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morallygreyprompts · 4 years ago

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Bad Things Happen Bingo 3.0 #8

Defeated and Trophified

Characters: Hero and Villain

Warnings: Contains kidnapping, keeping a person a trophy/pet, beatings, and putting a person on display

Villain collapsed down on their knees, battered and exhausted. Hero had finally gotten the better of them. They’d found new power, found a way to stop their own. Villain had been so sure that they could finally put an end to this fight, that they could win, that the years of struggling for their cause would be worth it.

Now they were on all fours with Hero fast approaching. They snarled and tried to get back up on shaking legs, but Hero grabbed them by their hair and drove their knee up into their face and threw them back down. Villain fell with a thump and wheezed. “So n.now what?” they managed. “Prison?”

Hero smirked, and it filled Villain with dread. They tried to summon their powers once more, but there was nothing. “Much better than that. I convinced authorities I would be the only one who’d be able to contain you. To keep you out of trouble, and of course, being the [Hero] I am, you’d be well looked after.”

Villain’s stomach writhed with unease. Goosebumps rose on their skin. “That’s not happening,” they ground out. Hero swooped forward and grabbed them by the hair again. “Yes, it is.” They yanked hard, making Villain bring their hands up to try to pry them off, giving Hero the chance to loop one of the shackles onto their wrist. From there, they dragged their arm behind their back, pinned them to the floor, and secured their other wrist.

“I will kill you for this,” Villain panted.

“If you can get free. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you. You’re my greatest trophy, my finest achievement. I’ve stopped you, and now you’re mine,” Hero purred. Villain shuddered. “You’re even worse than me,” they mumbled. Hero turned them over and held them by the throat. “It’s more than you deserve.”

Villain snarled, they knew there was no getting out of this, but it didn’t stop them trying to lash out. Hero was prepared, and a sudden jolt of electrical power made Villain yelp and stop their struggles. They hated this so much.

Hero began to squeeze, and Villain panicked, desperately trying to get them off, doing whatever they could, which only earned them more painful zaps. They tried to whimper, knowing Hero wasn’t going to let go until they passed out, perhaps worse. Their lip parted to try to draw sweet air but there was nothing.

“Nap time,” Hero smirked, and then there was nothing.

Villain woke in a bright room, laying on their back. They groaned and sat up, pausing when they realised they were in shackles, gold-plated ones at that. They frowned, struggling to fit all the pieces together in their mind. They’d been with Hero…

They gulped. Oh… Right… Hero had claimed them. Villain was their prisoner now, a spoil of war, a trophy, perhaps even a pet. They didn’t know where Hero would draw the line.

They stood on shaky legs and tried to use their powers out of curiosity, but yet again, nothing happened. Villain’s best guess was that they’d included the power blocker in the shackles or golden bars of their cage.

Villain made to put their hands in their pockets, but realised when they looked down they were even in different clothes. Dressed up just as Hero wanted. Villain curled up their lip in disgust. They couldn’t wait to escape and get the hell out of here. They’d give up their goals, fair enough, and go into hiding, but they were not staying here.

They heard footsteps and turned around to see Hero smirking. “You’re awake. You like your pretty cage?” “Obviously not, creep. Let me go, this is ridiculous.”

“You’re going to be here for the rest of your days if I have anything to say about it.” “Then shut up, and let me go,” Villain retorted.

“On your knees in the middle of the cell. I’ll have some guests over shortly, and I intend to make sure you’re ready for them.”

Villain wasn’t going to obey their every order, but Hero wasn’t going to wait.There was a cog at either side of the cage. They smirked and pulled on them, shortening the chains, leaving Villain’s arms outstretched. Hero smirked and opened the door of the cage. Villain tried to step back out of instinct but got nowhere. Hero suddenly lashed out, beating Villain around the face and head. Villain couldn’t do anything about it. They couldn’t defend themselves.

Hero continued until they were out of breath and Villain was on the floor, only being held up by their arms. Villain couldn’t stop Hero from securing their legs to the floor, from gagging them with a bit gag and blindfolding them. They tried to whisper a plea but it was ignored. Hero had the decency to give them a little more chain, so their arms weren’t almost coming out of the sockets, but it was still uncomfortable.

Hero chuckled and slapped Villain’s cheek a few times. “Get used to your new life. On show for everyone to see, for me to do what the hell I want. Oh, [Villain] if only you knew how sweet victory tasted.”

Villain shuddered, already struggling with drool, struggling to stay conscious because of the beating which no doubt had left them covered in bruises. “Our first guests will be here soon, I do hope you enjoy yourself.”

Villain tried to scream at them, but then they heard the door shut. They were left alone to their suffering.

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#bad things happen bingo #hero and villain #defeated and trophified #whump #whump writing #hero #villain #villain whump #bad hero #oof the drama

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danzanelfuoco · 3 years ago

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Prompt: Defeated and Trophified @badthingshappenbingo

With their head held higher

Fandom: Grishaverse - Leigh Bardugo Ship: The Darkling/Alina Starkov Rating: Teen and Up audience Major Tags: unhealthy relationship, side Alina/Mal, canon divergence from the end of Shadow and Bone, manipulative Darkling, gaslighting, Asshole Book!Mal Oretsev

Summary: She’s dignified. As a Saint should be. She walks right by his side, her hands folded on her abdomen, her chin held up, her bone collar exposed for everyone to see, the golden embroidery on her black kefta almost shining of its own light. She never smiles. Neither does the Darkling. (Even if he won). You can have the Sun Summoner. You can have the Sankta Alina. You won’t have me. We’ll see.

#bad things happen bingo #defeated and trophified #darklina #unhealthy relationship

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dracopetal · 1 year ago

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For the 'Defeated and Trophified' spot on my board, prompted by @indigo-scarf

@badthingshappenbingo

My Love is a Curse

Beta read by rei382

Summary: Madness is the destiny of the Malfoy line.

