was ranting about one of my pet peeves which is when a book is marketed exclusively with fanfic buzzwords and then i imagined an instagram ad for my dark ass psychological thriller with corporate art and fanfic buzzwords and lost my shit
The embarrassment as drool drips down around the gag from the corners of their mouth
Bruising and chafing that is very difficult to hide
Whumpee wearing a mask to cover it up
Or Whumper taking them to an event and forcing whumpee to wear a mask to hide the gag, while people at the event marvel at how ‘well trained’ and ‘quiet’ Whumpee is
Taped mouth. Duct tape pressed over lips. The smell of the adhesive. The residue it leaves behind. The tightness of it, the way it pulls at the skin.
The immediate control it gives Whumper. Pinch Whumpee’s nose shut and suddenly you have a writhing, spasming victim.
Or better yet, tape their nose shut. Make them believe this is how it ends, suffocating behind that plasticky scent, helpless
Sew their lips shut. The intimacy of it, the wincing every time the needle pierces their flesh — or maybe Whumper numbed it first, and Whumpee can only watch in the mirror as their mouth is stitched up, utterly silenced
The little noises Whumpee makes. The breathing around the gag. The whines, the panicked “mmmph”s as they realise the words aren’t coming. Maybe they try anyway, sounding stupid as they fail to hurl insults
Caretaker carefully removing a gag, horrified at the thought of Whumpee humiliated like this, their autonomy stripped
Caretaker gagging Whumpee to keep them quiet while they escape. The quiet “I’m sorry”s. The betrayal in Whumpee’s eyes; or maybe it’s acceptance.
Whumpee waking up to realise they are muzzled, the immediate dehumanisation, the panic to realise they can’t move their jaw, the laboured breaths to the thick leather or even metal strapped and pressing into their face
Cut out their vocal cords. Do it. Whumpee can't even make a sound. And they never will again.
Or cut out their tongue, the feeling of something wrong in their mouth, the shapeless screaming it causes
i think it's a little funny that, near as i can tell, what got me into whump was The Concept Of Illness from Real Life. and also '50s kids' adventure novels 🫠
"healing" magic that doesn't heal. it only supplements the patient enough to keep them alive through intervention. it just keeps the blood going where it needs to be, it keeps the lungs on a rhythmic cycle, it gives power to the organ systems, consciousness if necessary, et cetera. that way, a lethal injury becomes survivable, if only a healer is there to become their life support while the medics do their job. a deadly poison becomes curable if there's enough magic to keep the heart beating. torture can last forever with the right magic user, willing (or coerced) to keep a victim alive until they break.
What bothered her about it the most, really, was the unpredictability of it all. On the days that he simply rolled off her and got in the shower, or walked out the door, she knew it was over for a short time. And those times where minutes bled into hours, when the abuse turned into a marathon session, at least she knew what to expect, that she had no choice but to endure. But when he hung around like this, lounging like the basement prison was his living room, she could never know if or when he would start up again.
Alec was leaning against the headboard of the bed, scrolling on his phone. The casualness of it burned, the sick contrast — he was sprawled out, comfortable, one hand folded behind his head. Vienna, meanwhile, had her hands bound above her head, a cloth gag tied around her mouth, body burning in places she didn't want to think about. She couldn't help but think how absurd it must look, a grotesque tableau of a man and his plaything.
Please let him leave…. She prayed silently. Please let it be over….just for a little while……
She tried to will it into existence. When he left, in just a minute, she'd get up and take a shower. That was always first. Then….maybe she'd make a bracelet. Alec had gotten her a set of colorful strings after she completed his most recent "challenge" (kneeling next to his chair holding his drink for a full television show) and she'd chosen the bracelet kit as her prize, eager for something tactile to do with her hands. While she was doing that, she could put on the TV for some background noise, maybe she could watch —
Alec set his phone down on the bedside table.
Every nerve in Vienna's body lit up in frightened anticipation.
He let out a low, contented sigh as he rolled back towards her. Absolute dread flooded her as his hands begin to trace her body, starting at her shoulders.
"Tell me to stop, and I will."
Instinct drove her and Vienna immediately tried to cry "STOP!" — but the gag muffled her words hopelessly.
"Huh?" Alec cocked his head, hands sliding lower. "Didn't quite catch that. Try one more time, come on."
Humiliation burned, but she did try, couldn't help herself, couldn't ignore even the smallest sliver of hope that she might be able to stop him. Sometimes, if she begged loudly or desperately enough, he really would give her a little respite. She hadn't quite learned yet that the was part of the game, encouraging her resistance in the long run.
