#magical whumper

[ohwrite]

Healer whumper who’s power can be used for torture, healing usually fatal wounds in minutes just to do it again once the wound healed over

#magic whump #whump #magical whumper #healer whumper #superpower whump

[painsandconfusion]

Whumpee was taken by a magical whumper. They were shackled in an obedience spell fo the longest time, but when caretaker broke them out and broke the spell, things snapped mack to normal for the most part.

When caretaker accidentally stumbles on the trigger word for their hypnosis-based obedience, whumpee snaps right back to it, glassy eyed and headed for the door.

Off to find whumper again.

#idk have a prompt #hypnosis #magical whumper #hypnosis whump #magical whump #reconditioning #conditioned whumpee #not exactly but its gonna hit the same triggers for blockign purpouses

[redd956]

Poisonous/Venomous Whumper

Poor Whumpee they have ended with a whumper is poisonous (to the touch)(actually venomous)(acidic saliva).

Whumper’s kiss causes a terrible poisonous reaction or sickness, but does not kill because it isn’t a high enough dosage

If Whumper ever worries that Whumpee is going to leave or escape they poison them, since a bedridden whumpee isn’t an escaping one

Whumpee fought whumper. They boasting and confident how unscathed they were, and how they absolutely beat Whumper’s ass. Whumper limped away snickering despite their defeat, for their blood is poisonous and Whumpee would require them in order to create an antidote.

Whumper’s poison is paralyzing or sedating

Caretaker is taking care of a Whumpee who is seems inexplicably sick, and unable to communicate their source, until one day they meekly only say Whumper’s name

Whumper bit Whumpee during a fight and skittered away. Whumpee was understandably confused by that action of all things, but has they stared in the mirror later, they couldn’t help but notice their paling complexion.

Whumper and Whumpee walking. Whumpee feeling increasingly sicker finally collapses only for Whumper to graciously catch them. Neither were seen again.

Whumpee is terrified of being poisoned. Whumper only needs to threaten them to remain control over them.

#whumper #whump #whump ideas #whump prompts #poisonous whumper #venomous whumper #nonhuman whumper #magical whumper #poison whump #cw poison #cw drugging #cw poisoning #cw venom

[dont-be-gentle-please]

Vampire whumper who acts upon the urge to bite, squeeze and kill something cute (whumpee).

#whump prompt #vampire whump #vampire whumper #magical whumper #magical whump #don't be gentle please

[hurtmyfavsthanks]

I believe that we as a community need to talk more about shape shifting Whumpers.

The versatility. Whumpers that transform into different animals to hurt Whumpee with. A tarantula to terrify a arachnophobic whumpee, a cobra to coil around their neck and bite down, a wolf to hunt them down to escape. 

Plus, there’s nothing stopping them from shifting into different people. Whumpers that trick their whumpee into thinking they've been rescued. Whumpers that transform into Caretaker, who unlock Whumpee's restraints and hold them while they sob in relief, only to transform back and laugh at their horrified face. Of course, the punishment for attempting to escape comes next. 

Whumpers who always put on the face of Whumpee’s loved ones before entering the cell. 

They get a sick satisfaction from the way Whumpee looks away, the way Whumpee seems to cry just a little bit harder when they do. They make Whumpee look, because they want Whumpee to see Caretaker’s face and instinctually pull away. 

And it works. Whumpee knows it’s Whumper doing all those horrible things, they know that Caretaker would never hurt them. But it’s Caretaker’s face they see in their nightmares, cruel and mocking. It makes them sick. Whumpee becomes afraid of Caretaker and they hate themselves for it.

When help finally comes, Whumpee has no way to know. They refuse to fall for the same trick again, so they fight and resist against rescue, ultimately forcing Caretaker to restrain them. 

Even after they escape, Whumpee knows Whumper could be anywhere and anyone. They would never be able to let their guard down, never trust that the friend standing before them is really who they claim to be. They’d never be able to fully trust anyone.

#whumpee #whumper #magical whumper #caretaker #paranoid whumpee #my stuff

[whump-softie]

Magical Whumper who gives medallions to his Whumpees. They all think that it’s a gift, or a different kind of collar. “Here’s a medallion to show that you’re mine.”

