i remember damage.

reader + chaotic reblogger | 30s

[much-ado-about-whumping]

Help for when you’re having a rough time

In light of some deeply sad news in the whump community today, I’m thinking about how many of us here struggle with mental health, sometimes including physical or mental self-harm and suicidality. Since I know lots of folks might be having a hard time right now, I wanted to share some resources that have helped me in rough moments. Please feel free to add on to this post (or make your own, if you want!) with the resources that have worked for you. 

First, a note:

Trauma, shame, and suicidality all tend to isolate - they make us feel like we’re all alone in the world, like no one else would understand us, and like the only solutions we have available to us are ones we can think of all by ourselves. In my experience, the antidote to that is connection. If you’re feeling scared or alone, you can hop into my asks or DMs if you want. I’m sure there are other folks in this community who would offer that, too. Many of us have grappled with mental health struggles, including suicidal ideation, and sometimes we can offer each other the care that can be hard to offer ourselves. Don’t be afraid to reach out if you need support.

That said, here’s my absolute first recommendation if you’re feeling generally awful and don’t know what to do:

1. You Feel Like Shit (also available at its original site here)

If you’ve read a lot of ~self care tips~ in your life (and if you’re a bit of a salty bitch like me), you might be sick of being told to eat something and take a nap. (I don’t think we can hydrate our way out of long-term trauma and late-stage capitalistic hell, but thanks.) That said, I’ve found this site REALLY helpful. Personally, I have ADHD and CPTSD, a combination that makes it ROUGH for me to know how to take care of myself sometimes. This site speaks to you calmly, like a non-judgemental friend, and walks you through steps that you might struggle with if you have a hard time with executive function in general, or if you’re ill, grieving, overwhelmed, or otherwise just off your game. I pretty much always walk away feeling at least a little better, even if I don’t complete every step.

There are more suggestions and resources below the cut. Wishing everyone in this community love and care. <3

Keep reading

[victimeyez]

Lonely Without You

Part of the Professional//Victim series

Tommy remembered the first time Caius had kissed him. He was strung up, naked and bloody, bound to a cross for Caius’s cane. His limbs sagged limp in his bindings, in too much pain to speak. When Caius approached him and lifted his head to look at him, Tommy saw fire in his eyes, and he thought he was going to die.

There was something ferocious in his expression, an intensity so urgent it frightened him. Suddenly Caius was close, too close, pressing his forehead to Tommy’s and boring holes in his skull with the look in those grey eyes. Then lips pressed against his, and he was so surprised he gasped. Caius used the opportunity to lick into his mouth, lingering there as Tommy’s brain raced to try to catch up and respond. Cauis pressed his mouth over his once more, hard, hungry, and Tommy could feel his desire, intruding in on his thoughts like a knife between the eyes.

Caius wanted to devour him. 

Just as suddenly as it happened, it ended, and Caius pulled away. Tommy gaped, gasping, like Caius had stolen his breath away. His whole body ached and stung, and it overwhelmed the rest of his senses.

“Good boy Tommy, good boy,” Caius reassured him quietly, his hands trailing manicured nails down Tommy’s chest to rest on his hips, thumbing the shallow divots there. 

“You’ll understand someday. I’ll teach you.” Those hands strayed lower, and Caius took his limp cock in his hand and stroked it gently. 

“No,” Tommy whispered, and with his free hand, Caius stroked the hair out of his face. 

“The pain doesn’t have to lessen the pleasure. I’m going to teach you both. Try to enjoy it,” he murmured, and looked down at Tommy’s penis in his hand. 

“I know I will.”

-

Tommy sat in his room, feeling insignificant. Caius hadn’t visited him in three days. The only sign he was still alive was delivered in the form of meals through Tommy’s dumbwaiter. Once in the morning and once in the evening, with nothing else to break the monotony. 

He killed time in all the ways he knew how. Mostly thinking, imagining a different life outside his cell. He made up a tattoo design competition show to compete in and drew for a while, orating his talking head segments to Bunny as he imagined them, and defended his artwork to an invisible row of judges. He spoke only in whispers, muttering bits and pieces under his breath to his stuffed animal. Then he paced around his room for a while, talking with an imaginary interviewer about his imaginary experience on the imaginary show. He made up an arch nemesis competitor that tried to sabotage him, until he got a bit upset with his imaginary disagreements and abandoned the idea. 

