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whumpshaped · 3 months

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love the idea of multiple whumpees, but whumpee A has been there much longer than whumpee B, and is pretty much already a broken husk by the time B even gets there.

A just sort of stares vacantly ahead whenever whumper isn't directly demanding their attention, so lifeless that B would have thought they were dead if they couldn't see them blinking and breathing.

initially, B keeps their distance from A, unnerved by how completely and utterly broken they seemed. but as their captivity continues, they become so desperate for the touch of someone who won't harm them that they snuggle up to A whenever they can, and talk to them about all their worries and idle thoughts, even though they never say anything back and B wonders if they even hear them at all.

maybe B's company starts to bring A back to reality, ever so slowly. or maybe B is just clinging for emotional support to someone who's well and truly gone.

(these are just placeholder names not real ocs. arin and bee are stand ins for character a and b)

tw multiple whumpees, lady whumpee, fear of death, captivity, past trauma, beating, conditioning, dehumanisation, attacked by animals (referenced)

“I thought they’d never stop,” Bee whispered, hugging her only friend tighter. “They were so angry. They said they’d kill me, and… and I believed them. I thought I was done for. I thought that was the end of the rope for me.”

As usual, Arin didn’t respond. She stared at the ceiling, looking like she hadn’t even heard her. The only reason Bee was sure Arin could hear at all was because she responded to commands from their captor.

Bee knew all that she knew about Arin through their captor, actually. The poor thing had never spoken a word in her presence before, not to introduce herself, not to protest when she hugged her, nothing. She never even responded to Darian, and they didn’t seem to mind or be disturbed by it, so maybe this was normal. Maybe it wasn’t the trauma that stole her voice away. Bee would never know, it seemed like, unless she felt suicidal enough to question Darian about it.

“I don’t know what made them change their mind in the end… Maybe they just got tired of hitting me. I don’t know. I scurried out of there as soon as they left an opening, and they just didn’t follow.”

Sometimes she felt bad for dumping all this on Arin. She’d clearly gone through a lot to have ended up so… hollow. So utterly unresponsive, even to slapping and kicking. Darian barely even punished her, probably because there was no sign of it changing anything. Arin never apologised, never made a sound, and never changed her behaviour. She was perfectly obedient to begin with, and any mistake she made that was worthy of a punishment was the result of nothing but accidents. There was nothing to change.

And the thing was — Bee had no one else. Arin was her only companion, the only one to talk to who didn’t hurt her for it. It was a little like talking to her favourite plush toy, as mean as that sounded. It brought her immense comfort in a place where she knew nothing but suffering.

“I… Maybe I’m dumb for running back here instead of trying the front door. It could’ve been unlocked this time, and I’d never know.” She nuzzled against Arin, tears pricking her eyes. “But I thought— I thought, ‘I have to protect Arin. I can’t just try to leave, and, and leave her with this angry monster’. So I ran back here.”

Honestly, Bee knew there was nothing for her outside. There were fields, woods… Darian’s hunting dogs. She’d tried to run before; the bites had left some nasty scars on her legs, not to mention the pain that she’d learned to live with since then.

She sighed and pulled away. “You know—” She stopped in her tracks, eyes widening. “Arin?”

Arin was looking straight at her, big, usually empty eyes now filled with tears and sorrow beyond measure. She looked… touched. Was it the story? Was it that she’d come back, trying to protect her?

“Oh, sweetheart.” Bee pulled her right back into an embrace, not even bothering with questions. Arin looking at her might’ve been the biggest step she’d taken towards interacting with her so far, but Bee had no illusions about the future of their relationship. Arin wasn’t just going to start monologuing. “Of course I came back. Of course. I’ll always come back for you.”

#asks #whump #whump drabble #multiple whumpees #lady whumpee #fear of death #captivity #past trauma #beating #conditioning #dehumanisation #attacked by animals #comfort

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dresden-syndrome · 2 months

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I'm back comrades👌

I've always drawn suffering state enemy boys before but I'm in a big lady whump mood now... So here's a sneak peek into my all-female AU (basically EESU being ruled and opposed by girls) - more precisely, my favorite ladies out there😂

Class 4 counter-revolutionary political offender SB-7067 (Radmila Štušková) and Minister of State Security Elfriede Wilhelmina Günther. There they are.

Sorry for such a long break! I really needed some motivation to continue working. Don't worry comrades, EESU isn't going anywhere :)

Art tag: @painful-pooch @prismpanic @generic-whumperz @suspicious-whumping-egg @onlywhump @whumpedydump @whumpthefifth @monarchthefirst (please let me know if you wanna be added too!)

#whump #whump community #whumpblr #historical whump #military whump #totalitarian whump #pet whump #lady whumpee #lady whump #female whumper #female whumpee #whump art #whumpee #whumper #whump oc #whump ideas #captive whumpee #whump stuff

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chaotic-orphan · 2 months

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Hiiii !!!!

May I please request where you write a story where a villain whumps a hero into loving and obeying them but then it backfires and the hero is a toxic lover and whumps villain outta possessive and obsessiveness ?

Thanks if you do !!! Your writing is literally SOOOO fire girlie 😭🔥🔥🔥🔥 I’ve literallyy been eating up the febuwhump prompts

Twisted Love

TW: lady Whump, lady Whumpee, male Whumper, yandere Whumper, intimate Whumper, creepy Whumper, hero Whumpee, villain Whumper, Whump love, but not consensual at all, kidnapped hero,

Please lmk if I missed any tags! 🙏

@xxgalgurlxx what a fun prompt! Thank you so much! It’s a series, I’m sorry, I can’t fit it all into one snippet!

*~*~*~*~*

Hero had just gotten back to her feet when her eyes trained on Villain raising his arm in front of him, fingers splayed. Hero didn’t have time to react as she was slammed backwards into the brickwork at the end of the alley. She let out an involuntary gasp, her back and ribs aching from the force of the impact.

Her mind was like sludge, moving too slow to react to Villain’s easy onslaught of attack after attack. Not to mention his stupid telekinesis that made everything he did effortless. Every fight easily won.

Villain didn’t even let Hero fall to the ground, instead she was held against the wall, feet dangling a few inches above the ground, arms flailing uselessly to attack Villain’s hold. She might as well have been fighting air, but Villain’s bone crushing grip didn’t feel like air. It felt like Hero was being squashed from every side, like Villain was squeezing a grape between his fingers.

“Give up yet?” Villain asked politely, advancing on Hero after Hero seized struggling, but it was all false. Everything about Villain was false. The politeness was just another layer of smug that Hero hated.

“Yeah, keep talking. You just know you couldn’t win in a real fight.”

The hand holding Hero squeezed tighter until Hero gasped out in pain, curling in on herself.

“I could just watch you all day,” Villain hummed appreciatively. He stopped two feet away from Hero, a passive smile on his face but his eyes… Villain’s eyes looked hungry and full of something that Hero couldn’t quite discern.

Hero threw her arm forward. Glinting metal turned over metal in the moonlight and stopped mid air, just in front of Villain’s cheek.

Villain smiled and tsked, grabbing the knife by the handle and turning it between his fingers with a dramatic sigh.

“That wasn’t very nice Hero,” Villain said, gently scolding her. His smirking eyes dancing with dark promise as be said, “someone should really teach you some manners.”

Another invisible hand grabbed both of Hero’s and pinned them against the wall. Hero jerked forward, trying to free herself but she had no grip on anything! She couldn’t even gain purchase on the ground because her feet were hovering above it.

Hero let out a frustrated groan as she kicked out, trying to dislodge herself in anyway. Villain’s eyes lit up at Hero’s renewed struggles.

“So feisty. So persistent,” Villain whispered. He was standing in front of Hero now and Hero blinked back her surprise, stifling a gasp. When had that happened? Villain grazed the tip of her knife from the center of Hero’s palm up her wrist and arm. Hero’s breath hitched when the cool blade touched her skin. “I bet I could make you grovel.”

That sent a shiver down Hero’s spine that she tried her damnedest to suppress. Wait, Villain was so close. Hero kicked out at Villain, but again, just before her feet made contact something caught Hero round the ankles and yanked them down.

Hero slid down the wall with a surprised yelp, eyes wide as her feet touched the ground and grew stuck there, her entire body immobile against the dusty brickwork behind her. Villain was taller than her, Hero realised as she swallowed, staring at Villain’s chest.

Villain brought Hero’s own knife up her shoulder and then throat, before pressing the flat of the blade up under Hero’s chin. The tip biting into her neck as he tilted Hero’s chin up to stare into Villain’s eyes, which sent a rush of ice through Hero’s veins.

Something primal in the back of her mind told her to run, to flee, to get out of there. That Villain was dangerous and a threat to her continued survival.

“God, look at you,” Villain hummed. With his free hand he reached up to cup Hero’s cheek, thumb stroking over Hero’s cheekbone. Hero did shiver at that, and jerk her arms back trying to escape the unrelenting invisible hold. “You are magnificent. That little spark of defiance in your pretty little eyes, the fear…”

“Get off of me, you creep!” Hero spat, trying to turn her head away from Villain, mostly to just stop looking at that dangerous glint in his smirking eyes. Villain didn’t let her turn an inch. The moment Hero’s head twitched to move, Villain brought the flat of her blade up to Hero’s other cheek, stopping her from moving.

“You know what Hero?” Villain said, leaning his face in close to Hero’s. Hero pressed her head against the wall, trying to get away from him, but Villain kept leaning in nonetheless until his lips were inches from Hero’s. Hero let out a quiet, powerless whine in the back of her throat, her heart thundering against her chest. Villain smiled, bone chilling and cold. “I think I’ll take you home with me.”

Hero’s stomach bottomed out. “No!”

Villain leaned in closer and for a breath-stealing moment, Hero thought Villain was going to kiss her. Instead Villain pressed his lips against Hero’s ear. Delighting in the shiver she couldn’t fight.

“Yes, little Hero. You’ll be my greatest prize. I’ll keep you suspended like this, like a trophy. Maybe in the entrance hall.”

“No,” Hero whispered, trembling against the telekinetic hold. The only thing that stood between Hero and her freedom. She flinched when she felt tears fall onto her cheeks. “Let me go, please,” Hero sniffed.

Villain pulled back, a grin on his face. “Now why would I do that, Hero?”

Villain stepped back, leaving a little distance between them, not as much as Hero would like, but enough. She couldn’t stop shaking, and she hated herself for it. Adrenaline was rushing through her veins like bolts of electricity, trying to feed Hero’s muscles and give her strength to flee, to fight, to escape.

It all just sat useless below the surface.

Villain let Hero’s knife swing down from her cheek and reached his hands forward. Hero slammed her eyes shut and looked away waiting for the blow to come.

Instead, a deep, rumbling chuckle sounded in front of her. Hero risked opening her eyes to see Villain sliding Hero’s knife back into its sheath on her thigh. His fingers lingering on Hero’s thigh. It made bile climb up Hero’s throat.

“Please, don’t touch me,” Hero pleaded, her voice so broken. So light. So terrified. Bargaining with a Villain!

Villain’s fingers drew up to Hero’s waist and lingered there. “Hero. Look at me.”

Hero refused. She kept her gaze stubbornly on the wall of the alley. Until that invisible hand was on her cheek and turning her head, against her will, to face Villain.

