call me Violet â° likes and follows from @violet-prism-creatively
age-wise, I'm over 18, but this blog is safe for minors to interact
original writing: #violet's whump writing
original prompts/scenarios: #violet's whump prompts
art: #violet's whump art
meta, opinions, rambling, etc: #violet's whumperflies
I have an ongoing whump story, Weapon's Wounds (team whump, living weapon, captivity)-- Masterlist, tag for all related posts
And a new one-- Irissa & Luce Masterlist (enemy to caretaker, magic whump, caretaker new master)
Some of my favorite whump tropes:
- Defiant whumpees
- Team whump/multiple whumpees (the dynamics between whumpees! self-sacrifice!)
- Fantasy, historical, sci-fi, etc. settings
- Character pushing past their own limits
Things you probably won't see here:
- Nsfwhump/noncon
- Extreme gore
- Box boy/pet whump
- Intimate/creepy whumper
(Nothing against people who write/draw these, and I may occasionally interact, they're just not my cup of tea. If you follow me and you post a lot of these, I may not follow you back just because I don't want them on my dash, but I love and appreciate you!)
I'd love to discuss tropes and stories with you guys! Feel free to send me asks about anything :D
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Ever since I was a little girlthing I knew I wanted to see women, bleeding all over, barely alive, stumbling through the rain, knocking on a door with what little force their delirious limbs can muster, collapsing onto the floor in front of someone who's very horrified and confused at their current state, but who drags them inside and bandages them up, preparing to demand answers but ultimately being so gentle with her. Normally
Tumblr has eaten this ask like three or four times every time Iâve tried to post it with an addition so Iâm posting it like this for now.
I absolutely love team dynamics in whump.
I also love it when Whumpee takes the blame. Leaderâs back was turned, it was just them in the room, theyâre up and over by their teammate in silent seconds, so that when Leader turns around, theyâre apologizing, saying it slipped, braced to take the hit. Both Leader and Teammate are confused, Leader could tell it wasnât Whumpee who had done it, but neither knew why they would lie?
I'm looking at your Black whump event with interest
Are there any tropes you think we need more of with Black whumpees?
@whump-on-the-side
(^_^ hehe ty <3)
I'm gonna be broad for starters and say "all of them". There is a black whumpee shortage in every subgenre and seeing more of them everywhere would be a huge win :) Though to get more specific, I will give my biased answer as well and say I LOVE for living weapon-style whumpees so I would killllll to see more black whumpees in that kind of scenario too. But like. That's singled out mostly because it's a trope I very deeply adore lmao
Some other tropes I can think about that seem to be very popular (with white whumpees) and would be interesting to see black whumpees in are like. You know that one kind of whumpee? The loserfail kind, or perhaps a "poor-little-meow-meow"? The character who is not particularly tough or strong or put-together and is a mess, who gets to be both weak and worthy of being saved, who gets to be cared for and vulnerable regardless, who can't mask their pain and act strong. I mean, I'm also sucker for the kind of chatharsis you get when a usually self-sufficient and stoic character is finally safe enough (or reaches a breaking point) to be vulnerable and break down and finally stop having to be strong. But both paths are nice. You get me. Even something fully beyond this spectrum or in between is also awesome
It also comes to mind things like, ballet whump, which is probably a little more niche (<- characters having their gracefulness being an admired trait of theirs), that kind of creepy whump kind of situation where a whumpee is beloved for their beauty (ie. their beautiful porcelain-white skin and their flowy straight hair the striking color of embers and jewel-toned blue eyes etc etc) (<- i'd love to see black features be regarded with that kind of reverence) (although i'd seek to have more care when writing that in order to avoid crossing fully over full racial fetishization but like, it's 100% worth the work), fantasy whump (<- high fantasy tends to get coupled with that kind of middle ages europe-lite setting in which folks loathe having black folk exist in apparently because of their holy ~historical accuracy~ or whatever) (i've been reading this one high fantasy novel by Jordan Ifueko called Raybearer that has a lot of characters of color, especially black, in its cast, and clear influences from real-world african cultures so it comes across as really fun and refreshing to me) (and forgive me for my excess of parenthesis but raybearer also has some *chef kiss* angst. it's not the whumpiest thing i've ever read or anything but like. my god. đŹ), hero/villain settings (<- incredibly popular, for a reason, and you could get sooo fun with it) and hmmm. pet whump.
