#the kind commander

[whump-me-all-night-long]

Whumptober 2023 Masterlist

So, this year for October, I'll be doing three stories:

1. Bleeding Leads

Investigative journalist Devin Connally decides to dig a little deeper on philanthropist and millionaire Erik Wildre after receiving a strange note and stumbles across a very dangerous underground world. (TWs: nonbinary whumpee, creepy whumper, captivity, lil dehumanization, normal physical whumpiness, and uh non-con touching *explicitly warned*)

2. Midsummer Nightmare

The second son to the fae king, Ikalos finds a human, farmhand Arne, lost on the outskirts of the forest and, having been bored recently, decides to acquire himself a new pet. (TWs: human whumpee, fae whumper, mind control, compulsion, pet whump, intimate whumper)

3. The Kind Commander

When fresh recruit turned spy Elexandyr Winch gets caught behind enemy lines, the cruel captain Ulysses Hawk takes a liking to him--and uses the guise of "gathering information" to play with his food, and it isn't until the enemy general Kristofer Glass visits that Lex Winch really starts to feel like he's in trouble. (TWs: military whump, systematic whump(?), power dynamics, torture, carewhumper)

Now, for the list of days:

Day 1: Drugging Day 2: Exhaustion Day 3: Isolation Day 4: ALT 18: Misunderstanding Day 5: Kidnapping Day 6: Mind control Day 7: Restrained Day 8: ALT 6: Crying to sleep Day 9: Interrogation Day 10: Branding Day 11: ALT 8: Electrocution Day 12: ALT 9: Forced feeding Day 13: ALT 24: Words carved into skin Day 14: Bleeding through the bandages Day 15: Muzzle Day 16: ALT 11: Suffocation Day 17: “You look a little pale” Day 18: ALT 29: Prison Day 19: Left behind Day 20: Master and servant Day 21: Blood loss Day 22: Punishment Day 23: Begging Day 24: Failed escape Day 25: ALT 30: Silent treatment Day 26: ALT 26: Non-con touching Day 27: Locked away Day 28: Oxygen deprivation Day 29: Bargaining Day 30: Mind games Day 31: ALT 12: Abandoned

Taglists under the cut: (ask if you want to be added)

Bleeding Leads: @panic-whump @cupcakes-and-pain @lonesome--hunter @latenightcupsofcoffee @badluck990

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

The Kind Commander: @theelvishcowgirl @misspelledwitch @i-eat-worlds @shywhumpauthor @the-dump-of-whump

[theribbajack]

"Now, the vow will be honoured, and my Lord brother's soul will return."

Radahn stans keep winning, but I personally am in Miyazaki's walls rn

[keferon]

Guys. Guys they’re miners. They’re tiny cogless miners. Guys

I blacked out and filled the whole three canvases with sketches of them being itty bitty goobers. Figured Imma show you some haha

[largemandrill]

I made another one

[delhe-dalim]

Oh Mayday... Warm colors cuz he deserves some warmth 🥹

[wuthering-tempest]

dads and the pet they didnt want

[starwarjotta]

kissy codywan (I'm a bit late but this is absolutely for @dontbelasagnax's codywan kissing agenda)

[muyru-iru]

Commander Fox: I was rejected too, Bly. It happens to everyone once in a while. Commander Bly: HOw?! You never loved someone out of your range! Commander Fox: I tried to send a decommission request for myself. It was denied right away. Bly (as a brother): ...Fox. Why.

[shittybundaskenyer]

stranded enemy soldiers during the first contact war au has me in a chokehold. rest is on ao3 because it's a bit spicy :))

[redbean-nom]

A handful of "Boba Fetts" (none of them know what his armor actually looks like)

[whump-me-all-night-long]

The Kind Commander

AI-less Whumptober Day 2: Exhaustion

Masterlist

TW: military whump, power dynamics, multiple whumpees, lex is a fucking dumbass that's what

---

Lex Winch groaned as he slowly rose to consciousness. Confused as to what had awoken him, he sat up wearily, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with a frown. 

As soon as he sat up, though, his memories came flooding back to him. 

The recon mission. The ambush. The death of his squad. The capture of the remaining two. 

Of his half-dozen member squad, only Lex and his friend, Isaac Lidgett, had been able to stay alive. And even then, Lex couldn’t decide whether their dead squadmates were the luckier ones. The Skoaxians were infamous for their brutality and poor treatment of their prisoners. Especially those under the command of Captain Ulysses Hawk.

