he closed the door, but he didn’t catch it.
Once you’ve taken care of Medic, find Villain.
Villain was still sitting on the couch; the news had been muted and Villain had scooted over. He patted the seat next to him and sighed, “Do we need to talk?”
You have to surprise him if you want any chance of winning.
Sidekick took a deep breath and shook his head. He screwed his eyes shut and shook his head. He didn’t want to do this, did he?
“Sidekick?” Villain asked, “You alright?” He stood up and took a few steps toward Sidekick. His arms hung at his side, and he left his knife on the coffee table.
You know what you have to do?
Sidekick lunged at Villain, forcing him to the ground and pinning his arms to his side with his knees.
“Sidekick? Oh god, no. I told you not to go see Hero. I told you not to.” Villain said, finally noticing the cloudiness in Sidekick’s eyes. “Sidekick, you have to fight it.”
You know what you have to do.
Sidekick grunted and pulled his arm back. He hit Villain square in the nose. His hand stung, this wasn’t right. He didn’t have to do this. He didn’t want to do this. Villain was good. Villain had kept him safe. Why was he doing this?
You know what you have to do.
He hit Villain again, and again, and again, he hit him until his hand was swollen and the skin on his knuckles had split, then he hit him a few times after that for good measure.
Once Villain can’t fight back anymore, you can stop. Do not kill him.
Sidekick’s eyes unclouded and he saw Villain underneath him.
“Villain?” he asked tentatively. He stood up and looked at his bloody hands, then again at Villain. “Did…did I do that?”
Villain grimaced and shook his head. “Not really,” he rasped. “I told you not to meet with Hero.”
“Oh,” Sidekick said. He shook his head and knelt down next to Villain, “I didn’t meet with her though. I didn’t. The only thing I did today was…no. I didn’t meet with her. I didn’t.”
“Let’s not get caught up in what did and didn’t happen, just go get Medic for me, will ya? They probably have their headphones on so don’t just yell.” Villain said. He pushed himself up and moved so he was leaning against the couch.
“Yeah, I’ll be right back.” Sidekick stood up again and walked down the hallway. He pushed Medic’s door open and walked inside. They were laying down on their bed, a half-eaten sandwich on their lap.
“Medic, Villain needs your help.” he said. They didn’t respond. He stood above them and shook them by their shoulder, again they didn’t react. “Medic?”
“They won’t wake up.”
Sidekick spun around, his hands up ready to fight. Hero chuckled and rolled her eyes. “There’s no point in that, Sidekick. We both know you don’t have enough energy to fight me right now.” She walked into the room and reached into Sidekick’s pocket. His jaw clenched and he closed his eyes until she pulled away again. She held a vial in the palm of her hand, it was half full. She shook it gently and held it out in front of him.
“You gave them this, don’t you remember?” she taunted. Of course he didn’t remember, not with what she’d done to him.
“What’s your game? What do you want from me?” he asked.
She hummed and closed her eyes with a small smile on her lips. “What I want from you…is something you’d never give me. That’s why I had to take it from you.” she turned her hand and her sleeve fell down just so he could see her wrist.
The bracelet an old friend had given him was back around her wrist, sitting just above the cuff of her sleeve. He breathed out slowly and reached to his wrist, where the bracelet had resided hours before.
“You took it back?” he whispered.
She nodded and he laughed. “What’s funny?” she demanded.
He threw his head back and laughed, “You took it back!”
She grabbed his jaw and pushed him against the wall, “This isn’t funny. This was the last thing you had of her and now it’s gone! You can never have it back! Don’t you understand that?” she screamed in his face. “I took it from you! Which means I win!”
“Oh, you win alright. And I can finally leave. After thousands of years, I can finally leave!” he kept laughing, even as she pushed him harder against the wall, “that wasn’t a gift, Hero.” he spat, “That bracelet was a fucking curse, and I’m finally free of it. So thank you. And goodbye.” he muttered something under his breath and disappeared from under her hand.
Hero fell forward and hit the wall, her breath knocked out of her from the force of the fall.
“Don’t leave me!” she shouted to no one. “Don’t you fucking leave me! I won! I fucking won! You can’t leave!” her voice broke and she looked at her wrist again. Instead of pride, a wave of nothingness flowed over her. She was still alone.
#whumptember2022#whumptember#whumptember day 6#whumptember day 7#mind control#hurting a loved one#don't leave me#you know what you have to do#whump fic#my writing#whump#whumpee#whumper#caretaker#medic#hero#villain#sidekick#sidekick whumper#hero whumper#villain whumpee#whump writing
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"I didn’t do this”
Framed | Bloody clothes | Behind bars
TW: gore, punishment, emotional whump, implied child abuse (beating)
"Don't lie to me." A stinging slap let him fall. His cheek was burning. Out of reflex one hand went up. Instead of ceasing to new pain, he only managed to rub a pointy shard imbedded in his palm over his face and spread the blood from his hands. Additionally, the pain in his hand got even worse and he could also feel fresh blood dripping from the new cut on his cheek.
Sitting on his ass, he pulled his hands down, staring at them. They were covered in blood, his own blood. In front of him, just by his feet was that damn overdimensioned jug. Okay, it used to be a jug. Some fancy heirloom, ugly as they get. But it was scattered now. Shards widely spread over the floor, bloody from his cut hands. He had tried to scrap the pieces together, in frightened foresight of an unpleasant encounter, if he would be caught in the same room with the headmasters favorit peace smashed.
That hand, that had slapped him moments ago, took hold of the back of his shirt and pulled him up. The kid was no match to the furious adult. He was desperate, but he wasn't responsible. "I didn't do this." He whispered to himself. The headmaster wouldn't believe him anyway and he surely wasn't listening to anything whumpee had to say for himself.
"Don't lie to me, I said!" Another even stronger slap to the same cheek. Apparently he had been listening. And probably he just drove that piece of pottery deeper into his cheek. The pain was beyond imagination, whumpee saw stars. Thinking about it, they were probably a result of that slap.
If he would have been able to form a decent thought, whumpee would have made the connection between the 3 guys from section C asking him to come here. Conveniently, right now, they were nowhere to be found and that concluded, that they had probably set him up.
But his sticky, throbbing hands and his agonising cheek put every brainfunction on hold for the moment. His ears were ringing too. The hand in his shirt was leading him out of the room, to get punished even more, for a crime he didn't commit. He stumbled along.
Before the night was over, whumpee would pray, that he'd never been born into the life of an orphan. Before dawn was breaking, he would cradle in on himself, trying to protect every hurting part of his body against the evil forces of mankind. Before the sun would break the horizon to announce another day in hell, he would cry himself to sleep.
My whumptember2023 masterlist
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What He Deserved
Of Vampires and Men Masterlist
Whumtember 2022 Day 6: Forced to Comply
Takes place directly after Biology
CW: Aftermath of traumatic event, numbness, guilt, self-hatred, blood, panic attack
"Hold still," the nurse said as he dabbed at Aldon's back. Aldon stared straight ahead, not really thinking about anything. Apparently he had passed out after he killed the human. He had come to as they were carrying him to the infirmary. His back stung from the whip and the sun, but he welcomed that. At least it was a feeling. The rest of him was just... numb.
"I need you to come back every night for the next week so I can take a look at how it's healing."
Aldon just nodded at the nurse's directions. "Drink," the nurse said, handing him a mug of blood. Aldon stared down into the dark red liquid, the scent turning his stomach. But he did what he was told and choked it down. Then he handed the mug back to the nurse and resumed staring at the wall.
"Von Sleet." Aldon turned to face the nurse. The nurse was frowning. "I said you were dismissed. Go get some rest."
"Yes sir," he mumbled as he took the sun cloak the nurse offered him. He got to his feet and slowly walked out of the infirmary.
Franz and Leon were waiting for him right outside the door. Without a word Franz wrapped Aldon in a hug, carefully avoiding the whips marks on his back. Leon hugged him too and the three of them just stood there for a while. Aldon closed his eyes. He should be crying. He should be screaming and cursing and be overwhelmed by emotion. But he didn't feel anything. What kind of person did that make him?
