#fae whumper

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

Whumper drugging Whumpee up so they're super docile and out of it for when the other whumpers come over for a whumper party. Whumper's guests take turns cooing over Whumpee, petting them, holding them in their laps and feeding them little treats like pieces of fruit or chocolate. The whumpers fighting for the adorable Whumpee's attention, however limited it may be. Now imagine Whumpee is a human and the whumpers are all fae.

...should I write this?

[auroragehenna]

AI-less Whumptober

Day 2 - Alternate prompt: Animal bite

TW/CW: Fae whumper, mortal whumpee, animal bite, flesh wound, creepy whumper, teenzy gaslighting, scared whumpee, non-con body control, binding word Word count: 1'000

Coyotes are absolutely not supposed to be native to our forests!?!

Whumpee ran on the narrowing dirt path, soles of their sneakers hitting the soil with quick thumps.

Behind them another loud bark sounded. This time even closer than before.

Tree. Tree. They had to find a tree. Something high to climb onto. But just as their eyes settled onto two large foundlings on either side of the road and they bolted between them pain exploded in their left calf. They came crashing to the floor, jerking around to see a coyote latching onto their leg, teeth blazed and already sprinkled red from their blood. Panicked their fingers searched the ground until closing around a larger stone and aggressively throwing it towards the animal...Only that it never hit them. Completely unsettled they robbed back a few more paces until a shiver ran over their spine. They looked back-nothing but forest.

They looked to the front again-nothing. No coyote, definitely still an injured leg-but wait. There was something. A pair of eyes watching them from the tangled thicket. Still holding the stone up high they yelled out: "Who's there? Why are you watching me!?"

A chuckle, barely distinguishable from the ruste of leaves. And then a voice sounded like the flow of water: "More enticingly; Who are you?"

Luckily they were more outraged than naive so they ignored the creature's question and doubled down: "Why did you just stand there as that coyote attacked me!?"

"What coyote?", the voice asked unfathomable, smiling everlastingly, now a little more visible.

"The one that was just-" But was it? They think. Had it really been there? It was gone when they looked back but they didn't hear any rustling or paws hitting the soil. Their eyes fell back to the still bleeding flesh wound on their leg. Part of it was definitely real!

"Oh dear, you're injured.", the creature commented. Always in the same inscrutable tone of voice. "That doesn't look so good."

"Yes! It also hurts. Now either you help me get out of this forest and to a doctor or leave me alone!"

"Hmm.", the creature mused, as if overturning Whumpees ultimatum. "Well what would I get in return?"

"Wh-What!? I'm literally bleeding right now, what type of person do you have to be in order to not help somebody injured with a flesh wound unless you get something out of it!?". they ranted.

"-I'm sorry I didn't quite catch it before. Could you give me your name again?", the creature interrupted casually.

"Wha-Its Whumpee.", they answered puzzled. Taken off guard by the interruption. They sigh annoyed. "Now can we please go!?"

"Whumpee.", the creature drawled out. Repeating the name as if testing how the name felt on their tongue.

Simultaneously Whumpee felt a chill run down their spine.

The creature asked, stepping out of the dense underbush and onto the dirt path.

Now they could finally see their mysterious companion. They were dressed in flowly clothes that, if you looked closely enough, seemed to go back and fourth between cloth and leaves. Autumm coloured leaves, nearly glowing in yellows, oranges and reds were everywhere. Even in the creatures chestnut hair and adorning its iridescent skin. Faint but intricate antlers grew on top of its head.

"Whumpee", they said, repeating the name again. Each time seemingly with more finality. "I'm sure you wouldn't mind standing up now, would you?", they asked.

And despite the pain that was still searing throught Whumpees leg and their disdain at the thought of doing what this egoistic and very weird looking person asked their body obeyed. Standing up on shaky legs and wincing as weight was applied to the wound.

"Now, follow me if you wouldn't mind.", they ordered and took a couple steps back, fully crossing between the two foundlings and beckoning a now very unsettled Whumpee closer.

"What-What's happening?", Whumpee asked. Their body starting to move after the person.

"I'm simply...Trying to help you, of course. If you would please follow me into this circle right here.", they commanded. Taking another step back into what appears to be a naturally grown circle of mushrooms. Venemous ones on top of that.

And despite Whumpees best attempts to regain control over their own body they followed it. "Iii would rather not, thank you." Through those two stones and into the circle. Their eyes widended. Oh no. Of course they had heard of the stories, the fabels and joke-warnings. Speaking of fairy circles and stolen babies, changlings and abductions from deep within the forest through magical hand but they never believed that it would be real! Or that it would happen to them! It couldn't. Right? "You-You're…a fairy?", they finally mustered up as their foot was already inside the circle.

The creature smiled, or much rather bared their teeth at them, pointy and sharp looking. "Oh my dear little human, I'll give you this bit of information for free. I'm a Fae." And with that they grapped the human's arm with their long fingers and pulled them completely into the circle. "And by telling me your name you sold yourself to me!", they explained gleefully.

Whumpee's face turned ash-white but as they opened their mouth to…yeah to do what? To portest? To plead for their life? The Fae put a long, iridescent hand over their eyes and effectively silenced them in the process.

"Sssh. There will be more time for talking later. Now let's go to a doctor and then home.", they smiled wickedly and the world outside of the circle seemed to shift. Colour dots lengthening into brushes and contours blurring until. It all suddenly stopped again. The Fae took their hand off of Whumpee's eyes and graciously allowed them to see again.

They had to blink against the light when they opened their eyes again. It hadn't been this bright before, has it? But then they finally really looked. And Oh Gods! Everything looked different! Where were they!?

"Welcome to the Fae Wild little mortal!"

Taglist: @ailesswhumptober, @yourlocalgaefae33, @princessofhe11, @greatkittencloud, @bisexuawolfsalt, @shattermind-8

[avvail-whumps]

Fae AU??? Like with all the fae glamours and tricks and rigged “games” and maybe the whole thing where if you eat the food there you can never leave…

Leo knew he wasn’t meant to be out in the forest alone. He also knew that he was bound to step into a hidden trap, laid out for unsuspecting little humans that were certain to fall victim to them.

Part of him had never believed the stories growing up. So, maybe he could blame it on being slightly naive, when his eyes were drawn to a cluster of mushrooms.

He had thought the little circle they formed was pretty to look at; it wasn’t a suprise he found himself hopping into it, smiling slightly to himself to ease the tension of being lost. He admired the large ring for a long while, before gazing up at the sky.

It would be getting dark soon.

The wise thing to do would be to start finding his way back, hopefully before the sun set and the moon rose into the sky. He had been about to start moving, when a sudden crackle of a twig made his head whirl around.

Leo’s heart fluttered in his throat at the sight of a man by the tree, gazing at him intensely. He couldn’t help but let out a suprised breath, a hand instinctively pressing against his chest from the scare.

“You scared me,” he breathed shakily, avoiding the man’s intense stare. There was long, tense pause, before the strange man seemed to smile. There was something peculiar about him, this uncanny aura flowing from him, but Leo noted that he was pretty handsome. Alluringly handsome, in fact, and he found himself stealing glimpses at him on occasion.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he hummed, stepping away from the tree and closer to the ring. His feet stopped just outside of it, but Leo stayed planted where he was. “Are you lost?”

There was something a little odd about the man. Leo could feel his gut instincts stirring in his stomach, his hairs pricking on edge. He hesitantly licked his lips, feeling somewhat awkward now.

“Uh, no,” he answered back, trying to keep his voice from wobbling. He wondered how the man had so easily snuck up on him. Like he’d just appeared from thin air. “I’m on my way home.”

The man’s lip curved up into an amused smirk. His eyes were so intense that he forced himself to look elsewhere, swallowing nervously.

“You’re a bit far out, you know,” the man shrugged. Leo glanced at him, noting how his demeanour had seemed to shift, and he looked a little bit more normal. That unease pricking at the back of his neck seemed to lift, and the knot in his stomach untangled itself. Leo had been in a world of his own. The man was staying far enough away from him, at least.

“I know,” he breathed, rubbing his fingers together awkwardly. “That’s why I should probably go.”

The man hummed. Leo, for some reason, felt glued to the very spot he was standing on. He didn’t really want the man out of his sights if he could help it; his eyes were incredibly intense whenever he was trapped in his gaze.

