“you can scream if you want. no one will hear us out here.”
“don’t you dare touch me.” “oh, you’re going to wish all i did was touch you.”
whumpee notices a suspicious stain on the floor. “is that…?” “aww, did you think you were my first?”
“i feel kinda… dizzy.” “mm, it’s about time. that stuff is supposed to work faster than this.”
“you don’t have to do this. you can stop now, and i won’t tell anyone. we can pretend this never happened.” “you think that’s what i want? to let you walk away like nothing happened? no, sweetheart. i’m going to make sure you never forget this.”
“stop—stop! i don’t want this! i said i don’t—” “i know, whumpee. and i wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“whumper, please! i thought we were friends!” “oh, we’re about to be so much more than that.”
“please don’t do this. please.” and whumper’s only response is to lean in and kiss their tears away.
if big sis tells you to relax, you relax.
if big sis tells you to play a fun new game, you play it.
if big sis tells you to sit back and take it, you sit back and you take it.
if big sis tells you that you're having her puppies, you're having her puppies!
she's your big sister for crying out loud, you'd be crazy not to listen!
Can you pls feed me more same story different cell au? I’m hungry for dream’s suffering and techno being the only one who notices and cares. Like does anyone try to get physical with dream before it’s made more obvious? Does techno stay out of it and let dream defend himself, so he can stay the mediator and not take sides, after all dream is the type of person to not want someone’s help anyways? Or perhaps dream has such an adverse reaction to the attack that techno is suprised and forced to step in?
i DO think things get physical between dream and probably tommy or quackity. i don't think it goes any further than shoving but it stems from neither of them trusting that dream isn't up to something. which is kind of fair, considering but yeah.
techno mostly tries to keep things calm by joking around but he would step in when it got physical. even though that's a fairly neutral thing - stopping a fight - i think tommy would take it as techno siding with dream. and he's not wrong. techno is kind of on dream's side here.
i think there's more than one physical confrontation. the first one comes when dream is brought back to the cell after their separation. they want to know what dream told the king, what he's up to, all that. at this point, dream is hoping what happened is a one-off and is shaken up but angry. so he does lash out when he's accused of colluding with the guy who just assaulted him.
the second confrontation comes after the next time dream's taken and he's realizing that this is going to be something that will keep happening to him. that one he just kinda. accepts. it's not like him. he seems off and techno realizes that it could very well escalate further because dream isn't giving them the reaction they want. so he steps in and has dream sit down with him.
and like, dream is kind of pissy still. he snaps a little at techno but techno does understand what's happening. i like to think well. i like to think that as a pig, techno can smell it when the others can't. so he ignores the snapping and still teases dream (though probably a bit more gentler than he normally would). trying to not to treat dream like he's fragile but at the same time knowing he's going through something deeply awful.
blackfyre reader would NOT have a good time around baelor and maekar. i suppose the brothers would keep visiting her despite having their own wives.
[ref]
I think Baelor visits Blackfyre reader whenever he's got an itch he doesn't dare scratch against his wife. Jena is a proper lady who deserves respect in all things, and when he lays with her he's the soul of chivalry. But that isn't always what he needs, nor can he afford the scandal of being seen on the Street of Silk, so he's visiting his little prisoner whenever he needs a quick, harsh fuck.
I'm writing Maekar ooc here but I think it would be fun if he eventually developed a habit of visiting her whenever there's something he's avoiding talking about with either his brother or his wife. Probably about his sons. It's not always like that. He probably started much the same Baelor, but maybe one time he couldn't finish and while reader was sorely tempted to just laugh at him, she also saw a way to humanize herself to him. It didn't work of course, she'll be locked up at least for as long as the princes find amusement in her, but at least this way she doesn't always have to spend Maekar's visits on her back. Sometimes he just sits and sulks until she sighs and asks what's wrong.
Vague posting again but listen. If you're pro forced birth in all situations with zero room for nuance, you should NOT get to be sitting here writing nsfwhump about brutal rape. Full stop. I dont care about your fucked up reasons. Especially if you hide it in your Likes and delete those Likes when questioned about them instead of answering or explaining. You do NOT belong with survivors, writing your violent rape fics, while you sit there comparing abortion to murdering people, and I think you know this if you're too scared to talk about those Likes and just pretend it didn't happen.