And this, really, was the true purpose of the restraints and gag. As time went on, it was exceedingly clear that Alec had no worries that Vienna could slip away from him while he was in the room, and certainly had no issues with her struggling or screaming out — in fact, he often taunted her and encouraged her to be louder, fight him harder. Many times now he wasn't even bothering with tying her up. No, these were more like….accessories. Fun additions to his game that added that extra layer of humiliation and helplessness that he loved to see.
"Do you ever pinch yourself?" Alec asked her. "To remind yourself you're actually here? This is really happening? I do."
And he pinched her side, so sharp that she jerked and squeaked in pain.
“You have no idea,” he said, voice low and tight with excitement, “how much I thought about you. Every move, every little thing. And now…” He leaned closer, eyes glinting. “.…I have you.”
Her stomach twisted violently, bile rising, and for a moment she wanted to scream, no matter how useless it was.
"I imagined you so often. Just like this."
He let the moment stretch, and Vienna was sure it was going to happen now, he was going to start again, and she tried to brace herself, relax her muscles so it wouldn't hurt too badly — but then he stood.
Oh, thank God. The movement away from her made Vienna's muscles uncoil more than her own will ever could.
"You're so transparent, you know that?" Alec laughed at her as he got to her feet. "You can't wait for me to leave." He started doing up his pants, looking at her with a lecherous fondness. "Well, don't say I never did anything for you."
He turned to go, striding to the door and holding his thumb up to the fingerprint lock. But — wait, wait —
Vienna's cry rattled against the gag and she shook her hands and ankles in the restraints, trying to communicate, Let me out let me out you forgot to untie me —!
"Aw, what's the matter? You don't want me to go?" Alec crooned, turning back every so slowly. Cruelty glinted in his eyes as he approached the bed again. "No can do, little girl. I have things to do. A life. Can't just sit down here all the time, can I?" He patted her cheek with mock affection. "I"ll be back, though."
His voice was low and smooth as oil as he described what he planned to do when he returned, where and how he planned to touch, to hurt, to violate, letting the word rape wash over her like it was a vow. The images forced their way into Vienna's mind against her will and she couldn't stop herself from trembling all over.
"I'll leave you with that to look forward to."
The room seemed to constrict as the door closed behind him. He was just messing with her. Surely. He'd walk back through the door in a couple minutes and release the restraints, he wouldn't leave her like this, tied up like an animal, the scent of him still all over her, still sticky and sore between her thighs —
No. No, of course he would. This was pure Alec, she knew now, wanting to control every aspect of her, whether he was in the room or not. He would love to know that he was responsible for this, for the spiraling feelings of panic and shame and visceral disgust, the feeling of being claimed —
Oh God.
She wasn't even a person anymore, not in the ways that mattered. She was an object, something strung up for his entertainment, his amusement, his pleasure —
She couldn't breathe. Couldn't exist like this for one more second.
A shriek let loose around the gag, loud in the quiet of the room. Vienna yanked against the ropes, twisted her head to try to loosen the gag, to feel something besides this, but she was utterly trapped. Tears stung her eyes, rolled down her cheeks and she couldn't even wipe them away. She wailed and struggled until her throat felt raw and her muscles started to ache, chest heaving with exertion, but still nothing changed.
Then she started to float. The room blurred.
She must have closed her eyes at some point, because when she blinked them back open Vienna wasn't in the room at all. In fact, she wasn't anywhere she had ever been before. Maybe somewhere that hadn't existed, until this moment.
The colors were hard to describe — sparkling, pastel, vibrant, and calming all at once. Creatures flowed around her, but Vienna wasn't scared at all. She watched in amazement as a parade of them seemed to go by, seahorses, dolphins, fish of every size and color, some that she recognized from reality and some that were completely fantastical. All of it was set in a world of clearest, purest blue. The color was….familiar, somehow.
Her pulse slowed, and she lay a hand over her heart to steady it further — her hands were free! Vienna looked down at her body: her skin was brightly tanned and unmarred by bruises, and starting from her hips down she had a magnificent, periwinkle tail. Like….a mermaid?
Vienna could have laughed in delight, and she let herself, the tinkling sound filling the air — water? — around her. She tested the tail, just a flick at first, but soon enough she was pirouetting through the ocean, swirling, somersaulting, completely free, even playful. Everything about this place was peaceful, and she spent what felt like hours exploring every nook and cranny. There were enormous pink shells with shining pearls inside, glowing caves full of treasure, a palace that looked stunningly similar to what she'd seen in The Little Mermaid, prisms of light and color streaming from the surface, marine animals of every type, every last one of them friendly and affectionate. If she had it her way, Vienna would have stayed there forever.
"There she is."
The words seemed to echo down to her, like someone was above the surface, delighted to see her. But not for any good reason.
