you call this a hobby?

what the hell man bonbon - 22 - writer - they/them

[paingoes]

Rubies - Encounter

the thing i just said i would write >:)

set later into rubies

(Content: living weapon whumpee, whumpee-turned-caretaker?, bad caretaker, multiple whumpees, verbal abuse, conditioning, blood, past trauma, comfort)

LEVON: I wish you’d told me you were tagging along! I would have given you a heads-up. DELTA: thats okay DELTA: it doesnt really bother me DELTA: its nothing i havent seen before LEVON: Yes I’m sure. LEVON: Nevertheless I thought you would appreciate the warning. DELTA: eh

LEVON: I notice this is becoming a bit of a pet project of yours. LEVON: I would have passed more information along to you if I’d known you were interested. In fact I considered doing so in the beginning. LEVON: I was worried you would feel tokenized by it. LEVON: Also to be perfectly honest with you I would prefer that you stay out of imperial territory. DELTA: i think i actually would have felt a bit tokenized by it in the beginning tbh that was probably a good call DELTA: its different if im doing it on my own time DELTA: im sorry i hope you dont think im ignoring your orders by coming here LEVON: They weren’t formal orders. DELTA: i know but still i dont want to come off as disrespectful for it DELTA: i do value your advice i dont mean to blow you off LEVON: Delta, it’s fine. DELTA: okay cool LEVON: It’s going well, then? DELTA: yeah there was only one of them and no one was expecting her to be here clearly DELTA: im not with her right now though im with kitty we are in the server room LEVON: Okay. I’m getting word that there are a few patrollers already orbiting close by, so I’d suggest you wrap it up quick. DELTA: yeah we are finishing up now LEVON: Be careful. DELTA: yessir LEVON: Goodbye. DELTA: bye captain

Kitty looped up another loose cable, one more fire hazard. Delta slipped the phone back into the pocket of his pants. His other hand extended to her to help her up to her feet.

From below, another loud crash.

“Sounds like it’s working.” Kitty’s eyes lit up.

They walk down the bloodstained steps. Most of the place had already been cleared out by the time they arrived. The two of them are almost never at any active sight. Third wave, maybe second wave, if anything. Kitty was IT. Delta did a little bit of everything now, but was too valuable as a psychic to ever endanger with capture.

He was only the second psychic to enter the manor. The first was downstairs, doing everything she could to destroy what was around her. As they descended back to the first floor, they saw the mess she had made of things.

“Get away,” she said, “Get away. Get away.”

The silver collar glistened around her neck. The same light shone just by her eyes, reflected from the tears that were forming there.

Infantry was the one to deal with her — they were being surprisingly gentle about it.

“Easy. Easy, I know you’re scared,” a sniper of all people promised her, both hands raised in a placating surrender. “Let’s all slow down. We won’t hurt you.”

“No!” she shouted back. She was crying in earnest now. 

“We’re going to get you help, okay? But we need to go now.”

“I don’t want to go! I can’t!” 

In that exact instant, Delta noticed that her collar was broken in places. It was malfunctioning. Her powers were slipping through the cracks.

“Get away from me!” Her voice was shrill, pitched with panic. “Stay back or I’ll - I’ll-“

As she said it, a little halo of crystals was forming in a blaze right by her head. It was a crown of glass. In the space above her, the shards appeared out of thin air.

Kitty stepped forwardly slightly. It did something to him then, to hear her slip back into sweetness. The words had the same gentle tone that she’d used for him when they’d first dredged him up out of the water. When he was scared.

“It’s okay,” she promised. “You’re safe. No one is going to hurt you. We want to help, okay? Just wanna help.”

“Leave me alone!” the girl yelled back. In the same instant, her right hand cut an arc through the air.

The glass flew like shrapnel. They were small pieces, but hard and razor sharp. She managed to pierce quite a few of them. But what Delta saw most precisely was the shard that flew only inches from Kitty’s face. Just barely missing her.

