welcome, poor unfortunate soul, to the products of the deepest, most fucked up parts in my mind. my name's Em, i like to hurt people, and don't expect comfort. i mainly write lady whump, but i'll hurt a pretty boy too. i'm open for requests; main story or whump prompt. also, i know my main story is complicated as hell so if you have any questions, feel free to send an ask.
starting tomorrow, i promise i’ll go back to regular posting. these past several months i have been really hard. I had to deal with extreme senioritis (which i’m pretty sure is ADHD but the doctor didn’t believe me), working two jobs (i quit both of them because of mental stress), and a traumatic oral surgery. but now that summer is finally here for me, i’m going to be posting some collabs, continuing my main story, posting spicy drabbles, and adding to my prequel series.
This was originally a reply to @straight-to-the-pain's lovely post, but I felt like what I wanted to say should be its own thing.
As a disclaimer, I want to say that triggers surrounding lady whump are understandable and valid. You are not being demonized for being uncomfortable with a topic or having trauma surrounding it. However, that does not excuse the demonization and harassment of those who write it or choose not to tag it.
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The best example for whump being exposed to purity culture (as mentioned here) is the lady whump dilemma, and it's upsetting that people are afraid to address it or just don't see it happening.
I've seen people imply/outright state that because "women get abused more" means that lady whump is shady and "immoral" to write.
Not only does that completely invalidate men going through abuse but it's also a complete and utter bullshit reason to discourage freedom of creativity.
This is the whump community. We write about abusive relationships, noncon, violence and torture. Just because it isn't a male character does not mean any of this changes.
Saying that the gender of a character makes any of these acts "more severe" implies that if it happens to a male irl, it's less of a big deal.
This is untrue, and harmful.
If a man suffers from any of the aforementioned acts, they should be taken just as seriously as a woman. Men can be abused, sexually assaulted, and harmed just as much as a woman can. This is not news.
It's like we're taking steps BACK in equality via censorship and it's absolutely ridiculous.
Implying that a woman cannot go through the above experiences is also incredibly disrespectful to victims who have suffered from abuse. Implying that they cannot write about it is censorship.
People write to cope.
The fact people genuinely go after writers for not putting a warning about pronouns and for not promoting the "male only" whump stereotype is unacceptable.
You create your online experience. If you don't enjoy a certain trope, don't read it. I completely understand that tagging content helps potential readers avoid triggering content but when it comes down to the character's pronouns, I believe that if it impacts someone that much simply being in the whump community itself is harmful. Characters have different genders. It is inevitable.
That being said, there is nothing wrong with asking someone to tag content, just be prepared if they say no. Do not harass someone for not tagging something specific to you.
Just block them, or walk away.
It also grosses me out that people genuinely think that women only belong in a caretaker/supportive role instead of the main character. This enforces negative stereotypes of female characters.
This isn't the 50's anymore. Women have left the kitchen.
I'm sorry my character that goes through a rough experience just so happens to be female or uses she/her pronouns. Go touch grass.
Another thing that irks me is the promotion of people saying that they like male whump because they're attracted to men, but when it's the other way around somehow it's disgusting.
It's kind of homophobic to go after a saphic writer and preach that them writing lady whump isn't ok while also accepting someone writing male whump because they're attracted to men.
Double standards are harmful. Women can be attracted to women.
To quote an unnamed anon, "They clearly have a 'normalize misogyny and everyone should get off to the pain of women' agenda."
As if that isn't the case with male whumpees.
People here celebrate men being beaten up, bloodied and bruised. Yet somehow, when the tables are turned, everyone clutches their pearls as if a sin against nature has been committed-- claiming that men deserve to be objectified.
Not only is that a horrifically toxic response but it also puts lady whump writers in an extremely difficult spot when defending their work.
Honestly, the entire concept of lady whump being a separate community is disturbing in and of itself. We are not bad people just because we have female characters. We are not misogynists. We are not fetishists.
We simply write a gender that isn't male.
This community is definitely not as welcoming towards people with female characters, no matter what anyone here says about how "kind" and "friendly" this part of tumblr is. People are afraid to introduce their female characters due to the risk of harassment.
That's not okay.
This is supposed to be a community for enjoying torturing characters, regardless of how they identify.
The quality of whump should not be determined by the character's gender.
The fact that this is even a debate or source of drama is honestly sad.
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Thank you to @astralrunic and @for-the-love-of-angst for proofreading this.
thank you for pointing this out, seriously. although i have never experienced any hate towards writing female whumpees, i know that some lady whump writers do and it is not okay.
“It also grosses me out that people genuinely think that women only belong in a caretaker/supportive role instead of the main character. This enforces negative stereotypes of female characters. This isn’t the 50’s anymore. Women have left the kitchen.”
YES
i’m so sick of finally seeing a woman in a whump story, only for them to a caretaker. to take care of a man. to comfort them. but why can’t they be hurt as well? or do the hurting?
i understand that some people get triggered when they see a female whumpee, so all they have to do is just scroll past. don’t like? don’t fucking read and make shitty comments to the author.
but like you’ve beautifully pointed out, this makes it seem like only females can be abused, and whenever a whumpee is male, it’s okay to talk about because they’re not a woman. but men are abused too in real life!! this is moving us backwards, not forwards.
it always bothers me when i see posts like “Just thinking about men being bloodied and bruised.” but what about if that was said about women? just think about the double standard if i were to say, “Women being beat up by a man is fucking hot.” i would be called an abuser-lover, or a sexist or whatnot. WHEN IM A FUCKING FEMINIST MYSELF. i can advocate for women’s right, and ESPECIALLY men’s rights as well, while also writing about women in pain.
