Premise: Orion, a.k.a. Ri, just lost his mother. As the inheritor of her will he's neck deep in funeral plans, working with the executor of her will, and his own grief. The box boy she left behind is the furthest thing from Ri's mind. Until he isn't.
Content: BBU/box boy universe, pet whump, carewhumper, defiant whumpee, intimate whumper, occasional dub/noncon that I always tag and put in the content warnings, other content warnings listed as they apply.
In suggested reading order (approx. chronological):
Left Behind-Orion POV
Left Behind-Vince POV
Name
The Funeral
Slip Up-Holiday Special
Bonus Content:
Punching Bag (NSFWhump, dubcon)
Consolation Prize by @purru
Season's Beatings 2025 gift art of the boys by @honorary-fool
Oooh thank you for asking! This is a Tomorrow Series WIP wherein Orion's fling, who thought it was much more serious than he did, gets revenge by stealing his pet:
Vanessa sniffled a little before wiping her face and fixing her clothes. "Fuck," she muttered. "You're so pathetic."
The words were so familiar that Vince had to double check that they weren't meant for him. But Vanessa was staring into her compact, reapplying mascara that still smudged beneath her lash line.
Vince watched silently as a dejected Vanessa did the rounds, collecting stuff like her flat iron, toothbrush, extra jacket. Things that people with a life left behind.
RULES: make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous, and tag as many people as you have WIPs. People send an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and you post a snippet or tell them something about it!
Ahhhhh *covers hands over eyes*
The Magician’s Trap
Ice
Ideas
Invisible
Invisible 2
Royal Ideas
Royal
Royal 2
Statue
EC part 8
Idea
Protect
Wish Epilogue
Cursed Part 15
Cursed Part 16
Guardian Girl
Things that help me write
This list is brutal to see. Tags so you can suffer too (no, 17 is too many and yes, I do really want to see your work!): @jumpywhumpywriter @how-the-powerful-fall @f1shs-b0nes @bookshelf-for-stuff-i-wanna-read @bloodthirsty-squirrel @whumpninja @a-little-bit-of-whump-123 @surplus-of-sarcasm @kiichu @sacredwrath @piddlepog64 @enemieswbenefits
OOOOOH THANKS FOR THE TAG! This looks fun! (And also deeply humbling, because I am now forced to confront just how many WIPS I have going on behind the scenes right now XD)
*winces knowingly before adding my WIPS list here for everyone to see*:
Broken Hero vs Mind-reading Villain
Special lengthy series specifically for 🎀 anon (a secret project for now)
The Siren and the Little Girl
Emaciated Villain Used as Entertainment at a Hero's Party
Run, Human, RUN
Hero Kidnaps Villain
Beauty and The Freak
The Monster in the Black Room
Whumpee (Nico) Drugged for His Own Good
Immortal Deity Fights Mortal Human
Mysterious Villain spares Hero
Injured Sidekick -- Hero's apprenticeship with Other Supervillain backstory -- separate series
Injured Sidekick bonus scene (Medic)
Injured Sidekick bonus scene (Henchman)
Superhero x Rogue series (using characters from Injured Sidekick universe)
Villain's coffee shop bonus scene: how Villain discovered Mocha's superpower
Villain's coffee shop bonus scene: how Villain got his burn scars saving a life
Two Living Weapons
Whumpee kills Whumper
"Don't attack someone without knowing who their friends are" -- "Whumpee's secret"
Bully Whumper (prompt from another writer who didn't want to write it)
Villain memory loss
Antagonist's false victory -- "plot twist"
"Slave whumpee gifted to a royal" series
Villain experiences street justice
Whumper secretly scared of Whumpee
Hero's child with death-touch superpower
Rescued by a monster after car crash in the wilderness
Guard & captive Supervillain who breaks free
Quadriplegic hero
Misc Shadow scenes
Werewolf Hero
The Vampire King
Hero's evil twin, Villain
Villain pushes hero too far
Vampire hypnosis story continuation (anon request)
Overprotective villain x younger siblings who IS a hero and they sedate them and have to watch their sibling take over the world? LOVE UR WORK. BONUS POINTS IF THIS IS A VILLAIN FAMILY. (Anon request)
Terrifying Villain with addictive mind powers (requested by @doctorsawyer)
Rooftop hero x villain prompts list (anon request)
🐉 anon story requests (several of them are lurking in my inbox right now; I'll get around to writing them eventually)
Injured villain goes to the hero asking for their help (they've been getting closer together) but hero actually betrays them (anon request)
hero fights villain, but the first is already hurt from a previous battle, so they almost doesn't make it BUT a rival saves them and eventually ends up being their caretaker (anon request once more)
Blind whumpee comfort (anon request)
City Dragon
Purring vampire
Mercy killing
Mute, silent sidekick with slashed vocal cords
Sidekick's powers self-destruct
Child assassin with death touch powers
“You're not supposed to be able to see me”
Vampires & their reflections
Supervillain's daughter & hero
Poem fragments
Literally I am so swamped 😭 53 WIPS in total on this list, and that's just what I could easily find. There's definitely more hidden in my notes and documents that I didn't search for.
I have SOOOOOO much already written for all these WIPS, but none of those writing pieces are complete enough to post yet (or are just written completely out of order. I can't post chapter 5 without writing and posting chapter 4 first, you know? XD)
Here's tags for who I'm curious to see the insane amount of WIPS they have (@chaotic-orphan, I might have outdone you with how many WIPS I have XD)
First of all, @jumpywhumpywriter go to hell... I despise this. I hate seeing all of this, and these are only from my tumblr drafts and WIPs, god fucking damn it!!!
However, seeing how many of these are halfway finished, or almost complete does make me feel better ahahahaha, a lot of them are just sitting there waiting to be edited with cobwebs on them, lots of notes at the end of how to finish a particular scene/drabble/piece so, yes... ahem... lots of work to do I guess... better get on it... sorry, Jumpy, you got to be less organised and less regularly posting if you want to catch up to my level of WIP hell and chaos
Intoxicating fear
Remnants
Delirious villain x hero caretaker
Vendetta
Defiant Leader x confident villain
Golden Boy
Heroic betrayal
The stranger
The immortal Hunter
Semantics
Brook No Quarter [formerly Mulan Pirate Whump]
Villain’s gift
The hero and the infant
Partners in Crime
A Benignant Mischief
The heretic
Supervillain's brand
Fae whumper x human whumpee
Pathetic and Defeated
Civilian x Crush kidnapped
Work for me (from drafts, "FD")
You just can't (FD)
Hypnosis Villain ask (FD)
Steel Mill Blues (FD)
Vendetta random drabbles (FD)
Beg, part two (FD)
Concerned Villain (FD)
Whumper interrogation, mocks Whumpee during questioning, Angry Caretaker (Request from messages)
Beyond Death is Loyalty (FD)
Mortal x Vampire, wlw (FD)
SH Hero, shows up at Villain's door in the middle of the night seeking help because life is too hard and they're struggling (FD/request)
Angry, sui Whumpee rescued, and Caretaker who gets the brunt of their anger (FD)
Messed up Hero lets drink be spiked in bar, Villain realises and intervenes (FD/request)
Dying in Friend's arms (FD)
Civilian Healer trying to live normal life, Villain discovers their secret (FD/request)
A Way Out (FD)
Little Scholar (FD)
Villain Family Whump (FD)
Master Thief (FD)
Whumper's favourite lab rat (FD)
Whumptober no.21 body horror (FD)
Twisted Love, part two (FD)
King's perspective of Cosimo at beginning of ABM (FD/request)
Work whump, part one and part two (FD)
Rope burns (FD)
Kindred, part 2 (FD) - from here Macknus drafts/requests
Hypothetically (FD)
Defiance Squashed (FD)
A Space between the sea and the sky (FD)
Please, just stay down (FD)
Help me, or else (FD)
Still too dumb (FD)
Gut wrenching memories (FD)
Other Ways (FD)
More trouble than you're worth (FD)
Monstrous Love (FD)
Bravery is a choice (FD)
Need a hand? (FD)
Please don't cry, lamb to slaughter, ceremony, beg for forgiveness (FD)
Royalties (FD)
Relentless (FD)
"I won't help you" (FD)
There will be peace (FD)
Defiant Whumpee (FD)
Betrayal (FD)
Magic school whump (FD) - ugh I love this one gotta get back on it
We all want to be saved (FD)
Obsessed Villain x Civilian (FD)
Dialogue Snippet (FD)
Villain x civilian (FD)
A thank you gift (FD)
Continuation of child x vampire (FD)
No pressure to those tagged <3 but I did suffer a lot so...