Pet whump is a very beloved (sub)genre that seems to be popular with a lot of people (we have a very major pet whump SUB-subgenre. there are probably hundreds if not thousands of bbu-setting whump stories. how popular does a trope have to be to reach that) and it's not one you see a lot of black (or other nonwhite) whumpees in. Although I know it is in part due to a lack of interest in exploring black characters' nuances through these kinds of situations, I also feel like many folk are just very wary of mixing the two (pet whump + black characters) because of racial conotationa and like, i 100% get where they're coming from. But I still feel like... as i've said, pet whump is a really beloved genre. Lots of black people (me included) are huge fans of the trope. White people get to see themselves in it all of the time, so why not us? Although it might take a bit more of consideration and care to put in when mixing these two in order to unpack and avoid all of the racism and history and associations etc, I think it's still worth it.
So yeah i rambled but short answer: "Which tropes I think we need more with black whumpees" all of them!! :D Black people also deserve to relate to the lovely pretty darling in chains, be them magical or gilded or metaphorical or worn iron.
This got a little long lmao. But yeah that's basically it :)
Black whumpees who are scared black whumpees who are paranoid black whumpees with poor coping mechanisms black whumpees who self-harm black whumpees who are drowning in shame black whumpees with survivor's guilt black whumpees who are lost black whumpees who just want to go home black whumpees who would do anything to never have to go "home" again black whumpees to whom this is all they've ever known black whumpees who are resigned black whumpees who would sooner see hell turn to ice before losing their defiant spark black whumpees who are cunning and strategic and bid their time black whumpees who get fooled by whumper everytime black whumpees who hide their pain away behind a smile black whumpees who are so angry they can't even stand themselves black whumpees who used to be happy black whumpees who never knew a thing such as happiness at all. Etc. You get me.
So basically treat them like a character and do your research for the nuances like you would any other character that's different than your own experience and culture
Riot broke into a palace. King - killed. Queen and the infant heir escape through the secret passage.
The only surviving royal guard closes the hidden door behind their backs, rushes to the opposite side of the corridor, listening to rebels' footsteps approaching. He stands before the insignificant door and pretends he just shut it, shouts "Run, Your Majesty! I'll try to hold them!"
Then he defends this door like he means it, untill his hand can't even grip the weapon. He's down, bleeding, exhausted, covered in wounds.
The rebels finaly open the door, and there's just a mop closet.
They beat the shit out of him, he spits blood and laughs. He won.
Their leader stops the beating, commands to get him urgent medical help. They need him alive for the interrogation. He knows where'd the royals go.
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Magic user Whumpee in a team full of people who know absolutely nothing about magic at all.
The first time theyâre vulnerable enough to wear clothes that donât cover all of their skin, theyâre worried of how the team will react to the magic markings on their skin, but nobody seems particularly bothered.
In fact, they all think itâs super cool. All of them think magic is invaluable, after all, and canât imagine why Whumpee would cover up the markings it causes.
They ask a few questions here and there (after all theyâve never heard of magic doing that before) and Whumpee gives vague answers that are enough to satiate their curiosity.
Some time after a strenuous mission, Whumpee panics about the markings spreading. The team assume Whumpee is insecure about how they look, so comfort them by saying how much they love the markings.
Whumpee starts to cover up less, however this leads to disaster when the team encounter a fellow spellcaster and Whumpee doesnât have a cloak or anything to hand.
To the teamâs surprise, the spellcaster is horrified because oh my god what the hell happened to Whumpee?? Are they ok??? How the hell are they alive????
That day, the team find out that magical markings arenât, in fact, normal, and are clear cut signs of magic actively harming the user. Whumpee had been covering them up because they didnât want anyone to think they were weak.
This entire time, Whumpee had been actively rotting because of their magic, and the signs had been right there for all of the team to see. And they didnât know any better.
Whumpees who have to stay strong straight after the whump because theyâre the only person who can complete a specific task.
Thereâs a strict deadline to find or escape Whumper and Whumpeeâs the only one who can give them enough details about them to ensure a victory.
