Hello! Welcome to my whump blog, I hope you’ll take a look at this first!
Warnings:
This blog contains whump, pet whump, NSFW, noncon, general violence and such.
My NSFW posts are tagged as #NSFW, #nsfw mention, and #slight spice
If you are a minor/ageless blog, I ask that you do NOT interact with any of my NSFW posts. It makes me extremely uncomfortable, and I will block you if it happens.
Other Info:
My inbox and my DM’s are always open, however, I am VERY bad at replying
I’m more scared of you than you are of me
If you would like anything tagged to blacklist just shoot me an ask, anon or not, I very likely will agree to do it
Going to be so honest if you follow me or interact with me and you have your hogwarts house in bio you’re getting blocked. I don’t care if you say you don’t support JKR. I don’t care if you say “trans rights!”. I don’t care if you say I’m safe with you. No I am not so let’s just not bother.
This Blog Is Not A Safe Space For Zionists
❌🖤MASTER LIST🖤❌
TW for the series: Noncon, noncon drugging, the occasional drug use mention, suicidal ideation, dehumanization, human trafficking, torture, all pieces will have individual trigger warnings as well
This story centers around the general idea of illegal, underground dog fights, where in this case, the dogs are human beings. It focuses on Wren, who has signed up to gather information, and Zander who has been there for several years.
Note: this is NOT involved with the BBU/Box Boy content at all
Collab with @fairieboywhump!!!
Dividers From: @saradika-graphics :)!!!
Entire Master List Can Be Found Here!
Master List OF Master Lists Can Be Found Here!
OC Profiles Can Be Found Here!
For World Building(?) Content: The Tag #Worldbuilding?
For Ask Game Content: The Tag #Oc stuff
For In Character Content: The Tag #Oc Asks
For Character Art: The Tag #My Art
For Extra OC-Past Content: The Tag #Oc Flashbacks
And If You're Interested, I Do Have A Ko-fi @/spookyboyallen <3 Appreciated But Not At All Required :)
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Leon fell in love with Alexei exactly for his cold demeanor, his matter of fact way of handling things, the bluntness with which he spoke, the way he never held back what he was truly thinking. All things that Alexei believed would drive Leon away from him, because he’d already been made to feel like he was odd, unnatural, just wrong for the way he existed. I can imagine Alexei fighting for his life to mask when they start dating, trying to make his personality, his behavior, himself more “appealing”, but Leon tells him that’s not what he wants. He knows exactly who he is already, and that’s the man he loves. It’s the first time Alexei can remember feeling genuinely loved, rather than just tolerated.
Rescued whumpee, finally seeing their friends again, maybe seeing a lover again, and telling them: “It's fine if you don't want me anymore / after this. I get it, I really do.”
The rule could have heavy impacts towards trans people across society.
Last week, the Trump administration quietly released a sweeping new federal rule that would use funding threats to force institutions across the country to reject transgender people. The 400-page proposed regulation would codify the administration's anti-trans executive orders into binding federal policy, imposing a blanket prohibition on federal funds going toward "gender ideology"
The proposed rule, formally titled "Regulation for Federal Financial Assistance," rewrites the government-wide framework governing all federal grants across every agency. Among its most consequential provisions, it requires that before a federal grant recipient can receive money, the award must pass a "pre-issuance review" conducted by a political appointee—not a career expert or peer reviewer—to ensure it is "consistent with applicable law, Federal agency priorities, and the national interest." The regulation explicitly instructs these appointees to screen for "denial by the recipient of the sex binary in humans or the notion that sex is a chosen or mutable characteristic." [...] An institution that acknowledges transgender people exist—through its policies, its training, its healthcare, its bathroom access, its HR procedures, its name-change processes—could be deemed to "deny the sex binary" or to “support the notion that sex is mutable” and have its federal funding blocked.
