#implied slavery

[studyofwhump]

“Welcome to your new home, Whumpee. You’ll get used to it in time, but there are a few rules we need to go over first…”

[seeminglyuseless]

The Woman with Golden Fingertips

Headcanons for Uro for my kickass friend (tis is me just making up characterization lmao)

Uro's life during the Heian Era was frustratingly unremarkable; born into a world in which sorcery served as a currency for power, she was just strong enough to achieve something, but never enough to be anymore than a side note on someone's peripheral.

Namelessly walking across the earth as servants for another family, Uro couldn't reach for anything she really wanted.

I think that she was born alone, and was sold to the Fujiwara's military troops at quite a young age, due to her promising technique.

Much like Sukuna, she shares a hunger for status, but she never had much more ambition aside from a leading a life of what she considered comfort. This helped her rise in rank until she was at the top, but Uro could never conceive of anything beyond this, so she never surpassed this level and remained stagnant.

This also meant that while her technique had potential, she stopped progressing at some point, unable to reach the heights of someone like Satoru Gojo or Sukuna due to her mental blockage.

That blockage resulted from the Fujiwara grooming her into a leader of their military faction. They systematically cut down any development into anything bigger that Uro could have been, since that would eventually mean her alienation from their ranks.

During this era of Jujutsu, we are still discussing the Strongest as a concept of individualism and selfishness in pursuit of your goals, not a symbol of unity as the finale suggests (in my opinion), so when Uro reaches her climax at the top of the military power structure, she stops progressing. This is for a few reasons.

One; her progress until this point had been pushed by the Fujiwara, who her entire identity formed around. When she reached this military station, she didn't have a need to change anymore, since that was where she was supposed to be.

Secondly, when this goal was completed, she simply had to work to maintain it, anything around that didn't exist anymore, and so she couldn't keep up with the rest of the sorcery world. Not pushing further is basically one of the biggest faults you can have in JJK, since that conflicts with the idea of exceeding your own limits.

Lastly, I think she gets comfortable, because like said, she didn't really know a life outside the Fujiwara, and had no metric of freedom.

Subsequently, these three factors lead to her eventual defeat. Uro couldn't keep up with the rest, and fell off. The Fujiwara noticed and threw her away when they had the chance.

They gave her a name and executed her. Strangely, this little action of giving her a name promptly accelerates Uro's identity. Not because she has a name now, but because it signifies the betrayal at the hands of the Fujiwara.

It's like being gutted; Uro spent her entire life serving them without question. She is so confused, when they come to lock her up for the ceremony, she doesn't resist and just walks along.

Her hatred and rage are so tight in her chest, it feels like her cursed technique is crushing her, and so she makes a decision without the prompting of her masters for the first time. It's a decision of defiance. She strikes a deal with Kenjaku just before her execution to come back during the culling games.

If they betray her, if they use her and sentence her to death, than she shall outlive them.

Meeting Yuta then was a massive middle finger, because in the end, she never even got to outlive her abusers, and their wretched blood keeps running in the modern world.

Same with Sukuna; the man that lead her to her downfall through defeat is uncontested in the modern era, and she is paralyzed by fear, and can't face him.

That beautifully sums up the tragedy of her character. Too late did she realize she was just being used, and when she did, she still couldn't break the programming of her conditioning.

Uro deserved better, but she can't get better; not in the Heian era, and not in the Modern era.

[dreidragons]

A Dungeons and Dragons Story : Before He Was Des Freeman

Part 1 of 2

[writermich18]

Code Geass and Portal Writing Prompt

Britannian nobles sell Suzaku to Aperture Science. If you choose to have this happen during R2, then best to place the selling between R1 and R2, during or after Julius Kingsley but before Lelouch regains his memories. If it's during R1, perhaps right after Suzaku's failed execution?

Either way, Suzaku loses his left arm, gets it replaced by a prothestic arm that can transform into the portal gun. Or he can lose both arms, orange portal gun on one arm and blue in the other? Or he can do a different set of experiments from Chell's.

[marionmaverick]

BG3 verse + Calem head-canons.

With suddenly being anonymous again, Calem holds onto that. He avoids mentioning his title as one of two Warriors of Light and tries to brush himself off as a regular adventurer. Will tell some stories but sticks to the more mundane.

He shares the title with Eryn in the Baldur's Gate 3 crossover. The events rather equally split, with Calem being the one sent to the first and tied up with Zenos, while Eryn mostly deals with the more political and mundane quite often.

