#noncon touching cw

[whumperful]

More creepy/intimate whumper things

Part 1 can be found here! Happy Valentine's Day!

Cleaning Whumpee while they're tied up in bath

Playing with Whumpee's hair before roughly pulling it

Nuzzling Whumpee or possesively putting an arm around them while they're in public

Groping Whumpee in public

Holding Whumpee's face to examine them

Forcefully kissing Whumpee and biting their lip until it bleeds

Calling Whumpee pet names and refusing to use their actual name

Forcing Whumpee to undress Whumper

Making Whumpee sleep in the same bed as Whumper (tied up or not)

Forcing Whumpee to pretend they're in a romantic relationship with Whumper (in front of Caretaker)

Touching/kissing Whumpee while they sleep

Hand-feeding Whumpee

Whumper forcing their fingers into Whumpee's mouth

Whumper filming/taking pictures of Whumpee while they're in a compromised position

[copics-and-renegades]

Whumptober 2023 Day 07: Examination (Goddamn Right You Should Be Scared Of Me)

Cutting-edge science, but unfortunately you are the specimen.

---

Angel Transformation Whump!!! Angel Transformation Research Whump!!! Yaaaaay!!!!! :D

Very very attached to the headcanon that Yuan got as untypically far as a half-elf in Sylvarant because he was, well, involved in angel transformation research. In the form of "wow I can't believe it worked this time journals will line up for my papers".

Had this finished and then afterwards a splendid discussion with the fellow Desians-and-Renegades enthusiasts crew about how touching the wings might feel. :3 It's their bodily mana taking shape. It must feel like someone reaching inside of them, in a way. :333

I like to liken it to eye contact xfmzngznf but that's just me. :'D

[honeybunny-og]

A New Friend - The Whumper's Soiree

I finally finished! yay! Thank you to @worldofwhumpcraft for inviting me to @the-whumpers-soiree, and of course thank you to @painsandconfusion for hosting/creating this wonderful event!

CW: pet names, multiple whumpers, whumper couple, manipulative whumper, flirtatious whumper, talkative whumper, creepy whumper, intimate whumper, alcohol consumption, non-con touching and kissing (non-explicit), drugging, corrupted whumpee, suggestive themes (non-explicit)

“Two reds, please,” Arthur said, the hand placed on Beau’s shoulder squeezing tighter. 

Beau looked around the dimly lit penthouse bar, a soft and sultry jazz song playing in the background, as Arthur affixed the red bracelets to both of their wrists.

Beau looked back at Arthur, their eyes meeting for a moment before Arthur leaned over, his hot breath on Beau’s ear, raising goosebumps over their neck and back. 

“Don’t look at me, Beau, look for the blues,” he murmured. 

“Anyone I want?”

“Anyone you want.”

 Arthur squeezed Beau’s shoulder once more before releasing and taking a step back, slinking into the shadows. 

Beau’s eyes darted across the room. There were so many people mingling about, their faces strange and obscured by the mood lighting. Eyes glinted mischievously in the low light as figures with glowing blue wrists passed by. 

There at the bar, haloed by sunset orange lights, Beau saw the one they needed to have. They didn’t bother to glance around and find Arthur, they knew they were being watched very carefully.

Beau sat themselves down next to their new find. “What are you drinking?”

The young man looked up at them, his nervousness obvious in the way he swallowed before replying, “Gin and tonic.”

Beau motioned for two more from the bartender. “These parties can be pretty dry without proper libations,” they sighed. “You know, a good social lubricant is always appreciated.”

Beau could see the red spreading across his face and neck even with the orange lights tinting his skin. Perfect, Beau thought. 

“I’m Beau,” they said, taking a slow sip of their drink before extending a hand.

“I’m Dylan,” he replied, taking Beau’s hand in his own.

Beau’s hold lingered on Dylan’s hand, a light touch brushing his wrist and the blue bracelet encircling it. 

“Does the red bracelet mean you’ve been to this kind of party before or something?” Dylan asked, his own eyes lingering on Beau’s wrist. 

Beau smiled at Dylan, “Yeah, something like that.”

“I’ve never been to a party quite like this before,” Dylan said. “I’ve only been in this city for a few weeks and I don’t know anyone here, so it’s nice to be able to meet some new people.”

Beau pouted, their hand still casually stroking Dylan’s. “Aw, poor thing! I hope you haven’t been too lonely up until now. Life’s no fun without good company,” they expressed with a wink.

Dylan let out a flustered giggle, about to lean in and say more when a hand grasped Beau’s shoulder.

Knowing immediately who it was, Beau tilted their head toward the hand, nuzzling into it with their cheek. 

“Arthur, I was wondering where you’d wandered off to,” they teased, knowing full well what game the two were playing. “Dylan, this is Arthur; I’m his better half and all that.” 

“Oh! Um, hi, nice to meet you, Arthur,” Dylan stammered, throwing out a gawky wave. He looked like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. 

Arthur smirked and blatantly eyed Dylan up and down, taking note of his fidgeting fingers and reddened complexion. 

“So, what were you too giggling about?” he asked, an arm draping over Beau’s shoulders. 

“Oh, this and that,” Beau replied with a wave of their hand. “More importantly, Beau’s new in town, and he’s quite cute, so I think I’ve found a new friend.”

Dylan, eyebrows raised, exchanged glances with Beau and Arthur before stifling a laugh with a cough. 

Arthur leaned into Beau and nipped at their ear. “Careful now, I think you might scare him off,” Arthur teased, just loud enough for Dylan to hear.

“Hush, you; I’m only kidding,” Beau replied, swiftly sliding out from under Arthur’s frame and off the bar stool. They grasped Dylan’s hand in their own and pulled him to his feet. 

“Excuse us, sir, but my new friend and I have to go powder our noses,” Beau stated with a very pointed look at Dylan. 

Before Dylan could get a word in edgewise, Beau was guiding them across the busy lounge, weaving through the mingling masses of red and blue bracelets, and into the restroom. 

The restroom was deserted, the bright lights a jarring departure from the glamorous party they’d just stepped out of. 

Dylan could feel Beau’s gaze reflecting off the large mirror and onto him as they stood side by side at the sinks. He took a deep breath. 

Then, hands were on Dylan, pulling at his shirt collar, quickly followed by lips crashing into his. Beau was frantic yet indulgent; their grip was tense and wanton as they kissed deeply, evidently savoring the new experience. 

Dylan felt Beau tangle a hand into his hair. It was when a hand dropped and groped at his hip that he returned to himself, remembering that Beau’s partner was waiting at the bar. 

Dylan broke away, pushing against Beau’s shoulders, glancing from their wide, excited eyes to the restroom door behind them. 

“I’m not—I didn’t think you wanted to—” he stammered. 

Beau backed him against the wall, pressing their bodies together, crowding his body and thoughts. 

“Aw, c’mon, don’t be so shy,” Beau crooned, hands continuing their exploration of Dylan’s body. 

Dylan furrowed his brow and shoved at Beau again. “Seriously, Beau, stop it,” he seethed, trying to swat their hands away.

Beau sneered as they both struggled to gain control over the other. 

“Calm down,” they pleaded. “It’s much easier this way. Don’t worry your pretty little head, okay? Master and I will be so good to you.” 

“What?” Dylan hissed, mind sent reeling like he’d been punched in the gut. 

Then, he felt a pinch in his neck as a rush of warm static flooded through his veins. Suddenly, everything felt slow and unbearably hot.

“Wha’ did you--” Dylan slurred, acutely aware of his diminishing strength and autonomy. 

Beau smiled, peppering delicate kisses over Dylan’s face before pulling back, eyes dancing over him. They were an artist appraising their masterpiece.

The world was starting to blur and distort; Dylan was quickly sinking into darkness, watching the world melt away. The bathroom door swung open over Beau’s shoulder and Arthur stepped in, looming in the background. 

“Haven’t I done so well, sir?”

“Yes, of course you have, dear,” Arthur smirks, wrapping their arms around Beau’s waist from behind. 

“See, Dylan, our master can be very kind. So, don’t be scared or anything. I was just like you when Master found me, but Master made my life so much better by making me submit. And now, Master’s going to teach me how to be just like him. Trust me, after the pain there comes so much… pleasure.”

Thank you so much for reading! I might have to continue this story more cause, let me tell you, I have some... ideas... also i might have to write some drabbles set at this party bc this prompt is literally so good

[missbunnybunny]

╔═.✧ 🖤 ✧.═══════════╗

▶︎ 𝕾𝖍𝖊’𝖘 𝖘𝖔 𝖉𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖓𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖎 

𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖛𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖊.

╚═══════════.✧ 🖤 ✧.═╝

𝕿𝖜: ☞ 𝙼𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝙽𝚘𝚗-𝚌𝚘𝚗, 𝙳𝚛𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 thoughts, 𝙵𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚢, 𝙱reeding, 𝙼ind break, 𝚁𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚜𝚎𝚡, 𝙾𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚖, 𝙾𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛, 𝚂𝙼𝚄𝚃! «🛑𝙼𝙳𝙽𝙸🛑» ☜

Note: This is a y/n x pretty yandere, female-bodied reader.  pet names such as Darlin, Love, and Good Girl, etc. are used.

If I forgot something plz tell me. Like and re-blog, it helps getting these stories to new people!

🫧𝕴'𝖒 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖛𝖎𝖓', 𝕯𝖆𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖓' ❣️💌💌 part 1

Y/n was startled awake and panicked. Holding the sheets over her naked body, she found herself in an unfamiliar room. 

Silent tears streamed down your face as you began to shake. He tricked you and took advantage of your kindness. 

You mourned your lost innocence for a short time when a knock on the door interrupted you. 

“ I apologize for waking you up, miss Y/n.” a handsome man wearing a suit and carrying a tablet said. 

