Hey there! I'm a new addition to the whump-loving community. You can call me Ell or Ellie, and my pronouns are he/him/his. I like classic and animated whump, so expect to see some unconventional tastes. Don't be shy, send a message!
"Abuse is when a man seeks to break someone for his own pleasure," Whumper said. "Correction is when a man seeks to build someone up by teaching them where they stand. You're lashing out because you're being held to a standard, and you're too soft to meet it."
His hand on the nape of Whumpee's neck tightened not enough to hurt, but enough to command absolute attention. He leaned down, his face inches from Whumpee's, his eyes boring into theirs with a terrifying intensity.
"Don't you *ever* use that word again to cover up your own lack of discipline. It's an insult to people who have actually suffered."
More torture for little Marcus 😈 Many thanks to @whump-tr0pes for letting me do this, you're the best ✨
Read it here or over on ao3. 2430 words. Enjoy 🍆
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Can you see anything, Levy Unit?”
You know I fucking can’t! “No, Captain.”
“Do you know what that means?”
Marcus gasped as he felt the tablet move. Instead of it lifting away, he felt it slide along his inner thigh, toward his groin. No. Fuck. Without thinking, he strained against the straps pinning his legs to the chair to bring his knees together.
“I asked you a question, Lev.”
He clenched his teeth together, flinching as the hard, cool edge of the tablet nudged between his legs.
“You’re so easy to distract,” David murmured, sounding amused.
“It means I can’t, hnngh--” Marcus looked down, despite the blindfold, as fingers replaced the tablet, rubbing along the crotch seam on his pants. How is this training?!
“Yes?”
“I can’t see any information on the display,” he said in a rush, tensed against the chair restraints as David continued to grope. Marcus inhaled sharply but didn’t cry out as heard and felt his fly being unzipped. Don’t. Not this.
“Good. Eyes front, Lev.”
He obeyed, hoping it didn’t show when he shivered.
“There may come a day when you are taken captive out in the field. It is possible that they will demand you reveal information that you do not have. It is imperative that you behave as though you do know what they want. Why is that, Lev?”
“That--” His voice gave out as fingers grazed him through his boxers. Why... Marcus dug his fingernails into his palms and swallowed. “That gives the team time to attempt an extraction.”
“Correct. For the first part of your time here, you will need to resist telling me about what you didn’t see on the display.”
Marcus' jaw flexed as he tried to take a deeper breath. If you can’t be calm, breathe deep and fake it. Of course, that advice was usually about enduring the last grueling part of a training exercise, not ignoring while an officer molested-- He froze for a moment as the hand withdrew from his pants.
“I’m going to hurt you until you tell me what I want to know.”
He instantly resumed his paced breathing, ignoring as he heard David walking away. Toward the counter. Marcus hid his sigh of relief, counting silently though his exhale. I can do this.
“They say that not being able to see where a blow comes from makes it more painful.”
Marcus was grateful for the blindfold as he heard something swish through the air and flinched, squeezing his eyes more tightly shut. Breathe through it. Breathe until it stops. I can-- The tap against his upper arm was light, quiet, and done with something more narrow than a baton. It took an effort to keep facing forward.
“Not ready to talk?” Thwack.
He wasn’t given any time to respond before a line of fire lit up his arm. Marcus stopped breathing and gritted his teeth as the pain sank in. Cane. Has to be. Fuck. Fuck! While whippings were the most common public punishment for transgressions, occasionally canings were meted out, too.
“That’s fine.” Thwack.
Marcus grimaced as a second line blazed across his arm directly below the first; he hadn’t caught his breath yet.
“I can wait.” Thwack.
At least punishments include the number of blows to come, his reeling brain offered unhelpfully. Marcus shuddered as his upper arm seared from the three strikes. Even his fingers hurt, right to the nail beds. Shit shit shit!
“Or you could end this.” Thwack.
Marcus groaned through his teeth as the next blow drove into his other arm.
Thwack.
He ducked his head, turned his face away as the fifth blow stole his breath from his lungs, forcing out a wheezy cry. His entire body wanted to curl up from the pain, as if that could save him. Tears beaded up on his lashes under the blindfold.