He checked his bathroom to see if it was dirty. Nope, spotless. He cleaned it anyways, making a face at the smell of the vinegar solution he was allowed to use. No chemicals, of course, in case he tried drinking them for an easy way out.   

He imagined, and paced, and made his bed, and unmade it again. He tried to make a little fort with his pillow and blanket, but he didn’t have enough bedding to make much of anything with. He laid down and stared at the ceiling for a while, and then laid the opposite way just to change it up. He picked at the threads coming loose in the corner of his blanket, and when he successfully pulled three strings out, he made a tiny braid. Drew for a while, tried to invent the ultimate paper airplane. Watched television, but nothing good was on, so he settled for a vacuum infomercial.

His heart sank when he heard the dumbwaiter activate again. While the food and drugs it brought were welcome, it confirmed he would not see Caius today. Again. 

Caius wasn’t exactly the best company, but it was all Tommy could get, and he found himself missing his handler, just to talk with another human being again. If he was being punished, he couldn’t think of what for, no matter how he racked his brain. He missed having his hair brushed and hearing about the outside world. He was overdue for his time outside, and he was going stir-crazy without it. He couldn’t see anything through the basement’s glass brick, but he saw the tantalizing glow of sunlight beyond it.

Everyone else gets to go outside, and I’m stuck in here forever. 

It was a difficult thought to sit with, and one he’d had many times before. If there was a cure for it, he didn’t know. Instead, he felt overwhelmed by the unfairness of it all, and how he could want something so bad he could taste it, yet still be denied.

He sat in front of the TV and turned it up as loud as he could to drown out the bad thoughts, numbing his brain until the meds kicked in, and zoned out. 

~

Caius came slowly down the stairs, feeling a little nervous, a little high. Today would be a momentous occasion, one he’d been putting off for five whole years. Part of him wanted to keep it going, keep Tommy’s innocence forever, but another part of him said that it was time. He’d had his fun. Now he wanted it to be real, and the gravity of it was not lost on him. The idea was exciting, and his body thrummed with energy, his heart pounding. Down the stairs, into the dollhouse. This time, he was playing for keeps. 

He hesitated at the door, savoring the anticipation. He’d let Tommy stew in his room for a few days, ignoring him while he let his loneliness grow ripe and sweet. He would not want to turn Caius away tonight. 

The thick door muffled the sounds of the television inside, but it was blaring when he opened the door, finding Tommy cross-legged on the floor. He looked tired, like he’d been nodding off, but he turned his face to Caius when he entered.

“Caius?” He croaked, his voice hoarse from disuse. The only light came from the television, a neon blue reflected in Tommy’s pale face, giving him an ethereal glow. Caius memorized the moment before flicking on the lights, making Tommy flinch and hide his face in his hands with a groan. 

“Don’t you know it’s not good for your eyes to sit close to the television?” He had to raise his voice to cut through the noise, and Tommy scrambled forwards to turn the volume down. “Sorry!”

The boy was excited to see him, and it brought a smile to his lips. Tommy shuffled onto his knees and stood, a little shaky on his legs before stabilizing. Caius had made sure he wasn’t on anything too strong tonight – just the right level of high to make him more docile. Caius was careful that he was just the right level of high to do this the right way. 

“Are-are you here for a visit? For a little bit?” Tommy tried to keep his desperation from his voice, but Caius knew him too well. He remembered then, the first time Tommy had actually asked him to stay - begged him, even, and the way it made his heart seize in his chest. So pathetic. So adorable. How could he say no?

Caius looked around the room, chewing his lip like he was thinking about it before finally answering, “I suppose I could stay a few minutes.” He did not miss how Tommy’s shoulders slumped in relief. He sat on the edge of Tommy’s bed and patted the mattress beside him. “How about you come sit here with me?”

Tommy dutifully joined him, his legs dangling over the edge as he sat half-turned towards his handler. 

“How was your day? What-what have you been up to? Anything fun?” He asked eagerly, and Caius chuckled, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “I suppose it’s been a while since we caught up. Well, a while for us.” Tommy was receptive to his touch, snuggling closer with a rare eagerness. He always became more appreciative of Caius after an isolation punishment, needy for his attention after going without. 

“Well,” he started, rubbing Tommy’s shoulder. “I went to the opening of a new art gallery in town, but it wasn’t what I thought it would be. The venue was much smaller than what I was expecting, and was more than a bit overdressed for the occasion.”

