Tumgik
#deceit whump
whumperer-86 · 9 months
Text
Delightfully Deceitful ep14 (shot Whump)
In the scene when the whumpee is trying to breathe after the shot while bleeding that's very good whump
70 notes · View notes
Checkmate
Ship: Anxceit (Whumpee!Virgil, Whumper!Janus)
CW/TW: (be aware that what I am about to describe is not censored.) graphic themes and descriptions of violence, this includes: forcing someone to relapse with self injury, allusion to past self harm, cutting someone with a knife, mind games/emotional abuse, malnourishment/starvation, talk of weight in numbers, themes of suicide and suicidal ideation (this is pretty detailed, you have been warned.)
Summary: After Virgil joins the light sides, Janus slowly reaches a psychotic break due to abandonment and feelings of betrayal and takes it upon himself to take Virgil back to where he belongs, via kidnapping him and holding him in the dark side of the mind palaces basement, AKA the subconscious.
A/N: this is my first time writing Whump, so If anything feels rushed or misplaced please understand that I am a beginner to writing these kinds of things. I am personally not open to (constructive) criticism—I am really sensitive when it comes to things I’m passionate about 😭—so please, let me learn at my own pace if things do need to be changed around a bit, thank you!<3
(I’m editing this at 12:44 AM because I can’t sleep so, uh, surprise oneshot release I guess? Idk 😭🙏🏻)
———————————————————————
Janus’ eyes glimmered as he stared at the rusty chains that were around Virgil’s wrists, the ones keeping him shackled against the wall of the basement, leaving his arms raised up in the air and his legs crisscrossed beneath him. Virgil’s head had fallen against his chest in defeat after trying to scream into the dark abyss for help again, quickly realizing that his pleas wouldn’t be heard with the muffling of a rag in his mouth.
His lower jaw poked at his collarbones with horrendous uncomfortability from the consequences of malnourishment. He was already relatively small—around 115 pounds or so—and the past few days without food were weighing on him. His bones protruded like knives against his skin. You could see the outline of his collarbones to his shoulder blades through his torn up band tee. His bangs—or what was left of them—had fallen over his eyes, keeping him from seeing Janus whose gaze had shifted to Virgils face, eerily delighted.
Virgil thrashed his head around—though in reality more like hazily bobbed it in circles—trying his hardest to spit out the aforementioned rag that Janus had put there after his lazy attempt at being noticed by the others on the second day of his kidnapping. On the first, Janus had knocked him out hard enough to where he drifted in and out of consciousness, leaving Janus enough time to chain him up without a struggle. Despite the chains, he actually thought he could trust Virgil to not scream for help. He was wrong, hence, the rag.
It had now been five and a half days since his initial kidnapping, and the light sides seemed to have gone off of the deep end…almost. Patton had shut down, preventing himself from feeling any kind of emotion due to the fact that if he even shed one tear, it would lead to a messy and disgusting breakdown. Logan wouldn’t come out of his room for anything at all, as he was drowning himself in as much work as possible, writing and re-writing scripts even if he thought they were already pristine and perfect as was, he needed something to keep himself from flying off the hinges. And Roman was…quiet, withdrawn. He wasn’t his usual ego-centric self anymore, he was timid, almost like a ghost or a shell of who he once was. You could practically call him a people-pleaser. All of them had their own ways of grasping for the tiniest bit of control they had left, and it was shocking to see what came out of it.
But Virgil couldn’t comprehend any of this as Janus updated him on it day by day, Janus’ way of slowly ripping Virgils freshly acquired healthy emotional state apart by using his new “found family” as a means of revenge for the gaping would of abandonment Virgil had left him with. Hell, between Virgils drug induced haze and all the sheer sharp pain searing throughout his body, he could barely comprehend where he was. But one thing stopped him from forgetting his new surroundings completely, and that was Janus.
Janus leaned down and took Virgil’s face in his hands roughly, forcing Virgil to look him in the eyes. Virgil’s eyes were dim and worn out, as if he wasn’t all there, like he was somewhere else in his head. He looked so, so very tired. It was almost thrilling for Janus. Virgil had always been one to get lost in his head as a way of coping with things that were out of his control.
“I think,” Janus hissed, the sound full of no-longer suppressed anger and a slight tinge of fear over the fact that Virgil could have been found had he not noticed his pitiful cries when he did a few days ago, “we should play a game.”
The small lightbulb that hung from a loose wire (seemingly appearing from thin air, there was no way to tell where the lightbulbs origin came from) between them illuminated the human side of Janus’ face harshly, putting the crazed look in his eyes on display for only Virgil to see. It felt like Janus could see into his soul, read his thoughts, know every gritty detail of everything that he had ever done down to the way he breathed whilst doing it, just by staring at him.
Virgil’s eyes narrowed as Janus’ thumb ran over his busted lip. If it weren’t for the rag stuffed in his mouth to muffle his cries for help, he would have bit it clean off. Instead, he let the small amount of fury left in him ignite behind his eyes as he stared into Janus’, not moving any longer. He was confused and scared, and when those things were combined, it usually turned into anger. Rage, even. But It was as if the moment Janus touched him, he froze on impact.
“What do you think?” Janus prompted, hand still firmly on Virgil’s jaw. His voice may have been smooth, but his grasp stayed there to show control.
Janus smiled at the incoherent sounds coming from behind the bloodied rag. He laughed to himself, amused by the struggle. “Ah, I forgot about your little…predicament.” He ribbed, pulling out the soaking rag with ease.
Virgil inhaled harder than he’d ever before, taking in as much oxygen as possible. It had been days since that rag had been placed there; a precaution so that were the search for Thomas’ anxiety to continue and a meeting be pursued once more, they wouldn’t hear much from upstairs. Virgil winced a bit at the memory of Janus’ footsteps quickly echoing throughout the basement and walking up to him. (“tsk, I thought you would’ve been smart enough to know not to scream. Here, let me help you with that.” He had said, hastily shoving a clean rag forcefully into his mouth, rendering Virgil silent; mostly because of fear but also because of shock. He had absolutely no clue why Janus was doing any of this.) It also didn’t help that the dark mind palaces basement was usually hot and stuffy already, which made the struggle to breathe worse; especially if you had to rely on only breathing through your nose, which was broken, meaning the little oxygen he could muster wasn’t enough, leading him to pass out only a few minutes after regaining consciousness, over and over and over again over the past 84 hours.
“Let…go of…me.” Virgil demanded, panting. He struggled against his chains, trying to wriggle his way out of them. His wrists ached as they strained against the cuffs around them.
Janus grabbed Virgils arms firmly, chains rattling, rag dripping blood and saliva down Virgil’s right arm. “No need for that, sweetheart. I’m not going to hurt you again. Not yet.”
His lips curled upwards slightly at the fear that shocked through Virgil at such simple words. He watched as the hair on Virgil’s arms began to stick up, his arms covered in goosebumps. It was absolutely hilarious to Janus that Virgil had no clue what was coming at any given moment.
Virgil could put on a defiant act all he wanted, but his body would always show how he truly felt: Afraid, Horrified, Helpless.
It was a beautiful sight to see someone at the mercy of his actions considering he had always felt helpless against the others, it was nice to feel in control for once. …And also quite pathetic how hard Virgil tried to stop him from achieving that feeling of powerfulness.
“How about a game of chess?” Janus suggested, throwing the rag to the ground, sounding more demanding than anything else. His nails dug deep into Virgil’s wrists, letting him know that if he didn’t answer correctly, there would be consequences. Though, from all of the times he’d seen Virgils eyes light up from winning against Logan in a Chess match, he knew he would probably say yes anyway. Not that Virgil knew that he knew that.
That sparkle in his eyes. It was almost as if Virgil felt like he could finally do something right.
In Virgils drug addled mind, something…clicked. Chess? Since when did Janus know that he had gotten good at Chess? Unless he was…
his eyes almost brimmed with tears at the thought of such an invasive act,
Watching him.
Despite such a heart dropping realization, Virgil nodded, slowly. Even though it had only been a few days, he was numb to any minor pain Janus inflicted upon him anymore. If it wasn’t worth bleeding, it wasn’t worth focusing on, or atleast that’s the mindset he was set on adapting to get through this. Who knew how long Janus would keep him here? how long this would last? But the pressure against his wrists served as a warning, so he gave Janus the answer he wanted. Or so he thought.
The pressure increased as Janus dug his nails deeper, pricking the pale skin a bit. “You speak when you’re spoken to, Virgil.” he ordered, “Or do I need to remind you?” he asked, nodding towards the blood stained knife on the floor; A reminder of Virgils previous mistakes.
Virgil shook his head frantically, “No, no, you don’t” he begged, mouth still tasting of metal from where he was forced to lick up his own blood from the cuts up and down his arm. “A chess game sounds nice, really.”
Janus hummed, satisfied with Virgils response. “Perfect. Well then, I suppose I should explain the rules.” He dropped Virgil’s arms and let them fall into place with the chains, then summoned a chess set and sat it on the ground next to the knife, eyeing the way Virgil tried to breathe in a rhythmic pattern. He really didn’t think he was getting out of this. How glorious.
“If I win, we pick up where we left off last night,” Janus recited, hinting back to only ten hours ago when he was burying a knife deep into Virgils arm. “If you win, I may dress your wounds properly this time.” he watched Virgil as his eyes closed and snapped back open time and time again, barely taking in anything Janus was saying. He was sleep deprived, Janus was sure of it. He had already planned this out ahead of time, so the results were finally setting in. Janus had dissolved a few…”unknown sleeping pills” into Virgils drink the night before after Janus had his fun with the sharpest knife blade he could find, making sure Virgil was extremely drowsy and paranoid, but not too drowsy and paranoid, because otherwise, what’s the fun in that?
Oh, and the “sleeping pills” were actually Janus’ antipsychotics, but Virgil didn’t need to know that.
He kept Virgil awake for two and a half days straight, slicing open the old wounds on his arms. Turning the faded self inflicted cuts into newer, deeper, non-self inflicted ones. Sometimes he forced Virgil to do it himself as he watched, making him restart if there wasn’t enough blood for his liking. Virgil deserved this for leaving him, so the least he could do was cause a bloody mess.
Janus hoisted Virgil up and carefully unlocked the cuffs on his wrists with a small key from his pocket, holding him as his body gave out against Janus’.
Even through the fog of Virgils mental state, and the amount of adrenaline pumping through his veins, and the exhaustion that crept up on him so suddenly over the past few days, he was cognizant enough to understand that not being able to stand up on his own two feet was humiliating. The weakness and feebleness of his body and state of mind were meant to make him feel humiliated. And unfortunately for him, it was working. Janus was succeeding.
Janus, using this as a moment to exert power over his captive, whispered in his ear. “Bring your all, Virgil.”
Virgil vaguely acknowledged the phrase as something Patton would say to him before every match. Eyes glistening, like a proud father-figure. (“You did great last time Virge! Logan was so mad that you won against him that when you left to go back to your room to listen to that PG-13 music, he used one of those slang words the kids use these days. I can’t remember exactly what it was...I think it started with a C? I don’t know, but I’m so proud of you!” Patton had said, so joyous and amazed. Virgil had given him a half-smile and shrugged it off as Patton just being Patton.)
Virgil almost started sobbing then and there; finally feeling a wave of emotion crash over him other than rage and terror for the first time in what felt like forever, but in actuality had only been a few days. A few tears slipped past him, leaving behind a trembling lip in their wake. He clung to Janus for some sort of sick comfort, Janus being the only thing he had right now, even if he was the one causing all of this.
Janus tensed and snickered, pulling away from Virgil and yanking him to the ground, looking down at him through fiery eyes. “Don’t be so emotional already, we’ve barely even started” he rubbed his arms with his hands as if Virgils mere touch had deemed his upper arms distasteful, “and don’t cling to me like that again, it’s disgusting.”
Virgil wiped at his tears obediently, trying to put on a blank face for his captor. He just wanted to go back home. To sit with Patton and Roman and make homemade hot chocolate while bickering over the appeal of the newest Disney shows. His chest hurt, likely from the drugs and blood loss, but also likely because of his longing for his actual family, not whatever this was. Whatever it used to be.
