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vanne-whump · 3 years

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whumptober day six

no. 6 - touch and go

bruises | touch starved | hunger

OCs: Asta/Damien Ravenelle, Katarina Laurier-Bancroft, Zero

Content: Pet Whump, Food Mention, Muzzling

Zero kept his head down as he knelt on the kitchen tiles, bruised knees burning in an all too familiar way. Off to his side, Asta — that’s what Katarina had called him — was getting some sleep.

But Zero knew it wasn’t voluntary. Being unconscious wasn’t the same as being asleep.

She cooked, humming to herself as she put together breakfast, dancing across the kitchen to the radio — knee length skirt flaring out with every movement.

Zero just looked down. Traced the blurry tiles with his gaze. Only able to distinguish between the most contrasted of the patterns. The true delicacy was lost on him.

Two bowls clattered to the floor. Zero’s own ceramic one, carefully engraved with his name, and Asta’s. Stainless steel. Scratched and dented.

Both were filled with oatmeal. Boring. But safe. Edible.

Katarina must have passed him — Zero hadn’t seen — and shaken Asta awake. The initial quiet protest. The immediate flurry of motion. Asta crashing backwards into the wall as he stumbled away. Sobbing from behind a muzzle as he conceded.

They always conceded. And he was right to. Katarina peeled the muzzle away from his face, leaving it on the couch.

Zero was rigid as Asta came past him. As Katarina instructed him to eat, told him he’d be hungry if he didn’t. Softly spoken coercion veiled as concern.

Zero too.

It was all the encouragement Zero needed to crawl across, pressing grazed palms against cold tile. Beside him, he felt Asta’s form. Frozen in fear, a jerking flinch at every movement made.

And Zero wished, more than anything, he could be of comfort. He could help Asta adjust. But with Katarina looming over them to ensure Asta’s behaviour, it was too much of a risk.

Asta knelt beside him, shaking with violent, uncontrollable tears. Deep rooted panic as Katarina went about her day behind them.

“Eat,” Zero’s voice was beyond hoarse when he finally spoke.

No recognition from Asta. Only a gentle flinch. If Zero could see him clearly, he would understand.

“Eat,” he repeated, putting out a hand to rest on Asta’s shoulder.

Even the gentlest of contact elicited a violent flinch, before Asta sat still. Before he allowed Zero to touch him. Before he gave in.

There was so much that Zero wanted to explain. To save Asta from the same learning curve he himself had endured. Ease the fear. Give him a chance.

Zero broke the contact when Asta finally leant forward. Moments later, Zero heard him eat.

It was only when Zero truly focused did he realise Asta’s hands were forced behind his back. Zip tied, Zero thought. But he wasn’t sure.

He was told to eat again. Told he’d go hungry if he didn’t. The threats were strikingly familiar. Came around like clockwork at every meal.

He took a bite of his own food, if only to appease Katarina. Oatmeal sprinkled with sugar and finely chopped banana. No more. Despite the hunger — how he was painfully aware of it in the pit of his stomach — he didn’t eat.

Zero waited agonising minutes while Asta ate beside him. Awkward, jerky movements as he tried to keep his balance. Tried not to choke.

Asta sat back, and Zero made a quick, clumsy movement. He pushed his own bowl across. Scraping it against the floor, lying it to rest vaguely in front of Asta.

“Eat,” Zero whispered, “Please.”

Trust me, you’ll need it.

Trust me, you won’t eat tonight.

Trust me.

But he could only force out the single words.

He just hoped they were enough.

@whumptober2021 @whumptober-archive

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vanne-whump · 3 years

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whumptober day five

no. 5 - i’ve got red in my ledger

betrayal | misunderstanding | broken nose

masterlist (to see snippets in chronological order)

OCs: Kay Edwards, Rory Cooper (belongs to @whumpymirages)

Content: Cursing, Argument, Questionable Relationship, Therapy Mention

“I’m not asking for special treatment,” Kay snapped, “If you’ve got a problem, then say it.”