@whumplicity @b0amagination @bedtimescenarios @barbarianwomon @whumblr @whumpasaurus101 @whumble-beeee @neon-kazoo @assortedcriminality @moonfall-wreckage @writinggremln @yet-how-they-creep @theloveofwhump @painsandconfusion @pvtashby @mj-iza-writer @lovelizards (...um... instead of seventy-two people, how about we reverse the number to 27, and then take away 10?... 72 is a lot of people and I have a small number of people who put up with my antics, but I am a superfan of a lot more but I don't want to bother them and please? Forgive me?)
Aw thank you lovely. I now know I'm a coward. I played this game on my main blog and only shared like four of mine. Which is not indicative of the true number. So here we go. Maximum effort.
Hidden injury
Deep sleep
My house
Lost limb
Came back wrong
No flinching
Chained
Whumper turned whumpee
Failed escape
A wager
Appendicitis
Break up/pet theft
And then a whole fuck ton of saved prompts. Some with notes some without.
Whumpril 2026 alt prompt Blood in the Water hosted by @whumpril
Content: character death, cuts, kidnapping, torture/interrogation(mostly just referenced), self sacrifice
Word count: 1,326
Masterlist | Next
Once Hero saw the pattern, he couldn't unsee it. He stood over his desk, hands braced on the edge with white knuckles as he scanned the case file laid out before him. He slammed his fists down, shaking the desk and sending pens rattling.
He had to get ahold of Mentor.
"Pick up! Damn you old man," Wilder hissed into the reciever as the call went unanswered for the fourth time. He turned sharply towards his closet and scrambled into his hero outfit.
Wilder was about a week into a case for the police and the Agency. Someone was picking off retired heroes, despite the Agency's assitance in giving them privacy and anonymity. Most of his week had been spent at grisly crime scenes or pouring over Agency files. It was only moments ago that he had seen the connection, the thin red line tying all the violence to a purpose.
The dead heroes all worked a case together, years back, to rescue a kid with chameleon powers from villainous hands. The kid hadn't made it. It was one of Mentor's greatest regrets, one of the reasons he'd turn to a bottle on dark nights.
But every hero had stories similar to that one. What made Wilder's blood run cold was the fact that Mentor was the last remaining member of the hero team.
And he wasn't answering his phone.
Wilder raced across town, heart pounding in his throat.
When he arrived at Mentor's home, he froze. The door hung off its hinges, ajar, the sight twisting deep in Wilder's gut.
Stealthily, Wilder entered the home. The entryway opened on a living room and you could see part of the kitchen through an archway. Broken furniture and shards of glass were strewn throughout the entire place, making it hard to avoid making noise.
Wilder winced as his foot crackled on a piece of glass, pressing it into the tile. A flash of shadow caught his eye and he swung towards the stairway, falling into a fighting stance. His ragged breathing sounded too loud in his ears.
Wilder registered a presence behind him before arms were wrapping around his torso. He cried out, startled, and jerked in the grip, unsuccessful in freeing his pinned arms. Wilder tried to slam his head back but missed his assailant's face. His legs flailed up, giving the entirety of his weight to his assailant and causing them to stumble backwards. They crashed to the ground, Wilder rolling off and scrambling for footing.
Legs swung out colliding into Wilder's ankles knocking him down. Glass shards met skin, a wet warmth telling him that the landing had drawn blood. But his healing factor was already knitting the skin closed, the sting intensifying briefly.
The assailant jumped on Wilder's back, a knee digging between his shoulder blades. His hands were yanked behind him, cuffs clicking shut on both of his wrists. He shuddered as he felt his power recoil into the depths of his being, newly inaccessible. Power suppressant cuffs.
Wilder renewed his efforts to buck off the assailant but their knee ground down into his back. With a groan of pain he settled, switching tactics. He'd have to bide his time.
The assailant grabbed his collar and dragged him towards the stairs, heedless of the debris slicing into Wilder's skin. He grit his teeth and tried to get his feet under him but the other person was having none of it, keeping him off balance and struggling.
They descended the stairs into the basement. Wilder was deposited on his knees, dropped like a sack of potatoes. The assailant buried a hand in his hair and yanked his head up.
Before him stood the supervillain Bliss and at her feet, mirroring Wilder's position, was Mentor. Wilder bit his tongue but his eyes scanned Mentor for injury. They looked worse for wear but nothing life threatening. Their skin was mottled with bruises and their face was puffy and swollen. Someone had beaten them.
Bliss stood with one hand in Mentor's hair and the other trailing up and down the expanse of their throat. Wilder swallowed the lump growing in his throat. For Bliss, with her poisonous powers, it was her equivalent of a knife to the throat.
"Sideshow, eh? How nice of you to join us, little hero," Bliss greeted in her sultry voice. "Me and Mentor here were just discusssing your little Agency."
"Oh?" Wilder grunted, raising a thick unimpressed eyebrow.
"I will admit," Bliss pouted, "that he doesn't know what I need to know. So disappointing." With a sigh, she released their hair and Mentor collapsed to the concrete floor in a heap.
Wilder jerked in the arms holding him, eyes glued to the person that was like a parent to him. Mentor's eyes were foggy as they met Wilder's. They minutely shook their head, a warning. But they fell limp again before Wilder could parse what was in their eyes.
"And what," Wilder bit out, "do you need to know so badly to warrant all of this?" He couldn't gesture with his hands but he nodded vaguely. This whole case was flooded with blood not to mention the mess Mentor's house had been reduced to.
Bliss considered him, brown eyes deep enough to drown in, like a sinkhole. "Okay, little hero. What do you know of Mage's Project Circus?"
Wilder frowned and shook his head. Mage was the hero that founded and ran the Agency. But he'd never heard of the project. "I- nothing."
"Tsk, tsk, and here I thought you were going to be entertaining," Bliss sighed. She pierced him with a gaze. "Guess I'll just take it out on Mentor here." Her fingers trailed up Mentor's neck but this time red blisters popped up in the wake. Mentor shuddered in pain.
"Stop!" Wilder gasped out, horrified.
Bliss tilted her head. "But you don't know anything. And neither does he." Her hand settled over Mentor's throat and their breathing stopped, stuck under whatever effect Bliss had chosen. Wilder struggled, watching helplessly as Mentor's lips grew blue.
"Stop! Please! I'll do anything!" Wilder promised, voice breaking and eyes fixed on Mentor's.
Mentor whined out a protest. But Bliss paused, head tilting in that graceful way of hers considering Wilder. "Anything?"
Wilder's heart stuttered in his chest, fear coiling tight. But he managed a nod even as Mentor shook his head weakly.
A sinister smile curled over Bliss' lips. "Alright, Sideshow. Anything it is."
She snapped Mentor's neck, letting his body tumble to the floor.
Wilder froze, ears roaring. Tension ratcheted through his shoulders and a helpless indignant protest sounded in the back of his throat.
Bliss stalked forward and placed a hot hand to his cheek. His skin buzzed as her power flowed through him at the touch. The world grew foggy, his head spinning. The hand in his hair finally released him and he collapsed to the floor next to Mentor.
The last thing Wilder saw as unconsciousness encroached was Mentor's blank eyes and tortured skin. Then the world slipped away to darkness.
Supervillain watched as Sideshow's eyes rolled back into his head, the protests dying on his lips.
"Get him in the car," she commanded, her henchman snapping to action.
Bliss pulled her phone out, tapping the familiar number.
"Yes?" came the voice at the other end.
"Sideshow doesn't know a thing. It was really rather pathetic."
The other made a noise in acknowledgement. "And Mentor?"
"Dead. That's everyone on your list. I expect the second half of our deal fulfilled."
"Yes, yes, Bliss. Just run the tests. I need his blood."
Bliss rolled her eyes. Heroes. "Yes, you'll get your precious DNA from Sideshow. I keep my bargains. Just make sure you keep yours."
