whumped-by-glitter

[whumped-by-glitter]

Man, it'd certainly be a shame if Thomas got into a boating accident or something, preferably in shark infested waters 😏

Tying Up Loose Ends

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Okay I'm back!

(But you had hardly left!)

Whatever! Here's the next chapter and the conclusion of this

TW/CW: creepy whumper, jealous whumper, manipulative whumper (I guess?), nsfwhump (not graphically described), noncon (at the very end, not graphically described, and honestly you could end the chapter just before it happens and it would still make sense)

A rhythmic series of knocks reverberated through the door of the office at half past eleven, just as Thomas had planned. He scooted closer towards his desk and minimized the windows he had opened on his desktop PC. “Come in,” he replied.

The door cracked open. The kid –Nico, my nephew, Michael once told him–stepped hesitantly inside, shoulders to ears, brows drawn tensely. “Y-you wanted to see me, Boss?”

“I did.” He gestured to a chair in front of the desk. Nico approached it stiffly, visibly uncomfortable being so close to the Don of the Costa Family. “Oh come on, sit down, I don’t bite, you know!” he chuckled.

Nico briefly looked around the room, eyes bright and alert. “Wait, where’s Khaled?” he asked, blinking at the empty space behind the Boss’ chair.

“On a coffee run,” Thomas answered simply. He suppressed an eye roll as Nico looked down, squinting at the bottom of the desk as if he could see through it if he stared hard enough. He cleared his throat, and Nico snapped his gaze back up. “I could ask him to get you something before he leaves the café, if you’d like?”

Nico shook his head. “I wouldn’t want to inconvenience him like that,” he insisted. The young man drew back the chair and took his seat across from the Don, and waited in questioning silence.

No matter how many times he had rehearsed this meeting in his head, nor how many arrangements he had to make over the past couple days to lead the boy to this point, Thomas still couldn’t help the nerves that feathered into the edges of his composure. Keep it cool, keep your tone calm, never betray how you truly feel, stay in control, a familiar voice once told him.

“So, how’s school?” An innocuous line, and as good an opener as any.

“Great, it’s been great.” Nico huffed an awkward little laugh as he hung his signature smile. “Which reminds me, thank you so much for allowing me this job in the first place, sir! I never got to thank you properly, or in person before-”

Thomas stopped him with one raised palm. “Hey, hey, that wasn’t all me. Let’s give a little credit to your Uncle Mike, too, right?” Nico conceded with another awkward laugh. “I understand it that this job helps you pay for your schooling, is that correct?”

“I mean, yeah,” Nico began to answer. “I don’t know how much college was back in your day, let alone law school-”

I never went to college, Thomas remembered, trailing off into his own thoughts as Nico kept nervously rambling. That was never really my scene. Never really had the brains for it, or the personability, according to my teachers. My brother, the Golden Child, on the other hand…

He redirected his thoughts at the right time where Nico started to complain about the most important part. “Wait, can you say that again?” he requested.

“My last tuition payment didn’t go through,” Nico repeated, an edge of desperation in his voice. “And if I don’t scrounge up enough money within the next two months, I won’t be able to afford my next semester’s worth of classes!”

Thomas gave a sympathetic expression of concern, even though he knew about this all along. After all, he was the one who delayed the payment to the college. “Is that so?” he asked with feigned interest.

The door cracked open again, though this time a familiar young intern entered. He cradled a cup of coffee in one hand and carried a takeout bag in the other. The guard whipped his head around, nearly bolting from his chair in shock. “Khaled?”

“Nico?” The boy approached, dumbfounded as he wordlessly set the spoils of his errand onto the Boss’ desk.

“You actually were out?” This time, Thomas rolled his eyes. Was it so hard to believe he used his fuck toy for honest work sometimes? (He supposed maybe yes, considering how much Nico had probably inadvertently witnessed over the past three years.)

Khaled’s well-timed entry provided a natural transition to the second half of his plan. “Speaking of which, I would like to thank you for looking out for Khaled this last weekend,” Thomas said. His boy silently took up post behind the desk, standing up straight with eyes slightly downcast, as he had trained him. “You’re a good kid for that. Most guys, they probably would’ve taken liberties, but not you.” Thomas craned his neck to look over his office chair. “Isn’t he a good kid?”