The scared woman clenched the sheets tightly, “ My name is Ray. Mister Blackwell has asked for you to join him for breakfast.” the man expressed. 

“n-No! I want to go home…let me go!” Y/n cried, face red from crying. “ I'm afraid I can not let you do that.” he shakes his head, “The maids will come and help you dress,” Ray commented before turning and leaving the room.

You cried until your lungs burned and hurt. Until your body could no longer produce tears, the maids shortly came. They helped you bathe and dress in a beautiful gown. They tried to cheer you up, but it was to no avail. 

Soon, Y/n sat next to James at a large binning table. He kissed your cheek and caressed your skin. His touch was sweet and caring if it didn’t disgust you. Food was served, but you didn’t want to eat. You don’t trust that it’s not drugged again.

“ Say ah~ my dear,” he says, pressing a fork to your mouth. When you don’t respond, he squeezes your inner thigh. When your lips parted in a yelp, he fed you. He continued to feed you. If you didn’t open your lips fast enough, he would swirl your sensitive pearl. 

The food was finished, and tears dripped down your soft skin. “ Come on, smile for me, sweetheart,” he asked, cupping your face and whipping your tears. “ I just want to go home.” You tearfully repeated. 

“ We can’t have that, dear. This is your new home.” James informed her as he stole a kiss from her. “ I want to go to my store,” Y/n pleaded. 

✦✧✧ ☆ ✧✧✦

“ I already told your employees to take a weeks-long paid break.” James, shut your request down. He wasn’t going to tell you that, but Ray hacked your email and made such arrangements.  

Your face dropped all hope of escaping, where shattered. 

It had been a few days, and James made sure that all doors were locked, and Ray informed you that you could go anywhere. But strongly warned that you couldn’t be outside without supervision. 

James never left your side for your entire time locked in the large mansion. Sleeping, bathing, or even walking, he was there touching any sliver of skin he could. If he couldn’t find you for a moment or have his hands on you, he would lose his shit. 

James knocked on the door to his room, smiling when he found your sleeping figure under the covers. 

He kissed your lips, his tongue intruding your mouth. Lifting the covers from your naked body, his fingers began to caress your sensitive bundle of nerves. He thanked himself for prohibiting you from wearing clothes to bed. 

Your back arched as you woke up with a moan. He knew you were still sensitive from last night. His fingers began to pump into your flower, while his thumb still caressed your clit. Y/n hit his toned chest, but that only fueled his passion even more. 

Your lips parted as he gave you a dreamy sign. “ I have to go into the office, honey,” James spoke, latching his mouth to your chest. Your hand pulled on his hair, making the man moan. 

James curled his fingers, hitting your sweet spot, over and over. The tight coil in your stomach made you whine, walls clamping on his fingers. 

With one more firm thrust, the coil in your tummy snapped. Honey gushed over his hand, withdrawing his hand, and licked it clean.

“ I have a meeting today, so unfortunately I won't be with you for a few hours. Be a good girl and behave.” He kissed your sweaty forehead, taking his leave and leaving you tired. 

✦✧✧ ☆ ✧✧✦

Y/n walked towards the side door, hoping, begging that she would get lucky. And it seemed that her prayers were answered. The maids forgot to close the door.

Her hand trembled and twisted the doorknob, slowly opening it. The wind blew, signaling she was one step closer to freedom. The door was left ajar as the woman ran to the street, with no phone and no way to contact her family and friends.

She ran as fast as her legs could carry her, ending up in the station. One she couldn’t enter because she had no money. An old lady exiting the station called out to her, asking if she was okay. 

Y/n said she was, but her eyes betrayed her. The kind old lady offered her help, to which she took it. “ I…I just need help to run away,” she admitted, desperate to leave. She didn’t know when they would have already noticed her absence.

The kind lady smiled and accompanied her to buy a ticket. When she handed the ticket to Y/n, the girl cried, thanking her. 

Y/n gave the lady all the jewelry she had, as a thanks and wanting to part with them in fear of recognition.

The train had arrived, and she left. Free, she was free. 

She planned to return home, take all her valuables, and disappear. She would be sad to close her store, but it was needed. 

✦✧✧ ☆ ✧✧✦

James sat in the meeting, bored, his assistant as always trying to get his attention with skimpy clothes. She would never be like Y/n. She was dirt under his goddess's feet. 

Ray came into the meeting room, whispering something into the CEO's ear. James looked like a deer caught in headlights, “ You sure?” he asked, looking at Ray. The man only nodded. 

“ I apologize, but something important has come up.” he expressed, standing up and abruptly ending the meeting.  

“ Ray, get the helicopter. I’m bringing my little darlin’ wife home.” James expressed, loosening his tie. 

The train ride was an hour and a half, so she could get some well-needed rest. But her mind raced, what ifs consumed your every thought.

 “ Ladies and gentlemen, we inform you that the train will have a small delay. We shall be on standby for some time.”  the conductor announced, as the sound of a helicopter could be heard. 

Dread filled your stomach, making it sink. 

“ Miss, please come with us.” a man in a suit said, “ You have the wrong person,” Y/n said, hoping it would work. 

“ My sweetheart, don’t make me punish you. Not in front of everyone here.” James said in a low voice.  His threat made you shake, trembling, hand taking his extended one. 

There was no hope of escaping the lion's den once you had stepped inside.

✦✧✧ ☆ ✧✧✦

James held Y/n’s hand tightly, making sure she wouldn’t escape as he took her to his room. He thrusts her towards the bed, “ If you love me, you’ll never do that again. Understand?” he warns, removing his tie. 

Y/n backed away until her back hit the headboard. The muscular man graded her leg and pulled her under him. 

She began to beg him to let her go, that she would stay and not run away. He shoves his tie in your pretty plump lips. 

Only allowing for moans and whines to filter through. 

He has you caged in between his meaty arms, his gaze held a lustful and hungry glint to them. 

Tears fell as if rain from your eyes, “ Don’t cry, I’ll make you feel good. I promise.” he kisses your tears.

Your tears felt like acid to his skin. He much rather you cry from pleasure. With his free hand, he removed his belt, tying your hands with them as if they were handcuffs. 

He rose and looked at your posed figure, his legs trapped by your hips, so you couldn’t escape from his embrace. 

He was going to make you feel better, make you see the high heavens. He began to worship your being kissing every scar, stretch mark, and so on. Any imperfection to you was perfection, a divine perfection to him.

Created by a higher being to be held, kissed, bitten, and claimed. 

He hiked your leg over his shoulder as he caressed your skin. Leaving kisses and hickeys over the skin. 

His hungry eyes looked at your teary ones, as he bit your leg.

His gaze lowered to your panties as he stared at them in hate like the small piece of clothing was holding your honey captive. 

The small piece of clothing became shredded into pieces when he ripped them. His rightful treasure was now on full display to him and only him.

 His large hand that once held your hip moved to your sex. With his index and middle finger, he spread your fold, groaning at the glittering sight of your slick.

His painfully hard member twitched upon seeing your dripping, aroused flower.

He groans, “ All this honey just for me?” he cups your cunt, feeling how it clenched around nothing.

Without warning, two larger fingers impale you, thrusting at an unforgiving pace. A long whine spills from your lips as you arch at the feeling.

He's hitting every sweet spot and curve inside you. His bulge grows even more at the sound of your watery juices. 

His thumb connects with your sensitive, neglected pearl, making you squirm and try to close your leg.

He slaps your pussy at the defiance, making electric pleasures shot throughout your body and brain. 

Y/n can feel the coil in her stomach tighten. Her hips met his thrust in chase of her own high. 

James speeds up his movements, watching as your eyes cross when he hits that spot.

Your walls begin to constrict his fingers, telling him that you're close. He bites the meat of your leg, his finger hitting deep inside you. 

Y/n came undone, eyes rolled to the back of her skull, drooling, back arch, and a pornographic moan of pleasure.

Cum covered his veiny fingers and his toned stomach. 

The sight almost made him cum in his pants. But, that milk was saved for his darlin's womb.

James pulled his pants down, allowing his hardened member to slap your sex. Thick and veiny. 

With your cum he gave himself a few pumps. The big man leans forward, his tip kissing your inviting honeyed entrance. 

“ See, you're so wet and sweet for me. You wanted this didn’t you?” he asks, his face flushed. 

His cock began to enter your wet, gummy walls, inch by inch. 

His hips stutter a little, and his body trembles with pleasure. The feeling of your lips sucking him in. 

With one hard thrust, he bottoms out in you. You moan, feeling so full, he begins to hump his manhood against your entrance. 

His almost in a trance, the sound of slick and moans adding to his resolve.

Each furious thrust thrusted her forward in the bed. His tip kissing her womb over and over, you’re moaning and pleas falling on deaf ears.

The makeshift gag swallowed all any sound that was not your monas, the sweet sounds of pleasure he wanted to hear from you. 

Y/n’s leg was still hooked over his shoulder. With his hands, he held her hips in a boa-constricting grip. 

Your overstimulated wall pulsed and twitched, “ Oh, you like that, huh?” he says, still drilling into her like a jackhammer. His hand pressed on the bulge in your small tummy. 

This made your walls tighten and pulse. His words and actions manipulated your dizzy pleasure-filled mind.

“ My pretty darlin’ going to look so beautiful, all swelled up with my child.” he groaned at the thought. Each thrust made your vision sparkle as if stars. 

The all-too-familiar feeling of the tight coil forming in your belly told you that you were close. James's thrust became uncoordinated as he chased that mind-numbing high he was looking for.

“You’ll make a cute mommy.” he moans. He removes your gag, as you beg and cry for him not to, but he crashes his lips against yours. 