“A problem? Of course I have a fucking problem, Kay. Have you heard yourself recently? You need help!”

“I’ve got you.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it. You need real help. Not from me.”

Kay bit his tongue, keeping his gaze steadily on Rory. “How long have you felt like that? This hasn’t come from nowhere.”

“You really want honesty?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“It’s been a while,” Rory admitted. “But I’m sure that you can see why. This isn’t healthy and nothing is going to change.”

“I’m trying my best,” a half-hearted rebuttal. “I swear, Rory, I’m trying.”

Rory sighed and shook his head. Pity. “I get that, Kay, but there comes a point where trying isn’t good enough. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“You want me to — I don’t know? Move out? Get a therapist?”

Rory nodded. “I know that’s not what you want to hear.”

Kay nodded, glancing between Rory and the floor. This was the part he was dreading. Having to finally be honest.

“I did a couple of sessions,” Kay sighed. “But — but she asked a lot of questions. I — I wanted to talk to you before I went back again.”

Rory knew where this was going — where Kay was going with this, but somehow, it still came as a surprise.

“She asked a lot of questions. Mostly about me. And — and I can answer those. I don’t mind. But she wanted to know about you. And I told her a bit, but I just —”

“You wanted to make sure that it was okay?” Rory interrupted, and Kay gave a quick nod.

“I swear, I didn’t say anything bad. I promise I would never do…” Kay cut himself off. “I — I just need to know what I can tell her. If — if there are things I need to hide. You know? You — you don’t deserve to get into trouble over this.”

Rory did deserve to get into trouble. But Kay didn’t want to hear that — it would only end in argument. About how Rory didn’t hurt him, morphing into how Rory didn’t mean to hurt him. Into how Kay didn’t mind. A spiral of toxicity they never seemed to leave.

“It isn’t your responsibility to protect me, you know?” Rory spoke softly. “You know that.”

“But —”

“No, Kay. Shut up. You need to start looking out for yourself. Cut the bullshit.”

“Rory —”

“Don’t even start. You’ve had time to process this, and you’re just pretending all over again. And how’s that working out for you?”

“I get your point.”

“I don’t think you do. If you’re asking me if it’s okay, then you don’t get my point.”

There was a moment of silence, and Kay showed no sign of breaking it.

“Make the appointment. Tell her everything and worry about me later, got it?”

“And that’s an order?”

“Just make the fucking appointment,” Rory gritted his teeth. “I’m not playing games tonight.”

Spoken in as harsh a tone as Kay had ever heard from Rory. An ultimatum disguised as suggestion.

“I’ll call tomorrow… I swear,” Kay whispered, voice catching in his throat. “Thank you. I — I’m sorry it’s taking so long.”

“You can apologise after you follow through. Right now, I don’t want to hear it.”

“Okay — yeah — alright,” Kay fumbled. Harshness like this from Rory was reassuring. “I will.”

Proof that he could do something other than treat Kay as though he were made of glass — threatening to shatter at any sign of conflict.

Proof that he thought Kay could recover.

Proof that he thought their relationship could go somewhere.

Proof of belief.

@whumptober2021 @whumptober-archive

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vanne-whump · 3 years

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whumptober day four

no. 4 - trust fall

“do you trust me?” | taken hostage | pushed

OCs: Kay Edwards, Rory Cooper (belongs to @whumpymirages)

Content: Questionable Relationship, Manipulation

Kay turned his key in the lock, slipping into Rory’s apartment as quietly as possible. With any luck, Rory wouldn’t be here — he would be at work. Taking on last-minute overtime. Delayed.

Just not here.

Kay had only moments to gather his own thoughts before there were footsteps behind him. Arms loosely around his waist — a new boundary they were slowly testing the waters for. Carefully.

“Hey,” Kay turned slightly to smile at Rory. “How was work?”