A journalist is captured by the mafia after she learns too much about their leader. This takes place on the second night of her captivity
-
Sam tiptoed through the darkness of the mansion, daring not to breathe in case it woke her captor.
Her clothes were miserably torn off her, fabric hanging in useless strips. She had no time to worry about that, she could deal with that later. She needed to get out of here.
But where was ‘out’?
It didn’t matter, she would find a back door. She could figure this out. She set her teeth together, bunching her fists to stop them trembling as she moved through the house.
She eyed a coat draped over a door and hastily snatched it up. It was too big for her, but it would keep out the biting cold on her bare skin. She winced as the ache between her legs throbbed.
She refused to think about it. Couldn’t think about it without feeling sick. Her feet touch smooth cold marble and she sees countertops, a stove and an oven loom out of the darkness. Modern and sleek, only the best for these mafia bastards.
She spied a knife block on the bench.
She pressed her teeth even tighter together, an inferno raging inside her as she ran over to it and yanked on the handle of one. A serrated bread knife.
She grimaced. She’d never stabbed anyone before. But after tonight, something had changed in her. Something feral that made her grip the handle tighter and imagine the blade ripping through flesh. Hot blood gushing from a gaping wound-
Then the light switched on.
“Better put that down. You could hurt yourself.”
-
A rabbit in the headlights, Sam froze at the sound of his voice. For a moment she forgot how to breathe.
Leonardo Luciano was at the entrance to the kitchen. He was smiling, a predatory gleam in his eyes as he leaned casually against the doorframe.
“Little mouse, did you not hear me?” He tilted his head to the side, mocking. This is what he truly was, without the cold mask he wore as the Mafia Don.
Her grip became sweaty as she shakily raised the knife. “Don’t… don’t touch me.”
“Oh I’ll do far more than that, little mouse. It just depends on you whether you’ll be conscious for it or not. Whether I beat you first or if you want to kneel and beg for forgiveness before I fuck you.”
The idea was so repulsive she almost emptied her guts onto the floor, stomach roiling. She was almost thankful they hadn't given her anything to eat yet.
She bared her teeth and lifted the knife higher, the edge of the blade gleamed in the shaft of moonlight from the window. Would anyone be awake at this time of night who could save her from this?
Leonardo chuckled, reaching to his side. "Oh, I see. You think you can kill me now? You think you'll be anything but my plaything? Oh, piccolina you really are a foolish girl."
He levelled a gun at her.
Fuck.
She couldn't fight that, her bread knife was nothing compared to a well placed bullet to the head. The casual stance was deceptive, Leonardo was a professional killer. This was merely a game for him.
She truly felt like a little mouse being batted idly around by a housecat.
And she didn't want to die.
Sam lowered the knife, her arms shaking from exhaustion and terror of what awaited her.
"There's my good girl."
She shuddered as the knife clunked onto the cool stone of the bench, unable to unclench her fist and release the hilt.
She only heard the click of his shoes against the tile before he was in front of her, the side of his pistol slamming into her face.
The knife slipped from her hands. A burst of white light as she reeled and fell, her back slamming onto the hard marble and knocking the breath out of her.
"I wanted to take my time with this." Leonardo's voice was a hiss in the dark, straddling her hips. His cold hands were ice on her skin and she gasped as he gripped her breasts; something ripped and she felt a knee push between her thighs.
"Wanted to enjoy you slowly... But now I have no choice but to teach you a lesson." He sounded regretful.
Fear was a living cold thing, clawing at her heart and tearing at her lungs. He forced her legs apart, exposing her to the air.
"No... no..."
Leonardo's palm smashed into the side of her face, his hand around her throat.
"You don't get to say that with me. You'll learn your place on my cock."
A yell, a scream caught in Sam's throat. A finger pushing into the tight stinging pain already burning through her.
"My men had fun with you, I see. Good. I don't mind sharing my things with the family."
He pulled himself out, already hard. She kicked out, hitting solid muscle. Leonardo grunted and flipped her onto her belly, ripping off the coat she stole. He smacked her hard on the ass.
"That's not yours. You can fight me, darling. I don't mind if you try. It's no fun breaking a lifeless doll.... no fun at all."
He gripped a handful of her hair, forcing her head back as he pushed into her. She let out a broken sob as pain lanced through her.
"Tight... Still nice and tight for me..." Leonardo grunted, filling her up. She gritted her teeth, trying to push up from the floor before he slammed her head into the floor with a low growl. More pain erupted, a throb in her head layered over the sting between her legs.
He spared her the small mercy of adjusting to his size, her body trying to accommodate him.
"You'll learn to love this, little mouse. You'll learn to crave your holes being filled up like this."
"No..."
Another vicious smack onto her ass before he forced himself deeper into her.
"Yes."
Then he pulled out and slammed back in, fucking her deeply.
Fucking join the queue then.
The thought floated before it sunk into a haze of fog, little glimmers of something akin to pleasure as he filled her. She tensed and he hissed, a beast looming over her in the dark as he used her.
Then he angled his hips and heated pleasure shot through her core, a gasp tearing from her lips.
No... I can't like this.
Leonardo slowed his pace, chuckling. "Oh? Did you like that, darling? My plaything already enjoying being stuffed full of cock."
She whimpered as his hand wrapped around her and flicked at her clit. Another bolt of pleasure rippled up through her.
"No... no... please..."
"Begging already? That was almost too easy."
Burning hatred exploded inside as she snarled, feral and bestial, snapping her teeth and bucking her hips to try and throw him off.
His weight dropped onto her, a strong grip on the back of her neck squeezed with a warning.
"There's the fight I wanted... Good... I'll fuck that right out of you."
She let out another low wordless growl and he thrust deeper into her. She tried to ignore the pleasure building, the wetness between her legs. Breathy whines and moans she couldn't hold back, hating herself for it.
