#whump recovery Tumblr posts

  • jordanstrophe
    26.10.2021 - 58 minutes ago

    War of Royalty, Flustered Healing

    (bit of a mini chapter, but he deserves all the coddling)

    [Masterlist] CW: medieval whump, fever, painful recovery, medical whump, bandages, stripping, blood, over-protective caretaker

    Another flash of pain jolted the boy awake. He clenched an arm over his stomach, biting down on his sleeve while quivering. He couldn’t tell where he was, the room was dark and his breathing kept getting quicker and panicked with each breath.- 

    ‘Hey.’ A voice whispered. He flinched when a hand nudged into his, replacing his desperate grasp of the sheets. 

    “The pain keeping you awake? I can get the physician-”

    “No! N-no it’s fine... I’m fine.” Eden stuffed his face into the pillow to muffle a groan. The king lit a candle by the desk and sat by his side, lifting him up and propped his back against a wall of pillows. “Up we go, let me see how it’s doing.” He slowly took the shirt and slid it up his chest. Eden immediately tensed and squeezed his eyes shut, turning his head away. 

    Some blood had seeped through his bandages into a dark faded red blotch. “It needs to be changed already... Just lay still.” He waited for Eden’s panic to calm before working to untie the bandages. 

    “Why are you doing this?” Eden whispered, his face burning with a fever and eyes drifting half open. The king hesitated, holding two strips of bloody bandages to each side. 

    “It’s just- ...” He stopped when the last strip fell away, his eyes darting down to the wound on Eden’s chest. Bloody and horrific. 

    It’s because this is my fault. 

    Because you were precious to me.

    “Because I know tonight’s been rough on you. Don’t think I haven’t noticed your tossing and turning over here, you’re in pain.” He wrapped a fresh bandage around his shoulder before tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear.

    “I-.. I can’t sleep. I can’t think- my skin keeps crawling with their hands and I hear voices. I was afraid that... you might not have wanted me after what Tarion did-"

    “What!?“ Arvend snapped, instantly cupping the boy’s cheeks. “Now young man, you listen to me! There’s nothing that could make me abandon you, you hear? Nothing on this earth will ever take you from me again!”-

     -His eyes darted to the ten knight guarding the door awkwardly pretending not to be eavesdropping, he then turned back to the shaken-up boy clutched in his arms with wide eyes. 

    “Y-y-yes your majesty!” Eden cried out. Arvend immediately loosened his grip and hung his head, apologetically putting a hand on Eden’s forehead. “I- I’m sorry... I haven’t slept much either.” He sighed, his hand moving down until it was just at the bridge of his nose. Eden didn’t move, he hardly breathed as he just closed his eyes. “You’re fever is getting worse... You need to sleep.” Arvend rasped, tucking an arm underneath him as Eden collapsed his head into his shoulder. 

    “Everything’s going to be alright.” He whispered, stroking his thumb back and forth on his cheekbone as he felt him slowly relax. “I’m sure you have other things to do.” Eden muffled into his chest. “Always for a king, but none more important than this.” He smiled. 

    “Now close your eyes.” 

    Eden did what he was told. He had been distracted from the pain and could no longer hear the twisted cruel voices or the cold plaguing touch. He only felt the warmth of the blankets and the King’s soft robes curling around him. 

    ʕっ• ᴥ • ʔっ Thank you for reading!~ @tears-and-lilies  @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @starnight-whump  @bumpthumpwhump @whumpcreations @myst-in-the-mirror @heathenville @grizzlie70 @castielamigos-whump-side-blog  @thegreathowdini @kim-poce @digitalart-dwa @princessofonward @andwhump @sunflower1000 @kim-poce  @lonesome--hunter   @cupcakes-and-pain @as-a-matter-of-whump  @nicolepascaline @neverthelass  @octopus-reactivated @jadeocean46910

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  • ashintheairlikesnow
    26.10.2021 - 1 hour ago
    #erase to control #krista: an echo #kauri's poor life choices #referenced but still #self-loathing#trauma recovery#recovery whump#bbu #box boy universe #whump#microfiction
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  • jordanstrophe
    26.10.2021 - 8 hours ago

    Whumpee’s fever makes them delirious to the point they can’t recognize caretaker’s face. They jump every time the door opens, clutching the blankets and breathing rapidly. Caretaker starts entering talking in a calm, lulling tone when they come to check on them. They sit at their bedside checking their temperature and bringing a cold glass to their lips as they take the tiniest struggling little sips.  

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  • patheticlittleguy
    25.10.2021 - 21 hours ago

    caretaker who takes in a catboy whumpee who is so scarred and bloody & in need of a trim and a bath that it looks like a big animal but over the course of the first few days of whumpee’s stay, caretaker washes away the layers of dirt and dried blood, chops off the matted fur, applies bandages, and calms whumpee gradually revealing just how human whumpee is. the difference is so stark that caretaker is almost unsurprised to hear whumpee finally speak

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  • spicywhumper
    25.10.2021 - 1 day ago

    The hardest part of writing slowburn romance is waiting ages to write smut.

    #not whump #I just want them to fuck already #but the story is more about recovery than anything so... #Scarlet x Caroline
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  • deiliamedlini
    25.10.2021 - 1 day ago

    Whumptober 2021- The Darkness I Know

    Chapter 16

    On A Need to Know Basis

     recovery | scars | aftermath

    Fic Summary: After the world as she knew it was destroyed by the corruption of Malice, Zelda allies herself with her saviors from captivity: a disgruntled former governor, an alert paramedic, a cocky pilot, an excessively overt optimist, and a blind strategist. While the corrupted, malice-filled Yiga Clan looks for revenge on them, Zelda has to learn how important it is to find family in others... and how much more dangerous the stakes become if she fails to protect them.

    *Note: It doesn’t look like this will finish on time! Oops! It’ll still be finished, but it may be in November! I’m going to try to do a few shorter chapters, like the next two where I don’t love the prompt, but I still don’t think I’ll catch up on time! Anyway, enjoy this long, fluffy, well-deserved rest chapter!*

    Previous/ Chapter Index/ Next


    Zelda moaned as she rolled over, letting out a pained noise before her body gave out and she fell onto her back again, immobile and in pain.

    “Stop, stop! You’re sore!”

    She opened her eyes to see Mipha sitting beside her, holding her hands out to stop Zelda from getting up. When Zelda laid back, she realized her head was on a pillow, and she was under a warn blanket.

    “Where are we?”

    “An abandoned home. We had to get you somewhere.”


    “He’s alright. Still some bruising, but he’s up and about.”

    Still some bruising. Her mind was working a little slower, but she still picked up on that. “How long has it been?”

    “Only a few days.”

    Sitting up straight, Zelda hissed in pain, but it was a pain that she was easily able to ignore. “Days?”