“Oh, yeah, I had a great time,” Rory grinned back. “Are we just hanging out in the doorway? Or maybe going inside?”

He gave Kay a gentle push forward — over the threshold. Kay stepped in, turning around to face Rory. Standing close. Maybe too close.

“I need you to trust me,” he blurted out. “Do you trust me?”

Rory’s expression darkened to one of deep concern — panicked concern — urgent.

“Why? What did you do, Kay?”

“Yet? Nothing — I swear, I didn’t do anything, I’m sorry,” he took a couple of steps backwards. One hand brushing his neck before he could process it — yank it away.

“I’m sorry,” Rory took Kay’s hand firmly, “You’re safe.”

Reassurance that Kay shouldn’t need.

“I need you to come to New York with me.”

It was better to get the favour out in the open — before any more miscommunication.

“New York?” Rory’s brow furrowed. “Why?”

“I can’t tell you — that’s why you have to trust me.”

“Maya ask you to do this?”

Kay nodded. “But I’m not in trouble — I just have to find out a few things. That’s all. I just want you there. For support.”

Rory was silent, so Kay kept talking.

“We — I didn’t leave on good terms, and now I need a favour from them and — and I figured, maybe, if I showed up with my boyfriend and showed them that — that I’m not as immature and that I’m with someone who has his life together…” Kay trailed off, just in time to catch a stunned glance from Rory.

“You want me to meet your family?”

“Yeah — is that weird? Is it too soon? If it’s too soon we can —”

“No, it’s not exactly too soon,” Rory interrupted him. “I’m just surprised that you want me to go with you.”

“I do want you there,” Kay assured him, “It might be nice to have someone there who’s on my side.”

This meant exposing Rory to the wreck of his family life, but what choice did Kay have? Maya wouldn’t stand for anything less than perfection. If Kay didn’t deliver, she wouldn’t take that lightly.

She wouldn’t tolerate it.

And Kay needed an excuse to go home. That’s all Rory was — an excuse.

“We — uh — there’s a hotel room. It’s paid for,” Kay spoke as if it might be… comforting for Rory to know that. “I — um — already called home.”

“You assumed I would come?”

Kay nodded.

“But you are, right?”

“I am,” Rory confirmed, “But you can’t just spring that kind of thing on me, you know?”

“I know, I just —”

“You figured I’d say yes.”

“Yeah. But we — it’ll be more like a vacation. You know? We could — I don’t know… Do tourist things? Maybe go to The Met? It’s only a twenty minute walk from —”

“It’ll be great, Kay,” Rory interrupted. “You’re rambling.”

One of the many remnant’s of Andrew’s work. Kay had to justify everything. Prove to Rory that he was behaving. All it did was make Rory wonder.

Wonder if Kay did want to be with him. If he was only staying through fear. Staying only to keep himself safe from a punishment Rory would never give.

“You don’t have to ramble, you don’t have to prove anything, alright?”

“I know,” Kay smiled faintly. “Thank you.”

@whumptober2021 @whumptober-archive

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vanne-whump · 3 years

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High Priestess

WIJ Day Six: Mistake @whumpmasinjuly

OCs: Jack Cantrell, Katz Walton-Cassidy

Content: Stalking, Captivity, Kidnapping

Jack stood over him, silent disapproval written across her features as she counted his breaths. She hesitated before making her decision to wake him. Waiting around all day for his convenience wasn’t an option. She circled him, a pathetic figure on the floor. Battered and bruised. He would recover.

Her foot collided with the small of his back, jerking him into a hazy state of awakened consciousness. For several seconds, Jack allowed him to get his bearings. She pocketed her hands, listening to his subtle complaints as his eyes opened and he struggled to sit upright.

By now, she was standing in front of him, once more looking down in disapproval.

“Do you plan to introduce yourself?” Jack asked.