"This is what you're for. This is what you'll be for the rest of how long I let you live." He was breathless now, snapping his hips into her rapidly and muttering filthy promises.
"You'll take any cock you're given- you'll take it just like this."
His heated sweaty body pressed her into the cold tiles, rubbing her against it with each push into her. Fuck.
Why did she have to get herself into this? Why didn't she stop and think that she might piss off a very dangerous man. And now she was face down on the floor of his kitchen...
It didn't take him long, his hips stuttering for a moment as he pulled out and spilled his release onto her. She felt it cool on her skin, panting and dizzy.
"Oh perfect, my little mouse. Oh good girl... You're going to be so good."
"Shut... shut up." She mumbled, earning her another sharp smack.
"You'll learn respect."
"Fuck... fuck you."
She was going to pass out, she felt blackness edge into her vision. The a tantalising throb between her legs as if her stupid body was expecting something from this. She rubbed her thighs together impulsively.
"You'll get your pleasure when you earn it. When you behave and don't get any ideas about escaping me."
The lights flicked on, too bright.
"Ah, you're here. I expect you to secure her better next time."
"Apologies, Don Luciano... She had been giving us trouble."
She couldn't pass out... not like this. But her body went limp just as a crack of gunfire split the air, something heavy thudding to the floor.
me, a week ago: ah, i finally quit both of my jobs. now, i can finally start seeing my family and friends again, catch up on schoolwork and improve my grades, and finally get back to writing.
me, on Friday: my tooth really hurts, i must have a cavity. i’m sure it’ll go away soon, and i’ll bring it up on my next dentist appointment.
me, this past weekend: *barely sleeping because of unbearable pain that seemed to have spread to multiple teeth and my upper gums. crying the entirety of sunday, advil and orajel not helping*
me, yesterday (the day of my scheduled wisdom teeth appointment): *talks to the oral surgeon, who begins pressing down on my very irritated gums, making me cry. i go to get an x-ray, where they discover a large cyst in my gums that stretches from the back of my mouth to the center on my upper right side. this cyst had been making my teeth loose, and then the oral surgeon starts talking about infections, abcesses, root canals, and a (small) chance of losing teeth and getting cancer. all the while i’m crying of how much this small toothache turned into something horrible. i then go under into an hour long surgery where they remove the cyst, waking up and having a panic attack because they were still working and i was afraid the anesthesia would run out. after the surgery, my upper lip is terribly swollen, i have braces (again) on my teeth that were affected by the cyst, and i’m not allowed to have anything but liquids for weeks.*
me, today (with the entirety of the right side of my face swollen): now i’m missing more school, look like Kris Jenner when she got an allergic reaction to her lip injections, and there’s a chance i’ll have these braces on for prom. and i get super nauseous whenever i take the medication needed to prevent the infection on my teeth….but at least i didn’t get wisdom teeth removed!
so again, the reason i hadn’t been posting or interacting was because i was working two jobs and started getting mental breakdowns because i wasn’t seeing any family or friends and was always too tired to do anything. now that i’m finally done, i have to heal from this surgery. i’m so sorry to the people i promised to collab with, and to my followers that want to see my story continue. just give me a few more weeks, or at least until the school year is over, and i’ll have more stuff written, i promise.
Giving into the “Make a drink based on your blog aesthetic” picrew chain and it’s honestly so cute. Go give it a try if you haven’t already! Picrew is HERE
I think this represents the blog and the theme pretty well. I couldn’t help but go for the city lights.
Tagging everyone! Boom! Tagged! Do it because you want to, I just wanted to, so I think you should too.
You know the drill: reblog and bold your preferences.
chained up or forced to wear a straightjacket // stabbed in the shoulder or bitten by a monster // masquerade ball or dinner party // stormy night or winter forest // dungeon or tower // sudden collapse or bandaged up // poisoned or drained of blood // experimented on or bedridden // nightmares or hallucinations // attacked by a monster or transformed into one // betrayal or lost love // castle or cottage // seaside or garden // hanged or strapped down // damsel in distress or ghostly maiden // haunted portrait or haunted mirror // guilt or insanity // immortality or untimely death // thunderstorm or snowstorm // imprisoned monster or angry ghost // laboratory or library // cemetery or portrait gallery // secret cellar or secret attic // hanging chandeliers or melting candelabras // body horror or creature horror // howling wind or eerie silence
chained up or forced to wear a straightjacket // stabbed in the shoulder or bitten by a monster // masquerade ball or dinner party // stormy night or winter forest // dungeon or tower // sudden collapse or bandaged up // poisoned or drained of blood // experimented on or bedridden // nightmares or hallucinations // attacked by a monster or transformed into one // betrayal or lost love // castle or cottage // seaside or garden // hanged or strapped down (no! I won’t pick!) // damsel in distress or ghostly maiden // haunted portrait or haunted mirror // guilt or insanity // immortality or untimely death // thunderstorm or snowstorm // imprisoned monster or angry ghost // laboratory or library // cemetery or portrait gallery // secret cellar or secret attic // hanging chandeliers or melting candelabras // body horror or creature horror // howling wind or eerie silence
@whump-in-the-moonlight @dont-touch-my-soup I’m scared to tag people I don’t usually tag 👉👈 If you wanna do this, please feel tagged.
chained up or forced to wear a straightjacket // stabbed in the shoulder or bitten by a monster // masquerade ball or dinner party // stormy night or winter forest // dungeon or tower // sudden collapse or bandaged up // poisoned or drained of blood // experimented on or bedridden // nightmares or hallucinations // attacked by a monster or transformed into one // betrayal or lost love // castle or cottage // seaside or garden // hanged or strapped down // damsel in distress or ghostly maiden // haunted portrait or haunted mirror // guilt or insanity // immortality or untimely death // thunderstorm or snowstorm // imprisoned monster or angry ghost // laboratory or library // cemetery or portrait gallery // secret cellar or secret attic // hanging chandeliers or melting candelabras // body horror or creature horror // howling wind or eerie silence
The library or lab one was difficult; I find both comforting so preference is difficult. For creatures, I definitely prefer them to look human but have just a little unsettling thing that makes them feel non-human or “off.”