She swallowed and mustered up all her hatred into her glare when she met his dark eyes. Villain let out a breath, that same sickening smile on his face.

The snap of her cuffs being unclipped from her belt drew her attention down, but the invisible hand pushed her head back up to look at Villain. She let out a frustrated groan to his laughter.

“Come on, Hero. I can’t have you fighting me on the way home.”

“Go to hell!” Hero spat.

Villain grinned a lazy grin. “Only if you come with me, sweetheart.”

Villain reached his hand up to Hero’s wrist pinned to the wall, taking his sweet time in opening the cuffs. Hero knew what she was going to do before Villain even touched her. The moment he let the hold slip she was going to bolt for it. Slap him, push him, distract him, something. If she could reach her knife—

Villain put a hand on her wrist and she felt the telekinetic hold loosen. She shoved forward with all her strength. Villain’s eyes went wide, gaze cutting into her face but she just needed that moment of surprise. She felt the hold drop completely and she ducked under his arms, grabbing her dagger from it’s sheath and cutting Villain’s knee as she surged forwards.

Villain cried out behind her but Hero didn’t care. She didn’t have time to care. She had to make it to the mouth of the alley before he got his bearings. She felt the adrenaline surge in her calves, her lungs taking in more air, her heart beating more blood.

A hand caught her ankle. Hero was thrown forward by her own momentum, hands out to brace her fall. Her palms grazed against the stone, but she was already twisting her body, turning, expecting Villain to still be at the end of the alley. She could throw her dagger again and catch him.

It all went so well in her head.

She gasped when she saw those brown eyes up close. He was above her, knees on either side of her waist that pinned her beneath his body.

He didn’t look angry, just sickly entertained. He didn’t use his telekinesis. He used his own hands to pin her wrists to the ground above her head. She cried out when he slammed her dagger wielding hand against the pavement, once, twice, three times— again and again until finally she dropped it with a clatter.

“No!” She cried, struggling beneath him but he didn’t take his time this time. He snapped the cuffs open and the weight settled cold against her wrist. She could feel her powers draining, muting under the power dampeners. “No! Get off me! HELP! Somebo—”

Villain clamped his hand over her mouth, leaning his weight down onto it. She cried out, her free hand going to his, trying to dislodge it.

“A hero crying for help?” He asked with a smirk. “How ironic.”

Escape be damned. For one second she wanted to wipe that smugness off his stupid face.

She stopped fumbling with his wrist and instead slammed her hand up, palm first and aimed for his throat, his stupid adam’s apple.

Her hand stopped an inch away. Eyes widening as she watched it tremble. Villain pressed a kiss to her palm, then her wrist while Hero was powerless to push up or pull back. She let out a frustrated moan in the back of her throat as he laced his fingers through hers.

“Oh you are going to be so much fun,” Villain said, his eyes half lidded, smirk still on his face as he gazed down at Hero. “Now, are you going to promise not to scream or are you going to force me to knock you out?”

Hero huffed a breath out through her nose and Villain removed his hand.

“I won’t scream.”

Villain tilted his head. “Now why don’t I trust you?”

“Probably because you’re currently kidnapping me, you bastard!”

“Kidnapping makes it sound so romantic doesn’t it?”

Hero bucked her hips under him, revelling in the slight widening of his eyes at her sudden movement. Hero clicked her fingers and her knife summoned back into her palm. Hero had only a second to enjoy the familiar feeling before Villain was off her and yanked Hero to her feet.

Villain slammed the knife out of her palm, but she didn’t even have time to mourn the loss of it when Villain yanked her back, spinning her so her back was to his front.

Villain grabbed her free hand and wrestled it back into the other cuff, as if she wasn’t struggling at all. The sound of the cuff clicking closed was like the final nail in her coffin.

She froze for a moment, not being able to feel her knives around her. The weight of them on her body was a small mercy. It was such an uncomfortable feeling. As if her arm had just been severed, a limb taken from her.

It took a breath for her to acclimatise. Then she cried out in anger and slammed her head back. It connected with Villain’s chest, not even relishing the surprised breath she stole from his lungs she hook her leg around the back of his and slammed her head back again so they went to the ground. She rolled the minute his back hit the ground and got to her feet with a little difficulty.

She didn’t even have time to think of running before she felt that giant invisible hand grab her and pick her up, leaving her dangling useless in the air.

Villain was on the ground, turned on his side, elbow bent, propping his head up on his palm. That stupid smirk in his stupid eyes.

“Honestly, it would be wise of me to knock you out, but you struggle so beautifully that it would be a crime to not watch you try and stop me on the way home.”

“I’m going to kill you,” Hero promised.

Villain flashed her a grin. “I look forward to it.”

Villain was on his feet in a second, Hero’s knife in one hand. He gestured his hand down and Hero sunk to the ground in front of him.

“Now, open wide.”

Hero frowned at him. Villain grinned and pointed at his cheeks. “Say aah!”

Hero didn’t know what he wanted her to do, but she damn sure wasn’t going to do it if he wanted her to.

He placed his thumb over her lips and pulled down. “Come on now, Hero. Play nice.”

Hero opened her mouth to bite him but instead Villain pushed the hilt of her dagger into her mouth. Before she could spit it out she felt his real hand and his invisible one slam her chin up, forcing her to bite down on the handle.

“Hold that for me, will you?”

“Oohk—” she began but coughed as her tongue got caught around the hilt.

“Oh, be careful, Hero. Wouldn’t want you to choke now, would we?”

Hero wanted to scream, she wanted to fight. She wanted to be able to move her body and open her mouth, but she didn’t get any of that, not with Villain in front of her.

Villain put a hand on her arm, sliding down to rest on her wrist and steered her forward towards the mouth of the alley. “You are going to simply adore the boot of my car.”

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avvail-whumps · 22 days

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Royal Bought #7: Thorns and Roses

previous · masterlist

content warnings: vampire whump, lady whumper, multiple lady whumpees, conditioned whumpees, defiant whumpee, hypnosis, manhandling,

Luke gently ran a hand over the front of his shirt, feeling the outline of the necklace there against his palm, completely hidden. Lillia gently buttoned up the last button, her eyes flitting up to his for a moment, before she stepped backwards.

He wanted to thank her again, his heart twisting slightly from the relief, but it went unspoken.

With Lillia leading the way, he was taken back to Ileana, who seemed to have seated herself at the wooden desk, her intense eyes pinning Luke to the spot as soon as he crossed the threshold.

“We’re finished, my Lady,” Lillia smiled sweetly, and Ileana rose to her feet, smoothly and gracefully, coming towards them. Luke steeled himself to the ground, watching as those pointy fingers gently carressed the bottom of Lillia’s chin, almost making her purr.

“Thank you, my darlings,” she cooed, giving Luke a slow once over. He was suddenly aware of how heavy his necklace was on his collarbone. The girls didn’t seem worried. Ileana’s lips spread into a sly smile, stepping up close to him and invading his space. She seemed to anticipate that he would take a step back, because her long, slender fingers suddenly snapped to his jaw, keeping him still. The sharp fingernails dug into his flesh, and he bit back a painful hiss.

“Much better,” she hummed, jerking his head to the side and inspecting him. The pointy nails were going to leave crescent shaped dents on his skin, he was sure. “You look far more appealing when you’re not caked in dirt, aren’t you?”

Luke huffed through gritted teeth, face twisted into a snarl. He tried to say something, demand she get her filthy hands off him, but her grasp just tightened, squishing his cheeks. It was like he was a child, and humiliation and resent stabbed at his chest.

“Ah, ah,” Ileana purred, her eyes narrowing. “I have plenty of other humans to take care of before the end of the day. Why don’t you be a good boy and get some rest? I’m sure it’ll be much easier to take everything in if you’re well rested.”

Luke gave another sharp grunt, twisting his fingers into her wrist in some attempt to get her hands off him. The pressure was making his jaw throb, like it might snap out of place, blinking back the automatic tears that stung his eyes. He could feel his neck being forced into place, twisted up at an awkward angle, and it was hard for him to look anywhere but her eyes. When he screwed his shut, Ileana gave him a hard tug. A gasp tore from his throat at the stinging pain, eyes flying open.

“I said,” the vampire murmured, and Luke was suddenly falling through tunnels of blinding red. “Why don’t you be a good boy, and get some rest?”

Luke’s breath was suddenly caught in his throat, and when Ileana’s fingers released him, he found he couldn’t quite look away. His head was going all fuzzy and heavy, his thoughts were battling for control, and his expression, wide eyed and tightened, was staring up at her. Ileana leaned forward, flashing her fangs as she smiled. He couldn’t even move back.

“That’s right,” she cooed, her voice dripping with honey. It felt like it was wrapping Luke up snugly, coiling him against her whim. “I am sure it’s been such an exhausting day for you. All you should focus on is getting some sleep. Anything of importance will be discussed later.”

This wasn’t anything like Justinian’s compulsion. This was all consuming, sinking into each limb and each shred of muscle, making them completely hers. He didn’t want to believe her, knew that she shouldn’t, but all he could think about right now was the comforting embrace of sleep. How heavy he felt. How exhausted his mind was.

Her silver hair fell past her shoulders as she brushed her hand through his own hair, the feeling tugging at something in his brain. Telling him to obey, telling him this was right. The hand slid to his cheek, and Luke didn’t even realise he was leaning into the touch. Ileana’s vibrant eyes flickered across his face for a moment, as if studying him, but she leaned back, satisfied.

Luke could only remain stood where he was, planting to the spot. He was surprised he wasn’t swaying with her snake-like movement.

“It’s refreshing to feel someone try and fight it,” Ileana hummed absentmindely, sweeping a hand under her chin as she glanced towards the three girls, all of them swiftly looking away, as if they hadn’t been intrigued by Luke’s reaction to the compulsion. Maybe they were expecting him to break out of it. He was trying, he really was.

“Lillia, Brooke.” The two girls lifted their heads obediently. “Could you take him to a room, please? Straight to bed.”

They both nodded their heads, and Ileana stepped back to her desk, letting her girls deal with the rest. The blonde stopped in front of Luke, his vision all fuzzy and his eyelids droopy. His mind could only just process the feeling of her gently taking his hand, and Brooke guiding him by the shoulder. His feet seemed to move smoothly, effortlessly, as if he wasn’t controlling them at all.

Well, he supposed he wasn’t.

His tongue felt too heavy to say anything, and everything was spinning instead.

Beside him, Brooke shifted. Lillia was still holding his hand, helping to guide him through the corridors. Her brows furrowed.

“Lillia…” She murmured, and the blonde girl looked at her, blinking her eyelashes. She tilted her head in curiosity, then glanced down to their hands. She unlinked them, pink lip twitching with a subtle smile.

“Sorry,” she breathlessly answered, her eyes switching to Luke. She slowed a little, making sure his pace was consistent. “He can still walk okay, right?”

Of course I can, Luke wanted to say. Nothing came out. Their conversation was a little fuzzy, and hard to follow when all he wanted to do was drop down on something soft and sleep all of this grogginess away. Brooke hummed, staring at him.

“Yes,” she finally said, shifting her hand from his shoulder. “I suppose he’s not used to a pureblood’s compulsion. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone fall under it so quickly. Not even you.”

Lillia blushed, her brows furrowing in embarrassment. “That’s different.”

They turned a corner.