Medic whumpees having to explain to the rest of their team how to treat their wounds because theyâre far too injured to do it themselves but the team have no medical experience.
Powerful whumpees being the only person capable on the team of taking down the enemy, even though theyâre severely injured.
Caretakers injured on a rescue mission that just have to keep pushing through because what Whumpeeâs going through is infinitely more painful than this.
Magic whumpees being the only ones who know a certain spell or ability having to perform it even though itâll likely exacerbate their injuries further.
Whumpeeâs already extremely wounded and traumatised, but they still have to be used as bait to lure Whumper into a trap because thereâs no other solution to capturing them. Everyone worries that if their plan went South, Whumpee wouldnât be strong enough to fight back.
Just. Characters who donât get to collapse into their loved ones arms just yet. Freedom and safety is in sight, itâs almost there, but they just have to keep pushing through just this one last time and then theyâll get their rest.
Here's a fun way to torture or even execute your whumpee if you have access to an ocean: bind them to a post in the rising tide and wait for the waves to drown them.
At first, the tide is low enough that the main unpleasantness comes from exposure to the elements. Whumpee's skin becomes sunburnt. Ocean spray soaks their clothes, then leaves them shivering. Salt water stings at open wounds.
Slowly, over hours of increasing discomfort, the tide rises. It splashes Whumpee's shoulders, then their neck, then their face. They can't move; all they can do is brace for each new wave, holding their breath, eyes closed against stinging salt water. They time some of their breaths wrong and the water goes into their nose and mouth, making them cough and splutter.
The ocean is a forceful thing. Each wave pushes Whumpee backward, battering them within their restraints. If they weren't tied upright, they'd be pushed over. The worst is waves breaking against them, a rush of foam and noise and pressure.
The tide grows higher, and Whumpee knows they will drown soon. Yet each brief respite between waves keeps them clinging to consciousness. They choke on bitter seawater and wish they could just close their eyes and go. A splash in the face forces them awake again. Their lungs burn for the scattered breaths of air even as they become rarer.
Is Whumpee rescued before the water closes over their head for good?
(this post brought to you by The Three Musketeers II: Milady [imdb page has like 2 images of the scene] and my experience swimming in the ocean for the first time in ages)
you can also bury them up to their neck in sand!
if you donât have access to restraints strong enough
Especially if you donât want them to escape! That was an execution tactic by pirates and the mythbusters tested it in both wet and dry sand. In wet sand, with the tide and ocean water close by, itâs basically impossible to get out. The water refills any holes you are able to make with sand; so even if someone showed up to help rescue them in time it would still be very very very difficult to get them out.
(Tory was unable to escape from the wet sand and they had to let him out with the safety quick release. Itâs a pretty interesting episode! I think itâs been uploaded to YouTube as well. The pirate episode.)
Here's a fun way to torture or even execute your whumpee if you have access to an ocean: bind them to a post in the rising tide and wait for the waves to drown them.
At first, the tide is low enough that the main unpleasantness comes from exposure to the elements. Whumpee's skin becomes sunburnt. Ocean spray soaks their clothes, then leaves them shivering. Salt water stings at open wounds.
Slowly, over hours of increasing discomfort, the tide rises. It splashes Whumpee's shoulders, then their neck, then their face. They can't move; all they can do is brace for each new wave, holding their breath, eyes closed against stinging salt water. They time some of their breaths wrong and the water goes into their nose and mouth, making them cough and splutter.
The ocean is a forceful thing. Each wave pushes Whumpee backward, battering them within their restraints. If they weren't tied upright, they'd be pushed over. The worst is waves breaking against them, a rush of foam and noise and pressure.
The tide grows higher, and Whumpee knows they will drown soon. Yet each brief respite between waves keeps them clinging to consciousness. They choke on bitter seawater and wish they could just close their eyes and go. A splash in the face forces them awake again. Their lungs burn for the scattered breaths of air even as they become rarer.
Is Whumpee rescued before the water closes over their head for good?
(this post brought to you by The Three Musketeers II: Milady [imdb page has like 2 images of the scene] and my experience swimming in the ocean for the first time in ages)
TAT: two characters are captured and one of them, the stronger one, always takes the beating for his weaker friend. until one day the stronger one is taken away and hurt in such a way that he's shaky and unresponsive in the corner of the cell until their captor's come back to hurt him as usual. except this time the weaker friend takes it for him knowing his friend can't handle it but maybe he can
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Staring at the ceiling, unable to move, unable to think, unable to do anything.