    “Your arm was terribly infected. You had a horrible fever that only broke yesterday. You’ve barely been taking in liquids. Link did well getting the Malice out, but he didn’t do a perfect job. There was still quite a bit, and much of it was already inside your system. He and his knife also did some damage, but the damage saved your life. So yes, you’ve been in and out of consciousness for days.”

    Again, Zelda moaned, but she slid her legs off the bed and clutched her arm. “I need to get up.”

    “You need to rest.”

    Mipha held a hand out, a pretense of stopping Zelda, but Zelda ignored it and stood anyway, wobbly and shakily unable to hold her footing as her burning limbs ached with a stiffness that usually came after intense exercise for her.

    She stumbled into the doorframe, holding herself up with difficulty. “It’s my arm. Why can’t I walk?”

    Mipha was hovering immediately behind her, ready to catch her. “Malice spreads. Your infection spread. The body doesn’t always just section itself off. People have had heart attacks from toe infections. It’s just how it works.”

    Zelda made an annoyed sound, forced to accept that explanation. “Well, where’s Link? I need to thank him for all he did.”

    Mipha hummed innocently, attempting to look disinterested, making Zelda turn. When Mipha looked back, she shrugged. “He and Revali are out getting a few things.”


    “They’re fine. Urbosa went with them, but I believe she’s staying a bit further back to keep an eye out.” Mipha grabbed Zelda’s good arm and lightly tugged her backwards. “Now, please, get back into bed. You need rest still.”

    Zelda obliged, but only because she was struggling to keep standing. When she was back nder the blankets, Mipha brought her a cup of soup. But when Zelda’s eyes grew heavy far too quickly, she shot Mipha a dirty look, and the girl’s smug expression said that she’d won, even as Zelda drifted into a peaceful rest.

    She opened her eyes again to the sound of heavy steps and loud banging. Managing to turn her head through her haze, she saw her door swing open. It didn’t surprise her to find herself smiling when she realized it was Link walking in. He had a long staff in his hand, and a bunch of flowers in another. He held the staff out, as he had before losing his, and made her way toward Zelda’s bed, feeling around for her end table before dropping the flowers there.

    She took a moment to just watch him. He moved well. There was no clear sign of a new injury, but she did see bruises all along his jaw that were older, likely from his beating. When she’d met him, she didn’t think it would be possible to feel so strongly for a stranger, but her heart hurt for him as she remembered every second of her straining against the chains, a knife in her hand ready to go, just watching as Link was assaulted relentlessly. And when he’d been brought back in, barely breathing, barely moving, she’d been able to do nothing again; all she’d done was stroke his hair in an attempt to let him know she was there.

    “Link,” she said, unable to keep herself quiet any longer.

    His lips twitched up and he set the staff down so he could kneel by the bed, his hand skimming the blankets, looking for something. “Zelda?”

    She grabbed his hand and squeezed it before bringing it up to rest on her cheek. “Yeah. I’m up.”

    Thumb immediately running along her skin, Link let out a heavy breath. “Thank the Goddess. You’ve barely moved in days. I thought… that I did something.”

    “Mipha said that what you did absolutely saved me. I wanted to thank you.”

    Link nodded, his expression softening. “You don’t need to.”

    Zelda gave his hand a little pull, and he cocked his head. She did it again, a little harder, and he sat on the bed with her. “Link.” She pulled again, and he chuckled before running his hand along the mattress behind her just before rolling himself over, letting out a relaxed moan of perfect contentment when his head hit the pillow beside her.

    She rolled to face him, wincing slightly when she ended up on her arm, but otherwise scooting closer to Link, letting his arm drape across her almost instinctually.

    “Did you mean it?” she asked absently. She heard him make a confused noise, so she sighed and shrugged. “Was that a last-act kind of kiss, back at the Yiga’s?” She let out another deep breath. “I mean, I know that’s not a priority right now, but I don’t want to walk on eggshells around it. If that’s all it was, that’s totally fine.”

    “No. I meant it. I just…” he rested his chin against her, “I don’t want to burden you. I’ve been alone—in a personal sense—for, Goddess, years now. Most of it’s been fine, but there have been times where it’s sucked.”

    “Are you telling me you’re clingy? Because you’re literally clinging to me right now and I’m fine with that.”

    He chuckled and nuzzled his face closer to her. “I don’t want to ruin what we’ve got. That’s all.”

    “You don’t want to ruin our casually flirtatious friendship because you’ve been single for years? Link, that’s silly. I’ve been single for years too. It’s the apocalypse. I’m not out on a dating app every weekend.” She sighed and grabbed her arm, running her hand over the healing wound. “We’re probably going to die soon. I might, anyway, if not all of us, since the Yiga seem intent on coming for us all. Mipha said the Malice is still in me, and I can feel it. There’s this… this burn. It’s not anywhere specific, but it still hurts. And I would prefer to spend the end with someone I care about.”

    Link sat up, vaguely looking in her direction. “You’re not going to die. The Yiga all have Malice in them, and they’re alive.”

    “I didn’t do whatever ritual they wanted me to. I don’t know if it’s enough.” She chuckled darkly. “You know, when the Malice first came and I hid in my car, I thought I was going to die. But after that, I haven’t had too many moments where I really believed it for a prolonged time. Maybe while I was crushed under a moblin claw, yeah, I felt it. But afterwards, I was fine. Now? Now I don’t see a future. Dorian took that from me.”

    “He didn’t. You’re not dead. I let my parents die from the Malice. I’m not going to let you die too, so get over it.”

    “How are you doing?” Zelda asked suddenly, remembering just how fast everything has moved. “We barely had time to process Kakariko.”

    “I did the day we got here. Do you know that crying with a cracked rib hurts more than you’d think?” He laughed, like it was the only thing he could do anymore, all other reactions taken from him by overuse.

    Zelda smiled sadly for him, running a hand through his messy hair. “I’m sorry.”

    “I’ll manage. We stay alive, and then we grieve. We’ll keep each other alive. All of us.”

    Sitting up, Zelda ran her hand down his neck, her thumb tracing a long red line that had been hidden by his hair, and disappeared below his shirt. “What happened? This is recent.”

    Link shuddered before chuckling. “Revali took me out.”

    “On a date?”

    That got him to laugh genuinely, his chest rumbling, and the bed shaking. “Oh, yes. Of course. No, he took me outside, helped me find a new suitable staff replacement for now. He got you something too. There were a few keese that we disturbed, that’s all.”

    “He got me a present?”

    “He did.”

    “Are you lying? Not you?”

    “I may have mentioned something, but it was all him from there. He does like you, you know.”

    Zelda glanced at the door, her eyes brushing over the long, sturdy branch that Link had rested against the wall before turning back to him. “Does he like me more than you?”