“Tell me.” Thwack.
Marcus bit down on his lower lip. I can’t. If I say anything, I’m dead. Was he bleeding? There was no way to feel anything but the pain. It throbbed, like a broken bone.
“It can be anything.” Thwack.
He gasped, then moaned. It felt like a knife had cut open the length of his thigh. Marcus started to tremble.
“A place.” Thwack.
Marcus’ stomach lurched as his other thigh lit up.
“A name.” Thwack. Thwack.
He wanted to swallow, but he couldn’t stop panting. Now he was grateful for the blindfold; he didn’t want to see his thighs split open. He leaned into the chest straps, unable to straighten up. Shaking broke out here and there, in his arms and legs, stoking the lines of fire slashed across his limbs. He groaned, feeling and not caring that he was drooling. He desperately did not want to be hit again. I can’t!
“Say it, and I’ll stop.”
The cane swished through the air, and though no blows landed, Marcus moaned.
“Should we switch to hitting bone?”
No. Marcus didn’t resist as his right fist was pried open, his palm pressed flat and held against the chair arm, trembling fingers splayed.
“Last chance.”
No no no...
“If I break you enough, they’ll kill you anyway, right?”
The cane came to rest across his knuckles. Not there! Marcus jerked against the straps, yelping as it made every cane stripe flare. Don’t!
“Why would they pay to fix you when you’re so easy to replace?”
At least the needle wouldn’t hurt. Or would it? It would be like AMTEC to make the consequences of a final failure hurt like any other punishment. I can’t. I need to breathe. I ca--
Thwack.
Marcus yelled and didn’t stop until he ran out of air.
...
“Oof. Not very pretty, is it? All those little bones, and under such thin skin...” David flexed the cane between his hands as he watched Marcus shudder under his restraints. “I hope that wasn’t your shooting hand.”
The levy gasped, then choked out a whimper. He shook his head again and again and again.
“Are you sure you don’t have anything to say?” He lowered the cane and gently gripped Marcus’ jaw, lifting until Marcus’ head was resting against the back of the chair. “Why go through more of this?”
His breathing hitched.
“Nothing? Alright.” David grinned and set his hand on Marcus’ left fist. “On we go, then.”
Marcus resisted having his fingers separated and his palm forced flat, but it wasn’t much of a fight. His lips were pressed bloodless to hold in a sob.
“Crying already?” He stood in front of Marcus and touched the side of the cane to levy's cheek.
He gasped and jerked away from the contact.
“Eyes front,” David ordered softly. He smiled as Marcus complied, slowly facing forward and cringing as it brought him back into contact with the cane. “Looks like you can keep your mouth shut. That’s your first test passed. Good boy.”
Marcus’ lip trembled before he could bite down on it.
“From this point forward, I’m going to expect this level of performance from you in all things.” He stroked Marcus’ cheek with the cane.
“Y...yes,” he replied, visibly struggling to get his breathing back under control, “Captain.”
“When I come to you in the future, you’ll have more to show me than you did in that cleaning closet.” He lowered the cane and rapped it against the metal of the chair, grinning when Marcus flinched. “Yes?”
Marcus shuddered, then gasped -- he’d tried to clench both hands into fists.
“You’re a special case, Lev, and we’re going to see more of each other after today.” He headed back to the counter. He used a spray and paper towels to wipe down the cane. “If you attempt to deny me in any way, I promise that you’ll be assigned another round of special training. Is that understood?”
“Y-yes, Captain.”
“Excellent.” David pulled open a drawer, plucked out the gag he needed, and retraced his steps to Marcus. “Open your mouth.”
Marcus sagged against the belts keeping him upright in the chair, his chin nearly resting on his chest.
“I gave you an order, lev.”
“Y...y-you...”
David’s smile widened into a grin as he watched Marcus struggle. He couldn't tell if Marcus was too afraid or in too much pain to think straight, and either worked for him. He gripped the blindfold and raised Marcus’ head, enjoying the little sounds he let out on each strained exhale. There was no rush; inside these walls, his authority was absolute. David gave the knot of the blindfold a twist, just to hear Marcus gasp.
