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whump-me-all-night-long · 7 months

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Whumptober 2023 Masterlist

So, this year for October, I'll be doing three stories:

1. Bleeding Leads

Investigative journalist Devin Connally decides to dig a little deeper on philanthropist and millionaire Erik Wildre after receiving a strange note and stumbles across a very dangerous underground world. (TWs: nonbinary whumpee, creepy whumper, captivity, lil dehumanization, normal physical whumpiness, and uh non-con touching *explicitly warned*)

2. Midsummer Nightmare

The second son to the fae king, Ikalos finds a human, farmhand Arne, lost on the outskirts of the forest and, having been bored recently, decides to acquire himself a new pet. (TWs: human whumpee, fae whumper, mind control, compulsion, pet whump, intimate whumper)

3. The Kind Commander

When fresh recruit turned spy Elexandyr Winch gets caught behind enemy lines, the cruel captain Ulysses Hawk takes a liking to him--and uses the guise of "gathering information" to play with his food, and it isn't until the enemy general Kristofer Glass visits that Lex Winch really starts to feel like he's in trouble. (TWs: military whump, systematic whump(?), power dynamics, torture, carewhumper)

Now, for the list of days:

Day 1: Drugging Day 2: Exhaustion Day 3: Isolation Day 4: ALT 18: Misunderstanding Day 5: Kidnapping Day 6: Mind control Day 7: Restrained Day 8: ALT 6: Crying to sleep Day 9: Interrogation Day 10: Branding Day 11: ALT 8: Electrocution Day 12: ALT 9: Forced feeding Day 13: ALT 24: Words carved into skin Day 14: Bleeding through the bandages Day 15: Muzzle Day 16: ALT 11: Suffocation Day 17: “You look a little pale” Day 18: ALT 29: Prison Day 19: Left behind Day 20: Master and servant Day 21: Blood loss Day 22: Punishment Day 23: Begging Day 24: Failed escape Day 25: ALT 30: Silent treatment Day 26: ALT 26: Non-con touching Day 27: Locked away Day 28: Oxygen deprivation Day 29: Bargaining Day 30: Mind games Day 31: ALT 12: Abandoned

Taglists under the cut: (ask if you want to be added)

Bleeding Leads: @panic-whump @cupcakes-and-pain @lonesome--hunter @latenightcupsofcoffee @badluck990

Midsummer Nightmare: @thelazywitchphotographer @whither-wander-whump @theelvishcowgirl @deckofaces @badluck990 @whumperofworlds @cupcakes-and-pain @misspelledwitch @winged-wolf-s-collection-of-arts

The Kind Commander: @theelvishcowgirl @misspelledwitch @i-eat-worlds @shywhumpauthor @the-dump-of-whump

#leigh's masterlist #bleeding leads #midsummer nightmare #the kind commander #whump #whump masterlist

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lanwangjihouse · 6 months

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tag of the week:

@peanutbutter-nutella :

#i think they should have given lan wangji earrings ✳

#lol i imagine that #Uncle's throat will bleed #although we can remember that all the artists playing the leading roles of the Lan clan have pierced ears #uncle and brother first of all #so #tag of the week

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whump-me-all-night-long · 7 months

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Bleeding Leads

AI-less Whumptober Day 5: Kidnapped

Masterlist

TW: minor character death, threatening of minors (brief and not detailed at all), implied/descriptions of torture, damn this makes it sound way worse than it is, I promise this is just more of Devin making Poor Life Choices(TM)

---

Friday rolled around faster than Devin had expected. All day, they had sat at their desk, tapping their foot nervously or twirling a pencil between their fingers or typing, deleting, and retyping the same sentence over and over.

As soon as the clock hit 5pm, Devin was out of the door, a surge of anticipation following them like a cloud.

Getting ready was a blurry haze. One moment, Devin was walking into their cramped apartment, and the next, they were in a cab that idled in front of enormous wrought iron gates with decorative Ws interlocking.

Trembling slightly, Devin paid the driver and got out, waiting until it drove off before heading over to the little intercom box. A buzz sounded as they pressed the button. Fiddling nervously with the straps of their shoulder bag, Devin tried to take some calming breaths and-

“Yes?” A gruff male voice.

“Oh, um, hi. I was invited here. I have an invitation.” Devin waved the card in front of the intercom, unable to tell if it had a camera or not.

