Defiant Whumpee - Blog Posts

June of Doom Day 8

“This is your last chance.” | Drowning | Chair | Prisoner Trade |

Content: drowning, intimate whumper, restraints, defiant whumpee, torture

"This is your last chance Whumpee."

Whumpee struggled against Whumper who was holding them above a tub of water by their wet hair. Water dripped down Whumpee's face as they gasped for breath.

"You can give me the information I need right now or we can keep going at this. I have all the time in the world."

"I'll n-never tell you anythi-"

Whumper pushed their head back under so fast that Whumpee didn't even have time to hold their breath. They coughed and sputtered while uselessly fighting against Whumper's grip. Their efforts were useless, immobilized by the tight handcuffs keeping their hands behind them.

Just when they thought they weren't going to make it, that Whumper was actually going to kill them, they were yanked out of the water. They took in all the air they could get before they were pulled under again. This time they didn't have as much fight left and quickly felt the world go black.

Whumpee awoke lying on the cell floor coughing. They turned over and slowly sat themselves against the wall. They tried to steady their breathing, hair and clothes still damp from earlier that day. Just as they started to relax, the door unlocked.

"Finally up, eh? You passed out on me. Had to end the fun early."

Whumpee scoffed. It definitely wasn't their idea of fun.

Whumper leaned against the wall with their arms crossed, "I have a little present for you." Oh gosh. That could never be good. "I feel like I haven't been going hard enough on you. You're still a little more comfortable here than I'd like."

Whumpee glared, "What do you mean not hard enough? You literally just drowned me until I passed out!"

"Ah, that's exactly what I mean. You're still talking back. You'd think with all that I've done, you wouldn't even think to, but that's just not the case for you, is it? You're so overcomplicated."

"Well, you can't expect me to just take you torturing me without talking back. It's your fault I'm like this anyways."

"I know. That's why I'm going to give you to my friend."

"What?"

"It's just for a few days. They are really good at what they do, even better than me. They'll hopefully straighten you out."

Just a few days. Whumpee could handle that. They should be glad to be away from their torturer, but Whumpee knew Whumper's friends were even more ruthless than Whumper which almost seemed impossible. They could handle it though. They had all this time. They wouldn't break now.

Whumpee was taken by surprise as Whumper pulled out wrist and ankle cuffs.

"What's that for?"

"To make sure you don't escape during transportation. Wouldn't want you to run away before we start. That'd really dampen my reputation."

Whumpee usually wasn't kept cuffed unless on rare occasion like when Whumper drowned them. They stumbled along as Whumper led them through parts of the base they'd never been before. Eventually, they found themselves outside. The sun hit them and they almost melted at it's warmth. They hadn't felt the sun in so, so long. Maybe this wouldn't be that bad. At least they finally got some fresh air even if Whumper's friend was apparently going to break them in or something.

Whumper waved to a friendly looking guy standing just outside of the base.

"Whumpee, this is my friend. Friend, this is Whumpee."

Whumpee almost laughed. There was no way this guy could hurt them, let alone a fly. Whumper was really making a mistake here.

"Nice to meet you Whumpee. I've heard a lot about you. I can't wait for our time together."

Whumpee simply nodded. They stayed strong as they were led into a car and driven away by Whumper's friend. This was going to be a nice break they thought. Boy, were they wrong.

Just a few days later they were begging to go back to Whumper. When the time came, they were dumped unceremoniously at Whumper's door. They nearly cried as Whumper picked them up and carried them to the medbay.

Everything hurt so bad. They were covered in blood and bruises. All they wanted was just a tiny break from the pain.

"Oh, you poor thing. I told you they were harsh. If you would've just listened in the first place this wouldn't have had to happen."

Whumpee cried as Whumper tended to their wounds.

"Shh, I know it hurts but we can't have you getting an infection." Whumper cupped their hand to Whumpee's face. "I know this was hard on you, but it needed to be done. Now you can be nice and good for me."

Whumpee continued to cry as Whumper comforted them. It felt so wrong. They shouldn't let the one who hurt them so much even be near them, but here they were. They were so desperate for even a second of relief that they pushed those thoughts aside. It was okay to need a break. They would take Whumper's comfort for a little bit then everything would go back to normal, right?

Whumpee breaking things in whumper's house as an act of defiance.

Whumper watching and waiting patiently for it to end, drink in their hand, smiling as they think of how much fun will punishment be.

Some thoughts, quotes and just things I had once that I considered are something worth knowing:

Also some of this are scattered on my writings.

When you are a child, the only thing you may have and that never leaves you are dreams. You dream, with reaching the stars, with walking among clouds, with travelling the world. When you grow up, you realize that stars are far away and are way bigger than you. That clouds are just air, and that the world is too big. Those dreams die. And you have to continue.

Sometimes you like loliness not because you truly do, but because when you needed not to be alone, you were, and you had to like it cause there was no choice.

A sword is not a sword without first passing through the blacksmith's hammer. Pain forges you.

"I am nobody, but thats my advantage. I am a blank space that I and only I can fullfil. I may be nobody, but I can make myself anybody. I can be the one that shows them wrong, I can be the one that rattle the world. I can be the one that defies, I can be the one that fights to be better. And just by that, I am someone. Someone that made something, and for that something I may remain. I may be remembered. And considered. And listened. I am nobody, but I can make myself someone. " —Me analizing THE scene (not the possession, the one when Lockwood practically begs Lucy to stay) of Ep 2 "Let go of Me" from Lockwood and Co. It is needed to say It came out at 3:00 am while I was planning to talk to Netflix.

The only dream I ever had (the only dream that I wrote that Esther from my Sandman fanfic has) is that I want to be able to sing "I Lived" by One Republic with all the right of the universe.

If I ever had an encouter with a celebrity I admire, I will not shout, or go crazy, or do something weird. I will just say hello and see what comes after that.

To dream is to defy, and to defy is to dream.

You're not crazy, you just dont manage to be as false as the mayority.

You may be tired, but please, do not give up. One day you'll look back and laugh, realizing that the pain, the tears, the loliness, all those things that made you bleed, had a purpose.

"Love belongs to Desire, and Desire is always cruel". Neil Gaiman, you are wrong. Love is described perfectly on the Bible, on 1 Corinthians 13.

Darkness is interesting, yet dangerous. Be aware of that, always.

You are something to treasure. Your mind, your body, your heart. Do not waste yourself.

Hebrews 11:1

Whatever that comes out of that great and dreamer mind of yours is something worth to know.

Laugh, cry, suffer, fly, dream, love, live. And do not dare to regret any of it.

Subject #1 :

Chapter one

Contents: Lab whump, kidnapping, defiant whumpee, clueless whumper, role reversal (sorta), knockout gas, swearing, caged whumpee

----

Max’s head throbbed. He tiredly reached his arm up to rub his eye, groggily opening the other. He stopped, dumbstruck. This wasn’t his room… 

The sight of bars greeted him, no further than 20cm away from his sitting figure. Past the bars, a large, sterile looking facility greeted him. The walls were all bare white, but a labyrinth of tables stretched the rest of the room, almost every surface covered with brightly coloured vials, scratchily written notes and mindlessly discarded needles. 

Fear began to weigh down his stomach. Where was he? What had happened? He backed up to the end of the cage he was in, only managing to shuffle back about a step before he felt his back hit the cold metal bars on the other side.

“Oh you’re awake!” Max turned around and sprung to the other end of the cage, back now facing the lab. The man now stood, looking down on the cage. He was unable to make out a lot of details from the angle he was sitting, only able to distinguish the vague silhouette of a lab coat. 

His face was slightly more clear, an innocent looking curious expression in his wide brown eyes. He had scruffy mid length black hair that looked poorly looked after and greasy. He’d tried to tie it into a low ponytail, but large chunks of his too short hair had fallen out and over his face messily, and there was an excitable, childish grin on his round face. 