I’ll tag @hold-him-down @peachy-panic @pumpkin-spice-whump and @whumpsday No pressure of course
chained up or forced to wear a straightjacket // stabbed in the shoulder or bitten by a monster // masquerade ball or dinner party // stormy night or winter forest // dungeon or tower // sudden collapse or bandaged up // poisoned or drained of blood // experimented on or bedridden // nightmares or hallucinations // attacked by a monster or transformed into one // betrayal or lost love // castle or cottage // seaside or garden // hanged or strapped down // damsel in distress or ghostly maiden // haunted portrait or haunted mirror // guilt or insanity // immortality or untimely death // thunderstorm or snowstorm // imprisoned monster or angry ghost // laboratory or library // cemetery or portrait gallery // secret cellar or secret attic // hanging chandeliers or melting candelabras // body horror or creature horror // howling wind or eerie silence
Tagging @whumpy-writings @deluxewhump @sadistgalore and whoever else wants to jump in!
chained up or forced to wear a straightjacket // stabbed in the shoulder or bitten by a monster // masquerade ball or dinner party // stormy night or winter forest // dungeon or tower // sudden collapse or bandaged up // poisoned or drained of blood // experimented on or bedridden // nightmares or hallucinations // attacked by a monster or transformed into one // betrayal or lost love // castle or cottage // seaside or garden // hanged or strapped down // damsel in distress or ghostly maiden // haunted portrait or haunted mirror // guilt or insanity // immortality or untimely death // thunderstorm or snowstorm // imprisoned monster or angry ghost // laboratory or library // cemetery or portrait gallery // secret cellar or secret attic // hanging chandeliers or melting candelabras // body horror or creature horror // howling wind or eerie silence
if you're interested in doing this, consider yourself tagged!
sorry for the long wait, but thank you for the ask!
The answer is no, unfortunately. Killian was filled with too much guilt to ever face Harper and tell her what happened. Once he comes to from the drugs at the end of the rape, he doesn’t even look at Harper for a week, just so he wouldn’t see the face that had been crying, begging him to stop. At this point, he had started to get feelings towards her and didn’t want to ruin their potential relationship.
The guilt and selfishness carried with him into his capture, and in the current story, he had never told her. Harper has already had enough pain in her life, she doesn’t need her boyfriend admitting that he raped her adding into it.
But it’s ok, in a way, because Harper is keeping a secret from him as well. >:)
1. What’s their full name? Why was that chosen? Does it mean anything?
2. Do they have any titles? How did they get them?
3. Did they have a good childhood? What are fond memories they have of it? What’s a bad memory?
4. What is their relationship with their parents? What’s a good and bad memory with them? Did they know both parents?
5. Do they have any siblings? What’s their names? What is their relationship with them? Has their relationship changed since they were kids to adults?
6. What were they like at school? Did they enjoy it? Did they finish? What level of higher education did they reach? What subjects did they enjoy? Which did they hate?
7. Did they have lots of friends as a child? Did they keep any of their childhood friends into adulthood?
8. Did they have pets as a child? Do they have pets as an adult? Do they like animals?
9. Do animals like them? Do they get on well with animals?
10. Do they like children? Do children like them? Do they have or want any children? What would they be like as a parent? Or as a godparent/babysitter/ect?
11. Do they have any special diet requirements? Are they a vegetarian? Vegan? Have any allergies?
12. What is their favourite food?
13. What is their least favourite food?
14. Do they have any specific memories of food/a restaurant/meal?
15. Are they good at cooking? Do they enjoy it? What do others think of their cooking?
16. Do they collect anything? What do they do with it? Where do they keep it?
17. Do they like to take photos? What do they like to take photos of? Selfies? What do they do with their photos?
18. What’s their favourite genre of: books, music, tv shows, films, video games and anything else
19. What’s their least favourite genres?
20. Do they like musicals? Music in general? What do they do when they’re favourite song comes?
21. Do they have a temper? Are they patient? What are they like when they do lose their temper?
22. What are their favourite insults to use? What do they insult people for? Or do they prefer to bitch behind someone’s back?
23. Do they have a good memory? Short term or long term? Are they good with names? Or faces?
24. What is their sleeping pattern like? Do they snore? What do they like to sleep on? A soft or hard mattress?
25. What do they find funny? Do they have a good sense of humour? Are they funny themselves?
26. How do they act when they’re happy? Do they sing? Dance? Hum? Or do they hide their emotions?
27. What makes them sad? Do they cry regularly? Do they cry openly or hide it? What are they like they are sad?
28. What is their biggest fear? What in general scares them? How do they act when they’re scared?
29. What do they do when they find out someone else’s fear? Do they tease them? Or get very over protective?
30. Do they exercise? Regularly? Or only when forced? What do they act like pre-work out and post-work out?
31. Do they drink? What are they like drunk? What are they like hungover? How do they act when other people are drunk or hungover? Kind or teasing?
32. What do they dress like? What sorta shops do they buy clothes from? Do they wear the fashion that they like? What do they wear to sleep? Do they wear makeup? What’s their hair like?