“You said...I passed.”
“Did you think that meant that you could leave?” David wished he’d taken the blindfold off. He put his knee on the chair and slowly pushed it into Marcus’ groin.
“C-Captain--”
“We’re not done here until I’m sure you’ve absorbed every lesson I had you brought here to learn, little lev.” David fished the ring gag out of his pocket and tapped Marcus on the nose. “Open up.”
“Please,” Marcus breathed. Goosebumps coated his arms between leather straps and cane weals.
David gave the blindfold knot another twist. When Marcus cried out, he rammed the ring into his mouth, wedging it behind his teeth before grabbing the straps.
Marcus tried to pull away and smacked his head into the back of the chair.
David simply guided the straps around the headrest.
“‘Ahh!”
“Shhh,” he soothed, moving behind the chair to tighten and secure the gag strap. Once that was done, he circled around in front of Marcus, watching him alternate between struggling and wincing. “You’re a tough little thing, aren’t you, lev.” He stroked Marcus’ temple, then worked a finger under the blindfold and eased it up and off his head.
Marcus blinked against the light, his eyes flooded with tears. His eyes went wide as David leaned in close.
“You’ll need to be more than tough for what I want out of you,” David explained, grabbing a leather strap dangling from the headrest and laying it across Marcus’ forehead. “You’ll resist at first, and that’s fine.” He tightened and secured the strap, but didn’t back off. David ran a finger over Marcus’ lower lip.
He gasped and squeezed his eyes shut, breathing hard and fast.
“Such a shy boy.” He smirked and stuck his finger into Marcus’ mouth, stroking his teeth and tongue.
A soft groan of disgust snuck out as two fingertips mashed his tongue down. His eyes flew open as he gagged, but he stared straight ahead.
“Please,” David taunted, chuckling, “don’t pretend for my sake. Struggle, if you like. Scream, for all the good it will do you.” He scoffed and removed his fingers, swiping them dry on Marcus’ shirt before moving away. “You seem inexperienced with...swallowing.” David threw an amused look back over his shoulder. “Do I have that right, levy?”
Marcus coughed, but didn’t move; couldn’t move.
“With that gag in, you won’t be able to bite or spit. If you even tried, I’d activate your chip until you blacked out.” He rummaged through another drawer until he found the dildo he wanted, along with a coil of leather cordage. He shook out the cord as he walked back to Marcus. He stopped in front of him, letting him watch as he tied the cord around the flared base of the dildo. “This little guy is for an extra special bit of training I’ve wanted to give you since I first laid eyes on you. Can you guess what it is?” he asked, waggling the flaccid toy at Marcus with a smirk.
“Noh...”
“No?” David moved closer and tapped the head of the dildo against Marcus’ lower lip. “No you can’t guess?”
“‘E-ease noh.”
“If you stay calm and learn to be in command of that pesky gag reflex, you won’t suffocate.” He stared into Marcus’ wide brown eyes, watching the tears build as he struggled against the headstrap and gag. “Understand, little lev?”
“‘Ease,” Marcus begged, his good hand squeezed into a bloodless fist.
“Now, now, where’s that fighting spirit?” David worked the dangling ends of leather cord under the gag straps cutting across into Marcus’ cheeks. “This is only half of what I’ll need you to do.” He pushed the head slowly into Marcus’ mouth.
The leather straps keeping Marcus in the chair creaked as he struggled, crying out in pain and alarm.
“Shh. It’s not all at once. You can breathe.”
“‘Ease!” The word was partly muffled; the diameter of the shaft was a tight fit into the ring.
“Listen, little lev, or I’ll give you a zap to clean out your ears.”
Marcus’ eyes went wider still, tears running down his face.
“Relax and breathe,” David urged, eating up the revulsion and fear naked on Marcus’ face. “You’ll gag, but you won’t choke. Ready?”
Marcus sobbed, then gagged as the dildo filled more of his mouth.
