Whump blog, mainly. I'm mediocre at tagging stuff so proceed at your own discretion. He/Him. Adult. Literally nocturnal. Sometimes socially awkward so I apologize in advance for that.
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My whump-writing-focused sideblog: @snakewrites-and-ink
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My goblin (fediverse)
My Wafrn (also fediverse)
My Pillowfort
MY WRITING
ā=Completed | ā=In progress | ā¼=On hold
On hiatus from series and miniseries until further notice
Series
ā” Technically Not Human (working title) ā
Nolan signs away his freedom and goes to an institution that trains superhumans to serve the highest bidder.
š±ļø Asher the IT Pet ā
What if someone who was legally a pet were allowed to have a life like a free person?
š¤ Whumper-turned-Caretaker CYOA ā
What it says on the tin.
Miniseries
ā Living Weapon Aquarius ā
š Hero Brainwashed to Villain's Living Weapon ā
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I think all live-action directors should have at least some experience with animation because the reason why Project Hail Mary is so visually stunning made so much sense when you find out that both of the directors have also written/directed some of the biggest animated movies of the last decade (Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs, The Lego Movie, the Spiderverse movies etc.) like those are people who fundamentally understand visual media. Fuck Christopher āI need to stop filming because a rainbow got into my shotā Nolan I need more directors who know how colours work.
Mock execution that stops just a little later than you'd think it would.
Whumpee made to dig their own grave. They're driven out, they dig the whole thing, they're made to lay down in it, but Whumper doesn't get them up. Whumper starts shoveling the dirt in on top of them, to the point that their head is covered, and only uncovers them once they're sure that Whumpee has actually begun to suffocate.
Or a Whumpee who's taken out back. Made to kneel, gun to their head. They beg and plead, but the gun actually fires. Maybe it just fires into the ground beside them, or maybe it fires into Whumpee, just not in a fatal place. Still- Whumpee wasn't expecting them to actually fire it.
Maybe it's not the first time a mock execution has happened. Maybe Whumpee goes through the motions thinking it's another intimidation tactic. But then Whumper starts taking that extra step- and that's when Whumpee starts to panic and beg, but at that point it's already "too late".
Telling people that the rainbow in the shot where Telemachus returns home was a real thing. Lean into the "omen from the gods" marketing.
Even better drag Matt Damon to set and have Odysseus return home with a rainbow on the castle. Sure there's still things to do but a rainbow leading home at the end of a long journey? You can't script it.
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i had a dream last night that the entire world used a currency (?) called angrypennies which as the name implies are obtained by experiencing anger. the stronger and more intense your anger was, the more angrypennies you'd gain. an all-consuming rage would earn you more than a slight irritation, etc. so people were always searching for ways to fuel their anger and purposefully keeping themselves angry all the time because they wanted to earn angrypennies. unclear if angrypennies could be exchanged for goods and services, or if they were just a collectible.
anyway, as if this wasn't heavy-handed enough, at one point british comedian greg davies appeared and explained that angrypennies couldn't be worth feeling angry all the time. this was a real revelation to dream-me and i was finally able to break free of the angrypenny grind and allow myself to experience emotions other than anger.
it goes without saying that i will be using the word angrypenny as if it was part of the common vernacular instead of a term that my dreaming brain conjured up i.e. "he's all about the angrypennies" (derogatory way to refer to a guy who searches for reasons to be angry and possibly lacks introspection)
Autism Representation written by an allistic: My name is John Autism and I like the designated autistic interests
unintentionally autistic character written by the creator who hasn't really thought about whether or not theyre autistic: I wish I could be human like the way everyone else is but I know they can tell I'm not. And I know they're right
This is so important though: "You're gonna get in trouble for that" reveals so much. He was planning on nobody doing anything, not because nobody stands up to him, or nobody objecting to what he says. He expects good people to be goody-two-shoes rules followers, and he expects the rules to protect him no matter what he does.
