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inkblot22 · 23 days

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Idia and the expression of displeasure

Uh, shoutout to that guy who I thought was my friend, asked me if I wanted to hook up despite being over 1000 some-odd miles away, despite me being very openly not that into men and, more importantly, telling him very clearly that I have no interest in dating him specifically. You're so cool for that, man. I just love to feel like an object. The "something about me" is the crippling c-PTSD, anxiety, and possible psychotic illness rotting my brain and your reading of me as a "Creepy Goth Chick", thank you.

Anyway, I hope I was able to direct that shitty man behavior onto our beloved Idia. I did tag you, it's later on and if you'd like me to remove it, I can absolutely do so, just let me know. Also all I can think about is this vine.

Dividers by @/cafekitsune

TW for verbal abuse, manipulation, emotional abuse, captivity, use of a shock collar, mention of physical abuse, Idia is an asshole, abusive relationship dynamics, lack of communication.

Idia is the type of person to believe he is pragmatic, when, in reality, he is rather mercurial. He will fly off the handle at the smallest thing but be completely unbothered by larger issues.

I imagine this could lead to a few problems for his dear, sweet partner. (By the way, I refer to Idia’s darling as his partner because that is what they have rationalized their situation to be, currently: they are Idia's captive partner. Idia doesn’t label them very often, and although he does call them his partner, he definitely sees them as an endearing pest, kind of. Despite them being there because of him, he often acts like they're a mouse or roach that popped up one day and he grew attached to.)

Idia is not the type to like striking or physically harming his partner. He’s the type to get rude and nasty, and play victim. This does not mean he doesn’t ever physically harm his partner.

See, that shock collar around their neck? We have previously established that this is connected to his technomantic energy, and his technomantic energy is connected to his inherent magic ability.

The collar is set up with a warning system. If Idia’s partner does anything he remotely dislikes or any set of pre-established actions that they are not made aware of, they will receive three low-voltage, quick-tap jolts of electricity right against the column of their pretty throat.

These actions include, but are not limited to: acting in any way to harm Ortho or Idia, attempting to harm themselves (this one had to be added after the hanger incident), walking too close to the door or the covered-up window, touching any of Idia’s current or past projects without permission, touching Idia’s gaming setup, ignoring Ortho (this only is put in place if Idia’s partner is hostile towards Ortho at any point, even just once) and refusing any food or drink given to them by Idia specifically. It's important to reiterate that Idia has not told his partner literally any of these rules. Much like the ways that some people train a dog, they have to learn the hard way.

After the three taps, Idia’s emotions and/or intentions dictate how intense the next shock is. Sometimes it’s a bored little zap, like a fourth warning to cut it out before he gets mad, sometimes it’s a rolling pulse that pulls them away from whatever they’re doing, sometimes it’s a tidal wave that literally brings them to their knees and makes them throw up. It really depends on the most annoying kidnapper in the world.

Idia is very aware that holding this person hostage because of his own predilections and perversions is a wildly morally incorrect thing to do, but Idia also doesn’t give a steaming shit. He’s been given what he wants, having grown up as a member of the upper crust, and if he doesn’t get it given to him, he finds a way to get it.

This means that, as much as we all love him, Idia is a whiny pisslord. The second his partner doesn’t do what he wants, he’s grumbling about it, he’s whining, playing victim, getting huffy.

While that might not sound bad, please remember that Idia’s partner has a bunch of exposed wires situated with the intent of shocking them around their neck at all times, and the shock collar is connected to Idia’s emotions. While getting shocked in a more violent manner isn’t very common for them, it can still happen, and therefore it's possibly best to do a little eggshell walking.

Besides that, it’s not very pleasant to be around someone who is so volatile, even if at their most disappointed they just complain for a few hours or days. Having to deal with someone else’s displeasure in life while being more or less unable to discuss your own does not do wonders for your mental health.

Let’s go over some scenarios and the punishments connected to them.

Idia has been playing some online fighting game all day, pretty much ignoring his partner. He hears them move during a cooldown between matches, turns around in his chair, and asks demands that they come over and let him kiss them a little. Of course, Idia’s partner declines. In this situation, Idia would usually get upset and complain about it for a while, name calling included. His words and mood definitely have the vibe of, “How dare you breathe around me and then not let me touch and kiss you. That’s just leading me on, breathing around me.”

Idia’s partner made some cup noodles while Idia was taking a nap after he raged all night and well into the afternoon. He wakes up and sees them sitting in his gaming chair, facing away from his computer and eating. In this situation, Idia would straight up zap them for two reasons. Number one, they didn’t make him anything to eat, and number two, they’re not supposed to be sitting in his chair or at his desk. Anywhere near his computer/anything that could possibly be used to contact someone on the outside without supervision is a huge issue. Keep in mind that he never deigned to share this rather important rule with his partner.