Side note, how the hell do I get tumblr to stop showing me this blog? I've blocked but tumblr still shows me them. Because every time I see them interact with yall my blood boils and my panic triggers. Someone told me once how I could completely hide them but I took too much time to cool off about it and I can't find that option anymore.
Here is a writing sneak peak for you all, it’s not great I will probably rewrite or iron out some of these parts but here is the intro to my newest whump “piece” lol
Our Angel- False Perceptions (WIP)
Sera sat in a long, smooth chiffon dress, packed with petticoats and intricate lace. She felt hot, sweat slowly tricking down her face. In front of her was a large ball, foreigners and diplomats alike dancing to frilly music. She sat next to the royal family at their thrones, four ornate chairs covered in gold, velvet, and sparking jewels. She sat in a much more humble lounge like chair, almost completely out of place if it weren’t for the velvet and golden accents which matched the royal perches. The four chairs in total formed one massive unit, drilling authority and elegance into any onlooker. Only she and prince griffin sat there now, the king and queen dancing romantically in the crowd and Lark was-
Sera shifted in the seat, her skin covered a sickly hot feeling. The sleeves landed around her mid arm, leaving just a trace of abuse on her skin to see if you got close enough. Her hands were clasped together on her lap. She hated looking at them. Seeing it. The ball and chain fastened around her ring finger. Her death sentence spoken out loud for everyone to see.
The golden engagement band sat on her right hand, upon long satin white gloves he had asked her to wear that night. To show his play thing.
Sera didn’t even want to think that this party was for her. For him. For…them. For the newly appointed singular body that they represented. The wounds on her back pushed out hot pressure, throbbing pain beginning to register once again. The ring had many small diamonds to form one large cluster resembling a flower.
It made her nauseous.
She couldn’t really register that this gathering, this flaunting of wealth, this unreasonable assembly of the high class in Maldeus, was to celebrate her demise. To celebrate her horrifying betrothal. To him. To Lark.
Thanks to everyone who stayed patient with me regarding Tyler's story. Here we are.
Tyler's facility is raided by the police.
[Masterpost]
Content (warnings): Implied noncon, facilty whump, whumper turned whumpee, whumpee covering for whumper (idk if thats a thing to tag but anyway), (sort of) parental caretaker.
Time passed differently within the white walls of WRU. It affected even the handlers, who had strict instructions to leave their watches in their lockers. If they had to check the time, they could use their work-equipped tablets outside the cells. If they needed to tell time in a session, they set vibration alerts in their smart bracelets or earpieces. And even for handlers, it was bad enough. Tyler Parker remembered countless moments of leaving the building after work, uniform switched for jeans and T-shirt, squinting his eyes overwhelmingly confused by the position of the sun.
He'd have thought, that experience would have helped him. Given him ways to measure the passage of time without outside cues.
It didn't.
In the beginning, he counted. Handlers. Beatings. Showers. Orgasms.
The voice counting in his head wasn't his own. It was hers. 238's. She'd counted, too. Her unit had been him. He'd caught her doing it, her lips moving, when she was sleep-deprived and high on something. He'd punished her, for wanting to know something that wasn't hers to know. She should only know one thing, he'd said, and that was how to be good for her betters.
She'd stopped counting, then. At least, he hadn't caught her again.
He wondered, at what exact number that had been. What her count would be, by now. At what number it ceased to matter.
Tyler stopped earlier than she had. But then again, maybe she'd stopped twice, too. Maybe she'd thought the same thoughts before the Drip. Maybe he would, too, after. He almost laughed hysterically, thinking about it. About going through all this, again. Just that the people torturing him would be strangers then, the very same people whom he knew now.
People like Jared Grimm, Head Handler of the facility, Tyler's supervisor. Had Tyler counted, he'd know if it was the second time, or the third, that it was Grimm's hand in his neck, pressing him onto the padded table. Maybe even the fourth.
Grimm wasn't sadistic in his fucking. He was methodical, cold, detached. Working through a routine.
"Fucking. Idiot," Grimm breathed into his ears between thrusts. "It didn't. Have to be."