Max stared at him in disbelief. 

“Who the fuck are you?” He asked, his voice hoarse 

“Please, language. I don’t tolerate that kind of language in my lab.” He paused for a second, making uncomfortable eye contact with Max. “My name is Doug Gillen. I’m a scientist. Do you have any questions?” Max, who was trying and failing to properly collect himself, snapped back into speech, ignoring the strangely matter of fact way his captor spoke.

“Yes, actually, I do. First of all, What the fuck? What the fuck is going on? Where the fuck am I? What the fuck is-” Doug cut him off.

“Please, please, mind your language. I really don’t appreciate swearing. To answer your question, you’re in my lab. I needed a test subject, and you fit the bill perfectly. No longer close to family, drifting away from friends, no one will think much of you disappearing.” He adjusted his glasses “Anyways, we should probably get to -”

“No. No no no. You can’t- no. No. You kidnapped me? Oh fuck oh fuck oh fu-”

“What did I just tell you about language?” Doug paused for a second, narrowing his eyes slightly. “Anyways, I’d like to ask you a few questions now, if that’s okay.” He looked at Max for a second, not waiting for a reply before continuing. “What’s your full name? Even in all the time I was scoping you out as a potential test subject, you never brought up your full name. I’m curious, Max. What is it?” 

The sound of his name coming from the mouth of his kidnapper sent a chill down his spine. 

“You-stalked me!? You-you.” Max paused for a second to compose himself. “No, I’m not telling you. I’m never telling you anything. His voice was laced with venom. Doug tilted his head, seeming genuinely confused.

“Why not? I’m not asking for much here.” 

Max stared at the figure in front of him with a mixture of disbelief and disgust.

“Why not!? You’re asking me why I don’t want to give information to my kidnapper!? If you think for a single fucking-”

“-Language-”

“‘Second that I’m going to comply with you, you must be insane. Hell, you probably are! I mean, no one sane would just fucking kidnap someone and-”

“Max.” Doug kneeled down to meet him at eye level. Quieten down for a second. Let me speak.” Max stared daggers at him, but stayed quiet. “Good. Now, I’ve got a proper cell for you. You’re the first human guest that-” Max quickly began to say something but was quickly drowned out by Doug, who just continued to speak. “So if it's a little different to what you expect I apologize. Anyways, I’m just gonna let you out of your cage and lead you there.”

 Max looked up at the last sentence. He’s just gonna let me go loose? Doug was still speaking, but Max was no longer paying attention. This might be the only chance I get. He blinked, noticing Doug’s expectant stare. “Well?”

“Yeah, okay.” Max had no idea what he’d just agreed to, but Doug seemed satisfied. He reached into one of his lab coat pockets, pulling out a small key and beginning to fiddle with the lock. 

Max took another look around the lab.There was a door, about 20m to his left. The lock finally clicked open, and Doug opened the hatch in the side, eyes gleaming with excitement. Max quickly scrambled out of the cage, ignoring the aching in both his legs as he stood, handcuffs immediately clicking onto his wrists, Doug taking a firm hold of the metal. 

The first thing Max noticed when he stood was Doug’s height. It had been hard to tell earlier, from where he was sitting, but he was short. Max wasn’t a super tall guy, maybe around 5’10, but he stood almost a foot taller than the scientist. 

Max blinked. 

Doug was just stood there, loosely holding the middle of the handcuffs with one hand, and fiddling with the keys with his other. 

Max yanked his arms quickly away from Doug, who, not expecting it, let go of the handcuffs for a second, quickly snatching them back, using his free hand to pick a small spray bottle out of one of his oversized lab coat pockets and spraying his face with a bit of water. Did… did he really try to use a spray bottle to punish me? Like a cat? Max felt more and more confused the longer this situation continued. Max looked down at Doug, who was now trying to shove the spray bottle back into one of his many bulging pockets, clearly filled to the brim with things he didn’t need. 

Max looked down at his handcuffs again. This scrawny, clearly deficient in some vitamins, scientist seemed to have no sense of self preservation. He claimed to know about Max, but still seemed entirely unfazed being entirely undefended infront of someone whose biggest hobby was boxing. 

He knew he couldn’t fight like he normally would, not with the handcuffs, so he clasped his hands together, slowly bringing them up. He almost felt bad, this Doug person seemed harmless enough, but- 

No. He kidnapped me. He stalked me. He deserves this.

Max clobbered him around the side of the face, the hard metal handcuffs striking his unprepared face painfully. Doug lurched back, a pained squeak coming out of his mouth as he felt his now bloodied cheek. He looked back up at Max, pleadingly, with fear in his wide, innocent eyes. Max had to shake away any sympathy. He kidnapped me! He stalked me! He raised his hands again, swinging again. 

And again

And again

He kidnapped me!

And again

He stalked me!

And again

Doug was on the floor by now, his face a bloodied mess, his hands weakly raised in a pathetic attempt to keep Max away. Small, cracked whimpers escaped his broken lips, but he wasn’t able to speak anymore. Max continued to pummel him, all empathy for this guileless man replaced by pure blind fury. 

He noticed, between strikes, that Doug was trying to reach back towards one of his pockets, trying to pull something out, but being thrown off with every punch. It took him a few tries, but he eventually managed to grab the item firmly enough to pull it out. A gas mask?

 Realisation dawned upon Max, and he sprang up, rushing towards the door. 

Too late.

 A faint hissing sound was audible from somewhere above him.

No no no no no no no

He covered his mouth and nose with his hoodie sleeve. It didn’t help. The walls seemed to sway as he stumbled to the door, falling forwards and catching himself on the locked door handle.

His head was spinning

Spinning

Max couldn’t stay upright. Even while holding onto the door handle, he couldn’t help himself from slipping, falling onto the floor. The walls kept spinning around him, his eyelids struggling to stay open

No no no no no no

I was…

I was so…

So close…

----

So this is the first time I'm ever posting my writing anywhere, and while its not my best work, I've decided that I need to try to post it anyways, because if I don't now, who knows when I will.

The moment a defiant Whumpee relents for the first time. The first “please” that breaks from their lips. The first time they do what they’re told without a fight. The first night they don’t attempt an escape. The first meal they don’t throw back in Whumper’s face. The first kiss they don’t refuse. The first, the first, the first, until there are no more firsts. Until they are no longer defiant.

June of doom, day nineteen:

That’s going to be one hell of a scar : cage // pliers // scrape

CW: team Whump, leader whump, threats, carving/ cutting ( explicit), blood (explicit), intimate whumper, scary whumper, evil whumper, creepy whumper, defiant whumpees, multiple whumpees, knife mentioned, torture (explicit and graphic), mention of past injury, fear of darkness?, Self sacrifice

Very long and very late I am sorry, enjoy

*~*~*~*~*

“Leader? Leader!” Medic whispered through the darkness, rousing Leader from their light nap. “Leader?”

“I’m here, Medic,” said Leader, voice reassuring. Leader was sitting with their back against the wall, no, not wall. Leader turned with a groan, their muscles still heavy with sleep and their last fight with Supervillain. Leader’s hand found cool metal bars and that woke them up immediately.

Their last battle with Supervillain… Leader remembers their team sweeping in just in time, just as Supervillain’s fist came down on their temple and darkness swallowed them.

Fuck.

“Supervillain has us?” Leader asked quietly.

“He used you as leverage. Told us to surrender or he’d kill you. I’m sorry Leader.”

“No,” said Leader with a grunt, sitting back against the bars. No wonder they were aching all over. “No don’t be sorry. I would have done the same thing. Where are you?”

Leader squinted against the darkness trying to locate Medic, or anything for that matter. They could barely see their nose in front of their face.

“I’m— I think I’m in a cage,” said Medic. Their voice came from the right. Leader lifted their arm through the bars trying to feel for another cage but felt nothing. They took a sharp breath as the reaching movement aggravated a stabbing pain in their ribs. “Leader?”

