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whumpinthepot · 3 hours
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Febwhump 2024 - Day 2 - Solitary Confinement
- Water Prison -
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whumpinthepot · 11 hours
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Guess who finally was able to write the next hamster chap 😀 yippy hooray
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whumpinthepot · 11 hours
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we used to have normalized whump. remember what they took from you....
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whumpinthepot · 12 hours
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Eek, its two days before the deadline for my event and suddenly im anxious ;A;
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whumpinthepot · 12 hours
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Hamster Interactive Story
Chapter 11. Jar
Prev - Masterlist
Content: Loss of a disability device, trapping, mending wounds, sticky trap, fear/begging, power dynamics, Giant/tiny, pet trope, 
Pov: Soap Scrub
Poll winner: Get the tape off with oil, bandage him, then cage him. 
ART, WRITING, AND POLL UNDER THE CUT
This is it. You’re going to be killed by the human. Squashed like a bug under her thumb unless you can talk her out of it. Except when you open your mouth nothing but air comes out in a strangled huff. 
Ashley stops staring at you, and puts Hamster back in her cage in a hurry. She comes back and hovers her hands out in an unsure motion and for a second you think she might slam her palm to flatten you. Instead, she grabs some supplies from the cupboard. Some oil, gloves, scissors, and bandages. She sets them all down around you, staring down at you with more disgust than worry. 
“P-Please don’t kill me!” You finally find your voice, but it comes out in a desperate squeak, “I’ll do anything…” 
“Were you the one who hurt Hamster?” Ashley’s voice booms over you, and she slams her hand onto the counter next to you. You scream in terror, recoiling as much as you can without yanking on your trapped skin. 
“Wh-What? No! No, I didn’t hurt her at all. Ask her. Right? Girl?” You snap your attention to Hamster who’s staring at you in worry from her cage. Her lip is trembling, and she’s holding the bars. 
Ashley looks over to her pet, and her face goes from terrifying to nurturing, “Did this boy hurt you, Sweetheart? Mummy can make him go away, don’t be scared. You can tell me.” 
Hamster glances at you, and you shake your head quickly, silently pleading at her to save your life. Hamster copies you, and shakes her head. She looks close to tears herself and reaches her hand out to point at you, then makes a grabbing motion. 
“Did he scare you before?” She changes the question and tilts her head slightly. She starts putting the gloves on while keeping her attention on Hamster. 
Hamster pauses, and looks at you again. You shake your head more desperately, with fresh tears welling up in your eyes. You’re sorry. You’re really sorry… 
Hamster starts to nod, but then stops, and shakes her head vigorously. Maybe she’s figured it out that you’re about to be killed. She reaches towards you with more force, her face pressing against the bars. 
“Are you worried about him…?” Ashley hesitates, and then pulls Hamster cage closer to the sink so she can see better, still talking to her. “Oh Honey, I’m so sorry I scared you. I won’t hurt him, okay? Please don’t cry…” She puts her finger into Hamster’s cage and rubs her cheeks softly. 
You can’t believe it, Hamster might have just saved your life. Tears fall off of your chin with relief. Still, when Ashley’s fingers come near you the fear is overwhelming and you feel as though you might faint. She pauses, waiting for you to start breathing again. “Don’t be so scared, I’m helping you,” she says, then squints. “Hey, wait a minute. Is that my jacket?!” She pulls your coat out of the goopy mess, and holds it up to her face. 
You start apologizing profusely but she stops you. “We’ll talk about this after.” She chucks the jacket off to the side and grabs the bottle of oil.
The human starts dabbing oil around the sticky parts of the trap, and carefully picks the whole trap up with you on it. You yelp, and cower with your head bowed, but she simply places you in the kitchen sink so she can keep working. 
She’s rough, and prods at your skin with an oiled gloved finger, “You know, I don’t believe her, but I won’t hurt you. I would never do anything to upset her. You know that right?” It sounds like a threat towards you, and you grit your teeth with a pained cry when she pops your damaged hand free. 
