#forced to whump

[chaotic-orphan]

Could you please continue ‘The Stranger’ it’s my favourite series on this app

The Stranger (V)

Read part one here // Continued from here

OHHHHHH IT’S ANGSTY YOUR HONOUR?!!!! WOWUH!!! To whoever wanted the stranger continuation!!! sorry it is a day/two late!!!! I hope you enjoy!!!! dedicated to @ehobep

*~*~*~*~*

Vigilante was a ball of nerves. His ears ringing in his skull as Karma drove him into the city again to Hero who was waiting for him on the roof. Karma was singing along to the radio, in a better mood than he had seen the monster in… maybe ever. His finger drummed along the steering wheel, humming when he didn’t know the words, the perfect image of peace and ease.

Vigilante wanted nothing more than to pull the steering wheel and let the car spin out into a ditch. A branch going through the driver’s seat lancing Karma through the chest. Or the skull, it really didn’t make a difference. As long as he died.

At least Hero would be safe.

If Karma hadn’t compelled him to behave like a fucking dog Vigilante could do that! He could save Hero, he could stop Karma— he could— he c— he couldn’t do a thing to stop him, except glare from the corner of his eyes and worry about his great mood. Vigilante had to be smart. He had to be smart or who knows what Karma might do to Hero?

“Ah, here we are,” Karma said turning the key in the ignition and smiling at Vigilante. “Come along, Vigilante. We have a hero waiting for us.”

There was no compulsion in his words but Vigilante obeyed anyways. It unnerved him when Karma started walking towards his and Hero’s rooftop, something so sacred and safe for the two of them.

“How did you know I’d be up there?” Vigilante asked.

“Hmm?”

“On the rooftop, the first time we met. How did you know I’d be up there?”

Karma smiled. “I have eyes everywhere, Vigilante, or haven’t you realised that by now?”

Vigilante glared at him. “Besides, when I saw you save the Mayor’s kid you got on my radar and I followed you until I could intercept. When I saw you go up to that roof, well, I knew it was my chance to speak to you, and then, who comes up after me, but the number two Hero in the city? I could sell your scandalous story to the media if I wanted to.”

Vigilante felt his cheeks flush. “That’s not— we’re not— there’s nothing going on between us.”

“Who cares?” Karma said with a shrug. “It would be juicy gossip, a media circus, and, in the pandemonium I could probably kill the mayor and it would be page seven news.”

Karma beamed at the blushing Vigilante, holding the door to the roof access open. “After you,” he said with a sweeping gesture of his hand. Vigilante swallowed the lump in his throat as he passed, taking the stairs up to the roof where Hero was waiting for him. Unbeknownst of the threat that was waiting for them.

If he could scream, maybe warn Hero, he could— he could maybe save them. That’s what he’d do. Without warning, Vigilante started sprinting up the stairs not caring if Karma was following or on their tail or anything. They ran up the stairs to the roof access and climbed the ladder to get the roof in record time and there���

Across the roof he saw Hero and he screamed: “Hero! Run!”

Hero frowned, rushing towards Vigilante, but Vigilante shooed them away. “Run! Just go! It’s a trap! It’s not me. It’s a villain, Hero! The suicides you need to—”

A hand clamped over Vigilante’s mouth, a razor edge pressed into his throat and yanked him back into Karma’s hard chest. Karma’s chest rose and fell quickly, tired from the exertion, but he chuckled darkly in Vigilante’s ear, freezing their struggles.

“Naughty, naughty Vigilante, Hero’s going to have to pay for that.”

“No!” Vigilante yelled through Karma’s hand but it was muffled as Karma’s grip turned bruising, wrestling Vigilante’s head back and dampening any hope of Vigilante calling out to warn Hero.

“Oh yes,” Karma hummed. “Just be a good little hostage.”

Vigilante’s wide terrified eyes found Hero’s who was still here. Why were they still here?! Why were they being a hero right now? Of all the people Vigilante had to try to save, they had to save a fucking self-sacrificial idiot who got payed to be risk their lives for others?!

It was all some cosmic joke.

“Hey, we can talk about this,” Hero said, hands out placatingly, their eyes going between Vigilante’s and Karma’s. “Just… just let Vigilante go and we can talk, right?”

Karma dug the knife deeper into Vigilante’s neck, pricking it lightly and letting Hero see the bead of blood he drew just for funsies.

“I think we can talk perfectly fine like this, Hero. You, me, Vigilante. I’m sure we can come to some arrangement.”

Vigilante grabbed Karma’s hand covering their mouth and tried to dislodge it but Karma didn’t budge, pressing his lips beside Vigilante’s ear he whispered: “stop struggling, Vigilante. Unless you want me to unmask you here and now in front of Hero.”

Vigilante froze. Karma chuckled. “Ohh… they don’t know either, do they? Interesting. That was a stab in the dark, Vigilante, you need to stop being so readable. It could get you in trouble.”

“Hey! Look, I think you need to release Vigilante right now, or else—“”

“Or else what?” Karma asked. “You’ll fight me? What if you hit poor Vigilante here?”

Vigilante told Hero to do it, to take the risk, but Karma smothered the words until they were just spongey syllables that got lost on the wind. Karma chuckled.

“Tell you what, Hero,” Karma said. “You’re right. I want to chat. So if I let Vigilante go, we don’t have to come to blows?”

Vigilante’s struggles renewed as they tried to shake their head, visions of Karma telling Hero to jump off the roof returning tenfold and making them want to throw up.

“Nngh! Nngh!” Vigilante protested, wishing he could scratch Karma’s eyes out but that fucking command was still lodged in his stupid brain that he couldn’t hurt himself or Karma; his struggles in vain.

Hero swallowed, eyes going between the pair before they nodded. “Deal.”

“Good,” Karma said. “When I release you, you will fall to your knees and remain silent.”

“Nngh!” Vigilante protested, frustrated tears gathering behind his eyes as he pawed uselessly at Karma’s hand. Karma removed the knife first, making a show of taking it from Vigilante’s throat and lifting it away.

Now.

Vigilante had to move now.

Karma’s command was conditional. If Karma released Vigilante, Vigilante would have to obey, but if Vigilante broke free… then nothing.

Vigilante shot forward like a bullet. Karma’s attention focused on Hero allowed his brain to stutter as Vigilante barrelled forwards, throwing themselves ahead and fell to the ground, rolling on the rooftop until they came to a stop beside Hero. Hero’s hand was on him, helping him to his feet, but Vigilante didn’t take his eyes off of Karma the whole time.

Karma threw his head back and let out a booming laugh at the sky. It didn’t sound like a proper laugh, it was chilling, crazed, the kind of laugh anime villains do when they’ve captured the hero or revealed their master plan. It made the hairs on the back of Vigilante’s neck stand on end.

“Vigilante, you slippery little fucker,” Karma bellowed, his laughter dying down to manic little chuckles as he tilted his chin down to stare at Hero and Vigilante again.

“Vidge?”

“You need to get out of here, Hero,” Vigilante said, pushing them behind his back. “He’s a charmspeaker you need to run, he’s the cause of all the suicides and—“”

Vigilante ducked to the left, dodging the knife that was hurled straight for his head.

“Spoilers, Vigilante. Come on, at least play fair.”

“Play fair?!” Vigilante sputtered as he started backing up on the rooftop, Hero behind him. “Nothing’s fair with you, you fucking psycho!”

Vigilante kept pushing Hero back. “Vidge, I’m not leaving you here with him. We can go together!”

Vigilante’s heart hammered against his chest, his blood rushing fast in his ears like a waterfall. The pressure and sound of the spray deafening everything else around him. He wanted so badly to get away, to run from Karma, but if he got his hands on Hero, who knows what he’d make Hero do.

Vigilante shook his head, eyes narrowing as Karma advanced slowly towards them, pushing them closer and closer to the edge of the roof.

“Vigilante~,” Karma sang, tutting him for his defiance. “Didn’t I tell you to behave when we met with Hero?”

“Go fuck yourself!” Vigilante snapped.