“Yes, sir,” Khaled readily agreed.

“Oh, no, please, I’d have done that for anybody! He’s my friend.” Thomas noticed how Nico cast a furtive glance at the boy behind him.

Friend, my ass. The very thought of how ‘friendly’ those two might have gotten had he not intervened that night made him seethe in possessive jealousy, though he maintained that icy façade of control.

“Of course, even if Khaled doesn’t remember it, you and I both know he was a wreck, wasn’t he?” The boy had sworn up and down and sideways that he didn’t remember what he had told his friend that night, no matter how much he’d tried to beat a confession out of him. Thomas leaned over the desk, dropping the volume of his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. Since Khaled still had no idea what he had told Nico, the next best course of action was to discredit his words entirely. “He was saying some pretty crazy things, wasn’t he? Things that you and I both know not to take too seriously?”

“Well… I don’t know” Nico began, “don’t they say ‘in vino veritas?’”

“Don’t they also say ‘God don’t pay tuition?’”

You’re being too blunt again, a familiar voice in his memory chastised. Yet he couldn’t help but smile as he saw understanding dawn on the young man’s face. “Well, go on,” he coaxed the young man standing behind him. “Tell him.”

Khaled bristled uncomfortably before hanging his head low. “He’s right,” he agreed somberly. “I may not remember what I said, but, it was probably not true. You should just forget it.”

“But, Khaled-” Nico began to protest.

“You heard him yourself, kid,” Thomas cut in. “Now, you’re gonna forget whatever it was he said when he was wasted, and just keep studying hard, alright?”

Nico attempted to make meaningful eye contact beyond the boss’ shoulder, but Thomas didn’t have to turn around to know Khaled would keep his eyes firmly fixed to the floor. The young guard let out a defeated sigh as he slumped back in the chair and offered a small, reluctant nod. “Yes, sir. Like it never even happened,” he muttered.

Check mate.

“Good boy.” Thomas leaned back in his chair, his hands folding on the top of the desk as his mouth curled into a small smirk of victory. “Now, try contacting Student Financial Services again. I have a feeling your tuition payment might’ve been resolved after all.” He waved him off with a final self-satisfied smile. “You may go.”

The kid looked green around the gills as he pushed himself up from the chair and excused himself from the room. As soon as he left, Thomas swiveled around to face the boy behind him. Khaled ventured a resentful, hopeless glare into his owner’s eyes before looking once again to the floor. “Well?” he goaded. Khaled did not rise to the bait.

Thomas pushed away from the desk, motioning to the familiar darkness underneath the hardwood like he was commanding a dog to lie. “Go on.” He took a sip of the slightly cooled coffee as he watched his intern crouch and fold himself into the space with stiff reluctance. “You know what to do, and you know how hard you need to work to get back in my good graces,” he sneered. “Now, put that tongue of yours to a better use.” He pushed himself back in and trapped the young man underneath the desk.

Le Tag List: @kabie-whump @rainydaywhump @whumped-by-glitter @skittles-the-whumpee @generic-whumperz @bamber344

#whump writing #creepy whumper #jealous whumper #manipulative whumper #nsfwhump #tw implied noncon #not my writing #this is so good!

[whumped-by-glitter]

Ahhhhh!!!! I love it!! I need more King Khaled AU!!!!!

From your ask game 😊:

👑: Khaled as Royalty, please! (Bonus: Dasa as his slave or captive.... 😈)

Here you go!

#my oc #someone else’s oc #royalty au #slavery whump #3 2 whump art #artists on tumblr

[whumped-by-glitter]

This is getting good! *grabs the popcorn*

An Axe, A Forest - 3

The weapon had lost track of how much time had passed since that door opened. She'd slept a little. Maybe. But food hadn't been delivered so maybe she hadn't. Her stomach gnawed at her ribs like an unhappy animal at the bars of its enclosure and she bent over her knees to stifle the noise.

The darkness was oppressive, choking every thought that tried to form in her mind. She tried to recall the faces of her family, of the soldiers she was in basic with. Hell, she even tried to remember what she, herself, looked like. All she could find was formless smoke where her face should be.