He was going to snap you in half with the way he was bending your leg and fucking you at the same time.

The kiss was stymie, adding to the many pleasures you were feeling. Your mind was becoming blank, and you could only think of his dick inside you.

With a final harsh thrust, the coil in your gut snapped like a water gun. squirting over the man's abdomen and your inner thigh. 

James began to convulse, spilling his large fertile load at the feeling of your womb milking him dry. 

You felt so stuffed full and overstimulated. 

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to become a mommy, a slave to his man's cock. James’s load pulsed inside you, making his cum spill from your spent hole.

You will be the perfect cock-sleeve darlin’ for him, your eyes closed as sleep takes over you. a content smile on your face. 

Tag list:

✦✧✧ ☆ ✧✧✦

A new 🕳 to hide in 👩‍🦯

@tremendousdinosaurpizza @violetvase

✦✧✧ ☆ ✧✧✦

©𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝙱𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚢! 𝙽𝚘 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚘𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜. 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝. 𝙴𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢, 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚎. - 𝙱𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚢🩻!

[kissesforvamp]

TW: non-consensual touching, implied fantasy of rape/non-con, omegaverse

Okay, but what about a no upside down AU where Steve did bully Eddie? He shouted mean words, threw him against lockers, ostracised him, and made sure his reputation as the freak was cemented.

He helped to make Eddie’s life miserable.

And then in his senior year (Eddie’s second one) Steve presents. As an omega.

And suddenly he’s no longer the king.

Suddenly he’s been ‘let go’ from the basketball team, and the swim team, and the baseball team.

Suddenly, the attention he’s getting from his old friends is decidedly different.

He learns to keep his head down, make himself smaller and go unnoticed. He wears scent blockers and sits in his car at lunch and never makes eye contact with the alphas.

Around the same time, Eddie presents as an alpha, and his reputation changes too.

He’s still the freak, but now he’s scary. People avoid him. They can’t get away with pushing him around anymore, because he’ll push back harder.

He bares his teeth and growls, he never wears scent blockers (can’t afford them), and has learned how to make himself bigger and noticeable in a way that makes people leave him alone.

So, when newly meek Steve harrington seeks him out at the picnic bench one day looking for weed to help him sleep, Eddie can’t resist messing him around a little. Showing him his new place in the pecking order.

He’s mean to Steve. Condescending. And when Steve snaps back, he gets up and crowds Steve against the table. Uses his body to intimidate him. And from this close, even with the blockers, Eddie can smell the sharp hint of fear leaking through.

He finds he likes it.

When he grabs Steve by the face and shakes him, the feel of the omega trembling against him sets his blood on fire.

He feels drunk with power, drunk with lust, knowing he can do whatever he wants to Steve, and no one will care. No one will believe him, and even if they do, they’ll tell him it was his fault.

Eddie lifts a hand and peels away the patch on Steve’s neck. Steve is frozen and breathing hard. He yelps prettily when Eddie licks over his scent gland, lapping up his tangy pomegranate fear.

He doesn’t do more than that the first time. Steps back and gives Steve his weed. Still makes him pay for it.

He watches Steve all but run away, still shaking and afraid.

He knows he’ll see him again soon. Knows that now Steve’s an omega, his little revenge fantasy will be easy as pie to carry out.

[redd956]

More (More) Medical Whump

CW: More graphic or upsetting discription then usual, munschasen, medical nitty-gritty stuff, violence, non-con touching, dehumanization, creepy whumper

A whumper who knows what they’re doing, or is familiar with the medical equipment/process. Either they’re a doctor themselves, or gained the know-how one way or another in the past. (I use this whumper so often in my stories)

Whumpee being strapped down on a table, bed, or chair so whumper could do their work easier

Measuring whumpee. Whumper pulling as tightly as they want, even around whumpee’s neck. Why are they measuring? Whumpee could only fear or anticipate what is in store

Tracing sharp medical equipment along whumpee’s skin, or threatening whumpee with it

Forcing whumpee to pick an injection, refusing to tell them the side effects. Is it a sedative, paralyzer, pain inducing?

Whumper looming over whumpee before they lose consciousness, mumbling to them whatever they’re planning

Whumper’s identity hidden from whumpee via masks and more

Whumpee being munschasened

Whumper disguising themselves as Whumpee’s caretaker

Researching whumpee, checking their vitals constantly, watching their every move, and monitoring their behavior

Drawing whumpee’s blood to analyze it

Dehumanizing whumpee as a marvel, an experiment, something to research

Telling whumpee about all their medical imperfections, ingraining dysphoria into their minds

Obessing over whumpee’s behaviors. Whumper is writing everything down. Whumpee can’t help it, they want to know what whumper’s pen is constantly etching about. It’s driving them insane. Every action prompts another line. Whumpee is growing anxious about doing anything.

Whumper cautiously lifting a lethargic whumpee (Bridal Carry?!), moving their arms for them carefully, meeting their necessities medical or not. Whumpee can’t tell if they can trust them or not.

[brutal-nemesis]

An All Organ-ic Buffet

Okay well. This is in one of @galaxywhump and I’s 120 AUs I gutted (hehe) the context you don’t need it besides the fact that this Castys hasn’t ever really been tortured before so he’s not as used to all of this as he would be in canon <3 sucks to suck, dumbass

Castys Masterlist

Ingredients: gore. so much gore. also Castys gets eaten (but it’s a monster so not really cannibalism), a little noncon touching, there is a snake, the rib crowbar shit that i was born to write (❁´◡`❁)

This was going to suck absolute balls, wasn’t it? It was going to be worth it, it was, but it was still going to suck balls. 

The phaitenri lived pretty far from, well, anything, which was probably for the best given its…unique diet. Which was really the only thing that made Castys certain he could strike a good deal with it at all, honestly. 

Having arrived at the caves where the phaitenri made its home, Castys ran through the list of things to say and not say in his head before steeling himself and knocking on the door. A few tense moments passed before it opened, and Castys did his best not to flinch at the sight of the phaitenri. They were annoyingly tall, towering over Castys, bleached-white skin webbed with black cracks, their red eyes boring into him. Most notable, though, were the golden antlers sprouting from their head. What Castys had come for.

“I’ve come here to make a contract with you,” Castys blurted, the promise of a contract protecting him from being outright attacked. The phaitenri’s eyes narrowed, slitted pupils contracting in their different-colored irises.

“Fine,” they growled, their clawed hand curling around the doorframe, “which organs are you willing to part with?”

“Uh…all of them? As many as you want for six inches of antler.” 

They cocked their head. “All…you can’t form a contract for anyone but yourself, human. Do you intend to die for this?”

“Well, see, that’s the thing, I am, uh, what the kids call…immortal. So if you kill me everything’ll just grow back. Seriously, you can have as many organs as you want from me.” The trade was starting to sound more and more horrific as Castys talked, actually saying it out loud, but what could he do? This was the only way to save Berkeley. He had to do this.

The phaitenri crossed their arms, tapping their fingers as they leaned against the doorframe. “How do I know you’re not lying? Give me a demonstration.”

“I will not. At least, not until the contract’s formed.” The phaitenri glared at him. “What? Dying leaves me basically defenseless, I’m not just gonna let you kill me and then take me prisoner, ya know? Look,” he sighed, “if I’m lying, and I enter the contract with you, I’d just die, yeah? The contract would be dissolved, and you wouldn’t be out anything. There’s no reason to refuse.”

After considering it for a moment, the phaitenri straightened, gesturing for him to enter. “Alright, human, I’ll form a contract with you, so let’s negotiate.” Castys followed them inside, slightly relieved that they weren’t just going to dismiss him outright. “I’m Aleph, by the way.” That was a good sign, too, that they told him their name, since it meant that they were very interested in forming a contract with him.

“Castys,” he replied, showing his interest right back. They smiled at him, displaying their wicked-sharp teeth, teeth that would soon be…mmphf, don’t think about that right now. Think about Berkeley. He was doing this for Berkeley.

Aleph sat down at a mostly-empty desk, gesturing for Castys to sit across from them. He did, and it felt…weird, like he was getting ready to discuss a bank loan or something stupid and not, like, having his organs eaten by a monster so he could get a potion ingredient to save his best friend’s life. After thinking a bit, Aleph spoke up, “For six inches of antler, I’ll have you for…two weeks. I can eat as much as I want during that time.”

“Two wee-I don’t have that kind of time! I need to-” Castys stopped, sighing. “One week. That’s the longest I’ll give you.”

Aleph hummed, rocking their head back and forth. “How about…one week, and I can eat as much as I want as well as taking extras and storing them.”

That hardly seemed fair, but…Castys didn’t want to negotiate much more. Typically, the longer talks went on, the greedier phaitenris got. It was usually best to take the second option offered, so… “Alright. One week of unlimited access for six inches of antler.”

“Deal!” Aleph clapped their hands together, grabbing a sheet of parchment and writing down the terms. They signed their name before pricking their thumb and stamping on a thumbprint of their black blood, handing it to Castys when they were done. He took it, reading it over thoroughly, making sure they didn’t sneak in any fine print, before preparing to do the same. “Wait!” Aleph stopped him just as he was about to sign. “Take off your shirt.”

“Huh? Why-”

“The moment you sign that, magic chains are going to appear on your wrists until you’ve served your part of the contract, and even I won’t be able to get them off without dissolving it entirely. And since I’m going to need access to your torso…either take it off now or I’ll have to cut it off later.”

“Oh. Good call.” Castys was glad Aleph had spoken up since he was wearing one of Berkeley’s shirts, and he’d feel bad if it got destroyed. He pulled it off, Aleph’s hungry gaze sending a slight chill up his spine. “Thanks.” Taking a deep breath, Castys picked up the contract again, signing his name and pricking his thumb. The moment his thumb stamped on the parchment, iron manacles appeared on his wrists, just as Aleph had said. The chain between them was long enough that it wouldn’t be a huge inconvenience, but he was still chained, the inescapable reality of the contract heavy around his wrists.