"Good."
The call clicked to empty silence.
Bliss glanced down at the ended call on her screen, Mage's number still displayed across the top. The supervillain was glad this tentative alliance would be over soon.
Borders by @pixopix
Let me know if you'd like to be added or removed here.
For the second round of the @whumpgiftswap event! Written for @moonfall-wreckage <3
Sorry this is posted kinda late! There was some very severe weather earlier that made it difficult to get this out. Also I am learning I am not very good at writing comfort in whump so sorry about that! I hope you like it!
Whumpee struggled against their chains, despite knowing how futile it was. They were so weak, so tired. They had been here for a while now, though how long, they couldn't tell. Day and night are pretty much the same when you're locked in a windowless dungeon.
No matter how long it had actually been, Whumpee found themself completely unable to accept their current situation. They were a royal, meant to be loved, respected, and worshipped by all, not locked up and kept in some cold, dark dungeon all alone. Chained, gagged, and even collared, with some metal "collar" mostly used for dragging them around. They deserved so much better than this. The thought of how they must look right now disgusted them.
Now they were considered nothing but a food source for some lowly vampire, and even worse, a pet. Or at least that's what they were now called. They no longer even had the dignity of being called their own name. This entire situation was simply unbelievable.
It was just so absurd. Whumpee, a respected royal with an entire army meant to be protecting them and their entire family, was somehow kidnapped and enslaved by Whumper, a vampire, a filthy disgusting creature with only a handful of their fellow vampire minions by their side. How could this have happened?
On top of that, how was it taking so long for anyone to find them? They were royalty. Surely the entire Kingdom was out looking for them. Where in the world could this place possibly be that they hadn't been found already?
They would be eventually. Of course they would. They had to be. There's no way they would be forgotten. Even if they themselves had forgotten their own name, the rest of the Kingdom must remember it. Must remember them. Right? They just had to wait a little longer. Right... Just a little longer. It couldn't be much more now.
They wouldn't have to endure this much longer. Surely. Being drained of their blood almost every day, being locked in this cold dark room, being fed scraps unfit even for someone of a lesser status. It would all be over soon. They just had to hold on. Be strong, as a royal should be.
The familiar sound of the dungeon door opening snapped Whumpee out of their thoughts, and their sudden descent into near hopelessness turned back into their usual rage. Even though they new it was going to be Whumper, as it always was, they still felt a bit of sorrow when they actually saw Whumper. A part of them had been hoping it would finally be their knights, their family, someone, anyone, finally coming to save them from this nightmare.
Whumper smiled as they approached. "Hey there, Pet. I'm feeling hungry again. You're looking a little better than the last time I saw you."
Whumpee strained against their chains and growled angrily against the gag, the muffled sound only seeming to widen the smile on Whumper's face.
"Still fighting, hm? I admire the persistence, I really do." Whumper gently stroked Whumpee's cheek, almost mocking them. This only caused them to struggle harder. Whumper let out a small laugh. "Truly, my favorite thing about you. But you really should stop. You don't want to hurt yourself, now, do you?"
Whumpee glared angrily, the only true act of defiance they had left outside of their pointless struggles.
"Oh, that's right. I forgot, you prefer to speak. Let's fix that, shall we?" Whumper reached around Whumpee's head to remove the gag. The moment it was off, Whumpee spat at them.
"You seem to think so highly of yourself. When my Kingdom finds me, they're going to kill you. You know that, right? You'll never survive what they'll do to you!" Whumpee replied angrily, trying to keep their voice steady, and ignoring the slight shake in it. They hoped Whumper couldn't tell.
Whumper only laughed. "Oh, Whumpee. They're never going to find you. I keep telling you this."
"Of course they are. I'm royalty!" Whumpee shouted. "Everyone in the Kingdom is looking for me! They must be!"
Whumper's smile turned to one of mock pity. "Oh, Pet. They really aren't."
"How could you possibly know that? There's no way a royal just disappears without people caring!"
"Perhaps it's time I finally told you. I've been wondering how this news might affect your persistence to get out... Hopefully it doesn't erase it entirely." Whumper said, their expression now one of amusement.
Whumpee's angry expression didn't change. "What news? What in the world are you on about?"
Whumper reached forward to grab Wumpee's chin. Whumpee resisted, but Whumper's grip tightened in a way that told Whumpee it was best if they just kept still. They were both looking each other dead in the eyes, and Whumpee couldn't help the fear and uneasiness that followed.
"Be honest with yourself, Whumpee. Why do you think no one has found you yet? If so many people are looking, like you say, then why haven't they found you?"
Whumpee kept silent. They didn't have an answer, not really.
"Nobody is looking for you because they all think you're dead." Whumper paused to watch Whumpee's expression, their anger clearly returning, before continuing on. "They all think you're dead, because the King let me have you. And he's gone to great lengths to ensure this lie is believed by everyone. They even had a funeral."
Whumpee tried to hide the look of shock on their face, but from Whumper's expression they could tell they weren't succeeding. After a moment of silence, Whumpee spoke.
"I... No, you're lying! Of course you are. There's no way that's true, any of it!"
But Whumpee had their doubts. Would the King truly do that to them? They were never close, but Whumpee hadn't known the King to be cruel. But what other reason would there be for not being found? Surely this location couldn't be hidden that well. Could Whumper really be telling the truth? "I... I don't believe you!"
Whumper finally let go of Whumpee's chin. "It doesn't really matter if you believe me or not. It doesn't change your situation either way. You're still mine, and you always will be."
"But, why-" Whumpee was interrupted immediately.
"I've grown tired of this chat, Pet. Perhaps we'll continue this conversation another time." Whumper grabbed the gag again, beginning to fasten it back in it's place around Whumpee's face.
"I - Wait!"
Whumper ignored them, successfully locking it securely in place. They moved their mouth closer to Whumpee's exposed shoulder. "I've got things I need to do, and I'm hungry. So for now, just stay still and be good, and maybe I'll answer your questions later."
I absolutely love it! Your first sentence is one of my favorites. Just something about the flow *chef's kiss*
The moments where Whumper moves the gag have me in a chokehold! Whumpee is so humiliated and to not even have their voice as their own! Assfjjfdsssdgghjj!!
You can really see Whumpee splinter as Whumper breaks the news to them (or lies). And after fighting so hard.
I had a lot of fun writing this one! Hope you enjoy!
The Cost of Obsession
Whumpee woke up tied to a bed. Their head pounded and throbbed, the scent of chemicals cloying in the back of their throat. In contrast, the sheets under them smelled foreign, all spice and wood instead of their favoured rain scent. Thick leather straps wrapped around each wrist, each ankle, forcing them spread eagle. They felt so exposed, unable to defend themselves or even curl up protectively. Pulling at the leather straps exposed zero give and whumpee huffed in frustration as their skin chaffed against the tight bindings.
"Morning, darling."
Whumpee startled, flinching hard enough that the straps made a snapping sound. Their eyes shot to Whumper leaning against the wall in the corner, all languid confidence. Whumpee's heart stuttered at the sight of them.
"Whumper? What—? I don't—"
"Shh," Whumper hushed in a soothing voice, stepping close to their feet and placing a palm on their leg, warm even through their jeans. "It's okay, I've got you."
Whumpee began trembling under their touch. But not just from the fear. Their brain struggled to form the questions and the objections that they desperately needed to voice.
"I was starting to worry that I overdosed you," Whumper hummed, amused. "I'm glad you're finally awake. I've been thinking about you for hours." Whumper climbed slowly and gracefully onto the foot of the bed, hovering above Whumpee's prone form.
"Easy," Whumper soothed, brushing a gentle hand across Whumpee's hip where their shirt had ridden up in their struggles. "Don't be scared. I know how badly you want this. I'll be gentle."
A pathetic sound slipped past the lump growing in Whumpee's throat. Of course they had wanted Whumper. They were gorgeous and intoxicating and so confident. They had drawn Whumpee in the first time they'd met, Whumpee circling them like they were the sun.
But this? No.
"I- I don't want this," Whumpee rasped.
"Oh, darling. I know how hard it is to ask for things we want." Whumper leaned up and kissed at the tears slipping down Whumpee's cheeks. "This will be worth it."