“Well, regardless,” Brooke continued, but there was still a hint of amusement in her tone. They stopped by a door, and Lillia fished for a key of sorts, inserting it into the lock. She gave it a hard twist, and it creaked open. Luke felt like he was hit with vertigo when they finally stepped inside. “It must have been some life. Living out there, I mean.”

It was a bedroom, it seemed. Not too large, but extravagantly filled. If Luke had been in his right mind, he might have taken a moment to observe. Instead, he felt an overwhelming tug towards the bed, Ileana’s silky voice weaving between all of his thoughts again. There was a moment of silence, before Lillia spoke. Her voice, this time, was a breathless whisper.

“Oh, Brooke,” she murmured. “I feel sorry for him.”

“Lillia, come on,” Brooke sighed. “We’ve tended to so many other humans before this. Why are you so upset?”

Their words were fuzzy, going in and out. He could barely follow it.

“Because…” She paused, her mouth pressing into a thin line. “Out there, it was probably safe, right? He could have lived a life without having to deal with all of this. We got lucky and yet…the things that we went through. What you went through. Out of everyone, he could have been the closest to ever living a normal life out there. How often do you even think he saw a vampire?”

Luke’s chest stabbed once, then twice. The realisation of this conversation was going to barrel into him in the morning. Whenever that was - Luke didn’t even know what time it was right now.

“Should I feel guilty?” Lillia continued, her voice breathless. “Do I even have that right when we’ve done this to so many other humans?”

Brooke suddenly cut in. “Don’t let Ileana hear you saying things like that.”

“She’s been too distracted with Cali,” the blonde murmured softly under her breath, tucking some of her hair behind her ear. Brooke’s eyes didn’t falter from hers, until suddenly, she was smiling slightly.

“Our Lady has her attention elsewhere, and so you move your interests towards the first guy you see?” She teases, her smile suddenly becoming coy. “And you say I’m the jealous one.”

Lillia’s cheeks went bright red. “It’s not like that. I just want to know more about what’s out there. About him. That’s all.”

Luke felt a faint touch on his arm, and just like that, everything was a blur again. His thoughts didn’t even register it this time, lost in the fuzzy sensations that were engulfing him. He felt something comforting beneath him, making him sink further under. He wanted to open his mouth, wanted to say something, but nothing was working. There must have been a slurred murmur on his tongue, because Lillia suddenly paused, grasping the bedsheets.

She glanced at Brooke. “He’s fighting it.”

“It won’t matter,” the other girl simply responded, tugging the bed sheets up instead. “He’ll just have a headache in the morning. Let’s hurry back.”

Luke’s curls splayed out on the pillow, his eyelids fluttering. Lillia and Brooke were simply two blobs in his vision now, fading into a black void as his mind slipped away, drifting off into a peaceful, undisturbed slumber. He didn’t even hear the door close.

. . .

Luke did have something of a headache when he woke up.

He didn’t know how long it had been, but ironically, it was almost as though he’d slept like the dead. Tingles reverberated in his skull as his eyes fluttered open, almost on command. He was lay flat on his back, seemingly just how he’d been left, the soft sheets cool and comfortable over his body.

Luke’s hand flew up to his temple, giving it a tense massage.

Regardless of the tingling sensation through his skull, Luke hated to admit how refreshed he felt. It was almost like the perfect sleep, and it irked him to know he’d been sleeping away so easily while Ten was somewhere out there all alone.

As if on a schedule, there was a click from the door.

The lock, Luke realised, lifting his head to watch as it swung open, and Lillia stepped inside. She was balancing a tray on her hand, a sweet smile spread across her face. Her hair was styled today, curling slightly at the bottom, half up and half down. Luke must have had a scowl on his face when she approached, because her smile faltered a little bit.

“Did you sleep alright?” She asked, placing the tray down on the bedside table with a small clatter. There was a plate of food, something foreign to Luke, and a glass of water. He eyed it wearily, sitting up. “You may have a headache.”

“I’m fine,” he grumbled, feeling the pleasant stretch in his back as he straightened up. No pain. It was as if the sleep had completely rejuvenated him. Lillia was watching curiously, and also knowingly, eager to get her two cents in.

“I love sleeping under compulsion,” she giggled, as if she could read his mind. Luke sent her a hard look. “I feel amazing when I wake up. I don’t get nightmares like Brooke, but I still ask my Lady. She’s always happy to oblige.”

Luke’s mouth was dry. “Right. Your Lady.”

Ileana - if the silver haired vampire was going to compel him into behaving, then Luke needed to get out of here as swiftly as possible. At least with Silas, there was some petty arrogance in being able to deal with any physical beating he threw his way. He’d hated the feeling of losing all of that power, so much more consuming and powerful that Justinian’s had been.

He recalled something one of the girls had said - a pureblood. Luke was out of his depth when it came to the intricacies of vampires. He didn’t even know a pureblood was a thing, or what it meant. Though, he could guess turning wasn’t the only way to create a vampire.

“Can I have some water?” He asked, pointing to the glass. Lillia winced, nodding her head as she collected herself. She’d been staring at him again.

“Of course,” she smiled, handing him the glass. She went back to the tray again. “I have some medicine for your headache, too.”

Luke took a sip. It was cool and refreshing on his dry tongue. “I’m not taking medicine.”

“But it’ll help.”

“I’m not taking it,” he firmly repeated, and Lillia flinched back. A silence spread through the room as he drank his fill, eyes flickering over to the food. The blonde looked a little fidgety now, and Luke suddenly regretted snapping the way he had done. A quiet sigh slipped past his lips.

“What’s that?”

Motioning to the food, he watched as Lillia followed it, her eyes brightening back up again.

“That’s right,” she beamed, giggling softly. “You have probably never seen something like this, have you?”

She carefully plucked the tray up, placing it on his lap. It was warm through the duvet, almost pleasant would it not be for his current situation. He had been ready to protest, but begrudgingly clamped his mouth shut after feeling a sting of regret for snapping at her when none of this was her fault. He made a disgruntled noise, but didn’t protest. Lillia looked almost pleased to tell him all about the food, which Luke stared at with hard eyes. It was circular shaped, steam rising from the surface. Something golden and thick was smothered all over it, glistening over the spongy substance.

Luke frowned hard.

“They’re pancakes,” Lillia giggled, observing his expression with glee. “Just try them.”

Luke didn’t protest when the fork was pushed into his hand, the knife in the other. After a moment of, as Lillia claimed, etiquette, since apparently it would be messy to eat with his hands, he was cutting into a small bit along the edge, soft and easy to glide along the blade of the knife. The girl suggested scooping up some syrup, she called it, and so he did.

He eased it into his mouth. Luke wasn’t exactly worried about poison; if they wanted him dead, he would be dead already. No, he was here for something far worse.

The first thing he noticed was the taste. His jaw instantly stilled, nose wrinkling slightly. It was an overpowering taste, and he promptly stared at Lillia, who looked like she was struggling to hold in a laugh behind her hand. She snorted, her eyes crinkling with a laugh as he continued to slowly chew. It was like paste, a little soggy with the syrup, and so sweet.

“It has a lot of sugar,” Lillia giggled, trying to get herself together. A part of him might be able to forget he’d been kidnapped by vampires if Lillia was by his side. “The syrup is a little sickly. You’re just not used to it.”

Luke prodded the sponge. It wasn’t bad - just not what he was used to.

“You need to eat, though,” she continued, having calmed herself down a little bit now. She tucked some hair behind her ear. “My Lady wants you to be as healthy as possible.”

“It’s…” He took another bite. “What is this?”

“Pancakes,” Lillia smiled. “They’re very nice. You can have them with all sorts of toppings. Maybe I shouldn’t have started with syrup.”

Luke grunted. He tried scraping as much of the syrup off as possible, before continuing to eat. Even if it didn’t taste amazing, his body was clawing at any chance to get some food into his stomach. He wondered just how much food the kingdom had access to when his people had been starving out in barren lands. Absentmindedly, his eyes trailed to the window.

“Can you do me a favour?” He began, glancing at Lillia as he ate. The girl’s spine straightened, beaming from head to toe.

“Happy to help.”

He motioned to the window. “The window.”

Lillia followed his gaze, rubbing her hands together. “You would like some fresh air?”

Her voice was a little tight, her throat bobbing. She looked back towards Luke, her blue eyes softening with that same look of sympathy again. A part of him recalled the conversation she and Brooke had had when he was under Ileana’s compulsion. Lillia and the others served their “Lady” like obedient pets, helping to prepare their own kind to be sold off to the same creatures that enslaved them too. Luke doubted she didn’t have a choice, but she seemed rather complacent in her role.

“Yes,” he answered. He paused, adding a small: “Please?”

The girl rubbed her neck. It seemed like the windows were meant to be kept locked shut, otherwise she wouldn't be hesitating as much as she was. After a few quiet moments, she seemed to relent. Judging by the fact she had let him keep his necklace, Luke had been expecting it.

“Alright,” she nodded. “Though, we must make a leave when you’re finished eating. My Lady is feeding, but she expects us to be on time.”

Luke dismissively nodded her head. Finished with his plate, Lillia leaned forward to take it, placing it on the bedside table once more. She watched him as he slipped out of bed, feeling a little fuzzy headed as he rose to his feet. His socked feet hit the floor, taking a moment to steady himself. Once Lillia deemed him okay to stand, she began moving over to the window, one that she opened with a key attached to a necklace around her neck. She eased it back under her clothes once done, as Luke silently picked up one of the silk napkins (was it a handkerchief? Luke didn’t care to know), cradling it in his palm.

Lillia unlatched the window, huffing as she pushed it upwards. Luke’s eyes darted to the door, murmuring a silent apology under his breath as he pressed the cloth over her mouth and nose, pulling her back against him. Lillia’s squeal was swallowed by his hand, her scared flails pinned by Luke’s other arm as he kept her close, preventing her from making too much noise.

He wanted to tell her he was sorry for knocking her out like this, but he didn’t want to say anything that the vampires, especially Ileana, might overhear. He was probably pushing his luck thinking he could do this without being caught. Lillia went under more swiftly than he had expected, her body going limp within a few minutes. He ever so gently set her down on the floor, her face relaxed and eyes closed. He made sure she was still breathing properly, setting her down modestly on her back.

Luke felt bad, but his survival was paramount. He had an eleven year old kid to look for. Stepping up towards the window, he leaned out, taking in the ground below him. It was clear, as far as he could see. He felt confidence spark in his chest as he swung his legs over, determined to make a swift getaway.

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patchworkorphan · 3 months

Text

Civilian x Crush kidnapped

TW: lady whump, lady whumpee, male whumpers, multiple whumpers, broken bones, kidnapping, kidnap whump, physical violence against a woman,

please be aware of the tags and don't engage if you don't like lady whump! Thank you :)

*~*~*~*~*

It was pouring out, Civilian realised with a groan, resting her forehead against the office window. “Another late night, Civilian?”

Civilian turned her head to see her crush stopped in the middle of the cubicle, his sweater draped over the crook of his elbow. He was just in his tee shirt that showed his defined arms.

That was just unfair, Civilian thought. Why does he have to have a nice face and body?

“Yeah. I’m trying to finish the report on the increase of Villain activity.”

Crush hummed with a nod and a pretty smile. “It seems we’re always the last two to leave,” said Crush.