“Well, let’s get started!” Aleph said, giddy as they took the contract from Castys and put it away. Once that was done, they reached out and hooked their finger around the chain between his wrists, dragging him along behind them. They pulled him into a room that was, well…it was pretty clear what kind of things happened here.

The walls were dark, definitely covered with bloodstains, because of course, and the floor was too, even though there was a drain in the middle of it, so clearly things could be cleaned up if Aleph wanted to. There was a table to one side, also bloodstained, with restraints, which wasn’t surprising in the slightest, but the sight of it still made Castys’s stomach turn. Aleph half-pulled him towards it, but then stopped and half-pulled him towards a comfortable-looking and somehow not bloodstained armchair, but then stopped again, rocking back and forth on their heels.

“Oh mannn, I just don’t know,” they whined, looking down at Castys. After a few more seconds, they bent and scooped him off of his feet faster than he could react, holding him in a bridal carry. “I just don’t know where I want to start with you, you know? There’s so many options…” They were looking him up and down, hugging him close to their chest, their bare skin freezing against his. Castys was tempted to make a suggestion so they’d put him down, but he didn’t really know if there was anywhere he wanted them to, ah, start more than somewhere else.

“Oh, I think I’ll start with your tummy. It’s been a while since I’ve had intestines!” Aleph carried him over to the armchair, settling into it comfortably, shifting their hold on Castys so he was sitting on their lap with his back against their chest, and he couldn’t help but shiver despite his efforts to stay still. Sure, he absolutely didn’t want to be sitting on their lap like this, but he was under a contract now, and he was going to serve his side of it as well as he could so this whole nightmare could proceed as smoothly as something like this ever could.

They twisted the chain attached to his wrists in one hand, pulling up and holding his arms off to the side and out of the way, their other hand teasing the surface of his bare stomach, claws scraping his skin lightly. Just as he was about to yell at them to just do it already, to stop driving up the anticipation, their claws turned inward, plunging into his flesh. Castys screamed at the sudden pain, head arching back against Aleph’s shoulder, eyes wide. They grabbed ahold of something and pulled, tearing the gash in his stomach open wider, and, no, no, he couldn’t look, didn’t want to look, he was already stuck feeling the awful pull at his insides, something sliding out of him through the hole in his abdomen, and the noises, the wet slipping, tearing, sucking, biting, swallowing, Aleph’s hums of pleasure, and their hand just kept going back in, pulling out more and more and more, and he didn’t know how much was left, how much he’d had at the start, but his ears were ringing now, vision fading, t-there was so much blood, it was so hot on his stomach and got colder as it dripped down, leaving him shivering and shuddering against Aleph, their tight grip on him never relaxing, pressing him into their chest, feeling his every twitch, and he couldn’t take it, he wanted to worm out of their grasp and run away, escape this awful, awful moment, but he had to be still, he had to let this happen, had to endure this for Berkeley’s sake, he couldn’t give up now, not when they’d just started, he had to do this, even as something squirted out and landed on his face, even as the ringing got so loud it drowned out the sounds of Aleph eating, even as he got so dizzy he wasn’t sure if they were even holding him anymore, e-even as-as…he was empty inside now, wasn’t he? So that was it then. It was. 

It was.

When Castys came to, he was still on Aleph’s lap, still covered in blood, but his stomach was…no, something felt…wrong. Aleph was giving him a look that he could only call concerningly fascinated. Henceforth, he was very concerned as he looked down to see…ah. Well that was. That was new. That sure was new.

His whole torso was all bloody, and that was expected. Aleph’s hand was resting on his chest, arm drenched in red, little strings of ripped flesh clinging to the surface of their skin, and that was expected. What wasn’t expected were the twisted ropes of intestine erupting from the unbroken skin of his stomach. There wasn’t any pain, everything healed up after he’d died, just the strange, disturbing sensation of…this. 

“This is so fun, look at you!” They grabbed the coils of his intestines, tugging at them gently as they examined them, causing him to wince. “You came back to life just like you said you would, and this makes it so much more interesting. I wasn’t planning on eating any more quite yet, but I feel like just leaving this out here would be a waste…If I kill you again, will that fix it?”

Castys gulped. “I, uh, I think so? This has never happened before, so I think as long as everything’s, um, inside when I die, it should be okay.” 

“Alright. I’ll try to be more careful in the future.” Aleph ruffled his hair with their bloody, gore streaked hand, much to Castys’s dismay. He didn’t mind getting dirty, but having his own blood and guts in his hair was a bit much, even for him. “Sorry, I sorta did that without thinking. I’ll let you get cleaned up after I finish here.” They grabbed the intestines hanging out of his stomach, and Castys winced, looking away as they began eating once more, thankfully not with as much voracity as before, but them going slower was almost…worse, in a way. He wasn’t as distracted by the chaos and the pain and the blood, and he could tell just how much Aleph was…enjoying this. 

But it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter how he felt, what he was going through. It only mattered that he was going to save Berkeley. That made all of this worth it. It was just one week. He could handle it. For Berkeley.

He grew used to it soon enough, or at least as used to having your organs ripped out and eaten as a guy could get. Aleph had two large meals a day, one midmorning and one early evening, but they took plenty in between to save for later, so he spent most of the day sliced open and bleeding. Really, it took so much scrubbing to get the layers of dried blood caked onto his skin off each night, but Aleph insisted he wash off, and, honestly, he felt gross enough that he actually wanted to, which was saying something. Wearing his red swim trunks here had been the best decision he’d ever made, since they cleaned off pretty well. He probably wouldn’t be too traumatized by all this to wear them again. Probably.

Probably.

He was lying on the table this time, the chain on his wrists secured to some hook or something above his head. His ankles and hips were strapped down, too, but the worst was the one around his fucking neck.

“Sorry, it’s just that I can’t exactly strap down your chest, so this is the best way to keep you still. Try not to choke?” 

“I’ll do my best,” Castys sighed, wincing slightly as he swallowed under the tight leather strap. 

Aleph giggled. “Before we get started, I think we’re going to need my friend’s help with this one.” They stepped away for a moment, and when they returned they were holding…a snake? A big, shiny, purple snake. They held it up proudly. “This is my familiar, Ileum! She’s a real sweetheart, but her venom makes blood clot more quickly, so she’s going to give you a little bite so you don’t die before I’m done with this, okay?”

Castys swallowed, glad this was happening to him, who liked snakes, and not Berkeley. “Uh, okay.” He really didn’t like where this was going if whatever bullshit they were gonna do required him to stay alive longer than a person should, but what could he do? 

Aleph lowered Ileum until she was next to his upper arm, which was also very close to his face. They tapped his bicep. “Right here, girl!” Ileum stared at him for a moment, unblinking, before striking, fangs sinking in and out of his arm so fast it might as well have been an injection. He still flinched, his arm throbbing like he’d been stabbed with a nail. “Good girl,” Aleph cooed, stroking their snake’s head before setting her down on the ground. Shit, had Ileum just been wandering around the whole time he’d been here? He was surprised he’d never seen her. But whatever, he had more important things to focus on right now. Like the fact that he was probably about to get ripped open and gutted like a fish.

Aleph placed a hand on his chest, taking a moment to feel his heartbeat. While Castys didn’t exactly enjoy the feeling of them touching him, he savored his last few moments of not really being in pain before-ah, uh huh, there it was, claws digging into his flesh, tearing away the layer of skin and muscle over the left half of his rib cage. Castys had seen his ribs a lot in the past few days. They looked how you would expect them to look. Rib-y. Aleph wormed a motherfucking crowbar under one of them, and at that moment Castys decided to stare at the bloodstains on the ceiling. Given where he was lying, it was pretty easy to imagine how those got there, all humans ever did in this room was bleed and scream and-

CRACK

The sound was short, loud, sharp, piercing, nestled in his ears, stabbing through his skull, the nonexistent echoes nearly drowning out the sound of the cries humming in his throat, the leather tight over his neck making him all-too aware of them.

There was pain, too, of course there was pain, sharp and bright and suffocating, and now there was pressure again, the next rib being strained until it snapped, causing him to jerk against the straps, and it was all he could do to keep breathing as his vision started to darken, but unconsciousness wasn’t coming for him, no, just a haze of dizziness punctuated by the loud snap of his bones breaking, all the pain blending together until it was all unrecognizable and painful and awful and very very painful-

“Aw, come on, Castys, look at this!” Aleph’s hand curled in his hair, jerking his head up, pressing his throat into the strap over it so hard he could barely breathe. They tore through a thin film over his organs with a claw like they were unwrapping a Christmas present before carefully pawing his lung aside, better exposing his beating heart. Castys had never seen his heart before, or planned on seeing it, or wanted to see it, but there it was, stupidly still beating even after all of this. “It’s so cool to see it going like that, huh?” Castys let out a choked gasp in response, and that seemed to be enough for Aleph, who let go of his hair, his head thunking back against the table. “I’m gonna drink from it!”

Castys didn’t really register what that meant until they were on top of him, straddling his waist, tossing away the last few pieces of splintered bone before lowering their mouth to his heart, giggling as its frantic beats brushed against their lips.

And then gently, tenderly, they bit down.

Thump thump

Their teeth only went in a little, not enough to kill, as much as Castys wished they would.

Thump thump thump thump

They sat like that for a moment, the throbbing muscle massaging their tongue, fresh, hot blood gushing directly into their mouth.

Thump thump thumpthump

Castys only now started screaming, but not because he could feel anything.

Thumpthumpthumpthumpthu-

He didn’t notice the pain anymore, really.

ThumptHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUM-

There was only the figure crouched on top of him, their face in his chest cavity.

ThUMPthUMPThuMptHumPthUMPTHuMpTHUmpTHuptH-

He was so, so grateful when they bit down harder and everything cut to black.

Somehow, he woke up without any noticeable fuckery going on with his ribs, which was cool. Aleph was sitting up now, a mass of…oh, it was the remnants of his heart still in their hand. They must have torn it out before his chest closed up, meaning the one beating inside him now was…not the one he’d been born with. A drop of fresh blood fell from the ceiling and landed on his face, and he switched to gazing at the new constellations he’d added up there while Aleph finished eating. 

That had definitely been one of the worst Anythings of his life, but if he had to do it again for Berkeley’s sake, he would.

 In a heartbeat.

Castys Cult: @as-a-matter-of-whump​ @blackrosesandwhump​ @fanmanga1357-blog​​ @thehopelessopus​ @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi​ @hearse-song​ @muddy-swamp-bitch @whumpasaurus101 @yet-another-heathen​​ @galaxywhump​ @starnight-whump​ @his-unspoken-words​ @misspelledwitch​ @suspicious-whumping-egg​ @pumpkin-spice-whump​ @painsandconfusion​ @i-can-even-burn-salad​​ @befuddled-calico-whump​ @whumpinggrounds​ @whump-queen​

[whump-card]

Sunless Lives Part 25: I Will Wait

~1580 words

CW: drugging, noncon undressing, nonsexual nudity, noncon touch, medical whump, forced institutionalization, ED mention, negative self-talk

First, Previous, Next, Masterlist

~~~

DR MANDAL: I’d like to know how you like the staff and faculty here so far.

M BECK: Oh, they’re great. Everyone’s been wonderful.

DR MANDAL: No trouble at all?

M BECK: None.

DR MANDAL: That’s good to hear. What about the other patients, do you like your roommates?

M BECK: Sure, they’re alright.

DR MANDAL: No issues?

M BECK: We all wake up with nightmares, so it’s not like it’s fair to complain about that.

DR MANDAL: So no issues, but do you like them?

M BECK: I think so. I think everyone here hates themselves so much, it’s hard to connect with other people.

DR MANDAL: That’s very observant. Would you include yourself in that?

[0:26]

M BECK: Yeah.

~~~

The intake process was terrifying. Whatever drugs he’d been given had worn off enough for Simon to be awake, but not enough for him to resist as he was manhandled by orderlies out of the car and into a hulking rock of a building - the title of Fort wasn’t just for show. He didn’t have much time to look before he was inside, lifted onto a gurney and wheeled through a dizzying maze of hallways and into a cold room. Broad-shouldered orderlies leaned over him, and started taking off his clothes. One unzipped his coat, while another sat him up. The coat was jerked over his shoulders and off, and dropped unceremoniously on the floor. Then his turtleneck was peeled off, his arms gripped and guided by strong hands. He whimpered and flinched when they touched his skin directly for the first time, and he distantly registered a laugh. His upper half was dropped back onto the gurney and they set to work on his lower half. Someone pulled off his boots and socks while someone else started unbuttoning his jeans. This sent a shock of panic through Simon, he wanted to tell them to stop, but he couldn’t form the words. He couldn’t form coherent thoughts either, instead his head was overtaken by wordless waves of fear and shame and embarrassment as they pulled his pants and underwear down. A hand briefly grabbed his ass but Simon couldn’t tell if it was on purpose or not. Tears slipped out and ran down his temple and into his ear. He couldn’t even move to brush them away, much less stop anything that was happening. Someone whistled when his thighs were revealed.

“Bloodbag.”

“Yup.”

“Fuckin’ idiot.”

A vague figure ran a hand over his ribs.

“ED watch?”

“Probably.”

“I’ll be deciding that.”

The orderlies backed off, and a gray-haired man in a doctor’s coat took over, briskly taking Simon’s vitals and shining lights in his eyes, ears, and mouth. He manually pulled at Simon’s eyelids and jaw himself, and didn’t address Simon as he worked. Then, Simon could only lie there and watch as the worst happened: the doctor received a camera from an orderly and started taking pictures. His face. His scars. The bites. The flash of the camera left Simon blinded and dazed. The doctor barked at the orderlies to flip him over and Simon heard the camera click as he captured his backside as well. Then he was dropped onto his back again, a sheet was thrown over his lower half, and the room was suddenly quiet and empty.

His head flopped to the side on the thin padding of the gurney, mouth agape. Tears and drool slowly leaked out, out of his control. He felt disgusting. Violated. Scared. This had to be some sort of mistake. There was no way Chris would send him to someplace like this. Your boss and your friends were so very worried, Kelly had said - Gina, Amber, and Devon had had a hand in this as well. He needed to talk to Chris. This all had to be some horrible misunderstanding. It had to be.

He wanted Matthew.

He wanted to go home.

Maybe you made a mistake.

Simon drifted in and out of consciousness for a while, but was finally brought back by his stomach growling loudly. He’d lost a lot of his appetite over the last month, but even he could only go so long without eating. He found he could move his arms, and legs, and even slowly sit up. He discovered some thin, scratchy clothes folded at his feet: a long sleeved t-shirt and elastic-waisted pants, both a sickly shade of green, and started the laborious process of putting them on. He felt sick, dizzy, cold, and hungry, and his limbs moved half a second slower than he wanted them to. He had just pulled up the pants and was standing unsteadily against the gurney when the door opened. He flinched back, grabbing the gurney for support. The large redheaded orderly that entered looked him up and down.

“McKenna?”

“Yes?” Simon breathed.

“With me.” He stepped aside and held the door open. Simon tentatively scooted through under his gaze.

“Where-?”

“Left,” the man ordered.

Simon started walking to the left down the hall, but his legs wobbled under him and he staggered into the wall. The large man caught his upper arm, gripping it hard enough to bruise, and dragged him along.

“That hurts, you’re hurting me,” Simon pleaded. No response. “Where are we going?” Nothing. They passed by more doors and under more fluorescent lights, as well as beady-eyed cameras mounted in high corners. The surveillance reminded Simon of Lara’s house, and his heart pounded. He stumbled to keep up. “I haven’t had anything to eat since yesterday, can -”

The orderly abruptly stopped and slammed Simon into the wall, pinning him there with an arm across his chest that knocked all the air out of Simon’s lungs.

“Don’t ask me for shit,” he growled, “Don’t ask anyone for shit, just do what you’re told, and shut the fuck up.”

Simon nodded, gasping for air. The orderly held him there for a long, threatening moment, clearly enjoying the power trip. Then it was back to being dragged.

After a few more confusing turns, they passed through a heavy security door and into an open room with round tables and scattered chairs, occupied by a handful of other people in the same green outfits as Simon. Orderlies were dotted around the room, observing as patients drew in coloring books and played checkers. It reeked of mildew and sick. Cameras stared from every corner.

“Don’t make any friends,” the redhead whispered in his ear, and released his arm. Simon staggered a couple steps forward, clutching at his aching bicep. Some of the other patients turned in their seats to watch him with languid curiosity.

Simon hugged himself tightly, breathing fast. He didn’t know what the orderly’s warning meant. He didn’t know what to do. He looked around the room in desperation and his heart leapt when he saw the back of someone in pink scrubs - a nurse, not a patient or orderly. The pink reminded him of Tammy at the clinic, and how kind she’d been. He wove through the tables to where she was talking to another patient.

“Excuse me,” Simon tapped her on the shoulder, “I just got here, I don’t know what’s going on, can you help me?”

She turned around slowly, her thin eyebrows high.

“Okay, number one, do not touch the faculty or staff,” she lectured.

“Oh, sorry, I -”

She snapped her hand closed in front of his face.

“Ah-ah! I don’t want to hear it. Who did your intake?”

“I didn’t - I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? Do you know your room number?”

“N-no.”

 She huffed.

“Fine, I’ll look everything up for you. What’s your name, do you at least know that?”

“Simon. McKenna.”

“Thank you.” She strode away, ponytail bouncing, and exited through a security door that she opened with a keycard. Simon watched her go, pressing his knuckles to his mouth.

“That’s Linda,” said the patient she had been talking with - a very tall, very skinny man hunched over a hand of cards. Two others sat opposite him, an older man with a significant tremor and a boy younger than Simon, barely an adult.

“You don’t want to mess with her. I’m Chett, you wanna play cards with us?” the skinny man twanged, and grinned black and yellow teeth in an eerily familiar way that made Simon shrink back.

“S-sorry, no thank you,” he stammered.

“C’mon, sweet little thing like you needs friends!” Chett cajoled, but Simon was already backing away. He found a mercifully empty table and slouched down in the slippery plastic chair to wait for Linda. His heart thrummed and his eyes darted around the room at the other patients still giving him sidelong glances. None of them looked particularly friendly. The orderlies, on the other hand, looked downright hostile. They were all large men, some even larger than Matthew, and they glowered down over the patients like a bank of storm clouds.

Matthew. Simon felt tears spring to his eyes again. Hopefully wherever Matthew was sent was better than this. He put his head down on the table, sheltering under his arms. His mind replayed his last moments with Matthew. Their last kiss.

I’ll come get you.

Only a little while.

It’ll be okay.

You fucking idiot.

Regret started to bubble up in his stomach.

Shouldn’t have gone to the clinic.

He winced at the thought. Matthew, the real Matthew, was back and alive, and he was regretting that?

Worthless.

