#summerofwhump4

[equestrianwritingsstuff]

Summer of Whump #4: Escape

Warnings: drugging, vomit, blood

Villain's face was smacked against the roof of a "Villain Containment Practices" AKA a VCP car. He groaned and elbowed the ruthless Hero who dared to lay hands on him.

"Calm down," the unlucky Hero seethed. "Things will be easier for you."

"But not for you," Villain sassed which resulted in the hero lifting his head and smacking his nose hard.

"Will you mind?!" Villain yelled. He felt blood pouring out of his nose and draining into his mouth. Broken. He groaned, annoyed.

"Serves you right," the hero taunted close to Villain's ear. She pulled on his earlope and clicked the handcuffs into place.

The second that Villain was settled into the VCP car, he started blabbering and wiping his nose against his sleeve.

"Okay," he said between wipes. "So here's how it happened. I was literally walking home, minding my own beeswax, when this homesless guy comes up to me. Now, me? I am very clean and I like my cleanliness. So anyways, this guy comes up to me and now, he is begging for money and I'm like, 'Dude, personal space here'. I mean, of course this guy has no etiquette skills so he attacks me. Now, my wallet was in my pocket. Still is, for your information, you can find some nice cash in there. Anyways, this guy he touches my wallet and tries to grabs it- wait, guys, I shouldn't be being arrested. It was self-defense! Hey, hey!" Villain reached his hand forward and jostled one of the hero's head. "Wakey, wakey," he said. The hero turned and scowled at him.

"Did you hear me?" Villain asked. "It was self-defense."

"But, Villain, did you have to steal that guy's own wallet and hospitalize him?" The hero asked. "We know that he was doing something illegal also, but he being taken care of. So, please, shut up."

"But, but," Villain whined.

"Zip."

Villain threw himself back against the leather seats, scowling himself. This was unfair. Why couldn't he be a normal citizen without being arrested?

He placed a hand over his nose and summoned his healing powers. In a flash of painful light, the nose clicked into place.

"I thought we inhibited his powers," The driving hero mumbled to the other.

"Shoot. Pull over," the other, also known as the sassy one who broke Villain's nose (we'll call him Nosey), hopped out of the car and joined Villain in the backseat with a clipboard.

"So, Villain," Nosey said. "We are going to have to administer a power suppressor. Do you have any allergies to any drugs or medications?"

Villain glanced at Nosey with a "you serious?" expression. He then shook his head.

"Verbal confirmation."

"No you idiot," Villain snarled. "Are you blind in there." He waved a hand in front of Nosey's face.

"Cut the attitude man," Nosey warned and started to recite all of the questions in a bored tone like they have done this one too many times. Villain answered with the same montone tongue, sneering at Nosey like he was trash- which, in Villain's mind, he was.

"Okay," Nosey finished and plucked a hypodermic needle from their pocket. Villain watched suspiciously as they filled it up with a clear liquid from a small bottle. It was something actually from a pharmacy, he could tell. He reached forward and plucked the bottle out of the other's hands with a sharp, "Gimme."

Villain quickly skimmed over the words, stopping at each -zephines or -pams with a confused look on his face.

"What's in this?" Villain asked. Before Nosey replied, they jabbed the needle into Villain's neck and administered the contents.

"Hey!" Villain exclaimed, pulling the needle out. Almost immediately, he was hit by a cold sensation.

"Hey," he mumbled drowsily, his eyelids drooping. "Did-did you drug me?"

Nosey grabbed Villain's chin and forced the Villain to look at them.

"Of course, you were quite intolerable," then they reached behind them and pulled out another needle. The power suppressor.

Nosey easily emptied the drug into the vein on Villain's wrist with a satisfied smile at Villain's shock. They then unbuckled Villain and helped him lay down on the seats.

"Sweet dreams," Nosey said right before the darkness engulfed Villain.

Villain woke in a damp room, shivering out of his skin. He groggily looked around, found nothing of interest, and closed his eyes again. He vaguely recognized that the drug was still running through his system- whether it be the sedative or the suppressor, he didn't know which. He also knew that he should take advantage of the chance to rest while he had it.

That "chance to rest" actually became only five minutes. The damp coolness of the cell was replaced by a gust a warm air. Villain didn't care, or didn't realize, that Hero was standing in front of him.

He did open his eyes, however, when he heard Nosey's pipsqueak voice, "I thought he was awake."

"He is probably still drugged up," Hero said in her calm, orderly tone. "Oh there he is," she ran her fingers over Villain's cheek, checking for any type of reaction. Finding none, she stepped back and whispered something to Sidekick that Villain couldn't make out.

His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, but being the positive guy he was, he decided on cotton candy. Make the situation a little better.

He closed his eyes again, even though Nosey and Hero were standing right there and talking about him. He picked up bits and pieces:

"Move him to a warmer cell, one with a bed," came Hero's assertive voice.

"He doesn't deserve it!" came Nosey's ear-shattering chirps of a voice.

"He is laying on the ground in a cell, hardly able to keep his head from rolling around. Make him comfortable. He needs the rest for what's about to come."

Even though Hero's voice was indeed calming, it still made Villain's heart pump faster. They were going to so something to him. He frowned weakly- hardly a frown in the hero's eyes. He didn't know why, but it sounded like they were going to do more than just hurt him.

Kill him, or maybe do tests on his healing powers.

Villain whimpered loudly which brought the heros attention. His eyes were squeezed shut, unable to look at them. A wave a fear came over him when someone's (hopefully not Nosey's) arms wrapped around him and lifted him from his spot. He squirmed, trying to break free.

"Shut up," came a sing-song voice. It made Villain freak out, kicking and panting. It was Nosey. Nosey was touching him.

"Sheesh," Nosey exclaimed at the outburst and readjusted Villain so that they (Nosey) was much more comfortable, but the newly formed position stressed Villain's limbs.

"W- w," Villain croaked. "... taking?"

"Aw look at you, so out of it and quiet. Hardly able to form a complete word," Nosey gave a fake pouty face that Villain didn't even register.

Sleep once again tugged at him, but he tried to keep his eyes pried open. He would never forgive himself if he fell asleep in Nosey's arms.