“I’m okay,” said Leader through grit teeth. Fuck, Supervillain had gotten a few good hits on Leader. Their upper lip was sticking to their nose from no doubt a trail of blood. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah… we’re all good. Supervillain just took us he didn’t touch us, we were just worried about you…”

“We? Supervillain took all of you?”

A blinding light flashed on and Leader shielded their eyes in the crook of their elbow and heard a couple of familiar moans from the sudden brightness.

“I thought I heard voices,” came the rumbling voice of Supervillain. There was a smile in his voice that set Leader’s nerves on edge. Leader lowered their arm, blinking quickly trying to adjust to the sudden burst of light. Their eyes settled, taking in the room they were in.

Leader was right. They were in a cage. Solid steel bars lined every edge except the bottom which was just a thick metal edge. Leader could fit comfortably sitting down but there was no way Leader could even think about standing in the cage unless they were on their haunches or kneeling. Even then they’d have to bend their torso, there was probably room for Leader’s head again above them and that was it.

Bastard, forcing them to sit like dogs in cages. Leader’s hand clenched into a fist at their side, glaring up at Supervillain as best they could.

Supervillain stood in his stupid grey three piece suit perfectly tailored to his muscular frame. He wore a charcoal grey overcoat and a black scarf over it and had his cane in both his hands, holding it horizontal as his cruel grey eyes focused on Leader in their cage. Face as expressionless as always, impassive, neutral… every part he could control except his grey eyes. His haunting grey eyes that showed exactly what emotion he was feeling. The only part of him that gave Supervillain away.

“Hey let us out of here you psycho!” Youngest yelled, kicking at the bars of their cage. Leader’s eyes went to them. They were the furthest from them on the left. There was a cage between them — where Rogue sat, glaring at Supervillain — then Youngest’s cage after.

Supervillain turned their head to Youngest’s cage and Leader’s heart dropped. “Sprightly little thing aren’t you?”

“How ‘bout you let me out of this cage and I’ll show you how sprightly I can be, hmm?!”

“Youngest,” Medic said, warning in their voice, to shut up or else. Supervillain walked over to Youngest’s cage and crouched down, putting their cane through the bars. Youngest scrambled back, but there wasn’t anywhere to flee to and their back hit the bars with a gentle thud. Leader watched as Supervillain’s cane rested easy on Youngest’s throat.

Youngest swallowed, the cane bobbing with the motion and put a hand up to grab it, but Supervillain batted it away and struck Youngest’s cheek with the cane. Youngest’s cheek whipped to the side with the impact.

“Supervillain!” Leader yelled now at the front bars of the cage, while Medic cried “Get away from them!”

Supervillain didn’t do either. Instead they kept their gaze on Youngest and lowered the cane to Youngest’s throat again, digging into it: “How ‘bout I chain you up and muzzle you for your insolence, hmm? Will that put manners on you?”

“Supervillain,” said Leader, voice hard. “Leave them alone. If you want to hurt somebody, hurt me!”

Supervillain turned their head and their piercing grey eyes found Leader’s. “Hush, Leader. It’s rude to interrupt someone. You’ll get your turn.”

Supervillain turned back to Youngest, and Leader and teammates could only watch helplessly from their stupid tiny cages. Leader’s heart was pounding out of their chest through their ears, as Supervillain used the Cane to force Youngest to look at them. An angry red welt was growing on Youngest’s cheek and they stared at Supervillain with a mixture of fear and hatred.

Supervillain tilted their head. Then asked with their horrible, matter of fact way: “Would you like to be immobilised completely and gagged, Youngest?”

Youngest shook their head side to side. “Use your words,” said Supervillain and Youngest swallowed, then spat out a contemptuous no.

“No what?” Supervillain asked, and Youngest’s entire face scrunched up in disgust. Leader saw their hands ball into fists at their sides. Leader also saw the tremble in their hands before they made them into fists. The fear coursing through their veins masked with their anger.

Supervillain pressed the cane into Youngest’s throat and their hand shot up again but stopped at Supervillain’s soft: “ah-ah-ah. No what, Youngest?”

Humiliation burned red on Youngest’s face as they said: “no, sir.”

Supervillain retracted the cane and stood in one swift movement. “Good. You can learn.”

Supervillain then turned to Leader with his grinning grey eyes. “They have a lot of potential, Leader. You should be proud.”

“Let them go, Supervillain,” Leader said.

“Why would I let them go? I have you all right where I want you. Except for you of course, Leader,” said Supervillain, walking towards Leader’s cage. Leader moved so they were sitting on their arse in the cage, legs stretched out in front of them and back against the bars, craning their neck to keep Supervillain in view. Supervillain stood directly over Leader’s cage looking down at them with a subtle hint of a smirk tugging at the edge of his lips.

Supervillain’s voice dipped, his rumbling deepening as he practically purred: “You I want on display. As a warning and a trophy as to what happens to those who oppose me.”

“In your dreams,” Leader snarled and Supervillain laughed, putting their hands on the top of Leader’s cage. Leader fought the urge to grab Supervillain’s hand and yank them down on the cage just to wipe that smirk off his stupid face.

“Sometimes Leader, if you work hard enough, your dreams can come true. Especially now that I got your little gang here too. You’d do just anything to protect them, wouldn’t you?” Leader’s heart sank at his words, their mouth going dry. That’s why they were here. Because of Leader. Because of Leader’s weakness to them.

“If you touch them—“

“I promise I won’t lay a finger on them,” Supervillain said, “as long as you do as I say.”

“No, Leader!” Rogue hissed from the cage to Leader’s left. “No you can’t let him—“

“You’re not sacrificing yourself for us,” said Medic, tone final. “We’ll get out! We’ll find a way, Leader. We always find a way. He just wants you we’ll be fine!”

“Yeah Leader, I just want you. You gonna make your team suffer in your place?” Supervillain asked with their hideous smiling rumble. Leader stuttered out a breath through their nose, even though it felt like they couldn’t breathe. Supervillain was asking something so impossible of them… and Leader didn’t want to just go along with it as horrible as that sounded.

They didn’t want to be the Leader and sacrifice themselves to Supervillain’s sadistic machinations, but if they didn’t… if they didn’t Supervillain would subject his team to them instead. Their team. Their family.

Leader swallowed hard, eyes focused on Supervillain’s cruel grey ones and nodded, just once. Supervillain’s lips spread into a proper smile now, and they got to undoing the lock on top of Leader’s cage. To the protests from Leader’s team.

“No! Leader no! Supervillain! Hurt me instead, hurt me please!” Medic demanded, pleaded, while Rogue just started kicking at the hinges on their cage and yelled in frustration when they got nowhere. Youngest was dead silent as Supervillain lifted the door of the cage and grabbed Leader under the shoulder and helped them out of the cage.

“Easy. Easy, there you go,” Supervillain praised, letting Leader sit back against the cage, sucking in a sharp breath. Supervillain moved his hand down to Leader’s ribs and Leader shot a hand out, stopping him, breathing heavy and cutting into Supervillain with a glare. Supervillain’s expression remained neutral, yet his eyes were a playful chiding. “I gave you that injury, Leader. Do you really think you can deny me seeing it? Do you really want to risk your teammates getting matching bruises?”

Leader’s glare softened to one of furious shame, as they let go of Supervillain’s hand and allowed him to lift Leader’s shirt up to Leader’s ribs. The cold smile on Supervillain’s face looked wrong. Strange. His hand on Leader’s ribs was surprisingly warm, as he pressed his palm against it and Leader sucked in a breath, clenching their jaw.

“Does that hurt?” Supervillain asked with his rolling rumble like falling stone.

“No. I’m just peachy— ow!” Leader cried as Supervillain dug their fingers into Leader’s ribs. Leader jerked to the side but Supervillain held them firm until Leader was gasping for breath, protesting: “Okay! Okay! It hurts!”