33. What underwear do they wear? Boxers or briefs? Lacey? Comfy granny panties?
34. What is their body type? How tall are they? Do they like their body?
35. What’s their guilty pleasure? What is their totally unguilty pleasure?
36. What are they good at? What hobbies do they like? Can they sing?
37. Do they like to read? Are they a fast or slow reader? Do they like poetry? Fictional or non fiction?
38. What do they admire in others? What talents do they wish they had?
39. Do they like letters? Or prefer emails/messaging?
40. Do they like energy drinks? Coffee? Sugary food? Or can they naturally stay awake and alert?
41. What’s their sexuality? What do they find attractive? Physically and mentally? What do they like/need in a relationship?
42. What are their goals? What would they sacrifice anything for? What is their secret ambition?
43. Are they religious? What do they think of religion? What do they think of religious people? What do they think of non religious people?
44. What is their favourite season? Type of weather? Are they good in the cold or the heat? What weather do they complain in the most?
45. How do other people see them? Is it similar to how they see themselves?
46. Do they make a good first impression? Does their first impression reflect them accurately? How do they introduce themselves?
47. How do they act in a formal occasion? What do they think of black tie wear? Do they enjoy fancy parties and love to chit chat or loathe the whole event?
48. Do they enjoy any parties? If so what kind? Do they organise the party or just turn up? How do they act? What if they didn’t want to go but were dragged along by a friend?
49. What is their most valued object? Are they sentimental? Is there something they have to take everywhere with them?
50. If they could only take one bag of stuff somewhere with them: what would they pack? What do they consider their essentials?
Hi hi :))) this has probably already been written somewhere but how did Luther know Killian before? Sorry, I'm new around here but I really love your stuff! :D
hi hi :)!!!! also welcome since you’re new, and i appreciate the compliment! if you have any other questions, i would love to answer them!
and no, i’ve never written the real reason why Killian and Luther already knew eachother. i wanted it to be a big reveal, but honestly i’m not sure when i’ll ever get to writing it.
so i guess i’ll reveal the real reason under the cut because of how fucking dark (no pun intended) it is.
now, this probably is going to make little sense, but it really adds to Luther’s character. and if you’re really disturbed by this, please check out my previous post so it can give a little bit of clarification on their more…sexual matters.
warning for incest
judging from the bolded lettering, you can get a pretty good guess of how they know eachother.
Luther is Killian’s uncle.
yeah
sorry
lemme explain
as you know, Luther was originally very poor. he lived on the streets with his brother, who was a petty thief. Luther, on the other hand, experimented to make very dangerous but unique drugs. one day, Luther met Dark and showed him his experiments, and Dark offered him a position with the Jaguars.
there, Luther fell in love with Helene (Ida’s sister/Beth’s boss/Dark’s current wife) but Helene was the daughter of the main boss of the Jaguars (Ida’s dad) and he forbade their relationship from ever happening.
during this time, Luther’s brother, Alexander/Lex, was married to a woman named Clara. together, they had a son named Killian. thanks to Luther’s new job, he made a lot of money and they all lived in a very nice house with Luther. Clara was also very smart, and helped Luther out with his experiments sometimes (keep that in mind).
however, once Evelyn (dark’s wife) died, Helene’s father wanted Dark to marry his daughter because he knew that Dark could be a good heir (he didn’t want his own daughter to take over his position). completely against both of their wills, they were forced to get married and Helene McKinley became Helene Darmine.
Luther was fucking pissed.
Luther loved Helene, and his best friend had the fucking gall to just marry her and take her away from him. when he returned home and saw his brother with his wife and son, he became extremely jealous.
and angry.
in his mind, Luther had sacrificed everything for him and his brother, Lex. he was the one whose drugs got discovered, he was the one that joined one of the most dangerous gangs in America just so him and his brother could get out of poverty and living in the streets.
and Lex had the fucking nerve to just take his money, and have a happy life with his wife and child. but Luther couldn’t??
that wasn’t fair to him
so he killed his own brother
this was the breaking point in Luther’s mind. after killing his own blood, he wanted to erase his entire family. luckily, Clara saw what happened and knew that there was no return for Luther. so she took one of the drugs that they made together and injected her son, Killian, with it, so he could forget everything that had to do with Luther.
the two of them escaped and moved across the country, where they lost Luther’s money and had to live in poverty once again. Killian had no memory of his uncle, and barely even remembered his childhood. Clara soon became a drug addict because of her grief over losing her husband and her best friend.
but Luther wants his revenge. killing Lex wasn’t enough for him. he needed to kill Clara, and his original plan was to kill Killian as well. but, once he found them once again and manipulated Killian into living with him, he realized that he could do so much more.
instead of ending his revenge right there, he could extend it. Luther was easily manipulated, and seeing all of his peers that he worked with having his own pets, he figured he could keep Killian and hurt him, so that his revenge against his brother would last forever. what better than get revenge on your brother than making his son your personal dog?
so Luther took Killian, and later found Clara and killed her. Luther knew that Killian was his nephew, but Killian didn’t; he still doesn’t know. i would really recommend reading “All He Sees Is Red” because it explains how Luther feels.
obviously them being related is pretty horrible, so like please don’t cancel me lol. but i just think it adds to the story and really makes Luther even more of a villain.
Tw: Blood, Restrained by Barbwire, Female Whumpee, Guns, Gunshots, Threats, Begging, Implied Death? (This could be made into a p.2 later, so.. idk), Neglect, Captivity, Male Whumper.
@badthingshappenbingo Trope: Barbed Wire.
Whumper is a hunter, and his forced companion, Whumpee, cannot tolerate the sound of gunfire. It terrifies her. So Whumper comes up with a way to possibly help fix that unfortunate fear.
× × ×
Whumpee held her breath tightly in her chest as hot tears burned her cheeks, as she suddenly heard a loud Bang–!