Janus sat down on the opposite side of the board, and slowly removed his gloves, placing them next to him on top of each other and started setting up the pieces.
“Let the game begin.” He stated after a few moments had passed and the board had been properly set up, prompting Virgil to move his first piece.
Virgil reached out reluctantly, placing one of the pieces further on the checkered board. Almost knocking it over as he pulled his hand away as fast as he could, not wanting to be close to Janus.
Janus smirked, noticing this, as he placed one of his pieces further on the board aswell. Deep down, he was hurt by Virgils need to stay as a far as possible, however. Not that it mattered, he could always punish Virgil for that little stunt of emotion later down the line.
This back and forth continued for at least twenty-five minutes, before Virgil could feel the walls closing in around him. He looked at the board in desperation, praying to God that maybe, just maybe if he stared long enough the pieces would maneuver themselves to where he could win.
It didn’t happen.
Janus had him stuck, unable to move without getting defeated. In this sick game, and in real life. It was as if Janus was making a mockery of his own doings.
Virgil moved the piece on the board with a shakey hand, trembling from the dread of what he knew was to come, and looked up at Janus; fear evident in his eyes.
Janus took a breath and moved his piece in front of Virgils quickly, as if he had been waiting for this moment his whole life.
“Checkmate, Virge.”
Virgil stared at the board, filled with shame and regret. He used to be a pro at Chess, and now he was watered down to this. He couldn’t meet Janus’ burning gaze as he stared at him from across the board. Any glint of hope for his future here that he had behind his eyes had been crushed and faded away completely. He was certain that he was going to die here before Patton or any of the others found him. And if he didn’t die, it would become so bad that he would beg Janus to make him do it to get it over with.
Janus got up and pulled Virgil to his feet, clasping the cuffs around his wrists again, not willing to waste any time, taking notice of the newfound compliance.
Janus laughed a little as he picked up the knife, running a finger over the blade. “You know, I really thought you would have been good at that,” he placed the base of the blade on Virgil’s arm and began to drag it agonizingly slow. “I guess it just goes to show that you really are incompetent.”
He watched the blood drip down Virgils forearm, “what a shame, really. You probably would have gone on to be a real good player,” he teased, “probably even better than Logan. I mean I saw the way that blood vessel in his head almost popped from stress and frustration during your match a week or so ago.”
Janus watched as Virgil grit his teeth so hard he thought he would break them from trying not to scream. The confession and the pain were almost too much emotional and psychical trauma for Virgil to bear.
Janus ran a finger over the fresh cuts, looking up at Virgil with nothing but malice in his eyes. “Too bad you’re stuck here now, you really could have been something.”
“Please…please, I’ll do anything, please just make it stop!!” Virgil whimpered, actually thrashing now, a drastic difference from what he had meant to do earlier. He couldn’t handle it anymore, it was all starting to dawn on him. He wasn’t getting out of here. He wasn’t getting out.
“Keep begging, it’s not like I’m going to stop. You’re selfish, that’s all you are. You think you can leave me to pick up the pieces of your abandonment and expect not to face the consequences? I don’t think so.” Janus threatened, slapping Virgil’s arm, causing stinging pain to shoot its way through him. He took the knife back to Virgils skin, digging deeper into the wounds he already created, using his rage as a source to block out the cries of his former best friend. Virgil used to be like a brother to him, but none of that mattered now. This was Virgils fault, he chose this.
Virgil’s hands curled into loose fists with the little energy he had left within himself, desperately trying to wrap his head around Janus’ reasoning but ultimately failing to be able to think of anything due to the hot and awful pain that washed upon him every few seconds. That was why Janus was doing this? His acceptance? He let out animalistic sobs every time the blade met his flesh. None of it made sense. His head hurt and all he wanted was to drop to his knees and bleed out, leaving himself a cold shell of a person. Anything but this. Anything but this. As much as he loved the others, he wanted anything but this.
Eventually, Janus dropped the knife on the floor, blood splattering in every direction. He was tired, and Virgil was beginning to pass out which meant that the fun wouldn’t be able to last any longer. After all, it’s no fun torturing someone when you can’t see the outcome of your work.
He flicked his wrist and summoned a small baggie of crushed up antipsychotic medication and a glass of water, carefully pouring it into the glass in front of his captive. It didn’t matter if Virgil saw what he was doing, what could he do about it? Absolutely nothing.
“Open your mouth.” He instructed sternly. Virgil listened and he tilted the glass back with precision, making sure no droplets of water fell down Virgils face and on to the ground.
Janus set the glass down beside him, “don’t say I never did anything for you” he mumbled, turning on his heel and heading back upstairs to the commons as if nothing had happened.
Janus’ footsteps slowly faded and a door opened. Virgil could hear Remus cackling in the distance, and even though he didn’t exactly know what was so funny, it was presumable that it was about the state of his family. The others were falling apart with the lack of him being around, or that was at least as far as he knew with the “help” of Janus.
Virgil let his legs give out from underneath him and curled in on himself as best he could, searching for the warmth of his own body heat, not necessarily because he was cold, but because he was desperate to feel the warmth of a comforting presence, even if that meant it had to be himself.
He tried to ignore the throbbing pain in his arms by thinking of Patton. Sweet, tender and kind, Patton. Patton who was always there when he had night terrors and was screaming for help, crawling into Virgils bed and cradling him gently until he was conscious enough to know what had happened, and then staying until he fell back asleep. Patton who always let him hold on to his shoulders when the panic attacks got so bad he couldn’t stand upright because he was so dizzy. Patton who always had a cheesy dad joke no matter the severity of the situation. Patton.
It hurt more than any of the psychical pain combined to miss him. He would rather die right now than miss such a sweet soul. If Patton were here, he would have bandaged him up so gently he would have barely even felt it, while humming softly to distract Virgil from the fear and uncertainty burrowing deep in his stomach.
Tears fell down his face as his eyelids finally fluttered close, not being disturbed by a jarring malicious voice ready for revenge. He could finally sleep.
Though, how do you sleep peacefully knowing you’ll probably never get out of a nightmare?
10 notes · View notes
lil-toastie-boi · 7 months
Text
anyone wanna do rps with me on discords? specifically sander sides rps and more specifically mainly Janus whump? wheres hes the one bein hurt. my discord is liltoastieboi if you wanna rp!
4 notes · View notes
kaadaaan · 2 months
Text
Bleed into my open mouth will you, won't you?
Summary: Simon Riley never learned to let go. He lets the pain follow him, swallow him, devour him whole.
For once, he wants to be the one who consumes.
Warnings: Dead dove do not eat, cannibalism, blood and gore, whump, hurt no comfort, 18+.
A/N: Vague ghoap thing. Not sure what it is actually blacked out wrote it stared at it in horror then proceeded to post it anyways.
“Used to be a butcher, y’know.” Simon breathes into the open air, dragging the cigarette to his lips with an unsteady hand. “When I left school. Smelled like shit, but taught me to be good with knives before I knew I’d need to be.”
The block has been pulled from the wall, torn down and leaving a gaping hole in it’s emptiness. His knives are scattered across the counter, unorganised and glinting in the clinical white light that swings above them. It creaks. He’d tear it down if he didn’t need it.
He’s reminded that he doesn’t need it; that he could close his eyes and bring the cleaver right down where he needs it to be and it would cut clean. He was always good at that bit. Heavy-handed enough so that he never had to sit and hack away at the meat. Not like the other lads. Better. He had a natural affinity for it.
For hacking and sawing and tearing and skinning. For bleeding dry and hooking and hoisting up over his shoulder until his arms burned.
“Wasn’t bad pay either, for a youngin.” He adds. “Got me by. ‘Till I joined up.”
He stubs the cigarette out on the table, pushing it down until the ash whispers out around it and the butt crumples up beneath his fingers. He brushes it away but it leaves a sear stain on the wood.
“Shouldn’t have brought you here, Johnny.” He admits. “Don’t know why I did.”
That’s a lie, and he grimaces at how badly it’s told. Something in him nags, like he should at least do his Sergeant the dignity of seeing the deceit through. Playing it up, they both know he knows how. He hasn’t made it as far as he has without being a liar.
He’s been lying all day. 
Lying to the Captain was the hardest. Not because of any difficulty in doing it, lying came to him easier than breathing did these days. It was knowing the Captain knew he was lying, and knowing he didn’t do anything to stop him. 
God, Simon wanted to say something. He wanted to be stopped. He wanted to be kicked in the teeth and to bleed his own blood into his mouth. Be his own victim for a change. But he didn’t want it enough. Couldn’t help himself, and then again…he never really could.
He could never keep up with his mouth, eyes too slow to catch what he was doing, brain whirring on and on beyond and before what he could trap between his teeth.
“But, you’re here now.” Simon whispers, but the words echo anyways; bouncing off of the checkerboard tiles plastered on the wall. “And I can’t take you back.”
He blindly skims the counter, hand dusting across until the thick of the blade presses a papercut into his thumb. Then, he closes his fist around the handle. Knuckles click, chains rattle as he ambles around the room.
It’s an art. A dirty art.
But Johnny is beautiful. Johnny is clean. The morgue did a good job; painted the warmth back into his skin, the redness back into his lips so it looks like the blood’s still flowing. Simon leans over, thumbs the cold, cracking skin there and smears the lipstick away. Rubs until it comes off on his own skin, and there’s only pale white death left on Johnny’s mouth.
He streaks a line of it across his own. It smells chemical, dries too quick on his skin. 
The light creaks again.
Simon clatters his free fist against it, drawing back and back again until the strip hangs lopsided and flickers out of life. The darkness swallows him whole, buries the room in it. His eyes adjust quick, enough to see the outline of Johnny’s bicep- where it attaches to the shoulder.
It’s art.
The moment he brings the cleaver down, it’s art. When the blade lodges into the table and he doesn’t bother to yank it out, it’s art. He cradles the cut in his hand, softly dislodges it from any stringing cartilage attaching it to the shoulder and runs his fingers over the separation, buries into the now loose muscle, the blood bubbling up around his nail beds and burrowing beneath the overhang.
It’s art. It’s art. It’s art. It’s beauty, it’s creation not desecration.
The ashes wouldn’t be enough. He’d have to share them, split them. Halve and quarter them and quarter them again until he gets maybe an eighth. Simon can’t bear to lose a morsel of him. 
A scribbled recipe sits untouched by the oven. Simon’s eye catches the crinkle of the paper, the yellowing sheet crumpled and then smoothed out over the countertop.
He can’t keep up with his mouth.
His teeth vanish into the cut of flesh, incisors cracking against canines, molars clinging to what meat they can find. It’s acrid in his mouth, his tongue swims in the blood that floods there. He pulls too hard, the arm almost slipping out of his grasp as he yanks his head back in some failed cinematic replica of how he’s seen the consumption go in films. 
It doesn’t go down easy, fights every inch of his mouth and gullet as he rips it apart with his teeth and sits the chunks on his tongue. He’d laugh if it meant he wouldn’t choke. It’s just like Johnny, to make things so difficult. 
He almost pukes the first mouthful up, has to tenderly set the arm down and grip the table with one hand, barricading over his mouth with the other until the nausea in his stomach settles. Until Johnny settles.
Simon sucks the blood from his teeth, wipes it down with his tongue, content to make it go down with his own saliva out of fear that water might dampen the taste. He’s so used to death that he can’t distinguish the smell of it, but the taste is fresh. Only ever been had second-hand, when too much blood seeps out of the bodies he leaves behind him and taints the air with its decay.
He won’t taste it ever again. Not like this, not this whole, not this fresh. Not if it’s not Johnny.
He could’ve left anyone else at the morgue. Quite happily, he could have visited the body and said his goodbyes and walked away and been okay. 
No one else fills him with the desire to have and be had like Johnny does. 
Looming over the corpse, Simon sighs. He presses a bloody hand to the outline of Johnny’s face, tugs the man’s lips ajar. Sobs into his open mouth. Spits the blood back in, heaves and crushes his eyes shut so he doesn’t have to see. Clumsily travels his fingers down the arm that’s still attached, interlocks their fingers together. He has to curl Johnny’s into his manually. Stiff bone by stiff bone, until they sit, lax, in his own. 