Karma smiled at Hero, as if he was Karma’s bold child that just disturbed Hero. “Sorry about him, he’s so spirited, isn’t he?”

“Just who the hell are you?” Hero demanded, their voice hard after they realised that Vigilante wasn’t about to go running with them.

Karma sighed, running a theatrical hand down his face and grabbed his chin as if he were pondering something. Then his lips stretched across his face as he held a finger up in the air, pointing towards the sky. “Ahah! I have a good idea, Vigilante, you come back over here now, and your punishment won’t be severe.”

“Punishment?!” Hero yelled now, stepping protectively in front of Vigilante. Vigilante grabbed Hero’s wrist, feeling their power thrum under their skin and pulled slightly. Hero planted their feet and let out a soft grunt of discomfort as Vigilante pulled on their ability. “You’re not getting anywhere near him.”

Karma smiled, exposing every tooth in his mouth, his half-lidded eyes amused, smirking a little at the pair. “Vigilante, I’ll give you to the count of three to surrender. Three.

“Hero we have to run,” Vigilante told them quietly, pulling at their shirt. “Trust me, please. I’ll explain when we’re safe, just please.”

“If this is the maniac who’s ordering all the suicides Vidge, I can’t just leave him free.”

“Two!”

“If we don’t leave him free, then he’ll take me back and do god knows what to you, Hero. Please!” Vigilante hissed, yanking Hero back. Hero fell back the step, and Vigilante’s hand tightened on Hero’s arm as Hero turned and they started running to the end of the roof towards a shop roof over.

“One!” Karma sang as Vigilante jumped. The sound of Karma’s fingers snapping rang over the wind of the roof, carrying to Vigilante’s ears like the sounds of church bells, deafening and dread filled. The moment Vigilante landed he turned and saw Hero on the edge of the rooftop on their knees.

Vigilante’s eyes blew wide, tracking Karma who was walking slowly towards Hero. “No! No, hero! HERO! GET UP!”

Karma chuckled, reaching into his grey duffle coat and pulling out a packet of cigarettes. He nodded at Vigilante as he walked towards the little step he sat on when he first took Vigilante.

“They can’t get up, Vidge,” Karma said, his words like a spear in Vigilante’s guts. “But I’ll grant you grace and give you five seconds to be by my side on your knees, grovelling, maybe with some tears, I don’t know yet, surprise me,” he continued conversationally, shrugging as he took a breath and light his cigarette between his teeth.

When he looked at Vigilante again it chilled him to the core. “Or this time, Hero walks off the roof and you won’t stop them. What’s another suicide in the city, hmm? Poor Hero, their heart couldn’t take that kid killing himself in front of them.”

Vigilante snarled at the air, his eyes on Hero’s bloodshot ones like the Mayor’s son, willing them to stand up. To get up! To laugh it off and say they were just fucking with Vigilante and that they were about to fight Karma with all the fury that Hero could muster, but Hero just stared blankly ahead at Vigilante, like a marionette with its strings cut, knees perched just before the ledge.

Oh god, if they had been faster when Karma did that Hero would have fallen to the pavement below.

“Five~” Karma sang and Vigilante ran across the roof to get a running jump onto the ledge. It was going to be harder than the initial jump because the usual rooftop was maybe a foot or two above the one Vigilante was on.

“Three!” Karma boomed. Vigilante wanted to scream at him and fight but he didn’t have time. If he wanted Hero to live he’d have to obey everything Karma said. Vigilante jumped and the minute he did a pit opened in his stomach. He realised after his feet left the ledge that he wasn’t going to make it cleanly.

His hands found ground on the rooftop’s ledge but his body slammed into the brickwork, robbing the wind from his chest. Vigilante gasped, fingers white knuckled, his feet doing tiny sprints on the bricks below as he tried to gain purchase on something to boost him up.

“Hero,” Vigilante said, his voice quivering with the effort. His foot found the ledge of a pipe and he wrapped his forearm around the ledge as he pushed himself up. Then his foot slipped and he was dangling. His bodyweight yanked him towards gravity and he cried out, his shoulders screaming at him to get up!

A sole pressed into his fingers and Vigilante cried out but he couldn’t even swing at Karma the bastard. He shifted his feet towards the pipe again and launched off it until he had two hands back on the ledge and—

His eyes widened. Hero stood with Vigilante’s fingers under their boot. “He… H-Hero?”

Karma stood beside them, eyes twinkling dangerously as he exhaled a plume of smoke from his lungs. “Mmm, what do you think, Hero? Should we let him up?”

Hero stomped on Vigilante’s hand. Vigilante lost their grip from the shock and the pain and now only one hand held them up on the ledge. With the momentum Vigilante swung, his eyes locking on the thirteen story drop to the street below. The world seemed to zoom in and out of focus as panic and his laboured breaths clogged every rational thought in him.

He glanced up again to see Hero’s foot hovering above Vigilante’s over fingers, Karma drinking in the chaos. “You’re right, Hero. I did give him a chance and he directly disobeyed me, what to do, what to do.”

Karma took another drag as Vigilante wrestled his hanging hand back up to the ledge, scrambling desperately. “Hero! Please!”

“Hero?” Karma echoed and Hero’s foot came down on Vigilante’s wrist. Vigilante screamed out a grunt of pain and he shook his head.

“Karma! Karma! Please! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please! Fuck!” Hero ground their heel into Vigilante’s hand until he almost lost his grip again and screamed.

“Alright,” Karma said with a shrug. “Let him up.”

Vigilante barely registered the words before Hero bent over, foot still on Vigilante’s hands and yanked him by the back of his shirt over the ledge and onto the roof. He didn’t have a moment to catch his breath before Hero yanked him up, marching him back towards Karma who had sat against the raised concrete where Vigilante first met Karma.

Hero shoved Vigilante to his knees in front of Karma who looked down on him as if he were a king on a throne and Vigilante a traitor to the realm. A peasant, nothing more than the dirt on his shoe.

“H-how?” Vigilante demanded. It was the only thing he could say. His mind racing back to the first night on the roof, Karma told Hero to forget him and forget meeting Vigilante. Karma had to use eye contact or at least… that’s what Vigilante thought.

Karma took another drag of his cigarette, Vigilante watching the white burn away down to the coffee coloured butt. “I called them,” Karma said.

Vigilante frowned. “But— don’t you need to do that weird shit with your eyes?!”

Karma let out a startled laugh, nodding, smoke stuttering out his nose into the cool air. “Yes,” he said, grinning. “I do.”

Vigilante’s frown bled away to a picture of confusion. “Then how—”

“Face time, idiot,” Karma said fondly, waving Vigilante’s phone in his face before their gaze went to Hero holding Vigilante down. “The wonders of the modern world, hmm? Poor dear thought you were in trouble, when they answered they were so concerned. I think they really like you, Vidge.”

“But— we had our backs turned,” Vigilante protested, desperate. Karma grinned leaning down until he was crouched in front of Vigilante. Vigilante could do it, he could use Hero’s power and leave a hole of light burned through Karma’s chest but then he would hurt Hero too, and he wasn’t prepared to do that. Hero was innocent.

“It’s like a magician’s command,” Karma told him, eyes glinting with cruelty. “When I snap my fingers, you’ll sleep and when I snap them again, you will believe you are a chicken. All premeditated commands, I just wanted to see the look on your face.”

Vigilante swallowed.

“Yup,” Karma hummed, tapping out the ashes of his cigarette. “It was worth it. A little planning never killed anyone, did it? Maybe if you thought of that you wouldn’t have tried to run and Hero would be blissfully unaware of having to hold you down, against your will while we chat. Didn’t I say I was going to punish you for that, too?”

Vigilante squirmed in Hero’s grip, pushing back away from Karma who tipped forward and pinched Vigilante’s cheeks in a bruising grip, yanking his face towards Karma.

Karma raised his cigarette and pushed the burning red eyed tip towards Vigilante’s eye. Vigilante’s eye watered immediately and he widened it so his eyelashes wouldn’t catch on the smouldering ember. He stiffened, struggles ceasing, his breath coming out in sharp, stuttered pants.

