#made to watch whump

[whump-or-whatever]

I might have made a post about this before but whatever if so I’m doing it again.

I absolutely love when whumpee is made an example of. When their torture at the hands of whumper is displayed to others to make a point.

This could be done via torture in front of a crowd; a video which is streamed, broadcasted, e-mailed, mailed, left as a physical copy for caretaker to find, etc.; whumper calling caretaker so they can hear what’s happening or whumpee wearing a wire to the same effect; sending pictures, or what have you. I suppose sending body parts could also work to some degree.

In any case, the primary reason that whumper is hurting whumpee is to put on a show for others to see. Whumper’s actions are pointless without some sort of audience.

The purpose of this can be to prove Whumper’s personal power, or whumpee’s personal weakness. It could stand for the ultimate triumph of Whumper’s cause or side, or the failure of whumpee’s. It could be a lesson to others not to follow in whumpee’s footsteps, or a fear tactic to make people do as whumper says. Or it could just be to gloat or get revenge.

The fact that someone else is witnessing what whumper is doing increases the suffering for both whumpee and the witnesses.

Whumpee might be embarrassed at how vulnerable they are and the fact that this shows weakness. They might also be upset that caretaker is going to know exactly what happened and worry that it will change how caretaker see them. Alternatively, whumpee might be upset because they know caretaker will blame themself for whats happening even though it’s not their fault.

Caretaker, of course, probably does blame themself and gets angrier the longer it goes on. If they can, they might beg whumper to stop. Knowing what exactly is being done but still being unable to help makes everything a hundred times worse.

And the entire time whumper is using the duality of the situation to their advantage. They taunt both whumpee and the audience. They humiliate whumpee and use that to instil fear or piss off those watching.

Whumper says things like: “your beloved caretaker is watching” | “see how even the mighty whumpee is no match for me” | “now everyone can see how pathetic you are” | “caretaker, if you want them come and get them” | “this should be a lesson to all of you that there are consequences for disobedience” | “I have waited for this moment for so long and now everyone will witness my revenge”

The best part of all is when whumper is trying to make a point, but in order to make the point they actually have to break whumpee, but whumpee just will not break. So the torture just goes on and on to the point where whumper is tired, whumpee is nearly delirious, and everyone watching just wants whumpee to give in to end their own suffering. Still, whumpee refuses.

This may or may not be my favourite whump trope of all time, in case y’all couldn’t tell. (Although I suppose it’s technically a combination of many tropes.)

[den-of-whump]

A guilty whump pleasure of mine is when a character in a fantastical setting is being tortured and something in them just breaks. They suddenly manifest magic super powers, or if they already had those, they suddenly go into overdrive and the character just murders everyone there.

[sparkchemy]

Whumperless Whump Event Day 13 - Stuck in the mountains living manifestation of a god / “Well, this wasn't how I thought the hiking Abattoir trip would go.”

There are no mountains in Town-on-Gorkhon, so I had to improvise 🤭

@whumperless-whump-event

[serickswrites]

Cross

Part 2

Warnings: captivity, torture, restraints, electrocution, forced to watch, betrayal, knife, blood

"It didn't have to be this way," Smallest Teammate said as they strained to try and reach through the bars of their cell to Teammate One and Team Leader.

Teammate One had handcuffed Team Leader to a metal bed frame and they were now taking their time attaching the jumper cables to the frame.

"Oh, but it did. It did, Smallest Teammate," Teammate One said with a smile. "Don't you think, Team Leader?"

Team Leader spat at Teammate One. They hadn't done anything but glare at Teammate One since Teammate One showed up, Smallest Teammate in tow, knife held to Smallest Teammate's throat demanding Team Leader come with them.

Smallest Teammate had tried to escape, tried to fight back, but Teammate One over powered them. Teammate One was always the strong one. The cut on Smallest Teammate's arm had stopped bleeding shortly after Teammate One had shoved them in the cell.

Teammate One had handcuffed Team Leader to the frame first. Team Leader hadn't fought back. Hadn't done anything to stop Teammate One. They couldn't risk Smallest Teammate being hurt.

"Please, you don't have to hurt them," Smallest Teammate pleaded as Teammate One stepped back.

Teammate One gave a wicked grin. "I know. But I want to," they said as they flipped the switch on the battery, sending electricity shooting through the bed frame.

Team Leader screamed as the current passed through the frame and into them. Their body was on fire and cold. Their body was frozen and moving. There was nothing they could do to stop. Nothing they could do to protect Smallest Teammate. Nothing they could do but hope that Teammate One would turn the battery off soon and leave.