His head wants to apologise, to sew the remaining arm back on and zip Johnny back up in the bag. Put his tux back on and drive him back to the morgue before morning light, take his eighth of the ashes and pour them into a vial he can keep in his jacket pocket.
Shaking and swallowing back salt and iron, Simon peels himself away from Johnny. He fixes the man's fingers back into place, before rounding the table and jiggling the cleaver out of the wood.
The cut of arm feels less heavy, and it’s jagged around the top where the bone peeks out above the mountain of flesh. Simon turns, fumbles for his phone and clicks the flashlight on- angling it at the floor as he drags his feet along the tiles and trudges to the freezer door.
He doesn’t bother with a coat, but winces at the way the cold nips and tugs at his skin. An array of hooks decorate from wall to wall, hanging from ceiling to floor. He presses his thumb into Johnny’s arm, before sinking the meat into a hook- watching the sharp point pierce up through the skin, the tiny squirt of blood that follows it.
A weak apology mumbles it’s way out of his mouth. The bite mark, the chunk missing, makes the meat look ugly. He squeezes a hand around a cold finger, before stepping out and slamming the door behind him.
He squints, and the cleaver glints on the wooden carving desk.
40 notes · View notes
angst-after-dark · 21 days
Text
CW: BBU/BBU-ADJACENT SETTING, MAIN CHARACTER DEATH, DESCRIPTION OF A DEAD BODY, REFERENCED NONCON, REFERENCED CHOKING, ALCOHOL MENTION, DRUG (blink and you'll miss it) MENTION
Peyton belongs to @wildfae-afterdark and is used with permission.
TAGLIST: @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump, @poc-whump, @badgerwhump, @flowersarefreetherapy , @gottawhump, @oddsconvert (thank you so much for beta'ing this), @cepheusgalaxy
*kicks my feet. This has been a year in the making. I probably shouldn't be this happy about a character dying 😅
Tumblr media
Damiel Cartier had not expected to wake up. The last thing they remembered was Sir’s arm wrapped around their throat, cutting off their air supply, with his twitching cock, driving into them from behind. They remembered him cumming and cleaning them. They weren't sure if they'd cum too - probably not. How had this latest round started? How had it gotten so bad they'd been so sure he'd kill them?
Yesterday was a mess, a blur, but there was something hidden by the fog. Something had happened.
They hummed, fingers gently tapping against the metal frame of the bed before they blinked, hesitantly, silently taking a small breath. They were still alive, still breathing, with stiff muscles disobeying their desire to move and contracting in response. The weight of an arm on their bare back forced them to hold their breath and wait. The left side of their face lay completely flat against the smooth, silky sheet, away from Thane but they could feel his face pressed against their side. Laying on their stomach made it difficult to breathe anyway but they didn't try to switch positions again. They stared at the floor where a half-empty bottle of something - Whiskey? Was it whiskey?- sat on its side next to their fingers. Sir must've been in a good mood if he'd been drinking but he usually drank bourbon. Which one of them had made him happy? Dami or Peyton? What had they done?
They blinked again, trying to pull up the memory of drinking, against the flashes of light and color from the LEDs lighting the baseboards around the room. They squeezed their eyes shut, the incessant buzzing sending pinpricks of irritation flooding through them. They hated LEDs.
Thane insisted on them.
Their stomach roiled, lurching violently, as a memory broke through the fog. Soft words drifted across their skin, soaked in bourbon and spat at them through powder-covered lips.
"Teach him to read. Teach him to cook. Fuck him all you want, Sita, but he will always, always come back to me. I am his safety, I am his home and you are wasting your time.”
So….they'd done something with Peyton, again, something that Sir hated. They weren't out of danger yet.
“S-Sir?” They whispered, daring to finally move.
He didn't respond and Dami turned only to tumble out of the bed and onto the floor. Their Sir still didn't wake up. He didn't move or flinch. His face was blue, tilted to the side. His eyes stared blankly ahead, devoid of emotion. They scrambled backward, their eyes locked into the lifeless stare of the dead body before them.
They didn't scream. They'd seen dead bodies before: pets who'd refused to come back to their owners, pet-lib members who'd helped them or gotten in the way, runaways who hadn't been able to survive on their own.
Trainee 626.
No one would ever guess he was a cold blooded murderer with such an innocent look on his face. No one would be able to see past the deceitful facade and, as if to prove to themself that was, Dami refused to look away.
Damiel wasn't a stranger to death but their heart raced, leaping into their throat. They couldn't blink, couldn't miss one tiny, miniscule movement because perhaps, this too, was a game. Perhaps this too was a test. Perhaps, Sir, Thane was still alive.
They needed to check for a pulse. It was clear he wasn't breathing.
They looked down, stomach lurching again as the room bobbed and swayed. They gently took his head into both their hands and held it straight. Thane’s lips parted slightly, as if he were about to say something, so they paused. Their breath stalled, swirling inside lungs that refused to do their job and hold air. He didn't look so dead anymore even with the lack of air and the silence pressing down on them from every corner of the room.
It’s as unfamiliar and strange as it is calming and wrong. It was almost too easy. Thane shouldn't be dead.
That wasn't the way this was supposed to go.
His hair was smooth in their hand. They twisted it between their fingers before tucking the strands behind his ear. It gave them another chance to look at his face. His was still soft but it seemed fake, unnatural, like a life-sized doll or one of those wax statues from that museum Wick had taken them to a few years ago.
And still, there was no pulse.
Dami slumped to their knees, bringing up another stream of watery vomit. It burned, their stomach felt as if it was on fire and their throat was raw as they coughed and spluttered, eyes streaming. Whether they were crying or their body was trying to tear itself apart, they didn't know but the tears blurred their vision as the world spun and pitched once again.
What did they do? What had they done?
They would be blamed for this. They couldn't be sure they weren't to blame for this.
They would be sold, or given back to WRU for a refurb and sold again with no memories of the people they loved or the ones that truly loved them. They'd never see their partners again and as morbid as it was, this was their only chance. They could slip out the gate without anyone seeing them. The staff wouldn't come in for another forty minutes. They couldn't waste time. They've been waiting for this, looking for any chance of an escape, but anxiety still fluttered through their veins.
Could they do this? Could they really leave him here like this?
Dami rocked on their heels, eyes darting around. First, shut off the LEDs so they could think. Their head rang, their thoughts so loud, they couldn't understand a word but they pushed leaden legs forward anyway before pitching themself into a blessedly not quite dark room. The urge to cry overcame them again along with the urge to destroy everything around them.
They packed it away.
There would be a time for that and it wasn't right now. Right now, they needed to dress and break into the safe. Sir always kept at least four thousand dollars in cash there. If they could find his wallet, they could find an atm later before the account was frozen and the card was reported stolen and get more.
Their feet took them forward again, soft hums pitching upwards quickly as they knelt next to the safe.
The machine whirred to life, harsh green lights blinking and demanding a code.
Dami punched in their acquisition date. It clicked open and Dami tapped on the lid, humming and shaking their head. It hadn't changed from last time. Thane had really thought they were dumb. He hadn't expected the pet trained to be observant to observe his movements.
Money in hand and stuffed in their pockets, they went through the mental checklist. Their pass as a retrieval specialist would be in the safe in the library. That would get them out of the city at least.
They needed clothes.
Food.
Sturdy shoes.
A cellphone and a map.
All things they could buy later. The main goal would be to get out of the house.
The playroom locked from the outside but Thane never locked it when he was in there with one of his pets. Dami pushed the door open, flinching and blinking as the brightness of the day's natural light greeted them.
Out of the playroom, but still in the house. Almost free, but not yet.
They didn't look back.
They took the stairs two at a time, nearly tripping in. The house was dead silent (they winced) as they made it to the top of the stairs, almost as if it were holding its breath with them.
Peyton slept soundly in their bed, arm outstretched over the covers, reaching out them, lashes spread against faded freckles. His chest rose and fell so peacefully, it made Damiel ache with envy. The lamp on the nightstand still shone, dimly, creating something of a halo around his head.
Bruise after bruise after bruise littered his skin and last night's events hit them like bricks.
They hesitated.
17 notes · View notes
firapolemos05 · 2 months
Text
Deceitful
@whumpuary AO3
Prompt 1
Captivity | Snow
Prompt 8
Muffled screams
CW: captivity, slave whump, left out in the cold, nonhuman whumpee, lady whumper, restraints, muzzles, slapping
The Champion taglist: @emmettverse , @ostensiblyfunctional , @scoundrelwithboba
It wasn't usual for the Cerulean Crescent to receive snowfall, but on occasion there'd be a winter where the temperatures drop low enough.
When you're located higher up in altitude - like Master Scarlet's manor, rested on the mountainside overlooking the valley below - the likelihood increases.
The Champion assumed the view would be appealing to those with a taste for luxury. At least when it wasn't obstructed by the darkness of night and the drowning haze of a snowstorm. He guessed many would find a more clear daytime view a pleasing sight, like a painting in a museum.
He himself never saw the appeal.
He never did like the cold.
Snow was cruelly deceitful. From afar the crystalline flakes looked harmless, coating the outside world in what many compare to a pristine, white fluffy blanket.
Another gust of bitter wind rattled his bones, and the Champion tried and failed again to pull his trembling limbs against his core in effort to keep warm. The thin silks draped over his body provided little protection.
Snow crystals were more akin to tiny knives if you asked him. Their gelid touch searing his toes where he stood. He spent several minutes earlier trying to clear away all the snow beneath his feet, but the shackles at his ankles didn't grant him much room.
He had messed up again.
Master had a guest over, some rich businessman dressed with the money he'd leached from his workers and customers. His jewelry by itself would probably pay for several bets for the Champion’s ring matches. The fabrics had so many ostentatious colors the tiefling had a hard time telling which garment was which.
Master had ordered him to serve the two. So he relayed refreshments back and forth from the servant tending the bar and the servant arriving from the kitchen. Of course, he wasn't permitted to touch any of the food or drinks, not even with his stomach gnawing in protest. The Champion’s only purpose there was to obey, be silent, and look pretty.
It certainly wasn't pretty when he tripped over the edge of the rug and sent two full glasses of red wine spilling onto the man's expensive outfit.
A desperate apology was halfway past his lips when a backhand struck him across the face. Rings painted red onto his cheek. Pain rang in his ears, dulling the sound of the man's furious yelling.
Master said not a word, but closed the distance between them before the Champion could recover. One hand waved and a spell lifted the stains from her guest's clothes. After calling for a servant to come assist the man, her other hand snatched her pet by his horns and began dragging him towards the balcony.
He knew by now that resisting would make things worse.
It hadn't been his first time on the outdoor space. When it was warm out, and when he was being well behaved, Master would allow him to accompany her outside. But tonight the cold was wet and unforgiving and the Champion was to be punished.
Master must've planned for this at some point. There were already metal chains bolted to the brick exterior wall waiting for him.
Their frigid bite snapped right to the bone.
How long has it been since she left him there? Hours? It definitely felt like it. The lashing winds seemed endless and the Champion stood unable to shield himself. The chains forced his limbs apart and all he could do was press his fingers into his palms, press his raised arms against his ears, and curl his tail around his waist. Granting meager solace to vulnerable extremities from the icy curtains raining down.
It didn't help much.
He wished he could scream. He'd already tried. Tried to call to his master and plead to be spared further torment from the elements. But it was no use with the muzzle. Master had strapped it to his face right before heading back to the heated comfort of the indoors. All his cries were muffled before they ever had a chance to echo off the mountainside.
He kept his eyes squeezed shut, afraid that the stinging gales would freeze any tears to his face. That's likely why he didn’t notice Master approach until she was snapping her fingers to get the tiefling’s attention.
He didn't understand how the frozen night wasn't bothering her.
The shackles released him, letting him fall into the snow when his feet were too numb to support his body. The wet sapped at fleeting body heat but he was too cold and too tired to do anything but shiver where he laid.