"We're here for you, Al," Franz said as he pulled back and rested a hand on Aldon's shoulder. Aldon looked down at the ground.
"I just want to be left alone right now," Aldon said quietly.
"Oh, okay," Franz said as he removed his hand.
Aldon turned away and started walking back to the barracks. The sun was shining down and Aldon shivered inside his sun cloak. He never wanted to feel the sun's wrath again.
He was almost to the barracks door when all at once it hit him. A wave of horror and anger and grief and guilt slammed into him and he fell to his knees. He was shaking, he realized.
"I'm a murderer," he whispered to himself. And even as he said it he knew that wasn't a recent development. He had been a murderer since he was thirteen years old. Aldon looked down at his hands. Hands that only this morning had been splashed with blood. A tear splashed onto his palm. Then another one.
Aldon put his face in his hands and sobbed. He had never wanted to hurt anyone, vampire or human. But he hadn't been given a choice. He had killed Julian to spare the human pain. He had killed the human today to spare himself pain. And he would spend the rest of his life killing, for no other reason than it was what was expected of him as a soldier. His thoughts spiraled and blurred and he couldn't stop them. He couldn't stop them. He gasped for breath that wouldn't come as panic engulfed his mind and body.
Aldon didn't know how long he knelt on the ground crying and shaking. But it was long enough for Franz and Leon to find him.
"Al?" Leon said gently, kneeling next to him. Aldon didn't look at his friend. The worst of the panic attack was over now, but he still shook slightly.
"Come inside," Leon said. "It's past midday and you need to rest."
Aldon didn't protest as his friends grabbed his arms and helped him to his feet. He didn't protest as they led him up the stairs to the to the second floor and the room they shared.
Aldon collapsed into his bunk and closed his eyes. He was exhausted. But sleep didn't come that day.
As the sun set, Aldon heard his bunkmates moving around the room as they prepared for another night of classes. Aldon had been excused for the night on account of his injuries. He flinched when a burst of laughter sounded from the other side of the room.
"Shh, be quiet," Franz whispered harshly to the culprits. "Al needs his rest."
A student snorted. "He needs his rest? What about us? His screaming at the Post woke up the entire barracks." Aldon cringed at the hatred in George's voice. "From what I've heard, he got what he deserved."
Aldon's heart skipped a beat. Had he really deserved the whipping? The burning of the sun?
"You know nothing, George. Nothing," Franz hissed.
"Whatever," George said, and even with his eyes closed Aldon knew that he was rolling his eyes.
Soon, the barracks were empty. Aldon sat up in bed, wincing at the pain in his back. He picked up his pillow and screamed into it.
George was wrong. He hadn't gotten what he deserved. Not yet.
Taglist: @thecitythatdoesntsleep @whump-cravings @thecyrulik @neverthelass @michelleswhumpyreblogs @whumpsy-daisy @the-monarch-whumperfly @aswallowimprisoned @secretwhumplair @whumpzone @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @nicolepascaline @susiequaz12 @princessofonwardsworld @itsleighlove @pumpkin-spice-whump @wiwinia @sunflower10000 @whump-blog @blushing-snail @melancholy-in-the-morning @pizzasthengym @suspicious-whumping-egg @whumpsday @ceph-the-writing-spook @inkkswhumpandstuff @whumpycries @quietly-by-myself @honey-is-mesi @darlingwhump
#whumptember2022#whumptember 2022 day 6: forced to comply#of vampires and men#aldon the vampire#trauma tw#guilt tw#self hatred tw#blood tw#panic attack tw#vampire whumpee#vampire whump
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Whumptember Day Twenty-Eight
“I never should have let it come this far”
Failed hero | Hospital stay | Begging for help
Chronologically: 6
~1990 words
Masterlist
CW: discussion of past noncon, injury reveal, negative self-talk
~~~
“I’m looking for Sir Driemal, is he here?”
Ren stuck out like a sore thumb in the lobby of the fine inn. He was covered in dust and dirt, his shoes were caked in mud, and his hair was matted. All the result of walking for days and sleeping in ditches or barns. The inn’s attendant unsubtly wrinkled her nose at him.
“No, no Sir Driemal here.”
“Well, well what about…” Ren floundered in desperation, “Sir Cassius? Lady Richard? Any knights at all, are any staying here?”
“No,” the attendant said flatly, “I think you’d best be on your way.”
“But they said they’d be here, It’s only Saturday, they’re supposed to be here…” Ren couldn’t help the tears that sprang to his eyes. “Are there any knights here?”
“Try the poorhouse,” the attendant snapped.
“Ren!”
Ren spun around to see Sir Driemal in the doorway to the dining hall. The knight wasted no time striding forward, and almost seemed like he might hug Ren, before he caught himself.
“Ren, I’m so glad you came. I was so worried you wouldn’t be able to leave her.”
“I almost didn’t,” the words flowed out of Ren so easily when he spoke to Driemal.
“Good job, man!” Sir Driemal clapped a hand onto Ren’s shoulder, sending a jolt of electric excitement through Ren’s body and bringing a smile to his face. The knight turned to the attendant, who looked like she wished she could melt into the floor.
“Prepare a room for Ren here, if you will?” Sir Driemal requested.
“I’m terribly sorry, sir, but we’re full tonight,” she said, and this time it sounded like she was telling the truth.
“No matter!” Driemal squeezed Ren’s shoulder reassuringly, causing another buzz of delight, “He can stay in my room! Take his horse to the stables and have his luggage sent up to mine.”
“Oh, sir, I…” Ren’s smile melted; he wasn’t sure whether to be confused, embarrassed, or scared. “I don’t… I don’t have a horse. Or luggage.”
Sir Driemal blinked at him.
“You… You walked here?”
“Yes, sir.”
“With nothing?”
“Well - yes, sir.”
Sir Driemal dropped his hand from Ren’s shoulder and looked him up and down, as if noticing his ragged state for the first time. His face darkened with concern.
“We… I had no idea, that you… I would have thought you had a horse, I… I’m so sorry, Ren, we should have left money for you.”
Ren shook his head, horrified at the idea.
“No, no! I made it, that's all that matters.”
Driemal managed a guilty smile.
“You did. You did.” He turned back to the attendant, who quickly pretended she hadn’t been listening. “Set up a hot bath in my room, please.”
She chirped an agreement and Sir Driemal led Ren by the arm into the dining hall, where he let Ren collapse into a chair before bringing him mountains of fine food. Ren ate like a half-starved animal, because he was - for days now he’d been eating garbage and charity. Now he threw back meat pies and cheeses and ale with gusto. Driemal watched him with that same guilty smile. Ren flushed when he caught the knight staring.
“I’m sorry, sir. You must think me very ill-mannered.”
“No, I…” Sir Driemal shook his head, “I only wonder when you last ate.”
Ren didn’t answer.
Once he’d had his fill, Sir Driemal showed Ren to his room. Inn employees were just leaving, and a massive wooden tub of steaming water awaited inside, along with washcloths and towels on a side table. Sir Driemal went to his trunk and rooted around in it.
“The only spare sleeping-clothes I have is my summer set, I hope that’s alright.” He offered a bundle of white linen to Ren.
“That’s alright, sir,” Ren accepted them, then looked around. There was only one bed in the room, a massive four-poster. “Where will I sleep?”
“Do you mind sharing the bed? I won’t have you sleeping on the floor,” Sir Driemal said casually, “Besides, look at the size of that thing! We won’t bother each other.”
Too overwhelmed to decline, Ren nodded.
“I’m going back downstairs to iron out our plans with the others,” Sir Driemal said, “Take your time. Don’t wait up for me, I’m sure you’re exhausted.”
Ren was very suddenly alone. He set the clothes down on the side table, and brushed his fingers across the soft, clean fabric. Sir Driemal had no idea how kind he was.