“You can breathe.” He stared, lips parted as Marcus’ coughed, teary eyes narrowed. David tugged on the ends of the leather cord, eliminating the slack now that most of the dildo was in Marcus’ mouth. “Relax. Try to vomit and it’ll be coming out your nose.” He knotted off one cord at a time, securing it to the gag straps so Marcus wouldn’t be able to push out the dildo. “How will you breathe, then?”
Gagging made Marcus strain against the chest straps, again and again.
“You’ll get used to having your throat filled.” David sighed, content as he watched Marcus fighting to stop the waves of motion rolling through his body. “Fuck you look good like that, lev.” He cupped under Marcus’ chin, letting a fingertip lightly rest against his throat, needing to feel each attempt to retch. An ache pulsed in his cock at the thought of feeling Marcus struggle from the inside, hot and wet and squeezing. “Good boy. You’ll be capable of so much by the time I’m done with you.”
Marcus coughed between bouts of gagging, forcing drool out around the dildo.
“Shh. Breathe through your nose. Relax and take it.” David chuckled as Marcus’ frown deepened. “Good. Stay focused.” He let his hand fall away as the times between gagging lengthened. He palmed between Marcus’ legs instead, fondling gently through his boxers.
Marcus’ yell ended in a gurgle and sparked a fresh round of coughing and gagging.
“Mmm.” He worked a hand into Marcus’ boxers and started stroking. He smiled, knowing that each time Marcus squirmed his fresh cane weals would burn and throb. “Steady, lev. Let’s get you nice and warmed up...”
“Can you see anything, Levy Unit?”
You know I fucking can’t! “No, Captain.”
He's so MEAN, laying traps Marcus can't help but fall into, playing games he can't help but lose!!!
“It means I can’t, hnngh--” Marcus looked down, despite the blindfold, as fingers replaced the tablet, rubbing along the crotch seam on his pants. How is this training?!
How indeed?? I need to kill this man. *remembers it's canon that he gets promoted after this* dammit
“I can’t see any information on the display,” he said in a rush, tensed against the chair restraints as David continued to grope. Marcus inhaled sharply but didn’t cry out as heard and felt his fly being unzipped. Don’t. Not this.
“Good. Eyes front, Lev.”
He needs to die he needs to die he needs to diiiiieee
“I’m going to hurt you until you tell me what I want to know.”
Don't touch him!!!
“Tell me.” Thwack.
Marcus bit down on his lower lip. I can’t. If I say anything, I’m dead. Was he bleeding? There was no way to feel anything but the pain. It throbbed, like a broken bone.
He would be dead, they'd discard him as broken even though this is all USELESS.
“Last chance.”
No no no...
“If I break you enough, they’ll kill you anyway, right?”
This is SO fucking cruel. There is no right answer. Just pure mindfuckery.
“Why would they pay to fix you when you’re so easy to replace?”
At least the needle wouldn’t hurt. Or would it? It would be like AMTEC to make the consequences of a final failure hurt like any other punishment. I can’t. I need to breathe. I ca--
He means something. He DOES, he means something to himself and he'll mean something to Jake...
“Are you sure you don’t have anything to say?” He lowered the cane and gently gripped Marcus’ jaw, lifting until Marcus’ head was resting against the back of the chair. “Why go through more of this?”
His breathing hitched.
“Nothing? Alright.” David grinned and set his hand on Marcus’ left fist. “On we go, then.”
LEAVE HIM ALOOOOOOOONE
“From this point forward, I’m going to expect this level of performance from you in all things.” He stroked Marcus’ cheek with the cane.
“Y...yes,” he replied, visibly struggling to get his breathing back under control, “Captain.”
So evil, so cruel to do this much to him and then tell him to expect this again...
“When I come to you in the future, you’ll have more to show me than you did in that cleaning closet.” He lowered the cane and rapped it against the metal of the chair, grinning when Marcus flinched. “Yes?”
NOOOOOOOOO
“You said...I passed.”
“Did you think that meant that you could leave?” David wished he’d taken the blindfold off. He put his knee on the chair and slowly pushed it into Marcus’ groin.
“C-Captain--”
“We’re not done here until I’m sure you’ve absorbed every lesson I had you brought here to learn, little lev.” David fished the ring gag out of his pocket and tapped Marcus on the nose. “Open up.”
