welcome to my guilty pleasure blog!! my name is bea and I'm 30. mostly using this space to explore different themes and ideas related to writing and of course all things whump.
Favorite tropes: captivity whump, recovery fluff/comfort, found family, noncon whump (always tagged), emotional whump, protective caretaker, forced to watch, happy/hopeful endings (even if - especially? - it takes a hot minute to get there)
Original Posts:
my prompts
my polls
my drabbles
Original Stories:
Unmade
Vienna’s abduction by a sadistic serial predator, Alec, forces her to endure unimaginable suffering which she survives only through the memories of her loved ones, including boyfriend/best friend Zander. While Zander spirals in grief, he forms an unexpected bond with a case agent, which leads him to an encounter with Alec that results in his own capture. Reunited in captivity, Vienna and Zander face more horrors before finally escaping. The story shifts to their healing process, where love, family, and resilience help them reclaim their lives after the darkness.
(Main characters - Vienna, Zander, Alec, Miller)
The Last Flame
Set in the dystopian future state of Syndora. Rixton, a pilot in the resistance group the Forge, is captured by the oppressive Syndoran regime and tortured for years, haunted by the deaths of innocent people. When he is finally rescued, he returns to the Forge to find Asher, his former love, who had believed him dead and strove to move on. As Rixton and Asher both battle guilt and the broken trust between them, they must navigate the long road to healing in the midst of a still-burning revolution.
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.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
“They’re terrified, can’t you see that? STOP IT - stop hurting them!”
Whumper tilted their head, feigning sympathy. “Oh, I see it. I see every trembling second of it. But thanks for pointing it out, coach. Should I go slower so you can really watch?”
Ever since I was a little girlthing I knew I wanted to see women, bleeding all over, barely alive, stumbling through the rain, knocking on a door with what little force their delirious limbs can muster, collapsing onto the floor in front of someone who's very horrified and confused at their current state, but who drags them inside and bandages them up, preparing to demand answers but ultimately being so gentle with her. Normally
Not the pain itself, though pain had its uses. Not the violence, though violence opened such lovely doors. It was the reaction after. The way shame bloomed. The way it spread through a person faster than blood. The way it took over all the empty spaces and made a cage sturdier than any rope, any wire, any grip around a throat.
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.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Character who had been in captivity before. Maybe they only got out recently, maybe it's been years.
There's an attack, and they manage to get into a safe/panic room. They're okay, right? They just have to wait here.
Except the situation is already stressful, and now they're locked up again. Different, sure. But they can't leave.
Claustrophobia and memories are slowly pushing down on them. It started off alright, but they feel more and more tense as time goes on. Going from fidgeting, to pacing, to trying to calm their breathing, to curled up in a corner, retreating back into themselves.
Bonus points if there's someone in there with them. Did they know about this? Do they know how to help? Are they close, or do they dislike each other?
Spring was showing her colours. New leaves of the cherry tree cast translucent, fluttering shadows into Elene’s bedroom. She stared at the light shifting like a thousand wings on five hundred fairies, beckoning her to rejoice at the rebirth of the world. But she felt nothing.
Carpets of blooms had started to appear on patches of grass, nature’s confetti. Tom was outside most days, tending to the flowers he’d planted last year. Calyx followed him, silent and contemplative as a shadow. He was careful with the plants, gentle, attentive. She hadn’t expected anything else. It hurt, distantly, to watch him though. He’d offered to show her what he was doing, leaving silent the unsaid. Elene had tried to hide it in the early days, and it had been easier back then. Back when she still had unrelenting, insistent hope. Back when there was always something to do, someone to call or something to clean. Now that routine had settled over the household, Elene found her thoughts drifting closer to the gnawing ache in her chest.
Last year, she’d opened the curtains one morning and realised that everything was pink. The sky, the trees, the ground. It was as if it’d happened in a day, the welcoming of spring. She’d stood, captivated, for long minutes. She’d practically floated outside, standing alone in the still light of dawn. She’d never appreciated it before, had never even noticed it.
She dreaded the day when she would notice it this year. Her heart fought against the dismissal of grey winter more than was acceptable, but she could not stop it. She couldn’t stop her heart, she couldn’t stop the coming of spring. She just wished that time would slow the fuck down.
No, she chided herself, a little more than harshly. That was unproductive.