She was only feet away from the sounds of a 9mm handgun being fired off in front of her, causing her to unconsciously flinch, tugging at the barbed wire wound tightly around her wrist, holding her arms high over her head, making the mental barbs dig deeply into her soft ivory flesh.
Thin warm trails of scarlet blood stained Whumpee's arms as she let out a scream, closing her eyes, pressing her back close to the wall behind her as a searing pain inflamed her wrist more.
"You're going to get used to hearing gunfire sooner or later. For your sake? I'd say the sooner the better." Whumper scoffed calmly, not even bothering to gaze over in her direction.
Whumpee bit her tongue tightly while opening her eyes, wincing in pain as she tried to relax herself so that the barbed wire clawing into her skin didn't add any more tension.
Before she could make any attempt to respond, Whumper raised his arms in front of himself while taking aim at the human-shaped target in front of him, firing another shot, again hearing a pained scream from Whumpee's direction.
Whumper sighed in annoyance while placing the gun down hard on the table in front of him, glaring over in Whumpee's direction.
"You know, it was cute at first. But now this is frankly starting to piss me off, you whiny little bitch." He said this bitterly while picking up a pair of gloves from the table and slipping them on as he turned towards Whumpee.
Her eyes widened. In a panic, she saw him walking towards a small roll of barbed wire he had stored in a small crate near Whumpee as he bent over, reeling from the spool, cutting the appropriate length with a pair of pliers attached to his belt.
"P-please n-no.. I'll stop– I-i won't–"
"Tch, darling.. don't you think it's a little late for that?"
"No! I'll be s-still, I swear, just– Don't!"
She screeched as Whumper tied the length of the wire around her chest, back, and abdomen tightly enough that the barbs only poked against Whumpee's frail skin, until she unwittingly moved again.
"Well, be still then, Whumpee.. or this is going to hurt a lot more than it needs to."
Whumper warned her as he walked back towards the table, tossing his gloves to the side of the table again while picking his gun up and taking aim again.
Whumpee tried hard to steady her trembling while watching Whumper with wide eyes.
Bang–!
Whumpee's instincts to suddenly flich from the abrupt noise caused the wire around her wrist and now her torso to rip into her skin, causing small shallow lacerations across her body and leaving trails of deep crimson blood painted on her body.
Whumper watched in a faintly disappointed way as the pained cries continued to echo throughout the room.
"Truly pathetic." Whumper scoffed as he shook his head, watching her tremble from the sheer pain coursing through her body.
"But I do have a meet up to get to too. Perhaps we can try this later.. If you haven't bled out by the time I get back."
"can't.. le..ave me.. m'plea..se.."
Whumpee tearfully begged Whumper as she watched him glance towards her, ignoring her words and desperate looks as he continued to walk out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Leaving Whumpee In the fluorescently lit room alone, she was painted in her own blood as her body trembled unconsciously from the searing pain flaring throughout every inch of her body.
'Be.. st-still..' she thought to herself quietly, closing her eyes slowly, trying to ignore the pain and lightheaded feelings.
ANGSTPRIL is a month-long, oc whump event for lady whumpers, whumpees, and non-male characters. There are 30 official prompts this year - one for each day of the month - which can be used, skipped, or combined in any way you’d like. Creators can PARTICIPATE as much or as little as they want (i.e. you don’t have to do ALL the prompts if you don’t want to) and prompts can be used in any order. They are also free to use even after the event ends.
#angstpril22 …..(the event tag)
#no.1, #no.2, #no.3, …..(prompt number)
#teeth, #etc …..(trigger warnings & any additional tags. Keep in mind not to add “tw” in front but only use the word/trigger itself, because tumblr sucks)
Wait so does Luther actually care for Killian? And how does Killian feel towards Luther?
wow, thank you for asking!
mentions of a very long answer and some dark topics are all under the cut:
ok, so, Killian’s and Luther’s relationship is very…complicated. i’m not going to reveal their direct relationship until i officially release the chapter, but let’s just say that that reveal is very very dark and disturbing.
What you have to know about Luther is that he is a fucked up person. Seriously. He grew up poor and was easily manipulated by the people he works for now, the Jaguars. Once money came into the picture, he was willing to do anything to get rich and gain power. What really made him crazy was killing someone he loved, and that was like killing off a large part of his humanity (not all, you’ll see later).
So basically that was just telling you that he can’t really care for anyone, but he’s not a sociopath like Dark. As you can see in some other stories, he actually is sometimes nice to Killian (ie: “Killian ➡️ Ask Luther to hold you”) and doesn’t hurt him 24/7. ONLY to Killian, but not to someone like Harper. This is because Luther and Killian knew eachother before Killian’s capture (Killian doesn’t remember Luther) and Luther still cares for Killian in some ways, but he tries not to.
This is why in “All He Sees Is Red” Luther constantly told himself “He’s nothing to me, I never knew him. He’s below me.” because a part of him is still human and it’s hard for him to face what he’s done to Killian. That man dehumanized, tortured, and even raped that boy, and sometimes he can’t face what he’s done to him. Luther is a coward, but he doesn’t see Killian as the boy he knew from his past, he truly sees him as a dog because he convinced himself so.
One of the things I regret writing was the “Training” and a Devil’s Playground chapter that heavily implied that Luther has had sex with Killian. After I made the change of how Killian and Luther knew eachother, it made their relationship so much more fucked up. That is why I’m planning on releasing a story where Luther has sex with Killian for the first time, and what exactly goes on in Luther’s insane head.
Over time, the small bit of humanity that Luther had ate him up, and he stopped raping Killian because he felt so guilty about it. But he still makes references to it in the present just to humiliate him. In the beginning, he really only kissed him against his will because he saw that is what other Masters did to their pets. He wanted to feel that power over pets like his Killian, and he wanted to be powerful like the people he worked with. He grew up as weak and powerless, he doesn’t want to feel that way again.
