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fanfictasia · 5 months

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Whumpcember Day 9

Brainwashing

Spoiler: This is an excerpt from Never Walk Alone

Luke is waiting for him, unsurprisingly, but what catches Vader’s attention instantly are the minor lightning burns he has. “Who harmed you?” Vader demands, stilling.

Sidious wouldn’t have had any reason to hurt Luke. That doesn’t mean Vader would put it past him.

“I felt what was happening to you,” Luke replies. He looks as sick as he feels about it, and the Vader’s dread grows even farther. “It was… affecting me, too. I don’t understand how.”

Their connection is that strong? He didn’t know it was possible for that to happen, even if he can understand in theory how that could happen with such a strong Force bond. With how much Jedi shun attachments, it’s not as if he would ever know if his… bond with Obi-Wan could’ve become anything like this or not.

“You should not have been able to feel that,” Vader supplies finally. He needs to try harder to shield him the next time that happens – because it’ll be again, even if it’s not for a while. Sidious doesn’t electrocute him frequently. It takes a lot for his master to get that upset, like… right now. This is the fifth time Obi-Wan escaped him, to be fair.

“He shouldn’t have been able to do that!” Luke half-yells. “He can’t just hurt you and get away with it!”

“I failed his mission,” Vader replies, “There is now another powerful Jedi in training by Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

“I don’t care what excuse he had!” Luke yells, “That doesn’t give him the right to hurt you.”

Vader just stares at him, awkwardly, because he genuinely has no idea what to say to that. It’s just a fact of life, even if it’s not something Luke understands yet. It has always been a part of Vader’s life, and it was central to it, even when he still went by the name Anakin Skywalker. Nothing, in that regard, has really changed. “It is… expected,” Vader supplies, finally, “Sith do not fail their masters.”

He’s not used to people anymore. Anakin was. Vader is not. He doesn’t even understand Luke’s horror enough to address it. What is he even supposed to say to him about this? There’s not anything he has to offer. It’s who he is. Everyone does it. Obi-Wan did it when he failed. All his master’s have.

“I didn’t know Sith Master meant he was your master,” Luke says finally, a little quieter, though his horror is certainly no less, “I didn’t know it meant you were a slave.”

“I am not,” Vader argues instantly. …He can understand why Luke would think that, though. It does feel like it, far more than he wants to admit or even think about. But that’s never mattered, because he’s always had things of far more importance to worry about than himself.

“Then how could he do that?”

“It is complicated,” he answers. He didn’t want Luke to understand any of this. He wanted… Luke saw him as a hero, which he is not, and it would be unfair to make his child see him as anything other than exactly who and what he is, but he still wishes that illusion didn’t have to be shattered so soon.

“I don’t see how,” Luke scowls, “He’s awful to you for no reason. That’s not how you train me.”

As if he could ever dream of hurting his child. (He could never have hurt Ahsoka on Malachor either.) “That is… different. You are my son.”

“I don’t care if that’s the normal way Sith are trained. That doesn’t make it okay.”

Vader has… no idea what to say to him. He’s used to it, and he would be furious if someone was treating someone in his family that way, but it’s different for him because it always has been. He’s used to it. He doesn’t really… see why Luke is so upset about it.

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #fanfiction #whumpcember #whumpcember 2023 #whumpcember day 9 #whumpcember day nine #day nine #day 9 #darth vader #vader #luke skywalker #luke #vader and luke #vader needs a hug #angst #hurt/comfort #family #brainwashing

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baubeautyandthegeek · 1 year

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No Sacrifice At All

A/N: Written for @whumpcember Day 9. Mazikeen sacrifices her wings to save Linda.

Sacrifice. Demons weren’t supposed to know of such things, but they do. Mazikeen watches Linda, worries, prays then lets her wings free. They are burnt, bruised and broken and Mazikeen’s wings fly open when someone shoots, instinct making her sacrifice herself. She doesn’t die, of course, but her wings break, dragging a raw scream of pain from her. Linda watches as she falls, the gunman is silent, found later burnt by some other golden light, the blinding power of love cooking the man even as Linda moves to settle beside Mazikeen, sending up a quiet prayer that Mazikeen will be okay.

#mazikeen #linda martin #lucifer #whumpcember #whumpcember2022 #whumpcember day 9 #mazinda #mazikeen/linda #linda/mazikeen

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serickswrites · 5 months

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Lather, Rinse, Repeat

Warnings: captivity, torture, manipulation, restraints, brainwashing, wounds, infection, failed rescue

Caretaker lay in the heap that Whumper had left them. They had no energy and they could feel the fever sapping what little strength they had left. The wound in their side still wept, but it had stopped bleeding days ago. They had done everything to find and save Whumpee and it had not been enough.

They hadn't even seen Whumpee. They had crept into Whumper's lair to the place where they thought Whumper kept Whumpee. But they were wrong. The only thing waiting for them was Whumper and pain.

That had been days ago and still they hadn't heard or seen Whumpee. Caretaker tried to not give up hope that Whumpee was still alive. Surely Whumper wouldn't have killed Whumpee. Surely Whumper was saving hurting Whumpee to do in front of Caretaker. Caretaker had to hope because anything otherwise would have meant everything was all for naught. And Caretaker couldn't stand that thought.

The door opened and Caretaker groaned. It was too soon for Whumper to return. They needed more rest. Caretaker opened their mouth and turned toward the door to yell, but froze when they saw who came in, the words dying on their tongue.

Whumpee.

Whumpee strode forward, a tray of something gripped tightly in their hand. "I'm here to cleanse your wound and feed you." Their voice was strangely flat, their gaze blank. No warmth. No terror. No recognition. Just blankness.