“Well?” Master’s voice rang clear above him, unfazed and apathetic. “Do you wish to return inside or not?”
Oh. So she was expecting him to drag himself back this time.
At least forcing himself to crawl across the balcony brought some feeling back into his hands.
The blissful embrace of the fireplace's warmth was only slightly dampened by Master making him apologize to the man for the spilled wine.
It was dampened far more when, instead of allowing him to curl up on the hearth, to chase away the chills trapped against his skin, she ordered him to the couch to lie in her lap.
The Champion hated how easily he submitted to it. Even more than the snow.
19 notes · View notes
Text
16. “Can I go home now?”
Young whumpee | Captive | Chains around the wrists
CW: minor whumpee, emotional whump, abuse threat, genocide mention (yes I know oops), failed escape attempt
This is debatably bad but oh well we must post don’t we - it’s a writing competition, we need to fill all prompts. Set during Kai’s first captivity, when he’s an undead
It wasn’t often that Kai tried to run. He wouldn’t know where to run to, first of all, and the compulsion was quick at snapping back the rubber band of control Kyriel had on him to bring him home.
Still, sometimes, Kai just bolted away.
“Tsk tsk tsk,” the angel tutted, chiding, lifting his pupil’s chin up with his finger. The boy crying, kneeling on the ground, wrists chained in front of him. “What was that, love?”
The child’s lip trembled, red doe eyes meeting his master’s face. The angel towering over his young, shaking figure.
“I am sorry, Magister,” he bubbled, sniffling. “I just wanted…”
Kyriel lifted an eyebrow, questioning. That was the third time Kai had tried to escape that year alone, unable to really tell him why. Seemingly on a whim, being apparently taken by nightmares, a powerful instinct - making him run out of the Tower at night.
Kyriel wondered if he should start chaining the boy to the bed, or if it would be a bit disproportionate and bad for his sweet pupil’s morale.
“Go on,” he spurred, trying to be gentle in his tone. Even if his hands tingled with the urge to slap the boy, make him sorry for having disobeyed him. Having to remind himself that it would achieve nothing if not making him more rebellious, more prone to lies and deceit. “I am not mad.”
“It’s just-“ Kai sniffled, hands twisting against the chains. Beautiful, white hair cut in a chin length bob, still in his nightclothes. “I, I-“ he swallowed, unsure. “I had a dream.”
Kyriel’s stomach twisted with unease, his smile instinctively widening a fraction.
“Oh yes?” His hold softened, the boy sobbing quietly in front of him. “What dream, sweet?”
Kai’s lips trembled again, fat tears falling down his face.
“There was- there was this house.” He swallowed. “A little place, next to the Forest. There was a woman, and a girl, some goats and chickens, and-“ he shook his head, white hair swinging slightly at the moment. “The fireplace was so warm. And I-I-“ he covered his face, as if ashamed. “I am so sorry, Magister. It just I felt so peaceful. It felt like-”
Kai stopped himself, quite wisely hesitating to continue. Kyriel not needing him to in order to understand what he meant.
It felt like home.
The clearing rumbled, low, like a thunder exploding far ahead. The ground shivering at the awakening of the angel’s power, Kyriel slowly unfurling himself to his full height. Lifting his head up, looking towards the direction of Kai’s nocturnal escapes.
North. The witches’ lands.
The boy had burned the great majority of it in his explosion, three years before. The witches’ population at less than survival level, scattered across all other lands in exile. The land cursed, nothing to grow from the ashes that Algebal’s explosion had left behind.
Except-
The angel shook his head. There wasn’t a chance that there was someone alive out there, luring his pupil away. No one powerful enough to threaten him, his hold and control over the boy. No one which could-
A slight tugging of his tunic. Small, familiar chained hands pulling down - Kai looking up from next at his feet, red doe eyes filled with tears.
“Magister,” he sniffled. “Can we go home now?”
Kyriel blinked, dazed.
Flashes of blood, of that pretty face screaming against the floor. Writhing, trying to get away from his rage-
Kyriel blinked again, coming back to himself. He sighed, lowering himself down at his prisoner’s level - his pupil, his weapon, that beautiful and terrible blade.
“Sure love, we can.” He leaned forwards, sweeping him in his arms. “Let me take care of you, baby.”
Kai and Kyriel masterlist | Whumptember 2023 masterlist
Taglist: @suspicious-whumping-egg @forthetaintedsorrow-whump @flowersarefreetherapy @enigmawritesstuff @sunshiline-writes
26 notes · View notes
whumpywankenobi · 1 year
Text
Whumpy-Wan Fic Recs
Whump fics need more love! So here's some of my favorite dubcon/noncon whump fics about mostly CW! or ROTS!Obi-Wan. This is only a few of them - there are so many good fics - but I'll save them for another list. I also welcome recommendations!
Read the individual tags on fics before reading. I've included archive warnings only. Most of these fall into the Dead Dove category, so step carefully.
Happy Reading!
--
Cessio by JSwander - Obi-Wan is sent to negotiate with Vader. (Dub-con) (E)
Blank Visors by Bittodeath - Obi-Wan is stuck in a wall. (Non-con) (E)
Light it Upon the Pyre of my Deceit by Anonymous- Anakin pushes too far. (Non-con) (E)
Only Fair by mockberry - Obi-Wan and Maul. (Non-con) (E)
same puppet; new strings by glimmerglanger - Cody gets possessed. (Attempted non-con, violence) (E)
A Treatise on Breaking and Repairs by glimmerglanger - Vader and Obi-Wan. (Non-con, violence, MCD) (E) (lots of plot)
A Relaxing Evening by whumpywankenobi- Yes, I am recommending my own fic. (Non-con) (E)
Broken by Anonymous - OWK!Obi-Wan is not who he once was. Stormtroopers take advantage. (Non-con, Underage) (E)
like moth's wings by The_Last_Kenobi- Kadavo goes terribly wrong. (Non-con) (M)
out of luck by demon_dean - Obi-Wan's drink is spiked. (future non-con) (M)
unified, alive - draculard - Padawan!Obi-Wan and pirates. (Non-con, Underage) (M)
56 notes · View notes
mercipourleslivres · 2 years
Text
Eunuch Romance Masterlist (links updated 8-22-2023)
All my conversations with @dangermousie about Schrodinger’s Eunuch (aka the upcoming Dylan Wang drama Forbidden Love and its source novel) have me wanting to share my top list of REAL EUNUCH romances because unlike some of y’all I like knowing my Eunuch is dead inside the box. Or the pants. Cough. ANYWAYS.  
( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Disclaimer: I don’t have a weird eunuch fetish. I just find that this super specific subgenre of xuanhuan hits a lot of my favorite romance tropes. 
I’ve discovered there are three main types of ML with this genre. First there’s the seemingly cold, sinister male lead that everyone fears–but who actually is a secret bundle of insecurity and self-hatred whose defense can only be vanquished by the love and persistence of the female lead. I looove the whump and the role reversal where the FL is the one pursuing, coaxing, and seducing while the ML takes on a submissive role in their private life. (Is this the gateway to me reading danmei novels?) (Dear reader, it wasn’t.)  (But I have since read many scholarly articles about Ming dynasty sex toys and castration practices so...yay?) Second, is the ML who is super soft, sweet, and shy. Then there’s the third type, the completely irredeemably evil & black-bellied yandere. Not as big a fan of that one since it seems to go hand-in-hand with dubcon, but gotta acknowledge that one is out there. 
Anyways, to those of you who made it this far but have had zero interest in reading about the love lives of the castrated, thanks for listening to my rant. 
For anyone else who wants their Eunuchs as they should be, lacking their manly bits, read on!
Tumblr media
Art credit: 《世间戏4》封面 by  槿木-_-
苏公公,公公苏!/ Eunuch Su! Eunuch Su!
Previously Song Hui Ming had been afraid of Su Jin even in her dreams, fearful that he would use his power to oppress and force her to have a relationship with him.
It was not until Su Gonggong died that she realized it was just a misunderstanding.
Born again, feeling ashamed, she decided to repay her debt of gratitude, but, what? Su Gonggong, aren’t you a gentleman? I take you as a benefactor, and you really like me?
Su Gonggong: I, I, I’m not! I don’t! Don’t talk nonsense!
FL is reborn and decides Eunuch Su needs some good old-fashioned cherishing and appreciation. Sweet slice-of-life. 5 stars
嫁給一個死太監  / I Married an Exasperating Eunuch
Chen Hui had traveled through the passage of time, but – when she woke up, there wasn’t even a single female servant surrounding her who exclaimed her return to consciousness.
Instead, the only person standing in front of her was an exasperating eunuch who pinned her with a malicious glare whilst remarking sarcastically:
“Since Lady Chen despises and shuns lowly eunuchs such as myself, I won’t force myself upon you. But, if you’re hoping for me to release and return you back to your family, then my only advice is for you to give up all such hopes! You will never be able to leave my household for the rest of your life, so you have little choice but to stay here till you die!”
Chen Hui: …
It turns out, that Chen Hui had time traveled, and awoken in the body of a lady who had attempted to commit suicide (by ramming her head against the pillar) to display her staunch refusal to marry an exasperating eunuch.
However, in order to fill her belly full and keep her body warm, Chen Hui had no choice but to continuously think of different ways and means to approach the exasperating eunuch, to get to know more about the exasperating eunuch, to please and bootlick the exasperating eunuch, and to seduce… No, wait, forget about seducing that exasperating eunuch.
The eunuch Li Youde had spent his entire life being a callous, deceitful, and sly person. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine during his most desperate hour all he could think about was how the mischievous, pampered, trouble-making enchantress at home would be able to continue living a worry-free and comfortable life without him by her side.
This was the third Eunuch romance I read and I’ve gone back and re-read it several times. It’s hilarious, and I loooove the female lead. She knows what she wants lmao. The ML, is not a likable character at all, but not in a fucked up cold dark killing machine way. He’s just a petty dude with an inferiority complex that does not jive with his overinflated ego and the amount of powder he cakes on his face. What’s sweet is watching him slowly become a better person by the end of the novel. (Or at least a whipped one.) 5 stars
恃宦而骄 / Arrogant in the Name of a Eunuch
Ming Shenzhou entered the palace as a pawn on the chessboard. When everyone was waiting to see her joke, a whip fell into her line of sight. "If you can't get in through the East Gate, then you can enter through the West Gate." 
Ming Shenzhou looked at the icy face and had a bold idea. She needs a mountain of support. Even if he is vicious and paranoid, even if he is notorious. Even if he is a eunuch. 
She took him as a shelter, a reliance, not a dog, not a cold-blooded and filthy beast. He held her like a bright moon, sending her all the way. 
“In a high position, no one can bully you." 
She is the pearl he will never let go of.
I read this one most recently and enjoyed it a lot. The author has also written some het novels, but none of them were as good as this one IMO. 5 stars
宦宠 / Eunuch's Pet
The world knows that the eunuch Pei Huiguang is treacherous and hostile, and when the emperor died, everyone said that he wouldn’t leave the little empress dowager alive.
In the ceremony of the sacrifice to heaven, he crouched at her feet in front of thousands of people and held up the hem of her palace dress for her.
He is a living evil devil, born to overthrow, but only willing to be her minister.
She is the moon, and he is mud beneath her feet. But even so, he will risk the world to get her.
Turn this deep palace into a sea of ​​joy for him and her, until death.
This is my all-time fAVoRiTE Eunuch romance. I was rabid, foaming at the mouth while reading this. It’s also VERY FUCKED UP. Like, the ML is a toxic wasteland and he does some really weird (kinky?) shit. So this is not for the faint-hearted. I mean at one point he drinks her bathwater, asks her to keep his thumb ring stored in her hoochie so he can lick it later, sticks his hand in a candle flame to warm it up for her because he’s jealous of the porcelain dildo THAT HE GIFTED HER IN THE FIRST PLACE, and eventually makes her a medicinal amulet out of his own bones and blood. SO. The dude is not the most stable of male leads! That said. 5 STARS
祸宦  / High-Official
The day the traitorous eunuch Yan Qing was executed, the empress went mad. He was named Yan Qi when he entered the palace at the age of twelve, and in his sixth year, he saw the embroidered skirts of the empress spread out before him, so dazzling that he couldn't look directly. The Empress was sitting in front of the dressing table, motionless, her profile as beautiful as a painting, and sad as a broken poem. Since then, the whole meaning of his life has become her. She needed warmth, so he can burn himself.
