#cw branding

[nekioe]

au where c!Dream is a vampire. Because he heals faster none of the torture actually leaves any scares, except for one.

English is not my first languge and I don't write very often. I'm scared, pls be kind

cw/tw: Usual prison stuff, torture, a teeny tiny bit of gore?, mention of vomit but it doesn't actually happen, branding

He keeps no scars from the prison. Except for one. 

One day, Quackity brought one of those irons you use for branding wood. Usually, they're some kind of iron, but not this one. At first, Dream doesn't realize what's happening, Quackity doesn't heat it up in the lava as he’s done before with another iron. Instead he ignores the lava and walks around the chair and stops behind Dream. He tries to keep his breath under control, the anticipation is almost worse then the actual torture, he can’t see what Quackity is doing, he cant prepare himself for whatever pain that’ll come next. 

Then, all of a sudden, the cold metal meets his skin and it burns. Silver. Silver, it’s Silver. He can't stop the scream from escaping his throat as he flinches away, but tight ropes bind him to the chair and Quackity’s hand lashes out and keeps him in place. His skin sizzles as the silver digs into it. It was worse then any torture he’s been through before. the scorching agony as the pure, holy, silver meeting with his twisted flesh, an abomination, a cursed being that should’ve long been dead. He can't think, he burns and he tries to grasp for something, anything to stop it but there's nothing he can do. The ropes bind him too tight. He hears a voice crying, sobbing, begging for the pain to stop. And it sounds a bit like him, but it's hard to concentrate as a thousand knives rip through his back simultaneously as it turns to fire.

Suddenly, Quackity stands right in front of him, silver pole in hand. He didn't notice it get retracted, his back still burns and writhes in pain. Ugly sobs wrack his body as he tries to gasp for air he doesn’t really need, for release that won’t come. He just wants this to be over, he just wants this to stop, please just make it stop. He feels fucking pathetic. 

Before him, Quackity holds up the silver piece and quietly observes it, he flicks away a bit of burned flesh that falls and squishes when it collides with the floor. Dream holds back vomit. Quackity wears no gloves. Why would he? he’s human, the silver doesn’t burn him. It only burns impurities, creatures that shouldn't exist yet still do, creatures like Dream. His expression is indifferent as he handles the material, it feels like mockery. Maybe that's the point. Quackity looks up and smirks when he makes eye contact with Dream. Then, he takes a step closer and disappears behind Dream again, and before Dream can even flinch or open his mouth to beg, his back is on fire again. 

Months after the torture and the prison that burn scar still remains. Everything else healed within a day or two, leaving no trace of what had happened, but the silver mark on his back stayed. It serves as a reminder, a branding.

#c!dream #dreblr #dsmp #cw mention of vomit #cw slight gore #cw torture #cw branding #nekioe writing

[whump-in-the-closet]

“This way they’ll know what their place is. A weapon to be drawn or sheathed as I will it.”

“You— you branded them.”

#whump dialogue #whump prompt #whumpblr #whump community #cw branding #whump ideas #whump #human weapon #whumper #caretaker #whumper and caretaker dialogue

[iciclesses]

cw non con + branding

back on my welder Ghost bullshit but him making a brand with his initials just for you,, and the team holding you down <33 shops closed, your screams muffled by a sooty worn leather glove stuffed in your mouth! Hands all over you, pinning your arms to a table as even more hands tear your shirt away to expose your soft skin to Ghost <33 eyes widening with terror as you see the cherry red pole, hearing his men coo and laugh at you, tell you that you'd better hold still- if you mess up the brand, he'll just have to try it again, put it somewhere clean <3

#noel.txt #ghost x reader #141 x reader #cw non con #cw branding #bunny if u see this pls love me

[domreader-headcannon-scenarios]

Kinktober day 14: Master/Slave /Claiming Servant, Diavolo + Barbatos (branding, treating servant like property, pain play, no real smut)

-

“Are you sure you’re comfortable with this?” You asked, carefully adjusting the restraints around Barbatos’ wrist. “If this is an important tradition, I don’t want to butcher it-“

Diavolo interrupted you. “Don’t worry, it’s different when a human does this verses a demon, if you make mistakes there’s no consequences especially given how well trained Barbatos is.” Diavolo ruffled his hair, speaking about his servant like he’s a dog.

“Thank you, young Master.” Barbatos replied quietly, looking ip to you. “You needn’t worry, I wouldn’t have suggested this if I didn’t want it, I want you both to officially be my Masters.”

To think…he’s saying it so calmly when you’re basically going to claim ownership over him along side Diavolo. You carefully adjust to remove his collar, revealing the pale skin underneath. “Do I need to actually leave a mark? Even for a demon this has gotta hurt.”

Barbatos nodded. Diavolo was the one who responded. “It’s to symbolize that he cant leave you, the mark can be healed with magic, but he’ll probably want to keep it, right?”

Barbatos excitedly nodded. “Somewhere I can see it please? I wish to see it everyday.” You don’t miss the smile that goes across his face.

You look him over, his shoulder is too visible, he cant see it if it’s on his back…maybe thigh? “Here?” Your foot nudges his outer thigh. He nodded, quickly undoing his belt and pants and pulling them down just to his knees.

Like this his boxers were exposed, leaving little to the imagination though you’ve seen him naked before. “Leave the iron on his thigh for thirty to sixty seconds, remember he has a safe word if it’s too much.” Diavolo chimed in.

Barbatos braced as soon as you picked the branding iron up. You were wanted to let it cook for a second but if it cooled too much, you’d have to do it again. You press it to his thigh with not much pressure, testing the waters briefly.

He hissed but actually leans into it. “H-harder.” He hissed out with clear discomfort in his tone. “if you don’t use enough pressure, it w-won’t stay.” Barbatos groaned out.

