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skymaiden32 · 1 year

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Here is my entry for @uniwolfcorn ‘s Whump Couch, ft. her boy Alan! ^^ (Sorry if this is a little late)

Artwork (base by Uni, Alan by me):

Story:

Consequences

AO3 link here

Fandom: Thunderbirds

When Alan is injured on a rescue and keeps it secret from his brothers, he learns very quickly that hiding these sorts of things has consequences.

Continuity: TOS

Tagging: @dragonoffantasyandreality @thundergeek59 @janetm74 @katblu42 @liseylou @amistrio @uniwolfcorn (Please ask if you would like to be updated when I update or write new stories)

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It had started in his left arm, a tingly sensation that was his only warning something was wrong before the limb went entirely numb. He barely remembered the fall that caused it. All he remembered was practically his entire weight falling on top of it. He’d brushed off his brothers’ worried questions, but now he wanted to call it quits. Get Scott to call Virgil over and patch him up. Hell, he knew he should’ve done just that. But they’d only been in the Danger Zone for two hours. And given how extensive the flooded area was, with so many people who needed their help, Alan knew they would be there for a full day at the least. They couldn’t afford to have a man down right now.

So Alan had stayed, avoiding the problem with typical Tracy stubbornness, and pushed through. The more he did, the worse the pain became, spreading across his entire being until he couldn’t take it any longer. By the end, he felt like his entire body was on fire. He let out a small sigh of relief when it was finally time to go home. He noticed Scott’s concerned glare in his direction as they packed up the equipment, Gordon and Virgil giving him similar looks, and he tried to push down the wave of guilt.

Now, he watched Virgil start pre-flight checks, flicking on controls tiredly, but with enough experience and training behind him that no-one was afraid of him falling asleep at the wheel. The engines roared into life, and the great green ship took to the sky, not far behind her silver sister. Gordon took notice of the exact moment his little brother blacked out from the pain, and sighed, catching Virgil’s attention.

“Welp.” The aquanaut began, popping the p. “I don’t know how he did it, but he managed to hide it for almost the whole time. I didn’t even realise something was wrong till we were packing up.”

Virgil huffed, switching Thunderbird Two to auto-pilot and moving from his pilot’s chair to where his youngest brother lay motionless in one swift motion. “He had me fooled too.” He was ashamed to admit it. Virgil was the medic, he was supposed to notice. Now, he grimaced when he saw the state of Alan’s arm. His brother was lucky this wasn’t worse. “And we both know Scott would’ve gone into full panic Smotherhen mode if he’d noticed anything wrong.” Virgil moved to the back of the cabin, grabbing what he needed from the first-aid cabinet.

“He’s probably blaming himself for it all right now.” Gordon mused worriedly.

“And we’re gonna snap him out of it once we’re done with Mr. Secrets here.” Virgil gestured to Alan’s prone form, rolling his eyes fondly. The frown was ever present on his face. “For now, though, hold him in place while I set his arm.”

The aquanaut nodded, determined. “Aye, aye, Doc.” When they had finally finished, Gordon lay Alan’s head gently in his lap, combing his fingers through wet and sticky blond hair. “Yeesh, Al…” Gordon muttered. “You really need a shower.”

------

By the time Alan finally woke up, it was to the sick-bay on Tracy Island, Scott and his father watching over him with looks that were the perfect blend between angry and worried. Virgil was standing just inside the room, leaning against the doorway in the case he needed to intervene. He was dead. He was so dead…

“And just what exactly were you thinking, young man?” Jeff asked maybe a little too harshly, raising an eyebrow.

Scott rolled his eyes, giving the patriarch a look. “Dad, please. He just woke up…”

Jeff sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re right.” He looked back to his youngest, adjusting his tone to something a hint gentler. “You alright to talk, son?” Alan nodded, not trusting his voice just yet. “Oh, good…”

“Gordon left a few hours to pick up Tin-Tin from her doctor’s appointment. They’ll be back soon. That being said, why did you think hiding an injury like that would be a good idea?” Scott echoed their father’s earlier question.

“We were worried about you, Al.” Virgil piped up from the other side of the room. Jeff and Scott nodded in agreement. “You were incredibly lucky it wasn’t a compound fracture.” He admitted.

This statement made everyone else in the room freeze. “It-” Scott’s voice was uncharacteristically small. “It was that bad?”

Virgil nodded solemnly. “Gordon can back up that claim…” The family medic whispered.

“He doesn’t need to.” Jeff spoke up, immediately picking up on the idea that Virgil might be doubting himself. “We have full faith in your medical expertise, son.” Virgil didn’t look entirely convinced, but nodded.

“I’m sorry…” Alan’s voice came out so shaky from the pain as he moved that he hardly recognised it, but he was determined to get the words out. “I knew I should’ve come to you guys sooner.” His voice regulated the more he talked. “But we had so much ground to cover and only four of us. I couldn’t just let you all work your butts off while I was stuck in Two’s med-bay doing nothing!”

The three older Tracy’s exchanged a look, before Scott huffed, not unkindly. “Alan, let me worry about stuff like that. You know the authorities were there to assist. I would’ve rather been a man down than have you still working with that arm.”

“But-”

Scott cut off his objection. “If you really would’ve been that bored in Two, I would’ve given you something to do.” He smiled tiredly at his brother, ruffling his hair. “Probably would’ve let you take Mobile Control…” He shrugged, smirking as he broke his gaze with Alan briefly.

“Aww man…” Alan lamented. He’d wanted a chance to man Mobile Control again for months.

Virgil chuckled. “That’s what you get for ignoring protocol and not telling us you’d broken. Your. Arm!” The annoyed gaze was back.

Jeff cleared his throat, drawing his boys’ attention back to him. “All that aside, what you did today was very dangerous, Alan. What if you needed to operate the heavy machinery? What if, heaven forbid, our enemies had picked up on your injury and taken advantage? You should’ve told the others straight away.”

“I know, Father. I’m sorry…”

“I know you are, son. I’ll let you rest for now, but we will be talking about this more later, okay?”

“Okay.” And with that, their father was gone, likely to let the rest of the family know he was awake. “Thank God John’s only just started his month on Five…” Alan groaned. “And Tin is probably out of her mind I really messed this one up, didn’t I?”

