hope is incurable haemophilia

22 | they/them | this is a side blog. likes, replies and follows from @runarelle

[whumpycries]

Masterlist

Holla, you can call me Runa and my pronouns are they/them. This is a side blog, you can also ask me about my fandom specific side blogs. Main is @runarelle

My askbox is always open, I'm open to prompts, questions about my series, requests, other things, or just a general hello. Always happy to hear from potential friends.

Masterlist for fics and some other general info below the cut.

Series:

Bad Blood: royal whump, vampire king whumper, human prince whumpee given to king as war tribute.

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 fervour (#6) whimpering (#7)

General Kieran: military whump, whumpee forced to caretake, reluctant caretaker

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

Alex and Nick: Whumpee turned caretaker, guilty whumper.

part 1 part 2 part 3

Other writing:

Villain whumps careless Sidekick

Villain recieves Civilian whumped by Supervillain, part two

Whumper turned Whumpee with revenge whump

Whumper realises there is no ransom coming for Whumpee

--

fave tropes: role reversals (whumpee turned caretaker, whumper turned whumpee, whumper turned caretaker, caretaker turned whumper, etc.), recovery whump, guilty whumper, vampire whumpers, whumpee thinking caretaker is new master.

some tropes i'd just rather not read or write (might change my mind on a case to case basis): drugging, major character death, box boy universe, betrayal, wing whump, domestic whump. (i reserve the right to avoid/say no to requests pertaining to things even NOT in this list, along with the right to engage with whump that DOES contain things in this list)

my blog might sometimes contain some noncon as well. noncon wouldn't really be explicit beyond perhaps some kisses and touching and would be tagged appropriately. i sometimes also reblog slight nsfw whump art.

[loveridden1999]

i need people to start caring about trans rights all around the world, not just american. the lok sabha (parliament of india) just passed the transgender amendment bill of 2026 according to which they're removing a person's right to self determination of gender unless they're examined & approved by a medical board. it's hard enough for people here to get a gender defining surgery because of poverty and being shunned by society as is, & now they're taking away their right to exist. the medical boards are bigoted as fuck. despite protests all around the country they passed it. it is so fucking bleak out here.

[loveridden1999]

An Analysis Of The Transgender Persons Act And The 2026 Amendment Bill

Legislative changes and constitutional protections are crucial in the context of the Transgender Persons Act and the 2026 Amendment Bill. Th

read it

[jumpywhumpywriter]

URGENT NOTICE TO ALL FELLOW WRITERS ON TUMBLR!! REBLOG THE HECK OUT OF THIS AND TAG EVERY WRITER YOU KNOW TO SPREAD THE WORD!! 😬

WE NEED TO RIOT AGAINST THIS AT ONCE!

I just wanted to take a second to warn you all about a new Tumblr feature that appears to have just rolled out. I have confirmed with SEVERAL other writers already that it's not just me who's experiencing it, and I don't want you to accidentally fall into the same trap.

I did a screen recording to show the dilemma, and an explanation is written below.

Basically, I'm used to being able to quickly edit my drafts and just hit "save", and it would save it and still keep it in my drafts. Easy peasy.

But NOW, for some reason whenever you hit the "edit" button for a draft, it automatically selects "POST NOW" option???? And you have to MANUALLY switch it back to "save to drafts" EVERY SINGLE TIME you edit it if you don't want it immediately posted??

I have fallen for this stupid thing TWICE already because of muscle memory of 2 years of just hitting "save" whenever I worked more on a draft. But now I have had to delete the posted part and repost twice because I wasn't finished with it and didn't want my followers to read the unfinished scene.

So, whenever you edit posts in draft, make sure to select "save to drafts" EVERY time or else you'll be accidentally posting your unfinished work every time 😭😭

REBLOG ABSOLUTELY EVERYWHERE TO SAVE ALL THE WRITERS OUT THERE BRAIN DAMAGE!!!

Sooooooo many people are going to be finding out about this the hard way 😭😭😭

Tagging all my favorite writers below

@chaotic-orphan

@faces-of-whump

@laurenpiplupfluff2

@whump-trOpes

@justbreakonme

@whumping-valentine

@whumpcereal

@mentalityofacoolduck

@kninewarrior-whump

@letters-unsending

@theultimatespicysandwich

@heros-whumper

@promptsforyourwhumpfic

@madmarsii

@galactic-worm

@whump-till-ya-jump

@nsfwhump-mania

@whumpy-daydreams

@dreamingofviolence

@f1nalbOy22

@whumplicity

@creativepromptsforwriting

@madmarsii

@luna-azzurra

@writinggremln

@akwardsilince

@redwingedwhump

@yougivemewhumperflies

@whumpycries

@whumpologyy

@bloodiedbriars

@whump-bunny

@afterdarkwhump

@assortedcriminality

@promptsforthestrugglingauthor

@hold-him-down

@whump-world

@villain-enthusiast

@invalidstories

@sunshiline-writes

@promptdumpster

@villainousauthor

@whumpshaped

@mythos-night

@loreleiloon

@wolfeyedwitch

@the-bloody-sadist

@sorrowful-hyacinth

@shes-some-other-where

@whomeilikewhump

[mj-iza-writer]

Whumpee fearfully watched as Whumper fell to the floor.

The stranger paid no mind to them while they tied Whumper to a chair.

"You messed with the wrong person", the stranger grabbed Whumper by the hair and pulled their head back.

"Go to hell", Whumper yelled.

"Got a lot to say for being at my mercy", the stranger turned suddenly realizing there was a witness present.

"Who are you?", the stranger had their full attention on Whumpee now.

"Don't mind them Cash, just useless garbage that lives here rent free", Whumper groaned weakly, "just leave already."

"I'm not talking to you", the stranger slapped Whumper on the cheek, then turned back to Whumpee and nodded.

"M-my name is Whumpee, I'm th-their slave", Whumpee shook, "please, I beg of you have mercy on me", Whumpee bowed.

"A slave you say?", the stranger turned to Whumper.

"Don't look at me like that.. I bought them fair and square, Cash", Whumper tried to shake out of the bindings, "fuck, let me go."

"I came to collect what's due to me, but I have a change of plans", the stranger grinned, then turned to Whumpee, "you buying humans with my money?"

"No", Whumper shook their head.

Cash turned to Whumpee.

"If you have any belongings or anything in this house you want, pack them. Do not come back to this room", the stranger led them out to the doorway, "I'll find you when I'm done here."

"Whumpee don't listen to them. They are very dangerous and are trying to kill me, stay where you are", Whumper pleaded.

"Ma-may I grab something before I leave this room", Whumpee looked back at the stranger.

"Yes you may", Cash nodded.

Whumpee walked to Whumper and reached for a necklace they wore. They yanked it from Whumper's neck and pocketed the chain and item that hung from it.

Before they left the room they grabbed their favorite blanket and stuffie.

"I-I apologize, three things. I forgot these were in here", Whumpee looked down.

"Now remember, pack the belongings you want and wait for me to come and find you. Do not leave and DO NOT come by this room again", they grinned, "am I clear?"

"Y-yes", Whumpee nodded.

"No", Whumper yelled after them, "Whumpee, please come back."

Whumpee packed what little they had in two plastic bags. There wasn't much for them in the house. They now waited on the bottom step for the stranger.

Cash rounded the corner and saw that they were waiting.

"Oh good, I was wondering if you'd run. I'm glad to see someone knows how to follow directions", they grinned, "do you have every...thing... that's not a lot at all."

"Yes master, I-I don't have much, but I do not need much to be happy", Whumpee bowed lowly.

"Master?", the Cash questioned, "hmm, I like the sound of master. I think you will find your new life fairly enjoyable, as long as you behave." They grinned, "I have a feeling you will be quite easy to spoil my dear, if you follow directions."

Whumpee nodded, "I will be happy with whatever you give me Master. I will do my best to be good for you Master."

"Then come along", they opened the door.

"I-is Whumper dead?", Whumpee whispered.

Cash gave them a look that said they shouldn't be asking such questions.

"I-I only ask for piece of mind... th-that I'll never see them again", Whumpee looked down before walking to the door.

"You will never see that trash again", the master nodded, "they stole from me, but unfortunately, the lesson they just learned doesn't help them in the afterlife."

Whumpee stared out of the window, it had been a long time since they had left the house.

"Traffic is terrible", Cash mumbled.

Whumpee's stomach rumbled.

Whumpee made a horrified face and turned to Cash.

"Are you hungry?", they grinned.

"No master", Whumpee shook their head quickly.

"I don't like liars", they moved lanes so they could pull into a restaurant, "you haven't eaten anything today?"

"No master", Whumpee hugged their stomach, "I haven't eaten since Monday."

"But it's Wednesday", Cash looked at Whumpee.

"Yes Master", Whumpee nodded, "but I'm okay."

"I'm getting you some food", they frowned, "I can't believe that asshat wasn't feeding you."

Whumpee's stomach rumbled again. They made an embarrassed look.

"Do you want nuggets or a burger?", Cash turned to them.

"Fine, you can have both", Cash looked at Whumpee's stomach.

Whumpee took a giant bite from the burger.

"Taste good?", Cash grinned as they reached for one of Whumpee's fries, "your fries are my fries, that's why I got a large."

"This taste delicious", Whumpee smiled at Cash, "thankyou Master."

"You're welcome", Cash looked to the road again, "I'm glad you are happy."

Whumpee nodded excitedly before taking another big bite, "mmm", they hummed.

"Tell me about that necklace you took", Cash made a serious face.

"Necklace?" Whumpee thought for a moment, "oh", they reached for their pocket.

Cash pulled into a neighborhood.

"Whumper broke the original chain", Whumpee handed it to Cash, "the chain was my father's and the ring was my mom's. Whumper took the chain and sold it. They came home drunk that night. They always threatened to sell the ring as well."

"Very nice", Cash looked it over and started to hand it back to Whumpee.

"Y-you don't want it?", Whumpee nervously looked down at the ring in their master's hand.

"It's yours, isn't it?", Cash frowned.

"Y-yes, but you're my master", Whumpee shakingly took the broken chain and ring, "Whumper said they owned everything of mine. Because they owned me."

"I'm not taking it, Whumpee. It's yours. I'm sorry the chain was lost. I'll help you find a safe place to put it", Cash pulled into a driveway, "we are home."

"Home?" Whumpee looked up.

Cash nodded, "home. You will be taking a shower or bath as soon as we get inside. I'll find you some clean clothes to wear. When I go out next, I'll get you some clothes of your own."

Whumpee looked down at what they were wearing.

"Your clothes are worn out" Cash looked over Whumpee, "I will get you taken care of."

"What are your plans with me?", Whumpee watched as Cash got out of the car. They hurried out as well. They quickly grabbed their things.

"I want to take care of you", Cash answered, "I plan on spoiling you."

"Oh", Whumpee whispered, "will I have to do tricks."

"No Whumpee", Cash chuckled, "you just need to follow directions."

"I can do that", Whumpee smiled happily.