Fandom: Harry Potter

Ship: Draco/Harry

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Implied murder, implied suicide, extreme delusions, light necrophilia

words: 2905

#hp #harry potter #draco malfoy #drarry #my writing #bad things happen bingo

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5-falsehoods-phonated · 4 years ago

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(Prompts with boxes have been taken, highlighted have been written)

Requests for this card are closed, thank you to anyone who sent in requests! Completed stories are planned to be posted all through December and most likely into January, so if you don’t want to see them you can block the tag #false bthb. As always shoot me an ask if you wanna be tagged in future stories!

I received this request from @atlasistryingherbest, I hope you like it!

All Dolled Up

Summary: Fearing Roman’s newfound obsessions after the events of SvS Redux, Patton decides to break things off with him before they can get worse. If only he realized just how bad it could be. Written as a request from tumblr.

Warnings: bruises, forced confinement, threatening with a weapon, unsympathetic -if there are more let me know

Ships: Royality, Roman x Patton

Prompt: Defeated and Trophified

“You can’t-!”

“Roman!” Patton reached out to him with a desperate plea, trying to scramble to find the right words that would make all of this okay. “Everything’s gonna be okay, kiddo.’

Mentally berating himself as hurt flashed in Roman’s eyes he nevertheless held his gaze in earnest. “We love you.”

“Right.” Thoroughly dejected Patton watched as Roman sunk out, shame tinting his cheeks as he tried to make it seem like he had everything together, despite the lesson he had just learned not ten minutes before. He was grateful as Janus and Thomas reassured him but he couldn’t keep his thoughts from drifting to the image of Roman alone in his room, having to ride out his conflicting emotions on his own and the miserable expression never leaving his face as he did so. That wasn’t the way to leave things with the prince, that wasn’t the way to leave things with anyone but especially someone he cared so deeply for and shared so much with.

Mind made up after he was sure Thomas would be alright with Janus he quickly sunk out to the regular common room, seeing no sign of anyone let alone Roman he made his way up the stairs and towards the door he had walked to so many times it was muscle memory at this point. All the sides had different kinds of relationships with each other, whether it was familial, platonic or romantic and Patton and Roman were certainly no exception. With their shared enthusiasm fo the things they were interested, their strong urge to take care of the members of their family and Thomas and their passion to make other happy no matter what it was never really a stretch to imagine the two of them together; so it came as a surprise to know one when just that ended up happening.

The mindscape had certainly been a brighter, happier place since they had made their relationship official, even if Virgil did cringe and scoff teasingly while Logan simply rolled his eyes and requested if they they were going to engage in public displays of affection then to please do it elsewhere or at least warn him so he could leave the room. Hand holding, hugs from behind, cheesy musical numbers, forehead touches, cuddles at movie night- nothing was below them when it came to showing their love for one another. But everything started to change when Janus began to come around, especially since Patton was the first one he had impersonated.It had hit Roman hard that he hadn’t recognized the deceitful side until later on ,and no amount of Patton telling him that that’s what he did and was supposed to do and he wouldn't be Deceit if he wasn’t good at well...deceiving could convince Roman of anything other than Janus was a horrible person from that day forward. A villain meant to be shunned and punished like any other Disney villain should be. At first Patton had somewhat agreed with him but as time passed he began to doubt that notion more and more...until today he realized he needed to take a step back and really evaluate what it was that Janus contributed to their family as a whole.

He lamented his mistakes of how he handled Janus’ situation- all of the “dark sides” situations really. All they were doing was their jobs how they knew how to do them, and maybe their methods were a bit misguided but so were his own to an extent. He needed to learn how to adapt and let go of past misconceptions- and that came with getting Roman to understand that as well.

He stopped short of knocking on the Prince’s door to listen for any sound coming through, from his or any of the other doors. He figured Logan wouldn’t be particularly happy to have been dismissed and replaced yet again but that was something to unpack and fix on another day. So Logan and Virgil would most likely be boiled up in their respective rooms waiting for the figurative fire to die down before venturing out again. Remus was most likely preoccupied with something Janus had left him to keep him busy and away from making Thomas’ mental state even more scattered than it already was and Janus himself was going to be occupied with their manifestor for at least a couple more hours after everything that had happened. He and Roman would have plenty of time to themselves then to work out what needed worked out for them to hopefully be okay again.

Taking a deep breath he tentatively knocked on the door and, hearing no answer, knocked a bit more firmly before easing it open and glancing quickly around the room before his gaze landed on Roman. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, still in his rumpled prince costume with his hands folded between his knees and his eyes shining with unshed tears as he made stubborn, steady eye contact with the floor. Patton sighed quietly as he stepped inside, shutting the door behind him and carefully stepping over to sit beside the other.

“Roman-”

“Am I-”

They both stopped as they started at the same time, Roman ducking his head down further and angrily swiping tears off his cheeks. Patton was thankful when the hand he placed on the others knee was left there, looking back up at Roman’s face and smiling kindly. “Go on Roman, I wanted to hear your thoughts.”

“You’re about the only one.” Roman muttered, looking away and towards the door as if debating how quickly he could run and hide somewhere else before his shoulders dropped as he resigned himself to his fate. “Patton, am I..am I still needed?”

Patton gasped quietly, squeezing his knee tightly. “Of course, why would you think-”

“Because if Deciet is coming around, being accepted...if he’s going to be a part of things now...I don’t know what that means for us. For Thomas.” Roman finally turned to face him, his eyes shining earnestly. “I always thought him the villain, someone to vanquish when his deceitful means seeped into the mindspace too much, someone to wave my sword at to defend my and everyone else's honor. But if he isn’t the villain...and I was in the wrong...doesn’t that then make me-”

“Please don’t finish that sentence.” Patton gently took Roma’s face in his hands and leaned closer, making sure to capture his eyes. “You are not the villain Roamn, you never could be. Sometimes...well sometimes there doesn’t even have to be one and that’s okay. Things are changing and that’s okay.”

Roman scoffed quietly. “Patton, you’re the one who likes change the least out of all of us.”

“Which is why I’m the one that needs it the most.” Roman was quiet at that, closing his eyes and leaning his forehead against Patton’s softly, making him small and moving his hands from Roman’s cheeks to loop around the back of his neck gently. It was comforting and quiet, neither of them wanting to move and speak again in fear of ruining the temporary standstill they had come to. Eventually Patton shifted, pressing his lips softly to the prince’s nose and smiling when he was rewarded with a soft laugh.