"Whumpee, you have to get out of here. Whumper will hurt you! Run." The words tumbled from Caretaker's mouth. They had to save Whumpee. One way or another.

"Whumper helps me. Takes care of me. I am lucky to have Whumper." The words sounded robotic, as though Whumpee was speaking from a script they had memorized.

"What are you saying, Whumpee? Whumper kidnapped you. Hurt you. I....I tried to save you." They put their hand on Whumpee's arm.

Whumpee pulled back. "I don't know you. Whumper helps me. Takes care of me. I am lucky to have Whumper."

"Whumpee, what are you saying? What is wrong? Whumpee, look at me!" Caretaker couldn't believe their ears. Surely Whumpee hadn't said that they were lucky to have Whumper.

"Nothing's wrong with Whumpee, Caretaker," Whumper's nasal drawl came from the doorway, "they are just speaking the truth."

"They speak no such truth. You did this to them!"

Whumper smiled. "Well, they're speaking the version of the truth I want them to believe. Reality doesn't apply here." Whumper put a hand on Whumpee's shoulder. "Whumpee, I want you to ignore anything this stranger says. Clean their wounds and feed them. Nothing more. If they speak to you, leave. Do I make myself clear?"

Whumpee nodded vigorously. "Yes, Whumper. Thank you, Whumper. I am so lucky to have you, Whumper."

Caretaker's heart sunk as Whumpee spoke. What had Whumper done? And how was Caretaker going to save Whumpee?

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99point9percentwhump · 5 months

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Whumpcember 2023 Day 9 - Brainwashing

#whumpcember 2023 #day 9 #brainwashing #drugged #vintage whump #time tunnel

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zanazirafanfic · 3 months

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Summary: "In hindsight, they probably should have known stopping here was a bad idea. Javier was no fool, he knew the opinions people held about foreigners, especially in small backwater burgs. Those were the kinds of places where a man like him might just go missing if the wrong people took exception to his 'dirty' presence in their 'clean' settlement.

Pah! Que absurdo.

Still, he hadn't figured on Van Horn being one of them when he and Lenny dropped in for a quick drink at the saloon - and that mistake would end up costing them dearly."

In which Javier and Lenny just want to relax after a job well done, a group of bigots decide to make it their business, and things escalate quicker than either man was expecting, with frightening consequences.

Whumpcember 2023 Day 9: Alt "Stabbed"

Warnings: None Rating: Teen & Up Audiences Category: M/M Fandom: Red Dead Redemption Relationships: Javier Escuella/Lenny Summers Characters: Javier Escuella, Lenny Summers Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 2,795

@photo1030

#whumpcember 2023 #whumpcember 2023 day 9 #alt prompt #“Stabbed”#fanfiction #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #whump fic #javier escuella #lenny summers #lenny summers whump #javier x lenny #summerscuella #Is that the pairing name? It is now.#hurt/comfort #prompt fic #zanazirawrites

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em-writes-stuff · 5 months

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brainwashing

day nine of @whumpcember

492 words

warnings: n/a

While there’s the more well known type of brainwashing, there’s one I’d like to cover today. I was looking for anything to backup what I’d read from Queen Therama on her husband, but instead found a letter to the leader of the rebellion in Petyod from one of the king’s advisors. It’s extremely likely that I’ll have to hide this report, as the information inside is sensitive, but I’d like to record anyhow.

The writing is scattered and written almost in code, so I’ll try to skip over the more useless stuff and get right to the message. If there are some phrases that don’t make sense, just know that it’s because I don’t have the energy to properly dig into the meanings of them.

Let’s get started.

Yen,

This finds you well, I prey. News of the rebellion is saddening, I hope not much was won in the last battle. The king says that he will squash you under the thumb, making sure to keep in power.

But I found out a way to keep this from happening. I find a witch saying that he can keep the king’s mind clear of anything. He will wipe it clear of everything telling him to kill the spirit of the rebellion.

All he needs for me to do is to get the blood of an elemental magician, the right small finger of a telepathic magician, seven strands of hair from an empathetic magician, and shavings of a twelve-toothed hippo horse’s hoof. Then he will combine them specially and give to me.

I need to sprinkle a few drops on king’s scalp every night to make sure it works. Once the drops are on, I will tell king what I want him to forget, and once the bottle is gone it will be erased from his mind.

Any idea of stopping us will be forgotten and he will have to turn to his trusted healer, who will tell him that maybe the rebellion isn’t so bad. Maybe he’s been doing wrong his entire reign and should step down. Maybe I will plant another idea in his head that he never wanted to be king.

Until I see you next

Ohhh, yeah. This one is going to be hidden. Though the mixture is interesting…I’ve never heard of seven being prevalent in any memory tinctures. Though I’m not as brushed up as I’d like to be on spells or tinctures.

Anyway.

Not much follow up for this one. We all know that Petyod’s last king lost his mind, I’m guessing because someone who had no fucking clue what they were doing was messing with his mind. Maybe not though.

The rebellion took over, captured the king and is now ruled by seven people, each having earned their place.

The report will be locked in Ezran’s room, and the recording in “Petyod history-Pre rebellion-the final king-locked” where only the Librarian will be able to get to it.

#em writes #em writes stuff #my writing #whump #whump fic #whumpcember #whumpcember2023 #original character #google docs was SOOO mad at me for this one lol #anyway. night <2 #brainwashed #brainwashing #day 9

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whumpcember · 6 months

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Welcome back to Whumpcember!

Or if you're new, welcome!

