#tw cruel whumper

[serickswrites]

Kneel

Warnings: capture, restraints, humiliation, future torture implied, cruel, sadistic whumper, physical violence, blood, broken bones, bloody nose, blood from the mouth

"Kneel," Whumper sneered at Whumpee. They had draped themself across Whumpee's throne.

The two knights dragged Whumpee forward. Whumpee's arms were bound behind their back, tightly, shoulders pulled painfully tight. Whumpee held their head high as they were dragged forward. Their crown was still high atop their head. They were still ruler of these lands.

Whumper and their band of minions had struck the castle in the dead of knight, taking everyone by surprise. There hadn't been time to launch a counter attack. There had only been time to get out as much of their court as they could. Whumpee, of course, had chosen to remain behind to buy as much time for the escaping court as they could.

Still, there were those that remained with them. And those few had been forced to gather in the throne room and watch as Whumper humiliated Whumpee.

Whumpee would not give Whumper the satisfaction of begging. It didn't matter if begging would save them. Their siblings had gotten out. The dynasty's line would live even if they died. They would not bow before Whumper. They would not break. They would not give in to the invaders.

"Whumper said kneel," one of Whumper's knights said as they kicked the back of Whumpee's knees.

Whumpee did not cry out as their knees hit the hard marble, though pain sang up their joints. They would not cry out. They would not beg. They looked off, ignoring the knights and Whumper. They would not engage.

Whumper jumped up and stalked towards Whumpee. "I'm going to enjoy flaying you alive, Whumpee. I'm going to enjoy dragging you through the streets so your subjects can see how far you can fall. And I'm going to enjoy leaving your body on display and letting the carrion pick your bones clean."

Whumpee did not say anything. They did not look at Whumper. They would not look at Whumper. They would not give in.

Without warning, Whumper kicked Whumpee in the face. Hard. Whumpee felt their nose crack and bleed. They listed sideways, the only thing keeping them up was the death grip on their shoulders by the two knights. Whumper kicked them again, this time catching Whumpee's mouth. Whumpee sputtered around the blood filling their mouth.

"You are going to be the most fun I have had in a long time, Whumpee. I am going to enjoy breaking you body, mind, and soul. And then I will have your crown."

Tags: @mousepaw @jumpywhumpywriter @knightinbatteredarmor @hufflepuffwritingstuff2 @anightmarishwhump

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @celestialsoyeon @st0rmm @ay5ksal @pedro-pedro-pedro-pedro-pe

[chaotic-orphan]

Helo helo, just asking...r u planning to update heroic betrayal? 👁👁 NO RUSH THOUGH IT'S JUST REALLY GOOD AND I CAN'T WAIT SJSJHSHSH

GOOD DAY!!

Heroic Betrayal (X)

Read part one // Continued from here

This part is dedicated to everyone who commented under the last part, that made me cackle like a maniac, and everyone who asked for a continuation of this series that warmed my heart— I’m so sorry it took so long, and I hope you enjoy <3

*~*~*~*~*

The concrete cut into her cheeks like a sharp edge, her shoulders hitting the walls and her feet tumbling over her head until she crashed and bashed every point in her body on the way down. She ended up on her stomach, blood dripping from the side of her head. She tried to push herself up, but a hand grabbed the back of her neck and dragged her stumbling to her feet.

She felt like she was going to be sick, stuck in a twister of Supervillain’s strong sharp movements that she couldn’t anticipate with her pounding headache raging.

“Now, here we are,” Supervillain said and he shoved Hero forward again. Hero tripped over her feet, her ankle rolling as they tried to stop her momentum in vain. An edge of something metal caught her around the hips and she fell forward, her torso folding with an oomph. A click and the room flooded with light. Hero squeezed her eyes shut, the light burning compared to the pitch black it was not a moment ago.

Hero squinted taking a quick survey of the room, searching for an escape, but no, no, no, no. There would be escape from this room that was just a concrete square of torture devices. Hero’s heart jumped into her throat as she glanced down at the metal bench below her hands. It was a table. A surgical table. Her stomach bottomed out as she gasped involuntary, stepping back and right into a solid chest.

Her blood ran cold and she couldn’t stop the tremors of fear tearing through her. Two strong hands settled on her shoulders and she flinched despite herself, her entire body trembling, her eyes and brain disoriented from the fall and the lack of oxygen and her fucking pounding headache. And she was really starting to wish she didn’t open her mouth.

Hero let out a sharp breath, a claw of panic grabbing at her chest as her eyes scanned the room searching for a window or anything that would tell her she wasn’t underground right now. She couldn’t… couldn’t breathe, oh fuck, there were no windows, there was a window in the cells, she gasped, pushing back against the chest shaking her head.

“Oh that’s right,” Supervillain cooed behind her, his voice painted with sick delight as his fingers tightened on her shoulders. “Villain told me you were claustrophobic. Does being underground trigger it, Hero?”

Hero drove her elbow back wildly hitting her mark, but Supervillain didn’t flinch or even grunt. Instead he grabbed her wrist, twisted her arm up and around her back, the other going to the back of her neck and slammed her down against the table.

“You really have no manners, Hero, do you know that?”

“F—fff— fuck you,” she said between fretful breaths. Every action, every movement was lessening and lessening, she only had a little bit of oxygen left in her lungs that was stuttering out. The walls pulsing closer, shrinking and she squeezed her eyes shut. At least the metal of the table was cool under her cheek.

Supervillain pushed her wrist further up her back until Hero was crying out, trying to kick back at Supervillain to get him to stop but the lack of oxygen in her lungs was dizzying as she scrambled. Her brain was fried, and she couldn’t remember any of her combat training as panic seized her throat.

She splayed her fingers, mind reaching, the invisible pull of her blades familiar as they rushed back to her hands. If she could just— two clangs against the door upstairs and Supervillain straightened, letting up some pressure. Hero pulled and pulled, trying to rip the daggers through the obstacle but Supervillain grabbed her splayed fingers and pushed them back down into a fist, smothering her connection to her daggers.

“No!” Hero wailed, struggling furiously under him, kicking back, trying to do anything, get anywhere away away away away from the danger, be able to breathe again properly. Her tears hit the metal table with wet, metallic drops, like a leaky tap dripping into the sink.

“What did I tell you about using your powers, Hero, hmm?”

“Let go of me, you fucking psychopath!” Hero cried, anger flooding her veins. With Supervillain’s hand off her neck, Hero threw herself back with a roar of adrenaline mixed with fury. Supervillain’s grip tightened on her wrist, about to push it up but Hero wedged a knee up between the table and shoved until the pair went stumbling.

Hero slipped free of Supervillain’s hold in his stunned state, but he recovered quickly, grabbing at her hoodie but Hero was too quick, and she was ascending the stairs, her breaths getting heavier but her breathing becoming even the closer she got to the surface.

She got to the door and grabbed the handle and shoved it open.

Only.

It didn’t open.

Hero stared. No. No. No, no, no, nonononono!

NO!

Hero slammed an open palm on the metal, screaming. “FLYNN! FLYNN I’M SORRY PLEASE! Please!”

Footsteps on the staircase. Hero slid down the door, banging weakly against it and crying out for Flynn to save her as Supervillain advanced again.

“Did you really think I’d leave a handle on the way out of this room, Hero?”

Hero swallowed the lump in her throat, focusing all her energy into the glare she shot at him, hoping he would melt right on the spot. Which he didn’t.

“You can come down and your punishment will be less severe than if I have to drag you down.”

“Fuck you,” she said, her voice cracking halfway through. She splayed her fingers again and wished, hoped, prayed that somehow they would get through the thick metal door she was trapped behind.

Fuck! Fuck! FUCK! What was she going to do? There was only one option for her right now and that was down, down into a tight, underground nightmare that was threatening to kill her. She needed— she needed to be able to breathe to think clearly, but even thinking was difficult at the thought of being dragged back down to Supervillain’s torture chamber.

Supervillain sighed, a few steps away from her. “Okay, Hero. Have it your way.”

He reached down and grabbed her ankle and turned to walk down the stairs. Hero kicked at him, landing a few solid ones on his arm and back before he was dragging her down and Hero’s head smacked off the concrete steps. She didn’t even have time to scream or groan or whine, small gasps at every bounce fogged her vision until she was back on solid ground.

Supervillain appeared above her, grabbing her, one arm under her shoulders, the other her knees as he bent over and scooped her up. She protested weakly, her brain rattled and her reaction time non-existent. Supervillain placed her on something cool under her skin, but she could feel something wet on the back of her head.

She reached a hand up to find the source of the wetness, but Supervillain grabbed her wrist before she could investigate and strapped it down to table in leather. He pulled the cuff tight around Hero’s wrist, so tight she couldn’t move it left or right, just up and down. She whined when he took her other wrist and restrained it the same way by her side. Then he moved onto her ankles and soon Hero couldn’t move an inch, her eyes glazed over and staring blankly above her.

Supervillain grabbed Hero’s cheek, appearing in her scope of vision, but there was two of him now, a shadow or a clone. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

“Hmph, you spoiled some of my fun, Hero. I was hoping to teach you this lesson to remember, but, oh well. I guess I’ll just have to leave a reminder for you when you’re more conscious, won’t I? Something you can’t ignore.”

Hero blinked at him, the entire world moved like cotton and she was completely out of it, Supervillain’s words echoing around her head. On loop over and over again, but still seemingly so far away.

“Lemme go,” she pleaded weakly, pulling at her restraints.

Supervillain smiled a wicked smile down at her. “I’m thinking something like a three strike system, Hero. Like tally marks or something to that effect. Something easy to understand, strike one was your insolence at dinner which will not be tolerated. What to do,” Supervillain mused stepped away from the metal table and out of sight.

Hero pulled against her restraints, trying to loosen them as hot tears ran down her cheeks. Flynn… she thought hopelessly. Please, please, rescue me. Please.

Supervillain returned to the table, a hunting knife in hand. “Wait, no, please.” Hero didn’t even know what she was protesting, but the words fell from her mouth anyways as Supervillain grabbed her right hand.

“Three strikes, Hero. While I know I could cuff you in power dampeners and leave you down here to hyperventilate all night I think this will be far more effective.”

“Tell me Hero,” Supervillain began as he started undoing the cuff of her right wrist. “Is it all knives you can summon with your ability?”

“Yes,” she replied. “Any will do.”

“Fascinating. And do they all sharpen your senses when you feel them in your hand?” Hero glared at him as he free her wrist and turned it so the back of her hand was positioned above the metal table. Hero didn’t bother asking him how he knew that, because she knew the answer he would be all too happy to supply. The reason Supervillain knew everything about her; Flynn told me.

“It depends on the knife,” Hero answered, the pained fog of her mind ebbing and flowing allowing some coherent thoughts to pass through her brain. “None are as good as my blades, but that’s because I made them myself.”

“I will never cease to be awed by adepts and their crafts,” Supervillain said fondly, tracing the tip of the hunting knife up Hero’s elbow and forearm before pinching it down slightly on Hero’s wrist. Hero didn’t dare struggle or move, afraid if she did the knife would slip and she would be dead. “But now that you’re more conscious, I’ll repeat your punishment.”

“We will do a three strike system, this is strike one. With every strike I will leave a wound on you, a scar that will remind you not to make another mistake again, okay?”

Hero shivered at how easy he explained his punishment system for her, as if he was telling her that her car needed an service or one day it would just stop. “Three strikes, and I will drag you along to watch Sidekick being murdered and you’ll know it was all your fault. Okay?”

“You’re a fucking—”

“Wonderful.”

In one quick movement, Supervillain slid Hero’s right hand over the rim of the table and plunged the hunting knife in all the way through her palm. A howling, banshee’s scream tore through Hero’s throat as she bucked against her restraints, howling and screaming: please, please, stop! Stop!

Tears and snot clogged her senses as she shook her head, her arm violently trembling against the trauma and Supervillain’s tight hold. Hero splayed her fingers on her left hand, trying to summon the knife out of her hand, but Supervillain’s grip was too strong, or Hero’s pull was too weak, and he twisted the knife in her hand instead, pulling more shrieking screams of pain from Hero.

“There, now. The first two strikes will be in your palms, Hero. To remind you that even if you try to fight back, with your knives or your words or otherwise, you,” he said, stressing the final words, “will fail.”

Hero sobbed as her fingers tried to curl around the blade but could barely move more than a flinch in any direction. Hero wouldn’t be able to summon her blade for this hand for a while, until the wound healed and even then? Would she get physio for the muscles and tendons Supervillain just cut through with a terrifying amount of strength?