Importantly, the gender ideology prohibition has no age limitation—hospitals could be targeted not just for providing care to minors but for providing gender-affirming care to adults, because prescribing hormone therapy to a transgender patient of any age could be deemed promoting the belief that "sex is a chosen or mutable characteristic."
This is all very bad and horrible, but I want to be clear that it’s worse and more sweeping than just eliminating trans research.
This torches everything. And I do mean everything.
A very abbreviated list of its ramifications include (but are not limited to):
ending funding for ALL DEI related initiatives
allowing the government to terminate grants at any point for any reason
preventing researchers from publishing, going to conferences, and being part of academic societies
requiring that topics must support the president’s agenda.
What this means, and if anything I’m under selling it, is the death of science and research in America. It allows the government to restrict any topic they please at a whims notice, putting officials who have no background in the topic in charge of deciding funding continuity. It controls what gets researched and if/how researchers are allowed to share their discoveries. There are no books to burn if the government never allows them to be written. This is fascism plain and simple.
Please, if you only ever write one public comment, this is the one to do.
Bringing back this guide to writing an effective public comment. This gives you the basics you need to know, what you need to include, a basic outline you can follow, etc.
Public comments are not a vote, it is a chance for you to say "here is an issue with this law I think you need to address" and provide justification for legal challenges if it goes forward:
"Comments raise the bar that agencies have to meet when making a rule; “if an agency fails to adequately respond to significant, relevant comments in a final rule, members of the public may seek to challenge the rule in court on that basis and claim it could be struck down.ˮ"
But also, if possible, don't stop at writing a comment. Don't stop at calling your representatives. You should ideally be talking to people in your community about this and organizing resistance on-the-ground; there is a good chance people are already doing that even if you aren't hearing about it.
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The LilithHouse Phantom Knight Series is currently in the final order countdown phase, meaning you can still place your order! Pre-order will close at any time, so act fast if you're interested!
Whumpee has to lean on caretaker not to fall down, and caretaker is so much smaller than them, so much more fragile that whumpee is afraid to hurt them by leaning too hard, so their leaning looks and feels more like embracing caretaker carefully by the shoulders.
Trans guy who keeps getting put in the therapist/mother/maid position in his household looks at his trans guy whumpees who keep getting forcibly house husband’d and turned into domestic servants and goes “ah fuck”
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Anya is LIVE right now
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Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Anya is LIVE right now
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Zander runs into an old friend :) takes place probably two or three years into his captivity
CW: pet whump, past whump, finger whump, beating
***
Zander hated the pound more than anywhere else Cain brought him when he was working. It was the same facility he’d woken up in after he’d been taken, the same facility he spent over a month being tortured in. Just walking through the door made his skin crawl, and walking those same back hallways that once made up his whole world made his stomach turn. Whenever they left it always felt like the first time again, stepping outside, taking a deep breath of fresh air, reminding himself he wasn’t stuck there anymore, it calmed him down, and gave him something to look forward to in the midst of the time Cain spent there.
Zander followed behind Cain as he made his rounds of the facility. He’d stop and speak with handlers, check on the conditions of the “products”, all the while Zander was expected to follow like a loyal guard dog, close behind, supposed to keep his eye out for any threats. He didn’t think anybody here would be stupid enough to attack Cain, even the other trainees. He kept his eyes down whenever they passed by one of said trainees, Zander couldn’t stand to look at them, knowing he was in their place only a few years ago. Seeing that defeated, hopeless look in their eyes was painful.
They stopped by one of the training rooms, a place Zander was well acquainted with. These rooms didn’t have doors, so Cain just stood in the doorway, watching the handler carry out the session. Zander stared at the floor, focused on dark spot in the concrete, wishing he could tune out the sound of someone shrieking as they were shocked by their shock collar. He counted the seconds until it stopped, the trainee left breathing heavily, whimpering as they struggled to catch their breath. He only looked up when the handler approached them, giving the poor trainee a brief moment of respite in their torture. Zander used to pray for moments like those. He didn’t immediately recognize the man, he never did, but he didn’t like the look of him, that smug look on his face. He enjoyed his job too much, Zander thought.