This is the second ever Whumpcember event and I am happy to be running it again! I am so thankful for all the support for last year's Whumpcember and for everyone who filled out the prompt list form! I hope everyone has a wonderful writing Whumpcember, and now, onto the rules!

Prompts should be answered with whump as the main focus

Fanfic! Gif! Text post! Fanart! Fan video! Any piece of media that you can possibly make that has whump counts!

You can use the prompts any time! Don't feel the need to rush

Though, prompts answered during December will most likely be reblogged

Post anywhere! AO3, Wattapad, Tumblr, or even Fanfic.Net! So as long as you make a Tumblr post with a link to the answered prompt it may be reblogged.

When posting onto Tumblr you can either @ the blog or tag with #whumpcember2023 and the day's tag, such as #whumpcember2023 day1

Don't forget to add any warnings necessary, such as NSFW or sexual content

An AO3 Collection will go out on December 1 and close January 1, it's not mandatory, but if you want your works saved in a collection, make sure you get it in on time!

At the end of the month a masterpost will go out to all participants and a badge you can save stating that you are either a participant or completionist. In order to be on the masterpost though, you will have to fill out a google form at the end of month; don't worry it'll take two minutes!

If you have any more questions, send me an ask, but please read the FAQ first!

Written Prompt list below:

-Main Prompts-

Day 1: Fever

Day 2: Sickness

Day 3: Hypothermia

Day 4: Hidden Injury

Day 5: Impaled

Day 6: Nightmares

Day 7: Fainting

Day 8: Isolation

Day 9: Brainwashing

Day 10: Freezing

Day 11: Infection

Day 12: Touch Starved

Day 13: Restraints

Day 14: Cornered

Day 15: Hallucinating

Day 16: Head Injury

Day 17: Fire

Day 18: Chronic Pain

Day 19: Exhaustion

Day 20: Drugged

Day 21: Choking

Day 22: Seizures

Day 23: Nosebleed

Day 24: Bullet

Day 25: Coma

Day 26: Collapse

Day 27: Bleeding Out

Day 28: Abandoned

Day 29: Paralyzed

Day 30: Delirium

Day 31: Homeless

-Alts-

Alt 1. Stabbed

Alt 2. Forced to Watch

Alt 3. Drowning

Alt 4. Ice

Alt 5. Sacrifice

Alt 6. Concussion

Alt 7. Hunger

Alt 8. Tears

Alt 9. Begging

Alt 10. Abused

#whumpcember2023 #whumpcember2023 prompt list #whumpcember #whump #whump prompts #prompts #writing prompts

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how-much-for-a-whump · 5 months

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WHUMPCEMBER day 11:

Prompt: "Infection"

Maria ile Mustafa 7. - 9. Bölüm

@whumpcember

#whumpcember2023 #day 11 #infection #Maria ile Mustafa #Hilmi Cem İntepe #turkish #turkish series #whump #male whump #car accident #head injury #field medicine #cared for #bandages #comfort #face touching #fever #whumpedit

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whumpookies · 5 months

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Whumpcember 2023 day 9: Brainwashing (teşkilat)

#whumpcember2023 #no9 #brainwashed #whump #male whump #turkish #hurt #angst #pain

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suspensefulpen · 4 months

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Whumpcember Day 22: (Alt. 8) Tears + (Alt. 9) Begging

TW: Conditioned Whumpee, Mention of Blood, Comfort Item Taken Away, Restraints

@whumpcember

Inspired by @justbreakonme, happy birthday to her :D

Whumpee flinched when he heard the creaking of the staircase as Whumper descended down them. A wide smirk was on his face. This terrified Whumpee even more.

“Whumpee, you know what today is?”

“Today? Um…no.” He shook his head slowly. He tightly clutched the jacket that hung on his shoulders. It once belonged to Caretaker.

“How about a guess? No punishment.”

Whumpee slightly lit up at those words. He looked around for a moment. What could be so special about today? He looked Whumper up and down to see if it would supply him with a guess. He got nervous when he noted the large, red can at his side.

“Um… A holiday?”

“No. Close. We’ll celebrate it like one though.”

He thought for a moment. “Someone's birthday?”

“Aren’t you a smart cookie!” Whumper cooed. “Now guess who’s birthday it is.”

“…yours?”

“Ah, I wish it was.”

“Um… I don’t know.” Whumpee shrugged.

“It’s Caretaker’s birthday.” His heart sank as Whumper’s smirk widened. “Did you know that?”

“No…”

“Well now you do!” Whumper walked over and unchained Whumpee’s ankle.

“But… But you hate Caretaker.”

“Hate is a strong word.” He said before pulling Whumpee up to stand. “How about we go get some fresh air, yeah?”

“Uh, okay.” He followed Whumper upstairs and outside. Whumpee had to briefly shield his eyes from the brightness. It had been a long while since he’d been upstairs. He noticed the red can was still in Whumper’s hand and began to feel nervous. Was this a trick? Was this going to end badly for him?

“It’s a bit cold out here, don’t you think?” Whumper asked, pulling him from his thoughts.

Whumpee shivered as he nodded. “Yeah. A little.”

“I’m sure you want a jacket. A real one, anyway.”

“But I already have—”

“No you don’t.” Whumper snatched the jacket off Whumpee frame and held it up, inspecting it. He dug his hands through each of the pockets and found a note in one. It had Caretaker’s handwriting on it. He balled it up and stuffed it in his own pocket.

“Um, Whumper? Can I…please have my jacket back? It’s really cold out here.”