“Probably because we have no lives,” Civilian said with a small laugh. Oh god she just said that. Out loud. To her crush. When he was probably gonna think she was a weird, boring loser now. Great. Perfect. And it started to rain heavier. Perfect. As if on cue.

To her utter surprise Crush laughed in reply, and not a forced laugh, like a proper, real one. Civilian could listen to that laugh all day.

“You don’t have to expose us like that, Civilian,” said Crush with a small shake of his head. He cleared his throat and then turned his body more towards Civilian. “Since we’re both workaholics and have no lives, how would you like to grab a drink with me?”

“Now?” Civilian asked, eyes going wide.

She looked like shit, and probably smelled like ink.

“Yeah. Now. Why not? I mean… like only if you want to…”

“Yeah, no. Now works,” said Civilian with a smile and Crush’s shoulders relaxed. Civilian quickly shut down her computer and started to gather her things before putting her jacket on and grabbing her crossbody bag before walking to Crush. He gestured towards the lifts and Civilian smiled and walked with him.

When they got into the lift, Crush pressed the ground floor button and the pair of them leaned against the back wall in silence.

Then they both tried to fill the silence at the same time.

“So what do—”

“This report you’re—”

Then they laughed and both said: “you go first.”

Civilian laughed again as a blush climbed Crush’s neck and coloured his cheeks pink. “I was asking,” Civilian continued. “What keeps you in so late every night?”

“Oh,” said Crush, then opened his mouth and a hesitant hum fell from his lips. His eyes almost nervous at Civilian’s question. “Okay, look. You can’t say it to anyone—”

“My lips are sealed,” said Civilian innocently, miming locking her mouth shut.

Crush smiled and leaned in closer to Civilian his voice dropping to a whisper, “you know the new guy? He covers politics…”

“Oh yeah. I’ve seen him around,” said Civilian, eyes bright as she looked at Crush.

“Yeah. He is such a shit writer,” said Crush and Civilian let out a startled laugh. “Don’t laugh. It’s not funny. I’m in late every night trying to fix it up and make it presentable.”

“No rest for the wicked,” said Civilian with a grin. Crush laughed.

“No,” he agreed. “We must be very wicked.”

“Extremely,” said Civilian, then as the doors open, she looked straight ahead as she added, “I’m going to tell him what you said.”

“Ah no. You can’t do that! I’m supposed to be an unbiased editor.”

“Still,” Civilian teased. Crush grabbed Civilian’s arm, stopping her from going out into the cold wet night. Civilian looked at his hand then up at Crush as he pulled an umbrella from his bag. He stepped out first into the little roofed area and opened the umbrella, holding it high enough for them both to fit under.

Civilian said, “you’re so prepared.”

Crush shook his head. “I just listen to the weather after the news.”

“Then what surprise is left in life, Crush?”

Crush brought her to his local bar just down the road, The Public Domain. Crush told her that a lot of lawyers around the area come drink here too. Civilian smiled politely. Crush always had a good network of people that he trusted for his sources. It always seemed like a secret, and now that he was bringing Civilian here, it felt… well, like he was willing to share it with her.

The bar was buzzing with chatter and life. The smell of carpet dust and stale beer greeted their senses the moment they stepped into it. Crush held the door open with his foot, shaking the excess rain off the umbrella before closing it. He smiled slightly when he caught Civilian’s eye and nodded towards the bar. Civilian got the hint and walked up to it with him. The bar was quaint and bustling with patrons, chatting animatedly, laughter occasionally punctuating the conversations leaving a nice rhythmic lull to the pub.

The barman grinned when he saw Crush. “Another late night, Crush?”

Crush’s hand went to the nape of his neck and rubbed it bashfully, it endeared Civilian to him even more if that was possible.

“Yeah, you got me.”

“The usual?” the barman asked, and Crush smiled and said, “yes. A Guinness please and—” Crush said, looking back at Civilian. He leaned into the barman and held up two fingers. “Actually, two please.”

“Two Guinnesses,” said Crush again, and took out his wallet as did Civilian. Crush pushed her hand back and said: “put that away, I’m getting it. We’re here on my invitation.”

“Fine. I get the next round,” said Civilian.

Crush cocked an eyebrow at her. “So confident we’ll have another.”

“I’m just ensuring you know what you’re in for,” said Civilian with a wink. She thanked Crush for the drink, and they went to a small booth in the back. The conversation flowed easy, easier than Civilian flirting with him in the printer room. Or at the office offering to get Crush a coffee from the canteen because she was going anyway. It was better, more intimate.

The conversation got back to work on her third round of drinks and Crush’s smile was far better looking and almost irresistible. Civilian realised halfway through a story Crush was telling her of work that she could just reach over the table and crush her lips to his and all would be well.

His lips stopped moving, then turned up into a grin. “Civilian?”

“Yeah?”

“I was wondering when you got into current affairs?” Crush asked, his husky laugh making an appearance. Civilian blushed at being caught staring.

“Oh,” said Civilian, trying to think back to when she got interested in current events. “I mean… with all the Hero/ villain stories going around, and our paper not really being Pro or Anti Heroes I just wanted to start reporting the facts. As it happened, so people can witness the unbiased information, the before and after, and make up her own minds about it.”

“And?” Crush asked and Civilian let out a small laugh, lifting her hands in a shrug.

“And… Alice liked the idea and told me to handle the Hero–Villain side of things. It got a lot of positive feedback from our readers too.”

Crush leaned in, resting his elbows on the table. “But why were you interested in it to begin with?”

“I was reading about Hero and how good it is that we have them to help us and stop the Villains running around our city. Praising them to the brim, it was bordering on sycophantic…” Civilian trailed off, taking a sip of her Guinness. Crush smiled and reached over the table, wiping some of the foam off of Civilian’s upper lip with her thumb.

It was as if the world had frozen in that moment between them. Civilian’s heart stopped beating for a fleeting second that stretched into eternity. Crush retracted his hand and licked the foam from his thumb with a secretive smile.

Civilian’s face burned redder than cherries, her cheeks heating up. From all the drinking, Civilian told herself, not anything else. Not how hot Crush was, not at all… they barely noticed.

“And you didn’t like that?” Crush asked with his perfect knowing smile. He knew exactly what caused the blush covering Civilian’s face scarlet and continued on the conversation while they were distracted. As if he didn’t do anything at all.

Oh no Civilian loved that, she wanted to get more foam on her lip just so he could wipe it off again.

What were they talking about again? Oh god, she was making it so obvious. Think Civilian! Oh yes, Heroes and Villains, oh god, she was making it so obvious. Play it cool, Civilian.

SPEAK CIVILIAN! A voice screamed at her from the back of her mind, and she blushed again.

“No,” said Civilian, turning the clammy glass around in her hands. She continued thoughtfully, “I don’t like when things get shoved down my throat before I know what shit they’re shovelling. Turns out the Hero agency had donated a very generous sum to the publication and that’s why there was a sudden exposé on how good Heroes were.”

Crush sat back when Civilian stopped talking, a small hidden thing twinkling behind his smile. “What?” Civilian asked, cocking her brow.

“Nothing,” Crush said with his handsome smile.

“No what? What’s that smile for?”

“I just didn’t realise you were so passionate about Heroes and villains from reading your pieces. It’s… you’re very surprising, Civilian.”

Civilian bowed her head and Crush laughed, getting to his feet. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”

Civilian nodded, following Crush out of the booth then out the door to the pub. It had stopped raining. A sheen of water covering the streets the only remnant that it had ever rained. So, when water splashed on the pair of them from a passing car, they could do nothing but laugh.

That laugh got cut off as into a scream as something suddenly slammed into Crush. Civilian whirled a scream of horror in her throat. “Crush!”

Civilian was running after him, deeper into a side street, shoes splashing the puddles up her feet. At the bottom of the alley Civilian saw Crush engaged in a struggle with someone. Civilian pulled pepper spray from her bag and ran up on the pair.

Crush’s eyes found Civilian and widened as he yelled: “Civilian! No— ngh, run! Go!”

“Civilian, hmm?” Civilian turned on her heel, pepper spray aimed and ready at the newcomer, but her wrist was caught in the attacker’s hand, and he twisted it roughly. Civilian cried out, as her attacker twisted her wrist further and plucked the pepper spray from her hand with ease. Her only defence. “How lovely to make your acquaintance.”

Civilian’s eyes went hard, and she balled her hand into a fist. She found her centre in her feet, bending her knees slightly. Then twisted her whole body with the slap that she threw straight for the attacker’s cheek.

The attacker simply caught that wrist too, smiling down at her with a grin that exposed too many teeth. Civilian yanked her wrists down, trying to break free of his grip, but her attacker yanked her forward suddenly and Civilian stumbled, her balance thrown off. Her attacker spun her, so her back was to the attacker’s front, her arm twisted behind her back and pinned there. Then there was a gentle hand on her throat, holding her head up, and when Civilian tried to struggle the attacker lifted her captured arm higher and Civilian cried out.

“Crush. You might want to stop,” said the man holding Civilian. The scuffle came to a pause, Crush’s head lifting to see Civilian and whoever was holding her. His eyes narrowing at the person behind Civilian, but he stopped fighting, nonetheless. Then he got a punch to the face for good measure from his attacker.

“I think…” the man behind Civilian said, “we’re all going to go for a drive, hmm?”

“No,” said Civilian. They were in a public place. Her best weapon was her lungs. So, Civilian opened her mouth and screamed at the top of her lungs for “Help! Help! Somebody help us! Police! Ple-”

The coolness of a blade biting into her neck cut her off. “Keep screaming, they’re so pretty… but I would hate for my knife to slip…”

“Okay. Right Hand,” Crush said, glancing between Civilian and Right hand behind Civilian. “I’ll go with you, just… just let Civilian go.”

A rumbling chuckle from behind Civilian sent a shiver ran down her spine. “Oh no, no, no, Crush. Civilian’s coming along to make sure you behave.”

Civilian’s blood went cold as she looked at Crush’s resolve shattering right in front of her eyes. She wanted to fight. She wanted Crush to fight. To try. To struggle to punch to do something…

“Henchmen take Crush, don’t worry. He won’t put up a fight,” Civilian was pushed forward, and she resisted. Her hand was twisted further up her back, and she winced as she was forced a stepped forward.

“Keep walking or I’ll break your arm, Civilian,” Right Hand said into Civilian’s ear. Civilian obeyed because what else could she do?

At the end of the alley there was a black car parked where they had come in. Which meant these guys had been following them… for how long? Right hand kept pushing Civilian forward and when they got to the car, he pushed Civilian into the backseat then slammed the door shut. They did the same to Crush on the other side and Civilian’s panicked eyes went to Crush who just whispered: “everything will be all right.”

“Why do I get the feeling you know these people?” Civilian whispered back. Her hand went to the door trying to open it, but it wouldn’t budge. Locked. Child locked, no doubt. Jesus fucking Christ, what the fuck is going on? Crush opened her mouth to reply when the two front doors opened and their attackers, Henchman and Right hand, got into the front of the car.

Henchman was in the driver’s seat and took off, while Right Hand turned in his seat and smiled at Civilian. She couldn’t really tell his features from here. It was too dark. Did he have blue eyes? Or brown? And his hair… she’d need to remember something concrete to tell the police when she get free.