Crying and screaming, not being able to deal with it anymore, but also not being able to get away from it.
Breathing through it and feeling some relief. Okay. I can do this. I'm still in control. I can still handle this. Just breathe. Just focus on your breathing.
Breathing through it and feeling no relief at all. Slowly losing your grip on your coping mechanisms. Decending into panic and desperation. Hyperventilating.
Doing okay with the pain until one small extra thing suddenly completely sends you over the edge.
Rocking back and forth. Trying to sooth yourself and distract yourself. Fidgeting. Biting your lip. Bitting your nails.
Pulling on your hair to create new pain to distract you from the existing one.
Getting dizzy and nauseous just from the pain.
Drifting in and out of consciousness. Welcoming the softening edges of the pain as you're slowly drifting off.
Constant chronic pain that might not be that severe but becomes completely overwhelming to your mind simply because its always there.
Sharp unexpected blunt pain that suprises you and makes you yell out, all of your brain consumed by the sudden wave of agony as adrenaline rushes through your system and you're awareness completely shrinks to the sensation or the injury.
Nervously preparing yourself for pain that's about to come. Trying really hard to stay calm. Trying to remember what helps you get through it. Trying not to give into the rising panic in your chest.
Ok, so one of my favorite fantasy tropes is psychic powers. Clairvoyance, telepathy, telekinesis, all that good stuff. So, what about psychological torture, but with psychic powers?
Clairvoyant Whumpee that has painful visions (a classic)
Clairvoyant Caretaker knowing when Whumpee will be taken/hurt (maybe even die?) and not being able to stop it
Whumper can invade Whumpee's dreams and turn them all into nightmares
Whumpee can cause nightmares and accidently does so to Caretaker
Whumper can induce hallucinations and make Whumpee start doubting reality
Whumper and Whumpee (and/or Caretaker) are both/all telepaths and having a "psychic battle" (what that means is up to you to decide)
Scientist Whumper forcing Whumpee to use their powers for longer than they should
Living weapon with psychic powers (need I say more?)
Whumpee (or anyone really) that can't control their powers and it affects anyone that gets close to them (Ex. headaches, hallucinations, immense sense of dread, feeling of being watched)
And more "rare" powers, such as Chlorokinesis (the ability to control plants, like Poison Ivy from Batman) and Technopathy (the ability to control electronics) have LOADS of potential that I wish to see more of in whump. Seriously, like their are so many different ones, get creative! Anyway thanks for coming to my hyperfixation tell your friends about us
Something I thought about the other day: A world where people can be psychically linked, but a link between two people is rare. Maybe it has to be carefully engineered under specific conditions; maybe only a handful of people have psychic potential; maybe it only happens between twins, or between soulmates...
Either way, psychic pairs are very useful in espionage.
Send one out into the field, keep the other in base to relay information to and from the field agent. Some basic mechanics, with whumpy purposes:
They can't reliably hide anything from one another along the link.
They're empathetically linked, and feel one another's pain.
So of course, you can have things like the field agent getting captured and tortured by the enemy, and their counterpart worried desperately for them, while feeling their pain like it's their own, and yet - they're the only shot their team has at finding the field agent.
Or you can go a living resource/exploitation whump route. Forced into service, the person who's kept back at base used as a hostage to keep the field agent coming back. Dehumanised as your typical "agent", "asset", etc, for the field agent, and something like "comms" or "reciever" for the hostage; viewed as nothing but a link to and leash on the field agent. The drama of knowing everything that goes through one another's heads, and deciding what to report or withhold, especially if they're either very close or bitter enemies. Or... if one of them is loyal and the other hates their superiors? I like throwing some tension into their dynamic.
And as for that "leash"... ever wished you could hurt your living weapon/assassin/spy whumpee without actually injuring them and affecting their performance? Boy do we ever have the empathic link for you!