“Karma… d-don’t—”

“Don’t?” Karma asked, inclining his head. “Didn’t I tell you to behave? Didn’t I give you a chance to repent? To avoid this nastiness? And what did you do? Oh yeah, that’s right. You didn’t.”

Vigilante threw his weight back but Hero kept him locked in place and Karma kept his face close to the butt. Karma smiled. “But hey, I’m a forgiving sort of guy, so for now, I won’t burn your corneas out of your skull.”

Vigilante released a sigh too soon after Karma retracted the burning butt from his eye. It got swallowed into a scream when Karma forced the burning ember instead to the tip of Vigilante’s cheekbone and Vigilante thrashed, the cylinder sizzling against his skin, the hear burning his eyes as he tried to move back but Hero wouldn’t let him so Vigilante didn’t think. He just let the power in him flow.

Only it wasn’t Hero’s power he had.

It was Karma’s.

Vigilante hissed, barrelling back, tippling feet over head with Hero across the roof until they got Hero under them and forced them to look into Vigilante’s eyes. Hero went to punch them but Vigilante caught it, their cheek burning from the wind pulling at the wound and he half-shouted: “HERO WAKE UP! SNAP OUT OF IT!”

Hero tried to punch them with their free hand and that one caught Vigilante in the jaw. Shit! It wasn’t working and they could hear Karma’s footsteps getting closer and closer. Fuck! What was it! What was it?! What did he say?!

His eyes widened as they locked on Hero’s again. “I release you!”

Hero blinked up at Vigilante, melting under them, resistance leaving their limbs as they stared up at Vigilante.

“Vigilante? What’re you… oh, shit, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, I didn’t— I couldn’t control it, I—” Hero reached their hand up to Vigilante’s face, their thumb ghosting over the burn, but not touching it. Tears sprung to their eyes. “Vidge, I’m so… I’m so sorry.”

A loud, slow clap sounded from the other side of the roof drawing the pair’s attention. Vigilante looked up to see Karma standing at the door to the exit of the roof.

“How touching,” Karma said, hand on his heart. “But I didn’t even show you my command for you Vigilante.”

Vigilante’s blood ran cold, not moving from where they were straddling Hero to the ground. “What?” A whisper more than a word.

Karma’s eyes glimmered even from the distance with a malevolent delight at Vigilante’s plight.

“You know, the one that makes you do whatever I say. The one that turns you into my perfect little murder machine, all those special skills, Vigilante, you are a terror.”

Vigilante’s eyelids fluttered, trying to comprehend what Karma was saying behind his words, trying to make out the threat he was making because there was always a threat.

“Vidge?”

Vigilante looked down at Hero, his heart breaking with a small oh leaving his lips. If he didn’t go with Karma, Karma would make him kill Hero.

Hero who answered the call because of him.

Hero who was concerned when they saw Vigilante’s name flash across their phone.

Hero who was innocent in this, just another one of Karma’s victims.

Something hollow took root inside Vigilante’s chest as he stared down at Hero. Something protective and so unselfish that it threatened to swallow him whole. He placed his hands on Hero’s cheeks, tears pooling in his eyes.

“I… I’m doing this because I—” no, that was too much, too much for a time like this, so Vigilante swallowed and started again. “I’m doing this to protect you, Hero,” he whispered.

Hero stared, not quite comprehending yet. Not until Vigilante leaned down a little more, a stray tear hitting Hero’s cheek.

“Don’t, don’t do this, don’t go with him,” Hero pleaded, grabbing Vigilante’s wrists. “I won’t— I won’t give up. I won’t stop looking for you.”

“I know,” Vigilante whispered, his bottom lip trembling. “Which is why I have to do this. Hero, you’re going to forget me. You’re not going to—” his breath hitched, “look for me or worry about me anymore.”

“Vigilante please,” Hero cried.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. You’re okay, we’re okay.” He said, leaning down further, keeping Hero’s eyes in view, keeping them ensnared in his swirling gaze. Then he whispered: “you don’t know where the idea came from but you know that there is a villain out there with charm speak who is behind the suicides, someone from the wealthy side of town and you will find him and bring him to justice.”

Hero was stupefied beneath him as he retreated slightly. “And you’ll forget this too,” and Vigilante finally, for the first and possible last time ever, pressed his lips to Hero’s and wept as he pulled back, strangling his emotions into submission he rose from Hero’s body and walked towards Karma whose glittering eyes never left Vigilante.

“You made the right choice,” Karma said, patting Vigilante on the back. His breath reeked of smoke and cold, and Vigilante wanted nothing more than to punch him in the face, but he just walked past him and down the ladder before making his way back down to Karma’s stupid van, leaving the only person who he ever loved on the rooftop without any memory of him.

[whump-place]

Adopted.

8-Guard dog.

Masterlist.

Content: Multiple Whumpees, Pet Whumpees, Conditioned Whumpees, Multiple Whumpers, Reluctant Whumper.

Pet- Micah. He was Micah. Liam told it him that today he would be called Micah; stared at the window. It was raining, and now that he had officially been given a name, Master finally got back to work.

Leo said Master doesn't need to work, but that he likes to, and that they are allowed free roam of the house.

Micah couldn't really understand why, Pets are meant to be kept in a cage, or in the place they belong to, if they are a chores Pet they should be in the kitchen. If they are a lapdog they should be in a comfortable room. And a punching bag should be kept in a basement. It was easy. But Master was wealthy, and Micah knew for sure rich people didn't have to follow rules.

"Micah! We are going to play outside, you wanna come?" Star walked in his room wearing what Micah was sure was waterproof makeup; a crop top and a short skirt, Star always bragged about the fact all their skirts have shorts under them, so they are really comfortable. "We are going to play something funny."

"I'll go. I just... Can I finish this chapter first?" He still struggled to ask for things, but he was getting better at it. And Star seems to like it when he speaks.

"Oh, yeah, sure. What are you reading? Is it good?" They leaned in against the door frame, their body shines under the corridor's light. "You know, you don't have to come. If you want to finish reading it's all good."

"No, I want to go, just a moment." Liam wanted him to read lots of books, it made him happy to have something to talk about.

The garden was huge, but Star said not to worry, they knew the way back to the house.

When they finally got to where Liam and Leo were they both were soaked. Star liked the rain, and the others didn't seem to bother by it. The only one that was struggling under the water was...

"You never got to meet Ray, did you?" Liam asked, looking up at the guard dog that was kneeling on the grass. His hands were tied behind his back, and Micah doubted the drops falling down his face were just rain drops and not tears. "He is a guard dog. But I'm sure you already figured that out."

"He is really strong! He can lift Master easily, and Master gets him weights and those other things he needs to work out!"

"Actually, we don't let him come outside that much. He's way too ugly." Star complained, pinching the edge of their nose. "But, you know, you should get to meet everyone at the house."

"I assume Star explained to you what he does, right?"

Micah felt Star tensing right behind him. They didn't tell him anything.

"Well..."

"You don't have to worry. It's kind of what I was expecting of Star, after all." Micah knew those words weren't meant to offend, it was just what Liam thought, no filters on, but it still made him feel bad for Star. "So I will be explaining to you."

Liam said Ray had been the one that came in after Star, Master found him on a shelter because his former master didn't need him anymore. The shelter was going to put him down, and then Master adopted him.

That story reminds him a lot of what happened to himself.

"There are Pets that can obey and learn. Even Leo learned some proper etiquette, and he looks decent to be taken out when Master needs to." Liam explained with a calm voice, and Leo didn't seem to mind the way he spoke lowly of him.

"And then there's this. He doesn't learn anything, and his scars aren't even pretty, like Leo's!" Micah doubted any kind of scars were 'pretty', as Star says, still he decided to keep his thoughts to himself.

He felt bad when he looked over Star's shoulder and saw Ray shaking and curling on himself the best he could, not quite getting to hug himself with his hands tied up.

"But there's a good thing, now that Master got back to work we can help him get properly trained."

That. That made Ray shake uncontrollably, only managing to hide his face when he curled up in what seems an impossible angle.