It did, Tyler thought, as a strained whimper escaped his lips. It did have to be.
"Jared," someone said, far away. "There's a call from the reception, they need you."
The hand in his hair vanished. The weight on his back. The breath in his neck. The strain in his ass.
Grimm didn't even slap his butt. He was just gone, leaving Tyler exposed and cold.
Not for long though. "Hey, pretty boy," Dinah Richardson purred. "You look so lonely."
Tyler closed his eyes.
Time passed.
-
Jared Grimm stared at his knuckles, stark white as he balled his fist on top of his desk. He willed himself to unclench his hand. He was head of this facility, he reminded himself. He had worked hard to get to this position. He was capable. He had it under control.
"Say that again," he asked into his phone.
"The police," the receptionist repeated flatly. "FBI. They're here with a warrant."
Jared exhaled sharply. "Let them in. I'll meet them in the hallway."
*
The officer in charge was a tall woman, around his age, late forties, he guessed. Long, brown hair that started graying at the temples, tied back in a pony tail. A vaguely familiar face. And a chilling stare that bore right into his eyes.
"Mr Grimm," she said. "I hope you don't intend to stop me or my colleagues. We have a warrant. And anything you do to hinder me will only make your situation much worse."
Jared raised his hands in an inviting gesture. "No, of course. We fully support law enforcement." Financially, he thought grimly. Enough to avoid situations like this, he'd wagered. This woman didn't seem to have gotten the memo, though. He forced his lips to curl into a polite smile. "What can I do for you?"
"I am here to arrest Ms Carly Thompson and Mr Tyler Parker, both WRU employees."
Jared blinked.
Parker. Fuck. No. That couldn't be a coincidence. "I…" Jared's mouth felt dry. He forced himself to keep his gaze level, not to double check the state of his uniform pants. He hadn't even had the time to wash Parker off of him. "I… I'm sorry, I don't know everyone's schedules, I… I can confirm they both work here, but I'm actually not sure they're in today. It's pretty early, and-"
"I am sure." Her smile was icy. "Your receptionist has already told me that Ms Thompson checked in for duty this morning. As for Mr Parker, he seemingly didn't, but I… I actually do have a hunch we can find him here, Sir. And that you know exactly where he is." She folded her arms. "Get. Me. Tyler. Parker. As in, Tyler Parker himself, him able to recall his name, his mother, his past, and the crimes he committed." She lifted her chin. "Not trainee pet 002243."
Jared flinched violently. What the fuck. She couldn't know. Not what happened here, not even vaguely. But definitely not in detail. Not in this detail.
The muscles in her jaw tensed at his reaction. She'd guessed. A shot in the dark. And his reaction had just confirmed it. Fuck.
How could she have made such a precise guess, though? She knew his number. Nobody who wasn't in this building right now did. How-
"We are in possession of a video that has been filmed in this facility." Her voice was hard. "It shows Mr Parker and Ms Thompson drugging and torturing Ms Zsuzsanna - Suzy - Kowalski, threatening to make her into a pet. Ms Kowalski had been reported missing some days ago, then showed up in a hospital with no memory and serious brain damage. She isn't in a condition be interrogated. But we have proof, on this video, that all of this happened in here, in your facility, Mr Grimm."
It couldn't be. They had people for this, people that made sure WRU management knew before the authorities showed up in one of the facilities. And they would, he told himself. WRU could set this right. They always did.
Only question was, who would the company let take the fall for it. And this cop? She'd just put his name on top of that list.
Fuck.
This time, Jared controlled his face better. "I don't believe that's-"
"Mr Grimm," she cut him off. "Again. I do believe that. That video is… not shy on the details. And I would love to bring you and your entire fucking company down for it. I'm a very good investigator, you know."
Jared busied his fingers with straightening his jacket and tried a confident smile. It didn't work out the way he wanted. Still. There'd been something in her phrasing, something not entirely final. "I feel like you are going to present me with another option."
She raised an eyebrow. "Only if I get both suspects, in a state that allows them to be tried. And if you need to go make an immediate call to make sure Mr Parker is taken off from whichever drugs you use to mess people up, please, do so. Because I swear, if he doesn't remember his mother's face, it's not him going to jail, it's *you*, Grimm, personally. And I'm not going to stop at that. I might not be as good as you and your company are at destroying a life, but for you, I'll certainly do my fucking best."