Neither of his brothers present said a word. Instead, all they heard were the sounds of heavy footsteps before the door flew open once more, and Alan was face to face with his partner in crime, the love of his life right on his heels. “Are you okay, Alan?!” Gordon practically yelled, earning him a stern glance from Scott.

Alan chuckled, clinging onto the hand Tin-Tin offered. The look in her eyes told him she’d be giving him her own lecture later. “I will be, Gords.” He let his eyes slip closed, safe in the knowledge that he had the most amazing family watching over him. He’d never keep them in the dark again. “I will be…”

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds 1965 #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds fanart #thunderfam #the whump couch #alan tracy #virgil tracy #gordon tracy #scott tracy #jeff tracy #tin tin kyrano #sky draws stuff #sky writes stuff

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seetheothersideofparadise · 1 year

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The King Will Bow: Fallen Crown

I asked in a poll what I should write and Whumper Turned Whumpee won so IM DOING IT! Had an idea I was thinking about using and this was just the push I needed, enjoy :)

Summary: Julian is well known and respected for his work in training servants, bodyguards, pets— whatever the client has asked. Cecil is a new up and coming trainer looking to make a splash, and decides his most recent project will be Julian.

Tags for this one are: Whumper Turned Whumpee, Kidnapping, Defiant Whumpee, Talk of Conditioning/‘Training’, Drugged, Bound And Gagged Whumpee, Creepy/Intimate Whumper, Dehumanization, Talk of past and implied future Pet Whump, Blindfolds, Blood, Nosebleed (But Not Broken), A Little Violence, POV Whumpee, and Human Trafficking. Tell me if I missed anything!

Note for the worldbuilding, while the characters act like the whole profession of ‘Kidnapping and Training People For Their Own Gain’ isn’t something to blink twice at, this is because they’re rich assholes. This is a rich asshole thing, not a normalized thing.

—

Julian was very good at what he did.

There were many people in the world who wanted servants, pets, bodyguards— the specifics varied. They needed people who were trained to never disobey them. And Julian? He could provide that.

He didn’t do the dirty work of choosing who was sent to him, or even capturing them. Someone else always took care of that and sent them his way. Someone who wouldn’t be missed, someone who could disappear and barely raise an alarm— someone who could be taken away and molded into someone else. And Julian trained them into their new lives.

Of course, it was forceful, because none of them were too happy about it, but that didn’t matter. They didn’t matter, they were a tool and it was Julian’s job to make them see that, however he saw fit. Once they were ready— obedient and pliable— Julian sent them on their way, or sold them off to the highest bidder. It was out of his hands then, maybe he’d see them around if he was around whoever they were shipped off to, but he never acknowledged them. They weren’t his problem anymore. They didn’t matter.

Julian was a trainer and a very good one at that, respected in his field. Sometimes other trainers coming up and asking him for advice on the process and what he did. There were people who requested a job be done by him specifically, even paying extra for it. He got to go to events with people who controlled whole chunks of the city and sit and chat with them like old friends. Julian was powerful.

He just… Was feeling a bit off at that moment.

Julian blinks a few times fast, trying not to sway at one of the most important events of the year. He manages to make it to his table and take a seat, feeling woozy all of a sudden. He sets his drink down in order to rub his face, wondering if maybe he’s had one too many. He wasn’t counting really— he was to excited. He had been talking to the Maxwell Ravens a few moments ago. To get the respect from that guy meant getting it from everybody. If he could get into his inner circle— be a trainer endorsed by him— it would change everything. His career would skyrocket.

He really didn’t want to go home early but Julian wasn’t seeing many options. The last thing he needed was to pass out at an event like this— people would laugh at him for years to come and that’s the exact opposite of what he needed.

Julian groans into his hands as his vision sways harder. The lesser of two evils it is.

Doing his best to walk straight, Julian makes his way across the room and over to Maxwell himself, flashing an apologetic smile. Those who were talking to him a moment before flash looks at Julian before shuffling away when Maxwell murmured something that Julian didn’t hear. It was getting hard to think but he forced the words out anyways. “Hey, I would love to talk with you more about business and pleasure and everything in between but I got some loose ends I need to take care of in the morning so I gotta jet! Get a good night’s sleep y’know?”

Maxwell regards him calmly. It’s hard to get a read on the guy— his ‘I think I like you’ face and ‘I think you’re a bug beneath my shoe’ faces are disturbingly similar. But he smiles politely all the same and nods. “Another time then.”

“For sure.” Julian agrees. “You got my number right? Anytime you want my services, I’m there. I would be such an honor that I’d do it for free!”

“I’m aware.” Maxwell says. There’s a flicker in his eyes— darker, Julian thinks?— but it’s smoothed over so quickly that he’s not certain. “You’ve sent several emails with the same message. And told all my associates how much your work could benefit me.”

Julian winces. Maybe he went a little hard on the sell there but— Maxwell could really change things, he had to shoot his shot. He laughs, albeit awkwardly, and holds his hands up. “I’ll chill out on that— sorry, you’re just— it’s an honor to even be in the same room as you!”

Maxwell’s expression doesn’t change. Julian supposes he probably hears that a lot. He’s basically a modern king— the way people talk about him sometimes sounds like he’s being worshipped, and for good reason. Maxwell controls the fate of the entire city in the palm of his hand.

Nonetheless, Maxwell continues, looking down at his drink and taking a long sip before running a finger around the rim of the glass. “I’m sure it’ll happen again sooner or later, and I’m sure one of these days, I’ll find a way for you to… Benefit me.”

Julian’s heart skips in excitement but he holds back his enthusiasm. He’s struggling to maintain the conversation at all— he better go. Julian dips his head and murmurs one last goodbye and thank you before heading for the exit. He feels eyes on him when he leaves but doesn’t dare turn back.

Julian allows his efforts to drop as he makes his way to the garage. He can feel a headache coming on from his effort, and it only gets worse from there. By some miracle, he makes it to his car without tripping over his own feet, finding they’re heavier than before, but just before he opens up the driver’s door, he realizes there’s no way he can drive without crashing. He’s barely even standing— he feels worse than before— and nauseous. Like his limbs are weighing down on him.

“Had too much to drink?” A voice asks from behind. Julian jumps, spinning around. He’s able to identify the person pretty quickly— Cecil Winters, a trainer like him. He got into the business just two years ago— Julian was surprised to hear that someone who hadn’t been around that long got into an event like this that quickly. It took five for Julian had to get invited— how’d he get picked so quickly?