Team Leader had to hope that Teammate Two would find them. Would realize that Teammate One had betrayed them all. Team Leader had to hope because if they didn't, they would have nothing to hold on to. They had to hold onto something. For Smallest Teammate.

Just as Team Leader thought they couldn't endure anymore, Teammate One flipped the switch again. Team Leader sagged against the frame, unable to lift their head.

"Team Leader! Team Leader! Say something!" The desperation in Smallest Teammate's voice had Team Leader wanting to say something. Wanting to lift their head and reassure Smallest Teammate.

But as Team Leader started to lift their head, Teammate One chuckled and flipped the switch once more. It was all Team Leader could do to stay awake as their body burned once more. Hope. Hope that was the only thing they had.

[whumpypepsigal]

Whumptober 2023 | No. 6

Made To Watch

The Blacklist s01e01: “Do what I say or I'll shoot your husband.”

@whumptober @whumptober-archive

[whumpetywhump]

Whumptober Day 6 - Made To Watch

Kinnporsche - Ep. 10

Love In The Air - Ep. 7

Never Let Me Go - Ep. 12

Tien Bromance - Ep. 10

Triage - Ep. 13

[siren-of-agony]

The horror of immortal whumpee with superhealing. The horror of not leaving scars. The horror of it's not visible, it's not lasting, so it didn't happen.

You can hurt them and hurt them and hurt them and hurt them and hurt them again.

And everyone just sees clear skin, sees youthfulness. No evidence of suffering remains.

It doesn't look like anything happened to them, so how could they still suffer from it?

Why should others give them empathy, give them care, when there's nothing to care about. Why should they themselves?

Just look at them. Nothing happened.

[librathefangirl]

@whumpgifathon | Day 6: Skills | Try out a new technique you haven't tried before using your favorite whump trope as inspiration! Killjoys | S03E05 | D'avin Jaqobis & John Jaqobis

[outtacommission]

I’m watching the yuzuki family’s four sons…… holy shit I’m head over heels four episodes in. this is like my favorite whump setup I think I’ve ever seen, or close to it.

the oldest brother who’s been thrust into a parental role while still very young and overworks himself on a daily basis to provide for his younger brothers like are you KIDDING me 😭😭😭 I’m going to throw up

[necrotic-nephilim]

Hey there, are you ok?

hey! thank you for checking up on me, this was really sweet!

i SWEAR i did not die. i just got a bit busy doing SladeRobin Week (which i will finish so help me god-) as well as things in my real life. i'm still trying to find the balance of like. fandom creation and working. i am very lucky to have the living situation that i do rn, but it is the sort of schedule where i do have to be ready to watch a baby at really any given point so. it's a tricky balance right now, but i'm going to be active here again! maybe not as many asks answered a day as before, but i want to try to answer like, a few a day and whatnot.

i also think i got briefly overwhelmed, in that i got more asks faster than i answered them. which is the opposite of a problem and something i'm very lucky for! but it did make it difficult for me to keep up and know what to answer next. (this is *not* a discouragement to sending asks! i love them all and pls send as many as you want! i just am a little slow sometimes so i appreciate the patience! <3)

so! i'm back and i'm good, ty for asking! we are back to the regularly scheduled programming <3

[favouritefearlesswhumper]

Forced to watch with Team Leader

Idk there's something so good about a team watching their beloved, kind, smart, strong Leader suddenly falling to pieces in front of them.

It's not like they don't have more than a few scars of their own. But they've never known torture like this.

Tearfullt trying to reassure their team that they're fine, they're okay, honest-

Until they're very much not.

Blood dripping down their skin, limbs battered and bruised, broken bones, black eyes-

Worst of all, was the screams.

They tried to keep it in, they really really did. They didn't want to worry and scare their beloved team any more than they knew they already would be-

But it hurt so much.

It hurt so, so much.

And it's only the beginning.

[anguishmacgyver]

[whumpberry-cookie]

If Whumpee not chew toy why makes squeking noises

[babytarttdoodoo]

in the end everything collides

((Winner of Whumptober Poll #2 | Day 6 | Made To Watch)) 

The whole evening had taken such a blindingly bizarre turn that even with the sound of fists meeting flesh and hysterical giggling filling his ears, Sam couldn’t process what he was seeing.

It had started out normally enough. He had been finishing some paperwork at Ola’s after closing, something he had been doing more and more of in the off-season to take at least a little pressure away from Simi.

He had been having fun, even, thanks to Jamie’s unrelenting commentary on anything and everything that popped into his head. His teammate had dropped in for a late dinner and hung around long after closing to keep Sam company when he learned of his plans.