“Katz…” He croaked out, head pounding too much for him to think past the instruction. “Huh?...”

“Good,” she crouched in front of him, briefly admiring the way he squinted at her through the dim light. “Are you much of a gambler, Katz?”

“I don’t understand,” he shook his head, “Why? Who are you?”

“Who I am doesn’t matter. It’s a fifty-fifty shot, you know? You fancy taking it?”

“Taking what? What are you talking about?” Katz furrowed his eyebrows and adjusted his posture. “Tell me what you’re talking about!”

“You need to agree first.”

“Alright, yeah, now please? Tell me what you’re talking about? Please?”

“Coin toss. Heads or tails?”

Katz didn’t understand. A coin toss? She spoke as if it somehow held significance to her. He blinked away a blur as he glanced around. He couldn’t see, well, anything. Four walls and her, the room lit only by a torch set to the side.

“Um, heads?” Katz tried, and she smiled at him with a small nod.

“Alright sweet, heads I let you walk out of the door behind me. No questions asked. Tails, you stay here until you’ve repaid every penny you owe me.”

“Owe you? I don’t owe anyone anything,” Katz protested weakly, flattening his palms on the floor and getting to his knees. “You’ve got me mixed up.”

“Katz Walton-Cassidy. Nineteen. Born in New Orleans, January fourth. Moved to Nevada in the Spring of last year. Am I getting close?”

Katz swallowed hard. “No.”

“You do janitorial work at a high school. Play tennis with that broken green racket. Bedsheets are blue. Had them since you were a kid and couldn’t let go. Is it a stegosaurus pattern on them?”

“Stop.” Katz had held his tongue as long as he could. “Stop screwing with me.”

“Had your appendix out when you were fourteen. Blood type is AB negative.”

“Please? Stop?”

“Fine. Heads, you win. Tails, I win. Are we agreed?”

“Yeah.”

Jack returned to her feet, eyes remaining on Katz as she chose between two quarters in her pocket. Her fingertips brushed against one. Heads. Both sides. She took the other from her pocket, all the while smiling softly at Katz.

For a split second, they locked eyes. Jack tossed the coin, watching it as it rose in the air and flipped almost gracefully. All too quickly, it was over. The coin landed on the back of her left hand and she covered it with her right.

“Are you still willing to bet your life on heads?” Jack’s tone was measured. Unwavering.

“Just put me out of my misery already,” Katz snapped. “Yeah, I still want heads.”

With one gentle movement, she took her hand away and crouched in front of Katz again, angling the coin so he was able to see. Able to come to his own conclusion.

The horror took only moments to dawn on Katz.

“I don’t understand,” he choked back tears at the utter confusion and despair. “Please explain? I’ll help you if I can, I promise.”

“Not good enough,” Jack responded lightly. “We’ll talk tonight. I’ll be back at ten.”

And Katz sank back onto his heels, unable to find the words to beg. She had her mind set on this and nothing he could say would change her mind.

“And you’re just… leaving me here?”

“Yes. I’ll be back at ten,” Jack stated, getting to her feet for the final time. “Don’t make me regret this.”

“I… I won’t?”

It was only partially a question from Katz as he watched her leave him without another word.

#self reblog

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vanne-whump · 3 years

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whumptober day three

no. 3 - sticks and stones may break my bones but…

taunting | insults | “who did this to you?”

OCs: Kay Edwards, London Friar

Content: Injury Description, Past Trauma, Police Mention, Death Mention

He dried himself roughly, the towel rubbing his skin red. He dressed quickly in clothes borrowed from London, simply glad to be out of his blood-soaked garments.

Soaked with his blood. It had to be. At least it didn’t seem to be recent. Kay’s skin was void of open wounds, for what seemed like the first time in months.

Bruises, though — they dotted his skin like spilled watercolours. Over his side. Splotched under his right eye. Deeply-coloured — unforgiving.

