#abused whumpee

[jordanstrophe]

Caretaker watched the stranger deep asleep on their couch. They had no idea where whumpee came from, only they were on the side of the road in that awful storm. The power was out and they had no way to call for help.

They had wounds that weren't from the storm. They were man made and varied with different tools. It was nothing like caretaker had ever seen before...

Caretaker turned their back to light a candle when they heard a quiet thump behind them. They turned around to find whumpee off the couch against the wall trying to make their way to the door.

"Woah woah woah! You're in no condition to be up like that." Caretaker scolded. Whumpee stopped in their tracks, realizing they weren't alone. They shakily turned around with a wide-frightened gaze. Their knees slowly gave in as they sunk to the floor and stayed frozen.

Caretaker dropped to a crouch, feeling odd standing so tall over them. "I know you're hurt, so let's go back on the couch and see what we can do, okay?"

Whumpee tilted their head towards the door, listening to the crash of lightning and a downpour of rain. "How did you find me?" Whumpee spoke in a whisper.

"Luck." Caretaker shrugged, scooting an inch closer. "Did someone hurt you? Are you in some sort of trouble?" Caretaker asked.

"No." Whumpee spoke shortly. Caretaker knew that was a lie; but if that's what whumpee wanted caretaker to think to be comfortable enough to let them help, then so be it. 

[ashintheairlikesnow]

She Wasn't Sure She Believed Herself

Bleeding in Moonlight: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four |

CW: Werewolf whumpee, escaped whumpee with caretakers, referenced abuse, dehumanization by captors, and captivity

-

Anaya swayed lightly as she made her way up the steps. The front door to Vanessa’s house was painted the same deep shade of blue as the underside of the porch ceiling.

Between that and the fact that the porch was painted a flat and blinding white, Anaya felt a little like she was standing upside down in the ocean, a wave breaking beneath her and the depths of the ocean over her head. 

It was deeply disorienting.

Then again, maybe that was the sleep deprivation talking.

Every other house on the block was the same basic set of shades - gray house with black shutters, white house with gray shutters, pale yellow house with black shutters, another gray, a different white, light brown that was nearly beige, actual beige… Vanessa’s house, with all its dancing blues, had stood out like a beacon as soon as they turned onto the street. 

Eden was right behind her, one arm supporting Misae and his own eyes moving over the porch swing that moved gently in the wind. A small black cat sat on the swing, watching them with intense curiosity. Its tail flicked as it took in the sight of Misae. They’d managed to find an old hoodie of Eden’s and some of Anaya’s sweatpants for Misae to wear, and the boy looked absolutely swamped in the hoodie, hood pulled up to cover his face as much as he could and sleeves long enough to completely hide his hands. They couldn’t help his lack of shoes, but Anaya had managed to get some white socks on him and had decided to just hope for the best. He could limp, with support, and Eden had kept an arm around him, taking most of his weight as he slowly struggled up the steps. 

The boy’s face was white with pain, and his eyes kept dancing wildly trying to take in everything at once, but he stayed upright and he didn’t pass out again, so… Anaya called it a win.

“Why don’t you knock?” Anaya asked, nervously picking at her fingernails with her other hand, trying to calm her nerves. “You’re better at talking to people.”

“First off, that’s a gigantic lie. Secondly, she isn’t my friend,” Eden answered easily. This wasn’t the first time they’d had some version of a conversation like this one. She had the distinct sense that if he could, he would have shrugged. As it was, he was holding nearly all of Misae’s weight by now. “She’s your friend. You should knock.”

“I mean, I may have… I may have exaggerated how well I know her, a little bit?” Anaya found a bit of skin sticking out near her cuticle on her thumb and absently picked at it, staring down. “We just talk on the internet. I don’t even know exactly how old she is. I’ve never seen her face, and now I’m showing up with my boyfriend and a werewolf.”

“Hey. Look at me, baby.” She raised her eyes and found Eden smiling at her, weary but warm. She couldn’t help but smile back. “You’ve got a good sense for people, you always have. And you said she agreed to let us crash, right?”

“Yeah, she did. She said no problem, just…” Anaya looked over at Misae. “I might have not mentioned… him.”

The boy was staring at the cat now. The cat met his gaze with slitted pupils, ears slightly back, fur slightly raised. There was a flash of what might have been sharp teeth, the subtle whisper of a warning hiss.

Misae’s lips pulled back from his own teeth in tandem. 

Anaya stared with wide eyes as she realized his canine teeth were longer than they should be. When she looked down at his hands, she saw fingernails that stretched even as she looked at them, hardening into obvious claws even as his fingers started to thicken and turn blunt.

Was he... growing paws?

The cat turned and leaped gracefully up onto the railing and then down to the ground on the other side, disappearing in a flash around the side of the house. 

Anaya's eyes jumped back to Misae's face.

His lips were closed, and his hands had gone back to normal. Maybe she was imagining it?

“Maybe,” Eden suggested, tone irritatingly mild, “Maybe we all just stay calm and don’t bring the werewolf thing right off the bat.”

"... but did you just see-"

"Mmhmm. I know what I think I saw, anyway."

"You cannot possibly still not believe-"

“I didn’t say that I don’t believe it. Just, let’s not like fling that info around willy-nilly, Naya, yeah? And you, Misae, keep a hold on those teeth. We'll keep the wolf thing to ourselves for at least a little while. Besides, I flat out cannot drive anymore until we get some sleep. So…” Eden shifted a little and then gestured at the door. “Knock.”

Anaya took a deep breath, and turned around, stepping up to the door. Beneath her feet, a pale doormat read Welcome, witches and there was a sign hanging right at Anaya’s eye level: Live laugh lobotomize.

Right.

This was Vanessa. She had nothing to worry about.

Not that having nothing to worry about had ever once stopped Anaya from worrying. Camping had always been the only time she ever felt totally calm, and even that was a little ruined now. How many secret homes with hidden people kept like animals were there in the world, and she just didn't know about them?

The thought kept spinning circles when she tried not to think at all.

The door swung open just as Anaya's knuckles touched the door and she jerked her hand back in surprise. Behind her, Misae straightened a little, leaning against Eden while trying to look like he wasn’t hurt. His eyes kept shifting, as if he was trying to look everywhere all at once. 

God, they looked like such a mess. 

The wooden sign clacked as it swung forward and back, and Anaya’s first impression was of a pair of sparkling brown eyes. “I thought I heard voices,” Vanessa smiled. She was a tall, broad woman with a deep, melodic voice, totally unlike Anaya’s mental image of her. Her eyes matched her ponytail and she looked very much like every high school art teacher Anaya had ever imagined. Right down to the paint-splattered tunic and leggings. 

She took in the three of them in a moment, and then her smile widened and she stepped back and to the side. “Well, you’re clearly Anaya,” She continued. “It’s nice to see you in person for the first time. So, if you’re Anaya, then this must be the hottie boyfriend… Evan?”

“Eden,” Anaya corrected absently, still trying to connect this warm and soft woman standing before her with the acerbic, dryly sarcastic online voice she’d been chatting with for years. 

“Oh, right. Sorry, Eden.”

“That’s okay.” Eden shrugged, a shy smile playing around his lips, flushed a little still from hearing hottie probably. He was always weak to compliments. “Evan actually was on my shortlist for names, anyway, actually.”

“Oh, was it?” Vanessa’s eyebrow quirked up. “You’re not just saying that so I feel less like I just face planted into a mud puddle in public, are you?”

Oh, okay. Now that was the Vanessa that Anaya knew so well.

“Ha, no, it really was. But then I thought of Eden, and, well, I just… liked it better than all the others.”

“Well, I like Eden better, too. It fits - you’re clearly paradise on two legs.” Vanessa winked, and Eden turned tomato-red. Anaya felt herself nearly knocked over by a wave of something between her usual full-throated adoration of her awkward boyfriend's struggle to take a compliment and relief that things were going so well when she’d been so scared they wouldn’t. Vanessa laughed, her laugh as mellow as everything else about her appearance. “Seriously, though… come, come on in, all of you.”

Anaya’s pulse jackhammered in her throat and at her wrists as she stepped forward, moving from the sunset light outdoors into the darker house. The first thing she saw was a wall painted a beautiful deep evergreen, a wall of a dozen or so pieces of framed artwork that had every rainbow shade and probably a few colors Anaya had never even heard of. Side lamps were lit everywhere, and a ceiling fan turned lazily overhead. This looked like somebody's perfect cozy escape from the world.

Anaya wondered how it would feel, to have a home like this. Somewhere that you owned outright. She and Eden had always been renters, and half the time these days they lived out of Eden's car.

“So… there’s you two, and there’s also… who is this you have with you?” Vanessa asked, voice lilting just a little in curiosity. “A brother? Cousin? What’s your name, honey?”