Elene frowned, clenching her fist and letting go, purposeful and steady. Why wasn’t she moving faster? Why hadn’t she anticipated this? Why did she let them leave? Why didn’t she go with them? Why hadn’t she figured this out yet? Everyone kept telling her that it was impossible, and she felt like screaming - she had always been the girl who could do the impossible, even when it killed her. So why now, faced with the first impossible thing that she actually wanted to do, did her ability elude her? It was infuriating.
It was exhausting. She was… exhausted.
Really, it’d only been two months. Two weeks longer than Calyx -
Bad. Before the thought had even concluded, Elene hit her thigh. Sudden and violent, it burst with dull pain that she did not soothe. That sort of thinking was not allowed, she forbade it. It was unhelpful and cruel. It would make everyone hate her, and it made her hate herself.
Besides, the situations were incomparable. They all knew Clem was coming back. She knew Clem had to come back. They would. Of course they would. Why entertain paranoia? They promised.
Elene sighed, finally turning away from the window to stare at the bangle on her wrist. Ruth had been generous with her gifts, but Elene privately thought that this was her favourite. It was a deep orange, the colour you saw behind your eyelids when you closed them on a sunny day. She’d known immediately that it was magical somehow, and appreciated that Ruth hadn't explained it. She applied herself to the task of learning about it like that could quell the noise in her head.
The colour was accurate, in literal terms. It was their blood in there, the bangle existing as a sort of homunculus. It emitted no light of its own now, but if they were in a state of healing, their blood - and it - would glow. It made sense that when (not if, it couldn’t be if) they got back, they'd need to heal at least a little. And in any case, Ruth assured her that she'd be able to lock onto their signature if they came back from wherever they'd gone. They kept in touch over text, both of them poised to notify the other of any developments.
Familiar memories flitted through her mind, taunting and sickening. Brief bursts of anger came and went, and with them, she tightened her grip on the bangle. It was so much, not enough. She didn't want this ornament to remember them by, she wanted them by her side in this room, in her life. But she could not bear to throw it across the room like she envisioned, too attached to the only tether she had to them. She had a feeling it wouldn’t break, but she couldn’t stomach being violent to any part of them.
Elene hummed discontentedly. She didn't want to touch any of the books on her nightstand, didn't want to socialise or do anything at all. She placed the bangle on their - the other pillow and turned up her music, slipping into a familiar dissociation.
It was in the midst of this tepid torpor that the miracle occurred. The bangle started glowing.
It'd already been sitting in a patch of sunlight, so the change had not been immediately noticeable. But when it was, and Elene would later be mortified about this, she screamed.
She half-fell out of bed in her haste to get up, then reached for the small sun with no hesitation. When her fingers closed around it, she was stunned to feel that it was still as cold as it had always been.
Of course, she thought instantly, cold-blooded.
The awe did not dissipate in the slightest. Her bones felt just about ready to jump out of her skin. But what next? Would they reappear where they’d left? They’d be alone. How long till anyone found them? How long would it be before she saw them again?
It turned out, not long at all.
There was a sound. Something resonant, striking to the core. The sun came out from behind a cloud - the whole world seemed to glow brighter. The bangle started to thrum rhythmically, like a heartbeat. Then the sound grew louder, closer. Elene would later wonder whether she heard, however impossibly, the beat of wings.
But this all passed in a matter of seconds. The prevailing tone was unplaceable, most akin to a screech, a rapid displacement of air. Elene’s ears popped. Then the whole house shook, a resounding thud carrying with it a physical shockwave. A glass of water toppled off her desk and shattered instantly upon contact with the floor. But she paid it, the small puddle it created or the cuts in her feet that she endured, no mind. She was no longer really existing in her body, in both emotional and literal terms, particles scattering with a teleportation spell. She had always thought she would have to look for them, but Fate, uncharacteristically, decided to be kind.
Once again, Clem had landed in her garden.
—
From relative peace there burst a sudden and absolute chaos.
Clem, Clem, was crouched on the ground, on their hands and knees, wings out to their sides. Their eyes were fixed to the ground, quiet clicks filling the air. It was a testament to Elene’s confusion that she could not immediately attribute the sound to them. They looked different: their hands were clawed; their hair more orange, longer too; the wings, of course, were… resplendent, and big, bigger than she’d expected. They looked strong, powerful. A gouge had formed in the earth where presumably, they’d crash-landed.
Everyone was standing in a half-circle just outside the threshold of the house. She was aware of a thin tension in the air, as if . But it was Clem, Elene thought. There was nothing to be afraid of.