Micah got lost in his thoughts until Leo's cheerful voice got him back into reality.

"And since you are new, you can have the first turn with him!"

Micah swallows a yelp. Liam wouldn't like it if he acts unwilling to do what they say.

The guard dog's big wide eyes look up at him for a second, just enough to see the tears streaming down his face.

He said a quiet 'please' before the kick landed in.

---

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[ironwhumper359]

Tenets of Growth: Part 9

Honor and Obey

First: The Path of Cultivation Prev: Groundwork || Next: title

CW: conditioning, kneeling, restrained, stress position, humiliation, conditioned whumper (whumper is also a whumpee, who believes they are doing the right thing), religious themes, religion used to justify torture, fantasy world.

Word count: 2,300~

Author's Notes: This chapter is a little lighter on the whump itself, and is more a way to exposit some stuff and set future scenes up, but there's a little bit of whump there too!

— — — 

After a successful replanting, Initiate Cedar has responded relatively well to his first meditation. The subject was the Vow of a Seed. Additional goals for his first day of study include the Initiate’s Code of Conduct, and I hope to introduce the First Tenet of Growth either today or tomorrow. 

Aster hesitated, her quill hovering over the page of the logbook Lady Lantana had given her. Her instructions had been to write about every aspect of Cedar’s training for the Cultivator to review, but something held her back from putting her question to paper. She had learned that she was not to show any doubt, so how would Lady Lantana react if she expressed her difficulty? 

A challenge I have encountered is my own inexperience with the– 

She paused, considering her words. 

–physical aspects of cultivation. I find myself wishing for the knowledge that Pruners have of the human body, of how much it can take before succumbing to pain or exhaustion. Still, I remain optimistic about Initiate Cedar’s progress. 

Nodding to herself, Aster set her quill down on the desk and stood. It had been perhaps two hours since she left Cedar’s cell, instructing the youth to meditate privately on the Vow of a Seed. In that time, she had taken a meal, spent some time in personal study in the Nursery’s library, and meditated on the Vow of a Cultivator. The shape of the Vow in her soul was still new and unfamiliar to her, and she knew she had many more hours of meditation ahead of her before she truly understood it. But for now, she had to put all of that from her mind. 

“When you are working directly with Initiates, your focus must be entirely on their growth,” Lady Lantana had instructed. “For as a Cultivator, their growth is your growth. You yourself become closer to Perivyta as you guide others to her.” 

Aster took a deep breath, then turned and left her room, leaving the log open on the desk. She attempted to find her way through the Nursery’s corridors on her own, but she was still so unused to navigating the Nursery without a leader. Eventually, after ten minutes of wandering, she was forced to ask for directions to the kitchen, where she procured a bowl of thin, watery porridge to bring to Cedar. Thankfully, she managed to make it from the kitchens down to the training cells without further incident, and soon found herself outside his cell door. 

She took another breath, straightened her spine, then opened the door and stepped into the room. 

Cedar was still chained so that he knelt on the floor, unable to look up, but the flinch at the sound of the door clanging shut let Aster know that he was awake and aware of her presence.

“Initiate Cedar, what is the Vow of a Seed?” she asked. 

“I am a Seed,” Cedar said immediately. “As a Seed, I am helpless. I am dependent on Perivyta for every gift of life. I owe my very breath to Her, and so I give Her thanks.” 

“And what does this vow mean?” 

“I am a Seed. As a Seed–” 

“I did not ask you to recite the vow again,” Aster interrupted. “I asked you to tell me its meaning. Or has your time of meditation been in vain?”

“No!” Cedar said quickly. “Um, it means…” he took a shaky breath. “It means that without Perivyta, we can’t survive. She gives us everything, and we…we are nothing, without her.” 

Aster nodded, though Cedar could not see the motion. 

“You are beginning to understand,” she said. “Though you have not yet fully embraced the meaning of the vow in your heart. The sooner you do so, the sooner the fullness of Perivyta’s gifts will be made known to you.” 

She sat the bowl of porridge down on her cart, then leaned forward and put her hands on the collar around Cedar’s neck. As she suspected he would, the boy flinched and tried to jerk away from her touch, but she simply gripped the leather edges tighter.

“Be still,” she commanded, and after a moment, Cedar complied, his breath coming in shaking gasps. 

He clearly expected to have his air cut off again, and for a moment, Aster considered doing so. He would need to meditate on the Vow of a Seed many more times, why not do so now? But no, this was not the right time for such an exercise. She didn’t want him fainting while trying to memorize the Initiate’s Code, he needed his strength for now. So instead of pulling the collar tight, she unclipped the chain that forced him to keep his head down. 

Cedar began to straighten, looking up at her with fear and confusion in his eyes. Aster’s heart twisted at his expression, but she did not let it show on her face. 

“Did I give you permission to move, Initiate?” she asked, and Cedar immediately bowed back down, nearly touching the floor with his forehead. 

“No,” he whispered. 

Already, he is learning to show proper deference, Aster thought to herself as she selected a longer chain from her cart. He’s a faster learner than I was. 

She attached the longer chain to his collar, then retrieved the bowl of porridge. 

“Now you may rise, Initiate Cedar.” 

Slowly, Cedar obeyed, straightening as far as the longer chain allowed. He was still on his knees, but now his back was straight, and he could lift his head to look up at her. Nodding, Aster dipped a spoon in the porridge and held it out to him. He stared at it, and she could see the conflicting emotion in his eyes. 

He had to be starving; Aster knew that this was the first meal he was being offered here in the Nursery, and Perivyta only knew how much he’d been fed at the prison they’d brought him from. But to accept the spoonful was to relinquish this final bit of control over his life. It would not come naturally to him, which was why these few early days were so crucial. Aster herself had failed to submit fully to Perivyta and the Order as a young Seed, and she had paid dearly for that failure. She would not allow Cedar to suffer the same fate. 

“You will eat this now,” she said simply. “Or you will not eat at all.” 

Cedar hesitated for a moment, then his eyes dropped to the floor and he opened his mouth. Aster bit back a smile as she fed him the first mouthful. 

A much faster learner than I was.

“This too is meditation,” she found herself saying as she spooned the porridge into his mouth. “And meditation is a gift. We rely on the Goddess for every aspect of our lives, but it is so easy to lose sight of her presence in our day to day existence. But when we walk the Path of Perivyta, we are constantly given opportunity to take notice of her gifts and give her thanks for them. Whenever we finish eating, we say ‘I give thanks to Perivyta for this gift of her bounty,’ to acknowledge our reliance on her.” 

Aster set the empty bowl on the cart behind her, and looked down at Cedar expectantly. 

“I…I give thanks to Perivyta for…this bounty.” 

“For this gift of her bounty,” Aster corrected, and Cedar repeated the words. 

“Now,” she said, clasping her hands together in front of her. “We return to your training.” 

— — — 

“You embark on the Path of Perivyta, a path that others have walked ahead of you. In order to prevent you from going astray, there is a Code that you and all Initiates must follow.” 

After his meager meal, Cedar had been forced to lower his head back into a bow while the girl swapped the longer chain she’d briefly given him back for the short one. His skin chaffed uncomfortably beneath the leather collar around his neck, and his back and knees ached from being forced to kneel for so long. 

Still, he forced himself to pay attention to Lady Aster’s words. He still wasn’t quite sure what was going on or what she wanted from him, but an “Initiate’s Code of Conduct” sounded an awful lot like “rules” to him, and he had a feeling that knowing what exactly the rules were to be in his new life would be very useful. Every time he had failed to uphold one of these standards that he hadn’t known about, he’d been met with pain and derision, which was something he’d like to avoid as much as possible going forward. 

“Understanding the guidelines of this Code is paramount to your walk with the Goddess, and thus, questions for clarification will be permitted during this lesson. Now, repeat this after me: 

“As I honor and obey Perivyta, I honor and obey her Cultivators, in my heart, in my mind, and in my actions.” 

“As I honor and obey Perivyta…” Cedar said slowly, trying to match the girl’s words exactly. “I honor and obey her Cultivators, in my heart, in my mind, and in my actions.” 