Misae didn’t answer. His chin had lowered, even though his eyes were locked on Vanessa now, watching her every movement. 

Anaya cleared her throat. “This is… um, this is Misae. We… met him on the trip.”

“Oh, okay. I knew you were camping this weekend in Idaho, so… oh, that’s why you texted me for somewhere to stay? Because of meeting him?” 

“Yeah.” Anaya tried to keep her voice casual, unruffled. “He just needs a safe place, he, uh… He r-ran away from home.” It was close enough to true. Really it was true, she just… left out a few minor details. He was being hunted by a man with a gun and oh, hey, he also turns into a wolf. That’s not a problem, right? “I know I didn’t mention he was with us, and I'm so sorry. We will completely understand if you don’t want to deal with-”

“Hey, I didn’t say that.” Vanessa raised her hands, as though showing she was harmless. Or thought they were. “It’s definitely not a problem. I just wasn’t thinking about you needing more than bed. Seriously, it is no problem, I can blow up the air mattress for an extra bed.” 

“Okay, okay, thank you so much, Vanessa. We’ll just get settled, and if you could tell us where the shower is-“

“Oh, honey,” Vanessa interrupted. “Are you hurt?”

Anaya opened her mouth to reply, but realized Vanessa wasn't looking at her at all. Vanessa moved towards Misae, hands out.

To Anaya's horror, Misae recoiled, snarling with lips pulled back from his teeth, before he lost his balance, trying to catch himself and accidentally putting too much weight on his injured leg.

His knee buckled, and he went down hard, losing his balance with a high-pitched cry, somehow ending up turned around and falling right off the steps onto the stone path that led up to the porch.

He desperately grabbed at Eden's arm to try and catch himself and instead pulled Eden down with him.

Eden grunted when he landed hard on his left elbow, but he had the good luck of falling a little to the side and landing in the grass. Misae smacked down into concrete, catching himself with his hands but Anaya watched his ankle twist in the process.

His whine turned to whimpers, deeply canine. He hunched his shoulders and curled up, still snarling and making a sound somewhere between whimper and growl, and Anaya wondered if everything she hadn’t said about this strange boy was about to spill out anyway, whether she liked it or not.

When Vanessa took one more step forward, Misae snapped at her from where he lay, teeth clicking together sharply. His canines were growing again.

Anaya tried to think of an explanation - something logical that didn't involve breaking the news that at least one totally mythological creature had turned out to be absolutely real - but nothing came.

She only stared with her eyes and mouth both wide.

“Oh, shit,” Vanessa whispered. She didn't seem to have noticed Misae's teeth changing, and Anaya was hit with relief that cut as sharp as any knife. “Oh. I am so fucking sorry, I didn’t-... I didn’t mean-” She moved again, and Anaya caught her by one arm. Tears welled up in her eyes as she turned. “I swear, Anaya, I didn’t mean to scare him!”

“No, I know, he’s just… really jumpy about people who move too fast,” Anaya soothed, watching as Eden moved to Misae and murmured to him. The boy's expression gradually changed and he shook his head, eyes down and hair covering as much of his face as he could manage. At least he stopped making that face. Eden nodded, murmured something not quite audible in reply, and very slowly reached out. 

Misae sat back, holding his hands palms-up, letting Eden take them in his own hands to look them over. Blood welled where skin had been scraped away by catching himself when he fell. 

Misae looked up through the curtain of his messy hair, watching Eden's face. Anaya swallowed hard as she saw a spot of red where she knew the bandage was on Misae’s leg. Was that damn wound ever going to stop bleeding?

“He got used to getting hurt where he lived before,” Anaya said in a low voice, keeping her hand on Vanessa to keep her from potentially scaring the poor kid all over again. She told herself she wasn’t lying - those scars Misae was covered with, hidden thanks to Eden’s shirt and Anaya’s sweatpants, proved that pain had definitely been something Misae understood very well indeed. Maybe the only thing he seemed to understand. “It’s made him jumpy. Let’s, um, let’s go inside and then Eden and Misae can come in after us?”

Vanessa slowly nodded, reluctantly turning away. “Okay. I really am so sorry.”

“It’s totally fine,” Anaya said. She had no idea if it was fine or not. The words just came out automatically, an instinctive reply to try and soothe the unsettled air around them. “He’ll be okay. We’re just trying to get him far enough away that he feels safer.”

“Yeah. I can… I can see why.” Vanessa seemed to remember this was her house and straightened up a little. She shot one more hesitant glance over her shoulder, and then led Anaya through a small living room stuffed with too many hand-me-down couches draped in deep brick-red covers and throw pillows and blankets, into a small hallway with four doors. “So, we have… a linen closet, towels are in there-” She pointed at the first door. Then, across the hall, the bathroom with a tiny shower-bathtub, a toilet, and a sink and mirror. “My water heater isn’t great, but if your showers are fast they can be hot. Otherwise, you might have to settle for more or less warm. And here, right here-” She opened the last door on the left. “This is the guest bed. I’m sorry there isn’t more space-”

“It’s perfect,” Anaya said, forcing her voice to brighten up. Her mind wandered back to the boys outside. “We’ll get settled and get clean and then, if you don’t mind, we might just want to like… nap for a while.”

“Not a problem. I have some work to finish up, anyway.” Vanessa smiled, even as she still looked a little worried and guilty. “Any requests for supper? I’m afraid delivery in this neighborhood isn’t happening, but I’ve got some frozen pizzas and garlic bread, or I could make pasta and sauce, or… if anybody’s low carb, uh, I could run to the store for steak or something…”

Anaya thought of Misae’s thin face, wiry arms, knobby knees, the way his stomach pulled in too much, how he swam in clothes that shouldn't have been oversized. The way his eyes seemed to sink a little into his face. “Um… No, carbs are definitely a good idea. Pizzas?”

“Okay. I’ll get the oven preheating. You three just… you get settled. Let me know if there's anything you need or you can't find.” Vanessa disappeared back out the door and Anaya stepped further into the little room.

There was a side table with a little lamp and she switched it on, absently. It gave the little room, walls painted blue, a cozy glow. She dropped her backpack onto the fluffy oversized comforter - clearly made for a king-sized mattress but laid out over the queen-sized bed - and sat down, slowly leaning over with her hands over her face.

She was so tired.

At least Vanessa had been a lot less bothered by the sudden appearance of two disheveled adults and one teenager than Anaya had expected, but the last bit had clearly thrown that initial lack of bother away. Now they not only had a teenage runaway with them, he was visibly injured and he’d reacted to Vanessa attempting to touch him in a way that made it equally clear he hadn’t come from anywhere good. Plus, the noises he'd made, the way he snarled and snapped like an animal... If Vanessa got too curious, or decided to call the fucking cops... Anaya didn't know why exactly, but she knew that would end badly.

A throat cleared in the doorway and Anaya looked up. Eden stood there, smiling a little, Misae leaning against him again. The boy’s eyes darted around, never landing on any one place for long. He’d been limping before - now he was flat out hopping on one leg, using Eden to keep himself upright. His injured leg was pulled slightly up. 

“He’s okay,” Eden said, in a tone that said he was soothing them both. “Just a little scrape on the hands. I’ll get my kit from the car, we’ll get him a good shower and then I can bandage him up again.”

“Good.” Anaya breathed the word out. Even that felt like it took more energy than she really had left. She hadn’t realized how hard she was working to hold herself together until she didn’t really have to any longer. 

She wanted to sleep for a week.

Maybe a month.

But she’d settle for patting the bed next to her. “Misae, why don’t you just come over here and lay down for a minute with me, okay?”

Misae’s eyebrows briefly furrowed. He licked at his lips - something Anaya was realizing he did almost compulsively when nervous - and then slowly shook his head. “Not allowed,” He said, voice low. He sounded a little confused.

“What? Why? Because you’re bleeding?” 

Misae stared at her for a few long seconds, then shook his head again. “No. We're... not allowed on the furniture.”

Eden’s eyes closed, tightly, for just a second. Anaya watched a vague flush of anger move over his face and be just as quickly pressed down and done away with. She knew what she was seeing, though, and knew Eden would smile soft and sweet even as he turned that over and over in his mind all night long. The same way Anaya would.

Not allowed on the furniture because he's been treated like he’s a dog.

“Well, here you are allowed on the furniture, and I’m saying you should lay down on the bed and get the weight off that leg. Okay?” She patted the bed again. This time, Misae hesitantly nodded and let Eden support his slightly absurd little bunny-hops forward until they made it close enough for him to more collapse than lay down. Misae curled himself up as tightly as he could, arms tucked against his body and only his injured leg out straight, the other one curled with his knee nearly to his chest.

"Oh," He whispered, eyes wide.