Suddenly, after what seemed like an eternity of floating through the air, Villain was sat down on a bed. Without any resistance, he allowed his limbs to be moved around and a thick, warm blanket to be draped over his body.

He closed his eyes, relishing the warmth and inviting comfort. He let out a few grumpy mutterings as the drug took hold once again and he fell into a deep slumber that only time could wake him from.

Nosey left immediately after tucking Villain in, if they even called it that. More like heeding to their boss's orders, but they hated it. Hated the way that Villain was being treated like a hero himself.

Hero entered the warm cell that Villain was placed in. The room was much nicer than the damp one, with a bed, light, and heating unit, but still a cell nevertheless.

She walked over to Villain's sleeping figure and traced his cheek with her long, unkept, fingernails. He didn't stir, which was good. Very carefully, she lifted the covers off and placed her hand on his chest.

And then she worked her powers, digging into Villain's conscience. It was foggy, which was understandable, and very difficult to navigate through, but she still found her destination.

The truth about what happened.

She watched the scene in her head. An imposter homeless man stalking up to Villain, asking for cash. Villain refused, beginning to walk away, but the homeless guy took out a gun and smacked the back of Villain's head. Villain then wheeled around and shoved the man against a nearby wall, giving him a round of punches. As Villain performed his beating, the homeless guy reached around and took Villain's wallet out. Villain quickly finished his work with a devastating punch that left the man in a heap. He then swooped down and grabbed his stolen wallet with a shrug.

Hero gasped and stepped backwards, quickly making sure that Villain didn't wake up. He didn't, so Hero put the blanket back over him and left the room.

As she strolled down the hallway, she thought of the feeling that she was getting from Villain's memories. Innocence. Villain was innocent. Not that he didn't do the extravagant illegal works that he regularly took part in, but that he had no idea that what he was doing was wrong.

He was misguided.

It took Villain some time to completely recover from the suppressor, but when he did, boy he felt like he could fly to the moon and back.

The downside of having healing powers was that you needed them for everyday function. They run your body systems like your nervous system does. It powers them like food and water does, so when those were taken away, Villain's body went on momentarily shut down. Hopefully Hero realized this before she decided to drug him again.

One day, Hero entered his cell as he was picking through breakfast. He had no recollection of Hero's impediment of his memories only days before.

"Villain," Hero cleared her throat and eyed Villain's plate in curiosity. "It's not poisoned," she laughed, wondering why he wasn't eating much.

"Not hungry," Villain replied, glancing at Hero for a brief second.

"You need the energy. We are going to start, uh, well, work today."

"Work?" Villain asked, absent-mindly.

"Yes. You are a prisoner," the words hurt Hero almost as much as she was the one receiving them. He really wasn't a prisoner. He was going to get reformed, learn morals, and hopefully become a hero, which was a long shot, but one should always hope for the best.

Hero sat on his bed as he finished lapping up the breakfast, which took a good thirty minutes. Hero was patient, however. Villain would need time to be assimilated into a hero's society. Spending some time in silence, watching him eat was insignificant compared to what he was about to do.

Two days later, Villain was throwing up in a toilet. Throwing up, not due to sickness or eating something funny, but from stress and exertion. The exercises that the heros made him, along with all the other "reforming" villains, were insane and taxing. Not to mention the mental strain with all of the "moral speeches" and assessments. Mulitple choice questions like: Which is the right thing to do when you see someone being beat up? A.) Call the cops or heros; B.) Stop the fight; C.) Talk them out of it calmly; or D.) All of the above. Villain put down B.

He failed the test.

Villain rested his forehead against the cool toilet seat. He had to get out of here. Runaway and leave. If only two days led up to the this, Villain glanced down at the bloody vomit in the toilet, then what would two weeks result in? Power suppressing? Villain shuddered. He couldn't go through that again.

So, Villain made the decision right then and there, infront of the toilet, that he would escape tonight and leave the city.

Forever.

[apineapplewithissues]

Summer of whump

June 2021

4. Abandoned/ escaped

(I think I’ll just mix all prompts if I’m honest)

Tw: non-con touching, betrayal, coercion

(Unedited) - 🍍

•===============================•

Whumpee landed with a dull thump, the supple grass beneath his feet dampening the noise.

Grass. He hadn’t felt grass for so long.

Whumpee shook his head, swallowing before taking off in a sprint, light on his feet to muffle any noise, any whisper that he was leaving.

Whumpee, in all the tricks he’s learnt from team, convinced whumper that he was good enough to stay alone, by himself.

It took months of work, months of subtle mistakes whumper was all too keen to fix, but whumpee was smarter, never fully revealing his hand without a hidden card.

His breath misted in the cool air, what had been dusk slowly becoming nightfall. Whumpee had been careful to keep close to the main road, but not close enough any passing car could spot him.

It wasn’t long for the expanse of land to become building fronts, recognisable buildings at least.

Hold on.

Surely he was mistaken, his mind playing tricks,— this— this couldn’t be-

Headquarters.

Whumpee rounded the corner and sure enough, the dusty old bookstore tucked away amongst extravagant buildings left a bitter taste in his mouth.

All this time, all he’d achieved to escape... and team was right here? He shifted his eyes around the almost empty streets, save for a few listless souls minding their own business, and pushed through the locked door, seeping through the seemingly solid material as if it were water.

Sure enough, it was empty, usually is at the front at this time of night. Such a stark difference from the outside to inside, with tall white walls and marble floors.

Whumpee hesitantly stepped forward, still light on his toes from being taught to walk quietly. Teaching himself to not make a noise.

He walked down the corridor, half expecting it to be empty, making sense as to why team hadn’t come for him... but... there they all were, sitting around the lounge like they normally would.

Team leader was the first to notice them, lingering by the door. He did a double take, gasping and eyes going wide as he jumped to his feet, startling everyone around him.

“Whumpee! Oh my god it that you?”

Like clockwork, six heads snapped to the doorway where the black clad silent whumpee stood, and whumpee stepped forward, a strained smile gracing his lips.