It was mostly adrenaline that moved him then;  his heart was beating too quickly for him to make sense of it. But in the next second, he’d zeroed in on the psychic.

The pulse knocked her back into the wall. It didn’t hurt — he knew exactly how to make it hurt and he didn’t — but it had shocked her. He caught her wrist, pinning it there. The hands were conduits. Though it was still possible to use their powers without moving an inch, the immobility gave the impression of helplessness. That’d be enough for now.

“Stop.”

She went still, but there was tension rigged in every inch of her body.

“You do not use your powers without permission.” His voice was low, more venomous than he meant it to be. “That is the first thing they teach you and there is no excuse for having forgotten it.”

She shrank away from that. They were sensitive to scolding — every single one of them.

“Sorry,” she whispered. She flexed her fingers where they were held. Little shards of glass were still raining softly from the ceiling.

“Listen to me. We are leaving. It doesn’t matter if you want to or not. You’re not going to fight them. And you’re going to do as they ask. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You do? You’re going to behave yourself? Because you can just as easily leave here in chains if you don’t.”

“Yes, sir,” she swallowed. She refused to look at him.

It was an acceptable surrender. He released her wrist, but not before wrenching it in the same direction that the others were waiting. He pointed.

“Go.”

She went obediently. One of the medics hovered their hands by her shoulder, not quite touching, but guiding her over to the exit.

There were little indentations in her skin where his claws had been.

He’d cowed her. Delta sat there for a second, alight in the afterglow of cruelty. It hadn’t felt good, but alarmingly enough, it had felt natural. Maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised. He’d learned from the best, after all. 

The thought made him sick.

Kitty was staring at him. A couple of them were. He knew before he even turned around. 

Sorry you had to see that, he almost said. But that seemed a bit inadequate, all things considered. He said nothing instead. Already, he felt a blush rising to his cheeks.

He moved to her, side-stepping carefully around the littered glass. Kitty still looped her arm in through his own. She didn’t hate him for it, which would have been about the worst thing he could imagine. 

“That was kinda fucked up,” she whispered to him as soon as they’d climbed onto the carrier.

“Fucked up of me?” he asked.

“Yeah, a little fucked up of you!”

Delta nodded. He’d assumed that was what she meant.

“She’ll be fine,” he exhaled. “Believe me, she’s more than used to it.”

“They really talked to you like that?” Kitty frowned.

Ungrateful. Disrespectful. Brat. Don’t you ever-

Delta bit his lip, nodding. Used to it. He traced the skin around his collar with the tips of his fingers.

“I don’t care if she hates me,” he decided. “As long as she’s out. Of all the things she has to get over, she’ll barely remember this one.”

Something about that didn’t sit right, though. 

~

Worse than cruelty was unpredictability. He worried about playing the same games that Simon had — pulling rank one second and coddling the next. It was a mean thing to do. He thought it’d be better if he just never saw her again. The ones looking out for her now could teach her in their own time. He wouldn’t further disrupt their signals.

This resolution, once he came to it, barely lasted the length of an hour.

“Can I see her?” he peeked into the quarters where they kept her.

The girl sat idly on the edge of the bed, both hands folded in her lap just the way she’d been trained to. Her hair had come undone — and now furled into spirals at the base of her neck. She’d gone dead-eyed. That was exactly how they wanted them.

She still startled when he entered. 

“Sorry,” she said without hesitation, with no conscious effort. “I’m sorry, sir.”

He used to think he was good at apologizing, after a lifetime spent groveling for forgiveness. It had been such a difficult day when he first realized that that wasn’t what anyone wanted from him anymore.

“Easy. Hey.” He raised both hands up slightly in surrender. “Not gonna hurt you. No one’s going to hurt you. You’re okay.”

The look she gave him in return suggested she did not — could not — believe him. Fair. She was less than one day out, after all. He didn’t even bother to correct her on the honorific. If she was anything like him, it would take years to undo the habit.

Her chest rose and fell without her eyes ever leaving him, like an animal backed into a corner. He moved slowly for her sake, lowering himself until he sat cross-legged on the Persian carpet.