"And that's all I ask", Cash opened the door, "go that way to the bathroom and strip. Room at the end of the hall. Set your bags here."

Whumpee hurried and did what was said.

They covered themself when Cash came in.

"Here are some clothes for you", Cash set a few things down on the sink, "towel to dry off, loofah for cleaning. Use the soap and shampoo already in there."

"I haven't been able to clean myself for a while", Whumpee admitted.

"No offense, but I can tell", Cash sighed, "take as long as like. Come find me when you're cleaned, dried, and dressed."

Whumpee nodded.

Cash got up from bed and groggily walked to the bathroom that night.

They glanced down the hall as they walked into the bathroom.

It took them a minute; they stood in the doorway of the bathroom. Cash stepped back out and looked down the hall.

"Whumpee? What are you doing besides trying to give me a heart attack?", Cash leaned on the door frame, "why aren't you asleep?"

"I-I wasn't given permission to sleep, Master", Whumpee looked down nervously, "a-and there was a loud noise outside... i-it scared me. So I sat near your room to feel safer. I-I'm sorry."

Cash rubbed their face tiredly, "hold on."

Whumpee plays with the hem of the shirt Cash loaned to them. Their stuffed toy sits in their lap.

Cash appears in the hall again after using the bathroom and starts to walk to Whumpee.

Whumpee shrinks away cowardly as Cash picks them up.

"Where are we going?", Whumpee whispers.

"I need to sleep. You need to sleep", Cash sighed as they went back to their bedroom.

They plopped Whumpee down on the bed, walked around to the other side, climbed under the sheets, and pulled the blankets up over Whumpee.

"I'm not going to tell you to go back to the couch because of the scary noises a new house makes", Cash sighed as they got comfortable, "so for tonight, you get to sleep in my bed."

Whumpee cuddles their stuffie close, "a-are you sure?"

"I wouldn't have put you in the bed if I was unsure", Cash mumbled tiredly, "get some sleep Whumpee."

"Thankyou", Whumpee whispers before shifting slightly to get more comfortable, "good night", they whisper.

"Good night", Cash whispers.

Taglist. As always, please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@weirdthingweee @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@cyborg0109 @idontreallyexistyet

@painfulplots @whumpbump

@everythingsscary @skittles-the-whumpee

@expressionless-fr @theforeverdyingperson

@legendarydelusiongoatee @candleshopmenace

@whumpanthems @lavndvrr

@ivymyers @starfields08000

@a-living-canvas @lumpofsand

@kitcatling @indigoviolet311

@whumpy-mountains @electrons2006

@paperprinxe @whumprince

@kaz-of-crows @mis-graves

@decaffeinatedtimetraveler94 @sausages-things

@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud

@valravnthefrenchie @glennemerald

@jasperthecapser @does-directions

@jumpywhumpywriter @blackbirdsinatrenchcoat

@mylifeisonthebookshelf @thenormalestever

@whatwhump @galactic-worm

@starmoon-constellatiom @bacillusinfection

@whumpsandbumps @tobiasbones

[mj-iza-writer]

Second part of taglist

@alyscat @wil-o-the-wips

@eternal-pain-and-suffering @yonbwekh

@rosieposey-torturedpoet @turtlesnap1

@toothless18 @1-glitch-1

@whump-till-ya-jump @ria-writes-stuff

@the-art-of-psalrmararue @glorioustrainwrecks

@shapeshifterexile @pinkspresley

@drowninyoursorrowsandfears

[whumpdoyoumean]

Whump March Madness

Round 8

near drowning

internal bleeding

Voting ended onMar 5

[dinkflocculent]

Mobster whumper and citizen whumpee. This could be used in many scenarios.

[jessebloom]

trying to make friends online like hey. do you wanna torture this guy with me?

[whumpshaped]

Hero

masterlist

well this was it! hope you enjoyed :)

content: hero villain whump, hero whumpee, hero whumper, villain whumper, medical whump, bugs, mind control, captivity, restraints, collared, shock collar, needles, noncon drugging, guns, shot, murder, death, major character death

Indigo's eyes widened, and panic bubbled up beneath the cold, icy layer of sedatives they'd been injected with. That thing… had been inside their brain? And there were more? And their head, their skull was open right now, and Doc could see it?

"Get them out," they squeaked. "Get them out!"

We're staying.

"I'm not sure I can get to all of them," Doc said, and tears began trickling down Indigo's cheeks.

"Please," they begged. "I can't live like this—"

We're staying.

"I'll do my best. It's clear to everyone at base that these things caused more than just nasty headaches… I can hear them… murmuring, almost. They communicate with electrical impulses through your nervous system. I assume you're hearing something?"

"Yes!"

We're staying.

"They don't secrete anything that would show up in a drug test. Hunter must've injected you with the eggs, and as they moved up to your brain and hatched—"

"Just get them out!"

We're staying.

"I'm trying! They're latched onto your brain, they have— teeth, I— This is madness."

"They're still— Ah!"

We're staying.

"I don't think I can do this manually. I can try to pick out as many as I can, but there's no way I can get rid of them all. Hunter has to have an antidote for this, something to kill off the worms, or leeches, or whatever these are."

"Then I need to get back to Hunter!"

We're staying.

"There's no way we're letting you do that! You're a murderer, and with these worms, you're under his control! She would just use you to cause destruction! I don't believe for a single moment that your puppy dog eyes would convince her to just give you the antidote!"

Indigo burst into tears. Their hand had been cut off, there were leeches in their brain, Doc wasn't getting it— "Please, at least let me try. Use me as bait, organise a hostage exchange or something, just let me talk to Hunter!"

We're staying.

"No. I'll take the sample specimens and work on a cure myself. We don't need a criminal to do my work, no matter how skilled he is. Indigo; I'll free you from this curse."

"Okay," they sobbed. "Do you understand now that I'm not a villain? That I wasn't being non-compliant on purpose? Please, tell me you understand. I'm not a threat."

We're staying.

"You are a threat. These things in your brain… They're dangerous, and they make you do dangerous things. But dissection is postponed indefinitely. I'll talk to Valour."

"Are you going to close up my— my head with them still inside?"

We're staying.

"There's nothing more I can do at this point. I'm sorry. You'll have to bear the headaches for just a little while longer. I will work on an antidote, Valour and Dash will work on bringing down Hunter and possibly forcing her to give up his own recipe for it."

Indigo tried not to think about the parasites squirming around in their head and feeding on their brain matter. "Okay," they sniffled.

We're staying.

—

Indigo was unstrapped and escorted back to the holding cell they had been in before Doc took them upstairs. The shock collar was left on 'as a safety measure', and Indigo was left to their own devices behind bars. Doc never once apologised for having chopped their hand off, she didn't even mention it, like it wasn't a big deal, or like it'd never happened. She simply wrapped their hand and head up in bandages and that was that. This was their new life.

Their new life, knowing exactly what the voices were, where they came from, and when they'd go away.

"I know you're in there," they whispered. "I know you can hear me. You can hear my thoughts, can't you? I don't know how Hunter came up with you, but we're going to kill you all, one by one."

You actually trust Doc?

Indigo looked down at their stump, neatly bandaged, bearing the mark of the insane medic of Valour's team. The medic that had been excited to dissect them just a few hours prior. Did they trust her? Should they have trusted her?

Hunter holds the keys, and you know that. Your only chance is to get out of this cell and go back to him. She'll know what to do.

"He'll just use me! She would never kill off his own parasites! She doesn't hold the keys to anything but a life of— of— servitude and misery!"

"Indigo," came a voice they'd learned to dread. "I heard from Doc," Valour said as he rounded the corner and came into their field of vision. "I know why you've been acting the way you have. I hope you know that this doesn't absolve you."

"But the drug—"

Shut up about the drug. They don't know about the drug. They know about us, but they don't know that during regular injections, you were physically unable to disobey. And you will bring that secret to your grave.

"There's even more?" Valour asked.

"I'm… I'm not innocent. I wouldn't dream of being absolved completely. The citizens were terrified of me. I did horrible things. But I swear to you, I swear it, I wasn't—"

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

"You weren't…?"

"I wasn't… I wasn't in…"

Shut up.

"It doesn't matter. Whatever the parasites don't want us to know, we'll figure out once we've gotten rid of them. I talked to Doc, and we've come up with a plan. You'll be happy to know that it includes you walking free."

Indigo baulked at him. "Free?"

"Yes. Free."

"Doc said I was a danger."

"I don't see you as one," Valour said easily, throwing the cell door open. "You're free to do as you wish. I'll escort you out."

Indigo slowly got to their feet, hesitant to approach him. He was terrifying, and it felt like one wrong move would set him off and make him change his mind entirely — maybe even blow their head off, like he'd done with Rider. "I'm sorry for all the trouble I caused," they said placatingly.

"You have worms in your head." Valour smiled at them, like they now shared an inside joke. His hands were no less stained than theirs. "I understand."

They took a few unsteady, hesitant steps towards the open door. "I… I can find my way out. Thanks."

"You'll need an escort. You're too easily recognisable, and with the rampage you've gone on over the past days, people will be freaking out. Think of me as crowd control."

Right. They still didn't have their disguiser back. In this state, they wouldn't even be able to go to Jasmine's—

Jasmine.

Jasmine promised to rescue them.

It was an anaesthetic-induced fever dream, and yet, they found themself tearing up at the prospect. Valour raised an eyebrow.

"Something the matter?"

You can't go to Jasmine and get her involved. Your only option is Hunter.

"Yes, I know that's what you all want!" they snapped, and Valour was starting to look like he was reconsidering his decision. "No, wait! I'm sorry, I just— The worms. I'm so sorry. Please, let me leave."

"Alright. Let's go."

—

People were indeed freaking out — but Valour's presence helped. They were soothed by the sight of a real hero escorting the failed one, and Indigo was grateful for that. They could've sworn they even saw looks of pity on some faces. They tried to hide their hand as much as possible, but there was no way to hide their bandaged head.

This was stupid, but were they ugly now? The thought — for lack of a better word — wormed its way into their head when they realised this was the first time they'd seen the sun with a shaved head. Their stupid, pointy ears were on full display, they must've looked so much like an animal—

"Indigo?"

They stopped and looked at Valour. "Yes?"

"Where will you go?"

Indigo looked at the street ahead. Valour had brought them over to their city by car, but they'd been walking for a while now. Valour didn't ask why, didn't ask why Indigo didn't immediately direct him to some sort of base, just walked with them and talked to civilians who were screaming and pointing. But time was up; they had to answer.

"Can I not answer?"

To Hunter. Always to Hunter. Like a loyal dog.

There was no way Valour didn't know the answer. Still, he just nodded. "Can I leave you to your own devices?"

"I…" They looked down at the asphalt. They'd killed a man on this street once. His blood had been washed away by rain, but Indigo could still see droplets of it that weren't there. "Yeah. I'll find my way."

"If the crowd starts threatening you—"

"Then I deserve it."

Something crossed Valour's face they couldn't identify. "I'll go back to my own team, then, and we'll work on the rest of the plan."

"Good luck. Please, free me from the stupid leeches."