Diavolo grabs your hand, putting enough weight into the iron that made you feel like you’d cause him bruising. To your surprise though, there was a visible tent forming in his boxers.

“See? He likes it.” Diavolo hummed out, notifying you that enough time has passed. You hesitate to pull away now that you know it’s arousing him.

“You enjoyed being marked?” Barbatos nodded, collapsing as soon as you released him. He was panting fast, to your confusion there was a wet spot where his cock head was resting in his boxers. “Shit it looks like you peed yourself a bit.” You nudge his arousal with your foot and earn a moan.

Diavolo checked Barbatos’ branding, grabbing one of the water bottles put aside and pouring it over the wound. Barbatos yelped, jumping a bit before relaxing enough that Diavolo could clean the wound. “Want to keep this?”

Diavolo asked Barbatos, who in turn moaned out a ‘yes’.

#claiming a servant #obey me #polyamarous #Barbatos x reader #Barbatos x mc #Barbatos x reader x Diavolo #diavolo x reader #diavolo x mc #kinktober 23 #kinktober #cw branding

[stuckyfingers]

Poll result: Whipped Winter Latte with Nazi Starbucks Logo

tw: blood, branding, whipping, gore

reference credit: Michele Costantini 

The Crouching Venus is a Hellenistic model of Venus surprised at her bath. Venus crouches with her right knee close to the ground, turns her head to the right and, in most versions, reaches her arm over to cover her breasts.

#boycott starbucks btw #bucky barnes #winter soldier #art #my art #captain america: the winter soldier #hydra trash party #tw blood #tw violence #tw torture #cw nudity #cw gore #cw body horror #cw branding #htp #cw blood #stucky #scars

[chainandfeather]

oops forgot I had this

Branding :)

#my stuff #my art #Ferin OC #Aitherios OC #whump #whumpblr #nonhuman whumpee #whump art #whump tag #branding #cw branding #branding whump

[r0-boat]

Hot Cold

Cw: dubcon, branding(with cig), facefucking, rough sex, smoking, aggressiveness, bondage, sadism, no aftercare, maybe one little forehead kiss.

Grusha x Male! Reader Commission for @spideroni ~ thank you so much for your support I hope you enjoy

Wc: 1.7k

The air was cold, and not because of a blizzard raging outside. No, it was your pissy boyfriend who recently has been acting strange.

Coming home after work, he had been really short with you. Giving you attitude, whether it was passive or aggressive, or sometimes ignoring you outright. Grusha would rather storm outside and have a cigarette than have a damn conversation with you, and it was getting on your nerves as well. You weren't aware that you were dating a damn child.

You thought just giving him some time to himself would help him cool off, but nothing has changed, and you're growing tired of his attitude toward you.

Grusha idly sat on the couch with his phone. His phone rings, he grumbled even though the weather was deemed too dangerous to go to work. It seemed that he'll never catch a break. Seeing the chairwoman's name, he clenched his teeth but took the call, switching in his native tongue. Whether it was the water running in front of you, or the fact that he was speaking Spanish, you couldn't hear the entire thing when you started the water for the dishes. You hadn't really started tuning in until the phone call was pretty much over. He growled, casting his phone to the side as soon as he ended the call, putting a hand over his face.

He leaned forward on the couch agitated and bounced his leg, his eyes glancing over at the door and the window cursing under his breath as the violent snow storm still raged outside.

You're washing the dishes, and from your peripheral vision, you saw your boyfriend took out a cigarette and lit it.

This was your breaking point.

"Could you not smoke in the house?"

Grusha completely ignores you, rolling his eyes.

"Hey!" You say a little louder.

Grusha clicked his tongue, muttering something under his breath, cigarette still in his mouth.

"Can I please get an explanation on why you've been acting more like an asshole than usual?"

Grusha pinches the bridges of his nose. He could already feel the migraine coming, having just got off the phone with the chairwoman.

"Could you atleast try not to be annoying today of all days?" Your boyfriend hissed. Usually, Grusha was used to handling anything by himself. However, the chairwoman constantly got on his back about his Pokemon battling career and the status of his gym. This slowly ate away his patience.

And that pretty face of yours being so bratty did not help. His patience was a thinning thread, and he was this close to turn your body and all its holes into a stress toy.

Without a word, he gets up from the couch, the cigarettes still between his fingers, making his way to the shared bedroom.

You watched him leave when he finally left the living room. Now deciding to follow him, he made an exasperated sigh, turning off the water and leaving the dishes half done, choosing to follow your boyfriend to the bedroom.

He puts the half-lit cigarette on the ashtray and watches as you practically barge through the door.

"Hey, I wasn't done–" You could have been nicer but in all honesty you weren't really having the best week either.

"If you keep nagging at me like that, I'm going to put your mouth to good use," Grusha growls, his icy blue eyes frozen over with bitterness.

You were taken back by his comment; anger at his witty retort bubbled within you while butterflies fluttered in your stomach. "Doll.. I am not in the mood to talk. I'm giving you one chance - just one - to leave me alone before I fold you over this bed and take out months of bottled-up anger and stress onto your body."

After a couple minutes of silence ignoring the warmth spreading across your face. You sealed your fate. "That doesn't mean you can smoke in the house–"

He grabs you by the collar, pushing you down onto the bed, grabbing a scarf as he climbs on top of you. You grab ahold of his arm, trying to shove his body off you, yet he doesn't budge. You twist and turn, trying to wiggle away from underneath him, all useless. The ex-pro athlete made sure to work hard to keep his form. You were not going to gain the upper hand and you lost the moment you picked a fight.

He secures your hands behind your back with a scarf, flipping you over on your stomach. Your eyes widen hearing the fabric of your clothing being ripped off of you, the man above you chuckled darkly, almost mocking you.

"Oh my, what happened to all that fire before?"