If they get free.

“Sorry to interrupt your date, Civilian.”

“Go fuck yourself, Right Hand,” Civilian said in reply. Right hand just laughed and stared forward again.

“You got a keeper there, Crush. You tell her who you are? Or does the little reporter want to figure it out all by themselves?”

Civilian looked out her window, but it was all blacked out. She couldn’t even see her own reflection. Of course. Of fucking course.

Crush spoke next. “Right Hand, let Civilian go, okay? I’ll come willingly.”

“You’re coming willingly now, Crush.”

“For now,” Crush threatened, his voice taking on a completely different tone than Civilian was ever used to. Ever knew Crush was capable of.

“Put your claws back in,” said Right Hand dismissive. “We’re almost there now anyways. Besides… you wouldn’t risk putting poor Civilian in danger by trying to stop the car and be a hero now, would you?”

Civilian glanced at Crush from the corner of her eye, her heart hammering in her chest but he wouldn’t look at her. Civilian put her hand out, resting it on the middle seat. Crush put his hand in theirs, lacing his fingers through hers and squeezing gently.

When the car stopped Henchman and Right Hand got out of the car. Civilian’s door opened first, and she was grabbed by the arm and pulled out. She looked into the face of Right Hand, who was still smiling down at her. She mustered up her best glare in return. Right Hand just pushed her in front of him again and told her to walk.

Civilian did just that, trying to take in everything around her. Figure out where they were but all she saw was a garage made of cinder bricks and concrete floors. Then a door opened to them, and Right Hand pushed her through. It just led to a larger room. A man stood at the opposite wall, his back to them as they entered. Right Hand’s grip tightened on Civilian’s arm when he felt Civilian almost stop.

“The prodigal son returns,” said Right Hand to the man ahead of them. Civilian looked over their shoulder, trying to find Crush, but a hand squeezed her cheeks and dragged their gaze to face forward again.

Crush spoke and Civilian’s head flooded with relief. He was still here. Civilian wasn’t alone. They were fine. He was fine.

“I’m not saying shit until you let Civilian go,” said Crush to the room. Then a grunt of pain and Civilian shot forward to help and was yanked back by her hair with a yelp.

The man finally turned to face the group and Civilian’s breath caught in her throat. That was Supervillain. That man was the Supervillain. Civilian and Crush were taken here to see Supervillain?! But then that means the person holding Civilian was… Right hand… Supervillain’s right hand. Civilian felt all the blood drain from her face as a small laugh sounded above her. Civilian took an involuntary step back, but just hit Right Hand’s chest.

“Oh, not so brave now, are we?” Right hand asked and Civilian couldn’t find it in herself to reply.

Supervillain approached them. Fine shoes clacking off concrete, echoing. Civilian didn’t dare breathe as Supervillain came closer and closer to her. Supervillain was taller than Civilian. Taller. Broader. Crueller. Instead of going to Crush he walked right up to Civilian and Right hand pushed her forward, letting go of her hair and arm.

Civilian felt very cold and exposed like this. She nearly missed Right Hand’s brutal hold on her. Supervillain looked down at her without a hint of an expression on his face. He looked almost alien. Cold.

Supervillain took Civilian’s hand in his and pulled it up as if to inspect it. Civilian let him. She hated herself for it, but Supervillain killed people, this wasn’t a time to be brave.

“You’ve been gone too long, Crush,” said Supervillain simply. His voice sent shivers down Civilian’s spine. Then Civilian was screaming, white hot pain burst behind her eyes as a resounding crack tore through her hand. Her legs went to jelly, and she wanted to be sick, but she just put her other hand out for support against the only other solid thing there: which happened to be Supervillain.

“LET HER GO! She has nothing to do with this!” Crush yelled. Distantly Civilian was aware of the scuffle behind her. That Crush was probably trying to get to her, but it didn’t matter because that wouldn’t stop the pain in her wrist from burning.

“Are you going to keep making demands, Crush? Because there are 206 bones in Civilian’s body, and I can break as many as you need to remind you of who has the power here.”

Civilian was shivering at the threat. Or the pain. She didn’t know.

“Please…” Crush again. “Please let them go.”

“No,” said Supervillain, and Civilian wanted to throw up. She wasn’t sober enough to deal with this shit. A hand on her chin tilted her head up to look Villain in the eye. “Just a hairline fracture, my dear. Nothing to worry about. Right hand?”

Civilian felt Right hand’s hand on her shoulder again and she nearly sagged against him. “If Crush decides to make any more demands break something else of her.”

“I won’t,” Crush said quickly, the words rushed out panicky and desperate. Then cleared his throat and said again: “I won’t, sir.”

“Good,” said Supervillain, eyes going between the two of his captives. “Let’s begin again then, shall we?”

37 notes · View notes

ashintheairlikesnow · 1 year

Text

No More No

CW: Dehumanizing language, medical abuse, medical whump, Facility whump, defiant whumpee, sadistic whumper, Some references to noncon

Nova’s pieces can be found in this masterlist

For @amonthofwhump, day 9: Medical abuse

"Here we go, little lady, time for round two. Just be a good girl and lay back for me, okay?"

"No! I don't want it, no, you can't make me, not again, not again, no!"

"Hey, now. You're not supposed to know that word-"

"No, no, not the needle, no no no-"

Her voice cut off when the asshole's hand smacked into her forehead, forcing her writhing body back against the padded bench. Some fucking doctor, she thought, kicking out and nearly succeeding before he ducked, the sides of his white coat flapping under the cold florescent lights. She felt her big toe just graze his brown hair and bared her teeth in a snarling hostile grin, her own thick, long black hair hanging in her face like a demon ready to drag him to the depths.

"What the fuck, did she not finish her first round?"

"No," The trainee's handler said, frowning more in confusion than anger. "She did. She was fine, coming along nicely, until she just lost her shit yesterday. She mentioned a cousin."

"They don't have cousins."

"Yeah, hence me signing her up for another round. Come on, Ninety-Seven, you know better than this. You've been my sweet soft girl for two weeks, what happened, huh?"

"Maybe I just got sick of eating you out-"

"Ninety-Seven! I can handle some rebellions, but crude language is subject to severe consequences for you!" Her primary handler grabbed her right wrist with gloved hands. She made quick work of jamming it up above her head and locking it into the restraints, the magnets catching with a strength 445097 couldn't fight, not at this angle.

She yanked at her wrist anyway, just to hear the little chain rattle, and tried to throw a punch. "I'll use whatever fucking crude shitty language I want!"

Handler Abernathy pulled just out of reach, some wispy brown hair escaping her severe bun to frame her face. It made the trainer pause at the unexpected softness it gave to her handler's usual severity.

"I don't want the needle," She said, plaintive now, trying for the soft puppy voice, I'll be good now sound that everyone seemed to like from her. She couldn’t make tears well up, but she could put the tremble of them into words. "Please… please, Handler, no."

Handler Abernathy softened, just a little. “Ninety-Seven-”

"Too bad." The stupid doctor grabbed at her other wrist and this time her heel caught his chin, sending him stumbling backwards, knocking over the tray of syringes and pale, faintly colored liquids lined up there. "Jesus Christ! That bitch-"

"Back off, Bill, let me get her handled," Handler Abernathy said, voice thin with effort as she managed to evade 444097's flailing legs and get her other wrist secured. "She does better for me anyway. Don't you, babygirl?"

"Please, please, not the needle, I can train without it, I can learn-"

"Hey. Hey, sweetie." Abernathy's glove was cool where the leather touched her cheek. The trainee raised her chin and opened her mouth for the kiss, Abernathy's lips picking up the trainee's expertly applied lipstick. She lowered her eyelashes, heavy with mascara. Her breath came in pants that raised her chest up and down, just brushing the front of Abernathy's black WRU handler uniform.

The oversized t-shirt meant she couldn't use it entirely to her advantage, but she tried. Sometimes a show of being overcome would soothe the handlers, calm them, get her what she wanted or just out of trouble.

"There we go." Handler Abernathy dropped to a whisper, lips moving against the trainee's cheek. "You'll be good for Dr. Bill, right? It's just a little prick."

"Not that little," Dr. Bill said, a little affronted.

"I meant the needle, dumbass." Abernathy groaned, closing her eyes in brief annoyance. "Just get it going, yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah. She knocked all of it over, give me a second." Bill rifled through a cabinet in the small exam room while Abernathy turned back to the trainee and smiled.

"Here we go, sweetie. Just give me that pretty little ankle… here we go…" The trainee swallowed, watching as Abernathy moved her foot into the stirrup and buckled her ankle in place, then did the same with her other leg. "There's my good girl. There she is. Much better, right?"

"Handler… I-I don't want the needle, please, I promise I don't remember anything, it was a mistake…" She jerked her left ankle but all it did was rattle in place. She tried to tear up, next, but she couldn't seem to make the tears come, no matter how her voice trembled. "I don't need it, I don't…"

"Ninety-Seven." Abernathy shook her head, tucking those stray little hairs the trainee had thought so pretty back behind one ear. "We all know you're lying right now. It's what your kind does. You start acting up with aberrant memories, we have to wipe them away again."

The trainee's eyebrows furrowed. "Handler." Her voice was a whimper, a whine. "Please, Handler, no…"

"There's that word again." Abernathy sighed, disappointed. "Bill, get her hooked up. Don't worry, babygirl. Just a couple of days should do it. Then… no more cousin, no more bad girl behavior, and no more no, huh?"

"Fuck you." She dropped the sad eyes and spat, watching with a thin thread of satisfaction as Handler Abernathy wiped the saliva from her cheek.

The doctor snorted. "Better for you, huh? Doesn't seem like it."

"Oh, shut up."

There was nothing she could do - the trainee could only shake in the restraints as Bill came over, humming cheerfully with an IV bag on a roller full of a cloudy liquid. The trainee's eyes latched onto the sight of it as her heart started to race.

"No, no please, please please please my name is my number I'm a pet not a person, I know, I know, I signed up for this all pets legally consent to giving up their former failed identities in exchange for a safe secure home and future I know what you want me to think, I know!"

"I know you do, baby, I know." Abernathy smiled, taking her chin in hand and turning her to look into her handler's sparkling eyes, drinking in her fear and helplessness as Bill wiped something cold and tingling along the crook of her elbow. "But, listen to me, honey. Listen. Say 'yes, Miss, I'm listening."

Now, the tears came.

The trainee's lower lip trembled as she swallowed and then said, in a whisper, "I'm l-listening, M-Miss…"

"Good girl. I know you know all the right things to think, to say. But…"

The pinch of the needle made her flinch, and Abernathy leaned forward to kiss her. Her handler's lips were soft but pressed hard, swallowing her whimper as the needle was placed and the first rush of cold fluid raced through her blood toward her pounding heart.

"We need to make sure," Handler Abernathy murmured, pressing one more quick kiss before pulling back, "that you don't remember any of the wrong things to think and say, either."

"Please… p-please, no, please don't make me do this again!"

Handler Abernathy turned and left the exam room, her boots clomping loudly across the floor. The tears came, now, and the trainee could barely see through them and her hair as the doctor grinned at her, staying behind to watch, for just a moment, as the trainee's muscles felt heavier by the second.

Once she slumped backwards, the doctor stepped up close.

"Be a good girl and just chill here for a while, okay?" He patted the side of her face. Each soft touch felt like a blow.