Supervillain removed his hand and dropped Leader’s shirt. “Good,” he said and stepped back. Leader looked at him, then Rogue was shouting in warning as Supervillain’s cane cracked against Leader’s bruised ribs. Leader crumbled to their knees, mouth open in a silent scream as they fell, then gasped again on the ground. They were on one hand and their knees, their other hand cradling their ribs protectively.

“Leader! Leader!” Medic was crying, but Leader just sucked in a sharp breath and raised their head to Supervillain again. Eyes narrowing.

Supervillain let out a loud sigh. “Still so insolent,” he said slowly, and cracked the cane against Leader’s jaw. Leader cried out, struggling to get their balance but it didn’t matter. Supervillain kicked at Leader’s injured ribs again and Leader went down, hitting off the stone floor and curling up protectively around themselves.

Leader opened their eyes to see Rogue reaching out for them between the bars, but they weren’t able to reach Leader. Leader saw a flash of grey fabric before a polished shoe slammed down on Rogue’s hand, driving the heel into it.

“No,” Leader gasped out with a pathetic wheeze. “No…” they said again, getting to their knees and grabbing at Supervillain’s foot. “Me… only… me…”

“Hear that Roguey? Only Leader, so stop trying to help or I’ll just hurt Leader more, yeah?” Supervillain said, lifting their foot from Rogue’s hand and grabbing Leader by the hair. Leader groaned as Supervillain yanked them up to their knees. “Get up, Leader. To your feet, come on now. I have a lesson to teach you all.”

Leader cried out as Supervillain yanked them up by the hair further and got to their shaky feet, holding onto Supervillain for balance. “Good. Very good. Now give me your hands.”

Cold fear washed through Leader’s veins at the command. Not their hands, they wanted to say. Anything but their hands. A punch to their ribs and Leader almost doubled over, but Supervillain used the pain as a diversion and cuffed Leader’s hands together in front of them. The cold metal snapped closed over Leader’s wrists, tightened to the point that Leader wondered if they would cut off their blood flow.

A strong hand under Leader’s chin directed their head up to look into those vindictive grey eyes. “Can you stand on your own?”

“Maybe if my ribs weren’t aching right now,” Leader grumbled, channeling all their pain, all their hatred into their glare they shot into the fathomless steel grey sea. Supervillain let Leader go, but Leader was ready this time. Both feet planted on the ground, knees bent, hands kept low in front of them.

The side of Supervillain’s lips quipped at Leader, as if they were impressed, but Leader could also very well be drunk on pain right now so they weren’t sure if what their eyes showed them were real.

Supervillain took off his black scarf first, then his overcoat and hung them on a hook that was nailed into the door. Next came the suit jacket and he stopped there, hanging that up too. He uncuffed the cuff links from his dress shirt and began rolling up his sleeves.

“Thought you were going to treat us to a striptease,” said Leader, forcing their usual devil-may-care smile onto their face. Supervillain flashed a smile too and then Leader’s head was thrown back, fresh blood dripping down their nose as Supervillain grabbed their hair to bring them up again.

“See, Leader, it’s not your fault per se, but with you being the Captain of your little team, your cute lil quips have spread like a wildfire throughout your ranks. Which means not only do I want to torture you to the point where you can’t even think about any witty comments, but I also want to wring it out of your teammates too.”

Leader’s hands shot up at the mention of their teammates and Supervillain smiled a handsome smile, as if he was happy to have touched a nerve.

“So you think I’m witty?” was all Leader said and Medic let out a tired: “shut up leader.”

“See?” Supervillain said, hand tightening in Leader’s hair. “Even they know when to stop.”

Leader just grinned exposing their bloody teeth. They had gone full feral, anything to piss Supervillain off. Anything to keep him off of their teammates. Just bait him. Bait him. Bait all his anger. All his frustration. Don’t even let him think about touching their team.

“Are you going to put me in my place or is you talking the torture?” Leader asked, tired. Supervillain could still that spark of defiance in Leader’s face and he let his mask of indifference shutter down over his own face.

Supervillain turned Leader and began dragging them towards the darkness behind the cages. Leader dragged their feet, their boots scraping along the ground as they were pulled against their will into the deep dark. Fear clasped their heart in a vice as they went stumbling after Supervillain’s long strides.

Lights flickered on around them and Leader could feel all the blood drain from their face. It looked like a fucked up medical room, with tools and utensils on the walls perfectly hung and cabinets full of god knows what.

And in the middle of the room was a metal table. Leader started struggling more now and Supervillain grinned as he felt the pull become more desperate. Supervillain turned to face Leader and revelled in the panic winding through their features. Supervillain yanked Leader forward and shoved them back onto the table. Leader fought them, trying to push Supervillain away but even on a good day they knew they wouldn’t be able to.

Supervillain wrestled Leader down, yanking their cuffed wrists above their head and hooking them to the end of the table. Leader yanked them down with all their might but they wouldn’t come loose. Supervillain watched Leader struggle until they stopped, lazy grey eyes going to Leader’s, raising his eyebrows, he asked: “no witty remarks?”

“Do your worst,” is what Leader said and Supervillain grinned.

“Oh I intend to,” said Supervillain stepping away from the table and walking over to one of the walls, grabbing a pliers from it and walking back over. Leader felt adrenaline pump through their veins a little too late if you asked Leader, but they tugged on the cuffs all the same just for something to do. Somewhere to put their fear.

Supervillain left the pliers on the metal table then walked back to the cages. The panic seized Leader’s throat as they leaned up, straining against the ache in their ribs, against the strain on their arms and cried out: “Supervillain! Don’t touch them! Just me, remember?!”

The clang of the handcuffs off the metal table was ricocheting through Leader’s ears like a storm of bullets from their struggling but they didn’t care. They saw Supervillain bend and pick up something from the floor and turn to walk back to Leader.

Leader calmed down a bit after seeing it was Supervillain’a cane. “Don’t worry Leader. I only have eyes for you. This just requires a more personal touch,” said Supervillain with his rolling voice, a hint of humour rounding his words. When Supervillain stopped beside the metal table Leader was chained to, he clicked a button on the handle and the hidden blade shinked out of the end of the cane.

The dagger had been a nasty surprise when Leader first felt it slice across his cheek. Supervillain had kept it a secret until Leader finally had the advantage over him in a fight, and then that shink changed the entire pace of the fight. That just seemed to be the general theme of Supervillain and Leader’s relationship.

Supervillain always seemed to have the upper hand.

Supervillain twisted the bottom of the cane and it came loose, the black metal of the cane becoming the hilt of the blade at the bottom. Leader tugged at the handcuffs again. They felt too exposed. Too readily waiting like a lamb for slaughter, they needed to do something.

“Nerves getting the better of you?” Supervillain asked, voice quiet as he placed the cane on a table to the side. “I can always drag Medic over here instead if you prefer.”

“You wouldn’t live to see tomorrow if you did,” Leader hissed and Supervillain smiled down at them.

“Just making sure. Now, to business,” said Supervillain. They grabbed Leader’s shirt and cut it loose with the blade. The cool metal scraped against Leader’s abdomen and chest causing a shiver to run down their spine. Supervillain turned back to face the cages and said louder so everyone could hear: “is everyone paying attention? Good. This is what happens you just don’t know when to stop and piss me off. Pay attention Youngest.”

The harsh tug of metal and Supervillain smiled to himself, turning back to Leader. All helpless and angry below him. Supervillain nearly sighed and stopped his work to just bask in how long it took him to finally get Leader here. Right where he wanted them, to finally hear them scream and not be able to fight back whatsoever.

Not with their hands.

Not with their words.

He wanted them broken, and hollow, to be moulded into something more after Supervillain was finished with them. The potential just sat idle under their skin and Supervillain would be the man to bring it out into the sunlight. That untapped nugget of something extraordinary.