“H-hey... its been a whi-“

Whumpee let out a soft oof as a body slammed into his side, team member having leapt out of her seat to embrace him in a hug, fingers squeezing painfully tight into battered skin covered by thick clothes. In a matter of seconds whumpee was swamped, wrapped up in a tangle of crying limbs, every single one of them crushing him to the very core, in an embrace he’d longed for for months on end.

“You’re back whumpee!” Team member whispered, voice breaking just a little bit as she refused to cry. “Oh thank god you’re ok.”

“I managed to convince him to leave me alone,” whumpee began, smiling fondly at team captain, who returned the smile with a short nod. “And then it was only a matter of time before I could slip away with him noticing.”

Team pulled him into a hug again, all kind words and ‘we’ve missed you so much’s’ but whumpee could feel something. Something was wrong. Something prickling on the back of his neck.

“Who is this?” The unfamiliar voice behind whumpee made the whole group still, the warmth in the air thickening to ice.

They were small, a friendly looking sort with a glass in hand, head tilted curiously as if to ask what was going on.

Team leader approached them first, nervous smile playing on their lips, “ah, this is whumpee,” he said to the smiling face, “and whumpee... this is replacement.”

Whumpee didn’t move. Couldn’t move more like. The person felt exactly like he used to, a buzz brimming about their step, a carefreeness about their smile. It made a lump form in Whumpees throat, thoughts twisting into something foul.

“Oh... I didn’t realise... I was being replaced.”

Team leader blinked, before jumping into motion, hand resting on Whumpees shoulder supportively. “No, no, they’re not replacing you! No one could replace you... they were just... filling in. Until you came back.”

The words cut deep. Filling in. Until you came back.

The replacement stepped forward now, all smiles and bright eyes. “Oh! You’re whumpee! You look a bit different than I imagined.” They leant forward, beady eyes raking down their black clad frame. “But yeah, I was only recruited because they needed you and you’d gone missing, so I filled in the spot until you came back!”

They beamed just like whumpee used to. Before the exhaustion and paranoia had taken every sleepless night.

“Apparently I’m a really good fit for the team!”they continued, smiling at Whumpees team members. “They keep telling me how good I’m doing for a rookie, and I mean, I’m sure they just flatter me, but they’ve said I’m just as good as you.”

Just as good as you.

“Did you even look for me?” Whumpee said, turning to face their team which had long since been quiet, faces a mix of guilt and sympathy. Whumpees heart clenched, the averted eyes all they needed to know. “I’m within fucking walking distance and none of you even thought about coming for me?”

It was deafening.

“Whumper had taken you whumpee...” team leader started, face a promise of regret. “We thought you were as good as dead, it would have wasted our time-“

“Wasted your time?” Whumpee repeated, incredulous with fury roaring at their throat. “It would have been a waste of time looking for me? A part of your team!?”

“Whumpee I didn’t mean it like that-“

“All the time I’ve spent, the months of tiptoeing around whumper, of learning to be discreet. Telling myself you’d come for me eventually, and you would have wasted your time?”

“Whumpee.” Team member grabbed Whumpees wrist, her soft round eyes confused and concerned. “Why are you acting like this? This isn’t like you.”

“Like me?” Whumpee all but snarled, snatching away his wrist, stumbling away from the people that had been family less then four months ago, replacing them with someone younger, cuter, innocent. “What do any of you know about what I’m like! I’ve been through hell. And none of you even cared!”

“Of course we cared!” Team leader snapped, voice reverberating through the air. “You were an important asset to this team. Of course we needed you.”

The words hung in the air, Whumpees head ringing from the pain of it all. Waste of time. Just as good as you! Why are you acting like this? An asset.

This was never his family. How could he have been that stupid?

He silently turned on his heel, a master of it by now, and moved so quickly team had barely so much as called his name before he was gone.

Whumpee kept walking, unsure of what to do now, where he would go, how he was going to survive. And it hurt, so much more, that not a single team member had followed him. Tears sprung into his eyes and he rubbed harshly, running faster.

Was this really what team was doing for months? Moving on with their lives like whumpee didn’t exist? Replacing him without so much of a second thought with someone younger, softer, just as good as him.

They didn’t even go after him. He wasn’t worth that much.

Whumpee slammed into a body infront of him, eyes widening and blinking rapidly to unblur the tears, rubbing at his face, mouth already bubbling an apology.

“You should really watch where you’re going.”

Whumpee froze, the voice ringing like dread in his ears, head snapping upright to come face to face of none other than whumper.

“Now now my dear, no need to look so scared.” Whumper said, easily catching Whumpees wrist, swung out in a futile attempt to protect himself. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Whumpee breathed hard, panic building in his skull, the fingers around his wrist so loose, and yet so, so deadly.

Whumper cocked his head to the side, brushing the tears off of Whumpees cheeks. “My, I take it your team-reunion didn’t go so well?”

Whumpees mouth popped open, lost for words as whumper shushed him, finger pressing To his lips.

“You didn’t think I’d really let you see them on your lonesome did you? You’re much too fragile for that whumpee. That team of yours could break you.” Whumper smiled lavishly, those possessive eyes raking up and down his skin.

Whumpee blinked, a shiver creeping up his spine as he realised that whumper had known. He’d known the whole time, and he’d just let him go. Watched him in fact. He tried to steel his voice, clenching the fist with whumpers hand still fitted around it.

“What do you want?”

“Hm? Me? Nothing.” He smirked, brushing his thumb over the top of Whumpees knuckles, as if trying to reassure him. “It’s what you want that matters.”

Whumper pulled away as whumpee frowned, a suave smile on their face. “I mean, it must hurt at what team did to you, leaving someone as precious as you to someone like me? What were they thinking.”

He bent down low, kissing whumpees knuckles, a cheeky grin on his lips. “Surely you don’t want to just leave it like that. Surely you want to make them regret leaving you to the dogs?”

Whumpee snatched away his hand and took a step back, face twisted. “I don’t want to hurt any of them.”

Whumper smirked rolling their eyes. “Oh don’t be coy, I felt your anger from a mile away. The injustice, the pain... I know you want to make them regret leaving you.”

Whumpee took another step back, disgusted, but he found himself backing into a wall, whumper taking a step forward, whispering into his ear. “Don’t you want to work with someone who cherishes you? Who would burn the world for your sanctity? You’re a diamond whumpee, and I know just how to make you perfect.”