Valour gave a salute and turned to leave. Indigo stood there, watching him disappear around a street corner to go back to his car. They were alone, in a city that had loved them once. A city that now sought to see them in chains, lynched maybe. People rounding the other street corner, the one up ahead, turned around and left as soon as they came. Indigo sighed and began walking towards Hunter's home. If he wasn't there, they would walk to her old lair. What they would do when they got there and stood face to face with him, they didn't know. They just knew they had no place anywhere else.

"Indigo," came a soft voice from behind them. A voice they knew well. A voice that carried no threat, a peaceful voice, a voice that felt like home. "You came back."

Indigo turned and fell to their knees instantly, teary eyes fixed on Jasmine. "Jasmine," they breathed. "You can't be here. You don't know—"

"I don't care," she said, walking right up to them. The wretch. The corrupted hero. The cut-open specimen. And she cupped their cheeks, guiding their eyes to meet hers. "I can be wherever you are," she leaned in, whispering, "Arden."

And something in Indigo broke. They hugged her close, clinging like a babe to its mother, and wept. Jasmine hugged them back, got on her knees and hugged them, rocking the two of them back and forth. She didn't ask questions, she didn't demand answers, she just held them.

"A touching reunion."

Indigo immediately shoved Jasmine away, jumping to their feet and wiping their eyes. "Jasmine, hide."

"Indigo, you don't have to—"

"Hide."

"Indigo, it's okay." Jasmine stood as well, placing a gentle hand on their arm. "We made a deal."

"A— A what?"

Indigo watched as Hunter strolled over, syringe in hand, ready to make their life a living hell once more. And while they had resigned themself to that fate back on Doc's operating table, that fantasy didn't involve Jasmine, getting to talk to her and hug her and—

"Be good, now," Hunter said with a smile, green eyes glinting with sadistic glee. "Listen to Jasmine."

"Jasmine?" they squeaked.

"Our deal—"

"You'll explain the deal later," Hunter cut in. "Tell them to let me inject them."

Indigo wanted to scream. They wanted Jasmine to scream. To scream at Hunter not to order her around. Instead, her gentle hold on Indigo's arm tightened, and she ground out the words, "Stay still for him. Please."

So Indigo did. There was nothing else for them to do. Before they were Hunter's dog, they had been Jasmine's — a fact she must've been aware of but never flaunted. They stayed entirely still as Hunter injected them with a drug that contained more parasite eggs, all the while staring at Jasmine in disbelief.

A deal. They'd made a deal.

"What was the deal?" they asked quietly, once Hunter removed the needle and threw the syringe on the ground. They were so entirely focused on Jasmine, they didn't, couldn't see when Hunter drew her trusty gun.

Jasmine opened her mouth.

Bang.

Indigo moved on instinct. They reached out to catch Jasmine's body, unwilling to watch her fall to the dirty ground, despite the life having left her eyes the moment that gun went off. They couldn't process it, even as her blood soaked the street below. One shot to the head — that was all it took. It was so quick.

"She would've cut any deal to see you again," Hunter said in a sing-song voice. "She was so dumb. I don't know what you liked about her. She was a clever engineer, but so, so stupid in everyday life."

"What have you done?" Indigo breathed.

"Now!" Valour shouted, and Indigo didn't even care that he showed back up. They knew he was bound to. It was obvious that Valour and his team used them as bait to lure Hunter out, they wouldn't have set them free otherwise, and there was no telling what they would do to them once they captured Hunter.

"Indigo, tear them apart."

The order was absolute.

And yet Indigo's body did not move.

"Indigo," Hunter tried again, more insistent. He fired off a few shots, and Indigo didn't look to check if they hit Valour. "Tear them apart."

There was nothing in Indigo's head as they stood there, cradling Jasmine's body. No parasites. No order strong enough to move them in their grief. The feeling was overpowering, strong enough to force them to their knees, where they continued to hold her, carding gentle fingers through her hair. There were two bullet holes in her skull — one going in, one going out. Indigo arranged her hair so that they would be covered.

"Indigo!"

Hunter didn't exist. Valour didn't exist. The city around them didn't exist. They replayed the name spoken from Jasmine's mouth over and over again: Arden. The name she'd helped pick.

As battle raged on around them, Indigo took one last, long look at Jasmine's beautiful eyes before closing them forever.

They didn't want to be a hero.

There was no other path for them than to be a hero.

But being a hero cost too much.

Oh. Jasmine's face was wet with tears — not her own, but Indigo's. They gently wiped them away, only for more to take their place. They heard distant murmurs of what was supposed to be the loud and clear voice of the parasites, muffled screams of Hunter that were supposed to turn their body against themself and their allies, but they felt nothing but grief. There was no one but Jasmine.

Bang.

Crash.

Thunk.

Shots were fired on both sides. Cars were being thrown across the street. Civilians were used as human shields. Hunter wasn't prepared for how ruthlessly Valour fought, and Valour wasn't prepared for whatever concoction Hunter had prepared specifically for him. Because Hunter also knew Valour must be waiting around the corner. Of course he knew.

"I'm so sorry," Indigo whispered. "I became a hero because I wanted to be liked. I was different, and so I wanted to do something… to make them accept me. But all the while, deep down, all I wanted was to impress you. I never needed to — you loved me for just what I was. Which, I still don't know what I am. Maybe I'll never know. And I have leeches in my brain, telling me to be the antithesis of everything I stood for— we stood for. Would you have loved me like this anyway?" More tears fell onto her face. "What am I saying? You loved me enough to cut a deal with a liar and cheater. You knew this would happen, didn't you?"

A civilian rushed up to them and grabbed them by the shirt, tugging on it frantically. "Indigo, Hunter is—"

"Shut up," they said.

"But—"

"I said shut up," they growled, and the woman backed up.

"Which side are you on?" she asked, looking even more frightened now.

Indigo averted their eyes. They looked at Jasmine's peaceful face. They knew what she would've wanted them to say. But they couldn't say it. "I'm not a hero anymore," they said, so quiet that it was impossible to hear in the commotion around them. "I haven't been a hero for a long while. But I'm not a villain either, can you believe that? The worms— I don't hear them. When Hunter tells me to do something, I don't."

"Indigo, we need help—" she started again. Bang. She fell to the ground, lifeless. They could've saved her, maybe, if they'd tried. They hadn't.

Valour swept in and rushed at Hunter, stepping over corpses and shooting at her. Indigo stayed motionless, clutching Jasmine's body like it would disappear if they let go.

They didn't know how long the battle lasted. It seemed simultaneously like the shortest and longest minutes of Indigo's whole earthly life. When someone tapped them on the shoulder, they didn't know whether it was Hunter or Valour. Valour, probably, going off of the scent. Did that mean he'd won?

"Indigo," he said softly, so softly that Indigo had never heard him speak that way before. "She's not coming back."

"I know," they whispered.

"We're not killing Hunter until he produces an antidote for you."

Indigo slowly, painfully tore their eyes away from Jasmine's face. "You think I care about the worms in my head right now?"

Valour gave them a compassionate look. "You have to take care of that sooner or later. Grief powerful enough to keep a mind control drug at bay won't last forever."

They looked back at Jasmine. "Do whatever you want."

He sighed. "I'll come back for you later."

Indigo had no more tears to cry. They just knelt there, rocking back and forth with Jasmine's motionless, cold body. They didn't know what Valour 'coming back for them' would entail, and they didn't care. They didn't care whether Hunter would talk, or whether Doc managed to come up with an antidote without help. They didn't care whether Valour would blast Hunter's head clean off.

They just cared that Jasmine got a funeral worthy of her.

~

tags: @whumpsday @stars-hide-our-fires @tiffany96 @awkwardpersononinternet @whump-me-harder @whump-till-ya-jump @violets-whumperflies @bacillusinfection @whumpycries

[whumpshaped]

Arden

masterlist

content: hero villain whump, hero whumpee, hero whumper, lady whumper, medical whump, amputation whump, mind control, loss of consciousness, bugs

Indigo was looking down at their stupid, useless hand. It was little more than dead weight anyway, but to see Doc cutting into it was nauseating. She worked expertly with the knife, and Indigo wondered distantly whether she had some kind of superpower related to healing, or she was just a regular medical worker who had teamed up with heroes.

Slicing.

Slicing.

Slicing.

Indigo remembered the way Hunter had sliced into them that first day. They remembered the feeling of the blade against their skin, inside their flesh, and they gave thanks that this wasn't like that.

You miss it being like that. You miss Hunter.

Did they?

They watched Doc work, severing tissue, muscles, tendons. They watched her get down to the bone and get out the oscillating saw, and their eyes widened despite the sedative, and they couldn't help a small, "Are you going to cut into me with that?"

"How else am I going to sever the bone, Indigo?"

Right. What a stupid question. They should've just kept their stupid mouth shut. What an idiot.

That's why you need somebody to lead you. Somebody to rely on to tell you what to do. And that's what Hunter does, and does best.

For a brief moment, they were transported back to Hunter's house, to Hunter's living room, to being blind, to following her through corridors by scent alone. Despite being blind, despite not knowing what she looked like under the mask, they somehow saw his face as she turned back to say something, and he was smiling, and oh— she was leading them by the hand. Was it a memory? Or did they imagine it altogether?

The saw whirred to life, and Indigo watched as Doc finished up severing their hand. Whatever had been in that syringe she had given them to calm down was working wonders, because their breathing hardly quickened even after seeing that. Even after they saw their paralysed hand fall onto the table, completely detached from their arm. Doc picked it up and placed it onto a metal tray.

"Why are you watching?" she asked.

"I don't know," they admitted. "It doesn't feel real otherwise."

"Do you want it to be real?"

Indigo's eyes welled with tears. "I don't know," they slurred. "I wanted you guys to be good guys. I wanted Valour to be kind, to understand my situation. I wanted you guys to be nicer than the villain I've been hunting, but you're actually worse."

That's it. You miss Hunter. You want to go back to Hunter. Attaboy, Indigo.

"The villain you've been hunting?" Doc laughed. "The villain you've been working with, maybe. You're trying to tell me we're worse than a team of villains? Don't make me laugh. You're just pitiful."

"Hunter never cut my hand off."

"Hunter also never sewed your mouth shut, and I might just do that if you keep spewing nonsense."

"See? You're worse than villains."

Doc's eyes softened behind her mask. "I wasn't serious. What I'm doing is for medical research. If we find out how you can regenerate so quickly, we might be able to help others. Now, let me focus on my work, if you want to have a usable stump."

So Indigo stayed quiet and watched as Doc worked her magic, pulling muscle tissue over bone and sewing everything up to where it almost looked normal. As normal as it would get. "Where will I go when you're not chopping me up?" they asked quietly. "Please, don't tell me I'll be with Valour. I'm so scared of him."

"Don't be ridiculous. Valour doesn't have time for the likes of you. He entrusted me with your care, so I decide where you stay. Now, there are two options: the holding cell, or our guest bedroom down the hall."

"Guest bedroom?" they asked dumbly. "I can… be in the guest bedroom? Like a guest?"

