That indescribable feeling you get when you witness a person in a situation so vulnerable and helpless? The feeling you get when grief and angst fills the space around someone as they watch, entirely helpless to stop what happens next? When you see someone normally unflinching, strong, indestructible in a position where they become weak, the complete opposite of who they were before? That's what I feel. (Blog is both for whump stuff and air/asph related stuff, the blog is not exclusively NSFW but minors, please tread with caution! Also I myself am actually under 18 but I just want this blog to be a collection of things I want to save or set aside for the most part.) BLOCK DONT REPORT 🙏🙏🙏
please please please please reblog if you’re a writer and have at some point felt like your writing is getting worse. I need to know if I’m the only one who’s struggling with these thoughts
(CW: death, blood loss, this one is just... pretty Sad, so be warned y'all)
“Villain,” Hero gasps through the phone. “I need your help.”
Villain frowns, rubbing their eyes and looking out the window. It’s not even dawn yet. And Hero’s never used the number they’d given them on a whim before.
Villain sits up in their bed, something cold pooling in the pit of their stomach. “What’s wrong?”
“I, I made a mistake. I thought I could do this on my own but there are so many…” Hero pauses as muffled noises fill the line. When they speak again, louder over screams and threats, Villain can almost see the fear lacing the words. “There are too many enemies, Villain. Can you... I need your help, can you please… I just, can’t– I, I can’t–”
“Where are you?” Villain cuts in, already slipping out of bed and into their suit. “Give me the address and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Hero says it, and without another word, Villain hangs up and rushes out of their house and into their car.
They’ve never heard Hero like that before. Vulnerable. Scared.
Not when they’d been a second away from losing the city to Villain, not when they’d been hurt, not when everything seemed impossible. Villain can’t stop playing it over and over in their head.
If anyone’s touched their Hero–
Villain steps on the gas pedal and races faster through the streets, dodging cars and pedestrians as they cross red light after red light.
They don’t take long to get there. Not even half an hour to a place they would usually take an entire one.
But in the end, it doesn’t matter.
Because when Villain gets there, barely parking before jerking the door open and sprinting out, there are no more fighting sounds. No roaring enemies. There’s only silence, deafening in its stillness.
Villain’s rushed footsteps stop as they spin in the middle of what used to be a warehouse, looking around the rubble as their heart fills the soundless void, hammering so loud against their chest that they barely hear it at first.
The sound of too fast, too shallow breathing. The almost silent whimpers that accompany it.
And then they see it – blood on the floor, nearly black under the fading stars, marking a trail to where Hero’s body lies limp behind a fallen pillar.
“No,” they whisper, frozen in horror at the sight of Hero’s blood-soaked uniform, their chest rising and falling in painfully erratic movements. “No.”
Hero moans, and Villain snaps out of their shocked daze, rushing to kneel by their side.
“Wake up,” they say through gritted teeth, cupping Hero’s cheeks and turning their pale face upwards. “Hero, wake up. I’m here, I came, now wake up.”
There’s too much blood. Everywhere. On Hero’s ragged uniform, feeding a crimson puddle under Villain’s knees, staining their hands.
“Hero, open your eyes!” Villain yells, voice cracking when despair filters in. “Look at me. Come on, I came as fast as I could, you cannot do this–”
“I knew it,” Hero coughs, voice small and hoarse. Their eyes flutter open a moment later. Villain nearly starts crying when their nemesis smirks at them. “Knew you’d come. When I called. I knew it.”
“Of course I’d come,” Villain huffs. As gently as they can, Villain lifts Hero’s head and places it on their lap before pulling out their phone and dialing the ambulance number, barely acknowledging how much their hands shake as they do.
“I thought I…” Hero mutters, throat bobbing when they swallow a moan, half-lidded eyes fighting to remain open. “Thought I could do it. Thought I could... win. I, I tried. Really… really did. B-but there were… so many of them.”
“It’s okay. It’s okay, I know you did. But now you have to try again, alright? You have to try and stay awake for me.”
Villain calls for help, all the while staring at Hero’s glazed eyes, their parted lips and colorless cheeks haunting in the dim light of the moon. Hero simply blinks at them, slowly, watching their lips move as Villain talks on the phone.