Cecil looks him up and down, almost amused. Julian rolls his eyes, turning back to his car. “‘m fine.” He spits out. His words slur a bit but it doesn’t matter— Cecil might be a rising star but if it’s Julian’s word or his, Julian is pretty confident people will believe him. This damn newbie isn’t gonna ruin his reputation, no matter how fast he’s moving.

Julian refocuses his attention on his car, trying to think of a way he could get home. He could call a professional driver— or would that tip people off? Damn it, why wasn’t he paying attention to how much he was drinking?

Out of his rear view mirror, Julian sees Cecil stroll up to him, though not quite face-to-face. There’s something about the way he’s moving that’s so— off putting. Julian doesn’t understand it.

“Or maybe,” Cecil grins a little wider and Julian ignores how it creeps him out, “It wasn’t about the quantity of what you drank, just what was in it.”

Julian stops at that. It’s… Wrong somehow. Sends alarms in his head. Why is this little punk freaking him out so much? Is he high? “‘he fuck are ‘ou talkin’ about?” He slurs, sending Cecil a side glance. The world goes fuzzy at its edges.

Cecil laughs at him this time, openly. A bitter and furious feeling hits Julian— how fucking dare he? Does he know who he is?

“You’ve lasted longer than I gave you credit for, I’ll give you that. But there’s no way you’re driving home like that.”

He rolls his eyes at that, anger burning at the edges— who the hell does he think this guy is? “I told ‘ou—”

He doesn’t get another word out. In the blink of an eye, Cecil rushes him, grabbing him and wrestling him into the ground. Julian immediately shouts and fights back, but his limbs don’t quite hit as hard as he would like. Cecil wastes no time slamming him into the ground, knocking the wind out of him, and pinning him on his stomach. Julian attempts to thrash and kick him off but suddenly there’s a hand gripping his hair, pulling his head back, then smashing his face into the floor as hard as he can.

Julian gasps in pain, blood oozing from his nose. He’s taken hits before but not like this— not this brutal. The stars in his eyes take a while to fade and Julian wants to struggle but the hand in his hair lets go and he can’t keep his head up. His faces hit the ground again, lighter this time but with his new injury it feels just as bad, and Julian chokes on his pain.

He barely registers that his arms are being messed with until something tightens around them, forcing them to be folded behind his back. The fog in his head makes it hard to think but Julian tries to brute force his way out of whatever has his arms in a hold. It doesn’t budge— he’s weak and it strikes fear in him when he realizes it. His arms are restrained by something tough, and his years of experience of using very similar restraints tells him it’s leather. He can move and jerk all he wants but it only serves to tire him out. Julian is trapped.

Rage finds him easily. “You fucking—” Julian seethes but is abruptly cut off. Thick cloth is shoved into his mouth and tied around his head. He struggles as hard as he can, trying to buck Cecil off of him and not freeze and panic like his thumping heart wants him to but he doesn’t have the energy. He’s so drained, and it doesn’t help when something is strapped to his head that blocks out his eyes, plunging him into darkness. It only makes him feel more tired, eyes drooping.

Julian bites curses out, muffled through the gag but it’s all he has. He’s panicking now— terror and anger mixing until he doesn’t know what is what anymore. Cecil ignores him, humming as he seems to swap his position, now pinning his legs down and beginning to strap them together too. No amount of kicking does anything— his attempts are pitiful at best and before he knows it, there’s two straps on his upper and lower legs, giving him very little room to work with.

“There we go.” Cecil says at last, satisfaction and pride in his voice. Julian finds it hard to focus, sleep pulling him in, but the terror and fury just barely keeps it at bay. “I know you can’t see it right now but you’re a work of art. In fact, I think you look better like this.”

There’s a brief pause before there’s a hand grabbing his chin, forcing his head to move one way, then the other. Julian shouts angrily, muffled but hoping it gets his point across. Cecil doesn’t say a word to acknowledge it, still humming to himself.

“Yeah, lots better.” He can hear the grin in Cecil’s voice. He runs a thumb over the gag and Julian tries to snap at him but it doesn’t really work. “Someone needs to be muzzled.” Cecil laughs to himself, and Julian’s anger boils over even more. “I’ll get one just for you. But we have to get going— after all, you do have a busy morning ahead of you.”

Cecil lugs Julian over his shoulder like he’s a fucking bag of flour. Julian shouts curses into his gag, swearing vengeance and threats that are never heard, and the wind is knocked out of him again when Cecil throws him onto a cold, metal floor. Julian figures out pretty quickly that it’s a van when it starts up.

He tries screaming and fighting but he’s rapidly running out of energy. Everything is getting so heavy and Julian can’t stand it. It’s clear to him now— something he drank wasn’t right, meaning— meaning Cecil planned this. He wanted to do this all along and was just biding his time.

Julian doesn’t know what the hell is going on but he’s betting on hostage negotiations or— something of that nature. He has the money, that status— kidnapping him has a lot of uses. But it doesn’t matter— Julian is gonna get out of this and ruin Cecil. He doesn’t care how but he’s gonna make sure his career ends here and now.

The drugs wear him down bit by bit by the second. Julian feels his eyes grow tired and tries desperately to stay awake and not miss a thing, but it’s a losing battle. He’s too tired to move anyways— better to sleep the drugs off and deal with in the morning.

The second he stops fighting it, Julian passes out.

—

That’s the first part! Julian is about to find out really quickly that it’s not a hostage negotiation in the slightest, and get a taste of his own medicine along the way.

Hope y’all enjoyed!! Been wanting to do some Whumper Turned Whumpee stuff and just got the perfect excuse to :)

#atlas writes #The King Will Bow Series #whumper turned whumpee #creepy whumper #intimate whumper #blood #nosebleed #drugged whumpee #bound and gagged whumpee #blindfolded whumpee #dehumanization #kidnapping #defiant whumpee #pet whump

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sonderwalker · 3 years

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Ooh if you’re still doing the whump prompts, 3 or 9?

9: leaving the waste basket nearby

“It’s fine, Anakin.” Obi-Wan whispered, his eyes closed. The sun was starting to set behind the skyscrapers of Coruscant, and Anakin watched as the shadows that were cast through the room changed shape. Obi-Wan’s quarters were neater than his- no droid parts or holoboks scattered about. Anakin turned back to look at Obi-Wan, who now had the covers on his bed pulled up to his chin.