Supervillain put a hand on Hero’s hair, brushing the strands from her face like a parent would a child who’s eating an ice cream and threatening to get their hair stuck in it, chiding but fond.

“This doesn’t have to happen again, Hero. We can be civil with each other. You and Flynn, I know you have a special connection. A bond. You can have a nice life here, free from the burdens of being a hero in this city, of always fighting uphill battles hmm? Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Hero was shivering, staring up at Supervillain and she knew she probably looked sickly pale and ashen as she felt the blood harden around the blade in her palm, dripping down to the floor on the other side. She knew it would leave a scar, the reminder that Supervillain wanted her to know in her gut and it made her sick.

“So Hero,” Supervillain beamed, smiling down at her. “Will you behave?”

Hero’s bottom lip trembled as she nodded, warm tears flooding her cheeks as she sniffled. Supervillain’s smile turned softer, comforting, like a concerned parent. “Use your words, Hero.”

Hero sniffed. “Y-yes,” she croaked.

“Yes, what?”

Hero sucked in a breath. “I’ll… I’ll behave.”

Supervillain smiled. “Good. Good. Excellent. Now, let’s get you cleaned up, hmm?”

Supervillain removed her restraints and sat her up on the metal table, and said he’d be a minute getting the things he needed around the room.

Hero sat upright shaking violently and trying to hold her hand steady by supporting it with her free hand at the wrist. She stared blankly ahead, both staring at nothing and staring resolutely at one white painted brick, where the groove was a faded, paler white, less glaring at her while Supervillain gathered supplies.

Before too long Supervillain was in front of her, setting bandages and gauze and rubbing alcohol down on the tray beside the bed. Along with other stuff Hero wouldn’t think was necessary like a ruler and Q-tips and other supplies. He was wearing surgical gloves as well, and despite herself Hero was thinking about what he did for a living.

“Are you a doctor?” She asked, her voice hollow.

Supervillain smiled a secretive smile at the question, as if he just found her out. “Ah. You’ve noticed, have you?”

Every once in a while Hero forgot that Supervillain was her nemesis of the last year, the Moriarty to her Sherlock Holmes, the Joker to her batman, although really more like the Riddler with how elusive he was. When she considered Supervillain’s job back before she knew him, she suspected it would be something as cerebral, like a lawyer, or a judge, or a doctor. She didn’t feel good that she was right.

“Yes, I’ve been a doctor since medschool. Long hours, overworked conditions, but I won’t bore you with hospital tales, snd luckily for you I happen to be an acute trauma surgeon,” he told her, smiling up at her through his lashes. “So your hand won’t have too much lasting damage. I didn’t hit any of the important muscles or tendons.”

Hero gasped, which sounded more like a bewildered laugh, “thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

She hissed as Supervillain pressed down on the wound. He smiled. “Sorry, I just have to make sure I didn’t hit anything important. Okay, yes.”

He took a Q-tip from the table and said, “okay, Hero. I need you to remain as still as possible while I do this. Try not to move too suddenly.”

Hero let out a sharp gasp of pain aa Sueprvillain inserted the Q-tip through Hero’s wound until it almost poked out the other side. “You’re doing great Hero.”

But she wasn’t. She was going to be sick as he pulled it out and she saw the blood. The smell had never annoyed her before, but now the metallic kiss hung on the air like a factory that had to suddenly cease operations, a promise of something to come.

He set the Q-tip on the table and measured the blood stain against the ruler. Hero stared down at it, her vision blurring slightly as her mind went woozy and she closed her eyes. When she opened them again, Supervillain was standing over her hands on her shoulders sitting her back up again. Hero blinked, bile climbing up her throat.

“Here,” Supervillain said and shoved a bar of chocolate into Hero’s hand, the wrapper already opened. Hero blinked at it dumbly, and Supervillain gently guided it to her mouth. Hero took a small bite of the sweet, velvet chocolate. “You fainted. You’re okay. It’s normal with this kind of injury, but I would like you conscious while I tend to it.”

Hero blinked at him and when he was certain she wasn’t going to faint again he released her shoulders and Hero remained upright.

“If you’re a doctor…” Hero said, her head spinning, but she was determined to get this out of her head. “Didn’t you take an oath to do no harm?”

“Ah,” Supervillain smiled. “Yes. The hippocratic oath. I did.”

“Then how can you justify this?” Hero asked, nodding to her hand. Supervillain was silent for a moment, dabbing at the bleeding of the wound, staunching the blood and cleaning around it. His movements were so methodical, so clean and purposeful, Hero found their eyes drawn to it as she took another bite of chocolate.

“Where I stabbed you, Hero, is a very delicate place to be stabbed. There is a flurry of activity in the centre of your palm.” Supervillain squeezed just below the wound and Hero squirmed with a groan. “Here is your carpal ligament that controls the movement of your thumb, index and middle finger.”

He squeezed Hero’s thumb and said: “and here are all the muscles for full use of your thumb. If I went too far to the right I could risk damaging the ligaments that connect to your other two fingers, or hitting a clump of nerves.”

Supervillain dropped Hero’s hand and held up his own, pinching the spot the dagger went through Hero’s palm. “Here, there is a hole in your hand. No bone, no muscle, no nerves or ligaments. Minimal damage and less time for recovery. No need for more than standard hand physio and six weeks recovery at most.”

Supervillain smiled at Hero. “The Hippocratic Oath is an oath all doctors must take to do no harm. However, all doctors must accept that in order to make something better, there must first be pain. To treat the sick they must make the sick endure the pain, and fight infection, the body must fight.”

“Your defiance, in the long run, will make you worse than if I curb it now. So I am doing no harm, by ensuring that you quit fighting me unnecessarily. The same way I am trying to stop this city from running straight to ruin.”

“I must do no harm,” his smile was warm, “as a doctor. But as a civilian I can’t stand by and watch this city burn. Does that answer your question?”

Hero stared. Then shrugged with their good shoulder. “Not really, but I’m kinda woozy from blood loss right now.”

Supervillain laughed. “Mmm, let’s do something about it.”

Supervillain worked fast, careful to only press too hard when Hero gave him a snarky reply, and later on she would wonder how she got so comfortable with the man bandaging her up being the same man that stabbed her in the first place. She would attribute it to blood loss and Supervillain would bandage her head and help her up the stairs he threw her down before, and when they got into the kitchen he gave her painkillers and water.

Flynn rushed through the doors, his heart racing when he saw Hero. Her head bandaged and her hand bound so tight and thick that Hero couldn’t close her fingers even if she wanted to.

“H-Hero?” He asked, breathless. Hero smiled at him when he came in and waved. Flynn was by her side in a second, while Supervillain stopped chatting to her about the reason they chose to replace the black and white tiles for the floor in the kitchen. “Are you okay? Hero, oh—”

“She’s fine,” Supervillain said lightly. “We’ve cleared the air, haven’t we Hero?”

Hero nodded, smiling at Flynn. Something she’d attribute to her concussion later because everything was just a little too smiley, a little too comfortable, a little too easy, and she wasn’t entirely convinced that Supervillain didn’t give her the floating, high end painkillers.

“I’m fine.”

“I heard the screaming,” Flynn said, his hands going to Hero’s cheeks, checking her over and looking for any sign that she was lying to him. Other than her too large pupils she seemed okay. “I— your daggers— you—”

Hero grabbed Flynn’s hand with her unbandaged one and interlaced their fingers. “I’m okay. I’m sorry for worrying you.”

Tears brimmed on top of Flynn’s bottom eyelids as he looked at Hero, his Hero, acting so unlike herself. So compliant and soft. It made him ill, the fact that he was the reason Hero was injured in the first place. That she was being subjected to the whims of his family.

God, he didn’t think Dad would do this…

“Will you stay with me tonight?” Hero asked with wide eyes.

Flynn ran a thumb over her bruised cheek, his touch featherlight. “Of course. Will you give out to me tomorrow about it?”

She shrugged happily. “Probably.”

Flynn laughed, and leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’d love to.”

Flynn helped her stand, and wrapped his fingers around hers keeping her close. “Be sure she doesn’t sleep for the next hour or two.”

“We can watch a movie!” Hero said, her voice light and chirpy, so like it was when she’d get excited before that it made Flynn’s heart ache.

“Yeah,” he said, swallowing the lump in his throat as he guided her out of the kitchen, away from his father and up the stairs to her room, terrified that if he dropped her hand for even a second he would lose her forever. “We can watch a movie.”

*~*~*~*~*

Orphanage roll-call: (lmk if you wanna be added or removed): @xenlust @books-are-everything @micechomper @shywhumpauthor @aarika-merrill @0eggdealer @watermelonrandom @tippytappytyping @swift-perseides @gloriousqueen101 @isnortkoolaidpowderteehee @jumpywhumpywriter @bitter-space @lumpofsand

@xxgalgurlxx @silentpotat0 @ladygwennn @memepsychowhowantsuperpower-blog

[a-living-canvas]

Absolute Obedience

"Whumpee, be my chair."

"Yes, master." Whumpee complied. They kneeled on all fours as Whumper sat on their back. "Is this comfortable, master?"

"Mhm."

…

"Master…?

"Shut your mouth. Chairs aren't supposed to talk."

"Yes, master."

…

"Whumpee, go make me a drink."

"Yes, master." Whumpee slowly made their way to the kitchen. They made an orange juice for Whumper, served them with a slight bow.

"Here, master."

"Good. Now kneel again."

"Yes, master." Whumpee kneeled again. They put on a smile when Whumper poured the orange juice right on their head. Whumper chuckled,

"You like that?"

"Yes, master. I like it."

 "Whumpee, light my cigarette." 

Whumpee nodded, they reached for Whumper's lighter on the table and flicked it on their cigarette. Whumper took a long drag before blowing off the smoke in the air. Whumpee just watched silently as Whumper continued smoking on the couch.

"Whumpee, be my ashtray."

"Yes, master."

Whumpee stuck out their tongue for Whumper, their eyes shut in pain as the burning sensation from the cigarette touched their soft muscle. "Does it feel good, Whumpee?"

Whumpee nodded, jaw hanging loosely. "Yes…master…"

Whumper grinned, they put the cigarette inside Whumpee's mouth as they looked down at them with malicious intent.

"Chew and swallow it."

Whumpee's breath came to a halt. They slowly complied as they chewed the cancer stick around their mouth. They almost spit the content out but Whumper placed a hand over their mouth, preventing them from doing so.

"Now, swallow it."

Whumpee consumed the cigarette down their throat. They coughed out as their eyes started tearing up. Whumper ruffled their hair in a mocking manner.

"That's your meal for today. Do you like it?"

"Y-yes, master…"

"Good…now spew it out."

"...w-what?"

Whumper squeezed Whumpee's cheek, smiling innocently. "Spew it out. Do you think it's a good idea to eat a cigarette, you dumb fool?"

Whumpee swallowed hard. They put two fingers inside their mouth and placed them at the start of their throat. They pressed the spot a little before they started throwing up on the floor. Whumper watched in glee, their chin rested lazily on their knuckles as Whumpee's body twitched and trembled from the sensation.

Whumper laughed loudly. They stood up from the couch and pushed their foot down on Whumpee's head, their face made contact with the vomit. The smell filled up their nostrils, making their stomach felt queasy again.

"Who's your master?"

"Y-you…master…"

"Who do you belong to?"

"You…master…"

Whumper smiled giddly. They grabbed a fistful of Whumpee's hair and yanked it harshly upwards. Their eyes met each other as Whumper breath grazed lightly on Whumpee's skin.

"You are mine." They stated, searching for Whumpee's eyes for any sign of defiance. But they found none. Instead, Whumpee formed a genuine smile.

…

…

…

"I am yours, Master…"

~

Part 2

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Mind over Mind - Hero Whumper Villain Whumpee

Warnings: torture, violence, forced compliance, mind control

Summary: Hero almost loses the fight against Villain... until she uses her unique powers to flip the tables.

Villain and Hero had been fighting for only an hour when both of them started to falter from exhaustion, but that's just the kind of fights they got into. Quick. Intense. Violent. Bloody. The kind that's hardly survivable for long.

Hero wielded two wickedly sharp daggers in her hands, while Villain had one in his left, and a serrated hunting blade in the other. Their weapons clashed together repeatedly, showering sparks onto the ground as they fought fiercely for the upper hand, both of them covered in sweat, bruises and dozens of vicious injuries inflicted by their opponent.