"Don't… don't leave me al, alone, please-"

"I'll come back once that perfect pretty head is so empty you can hear the wind blow right through it." He gave her hip a squeeze, then patted her thigh like the flank of a horse before he turned and walked out, too.

The door buzzed locked behind him.

Her eyes were already drifting closed, the Drip taking its terrible hold. The small sweet face she had been holding in her mind, of a cousin she had known, whoever she had been, was already fading.

"Don't-... D-Don't leave me al, alone…"

There was no one left to listen.

@eatyourdamnpears @sableflynn @orchidscript @whump-tr0pes @burtlederp @arlinthesnep @finder-of-rings @hackles-up

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slashthrashandcrash · 3 months

Text

I cannot and will not ever get over the bathroom scene we were robbed of (amongst other scenes)

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lumpsbumpsandwhumps · 4 months

Text

Women In Whump Pt. 3 (But they're MY women ❤️)

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whumpshaped · 6 months

Note

I don’t think kissing will help Beck and Helle’s relationship, would probably make things worse and/or weirder, but it never hurts to try (/j)

ive waited for so long to do this

masterlist

tw vampire whumper, vampire whumpee, mind control, lady whumpee, murder, death, starvation/intense hunger, humiliation, dehumanisation, intimate whumper, dubcon kiss

Being a vampire — and a hungry one at that — was an experience entirely detached from anything that had come before it. Beck was acutely aware of the scent of every single person they passed, all the little sounds of the street, and every small movement.

According to Helle, using charm should've been easier when he was famished, since the instincts should've kicked in, but he couldn't seem to get the hang of it. He chalked it up to being new to all of this, and simply stayed in the shadows as instructed. He would try again another time, when his mind wasn't so focused on nothing but blood blood blood.

"Control yourself, will you? You do not need to stare at every single passerby," Helle said in a low voice, and Beck quickly averted his eyes.

"I'm sorry, I'm just..."

"Hungry, I know." They gestured towards an alley, and Beck froze for a moment. It felt familiar. It was the same alley in which Helle had caught him, altering the course of his life forever. "This is a good place to get some privacy. Trust me on that."

"I'm... not sure I can hurt a human," he forced out, despite every fibre of his being screaming for murder. He wanted to hurt a human. He wanted to feed.

Helle saw through it as well, and gave him a condescending smile. "Yes, I can imagine the moral dilemma. Now, stay here. I shall bring you a suitable idiot."

Beck stayed as ordered. Suppressing the unwanted memories of torment and anguish was much easier when he had this constant buzzing in his head, when the desire to feed was so loud that it drowned out all the thoughts about Master not being a very kind person.

He tried to coax out some magic from within himself. He felt awfully vulnerable standing in the alley all alone, without any charm, without anyone to protect him — but it seemed impossible. He was missing a crucial step, no doubt, something he either didn't understand or Helle wasn't telling him. At the very least, describing it as instinct was a stretch. There was nothing instinctual about trying and failing over and over.

When Helle returned, they had a middle-aged woman with them, giggling and giving them the most adoring looks. She wasn't enthralled, merely charmed, but that wasn't the most interesting thing about her: it was her scent, the blood rushing in her veins right under her exposed skin. She smelled divine.

His mouth was already watering, but he stayed in place, waiting for Helle to give him the green light. They didn't. They made small talk with the woman like they had all the time in the world, only ever glancing at him to relish the hungry looks he gave them. It was maddening, and yet he made no attempt to protest.

Eventually, finally, they turned her around to face Beck instead. "Well? Try it out. Try to enthrall her."

"Can't I– can't I just feed first?" The woman's smile faltered as she kept looking at Beck, squinting as her mind tried to make sense of the image. He whimpered in fear, stepping further back into the shadows so his vampiric features would stay mostly hidden. "I mean– I meant–"

"Relax, Beck. If she snaps out of it, I can definitely enthrall her. But I would like to see you do it."

"What are you talking about?" she asked with a nervous laugh, but Helle just rolled their eyes.

"Come on," they prompted. "Try it. You should feel... how do I explain this? It should come naturally. You should be able to get a sense of her mind, how it works, what makes her tick. You should almost be able to see a little map of it in your head, with all the best places to hit so she becomes willing to listen."

"I, I can't do this, I don't get anything–"

"Beck, come here."

He swallowed and willed himself to move, standing in front of his soon-to-be victim and his sire. All the talk about vampire magic was definitely making the charm slip, and her eyes widened in recognition. "You're a vampi–" Helle quickly covered her mouth, shushing her.

"Easy," they murmured. "Stay nice and still for him, yes? He is quite new to the business of biting innocents."

She whined pathetically, but she stood no chance against them. Beck was beginning to feel a little nauseous; a feeling that somehow didn't affect the hunger in the least.

"Look into her eyes," Helle instructed softly, and Beck did, detecting nothing but the obvious terror. "Try to feel her out. Imagine what it would feel like to rip her apart and take a peek inside — that is usually how I feel when enthralling humans."

"I c-can't– I can't, I can't do that, it's not working– I just feel hungry, please, I n-need– I need to drink, please–" Nothing made sense. He wanted to sink his fangs into her neck, not his claws into her mind. He didn't care for any of that right now. His eyes kept flickering to the sweet spot between her neck and shoulder where he wanted to bite, and he just couldn't concentrate.

Helle sighed and muttered something about impatience and gluttony, but he didn't even catch it. "Alright. Let us see how you do with venom. Just let it flow, do not concern yourself with her state of mind."

That was all he wanted to hear. He grabbed the woman and bit down, an action that really was instinctual. He'd never been a fan of anatomy, and yet he could pinpoint exactly where to pierce her skin to get to the blood most efficiently.

The woman cried out in pain, muffled by Helle's hand over her mouth. "Beck? Are you not using any venom?" they asked, a little confused. "I am telling you to use it."

He barely heard it. He gulped down as much blood as he could in the shortest amount of time possible, filling his stomach for what felt like the first time in weeks.

"Beck," they hissed, and he quickly pulled away, licking his lips clean. Oh, Helle sounded pissed. "When I tell you to do something, you do it. Do you understand me?"

"Y-yes, Master, I'm sorry, I–"

"So use the goddamn venom."

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. The rich taste of blood lingered on his tongue, and he would've rather lied about not understanding how venom worked than be denied more. But he couldn't bring himself to. Lying to Helle seemed like an egregious sin.

"I don't know how," he said quietly.

They looked utterly dumbfounded. "What?"

"I d-don't know how."

"It should be the easiest thing in the world! Resisting the use of venom should be the hard part." They nodded towards the woman. "Try again."

"Yes, Master."

Once again, he didn't feel anything aside from the blood flowing into his mouth. He didn't feel like he was pumping anything back in, nor did he feel any sort of urge to do so.

Helle didn't stop him this time. Not when the woman's struggles began to get weaker, not when she passed out, not when she was starting to get unnaturally cold for a living human — and he didn't have the discipline to stop on his own.

He only pulled away when it became too hard to suck more blood out of her, and even then he was a little hesitant. As soon as he realised what he'd done, though, his perspective suddenly shifted. This wasn't a rat anymore... this was a human. This was a real human, with a real life, with friends and family–

Not anymore.

Beck stumbled backwards, horrified when Helle took out a stake and put a hole in her chest, before carelessly tossing her aside. They didn't look disappointed, or angry. No, there was something about their expression... Fondness? Excitement? They didn't even reprimand him for not using venom the second time around.

"I didn't mean to," he whispered. "I didn't– I didn't mean to kill her, oh god, I killed her– I didn't mean to!"

"Who cares?" they asked cheerily. "Who even cares? Oh, this is amazing." They walked over to him, cupping his cheeks and completely disregarding his panic. "You failed to charm a single human. You failed to enthrall your victim. You were not even able to use venom, arguably the easiest vampire trick in the book."

"I, I just killed a woman– Can we not talk about magic..? I'll try harder, just not now, please, I don't–"

"You do not get it, do you? Oh, you sweet, stupid thing." If they'd had a tail, they would've been wagging it by now. There was no way to even describe how happy they looked about the revelation they were about to share with him. "You are useless. Unable to survive on your own. You are what we would call the runt of the litter."

Beck's mind was reeling. He was still stuck on the murder part, but now Helle was giving him a new anxiety. "Wh– what? No, no, I just need a bit more time– I'm sure I can do it, I just–"

"You have had ample time. You should have at least felt an inkling of magic, but you did not." He was pretty sure everything Helle was describing was bad. So why did they seem so ecstatic about it?

"I... I don't... wanna b-be a runt," he muttered, unsure of how to handle his sire's palpable joy. "That's very bad, isn't it? I don't– I don't wanna feel so vulnerable forever."

It happened so abruptly. He was too caught up in his racing thoughts and guilty conscience to move a muscle when Helle suddenly leaned in and kissed him, passionate and demanding, like they just couldn't stay away from him for a single moment longer. Like they never even wanted to stop.

"You are going to be this vulnerable," they murmured against his lips. "Forever. My pathetic little vampire, too weak to run, unable to hide... Helpless to do anything but sit in my mansion and depend on me. Beck, you continue to be absolutely perfect." They gave him one last peck on the lips then let go of him, leaving him stunned, confused, and embarrassed. "Come along. We have more to discuss than I anticipated."

taglist: @whumpsday @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @florissimps @nicolepascaline @oliversrarebooks @the-cyrulik @pirefyrelight @there-will-always-be-blood @pigeonwhumps @echo-goes-mmm @whumpycries @morning-star-whump @d-cs @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @tauntedoctopuses @blueyellow8green @typewrittenfangs @whumpsoda @steh-lar-uh-nuhs

#at my beck and call #whump #whump writing #helle #beckett #vampire whumper #vampire whumpee #mind control #lady whumpee #murder #death #starvation humiliation #dehumanisation #intimate whumper #dubcon kiss

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whumpsoda · 3 months

Note

I found this on TikTok and it made me think of a prompt where the whumpee laughs at the whumper for making a silly mistake and then all hell breaks loose

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGe1TfxEH/

So sorry that this has been sitting in my inbox for months… I want to start working on requests more but I’m so obsessed with my ocs that it’s hard for me right now… I tried for this but I am so tired so it is far from perfect

Taglist- @softvampirewhump

cw- choking, restraints

———————————————————————

A painfully full, strained, and rowdy laughed erupted from the depths of Whumpee’s aching lungs. Each sound scratched at her stinging, dry throat, coating each outburst with a raw gravel.

There was never anything all that funny about absentmindedly dropping something. There was surely nothing funny about someone else, let alone Whumper, making such a mistake, yet Whumpee couldn’t seem to stop. She couldn’t help but react to the chilling clang of metal ringing against sterile tile, while tightly strapped and sprawled across an icy table.

The arise of another chance to anger Whumper yet again was one far too valuable to pass up.

Whumper’s back was turned, facing her enormous, organized display of various torture tools stacked upon the walls. Since Whumpee’s outburst had begun, the other woman had remained perfectly still, not a twitch of a muscle. The unnerving, tense air was setting in, terror crawling its way up from Whumpee’s churning stomach.

From Whumpee’s constricted view, she noticed Whumper beginning to shake lightly, before she picked up the string of increasing laughter that mixed with- and soon overpowered- her own.

