#oc aodhan

[chouettechou]

✨ My most special little boy ✨

[thewhumpstuff]

Dislocated/Broken Bones

@amonthofwhump, here is yet another vote for Dislocated/Broken Bones. I’m really trying to belt these out as fast as I can now. Kind of wish I knew exactly when the votes were going to be counted, like... The specific time, y'know for us procrastinators and/or those who got in on this a lil too late. I’m going off on the assumption that it’ll continue to accommodate our westerners and so as a person in the european zone, I still have at least a few more hours to throw some more in. Fingers crossed, I have 3 more planned. Quoting my dear friend @SableFlynn, who got me into this march madness mess to begin with, and who was quoting someone else: "With a heavy heart I shall be tagging this as lady whump for… engagement." I better get some, or I would have given up my honour for nothing! (I jest... Only partially.) Things continue to get worse for our lady. Drabble below the cut for safety and length. Cw: Restrained, whipped female whumpee who proceeds to earn a dislocation injury. Creepy male whumper pulling out all the stops and going to town with his whip (implied) referred bleeding wounds and described dislocation. Reluctant male forced to watch.

Just like she had once rhythmically and incessantly banged her knee against the roof of the trunk from the inside… A tattoo of a beat played against her. It left a tattoo of intertwining red lashes on her skin too. It was a sharp sound, a cruel sound, one that hurt her, quite literally, and made anyone watching and listening to it - Aodhan - wince. Peter was an expert with the whip, which was initially surprising. He didn’t typically descend from his throne to personally attempt wrangling the kidnapped people into accepting their new roles. But it became obvious why the whip that sliced the air and landed against Kadri with such ease, why it looked like it could have been an extension of Peter’s limbs. It was because he no longer differentiated between the thick rump and hind-legs of his horse… and the lithe body in front of him. And Peter liked to ride his horses. It went on till another unique cry that Kadri had never let slip tore through the rhythm. It echoed in the cell and forced an eerie silence. In an attempt to twist away from the cruel implement, while still being limited by the binds that held her in a semi-strappado, her shoulder popped out of place - visibly. Aodhan turned away as her already contorted form, now turned an unfamiliar sort of grotesque. Peter was disgruntled at the pause. So much so that he didn’t pause and let a few more lashes rain against her, despite the seeming urgency of her injury. Each evoked a heart-shattering cry. Till Aodhan was once again forced to beg in her stead for mercy, and subconsciously he wondered if she would at least now, if she could. His feet carried them of their own accord and once he made contact with Peter’s he could sense the satisfaction and joy that reeked from him. Aodhan could sense just how much he wanted to go on and how irritated this pause left him. He wanted to exert his dominance, he wanted to feel like no one and nothing could stop him. Peter wanted this, almost like a need. Aodhan was eager to break contact, it was difficult to know how much joy this brought the cartel runner. Peter made it easier, the man with his rolled sleeves wrested away from Aodhan roughly. Aodhan let go eagerly, Peter turned to stare him down, with a wrathful challenge. For once, Aodhan didn’t flinch, or back down, he held his ground, but his pleas were garbled and desperate. “Please… Please stop. Please, just… stop.” Peter’s eyes darted from Aodhan to the breathless, blood-streaked, awkwardly buckled Kadri and then back to Aodhan again. He threw the crimson coated whip to the floor, “Fine, fix her then. I’m not done.” With that, Peter left the two of them alone, like he had so many times before. But never had things been this bad.

[thewhumpstuff]

Stress Positions

So technically this is predicament bondage... Still stressful obviously. (Apparently it does count!) @amonthofwhump as the title states, another vote for stress positions. Once again, these are quick snippets of something longer that I do have planned. These snippets feature one of my main characters - Aodhan Gallagher, a side character - Peter Zaeva and the newly minted - Kadri (she was wrought just for this arc). Hopefully, I do get to expand these later and post updates for them. For now, have the drabble, below the cut!

cw: Implied nudity, thickly-veiled implied training for human trafficking purposes in the future, female whumpee restrained in a stress position. [If I missed anything lemme know]

