The Whumpee’s eyes open, but they see nothing. It takes a few moments to orient themselves as they realize they are blindfolded and sat in a hard chair, wrists bound behind them and ankles bound to its legs. The chair creaks as they shift their weight, but it’s the sound of something else that they fixate on. Slight, small tick tick ticks. The squeezing noise of latex gloves. The sound of careful breaths in and out that belong to someone else in the room. “That’s annoying,” the Whumpee says aloud. The Whumper is sat at a workbench with a single warm light cast over a dismantled and very old looking compass. Their gloved hands hold the watch and a small tool, and they take their eyes off it just for a moment to give a fleeting glance at the Whumpee. “You weren’t good to your friend here,” the Whumper states plainly. The Whumpee snorts. “You giving out lessons on how to be good to your friends?” The Whumper continues picking at the compass and pulls it apart piece by piece. “Some people find these sounds soothing, you know,” they say as they lay each of the tiny pieces down with soft clacks on their wooden workbench. “Me included.” The Whumpee shifts again in their chair and the realization dawns on them as to what the Whumper has taken. The Whumper continues. “Maybe something to do with watching people work when you were little. Reassuring guidance. Expertise.” The Whumper lifts the small plate marked with cardinal directions and holds it beneath the light. “Someone to show you the way.” They lower it and look again at the Whumpee, this time for longer as they notice the Whumpee’s battered body start to become tense. The Whumper shakes their head as if disappointed. “You’re the very picture of a person who’d walk around with a broken compass.”
Giant pandas, the international symbol of conservation, are one of the most loved species in the world.
A group of parasitic round worms are one of the main causes of mortality of giant pandas in the wild, and collectively infect more than 50 animal species worldwide.
Infection can damage the intestines and if the infection reaches the brain and eyes: will often result in death.
Dr Russ Morphew at Aberystwyth University, along with researchers at IBERS and Mr Iain Valentine RZSS Edinburgh Zoo look to identify how this deadly parasite responds to anti-parasitic drugs. More specifically, whether drug resistance is the cause of repeat infections in captive giant panda populations.
They hope that their findings will not only help to inform conservation strategies in captivity and across China’s giant panda reserves, but also that they could lead to improved control strategies to deal with infection in the future.
“You can’t be here,” the whumpee protests, squirming in their bonds as the caretaker starts to cut them loose. “You have to leave before, before—”
“Hey, quit moving!” the caretaker admonishes, frowning when they accidentally nick the writhing whumpee with their blade. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”
Accustomed to orders and threats, the whumpee immediately stills. I don’t want to hurt you usually means the exact opposite, in their experience, but they need to protect the caretaker, even if doing so means punishment.
The caretaker offers them a reassuring smile as they saw through the ropes. The whumpee pouts, their bottom lip trembling as tears pool in their eyes. The last thing they want is to put the caretaker in danger, and if the whumper realizes they’re here, they’ll be killed.
The whumpee’s voice quivers as they frantically try to convince them. “Please, please, listen to me. You gotta get out of here before he finds you. Please, go, p-please. I can’t see you get h-hurt.”
Tied to a chair, the whumpee refuses to answer the whumper’s question. He endures the alternating punches and demands with only the occasional grunt of pain, even as blood streams down his face. Finally, the frustrated whumper yanks his captive’s head back by the hair and holds a blade to his throat, nearly screaming his question…and the whumpee caves. With eyes squeezed shut and hands white-knuckled on the arms of the chair, he gasps the name of the location he’d kept secret until now. Triumphant, the whumper strides away, and the whumpee slumps forward…to conceal the slow smile that spreads over his cracked and bleeding lips.
I love those little things that give away clues as to what happened to the whumpee in captivity.
Bruises on their knees from having to kneel on something hard, red marks around their wrists from the restraints, their eyes red from lack of sleep, their hair damp with sweat…
The whumpee doesn’t need to say anything, because the signs of their suffering are painted clearly on their body.
“I’ll kill you,” X screamed as they were dragged away, “if you touch them, I’ll kill you.”
Y smiled and crouched in front of Z, who curled into themself. “Now, what are we going to do with you?” They asked softly. Z couldn’t help the small whimper which escaped them.
The magical whumpee is thrown onstage in front of a crowd of hundreds, forced to use their powers to “perform” for the audience’s amusement. But after weeks of beatings, starvation, and humiliation, the whumpee is so weak they can barely stand. They try to perform anyway, although they’re unsteady on their feet, because they know they’ll be punished if they don’t. They barely manage to move a finger before they collapse on the stage out of sheer pain and exhaustion. The last thing they hear before they pass out is the audience’s laughter.