Important lesson to learn from this standing up to fascists means getting into good trouble. Get into trouble if it's worth it. Fascists will never expect it.
A brief altercation recorded during Lake Zurich High Schoolās Feb. 12 walkout protesting U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement has gone v
A brief altercation recorded during a Chicago-area high schoolās Feb. 12 walkout protesting U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement has gone viral online, reflecting the anger over ICE operations that have prompted school walkouts across Lake County and around the country. [...]
According to the letter, about 100 students participated, and the protest has garnered attention from āsome with no apparent affiliation to the district.ā The letter said unauthorized use of recording devices, physical altercations, bullying and harassment are outlined in board policies, as well as disciplinary measures.
The video of the incident went viral online, popping up across different platforms and drawing varying reactions from different political spheres, garnering praise and criticism alike. The video was also highlighted by various right-wing organizations, including the local branch of Moms for Liberty, which had made other posts critical of the planned walkout, calling it a āstudent-organized disruption.ā
Lake County has seen numerous walkouts in the last month, organized by students, in protest of federal immigration enforcement efforts that have rattled many in the region. For example, in Waukegan, which has a significant Hispanic population, about 500 students from Waukegan High participated in a walkout.
According to the Lake and McHenry County Scanner, the student who threw the punch was suspended for two days.
"The youth in general, and especially the young women, are the spark of every revolution.Ā We canāt look at the history and found a revolution without the youth. We are a fundamental factor. We should be aware of this reality, we should take conscience of our historical role. By doing this we will provide ourselves with a plan that will allow us the unity of action and objectives. The Youth should not be condemned to be a slave of the capitalist system. [...] If we reject the labels and mentalities imposed by the system, taking consciousness as Internationalist Youth in a global level and organizing ourselves, is there someone who can stop us?" ā "The youth is the spark of every revolution" by LĆŖgerĆ®n.
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Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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content: second person pov, choose your own adventure, living weapon whump, living weapon whumpee, conditioned whumpee, rocky recovery, comfort, nightmares, past trauma
Your thoughts are going a million miles an hour. You're back and forth between going to Freddie and asking for her comforting words, and getting out of bed and running as far away from her as possible, so as not to put her in danger.
Selfishness wins out. You slowly and quietly get out of bed and shuffle over to the open bedroom door. Freddie's door is open as well, even if just a crack. You push it open. She doesn't even stir. She's so vulnerable. If your handler really decided to hurt her, she would be entirely defenceless.
"Freddie?" you whisper. Nothing. "Freddie..."
She finally moves. She groans in her sleep, turning over. You'll have to be a little more assertive. A little more bold.
You were trained not to be bold. You were trained to be quiet, submissive, pliable.
"Freddie," you squeak. Not very bold.
"#064?" She finally blinks her eyes open and sits up. "Is everything alright?"
Suddenly, you feel stupid having come over to her room over a nightmare. But it was so realistic, so visceral... "I don't think I'm supposed to be here."
That's a funny way of saying 'I have put you in mortal danger by being here'.
"What do you mean?" She rubs her eyes, trying to focus.
"I..." How are you meant to explain it without giving away what the facility is? "I just... I don't think..."
"Have you been up all this time? Thinking about this?"
"No, I... I had a nightmare. And I don't think I'm doing the right thing by taking advantage of your kindness."
"You're not 'taking advantage' of anything. You're just trying to exist. I don't think that's a crime."
You do.
The two of you stay silent for a bit. Freddie seems to be waiting for you to speak, but you're desperately waiting for her to convince you she can protect herself. If she doesn't, you don't know how you could muster the audacity to stay at her place.
"Do you want to sleep here?" she asks after a while.
What would that solve?
"Why?" you ask quietly.
"Well, when I have nightmares, I often wish I had someone to sleep next to. To feel safe."
That sounds... so simple. Also, ineffective. Sleeping next to someone not combat-trained will do nothing to make you feel safe from your handler, the most terrifying woman you've ever met.