Idia’s partner has a bad day and snaps at Ortho, shoving him away very, very gently. It almost goes without saying; they’re getting zapped to the point of unconsciousness, because Idia panics and then gets mad, in that order and in rapid succession. The emotions blend together for a moment which makes the jolt stronger. This is when the “no ignoring Ortho” rule would be implemented, because they’d better be really nice to Ortho for the next few months before Idia decides he can trust the two of them to interact without his watchful eye. He trusts his little brother, but he doesn’t trust his partner.

In honor of a certain discussion I had with @tht0nesimp (thank you so much, you're very insightful,) Idia’s partner has a meltdown (understandably) and starts throwing things, including a glass of water that was brought to them after they had a bit of a cry in the shower (stay hydrated, everyone.) The glass, still with the water in it, sails across the room and clocks Idia right in his pretty face, ideally breaking his nose. While it’d be understandable to assume that Idia would be mad enough to hit his partner with a jolt of electricity that would bring them to their knees, Idia is sensible enough to understand that this is a display of some form of hysterical emotions that his partner has been bottling up until this point. Therefore, instead of electrocuting his partner, he just starts complaining, more loudly than usual. It is not peculiar for his voice to rise in volume but not in inflection, we hear this in game, but imagine that just a bit louder and more whiny.

“Wow, and here I thought you were an adult. I can’t believe you can’t even control your emotions.”

“My nose hurts. No, don’t apologize. It’s your fault anyway. I don’t even want to know what you’d do if you were really mad.”

“If you want to make it up to me, you could- don’t make that face. Whatever, I knew you weren’t being serious. Whatever. Just ask Ortho to get me an ice pack and go sit somewhere away from me. It's fine. It's fine!”

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bridgyrose · 1 month

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Ruby finds out that when Jacques is pleased he calls Weiss "Pet".

(Probably not what you wanted, but... this felt like the only way to really do it.)

“You’re here for my pet, arent you?” Jacques asked.

Ruby hated the way he said the word pet with a smile and a snap of his fingers as if Weiss was nothing more than a show dog to him. Though, it seemed even worse as she watched Weiss come over to him on command, collar around her neck as she kept as prim and proper as she could. “I’m here to bring her back to Beacon.”

“Oh, I dont think you’ll be doing that, will she, *pet*?”

Weiss gave Ruby a quick, sorry look before looking away and speaking quietly. “I-I want to stay here.”

“What about being a huntress?” Ruby asked as she took a step closer to Weiss, taking her hand and feeling small rings on her fingers. “All we have to do is get you back to Beacon and then-”

“I cant go back,” Weiss said as she pulled her hand away from Ruby, body clenching as she felt a shock run through the collar. “I have to stay here so I can learn how to run the Schnee Dust Company. I cant be with you anymore.”

Ruby sighed and then glared at Jacques, pulling her weapon out and holding it out towards him. “Let her go!”

Jacques practically grinned as he held out a remote and pressed a button on it, watching Weiss wince out of the corner of his eye. “I wouldnt do that if I were you. You see, Weiss chose to come back home and to give up her life as one of those… barbaric huntsmen. And that collar of hers will make sure she obeys every lesson to the letter. It’d be a shame if you force me to punish her for disobeying her lessons.”

Ruby made a quick glance towards Weiss, watching her wince as the collar shocked her. And the small rings made sure Weis wasnt able to put up her aura. She slowly took a step back and put her weapon away, relaxing once she saw that Weiss wasnt wincing anymore.

“That’s more like it,” Jacques said as he put the remote away. “Now, run along before I have someone escort you out.”

“I’ll find a way to get you out,” Ruby said as she turned to walk out of the manor. “I’ll make sure you can be a huntress.”

“You wont be going anywhere near my pet.” Jacques waved Weiss off. “I’ll make sure that everyone who works here denies you entry to the manor again. You’ll never see her again.”

Ruby paused in her step, reaching for her weapon once more and stopping when she heard Jacques pull the remote out again. No matter how much she had wanted to get Weiss out of there, it wasnt worth her getting hurt. Instead, she lowered her hand and quietly left the manor, the image of Jacques smiling as he called Weiss a pet burned into her memory.

Weiss sighed and started to make her way out of Jacques’ office, only to be brought to her knees in pain as she reached for the collar around her neck, feeling a strong shock. She held back a scream as she felt the pain get stronger, only for the pain to finally stop.

“I told you to remain proper at all times when you’re around me,” Jacques kept from yelling as he stood up, pocketing the remote to the collar into his suit jacket. “That includes keeping a smile on your face at all times and keeping eye contact with whoever you are speaking to. Do you understand?”

“Yes, father,” Weiss said as she looked up at him, forcing a smile on her face. “I will be a proper daughter for you.”

“Good.” Jacques sat down at his desk once more. “Now, you should get to your room. Your studies will begin soon.”

Weiss slowly stood up and gave a small curtsy to her father. “Yes, father.” Her smile faded as she turned away from her father, gently reaching up to the collar that was around her neck. It was nothing more than a small necklace with a shard of lightning dust under a sapphire jewel, but that didnt seem to stop the pain she felt every time it activated. Though, it wasnt like she could take the necklace off either. The clasp had been welded together, and while the chain wouldnt be hard to break, she feared what would happen if she ever attempted to. Like the day she found out she couldn’t leave the manor without her father by her side, getting stopped at the doorway as the collar activated.