“What’s your name?”

Leo’s eyebrows rose slightly. They furrowed in confusion after a second, eyes darting to the ground. “Oh, it’s...” He hesitated. “Leo.”

“Leo?” The man hummed, his lip curving up into an amused smirk. At the sound of his name, Leo immediately pricked up, a strange sensation washing over him. It fell right down to the bottom of his stomach, and he could feel his forehead becoming clammy from the sudden outburst of anxious nerves. The man chuckled.

“Is that...funny?” Leo grumbled under his breath, a little embarrassed. He waved a hand airily.

“I don’t think you’d find it very humourous, little lion.”

Leo frowned. Little what—?

His feet shuffled backwards as the man took a step forward, crossing the ring of mushrooms.

“Okay, I think I’m going to go,” Leo hurriedly whispered, violently trying to shake off the sudden impatient surge from his body. “Thank you for your concern.”

Leo spun around hastily to make a dash through the trees. He didn’t make it step out of the ring though, because what he was looking at wasn’t trees. There were no trees. He blinked slowly, registering the gentle brush of wind on his cheeks. His eyes raked around, and his stomach dropped straight to his boots.

He wasn’t in the forest anymore. Whatever land he was in, was a breathtakingly beautiful one. A watercolored sky, painted with light blues that melted beautifully into each other. Perfect hills of fresh, green grass, and the rush of a flowing lake by the flowers.

Leo’s mouth went dry, and a coil of absolute terror stabbed through his heart. The mushroom ring. The stories.

His eyes found the man’s, all coy and fox-like.

“I told you my name,” he whispered in horror under his breath. The man hummed under his breath, smirking.

“Yes, you did.”

A stray tear rolled down his cheek. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No, little lion,” he murmured softly, easing forward so he was close enough to touch him. Leo went to jerk away, despite the fuzziness and the lightheadedness, but the man was quick to stop him.

“Don’t move, Leo.”

So he didn’t.

He didn’t exactly have a choice. Even the air was sweet smelling, so much that it was making him dizzy. The man’s fingers were gently wiping away the tears with the gentlest of touches, his other hand tangling within his own.

Leo could feel himself being pulled along, and it was as though his legs weren’t even attached to his own body. The man—the creature, the fae—was taking him somewhere, inside a house, the sudden burst of delicious smells overwhelming his senses. Leo’s slack expression nearly brightened up when he was welcomed by a long table stacked with food.

There was everything there. Anything he could have dreamt of. The man’s hand eased along his lower back, making shivers tingle up his spine.

In a blink, he realised he’d crossed the room, and he was already holding an apple in his hand. Leo suddenly jolted, snapping out of it, jerking away from the man’s grip.

“Take me back,” he demanded, and realised that tears had been rolling down his cheeks without even realising since he arrived here. His hand felt itchy, trying not to let the panic shake his voice. “Please. Please, I’m begging you.”

“I can hear that, lion,” the man purrred, motioning to the food. “I’ll take you back. Unless you’d like to eat.”

Leo’s frantic brain tried to remember the rules. There were rules to this. What was it? Don’t give up your name? Don’t bargain? Don’t—

He heaved on a sob, craning away from his touch once again. “Please let me go.”

“You can eat a little before you go,” the man pressed, his head tilting to the side. His eyes slid down to the apple clenched in his hand, so tightly his knuckles had gone white. “A bite won’t hurt. Go on, little lion. Just a taste.”

Those words were like a haunting little whisper in his ear. An enticing, tempting command for him to battle with valiantly. Leo opened his mouth to say something, to refuse and to find his way out of this stunning, perfect, extravagant land, but there was a sudden burst of sweetness on his tongue and—

Oh. He was eating the apple.

Leo’s eyes flickered up in horror.

Now he remembered the rules.

And from the look on the fae’s face, he knew it too.

[cepheusgalaxy]

Ok, but imagine a fae whumper who forces whumpee to eat fae food.

Now they can't ever run away.

[blooming-bruises]

Echo wanted to touch it. He wanted to pull on that fine, platinum hair and see the eyes that were currently hidden below lashes and lids widen as they looked up at him. He wanted to see what flowers could bloom on that porcelain skin under his fingers.

[loonybun]

I like to imagine faerie magic that’s used on humans has similar vibes to the myth of the lotus eaters if that makes any sense. Just a divine sense of sweetness and peace that makes you forget any worries you’ve ever had. In fact, it makes you forget a lot of things. Why go through the trouble of thinking when you don’t need to? You’re at peace now, after all.

This would probably be specifically after giving a faerie your name, not before. They can only really start to affect people based on how much power they hold over them, after all. And if they want to put your mind at rest, there’s no better way to do it. You feel taken care of, safe, and blissful.

[bilightningwhumper]

Duct Tape- Rex (Boy)

For Issue No 38 of @whumpers-monthly

A Hero's Promise Masterlist

CW/TW: blood, fictional racism, dehumanization, implied transphobia, implied fade-to-black noncon ending

[Some context: Boy (later to be named Rex) is a rescued to-be-reformed villain, but not all the heroes are happy about that]

Boy

“Grab it!”

Boy didn’t have time to react as his arm was yanked had before he was thrown into a nearby supply closet. They let him go, but not before pushing him into the shelves on the back wall. He winced, gripping the shelves to stay upright, his ribs screaming. The door shut with a firm snap behind three masked men. Two stood over him while the third locked the door.

“Wha- ugh!”

Stars danced in his eyes as he fell to the floor, his jaw throbbing.

“Shut up, fae scum.”

He couldn’t tell which of the men were talking. Probably the one who punched him.

“Make sure it doesn’t have any weapons on it.”

Kicking out, Boy tried to stand again, only to be pinned to the floor by a boot on his back, grinding into his spine. Still, he struggled despite it.

These were supposed to be the good guys. Harper told him that. So what was going on? There was no way they didn’t know he wasn’t allowed weapons. So why would he have one? Why attack him? Had he done something wrong leaving the assessment?

“Help! Somebody, hel- guh-”

Another boot swung into his line of vision, hitting him square in the nose. He could taste iron. Hopefully it wasn’t broken.

“I told you to shut up, bastard. Where’s the… here.”

The sound of thick tape being unwound and ripped was his only warning before duct tape was forced over his mouth as his head was held in place.

He couldn’t breathe. Pain radiated through his limbs. It only got worse as they wrenched his arms up behind his back. More duct tape was wrapped tight around his wrists. They rolled him over, making it harder to breathe through his blood-clogged nose. Those groping hands made their way up his sides to- fuck. Fuck!

“Somethin’ on his chest, boss.”

The assumed leader of the crew’s eyes glittered through the slit in his mask. “Well, well, looks like the fairy is hiding something. Tear its shirt off and let’s see what we find.”

Boy’s eyes widened as he kicked out again, trying to get free even as spots danced in his eyes. “Mmm, mmm!”

It was no use.

They hauled up by his arms, the leader left to rip his flimsy shirt down the middle. All of them froze as they took in the binder around his chest.

He glared at them, trying to hold onto some kind of dignity. Even if his vision was going in and out of focus, he just needed to hang on. Just until someone… No, those were the good guys. Someone would save him… Right?

His resolve quickly crumbed as the leader spoke, a smile clear in his smug voice. “Well, boys, looks like we have a special treat on our hands.”

Everything went dark after that.

I haven't made a masterlist yet, so let me know if you want to be on a taglist for A Hero's Promise before (or after) I do. [now made the masterlist, but you're still welcome to ask to be on the taglist!]

[auroragehenna]

AI-less Whumptober

Day 24 - Trauma Thursday (Deconditioning, relapse, “It’s normal that you need more time.”)

OC Sam

TW/CW: Supernatural trauma, day prompts, implied past whump, implied past trauma Word count: 359

Sam was sitting outside under a street lamp on a small wall. Their paranoia was really bad this evening and their senses were running hot so it was just as unsafe at home as it was outside or anywhere else for that matter.

When things went hot without them able to do something about it they preferred to be at least there anyway. It gave them any semlance of control, even if course it didn't.

A cold wind blew past Sam and moved their curles.

It was terrifying. Being outside during the night, and so close to the forest as well. But the memories and the wounds burned inside of them. For a moment they drowned in the thought that "maybe I should really just go back. It would stop the constant nagging and it would calm the burning of the wound inside. I know how they're gonna act anyways. Can't be that bad, right?" Sam shook their head violently. They shouldn't think that. Demons, fae, angels, they're all the same crap. And they're all abusive! They can't be trusted.