You pulled at the scarf with your arms, trying to unravel the knot with what you could work with. He watches you struggle with a sadistic smile on his face before flipping you on your back.

"It seems that you have forgotten your place," Grusha purrs, placing the cigarette back between his lips, inhaling and blowing smoke into your face. "You don't own me. I own you."

The cigarette bud hovered above your chest, your eyes widened at the burning. Your chest heaved as his hand wrapped around your throat, putting down pressure. You grit your teeth, growling in pain, feeling the sting of the hot cigarette right against your chest. His knee parts your legs, pressing right down on your crotch.

He goes for another puff from his cigarette, his leg rubbing harder against your covered cock. Your breath shakes from the friction. It starts to become addictive, the heat pooling into your loins.

Finally he hears you sing your moans of pain and pleasure. When he presses the hot cigarette onto another spot of your body, this time on your collarbone. It was just barely high enough for you to cover it tomorrow. Your toes curl at the hot pain, your back arching when you put more pressure onto your swelling bulge as soon as he makes contact.

He pulls your pants down, your breath shook, feeling his hand squeeze your balls before immediately colliding it with your soft ass. Taking you by surprise, you bite back a squeal and stifle back further sounds as he begins striking it over and over you. However, leaving your ass red wasn't enough. 

He bit his lip, his cock stirring in his pants when a delicious, devilish thought popped into his mind. He takes another puff of the cigarette, you cry out his name, feeling the hot burning sensation on your ass cheek, this time; he traces the letters of his name right on the flesh, branding you as his property. 

Grusha was satisfied for now, idly leaving the cigarette between two of his fingers, occasionally taking another breath in. Chuckling when his eyes met your pleading ones.

"You were so talkative before. What happened?" He smirked, his hands gliding upon your body as he maneuvers you to face him. Your eyes fell upon his crotch and his fingers diligently worked to take off his belt and pants.

"No matter, I did say I was going to put that mouth to good use, and I am a man of my word." He takes his already-hardening cock out of his pants.

"Mouth. Open," Grusha demanded. You hesitated for a moment, glaring at him at those ice blue eyes flashing with red anger. Putting his thumb on your bottom lip, forcing your mouth open, his fingernails split your lip and forced your jaw open for him.

"I said open slut!"

His cock immediately gets jammed down your throat. His finger is jumbled in your grip, tightening as your mouth engulfs his thick cock. Your senses are overrun by his taste and smell, making your head spin. You tried to take all of him without gagging from the burn in your throat,

You feel every vein roll across your tongue as he makes you swallow all of him, your nose nestling against his drapes. Your cock was straining in your pants, your body pressed deliciously against the mattress. You can't help but slightly rut your hips in rhythm as your boyfriend begins to move, his grip tightening around your locks. He showed no mercy in his pace.

You could swear his eyes lit up when he felt your throat tighten, gagging on his dick.

The mix of pain you felt twisting with pleasure was addictive. You wanted more of the salty taste of his pre-cum on your tongue; the strong scent of your boyfriend's natural scent mixed with his crisp cologne made your brain melt.

"Don't tell me you're actually getting off to me like this?" he smirked. Sliding his cock out of your mouth only to flip you over, he lets out a drawn out groan when your throat bulges from his cock when he slides right back in. You lay there obediently; eyes glazed over with lust. You don't even remember why you were mad at him in the first place. All you can think about is how his balls slap against your face when Grusha face fucked you.

He placed a hand around your neck, wanting to feel his thick cock slide right in there. He wants to feel your throat tightening as you suck every last drop of cum from his tightening balls. He switches to deeper, harder thrusts when he leans forward, wrapping another hand around your cock, rhythmically moving up and down your toes curl, moaning around his shaft. 

Your lover grinds against your face. You want your hands free to touch and caress his body to grab his hips and make him move fuck himself with your throat through his orgasm.

Grusha's, the pleasure becoming too much, eyes flutter. "Your s-so good, with your mouth around me like that I- FUCK!"

He cries out, filling your throat with his seed, watching you eagerly drink every last drop of him. Stilling his hips making sure he gives you every last drop of him. He slides his semi hard cock out of you giving you a moment to breathe. He moves you from the edge of the bed to the pillows. Giving you a kiss on the forehead.

"Sorry about before," he whispers his fingers running through your hair. "You look a little tired so I'll give you a moment to rest but I'm not done with you. I still feel really pent up"

#smut #pokemon grusha x reader #male reader #x male reader #grusha x reader #gym leader grusha #Ro.commission #dubcon #cw branding #Smoking #pokemon scarlet and violet x reader #pokemon grusha #Grusha smut

[necros-writing-stuff]

Remember that post where u mentioned Dare taking us to the Swedish alps in winter when we're broken enough?

I was thinking about it ur honor. Dare who, when you act up on vacation, locks you out of the vacation home for a while. It's so cold, and there's nobody around for miles, so it's a good punishment. He never leaves you out there for long, and love bombs you with hot chocolate and a warm fire and cuddles when you're back in, but you don't want to make him angry again, do you?

SWISS. SWISS ALPS I MADE A GRAVE MISTAKE AND GOT THEM SWITCHED UP. SWITZERLAND NOT SWEDEN!

Anyway, a good idea, but again, not his style. He doesn't want to risk you running off - or someone strolling by and seeing it. Leaving you alone out there makes his skin itch, he feels the need to just grab you, bring you in and coddle you for ever.

He's more likely to threaten to brand you with the fire. Get a coat hanger, twist the metal into a DR and heat it up until you promise you'll behave. If you keep being stubborn, well he's fine with putting anti-septic on your ass cheek until it's healed.