“It’ll be okay, Roman you’ll see. Everything always works itself out.”

“But what if something happens? We can’t just leave him with Thomas.”

Patton grinned at him sheepishly. “Well...he’s already with Thoams and has been since I left. Nothing bad has happened yet has it?”

Roman’s lips thinned as he looked down at his lap, twisting his fingers in an uncharacteristically nervous way. “What does that mean for me? I- I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.” He looked up imploringly. “You- Patton you need to be there when I mess up. I still trust you to know right from wrong and if you’re there to keep me in check I’ll be their hero again!”

“That’s not quite how-”

“No it’s perfect; I’ll just tell you everything I’ll do before I do it and you can say yes or no and then I won’t mess up again!”

“Sweetheart I can’t do that.”

“Patton no you have to! Everyone already hates me, I have to do better, I can’t just- not be better.”

Patton grasped his hands and squeezed, hoping to distract Roman from his spiraling thoughts. “Nobody hates you honey, I swear on my honor as a side of Thomas. But I can’t be there all the time. We’re going to make mistakes going forward, and the ones we’ve already made are still going to hurt, but all we can do is try our best and let that be enough. I wasn’t lying when I said we still love you.”

He brought Roman’s hands up to his lips and planted a chaste kiss on the knuckles. “And I will never lie when I say I still love you, Roman. We aren’t our mistakes, we are the growth that comes from them. It’s going to be okay.”

Patton wasn’t sure if Roman truly understood but accepted the other nodding his head anyway, even if Roman did look incredibly deep in thought. It had been a long day for all of them, they both just needed some rest and hope that the next day would be a better one. Nodding to himself, Patton stood and gently ran his fingers through Roman's hair. “It’s getting late. Wanna watch a movie and cuddle before bed?”

Roman leaned into the gesture and moved to reach for his laptop; Patton, taking that as an agreement, snapped them both into their pajamas and summoned a fluffier blanket for them to snuggle under. Any more conversation could wait for tomorrow, now was the time to wind down with his favorite person in the mindscape.

-----

The next few days...weeks...worries Patton to say the least.

Roman could never be found less than a few feet from his side, and although he’d usually find it sweet and endearing the way his every movement was tracked like he was small prey being hunted had begun to make him twitchy. If the others noticed they didn’t say anything, which made Patton feel as if he was simply overreacting and just more jumpy than usual from the frog incident. He giggled at the thought- that would certainly make sense.

But it wasn't just that. Despite their heart to heart Roman was consulting him before nearly every decision he made, down to whether he put creamer in his coffee since that might be taking away from the others. Patton had hoped this phase would only last a couple of days and then they could move on but it honestly didn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon. He was loath to speak to the others about it since everyone was still a bit touchy and Roman couldn’t be shaken long enough to talk to anyone else in private anyway. Which left talking to Roam about it himself.

Which Patton...also didn’t want to do. He loved Roman with his entire being, and their relationship had always been a steady, even give and take. They had pretty good communication considering their individual track records and always made sure to set and respect boundaries, but with Roman being a bit testier...to say the least. More demandant for answers that Patton simply didn’t want or feel the need to give. Picking what T.V. show to watch, especially if it was just the two of them was not an entire dilemma that needed solving before they could move on!

And yet...when he didn’t answer, Roman had started to get more and more demandant. Throughout their relationship Roman had never once raised his voice at him, but it was becoming more and more a constant occurrence. He needed constant reassurance that he was doing fine and no one hated him and Patton still loved him which he would normally be happy to give, but it was so much. It was too much for any side alone to undertake upholding an entire sides’ mental health. To the point where he could feel his own slipping, and still he said nothing. For the first time in his existence Patton was almost...afraid of Roman. He had so many outbursts now and his movements towards Patton were always so jerky and it made him twitch away which only meant Roamn needed more reassurance and so the cycle continued. But enough was enough.

Breaking things off with Roman was surprisingly easy for how much his stomach was twisting with the nerves. Roman remained passive through it, expression so neutral you could pretend they were discussing the weather or what tp have for breakfast the next day. He was so afraid, so ready to have to call on another side for help, but he shouldn't have and he immediately felt incredibly silly for even having the thoughts. This was Roman, and Roman would never hurt him no matter how much he was spiraling right now. He’d wait a little longer for everything to cool off and then they’d have a meeting and discuss how to move forward. Simple. Then maybe when both he and Roman gained more solid ground to stand on they could try again and everything would fall perfectly back into place.

-----

That night Patton crawled into bed alone for the first time in years, missing the warmth of strong arms wrapped around his middle and holding him close until morning. He consoled himself with the thought that things weren’t completely over between them; it was just a small break. Everybody needed those from time to time and Roman had understood completely. He had just settled in to sleep for the night when his eyes snapped open suddenly. What was that?

He sat up in bed and listened carefully, sure he hadn’t been imagining the sound. Just as he was about to shrug it off and lay back down he heard it again faintly.

“Patton.”

The voice was so faint but now that he had heard it there was no mistaking it. Ripping off the bed sheets he hurried to his door and swung it open, listening carefully to hear the voice again.

“Patton.”

Moving to the stairs and rushing down them he turned into the living room and gasped at what he saw before him.

“Patton.” Janus’ voice was relieved but pained, tugging at the restraints that held him fast to the back of the rather small cage he was being held in. Dark bruises littered his face and his eyes blinked slowly as he struggled to focus on Patton. Rushing to the door of the cage Patton fiddled with lock as he looked desperately around for a key, his mind whirling too fast to form a coherent thought.

“Janus who did this? How can I get you out?”

“Patton you need to leave me.”

“I- what?” But you called me down, he wanted to say, shaking the thought away. Janus was clearly in no position to voice coherent thoughts. “No. We need to get you out. Do you know where the key is? We can start there.”

“You need to leave, I deserve this. I’m the villain- I deserve to be punished.”