The offer had been gratefully received and only curdled to regret when Edwin Akufo strode in like he owned the place.

His competing restaurant was not faring well, apparently, and that was obviously entirely Sam’s fault. How dare he have competent staff and a talented head chef?

Sam had sighed inwardly when Edwin’s security goons had spread out around the restaurant, gauging how much egotistical posturing and property damage he would likely have to put up with before being left alone again.

He hadn’t really considered what would happen if he fought back because he had no intention of doing so. Jamie, on the other hand, swung first.

Of course he did.

To his credit, he landed more than one solid hit before a bodyguard got hold of his arms and twisted them behind his back. Edwin had teetered between incredulity and rage for only a few moments before manic glee stole over his face.

It was not a good look on him.

“Let him go, Edwin, he doesn’t…” Sam barely started voicing his protests before he was grabbed too, held in place at the silent order of the billionaire, flicking a hand in Sam’s direction like he was an unimportant nuisance. Forgotten in the wake of this new entertainment.

“Ah, ah, what do we have here? Who are you to jump to Obisanya’s defence, hm? Another nobody with delusions of grandeur from kicking a ball?”

Jamie’s face screwed up to one side and Sam’s heart sank.

“Eh, ain’t nothing delusional about my ball-kicking, mate. Get a bit closer and I’ll show you.”

Edwin threw his head back and laughed, loudly. It was wildly out of place in the tense atmosphere and deeply unsettled something in Sam’s gut when he abruptly cut off.

“I do not think so, Obisanya’s friend. But Curtis here is more than happy to get up close and personal.”

‘Curtis’ was well over six feet tall and at least half as wide. Like all of Edwin’s cronies, he was dressed in a fine suit, though the addition of several bulky rings on his fingers seemed unique to him.

“Edwin, please,” Sam tried again, panic and desperation making his voice thin and reedy. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I do not have to do anything,” Edwin crowed, rocking back on his heels, delighting in Sam’s obvious distress. “I choose to do this, just like you chose to so rudely turn down my very generous offer. And your friend here chose to interfere. These are consequences, Sam Obisanya. A lesson for you both to learn.”

Sam pulled helplessly on the arms holding him firmly in place as Curtis cracked his knuckles and advanced on Jamie. The footballer was waiting with a smirk and raised brow.

“Am I supposed to be scared, like?”

The first blow snapped his head to the side. Sam cried out as if it had been meant for him.

Jamie just laughed, licking blood from his lip as he casually straightened up again. “C’mon, put your back into it, lad.”

The second hit slammed into his jaw, sending his skull backwards with such force that the man holding him barely avoided a broken nose.

Jamie took slightly longer to recover, head lolling forward for a moment before he looked up with bloody teeth. “You wanna really swing your hips, mate. Get a bit more momentum.”

The next punch sank into his stomach, forcing a pained grunt out of his mouth along with any air he had in his lungs. He coughed, gasping, and started to laugh again.

“My old man hits harder than that and he can barely piss standing up half the time.”

Curtis glanced back at Edwin with a raised eyebrow, clearly unsettled by his lack of impact on Jamie’s confidence. If they were waiting for him to back down, Sam realised, they would be here all night.

That was not a pleasant thought.

“What are you looking at me for? He told you to hit harder!” Edwin pointed out, annoyed but also eying Jamie’s grinning, manic face warily.

Sam couldn’t say how long it went on for; Curtis continued hitting Jamie and Jamie just kept up a running commentary, getting more and more delirious as it ran on.

There was a horror to it. A numb, dreadful feeling in Sam’s chest as he shouted and pleaded himself hoarse but the violence didn’t stop.

Until it did.

All of a sudden, Edwin flicked his hand again, a deep frown on his face that Sam had no mind to be concerned about. Both he and Jamie were released unceremoniously and he was moving to catch his friend before any other thought had time to form.

Jamie slumped into him, knees given out, still mumbling obscenities and casting aspersions about Curtis’ mother.

Edwin observed them both, making no move to stop Sam from grabbing a nearby chair.

“Your friend is clearly disturbed. You should get him psychological help.”

Sam barely acknowledged him, too preoccupied with holding Jamie up to dignify that with a witty response. The billionaire straightened his jacket with a scoff and beckoned to his entourage.

As quickly as the intrusion had sent the night to absolute hell, they were left alone again. Or, almost alone.

“Francis, I am not in the mood right now,” Sam warned the hovering man when he didn’t seem to be moving on.