#spill your guts #anonymous #not dol #darius radner #gn reader #cw branding #cw abuse

[uppermocns]

fighting as foreplay with naoya except it ends with him restrained and entirely at your mercy, unable to do anything except glare at you with humiliated tears and spit insults and threats about what he'll do when he breaks from these ties. you get tired of his pathetic attempt at soothing his ego and stuff your panties in his mouth. he's prettier and more useful to you when he's quiet.

mocking him and calling him a sick pervert when you notice the flush in his cheeks and his cock stiffening in his pants. staking your claim by carving your name into his flesh, giving him a permanent reminder of his weakness and how you made him submit to you.

#summoned #cw dark content #cw branding #cw knives #cw knife play #something abt naoya getting hard from pain #kinda sexy and i need him methinks

[rosewriteroyal]

MAFIA!DANN x TRANSMASC AFAB! READER 🔞

The creaking of the door followed by the soft shut echoed around the mansion as the soft tapping of feet walk across the hard wood floor towards the office. Y/N knocked on the door firs tbut to no reply, He than opened it slowly, there sitting at the desk was his lovely husband of 3 years, Dann.

Dann swift swung the chair around, pulling down the sunglasses and biting his lip towards his husband, the sound of chuckling from Dann stopped as Y/N feel to his knees, joking started to be beg. Following along Dann reached for the gun that laid in the draw, a pointed it as his lover

'Shoot me sir, I know you won't do it but please to die by your hand, oh I'd be in heaven, as much as I am when I rid your cock until I'm numb' Those words from Y/N mouth set Dann of, from the cocktail, playful mood to a now Dominating, Lustful mood.

Pulling the trigger and hearing the safety pull, his lover looked up to see Dann's lust feeled eyes. Dann grabbed Rough but gently around the neck, he placed a sloppy kiss on his lips. The sound of paper moving as Dann placed his lover on the desk infront of him

'Your going to behave, Kitten. Daddy will take care of you' Dann muttered is a deep raspy voice as he went and kissed Y/N neck. The wet sounds turned Y/N on more, the deep feeling inside his stomach as dann started to take of his lovers shirt (Dann's shirt) and kissed down Y/N chest. Tugging at Y/N nipples and hearing the sweet moans

'DADDY!Please' His kitten screamed as Dann looked up

'Kitten! Be patient. I'm getting there, this sweet pussy will have its time with me, just let me enjoy body' Dann said looking Y/N directly in his eyes, Y/N blown out pupils and the slightly open mouth aroused Dann as he could feel his dick growing, oh how he'll use that mouth and make it so pretty with cum.

Dann started to kiss his lover, tounges fight for control, His lover started to unbuckle Dann's belt and started to unbutton Dann's suit. Breaking the kiss, Dann looked at Y/N.

'Let Daddy, do it for you, kitten' With that Dann pulled of his suit jacket, throughing it across the office, next came his tie which he placed on thw desk, to be used for later, He belt also wa space Don the desk, Y/N looked down at the belt and tie and gulped, wondering what torture he had created. While y/N mind travelled to all the things Dann could do with the belt and tie, he didn't here then unzipping of pants, the sudden movement of his arm jolted him to look at Dann.

Y/N had forgotten how large Dann was, beig their last fuck was a long time ago, Dann moved Y/N head to face him

'eyes up here Darling. Oh Kitten, how you do look so tiny, do you think you can handle this' Dann said roughly pulling Y/N down to face his dick, pre cum leaking from the tip, the sound of the belt moving from the table caught Y/N attention

'Know I know you like a good spanking so heres what we are going to do. I'm going to sit on my chair, you are going to suck me off if I see you, not chocking on my cock I will spank you, 3 hits and the punishment gets worse' Dann said sitting back in the chair, his husband came crawling on the floor towards him, grabbing Dann's dick roughly

SMACK!

'Kitten, roughly grabbing my dick is also against the rules, same with biting' Dann said sliding the belt from his lover ass. Y/N slowly started to Kitten licker the head of Dann's cock

SMACK!

'Kitten, are you doing this on purpose? Baby, I told you, chocking or a smack' Dann said pushing his dick into Y/N mouth, hearing the sounds and seeing the drawl hanging from his lovers lips, made him even more hard. 'OH KITTEN, YOUR MLUTH IS AMAZING!'

SMACK!

Pulling of Dann's Dick, Y/N looked up with a unapologetic smile

'You are doing this on purpose' Dann said as he inspected his dick

'I only grazed you, Daddy' The smalll voice came form his lover

'Oh baby, you know what needs to be done' Dann said, pulling his botten draw out and searching for the object. This draw was full of their sex stuff. Collars, gags, beads, dildos you name it, Y/N even once joked they should have a sex room.

'Ah here it is' Dan. Said pulling out a small craving knife. Y/n could feel himself getting wetter by the second, he has so many scars of Dann writing degrading shit on him

'What should we write today, kitten' Dann said 'What about bad cockwhore' and Y/N nodded, sitting on his knees so his chest was on show 'Here baby, right above your heart, oh how sweet' Dann said, starting to scratch the skin, blood ran down Y/N chest, knowing Dann has a blood kink and the amount of bloody sex they have had before, this was Dann plan all along.

'And done, oh you look so pretty covered in blood and with my branding, "DANN'S BAD COCKWHORE" was craved into his chest and Y/N looked happy. Pulling down his underwear and sitting on the Dann's desk, Y/N begged

'Please Daddy. Coke fuck this bad cockwhore until he's all worn out, use my pussy until your done, breed me if you have too' Dann took that beg and walked over, looking down at the puddle on his desk

'Your dripping, kitten. Oh how I'm about to ruin you' Dann said, sliding his cock into Y/N pussy and started thrusting manically, holding Y/N by his legs, Dann pounded away, using Y/N as his own personal sex doll, the sounds of Y/N moans and begs filled the air as the crecking of desk joined in.

'Oh Kitten, im about to cum. I'm going to breed you, you going to look so hot and fuckable when your pregnant, I wont be able to keep my hands off youuuuuu' Dann said with a groan, he came inside of Y/N, his liver wasn't to far behind, squirting all over Dann's dick, all of a sudden their was a crash.