"Don't you ever know when to give up?" Hero grunted through gritted teeth as she blocked yet another one of Villain's attacks.

"Nope, apparently not," Villain sneered, and slashed a blade across Hero's ribs, slicing open a deep gash that made her cry out in pain. It was all the opening he needed. He didn't give her a chance to recover.

Villain closed the distance between them and brutally pummeled Hero with a series of quick blows, too fast for her to block or dodge. He punched her gut hard enough to crack ribs, before landing another blow on her jaw with a concussive amount of force, making her head snap back -- and the peak of the fight was over just like that.

Hero faltered and stumbled back with a broken, rattling wheeze, falling to the ground, and Villain descended on her like a bird of prey, wrapping a strong hand around her throat and lifting her up to pin her against a wall, squeezing hard.

Hero's eyes widened as she clawed desperately at the hand cutting off her air, thrashing uselessly in Villain's grip with slowly failing strength.

"The real question is... do you know when to give up?" Villain chuckled coldly.

Blood trickled from both corners of Hero's mouth as her terrified gaze locked with Villain's.

STOP! A booming voice suddenly roared in Villain's head, making him jerk back in surprise, losing his grip on Hero so that she crumpled to the ground, gasping and choking and coughing blood, her eyes still locked intensely on Villain.

Something brushed against Villain's mind that made him shiver, like claws brushing lightly against his brain, wandering and prodding uncertainly, as though searching for a hold. Then those claws turned sharp, deadly, sinking in.

Villain's whole body went stiff, muscles locking in place as that same voice spoke again.

That's right... obey.

Villain's blood went colder than ice, his face going pale as a slow, stretching pain spread through his body, setting every nerve on fire with excruciating agony as it sank into every part of him.

His mouth gaped, he tried to speak, but couldn't find his voice.

He was rooted to the spot with fear as Hero slowly picked herself up off the dirt, gasping and panting as she caught her breath, rubbing her neck where Villain's hand had been mere seconds away from crushing her windpipe.

She straightened with a groan, staggering a little before finding her balance, one arm wrapped protectively around her bleeding midsection. Then a crooked grin that was part-grimace broke out on her face as she spat out a mouthful of blood.

"My, how the tables have turned," she taunted, though it came out in a shallow, weak rasp of air.

"H-How..." Villain breathed, eyes enormous as they watched Hero with sudden wariness.

Because I never reveal all my playing cards, the voice echoed in his head. It sounded like Hero's -- but her mouth hadn't moved.

My single biggest advantage is letting people underestimate me, the voice continued.

Fear -- genuine, raw fear pulsed through Villain's entire being when he tried to move -- but physically couldn't.

He swallowed hard, fighting to tamp down the rising panic and maintain any shred of composure.

"W-What are you doing... how are you doing this?" He snarled, finally snapping out of the shock.

Hero limped towards him until she was inches away, the icy blue depths of her eyes boring into his, full of righteous anger.

"Surprise... my superpower isn't limited to super strength." She grinned wolfishly at his confusion, the utterly bafflement on her enemy's face.

Funny, isn't it? It's almost like... you don't have control over yourself anymore.

Again, Hero's mouth didn't move.

Hero bent over and picked up Villain's own fallen dagger, pressing it into his hand and resting the tip against her chest without a glimmer of fear.

"Go ahead, give it your best shot," she purred. "All it takes is one little push to kill me... try it if you can."

Villain shuddered as those strange mental claws tightened on him.

He gripped his dagger hard, mustering every inch of willpower in him to end it, to finally kill his greatest enemy, be rid of the menace -- his hand trembled, but he couldn't bring the blade forward.

"Don't tell me you're too weak for murder," Hero mocked with a dramatic gasp.

Villain's brow furrowed, and he held the hilt tighter, pushing, yanking against those restraints shackling him in his own mind. The blade jerked forward an inch, but no more than that, and Hero let out a cold, heartless laugh, easily swatting the weapon out of Villain's hand before roughly grabbing his jaw hard enough to bruise, forcing him to look straight into her cruel eyes.

Villain let out a weak whimper, ashamed that the sound even slipped out. But he was injured, and in pain, confused, and so, so scared... fear was a new feeling for him. He was the most powerful villain in the entire city, strong enough to beat Hero on several different occasions -- but never had he been rendered so vulnerable, so useless before, like a puppet with strings, at the complete mercy of his enemy.

Hero carefully wrapped her other hand around his throat, and step by deliberate step, backed him up until he was pinned against the opposite wall. She applied the same pressure that Villain had put on her windpipe earlier, and Villain's chest started heaving as he struggled to keep drawing air. His eyes went huge with disbelief, he couldn't even fight, his arms weren't working right. None of him was, bound and chained by some invisible force.

Spots danced in his vision, and right when he thought he would pass out the pressure on his neck vanished, leaving him taking great gulping gasps of air.

Hero leaned in close, her head right next to his face.

"Doesn't feel very good, does it?" She hissed into his ear before pulling back.

Her fingers trailed down his chest, almost seductively, running over the shredded lines of his suit where long gashes had sliced through and ripped the leather. They stopped at his stomach, grazing over a particularly deep slash right below the ribs.

Villain shuddered with a wince, a low moan escaping him, and he cursed himself for it.

Hero stared at him, then dug her fingers viciously into the wound, never breaking eye contact, her expression deadpan and impassive.

Villain screamed in sheer agony and writhed, which was more like weakly twitching against the bonds holding him in one place.

Hero took her fingers out, and Villain was left trembling all over with pain, his injury throbbing. His head lolled forward, breathing harsh and ragged as he recovered.

"Huh, even agony can't let you break free," she murmured aloud, as though she were experimenting with Villain, testing the limits of her ability. It was dehumanizing, degrading, and flat-out terrifying to know that Hero could do whatever she wanted to him. Holding his life in her hands.

"S-Stop it... L-Let me go..." Villain croaked. He couldn't help the shakiness in his voice, and Hero's eyes lit up at hearing it. "S-Since when could you even do this?" He added.

"Since always," Hero answered flatly. "I just never show it. I don't use this power often, because it is unfathomably taxing on my body in ways you couldn't even imagine, but today... today I'm feeling violent." Her teeth bared into a feral grin, making Villain shiver uneasily.

"I haven't practiced using it much, so I'm curious to see what potential... motivations might be enough for your willpower and desperation to let you break free of my hold." She tilted her head to one side, a lethal predator in every slight movement. "I can break you in so many ways beneath the surface," she whispered dangerously.

"Let's see how strong your resolve is, hmm?" Hero's gaze dropped down where a dagger was, and she stomped on the hilt, skillfully flinging it up into her waiting hand.

Villain whimpered again anxiously, squirming and eyeing the bright metal, and she pressed the blade against his lips.

"Shhh... all you have to do is raise your left hand when the pain becomes too much, and I'll stop," she said mischievously. A deadly game for her, toying with her new victim like a plaything.

Hero leaned close again, her breath ghosting above Villain's carotid artery as she scraped her teeth lightly against his neck, teasing, violating his space.

She trailed the sharp edge of the blade down his bare arm, not breaking skin at first as she smiled coldly. Then she sliced it deep without warning, tearing a ragged wail from Villain as she started carving into his flesh over and over again while her enemy screamed his throat raw.

Villain tried desperately to push her away, to stop the excruciating agony, do something but stand there and take it... but he couldn't. He physically couldn't.

Tears of pure pain spilled out of his eyes and rolled down his cheeks, hiccupping sobs breaking up his breaths at the sheer intensity of it, every time the blade left a fresh mark of fire in his flesh.

He could feel the warm blood sliding down his arm to drip on the floor with every pounding heartbeat, endless suffering. It was worse when she switched from his arm to the sensitive skin of his abdomen, and he screamed and yelped and cried out as the metal bit his skin repeatedly. Hero showed no signs of stopping anytime soon.

Eventually the screaming devolved to agonized moaning and pathetic whimpers as Villain lost strength, his throat burning fiercely in the aftermath of all his loud cries.

Now, listen closely...

That voice returned in his head, and his stomach churned with dread. He couldn't take any more torture. Any more pain. His whole body was blazing with it.

Take the knife from my hand, and put it against your throat...

Hero held the dagger in her hand invitingly, stained with Villain's own blood.

Villain moaned as his shaky hand automatically lifted to take the blade, then his body betrayed him by resting the sharp, cool metal right under his chin. He swallowed against it, throat bobbing fearfully.

Saw through your neck.

Villain's eyes widened with terror, hand trembling as he fought against the mental claws Hero had sunk into him. But it was no use. The blade started slicing through his skin, and Villain closed his eyes, another teak leaking out as he accepted his fate.

...Now stop. Villain's body instantly obeyed, stiffening in place.

Villain took a rattling breath, cautiously opening his watery eyes to gauge Hero's expression, which was dark and unreadable.

I want you to remember this moment, her voice hissed into his mind, remember that I held your life in my hands... that I could have killed you right now... and I want you to run away from here with that memory, and the scar on your neck will remind you of me every time you look in the mirror. Run, and never come back. If I EVER see your face again... I will not stop.

And suddenly, a rush of cold washed over Villain, an aching absence of a hollow void that opened up, and Villain collapsed on the ground, panting as he felt those vicious mental claws retreat, releasing him at last.

Hero stepped back, eyes narrowed. "You have ten seconds to remove yourself from my line of sight before I change my mind. Run, or die. Ten."

Villain peered dizzily up at her, his face pale with blood loss. "...You're bluffing," he wheezed in disbelief.

"That is a theory you're certainly welcome to test. Nine." Hero's face stayed harsh and cruel, and Villain lurched to his feet with a gasp, not willing to risk the chance she'd given him.

He stumbled into an awkward, adrenaline-powered run, limping heavily away as fast as he could while Hero's voice trailed after him.

"Eight... seven... six..."

She never got to five before Villain was out of sight, slipping away into a dark alley. Gone. Never seen or heard from again.

I appreciate any and all feedback from my peers! 😁 (and if anyone has any other Hero x Villain prompt ideas or things they'd like to see more of feel free to share them and I might write a story for it)

Masterlist

@scoundrelwithboba

[countryhumans-whump]

This is my entry for October 5 of @ailesswhumptober - Sensory Overload | ‘I can’t take this anymore’

Whumpee: Iceland

Whumper: Norway

TW: Ableism, mistreatment of a disabled person, sibling abuse, implied autistic meltdown

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Iceland quickly paced around the kitchen, tapping his fingers together to try and calm himself down. His heart pounded in his ears and he couldn’t stop himself from shivering and whimpering. He wanted to be quiet, because he knew his sister Norway would come in and beat him.

Normally, his mum would comfort him. However, she wouldn’t be in the house for a few more minutes, and Norway was downstairs with him. He was frightened because for some reason, she got off from abusing him. He must have been a bit too loud, because suddenly he froze as he heard her quick, thundering footsteps.

“I told you to shut up!” Norway screamed as she thrusted the door open. Iceland turned quickly, placing his fists to his chest and staring at her with wide eyes. “You’re winging like a fucking baby, just shut up!” Norway was inches away from his face, her voice piercing his sensitive ears. He looked down, mumbling to himself and fidgeting his hands.

“What did you say?” She quickly grabbed on the fringe of his curly hair, causing him to yelp sharply. He looked in her eyes, trying to avoid any further anger from her. “Stop mumbling, you fuckin retard!”

“G-Get off me!” He squirmed, the loudest voice he could muster as he grasped onto her hands, trying to push her away. Immediately she punched him in the jaw, sending him onto the tiled floor with a sickening thud. He squealed at the sudden pain. She placed her foot on his stomach, towering over him.

He was so small under her, so afraid. Exactly how she wanted.

“Aww, it’s okay dear…” She cooed, grinning at him as she pushed her foot against him, Iceland writhing under her and whimpering. She opened a drawer, rummaging a little before pulling a flashlight out. After turning it on, she placed the light in front of his eyes.

Iceland’s head throbbed at the harsh light. He shut his eyes tightly, trying to squirm away from her, but he couldn’t escape the overstimulation. He needed to get away. The light was too intense for him to handle. Norway giggled to herself as she forced the flashlight into his eye, laughing at his weak attempts to force her away from him.

“I-I can’t take this anymore!” Iceland squealed. He immediately regretted it; telling her to stop would make her rage even worse.

“Not my fault you’re so fuckin weak!” She laughed manically, her hand grasping onto his throat and tightening around it. She loved making him so afraid.