"I'll cut you a deal," she said, leaning in close. "You sleep in the holding cell tonight. But you let me take a look at your brain tomorrow? The guest bedroom is all yours."

Indigo was still dazed from whatever they'd been injected with, and the promise of a soft bed and warmth were too much to decline. "You really won't kill me?"

"Pinky promise."

"Okay."

No. No, you don't let anyone take a look at your brain. Are you insane? Refuse right now. Hunter will kill you if you let this woman into your brain.

"Okay?" Indigo could see Doc smile behind her mask. "Wonderful."

"Wait—" They squeezed their eyes shut, trying to keep the headache at bay. "Wait, no, I can't—"

"Why not? Your brain doesn't even have pain receptors."

"I just can't. I can't do it."

"But why?"

"I just can't!" they cried. "Please, just drop it! I want the guest bedroom, I want it so bad, I want to feel normal, I want to be comfortable, even if I'm held prisoner by you, but I can't do it! So please! Please, just let me go back to my holding cell and— and— and cry."

Doc scoffed. "You really are pitiful. You know I'll dissect your brain sooner or later regardless of what you say, right?"

Refuse. Refuse. Refuse.

"You can't!" They were beginning to thrash again, pulling against the restraints with their limited strength. "You can't, you can't, you can't!"

Doc grabbed a syringe. "Your brain interests me more and more. I think your body can take another operation." With that, she plunged the needle into their chest, and an even stronger sense of calm washed over them. They slowly quieted down, sagging in their restraints.

You need to fight, Indigo. You need to get out of this. For Hunter.

"I can't," they mumbled. "I'm sorry. I can't."

"Yes, you can," Doc said. "You'll be asleep while I open you up, then I'll wake you to test some brain functions. It'll be fun!"

You need to avoid this at all costs. Indigo, fight.

"I'm so tired…" they wept. "Please, I don't care what you do anymore, just put me under as soon as you can…"

Their headache would be gone if they were put under, right? It had to be the case. So the sooner Doc did this, the sooner they would be free of everything that was weighing on them. The pressure to be a good hero, the pressure to go back to Hunter, the pressure to keep the secret about the drug, the pressure to be good… It would all be gone. There would be nothing but darkness and bliss.

"Your wish is my command." Doc set up the room while the voice was screaming in Indigo's ear.

You'll be useless to Hunter if they open you up. Are you crazy? You want to go through with an operation that would look at your brain? Your brain function? The layout of your brain? You don't even know what you are aside from the fact you're not human, you don't know what they'll find in there, they'll put you down as soon as your brain is opened. Don't you want to get back to Hunter? Don't you want to feel his soft touch again? Don't you want her to use you again?

"No," they breathed as Doc put the mask on them to sedate them.

"No?"

"Just do it," they begged.

"Count back from ten."

"Ten… Nine… Eight… Seven…"

Floating. They were floating.

"Seven, go on."

"Six…"

Floating away.

"Go on."

"Five…"

Nothing.

They were in a dark room, and no matter how hard they tried to find a light switch, there was none. Had they gone blind? They could blink, so it wasn't that Hunter had ordered them to close their eyes. There genuinely wasn't any light that was coming in.

"Arden," came a soft voice from somewhere behind them.

That was… their name, wasn't it? They'd spent so long being a hero, so long being Hunter's bloodhound, so long… They'd almost forgotten. Arden. It had been so long.

"You know me," they said.

"Of course I do."

That voice, it was so familiar. But no matter how they tried to rack their brain, they couldn't connect a face or a name to it. They turned around and started walking towards the source.

"Arden," the voice repeated. "I'm here. It's going to be okay."

"Who are you?" they asked desperately.

"Come to me. It's going to be okay."

"It's not going to be okay unless you tell me—"

"Indigo." They knew that voice. It was Hunter's. "Come to me." His voice was louder than the strange woman's, and Indigo's feet felt rooted to the ground. They didn't want to turn around and go to Hunter, they wanted to pursue the mystery. They wanted to know who it was that knew them so intimately. "Indigo, don't hesitate. Come to me."

"Arden." The voice was becoming more distant. "It's okay."

"Don't leave!" they cried. "Please, you have to tell me who you are!"

"Indigo." Hunter was insistent. She was going to become angry within a few seconds, if they didn't obey. And when he was angry, bad things happened. They couldn't remember what. But they knew it, instinctively.

A scream pierced through the air.

It was them that was screaming.

It felt like somebody was drilling a hole in their head, there was a horrible headache, pressure building inside their skull, then tearing, somebody was tearing their brains out—

"Arden," said the voice, sounding closer than ever. "It's okay."

"Save me," they wept, and suddenly, a name popped into their head. "Jasmine. Please. Save me."

"I can't save you from here, but I can stay with you."

Another scream, this time Hunter's. It sounded distant. He wasn't telling them to obey her anymore, or to go to him. She sounded like he was in agony.

"Jasmine, what's happening? Why is it so dark? Why can't I—" They reached out and felt around where her voice was coming from. "Why can't I feel you? I'm afraid of Hunter. I'm afraid of Valour and his team. I don't want to be a hero anymore. I just want to be with you, in our apartment, eating so much chocolate we get sick. Jasmine, please, save me."

"Just hold on for a little longer. I'll come save you, but not right now. Hold on, Arden."

Indigo gasped awake, still strapped to the table.

"I think I found the source of your headaches," they heard Doc say from behind them. Then, she held a pair of tweezers in front of their face, with something between a leech and a worm squirming in it. "Your brain is absolutely swarming with these."

~

tags: @whumpsday @stars-hide-our-fires @tiffany96 @awkwardpersononinternet @whump-me-harder @whump-till-ya-jump @violets-whumperflies @bacillusinfection @whumpycries

[whumpshaped]

Hero

Good

Fun

Jasmine

Hunter's City

Message

Fear AU

Feisty

24 hours AU

Traitor

Shocked

Nostalgia

Arden

Hero

tags: @whumpsday @stars-hide-our-fires @tiffany96 @awkwardpersononinternet @whump-me-harder @whump-till-ya-jump @violets-whumperflies @bacillusinfection

[whumpsday]

K&J x MMSS: The House of One Particular Noble (Part 1)

@not-a-space-alien's desperate daybreak series has been pumping inspiration into me like absolutely nothing else, so have a new kane & jim AU!!

if you are not reading MMSS and its sequel desperate daybreak, YOU ABSOLUTELY SHOULD BE. it's one of the best whump series ever written, especially for fans of vampire whump. i've read it through a whole bunch of times and i cannot recommend it enough, seriously get on this!! you can even get it as a physical book :D

related masterlists: K&J x MMSS / Magnanimous Moonrise & Savage Sunset / Desperate Daybreak / Kane & Jim

content: vampire whumper, captivity, beating, choking, fantasy politics

takes place during Desperate Daybreak Chapter 18. (if you're not caught up yet, context is that there's a bill in the news to make vampires owning humans illegal, not yet passed.)

-

No one could have convinced Jim even a month ago that he would be pacing his room like an excited puppy in anticipation of Kane’s next feeding, but here he was, doing exactly that.

The second he heard footsteps approaching, he dropped, crooked his neck to the side, and held out a hand. “Newspaper,” he demanded in lieu of a greeting, a smile shining on his face.

Kane tossed it at him, and he barely even winced at the sharp bite in his neck, no less painful for how familiar it was. He didn’t care. He only had eyes for the newspaper.

It was right there on the front page: BREAKING NEWS: HOUSE OF COMMONS PASSES HUMAN WELFARE PROPOSAL.

“Holy shit. Holy shit, it’s actually happening. It’s really, actually happening,” Jim babbled with increasing redundancy as he read through the article. It just barely passed, apparently, but it did. “Valen Kithrara, I could kiss you. Oh my god, it’s happening.” The house of nobles was to meet on it next week, the paper said. “Hey, hey, how many votes does it need to pass the house of nobles? Is it forty-three again? Who all’s gonna be there? Anyone cool who’d vote yes, like that Bellamy guy from the reunion? Are you going?”

“Mm m-mm.” Kane’s voice came incoherently muffled into his neck, but Jim could tell by the cadence: I’m eating.

“Yeah, yeah, when you’re done. Drink up now, ‘cause it might be your last chance!” Jim laughed. When was the last time he laughed? He couldn’t remember. He earned a smack on the side of the head for it, but he could tell Kane held back on it because he was in the middle of feeding, so it didn’t hurt too bad.

Kane finished, licking his ever-present wound to staunch the bleeding. “It’s not going to pass, so stop acting like that. You’re just going to end up crying when it inevitably fails. Obviously the house of nobles isn’t going to pass this garbage. You’re delusional. And no, each family sends one representative, and they’re not going to send anyone stupid enough to support this, not that it would even be possible to find more than a handful of crazies who would.” He looked away. “And they never send me.”

“Pssh, you said the same shit about the house of commons.” It was the only thing he had to cling to.

-

When Kane came to visit him the next night, he was so chipper it was freakish. Though, Jim supposed he wasn’t one to talk, given his own unusual happiness lately.

“What’s got you smiling? You never smile.” He tilted his head and held his hand out for the paper, flipping through for any sign of new developments.

“I’ll have you know that this very evening, your master has been chosen as the representative of the de Sang family for the upcoming meeting of the house of nobles,” Kane boasted, a hand on his chest for emphasis.

“What!?” Jim leapt to his feet. “That rules! Oh my god! Is this a bring your human thing? It totally is, right? We’re going?”

The rare smile fell from Kane’s face. “Huh. I… hm.” He looked Jim up and down, obviously thinking it over for the first time then and there. “No, it’s not.”

“You’re a bad fucking liar, man. Come on, we’re going. You know we’re going. You and me.” Jim bounced on the balls of his feet. “I can even wear that suit again, the tailored thing?”

“Fine. It is a bring-your-human ‘thing’, as you so eloquently put it. No, you in particular are not coming. That’s a disaster waiting to happen.” Kane snapped his fingers, a sign for Jim to prepare himself for feeding.

“No, no, seriously, I can do it!” Jim stepped forward instead. “Just like last time, remember? I mean, last time didn’t go awesome, but that wasn’t my fault, I–”

“Do not bring up that night again!” Kane barked, hand raising.

Jim flinched back, his good arm going up to protect his face, newspaper still clutched in his hand, his weak arm hanging vaguely in front of his chest. “S-sorry,” he squeaked, bracing for the unstoppable impact of a vampire’s superhuman blow.

“You’re not coming, I would much rather explain your absence away somehow than have you embarrass me by getting starry-eyed over these radical leftists in front of every noble family in existence and the news media, that is final, no more arguments!” The hand remained still in the air.

“Yes, sir,” Jim murmured, opening one squeezed-shut eye to peek.

Kane snapped his fingers again, and Jim dropped like a sack of potatoes. “Much better.”

As Kane fed, Jim tried to breathe slower, get his heartbeat back to normal, lose less blood to this fucker. He’d gotten very lucky. He’d been certain Kane was going to beat him.