He sighed. “It’s not fine.” Anakin said softly. “If it were fine, we would be out at Dex’s together, or training with Ahsoka.”

“But, it’s not your fault, so I don’t even wanna hear you start with that.” Anakin added on quickly when he sensed Obi-Wan’s mood shift, and saw his eyes open. He closed them again.

After a moment of silence, Anakin cleared his throat and spoke again. “I left the trash can by the edge of the bed. In case you get sick again.”

Obi-Wan groaned softly. “I hope not.” Anakin sat down on the edge of the bed and gently squeezed Obi-Wan’s shoulder. He thought about how many times this situation had been reversed- had this exact same scenario not played out a month ago after another disastrous mission? Usually, Anakin was the one who was getting hurt. Now that he was the one who was the caretaker, the one who worried while the other assured that they were alright, he understood a lot about how Obi-Wan felt now. He understood a lot more about when Obi-Wan looked at him with that one specific look when he came to see him in the medical bay. And Anakin was sure that he had the exact same expression on his face as he gently brushed some of Obi-Wan’s hair out of his face.

“If you keep frowning like that, you’re going to get wrinkles.” Obi-Wan said, smiling up at Anakin.

“You’re one to talk.” Anakin retorted. Obi-Wan sighed and closed his eyes again.

“Are you sure that you don’t need anything else?” Anakin asked softly.

Obi-Wan huffed. “Yes, I’m sure.” A moment passed. “Although...”

Anakin’s eyebrows quickly shot up. “Although? Although what?”

Obi-Wan grimaced slightly. “No, it would be too much trouble. I’m sure that you have other things to do.” Anakin sighed, looking back up at the window, contemplating turning a light on as it was now twilight, and the sun had finally fallen past the skyscrapers outside of the temple.

“I don’t have anything else planned for today.” Anakin replied quickly. “Ahsoka has a big exam coming up, so I’m letting her take as much time as she needs to so she can study for it.”

“Are you sure?” Obi-Wan asked, opening his eyes slightly.

“Yes, I’m sure.” Anakin replied, rolling his eyes.

“Then, would you-” Obi-Wan began, reaching his hand out. But through their bond, Anakin already knew what he wanted before he said it.

“Of course.” Anakin replied.

“But you better not throw up on me again.”

Obi-Wan laughed softly. “I’ll try my best to aim for the trash can this time.”

from this list of writing prompts!

#asks #my writing #writing #prompt #whump #Anakin Skywalker #Obi-Wan Kenobi

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luninosity · 4 years

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For @musette22 and the anon asking about Evanstan whump fics (& from the ask sounded like they were interested in Seb!whump?)...

...I knew I had some things in my bookmarks, so I went and looked! I do like comfort along with hurt, so none of these are dark!fics in the sense of lacking comfort, but perhaps one of these will fit what you’re looking for? There might be more in my AO3 bookmarks somewhere, too, but these seemed like maybe good fits?

(side note: some part of me has persistently on and off for years wanted to write an Evanstan version of my old McFassy fic with the “oh god I thought you were dead” trope - like, Chris would be on the way home from filming or an interview or something, and would get home only to discover the aftermath of the fire or the building collapse or the train wreck or something, and oh god Sebastian was there, Sebastian’s not answering his phone now, Sebastian’s - oh god no - but then suddenly Sebastian is there, alive and fine and running over to find Chris, because he’s fine and he missed the train or had gone out for coffee and forgotten his phone or something...) (but I also feel like it might end up being repetitive, since I did do that exact fic, pretty much, with Michael and James...and anyway there’s already a glorious Evanstan version of this trope, in my first rec below!)

Anyway! Fics that might work:

At the Bottom of Everything, Anon, 12k, T. Angst with a happy ending, fake character death, Chris thinking Seb was on the plane that crashed (but he wasn’t), SO MANY FEELS.

when the words hit (my heart stopped), Anon, 3k, T. Sort of similar tropes to the above but with a funnier slant, in the end - Chris gets a horribly garbled message and can just make out “Sebastian, car accident, hospital,” and he’s utterly terrified, but - without real spoilers - it turns out to be not that bad. :-)

the falling into motion series by @boopifer, currently 2 stories, 7k and 4k, M. AU with mob boss Chris and escort Seb, more Seb!whump in story two, when one of Seb’s assignations goes badly and he comes to Chris for protection after. Inspired by, er, my and Reg’s Amateur Cartography, which I’ll mention next, I suppose?

Amateur Cartography by me & MonstrousRegiment, 97k, E. I never know how to describe this one! Um...AU with...art teacher Chris, mob boss’s son / sort of escort Seb (his father lends out him to important people to flatter them and keep them happy), slow burn until it’s not, kidnapping, hurt/comfort all over the place, and I apologize for how many times Seb gets impaled / shot / injured in this fic, but I swear it’s a happy ending!

the we walk the sun series by me & @thebestpersonherelovesbucky, currently 5 stories (it reads as complete; we might still do a sixth one, set a few months later, but you can read it all as is and it’ll be fine), stories range from 9k to 3k, overall E rating. Sci-fi AU with kidnapped & forcibly genetically modified (no non-con, just experimentation) cat!Seb, lots of trauma and recovery and healing, exploring those changes, dealing with Seb in heat, gentle Dom/sub themes because Seb still belongs to Chris in every way.

...let’s see, what else...

...probably a couple of the Extra Sugar bonus chapters would fit here? Like chapter 6 or chapter 28, both of which have hurt!Seb? (chapter 6 is worse in terms of sexual assault, though we mostly see the aftermath, with Chris rushing to find his submissive in the hospital, so the non-con’s not really on-screen, as it were; chapter 28 is Seb in a car accident and in the hospital)

...and maybe a couple of my very early fics with hurt!Seb? Just Like Honey to the Bee and Stars Out Of The Blue both have Seb with minor on-set injuries (not major whump, but...) and protective Chris and love confessions; All That You’re Making Of Me has the chapter with Seb’s date (well, random hookup at a club) escalating into non-con oral sex and then Seb calling Chris and Chris taking care of him and lots of comfort. <3

That’s what I can think of at the moment that might work! :-)

#evanstan #fic recs #hurt!seb #kinda

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0idril0 · 5 years

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Caged 2

Ok y’all this is a 3000 word monster that is a little different from the feel of the first installment. It has a lot of worldbuilding. I understand if it’s not what people wanted to see, but let me know in the comments! I’m always open to feedback.