“Oh no! What did you do?”

“Loosened my tie and lost the cufflinks. Then I was just well dressed enough to make other people feel bad about themselves.” He chuckled, and Tommy giggled, too. 

“Did you buy any art?”

“No, it was amateur hour in there. But I suppose there were a few pieces that were alright.” Caius took his phone out and scrolled through his pictures, hugging Tommy close to his side as he leaned over eagerly to watch. He paused momentarily on a selfie, and Tommy pointed to it. He was wearing a blue suit, the jacket open over a white button-up with a black tie. 

“You look good there! How were the other people dressed?”

“Business casual at best. Some were even wearing shorts.”

Tommy gasped and put a hand over his mouth as if scandalized, breaking into a big grin when he lowered it again. A thought occurred to him then, and his eyes widened. 

“Oh! I um, I have a bunch of new art, can I show you?”

“Sure.”

Tommy sorted through a loose stack on his bookshelf, pulling the best few out to bring back to Caius. He held them out shyly, waiting for him to take them before crawling back onto the bed with him. Caius tilted the first page to hold it up to the light, squinting at the crayon drawings. 

“What is it, a swan?”

“A heron,” Tommy offered, slightly deflated. 

“Oh yes, I see it now. Hmm…good use of shading here in the wing. And I like the subversion of expectations with having a green bird and purple cattails.”

“It’s a green heron!”

“It certainly is.”

Tommy opened his mouth to tell him that was the name of the species, but caught himself and held his tongue. It was okay to let Caius think he was a ditz. Advantageous, even. But it still didn’t feel good to let his best friend/arch nemesis think he was stupid. Well, more stupid. 

Caius had some critiques for all of the pieces, but Tommy was just glad to share them with someone. 

They talked for a while. Mostly Caius, telling Tommy about his days, his nights, the weather, the guys. Tommy was hungry for attention and paid it in turn, asking follow-up questions and prompting for details. He didn’t have much of anything to offer for his own whereabouts the last few days, but he told Caius about the vacuum cleaner he saw in an ad. 

“They said it’s cordless. How is that possible?”

“Well, you probably have to charge it, like anything else.”

“Oh…well…maybe next time you’re um, looking for a new vacuum.”

Caius chuckled. “I’ll keep it in mind.” 

When there was a lull in the conversation, Caius cleared his throat. “You know uh, when I was at that art gallery, I was approached by a photographer who asked me to model for her.”

Tommy’s eyes went wide. “Oh wow! Are you going to do it?”

Caius made a noncommittal noise. “See, the thing is, she wants me to model…nude.”

Tommy hid his smile behind his hand. “She asked you for nudes?!”

“She said it was purely for her artistic vision.”

“Yeah, sure,” and they both laughed. Caius nudged him.

“You’ve posed nude. How does it feel?”

Tommy’s smile faded and he had to look away, rubbing his arm self-consciously. “That’s…different, I think.”

Caius frowned for effect. “I don’t think so, so…how is it?”

Tommy chewed on his thumbnail. Caius grabbed his elbow and forced his arm down to stop him.

“Well?”

“It’s…humiliating,” Tommy murmured. He couldn’t look at Caius. “Everyone else is dressed. You just feel…” he grasped for words, letting out a small sigh when he failed to gather them. “Ashamed,” he concluded. 

“Oh, little one,” Caius said, voice sympathetic. He turned to Tommy and took his shoulders in his broad hands, pushing him back to lay him on the bed. One hand held him down while the other caught the hem of his shirt, pulling it up almost to his neck to expose his belly to him. 

“What do you have to be ashamed of?”

He splayed his hands over Tommy’s chest, using his thumbs to rub and flick at the small pink nipples on his chest. Tommy looked up at him, flushed and wide-eyed, his pupils dilated with fear and helpless arousal. Caius liked playing with him, teasing him until he was squirming under his hands and there was a little tent in his pants. 

“You’re so sweet like this… maybe I should have her photograph you,” Caius murmured, Tommy shook his head, making him chuckle. “Don’t be so bashful.” 

He tugged on Tommy, positioning him on the bed and pulling his butt up into his lap. He massaged his hips while he rolled his own up, rubbing against his ass with a soft, contented sigh. Tommy started to look uncomfortable, his eyes darting around as if looking for a distraction. When Caius ground against him, his face went red. 