Patton’s eyes widened, shaking his head vehemently. “No. No, you don’t, don’t talk like that. You deserve just as much as any other side and right now that means not being locked in a cage.”

Janus coughed out a laugh weakly. “Are you sure about that?”

“Of course, honey. Let me just-” Frustrated Patton shook the bars of the cage, pausing when Janus locked eyes with him, a steady glare boring into his very being.

“Wrong choice, love.”

-----

Patton cowered in the far corner of the cage, eyes tracking Roman’s pacing fearfully as his wrists rubbed raw above his head. He still couldn’t dispel the image of Janus’ face melting into Roman’s, the cage falling apart only to wrap around and trap him instead as Roamn had straightened in front of him, eyes filled with nothing but passive disdain as Patton had pleaded desperately, mind confusingly fuzzy and still trying to comprehend what had happened. The had sunk out into Roman’s room, where he had been pulled to the far side of the cage and tied to the bars so that there was no chance of jiggling the lock on the far side to escape, leaving him trapped and scared and at the mercy of whatever it was Roman had become in the face of his perceived rejection.

Suddenly a knock was heard at the door, Patton tensing as the tip of Roman’s sword was thrust in front of his face.

“Roman? Patton? It’s after 9, Lo made breakfast.” Virgil’s voice came through the door. Roman nodded his head, an unspoken warning in his eyes as he gestured for Patton to go ahead.

Swallowing hard, Patton called out. “We’re both in here kiddo! Just- finishing up a project; might take a bit though.” He struggled to contain himself, to contain the anxiety rolling off him in waves so Virgil wouldn’t sense it and god forbid become suspicious. He needed to keep everyone safe, even at his own cost.

There was a pause, and then: “Are you guys sure? I can bring something up.”

“No need hun, thank you though. We’ll get something in a bit.”

“Okay.” They both listened as the footsteps faded away before Roman turned to face Patton, grinning wickedly.

“So, my heart; what is it that we’re doing today?”

Patton swallowed against, tears pricking at his eyes. “Getting rid of Jan- Deceit.”

“Good.” Roman moved the sword to gently caress his cheek. “And you’re going to do exactly as I say. I’d hate for this beautiful face to become just as deformed as that snake’s.”

He snapped his fingers and Patton’s pajamas were changed out for his regular attire, albeit a nicer variation of it. He could feel makeup cake his face thinly and he knew from the weight in his hair that his favorite barrettes had been pinned in neatly. Roman smiled and reached in to cup his cheek gently and Patton felt himself leaning into the touch despite the spike of fear he felt.

“There,” The prince crooned. “A sweet little doll to puppet as I please. Deceit never could resist coming too close to what was out of his league now could he?”

Stifling a sob by biting his lip Patton could only watch as Roman moved away to begin concocting another illusion that would draw in Janus later that day. Hanging his head in shame, he sagged against his confines, feeling the ropes dig into his wrists and the cage run painfully against his spine. A useless doll thrown to a corner, forgotten in its disuse after its purpose was met.

This work is also available on AO3!

#false writes #false bthb #bthb #bad things happen bingo #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #unsympathetic roman #tw violence #captivity tw #defeated and trophified #roman sanders #deciet sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders #sanders sides angst #cage tw #bruising tw

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fallenqueen2 · 4 years ago

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Far More Precious [The Untamed]

Title: Far More Precious

Author: FallenQueen2

Fandom: The Untamed

Pairing: Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji/ Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian

Status: Complete, 1/1

Challenge: Bad Things Happen Bingo - BLACKOUT CARD-

Square: Defeated and Trophified

@badthingshappenbingo

Main Tags: badthingshappenbingo, defeated and trophified, Prisoner of War, collared and shackled, canon level violence, Yiling Patriarch Wei Ying

Wen Ruohan was hiding inside his palace with his stolen pieces of Yin Iron and something far more precious to Wei Wuxian than anyone could ever fathom.

Read On Ao3

Wei Wuxian’s fingers tightened around Chenqing, the black and red flute creaking under the pressure of his grip. Resentful energy swirled around him, clinging to his robes and plastering itself to any bit of free skin it could find as Wei Wuxian stood on top of the roof of the palace in the Nightless city taking in the large scale battle that was happening in the courtyard below. Colourful dots fought against the bright red of the Wen clan, but his target was not among them. Wen Ruohan was hiding inside his palace with his stolen pieces of Yin Iron and something far more precious to Wei Wuxian than anyone could ever fathom.

During his time hunting and haunting Wen Chao, he had learned what had happened the three months he had spent in the Burial Mounds. Nothing good of course, the Sunshot campaign was in full swing and ever so slowly the Wen Clan was losing. Yet they seemed confident and Wei Wuxian had found out why.

A few weeks before Wei Wuxian left the Burial Mounds, there had been an ambush and Hanguang Jun had been taken. Now he resided in the Nightless City by Wen Ruohan’s feet, chained like a slave under the guise of him being a prisoner of war.

Resentful energy lashed out around Wei Wuxian as his hatred grew at the mere thought of Lan Zhan being collared at that monster’s feet like a dog. The screaming voices in his mind called out to him, urged him to take back what was his and ruin all those who stood in his path.

Wei Wuxian wanted nothing more than to that, to see Wen Ruohan’s head on a spike and whisk Lan Zhan away from the horror that no doubt he was enduring however, he was smarter than that. Wei Wuxian had stayed away from the other sect’s, even when he spotted Jiang Cheng and Shijie in one of the camps below. It took everything he had not to run to them and break apart in their arms, but the resentful energy tugged him away reminding him of Lan Zhan and Wei Wuxian turned his back on his sworn siblings and moved on.

Now the battle turned against the gathered sect members in the courtyard below as the Yin Iron turned the dead into puppets and Wei Wuxian twirled Chenqing, itching to begin his plan and turn the power of the Yin Iron against Wen Ruohan with his Stygian Tiger Seal and show that dictator the true meaning of power. The resentful energy writhed and screeched in their approval and a smirk appeared on his lips as the sound of the large doors of the palace opening echoed out and the seal burned from its place in a hidden and warded pocket above his heart.