'I think we broke your desk' Y/N said failing to get up off the floor

'I think I broke you aswell, my love' Dann said picking Y/N up and taking him into their shared bedroom 'I'm going to run us a bath, ill come get you when it's ready, there's os water over on the table next to you. Y/N reached for the water and gulped it down, trying to gain his breath back, all of a sudden Dann emerged from the bathroom, walking over to the bed and picking Y/N up, 'we are going to have a ice relaxing bath, with champagne, bubbles and cuddles ' Dann said placing Y/Nin the bath and Dann getting in after, placing his lovers head on his chest.

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

Taglist:

@minheeskitten (Zephyr :3) This fic was dedicated to them.

#kpop #dann smut #cw: breeding #cw branding #night air network

[silverart-22]

Jackothy and some alts because I couldn't decide which I liked the best ✌🏼 😏

#jackothy #handsome jack #timothy lawrence #borderlands #sketchbook app #digital art #silverart22 #cw bruises #cw branding

[whump-in-the-closet]

The Merry Whump of May

@themerrywhumpofmay

May 16th- “Take a Break.”

[Branding Iron | Cemetery | Moonlight]

***

(tw: branding, death threat, implied past torture, magical whump, a guy gets speared with ice)

Villain had given up on finding their Sidekick.

It had been two months. Two long, dragging, horrible months. Nothing.

Villain hoped Sidekick had decided to change their identity and beat it to another country. They hoped they had faked their death and were living somewhere far, far away. Hey, maybe there were even happy.

Maybe they had learned to smile again. Sidekick had stopped smiling years ago.

Maybe Sidekick had followed the call of the void. The l'appel du vide. To simply disappear. Vanish. Never to be seen again.

Villain walked with their head down and hands shoved deep in their pockets. Because their gloves were ripped and did little to keep out the cold.

They had been feeling the l'appel du vide recently. Maye they would take a vacation. Buy a car and drive and drive and drive until they reached dirt roads. Then they would keep driving until the roads disappeared entirely, taking them with it.

But not today. Today was Monday and their shift was almost done. They really should buy some new gloves. Their fingers were going to be numb by the time they got home.

They passed by a cemetery without noticing it-- memorial stones crooked and gaping like teeth in the moonlight.

Villain walked by it. Stopped. Walked backwards, hair lifting on the back of their arms.

The shadows behind the stones had shifted. A new light had appeared– the raw red of an open flame. In contrast to the watery moonlight and its cool touch, the fire seemed bright and garish. Wrong. 

Villain didn't always think things through. They couldn't afford the time. They either acted, or they didn't.

They acted. They were over the gate in a heartbeat. Crouching low over the ground, Villain was hit with the smell of upturned dirt and rot. It brought to mind images of creeping worms and decaying skin.

Lovely. What joy.

Using the shadows and the towering stone memorials for cover, Villain crawled closer to the fire. 

The darkness had distorted into four separate people around the pit. Three stood together, while the fourth stood over the pit, hands clasped behind him.

As Villain's eyes adapted to the firelight, they were able to make out that the group of three people was in fact two people holding someone between them.

The third figure had his hands tied behind his back and wild hair in his eyes.

The world tilted. Shit.

In the flickering shadows, Villain could see the terror whip across the prisoner's face. It rose and fell as he tried to mask it. A trickle of blood dripped from his nose where he could not wipe it away. Every so often, he’d desperately try to lick it off. 

The defiance? Unmistakable. The fear? That was new.

Sidekick, apparently, had not escaped to another city.

The temperature dropped several degrees around Villain. A deep cold filled them. Not anger. Not horror. Just...empty. And so, so cold.

“--I told you to give it up,” said the man by the firepit in a voice barely louder than the snapping flames. “Did you listen? No. You had to keep on trying to escape, again and again and again.” 

Villain hissed through clenched teeth. They did not like where this was headed. Not in the slightest. They had lost feeling in their hands and now the cold spread up their arms.

L'appel du vide.

Though they were a good distance away from the fire, they could feel it on their face— blistering and painful. 

“There is no escape from us.” The man slipped on a pair of gloves and reached for a metal rod that had been resting in the firepit. 

Muscles curled like wires inside Villain as they watched. 

The rod was a branding iron. White-hot at the tip, curling to red. The pattern at the end was the insignia of the Agency.

The cold increased around Villain, breath freezing on their lips.

Sidekick struggled, biting and snarling, as the man approached, branding iron held like it was some lofty and sacred tool of higher purpose and not an instrument of torture. 

“Please–” Sidekick's voice was nothing but a shattered whisper, hoarse from screaming. “Don’t– don’t do this.” 

The man didn’t respond, merely nodding to his companions to rip the prisoner's shirt off. Which they did, with ruthless efficiency. 

Enough. 

Something inside Villain snapped. They stood, shadows falling off their skin like a discarded cloak to pool at their feet. The cold pooled out with the shadows. Unstoppable.

“Touch my Sidekick and I'll kill you." I will enjoy staring down at your lifeless corpse.

The man dismissed Villain with a laugh. "Stand down. This is official Agency business." The brand hovered only a moment–curling red over dark skin– before beginning its plunge. 

"And that is my sidekick."

The cold erupted into splintering ice, spearing the man through his hand. Blue ice completely swallowed the two companions who’d held Sidekick.

In the flashing light, Villain caught sight of blood and splintering-white bone in the darkness. A scream.

The branding iron fell to the ground and burned the grass. 

Sidekick lay gasping on the ground, eyes locked on the iron. It was a bit too close for comfort.

Villain did not stop with spearing the man. They sent another jagged edge of ice through him. And another. And yet another. Until all four limbs were transfixed to the ground with icicles.