“Please,” Marcus breathed. Goosebumps coated his arms between leather straps and cane weals.
Marcus being so scared, in so much pain, that he would beg? He'll hate himself for this. He'll never let himself be this vulnerable again. Until the next time, at least.
“Please,” David taunted, chuckling, “don’t pretend for my sake. Struggle, if you like. Scream, for all the good it will do you.” He scoffed and removed his fingers, swiping them dry on Marcus’ shirt before moving away. “You seem inexperienced with...swallowing.” David threw an amused look back over his shoulder. “Do I have that right, levy?”
I'm going to kill himmmmm
“If you stay calm and learn to be in command of that pesky gag reflex, you won’t suffocate.” He stared into Marcus’ wide brown eyes, watching the tears build as he struggled against the headstrap and gag. “Understand, little lev?”
“‘Ease,” Marcus begged, his good hand squeezed into a bloodless fist.
Marcus... poor boy
“You’ll get used to having your throat filled.” David sighed, content as he watched Marcus fighting to stop the waves of motion rolling through his body. “Fuck you look good like that, lev.” He cupped under Marcus’ chin, letting a fingertip lightly rest against his throat, needing to feel each attempt to retch. An ache pulsed in his cock at the thought of feeling Marcus struggle from the inside, hot and wet and squeezing. “Good boy. You’ll be capable of so much by the time I’m done with you.”
Fuck OFF. Ahhhh Marcus. Salvation is years and years away.
“Shh. Breathe through your nose. Relax and take it.” David chuckled as Marcus’ frown deepened. “Good. Stay focused.” He let his hand fall away as the times between gagging lengthened. He palmed between Marcus’ legs instead, fondling gently through his boxers.
Marcus’ yell ended in a gurgle and sparked a fresh round of coughing and gagging.
“Mmm.” He worked a hand into Marcus’ boxers and started stroking. He smiled, knowing that each time Marcus squirmed his fresh cane weals would burn and throb. “Steady, lev. Let’s get you nice and warmed up...”
Look. Sometimes you've just got to tie up that protagonist, okay? Factually. It needs to happen. For character reasons. Let's watch how they squirm trying to escape. How their mind works when they can't rely on their body. Do they panic? do they charm? Do they go still? Is it an absolute breeze for them to escape, barely a hindrance? Or are they well and truly contained? How does their face change when they realize that? Does their stoic nature wash away? Turn to pleas and panic, knowing they can't help those they care about? Or do they turn animalistic, growling and snarling and wrenching at their restraints? Shouting threats, fighting with their words? Do they realize they may hurt themself in their struggles and stop or do they not care about that? What happens when you add a gag into the situation? Muffle their cries and threats into incoherent babble. Do they still try to speak or do they get quiet? Study how their mind works in such a situation and learn about them. ...and appreciate the squirming and noises that they make, along the way.
A collation of curios, a welter of words, a miscellany of misery! Collected masterlists of my fic.
Iesin & Talvos
A fae captured and systematically, brutally experimented on becomes the doorway to escape for his captor’s assistant, a quietly traumatized human who has never known freedom.
Set in Iesin and Talvos’ verse (links to same doc, look for Falconry Fae section), Serys is a fae captured and trained by a human to be a silent, obedient hunter.
Main tropes: dehumanization, forced mutism, occasional gore, food deprivation.
Fog and Furrow
Fern, a touch telepath kept by one of the agencies who care for and imprison nearly all Paths, learns to live as a person after their rescue from a sadistic handler, while struggling with the long-term effects of the agencies’ callous use of their mind.
Main tropes: institutionalized dehumanization, overstimulation, telepathy whump, mind control.
Elias and Colin
Set in the Fog and Furrow verse (links to same masterlist, look for Elias section) Elias is a damn good Path handler - and also a double agent for a kidnapping ring. Their Path, Colin, fights secret issues of his own while unaware that his readings are used to support the same kidnappers that the agency’s clients pay to use his talents against.
Main tropes: institutionalized dehumanization, telepathy whump, kidnapping, organized crime.