Whumpee shivered at whumpers breath in his ear, head pressed flat against the wall behind him, purring into his neck.

Slowly, whumper took a step back, whumpee tilting his head to look at whumper, in all their possessive and crazed glory.

“It’s just something to think about, whumpee.” He said, barely above a whisper. “I’ll be waiting for you. All you have to do is call for me, and I’ll be there.”

And just like that, whumper was gone. Whumpees mind churning with too many thoughts, too many feelings, but one thing one was certain, and he knew it wouldn’t change.

Yeah, he would really love to show those bastards exactly what they’re missing.

•===============================•

[sideblogformindtrash]

SUMMER OF WHUMP - DAY 4 - ABANDONED

Mind the huge cw. Is mostly just discussing it, but still.

CW: Insinuated no-con; past-abuse; relieving past trauma; abandonment; very low self esteem; humiliation; accidental triggering; bait dog; whipping; starvation; shoved in luggage bag; bitten by mice; gross food; claustrophobia; burns; no-con drugging; no-con touching; mentioned amputation; pet whump; multiple whumpers; human trafficking; muzzle; starvation; neglect; manhandling; cruel/intimate/neglectful whumpers;

“H-hello and welcome to BB’s and Pastel’s show!” ...Pastel turned the octopus plush around as BB turned the camera on. It went from a pink, smiley octopus, to it’s frowning gray insides. Pastel pulled the blankets over his head, leaving only his eyes out “...I’ll be your host, BB, and this is my assistant, Mr.Tonsils!”

BB lifts Mr.Tonsils in front of the camera, waiving his little furry paws so he can say hello to their audience. They pick up the camera, and take it to the bed with Pastel, capturing his pretty pink-ish eyes. 

“C-come on Pastel! Say hi!”

Pastel shifts slightly under the blanket.

“I’m… Not a fan of cameras, BB'' his voice is just a whisper, as he twists the blanket. BB thinks he is kneeling “...I’ll just… be your audience today, okay?”

“O-oH! Sorry!” BB stepped away. That was right. Pastel didn’t have good memories about that. BB pointed it away, making sure only they and Mr.Tonsils were on frame. Pastel seemed to relax, even sitting back and lowering his blanket cocoon “...So, due to technical issues, Pastel won’t be joining us tonight. But that 's okay. BB and Mr.Tonsils are here to entertain you!”

BB smiled, making sure to show the missing little teeth. Just like Blue. Just like Blue… before, at least. 

“...Well, for tonight’s show me and Mr.Tonsils prepared a top 15 review!” BB wasn’t sure if it really classified as such. But it sure sounded nice “BB will be going over all of our old homes!”

They noticed as Pastel frowned, suddenly changing their expression, way more alert. BB only felt more excited. If Pastel was paying attention, it clearly meant the topic of the video was interesting! Audiences would love it! Even… Even if this was never going to be aired. BB could picture the audiences!

...With a deep breath, they braced themselves and started. They had prepared for this. They could do it.

“...BB’s begun it’s life like us all, in b-between white walls and tiled floors of the training grounds. They were worthless and ugly and dumb, BB’s smile never charmed anyone! It took a long time in the store before BB got home. It was and old lady that said BB was so ugly that it hurt, and dumb as a door, but worked well enough to, to scrub her floor” BB smiled, remembering the cozy attic, where they made their first friends, among piles of boxes that compiled their first owner’s life. Long nights they spent alone there, digging through piles of pictures, trying to piece together what a human life was like. Nonsense, it was, because it just filled BB’s head with a lot of silly thoughts.  They lifted Mr.Tonsils for the camera “...BB worked the day and spent the night locked away. In the house’s attic, BB made their first friends. They were Mr.Tonsils crowd, a family of mice, and BB befriended them all, even if they’d bite BB’s feet while it was trying to sleep! BB loved the house, their first owner, and e-every single mouse!”

BB hugged Mr.Tonsil, swinging him around. Pastel was biting his lip, pulling a thread out of the blanket. Good! He was enjoying the story! And BB felt like they were doing good, too. Better than they did at any of their homes.

“...First owner got tired of BB because the stupid Pet let her cat flee! All BB wanted to do was help and clean, but the cat saw their chance and ran away. First owner took BB to a store with a mean looking clerk. They agreed BB was ‘So ugly it fucking hurt’, hoping BB would only stay a few days and them someone would want them” BB rubbed their hand together. That didn’t count as an owner, did it? It was only temporary, in nature. Not that owners lasted very long “BB was at the store for almost a full month, during which they got to eat, sleep and there was no work. BB wanted to make friends with other pets in cages, but they never stayed for long, after all - good pets get good homes!”

...BB was still upset about the store. All of those Pets had looked so nice, so much better than they are… And they never tried to talk to BB. They were all scared they’d be beaten down if they tried, but never were. BB was the only worthless one, that got the punishments… for everyone!

“...BB was bought by creepy looking guy who stuffed BB inside a cage and on a plane and was flown away” BB gestured with their hand, copying the movements of a plane. They had to be on the chair, so it would look nice on video, but otherwise, they would have liked to run around with their arms opened “...Creepy man named BB Bait. They were a teaser for a larger, angrier Pet named Spike, who had on BB a nice punching bag who couldn’t put up a fight. They were nice to BB and even a friend, but scary and cruel when the Master decided they needed to beat them. So BB was Spike’s chew toy, but when they were nice… BB was always filled with joy!”

...They closed their eyes for a second. Those two lives were merged together. One of them had been so short, they could barely remember the second dog.

“...After Spike got tired, BB was sold again, to be another dog's punchbag. And he was the third friend BB had! He refused to hurt BB, would even cuddle them to sleep, and then I was severly punished… For making the Master's dog weak. It was the first time BB tasted a whip, and with dark bruises on its face, BB was sold again”

...They stood in that second store for a week. With no food, and no sleep. They were dirty, and cheap, not worthy of caring for.