She winced a bit at the thought, her fingers tracing a small scar that had started to form around her neck from how the collar burned her. A reminder of the prison she was stuck in, that her father was once again her keeper after bringing her home from Beacon. All because she dared to stand up for herself in front of her teammates.

“I have your dinner, Miss Schnee,” Klein said as he spoke through the bedroom door.

“Come in,” Weiss said as she adjusted the collar of her shirt to hide her scarring. She sat down on her bed as she watched Klein come into her room, afraid to try to show how much she had wanted to see him. “You uh… you can set the tray down next to me.”

Klein nodded and sat the tray down next to Weiss, giving her a soft smile before letting it fade. “It is good to see you home again. Though, I do wish it was under better circumstances.”

“I-I miss my friends.” Weiss got up and walked over to the window of her room, looking out over Atlas. “We were just about to graduate when father brought me home. And seeing Ruby come here for me, to bring me back with her…” she put a hand over her heart and closed her eyes. “I dont want to stay here.”

“And in time, you’ll be allowed to leave again.” Klein walked over to Weiss and gave her a hug. “Though, knowing you, you’ll find a way to leave one way or another.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

“I am.” Klein pulled away. “Would you like anything else, Miss Schnee?”

Weiss opened her eyes and gave Klein a quick smile. “No, I think you’ve done enough for right now. Thank you.”

“Of course, Miss Schnee.”

Weiss relaxed a bit as she watched Klein give her a small bow before heading out of the room. As the door closed, she looked at her reflection in the mirror, putting a gentle hand around the sapphire of her necklace. Her fingers shook as she closed her eyes, silently counting to ten, taking a deep breath with each number. Then, as she reached ten, Weiss pulled on the necklace, letting out a scream of pain.

#ruby rose #rwby ruby rose #weiss schnee #jacques schnee #klein sieben #drabbles #angsty drabbles #rwby #abuse #tw abuse #shock collar #tw shock collar

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whumpinthepot · 9 months

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Minors Please don’t like or reblog this post!

@figuwhump day 31, going to work backwards until I catch up more or less.

Its Abby and Ratty-

#suggestive #minors dni #dubcon tw #implied #breezys art #whump art #pet whump #tw shock collar #rats race #abby #ratty #nsft #chained tw #figuwhump #figuwhumpday31 #figuwhumpjuly #figuwhump2023

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cyborg0109 · 10 months

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Shock Collar

Day 1 of @promptsforyourwhumpfic 2 weeks of whump: shock collar. Meet my oc, Zephir. They seem to have gotten themself into a shocking situation.

[Image description: An elf with wings and a tail kneeling with a shock collar on. They are missing an arm and have a prosthetic leg on. End ID]

#whump #tw shock collar #tw partial nudity #nonhuman whumpee #whump art #whumblr #my art #art #sketch #winged whumpee

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watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees · 3 months

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My other half

the very first chapter of this story

tw: implied kidnapping, captivity, implied domestic violence, starvation, shock collar use, manipulation, lady whump

There was a clumsy knock at the door. When Claire’s mom opened it, she found Lucas standing on the porch, trying to adjust a bouquet of roses. He was Claire’s partner of a few years, fiancé of a couple of months. It wasn’t out of the ordinary that he showed up at their doorstep, when Claire spent the weekend home, to surprise her.

“-evening Mrs. D!” he smiled following a passing look of confusion as to why she was the one opening the door “I thought I’d drop this off”

“Luke, what a surprise! Is Claire coming home later then?” she asked, reaching for the flowers.

“I don’t know, I haven’t talked to her today, I just wanted to surprise her, it’s really hard on her that she can’t help out with all the renovations”

“All that stress! She really shouldn’t take on this in her state” she took a step back “Come on in, you can wait for her inside”

“Did she say when she’s gonna be back?” Luke asked as he stepped over the threshold into the hallway.

“No, last week we agreed you two would come over this afternoon together, with all her things” he could barely hear the end of the sentence, because his soon-to-be mother-in-law was already in the kitchen, presumably continuing with where she left off doing the dishes.

“Last week? Didn’t she say anything before she left today?” he yelled as he took off his shoes.

“What?” he sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Didn’t she say anything today?” he repeated.

“What do you mean?” she looked up at him, just as confused.

“Before she left today?” he tried again.

“Left? She wasn’t here” Luke frowned.

“She came over yesterday afternoon. Didn’t she?” They stared at each other for a long moment. Claire wasn’t at the new place with Luke yesterday. She wasn’t at home either.

Luke put the flowers down on the kitchen counter and grabbed his phone from his pocket to start calling Claire.

“She’s not picking up” he stared at his phone as it went to voicemail. He dialled again. Claire wasn’t in the best shape the past few weeks. She had violent nightmares almost every night, sometimes she was barely able to tell reality from dream. Once she fell down the stairs at their new place, almost breaking her arm, but getting away with a bunch of large bruises. Noone knew what set all this off, that’s why she was advised to move back in with her parents, because they could care for her better than Luke, who beyond his studies at the medical college worked part time at an electronics store.