There was a pause, and when Lady Aster didn’t speak immediately, Cedar hesitantly asked, 

“What’s a Cultivator?”

“Cultivation is one of the Paths of Perivyta that one may walk when one’s time as an Initiate is over,” Lady Aster explained. “Cultivators lead the Order, and guide all its Priestesses, Priests, and Initiates.” She paused for a moment, and Cedar glanced up just enough to see her straighten her spine. “And I am your Cultivator. Now, repeat the first guideline again.”

For what Cedar could only assume was hours, Lady Aster drilled the “guidelines” into him. His head was swimming with flowery language and redundant points, but for better or worse, he could at least understand what was being asked of him with each part of the Code. 

As I honor and obey Perivyta, I honor and obey her Cultivators, in my heart, in my mind, and in my actions. 

Always follow a Cultivator’s orders. Simple enough to understand, at least.

To walk Perivyta’s Path and to study the Tenets of Growth is the truest purpose of my life, and I will not forsake these teachings.

Be a good student of all the spiritual lessons that said Cultivator kept rambling on about. 

All work done in the Nurseries and in Perivyta’s name is sacred in nature, and I will perform this work with humility and gladness. 

Apparently, he’d eventually be unchained and expected to perform manual labor, and he was to do so without any complaint.

Posture is a reflection of the spirit. All who look upon me will know the truth of my heart and the Path that I walk.  

From what he could gather, this is why he was chained on his knees with his head bowed. The “Posture of a Seed,” as Lady Aster called it, was meant to both be a constant reminder to him of his place and to show others at a glance what that place was. Eventually, he’d be expected to hold the pose without restraints, but for now, the chains were to help him “learn the posture’s shape.” 

As I heed the will of Perivyta and her Cultivators, I also heed those who have walked the Initiate’s Path before me and are rich in the Goddess’s fruit. 

Cultivators were only one kind of Priestess, and Cedar was expected to obey any Priest or Priestess who gave him an order, so long as that order did not contradict the order of a Cultivator. 

As I am not fully grown in my walk with Perivyta, I associate only with others who are on this walk with me and with those who guide me. 

“What does that mean?” Cedar asked bluntly. He’d understood the other mandates well enough, only needing minor clarification, but this last one made no sense to him. 

“You are freshly replanted, Initiate,” Lady Aster explained. “It is important that you are surrounded only by those who will help in your growth. You are not to have any contact with those who do not also walk the Goddess’s Path.” 

“So don’t talk to anyone who’s outside the Nursery,” Cedar clarified. 

“Or even those within the Nursery who do not walk the Path of Perivyta.” 

Cedar frowned. 

“Who in the Nursery isn’t on that Path?” 

Lady Aster paused, and for a moment Cedar thought she wasn’t going to answer at all. 

“Sometimes there are visitors, or those who have come seeking guidance,” she said eventually. “As a general practice, simply do not speak to anyone who does not wear the robes of the Priesthood. Is that clear?” 

“Yes, my lady,” Cedar said aloud. But inside, his thoughts were racing. 

There was something more to this rule, something that the girl was unsure how to speak about. Why was this so important that it got a special entry in the Initiate’s Code of Conduct? Don’t speak out of turn, don’t act out of turn, follow orders, memorize the rituals, all these rules he at least understood the purpose of. But this last one… 

“Initiate!” Lady Aster snapped, and Cedar realized she had spoken without him hearing. 

“Yes, my lady?” 

“I said recite for me the entire Initiate’s Code.” 

Cedar grimaced. He knew he wouldn’t remember every word perfectly, which meant more “meditation.” Taking a deep breath, he began to speak. 

“As I honor and obey Perivyta, I honor and obey her Cultivators…”

— — — 

Aster picked up her quill, and wrote a final line in her logbook. 

I also am in need of guidance on the best way to introduce the subject of the Chaff.

— — — 

Prev: Groundwork || Next: title

[sapphicccici]

WoW Birthday Whump: Day 3

crying/ parting words regret/ "why...?"

This is more canon story of my barbarian oc Detali Gamble! It includes Cossim Vect, and Makkel Dextri. The three of them are a polycule and also prisoners who are forced to be gladiators and fight each other to the death :)

This also comes directly before my post from Day One !

Content: Forced to whump, Multiple whumpees, character death (!!), blood, improper use of guns, barbarian typical rage, male whumpee, female whumpee, mute caretaker, needles, drugs, head injuries, institutional whump, celebrity whumpee, defiant whumpee

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

“One last kiss, Tali?”

Detali’s heart skipped a beat.

Tali.

She stopped, gun held above her head, ready to deliver a fatal blow.

Cossim looked up at her from where he kneeled. His hair stuck to his forehead, matted down by the mixture of hot desert sand and blood coming from his several head wounds. His honey-golden eyes held a sadness Detali couldn't place.

Finally she shook her head at him. “Never gonna happen, baby.”

She swung the gun down on his skull. Cossim’s head snapped forward with the force of the blow, and his body quickly followed, leaving him face down in the sand.

Crowds roared around them and camera drones swarmed the scene.

Detali looked up at her adoring fans, but did not smile.

Something's wrong.

Cossim never called her by her name during fights, only her stage name: Medusa. And Tali? That nickname? It was special– used only in the gentlest moments between them. Why would he call her that now?

Hands landed on Detali’s shoulders and ushered her through the stadium-turned-desert, and into an elevator. She turned, watching through the sliver of the doors closing behind her as Cossim’s body was lifted onto a stretcher.

The groan of machinery made her ears ring as the elevator began to descend. She took the moment to try and catch her breath, feeling the exhaustion seep into her bones. She always put her all into these fights. The warden had warned her what would happen if she were caught pulling her punches.

It felt like the elevator couldn't have moved any slower as Detali feared Cossim's fate. When they got out of the elevators, he would either be rolled to the right, to the infirmary, where they would resurrect him and he would be safe for another month, or they would roll his body to the left to the furnaces. Then…

The elevator door opened and she rushed out. She was met with a wall of cameras and microphones pushed into her face. She smiled as politely as she could muster as she caught sight of the stretcher.

Turn right, she silently urged. Please, turn right.

The stretcher turned left.

She snapped. She launched her body forward, screaming and shoving her way through reporters and guards.

“No! Stop!” She demanded.

Someone yanked her backwards, their arms wrapped tightly around her upper body, stopping all attempts at motion. She threw her head back in an effort to free herself but was met with a rock-solid chest.

“Let me go! Fuck off and let me go!”

She looked down at the arms wrapped around her. Tattooed black bands on the forearm confirmed her suspicions.

Makkel was trying to save her again.

She thrashed with all her might, but Makkel pulled her to the ground.

“He can't die! Please! It's his fucking birthday! Please!”

The prick of a needle stung in her neck. She felt the pressure of a fluid, a sedative probably, rush through her, making her dizzy.

She tried to lunge forward again as Makkel laid her on the floor.

Her vision started blurring at the edges, “Why? Why are you doing this?”

Makkel shook his head at her.

Tears pooled in her eyes. “I didn't-”

Makkel tucked his arms underneath her knees and neck.

“I didn't tell him,”

She was lifted from the floor.

She managed to whisper, “I didn't tell him I loved him,” before her vision finally went black.

[hereissomething]

ah yes, the toxic hate triangle

[scealaiscoite]

.☽༊˚ prompts for helping bathe an injured loved one

¹⁾ sitting on the edge of the bathtub and letting them lay their head against your thigh as the fatigue starts taking hold

²⁾ “i know, i know it hurts but hold on for just a little longer and we’re done, yeah? think you can do that for me, pet?”

³⁾ helping them lean up so you can wash their back, and pretending not to notice them shaking in your arms

⁴⁾ “you needn’t be so gentle, y’know. if today wasn’t enough to break me, i doubt an ill-applied handful of shampoo will.”

⁵⁾ using your soapstuffs because the familiar scent will, hopefully, help calm them

⁶⁾ “i can’t believe it took a night like that for you to let me help you with something.”