Her eyes widened suddenly as she heard the rumble of a car pulling in the driveway. She didn’t want anyone catching what she was doing. She threw herself off of him, throwing the flashlight back into the drawer, before picking up Iceland and gently cradling him.

The door quickly opened and their mum walked in.

“What happened?” She asked, rather calmly as she turned to them.

“Thank god you’re here, Iceland’s just had a little meltdown.” Norway handed Iceland over to her. “I did my best to calm him, though.”

“Aww, did your big sister help you?” Their mother stroked his hair whilst he frantically nodded his head. He didn’t want to tell her, fearing how Norway would react. “It’s okay, I’m here,” she whispered as she walked him out of the kitchen, leaving Norway to grin to herself.

[jennyyy007]

PLAYTHING 🗝️ pt. 5

Bathtime!

Cw: Violence, female whumpee, male whumper, punishment, humiliation, degradation, cruel whumper, slave wumpee, drinking piss idk how else to say that

———————————————————————

Another week passed. In the mean time he fed her two times. The meals being rather normal. Not very good but he didn’t add anything disgusting to them.

But during the past week he also came to hurt her quite a lot. But he didn’t seem entertained when he abused her, like he usually is. He was angry. And he used her to let that anger out. Beating her, cutting her skin or kicking her until she couldn’t move anymore.

The girl has found a way to make use of the bottle he left with her a week back. The thought has been stuck with her for the past few days, she didn’t want to, but she has to.

Yesterday she peed inside the empty bottle. She’s been taking small sips occasionally. The taste is horrible but it lets her have at least a bit of hydration.

Footsteps. He’s coming.

The door opens and finally the light turns on again. The man immediately looks at her, stepping closer. He’s frustrated, she can tell by his expression and movements. He takes quick steps towards her cell.

Yeah… she knows why he’s here…

Mary squirms away slightly, further so her back presses against the wall. She doesn’t want to get punished again… everything hurts…

Her captor quickly opens up the cell as he looks down at her before he notices something.. the bottle. It’s still a bit more than half full with the yellow liquid. He crouches down before picking it up.

“What’s that hm?”

Mary looks in his eyes, curled up on the floor with an extremely worried expression.

“I-.. It’s a bottle.. w-.. with my urine..”

He looks down at it before opening it up letting out a chuckle. The girl keeps looking up at him, worried.

“You really can’t get anymore disgusting can you?”

The man says, raising the bottle up before pouring it all over her head, staining her hair with it.

“Ohhh wait. Now you are”

He says with a nasty smirk as be empties all of it before spitting in Marys face, humiliating her even more.

“I.. I’m sorry..”

She says with tears in her eyes. He reaches his hands to grip her hair, making her sit up as she cries.

“You think you’re not getting enough? You wanna have more food to fill your disgustingly fat body huh?!”

He yells in her face before he yanks her hair, making her fall on her side.

“Get up! Get the fuck up you little bitch!”

Mary follows his order, quickly lifting herself up. Her arm is slowly healing, tho she still can’t move it a lot so she struggles with using her other one.

The man grips her upper arm, forcing the girl up on her feet, making her stumble over the floor, dragging her out the cell. But Mary quickly realizes that they’re not going to the table or the torture room. He’s taking her to the door. The door leading outside.

“W-.. where are we- g-going?”

Mary asks weakly as she tries her best to walk, her knees soft as she hasn’t walked in quite a while. Whimpering with every step the take.

The man doesn’t answer her, before they leave the room, stepping through the door. They enter a small hallways which on the other end leads to some stairs.

He doesn’t stop walking, but instead of heading for the stairs he walks in a room that looks like it was used for washing and drying clothes before. The clothes line still hung between two walls. But now there’s only a metal tub inside.

The man throws the girl in the middle of the room before stepping back to the exit.

“Move an inch and I’m gonna break both of your kneecaps.”

He threatens before leaving her. Mary obeys his order. Not wanting to get in trouble more than she already is, scared of what he’s about to do.

After around two minutes later he walks in with two bit plastic bags filled with ice. He steps in front of the tub before emptying both of the bags inside. The sound of the ice colliding with the metal tub hurting Marys ears. After the man was done he quickly turns on the water, putting it on the coldest possible setting.

The girl looks terrified, hoping he wouldn’t make her do what it seems like. Around 5 minutes pass until the tub is full and he turns the water off again before turning to Mary.

“So? Get in.”

The girl stutters as she’s leaned against the wall, sitting on the floor still completely naked.

“I-.. I don’t- I can’t-“

Her captor makes an annoyed groan before he walks over to the girl, reaching out to grab her hair, gripping the top of her head as he drags her across the floor over to the tub.

“No- n-no plea-“

The man quickly picks her up before throwing her inside, some water splashing around. Her body gets covered by the cold water, it being absolutely freezing. Mary quickly gains back her senses before moving to get up, catching some air. Just as she sticks her head out to take a breath she can feel him grip her hair and push her head under water again, making her unable to breathe.

She struggles immediately, trying to get up but he doesn’t let her, keeping her there for around 10 seconds before lifting her head up again, quickly slapping it as he looks her face to face.

“Are you sorry for talking back?”

He asks pulling harder on her hair.

“U- mm.. m-mhm!”

Mary says whining as she opens her eyes, looking at his, noticing his disgusting smirk just before she’s pushed underwater again, this time he keeps her there for around little less than 30 seconds. Making her feel extremely dizzy as shes struggling.

As he lifts her face up he quickly moves to push her back, letting her lay in the tub, catching her breath for a good 10 seconds before she makes a few smaller sobs.

He reaches in his pocket before pulling out a small rag. Throwing it at her face.

“Wash yourself you smell like shit.”

He says as he stands in front of the tub, watching her.

“P-please it’s c-.. cold-“

She cries as she can barely grab the rag. Her bones hurting as she’s shivering all over.

“No. You’ll stay an hour. I didn’t put two bags of fucking ice there for nothing.”

He says as he grabs one of the folding chairs standing by the wall and sitting down on one to keep an eye on Mary, scrolling on his phone like this is normal.

The girl makes another whimper as she takes the cloth, starting to wash herself with it, even tho cold water doesn’t remove a lot of dirt and sweat.

The man takes a small glance over at Mary before standing up from his chair and walking in front of the tub again, his phone in hand before he moves it so the camera points down to Mary, taking a pick of her as she’s looking up. Her body, wounds and bruises completely visible, hair sticking to her face. She’s naked. Her breast being on the picture as well. Mary frowns, making a small cry as the man looks down at his phone, chuckling as he observes the picture.

“God you look fucking miserable”

He says as he walks back to his chair, typing something on his phone.

“W- what a-a.. a-re you g-gonna do w-.. with i-it?”

The girl says, stuttering even worse because of how cold she is. The man looks up from his phone, looking at Mary as he rolls his eyes.

“None of you’re business. And if I sold it to some horny bastards online you still wouldn’t have a say in it.. would you?”

He says chuckling as he looks in her eyes, her expression looking extremely upset, scared and humiliated. She continues washing herself before leaning back, trying to deal with the immense cold. Her fragile bones aching. Her skin red from hypothermia.

After an hour the man gets up from his chair. Walking over to Mary before picking her up under her shoulders, walking over to the chair and sitting her down on it before wrapping a thin blanket around her body.

“Can’t have you getting dirty already”

He says before taking slow steps over to the basement room again. Mary tightly grips the blanket, shivering heavily as she holds onto the man, not wanting him to let go. Not wanting him to leave her in that basement again. The man opens the door, stepping inside before letting go of her, the poor girl dropping down on the floor. She makes a soft whine as her body is forced to move.

Her captor starts walking over to the door and just as he was about to shut off the lights mary calls over for him.

“Please-..”

The man stops, his knuckles tightening around the doorknob.

“Please don’t turn it off.. I.. I’m scared of the dark”

She says in a whiny tone looking over at him. Wet hair sticking to her face and as tears run down her cheek.

He lets out a small chuckle before stepping out, shutting the door.. and the room returns to being pitch black…

———————————————————————

@a-living-canvas @catnykit @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

[starliight-whump]

Cold hands, sharp teeth - 7

previous - next

masterlist

Contains: minor character death, blood loss, blood drinking, vampire whumper, vampire whumper, restraints, muzzle, manipulation, captivity.

"I got a little something for you."

James stared with wide eyes at Harrison, or rather the blonde woman in his grip, completely entranced by her warm scent and the hammering of her heart, pumping blood around her body at a rapid rate. The lovely smell caused the burning in his dry throat to flare up along with the aches of hunger. As if on auto pilot James moved forward only to be stopped by the chains. Without taking his eyes off of her, James tugged at the chains but they didn't budge. He let out a frustrated, desperate growl and tugged again, harder this time. The silver cuffs dug hard into his already injured skin around his wrists, so hard that a little bit of blood trickled down from under them but the pain barely registered. The hunger seemed to block out everything else. He needed her blood. More than he’d ever needed anything before.

James barely registered Harrison's laugh, or the young woman's panic. She was crying now, fully panicking. "Please don't hurt me, please!" She begged. Harrison only seemed amused by her fear, there was a smile on his face as he shushed her. "Now, dear, just stay right here until I say otherwise." He instructed her. Now, despite how much she wanted to run, there was nothing she could do.

Even as Harrison walked closer, James mostly had eyes for the human woman. It was only when the vampire crouched down next to him that James looked over to him with wild eyes.

Harrison chuckled. "You're really hungry, huh? I'm gonna remove this," he brought his hand up to the muzzle that kept James' mouth shut. "But you better not bite me. Save that for your little snack." With that, the muzzle was finally removed and James was honestly too hungry to even try to bite Harrison now. His head immediately snapped back towards the woman, this time with his fangs bared as he tugged at the chains again.

The poor woman was trembling like a leaf but James couldn't even comprehend her fear, it didn't seem important in the light of his hunger and the scent of her blood that promised relief from the painful burning in his throat.

Harrison chuckled and looked over at the woman. “Now, dear, come closer.” he ordered and she had no choice but to comply, trembling and crying as she stepped forward. “No, p-please just let me go, please!” 

As she got closer, James was on his feet within a second despite his weak state, and let out another frustrated growl as he tugged at the chains once more. She was so close, almost within reach. And then, a couple steps later, she was. James lounged immediately and the woman screamed as he grabbed her, but that didn't stop him from sinking his fangs into her neck. Immediately, blood flowed into his mouth; warm and better than anything he’d ever had before. The taste was intoxicating, and the blood soothed the burning in his throat. Finally. A pleased sigh left his lips and he closed his eyes as he continued to drink. It was so good, and James couldn't stop. Didn't want to stop.

The woman eventually calmed down, but James barely noticed that, nor did he notice how she was growing weaker and weaker; it was as if a fog had settled over his mind and blocked out everything but the wonderful taste of blood on his. The more he drank, though it eventually seemed to ease and the world around James seemed to come more into focus. Suddenly he realized that the woman was more or less slumped against him and just how weak her heartbeat was. That wasn't good… James pulled back a little, reflexively licking the blood from his lips. Horror washed over him by the sight of her too pale face and the blood on her neck. Oh no!

Instantly he let go of her and backed away an d she dropped to the floor, eyes blank and empty as her heart beat one last time.

“N-no, I…” James touched his lips and when he looked down on his fingers, they came away stained red with blood. “I- I killed her, I didn't want… I didn 't mean to!” Panic and guilt overwhelmed him. He’d hurt someone, killed them! He-...

“Yes, you did.” 

James quickly turned to look at Harrison, who had a smug smile on his lips. “No..” he shook his head. He never wanted to hurt anyone, even less kill someone! James' breath started to speed up and began to tremble.

“That's exactly what you wanted, James. I saw it. You grabbed that woman and bit her of your own free will. I didn't force you to do it.”

Tears gathered in James' eyes and rolled down his face. He never wanted to hurt anyone, and now he’d killed someone and the guilt was too much to bear. “N-no. I- I was so hungry, I didn't mean to…” He insisted tearfully, desperation lacing his voice. “Now you can really see, you’re like me, James. A monster." Harrison grinned, and right now James couldn't help but to feel that his captor was right… How could he not be a monster when he’d killed someone?

: @mirasmirages @emcscared-whumps @painful-pooch, @darkredrevolution

[whumppmuhw]

Whumptober Day 23: Begging, "take me instead," forced to watch

tw: kicking/beating, conditioned whumpee, failed escape, restraints, punishment, cruel whumper

another triple threat!! here we go again

...

Whumpee was forced to watch as Whumper dragged Caretaker by the collar of her shirt into the middle of the room.