“Of course, of course. Wouldn’t want you getting sick, would we?” Whumper smiled as he slid off his own jacket and handed it to Whumpee. Whumpee reluctantly pulled his arms through the jacket. He grimaced as he picked up the smell of cigarettes and cologne. He didn’t like the smell. It didn’t smell safe like Caretaker’s jacket did. Granted, his did have some blood stains on it while Whumper’s was probably freshly washed, he still liked Caretaker’s better. He watched quietly as Whumper tossed the jacket on a huge pile of leaves. Panic instantly plagued his mind.

“Whumper… what are you doing?”

He smiled as he began unscrewing the cap on the red can. “We’re celebrating.” Once he got it off, he tossed it to Whumpee, catching him off guard. “Hold that.” He began pouring the contents of the can onto the leaves and jacket. The smell coming from the liquid caused Whumpee’s panic to heighten.

Whumper walked over, his smile turning into a crooked grin as he took the cap and screwed it back onto the can. “Now as much as I love hearing you scream, you should take a few steps back.” He pulled Whumpee away from the pile, giving him no room to protest. He reached in his pocket and took out a box of matches. He struck one and tossed it onto the jacket and flames instantly rose in front of them. Whumper stepped up to Whumpee, the grin still on his face. “All warm now Whumpee?” He laughed before reaching in the jacket pocket and pulling out a pack of cigarettes. He reached in a different pocket for a lighter.

“Whumper, please stop this. I don’t want to celebrate anymore.” Whumpee said as tears filled his eyes.

“Oh but Darling,” Whumper paused to light the cigarette. “we’ve just begun.” He smiled, pulling the cigarette from between his lips.

“I don’t want to anymore. I wanna go back inside.” Whumpee shook his head, his tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Aw, are you scared I’m gonna let the fire hurt you? Don’t worry, Love. I won’t.” Whumper pulled him into an embrace, stroking his hair as he began sobbing. That was the very last memory they had of Caretaker before his death. Now it was up in flames as a “celebration” of his birthday. “We didn’t need him in our way anyway. He was only an obstacle in our path.” Whumper spoke as if he was calming Whumpee down in any way. He only continued to sob as Whumper puffed clouds of smoke above his head.

“I think we ought to get a picture of this. For the memory.” He hummed. “What do you say?”

“No.” Whumpee shook his head. “No, please. I don’t want to—”

“Shall we visit Caretaker’s grave while we’re at it?”

“No! Please—”

“Did I just hear a no come out of your mouth, Whumpee?” Whumper held a hand up to his ear. “Are you protesting?”

“No sir. Please! I—”

“What’s the begging for Whumpee? I’m pretty sure I didn’t give you permission to beg for anything.”

“I… I don’t want to celebrate anymore. I wanna go back inside, sir.”

“Well that’s too bad. It’s not gonna happen. Now come on, let’s take a picture so we both remember this day. It would’ve been Caretaker’s twenty-seventh birthday. Such a shame he didn’t get to live to see thirty. All because of you.”

#whumpcember2023 #whumpcember #whump #whump writing #angst #conditioned whumpee #comfort item #chains #character death #mentioned character death #birthday #suspense #guilt #creative writing #writeblr #writer things #writers on tumblr #I rewrote this way too many times for my liking

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fanfictasia · 1 year

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Whumpcember Day 9

Sacrifice

Spoiler: This is an excerpt from Kinslay

She can acutely smell the smoke around her, the red lightsaber burning in her hand as she moves through the smoke. The mission is over, her and her master need to leave, except they spot a few of the stormtroopers still alive and injured on the ground, one of them inching towards their dropped comm.

“Finish them,” Reva orders, “We can have no witnesses.”

Leia wants to stop – to scream, to something but all she can do is numbly carry out her orders, cutting them down.

Leia jolts awake, breathing hard. She remembers that too well. It wasn’t long ago, and it had been the first time she’d… ever done that when they weren’t in a fight.

The first time – well, not really – she did something she knows she can never stop hating herself for. Maybe they couldn’t let them go, but they didn’t have to kill them. She has no idea how she’s fallen this far.

And she wonders, for a desperate agonizing moment, if this is how Vader feels too. If he ever has this feeling of – wishing he could cut this out of him whatever this even is, but he can’t, so all he can do is go with it. Because she knows if she’d gone any further than this and started killing people she had no reason to, she doesn’t know how she could stop. Not after sacrificing so much.

And it makes her glad again that – that she took up Vader’s offer. She has to tell her parents something, but it’s an excuse why she can’t be on Alderaan right now. It hardly stops the guilt that’s eating her up, though.

Through the Force, Vader suddenly nudges her, almost questioningly.

She reaches back instantly, desperately almost. She doesn’t want to stay in her dark bedroom right now. She doesn’t want to be alone, and all she can remember is when she used to crawl into her parents’ bed back on Alderaan when she was young and needed comfort. They aren’t here now, but… Vader is.

And they fit far better, she drinks morbidly.

They’re both monsters.

Leia sits up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and glancing at the closed blinds on the window – a faint glow of the lava filtering in. It’s… an interesting place to live. Hardly pleasant but she thinks it suits her.

Whenever Vader focuses on her, it’s as though a blackhole that’s somehow as bright as a star is sucking her in and that’s how it feels now. She thinks it’s enough of a reassurance that she can come talk to him if she wants to.

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rainydaywhump · 4 months

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Reed pt 8 - Forced to Watch (Whumpcember Day 16, Alt 2)

<- Pt. 7 - Pt. 9 ->

Cervine finds that Reed has been captured again, and she's feeling guilt. Aaaaand murder.

In other words: Cervine remembers being made to wait to rescue Reed until the cover of night, during which she had to watch what the enemy soldiers were doing to him.