    Link sucked his lips in and shook his head as red started creeping up his neck. “Really?”

    She pushed her hair back and fought a laugh back. “I’ll admit, I wish you could see when I wink at you. That’s got to be the one thing I really relied on in the past to bring someone to their knees.” Her sarcasm oozed through her words, and she thought of just how bad of a flirt she truly was, especially when she was still in school. She’d always been too forward, or too timid. There had never been a middle ground.  

    “What?” he laughed. “I’m lying in your bed. How much further you want me to go? Besides, I can’t wink. I don’t have that talent.”

    “Everyone can wink.”

    “No. Not everyone. I’m not double jointed either.”

    “No way; show me!”

    “Aren’t you supposed to be recovering?”

    She ran her hand through his hair again, more deliberately this time. He clearly felt that shift, his eyes closing and a content hum rumbling from him. “Feeling safe for the first time in a long time is recovering.”

    “Your arm.”

    “Is fine. Not all scars are external, Link.”

    He blinked hard, and Zelda watched him curiously as he did it again. “Are you okay?”

    “I’m winking.”

    Zelda giggled, watching him blink a third time. “No, you’re not.”

    “Because I can’t!”

    “You can! Here, let me help! Can I touch near your eye?”

    He nodded, and her fingers touched his cheek; he flinched, despite being warned. “Sorry,” he muttered.

    “Don’t be.”

    She traced her finger teasingly around his eye before halfheartedly holding it open. “Blink!”

    He forced his eyes closed, despite her efforts. She adjusted and tried again, though they both failed again, chuckling together. A third time, they still couldn’t do it.

    There were no lines on his face, no scrunched up worry marks between his eyes, no tenseness in his muscles. He was pliable under her, scooting his legs so she could get closer, leaning into her touch when she got distracted.

    Her fingers brushed his lips, and they parted automatically. Pliable.

    She brought her lips to his, hovering a moment. There was no way he didn’t feel her breath on his face, and her hand slid along his neck to remind him that she wanted this. Him. And when he didn’t pull away or offer any sign of hesitation, she closed the gap, feeling a warmth spread through her almost immediately.

    Link didn’t flinch this time; he knew exactly what was coming, and he welcomed it eagerly. He was clumsy, but it had nothing to do with his sight. She could feel his hands shake with nerves beneath her arm where he was just barely moving, frozen by her touch.

    She tapped his arm, lifting it a bit, and he took the hint, letting it run through her hair, the other pulling her onto him and locking her in place. This was more him, she knew. He was tactile, feeling her skin every chance he could as a different way of seeing her. He listened, hearing things that she was used to tuning out, so she fought to hold back that little piece of her that was embarrassed, and let herself breathe out a contented sigh. It was worth it when she felt his tongue playfully against her lips, and she parted them, same as he’d done for her earlier.

    It was odd, she thought, to have a natural conversation like this without a single word. But there was a give and take, a question and a response. Her last boyfriend had been sloppy with his kisses, and at the time, she’d enjoyed the haphazardness of it all, the break from her structured and carefully planned academic life. But that was gone, and she had changed. She enjoyed having a partner who gave up control and took it back when it was offered. Someone who thought of her as much as she thought of him.

    Sure, it was the apocalypse, and yeah, maybe they were moving faster than she normally would, but there was something about him. She trusted him as though they’d been together for years, and there was a draw that she couldn’t explain.

    In the past, she’d found people to share her bed, but with Link in it, it felt like it had never been empty in the first place.

    She could feel his smile in their kiss, especially when it slowed to its lazy pace that she indulged in maybe a bit more than she thought she would. His hand ran up and down her arm, and she lowered herself onto him a bit more, like he were a giant pillow, closing the remainder of the gap between them. He broke their kiss and trailed a new path down her neck, stopping with every kiss to brush his nose over her skin, or for his fingers to wander off their path, finding more of her.

    “Well, well! And here I thought you were resting,” Urbosa said, laughing from the doorway.

    Zelda and Link shot apart so hard and fast that Link’s head banged the wall, and Zelda nearly fell off the bed.

    “It’s been a while for you, Link, but one tends to lock the door for privacy.”

    “Yeah,” he muttered, “Thanks Urbosa.”

    “Anytime, loves. Normally, I wouldn’t have even announced myself and let you have at it, but Revali found a pack of Malice-possessed monsters coming this way, so you’ll probably want to get up. Or not. Maybe that’s how you want to go out.”

    “Shut up,” Link mumbled, rolling over Zelda so he could grab his staff. It felt good to use his staff to move freely again rather than relying on others.

    “I’ll see you outside, love birds.”

    Urbosa patted the doorframe and headed out, leaving Link and Zelda alone again.

    “Goddess,” Zelda muttered, putting her face in her cold hands, trying to cool down. “That was awkward.”

    “Better now than later,” Link mused, fixing his shirt and hair.

    “Why’s that?”

    He smirked and faced her. “Well, you gave me a hickey, so I figured…”

    “Oh stop!” Zelda laughed, giving him a light push as she stood. He laughed along with her, but she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed a quick kiss by his ear before whispering, “We have to save some things for later.”

    Link let out a low whistle. “Imagine if we’d done that before the Yiga? We could have passed the time so much more efficiently.”

    “With my bleeding arm covered in Malice, and your bruises, I think we’d have been a bit masochistic. But yeah, that might have worked in our favor.”

    “You into that?”

    She laughed and rolled her eyes, pushing him towards the door. “Why do I even like you?”

    “I’ve been asking myself that question for weeks,” he joked before feeling her hand in his, soft and encouraging.

    “Link, thank you again. For everything. You got me through this.”

    His fingers traced her bandage. “I just wish I’d been able to do something when it mattered most.”

    “Neither of us could do anything. It’s not your fault.”

    He smiled sadly and nodded, letting her leave the room first, listening to her staggered footsteps on the floorboards. Closing his eyes, he let out a breath, and shook his head, clearing his thoughts. Because for everything she could say, he still felt like it was his fault. Like he should have done more. Like she was his eyes and he was her hands. He hadn’t acted when she needed him to. And now she was tainted with Malice that might kill her the same way it had taken everyone else from him.

    #legend of zelda #breath of the wild #post apocalyptic#modern au#whumptober2021#whumptober 2021#whumptober #no.16 #scars#aftermath#recovery#fluff#whump#link#zelda#zelink#mipha#urbosa#writing #they deserve a break #maybe overkill on the fluff but I regret nothing
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  • isamajor
    25.10.2021 - 1 day ago

    Fog and Solitude

    Summary :

    A new gang raging in Kanto region. An Interpol raid that goes wrong. Nanu sacrifices himself to allow her colleagues to leave. To find himself alone with guys hunting him, in an opaque fog. In a very bad shape, he is discovered at the end Celadon City's sewers by Team Rocket. Whose Boss intends to take advantage of the cop's informations.