And yet.
"I'd like that. If that's okay."
Freddie smiles at you sleepily. She pats the space next to her on the bed. "Climb in."
You carefully climb into bed with her. She's warm, and she doesn't talk or make it weird, she just closes her eyes again like this is all natural.
"Are you sure this is okay?"
"Mhm."
"Sorry. I won't bother you."
"You can talk, if you want. If you have something to get off your chest. I'll listen."
You have life-saving information you need to get off your chest. But you know you won't share it. You're too much of a coward to sell out all of your family and make Freddie understand how wrong she is for having taken you in.
Because her blanket is warm, she is warm, and you're already starting to feel sleepy again.
ā
The next thing you know, you're jolting awake again.
For a moment, you have no idea where you are. Baby pink walls, inricate dressers, a painted picture of fruit above a large mirror. You look to your left; Freddie.
Right. You're in Freddie's room.
"Sorry, did I wake you? I was trying to be quiet," she says, her face the very picture of compunction.
"Are you going to work?" you ask.
"Yeah. Well, if you're awake anyway, would you like to have breakfast with me?"
You nod much too eagerly. Salami sandwich. You'd kill for one.
"Okay," she says with a smile. "Come along, then."
You do, quietly, and while you're walking to the kitchen, you note how much your body has improved over just two days. Your bones probably won't heal right, there's a bit of a chronic pain problem you're staring down the barrel of, but the last beating your handler dished out to you as a parting gift won't claim your life. Probably.
Freddie puts the sliced bread and salami on the table. Then, two plates.
You don't dare reach out before she gestures to them with a smile and an encouraging nod. Then, you gingerly take a single slice of bread and a few slices of salami.
"As always, have as much as you want," she says.
"Thank you, Freddie."
"What was your nightmare about?" she asks casually as she takes a slice of bread for herself.
content: past trauma, broken bones, starvation, torture, noncon mention, aftermath of whump, betrayal, team whump, bad caretaker, emotional whump
"I found it," Leader said solemnly. Whumpee had no idea what they were talking about.
"Found what?"
"The journal."
Oh.
Whumpee squirmed in their seat. Whumper had written everything they did to them down in a journal. Whumpee knew it existed, but they never got the chance to read it. Never got the chance to read the things they'd gone through from Whumper's sick perspective.
"Did you read it?" they asked quietly.
Leader shook their head. "The team agreed to leave it untouched."
"Canā¦ Can I read it?"
Leader raised an eyebrow. "You must know what's in there. And wouldn't it trigger you?"
"I want to read it. If that's possible."
"I meanā¦"
"Please."
Leader sighed. "It's your prerogative." They took out a key from their pocket and unlocked the bottom drawer, pulling out a beat-up looking notebook. They handed it to Whumpee. "Just be careful."
"I will be. Thank you."
Monday, June 8th
I broke Whumpee's arm today. The sound was almost comical, the little pop as it gave way. It sounded like the way I would've imagined a bone breaking to sound. Whumpee was hysterical about it, talking about how it wouldn't heal right and how they wouldn't be able to go back to their duties once they finally escaped or were rescued. They don't know I've hidden them well-enough not to be rescued by the team. Do they think I don't know others are looking for them?
Tuesday, June 9th
Whumpee keeps crying about their arm. I gave them extra rations today to shut them up, but it didn't work. Sometimes they can be such a whiny bitch. But I picked my target right. They're a pretty crier. And useless without their team.
Wednesday, June 10th
The urge to rape them is ever-increasing. I can't do anything about it, they just look so pretty on my basement floor, all black and blueā¦
Whumpee shut the journal. They were breathing heavily, panting almost, like they'd run a marathon. Whumper never raped them. They had no idea the sick piece of crap even had these thoughts. Sure, their gaze might've lingered on Whumpee's starved form for a little longer than was comfortable, but with everything going on, Whumpee didn't even considerā¦
It was fine. They were out. Whumper was gone. And the team would never read this journal.