Or at least she was supposed to move back.

“I’ll try to call as well” Neither of them moved from the kitchen for a good long while, leaving calling and calling, leaving voicemails after one another. When Claire’s dad got home from work, he joined as well “I’ll call her therapist” he suggested. Luke called around her friends, although she hasn’t spent much time with them lately, and he had a feeling suggesting Claire isn’t with her friends, he had to try.

“We have to call the police” her mom whispered finally, her face white as a ghost. Luke and his father-in-law agreed.

The dispatcher picked up on the fourth ring, and asked what they can help with. After a brief introduction to the situation, they advised the family to come to the station to provide their statements so they can report her missing.

The first time it was said out loud, that Claire is missing, it made no sense to any of them. As days went on, its reality set in. She was nowhere to be found.

The dingy old car pulled up to the house with unmistakable noise. He stepped out, and slammed the door in, with no care in the world. He was in the middle of the forest, at his great aunt’s property. No civilization in any direction for miles.

It was rather cold inside, as he opened the door he made a mental note to bring some firewood inside later. He hung his jacket next to the door and headed inside. Took a quick glance at the empty living room and turned right, fumbling a bit with his keys he opened the door to the basement.

“How are you doing, sweetheart?” he addressed the girl lying in the middle of the room. She shuddered as she heard his voice, but didn’t seem to have enough energy to answer or move.

He walked downstairs, and crouched down next to her, checking on the chains keeping her from moving away from the middle of the room where a hook was installed in the cement.

He petted her head gently, trying to coax some kind of reaction out of her.

She was lying on the concrete floor for days now without food or sleep. There was a shock collar on her neck that went off periodically keeping her up. She was at the point, where she'd seen more things that didn't belong there than she perceived reality.

"Hey, I asked something" he laughed softly, but stopped petting her head to reach into his pocket for the remote to the collar. She twitched in her whole body, when she breathed in to try to answer, granted she already forgot the question.

"I-i-i, don-know wha-what-sh happening" she stuttered barely audibly.

"Can you tell me who you are?" the voice asked from above. Something changed in the voice, but she couldn't make out what, she barely understood the words.

"I'm, I'm..." She did not remember. All she knew was the cold concrete under her body and the cold blue eyes watching from above.

“That’s alright, love” Luke hushed, almost proud of her. He unlocked the chains around her limbs and lifted her up.

She was laid on something soft, something that smelled familiar. It was good. She heard a click and her collar was lifted from her neck, leaving the skin vulnerable under it.

"You can rest now, sweetheart” he cooed into her ear softly "You will get something to eat tomorrow too" And she finally closed her eyes, immediately falling asleep.

He just watched her. She was so pure, sleeping on the bed buried under the sheets. She seemed dangerously thin and fragile, but she was perfect now. He was honestly intrigued to know how much she'll remember, when he let her recover for a while. He couldn't take her back to their place again, which he did a few times before, when he brought her here. She was officially missing. He was leading search groups every evening he could manage, while also spending time with her parents, he was her fiancé after all.

#whump #danse macabre original story #oc whump #tw manipulation #tw kidnapping #tw implied abuse #tw captivity #tw shock collar #tw starvation #lady whump

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purple-heart-x · 2 years

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Slice

Hello and welcome to pain!

This was inspired by this post, requested by @kira-the-whump-enthusiast. The prompts were sleep deprivation and vivisection. Enjoy! (requests are still open! comment or ask if you’d like me to write any of the given prompts.)