You can’t see Hamster from the cold metal walls of the sink, but you know she’s right there listening. Ashley seemed to value Hamster’s opinion, and it would probably be in your favour to suck up to the pet to keep her more inclined to vouch for your safety. 
You plead with Ashley while she oils around your face, and she flinches away as if you’re about to bite her. “What- What are you going to do with me? I- Please let me go! I promise I’ll- You’ll never see me again!” 
“I don’t know yet.” Ashley murmurs, pulling the piece off your face with a yank. It pulls a chunk of your hair out with it and you cry out, cradling your face. 
Her hands move down to your prosthetic doll leg before you have time to recover from the assault. When she pinches it, your panic spikes.
“Wait- Wait, no, don’t touch that!” You’re growling, and grab at her finger to try to stop her. Ashley pulls away with a sharp startled inhale, like you scared her, and her expression goes dark. 
Two fingers are suddenly pushing you down against the sink floor, and your leg is twisted off with a harsh tug. You scream, and she lets go. You watch your leg get lifted out of sight, and you start to sob. You’re immobilized without it, or at least at an extreme disadvantage. 
You can hear Ashley reassuring Hamster again, and you curl up into a ball with your free limbs, crying uncontrollably. Ashley oils up your legs next and starts massaging them free, until your sore raw skin is separated from the trap completely. 
She must feel bad at this point because her sadistic tone dissipates, and she’s suddenly apologizing and telling you not to cry. She wipes your wounds with antiseptic wipes, which sting badly but you’re already crying uncontrollably so the noise doesn’t make much difference, “I can’t afford another vet trip, I'm sorry…” She’s apologizing again, and you have half a mind to tell her off. But you don’t. She could hurt you too easily, and you’d have to be an idiot to bait her right now. 
The bandages go on next, and you’re sniveling with hitched shaky breaths. When her hand wraps around you in the motion to pick you up, you can’t take it. You push away from her and duck out of her grip, trying to crawl away from her. “Please stop touching me!”
Ashley pulls her hand away with her mouth turned down, then she grabs an open jar to hold out to you. “Get in this then.” 
You look at her like she’s insane. “To be trapped?! No way… You have to let me go, I’m not a pet!” 
Ashley sighs, and pushes you in with a frightful lurch. Her strength is incomparable to anything you can do, and you’re brushed into the jar like a dust bunny. You tumble when she lifts it, and land at the bottom with your knees and elbows smashing against the hard glass. You’re placed in front of Hamster so she can see that you’re okay. Well, as okay as you can be. Her eyes are puffy from crying. 
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The lid is screwed on after Ashley stabs some holes in it, so you’re really trapped, but you’re given a thimble of water and some granola to hold you over. Hamster and Ashley are both staring at you expectantly. Ashley starts asking you some questions about yourself, but you’re too upset to talk. You’re not telling her your name, or where you’re from, or how you lost your leg, but you do have to stay alert. So you just stare at her with your back pressed against the back of the jar. 
You’ve never been so scared in your life… 
Special thanks to my beautiful @alittlewhump for proof reading <3333
Tag list: @frogkingdom @verkja @whumpsday @octopus-reactivated @marvel-gt @rsitb-second-account @fallen-grace-smd @winged-wolf-s-collection-of-arts @kyp-the-spacekiwi @ilasknives @hollowgast-whump @whither-wander-whump @redd956 @zobodahobo @blackrosesandwhump @angst-after-dark @sandygarnelle @coppercoyoti @kim-poce @mayisreallygay @smoll-stace @demondamage @vickytokio @sunshiline-writes @whump-in-the-closet @coyotehusk @sunrisedotnet @shadowsnowdapple @whumpy-wyrms @re-whump
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whumpinthepot · 1 day
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Febuwhump 2024 - Day 3 - "Bite down on this"
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whumpinthepot · 2 days
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im kind of interested, as a person in the whump community under the age of 18, what percentage of this community is under 18. i see a lot of whump blogs that say minors DNI, which is a struggle for me since i literally thrive off reading whump. is it weird for me to enjoy whump since im underage and the topics we write about are typically quite fucking disgusting?
pls reblog, just because it helps with the purpose of the poll <3
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whumpinthepot · 2 days
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My friend requested a mad scientist blinkie, and I made two prototypes before settling on the first design. I decided to put them all together so that they're a set.