You deserve to be here.

~~~

First, Previous, Next, Masterlist

Taglist: @flowersarefreetherapy, @pigeonwhumps, @sunshiline-writes, @seasaltandcopper

[somnoflesh]

“You’re crying?”

Keeper removes his hands from his wings. He leans forward to grab little bird’s arms from behind and presses his winged back against his chest. Holding him from moving…though he was too struck with a paralyzing fear that he wouldn’t have moved anyway.

“You’re seriously crying, little bird?”

His voice is never raised. He never yells. It’s what scares birdie the most. He seems to have so much self-control despite how often he grabs and pins him still when he weeps. He scolds him so softly, reprimands him in such a kind voice, that no matter the words coming from his mouth, it seems so truthful. Something in your best interest.

“You’re that scared of me, are you? I’ve done nothing to hurt you. In fact, I do so much to help you…yet you cry. You cry like i’m so horrific…like I don’t clean you and feed you. As if I don’t put clothes on your back made just for you…”

Little bird attempts to give a weak and hoarse ‘i’m sorry’ and nothing comes out. Just his ever hitched breathing and scared little chirps each time the keeper adjusted his hold on his wrists.

“That’s enough.”

He lets go.

“I’m going back to my room. Try to calm down before your bath.”

He stands up and leaves with no other parting words. Leaving the door wide open. He left little bird to sit and cry over nothing. He never took his wings from him. He never yelled at him. Yet the little bird couldn’t help but sob.

What a pathetic birdie he was.

(from: chapter one)

[suncaptor]

I KNOW that this is just a dumb joke Dean is making to break the tension of a very terrifying life or death situation they both went through but. uh. even casual even as a joke. the victim blaming never ends huh. like she sought him out and manipulated him and he never even expressed wanting to be with her verbally and yet he can get touched and kissed against his consent and it's his fault that the catastrophe is in his wake.

[copics-and-renegades]

Whumptober 2023 Day 01: But Now This Room Is Spinning While I'm Trying Just To Fill In All The Gaps

Look at these canines, man.

---

IT'S THIS TIME OF THE YEAR AGAIN EVERYONE

When I first read the prompt, my mind IMMEDIATELY went "spinning. dizziness. vertigo. drugged. drugged out of his mind trying to make sense of it all and VERY much not able to fight back." Gods, I just LOVE me some good drugging. :D From there I just went with things I also absolutely love: the horrific invasiveness of someone TOUCHING IN YOUR MOUTH UGH and also the hot huge pointy canines I decided to give all the half-elves for no reason other than that I like drawing them. Also drooling hehehehe.

I warned for forced stripping etc., too, because while that was NOT planned, I was just SO THIRSTY for Botta's exposed belly lol. So when I was done the entire piece had this "wait, this DOES have a groping component oh damn" vibe?? So I'm warning for what it turned into even though it was not in my initial plan lol. I guess they're checking out just what they've got there...?????

[whumpbump]

🧤for baby

Surprise Exam

Cw: noncon touching and undressing, physical restraints, NSFW

As Whumpee tried to come to terms with their new life, BiBi and ZaZa entered the playroom with big fake smiles plastered across their faces.

“Hiiiii there, Little One.”

Whumpee looked up suspiciously.

“We have a guest! This is Dr. Burns.”

A tall man stepped into the doorway. This would not be good.

Dr. Burns looked down and smiled professionally, not sincerely. He placed his bag on the play table and said to BiBi and ZaZa “ok hold them down.”

Whumpee tried to book it to the door but was quickly subdued, pajamas removed, and held tight.

Dr. Burns checked in Whumpee’s ears, eyes, nose, pressed on their stomach a few times, listened to their heart and lungs, and finally when Whumpee thought it was over, Dr. Burns said “ok I’ll need the diaper removed for the orifice search.”

Hearing this, Whumpee’s eyes nearly popped out of their head.

BiBi removed the diaper while ZaZa kept their Baby still.

Snapping a pair of gloves on, the doctor smeared some lubricant on his finger and without hesitation or warning, shoved his finger up Whumpee’s anus.

The sharp pain of the foreign object startled Whumpee, yelping and squirming but contained in the arms of their ZaZa and BiBi.

The doctor felt around for what seemed like forever but after a few seconds, he seemed pleased with his lack of findings and pulled his finger out.

The doctor handed BiBi a wet wipe to clean the Baby’s bottom and said “all looks well, you have a healthy young Baby. Best of luck to you both.” With that, he left quickly.

As soon as the doctor left, BiBi and ZaZa sighed in relief. They let their Baby redress, patted them on the head, and left them to watch their television in horrified silence, alone.

[missbunnybunny]

❣💌[ I'm stravin' , Darlin' ]💌❣

Tw: non-con, dubcon, yandere, stalking, Somnophilia, Drugging, breeding, cockwarming.

A/n: this is my first detailed smut. It was going well at the start until I took a wrong turn and fell off a cliff. Possessive music got influence. I don't know what I wrote, am going to hell, his more delusional; than me. smh. ENJOY!

Note: this is a y/n x pretty yandere, female-bodied reader. Based on the songs Eat Your Young by Hozier and An Unhealthy Obsession by Blake Robinson, helped write this song. pet names such as Darlin, Love, and good girl. If I forgot something plz tell me.

╔═.✧ 🖤 ✧.═══════════╗ ▶︎ 𝕾𝖍𝖊’𝖘 𝖘𝖔 𝖉𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖓𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖎 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖛𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖊. ╚═══════════.✧ 🖤 ✧.═╝ Part 2 ↥

You were exhausted. Who could blame you for being tired? You enjoyed your job as the owner of a small coffee shop, but you were drained and your staff adored you. When they had an emergency, you were incredibly nice to them and understanding. You didn't inquire, you just told them not to worry because you trusted them and they trusted you.

You didn't hesitate to assist your staff when an aggressive customer screamed and yelled at them. You listened to all sides of the story and kept your eyes on the cameras. When they realized they didn't have a foothold, you politely requested them to go. But if they weren't kind enough to go, you merely called the cops. You would never let them get away with it; you had patience, but not that much.

So, after the day was done, you secured your doors and walked upstairs to your house. You double-checked that all the doors and windows were secured and that the security system was turned on and operational. Taking a soothing bubble bath, dressing, and preparing for some much-needed rest. Closing your eyes and basking in the warm embrace of sleep. Your eyes slowly opened, and you attempted to move your fingers, but they wouldn't budge. You had been under a lot of stress recently due to overwork, and sleep paralysis was now typical for you.

You could hear your door opening and the floors squeaking. The ebony form of a guy appeared. He was tall, and the broadness of his shoulders suggested that he worked out. As you felt the bed drop at your feet, he sat at the end of it. His hand began to go up and down your leg gently. Coming to a halt at your thigh. He hummed to himself while pinching your inner thigh.

You uttered a grunt. He came to a halt and gazed up at you. As he peered down at your face, his face slowly entered the frame. "Oh, how pretty," he said, lovingly cupping your face. "I don't think I could hold myself back." His breath lightly fanning your face, he murmured. He kissed you, and you let out a frightened moan and screwed your eyes shut. He took advantage of the situation by inserting his tongue inside your mouth. While squeezing your inner thigh, he hummed to himself. His hand creeps up and beneath your shirt from your thigh. He pulled your nipple and squeezed your breast. He linked his mouth to yours with a thin string of saliva. He licked his lower lip. "You taste amazing," he replied with a smile.

He kissed your lips once more, and you felt him get out of bed. You sprang awake and took a glance around. Your clothing was in good condition and not flung around. You raced to your restroom and looked in the mirror; there were no handprints anywhere on you. You rushed to your front door, terrified, and examined your alarm system; nothing was amiss. You were befuddled, and your thinking was jumbled. You summarized it up to well: an odd wet dream, stress, and being punted up may all lead to unusual nightmares, especially when combined with sleep paralysis.

You sipped your favorite comfort drink, rubbed your temples, and took a few deep breaths. Exhale a sigh of relief as you feel your tension wash away. You put on your business attire and prepare to open your shop. The business opens at 8 a.m., so you were there by 6:30, and by 7 a.m., staff began to arrive. Everyone was having a fantastic time in the shop, which was filled with laughter and music. When the clock struck eight, you laughed, "It's eight, you know what to do. Hit it!" Everyone queued up got into place, and you opened the store. Customers arrived quickly after that.

When a well-dressed man entered and approached the counter, your staff was busy. As you finished serving one of your usual clients, you noticed him and called, "I'll be with you in a minute." "Thank you, hun." The kind old lady stated. You smiled at her and walked over to the counter to assist the man. "I'm sorry, did I keep you waiting too long?" you said as you set up the ordering machine. "No, not at all." He informed you in hushed tones, he was attractive, you had to admit it. His voice seemed strangely familiar to you, but you couldn't place it. But you shrugged it off and smiled as you asked him what he needed.

"A coffee with a cake," he answered politely. "Ah, what cake would you like sir, we have many options." you beam up at him, giving him a tiny smile. "Oh, what would you recommend, my dear?" he asks, quietly tapping the counter. "Would red velvet cake be acceptable?" "It's one of my favorites," you inquired. He nodded, and you concluded his order with a small 'mm'. " Would that be all, sir?" "If so, this is your total," you say, pointing to the sum on the side of the register. " Yes." He responded and paid.

As soon as the order appears on the screen, one of your staff takes it while you assist with the other tasks and clients. Since the front of the store was fully filled, the man was directed to the back. He could see the counter and you from where he was seated. The manager patted you on the shoulder and smiled at you as they spoke to you. You chuckle and smile as you remove your apron. "I'm taking a break, everyone," you say. 'Okay, ma'am,' they respond. You step away from the counter and take a seat on one of the unoccupied stools close to his table. While on the phone with someone, you smile and giggle.

He can't stop staring at you. It was fortunate that he instructed his assistant to investigate you. He even postponed a lunch date with the daughter of a well-known corporation. He didn't mind because he could tell she was attempting to catch his attention. He couldn't care less about how much her clothing cost or how it 'accidentally' revealed her chest. He'd rather be here, staring at your face and grin. It was a coincidence that he first spotted you; one of his clients requested to meet at this cafe since they genuinely enjoyed your coffee and sweets. He couldn't get your face out of his mind and thoughts after that.