Then Whumper was claiming their lips in a deep kiss, tongue slipping past lips into Whumpee's mouth. A hand snaked down and brushed against whumpee's inner thigh. Whumpee couldn't stop the sound that left them, mortified and too many other things.
Whumper chuckled. "See? I know you want me. Since the first moment your eyes met mine, it was written all over your adorable face."
"No, I—" Whumpee was cut off by a whimper as Whumper burried their face in Whumpee's neck, nipping and sucking.
Whumper's lips found their ear, hot breath sending chills down whumpee's skin in waves. "You're going to remember this—me—forever. I'm going to make sure of it," they promised before shoving their tongue into Whumpee's ear.
Whumpee let out a strangled sound, trying to twist away. Whumper grabbed their chin and forced them closer, tongue moving down their jaw to their neck. "God, you taste amazing. I knew you would."
"Please, stop. I can't— Please, I just—" Whumpee stumbled over the words, heart racing as Whumper continued the gentle but inescapable ministrations.
"I've got you now, Whumpee. You don't have to worry about a thing." Whumper straightened, revealing their flushing face and heaving chest. Then a pocket knife appeared in their hand.
Whumpee gasped and yanked against their restraints, fear freezing cold in their gut. Slowly Whumper brought the knife to Whumpee's shirt and dragged it down the length, splitting fabric and skin alike.
"Agh," Whumpee groaned out, twisting from the pain. "Stop!"
"Sorry, precious. Blood just makes it so much more delicious. It'll be over soon." Whumper smiled, almost comfortingly, down at them as they moved on to Whumpee's pants. Soon Whumpee was bare, new cuts stinging along their skin. "No need to cry, love."
Whumpee managed a small glare. "H-hurts," they whimpered.
"Oh, love, I could just eat you up." Whumper kissed their tears away again, lips soft and warm. And the worst part was, it wasn't the first time Whumper had said it. But it was the first time Whumpee believed it. "Maybe if you're good, I'll do just that." They giggled, pulling back just far enough to take in Whumpee's tear streaked face.
Then their hands were everywhere, stroking and brushing, excruciatingly tender as Whumpee trembled beneath them. The blood smeared like Whumpee was just a canvas for Whumper to use, the scent metallic in the air mingling with sweat and arousal, filling Whumpee's senses. Their words dried up on their tongue as Whumper whispered sweet nothings into their hair, their skin, the charged space between them.
Whumpee was messy with both of their cum when Whumper finally slumped down, cuddling against their side. Fingers skimmed bare skin and Whumpee shivered, too weak to pull away and nowhere to go.
"That was so beautiful, Whumpee," Whumper whispered, voice soft and sincere.
Whumpee swallowed around the lump in their throat, the tears dried up. They felt far away and stuck at the same time.
"When I first found you," Whumper whispered conspiratorially, "I just knew I had to have you. But then Caretaker introduced us and you saw me for the first time." Whumper's fingers carded through Whumpee's hair. "The look you gave me! Like I was the whole world. God, Whumpee, you're so perfect!"
Whumpee squeezed their eyes shut against the words. Shit, was this all their fault?
"Are you ready to get cleaned up, love?" Whumper whispered into their hair. They gently released the restraints one by one. Whumpee thought about attacking. They willed themselves to do something. But they were too numb, the world something distant and filmy.
Whumper led them to the attached bathroom, starting a bath. They eased Whumpee down into the water, wounds stinging but soothed all the same. Whumper went over every inch of Whumpee's body, nothing left to themself. The touch was the same as it had been earlier, all gentle yet undeniable. There was an edge behind Whumper's softness that Whumpee sensed would cut them to pieces if provoked.
So they didn't fight as Whumper laid claim to them.
And Whumpee knew, no matter how much either of them scrubbed, they would never feel clean again.
Feeling inspired to do a hero whump series during Whumpril that I've been mulling on for a little while.
Premise: Hero tracks down a Supervillain that is killing retired heroes and finds out abruptly that he's taken on more than he can chew when it's revealed the Supervillain just wanted Hero.
Interact with this post if you want to be on the taglist, lovelies! I'll be publishing thru my writing blog @moonfall-wreckage.
Feeling inspired to do a hero whump series during Whumpril that I've been mulling on for a little while.
Premise: Hero tracks down a Supervillain that is killing retired heroes and finds out abruptly that he's taken on more than he can chew when it's revealed the Supervillain just wanted Hero.
Interact with this post if you want to be on the taglist, lovelies! I'll be publishing thru my writing blog @moonfall-wreckage.
Feeling inspired to do a hero whump series during Whumpril that I've been mulling on for a little while.
Premise: Hero tracks down a Supervillain that is killing retired heroes and finds out abruptly that he's taken on more than he can chew when it's revealed the Supervillain just wanted Hero.
Interact with this post if you want to be on the taglist, lovelies! I'll be publishing thru my writing blog @moonfall-wreckage.
The showgirl tied her hair into two french braids. Letting their length trail over her chest. Allowing for momentary coverage and completing her stage look.
It was a bit atypical for the soft bedroom look, her faded makeup suggested, but she would make it work.
The announcer was beginning their introductory speech. Overzealous but pleasantly short.
Whumpee couldn't help but be a little excited. Despite being forced into this sinful predicament.
Soft hands and sharp teeth, you heard it here, folks! The one, the only burlesque show doing it like this. May I introduce…your lovely lady.
Whumpee smiled with practiced ease, noting the crowd was rather full tonight. A hundred or so vampires. Maybe a little fewer, modern imitations of vampires had begun to appear…
Whumpee shuddered on point, exaggerating classic fear responses. She made sure to lift her skirts high and balled them in her fists before trotting across the stage. Fake passing out when the music became erratic.
A slush of vocalizations from the crowd showed her that they must like the peek-a-boo trick she'd devised. Though only her upper knees were primarily exposed. She was still in her camisole.
'Time to drop the knickers.' She thought nervously but pushed it down with a swallow.
This, this part where the music did its first swell, where the luminescent lights flickered overhead. This was where her heart dropped.
Bringing herself to her knees, titling her head back, she teased at the zipper with gloved hands. The parlor lights were a bright orange that made her silver outfit appear as liquid fire.
The chatty gentleman drunkenly laughed. Louder than the carefully arranged music. Meant to inspire infatuation. A cord piece with little lyrics.
She tugged her zipper down, standing with a flourish. Spinning around, bending at the waist. Letting the garment fall to the floor.
Somewhere in the haze of it all, she had thrown her gloves at the chatty gentleman. Funny for the audience, but she was sure they got the memo. Keep quiet!
Stepping out of it, she bent forward more, spreading her legs as she went, distracting from picking up her camisole while the lights dimmed down impossibly lower. Zeroing in on her just as she turned on the beat again.
Her pastes weren't anything fancy. Just white hearts, that was a nod to previous performances. The bar regulars whooped appreciatively. Calling her their heart girl. She flashed a seductive smile in their general direction.
The lights were always too bright at this part for her. She stayed stead-fast. Her reward, respite, and reason for sinning were on its way. Reprieve of intoxication.
She traced sinuous patterns over her body, allowing her naked chest to do the talking. Through the throng of supernaturals, she found her mark.
A shy woman about her age appearance. Though, being fae, she was sure she had no reason to judge the vampire she was prowling towards. Age was just a number with a face of youth.
Taking her shoes off slowly while the music began to close out, she made sure to throw the garters to the crowd. Letting the improper behavior climax.
The lovely vampire looked up, eyes gleaming. Fangs bared.
Whumpee made sure to offer her thigh up, allowing the other lady to pull it down a generous amount before helping her by tugging it off in an appealing way.
Without a word exchanged, the lady sunk her fangs through the flesh. Penetrating a superficial vein.
The lights became pitch black. Whumpee could no longer see. But the vampires could.
Terror entwined with pleasure. The woman laughed, cheered on by spectators. Drinking sloppily, allowing blood to cascade down onto Whumpee's gown.
The fae senses began to fade, blood loss taking hold. She steeled herself. Trying to pull away. Every showgirl knew what happened for passing out on the floor.
The master would allow the crowd to tear you apart in a frenzy. Hunger and lustful instincts driving the punishment.