Magical Whumper is known for being immortal, especially when he fights in underground magical duels. He’s unbeatable, essentially immortal, even though immortality is impossible, even with magic. No one can defeat death.

But, everytime he “dies,” Death will take an exchange of life instead. Magical user will be spared, as long as another life is taken in his place. And one of the owners of his medallions will do nicely. One exchange, one medallion.

Whumpee’s drop dead for seemingly unknown reasons when Magical Whumper is away, they don’t know why. They don’t connect it to the medallions until it’s too late. A mark of a life that Death can take instead.

“Instead of me, Sir Death, take one from any of my medallion owners. Their life is yours, take your pick.”

Death doesn’t mind. Death can finally choose, after all. Death can choose from the medallion owners, can choose who Death feels is ready, instead of following Fate’s design. Death doesn’t mind one bit. Dare Death even say he appreciates Whumper for finally giving him a choice.

#magical Whumper #whump #death #whumpee #whump drabble #exchange of life #whump idea

[cassicuterat]

Rude Awakening

cw: death mentions, threat of death / bone breaking / myiasis

He wakes as if drenched in ice-cold water.

His body lurches forward, leaving his mind behind for just a moment before it races to catch up with his bodily reaction to revival. His chest is heaving, and his eyes are wet, yet no sound escapes his mouth as his body fights to express its shock.

'Welcome back.' Alethea's voice is monotone, almost bored, and she watches him with icelike eyes, monitoring his reaction to the reawakening. 'Any luck?' If she's at all concerned by his flushed skin or the trembling of his entire body, she doesn't show it.

'No.' His jaw clenches suddenly, and he's struck with a sudden burst of insolence. 'There never is, and there never will be, because-'

Her knife is pressed to his throat once more, still sticky with his blood, and he swallows against it, falling silent once again. Alethea doesn't speak yet, only pressing the edge of the knife slightly further as her cold eyes meet his.

'You should be very careful with what you say to me.' Her breath is cold on his skin, still slightly blue-tinged and numb. 'I will not hesitate to kill you again, break every single bone in your corpse, and let it rot until it is more maggot than human.' The knife twists slightly, and a small run of blood pools in his collarbone. 'Then I'll bring you back, but only to keep you just alive enough to feel the pain. You will be a broken shell of a man, and you will wish that I granted you the mercy of being able to writhe in your agony.'

The silence stretches between them, only punctuated by the grinding breaths forcing their way through his chest. She doesn't blink, even as he twists under her blade, looks for a way to peel himself from the stone table he finds himself pressed against, tries to still the quivering of his jaw.

'No,' he finally says, barely more than a whisper. 'No luck yet.' The blade leaves his throat, and he exhales a shaky sigh as Alethea's black boots leave his field of vision.

'Better.' She watches him bring his knees to his chest, pulling his body together in an attempt to do the same for his mind. The reawakening takes a toll on the mind; it always will, but she contemplates the effects of repeated awakenings on the consciousness for a moment. Seeing him wrap shaking arms around a paper-delicate torso, she wonders to herself if he will survive the next awakening.

The irony is not lost on her; dying in a revival is nothing short of comic, but she is aware that his mind is fragile now, and that what comes back the next time may not be him at all.

If that happens, she can always find a new subject.

It does intrigue her to ponder if others would react so well to dancing so close to the touch of death. If she were to have to find another subject, would they crumble in the first reawakening? She doesn't know, and doesn't care to find out yet: he is still of use to her, and she doesn't need to consider what will happen when he isn't until the situation arises.

She leaves the room to return to her piles of notes, and hears Servius let out a shuddering sigh as the door closes.

#whump #captivity whump #magical whumper #magic whump #whump writer #whumblr #i have so many ideas for this series but i also have exams so we'll see if i manage to write more

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

It's Magic

This snippet is for @creweemmaeec11!

-------

Villain pressed the knife deeper into Hero's side, the blade glowing with harmful magic.

"Pathetic little thing," Villain laughed, yanking the blade out.

Hero gasped, lurching forward. They crashed down in the alleyway.

"Lesser beings like you should learn to stay out of my way," Villain said, "maybe your corpse will serve as an example."

Villain cast a spell, causing little cuts to open all over Hero's body. Hero whimpered in pain. They looked up with blurry vision as Villain strode away. Was this really how it was going to end? Killed by a magic user? Hero didn't have the energy to worry about it; they started to drift off, their head light and their limbs heavy.