Trigger Warnings: Vivisection, sleep deprivation, shock collar, restraints, constant blindfolding, anonymous whumper/unknown whumper, drugging (nonconsensual of course), needles, pills, loss of voice.

~~~

He laid on his side, despite how the wound ached and searing pain rushed to his head. He was facing the wall, hoping to appear asleep. Hoping that would delay more pain a little longer. Tears streamed from the corner of his eyes, down his nose and to the gritty concrete beneath him. Each heaving breath seemed like a chore, excruciating, but he breathed through the tears.

He didn't dare let himself sob. He didn't know what noise would come out, but he knew when he let it, he'd never be able to stop. He was tired, so tired. Laying down like this, he just wanted to give in and--

He held his breath as footsteps approached, taking a shaky breath when they passed his cell. Hiccupping, he sniffled as the pain sliced just as the scalpel had hours and hours before. Slicing through his skin cruelly. Without hesitation. Paying no mind to his screams from behind the cloth stuffed roughly between his jaws. He began to cry silently, eyes stinging as he covered his face with his hands. Briefly he remembered the shadowy shape of a hand approaching, muddled by the cloth bound tightly over his eyes. Had he even the slightest chance he would have pled for mercy, please, anything but this. He felt himself drifting off for just a minute before jolting, shaking violently until the collar mercifully stopped dispensing its shocks to his body. His breath hitched and he began to cry again. Exhaustion clouded his mind like smoke in a building. How long had it been? Days? He could never tell with how often he was blindfolded. He never even knew why he couldn't sleep. The guards slapped him without comment and the collar shocked him without thought or feeling. Gagging, he tried to drag his mind away. Involuntarily, it began to replay the sensation of the man's hands digging inside him, rifling through his organs like it was just another drawer of junk. His heart felt separate from him, beating too fast and too slow and too hard and not at all, all at the same time. He had desperately tried to thrash, but the bitter pills had left him open and helpless, feeling everything yet doing nothing. He remembered, briefly, his mother reading him stories. Telling him of people years and years ago in lands far away that used to weep just as bitterly as he was now, tearing at their clothes. He remembered asking why they did that. His tiny, innocent voice telling her it didn't make sense to ruin their clothes because they were sad. His mother's kind eyes-- he barely remembered them, or her, anymore-- looked down at him with love. That was the only thing he remembered about her. She was gentle and loving and kind. "Sometimes when a person is very, very sad, they can't contain it inside and they have to let it out," she had explained. "Their grief... is like sadness that aches over and over and over." He hadn't understood then, but he understood now. Oh, how he understood. Involuntarily, his nails dug into the thin shirt that hung loose around his shoulders, and with one final shaky breath he finally stopped trying to stop himself from crying. He just wanted to go home, to be safe in his mother’s arms once more. He managed one desperate sob as keys inserted themselves into the lock on the metal grates of his cell. The guard stepped in, avoiding his eyes. And true to his earlier thoughts, once he cried he was unable to stop, wailing screams piercing the walls as he was blindfolded, then half-carried, half-dragged through the tunnels and up the stairs, barely managing to kick out and wriggle in the guard's tight grip. Placed on a metal table once more. Only then could he catch his breath, feeling his fingers trembling under the tight restraints over both of his arms and wrists. His breath caught when a small ribbon of cold metal pressed itself onto him once more. He opened his mouth to scream, and was gagged yet again. He wasn't foolish this time. He fought the restraints harder than he had ever done before, ripping through his clothes, through his skin, through his nails, anything to try and escape. Shaky arms and legs trying to drag his body up and away from this nightmare. A needle shoved itself into his arm despite his wild thrashing, and gradually, his shrieks and cries devolved into moans and whimpers. Hazily, he could make out the silhouette of his anonymous torture, watching him. The cold metal once more laid itself casually on his chest. He shuddered, and the man took it as a cue to start. The man didn't stop cutting and shocking until the last strains of his voice were gone. And yet there he lay, powerless, in agony, and torturously awake.

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gayferret420 · 6 months

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First time writing a fic on tumblr! TW for almost smut but though it doesn't happen? Oh and kinky shit like a shock collar. [Idk why I wrote this either it was 1am and looking at it now I’m very confused]

“What do you want, Riley? Do you want me to tie you up and fuck you stupid? Do you want me to gag you? Do you want me to blindfold you? What do you want me to do to you?” Chase said in that sultry tone that always made Riley go weak in the knees. All those options sounded amazing, but Riley didn't have a choice. He knew he didn't have a choice. It was part of the facade so to speak, er, a scene as Chase called it. Riley was still pretty new to this.

“Y-You.” Riley knew what he wanted. He wanted to be used. He wanted to be treated like a toy and fucked without care.

“Me?” Chase exhaled sharply through his nose. “I think I can give you that.” He sauntered on all fours across the bed towards Riley, swaying his hips back and forth. “But first…” Once Chase finally got to his lover, he looked like a predator stalking his prey. And by God was Riley ready to be devoured. “A question.”

“Ye-Yeah? What's up?”

“What’s the safeword?”

Riley threw his head back and groaned. Any arousal he had was zapped. “Really? Do you always have to ask me that? We both know I want it-”

“Just because you want it now doesn't mean you’ll want it when we’re doing it!”

“But I never use it!”