Anaya blinked at the look of surprise on his face, and tilted her own head as she looked down at him, slipping a firm pillow beneath his head only for his eyes to widen even further. She fought back a faint smile, worried he might think she was mocking him. “What’s that look for?”

Misae swallowed, those strange golden-brown eyes shifting to meet hers. He returned her smile. “I didn’t know beds were so soft,” He explained. “I’ve never been in one.”

Anaya couldn’t think of a single thing she could possibly say to that.

Eden backed away from them. “I’ll go get our things from the car and then I’m just going to get right into the shower,” He said, voice tight and hard, and turned away, closing the door a little too hard behind him as he went. 

Misae winced when the door shut with a loud thunk, shifting until the top of his head just brushed against the side of Anaya’s leg. She let her hand drift down to run fingers through his hair like she had while Eden stitched him up in the car - oh god, that was less than twelve hours ago, somehow it felt like so much more time had passed than that - and the boy breathed out in something that seemed like pure pleasure, eyes fluttering shut. 

“He’s angry,” Misae said, voice low. Just above a whisper, a little hoarse. "At me."

“He's angry, but not at you," Anaya replied, shifting until her back was against the headboard, keeping her fingers sifting through soft strands. Her own eyes closed and she could feel her exhaustion weighing down every corner of her mind. “Definitely not at you. Just at… what it seems like life has been for you. It’s not going to be like that for you anymore, okay? We’ll figure out how to find some place better for you.”

Misae didn’t reply.

Anaya knew that he was silent, this time, not because he had nothing to say in response, but because he didn’t believe her. 

She wasn’t sure she believed herself.

-

@finder-of-rings @burtlederp @deluxewhump @scoundrelwithboba @shrimpwritings @yassifiedinformation @wildfaewhump @whatwhump @honeycollectswhump @tundra-tiger @dont-look-me-in-the-eye @there-will-always-be-blood

[honeycollectswhump]

i found this prompt in my notes from over a year ago and holy shit it’s a banger (if i do say so myself)

whumpee was abused before and had their trust broken. now they have difficulties trusting that caretakers love was truly unconditional. they were afraid a slip up would cause caretaker to turn on them and hurt them. in their despair they decide to test caretaker: whumpee would hurt them and if caretaker didn’t punish them for it then they would trust them.

so whumpee does just that. maybe they slap caretaker, or grab them way too hard.

caretaker has has bad experiences with violence before but doesn’t punish whumpee for their actions.

now their relationship is changed in 2 ways: whumpee finally puts all their trust i caretaker and almost doesn’t leave their side. caretaker on the other hand is now afraid of whumpee and can’t bring themselves to trust them again. they approach whumpee with caution instead of softness.

what does whumpee do when they realize the consequences of their actions? can they repair what they broke?

[abhainnwhump]

Whumpee shivers and shakes on Whumper's lap as they cling onto them. They have tears of pain in their eyes and the grip helps. Whumper shushes them and runs one hand through their hair. It's weaker than the normal pets because most of their attention is on the knife carving a name/initials/symbol into Whumpee's back.

[shywhumpauthor]

I like the idea of possessive Whumpers with their Whumpees in a setting that’s not direct captivity

Like Whumpee is still living their life, going to work and stuff, from the outside everything seems fine with them. Inside their house, though, of course it’s anything but.

I want the subtle signs of power. The necklace Whumpee wears, that nobody—save for one very specific person—ever gets close enough to notice that there isn’t a clasp—it’s welded on.

Their watch, seemingly a normal smartwatch, but it’s not connected to their own phone. Their location is always being shared to Whumper, and they better pray that the heartbeat monitor on it keeps working because if Whumper thought they took it off for even a minute, they’d be fucked.

Numerous wounds and bruises, hidden under gauze, then bandages, then a long sleeved undershirt, and finally their work clothes. They feel like the fabric is choking them, temperature growing unbearable in the many layers and the office’s heater. But they can’t take it off, not even their jacket.

The dark circles beneath their eyes, concealer smeared over their face to hide the bruises. When their coworkers ask why their voice is so hoarse, why their eyes are so swollen, they respond “just a head cold,” and quickly return to work.

They pray for somebody to notice the signs, and at the same time they hope no one will ever find out, fearing not only what Whumper would do to them, but what they would do to the coworker too.

[bilightningwhumper]

Belonging to Nightmares

-A "12 Dancing Princesses" inspired story-

Rating:

Mature (with some Explicit scenes throughout)

Summary:

Thirty years ago, the wife of the king's favored scientist passed away, taking their unborn child with her. Twenty-five years ago, twelve girls were made and born to the scientist, both in honor and the image of his beloved wife. Nearby, another girl was born, but she was unimportant, unworthy of note by any other than her adoptive parents in celebration of the grand miracle. Now, in the present day, our story starts five days after the scientist's death. Only one daughter, Minna, the one their father kept closest, does not grieve him. Neither does she grieve the loss of freedom taken from her sisters and her. She barely grieves in any way. After all, she does not feel. Not like her friends and sisters do. But she does love, she thinks. And that love is what keeps her going. And so, her fate is sealed. She is the protector of her family. Hidden away in the dark walls of the castle, Kyrie fights to change her fate. After her family's slaughter, she is now a concubine for the king. A king who is unpredictable, ever-changing in what she and others can do to please him. But please him she must, so she can find a way to be with Minna again. Or die trying. All main characters 18+ unless I specify otherwise (ie, certain flashbacks).

MCs:

Minna Palore- Clone 3 of 12, autistic and semi-verbal through echolalia/reading (communicates mainly by writing/visuals) Kyrie Erinsky- Minna's best friend turned girlfriend/lover, adhd and hyperverbal

Basic Premise:

-Medieval with some modern/steampunk-esk twist; partially dystopian or post-apocalyptic in quality -F/F romance -MCs are female whumpees with various whumpers and various caretakers

Types of whump/general warnings:

-lab+medical whump -possessive+manipulation whump -familial whump -discrimination+ableism -nsfwhump (in moderation) -explicit lesbian smut/nsfw content (consensual) I do not condone Rape/Noncon irl. This is purely a way to vent and cope. Take care of yourselves!

(* for mature/18+ posts)

Character List (and mini lore dump)

MC Portraits for "Belonging to Nightmares"

Calendar for the story

Character List for "Belonging to Nightmares" prequel- "The First Ones"

"Do You See Me?" companion story Masterlist

Main Work:

Important Mini *Major Spoiler* Lore Dump

(alternating PoVs; Minna first, Kyrie second, repeat)

Meet Minna

Meet Kyrie [tbd]

Minna- The First Two Years [tbd]

Kyrie- The First Two Years*

Meet the Sisters [tbd]

Masterlists for bits and bobs:

Flashbacks before Separation (chronological order; generally not spoilers)

Flashbacks set during "The First Two Years" (chronological order; mostly semi-spoilers)

Excerpts/Drabbles for The Main Story (chronological order, subject to change; generally spoilers)

Writing Events using these MCs:

Febuwhump 2025 [Planned daily postings 6pm EST]

Feveruary 2025 [Planned daily postings 6:30pm EST and 6:45pm EST]

Femslash February (using hollie47's prompts) 2025 [Planned daily postings 7pm EST]

Femme February 2025 [Planned daily postings 7:30pm EST]

Related answered asks:

Writeblr Library- Browsing: What's something your character is looking for? Will they ever find it? (answered with Minna)

Writeblr Bakery- Cake: How does your character celebrate? Could be for holidays, special events, or general celebration when they are excited/happy? (answered with both MCs)

Writeblr Gym- Stretches: What is your character's final goal? What are they reaching for? (answered with Kyrie)

ask game for teasing wips/upcoming projects- 🌪️Sum up a WIP with a few fic tropes/Ao3 tags

Mystery Question- Snowflake: What's something that your character is sensitive about? (answered with both MCs, as well as Sydney, Cyrus, and Dianna)

WIP ask game- about "The First Ones/The Old Ones" (the prequel story)

WIP ask game- about "Belonging to Nightmares"

Weather ask game- Snow: Who is your coldest / most stoic character and how do they express themselves (if at all)? (answered about Tanis)

Let me know if you want to be on the taglist, but no pressure, as always.

[delicateprincepaper]

lab whump

being treated as less than by everybody, dragged kicking and screaming down the hallway as everybody continues on their day.

Being expandable, useful only as a tool. Covered in scars and given the bare minimum to survive.

on the other hand being treated as a valued weapon to be taken care of. Given a big soft crate, a special diet made just for you, lots of health checks and when restraints are necessary, soft leather ones.

You’re still a tool but a very valued one that receives lots of attention. Being given your own little pet to take care of to keep you happy. Whether this pet is human or animal is your choice.

imagine if the treasured lab whumpee was given the abused beaten down whumpee as a gift.