Floating between dizzying sleep and motion sick wakefulness, Fugue became aware of the boots on the floor outside her door. Her heart started slamming a wild dance against her sternum and she pressed further into the corner, shielding her face from the white-hot rectangle of light that pierced through the dark.

“AEX-1307, do not move.”

The Handler. Voice sharp, command clear. The weapon stayed as still as she could, long dirty fingernails digging into the skin of her legs as she waited.

Steps. Her brows pinched. More than one set.

Pain studies were taught by multiple hands, multiple boots. This was training, then. She could handle it.

But no blows came.

The Handler was speaking again, his voice shifted into something quiet and poisonous. A shuddering breath, a shuffle of feet on the dirt. The snap of an ordered “Sit”.

There was a great thump of something dropped onto the floor before the booted feet walked one, two, three, four, five, six, back to the door.

“AEX-1307, meet DGA-67. Maintain ‘friendly’ command unless otherwise directed. Understood?”

“Yes, Handler.” The weapon croaked, still unmoving. Her throat burned with unspoken questions.

“DGA-67. Command ‘docile’ now in effect.”

“Yes, Handler.”

That was a new one. A new voice. From the middle of the floor. The weapon’s breathing quickened and grew louder as the door closed. There was someone else in the room. A person? Another weapon?

She wasn't sure what to do with this. The dark swallowed her once more and she fought with her body to quiet it as she listened.

Fast, wispy inhales. A wheeze on the exhale. Something scratching in the dirt. The rattle of metal. A deeper inhale.

“Hello?” The newcomer, DGA, spoke into the empty space between them. Fugue straightened her back slowly and turned towards the speaker.

“I'm here.” It was like she choked on a sob as she spoke. It had been so long.

“Where? I can't see.”

“Keep talking. I'll follow.”

DGA spoke in a tiny voice, not sure what to say but speaking anyways, as Fugue crawled towards them on her hands and knees. It was an achingly long moment before she got close enough to feel the puffs of breath from the other weapon.

Her fingers found a knee under ragged, scratchy fabric, then they found a hip, a stomach. DGA felt along Fugue's back and shoulders.

Both of them were shaking as they embraced.

The hug was tight, full of screams that wouldn't come and tears that came in quantities that would flood the world. Fugue could feel the newcomer's heart beating rapidly against her own. Her hand found the back of a closely shaved head and pressed DGA’s face into her shoulder and started rocking.

“What's your name?”

“I don't- it's Dog. They call me fucking Dog.”

—---------------

“Fugue? Hey.” The captain snapped his fingers before her face, making her blink and refocus her gaze on him.

“I apologize, sir. What did you ask?”

“I wanted to know about this individual called Dog. They have her listed alongside you on several training reports.”

Fugue felt her mouth going sour and she clasped her hands before her, squeezing them so hard it hurt. Dog. Friendly. Train.

Sacrifice.

“Yes, sir. What did you need to know?”

The captain eyed her reaction, humming in his throat before continuing. “How long did you work together?”

“One month.” The answer came quick, easy. Her previous Handler told her that was the right way to answer a superior.

“You both were trained in irregular warfare tactics and close quarters combat and were housed together. Does that feel correct?”

Fugue inhaled slow and deep, thinking back to the sessions at the facility.

The two of them, left alone in that room for what must have been days, were eventually pulled, washed and dressed, and thrown into a training session with only one directive: kill the red targets.

Specifically, the Handler said “AEX and DGA, we are working with a new command today. ‘Hunt’.”

The lights of that room dimmed to a merciless ultraviolet and the two weapons, each given a pistol and a knife, moved into the room with their bodies pressed close. Sound pumped into the room, low vibration making the floor shake under their feet with intense bass. Every 60 seconds, the Handler's voice rang out through the speakers in the corners of the room.

“Hunt.” Was all he said. When a kill was achieved, either by Fugue or by Dog, his voice would become warm and he'd practically purr “Good work” to them.

The exercise lasted 20 minutes.

All red targets were annihilated, but Fugue had taken a slice along her thigh. She was dragged from Dog to receive medical attention, rough hands holding her down as she was stitched closed, and she was returned to the closet where she found Dog waiting. They crawled to one another, whispering, discussing, soothing. Dog's fingers pressed into sore muscles and Fugue dragged her nails lightly over the other weapon's scalp.