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whumpinthepot · 3 days
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I drew one of my characters ❤️ It’s Heather!!!! Looks like she’ll have to visit the dry cleaner’s later :)
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whumpinthepot · 3 days
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Stray 36
prev masterlist
tw institutional/systemic pet whump, second person pov (and you're the pet!), dehumanisation, noncon drugging (needle), manipulation, gaslighting, manhandling
You promise the woman you'll be there, then hang up the phone and breathe a sigh of relief. Your situation is not entirely hopeless. You almost cannot believe it.
Now, there are several ways of acquiring those papers, or files, or whatever. You could try through Pet Liberation; maybe they have an insider. You could also ask Rayan again; he clearly doesn't want to break rules, but maybe if you utilise your best puppydog eyes, he'll change his mind.
But all that can come later. First, you just want to lie down a little and process.
Not long after your head hits the pillow in the bedroom, there's a knock on the door. It's... odd. You imagined Rayan's shift would last longer? And also, why would he knock on his own front door? Shouldn't he have a key?
There's more knocking, more insistent this time. You're starting to get scared. You pull your blanket over your head and try to block out the sounds.
Knock knock knock.
Knock knock knock.
Bang bang bang.
Crash.
You don't even have the courage to move enough to get under the bed like last time. You're absolutely petrified, frozen in place as footsteps near the bedroom door.
"Is anyone here?" someone asks gently — a stark contrast to the way they've just entered. "It's okay for you to come out. We're here to help."
You're incredibly certain that's false.
Another door opens, and you know it's the bedroom door. You know they can see your outline through the blanket. You know you've made an at best pitiful attempt at hiding. Still, you can't bring yourself to move, or fight back, or even poke your head out.
"Aw, 13... It's you, isn't it?" Someone walks closer and eventually grabs the blanket, but you try to hold on tight. They manage to get a glimpse of your face, though, as the two of you play tug o' war with it. "Of course. Guys, come here, we've got it."
More footsteps. You whine in fear, curling up into the smallest little ball you can manage.
"Don't be scared, sweetheart. It's all gonna be alright, yeah?" Someone finally manages to yank the blanket away from you, while someone else jabs you with a needle. "No more silly escapes. No more pretending. You'll be a good pet for us, won't you?"
The drug works quicker than you can comprehend. "No, no, wait— no, I'm not a pet— this is a mistake—" Your speech feels weak and your words slurred, and all you get in response is a few pitying smiles. You can't resist as two of them put you on a stretcher to carry you out.
You lift your hand towards the blanket that's been taken from you, and a PPA employee notices and drapes it over your treacherous body. "Nice and warm. You've really nothing to fear from us, hm?"
"Rayan... Rayan, where's Rayan...?"
"The guy who took you? Oh, he'll face the consequences of his actions — but you don't have to think about that. You're not in trouble, sweetie. Just rest."
You blink, and everything goes dark.
The next time you wake up, you're in a sterile-looking room. From the feel of it, you're in a comfortable bed, but... As you try to move your arms, they don't move.
Your head still feels fuzzy, but as you look around, you realise you're strapped in, wrists and ankles. Panic can't quite cut its way through the drug-induced haze, but it certainly tries.
"Oh, you're awake," you hear a gentle voice say. You turn your head in the other direction and spot a nurse. "Welcome back, dear. We've all missed you here, you know?"
"I don' wanna be here... 'm not supposed to be here..."
"This is the exact place where you're supposed to be," they say with a warm smile. "I'm sorry about the restraints, but you're officially a flight risk now. They'll come off once you complete your treatment, though, so just hang tight."
"No, no, no..."
"Speaking of, now that you're awake, we can start with that." They stand up and grab a few supplies, but from where you're lying, you can't see what. It all becomes abundtantly clear when they turn around with a syringe in hand. "You won't feel anything, okay? I'm gonna inject it into this tube here, and it'll go straight into your bloodstream. Then you might feel a little drowsy for a while."