    [read here on Ao3]


    For @istadris​ (late) birthday ! :D

    And also for @whumptober2021​ - @whumptober-archive​ - :

    • Days #25 (hide & seek: escape), #19 (Just a scratch : bleeding, stabbing), #7 (My Spidey-sense is tingling : blindness -in the fog-), #6 (Touch and Go : bruises) in the fic first part,

    • Days #3 (sticks and stones may break my bones but... : "who did this to you ?"), #16 (On a need to know basis : recovery) in the second part of this fic

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  • lady-wallace
    25.10.2021 - 1 day ago

    Mask Off Part 3/3 (JJBA)

    Final part is now up! Comfort for our boys now ^_^ Read the previous parts with the Ao3 link below


    Prompts Used: Whumptober Alternate Prompt #8: Comfort

    Fandom: JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure: Part 5

    Characters: Giorno & Fugo


    Read on Ao3

    Read on FF.net

    You can also find me on:

    Instagram or if you’re enjoying my fics this month, consider buying me a coffee on  Ko-fi (I also do art/fic commissions!)


    Giorno and Fugo sat in the car, Narancia squished between them, having refused to leave their sides. Bucciarati drove them back to the house silently. The rest of the team had joined up with La Squadra to go after the other people who had been at the auction. There were no paper trails from the anonymous transactions, but Giorno had recognized and remembered several of the faces at the party, and there was no mask they could hide behind that would keep him from knowing who was in that cellar room.

    Everyone was silent, though Giorno could see Bucciarati's hands clenched tight around the steering wheel. As exhausted as he was, he could understand completely how he felt.

    He couldn't believe this had been going on so long under all of their noses. Who knows how many children had been taken off the streets, kidnapped and sold to this ring of absolutely appalling people? Giorno had sat in meetings and at dinner with some of these people. Exchanged pleasantries. It made him sick to his stomach.

    When they finally got back to the house, Trish was waiting outside the door and rushed to the car.

    "Oh god, I'm so glad you're both okay," she breathed as Giorno staggered out, Narancia and Trish both helping him as he put too much weight on his injured ankle.

    "Let's get them inside," Bucciarati said quietly, ushering them all forward.

    Giorno went wearily, just wanting to sleep, but there were still things to do. He also wanted to get out of these horrible clothes.

    Trish made tea and sandwiches as Narancia gathered blankets and Bucciarati ushered them upstairs into the shower, letting Giorno use his own so they wouldn't have to take turns. He'd gathered clothes for them and Giorno gratefully slipped into the set of sweatclothes Bucciarati had picked out, both worn and comfortable.

    Bucciarati found him as soon as he emerged from the bathroom and gave him a small smile.

    "How is your ankle?"

    Giorno shrugged. "It's not broken."

    Bucciarati pressed his lips together. "I think we have a brace. I'll grab it in a minute. Do you want to go downstairs or would you rather be in your room?"

    "The couch is fine," Giorno said tiredly. He didn't really want to be left alone right now. As tired as he was, his thoughts were still going places he would rather they didn't. And he was sure Fugo felt the same.

    Bruno helped him down the stairs and settled him on the couch. Fugo was already there curled in a blanket, Trish and Narancia setting food out on the coffee table. Giorno sank down gratefully next to Fugo and Bucciarati wrapped a blanket around his shoulders as well.

    "Let me get that brace for you. Are there any other injuries I need to know about?"

    They both shook their heads and Giorno reached for the tea, but it was hard to hold the cup with his hands still swollen, his thumbs barely worked. It was okay once he wrapped both hands around the mug though.

    "I found your ladybug," Narancia told Giorno after a second, placing the brooch on the coffee table.

    Giorno nodded gratefully. "I'm glad you did."

    A dark looked passed over Narancia's face but he shook it off and offered a small smile instead.

    Bruno came back, helping Giorno get his foot into the brace and then tended his and Fugo's minor injuries. Suggesting ice for Giorno's hands once he was done eating.

    "I'm going to be going out to help the others," he said and turned to Narancia. "Narancia?"

    The boy looked up, then back down. "I—think I'm going to stay here. If that's okay, Bucciarati?"

    Bruno's face softened, looking almost relieved as he nodded. "Of course. I would prefer you and Trish stay with Giorno and Fugo for now." Giorno heard what he didn't say—that he didn't want Narancia to have to see what they might find going after people like that.

    Bucciarati then knelt in front of the couch and opened his arms. "Come here," he said quietly.

    Giorno and Fugo leaned into him as Bucciarati wrapped his arms around them both, a long exhale escaping him.

    "I'm so sorry," he whispered to them. "If I could have prevented that…"

    "We know," Giorno replied. "It's not your fault."

    "I knew there was something off about Milani though," Bruno growled. "I shouldn't have let you go alone."

    "It was all just an accident," Giorno assured him. "But, we're all right. And now we can take down the whole operation."

    "There is that," Bucciarati admitted darkly. He kissed both of them on their foreheads before he stood and reluctantly released them. "Try to rest. We'll call in periodically to keep you up to date."

    Giorno nodded gratefully and sank back against the couch cushions. Trish and Narancia started to clean up the lunch, telling them they'd bring more tea.

    As soon as they were gone, Fugo, who hadn't said anything since they had gotten back, turned to Giorno and said, "I'm sorry."

    Giorno frowned. "Why?"

    Fugo snarled, his hands clenching in his blanket. "Because I'm the one who got us into this! If I hadn't been caught…"

    "That wasn't your fault, Milani probably suspected we'd try something from the beginning."

    "Yes, it was," Fugo said, looking away. "I was looking through the office, all the horrible stuff in there, the records…pictures, Giorno. So many…" He swallowed hard and squeezed his eyes shut. "I knew exactly what was going on the instant I saw those. And then I heard the guards. I had time to get out. But I didn't. I was frozen, I couldn't even move. I just sat there staring at all those horrific files until they caught me."

    "Fugo, you probably would have been caught anyway. Milani wasn't going to take any chances."

    "Stop making excuses for me!" Fugo snapped, then covered his face in the blanket, breathing heavily as if he were trying to calm himself. "I wouldn't wish feeling…helpless… like that on anyone, Giorno. It's not a good feeling, and these….disgusting aberrations think they have the right to make children feel like that! I hate them so much, I hate them!"

    Giorno sat silently as Fugo's voice echoed off the ceiling, not knowing what to say. He agreed, definitely, but for him, there was still a detachment. He hadn't been through what Fugo had, and as horrible as this experience was, he couldn't pretend that he understood exactly what his friend was feeling right now.

