#mixed whump

[whumpookies]

Sefirin kızı bölüm 18

[epiclamer]

Part 1 somewhat sexual torture scene, anyone?

Sidekick didn’t even dare to breathe as the villain carelessly ghosted their knife point against their bare chest. Occasionally, letting the razor sharp tip of the blade scrape or scratch the surface of Sidekick’s skin.

Hero had taught Sidekick how to handle pain, how to breathe through it, how to control their bodily reactions. But no one had prepared them to have bodily pain waved in their face but hardly ever acted out.

It felt like some sort of psychological game of the villain’s. As if they were planning to reduce the sidekick to tears and a begging mess by only ever suggesting pain, without ever using it.

At this rate, the adrenaline pumping at full speed through the sidekick’s veins—exhausting them—worried them enough to wonder if Villain’s method would actually work. If eventually they would beg to have the villain just hurt them already and stop playing games.

Villain dragged their knife up until the point rested between the sidekick’s collarbones. “I think I’ll start here… Make a cut allllll the way down the center of your chest,” they cut a thin straight line as they spoke, from the sidekick’s sternum to just above their belly button.

It stung more than Sidekick would’ve liked to admit, it burned even if it wasn’t deep and droplets of blood pushed through faster than the skin could settle from the intrusion of the blade.

“Push the blade in nice and deep, leave your whole chest open for me to see…” They pierced a little deeper into the skin at the bottom of their previous cut, emphasizing their point enough for the sidekick to yelp. Villain smirked at the reaction, “what do they call those? When you open someone up in the chest?”

Sidekick felt bile rise into their throat and they stifled a gag. “A-A vivisection?”

The villain hummed, their smirk only growing as they brought the knife back up to circle the hero-in-training’s shoulders, watching intently as the blade broke skin occasionally and the sidekick flinched adorably so. “Exactly. What a smart little sidekick, hm? I see why Hero picked such a prodigy as yourself. Although, I might’ve picked you for a reason other than your brains.” They winked, squeezing the sidekick’s thigh with their freehand.

But Sidekick couldn’t focus, they could hardly hear anything over the rush of blood and fear that ran to their head the second they realized the villain wanted to cut them open on a hotel room bed; prop their ribcage up and squeeze all their organs, slowly and agonizingly killing them.

“Y-You don’t really mean that, right?”

Villain’s eyes and attention pulled from their knife, back to the trembling sidekick beneath them. “Why? Does that scare you, Sidekick? Is such a gorgeous specimen like yourself scared?”

They would’ve said no. They should’ve said no. Yet they could only manage a terrified squeak before shutting their mouth once more, desperately attempting to calm their racing breaths.

“Maybe I should invite Hero… I’m sure they’d love to watch helplessly as I carve you up. Maybe leave the both of you tied up for Hero to slowly watch you slip away right in front of their eyes.” The criminal grinned as they watched the sidekick writhe in their bonds, fighting harder and harder to break free from the villain’s entrapment. “Do you think they’d enjoy that? Watching their perfect, hot, innocent, sidekick beg for mercy; beg to die?”

“Please—”

“Hm?”

“Please, please, please—” Sidekick heaved an anguished breath, sucking in air desperately like many of the villain’s waterboarding victims had.

They pulled their knife back, resting it instead against the bed below the sidekick and pressing a strong hand to the center of the other’s chest. Pushing Sidekick back down slightly to ground them from any oncoming panic attacks, even if it meant smearing some of their blood onto the villain’s palm.

Villain rolled their eyes, realizing they might’ve gone a bit hard on the poor trainee. “Relax, Sidekick. I’m not going to kill you, or cut you open, or experiment on you, or do any of the terrible things I’m sure you’ve already thought up.”

Sidekick flinched, their whole body twitching against the pressure of the villain’s hand. “You… You’re not?”

The villain’s grin stretched as they shook their head. “No. I might’ve, if your charm and good looks didn’t intrigue me so much. But fortunately for you, I think I’d rather get to know you before I plunge a knife into your heart.”

A skip in the sidekick’s heartbeat told them it was okay to take another breath, somewhat out of relief now. They did their best to ignore the burning wound on their chest and instead play grateful for their life’s sake, but somewhere deep down they were actually looking forward to it.

“However, unfortunately for you,” Sidekick’s heart sank along with the villain’s previously friendly smile. “I noticed in your struggle you hit the handicap emergency help button, which conveniently alerts the front desk of an issue in this room—as I’m sure you’re already aware.”