“Help is on the way,” they say as soon as they hang up, running trembling fingers through Hero’s blood-matted hair. “You just have to stay with me a little longer, okay?”
Hero nods, the movement reluctant and frail, but there. Villain tries to tell themself it’s a good sign, even when a moment later Hero whimpers and winces, their fingers curling over the gaping wound crossing their stomach.
Villain places theirs on top of Hero’s, and presses down. Hard. Hero wails.
“Sorry,” Villain whispers.
Hero leans their head back on Villain’s lap, neck bared as they stare up at their nemesis.
“Y-you’re scared,” they breathe.
“No, I’m not,” Villain replies with a frown, keeping their eyes firmly focused on the ever-growing puddle of blood around them both.
“It’s okay,” Hero says, free hand feebly finding its way to rest on top of Villain’s, their touch so terribly cold. “Don’t be scared.”
“Hero–”
“I’m not.”
A sob tears through Villain’s throat at that, both disbelieving and terrified.
“Stop that,” they croak, turning their teary eyes to Hero’s calm ones. They look almost peaceful, looking at Villain like that. “I know what you’re doing but help is on the way. You just have to hold on for a little longer. So stop trying to say goodbye.”
“’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to–”
“You came," they whisper breathlessly, voice wavering and cracking as they go on. "I, I called and you… came. Did w-what I asked, b-but I… can’t do w-what you're asking. I’m… sorry”
For a moment, Villain can only stare at Hero, tasting salt through parted lips as tears they hadn’t even realized were falling drip down their cheeks.
“Hero don’t you dare give up,” they snarl.
“I’m just so… tired.” Hero says as their eyes close, and for an instant Villain looks down at their chest, scared of what they’ll see when they do. But Hero’s chest rises, slowly, painfully, but rises, and then falls. Their eyes open back up a moment later. “Just wanna sleep.”
“No, Hero do not dare to close your eyes again.”
But they do.
Villain shakes them as gently as they can, and Hero dazedly blinks at them yet again.
“Keep your eyes on me,” Villain commands, pressing harder on their wound until a small sob slips out of Hero's lips. “Just a little longer, Hero. Please, just stay with me a little longer.”
“Sorry, Villain,” Hero murmurs, a too shallow breath making them whimper, mouth opening just long enough for Villain to see red shining around their teeth. “Can’t.”
“No, Hero, look at me!”
Instead, Hero’s eyes fall shut. Villain shakes them again, looking up when the distant sound of ambulance sirens reaches their ears.
“They’re here! Hero, help is here, just open your eyes one more time for me, alright? Just, just one more time, help is here.”
But when Villain looks back at Hero, expecting a hazy gaze and painful too-shallow breaths, all they find are closed eyelids and an unmoving chest.
“NO!” Villain screams, hugging Hero against their chest, hands slippery with blood as they clutch their enemy’s uniform and shake them as hard as they can. “Wake up! Hero, wake up, look at me! Come on Hero, don't die on me, please!”
Hero’s head lolls against their shoulder, almost as an answer, limp as Villain shakes them again and again.
Villain doesn’t let go. Not when Hero's skin starts cooling down in their embrace, not when the ambulance sirens become colorful lights, not when their throat feels raw as they scream into their nemesis’s bloodied hair.
But no matter how much they wish and scream and cry, Hero’s chest doesn’t rise again, and their eyes remain closed.
Alright I haven't been on here for a while but I'm a man on a mission. A week ago my sibling published their first poetry anthology! They've been working on the collection for years through a lot of different parts of their life and it covers a lot of their experiences as someone raised as a woman with a lot of neurodivergence and disability. And they've begun trying to do marketing work and so far it's going...
Very poorly
They've only gotten traction on tiktok... because a group of people started sharing the video around making fun of their voice (they have a speech impediment) and are mostly just getting harassed and made fun of for their disability. And since I'm not allowed to hunt people for sport I'm taking their book to the spite and gay people website in hopes of helping them find an audience
In their words
Little Girl is a book of poetry encompassing my personal journey from childhood to adulthood. The works speak on larger social issues, as well as a troubled home life, and the effects of being an adult diagnosed with neurodivergence. Melancholy and hopeful. Truthful, but never cynical.
