Whumpmas In July #5 - Who Is Your Favourite Whumpee?

Me // Whumpee // Whumper

Thought this was really fun and wanted to join in :>

I have no one to tag, but have a go if you see this <3

new whumpblr game:

make your regular self and yourself as a whumpee or whumper (whichever you relate to most) in this picrew! here’s me & me as a whumpee :)

idk who to tag, anyone feel free to jump in!

I’ll Give All I Have

Fair warning guys, this one is really long! I don’t know how it got this long, but it did. 

The Whumptober prompt for this was Forced Mutism. I’d like to thank both @jinmukangwrites​ and @fidothefinch​ for being two enablers. 

Characters: Jason & Damian, some minor Bruce and Dick

Words: 10,261

Summary:

“The little one will do.”

“No!” Jason cried, tugging at his restraints as he tried to push himself forward, “Leave him be! Whatever you’re doing, it’s me who’s been after you not him. He’s got nothing to do with this.”

The smile the man gave Jason sent chills down his spine, “Exactly.”

~

Jason pulled his legs a little closer to his body and tugged at the cuffs on his wrists again, trying for what felt like the millionth time to get his hand to squeeze through. He was pretty close, they hadn’t tightened them incredibly tight, and Jason thought that maybe if he dislocated his thumb or broke it he could maybe slip them off.

He gave up for the time being, letting his hands flop to the ground, the metal of the cuffs clinking against the concrete. Even if he could get them off and get out of this far too tiny closet, Jason had no idea where they were keeping Damian. The last thing he was doing was leaving here without his kid brother.

If there was anything Jason was confident in, it was that Robin was still alive, and probably just as fine as he was. The guys who’d grabbed them could have easily killed them when the fight had gone sideways, but instead they’d been tied up and dragged here, to some kind of processing plant, with Robin being dragged in one direction, and Jason another.

There were a couple things to take from this, one the men hadn’t really cared whether or not Jason knew where he was being taken, and they hadn’t bruised either of them up more than was necessary. Though, to be fair, in both their cases they’d fought tooth and nail, so that was almost a negligible fact.

Whatever was going on, Mr. Evil Bossman, AKA Barnes, had a plan for Red Hood and Robin, and while Jason didn’t like the idea of sitting around waiting, he liked the idea of causing trouble and getting Robin killed even less.

Keep reading

A trope I adore: not only a drugged Whumpee, but the act of drugging Whumpee.

Pinning Whumpee’s arm to the ground or a table, keeping them still enough to push the needle into their arm

Causing a sharp, sudden pain that makes Whumpee cry out, their mouth opened just long enough to shove a pill inside—then holding a hand over Whumpee’s nose and mouth until they swallow or suffocate

Forcing Whumpee to drink something they know is laced (or don’t)

Waving a strong chemical beneath an unconscious or exhausted Whumpee’s nose, and watching the effects hit their system almost immediately

Making Whumpee finish a suspiciously chalky meal

Restraining Whumpee and hooking them up to a constant drip of fluids meant to keep them docile. Bonus: Whumpee fighting tooth and nail to keep the needle from their arm because they know—once it’s in, there’s no chance to escape

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

16th hour — #2 Marked

Masterlist/ Previous

CW: themes of captivity, violence, sexual assault(not detailed) , and dehumanization.

Samuel's consciousness flickered like a sputtering candle as he awoke in the dim, grim confines of the transport truck. His limbs felt leaden, the remnants of the sedative dulling his senses. The air was thick with a pungent mix of sweat and despair.

He wasn't alone. As his vision cleared, he saw others huddled in the cramped space, their faces reflecting the same horror and helplessness that he felt.

A stifled sob drew Samuel's attention to a girl about his age, her shoulders shaking with each breath. Her eyes were red and swollen, tears carving tracks down her grimy freckled cheeks. Across from her, a boy thrashed against his cuffs, his voice a raw scream of defiance and fury.

"Fuck this! Let me out, you bastards! You can't do this to us! We're people, not animals!" His words bounced off the metal walls, unanswered.

"You fucking bastards! Let me out! Let me out!" His shoulders pounded against the walls of the truck, the sound echoing in the confined space. "I'll kill you! I'll fucking kill you all!"

In the opposite corner, another boy had a girl pinned against the side of the truck, his intentions horrifyingly clear. Her terrified whimpers and pleas for mercy filled the air. He wanted to move, to stop the atrocity, but his limbs felt like lead, the sedative still dulling his reflexes.