“What–what are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing?” Caius asked easily, leaning over to press kisses up Tommy’s throat. He started to struggle, weakly, testing the bonds of Caius’s pin on him. 

“W-wait, I’ll– let me get–get on my, on my knees,” he asked, but his voice was squeaky and nervous. He would rather do that than whatever this was.

“That’s not what I want from you right now.”

“Please, please, I can make you feel good….” Tommy hesitated when Caius said it at the same time as he did. What was that?

“I’ll suck it, please Caius, please let me, please?” He tried to roll off of him, intending to get to his knees, but Caius’s hands became shackles around his wrists, pinning him in place. He caged Tommy in with his body, pressing and rutting against him. Cruel teeth found his shoulder and Tommy cried out, writhing beneath as he chewed, and it felt like he was rending his flesh between his jaws. Tommy suddenly remembered Sarge in his lap, bent over him, ravaging him with bites. He’d forgotten it, tried to let it slip from his mind, but now it came back so suddenly and so fresh that he froze. He panted and keened softly in pain as Caius bit and kissed and licked him, feeling a bit like a chew toy in a lion’s enclosure. Soft golden strands fell across his face as Caius looked back up at him, leaning in to kiss him. 

Something is wrong. This is different. 

There was one last line Caius never crossed, and he was getting dangerously close. Tommy’s throat was closing, and he gasped for air as soon as Caius let up on his unresponsive lips. His voice came out in a terrified whisper. 

“Please, Caius, don’t open that door…” They said it at the same time again, and Tommy stared at Caius, feeling like the butt of a joke he wasn’t understanding yet. His stomach was an anxious knot inside of him. 

“How do you…” 

Caius looked in his eyes, and he felt pinned like a butterfly beneath his stormy stare. He had a small smile on his face, an attempt at sympathy, but he was barely holding back laughter. 

“...know what you’re about to say before you say it?” Caius finished. Tommy couldn’t answer, barely managing a stiff nod. 

“Because…” Caius withdrew a hand to stroke Tommy’s hair out of his face, tugging a lock behind his ear. His voice absolutely oozed pity. “Oh, angel…you say the same things every time.”

______________

Taglist:

@suspicious-whumping-egg  @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @whumpyourdamnpears @generic-whumperz @lonesome--hunter

@whumplr-reader @theelvishcowgirl @sunshiline-writes @dont-be-gentle-please @galesgallery

@2in1whump @sparrowsage @whumpinggrounds

@morning-star-whump @leviiio @alexmundaythrufriday @defire @jumpywhumpywriter

@light-me-on-pyre @slightlydisturbedbeans @dislexiher @knivestothroats @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

@2in1whump @sparrowsage @whumpinggrounds @galactic-worm @hellodecisionparalysis

@blurryeyeswhump @sirnef-fenris @absolutebeanloverr @girlsdogmotif@scoundrelwithboba

@possumhoe @suchprettypieces @ohnowhoops @thesecretgardenofmymind @alwaysherother

[victimeyez]

Moonlight

A part of the Professional//Victim series

-

“Hey.”

Tommy blinked blearily awake to being shaken. 

“Wake up.”

He blinked slowly up, squinting in the dark, where a sharp beam of white light cut across Caius’s face. Hunched over him, shaking him. Tommy groaned in response, and Caius leaned in. His smell rolled over him then, and he smelled like alcohol and weed and smoke and sex. He smelled like the night, and it had been so long since Tommy had been out in the night, he smelled delicious to him. He nuzzled in to sniff him without thinking, and Caius purred, misinterpreting his motion and swooping in to claim his lips. Tommy was too tired to react in time before he was being kissed, and too stunned to pull away. 

Caius’s tongue was cold when it slithered into his mouth. Arms encircled him like an octopus ensnaring him, and he was forcefully cradled against his body.

He tasted like the night, too. 

When Caius pulled away, he licked his lips, like he liked the way Tommy tasted, too. 

He dragged Tommy’s sheets off of him, revealing the baggy pajamas he wore, his top riding up to show his stomach. 

“This is gonna hurt a lot less if you’re compliant.”

Tommy’s mouth went dry. A hand reached in and touched his collar, stroking gently. Sliding down the neckline of his shirt, touching his bare chest underneath. Rubbing in circles soothingly. Murmuring softly to him, as if consoling him. 

The hand moved lower to his stomach, and crawled under his waistband, cupping him with one broad hand.