"So, you think you can just waltz in here and take what's mine, do you?" Whumper was furious. They started kicking Caretaker in the side, stomping on her ribs and spitting at her face.

Whumpee didn't have many options. She couldn't bear to sit back and watch Caretaker get beaten after trying to set her free. Besides, Whumpee was used to pain, used to Whumper's insults and fury in a way Caretaker was not. It had to be her.

"Whumper, p-please," Whumpee begged. Whumper stopped, all attention on Whumpee. "Don't hurt her, she d-doesn't deserve it, it was me who wanted to run away, she was only trying to help."

"And what would you have me do?" Whumper sneered. "Not punish the person who broke in and tried to take you away? Sure, you tried to leave, you'll get your punishment, but she deserves one too, don't you think?"

Whumpee looked at Caretaker, curled up on the floor, fear in her eyes as she waited for Whumper's next move. "I-I'd rather it be me. I'll take her punishment too. Just please, please don't hurt her any more."

"Very well."

Whumper dragged Caretaker to the wall. They untied Whumpee and used the ropes to tie Caretaker up. They walked back to the center of the room, waiting for Whumpee to follow. She didn't need to be told what to do.

...

Caretaker was forced to watch as Whumpee followed Whumper to the middle of the room and knelt before them.

Whumpee's voice was small and quiet, a direct contrast to what it was before she had been brought here. She used to be so defiant, standing up to any authority who dare challenged her will. Now, she was reduced to this, and Caretaker didn't want to imagine what Whumper had done to her to make her this way.

"Master, I accept this punishment."

'Master?' When did she start calling them 'master?'

"Good. Since you'll be receiving a double punishment, let me get a tool that'll deal it well." They walked over to a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire and picked it up, carrying it over to Whumpee.

Even though Whumpee was trying to her best to defuse the situation, Caretaker could tell that Whumper was dying to release his anger on somebody. She could only hope that Whumpee's obedience would save her from the harshest blows, but this looked a lot worse than a few kicks.

Both Whumpee and Caretaker cried out as the bat came down.

[hurtmyfavsthanks]

Febuwhump day 3 ALT 5: Timeloop

Caretaker doesn’t clearly remember the first time they saw Whumpee die.

It’s not that it happened a long time ago, technically it hasn’t happened at all yet, but rather that the memory was little more than a mess of emotions and flashes of images that Caretaker doesn’t have the ability nor interest in deciphering.

They remembered that it’d be an accident, remembered everyone insisting there was nobody to blame, that Caretaker had done their absolute best. But more than anything, they remember Whumpee’s expression, wide eyed and growing rapidly distant, as they bled out on the floor. Caretaker could never forget that.

And then they remember waking up in bed again, their partner Whumpee snoring next to them as if they hadn’t just been declared dead a few hours ago.

Caretaker made no effort to stop the tears that sprung to their eyes at the sight. They held Whumpee close, pressing their ear to their chest just to hear the heartbeat. Whumpee had woken up then, confused but more than willing to comfort Caretaker after what seemed to be a horrible nightmare. Caretaker let themselves be comforted. They put what they’d seen out of their mind, but if Caretaker was a bit more doting than usual, then nobody would blame them.

Caretaker remembers the second time they saw Whumpee die very well. They remember how it was them who’d insisted on going into town that day, and it was Whumpee who insisted on driving. They remember the benign conversation about films they’d had with Whumpee as they drove down the road. They remember the harsh, clipped words Whumpee let out in the split second they had to react before the truck barreling the wrong way down the road slammed into them.  They remember regretting never having learned enough of Whumpee’s native tongue to understand what their last words meant.

And then they woke up again. With Whumpee snoring next to them. Again.

Caretaker doesn’t remember how many times they’ve seen Whumpee die, but they do know it’s inescapable. If they leave home, there’s a car or falling debris or something waiting to snatch their love away. If they stay where they are, there’s some freak accident at home waiting to do the same thing. And if they beg Whumpee, beg their loving and damnably stubborn love to simply waste the day in bed, they’ll eventually find an excuse to leave.

One day, or perhaps more accurately, one iteration of the same day, Caretaker finally asked what Whumpee’s final words on that second loop meant. Whumpee simply gave them a confused look, sleepily rubbing at their eye, and answered. “Look out, or something like that. Why’re you asking?”

They’d been trying to warn Caretaker. Whumpee had wasted their last seconds trying to warn Caretaker of the oncoming danger, as if Whumpee wasn’t the one experiencing a new horrible death every morning. If Caretaker didn’t already know that their love would die again, only to wake up with no memory of it, they might have felt embarrassed at bursting into tears in response to their love’s answer.

Caretaker remembers the first time they betrayed Whumpee. They knew they were doing it for their own good. They knew that they were willing to do anything to keep Whumpee alive. But sneaking those sleeping pills into Whumpee’s breakfast felt like crossing a line they could never come back from.

Caretaker had only looked away for a moment. In all the loops they’d endured, Whumpee had never had a reason to drive into the city by themselves. Apparently whatever damned curse that had captured them could make a reason. They didn’t need to answer the repeated calls from the hospital to know their love was gone.

Caretaker had tried the pills again in the next loop, hoping a stronger dose would simply knock Whumpee out before they could be tempted into danger. They don’t remember the moment they realized Whumpee wasn’t lying asleep on their bed, but they do remember not to ignore the dose remediation again.

Caretaker knows they will never forget the first time their beloved looked at them with terror in their eyes. They could never forget how Whumpee was jolted from their sleep by a chloroform soaked cloth being pressed into their face, disorienting them just long enough for Caretaker to bind their arms and legs together with zip ties. Caretaker will never forget that they were the reason Whumpee begged and cried, confused and horrified as they struggled against being carried into the basement.

Caretaker knew that it’d be worth it in the end. If it meant they could both see tomorrow, anything would be worth it. But they knew that Whumpee would never forget what they’d done to get to tomorrow.

[defire]

Cw: drug use

Whumpee watched the curls of smoke from whumper's Marlboro with secret jealousy, forcing themselves to long for it from a distance.

"You smoke?" Whumper said in a friendly tone.

Despite the calm expression on their face, whumpee knew from experience that whumper would blow up at the slightest indication of rejection.

So whumpee answered truthfully,

"I've been clean for two years."

Whumper silently removed the cigarette pack again and shook one out, holding it out at whumpee.

"I mean, I'm..." Whumpee was going to repeat that they were clean , but the look on whumper's face was dangerous. "...Thanks." They said instead, taking the cigarette and allowing whumper to light it for them.

They watched as two years' progress evaporated with the rising smoke.

Whumpee who recently got off of some addiction (drugs, caffeine, something like that), but during captivity, Whumper forces them to take the addiction back.

(Was thinking of that one story @kabie-whump wrote with Ventis. 👀)

[serickswrites]

Heavy Burden IV

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5

Warnings: captivity, torture, restraints, blood, cuts, wounds, cruel whumper

"Please...hngggg, please let me see them," Caretaker said breathlessly. Whumper had started to cut deeper when they reached Caretaker's chest. Caretaker couldn't keep silent any longer. But they didn't have to scream.

"No," Whumper said coldly. "Why would I let you see them when I can enjoy your pain like this?"

"Please," Caretaker tried again. They had to keep talking. It distracted Whumper. Distracted Whumper from cutting them. And distracted Whumper from noticing that Caretaker had begun to slip the cuffs around their wrists. They could keep Whumper distracted.

"Absolutely fucking not. This is way more fun. Don't you think? Your pain under my knife. Your pain not seeing Whumpee. Your pain not knowing what I did to Whumpee. That is much more fun than letting you see them."

"I....I'll scream for you. If...If you let me see them." Caretaker made their voice sound extra breathy. Tried to look as pained as possible. Anything to distract Whumper.

"I'll let you see them. In due time. When I'm ready. But first, I want to keep enjoying you as you are."

Caretaker opened and closed their mouth. They just needed a few more inches. A few more inches and then they would be free. Just a few more minutes. They could do this. Whumpee just had to hold on a bit longer.

Tags: @gala1981 @pretty-little-whump @painsthegame @whump-and-other-things @whumping-llama

@sadist-by-night @genuinelythioehat-is-whump @lilixloveswhump @outlawaries @tiny-feral-arachnid-man

@ash-skylard @me-likey-the-whump @artisticdemon @annng567 @st0rmm

@watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @mousepaw @corbytheking @j-is-evil-28 @orangeduckweed

@cravesunconditionallove @jumpywhumpywriter @knightinbatteredarmor @hufflepuffwritingstuff2 @anightmarishwhump

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @celestialsoyeon @ay5ksal

[chaotic-orphan]

Delirious Villain x Hero Caretaker (5)

Read part one here // Continued from here

Heed the TW (and mind yourselves please <3):

TW: emotional abuse, physical abuse, mental abuse, vomiting, forced vomiting, violence, elements of psychosis, psychosis episode-like symptoms, vulnerable whumpee, intimate whumper, older brother whumper, young sibling whumpee, gaslighting, manipulation, sick whump, sickness whump, illness whump, reuniting with whumper, PTSD, facing whumper who gave PTSD, bad family relationships,

~*~*~*~*~*~

Villain eyed Superhero wearily. Despite all their training, all their progress, Superhero had a height and weight advantage over Villain. His broad shoulders stood proud, supporting his stupid head, with his smirk that made Villain’s stomach crawl. They needed to get out of here, to get help.

They wouldn’t make it to the door in the condition they were in, so that was out of the question. His eyes flicked to the couch where he was asleep not a few minutes ago, which felt like a lifetime now. He couldn’t see his phone. He needed to call Hero, but maybe it was tangled in the blankets?

“I can see the cogs turning, Vil,” Superhero said with a happy sigh. “If you’re hoping that your precious Hero comes to save you in time, don’t. They’re too busy saving someone worth saving.”

“Shut up!” Villain growled, pushing at Superhero’s chest with their free hand. “Get off of me!”

Superhero chuckled, tsking and shaking his head at Villain’s outburst. Villain’s heart didn’t forget to beat after that, the guilt at his Brother’s disappointment didn’t still affect him. It didn’t.

“Where are your manners, Vil? Jeez, does Hero just let you run wild? That must be so annoying for them.”

“Hero loves me.”

Superhero leaned in, dark eyes glittering with malice. “Oh yeah? Then why aren’t they here looking after you?”

Villain’s face scrunched up. “Because you sent them away!”

“Or are they just so tired with you that they had to get out of the house for a while. It seems like the latter to me. God, I remember how annoying you were. Nobody, not even Hero has enough patience to handle you.”

“Hero loves me,” Villain said again, this time a little quieter.

“No. They don’t. They probably just feel sorry for you and how pathetic you are. Like a wounded baby bird whose wings are too weak to make it fly.”

“My life doesn’t concern you anymore! You don’t have to interact with me on a daily basis! Please let me go. Please, Brother, please.”

Superhero pressed a finger to his lips. “Shush. No begging yet, Vil. It’s unbecoming.”

Without warning, Superhero yanked Villain off the wall and was about to throw him to the floor when the pair froze. Villain’s ringtone played mutely from the bedroom. Villain’s eyes widened.

Hero.

Superhero recovered quicker than Villain, a cruel grin on his face as he started dragging Villain towards the bedroom. He got a hand on the back of Villain’s neck and shoved him down so Villain had to walk awkwardly bent over. Superhero opened the door to the bedroom and saw the phone lighting up on the bed.

He threw Villain to the ground beside the bed, laughing as Villain stumbled before he hit the floor with a groan, grabbing Villain’s phone off the bed.

“Aww, Vil. It’s Hero. Probably calling you to tell you that they’re leaving you.”

“Shut up,” Villain hissed, rubbing their hip that took the brunt of the impact.

Superhero turned Villain’s phone to Villain so they could see the picture of Hero laughing, ice-cream in hand, a dollop of mint chocolate chip on the tip of their nose.

“Cute,” Superhero said with a scoff, then put his finger in his mouth and mimed vomiting. Superhero waited for Hero to hang up before scrolling through Villain’s phone. Superhero raised their brows, glancing at Villain over the phone. “You seriously don’t have a passcode or something?”

“Don’t need it.”

Superhero scoffed, turning his attention back to the phone. Villain moved to get to their feet when Superhero’s stare snapped to them. “Don’t move or I’ll kill Hero.”

That froze Villain in their movements, their heart hitching at Superhero’s easy threat. Superhero didn’t seem too bothered by it and soon his face split into a wide smile.