Supervillain walked around the other side of the table, dagger in hand, then hummed, walking to the other side again. Mouth screwing up in concentration. Then, mind made up he sighed and climbed onto the table, straddling Leader’s waist with a knee on either side.

“At least buy me dinner fir— uhst,” Leader gasped as Supervillain pressed their ribs with his fingers.

“I need you to hold still for me now Leader, and tell me when it hurts.”

Supervillain wished he could have photographed the beautiful confusion on Leader’s face before he leaned over them, pinning their shoulder to table and started carving the first initial of Supervillain’s name just below Leader’s right shoulder.

Leader screamed as Supervillain dragged the blade through skin as if it was as easy as paper, thrashing in their restraints and screaming. Trying to loosen the handcuffs from the hook or jab a knee into Supervillain’s side, crotch, leg — anything. Anything to stop the pain that burned through Leader’s shoulder.

“Hold still. Almost there,” said Supervillain and placed a steadying hand on Leader’s bruised ribs to keep them down. Leader opened their mouth in a silent scream, trying to alleviate the pressure by sucking in their stomach and pushing it out. Twisting, writhing, turning— nothing could make them feel better.

Supervillain leaned back and smiled down at Leader. Leader was just happy they had finally stopped, but it didn’t stop the stinging pain from the deep cuts that were still bubbling warm blood down Leader’s torso and onto the table. To Leader’s horror, Supervillain reached back and picked up the pliers they had left on the edge of the table.

Supervillain brought them down to Leader’s fresh cuts and Leader shook their head, tears streaming down their face. “Supervillain— don’t- don’t!”

“Sssh,” Supervillain cooed, pressing a bloody finger to Leader’s lips. “Relax. I just need to make sure it’ll last.”

That sentence did anything but reassure Leader and before Leader could tell Supervillain that they would rate him poorly on yelp, the pliers was in his skin. The metal bites opening Leader’s flesh, ripping them further apart. Leader screamed from their gut, like a banshee, except worse because they knew merciful death wasn’t coming after the torture. It was just more torture.

Leader was in and out of consciousness by the time Supervillain was done, blinking hazily up at the monster above them. “Good. Done. You did so good. That’s—“ supervillain said with a laugh. “That’s gonna leave one hell of a scar, Leader. You’ll die with that one.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Leader croaked, voice hoarse from screaming. Supervillain tutted them.

“Leader. Leader. Leader. Where’s your usual banter, hmm? No funny input? I didn’t expect you to break so soon.”

Leader couldn’t even tug at their restraints in protest anymore. Their body was exhausted from healing and the adrenaline leaving their system. Supervillain lifted the bloody pliers so Leader could see it and sighed.

“You know the pliers was fun, but I think a clamp would be much more effective at ensuring scarring, wouldn’t you Medic?”

Leader barely heard Medic’s desperate reply. “Please… Supervillain. Please, let me look at them. I can heal them, make sure—“

“Enough. I don’t want them healed. I want them suffering. Although I do enjoy this whole family trauma thing, it does spice up the torture a bit.”

Supervillain was off Leader them and Leader nearly passed out with relief. Until their eyes followed Supervillain to the wall again and they pulled out a medical clamp, and the breath was taken from them.

Supervillain wasn’t done with Leader… they weren’t finished yet.

Sure enough Supervillain climbed back on top of Leader in the same position as before with their blood slicked knife in hand and a clamp in the other.

“You… you’re… I thought—“

“You thought we were done?” Supervillain asked and then laughed. A humourless, evil sound. “No. No. That was just the initial of my first name, Leader. How else will people know I tamed you if I don’t write my last name too?”

Distantly Leader could hear Rogue and Youngest shouting, protesting, calling Supervillain ever name under the sun and screaming. Pleading.

It all melded together in the static in Leader’s brain.

“In all honesty, Leader, you should be thanking whatever God is looking down at you that I don’t have a double barrel last name or we’d run out of body parts.”

Supervillain leaned over and pinned Leader’s left shoulder before getting to carving again. Leader screamed and cried and screamed some more and eventually, mercifully, they passed out on the table.

You'll Need Your Strength

Whumping the Whumpers - Part Twenty

(tw: force-feeding, restraints, concussion, broken nose, beating, multiple whumpers, knife, creepy whumper, "good boy" used, whumper turned whumpee, whumpee turned whumper)

[Previous | Masterlist | Next]

Ethan nudged Elias with the toe of his shoe.

Nothing.

He sighed, pulling his foot back to kick his leg instead.

-A twitch-

One more time then,

Ethan pulled back again, punting Elias in the stomach.

His eyes flew open.

Theeeere we go.

Elias sputtered and choked, writhing back. His eyes were sparkling and prickled when they rolled up to meet Ethan’s.

Ethan smiled down at him. “Good morning sunshine. Glad to have you back.”

Elias’ trembling gave out as he clenched his fists behind his back - that probably hurt, they’d been like that 12 hours now. Nice.

Elias glared up at him.

Ethan resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Save that shit for later - I brought you some food.” He held the small bowl of oatmeal up a bit lower - not that Elias could see inside. He probably didn’t want to see it anyway. It looked like shit.

Cooking aside, Ethan had just brought him food. Fucker should be grateful. Instead, Elias narrowed his eyes at Ethan.

That’s going to get old real fast, isn’t it?

“Get up.”

Elias didn’t move.

Ethan’s fingers twitched around the bowl. “You have ten seconds to get up on your knees before I put you there.”

Still didn’t move.

Fuckin- Ugh.

Screw the counting, he wasn’t going to count when Elias had no intention of complying. Ethan sank another kick into his stomach, only enjoying his sputtering for a moment before gripping his hair and wrenching him up onto his knees - so conveniently curled up under him after that kick.

Almost like he planned that. 

Elias started thrashing back, but it only settled him closer to his spot on the ground. 

Ethan kept a tight grip on his hair, twisting until Elias grunted when the bastard wouldn’t fucking hold still.

Ethan knelt in front of him, pulling his head back until he bared his teeth.

“Just hold still - be grateful I’m even feeding you.” He jerked again as Elias looked like he was working up some spit - that wouldn't be smart. Then again, Elias wasn’t the brightest knife in the shed. Fucker probably wouldn’t even know what was wrong with that sentence.

“I’d suggest you eat before I get bored. You don’t have to be well fed to bleed or scream.”

“It’s true, you really don’t,” Nate piped up. 

Elias’ eyes slid over Ethan’s shoulder - presumably to wherever Nate was lurking behind him. Ethan rolled his eyes. He glanced over his shoulder too.

“If you’re going to be here, at least be useful.”

Nate smiled. “If you want help, you’ll have to be a little more polite.”

Ethan’s hand unwound from Elias’ hair, turning to fully glare at Nate.

Nate raised his hands, laughing. “Fuck - fine - okay I’m coming.” He took his sweet time getting behind Elias, kneeling down as well and forcing his head back again. Elias damn-near squeaked that time. 

Ethan’s eyes shot to Nate’s hands, trying to figure out what he was…

Twisting- he saw the way Elias’ jaw was tipped - he’s twisting…forcing pressure down -not back, just down- on the angled vertebrate… Ethan’s lips pursed as he filed that trick away for later.

Ethan scooped up a half-spoonful of the oatmeal, holding it up to Elias.

“Open.”

Elias grit his teeth. “Fuck. Off.”

Ethan’s heart beat a little harder - hammering against his chest. It sent warm static tingling through him. 

He moved the spoon a bit closer. “Come on, you’re going to need your strength today.”

Then Elias started thrashing.

Joy.

Ethan gripped his jaw, squeezing until he wrenched it open. With Nate holding his head relatively still, Ethan scraped the spoon past his teeth and dropped most of the oatmeal inside.

He ripped the metal back out, cracking it along the teeth again because the motherfucker didn’t know how to open his mouth properly.