There was no reply, just another buzz, but slowly the gates creaked open and Devin, with one look back over their shoulder, headed towards the giant mansion in front of them. Despite the extravagance of the property around them, the driveway, thankfully, was not too long, but still, by the time Devin reached the front door, they were cursing themself for wearing the heeled shoes they had chosen instead of their roughed up Converse.

Devin reached out and knocked on the door with a surprisingly heavy iron knocker shaped like a bear’s head. Waiting anxiously, they tugged at the bottom of their blazer, hoping it was appropriate attire for the evening. They had worn a dove gray pantsuit with a black top underneath (really, it was just a clean tank top, but looked professional enough with the blazer atop) that still fit them relatively well, considering the outfit was from high school.

Jumping slightly at the sound of the door opening, Devin straightened themself, with a neutral smile. The man answering the door was tall, very tall, with tanned skin, dark brown hair, and scary, narrowed eyes. “Can I help you?”

Swallowing, Devin held out the invitation, silently cursing at the way the card revealed the tremors running through their body. “I, um, I have an invitation.”

The man took the invitation wordlessly, studying it intently for several long moments, before stepping aside and opening the door further.

Devin took a cautious step inside, their heel tapping against the shining wooden floor, unable to stop themself from gawking just a little. Directly in front of them were a pair of double doors that seemed to lead into a formal lounge area. Outside of the doors was a sweeping marble staircase that met at the top. Devin couldn’t help but be astonished at the nonchalant display of wealth. Noticing what appeared to be solid gold door handles, Devin’s eyes grew impossibly wider. A single one of those could pay my rent for months!

The man closed the door behind them, the handle clicking shut ominously. Turning away from them, he began down a side hallway.

“Follow me,” the man rasped. “Please.” He seemed almost pained after noticing Devin’s inattention.

Snapping to, Devin followed carefully behind, cheeks burning slightly in embarrassment. They were led down a series of seemingly identical hallways, up a couple flights of stairs and then down a couple flights, until Devin couldn’t possibly have said where they were.

Finally, after a few more minutes of walking in awkward silence, they stopped in front of a thick wooden door, made of shining mahogany. The man rapped out a series of knocks that seemed to be a specific pattern.

Moments later, Devin heard the sound of a lock turning, before a face appeared in the crack of the doorway.

Glancing at Devin for half a second, the man they recognized as Erik Wildre looked to the man that had led them here.

“This is them?” he confirmed quietly, and, at the man’s dip of his chin, a smile broke out on his face, revealing straight white teeth. “Fantastic.”

Turning to Devin, he stuck a hand out, making sure to keep the door fairly closed around him. Devin just caught a glimpse of darkness with flickering shadows as they cautiously accepted the handshake.

Glancing at his watch, Mr. Wildre said, “Well, you appear to be a few minutes early but that’s no problem at all! In fact, why don’t you come on in? I’m just finishing one last thing and then I’m all yours. In fact, I believe what I’m working on may interest your employer.” Turning around, he opened the door wider behind him.

Feeling the heavy gaze of the muscled man behind them, Devin ignored every single instinct in their body and followed inside, barely biting back their gasp as they took in the scene before them.

A man, probably in his late forties or early fifties, hung from his wrists, a pair of manacles hung from a hook in the ceiling. His feet barely brushed against the floor, and one of his shoulders was oddly stretched out, Devin could only assume it was dislocated. Aside from a ripped pair of pants that must have cost a pretty penny originally, the man was naked and nearly every single inch of his skin was covered in markings of some kind. Cuts, burns, bruises. Devin thought they even caught a glimpse of what looked like a brand on the man’s back.

The room around them was dimly lit, with a raging fireplace along the middle of the back wall. Aside from that, there was the concrete flooring that Devin tried to not look too hard at. The walls were covered in instruments of all sorts, some of which Devin couldn’t even begin to guess the purpose of.

Swallowing, Devin glanced behind themself, only to see their guide stepping in behind them and closing the door, cutting off the bright hallway lights. Devin’s heart pounded faster as they heard the sound of a lock clicking closed before the man slipped a small iron key into some interior pocket of his.

Devin jumped slightly as Mr. Wildre addressed them, already staring at the bloodied man with cold eyes. “Mx. Corvin, if you wouldn’t mind stepping aside. I shouldn’t be more than a few more minutes.”

Not needing to be told twice, Devin shuffled backwards until they hit the brick wall behind them, the only one without the terrifying devices hanging along it. They definitely didn’t need to be told to not object to being called the wrong name. Maybe it was a simple lapse in memory?