Whumpee was grabbed roughly from the back. Waist snatched by the lady's companion. Their tall form towering over them both.
"Let's go. I do not wish to indulge so freely. We can catch her after the show. With a performance like that, she's no starlet." The male seethed, a jealous tone cascading his words.
Whumpee took the insult, grateful for an escape route. She was getting way too dizzy. She needed to step down. She couldn't even make out the man's features.
"I'll see you after the show, my lord. You needn't call." Whumpee's breathless voice dropped husky. Hoping to entice further vices from surrounding patrons.
Private rooms were where the money was really made.
After all, it was hard to tip when your hands were busy. It's a terrible thing indeed.
"I like this one," The woman's inviting tone flooded Whumpee's senses.
Venom compelling Whumpee with urges.
Patrons a plenty had strong venom, but none like this. Was she a fledgling? Vampire or not, this venom was beyond her.
The lights were on again, but dim. Whumpee realized she'd let a strange man hold her for entirely too long.
As if reading her thoughts, man released her waist, allowing her to step down.
The patrons were so clothed. Even wearing thick winter coats and beanies. She felt ashamed to be so nude. Though the lady was throwing an appreciative eye on her chest.
"I'll meet you at the lobby thirty minutes after the show. By the spiral stairs." The vampire woman said. Straight to her chest.
Author's note: I write in Ellipsus, so when I transferred via copy & and paste, the formatting got slightly wonky. I did my best to fix it but I'm sure there's some mistakes. 😟
AaaaAAAAaaaaHHHHHhhhhasdfgbnhfddsdvb so lovely! The tension is so thick! I love the detail that her fae senses fade with bloodloss. The interaction between whumpy, the woman, and her male companion is sooooo goooood! There's so much there with the characters!
I have some "out-takes" of sorts I can send you if you want 🙂 they're primarily whumpee focused. Such as her in her dressing room. Things I cut but liked the idea of 😊
⚠️ Forced Situations, This part isn't strictly 18+ but the whole story above is, humiliation
Whumpee traced bruising fang marks with a wince. Fresh blood pouring down her throat.
The memory not even processed yet. It had been three hours. She should be preparing for another show.
The plaza was the big event everyone was looking forward to. But she preferred parlor bars.
Maybe she wasn't destined to be a starlet. Just like the woman's male companion had said.
She yelped, applying a faux vampire cream along her neck. Face tinted golden from the lights in the dressing room. Trying to pull herself from her thoughts.
She hoped this cream worked like the real thing. She didn't want to be branded as a thrall performing. That would ruin her performance reputation.
She was already a slave! The little differences mattered... she hoped to keep some shred of diginity.
The showgirl tied her hair into two french braids. Letting their length trail over her chest. Allowing for momentary coverage and completing her stage look.
It was a bit atypical for the soft bedroom look, her faded makeup suggested, but she would make it work.
The announcer was beginning their introductory speech. Overzealous but pleasantly short.
Whumpee couldn't help but be a little excited. Despite being forced into this sinful predicament.
Soft hands and sharp teeth, you heard it here, folks! The one, the only burlesque show doing it like this. May I introduce…your lovely lady.
Whumpee smiled with practiced ease, noting the crowd was rather full tonight. A hundred or so vampires. Maybe a little fewer, modern imitations of vampires had begun to appear…
Whumpee shuddered on point, exaggerating classic fear responses. She made sure to lift her skirts high and balled them in her fists before trotting across the stage. Fake passing out when the music became erratic.
A slush of vocalizations from the crowd showed her that they must like the peek-a-boo trick she'd devised. Though only her upper knees were primarily exposed. She was still in her camisole.
'Time to drop the knickers.' She thought nervously but pushed it down with a swallow.
This, this part where the music did its first swell, where the luminescent lights flickered overhead. This was where her heart dropped.
Bringing herself to her knees, titling her head back, she teased at the zipper with gloved hands. The parlor lights were a bright orange that made her silver outfit appear as liquid fire.
The chatty gentleman drunkenly laughed. Louder than the carefully arranged music. Meant to inspire infatuation. A cord piece with little lyrics.
She tugged her zipper down, standing with a flourish. Spinning around, bending at the waist. Letting the garment fall to the floor.
Somewhere in the haze of it all, she had thrown her gloves at the chatty gentleman. Funny for the audience, but she was sure they got the memo. Keep quiet!
Stepping out of it, she bent forward more, spreading her legs as she went, distracting from picking up her camisole while the lights dimmed down impossibly lower. Zeroing in on her just as she turned on the beat again.
Her pastes weren't anything fancy. Just white hearts, that was a nod to previous performances. The bar regulars whooped appreciatively. Calling her their heart girl. She flashed a seductive smile in their general direction.
The lights were always too bright at this part for her. She stayed stead-fast. Her reward, respite, and reason for sinning were on its way. Reprieve of intoxication.
She traced sinuous patterns over her body, allowing her naked chest to do the talking. Through the throng of supernaturals, she found her mark.
A shy woman about her age appearance. Though, being fae, she was sure she had no reason to judge the vampire she was prowling towards. Age was just a number with a face of youth.
Taking her shoes off slowly while the music began to close out, she made sure to throw the garters to the crowd. Letting the improper behavior climax.
The lovely vampire looked up, eyes gleaming. Fangs bared.
Whumpee made sure to offer her thigh up, allowing the other lady to pull it down a generous amount before helping her by tugging it off in an appealing way.
Without a word exchanged, the lady sunk her fangs through the flesh. Penetrating a superficial vein.
The lights became pitch black. Whumpee could no longer see. But the vampires could.
Terror entwined with pleasure. The woman laughed, cheered on by spectators. Drinking sloppily, allowing blood to cascade down onto Whumpee's gown.
The fae senses began to fade, blood loss taking hold. She steeled herself. Trying to pull away. Every showgirl knew what happened for passing out on the floor.
The master would allow the crowd to tear you apart in a frenzy. Hunger and lustful instincts driving the punishment.
Whumpee was grabbed roughly from the back. Waist snatched by the lady's companion. Their tall form towering over them both.
"Let's go. I do not wish to indulge so freely. We can catch her after the show. With a performance like that, she's no starlet." The male seethed, a jealous tone cascading his words.
Whumpee took the insult, grateful for an escape route. She was getting way too dizzy. She needed to step down. She couldn't even make out the man's features.
"I'll see you after the show, my lord. You needn't call." Whumpee's breathless voice dropped husky. Hoping to entice further vices from surrounding patrons.
Private rooms were where the money was really made.
After all, it was hard to tip when your hands were busy. It's a terrible thing indeed.
"I like this one," The woman's inviting tone flooded Whumpee's senses.
Venom compelling Whumpee with urges.
Patrons a plenty had strong venom, but none like this. Was she a fledgling? Vampire or not, this venom was beyond her.
The lights were on again, but dim. Whumpee realized she'd let a strange man hold her for entirely too long.
As if reading her thoughts, man released her waist, allowing her to step down.
The patrons were so clothed. Even wearing thick winter coats and beanies. She felt ashamed to be so nude. Though the lady was throwing an appreciative eye on her chest.
"I'll meet you at the lobby thirty minutes after the show. By the spiral stairs." The vampire woman said. Straight to her chest.
Author's note: I write in Ellipsus, so when I transferred via copy & and paste, the formatting got slightly wonky. I did my best to fix it but I'm sure there's some mistakes. 😟
AaaaAAAAaaaaHHHHHhhhhasdfgbnhfddsdvb so lovely! The tension is so thick! I love the detail that her fae senses fade with bloodloss. The interaction between whumpy, the woman, and her male companion is sooooo goooood! There's so much there with the characters!
I have some "out-takes" of sorts I can send you if you want 🙂 they're primarily whumpee focused. Such as her in her dressing room. Things I cut but liked the idea of 😊
The showgirl tied her hair into two french braids. Letting their length trail over her chest. Allowing for momentary coverage and completing her stage look.
It was a bit atypical for the soft bedroom look, her faded makeup suggested, but she would make it work.
The announcer was beginning their introductory speech. Overzealous but pleasantly short.
Whumpee couldn't help but be a little excited. Despite being forced into this sinful predicament.