Casually, eerliy, Whumper thrust her head back to face her captive, meeting Whumpee’s dark circled eyes with her own.

Whumpee’s wary breath picked up, her laughter trailing to a swift stop. Whumper’s continued along, boisterous and exaggerated. “Funny, huh? So, so, funny.” She sneered between chuckles, leisurely taking a click of her heel toward her captive.

As the woman sauntered to the edge of the table, grinning wickedly from ear to ear, Whumpee took quick notice of the glimmering, piercing shine of metal interlocked between her fingers. “What a little comedian you are.” She snarled, brows twisting with poorly hidden distain. “So clever. So annoying. But I know that’s what you want.”

Everytime Whumpee managed to tip her captor farther over the edge, there was always the risk of going too far. Of course there was no telling what that would entail.

Whumpee’s bulky wrists struggled against the coarse, leather restraints that burrowed into her skin, and sweat stuck her once perfect curls to her wrinkled forehead. She wriggled her limbs as a slender, unwanted hand caressed her exposed calf.

“Don’t look so scared, dear. I’m just going to give you what you want.” She pressed her palms to the sterile table, using the strength of her delicate arms to push herself upward. “Give you the reaction you want.”

Whumpee twitched uncomfortably with each nudge to her flesh, breath pulsing as Whumper easily pulled herself atop the table. Slithering with her quick, sharp movements, Whumper dragged herself atop her captive, flicking the knife from her hand. The tool slid down the slick surface, nearly nicking the sprawled out woman in the process.

“Where’d that pretty little laugh go, huh? Laugh for me, baby, why don’t you?” Whumper gripped solidly to her silent body, sharp, manicured nails digging harshly into the flesh. A stifled squeak escaped Whumpee as Whumper stuck the nails deeper. “Not so funny now, is it?” She growled, pointed teeth shining under the sterile lighting.

Whumpee stammered, wriggling in terrified fashion as the other woman effectively straddled her waist. She sighed with relief when Whumper finally released, spots of red soiling her recently done polish.

“Such divine skin you have.” She trailed her curled hands from Whumpee’s arms to plastering them upon her chilled chest. “A lovely coat it would make, I think.”

Whumpee tensely stuck her eyelids together as the other woman’s tender touch brushed upon her rigid collarbone, fingers dancing their way to the restrained woman’s bobbing throat.

The gentleness was soon swept away by her tightening grasp, the tips of Whumper’s fingers delving inward, and palms pressing fiercely down. Whumpee kicked and wriggled with instant suprised vigorously inside the leather cuffs, eyes widening as her neck was eagerly caved in.

The kidnapper’s soft strings of hair fell to her moist cheeks as Whumpee’s expression contorted in agony, straining out cracked pleas and gasps at any chance she could. “Now this is funny!” Whumper giggled, effectively taunting the choking woman below her.

Whumpee writhed under her grip, fingers clawing at the icy metal below her. Unfortunately, the restraints refused to budge, and the breath soon dissipated from her dry lungs. Whumper’s supple palms burrowed further, her pained smile creeping larger.

Whumper would kill her. She knew not to doubt how far the other woman would go. For the first time, Whumpee was tainted in a spurt of guilty regret.

Luckily, as soon as Whumper took her commanding, furious hold, she detached.

“Can’t kill you now, baby. I’m not finished with you just yet.” Whumpee gasped desperately for heavenly lugs of air, neck sore and flushed from her captor’s strength. Whumper continued to gingerly stroke her sweat coated, soft skin, a disdainful smile still plastered across her lips.

One hand solidly grabbed Whumpee’s face, keeping her head in an unmoving hold and puckering her lips. Whumper’s watchful, intense gaze studied the woman she sat upon, who stared at the ceiling with trembling eyes.

As Whumpee continued her search for oxygen, Whumper slithered two dainty fingers over the sleek knife still sat atop the table. It’s metal scratched against the steel table with a hiss as she lifted it lazily, grinning ever so wider, and with her other hand shifted Whumpee’s face to inspect every inch.

“How do you suppose you’ll look missing an eye?”

#asks :)#whumpblr #whump #My writing #whump writing #choking #whumpee #whumper #lady whumpee

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rainydaywhump · 4 months

Text

Zombies Are An Afterthought - 8

Whumpcember Day 18: Chronic Pain

@whumpcember @i-eat-worlds @pigeonwhumps (If you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist, just shoot me a message!)

Previous - Next

CWs and themes: conditioned whumpee; lady whumpee; lady caretaker; mentions of past injury from violence

Annette's mind whirled as she cautiously accepted the small pile of clothes -- firstly, because clothes, and second, because what do I call this woman?

Mistress? No; the woman had immediately told her that she wasn't a mistress. A normal person, she had said. So...was she saying that Annette should call her by her name, Kel? No. Annette dismissed that idea immediately.

"Miss Kel?" She tried, and only belatedly realized that she had said it out loud.

Miss Kel blinked, confused for a moment, but then shrugged it off with unfathomable ease. "Yeah?"

"I --" Annette gulped. "-- thank you."

Miss Kel brightened, and Annette did in return, relief and very cautious hope flooding her chest. "Hey, it's no problem. Although I'm sorry they'll be too big for you -- 'least it'll be comfy. I'll leave you to it, yeah?"

It was Annette's turn to blink now; she couldn't see why Miss Kel would give her privacy like this. But before she could ask, Kel was walking away.

Annette looked at the navy blue sweatshirt and periwinkle athletic shorts that she'd been allowed. There was even a clean pair of cotton underwear, too.

It was perplexing, and not unwelcome, but Annette still hesitated before slipping them on. The warmth they brought helped her pretend that it didn't feel so utterly wrong, though.

Figuring out Miss Kel's intentions and desires made her head hurt, so Annette just focused on the moment and worked on getting the clothes on and smoothing out any wrinkles. Miss Kel hadn't been exaggerating; the sweatshirt dwarfed her, making it comfortably baggy. The shorts were made of a stretchy synthetic material, so they didn't hang too loosely off her hips.

Just as she was wondering what to do next, she heard a muffled curse from the other room.

Oh, no. Annette tried to think of what she had done wrong (did I leave something on the floor? Did I break something without noticing?) and quickly remembered that there had been nothing, which meant that Miss Kel was just in a bad mood for her own reasons. Suddenly, the sweatshirt felt more heavy than comforting. Annette knew what came with her owners' anger; after all, she was there for them to de-stress with.

But that's not how I should be, that little voice in her head said, and Annette shut it down. She couldn't afford to be rebellious, not when she was still figuring out this new woman's rules.

Annette forced herself to tiptoe over to Miss Kel. The taller woman was braced against the wall, massaging her back as well as she could and muttering a string of curses that didn't sound like any language Annette knew.

"M...Miss Kel? Please, may I help?"

Kel winced and didn't look her way; her eyes were squeezed shut. Annette knelt on the rug and looked up, hoping that willingness would a) show Miss Kel that she was good, and b) reveal how Miss Kel would act if Annette was offering --

No. No testing. Just be good and learn the rules on your owner's terms.

"Thanks, but I'm good," Kel said with a pained grunt. Annette blinked in surprise. "I was in a firefight out in the middle of Atlantic years ago, and I got to take home a souvenir."

Annette was disoriented by the apparent change of subject. "A -- a souvenir?"

Kel opened her eyes and shot her a grin, flashing her chipped tooth and the gold one, too. "Yeah, a souvenir...a bunch of shrapnel in my back! Ha! ...Heh. Sorry. My friends tell me that joke gets old, but you're new, so. Yeah."

"May I...may I ask a question, Miss K --"

"Shoot."

"I -- well -- h-how can I help? I mean, ah -- does this -- do you feel pain often?"

Miss Kel smiled sadly at her. "Sweetheart, you won't have to help."

"I -- yes, mistress, but I can! I mean -- n-n-not arguing, I, I just want to help however you --"

"Heyyy, easy there. I didn't mean that." But that same sad look lingers in her eyes and shoulders, and Annette only worries more.

"It's okay," Miss Kel continued. "It's just a chronic thing; nothing you can do. I was patched up at the hospital, but it still aches and the pain flares up more every now and then. Well, okay, maybe a bit more than 'every now and then', but I'm used to it." A rueful smile twists through her grimace. "Sometimes it acts up even more when it's about to storm. Guess we're getting more snow, huh?"

Annette glanced out the window. The air was clear, but she didn't doubt it one bit.

When she looked back at Miss Kel, the woman was stretching and completely nonchalant about the fact that Annette had, not even quite realizing, gotten up from the floor. It was strange. No -- it was too normal.

Annette didn't know what to think. For now, she would be as good and compliant as possible -- and she wouldn't dare let herself hope too much. But...maybe she didn't have to be quite as scared.

From the corner of her eye, Kel watched the gears turn in the head of the former kidnapping victim. She wasn't sure what to think, either. Anne's brainwashing was severe, but she was starting to act just a little less tense.

Kel decided to focus on helping Anne in the moment instead of thinking too hard. If casually talking about her injury helped, then she'd gladly do it again.

She stifled a chuckle. Joke's on you, Marie. My shrapnel punchline can be useful!

#whump #whump writing #whumpcember #whumpcember2023 #whumpcember2023day18 #zombies are an afterthought #annette and kel #conditioned whumpee #lady whumpee

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whump-card · 4 months

Text

Okay, I did a little investigating of how blocked and the new semi-blocked tags seem to work now(Jan 2024), particularly in relation to #lady whump. Bear with me, it's a long post (but it's half pictures!)

(I actually did a whole write-up of how they used to work but I never got around to posting it and now... things are different!)

DESKTOP FIRST: I tested the following with "Hide additional potentially mature content" both ON and OFF - it's the same on desktop wither way, because that setting has to do with the mobile app. All my community labels are set to "show."

First, there's the classically blocked tag, like #restraints:

Clicking on this tag used to take you to tumblr.com/TAGGED/restraints, and show the above with no content, but now it takes you to tumblr.com/SEARCH/restraints, and shows the above with no content. Manually typing in 'tagged' redirects you to 'search.'

Additionally, posts tagged with a tag like this do not show up in the feed of any other tags. If you tag your post with a fully blocked tag, you're throwing it into the void - you may as well have not tagged it with anything at all, only your followers and people directly reading your blog will see it.

But now there seems to be another level: clicking on a tag such as #nsfw takes you to tumblr.com/SEARCH/nsfw, but it shows content now! Additionally, posts tagged with #nsfw DO show up in the feed of other tags, as long as they have the Mature Community Label.

But WAIT! There's a third level! clicking on #lady whump takes you to a search instead of a tag, like #nsfw, but there's no warning, and posts without community labels appear. These posts are still able to appear in other tag feeds.

What's the big deal? You can't follow these tags. Take a look at what happens when you click on #whump, a 'safe' tag:

You are taken to tumblr.com/TAGGED/whump, and you also get this sidebar, which appeared on none of the previous pages:

You can follow #whump, and see posts from it on your dashboard if you wish. You can also explore related tags. You are unable to do this with tags that redirect to 'search.'

NOW (iOS) MOBILE:

If you have "Hide additional potentially mature content" OFF, searching #lady whump shows this:

And if you've got it turned ON, it shows this:

And posts tagged with #lady whump won't show up in the feeds of other tags for someone with this setting on, though it still appears on your dashboard if you follow the person, and on their blog if you go directly to it.