Showtime.

Wei Wuxian coated himself in resentful energy and leapt above the courtyard to land silently on the top of the archway leading into the courtyard so he could see the palace entrance clearly. What he witnessed had him snarling as the resentful energy shrieked in outrage on his behalf.

Wen Ruohan was out in the open now with a vicious smile on his haggard face, a thick chain was held in his hand and attached to the other end was Lan Zhan, clad in what could only be described as courtesan robes in Wen red baring far more skin that Lan Zhan ever would and every inch of revealed skin was marred with some sort of wound fresh or old. A chunky collar was tight around his bloodied neck, the shackles were obvious around his wrists and ankles as he was forced to kneel by Wen Ruohan’s side like a dog.

Wei Wuxian brought Chenqing to his lips, eyes turning red as he took in the brutal-looking muzzle that was locked over Lan Zhan’s mouth and his forehead ribbon was gone. Yet Lan Zhan’s eyes looked the same, there was fire within the deadly gaze that made Wei Wuxian smile against his flute.

Wei Wuxian listened to the screams of outrage from the gathered sect members below when they caught sight of Hanguang Jun at Wen Ruohan’s feet and the three pieces of Yin Iron hovering above his hand. Wei Wuxian began to play and haunting flute music spread around the Nightless City.

One by one the puppets under Wen Ruohan’s control turned on each, leaving the still alive sect members alive and Wei Wuxian spotted Lan Xichen flying up the grand staircase towards where Wen Ruohan was keeping his brother hostage, Nie Mingjue was on his heels with Baxia held high.

Wei Wuxian allowed the resentful energy to propel him over to where Lan Zhan was still held captive as he played intently. Wen Ruohan was bellowing nonsense, asking the other sect leader’s who were taking up their battle stances to kill the Wen dictator and rescue Lan Zhan who was yanking at the collar and muzzle in an attempt to escape but it only was causing his fingernails to tear apart and bleed what they had done to his Yin Iron.

Lan Zhan spotted the cloud of resentful energy first and made a muffled noise behind the muzzle and his eyes went wide as the black mist receded to wave and writhe behind Wei Wuxian’s back.

“Wei Wuxian?” Lan Xichen’s voice was coloured with shock and disbelief as his appearance caught the group’s attention.

Wei Wuxian simply smiled as he played Chenqing and tendrils of resentful energy shot out, breaking apart the collar, muzzle and shackles that bound Lan Zhan before the energy twisted around Lan Zhan, dragging him away from Wen Ruohan until he was safely behind Wei Wuxian.

“You! You’re the one who had been killing my men and now you’re interfering with my Yin Iron!” Wen Ruohan howled in anger, pointing his sword at Wei Wuxian. The man was distracted and angry, allowing Nie Mingjue to lunge forward and shoving Baxia through the man’s chest.

Wen Ruohan coughed up blood as he stared down at the thick blade that was sticking out of his chest before it was ripped out and he collapsed to the ground, bleeding out instantly.

Wei Wuxian changed the music he was playing and one by one the puppets collapsed, dying properly. The Stygian Tiger Seal hovered out of his robes and slowly the four pieces of Yin Iron swirled together above their heads as Wei Wuxian played a brutal and violent tune, fingers slowly dripping blood from how hard he was pressing on the holes of the bamboo flute while blood trickled from his nose, eyes and ears as he put everything he had into his command.

There was an explosion of resentful energy as the gathered pieces of Yin Iron exploded into nothing but dust. Wei Wuxian’s arms dropped to his side as he staggered, feeling light head and completely worn down. An arm appeared behind his back, guiding him against a solid and somehow familiar body.

“Ah, Lan Zhan, you’re okay.” Wei Wuxian gave a bloody, shaky smile as he peered up at the man who was holding him.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan’s voice was choked, expressionless face covered in an emotion Wei Wuxian couldn’t place.

“I’m fine Lan Zhan, honest.” Wei Wuxian laughed before coughing and spitting out a mouthful of blood as he felt resentful energy slither over his limbs under his robes, their usual anger and shrieks silent in his mind for once even as black spots covered his vision.

“Wei Ying!” Lan Zhan’s voice raised in something akin to panic as the black cloud engulfed Wei Wuxian and when it finally disappeared the man was no one to be seen.

Lan Zhan collapsed to his knees in grief and pain as Wei Wuxian once again slipped between his fingers, his brother at his side instantly and Lan Zhan allowed himself to pass out but the promise to find Wei Ying burring in his mind.

A year later the rumours started up, that Hanguang Jun had entered the Burial Mounds and disappeared never to be seen again. Yet another rumour countered that by saying that a man who dresses in white like moonlight and walks alongside the Yiling Patriarch as his lover and equal.

Lan Xichen would just smile and wave off the rumours as he knew for a fact that Lan Wangji was happy where he was and that was by Wei Wuxian’s side.

#the untamed #mdzs #bad things happen bingo #Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji #Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian #defeated and trophified #collared and shackled #canon level violence #sunshot campaign #yiling patriarch Wei Ying #fallenqueen2

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badger-writes · 4 years ago

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Chapters: 8/? Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence Characters: Greedo (Star Wars), Anakin Skywalker, Qui-Gon Jinn, Doda Bodonawieedo Additional Tags: Bad Things Happen Bingo, Whump, Canon-Typical Violence, POV Greedo, Not Beta Read, greedo is a hot mess of a sentient, qui gon jinn's A+ parenting, Fusion of Star Wars Legends and Disney Canon, Greedo-centric, accidental self-mutilation, Vampiric Draining, Kidnapping, Hand Gagging, Standing Cuffs, Defeated & Trophified, Carbonite Freezing (Star Wars) Summary:

Bad things happen.

To Greedo, specifically.

#bad things happen bingo #star wars #greedo #fanfic #prompt fill #defeated and trophified

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whump-cravings · 3 years ago

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The Harem - Conquered

Masterlist

758 words | AU of Original Work: The Royal Three. Prince Lieutenant Hakon started his two year tour of service a year and a half ago at age 19. Vusen began its campaign against Ironda six months ago and has been steadily winning victories against the smaller nation. During a vicious battle, Hakon finds himself the highest-ranking officer on the field when his superiors fall en masse.

