#usurper whumper

[chaotic-orphan]

Semantics

“It’s quite simple really,” the usurper says, his face impassive but his eyes burning with a malicious promise of pain as he twirls his dagger between his fingers. “Bend the knee, or die.”

The nobles were corralled like beasts, and now cowered before Usurper on his blood stained throne. One of the oldest nobles, Sir Mourden something or other steps forward, well, more like hobbles forward, his beak nose high in the air.

“We do not bend to bas—” in one swift motion Sir Mourden’s head is severed from his body. His body gasps and stutters forward still, as if it didn’t know its head was missing yet, and crumbles to the ground on the steps of the throne. Screams ring out through the hall as Usurper grins, and catches the head of Sir Mourden that Black Knight threw at him.

“Old fart,” Usurper muttered fondly. He fists a clump of the old man’s hair and lifts his head so the other nobles can see. He either didn’t care or didn’t notice the blood and guts spilling onto his armour, but in any case he smiles and reaches to grab the old man’s chin like a puppet. “Bend the knee or die,” he says again, in a pompous, dry voice like Sir Mourden’s.

Gasps of disgust and rude, albeit true, insults fly his way, but one by one the nobles bend their knee, the ones in front first and working in lines all the way back. Regular as clockwork.

Usurper tosses the head away, ready to stand and say his piece when he notices the one noble that remains standing. His clever, cruel eyes narrow, but a small wicked smile graces his lips as he realises it’s a girl.

“You wish to die?” He asks her, his voice booming through the room. A wave of startled gasps ripple through the crowd, all turning to see the fool that refused to bend their knee.

A man beside the girl yanks at her dress, and tries to get her to submit with the rest of them, but the girl rips her sleeve out of his grip, head held high. She never drops eye contact with Usurper.

Usurper beckons her forward. “Bring her to me.”

“No, wait,” the man beside her begs as soldiers descend through the crowd. “Please! She’s just a girl, your highness, please!”

“Silence, subjects, you will all witness what happens to those who disobey your king.”

The soldiers hand the girl to Black Knight who tosses her in front of the steps to Usurper’s throne. She almost falls, but catches herself and remains standing. Her glare defiant.

“My, my,” Usurper purrs, descending the steps towards the girl. He takes slow deliberate steps, as if he were born a pompous nobleman’s son and walked with the same swagger they did. He kicks Sir Mourden’s body away from the steps, the tiles slick with blood as the body slides. “That look in your eyes could kill if you’re not more careful with it, love.”

“That is the intention.”

Usurper laughs. His hand snaps out and grabs her chin between his gloved fingers, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. Nothing. Not a flinch, or a flicker of doubt. This girl had nerves of steel.

“You dare threaten your King? You realise that is treason, right?”

Her lips curl back. “Tell that to the last one.”

Usurper smirks. There was something off about her, something inherently wrong with her. He just couldn’t quite put his finger on what. Usually, Usurper was a master at reading people, it was why this coup was so simple, but he didn’t know how to read this one, simple girl?

“You wish to die?”

“That was the ultimatum, right?” She hisses, grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand from her chin. “Bend the knee or die. I’d rather die than live amongst traitors, and bend a knee to a foreign Usurper.”

A hush falls over the crowd. Usurper’s eyes flash to Black Knight who has one hand on their great sword just waiting for Usurper to give the word.

“Alright,” he says and steps away. He motions Black Knight forward, and just before they swing their sword, Usurper hooks his foot around the girl’s ankle and she falls just in time for the sword to glide over where her throat should be.

Wide terrified eyes meet Usurper’s grinning ones as the girl tries to push herself up on the blood soaked floor. Her hand slips in the old man’s blood and she falls back with a gasp, adrenaline coursing through her body and leaving her trembling before him.

Usurper dropped to a crouch beside her, tilting his head as he spoke. “You are hereby sentenced to death. Not yet, though. I want to have some fun with you before.”

The girl’s eyes widened impossibly wider. “But— but you said—”

“Kneel or die. I didn’t specify when you’d die.” Before the girl can reply, Usurper stands. “Guards. Take her to the dungeons.”

“No! Wait,” the girl cries as arms encircle hers and yank her to her feet. Black Knight shackles iron cuffs around her wrists and gives the chain to her escorts as they lead her out of the throne room screaming. “KILL ME!” She screams. “KILL ME! Let me go!”

The heavy doors shut and muffle her cries for help. Usurper grins at his new subjects. “A bit of fun is always necessary when governing a kingdom,” he says as he stands, spreading his blood stained hands. “Now where was I before we were rudely interrupted?”

*~*~*~*~*

Continued here

[black-rose-events]

Villaintine's Day 2024: Evil Schemes Masterlist

(Total: 25)

Evil Scheme 01

Sidekick is the mastermind who’s been foiling Hero/Villain’s attempts, not Villain/Hero

Evil Scheme 02

Investigative Reporter is close to unraveling the plot of the century and Detective isn’t ready for their cover to be blown (either corrupt or secretly Hero/Villain!Detective)

Evil Scheme 03

Detective who has to investigate a string of crimes and ends up discovering more about Villain than they ever thought they would (could be an identity reveal or a bigger plot or a “the Villain is actually the good guy and X is actually the antagonist)

Evil Scheme 04

Wants-to-do-Good Mayor x Jaded!Hero who just wants to go home (bonus points if you pit Jaded!Hero x Committed-to-Evil!Villain against each other too)

Evil Scheme 05

Corrupt!Mayor x Usurping!Villain (villain could be good, villain could be evil and just want power for themselves, it’s up to you!)