Soft hands and sharp teeth, you heard it here, folks! The one, the only burlesque show doing it like this. May I introduce…your lovely lady.
Whumpee smiled with practiced ease, noting the crowd was rather full tonight. A hundred or so vampires. Maybe a little fewer, modern imitations of vampires had begun to appear…
Whumpee shuddered on point, exaggerating classic fear responses. She made sure to lift her skirts high and balled them in her fists before trotting across the stage. Fake passing out when the music became erratic.
A slush of vocalizations from the crowd showed her that they must like the peek-a-boo trick she'd devised. Though only her upper knees were primarily exposed. She was still in her camisole.
'Time to drop the knickers.' She thought nervously but pushed it down with a swallow.
This, this part where the music did its first swell, where the luminescent lights flickered overhead. This was where her heart dropped.
Bringing herself to her knees, titling her head back, she teased at the zipper with gloved hands. The parlor lights were a bright orange that made her silver outfit appear as liquid fire.
The chatty gentleman drunkenly laughed. Louder than the carefully arranged music. Meant to inspire infatuation. A cord piece with little lyrics.
She tugged her zipper down, standing with a flourish. Spinning around, bending at the waist. Letting the garment fall to the floor.
Somewhere in the haze of it all, she had thrown her gloves at the chatty gentleman. Funny for the audience, but she was sure they got the memo. Keep quiet!
Stepping out of it, she bent forward more, spreading her legs as she went, distracting from picking up her camisole while the lights dimmed down impossibly lower. Zeroing in on her just as she turned on the beat again.
Her pastes weren't anything fancy. Just white hearts, that was a nod to previous performances. The bar regulars whooped appreciatively. Calling her their heart girl. She flashed a seductive smile in their general direction.
The lights were always too bright at this part for her. She stayed stead-fast. Her reward, respite, and reason for sinning were on its way. Reprieve of intoxication.
She traced sinuous patterns over her body, allowing her naked chest to do the talking. Through the throng of supernaturals, she found her mark.
A shy woman about her age appearance. Though, being fae, she was sure she had no reason to judge the vampire she was prowling towards. Age was just a number with a face of youth.
Taking her shoes off slowly while the music began to close out, she made sure to throw the garters to the crowd. Letting the improper behavior climax.
The lovely vampire looked up, eyes gleaming. Fangs bared.
Whumpee made sure to offer her thigh up, allowing the other lady to pull it down a generous amount before helping her by tugging it off in an appealing way.
Without a word exchanged, the lady sunk her fangs through the flesh. Penetrating a superficial vein.
The lights became pitch black. Whumpee could no longer see. But the vampires could.
Terror entwined with pleasure. The woman laughed, cheered on by spectators. Drinking sloppily, allowing blood to cascade down onto Whumpee's gown.
The fae senses began to fade, blood loss taking hold. She steeled herself. Trying to pull away. Every showgirl knew what happened for passing out on the floor.
The master would allow the crowd to tear you apart in a frenzy. Hunger and lustful instincts driving the punishment.
Whumpee was grabbed roughly from the back. Waist snatched by the lady's companion. Their tall form towering over them both.
"Let's go. I do not wish to indulge so freely. We can catch her after the show. With a performance like that, she's no starlet." The male seethed, a jealous tone cascading his words.
Whumpee took the insult, grateful for an escape route. She was getting way too dizzy. She needed to step down. She couldn't even make out the man's features.
"I'll see you after the show, my lord. You needn't call." Whumpee's breathless voice dropped husky. Hoping to entice further vices from surrounding patrons.
Private rooms were where the money was really made.
After all, it was hard to tip when your hands were busy. It's a terrible thing indeed.
"I like this one," The woman's inviting tone flooded Whumpee's senses.
Venom compelling Whumpee with urges.
Patrons a plenty had strong venom, but none like this. Was she a fledgling? Vampire or not, this venom was beyond her.
The lights were on again, but dim. Whumpee realized she'd let a strange man hold her for entirely too long.
As if reading her thoughts, man released her waist, allowing her to step down.
The patrons were so clothed. Even wearing thick winter coats and beanies. She felt ashamed to be so nude. Though the lady was throwing an appreciative eye on her chest.
"I'll meet you at the lobby thirty minutes after the show. By the spiral stairs." The vampire woman said. Straight to her chest.
Author's note: I write in Ellipsus, so when I transferred via copy & and paste, the formatting got slightly wonky. I did my best to fix it but I'm sure there's some mistakes. 😟
AaaaAAAAaaaaHHHHHhhhhasdfgbnhfddsdvb so lovely! The tension is so thick! I love the detail that her fae senses fade with bloodloss. The interaction between whumpy, the woman, and her male companion is sooooo goooood! There's so much there with the characters!
Content: wing whump, blood drinking, whipping, chains, historical whump, fae whumpee, vampire whumper, hypnotism/compulsion, briefly hinted to BDSM, ballroom setting, captivity/holding someone against their will, magic whump (sorry if I missed anything)
Word Count: 1551
Gift for @softvampirewhump hosted by @whumpgiftswap
Featuring Vampy's oc Izabela
The Bite of the Past
Like human food in the fae realm, it had all turned to ashes. Yesterday's boldness was a distant thing now, his hopes as tattered as his stately dance attire hanging from his frame. Magic and stale sweat clung to his skin. Dancing music from the festivities played through his mind on loop.
Footsteps clattered above him as he sat, helplessly listening. In a mansion this large, they likely didn't belong to Izabela herself but he couldn't help flinching at even the smallest of noises. Every twitch sent the ankle shackle's chain clinking, a haunting mockery of music as the iron rattled.
Cold seeped through his bones from the basement's lack of flooring, the air biting into his skin with its chill. Exhaustion threatened to consume him, as he withered without moonlight. The last taste of it on his skin being over a day ago. With a slight wave of his fingers he was able to stir the barest breeze across his face, tasting of green living things, before pain seered up his leg from the iron shackle, stopping the magic in its tracks.
"Urgh," he groaned out, slumping further down the wall, his wings shifting painfully. The sting remained, pulsing through him for even daring to summon that slight magic trick.
The door at the top of the stairs clicked and whirred, locks shifting and magic swirling before it swung inward to reveal his captor and dashed hope. Old friends… he thought bitterly to himself.
Izabela was, as ever, a sight to behold. Her red hair looked spun from sunlight as it flowed over her shoulders, pointed ears poking through to reveal her fae heritage. Her green eyes glowed with magic, the lines of her face all cool and collected malice. He was taller than her by a lot but he still felt insignificant as a bug beneath her shoe as she glowered down at him. Her creamy skin was pale as a corpse, freckles sprayed like stars over her nose and cheeks. Her expensive skirts flowed around her, accentuating her grace and poise. The deep violet fabric looked like the night sky ready to swallow him whole.
With a stir of fear, he pressed further into the wall, wishing to disappear from before her. It slammed into him: he was not dealing with the Izabela of his childhood. This was a dangerous vampire that he had crossed, not someone he had played with on each of her visits to the fae's Night Court.
With each languid step she grew closer and the urge to apologize for even existing bubbled up behind his teeth, sharp and pointed though they may be.
"Emery, it's been awhile," Izabela greeted, voice cold and smooth as a frozen river.
"Y-yeah," Emery mumbled.
An amused smile, cruel all the same, curled Izabela's lips. "Hm, did I really break you in one night, Emers? You have no bargains?"
A chill slipped down Emery's back at the old nickname, wings shivering. He mutely shook his head, unsure if it was a denial or surrender.
He should not have come. It sung from deep in his bones the moment he entered the ballroom for the festivities the night before.
The ballroom was too busy, stuffed full of spinning skirts, decadent food, and suffering. But he pressed on, slipping through the crowd, dogged by perfume and the bright scent of blood heavy in the air.
When he finally found her with his eyes it was a wonder that it had taken any time at all to locate her. She was the epicenter of the entire mansion. Surrounding her was a thick gaggle of courtiers, swaying to her every whim. Beyond that, dancing couples orbited, all lavish skirts and luxurious silk coats. Servants rushed to obey. It was hypnotic, the way the room breathed in tandem to it's mistress.