The empress and the eunuch, the love is deep and the life is not long. 
Well I went into this one knowing it was going to be a tragedy, but what a beautiful one. Two broken people falling in love inside the cage of the palace. The prose was gorgeous, even using google translate. 5 stars
掌印太监的小尼姑 / The Little Nun Who Held the Eunuch’s Seal
Who is Chen Yixing? He is the eunuch holding the great seal, under one person but above ten thousand. He turns black to white, hides a knife in his smile, and while he speaks softly with you one moment, he can kill you the next...
As an ordinary little nun, Fanyi's wish is very simple: To chant sutras and spend this life in peace. But now her nunnery is involved in a case of treasury theft, and in order to save her fellow sisters she had to agree to Chen Yixing's condition - stay by his side to assist in the investigation until the case is over...
The fate of this little nun must not be too good-looking.
But a year later, the case was solved, and everyone was beaten in the face. One is that the gloomy Eunuch actually lets the little nun go back to the nunnery according to the original agreement. The other is that the little nun wished to leave again, returning to a life in the secular world even if it meant undergoing the three torturous punishments.
Seeing Fan Yi coming back covered in blood, Chen Yixing was so angry that his temples hurt, but the little nun just smiled at him with a pale face and said, "I am willing." Chen Yixing turned away, but the little nun behind him was unrelenting: "Chen Yixing, I love you, and I’m not ashamed." His figure froze, and his eyes turned red... 
A lot of noble idiocy and masochism in this one. At one point the FL willingly walks a gauntlet of hot coals (among other tortures) in order to leave her nunnery and return to the vulgar (and marry the eunuch ML.) Then the ML forcibly leaves her behind to try and get her to live a normal life with the 2nd ML which goes about as well as you would expect. Then there’s an uncomfortable scene where she vents her fear and frustrations at his noble idiocy by some borderline non-con means, so trigger warning for that. 4.5 stars 
诱宦  / Enticing the Eunuch
Lu Zhan was sent to Suzhou Prefecture to oversee the weaving industry. Everyone flatters him to his face, then turns their backs to scold him.
He has been in hell for too long and gradually forgot that he was once a man with high aspirations and a high degree of integrity. Now as a Eunuch, only power brings him dignity. Until he met Yuan Zhiqiu, the flower girl of Suzhou. She is charming, doesn’t fear him, and uses her own hands to wipe off the blood.
Lu Zhan's hand was hot, his eyes were cold, and something dark sprouted at the bottom of his heart. Lu Zhan gradually lost himself in her methods, but looking down at his empty brocade pants, he pushed her away.
"Don’t you know that I’m a Eunuch?"
She laughed with care. "Lu Zhan, a man's dignity doesn't grow there, it grows in his heart."
From then on, she became Lu Zhan's dignity.
So this one was a REALLY rough MTL, but I persevered because the OTP was so beautiful. She’s a fallen woman, he’s a despised Eunuch. Her tender pursuit of him, body and soul, is really lovely to watch. I was also telling @dangermousie​ that this is the novel where the Eunuch uses some weird poison Viagra and a blindfold during the sex scenes because he’s so hung up on the FL having a nice time/not noticing what he’s lacking. For the longest time, she thinks he actually has a dick. (He does not.) 4.5 stars
这个太监我要了 / I’ll Take This Eunuch
Jiang Banxia fished out a dying beauty from the river under the cliff, taking him back home without a word only to find that the “beauty” is a eunuch!
As the youngest and most ruthless Eunuch in the history of the Great Jin Dynasty, Lu Xuan had never seen a woman like Jiang Banxia in his 26 years of life! At first, Lu Xuan only wanted to kill this woman who had seen his true face, but later this woman pulled him back from the gates of hell again and again...
FL is a transmigrator living with her cute dog named Rhubarb in a little shack by the river. She saves the ML, vicious Eunuch on the run from a billion assassins, and blackmails him into taking her back home. At one point they pretend to be siblings, and then because PLOT we find out they might actually be siblings! Ahhhh fakecest! (What makes it angstier is they totally banged before finding out.) Anyways don’t worry they aren’t really related and they get a HEA. 4.5 stars
穿成太监的冲喜新娘 / Dressed as a Eunuch’s Bride
Jiang Fei has become the cannon fodder female supporting role in the book. The original owner was the daughter of the Hou mansion, but she lived abroad for more than ten years and could not enter the eyes of nobles in the capital. Everyone ridiculed that this person was not as good as Jiang Yunlan, the adopted daughter of Hou Ye. Jiang Feiwei wasn't as inconceivable as the original owner. She can fight the sky and the ground, and she can be a salted fish, holding a script in her hand, passing the test, and making a name for herself in the capital... Then she became the counterpart of the eunuch.
Everyone: Will she throw herself into the river with grief and anger?
Jiang Feiwei: Marrying Gu Yan? Anyway, the big villain has his own white moonlight, wouldn't it be nice to eat and wait to die?
Gu Yan's warm face flashed a haze: "Is this the reason why Madam agreed to marry me?"
"Living King of Hell" Gu Yan was given marriage by the emperor. While everyone laughed at the eunuch's marriage, they also bet that the lady would not live long. Until one day, someone saw that the ruthless and unscrupulous Eunuch carrying his little girl on his back, walking down the long palace road with a smile.
The ill-fated noble lady of the Hou mansion and the eunuch with a far-reaching reputation have actually become a good story sung in the picture book.
The FL is a salted fish, the ML fronts as a big baddie but actually has a huge inferiority complex. I will say that the ending was a bit rushed in that it felt like a big chunk of the story got cut out. (At one point the OTP is separated but we don’t get to see how the FL makes it back to the ML, but it’s implied a lot of fucked up stuff happened in between.) Anyways one of the best reunion scenes. They’re both sick and injured and clinging to each other and the ML is like “I heard you calling me, so I didn’t drink the Mengpo soup and made my way back running all the way.”  A++ doting. 4.5 stars
宦来娇 / Huan Lai Jiao
After her half-sister snatched away her marriage, Le You’s father sent her to the court eunuch Ning Yuandao to be despised and ridiculed by the world. Ning Yuandao gave her treasures and affection, seemingly doting, but in reality he plans to use her as a pawn. But then the situation changed and the former high official found himself in prison, only to watch his wife smile and drink the poisoned wine and exchange his life for hers. After seeing the warm sun, who can endure the long and lonely winter’s night? In the end, it's a story of a kind and lovely white rabbit sympathizing with a strange wolf and being taken back to his nest!
The MTL of this one was a bit rough to read, but I enjoyed it. Transmigrator wakes up and finds that she’s marrying a eunuch, and decides to treat him with sincerity and live a good life. There’s some great doting and some really lovely angsty bits. 4.5 stars
Tumblr media
棺材铺里的小太监  / The Little Eunuch in the Coffin Shop
So this is a village/economics slice-of-life with a dash of Eunuch romance. FL is the servant/poor relative of an awful family who tries to force her to marry their idiot son and runs away after her future FIL tries to rape her. She opens up a coffin shop in a little village and meets her old childhood sweetheart and falls in love, not knowing that he’s now a high-ranking Eunuch in the imperial court on a personal quest for revenge. 4 stars
跟病娇太监比命长 / Live Longer than the Sickly Eunuch
Ning Wanxin used to be the pearl in the palm of Marquis Mansion. However, in a coup d'etat, the Ning family was destroyed. In the past, the charming girl who was amazing in the imperial capital became crazy overnight and was given to the ruthless and sinister eunuch chief as a plaything.
Wei Lan's brows were gloomy. The first time he saw her, he asked the question: Can I send Ning Wanxin to her death today? 
The entire palace was in a state of pity, thinking the flower was helpless and would die in a few days. But Ning Wanxin not only lived, but she also lived day after day. 
Until the entire court knew that the Chief Eunuch had someone at the tip of his heart.
This is a shorter one (64 chapters) and has a lot of political intrigues as well (blah blah forest army, blah blah tiger seal) but what sticks out most to me is at one point towards the end, the FL literally tortures the delusional 2nd ML in prison with whips and brands in order to make him hand over the antidote to the poison that was killing the ML. Like, damn girl. And later the Eunuch goes to the prison and is all “ha you don’t even know what her favorite food is and you think you’re worthy of her love.” Lol. 4 stars
权宦为我点朱砂 / The Powerful Eunuch Paints My Face with Cinnabar
Mu Qing is the admiral of Dongchang, a treacherous eunuch with blood on his hands and a vicious heart, and also the sweetheart of princess Fu Huan. If there is anyone in the world who can make him kneel willingly, it can only be her. From the humblest eunuch to the position above tens of millions, he was willing to bow his head and kiss the corner of her skirt. Like silt, always longing for flowers. He tapped Fuhuan's forehead with his fingertips, and the blood on his finger was so thick that it was printed on her forehead, even more colorful than the cinnabar on the little princess' eyebrows when they first met. Mu Qing kissed that spot of blood, his lips sickly and flirtatious. He murmured and said stubbornly: "Your Highness, you belong to Mu Qing."
This one was interesting! As the author put it: “The male lead has evil intentions, evil hands, and is not a good person.” Lol no shit. This eunuch is perverse in that he is obsessively in love with the FL to the point where he happily commits regicide left and right just to keep a smile on her face. You have to read closely to pick up all the clues as the author isn’t super explicit. Is this relationship unhealthy? Yes lol. But despite being evil and slightly gross in his isolating possessiveness, he does treat the FL like the princess she is. The ending was pretty open-ended though, which while not feeling abrupt, did seem to leave a lot hanging. (Like, will the princess ever find out all the nasty shit her eunuch lover did to the people around her? Does it matter?) 4 stars
宦妃 / Eunuch and Concubine
The saddest thing isn’t being poisoned and time-traveling, but falling in love with a ruthless man who has no penis after time-traveling, all while being his master’s concubine. What to do now?? AKA “How to Fall in Love if you Don’t have a Dick.” The heroine is calm, and the hero is ruthless. 
So the plot summary makes this sound like a comedy, but its actually a harem-fight novel + thoughtful romance. Our FL transmigrates and ends up entering the palace as a concubine with zero interest in the emperor (”who wants a cucumber that’s been licked by so many people??”) and instead sets her eyes on the handsome head eunuch who happens to be quite the lothario. They go from using each other, to genuinely falling in love, and then having to sneak around behind the emperor’s back while dodging mines concubines set on sinking their battleship relationship. Nice angsty bits, sweet love confessions (the FL tattoos her name on the ML’s chest) hot make outs, and a rare “pro-choice” view on childbirth. 4 stars
嫁宦 / Marry a Eunuch
In charge of the East Factory for five years, Yin Cheng has always been a villain who has been dubbed cold-blooded and vicious by the world. Until one day, a woman appeared, and his iceberg-like heart gradually melted, and he was stuck in the mud from then on, unable to extricate himself. He loves deeply, but loves hesitantly; he desires to be loved, but fears that it is not true love. It wasn't until the woman satisfied his self-esteem by saying sweetly that he would marry him that he took out the marriage decree and stuffed it into her hands. "Okay, I'll marry you." When the woman saw the decree, she knew she had been fooled. 
This one had a fresh and interesting setting. The smart FL is a blind storyteller making her living at a teahouse with her adoptive family. I will say it felt a little too long in that it took forever for the couple to get together. There were some also unexpectedly violent/gory scenes towards the end with a bunch of side characters dropping like flies. 3.75 stars
权宦的美娇娘 / The Beauty of a Powerful Eunuch
Zhao Shiyi encounters a group of robbers on her way to Qingzhou, but she is fortunate enough to be saved by the eunuch Wang Zhichan. 