Evil Scheme 06

Hero/Villain who barely escapes/defeats Hero/Villain and knows it’s hopeless in the long run but keeps trying - lose the battle, win the war type thing

Evil Scheme 07

Responses to “I love you”:

“Oh, you poor, poor thing.” *laughs hysterically.*

“…What?”

“Oh you lovesick kitten, you fell in love with the wrong person.”

*Laughs hysterically.* “Hilarious, impeccable timing.”

“I hadn’t pegged you for the type to fall in love. I was thinking of angles, researching, trying to figure your actions out. But we both lost. You fell in love and I didn’t even think of that being your reason.”

“I don’t understand.” // “Of course you don’t. Your brain’s all drowned in red roses right now.”

“Yes, yes, we get the joke.” // “No, I’m not joking.” // “Well then, you’re an idiot. Or mistaken. Or under a spell.” // “No, I’m not!” // “Yes, you are.” // “If I was, then I wouldn’t still be here arguing after you laughed in my face and just called me an idiot.” // “Exactly, if you weren’t, then I wouldn’t have called you an idiot. You’re not in love with me, you just think you are.” // “Excuse me?” // “You heard me, you’re mistaken, darling.”

“Hehe, thanks. Soo, anyway—” // “Wait, what’s your reply?” // “Huh?” // “I said I love you” // “Oh, yeah, I said thank you. Thanks. Have a good day.” *Turns to leave*

“Aww, sweetheart, no.”

“Aww, sweetheart…no.”

“Aww, sweetheart. No.”

“Cool. Be cooler if someone loved you too.”

“If only there was someone out there who loved you.”

“Aww, I love me too.” *Goes about their day.*

“No, you don’t.” // “What, of course I do.”

“Um. No. You don’t. You’re in love with the idea of me. Pretty normal, don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll find someone. Good luck.”

[Bonus] “No, but I really do.”

[Bonus] *Tears in their eyes* “But…”

Evil Scheme 08

Responses to “I’d die for you”:

“Then perish.”

“Then perish.” They said it with steely blank eyes. No emotion on their face.

“Then die."

"Then die.” And they punched them in the face and walked over their body.

“Then go ahead,” they said, waving their hand dismissively, “You have my permission.”

"…Cool.“ They gave a big smile and walked away.

"You will.” and pushed them off.

Evil Scheme 09

Civilian!Kid keeps showing up to Hero’s and Villain’s fights, heckling Hero/Villain and ends up becoming a thorn in both their sides

Evil Scheme 10

Retired Hero x Retired Villain but the grudge is still going strong…just in retirement so it’s over things like shuffleboard or the local baking competition or something

Evil Scheme 11

Investigative Reporter keeps getting in the way of Detective’s investigation (for a romantic twist: and keeps putting themself in danger)

Evil Scheme 12

Hero and Villain know each others’ identities and try to inconvenience each other as civilians as much as possible

Evil Scheme 13

Klutzy!Villain x Unlucky!Hero

Evil Scheme 14

Mad Scientist x Magic!Hero/Villain

Evil Scheme 15

Mad Scientist x Mad Magician

Evil Scheme 16

Mysterious!Villain x Hero Who Can See Emotions

Evil Scheme 17

Abstract: Hate potions

Scheme Ideas:

Maybe Whumper (Villian/Hero/Civilian/Mayor/Sidekick/Henchman/etc) gives Caretaker a hate potion so they don’t like whumpee anymore. Maybe Whumper gives a hate potion to whumpee. Or (!) Caretaker mistakenly drinks a hate potion and becomes a whumper👀 There are options😈

Evil Scheme 18

Gentle Supervillain x Investigative Reporter

Evil Scheme 19

Sassy!Villain x Adorable!Henchperson

Evil Scheme 20

By-the-Book Detective x Chaotic!Hero

Evil Scheme 21

Vigilante x Pesky!Reporter

Evil Scheme 22

Chosen-One-Hero-Turned-Villain x the powers that chose them

Evil Scheme 23

Evil Scheme 24

Hero knows Villain’s identity. Villain doesn’t know Hero knows.

or

Villain knows Hero’s identity. Hero doesn’t know Villain knows.

Hero’s and Villain’s civilian personas are lovers…but Hero and Villain are nemeses

Evil Scheme 25

Injured hero/villain/sidekick/henchman shows up on Civilian's doorstep...but their whumper isn't far behind them.