Villain reached out again for their blade, plucking it off the bed while they shuffled their position to pin the sidekick down by their neck. “And as much as I know someone will be here to rescue you any minute now, you must understand that I won’t let you get away that easily.”

Before Sidekick could react they felt the villain’s knife pierce the skin just above their collarbone. They tried to shout, struggle, anything, but Villain was fast, precise and had an advantage against the struggling sidekick from above.

They carved, almost reaching the other’s jugular vein, but their knife work was educated enough to miss. And once they were done they moved their mouth to the wound, gently sucking the blood from their raw skin, before standing up and turning on their heel to make their escape through the window.

Villain hesitated before they jumped, looking back at the wreck of a sidekick they had left tied to the bed. “Tell Hero I said hi! Oh, and that I think you’re delightful~”

With that, the villain was gone, and the rhythmic drumming of knuckles against the room door sounded in perfect timing as the villain’s carved initial bled from its spot above the sidekick’s collarbone.

[adrift-in-thyme]

Febuwhump Day 9: Bees (Wind & Legend)

Ao3

CW for blood and injury and torture

————————————-

“Well, isn’t this just so pleasant? When I woke up this morning, I said, ‘You know what I wish? I wish I could spend my day in a cell that smells like sweaty men and thousand-year-old bananas.’”

Wind can’t help but roll his eyes at Legend’s sarcastic drawl. He doesn’t like it either, of course. Being cooped up in the Yiga hideout isn’t how he wants to spend his afternoon either. Time had promised to spar with him and he had been really, really looking forward to it. But there isn’t much they can do about it now.

If the assasins had tied them up with ropes, then they would have escaped hours ago. Wind is no novice when it comes to undoing knots. But chains? Their smithy would be better equipped to handle that sort of thing. And, unfortunately, the Yiga had only gotten the jump on him and Legend.

“What do you think they want anyway?” he asks if only to distract his brother from continuing his lament about his spoiled afternoon.

Legend lets his head fall back against the wall with a pouty clunk.

“The champion, probably. These guys hate his guts.”

Wind cocks his head. From this angle, the pile against the far wall suspiciously resembles human bones.

“Because he’s a hero, right?”

“Yeah. Because he’s a hero.”

“I wonder if they hate all heroes then,” Wind says, thoughtfully. He doesn’t really care, to be honest. But anything to keep from pondering the mysterious objects and substances strewn about the place. “Or if it’s more of a one-person thing. Like they only hate Wild, cause he foiled their evil plans.”

“The first one, to tell you the truth,” comes a voice from the space right in front of them.

Wind jumps, red hot pin pricks traveling down to encase his scalp, neck, and arms. Beside him, Legend goes rigid.

A Yiga assassin bursts into existence in a cloud of red papers. He raises his hands the way Wind and Aryll used to when they were presenting one of their plays to Grandma.

“You know one hero, you know them all,” he drawls. “That’s just the way of things. Which works to our benefit, actually.”

“Oh good,” Legend snaps. “Since you’ve figured out the inner workings of us heroes, you must know that we’d never give anyone up to you. Especially, a brother. So, if you’ll just take these chains off, we’ll be on our way.”

The Yiga chuckles. He squats down in front of Legend, leaning forward so that his face is inches from the veteran’s.

“I like you,” he hisses. “You have spirit. It’ll be fun to make you scream.”

Legend pales, though he manages to keep a scowl on his face. The Yiga digs his fingers into the hero’s shoulder and hauls him to his feet. Wind’s stomach lurches.

“Don’t hurt him!” He shouts, scrambling up. He wishes he had his sword and shield, his boomerang — something to get them free. “He doesn’t know anything!”

It’s a hopeless attempt and he knows it. But it still feels like a punch in the gut when the Yiga throws back his head and laughs.

“Oh, he knows things, I’m certain of it. You both do.”

He shoves Legend toward the door, then grabs Wind by the ear and pushes him in the same direction. Wind sends him a blistering scowl, which he pointedly ignores.

“Walk, you two,” he growls, shoving his sickle into Legend’s back. Exchanging an exasperated glance, the heroes stumble forward.

The assassin forces them down a set of stairs and into the main room. A small group of other Yiga awaits, formed in a semi-circle towards the middle of the floor. They spread out as their companion nears, allowing them room to enter their little huddle. Wind can practically see their sadistic grins shining from beneath their masks.