He thought he was good at apologies once, before he knew what they were supposed to be. By now, he was good in earnest. He’d been a fast learner all his life — and pride was something he’d never been afforded.

“I’m sorry for speaking to you like that. It won’t happen again. No one here will ever speak to you like that. I only did it because we were short on time and we wanted to get you somewhere safe. I’m sorry if I scared you.”

His hands moved nervously against his sleeves. He almost stopped them, before remembering he didn’t have to. When he looked up, she was still staring unblinking. Her jaw has loosened a bit.

No one had apologized to her in a very long time. She had no script to follow for it. So when she said something completely unrelated, it came as no real surprise:

“What are you going to do with me, sir?” 

There was something like betrayal in her voice. That hurt most of all.

“You’re like me,” she realized.

For some reason, this almost embarrassed him. In Galatea, his abilities are mostly rumors. Even the ones who knew for certain still assumed he was low-level. There were only a handful who knew the full extent of it. But for the most part, psychics recognized their own. 

“I came the same way,” he said softly. “This was a rescue. You haven’t been stolen. It’s okay if you don’t believe that right now. But you’re free. Only rule is that you can’t hurt anyone while you’re here — everyone follows that one, not just you.”

“I wouldn’t-“ she said hurriedly. “I wouldn’t, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, sir. Please.”

“It’s okay. You’re not going to be punished for it,” he said. “I’m not mad at you. No one is.”

Just scared, for a second. Scared of her, just like they’d been of him. The fear is what drove people crazy, what made them decide it was right to keep them in chains all his life. She was scared out of her mind, too. But no one ever cared about that.

“You’re safe,” he promised. “I know it doesn’t feel like it. I didn’t feel like it as first either — and I know I just made you feel unsafe. But it won’t happen again. No one will ever treat you like that again.”

“…Yes, sir,” she agreed, looking down at her own shoes. 

It wasn’t sinking in all the way. He didn’t sigh, even though he wanted to. He couldn’t believe how patient Kitty and Apollo had been with him in those early days. He’d never be grateful enough. He’d never be good like them, not really. All he could do was try.

“Tell them if you need anything,” he suggested. “It’s not a trick question. They’ll get it for you if they can. And they won’t punish you for asking.”

“Yes, sir.” She nodded.

Poor kid, he thought dimly. The thought surprised him. He’d never thought anything of it before, when he’d been in her position. It all just felt normal. The way he was meant to behave. It was only after years of living outside of it that he could see it for what it was.

He stood up wearily from his spot on the ground. She flinched a bit as he did, but he knew he shouldn’t take it personally.

“You can sleep too, by the way,” he reminded her. “You don’t need to ask permission.”

“Thank you, sir,” she said. There was actual relief in her voice when she answered that time. She’d been waiting to hear it.

~

The first thing he did after closing the door was go to find Kitty. She’d been curled up by the bay windows when he finally spotted her. He climbed onto the cushion next to her. She was peering at him from over the edge of her laptop screen.

“All good?” she purred.

“She’ll be fine.” He nodded. As fine as any of them could be. He really did think that his own cruelty towards her would only scrape the surface of all that she would have to recover from. But that wasn’t an excuse.

“Thank you for being kind to me,” he said softly. It sounded almost childlike now. But it was far from the first time he’d said it. “Even when I was being difficult. You were always nice.”

“You were never difficult!” Kitty gasped. “What are you talking about? You’re my favorite.”