-------------------

(Please see the rules and guidelines for more about whump do’s and don'ts for our event😊)

Villaintine’s Day 2024 Ways to Participate

[shes-some-other-where]

My Whump Stories

🍎 Rain and Apple Blossoms

written for The Merry Whump of May 2024

prison whump, forced labour, on the run, stranger caretaker, very angsty, no/low romance

drabbles - exactly 100 words

👑 The Cursebreaker and the Crown

written for June of Doom 2024

royal whump, usurped throne, captivity whump, magic, intimate whumper, siblings, lady whump, dudewhump, inspired by fairy tales

please heed the warnings

chapters under 1000 words (*mostly)

[clickerflight]

Clove: Part 25 - The Procession

The story keeps getting away from me. Someone help :( (I do have a plan and this story will come to an end. This Arc just came out of nowhere and surprised me. I swear everyone gets a happy ending!)

Masterlist - Part 24

Content: Vampire whumpee, fae whumpers, intimate whumpers, creeeeeeepy whumpers, insinuations of dub con, bruises, choking, fae politics, dehumanization

..................................................

There seemed to be no end to the strange outfits Benny could suggest to Ephraim. Ephraim wanted to keep it simple since they would be walking for a long ways into the distance to get to Jokel’s body, but Benny insisted he would need to wear something nicer since the fae left behind would be preparing a banquet and they would need to attend that as soon as they got back. 

So, Ephraim got dressed in darker colors than he would normally wear, deep greens that Benny said made his hair and eyes show more, but Ephraim just felt out of place. He decided he would accept a cape this time, if only to help hide how absurdly low the collar dipped in the back and only wore the bare minimum when it came to jewelry. 

Now, he walked at the back of the procession, just ahead of the real place of honor. The floating carriage that the Monarch rode in silent behind him. 

He and Benny had been placed with the Monarch’s consorts, who were all making a racket as they tried to out titter and tsk each other. 

“What are they doing?” Ephraim finally whispered to Benny when he couldn’t take it any longer. 

“The procession is where you find out what status you hold with the Monarch,” Benny replied quietly. “That means that everyone is lined up very near their rivals who they’ve been trying to best for years. They’re trying to show that they won’t back down this time and are trying to scare others into holding their position instead of trying to move up in the ranks. It’s pretty well known that if you hold, you will lose your position as someone overtakes you.”

Ephraim frowned. “This isn’t about Jokel’s death then, is it.”

Benny shook his head. “No. Almost all events are an excuse for fae to try and rise in the ranks or at least push their rivals farther down.”

Ephraim wrinkled his nose, looking back at the fae. The loudest ones were in the middle, while the ones closer to the two vampires, and thus in higher positions, were more serene. Serene might not be the word for it. They seemed to be vindictively enjoying the way the other fae were on the verge of fighting each other. 

The particularly loud ones were three fae, two females and Kortops, all vying for positions and trying to trick the others into switching with them in the middle. Sometimes, they would become distracted as some of the lesser consorts made a noise or did something to attract their attention, and then the three would descend on them instead of each other. 

“Ha! Look, Orphea,” Kortops called. “I think Liam here will be taking your place shortly.”

Liam, a fae with fins and gills delicately arranged around his face, ducked his head. “Oh no, Orphea. I’ve still got a ways to go before I’m a threat to you. I-”

Kortops grinned sharply at Liam’s discomfort and the offense on his rival's face when he had suggested she would be usurped. “That’s not what you were saying at breakfast. Didn’t I hear you making plans with Yvonne here that you would help her rise above me if you could take Orphea’s place?”

Liam’s face burned as Yvonne scoffed. “You’re terrible, Kortops,” she proclaimed. “You know I was just leading him on.”

That only seemed to increase Liam’s shame, and just as Ephraim was starting to feel a little too bad for the fae, his darting eyes landed not on him, but on Benny. 

“I don’t know why you are bothering me. If you wanted to get closer with the queen, why don’t you speak with her pet husband?”

The consorts, including the previously quiet ones, all turned their sharp eyes on Benny. 

“Now we’re in for it,” Benny commented to Ephraim, though there was an easy smile on his face, carefully practiced to show his double set of fangs. 

“Now, now, Liam. You know that if Kortops wants to get to Benny, he’d have to get past us,” one of the fae said sweetly. Ephraim couldn’t tell exactly what gender the two closest were, though it looked like the two of them were twins with golden colored feathered wings and beautiful human looking teeth, their eyes covered with blindfolds that he assumed did not hinder them in the slightest. If he didn’t know any better and had seen them out of context, Ephraim would have assumed they were angels. 

They slowed their walk, coming to stand on either side of Benny, separating him from Ephraim as Ephraim backed off a little. He definitely did not want to be touched by fae right now. 

Benny didn’t seem to have such qualms, allowing the one with a lighter tint to their feathers to cup his face, running a thumb over his cheek. Ephraim saw Benny’s eyes glaze over and the other angel-like fae pressed into Benny’s side, and arm around to support him and help his slowing steps to keep up, running a hand over his chest and opening his shirt further. 

Ephraim growled low in his throat, but there was nothing he could really do. He tried to recite the rules of being a Guest in his mind as the lighter of the two looked back at Kortops. “Well? Would you like to try, dear? How about you, Yvonne?”

Yvonne cleared her throat nervously. “Oh, no Polyps. I do not wish to presume,” but there was a hunger in her eyes. Ephraim could see that Kortops was considering it, but they were all surprised as Liam stepped forward to the challenge. 

“Oh, brave,” Polyps’s sibling said, tilting their head. 