Ren set to work, stripping down. Not wanting to immediately dirty the beautiful tub, he wetted a washcloth and scrubbed himself down twice before getting in to soak. The hot water was immensely soothing to his many bruises and aches. He could hardly believe that such a luxury was his to enjoy.
He stayed in the bath until it was tepid. Once he was clean and dry and able to comb his fingers through his damp hair without them catching, he picked up the sleeping-clothes and shook them out.
His heart sank.
They were indeed summer sleepwear. The top was sleeveless, and the bottoms would only reach his mid-thigh. They would leave countless bruises exposed, as well as his welt-covered shoulders. His hands clenched into fists around the fabric as his breath shook.
He’d just have to wake up before Sir Driemal did, and get dressed quickly. No problem.
He pulled on the clothes and went over to the bed. The far side was slightly mussed, so Ren approached the nearer and climbed under the covers. The bedding was incredibly soft, softer than Lady Twice’s, and smelled fresh and clean.
It also smelled a bit like Sir Driemal - saddlesoap and rosewater - which Ren didn’t mind. He tucked the blankets securely around his shoulders to hide his battered body. He intended to stay awake, to rehearse what he would say to Sir Driemal the next morning, to figure out how precisely to ask to be the knight’s manservant - but sleep seized him instantly.
~~~
When Sir Driemal awoke to delicate snores the next morning, he was confused for a brief moment; then he recalled the events of the previous night. Ren had made it. His journey had clearly been difficult - more difficult than it should have been - but he’d made it. Driemal thanked his lucky stars for the dozenth time, and rolled over to look at the man in question.
His breath caught in his throat.
The night before, Ren had been fully bundled under the covers and Driemal had thought nothing of it. Now, the blankets had slipped down, revealing Ren’s bare shoulder and the back of his neck where he lay on his side, facing away from Driemal. Angry dark red bruises, just starting to go green at the edges, spelled out the unmistakable pattern of belt marks on his shoulderblade. Sinister in a different way, brighter fingerprints were splayed across the back of Ren’s neck.
“Ren!” The name left Driemal’s lips before he could think, and as soon as it did he regretted it. He clearly hadn’t been supposed to see this, wasn’t supposed to know, and now Ren would feel forced to explain whatever had happened before he’d even had breakfast. He cursed himself internally as Ren drew in a breath and raised a hand to rub at his eyes for a moment before freezing with awareness; he could feel Driemal looking at him.
“Ren, I, I’m so sorry,” Driemal stammered, “I didn’t mean to see…”
Ren jerked the covers up over his shoulders and rolled to look at Driemal with bright, frightened eyes.
“It was Lady Twice, wasn’t it?” Again, in his barely-awake state, Driemal couldn’t stop himself from talking. “She beat you for us leaving - my god, Ren, this is all my fault!” he sat up in bed, “I should have done more to convince you to come with us. This never should have happened, I never should have let it come this far, Ren, I’m so sorry. I failed you.”
“Don’t say that,” Ren whispered.
“But it’s true, isn’t it?” Driemal said miserably, “You were hurt because of our actions. My actions. Is that why you came here with nothing, too? You fled?”
“That - I - I haven’t been entirely honest with you.” Ren looked away, fervently mumbling, “I shouldn’t have - I shouldn’t be sharing your bed, it’s disgusting, I… Look away.”
Driemal obediently shifted his back towards Ren.
“What are you talking about?”
He heard the blankets rustle and Ren’s bare feet pad across the floor.
“Sir… Where are my clothes?”
“Oh, um, I sent them to be laundered. I’m sorry, I was just -” Ren sobbed, and Driemal’s heart clenched. “Ren?”
“You can look,” Ren’s voice was muffled, “It doesn't matter anymore.”
Slowly, hesitantly, Driemal turned to look at Ren. He stood side-on to Driemal, his hands pressed to his face. The knight stifled a gasp when he registered Ren’s legs. His knees were scraped to hell, and red handprints marred his thighs. It was obvious evidence of a brutal and sustained assault.
“Ren, what…?”
“There were bandits on the road,” Ren rushed out his words, thick with tears, “And I thought they would let me keep my things if I serviced them, but they tricked me, and I shouldn’t have - I shouldn’t have slept in your bed after that, that was a horrible thing to do to you, sir, I just need my clothes back and then I can leave!”
Silence stretched out as Driemal processed this.
“Ren,” he said softly, and Ren’s shoulder’s tensed, “Ren, I don’t want you to leave.”
Ren shook his head, his hands still glued to his face.
“Ren,” Driemal started to get out of bed, “Please-”
Ren shrank away a step in reaction to Driemal’s movement. “Please don’t hit me!” he gasped into his palms.
Driemal stared, open-mouthed, his words trapped under his tongue. He was spared having to come up with an immediate response by a knock on the door.
“Laundry!” called a voice from beyond.
Driemal stood and moved slowly to the entry, his eyes trained on Ren. Ren stood completely frozen, still hiding his face. Driemal opened the door, blocking the employee’s view of Ren with his body, and received the bag of laundry with a quick thanks before quietly clicking the door closed. He dumped the contents of the bag onto the bed, and sorted out Ren’s things from his. Scooping them into a bundle, he approached the paralyzed manservant.
“Ren. Look at me, please?” he gently requested. Ren complied, lowering shaky hands and raising his gaze to meet Driemal’s. Ren’s face was red with suppressed tears, and his eyes were wide and his lips pursed with fear. Driemal took a breath.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” he said, willing his rough voice to be soothing, “I’ll go get dressed in Sir Cassius’ room while you get dressed here. Then we’ll all go to breakfast, together. Then you and I will go to a tailor and order you a new wardrobe. We’ll all stay here, in Faville, until it is ready, which will give you some time to recover. Then we’ll ride on, together, to… wherever Lady Richard decides we’re needed. Oh yes, and I’ll be buying you a horse.”
Ren gazed up at him for a long moment, and Driemal was struck with the urge to touch him, to rest a hand on his chest or his cheek, to offer some small comfort. He shifted the clothes in his arms and one hand twitched upward, but it was stalled by Ren nodding.
“Yes, sir,” the manservant whispered, carefully taking the bundle of clothes from the knight and casting his eyes respectfully downwards, “Thank you, sir.”
Driemal wanted Ren to feel safe with him. He wanted Ren to feel comfortable. But, he suddenly realized, that would take a while. He nodded brusquely, busied his overeager hands with gathering his own clothes, and made his exit.
He could wait.