He was keeping his options open and didn’t want any bruises to show. It was the only thing that made sense.

He could dream.

Jim thumbed through the paper. No more updates about the act, just a fluff article reporting on how various celebrities thought of it, with none mentioned having anything positive to say. Sham paper. Of course Kane would buy this.

He waited until Kane was on his way out to open his stupid mouth again. “You know, if they pass it, you’d be just like all the others. ‘Cause none of ‘em would be using persuasion on anybody anyway or have humans and stuff.”

It was a long shot, to try and change Kane’s vote. He wasn’t exactly the open-minded type. But if anyone could do it, he could. He was pretty sure he knew Kane better than anyone else on earth did. It would be worth getting his shit kicked in, if there was even a small chance it would work.

Kane stopped, and Jim knew he’d gotten at least the seed in with that. Yes, yes, so, so close. He was silent for a good ten seconds.

“The votes are public,” Kane said simply, and left, locking the door behind him.

-

Jim didn’t ask again to come with, bending to Kane’s will on that one, but watching him leave for his debut in the parliament without him was torture. He even got dressed up in his fancy suit, hoping Kane would change his mind, but Kane didn’t even so much as acknowledge it.

“Kane Kane Kane Kane Kane,” he called, banging on the wall of the human quarters as soon as he heard the house’s front door open. He’d been straining to hear it, ear pressed to his own door. “Kaaaaaaaaane!”

“Oh my god, shut up!” Kane threw open the door. “Don’t start, I will have soundproofing installed if this becomes an issue.”

“How’d it go?” Jim asked, ignoring the threat. “Kithrara and Tessandrax holding up? How’s it looking? Tell me everything!”

“Actually pretty well! I simply excused your absence as an intentional slight against the sponsors, you know, my treating it as not a formal event and such, and I met some minor nobles, I think I might be able to hit it off with some–”

“The bill, Kane, the bill, the bill,” Jim urged. Fuck it. There had never been a better time to kiss ass. “Please tell me about the bill, sir. The proceedings?” He clasped his hands together. “Your parliamentary debut!”

“Oh, yes, the bill. Absolutely zero chance it’s going to pass, as I’d told you from the start, you recall. There was a vote called to close the bill every ten minutes on the dot and every single person there aside from Kithrara, Tessandrax, and Trowlaine voted to close each and every time. They were eviscerated up there, which everyone saw coming. I mean, come on.” Kane sighed. “Don’t act surprised.”

Jim couldn’t call himself surprised, really. He knew what to expect. But it seemed like a miracle that they’d made it past the house of commons, he figured there was some legal loophole they could come up with to get it through this one, too. “There’s nothing they can do? To like, get past it?”

“It’s a parliament, not a puzzle,” Kane scoffed. “I’m no lawyer, but surely, there is no way. Enough of this fantasy. It was a delusion from the start.”

“You don’t know that. It happened with the house of commons,” Jim insisted for the millionth time.

Kane rolled his eyes. “Fine. Believe whatever you like. I’m going to bed. Don’t make a racket when I come home tomorrow.”

“Come update me when you get home tomorrow and I won’t!”

-

“So?” Jim practically pounced on Kane when he came to give his update, having read the evening newspaper ten times by then. But Kane had the news before any paper would. “Any takers?”

“No, and it wouldn’t even matter to you if there were, because they changed the bill. Now we can be done with this nonsense,” Kane said.

“Changed the bill? What do you mean changed the bill?” Jim pressed. “Changed it how?”

“Any humans taken more than one year ago are excluded and don’t have to be given up, even if it were somehow to pass, which it still won’t. But now it doesn’t matter to you either way, does it?”

The act not passing, Jim was kind of expecting, deep down. He knew it was a big leap to have to make. But this? This was a slap to the face, a thousand times stronger than Kane could ever deliver with his hand, shattering every bone.

“What? What do you even–who changed it? Can they get it changed back?” He was near tears.

Kane smirked. “Your beloved Kithrara and Tessandrax. That’s who changed it. And Trowlaine flipped, he’s voting to close even that, as is everyone else. It’s over.”

The Human Welfare and Dignity Act. And he was excluded. Like he wasn’t human, or wasn’t worthy of welfare, or dignity, or all three. Just because he’d been losing his mind in this prison for four years.

“No, no no no, that can’t be right, you–you’re fucking with me, you’re trying to mess with my head!” Jim’s voice rose, even as the little alarm Kane had slowly installed in his head over the years warned him he was entering the danger zone. “They wouldn’t!”

“You don’t even know these people! They don’t care about you, they don’t even know you exist! It was a pathetic attempt to keep their dying bill afloat, and even that failed! Give up! You are mine. You’re not leaving.” Kane took off his coat. “The sooner you get over this nonsense, the sooner I can actually start bringing you to functions, because I think Aaze might–”

“You’re the one no one cares about!” Jim shot back, the tears falling now. “Why do you think they even put you on this stupid parliament? When each family only gets one rep and you’ve got a billion siblings and nieces and nephews who everyone respects way more than you? It’s ‘cause you’re a joke, and everyone knows it, and that’s what they think of this stupid bill. An intentional fucking slight, just like you said yest–”

Pain exploded in his gut as he went flying across the room, crashing into the opposite wall with a sickening THUD. He curled up around his midsection, a sound like helium escaping a balloon crawling from his throat.

Kane was standing over him before he could so much as blink, delivering another kick, and another, and another, over and over, one landing on his shoulder–no, no, not the joints, fuck, not the joints! Jim tried to scramble away, but everything hurt and his eyes were all starry, like Kane had flipped a switch disabling his body and his mind in one swift punch.

A shoe pressed into his back, pushing him hard against the ground. He tried to scream, but Kane grabbed him by the back of his shirt collar and pulled, digging into his already-abused neck, choking off his air.

“I knew letting you know any of this was going on was a mistake. You will never speak to me like that again. You are nothing. You are worthless. The only thing worth speaking of regarding you is that you are mine,” Kane seethed.

He released the shirt, allowing Jim to sputter and gasp, though his weight bore down harder. “Say it!”

“I’m n-nothing,” he coughed, each word straining his weeping throat, not even a thought of resisting crossing his mind, “I’m–I’m worthless. I’m yours.”

“That’s right. Don’t fucking forget it.” Kane left him sobbing there, slamming the door shut.

Hours later, Jim tore all his newspapers into shreds.

-

i plan to continue this as a companion fanfic series to desperate daybreak, so lmk if you want on the taglist!

K&J x MMSS taglist:

@barebarb

@cc1010foxy

@emcscared-whumps

@gt-daboss

@hurtpluscomfort

-

@jakersdaboss

@lolrpop

@melancholy-in-the-morning

@pigeonwhumps

@some-thrilling-heroics

-

@starfields08000

@t0rture-me

@thecyrulik

@thejinglingcourtjester

@vehan-tikkun-olam-and-stuff

-

@whuarri

@whump-cravings

@whump-my-heart-away

@whumpycries

@wolfeyedwitch

-

@whump-addict

@why-not-ask-me-a-better-question

everything taglist:

@lilac-and-lemon-whumps​

@t0rture-me

@whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump

@whumpshaped

@pigeonwhumps

-

@the-scrapegoat

@whumpycries

@lonesome--hunter

@whumpy-wyrms

@all-hail-pigeons

-

@wolfeyedwitch

@starfields08000

@jumpywhumpywriter

@scoundrelwithboba

@failgiao

-

@secretwhumplair

@sootheandsavage

[holmesandtheroman]

NOTICE: As more and more fanfic writers are using generative AI for their works (you uncreative dweebs), I hereby swear on everything I hold dear that I have not and will NEVER use generative AI in ANY of my written work. Everything I post will be organically and creatively my own.

[whumpsday]

Kane & Jim #58: A New Kind of Hunger

Chronological masterlist / Writing order masterlist

content: vampire whumpee, aftermath of starvation, disordered eating, vomit, consumption of vomit, begging, recovery, comfort, whumper turned whumpee, whumpee turned caretaker

-

Kane stood in the kitchen in the middle of the night as Jim slept upstairs, the light of the open fridge illuminating the room like shining golden treasure, packs of blood stacked neatly in one of the drawers. He’d never had access to this much blood at once. Well, of course he had, but that was before. Before he knew how much it was really worth.

His hunger was a different beast now, a new kind of hunger, always present in his head even when it wasn’t present in his body. Years of starvation had awakened something in him he couldn’t put back to sleep. And as he’d tried, tossing and turning restlessly in bed, the blood was all he could think about. Here, seeing it with his own eyes, he knew it was safe, and that was better, at least.

He took them all out. Twenty-seven left, three less than he’d come home with three days ago. It made perfect sense, and Bellamy was going to come restock him once they were gone. It was basic subtraction. It was normal.

So why did it make his stomach drop to see the number dwindle?

Kane took one out and bit down into the flexible plastic, sucking out the blood within. He could have an early breakfast if he wanted. He wasn’t waiting for Jim anymore. It was just unfeeling, uncaring plastic.

But the pit of dread inside him didn’t go away when he finished his meal, and it didn’t go away when he tore the packaging open and licked the inside clean so not a single drop remained. So he grabbed another. And another, and another, and another, and then his stomach ached with more than just dread, and he grabbed another and another still.

He kept going until twenty-seven torn-open, licked-clean pieces of packaging laid scattered on the floor beside him.

And then he threw up.

Kane had never vomited before, not once. It was a sign of illness, and vampires didn’t get ill, but his stupid fucking body decided to reject his precious gift anyway. He pursed his lips shut, slapped both hands over his mouth, pressing down with a force that threatened to crush his jaw, and swallowed down what blood and bile he could, the rest seeping between his fingers despite his best efforts.

He didn’t hesitate for a second before bending over and trying again.

-

Distant sobbing woke Jim from his slumber, though not as distant as usual. It always gave him a moment of panic before he remembered he’d freed Kane, who was well within his rights to have a 3 A.M. breakdown wherever in the damn house he pleased. Not like he couldn’t relate.

He groaned and dragged a hand up his face and through his hair, trying to wake himself up enough to be coherent before he went to see what that was all about.

“Kane?” he called blearily, heading downstairs. “You alright?”

“Don’t come in!” Kane shrieked.

Jim froze like Kane had total command over his body, his hand gripping the stair rail tight. Blood rushed in his ears, and he could feel his heart pounding hard in his chest, well-awake now.

He stood there and waited, the only thought that could form amid the terror being that it was night, Kane was unrestrained and stronger and faster, and there was nothing stopping him from doing anything he wanted.

“I’m sorry,” came Kane’s teary voice again, a few moments later. He wasn’t screaming this time. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean–I’m sorry. Please do whatever you want. I-I didn’t mean to, I wasn’t thinking, I’m so sorry, Jim. You’re safe, please don’t be scared.” He was silent for a bit, then added, “But, um, you… you might get scared if you come in the kitchen. I’m sorry.”

“Okay,” Jim strained out. He sat down on the steps, willing his racing heart to go back to normal. “Just–You alright? You’re not hurt or something?”