"No, please, please, don't make me forget, please—"
"Shh, it's alright, dear. It's all gonna be alright."
~
taglist: @whumpsday @the-scrapegoat @project-xiii @justletmereadmywhump @sariadragon @sowhumpful @books-are-everything @littlespacecastle @captain-bo-bob-bobby @morning-star-whump @a-formless-entity @nyooom @catnykit @whumpinthepot @snakebites-and-ink @expressionless-fr @foresttheblep @honeybees-125 @marcotheflychair @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @idontreallyexistyet @what-if-i-just-did @writereleaserepeat @pokemaniacgemini @chaoticcreaturehideaway @taterswhump @secretheaveninhiding @ghost-whump @sausages-things @rainbowsandwhumperflies @ladyblogofficialreporter @kira-the-whump-enthusiast
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whumpinthepot · 3 days
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Febuwhump Day 20: Immortality
CW: immortal whumpee, dying, blood, stomach wound, gore
The thick stage curtains were drawn, but they couldn’t keep out the noise of the crowd as Bram climbed onto the dim stage. His stomach had been knotted with dread all night. It was one thing to be stabbed or poisoned or even impaled, but an entirely different thing to have a stranger stab his claws right in your heart. It made Bram feel sick, even as he approached his human-but-definitely-not-human partner waiting at the other end of the stage.
Norrix Vangrey. Bram repeated the name in his head.
“Ready for me to kill you?” Norrix said, lazily flexing his clawed fingers.
Bram was used to dying. He was used to being killed. But the words made him shudder.
“I guess so,” he replied, keeping his voice even. Why was he so afraid this time?
The curtains slowly parted, the pulleys creaking audibly. Bram and Norrix took their places. Bram was a knight, fighting a ferocious beast. His costume armor felt uncomfortable and hot as he pretended to attack with his sword. The audience cheered and gasped. A bright light flashed close by—a camera, taking a picture just as Norrix, as the monster, gained the upper hand. Bram lost his balance and fell, his heart pounding. He knew what to expect: Norrix’s claws in his stomach. But the impact stole the breath from his lungs and sent pain shooting through his body.
His vision greyed out. Through the deepening haze, he heard the crowd gasping in horror.
What kind of creature was Norrix Vangrey, anyway…
Bram came back to life in a pool of his own blood. Horror turned to wild exclamations and applause.
Just another day in the life of the immortal Resurrecting Boy.
@whumping-to-conclusions @whumping-out-of-time @forthetaintedsorrow-whump @whumpy-writings @afabulousmrtake @whumpinthepot @silver-ink-iron-words @febuwhump
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whumpinthepot · 3 days
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The Rare Bookseller Part 31: Fitz's Showtime
Masterlist
June 1905
TW: mind control, captivity, hypnotic induction
Fitz wasn't one for making plans, normally trusting in his ability to wing his way through any situation life threw at him. That approach had worked well enough until it had ended up with him imprisoned in a vampires' auction house.
Over the past few days, he'd already suffered what was practically a fate worse than death: being left with nothing to do but stew in his own mind. His treacherous brain had helpfully supplied an exhaustive list of every mistake he'd made along the way to end up here, and all of the ways he could have avoided this fate now that it was too late.
But with his cell neighbors unresponsive -- and he didn't want to think too hard about how that might have come about -- there wasn't anything at all to occupy him apart from meals and sleep. The meals were surprisingly generous and varied, and Fitz supposed that if they really were vampires, they must be fattening him up the way you would a prized pig. Sleep was less generous, as the pitch blackness, complete silence, stiff cot, and vampire guards all conspired to make him uneasy.
So he had plenty of time to think of how he would approach it when Lily came for his mind. Now, he'd ended up in a plush, too-comfortable chair, facing down the vampire who'd captured him.
He wasn't even tied down. He'd been nothing but ingratiating towards the vampires the whole time he'd been here. Lily had made it beyond obvious that he wasn't going to escape through strength or speed, and on his first night, he personally witnessed an angry, cursing, struggling man being dragged away and coming back a hollow shell.