Ethan let go of his jaw. “There. Was that so fucking hard?”

Elias seemed to be chewin-

Nope. Spitting. It was spitting.

Ethan’s eyes dropped to the glob of chunky grey sludge on the floor - narrowly missing his leg. His gaze snapped back up to Elias. 

His tone darkened. “Alright, let’s try that again.”

Ethan started into the bow, skimming more mottled grain off the top - congealing now. His eyes dropped to the glob on the floor.

He promptly tapped the mouthful off the spoon, setting the bowl to the side and scooping the pieces off the floor instead.

He held them to Elias’ lips. “Open.”

Elias’ eyes flicked to the wet glob - shining from spit. He snarled at Ethan.

“Hey, it’s not my fault you made it gross.” Ethan gripped his jaw again, squeezing until the taught muscles gave way under his fingertips, cracking his mouth open. Elias tried to thrash, but Nate kept him still - one hand creeping around his throat. Ethan shoved the spoonful inside, clamping his jaw shut this time and holding it tight. Elias thrashed and grunted uselessly, trying to work the bite back out.

Nate’s mouth pressed behind Elias’ ear, whispering- “I’d swallow if I were you. There’s plenty of less dignified ways to force it down your throat.”

Too late, Ethan was already losing patience. He clamped his other hand down over Elias’ mouth. Unable to breathe through the broken nose, Elias started squirming almost immediately.

“Swallow and I’ll let you breathe.”

Elias was shuddering, head twitching in his attempt to throw them off of him. 

Ethan rolled his eyes. “This isn’t something you can win. Save your strength to scream nice and pretty later.”

Nate raised an eyebrow at him.

Ethan squinted back. “What?”

Nate shrugged. “Nope. Nothing. You keep doing what you’re doing.” He glanced down at Elias. “Still not budging, huh?” His hand gripped tighter around Elias’ throat, rubbing up and down.

Elias sputtered, swallowing under the sensation. 

“Aw, there you go,” Nate smirked. He pat Elias’ cheek roughly. “What a good boy.”

Ethan grimaced at Nate. “Okay, now you just made it weird.” He let up his grip, letting Elias suck in gasping breaths.

Nate ignored Elias’ noises. “Oh, I’m sorry. Was everything up until that socially acceptable?”

Elias cut in, trying to twist to look at Nate. Pissed. “Fuck- who even are you, man?”

Nate gave a polite smile that Elias could hardly see. “Friend of the family.”

“He doesn- he doesn’t have a family.”

Nate pursed his lips. “Long lost twin?”

Ethan’s eyes narrowed.

Nate tried again. “How about ‘high school crush’?” He was grinning again.

Elias just looked confused.

Ethan rolled his eyes, standing up. “Alright. I’m bored of this.” He planted a solid kick to Elias’ stomach before wandering off to set the bowl on the counter. 

Nate let go of Elias as he doubled over, coughing and wheezing at the impact. Elias looked up to Ethan, some concern breaking through the mask.

Ethan raised an eyebrow. “Don’t give me that look. It’s not my fault you wanted to skip to the good part.” His fingers trailed over the rack of knives.

“Let’s get started, then.”

.

[Previous | Masterlist | Next]

(tags: @prisonerwhump @whumpawink @mabledonut @heathenwhump @paleassprince @jadeocean46910 @wormwriting @distinctlywhumpthing @whump-cafe @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @azayta @tropes-for-my-md-daydreams @batfacedliar-yetagain @there-will-always-be-blood @siren-of-agony @whumpworld @bandages-andobsessions @deltaxxk @whumpasaurus101 @cryptidhongo @pickywhumpreader @cursedscribbles @thecitythatdoesntsleep)

cw: gagged whumpee, implied kidnapping, pet whump, intimate whumper

we all love whumpees screaming and begging but what about gagged whumpees tho

- whumpee being gagged in the middle of them screaming and they’re still desperately trying to scream / get their voice out until whumper forces them to shut up

- whumpee quietly whimpering under their gag as (intimate) whumper runs their hand through their hair

- whumpers putting muzzles on their pet whumpees

- that trope where whumpee is making a recording and suddenly they’re grabbed from behind, a hand goes over their mouth and they reach out for the camera as they’re dragged away (maybe the camera falls down and whumper picks it up to smile at it before the recording ends)

- whumper stuffing something in (defiant) whumpee's mouth only to have them bite down on whumper's fingers

- defiant whumpee who refuses to shut up even though they've been gagged

- stoic whumpee biting down on their gag to suppress a scream when whumper tortures them

nsfwhump under here (warning for noncon, bad caretaker) (18+ only pls)

- whumpee whimpering under their gag as whumper fucks them and it’s music to whumper’s ears

- drool leaking out from under ball gags 👌

- bad caretaker gagging them and having their way with them in a room so nobody hears them

- a gag that keeps their mouth open so they're forced to suck cock after cock

This is more inspo from my disaster character, Arvin, than anything (I really put him through the ringer whenever I draw/write him), but I was wondering if you could possibly write a small blurb about a creepy/intimate Whumper with a heavily defiant, and stubborn Whumpee? Bonus points if a bed is involved.

(tw: tied to a bed, biting, muzzles, intimate whumper)

Whumpee glared at Whumper while they tugged at the restraints keeping them tied to the headboard, feeling like they were being burned alive under Whumper’s unforgiving gaze.

“Would you cut that out?” They snapped, tugging especially hard on the restraints. “You’re creeping me out. Stop staring at me, you freak.”

Whumper’s smile grew as they leaned on the doorframe, taking in Whumpee’s every move. “Nah.” They moved away from the doorframe and started walking to the bed. “You’re too fun to watch.”

Whumpee pushed themselves back as far as they could go, growling and trying to bite the hand that approached their jaw. Whumper took their hand away quickly, grinning. “Feisty,” they murmured, amused.

“Come any closer and I’ll bite your damn finger off,” Whumpee spat. They despised the restraints that were holding them back. It was the only thing keeping them from going all out on Whumper.

Whumper only chuckled and knelt down, searching around under the bed. “I’d love to see you try, my dear.”

Whumpee thrashed even more when they saw the muzzle in Whumper’s hand when they returned. “No! NO! Get that the fuck away from me!”

Whumper had to tackle Whumpee down to be able to secure the muzzle. They got bitten a few times in the process, earning Whumpee a swift backhand each time. Once the muzzle was fully secured, Whumper brushed their victim’s hair out of their face and admired the rage in their eyes.

“There we are. Beautiful.”

whumper 4 & whumpee 14 maybe? :)

Whumper 4: “Let's see what's more important to you. Your dignity, or their safety?” / Whumpee 14: “I'll do anything!”

Okay so I'm trying to do some different things with these prompts, so here, have some team whump for once. And a defiant whumpee because I realized I go for quiet ones way too often 🙃 Anyways, I hope you like it Anon <3

-

It’s Whumpee’s fault that they were captured. If Whumpee had been a little faster, a little smarter, Whumper wouldn’t have reached them. If they hadn’t been caught with a blade against their neck, their team wouldn’t have been forced to let go of their weapons and let themselves be captured to save Whumpee’s life.

It is Whumpee’s fault, even if no one dares recognize it. Maybe it’s because they are the youngest member, the one the rest of the team sees as their younger sibling. But the lack of blame on their part does nothing to alleviate the knowledge – if it weren’t for Whumpee, the whole team wouldn’t be locked in a cell right now, hands shackled in front of them and the heaviness of anticipation in the air.

When the door opens, all four of them get up in unison. A true team, Whumpee thinks with a lump in their throat. A true family. One they might’ve ruined.

“So, I see you are all settled in,” Whumper smirks, walking inside with a line of guards close behind. “Have my men been treating you well?”

“Oh yes, feels like a much-needed vacation,” Whumpee replies dryly.