To sum up: on desktop, the limitation of #lady whump isn't as bad as it could be - but the "Hide additional potentially mature content" is ON by default, and many people aren't even aware of it, causing some real kneecapping on mobile.

I'm not about to make any sweeping declarations about how to handle this. The way #nsfw works now, allowing posts with the proper community label, is honestly kind of nice (even though it's only on desktop) - but limiting #lady whump as "mature content" is really unfortunate.

I guess: friendly reminder, especially to those newer among us, to check your settings and make sure that you're able to see all the stuff you want to be able to see. If you post content, check the tags you use to make sure you're not accidentally condemning your post to the void.

This is all investigation with no conclusion. I'd love to hear what other people think.

#female whumpee #whump #whump community #whumplr #whumblr #woman whump #lady whumpee

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galaxywhump · 7 months

Text

A Lesson in Cooperation

[An Immortal Among Stars Masterlist]

contents: lady whump, immortal whumpee, captivity, a lot of dying, torture, asphyxiation, cutting, implied surgery, briefly mentioned eye gore.

~~~

Every time someone called Karita the immortal, it was terrible news.

She tried to be secretive, and usually she succeeded, but every once in a while someone would find out. There were people strongly attuned to magic of all sorts who could sense something strange about her and piece it together; there were those who simply saw her come back to life; and there were the most mundane ways, finding her old photographs, mentions of her in documents, because no matter how hard she tried, she could never fully erase her existence from the records.

Which meant, of course, that those in power were the most likely to find out about her secret.

"So, you're the immortal I've read so much about," Princex Yari drawled with a sly smile, looking down at Karita, who answered with her best look of confusion.

"Excuse me?" She frowned. "I-I think you got the wrong person. Your Highness," she rushed to add, her eyes widening as she put her entire heart into playing the part of a confused, intimidated mortal.

It rarely worked, and judging by the princex's laughter, this time it did not.

"Don't lie to me," they said, giving one of the guards standing by their side a nod. "I can easily test it."

Karita let out a terrified gasp when the guard handed the princex a dagger, shiny and bejeweled, more of a beautiful accessory than a weapon.

"No, please!" she choked out, struggling in the guards' grip. "Please, I swear I don't know what Your Highness is talking about, I'm not immortal!"

"That's just too bad." Yari shrugged, approaching her. "If you're telling the truth… Well, I'm terribly sorry, and I hope you had a good life."

The freezing blade was pressed to her throat, making her shudder, and with a quick precise cut her fate was sealed.

"Have you ever considered becoming an actress?" Yari asked, giddy with excitement, as soon as she came back to life. "I'm sure you'd shine in death scenes."

She glared at them, abandoning her wholehearted impression of normality.

"What do you want from me, Your Highness?" Her voice was dripping with venom.

"Information," they replied, leaning down to be closer to eye level with her. "A lot of information."

"I'm not telling you shit," Karita sneered. She saw stars when her reply earned her a hard slap to the face. It was annoying more than anything, but it drove a different point home: once again, she was a captive, after a mere few years of peace.

"Maybe you won't have to. All I need is your full cooperation."

"That's not gonna happen either."

"Really?" Yari raised one eyebrow, still smiling. "I think my offer is quite sensible, especially considering what will happen if you refuse."

"Oh? Then why don't you tell me about it?"

She had been presented with many offers she couldn't refuse throughout her life. It always turned out that she could, in fact, refuse, and the consequences were bearable. There wasn't much that could scare her into submission.

"Like I said, I need information. Information about the Serpent Cluster.”

Karita frowned. Serpent was a lost cluster, taken over long ago by loosely organized groups of the underworld, now a death sentence to any ship that passed too close. The cluster was being monitored as much as it could be, which wasn’t a lot, and for decades there had been plans and promises to deal with it once and for all, but it wasn’t going to be an easy operation, and as years passed, the groups ruling over the cluster only continued to grow stronger. No-one had been stupidly brave enough to venture there, including Karita - she wouldn’t lose her life in the cluster, sure, but she knew better than anyone that there were fates worse than death.

“I don’t have any.”

“I know,” Yari said with a patient smile. “But you’re going to get it for me.”

“What, you expect me to just waltz in there and ask around?”

“No, of course not. We’ll go with a more stealthy approach.”

“We?” Karita snorted, even as fear started to set in. “I’m not going to cooperate and you know it.”

“Yes, you are. Anyway, the plan is as follows: We’re going to put implants right here.” Before Karita could react, Yari grabbed the sides of her head and ran their thumbs behind her ears, pressing down to the point of pain. “They’re going to record everything you hear while you’re there, and send it directly to us. It’s only sound, but it will have to do for the most part.”

“No?” Karita stared at them in disbelief. “You’re not putting that crap in me.”

Yari sighed.

“Aren’t you forgetting something, immortal? I’m a princex. I’m in charge here, and right now I control you. You can act tough all you want. In the end, you’ll do exactly what I want you to do.”

“No,” Karita repeated and shook her head. “You can’t force me. What are you going to threaten me with? Death?”

“Actually, yes. In a way,” Yari laughed, and gestured at the guards, who grabbed Karita by the arms and started leading her - or more like dragging her - out of the room. Her thoughts were racing, her heartbeat frantic, as she tried to guess what the princex had in store for her. She had died more times and in more ways than she could count; mundane, horrific, suicide, murder, freak accidents, magic. She had suffered, she had been mutilated, there was nothing that could sway her and convince her that going to the Serpent Cluster to act as a spy was the better alternative.

She was pretty confident, until she started to realize where she was being taken.

She pulled. She tried to dig her heels in, to stop the guards, to free herself, to do something, and maybe she was wrong, but there it was, the airlock, and two people in spacesuits, and the vast universe outside.

No.

She was paralyzed with terror at this point, which didn’t happen often - she had learned long ago to act no matter what, to fight through the fear, not let it overpower her, but this-

The star exploded.

She could’ve been there, on one of the destroyed planets, fire, burning, melting, ice, freezing, floating in nothingness, no hope of ever being found.

Sturdy manacles were closed on her wrists and ankles. Yari appeared in front of her, holding a helmet.

“So,” they said, taking in her terrified expression, “it’s just death, isn’t it? You’ll be fine, no matter how long you’re there. I still haven’t decided, to be honest. Let’s say… six hours, and then I’ll ask for your cooperation again. Then… we’ll see.”

"No." The word left her before she could stop herself, and that was it for acting tough. They knew how scared she really was.

She wasn't going to be there forever, though, or even for several days, months, years. Six hours to start with, after which…

She couldn’t agree. She just couldn’t.

The princex put the helmet on her, but she already suspected it was only temporary - she didn't have a spacesuit or any protective magic, and a helmet offered a sliver of protection that her newest captor obviously didn't want her to have. The two guards in spacesuits grabbed her and pulled her towards the airlock, and she struggled, she did, but there was absolutely nothing she could do.

Immortality couldn't save her from this.

The hatch behind them closed, the one in front of them opened, and she was pushed into a nightmare.

Freezing pressure immediately surrounded her body and her breath caught in her throat. The guards wasted no time attaching a tether to the manacles on her ankles. There was no sympathy, no hesitation in their actions as they followed their orders, testing the tether, then taking the helmet off Karita, leaving her head unprotected from the ruthless vacuum.

They pushed her further away from the spaceship - the tether was long enough for that - and left her to die.

The first time she did, she wasn’t sure what was happening. She was freezing, but at the same time her blood and saliva were boiling and- She passed out.

When she came back to life, there was a layer of ice on her face, and she screamed soundlessly when she felt her eyes boiling too, an agony she had never experienced before. The vacuum was pushing, squeezing her body, compressing her lungs, she ran out of the meager amount of air she came back to life with, and passed out again.

She had read about this, just like she had read about every potential deadly situation she’d heard of, imagining what it would feel like, learning how to survive it, if there even was a way. The source of that particular report was a gnarly one, shady experiments on unwilling human subjects in a magically recreated contained vacuum; it wasn’t a publicly available document, but she had to find it, and she succeeded, only to be plagued by nightmares for days.

The subjects lost consciousness after ten to fifteen seconds.

She plummeted into darkness more merciful than that surrounding her, speckled with stars.

Death occurred around the ninety second mark.

She gasped when she came back to life, only for the vacuum to take all of her air, as if pulling it out of her, leaving her struggling weakly until her brain shut down again.

Deceased subjects recovered after 24 hours were frozen solid.

How long had it been? Karita was in no state to try and count the moments of consciousness, short, and yet feeling like an eternity. Freezing, boiling alive, suffocating, struggling, suffering, with no end in sight, unless it had been three, four, five hours already and she was going to be taken back soon, but it might as well have only been half an hour.

There was also the possibility that Yari was going to leave her like this for much, much longer. Maybe they were watching this, enjoying her pain and panic, or maybe they couldn’t handle it. Based on what was happening to her body, she could only imagine what she looked like.

This could be her eternity. The tether was the only promise that she was going to be brought back eventually, but if it failed, or if someone undid it, she would have no anchor. Restrained, and dying too often to be able to do much anyway, she’d be left at the mercy of space until she could no longer remember what it was like to be anywhere else.

It never got more bearable. If anything, it was even worse than she had imagined and feared for so long. She couldn’t handle it. She wasn’t strong enough.

Resigned, she died. She died. She died. She woke up in the grip of two guards.

She was inside the spaceship again. Every breath was agony. She managed to look up and saw the princex, who smiled at her and said something, but she couldn’t make out their words. The bejeweled dagger shined in their hand, was pressed to her throat, and sent her back into darkness.

“So? Do I have your full cooperation?” Yari asked when Karita opened her eyes.

It was always strange to come back to life free from pain. She had just spent hours in agony, and now it was only a memory. Her clothes and face were damp, but at least not frozen anymore - the temperature must have been cranked up to make her thaw out faster.

She should refuse, but the thought of being out there again filled her with panic that made it hard to breathe. The Serpent Cluster really did seem like the better option.

“Yes.” She wanted to simply nod at first, but she had to make sure she could still talk.

“Good. I’ll give you a moment to compose yourself and… clean yourself up.” The princex grimaced and scrunched their nose. “Then we can proceed.”

She was dragged to a bathroom, and she was glad it had no mirrors. She sat in the shower with her eyes closed to avoid looking at what the water was washing off of her until she was forced to leave when one of the guards knocked on the door insistently.

The walk to the medbay felt like walking to the gallows, and she was barely aware of what was happening; her body was walking down the corridor, but her mind was somewhere else. They made her lie down on her stomach on the operating table, tied her hair into a tight bun so it wouldn’t get in the way, and hooked her up to machinery she didn’t even bother to try and recognize.

They were merciful enough to sedate her before the procedure, and someone even reassured her that there was no chance of complications, as if it mattered much in her case, as if what they were doing was supposed to help her. That was never the case - as soon as she lost consciousness, they got to work turning her into an unwilling spy, nothing more than a tool.

~~~

taglist: @stab-the-son-of-a

#captivity whump #lady whumpee #lady whump #immortal whumpee #death #suffocation #torture whump #surgery whump #eye gore cw #oc: karita #oc: princex yari #fantasy whump #space whump #my writing #just some quality time in a vacuum #cause i liked the concept for an immortal character

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