237599: Home Again
Peyton Montgomery had it all. Born to a staggeringly wealthy family, he was on the fast track to inherit a life of luxury and privilege. His disappearance changed everything. Twenty-seven months later, returning as a product of the WRU’s famed system, the human pet who answers to 237599 is forced to regain the memories taken from him by a family desperate to have him back.
Main tropes: box boy universe, pet whump, conditioned behavior and recovery from conditioning.
Lourdes: One of a Kind
The product of a secretive program deep within the bowels of WRU, 338947 is the latest pet produced by the Lourdes Program. Set in the same canon as 237599: Home Again.
Main tropes: box boy universe, pet whump, rape, dubious consent, exploring individuality, recovery from sexual trauma, sexual exploration as a means of healing, imperfect recovery, morally grey protagonist, serial killings, murder.
Platonic Ideal
Passed from house to house by a series of owners ranging from uncaring to incompetent to unkind to cruel, Platonic Companion - Medical Specialty boxie Matti endures the WRU system’s toll on his body and spirit with fewer and fewer hopes for the kindness and safety he was once promised. In the end, leaving is the easiest decision he’s ever made. It’s recovery that’s hard. Set in the same canon as 237599: Home Again.
Main tropes: chronic illness, box boy universe, pet whump, recovery.
Hollow-Point Intent
Five years ago, Cyril Moore - contracted tattoo artist to their fiancé’s family “business” and competitive sharpshooter - disappeared and was presumed dead. They didn’t dare hope they could return. When their wildest dream comes true and they find themself in their fiancé’s arms once more, it’s with the knowledge that there are things lurking under their skin they have no way to explain.
Main tropes: noncon body modification, disassociation, selectively mute character, transphobia, organized crime.
Rescued Living Weapon who only accepts treatment and caretaking when it's framed as necessary to improve their performance vs. Rescued Living Weapon who refuses treatment and caretaking to delay being back in working order as long as possible
(they both think their rescuers are going to use them to kill)
reblog and make a wish!
this was removed from tumbrl due to “violating one or more of Tumblr’s Community Guidelines”, but since my wish came true the first time, I’m putting it back. :)
holy fuck, I didn’t expect this to work, I was like psh, whatever it’s just a quick reblog, but I wished my Dad would actually respond back to me AND HE FUCKING DID A FEW DAYS LATER, I GOT A FUCKING TEXT FROM MY DAD TODAY WHO HASN’T SPOKEN OR RESPONDED TO ME IN MONTHS HOLY FUCK WHAT IS THIS MAGIC IT WORKS.
WTF OKAY SO THIS SHOT ACTUALLY WORKS BECAUSE WHEN I WISHED, I HAD WISHED MY CRUSH WOULD LIKE ME BACK AND GUESS WHAT? I HAVE A BOYFRIEND NOW. WHAT THE HELLLLL?????
ok I’ve said this before but IM DOING IT AGAIN THE FIRST TIME I SAW THIS, MY WISH DID COME TRUE SO I REBLOGED AGAIN AND SAID IT IN THE TAGS BUT THEN I WISHED FOR SMTH ELSE AND IT LITERALLY LITERALLY HAPPENED LIKE A COUPLE DAYS LATER WHAT THE HELL SO NOW IM WRITING THIS HERE FOR YOU BC I DONT BELIEVE IN THIS CRAP BUT STILL IT’S AN AWFULLY BIG COINCIDENCE
THE BOY I FELL I LOVE WITH LEFT TO TRAVEL THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WORLD AND HAS BEEN GONE NOW FOR 3 MONTHS. WE HAVENT SPOKEN SINCE BECAUSE I DIDNT WANT TO MAKE HIM FEEL TRAPPED TO ME AND NOT ENJOY HIS TIME SO I WAITED FOR HIM TO CONTACT ME FIRST. I SAW THIS ON A PARTICULARLY LOW DAY WHEN I WAS MISSING HIM SO MUCH I CRIED FROM THE PAIN, GUYS I REALLY LOVE HIM, SO I THOUGHT MEH WHAT THE FUCK, AND WISHED HE WOULD JUST LET ME KNOW HE WAS OKAY.