No, that sort of struggle was pointless. He could instead bide his time. Be friendly and charming. Hope that someone would let their guard down or give him a special privilege. He'd have an easier time of it and more opportunities to free himself. At least, that was the theory.
Of course, all of that was for naught if he were actually put deep under whatever mesmeric spell they were using to keep the other captives still and silent.
He knew very well now that Lily was capable of it. He also knew that simply resisting would not do -- little chance they would give up and let him go instead of trying over and over again until he was broken. No, the only thing to do would be to play along, pretend to be under her spell, and hope he could keep the spell from touching him in truth. The longest of long shots, but he didn't have a better idea.
"So I hear you've been on your best behavior," said Lily with a smug smile. "Joking around with the blood grader and everything."
Fitz lounged in the chair as though his existence weren't on the line. "I wouldn't dream of being rude to a man who calls my blood special grade A fancy."
"And here I worried you might be trouble. But it seems you do know your place, better than you think," said Lily. "That's why I have a proposition for you."
"If it's another five dollar bet, I'm going to have to respectfully pass on that."
"Oh, no, nothing like that," she said, amused. "As I told you before, I'd like to sell you to a friend with deep pockets and a soft heart. I think he will appreciate you. The less you resist the conditioning, the more I can allow you to keep that wit of yours. That works out for both of us, doesn't it?"
"Oh, yes, just peachy," he said. She couldn't possibly think he was daft enough to trust her a second time, not when she held all the cards.
"I know you don't believe me, but it's actually a great deal for you. You'd live in a mansion and have an easy life, all in exchange for just a bit of blood." Her words were honeyed, and Fitz could practically feel them worming their way into his mind. "You won't have to be Fitzwilliam de Hastings, disgraceful and useless third son of the de Hastings shipping conglomerate. You won't have to be Phantom Fitz, scraping and clawing for fame with your little magic tricks. You can just be Fitz. Loved. Wanted. Cherished."
If only any of that were true. If only it weren't just a trick to soften his mind and get him to accept a vampiric master, one who would "love" and "cherish" him the same way he might "cherish" a fine bottle of wine.
"As intriguing as all of that is, and as flattered as I am by those lovely descriptions of me, I'm going to have to decline your offer," he said with a tight smile.
Her own smile turned predatory. "You haven't really given me a chance to persuade you."
"I think I've heard --"
"Have you, though? Or have you been half paying attention while focused all on yourself?" she said, leaning in closer. "Here I am, my entire focus centered on you, and you aren't repaying the favor. Why don't you focus, Fitz? Why don't you relax?"
There was no doubt she was exerting her power this time. Fitz could feel the magnetic pull of it. This was it, this was showtime -- the moment he had to somehow convince her that he was being enthralled, without actually falling. He couldn't make it seem too sudden or she wouldn't buy it. What should he do? Should he be visibly affected by what she just did? But he'd hesitated and --
"You think too much," she said. "I'm going to need to stop that first. Slow and soothe your mind, make it so hard to think that you just give in and listen. Look where all your thinking and scheming has gotten you. Won't it feel so much nicer not to do that?"
He nodded, with a bit of hesitation, widening his eyes, playacting that her mesmerism was taking him down once more. Lily was good at luring a mark, but so was he. 
"Yes, isn't that easy?" she said, amused. "Just let my words soothe you so you can listen. It'll feel so good when those racing thoughts slow down. We both know it's inevitable, so why keep searching for an escape that won't come? Why not take the easy and pleasant path?"
"Because, as I told you before, I don't care to be a vampire's convenient lunch box," he said, making sure to slow his voice and lace it with doubt. The more she thought he was falling, the more careless she would be.
"It's so cute to watch your thoughts turn in your head. I can practically see them, dear. I can see that machinery working those threads of thought, weaving them together into plans and fears and witty little comments. I can see all the weaknesses in those gears, all the places where they can easily be slowed. Can you see it?"