For all their comic obsession with bananas, these guys give him the creeps.

One of them grasps him by the shoulders as he walks forward and yanks him to a standstill. He stumbles, lifting his head just in time to see the original assassin practically drag Legend into the center his Yiga companions have made.

The veteran trips over a bump in the floor and tries to catch himself. But the assassin delivers a swift kick to his shins that sends him sprawling.

“Vet!”

Wind lurches forward, fighting to reach him. His captor holds him fast, however. And he can do nothing but watch as Legend picks himself up, face pale and eyes glinting.

No sooner has he gotten to his feet than he is back on his knees, gloved fingers holding him down and in place.

“I will now ask you a question,” one of the Yiga purrs, stepping forward on cat’s feet. “And I hope, for your friend’s sake, to only have to ask it once. Where is the Hero of the Wilds?”

Wind catches Legend’s gaze from across the room and holds it.

I’m sorry.

Amethyst irises darken in determined resolve. Pale lips press tighter as he nods once, short and quick.

“You know what to do, sailor,” he calls.

He does. Wind takes a deep breath. He does know what to do. But it’s gonna take everything he’s got to do it.

“I don’t know,” he says. “And if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.”

He can tell even through his mask that the assassin holding Legend has narrowed his eyes. In the next second, a sickle gleams. It swoops down like a graceful gull, heading straight for Legend’s middle. Wind doesn’t even have time to scream out a warning.

It slices through tunic and flesh and keeps going, ravenous for more. But the Yiga won’t allow it to satiate its appetite. He yanks it out. Blood splatters the floor. Beneath the overhead lights, it looks similar to the rubies Wild likes to collect.

Legend’s eyes go wide. He chokes, a cry begging to break from between bloodied lips.

“No!” Wind screams, jerking to get free. But a dagger finds his neck and abruptly, he stills.

Cackles echo around the room as Legend sags in his captor’s grip. His face is deathly pale now. When he raises his eyes to Wind’s, however, that fierceness is still within them.

“You see the pain that your friend is enduring,” the assassin hisses, tilting his head. His grip on Legend tightens and a low whine emanates from the veteran. “So, spill it, boy, before it gets much worse for him. We know that you know the answer. Where is Link?”

“Maybe you weren’t listening before, because I told you I don’t know where he is!” Wind retorts. It’s a battle to keep his voice steady, but he manages. Contrary to what some of the heroes think, this isn’t his first time facing the enemy.

…though it is his first time watching a brother be tortured. That’s an experience he could have done without, thanks very much.

The assassin motions. One of the Yiga moves. Quick as a flash, he zips forward, and brings his weapon screaming across Legend’s cheek. His skin splits open, a gleeful crimson smile beneath his left eye.

Something between a growl and a half-scream bursts out of Legend. He curls in on himself, bound hands clasped into fists. His breath comes in tight little gasps that make Wind’s chest tight.

“Every time you refuse to cooperate, we will create a new mark on him,” the assassin snaps. “So, I suggest you start talking. Unless, of course, you’re enjoying this as much as I am.”

“You bunch of sadistic idiots,” Legend croaks. “Did you not hear him? He doesn’t know anything.”

Another Yiga rushes forward. And this time Legend screams. A large gash runs across his arms and chest, cleaning separating the collar of his tunic from the rest. Blood oozes from it, only worsened from his weak attempts to pull away.

Wind feels his breakfast rise into his throat. Desperately, he drags his attention from his brother, even as blood runs down Legend’s body and drips onto the floor, even as he drags in wheezing breaths between clenched teeth, scream tapering off into a whine.

He has to find them a way out of here before it’s too late. And there must be one, there must be…

A small disk of gold glitters not far from where he kneels. In the rush of fear and fight for bravery, Wind hadn’t noticed it. But now it holds his gaze.

Legend has used something like this before, he realizes with a spark of hope.

“Tell us where he is!”

It is another assassin now, pushing forward and shoving the previous one aside. He reaches out and clamps his hand around Legend’s throat. The veteran chokes, face flushing and breaths gurgling.

“Tell us or we break his skinny, little neck!”

“Not yet! We still need him!”

“Well, the kid isn’t talking. This’ll make him real chatty.”

Slowly, carefully, Wind stretches out his leg. His foot connects with the hard object and he begins dragging it towards him.