CWs: male whumpee, degradation, dehumanization, creepy whumpers, multiple whumpers, caretaker fucking kills them, please not that irl medieval-ish combat was not nearly this easy unless you were really good at it, which I've decided Cervine is. Blood, some gore that isn't described much, restraints on whumpee.

I lost him.

I left him alone and defenseless.

I may as well have tossed him over enemy lines myself.

Cervine stared at the hoofprints leading away from their campsite, lips pursed and eyes smarting with anger. She had left for a last-minute forage for some more medicinal plants, and she'd left Reed on his own. After being held captive for two weeks and then being under her constant care and company for nearly another week, she figured he'd want some alone time before the journey home. Seeing as they were in no man's land, she'd thought that no one would stumble across him in the two hours that she was gone.

The shirt he'd been altering was cast aside, needle and thread still nearby. A little more searching and she found his dagger lying in the grass. But none of the items in their shelter had been taken or moved -- meaning whoever had taken him either didn't think to look or didn't even realize that they were there.

Evidently, she'd been wrong. Reed was incredibly strong considering he'd held out against his interrogators. He had been a capable agent before his time in captivity, and he would certainly become one once again, once he was fully recovered. But he wasn't fully recovered yet, and though he was highly intelligent, brave, and strong-willed, those traits wouldn't have been enough against brute strength.

Which meant Reed hadn't told anyone about her.

Which meant she stood a better chance of finding him again.

I lost him. I did this to him.

He suffered so much and he was just starting to heal a little mentally, and I betrayed him.

If he had told his attackers about me, I would've deserved it. I would deserve to be in his place. This was my mistake, not his.

The Laarylni agent knew that she had made another mistake in her mission to rescue the missing allied spy, and that was getting attached to him. She'd actually let herself care about him, not just for him. And she didn't try to resist that anymore, either. Cervine had been on rescue missions before, and she'd always been able to be calm and compartmentalized about it, but this...this was different.

A cold chill ran through her as she considered another aspect of her failure: she had never properly hidden the bodies of Reed's previous captors, the band of semi-autonomous Halyen warriors who had kidnapped him and tortured him relentlessly for two weeks. To be fair, she reasoned, she hadn't had time -- Reed was in desperate need of urgent medical attention, and that took priority. But Cervine had to admit that a large part of her carelessness came from pure emotion.

She closed her eyes and slipped into a memory of the day and night that followed her search for the missing spy.

...

The soldiers were awake and mostly sober when she settled into her hiding spot.

On a slight rise on the knoll, hidden by rocks and scraggly bushes, Cervine hunkered down under the protection of her cloak -- mottled with the colors of the landscape and breaking up her silhouette -- and forced herself to take deep breaths while otherwise staying as still as possible. She needed to make sure that she was calm despite what she was seeing, and she needed to stay perfectly still so as not to attract any attention. As darkness fell, motion would be all the more visible to the soldiers.

She wanted to jump right in and grab Reed, but she had come all this way and she wasn't going to risk mission failure just because she was being forced to watch the torture they put him through.

She watched them pull his hair and tie a thick collar around him, then tighten it until he passed out -- and then they slapped him awake or carved slits into his skin until he came to from the pain. They tied a chain leash to the collar and bound him in a kneeling position by their feet as they ate and he starved. They beat him, and then they patted his head and stroked his thighs and chest after in a sickening show of possession and dehumanization.

She watched as one of the soldiers eyed him up all afternoon and then advanced when the sun fell, rope and knife in hand. Reed, who had been reduced to a limp, bloodied, bruised body at this point, flinched at the sight of him -- and though Reed was too weak and likely too starved to retaliate at all, the soldier took sickening pleasure in calling over his comrades to hold Reed down and twist him into a painful hogtie, gagging him even more for the night.

I'm sorry, she thought, wishing there was some way he could hear her. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm not saving you now. I can't risk them hurting you or threatening to kill you if we reach a stalemate. I need you out of the way, safe.

Throughout all of this, Reed didn't crack -- and, more strangely, the soldiers only demanded information from him a few times. The rest of their abuse was merely for fun. To Cervine's horror, two of them (including their apparent leader) could even be heard talking about just taking him as a plaything instead of giving him up to more effective interrogators.

When the Harp constellation was high and the insects stopped buzzing for a moment, Cervine made her move.

The soldier on watch duty was first. Reed had made some sort of noise -- a whimper, she thought -- and the guard had made a derisive remark. Cervine shadowed spider-like through the tall grasses until she was poised, crouched on the balls of her feet, just behind the soldier.

She felled him with a simple and silent blow to the neck, nearly severing his vead and stifling his chokes with his own tunic. He may have made a small noise as she stepped over him, but he was far enough from the others that no one heard.

Eleven to go.

With a rush of addictive adrenaline, Cervine advanced and managed to stab two more through the heart before the others woke. They were up in a fury, shouting to each other and grabbing their weapons --

-- and Cervine let them.

She didn't want to kill sitting ducks. She wanted to show them that they deserved their deaths.

"Who the fuck are you?!" One soldier shouted, but Cervine didn't answer. They didn't need to know.

After that, the only sounds she heard were those that were relevant to the fight. Quick as a hawk, Cervine ran one enemy through and pivoted to parry the next, then slice the soldier from her collarbone to her armpit. More came and Cervine dodged, nimbly avoiding killing blows and turning to face them from a new angle, then another, and then another at which point the soldiers were disoriented in the dark and Cervine launched herself at them with cold, vicious pleasure.