Devin could only watch, speechless, as Mr. Wildre picked up a bloodied knife, pressing it to the side of the man’s beer belly. Smiling slightly at the man’s resulting flinch and soft whimpering, he spoke, emotionless. “I can do this all evening, Edmund. You know this. But-” he pressed in until a single bead of blood rolled down the man- Edmund’s skin- “you know I can be merciful and end this right now.”

The man, openly sobbing, shook his head weakly. “Wildre!” he gasped, breathless. “You know me! I didn’t do it! I don’t know what happened! It was an ambush, it wasn’t-”

“Shhh,” Mr. Wildre cooed softly, moving the knife up to the man’s chest, digging the tip in right over where Devin was pretty sure the heart was located. “You know how much I hate excuses, Edmund. You were the last one with the drugs and the money. Now, thanks to you, whether through betrayal or stupidity, both are gone and I’ve got the Mordens calling for my blood, crying double-cross.”

The man continued blubbering. “I- I swear, it wasn’t me! It was a trap, I tried to stop, please-”

Mr. Wildre hummed softly under his breath, considering the man before him. “Swear it,” he said finally. “Swear it on your daughters’ lives. On Evelyn and Sophia’s lives.”

The man paused, eyes flashing with fear, and that hesitation was seemingly enough to confirm whatever Mr. Wildre’s beliefs were.

He pressed on, unwavering. “How old are they now? Ten? Eleven?”

“They- they turn thirteen in a few days,” Edmund said hoarsely. “Please, they’re innocent! They have nothing- nothing to, to do with any of this!”

Mr. Wildre blinked, face unchanging. “But, you claim to be innocent, too, don't you, Edmund? So why are you so terrified of swearing it on your daughters’ lives? You said it yourself-” he leaned closer to the terrified man- “you know me, and you know that I always find out the truth in the end.” He tilted his head slightly, going for the killing blow. “So why do you not want me to find out the truth? Is it because you actually did fuck up this badly on accident, or did you accept that bribe that one Leo Pendelton offered you?”

Devin could actually see the blood draining from Edmund’s face as he opened and closed his mouth, gaping like a fish. Finally, letting out a soft sob, he hung his head in defeat. “Please,” he begged. “My girls, they’re innocent, they don’t know anything, please, just don’t hurt them-”

Mr. Wildre scoffed, cutting him off. “What do you think I am? A monster? I don’t kill children.” Disgust dripped from his words as his lip curled condescendingly. Then, before Devin truly had time to register the movement, the knife was flashing upward, slicing deep into Edmund’s neck.

Unable to help themself, Devin leapt backwards, a small scream slipping out of their mouth as they stared in horror at the man hanging before them who was slowly choking to death on his own blood. His body shuddered and red droplets sprayed from his cracked lips. Unable to tear their eyes away from the morbid sight, Devin could only watch as the jerky movements slowly weakened before finally stilling and, with a single glance at his eyes, Devin knew he was dead.

Blinking hard to keep back tears, Devin turned to face Mr. Wildre, who was watching their reaction with a critical eye. Carelessly wiping the bloodied blade on his pants leg, he offered Devin a smile. “Sorry that it got so nasty, Mx. Corvin. Now, you’re here on official business, are you not?”

Devin had to open their mouth several times before they were able to form words. “Yes, apologies. I, um, wasn’t expecting to interrupt… other business tonight. We, ah, we can always reschedule if you would prefer that.” Devin slowly backed up, inching towards the door as inconspicuous as possible, their mind racing too fast for them to process and the only thought they could truly form was getting the hell out of there as fast as possible. Then, Devin bumped into the door sooner than they expected, and the door was oddly warm, and not smooth, and-

Fuck my life.

Slowly turning their head, Devin saw the muscled man standing in front of the door, blocking it easily with his large frame.

“Going somewhere?” Mr. Wildre’s dry voice asked.

Trying to remain breathing, Devin slowly turned to look back at him. “Apologies. I, um, my employer didn’t necessarily pre-prepare me for this.” They waved a shaking hand at the corpse, still hanging just feet away.

“Hmm,” Mr. Wildre said noncommittally. “And your employer is…?”

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

Giving a weak smile, Devin held their hands up in a non threatening gesture. “Listen, I think there might have been an accidental miscommunication here. I think I might have gotten the, the time or, um, the address wrong. So I think, I’m just going to head out, and call it a night. My, um, my lips are sealed.” Devin gulped, glancing between the two men bracketing them in.

“I’m only going to ask this one time, love,” Mr. Wildre said softly, almost tenderly, if Devin didn’t know any better. “Who the fuck are you?”