“Aww, look Vil. Hero text: Superhero,” Superhero paused, grinning down at Villain pointing to himself. “That’s me.” Then went back to reading. “Superhero said that he was short staffed, and sent me to West-point so I will be home later than usual. Sorry for leaving you again, there’s soup in the freezer if you feel up to it. I love you. xx.”

Villain tightened their hands into fists by their sides, clenching their jaw against every word that Superhero read. Hero was going to be home later than normal? West-point, that was at least an hour by metro from here and who knows when they’d get home… especially because—

Villain raised their gaze to Superhero who was grinning above them. “You weren’t short-staffed, were you?”

“Of course not,” Superhero said with a smirk. “I just had to get Hero away from you for a while. Hell, even Other Hero and Sidekick should’ve gone to central hospital but I asked for them to be transferred to West-point so we could have some long overdue family time.”

Superhero tapped on Villain’s phone a little longer and grinned after locking the screen, pocketing the phone in his back-pocket. “Just in case you get any ideas.”

Villain glared at him from the ground, a sudden overwhelming helplessness returning to him that he hadn’t felt since he was a kid. Since he moved out of his family home. Now it came back with a viciousness that threatened to drown him and left him clawing against it just to keep his head above the water and his breathing even.

“Now,” Superhero said, inspecting Villain with his piercing gaze. “What to do with you.”

“Just leave,” Villain tried. “Please. I don’t— I’m not apart of your life anymore. You don’t— you don’t have to do this.”

“Vil, Vil, Vil,” Superhero sighed walking towards Villain. “Family doesn’t quit on each other. They never give up on you. I know I don’t have to try and fix you, the truth is I never did. I just wanted what was best for you.”

“Yeah right! You just wanted what was best for you! Can’t have your little brother embarrass you in public!”

Superhero, to Villain’s surprise, softened at that. Villain didn’t trust it for a second.

“You’re right,” Superhero said with a breath. “I was so worried about what kind of shame or embarrassment you would bring on me. I didn’t want people associating failure with us.”

Superhero crouched in front of Villain, tilting his head to the side. A strange smile on his lips, that Villain couldn’t quite discern. It looked whimsical and yet sad, wait— was that a genuine smile? No. It couldn’t be.

“It’s because I saw our potential, Villain,” Superhero said with a scoff. “Y’know, it’s stupid, but when I worked so hard to be Superhero, to become the best and bring prestige to our family name… well, I pushed you hard too because I always imagined that it would be something that we’d do together. Something we’d achieve together. The best brother Superhero duo in history.”

Villain’s heart cracked a little, a swarm of guilt spilling out like a leak in a dam, constricting his chest. Villain longed to reach out, to close the distance between them to apologise for not being able to live up to Superhero’s expectations.

To tell him that Villain tried. He really fucking tried, but Superhero was always stronger, faster, better than he was and he couldn’t be the same.

He didn’t though. He tightened his hands into fists and stared at Superhero who looked six feet deep in fond memories and regrets.

“I’m sorry, Vil.”

It felt as if time stopped. As if the Earth stopped turning, and the world stood frozen. The moment right before a car crash, or something inevitable happening; the cusp that hides between moments like a trapdoor spider, waiting until you lowered your guard before attacking and killing you.

Villain’s voice was a whisper: “what?”

Superhero swallowed, forcing himself to meet Villain’s gaze. “I’m sorry, Villain.”

There was no joke or humour in Superhero’s face as he said that, again. Apologised? Again! But— but— Villain’s brain was fried from their flu because this must be another trick? Another hallucination. Superhero being sorry for something? Feeling remorse?

“I’m sorry about what happened on the outside, how people perceived us, what you said and did outside the house that I didn’t even think about how it all must’ve effected you. I’m sorry that I wasted all that time trying to correct your behaviour outside the house when really,” Superhero’s hand shot out like a viper to grab Villain by the throat, slamming him back against the wall. “Really I should’ve focused more on your manners and knowing your fucking place.”

Superhero stood, bringing Villain with him and threw him across the room. Villain tried to catch themselves before their face hit the wall by throwing their hands out, but they landed awkwardly on their wrist and the pain ricocheted down their arm. Villain hissed, retracting their arm but they didn’t have time to react before a hand was in their hair and bashing their skull against the wall.

Once. Twice. Three times.

Villain went dumb from the impact, their brain struggling to comprehend what was happening, but the pain. They felt the pain spread like wildfire through their skull.

The hand in their hair tightened and Villain cried out as they were dragged across the bedroom, back towards the kitchen. They tried to gain purchase on the ground with their knees, but Superhero was moving too fast for them to keep up.

Superhero paused two feet from the doorway. Villain didn’t know why, they just slumped to the ground like a dog in shade during a heatwave. They just needed to catch their breath. Or pass out. Either was a good option.

Superhero didn’t seem to think so. He lifted his hand suddenly, dragging Villain’s head up to look Villain in the eye. Villain hissed, hands clawing at the strong grip on his hair. Superhero grabbed Villain by the throat, slamming his head back into the wall.

Villain groaned at the impact, moving his hands to try and dislodge Superhero’s hand from his throat. “God. You really are pathetic, aren’t you? Did I not teach you anything?”

Superhero stepped back, dropping all contact from Villain who struggled not to slump down the wall to the floor.

Superhero took two steps back, running a hand down his face, pinning Villain to the wall with a harsh glare. Villain’s entire body was trembling at them, struggling to keep themselves up in case they needed to bolt. But Superhero’s eyes caught every tremor, every flinch or wince.

“You’re still fucking ruining everything. It’s all you ever do, isn’t it?”

“Fuck off.”

“You really don’t know, do you? You make people weak, Villain.” Villain froze at the emotion colouring Superhero’s voice. “You make people weak, because they feel like they need to look after you, or take care of you. For fuck’s sake, you can barely stand by your-fucking-self! You needed Hero to take days off of work to mind you while you were sick, like some fucking child! Do you know how embarrassing that is!”

“My life doesn’t concern you anymore,” Villain spat, tears pinpricking their eyes.

Superhero scoffed. “Doesn’t concern me?”

Superhero studied Villain’s face, the wince after Superhero spoke. Then recognition flashed on his face, putting two and two together.

“You didn’t tell Hero that we’re related,” Superhero said, tilting his head to the side, a smile gracing his lips at Villain’s silence. “Oh that is… that is hilarious. The person you love the most? You’re keeping secrets from them?”

“We are not related,” Villain said, their voice coming out stronger than they felt in that moment. “You are nothing to me. I left you and Mom, and Dad. I left. I made a life for myself, a life where I’m loved by somebody. Why can’t you be happy for me?”

“What, you think Hero actually loves you?”

Villain flinched at the words. “Oh you do, don’t you?” Superhero cooed, walking towards Villain again and grabbing their face in his hands. “Oh. You poor fucking idiot. You have no idea how much Hero hates you, do you?”

Villain’s eyes glistened with tears. Superhero slammed Villain’s head back into the wall.

“Do you?”

“Just leave… leave me alone,” Villain begged, tears finally spilling over his eyes. “Please.”

Villain’s hand reached up and curled his fingers around Superhero’s wrist, weakly tugging at it.

“I can make them love you again,” Superhero whispered. “I know how. I can make you worth something in their eyes, isn’t that what you want?”

Villain sniffled, nodding. Superhero cooed, brushing the sweaty hair back from Villain’s face. “I know. I know you’re scared, but big bro’s here now, hmmm? Come on.”

Superhero pulled Villain away from the wall gently, taking Villain’s wrist in his hand. “Come on.”

“Where are we—” Villain asked, their voice hitching, wiping away their tears with the sleeve of their shirt. “Where’re we going?”

Villain’s mind only registered they were walking towards the bathroom when Superhero opened the door. Then they started pulling against Superhero’s hold.

“No! No, no, no, no, no!” Villain cried, going limp and yanking backwards. Superhero dropped Villain, cursing at them for the sudden weight. Villain took the opportunity to roll onto their stomach, pushing themselves to their hands and knees and rushing forwards. They threw themselves to their feet, stumbling slightly, almost rolling on their ankles but they were standing. They bolted for the door to the bedroom, slamming their shoulder into the doorframe as they propelled themselves out and towards the front door.

A hand caught the back of their shirt and Villain cried out. They were yanked backwards, their head slamming off the doorframe to the bedroom. Villain fell like a sack of bricks and Superhero let them.

Villain blinked up bleary-eyed at the ceiling, the world swimming in a whirlwind of colour. Two Superhero’s appeared above Villain, shaking their heads, as if they were disappointed parents looking down on an unruly child.

“Look at what you did,” Superhero said, the words coming in and out of focus like pulses. He leaned down, crouched above Villain. Then a hand passed over his face and Villain’s head whipped to the side. They whimpered. “Ah. There you are,” Superhero said, only one of him now. “Still with me, Vil.”

Another slap and Villain whimpered, weakly pushing their hand against Superhero’s. Superhero easily batted it away, opting to instead pinch Villain’s cheeks between their thumb and forefinger and dig their fingers in until Villain’s mouth formed an O and they cried out.

“Listen runt, I didn’t want to hurt you! Don’t you see? I’m trying to help you. You’ve clearly let yourself go since the last time I saw you, and nobody, not even Saint Hero will love you if you’re fat and disgusting. You want to be worth Hero’s love, don’t you?”

Tears welled behind Villain’s eyes and they tried to turn their head away, not wanting to face Superhero and the truth in his words. Superhero didn’t even let Villain flinch in any direction before his grip tightened.

“Don’t you want to be someone worthy of love?” Superhero asked, his voice imperceptibly soft. Villain let out a pathetic yes, their voice muffled by Superhero’s hold on their face. Superhero’s features smoothed out and he nodded sympathetically. “I know. Come on, let’s get you up. I’m just trying to help you be worthy of Hero.”

Superhero helped Villain to sit up, openly crying now. Superhero nodded his head compassionately. “I know. I know. Shh. It’s okay. Big bro’s here now. He’s going to make everything better. Ssh. Don’t worry. Come on, runt.”

Superhero helped the wailing Villain to their feet, guiding them towards the bathroom again. Villain, resigned, followed along because they didn’t want to get hit again. They didn’t want to try and fight back and get beaten again. They didn’t want to be ugly for Hero, they wanted to be worthy of them. Hero was brilliant, perfect, why would they settle for anything less than that? God, Superhero was right.

Superhero gently pushes Villain to their knees, and tells them to: “open up.”

Villain felt the familiar fear creep back up their spine, making their hair stand on end. They shook their head, making to stand up but Superhero kept a hand on Villain’s shoulder, keeping them in place.

“Come on. You said you wanted to be worthy of Hero, right?”

Villain deflated. A part of them wanted to be perfect, to listen to Superhero and just give in, save themselves the pain. The other part was screaming at them, telling them they were worth more than this. That they hated this, and that Hero loved them no matter what. Strangely the voice telling them to fight sounded an awful lot like Hero’s.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to do anything. I’ll do it all, remember?” Superhero coaxed, his fingers tracing Villain’s jaw and resting at their bottom lip. “Come on, Villain.”

Villain didn’t protest, but they didn’t fight Superhero either, so when his fingers pushed past Villain’s lips, Villain didn’t move. Only when they went far, hitting Villain’s gag reflex did Villain start fighting him.

They shot up from their knees on instinct, but Superhero’s hold kept them down, his other hand going to the back or Villain’s hair and pulling it, yanking their head back so he could shove his fingers down further.

Villain whined, shaking their head. They didn’t want this, they didn’t want this! Villain felt bile climbing his throat and he jerked forward, but Superhero didn’t move his fingers and they hit the back of Villain’s tongue. Villain felt the warmth climbing his throat, gripping the toilet seat and ready to vomit.

Superhero pulled his fingers out at the last second, and Villain heaved. It was only bile that came out, green-hued see through slime, because Villain hadn’t eaten in days.

Superhero clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Hmm. That won’t do. We’ll go again.”

Before Villain could protest, Superhero’s fingers were in his mouth again, unmerciful as they shot to the back of Villain’s throat. Villain grabbed Superhero’s wrist, pulling his fingers out. “Don’t fight me, Vil. We agreed.”

Superhero’s fingers hit Villain’s throat again, and they felt the muscles in their neck contracting as another wave of nausea hit them. Panicking and wanting Superhero to just let them go, Villain clamped their jaw around Superhero’s hand.

Superhero yelped, then roared and yanked their hand out of Villain’s jaw. “I’m—” Villain gasped, but Superhero cut them off with a punch to the face. Villain’s head veered down, hitting off the edge of the ceramic toilet bowl with a dull thump.