The book itself has several years worth of work and has a cheerful rhythm reminiscent of Shel Silverstein to contrast the more serious topics. Such as child abuse, sexism, and disability. Its a long-term labor of love, and I hope it'll find the right folks on here
Only ten
Clean hair, nice clothes,
‘What will your father think of those?’
From the tender age of ten.
Taught how to dress for men.
The line between pretty and a whore.
‘Oh you cannot go out that door’
While the boys grew out of their clothes.
Girls turned into short skirt shows.
Amazon.com: Little Girl: 9798861422376: Jubilee, Bay: Books
Here's my next whump obsession: Michael J Fox in The Hard Way (1991)! This underrated movie holds one of the absolute best whump scenes ever - like, the movie is cheesy AF, but that kinda makes it better ☺️
Two characters collapsing onto the mattress - uncaring of their attire/the blankets that are still tucked in.
The caretaker laying on a backpack as a pillow to get some sleep, while the whumpee is passed out across the mattress.
The whumpee having no choice but to lay on the floor because the mattress is too soft/lumpy for their damaged back.
Tearing open plastic bags to protect the mattress from field surgery.
Leaving a tip for the housekeeping service as an apology for the mess.
The caretaker hesitantly leaving for food/other necessities.
The whole team, after rescuing the whumpee, lay on every inch of the double mattress as the whumpee doesn’t want to be alone, and equally the team wants to make sure that the whumpee is okay/will pull through.
The caretaker waking up and wondering why the blanket feels damp - only to discover the whumpees stitches have been pulled/their bandage has been bled through/the whumpee failed to mention a severe injury.
The whumpee waking everyone up from a nightmare and apologising profusely. Bonus points if this character has always done everything in their power to hide these episodes.
The whumpee anxious about sleeping around other people because of their frequent nightmares.
Huddling for warmth because the heater is broken.
The AC is broken, and the whumpee is struggling through a fever - even the open window doesn’t help.
Using the small soaps the hotel offers to clean up, and hissing through the sting of scented soaps on their wounds.
The whumpee asking the caretaker to stay, so they climb in next to them.
The recently rescued whumpee having to be convinced they are safe; the caretaker does multiple sweeps of the room. Eventually they compromise by having the whumpee tucked into the caretakers side, and sleeping with the lights on.
(CW: death, blood loss, this one is just... pretty Sad, so be warned y'all)
“Villain,” Hero gasps through the phone. “I need your help.”
Villain frowns, rubbing their eyes and looking out the window. It’s not even dawn yet. And Hero’s never used the number they’d given them on a whim before.
Villain sits up in their bed, something cold pooling in the pit of their stomach. “What’s wrong?”
“I, I made a mistake. I thought I could do this on my own but there are so many…” Hero pauses as muffled noises fill the line. When they speak again, louder over screams and threats, Villain can almost see the fear lacing the words. “There are too many enemies, Villain. Can you... I need your help, can you please… I just, can’t– I, I can’t–”
“Where are you?” Villain cuts in, already slipping out of bed and into their suit. “Give me the address and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Hero says it, and without another word, Villain hangs up and rushes out of their house and into their car.
They’ve never heard Hero like that before. Vulnerable. Scared.
Not when they’d been a second away from losing the city to Villain, not when they’d been hurt, not when everything seemed impossible. Villain can’t stop playing it over and over in their head.
If anyone’s touched their Hero–
Villain steps on the gas pedal and races faster through the streets, dodging cars and pedestrians as they cross red light after red light.
They don’t take long to get there. Not even half an hour to a place they would usually take an entire one.
But in the end, it doesn’t matter.
Because when Villain gets there, barely parking before jerking the door open and sprinting out, there are no more fighting sounds. No roaring enemies. There’s only silence, deafening in its stillness.
Villain’s rushed footsteps stop as they spin in the middle of what used to be a warehouse, looking around the rubble as their heart fills the soundless void, hammering so loud against their chest that they barely hear it at first.