---

Taglist: @ailesswhumptober @panic-whump @cupcakes-and-pain @lonesome--hunter @latenightcupsofcoffee @badluck990

#ailesswhumptober2023 #leigh writes #bleeding leads #devin connally #erik wildre #whump #whump writing #minor character death #implied torture #implied minor whump

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astriiformes · 1 year

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My little sister is on her high school golf team, which is already really funny because she does not have the vibes or personality you would expect of a golfer, but she the other day she sent me a picture of her senior student athlete poster and the energy is so incredible. It's got her in her little polo shirt and glove and everything except instead of coming across as cute suburban golf girl she looks more like the sullen frontwoman of a sapphic grunge band.

Please picture a tiny Korean girl with half her hair dyed hot pink, a bunch of ear and nose piercings, eyebrows filled in with sharp red and black liner and a slit shaved into one of them, and a deeply unimpressed expression on her face, standing there in a golf uniform with a club slung over her shoulder looking more like she's about to hit you with it than she is a golf ball.

#it's so funny to me that somehow my very average centrist parents who made a point of living in boring middle class suburbia #somehow managed to raise three raging bleeding-heart socialist hippie queers in spite of themselves #which has also lead to. some very funny intersections #from what i've heard my little sister shows up all the men at the driving range with some frequency #which is a mental image that always delights me. suburban golf guys destroyed by one (1) powerful bisexual #i love her; i'm looking forward to seeing her soon #even if it's wild to think about her graduating high school -- that's my baby sister!!

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tennessoui · 7 months

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woke up this morning and i was like huh how much of the story would it change if in playmaker au obi-wan wasn't an undercover detective but a journalist who goes undercover both to get a story and then also because his father, police chief, asks him to help because anakin would never see them putting a journalist on the case 👀

#playmaker au #this would be a for ao3 fic change of course #to make it oh so confusing for everyone #lol #but also mainly if obi-wan was an undercover journalist #there's an added layer of he already disappointed his dad by not being a detective #and also he accepts the undercover work because he wants to make qui-gon proud #but mainly then i could use the title: bury the lede #or #if it bleeds it leads #which are both just perfect imo

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extremelyputridfishbreath · 7 months

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honestly this isn't like, to say herbert is super niceys in canon BUT. i feel like if he actually succeeded in bombing the player, rookie, gary (and likely dot as well- i dont remember if the original epf command room was destroyed when the psa hq was) he'd probably not feel 100% happy about it. murder is in fact, a big deal! and while i'm not saying he'd instantly regret it i wouldnt be surprised if he'd feel SOME kind of way if he did succeed, even if he was mostly like "YAAAAY THOSE ANNOYING BIRDS ARE FINALLY DEAD". like yknow, even if i write my herbert to be Meaner and Nastier post blackout its not like i see even my herbert and especially not canons as someone who is Only Evil All The Time, i genuinely think this man would be at least slightly conflicted once the whole 'i actually succeeded in killing them' thing kicked in. and while he was obviously thrilled to bits about taking over the island and freezing the epf's leads, freezing them isn't exactly the same as killing them since as we know, even though it can have negative effects like gary saying he'd been having medical issues after being dethawed it's not permanent like being Killed-

#idk its just fun to explore. which is one reason why the ghost!rolly au exists #he finally gets what he wanted. he finally got rid of rolly for good (or so he initially thinks). but freezing agents and trapping them #with a bomb or on a mountain (to a /rocket/ in jpg's case) is different than seeing the results in Front of you...#because yeah. he gets to see the lead's frozen faces as much as he wants during blackout. but theyre not DEAD. if he ever #wanted out of sudden regret or just to taunt them for failing to save the island he could easily dethaw them for it.#he can't bring them back if they REALLY die. and even with the popcorn bomb #if gary rookie the player and dot (and i guess jpg if you count the ds version) all died to the bomb he wouldn't SEE the result in front of #him. he doesn't have to see the result of his actions beyond the wreackage of the sports shop or perhaps a particularly sad club penguin #times issue. but causing rolly to bleed out in front of him? Ruh Roh mr esquire doesnt feel so good seeing his worstie in fatal peril #suddenly it doesn't feel great to have his white paws be blood red!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#idk like i said i just rotate this around a lot. its fascinating how herbert will say he just wants to 'defeat' the epf and not destroy it #during his brief tenure working with protobot...a year after the popcorn explosion. what happened herby #did you realize it would've been bad to kill three people (again dot too but he didnt know she was there).#did you realize murder is not okay? :)

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