A hand in their hair and their head was wrenched back. Superhero’s fist flashed in the corner of their eye, and struck the same place in their jaw, keeping them straight.

“I thought we agreed that I—” punch. “Know” punch. “Better.” A sharp slap deafened Villain as Superhero released them again, their head snapping to the side. “I don’t want to hurt you, but you force me to, Vil. I hate to see you like this, but as your older brother I’ll do what I have to do, to make you a better person.”

A sharp kick to the stomach, once, twice, three times and Villain lurched forward, crying out and swallowing hard to keep the rush of liquid crawling like a tidal wave up their throat. Superhero grabbed Villain by the throat. Leaning his face in closer to them.

“Come on, Vil,” Superhero said sweetly. “You want to look your best for Hero, don't you? You want to deserve them, right?”

“Pl—please,” Villain stammered, choking on Superhero’s tight grip. “Just lemme— go.”

“Stop fighting me, runt, I'm just trying to look out for you.”

Superhero pinched Villain’s jaw between his thumb and index finger, his nails digging into their cheeks, drawing blood, and forcing their mouth open. His fingers found the back of Villain’s throat, pressing down on Villain’s gag reflex.

Villain felt the muscles in his throat tighten, the bile burning acidic up their throat and they lunged forward, Superhero withdrew his hand from Villain’s mouth, but kept pinching their cheeks so Villain couldn’t swallow. Only when he was satisfied that Villain was about to hurl did he let go, grinning down as Villain spewed into the toilet.

A lot more than last time, their stomach ached as they vomited. A momentary pause and then another bout reared its head and tears streamed down their face, sobbing as they let the feeling run its course out of them.

Superhero patted Villain’s hair like a dog. “Good, see. You did so good.”

“What are you doing?”

Villain froze at the voice. Superhero’s hand stopped rubbing Villain’s hair, but he didn’t remove it from Villain’s head. Hero rushed in, going to Villain’s side and get grabbing their face in their hands, thumbing away the tears.

“Villain, shhh. Shhh, it’s okay.” Hero cooed. Villain sobbed against Hero’s hands, the gentle touches. They weren’t worthy of this kindness. They didn’t deserve Hero’s caring love. This was pity. They pitied Villain, that’s why they looked so caring in that moment. Not out of love. Why was Villain so weak to melt at the kindness, they should be worthy of them! Hero shouldn’t have to see Villain like this. “I’m here now. It’s okay.”

Hero glanced back at Superhero, eyes narrowed into a glare. “What are you doing here?!”

“I knew you would be away for a while today, Hero. And I knew you would be worried sick about your ill partner so I thought I would come and look after them for you.”

Hero’s eyes found Villain’s, searching, scanning for any sign that Superhero was lying. Villain was skittish and heaving, not meeting Hero’s eyes. There was something wrong, was it just vomiting? Being sick? No, this was different. Villain was incoherent and violent last time, now they were just… subdued and lifeless and terrified.

“You stepped over the line, Superhero,” Hero said firmly, eyes burning down at their lover. “Please wait in the living room while I help them to bed.”

Superhero’s eyes met Villain’s over Hero’s shoulder, a sadistic smile on his lips. He brought a finger to his lips and pointed down at Hero. Then drew a line across his throat and mimicked Hero being killed.

“Of course, Hero,” Superhero said easily, while Villain’s trembles intensified. Hero waited until Superhero had walked out the door before looking back at Villain.

“Vil, oh my god, I’m so sorry. Are you okay? I’m so sorry, I should have never left you.”

They’re just saying that because you’re weak, Villain thought.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t ask Superhero to come. I didn’t know they would do something as crazy as this!”

They’re tired of you. They don’t love you, if they did they would have never left. You’re exhausting, you wear people out.

“Come on, Vil. Talk to me.” Hero said, leaning forward and pressing their forehead against Villain’s. Villain could feel Hero’s warm breath fanning against their face. They weren’t even worthy of this. “Shhh. Vil, it’s okay. I’m here now and I’m not leaving.”

When Hero wrapped their arms around Villain, Villain couldn’t hold it together anymore and they broke down into sobs that wracked their entire body. Their fingers turned to claws in Hero’s shirt, bunching it and holding on and not wanting to let go.

They were weak, they were so weak that they made the people they loved weak for them. It bled through from Villain into them, and now they were breaking Hero’s heart. They didn’t deserve Hero’s heart. They didn’t deserve any of this comfort and warmth and love.

Hero held them tightly and kissed their hair and cheek and anything their lips could reach, whispering reassurances and telling them that they loved them.

When Villain’s sobs had calmed down to mere whimpers and sniffles, Hero moved them, putting one hand under their legs and the other under their shoulders and lifted them like they were a baby. Villain curled into Hero’s embrace, a deep red blush filling their face with warmth.

Hero shouldn’t have to do this, to be the strong one. Villain was the strong one! God what happened to them?! Why couldn’t they just be perfect for Hero?

Hero put them into bed, lying beside them under the covers. They tilted Villain’s head down to lie on top of Hero’s chest, hearing their heartbeat. They were a tangle of limbs.

“What about,” Villain sniffed, “Superhero?”

Hero’s eyes darkened. “Let him wait. You’re my priority, Villain. You always will be. Never forget that.”

Villain sniffed, fresh tears streaming down their cheeks. “I love you Hero.” They said even though it broke their heart to say that. Weak! So weak!

“I love you more than you’ll ever know,” Hero whispered into Villain’s hair, kissing the top of their head.

*~*~*~*~*

[a-living-canvas]

A request from @electrons2006

Horizon's Haze

I want to make you feel scared.

Whumpee smiled softly to himself, admiring the littered scars and marks around his arms and torso. It's an honour, really. To have Whumper marking him like this. It's a symbol of love.

Whumper loves him.

Leaned in close, Whumpee peppered his fading scars with kisses. So gentle and so soft as his mind filled with Whumper.

His body was trembling, yes, but that didn't bother him so much. Even when sitting in a large tub filled with ice, he could still look up at Whumper and murmured softly with his shaking lips.

"T-thank you, Master…"

It's been a few days and the torture gradually get worse. But Whumpee didn't mind, he didn't even flinch anymore. He knew it's for the best. All of his life, he used to be bullied by his friends and beaten up by his father. And he learned something from it.

People love it when he gets hurt.

And it makes them happy, so, Whumpee didn't mind being a punch bag if that's what it takes for everyone to love him. He welcomed it even. When he thanked Whumper for putting him in a terrible state, it's like thanking him for loving him.

And Whumper? Whumper was sick of it. He wanted to see some tears, protest or defiance from Whumpee. Not…a lifeless doll. Maybe he should take some drastic measures, after all. 

Whumper whispered to his henchman, watching him nod and walk out of the room. He then turned his attention to Whumpee and frowned,

"Get outta there, boy."

Whumpee obeyed, stepping out of the tub and shivering intensely. Teeth chattering against each other and arms hugging his body tightly. Whumper increased the proximity between them and pulling Whumpee into his embrace gently.

Whumpee pressed himself closer to Whumper, desperately seeking for his warmth. Whumper just stayed still, he made no effort to caress Whumpee's cold body. 

"T-thank you, master…thank you…thank you…"

Sighing in frustration, Whumper pulled away from the hug and grabbed Whumpee's wrist before getting out of the room. They both walked in the dark hallway, went downstairs and finally stood in front of a shining door.

Heat coming from inside the room and Whumpee could feel his skin melting slowly. Whumper pushed open the door, revealing a machine with burning charcoal in it. Henchman was holding a stick, near the entrance as sweat trickled down his body.

It…was a new thing for Whumpee. He never went to this room before and suddenly, he felt something funny in his stomach. 

Could he be…scared? No no no, that couldn't be. He couldn't be scared of Whumper's love. He should embrace it.

Whumper was standing on the other side, wearing a suit to cover himself from the heat just like Henchman did. He just left Whumpee alone, without anything to wear except for the white filthy shirt and short pants that reached just above his knees.

"Get down."

Whumper pushed Whumpee's back with a metal pole and Whumpee winced in pain as his knees made contact with the burning floor. Truly, he felt like being put in a large microwave at the moment. 

His shirt was being pulled up from the back, clipped together with the collar to make sure his spine was wide open to his captor. Whumper crouched down in front of Whumpee, chaining his wrists together with the concrete. 

He leaned in close and whispered to his ear, "I bet you couldn't get enough of thanking me after this. This, would make you truly mine, Whumpee."

"All ready, boss."

Henchman called out from behind and Whumper nodded. Standing up straight again, he walked around Whumpee and left him alone for a moment. 

His hair was being grabbed and pulled back harshly as a hot, burning gag was shoved on his mouth. Whumpee's screams were muffled instantly as Whumper worked on the gag, locking the chain on the back of his head. 

Lips melting, saliva dripping down his chin and Whumpee was left panting against the blistering gag. "Mmh! Mmhh!"

He tugged desperately on the restraints, wanting to be out when another searing pain hit against his back. Holding the branding stick, Whumper pressed it forward on his scapula bones. 

Whumpee's writhing and squirming on the floor. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes, mucus forming inside his nose as his skin was being abused by Whumper. 

A sob coming out of him and Whumper smirked. Finally, he thought. Finally, he broke this poor boy. 

Drowning in contentment, Whumper walked around and stood in front of Whumpee. With a swift motion, he pushed the branding stick to Whumpee's chest, emanating another muffled scream. Whumper chuckled, enjoying the look of despair in the other's eyes. 

Setting the stick to the side, he moved the gag to stay under Whumpee's chin. His lips were swollen red and sensitive to the touch. "Say it." Whumper demanded.

"S–so..rr..ry…" It even hurts to speak. 

Nodding in approval, Whumper took the stick back and this time, pressing it right between Whumpee's legs. Henchman that was watching since just now inhaled sharply at the scene.

"Aaaahhh!!!! Aaah!!!!"

Whumpee's blood-curdling scream filled out the room. He was forced to be in that situation until his voice gave in, only letting out a breathless sound of desperation.

Whumper pulled the stick away from him, putting it on the table before towering over Whumpee once again. He raised an eyebrow and Whumpee immediately caught on it.

"I-I..I'm…s-s…so..rry…"

"Good."

There. That was what Whumper wanted to hear from him after all this time. And he would make sure it stuck under Whumpee's tongue forever for all his life.

~

@nothing-but-glitter-and-lashes @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @failgiao891 @jennyyy007 @heyyitsworld @risk606 @valravnthefrenchie

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Living Weapon Whumpee part 19

Warnings: forced living weapon/fighter, recovery whump, reluctant alliance, rejection by peers, betrayal

Flint opened a door to what looked like an office, pointing inside meaningfully. "Stay in here, I'll be back to deal with you shortly."

Whumpee didn't argue or fight, didn't try to explain the situation as he trudged in and took a seat in an office chair. No amount of explaining would get him out of being in trouble, so it wasn't even worth the breath.

He was left alone for minutes that felt like hours, before Flint finally returned, shutting the door behind himself and coming to sit in a chair opposite of him with a tired sigh.

And Whumpee couldn't help it anymore. Maybe if he showed how incredibly sorry he was he would get a lighter sentence, get to stay where Myra could still visit him and give him small rays of sunshine with her childish art.

Whumpee got out of the chair and started to awkwardly kneel in front of flint. "Sir, I'm so sorry -- I know you're disappointed in me bu--"

"--Get off the floor, Whumpee. I know you didn't start the altercation. I'm not disappointed in you," Flint interrupted. "Honestly I'm rather impressed you didn't snap and seriously injured your opponent. You stayed in control of yourself."

Whumpee stood up, unsure what to do. "But... how do you know the tru--"

"--I spoke with one of my most trusted men on that team, and he advocated for you. Told me what really happened. It seems that some of them are already beginning to respect you, even if they don't show it, if some are willing to stick up for you like that."

Whumpee blinked in surprise. Who could have possibly helped him out? He hadn't made any friends on the team yet as far as he knew. And yet, someone had vouched for him.

He shifted his weight on his feet anxiously. "I still ended up fighting though," he said quietly. "What punishment would you like me to carry out on myself? I could skip a meal, or--"

"Whumpee, stop, it's insulting that you think I'm that petty," Flint laughed out loud. "You're in the clear. I'm not punishing you for something that wasn't your fault. You were simply defending yourself."

Whumpee stared blankly at him, gears turning. Leader would have punished him regardless if a mistake was his fault or not, only make him scream for an hour or two if he was feeling generous.