[whumperofworlds]

A new recruit joins the team, and has been abusing Whumpee. They beat them, hurt them emotionally, etc, and Whumpee kept quiet. Were they worried that the team wouldn't believe their story? Were they threatened into silence?

Leader, however, seemed to have noticed how withdrawn Whumpee is. They even noticed bruises and injuries that were on Whumpee's skin, and they asked them if they were alright. Whumpee brushed them off, saying that they were clumsy, before walking away.

Then, the new recruit took it too far, seriously hurting Whumpee, and when Leader heard their screams, they saw, to their horror, the new recruit, standing over a bleeding Whumpee, taunting them.

Cue a protective and pissed Leader.

[whumpbees]

Caretaker who's love language is playful violence vs Whumpee who's been hit.

[meraki24601]

OMG omg is it too soon to ask for a part 2 to the last Drabble you wrote?? (Sibling caretaker and whumpee) the cliffhanger was crazy

LOL definitely not too soon friend. I wanted to write a second part anyway, but I wanted to make sure people liked the first part before I did. Enjoy! (Also I'm not good at tagging people but here @tettlod!)

Part 1

-----------*-***-*-----------

A New Pet Part 2

Whumper’s fingers twisted sweetly but securely into my hair as I clung to the trashcan pressed against my chest. Any stray strands were caught before they could drop into my face. “It’s alright, Caretaker, don’t try to fight it. I should have known this surprise would be too much. Trauma isn’t something to mess with. I’m sorry.”

Another wave of nausea rushed over me as I made eye contact with my younger sibling. Their eyes darted away from mine the instant they met, but not before I could see the recognition behind them. 

“You kidnapped Whumpee.” My voice ground from my throat. All I could do was keep the disgust out of my tone. This was dangerous ground. The way Whumper’s fist tightened in my hair was evidence enough. 

“I rescued them. Caretaker, Whumpee isn’t human anymore. Your parents took that from them. Do you think it was bad during your childhood?” Whumper released my hair, their hand dragged down my face instead and curled under my chin to force my gaze on them. “I asked them, Caretaker. I asked them what it was like after you left. Before I broke them of their bad habits, I needed to understand them. You taught me that.”

A shiver ran down my spine as Whumper shifted to sit on the floor beside me. Their chest pressed against my back, and one hand rubbed my still churning stomach. Their free hand dipped into my pocket and pulled out my phone. My lock screen was me and Whumper holding my two rescue cats. “A feral animal is only dangerous when it feels it is in danger. If an animal has been hurt by its owners, it will bite you when you try to show it love. 

“When you left, your family hurt Whumpee. Look at the scars on their skin. There’s a surprising beauty in the savage pattern. I hope one day you’ll show me yours. They’re older and cleaner, aren’t they? Whumpee told me how the beatings changed. Rough, more often. They took away their food. Locked them in the tiny closet where I found them. They’re dead, by the way. Your parents? It was quick. You don’t have to worry anymore.”

The world around me spun as Whumper lifted me to my feet. “You don’t need to be afraid of Whumpee either. I can feel you shaking. It’s okay. I’m here. Their training isn’t fully complete yet, but I promise I would never put you in a situation where you were in danger. You mean too much to me.” Whumper’s steady support was the only thing keeping me upright as we walked to the elegant cage. “I was lost without you, Caretaker. Before I found you, my business was on the brink of failure. My old pet had to be put down, and the new one refused to take my training. The mansion was drowning in chaos, and the staff was uncoordinated.”

“I gave you advice.” The ringing in my ears was getting worse. “I taught you new consequences for your rescue pet’s bad behavior.”

“A breakthrough!” Whumper’s grip disappeared as they danced around me. The cage rang as I gripped it desperately, trying to stay upright. Whumper didn’t even notice as they ran their hands over a shelf of black boxes. “The other rehabilitators were shocked when I showed them what you taught me. Your technique is now used worldwide to help people with disobedient or stressed pets.”

My heart pounded in my chest. Whumper was insane. This was beyond just one kidnapping. I’ve been a personal assistant to a high-ranking member of a human trafficking ring. Not only that, my name had been spread worldwide. 

Whumper wasn’t stupid. They might have been turning their back on me for a moment, but when I looked everywhere they moved, their eyes followed me in the reflections around the room. If they decided they didn’t like my response, I could be the next person in a cage. I had to keep them talking until I could compose myself. A whole childhood of hiding emotions and pain was about to come in handy. Add on the past years of practice I had managing people and learning to connect, and there was a chance both Whumpee and I could make it out of this alive.

“How did you find my parents? They were off the grid. I couldn’t even find them.” It wasn’t a strong start but, it was enough to get Whumper talking.

They rambled as I fully took in Whumpee’s state. Some of their wounds were open and bleeding lightly. They didn’t move except for a small shiver against the cold air in the room. If I didn’t know them, I would have said they were completely empty where they knelt. Dissociating or somehow absent from the terrible conversation surrounding them. 

It was a lie. They were there. They were fighting. 

I could see the tension leaving Whumper’s shoulders as they talked and moved around the clean, newly renovated basement, seemingly pleased with my continued questions. They gathered boxes onto a cart and set up a medical table in the corner of the room. It took them nearly 15 minutes before they seemed satisfied with their preparations and moved back to the cage. 

The cage door opened. Whumper was cautious, failing to hide the knife in their hand as they allowed me to pass into the cage. “I meant it when I said I wanted us to train our new pet together. This is a new start for all of us, and there’s no one I trust more to handle this. Do you want to greet them?”

Silence but the sound of my footsteps took control of the room. As I walked into the cage, listening carefully for the sound of hinges closing behind me, Whumpee deepened their kneeling position until their head touched the floor, tilted slightly where their neck was exposed. A thin scar barely touching their neck and leading down their collarbones stole my breath away. 

The scar was the sister to the one on my own shoulder. A three-year-old scar that reminded me every day of when I finally had enough. Father had been drunk. Mother was gone. Father threw his bottle at Whumpee, cutting them. I jumped between them. He didn’t like it. Whumpee simply stood there as he used the glass shards to carve deep into my shoulder. When he finished, Whumpee yelled at me for not stopping him before they got hurt. That it was my fault.

We argued. I left.

Now was my chance to make up for that. First, I had to buy myself time to prepare. 

I didn’t have to make my voice cold as I spoke to Whumpee for the first time in three years. “Look at me.”

Whumpee didn’t move. My hand wrapped around the back of their neck, scruffing them like a cat as best I could while pressing my thumb into their matching scar. “I said, look at me.”

Their face stayed blank, but I could see hope build behind Whumpee’s eyes as they followed my order. They heard the truth in my words as I spoke, “You’re safe now, Whumpee. We’re going to take good care of you.” I would always take care of my sibling, and they knew it. It was just like before. Once I could take control, I would get them to safety, no matter the cost.

“Whumper,” I asked, “Those were medical supplies you were setting up, right? I hate to ask you to leave our new pet so soon, but I would appreciate it if I could have a moment alone with them. Would you help me get them on the table? I’ll be done by the time their wounds are bandaged.”

A grin broke out on Whumper’s face as they joined us in the cage. Whumpee tried to flinch away, but I kept my grip sturdy on their neck. I had to take control. 

“You’re sure, Caretaker? This must be a lot for you at once. I don’t want you to overwhelm yourself. Some of their wounds are deep.” Whumper questioned as they helped me. They honestly seemed to be worried about my PTSD. 

I pulled the neck of my shirt aside, showing Whumper the scar on my shoulder that now gave me courage. “I have plenty of experience caring for injuries. I need a moment to figure out what I want from our pet. I’m sure you have ideas, but I’m new to this. Some time to process would be great, and then we can start writing up a plan for the future.”

Whumpee whimpered as Whumper chained them to the medical table they had set up. A tear rolled down Whumper’s cheek as they looked down on my younger sibling. “You really are amazing, you know that Caretaker. To think, I was worried you would run from me.” 

Blood smeared across my cheek as Whumper brushed my hair out of my face. They leaned in slowly and kissed my forehead. “I’ll be waiting for you upstairs. There are cameras in here. If you need anything, anything at all, just call. I’ll be here.” They walked away, closing and locking the door behind them.

Part 3

[jordanstrophe]

Whumpee's been kidnapped and dragged down a hall. They're forced back on their feet and pushed towards a wide open door.

"Come in, dear. Don't be shy." A voice lulls for them. A guard shoves them in as they stumble through the door and collapse on their hands and knees. A chuckle rings above them as whumpee raises their head to a whumper they know has a deadly reputation.

"There you are, I've been looking for you." They smiled, trying to coax them to come closer.