If he had lost track of time, of seconds, of minutes of hours and days, he wasn't even sure the concept of it existed for Kadri anymore. Aodhan dutifully carried a washcloth, which was carefully folded and draped over his arm. Even this piece of rag is treated better than her. Aodhan thought. He could only hope that she learned to cooperate, just to buy herself some time, if nothing else. Resistance only earned her more pain. Aodhan thought it was a simple and potentially effective strategy. I’d just do whatever they asked, I don’t want to fucking… hang from ceilings and be beaten into submission. As he thought that, he wondered if that made him a coward. It probably did, he wagered. But he thought it made more sense to live long enough to fight another day. The door to the cell - her home - creaked open. It was dank, it had a familiar, but not entirely unpleasant scent of wet earth. Despite being rather cruel, Peter was finicky about cleanliness. Aodhan was surprised at how quickly this had become the norm. He had gotten accustomed to seeing her strung up in various uncomfortable positions. Peter would let her down sometimes, just to ask her the same question: Are you going to obey? And everytime, her response - defiant silence, hateful spitting, incensed hissing, blatant refusal etc. - would displease him. Today, Kadri knelt on meticulously collected pebbles, small enough to almost disappear under her, and large enough to leave their indentations. Her arms were fastened at her wrists and elbows, forced to remain unflexed, they were hoisted behind her and strung up to a hook in the ceiling. The laboured rise and fall of her bared chest, drew attention to the slow and heavy nature of her breathing. Aodhan was certain that the smallest movements caused her immense distress. The smouldering hate that her eyes held, for everyone, in time, had dimmed for Aodhan, till it was extinguished entirely. Now, when she looked up at him, she betrayed a certain weariness. Almost a detached sense of kinship. It seemed that Kadri had realised he was the closest thing to a friend that she had in here. His were the only pair of hands that did not deliberately seek to elevate her discomfort. His was the only voice that did not make demands, and berate her for her insolence. He was the only one who didn’t want her here as much as she didn’t want to be here. And yet, as Aodhan reached for the hose that lay at the back of the room, he finally asked her, “Why don’t you just give up?”

[thewhumpstuff]

Choking

@amonthofwhump as the title indicates. Here is my vote for the prompt Choking. Quill is still at it! I try, in a desperate attempt to get words out, so I may cast my votes. A cup of soup noodles is enough energy to run on for at least another prompt right? We'll find out in a bit, for now... Have this raw, unedited drabble! Cw: Implied kidnapping, restrained female whumpee choked, creepy whumpers, thickly-veiled implications of human trafficking and nsfw/nsfm themes. Snippet below the cut

He hauled the bundle held together by rope-and-duct-tape out of the trunk, her struggle was futile and yet, it was a constant. He dragged her out effortlessly, with little concern for her well-being. He was probably being kinder than what the future had in store for this young woman, especially given her demeanour. She tumbled out haphazardly and fell onto the road below. “Kadri, I think” Reynard casually introduced the captive who was still feebly making a fuss, squirming in her binds and scraping herself against the tar. “Don’t have her second name, don’t think it’ll matter… And I don’t know if she’ll be worth your time and trouble” Reynard warned in a disdainful huff. He was addressing a tall, immaculately dressed man. A man who went by the name of Peter and was wrangling a lithe, red-haired, sheet-wrapped being of his own - a young man. With that dishevelled scarlet mane and the piercing fern-colored eyes, it was hard for Reynard not to recognize the little punk, even when obscured by the night - Peter had his hand around the nape of Aodhan’s neck. Reynard made no comment except, “I still expect I’ll be getting my cut, it's not like they-” he gestured to the restrained woman with his chin, she was not worth the energy of a grander indication, “-come with instruction manuals.” Peter replied almost kindly, which would have been more unnerving to anyone who wasn’t Rey, than if Peter had retorted with something sharp, “We need not haggle or negotiate today, Rey.” Peter let go of Aodhan, who remained standing there, still as a lamp-post, impassively, hand idly clutching at the sheets that covered him below the waist. “She is perfect for what I have in mind.” Peter crooned, kneeling by Kadri and reaching for her chin like it belonged in the grasps of his fingers. She didn’t think so, so she twisted away from him with a low snarl that left nasally through her nose, since her mouth was still duct taped. Reynard shrugged with a told you so attitude. But Peter barely took notice as he clicked his tongue. “Go prepare the room for us Reynard, I’m sure Aodhan can help me bring her in.” Reynard made a sound that denoted agreement, and walked past Aodhan. Aodhan didn’t dare to turn and look, letting the burly man disappear into somewhere beyond his periphery. “Are you going to be as worthless to me as Ray promised?” Peter whispered, now clawing at Kadri’s jaw as he went on, “Because I’ll tell you what happens to those who don’t even try, sweet Kadri.” He raked his fingers down to her throat and soon had it wrapped in his grip. Without any more of a warning, he pressed his weight onto her, while curling his fingers tighter. She issued a slightly nasal, choked gasp. But Peter had no reason to stop just yet, “So… are you going to try?” Her skin between his digits, paled and then began purpling. Another choked whine followed, and then a silence crept onto Aodhan’s humanity, forcing him to break it, “She’ll try! I’m sure she’ll try! God damn it, just let her go, please.”