Disarm, stun, stab to the torso, slash to the guts. Fresh blood and sickly sweat permeated her nose. Cervine breathed it all in. Parry, dodge, jump, forward, slash -- Cervine tumbled under two soldiers and cut them both down at the knees, their screams going unheard.

A killing blow to one, two, three. Two more left to kill and one actively dying. By now the two left were running away, but Cervine caught up easily. She took down one and slowed as she advanced on the last, who had fallen and was now scrambling backwards on the ground, pleading. He'd dropped his axe in panic; Cervine picked it up.

Her ears tuned in. "Why are you doing this? Just take us prisoner, we haven't done anything!"

She blinked slowly and jerked her chin over to where Reed lay.

The soldier's eyes widened even more, if possible. "Him?! He's a failed messenger! He's a worthless piece of meat! Why are you --"

"The custom in your army," Cervine cut in. "It is a disgrace to die without weapon in hand, yes?"

The enemy slumped back, staring at her with something that resembled acceptance.

"You are...an honorable enemy," he whispered gratefully.

Cervine made sure he saw her toss the axe aside before she killed him.

...

The rest of the night's sound finally returned to her conscious brain, and Cervine checked to make sure that each of Reed's torturers was well and truly dead. The whole fight had taken nearly thirty minutes. When she wrote up an official report, she knew, it would sound as if it was easy -- but she was panting, bloodstained, and nearly completely exhausted.

None of that mattered compared to Reed, though.

Cervine rushed over to where he lay. Turning him over to cut his restraints, she found that he was out cold -- whether out of pain, exhaustion, injury, or a mix, she didn't know. She checked his pulse and did a quick scan of his bare body for any urgent wounds. Finding none of the latter, Cervine sat back with his head in her lap for just a moment to catch her breath.

The adrenaline and anger were quickly wearing off, and the agent had to fight off a wave of despair at Reed's state.

"Come on," she whispered to him, although there was no way he could hear her. Cervine gently lifted the unconscious young man into something vaguely resembling a bridal carry and wrapped his ragged blanket over him, shielding his back from the cold and pressing his chest against hers.

"Let's get you home, Reed."

...

Standing alone in front of Reed's discarded shirt, Cervine forced herself to calm down. She needed to be calm if she wanted to find him again, after all.

She wondered if his new captor knew about the twelve murdered soldiers. If his new captor had told him, Reed would know that it was she who did it.

Cervine didn't regret it for their sake, but she felt a quiet sadness when she thought of Reed's potential reaction upon learning how easily she'd done it.

@whumpcember @i-eat-worlds @pigeonwhumps

#whump #whump writing #whumpee #whump prompt #whumpcember #whumpcember2023 #whump caretaker #whumpcember2023day16 #i am so goddamn tired

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serickswrites · 1 year

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Die For You

Warnings: captivity, threat of torture, cruel whumper

Team Leader was not going to allow this to continue. They couldn’t. They had been the ones to get their team into this. And they were going to get their team out, one way or another.

“Team Leader,” Teammate Three said softly. They weren’t trying to draw Whumper’s attention from the corner.

Whumper had come in, moments before, dark smile on their face. They had explained how they planned to torture each and every member of the team to death. Saving Team Leader for last. And with that, they had marched over to the wall of instruments of torture as they muttered to themself.

Teammate Three tried to catch Team Leader’s eye again, but Team Leader ignored them. They had to make a plan. Teammate Two put their hand on Team Leader’s shoulder. “It’s not your fault, Team Leader.”

“It is,” Team Leader hissed as they shrugged off Teammate Two’s hand. They avoided Teammate One’s gaze as they stepped forward. “I would die for any of you. But I don’t expect you to die for me. Remember that.”

Before any of the teammates could respond, Team Leader strode over to Whumper. To offer themself in the place of their team. To get their team out of here. One way or another.

#serickswrites #whump #whumpblr #whump writing #whump community #tw captivity #tw threat of torture #cruel whumper #whumpcember 2022 #day 9 #alt prompt 10: I would die for you #queue

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i-eat-worlds · 5 months

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Whumpcember Day 9 (Alt. 8, Tears)

@whumpcember

Phoenix and Aaron belong to @pigeonwhumps

cw: graphic depictions of injuries, medical procedures, blood, ongoing abuse, medical neglect, caretaking, fear of punishment, hospital setting

Phoenix was a mess.

Aaron had warned him about it before he went in, as well as apologizing for not being able to help more. Apparently, they’d been injured along with Abbie during a mission. Abbie’s injuries, however, were more severe. He’d have to heal her, which means he couldn’t take care of them. Halving a stranger treat them wouldn’t make things better.

Oh, and they’d put Phoenix in the room directly next to hers. That wasn’t helping either.

Joseph hadn’t been exactly expecting good things when he entered the room, but it was still much worse than he’d anticipated.

Phoenix wasn’t even on the exam table. Instead they were curled up in the far corner of the room, knees protecting their belly and arms raised to cover their head. Their camouflage was shorting out, covering their skin with bright flashes of color and odd shapes. Broken sobs occasionally escaped from the pile of limbs, but they were immediately cut off. The poor kid was trying to keep as quiet as possible. And the cherry on top? The blood from the injury on their thigh, which soaked their uniform and was smeared on the floor from them dragging themselves to the corner.

He grabbed a pair of gloves from the wall and started pulling them on while he crouched down in front of them. “Hey, Phoenix, I’m Joseph, I’m here to help you, alright?”

They didn’t seem to register the words at all. “Please, please, I’m sorry,” they blabbered. “Don’t tell Abbie, please, don’t let her know, I’m sorry, I promise, sir. Please.”