    "And back there…" Fugo croaked. "Purple Haze killed everyone in that building, Giorno. Because I didn't stop him. I didn't even think about it. What if there were innocents…"

    "No," Giorno cut in quickly. "You can be assured, Fugo, that anyone there was not an innocent. Whether they actively took part in the atrocities or not, they knew they were happening and didn't stop them. That man was open with all his staff about it. I'm sure he hired appropriately."

    Fugo curled up further. "That doesn't mean I can't scare myself. Still. I thought…I thought I was over this all-consuming rage." A tear slid from his eye. "But I'm still just as toxic as ever. If anyone else from our team had been inside…"

    "Purple Haze would have stopped," Giorno assured him.

    "You don't know that."

    "Yes, I do," Giorno protested, reaching out to carefully put a hand on Fugo's shoulder and when he didn't flinch, he squeezed reassuringly. "Because he's you Fugo. And I know that you would never hurt any of us."

    "Well, unless I screw up my math," Narancia said, coming into the room with a grin as he flopped down on the couch and snuggled up next to Fugo, not bothering to ask if he could share his blanket. "But we know you wouldn't really hurt us, Fugo."

    Fugo took a shuddering breath, uncurling a bit.

    Trish brought more mugs, and this time they had hot chocolate.

    "Here," she said. "I thought you could use something special."

    "Let's watch a movie," Narancia suggested.

    Narancia put something on, and the four of them huddled together on the couch, sipping the delicious cocoa, the warmth and sugar helping ease their frayed nerves.

    At one point, Fugo turned to Giorno, a grateful look in his eyes.

    "Thank you, Giorno," he whispered.

    Giorno gave him a small smile and nodded, cuddling up further in his own blanket.

    They stayed like that for the rest of the day, putting on movie after movie, as they sat, warm and feeling safe together.

    It was late when Bucciarati, Mista and Abbacchio returned, looking exhausted, and covered in blood, but with a certain resolve about them.

    Giorno looked up when Bucciarati peeked his head in.

    "It's done," he said simply. "There will still be some clean-up in the organization, but everyone who was there at the auction last night has paid their dues."

    Giorno let out a breath of relief and glanced over at Fugo who also looked relieved.

    "Do you wanna watch some movies with us?" Narancia asked him.

    Bucciarati smiled tiredly. "After we get cleaned up, I think we would all like to watch some movies with you. Why don't you order in some pizza?"

    They spent the rest of the night together until they all eventually fell asleep in the living room, comforted by the fact that they had this place that was safe away from the horrors of the world with the net of protection that only family could truly provide.

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  • redwingedwhump
    25.10.2021 - 1 day ago

    Day(Alt.8) Comfort

    TW, Non-sexual bathtime nudity, Collar.


    Alec the tiefling, getting his hair washed by Brother Martin, and finding out he really likes it. It’s nice, and it doesn’t hurt at all. (as seen in this chapter).

    Please do Not stick this anywhere else

    Detail here!

    In which I recall that the best way to get some background textures and looks is to shut up and render the darn things yourself, by hand, one stone or rivet at a time, because that tends to work okay.

    @yet-another-heathen​ @distinctlywhumpthing​ @crystalquartzwhump​ @burtlederp​

    Ask to join the art taglist!

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  • redwingedwhump
    25.10.2021 - 1 day ago
    #disability adjustment#captured series #yes alsander = harrow #oc asks #torture aftermath tw #whump aftermath tw #recovery whump
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  • jordanstrophe
    24.10.2021 - 2 days ago

    War of Royalty, Blood and Rain

    [Masterlist] CW: Medieval whump, medical whump, whip wounds, painful wound cleaning, manhandling, held down, p a i n (did some research, apparently medieval times often used vinegar to clean wounds, ouch!) 

    Godfrey bundled Eden within his cloak and held him against his chest. He tugged his gauntlet off and rested his fingers over his face. 

    “He’s barely breathing...” He rasped, feeling slow jagged breaths between his fingers. “Hey!” Margrave called, pulling his horse next to his. 

    “Take him home, put our majesty's heart at ease. He’s been wallowing in worry for far too long.” 

    Godfrey gave a subtle smile before tightening his arm around Eden, sending his horse into a gallop. -


    Godfrey slid his arm under his legs and lifted him off the horse’s back. He bolted to the throne room, the guards at the gate seeing the broken boy bleeding in his arms and immediately slammed the doors open for them.

    “MY LORD!” He yelled, the King’s worried pacing before his throne subsided. His head snapped up, seeing the unmoving figure in Godfrey’s arms dripping with a mix of blood and rain. One arm hung limply at his side from underneath the cloak, a series of open whip marks lining down to his wrists. 

    King Arvend’s eyes widened, his hand clutching at his heart. 

    “Into my chambers... NOW!” 


    ‘Keep him very, very still.’

    ‘This’ll burn, but hopefully he sleeps through it.’

    It felt as if someone poured a bucket of acid down his back, his open wounds burned and screamed. He couldn’t move. His whole body throbbed and struck in flashes of pain. He could only twitch one hand slightly into a fist, grasping a handful of soft fur. He couldn’t shout or beg, cry nor plead.

    ‘Keep breathing, you’re going to be fine, son.’

    Another wash slid down his back seeping into the whip indents, this time, he screamed. He jolted off the king’s chest, his hands grabbing his wrists and pinning him back down. 

    “Eden! Calm down!” Arvend yelled, wrapping his arm around the boy’s head.

    “ST-STOP IT! ENOUGH!” Eden cried, violently tugging and thrashing against his hold. 

    “One last rinse should do it.” The physician spoke. “Is that necessary!?” Arvend snapped, holding Eden more protectively then he was steadily. 

    “My apologies, your majesty, but the boy’s wounds are filthy. You did say to treat him as if I were treating you-” “-I know! I know what I said...” Arvend rasped, holding his hand up to silence him before gently resting it on Eden’s cheek. 

    The physician hesitated, seeing blood and vinegar soaking the King’s royal robes. “Please my lord, fetch for the servants to hold him, your robes are getting bloody.” He gestured. 

    Arvend looked down at the quivering boy in his arms. “This is the least I can do! I don’t want anyone else to even touch him. This boy means so much more to me than some robes... I wasn’t sure if he was even-” He trailed off, his eyes threatening to gloss over as he relaxed his fingers into Eden’s hair.

    “Pl-... se... pl-p... st-..” Eden sobbed, gasping for breath. "Shhh, we're almost done." Arvend hushed, slowly brushing his hair back. “Finish this so I can put the poor thing to bed... His rest is long overdue.” He spoke, holding him tighter and bracing for another rinse. 



    ‘Who are you?’

    The words of a feint memory reappeared. 