Suddenly their thoughts quieted, even their fingers stopped picking at the skin of their legs. They felt very peaceful, body and mind. For an entire beautiful minute they allowed themselves to get lulled into this peace until they managed to tear out of it again. Quickly standing up and walking away. "Oh absolutely not."

The feeling of peace decimated.

Sam dropped their shoulders when they got far enough away. They were still so stupid! So guillable! The more empathatic part of themselves started to think more positive thoughts: "You're being too hard on yourself. What were you supposed to do? By the time you noticed, it was far too late. They're supernatural creatures, It’s normal that you need more time." "Yeah it would just be helpful if I could actually talk to someone about it..."

Out of pure frustration they turned their flashlight on and took the route home through the forest. Effectively terrifying themselves to death but they didn't get kidnapped. Only toyed with...As strange dreams and visions followed them weeks after.

That's what they got for relapsing.

@ailesswhumptober, @yourlocalgaefae33, @greatkittencloud, @bisexuawolfsalt

[whump-me-all-night-long]

“Do not make me repeat myself.”

"Do not make me repeat myself." The fae's voice was calm but there was a whisper of pain and death underneath.

Still, the human continued to thrash about in their restraints: unnaturally strong vibes with unsettlingly sharp thorns. Blood dripped slowly from their arms, streaks of red painting their skin before dampening the ground beneath them.

"Or what?" they snarled, indignation coloring their words. "You better let me the fuck go. Do you even know who I am?"

The fae smiled, showing off rows of needle-like teeth. "Of course I know the spoiled heir apparent of the human lands," they said, as if the human has just said something ridiculously asinine. "While your people may enjoy living in ignorant bliss, my people were once unable to afford such a... luxury." They gave a graceful shrug of their shoulders. "Now, we know better, and we like to keep an eye on our neighbors."

Pride radiating off of them, the humans sat up straighter. "So you do know who I am," they said triumphantly. "Therefore, you should know that if I am not returned, with a hefty apology at that, then you are dooming your... people to a long and bloody war that you will not win."

The fae laughed, the sound like the tinkling of bells in a light summer breeze, right before a lightning storm. "I may know who you are," they said softly, leaning forward and lifting their head with a single long pale finger. "But you have no idea who I am."

--

Taglist: @itsleelove

[cepheusgalaxy]

Runaway

This is my first prompt.

~I'm a writer but this is my first time writing in english. Hope you enjoy! I'm not posting more than this anyway~

The colors blurred in and out as the kid ran.

Whumpee couldn’t trust their eyes, they knew. That forest wasn’t normal. They couldn’t look for anything to guide them, either.

So they ran. Without looking back.

While that, Whumper, their master - no, their former master. They were out. Or at least close that - let out the guard dogs.

He wouldn’t let his petite little jewel run.

How silly of them, his little Whumpee, trying to run away in his own territory. Every single tree and rock was on his side. Whumpee couldn’t take a step without their master knowing. With a move of his finger, the forest could become a ruthless labyrinth with claws and thorns.

Whumpee knew that.

Yet, the kid ran.

[loonybun]

Meeting Aisling (CYOA) 2

sorry i am a VERY slow writer and work on bursts of inspiration and writing sprints so this took FOREVER to write. anyways here it is.

contains: more fae shenanigans, implied magical manipulation, exhaustion, fae carewhumper, invasion of personal space, abduction, The Horrors (fun stuff because my canon doesn’t 100% follow traditional folklore as i like to add things in), just creepy vibes but i’m sure everything will be fine and he’s actually 100% harmless. most definitely!!!

—————————————————

“A photographer?”

He lights up and grabs onto your hands. Almost immediately, he lets go, but the fuzzy sensation dwells on your palm. The strange man continues on.

“That’s not something you hear everyday! I don’t know a ton about photography, but I may have seen some of your… Your picture-things! I never caught your name, actually. Would you mind giving that to me really quick?”

You can’t place why, but words send a shudder down your spine. Somewhere deep in your mind an alarm rings.

He’s still a stranger. You don’t give out your name to strangers. That’s just common sense. Sure, he seems friendly enough, but better safe than sorry. Instead, you give him the handle you use for your photography. That’s probably the main reason he was asking, anyway.

He’s obviously disappointed, but you decide to ignore the guilt. There’s an awkward silence before he speaks up again.

“—Well, follow me. Let’s get you somewhere safer, okay? You can call me Ai, by the way, but not like the ones you see with. Weird little nickname, but it’s what most people call me anyways. Unless we want to be formal with each other, but that doesn’t really seem necessary.”

His enthusiasm returns, and before you know it you’re practically chasing him through the dark forest. It’s hard to catch up with the way he deftly darts from tree to tree. You can hear him laugh as you fail to match his pace, and the sound echoes through the forest like the chimes of crystal bells, bouncing off of the trees.

Eventually, you manage to run up to him. He’d stopped to wait for you, and now he was sitting in the grass, grinning up at you strangely. The exhaustion overwhelms any urge to find the source of your anxiety. You’re still trying to catch your breath, and you soon find yourself down beside him. Ai pats the top of your head, patiently waiting for you to regain your strength.

“…The grass here seems so much softer. You don’t know why, do you? That’s okay. We’ll find out soon.” He murmurs, combing through your hair with nimble fingers. “Do you have your camera? You should take a picture-thing. This is a nice little spot. You probably won’t be able to find it again.”

You hadn’t even noticed, too concentrated on the soothing tones in his voice. You’d nearly fallen asleep right there. Oh god, you just cuddled up to a complete stranger. After a moment, you pull your thoughts together and focus on the area around you.

There’s still no signs of the campsites, but the area he’s brought you to feels safe all the same. Moonbeams stream in through gaps in the canopy above. The white light pours onto the plants around, casting them all into an ethereal state. You take your camera out of your bag and turn it on, eagerly looking at the screen—

But something’s wrong. Pink ebbs into the edges of the screen, and the middle keeps splitting into bars. You point the camera around in an effort to reset it. Ai curiously watches you struggle, that same odd smile still placed on his lips. For a moment, the camera pans over to him— or what should have been him. The bars on the screen seem to multiply and crack, barely obscuring something unfathomable and buglike. You look at the terrifyingly beautiful entity on the screen, then back to him. You hadn’t noticed his teeth before. They really shouldn’t be that sharp, should they?

“Is something wrong?” His voice still sounds so sweet. It makes you feel woozy. Sick. That thing wasn’t human. Where were you? The woods hadn’t even began to thin out. Had he taken you further in?

You shake your head, but you must have taken too long to respond. Once again, he’s by your side, a hand on your shoulder and the other positioned in front of the lens. He’s not smiling anymore.

Ai’s hold on your shoulder becomes firm, uncomfortable and tight.

“…—I didn’t… I didn’t know it did that. Huh. Well— I’ve dragged this out long enough. I was hoping you’d get a few last photos of your world though… Just as a keepsake. Oh well, Maybe it’s for the best.”

A surge of panic shoots through your body. You immediately push him away, stumbling back in the process. You need to get away. Fast. Whatever he meant couldn’t be anything good. Did he want to kill you? Why did he wait?

He’s picked up on your panic.

“Woah, woah! Hey! I don’t want to hurt you. It’s not like that, okay? I just— I need you to come with me. It’ll be an adventure! Humans still like adventuring, right?” The thing’s slowly getting closer to you. You don’t wait to hear whatever he says next. All you can do now is run. Keep running until you find some way out of this place.

Despite your exhaustion, you keep moving, weaving between the trees and taking as many turns as possible. Anything to get him off of your trail. You can hear him behind you. It doesn’t seem like he’s running, though. There aren’t any footsteps.

WHAM. A branch collides with your forehead, and you immediately fall back onto the ground. You need to get up. You need to get up now.

It’s already too late.

He scoops you up effortlessly, ignoring your desperate flailing.

“Oh, ouch... That looked like it hurt. Hopefully it’ll only leave a small bruise. Anyways, I feel like I’m leaving a really bad first impression. You wouldn’t mind giving me a do-over once we get home, right? I mean— I feel like it was going well! Up until you got all freaked out. Not your fault, but next time maybe don’t run off like that.”