"St-stay away from me." Whumpee quivered and tried to stand up. Whumper grabbed them by their shirt collar and yanked them back on their knees.

"I'd lose the attitude. How much I like you is how long you get to live." 

[hhabaddon]

June of Doom (Day 17)

Prompt list [here] || Previous / Next

Prompt(s); "Don't lie to me." | Accident | Doubt | Gaslighting

Enjoy! If this one looks a little different, it's because this one was done on my laptop! (finally)

TW // Abuse, gaslighting

----

"Don't lie to me," snarled Whumper, who was towering over a cowering Whumpee.

"I'm not!" cried Whumpee, tears dripping off their chin, “It really was an accident!”

Whumpee looked over at the broken glass beside them. They had been drying the dishes when one had slipped out of their hands, shattering on the tile floor. They were in the process of cleaning it up when Whumper arrived home.

Whumper scoffed at them, "You don't really think that, do you, Whumpee?"

Whumpee trembled under Whumper's glare. It was an accident!

"Obviously, you dropped that on purpose. To provoke me."

"No!" defended Whumpee, "It-"

Whumper cut them off, "You're crazy. I can't believe you'd break something. On purpose, too." Whumper shook their head at Whumpee, as if disappointed with them.

"And then," Whumper continued, eyebrows furrowing, "When I asked you what happened, you yelled at me."

"What," whispered Whumpee, "No, I-, You-!"

Had they really broken it on purpose?

"And now!" cried Whumper, "You're trying to gaslight me?"

Were they? They weren't trying to...

"No, I..." Whumpee looked down at the ground.

"I can't believe you, Whumpee." A tear dripped off Whumper's face, and landed on Whumpee's knee. "Clean this shit up. You deserve it."

Whumper walked out of the room. Whumpee tucked their head between their knees and cried.

Had they really done all that? They must really be a bad guy.

June of Doom Masterlist [here]

[the-baby-storyteller]

An abused Whumpee who helps other abused people out of so many bad situations and is applauded for it and being such a good person,

But they’re also being abused secretly and they never talk about it, never make it known to the world.

Maybe they don’t like talking about it. Maybe they think they deserve it. Maybe they try to pretend that part of their life doesn’t exist. Maybe they’re too scared to do anything about it, so they focus instead on being brave for other people.

Whatever the reason is, they never hint it to anyone, suffering in silence. While they tirelessly help others

Maybe they secretly hate the pity being a person saved from abuse creates. Maybe they’re afraid they’ll turn out like one of their own cases.

[abhainnwhump]

So we all know the "Whumpee thinks Caretaker is their new master" trope, right? (my favorite version of this is when Caretaker is incredibly insecure and socially awkward and is just like "guys help") Anyways, instead of Caretaker coaxing these behaviors out of Whumpee, they take advantage of it. Caretaker never liked Whumpee before their kidnapping. Too loud, too annoying, too . . . everything. So once they get them back and they've been conditioned to be a perfect silent servant, they thought 'Well, it wouldn't hurt if I gave in for a while'.

Caretaker turned Whumpee into their personal servant and prevents them from healing. They have them do all the house chores, cooking, and cleaning. In exchange, they tell Whumpee 'good job', but most of the time they ignore them. That doesn't matter to Whumpee, it's more kindness then what Whumper gave them.

Whumpee is so used to be treated like a slave they don't question it. It isn't until Caretaker 2 or Whumper comes in does Whumpee realize something is off.

Bonus points if Caretaker was an abusive partner or friend before the whumpening.

[shywhumpauthor]

A gun pressed to a feverish Whumpee’s forehead, but they’re so delirious and the cold feels so good against their flushed skin, they can’t help but lean into it, much to Whumper’s shock or delight.

[bilightningwhumper]

Kyrie- The First Two Years

Current "unofficial" Chapter Four of "Belonging to Nightmares"

"Belonging to Nightmares" Masterlist

*Warnings: torture, stress positions, burning, lady/female+nonhuman whumpee, nudity, dubcon/noncon intmacy, SA (very, very brief description/fade-to-black), drugging, manipulation, death, blood, abuse, conditioning, experimentation, manipulation/gaslighting, mentions and description of miscarriages*

[Basically, Kyrie goes through a lot and it's very long; SA in "Tertuary (day#), 1383" and "December (day#), 1384"; Miscarriage des./men. in "Tertuary (day#), 1384" and "October (day#), 1383"]

Secunder (day#), 1385

Her body was screaming. How long had she been like this? Hours? Days? Weeks?

Dr Covenfere had chained and fastened Kyrie's arms up behind her back, raised so they hung at an angle. Not enough to dislocate, but she'd wished to the gods they would. If she had been injured like that, they would have stopped this new method of testing her. Instead, weights had been hung over her neck and shoulders, forcing her to strain to keep somewhat upright.

It had been easier to do this when she had been able to kneel. The floor of the cell was hard and unforgiving, bruising her knees as she shifted against the stone, but it had been bearable. Now her ankles and legs had been chained 'just so' to her waist so she had to keep herself up in the air to kneel or be seared by the burning coals beneath her. A delicate balancing trick that Dr Covenfere had perfected for 'her little test subject.'

Even with the brief allowances to drink water, she could barely sweat anymore.

The door opened in front of her, letting in a cold breeze that didn't even make her shiver or flinch. She'd learned very quickly that moving just a hair would throw off her careful balance. Once she was in pain, brain fuzzed by agony, it was hard to gain it again.

"Hello, my darling." the king drawled, the smirk clear in his voice. "Are you ready to behave today?"

A cover was placed beneath her, extinguishing the burning heat. She was given no warning other than the weights being removed before her chains were released and she fell in a heap to the floor.

Thoroughly exhausted, she just lay there. They were going to do what they wanted to her anyway. Might as well make them work for it.

Her hair was pulled by her ragged ponytail, the sight of Dr Covenfere's face greeting her blurry vision.

"You know what to do, girl." the scientist mono-toned. "Disappoint me and you'll be back in those chains."

She couldn't even grimace, let alone move her limbs. But she was able to her eyes as her head was dropped back to the floor.

It didn't take much effort anymore. Months of poking and prodding, forced to down terrible concoctions, days of painful seclusion... After everything they'd done to her, she could still manage to shift at her most depleted.

Bones shrank and moved. Her skin changed, becoming fluffier as her hair shortened and grew all over her body. When she was done, she'd become a small black dog.

Unfortunately, she couldn't hold the form for long, shifting back after barely a minute. Somehow more worn than before, her darkness edged in behind her closed eyes.

"It appears we have a new limit, your majesty." That aggravating monotone voice kept her from passing out. "But I believe it to be the subject's true limit. Any further may cause permanent damage."

The familiar repulsive feeling of the king's fingers in her hair made her flinch, making her wish she could smack his hand away. "Good." His voice grew closer as the scent of his perfumes and ointments grew stronger, not helping the fogginess in her mind as they overwhelmed her nose. "I told you we could break you, didn't I, bitch? So there will be no more of your rebellious outbursts, or I will order the good doctor to push for a new limit. But next time, it will be for your precious Minna. And we don't want that, now do we?"

If she could have responded, she would have bit him.

Instead, a mask was placed over her face, a bitter smelling gas filling her nose and lungs. She choked at first before her body turned heavy.