⁷⁾ having never seen them in a state of undress before and so, trying admirably hard to avoid looking directly at them in such a vulnerable state

⁸⁾ “so mr/mrs surly and serious likes having their hair washed for them, hm? don’t worry, i’ll keep your secret.”

⁹⁾ climbing into the bath/shower with them, more for the physical comfort than practicality

¹⁰⁾ “i wish the first time you saw me like this could’ve been under better circumstances.”

¹¹⁾ stripping down to the same level of undress as them in an effort to try and make them feel more comfortable

¹²⁾ “can we- can we just stay here, like this, for a minute? please?”

¹³⁾ using as gentle a touch as possible to clean them off and feeling your heart break each time they still suppress a pained whimper

¹⁴⁾ “it’s just me now. you don’t have to be brave anymore.”

¹⁵⁾ trying to towel them dry but ending up just cradling them to your chest with the towel pressed aimlessly between you

[tatooineknights]

Return of the Jedi (1983)

[whump-in-the-closet]

a disorientated whumpee at a party with whumper's hand uncomfortably wrapped around their collarbone. There's a spiraling fear that they can't quite name-- they're losing themself in this nightmare of insinuating whispers.

The music is pounding and Whumpee can feel it in their teeth.

Whumper pulls them into a dark corner to push a drink up to their lips. "Your friends are coming," Whumper's voice is low, it's calm, it's measured, and Whumpee's skin crawls. "You're going to tell them you want to stay with me."

"No--"

"Or one of them will take your place."

[buggachat]

Open My Eyes

AO3, 1/15 chapters, post season 5 finale, angst (with a happy ending), Adrien discovers the truth

Adrien smiles as he eats breakfast with Nathalie, smiles as he walks through the halls of his new lycée, smiles as people stop him on the street and tell him time and time again what a "hero" his father was. (Adrien wishes he could've been a hero, too. He should've been. Maybe then his father would still be alive.) (But he's surviving. Everyone may be treating him as though he were made of glass, but he can still go through the motions, he can prove them wrong, he can still smile.) “And you’re… happy,” Marinette spoke carefully, a nervous tilt to her voice, “... right?” (Adrien has some things to find out.)

Hey guys, deciding to force myself to finally start uploading my post-season 5 finale fic! It's already complete and will be updated Mondays and Thursdays.

Basically, it's lots of Adrien angst and reveals dealing with the fallout of the season 5 finale. It was a lot of fun to write.

[echoingalaxies]

“I will do anything,” Caretaker pleaded from their knees. “Just – don’t hurt him. He’s not your enemy. I am.”

Whumper narrowed his eyes, considering, but did not let go of Whumpee, whom he had pinned against the wall, his hand wrapped around the throat of the defenseless boy, who didn’t have enough life in him to put up a fight anymore. “What do you have to offer?”

“What do you want?” Caretaker stared at Whumper. “My life? My freedom? Let him go and whatever it is you want from me, I will give you without a fight.”

“I want you to suffer,” Whumper spat, fingers tightening around half-conscious Whumpee’s neck. Whumpee’s breaths were becoming more shallow and raspy, and Whumper grinned toothily at the pure panic and desperation on Caretaker’s face. “And what would be a better way to make that happen than through him?”

[befuddled-calico-whump]

thinking about a whumpee on a forced march through rough terrain

hands tied in front of them, on foot while their captors are mounted, sleeping out in the open, forced to beg for adequate food and water

maybe they're barefoot, a captured royal in silken robes

maybe they're in a torn suit or soldier's uniform

maybe they were stripped at the start, increasing the exposure to the elements, the humiliation

are they a terrified mess from the beginning, or do they try to endure with dignity? how long before they're stumbling, barely putting one foot in front of the other? how long before they fall?

[ironwhumper359]

Tenets of Growth: Part 8

Groundwork

First: The Path of Cultivation Prev: Rejoice in Her Pruning || Next: Honor and Obey

CW: conditioning, kneeling, restrained, stress position, drugging, conditioned whumper (whumper is also a whumpee, who believes they are doing the right thing), religious themes, religion used to justify torture, fantasy world.

Word count: 3,500~

Author's Notes: Cedar and Aster together at last...what horrors will be wrought? (many. there will be many horrors. but that's why we're all here, is it not?)

— — —

Cedar was pulled out of his restless sleep by the sound of the cell door opening with an ominous creak. For a moment he lay still, unsure if it would be better to acknowledge the presence of whatever new torment had come for him or to pretend to still be asleep, but before he’d decided what to do, a familiar voice cut through his thoughts. 

“Good morning, Initiate Cedar.” 

Slowly, he opened his eyes to find the girl from the day before standing in the center of the cell. She was dressed in the same robe and belt as before, her sand-colored hair in the same long braid down her back, and her brown eyes were fixed on him. 

“You must be very confused,” the girl continued, her voice as smooth and even as it had been when she’d buried him alive. “Perhaps even afraid. But you have nothing to fear now. The Goddess Perivyta has accepted you into her service, and from this day forward, you will walk her Path of Light.” 

The girl smiled at that, as though it was the best news she’d heard in a long time. 

“You may address me as Lady Aster,” she said. “I will be attending to your Cultivation.” 

Just then, there was a knock on the door, and the girl, Lady Aster, turned. 

“Enter,” she said, and the door swung open. 

A boy who looked a few years younger than Cedar himself entered the room. He was pushing some kind of shelf on wheels, and he kept his head lowered as he approached the girl. 

“Your delivery, my lady,” he said. 

He wheeled the shelf up next to her, then took a step back and sank to his knees, bowing his head low and clasping his hands behind his back. Lady Aster didn’t even look at him, instead turning to inspect the contents of the shelves. Cedar tried to push himself into a sitting position to get a better look himself, but the chains binding his wrists and ankles made it difficult. 

The boy kneeling on the floor glanced up at the sound of the chains rattling. His eyes went wide, almost fearful, as though he’d seen a ghost, but he quickly looked down again, bowing his head even lower than before. 

Cedar frowned. Was the boy like him? A prisoner sent here to serve? But there were no chains on his wrists and no collar around his neck, not even the marks of having worn them recently. And yet he’d looked at Cedar as though he was seeing a dark reflection of himself.

“This is sufficient, Initiate,” Lady Aster said, turning to the boy and nodding. “You are dismissed.” 

The boy smoothly rolled to his feet with his hands still behind his back and he nodded back, never once letting his gaze lift from the floor. 

“Thank you, my lady,” he said, then he turned and left, pulling the door shut behind him. 

Cedar took a deep breath, and forced himself to speak before he lost his nerve.

“What’s going on here?” he demanded. “What kind of punishment is this? What do you want from me?” 

The girl’s expression did not change once during his outburst, and she merely shook her head.

“This is no punishment, Initiate Cedar,” she said. “This is redemption. Were you being punished, you would simply be locked away in prison for the rest of your life, with no opportunity to make your peace with Perivyta. She surely would cast you aside from her Table of Plenty, leaving you to be burned with the Chaff.” 

She smiled again, and there was something unsettling about how peaceful she looked, standing there above him, rambling on about the Goddess and redemption while he was bound in chains. 

“You’ve been given the chance for a new life, to walk a new path. There could be no greater gift.” 

“But what does that mean?” Cedar pleaded. “What’s going to happen to me?”

“Know this, Initiate,” Lady Aster said, a cold edge suddenly in her voice. “Your behavior is being tolerated because you have not yet begun your training. Once we begin, there will be standards for how you conduct yourself, one of which is not speaking unless prompted to do so. Do you understand?” 

Cedar thought of the boy, kneeling in silence and staring at him with a horrified expression and he swallowed, nodding carefully. 

“What will happen is that you will be trained as an Initiate in Perivyta’s Order. You will learn the Goddess’s teachings, and dedicate the rest of your life to her service.” 

She turned away from him, bending slightly to retrieve something from the top shelf of the cart, and Cedar stared at her. The meaning of her words echoed loud and clear in his mind, and his heart sank.

The rest of your life.

They were never going to let him go. 