He doesn’t look human anymore. You’re looking into the slit pupils of some otherworldly being. It hurts to think too hard about it. It hurts to think at all.

He carries you back over to the spot you two had been before, taking you a bit further. Dread fills your stomach as he steps into the center of a ring of mushrooms and the world begins to melt around you. You can hear him whispering some reassurances to you, but you can’t process what he’s saying. Your eyelids feel so heavy. You don’t resist when he kisses your forehead, causing you to drift away entirely.

Sleep takes you under. It’s a relief. Nothing hurts anymore.

-

-

Your eyelids slowly open, glazing over your new surroundings. Sunlight streams in through a hole in the ceiling, as well as a window that has been thoroughly wrapped in vines. The bedroom is luxurious, but definitely not in any traditional sense.

There’s a large tree in the very center of the room. It’s a grandiose thing with slim leaves and dramatic pink flowers. It looks well taken care of. Still, it’s a weird decoration to have in the middle of a bedroom.

The man— or whatever it was— that brought you here is nowhere to be seen. That’s probably for the best. It gives you more time to find a way out of this place.

You notice the door parallel to the bed and immediately make your way over to it. Locked. You’re not sure what else you expected.

So that settles it. You’ve been taken hostage by some weird magical creature for god knows why and you have no way of knowing where you are. At least he hadn’t restrained you. You could still escape. Things weren’t over yet.

taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added!!): @whumpy-wyrms @inkwell-and-dagger @lordcatwich @kawaii-cakes

[macknus]

A Benignant Mischief (I)

While I work on the next part of the series, enjoy some of the updated version for refreshers :)

*~*~*~*~*

Cosimo ran through the forest with a sharp urgency, an unconscious boy cradled close to his chest as he went. The rain pattered down on his head as he ran, bare feet clawing at the ground to keep his grip. To an onlooker he could have been running on plain terrain instead over the wiry and rough forest, leaves slick with water; as if he were one with the Earth; knew every root, every nettle and broken tree bows that he hopped over with graceful ease.  

His sharp eyes searched the forest frantically, pleading for a shelter to open up to them. Ahead was a wooden barricade, tree branches crisscrossing with hedges and leaves before him like a blockade. Cosimo bowed his head and turned to the side, curling his upper body around the smaller one in his arms. Branches snapped and scratched at him as he pushed his way through with a determined resolve.  

When he finally emerged from the branches, he found what he knew would be waiting for him. A small burrow made in a circle of trees, an opening in the trunk of a thick Elfbow tree, the size of three fully grown oaks. A shelter mercifully presenting itself. Cosimo let out a soft sigh and whispered a soft thank you to the forest for providing.  

His limbs grew heavier and heavier the closer he got to rest, but he walked on, slower now, but just as strong as he was when he set out from court. He lay the boy in his arms down on a bed of leaves for the moment under the shelter of the Elfbow. Cosimo touched the trunk as he entered, his heart feeling full as he did.  

“Thank you protecting us,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to the entrance. He pressed his knuckles against the unconscious boy’s forehead, letting out a soft sigh. He was okay. Not as hot as he before. Cosimo would gather food and herbs tomorrow to help the fever, but at least he was stable for now.  

Cosimo took off his pack that he had hastily gathered from home. Two blankets, two pillows, a canteen of water, a hunting knife — just the essentials.  

“The very bare necessities, Cosimo,” Cosimo chastised with a sigh, running a hand through his soaked hair flicking the rain from it. Cosimo put a pillow under the boy’s head and wrapped him in a blanket to keep him warm. Cosimo sat with his back against the trunk of the tree, arms wrapped around his knees that he hugged to his chest. He watched the rain patter down on leaves outside the Elfbow. The gloomy grey of the evening bled into a darker, broodier grey but the rain let up before night fell with its coat of deep purples and midnight blues.  

Cosimo didn’t know at what point he fell asleep, but he woke to footsteps cracking the leaves beneath its feet and he was immediately alert. His hand shot and grabbed the hunting knife, unsheathing it and lunging forward into a deep crouch, teeth bared.  

He came nose to snout with a fox that was frozen in place, brown eyes meeting Cosimo’s with a slightly dazed and stunned glimmer to them. Cosimo let out a breath that reflected on the air with a rolling wave of smoke, before settling back into the nook-like shelter of the Elfbow. The fox didn’t retreat, instead he sniffed the air and timidly took a step towards Cosimo and the unconscious boy beside him.  

Cosimo inclined his head slightly and the fox entered the Elfbow with all the inquisitiveness of a cat trying to sniff out the source of fish. The fox turned his head to the boy, and glancing back at Cosimo quickly for permission he climbed up on the unconscious boy’s chest, curling into a little ball on top of him, deep brown eyes meeting Cosimo’s again before closing half-lidded.  

Emotion clogged Cosimo’s throat as he reached out to pet the fox, allowing the animal to sniff his hand before allowing the affection.  

“See?” Cosimo whispered to the sleeping boy. “You’re not nobody. You’re like me.”  

Cosimo didn’t sleep exactly, but he at least got some semblance of rest before dawn broke, and he woke with it. He looked down at the sleeping boy, the fox had moved from his chest and was curled up to the boy’s side. Cosimo reached his hand out and brushed the boy’s damp hair back from his forehead.

He was warm, not too hot. Maybe the fever had passed with the rain? Cosimo didn’t know enough about it, but he knew the rejuvenation powers of rain that came with him so he suspected maybe it could be the saviour of the boy too.  

Cosimo drank some water from the canteen before grabbing the empty rucksack he took with him and slinging it over his shoulder across his body. He took the water and the hunting knife and set off about the day. When he exited the Elfbow the sun was only starting to rise, birds heralding the morning.  

Cosimo looked back to the sleeping boy and the fox. He pressed his hand to the tree and leaned his forehead against his knuckles.  

Protect them, please. I’ll return with food.  

Cosimo felt the rush of feeling that flooded him when he was surrounded by nature. He took one last glance at the boy before he turned and walked out of the small clearing and into the embrace of the forest again. He remembered hearing rushing water when he was running with the boy, the sound distinct from the patter of the rain.  

The dense woods were not nearly as imposing as they were the night before, when Cosimo’s thoughts were on finding shelter and nothing else. There should be some mushrooms nearby he could roast, maybe some berry bushes if he was lucky, and water. Not enough to feed them properly, but to sustain them? It would be enough.  

Cosimo found the stream under a thicket of leaves. It was slightly lower than the ground Cosimo was on, so he simply extended a leg and slid down the bank to the stream, opening his canteen as he went. His feet settled into the damp earth, and he crouched down to refill the canteen. Not before drinking the last of the remaining water.  

He heard a huff from his left so Cosimo glanced towards the sound and saw a horse lapping up water from the stream. Cosimo froze like the fox the night before, before kicking himself into action. He sprung up, canteen forgotten in the stream and bolted back up the bank, his fingers clawing into the clay.  

He scrambled to the top and was met with a pair of legs. There was a flash and a pressure on his chest and Cosimo was airborne, gravity grabbing at him and bringing him down hard into the outer bank of the stream. Cosimo let out a gasp of air on impact but quickly sprung to his feet and turned to hop the stream to the other side.  

A hand grabbed him by the strap of his rucksack, and he was yanked backwards. “Hey! Wait!” Cosimo cried, bringing an elbow back sharply and his head back too. He slipped under the strap of his bag and grabbed the hunting knife, hopping over the stream with ease. He didn’t look back.  

Humans were bad. They killed people like him, there shouldn’t even be any for miles around!  

Cosimo climbed up the opposite bank of earth with deft speed and hoisted himself to the other side, knife ready in one hand, the sheath in his other with one thought and one thought only — to go back to the boy in the Elfbow.  

He didn’t account for more soldiers to be on the other side of the stream. Cosimo froze again when he was first recognised by another man. They were all fully grown humans. Fully grown male humans. Cosimo had yet to pass his fifteenth year, at least he had a slight boost in height, but he was too skinny to fight.  

There wasn’t time to think before a hand was bunched in his shirt again. Cosimo whirled on his heel, slashing out blindly with the knife. The blade cut into the soldier’s cheek Cosimo realised with wide eyes, and the Soldier let him go. Cosimo fell to the side at the sudden lack of force holding him, but quickly got his bearings again and ran to the right of the soldier’s camp.  