That alone would’ve been enough to make him cry last year. Even now, he got close.

~~~

tags:

@catnykit @snakebites-and-ink @scoundrelwithboba @whatwhump

@pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @fuckass1000 @fuckcapitalismasshole @defire

@micechomper @writereleaserepeat @aloafofbreadwithanxiety @floral-comet-whump @littlebookworm69

@lordcatwich @human-123-person @paperprinxe @whomeidontknowthem @chiswhumpcorner

@bacillusinfection @ichortwine @whump-queen @lumpywhump

@jumpywhumpywriter @sir-fenris

[sirnef-fenris]

Couldn't read much of anything today, but this alone fed me with all whumperflies I needed to be happy.

Commentary time :D (a bit shorter, tho :(, had little time)

Kitty stepped forwardly slightly. It did something to him then, to hear her slip back into sweetness. The words had the same gentle tone that she’d used for him when they’d first dredged him up out of the water. When he was scared.

Kitty caretaking mode <333 🥰

It was mostly adrenaline that moved him then;  his heart was beating too quickly for him to make sense of it. But in the next second, he’d zeroed in on the psychic.

Ooohh, I wondered what would make him step in. It feels so organic and smooth :DDD

Protective Delta :D 🥰

The pulse knocked her back into the wall. It didn’t hurt — he knew exactly how to make it hurt and he didn’t — but it had shocked her. He caught her wrist, pinning it there. The hands were conduits. Though it was still possible to use their powers without moving an inch, the immobility gave the impression of helplessness. That’d be enough for now.

✨️YEESS✨️ Love seeing Delta use his powers >ᴗ<

But...

His coldness and precision on how to do this is so... wow.

“You do not use your powers without permission.” His voice was low, more venomous than he meant it to be. “That is the first thing they teach you and there is no excuse for having forgotten it.”

OH MY GOD Delta using whumper mode I'm dying this is so cool

Delta is not a whumper <3, but he clocks the exact words so easily (of course, he's heard them his entire life). Love Delta being venomous :D, but poor girl :(

She shrank away from that. They were sensitive to scolding — every single one of them.

Whumperflies made me giggle.

“Listen to me. We are leaving. It doesn’t matter if you want to or not. You’re not going to fight them. And you’re going to do as they ask. Do you understand?”

I don't even know anymore if this is whumperflies, shock or fangirling. But whatever it is, I love it.

Delta speaking like Martino 😞 (🥰)

It was an acceptable surrender. He released her wrist, but not before wrenching it in the same direction that the others were waiting. He pointed.

“Go.”

AAAAAAAAJDJDJDJjfnfmgngR

There were little indentations in her skin where his claws had been.

DELTAAAAA 😨

He’d cowed her. Delta sat there for a second, alight in the afterglow of cruelty. It hadn’t felt good, but alarmingly enough, it had felt natural. Maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised. He’d learned from the best, after all. 

The thought made him sick.

He really did learn from the "best", makes sense he knows the words, the tone to use, the exact way to get another whumpee to do as needed.

But fuck, it's still incredible that he fills that role so naturally. Makes sense too that he feels sick from it.

“She’ll be fine,” he exhaled. “Believe me, she’s more than used to it.”

“They really talked to you like that?” Kitty frowned.

Ungrateful. Disrespectful. Brat. Don’t you ever-

Hey. HEY. Not fair with my heart.

It wasn’t sinking in all the way. He didn’t sigh, even though he wanted to. He couldn’t believe how patient Kitty and Apollo had been with him in those early days. He’d never be grateful enough. He’d never be good like them, not really. All he could do was try.

Try as they might not to, mentee caretakers will very often compare themselves to mentor caretakers. You want to be as good as them, but each person does the caretaking differently.

Things could very easily have gone really badly if Delta had not done as he had done.

And the patience necessary to be as Kitty and Apollo is a really hard work. It's an ability that needs to be fed on daily, even when you're naturally empathetic and kind.

“Thank you for being kind to me,” he said softly. It sounded almost childlike now. But it was far from the first time he’d said it. “Even when I was being difficult. You were always nice.”

“You were never difficult!” Kitty gasped. “What are you talking about? You’re my favorite.”

That alone would’ve been enough to make him cry last year. Even now, he got close.

<33333

-