----

Hero stirred to the feeling of a gentle rocking sensation.

"Mm..." they mumbled.

"Shhh," a voice soothed.

The rocking sensation stopped suddenly as Hero was laid down on a soft surface. They forced their eyes to open. They tried to sit up, but a hand gently pushed them back down.

"Don't-" the voice said softly, "don't get up. You're hurt."

Hero stared up at their rescuer. Their vision cleared, and their face went pale. Hero scuttled back on the couch.

"S-Supervillain," Hero breathed.

Hero's breaths quickened, coming out in short little gasps. Their heart felt like it was going to beat out of their chest. Supervillain held their hands up in a placating gesture.

"I'm not gonna hurt you," they said, "I promise."

Supervillain took a step closer, and Hero flinched hard, screwing their eyes shut. Instead of a harsh strike or a dark spell, Hero felt the gentle pressure of a hand on their forehead. They cracked an eye open and looked at Supervillain.

"No fever, that's good," Supervillain said.

Soft green light emanated from Supervillain's hands. Hero's breathing became deep of its own accord. Hero blinked in confusion.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Hero asked.

"It's a calming spell," Supervillain explained, "I don't want you to panic."

Supervillain gestured to Hero's shirt.

"May I?" they asked.

Hero felt themselves nodding, a forced calm settling over them. Supervillain thanked them and lifted their shirt.

"It seems to be healing well," Supervillain said, "my magic made short work of your cuts, but this stab wound was pretty bad."

"Magic?"

"Yes, my healing magic. You're lucky to be alive, if I hadn't found you... well, it doesn't matter now."

Normally the mention of magic would have Hero hyperventilating, but the calming spell was weaving its way through their mind and body, keeping them pacified.

"Let me work on your wound some more, you don't deserve a scar."

Magenta light flowed from Supervillain's hands into Hero's healing wound. The area began to feel warm and fuzzy. Hero watched as the wound faded away completely, leaving nothing but smooth, undamaged skin.

"Can I get you anything?" Supervillain asked.

"I, um..."

"How about something to eat and drink?" Supervillain offered.

Hero quickly shook their head. What if they poisoned it? Then again, Supervillain probably wouldn't go through the trouble to save them just to poison them... on the other hand, though, this was Supervillain they were talking about, and-

A floating tray of food interrupted Hero's thoughts. On the tray was a bowl of chili and a cup of water. Supervillain ushered the tray over with a finger. It settled a few inches over Hero.

"It's, uh, it's waiting for you to sit up," Supervillain said.

Hero sat up cautiously. The tray, satisfied, landed gently on Hero's lap. The spoon flew into Hero's hand. Hero yelped in surprise.

"Yes, that particular spoon is rather forward," Supervillain said apologetically, "you'll get used to it."

Hero gulped. What would happen if they didn't eat? Would Supervillain kill them in a harsher way? The spoon, growing impatient, zipped out of Hero's hand, filled itself with a helping of chili, and forced its way into their mouth.

"Mm!"

Flavors danced on Hero's tongue; the chili was absolutely delicious. The spoon left Hero's mouth and grabbed another helping of chili. It waited for Hero to swallow.

"I wouldn't poison you, if that's what you're worried about," Supervillain said, "I went through a bit of trouble to save you."

Hero swallowed hesitantly. The spoon eagerly shoved the next bite of chili into their mouth. Hero grabbed the spoon and started to feed themselves. Supervillain smiled.

"Why... why did you save me?" Hero asked.

Supervillain's smile faltered, replaced with a concerned expression.

"I couldn't just leave you there," Supervillain said.

"Yes you could've! You're Supervillain! You're the most powerful mage in the city, and I'm..."

"Yes?" Supervillain prompted.

"I fight mages! I'm your enemy!" Hero blurted.

Supervillain sighed. They waved a hand and an armchair tottered forward. Supervillain sat down, snapping their fingers. A cup of tea materialized out of thin air. Supervillain took a sip of it, then set it on the saucer, which was still floating nearby.

"Why do you fight mages?" Supervillain asked, as though Hero had come in for a therapy session.

"Because they use magic! And magic is- well, it's evil isn't it?"

"Look around you," Supervillain gestured to the room, "I've been using magic nonstop since I brought you here. Have I been using it for evil?"