It was in this way that their training continued for the month they worked together. Pulled, trained, treated, returned. Some days, the pain studies came for them both and they were forced to listen to the other as they were made to endure agonizing, torturous beatings. Fugue insisted that it was to help them learn to tolerate pain.

Dog said it was abuse.

Back in her new handler's office, Fugue smiled sadly and nodded. “Yes, that's correct. We learned a lot together. She was a good teammate.”

The captain didn't ask for more. He got what he needed.

“I want you to go and eat something, but you should stop by the med wing first. Tabor wants to run some tests with you before the day gets on too long. Is that clear?”

The weapon nodded. “Med wing, then food.”

“Good work.” Fugue felt heat blossom in her chest at the words. “You can find Tabor back down the hall, past the kitchen on the right. If he is not there, get breakfast and visit him after. Dismissed.”

Fugue stood, snapping to attention to salute her handler before turning on her heel in an about face and leaving to complete her tasks. Back past the kitchen she went, listening once more to the conversation of her fellow soldiers as they ate. Something in her belly ached to join them, to sit and be seen, but her legs forced her forward with such a pace that she was nearly panting by the time she made it to the medic’s room.

It was obviously a living room at some point, but it had been gutted and transformed into a miniature hospital. Monitors of all kinds decorated a wall above a hydraulic metal table. Towards the opposite wall, there were three empty beds in a row near a beautiful pair of glass doors leading out to a garden. By the table, a desk had been set up and Tabor himself was scrolling through something on the computer there.

“Be right with you.” He called, not turning his head. His accent was Southern, Fugue decided, lilting as it rolled over his tongue. She stood, hands loose at her sides, and took him in.

The man was tall, she knew that, and lanky as taffy being pulled by hand. His hair was black and left as long as he could get away with. He had a scar over his nose and down one cheek and, when he finally looked at her, his eyes were the silver gray of mercury.

And his grin was infectious.

“Well, our resident weapon has decided to grace me with her presence. Come in, please. Have a seat on that table, yeah? Let me get a look at you.”

The weapon moved to obey, hopping up into the table as the medic stood and approached her. He didn't come all the way to her, not right away. He stopped exactly 2 feet from the weapon and those soft gray eyes scanned her from head to toe.

“You remember me from last night?” The question was weightless, calm. Genuine.

“Yes, sir. You're the medic for the unit.”

He nodded enthusiastically. “Good! And you're called Fugue. Is that a comfortable name for you?”

Comfortable? “It's… my name.”

“Hmm. You're right, of course. Now, Fugue, I'd like to come closer and give you an examination. I have records from the WSMT facility with your medical files attached but I like to collect that information myself for each of my teammates. Do I have your permission to do so with you?”

Fugue stared.

She watched the man tilt an eyebrow up towards his hairline as he waited for her reply. Her lips felt like they were buzzing. There was no answer for him.

“Fugue?”

“I don't understand the question, sir.”

“I was looking for your consent to come closer.” He clarified. The weapon sat still, hands braced on the edge of the table with her green eyes nearly vacant. Tabor sighed and held up both hands. He could see those eyes track over the width of his palms and the length of his fingers.

“I understand that was hard for you. It's okay. Let me try again.” He smiled, scars crinkling a bit. “I am going to approach you. I'm going to come to stand by your right knee. I am going to take your vitals first, so I'll be using this stethoscope. Do you understand?”

“I understand, sir.” There. Her expression switched, no longer vacant but now keen and willing. He almost felt sick.

“Good. Thank you.” He moved slowly, hands still plainly in sight. The man walked forward and did exactly as he said he would. The heat flowing off his body felt almost soothing on her knee as he unwrapped the stethoscope from around his neck.

“Now, I'll need access to your chest. Would you please remove your shirt if you are comfortable doing so?” There was that hesitation again. Confusion. But she pulled the shirt off from the bottom so she was left sitting in only a dark blue sports bra. Tabor's eyes widened as he took her in.

“Well, fuck.”