Sighing, Lex stared up blankly at the muddy green of the tent fabric above him, wondering, not for the first time, just how exactly he had ended up in this situation. 

One day,  he was only a few months away from getting his masters in Ancient and Classical Literature, and then the next thing he knew, Skoaxia had attacked and Nascines had been forced to retaliate, never mind the thousands of innocent Nascinites who had been drafted and sent off to die.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Lex forced himself to take an inventory of his surroundings, the phantom voice of his old commander, Vyctore Bray, barking orders at him. Of course, Bray had been blown to smithereens right in front of him a few weeks back. Still, he had taught Lex valuable survival skills.

Keep an eye on your surroundings at all times. Make sure you see what’s around you, not just from your perspective, but from your enemy’s too.

Don’t play the hero. Heroes die. Painfully. Be a survivor. That’s the best way you’ll be able to help anyone.

Don’t be stupid, Winch. You hear me, boy? You’ve got a mouth on you and that might just end up getting a bullet put into your skull one day.

Looking around, Lex saw only the dark green of the thick tarp-like fabric, the two wooden poles holding it up, and battered dirt beneath it. A thick steel chain connected both of Lex’s ankles to the base of one of the poles, giving him just enough leeway for a couple teetering steps but nothing more. The other pole had an identical chain leading into a crumpled pile of dirty and torn up fabric.

Swallowing, Lex whispered, voice hoarse and raspy, “Lidgett, is that you?” 

The pile of fabric twitched, moving slowly into a slumped, sitting position. Through the grime, Lex was able to make out the startlingly pale green of Isaac’s eyes and the coppery curls that bounced down his forehead; although, now, his eyes were darkened and swollen, heavy bags hanging underneath them, and his hair was stained darker with blood—both his and others’—and the curls were tangled and limp.

“Winch?” Isaac answered, before dissolving into a violent coughing fit. Lex frowned as he saw what looked to be dark spots appearing on Isaac’s sleeve, before he wiped his mouth and it disappeared. “What happened?”

Lex sighed, pulling his knees close to his chest and leaning back against the thick wooden pole. “We were ambushed, remember? Everyone- everyone else is dead.”

“Shit,” Isaac sighed, letting his head thump against his own pole. “I was hoping that was just another shitty nightmare.”

The two slipped into a precarious silence, neither knowing what to say to the other. The obvious hung in the air around them, heavy.

They only need one of us. Two is more liability. 

Lex was just starting to try to figure out how to broach the topic when footsteps sounded from outside the tent. One of the tent flaps swished open, momentarily blinding Lex with the sunlight, before it fell closed again.

There was now a man standing in front of them. Lex knew immediately, without having to hear a single word, who he was. Those gray eyes, so dark they appeared black, and that black hair, buzzed low and neat, were the elements of horror stories around Nascinite fires. More than anything, though, it was the scar, long and unnaturally straight, cutting down against the outer corner of his left eye, running the length of his face that gave the man away.

Captain Ulysses Hawk.

Judging by Isaac’s sharp inhale, he also recognized the man standing in front of them.

Captain Hawk smiled, humorless, showing teeth just as straight and neat as his hair. “I’m assuming you boys recognize me then.” Lex didn’t even bother getting annoyed at his use of ‘boys’; despite the fact that he couldn’t be more than ten or so years older than them, the experience that Hawk had made them seem like utter infants compared to him.

“What, uh, what do you want?” Lex asked softly, hating the way his voice trembled. “Sir?” he added on belatedly.

Hawk narrowed his eyes, gaze slowly scanning up and down Lex. “Private Elexandyr Winch, I presume.” Not bothering to wait for confirmation, he squatted down in front of Lex, nose wrinkling at the dirt, mud, and dried blood that caked nearly every inch of him. “You, as well as Private Isaac Lidgett-” his eyes darted towards him before refocusing on Lex- “are now prisoners of the Skoaxian army. I, as I’m sure you’re well aware, am Captain Ulysses Hawk.” He smirked. “Welcome to Camp Ironglass.”

Isaac muttered something—either a curse or a prayer—under his breath as Lex’s stomach sank. Ironglass was the most infamous of all the Skoaxian camps, partially due to the cruelty of Captain Hawk.