“Evenin’ Mr. Whitaker. Somethin’ I can do for ya?” He asked, sparing a glance at Zander who was now looking at him with wide eyes. He didn’t recognize his face right away, but that voice, he knew that voice anywhere, he still heard it in his nightmares.
“No, I’m just checking things out.” Cain told him. “Has this one been giving you trouble?” He asked, motioning to the trainee.
“Ah, nothing too serious.” He said, waving his hand dismissively. “You know how it is, sometimes you just gotta shock them back into shape. Had to use that method an awful lot on your mutt there.” He grinned, looking directly at Zander. However Cain replied, Zander didn’t hear it, all he could hear was the sound of his own heart pounding. All the worst memories of that place hit him at once, he felt like he’d run face first into a brick wall. Being recorded as he was forced to lick his boots, the soap he’d shoved in his mouth, shocking him until he fell unconscious, being beaten, spit on, taunted, Emerson was always there, bypassing the supposed reason of “training” and going straight into cruel entertainment.
Zander didn’t remember attacking Emerson. One moment he was at Cain’s side, and the next both he and Emerson were on the floor, Zander slamming his fist into his face over and over and over again. There was blood on his hand. Emerson was trying to fight him off, while Zander split his knuckles on his teeth, and he kept going despite the pain. He thought Cain might’ve been yelling at him, but he couldn’t really hear him over his own shouting.
“Fuck you! Fuck you! You fucking piece of shit!” He screamed in his face. He could see the fear in his eyes, he never knew it could be so satisfying to see somebody afraid of him. Emerson tried to fight him off, he tried to hit him in the face, but as soon as his hand was close Zander snapped, catching his finger in his mouth. He bit down as hard as he could, he could’ve sworn he’d heard a sickening crunch before Emerson screamed in pain. There was blood in his mouth when he finally wrenched his hand free, and Zander spit it in his face, he almost laughed at him, he looked as awful as Zander had felt all that time he was there.
His attack didn’t last much longer. An arm was locked around his throat, he thought it might’ve been Cain until he was roughly yanked off of Emerson. He knew Cain wasn’t strong enough to do that. He was dragged out of the room, the whole time he fought, clawing at the arm keeping him from further brutalizing the man. He could see Emerson struggling to sit up, he wanted nothing more than to kick him back down, just like he’d done to him so many times before.
“Where’s his collar?” The man asked Cain, sounding irritated. “Why didn’t you shock him?” Rinaldi, Zander thought, of course. While Emerson was certainly worse than the head trainer in terms of cruelty, that didn’t make Rinaldi all that much better.
“He doesn’t wear one, he- he can’t.” Cain said. He looked shaken by the attack, he was staring at Zander with wide eyes. For a moment, the mask had dropped. He knew Cain always maintained a strict facade of being calm and in control when around here, but he looked horrified.
“What? He’s a fucking animal, Cain, didn’t your father teach you better?” He snapped at him, and Zander saw Cain quickly recover. He knew he couldn’t stand to have his authority and methods of handling Zander questioned.
“Due to excess use during his training,” He started, talking down to the older man, “It became more of a hazard to his body than a means of control. I’ve brought him around here plenty of times and this has never happened, it didn’t seem necessary.” If Rinaldi had an issue with that, he didn’t say so, finally dropping Zander as he’d quit struggling. He’d been running on adrenaline and now he was crashing, he felt weak, shaky, taking slow, deep breaths. He saw Emerson finally stumble out of the room, his face looked awful, broken nose, busted lip, one eye was already nearly swollen shut. Zander wished he’d gotten both eyes. He wished he’d knocked his teeth out. He wished he’d given him more than just a small fraction of what Emerson had done to him.
“You need to have that fucking mutt put down.” Emerson snarled at Cain, who turned his glare to him.