“When…” he hesitated, taking a deep breath. “When does that start?” 

Lady Aster turned and stepped towards him, a tincture in her hand. 

“It starts now,” she said. “Open your mouth.” 

Cedar wondered briefly what she would do if he refused, but his arms and legs were already shackled, and he was chained to the wall by his neck. Slowly, he opened his mouth, and she squeezed a few drops from the tincture down his throat. 

“What is that for?” he asked, but Lady Aster ignored his question, simply turning away and returning the tincture to its place on the shelf. 

“Your Replanting was a success,” she said, turning back to him. “And you are now a Seed. A seed is the first stage of life for a plant, as an infant is the first stage of life for a man. Thus, as a Seed, you are in the first stage of your walk upon Perivyta’s Path.”

Cedar stared at her, trying to wrap his mind around what she was saying. He understood the literal words, but he had a sudden headache that made it difficult to focus on their meaning.

“A seed cannot grow without proper nourishment,” Lady Aster continued. “And an infant cannot survive without constant care. As a Seed, you are reminded that we are dependent on Perivyta for everything. For food, for water, for your body, for the very air in your lungs.”

Cedar’s head was spinning. He felt nauseous and his heart was racing, and with a start he realized that whatever had been in that tincture was the cause. 

“What did you–” he started, but his words were slurred and his mind was too jumbled to finish the thought. 

The last thing he saw was Lady Aster bending towards him, then the world dissolved into blackness. 

— — — 

Aster bent down, watching Cedar’s face carefully. When his eyes rolled back in his head, she quickly reached forward and unlocked the iron collar from around his neck. She gripped him under his arms and pulled him forward, grunting a little with the effort. The effects of the hydrangea extract wouldn’t last for long, and she wanted to have him in the proper position before he regained control of himself. 

She dragged him into the center of the room and laid him on the floor, then took a chain from the bottom shelf of her supply cart. She locked one end to the cuffs around his ankles and the other to the loop on the floor, securing him in place. Next, she took up a leather collar from the cart and fastened it around his neck, arranging it so that the buckle was on the back of his neck and the loop for a chain was in the front. Cedar began to stir just as she finished chaining the new collar to the floor, and she stepped back, straightening her spine to (hopefully) appear more authoritative. 

“Hnng…wha–?” The youth’s attempt at speech was cut off by a retch, and Aster schooled her face into blankness. She waited for the dry heaving to stop, then she spoke.

“On your knees, Initiate Cedar,” she commanded, just managing to stop herself from adding a ‘please.’ 

Cultivators did not make requests. They gave orders. 

“Please– my stomach hurts,” Cedar groaned, pressing his forehead onto the cold stone floor. 

“I said, on your knees,” Aster said. “The feeling will pass.” 

Cedar looked up at her, his eyes watery and red-rimmed, but she kept her face impassive. After a moment, he grunted and did his best to push himself upright. He struggled to move with his hands behind his back, but Aster made no move to help him. 

He had to see how difficult things were on his own before he could appreciate her guiding hand, and thus, the hand of the Goddess. 

Eventually, he managed to make it onto his knees, but when he tried to lift his head to look at her, the chain on his collar went taut. Aster had to admit, she was impressed. 

The Pruner who had helped put the supplies together for her had specified what each restraint was to be used for, and stressed that she should not interchange them. The chains on his ankle cuffs were long, long enough that if she undid his collar, he could walk a small circle around the center of the room. But the chain on the collar itself was the perfect length to force the head to remain properly bowed, no matter how defiant the wearer may be.

“Today, we will lay the groundwork for your walk on the Path of Perivyta,” Aster said, “as a gardener prepares the soil for planting. You are a Seed now, ready to be planted so that you may grow to be rich and fruitful in her name.” 

She paused, considering her next words. Repetition was the key to imparting the Goddess’s teachings, especially in these early days, but she’d always found rephrasing a statement in different ways to be a more effective way to internalize the meaning. 

“As Seeds, we are reminded of our utter dependence upon Perivyta for every gift of life,” she eventually said. “Without her blessings, we do not eat. We do not drink. We do not move. We do not even draw breath.”

She thought of her recent Pruning, how the loss of her senses had brought clarity to her own dependence on the Goddess. A part of her yearned for Cedar to feel that same loss, to know with every fiber of his being as she had that without Perivyta’s presence, he was truly nothing. 

But no, the boy did not even know how to meditate yet. She could not expect him to have the same enlightening experience she’d had when he was still a novice.

“Your training will begin with meditation,” she said. “Meditation allows us to focus on a particular aspect of Perivyta. Over time, you will meditate on every aspect of the Goddess, on each of the Tenets of Growth, on the purpose of each Path before you, and on the very will of Perivyta herself.”

Cedar shifted, perhaps attempting to relieve the pressure on his knees, and Aster took a breath, forcing her voice to harden. 

“Movement indicates a break in focus and disrupts meditation. Do not do so without my permission again. Nod if you understand.” 

Cedar knit his brow in a frown, but he did nod, a single jerk of his head, and Aster’s heart welled up with sympathy for him. It was hard, in those early days, to hold yourself still. It was even more difficult while kneeling with no mat under you to cushion your joints, but mats and pillows were privileges, privileges that her Initiate would have to earn just as she once had. 

“Meditation is a spiritual experience,” Aster explained once she was certain Cedar wouldn’t fidget again. “Yet it also allows the mind to internalize new information. Your first subject of meditation will be the Vow of a Seed. This is the first of six vows that an Initiate takes while walking the Path of Perivyta.”

Aster inhaled through her nose, resisting her own urge to fidget as she prepared to speak the vow aloud. It felt wrong, somehow, to say the words without the accompanying motion, but it was not her meditation, it was Cedar’s. Lady Lantana had strongly discouraged Aster from demonstrating the proper posture of meditation for Cedar herself, instead instructing her to make use of a Sprout or Bud’s assistance when necessary. Aster had to remain above her charge at all times, just as Perivyta herself was above all humanity. 

“Repeat after me,” Aster instructed. “I am a Seed.”

A beat of silence, then Cedar obeyed. 

“I am a Seed.” 

“As a Seed, I am helpless.”

Cedar squeezed his eyes shut, and Aster held her breath.

“As a Seed, I…am helpless,” he said, his voice a dull monotone. 

Aster could tell that he didn’t like what he was saying, but also that he knew it was true. It was the entire purpose of restraining him; it was impossible to deny his reliance on the Order when he could not even move unaided.   

“I am dependent on Perivyta for every gift of life,” Aster continued, and Cedar listlessly repeated her words.

“I owe my every breath to Her, and so I give Her thanks,” Aster said, completing the vow. Cedar echoed her, and she nodded. 

“Exactly. Now, again. I am a Seed; as a Seed I am helpless.” 

Cedar took a breath, shaking ever so slightly on the exhale, then he spoke. 

— — — 

Again and again, Lady Aster recited the vow, and again and again, Cedar repeated her words. He clenched his fists behind his back, forcing himself to swallow his pride. He didn’t have to believe the words, he reasoned with himself. Just repeat them convincingly in order to keep this crazy girl satisfied. 

“Now, recite for me the entire vow,” Lady Aster said suddenly, and Cedar swallowed.

“I am a Seed. As a Seed, I am helpless,” he began. “I am…um…” 

He realized with a jolt of nerves that he hadn’t really been paying close attention to every word they’d been saying. 

“I am…uh, dependent on Perivyta for my gift of breath,” he said, knowing even as he spoke that he’d mixed some words around. “I owe my life to Her, and so I give Her thanks.” 

Lady Aster shook her head, and Cedar winced.

“True meditation requires focus, Initiate. You must internalize the meaning of the words, which you cannot do until you have them perfect. I am dependent on Perivyta for every gift of life. Say it.” 

“I am dependent on Perivyta for every gift of life,” Cedar repeated. 

“Once more,” Lady Aster commanded, and again he recited the words.

She made him say each line of the vow on its own, over and over until she was satisfied he’d learned it. 

“Now, try it again. Recite the entire vow.” 

Cedar took a deep breath. 