“Polyps, Illesis? May I approach?” Liam asked, shooting a smug look at the other three consorts who were slack jawed with shock. 

“If you dare, little one,” Polyps said with a brilliant smile. 

“I like him,” Illesis commented as Liam did so, hesitating slightly like he didn’t quite know what to do. He took Benny’s hand, Benny slowly focusing on Liam. 

Liam grinned, all sharp teeth before quickly biting Benny’s arm.

Benny yelped and it was like the other fae smelled blood in the water as the consorts swarmed Benny, reaching and grabbing as Ephraim cried out. 

He grabbed fae and threw them back and to the ground, scratching at others with his fingers, and punching some right in the face, but being very careful not to bite them. He’d learned his lesson last time. 

He grabbed Liam by the front of his frilled shirt and headbutted him so hard that Liam’s sensitive gills and frills broke in places, bleeding profusely as he fell back on his butt gasping in pain. 

Ephraim didn’t hesitate when he got to Polyps and Illesis, shoving them off of Benny and slugging one of them in the throat when he saw the grip they had on Benny’s. 

He caught Benny before he could fall, tucking his fledgling under his arm and baring his fangs at the fae who all seemed gobsmacked at the beat down they’d all just taken. It had been a long time since Ephraim had fought regularly, but the adrenaline was familiar in his blood and his hands ached almost comfortingly. That was all he could remember of the wars and gladiator rings he’d taken part of in a long distant part of his life before he had his garden and cottage in Quiet Brook. 

He felt something bump into his back that stopped as soon as it had, and looked back to realize the Monarch’s carriage had come to a stop because he was standing in the way. 

There was a sudden hush and injured consorts tried their best to stand up and wipe blood off their faces as the door opened. 

The monarch stepped out, dressed in something that looked like she had turned a white waterlily upside down and put it on. 

She looked over the group, her pupil-less eyes landing finally on Ephraim. Before the vampire could say a word, Polyps spoke up. “Your highness, he has broken the rules of the Guest. Please let me have him!”

Ephraim felt a shiver run down his spine. He absolutely could not end up with one of these fae consorts. 

“Your Highness,” Ephraim said, making sure that Benny was on his way back to the world of the living before letting him go to lean against the carriage so Ephraim could get down on one knee. The fae were dramatic right? The Monarch liked dramatics? He could be dramatic. “If I may, I would like to speak.”

The Monarch was suitably amused and said, “Very well. Speak your piece, father-in-law.”

“I was afraid they would hurt your husband, my Monarch,” Ephraim said, deciding to lay it on thick. She seemed like she liked it over the top. “Fae wounds do not heal quickly unlike other wounds we as vampires can receive. I did not want him too damaged to serve you.”

Ephraim felt like gagging on the words, but tried not to let that stop him. He tried to imagine something like a chair instead. Anything but Benny so he could say the words. 

The Monarch brushed past him to get to Benny, who’s pained eyes faded back to dull adoration as she ran sharp fingers through his hair. “That is true. I would very much like him to serve me tonight. Thank you, father-in-law. You may stand.”

Ephraim did so, shaking a little at the insinuation, but while it seemed he just needed to be more entertaining than the consorts to get away with things, he couldn’t go directly against the queen unless he wanted to be in the same position. He had a pup to think about, after all. Oh, he could not wait to get back and hold Hyrum close and make sure he was safe. Ephraim only hoped that he wouldn’t cry too openly. He didn’t want to scare Hyrum.

“My husband will join me in my carriage,” she announced with a smile. “Dear father-in-law, why don’t you go to the front of the procession and lead them, mm? I want to be sure that it was the sorcerer that killed Jokel and not something else like a loose troll or harpy. I trust you to be sure.”

Ephraim nodded, eyes lingering on Benny’s forming bruises and small gashes. “I can do that, your majesty.”

“Good,” she said warmly, and Ephraim forced himself to turn, skirting around the consorts who were scowling at him. All except for one. Kortops was watching him without any injury and with some interest. Kortops hadn’t been one of the ones to rush forward to harm Benjamin, now that Ephraim thought about it. Why was that? Was he trying to get in Ephraim’s good books? 

Kortops simply nodded, a knowing smile on his face. 

Well, if Kortops was planning on using Ephraim’s connection to the Monarch as Benny’s sire and as the Monarch’s guest to rise in the ranks, that was something Ephraim could use in turn to get out of here a bit quicker. He would need allies in the court if he wanted to get Benny out of this place. 

And Ephraim knew for a fact that he couldn’t leave Benny here. 

Still thinking hard, Ephraim jogged up the procession line to be the first to reach the body, planning how his next meeting with the Monarch should go to garner more favor to stay ahead of the now furious consorts. 

Part 26

Clove Taglist: @wolfeyedwitch @the-blind-one-speaks @whumpsday @extrabitterbrain @inkkswhumpandstuff 

@honeycollectswhump @whump-blog-reblogs @pigeonwhumps @mj-or-say10 @percy-frayer 

@currentlyinthesprial @scoundrelwithboba @whumps-and-bumps @hellodecisionparalysis

[zanazirafanfic]

For the character ask game! ☺️

Charles: 7, 14

Arthur: 9, 14

Micah: 20, 22

Oooh, thank you! Some tough ones here.