Weapons. Trained, tested, forged in steel and fire. Failure is an inevitability that ends in death. Pain should not be felt--it should be recognized, familiar, and inconsequential
Martyrs. In the form of servants and princes, of leaders and underdogs. If blood is necessary, the martyr will lift their hands and offer it all
Shields. Like tempering a sword, but only to bear and not to lash out. Wounds are medals--not symbols of pride, but symbols of worth. A pretty shield is useless; scars mean a job well done
Experiments. Raised on the cold comfort of a lab table. Restraints are only necessary when they're not in their right mind. Is it honorable, to be twisted beyond recognition? Or is it just a necessary evil?
Monsters. Cruelty, caution, and regarding one as a creature beyond reasonable thought is tempering in its own right. But if you keep a leash at the right length, perhaps the massecre won't reach you. One can hope.
Idols. Pretty face, pretty name, pretty hands around their shoulders and throat. There to seduce, manipulate, force any feeling to come to the surface and twist it to their favor. Any genuinity stays locked behind the guilded cage that surrounds their pretty little heart
Trophies. Status and wealth and the traditions that keep someone at their heels, on their knees, to display and serve and decorate one's ballroom.
Sacrifices. Drenched in honorable clothes, prepared and adored and cleansed. The gift of hope at the cost of one's life. Is it taken with no fight? How can you escape the ropes you were born in?
Hello I am wondering um 👀 do you have a masterlist for Isak and his tragic witch 👀 I would be very interested in reading EVERYTHING about them 👀
Hello new friend!!
Isak and Sain are in a WIP that is *checks outline* about 3 scenes from the end right now! I will be posting on that within a month or so, I hope (including seeking beta readers). Everything about them + their story, including a few Whumptober2025 fills, is currently collected on this blog in the Unnatural Means tag.
While I've got this post open, I should do as I've been intending to do and put the Whumptober2025 fills in order by when they happen in the story:
Story summary/pitch
Iron Rod fill: Witch-Confessor Isak confronts his prisoner, Sain, with implements of torture. Sain flirts back. (some NSFW)
“You’ve got a lot of nerve to dredge up all my fears”: Again Isak tries to convince the Sain to admit his crimes. Struggling with how much to make of their intimacy, he stumbles on where Sain’s most vulnerable.
"Would you even want me..?": When Isak is forced to torture his lover, Sain, which of them will be the one to break?
"I hope you see the sun someday in the darkness" : Sain can’t keep track of day or night while he’s imprisoned by the Witch-Confessors. (NSFW fill). Excerpts from a few different points in the story, including toward the end.
Not to get too far ahead of myself, but I have sequels planned. Much of them dealing with the aftermath of that whole torture-chamber deal. (And Isak throwing off his religious-inspired sexual repression, and a few magic spells that were fun to develop, and redemption arcs mixed with emotional angst.)
I often get asks about the relationship between servants and those they serve and how the relationship develops over time or what's appropriate between servant and employer at any given time. Many period dramas do get this right but a lot don't and send mixed signals to the audience about the true nature of the relationship between servant and employer.
There's a Strict Hierarchy
This is one inescapable concept that often gets forgotten in a lot of modern media. The relationship between servant and employer is a hierarchal one, the employer and servant are not on the same level socially.
Servants will always address their employer by their title or by sir/ma'am - at least in public and if there is any deviation of the rule, it's in private and only at the invitation of the employer themselves. Employers in turn would use the appropriate title for the servant in question (I outline these here). This done very well in Downton Abbey, especially when Tom marries into the family and they struggle with calling him 'Tom' rather than Branson.
A servant would never greet their employer informally or answer back. This is inaccurately portrayed in the exchange between Mrs Russell and Turner in The Gilded Age.
Servants would also not address their employer directly without being addressed first. This is very single meeting.
Servants would not walk in step with their employer or sit in their presence. They would walk two or three steps behind at all times and only sit when invited. They would not touch their employer without leave either. This is done well in Queen Charlotte, with Brimsley.