Hero didn't respond.

"I've done nothing but heal you and tend to you with my powers," Supervillain continued, "what I want is for magic users and non-magic users to get along and enjoy each other's gifts. Of course, not everyone shares my sentiment, such as the mage who attacked you."

Hero shook their head, trying to rationalize Supervillain's words. Supervillain sighed again and stood. The tray floated away with the empty chili bowl. The spoon followed it back to the kitchen.

"You should get some rest," Supervillain said, summoning a blanket, which draped itself over Hero, "let me know if you need anything."

Supervillain began to leave.

"Wait!" Hero said weakly.

Supervillain turned.

"Yes?"

"Thank you, Supervillain," Hero said quietly.

Supervillain cracked a small smile.

"You're welcome..."

"Hero," Hero said, "my name is Hero."

"You're welcome, Hero."

Supervillain flicked their wrist, and the lights went out. They left the room to let Hero sleep. Hero snuggled under the blanket and closed their eyes. They were still very confused about many things, but maybe magic wasn't as evil as they had thought.

Ko-fi

Tags: @mythixmagic @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived @princessofonwardsworld  @surplus-of-sarcasm

#hero x villain #writeblr #writing #creative writing #whump #hurt/comfort #hero whumpee #villain whumper #supervillain caretaker #hero x villain writing #hero x supervillain #hero x villain community #heroes and villains #magic #nonmagic hero #magic supervillain #mage #stabbing #magic healing #caretaking

[abhainnwhump]

Whumpee is fighting Whumper with a group of their friends. Whumpee and Whumper fight one on one and Whumper pins Whumpee down. They don't understand what is happening at first, but then Whumper pushes their palm against Whumpee's head. It starts with burning, then screaming, then the world goes dark. Whumper removes their hand and Whumpee has a mind control rune on their forehead.

"Stand up." Whumpee obeys Whumper's command. With a snap of their fingers, Whumper points to Whumpee's friends. "Kill them."

#whump #whumpblr #whump writing #whump prompt #whump tropes #noncon body modification #mind control whump #whumpee turned whumper #multiple whumpees #hero whumpee #villain whumper #magic whump #fantasy whump

[whumperofworlds]

A Whumper who uses a spell to force Whumpee to relive a past trauma.

Whumpee having a panic attack as they're witnessing the trauma once more while Caretaker tries to help them.

BONUS: Whumpee never told anyone, not even Caretaker, about their trauma, so them freaking out confused and scared Caretaker because they had no idea what was going on with Whumpee.

#whump #whump prompt #magic whump #whumper #whumpee #caretaker #trauma #panic attack

[letitbehurt]

Whumpees with some sort of magical power, but that power being controlled entirely by Whumper.

#the agony of having the strength to be free of Whumpee #but that fucking curse carved into their skin that keeps them from harming the only person they’ve ever truly wanted to harm #or a magical contract they can’t burn #magic-dampening restraints they can’t remove #magic that is a part of whumpee being cut off or siphoned at Whumper’s every whim #magic Whump #whump

[ohwrite]

Magic Whumper who’s presence causes paralysis to those around them, and slowly begins killing those affected

#may or may not be inspired by slay the princess #magic whump #magical Whumper #magic Whumper #whump #whump idea

[shshshquietnow]

I'm a big fan of angels and demons in whump, especially angel whumpees with demon whumpers. A demon obsessed with getting this divine perfection to break, and an angel having to stare in the face of something they've been told horror stories of since childhood.

But something I don't see used a lot is FALLEN angel whumpees, which I think have a lot to use. No one's coming for them, maybe they're weaker than before, they've been forsaken, they're maybe a bit spunkier, maybe already a little broken... they're great material to mold and mesh.

Or even fallen angel WHUMPERS, ones with nothing to lose, bitter and hurt... fallen angels walk around, showing the world with just their wings they've done something to piss off the heavens. Who WOULDNT be scared being taken caprice by one?!

#whump #quiet whispering #fantasy whump #whumper #whumpee #magic whumpee #magic whumper #angel whumpee #demon whumper #fallen angel whumpee #fallen angel whumper

[redd956]

Whump Prompt 16

This is a small one

Whump Prompt (violence)

Whumpee comes home one day to be greeted by their lovely caretaker like normal. The two embrace, Whumpee grinning with satisfaction, feeling Caretaker’s warmth. Then suddenly a sharp pain shot from their side, and Caretaker aggressively brought Whumpee closer, increasing the strong sting.