Your phone call had finished, and you turned to meet his gaze. You froze as you studied his face. He saw the fact and grinned. You realized he hadn't touched his cake and sighed in despair. "Do you not like the cake, Sir?" You questioned him quietly, your gaze fixed on the plate. "Oh, no, it's not like that. "I was saving the cake for last because it was so delicious." He let you know quietly. "Oh, okay," you said as you stood up and turned around. "Would you like to join me?" he offered, and you graciously accepted his invitation.

You spoke till your break ended. He became a regular client after that and frequently asked about your favorite treats to try. It had been months since then, yet you still felt tired whenever you saw him. He was the final customer in the shop on one such occasion. You sent your employees early, not wanting to keep them waiting so they didn't miss their bus or train. "It's closing time, Mister Blackwell; you should go home," you said. "I told you to call me James, Darling." He told you firmly. " However, I agree. Wouldn't want anything to happen to you." While drinking his drink, he informed you.

"Would you mind joining me before I leave?" He remarked this while pointing to the seat next to him. you exclaimed, "You are extremely persistent." You shook your head and set your favorite drink on the table. turning around and laying a little slice of cake next to your drink. You had no idea what he had placed into your drink by the time you sat next to him. He grinned as you took a sip of your drink, seeing your expression shift.

He watched as your eyes gradually closed and you collapsed on the table, spilling your cup on the floor. "What…did you do?" You questioned him carefully, feeling yourself nodding off. "Don't worry, my love, I'll take care of you." As you eventually slid away, you heard him declare. You wake up with him twirling his tongue at your clit, then cat licking your entrance, going back and up to your clit, before his tongue went into your pussy, tasting every inch of it. You eventually let out a whimper as the knot in your gut finally split and you filled his mouth with your cum. "You're awake, I hope you don't mind," he whipped his mouth with his palm. "I was dying to taste you." He stated. His gaze moved up and down your body, forming an image of you in his mind. You attempted to speak, but all you got was a broken wail. Your eyes adjusted to the darkness, and you were entirely bare to him. Your eyes began to water, and silent tears streamed down your cheeks. " Why are you crying, Darlin?" He stated this as he licked your tears away before giving you a ravenous kiss, His tongue quickly claiming your mouth.

He released your lips as he stated, "It will take a while until you can move again, but don't worry, I'll make you feel good." He gently graded your hand before bringing it to the bulge on his pants. "This is what you did to me." He talked as he stroked your palm up and down his bulge, letting out a groan as he began to accelerate. He stared down at you, hungry, and proceeded to remove his outfit. He was now entirely exposed for you to see. " Oh, very lovely. I'm curious how you'll look after I slit you in half on my dick." He murmured this as he sank his thick fingers into your pussy, causing your back to arch. When he noticed your body jerked up and your jaw fell open, he smiled even more.

He discovered your sweet spot! He curled his fingers in the same place over and over. You felt that familiar tight knot in your gut emerges, prompting you to tighten your walls around his fingers. "That's it, cum on my fingers like the good girl you are," he said. Your walls flutter subconsciously at his words, "Oh, you like being called a good girl?" he questioned, advancing faster. Your moans and whimpers sounded like music to his ears. He was itching to sink his dick into you. You came undone under him with one more stroke, cumming on his fingers and hand. He took his hand away and brought it up to his mouth, licking your juices. "You taste divine." He exhaled.

He positioned himself at your entrance, tapping his dick on your assaulted lips. He graded your legs and pushed them on your chest in a typical mating press position, and you could plainly see his pink tip and how enormous he was. Once he got you the way he wanted you, you felt the swelling tip of his cock press against your tight entrance and buckle his hip. He bottoms out in one push, his pelvis colliding with your entrance. He took your breath away since he was so large. And, as he claimed, he was splitting you in half with his dick. "Don't pass out on me, Darlin," he remarked, softly patting your cheek with his palm." The fun is just getting started," he remarked as he kissed you on the lips. Allowing you to get used to his size before proceeding. You were so tight! And you are his and his alone.

His cock began to slide in and out of your tight pussy, as if you were nothing more than a fleshlight at his disposal. "Y/n I'm going to make you only mine," your desperate cries mixed with groans as you sought to stop him. The sound of skin smacking against skin got louder as he thrust harder and harder. Your muscles were absolutely spasming, and your eyes could hardly fixate or focus on his sweat-splattered face above you.

So this was how it felt to be with a man like him, putting you precisely where you should have always been. BELOW HIM, you were groaning, saliva flowing from the corners of your lips, and your eyes rolled up every time his cock brushed your cervix and his pelvic bone stroked against your swollen clit. Your eyes met his and he kissed you passionately; the longer the two of you kissed, the more his hips appeared to press into yours. The headboard of the bed was crashing fiercely into the wall, adding yet another obscene sound to the symphony.

You could feel his dick pounding against your walls; it was clear he was nearing his climax, which was going to totally fill you up to the point of leaking, and then fuck a baby into your womb. As he furiously pounded into you, his hands came to your waist and had a tight grasp on you. You felt James base expand and get even bigger only seconds before his hot sperm was spurting into your womb and the veins surrounding his dick were pulsating against your walls, making you gasp for the nth time. The sensation of being totally filled was so intense that you almost ended up cumming again.

He lay down next to you, panting and allowing you to collect your breath. As your body was extremely sore, he began spooning you from behind his cock, still inside you. "Sleep, Love, you must be tired," he kissed your neck. I'll prepare something for you in the morning." You were exhausted, and your half-lined eyelids eventually closed as you slept off. James grabbed up his phone and called over your sleeping figure. The phone rang till someone answered, "Ray?" "Did you do what I asked?" he inquired calmly. "Yes, I made sure to delete the footage of you breaking into the home months ago, as well as the alarm system," Ray stated gently. "Perfect" James smiled, hanging up the call as he fell asleep next to you.

After so long of only admiring you from afar and secretly stroking you as you slept, he was overjoyed to finally hold you in his arms. Don't worry, you can have a better life because He will take excellent care of you. "It'll take some getting used to, but we'll make it work." were his final thoughts as he fell asleep affectionately sound asleep with you in his arms.

Am gonna dig a hole and hide. bye....👩🏽‍🦯

Update there’s a new hole to hide now 🕳️ 👩🏽‍🦯

[quietly-by-myself]

Kinda random but how about a painful massage for Sacha?

Thank you so much for the anon!! As you wish...

CW: slavery whump, conditioned whumpee, silent whumpee, bone relocation, creepy/intimate whumper, carewhumping, stress position, dubcon/noncon touching

===

"Come here, Sacha."

Sacha never knew what to expect when Master called him. He knew it would be painful, yes, but the tortures that Master put him through were different and unpredictable.

Like the night before, when Sacha had made a noise and earned himself hours of being hung in a horrible position forward by his neck, with his arms wrenched behind him.

"I took your punishment too far, Sacha. You were just whimpering. I should not have left you for that long. Let me help you."

Master was sitting in his leather chair, a glass of whisky on the table next to him. Sacha was sitting next to him on the floor.

Master motioned for Sacha to come up on the ottoman in front of the leather chair. Sacha hesitated. He was never allowed up on the furniture when Master took him upstairs. Even just allowing him upstairs showed some level of kindness Sacha was not normally afforded. It was a relief to be out of the basement, though he knew that it came with a hefty price tag. One he would have to pay now.

Sacha eventually obeyed. Master immediately put his hands on Sacha, feeling his shoulder. He massaged it surprisingly gently, but the digging caused Sacha pain like no other.

Eventually, Master moved onto his other shoulder, massaging the base of his neck, his shoulder blades, and his upper spine. All of it popped and cracked and stung with a horrible agony.

Sacha wanted to cry out, but whimpering was what had gotten him there in the first place.

"Your shoulders are dislocated. Subluxed. Whatever the word is. They're a bit out of place. I'll relocate them for you. Don't move and don't make a sound."

Sacha stiffened, ready to obey. Master put his hand on Sacha's arm and massaged gently, working the shoulder bone into place. The pressure in his arms gradually faded as Master continued the massage. His arms hurt less and his neck felt like it might've been able to support itself.

Even though every motion Master made into his muscles hurt, Sacha didn't care. He was being touched without Master intentionally causing him pain.

It was a relief he couldn't describe.

It was a mercy he didn't deserve.

===

Tags: @whumpsday, @i-can-even-burn-salad, @pigeonwhumps, @darkthingshappen, @pumpkin-spice-whump, @darlingwhump, @maracujatangerine, @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi, @flowersarefreetherapy, @octopus-reactivated, @quietshae, @whump-blog, @inkkswhumpandstuff, @whumpycries, @whumpkinz

[redd956]

Ice Elemental Whumper 🧊

Brrrrr...it's chilly...and whumper isn't helping

Whumpee's got elemental whumper specifically one of the cold denomination, here are some ideas for that 💡

CW: Noncon Touching

Whumper is cold to the touch, and they absolutely know it. They frequently hug, rub against, and touch Whumpee, watching Whumpee recoil to the cold. It’s even worse because if Whumper isn’t careful the cold will become too much.

Being near Whumper is a danger, because it’s always below freezing

Whumper forming ice and snow into sharp blades, pointing one to Whumpee’s neck.

Whumper despises any form of warmth, so they forbade Whumpee to deal with any as well. No heater’s, no open flames, and a strong avoidance of the sunlight. Whumpee will do anything to feel a flicker of warmth again.

Whumper despises people due to how elementals have been treated, Whumpee is just another step in cathartic revenge.

Whumper’s personality is just as cold as their body temperature

Whumpee escaped, and feels pretty confident, until a freak blizzard is summoned to hinder their attempt

Whumper’s house is coated in frost, the carpet stiff and snow coated, Whumpee shivering in the corner

Whumper won’t even give Whumpee something warm to wear, they’ll have to earn it

Whumper is just as afraid of Whumpee as Whumpee is of them

[whump-card]

Forged Divinity Chapter 4: Leannan Talks Back

1632 words

CW: institutionalized slavery, religious themes, noncon touch, noncon kiss, abuse

Previous, Masterlist, Next