#whump#whump fic#whump writing#whumptember2023 day 28#whumptember2023#day 28: I never should have let it come this far#cw past noncon#injury reveal#cw negative self-talk
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STARDUST REBLOG CHALLENGE Masterlist
September 🍂
Week 1 (9.7~9.11)
9/7、9/8
Diplomatic Negotiations drabble by @oh-my-damn
were-creature Wednesday: werewolf Ari and Luna by @imaginedreamwrite
Dark Tony Stark x Reader by @mrsdarkandyandere7
Avengers Game Night Headcanon by @marvel-sambuckyvibes
Steven Grant x Fem!Reader by @angelltheninth
Dennis Baker drabbles by @ littlelioncub43
Bucky Barnes | B&B SFW Alphabet by @rookthorne
One Night Stand by @caplanbuckybarnes
Dennis Baker married life by @ littlelioncub43
Whumptember 2022 prompt:sick pairing:Frank Adler /little!reader by @comfortcap
Tell him you’re mine(Curtis Everett /fem!reader) by @vivianandherlily
Forgot by @royalwriteroftheuniverse
Bring me to life part 1 by @nekoannie-chan
Love poison (Steve Rogers /fem!reader) by @empyreanwritings
9/9
‘Cause I can’t help if you look like an angel by @wildestdreamsblog
Andy Barber (Mr.Freezy) x reader by @sweater-daddiesdumbdork
For You I’ll Fight || Bruce Wayne Imagine by @holymultiplefandomsbatman
Forgot - but then Steve Remembers by @royalwriteroftheuniverse
Clubs and Things by @samwilsonsbabymama
AU!Buckys and their readers by @angrythingstarlight
Fluff and nsfw (fluff part) by @ronearoundblindly
Stars and Stripes | s.w. by @sweetascanbee
There's still time (Eddie Brock x Reader) by @raincoffeeandfandoms
in layman's terms by @sweetdreamsbuck
Beautifully Unfinished by @kayteewritessteve
Midnight Stroll by @drabblewithfrannybarnes
The Feeling’s Mutual by @thenhewaswrongaboutme
𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞: 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 by @buckycuddlebuddy
CE characters react when their girls withhold sex..just to tease him hc by @royalsweetteaa
9/10
The maid of Mr. Barnes - Part 6 (Bucky Barnes x Reader) by @disasterofastory
Gotcha Day | s.r. by @sweetascanbee
Summer Wedding by @royalwriteroftheuniverse
Vampire reader x steve by @ronearoundblindly
deep sea mermaid reader x steve by @ronearoundblindly
art - bucky barnes x reader by @onceuponastory
college bruce banner x g/n! reader by @fluffyprettykitty
9/11
mob boss! Steve x reader by @angrythingstarlight
Andy Barber x reader (3k wheels of filth drabble celebration) by @ the-iceni-bitch
Royal Flush-Part 5* by @ilovefandoms102
steve rogers x trench mermaid pt.2 by @ronearoundblindly
fluffy Friday (Ari x Luna) by @imaginedreamwrite
Steve x fem!reader by @sanguineterrain
once in a lifetime by @ classicalmarvel
Blanket Monster by @drabblewithfrannybarnes
Give Me a Hand? by @the-iceni-bitch
Week 2
The One in Charge by @raincoffeeandfandoms
boyfriend!Ari Levinson x student! Reader by @junipermuses
FK!Ari x reader by @onsunnyside
Jake Jensen x reader by @littlelioncub43
𝐌𝐀𝐏𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐍-𝐄𝐗𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐒 by @vivianandherlily
Mixed Signals - Part I: A Chris Evans Mini Fic (Three Parts) by @chris-evans-fics
Happy Father's Day - Jake Jensen by @justalonelyslytherin
HAPPY FATHER’S DAY - COLIN SHEA by @justalonelyslytherin
Hey, Kitty Kitty by @royalsweetteaa
Sprinkle by @buckyalpine
Heavenly Touch by @straywords
bucky barnes x reader by @annab-nana
bucky barnes x reader quote by @incorrectanything
Ari x Reader: won't you whisper soft and slow? (One Shot) by @cruelfvkingsummer
adopted a puppy CE x reader by @imyourbratzdoll
Hot Tubs and Bubs by @f10werfae
Escape by @golden-ariess
whats-it-like-being-tall-yn-is-it by @hannibals-favourite-meal
Sox (Chris Evans x Reader Headcannon) by @cevansgoatee
CE x reader 3 parts by @classicalmarvel
HONEYMOON WITH ARI by @classicalmarvel
safe in your arms by @classicalmarvel
winter things by @classicalmarvel
you make me feel like a teenager in loveee! by @classicalmarvel
3 headcanons by @classicalmarvel
Mob Bucky x F reader by @buckyalpine
Well-deserved throne by @sinner-as-saint
A morning with Stevie- questions and answers by @royalwriteroftheuniverse
Sleepy by @comfortcap
steve rogers x reader quote by @incorrectcapsicle
Fresh Fallen Snow, Part 6 by @georgiapeach30513
Civil war Bucky + overstimulation (light fic) by @buckgasms
A simple mission by @nekoannie-chan
steve rogers x reader quote by @incorrectcapsicle
40s Bucky + Virginity by @buckgasms
Summer Wedding Part 4 by @royalwriteroftheuniverse
Happy ending by @nekoannie-chan
fluffy smut steve rogers x reader by @the-iceni-bitch
Silverfox Johnny drunk rambling to his baby by @imaginedreamwrite
𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞 by @buckycuddlebuddy
Like Braille by @thenhewaswrongaboutme
Smut Dialogue: “Is that a thong?” with Ari Levinson by @the-iceni-bitch
October 🎃
S IS FOR SMOOTH by @peternoonewantsthat
Plushie Problem by @thenhewaswrongaboutme
SOMEBODY ELSE by @shedobewritingalittle
𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐓 by @vivianandherlily
Time For A Break- Chris Evans xreader fic by @sarahrogersevans
DAY 21 — THIGH FUCKING by @bucky-barnes-diaries
Flashed a Tit by @f10werfae
Summer wedding Part 6 by @royalwriteroftheuniverse
Part 5
Part 4
Part 3
Part 2
Part 1
Mafia!Bucky x Reader by @angrythingstarlight
OVER AND OVER - ARI LEVINSON SMUT by @frostironfudge
Misreaders by @royalesweetteaa
DAY 20 — THIGH RIDING by @bucky-barnes-diaries
A PLACE TO COME HOME TO by @justalonelyslytherin
I WANT YOU- CHRIS EVANS XREADER FAN FIC by @sarahrogersevans
Slice of Life by @fluffycutecevans
HEAVEN FOR YOU: PART 4 by @imaginedreamwrite
KITCHEN DISASTER by @nekoannie-chan
𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐥𝐞 𝟒 by @buckyhoney
POSTCARDS MASTERLIST by @sebbytrash
𝗖𝘂𝗽𝗶𝗱𝘀 𝗕𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸𝗳𝗮𝘀𝘁- 𝗔𝗿𝗶 𝗟𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗼𝗻 by @gutflorizt
FOOLS RUSH IN (OCT 20TH) by @ronearoundblindly
TWO OF US by @lovebittenbyevans
Drabble 1
Drabble 2
Drabble 3
Drabble 4
Drabble 5
IG Posted ｜Part 2 ｜ Part 3 ｜
Aesthetic au
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
I know heaven’s a thing, I go there when you touch me by @wildestdreamsblog
SHORT STUFF - BUCKY BARNES X READER by @youlightmeupfinn
Ransom/daycare! reader by @imaginedreamwrite
A TOUCH OF DESIRE by @maladaptivexxdaydreaming
UNTITLED DRABBLE by @joannaliceevans-fanficblog
HIS BRIDE by @joannaliceevans-fanficblog
TICKLETOBER DAY 18: CHASE by @supermarvel-fics
A DAY FULL OF SURPRISES- STEVE ROGERS XREADER FIC by @sarahrogersevans
A TEASE by @lokiandbuckysdoll
MOVING DAY by @fortheloveoffanfic
CAT-SITTING by @youre-amazing-say-it
NASTY NAUGHTY BOY || STEVE ROGERS X FEM!READER by @ro-is-struggling
college fuckboy buck x f reader by @buckyalpine
Kiss it Better by @straywords
A DATE WITH THE BOSS by @lokiandbuckysdoll
BUCKY BARNES | ONE SHOT | OKAY by @adrinktostopyourthirst
HIDE AND SEEK | STEVE ROGERS BY @earth616variant
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Your Protector, Forever BY @wildestdreamsblog
Nursing Our Hearts Back to Health BY @justalonelyslytherin
THE DAY STEVE ROGERS SAVED ME FROM A FIRE- STEVE ROGERS XREADER FIC BY @sarahrogersevans
innocent crybaby reader: bodyguard ari BY @onsunnyside
corruption kink by @holylulusworld
Writers Block by @royalwriteroftheuniverse
kinktober masterlist by @bubblessunshinehoney
Steven/Marc/Jake x F!Reader by @soonknight
Kinktober bingo by @nomadicpixel
Shorty McLovin by @f10werfae
Timeless lovin’ by @royalsweetteaa
Part 1
FARM BOY STEVE by @onsunnyside
IT’S FUN BEING BAD by @sunshinebuckybarnes
Loud Thoughts & Hot Cocoa- Chris Evans xreader fan fic by @sarahrogersevans
LOVERS IN THE ORCHARD by @vintagestarlight
Kinktober Masterlist by @luxeavenger
kinktober masterlist by @imyourbratzdoll
kinktober masterlist by @traitorjoelite
STARTING GATE by @navybrat817
werewolf Curtis x Luna by @imaginedreamwrite
The Fitness Pack masterlist by @holylulusworld
JUST A LITTLE TASTE | B. BARNES by @buckspumpkin