Content: war whump, holding out against impossible odds, defiant whumpee, shot, stabbed, profanity, knife chin tilt, whumper/caretaker POV, taken captive

customary first-AU-piece taglist: @nabanna @emcscared-whumps @whumpy-writings @nicolepascaline @i-can-even-burn-salad @dont-touch-my-soup @annablogsposts @melennui @suspicious-whumping-egg. This piece has no nsfw themes but eventually those will come into the story!

The Irondan officer cut through soldier after soldier, a host unto himself. By now, he had lost his breastplate, he was bleeding from several places, and one arm hung limply at his side, but each new injury only seemed to fuel him.

Somehow, after Vusen's sharpshooters had successfully picked off a majority of the enemy commanders, the Irondans had rallied in the face of utter, devastating defeat. Watching this masterpiece of a man, Colonel Sevae had little doubt who had pulled them back together. Even now, Irondan soldiers followed the man like a spearhead.

Reluctant as Sevae was, it was time to put an end to this. - Cut him off. Pin him down.

A platoon drove a wedge between the Irondan commander and his troops, separating him, then four squads blasted magic at him from four directions. The officer was forced to a stop, bracing against the assault. He looked around as if realizing his predicament for the first time.

- Hold your fire, Sevae ordered the nearest sharpshooter teams as they took aim. Something about the flow of magic caught Sevae's attention. He squinted, but couldn't see fine detail from this distance. Picking one of the mages firing on the man, he formed a telepathic link. - Lend me your sight. The scene revealed itself through the mage's eyes a moment later.

The Irondan was deflecting each bolt of magic off his shield, lessening the impact and tuning the angles to fly off into Vusen troops. How was it possible to respond to individual trajectories so quickly? Not only that, but he was siphoning off loose mana in each attack.

- Shoot him somewhere non-vital, Sevae ordered Haeum.

- I'll do my best, sir. The sharpshooter took careful aim. From this distance, a bolt would pierce through plate.

To the sergeants at the front, Sevae said, - I want him alive.

A moment later, the Irondan went down on a knee, bolt protruding from his thigh. Even with this, the man started to struggle to his feet, drawing his sword back as if to throw it. It was blasted from his hand as the Vusen soldiers closed in.

Sevae urged his mount into motion, trotting to where the Irondan was being wrestled into submission. At least one person suffered from a headbutt in the time it took the colonel to get there.

"You're defeated," Sevae said. "Order your troops to surrender."

"Fuck you," the man snarled, lunging at Sevae from between the men that held him. It was reminiscent of a chained dog. One of the soldiers kicked the Irondan's knees from behind, sending him to the ground. His face twisted in pain and rage, his breathing heavy.

The colonel dismounted, stepping close and reaching for the man. He snatched his hand back as the Irondan snapped at it. Reconsidering, Sevae unsheathed a dagger and used the blade to tilt the man's chin up.

"You did well to hold so long," he said, letting a touch of admiration into his voice. "Now, if you care for your people, you'll order them to stand down."

The Irondan glared balefully at him from a single eye, the other encrusted with blood. After a moment, he spat, "Fine. Take the bolt out."

Sevae raised a brow, but gestured a nearby mage forward. "Take it out and stem the bleeding." He kept the Irondan at knifepoint while placing a hand on his head (out of biting range) to listen in on his telepathic communique.

- Romos, the man said.

- Sir! Are you alright? We saw the Vusens—

He closed his eye. - They have me. Rage simmered beneath his words.

There was hesitation from the other end. - Then—

His eye snapped open, shining with determination, words rushing over the link. - Fall back and protect the royal fam—

Sevae sent buzzing magic interference through the man, disrupting the communication. "Get me dampening manacles."

"Fuck y..." gasped the Irondan, sweat on his brow and lip, eyes unfocused, twisting in the hands holding him, "Fuck you."

Once the man's hands were securely bound behind his back, Sevae let go. The Irondan sagged, drawing in ragged breaths.

"Take him to camp," Sevae commanded as he returned to his horse. "Bind his wounds."

"You'll regret not killing me," the man growled as he was pulled to his feet, teeth bared. He swayed despite the support, his color less hearty now that exhaustion and blood loss was setting in.

"Survive before you make threats," the colonel ordered, spurring his warhorse towards the front.

#whump writing #taken captive #knife chin tilt #war #whumper POV #caretaker POV #defiant whumpee #royalty whump #royal whump #defeated #not yet trophified but that's coming later #Sevae is Looking Respectfully #shot in the leg #shot with an arrow #it's a bolt but close enough #Prince Hakon Nitasi #The Harem #mars writes #no editing we die like men

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whumpwillow · 4 years ago

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whump tropes i like

by no means an exhaustive list as I’m sure there’s more I’m forgetting, but here’s quite a few (mostly garnered from various posts and bthb cards)

—

hiding an injury

knife to the throat

forced to beg

broken ribs

slammed into a wall

stumbling and staggering

trapped in a net

bruises

shot with an arrow

buried alive

impaled palm

grabbed by the hair

through the cold

used as bait

‘more expendable than you’

‘take me instead’

locked in a cage

hand stomp

carved mark

tied to a chair

shock collar

collared and chained

painful wound cleaning

‘leave me alone’

worked himself to exhaustion

nightmares

taking the blame (for what, idk)

self-loathing

sleep deprivation

‘dont you dare pity me’

cry into chest

fever

voice breaking

backhand slap

black eye

‘it’s all my fault’

crying themselves to sleep

prisoner exchange

touch starved

no anesthetic

defeated and trophified

caretaker kissing whumpee’s scars

caretakers gently changing the dressings/bandages of whumpee's wounds and murmuring soothing nothings as they hiss and wince in pain

Brushing their hand through the whumpee’s hair to soothe them

holding them while they cry

Sitting with whumpee while they have their wounds treated, maybe letting them grip their hand as some way of dealing with the pain