I'm really, really tired, so words are not wording for me right now XD, hope I expressed myself well with the pictures.

About the color bugging, I get you :'), Tumblr is so annoying with formatting sometimes. Usually, when I do something like that, I do one line at a time and go saving each time, so if it bugs, I can fix it easily without worrying about other lines bugging. But it's still an annoyance, I know. It's fine, it's just a detail <3

Loved the chapter, really really did <333 it was what I needed to feel a little better before sleeping. Thank you for posting it for us :D

[esidvince]

caretaker helping whumpee wash their hair and gently drying it afterwards

caretaker brushing whumpee’s silky strands, humming a comforting melody

caretaker giving whumpee a haircut after a long time in captivity

caretaker having to buzz-cut/shave whumpee’s head (because of how matted their hair is, or for a surgery)

caretaker running their hand through whumpee’s hair when they’re an anxious sobbing mess

caretaker braiding whumpee’s hair

caretaker brushing a strand of hair out of whumpee’s face, or tucking it behind their ear

caretaker cuddling whumpee close and falling in love with the smell of their shampoo

caretaker playing with whumpee’s hair mindlessly as they fall asleep

caretaker wearing a spare hairband on their wrist in case whumpee needs one

[taterswhump]

He'd gone to the livestock auction for chickens. His great uncle had died and left his smallholding to him. Overgrown land full of weeds and a small house in desperate need of updating. He'd cleared out a section of the yard and had planned on getting half a dozen Bantums to get him started. Eventually he thought maybe a couple of old donkeys when he got the field cleared.

The boxie looked old for a pet, maybe 30 or so. Covered in scars and looked like he'd been hastily hosed down after a long period of being covered in his own filth. Long streaks of muck still clinging to him in places.

The men by the cage were jeering at the boxie.

"Nah look at the state of it, it's barely fit as dog bait"

"I thought Owens was meant to be coming today he usually has something decent"

Turning the tag on the cage to show the guide price

"£500 they're having a laugh, most expensive dog meat on the market at that price"

"Might be worth a punt if it goes cheap enough though. Give the guard dogs something to keep em busy this weekend"

The auction thankfully didn't drag the animals up one by one, the bids going too fast for that to be practical. The Bantums came up and he got them for less than he'd thought. He should go, something made him stay. The boxie came up. Opening bid a measly £50 it climbed slowly to £200 peering around he spotted the man he'd seen at the cage. Taking a deep breath he raised his number. The other man bid another couple of times but soon gave up, the worn out boxie not worth much.

Well this was a stupid idea. What the hell was he gonna do with a box boy at the end of its use? Maybe he could at least make him comfortable in his last days, like he'd planned to do with his donkeys.

The dog cage was hefted up onto the bed of his defender and strapped down. The cage of hens beside it then he was off home

[thewhumpywitch]

(each option is described below the poll under the read more. read all descriptions carefully before making your choice.)

choose a bed for your whumpee!

mattress bed

dog bed

cot bed

prison bunk bed

hospital bed

pile of straw...bed

royal bed

body drawer bed

hotel bed

coffin bed

illusion bed

ritual bed

Voting ended onJan 26, 2025

mattress bed: a simple white mattress in the corner of your whumpee's new unfurnished bedroom. there are a few stains and tears suggesting that it's a used mattress, most likely used for previous captives. does not come with pillows or blankets.

dog bed: this bed isn't just suited for dogs! your whumpee can fit the plush circular mat if they curl up into a tight ball, knees up to their chin. a blanket for extra bedding is optional, as well as a second blanket to keep whumpee warm on those chilly nights.

cot bed: designed for babies and toddlers, this cot bed has rails on all sides to prevent whumpee from falling, sleepwalking, and escaping. though small in size, your whumpee can fit if they make themselves as small as possible. comes with optional baby mobile, baby blanket, and pacifier for all of whumper's humiliation needs.

prison bunk bed: whether it's the top or bottom bunk, this bed consists of two firm mattresses on a metal frame, and one pillow and one blanket each. the pillow is saggy and provides no neck support, and the blanket is quite thin. but perhaps the bunkmate is whumpee's biggest concern...