[thewhumpstuff]

Betrayal

Time for the typical man catches wife in bed with another man drabble. I intend to clean it up and add some details and just generally make it read better later and maybe post it on the side-blog when its time. This is for the prompt betrayal for the March Madness event. @amonthofwhump CW: Aftermath of sexual intimacy, nsfw and nudity implied. Nsfm theme. [Content below the cut]

She tasted like sunshine. He knew she wanted to. Nothing that she didn’t want, ever happened. So if he could taste sunshine glimmering in the darkness, then she wanted it to be so. Their bodies were entangled, their minds… were unravelled. The complicatedness of what they shared, lay in sharp contrast to the simplicity of what they felt. Like the taste of sunshine in darkness. They wanted each other. She definitely wanted him, Aodhan could sense that intensely. Perhaps he would have, even without what people called his... perceptive abilities. They lay on their sides, a laziness marred their barely noticeable motions but an eagerness marked the way they kissed and parted… One of her hips dug into the mattress, the other was carelessly shrouded by the sheets. Everything else was his to see, though he barely could. He didn’t need to see her, Aodhan knew exactly where every part of her was. Her legs were tangled in his, toes curling and uncurling like a cat. Her hands were hung over his shoulders like an after-thought… And then. With a certain climatic and cinematic creak and thud, the door to the bedroom room flew open. Light pilfered the darkness, the sweetness. It stole the sunshine that she was. Light that brought with it true darkness, of dread. Fear that was partial to Aodhan, embodied in the form of the silhouette that his squinted eyes stared at. Aodhan knew who it was, so did she. And it was too late to pretend like this tryst, was anything but what it looked like. The words ‘It’s not what you think’ would be wasted and they would be a blatant lie. What Peter saw, was exactly was happening. His beloved wife, in the arms- or rather, this young man, this... man-child, this... fucking boy in the arms of his beloved wife. There were no words exchanged. There was no movement made by the two on the bed, who lay petrified like obscene marble statues. The only one who moved, was Peter. He walked like a stalking predator, in a skulk towards the side that Aodhan lay on. Soon, Peter's long knotted fingers wrapped were wrapped around Aodhan’s wrist and he tugged the red-haired boy till he slipped out of the limbered arms around him. Till he was forced to slip off the bed, and scramble to his feet in a chagrin filled frenzy. The first words rang like a haunting church bell, “What are you doing home?” they were issued from the lips that Aodhan thought tasted like sunlight, and now… made sounds like a vengeful, entitled ghost. She wasn't scared, she didn't have to be, perhaps. Or maybe she was past it. The fact that Peter was not amused by her tone was made known when he grabbed Aodhan by the back of his neck and hoisted him off the floor. “I will deal with you later.” The way the grip around Aodhan's neck tightened, and the airy hiss like quality of the words Peter uttered, let Aodhan know that the words were unfortunately not meant for him. hiss, They were meant for someone further away - someone still on the bed. Aodhan was going to be dealt with first. He was going to be dealt with now. And whatever that meant, Aodhan knew it was not going to be good. Two shadows of figures were still entwined, Peter’s and Aodhan’s this time. The red-haired young man didn’t really struggle as he was dragged, but he did lag behind Peter, given the odd angle at which he was forced to stumble alongside the man. His legs were still a tangle, now all on their own, they slipped and shuffled over each other, missing the warmth they were clawed away from. The words that spilled out of Peter’s mouth, through grit teeth sounded like a growl, “I opened my home to you and this is what you do?” Peter slammed the door to his bedroom as they left it behind, to emphasize the depth of his simmering rage, from the brew of betrayal.

[chouettechou]

when you use he/him pronouns so Gale automatically thinks you have glistening muscles because that's the only option the game gives you.

[chouettechou]

⚔️🗡⚔️🗡