Thanks @whumpywhumper and @wwayward-vagabond for beta reading for me! oh and a PSA, whumpywhumper has an OC named Emric as well, I forgot him when I was writing, so if she ever posts about him know she had the name first but was gracious enough to let me use the name.

These people showed some interest @voidwhump @inpainandsuffering @imagination1reality0 @genesissane @whumpitywhumpwhump @castielamigos @whumping-every-day @kyra-plays Let me know if you want to be tagged in future installments

Supernatural Protection and Criminal Analysis

Anoria’s caracal form glided on silent paws into the ornate foyer, disgusted. So, this is what smuggling gets you. The foyer glimmered, gold and silver reflected light from a giant crystal chandelier onto polished wooden floors.

As she and Emric approached a set of double doors they joined least 15 people waiting to enter. Anoria felt a snarl crease her face as the inventoried them. The woman in front of her had heels that probably cost more than her rent.

Emric played with her leash as he spoke with the doorman, handing over his coat and jacket with their gilded invitation.

“Ah, Mister Roland Moore, Master Murdoch has you on the list.” The doorman gestured at the double doors beside him, pulling open the heavy door like it was weightless.

What they walked into... it made her sick.

“Fuck...” Emric stared for a moment, wide eyed, and she lashed her tail in agreement. An orchestra started in the corner, couples dancing on a large dance floor, rings of elegant couches fanning through the rest of the great hall. There were supernaturals and exotics with every group.

They were illegal to own, supposed to be free according to the World Conservation Acts from 1945. But illegal trade still thrived.

“Alright, here we go...” Emric’s soft voice was barely audible before he clicked his tongue at her and moved forward, eyes scanning the room surreptitiously.

They meandered, walking past what amounted to exhibits. An aquarium took up one of the largest walls. Mercreatures floated listlessly as children pressed their sticky faces against the glass. A few rapped at the aquarium wall when the creatures’ hollow eyes didn’t register them.

“Why won’t it move?!” Whining, one of the children struck the glass, trying to make a golden tailed humanoid move from where she had curled under a rock.

What appeared to be the mother snatched his hand, whispering venomously. “Will, so help me, if you get us kicked out of here after everything I’ve done to get here....”

She watched as they traveled to a different wall, this one taken up by ornamental bird cages. Her eyes fixated on one of them as they passed, the small, rapidly moving figures igniting the portion of her brain she tried to suppress in her caracal form.

Dragonflies. Their leathery bodies held aloft by mimic butterfly wings, the largest no more than palm sized.

Hundred of cages hung from the wall, each with a different type of tiny creature. She swiped at Emric’s leg, and pawed at the lowest cage.

“Fucking hell, Anoria.” Hissing, Emric shook his leg and leaned down the adjust her collar. “I see them. There’s more on the back wall, higher order, but I think those are stuffed.”

She hissed as she took in the last wall, horrified. A stuffed elf sat tucked into a hollow tree, and the twisting branches held a posed thunderbird and the shifted form of a werewolf.

Emric stood, eyes trained on a particular group. “There’s our target.”

He prowled towards the group of high profile guests subtly, putting an arrogant saunter in his step as he walked. It was the saunter that had sold him for the op, but the fact that was tall and well proportioned didn’t hurt.

One of their targets spotted him as he walked, eyeing him like a predator. Her hand rested on the three tailed fox in her lap, fingers caressing the jewel encrusted collar possessively. Emric gave her a sultry smile, slowing as he pretended he’d been walking past the group. “Well.... this party just got more interesting, here I thought I would be bored.”

The redhead smirked from where she sat, holding a champagne flute out to Emric, an obvious request for him to refill it. “Oh, the party hasn’t even begun, darling.”

Emric smiled his most inviting smile as he handed her a fresh glass from the table in front of them, settling close enough that his thigh brushed against her emerald gown.

“And who might you be?” His voice held the edge of a tease to it, he knew who she was, Ingrid Reed. Best friends with the host of the party, and known to be free with her affection.

The woman bit her lip, leaning until her chest brushed his arm as she purred huskily. “You, you, can call me Ms. Reed. If you’re good though, I’ll let you call me Mistress.”

Anoria jumped up onto the cushions beside Emric, settling her paws onto his leg as he smiled at the woman. “Well, that sounds promising.”

They flirted lightly until a hush fell over the room, followed by low muttering, groups of people turning towards a figure entering from doors leading further into the mansion.

He walked placidly behind his Master, staying behind him and to the left. The exact distance his master had taught him to be.

The silver collar and shackle on his ankle tinkled as he moved, and Master had attached what he’d called jesses to his wrists. He felt safer with them on. The silver inlaid leather kept his hands in front of him, fingers strapped together so they couldn’t move. The soft leather was thin and supple, a barely felt weight he was grateful for. It made sure he couldn’t hurt anyone with his claws. Because Master didn’t want to punish him.

The smell of food made his stomach rumble before they made it to the door of the large room his master held his gatherings in. Saliva pooled in his mouth, and he swallowed, wiping a shoulder at the cage attached to his face in an attempt to stop himself from drooling.

Master stopped him before they entered the great hall, grimacing in disgust at the drool dripping around the metal bit. He trembled as the tug at his collar made him come closer. Master unfastened the muzzle, gripping his hair tightly, as he wiped at his face with a square cloth to remove the traces of venom tinged saliva.

When he was done, the hand released his hair, resting on the back of his neck, thumb stroking his pulse. Crooning, he let his eyes close, sinking into the light fog his Master’s touch brought. “Here we are, lovely. Remember what I told you.”

The muzzle slipped back between his teeth, and he didn’t fight it this time. The gentle ministrations turned to his wings, Master’s broad hand smoothing a stray feather before gripping one of the crooked bones tightly. The fog receded minutely as his chest tightened, remembering Master breaking the bones repeatedly when he was small. Reminding him that Master was taking care of him now, he didn’t need to fly, he needed to stay with him. “Behave for me.”

He forced his wings to relax, straightening his spine and allowing his wings to unfurl to show the blue and black feathers, just like Master liked. The painful grip loosened, and a happy hum from the man had his tail uncurling from where it had wrapped around his calf.

The relief was shattered as the door opened, Master pulling him forward into a mass of humans.