"I…" Grimm stared at her. She was dead serious. "I… I think I didn't get your name, Officer-?"
"Ashley Browne." She smirked. "I didn't take my wife's name."
Her wife. That's how he knew her, how that face seemed familiar. There'd been a photo they'd taken from Parker's and the journalist's apartment, the two of them with his mother and another woman, who- Yeah. That tracked.
"Parker," he mumbled. "That would be your wife's name, wouldn't it?"
"Indeed it would," she confirmed. "So you better hand my stepson over right now, or I will make sure we turn around every last brick in this building and see what else we find."
"Oh no. No no." He shook his head. "You don't have the authority to do that."
"You want to bet on it?" She lifted her chin and raised the paper in her hand. "While we're here, with this warrant, my guys will listen to me, not you. And I'll have them turn on their body cams. Let's see how much we can find - how much we can film - until your bosses call my bosses and my bosses call me; such a hassle, only with the same old result that you need fall guys and Carly Thompson and Tyler Parker must be it. The more we see, though, the more names add to the list. Higher up the ranks."
"I-" Jared's mind raced. It couldn't possibly be. Carly would keep her mouth shut, with the right payment, just sit her time, be released, take the money and burn through it in some seedy beach hotel at the other end of the world. Parker however. The stupid asshole was a fucking liability. The attack on Alex. The pet lib journalist. That video appearing from nowhere. They should've put him on the Drip right when they'd brought him in. They should've shipped him out to another facility. They should've -
They shouldn't have played this lightly. But they had.
And now, the police officer in front of him nodded at her uniformed colleagues, lifted her hand in a sweeping gesture. "Search every room, every cell, every office. Turn on your cams, get a good look on every face you can find, trainee, employee, service worker, every single face, until we've found our guys. Clear?"
Jared had no choice. That woman was a fucking nuisance, but he couldn't take any other risk.
"Wait," Jared called. "I… I think I know where to find them. I'll make a call."
Browne stepped back and lifted her hands. "Good. Lead the way."
-
It was even worse than she'd expected. And Ashley had seen the videos. She had expected bad.
The boy - even at 24, even a head taller than herself and twice her weight, she'd never brought herself to seeing him as a grown man - was curled up on the oddly colorful tiles of a shower room. He was naked, his light skin mottled with bruises of various colors and shapes. Some from weapons, bats or batons, she figured. Most from hands.
She had to force herself to stand still. Not to fall to her own knees besides him, to run a hand through his wet blond strands, to hug him and shield him. Not to draw her gun and empty it into the smirking handlers around them.
"Our handlers sometimes get handsy with each other, after a stressful shift," Chief Handler Grimm said from behind her. His voice had a nervous pitch to it, but still, she swore she could hear a kind of glee in it. The knowledge, that this blatant lie, like so many others, would stay unchallenged. "We condemn any sexual relations at the workplace, but- I guess you know how it is."
"You don't get to assume what I know, Mr Grimm," she said flatly. "I'm a cop. What I know is what sexual assault looks like."
"It was consentual," another man said, and idly kicked a piece of soap over to Tyler. Ashley flinched, when it hit his side, the boy too weary to react. "Tell them, T. We had fun."
"It was consentual." Tyler's voice was all but a hoarse croak. Ashely's stomach turned. "It was."
"See?" Grimm said to her, and to him, "Clean yourself up, Parker, and get dressed."
Tyler struggled to push himself up to his knees, his hand shaking as he weakly reached out for the piece of soap.
It took Ashley a second to remember her duty. To remember that she was here to betray all her beliefs in law and order. Making a deal that was far from any justice. Saving her wife's boy. Who - given what Tara had told them - might as well have deserved all of this. But Ashley wouldn't be the judge of that.
She was here for Diane. She was here to get him out. Whatever the price.
"Tyler Parker," she said, a part of her wondering when she'd addressed him like that the last time. Tyler Frederick Parker, you call that cleaning up your room? It felt like yesterday. It felt like another lifetime. "Tyler. You are under arrest."