So Vienna swam away. The sea creatures surrounded her like a shield, and she knew she was safe. No one could touch her here. Yes, she could feel pressure in what were now familiar spots, her chest, her hips. Not between her legs, though. She didn't have any legs. That was the most magical part.
It was nighttime now, and through the glimmering water at the surface she could see the most beautiful, otherworldly constellations in the sky. Twinkling, shining, brilliant. Vienna focused on them with all her might, making shapes and patterns from the thousands of stars.
Her cheeks were wet. Not just from the seawater, but from pure reflex. She could hear sounds — someone grunting, someone gasping — but it's like they were coming from a television set. They didn't belong to her. They rolled over with the waves of the ocean, in a gentle rhythm, until she was lulled back into something that almost felt like sleep.
Eventually, the room swam back into view. Dim, dank, practically colorless. Alec was in the bathroom cleaning himself up, splashing water on his face. The familiar ache seeped in — between her legs, on her upper arms where he must have held her down. The restraints and gagged were abandoned on the nightstand next to the bed.
Vienna's eyes filled with tears…. but this time it wasn't because of the pain, or because of what had just happened. It was because it was over — and she'd barely had to feel a thing.
The rush of emotion hit her like another wave, and she allowed herself a shaky, relieved exhale. She could tell from the wetness on her face, the ache in her muscles, that it must have seemed like she was still here. Crying, fighting him. But her mind….her mind had been far, far away. Somewhere even Alec couldn't touch.
Vienna was back now, every sense attuned to the basement room, to Alec just feet away. But she carried that delicate, fragile spark of hope back with her. She could survive. She could make it through. She still had something that was just hers.
She sat up for the first time in hours, gritting her teeth against the pain of her muscles and joints coming back to life. From the corner of her eye, she saw Alec studying her. She knew that look: the cold, hungry curiosity he got after he was finished.
For a moment she tried to reach for her underwater world again, for something fantastical and impossibly far away from here — then stopped. She had something better. Something that was real, or at least had been once.
Her family. Her friends. Her classmates, her teammates, Zander — they rose around her, a shield of ordinary love.
“You’re replaying it, aren’t you?” Alec's voice was a jeer. He dried his hands on a towel and came closer, the corner of his mouth twisting. “That’s what you see when you close your eyes. What I just did to you.”
Vienna blinked slowly, her lashes lowering like a curtain. She ducked her head, letting her hair fall forward to shield her expression. To him, it would look like shame. Like despair. Exactly what he wanted to believe.
But behind the veil of her hair, she allowed herself a smug smile of her own. Not enough to give herself away — but just enough to feel it.
Because he was wrong. So very, laughably wrong.
She wasn’t replaying him. She was replaying everything he could never reach. Her mother’s hug. Zander’s easy, crooked grin. The summer night air through her window, carrying the sound of cicadas.
He could do anything to her body. Break it, bruise it, violate it. But this? This was hers. Untouchable.
Alec finally pulled back with a satisfied grunt, apparently convinced she was lost in some spiral of his making. He turned and walked toward the door, the familiar sound of the lock beeping and clicking before the door finally shut for the night.
Vienna didn’t look up until he was gone.
Then, in the quiet, she pressed her forehead to her knees and let the ghost of that hidden smile return, fierce and secret. For the first time in weeks, she felt something like victory.
i loooove the saw franchise soooo much so when my friend Inspector-Bucket commissioned me for a horror-themed pic of his OC maurice i was ecstatic <3333 i like the cold teal color grading in the early saw movies so i made this one super green. i have some other alt versions so ill post those later!
you can pull recovery whump tropes/cliches from my cold dead hands. every time a caretaker waits at a distance for whumpee to touch them first, only to have that moment be when they fall asleep on their shoulder and they are DESPERATE to be chill and cool and not freaking out theyre so not brimming with excitement over this- an angel gets its wings
Whumpee curls into themself as they grip their hair and try to stifle the flinch they let out at the sound of their name.
It's fine. It's fine, and they're okay, and they asked for this. Caretaker still seems reluctant to continue every time they do it though.
"Whumpee, maybe this is enough for toda-"
"No!" They shout, looking up at Caretaker through their hair with a pained expression. "It's- It's my name. It's mine, and I don't-" Whumpee grips their hair tighter and grits their teeth, "I don't want to be scared of my own name forever Caretaker. It's mine. Whumper doesn't get to take that from me."
Whumpee's expression goes wild and desperate, choking on their words. "I won't let them take my fucking name from me. Not again. Never again."
characters who view themselves as tools/weapons first and people second... characters who martyr themselves for a cause because they think that's the only way they can be worth something... characters who push themselves past their breaking point again and again and again... characters for whom devotion and masochism are inseparable... characters whose self-sacrifice becomes self-annihilation...... what was my point again? i had a point. anyway.