"N-No, please... don't..." she begged, her voice breaking.

The boy's eyes were wild, filled with a mix of panic and desire. "Shut up! We're nothing now anyways. Might as well enjoy myself for the last time."

Samuel's stomach churned with a mix of fear and revulsion. He forced himself to move, his voice a raspy whisper. "Don't."

The boy turned his head towards Samuel, his eyes narrowing in anger. "Stay out of this pretty boy."

The girl looked desperately at Samuel, tears going down her eyes. Desperation fueled his movements. He stumbled forward, his body protesting every step. He threw himself at the big-bodied boy, their bodies colliding in a tangle of limbs. They hit the floor hard, the impact jarring Samuel's already aching side.

The boy looked like he was about to punch Samuel if only his hands weren't cuffed behind him. The attacker snarled, his hands closing around Samuel's throat. "You should have stayed out of it, hero." His grip tightened, cutting off Samuel's air. Spots danced in his vision as he struggled, his hands clawing at the man's wrists.

Just when the other boy could take any other action, the truck lurched to a stop, throwing everyone off balance.

The doors swung open, blinding light flooding the space. Uniformed men began pulling the captives out one by one, their expressions devoid of compassion. The girl that was about to almost get raped by the boy mouthed a thank you though it seemed broken.

The outside world was a stark contrast to the darkness of the truck. They were in a large, enclosed compound, the high fences topped with barbed wire. The air was thick with the cries and shouts of other captives, a symphony of suffering.

He was lined up with the others, their fates hanging by a fragile thread. The compound was a cacophony of fear and confusion. Captives of all ages and backgrounds milled about, their expressions a mix of shock, anger, and hopelessness. The sobs of "I don't deserve to be here." and lifeless voices of "Why am I here...?"had filled the room.

A stern-looking man in a uniform walked down the line, his cold eyes assessing each captive with dispassionate precision. He was flanked by guards, their expressions as hard and unforgiving as the concrete beneath their feet.

"Why are you doing this to us?!!" A guy demanded, her voice shaking from anger and fear. "YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO US!!"

Somehow seeing this rose up the voices of other people, as they tried pushing and breaking the cuffs behind them. The middle-aged man simply hummed, before swishing his hand to a guard.

The uniformed man smiled looking over at the clipboard in his hand, but the smile was a cruel, empty expression. "You're 'L,'" he said, his tone filled with proffesionality.

Before he could respond, a guard stepped forward, a branding iron in his hand, its tip glowing red-hot. The boy screamed as the iron seared his flesh, the stench of burning skin filling the air. His cries echoed through the compound, a harrowing reminder of their new reality. The guy buckled to his knees with small sobs, unable to hold his weight any longer as some officers dragged him away. The branding had left a cruel "L" on his shoulder, marking him less than human.

The other captives recoiled in horror, the entire place filling with uncomfortable silence. Some were weeping openly, others staring in stunned silence. Samuel's heart pounded in his chest, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps. He knew his turn was coming, and the thought of that searing pain made his stomach churn with dread.

After a few torturing hours, his legs were basically throbbing with pain from standing for too long. The line had been going on, with the man marking with certain people as "L", "B" or "S", which was followed with agonizing screaming and crying that managed to send a flinch down Samuel's spine every time. He tried thinking about what they could've meant but every time he was interrupted by either shouting or the cracking of a taser when people became too violent.

"Step forward," the guard commanded, his eyes locking onto Samuel.

Samuel's legs felt like they were filled with lead, but he forced himself to move. He stumbled forward, his entire body trembling. The guard with the branding iron stepped up, the heat radiating from the iron making Samuel's skin prickle. The stout man looked at Samuel, and was just about to say something before Samuel cut him off.

"Can I ask something?" He blubbered out before he mentally slapped himself for thinking without speaking. The man only raised his eyebrow in question and signed his hand in a way as if to say 'go on.'

"I-Its just.. I-I thought the ones who were classified as livestock w-were the ones who were from lower class.." Samuel couldn't help but think how egoistic he must've sounded but right now that was the least of his worries.

"Samuel. Samuel Dawson. Son of Edward Dawson and Juli Wood. Mother passed away on your birth so your Father married Camila Fletcher. Your mother was classified as livestock." Samuel basically froze, his mind struggling to process what the man just said. He had been livestock by birth..?