“I won’t tell her,” he said, keeping his tone relaxed. “I just wanna help you.”

“If she…If she sees me like this, she’ll…she’ll-” Their words were cut off by several panicked gasps. “Please…’m sorry.” They broke down into hiccuping sobs.

“I believe that you’re sorry, and I’m not going to…punish…you.” God, that felt wrong to say. “Aaron asked me to come help you. He’s worried about the injury on your leg.”

More fear filled their face at the mention of their injury. “I’m sorry, please, sir. I know it’s an inconvenience. I’m sorry for wasting your time. I can handle it on my own,” they sniffled, eyes brimming with tears. “Please. I know my place. I won’t waste. I won't. Please.”

Joseph kept silent for a second, trying to formulate a response. Their wound was still bleeding, and pretty badly at that. He needed to get them somewhere better than the floor. “I know it’s scary, but can you trust me, just for a little bit? I’m not going to hurt you.”

They waited for a second, then nodded tearfully, breaths still shaky. “Yes, sir.”

“Alright, I’m gonna have to touch you for this. Is that okay?”

Phoenix nodded again, lowering their arms. “Yes, sir,” they repeated.

“I know you can’t really stand right now, so I’m going to help get over to the exam table. That cool?” He smiled, placing a hand on their knee.

“Yes, sir.” They started to unfurl a little bit.

“So, first, I’m gonna put my arms around you, and then lift you up. You can use your good leg to help. It’s completely okay if you need to lean on me for support while I help you onto the exam table.”

He started to extend his arms towards them, moving slowly so that they wouldn’t get scared. Carefully, he snaked them behind Phoenix’s body and under their arms. “Can you put your arms on my shoulders?” They complied, far too quickly for comfort. “I’m gonna lift now. Just as a warning, it might hurt.”

It was worryingly easy to hoist them off the ground. Just as he expected, they immediately collapsed into his chest, leg unable to support their own weight. “‘m sorry,” they whimpered.

“You’re alright,” he comforted, using his arms to support them. “I’m going to get you up on the table now.” He lowered his arms so he could lift them onto the table.

Phoenix sniffled when he set them down, legs dangling. “Can you lay down for me?” Joseph asked. “You’re doing great.”

Even though they still looked absolutely terrified, they did look a little less uncomfortable now that they were laying down. “Thank…Thank you, sir,”

“You’re welcome.” The process of moving them had left blood smears all over his scrubs, and there were several spots on his arms as well. “I’m gonna look at your wound now, okay?”

This sent them spiraling again. “You…you don’t need to do that. It’ll heal. I don’t wanna be a waste. If she…if she found out-” their eyes wandered over to the wall that separated the room. She was right next door, and they knew it. “-it’d be bad. I’ll heal, sir. I promise I’ll heal.”

Joseph took a moment to collect himself. Who even does this to a person? “It’s not a waste to treat you, Phoenix. You deserve medical care just as much as any other hero, but I’m not going to do anything you don’t want me to.”

They looked at him with disbelieving eyes. “Please don't tell her.”

“I won’t kid, I promise.” He started to unfold his trauma shears. “I do need to look at it though. I’ll do my best to be quick.”

“Yes, sir,” they said, arms wrapped protectively around their core.

While he maneuvered the scissors, he did his best to keep them out of Phoenix’s sight. Their uniform was unnervingly easy to cut away. They hadn’t switched to the stab resistant fabric set. He’d need to talk to Aaron to make that change for this one’s replacement. With the amount of injuries they seemed to sustain, the switch should've been made ages ago.

The already torn fabric came away easily, revealing the wounds’s jagged, blood caked edges, along with a plethora of scars. There were burns as well as cuts, and some of them were handprint shaped. His stomach turned. Several of the scars were faded and old. They would’ve had to have happened when Phoenix was young. Who the fuck does this to anyone, much less a kid?

“That has to hurt,” he said as he examined the wound. They were already healing, the wound bed a healthy healing color. “I’ll get you hooked up to some pain meds and then I’ll clean it and bandage it, okay?” He quickly gathered the supplies needed for cannulation.

If he was being honest, he would’ve preferred to have another person in here, but Phoenix was barely tolerating his presence and he doubted they would be able to handle a second person. “Can I have your arm?”

Hesitantly, they moved it from its position around their belly and rested it at on the table. “I’m gonna put a line in. It’ll hurt a little bit, but it’ll be quick.”

The procedure went easily, and after he’d wrapped bandages around it to secure it, he prepared a syringe to push some pain control. “I’m gonna give you something to help with the pain.”

Phoenix started shaking their head again. “You don’t need to do that, sir. I don’t wanna waste. You can save them for heroes that need them. I'll..I’ll be okay.”

“It’s not a waste. We have plenty of meds, and we’re nowhere near close to running out. I don’t want you to be in pain when I treat you.” They tried to wrap their arm back over their body, wincing when the end of the cannula caught in their elbow. “O…okay,” Their face was tired, and it looked like they’d lost the energy to disagree with him.

Just as Joseph was about to push the meds, an outraged shriek came from the room over. “How dare you! Don’t you know who I am?” It was Abbie.

Phoenix immediately froze, numbly pushing the syringe away from their arm pulling their legs in close, balling up on the exam table. “‘m sorry,” they mumbled, only half present. “I wasn’t, I wasn’t gonna take them.” They hiccuped, tears rolling down their cheeks again. “I know…I know my place. I promise. Please. I’m sorry.”

“You’re okay, Phoenix. Abbie isn't here. She’s not going to hurt you.” Internally, Joseph cursued. That was it. They need to go somewhere else if Phoenix was ever going to calm down enough. “Phoenix, can you look at me?”