Helping whumpee get up when they fall/ helping them walk by letting the whumpee brace themselves on them

Letting the whumpee rest their head on their chest or shoulder

lost their voice from screaming

stitches

whipping

power fatigue / exhaustion

hair matted with blood

caretaker cradling whumpee in their arms

electrocution

muzzled

hiding an illness

conditioning / conditioned whumpees

locked up and left behind

damaged wings

shaking and shivering

grabbed by the chin

hidden scar

passing out from the pain

‘please don’t leave me’

forced to participate in prize fight

taunting

humiliation

captivity

beaten with a cane

panic attack

vivisection

traumatic touch aversion

betrayal

grabbed by the hair

trail of blood

hurts to breathe

‘dont let them see you cry’

on a leash

surrender

shackled / handcuffed

forced to hurt someone

dehumanization

tearful smile

black eye

blindfolded

clawing at own throat

flashbacks

trying not to cry

banished

broken / bloody nose

kick them while theyre down

dissociation

dragged by the ankle

nervous breakdown

bloodstained clothes

fever

bundled up in blankets

betrayal

losing their temper

caught in a storm

bleeding through the bandages

hypothermia

rejected apology

broken angel

magical curse

used in sacrifice / ritual

chained to a wall

survivor’s guilt

tied to a pole

outnumbered in a fight

‘get it over with’

hyperventilating

trust issues

on the run

bounty on their head

hostage video

dragging themselves along the ground

isolation

made a slave

public execution / torture

pleading

reluctant caretaker

misunderstanding

wrongfully accused / arrested

loneliness

‘should have been better’

made a lab rat

trying not to cry

undeserved reputation

branding

pleading

disowned by family / team

hallucinations

forced to kneel / bow

enemy turned caretaker

unhealthy coping mechanisms

bedside vigil

coughing up blood

fainting

memory loss / amnesia

rage against the reflection

delirium

prank gone wrong

compelled / ensorcelled

self blame

disproportionate retribution

truth potion / serum

magical exhaustion

cleaning Whumpers shoes

nervously tapping the bell on their collar

accidental confessions

sorry for the long post, its not letting me add a readmore with the bullets :>

#probably repeated a few of these #feel free to take any because none of them are mine #so many tw warnings #too many to tag them all so just ask for specific ones if you dont wanna see this post #whump #whump tropes #whump trope #whump list #trope #tropes #good tropes #whump prompt #whump prompts #whump ideas

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outofangband · 3 years ago

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I got my prompt list for badthingshappenbingo !

Here they are! Plus some other assorted prompts my partner kindly gave me when I was bored:

this is well, bad things happen bingo so warning for mentions of illness, restraints, trauma, and creepiness

I deliberately chose prompts for the first set especially that I could use for The Children of Húrin and The Wanderings of Húrin but I’ll take them for any character and I will reuse them!

so yeah send stuff in!

ones with a line through them have been prompted, completed/posted ones are linked but if you have one for a different character/verse feel free to send one in again particularly if it’s with another one that hasn’t been done but also on its own!

Tampering with food/drink, mind games, starvation, fever, defeated and trophified, taunting, confined to bed rest, forcibly stripped, old wound re-opened, mistreated by authorities, medical treatment withheld, delirium, traumatic touch aversion, forced to kneel, collared and chained, carved mark, grabbed by the chin, chained to a wall, tortured for information, blindfolded, hair matted with blood, public humiliation, dissociation, this is for your own good

Wiping the others tears away, Strapped to an operating table, Non consensual body modification, Tears of fear, Medical torture, Mind control, Made a slave, Insecurity, Harmful healing, Faux affectionate villain, Force feeding Enemy turned caretaker, Bedside vigil, Cradling someone in their arms, Blindfolded, Chained to a bed, Dehumanization, chin grab, pinned to a wall, backhand slap, knife to the throat

#prompts #not strictly tolkien #personal

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lesetoilesfous · 4 years ago

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Sending you a prompt from the Bad Things Happen Bingo! I'd be interested to see what you do with "Defeated and Trophified", for either a negative Handers OR an Evil M!Hawke. Thank you! <3

Oooh thank you so much, I hope you enjoy!

(If you’d like me to write you a dragon age fic, send me a prompt from here!)

@dadrunkwriting @badthingshappenbingo

Fandom: Dragon Age 2

Pairing: dark, abusive Handers

Characters: Garrett Hawke, Anders, Alistair Theirin

Tags: post da2, evil Hawke, implied abusive relationship

Rating: Mature

The new viscount of Kirkwall has made changes at the Keep, and indeed in the city in general. No longer are there any mages to be found anywhere, not even in the city-state’s infamous Gallows. Alistair had been struck by how few staves he’d seen anywhere as a result. He realises that he’d just sort of got used to apostates and presumably-legal Circle mages wandering throughout Fereldan. The absence of them here in Kirkwall is, well, stark. But Alistair is a king, and visiting his new trading partner is not the most burdensome of his many, many responsibilities, so he takes a deep breath and tries not to think about Kelton Amell, and climbs the stairs towards the viscount’s personal offices.

A servant who looks pale and frightened and flinches far too easily for Alistair’s comfort dips him a low, low bow and swings the door open on perfectly oiled hinges. Everywhere, the Amell family crest bleeds in red lines beside the emblem of the city of chains. Everything is spotless and silent, and even the air tastes clean, somehow - perfumed with what tastes to Alistair like elfroot and spindleweed. He’s led, with his retainers, into a large room with a long, beautiful dark wooden table. Behind it the Viscount of Kirkwall: muscular, broad, handsome Garrett Hawke, sits in state wearing an iron crown. Behind him, standing demurely with his hands folded and his head lowered, is the apostate who blew up the Chantry.

The first thing Alistair can find to think is that he recognises this man. He remembers gently encouraging Kelton to recruit him, almost a decade ago in Amaranthine. A young, frightened man whose brave face warred with his real horror at what the Templar order wished to do with him.