If Villain hadn't been so empty, they would have laughed at the comedic value of it all.

They walked past the firepit and past the now-unconscious man. They crouched down in the rotting dirt by Sidekick, knocking away the branding iron. 

“Hey.” 

Wild eyes. Deer-in-headlights eyes.

“It's me.” They drew a knife and he flinched back. “Oh. Sorry. It’s for the ropes.” 

The only answer was shaky breathing. Villain carefully cut away the ropes and Sidekick jerked his hands away, rubbing his blistered wrists. 

"Are you hurt anywhere else?"

Sidekick lunged forward, almost knocking Villain backwards. He hugged Villain. It took a minute for Villain to realise that Sidekick was crying.

The cold dissolved inside Villain. The void retreated into aching silence. They sheathed the knife and wrapped their arms around Sidekick in a hug.

Shaking sobs.

Villain was also crying.

"Missed you," managed Villain.

"They-- they said you weren't coming."

Villain exhaled sharply. They didn't answer at first. Then: "C'mon. Let's get you home. You're going to be taking a long break. In fact, let's call it a vacation."

Villain stood and half-supporting Sidekick, left the burning light of the cemetery behind and walked in the moonlight. 

#themerrywhumpofmay #mwmday16 #cw branding #cw death threat #cw past torture #cw magical whump #cw spearing with ice #idk how to tag that #but the guy doesn’t die #whump writing #whump drabble #villain whump #sidekick whumpee #villain and sidekick

[whumpofdory]

The Spoiled Prince, Part 9

CW: graphic branding, begging, brainwashing, pet whump

Callum fell asleep shortly after Alvard left. He awoke to the sound of Evine’s voice. “Please, if you hurt him any more he could die! He isn’t used to this. Couldn’t he get shocked or something?”

“The phrase is “go into shock”, and I can handle it if he does. Wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened in these cells and I’m sure it won’t be the last either.” Callum felt a boot connect with his side and he grunted, turning onto the opposite side and curling in on himself.

“What do you want? Haven’t you done enough to me already?” Callum all but whispered. His collar was still on, but had been dirtied by the cell. Alvard didn’t mind; he was used to the layer of grime that covered things here. 

“I haven’t done nearly as much as I plan to, pet.” He walked around Callum and kicked his wounds on his back, making the boy cry out in pain and arch backwards, stretching the already shredded skin. 

“Please, your majesty, give him some time to heal. Then you can do whatever you want.” Evine tried to plead with the unfeeling golden eyes. 

“But I can do whatever I want now, why would I want to wait?” He ignored any further pleas from Evine and addressed the man on the floor beneath him. “Lie on your back.”

Callum tried to respond calmly. “Well you see, I can’t do that because some twat decided to whip me-” He let out another sharp shout as the boot behind him connected with his back again. With a great deal of muttering he slowly eased onto his back. 

“Now,” Alvard began, walking a few steps away, “you still haven’t obeyed both rules from yesterday. Do you remember what they were?”

“Always eat your veggies and-”

“Incorrect. They were ‘Do not remove your collar.’ And ‘Address me as Master.” You have only followed one of them. This is your chance to change your mistake.”

“I haven’t made any.”

“Fine.” An iron rod appeared in the king’s hand, around three feet long and half an inch thick. Callum could see it had some sort of shape on the end out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t care to be beaten again, but he supposed things could be worse. 

“I’ve been thinking,” said Alvard, waving the rod dramatically, “that you should have some sort of identifying mark in case you try to run away. On the off chance you would be stupid enough to try that.” 

“Of course I wouldn’t do that.” Callum was half sarcastic, but there was something dangerously close to begging in his voice. 

“Of course.” The king’s face drew into a mocking pout. “But better be safe than sorry.” He grinned and brought the shape at the end of the rod to his empty hand. His hand glowed with heat, and Callum realised what he was about to do. 

“No wait!” Without looking down, Alvard placed a boot squarely on his diaphragm, the toe of his boot just barely touching the top of his sternum. Callum wriggle under the force, trying to get away. “Just wait a minute, we can talk about this.” Panic was quickly seeping into his words. 

The shape now glowing red-hot, the king bent down and ripped Callum’s already ruined shirt down the front, and then around the arms so it came off in tatters. The prince tried to lift his arms to protect his chest, but the manacles were stuck behind Alvard’s calf. “Now try not to squirm. It’ll hurt more if you do.” The king said as he slowly brought the heated shape toward Callum’s left pectoral, trying to line it up straight between his shoulder and nipple. The prisoner watched it approach with increasing fear. He felt bile rise in his throat. “Master, please.” He said quietly. A little debasement now to avoid permanent scars. He told himself. 

“Sorry, what was that?” The brand moved farther away from his skin.

“Master, please don’t do this.” He said it clearly now, trying to ignore Evine’s stare from the other cell. “Please, Master, I’ll follow the rules.”

“Very good!” Alvard and Callum both smiled, one in triumph the other in relief. The brand plunged into the prince’s skin, making him scream. He could feel his skin bubbling and popping in the red-hot agony on his chest. “But too little too late. You had your chance earlier. Remember next time that my mercy will only extend to a certain point.” Callum felt the metal pull some of his skin with it as it left his chest. “But I am proud of our progress today. If you thank me now, we can be done for the day. What do you say?”

Callum gritted his teeth in pain and anger. “Thank you, Master.”

“Well done, pet. See you tomorrow.” The boot left his chest as Alvard disappeared. 

Evine could see the brand as Callum sat up. It was a basic diamond shape with a line connecting the two obtuse points. Alvard’s family’s royal symbol; he knew it from his studies. He stared at it before looking at Callum’s face. “Are you okay?” 

“Leave me alone. And when we get out of here, don’t tell anyone what happened. I just said that to get him to stop. You would do the same.” Callum huffed as much of a scoff as he could muster in his current condition. “In fact, I recall you would say anything to me a few times.”