“I’m fine! And, um, I’ll clean up everything, so please don’t worry!” Kane stammered.

Well. That wasn’t promising.

Jim sucked in a breath through his teeth, and forced himself down the stairs and into the kitchen.

It was a total bloodbath. Kane looked like a rabid animal, on his hands and knees, eyes wide and frazzled, face streaked with tears and blood. Blood ran down his chin and shirt, he was fucking covered in it, but that was nothing compared to the floor, where a huge puddle of it laid.

Jim spun around with a gasp, hugging himself, eyes squeezed shut tight. “What happened?”

“I’m sorry!” Kane cried. “I’ll fix it! I’ll clean it up! I-I was in the middle of cleaning it up, I was going to have it ready by morning!”

“Whose–” Oh god, he couldn’t breathe, the whole room smelled like it. “Whose blood is that?”

“No one’s! It’s just my blood packs! From the fridge! I’m sorry! Please, I’m sorry!”

He couldn’t deal with this, not here, not with the stench. “Kane, come with me to the bathroom, we gotta get you cleaned up.”

Jim started up the stairs without turning around, but he could hear Kane’s little shuffle following after him, biting back a yes, sir. He grabbed a garbage bag from the closet on the way there, and only once he was in the bathroom did he dare to turn around.

Kane hiccupped with sobs behind him, hugging himself. “You’re going t-to throw my clothes away?” he whispered.

It was easier to breathe again, away from the bloodspill covering the kitchen, even when Kane was soaked in it. It was hard to be intimidated by him like this, crying his terrified eyes out. “No,” Jim assured softly. “Of course not. Just don’t wanna drip blood everywhere when we take ‘em to the washer, right? C’mon. You’re not… in trouble. We don’t do that here, remember? I’m helping you clean up.”

Kane nodded slowly and started disrobing, reluctantly placing his soiled shirt and pants in the bag. At least he hadn’t managed to get blood on his boxers. “The blood’s still good,” he said a little defensively.

“What? The puddle on the floor? Uh–”

Kane pointed to the bag. “That too! But also this. I can wring them out, I won’t make a mess, it’ll be different this time.”

“Oooookay.” Jim put down the bag. It was abundantly clear that him holding it was making Kane wildly uncomfortable. He grabbed one of Kane’s washcloths and wet it in the sink. “Let’s worry about that after. Can you tell me what happened? I promise I won’t be mad.”

Kane stared down at the floor. “I’m sorry. I drank all the blood. I’m sorry.”

A month’s worth? Jim didn’t say. Kane didn’t need to hear it. “Okay. We can work on that. No one’s hurt, everything’s chill.” He sat Kane down on the lid of the toilet and wiped at his chin. “How’d it get all over the floor?”

“Vomited,” Kane mumbled.

Jim pursed his lips. “Kane,” he said slowly, “You have to know that blood’s no good anymore.”

“Yes it is!” Kane jumped to his feet, eyes suddenly wild again. “I don’t mind, I’m not picky, I’ll eat anything! Please!”

“It’s puke, man.” Jim tried his best to say it gently, wiping it from Kane’s neck. “We can do better than that.”

Kane shook his head vehemently. “I don’t need to! I’ve had way worse! The hunters made me eat dirt, and cigarettes, and my own eyeball, and silver, and so much more. This is mostly blood! I shouldn’t waste it! Please, Jim, please, I can’t go back to starving, please don’t make me, please!” he sobbed.

“Shh, you’re not gonna starve, that’s not an option.” Don’t think about the eyeball thing. Just don’t. “I won’t let that happen. We can get you new blood. We can call Bellamy, and if that doesn’t work you can go get it yourself, and if that somehow doesn’t work I’d feed you. That’s three plans deep and, hey, ‘starving’ and ‘eating vomit’ are nowhere on the list. You don’t have to do this.”

Kane rested his head in his hands, elbows perched on his thighs, and cried. Jim put the washcloth down and rubbed his back, the scars of starvation still evident months later, every notch of his spine and the backs of his ribs all jutting out beneath his hand. No wonder he was that desperate.

“What’s wrong with me?” Kane wept.

“Nothing’s wrong with you,” Jim said confidently, rubbing slow circles into his back. “You’re just scared. Sometimes we do stupid shit when we’re scared. Your brain’s just doing its best to survive, y’know?”

He kept going until Kane picked his head up out of his hands. He’d gotten the worst spots of blood, there was still more on his chest and knees, but his clothes had taken most of it.

“Take a nice shower,” Jim instructed, picking the bag up again. “I’ll put these through the wash. When you’re done, clean up the kitchen. With a mop. And trust me when I say you won’t go hungry for it. Can you try to trust me?”

Kane hesitated, but nodded. “I trust you,” he said firmly. And then, less so: “I’m really sorry I scared you.”

“It’s alright. I get scared easy too.” Jim elbowed him lightly. “We’ve got this.”

Somehow, that drew a little smile out of Kane, his fangs still stained red.

-

taglist part 1:

@a-crumb-of-whump

@annablogsposts

@apokolyps

@badluck990

@barebarb

-

@cc1010foxy

@crying-wings

@crystalquartzwhump

@cupcakes-and-pain

@cyberneticfire

-

@darlingwhump

@deluxewhump

@emcscared-whumps

@extemporary-whump

@grays-word-stuffs

-

@iamtheshriekingguineapig

@icyheart-and-friends

@ilasknives

@inpainandsuffering

@interdimensional-chaos

-

@kira-the-whump-enthusiast

@lactose-intolerant-egg

@lilac-and-lemon-whumps

@littlespacecastle

@lost-in-labradorite-halls

-

@magziemakeswhatever

@melancholy-in-the-morning

@moons-cozy-corner

@morning-star-whump

@myhusbandsasemni

-

@mylifeisonthebookshelf

@neverthelass

@nicolepascaline

@nine-tailed-whump

@not-a-space-alien

-

@nyoomstar

@octopus-reactivated

@oddsconvert

@onlybadendings

@pigeonwhumps

-

@pumpkin-spice-whump

@quietly-by-myself

@quirkykayleetam

@ramadiiiisme

@redwhump

-

@roblingoblin285

@scp-1296

@secretwhumplair

[whumpsday]

taglist part 2:

@spookyceph

@termsnconditions-apply

@the-whumperfly-effect

@the-whumpers-grimm

@thecyrulik

-

@thegreatwhodini

@themarlo

@thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight

@t0rture-me

@vehan-tikkun-olam-and-stuff

-

@vickytokio

@whuarri

@whump-blog

@whump-cravings

@whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump

-

@whump-in-the-closet

@whump-me-all-night-long

@whump-my-heart-away

@whump-queen

@whumpedydump

-

@whumperfully

@whumpthisway

@whumpilicious

@sowhumpshaped

@whumpwillow

-

@whumpworld

@whumpy-writings

@whumpycries

@whumpzone

@wolfeyedwitch

-

@cepheusgalaxy

@sink-the-ship

@the-scrapegoat

@what-if-i-just-did

@hellodecisionparalysis

-

@thebirdsofgay

@seasaltandcopper

@desiresandvampires

@cinnamon-roll-whump

@oliversrarebooks

-

@lonesome--hunter

@kiichu

@anonfromcanada

@cinnamon-roll-whump

@we-write-as-one

-

@fabled-whump

@starfields08000

@fleur-a-whump

@whump-me-harder

@jos-has-too-many-hobbies

[whump-bunny]

I think it's because I'm a STEM major (chemistry to be exact), but I often can't take a lot of lab whump seriously bc I'm just like... that's improper lab procedure. What do you mean they just started cutting into him randomly? What do you MEAN they're testing his pain tolerance? What are they even observing here? What are the levels of this experiment? What is the control? What are the constants? How do they know which factors are effecting their results? They can't publish this shit. Whumper will be laughed out of peer review.

[whump-bunny]

It has come to my attention that not everyone knows proper lab procedure and experimental design! So here's how to write lab whump like a real scientist:

Step 1. Lab cleanliness and Safety

- In all labs, no matter what kind of science you're doing, it's important to keep a clean environment. (This isn't the same as a sterile environment, which you would need if you are doing any kind of major surgery.) Mostly, it's important to keep floors and walkways clear, to prevent tripping hazards.

- In most labs, latex gloves, pants, and close toed shoes are required. Long hair must be put up in a ponytail or bun. Sometimes goggles are necessary, but only when working with heat, pressure, or volatile chemicals. Eating and drinking in the lab is also expressly forbidden.

- In whump context, I would think that ensuring the ahem... test subject, is securely restrained would be of the upmost importance. You don't want your doctors getting bitten or scratched on the job.

Step 2. Experimental Design

- This is something I see a lot of writers misunderstand and it's a pet peeve of mine. Before you can start torturing your Whumpees, first you gotta ask: "What are the scientists trying to figure out?"

- For example, lets imagine a whumpee with very fast healing. The scientists studying them might want to figure out exactly how fast their healing works. So do they just start cutting Whumpee into pieces willy nilly? Nope. They gotta be systematic. Here's how I would design this experiment:

Independent Variable (The thing that you change): The amount of flesh removed from Whumpee.

Dependent Variable (The thing that you measure): The amount of time it takes for Whumpee to heal.

Levels (The different values of the independent variable): 5mm², 10mm², 100mm², etc.

Replicates (The amount of times you repeat each level): Should be at least 3

Control (The data you are comparing to): A normal human's healing speed.

Constants (Things that stay the same between trials): Same part of Whumpee's body, same time of day, same depth of injury, etc.

Cofactors (Other variables that could be potentially affecting your data): Stress levels of Whumpee, any drugs that might be in their system, conscious vs unconscious, hungry, etc.

- With all this in mind, you would run the experiment, with someone recording in a lab notebook real time. (Very important. Lab notebooks can be on actual paper or digital. Most labs use digital these days.)

- Once the experiment is done, you'd examine the data, see if there's any discrepancies or ways that the procedure could be improved, and run another experiment.

- Sometimes, questions answered from one experiment will give rise to even more questions. For example, let's use the healing Whumpee again. Let's say your scientist figured out Whumpee's baseline healing rate. But, they want to know if/how certain drugs affect Whumpee's healing speed. To figure this out, they'd conduct a new experiment, but this time, instead of changing how much flesh is removed, they'd make that a constant, and instead they would change how much of a drug they are injecting into whumpee.

- Experiments are meant to be repetetive and methodical, meaning that your Whumpee may very well have to go through the same thing over and over again, with very minor tweaks here and there.

- Overall, you don't need to worry too much about designing an entire experiment if you just want to write simple lab whump. But, if your whumpers are meant to be official and experienced scientists, then it might be worth it to go the extra mile and show how their scientific brains are working. (And personally, I will always find methodical lab whump more interesting than aimless torture.)

I hope this helped and it wasn't too long. If y'all have any more questions on lab whump and science, feel free to send me an ask. Happy Whumping!