“Good! You using it is not a good thing! It means something went wrong! I’m not touching you until you understand why safewords are important.”

“Fine! The safeword is dresser. Now can we please have sex already?”

“No.”

“What? But I said the-”

“Yes, but you don't understand why we have one. Like I said, I’m not touching you until you understand why it's important.”

“What are you gonna do, put me through BDSM school? Make me write an essay on why I need a safeword?”

Chase looked as if he was contemplating it. “Maybe, yeah. Not the essay thing, but teaching you about consent and stuff? Yeah, that could work.”

“What? No, I was joking-” “And I'm not! Knowing about good BDSM etiquette is necessary if you ever try to do this with someone else!”

“That implies that there's gonna be a someone other than you.” “Ok, Riley, that's very cute, now let me get the whiteboard.”

“The whiteboard????”

“Yeah! Need a whiteboard to teach you properly. Hey, speaking of consent, you ok with shock collars?”

Their conversation taking such a 180 made Riley’s head spin. “Oh! Um, that sounds…fuck.” Riley’s mouth went dry just thinking about it. “Yeah, that sounds good. But what happened to not touching me?”

“I’m not touching you, the collar is. Now lemme get my stuff.”

“…Alright.”

A couple of minutes pass before Chase comes back. He was wearing a white button-up shirt with black suit pants, clearly very into the teacher role already. He was also holding the whiteboard and shock collar that he was talking about earlier. He put the collar around Riley’s neck, making excitement and a bit of fear pool in his gut.

“Alrighty then, you’re all set. And Riley?”

“Yes?”

“What’s the safeword?”

—————————————————————————-

why the ass did I write this -morning me

#tw kink #tw shock collar #tw mentioned sex #ig?? Kinda #idk why i made this #something wrong with me #wrote this at 1am #help

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whump-queen · 1 year

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I will say, they are very eager aren’t they, a little pathetic in their eagerness to please maybe? Cute though, makes me want to hurt them myself if they’re going to be so easy for it. Maybe you’ll have me as an assistant, a henchman. I’ll follow your orders if you let me have my fill, and maybe you can even get me on my knees for you, though you’ll have to do more than ask nicely -S

Oh, an assistant? A henchman, huh?

I will say I’m impressed with your resume… Fine, sounds fun. Welcome aboard.

I’m still shock collaring you though. Can’t have you getting any… wrong ideas about where you stand here.

#gotta keep the henchmen in line somehow right?#oh this ask is too good #hits all my favorite things #second to last one and then I really gotta leave #loving this tho yallre giving me life #akias dungeon #tormenting my anons #tw shock collar #shock collar #tw electricity mention

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weirdlyhornyforegos · 2 years

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thoughts on shock collars

To be honest, I haven't thought much about them other in a setting of shit and giggles with your friends, you know where you play some sort of game or quiz and if you lose you get shocked

HOWEVER

Your ask made me think about them more. And I think if used responsibly, it could be very hot.

Just imagine with me for a second of you will.

One of the more controlling egos sitting on a chair in front of your bed while you kneel on the mattress.

Lets say for example; Murdock. He loves controlling you, and with the shock collar around your neck and the remote in his hand, he's poised to do exactly that.

Murdock will order you to do things, to put on a show for him. If you don't do as you're told, don't do it in a way he likes, or just aren't quick enough, he'll shock you.

The strength is different every time. Sometimes it so you barely feel it, other times it makes you yelp and/or fall over. Unless you safeword, Murdock is going to keep going, and there's a lot of fun to be had with a shock collar when you let Murdock have his way.

#murdock #drabble #ffreddyvibess #ask #tw shock collar #cw shock collar

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inkblot22 · 3 months

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The Infection I Don't Want

I don't have any words. Don't look at me. In all seriousness, I definitely love the savior trope. I tried to give it a cute little twist. Idia feels funny in this one too. Also sorry if the formatting is weird. I write these in Docs and then I transfer them to tumblr and for some reason in this fic's document I used Amatic SC and I have bad vision to begin with. No clue why I love torturing myself. Dividers by @/cafekitsune. This fic gets a little heavy. If you start feeling unwell, stop reading. I won't take it personal, promise.

This fic is aimed towards afab readers, but uses they/them pronouns. Mentions of periods and wombs. I may have been a bit less impersonal with this one, but the reader doesn't go on my weird love rant that I have in my self-insert Idia fic so there is that.

This fic is DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT. TW for mentions of pregnancy, pregnancy symptoms, DIY abortion which could also be read as miscarriage, I guess, abortion, Idia is incredibly mean in this and possibly OOC, Ortho being unintentionally creepy, parasites, sort of misogyny relating to periods, shock collars, electric shocks, captivity, implied forced marriage, implied forced medical procedures. PSA: don't try anything the reader does in this fic. It's an excellent way to get sepsis, and you don't want that, I promise.

Part 5 of the Pants on Fire series.

You don’t want to admit it, but a bit too much has changed about you. In the past few weeks, you’ve noticed plenty of things, but the largest and most blaring was that your period never came. Before when you would have it, Idia would sulk and pout, acting like you were bleeding on purpose, throwing a heating pad and a blanket and a pillow and the necessary products at you so you’d be comfortable in your distress. He kept talking about figuring out some technology to rid you of that pesky trait, and you really can’t think of anyone who likes having a period, so if he had, you wouldn’t have fought him on it,