Little by little it comes. And still Legend gasps. Still, he struggles, trying to tear at his captor’s skin, to kick at them, to escape. Still, his blood drifts away to pool beneath him.

“I can’t tell you!” Wind shouts, even as the hope within him grows and blossoms into something larger. Almost. He almost has it.

“I don’t know!”

Two more agonizing seconds tick past. Legend’s face is completely red now, eyes bulging as he tries and fails to fill his lungs with air.

Panic whirs in Wind’s ears, making him lightheaded. But the disk is within his reach. Gnawing his lip, Wind nudges it into his palm.

He doesn’t spare a moment to look down at the designs etched upon it, doesn’t give their attackers even that long to realize that he has found a way out. He takes a deep breath and feeds some magic into it.

It heats in his grasp, hungrily taking the power he offers and turning it into something useful. Something mighty and fierce and…

Wind’s eyes widen as a hoard of small flying things catapult out of his palm. The room fills with a deafening buzz as their wings beat together, propelling them towards their targets. Screams and shouts of terror quickly follow.

The Yiga scramble back, desperate to evade the stingers outstretched to pierce their skin. But they are not even close to as fast as the bees.

For that is what they are. A swarm of furious, yet very courageous bees.

The Yiga’s hand leaves his shoulder, the dagger falls to the floor. Seconds later, his chains fall with it, unlocked by the crafty bees. They buzz happily at him as Wind leaps to his feet, a triumphant shout on his lips and a thankful grin on his face.

The room is chaos. The Yiga try to fend off the vicious insects, swiping at them with windcleavers and sickles and daggers. But their weapons are useless against them. Even when they manage to strike down one, one hundred more appear, each angrier than the last. But never once do they harm Wind.

They part as he rushes to Legend and the only thing he feels is the wind of their wings.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a bee medallion?” He cries, grinning. “This is the coolest thing ever, vet!”

Legend looks up at him as the sailor drops down beside him. He lies in a pool of his own blood, eyes half-lidded and skin as pale as a redead. But he manages a small smirk.

“Never needed to,” he croaks. “Never thought I’d use i-it again. ‘Sides one of you would wanna borrow it.”

Wind reaches out to rest a hand on Legend’s arm. All his joviality is gone now at the sight of him, replaced instead by horror and sorrow.

“‘M sorry, Legend,” he says, sudden tears flooding his eyes. Roughly, he brushes them away. “I’m sorry they hurt you.”

Legend’s hand encloses his. He tries not to focus on the dampness of his fingers, or the crimson that smudges against his skin.

“You did good, sailor,” the veteran whispers, breath hitching on the last word. “You did real-really good.”

Wind smiles through his tears. “Well, I’m gonna do even better.”

He squeezes Legend’s hand and gets to his feet. Their pouches and weapons are propped against the far wall. Squaring his shoulders, he breaks into a run, headed toward them. With luck, one of them will have a fairy or potion remaining.

“I’m gonna get us both out of here.”

[homeforclones]

The true context of the “I’m not THEM” quote from the Season 3 trailer

Omega, Crosshair, and Tech have all escaped and they’re at the store waiting for Hunter and the rest to pick them up. Tech is off trying to find some new glasses.

Omega: Can we get this Mantell Mix? Please?

Crosshair: No.

Omega: The others would have gotten me Mantell Mix

Crosshair: WELL I’M NOT THEM

And then Hunter and the gang come and get them and they’re a family again and we don’t have to see them get hurt anymore.

[promptsforyourwhumpfic]

Whump Prompt #1297

Whumptober #28: Bloody Knife

A: "Yes! Alright, I got stabbed with a bloody knife, can we please get back to the matter at hand?”

B: “Not until you go to medical.”

A: “I patched myself up earlier- don’t look at me like that, I said I’m fine!”

B: *glare deepens*

A: “For goodness sake- I’ll go later!”

C: “Are all you brits so stubborn?”

A: “Piss off!”

C: “Charming.” 

[comfy-whumpee]

If your whumpee is clingy and trained to give physical affection, make sure they have a caretaker or fellow whumpee who finds that uncomfortable and unnerving!

If they put themselves low down or kneel, or call themselves derogatory names, at least some people will find that offputting!

If they offer slavish devotion, that can be unsettling! Disturbing and pressuring! Unfair and destabilising!

Let your whumpees be creepy to outsiders!