“The next Master had BB as furniture for his house. All he did was snap his fingers and that was BB’s call. It would crawl and hold things very still and keep his glass fill, he would rest his feet over BB. If it got boring the cane was always on hand, he could crack in on BB’s back and get it all shades of purple and black. BB didn’t sleep there much at all, it had to stand still behind his bed, all night long holding a water jar upon a tray, in a perfect 90° degree, or there was always hell to pay” BB touched their arm, absentmindedly, a small scar on their elbow where bone had poke through “But BB was ugly furniture, bad and broke away, when Master tried to sit over its back one sad summer day. BB tumbled to the side, knocking Master to the floor. BB got a broken arm and was kicked out of the door!”

“...The next Master that took me in was cruel and harsh, with unusual punishments that left some scars: fingers pulled back until they snapped, weights to BB’s feet, heavy chains and painful strains and the worst - the oven’s flame” BB tilted their head. That Master, too, had scars. They didn’t know how she had gotten them, it was not it’s place to ask. They… They were happy to leave that one “...BB was then lost in a card game, and doesn’t remember much at all. Pills made BB sweet and kind and small. What BB doesn’t get is that they never needed pills - they would never disobey, even if put through awful, lingering pain, they’d love Master all the same.”

...Hazy. Foggy memories. Hands over them, and brushing their cheeks, and so much drool because they were never cohesive enough to form words or move. Blinking white lights, whispered little things that returned to them in dreams.

“...When BB was sober again, they found themselves in a shed, where they were always so alone. The Master was a mountain who only came at night to beat BB down. The days went by slowly, loneliness crushing down, it was dark and cold and hungry, and there were spiders all around“ BB stopped their speech for a moment. This next part was something… that still haunted them. They had done… awful, awful things. They covered Mr.Tonsils' ears. They were afraid of what he would think “...BB, on that shed, made things it would rather forget. Just like the Master forgot BB had to fed! BB might have eaten a few of Tonsil's friends, please don’t let him know, is just BB’s stomach hurt so much and it was the only thing that could stop the growl”

BB releases Mr.Tonsil’s ears, hearing a gasp from Pastel. They turn and smile, but his face is… Pale, horrified. BB shrugs. Pastel always worries faaaar too much. Next one… Made BB feel nostalgic.

“Next… Was the trucker! He liked BB a whole lot, and let BB on the bed and the passenger’s seat! He and BB traveled a lot, seeing magic and beautiful places. BB spoke on the radio, and… And… Had a name! Was called Oreos...” They messed up their rhymes. This… This wasn’t how it was supposed to go “...BB was… Was happy then. His spouse didn’t like me, and… And behind his back, gave me away”

BB’s nails sunk on their arms, as they hug themselves. They… missed those days. It was good, good nostalgia, but what followed made them sick. They had just learned how big and beautiful the world was…

“Next Master… Stuffed BB into a bag, small and stinky with heavy leather smell, with no room to move at all, so much BB’s limbs collapsed when it was finally left out. It travelled around so much, but BB never got to see outside. It was let out during the night to be with Master, and shoved back on the bag once he was satisfied” BB shook their head, as if that would send the memories away. They hated it, hated that bag so, so much. Terrible, suffocating and endlessly boring and aching. And worse… that’s when they lost their name Oreos. They had loved that life. They truly had. “It didn’t matter much, BB was soon thrown away again. Unlovable and worthless, no one could stand BB for much longer either way. BB was sold and sold, always on their way. Next Master was confusing – gave BB many orders and functions, then beat BB down for following the instructions! They likes to trick BB, make plenty of cruel jokes, BB was just a dumb dog, one they only named Mutt!”

...They smiled then. The next one was also nice. His name was Wolfgang, but he was not a wolf. Not that BB could remember.

“And BB’s following owner sold stuff door to door! Saw BB – or Mutt then – and thought they were good charms! BB helped with the sales, being all cute and sweet, and Master was happy at first, but eventually… Sold me!”

And the next Master was…

BB shivered. This one… Hurt a lot. A whole fucking lot. It had been one of the longest lasting homes they had. It had changed the way they saw and thought of themselves forever. It was where they became BB. Bootleg Blue. Fake, useless, worthless.

“…Next was Owner Alvin, who BB loved so, so, so much. He said he would always care for BB… if BB could be someone else. BB had never ever been loved, and the feeling was so gentle and sweet! BB finally understood why no one else had loved it, and what it needed to do so that it would. Blue, a pet who had videos and fame, who had scars BB didn’t have… But I wanted to gain! BB left their teeth rot, BB scarred their own face, Master got angry – Bad BB, bad…” No, no, no. They couldn’t start to lament now. Not when they had gone so far on the video, already, and trough some of the hardest part “Alvin gave BB a room with a  plain white dresser, four pairs of clothes and double of socks! BB knew them all by heart and cherished them, BB loved Alvin, loved him, loved him so, so, so much. 

But …Alvin wanted BB to be Blue, but wouldn’t tolerate it when BB got the knife and tried to make the change. BB watched the videos on repeat, hundreds, thousands of hours on end, BB could cite them by head!

But BB wasn’t Blue, and can never be. BB is unworthy, and no one could love me. BB was shoved in a car and Owner broke his promise – he decided not to keep me, he, he, h-he… He, he…”

BB closes their eyes, bites back a sob. They are almost done now, and even if they completely messed up the last part…. they can push through! They can still make a nice video… Maybe the audience will like that they can be a little emotive?

“...Shoved BB in a car, drove them to a dead end. Left them alone on the streets to fend for themselves. BB stayed there alone and scared and sad, hoping someone would come… Or that somehow, their pain would end. And then Paul and Reina appeared, finding the ugly pet on the streets. Reina said BB did look like Blue! So she wanted, she wanted BB too!” BB smiled a little. Reina was pretty. She gave me good headpats… But BB didn’t miss them a lot. Paul wasn’t so nice “Paul knew BB was worthless, but Reina still wanted BB. BB was taken to their house and for a short span of time, BB was pampered, happy and loved, an illusion that didn’t last. They figured BB was fun to hurt and start to get their way – not that BB cared, loved them all the same”

They turned around for a second, smiling at Pastel. This was something they’d truly love to talk about, for once.

“But the best part was that BB made a friend when living at their place. Pastel was his name! Pastel held BB and told me it would be okay. BB didn’t have to be Blue – they loved me either way. Pastel took punishment and tried to keep Master’s away. BB cuddled them to sleep and they loved each other! They did!” 