It’s too late for that now. For the last few days, you’ve been waking up early and vomiting. The smell of Idia’s favorite noodles makes it worse. Your poor tummy is constantly roiling, and you can hardly keep anything down. Ortho has been staring at you incessantly. You think he’s being annoying, really, and Idia’s been getting on your last nerves as well.

Today, you woke up, vomited, and just sat in the bathroom for a moment, coming to terms with the fact that you could very well be pregnant. You feel conflicted. On one hand, you don’t want to talk or think about this. You’re stressed enough as it is. On the other hand, you absolutely don’t want this. You don’t want this creature in your stomach. You know it's there. You can’t feel it, but how often can you feel something before everything goes absolutely wrong? You can’t.

But it’s unimportant. A knock comes at the door and you scramble to your feet, flushing the toilet and rinsing out your mouth before opening the door. It’s Idia. He gives you a look and starts stripping, turning on the shower and handing you a hair tie.

“You look sick. What’s wrong with you?”

“O-oh, I… I don’t know. I feel fine.” You’re not sure how to tell him, so you lie. Maybe you won’t have to tell him. You pull his hair into a bun and he hops into the shower.

You stand there for a moment and he peeks his head around the door at you, “What are you doing? You want to join me?”

“Huh? Oh, no. Just thinking.”

“Go see if Ortho can get you some aspirin or something so you can start acting normal again.” He mutters.

You leave. It’s fine. Idia’s dorm room is always cold. He keeps it like that on purpose. If you’re cold and he doesn’t provide much more than these stupid skimpy pajama sets that are cute but are also thin, so you’re more likely to cuddle up to him or wear his hoodies. At least he has good taste in that.

You don’t really feel like undertaking the task of looking through his closet, so you take a seat in Idia’s gaming chair, which is still warm from him sitting in it, and sigh, laying a hand over your belly. He said that Ortho was here, but he must be out getting breakfast, since you didn’t immediately hear his high voice shrilling in your ears, “Good morning!”

You like Ortho just fine. He’s not your ally, but being around him is better than being around Idia. You wished he’d been gone for longer. You sigh and your head begins to hurt, “Hi, Ortho.”

He giggles a little and puts down the takeout bag, smiling as he turns back to face you. And then he just stares, chartruse eyes boring into you.

“Ortho, is there a problem?” You can’t hold your tongue about this any longer. You have a headache and honestly you just want to take a fat nap and let the world, small as it has become for you, deal with itself.

Before he can respond, Idia strolls out of the bathroom, lazily greeting Ortho, “Hey, Ortho.”

“Hello!” His voice is just so grating. You want to throw something.

“Mmm.” Idia glances at you, walking over and nudging your shoulder with the back of his hand, like he’s shooing an animal, “Go lay down.”

“I don’t-”

“Did you ask Ortho for-”

“Would you stop interrupting me?” You snarl, turning to look at him.

He stiffens ever so slightly, then hunches down and digs through the takeout bag Ortho brought in, “Are you acting like this because you’re on your period?”

“Did you really just ask me-”

This time, it’s Ortho, not Idia, who interrupts you, “Oh, they won’t be having a period for a while.”

Idia freezes. You freeze. Ortho goes back to what he was doing, humming as he makes the bed. Idia turns to narrow his eyes at you, his eyes sliding down to look at your midsection and feet, and his eyes roll back into his head and he’s hitting the ground. Maybe if you cared more about him, you’d check to make sure that he was fine, but as it is now, you don’t really have the energy or wherewithal to do so. You rush into the bathroom and cower near the toilet, like there’s a tornado or something outside. You’re distressed.

He doesn’t know it, but Ortho just vocalized the actualization of all your fears, the culmination of your meager existent, all rolled up into this… this parasite in your stomach. You swallow your incoming hysteria and make a decision. You’re going to get up. You’re going to get a change of clothes. You’re going to take a shower. And you’ll be fine. You’ll figure this out. You always have before. You’ll do it again.

When you exit the bathroom, Ortho is blowing air into Idia’s pallid face, and Idia is groaning. You ignore the pair and go to the closet. You grab a change of clothes, the rabbit-themed set of pajamas, you walk into the bathroom, you turn on the water. About as soon as the stream hits your back, you’re screaming. Sobs break from your chest like a hammer going into ice, smashing its way out despite every effort you make to keep it together. You’ve barely got the peace of mind to quickly wash yourself, and when you exit- the water is cold, too cold for comfort- you dry. You feel twitchy, after crying so hard. You tug on the spaghetti strap shirt, the bunny face stretching against your skin, and then you’re staring at the hanger.

You remember reading something, a long, long time ago. You were far too young to be reading this type of thing, the gorier parts of feminism and women’s rights, but… you remember a passage. The wire twists apart easily as you remember the story. A woman, desperate to be rid of the parasitic growth in her womb, just as desperate as you are now, used a wire coat hanger to remove it. It’s been so long that you can’t remember how it ended for her, but you remember the rest very clearly. The bent end, no longer crooked after you bent it, slips into your opening so easily. You can barely feel it. then the door opens, you freeze, and you hear Ortho scream.

“Idia!” He yells, and there are footsteps and a moment of silence.

You look up at Idia’s honey-colored eyes that are glued to the wire hanger sticking out of your body, see the way both of the Shroud boys are looking at your current unfinished action, see the slow spread of crimson into Idia’s long hair, starting at the tips and spreading like, well, like fire, to the roots. There’s that familiar three-tap warning, and then you drop the hanger, clutching at the collar as the strongest shock you’ve ever felt hits you like a truck. It’s worse than the time you didn’t want to hang out with him, worse than the times you’d stray too close to the door. It forces you to your knees, sets your body into convulsions that shake the twisted hanger out of you, makes you foam at the mouth.