"I'm going to have a pointed word with Jake, so he shouldn't bother you again," Flint added. His expression was uncharacteristically dark when he said it. "I'll lead you back now, all right? Don't worry about this, you're still learning your way around things."

The relief crashed over Whunpee as Flint took him back to the room where his team was. Jake looked smug as ever, holding an ice pack to his busted lip and glaring sharp steel at him.

"Jake, if you would please come with me next," Flint said, and Jake marched after him with the gait of someone who thought they'd won, shoulder-checking Whumpee on the way out.

Whumpee's head was still hung, hurt that the team would have turned on him so readily despite his effort to be perfectly obedient and unthreatening, and wandered over to a corner away from everyone else to sulk over it.

But after a minute someone approached him, a lithe soldier with blonde hair and blue eyes.

"Hey man, you alright there?" He asked.

Whumpee looked up in confusion. It was the first time any of them had dared come close to him, especially if there was a way to avoid it.

"Not really..." He answered honestly. "I was set up. I thought I was getting better at being trustworthy..."

"You are," the man said sympathetically, surprising Whumpee a second time. "My name's Max, by the way.”

Then it occurred to him. “...Are you the one who told Flint I was innocent?”

Max nodded grimly. “Yeah, I was. It was unfair for Jake to do that – it wasn't right of him. You didn't deserve it. So I did something about it.”

“Thank you,” Whumpee whispered gratefully.

⏪️ Back Next ⏩️

Masterlist

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump

@ay5ksal @otterfrost @sausages-things @i-don't-know-sal @togzy

@whump-till-ya-jump @cravesunconditionallove @whumpwritinglover222 @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl

[whumped-by-glitter]

Whumper tag team smack down 😭😬 poor Khaled, mock executed, isolated, and now this!?!

You're welcome everybody, the shithead lived to see another chapter.

Adjusting Well: A Parallel

<prev

By all accounts we weren't going to even have this chapter, but my beta readers convinced me to make this drabble canon. So, here it is. Everyone say thank you to @whumped-by-glitter and @generic-whumperz for letting Tom live one more chapter and prolonging Khaled's misery

A parallel to Adjusting Well

TW/CW: noncon nudity, multiple whumpers, degradation, emotional manipulation, degrading speech, threat of castration (not followed through), humiliation, noncon oral, self-harming behaviors

“How’s he adjusting?”

Thomas sighed. “Fine, I guess?” He threw a backward glance at a shirtless Khaled from where he sat on the sofa. The slave was engrossed with buffing out the scratches on the granite countertop. “He doesn’t talk much anymore-”

“When did he ever talk much?” Luca shrugged.

“Well, it’s worse now,” Thomas explained. “He just sulks all the time, shambling like a zombie from one room to the next!” He leaned in close to his oldest and most trusted friend. “When I took his cock cage off yesterday, he barely even reacted! Barely remembered to thank me, too,” he grumbled.

“I don’t understand,” Luca said as he furrowed his brow. “This is what you wanted, right? A living fuck doll to keep you warm at night?”

“No, that’s more of what you want, man!” Thomas shook his head, then leaned back onto the couch with a sigh. “I wanted at least a little bit of liveliness, maybe even some enthusiasm, if that wasn’t too much to ask for! I don’t know how to break him out of this slump, or if I even can!” he groaned.

Luca pursed his lips, looked over the side of the couch back at Khaled, and then back at Tom. “Bring him over here, I want to talk to him,” he said.

His friend obviously had an idea, though what exactly this idea was remained to be seen. Thomas craned his head over his shoulder once again to look back at the slave behind them. “Khaled, come here,” he ordered.

The boy looked up from the countertop as his hand holding the cleaning rag stopped buffing. He looked back down at the counter, then sighed, putting the rag down and stepping out from behind the counter. Without the granite and hardwood in the way, it was plain to see Khaled was completely naked. Luca gave an appreciative whistle. Thomas shot him an exasperated look. It was nothing the man hadn’t already seen at this point, but he always leered at Khaled’s nakedness as if it were the first time Tom got the idea to pass him around.

Khaled finally stood before the two men, waiting silently until he was commanded to kneel in the presence of his master.

“So, I heard you’re feeling kind of down,” Luca said as the boy settled onto his knees.

Khaled glanced toward his master, then back at Luca, and nodded somberly.

“Not sure why you’re so upset, though. I mean, really –did you not think your actions would have consequences?” Luca asked rhetorically. Thomas recognized this speech from those few times he’d interacted with Luca and his family before. This was the speech Luca used to use on his sons, with some obvious modifications to fit this specific situation. Never had he ever thought the man would rehash the ‘own up to your mistakes’ monologue onto his slave.

“Here my buddy is, just trying to protect you from your baser instincts –the same instincts that got you infected –and you think you have the right to be upset about it?” He tutted and shook his head in disapproval. “You stupid little slut! You still don’t know how good you have it, do you?” Luca admonished.

Khaled hesitantly shook his head, a flicker of uncertainty crossing those dark, lifeless eyes.

“If you were mine, I never would’ve tolerated this shit! I would’ve had you fixed like the horny little bitch you are the moment I suspected you spreading your legs for someone else!”

Khaled flinched, bringing his hands to his front to shield himself the moment the word ‘fixed’ was uttered. “Khaled,” Thomas warned. The boy nodded his head and reluctantly placed his hands at his sides, exposing himself again.

“You would never have left my sight for even a moment,” Luca continued, “but noooo, Tom felt bad for you and allowed you to ‘make friends’ or some shit! At least it was with Nico, at first –did you screw him to be your friend, too?”

Khaled’s face burned bright red at the invasive question. “What? No, I-”

“Quiet!”

On the other end of the couch, Thomas rolled his eyes. “See, of course now he talks, to defend what little honor he thinks he has left!” he scoffed.

“Honor?” Luca let out a snide laugh. “These slaves don’t have honor!” He leaned back onto the couch and gestured to Khaled as he explained. “No, no, what you think of as honor, I see as favor. Slaves are granted favor at the discretion of their owners, and that favor can be lost just as easily as it can be given. And this one lost favor due to his own actions alone.” He cast a smug look back at Khaled and asked, “So, what do you have to say for yourself?”

“Um, I’m sorry?” Khaled murmured.

“Tom, do you accept that apology?”

The boss shook his head as his lips quirked into a wry smile. “No, I don’t think I do. It didn’t feel…genuine enough.”

“Yeah, come on, Khaled,” Luca jeered. “Let’s try that again! What do you have to say to the man who raised you, who waited for you to become legal all those years before laying his hands on you, who gave you everything?”

Khaled gave a shuddering sigh before lowering his eyes respectfully. “I’m sorry,” he answered, voice full of conviction. He effortlessly folded himself over into a bow, planting his forehead onto the carpet in front of their feet. “Forgive me, Master,” he said loud and clear.

“Forgive you for what?” Thomas asked, fully leaning into this game now.

“Forgive me for sleeping around, for taking you for granted, for-for not loving you like you want me to!” Khaled answered.

“How sorry are you?”

“So sorry!”

“Would you like to show us? Go on, boy, show us how sorry you are!”

This reminded Tom of when he and his friends were younger, when they would bully the freshmen at St. Drogo’s and rob them blind of pocket change. Khaled begged and screamed repeated apologies over and over, bashing his face into the carpet repeatedly each time as Luca goaded him on. “Okay, okay, stop, stop, stop!” Thomas commanded, intervening before Khaled could truly hurt himself. “Goddamn, Luca, you’re gonna give him brain damage!” He softened his tone as he redirected his tone to Khaled. “Get up here, sweetheart.”

Khaled raised his head slowly, sporting a deep red, carpet-patterned imprint on his forehead and tears falling from his inky dark eyes. He crawled on all fours until his body was between his master’s legs, his cheek leaning against his master’s thigh. Thomas stroked his face gently, wiping the tears from his eyes. “Show me how sorry you are,” he ordered softly. His hand left Khaled’s face to tug down the fly of his pants. Without a word, his slave pulled his hardening member out of his pants and popped it into the warm, velvety cavern of his mouth, lightly sucking on it and brushing it along his tongue to stiffen it to full mast.

“See? That’s better,” Thomas cooed.

“You’re welcome, by the way,” Luca chimed in. “He’s out of his slump and onto your cock where he belongs.”

“God, how do you not have one of your own to boss around already?” Thomas asked, completely ignoring Khaled’s efforts to please him.

“Not all of us have $30k to throw away; some of us gotta put our sons through college,” Luca griped.

Thomas rubbed the back of Khaled’s head, brushing the boy’s shaved undercut against the grain as he hummed contemplatively. “Well, I know it’s kind of gross for me to be offering my used sex toy like this, but you’ve always seemed to take an interest in him.” His hand traveled up to the longer hair on top of Khaled’s head, fisting into it as he pulled the boy’s face further into his lap. “What if I left him to you, if something should happen to me?”

Khaled made a small choking sound, which Thomas shushed away as he continued face-fucking him.

Luca smirked. “If it was anyone else’s used sex toy, I would say they were crazy. But him, I like him. He’s still young, and handsome too. And god forbid anything should happen to you, of course-”

“It’s already happened, Estrada shot me-”

“-I would be happy to take him,” Luca said.

Thomas sighed in relief. That was one less thing to worry about if Julio or anyone else ever succeeded in killing him. They shook on it, with Tom promising to contact his executor on the next business day as he came down his slave’s throat.

Le Tag List: @kabie-whump @rainydaywhump @whumped-by-glitter @skittles-the-whumpee @generic-whumperz @bamber344 @there-will-always-be-blood @morning-star-whump @a-la-whump @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @defire

[countryhumans-whump]

Punching

Whumpee: England

Whumper: Scotland

TW: Female-on-male domestic violence, biting, violent emotional abuse, plus-sized whumpee

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

For a petite-seeming woman, Scotland packed a punch.

England groaned, throwing his head back in pain as Scotland aggressively punched his plump stomach, straddling on his lap. She punched him multiple times, using the same force at a quick pace. His legs convulsed at the sudden pain, and he could barely breathe. She stopped punching for a few moments, brushing her knuckles which itched slightly, before slamming into his stomach even harder, earning a low, pained groan from him.

“Stupid fuckin’ piece of shit,” she growled, her words coming out with every aggressive punch, her fists pounding on his stomach far too powerfully. “Not even fighting back, little fuckin’ coward…” England couldn’t really fight back, not only due to the fact that his hands were tied behind him, but he knew she had the power to ruin his life if he did. England groaned in pain as she punched him a few more times, before stopping to catch her breath. His gut burned and throbbed in agony, and it was a little difficult for him to breathe.

“Fuck… stop it, please,” England gasped, trying to sit upright a little, though was harshly pushed back against the sofa, before being punched again. The pain became even sharper, causing his eyes to widen.

“Don’t get up until I fucking tell you!” Scotland yelled. She grabbed onto his neck, squeezing it tightly as she pressed her thumb against the bulge on his throat, causing him to lose his breathing. England looked down at her fist, his eyes widening as he realised he couldn’t breathe at all, before she let go.

She straddled down in between his legs, before lifting up his beige sweater. His stomach would have been mostly white with a red stripe in the middle, though it was mostly purpled with bruises. She grinned, brushing her fingers along the bruises. “I’ve hurt you badly, haven’t I?”

“I’m sorry, okay? Just stop it,” England weakly begged. Ignoring his pleas, Scotland pressed her teeth on his plump stomach near her belly button, her teeth light at first as she playfully ran her tongue on his skin, before clenching her teeth as hard as she could. England screamed at the searing pain, his legs writing and convulsing as she clenched her teeth into him, until she could taste some of his blood. She somehow bit even harder, taking pleasure in his yells, before letting go. There was a deep, red scar, shaped with her teeth. Scotland could hear England sniffling and whimpering quietly, so she got up, straddling his lap again.

“Stop crying, you little baby,” Scotland muttered, grasping his face and putting hers close to his. “You’re a fucking coward of a man, you know that?” England looked down, a tear beginning to stream down his eye. “Stop crying!” She brought her fist down onto his eye, causing him to inhale sharply at the sudden, searing pain. The eye that she punched shut over against his will as it began to redden quickly, a small bruise forming around it.

“Aww, you look cute now~” Scotland cooed, stroking the red bruise on his eye. She kissed him on his lips, before jumping off him and smugly walking out of the room, leaving him tied up. He could feel the blood of his bite softly pouring down his skin, the burning pain still there.