Charles: 7. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like?

I think most of the fandom respects the hell out of Charles as a person, which I love. He's a truly good guy - not perfect, because no one is, and he's done bad things and lived a hard life just like everyone else in the gang (more so, in a lot of ways, given his heritage and the time period.) And yet he chooses kindness more often than not, which is almost never the easier choice, and helps remind some of the people around him (*cough* Arthur *cough*) to consider that more often. It's good to see that recognized by the fans. 14. Assign a fashion aesthetic to this character.

I feel like Modern Charles would wear woodsy/hiking gear when he's outdoors, sweats and noise-canceling headphones when he's inside chilling. Arthur: 9. Could you be roommates with this character?

Oh, definitely. 100%. 14. Assign a fashion aesthetic to this character.

I feel like Arthur's a cowboy no matter what era he's in. Modern era wouldn't necessarily have so much gear on as the 1899 version, but he'd be in boots and jeans and a cowboy hat, ready to get on his favorite horse and ride off into the sunset. Micah: 20. Which other character is the ideal best friend for this character, the amount of screentime they share doesn't matter?

Oh, tough one! I feel like so few would be able to put up with him for long enough to be called a best friend. Honestly, maybe Arthur? I feel like he could be a good influence on Micah over time, and honestly I felt like they were going to eventually be somewhat antagonistic friends in-game before everything went to shit. I think if Dutch wasn't in the picture (or Micah at least wasn't jealous of Arthur and trying to usurp his position in the gang structure) they could've gotten along. 22. If you're a fic reader, what's something you like in fics when it comes to this character? Something you don't like?

I'm a whumper by nature, so I always like seeing him knocked down a few pegs and forced to face the more vulnerable parts of himself he pretends not to have.

By the same token, though, I don't like it when he gets softened up too much - Micah can be made into a better person over time (anyone can, and I like seeing it happen for him) but I don't like it when all his rough edges get removed. He's not really Micah unless he's a sour, snarky sonofabitch.

[befuddled-calico-whump]

If your whumpers and whumpee's switched places (for example Mel tortures Mercury and Sahota grooms Vic) What would change?

(assuming they swap roles and take on a more villainous stance but keep the same basic personality)

Melchior would have to be a more extreme "well-intentioned extremist", knowing he can do what the Riot Kings can't and usurp the Fleet's control if he stops holding back. In this case, he'd take Mercury prisoner to get her out of the way as the RK's leader, but wouldn't actively torment her. Just kinda... keep her locked up. At worst, he'd look the other way while his men hurt her.

Lex as a CEO would take a more intimidating and cutthroat approach to staying on top. Uriah as an assassin (how would he even survive 😭) would probably be a lot more sneaky and relying on false pretenses. Instead of constant threats and emotional manipulation, Lex would be pretty physical. Expect lots of manhandling and immediate punches/backhands in response to defiance.

James and Peter are already a reversal but James would make Peter a prisoner for attempted mutiny. Keep him shut up in the brig and have him flogged in front of the crew to dissuade any future mutineers and maintain order.

If Vic agreed to be Sahota's apprentice (as in canon with his mentor), he'd be pretty good about following orders, only needing occasional correction. (Sahota would probably favor stress positions or sleep deprivation. Mostly hands-off stuff.) If, like Sahota, Vic was there unwillingly, it would take a lot more work to get him to obey.

[astaldis]

Whumpers-Monthly Issue no 28 - Falling

Who'll save you when you fall? - Chapter 1: Falling

@whumpers-monthly

Fandom: The Witcher (TV)

Whumpee: Young Cahir

Caretaker: Emhyr var Emreis

Published: 2023-10-17; Completed: 2023-10-26; Words: 6,626; Chapters: 3/3

"Any last words?" he asks for the fifth time.

"Death to the Usurper!" the boy shouts loud and clear and with utmost loathing, his voice cracking slightly. Then he spits the executioner in the face. Emhyr raises an eyebrow in approval. That kid has spirit! A pity that he is going to die shortly.

"You'll pay for that," the hangman growls under his breath, wiping the spittle off his dark red, almost purple face. "I'll make sure you dance for us, gutter scum!"

Hmm, it might not be the smartest move to anger your executioner right before you are hanged, Emhyr suspects, the contrary. Still, he appreciates bravery when he sees it. A lot. What a waste. He sighs, awaiting the inevitable.

The livid executioner grabs the rope and pulls at it to place the noose around the boy's scrawny neck. However, it does not work. The boy is too short. Or the rope is. Or both. Furious, he goes even darker in the face, looking close to exploding any moment. It is almost funny. Some people in the crowd point and laugh at the man. The boy has clearly won some sympathy among the spectators. It will not save his neck, but it makes for a good tale. And that is what people want. Finally, a soldier fetches a wooden crate for him to climb on. Although he has gone even paler than before, he steps onto the box without hesitation, head held high. The executioner lays the noose around the boy's neck and moves toward the lever that activates the mechanism for the drop.

"I want that boy," Emhyr suddenly whispers to the hooded man standing next to him. A spur of the moment, a rash decision, probably more than stupid, but he has to try.