Whumpee tried to push off of Caretaker, exclaiming that something was wrong. They caught a glimpse downwards to see Caretaker’s hand clutched tightly around the handle to blade. They looked up filling with despair and betrayal, until they remembered that their long dead Whumper was a shapeshifter.

#whump #betrayal whump #betrayed whumpee #whumpee x caretaker #whump prompt #short whump prompt #nonhuman whumper #magical whumper

[oliversrarebooks]

Fitz's Volunteer Part One: The Act

In which a vaudeville fan volunteers for Phantom Fitz's show, ready to play along with some fake hypnosis tricks. Because magic isn't real. Right?

Masterlist

November 1923

TW: mind control, hypnotic induction, mild humiliation, extremely self indulgent

You've always loved going to the vaudevillle. The songs and sketches, the dancers and acrobats, the comedians and the dramatic actors. It's such a good way to take your mind off your troubles -- of which you unfortunately have many -- for just a few hours and relax.

"...and that was the Astounding Flying Lloyd sisters! Give 'em a hand, folks!" said the announcer. "Up next is the mysterious and charming magician and mesmerist Phantom Fitz!"

You've seen this act before, and it was fun and very interesting. He calls up a volunteer from the audience and hypnotizes them into assisting his routine, teasing them and giving them mildly embarrassing bits of business to do. You know it's either a plant or someone told to play along, of course -- you're no gullible rube who believes in magic.

Still, it seems like it must be fun to be led around the stage, pretending to be in a hypnotic trance. It doesn't hurt that he's easy to look at, with a slightly wicked smile and a cheeky sparkle in his eye. What's the harm in being a bit of a fan of a vaudeville performer, after all?

"Now, I'm going to need a willing assistant from the audience to demonstrate my mesmeric power on!" he declares with a flourish of his cape. "Who would like to find themselves completely and helplessly under my power? Don't be shy. I promise I don't bite, unless you want me to." He gave a big wink to the audience.

Hands go up all over, and you briefly consider raising yours. But you'd be too shy to actually go up on stage and do those things, if you were even chosen to begin with. Fitz is scanning the crowd, probably looking for his plant.

But then his eyes stop right on you. He smiles.

Does he want you to volunteer? Why you?

You're curious now. Before you can think twice, your hand raises.

His smile gets much bigger. "You, there," he says, pointing. "Don't be shy, you're perfect for this. You're going to be a natural at following my instructions. I can tell." He beckons you forward, and with all eyes on you, you leave your seat and walk up the stairs onto the stage. As soon as you step up, he takes your hand. His own hand is freezing cold, but something about it feels oddly reassuring, putting you at ease, making it easier to block out the presence of the crowd.

"Thank you for volunteering," he says. That wicked grin is even brighter now that you're close to him. "What's your name?"

You tell him.

"That's a lovely name. Shame you won't be needing it for this performance," he says, leaving you wonder what that means. He reaches behind your ear. "Oh, you have something stuck in your ear, hang on." 

He's pretending to pull out colorful scarves, one after another, and you're pretty sure they must be coming out of his sleeves, but his fingers are so fast and nimble that you can't even quite tell when you're this close. "Not to embarrass you, but perhaps you should wash behind your ears better," he says, as a rainbow of scarves pools at your feet. The crowd is laughing.

You're not sure how to react, and before you can really say anything, he's pulled the scarves away and is leading you over to a chair center stage. "And now, if you don't mind having a seat, we can get down to the important business of molding you into the perfect assistant for me."

"All right," you say nervously, not sure what you're supposed to do. You had assumed this was a plant. Are you going to have to play-act being hypnotized? You've never been very good at acting, and you're worried you might spoil the act.

"Now don't you fret," he says, standing behind the chair and placing a soft hand on top of your head. "No one is able to resist my mesmeric powers for long. All you need to do is sit back and relax." He leans in closer, and you assume he's going to whisper instructions. Instead, he says, "Do you mind if I touch you like this? I need to keep your head steady in case you start to doze off."