Kissing + Wakanda Bucky by @buckgasms
FRESH FALLEN SNOW by @georgiapeach30513
Nothing I Won’t Do- Chris Evans xreader fan fic by @sarahrogersevans
TAME by @buckyalpine
CE CHARACTERS PODCAST HEADCANNON AND WHAT THEY WOULD LISTEN TO XREADER by @sarahrogersevans
PHIL’S BIRTHDAY by @anotherfuckingmarvelfanaccount
𝙪𝙣𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪 (1) ₊˚ପ⊹ 𝙗.𝙗𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙨 • 𝙨.𝙧𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙨 by @hellsbarnes
CALL IT DREAMING by @helios-writes
SAM WILSON X GN!READER (FLUFF) by @rodrikstark
BATHTIME | B.B. by @intrepidacious
HARD TO HANDLE by @rubynationwins
ok maybe not a good guy but at least a dateable guy? by @angrythingstarlight
HAPPINESS GREED? by @ace-of-gay
kinktober masterlist by @ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused
BOUND BY THE NIGHT by @jobean12-blog
SHE’S NOT YOU by @alisonsfics
Title: One Night Only by @jessybarnes
Bucky craving pumpkins with reader by @foreverindreamlandd
FRIENDLY COMPETITION by @hannibals-favourite-meal
Angrydaddy Andy forcing kitten reader to hump on his leather shoes while he is in a meeting by @onsunnyside
TOGETHER FOREVER by @syntheticavenger
EARPIECE STEVE ROGERS X GN!READER (FLUFF) by @rodrikstark
Kinktober Masterlist by @bucky-barnes-diaries
512 - B.B by @the-canary
HOMECOMINGSTEVE ROGERS X F!READER (FLUFF) by @rodrikstark
Always Enough by @jobean12-blog
Ned；bucky barnes x reader by @buckyalpine
SWEET DREAMS by @buckyalpine
WHAT YOUR HONEYMOON WITH STEVE ROGERS WOULD INCLUDE... by @alloftheimaginesblog
PRETTY GIRL by @jewels2876
JUMP WITH ME by @writercole
best friend Bucky by @buckyalpine
chris x foreigner reader by @imyourbratzdoll
andy barber x reader x steve rogers(past relationship) by @imyourbratzdoll
STAY by @librariesandcastles
𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐬, 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐮𝐬. by @imyourbratzdoll
𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝑭𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝑨𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑 by @imyourbratzdoll
Growing Pains Series by @cevansbrat0007
Kinktober 2022 by @holylulusworld
COCKTAIL by @jobean12-blog
KINKTOBER DAY 12: MOMMY KINK W/ STEVE ROGERS by @marvelouscharlie24
Kinktober 2022 Masterlist by LATE-TO-THE-PARTY-81
SECRET FAMILY RECIPE - STEVE ROGERS by JUSTALONELYSLYTHERIN
DON’T SAY ANYTHING (PART 3) by CUMONBUCKY
DON’T SAY ANYTHING (PART 2) by CUMONBUCKY
animal shifter au by SARGENTBARXES
boss!vampire!bucky x PA plus size reader by SEBASTIANSLUTS
SHOW ME by SPECTRE-POSTS
DO YOU WANT TO HAVE AN ALPHA? by WELLDONEBECA
THIRD WHEEL by HANNIBALS-FAVOURITE-MEAL
"YOU KEPT THIS?" by JUSTALONELYSLYTHERIN
SAME SIDE by NEKOANNIE-CHAN
KINKTOBER DAY 10: BITING W/ LLOYD HANSEN by
MARVELOUSCHARLIE24
Second Chance- Steve Rogers xreader fan fic by SARAHROGERSEVANS
THE MAID OF MR. BARNES + LONG NIGHT (BUCKY BARNES X READER) by DISASTEROFASTORY
AUTUMN IS HEALING by RONEAROUNDBLINDLY
𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐬: Ari Levinson and Nomad Steve Rogers by LILACEVANS
what each of the guys' dicks look like and i need to know your opinion now by VALLEYFAE
I Will Never Forget. He Never Did Either by ROYALWRITERSOFTHEUNIVERSES
November ❄️
Week 1
Week 2
Week 3
Week 4
December ☃️
Week 1
Week 2
Week 3
Week 4𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞: 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝
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Whumptember 28th: Panic Attack
Summary: An interview goes wrong.
Warnings: Just language
Prompt by @comfortcap Divider by @firefly-graphics
You hated press tours. It was hours upon hours each day of sitting in a windowless room, stuck in the same seat, and answering the same tired and boring questions. Plus, the mental and emotional toll that having to always be “on” was exhausting.
You were on hour five of day three of the press tour for your new movie with Chris. This was now your third movie with Chris and people on the internet were starting to wonder if there was something going on between the two of you. Unbeknownst to them, you two had been in a relationship for just over a year and a half. You had become fast friends during your first movie and during the filming of the second, your relationship had blossomed. Long hours spent together both on and off of set allowed the feelings to deepen. Chris had been notoriously single for a few years before you began dating and you had been in a relationship when you filmed your first movie. By the time the second movie came around, you had been single for 6 months and you were ready to find the one. You just hadn’t realized that the one would be Chris. He had proposed to you 3 months ago and you hated not wearing your ring but knew that it needed to come off if you wanted to try to keep this as private as possible. You were, however, wearing it on a long chain around your neck, tucked under your blouse.
You were sitting in a rather uncomfortable chair next to Chris while the interviewer was asking him something about his workout regimen and you took a deep breath, trying to stay focused. You were mindlessly fiddling around with the chain around your neck when you pulled it fully out from under your blouse and held your ring in your hand while running it left and right on the chain. It was simply something for you to fidget with while you tried to focus on the interview.
The interviewer glanced over at you and then back to Chris while Chris was giving his answer. She then looked back over and almost did a double take when she spotted the rather large and very beautiful ring on your chain. It couldn’t be mistaken as anything other than an engagement ring.
The interviewer stopped Chris mid sentence and turned to face you. “I’m sorry Chris. Y/N, is that an engagement ring?” You had been zoned out slightly and shook your head while you came back to reality. You looked at the interviewer, who looked at you like she had just won the lottery. “I’m sorry, I missed that. What was the question?”
The interviewer just smiled a knowing smile. “Is that an engagement ring around your neck? Because it certainly looks like it.” The color drained from your face as you realized that you had pulled the chain out and your head quickly spun to look at Chris. He looked shocked and concerned and he looked over to Megan, his manager, who quickly stepped in and ended the interview.
Meghan ushered you and Chris out of the room and up to your suite. You quickly sat on the couch and put your head in your hands. “Shit. Fuck. Fuck-Fuck-Fuck!” You exclaimed. Chris went to sit in front of you and ran his hands up and down your arms. “Baby, look at me.” As you looked up, he could see that you had tears in your eyes and your breathing was fast and shallow. You were on the verge of a panic attack and he needed to get you to calm down. He quickly moved over to the couch and scoop you up into his arms. He pulled you as close as he could and wrapped his arms all the way around you, squeezing you tightly but not enough to hurt you. Just enough to add some much needed pressure to your body. “Baby, feel my chest moving. Just breathe with me.” He took deep, exaggerated breaths and watched you attempt to copy him.
After a few minutes, your breathing was back to normal but you were still crying. “Chris, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t even thinking and I just outed myself like that. I don’t think it will take much for people to put it all together. It’s gonna come out Chris. I’m so fucking sorry.”
He wiped the tears from your face. “Hey, I don’t care about that one fuckin bit. I care about you. I don’t care if anyone knows. Hell, I don’t care if everyone knows. I just want you and I want you to be happy. I know we’ve been keeping everything under the radar, but it’s not the end of the world if it comes out. The fact that we made it this far is something.”
