Let us see what you come up with for this prompt. As opposed to your whumpee who won't see anything.
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Please add the name of the whumpee and the movie or show your content is from.
Issue No 25: Blinded - You're brave because they broke you, yet broken still you breathe
@whumpers-monthly
Fandom: The Witcher (TV)
Whumpee: Cahir
Caretaker: Fringilla
Published: 2023-05-31, Completed: 2023-06-24
Words: 12,480 Chapters: 7/7
Summary: Post Season 2: After their lie is uncovered by Emhyr var Emreis, Cahir and Fringilla are arrested and thrown into the dungeons - in the same cell. With only one bed. First they bicker and bitch and blame each other for their failure, but this changes drastically when Cahir is tortured, and badly so, and Fringilla has to take care of him.
Excerpt from Chapter 3 - She′d hold your hand as you shook in the middle of the night:
"'m sorry," he whispers hoarsely and with difficulty. "The darkness— I - I can't see you."
"What are you talking about, Cahir?" she asks, surprised. "It's not that dark. And I'm right here. Just open your eyes and take a good look."
"It is in blindness that we find our true strength," he murmurs instead, his eyes still closed, so softly that she has to strain her ears to understand the words. A single tear rolls down his cheek.
Fringilla's eyes grow wide with horror. Now she recognises the words. It is one of the slogans they preach at the Church of the Great Sun. In honour of the first priest of the cult who, according to legend, when the sun suddenly turned black and people started to panic fearing the end of the world was neigh, stared right into the black sun until the blackness disappeared. He went blind for the rest of his life but his sacrifice to the gods saved the continent. Or so it is said ... But they cannot, they did not—
"Cahir, what—" She does not finish her question as the bitter truth is dawning on her. That is why he never really looked at her. Not because he was embarrassed about the physical proximity, but because he cannot see. The bastards not only beat him up. They also blinded him.
Read on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47540179
Whumpers-Monthly Issue No 25 - Blindfolded: Not cruel by nature
@whumpers-monthly
Fandom: The Witcher TV
Whumpee: Cahir
Whumper: Tissaia de Vries
Caretaker: Marti Södergren
Rating: Mature
Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Published: 2022-10-19, Completed: 2022-12-14
Words: 26,422 Chapters: 17/17
Summary: Botheration! How is this possible? She takes another deep breath and adjusts the firm position of her fingertips a tiny fraction of an inch. Why on earth isn't it working? It should be by all means, she is an expert at this! Not that she has done it against the person's will that often, nor does she enjoy it like some others do, Philippa Eilhardt, for example. No, it is not in her nature to be cruel. But cruel she must be. This once. For Yennefer's sake. It isn't as if the prisoner doesn't deserve it, either. The memory of the badly burned and screaming Triss and all her fellow mages who died in the battle will forever be imprinted into her mind. And here she has him, the enemy commander, the one responsible for the slaughter, his life and sanity in her hands. Perhaps she does feel some sort of sick satisfaction after all while her strong, slender fingers dig painfully into his temples? While the man, fettered to the stone chair, is screaming his lungs out ...
Tissaia is trying to extract information from the Nilfgaardian prisoner in the Aretuza dungeons with Vilgefortz's help. Cahir is not having a good time ... Lucky for him, Marti Södergren is a dedicated healer.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Warning: Graphic depictions of violence under the cut!
@whumpers-monthly @witcherwhumpweek
Illustration for Prison Blues Chapter 5 - Lost in the Dark
Rating: Explicit
Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence; Rape/Non-Con
Relationships: Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach/Emhyr var Emreis; Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach & Jaskier | Dandelion; Assire var Anahid & Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach; Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach & Merlin The Cat
Characters: Jaskier | Dandelion, Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Maria Barring | Milva, Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy, The Hansa | Geralt's Company Members (The Witcher), Emhyr var Emreis, Assire var Anahid, Merlin (the cat), Menno Coehoorn, Vilgefortz of Roggeveen
Additional Tags: Friendship, Trauma, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Implied/Referenced Torture, Torture, Aftermath of Torture, netflix season 2 compliant, cahir is not having a good time, Spoilers for The Witcher (TV) Season 2, Spoilers for Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski, Angst, Vomiting, Sexual Abuse, Implied Sexual Abuse, Maggots, Emhyr is an evil bastard, Hurt/Comfort, Whump, a few days after the battle on the bridge, and directly after season 2 ends, Panic Attacks, Cats are the best and bards, Jaskier is a good friend, Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach Whump, Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach Has a Bad Time, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat
The door of the torture chamber closes after the Emperor with a thud. Then Cahir is alone with the guards, who are still holding him in a vice-like grip, and the torture master.