Izabela herself took to the position like she was born to it. Her skirts flowed like a brook over rocks, the lush green layers of fabric made her red hair blaze. She almost looked like the only living being in the room full of vampires, their thralls, and their blood bags. He knew that wasn't quite true. Izabela may be fae, like him, but her fangs glinted just as menacingly from behind her lazy smile as the other blood suckers in the crowded hall. Her nails grew long and clawlike, glossy and painted red.
Emery made no pretense and headed directly towards Izabela, his wings batting at those that didn't clear a path.
Izabela's eyes found him, lighting up with interest. A slight smile softened her face and Emery grinned back. Izabela motioned for the gaggle of her court to make way, prompting glances that ranged in animosity; the softest merely curious, and some outright withering.
With his own self-assured poise, Emery bowed over Izabela's proferred hand, placing his lips gently to her exposed wrist before straightening.
"Emery," Izabela greeted, the one word holding all the buried emotions of the past.
"Izabela," he sighed out, relief and hope heavy as it left him in a gust of breath.
Izabela softly bit her lower lip, her fangs on display, as her smile sharpened. "You always were such an audacious thing. Leave us be." At the command, her circle dispersed but they stayed close by, wary eyes on Emery and their empress. Izabela arched one delicate eyebrow. "Care to dance?"
Emery squashed his nerves down and offered his arm with a flourish. "My lady."
Letting the steps take him, Emery glided across the floor with Izabela in his arms. Both of them might look around their twenties or thirties to an outside observer but that was a mere fraction of their years. Emery estimated that it had been over a century and a half since they'd seen each other last and they hadn't known it was goodbye. For a heartbeat, the years fell away and they were children again.
Izabela's tinkling laugh was soft as rose petals. Emery felt like he could drown in the sound. "So, Emery, why are you here? It's been so long."
She snared him with her peridot green eyes, the world around them shifting to something distant and filmy. He found himself cutting straight to it, the words drawn from his lips, helpless as a puppet on a string.
"The Night Court is in danger. The Winter Court threatens to absorb or to decimate us. Your father is—"
Izabela hissed, baring her fangs, and Emery's mouth slammed shut. "So, you're one of my father's lackeys now."
Emery wanted to protest that it was merely a marriage of convenience. The enemy of my enemy is my friend situation. But Izabela's eyes held him pinned like a specimen beneath a glass.
Her eyes roved over him, evidently weighing her decision. Her focus shifted back to his eyes, becoming the only thing he was capable of giving his attention to. "Why would you be so silly as to come here?"
Dreamily, he answered. "You're the strongest of us, my lady. You have your own army. I know you."
Her eyes narrowed. "You knew me."
With a flick of her wrist, two vampires materialized on either side of him, firmly grabbing his upper arms in grips of iron. They dragged him out of the room, down a confusing series of hallways and stairs, before chaining him in the basement.
He was left, dazed and confused, hopes painfully dashed and his people still in grave danger.
"Whatever shall I do with you, silly thing?" Izabela hummed, sauntering to the wall covered in her toys. She picked out a corded leather whip and twisted it in her fingers.
Face flushing, Emery did his best to smirk. "I have some ideas. But that's the wrong kind of whip for it."
"Oh, yes. Let's definitely have some fun. But I did choose this whip just for you, Emers."
The crack of it was the only warning he got as he flashed out and down, a slice of pain erupting across his torso and arms. Barely avoiding biting his tongue, he cried out. As Izabela lifted her arm once more he scrambled to his hands and knees to get away. The whip cracked down on his back, getting his wings too. The sensitive membranes lit up with pain to the point where he wasn't sure if they'd ripped or not.
The world turned hazy and distant as the hits kept coming, splitting his flesh open lash after lash. He screamed his voice hoarse and lost the strength to move, curling into a ball as far as the ankle shackle let him retreat.
He was so out of it that he didn't realize the whipping had stopped until Izabela was right beside him, pulling him into her arms and finding his neck with her teeth. The fangs slid into flesh with a sting, the cold feeling of venom traveling his system slowly turned his limbs to jelly and he lay limp in her unfeeling embrace.
"Hmm, fae blood is such a delicacy. Maybe I should keep you around for a treat. But first, we're going to talk about my father."
She pierced him with those eyes again, his own fluttering as unconsciousness threatened to pull him under.
"Ready, pet?"
And he knew he'd do anything she compelled him to.
Content: bbu(box boy universe), pet whump, grief, loss of a loved one mentioned, funeral setting, muzzle and leash, fever, dehumanization, dominance, NSFW, dubcon, both nonsexual and sexual nudity
Word count: 2,290
Synopsis: A feverish Vince accompanies Orion to the funeral and comforts him afterwards.
A/N: the NSFW takes place after the funeral in the second half, marked as dubcon because of the bbu setting
The Funeral
It was so cold and Vince's skin was burning. He pushed against the confines of his cage, cold metal touching bare flesh, squirming to get comfortable. Phantom pains lit up and down his missing arm. He whimpered, curling into himself as his stomach curdled with nausea. His good arm snaked around his knees, clutching them to his chest.
He stayed like that, shivering and trembling, until light softened the edges of the world from behind the curtains. Not long after, footsteps sounded on the porch, keys rattling in the lock, and Orion came sauntering in, dressed in a black suit with a white lily boutonniere adorning the lapel. His dark curls were still damp from a shower and the scent of hair gel followed him into the room.
"Shit," he greeted, unconcerned, "you look like hell." He threw his keys in the bowl near the door and deposited a bag next to the table it rested on.
Vince moaned softly into his knees. "I'm sure we share the same pleasure in seeing each other, sir."
Orion snorted, moving to unlock the cage. "C'mon, we gotta get you dressed. I even have a gift for you."
Vince eyed him, apprehensively but he didn't have much choice. Limbs weak and trembling, he awkwardly shuffled out from his cage. Once he was past the entrance, Orion grabbed his upper left arm and hefted him to his feet. Quickly, Orion pulled his hand away and wiped it on his thigh. "Ew, you're slick with sweat."
Vince gave him a weak glare. Who's fault is that? It wasn't exactly Vince's choice to spend the night wet and naked.
Orion huffed. "C'mon."
Leading the way upstairs, Orion brought them into Vince's room. Originally, it was designed to be a nursery and attached directly to the master bedroom. Bea had set it up for her pet to be close by. It had been a whole week of sleeping in the cage rather than Mistress Bea's bed or his own dog bed and Vince ached with more than muscle soreness for it.
"Found this. It's yours, right?" Orion moved to the small dresser, full of Vince's clothing.
A defensive snarl rose to the back of Vince's throat before he choked it down. Pets don't own anything. It felt like a trap of a question. "Mistress Bea intended them to be for this pet's use."
Orion raised an eyebrow. "So formal today, boxy."
Vince shrugged. A pounding headache was just getting started behind his eyes and he wasn't sure how much longer he'd last standing upright. He couldn't afford defiance.
Orion found the suit, last worn to a funeral for Mistress Bea's aunt, under a sweater. For preservation it had been tucked into a clothing box, carefully folded at the pressed lines.
"Get dressed. I'll get your breakfast," Orion said, leaving him to it.
Vince watched him go before cautiously entering Mistress Bea's room. The wrongness, the absence of her, hit him like a truck. On her desk her budgeting journal and favorite purple pens sat out. An Agatha Christie novel sat beside the bed. The covers were unmade, still holding the imprint of how Bea and Vince slept that last night together.
Vince shuffled forward and sat gingerly on the bed, Mistress Bea's side. He leaned down and inhaled her pillow, her scent still lingering. His achy limbs begged him to sink down, to rest, but he already heard Orion back on the stairs.
Vince rushed to get pants on, nearly toppling over in the process. Orion walked in on him trying to get his arm in the shirt, chuckling at the sight. "Useless thing, aren't you?"
At the words, Vince's face burned an indignant red. "Mistress Bea dressed me, sir."
Orion shook his head at that thought before grabbing the other side of the shirt and helping Vince slip his arm stump in. Next he held the suit coat up for him, pulling it up and running his hands down the front of Vince's chest, smoothing the fabric.
Orion lingered in front of Vince, looking him over. He hummed appreciatively. "Damn, you're gorgeous."