“Oh, darling,” the whumper cooed. They looked down at the whumpee, snivelling and crying on the floor. The whumpee shook, heaving with sobs and exhaustion, tear tracks cutting lines through the dirt on their face. The whumper leaned down a stroked hand down their cheek, ignoring the soft flinch from the whumpee.
The whumper smiled, tucking a lock of hair behind the whumpee’s ear. “You look so fucking pathetic.”
When the whumpee is allowed to escape, and they’re literally crawling towards safety while the whumper calmly walks behind them. Just before they get to safety, just before someone can see them, the -er drags the sobbing -ee back to where they came from
A little one, without as much in the way of violence. Nonetheless,
Content Warnings: Kidnapping, captivity, first aid; references to drugging, injury, torture, acceptance of captivity. victim blaming, vaguely.
“So who are you, her lapdog?”
Adrianspoke as the smaller boy carefully untied them from the chair and unpacked a small medical kit. He didn’t immediately respond, and was careful to set the sharp and bloodied wires aside.
Cute things about have a pet locked away in your basement: you can make sure they only read things that are age appropriate and don’t have any silly things in them about free will or escaping
She was sleeping with a friend of her husband. When he found out Her punishment was to be tied up like this in a public parking With a sign of free fuck for any passing by. She’s ben there for 18 hours She can’t even hold still She’s been crying and screaming but nobody cares No body knows when he’s gonna take her down But they r sure she’s available for now
On any given day, whales and dolphins can travel an average of 100 miles, spending their time playing, socializing and hunting. SeaWorld would like the public to believe this is an exaggeration and that their needs can still be met swimming circles in a tank the size of a bathtub. We don’t know about you, but we wouldn’t be too happy with that downgrade.
Ben’s heart was pounding in his chest. He watched Volkov talking with the others in the low growling Russian he was becoming familiar with, yet still didn’t understand. He’d just had breakfast and was still on his knees, trembling. He was so damn scared, and in so much pain. He could still feel the sting from the needles he’d had to endure two days in a row. His fingernails still throbbed.
His teeth chattered while they made him wait, and his muscles spasmed with cold fear. Volkov had tortured him every day, and Ben had passed out from pain each time. The sadistic man timed how long he lasted. Ben was horrified to realize that Volkov was learning his limits so that he could drag out the pain longer.
The second day with the needles had been far worse because he’d taken it slower, letting Ben have time to breathe and adjust to the new levels of agony. The session time had nearly doubled, with Ben forced to lay there and listen while Volkov talked Dmitri through how to torture the boy ‘properly.’
The low conversation broke up, and the group of abusers returned to stand around Ben. He kept his eyes on the ground, hoping to hide even a fraction of his terror. Dmitri stood behind him and grabbed his hair, forcing him to look up at Volkov.
The big Russian had a playful gleam in his eye, and Ben knew enough to hate it now.
“My boys and I were just discussing your options for today. Dmitri wants to see how you handle an electric baton, but I don’t know if you’re ready for that. He did point out that you respond well to your collar.”
Ben’s mouth went dry. “A-a-and my o-other option-options?”
I love it when restraints aren’t necessary, when the captive’s hands aren’t tied together and they aren’t dragged anywhere by forceful hands but they still follow when they’re called because they just know they have no choice. There’s no need to stop them from fighting or trying to escape because they’ve already been made to see that it’s useless.
Yes please! Especially if the whumpee is absolutely death glaring their captors. They’re still defiant inside and they want the whumper to know.
Yes absolutely! The defiance is part of what I enjoy about this. It’s the fact that they’re not really doing it willingly but they’ve analysed the situation and realised that any other move would be futile and self destructive so they just follow, with an angry glare and the burning need for revenge…
!!!! thank you so much! look at the sad boy! the scraped knuckles and knees and the bruised throat hhhhhhhhh he’s so saaaaaad :((( you know the hunter was being “merciful” and doting on him since lux gets to have a shirt and blanket. he looks so nervous! it’s perfect, i love this!
I love it when restraints aren’t necessary, when the captive’s hands aren’t tied together and they aren’t dragged anywhere by forceful hands but they still follow when they’re called because they just know they have no choice. There’s no need to stop them from fighting or trying to escape because they’ve already been made to see that it’s useless.