The man simply smiled at Samuel, continuing with his now torturing claims. "Spotted many a time taking pity on livestock. Having arguments about livestock having rights. Secret letters to the government as well to consider dropping down the livestock system. My, my Mr. Dawson. And you ask why you're livestock."

The man laughed, though Samuel didn't think it was funny. "We cannot have anyone disrupting our system. It is the way it is and it will be as so in the future as well."

Before he could react, the man nodded and the guard pressed the branding iron against Samuel's shoulder. The pain was instantaneous and excruciating, a fiery agony that made him scream until his voice was raw. His vision blurred with tears, the world narrowing to the searing torment and the smell of his own burning flesh.

When the iron was pulled away, Samuel collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath. He was dimly aware of the others being branded, their screams mingling with his own. The agony in his shoulder was overwhelming, a constant, burning reminder of his new status. He looked at his shoulder, and the disgusting sight of broken flesh and blood among a red covered "L" made him want to puke.

Just when he thought it was over, the man in the uniform frowned, looking at the mark on Samuel's shoulder. He gestured to another guard, who approached with a different branding iron, this one marked with an "S".

"No no nononno!!" Samuel tried backing away. What the fuck was going on?! He already got branded! Fuck he can't do this again!!

"There's been a mistake," the man said, his voice devoid of any hint of apology or compassion. "You're not an 'L.' You're a 'S'."

Samuel barely had time to comprehend the words before the second branding iron was heated. Unlike the first guard, this one moved more methodically, examining Samuel's shoulder for a spot not marred by the initial brand.

Before Samuel could react, the second branding iron pressed against a fresh part of his shoulder, the tip glowing with the same cruel heat. The second iron seared into his flesh with a new level of agony, the pain even more unbearable as the two brands burned into his skin. He screamed again, the sound raw and primal, tears streaming down his face as he felt his consciousness waver.

Samuel's vision swam with spots, the pain overwhelming his senses. When the iron was finally removed, he collapsed completely, his body unable to take any more. His mind drifted in and out of consciousness, snippets of conversation filtering through the haze of pain.

"Get him to the holding for 'S' class." He heard someone say, but he couldn't see who it was. The words were getting more distant or was it the people who were? There was a strange ringing in his ears and he could feel something cold dripping down his arm. He tried to lift his head, to see who was speaking, but his body felt heavy and unresponsive.

The coldness spread through his veins, numbing the agony, but leaving him disoriented and weak.

Samuel's breath came in shallow gasps, his chest rising and falling with effort. His eyelids grew heavy, the world tilting dangerously around him. The voices of the guards and the other captives melted into a distant murmur, fading into the background like an elusive dream.

And then, with a final, desperate attempt to stay conscious, Samuel succumbed to the overwhelming exhaustion and pain. His body slumped forward, darkness swallowing him whole.

He had always been scared of the dark but this time he felt comfort in it. As if it was keeping it away from the troubles that seemed to keep mounting up on him.

Taglist: @anutz1234 @ash-reh @whumped-by-glitter @catnykit @morning-star-whump

@paperprinxe @octopus-reactivated @whumpdemonium @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @noeul-whumpppss

@nuriiz134 @fox-fox234 @carosbee @writingphoenix @carolinethedragon

@birch-pictures@fable-bug-real @possumhoe @evagran @somebody327

@someoneoninternettt @classyanchorlove @kiratheperson @boahamcock @pyromaiow

@imarandomgamer @edward-mybeloved @skribl @aleki-lives-here @roskarovio

@pentagramstars @ossknsma @abbyreader23 @cluelesscameraman @alphabet-egg

@whumpifi @cheesemctoastnuggets @deputydeputyp @thelazywitchphotographer @isntthisblank

@demetercabingreen-thumb @noeul-whumpppssssss1234(let me know if you want to be added or removed <3)

Reblogs are appreciated :)

could you do some begging whump dialogue, please

Hiya! I'd LOVE to.

I wasn’t sure on what format you want this in, so I'm going to do a scene. I 100% expect this to run away with me, so I apologize in advance for that lol.

[Edit: Yup it absolutely go out of hand lol. I hope you enjoy regardless!]

.

Learning to Beg

[tw: whipping, strangulation, blood loss]

The whip cracked hard against Whumpee's stomach. The skin split that time. They groaned, sagging against the chains that twisted their wrists high above their head. Somehow, it hurt even worse on their front. Whumper had turned them a few minutes prior, saying their back was sufficiently welted and cut. Flipped them like a fucking pancake and started working on the other side.