Also, a fun thing about pain-sharing, if you make them feel one another's pain along the link but at reduced intensity, that's very useful for things like "one of them still able to run and fight and rescue the other when they're injured" and ALSO... hm. Well. If you're using one of them as a whipping boy for the other :) well :)) um . :) you'd have to go pretty hard. :)
"apprentice not realising how messed up their training is/was" is really A Trope Of All Time.
the saddest thing in the world is the fact that it's so often used as comedy. nothing quite like watching something and getting caught on the Implications while the show laughs at the situation.
it's also excellent if they only realise way later, maybe when they get their own apprentice.
either imagining doing to them what was done to them and being horrified, unable to imagine risking their apprentice's like this - or even without risk, unwilling to distress or hurt them to this point.
or maybe struggling to teach someone. they were "taught" how to "fight" by getting hit until figuring out how not to. they don't know technique.
also excellent when that training did make them better than others. appearing rude or aloof bc they forget what normal people's limitations are. the guilt when they realise people are in pain and can't just ignore it. the guilt when they snidely think 'they could if they just tried harder'.
being unable to let go of habits - they know it's not good, they'd never expect it of anyone but- (poison resistance training my fucking beloved. or sleep deprivation or hunger or literally anything resistance it's so good). absolutely gutted terrified when their apprentice asks to do the same.
Welcome to Whumptember 2026! This is the fourth year of this event and I'm so happy we've all made it here! Whether you just do one prompt or all thirty-one of them, you're amazing!
Main Prompts
"I never wanted you to go through what I did."
black eye | whispered confession | dark alley
"You promised you'd come back."
screaming | haunted | compromised safe house
"Forgive me for what I made you endure."
shackles | whumper turned whumpee | cemetery
"I've lived thousands of years, seen terrible things, the worst the world has to offer. And you terrify me."
clouded mirror | doomed to live | overgrown garden
"It's easier if you just let it happen."
chain dragging on the ground | newly captive whumpee | basement
"Maybe it'll be different this time."
flickering lights | intimate whumper | fancy resturant
"Don't run away from me."
locked doors | overbearing caretaker | whumpee's childhood bedroom
"Don't come back for me, you need to promise you won't come back."
bomb | doomed | not-so-safehouse
"It doesn't have to be like this."
sacred ground | desperation | cracked altar
"Shut up and listen to me! They're going to kill you, find a way out."
bloodied knuckles | villain whumpee | dark hallway
"I'm trying so hard to fix this."
shaking from exhaustion | sleep deprivation | hospital waiting room
"You know you can come to me if you need anything, right?"
cup of tea | reluctant whumpee | cafe
"This is just like last time, isn't it?"
beeping heart monitor | hospital visit | hospital room
"Do you ever think about it? How scared they must've been?"
an old photo | found footage | grocery store
"Were you ever going to tell me?"
burn marks | scar reveal | far from home
"Why'd you come back?"
tear stains | lost hope | homemade dungeon
"What would you do if I wasn't here?"
loaded gun | hero x villain | abandoned building
"I thought you were doing better."
middle of the night phone call | recovering whumpee | bumpy road
"Come back for me?"
interlocked fingers | escape attempt | jail cell
"They're not going to wake up, are they?"
bloodied bandages | fallen in battle | med bay
"You just stood there and watched!"
rope burn | multiple whumpees | courtroom
"I'm so tired."
bloodshot eyes | working themself to the bone | caretaker's house
"If I weren't hereâŚwould you kill them?"
boot to the chest | vengeful caretaker | bloodstained floor
"You're scared of me?"
locked door | sudden realization | against a wall
"It doesn't matter anymore!"
hidden momento | buried past | kitchen table
"I need you to save me. Come back for me andâŚand save me. Please?"
chained wrists | fate worse than death | deserted island
"You promised you wouldn't come back."
broken lock | failed escape | self-made prison
"You have no idea what you put me through."
averted gaze | unrecognizable | busy sidewalk
"Can't you justâŚsit with me for a minute? We don't need to talk."
grounding | silent comfort | stairwell
"Come on, I'm getting you out of here."
fetal position | too weak to move | labyrinth
"What's the point of all this if I can't keep the people I care about safe?"
flower arrangement | doomed to fail | morgue
Alternate Prompts:
Quiet
Anonymous
Heart pounding
"You still don't get it."
Returning to the scene
"I just need some time alone."
Villain turned reluctant Hero
"There's nothing you can do to fix this."