Leader shoots them a warning glance, but all Whumpee can think about is their family’s wrists surrounded by metal because of their failure.

Whumper raises their brows, utterly unimpressed, and looks around the room, eyes wandering through all of them.

“Tell me Whumper, how long did you spend planning this? Did you dream about the moment you’d catch us so you wouldn’t be so alone anymore?” Whumpee smiles, and then wider when Whumper’s eyes slide from Caretaker to them. “I bet it’s awfully lonely here. I mean, who would put up with you? So, my question is: is all of this just so you can have at least a little bit of company you didn’t pay for?” they continue, gesturing at the guards standing against the wall.

The smile on Whumper’s lips doesn’t move, but their eyes grow darker at each word that leaves Whumpee’s lips.

“Whumpee, shut up,” Leader says through gritted teeth.

“But I didn’t finish,” they pout, tipping their head and flashing Whumper a grin. “I was just about to give Whumper some tips. You know, if you want to seem intimidating, you have to work on your tactics sweetie, because right now all you look is pitiful. I’d say you could–”

“Say one more word, sweetie, and I’ll make you pay for each of them with blood,” Whumper says, any trace of a smile gone.

Whumpee only blinks innocently.

“See, this is what I mean, you have to up your captor game, Whumper, you look like–”

“Please excuse them, Whumpee doesn’t know what they are talking about,” Caretaker cuts in, wide eyes locked on Whumper’s. “They do that when they are scared, they don’t mean it. Just tell us what you want for our freedom.”

“What? I am not scared, I'm biting my tongue trying not to laugh–”

“Whumpee stop,” Healer says from their side. It’s barely a whisper, but it carries all of their fear, and Whumpee feels it like a punch to their gut. Their fault. That fear is their fault.

“As I was saying, you look pathetic Whumper, and–”

A hand around their throat stops them this time, pushing them back against the wall with a loud thud. Whumper looks down at Whumpee as they squeeze, only tight enough for Whumpee to know who’s in control.

The team loses it. Three screams sound at the same time and through the corner of their eyes, Whumpee sees Leader, Caretaker, and Healer throwing themselves forward, only to be held back by the waiting guards.

“Go on Whumpee. Tell me all about how pathetic I am.”

They open their mouth, but only a breathless gasp leaves their lips. Whumper smirks.

“Not so funny anymore, huh?”

They open their mouth again, and this time, Whumpee spits right at Whumper’s face – saliva hits and stays on their nose. Whumpee smirks back.

Whumper blinks once before letting Whumpee fall to the ground clutching their throat and fighting for air. They look up just in time to see Whumper wiping the spit away.

“Please, they don’t know what they are doing!” Caretaker shouts, thrashing against the two guards that hold their arms.

With a wave of their hand, Whumper sends one of their guards to grab Whumpee by the arms and pull them up, shoving them toward the door when they don’t resist.

“Whumper! If you want to hurt one of us, take me. Torture me if you will, I won’t fight,” Leader says in a calm voice that barely betrays the fear underneath the words. Whumpee can still see the stiffness on their shoulders and the clenching of their jaw, though. Whumper can too.

“We’ll give you what you want, just don’t touch them,” Healer tries.

Whumper simply turns to the door.

“Don’t worry, I’ll give them back to you,” Whumper says over their shoulder. “As soon as I’ve taught them a lesson or two on how to treat their betters.”

Whumpee doesn’t look back when their team shouts threats and pleads behind them. The mere idea of how much despair must be etched on each of their faces is enough for Whumpee to feel tears pricking their eyes. They are the reason their team was captured, Whumpee tells themself as they hear the door lock behind their back. It is only fair for Whumpee to be the one to hurt.

They aren’t taken far. A door right beside the cell is opened for them, and all Whumpee does when they are pushed inside is suck in a sharp breath and square their shoulders.

“Where are all the jokes now, Whumpee?” Whumper enters the room right behind them and flips the light switch.

The room isn’t big – it’s about the same size as the cell. The only addition to the new one is a small cabinet on the side and a mirrored wall. Whumpee doesn’t dare look at the stains on the floor that look disturbingly like dry blood.

The guard places Whumpee in front of the mirror, and there they stay.

“Jokes?” they repeat, mock shock lacing the words, “I was trying to help you be a better bad guy and you call it jokes? This is exactly why you look like such a–”

“Say one more word, and I’ll have my men bring Caretaker here instead of you.”

The words die on their tongue, swallowed along with the bitterness of fear.

“Ah. I thought that might be it,” Whumper nods, pacing around the room. “You got them captured and now you want to make up for it, huh?”

“And then people say I’m the one who can’t stop talking,” Whumpee rolls their eyes, trying to ignore the squeeze in their heart.

“Do you see that mirror behind me, Whumpee?” They do. It’s the one right in front of them, of course they do. “That is a one-way glass. Do you know what that means?”

“My team is watching this,” they breathe, looking at the mirror for the first time. Only their wide eyes look back.

“Yes. Pity we can’t hear them,” Whumper takes a step closer, stopping right in front of Whumpee. “Because I bet they’ll scream beautifully when I do this,” they say as their closed fist flies into Whumpee’s stomach, making them gasp and double over in pain.

Whumper chuckles and steps away as Whumpee holds back a moan and leans against the wall to keep standing.

“Now, what are we going to do about all those insults?” Whumper muses, crossing their arms and staring at Whumpee as they fight to breathe.

“How about you let my team fucking go and then–“

“Did I allow you to talk, Whumpee?”

Whumpee looks up and bares their teeth. “I don’t need your permission to fucking talk, you fucking creep.”

“Alright, I know where to start. Whumpee, kneel.”

They only laugh. A genuine laugh, that shakes their shoulders and shoos fear away for the time it lasts. “Yeah, right.”

“You can kneel, or I can whip you until you can’t stand anymore. It’s your choice,” Whumper says.

“And you can kiss my ass. That’s all the choices I’m giving you though,” Whumpee smirks, straightening up.

Their captor sighs, but instead of keeping their promise, they tip their head to the side and smile back.

“Let me rephrase this. Whumpee, kneel, or I can whip Caretaker until they can’t stand anymore. And then I will whip Leader. And sweet Healer last, just so I can hear their lovely screams while the others have their backs ruined.”

The sound of Whumpee’s knees hitting the floor echoes around the room, but it doesn’t hurt as much as the idea of their team being hurt in their place. Neither does Whumper’s laugh.

They only watch as Whumper goes to the cabinet and takes something from the drawer. Something made of leather.

“Put it on,” Whumper says, handing it to Whumpee. They laugh when they look at it, but this time there’s only incredulity in the sound.

“You want me to put on a muzzle?”

Whumper raises their eyebrows.

“No fucking way,” Whumpee says, throwing the thing on the floor.

“Did you know that I can have the air passages to your team’s cell closed, Whumpee?” Whumper looks back over their shoulder at the mirror. As if Whumpee could forget that their family is watching this. As if they could ignore the despair they know they are all feeling. “How long do you think it’ll take until they pass out? How long until the air goes out completely and they start convulsing on the floor, fighting for one last breath that you didn’t allow them to take?”

Tears sting their eyes, and though Whumpee fights them, they can’t help the shiver that runs down their spine.

“I bet they would forgive you. They don’t even blame you for getting caught, do they? But you and I both know that all of this is your fault. You already took their liberty, will you take their lives now too? In the name of what, dignity?”

Whumpee looks down at the muzzle, thrown between Whumper’s feet and their knees. Pictures themself putting it on. They feel sick.

“Guards!” Whumper calls, and pure dread fills Whumpee’s veins.

Whumpee reaches for the muzzle. It feels cold in their hands, but the fear feels even colder when they look up at the mirror, watching themself kneeling on the floor, holding the muzzle in their shackled hands. What is their team thinking? Are they screaming and fighting to get to them? Are they watching in silent horror?