#whump #living weapon #whump community #military whump #military characters #living weapon whumpee #not my writing

[whumped-by-glitter]

writing tips/inspo/help

Character Movements #1

Punctuating Dialogue

50 WORDS TO USE INSTEAD OF “SAID”

traits turned sour

DESCRIBING THE PHYSICAL ATTRIBUTES OF CHARACTERS:

Vary your language with synonyms to use instead of "said"

WEBSITES FOR WRITERS

Descriptions in Between Dialogue

switch up your verbs (part one) ~

words to use when writing

writing resources - smut

Writing Resources: References

Writing Resources: Advice and Motivation

Writing Resources: Basics

Writing Resources: Characters

Writing References: Narratives

words to use when writing

writing perfect betrayal

toxic traits

words to use instead of...

fight scene

how to create a supermarket setting

kissing vocab

smut writing

how to show emotions

a list of prompts

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Thank you for listening to my lore babble @3-2-whump!

✨Having someone who is invested in your story and discusses it with you is like a solid half of the fun of writing. I'm not even kidding.✨

#my writing #reblog #whump community

[whumped-by-glitter]

Poor Khaled, even his author is calling him names now, but Khaled, hun, you are a train wreck, we love you for it, though! ❤️

What he did with the new phone

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This took me five minutes to type and alter my search history for the better/worse. This hardly counts as new content. Just a little flavor enhancer, if you will.

We love you Khaled, you little trainwreck ❤️

Le Tag List: @kabie-whump @rainydaywhump @whumped-by-glitter @skittles-the-whumpee @generic-whumperz @bamber344

#someone else's oc #whumpee #angst #whump community #whump writing #additional information from the latest chapter of eternal #this story is amazing

[whumped-by-glitter]

Kinda feels like actual footage of my life.... who snuck cameras into my living room?

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boop! :3

Rawr 🦖

#asks open #whump community #positivity #humor #random

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Hypersomnia yay

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A picrew of Khaled and Dasa ❤️

(Khaled belongs to @3-2-whump)

Picrew Here

#whump community #my ocs #someone else's oc #multiple whumpees #whumpee #cute

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Take your time! We'll be looking forward to it!

Whump Quote 4

“Say it like you mean it, and maybe I’ll believe it, too.”

Hey guys, I’m taking a brief siesta from writing as I work out this next chapter for the Eternal Series, and I wanted you to have something to chew on while I’m gone. I will still be accessible on tumblr but I won’t be making anything new for a bit.

Im gonna read a book or something.

[whumped-by-glitter]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who liked or reblogged something from you! Get to know your mutuals and followers ❤️

@3-2-whump

My pets- a dog, 3 cats, a toad, and several aquariums.

School / my degree

My writing

Warm weather (I live in Wisconsin, we only get 4 good months!)

This newfound community called the whump community. I seriously love you guys all so much!

@3-2-whump

#whump community #positivity #Spread the happiness #silver lining

[whumped-by-glitter]

🧙 for Annika?

Hello! Thank you for the ask!

Annika does have some healing powers, all Tallisians do, though they are not well developed. So Jarek, with his knowledge of field first aid, is usually doing the healing. She does get better at it over the years, though (much to Dasa’s relief and Jarek’s dismay 😂).

Ask Prompt Here

@tildeathiwillwrite

#whump #whump community #ask game #whump ask game #whump ask

[whumped-by-glitter]

Trans men are men, trans women are women, and twinks are not scary (sorry, twinks, love y'all). Also gender and sexuality does not determine sexual preferences. That is all, continue scrolling, have a great day, everyone.

[whumped-by-glitter]

I do love ask games! 🤣. If you pick a caretaker question, you can specify either Jarek, Annika, or both. (I've decided Annika counts as a caretaker).

Ask Me About…Medieval Fantasy Whump!

Hear ye, hear ye! By order of His/Their Majesty Jack Ninja, the good people of Whumpcommunityshire shall be bestowed with ye olde medieval fantasy ask game, handcrafted to match this most illustrious genre. Any and all whump blogs are hereby royally invited to reblog! Foresooth and alas, and so on!

Okay, that’s enough of that. Here’s the second game for this project…three days late, but who’s counting? I’m taking suggestions for next week’s- while this Friday’s is decided, after it goes up I’m going to start doing polls to pick the next genre. So if you have an idea, send it in! Major genres only please, don’t get too specific- save that for the custom ask games! Which are still going up. Eventually.