"There," Dalgart points at the wall to the right of the brazier. It is just a bare stone wall, but hanging from chains from the ceiling next to the wall are iron manacles. The guards drag Cahir to the wall and fasten the manacles around his wrists. Then they adjust the length of the chains in such a way, that he is almost hanging in the air by his arms, only his toes just so touching the floor, his bare back toward the wall. Dalgart hands one of them a black piece of fabric that he uses to blindfold the prisoner. Cahir does not know if he should be grateful for the blindfold or horrified by the prospect of not being able to see what the torture master is going to do to him. At the moment he can hear him puttering around with his tools as if not yet sure which one he is going to use. A knife, but which one? Or a hook? Not a saw as he is not allowed to cut off anything, nor the head crusher, the risk of permanent brain damage or even death is far too high. Ah, this is a nice one. He has not used it in quite a while. A shame, as it is very effective. Not lethal, though, at least not if infection can be prevented. Which should not pose too much of a problem. Yes, this is probably perfect for the purpose. Dalgart picks up the Ungula. He steps away from the table with his instruments and walks over to the wall with the chained prisoner.
Cahir shudders as the man approaches. Is his brain just playing tricks on him in his terrified state or does the torturer actually smell like sulfur? Now he is standing so close, Cahir can feel his breath on his naked torso, making his skin crawl. Slowly and carefully and without saying a word, the torture master starts to move a pointed metal device down Cahir's right arm, from his wrist across his forearm, then from his elbow down to his shoulder and further along the length of his side all the way down to the waistband of his braies. It does not really hurt, just graze his skin a little, hardly drawing blood, but it sends chills up and down Cahir's spine and he almost forgets to breathe. This is really creepy. Dalgart repeats the procedure on his left side, this time with just a little more pressure. Again, Cahir shudders. The man must be some kind of pervert. Well, of course, he must be, why else would anybody want to become a torturer in the first place, and obviously enjoy the work?
The torturer rotates the instrument in his hand in such a way that not only one, but two sharp, claw-like tips are digging into the skin and muscle of the prisoner's arms, first the right, then the left one, and now it definitely hurts. Cahir suppresses a groan of pain as he feels the blood drip down from the cuts. And this is just the beginning.
Methodically, Dalgart moves the metal claw up and down Cahir's arms, his sides and finally his chest, sometimes almost tenderly and superficial, which creeps him out, then, all of a sudden, ripping, tearing and digging deep into his flesh like the talons of a raptor or the claws of a bear or other wild creature, making him scream with agony and shock. The blood is flowing freely now and Cahir feels increasingly lightheaded. As absorbed as he is in his endeavour, the torture master won't accidentally forget that he is not to kill him, will he? Or will he bleed out here, hanging from the dungeon ceiling in just his underpants? What a humiliating death. It isn't the end he had hoped for, no. Not at all.
"Almost done," the torturer, as if being able to read the prisoner's thoughts, suddenly whispers into Cahir's ear. "Jus' one more thing. Emperor's special request." With these words, and a deft movement of his left hand, he pulls down Cahir's braies. Cahir gasps in shock. But there is nothing he can do, nothing at all. Never in his life has he felt so helpless, vulnerable and completely and utterly at somebody else's mercy, somebody who is clearly mental. When he feels the cold metal tip of the torture device run lightly down the length of his cock, he is paralysed with fear, unable to breathe or think or even scream. Painfully slowly the claw moves around the tip of his penis, then along his scrotum, but, fortunately, only scratching the skin a little.
"Very lucky human." Dalgart's hoarse voice unsettlingly close to his ear. "I am not to harm you down there. Not today. What a shame. But maybe tomorrow? Or the day after? Who knows?"
Cahir, for sure, does not know, as he has fainted from the pain, loss of blood and shock halfway through the torture master's unusually many words.
Summary: After having lied to his Emperor about the elven baby, Cahir is sentenced to death. Or so he thinks. (Takes place between the end of season 2 and season 3.)
They blindfold him before he is pushed up the steps to the platform with the executioner's block. He does not like it that he cannot see the sun rise above the city walls. Without the ability to see, Cahir feels disoriented, even more vulnerable than if he could look fate - and his executioner - straight in the eye.
"Kneel!" a harsh voice orders. The officer in command of the execution, not the Emperor this time. The White Flame is not present in the courtyard. Cahir knows that Emhyr hardly ever watches any of the executions he imposes, but somehow, after their long history together, he had hoped the Emperor would deem him important enough to make an exception.
Perhaps it is better like this.
Cahir lets himself fall to his knees. Not much longer now, he tells himself. Just one swift cut of the sword, not the axe. The sword is for nobility. He will not even feel it. Or will he? If he could only see something. With the blindfold on, he cannot put his head on the block by himself, like on Thanedd. He has to wait for the guards to do it for him. But the guards take their time. Cahir starts to shiver in the chilly early morning air. It is not only from the cold. He is afraid, too, the palms of his shackled hands clammy with sweat, his heart beating loudly in his ears and fast. He starts to wheeze. What are they fucking waiting for? For him to shit himself in front of Fringilla? Or is the Emperor to come after all?
After minutes that stretch like hours, one of the guards finally presses his head onto the chopping block ...