"What about the count?" his follower asks doubtfully. Still, he reaches for the arbalest hidden beneath his cloak.

"Change of plans. We'll do without him. Quick now, and don't miss!"

While the crossbowman takes aim, Emhyr blows into his horn. The signal for the horsemen. It has begun. Only, the arbalester does not release the missile. It is too late. The hangman has already pulled the lever. Together with the box, the boy falls.

The crowd gasps as the rope straightens with a jerk.

[whump-cravings]

Usurper AU - No Escape

TR3 Masterlist

~760 words | Original work: TR3 AU. Weeks after Price & Monster. Changed the name from “Vile AU” to “Usurper AU“ for Ironda x Ironda violence instead of Ironda x Invaders

Content: caretaking from whumper, depression, disordered eating, brief suicide mention, drugging

"Let me be very clear," Peraja said, pouring amber liquor into a small tumbler. "If you kill yourself, I’ll ensure your brother pays for it.”

Hakon crumpled in place, shoulders and head bowed as hot tears and hope slipped from him. Of course the one escape left to him would be cut off. Of course. He was just so tired.

Peraja noticed his posture change, looking at him. "Oh," the king sighed, clicking his tongue. "You poor thing." He capped the crystal decanter, lifting his glass as he returned to his seat. He reached for Hakon, but instead of grabbing, he gently guided Hakon's head onto his lap. "You're under so much pressure, aren't you?"

The kindness, no matter how insincere, was enough to push Hakon into full-on weeping. No one had truly touched him in weeks. Clutching at Peraja like a lifeline, he turned his face into the man's leg, all his dammed-up misery breaking free.

Fingers carded through his hair, filling his body with a warm sensation at every pass. "I know," Peraja murmured. "I know. You don't have to hold it all on your own."

Traitorous relief washed over him, overshadowing the shame of taking comfort from his enemy. Violent sobs wracked Hakon's body as he thought of everything he had been holding onto. The loss of Mother and Father, worrying over Rohisa's well-being, Baltar's pain and his complicity in it, trying to keep people safe, his self-disgust and loathing, how agony filled his every waking moment and many of his sleeping ones too.

Peraja stroked Hakon's head through all of it. And eventually, a long while later, he was left quietly sniffling, the occasional tremor running through him. Exhaustion weighed down every part of him. He ought to have sit up onto his heels, but he didn't want to lose the physical contact. How pathetic he'd become.

The sofa creaked as Peraja leaned over the arm. When he returned to center, he touched something to Hakon's lips. Hakon tensed but accepted the berry. Another wave of tears sprung to his tired eyes as the king continued to prompt him to eat, his stomach already roiling.

It was only a few pieces later that the inevitable happened, and Hakon dragged himself upright as his body began to reject the food. An empty glass appeared in his field of vision and he took it, containing the mess. He grimaced at the burning sensation in his throat, which seemed to get more intense and longer each time.

"Hm." Peraja stood, squeezing Hakon's shoulder before walking across the room to a drawer at the writing desk. Hakon wiped errant tears away from his eyes, raising his head to find Peraja returning with another cup and something held loosely in his other hand. He gave Hakon the cup first, which was just water. He gratefully swished his mouth clean, then managed to swallow a mouthful.

The king then deposited a small disc into Hakon's hand, made of what looked like compressed powder and herbs, and a little honey ball. Some kind of drug, and a sweet to wash the taste away?

"Let's see if that helps," Peraja said as he took a seat again. Hakon looked at him in question, hesitating only a moment more when the king raised his brow.

The drug was indeed bitter and started to fall apart before Hakon could wash it down. He shuddered, slipping the honey candy onto his tongue.

Peraja surprised him by once again guiding his head down onto his lap, and he relaxed into the touch again. He saw the king pick up a book from the corner of his eye, and begin to read while stroking Hakon's head.

Exhausted from the crying and lulled by the king's sedate energy, Hakon easily slipped into a light doze. So it felt only moments later that Peraja had set the book down and once again presented him with food.

Hakon blinked, slowly, registering the touch on his lips. All his limbs were warm and heavy, and the anxiety over food was a foggy memory. He accepted the offering, rolling the berry around his mouth and savoring its tartness. A deep sigh left him.

"That's it," Peraja murmured while continuing to feed him. "Good boy."

Soon, Hakon's response time became slower and slower as he began to nod off. Peraja slid out from beneath Hakon's head, which he only vaguely registered, along with whatever the king did afterward, moving about the room. A comforting weight draped around his shoulders, and he was out.

taglist: @emcscared-whumps @nabanna @dont-touch-my-soup @highprofilerichkid

[hittingthebrainsfunnybone]

Whumpee finally overcomes whumper, usurps their position, and inherits their title. They thought it would be the perfect revenge, and they were half right. Whumpee managed to take down whumper in the way that would crush their pride the very most. But for whumpee...? Now they're still surrounded by whumper's old allies, old victims, achievements and failures, mundane habits and preferences. It's all overwhelming, and maybe even sickening, not to mention that whumper didn't exactly have an easy job. Every time someone calls for them by whumper's old title it sends a shot of adrenaline through their system, but it wouldn't be good to show that weakness. Reminders of whumper are everywhere and revenge wasn't all it was chocked up to be. Whumpee would give anything to bail out now, but who could they trust with this much power? They're doing a job too important to neglect. If they don't carry this burden, they're certain someone else just like whumper will take over again and whumpee will never let that happen.