Somewhere under your anguish, you think you hear Ortho robotically say, “BPM reaching critical levels.”

The current stops and your body stops convulsing, relaxing so hard that your world, small as it has become, goes black. When you awake, you’re reliving a distant memory: you’re bound, hands and ankles, on the bed. You’re dressed again, one of Idia’s hoodies draped over you like a blanket, and Idia is just staring at you, holding your collar. He looks pissed, but his hair isn’t red, at least. He’s noticed you’re awake, but he’s not saying anything. He turns slightly in his gaming chair and throws the strap of leather on his desk, the wiring fried. There are holes burnt into the leather, and Idia stares at it blankly before he starts typing away on his tablet, his own voice coming through the device.

It sounds about as burnt out as the shock collar looks, “I bet you feel pretty bad, huh?”

You don’t dignify that with a response. It doesn’t matter to him, since his fingers fly as he keeps typing away.

“You’re a fucking moron. Only someone stupid would try to-” He doesn’t finish the sentence and hits the desk, standing up and pacing. You can’t see him, but you can hear him panting.

You try to de-escalate, sort of. The shock collar isn’t around your neck anymore, but you really don’t need him to work himself up again, “The word is ‘desperate.’ I don’t want… I don’t want this. This thing growing inside of me, I don’t-”

“You’re not the only one with a parasite.” His voice is quiet but seething. It breathily cuts through the air like a knife, aiming for your soft parts, “You just have the privilege of being able to get rid of yours comfortably.”

“Really? So you putting this thing in me isn’t as bad as I think it is?”

He paces back into view and you notice something missing. Someone missing. You lift your head a bit to look around and Idia takes a heavy seat at his desk again. This state is rare. It takes him a while to relax when he gets like this, but you’ve only seen it aimed at others, like that time his account got temporarily banned because one of his party members was hacking. At least that had an easy solution for him- you’ve never seen him grin as much as when he had the poor guy swatted and watched through the CCTV cameras around the poor fool's house.

“We’re going home. I’ll fix your little problem twofold, since I’m the only competent one between the two of us.” He types out, his recorded voice not lagging once.

“What? And what do you mean you have a parasite?”

He doesn’t look at you, but you think you see him wipe his cheek with his sleeve, typing with only one hand, “Ortho is gonna come back with some burn cream. I lost my temper and you got hurt. Not that you didn’t deserve it.”

“I didn’t deserve any of this. I asked you if you had a condom.”

He doesn’t respond to that statement, instead typing, “I don’t love you. You know that, right? Love is for the idealistic masses, those who aren’t capable of keeping their feet on the ground. You’re just someone who has taken up a space in my mind. So the solution to yours won’t be permanent. Seven knows my parents will be getting on my case about providing them an heir eventually.”

“So I’m just here for eventual marriage security?”

Idia doesn’t respond. Ortho strolls in, placing a tube on Idia’s desk and goes out of your line of sight, seemingly to tidy or something. You don’t really care. He’s not your ally. He’s never been.

Idia sighs, then goes back to working on something on his desk. You don’t know how much time passes, but he loops it around your throat and unties you. It’s sitting a bit lower on your neck, just against your collarbones. There’s a three-tap warning, but no shock afterward. Just the flat look on Idia’s face.

“I should start calling you ‘baby’, kitten. It’d be so much easier for you to understand your position.”

“That’s not funny.” You say, “I never asked you to bring me here.”

Idia shrugs, “Well, I don’t think of you as a pet. With the way you act, you might as well be a pest.” He grins, sharp teeth on display, “Maybe I should put out some glue traps… or start dosing you with raw garlic and ivermectin.”

He starts laughing, and you feel your eyes well with tears. You tell yourself it's the pregnancy hormones. Idia laughs harder at your expression.

“Aw, kitten, I’m just teasing. Come sit with me.”

“But I-” That three-tap warning from your new collar cuts you off. You stand up and start walking the two steps between the bed and Idia’s desk. When you reach your hands towards the collar, it zaps you. It’s quick and not too painful, but it gets you moving towards Idia. When you take a seat on his lap, he leans to bury his nose in your hair, a thrilled noise escaping him. He drops the burn cream in your lap.

He just watches you as you unscrew the lid and reach for your neck. There’s a three-tap warning again- bzz bzz bzz- but you ignore it. The second your fingers barely graze your throat with the cream, you get zapped, short and swift, but uncomfortable enough. You drop your hand and it goes away. When you look up at Idia, he takes the cream from your other hand and presses a soft kiss to your cheek, using his free hand to click into one of his many tabs for some anime streaming site.

“Good. It works.” Is all he says.

As he dabs the cream onto the electrical burns on your neck, you have to blink away the despair again. It’s settled over you like a blanket, eaten holey by moths and worms. Every move you make is accompanied by tentative fear, a worry that Idia will do something awful if you do certain things. You never once considered it would go this far, though. Ortho drops something onto Idia’s bed, a hefty-looking luggage set, and Idia pays him no mind as he tucks away some clothes. You don’t want to admit it, but you don’t want to be around any more people under Idia’s thumb, whether they know it or not.

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