“That is fair.” The evening’s events had rocked him so deeply that Sam couldn’t even summon surprise at hearing the handshake aficionado's voice for the first time. “Mr Akufo is leaving the country tomorrow. He is closing his restaurant. This… It is unlikely we will meet again.”

Francis cleared his throat, looking awkwardly out of character from his usual cool, collected demeanour. Not a violent man, Sam realised.

“Goodbye then. You can let yourself out.”

He gave Sam a firm nod, Jamie a lingering look, and did so, leaving them in peace at last.

“Jamie, are you familiar with the concept of self-preservation? At all?” Sam asked urgently, trying to judge how unfocused his eyes were. “Why did you do that?”

“I’m the only one who gets to be a prick to you,” Jamie slurred, struggling to keep upright. “‘Sides, he really didn’t hit that hard.”

Sam was justified, he thought, in finally letting himself cry.

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Hand in Hand (part one)

A Riot Kings AU: When Melchior is betrayed by his men, Wes tries to help him escape. Before long, both men are captured.

@whumptober No. 6: Made to Watch

cw: torture, burning, death threat

///// next

~ ~ ~

The scream is almost loud enough to blow out the speaker, and it's all Dan can do not to cringe away from it, closing his eyes and covering his ears and pretending it's all a bad dream. Instead, he sits straight-backed in the metal chair, poised like he's attending a meeting in spite of the bruises blooming on his skin, the cuffs locked around his wrists. His face is expressionless, in spite of the man on the screen, bound and shaking.

In spite of being forced to watch the torture of the one person who cared enough to try and save him.

Dan almost flinches at the next scream, as the masked soldier presses the hot iron into Wes's bare chest. There are already a half-dozen similar burns scattered across his ribcage, standing out against pale, sweat-damp skin. Dan tries staring at the dingy wall behind his friend in an effort to avoid looking at his face, avoid seeing the desperation there. But every cry of pain only pulls his eyes back, sharpening the deep ache in his chest.

Swift knows what she's doing. She must've seen the burn scars covering Wes's back, must've known how much this would terrify him. If this is a game, she's already several moves ahead of Dan. His only weapon in this scenario, his only defense against this attack, is indifference.

And it hurts so much to play at indifference. But he knows it will be so much worse for Wes if he doesn't. There's no telling what Swift will do if she learns that this is a weak point.

When he's sure it's been long enough, when he can feel Swift's eyes on him, watching for a reaction, Dan finally speaks.

"Why are you showing me this?" he says, and it takes a considerable amount of effort to flatten his voice, but somehow he manages.

"Oh Mr. Melchior," Swift says in an oversweet voice. "Don't you care for the only man who remains loyal to you?"

"One man is insignificant," Dan replies, staring past the screen. "You've already won, Swift. Answer my question."

She doesn't, a smile playing on her lips as she pushes a button with a gloved hand, leaning forward to speak into the microphone above it. "Kill him."

The words rip through Dan like an electric shock. He can't keep his voice steady as he utters a quiet, "What?"

As the masked man on the screen reaches for his gun, Mercury grins at Dan, not even trying to feign surprise. "What's wrong? Didn't you just say he was insignificant?"

He tries to recover, tries to smear the callous expression back onto his face, but he knows it's too late. "Why waste a bullet on him?"

"Would you rather I have him beaten to death?"

The image is in his head before he can stop it; Wes lying bloody and unmoving on the cold concrete, Wes in agony right up until his last breath. "No."

"So you'll see no issue if--"

"No," Dan says again. On the screen, Wes is looking at the gunman, his executioner, with fearful eyes. His face is streaked with tears, and his mouth is moving with frantic, silent pleas. Like he's begging Dan to save him. Like there's anything Dan can do besides prolong his suffering. The gun is raised, pressed to Wes's forehead, and Dan flinches with him.

"Please don't hurt him." The words spill out, the facade fully broken. "Please. Just tell me what you want."

To his relief, she hits the button again. "Stop. Our guest has reconsidered." The man holsters the gun, and Dan wonders if it's even loaded, or if it's just another part of her game. Either way, Swift has accomplished her goal.

"There's a good man," she says, pulling at the edge of a glove. "I knew you were soft."

"What do you want?" he tries again through gritted teeth, but Swift only laughs.

"Patience, Mr. Melchior. We'll discuss terms once you've become more familiar with the stakes."

The stakes? She's already made those abundantly clear. Do her bidding, or Wes gets hurt. But what is her bidding?

When Swift speaks again, it's not Dan she's addressing, but the guards flanking the door. His own men, or at least they had been until last night.

"Put him in the cell," she orders. "We'll continue this conversation in the morning."