She stepped forward, grass cool on her feet. Clem registered the movement instantly, and Elene startled for one reason only. Not the scars, not the new sharpness in their face, not the suddenness of being fixed with such a piercing gaze. No. Their hazel eyes were orange now, reptilian. Draconic.
Elene thought she might cry. It was one of the most beautiful things she’d ever seen. Looking at them had the effect of being suddenly in the presence of a sunrise the likes of which you had never thought possible. Watching a painted sky shift and change with the incredible and illogical conviction that you were the only person watching it, that you were the only person who ever would see it in its complete and unaltered glory.
But no sooner than her realisation of this, Clem’s eyes flicked down, their body language shifting to try to make themselves, unmistakeably, smaller.
Oh, no.
“Hey,” she whispered, crouching down to their level. Then she stuttered, unsure what to say. Are you okay felt inadequate. I missed you felt presumptive. She hadn’t practised this part. Her daydreams never dared to go this far. But she watched herself as if through water as a shaking hand came up to cup the side of their face, tracing lightly over a scar she didn’t recognise. Their eyes met hers again, silent, searching.
“Welcome home, sweetheart,” she said finally.
The slit pupils dilated, then Clem’s body, already so low to the ground, seemed to completely give way, and they collapsed into her arms.
“Oh, wow,” they breathed, and she noticed a hand make a fist into the grass. “Missed that,” they said quietly, almost to themselves. Then, louder, pressing themselves further against her chest. “This is nice.”
“Yeah?” Elene’s eyes were full of unshed tears. It was impossibly nice to hear their voice.
“Very nice. Oh, also. Is Calyx okay?” Their speech came out haltingly, like they were trying to remember how to speak or couldn’t find the words. “Because I won, El. We won.”
Elene heard what could only be described as a squeak somewhere behind her. Clem’s eyes followed the sound, and fixed on Calyx. Elene didn’t turn to look, too comfortable in the embrace.
“Yes,” Calyx breathed, before dropping to the ground beside Elene. “I - really?”
Clem nodded, with effort. “It’s over, dove. You’re safe now.”
Calyx gaped, awe written all over their face. But Elene saw Clem’s eyes unfocus, a daze settling over them. They were exhausted, she could feel it, physically. Their muscles were all tense, and they were leaning on her to a degree that was becoming closer and closer to her taking all their weight.
“Okay,” she said, wondering how to voice this in the gentlest way possible. “I think we should all give Clem some space, hm?”
Calyx scrambled to their feet, never needing to be told twice. “Um, the couch is free.”
Elene replied without looking at them, absently stroking Clem's hair. “Thank you, sweetheart.” Ideally, they’d be in her bed under watchful eye, but Clem was falling asleep in her arms. The couch would have to do.
Behind her, there was the quiet sounds of people retreating. Only when the last person had clicked the door shut, did Clem speak again.
“Thank you,” they murmured. “I’m… tired, El.”
It broke her heart. No, that was too tame. It felt more like the very fibers of her myocardium were being rent asunder. She rubbed their back, holding them close to her chest. They were crying, she could see them crying and feel the tears on her dress, but they barely seemed to register it. The tears were just falling, like a dam had opened and nothing would stop the flow now.
Clem made a soft, pained sort of sound. But then she was surprised to hear a quiet laugh from them. “I don’t think I h’ve a choice,” they slurred. And then they were asleep. Like a light, as quick as fainting. They were unconscious, and silent as the dead. Had they been waiting for her instruction?
Elene shook away the thought. That was unimportant. Right now, anyway. The more pressing thing was the fact that Clem was asleep in her lap in the garden, and they couldn’t stay here all day. The grass was soft but not soft enough for aching bones. Not soft enough for her liking, certainly. And she would be the one deciding whether things were soft enough, now. This was all the vindictiveness she was capable of: if Clem could take matters into their own hands and take care of everyone, then she could do the same and take care of them.
A bird in the sky caught her attention. It was flying fast, in her direction, but when she realised who it was, Elene felt a smile grow over her face. Ruth was exactly the person she needed right now.
She landed effortlessly, making no mark on the grass at all, then stretched out to her human form in a movement so practised and smooth that Elene could not help but marvel at it.
“They just landed,” Elene said in lieu of pleasantries. Every conversation with Ruth was like leaving off from the last one, like no time had passed at all.
“Passed out?”
“Asleep.”
Ruth nodded, appraising the soft rise-and-fall of their chest. “The bangle worked?”