He didn’t see it coming in time when the other arm around him pulled out the nasal spray. The plastic nozzle was forced up his nose in one quick motion, pumping spray up his nostril. His nose blazed with pain, burning out in his sinuses where the heat cooled to a blessed numb. Tommy immediately started to feel heavy, impossibly heavy, growing too weak to move. 

“Just relax, angel. All you have to do is lay back and let it happen.”

Tommy didn’t realize his nose was bleeding until he tasted blood. 

He just laid there and took it, blurrily watching Caius moving over him, highlighted by that one beam of light. So pale, so cold, turning Caius a glowing white in the moonlight. Tommy could see one eye, occasionally roving back to his, meeting his gaze. All he could do was let out a soft whimper when the pain began, eager hands . 

“You’re doing so good, my good boy. So obedient for me.”

Tears leaked out the side of his eyes, and he couldn’t brush them away. The blood oozed over his lip, down his throat, joining the tears soaking his collar and dripping down his shirt. Just watching it happen to him, the white devil in the pale moonlight.

It was going to be a long night.

~

Taglist:

@suspicious-whumping-egg  @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @whumpyourdamnpears @generic-whumperz @lonesome--hunter

@whumplr-reader @theelvishcowgirl @sunshiline-writes @dont-be-gentle-please @galesgallery

@2in1whump @sparrowsage @whumpinggrounds

@morning-star-whump @leviiio @alexmundaythrufriday @defire @jumpywhumpywriter

@light-me-on-pyre @slightlydisturbedbeans @dislexiher @knivestothroats @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

@2in1whump @sparrowsage @whumpinggrounds @galactic-worm @hellodecisionparalysis

@blurryeyeswhump @sirfenris @absolutebeanloverr @girlsdogmotif@scoundrelwithboba

@possumhoe @suchprettypieces @ohnowhoops

[corrodedcoffinfest]

Upcoming Events

Here's a sneak peek of our upcoming events currently scheduled for 2026! This includes our main event, The 3rd Annual Corroded Coffin Fest in July! And we've got another round of Bingo coming in May! To offset these two larger events, I've flanked them with microfic challenges.

Here are the current prompt post(s) already up for current/upcoming events. Go check them out:

Decades Bingo

3rd Annual Corroded Coffin Fest

The rest of the full posts with all the specifics and guidelines will drop on the dates listed.

There would be no events without your participation - so, thank you all!

I hope to see you all during these upcoming events, and if you've never joined one of our events before - welcome! We'd love to have you join in on our fun!

Thanks for continuing to make CCF what it is. ❤️

[allsteddie]

Royalty AU where Steve is a prince, about to be married to a woman he's never even met so his father can secure their kingdom.

Meanwhile, Eddie is a thief, part of Hopper's crew, and they are planning to invade the castle during the wedding to steal whatever they can, since most of the guard is going to be too busy taking care of the ceremony; security everywhere else on the castle will be way easier to fool that way.

Hopper gives orders to all his crew members about what they're supposed to take and where to find them. They've studied the castle thoroughly for the past few months; everyone is more than ready when the wedding day finally comes.

One by one, everyone in the crew gets back to their meeting location safely and with the itens they were supposed to steal and Hopper is overjoyed that his plan is turning out to be a success.

Until Eddie finally shows up.

With Prince Steve trailing behind him.

Everyone is so shocked that no one says a word, the silence deafening for a bit too long and then Hopper at last finds his voice again.

"I sent you to steal the crown jewels, not the fucking prince, Eddie!!"

Eddie pouts, "But he was looking so sad."

[tallahasseemp3]

this lesbian love note in a thrifted book has overcome me like it really is all about love it has always been and will always be

[qqchurch]

[d0-n0thing]

[alyscat]

💞✨Intro Post!✨💞

Welcome to my whumpy, guilty pleasure blog! I'm Alys, a college student venting my stress out through original fics, the occasional thought/prompts, and whatever else I feel like.

My asks and DMs are always open!!!! I'd love to get to know new friends!