Wang Zhichan brings a bride price of ten thousand dollars to the Zhao family's doorstep and smiles at her askance: "You will never escape our family's palm!”
 When he first met Zhao Shiyi, he only saw her as unruly and was determined to tame her into a good little white rabbit. The main thing is that he is still willing and happy to do it.
From what I recall there was not much plot, but there was good snu-snu so I gave it 3.75 stars
女富商的小太监 / The Little Eunuch of a Wealthy Businesswoman
The regulations of the Great Zhou Dynasty stipulated that all servants in the palace who were seriously ill should be expelled. The rough eunuch, Xiao Hezi, couldn't afford to be sick. He used the money he had saved to hire a doctor, but when the doctor said he was dying he was thrown out anyway. 
It was cold and windy, and Xiao Hezi had no money, no place to live, and no food to eat. Before he lost consciousness, only hatred remained in his heart. When he woke, he met a pair of gentle eyes asking with a smile, "What's your name?" 
Xiao Hezi lied, concealed his identity, and choked, "Slave's name is He Liu." 
“That’s too plain. Why don’t we call you He Muqing?”
After suffering from humiliation in the scum and ugliness in the palace, all He Muqing could feel was hatred, but now there was a person who made those memories turn into dust in an instant. The soil nourishes the buds. 
"People in the world are created equal." Gu Heyi's words touched He Muqing thoroughly. Having concealed his identity, he thought, can you accept a lowly person like me?” The fear of discovery terrified him day and night.
This one is rather sweet. The curmudgeonly eunuch ends up dying on the street and is brought home by a rich businesswoman. She takes him in and gives him work in her store, and they fall in love all while he conceals the secret that he’s actually a eunuch. Nice slice-of-life economics along with the angsty love if you like that sort of thing. I really loved how the FL just didn’t care about any of the class BS of the time and just wanted to love him. 3.75 stars
一心只想嫁太监 / I Only Want to Marry a Eunuch
Qiu Zhenmeng had a fiancé when she was young. After their hometown flooded, her fiancé was forced to make a living and entered the palace to earn money.
Now after so many years, she travels to the capital to find him and remind him of their betrothal, only to discover that her one-time sweetheart is now a powerful Eunuch.
Qiu Zhenmeng waited for a long time before explaining her intentions, but Wang Congyue just smiled and said softly: "What good is it to linger on a marriage contract from when we were young? I’ll choose another good person to marry you." 
Qiu Zhenmeng grabbed his hand anxiously and asked, "Have you changed your mind?" 
Wang Congyue was blushing, but his expression was light: "I'm already a eunuch. If you follow me, you can't have children, and you’ll be mocked by the world, what's the benefit?" 
There were tears in Zhenmeng's eyes: "I don't want benefits, I just want my fiancé. Since you haven't changed your mind, I'm here, and I won't leave." 
After a long time, Wang Congyue said: "If you don’t leave today, forget trying in the future. I will never let you go.” 
After all, he too wanted to live like an ordinary person.
ML was tricked into becoming a Eunuch after he tried finding work, and is too embarrassed to contact his fiancé back home. Our FL travels to the capital in search of him, and when she finds out he’s a eunuch she’s more concerned about him reneging on the engagement than about the fact that he has no junk. A sweet little story. 3.75 stars
一梦归 / A Dream Returns
In the last life, Xiao Shen, the supervisor of the East Factory, met a tragic end, and the new emperor ordered his execution by a thousand cuts at the beginning of his term. Even though he was in a high position, he was still a prisoner of his own broken body, a disposable outcast of the imperial power, and the happiness of ordinary people had nothing to do with him. After his rebirth, he only wanted to keep himself from ending up in the same situation, but did not dare to think about love. But he didn’t expect that his wife Song Qiu Di, who was cold to him in his previous life, had changed her nature in this life and was loving and caring to him, taking the initiative to flirt with him from time to time, making him want to stop. After several attempts, the two finally put aside their knots, escaped from the cage and joined hands for a hundred years. 
I had ignored this one on my TBR list because it was so short (37 chapters) but the chapters are a decent length and there are some really well done (and fairly explicit for a cnovel) sex scenes that had me fanning myself like whoa. There’s also a great note from the author towards the end of the book talking about the research they’d done on eunuchs and explaining some of the burning questions I had for google months ago lol. I just wish there was more OTP fluff and less political stuff but ah well, it was still pretty good. 3.75 stars
娇太后的宦官情郎 / The Empress Dowager’s Eunuch Lover
Chu Weiyang used to be the most charming and spoiled lady in the capital, and her tears were like golden beans. But when the eldest sister died in childbirth and she was forcibly escorted to the palace by the imperial army to wear the phoenix crown, she didn’t shed a tear. Then the old emperor died, and she withdrew into the palace with her young nephew with dry eyes.
Everyone said that the once spoiled young lady had grown up, but when she heard rumors that the new emperor had given a palace maid to the East Factory Admiral Wei Ming, she rushed to his room that night, crying and threatening him with a slap: "If you dare to bring people in, I will drown your mansion in tears!" 
Wei Ming's heart grew warm, and he hugged the squeamish little girl coaxing softly and lingeringly: "I will listen to you, I will listen to you." 
It was he who lifted the red veil on the night of her wedding to the emperor and accompanied her to sleep, but he felt that he was not worthy of her, so he could only love carefully, guarding her every time she wanted to cry but couldn't. 
Wei Ming promised her a lot, but he could never promise his heart. His love was too forbearing and restrained, but he didn't know that the other party had already entered his heart step by step and refused to leave. 
Another dowager empress x eunuch romance. The FL cries a lot and is slightly annoying. See Eunuch’s Pet above for a better version of this plot. 3.5 stars 
惨遭权宦强娶后 / After Being Forcibly Married to a Powerful Eunuch
The throne was changed, the prince and his family were imprisoned, and the once famous girl has fallen into the brothel.
Coincidentally, Xie Wu, the governor of the West Factory, was rich and powerful, with a thousand taels of gold in his pocket. Everyone in the capital sighed saying such powerful eunuchs are cold and vicious, and will definitely destroy such a flower in his hand.
Xie Wu's pale finger trailed along Wen Shumei's jaw: "Do you know who I am?"
Wen Shumei's heart was already burnt to ash before she entered the Xie Mansion. In the four years she spent at the brothel, several dignitaries in Chang'an City who had asked for her card died of violent illness. One who tried to rape her even died of ulceration three days later, and it was said that when he was buried that pus seeped out of his coffin. With a life like this, it would be better to go with this powerful and treacherous eunuch!
Later, when the treacherous eunuch heard about it, he looked at her speechlessly for a long time: "Little lady, you’re being too gracious." 3.5 stars
重生爱上九千岁  / Reborn to Love Lord Qiansui
If there was any identical and pure coincidence.
He is Lord Jiu Qiansui who everyone loathed. He is vicious, merciless, cruel, and savage. Receiving flattery and taking unfair advantage, causing calamity and chaos. The emperor doted on him and trusted him, the consorts tried to gain his favor, the crown prince vowed to get rid of him and the officials wished that they could devour his bones and eat his flesh.
The crafty wanted to get into his favor.
The honorable wanted to kill him.
The commoners looked down upon him.
He is the rebel and traitor that everyone wanted dead.
And then he got a love he wouldn’t even dare to think about. That cold fragrance had always stood by his side and vaguely always surrounded him. She was like an antidote that seemed to carry poison, making him crazy.
If you don’t abandon me, then I will give up everything for you to have a life of no worries!
When Zhao Zimu pulled Ling Qing’s first white hair, his lips were in a thin line, and asked displeased, “Do you abhor me now?”
Zhao Zimu touched his forehead with her lips and laughed, “How would I dislike you? You are the one I want to grow old with. Now, you are just one step ahead of me.”
Even through the rain of blood and forest of daggers, I will stay by your side in this life, looking at how the flowers bloom and wither and how winter becomes spring.
So this is the OG Eunuch novel I read and while at the time I found it amazing and subversive, on a writing/plot level it’s probably just a 2.5-star read if I’m generous. The drama adaptation Oh My Lord looked AWFUL and they made him a fake Eunuch in it so I never watched it. But if I hadn’t read this drama I wouldn’t have read all the others so, rounding it up to 3.5 stars
Tumblr media
嫁给奸宦冲喜后 / After Marrying a Treacherous Eunuch
When Lu Shao was fifteen the empress dowager sent her to marry Jin Zhuoyuan, the bloodthirsty minister of ceremonies.  Lu Shao is cautious and careful, not daring to make mistakes. She originally thought that when the factory governor woke up, he would either send her away or chop her up and feed her to the dogs. But who would have thought that the factory supervisor did not kill her, nor did he expel her. In fact, her life is quite nourishing. Lu Shao ate candied skewers, thinking that the people outside were wrong. The factory governor is so good-looking, how can he be a murderous devil? The people all thought that Lu Shao would die soon after marrying Jin Xhuoyuan, but one day, Lu Shao fell ill on her couch, and the ruthless factory governor's hand holding the medicine bowl was shaking. "Shao Shao, take a sip, and I’ll buy you sweet honey syrup to eat." Only then did everyone realize that the factory governor's hand is not only bloodthirsty with a knife, but can also hold a small face, serve tea, and wipe tears. 
This one was...alright. Yandere ML and lots of sex scenes. TW for non-con elements and some kinky stuff with bunny tail butt plugs. 3 stars
裙下权宦 / Powerful Eunuch Under the Skirt
At first, Changle was just a eunuch that everyone could bully, although he was well-behaved, his pale face was full of coldness. Seeing that he was pitiful, , the empress dowager Seeing that he was pitiful, Song Ying asked him to be her personal eunuch. When she ascended the throne as empress dowager, Changle, as the most beloved eunuch beside the empress, began to take over and arrange all the affairs of the harem. He personally chose a beautiful young son from a large family and sent him to the Empress' palace, but when palace was brightly lit, he would carry a pot of wine and sit in the cold wind and drink alone. But one day he was so drunk that he stumbled into a warm embrace and looked up to see the face that had been in his dreams night after night. Song Ying gently wiped away the tears at the corners of his eyes with his hand and spoke in a gentle tone, "Changle, come back to the palace with me." The eunuch Changle feels that he has no desire in this life, but whenever he glances at His Highness in the big red phoenix robe, his heart always pounds. 
So this one sounded great from the summary but from what little I remember, the ending wasn’t super happy. I rated it and promptly forgot the contents as it left zero impression. 3 stars
我的驸马是太监 / My Consort is a Eunuch
After being reborn, the Princess lived as she wished, and did all the things that women wanted to do but couldn't. She did them all fearlessly and boldly... and in the process, she abducted an astonishing husband.
So this one had potential, but it never got into the previous life stuff or explain why the Eunuch ML was crushing on the Princess in that timeline. Instead we got a slow burn type romance which was great, but there really wasn't much plot to go with it. And the villain of the previous life barely shows up or does anything. He's dealt with offscreen. Then the plot or what was left of it literally and figuratively goes over a cliff with the ML (though that was a nice angsty scene!) and everything after that was just annoying and poorly written IMO. Everything up to and including the cliff scene I'd give 4 stars, but because the ending didn't feel like an ending and they introduced a lot of weird stuff like magic Gu spiders and shit, I'm bumping it down. In its favor, there were a lot of hot make outs. 3 stars
公主养宦手册 / The Princess’ Handbook for Raising Eunuchs
This was a rough MTL where it felt like a lot of the story was missing? Cold and calculating princess + nondescript Eunuch who eventually becomes a rebel leader. Heavy on the politics, not so much on the romance. Meh. 3 stars
穿书后和偏执太监HE了 / After Entering the Book, She had a HE with the Paranoid Eunuch 
Once Li Jianran entered the book, she became the brainless and domineering brainless cannon fodder and decided to listen to the system's advice and turn to the embrace of the villain. However, when the the mantle was lifted the man in front of her was white and beardless, his eyes were sharp, feminine and ruthless. Her expression gradually froze. Mo Yanjin looked at the unkempt woman in front of him and gritted his teeth: "Miss Li, why do you want to humiliate this family?" Li Jianran was in shock. “Wait! What is going on? How is this a eunuch? Where is the villain?” System: “The villain is this eunuch!” Once Mo Yanjin gained power, he vowed to take revenge on all the people who had humiliated him, and the first on the list was the domineering Miss Li. But for some reason, I don't know when, she gradually became a bright color on his heart, lingering.