The room was a storm of movement, his predator brain overwhelmed with the input. He zeroed in on a few of the smaller, brightly colored pets, stumbling as his eyes flickered between the groups in front of him.

He felt his already fast heartbeat accelerate as he followed his Master, worried the man would be angry at his lack of grace. Master had other pets to bring, if he decided to go get a different one then he wouldn’t be fed. A wave of dizziness passed over him as they grew close to a circle of humans, all seated on padded perches, their pets at their feet or in their laps as they lounged to eat.

The group of humans perked up as they approached, presenting for his master. His Master’s shoulders relaxed, a small smirk taking over his face as he took an empty seat.

A familiar red haired human hummed as Master sat, caressing the ears of a hollow-eyed, white fox. “There you are, Lachlan, I was beginning to wonder if you were coming to your own party.”

Master plucked a bubbling drink from the low table in front of him, pulling his collar so he knelt in front of the padded perch, within stroking distance. “And miss seeing you, dear? Never.”

Anoria dug her claws into Emric’s thigh, trying to get him to focus as Lachlan Murdoch took a seat. But she felt herself staring as well.

A Harpy. An obviously male Harpy.

They hadn’t gotten any intel on the target’s captives, recon was why they were here. But, Harpies as a species were rare, and reclusive. Even photos were rare, and that was for females.

The avian walked stiffly, his talons working hard to not score the floor, the leathery pads of his fore-toes barely touching the polished wood. His broad shoulders were scarred and bruised, muscles bunched and twitching as his wings brushed against stray chairs.

She let some of her instinct take over, assessing the other predator for danger. What she saw made her hurt instead. Patchy wings flared as he knelt, revealing crooked bones and malnourished muscles that shook with strain.

Male harpies were supposed to be extremely dangerous, but he looked so small, so young. The Harpy looked at the man holding his leash worshipfully, eyes glazed and heavy, skeletal wrists bound in what amounted to tight leather mittens.

Worse was the muzzle strapped to his face, metal bit behind his fangs, forcing him to bare his teeth in a snarl that showed the inch long incisors. Like Lachlan was trying to make him seem more dangerous than he obviously was.

“Well well well, who have you found, Ingrid?” Lachlan’s voice was oily, and she could feel Emric tense beside her as he took the brunt of the scrutiny from the newcomer.

Ingrid smiled, dragging a nail across Emric’s chin. “Oh love, we hadn’t gotten that far yet. We were distracted by other matters.”

Emric smiled back, licking his lip as he turned from Ingrid’s eyes to meet the hosts. “Roland Moore, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mister—?”

“Oh, this is a party, Roland, please, call me Lachlan.” The man held out a broad hand, and she heard Emric suppress a wince when it clamped around his own.

“I remember sending you an invitation, your work in exotics has certainly made an impression on the customers I work with. I do hope you’re enjoying yourself.” A smirk spread across his face as he assess Emric.

“I’d say we were enjoying ourselves immensely, love, before you interrupted.” Ingrid was glaring fondly at her friend, hand resting lightly on Emrics forearm. Anoria felt her hackles start to rise, and she stopped herself from biting the hand resting too close to her.

Grinning, Lachlan rolled his eyes. “Please dear, you’ll have plenty of time later, let me socialize with my guests. I was going to ask Roland about his pet.”

Turning from the redhead, he studied the caracal closely, making her skin prickle uneasily, it felt like he looked through her. “It seems you brought something of your own to this celebration of the strange.” Lachlan moved forward to stroke her fur, and she hissed, swiping at his hand. The man laughed, pulling the hand back to settle on the harpy’s head. The harpy leaned into the touch, trilling softly. “Still feisty isn’t it? Is it a new acquisition?”

Chuckling, Emric carded a hand through the fur on her ears. “She’s just got a spirit I can’t seem to tame, she’s particular. You don’t have that problem?”

Ingrid settled into the couch with a huff, muttering about hobbies, as Lachlan smiled broadly at Emric.

Gripping the harpy’s hair tightly, Lachlan pulled on the tangled hair until his head was tilted back, wings fluttering fitfully. “You just need the right touch, the right motivation, and you can get them to do anything. I have a few new acquisitions I could teach you with, if you want?”

Nausea clawed at her stomach, and she felt Emric stiffen beside her, arm deceptively loose where it rested along the couch behind Ingrid. “Why don’t you tell me about the process and then we can schedule a time? I’d love to watch you work.”

It was exactly the invitation they had needed.

Master’s hand retracted, and he shivered as it left, the room suddenly too close, too loud. He churred, letting his heavy eyes open as the human’s hand fell to the wing closest to him.

“First you need to understand the creature you’re training, what motivates them as a species. It’s easier if you start young, of course, my pretty boy here was hardly more than a hatchling when we found him.” Master’s hand sank into his feathers, gripping the bone tightly as he stood, pulling the crooked wing until it was fully stretched. He cried quietly as the position pulled on the tendon, unused to it being fully flared. His harsh panting stopped after a moment, the sharp pain fading to an ache.

The human that Master had been talking to grimaced as his eyes roamed over his wing, how far Master had to stretch to make it fully extend. “Those look painful, did you find him like that?”

“Found him screeching on the forest floor. Poor thing’s wings were broken. We think its flock abandoned it to die, especially since harpy’s tend to guard their males closely.” He remembered differently, but it didn’t matter. Master was right, Master took care of him now.

Master continued the story he told many of the other humans, stroking his feathers reverently, teasing the feathers apart as he did his best to hold the wing out with weak muscles. As the wing was released, he groaned around the metal bit, pulling the shaking appendage back to his back.

“Of course, we tried to rehabilitate him, but unfortunately, his wings were just beyond repair. So we trained him, which wasn’t easy mind you. Harpy’s are predators first, and built like it.” Master sat, slowly trailing his fingers down his arm, massaging his wrist lightly before unbuckling one of his hands, splaying his fingers and rubbing at the talons.

“We think they climb using their talons, and they hunt big game according to the corpses we found, but we weren’t able to get any footage of them actually hunting.” He shivered as Master turned his hand, massaging his palm, making his fingers curl to show his talons more effectively. He sank into the touch, leaning his head against his Master’s arm.

“But, if you didn’t get footage, how are you sure it’s them? I’m sure there’s other large predators in their forest.” The other human leaned forward, and the collared cat startled him as it leapt from the humans lap to the floor in front of him, hissing.