    Eden awoke to smooth fabric against his cheek. He was lying on his chest in the King’s bed with a light sheet draped over him. Red-tinted bandages tightly wrapped around his chest and shoulder, he groaned and twisted around, a hand instantly snapped out and grabbed his wrist.

    “Woah there, easy does it.” A voice lulled. 

    Eden squinted an eye open, seeing Arvend sitting at a desk scooted next to the bed spilling with countless papers and letters. His eyes looked swollen from exhaustion and stress, yet he still gave him a sweet smile and slowly combed through his hair.

    “Mm-..!” Eden cringed when the sourness became apparent, he furrowed his brows and shuttered. 

    “Shhh, it’s okay. Go back to sleep.” Arvend lulled, pulling the blankets higher around his shoulders and thumbing his cheekbone. 

    “You’re home.”  

    ʕっ• ᴥ • ʔっ Thank you for reading!~ @tears-and-lilies  @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @starnight-whump  @bumpthumpwhump @whumpcreations @myst-in-the-mirror @heathenville @grizzlie70 @castielamigos-whump-side-blog  @thegreathowdini @kim-poce @digitalart-dwa @princessofonward @andwhump @sunflower1000 @kim-poce  @lonesome--hunter   @cupcakes-and-pain @as-a-matter-of-whump  @nicolepascaline @neverthelass  @octopus-reactivated @jadeocean46910

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  • endless-whump
    24.10.2021 - 2 days ago

    Milo: It’s Ok

    @whumptober2021 Days 21: bleeding through the bandages | pressure | blood-matted hair and 22: comfort (alternate)

    Milo Masterlist

    Whumptober Masterlist

    CW: ptsd, dissociated whumpee, referenced captivity, hospital setting, fear of water


    “Lean back a bit, I’m right here.”

    Water dripped from the faucet, falling in small plinks that disrupted the otherwise dead quiet of the bathroom.  Nick was careful with each touch, each movement announced even when he was given no response.  It was like Milo wasn’t even there, eyes void of any of the previous emotion on the first night.

    It was his first time in a week out of the hospital room, and Nick had managed to convince the nurses that he’d respond better to him than a stranger, and he needed a bath badly.  It had taken some coaxing to get him out of the bed, no doubt helped by the medication still in his system.

    But there was something else, something deeper rooted keeping Milo as still as this, pliant as Nick massaged soap into the greasy, blood stained strands of hair overgrown from time.  He’d have to be talked into getting it cut, or maybe just tied up so it wasn’t in his face so much.  

    “I need you to lean all the way back, you won’t go under.”  It was a promise.  A silly one maybe, and probably more for his benefit than Milo’s, but he had to.  He needed to hear it out loud that he was safe, even if it was for selfish reasons.  Moving Milo’s head onto the top of his leg, heedless of the water it got on himself, he moved his partner gently, with time for him to resist if he wanted to.  

    Thin, shaking fingers latched onto his wrist, making him freeze.  The look of fear was the first sign of anything other than apathy from him in days, and Nick couldn’t help the relief that came with it even through the guilt at causing it.

    “You won’t go under.”

    He waited until the grip on his wrist went slack, silent assent to keep going as dark hair slipped underneath the water of the tub, tendrils of red staining the water dark.  It made it all too hard to pretend this was anything but evidence of violence, of hurt, all sitting in front of him with no way to fix it.

    “You can’t fix everything, Nick.  Just be here.”

    Milo’s own words echoed in his mind, feeling so...old.  They were full of anger, back then, full of as much frustration as Nick had in himself for feeling so helpless.  He was trying, he really was.  He focused on staying tender, staying here,because right now he was the one consistent thing in Milo’s life and he needed to be giving that; consistency.  Tenderness that wasn’t conditional. Wasn’t going to be taken away.

    “It's warm.”

    Nick blinked, surprised.  He’d never get used to how broken Milo’s voice sounded, strained as if it pained him to even speak.  He tried to seem unfazed, fingers remaining gentle and steady as he rinsed the suds out of his hair, water a muddy brown now with the blood.  He tried not to let it make him feel sick.

    “Mhm. Did you expect it not to be?”

    A shrug, dull blue eyes drifting to stare at a spot on the wall.

    “It hasn’t been warm in a long time.”

    Nick just hummed again, ignoring the visible flinch when he reached over Milo to grab the neatly folded towels set beside him.  He tried not to let his imagination run wild at the simple, apathetic statement, but it was hard.  It has been ever since he got the phone call.

    “Do you mean that you’re cold all the time?” Nick asked, trying not to sound too...interrogative.  Pulling the drain up to let the water recede, he wrapped the towel around Milo’s shoulders.  The smell of lavender shampoo was a nice replacement to the blood and sweat and antiseptic that had seemed impossible to get out, seeped into both of their skin like a constant reminder of where they were.  “Or that it was always cold where they kept you?”  He tried to convince himself it wasn’t a pry for information, something that the police were desperate to get a hold of from him.  The injuries and sheer amount of time Milo had been missing by themselves were enough to draw the conclusion of kidnapping, but other than that Milo had been tight lipped on the entire ordeal.  

    There were only assumptions, ones that had devoured Nick’s nightmares and thoughts until he wanted to tear them from his mind entirely.

    “Both...I guess.”  Milo leaned into the touch when the towel moved to rub through his damp hair, a movement Nick didn’t miss.  He was shivering.  “He always kept me so...so cold, I never thought I’d be warm again.  And...and it's better here, I guess, but I never feel warm enough.”

    Nick couldn’t help the way his hands stilled, eyes searching Milo’s face desperately.  It was the most he’d heard from him in one go than...since he’d gotten to the hospital.  The most descriptive, and lucid anyways.  He clung to it like a lifeline.

    “They don’t keep it warm enough in the damn hospital rooms,” keep it conversational, keep it safe.  “I’ll bring some blankets from home, if they’ll let me.  We’ll be back there soon anyways.”

    Dried off and helped back into a pair of soft pajama pants and a t- shirt, they made their careful way back to bed.  Milo leaned onto Nick warily, fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt, but he was able to stand, to walk on his own.  It was a lot more progress than even two days ago.  

    Milo was silent the whole trip back, compliant as he was helped back into the bed and underneath the thin excuse of a blanket, although he did eye the drip next to him warily.  

    “I’m...not sure what you mean by that.”

    Now digging through his backpack for his phone, Nick paused only to send a quick text to Ava, asking her to bring over a generous amount of blankets from the apartment before he looked back up.

    “By going home?”  He considered Milo carefully, shifting his weight where he crouched by the bed.  Milo was flighty at best and outright destructive at worst, so the doctors had cautioned against talking about what was happening after the hospital much.  But...the apartment was familiar to Milo, and it's not like he was settling in here well in the first place.  “We’ll go back to the apartment, if that’s ok with you.  We’re...together, Milo, that hasn’t changed.  You have a place with us.”