His smile fell after he turned away. Does that mean I was as cruel as Mas- King Alvard? He thought to himself. How could I have treated someone that way and thought it was normal? He started to realise that he had worse in store for him than Evine had ever endured by his hand. Maybe it’s what I deserve.

Taglist:  @whumpy-butterflies , @pigeonwhumps , @wolves-and-winters @heyyitsworld @mothmxwhump

#whump #whump ideas #whump blog #whump scenario #royal whump #royal whumpee #royal whumper #Callum #Evine #Alvard #branding #cw branding #pet whump

[lilac-whump]

Nightmare's Shadow Part 5- One Good Thing

I'm on a roll and refuse to abide by a posting schedule. I post as parts get written so no promises about how long this streak will go. Heres a chapter with more whump in it!

Cw: torture, branding, shame, lady whump, fantasy whump

Previous / Masterlist

One Good Thing

Three Years Previous

Nevaeh was the only good thing that existed in the world.

Inrissa clung to the image of her smile, the memory of her soft touch, gripping it in her mind as pain radiated through her body. She closed her eyes so there was only pain and memory. The Silence emanating from the collar around her neck was impenetrable, no sound entered and no sound escaped. Even Inrissa’s own screams didn’t reach her ears. Like her screams didn’t exist. Because her pain only existed in her own mind and body.

A gauntleted fist slammed into Inrissa’s stomach, pushing all the air from her lungs and yanking her wrists against their chains. Pain. Everything was pain. This pain meant something, she knew that. They didn’t want her to close her eyes. They didn’t want to give her that escape.

Inrissa didn’t give them that satisfaction. She was used to pain. It was just a backdrop to her life, she didn’t have to give it the starring role. It didn’t have to be the most important thing. That spot was held for Nevaeh instead. Inrissa focused on the image of the human girl's long red hair, braided down her back, her freckles, her nose scrunched in a laugh. It didn’t matter if all of her kindness was confined to stolen moments amongst the oversight of Inrissa’s masters.

Even stolen breaths of joy and kindness could be treasured.

White hot pain exploded on Inrissa’s back, concentrated between her shoulder blades. A scream ripped out of her, as silent as ever, but painfully tearing at her throat and lungs. Her eyes flew open, stinging with tears. The image of Nevaeh’s face blurred against the agony.

Even in the suffocating silence, Inrissa could feel her skin sizzle and bubble under the heat she slowly recognized. It wasn’t as if this was the first time she had encountered a branding iron.

The brands on the soles of her feet had scarred over long ago, leaving the skin rough and numb. The numbness had taken years, years where walking had been agony, and the slightest irritation would send bolts of pain up her leg. At least she didn’t have to walk on her back. This brand wasn’t to keep her from running, it wasn’t to keep her docile and trainable.

So what was it for?

Inrissa blinked, trying to clear her vision. She couldn’t find the branding iron, it must still be behind her. Were they keeping it from her on purpose?

Shayla stood across from Inrissa, a smirk on the tall woman’s lips. Taunting her. Inrissa snarled at her, baring her teeth. It was futile, it would only earn her punishment, but she hated that woman. She always brought pain and mockery, drawing it out with her razorblades, tracing out scars like a twisted art form.

Branding wasn’t her usual style. What was going on?

Shayla snapped her fingers and sound rushed in around Inrissa, nearly deafening in its suddenness. Inrissa gasped and flinched, then scowled at Shayla once again.

“What…what did you..” Inrissa wanted to demand answers, she wanted to put anger behind her words, but her voice was so hoarse from screaming, and her muscles trembled from fatigue and a deep, instinctual fear of Shayla that it was all she could do to stammer out the question.

Shayla cocked a high arched eyebrow, cruel amusement glittering in her golden eyes.

“You know, I wondered if you would recognize it from feel alone,” she said, her voice dripping with toxic honey. “I guess that’s a no.”

Inrissa clenched her jaw and broke eye contact, looking away. Mostly to hide the grimace she couldn’t contain as the pain of the burn rolled through her in waves.

“Well, maybe you’ll get lucky,” Shayla said, walking close to Inrissa. “Maybe there will be someone kind enough to tell you. If you ask.”

Shayla turned and walked out of the room with that, her heels clicking on the stone floor. Inrissa watched her go, her heart frozen in her chest.

Shayla’s words sank into her like a knife. Shayla knew. They knew. They knew about Nevaeh, that she was kind to Inrissa. That there was someone who treated Inrissa like a person.

If Inrissa wanted to know what had been branded onto her back, she would have to ask the one person who gave her even a scrap of respect.

Shame curled through Inrissa like thick smoke. She wished she could curl up on the floor and bury her head in her arms, but she couldn’t move against the chains that still held her.

She understood now. Why she was being punished. Why she was branded with an unknown marking. Because her masters had realized someone was treating her with kindness. Someone had offered Inrissa a glimpse at happiness.

Naturally, she had to be reminded of what she really was. Not deserving of this kindness. Nowhere near an equal to the servant girl.

Inrissa was nothing.

—---------

Present

The city of Reklum unfolded around Inrissa as she tried to drink it all in. The buildings were almost all from chiseled stone, with a dragon motif present in almost all the decor. She supposed that was to be expected, the symbol of the Reklum Empire was a golden three headed dragon, and this was their capital city. So, they really loved dragons here.

And then there were the people. So many people. Just like the Elite Guard themselves, the people came in a dizzying array of variety. Humans, half elves, scaled dragonborns, aloof full elves, stout dwarves, tiny gnomes, and varieties Inrissa couldn’t put a name to. She scanned the crowds for anyone like her, the horns, the tail, the pupil-less mono color eyes, but found the crowds devoid of other tieflings. Her heart squeezed in her chest.