He hissed back, barely raising his head as the other human male tensed, half-rising before Master gestured for him to sit down. His Master gripped his neck tightly, forcing his head back to where it had rested against him. “Settle down, lovely, you were doing so well.” He trilled, rubbing his face against his Master apologetically.

“Anyway, that’s the fascinating thing, some of the game had been killed by impact, like with eagles, but others had venom in their systems.” Buckling his hand back into the jess, Master stroked his hair, murmuring praise as he fiddled with the straps of his muzzle. “Good boy, being so good....”

His heart swelled at the praise, warmth settling around him like a blanket as the metal bit slid from between his teeth, a large hand squeezing the back of his neck.

“When we found him we were able to make the link between the venom and the harpies we’d been seeing.” He shuddered as Master squeezed his neck, forcing his head to go lax and tilt backwards. The fingers rubbed circles into the muscles, pushing against the venom glands in his neck, stimulating them. Tears sprang to his eyes, and he whined as fingers forced their way in between his parted lips. Hooking on his teeth before shoving his jaw down.

“The venom acts as a potent paralytic, and they seem to gain pleasure from injecting the venom into their kill.” Master’s fingers pushed on the gland in his neck again, turning the fingers in his mouth to press against the roof of his mouth, hitting the venom glands behind his fangs. He clenched his eyes shut, jaw clenching as his tongue pressed against his Master’s salty fingers.

He moaned, breathing raggedly as he fought the urge to bite down, tears streaming down his face from the conflicting signals in his brain. Master dragged the pads of his fingers across his tongue slowly as he retracted them from his mouth, breath hitching as his tail curled around his thigh.

A childlike sob made his chest spasm as he caught his breath, the head rush from having the venom glands stimulated without true relief making him dizzy. He peeled his eyes opened, Master’s hand the only thing keeping him upright as he tried to regain his balance.

“That’s fascinating, I’ve never seen anything like him, do you mind if I—?” The smaller male held a hand forward, showing his empty palm. The lights pierced his eyes as he tried to focus on the human’s hand, taking in every movement at once.

“Please, be my guest.”

The large cat hissed as her master approached him, and he hiccuped clenching his teeth around his reflexive response. His wings flared as the man’s hand touched his wing, preparing for pain.

He’s going to pull, he’s going to pull on his feathers to make sure he isn’t fake, and he’ll stick his fingers in his mouth, he’ll poke at his eyes to play with his clear lid for flying, and his touch is going to hurt, it’s going to bruise and he’s going to bleed.

He didn’t realize he was screeching until Master struck him. Pain exploded in his face and wings as he crumpled to the ground, blood dripping to the floor. Master’s thunderous face appeared above him, wrath written in every line of his body. He keened, curling into the smallest ball he could manage.

“Well, it seems to me, Roland, that we may have found the acquisition you can learn on. How’s Thursday sound?”

He didn’t hear the reply as Master’s servants drug him away.

#avian whumpee #whump #my ocs #creepy whumper #wings #noncon elements #muzzle #venom #undercover #the plot thickens #shapeshifter

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camachameleon · 6 years

Text

Cam’s Voltron Fic Rec 3/∞

VLD Rec Lists: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] Here’s a Fic Masterlist for my other fandoms. ( ** = favorites )

**Recoil/Release by Cheshyr

Word count: 22,387 (13/13)

Summary: When Keith is bitten by an alien creature with venom that causes your dominant emotions to be amplified, the team is ready for a day of dealing with an incredibly angry paladin.

Which means they’re not ready at all for what actually happens.

Comments: The almost stream-of-consciousness writing of Keith’s parts are really gut-wrenching because it’s as if you are experiencing it with him. (Warning for panic attacks- if you are triggered at all by that sort of thing you may want to sit this one out, it gets pretty graphic). A couple good song pairings for this fic to set the tone are Broken Crown and World Gone Mad.

**Synergy by Kokochan & Spanch

Word count: 74,064 (10/10)

Summary: The vines were large, stiff, gnarly, and thick-stemmed, with blue leaves as big and round as dinner plates, but Shiro’s battle-arm was able to sever several long straggles with ease. The vines draped easily enough over the shuttle and hid it quite handily from view. “Good enough, I suppose,” Shiro said, glaring at the empty greenish-blue sky. “Come on, let’s… Hunk? What’s the matter?”

Hunk was staring at something behind him. “Shiro, don’t make any sudden moves just now, but there’s a really big lizard thing standing right behind you. Um. Two of them.”

Surprised, Shiro turned, albeit carefully. He’d never even heard them approach. That was rather impressive, considering the size of the beasts. It was as though someone had taken a pair of Arizonan horned lizards and rebuilt them more on the lines of a tiger without leaving out any of the spikes, then expanded them to about the size of an Indian elephant and added six large, intelligent blue eyes. Understandably, Shiro froze in place.

Comments: OH. MY. GOSH. OK. SO. This bad boy is Part 1 of 3, so far, with a total series word count of 241,404 at the moment. This beautiful titan of a series is named Of The Pack, and it updates with great speed, considering it has two top tier authors working on it. The several OCs in this story are so lifelike and realistic and fit so well into the universe that I forget that they aren’t actually canon and I kind of miss them when I’m reading other Voltron fics. My favorite part is the world-building it does. Everything about this fic is so dynamic and multi-dimensional, from it’s characters to the epic plot - this is the exact opposite of lazy writing. I am so here for badass Pidge, and the matriarchal Galra culture and the dragons. I👏LOVE👏THIS👏FIC👏

Also there’s magic! (with a scientific explanation, of course)

A cool song that I think goes nice with this fic is Heroes by Måns Zelmerlöw.

The Kids Are Alright by pugglemuggle

Word count: 10,430 (3/3)

Summary: Three Garrison Cadets Missing After Freak Satellite Crash

By Mara Garrett, News Editor | The Guardian | Monday, June 13, 2103 7:40 A.M. ET

Two seventeen-year-olds and a fifteen-year-old went missing Friday night after a rogue satellite crashed into the desert a few miles away from the Galaxy Garrison Training Facility, reports say. Garrison officials were quick to cordon off the area, claiming many of the remaining satellite fragments were dangerous and unstable. Government search parties have been sent out into the surrounding desert areas. Details are forthcoming.

—

Her brother is missing. Lance’s sister isn’t about to sit quietly while the Garrison keeps lying to the press. No—she’s going to get to the bottom of this.