"Still not going to say it?" Whumper mused, coiling the whip and stepping up to Whumpee's shivering form. "I'm really not asking for much, here."

Whumpee dragged their eyes from the floor, glaring at Whumper. "I'm not begging. I'm not your fucking dog."

Whumper's eyes narrowed, curious. They gently tipped up Whumpee's chin with the coiled whip. "You sure about that?"

Whumpee managed a small, annoyed sigh even with their ribs burning in protest. "It's not going to happen. I'd die before begging you for anything, psycho."

Whumper gave a small smile. "Well considering the fact that you're still talking, I think you can take quite a bit more before you're at the breaking point. But..." They stepped away, considering.

Whumpee saw a spark light up in their eyes. That was…unsettling.

Whumper turned away, smiling. "If you're so sure you won't break, I believe you. No point in fussing with it anymore."

Whumper tossed the whip into the corner. It skittered and unraveled as it came to a rest against the wall. It left tiny streaks of blood across the ground wherever it touched. Whumpee stared at it. "Wha-what do you mean?"

Whumper headed for the door, "Just what I said. No more whip. You're clearly not going to beg for me, so I'll go work on someone who will."

Whumpee's eyes widened. Caretaker.

But they were practically still bleeding from yesterday...Whumper wouldn't.

Whumper stepped out of the room.

They would.

Whumpee pulled against the chains. Their ripped and swollen skin screamed in response, but they kept twisting and wrihting, trying to get a hand free.

Whumper returned moments later, dragging Caretaker by one arm. They could barely keep up, stumbling and dizzy from blood loss. Whumper hadn't even bothered to restrain them. Caretaker's eyes met theirs, frantic and wide for just a moment before they blinked it away. They gave Whumpee a small, reassuring smile, but their eyes couldn't quite match it.

"What are you doing? You'll kill them!" Whumpee jolted against the chains, but they still wouldn't budge. Of course they wouldn't.

Whumper grinned, pulling Caretaker in front of them to face Whumpee. "Quite possibly. They're much closer to the breaking point than you are."

Whumpee's hands itched to reach out and touch Caretaker. They were so close. Whumpee could probably kick them if they tried, but that's not exactly reassuring or helpful.

"It's okay, Whumpee. It's cool. Don't worry about me." They stood tall as soon as they found their balance, but their voice was shaking. Caretaker was always the strong one. They were never afraid. This was wrong. So so very wrong.

Whumper wriggled one arm behind Caretaker's elbows, pinning their arms back with little resistance. They grimaced as Whumper's other hand slithered up to their throat. Caretaker scoffed, "Geez, ever heard of personal space?"

Whumper ignored them, looking to Whumpee. "So, what's it gonna be?"

Whumpee pulled again against the chains, their eyes burning a hole through Whumper. "Don't you dare. Don't you dare hurt them."

Whumper smirked. Careker's eyes went wide as the hand squeezed around their neck.

"No!" Whumpee tried to control their breathing. Tried to not look panicked. "Don't. Leave them out of this! You've done enough!"

Whumper laughed in response. Caretaker started to writhe. Their face was turning red already. "Apparently I haven't." They squeezed tighter, and Caretaker started to panic. They struggled and twisted, but Whumper held them still with little effort.

Whumpee stared, desperate to move, to help, to do anything. All they could do was pull against their bruised wrists more.

"Oh, now this is fun," Whumper chuckled. "Again, I'm not asking for much. I just want you to beg a little."

Whumpee's head spun as Caretaker choked and hissed. Their eyes were starting to lose focus. So fast. Way too fast. Caretaker wasn't in any state to handle this shit.

"Okay! Fine!"Whumpee sputtered. "Please! Please jut let them go."

Whumper smiled at that. “Hmm…” Their hand didn't move. "I don't think that's good enough."

"Wh-what!?" Caretaker's struggling was starting to slow, their jerks were turning into lethargic writhing. Whumpee growled, "What do you mean not good enough!"

"Well, you refused to beg me to stop hurting you before, so I think now you should beg me to hurt you instead of them. I think that would even the scores, don't you?"

"Fuck you."

Whumper smiled in response, their fingers not loosening even a little as Caretaker sagged against them. Whumpee panicked. "Come on, let go. They're passing out, you're going to fucking kill them if you don't let go!"