The sound of too fast, too shallow breathing. The almost silent whimpers that accompany it.
And then they see it – blood on the floor, nearly black under the fading stars, marking a trail to where Hero’s body lies limp behind a fallen pillar.
“No,” they whisper, frozen in horror at the sight of Hero’s blood-soaked uniform, their chest rising and falling in painfully erratic movements. “No.”
Hero moans, and Villain snaps out of their shocked daze, rushing to kneel by their side.
“Wake up,” they say through gritted teeth, cupping Hero’s cheeks and turning their pale face upwards. “Hero, wake up. I’m here, I came, now wake up.”
There’s too much blood. Everywhere. On Hero’s ragged uniform, feeding a crimson puddle under Villain’s knees, staining their hands.
“Hero, open your eyes!” Villain yells, voice cracking when despair filters in. “Look at me. Come on, I came as fast as I could, you cannot do this–”
“I knew it,” Hero coughs, voice small and hoarse. Their eyes flutter open a moment later. Villain nearly starts crying when their nemesis smirks at them. “Knew you’d come. When I called. I knew it.”
“Of course I’d come,” Villain huffs. As gently as they can, Villain lifts Hero’s head and places it on their lap before pulling out their phone and dialing the ambulance number, barely acknowledging how much their hands shake as they do.
“I thought I…” Hero mutters, throat bobbing when they swallow a moan, half-lidded eyes fighting to remain open. “Thought I could do it. Thought I could... win. I, I tried. Really… really did. B-but there were… so many of them.”
“It’s okay. It’s okay, I know you did. But now you have to try again, alright? You have to try and stay awake for me.”
Villain calls for help, all the while staring at Hero’s glazed eyes, their parted lips and colorless cheeks haunting in the dim light of the moon. Hero simply blinks at them, slowly, watching their lips move as Villain talks on the phone.
“Help is on the way,” they say as soon as they hang up, running trembling fingers through Hero’s blood-matted hair. “You just have to stay with me a little longer, okay?”
Hero nods, the movement reluctant and frail, but there. Villain tries to tell themself it’s a good sign, even when a moment later Hero whimpers and winces, their fingers curling over the gaping wound crossing their stomach.
Villain places theirs on top of Hero’s, and presses down. Hard. Hero wails.
“Sorry,” Villain whispers.
Hero leans their head back on Villain’s lap, neck bared as they stare up at their nemesis.
“Y-you’re scared,” they breathe.
“No, I’m not,” Villain replies with a frown, keeping their eyes firmly focused on the ever-growing puddle of blood around them both.
“It’s okay,” Hero says, free hand feebly finding its way to rest on top of Villain’s, their touch so terribly cold. “Don’t be scared.”
“Hero–”
“I’m not.”
A sob tears through Villain’s throat at that, both disbelieving and terrified.
“Stop that,” they croak, turning their teary eyes to Hero’s calm ones. They look almost peaceful, looking at Villain like that. “I know what you’re doing but help is on the way. You just have to hold on for a little longer. So stop trying to say goodbye.”
“’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to–”
“You came," they whisper breathlessly, voice wavering and cracking as they go on. "I, I called and you… came. Did w-what I asked, b-but I… can’t do w-what you're asking. I’m… sorry”
For a moment, Villain can only stare at Hero, tasting salt through parted lips as tears they hadn’t even realized were falling drip down their cheeks.
“Hero don’t you dare give up,” they snarl.
“I’m just so… tired.” Hero says as their eyes close, and for an instant Villain looks down at their chest, scared of what they’ll see when they do. But Hero’s chest rises, slowly, painfully, but rises, and then falls. Their eyes open back up a moment later. “Just wanna sleep.”
“No, Hero do not dare to close your eyes again.”
But they do.
Villain shakes them as gently as they can, and Hero dazedly blinks at them yet again.
“Keep your eyes on me,” Villain commands, pressing harder on their wound until a small sob slips out of Hero's lips. “Just a little longer, Hero. Please, just stay with me a little longer.”