‼️⚠️I may post 18+, NSFW, noncon, and explicit content, but it will always be tagged⚠️‼️

My Series

🪳🪰Six Months Free: Hero/villain whump + yandere whumper + former living weapon whumpee + conditioned whumpee + intimate whumper + lab whump elements + insectphobia

🤍🌹Pure as the Driven Snow: The Hunger Games fanfiction + The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes + Lucy Gray AU + Mrs Snow + Coryo and Lucy Gray

🖤🔗 In Her Keep: COMING SOON!!!!!!!! Vampire whump + pet whump + vampire whumper + pet whumpee + yandere whumper + intimate whumper + religious trauma

[alyscat]

Six Months Free 5: Speaking Up

Previous

TW: Noncon kissing, noncon touch, post-punishment, punishment, conditioned whumpee, creepy/intimate whumper, insectphobia, mentions of previous whump, references to past lab whump (I think that's it????? If I missed any let me know!!)

Note: In this chapter, Diana switches between referring to herself as Diana and EI427. They are the same person. If you haven't read previous chapters, EI427 was her 'name' at the institution where she was born and raised to be a living weapon!!!!

----------------

Damien had a Table Room, like the REIA did. This Table Room was messier than the REIA’s, but it still had a metal table in the center. There were counters and shelves with different bottles, shots, IVs, scalpels, and things EI427 had never been given the names for. EIs didn’t need to know the names of medical objects, after all. Damien had all of those things, but his Table Room was a little different. For example, in his Table Room, the entire back wall was covered with dead insects pinned in place. Each insect had a careful index card beneath it with neat, tiny print. She couldn’t read what it said from her spot on the table, though. His Table Room smelled like cigarette smoke. It also had strange green lighting instead of the too-bright lights of the REIA Table Room. 

When Damien carried her into his Table Room, he set her on the metal table before going to the counter and lighting a cigarette. Only then did he begin to work. He wrapped her shattered foot in white gauze, then strapped a brace around it. He was talking while he did this, maybe, but Diana’s ears were ringing, and she couldn’t hear him. When he was finished, he slipped out of the room again.

At the REIA, when EI427 would be brought to the Table Room, it was for experiments and operations, and things that were always painful. So Diana was no stranger to pain. It was simply that over the last few months, she didn’t have anywhere near as much pain. Maybe that was why it hit her so hard. Because lying here, as she felt her body begin to tremble and her head swim, she knew she wasn’t responding well. The Academy trainers would have been disappointed.

The room was so cold.

The door swung open, and Damien returned with a hoodie and a water bottle. He took a drink before setting it down on a counter. Seeing the water made her lick her lips, though she knew better than to ask. She was just… So thirsty, and her stomach was cramping with hunger, but the thought of eating made her nauseous. Pain did that to you, as EI427 had learned while in training. 

He stepped towards her. She was still shaking, goosebumps on her skin, and she tried to stop but she couldn’t. The metal table creaked as Damien sat beside her. “Here, try to sit up now, love.”

Her head spun as Damien’s hand settled on her back, guiding her actions. But she did as told. She was a good girl. She knew how to be a good girl. Her limbs robotically moved as Damien directed. He pulled the sweater over her head. It was warm. Soft. A light gray, with black swirls on it. When she looked down to study the fabric, her icy eyes widened. The swirls were moving. It was covered with ants. 

“Good job. That’s better, isn’t it?” Damien cooed, his thumb tracing circles on the back of her neck. 

Her trembling intensified, and she could only be grateful as Damien let her fall back against the table’s surface. It was cold. Hard. Her head thudded on the metal. But if she looked at the hoodie any longer, she was going to be sick. Don’t look at the sweater. At least if she didn’t, Diana could pretend her skin was crawling with fear rather than literal bugs. She squeezed her eyes shut against the green-tinted light overhead. There were probably bugs in the lightbulbs, too. They were everywhere. Everywhere, every….

Something caressed her jaw. More bugs? God, make it stop, make it—

The table creaked. She forced herself to look up. 

Damien was crouched over her, his knees straddling her hips. It was hard to tell what he was thinking. Her powers were blocked again, and his face was unreadable, but… But Damien was smiling down at her. The sensation on her jaw returned, and she realized it wasn’t bugs. It was Damien’s thumb. Caressing her jaw, tracing up until it drew across her lips.

Despite herself, Diana recoiled. Her shoulders hunched together as she crossed her arms protectively over her chest. Immediately, the ants shifted to climb over her forearms like they were a new skyscraper to explore. Stop, stop, stop….

Say something, Diana. Fucking say something!

“You’ve been so good for me, Diana,” Damien sighed, his thumb exploring the curve of her lips. Her eyes burned with unshed tears as the tip of his finger slid into her mouth. “I know that pain seems like punishment to you. After everything you’ve been through… It makes sense. I understand, baby. But I want you to know this isn’t punishment. You just don’t know what’s good for you yet.”