Even after a shower, he looked a state. The short sleeves of the t-shirt bringing the uneven lettering on his arm into full view. The writing, with all of its uneven edges and wonky letters.

Even with the harsh visibility, nothing would convince Kay to change back into his own clothes.

Kay was silent, heading down the stairs and sitting on London’s couch. Finally showered, hair dripping cold water onto the borrowed shirt.

He could hear London in the kitchen. Doing — something. Kay wasn’t sure what. And he daren’t be ungrateful and ask.

Minutes later, London reappeared in the doorway. After Kay had spent almost an hour in the shower, he hadn’t expected for London to do this for him.

Even if it was just grilled cheese.

“Thank you — I needed that,” Kay smiled faintly, “A lot. I — uh — wasn’t sure where to put these,” he held up the dirty clothes, wrapped in the bath towel.

“The clothes? I don’t think you can salvage them.”

“Probably not…”

“You can put those in the trash, and the towel can go into the washer under the stairs.”

Kay nodded quickly, getting to his feet and slipping past London into the kitchen. He returned, moments later, empty handed and with his arms crossed loosely over his stomach

“You probably need something to eat — and to talk. Otherwise I’m not going to be able to be much help,” London said, with a soft bluntness, as he handed Kay the plate of grilled cheese.

“Talk? I — I’ve told you everything I know,” Kay evaded the question tactlessly.

“You said you were engaged — had a fiancée. What was her name?” London started, clinging to the one thing he already knew about Kay. It was a start.

“He — uh — he was called Halden.” Kay responded with his mouth full. “… Sorry.”

“So, Halden? Tell me about him?”

“I mean, he was great. We’d been dating a while and things were going well — last time I saw him was... uh... right before...” Kay trailed off vaguely.

“Where were you?”

“We were at a concert — Anarbor I think?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard of them,” London nodded. Common ground. This is what they needed.

“We had plans to go away together. We had a deposit on a place in Salem,” Kay offered London a faint smile. “It would’ve been nice.”

“You were running away with him?” London’s brow furrowed. “Was that a good idea?”

“Obviously not!” Kay snapped. “Because something went wrong,” he smiled bitterly and shook his head. “Because I’m here, not —.”

He dragged his left hand through still-wet, still-tangled hair and let it fall limply at his side.

“Are we done? I — I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be. Sore topic, I get it,” London smiled faintly. And then he spotted the burns pressed unevenly into Kay’s arm. His understanding was stopped in its tracks.

And he wanted to continue the conversation — pretend he hadn’t seen the block letters. Pretend he wasn’t concerned. Pretending wasn’t something London did well.

“Kay? What the hell aren’t you telling me?” He snapped out his words before he had even a chance of restraint. “Who did that to you?”

“What? I — oh...” Kay trailed off once more. “It doesn’t matter. I — I’m not hiding anything. He — he let me go.”

“He? Who?”

“It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. I — I’m not dragging you into this too! It’s over. I’m sure it’s over.”

“Irrelevant,” London responded, reaching forward and picking up his cell from the table. “You need to start talking. Right now.”

“Halden — he got involved in some sketchy deals. But that’s it. I swear, I never did anything.”

“The guy that did this, who is he?”

“I don’t know! He — he only ever gave his first name!”

“What is it?”

“You have to promise that you’re not going to do anything.”

“What am I going to do with a first name?”

“Then why do you want it?”

London hissed out a sharp breath. “Just give me a name, Kay,” he sighed, “What’s his name?”

“Isaac.”

“Thank you. He did that?”

Kay nodded.

“Why?”

“Fun.”

“Fun?”

“He was just... like that,” Kay responded. “I don’t know why. He just — had something to prove, I guess.”

“I’m sorry.”

Kay nodded at the apology, though struggled to work out why. What was London apologising for?

“It wasn’t your fault,” Kay fumbled. “I think... I just — He wanted to get at Halden and I was an easy target. But he never made sense.”