hospital bed: though this bed is supposed to be comfortable for patients, it carries a clinical sense of unfamiliarity, and the dread of not knowing when whumpee will be leaving. the sheets are scratchy, obviously not the same detergent as what whumpee uses. it doesn't have whumpee's plushies, or pillows, or blankets. and there's that distinct hospital smell to it.

pile of straw: exactly how it sounds. it's uncomfortable, itchy, and whumpee can feel the straw poking and prodding and rubbing up against their skin. but it's the only place they could find to sleep in this 'abandoned' barn. or maybe it's the only place whumper allows them to sleep, being part of the farm.

royal bed: this four-poster canopy bed is the pinnacle of luxury, draped in lavish curtains that can be drawn for privacy, covered in fancy throw pillows, and decorated with the finest quilts over two mattresses. even the bed frame itself is rich mahogany with ornate patterns carved in the woodwork. maybe this bed belongs to whumpee. maybe it's the 'public' royal bed that is only for ceremonial use, and whumpee retires to a smaller, private bed after. or perhaps this bed belongs to whumper, and whumpee has the honor of gracing it for...certain reasons.

body drawer bed: morgues are quite efficient in how they store corpses, using metal drawers that slide in and out. whumpee may not be dead (or maybe...undead? presumed dead?), but the facility would rather not expend space and money on an actual bed for them, so drawers are the way to go. they prevent escape, they keep the body still, and it's not like your whumpee deserves to be comfortable. they're just a weapon. an object. a thing that serves a purpose.

hotel bed: a simple, no thrills hotel bed with your standard white sheets, white pillows, and perhaps a beige blanket over a thin comforter. maybe this is just a temporary place to sleep as your whumpee is on the run, or in hiding. or maybe whumper would just rather keep whumpee in a hotel than at home. perhaps this is the bed where whumpee is peacefully asleep, enjoying their vacation, when the hotel door silently opens and a gloved hand presses down on their mouth, silencing their screams...

coffin bed: a lot of time and effort goes into making coffins beautiful and comfortable, even if the dead can't enjoy it. your whumpee may not enjoy being buried alive, or sleeping in a coffin their first night as a vampire, but they might appreciate the soft satin interior!

illusion bed: this bed only exists in whumpee's mind. maybe it's from a memory, used to cope with those cold, lonely nights on the floor, wishing they were safe at home. or maybe it's a construct created by the mental dream world that whumper has made for them, so that they smile and sigh happily as they snuggle under the covers, not feeling the pinch of a needle sliding under their skin, or the sharp scalpel cutting into their flesh.

ritual bed: this bed is only used for specific rituals, a slab of stone with religious symbols etched into it and sheer silks draped for decoration, typically drawn back. instead of a mattress with pillows and blankets, this bed has metal cuffs to secure whumpee with and holes in the bottom to help blood drain out. they have to keep this bed clean for the next ritual, after all.

optional:

vote without reblogging

vote and reblog to pass it along

say which bed you chose for who

say which bed is your favorite and why

draw or write something using your bed of choice

completionist route: put your whumpee(s) in all the beds and either share your scenario or draw/write something for each one

have fun with your bed whump! :)

[sirnef-fenris]

I've fed you guys with only chibi arts up until now. Time to show you how Cyrus actually is, right?

-

(Arts' masterlist) - (Curse of Withering)

-

Taglist: @whump-till-ya-jump @floral-comet-whump @paingoes @bonbonbobomb @inhurtandincomfort

─────────────────────────────────

➛ 𝐂𝐲𝐫𝐮𝐬'𝐬 𝐀𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

This is my baby <3

-

This is my baby with some extra lighting, because I love to play with lights and shadows.

-

And this is the picrew that started the art.

[lethologick]

y’all ever think about characters who’ve been traumatized and continually hurt, lashing out and getting angry? Baring their teeth because someone is too nice? Or maybe not even that. Maybe nothing is wrong at all, but they still feel off and angry. Not knowing why terrible words leave their lips, but god, they’re too far in and they can’t stop digging their own grave. Like the moment they stepped out of line, did or said something fucked up, that line was actually a cliff’s edge and they just keep falling. It won’t stop till all their bones break. They just keep hurting people. Every response is a sword or shield, it’s something they can’t stop clinging to with white knuckles, because the fight never ended for them.