"I don't want to talk about this anymore."
"I wake up every morning and think I'm still there."
"You're useless to me now. There's nothing else we can do."
"You were the only thing I ever cared about in this whole world."
"I think you got so used to the hurt that anything else is too scary to deal with."
Day 17 â We All Make Mistakes: Injury while cooking / Soft wound tending / "Let me take care of you this time."
Care
Medic was busy in the infirmary and had noticed a shadow at the door for quite some time. He knew who sneaked in the hallway, but wanted to wait, till that person said something without being prompted to do so.
It took another 20 minutes till the shadow dared to show himself in the doorframe and tried to clear his throat as quietly as possible. Medic had his back turned, but had to smile for himself, because he was glad, that Youngest finally had the courage to speak up.
Youngest was nearly a month here, but he was still very reserved to sometimes even fearful of all of them. If he needed something he would usually search out Leader. Medic interpreted it as a good sign that he came here.
âMedic?â Youngest spoke in that moment, very quietly and reserved. The addressed turned around, gave him a well-meant smile and answered: âYeah, I am here. Nice of you to come visit me. Can I help you with anything?â
Youngest shuffled with his feed on the ground and didnât even look at him as he faintly whispered: âI.. I am sorry to bother you, Mr. Medic. But Leader said to come to you if I am hurtâŚâ
Now that got Medics attention and he went full business mode. He instantly wanted to go over to Youngest, but the boy instantly made a few steps backwards. Medic stopped his advance and held his hands up. âI am sorry, I didnât want to scare you. Where are you hurt?â
Youngest still looked at the ground while answering: âI.. I was stupid⌠I burned my hand in the kitchenâŚâ
Medic really wanted to ask him, why he didnât say so earlier, but he didnât want to drive the boy away. So instead he said to him: âNo worries, that happens to all of us. Can I take a look?â
Without saying anything, Youngest stretched his arm in Medics direction, without wanting to move any nearer. Medic approached cautiously, taking utmost care to not move too suddenly as if he had to treat a hurt animal.
Carefully he took Youngestâs hand in his own and looked at the burn. It did look bad but nothing he couldnât cure with time and salve. âThanks for letting me have a look. I will put some salve on it and put a bandage on, if thatâs fine with you.â
He explained everything in detail as he worked, keeping up a constant chatter, so Youngest had something other than the pain to concentrate on. At the same time he took utmost care to keep his touches as light and soft as possible.
And as Medic looked in Youngestâs eyes, he thought he saw some tears sparkling. Not from the pain, but because the boy wasnât used to being cared for. Something that Medic was determined to change with time.
Â
481 words
~~~ Author comment: I have the feeling this prompts are getting harder and harder. I am writing for myself, because I have to practice my english, but I sometimes I would really love to get a reaction. Thanks for the people liking <3
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Post whump Whumpee runs a whump blog. They use their experiences as prompts and use their feelings for description. Due to that incredibly detailed and accurate writing, their blog is very well known. If anyone ever asks them how theyâre so good at writing whump they just say they study things related to it.
Despite all their popularity they never write anything about recovery or caretakers. They donât know how to describe it because they never had a caretaker. They managed to make it out of whumperâs clutches but they never made it out of the clutches of loneliness.
prisoner who made some assumptions about the treatment they're getting. based on past experience.
cw: fear of noncon, implied past noncon, military whump <- incredibly tame and self indulgent i am just being careful with tags.
A guard comes to wake him up in the middle of the night and Marcus feels a perfect mix of relief and annoyance. Their prisoner â Otis âhas finally asked for medical assistance, which is why heâs traversing the whole camp at this ungodly hour. He mostly wonders why the man couldnât do this either way earlier, or in six to seven hours.
He has to go all the way to the infirmary, pick up the basics, and then all the other way to the tent theyâve given him. The guard barely look up as he enters, saluting purely on instincts.
Hesitant, fearful eyes meet his when he enters, and Marcus raises the lantern.
âItâs just me. You⌠asked for me?â He raises the basket of bandages and salves heâs dragged through the whole camp for this.