Then nothing.

~~~

Tertuary (day#), 1383

When Kyrie got home, she knew something was wrong. The air felt tense, thick. Going into the house, it was too quiet. No candles were lit. No firelight from the kitchen or smell of dinner cooking. No friendly chatter coming from the living room. Neither her parents or her siblings called out a greeting. It seemed like no one was home at all.

Cautiously, Kyrie crept through the hall to the kitchen. She could smell something nearby. Almost like.. metal? But everything was pitch black. Even the shutters had been closed, barely any light coming through the cracks for her eyes to adjust to at all. The only thing she could make out when she made it to the room was the empty dining table and faint bare counter-tops on the opposite side of the door.

“Hello?” she called out.

No answer.

“Anyone home?”

Still no answer.

Huffing, she felt her way to the other side of the room. At least if she could light the oven, she’d be able to see better. She tripped over something. A shoe? Gods, this better not be another one of the twins’ stupid pranks.

“This isn’t funny!” she said loudly, making it to the oven. And of course the flint and steel weren’t in their usual spot.

Something clattered behind her.

She spun around-

Only to see the faint shape of a pot had fallen from the top of the cabinet shelves.

“What did you expect?” she muttered to herself, turning back around. “Mom and Dad are running late and the twins decided to mess with you. Granted in the creepiest way possible. But nothing to-”

A hand clamped over her mouth while a large armored arm constricted around her waist.

Her scream was muffled by the glove. Her struggling meant nothing as more guards marched into the room. Two of them held lanterns, making her eyes water in the sudden light as someone else walked into the room between them.

Dr Covenfere? What was the king’s personal scientist doing here?

“Retrain her to the table.” the woman said sharply. “Hold the girl down and don’t let go, no matter what she does. Gag her, too. Screaming gives me a headache.”

Kyrie fought her best, wriggling and kicking her legs to no avail. Her head hit the table hard as the guard slammed her down. In her daze, four of them held her to the table, which she thought was a little excessive. Then her legs, still hanging over the table, were taken by two others. They held her firmly, tethering her feet securely to the table-legs before she could react. Someone else shoved cloth in her mouth, tying more around her head so she couldn’t spit the wad out.

Hands gripped her waist. “I would suggest you stay still, girl.” Dr Covenfere growled. “That is, unless you want to be paralyzed.”

Tears soaked the gag as Kyrie did her best to comply, but her body shook with the force of her sobs and panic. She felt the cold metal of a blade on her back as her dress was cut and torn down the middle, top to bottom. And it didn’t stop there, cutting through her threadbare undergarments, letting them drop to the floor and exposing her to everyone. Her skin crawled as the woman’s fingers brushed against the birthmark on her hip.

“Well, I’ll be.” She could barely hear the scientist, her voice so quiet she seemed to be talking to herself. “Palore was right. Which means…” Fingers pressed several points roughly between Kyrie’s shoulder-blades, making her yelp. “There it is.”

Now Kyrie did freeze, breath catching as something pricked her spine, numbness spreading from that spot on her back. She couldn’t feel anything at first. Then something warm and wet spread past the area, dripping down her body into her tattered dress. Even through her stuffed nose, she could smell the metallic scent of… blood.

The smell that had greeted her when she first walked into the house. It was blood.

She didn’t even try moving again as Dr Covenfere pulled back. “Got it. Now, one last thing,” she muttered. Then, louder, “Sorry, girl, but Beringer doesn’t like virgins.”

Something hard, cold, and wet touched the place between her legs, somewhere that only she, not even Minna, had ever explored. She shrieked into the gag as the object was shoved mercilessly inside, unforgiving as it split her open. Panting, she tried to breathe past the pain, tense and rigid as it was pushed back and forth before being taken out. The ache remained.

The guards let her go, but she didn’t move. She was so… confused. Hurt. Scared. Why her? Why her… her family? What had she done?

“Bring her out to the carriage.” the scientist ordered. “The king has waited long enough for this one.”

So they took her limp body, carrying her by her arms as her feet dragged and stumbled against the ground. At least some of her dignity was spared with her blood-soaked and torn dress still hung on by the sleeves to cover her front. Her eyes stayed fixed to the ground and…

She closed her eyes, choking back a sob as the sight of the newly illuminated bloodstained floor embedded itself into her mind. There were trails, pools of blood. It… She didn’t want to know what was there, where they led. She didn’t… she couldn’t look. Her throat involuntary choked and gagged even with the cloth shoved between her jaws as the stench burned into her nose before they went outside. The cool night air did nothing to remove that smell from her lungs.

Was this the truth behind becoming a companion to the king? But she’d seen the families of the new members of court, watched them move up in society, move to better positions as payment for selling their progeny to the king. So why… Why?

They practically tossed her onto the carriage floor, barely letting her sit up before locking the door with a sharp click behind her. Leaving her alone. No, not alone. At the feet of the king himself.

She sat back, curling her legs to her chest as she tried to keep herself covered with the ruined dress.

“Well, aren’t you just absolutely darling?” King Beringer said, his voice a low rumble, consuming and invading the small space.

Kyrie glared up at him. King or no king, she was not going to be treated like some… some thing. Like a toy, a possession, an object. She was a person, a human, same as him. Well, with this man, “human” was debatable. Regardless, her… her parents had taught her better than to accept being treated as less than.

When he reached down to her, she smacked his hand away, tearing the gag away herself and baring her teeth. A more animalistic growl than she expected came from deep in her throat. But when she saw the brief glint of fear in his eyes, she couldn’t help but feel a grim sort of pride.

“Fascinating.”

He actually knelt down on the floor with her, even as the carriage started moving. Sweat built against her brow as he seemed to tower over her, more-so than when he had been seated above her. Backing away did little as she became more cornered against the door. She couldn’t dodge his hand this time as he went for her neck.

Squeezing her throat, he grinned, his own teeth bared, eyes cold. “Try anything and I’ll make your beloved Minna suffer more than her father already has. Understood?”

Swallowing hard against his grip, she nodded. When he let her go, she croaked, “What do you want from me?”

He didn’t answer her, more concerned with attempting to remove the rest of her dress. When she resisted, he gave her a sharp look. “Behave and I’ll tell you the truth. For a price.”

“And if I don’t?”

His eyes bore into hers. “I’ll take what I want regardless.” he snarled, sending chills down her spine. Then he spoke softly, his voice as smooth as honey as he caressed her cheek. “But I am a reasonable man. If you let me take you willingly, I’ll do one favor for you. One truthful answer. One request granted. Whatever you may desire, as long as it is within my ability.”

Her mouth went dry. “But I-” she cleared her throat. “I like women.”

“Oh, that won’t be a problem.” he chuckled, pulling out a flask from his robes. “One drink from this and you won’t have to worry about that. So,” He held out the flask to her. “What will it be, my darling?”

She stared at the small metal canteen and for once words failed her. The last, what, hour of events had her head spinning. She wasn’t a noble. She wasn’t even from a well-off family. They’d barely scraped by. Minna was really her only connection to that world, but no one saw her friend as a “real” lady.

But now she had been forbidden from seeing or even talking to Minna ever again. All because Dr Palore had caught them kissing. She was just lucky that… Well, not so lucky. Her family was… They were…

“Why me?” she rasped. “I’m not anyone. Is this because of my being with Minna?”

“Ah, ah, ah,” King Beringer tutted, tilting her chin up with his free hand, that smile shifting to a smirk. “That’s two questions. But I’ll let you have them, since it’s your first time.” Then he offered her the flask again. “But, you have to drink all of it if you want both answers.”

Her stomach churning, she took it. The smell of whatever was inside was odd. Flowery, but bitter. She’d expected alcohol or something similar. Closing her eyes, she chugged it all down as fast as she could manage before she thought about it too much.

The effects hit her almost immediately.

It burned going down.

Her body slowly went fully limp, the flask slipping from her hand just as she finished the last drop. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak.

Something started stirring under her skin. The same sensations she’d feel when kissing Minna, though they’d always stopped before things got too intense. But this fire… it was those same feelings, several times stronger. The ache since she’d been violated went away, replaced by this throbbing. A deep need for something her body wanted, but her mind did not.

If she could have, she would have started crying again.

Instead, she was as pliant as a doll, tears trapped in her eyes. Powerless as the king stripped her of her remaining dignity as he removed the rest of her dress. She was surprised her body didn’t shake with the force of her heart pounding in her chest. King Beringer’s fixed gaze of of hunger and greed made her feel dirty and disgusting all over.

“To answer your second question first,” he rumbled, lifting her onto the carriage bench. “It was because of Minna that I found you. How fortunate you fell for the daughter of the man who delivered you all those years ago.”

Her mind was scattered. It kept trying to focus on the little details around her instead of what he was saying. The coarseness of the seat against her skin. The gold accents blinking in the starlight from the windows on the roof. It took all of her effort to keep her attention on his words, everything to keep from being aware of his hands and-

“As to your first question,”

Gods, he was getting undressed.

“You are the answer to all my troubles. The key to my ultimate desire.” He spread her legs, pressing something warm to where her core had become wet. “Everything will be solved with my child growing inside your precious womb.”

The unshed tears in her eyes fell one by one as he used her, thrusting her roughly against the bench with his force. She could feel the bruises forming on her waist, her back, her legs.

When he was finally finished with her, feeling gradually came back to her body. Her limbs twitched slightly as she laid there, motionless. By the time the carriage had stopped, the servants taking her out and carrying her into the castle, she had mercifully fallen unconscious.

~~~

Tertuary (day#), 1384

The dish shattered against the wall near Kyrie as she sat, shaking, on the floor. She could feel the blood leaving her body as her insides cramped and tore themselves apart. Something that shouldn’t be happening since she was… she had been… Gods, it was happening again. She was really losing another one. Sobs bubbled in her chest as she desperately tried to hold them back. It would only make the king angrier.

“Are you doing this on purpose just to spite me?!” he roared, pacing around the room, hands raking through his usually carefully styled hair. “Do you really think you can keep getting away with this?!”

Frantically, she shook her head, stopping as it made the world spin. “N-no, I don’t- I don’t know what h-happened-” she whimpered, flinching as another plate flew past her head.

The door burst open, Iris storming in, Cirila close behind her.