You gave him a soft smile.
“Besides, think of it like this, if it comes out now, we will be able to go to the premiere together. It would be nice to be able to hold your hand on that carpet. You know how I get.”
Your smile got a bit wider as you imagined the two of you being able to walk that carpet openly. It hadn’t been as fun to attend the premieres when you had to monitor how close you were standing to each other or worrying that you were paying each other too much attention. Plus, Chris got such bad anxiety that not being able to hold your hand to recenter himself was a hassle.
“I guess being on your arm wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” You said with a slight smile. “Especially if you're going to wear one of those tank tops.” You teased him.
“You know what, I take it back. Having you poke fun at me the whole time, you can walk by yourself.” He playfully retorted.
You both laughed and you finally felt yourself at ease with the whole situation.
“Yeah, Yeah, yeah. You love me.” You sassed at him.
He kissed your lips deeply. “Yeah, I do.”
Taglist:
@annasrefuge @chrisevansdaughter
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On Rumor of Treason
Whumptember Day 6: Behind Bars
Summary: News from the front reaches the village guard first. Or, the consequence of Rumple's actions.
Read on AO3
Footsteps crunch on the snow outside. Milah ceases her soft humming and looks up from her sewing. But no knocking or friendly voices follow the steps. Instead, a trio of guards burst through her door.
“Come with us,” the first guard orders. “Now.”
Milah presses back against the back of her chair. “Why?” she asks.
The guard yanks her roughly to her feet, her sewing dropping to the floor. He backhands her across the face, and she yelps and stumbles. “Because I say so,” he snaps and before she can reach for the tender spot, he’s twisting her arm painfully behind her back. The second guard smirks, as if amused by his companion’s cruelty, but the third scowls and spits into the hearth.
“Hurry it up,” he grumbles. “She’s not worth the time.” The second guard springs into action at that, grabbing her other arm and wrenching it behind her as well. Pinned on both sides by both guards, her struggling is useless and she stills. Satisfied by this compliance, the third guard dumps her water pail over the fire, plunging the house into darkness.
The guards march her outside without her cloak. Two torches wait for them, stuck into the snowbank by the door. The third guard picks up both and leads the way through the frosty night to the guards’ fort.
Milah isn’t dressed for this weather. The cold worms its way under her dress, making her shiver.
“Why are you doing this?” she asks again, with new desperation. She wants to go home. “I’ve done nothing wrong.”
“Do you ever shut up?”
“When you give me answers.”
There’s a shifting behind her and one of her arms is passed from one hand to another. She’s spun forcefully around to face the first guard.
“I should have known better than to expect respect from the likes of you,” he says, and slaps her again. The crack of his hand against her cheek is loud in the quiet night and so is her cry of pain. Milah looks to the ground, not wanting to know if anyone in the nearby houses has come to see the commotion. Her face burns with shame as well as pain. “You will be quiet,” the guard warns, “or we will beat you when we get there.”
Normally, Milah might have pushed the issue. She might have found knowing the reason for this mistreatment (and what the guard meant by “the likes of you”) worth the risk of a beating. But now she shudders to think what a beating would do to the baby inside her, the fragile life that can only withstand so much damage to her body, and she obeys.
In the dungeon of the fort, she is shoved into a cell. Not hard enough to fall, but nearly, and she stumbles to the back of the cell before catching herself with a hand on the wall. She turns to face the guards, looking back at them through the bars of her cage.
“Please,” she whispers, exhausted and drained of nearly all her dignity. “Let me go.”
The guards only laugh at her obvious terror.
“A coward, just like that bastard she took up with,” the third guard accuses, and spits again. The second guard clicks the lock shut. With the sound echoing the finality that she is trapped, the guards turn as one and leave her there.
Milah leans back against the wall, all but collapsing into it. The baby kicks and she rubs at the spot, trying to soothe them both. It’ll be all right, she thinks to the baby. We’ll be out of here soon. But she isn’t so sure. She doesn’t even know why this is happening. How can she predict how well and how soon it’ll end?
She eases herself to the floor of the cell, shifting futilely for a comfortable position that doesn’t exist before giving up and settling for the best she can do. She needs to focus on tonight, not worry about the distant future. She’s still shaking from fear and, more concerningly, cold. She tries to curl tighter around herself, to preserve the warmth she desperately needs for both her and her baby, but the very bump she’s trying to protect makes it difficult to tuck her knees in tightly enough. Tears rush to her eyes and though she doesn’t want to cry, she’s just as powerless to stop her sobs as she is to do anything else.
Shouting and rattling of the door wake her the next morning. She’s surprised, not having expected herself to fall asleep. She blinks, the dungeon only coming into bleary focus with one of her eyes swollen.
Two guards stand outside the cell, and Milah flinches when she recognizes the one who enters as the cruel guard from the night before. To her relief, he doesn’t hit her again, but he does hurt her, fingers probing for the spot on her arm that makes her wince the most and digging in before he pulls her from the ground. Stiff and sore from cold and uncomfortable sleep, she drags behind him for several paces before getting her balance.
The guards take her to a chamber where the duke and the captain of the guard are waiting. She’s shoved roughly to her knees in front of them and the guards take their own places, standing silently behind their seated superiors.
“You are Milah, yes?” the captain asks. “Wife of the spinner Rumplestiltskin?”
“Yes,” she nods, “that is correct.” Turning imploringly to the duke, she says, “my husband has answered your conscription. We’ve paid our tithes at harvest-tide and committed no crimes. Your Grace, if I may ask, what is this about?” It is a risk to speak so plainly to the duke, but she hopes that she might get out of this by reminding him of her innocence. Anger flashes in the duke’s eyes and Milah quickly ducks her head, seeing that the risk has not paid off.
“You most certainly may not!” the duke thunders. “Remember your place, peasant. It is only I who gets to decide if and how you have displeased me.”
She tenses, expecting pain in retribution for her mistake. When no blow lands, she relaxes slightly and gives a small nod that doesn’t raise her head. “I understand, Your Grace,” she says meekly. The duke owns this village, and it shows in the way he rules. He can decide to take more than his usual share in tithes, order harsh floggings and lengthy imprisonments for the smallest slights and pettiest crimes, even steal people away to be his personal servants. It isn’t cowardice or defeat to defer to him like this, merely sense. Everyone fears the duke.
“Your husband has been injured. Oddly enough, in the war camp just before his first battle.” Milah’s mind skips right past the implication in the captain’s words and focuses on the fact that Rumple is hurt.
“Oh gods,” Milah breathes, raising from her bowed posture. “Will he be all right? Is he well enough to travel? He should be here, so I can tend to him.” So he can tend to me, she adds silently, for having to endure this ordeal. As much as she wants out of this damned fort, she hates that she’ll return to an empty home without her husband there to hold her.
The captain ignores her concern and asks more directly, “Rumplestiltskin is known for being a coward, is he not?”
Milah shakes her head. “His father was,” she corrects. “But some people don’t give him the credit for being his own person.”
“Perhaps because no credit is due!” the duke cuts in impatiently. “I will say this in a way that your stupid peasant brain can comprehend. If your husband maimed himself that is not only cowardice but the very worst sort of it – treason against me!”
Treason.
The word settles heavily into Milah’s blood. It seems she’s finally been given her explanation, but instead of relief she feels only dread.
“I - ” she starts, voice cracking under the weight of her scattered thoughts.
“If you attempt to obscure the truth, that would be aiding in treason and your punishment would be nearly as severe as a traitor’s,” the captain reminds her. “I’d consider carefully what you are about to say.”
“I don’t need to consider.” Her voice is assertive and confident, though she feels anything but. She does need time to consider – not over whether Rumple is guilty, but to process the enormity of it all. But there could never be enough time for that. Treason. They could kill Rumple if she says the wrong thing. “My husband has lived his entire life under the shadow of his father’s cowardice. He’s never wanted anything more than for people to see him for more, to see him for him. He wanted to go to war, to finally have a chance to prove he wasn’t that man. He hated the label of coward so much, why would he run to it now?”