"...No?" you say, surprised. Does he actually think you're going to fall asleep, that his hypnosis will work in truth?

"Good," he says, and produces a heavy brass pocketwatch, which he dangles in front of your face. It's finely made with a pretty face, and it ticks softly and rhythmically as he swings it back and forth before your eyes. "Now just watch the pretty pocketwatch, dear," he says. "Keep your eyes focused as it swings back and forth, back and forth. Focus on nothing else but the watch and my voice."

Wanting to do your best, you let your eyes follow the watch, and you feel something strange, starting at the top of your head where Fitz is holding his hand. It feels warm. Relaxing. Dizzying. Almost like sinking into a warm bath.

"Yes, that's right, you're doing so well," he encourages. "I knew you'd be so good at this. You're already starting to get sleepy, aren't you? So sleepy and drowsy. That's my mesmeric power starting to work on you, dear."

Of course, you're not actually going to start falling asleep on stage in front of an entire audience just because of a pocketwatch and a few honeyed words...

Of course you're not...

"That's it. Such a good assistant. Every swing of the watch making you sleepier and sleepier. So drowsy. So relaxed, so tired, such heavy eyelids..."

You shake yourself out of the daze you're falling into. What's happening? It has to be your imagination, but you actually do feel sleepy. You can't tear your eyes away from the watch, and it feels like Fitz's commands are sinking deep into your mind. This can't actually be working on you, can it?

"You're just so tired and drowsy, tired and sleepy. Your eyelids are so heavy, drifting shut, like they want to stay closed... getting sleepier and sleepier..." The hand on top of your head gently strokes your hair, and the drowsy daze intensifies, your head drooping forward before you catch yourself. "You're so drowsy that you're starting to fall asleep, dear."

It's hard to think through the haze. You can't see the audience very well past the heavy, swinging watch, but your mind is trying to alert you to the fact that you're being mesmerized in front of an entire crowd. It feels so real, so hard to keep yourself awake.

"You're getting so, so sleepy as I cast my magic spell on you," he says, and even though he's speaking loud enough for the audience to hear, he feels so close, like he's only talking to you. "Wouldn't it be nice to shut down those heavy eyes, to relax completely, and to listen sleepily to my voice speaking to you?"

You feel yourself nod. Yes, yes that sounds so nice. You're so drowsy and relaxed and everything feels so warm and good. It makes you feel especially nice to agree with what he's saying. Falling asleep and listening to Fitz just sounds perfect. But --

But -- !

Wait! You're actually falling asleep. You're actually following his commands. He's actually hypnotizing you. It's no trick, it's no act. He's putting you under his control up on a vaudeville stage, in front of a packed theater. Your cheeks flush, and you regain enough of yourself to flinch away from the pocketwatch. You should regain focus before it's too late and you fall completely under his mesmeric influence.

"Oh, dear," he whispers softly in your ear. "It's not the pocketwatch that's putting you under my spell. And I think it's a bit too late for you to resist."

A deep, irresistible drowsiness crashes through you. Your shoulders slump and your head tips forward as you struggle to keep your impossibly heavy eyes open. It's too late -- too late to resist -- you're being hypnotized --

"Shut your eyes, dear," he says, his hand petting you. "It's time to let your heavy, drowsy eyes shut, and remain shut, just like they want to, to relax and fall asleep and listen to me."

Any fight you had left in you has gone, replaced by a hazy feeling of bliss. Closing your eyes feels far too good to fight. Falling asleep and listening to Fitz's voice sounds so, so nice. Why even bother struggling against it? Why not just fall asleep...? 

"Good, good, you're such a natural at this," he says encouragingly. "Your sleepy little eyes want  to stay closed. They're far too heavy to open again. You might want to try, but if you do, you'll find that you can't. It's like they're glued shut. Can you try for me?"

Your eyebrows furrow as you try to open your eyes. Not only are they heavy, but they feel too relaxed to even respond to your commands. It's impossible.

"You can stop trying now and relax. You're doing so well. Such an ideal hypnotized assistant," he says, and you feel yourself practically glowing with the praise. "Now I'm going to have you imagine you're at the top of a staircase. Can you see it? There are ten stairs, and we're going to walk down each one of them, and with every step, you're going to go deeper asleep and deeper into hypnotic trance. Ten... nine..."