Swallowing, Lex looked up into Hawk’s eyes, feeling as though, if he looked for too long, he could get lost in that inky abyss. “What do you plan to do with us? Sir.”

Letting out a soft chuckle, Hawk reached forward to capture Lex’s chin in an unbreakable grasp. Instinctively, Lex flinched back, too slow, and he had no choice but to allow Hawk to slowly move his head, studying him intently. Finally, he spoke: “I am going to do whatever I please, Private Winch. And there is nobody in this camp, not you, not the other prisoners, not even the other officers, who can stop me.”

A chill crept down Lex’s spine and his breath seemed to freeze in his lungs as Hawk slowly released his chin and stood up, still maintaining unwavering eye contact. Finally, he smiled again, turning away from them. “I do hope you boys enjoy your stay here.”

Then he was gone.

---

Taglist: @ailesswhumptober @theelvishcowgirl @misspelledwitch @i-eat-worlds @shywhumpauthor @the-dump-of-whump

[theriverbeyond]

“I killed wizard’s filth like you all my life, I killed them with guns, and bombs, and knives, and gas, and when I didn’t have any of those I just got in real close and put my thumbs through their fucking eyes. You can flick that little skewer around all you like, boy. I’ll choke you with it.”

[keferon]

…..I should be working rn but one of the songs in my playlist hit harder than usual so

[shalom-iamcominghome]

I've been doing a lot of reflection as of late, especially after this past class.

This past class was about the Torah and Tanakh in general, and the way the rabbi talked about the commandments (specifically the ten commandments) has made me really reflect on how I interpret them, specifically the fifth commandment, or honoring your mother and father.

This is a commandment I have wrestled with for a long time - in fact, it brought me away from g-d at multiple times. I was severely abused when I was incredibly young by my mother, and I used to feel insulted at the implication that I were to honor her while she got to live a better life. It was hypocritical, in my eyes.

But this rabbi surmised that this particular commandment was because parenthood is an act of creation, something that is like the g-d from which we come from. My realization is this: I don't think we're necessarily meant to take even these commandments literally.

I this particular commandment is more of a call to honor creation - creation is a gift, and like any gift, many people simply will not like it and will discard it. The person who abused me created me, but she did not honor creation. She didn't honor me, but I can still honor it.

I have started to honor creation much more. I'm too young, too unstable, not mature enough to be a father (though I fantasize about it), but I create all the time. I create relationships, I create with my hands through crochet. I create memories, I create my world. And I can honor who I am and where I came from that made me who I am. I've been learning one of the mother tongues of my family (Italian, since part of my family originates there) and it was judaism that inspired me to do this.

I don't think g-d wants me to honor my abuser. I think He wants me to remember the Holy action of creation. When I am a father, that act of creation will be Holy, and indeed, I am already joyful about the thought.

I have seen many people struggle with this particular commandment, but I think this perspective helps me personally. I don't think I ever have to forgive my abusers (plural), and I don't think I am commanded to simply because they happened to be family. I am commanded to recognize the holy, to elevate the mundane. In doing so, I will remember g-d. Through creation, I honor g-d and everything he has done for us, for me, and for our collective people.

[mroddmod]

hi. i made a clone oc :3 i’ll post more of him, his men, and his generals soon 🫶

[eobe]

Crosshair and Mayday 🫶🏼 and the black ice vulture from the outpost on Barton IV.

This is my ‚the outpost‘ appreciation, because this episode always got me under my skin.

I get goosebumps, especially when this bird appears. It has a very strong symbolism for Crosshair. Strong, sharp eyes and claws, focussed and alone 🦅

And Mayday is truly Crosshair‘s ‚mayday‘. The last must, that he needs to grow out of his imperial hyperfocus hurt ego and hurt heart trip ✨

War is shit. This episode shows us, that war is dirty and nothing but a wastage of lives, time and ressources and also the inner war of a character who has to get out of his comfort zone he had sunken in almost too deep. We can learn from this heavy example, that it’s never too late to make big decisions and start to grow, even when it hurts to face oneself.

I‘m rambling… ☺️ Maybe because Autumn is coming and I love ��to fall‘ 🍂 to get myself cosy and seclusive 🫖 to ask myself the big questions and slowly grow into the best version of myself ✨

So what do you think about that? Let me know, I love deep talk 🫶🏼