An arrow whizzed by his ear, startling him and Cosimo lunged to the left only to be caught with a kick to his leg. Cosimo stumbled but remained standing, turning to his new attacker baring his teeth only to get a punch to the face. Cosimo’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as he fell, stiff as an oak onto the forest floor.  

A boot stomped down onto Cosimo’s wrist wielding the knife and Cosimo cried out, reaching over with his free hand to paw at the boot but it wouldn’t budge. A knee to the chest followed and Cosimo cried out, trying to wiggle himself free but the human was too heavy. Whether his weight was from his diet, or the weight from his uniform of metal Cosimo didn’t know.  

“Well, well, well,” the human man remarked. Cosimo swallowed the lump in his throat, struggling to free himself from the man’s pin. “You’re only a baby, aren’t you?”  

Cosimo bared his teeth in response. They were so close to where Cosimo had left the boy and the fox, and he prayed that the Elfbow would protect them from the soldiers.  

“Let go of me,” Cosimo demanded, eyes blazing up at the man. The man smiled, something wicked twinkling in his eyes.  

“Have you run away from home? You do know what we do to your people in these parts, don’t you?”  

Cosimo let out a cry of frustration at trying and failing pathetically to free himself from the man’s grip.  

“Please,” Cosimo said. “I don’t mean you any harm. I was just coming for water.”  

“Won’t do harm my arse,” the soldier that Cosimo cut ground out, fury winding his features tight. Cosimo didn’t see him lift his leg, but his head whipped to the side with the impact. Cosimo righted his head too early as the man he injured stomped a foot down on Cosimo’s face.  

Cosimo heard the bones in his nose crack inside his head while he screamed out loud, a quiet whimper following after his scream died in his throat.  

“Hey!” The soldier pinning Cosimo growled. “You can’t kill him. He must be brought to court before their execution.”  

Execution?  

Cosimo’s struggles to break free renewed at the thoughts of the soldiers taking him away from the boy. “No! No, you can’t! I can’t leave the forest, please!”  

The man above him tilted his lips down into a frown. “Sorry kid. Orders are orders, we have to bring ya in.”  

“Don’t talk to it like it’s a child,” the angry soldier scolded. The man on top of him reached over and plucked the knife from Cosimo’s grip. Cosimo let out a soft whine at the object of his defence leaving his grasp.  

“Just get the irons and let me deal with h—” the man above him said, then corrected himself, glancing down at Cosimo with a frown. “It.”  

The angry man stormed off out of sight. Cosimo swallowed hard and stared above at the man pining him to the forest floor.  

“Please…” Cosimo tried. “Please don’t kill me.”  

“Like I said kid,” said the man. “There has to be a trial in front of the king.”  

Cosimo’s eyes widened significantly. There wasn’t a king for miles around court… how far had Cosimo travelled, and in what direction? The question lingered on his tongue, and he wanted to voice it, but thought better of asking the enemy… or even worse, letting them know just how clueless Cosimo really was.  

The man stared down at Cosimo with a stern glance. “I’m going to get you to sit up, if you try to escape, we will catch you, and the other soldiers will hurt you again. Do you understand?”  

Cosimo nodded. He hated himself for it, but he had to listen to this man if he didn’t want to die. He couldn’t die or else the boy would die too, he’s the only one who knew where he was, he was stupid for running away. So stupid! What was he thinking?

He stared at the man above him as he moved his knee from Cosimo’s chest. He seemed to be the only one who didn’t want him dead at that moment. The angry soldier returned with two bands of metal attached together with a thick link of metal between them.  

“What— what are they?” Cosimo asked, his voice cracking with fear. The soldier helped Cosimo to sit up which caused a wicked amount of pain in his nose to flare up and Cosimo grunted with the effort.  

The man took the metal from the angry soldier and dismissed him with a wave. The other soldier didn’t want to listen but obeyed the man when he told him to go verbally.  

The man opened the metal loop and showed it to Cosimo, saying with a reassuring smile: “They open like this, see?”  

Cosimo leaned in closer to inspect the metal. “What do they do?” He asked, a little less scared at seeing them up close. The man lifted his hand and put the metal over his own wrist.  

“They tighten over your wrist like this, see? They lock— well, they essentially keep your hands tied behind your back so you can’t hurt someone again.”  

Not have use of his hands. Cosimo shook his head vehemently. “No. No. I won’t hurt anyone else; I promise. Don’t put them on me.”  

The man’s smile faded back into a frown. “I’m sorry, but I have to. Please don’t fight me. I don’t want you getting hurt again.”  

Cosimo was trembling in the man’s hands, but he nodded his consent for the man to grab Cosimo’s wrist. Cosimo screamed when the metal touched his wrist and bolted back away from the man.  

“Wait! Please! Please! Wait! Ow, please! I won’t hurt anyone!” The man caught Cosimo’s ankle before he could get further away from him and dragged him back across the damp ground. Cosimo clawed the soil, trying to gain any purchase, but the man was strong, and the earth wasn’t helping him escape. “Please don’t. Please! I’ll be good.”  

A shadow crossed the man’s face as he grabbed Cosimo’s arm and pulled it behind Cosimo’s back before locking the second cuff around Cosimo’s wrist.  

Cosimo let out a hiss as the metal burned a circle around his wrists, tears coming to his eyes. “Please, I’m sorry. Take them off. I’m sorry. What— agh! What is it?!”  

The man grabbed Cosimo’s arms to stop him struggling more and hurting himself. “Iron. It’s a metal that is poisonous to your kind.”  

“Please,” Cosimo whispered, the plea coming out soft and childish, fat tears trailing down his cheeks. “Please take them off.”  

“I can’t,” said the man. “I’m sorry,” and it sounded like he meant it. The man got to his feet and waited patiently for Cosimo to do the same. Cosimo pushed himself up, his balance off and he hissed as he moved his hands to catch himself. All they touched was iron and it burned. The man put a hand under Cosimo’s armpits once he saw the boy struggling and helped him into a standing position.  

“Thank you,” Cosimo said, the words like ash on his tongue. Thanking humans now? What would court think of him? His mind trailed back to the boy in the Elfbow, and guilt flood his body as he was pushed forward gently by the man.  

“Change of plan, boys. We are bringing this one back to the King.”  

One of the other men stood up, his face the shape of a weasel’s; small wisps of hair clung to his upper lip and chin in what Cosimo could only assume was supposed to be a beard and a moustache. The soldier lifted his nose high in the air when he looked up at Cosimo, grinning up at him and revealing yellowing teeth.  

“It’s not even fully grown,” said the soldier with a high-pitched voice. The nice man holding Cosimo scoffed and pushed Cosimo forward again.  

“Either are you, McClagen.” The soldier holding him said, earning laughs from the other soldiers.

“Does it know that we kill things like that?” McClagen sneered. The man didn’t reply, but Cosimo’s fate weighed heavy on him, heavier than a cloak made of stone.  

[clickerflight]

Clove: Part 27 - Alliance

Sup! Another one! This is another thing that has popped out from nowhere, but enjoy the lore that I myself learned about my own story today.

Masterlist - Part 26

Content: Fae whumpers, mentioned non consensual touching, pretty chill this time

....................................................

Ephraim was so incredibly grateful to see the palace appear from out of the fog. He’d found the body, confirmed with the Queen that Jack did kill the fae after he’d smelled the sorcerer all over the bloody remains, and now just barely kept within the procession as they made their way to the palace. 

He wanted to check on Hyrum and ensure he was safe. He wanted to take a long shower and wash out the images of the faes’ possessive hands on his fledgling. He had not seen Benny emerge from the queen’s carriage and doubted she would be letting him out and about any time soon.

He would need to come up with a plan quickly to get Benny away from this place. 

As soon as the procession entered the palace, Ephraim quietly broke away, rushing down the halls and finding his way into the more refined sections to get back to his room, cape fluttering behind him as he ran. 

He reached his rooms and his heart sank when he saw the door partially open. He flung it the rest of the way. 

“Hyrum!” he called, looking around. The cushions on the couch were a little askew, a glass of juice or weird milk spilled across the floor and the scent of fae told Ephraim that his night was not going to be improving anytime soon. 

He snarled, turning for a moment, searching for every detail needed to find Hyrum. 

He could smell a snake. 