“I am a Seed,” he said slowly. “As a Seed, I am helpless. I am dependent on Perivyta for every gift of life. I owe my very breath to Her, and so I give Her thanks.”

“Correct,” Lady Aster said, and Cedar breathed a sigh of relief. “Now, you can begin your meditation,” she continued, and Cedar frowned. 

“What? But I–”

“What did I say about speaking?” she asked, and he clamped his mouth shut. “You have learned the shape of the vow. Now, you must learn its meaning.” 

Lady Aster circled him as she spoke, stopping somewhere behind him where he couldn’t see. He wanted to look over his shoulder, to see what she was doing, but he remembered what she had said about moving and forced himself to stay still. 

He had to hold onto the image of the kneeling boy. As horrified as he’d looked, as submissive as he’d been…he hadn’t been bound. 

“To truly understand the vow, you must feel the truth of it deep within yourself. Only then will your spirit align with your words.” 

Just because Cedar was helpless now didn’t mean he always would be. Eventually–

Without warning, Lady Aster grabbed him from behind, her fingers digging into his shoulder. His whole body flinched in response, but her grip only tightened. 

“Struggling will only cause you harm,” she said evenly, and then she pulled the collar around his neck tight against his windpipe. 

Cedar gasped, his arms jerking against their bonds as every thought in his mind was replaced with the instinct to pull the leather away from his throat, but the chains held true, and the more he struggled, the less air he was able to bring into his lungs. 

“Still yourself, Initiate Cedar,” Lady Aster said, her voice infuriatingly calm. 

She circled back around to stand in front of him, looking down at him as he fought for air. 

“Breathe slowly. Feel the strain as your body cries out for air, desperate for life. This is the nature of your soul, of all souls, without the presence of Perivyta to guide us. Do you understand?” 

“Y-yes,” Cedar gasped. He tried to look up and meet her eyes, but the chain on the front of his collar still held fast. “Please…”

“Now, begin your meditation,” Lady Aster ordered, ignoring his plea. “I will keep count of your recitations. If at any point you falter on the words, we will start over from the beginning.” 

Cedar hung his head.

“I– I am a Seed,” he choked out. “As a Seed, I am–” 

He tried to inhale, the short sentence already enough to wind him, but what little air he managed to take in was nowhere near enough. 

“I am helpless. I am dependent on Perivyta for every gift of life. I owe–” 

He shut his eyes and forced the words out.

“I owe my very breath to Her…and so I give Her thanks.” 

Lady Aster nodded in approval. 

“One,” she said simply. “Again.” 

“I am a Seed. As a Seed, I am helpless. I am dependent on Perivyta for every gift of life. I owe my very breath to Her, and so I give Her thanks.”

“Two.” 

“I am a Seed. As a Seed, I am helpless. I am dependent on Perivyta for every gift of life. I owe my very breath to Her, and so I give Her thanks.”

Slowly, the world went fuzzy around the edges, as over and over again, Cedar spoke the words. His mind was spinning, threatening to send him into unconsciousness, but every time he felt himself slip, he dug his nails into his palms. If he slipped away, he might falter, and if he faltered…

He didn’t know what number they were counting to, but he couldn’t start over again. 

He wasn’t sure he’d survive if they did. He wasn’t even sure he’d survive if they didn’t. 

How long, he wondered, could you go on living without air?

“Thirty five. Once more, Initiate,” Lady Aster said, and Cedar braced himself.

“I am a Seed. As a Seed, I am helpless.” He forced his eyes open and looked up at Lady Aster, begging silently with his eyes. “I am dependent on Perivyta for every gift of life. I owe my very breath to Her, and so I give Her thanks.”

Wordlessly, Lady Aster knelt down in front of him, her eyes locking with his. 

“And so I too give thanks,” she said, then she reached around his neck and loosened the buckle on his collar. 

Air flooded his lungs so quickly that Cedar choked on his first full breath. Lady Aster watched in silence as he coughed and gasped, tears of relief springing to his eyes. He was still lightheaded, but the blackness at the edge of his vision was beginning to retreat, and he could feel some strength returning to his aching limbs. 

“This is the power of Perivyta,” Lady Aster said. “This is the life she gives. Do you feel it coursing through you?” 

Cedar nodded wordlessly, tears of relief welling in his eyes. He’d survived. Not that he thought the girl meant to kill him; in fact, he was almost certain now that he was meant to stay alive. He could sense something in her demeanor, a perverse kind of earnestness that told him that she really, truly believed herself when she said that this was for his own good, that this was a gift. 

“Without her we are nothing; merely husks of what we are meant to be. If we do not let her in, we do not truly live.”

Lady Aster got to her feet, then she stepped behind him again and Cedar’s relief evaporated in an instant.

“No, wait…” he begged, but her hands on his shoulders silenced him. 

“It is through repetition that we reach true understanding,” she said. 

“No, please don’t, please–” 

The collar went tight around his throat, his air and his pleas cut off in one uncaring motion. 

“Begin again,” Lady Aster commanded, and Cedar took a strangled breath. 

“I am a Seed.” 

A single tear rolled down his cheek, and he shut his eyes against the world. 

“As a Seed, I am helpless.”

— — —

Prev: Rejoice in Her Pruning || Next: Honor and Obey

Tenets of Growth Masterlist

Author's Notes: Finally, all the vows and rituals and tenets that I wrote out for Cedar and Aster will start to get some air time! Tagging @whumplr-reader per her request, if you'd like to be tagged as well, let me know!

[sapphicccici]

OC Intros !!

All of my characters are currently in prison at a place called "Neostage". Neostage is luxurious. It doesn't seem like a prison. The prisoners are treated as celebrities but are forced to fight each other to the death each month like gladiators. The more popular and profitable are brought back to life and the least marketable/popular die permanently.

Neostage and the universe it belongs to were created by my amazing creative and talented girlfriend @kabie-whump

Detali Gamble 🐍

Detali is a girlboss. She is in prison for murder, but if you ask her it was vigilante justice. She murdered men who abused women, and she wasn't caught until her 8th kill.

Listen to her playlist here.

Makkel Dextri ☄️

Makkel was created by @kabie-whump and she did this portrait!

Makkel was arrested for smuggling. He is a big softie despite what you would usually see about him in media. He is undefeated in neostage. He is always the last man standing.

You can listen to his playlist here.

Cossim Vect 🧨

Cossim was created by @kabie-whump and she also made this portrait!!

Cossim was arrested for building and selling weapons (mostly bombs). He is a fuckboy (I say with love). He has a special arrangement with his only sponsor, Noroshi Industries, where he can work on developing tech and weapons while in neostage. He frequently loses fights :/

Listen to his playlist here.

[painsandconfusion]

Don'nt you just fucking love it when a caretaker (especially a leader) has to be physically held back by two or more people to keep from desperately charging in to save someone they can't possibly save? The screaming and the mindless struggling as they try to get to their doomed teammate.

As they watch the blood spill. As they're tugged backwards and to safety with feet kicking dragging against the ground.

Useless.

[whumblr]

Whump prompt #68

"You know, it's so good that we've spent all this time together," Whumper purred, straddling Whumpee's waist, hands around their throat, gradually leaning more weight on them, squeezing harder.

"We know all about each other," he said, looking deep into their widening eyes. "I know precisely what you can handle, see when you are about to pass out. You know when I will stop. You know I like seeing your squirm, feeling you squirm under my hands, seeing you come back from that brink, wheezing and gasping for the air that I allow you to have. You know I won't kill you by choking the life out of you."

A sly sideglance to Caretaker, who kept struggling harder against his bonds, muffled screams turning more and more desperate with every second as Whumpee went redder and more rigid. A smile and he looked back at Whumpee.

"But he doesn't."

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

today’s prompt for whump writers:

whumper drugged whumpee with substance that wouldn’t render whumpee completely unconscious, but would make them groggy and defenseless, too disoriented to do anything but lay there and slowly blink with occasional moan as whumper did whatever they wanted to them.

I don’t know about you, but personally this type of forced surrender trope gives me whumperflies every time 🥹