He has similar trauma to Astarion, but doesn't talk about it. Different from his title though, no one on Eorzea knows his past either. Will say he "left" his tribe at sixteen rather than being sold to a Garlean Legatus, among other things. Is happy to describe how seekers work or mention he's a hybrid, but will get annoyed if people start asking overly personal questions.

Also: whether romanced or not, He gets mad if Astarion refers to him as "pet" or "Treat". He apologizes quickly after snapping, but it's obvious it's a sore spot.

He has an electric burn scar on his neck from the Garlean shock collar he wore shorting out, as well as permanent nerve damage that causes chronic pain. It's hard to hide those, so he acts like they are from separate incidents. Usually referring to the nerve damages as being from an illness.

He thinks he's over the bad things that happened in his past, he isn't.

The only way to learn this is to 1. figure it out yourself 2. see it through echo visions or tadpole mind-fuckery 3. Be very, very high approval with him and see an incident that would trigger it.

[pencilofawesomeness]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

@whumptober Day 13

Back at it again, with the Guili Assembly peeps, where I extrapolate an entire character out of a few visuals and two words of spoken dialogue. 

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No. 13 CAN’T MAKE AN OMELETTE WITHOUT BREAKING A FEW LEGS Fracture | Dislocation | “Are you here to break me out?”

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Title: No Freedom From War Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: Gen Fandom: 原神 | Genshin Impact (Video Game) Words: 2529 Relationship: Bonanus & Xiao | Alatus (Genshin Impact) Characters: Bonanus, Xiao | Alatus, Xiao | Alatus's Previous Master, Bosacius  Additional Tags: Whumptober 2022, Prompt Fic, Whump, Bonanus is Called Chizapus, Slavery, Imprisonment, Torture, Implied/Referenced Torture, Guili Assembly (Genshin Impact), the archon war, Pre-Canon, Blood and Injury, Sleep Deprivation, Xiao | Alatus Needs a Hug (Genshin Impact) Summary: 

Before Bonanus became one of the Five Yaksha, young-Chizapus was almost taken by the God of Dreams. Almost.

[null-whump]

Whumptober 2021

Day 2 - Alt. Prompt #3 - Caning

Ohhhhh boy this one is a bit late. I kept getting distracted while writing it and now it's 1:30 in the morning. It's still October 2nd somewhere, right? Anyway I did enjoy writing this so I hope you guys enjoy reading it! It's a follow-up from day 1! because I love Darion :))

I'm writing for Felix soon I promise

Warnings: Caning/beating (obviously), implied slavery

Word Count: 1,340

Alt. Prompt #3 – Caning

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It had been three weeks since Darion first woke up as Igneous’ captive, and they weren’t any closer to escaping. Just the opposite, in fact – their situation was even more hopeless than before – which they were reminded of every time they remembered the bronze metal bands that circled their neck and upper right arm.

Igneous had installed them on the second day, and Darion had fought against it, or tried to, but they were chained down and there was nothing they could do, and by the Stars, they had never felt so helpless.

The collar – the slave collar – was enchanted. A powerful spell that bound Darion’s life force to Igneous, meaning that Igneous could kill them with little more than a thought. It also meant that Darion couldn’t kill Igneous without killing themselves. In short, they were trapped until they could get the damn thing off. The armband wasn’t anything special. It marked them as a ‘dangerous’ slave; someone to be watched closely and not allowed near weapons. From what Igneous had told them, they suspected that all of his slaves wore it.

So, yes, they were trapped. But that didn’t mean they were going to be cooperative.

The door to their cell creaked and swung open as Igneous entered and walked toward them. Darion didn’t move from where they were sitting against the far wall. They were tired, their entire body ached and throbbed from three weeks of what Igneous called ‘training’ and they just wanted to rest.

“Get up.”

Darion clenched their jaw and stared at the floor. They heard Igneous’ short staff whistle through the air and flinched back, but it didn’t hit them – instead the wooden stick stopped a hair’s breadth from the side of their head.

“You’re not going to accomplish anything if you make this hurt more than it’s already going to,” Igneous said calmly. “Get up.”

Darion hesitated, then slowly pushed themselves up, first to their knees, then to their feet. The chains on their arms and ankles rattled with the movement. They swallowed hard, fighting back the wave of nausea brought by the pain radiating through their body. Igneous’ staff rested atop their bare shoulder.

“Good.” The staff moved away. “Are you ready to follow orders now?”

“Fuck you,” Darion snapped, but the anger in their voice sounded forced even to their own ears.