“Sorry, Villain,” Hero murmurs, a too shallow breath making them whimper, mouth opening just long enough for Villain to see red shining around their teeth. “Can’t.”
“No, Hero, look at me!”
Instead, Hero’s eyes fall shut. Villain shakes them again, looking up when the distant sound of ambulance sirens reaches their ears.
“They’re here! Hero, help is here, just open your eyes one more time for me, alright? Just, just one more time, help is here.”
But when Villain looks back at Hero, expecting a hazy gaze and painful too-shallow breaths, all they find are closed eyelids and an unmoving chest.
“NO!” Villain screams, hugging Hero against their chest, hands slippery with blood as they clutch their enemy’s uniform and shake them as hard as they can. “Wake up! Hero, wake up, look at me! Come on Hero, don't die on me, please!”
Hero’s head lolls against their shoulder, almost as an answer, limp as Villain shakes them again and again.
Villain doesn’t let go. Not when Hero's skin starts cooling down in their embrace, not when the ambulance sirens become colorful lights, not when their throat feels raw as they scream into their nemesis’s bloodied hair.
But no matter how much they wish and scream and cry, Hero’s chest doesn’t rise again, and their eyes remain closed.
Imagine putting your whumpee in an ordinarily fatal situation that they're immune to... alongside a loved one who isn't.
A whumpee who can breathe underwater, trapped in a tank with someone who can't. A whumpee invulnerable to cold, locked in a freezer with someone who's not. You get my gist. Have them watch their loved one succumb, while the danger doesn't even touch them.
any prompts/ideas on how scars can be revealed but with a defiant whumpee who is now with caretaker but isn’t wanting to share anything that was done to them but caretaker *has* to know so that they can help?? sorry if that’s too specific haha just looking for scar reveal ideas really :)
I'm always a fan of accidental reveals :3 Like
A shirt hitched up when they're taking a nap.
Caretaker walking in on them changing.
A careless motion hitching up a shirt or a sleeve and quickly pulling it down again.
But if Whumpee always refuses and pushes Caretaker away, but Caretaker has to know... Well, why do they have to know? Because if it's dire :3 then it can be done with some drama.
A wound that reopens and Whumpee desperately tries to cover the stain in their shirt.
Or a wound that reopens and Whumpee doesn't notice but Caretaker sure does.
Caretaker lightly taking their arm, wrist, waist, and Whumpee violently flinching away in pain.
Bones that haven't set right, wounds that haven't healed right and Whumpee tries to ignore it all, but one day it will catch up to them.
A lightheaded feeling that makes Whumpee sway and stumble, the 'I'm not feeling so good, no, back off, it'll be fine in a minute'.
Spoiler: it won't be fine in a minute.
That in various gradations, leading ultimately to "the collapse".
And Caretaker finally sees all the scars.
But those are more injury reveal tropes. For actual scar reveals:
Caretaker could take matters into their own hands and force Whumpee to come clean.
Or they're sick of all the 'it's fine really' so the next time Whumpee bites away pain or stumbles, they swoop in and pull up their shirt.
"When were you planning on telling me this?!"
"Will you sit still, I have to treat this before you pass out of blood loss or the wound infects and... oh."
Also fun: Return of the Whumper who sneers in glee at all that's transpired and Caretaker's cluelessness.
"You haven't told them? You really should. Tell them."
Forcing them to take off their shirt and reveal all the scars.
Tieing Whumpee up, cutting their shirt away and Caretaker gasps at the scars. Combined with the "Ohh, they didn't know? Well, now they do."
Whumpee collapsing and Caretaker doesn't know what to do so they take them to hospital and the doctor removes their shirt and.... yeah :)
A Whumpee thinking they're alone, it's super hot so they finally allow themself to take off their baggy hoody. And yeah, they weren't alone.
They're happy to finally wear their favourite shirt again, it gives them a sense of calm, of finally being home again. What they didn't know was that the neck of the shirt plunges just a bit too deep, or their sleeves are just a bit too short.
“average person eats 3 spiders a year” factoid actualy just statistical error. average person eats 0 spiders per year. Spiders Georg, who lives in cave & eats over 10,000 each day, is an outlier adn should not have been counted
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