"Hm?" he said, caught off guard, not sure how he should respond to that one. Did she suspect what he was up to? Of course she might, she might've mesmerized hundreds of people for all he knew, and he surely wasn't the first to think of pretending.
But that didn't mean she was always successful. Of course she claimed that she was. That was an important part of the confidence game; he would've done the same in her shoes. But for all he knew, her actual success rate was poor. Surely he wouldn't be the first to fool her. After all...
After all, he was...
Fitz blinked, trying to remember the end to that thought.
"...you don't even need to listen as your mind slowly drains of its cares and worries... so relaxed... so comfortable..."
He shook himself in mild alarm. She'd been talking this whole time and he'd zoned out thinking and hadn't kept up his act. He arranged his face into what he hoped was a convincingly dazed expression.
"How are you feeling, Fitz?" she asked.
"...Good," he said, an answer that seemed safe, as he wasn't quite sure how she expected him to feel. 
"Good," she repeated. "Isn't this nice? Having someone's full attention on you without having to fight to earn it? Isn't it nice to be so wanted?"
His brow furrowed. "Well..."
"That's how it's going to be from now on. No more fight for attention, no more fight for approval, no more fight for survival. You'll have your needs taken care of and overflowing praise to boot. Just like you crave, deep down."
Oh, she was good. Good enough to make his chest ache with the thought of what she was offering. If only...
"You're going to be the best thrall, Fitz. I've never seen anyone as delectable, handsome, and charming, with such an intoxicating scent. You'll have your vampire eating out of the palm of your hand -- literally, perhaps."
Fitz blinked slowly, wondering how he should react to keep up the game, trying to ignore the warm sensations he got from the praise, no matter how manipulative and insincere "Do you think that cheap flattery will work on --"
"Look at me," she said, hooking a finger under his chin and gazing straight into his eyes. "You can see it, can't you? A future of being cherished and loved?"
"I --"
"Imagine a vampire who wants you, one who wants so badly to drink deep of your blood that he practically worships the ground you walk on. He'll want you always by his side, his beloved prize, protected and treasured."
It wasn't hard to imagine. It wasn't as if he hadn't thought about things like this on lonely, difficult nights. Something beyond sex and courtship. Intimacy. Comfort.
The kind of things that he hardly dared to think about for long, lest he feel their absence too keenly. The kind of things that were meant for those who had grown up wanted, who knew how to trust and let themselves fall in love. These delights weren't meant for the kind of person who wore a mask wherever he went and conned everyone he met.
"Just relax." She ran her fingers through his hair. "No more pain, no more struggle. No more struggle, now. No more struggle."
If any of this were true, it really wouldn't be so bad.
"No more struggle, no more fighting, no more resisting."
"I'm..." he mumbled. "I'm not..." He had to pretend that he was falling. He let his eyes blink so slowly.
"Oh, my dear, my Fitz, I know you aren't. You're doing such a good job right now."
His eyelids fluttered. "I am?"
"Yes, yes you are. You're doing such a good job. I told you, you're a natural. You're perfect."
He couldn't help but smile. That was good. She believed it was working.
"That's a good boy now. All you really want is approval, isn't it? For someone to see you and decide they're exactly what they need."
"Yeah..."
"You're going to have that, and all the praise and approval you could ever want," she said. "I promise."
He couldn't trust her, he remembered. This was all fake, just like every other time he'd been promised something. But he had to pretend that he believed. He was good at pretending. 
"That's right, you're good at pretending. You're doing such a good job pretending to go under for me, Fitz."
Fitz felt the relief wash over him. Thank goodness for that. He'd been so nervous about this the past few nights, trying to convince himself that he'd be just fine outsmarting a vampire and saving himself. 
Wait --
"It's okay!" Lily laughed. "It's okay, really. I know what you're up to. I expected that from you, of course. And I know what you fear. You fear being made mindless and docile like most of your cell-mates."