Igneous gave a hmm of disapproval. “Not quite there yet, I see.” He brought his staff up and smacked into the palm of his left hand. Darion barely held back a flinch at the movement. “Well, you know how to end this, if your pride will allow it.”

That was all the warning he gave before he swung the weapon against Darion’s side. They stumbled, not prepared to take the blow, but righted themselves quickly. Their chains scraped and clinked against each other. The next stroke landed across their back, then again on their side, then their arms – the gaps between each strike were unpredictably timed, just enough that Darion could never know exactly when the next one would hit.

An especially hard blow fell against the back of their legs, and they nearly fell, only just catching themselves before they landed on their knees. They barely had time to straighten up again before a blow across their shoulders made them double over again. They never allowed themselves to let out more than a gasp of pain at the hardest blows because they couldn’t bear the thought of being reduced to screams and tears at the easiest part of the pain.

Another strike, a stumble, a breath, a pause – a hit against their arm, and they bit their lip to keep quiet, almost forgetting to breathe in the space before the next – crack, and they felt blood trickling down their back as their skin split from the blows, then again – crack in nearly the same spot, and they stumbled hard, tears burning in the back of their eyes, before the next blow sent them to their knees.

They barely had time to think ‘fuck’ before the staff was raining down blows without pause, because that’s what happened when they fell, when they couldn’t even fucking stand up properly. They pulled their shaking arms over their head as the stick struck them again and again and again and again – at some point, their cries began to choke off into sobs, until finally, the pain stopped coming.

They tried to stifle their whimpers as they curled further in on themselves on the ground. The end of the staff slammed into the ground next to their head.

“Get up.” Igneous didn’t even sound winded.

Slowly, carefully, Darion moved their arms away from their head and tried desperately to gain control of their breathing as they pushed themselves up. Their chains dragged against the floor with every movement and pulled against their aching limbs. The weight dragged them down, and they had to fight not to give in and collapse on the floor. Their body screamed in protest, and another sob escaped them as they maneuvered their battered legs underneath them so that they could stand.

By the time they made it onto their feet they were trembling from head to foot, and they knew they wouldn’t be able to stand for long.

“Good,” Igneous said.

They steeled themselves for the next blow, and then the next, until their vision blurred, and their legs gave out and they were on the ground again, curling in on themselves against the horrible barrage of pain on top of pain on top of pain – until it stopped again, and they were allowed to breathe, in shuddering gasps that sent tremors through their body.

“Get up.”

Darion could barely hear him over the ringing in their ears. The staff struck their back again and their cry was more of a whine, their abused throat unable to manage anything more.

“Get up,” Igneous repeated, his voice as calm as ever.

Darion tasted blood in their mouth. “Please,” they whispered, their voice breaking. “I – I can’t –” they cut themselves off, unable to continue.

“Alright then,” Igneous said. “Stay there, if you wish.”

He raised the staff, and Darion could only shudder and wait for the blows to come again. They could barely think past the pain, could barely manage to scream or even to breathe in between blows.

When it stopped, Stars, they thought they might do anything for the agony to end. Igneous was talking but they couldn’t make out what he was saying until the staff slammed against the ground, and they knew they couldn’t take any more –

“Please,” they gasped. “Please, s-stop –”

“You know how to make this stop,” Igneous said.

The cane slammed into their back and they couldn’t breathe –

Darion sobbed, because they were in so much fucking pain, but they couldn’t give in, they couldn’t –

Igneous raised the staff, and Darion broke.

“No, wait –” they choked down their pride and forced the words out. “Please, please – m-master,” they whimpered.

Igneous was silent above them for several seconds.

“Say it again,” he said softly.

Darion closed their eyes and fought back a flood of humiliation. “Please…master.”

Igneous laughed lightly. “There you are,” he said, satisfaction dripping from his voice. “Isn’t that better, mutt?”

Shame clawed its way through Darion’s chest and held back any response they could have given. They didn’t move from their position at Igneous’ feet, shaking with pain and anger and fear and the degradation of it all.

“We made good progress today,” Igneous said. “I only hope that you won’t have forgotten it all by tomorrow.”

Darion didn’t register when Igneous left the room, they only heard when the door shut with a clang that rang in their ears for what seemed like an eternity. They didn’t bother trying to move when they were alone. They shut their eyes tighter and tried to promise themselves that they would be stronger when tomorrow came, even though they knew that it was a lie.

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@starnight-whump @chifechi

[shortoutau]

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Papyrus is very formal about the matter.