It should be noted that Luther doesn’t like Killian like Dark likes Harper. Dark is obsessed with owning Harper, he loves her in a very messed up way. Luther is not like this with Killian. He doesn’t love him at all. He loves hurting and humiliating him. He does this because once again, Killian was connected to his past. Luther blames Killian and the people he knew to ruining his life and instead of killing him, Luther wanted the boy to suffer as long as possible.
Now, in regards to Killian, he hates Luther. He hated him through the entirety of his capture, why wouldn’t he? That man lied and kidnapped him, then proceeded to dehumanize him and torture him every single day. But, Killian does end up getting brainwashed by him about two years into his capture and doesn’t fight back as much. But Killian is still terrified of Luther, and hates that he always hurt him.
When Harper comes into his life, he “wakes up” and realizes that he needs to save Harper before she ends up becoming like him. He becomes less obedient and more defiant, and starts gaining his humanity back.
TLDR; Luther barely cares for Killain. He knows him from his past, and that small bit of humanity makes him care for him. He only interacts with him sexually to feel power, but he doesn’t anymore. Killian never cared for Luther, and only somewhat tolerated him when he was brainwashed.
here's the first installment of @amonthofwhump's Mafia Madness! I really hope to complete all of the prompts, but I'm not sure if I will able to since my senior trip this week. nonetheless, this series will be the prequel to my original story, The Devil's Playground, and will include some characters from it. this first one is about Beth's (from the first few chapters of my masterlist/Harper's best friend and roommate) and Nate's (character I haven't introduced yet, but another whumpee of Dark) parents, and Ida's father (the main boss of the Jaguars, the gang Dark works for). hope you all enjoy!
CW: child abuse, modern slavery, minor whumpees (16 and 17 y.o.), degradation, implied torture, mention of rape, death threats, waterboarding, shoe kissing, defiant whumpee
--
The silk covered hand lifted up to the young girl’s face, brushing away a strand of her platinum blonde hair and tucking it behind her ear. She saw herself in the mirror and smiled, admiring her carefully constructed face. If her mother was here, she would say the same thing she always said; “You look liked me before the wrinkles.” Then her father would make a comment saying she always had wrinkles, or something or other.
Maybe that’s why their marriage never worked out.
Not one to dwell on the past, the girl got up from her chair in front of her vanity and threw on the fur coat hanging on the wall. It was from the skin of a blank panther, expensive, but can help her remain undetected on her date.
A rock then bounced off her window, making the young girl turn around. Speak of the devil.
Once she opened up the latch, sure enough, the young slave boy whom her father owned was waiting for her down below. The boy waved brightly, making the girl return the favor before she went back inside and grabbed the chest underneath her bed. Inside, there was a bundle of woven rope with a latch on one end, which she attached to the wall next to her. Carefully, as to not fall three stories down and die, the young girl made her way down the mansion.
“Ida,” the young boy breathed once she got done, running up to hug her.
“Harold,” she whispered, a smile on her face.
“You look beautiful,” he said as he grabbed her hand, and the two began running across the courtyard.
“Thank you, where are we going?” Ida asked, looking behind her in case anyone could see them and alert her father.
Harold led her behind the large pool house, to the gazebo located about two hundred feet away from it. The location was perfect, it was hidden behind some large trees and hedges, and already far enough from the mansion’s view.
“Here,” he finally answered, slightly out of breath. He gestured brightly to the lantern lit gazebo, decked with ribbons and flowers, and a small table with food settled in the center.
Ida held her hand up to her mouth in awe. “It’s beautiful!”
Harold’s face blushed, leading her once more to the table and helping her sit down. “Oh it's nothing, I managed to steal the flowers from the gardens, and made the ribbons out of unused silk sheets that were going to be returned. The lanterns I found in a corner of the storage room.”
“But it's still thoughtful nonetheless. Thank you, Harold,” she praised, reaching out her hand for him to hold.
He took it and wrapped his fingers around hers. “My pleasure, Mrs. McKinley.”
Unbeknownst to them, one of the McKinley guards had seen them run through the mansion's greens, and spoke into his walkie talkie.
Ida grabbed the fork on the table, that was a plastic spork next to a styrofoam plate which was filled with fried chicken tenders and french fries. She stifled a laugh and raised an eyebrow at her boyfriend.
“Look, last time I tried to steal food I got twenty lashes from the cook. So, princess, you’re getting a kids meal from McDonalds,” Harold said with a sigh.
“I’m just kidding, Chef Darryl’s food is gross anyways,” Ida said with a smile, taking the plastic fork and piercing a chicken nugget.
The two ate in bliss, talking about their day and the plans for the future. Even though they were still teenagers, the two knew that they loved each other, that they were soulmates. They were modern day Romeo and Juliet, with Ida being the daughter of the leader of the most dangerous gang in America, and Harold being one of the unfortunate ones to become a slave in this modern world.
Ida wanted nothing more than to be with Harold, and would be more than happy leaving her crime family behind. She had always been the more light hearted one between her and her sister, who took after their father. Ida was like her mother, and didn’t see the point of killing people, ruining families, selling drugs and weapons, and just being…evil.
She wanted to help people, and that’s where she met Harold. The slave was being beaten half to death by her father’s guards, all for breaking a plate and “putting shame” on the family in front of guests. It was then that Ida stepped up to help him, and they’ve had a bond ever since. They kept it a secret of course, her father would kill Harold and do god knows what else to her if he ever found out.
But they just had to wait a few more years. Once she turned eighteen, she would get her mother’s money that she left behind and her and Harold could finally be happy. She just had to wait a little bit longer.