You can't believe how it feels to float in a comfortable cloud of sleep and relaxation, absorbing every word Fitz says. You could happily stay like this forever. 

"Five... your hypnotized mind is so obedient... four... it feels so good and natural to obey..."

You don't even need to stay aware of what's happening -- he tells you it's perfectly fine if you're deeply asleep, that you can still listen so carefully while you doze. He's so encouraging and kind and that hand on top of your head seems to just radiate delicious warmth.

"...and you're going to forget you name, dear. You're so deeply sleepy and hypnotized that you can't even remember your own name. It's hidden away in your mind, in a place where you can't reach, and it feels good to forget and sink more deeply into sleep..."

Mmm, yeah, it feels good to forget. Anything Fitz wants you to do is fine with you.

"...and when I count to three, you're going to open your eyes, slowly, so as not to disturb your relaxation. You're going to open your eyes, but you're going to remain deeply asleep and deeply hypnotized, and you're going to forget the audience and focus only on me. Three... remain deeply asleep... two... relaxed and hypnotized... and one... open your eyes."

Your eyes pop open so easily as if you weren't just in the deepest sleep of your life. Or maybe you still are? There's a fuzzy blur in front of you and you're not quite sure where you are until Fitz gets your attention. 

"How are you doing, my sweet little assistant?"

"Very good," you say, eager to please.

He grins, and you feel like a million bucks. "Can you sing a little song for us, just to prove to the audience that you're back in the land of the living?"

Well, of course you can. You can sing the song that's been trapped in your head ever since you heard it on the radio this afternoon. "Yes, we have no bananas," you sing out. "We have no bananas today!"

"That's perfect, dear," Fitz says, laughing. You hear other laughs in the distance, but they aren't important. "Now I seem to have dropped a penny. Would you mind getting on all fours and picking it up?"

You drop to your knees, carefully looking across the stage floor, but you don't see any sign of a penny.

"Never mind, I've already found it. You're very, very good at following instructions, though. I wonder why that is." He winks, and there's another loud laugh in the distance. 

Fitz offers a hand to pull you up, and you feel so wonderfully lovely as he does. "You've been such an excellent assistant so far, simply perfect," he says, letting you bask in the pleasure. "But I have to apologize, because I seem to have forgotten your name. Could you remind me?"

Of course you --

The word dies in your throat. It's at the tip of your tongue, but for some reason, you can't produce it. What is your name? You want to tell Fitz, but it's a complete blank. How could you forget your own name? Just as you feel your cheeks heating up in embarrassment, he smiles and cups your face so gently. "Shhh, it's okay. It's okay that you forgot your name. I don't mind at all. You can just relax and not worry about it."

What a relief! Another wave of sleepy, soothing calm washes through you.

"I'm just going to call you dear anyway, is that all right, dear?"

"Yes."

"So agreeable! Folks, you can't just find good help like this. You have to make it yourself." He releases you and steps back. "Now, just to prove what a hypnotized little thing you are, I would like you to do a trust fall. I'm going to stand here, and on the count of three, you're going to feel all your muscles give way, and you're going to fall backwards right into my arms."

"A trust fall...?" you say, a little apprehensive.

"You trust me, and you want to fall for me, don't you?" he says, with a wicked smile in your direction, and despite your overall relaxation, you can feel your heart flip. "Now then. Three... two... one."

It's so easy. On the count, your body just falls backwards entirely on its own, right into his strong, cold arms. He smells like fancy soap and floral cologne and stage makeup. Some part of you wouldn't mind staying pressed up against him longer. But he sets you upright to the sound of cheers.

"Ladies and gentlemen, as you can see, my assistant is now utterly, helplessly at my command. Isn't that right, dear?"

"Yes, Phantom Fitz," you agree.

"I'm going to have you help me with a few magic tricks. You're such a good assistant that you won't need to think about any of them with your conscious mind. You can just relax and let me direct you, and with every command, you'll feel more deeply asleep and more deeply hypnotized."

You nod drowsily, and let him take you by the shoulders and direct you over to a card table. It feels good to be near him, to listen. He calls up a few more people on stage and you're shuffling and holding cards while he does some tricks you can't quite follow. It's so easy to follow his directions. So easy to focus and listen. 