~~~

Luke 12:47

The servant who knows the master’s will and does not get ready or does not do what the master wants will be beaten with many blows.

~~~

As used to traveling rough as they were, Phineas appreciated the shower – even if it was cold – the clean clothes, and the soft bed.

The soft bed that they would be sharing with a very annoyed Iowan.

The room was small, and the ceiling had water stains, but it smelled clean and the air felt dry, despite the rain pattering outside. Phineas couldn’t complain, not when they had such good entertainment.

Leannan looked particularly adorable with heavy, wet curls, and pouting, chubby lips, standing with his arms crossed at the side of the bed. Phineas was already lying down, their head propped on one hand, watching Leannan in the lantern light.

“I’ll just sleep on the floor,” he said for the third time.

“Bed ain’t that small,” Phineas countered.

“Whatever,” Leannan tossed his head, “At least I’ll have it all to myself while you’re gone.”

“What do you mean?” Phineas’ smile faded slightly.

“While you’re off on your assassin mission,” Leannan waved a hand, “I’m staying here, right?”

Phineas’ smile returned.

“I’m staying here,” Leannan repeated, “Right?”

“Oh no, bebino, you’re coming with me. I can’t leave you here where someone could take advantage of my property.”

Leannan stared at Phineas, open-mouthed. “How am I supposed to just… tag along while you kill someone?”

“You shut the fuck up and do what I say. And that starts with getting a good night’s sleep, so come the fuck to bed.”

Leannan huffed, and stubbornly stayed in place.

Phineas sat up. “Y’know, I don’t know a ton about Iowans. But what I do know – what everyone knows – is that they have to do whatever their master says. And if they don’t, their master can beat the everloving shit out of them. I also know that Iowans can’t be raped, not by their master. They have to take whatever their master gives them. So you listen to me,” Phineas pointed at Leannan threateningly, their voice going low, “Just because I like a feisty personality doesn’t mean I enjoy disobedience. I am your master, I own you, and if you don’t do as I say there will be consequences. So. Get. In. To. Bed.”

Leannan didn’t look scared, exactly, which was disappointing, but he did lift the covers and climb into bed next to Phineas, which sent a rush of adrenaline and power through their veins. They waited until Leannan was completely settled, then leaned over and kissed him harshly on the mouth, reaching down and grabbing between his legs and squeezing. Not enough to hurt, just a warning.

Leannan whimpered anyway. Pathetic.

Phineas withdrew and leaned the other way, over to the lantern on the bedside table.

“Goodnight,” they said pleasantly, and blew it out.

~~~

The next morning, Leannan behaved as if he were suitably chastised, quiet and obedient. But his mind raced, trying to come up with a good reason for Phineas to leave him behind. The problem was, Phineas was impossible to predict; they didn’t seem to care terribly deeply for Leannan’s safety, despite hinging their future on him. It was irrational.

Leannan sat in the background, half-listening to the meeting between Councilman Brochard and Phineas. First they had discussed the dispatchment of King Gauthier; his location, his likely safeguards, what Phineas was to do afterwards. Now they were looking over maps and discussing the various options available to Phineas upon their success. Locations, crop yields, number of residing peasants. Once upon a time, this would have been Leannan’s bread and butter – rubbing up against the nobility, asking innocent, steering questions to guide them to the conclusion his master desired. But Leannan had no insight into the goals of either negotiator, his current master nor his future one. He felt terribly in the dark.

The door squealed open, startling them all – well, not Phineas – and a guard rushed in.

“Councilman Faverolle is here – ah!”

The guard was shoved aside by a man entering behind him. Though he was much broader, there was an undeniable family resemblance between him and Councilman Brochard; thin light brown hair, and similar narrow noses.

“What is this I hear about you selling a council seat for a common whore, Uncle?!” he shouted, “Es-tu putain de sénile?”

“James, James!” Councilman Brochard raised his hands, “It’s much more complicated than that! Here, take a seat, I will explain.”

Faverolle sat in the offered chair in a huff, crossing his arms.

“C’est Phineas Kaŝpafisto,” Brochard extended a hand towards Phineas, “Et, euh, pour expliquer…”

The Councilman began to explain the situation to Faverolle in French. Faverolle’s face shifted from outrage, to consternation, to begrudging curiosity, casting glances at Leannan.

“Avez-tu goûté le produit?” he asked Brochard a question, pointing at Leannan.

“… Pas exactement,” Brochard replied hesitantly.

Faverolle considered this for a moment. Then he addressed Phineas, in English.

“The whole Council will need to sign off on your deal before it goes forward. You have seen clearly what we have to offer; we are familiar with your skills; I believe it is only fair that we are allowed to ascertain the quality of the Iowan.”

Phineas folded their arms, leaning against the table.

“You want to fuck my Iowan,” they said knowingly.

Leannan kept his expression pleasantly neutral. He could already tell Faverolle would be a distasteful master, but he wasn’t about to show that on his face. ‘Distasteful’ was better than whatever the hell Phineas was; there was no way Leannan would jeopardize this deal.

If Faverolle needed to fuck him, well… that was the price Leannan always paid for a home.

Phineas let the silence fester for another breath before they tilted their head with a smile.

“No.”

Faverolle looked insulted.

“Surely, it’s only fair-”

“You should be assured of his quality by the simple fact that he’s an Iowan. You can prick him and check his blood color, if you like, but as it stands he belongs to me. I’m not interested in letting anyone else touch him.” Phineas straightened, dropping their arms. “I will be leaving tomorrow. Whether I will be returning south, or hunting your King, is up to you. You know what I want, and what I offer. I’m done negotiating.” They snapped their fingers at Leannan and strode out the door. Leannan followed, rushing to keep up.

“That’s not usually how negotiations like this are done!” Leannan hissed once they were out of earshot of the room and walking down the dim, sagging hallways of the Council building.

“It’s always worked for me.”

“I guess you are a little…” Leannan looked Phineas up and down as they walked, from their odd tufty hair, to the ever-present rifle, to their bulky miss-matching clothes, “… Different.”

Phineas bared their teeth in a threatening smile.

“You got that right.”

~~~

That night, Phineas requested various bowls and amounts of heated water from the Council’s servants, and set about mixing the henna they had gotten from the merchant into a thick sludge that they pasted onto their hair. It was a valued monthly ritual for them, as long as they could find the stuff.

Leannan, of course, watched with confusion. Phineas didn’t bother explaining anything to the whore. Why should they? It wasn’t until the next morning when Phineas’ hair was fully dry and visibly a brighter shade of red that it seemed to click for Leannan.

The two of them packed up their things, all the while Leannan clearly grew more and more anxious. His eyes darted from the door, to Phineas, to the door again. As a distant bell chimed 8 o’clock, he lost his patience.

“You blew it!” he accused Phineas, flinging his packed bag onto the bed, “You are so… insane! You should have given me to Faverolle! Why do you even care, anyway?”

Phineas had had about enough of Leannan’s lack of faith, and his attitude. They rounded on Leannan, rushing towards him and forcing him to stumble backwards. They grabbed the front of his shirt and threw him down onto the bed, climbing onto him and straddling his hips.

“I thought I made it pretty clear last night,” they said, their voice icy calm, “If you kept acting up, there would be consequences.”

“Phineas,” Leannan spoke quietly, his voice wavering, “Phineas, I’m sorry.” His eyes were wide, but otherwise his expression was schooled.

“Hmm. I don’t think you are,” Phineas said casually, and drew back their arm and punched Leannan just below the ribs. Leannan cried out, and his body bucked underneath Phineas.

“I’m sorry!” he begged, putting his hands up, “I’m really sorry, Phineas!”

There it was – fear, on his face. Phineas smiled. Their hands settled on Leannan’s chest, harsh grips and violence turning to soft caresses. Leannan picked up on the shift immediately, and he wiggled his hips slightly, trying to stimulate Phineas.

“I can be good for you, I swear,” he breathed, lowering his eyelashes.

Phineas narrowed their eyes. They leaned down as if to kiss Leannan, but stopped millimeters from the man’s lips.

“You’re disgusting,” they whispered.

“Yes, Phineas,” Leannan agreed automatically.

“You’re subhuman.”

“Yes, Phineas.”

“You should know your place.”

“Yes, Phineas.”

“What are you?”

“I’m disgusting,” Leannan dutifully recited, “I’m subhuman. I know my place.”

Someone knocked on the door. Phineas sat up.

“Come in!” they called.

A guard entered, faltering and averting his eyes when he saw Phineas and Leannan’s positions.

“The Council had reached a decision, monsieur,” he said, “They accept your terms.”

Phineas smirked. “Thanks. You can go.”

Clearly relieved, the guard scurried out. Phineas leaned back down over Leannan.

“What did I,” they flicked Leannan’s nose, making him flinch, “Fucking tell you?”

“I shouldn’t have doubted you, Phineas, I’m sorry,” Leannan whispered.

“Damn right,” Phineas practically bounced off of the bed. “Get up, slut. We have a king to kill.”

~~~

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