And thank you to @detectingeagle310 for asking me to elaborate lol

[secretwhumplair]

Epilogue: Love and Grace

973 words | Aster and the midnight emperor

Content | Anxiety, classism, ex-whumper x ex-whumpee (both ways lol), mentioned/implied: consensual (!!) sex & pain play, nightmares, past torture, animal death

Notes | Look at them. So definitely healthy and normal.

I hope you enjoyed, thanks for coming along everyone! End-of-series reminder I have a ko-fi if you feel inclined to tip <3 Also I'll reblog with some little headcanons that grew too long for the tags lol.

Taglist | @maracujatangerine @scoundrelwithboba @mushiboble @lolrpop @whumpsday @whumpyreader @anonintrovert @whumpycries

The bustling market still sparked a faint anxiety in Aster’s gut. But the ongoing paranoia that he’d picked up during their months-long escape was only a minor one of the reasons they still mostly camped out in the woods, even though they’d long reached safety.

The main one was Grace, and just looking back at them brought a smile back to his face. They were so full of joy these days. They spent most of their time stark naked, flowing from one form into the next; Aster had realized belatedly how much they were still holding back, keeping to mostly humanoid forms, when he had been their pet. With every day in freedom, they had grown bolder, and now Aster was used to waking next to anything midnight blue. Today, six clawed paws had been stuck adorably into the air where they were lying on their back, longer than he was tall, purrs pouring forth from their throat as soon as he kissed their lion-like face awake. They hadn’t gotten up for a while.

For their occasional trips into town, Grace had gleefully adopted the loose, flowing fashion of their host country, the draped folds concealing whatever was going on with their body beneath. Their dark skin stood out less here, too, no one staring at them long enough to be sure of the blue tone as inhuman here as anywhere; and if Aster led them by the hand, as he was doing now, most seemed to assume their silver eyes were the symptom of some ailment.

Aster’s chestnut locks actually drew more attention, but he had taken to wearing a headscarf anyway, to protect his scalp and nape from yet another sunburn.

»Good day, friend! What can I treat you with today?«

A part of Aster still bristled at the familiarity. This was a peasant; she had no business talking to him like that. But after many a slammed door and refused service, he had eventually gritted his teeth and started mimicking the behaviour of the common folk around him. Grace was still worse at it, somehow. He didn’t know why that surprised him, they had been emperor, after all; maybe he had just made the silly assumption that a shapeshifter should have an easier time adapting their mannerisms as well.

Or maybe he just looked at them with too much love to expect them being bad at anything.

Now they just stood behind him, aloof as ever, their happiness hidden to all but him, while he smiled back at the baker. It became more natural every day.

»Two loaves, please.« He held out four of the copper pieces they’d just made at the furrier’s; the raw skins of their prey were their only source of income.

»Just rabbits this week, then?« The baker smiled as she stacked two of the morning’s loaves on top of each other and handed them over.

»Just rabbits. Maybe next time,« he added with a covetous look at the honeyed pastries off to the side he had been known to treat himself to when they were affluent.

»Good luck!«

Their bags filled with fresh supplies, they made their way back to their little camp, crossing the town’s singuler bridge that Aster hid out under on the days he couldn’t stand to look at Grace. Listening to folk chat about their trivial business as they crossed over his head helped pull him out of dark memories. Grace, on the days they couldn’t look at him, would vanish into the wilderness, creature that they were.

They always returned to one another. Who else could they even hope to make understand?

He squeezed their hand, and they sank little clawtips into his, drawing a grin to his lips he knew without looking back matched theirs.

At camp, he went to scatter some of the millet they’d just bought, to keep the quails close that puttered around the area, their little eggs a welcome addition to their all-too-simple meals. Grace didn’t mind — or at least they didn’t tell — but Aster sometimes missed the luxurious spices and rich dishes of the palace kitchen.

It was a price worth paying, though, just for being with Grace every day, both of them free.

All wasn't perfect. Aster still woke from nightmares - always the star, after everything that had happened. Sometimes, Grace froze into all spines, or worse, all human, and it was Aster's turn to hold them, reassure them he loved them most the way they were, all fluid, no matter their shape. But most days were good, better than he had ever known they could be.

This afternoon, they went to bathe in their little section of the river, upstream from all of the town's business, the undergrowth hiding them from any adventurous passers-by for much longer than it'd take them to hear them coming.

Grace was serpentine, like they liked to be in the water, looping around him.

»You did good in town, love.«

They had taken to always calling him that, and he couldn't get enough of it. He splashed them, a little embarrassed by how much he enjoyed their silly little praises; they had caught on to it all too quickly. »It’s not that hard.«

»Kch. Liar.« Their tail smacked him on the ass, its force broken by the water. They circled around him, and sudden delicate fingers traced the long, fine scratches they had drawn down his back the night before with sharp claws. They never once apologized, not for anything. But they cared, now.

»Are you alright, love?«

Even the remaining sting brought a smile to his face. He turned to face them, and dragged them into his arms. They startled, their eyes soft, but then melded against the shape of his body, wrapping a half dozen arms or more around him. »I could not be better.«

[secretwhumplair]

Choice

2,008 words | Aster and the midnight emperor

Content | Royal whump, monster whumpee, captivity, magical stress position, implied: abuse

Notes | Poor, famously irresponsible Aster faces up against an important decision.

This has one of my favourite sentence that I've written for this series, if not ever. It's the last proper episode, just the epilogue to come :D

Taglist | @maracujatangerine @scoundrelwithboba @mushiboble @lolrpop @whumpsday @whumpyreader @anonintrovert @whumpycries

Aster clutched the key in his hand so tightly it hurt.

This was madness. His siblings would exile him if they knew, and rightly so. What under the sun was he thinking?

It was such a small thing, concealed fully in his palm, and it weighed the world.

The creature was curled up on the bed when he entered the bedroom. They looked up immediately — obligingly — when they heard him, and sat up when they saw him. »What’s wrong?«

There was a trace of fear in their voice. They must have noticed his tension, noticed, he realized with a moment’s delay, his balled fist.

He let the key slip forward in between his fingertips.

They immediately knew what it was, there could be no doubt about it. Their widened eyes flowed from the key to his face and back, disbelief and hope splashing across their expression.

He stopped, safely out of their reach. For a moment he expected them to pounce him like an animal. But of course they didn’t. He could call the guards faster than they could hope to achieve anything.

Even if he would be in so much trouble.

»What are you doing?« Their voice was quiet, with a forced calm, as if they were trying not to frighten a flighty animal.

Well, they knew he was a coward.

»You said we could run away together.« The words just tumbled out of his mouth, like they always did. They came out petulantly, as if the creature were going back on their promise.

Before they had even had the chance to.

This was madness.

»We can.« There was a faint crack in the creature’s carefully controlled voice. »We can, I swear we can. Aster, you’re incredible — I didn’t think you’d-«

He stood frozen in place, clinging on to the key as if his life depended on it.

»Do you promise you won’t, won’t hurt me?« His voice sounded pathetic. They’d lie; of course they’d lie.

They fervently shook their head. »No, I — I just-« They choked on their lies, just like he’d expected. He’d never felt more helpless. They swallowed, turned away, then looked him straight in the eye again, grim determination mixing into the obvious desperation on their face. »I just want you to look at me like that. Like you do. I won’t hurt you. Unless you want me to,« they added in a whisper.

Their toothmarks on his body had long since faded, and he missed them. How would they know he missed them?

He missed them.

»Please. Please, Aster.«

They sounded so desperate; their nails were digging into their thighs where they sat, still making no attempt at force.

»I can’t do this.« He stepped back, a sudden sob catching in his throat. »You, you’ll hurt me, you’ll do whatever you want with me.«

»I won’t. I won’t. What I want is to be with the only damn person who ever cared about me. Please-«

»Even if you just leave me behind, I'll be a traitor-«

»I won't,« they promised. »I won't — we'll escape together and never bother with any of this again, just like we said… Please, Aster. Please. I'm in so much pain.«

»So you'll say anything to make it stop,« he whispered, only now realizing the colossal flaw in his thinking. Of course they would. He would too, probably. Nothing they said meant anything.

They would laugh at him, and break him into little bloody pieces for what he'd done, and then fly merrily into freedom. They would vanish into the night, secure in the knowledge he would meet his punishment at the hands of his own family. They would take him with them alright, and he'd be their slave-pet for the rest of his life with no chance to fight or escape the powerful shapeshifter he'd foolishly set free — or just as long as he was pretty enough for them until he was thrown to the wayside without a thing to his name and with nowhere to return to he wasn't a traitor.

»Please,« they breathed. »Please. Please, Aster.«

Their eyes were on his face, their hands unsteady in their lap, but their whole body was aimed at the key in his hand.

He couldn't. He couldn't do this. They must know he was too much of a coward to ever pull this off; he should have known, too. He had to return the key, or better yet, simply drop it somewhere it couldn't be traced back to him, watch some poor servant punished for the theft, return the, the creature to the dungeons and never think of them again, forget the way their silver eyes turned liquid when he said something that made them soft, forget how they had stilled at the notion that he, that anyone could adore them the way they were, forget the warmth of their multiplied embrace, their sharp-toothed smile and the way they broke like a wave when they came, forget forget forget-

He couldn't. There was no way out that was safe and good.

He leant in and kissed them, kissed them with all he had and it wasn't enough, it couldn't be enough, not like this. He understood. He thought he might be crying.

»Aster, please,« they muttered into his mouth. »I'm in pain.«

They sounded like they might be crying, too. He wasn't sure they had tears, still.

He leant past their face — he couldn't look at them. He unlocked the collar.

For a moment, all there was was their breath — then, they spilled. Limbs splashing forth from a body that deformed and reformed across the whole bed, skin rippling in a myriad patterns at once-

It was over as fast as it began, and he was locked in too many arms, for the first time in months terrified of them. He could still feel them shift around him, more measured now. Normal.

Then, they let him go to stare at him, wide-eyed.

»You did it.« There was the chuckle he had dreaded. His heart clenched in his chest. »You actually did it. For me?«

»Please,« he whispered. He had been so, so stupid-

Hands gently cupped his face. More hugged him, again, as they guided him to look them in the face. Their eyes were still wide, and their face was so, so soft…

They leant in and kissed him.

They'd never done it before, not on the mouth. He had kissed them when he had the chance.

He had the chance now, and he took it.

It was many moments before they pulled back from him. There is was, that softness in their eyes. His heart raced.

»We need to go.«

»You’re taking me with you?« He had meant it said as a statement, a reaffirmation of what they had already agreed upon.

The softness in their eyes crystallized into — worry. »Do you really want that?«

»Yes! Yes — I can't stay.« He wanted to, too. Stars above, he was so stupid — one kiss and all his concerns forgotten. But his heart fluttered so lightly in his chest. »I’ve packed.«

They gaped, as if taken aback by the notion he had put any thought into this. It was fair, he supposed; he was not known for his wisdom. But he had some food and his hunting bow for when it ran out; some clothes; a dozen odds and ends he thought might be useful. Money, of course, though how far the coin of his home would help them was a different question.

They followed him into the drawing room, took a look at the crammed bag and the bow on top of it.