[whumpwillow]

Do you know any other whumpy manhwa? Started reading FL's Older Brother and I like it a lot!

oh wow I actually got someone else to read the manhwa! That's cool.

One I like that has a good torture scene (though I think it's in chapter 52 or something) is "I gave birth to the tyrant's child" where the ML (the tyrant) has a tragic backstory where he was imprisoned, tortured, brainwashed into being an assassin, broke out of the brainwashing, killed his abusers, escaped, and usurped the throne. This is all backstory tho, the actual torture scene is with him as the whumper which is interesting and I did not mind.

notable mentions (in a completely different genre tho) are "Trash of the Count's Family" and "Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint" where the ML's of both are just like "I don't care about anybody" and then proceed to sacrifice themselves for others at every possible opportunity

[just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi]

👾🥊?

👾 - author’s choice, so Royal Whumpee! 🥊- beaten

Whumpee could barely keep his eyes open, crumpled to the floor. Well, eye if his was being honest. The other was so swollen, he couldn’t open it at all. That along with the split lip and bruises that littered his jaw. He didn’t dare look down to the rest of his body, but he knew it was worse. Whumpee could tell, from the way the marks throbbed and ached.

Whumper had been so angry lately. Whumpee knew that he was only there to be a stress reliever, a punching bag, but was he not allowed a little hope? Any rest, a single day without new bruises or marks?

The door to the small room he was kept in creaked as if it were to open, and he whimpered pitifully. No, no there would be no rest for him. Of course not, not with these bloodthirsty monsters in charge.

“Oh, the little prince is awake? Good, Whumper wants to see you.” The guards were rough as they pulled him to his feet and out of the room. The only grace they would give him was that they never expected him to walk on his own. They dragged him along, feet trailing on the floor. He could barely keep his head up, but didn’t really feel he had a reason to. It was all the same, every day. Whumper would get angry, or frustrated or bored or whatever emotion, and call for Whumpee to be brought. To be a stress reliever. And then put back in the dark.

The guards opened the door to the throne room and pulled him inside. He stood for a moment, when they pulled away, but it was a tenuous stance. The slightest breeze would knock him over.

The usurper strode over, and Whumpee squeezed his eyes shut. He just wanted to focus on standing for a moment, to regain the barest dignity of standing. His breathing was rough and ragged, one hand limp at his side and the other holding his ribs, but he was standing.

Whumper usually said something. Gloated, or teased. Mocked his bloodline or people or throne he was only distantly even in line for, but not today. As soon as they were within range, they swung. As expected, the blow to the jaw knocked him down, crumpling to the floor. Whumper was most definitely enraged, wordlessly kicking Whumpee’s ribs and back. Whumpee was too weak to fight, too weak to run or even move away from the barrage. Instead, he just lay there, trying to protect himself the best he could.

After a few moments, the blows stopped and Whumpee tried to take a deep breath. He succeeded, but instead of exhaling, ragged, bloody coughs took over. He winced at the taste in his mouth, and the sharp pains the motion drove through his lungs.

Whumper had stepped away, and Whumpee’s heart lifted. Was that it? Would the punishment for his horrid crime of being an heir be cut short today?

Whumper grabbed a baton from one of their guards, snapping it out to full length before they strode back. Whumpee curled his head into his chest and braced the best he could for the next round of blows. No, of course not.

[awfulwhumpsideblog]

Some royal whump things i like:

-royal whumpee, and their whumper taunts them by saying they're not so powerful anymore

-royal whumper who uses their power and influence to abuse people right under everyone's noses, while keeping up the façade of a good person

-Whumpee is the illegitimate child of royalty and they have a bit of an existential crisis about it. Maybe they have to keep their heritage a secret.

-Whumper is the king/queen, whumpee is a civilian, and caretaker is a prince/princess who saves whumpee from their parent.

-royal siblings who try and usurp the throne from each other

-forbidden romance between two royals of enemy kingdoms. Maybe their parents find out and aren't too happy about it

-Whumpee is a prince/princess who's taken hostage to try and make the king/queen cooperate with whumper

-identical twin royal siblings. Shenanigans ensue.

I don’t know WHY I haven’t spoken about this yet because it’s my obsession but ROYAL WHUMP??!? Or actually just anything Royal in general but I do very much enjoy Royal whump. Not specifically when the royalty are whumped, but just when they are involved in some way. Maybe they’re the Whumpers, maybe the caretakers. Maybe they’re a love interest or an enemy. It doesn’t make a difference, as long as they are somehow related to the whumpee it’s just 🤩 gold.

[astaldis]

Chapter 2: Fever

@whumpers-monthly​       @whumpcember

Chapters: 2/3 Words: 4,528

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach & Gallatin

Additional Tags: Developing Friendships, Friendship, Gallahir, Stitches, Scars, Fainting, Exhaustion, Fever, Sickness

Summary: After having been ambushed by humans, Gallatin is seriously wounded. Lucky for him, not all humans hate elves. - This is the story of how Gallatin and Cahir meet for the first time. (Set shortly after Emhyr defeated the Usurper in 1260.) 