“Let’s see what’s more important to you. Your dignity, or their safety?” Whumper’s eyes are locked on Whumpee’s when they look up.

“If I do this, will you promise me you won’t hurt them?”

“Oh no, I’m not promising you anything, dear. Where did that idea come from? You insulted me in front of my men and my prisoners. Every time you open your mouth I debate cutting your tongue off. Why would I make you any promises?”

“Why would I do this if you'll hurt them anyway?” Whumpee snarls, clasping the leather and clenching their jaw.

“Guards, cut the team’s air off,” Whumper commands, eyes still boring into Whumpee’s with disturbing intensity. Drinking in their panic.

“Wait–”

“On second thought, bring me Caretaker first. I want to see this one scream for their family before they are all dead.”

“Whumper, I’ll–”

“Bring the whip along with them. We’ll have some fun.”

“Whumper, please–”

“What are their lives worth to you, Whumpee? Really? What would you do to save them? Because it sounds to me like you wouldn’t so much as put on a muzzle, so please tell me, what would you do for them?”

“I’ll do anything!” Whumpee yells, choking on the images Whumper painted so, so terribly vividly. On guilt. On love. “I’ll do anything, just don’t fucking touch them.”

“Well, then why am I still hearing your voice?” Whumper croons, nodding at their hands. Though Whumpee can see the amusement in their eyes, all they think about is their team’s screams when they were taken from the cell as they raise the muzzle to their face. With their family's voices sounding in their mind, echoing with each beat of their heart, they find that it isn't hard to do it at all.

It’s with Caretaker’s soft murmurs when Whumpee has trouble falling asleep in their ears that they bite on the bit. Leader’s gentle hands guiding Whumpee to the correct position when they were learning how to fight is the memory that guides them as they fasten the muzzle behind their own head. And it is with Healer’s affectioned smile whenever Whumpee asks them to bandage the most meaningless wounds shining in their mind that they hold still when Whumper places a finger under their chin and tilts their chin up.

“Look,” Whumper whispers, shifting to the side so Whumpee can see their reflection in the mirror. So their team can see it too.

Their eyes shine with unshed tears. They had never realized how small they look when they aren’t using their words to make themself bigger. How their wrists look so very thin surrounded by metal. But there’s only so much Whumpee can look at before their eyes fall on the muzzle.

It covers half of their face, stiff leather locking their mouth shut. They look… defeated. Young. They look so terribly young with that thing covering their mouth, only big scared eyes and empty defiance left.

“So much prettier when you’re quiet,” Whumper sighs, letting out a low chuckle. “Why don’t we work on the lack of respect, now?”

When they unsheathe a knife and let the sharp tip shine near Whumpee’s face, they can’t help but pull away with a scared whine. The guards are there in an instant to hold them still as Whumper laughs out loud and presses the blade against Whumpee’s chest, delighting in their muffled screams as it draws a line of blood across their skin.

On the other side of the mirror, though Whumpee can't hear them, their team screams themselves hoarse as they watch Whumpee’s blood run and pool around them. They don’t stop even after Whumpee is left in a bloody, sobbing heap on the floor for them to stare at.

-

Prompts from this list

“Good morning, Whumpee.” Whumper walked into the room, letting the door fall closed behind them. Their hands were clasped behind their back in a businesslike fashion.

Whumpee shifted in the confines of their cage, short enough that they had to sit- or kneel, by Whumper’s demand- and suspended in the air at about waist height. They had been left there for long enough that they didn’t know how much time had passed. That being said, they were a little salty.

“Found the time to visit? I thought you were far too busy. I’m not getting in the way of your appointments, am I?” They reclined in their cage as much as they were able to, pretending like the bars didn’t dig into their back.

“Oh, don’t worry, I cleared my whole schedule. I want to take my time with you.”

“How considerate.” Whumpee took a deep breath and yawned, hopefully looking bored. “Sadly, something came up while you were away, and I actually have to cancel on you. I hope you can understand. Which way to the exit?”

“You talk too much.” Whumper frowned, though the lack of any actual anger sent red flags flooding through Whumpee. “Luckily, I have just the thing to break you of that.”

They unclasped their hands from behind their back, revealing a leather muzzle dangling from their fingers.

Whumpee slammed themselves as far away as possible. The cage swayed unsteadily on its chain. “Absolutely not- you are not putting that thing on me.”

Whumper took a step closer, eyes glinting as Whumpee shrank further into themselves. “Oh, doll, do you think it’s a choice you get to make? What have I told you?”

Whumpee swallowed heavily. “I belong to you. I exist to- to please you.”

Whumper hummed in agreement and reached out.

“But- but you said you like to hear me scream,” Whumpee said desperately. They cringed at the flimsy argument, hating themselves for it. Hating themselves for the warring inside of them between obedience and rebellion. Hating that they were considering obeying at all.

“Oh, I do.” Whumper grinned. “And believe me, I will make you scream soon enough. But today I want to see you obeying me, and to do that, I can’t have you talking back.”

Whumpee’s breath caught in their throat. As they stared at the piece of leather in Whumper’s hand, everything else seemed to fall away. They suddenly couldn’t gather much thought past the repetition of what it was, trying to make sense of it. It was a muzzle. A muzzle. Like you would put on a dog that bit someone. The thought of wearing one was humiliating and degrading and so very wrong.

Their vision blurred.

“Whumpee? You still with me?”

Fingers snapped in front of their nose. They jumped, flinching. Whumper laughed and ran a thumb over their face. Whumpee quivered under the intimate contact that held them at the edge of panic. The hand drew back, and they found themselves leaning forward after it for half a second, desperate for the small comfort it provided. They quickly stopped themselves and pulled back again.

Whumper clicked their tongue. “Don’t pull back, you were being so good. Sweet. Come here for me, so I can put this on you.”

“I- please. No,” they whispered. Their eyes ached from holding back tears. They tried to muster up some courage, to say something clever, but nothing came to mind. They were numb with fear. Somehow, wearing that muzzle seemed like accepting Whumper’s crazy notions. If they couldn’t actively argue with Whumper, how long would it be before they started to believe them?

“Don’t be difficult.”

“It’s not being difficult for me to- I’m not a dog! You can’t make me wear that!”

Whumper raised their eyebrows, unimpressed. “You belong to me, don’t you? I can make you do anything I want, and it’s time you learn that. It’s perfectly reasonable for me to keep my belongings in line. Now, come here.”

Whumper’s tone edged into dangerous territory- the voice they used when they were done with Whumpee’s disobedience, and it would be punished if it continued.

Whumpee ground their teeth together and leaned forward, inches from the front bars of their cage. Whumper’s hands slid through, holding the muzzle.

They tapped Whumpee’s chin. “Open up.”

Whumpee did, closing their eyes. The bit slid into their mouth, weighing heavily on their tongue and not letting their mouth close properly. The leather stretched tightly over their face, digging into their cheeks and pulling at their hair while it was fastened behind their head. It would leave red marks, if not bruises.

Through the leather they felt Whumper’s hand on their face again, running possessive lines over them. Whumpee opened their eyes, shuddering at the sight of Whumper’s adoring grin.

“Oh, that silence is beautiful. I thought I’d like the sight of you like this, but this… you’re just so precious, Whumpee. With your eyes all wide and scared. That little crease between your eyebrows. You can’t talk back to me, can’t defend yourself. I might just have to keep you like this.”

Whumpee’s heart wrenched. Their eyes pooled with tears that fell before they could do anything about it. The tension seeped out of their muscles, leaving them empty and numb and wracked with sobs.

Whumper sighed dreamily and crouched level with them, cupping Whumpee’s face in their hands.

“How lovely,” Whumper murmured to them, tilting their face upward. “I can’t wait to see you break for me.”

Whumpee sagged against the bars, limp and pliable in Whumper’s hands.

——-

Tag list: @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @twistedcaretaker @lonesome--hunter

Message me if you want to be added or removed!