Eunuch villain + FL transmigrator. There is no plot. Scenes with the OTP are cute though. 3 stars
找个太监嫁了吧 / Find a Eunuch to Marry
Eunuch Fang, the eunuch of the Punishment Department, is notoriously vicious, fierce and difficult to deal with. Everyone knows that this father-in-law is not a vegetarian. Until one day—"Gongong, look how juicy this little cabbage is, sweet and crunchy, come and open your mouth~" "Gongong, look how smooth this little bitter gourd is, it clears away heat and fire, come and open your mouth~" ” ——The next day, Eunuch Zhang burst into a blush and the little girl started digging the soil to plant vegetables, humming a little tune: “Little cabbage, the Gongong is shy again~” 2.5 stars
一梦归(太监X女官) / This Eunuch isn't Too Cold
3rd life is the charm. Weird Gu worms and the female lead has the appetite of No Face and rips a bears throat out with her teeth. 2 stars
64 notes · View notes
whumperer-86 · 9 months
Text
Delightfully Deceitful ep14 (Bleeding Whump) the shot scene below the video
46 notes · View notes
bluejayblueskies · 11 months
Note
ohhoooooo 96 + 9 for the 100 Drabble prompt?
drabble collection, whump edition
96 and 9 - Forced to Watch, Temperature
i've combined them - i hope that's okay!
cw: blood and injury, incl. self-inflicted
.
Of course the King didn’t keep his word. What did John fucking expect? A god of lies, of deceit, of fucking with you until your brain melted out through your own ears.
Of course he kicked Arthur, mangled and broken and covered in his own blood, through a portal and squarely into a snowy fucking wasteland.
The King closes the earthly side of the portal, like sliding one-way glass across the opening, and then watches with calm detachment as Arthur gasps at the cold. It doesn’t matter how much John yells—how much he pounds metaphorical fists against the metaphorical walls of his very real prison. The King seems content to lock John away inside him until—what, John grows docile? Fuck that. John is going to fight this until the heat death of the universe.
“You said you would heal him,” John spits as Arthur struggles to drag himself across the snow. His right leg is bent at all the wrong angles, and he leaves a sickening streak of violent crimson behind him as he slowly and painstakingly makes his way towards a—great, an abandoned cabin. Is that the King’s version of kindness? “You fucking liar.”
The King says nothing.
John should look away from the portal. He knows it’s there for his benefit—so he can watch the only person he’s ever cared about suffer, knowing with every aching fiber of his being that he’s suffering alone. He shouldn’t give the King the satisfaction of watching Arthur’s misery.
He doesn’t, though. He watches, and he spits insults at the person he once was, and he hopes—even though he knows it’s dangerous to do so—that Arthur will be all right.
17 notes · View notes
dandelion-wings · 9 months
Text
Plunking away at the whump fic this morning, originally because I did genuinely want to write some of the gory bits, but then I got caught up in how I want to do flashbacks and I'm still not entirely certain how I'm going to handle them yet, but I made a test case of one of my favorites and as chunky as it is I do find myself self-indulgently fond of this format:
---
"I have only one other question for you," Antony says, cupping his teacup a little closer to his chest. It's a strangely protective gesture in so large and terrifying a creature, his hands completely dwarfing the cup. "Do you truly trust your Alberich enough to carry this scheme out? An Alberich founded this Order, you know."
"I didn't know."
"Yes. Out of desire to see his son made human again, as all of us desire. And yet... it was he who made our current leader his heir, and that heir who has caused so much suffering to those we swore to protect."
"Chlothar caused no small amount of suffering himself," Marian adds in a low mutter. The look Antony gives her is unreadable to Jean behind a Herald's helm, but Marian stares back defiantly a moment before both of them subside and turn their gazes back to her.
Jean hadn't known, and yet somehow it comes as no surprise. Kaeya had told her that the defectors had no reason to trust him, after all. She'd thought it was because of his mission as a spy and betrayal of same, and she has no doubt that he'd intended her to think as much, but the wry little smile when he'd said that there was old history....
He'd deceived her about that, in a sense, making her think it was something bound about with his father and too painful to directly touch. It's not the first time he's misled her in such a way. Kaeya has always laced a veil of deceit around himself, never showing his full hand even to her. And yet Jean can't mistrust him for it. The question doesn't even arise. He's bared enough.
(In the depths of their fight against Eroch's cronies, gone to ground after his dismissal and all the more difficult to root out, Jean had tired of Kaeya's hints and asked him to make her a list of those he suspected that she had missed. Unofficial, by necessity; if there was solid proof of any misdeeds, she would have already found it on her desk. But there were angles of investigation she could take that he could not, if only she could work out the bounds of the whole systemic mess instead of nibbling at its edges.
There had been twenty-two names on that list. A daunting number, even divided into the sections that Kaeya had so helpfully laid out.
"I suspect these of having some association with our dearly departed Inspector," he'd said, gesturing to the first and largest group of names. "Some by their connections to those we know about, and some by the rumors I've heard about their conduct. Not all of those associated with him were in the know, naturally, and others may have learned by unfortunate example, so you may be able to salvage some of them. But it's better to check, isn't it?"
"It is. And should those who've been tempted into misconduct prove innocent, they still must be retrained."
"That would be for the best. As for these below, I can't guarantee I'm right about them, either. But I'm quite certain Sir Alwin reports to the Lawrences, and these others are also spending well above their regular pay or family means. Sir Roswitha-"
"She's a spy for the Liyue Qixing," Jean interrupted him. "We're better off leaving her in place."
"Haha, that explains a few things. A little diplomatic exchange, hmmm?"
"I can't say."
"Of course not. Now, as to the last name on that list. That knight has a past with the Abyss Order, which shouldn't be too difficult to prove. I can give you references. But if you still want assistance with the rest of these, you'll want to deal with that matter last."
Jean hadn't been surprised then, either, when she glanced down to that last name. Not when Kaeya had drawn himself so straight before her, shoulders tight, hands low and spread as if to demonstrate they were empty. His smile was small, wry, already despairing, and there was a resignation in his eye that hurt to look at. There was a hitch in his voice on 'references' despite his attempt to maintain a casual tone.
It explained so much. That morning he'd come to her door with burns he begged her to help hide from the Ordo and a Vision he was twisting himself in circles trying to explain--she knew down to the core that he must have worn that same smile when he faced down Diluc. No wonder he'd so desperately insisted that it was justified, and that no one else could know.
And now he was offering her a bargain. He knew full well she wouldn't use him for this investigation, then put him in chains when it was done. Accept his help and accept his past--and accept his word that it *was* past, that it no longer mattered now--or arrest him now and eject him as a traitor with all the rest. It was her decision. She was the one responsible for excising the Ordo's rot.
She looked him in the eye as she reached for her quill. One hand on the list he'd given her, a list that he'd vanished for three days to provide and, from the shadow under his eye, had barely slept in making, she dipped it in her inkwell. Then she drew a thick, dark line across the bottommost name.
"I won't concern myself with the history of knights whose loyalty I trust," she'd told him, and watched all the tension run out of him at once. The flash of disbelief on his face made her chest twinge.
But then he'd straightened, breathing deep, his eye intent on her. "Where would you like to start?" he asked, tense anew the anticipation of action, like a hound who'd caught the scent straining to be unleashed. Jean had felt the weight of that command and sat straighter herself under it.)
All about her the monsters seem to loom closer, their attention fixed on her as they await her response. Despite the days she's spent forcing herself to relax in their presence, there's still a jangling in the back of her mind as battle-honed instincts scream *'threat.'* But she smiles genuinely at Antony nonetheless.
"Whatever his family's history, it has no bearing on Kaeya's present loyalties. I trust him with my life." She pauses, wondering whether this would be an insult--but surely they'll understand. "I mean no offense, but I am here among you, unarmed, on his word. I think that is proof enough."
"That's true," Marian murmurs, and Antony gives her another, swifter look and then nods himself. All around them, Lectors and Heralds and that great venerable Lawachurl relax. Something in Jean relaxes, too, as the fierceness of their attention fades.
13 notes · View notes
kitsune024 · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
Crossovers
MCU
blackugou widow by @wonhaebunny I Chapters: 11/? I BAMF Bakugou Katsuki, Reincarnation, Natasha reincarnates into Bakugou
Rurouni Kenshin
Echoes of Your Silence by LLewtwo, Popjeckdoom I Chapters 27/40 I Immortal Himura Kenshin
-
A Study In Deceit by @mentallyunawareofpapaya | Chapters: 15/? | Sherlock AU, Bakugou has the intelligence of Sherlock, Bakugou Katsuki & Todoroki Shouto Friendship, Bamf Bakugou, Psychological Horror Slope by sunfleurmoon | Chapters: 35/40 | Bakugou Katsuki Redemption, Bakugou gets expelled, Bakugou Whump, Torture, Bakugou adopts Eri, Quirkless Bakugou, Bamf Bakugou Your Sun in the Night Sky by @jothebakuho I Chapters: 10/11 I Bakugou Katsuki/Todoroki Shouto, This time Bakugou saves a kid instead of Midoriya- He gets too into it, Kid Fic Ground Zero by Windschild8178 I Chapters: 18/30 I Bamf Bakugou, Bakugou/Deku sibling shaninigans, Torture, Psychological Torture. Mental Anguish, Chronic Illness Standing at Ground Zero by @ladygreenfrisbee Chapters: 16/45 | Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku but not main focus, training camp arc, Vigilante Bakugo Katsuki, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Bakugou doesn't get rescued, Canon Divergence The Ticking Time Bomb by @ladygreenfrisbee | Chapters: 15/25 | bakugo angst, Violence, All for One is a scheming monster, Dabbling in Quirks I Provide Protection by hitomi_mimii (PuffedGill) I Chapters 87/100 I Bakugou/FemOc, Cute fic, slow burn
Completed
Flip Off by @bern-the-bridge I Chapters 1/1 I one shot 5+1 Things, ooc Bakugou, Personality switch, Quirk Shenanigans Our Hero by @anonymoustwit I Chapters 8/8 I Earthquakes, Whump, Hurt!Bakugou, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Implied/Referenced Bullying, Bakugou Katsuki & Midoriya Izuku Friendship, Soft Bakugou Katsuki A Little Demonstration by @anonymoustwit I Chapters 3/3 I BAMF Bakugou Katsuki, Bullies, Protective Bakugou Katsuki, In This House We Appreciate Bakugou Katsuki, Bakugou Katsuki Is A One Man Protection Squad End of the Line by LinatheLoud I Chapters 10/10 I Bakugou Katsuki & Class 1-A, Bakugou becomes Class 1-A's medic, Class 1-A as Family, Graphic Descriptions of Injuries, Hero Public Safety Commission Bashing, Blood and Injury, Injury Recovery, you won't like All Might here
Bookmark Series
All That Is Left by @ladygreenfrisbee | Part 1 - 2 | Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku, All for One, Possession, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Canon Divergence
Tumblr media
3 notes · View notes
Text
Requested Ship: Zhuzhi-lang/Nie Huaisang (I have no idea what the ship tag for this is), specifically a sequel to this shortfic. Requester: solacegrief on Twitter The Whump Wheel chose... Poisoning! (I shit you not)
(warning for description of injury)
------------
The snake yao was bigger than any of the forms he could actually use in this world, but also more slow moving and much dumber.
Once Zhuzhi-lang had finished biting it full of holes and then tearing it to fine shreds, he abandoned the corpse and rushed back over to the human curled up on the ground. Nie Huaisang's breathing had started to turn into shallow, desperate gulps for air and sweat was pouring from his skin even as he shivered. The area around his neck and shoulder had turned a disgusting purple-green-black color with spreading threads of black where the venom had leeched under his skin, and the rest of him was a worrying tint of pale grey. Seeing his condition, Zhuzhi-lang momentarily wished he'd made the yao suffer longer. But no, that would have cut the time they had to fix the problem even shorter. As it was... The only guaranteed way to stop the venom before it could kill Nie Huaisang would be introducing his own blood.