[bonbonbobomb]

in institutionalized pet whump universes do you think they have like. human pet petsites. like neopets or flight rising but just like. with a person.

do people have human pet fursonas. do those count. do people identify as petkin. like what are the implications of a universe where people at large are willing to accept that human pets are basically an animal, a whole other species to them, even though it's not true?

[bonbonbobomb]

nintendogs but human pet edition...

[bonbonbobomb]

in institutionalized pet whump universes do you think they have like. human pet petsites. like neopets or flight rising but just like. with a person.

do people have human pet fursonas. do those count. do people identify as petkin. like what are the implications of a universe where people at large are willing to accept that human pets are basically an animal, a whole other species to them, even though it's not true?

[studyofwhump]

My brain feels so scrambled…

Tell me about the first time your OC was whumped?

[thewhumpcaretaker]

I inspired myself with my own prompt list and now I want to write about a Caretaker who’s a lawyer helping whumpee seek justice against Whumper - or better yet, clear whumpee’s name of false accusations Whumper made to cover up their own crimes.

They have to go through the gruesome details of what happened to whumpee, and coach them to testify effectively. They try to stay professional, but the truth is that they stay up every night worrying about this case - and about whumpee. Maybe they get into a heated exchange with Whumper in front of the judge. Maybe whumpee faints in the middle of the courtroom from stress. Aaaaaaaaaaaa…

[whumppromptoftheday]

Accidental whumper realizing whumpee’s afraid of them

[whumpsday]

Tomcat Indisposables

Misc writing masterlist

content: g/t, borrowers, tiny whump, poisoning, accidental whump, rescue, caretaking, starvation, begging, near-death experience

so, this is a weird one. it’s a fix-it fic for a sad song. the song in question is Tomcat Disposables by Will Wood, for which you can find the music video here and the lyric video here! HIGHLY recommend listening to this song before reading this fic, to get the context of the events leading up to it! i suppose this is fanfic for a song, in a way? a sequel to a song?

-

It wasn’t a mouse.

Casey looked down incredulously at the tiny person collapsed against the kitchen floor. He was unconscious, clearly. Curled up with his arms wrapped around his stomach, eyes closed, face red and clammy. He looked sick.

He would probably be about four inches tall or so if he uncurled. Maybe not even that. Three inches.

Casey’s eyes slowly drifted to the mouse trap set out by the stove. Not a trap- disposable bait station, whatever it’s called.

The bait inside had some tiny bites in it.

Their heart filled with dread as they realized what they’d done. It wasn’t a mouse. It wasn’t a mouse. Oh my god. It wasn’t a mouse.

The tiny man wasn’t dead. They could see his chest rising and falling, barely. His breaths were far too shallow.

They crouched, scooping his too-warm little body into their shaking hands as gently as possible.

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[writing-prompt-s]

A spy found out they took the wrong fake identities with a completely different looking photo, gender, and height. When questioned, they decided to double down as a last ditch effort. "How dare you, that was me a decade ago, a lot has changed since then"!

[sirnef-fenris]

12, 29, and 33 for wilson-- and 27 and 28 for cyrus!! if that's ok LOL

Thank you for the ask!!! :D.

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(Ask game) - (Curse of Withering)

12. (Wilson) What are some of your character's pet peeves?

Annoying laughter (80% of all laughter is annoying to him) and bad hygiene, but he's used to that one because... military, war, yk?

He is a cranky man, so he has a lot of small pet peeves like that. (And usually they're reasons to yell at Cyrus, even if the boy didn't do anything)

19. (Wilson) Summarize your character's goals in one sentence.

Survive the war along with his closest friends.

33. (Wilson) What are three positive traits that your character has?

Hard-working, loyal and knowledgeable.

He does put in a lot of effort on his work, is very intelligent when his pride is not on the way and is very loyal and protective to his closest friends.