Elene nodded, a thrill rushing through her. She could hardly believe what was happening, half expecting to wake up in dismay. But there was no reason to stop the dream before it was over, if it’d ever be over. It felt like she was watching the world in technicolour, the most vivid sensations being the shine of Clem’s hair, the feel of their bones under the fabric of their shirt, a smell like blood and metal vaguely lingering in the air, the sure and steady thump of their heartbeat. With a skipped heartbeat, she remembered what the glowing blood meant. Healing. From what?
“Can you help me get them inside?”
“Oh, there’s a safehouse nearby -”
Elene fixed Ruth with a stare. Absolutely not. “No, thank you. Would you help me get them inside? I don’t have any spells for it.”
Ruth bit back a smile, then gave up and rolled her eyes, affection obvious in the gesture. She bent down and lifted her friend up in as smooth of a motion as her landing had been. However briefly bereft Elene felt at the loss of their weight, she noticed the softness in Ruth’s eyes as she looked at Clem, still completely dead to the world.
“I get why she likes you,” Ruth said. “Lead the way, princess.”
Elene blushed, pausing halfway through the action of brushing dirt from her dress. She had no desire to argue with the association, but she would define it on her terms. She could do the saving, too.
reading a “there was only one bed fic” and the characters have decided to share the bed as long as they stay on their sides. i’m really glad they figured that whole mess out and am excited to read about them staying on their sides of the bed until morning^-^
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.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Rather than keeping Whumpee in a barren room or dungeon cell, Whumper keeps Whumpee in a room full of mirrors. All four walls, the ceiling, even the floor. All mirrors, with nowhere Whumpee can look that doesn’t show their wretched, beaten, broken reflection. They can close their eyes, but if they do that, they’re likely to fall asleep, and sleeping means nightmares. Nightmares mean making noise, which draws Whumper’s attention, and then Whumpee gets punished. So the only thing they can do is stare at their miserable reflection and remember what they used to look like, before Whumper got them.
Until they’ve been with Whumper so long that they start to forget. Then Whumpee just stares at who they’ve become, aware that they weren’t always this way, but no longer able to escape into memories of life before Whumper.
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.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
i love a whumpee whos just completely exhausted after, especially if the sexual assault/rape was particularly violent. you'd think they wouldnt be able to sleep but they're getting the deepest sleep of their life. also good if theyre so tired and weak they need help bathing and are practically falling asleep during
every time that whumpee moves, even an inch, pain shudders through their battered body. the attack had lasted for a lifetime and it had been violent - extremely violent. whumpee hadn't even fought. and still whumper had been outright sadistic, hitting and biting, choking, manhandling whumpee and using their own body as a weapon to batter whumpee even as whumpee laid limp and sobbing.
now, though exhaustion coats their body like layers of heavy lead, but they have to drag themself home somehow. home to where they live with their friend, their friend who they know will be waiting up for them when they didn't get home at the normal time. their friend worries. it's sweet, even if whumpee rolls their eyes sometimes.
tonight, the awareness that they'll be there waiting when whumpee manages to drag their bruised, aching, beyond sore body home is both horrific and a thought that fills whumpee with so much relief that it nearly makes them collapse to think of it. all they can do is put one foot in front of the other until they make it in their front door. and that's as far as they get - they collapse as soon as they cross the threshold. all they want to do is sleep for a year. their eyes can barely stay open. but they can't rest yet.
whumpee's skin is stained, their body disgusting. tears well in their eyes as they think of it, slumped against the wall and flinching hard as soon as their friend approaches. "please," they manage to force out. "please i- i can't on my own. i need- i need to wash it off. i need to wash them- wash them off. please."
"okay. i- yeah. okay." their friend's hands are shaking. whumpee is too exhausted to even really talk, but they notice that. those shaking hands are gentle and careful, and a soft voice apologizes every time whumpee flinches. whumpee's head lolls over against their friend's guarding arm as they're held up in the tub, the washcloth feeling like sandpaper against their abused skin. but still, it's... it's good. whumpee feels raw and destroyed, unable to do anything but accept their friend's help. but it's good. it's the exact opposite of what whumper had done.
and they'll have to explain that, soon, won't they. they'll have to tell their friend what happened (as if they don't know, as if they haven't already guessed). for now, though, they lean heavy and helpless, against the person they trust most in the world. for now, they'll let their friend wash away as much of their rape as possible, and then they'll sleep. for a long, long time, they'll sleep.