But that would also mean revealing that he was a demon. Just because Nie Huaisang had been kind enough to give shelter and care to an intrusive animal, that didn't mean he would be fine with being bonded to a demon in any sort of fashion. But the alternative was too horrible to even think of, and he had to act immediately if he was going to be able to do anything at all, so without thinking about it any further, he crouched down and slid a hand under Nie Huaisang's neck to lift his head, then bit into his other wrist hard enough to draw blood. Just as he was about to press the bloody tear to Nie Huaisang's mouth, cloudy green eyes cracked open, only vaguely focusing on him. "Ah?"
Zhuzhi-lang went very still, then inhaled slowly. "Please forgive this one for his deceit, Nie-zongzhu. My blood is partially that of a heavenly demon, so it will cure you, but-" "Will it hurt you? Trap you?" Nie Huaisang asked, voice so weak even his ears strained to catch it. "No, Nie-zongzhu," Zhuzhi-lang replied, his own voice sticking in his throat at the fact that the human cared enough to even ask. "I will be perfectly safe." Nie Huaisang nodded weakly in acknowledgment, then his eyes closed again and he went limp. Swallowing hard, Zhuzhi-lang began to drip blood into his mouth, carefully tilting his head far enough to coax it down his throat. Then, once he was reasonably sure there was enough, he pressed a soft kiss against Nie Huaisang's forehead and fully laid him back down to wait and hope for the best.
15 notes · View notes
nacreousgore · 10 months
Text
down to tartarus
After being injured by a creature Theo recognises, he waits in an empty house for Scott to find him.
Theo whump Sceo ficlet, words: 1,780
There’s nothing new about the situation. Theo’s holed up somewhere dank and quiet, the lights all off. There’s no hum of electricity here, but pain rings constant. He’s bleeding quietly, and the slices in him have heartbeats of their own.
The worst one’s in his leg. He got the angle right when he twisted to the side; dodged the worst of the barbed talons aiming at him, sacrificed the meat of his upper thigh to spare his femoral artery.
It’s beginning to heal, holding onto a slowness that Theo curses as he digs his fingers around the trench in him. It curses him back, oozing a deep colour out over his fingers.
He had assumed it was another hunter when it first struck him. He mistook the initial sting of claws for shrapnel when they bit into his shoulder. He couldn’t classify them as vulturine until it was circling back and striking again - hitting him from above when he was braced for every other possible direction.
He tries to admonish himself as a distraction, but it feels halfhearted in the dark. There had been plenty of hunters to deal with in the past; it hadn’t been a complete shot in the dark.
Monroe had dissipated like smoke, but her impact hung around like the smell of it. Clinging to clothes and the treads of work boots. Staining skin like nicotine and blood. Theo had been vigilant to the constant threat of humans and their guns, but he had gotten lazy - he had assumed they were the threat at hand in this latest attack.
He wasn’t expecting this one, but once it was on him and he saw it, named it - classified it, he wasn’t surprised either.
There’s blood on him. His skin and his clothes, and he itches to take it off.
He’s not sure how Scott finds him, though he’s been waiting for him to. Together it makes him uneasy, like he’s been following a predetermined pattern, like there’s still eyes on him wherever he goes, no matter how low he tries to lay.
“You’re hurt,” Scott says. It’s a needless thing to say. Scott’s presence here is needless, but so is Theo’s really, since -
“I’m fine.”
He’s bleeding on the floor, his jeans soaked through on the left side - but he’d turned; it missed the artery; he’ll live for now.
“You’re not fooling anyone,” Scott says. It’s kindness, and despite being masked with something callous, it’s gentle. It speeds up Theo’s pulse. He feels more than a little lightheaded. Losing blood. What can he do with gentle? It puts him on edge, makes him want to be cruel. He could say something like fooled you before, didn’t I? He could dress it up, witless and sardonic. He doesn’t.
“I’m fine,” he says. He tries what he’s been trying lately - again.
Again, with more conviction.
The problem with deceit is the expression housed in Scott’s eye now.
Scott won’t face him fully, won’t turn his back to that open door behind them. Darkness is spilling out towards them from the long hallway. Theo knows the house is empty - no one comes here anymore - but Scott won’t be easily convinced.
That’s the expression Scott’s harbouring. He’s unconvinced and unshaken.
There’s no electricity in the house, and the streetlights outside won’t reach in this far. Theo’s eyesight is compromised while he’s injured, and Scott’s face is painted lowlight grey, the faint lines on his skin more sunken with shadow.
The harpy’s face had been grey and sunken too. Tara looked so much like their mother, even with that drowned expression. Composed of sallow skin like it was shaped out of wax. Theo wonders whose face it wore for Scott.
“It attacked a crowd last night,” Scott says, plucking the monster from his mind. Information offered, in exchange for what? “The park off Norwich Boulevard - at a fireworks show.”
Memorial Day. Theo had seen the alert on his calendar and spent the whole day waiting for the fireworks to start. They made him nervous like a dog. Focused explosions, colour dripping from pockets in the sky usually preceded things he didn’t like. Those sparks of electricity, currents swimming beneath the ground. Work to be done. First the work, then the grime of the cleanup.
“Did you get a good look at it?” Scott asks. Another needless question, Theo thinks. He’s all torn up from close quarters attacks. He could probably draw Scott a picture, though someone’s beat him to that.
Theo nods, flattening a palm against the wall behind him. The cement is cool while he digs his other hand around the gash in his leg, and braces to haul himself up.
He watches Scott make to move forward, to start to say something like don’t get up, then hold himself back from it.
Theo doesn’t miss the way Scott’s hands tighten at his side so as to not extend a hand towards him. It’s a conscious effort not to. Theo marvels at it, not for the first time.
“Any dead?” Theo asks. It’s partially a leading question. He wants to ask if it took the body but he doesn’t want to show his hand yet and deplete his usefulness all at once.
And relaying information that Scott already knows runs too close to desperate for Theo to risk.
“One missing,” Scott says, and his eyes shift to trace back down the hall like he’s searching for them now, through the walls of the house. You won’t find anyone here. “A wendigo,” he adds.
Theo asks for their name and Scott tells him even though there’s clearly nothing Theo could do with that here and now. He files it away to look into later.
He’s almost certain what he’ll find - shifters inflicted with the hunger don’t discriminate when the hunger calls for them. Usually pubescent when it finds them, and they’re usually with their families. That silly instinct children have - to run home to their parents when something happens.
The blood loss is making him weaker, and making it more difficult to stave things off.
Scott’s not about to drag him out of here. He just came scouting for him, hoping to pick his brain, maybe to check that he wasn’t dead.
The Walcott family was a curious anomaly. An anomaly to Theo, at least. The Doctors were the ones who found them curious. Their names were stored down there in the laboratory boards alongside rows of Punnett squares.
Theo slithers back down the wall. It’s worse on the ground, Scott standing tall, surrounded by shadows. Theo down in the dirt like he’s back in the chasm and Scott’s visiting his grave, though why would he, really?
“Wendigos,” Theo says. The quizzical look on Scott’s face gives him something to focus on. “They don’t normally group together.”
“No,” Scott agrees, and his eyes are scanning over Theo, examining him carefully without coming any closer.
The wendigos in Beacon Hills were ill-named, too. They were something else, some dormant gene inside the cells that converted iron differently, something that turned people insatiable and sharpened their teeth.
The Geneticist had been so fascinated with them. An obsessive hobbyist, a collector, she stored jars upon jars, bottles upon bottles on the shelves in her workstation. Wendigo teeth grinned at Theo from glass prisons, samples of their tissue and their stomach lining. One of everything. He hated being in that room, but he found himself there often, under his own kind of volition.
Theo suspected she would have spoken it all aloud anyway, whether or not he was present to listen. She recited while she worked, both the mythos and the facts, and then the new facts they stitched together like the bindings of leather books and stitching of old skin.
There’s an old book on a table in the other room; the wooden dining table built to seat four.
It’s opened to the entry Theo figured Scott would be interested in. He’d made sure not to get blood on the pages.
The Geneticist wrote the entry. It’s a mess of mythos and cross hatching, hybrid beasts harvesting fodder for the Furies, in turn how the Furies would drag their victims down to Tartarus.
There’s a shorthand message scrawled beneath the crude drawing - targets those who have killed their own families. Theo’s hoping it’s enough distraction for Scott - a warning to carry back to his pack. Scott's a collector too. He already has a coyote with red hands.
Theo imagines the bird with the face of a frightened child and grimaces, masking it as a wince of pain. Scott’s eyes are on him. Still trapped in the dark, Theo can’t tell if he’s being regarded as small and wounded by an alpha wolf or by a veterinarian.
From underneath the scrutiny, Theo mutters something about the presence of the book. His cards scatter across the floor.
Peculiarly, Scott doesn’t rush to find the book. He idles in the dark for a moment like he’s waiting for something more.
“It’s a harpy,” Theo says. Redundant - the book offers more than he does.
Scott lets out a breath and leaves the room then. It feels formal, again like a visitor leaving a gravesite.
Theo closes his eyes. It’s a menial difference from the dark of the house. His head has a sway to it, an ache with motion. He’s not sure who really counts as the visitor here.
They’re not buried here but it’s still their grave. That shouldn’t really matter. There are graves everywhere in this town.
There’s one that stretches on forever, underneath the surface of the town and the earth. Theo can feel it when he moves around, how hollow it is beneath his feet.
“Come with me,” Scott says then.
Healing has his hearing taken down a notch too; Theo hadn’t noticed him come back into the room.
The blood that’s leaking out from him has been soaking into the floorboards, consumed by the empty rooms.
"You’re hurt,” Scott says again, and Theo’s head is aching, swaying with the redundancy of it.
“Inconsequential,” he says, and the house feels a little darker.
But there’s an arm reaching down for him now. Scott reaching for him - finishing the movement that he started when the earth first opened up beneath him.
It’s the same thing he’s dreamt of when he dreams that he’s falling.
The arm with black rings around it, serpents swallowing their tails, a hand reaching for him like tree roots, like a hole in the ground.
The earth, the serpents, Scott’s lips parting to show his teeth, all things destined to consume, things shaped for Theo the way this empty house isn’t anymore.
3 notes · View notes
ao3feed-obikin · 1 year
Text
The Lay of Kenobi and Skywalker
read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/43978002 by wasureneba Long ago, there were two knights of the Jedi Order: Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker. Their names were known throughout Galaxya. They commanded armies on the field, and negotiated peace in the halls of lords. The criers spread news of their doings, but the bards– The bards sang the stories of their duels with the Sith dragons. There are many tales about Kenobi, Skywalker, and the Sith dragons, but only three are known well in these later years. The first is The Death of Master Jinn, a sad enough story, of how Kenobi became a knight by defeating the dragon Maul who had killed his master, and took his master’s ward Anakin as his padawan squire. The second is Geonosis, which recounts the beginning of the Republican Crusades and how Anakin Skywalker lost his hand to the dragon Tyrannus, who had once been Jinn’s own Jedi master. The third is The Battle of Coruscant, a long and twisting tale indeed, a tale of deceit concocted by the dragon Sidious in which Skywalker’s revenge on Tyrannus is only a preface for terrors to come. There is a fourth story, one little told now in these unromantic days. That story, The Lay of Kenobi and Skywalker, is the story I tell you today. Words: 8868, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker, Darth Sidious, Vokara Che, CT-6116 | Kix, CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives, CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo, Clone Trooper Waxer (Star Wars), Clone Trooper Boil (Star Wars) Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Order 66 Fix-It (Star Wars), Sort Of, Established Relationship, Protective Anakin Skywalker, Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Force Visions (Star Wars), Rated For Violence, No Smut, Burns, accidental love letters to Matthew Stover's Revenge of the Sith, accidental love letters to Sigurd and Fafnir, No Beta We Die Like Clones read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/43978002
2 notes · View notes