Vince bit his lip and averted his eyes, flushing further. Orion grabbed his jaw and found his gaze again. They stood like that, breath mingling between them, time stretching around them. Orion's eyes went dark, glimmering with heat and hunger. A warmth twisted in the pit of Vince's belly at the look, like Orion would swallow him whole.
The moment passed, Orion dropped both the hand on Vince's jaw and the one on his chest. Then, lastly, Orion pinned Vince's empty sleeves so that they didn't hang down.
"All set," Orion announced.
Vince tilted his head. "Thank you, sir."
Orion nodded then led them back downstairs. He sat at the table and gestured for Vince to join him. Vince climbed into his lap obediently and let him feed him spoonfuls of pet kibble.
"Last thing before we go," Orion announced. "Your gift." A wicked grin adorned his face as he handed Vince the bag he'd come in with.
A chill slid down Vince's spine as he opened the bag to find--a muzzle, made of soft brown leather alongside a leash.
"I figured mom wouldn't have them for you, with how much she spoiled you," Orion explained. "Now you can actually come to the funeral."
Vince couldn't help feeling dread at the sight. "I-- this is unnecessary, Master."
Orion slapped him upside the head, none too gently. "Like I said. Spoiled rotten. I'm not paying a fine just because you think you're all that."
The world went spinning at the impact, Vince's head pounding furiously. Before he could recover, Orion was holding the bit to his lips. Automatically, he opened up, allowing the metal piece to slide over his tongue and the leather to close around his face, buckled in the back.
"We'll borrow mom's car instead of going on my bike. Move."
Stumbling to his feet, Vince followed Orion out to the car.
Naturally, they were the first to arrive at the funeral home besides the director and the other employees.
Orion tied Vince's leash to a seat with a clipped "stay," before leaving with the director to go over things.
Guests trickled in, filling in around the casket. Hushed, respectful voices filled the room.
An ache filled his chest as the room moved around him, swallowing him like a stone in a river. The funeral he attended with Mistress Bea he'd been there as a comfort, as a companion. Orion never glanced at him; not as he walked up to the dias to give Mistress Bea's eulogy, not as he was crowded by friends, family, and acquaintances to share condolences, not when guests were paying respects to Bea, and not when proceedings died down to mingling and refreshments.
Vince sat quietly in the corner, saliva pooling around the bit in his mouth, breaths coming shallow and slow.
He felt ready to snap, bite and mangle and run. And never stop running. Disappointment burnt heavy in his chest as no one could give him what he wanted: a glimpse into the Bea he knew. They all skimmed the surface with their kind but empty words.
Mistress Bea had never felt so far.
Seven years of hardly ever leaving her side. Vince didn't know what to do with himself. He didn't get to stand up and speak. He didn't get to touch the casket lovingly in farewell. What was he supposed to do with the Mistress Bea that he knew? The one that tenderly slipped socks onto his feet when he had a fever like this one. The one that took him outside without a muzzle because she hated seeing him in one. The Mistress Bea that loved him. The only person who had ever loved him.
The tears came in earnest, slipping down and getting caught in the leather of his muzzle. Snot built up behind it, making breathing a challenge.
"You brought a pet?" The female voice cut through him, making him freeze. Glancing up, Vince saw Orion and his friend Mary approaching. Mary had spoken, an arm looped into Orion's.
"Yeah," Orion said, "my mom fucking loved the thing."
"Oh, it was Bea's? Hmm," Mary hummed, concern and doubt coloring her voice."
Vince wanted to rip Mistress Bea's name from her lips, from all of their lips.
"What?" Orion prodded.
"I just-- well, my uncle had a pet. I hope you know it doesn't really care about your mom. It doesn't have feelings," Mary warned.
A buzz of anger fizzed through Vince, his ears ringing with it. Or maybe that was the fever. Orion looked at him, something knowing in his eyes.
"Sure," he said.
Mary blushed, twisting her fingers in her skirt nervously. "I'm sorry, Ri! I shouldn't have said anything. It's not the time."
"No worries. I've had the pet a whole week now. I know." Orion's eyes were still on him so Vince forced his gaze to the ground.
Mary huffed in relief. "Okay, well, see you for New Year's?"
"Count on it." Orion gave her his winning smile as she walked off. "Come, Vince. It's time for the burial."
Vince looked up and pointed hesitantly to the casket, tilting his head in a question.
Orion looked back to it, shaking his head. "No, we've got to meet them at the plot. But it'll just be us." Orion gave a sharp tug on the leash.
Without a choice, Vince followed close behind his master.
Orion stood watching the casket lower into the ground, Vince beside him. The burial was quiet and simple, peaceful and touching in a separate way from the memorial but it left Orion with a hole in his chest.
They got home and Orion didn't plan it. With a shove he had Vince up against the wall, a knee between his legs. The heat of Vince's fever ebbed into his arm, his hand fisting into Vince's shirt.
Vince's eyes widened before going soft, intent. They flicked over his lips.
Orion reached up, hands skimming over the tender skin at Vince's neck, before unbuckling the muzzle. It fell away, forgotten as Orion crushed Vince's lips with his own. Vince made a surprised sound but enthusiastically kissed back, tongue flicking out to skim against lips and teeth.
Orion growled. He was so hot, he felt he would burn up if he didn't have Vince, the feverish heat only adding to the fire. He nipped at Vince's lip before kissing him harder.
Vince's hand landed on his waist, slipped under his waistband. Orion grabbed the boxy's hips and pulled them flush together, pressing his knee further up and moaning as the pressure both soothed and riled him up. Vince's breath stuttered at the contact.
Orion pulled back enough to unbutton Vince's jacket. He jerked it over Vince's shoulders, practically ripping the shirt open after it.
Orion sucked in a breath. He'd seen the boxy naked but not in this context. Vince's middle was thin and malnourished but also muscled and sculpted. The skin was littered with scars but Orion planned to leave his own marks.
"Get upstairs. Now," he ordered, shoving Vince in that direction.
Vince stumbled. "Yes, Master," he murmured softly, demure and submissive.
Orion slipped out of his own clothes as he followed. They got to the master bedroom and Orion pushed Vince down on the bed. He yanked his shoes off, tossing them away, the pants going shortly after.
Moving around the bed, Orion secured first Vince's ankles then his wrist, forcing him spread eagle. He climbed onto the bed, hovering with his knees on either side of Vince's hips. Reaching out, he raked his nails over Vince's chest, the skin turning white then pink. Vince's breath hitched and Orion wanted more. His hand whipped up, slapping Vince across the face. Vince gasped out, looking up at him with tear-laced lashes, eyes redlexively watering.
Orion smirked and bit his lip. "Damn," he breathed appreciatively. He bowed, mouth falling on Vince's exposed neck. He moved down, leaving hickeys as he went until Vince was shuddering and twitching, half hard beneath him.
"Please," Vince moaned out. "Master, please, I need you."
Orion chuckled darkly, heat pooling in his gut. "You beg so pretty." He pinched Vince's thigh, hard and punishing. Vince's breath went shaky.
"I think I like you like this," Orion mused, "all strung out and needy." He trailed a hand down Vince's chest, goosebumps raising in a wave behind his touch. "Maybe I'll keep you here."
Vince made an aborted protest in the back of his throat. "As you wish, Master," he promised.
Orion found Vince's cock with his hand. He teased at his slit, already oozing precum, and Vince trembled, a soft groan leaving his lips. Orion began a leisurely movement, up and down and Vince simpered, whining softly.
"God, the sounds you make," Orion murmured, drinking it all in.
Vince rocked his hips into Orion's hand, eager for more. Orion teased him further, fingers gliding softly over his slit, his shaft, his balls. Vince whimpered in pleasure, trembling under Orion's ministrations. The movement grew, moving away from leisurely, more relentless. Orion paused, relishing how Vince pushed into him, like he was everything. Then with a devestating move of his hand, Vince was over the edge, crying out, "master!" in his pleasure.
Orion hummed, pleased, taking it all in. He kissed the hollow underneath Vince's jaw before extricating himself. He felt powerful, in control, the empty ache in his chest appeased for the moment.
"Sleep tight, pet."
"Master?" Vince questioned softly, curious eyes on him.
Without looking back, Orion left him like that, gorgeously spent. He slipped back into his suit, the pieces strewn across the stairs. He needed a drawer here. Or maybe more.