A slight smile crossed their face. »I can hunt for us.«

»We can hunt together,« Aster offered. A small part of him felt like he was talking back. He wanted to hug them, wanted to reassure himself that all was well with them, together. He wasn’t going to waste time on it. He was going to be sensible.

»I think you should grab the bag. In front of you, as close to center as you can. And I’ll hold you.« They opened one of the tall windows into the darkness. The castle sat on a steep, rocky hill, and the ground dropped off beneath the wall for another many dozen foot. A flurry of tall spines and excited skin flaps ran down their body before they turned, and in turning, spread a large pair of wings.

He could only stare for a moment. He had seen them flying once before — that horrible day on the battlefield. His breath caught in his throat with the terror and beauty of their form.

They looked at him, and he suddenly realized there was a sadness in their face-

»No, no — you’re beautiful.«

They broke into a desperate, sharp-toothed smile. »Come to me.«

He strapped the bag to himself — it felt clunky in front of him, but surely they had put thought into this? — grabbed his bow, and stepped up to him.

»Turn around.«

Six arms wrapped around him from behind, holding him tightly to their body. He’d never felt so secure-

until they fell, backwards, right out of the window.

His scream was caught in another hand — though truly, he wasn’t sure it was a hand — before, some confusing and terrifying moments later, they had turned over, their wings spread wide above him, and with powerful flaps, drew them up and away until the castle’s lights vanished like a dream.

The land below them was dark. There was only one way to go — south, away from where the Emperor had come from, where no one would recognize them if only they went far enough. Aster gulped in cold night air. The creature’s arms were still holding him, and it was such a strange comfort even here, so far above where humans were ever supposed to go.

They landed in some small forest clearing after — well, when Aster looked up, the stars had barely moved. His hands were cold but his heart was colder at the realization.

»Why are we stopping?«

»That's as far as I can fly us.« They were panting as they shifted into their horse — or something very like a horse; it was obvious they couldn't be bothered with the details. It was strange to hear a somewhat-human voice emerge from the beast, but they clearly still had lips and tongue. »Get on.«

»That's… going to be less tiring than just flying?«

They laughed. »You have no idea.«

He sorted out the luggage on their back, then climbed on himself, a strange feeling in his throat, half laughter, half terror.

Then he fell forward as if drawn by some invisible force, and hugged them around the neck.

They turned their head in a way no horse should be able to, their silver eyes wide.

»You did it,« he whispered, tears gathering in his eyes. »You really-»

»We,« they corrected softly, then a ripple of spines ran down their neck, stopping, though, right before his arms. »Sit up. We must keep going.«

»Can I have a little mane or something? To hold on to?« He was a good rider… but this was no horse.

A plume of or something sprouted right at the base of their neck. The moment he grabbed a hold of it, they gave a small buck.

Aster couldn't help but join their chuckle.

»Alright. Keep your heels to yourself.«

»I love you.« The words simply stumbled out of his mouth.

They turned their head once more, struck still, again, like they always were when he revealed too much of his heart.

»You don't have to say anything.« It was a good thing it was dark, although really, he couldn't be sure they didn't see the blush creep up his face anyway. What couldn't they do?

He did know it was too much to ask anyone to share in his stupid loose lips.

They stared at him for a moment longer, then turned and took off into the night, into their new life — together.

[secretsmutcorner]

Aster's

1,620 words | Aster and the midnight emperor

Content | Royal whump, monster whumpee, captivity, magical stress position, sleep deprivation, implied: non-con & dub-con sex, beatings, mention of: intersexism

Notes | How are things going with our little role reversal? Is Aster enjoying himself yet?

Taglist | @maracujatangerine @scoundrelwithboba @mushiboble @lolrpop @whumpsday @whumpyreader @anonintrovert @whumpycries

Stars, he was being so stupid.

Aster had never been good at arguing. When he ran into trouble, he just sulked until it went away. To now put forward an entire case with the queen and his siblings that he should be the one to hold the — the creature — it was a complete waste of energy he wouldn’t have bothered with before.

Maybe he had changed, like he told Luna when she called into question whether he was responsible enough to keep such a dangerous prisoner. Sol backed down when Aster put forward the point that he’d spent months getting humiliated and raped by them every day and should get to take his full revenge; guilt gnawed at him, but he hadn’t been asked whether he enjoyed it and really, it would have been rude to.

The queen didn’t care too much, after all, so long as Aster swore to her the creature would be kept secure. She held the key to their collar, anyway.

And suddenly, he was free to retrieve them.

He did consider doing it himself, but the dungeons were creepy, and now there was no real reason to go back down. He had a guard fetch them while he was at breakfast. A part of him looked forward to the look on their face when he would meet them in his rooms with glee.

He’d given the guard the leash they had used for him.

And now that he returned to his apartment, that leash was tied to the writing desk.

They knelt on the floor, folded in on themself. In the light of day, they looked worse. Their bruises — there must be so many bruises — remained invisible, but there were bumps and cuts and welts, now sharply highlighted.

Scratches surrounded their collar. Their hands were still now, tied tightly behind their back, but they must, he realized, have tried to get it off in a blind panic. Possibly more than once.

They looked up when they heard the door, and audibly gasped when they saw him. It was weirdly cute. He’d made sure they wouldn’t know who had sent for them, whose room they were being taken to, and being unfamiliar with the castle, they had no way of knowing.

They strightened on their knees. »Your Highness.«

It was disgusting how hopeful they sounded. Did he have any reason to treat them well?

But then, he had been better in their care than before. Before, in the situation they engineered for that very purpose. Like the way he hadn’t done now.

This was so confusing. And it was made more confusing by the fact that now they were here, in his chambers, at his mercy.

Their eyes flickered up at his face, then back to the floor deferentially. It didn’t look good on them; that shouldn’t be his concern.

They tensed when he drew his knife.

Good.

When he bent over them, they trembled under his touch, shrinking back down. He cut the rope tying their wrists. The skin underneath was burned.

They heaved a breath. Their arms slowly fell forward again, locked in their position for too long to be comfortable doing it.

They properly squealed when he grabbed one and pulled it in front, flinched away from him when he let go.

I’m sorry. He barely managed not to say it. He wasn’t sure what he’d done that for.

He fed them the breakfast scraps he’d brought back with him. It was wickedly satisfying, until something sparked inside him, hot and painful, at their too-fervent »Thank you, your Highness.«

He’d planned to parade them around, like they had for him, but now he had them in front of him, he couldn’t stand the thought of everyone staring at them. Seeing them like this.

So he just left them there.

* »You can’t keep saying that.« He sat back on the creature’s thighs.

They looked up at him, furrowing their hairless brow.

»You can’t keep saying it’s okay.« He dismounted, letting himself sink into the sheets of his bed; a part of him still assumed it must be theirs, since they were sharing it.

They accepted everything. Sure, they whimpered in pain, sometimes, when Aster took them, but when he hesitated, they’d always reassure him.

They turned to look at him. »I’d do the same thing in your position.«

»Oh, you’ve done far worse.« He spat the words out as venomously as he could, but he knew any threats he could muster had long lost credibility. He was being pathetic.

Maybe his siblings had been right.

»I know.« Their gaze drifted to the ceiling.

»You think you deserve this?«

»I think it’s fair.« A chuckle broke from their throat, a mangled and painful thing. »And nothing you could do could make this worse. Sometimes it’s… a welcome distraction, you know. Some fresh sensation to take my mind off…« They shivered, then gestured at their body. »You don’t have to believe me.«

He briefly wondered how much pain he’d have to be in to call being raped a welcome distraction. Though frankly, probably not much, not if it was them; he’d enjoyed them fucking him more often than not. Was it even rape, when they encouraged him every time? It didn’t matter — it was painful to them, he knew that.

He couldn’t let the thought fester.

His eyes wandered over the pretty body they had indicated. Their injuries were now mostly healed up, as far as he could tell. »Why a woman?«

They glanced up at him, then down at themself. »I had to choose one or the other. They wouldn’t — I was scared they wouldn’t think I was looking human enough if I didn’t.«

Their voice crackled away like a dying fire. But they looked back at him, and their eyes rested on him so thoughtfully he almost expected them to say something else.

It didn’t make sense. He wasn’t a woman. Why would they be looking at him?

»Do you like it? This shape.«

»Every shape is bad if I’m stuck in it.« Quieter, they added, »Do you like it?«

He chuckled uneasily, looked away. »Does it matter?«

They didn’t meet his eyes, either, when he looked at them again. »I suppose not. You’re stuck with it, too.«

It was true. He would have much preferred their flowing, changing state. »And I’m still captive, too. Sort of. Politics.« It was a silly thing to say. Their situations weren’t comparable, he wasn’t that stupid. But it was true, too.

»We could run away together. Just imagine.« A shadow of their old grin crossed their face; they must know they couldn't be serious. »I'd hold you tight and fly us out of here, and we'd never look back, never have to think about politics or power or any of it again.«

»Fly?«

They nodded, closing their eyes. He wished he'd see more of them — always pinched in pain, these days — then realized he could order them to look at him. Then didn't.

In truth, he wanted them to be in less pain. He wanted them back the way they were. Not badly enough to consider setting them loose, of course, even if that had ever been an option — he didn't want to go back to how everything was, he wasn't crazy. A little pain was less than they deserved. Had their roles been reversed — but he needn't speculate.

He watched them, eyes closed, breath shallow. From time to time, a tremble overcame them, as if their body was trying to escape itself. Maybe it was.

Revenge was what he wanted. It was proper for a wronged prince. Of course they'd want him to leave that behind.

»But that's not what's going to happen.«

* »Could you get some sleep last night?« He didn't know why he bothered asking. It needn't be his concern.

They'd held him so gently when he had nightmares.

They blearily opened their eyes, so slowly it was answer enough. They hardly slept properly anymore, their head drooping at every hour of the day when it became too much for their body, until the pain pulled them out of it again. If he had ever doubted their words about their suffering, there was no way they were faking this. He pitied them.

Suddenly, their chest heaved with a sob, then more. It shocked him more than anything. He’d never seen them cry. He’d never thought the powerful, confident Emperor even could cry.

Their eyes were dry, so maybe that was true, for some definition of crying.

»I can't live like this. It hurts so much, all the time.«

»I know.« There was nothing more useful he could say. He knew how it was, being in pain. Maybe not this constantly, but still.

What would he have wanted?

He pulled them into his arms. They fell into him like rain, their hands clinging on to him in turn. The sobs didn’t cease, not for a long time.

He should go to breakfast. He held them tighter, against his intuition. He couldn’t think of many things he’d liked less than being held this tightly, by them, when he was hurt. But then, his pain came from bodily injuries that would only be aggravated that way; maybe theirs was different. And he wasn’t the one responsible for their pain. He wasn’t.

Slowly, their sobs faded into more even breaths, the grip of their hands loosened.

He still held them. He didn’t know what else to do.

»Does this even make a difference?«

Their hands clenched tighter at that, as if they were afraid he’d abandon them then and there.

»More than you can imagine.«

He held them that night, too. Maybe they slept. He wasn’t sure.