[whatiswhump]

Whumper kidnaps Whumpee, not realizing they were on psychiatric meds, thus inadvertently cutting them off.

They're horrified watching Whumpee go into withdrawals- anger, mood swings, vomiting, unable to sleep, agitation, losing touch with reality rapidly.

Whumper wanted to have some fun... not... this. They’ve barely even touched them yet!

[staydandy]

Tale of Thousand Stars (2021) - นิทานพันดาว - Whump List

List by StayDandy Synopsis : After a volunteer teacher Torfun dies in a tragic accident, her heart is transplanted into Tian. Tian learns about his donor’s life through a series of diary entries, including her promise to count a thousand stars with Chief Forest Officer Phupha. Tian decides to follow in Torfun's footsteps and fulfill her promise. Now a new volunteer teacher himself, Tian attempts to befriend Phupha who initially gives him the cold shoulder. As the two grow steadily closer, Tian notices his new heart beats quickly whenever he's near the officer. Much like the heart’s previous owner, Tian cannot help but fall for Phupha. Treading on dangerous ground, can he still go through with the thousand-star promise? (MDL) AKA : 1000 Stars

Whumpee : Tian Sopasitsakun played by Mix Sahaphap Wongratch (left) • Phupha Viriyanon played by Earth Pirapat Watthanasetsiri (right)

Country : 🇹🇭 Thailand Genres : Romance, Drama, BL / Boys Love

Notes : This is a Full Whump List • Adapted from the novel "Tale of a Thousand Stars" (นิทานพันดาว) by Bacteria • My favorite episodes are Pink

Episodes on List : 9 Total Episodes : 10

*Spoilers below*

01 : Tian Sopasitsakun has pain, ears ringing, unsteady, collapses … hospitalized … receives heart transplant … tired from hiking … passes out

02 : Phupha Viriyanon panics thinking Tian drowned

03 : [flashback] Passed out … [present] beat up … drunk … [flashback] drunk, helped to walk, throws up

04 : Nightmare … tired from hiking

05 : [flashback] Pain, ears ringing, unsteady, collapses … [present] attacked, beat up, hit in the chest … collapses, chest pain, ear ringing, passes out

06 : … continued from previous ep. ... (replay) Collapses, chest pain, ear ringing, passes out … receives IV at clinic … runs into a burning building, found passed out inside

07 : … continued from previous ep. ... Unconscious / sleeping after the fire … Phupha passes out drunk

08 : [flashback] Ear ringing, passes out … [present] hit with a bat, collapses, captured, back-handed across the face … Phupha shot in the back protecting Tian

09 : … continued from previous ep. ... Phupha carried to the clinic, heavily bleeding, bullet removed, Tian's arm is bandaged … Tian & Phupha are hospitalized, Tian's arm is broken

More Whump Lists for this show: whumpily-ever-after

[weirdstrangeandawful]

You know what? Screw it... if I have to be sick, so do my hypothetical whumpees. Have a prompt.

Whumpee with POTS and the plague passing out constantly because coughing is a trigger.

[mj-iza-writer]

It took a while to think of a poisoning prompt that was requested. I thought of many ideas, but nothing really worked how I wanted. Then I thought of this. I hope you enjoy. - Mj

Whumpee dug through the closet for more bleach. Surely there had to be a little more somewhere in there. They needed to clean the tub after all.

They pulled out a jug from the back.

"Am-ammonia?", they read the label, "it says for cleaning."

They looked at the bleach they had poured into their bucket already and then eyed the ammonia.

"I might as well use up the rest of the bleach, and some of this", Whumpee began to mix the chemicals.

With the bucket partially full, they climbed into the tub and started to clean.

A small cough started, but it grew worse and worse as they scrubbed. Their eyes and nose began to burn.

Whumper walked past in time to see Whumpee take a break to wipe their eyes.

"What's going on in here?", Whumper stood at the doorway.

**Cough, cough** "I'm just.... cleaning", Whumpee felt like they were fighting to breath.

Whumper glanced at the empty bleach bottle and almost mentioned it when they noticed the ammonia bottle.

They ran to the bathroom window and quickly opened it, grabbed Whumpee, and rushed out of the bathroom.

Whumper looked at Whumpee sternly, "did you, uh, did you by chance mix the bleach with something else?", Whumper frowned as Whumpee nodded.

"What did you use?"