Their eyes flicked up, still wet from crying. “Yes, sir?”

“Would you feel better if we went somewhere else? I can ask Tori, the charge nurse about it.” Joseph didn’t care if he ended up doing this in a little tiny consulting room, as long as it was away from Abbie.

“You..you don’t need to do that.” They still looked absolutely terried. “I’m sorry for making a scene, sir.”

Joseph pushed his anger down. “It wouldn’t be too hard, and I don’t mind at all. I want to make sure you feel safe so that I can help, yeah? I want to help.”

“I’m sorry,” they said, slowly unfurling themselves. “Can I stay, please? It hurts to move.”

“Alright,” Joseph nodded. There were some battles that he wouldn’t fight unless he had to, and this was one of them. He’d bring it up again if they started panicking again. “I’m gonna go ahead and give you the pain meds so I can start working on your leg, yeah?”

They nodded their consent, and he pushed the drugs. “Tell me if it starts to hurt again.”

After he tossed the syringe, he was finally able to turn his attention back to their injury. They whimpered and wined as he lightly touched the wound. It wasn’t warm, and it didn't look inflamed, which was a good sign. “I’m gonna ush it out real quick, and then I’ll put a bandage over it to keep it clean.” He turned away to grab several things from one of the drawers.

Phoenix’s expression was a mixture of fear and confusion, but they nodded anyway. “If…um...can..I…can I ask why you’re…doing this?” They were barely even whispering, volume practically nonexistent.

Joseph looked up, surprised the Phoenix had dared to ask. “Because I don’t like seeing others in pain,” he answered truthfully.

“Oh…umm..thank you,” they said softly.

He smiled at them. “Always, kid, always.”

Taglist: @/pigeonwhumps @rainydaywhump

#worlds babbles #whump #medical whump #injury whump #abuse cw #blood #fear of punishment #caretaking #joseph oc #Phoenix not my oc #this got long whoops

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zanazirafanfic · 3 months

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WIP Whenever

Here are the WIPs I've got on tap for the next week!

Everything is listed by planned date of publication. :)

2/7/24 - "Ruffling A Few Feathers" - Arthur has fun teasing Catboy!Micah using a treasure found during his travels. But as with everything in his life, there are unintended consequences.

2/8/24 - 25DCC, Ch.11 - "Tucking Them In" - 1910. Kieran comes home to Mary-Beth and their children after a long journey.

2/9/24 - Whumpcember Day 12 - "Touch-Starved" - Karen Jones grieves Sean's passing once the dust finally settles after the Braithwaite raid. H/C feat. Arthur Morgan.

2/12/24 - 25DCC, Ch. 12 - "Getting Anxious for Christmas" - 1910. John and Abigail receive a letter from Dutch and Hosea, and John makes a trip to Lone Wolf Stead to share it with his brothers. Once there he finds Arthur sick and being a terrible patient, and steps in to help before Charles finally decides to murder his husband.

2/13/24 - Whumpcember Day 13 - "Restraints" + Alt "Collapse" - The boys free Sean from Ike Skelding's band of bounty hunters. Unfortunately, he's in a little rougher shape than they thought.

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kittykatkatelol · 5 months

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"I want to show them what beautiful creatures I create" OC Oneshot

Prompt by @whumpcember - prompt: brainwashing - day 9

CW: Mild abuse, murder

They were curled up in Whumper's lap - content to be in their master's lap, content that master was content. Whumper could have sworn they heard Whumpee purr when they ran their hand through Whumpee's hair.

"Whumpee, I've been thinking," Whumpee looked up at their master, a mixture of excitement and fear filling their very soul - that always seemed to happen when Whumper spoke to them, regardless of harshness or kindness alike. "I think it's time they found you."

Whumpee looked appalled at what their master had just said - had they been bad? Have they not lived up to their master's expectations and wants? "Master..? No, master, whatever it is I did I am so sorry-"

"No no, pet, this isn't about you misbehaving - quite the contrary, you've been quite good. Which is exactly why I think it is time to show off my creation - my pet. See how much you can act like me while we are apart." Whumper paused, seeing the look in Whumpee's eyes. "Not to worry, pet. I'll be right with you, always. Right, in, here." Whumper pressed their finger against Whumpee's forehead.

Whumpee didn't understand - but they would, soon.

"But master-"

Whumper slapped them hard across their face, earning a weak whimper and an apology. "No more 'but's! You will do as I say, understand me?"

Whumpee nodded, and Whumper relaxed back into the chair they were sitting on.

"I want you to show them what beautiful little creatures I create."

. . .

Caretaker found Whumpee two days later after searching for so long.

Whumpee did not go willingly. They fought Caretaker - nearly enjoying the pain and annoyance that they caused Caretaker - they deserved it, didn't they? For trying to take them away from Whunper? How their eyes widened in horror when they realized Whumpee might be too far gone now. That Whumper had brainwashed them so well into believing Whumper was the good guy, that Whumpee had become what hurt them to stay with them. What was once a scared and broken person, was now a mini Whumper - determined to stay with their abuser. A seemingly lost cause now.

Whumpee killed Caretaker in cold blood. Watching in a mix of amusement and fear - fear of what they had done, what they were capable of, but amusement because of how easy it was to take someone's life, to see the light leave their eyes and hear their muffled pleas for mercy. Master would be proud.

Whumper couldn't have been more proud.

[Word count: 416]

#whumpcember2023 #whumpcemberday9 #whump #whump writing #microfic #brainwashed whumpee #cw mild abuse #cw murder

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