“My father will be expecting us,” Natala said, taking the lead of the group from Absalom. She caught Inrissa’s eye and nodded subtly.

“I’ll catch up with you after,” Inrissa said, slipping away from the group before anyone could object. Natala had given her one of the group's enchanted communication stones last night, so they could contact her to meet up when they were done.

It had taken them three days to travel from the Aren Glade to the expansive capital city, and Inrissa could breathe easier separating from the group. They had agreed to let her travel with and work alongside them, and Natala had offered a comforting kind of kinship to her, but Inrissa couldn’t relax as long as she was with them. Aside from the princess, none of them really trusted her. They allowed her presence as a courtesy, taking Absalom’s fathers word, but they were all waiting. All watching.

Especially Prometheus Firstforged. She bristled just at the thought, weaving through the crowds of Reklum. Her illusory appearance gave her comfort, anonymity wrapped around her like a security blanket. One thing it couldn’t hide, however, was her hatred for Prometheus and everything he had ever created.

Of course, his delicate ego couldn’t take that. He had spent the last three days making poorly guised attempts to get Inrissa to praise him or his work. Pointing out the fine craftsmanship of his weapons and armor, and the equipment he had crafted for his friends. It had taken all of her self control not to scream at him or stab him.

But the most important part of a hunt was the wait. She had to make her reveal at the correct moment. Not out on the road where there were few other people around, and where Prometheus lacked access to his forge. When she revealed herself to him, it would be with immediate access to the resources needed to remove the collar.

Once they had made their report to the Emperor, it would be a matter of hours. She could get him at his forge and finally find out who he was underneath the public mask. Would he willingly help her, or would she have to force the aid out of him? She was only marginally sure his friends had no idea about his involvement with the Society, if that were true, what would they think? Natala was her most likely ally, and she held a lot of power.

Inrissa shook her head and pulled her focus back to her surroundings. She had been crafting her strategy for weeks, another few hours wouldn’t change anything. Unless during those few hours she screwed up by not paying attention to where she was walking.

Tracking her path through the city, Inrissa tried to imagine herself living there. After all, the whole point of all of this was to, someday, just be able to live her life. Have a home where she felt safe enough to sleep deeply. Maybe even have friends. To never have to be reminded of her pain again.

The people around her looked so happy, so content. There were mothers holding children’s hands, crafters and merchants haggled over prices. The city was like a living being, and all of the people like drops of blood pumping through the massive veins. Existing. Living. Belonging. Next to them, Inrissa felt like a virus.

A flash of red hair caught Inrissa’s eye and habit pulled her gaze in a double take. She was already scolding herself- Nevaeh was dead, she had to stop looking for her around every corner- but she froze, staring at the back of the woman weaving through the crowd. She had caught only a glimpse of her face but it was the same face Inrissa saw in the mirror with her disguise. The same face she had worn since her escape, the first face that had ever shown her kindness.

Was it?

Was Inrissa just caught up in the hopefulness of the city?

Her feet pulled her forward after the woman. She had to know. She couldn’t live with herself if she walked away wondering. She picked up speed, her heart hammering against her ribs like it wanted to escape. Inrissa reached out, nearly within arms length of the other woman.

“Nevaeh?” she called out. The other woman spun and Inrissa choked on her breath.

Familiar green eyes narrowed in her direction, full of surprise, confusion, and suspicion. It was her. Alive. Right here in Reklum. How?

Before Inrissa could get any questions out, Nevaeh- it had to be her, right?- turned on her heel and darted into a side alley. Inrissa slipped in behind her, hope and terror warring in her veins.

Around another corner, Nevaeh spun to face Inrissa and drew a wicked knife. No one else was around, now. They were alone.

“Who are you?” she hissed. Her voice confirmed any doubt Inrissa might have had. “And what do you want?”

Inrissa stared at her. She wanted to ask her how she was alive, how had she gotten here, and a million other things. Elation swelled up in her chest. They had both escaped. They had both made it to the utopia that Nevaeh had first dreamed about. And against all odds they had found each other again.

Inrissa flicked her wrist and dropped the illusion. Let Nevaeh’s face fall away from her own and watched as shock and recognition washed over the face of her oldest friend.

“It’s me.”

Next

#dun dun duuuuun #a fun reveal! #dont worry this does not lead to any kind of easy resolution or simple happy ending for Inrissa #just a friend assumed dead whos actually alive #what could possibly go wrong #sorry part of this is a bit rambly #just didnt want it to look like she wasnt acting on finding Prometheus for no reason #nightmare's shadow #cw slavery #whump #fantasy whump #lady whump #cw torture #cw branding

[wriothesleysgf]

plug ! eren putting out his cigarette on ur tummy 🤭

#ʚ lilah's notes ! ɞ #cw branding #cw burning

[whump-cafe]

👀 Rain, what’s the worst thing you’ve seen done to a fellow whumpee punishment-wise and how would you react to that happening to you? - cowboy anon

"Um...", he looks at you a bit nervously while fidgeting with the ends of his sleeves, "I..I d-don't think I was su-supposed to see but uhm.." Rain looks at the ground for a moment before continuing, in a quieter voice now, "I-it was some..some type of..branding, I think? Two of the um, of the guards h-had to hold them still and.. I r-remember their screams were-", he shudders while closing his eyes for a moment, trying to push the memory away. "I-I don't know how I would react to that I don't-", he looks up with slightly widened eyes after a moment while moving back against the wall a bit, "I r-really try not to get in trouble! But..i-if I ever messed up that badly I think- I hope I w-would just pass out so I w-wouldn't feel the pain as long as t-they did..."

#Thanks for the ask CB! #poor Rain is a little freaked out now~ #happens :) #whump ocs #my ocs #whump #ask game #cw branding #oc rain #oc question #he just wants to be a good bean and stay out of trouble yk~ #whumpblr