"I couldn't find anymore bleach, and I didn't want to bother you", Whumpee looked at them frightened, "I found something called am-ammo..."

"Ammonia", Whumper nodded, "congratulations, you created chloramine gas. You're not supposed to mix chemicals like that idiot."

"Oh", Whumpee looked down, "I didn't know that, I'm sorry."

Whumper groaned, "are you feeling okay?"

"I can breath a little better now", Whumpee thought, "my throat and nose still burn though."

Whumper pinched the bridge of their nose in frustration, "I don't think you were around the fumes enough to have any real damage, but you really need to ask before doing stupid stuff like that."

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to bother you though", Whumpee looked down, "I'm really sorry."

Whumper sighed, "okay I'm going to go dispose of the mixture. I'll get more bleach, and then you can clean the tub."

Whumpee nodded, "what should I do right now then?"

"Go stand on the back porch for a few minutes and breath in some fresh air", Whumper pulled up their shirt over their nose and started back to the bathroom."

A few minutes later, Whumper came out to the back porch and coughed a few times before taking a few deep breaths of air.

"I sprayed down the tub, and the chemicals are safely poured into the toilet and flushed", Whumper sat down, "I left the window open to air it out for a while."

Whumpee nodded, "I'm sorry again."

Whumper sighed, "it's okay. You didn't know any better. Next time, please just ask, I don't mind answering questions like that. I probably would have had you wait until I got more bleach. Let's not turn my house into a gas chamber please."

Whumpee nodded again.

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all. @villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13 @notpeppermint @weirdthingweee @cyborg0109

[pigeonwhumps]

Sanctuary masterlist

Taglist: @littlespacecastle @mirasmirages @flowersarefreetherapy @whumpinggrounds @cepheusgalaxy @painful-pooch @i-eat-worlds @a-funeral-romance @rainydaywhump @bbu-on-the-side

Anita receives an email from WRU about Lea's training, sending her spiralling.

2k

CWs: BBU, pet whump, anger issues, self-harm, implied past suicidal thoughts, rape, sexual slavery, self-hatred, past transphobia

Theo is next door when Anita receives the email.

She's glad. He wouldn't be able to hear her, but he's very sensitive to her emotions and behaviour as a survival mechanism, and she wouldn't want him witnessing her primal, anguished scream. Mittens streaks out of the room, ears flattened to their head, as she throws something at the wall. She's not sure what. It doesn't matter. How dare they? Those utter–

"Anita? What have you done to your room?"

Her paati is behind the curtain giving her a little privacy with the open door, and Anita sniffs. Paati's words are serious but her tone is more worried than anything. It's been a long time since Anita's done anything like this.

"You can come in," Anita croaks, and her patti pushes the beaded curtain aside slowly, cataloguing the room. "I–"

She gestures to the computer. Paati approaches, takes the recently-vacated seat, and frowns at the email on-screen. Anita takes a deep breath and translates it into Tamil.

Paati sucks in a breath and reads it through for herself. She flattens her sari over her lap, a nervous movement. She always used to do that before Anita's parents evenings.

She did that in the hospital. It's one of Anita's strongest memories from the place.

"What are you going to do?"

"What they want. I have to, right? It's too dangerous to do otherwise."

Paati looks at her, and as always happens, she finds her thoughts bursting out of her in a torrent of pain and helplessness.

"They're trying to make her for me and I don't want that. I just want her to be safe and loved and with Theo, I don't– I'm not going to have sex with her. But I need to send these, don't I, they'll be suspicious otherwise, and I hate it, I've never even said those things to someone I love, let alone– let alone to help condition a sex slave."

The last part comes out in a choked whisper. She's buying a sex slave. Participating in this horrific system. No matter the reason for it, it's still abhorrent, and she hates herself for it. Hates herself for not being able to find another way to reunite the pair.

"I know what you're thinking. Stop it. It's not your fault, chotu. You're getting Lea out of there, safely and subtly. There's no need to feel so guilty."

Anita knows. She knows. Everyone's told her that, Marjorie and Alix and everyone. But she can't believe it, because she's still buying a sex slave.

It took her years to stop being a coward and help people again. And now she's buying a fricking sex slave.

Her paati hits her gently on the arm. "Stop it. I'm making you tea, and you're going to drink it all, and that will help. Wallowing won't. Get up and do something."