“How do you mean?”

“Sometimes he wanted me to tell him where Halden was, and sometimes he wanted money. Sometimes he said that it was nothing to do with Halden. That it was my fault, or to do with my family. Or — I don’t know. It was different every time we talked.”

“Do you know anything else about him? Anything at all?”

Kay shook his head.

“Kay, please don’t lie to me.”

“He was a cop — but that’s it! That’s all I know.”

“You’re sure?”

Kay gritted his teeth and nodded. No more questions, please. He dared to hope that London was done asking. Done prying and pulling apart all of Kay’s secrets.

His hands shook as he put the empty plate down on the coffee table. Tears bit at his eyes as he waited for London’s next barrage of questions. They didn’t come. Just one singular question Kay didn’t have a coherent answer for.

“Why didn’t you go to the poli—”

London cut himself off as he answered his own question. Of course Kay didn’t want that.

“You still deserve justice.”

“I don’t want it. I just — maybe a couple of weeks to track down Halden, you know? Get on with my life. I don’t want to let Isaac win.”

“Win?”

“If — if I don’t — I — If he knows, he wins.”

“I don’t know what you’re saying.”

Kay just shook his head.

“No, Kay, I want to understand. What do you mean? Sit down and explain what you’re thinking.”

Kay slowly sat down on the couch, silent as London sat beside him. Silent until London prompted him again.

“So? Tell me, why will he win?”

“He’ll know he got to me. He — he’ll know he hurt me and — and that means — it — it means he got what he wanted,” Kay’s voice caught in his throat. “I — he can’t win like that. I — He took months from me and — and I can’t let him win too.”

“Okay, thank you for telling me. I mean that, thank you. Do you want to stay here tonight? I only have the couch but —”

“You’re sure?” Kay fumbled, interrupting London. “If you’re sure — I — I’d be really grateful,” he wiped tears from his cheeks. “If you’re absolutely sure.”

“I am. I’m completely sure. It’s the least I can do.”

“Thank you — for this, and the shower, and food — I don’t know what I would have done if — if you hadn’t...”

“Don’t worry about it — really. I’ve got the house to myself for a while. Vilde is away at the convention, and Ferris is tied up with classes for several weeks.”

“Vilde? Your girlfriend, I met her at the airport,” Kay nodded. “And Ferris? He’s your roommate?”

“Boyfriend. But he’s studying in North Carolina at the moment so we don’t see each other all that often.”

“You’re... with both of them?”

“Yeah, they know about each other. Vilde has a fiancé in Norway and he knows about me. It’s — It’s not underhanded.”

“No — I didn’t mean that, I just — didn’t know,” Kay shook his head. “That sounds kind of nice...”

“It is. You know, no pressure for them to fill each other’s every need. It’s unrealistic most of the time.”

“Most of the time,” Kay agreed softly.

London could tell their conversation had hit a dead end — Kay was beginning to look like he was struggling to stay awake. Eyelids flickering closed, suppressing yawns and he just — just looked exhausted.

“Do you want to get some sleep? It might make you feel a bit better,” London offered. “You look exhausted.”

“Yeah, sleeping sounds... Nice.”

London gathered up their plates, slipping through into the kitchen. Leaving Kay alone. He took his time washing up, doing his best to process the information thrown at him. It felt impossible to make sense of all this. A lot of what Kay said made very little sense — all of his inconsistencies were difficult to ignore.

When London returned to the living room, Kay was already asleep. It was unsurprising. London grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch and laid it over Kay. His attention was caught by track marks scattered up the kid’s arms.

It wasn’t something that would warrant waking Kay. Instead of making a big deal out of it, he just gave him the blanket and headed upstairs with his laptop. He left a very brief note on the coffee table, reading: 'Didn't want to wake you, I’m just upstairs. Let me know if you need anything.’