BB smiled at this, hugging the plush. One drop of joy, as small as it had been. One that wasn’t stripped away. But the show hadn’t ended.

“…Alas we got back to IF. IF my desired owner, the true maker of Blue, the one who could make BB worthy of love… If he had wanted to. He shoved BB in a cage and tortured Pastel instead, and it was so, so awfully cruel!” BB shook their head, lamenting “But last and not least, Master Fairyman appeared! He took BB and Pastel to live with him! And he has been so nice so far, giving BB colored books! Lovely, nice and nice! And Pastel Is with me too, BB don’t know how long it will last, but BB is so, so to be here with you!”

BB finished, looking back at Pastel and drawing a heart in the air with their fingers. Pastel… is tearing up. He jumps from the bed, not minding the camera anymore, and hugs BB. BB melts, leaning onto the hug. Soft. Kind. Loved. 

“BB…” He finally speaks, still not letting them go  “Did… Did you rehearse this?”

“Many times in BB’s head!” BB smiled. Many, many, many times, all those years… “Did it come out nice?”

“Yeah…” Pastel rested his head on BB’s shoulder, hugging them tight “I love you, you know?”

BB smiled.

“I know”

tagging: @summer-of-whump@pinkraindropsfell

[actress4him]

Querencia 2 - Abandoned

(Prompt #4 for Summer of Whump)

Taglist: @darthsutrich

Previous | Next

Warnings: lady whumpee, teenage whumpee, mild blood, fantastic prejudice (for lack of a better term??), parental abandonment, foster system

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Some people’s powers manifest when they hit puberty. Others when they face a traumatic event, whether they’re a child or an adult.

Liliana isn’t really sure precisely when hers started, but she’s fourteen when she discovers what she can do. It’s a normal day at school, she’s hanging out with her friend Camila on the playground during recess, unaware that her life is about to change. Then Camila falls off the monkey bars and scrapes her elbow.

As she begins to cry, blood beading up around the torn skin, Liliana rushes to her and takes the injured elbow in her hands. Suddenly there’s some kind of blue aura dancing between the two girls’ skin. Gasping, Liliana lets go and falls back, but it’s too late. Camila is staring at her with impossibly wide eyes, cradling an elbow with only a bit of blood as evidence that it was ever hurt, and Liliana’s own elbow is smarting. She can hardly pay that any mind, though, not with her thoughts swirling around what she just saw.

Because she’s one of them. She’s a Non.

She’d been young when people with strange powers started popping up on the news all of a sudden, so she doesn’t know where the slang term came from. All she knows is that Nons aren’t to be trusted. Her father has said so, many a time over the dinner table. Her mother watches the news stories about Nons with a hand over her heart, frightened.

Camila’s mouth gapes open. “You...you’re…”

“Don’t, please.” She shakes her head frantically, tears stinging her eyes. “No lo sabia, I swear, Mila, por favor no...you can’t tell anyone.”

Her friend’s eyes are wide, uncertain. She looks from her own elbow, to Liliana’s hands, to her face. “Okay. Está bien, no lo haré. No se lo diré a nadie. I promise.”

And she keeps her promise. Camila never breathes a word of Liliana’s newfound powers to anyone, and Liliana makes sure not to touch anyone who’s hurt for a very long time.

Or at least she tries.

One time she touches her brother’s forehead when he’s sick, and he makes a ‘miraculous’ recovery. She, on the other hand ‘catches’ his cold, only she never actually runs a fever or needs to blow her nose. She just feels sick.

Thankfully no one suspects.

Another time she bumps into someone in the grocery store and hisses as her arm begins to throb. At home, she pushes up her sleeve to find out what’s wrong and sees nothing. Just her skin, smooth and brown as always. It feels like there’s a giant purple bruise there, though, the pain much worse when she brushes a finger across it.

Accidents happen. Liliana takes to wearing shirts with sleeves long enough to pull over her hands, no matter what the weather, to try to further avoid contact. She’d wear gloves all the time if that wasn’t sure to raise questions.

And all the while, the foreboding news about the Nons continues.

A Non robbed a bank. A Non killed three people. A Non cut off the electricity to an entire city.

She’s convinced that she’s the only good person with powers in the world. And her power could be so helpful for so many people, too, if only she was free to use it. Sure, it seems to transfer pain and sickness directly to her, but it never lasts. Even the scar that she got from Camila faded after a while, about the same time she stopped noticing it on her friend’s elbow, too. It’s possible that she could save people’s lives, rather than threatening them like all the other Nons seem to do.

Liliana manages to keep her secret for over a year before everything falls apart.

Her whole family is at the neighborhood’s Fourth of July celebration. Her mother is introducing her to Mrs. Bently, an elderly woman with kind blue eyes and wrinkled, gnarled hands. One of those hands is reaching for hers, and Liliana is frozen, wanting to pull away, afraid of what it will look like if she does, knowing somehow without a doubt that she cannot let this lady touch her hand, but unable to figure out how to stop it before it’s happening. The small white hand is clasped around her own. Liliana’s wearing long sleeves, as usual, despite the heat of July, but that doesn’t keep her fingertips from sticking out and touching skin.

She doesn’t dare to look down. She can feel the power going out of her, can hardly bite back a gasp as her fingers stiffen and begin to ache. But there’s still a smile on Mrs. Bently’s face, she hasn’t looked down, either, hasn’t seemed to notice. Maybe she can get away with this one more time, maybe her luck will continue and no one will know…

A strangled sound comes from somewhere to her right, and she remembers. Mamá is watching.

Don’t look don’t look don’t look she might not have seen she might not know if you look she’ll know she’ll see it on your face

Mrs. Bently’s friendly smile fades into a frown. Releasing Liliana’s hand, she brings her own hand up to look at it, flexing her fingers in a way that Liliana knows she can’t do herself right now.