    “I don’t...I don’t have anything, I don’t think.”

    “I never got rid of your stuff, love.”

    Taking Milo’s hand in his, all too aware of how cold his skin was, Nick rested his head against the other’s leg.  He could feel the way Milo’s gaze bore into him, heavy with a weight of questioning and confusion and uncertainty he just wished he could just fix.  But he contented himself with being here, with Milo being here.  

    “We were always waiting for you to come home, Milo.  Always.”

    When he moved to stand, he wasn’t expecting the way Milo grabbed his face, pulling him close with a sudden movement that almost sent him off balance.  Nick was stunned at the intensity in those crystal clear, blue eyes.  He didn’t pull away when he was kissed with bruising force, senses assaulted with the taste of tears and the initial coldness of the skin against his, but underneath it all was the soft warmth he was so familiar with, the warmth he’d yearned for all this time.

    “You...you didn’t give up on me even though...even though I did, on you.”  Milo was breathless, voice on the verge of panic.  “I gave up, Nick, and even now I just- I don’t know-”

    “I know what you mean,”  Nick soothed, smiling.  The smell of lavender almost let him forget his surroundings. Almost.  “It’s alright.”

    “It's ok?” Milo whispered, as if expecting the whole world to be pulled right from underneath him.

    “It’s ok.”

    An hour later, wrapped in a stupid tiger blanket he probably got in a white elephant exchange, hospital room filled with the smell of takeout, they got the first smile out of Milo in their entire time so far at the hospital.  It was the first one Nick had seen in almost a year, and he almost preferred it over the kiss.


    @haro-whumps@insanitywishes@lonesome--hunter@deluxewhump@elisabethrosewrites@insanitywishes@iaminamoodymoodtoday @bleeding-demon-teeth @lumpofwhump@redstainedsocks @redstainedsocks @finder-of-rings @insomniacscoprio @inaridriscoll @rosesareviolentlyread @insanitywishes @thehopelessopus @miksmusings @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi​ @princessofonward​ @liliability​ @grettiwrites

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  • itsleighlove
    24.10.2021 - 2 days ago

    Continued from here

    @dabi-s-whore @thelazywitchphotographer @a-very-huggable-platypus @sunflower1000 @nora2317 @whumpflies @justanoob12 @aqua-blogging @kactus-loves-writing @thealocksly @whatwasmyprevioususername @dumb-and-lesbian @michelleswhumpyreblogs @grizzlie70 @urmomfjdjej @amongtheonedaisy @1becky1 @shameless-dumbass

    TW: Manipulative caretaker (kind of)

    "Civilian..." Hero opened the door to Civilian's room, stepping into the dim interior.

    "What are you doing here." Civilian glared at Hero as they crossed the room to stand in front of where Civilian sat. Tears streamed down their cheeks. "Crying doesn't make me feel sorry for you. It's just pathetic."

    Civilian had gotten meaner since it became clear Hero wasn't going to hurt them.

    Hero sank to their knees, head hung. "... I'm sorry..." Their voice was broken, tears falling into the floor. "I'm sorry..."

    Civilian was taken aback. "... Then let me go." They said, but their voice was softer now as they looked at the person kneeling before them. Hero suddenly looked weak— like they never had so far. Vulnerable. Their heart poured out and layed bare at Civilian's feet.

    "I made the wrong call..." Hero took in a shaky breath as they tried not to start sobbing. "I shouldn't have killed them... even for what they did... I was angry— I was jealous..."

    Civilian pulled their knees up to their chest.

    "And now..." Hero wiped their eyes, but didn't look up. "Now— because of my rash decision— I've lost the person that matters most to me out of anyone in the world..."

    Civilian touched Hero's hair very lightly and Hero looked up, eyes still brimming with tears. They locked eyes with Civilian, who didn't look angry or scared for the first time since Hero had rescued them. Instead, Civilian wore a look of deep concern and vague confusion.

    Hero stood up, hastily brushing the remaining tears out of their eyes. "I'm sorry, Civilian... I really am..." They said quietly, but quickly left.

    "Was any of what you said true? It sounded genuine." Sidekick asked as Hero sat at the table with them, still trying to get their tears under control.

    "Yeah... every word of it..." Hero took in a shaky breath. "I've wanted to say it to them almost ever since I brought them back safe, but... I didn't think it would do anything..."

    "Well, did it..?"

    Hero nodded. "I think... I think it shook them a little... They were just as mean as every other time when I walked in, but when I finished talking... Sidekick, I could see them again. In their eyes. It was them, even just for a second."

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  • jordanstrophe
    23.10.2021 - 3 days ago

    Whumpee has an ‘I can do it’ attitude where they hate the help and constant coddling. Caretaker stands over them with their arms crossed watching whumpee sob on the floor while trying to prove they can put on at least one shoe by themselves. 

    Whumpee eventually caves in and raises the shoe to caretaker with their head down in embarrassment. Caretaker puts a gentle hand on their head before slipping the shoe on and lifting them to their feet. Whumpee stays curled up in their arms for a moment with their face buried in their shoulder until the tears pass. 

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  • whump-blog
    22.10.2021 - 4 days ago

    Prompt 21

    The winged whumpee stared up at the sky, caretaker was at their side helping them to stand. It was the first time in a long time that whumpee had seen the sky. If they had had the strength they would have opened their wings and flown, felt the wind in their feathers; but that was not possible. Years in captivity with their wings unused had finally atrophied their muscles, rendering them useless.

    The once beautiful wings were now only a heavy burden and memories of a better time.

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  • lelly-belly
    22.10.2021 - 4 days ago

    Whumptober Day 16

    Hey friends! Sorry for not posting a lot, school is a lot harder than it used to be lol. I had a lot of essays to write and bullshit to spew, but I got a couple of days done in the midst of the essays. Enjoy

    tagging: @tinyplan3ts if you want to be added or removed, send me an ask!


    recovery | scars | aftermath

    CW: scars, abuse, abuse that happened as a child, kidnapping ref, guilt, violence, fighting (Please let me know if I missed anything!)

    Context: My ex-hero Drew, and his coworker (but honestly he’s more of a friend) Beck, talk about the scars Drew’s collected over the years as both a hero and a guy who likes to butt into other people’s business. 


    “What about that one?”

    “A fight. It was a random crazy at a bus station.”

    “This one?”  

    “Oh, that was a bloody battle. An actual villain, if you can believe it. He almost crushed me. Honestly, its fun to laugh at now, but I almost died.”

    “Wow. This one?” 

    “Pretty fucked up mugging. Guy had a knife and everything.” 

    “‘Kay, what about this one? ‘Nother fight?”

    “Mmhmm, but a bar fight when I was enrolled in community college. No bad guy that time, just a drunk dude who thought I was hitting on a girl.”