27. (Cyrus) How does your character view themselves? (Expectations, intelligence, confidence, self-belief, etc.)

Already answered this one here <3

28. (Cyrus) What emotion is the most unfamiliar to your character and how do they deal with it?

You know that yellow part? Yeah, that's the answer. He doesn't deal with it, he just cherishes the little moments he has to feel those sometimes. That's why he calls those moments "happy time". Because it's the only time he can be happy, just a little.

He also very rarely feels anything close to anger. He deals with that with feeling bad, fearful, or sad until he doesn't feel anger anymore.

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Taglist: @whump-till-ya-jump @floral-comet-whump @paingoes @bonbonbobomb @inhurtandincomfort

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[bonbonbobomb]

btw if you're lucky i might use that 50-questions ask game to make little preview drabbles!!!

[sirnef-fenris]

can I use my "technically inspired cyrus via the prompt response you wrote a drabble out of" privileges to give him a rlly nice warm bath and brush and clean his hair when it's wet and apologize whenever I tug too hard plsplsplspls

Yes! You do have that privilege! You prepared the soil for Cyrus' story to grow :D (Sorry for the wait)

This is technically the first time you ever see Cyrus actually in a scene :)

Self-deprecation and kinda unreliable narrator ahead

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(Curse of Withering)

Cyrus really thinks you're just bringing him to the bathtub to drown him as punishment, so he apologizes instantly, trying to step back.

When he realizes you're allowing him to bathe with warm water, and you're even letting him use his hand freely to wash himself... His eyes fill with tears. Cyrus thanks you over and over again in a quiet voice, and says he'll behave.

You even allowed him to use actual bath products! His hair never smelled so nice before, and his body feels so floaty, so much cleaner... Cyrus thanks you again for allowing him happy time (that is, indeed, how he calls it), and he promises once again to keep behaving.

He leaves the bathtub feeling cleaner than ever, floaty in a happy way he hasn't felt in a long time.

When you reach to brush his hair, he doesn't even flinch. It's okay if you hurt him now. After you gave him such a rare happy time, he won't even whimper in pain from the yanks, he'll behave very well and be very quiet.

But... you're not yanking his hair carelessly or hissing about how "stupidly hard" his hair is to detangle. Cyrus knows he has a lot of knots, but you are careful, and even when you tug a little (nothing compared to what his handler does), you apologize.

He doesn't understand what he did to deserve this, and he's not sure how to respond to apologies. So he just mutters, "Okay, ma'am", trying really hard to keep his tears away.

No one wants his annoying crying, and he doesn't want you to be angry at him.

His eyes close from how nice it is to have his hair brushed so gently. It has been so many years since the last time someone had done that. Memories flood his mind, and he can't help but to cry again, but he makes sure it's quiet so as not to bother you. You're being kind, he won't repay it by being annoying.

When you're done with his hair, he's already asleep sitting up. Cyrus is good at sleeping in any position. For the first time in months, he has pleasant dreams.

Once he wakes up to the lonely room, he whispers, "Thank you," one last time, hoping you can still hear.

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Taglist: @whump-till-ya-jump @floral-comet-whump @paingoes

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[bonbonbobomb]

18 and 22 for your dog

MY DOGGG!!!!! tysm for the ask!!!!! i love to talk about my dog ^^

18. Who/what comforts your character? THIS IS A TOUGH ONE... dog doesn't get a lot of comfort in his current situation. but he likes the shower-- when he's allowed to be in it long enough for it to warm up. and he likes his bed. he likes being in the garage, which is where he sleeps. those are pretty much the most positive parts of his little life.

22. What regrets do they have, if any? (From any part of the story, not just exposition.) dog has. A LOT of regrets. he's hurt a lot of other pets. he doesn't know if he caused some to die. he's pretty sure he has. no one tells him anything. but he'd rather hurt someone seriously than lose in a fight, because his master doesn't want a weak dog. still. he tastes the blood in his mouth at night.

(the game)