“Beringer, stop.” she ordered, eyes flashing.

As the king rounded on her, Cirila went right to Kyrie. He ignored the other companion, shouting at Iris, “This is none of your concern!”

“Seeing as she is not currently pregnant, your abusing my companion is very much my concern!” the queen shot back. Her words were even and firm, but Kyrie could see how her fists shook, hear the almost imperceptible tremble in her voice.

Cirila put a hand on Kyrie’s back, drawing her attention away from the couple. “Can you walk?” she whispered.

Kyrie shook her head, lip quivering as the arguing got louder.

With a nod, the other companion picked Kyrie up in her arms, barely hindered by the smaller woman’s many skirts. Not that she weighed much under the bulk of her dress anymore.

She weakly protested as they left the king’s chambers. “But Iris-”

“Will be back later.” Cirila said firmly, her eyes fixed straight ahead.

Unable to argue, Kyrie let her head fall against Cirila’s chest, her arms wrapped behind the other woman’s neck as she brought her to the queen’s wing. She let herself cry now, shaking as the blood still flowed from her body. It was so much worse than the first time.

By the time she’d been brought to her bed, the queen’s doctor called for, she was in a daze, barely able to follow what was being said to her. Barely able to stay awake as they tended to her, trying to stop the bleeding that didn’t seem to end.

As darkness came over her, Kyrie’s thoughts floated through her mind. Not for the first time, she asked herself: What if she never gave the king a child?

~~~

October (day#), 1383

Kyrie wrapped her arms around herself as she huddled on the bench. Her whole body ached. After having to shift so much in the past week, it hurt not being able to. She’d just started getting used to it, too. For so long she’d felt odd in her body. Her whole life, really. Being able to shift felt so… freeing. Changing into whatever she wanted, even if she wasn’t able to right now. Not that she could control it yet. But it felt… nice. Really, really nice. Maybe that was the same thing Minna and her sisters felt when they used their abilities. Something as natural as breathing. Because it did feel suffocating when they put this cursed thing around her neck.

An itch built up in her nose.

Oh no.

She sneezed, wincing as her body attempted to shift, but her necklace burned, stopping the change before it could begin. The chip Dr Covenfere had dug out of her back months ago was now disguised as a lovely golden locket on a delicate golden chain. A chain that couldn’t be broken, no matter how hard she’d tried. Only the king and the scientist held keys to the damn thing.

“Hello.”

Just about jumping out of her skin, Kyrie looked up to see- Queen Iris?!

She scrambled to her feet, attempting to curtsy as best she could. “Y-your majesty!” she stammered, head bowed, eyes fixed to the floor. “I, um-”

Hands gently took her arms, lifting her out of the curtsy. “Oh, there’s no need for all that.” the queen laughed lightly, sounding almost… bitter? Sad?

Curious, Kyrie risked glancing up.

There were bags under the queen’s eyes. She didn’t wear makeup, Kyrie discovered. Her shoulders were down, but not relaxed. More like if she was carrying the weight of the world, though she held herself upright as if trying to hide it.

“You’re Kyrie, aren’t you?” she asked in that same tinged quiet voice. “You can just call me Iris. In settings like this, that is. I don’t mind.”

Humming, Kyrie chewed on her lip before blurting out, “Are you okay?” She immediately flushed, wishing she could take the words back.

But the queen just laughed, smiling more genuinely now. The regal woman sat on the bench before she offered the seat next to Kyrie. “You’re a straight-forward one, aren’t you?”

Still flushed, Kyrie took the seat. “I’m working on it.” she mumbled, fiddling with the decorative ribbons on her dress. The low neckline only made her more self conscious than it normally did being in the presence of someone so dignified. How was she supposed to hold herself? Or talk without looking like a fool?

A soft, warm hand took one of hers. She looked up to meet Iris’ eyes again. They were brown, like her own. Though a lot of people had brown eyes. Strangely normal for a noble.

“I don’t mind.” The queen was still smiling, her eyes kind. “It’s refreshing. Even my companions hesitate speaking so bluntly to me.” Then she frowned, her other hand coming up to Kyrie’s cheek. When Kyrie winced as the freshly covered cut met her fingers, her eyes hardened. “He’s not a gentle man, is he?”

Weakly, Kyrie smiled. Unsure if she could speak freely of the king here, she just said, “King Beringer isn’t bad. I just… Um.” Her breath shuddered, a lump forming in her throat. Memories of waking up, legs covered in blood, pain, so much pain, all flooded back to her. She tried to push them down, tried to forget again. The queen couldn’t help her with her troubles. Not that she would dare to ask. She cleared her throat, doing her best to give a more reassuring smile. “It’s nothing to trouble you, your majesty. The king cares for me in his own way.”

A bitter smile on her face, Iris tucked some loose hair behind Kyrie’s ear. “Sweetheart, you’re not alone. We’ve all been… cared for by him in the same way.” Then she did draw back, pulling down her neckline to show Kyrie her collarbone. A long jagged scar ran down, no doubt past her heart.

Kyrie could only manage to inhale sharply, clenching her hands into fists, as the queen put her clothes to rights before reaching into a hidden pocket in her skirts. Out of it, she took out a small jar.

“May I?” she asked. “It’s a healing salve.”

Tears sparked in Kyrie’s eyes. Suddenly she was at home, her mama gently chastising her for getting into another fight while she treated her various bruises. But she’d never got that mad, not really. Not when it had been because she’d been standing up for her friends. Usually it was for Minna, whom her parents had practically taken in as another daughter. Her parents…

The dam broke when arms wrapped around her, pulling her into the warmest and most comforting hug she’d had since being brought to the palace. Each sob heaved from deep in her chest. In the back of her mind, she worried about ruining her makeup or the queen’s dress. But the arms only pulled her closer, holding her tight. As the smell of Iris’ perfume grew stronger, she stopped caring about being dignified.

Even after her crying died down, after she had stopped sniffling and shaking, the older woman still held her close.

So she drew back herself, wiping her eyes with her sleeves. No doubt her makeup was already a mess and she didn’t really care much about her own dress. But she still took the handkerchief she was offered with a quiet thank you, using that instead. “Sorry, I’ve- I guess I’ve been feeling a little…” She swallowed hard. “Homesick.”

“That’s perfectly alright, hun.” Iris said kindly, rubbing her back gently. “Have you written to your family? I can arrange a visit, if you’d like.”

Kyrie hid her face, looking down as she fought back a new batch of tears. “They’re dead.” she croaked.

Silence fell between them. The queen just sat there with her as now silent tears traced down her cheeks, taking her hand again. Every time Kyrie thought she’d cried her last over her family, the grief overwhelmed her again.

“I lost my daughter. He took her from me, when he took my husband.”

Unsure, Kyrie looked up, tears still clouding her vision. She’d thought talking of before King Beringer’s rule was forbidden. But this was Iris. She was probably the only one that could.

“Genevieve would have been around your age now.” she continued, her voice turning wistful, eyes turned to the sky.

“How old would she be?” Kyrie asked, her own voice croaky and rough.

Sighing softly, the queen’s sad smile returned. Her own eyes were full of unshed tears. “Twenty-six years old.”

Kyrie couldn’t help but let out a small rueful laugh. “Just a year older than me.”

Iris hummed softly, turning to look at the younger woman thoughtfully. “Would you like to live with me?” she asked. It was odd to hear a woman with her position and power so hesitant and hopeful. “You would be the youngest, as most of my companions are closer to my age. But you would be welcome to join my court if you wished.”

“I-” Words failed her again. Live with the queen? Her? “Would it be allowed?” she asked tentatively. “He-” She couldn’t finish. Did Iris even know what the king was doing with her? His intentions? The experiments?

It was almost like a mask went on, like what she’d seen happen to Minna over and over. But it was different, like seeing a new side of Queen Iris. Someone with a spark in her eye, a jaw firm and determined, head held high and shoulders back as she nodded to Kyrie.

“I’ll see to it that it is.” she said fiercely.

Then she stood, turning on her heel to stride back into the main castle, leaving Kyrie to wonder ‘what just happened?’

~~~

December (day#), 1384

Gods, she must be insane. After being so harshly thrown out from the king’s chambers for something Iris and the others assured her (repeatedly) was not her fault, here she was, standing in front of his door.

She’d already told Iris what she was planning. How she needed to know. Her queen had understood, even if she worried. After all, even with the experiments and testing she’d still had to endure, Kyrie was finally healthier now than she had been in months. Getting sleep, gaining weight, real color in her face rather than covered in layers of makeup. Doing this would most likely reverse all of her progress.

Before she could lose her nerve, Kyrie knocked on the door. With every heartbeat, she wanted to run. But her feet stayed rooted to the floor, even as she flinched when the door swung open.