Once upstairs, London pushed aside a pile of textbooks and loose papers, before slumping down in the chair. He woke his computer, pulling up a blank internet browser. His fingers hovered over the keyboard until he typed in his first search term: ‘Kay Missing Persons’. It brought up pages and pages of information — information London didn’t have the patience to sift through.

London tried various combinations of words, an article finally came up in his search results. One that looked relevant, at least. It fit the timing, at least. The attached image sealed the deal. London stared at it, just to be sure. But it was Kay.

He looked younger — brighter — in the photo, but it was him. He was with someone else, too. The image was captioned with Halden’s name also.

London skimmed through the article, throat tightening as he read more — more about where Kay disappeared from, what people had seen, how he’d left with someone. A public video — as close to a hostage tape as you could get.

Morbid curiosity — London pressed play. It was only a clip, not even a minute long. But he couldn’t make it to the end. He closed the video and scrolled past, unnerved by the proof of Kay’s story.

When — before, there was doubt. Doubt that anything had happened. That Kay was telling the entire truth — or even that Kay remembered it correctly. But the video proved everything. The beginning of the next paragraph only worsened the deal.

“The body found was identified via dental records and DNA. The funeral will be a private event for close family only. The details have remained private.”

London read the last paragraph over and over. It didn't make sense. Whoever Kay had gotten tangled up with, they had pull. They were more dangerous than Kay had made them out to be. Or more dangerous than Kay realised.

Did Kay know about this? That, legally, he had died months prior? London wasn't about to be the one to break the news to him.

With Kay’s full name — Aeon Kaine Edwards — London pulled up a new search window. It took only moments to find a private Instagram account and public — very public — Facebook account. Seemingly endless photos of Kay and his fiancé. At events; promotions for a pharmaceutical company. And he looked happy.

Anything recent were posts from friends and family. Wishing him well. Rest in peace. Condolences to his family. The posts made for a chilling read.

He’d gotten sucked up into this. Too sucked up. All he’d wanted to do was verify that Kay was who he said he was. That seemed fair, right? That in itself hadn't been a problem, but one glance at the time told London that he was bordering on obsessive territory. He’d been trawling through articles and social media for hours.

He hadn't heard anything from Kay, so he guessed that he was still asleep. It wasn't like he didn't need it. London decided that he better get some sleep too. Tomorrow would be… difficult. How was he supposed to tell Kay any of this?

Anyone who had been in his life before would have moved on.

@whumptober2021 @whumptober-archive

#self reblog

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vanne-whump · 3 years

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That scenario when a character is badly hurt or sick, either way they're extremely out of it and whoever is taking care of them isn't someone they would expect to take care of them, and when they blearily look up at their caretaker they mumble something along the lines of "am I dying? You're never this nice to me"

#prompt archive

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vanne-whump · 3 years

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Self-Sacrifice Starters

tag me if you use any of these!! i wanna see what people write

"No, don't take them; they wouldn't be much fun. You want me."

"Don't you look at them. You look at me."

"I'm going. I'm sorry. I can't let you be hurt again."

"I don't care if they hate me as long as they're safe."

"What happens to me doesn't matter as long as they're safe."

"Do what you want to me; I'll never tell you about them."

"I deserve this; they don't."

"Where's X? ...Oh. You came in their place?"

"Take you? Convince me."

#prompt archive

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vanne-whump · 3 years

Text

Co-Captive Starters

tag me if you use these!! i wanna see what people come up with :3

“Look, A! I brought you a friend.”

“You’ve got to stop fighting them, B.”

“Did they–they did this to you? Is that what they’ll do to me?”

“Learn from A how to behave before I beat it into you.”

“Here’s the knife, A. Use it on B or I will.”

“I can use this on you or them. Which will it be?”

“Wait! It’s my fault B misbehaved. Punish me.”

“B doesn’t know any better, please!”

“It’s better to just do what they want, B.”

“There’s no way out, B. I’ve tried.”

#prompt archive

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