His nail scraped against her teeth. Diana’s breath hitched, and she turned her head away, squeezing her eyes shut again as she tried to curl in on herself. But her mummified foot shifted on the table, and it shot fire up her leg, and she couldn’t help a small cry as she froze again.

Where could she go? She could try to avoid Damien touching her, but she was stuck beneath him on a table. In his territory. Even if somehow Diana could walk, his creatures would be upon her in seconds.

Say something. Speak, just… Just say you’re tired. It was true. She was tired, beyond exhausted, but dammit, she couldn’t force her mouth to work yet. She tucked her chin against her chest and lifted her shoulders, as if that could somehow shield her.

The weight of Hive’s body settled on her hips as he sat on her. Ants crawled up the sweater; she could feel them on the back of her neck, and she couldn’t breathe. Maybe Diana was imagining it. 

She knew she wasn’t.

“Diana,” Hive sighed, and he was disappointed. It was in his voice. Sad and disappointed, his hand settled on her shoulder. His other hand fisted in her hair, forcing her to look at him.

Her eyes stayed tightly squeezed shut. It was all too much. Couldn’t he just… Just leave her alone, please? Diana just… Just needed to be left alone, needed to sleep and breathe and not feel him touching her, he was touching her, and the bugs were on her and….

“Diana,” he repeated, his voice sharper this time. He gripped her hair tighter, until her scalp burned, and she kept her eyes squeezed shut.

She needed to look at him. She was supposed to look at him; that’s clearly what he wanted, wasn’t it? But why didn’t he say so? Tell her what she was supposed to do, he should tell her, cause Diana wanted to be a good girl, but the hand on her shoulder was moving now. It was soft. Featherlight as it drifted lower, to where her arms were crossed over her chest. He tried to peel her arms away, and she didn’t want them to move; she didn’t want him to touch her, but her limbs obeyed Hive’s unspoken command.

Fingers squeezed her breast through the ant-covered sweater. “Look at me,” he breathed, and her eyes opened at the command just as he leaned forward to press his lips against hers.

Ice filled her veins. The hand in her hair softened, still holding her in place, but not quite as painfully. He was kissing her. He was…. His tongue probed her lips, and without thinking, Diana opened. 

She was a good girl. She knew how to be a good girl, and he wanted her mouth open, so she opened her mouth. 

And then Damien was kissing her harder, his tongue sliding in her mouth, and then he was biting her lip, and it was all sharp and teeth and claiming…. Yes, claiming. That’s what it was. And she was frozen, paralyzed, as he was kissing her and his hand was on her chest, sliding under the sweater, groping her breasts. Damien sighed against her mouth. His hips began to rock back and forth, grinding against her….

It was too much. She wasn’t meant to do this, it… It didn’t feel right; it felt wrong. The realization clicked into place. Wrong. This was wrong. She didn’t want to do this; it was wrong. 

Diana jerked her head back and shoved at his chest with both hands. She was panting, eyes wide, and spit covered her mouth, and she immediately began to swipe at her lips in disgust. “No. No, Damien.”

He was still straddling her, and she couldn’t go far. Her foot made sure of that. But Diana pushed herself to a sitting position despite the throbbing pain in her leg and head, her heart racing. Damien said he wasn’t her new handler. If he wasn’t a handler…. She could say no. 

Right? No one had kissed her before. Handlers didn’t do that, but… But she was supposed to listen, but it felt wrong. She didn’t want him to touch her like that. 

His dark eyes flashed as he climbed off her trembling form. For a moment, silence hung between them. The tension was sharp enough to cut with a knife. Then, just like that, it snapped. Damien was shaking his head as he knelt beside the metal table, his hand immediately stroking her hair. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right, baby… I shouldn’t have done that so quickly,” he soothed. 

Her eyes widened. She squirmed slightly, but his hand moved with her, incessantly petting her. “It isn’t your fault. You still haven’t been away from them for very long… You don’t know how to accept love, poor thing. I need to be more patient. It isn’t your fault.” Skin crawling. Panting. Trembling.

Bugs buzzing. Ants crawling over her.

Moths fluttered around Damien’s head. Damien leaned closer, nuzzling against her neck and planting soft kisses on her collarbone. The moths followed him. Two landed on her face.