“That’s...that’s so strange. My hand...it…” She laughs, incredulously, and Liliana wants to laugh with her, anything to break through the fear that’s pounding in her eardrums, but all she can do is pull her sleeve farther down to hide her aching fingers, pull until the shirt is threatening to fall off her shoulder. “It’s almost like when you touched my hand, my arthritis just...disappeared.” Another short laugh, and she reaches the same hand up to softly pat Liliana’s cheek. “Either I’m finally starting to lose my mind, or...or maybe you’re an angel sent to help an old woman.”

Another strange noise from the right, and Liliana finally gives in and looks.The expression that she sees is exactly what she feared. Mamá knows.

The rest of the day passes in a blur. All she’s aware of is that she’s bundled quickly into the car, harried excuses are made to friends, and she spends the evening in her room, hiding underneath the covers.

She doesn’t know what her parents are thinking right now. Are they mad? Disappointed? Scared?

“Anyone who says not all Nons are bad is an idiot,” Papá’s voice echoes in her mind. “An idiot who clearly isn’t keeping up with what’s going on in the world. None of them can be trusted. They all need to be rounded up and locked away for good.”

Liliana buries her head further and tries desperately to let sleep take her away from her worries.

The next morning someone knocks on her bedroom door. It isn’t locked, so she sits up quickly, combing her fingers through her mussed up hair - the fingers of her left hand, after she discovers that those on her right aren’t fond of the motion - and tries to rub away the restless night of tears from her face. “Come in.”

It isn’t her mother, father, or even her brother who enters. It’s a stranger, a tall, thin woman with her blonde hair pulled back into a severe bun. Liliana bolts upright, heart thumping wildly.

“¿Quién eres?”

“You need to pack your things.”

Shaking, Liliana attempts to back away, her thighs quickly bumping into the mattress. “What? Why?”

The woman sighs, pursing her lips, though it’s unclear whether she’s actually sympathetic or she’s just aggravated that whatever this is about hasn’t been explained yet. “Your parents have turned you over to the care of the state. I’m here to escort you to your new home.”

Liliana’s mind goes blank other than a high-pitched screeching in her ears. The woman is saying something else, she thinks, but nothing is processing. Finally she finds her voice enough to murmur, “No, no no no no no, that can’t...que no puede ser cierto, that’s...that’s not right, they wouldn’t...they can’t…”

The next thing she knows she’s pushing past the woman, ignoring whatever protests she’s giving. The house is quiet. Too quiet. There’s no music coming from her brother’s room, no pots and pans clanging in the kitchen, no tv incessantly blaring the news. But she searches each corner of the downstairs anyway, still hoping that she’ll find someone in her family who will tell her that this is all a mistake, a nightmare, maybe, that they would never, ever, send her away just because of something that she can’t control, that she would never use for anything but good.

She approaches the front door and it opens suddenly, letting in yet another stranger, a broad-shouldered man who just stands there, blocking the exit. “I’m going to have to ask you to follow the lady back upstairs and do what she says.”

The blonde woman appears behind her, at the foot of the stairs. “Your parents aren’t here. Everyone knows that Nons can be...volatile. It’s generally best if the family isn’t present when they’re taken into custody.”

Tears finally begin pouring down Liliana’s cheeks. “But I’m not, I’m not, I swear...I’ve never...I wouldn’t hurt anyone! My power is healing, anyway, I don’t…” Her babbling trails off, lost in the tornado of her thoughts.

Her family really called the government on her and...and left her.

They never even asked her any questions.

They didn’t try to find out what was going on, didn’t ask what her powers could do, weren’t concerned about the fact that she apparently has arthritis now, at the age of fifteen.

The fact that she’s their daughter, that they raised themselves and that they know, means nothing to them. She doesn’t even get the benefit of the doubt.

The blonde woman plasters a fake smile onto her face. “I know, sweetie. I’m sure you wouldn’t. But I’m afraid there are rules in place that have to be followed in cases like this.”

She doesn’t really have a choice. Between the two of them, they have her trapped, and what’s her alternative, anyway? Stay here and wait for a family that doesn’t want her anymore? Live her life with them always watching her, always distrusting, always waiting for her to snap and turn evil like the Non she is?

Liliana follows the woman back up the stairs and throws a few belongings into a backpack. She’s numb, moving on autopilot, no idea what she should actually be bringing. It feels like she’s packing for a weekend trip, not for the rest of her life.

The tears never stop the whole time.

As she’s escorted out to the black sedan waiting in the driveway, she swears she sees a glimpse of her parents’ car across the street. The driver is staring straight ahead, refusing to look this way, but the woman in the passenger’s seat’s cheeks glisten.

It’s probably just her imagination, though.

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Spanish translations (please please let me know if I got something wrong):

“No lo sabia, I swear, Mila, por favor no...” - I didn’t know, I swear, Mila, please don’t...”

“Está bien, no lo haré. No se lo diré a nadie.” - Okay, I won’t. I won’t tell anyone.

“¿Quién eres?” - who are you?

“que no puede ser cierto” - that can’t be true

[royalwhumpness]

Summer of Whump Challenge (Day 4) [Abandoned] / [Escape] [Click "Abandoned" above to see my related gifset.]

Breaking Bad [S05 E16] Jesse Pinkman (Aaron Paul)

[wh-wh-whu]

Summer of Whump 4 - Abandoned/Escape

CW: broken leg, blood, self-sacrifice

———

Whumper found them laying on the ground, their leg bloody, bend in an unnatural position, clearly useless. Alone.

"It seems like your beloved team has abandoned you."

Whumpee didn't answer. They knew what Whumper was trying to do. They knew that, if Whumper didn't kill them, they would keep repeating it as they tortured Whumpee, until they started believing that. Whumpee didn't fight as they were restrained and picked up by Whumper. They wouldn't be able to go anywhere with that broken leg.

Instead, they fought the only way they could. Clinging to the memory of their last moments with the team. All of them trying to find a way to carry Whumpee with them to safety. Whumpee being the first one to realize they wouldn't make it, they would only slow them down. Their promises to come back for them, as Whumpee silently pleaded them not to, they couldn't risk facing Whumper again. The empty smile they gave the team with the equally empty promise that they would figure a way out. The tears.

Whumpee wouldn't let themself forget.