    “Were you?” 

    “Pfft, no,” Drew laughed. “If anything, I was hitting on him.” Beck rolled his eyes and smiled. 

    “‘Course you were. Anyway…” Beck looked at Drew’s scar ridden chest and pointed to a thin one on his left shoulder. “What about this one?” He touched it gently. “This has gotta just be from you doin’ somethin’ stupid, right? All a these can’t be from fights.” Drew took Beck’s hand off of his shoulder and shook his head. His smile had fallen.

    “It isn’t from a fight,” he said slowly. “But I don’t think you’ll want to know what it’s from.” Beck cocked his head and furrowed his eyebrows at Drew’s muted tone. 

    “Do I not wanna know, or do you not wanna tell me? There’s a difference y’know.” Drew shrugged. 

    “It wasn’t a great situation, but it was a few years ago. It doesn't really affect me as much anymore.” Back took Drew’s rough hands in his and softly squeezed them. He could already tell Drew was lying. It definitely still did something to him when he thought about it.

    “Well, you already told me a lot ‘bout your life, so it don’t matter what you tell me and what you—”

    “After I escaped Boulder and left the hospital my uncle slammed my head into the side of a glass coffee table,” Drew blurted. He kept his gaze down at their joined hands. “He did it until it shattered and shards got everywhere. I had to clean everything up before he even let me go bandage myself. My mom and dad were at work, Josh was at school, and Emily was at daycare. No one knows that it happened except for me and him. He still comes to our family reunion every year.” 

    Beck sat there silently for a minute, processing what he’d just heard. “Why’d he do it?” 

    Drew squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. When he opened them, they were still dry, but now out of focus, like he was trying to disassociate himself from the situation. 

    “He said I shouldn’t have been caught in the first place. He said that it was punishment for what I put my family through,” he mumbled. 

    “What a load of horsehit,” Beck decided. He finally succeeded in gaining Drew’s attention and melancholy gaze back on him. “He couldn’ even come up with a good excuse? Fuck that guy.” Drew smiled wryly. 

    “Thanks, Beck.” It was clear Drew didn't believe him. It was difficult to find a way to comfort the kid. Beck had an environmental science degree for Christ’s sake, not a psychology one! 

    “Look,” Beck started, “I’m not good at this stuff, but you don’t need to blame yourself for all a that. You were kidnapped right?” Drew nodded. 


    “Right. And you were fourteen. I don’t see how a fourteen year old is fighting off a surprise kidnapping from a villain in their prime. Seriously, Drew, if that happened to me now, I guarantee you I wouldn’t be able to fend him off.” 

    “Yeah? Well, I’m the kid of a hero, I should’ve been able to—”

    “Drew, shut up, okay?” Beck said with a smile. “It doesn’t matter who your dad was, you were a kid. Hell, you’re still a kid. You shouldn’t have to deal with that kinda guilt.” 

    Drew smiled weakly. “Thanks,” he mumbled. It still didn't seem like he believed Beck, but he at least looked a little better. 

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  • jordanstrophe
    22.10.2021 - 4 days ago

    CW: Rough recovery, headaches, fever, fatigue, hospital mentioned, poor baby getting coddled by a protective caretaker because that’s just what I wanted to write today

    Caretaker whisked whumpee from the hospital to try and give them a normal day for once. No stress, no hospital chaos, just a nice time at their favorite restaurant. Whumpee often got headaches and fatigue in their rough recovery, but today was a good-enough day to try and slip out for a moment. 

    “What?” Whumpee mumbled through a mouthful, noticing Caretaker's staring. “Oh! Nothing, It’s just... been a while since I’ve seen you with that smile.” Caretaker commented. Whumpee huffed a laugh, “Well how could I not, it's been too long since- '' They cut themselves off as their head was stuck with dizziness, their head falling slightly as they caught themselves at the bridge of their nose with two fingers. 

    “Headache?” Caretaker asked, immediately waving someone over for a cup of water. “mm... Mmhm.” Whumpee winced, their hand trembled as they struggled to bring the glass their lips. “Easy, take it slow." Caretaker coddled, helping hold the glass for them. “Maybe we should just go back..”

    “No! No it’s fine, we’ve come all this way and you’ve g-gone through all the troub-” They cut themselves off as Caretaker extended their hand. “Forehead.” They ordered. Whumpee groaned as they pushed their face into Caretaker’s palm begrudgingly. 


    “As I suspected, a fever.” Caretaker sighed. “But!-” “-No! No buts! We’ll take the food with us and then it’s off to bed with you.” They packed everything up and glanced at Whumpee, whose head was down and eyes glossing over. 

    “Hey... It’s okay. Everything will go back to normal soon, I promise.” They smiled, thumbing their cheek. “I’ll put a movie on with some ice cream. Your favorite?” They cooed, trying to make their bed-riddeness sound exciting. Whumpee rasped a laugh as they bit their lip and subtly nodded. 

    Whumpee struggled to stand, their legs violently trembling as they gripped the chair. "I've got you." Caretaker whooshed in and latched their arm under their elbow.

    Whumpee mumbled a ‘thank you’ in fluster and a shy smile. 

    Tag list: @grizzlie70  @lave-whump @amethysts-sideblog  @whump-it-like-its-hot  @thingsthatgowhumpinthenight @yet-another-heathen @princessofonward @whatwhumpcomments  @ill-eat-you-if-you-cross-me @mascmasochist @hamiltonwhumpdump  @shokuhoemisaki @as-a-matter-of-whump @whumpasaurus101 @lonesome--hunter @whatwhumpcomments @digitalart-dwa @mabledonut @myst-in-the-mirror @whatwhumpcomments

    o(^∀^*)o Thank you for reading!

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  • whumpadventureprompts
    21.10.2021 - 5 days ago

    Enemy to Caretaker

    "You're enjoying this, aren't you?" asks Whumpee.

    "Me?" asks Caretaker. "Enjoying seeing you injured and helpless? After everything you've done?" They smile. "Maybe a little."

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  • ashintheairlikesnow
    21.10.2021 - 5 days ago
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  • promptsforyourwhumpfic
    20.10.2021 - 5 days ago

    Whumptober #14: Forced

    A knew the only way they were going to get better was by force - no matter how long it took. 

    So every morning they forced themselves out of bed at a reasonable time, they forced themselves to shower and brush their teeth, and they made themselves eat something (their meals varying from a small chocolate bar to a full breakfast). They made themselves get dressed even though they couldn’t go anywhere/had nowhere to be, and they forced themselves to do one small chore, counting it a success if they still had the energy to do more. 

    They forced themselves to take their medication at the right time, and when a friend goes to check on them, the small comment of ‘you’re looking better’ sends them over the moon.

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