The second thing Alistair notices is the collar. It’s not ostentatious - of course not, if there’s one thing Alistair has learned from the immaculate Keep and the deathly silent streets, it’s that the man sitting in front of him does not go in for the obvious. But it’s a collar all the same: a thin, beautiful bar of rolled gold which hangs like a necklace around the apostate’s neck, darkened with dozens and dozens of finely engraved runes that makes it look stained black like an antique. Thin gold chains dip below the apostate’s neckline, under the loose, beautiful deep green silk tunic he’s wearing. There are matching, thick gold cuffs wrapped around each of his wrists. Alistair can’t see his feet from where he’s standing, but he doesn’t doubt there are cuffs there too. He swallows his bile, and refocuses his attention.

Hawke doesn’t bother to stand, which is technically a formal insult, but Alistair suspects it won’t be the last thing he tolerates today in the name of preventing open war. Instead he inclines his head, and waves at the frightened servant to pull out a chair. The servant does so, and Alistair thanks them softly, not missing the way Hawke’s mouth turns down in a sneer. The apostate behind the viscount, (the grey warden), says nothing. Alistair can barely believe he’s breathing, for how silent he’s being.

Hawke leans forward. ��King Theirin. Such a pleasure to have your company so soon after our...troubles.” Behind Hawke, the apostate flinches, so subtly Alistair can hardly believe he noticed it. But Hawke’s jaw clenches, and the apostate’s already pale skin pales further.

Alistair thinks about facing down a broodmother and sits a little straighter in his chair. “Of course, Viscount. I was sorry to hear the news of your predecessor, and,” Alistair pauses, picking his words as carefully as stepping between landmines, “...confused by Knight-Commander Meredith’s interim occupation.”

Hawke laughs, and again, the apostate flinches. “Yes, well, Stannard always did have delusions of grandeur. But she wasn’t wrong about the mage problem. Worse than a nest of plague-ridden rats in this city and just as rotten. It was poisoning us from the inside out.”

Alistair lets the comment past him, and keeps his features neutral. He’d gotten good at this, as a child, under Isolde’s harassment. He asks, neutrally, as politely as he can, “Is it true, then? That you took part in the annulment personally?”

Again, Hawke laughs. Alistair feels a thorny kind of heat coiling in his chest. Hawke says, “Damned right I did. I was the only one left in the Blighted city with the fucking guts. Got every apostate too - all the criminals and infected children. I lanced the boil that this city had become and I burned out every bit of rot. Except this one,” Hawke gestures to the apostate behind him, then looks back at Alistair with a wide smile of perfect teeth, “But he’s pretty.”

Alistair fantasises about breaking his nose. Instead, he follows Hawke’s gesture to look up at the tall, broad man beside him. He’s older than he was, when Alistair had met him, lines printed across his face in deep crevasses. But he’s clean shaven, and his hair is brushed and soft around his head. Alistair listens to his own racing heartbeat for a moment before he speaks. “I heard he was a Grey Warden.”

Hawke’s eyes narrow, and there’s a flash of something there in the brown and gold of his irises that reminds Alistair terribly of the bird after which his family took its name. Something bloodthirsty, and cruel. “Like you? I told Vael, and the blighted Divine, Anders stays here. He’s mine.”

Alistair raises his hands in surrender and wonders whether Hawke can see that his palms are sweating. “Of course! Wouldn’t dream of separating you. It was only innocent curiosity. Now, I believe you have a Fereldan apostate to deliver to me?”

The blatant threat on Hawke’s face melts into a smirk, and he leans back in his chair. Behind him, Anders, the apostate’s shoulders lower, fractionally. Hawke clicks his fingers at the servant, and a few minutes later there’s the clatter of armour as a pair of templars bring in a wounded, starved looking elvhen girl.

Alistair thinks hard about exactly how much worse war would be for all his people and truly, deeply hates being king. Hawke gets up, circling the table to lift the girl’s chin between his thumb and forefinger. She glares at him, and Alistair hates that he’s heartened by this remaining spirit.

But then Hawke looks at the apostate in the corner and lifts his hand. The gold ring on his wedding finger, similarly blackened with runes, burns red, and Anders flinches as the jewellery on his wrists and neck glow, too. All Hawke says is, “Anders.”

The apostate moves faster than Alistair thinks he could have followed even if he were prepared for it. His hand flicks, and a silent bolt of lightning crosses the space of Hawke’s private quarters and connects with the girl’s skull. Her body slumps almost immediately, shuddering in a death rattle that is all too familiar to Alistair. He makes an effort to close his open mouth, and for the first time gives up the poker face.

“What is the meaning of this?”

Hawke smiles at him, close lipped and shrewd. “A lesson, your majesty. We won’t tolerate apostates in Kirkwall. Try to keep them on your side of the ocean.”

Alistair looks up at the apostate, Anders, but his hands are already folded in front of him again, his head bowed. Alistair swallows past the dryness of his mouth and the thick lump in his throat, and gets to his feet with an agonisingly loud screech of the wooden chair legs on stone.”Well, Viscount. It’s certainly been...educational.”

Alistair turns and tries not to imagine the entire darkspawn horde at his heels. Hawke doesn’t stand, and his pet apostate doesn’t move. But when Alistair gets to the door, Hawke speaks again. “Come back any time, your majesty. Anders can do wonderful things with his hands.”

Alistair doesn’t turn around. The doors swing shut behind them, and both the Keep’s guards and two servants usher them forward. But Alistair hesitates, listening for a moment.

Through the wooden doors, there’s a crack of skin on skin, and a soft cry of pain. Softly, deadly, Alistair hears the Viscount whisper, “Killed her quickly, didn’t you? Any suffering you spared her I’ll deal you, later.”

Alistair doesn’t realised he’s curled his fingers into a fist until one of his guard’s touches his forearm, her eyes wide with either fear or concern. Slowly, Alistair uncurls his hand, listening to the crunch of metal, and follows the soldiers and servants out of the Keep. He makes a mental note to write Zevran, later.

There’s a warden in need, and a state leader in desperate want of assassination.

#dadwc #bad things happen bingo #hawke #anders #handers #da2 #evil hawke #my fic #alistair theirin #hollyand-writes #dragon age 2

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