ā
"Whumpee, can we talk?" Caretaker asked the next day. Whumpee found it strange how jittery they were, but they agreed. They were best friends, after all.
"Sure, about what?"
Caretaker was hiding something behind their back, and Whumpee assumed it would be a small present or something. Like a welcome-home gift. But when Caretaker pulled the thing from behind their back, Whumpee felt their heart sink.
It was the journal.
The journal that was supposed to be under their mattress.
"I heard Leader say they gave it to you. And I had to knowā I had toā"
Whumpee snatched it out of their hand, cradling it close to their chest. "What is wrong with you?" they whispered. This was their best friend. Had been, up until this point.
"I just had to know. Whumpee, I'm so sorry for what they did toā"
"I'm going now."
Caretaker moved to block the exit. "Whumpee, we need to talk about this."
"Get out of my way."
"You can't carry this burden alone."
"So you took it upon yourself to try and share it."
"I had to know!"
"No, you didn't have to!" Whumpee snapped. "You absolutely didn't have to! You all agreed not to read it, you didn't just go against me, you went against everybody! You should be kicked off the team for this! Iā I hate you!"
Caretaker froze at the words. "You're just worked up right now," they tried.
"Yes I'm worked up! You read the journal! I hate you! I hate that you betrayed me like that! Get out of my way!" they shoved past Caretaker, journal still in hand, and went straight to Leader's room. Caretaker was following them closely. "Leader," they said, barging in without knocking. "Caretaker read it."
"I knew Whumpee would never talk about it if it were up to them!" Caretaker, who had followed them inside, said in their defence. "Surely, you didn't intend on just keeping the journal and never even reading a page!"
"You did what?" Leader asked, and Whumpee was quite satisfied with the level of rage in their voice.
"I had to know," Caretaker tried timidly, the same stupid excuse they'd given Whumpee.
"Get out. Right now."
"But Leaderā"
"Get out."
Caretaker pursed their lips. They left without another word. Leader closed the door behind them. "Whumpee, I'm so sorry. If I'd knownā"
"It's fine," they forced themself to say. "I didn't know Caretaker was this type of person either."
"I truly am sorry. Youā¦ can't really take that back."
Now they know.
"I want them kicked off the team," Whumpee said. The words felt like sand in their mouth.
"I understand you're upsetā"
"I want them kicked off. Right now. Go after them and tell them they're not welcome here anymore."
"Whumpee, I'm upset as well. But let's sleep on this at least once."
"They read the journal."
"I understand. And I will take appropriate disciplinary actionsā"
"I want them kicked off."
Leader sighed. "Whumpeeā¦ You would regret that tomorrow."
"It's either me or them. I can't work with them any longer. If you keep them, you lose me."
"You can't be serious."
"I am very serious."
Whumpee knew this was risky. They were still recovering from torture, had PTSD to boot, while Caretaker was a full, contributing member of the team, able to go on missions. By all accounts, if Leader was forced to choose like this, they should've chosen Caretaker. The rejection would hurt, but honestlyā¦ maybe Whumpee did want to get kicked off. After what had happened with Whumper, they'd come back, but they didn't really feel likeā¦ they could ever go on missions again.
"Whumpee, let's sleep on it," Leader tried again, and Whumpee made their choice then and there.
"So you choose them."
"Noā"
"I'm leaving."
"Whumpeeā"
"And I'm taking the journal." With that, they turned and walked out. They found Caretaker standing a few feet from the door, not strictly eavesdropping, but definitely a bit close for comfort. "What do you want?"
"I just wanted to apologise againā"
"Save it. I'm leaving."
Caretaker's eyes widened. "What?"
"I'm not working with you. And Leader chose you ā be happy."
"Whumpeeā"
"Save it."
"Butā"
"A tip for when you have another tortured, traumatised teammate with a detailed journal on how they were tortured: maybe don't read the damn journal."
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