“I don’t remember asking for your opinion, Waylon.” He said coldly. Cain only used people’s first names when he didn’t respect them. Zander almost started laughing. Even through his injuries, he could see Emerson was furious, but even he wasn’t stupid enough to snap at Cain.
“Can you stand?” Cain asked Zander, and he nodded, taking a deep breath before forcing himself up. His legs were shaking, and there were cuts across his knuckles, but other than that, he was perfectly fine. It felt like a victory, walking away with just scrapes while Emerson looked like that. It felt even better than winning in the ring. Rinaldi was glaring at him, but Zander didn’t want to meet his eye. He hated to admit it, but the man still scared him, he still felt like he was in trouble when he looked at him, like that horrible collar would go off at any moment, despite the fact he didn’t even wear it anymore.
Cain ordered the two men to get back to work- the look on Emerson’s face made Zander really want to laugh- before leaving with Zander. He technically still had more to do, but Zander assumed he wanted to get his punishment over with at home. As good as it felt, he knew he most likely would be paying for it some way or another. He didn’t care what it would be though, he already knew it was worth it. Cain was quiet on the ride home, he looked like he was lost in thought, and he didn’t speak to Zander again until they’d gotten through the door.
“Zander…” He started, shutting the door behind them.
“Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m going.” He sighed, walking towards the hall.
“No, Zander, stop.” He told him, and he did, he turned to face him. Cain looked deeply concerned, Zander wasn’t sure he’d ever even seen him look like this before. “What… what did he do to you?” He asked. Somehow, this felt worse than whatever punishment could’ve been waiting for him. Zander just stared at him for a moment, unsure of what to say. Why should he tell him? He didn’t really want to hear Cain laugh at some of his worst memories too.
“Doesn’t matter. I’ll be in the room.” He tried to turn around again, but this time Cain grabbed him by the arm.
“I’m not going to punish you.” He said, and Zander narrowed his eyes. This felt like a trick, Cain wasn’t like this, merciful, sympathetic.
“I’m not going to tell you. It doesn’t matter. Why do you fucking care anyway?” He asked, jerking his arm away, and Cain glared at him.
“I don’t care, I just- fuck, I don’t think I’ve even see you do that in the ring.”
“He deserved it. Those people don’t.” He shrugged. “Now leave me alone.” He started walking back to his cell. He’d feel safer there.
“I’m trying to fucking talk to you!” Cain snapped at him.
“Well I don’t want to talk!” He snapped back. He stormed off to his cell, Cain following behind him. He couldn’t shut the door to the cell himself, so he went into his bathroom, slamming the door shut and locking it. He felt a little like a kid throwing a tantrum, but it was also nice to exercise some control in this situation. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down as he stood with his back against the door.
Across from him was the mirror, for the first time since the incident he saw his reflection. He looked about as disheveled as he normally looked, but there was blood on his hands, on his face even. His teeth were stained with it, he wondered how much damage he had really done to his finger. He wished he’d bitten his thumb clean off, remembering how he’d stand there, thumb resting on the remote to Zander’s shock collar, holding the button down for so long Zander thought it would kill him. Some days he’d wished it had.
He got started on cleaning himself up, washing the blood off his hands, using a towel to clean off his face. At some point Cain started banging on the door and demanding he come out, but Zander just ignored him. After a while, he gave up, telling Zander he didn’t care anyway, and he heard the door to his cell slam shut. He was finally alone, and he allowed himself to relax. He was completely worn out after that incident, he finally went and laid down on his bed, when he closed his eyes, he thought about how Emerson had looked, he thought about the fear in his eyes as he beat him. For the first time in years, Zander fell asleep happy.
I keep thinking about this piece but specifically imagining Cain talking down to the trainers after they get mad at Zander using his “I’m in charge” voice, like a mom getting on to someone who scolded her kid, while Zander stands there smiling smugly with blood all around his fucking face.
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