Ephraim ran back out into the halls, following the trails as it led to the big ballroom breakfast had taken place in, only to lose the scent as it mixed with that of other fae. 

Ephraim’s instincts were on high alert, rumbles and chuffs escaping from his chest, calling for his child to come back to him as he entered the ball room, looking around desperately for any snake-like fae. 

He pushed past a group, searching fervently for any sign of Hyrum. His heart jumped in his throat when he saw fluffy golden hair, but realized quickly it was a charmed human pet on the arm of a jaguar fae. 

Was Hyrum in a state like that? Was he being paraded around? Was he hurt!?

Ephraim was beginning to spiral when a hand came down on his shoulder gently. “Vampire, what is-”

“Where is he!?” Ephraim snarled, rounding on Kortops and shaking off the gossamer fae’s hand. 

Kortops gave him a look of surprise. “Who? Your pet?”

“My son! He was supposed to be safe! He’s a guest!”

Kortops frowned. “Well, you are certainly a guest, but it could be argued that he isn’t. Now that I think of it, the only protection that you could have afforded him would be calling him your property or your pet, which you clearly refuse to do. He was not in your rooms?”

Ephraim had to swallow down the urge to tear Kortops’s eyes from his head. “No. He wasn’t. I smelled a snake.”

“A snake hmm?” Kortops asked, clearly unbothered by Ephraim’s rage as he fluttered his wings. “Well, that could be Shallumn. He wasn’t in the procession but he is certainly bold enough. I will help you get your pup back, and if you will take my advice, Vampire, I would suggest publicly claiming the child as your property. The queen will not think to give him Guest protection as she thinks, like the rest of us, that he is your pet.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“As nightshade, Vampire. Come. We will find Shallumn.”

Kortops turned quickly, scanning the room before leaving the hall, forcing Ephraim to keep up with him. 

“I can’t believe this,” Ephraim hissed. He had only been here for about a day and a half, but it already felt like years. How in the world was he supposed to survive the next couple of days and get Hyrum and Benny out of this alive?

“You are in a precarious position,” Kortops commented in return, leading the way down halls that Ephraim had not been to yet. 

“What do you care?”

Kortops slowed, letting Ephraim come to his side. He slowed his walk till they stood in a quiet alcove. He searched for words for a moment before he said, “When humans come here, they are alone. You were not. When humans preach about going home, it doesn’t really phase us. We do not properly understand the concept of family, you see. But you came here with the pup, and you do not treat him as a pet and you fight for him. You have been nothing but protective to him, and you have been protective of Benjamin on top of that. It is strange and it intrigues me. That is why I care. This I tell you, under the rules of the Host and Guest, is true.”

Ephraim searched the fae’s face, and only saw sincerity there. Was this a trick? He went over the wording again in his mind and asked, “Is it the only reason you care?”

Kortops smiled, looking almost proud. “Of course not. I am fae. I care about rising in the court and there may be an outcome here that can get me a leg up. But you do intrigue me, and your bond with your pup intrigues me more, so that is the bigger part of the reason.”

“So you will help me and ask for nothing in return?”

“Perhaps something…. But I will explain it later. There is not time now. But it should not harm you.”

“And can you be trusted not to betray me?” Ephraim said darkly. “Can you be trusted to allow Benny to go with me?”

“I will only leave you if you do something that will put me in unreasonable danger if I side with you. And you can have Benny. It has been too long that we have had a vampire as the Queen’s husband and it is causing structural issues that she finds funny.”

Ephraim nodded. “Then I suppose this is an alliance.”

“That it is. We should hurry. I do not trust Shallumn with your pup.”

They found Shallumn coming out of his rooms, long and sinewy and dangerous, and Ephraim was gratified to see Kortops throw him against the wall and pin him there. 

“You have something that isn’t yours,” Kortops said in a sing songy voice. 

Shallumn’s eyes went wide, looking between Kortops and Ephraim, who was approaching with the grace of an angered predator. 

A lazy grin came to his face. “Oh, no. I was keeping an eye on him, sure, but Halia has him.”

“Halia?” Kortops asked, surprised. “What does she want with him?”

“Arm candy, I would assume,” Shallumn purred, but he yelped as Kortops grabbed him by the throat. 

“Liar,” Kortops hissed. 

“She took him from me, I swear!” he said quickly, realizing that he wouldn’t be able to pass off the blame and get Halia in trouble. 

Kortops dropped Shallumn. “Come, Vampire.”

Ephraim paused to kick Shallumn in the ribs, watching him curl in on himself with a whimper before following. 

Kortops slowed again to let Ephraim catch up and said, “Your pup might be safe after all. Halia is eager, but she’s gentler than most fae I know. Let us just hope she doesn’t want anything in return for you pup, but she is much easier to negotiate with than Shallumn.”

“Halia? The name is familiar.”

“She is the fae who spoke out at breakfast and got wilted by the queen.”

“Ah, yes…… Kortops, speaking of names, why do you call me Vampire?” Ephraim was curious now, more than annoyed. 

“It is respectful, no? I am not trying to take your name this way.”

Ephraim was surprised. “Thank you, then. That is courteous of you.”

“Of course. We are allied for the time being… Vampire, we have time to speak of my payment in return for my help as we walk.”

“What?”

Kortops looked vaguely uncomfortable as he said, “The fae have not found any good places to grow our changelings in a long time now. The humans have gotten very good at discovering them and as such we have no children. Fae don’t die easily, but we still do die and we have not had any successful changelings in a century now. They need human love to grow and…. The others are not as concerned as they should be, distracted as they are. I would ask that your village take in my changeling if I help you get home safe with your pup and fledgling intact. I will not take any humans in return as the need is dire. I do apologize for not being outright with it. The fae nature is…. Difficult to overcome.”

Ephraim was surprised. This was incredibly sensitive information. He understood that completely. It also explained why they had been so violent 50 years ago trying to put their changelings in the village. And the interest in Ephraim’s own relationship with his children made sense now, too. 

“Do you want to visit your changeling when they are placed?”

Kortops startled with surprise, looking at Ephraim and then to the floor. “I think…. Yes. I do. I would not be able to rest well knowing my changeling very well may die among a different species because I was trying to do it the traditional way.”

Ephraim nodded. “I’ll see what I can do. I can’t promise anything… But I will try my very best.”

“What are the odds they will allow it?”

Ephraim thought for a moment, a couple of childless couples who were desperately trying coming to mind. “Pretty good, I think. It depends on if the older members of the community will allow it, but I think I will be able to argue your case.”

Kortops nodded, relieved. “Thank you, vampire.”

“That is only if you can help us escape.”

“Of course. I ask a high price, and I will fulfill all that you need from me. I swear it on my name.”

“Good enough, then.” Still. Ephraim would need to be careful.

Part 28

Clove Taglist: @wolfeyedwitch @the-blind-one-speaks @whumpsday @extrabitterbrain @inkkswhumpandstuff 

@honeycollectswhump @whump-blog-reblogs @pigeonwhumps @mj-or-say10 @percy-frayer 

@currentlyinthesprial @scoundrelwithboba @whumps-and-bumps @hellodecisionparalysis

[auroragehenna]

AI-less Whumptober

Day 26 - Sensory Saturday (Electrocution, burning, “This is going to sting.”)

OC Electra

TW/CW: Kidnapping, goverment-induced whump, magical whump, demon whumper, spirit/fae whumpee, fire, electrocution, hunting themed, sadistic whumper, Word count: 496

„When startled the prey might realize the predator is near too early and the hunt is unsuccessful."

"Its a standart mission, they commited a crime and are a threat against the empire. Remove them." "And?" "I don't care what you do with them as long as they stay gone."

Electra quietly entered the hall their target was in, with a snap of their fingers the magical warding and sigils they had drawn sprang to live and started doing their job, effectively restricting just about any usage of music but her own. Now the demoness stepped outside of her hiding space. Dressed in a perfectly fitted blue suit with the white hair pushed out of her face and a katana hanging on her hip.

"Now Whumpee, why don't we do this the easy way and you follow me?", she asked casually approaching the other.

The spirit whipped around, magic flaming up around their body, only to flicker and then go out completely.

Oh, the horror on their face was delicious. "Guess not then. The hard way then.", Electra grinned. "So be it." The demoness snapped her fingers again and threads of electricity flowed out of her fingerips, quickly skippping across the wooden floor and setting it on fire wherever it went.