His hand pet her hair.

Diana shook her head, and he didn’t move. She whimpered, and he didn’t stop. Stop. She wanted him away, she hurt, she was tired, he was touching her, and it was wrong.

He was touching her. 

It was wrong.

“No!” Diana said again, and this time, it was a scream. She shoved him as hard as she could, and he stumbled back, finally releasing her. His hands were off. His hands were off of her. “No, don’t touch me! I want-I want you to leave me alone!”

The understanding and devotion vanished from his face in an instant. Fury contorted his features.

Her heart raced. Mistake. This had been a mistake. Damien lied…. He was like the REIA. Like her handlers. It didn’t matter what she wanted, even though it should have mattered. She was supposed to be like a person. She was supposed to be a person. That’s what she learned after she fled the REIA. That’s why she escaped, why she tried to be free. 

It wasn’t fair.

“You want to be left alone, baby?” Damien said lowly, cocking his head to the side. He flicked his wrist, and the ants that coated the sweater and her skin all crawled off at once in a swarm. Every insect in the room followed. The moths, the spiders, the fireflies buzzing around the ceiling. “Did they break you that much? You’d rather be alone?” His voice broke on the last word, before hardening again. A hand stretched out towards the open door. “Fine. I’m not the villain here, Diana. I will give you what you want.”

Three giant wasps came flying in. They were the genetically engineered ones—twice the normal size, with inflated, green-striped abdomens. The wasps that drained her powers away. Her eyes widened at the sight, and she was left silent again. Voice fleeing her because good girls don’t beg.

Good girls accept their punishment.

With a crook of his finger, the wasps flew towards Diana. They landed on her shattered foot. Just the slight pressure of their tiny bodies made spots swim in her vision, and Diana shoved her fist in her mouth. Don’t scream. Good girls don’t scream, good girls don’t scream… The insects moved, probing between the wrapping until they found bare skin. 

Their stingers pierced her skin, one after the other. She bit down hard on her hand as she fell onto the table again, back arching, a silent scream begging to escape. Her vision turned black. Nausea churned in her gut, and she was going to throw up, she was going to throw up. Damien’s hand gently stroked her sweat-slicked forehead. “I’ll leave you alone now, love. You don’t see it now… But this isn’t a punishment. This is for your own good.”

A strangled sob escaped her as she writhed on the table. She couldn’t breathe, and the door slammed shut. The click of a lock followed. 

Even the quiet hum of the insects was gone. They had left with Hive. The only sound in the dim room was her own pants and sobs.

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Let me know if you want to be added or removed!!!!! Tag list: @oddsconvert @stars-hide-our-fires @watsonbee @weibun-artart

[hidingintheleaves]

In The Woods Somewhere masterlist

Part 1 - Survivor Part 2 - Bite The Bullet Part 3 - Gross Anatomy aka Maybe We Should Get This Over With Part 4 - Extracurricular Activities

[hidingintheleaves]

Hi 👋 I just found your blog and I'm loving the artwork; Quick question tho, what is the context of the art work? Who are these characters?

Thank you! And I apologize: I didn’t even think to give context, because I’ve been drawing mostly for the author and a small discord of fans. The characters are from @knivestothroats’ whump series In the Woods Somewhere:

In The Woods Somewhere masterlist

Part 1 - Survivor Part 2 - Bite The Bullet Part 3 - Gross Anatomy aka Maybe We Should Get This Over With Part 4 - Extracurricular Activities

More explaining under the cut.

Buck is a hiker who accidentally stumbles on a mercenary training campground (in the woods somewhere) and gets kidnapped by the instructor, Fletcher. Fletcher basically goes, “well I can’t let you go, because you’ve seen too much, but it would be a waste to kill you” and decides to keep him to use as a teaching prop (as well as manual labor/punching bag/company because they’re actually very lonely but they won’t admit it on pain of death). Fletcher is awesome. Buck is my darling. The trainees are great. And the author themself is super nice and deserves all the engagement with their story.

[knivestothroats]

built in handle (from the anonymous benefactor)

[knivestothroats]

rub-a-dub-dub, buck in the tub

from an anonymous benefactor

[hidingintheleaves]

[hidingintheleaves]

Game Night :)

[whumperstorm]

And then she puts the cig out on him :)

[hidingintheleaves]

…and then she puts the cig out on him, yes.

[hidingintheleaves]