The duke makes an unimpressed hmph sound. But the captain gives her a terse smile. It’s not warm or encouraging by any means except that it isn’t a look of outright anger. That’s enough for her to take it as a good sign, though she tries to tamp down her small glimmer of hope. It’s the duke that needs to be convinced, and he clearly doesn’t want to be.
“I grow sick of this,” the duke says, proving her thoughts.
“Of course, Your Grace.” The captain nods in his direction. “We have heard what we need. Guards, she may leave.”
Milah staggers to her feet, wincing as her knees unbend. Luckily, the guards don’t grab and drag her this time, nor do they follow her out the front door of the fort. They spare her the indignity of being seen as a prisoner, but they needn’t have, for rumors have already reached the village, leaving everyone to see her as something much worse – a traitor’s wife.
#whumptember2023#whumptember2023 day 6#day six: behind bars#whump#lady whump#fear#capture#punishment#struck#once upon a time#milah#fanfic#my writing
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Whumptober came and went and I posted nothing (as expected).
However, the juices are flowing again and here are three pieces ready to be posted in Whumptember.
No 6: Made to Watch. Cobra Kai. Silver finds out about Johnny's healing powers (from With Great Power...) and uses Robby as leverage to get Johnny to heal him.
No 20: Found Family/No 15: I'm fine: Cobra Kai Mexico AU, where Johnny had to fight for Miguel's freedom (and lost), leaving Robby and Miguel in charge of getting them/him to a safe place.
No 20: Found Family/No 21: Restraints/Alt 9: Drugging: Supergirl. Childish Things rewrite with more whump, and in the dark!Winn, fostermom!Cat Grant universe (side note: when was the last time you saw bangs [!] in a character description? Forcibly returning us all to 2012... :D)
All are finished and ready for their last edits! Will probably post one a week leading up to Turkey Day!
#cobra kai#supergirl#whumptober#whumptember#better late than never#johnny lawrence#miguel diaz#robby keene#winn schott#cat grant#alex danvers#lots of sequels this whumptober#my fic ideas
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Día 7-8
@Sicktember: day 7: a cry for attention
@suck-tember: day 8: kiss
@tropetember: day 7: Historical: Regency; day 8: Amnesia
@whumptember: day 7: abandoned/nightmares/separation anxiety; day 8: lying
Siglos después (2846 words) by KiraH69
Fandom: Merlin (TV)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Gwaine/Merlin (Merwaine)
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Regency, Past Lives, Amnesia, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Nightmares, Past Relationship(s)
Series: Part 6 of Eventos de Septiembre 2022
Summary:
La temporada londinense ha comenzado. Tras siglos cambiando de identidad cada poco tiempo, Merlín es ahora el doctor de los nobles. Entre ellos se encuentra un rostro más que familiar.
#sicktember 2022#sucktember2022#tropetember#whumptember2022#merlin#merwaine#fanfic#fanficfion#gwaine#gay#slash#yaoi#fanfic español
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Whumptember 2023, Day 5
“What do you want me to do?”
Owed a favor | Whispered conversation | Sneaking around
The Bee’s Whumptember Masterlist
CW: alcohol, mentioned kidnapping, mentioned potential character death, mentioned gun
Continued HERE
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Caretaker’s eyes shifted warily as they scaled the walls of the enemy base, rope burning in their hands and they hauled themself up, one after the other. This would all be for nothing if they got caught. Less than nothing. They wouldn’t be of any use to Youngest if they were captured, and that was on top of the agony they’d have to endure at the hands of Villain and the rest of their team if they were captured. So don’t get caught, Leader had reasoned. As if it were that simple. As if that weren’t the most obvious thing in the world. But Leader believed in them, and Youngest needed them, so here they were, freezing their ass off on the wind- and snow-swept window ledge of their most formidable foe, praying to God that they could plead well enough to the only person who could truly help save Youngest’s life.
They pressed their hand into the glass, using the friction and sticking frost to pull open the suspiciously unlocked window. No time to dwell on that, Caretaker supposed. They dove in through the small gap and landed into a silent forward roll across the hardwood floor, only to immediately be greeted by the sound of a glass shattering as it was dropped by shocked hands, followed by a long string of curses as the dropper of the glass stared at Caretaker with abject horror.
“Caretaker–” Spy hissed. “What in the actual fuck are–”
A soft knock at the door. “Medic? Everything alright?” Villain called.
Spy glared at Caretaker, commanding them to hide with a sharp nod that even Leader themself wouldn’t question. Caretaker looked around frantically, before spotting a lovely little wooden wardrobe. That’d do.
“Yeah, everything’s– great,” Spy yelled back, speech slurred. “Jus’… dropped the whiskey bottle. Just a little. Probably too much to drink– Imma gonna… gonna… jus’ clean this up an’ head to bed…”
The door creaked open. “You need–”
“Don’t come in!” Spy leaped over to the door and slammed it shut with their full body, back pressed into the painted wood. “I’m not decent!”
A pause. Caretaker bit their lip inside the wardrobe, cursing themself for not choosing any better hiding spot. The door couldn’t even close all the way!
“...alright then.” Villain’s voice finally came through the door, taken aback. “You’re a very strange drunk, Medic… I’ll leave you to it, just put on some clothes before you deal with the glass, yes?”
Spy groaned dramatically, as if Villain had just asked them to egg the neighbor kid’s house. “--fffffff-ine…”
“Thanks. No pity if you’re hungover tomorrow, yeah? Drink some water and get to bed.” Villain knocked on the door twice in lieu of a farewell, and footsteps could be heard creaking down on the hardwood floors, slowly getting quieter as Villain walked away.
Spy slammed open the doors of the wardrobe, very clothed and very sober. “You better have an amazing explanation for this, Caretaker,” they whispered with enough venom to knock out an elephant. They yanked Caretaker out and picked up a towel from where they had just been sitting, turning on their heels toward the broken glass. “Amazing, perfect, justifiable, and totally not insane reason for almost blowing my cover and getting the both of us killed.”
“They have Youngest,” Caretaker whispered urgently, grabbing another piece of fabric at random and following closely behind Spy. Spy didn’t even flinch as they threw their own towel widely over the glass and started collecting it all into the thick cloth.
“Okay. And?”
“That’s all you have to say?!” Caretaker hissed, soaking up the spill with what they now realized was an old t-shirt. “No ‘where?,’ no ‘are they alive?,’ no ‘how can I help save my teammate from being tortured to death?’...”
“What do you want me to do?” Spy finished placing all of the glass into the towel, then trudged to the other side of the room and threw the entire thing away.
“Not sure if you noticed, Caretaker, but they think I work for them. And they need to continue thinking that I work for them until I can finish my directive,” Spy nudged Caretaker out of the way with their foot, kneeling down beside them and finishing the job of drying the spill themself. “And helping one of our captives escape is a wonderful way to make sure all my hard work goes straight down the toilet. Then you’ll have two captives that need saving–” They threw the now alcohol-soaked t-shirt into the hamper across the room.
“--If they don’t put a bullet in my head right there and then.”
“I’m not asking you to save them, idiot,” Caretaker said through gritted teeth. “Just… keep an eye on them, please? You’re their medic. Maybe say they’ve had enough early if the team is torturing them, or, or keep them in the med bay for as long as possible with an unknown illness, or discredit any information they give, or misdiagnose their power so Villain underestimates them, and don’t shoot them if you have the chance to, and on that note, don't let Villain kill them. Just–...” They waved their hands around in front of them frantically, pleading.
“Do something. Don’t just stand by and watch, and for the love of God, don’t join in. Please.”
Spy stared at Caretaker for a long time, face excruciatingly unreadable. “I acknowledge your request for me to help Youngest. Now get the fuck out.” Spy grabbed the collar of Caretaker's shirt and shoved them toward the open window.
“Is that a yes?”