So she does. She finds Mittens and their favourite toy, and plays with them in apology for earlier. Trying to block out what she has to do.

Lea will be here soon. So at least there's that. Even if... even if Anita has to do this to get her. It's nothing compared to what Lea is going through.

Absolutely nothing.

Paati comes into the living room and sets a steaming mug smelling of her favourite blend of tea leaves and cinnamon down beside her. "Drink it all before you do this."

"Thanks," Anita croaks, taking a sip. Then a gulp, scalding her throat but worth it. She nurses it a little, liquid turning into little whirlpools with her tears.

She doesn't want to move but she supposes she had better get it over with, so she swallows the rest of her tea in two more gulps.

It's a shame to waste it. Maybe, if she asks nicely, paati will make her some more later.

She walks to her bedroom and sits on the bed, scrolling through the list of suggestions WRU sent on her phone. She just can't think of any herself. She chooses the three she thinks she'll most be able to stomach.

She closes her eyes briefly. She doesn't want Lea made for her. She doesn't want Lea made for this. But she has to go along with it, or she'll risk everything.

Okay. She can do this. It's just three sentences, it's easy.

Anita's stomach churns as she presses 'record' on her phone.

"Oh that's good."

She plays it back to herself. She sounds choked, like she's being forced into recording at gunpoint.

She tries again.

The second try is better. She still has to resist throwing her phone at the wall. It's not fair.

Next phrase. As her therapist used to encourage her to do when she got hopelessly angry as a teenager, moving on.

She swipes at her eyes angrily, glad there isn't video.

"Go on. Just like that."

This one sounds slightly wavering, but Anita decides that that's okay. If she was about to cum maybe she would sound like that.

And the third... the third, she just gives up on holding back her sobs and tries to turn them into sobs of ecstasy instead. She thinks she does a pretty good job. WRU suggests several sounds, and Anita isn't trying moans. She couldn't manage that, and she never intends to, with Lea.

And then she just about makes it to the toilet before spewing her guts up.

She thinks she's probably chucked up everything she's eaten or drunk today. Her mouth tastes disgusting, but it can't be as bad as Lea's is if she's being trained.

It reminds her of that taste though. She throws up again.

She needs to clear her head. She needs to clear her head, she can't afford to remember that right now. She can't afford all these emotions, can't afford to sit here and tremble and throw up, she needs to get up and submit those files.

But she can't move.

She scratches at her arms fiercely, desperately, itching to get the emotions out, gone, to push herself to move and get it all done. She finally breaks the skin with a spike of pain and a rush of relief.

And she crumples to the floor.

She takes a shaking breath, and then another, watching the blood as it drips to the floor in slow, red, hypnotic droplets, joining the salt water there. She feels better, even through the trembling and tears.

Two pale, scarred, wiry arms take Anita's upper arms tentatively and she looks up. Theo.

"May I help you, Mistress?"

Anita nods. As he helps her sit up, she thinks how much he's grown. The first time he was in here he didn't dare speak, let alone ask questions and touch her without permission.

Theo fetches bandages and tape out of the cupboard and kneels down in front of her. She holds out her arm, which he diligently cleans and wraps a bandage around.

"Miss Indira told me what you are doing, Mistress. Lea has been training as a Romantic for months. If you did not send the recordings she might think she is unwanted as a Romantic. Or her handler will tell her that. It's the worst feeling for a pet, Mistress, to be unwanted for your only purpose."

"Oh. Thank you for explaining."

She wonders if his explanation makes it any better. She decides that it doesn't.

Lea isn't just being raped. She's being taught that she's nothing without it.

Anita just watches as he smoothes the bandage carefully over her wrist and ties it off. She wonders where he learnt how to do all this.

When he looks back up at her, she says carefully, "I'm sorry if I've ever made you feel unwanted. You're not. You never will be."

"Yes, Mistress."

"Thank you for this. I can finish with the rest if you'd rather go and relax. It's my mess."

Theo shakes his head and gives Anita a tentative hug. When she returns it, resting her head on his, his gets tighter.

They're both shaking, she realises. Theo needs this just as much as her.

She rubs his back soothingly. It's good for Theo, and anything to distract her.

Eventually, she draws away. She needs to get on with the day. Get the submission over with. She can't just sit here.

"I can clear up."

Theo shakes his head, again, and stows the bandages while Anita wipes the floor. She flushes the toilet several times and dumps cleaner down it, unable to clean properly but unwilling to let Theo do it.