The man nods almost shyly, shuffling a little closer. His voice is soft when he apologises, âI⌠forgive me if I disturbed your sleep, I thought-â His expression stutters for a moment; he bites his lips and it settles on something blank. âI thought you might prefer doing this during the night.â
Marcus would have preferred sleep, and much preferred having some boring report interrupted. He understands, however â there are only so many things you can be accused of doing when meeting an enemy soldier in the middle of the night. He waves the apology away. âNo matter. Though, Iâll warn you, Iâm not a doctor. Anything too serious and Iâll have to call for medical, alright?â
He gets only a nod in response and moves forward slowly. Otis obviously knows what wounds he has, but every one of his moves is hesitant. He starts to take off his shirt, eyes darting between Marcus and the floor. The commander tries to be reassuring. âNothing to be ashamed of, hmm? Nothing I havenât seen before.â
Except itâs a soldier of the Empire and a commander from the kingdom trying to rebel, and that â shockingly â Marcus doesnât usually see his soldiers half naked in the middle of the night to treat their wounds.
Otis lies down, twisting slightly to his side. He keeps his legs pressed together, knees bent just slightly.
With the shirt off, the wound that probably made Otis call for him is immediately apparent. There are- bruises, welts Marcus canât begin to guess the origin of, small burns on the soldierâs arms.
Also. A truly gigantic, gaping, cut on the side of his chest. Crusted blood around and below it where it probably dripped for days, and a redness that suggests infection.
Marcus squints at the wound. He wets a cloth, gently wiping the blood away. The wound looks slightly better without its halo of blood, so he keeps going.
âDid you call because you felt it getting infected?â
Another shy, hesitant nod in response. âThatâs good. We canât have you dying, what would the emperor say.â
The joke doesnât land with a loyal soldier of said emperor. Otis looks at him with â still â those wide, scared eyes of his, looking for all the world like he expects lighting to strike them down right this instant. Marcus forces a smile, muttering an apology.
He reaches for his basket, leaning over Otis. His fingers brush â accidentally, very slightly, barely â the top of the soldierâs thigh.
Immediately the man goes slack, legs skating apart in a move too precise to be mistaken. His eyes close, as well, and Marcus forces himself still. He takes a deep, silent breath, and forces himself to exhale slowly.
âOtis?â
âSir?â Anxiety. Confusion Marcus doesnât want to think about.
âThatâs not going to happen.â
Otis makes a sound of realisation before moving again. His eyes open, dart up for just an instant, and then he grimaces as he twists his wound to get himself to his knees.
Marcus still hasnât moved. He swallows, suddenly feeling very cold. He tries to wet his lips.
âWho- Did someone in this camp made you....â
Otis shakes his head, not meeting his eyes. He almost sounds reassuring when he adds, âYour soldiers are very disciplined, sir. They wouldnât. They respect you.â
Which has nothing to do with not assaulting their prisoner. Should have nothing to do with not assaulting their prisoner. Marcus sighs, gently pushing Otis down so he stops worsening his already terrible wound.
âWould you- After, sir?â
âNever. God, Iâm not going to- Why would you think-â
Marcus bites his tongue, forcing himself to focus on the wound in front of him. Otis doesnât speak while he composes himself, and he loathes the knowledge that itâs out of fear. Ignorance truly is bliss.
âI donât know if this is⌠What you were told about us,â Propaganda. âOr if prisoners in the empire are⌠mistreatedâ which he canât think about because he happens to have friends in imperial prisons, âbut I donât do that. We donât do that.â
He looks up slightly, meeting Otisâs scared but attentive eyes. He tries to force a smile. âThere is⌠an accord, actually. The emperor signed it but. Well. Heâs never respected anything, has he?â He shakes his head before Otis can recite another rote, inane speech about his fucking emperor. âDonât answer that. It- Itâs about how to treat prisoners. Among other things. Says youâre not supposed to rape them.â
He watches Otis swallow, head tilting to the side. Good to know enemy soldiers donât know about the laws regarding war prisoners. Reassuring.
âBut⌠I thought I had your favour, sir. And thatâs why you- why I had all these luxuries.â
Marcus blinks. Once, twice. Remembers to breathe.
ââŚLuxuries?â He almost chokes on the word, eyes quickly scanning the tent. Itâs decent â because basic humane treatment of prisoners â but no one in their right mind would call it luxurious.