"Can someone from the audience suggest a pose for my wonderful assistant?" he says. You hear shouts, but you can't take your attention from Fitz. "Oh, that's a good one. Yes, why don't you pose like you're a pretty ballerina?"

You stand on tiptoe and put your arms up in a circle over your head, doing your best to imitate a dancer. He looks you over, appraising you as if you're a statue, adjusting you here and there with a light touch. Finally, he laughs, picks up the line of scarves from the floor, and drapes it around you. "A brilliant work of art, don't you think?" he says to the crowd with a flourish. "This is the kind of statue that you can only see in the finest galleries of Paris, but I've brought it to you right here."

He bows, and then touches your arms so gently. "You can relax now, dear. You've made an excellent statue."

He then has you lay down on a table, his hands pushing your shoulders down gently, and you feel yourself being levitated in midair. There's some kind of platform underneath you and you stay absolutely still just as Fitz ordered. He waves a hoop around your body, and then gently brushes the hair from your face as you lay there, dazed and immobilized.

You look up into his gray-blue eyes. You're so helpless, entirely at his mercy. And that smile makes you feel weak.

You're lowered back onto the table, and he helps you to stand again, your knees feeling wobbly. He holds you up discreetly as he bows to the audience. "Please give a round of applause to my hopelessly mesmerized little helper!" he says, gesturing to you, and you can just see the crowd beyond your lidded eyes as they cheer.

Fitz takes you by the shoulders and is standing oh-so-close. "I'm going to wake you up now so you can go back to your seat, but you're still going to feel drowsy and hypnotized, and you won't quite know why," he whispers, barely audible over the noise of the audience. "Once the show is done, you're going to come find me backstage. You won't remember these commands, but you will act on them. Do you understand, dear?"

You nod. You feel so lovely that you really don't want to be woken up, but you like the idea of getting to see Fitz again. 

"And now you're going to wake up from my mesmeric power when I snap my fingers in one... two... three..."

He snaps his fingers near your ear, and the world snaps back into focus. A whole packed audience of people, men, women, and children, are laughing and cheering for you. You remember the things you did and said, how completely entranced you felt and how powerless you were to resist Fitz's commands. How you couldn't even remember your own name, and how you let him put his hands all over you...

"You feel fine after all of that, don't you?" he says with a smile.

Your momentary humiliation fades, but you're still so woozy, like it's hard to think straight. "Fine. Good, really. Like I've had a really good night's sleep," you say uncertainly.

He leans in to whisper in your ear. "You did an excellent job playing along."

"Playing along?" you can't help but blurt out. He can't possibly think that -- he must know what he did, what he's capable of --

"Here, let me help you off the stage."

You're not sure why, but you let him take your shoulders and guide you to the stairs as if you're a docile little lamb. You're so dazed, nearly tripping over your feet as you stumble back to your seat. 

"What was that like?" says the stranger in the seat next to yours. "It seemed so real. Did he actually have you under?"

You don't really want to admit to a perfect stranger that you were under an actual mesmeric spell. She'd think you're making it up. "No, it was just pretend," you say.

"I figured. You did a good job with it! I don't think I could pretend to do all those things if I were on stage."

You nod. You don't think you could, either, not if you actually were pretending.

Playing along...

You weren't, were you? It felt so real. You can hardly remember most of it, and you genuinely felt that you were in a deep, entranced sleep. You remember that all you wanted to do was agree with Fitz and obey his orders. Wasn't it actual hypnosis? Or are you just so weak-willed that you fell under the fake spell of a two-bit vaudeville performer...

Fitz has picked up his props and gone offstage, and a couple of comedians are doing a bit now. You watch without paying the slightest bit of attention. You're so tired after all of that excitement. So sleepy.

There's something you need to do after the show, but you can't quite remember what it is. You hope that you can remember when the show ends.

Masterlist >> Part Two

Thank you for volunteering for Phantom Fitz's show. Next time, we'll see what happens to our victim volunteer as they go to meet him backstage.

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @whumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining-blog @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada @typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia @a-formless-entity

#whump #vampire #whump writing #mind control #hypnosis #hypnotic induction #magic show #stage hypnosis #vampire whumper #rare bookseller #fitz

[whumpstuff1]

Magic whumper who brands their whumpee with a mark that never stops burning.

Or

A mark that the whumper can control to hurt the whumpee as punishment.

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