The spirit looked around panicked, the lightning caused fire had quicly surrounded both of them in a narrow, enclipse shaped space. And despite not being a fire spirit they could tell that wasn't normal fire...Subconsciously they folded their beautiful butterly-eque wings and took one step forward, away from the flames. Unfortunately towards the demon-lady threatening them. "What do you want?!"

"Oh I just need you to come with me, simple."

"I'm not going anywhere with you!"

"Or you can stay here and have first your wings and then the rest of you get electrocuted and burned to a crisp without ever being allowed to die. Absorbed by my magic. Your choice.

"I'm not making a deal with you!", the spirit protested, and they knew they were giving ground with this.

And Electra knew it too. "I'm not asking you to." Next to her she drew the rough outshape of a door into the air, creating a king's blue shimmering portal.

The spirit tried once again to activate their magic but it was pointless. Surely there still had to be some people around, right? "HELP! HELP ME!"

Electra smiled, making another step forward. "Oh silly, nobody can hear you. Its just you and me." She drew the electrocuting fire closer around them both. "And I'm really your best choice here, so just follow me."

The spirit looked around panicked but they couldn't find a way out. Then I just have to way out from wherever she's taking me... And against the screaming in their head they followed the demoness' outstretched and gesturing hand through the portal. Only to end up in a singular room of a mansion that was even more of fortress than the fire enclosure.

I wanted to use this to write an example of how Electra also captures targets when on shadow missions.

Taglist: @ailesswhumptober, @yourlocalgaefae33, @princessofhe11, @greatkittencloud, @bisexuawolfsalt

@shattermind-8

[whump-me-all-night-long]

Midsummer Nightmare

AI-less Whumptober Day 6: Mind Control

Masterlist

TW: fae whumper, human whumpee, mind control, captivity, a bit o' pet whump

---

Arne rose to consciousness slowly, as if he were wading through a thick pool of mud. Darkness seemed to cling to him, reluctant to let him go from its grasps. His memory was hazy, his thoughts indecipherable, his mind resistant to awareness.

Vaguely, he could tell his head was lying on something soft, a thick, fluffy pillow. Had he overslept again? If he was late again, he could very well lose his work. And then how could he take care of his family?

That thought sent his eyes wide open, his body bolting upright in the large canopy bed he found himself in.

Blinking groggily, Arne frowned, looking around. What was he doing here? And where exactly was ‘here’?

He found himself in a large, elegant bedroom. The head of his bed was pressed against the middle of one wall, a large vanity with a gilded mirror and ornately carved backless chair was on the wall opposite him, a couch that seemed to be made of velvet was pressed against another wall, with a bookcase filled with leather-bound tomes next to it. There were three separate doors that Arne could see: one was on the same wall with the couch that appeared to lead into a washroom, if the white marble and claw-foot tub were any indication, one was opposite that door and it seemed to be a small balcony, the door cracked open slightly allowing sunlight to filter in as gauzy curtains swayed slightly from the breeze. The final door was the only one that was closed and it was made of a rich, dark wood with golden gilding marking out intricate designs.

As he looked around, Arne wracked his brain for what could have possibly led him here. He remembered the woods, attempting to hunt, his bounty being pitifully small.

The doe.

That golden-haired stranger.

Ikalos.

Eyes widening and throat constricting, Arne rapidly scrambled out of the bed, struggling to get out due to the number of sheets and blankets atop him and the thick mattress sinking beneath his weight. Finally, he made it to the edge, all but tumbling out.

As he stood on shaking legs, Arne noticed that his clothes had been… replaced? Although he was not sure that what he was currently wearing could even be considered clothing. A thin white shift hung on his bony frame, with a wide neckline, showing his protruding collarbones, and ending a little above his knees. His feet were bare.

As Arne looked around, bewildered, the glint of the door handle turning caught his eyes, and he scrambled back against the far wall, imagining he did not look unlike that doe that he had shot.

The door swung open on silent hinges, and the sunlight reflected off that golden hair as Ikalos stepped inside, smoothly shutting the door behind him.

Arne stiffened, distrust evident in his eyes. “Where am I? What did you do to me?”

Ikalos let out a low chuckle, the sound sending goosebumps down Arne’s spine. “Relax, my dear,” he said, in that same strange lilt. “All will be answered in due time. Please, don’t worry yourself over such trivial matters.” He glided forward, until he was only inches away from Arne, who felt his back straightening almost impossibly more. Ikalos raised a single hand, his fingers unnaturally long and thin, and gently rubbed in between Arne’s eyebrows with two fingers. “You’ll give yourself wrinkles if you keep frowning like that. And you’re such a young beauty too, it would be a shame to throw that away prematurely.”

“Please,” Arne said softly, weakly. “Just let me go. I- I don’t have anything valuable, I’m not worth this sort of effort. Please, just let me go home.”

Ikalos moved his hand downward, so that he was cupping Arne’s cheek softly, rubbing circles with his thumb in what was presumably a comforting manner. “Oh, my dear, you are truly something valuable. You are most definitely worth this effort, and more. And now, my sweet free bird, that I’ve caught you, you won’t be going anywhere for quite some time.”

Shaking his head slightly, Arne shifted, futilely trying to put space in between them. “Why are you doing this?” he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper.

Chuckling softly, Ikalos dropped his hand and took a step back. “Why?” he repeated, arching a brow. “Because I could. Because I wanted to. Because I was bored and you, oh, you just looked so… delectable, out there in the forest.”

Arne’s breath caught in his throat, and he desperately lashed out, shoving Ikalos away with all his strength before making a mad dash towards the balcony door.

He wasn’t quite sure what he was planning to do, once he got there. Maybe he could jump, if he wasn’t too high up. Anything was better than being trapped against the wall with that, that creature.

Behind him, Ikalos straightened, running a hand down the imperceptible wrinkles in his clothing. “Arne,” he called, voice shifting, “Arne, stop.”

Midstep, Arne’s body did as commanded and froze, leaving him stuck with one foot hanging in the air and both his hands stretched out wide to the side. All Arne could do was dart his eyes frantically around as his chest heaved.

Soft, smooth footsteps warned him of Ikalos’ approach, but he was utterly helpless, unable to move in even the slightest way.

As Ikalos stood in front of him, Arne could tell there was something different about him. Everything about him just seemed… sharper, somehow. Arne couldn’t really explain it. Most notably, though, was the way his golden irises seemed to be liquid, shifting and spilling over within itself. Arne highly suspected that if he were capable of movement right now, his legs would most likely give out from under him, pure fear soaking into his bones.

Ikalos clicked his tongue, shaking his head in faux disappointment. “Tsk, tsk, Arne. I thought you were smarter than that. How stupid are you, that you thought you could outrun me?”

Arne felt tears swelling in his eyes, causing him to blink hastily, which only sent salty droplets dripping down his face. His tongue felt as though it had an anvil pressing down on it, rendering him mute.

Ikalos ran a light hand through Arne’s hair, in a mockery of comfort. “You really are just another stupid, pathetic human, aren’t you?” His grip turned cruel as he fisted a chunk of Arne’s hair, bending his head at a near-painful angle. “Aren’t you so fortunate to have someone as kind as me to take care of you? Aren’t you?”

Arne could only stare up into those otherworldly golden eyes, tears continuing to pour down his face.

Ikalos wrenched his head to the side. “Aren’t you?!” he repeated. “Thank me! Now!”

All of a sudden, Arne’s tongue felt as if it were light as a cloud, but before he could control it, his mouth was already moving. “Thank you, Ikalos, for taking care of me.” His voice sounded strange to his own ears, lifeless and dull, no inflection in it.

Ikalos rolled his eyes in disgust before tossing Arne carelessly away from him, sending him tumbling into the corner, knocking the breath out of him and leaving him sprawled out on the floor, gasping heavily. “You may move again,” Ikalos said, almost bored, and with his words, Arne’s body came back under his control, and he curled up into the fetal position, staring up at the creature before him with loathing burning in his eyes.

Squatting before him, Ikalos chuckled, roughly petting his head, only frowning when Arne flinched away from him. “Pet, you are not allowed to move away from me.” He sighed. “I really ought to start training you right away, shouldn’t I?” He smiled down at Arne, who had frozen at the command, although this time, he could tell it was from his own will, not from the otherworldly compulsion Ikalos appeared to possess.