"Okay, sweetheart. Let's– let's go."

Anita makes a valiant effort to carry her own weight but she's not sure how well she succeeds. In the living room they bump into paati. Almost literally.

"How are you doing?"

"I've finished the recordings, just need to– upload them."

"That's not what I meant, chotu. You know that."

She nods. She does know that, she does, but she doesn't want to worry her paati more than she clearly already is.

"Better than Lea."

Paati holds out her arms encouragingly and Anita falls into them. As has been the case since she was little, it's one of the only places she feels completely safe, and she buries herself in her paati and cries her heart out.

"You're safe. No-one's going to hurt you here."

Of course, her paati knows exactly where her mind has gone. It wouldn't be anywhere else.

"I know. I know I know I know."

And she's lucky. At least when she was told, more or less, that she would only be only a proper girl if she could take someone's penis well (and she certainly knew she wasn't a boy so what was she?), she had people to convince her she was worth something. In Lea those sorts of thoughts are encouraged. It's sick and twisted. How can it be legal to systematically, repeatedly rape one group of people and for another you can receive a life sentence for it?

The sleeves of her jumper have pushed themselves back at some point, and paati touches her wrist.

"Do we need to contact your therapist again?"

Anita shakes her head. She can't anyway, she doesn't know what they'd do if they suspected she supported pet lib.

"I won't let it get as far as before," she croaks. She has people to look after now, and this is just a blip anyway, caused by a combination of Lea's treatment and some of the phrases WRU sent.

"Good. Tell me if you start to think that way again, because I can't lose you." Anita nods. "Why don't you finish the submissions, then you can have tea and a nap, and after that we can decide about this evening?"

"Can't sleep."

"Try." She turns to Theo, signing something and then repeating it out loud for Anita's benefit. "Do you still want to go tonight?"

"Yes please, Miss Indira, if that is acceptable to you and Mistress."

Paati nods. Anita could cry at his progress. He's expressing himself.

She makes her unsteady way to her room and collapses in front of the computer, trying to upload the files without thinking too hard about what they are. It's a complicated process made all the more so by the tears blurring her vision, but she manages it after a few tries. As she finally presses 'submit', she feels a surge of self-hatred so strong she has to cling to the table to keep herself upright. Lea's being made for this, made for her, made to be a sex slave, and Anita's just condemned her to the worst of it, whatever Theo says.

She's as bad as her own rapist now.

By the time paati comes in with three steaming mugs, she's curled up in bed, blankets over her head, Mittens sprawled on her, Theo pressed against her side. Leaving the world to sort itself out.

[whumpacabra]

Two Truths and a Lie

I was tagged by @i-can-even-burn-salad! Thanks :D

No pressure tags: @i-eat-worlds, @whumpy-bi @ash-and-bone-whump, @ anyone else who wants to participate!

Rules: set a 24 hour poll for two truths and one lie about an OC.

I’ll be using Harrison from my Freelancers series, specifically The Wolf and the Hare AU.

[itsjustdg]

Hudson & Rex S06E08 Promo

"Charlie, how many inmates have been placed in [prison] Correctional by you and Rex?"

(name omitted because I can't actually understand what Jesse says)

Also I spy more whump 👀

[sordayciega]

Sometimes I like a Whumpee who is immediately obedient to Whumper.

Whumpee is so submissive that they hardly fight back at all.

They may try to suggest Whumper not hurt them, but they never directly defy him. They may squirm if they’re touched, but never move from the spot they were told to stay in.

A Whumpee who puts actual effort into obeying Whumper right off the bat because it feels unnatural to do anything else.

After all, isn’t it obvious who is in charge here?

[omo-robin]

thinking about a character who needs to pee but are injured in some way that makes it hard to get up and walk around. like maybe they sprained their ankle or something similar, and while they aren’t completely immobile, it can be hard for them to walk without limping. they procrastinate on getting up to pee because they need to rest and it might hurt to walk for a little bit. but eventually it gets too bad and they just need to get up and go. maybe they limp to the bathroom which makes the aching in their bladder worse, or they need someone to help them there. maybe they procrastinated to their absolute limit and don’t make it because of that. there’s probably a lot more possibilities (or should i say pissibilities) that can come out of this

also, bonus if they needed to pee before they injured themselves but don’t realize until someone brings them an ice pack and the sight of it makes their need feel worse