Flames, a sea of yellow, orange and red. They came in the dark of night. Humans with axes, pitchforks and torches. Drunk, some of them on alcohol, others on hate. Hate against those who are different, who it is easy to blame for everything that goes wrong in their lives. For the death of their only cow, a bad harvest, the rotting rat in the well that poisoned the water and made them sick. Even for the lunar eclipse and the wild hunt riding across the sky. It is all their fault. It is why they have to die. And die they do this night, in the searing hot flames, the inferno that devours their home, in the fire laid by their neighbours who they thought were their friends. Their human neighbours. He is running toward the burning house, toward the desperate screams of his mother and sisters that the wind carries across the fields, toward the laughter and jeering of the mob. However, his legs feel like molasses. He is too slow, too far. He will never reach them in time no matter how fast he runs. The screams of agony rise above the din of the mob, above the roar of the fire, above the pounding of his heart and his own, hoarse yells. Although far away, he can feel the deadly heat in his face that burns his skin off, leaving nothing but blackened bone. These must be the fires of hell, and there is no escape ...

Continue reading on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51654421/chapters/130580725

Source: archiveofourown.org

[astaldis]

Earned Loyalty: Chapter 14 - Nasty Party

@whumpuary​ @badthingshappenbingo

Chapters: 14/15  

Words: 32,000

Fandom: The Witcher (TV)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Relationships: Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach & Gallatin

Additional Tags: Developing Friendships, Friendship, Gallahir, Stitches, Scars, Fainting, Exhaustion, Fever, Fever Dreams, Sickfic, Fire, Nightmares, Concussions, Hurtcember, Hurtcember 2023, Whumpcember, Whumpcember 2023, Bad Things Happen Bingo, big brother instinct, cornered, Hiding, Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach Whump, gallatin whump, Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach Has a Bad Time, pre-season 3, Drowning, Animal Attack, Banter, Crutches, Swearing, Whumpuary 2024, fluffbruary 2024, a pinch of pining, but maybe only one-sided?, Who Knows?, Cat, Fluff

Series: Part 1 of Cahir & Gallatin fics

Summary: After having been ambushed by humans, Gallatin is seriously wounded. Lucky for him, not all humans hate elves. It's not all that easy for Cahir to fulfil his dangerous mission in the Nazairean highlands either. - This is the story of how Gallatin and Cahir meet for the first time. (Set shortly after Emhyr defeated the Usurper in 1260.)

Written for Bad Things Happen Bingo, Whumpcember 2023, AMonthOfWhump's Winter Whumperland, Whumpers-Monthly issue no. 23 & 24, Hurtcember 2023, Merry Whumpmas, Whumpuary 2024 and Fluffbruary prompts.

Read on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51654421/chapters/134604472

[astaldis]

Scars IV - Whumper's Monthly issue no 30

Earned Loyalty

@whumpers-monthly

Fandom: The Witcher Netflix

Whumpee: Gallatin

Caretaker: Cahir

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence

Summary: After having been ambushed by humans, Gallatin is seriously wounded. Lucky for him, not all humans hate elves. It's not all that easy for Cahir to fulfil his dangerous mission in the Nazairean highlands either. - This is the story of how Gallatin and Cahir meet for the first time. (Set shortly after Emhyr defeated the Usurper in 1260.)

From Chapter 2: Fever

"Let me have a look," he says, removing the felt coverings from Gallatin's fever-hot face. Gallatin sucks in a pained breath. And another one as Cahir dabs at the suture with a piece of cloth. 

"You're lucky, elf, I don't think I'll have to re-do any of the stitches. The bleeding has almost stopped," he says with a critical frown. "There is a good amount of swelling, though. It's probably causing the fever." 

Gallatin grunts in response. It is safer than trying to speak. He can thank the human later.

Hearing footsteps approaching, both Gallatin and Cahir turn toward the entrance.

"Ah, put the bucket right here, thank you," Cahir says to the man who steps inside the tent. He is clad very similarly to the young human but looks considerably older.

"Sir!" the man salutes after having done as ordered. Cahir waves him away. He dunks a fresh piece of cloth into the water. Carefully, he wipes Gallatin's sweaty-hot face with it. Gallatin closes his eyes and heaves a sigh. The coldness feels good. Then Cahir spreads a fresh layer of poultice onto the raised, flaming red scar. Like before, he covers it with strips of felt that stick to the fatty paste smelling of yarrow, chamomile and merigold. 

"You should drink some more, elf, but slowly," Cahir says when he is done. Very cautiously this time and supported by the Dh'oine, Gallatin sips the bitter tea. Then he lies down with a groan, feeling so groggy all of a sudden that he can barely keep his eyes open. Once again, Cahir wipes his face with cold water. Then he places a cold compress on Gallatin's forehead.

"Sleep now," he commands. Gallatin does not need to be told twice. Thoroughly spent, he drifts into an uneasy sleep.

Read the story on Ao3 here.

Published: 2023-12-01; Completed: 2024-02-14; Words: 38,425; Chapters: 17/17