Spy spun Caretaker around to unequivocally ask if they were purposefully trying to kill them, only to find Caretaker's hopelessly worried puppy-dog eyes staring back at them. Always with the puppy-dog eyes. They threw their head back with a groan, fingers pinching the bridge of their nose.
“That’s an ‘I’ll do what I can without compromising my mission.’” Spy stated. “Now leave. I can’t have you getting hurt too.”
Caretaker let out a sigh of relief as they leaped up onto the window ledge. They crouched down to fiddle with the rope. “Thank you, Spy. Seriously, it means a lot." Caretaker stared down into the frozen white dust-filled abyss below them. "See you later. I missed you.”
Spy’s shoulders sagged a little. “I missed you too. Send my regards to the team.”
“Will do.” Caretaker saluted to Spy. They pulled on their repelling rope to make sure it was secure, and they were just about to swing back out, when–
“Oh, and Caretaker?” Spy called out from behind them.
“Ye–” Caretaker turned around, but before they could react, Spy reached up and yanked their head downward by the back of the neck, desperately shoving their lips onto theirs. Caretaker almost pulled back from the shock and force of it, only before fully closing their eyes and leaning down harder into the kiss. Caretaker's breath shuddered hot on Spy’s face as their hand grasped at the back of Spy’s head, the other pulling them in tighter from the spot it found nestled in the arch of their back, holding Spy ever closer so the moment never had to end.
Spy finally pulled back and gazed into Caretaker’s eyes, breathless. “Don’t get caught.”
“I could say the same to you,” Caretaker chuckled lowly. “Please.”
Spy scoffed and rolled their eyes, pushing Caretaker's chest lightly. “I won’t.”
Caretaker stood and backed up to the very edge of the ledge, grinning from ear to ear. “See you on the other side, Spy.” They grabbed the remaining slack of their rope and vaulted backward off the edge of the windowsill, pumping their fists and grinning like a 5-year-old at a birthday party.
“That we will,” Spy muttered. They poured themself another glass of whiskey, a real one this time, as they gazed at the spot where Caretaker disappeared.
“One way or the other…”
@whumptember
#whumptember2023#whumptember day 5#day five: what do you want me to do#day five: whispered conversation#day five: sneaking around#whump#whump scenario#whump writing#team whump#caretaker#writeblr#just realized i tagged this and day 6 wrong for the whumptember 2023 tag#im a fkn idiot#this one is so good too!#fixed now tho#so hopefully it still gets reblogged on the official blog#hoping and praying and crying for it lol#wouldnt blame them for not reblogging day 6 tho that ones a TRIP
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Bloody clothes
day 6 of @whumptember
431 words
warnings: teenage whumpee, bloody clothes, conditioned whumpee (implied)
part one | part three | part four | part five | part six
---
Hero sits next to Villain, cheek resting against his shoulder as the sun rises. She sighs and looks up at him, “Do you wanna go wake him up? I need to get back before Superhero sends a search party. I didn’t tell him I was coming here. Didn’t think it’d be the best idea, y’know?”
Villain smiles and nods, “Just…wait here? I didn’t tell him I was calling you.”
“Sure,” Hero smiles, “Yeah, that’s probably best.”
Villain stands up and takes their empty mugs to the kitchen, gently setting them in the sink before walking down the hallway and knocking on the door.
“Vigilante? Are you awake?” He pushes the door open and takes a step in the room.
Vigilante shoots up from the bed, he pushes back to the headboard and pulls the blanket with him. Panting, he looks at Villain.
Villain raises his hands slowly and takes another step forward, “Sorry, I…I should’ve waited for you to answer. Are you alright?”
Vigilante scoffs but relaxes a little, the white-knuckle grip on the sheets loosening a little. “What’s going on?”
“I called someone and she’s going to take you with her. You’ll be safer with her than I could ever imagine you being here.” Villain flips the light switch on and Vigilante winces at the brightness. “Do you wanna go meet her, or do you want her to come in here?”
He shakes his head, “I don’t-I’m not gonna leave you. I don’t feel safe with anyone but you. Please…don’t make me go?”
Villain sighs and sits on the foot of the bed, ignoring the pang in his heart when Vigilante pulls farther away.
“I can’t keep you safe,” he says softly. “She’s good at doing that, she kept me safe for a long time, and I know it’s scary. But it’s what’s best. Trust me?”
Vigilante leans his head against the headboard and takes a deep breath. He looks back at Villain and nods, “I’ll go out there. But…not right now?
“Yeah,” Villain smiles and laughs in relief, “Of course! Take your time.” He stands up and turns to leave, but his eyes catch on something.
A small pile of clothes are heaped in the corner of the room, blood spotting the cloth. Villain walks towards it and picks it up, “I’ll wash these for you, yeah?”
Vigilante stares blankly at them, he shakes his head. “Just throw them out.” he closes his eyes and curls into himself. “Please.”
Villain nods and holds everything under his arm, trying his best to hide all the dark brown stains from Vigilante.
#whumptember#whumptember2023#whumptember2023 day 6#bloody clothes#teenage whumpee#vigilante whumpee#villain caretaker#escaped whumpee#whump#whump fic#whump writing#my writing#whumpee#caretaker
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Tags and Posting
1. Please use the tag #whumptember2023 for any and all submissions
2. For individual days, use the tag #whumptember day x and the prompt (ex: #whumptember2023, #day one: let me go, #whumptember2023 day 1) this helps me stay organized and reblog things on the right day
3. Feel free to post early or late, just be sure to tag correctly!
4. Be sure to tag with any warnings, if it’s not properly tagged, I won’t reblog it
5. If you use an alternate prompt, tag it #altprompt x (ex: #whumptember2023, altprompt one: returning to the battlefield)
6. There is no limit to how long or short your entry can be
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Whumptember 2023 Masterlist
Since I'm mostly posting my fics on Ao3 now and only really cross-posting them here for BTHB, I've decided that a masterlist with links to my Ao3 works would be simpler for Whumptember 2023 (partly because I actually understand Ao3's tagging and warning system, which are crucial to the event). Also, since I'm combining Whumptember prompts with the remaining prompts from my BTHB card, I'll still post the fics fulfilling BTHB on Tumblr, but all of the remaining Whumptember fics will just be linked on this masterlist.
Here is a link to my Whumptember 2023 series on Ao3 that has more info about how I'm tackling this writing challenge. Links to individual fics are under the cut and will be updated as I post. As always, I hope you enjoy!
Day 1: The Hubris of Our Forefathers
Day 2*: Like an Answered Prayer ch. 1
Day 3*: Between the Shoulder Blades ch. 1
Day 4: Blood of My Blood ch. 1
Day 5: One Foot In
Day 6: Blood of My Blood ch. 2
Day 7*: Blood of My Blood ch. 3
Day 8*: Between the Shoulder Blades ch. 2
Day 9*: Between the Shoulder Blades ch. 3
Day 10*: Like an Answered Prayer ch. 2
Day 11*: Lavender Tea
Day 12*: Home and Bodies
Day 13*: Talking Ghosts
Day 14*: To Steal and Steel a Heart
Day 15*: Absence and Adhesion
Day 16*: When the Caught Fly Spins a Web of Its Own
Day 17: Between the Shoulder Blades ch. 4
Day 18*: Between the Shoulder Blades ch. 5
Day 19: How to Play a Pair of Kings
Day 20: Empty Isn't Nothing
Day 21*: Like an Answered Prayer ch. 3
Day 22*: Between the Shoulder Blades ch. 6
Day 23*: Quicksand
Day 24: Living Metamorphosis
Day 25: Like an Answered Prayer ch. 4
Day 26*: Bury Us Together
Day 27*: Fading Visions of Grandeur
Day 28*: Between the Shoulder Blades ch. 7
Day 29*: We Were Out of Time
Day 30: Between the Shoulder Blades ch. 8
*Days demarcated with an asterisk also fulfill my BTHB card prompts and can be found on Tumblr and Ao3
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