Otis swallows again. Marcus would hate to see humiliation or shame on the soldierâs face but the fear he sees there sends another pang of discomfort through his gut. He canât imagine Otis is an exception to the norm.
The soldier wonât meet his eyes.
âThe- the meals? And the- water for cleaning,â biting his lips, âthe blanket?â
Marcus sits back on his haunches, because he needs something solid under him while his mind collapses. He closes his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose.
âThose areâŚluxuries? Food, basic hygiene andâŚâ he clears his throat, âa blanket?â
Otis is looking at him with fear again, in the same position Marcus manhandled him a minute ago, and he kind of feels like marching all the way to the imperial camp and blowing it up. âYou donât⌠provide those to prisoners?â
The soldier shakes his head, hesitates. âHis Exalted Majesty, in His infinite Grace provides⌠the necessities. But, sir, I meant⌠I received a lot of food. And the water was warm. And a blanket isnât-â he bites his lips, like realising pointing out the blanket isnât necessary will make it disappear.
âThose are things prisoners only get when⌠theyâve⌠gained the favour of an officer?â Itâs a very specific turn of phrase, isnât it. He watches Otisâs eyes dart up as the soldier butchers his lips, and a very bad feeling forms in his chest. Thereâs a bit of confusion in there as the man nods, and Marcus doesnât want to ask his next question.
But heâs still an officer of the crown, and getting information from prisoners is part of his duties.
âIs it⌠similar for soldiers?â
Otisâs nod is much less confused, something almost like relief in there â like getting an answer he finally knows the answer to. He hesitates, speaking almost like a confession.
âIt- It shouldnât happen with prisoners, really. Soldiers earn luxuries, but the code says-â maybe he sees something in Marcusâs expression because he suddenly stops talking.
âBut- I-â he has to swallow a few times to get the words out, and Marcus feels physically ill. âI know how to be grateful, sir, I- I genuinely mean to thank you for the- everything youâve⌠granted me.â
Like the blanket. And adequate quantities of food. Marcus doesnât look away from the tear in the tent he probably created with his glare, jaw clenched so hard he worries Otis can hear it grind.
âIâm not the one you have to thank for that, actually.â
Otis looks up sharply with an expression of pure terror and he curses himself for ruining the⌠thing they had. â-the accord. I meant the accord. Medical treatment and human decency and dignity and all that.â
 Itâs such a mess. Heâll have so many things to report. He blinks a few times, forces down all the dark, huge feelings trying to claw their ways out of his chest.
âWhy did you think⌠What have I done to make you thinkâŚâ he canât say it. âBesides the⌠gifts, I mean.â
Otisâs eyes dart up to meet his and- oh joy, thereâs a bit of disbelief in them.
âYou hand-fed me, sir.â
Marcus turns to look at the soldier incredulously. Firstly, there had been a spoon involved, he was sure, then-
âYour hands were bound. Was I supposed to let you, what,â he doesnât want to finish the sentence but the eyes that meet his are wide and expectant and hesitant in a way that rattle him.
âI wouldnât make you eat on the floor with only your mouth, like some sort of- of dog.â Otis looks at him with scepticism and Marcus swallows past the lump that just appeared in his throat.
âOtis. Thatâs⌠inhumane treatment. The goal isnât to be cruel.â Otis shakes his head in a way that feels almost instinctive.
âIâm a prisoner, sir. For the security of the camp, anything goes.â Another rote, repeated sentence. Soon heâll know every mantra the empire beats into their soldier. How wonderful.
âRight.â
Otis looks up at him again. âAnd⌠you spent a lot of time with me, sir. Taking care of prisoners is⌠Itâs not for officers.â
âIâm the only one in the camp who speaks your tongue. And⌠protocols indicate officers should deal with prisoners to limit⌠retaliation.â
The soldierâs mouth make a little âoâ in realisation and Marcus once more feels the urge to blow up the empire and everyone with a shred of power in it.
âI assumed your men were being respectful, sir.â
Because he had claimed the prisoner. Of course. Of fucking course.
âRight.â He clears his throat. Somehow, heâs managed to finish dealing with the wound while fighting through this crisis. âAny other grievous wound?â He even manages to fish out a smile.
Otis shakes his head quietly, looking at him in awe when he hands out a painkiller. Marcus stalks all the way back to his bed.
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