Swallowing, Arne looked up at him, relieved to see his eyes had returned to their normal appearance, no more swirling gold in them. “Please,” he begged, allowing all the desperation and fear he had to shine through. “Please, sir, good sir, just let me go. I will pay whatever ransom you desire. I will do whatever you request of me, just allow me to lea-”

His words were abruptly cut off as a painful slap sent his head cracking to the side, causing his neck to immediately begin to ache. A throbbing, burning pain flooded his cheek, slowly traveling to encompass his whole face. He gasped, reaching up one hand to cup his beet-red skin, eyes once again flooding with tears.As if nothing had happened, Ikalos resumed his methodical stroking of Arne’s hair. “Aw, pet,” he said condescendingly. “You’re mine now. There’s nothing that will cause me to let you go. You are mine.”

---

Taglist: @thelazywitchphotographer @whither-wander-whump @theelvishcowgirl @deckofaces @badluck990 @whumperofworlds @cupcakes-and-pain @misspelledwitch @winged-wolf-s-collection-of-arts

[echo-goes-mmm]

Moonflower #15

Masterpost

Previous

Next

Warnings: domestic abuse, alcoholism

Note: Ari is non-binary and uses they/them pronouns

Kit considered the pull-rope in the corner of his room. He’d seen Iris use hers once, to call a servant to pick up a dress that needed ironing before the usual laundry day.

Kit bit his lip. Slaves shouldn’t get to call servants, but how else would he be able to contact David?

He pulled the heavy cord, and waited.

It was only a few minutes before a servant appeared at his door. It wasn’t David, but someone he hadn't seen before.

“You rang for me, uh…?” they floundered for a title.

“Just Kit, please.” 

“What can I do for you, Kit?” The servant had a nice smile.

“Do you know David? I need to ask him to do something for me.”

“Oh, sure! I’ll go get him for you.” The servant turned to go.

“Thank you. Oh, um, what can I call you?” 

They looked back, confused. “You want to know my name?”

Kit worried the sleeve of his shirt. “Is that… odd? Sorry.”

“No. Well- a little. Most people don’t ask. I’m Ari.”

Kit winced at the wording. It wasn’t Ari’s fault they weren’t familiar with introducing themselves to faeries.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he said instead.

Ari gave him a smile. “You too,” they said. “I’ll go get David.”

___________________

David nervously walked down the hall to the royal wing. Kit had asked for him; for a favor, and he didn’t know what to expect.

He tugged on the sleeves of his uniform. It was a hot day, too hot for long sleeves, but it covered his marks.

He hoped Kit wasn’t mad at him for leaving so quickly. Dad had already been upset when he got home early, and he couldn’t handle more people yelling at him right now.

David took in a deep breath before knocking on the door.

“Come in,” called Kit.

David turned the handle and stepped inside, closing the door as quietly as possible.

Kit turned to look at him, and David suppressed a shudder.

The fae looked calm, but David couldn’t help but be wary. Kit was tall, and probably unnaturally strong, and had sharp teeth and strangely bright eyes and could do magic-

“Are you alright?” asked the faerie.

“Yes,” he squeaked.

The fae crossed the room towards him, and David tried his best to stay still.

“Hey,” said Kit, hand brushing over his, gently taking it in his. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Faeries couldn’t lie.

“Okay.”

Kit’s thumb rubbed a small circle on the back of his hand. “I just want to talk to you.”

“Okay,” he said. He couldn’t think of anything else to say.

Kit tugged him along to the couch, and David automatically sat down after him.

“I know we don’t really know each other. But, um, if someone’s been hitting you, I can help.”

Oh. 

“It’s nothing,” he said. “It’s not like that.”

Kit tilted his head, his bright teal eyes watching him like a cat watches a mouse. Or at least, that’s how it felt.

“What’s it like, then?”

David bit his lip. “It’s not his fault,” he muttered.

“Who?”

Kit wasn’t going to let it go, was he?

“My dad,” he admitted. “But it’s really not his fault. He just gets angry, sometimes, and he’s been stressed. He’s fine the rest of the time.”

David knew what Kit was going to say.

“It’s still not right. We can get you help; away from-”

“I won’t go,” he blurted, and Kit went quiet. “I’m all he’s got left. Mom died, and I can’t-” David’s voice broke- “I can’t just leave him. He needs me.”

“Does he?” asked Kit quietly. 

David nodded, tears beginning to gather at the corners of his eyes. “Family sticks together. And he needs the money I bring home.”

“He doesn’t work?” 

David thought about the empty bottles of alcohol in the house, the smell of old beer and whiskey, the stench of drink on Dad’s breath.

“He’s sick,” he said, instead of the truth. “He never got better after mom passed away.”

Kit didn’t look convinced. “If you ever change your mind,” he said gently. “I’ll do whatever I can.”

David nodded. “Thanks. I uh, better get back to work.” He stood to go, but Kit grabbed his hand again.

“I mean it,” said Kit, the scent of fresh flowers flooding the room. “Freely offered, freely given. I promise.”

David shivered, a tingle of magic running up his spine. “Thank you.”

___________________

He pushed open the door to the cottage, the acrid smell of old wine hitting him square in the face.

“I’m home,” he called out into the house.

“Shut the damn door,” grumbled Dad, his face buried into the couch cushions. He must be hungover again.

David closed the door. Dad glared at the sound, even though David had already oiled the latch a dozen times.

“Sorry,” he whispered. “Have you eaten today?”

“Obviously not,” said Dad. “You were at work.”

“Right. I’ll, uh, make dinner.”

David left the room before Dad could ask if he got more hours.

He checked the pantry. It was mostly empty; he hadn’t had the time to go to the market. And there was no way he would ask Dad to go get groceries. That never went well.

There was enough to throw together a soup, and some bread to help fill them up, but that was all he could manage.

___________________

“Is that it?” frowned Dad, staring at his bowl.

David’s heart sank. “I haven't gone shopping yet,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

Dad rolled his eyes. “Did you at least get a better work schedule?”

David looked down at his bowl. “No,” he whispered.

Dad slammed his fist on the table, and David jumped. “Dammit, David,” he hissed, “Can’t you get anything done?”

“I- the schedule is already made for next week,” he explained, “if you had asked me earlier-”

“Don’t you dare pin this on me, boy.” Dad jabbed his spoon in his direction. “It’s not my fault you’re useless. Do you even care about me?”

“I do!” he protested.

“Then do better. Am I understood?”

David bit his lip. “Yes, sir.”

___________________

Dad smashed the plate against the wall, and David dove out of the way.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry- Dad, please-”

“Shut the fuck up!” Dad screamed, his hand reaching for a framed portrait. 

David watched in horror as the glass shattered right where he’d been standing, the frame bent.

“I let you stay here, for free, and this is the thanks I get!?” 

“I’m sorry!” David pleaded, scrambling away. Dad stalked forward and grabbed him by the arm, yanking hard. David stumbled, and Dad reached for a bottle.

“Don’t!” he cried, but the bottle smashed against his temple, and the world went dark.

___________________

The house was empty when he woke up. His head hurt like hell. He pressed a hand to his temple, and it came away sticky and red.

He whimpered, the sound making his head hurt like one of Dad’s hangover headaches.

David slowly sat up.

The room was just as Dad had left it; trash everywhere. David picked himself off the floor.

The picture frame Dad had smashed still lay on the ground. David gathered up the remains. 

It was an old portrait. Mom, Dad, and him; from years ago. It was the only one he could convince Dad to keep after the funeral.

It was torn, and the frame was unsalvageable.

David heard the key in the latch.

He quickly pulled the portrait free, folded it, and tucked it away in his pocket.

“Hey champ,” said Dad, swaying into the room. There was a bottle in his hand, half empty. Gin. “Back from work?”

His voice was cheery, as if nothing had happened and he hadn’t left his son to bleed on the floor.

“Sure,” he croaked. The clock on the mantle said two am.

“Great.” Dad looked around the room. “Clean this up for me, ‘kay bud? I’m going to bed.”

“Okay.”

David watched his father stumble into the bedroom.

He began to sweep up the shattered plates, his mother’s favorite pattern in pieces, and tried not to cry.

taglist: @paintedpigeon1 @cupcakes-and-pain @loserwithsyle @cepheusgalaxy @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @virtualbreadtale @bitchaknso @starfields08000