King Beringer remained expressionless as he gazed down at her. “Well, well,” he drawled, his rumbling echoing through the empty hall, save themselves and the posted guards. “What brings you here at this late hour, my darling?”

Swallowing back bile, she stood at her full height. Even if she barely came up to his chest, she felt more confident in a dress she’d chosen, hair in a style she wanted, with the lucky charm Iris had given her heavy in her pocket. Looking directly in his eyes, she declared, “I came for a drink.” She couldn’t help but falter at his smirk, but continued, “And an answer.”

“Oh really?”

She forced herself to stay still as he took her chin in his hand, fingers tight on her jaw. It was extremely hard not to smack him as he looked her up and down, as if already undressing her with his eyes. So she settled with glaring at him.

He let go, stepping back as he held his arm out into the room. “After you, darling.”

Her heart pounding, she walked in. The original plan had been to stand outside, demand an answer before she even crossed the threshold. But her fear was beginning to override her confidence, desperation taking its place. She needed to know things and he was the only one who could tell her

The door shut with a firm thud. Now she was trapped. A mouse in the lion's den.

"So what is it you wanted, my darling?" He was behind her, his hands on her waist. They traveled up, his fingers brushing the neckline of her dress, his palms pressing into her breasts. His words were dripping in poison honey as he continued, his mouth hot against her neck. "Are you sure you didn't just miss my company?"

Without thinking, she shoved his arms away, red faced and shaking. It was already bad enough she had to do this. He really didn’t have to make it worse.

Stepping away, she turned to face him, arms crossed in front of her chest. “Why did you kill my family?” she asked shortly.

He regarded her, a look in his eyes she couldn’t read. “Your family,” he said, closing the distance between them, taking a loose strand of her hair between his fingers. “Was in my way.” His eyes bore into hers. “And I don’t like it when people get in my way.”

Pressing her lips together, she met his eyes firmly. That wasn’t a real answer and they both knew it. Every instinct told her that it wasn’t just because of her abilities that he wanted her for. He wanted her child, but why did it have to be his? And there was no guarantee that it would even gain her genes. So what was he not telling her?

“I came for the truth.” she said, firm and clear. “Not another half-truth. The full truth that you owe me.”

His face darkened as he grabbed her hair, yanking it back as she yelped and fought to free herself.

“That I owe you?” he snarled, face close to hers. “I owe you nothing, whore. You should be thanking me, freeing you from that pathetic life they’d given you.”

She had no choice but to stumble with him as he drug her across the room, still ranting.

“Dr Covenfere wanted to lobotomize you. Make you a nice little obedient doll for both of us. But, lucky for you,” He threw her on the bed, his smile not matching the lividity in his eyes as he looked down at her. “I like a challenge.”

Kyrie’s lip quivered as she retreated on the bed covers. Words stuck in her throat, only a strangled sound of protest coming from her mouth.

“Strip.” he ordered, taking off his shirt. “Unless you want me to rip that hideous rag off of you.”

She did as she was told, doing her best to keep out of his reach. “Sh-shouldn’t I drink the potion now?”

“Oh,” Her stomach dropped as he pushed her to the sheets, his eyes more like a predator’s than hers would ever be. “We won’t be needing it tonight.”

~~~

Tertuary (day#), 1385

Kyrie was furious. Manipulating and telling half truths to her was one thing. But she’d obeyed King Beringer! She’d been playing by his rules, staying in line. Yet now he’d done this?

Her anger only grew as she watched Minna be supported by her sisters out of the palace and into one of their carriages home. How she longed to help herself, not to be trapped behind a window, stories apart from her.

As soon as the king returned to his chamber and removed her collar, Kyrie slapped him across his face.

“You bastard!” she snarled. “You scheming, vile-”

He hit her. Hard. A fist to her jaw, sending her tumbling to the floor.

She didn’t make the mistake of looking up as the king overshadowed her. Even as pressure on her ankle caused pain to surge through her nerves.

“I let you see her again.” he snarled, putting more weight on his foot to make her whine. “I gave you a choice. And yet you lash out at me when you don’t take it?”

Instead of breaking her ankle or leg, he stepped away, going to the fireplace and holding the metal end of the poker inside the burning flames. As he held it there, he met her eyes. “Here. Now.”

She didn’t know what would be worse. Him breaking her limb or whatever he planned for her now.

Reluctantly, she got up, resisting touching her still throbbing jaw. As she’d done so often, she automatically knelt by his side.

When he moved his free hand, she flinched. But he only reached into his pocket before letting the golden locket on its golden chain swing in front of her nose.

She put it on before she registered that’s what she was doing.

“That’s a good girl.” he purred, petting her hair. Gentler than before, he gripped the back of her head, pulling her head to make her look up at him. “Now that Dr Covenfere has her new test subjects, I’ll be fully in charge of your punishments.” He released her, pushing her down as he did so. “On your stomach.”

Shaking, she laid down on the carpet, her jaw and cheek becoming irritated by the coarse material immediately. This was worse. This was so much worse. She didn’t like being blind like this, not being able to see what he was planning. Powerless as she heard the king moving near her. There was no warning as he knelt on her back, pinning her firmly to the floor.

Kyrie could hear the smile in his voice as he gripped one of her ankles firmly in his hand, making her bend her knee as he pulled it up off the floor. “Feel free to scream as loudly as you please, my darling. I quite enjoy hearing your delicious sounds.”

Then, she was burning.

Of course she screamed. How could she not? The sole of her foot felt like it was on fire. No matter how hard she tried to wrench her leg away, his grip was unyielding. When he took the poker away, she wept freely, not caring if he punished her for it. Her tears only fell faster as he switched to her other ankle.

“Please,” she blubbered. “Please, don’t. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

His grip only tightened. “It’s far too late for apologies, my darling. Clearly, I’ve given you too much freedom as of late.” The heat of the metal grew closer as he ignored her sobbing pleas. “Perhaps now you’ll remember you belong to me.”

This time when the poker came down and she screamed, louder than before, darkness gathered at the edges of her vision. She passed out before he’d even let her go.

---

When she woke up, she was disoriented. Both her hands and feet throbbed. As her eyesight cleared, she realized she was in her room. It was hard to focus on anything because of it. And her vision was blurry even in the dim light of the dark room. Not the king’s chambers or in the room by his. Her bedroom in her queen’s wing. And she was dressed. Only in a robe, but it was light and soft. Odd after so long of not wearing anything at all, but comforting.

Her attempt to sit up only resulted in a soft cry of pain and further throbbing in her hands.

Not even a minute later, Terrell walked in, Iris close behind him.

“I can’t even leave you alone for one second, can I?” he chided her, a wry smile on his lips but worry in his eyes.

Kyrie managed a weak smile, rasping, “Sorry. How long-” Her voice caught, coughing from her dry throat.

The two of them jumped into action, fussing over her. Iris helped her to sit up against the pillows and to drink some water, while Terrell checked on her bandages.

When Iris brushed her bangs out of her eyes, Kyrie couldn’t help but lean into her touch. Her fingers were cool against her skin. It was then that she registered that there wasn’t even a blanket over her.

“You’ve been unconscious for almost two days.” Iris said quietly, putting her full palm against Kyrie’s forehead. “But your fever’s gone down now, so that should mean we’re past the worst of it.”

Terrell hummed in agreement. “If Beringer wasn’t such a stubborn asshole, we would have been able to help sooner. But instead he had to wait until your burns got infected before we could step in to help.” His voice was fierce, but his hands were gentle as he began unwrapping her hands.

They... were not a pretty sight. Kyrie's stomach churned, seeing her mottled pink and red skin.

"It was worse," Terrell said, carefully applying ointment as her skin tingled and stung. "We had to use the serum. I'm sorry."

Iris put her finger over Kyrie's lips before she could say a word. "If we didn’t, we would have lost you." There were tears in her queen's eyes. "You can be mad, but we didn’t have another choice. Kimberly is confined with her sisters in the manor. So..." she trailed off as her voice broke.

She deflated, what little energy she had leaving her body. As much as it hurt, Terrell's soft ministrations were somewhat relaxing. And she didn’t know what to think about the serum. On one hand, she hated the way they discarded her one wish. But on the other... she understood. And Minna would no doubt have insisted she used it, even if they both knew what it had cost.

"Your other friends from town. Their names are Sarah and Jarred, right?" Terrell asked.

Humming, Kyrie nodded, unable to keep her eyes open.

Iris' voice floated in her ears. "They're here, in the castle. Evidently, they sought employment here in an effort to find you."

Oh. That was nice.

"Wanna see them." she mumbled. Then yawned, trying to stay awake. "But not yet. Don’t want them to see... Tired..."

If anything else was said, she was too asleep to hear it.

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