Fitz crushed down his panic. His plan wasn't working, his mind already felt hazy and sluggish from Lily's mesmerism, and now his worst nightmare might be about to come true. He'd spent so long escaping from a family where every little word and move was regimented, scrutinized, criticized, judged and punished. At least in those days he could escape into his head. Now, he'd be brought back to that place, with no recourse.
"...Yes, obviously, I fear that," he said, hating how vulnerable he sounded but not knowing what else to say. "Who wouldn't?"
"Who wouldn't?" she echoed. "But it doesn't matter, ultimately, because I've already given you a powerful hypnotic trigger the first time I had you in my thrall, and told you to forget it."
Adrenaline surged through him. "No, there's no way you --"
"Showtime, Fitz."
He only had one more brief moment to panic before his mind shut down entirely.
---
"...two, one, and wake. Come back to the land of the living now, Fitz."
He opened his eyes, feeling like he'd just awoken from a really refreshing nap. It took him a second to realize where he was and what had just happened to him, and all relaxation was immediately wiped out by his fear. Miss Lily had given him a hypnotic trigger, she must have erased his mind, he'd be nothing more than --
Except... he clearly wasn't.
"Confused?"
"You..." He wasn't really sure how to approach this. "You didn't wipe my mind, sir."
"Did you want me to?" she asked with a grin.
"No! Absolutely not, sir," he said. "But you had me -- you knocked me out --" He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to make sense the overwhelming swirl of thoughts in his mind. Grateful that he still had an overwhelming swirl of thoughts in his mind. "What did you do, sir?"
"I made you obedient to vampires. I removed your ability to escape. And I made you crave our feedings. Nothing more, nothing less."
Fitz stared. It couldn't be that simple. Not that he was thrilled about the changes, but he had expected much more and much worse. 
But he didn't feel different. He was still capable of thought. He was still nervous. He could still remember who he was.
"If that's all you were going to do, sir... why did you bother with all of your setup? Why not just mesmerize me the moment I walked in?"
"Because mesmerism is a performance, dear Fitz. I thought that you of all humans would understand that," she said. 
Fitz could feel his eyebrow twitch.
"There's magic involved, of course, or it wouldn't take so strongly, but magic alone doesn't make me so effective at molding perfect thralls. Cold reading, misdirection, distraction -- all of these are critical to what I do. I needed your original plan to fail before I truly conditioned you, and I needed to plant the seeds that a vampire might cherish and accept you. The results speak for themselves, don't you think?"
"I'm not even sure I can tell what the results are, sir."
"Precisely."
Fitz scowled. Was he really that obedient now? Did she actually make him "crave their feedings"? So he would just accept some bloodsucker gently tilting his head to expose his vulnerable neck... a wicked grin as sharp fangs grew closer... his mind growing hazy with pleasure...
"Oh, goddamn it, sir."
Miss Lily laughed. "Now do you see?"
It was a relief, in a way, that he could feel the results of the thrall now. That meant he could get a bead on what she'd done to him. "Yes, I'm afraid I do, sir -- hold on, you also made me call you 'sir', didn't you?"
"Any vampire. Yes. But you're allowed to say it as sarcastically as you want."
"Thank you for that most gracious allowance, sir."
"Oh, you're very welcome."
Part 30.5 >> Masterlist >> Part 32
Extras: Emily's Crayons Fitz in the Snow
Fitz's Volunteer Part One
Thank you for reading about Fitz.
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whumpinthepot · 4 days
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and this is where I keep my cages full of starving twinks watch this they hate it when I do this *starts smacking the cage with a bat loudly*
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whumpinthepot · 4 days
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Febwhump 2024 - Day 4 - Human Shield (Alt Prompt No.1)
more like "Demon Shield"
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whumpinthepot · 4 days
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​i lied. i don't like sex. open heart surgery
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whumpinthepot · 5 days
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The whumper wanted to see what made the whumpee tick- after all, nonhumans were not common, and the whumper was eager to analyze them. The experiments were rigorous and painful, but the whumper did not care- they were too engrossed in everything there was to learn about the whumpee to care. It’s not like the whumper understood the whumpee’s language either, so the begging quickly became white noise.
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whumpinthepot · 5 days
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