A servant would have to obey orders from another member of their employer's family or their guest but only within reason. This is shown in The Gilded Age the lady's maid Adelheid is borrowed by Mrs Russell from her daughter for a time when she fires her own maid.
Above and Beyond
Some employers might expect more from their servants that aren't exactly in the job description. It was understood in service that sometimes you would be asked to tackle things not in one's paygrade. In Queen Charlotte, Lady Danbury's maid Coral helps her lady lie about the death of Lord Danbury to allow her time to gather herself and appear more upset. For example:
A lady's maid might act as messenger between a pair of lovers.
A footman might lie to the mistress about the whereabouts of his master (with the master's approval of course)
A butler might procure some less than legal party favours for a bash his lord and lady are throwing.
A guardsman might aid their charge in escaping the house/palace for a night of fun.
No matter what, a servant is expected to go above and beyond without complaint. The response to "jump" should nearly always be "how high". However, if there is a strange or harmful request, a servant had recourse to ask a higher ranking servant or employer whether or not they should agree to the request.
That being said, servants are people at the end of the day and might have scruples. Often, servants were far more conservative than their employers but more often that not, they would swallow their morals to do the job that is needed. This is accurately portrayed in Downton Abbey when Mrs Bird complains about Mrs Crawley asking her to wait on Ethel, a former prostitute, leading to Mrs Crawley to dismiss her.
Bonding
Because some servants work closely with an employer, relationships often evolve between employer and servant. There must be a certain level of trust between servant and employer or else the house would fall apart. Bonds do form but these bonds don't interrupt the hierarchy or the professional relationship - at least in public. For example:
A lady's maid or a valet might act as confidant to their mistress/master, keeping their secrets. This is seen in Downton Abbey where Anna and Bates act as confidants with Lady Mary and Lord Grantham respectively.
A kitchen maid may slip the children of the house an odd treat in defiance of their parents or governess.
The staff might chip in for a gift for a beloved employer on an anniversary or special occasion.
The same is said for employers, who would also show favour by gift giving or promotion.
A loyal servant might be left some money on the death of their master/mistress.
A retiring lady's maid might be granted a gift from her mistress.
Employers might listen to the advice of their servants or servants may approach employers in times of difficulty. An employer might see a servant's child educated well or might pay a doctors bill, but these are kindnesses. Because there is a certain level of proximity, certain familiarities can grow but it is unlikely that either will consider it 'friendship' exactly.
Boundaries
However, there are boundaries between servant and employer. Even in cases of familiarity and good will, a servant and employer would not meddle in each other's affairs. For example:
A servant might dislike an employer's guest but would not refuse to serve or wait on them. This is depicted inaccurately in Downton Abbey's Christmas special, where the butler Stowel refuses to serve former chauffeur Tom Branson.
An employer in some eras could not deny a servant the right to get married.
A servant may be expected to be available at any given time and come running at the sound of the bell. But if a servant is on a day off or ill, an employer can't punish them for not being available when knowing beforehand they wouldn't be.
A good servant knows when they are needed and when to disappear. They should not linger if it is clear they shouldn't be here.
A servant might see their employer engaging in harmful or immoral behaviours but would not have the right to criticise or inform anybody.
A servant might be tasked with dealing with their employer in a state of undress (but this never crossed gender, a valet or a butler would handle a naked male employer and only a female servant would deal with a lady's intimates) and while seeing them in this state, would not look or make a big deal over it.
The professional boundary should not be breached on either side of the divide. A servant wouldn't approach an employer with personal issues nor would an employer welcome the servant's unauthorised counsel.
The Downsides
This is an uneven system most times and the employer does wield a lot of power. Servants are in this dynamic because they need to survive and provide a life for themselves so often they stick out bad situations rather than risk not being able to find a job again. Servants in some eras could be physically or verbally abused without recourse. Some servants often faced harassment and sexual assault from other staff, guests and/or employers. Servants desperate to keep their positions would often keep quiet about their circumstances in order to retain their place. This is accurately portrayed in Outlander: Blood of my Blood, with Mrs Porter and Julia, along with many other possible unnamed women and girls.