(Or: The paladins’ families team up to find their kids and overthrow the corrupt Garrison regime. Told through news articles, prose, the internet, and art.)

Comments: The format of this is very intriguing and fresh. We get to see scenes of our favorite paladins through the eyes of their friends and families, from before they disappeared and the aftermath. The open ending is still satisfying and leaves you with a sense of determination and hope for these characters that you just couldn’t help but get attached to. If you’re big on government conspiracies then this is the fic for you!

**Patty Cake by Froldgapp

Word count: 7,829 (6/6)

Summary: Quiet, aloof, and alone, Keith is distant from the rest of the team. Hunk begins to suspect why, and it’s only when the red paladin pushes himself too far, the Voltron gang realise he’s just as vulnerable as the rest of them.

Comments: Aaaaahhh this fic. Something about this one has me coming back to reread it all the time even though I always cry. It is just so angsty but in a more poignant, sharp, breathless kind of way. Some of the things the characters say send painful stinging jolts into your chest and you can feel your heart cracking and then you get angry because how dare (I mean ch4 tho holy sh*t). I just want to hug Keith so much ugh. Hunk’s protectiveness of Keith gives me the strength to finish this masterpiece every time. Also, this can kind of be Sheith if you squint (or not, if you don’t).

The Message by Shipstiel

Word count: 132,787 (45/45)

Summary: (4:07) okay, but considr this, and hear me out here (4:08) so like, a photobooth u can do with ur pets like there’ll be lil costumes that u can dress them up in, and u can do liek, period costumes and shit with them (4:09) omg, can u imagine, u and ur cat/dog, and theyre in a lil 1800s dress and one of those lace umbrella things omg so cute

(4:15) Why the FUCK are you texting me at four in the morning with this

—

Keith is texted by accident by some idiot one day, and honestly he’s not even sure why he responds. Or why he keeps responding. Yet somehow he finds himself drawn in, and okay, so maybe this fool is mildly entertaining after all. Who would’ve thought.

Comments: Slowburn Klance Wrong Number AU. These two are so cute I just can’t. This is the perfect story if you are looking for something effortless and relaxing to read. Even though this contains some softcore Langst, it is still a very cute and heartwarming story about two dorks slowly falling in love. It features Lance’s mother who I fell in love with here, and the kind of supportive nosy best friends that everyone wants in real life (i.e. Hunk, Pidge, and Allura).

**The Quiet by MilkTeaMiku

Word count: 66,700 (32/32)

Summary: Does he not realize he’s dead?

Keith can see ghosts. As a part of his Garrison training, he’s sent to a hospital to do one year of medical clerkship - it’s there that he meets a charmingly irritating chose who definitely needs to learn what boundaries are.

Comments: Modern Ghost AU with eventual Klance. This fic is the most suspenseful story I have ever read in my life. Idk if it’s just me, but I just have this feeling building up paragraph by paragraph of an impending… something. And it has my heart racing which is crazy because it isn’t even particularly fast-paced. There’s just a heaviness to the words that have the hairs on the back of your neck prickling. I literally have to take a breather from reading sometimes to calm down.

A couple cool songs I think set the mood for this fic is Smother and Mirror.

Finding Home by spacegaykogane

Word count: 26,966 (6/6)

Summary: After the wormhole collapses, Keith finds himself stranded on a strange planet. Alone. Until Lance comes along. With their lions dead and resources limited, Keith and Lance need to put aside their differences and work together to get home. Wherever that may be, now.

Comments: Klance. I love Stranded fics where they have to work together to survive and bond over that. So yeah this one has some whump obviously, bc you know, crash landings aren’t very fun. This one is angsty but its balanced out by the fluffiness in the end.

Cuddle Puddle by nothingwrongwiththerain

Word count: 46,782 (6/6)

Summary: Unexpectedly, Shiro’s hand landed on the top of his head. Apparently with Lance and Hunk taking up all the shoulder real estate, Shiro would settle for ruffling Keith’s hair.

Keith was fairly certain his soul was about to detach and abandon his shaking body on the couch. He was surrounded, in the complete and total sense of the word, by other people. Not once before, not in his whole life, had he dealt with a situation like this one.

Or, five times Keith found himself too close for comfort and one time he couldn't get close enough.

Comments: Klance featuring ace!Keith. Don’t be fooled by the fluffy summary, this is a very angsty fic with lots of Keith whump. Basically, as stated by the author, this story is about ‘Keith struggling with physical contact and learning to accept people care about him’. I love touch-starved Keith stories, like this one. I love the scenes with Kidge bros, featuring a super supportive Pidge.

At the Beginning by Sakuraiai

Word count: 64,203 (12/12)

Summary: Inspired by Anastasia

King Zarkon of the Galra empire lost his only way in to the Kingdom of Altea. In his anger, he put a curse on the royal family. The young, adopted half Galran prince Keith disappeared when the palace was overrun, never to be seen again -- or so it seemed. The only surviving princess, Allura, grieving for her child, offers a reward for Keith's safe return.

Con artists, Lance and his best friend, Hunk plan to pawn off a phony to the princess, hoping to reap the rewards. They hold auditions and choose an orphan man who has a remarkable resemblance to the missing prince -- all the way down to his fluffy Galran ears.

Comments: Can anyone say Anastasia AU?! I waited with baited breath for each chapter to come out and I was not once disappointed. I love the integration of the different alien races in this timeless story, it all works out so well. Keith just wants to find his mommy and I just want to cry. Also Kidge bros are still my fav as always.

out of orbit by rbillustration

Word count: 78,135 (19/19)

Summary: Dragged apart by Haggar’s attack on the wormhole, the paladins and Alteans struggle to survive and find one another again. Luck has placed them all within the same galaxy… but their fortune ends there. Lance is stranded with a badly-injured Shiro and his relief at finding their leader still accompanying him soon turns to terror. Keith may be the only who can rectify the situation - but the Galra have him in their grasp, and they don’t want to kill him. They want him as one of their own.

Comments: ANGST. SO MUCH ANGST. A brainwashed Galra!Keith plus a Possessed!Shiro. This is the perfect recipe for disaster if I ever saw one. If lots of blood bothers you proceed with caution. I love stranded fics.

A good song rec for this one is Darkside.

VLD Rec Lists: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] Here’s a Fic Masterlist for my other fandoms.

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