“Ida Catherine McKinley,” came a voice that made Ida still in her seat. She turned around in fear filled eyes, stomach dropping at the sight of her disappointed father and two guards standing behind him.
She quickly glanced at her boyfriend, whose face was pale white, face slightly chubby due to his mid chew of a chicken nugget.
“Father,” she started, slowly rising up from her seat, legs shaking. “I can explain.”
But before she could, Harold jumped out of his seat and ran into the woods, the two guards immediately running after him. Ida turned back to her father, taking a large gulp.
“Explain how you and that mongrel servant were together, and he ran away instead of kneeling in my presence?” Her father spoke in a calm voice, but she could tell he was angry by the vein popping out of his forehead.
“I-” She stammered trying to somehow find a way to convince her dad not to kill the man she loved. “We- um, well-”
“Don’t worry,” Her father said as he walked up towards her. “There’s no need to explain. l’ll have that runt killed once we capture him, and you are going to be fixed so that you never have feelings to pets like him again.”
“No, don’t kill him, Daddy, no!” She screamed as her father grabbed her arm and dragged her away from the gazebo. “I don’t want to be fixed, I don’t want to be like you!”
At that, her father quickly spun her around and slapped her across the face. “You are a McKinley. It is you and your sister’s destiny to take my place as kingpin once I pass. You don’t have a say in the matter.”
Ida looked at her father with teary eyes, before pouting and letting herself be dragged back to their mansion. It wasn’t good to be fighting back more, especially not with her father in this kind of mood.
Once they reached the manor and settled in the living room, her father immediately grabbed his phone and dialed a number. Ida had to sit there and listen as her father made plans to send her away to a boarding school in Europe for the next two years, unable to do anything. She saw her sister, Helene, peak into the room with a solemn look on her face, obviously feeling pity on her little sister. But even as much respect Helene had for her father, she wasn’t strong enough to go against him.
A few minutes later, the same two guards came in and joined them in the living room, dragging Harold by the arms. His two appendages were tied behind his back, and he was thrown to his knees in front of Mr. McKinley. The man saw the slave beneath him and barely gave notice, just pulled his gun out and aimed it at him.
“No!” His daughter screamed, falling down from the couch and putting herself in front of her boyfriend. “Father, please don’t kill him! Please, I’ll do anything!”
“Ida Catherine, move out of the way,” Her father said in a monotone voice, his gun still pointed ahead, now pointing at his own daughter.
“You’re already sending me away, there’s no point in killing him! Just keep him alive, that’s all I ask.”
There was silence in the room for a moment, the only sound filling it was Ida McKinley’s frantic breaths. She couldn’t lose Harold. He was her everything. Without him, there would be nothing for her.
“Fine,” her father finally said. “He won’t die, but he will suffer. I’ll send him to Heinsburg.”
Harold gave a quiet curse from he knelt. Heinsburg was one of the worst labor camps the Jaguars owned. Slaves there were barely fed, rarely washed, and were constantly beat, tortured, and raped by the guards. No one has ever escaped and if you even try, you’ll be killed. It was literal hell on Earth, where Harold would probably be for the rest of his life. He should’ve just been killed now, since there’s a good chance he won’t be alive until before he’s twenty.
Ida closed her eyes in disappointment, but she knew her father wouldn’t change his mind. It’s either the labor camp, or the love of her life dies.
“Thank you,” she breathed, standing back up and hugging him. Her father didn’t return the favor.
“Get to your room and start packing,” Was all he said, and Ida followed his commands. As she made her way up the grand stairs, she stopped to look at Harold. They both shared a look of sorrow, but Harold gave her a small smile. I love you, he mouthed, but he was harshly backhanded by the mafia boss. “Take him to the basement,” he ordered, and Harold was once again dragged by his arms by the guards.
In the basement, as Harold was gasping for air once he was dragged back up from his scalp, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. He couldn’t stop thinking about her blue eyes and blonde hair, her smile and laugh, the way she glowed whenever she walked into a room. Ida Catherine would be his wife one day, he knew it.
Mr. McKinley ducked him back under the water, his grip tight against his hair as the slave beneath his struggled. This little runt would beg him to kill him one day, when he visits the labor camp a few months into Harold’s time there. His Ida would regret her plea, if she even remembered her boyfriend. He’s sure that a few sessions of electrotherapy would snuff out this romance, or he would have to resort to more…brutal measures
The man finally let the slave go and let him fall to the ground, watching as he choked and coughed out water. Harold let out a ragged gasp, before leather shoes appeared in his vision.
“Kiss them,” his girlfriend’s father commanded. “Kiss them, and thank your Master for allowing you to live, runt.”
Harold gave him a look through his wet hair that almost resembled defiance, before he finally leaned down and kissed the shoes. “Thank you, Master, for letting me live.”
Mr. McKinley said nothing, just spitting on him before he left the basement.
Harold took another breath to fill his lungs, before looking up at the locked door. I’ll come back for you, Ida. I promise.
Sunny and Star Crew: @ashintheairlikesnow @whumpinggrounds @whumptakesthecake @justplainwhump @whumpfessional @winedark-whump @painful-pooch - let me know if you want to be added/removed!
CW: pet whump, BBU, lady whump, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, derogatory language, defiant whumpee, masochism mention
***
It’s a long way to the ground. Sir pulls his two pets out onto the balcony by their collars, dumping Sunny in a chair and throwing Star against the railing.
Sunny looks up at Sir with tearful eyes, shivering in his thin white dress, the fabric bunched up around his ankles. He thinks he looks stupid in it. But Star in her identical dress? He thinks she looks like an angel, the fabric flowing off her figure.
She looks divine, until blood drips from her nose and mars the fabric.