[little-ligi]

Summer of Whump - No.4

No.4 - Escape Fandom - BBC Merlin Wordcount - 1142 @summer-of-whump

Druid Merlin AU

The wind whipped through the courtyard, snatching at Merlin’s neckerchief. The scrap of fabric tugged around his neck then wrenched free in a particularly strong gust, revealing his tattoo. The triskele on his collarbone. Instinctively his hand came up to catch the wayward neckerchief, magic shining in his eyes to pull it back to him as it fluttered out of reach.

“Hey you!” a shout from the other side of the street.

“He just did magic!” someone else shouted.

Merlin’s eyes went wide as he realised what he’d done. He hadn’t been thinking. He was an idiot! He wasn’t in the forest, among his people, safe. He was on the streets of Camelot. And he’d just been seen doing magic.

Several armoured guards were running towards him, long lethal spears glinting in the sunlight, the red of their tabards bright against the muted colours of the townsfolk around him. Glancing around, Merlin saw that most of the townsfolk were also scowling at him; many in fear, some in hatred. Druids were not welcome here.

Continue reading on Ao3, fanfiction.net or below! 👇

He took a deep breath, scanning the advancing guards, and ran. There was a small gap in their line as they skirted past the market stalls. Merlin took his opportunity and ducked around a stall, diving behind a display of bread and scrambling under the table. The stumbled up, running down the street, weaving amongst startled people.

He could hear the ruckus of the guards following him and it only helped to spur him on. He ran down alleyways, between buildings, desperate to find the way out of the sprawling lower town. Another pair of guards appeared at the end of the street and Merlin skidded to a halt, frantically looking around as they shouted and pointed towards him.

His only option was a tiny narrow alley. He turned and sprinted off, swiping his hand through the air and hissing a spell to upend a bench across the street. One guard tripped over it but the other leapt over, still hot on Merlin’s tail. He dashed along a side street, jumping up and yanking a washing line down low, sheets and clothes obscuring the view behind him.

He was getting lost in the maze of streets, so unlike the forests he was used to travelling around. He hated the city.

More shouts heralded a large group of guards, some coming up behind him, another few appearing from alleys. Panicking and thrusting his hand forward, he threw the one directly in front of him back, the guard smacking into a wall and sliding down. Merlin dashed past him, glancing over his shoulder.

Dread filled his heart as he once more found himself in the market square. How had he got so turned around? He felt like a rodent, trapped by cats, nowhere to turn, no way to escape.

Barrelling through people, he ran across the marketplace, tipping stalls as he went, sending produce and baskets tumbling to the ground. The guards closed in and Merlin felt his magic surge within him, ready to protect him.

“Seize him! By order of the King!” a guard yelled, his voice loud over the bustle of the market.

Several hands grabbed for him and Merlin flung his magic out, pushing the people away. But as he turned to run again his cloak snagged on a pitchfork standing against a wall. It tore, the pitchfork falling under his feet as his cloak yanked around his neck. He was sent sprawling to the floor, pain blossoming in his hip as he landed.

Scrabbling on his knees, he tried to get away, kicking at the pitchfork to dislodge the tines from the hem of his cloak. The solid thunk of the butt of a spear to his side knocked him back to the ground, winding him. One red clothed guard loomed over him, others flooding around behind him, circling Merlin.

“What is this?” A commanding voice rang through the street.

The guards paused and Merlin looked up to see two figures strolling towards them. A bold blond prince, his hand on the sword at his belt, his arm linked in that of a beautiful dark haired woman in a long flowing blue dress. She dropped the prince’s arm and hurried forwards as the guards brought their spears down to point at Merlin.

“Don’t hurt him!” she cried, her dress billowing behind her as she strode towards the guards.

“He is a druid, my lady. We caught him in the market, sire.” The guard who’d spoken bowed but the others kept their spears trained on Merlin. The blond prince drew his sword.

“That in itself is not worth killing him,” the lady spat. “Has he committed any crime?” The guard wilted slightly under her fierce glare, but ground his teeth in resolve and wrenched his gaze from her, frowning and looking to the prince instead.

“He was seen doing magic, sire.”

The prince stepped forward, his sword coming down to point at Merlin’s chest and the lady grabbed his arm, snarling at him to stop.

“Morgana. He’s a druid,” the prince reprimanded. The sword tip trailed over Merlin’s triskele tattoo. “He has to be executed. That is the law…”

Merlin looked up into piercing blue eyes. They were clouded with indecision and remorse and Merlin took advantage of it, using the prince’s moment of hesitation to knock the blade aside with one hand.

His other hand darted up to send a shockwave of magic out. The prince stumbled back, crashing into one of the guards and tumbling over. The rest of the guards were blasted away and Merlin had a clear path to run when he clambered to his feet. He caught the eyes of the dark haired lady for a brief second and she nodded encouragingly, gesturing for him to run, her expression worried but hopeful.

He smiled, sending a ‘thank you’ to her in mind speak, knowing she would hear it – he could sense the magic deep within her. She startled, her eyes going wide as he turned and dashed away in the direction she had pointed.

He ran across the market again, jumping over tables then through the stables, one hand trailing along the front of the horses’ stalls, magically unlocking the doors. Horses whinnied and stamped their feet, trotting out of their stables. Merlin dodged between them, bursting from the far side of the building. He scrambled around a corner and his heart soared as he saw the gatehouse. The guards by the gate were lounging against the walls, chatting idly, they clearly hadn’t heard the commotion in the market.

Merlin sprinted past them, down the worn path towards the forest and escaped into the trees, pulling the natural magic of the forest down around him. Cloaking himself with nature, he disappeared into the leaves with barely a whisper. He was safe again.

[getyourwhumphere]

Summer of Whump: Day 4- Abandoned

“P-Please, M-Master, p-please d-don’t throw m-me out, p-please, I-I’ll be good...”

“You’ll be good, huh? Then why weren’t you good when I asked you?”

Whumpee didn’t know what to answer. It was true, they weren’t being a good pet. And they deserved to be thrown out.

The door slammed in their face.

Tears began to form in their eyes. They had failed to please their master, their reason for existence! They couldn’t hold back their sobs.

All they wanted was for their master to forgive them. No, they shouldn’t be thinking that. They were too stupid to know what was good for their master.

This was why they were thrown out. They just didn’t know their place.