Warning: these are whumpy questions, so they involve some dark content! Torture, weapons, et cetera.

Taglist: @sleepyiswhumping

QUESTIONS FOR WHUMPEE

🥘- what’s your favorite meal in your medieval world? How long has it been since you had it?

👑- what do you think of the current ruler? If you are the current monarch, what do you think of the common folk?

⛓️- have you ever been locked in a dungeon/put in the stocks/undergone medieval torture/some other historical type of punishment?

🦄- have you ever seen a wondrous beast (unicorn, dragon, griffin, etc.)? If you haven’t (or if your world doesn’t have them) which one would you like to see one day?

🧚- have you ever been hurt with magic?

🍻- do you have friends or family still alive? How long has it been since you’ve seen them?

🧜- can you use magic? If not, what would you do if you could?

QUESTIONS FOR WHUMPER

🧪- what’s the worst/your favorite medieval thing you’ve ever done to Whumpee?

🏰- where do you live? A castle? A manor? A townhouse? A shack?

🫅- what class do you fit into in the feudal system? Are you a peasant, a merchant, a member of the clergy, a knight, a noble, or perhaps even royalty?

⚔️- what weapons do you know how to wield?

🔮- what’s your opinion on magic?

🛡️- do you have minions/henchpeople/underlings/an army?

♟️- are you a good strategist?

QUESTIONS FOR CARETAKER

🕯️- how did you rescue/first meet Whumpee?

🧙- do you know any healing magic/spells? If magic doesn’t exist in your world, do you believe in any folk healing practices/old wives’ tales?

🧌- what would you do if you encountered Whumper?

🫖- how do you feel about the rich/the nobility/royalty?

🍞- can you cook? What’s your favorite thing to cook, if you can? If not, what’s your favorite thing to eat? Have you made it for Whumpee yet?

🧝‍♂️- do you have any non-human blood in you? If not, do you know anyone who does? If your world only has humans, what’s your favorite story about mystical creatures?

🏹- do you have any experience with weapons?

#whump #medieval whump #fantasy whump #magic whump #whump ask game #whump ask

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That was so good, OP! Don't be sorry! I liked when Whumper turned their head back down, "I haven't figured out what I want to do with you yet, so don't look at me"

i had a vision please let me just

cw: begging, kinda dehumanizing, attempted murder i guess, bad writing

a whumper breaks into someone’s house (with the intent of killing them). they got a knife or gun in their hand. they find the whumpee and basically chase them all around their house until eventually backing them up into a corner.

at this point, whumpee genuinely believes that they are about to die, so before they can even really think about what they’re doing, they drop to their hands and knees and beg for their life.

most of it is just crying and saying “pleaseplease dont, please-” over and over again. at some point they grabbed onto the killers pant leg like a child would in their desperate attempt for mercy. they don’t even remember doing it to be honest.

once that little outburst is over, whumpee realizes that their begging was not only humiliating, but most likely pointless. whumpee stays frozen in place, like a deer in the headlights, not daring to look up like it’s the only thing keeping them alive.

whumper is unnaturally quiet, and they stay quiet for way too long. whumpee can’t tell from the position they’re in, but whumper was uncharacteristically amused by this little show. normally they would have killed and their victims by now, maybe they’re getting soft.

after a few more minutes of deafening silence, whumpee finally gets enough courage to try and look up at them. their eyes almost reach their face when whumper grabs their hair, and slowly (but roughly) leans their head back down.

now whumpee is confused. are they still going to kill them? are they going to let them go? that seems way to easy… whumpers hand is still lingering on their head, in a way that could almost be mistaken as comforting.

whumpee was almost going to say something when whumpers hand starts moving, they flinch violently as they feel fingers ruffling their hair, as if they were a dog.

whumpee has a feeling they aren’t going to be let go anytime soon.

(sorry for the horrible writing i’ve never really done one of these before, and also i’m really tired)

#whump #whump community #whump scenario #whump tropes #whump writing #whumpblr #whump prompt #someone else's prompt

[whumped-by-glitter]

This made my morning, the lizard one 🤣

Tactoon-cat Cartoons

#morning chuckle