Whumper clicked their tongue. "Those aren't the words I wanted to hear," they chastised.

Caretaker's eyes went dark as they stumbled down, held up only by Whumper's grip. Whumper was really willing to let Caretaker die. Inches in front of them.

"Okay fine! Please, let them go. Hurt me instead. Whip me. Make me scream - whatever you want. Just let them go, I'm begging you!"

Whumper smirked. "Good timing, I could feel their pulse slipping." Caretaker crumpled to the ground as Whumper stepped back.

They weren't moving.

Fuck they weren't breathing. Whumpee stopped breathing too.

Whumpee looked frantically between Caretaker's crumpled form and Whumper, who was also staring at Caretaker.

Whumper raised their eyebrows at Caretaker, expectant.

Nothing. They checked their watch. Whumpee jerked against the chains uselessly.

Whumper gave Caretaker a swift kick.

Caretaker gasped to life as the boot collided with their spine.

"Ah. There we go."

Whumper stepped over them, heading toward the discarded whip. Caretaker rolled onto their stomach, coughing and sputtering, gasping for air.

Whumpee took in a deep, shaky breath. They were okay. It was fine. Everything was fine. For now.

Whumpee chanced a whisper. They could hardly breathe. "You good?"

Caretaker coughed again and rolled onto their back. "Yeah. Peachy." their voice was horse. Barely functional. More a whisper than anything.

"I'm so sorry."

Caretaker tried to clear their throat, choking on the sound. They managed an amused smile, their eyes still unfocused. "Don't be. You know I'm into the choking thing."

Whumpee couldn't bring themselves to laugh when Caretaker was panting on the ground.

Whumper returned with the whip, gripping Caretaker by the arm and dragging them over to the other side of the room. Caretaker didn't even try to fight, they just sagged against the wall, coughing, as Whumper sauntered up to Whumpee.

They reverently draped the whip over Whumpee's neck like they were presenting them with a medal. The cold, wet blood ticked against their bare skin. "Well done. That was very nice." Whumper tipped their chin up with a finger. "Now you're going to beg me to hurt you. Then when you can't take anymore, you're going to beg me to stop."

Whumpee glared at them. "I already fucking begged, we're done."

Whumper smiled. "Have it your way, but if you pass out without begging, I'm going to turn the whip onto Caretaker instead until you wake back up." They glanced at Caretaker who was barely sitting up straight in the corner. "Hopefully you snap out of it before they lose any more blood - I won't stop if they pass out."

Whumpee sputtered. "But I already...but you said-"

"What I said is that I wanted you to beg. And that's what you're going to do."

.

(tags: @whumpawink, @prisonerwhump, @mabledonut)

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.

A few ways to say “I can’t”:

Angry and frustrated “I can’t!”: shouted at someone making another unreasonable request.

Or with regret: they couldn’t help even if they wanted to.

“I can’t, I-” between rapid breaths they can’t control, shaking, unable to calm down.

“I can’t”: Tired and worn out - they have nothing left to give.

Alternatively, spoken like a quiet surrender, finally admitting defeat.

Desperate and pleading; they honestly can’t and fear the consequences.

“I can’t” Choked up and breaking down because everything is too much.

I’m going to print this one out and frame it.

Turning the whumpee’s head

-The whumper grabbing them roughly by the chin and forcing them to look them in the eye

-Or pulling them closer so they can cut/burn/whatever them in just the right spot

-OR carefully turning their head so they can “admire” their work, and the whumpee is either too exhausted or too conditioned to resist despite their gentle touch

-Caretaker trying to turn a semiconscious whumpee’s head to look at a face wound, but they flinch away thinking it’s the whumper

-”Don’t look at them/it. Look at me. Just me. Focus on me and everything will be okay.”

-Caretaker telling a feverish whumpee who’s lying in bed to turn their head to the side so they can hold a cold compress to the back of their neck

-Or so they can clean a wound 

y’all understand

Oh how I love defiantly obedient whumpees. The ones who do what Whumper says but are full of spite. The ones who spit out the word “sir” at the end of each sentence, or wait until Whumper goes to strike before dropping to their knees. The ones who use sarcasm and humor in the worst moments, only succeeding in pissing Whumper off more. I love the ones who do as they’re told, but ensure that Whumper must fight them each step of the way.