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serickswrites · 3 months

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Solitary

Warnings: captivity, torture, restraints, solitary confinement, small spaces, sensory deprivation

"SHUT UP!" Whumper growled at Team Leader. Whumper had, for the better part of an hour, been trying to hurt Teammate One, but each time Whumper raised their hand, Team Leader began to scream. Scream at their top of their longs, breaking Whumper's concentration.

Team Leader didn't relent. They couldn't. As long as Whumper wasn't distracted, they wouldn't hurt any of the team. Team Leader wouldn't let Whumper hurt their team.

"If you do not shut up, I will make you." Whumper said as they stalked away from Teammate One.

But Team Leader didn't stop. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" Their throat was ragged from screaming, but they wouldn't stop. Couldn't stop.

Whumper stalked forward and boxed Team Leader's ears, disorienting them quickly. Team Leader's scream faltered as they listed sideways from the blow. Whumper took advantage and began to drag Team Leader out of the room. "I will have my way with your team. I will. There is nothing you can do to stop me."

Team Leader opened their mouth to start screaming once more, but Whumper shoved a filthy rag in their mouth. "You will not spoil my fun."

Team Leader began to struggle in their restraints, trying to free their fingers enough to rip the rag out of their mouth. Whumper quickly pulled a blindfold down over Team Leader's eyes. Team Leader struggled violently against being blinded, but Whumper boxed their ears once more before lifting them into the air.

"You will not spoil my fun," they growled in Team Leader's ear as they dropped Team Leader.

Team Leader's heart fluttered as they had no way to gauge how long they would fall. Their fall was broken abruptly by cold metal. They were enclosed on all sides by metal. They thrashed against the sides. They had to get out of the box.

"Let's see how you do with some time alone with your thoughts, Team Leader." Whumper whispered in their ear before shoving something thick and cottony in both their ears.

Team Leader was cut off from their senses. Cut off from the world. Cut off and in a tight space. Cut off and unable to help their team. Cut off and unable to do anything but try and calm their breathing.

Time passed. Or didn't. Team Leader had no way of knowing. Had no way of knowing anything. They only had their hope that Whumper would come for them soon. And then they would have their revenge.

#serickswrites #whump #whumpblr #whump writing #whump community #tw captivity #tw restraints #tw torture #tw solitary confinement #tw small spaces #tw sensory deprivation #team whump #febuwhump #febuwhump 2024 #day 2 #prompt: solitary confinement #queue

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meraki24601 · 10 months

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Blindfolded

It's hard to keep track of time in a cell.

Whumpee learned early on that feeding times were… inconsistent. That was when food actually came. When they did eat, it was usually just enough to remind them how hungry they were.

Eventually, Whumpee learned to estimate time based on how much they had healed and which person was in charge of torturing them. 7 different people would rotate in. Whumpee figured their ability to heal had slowed dramatically since they were first kidnapped from their and Caretaker's bed, but combined, the methods held up in Whumpee's mind, keeping them sane.

7 months and 2 days was their best guess.

Caretaker was on a mission when Whumpee had been taken. How long did it take them to realize Whumpee was missing? Did anyone actually know? Caretaker could have been hurt or killed on their mission. The government might have assumed Whumpee ran after losing Caretaker. Was anyone even looking for them? They missed Caretaker's kisses. One on the forehead, one on the nose, then one loving kiss on their lips.

7 months and 19 days in, they started attacking Whumpee's senses. A blindfold they couldn't remove. They filled Whumpee's cell with different scents, including Caretaker's favorite perfume. They drugged Whumpee so they couldn't feel anything from the neck down. Still, Whumpee refused to break. They would die before they gave the enemy what they wanted.

The sensory deprivation became part of the rotation, helping Whumpee count the minutes.

It happened during a blind week.

Whumpee estimated maybe one more blind day before they would be shoved in the bright room and drugged so they couldn't move. It was Whumpee's least favorite Whumper's turn before they were taken away. Whumpee never knew what to expect from them. Knives, hallucinogens, fists, maybe they'll bring in a group of people again and let them choose what to do with them. The first time they had done that was the closest Whumpee had come to breaking.

The door opened and Whumpee heard them. Five sets of footsteps entered their cell. They could hear each one pause in the doorway, presumably to look at Whumpee, before entering with slow, quiet steps. Whumpee just loved being right about these things. They wished they still had voice enough to scream their burning hate to Whumper. It would have to be enough to fight against the hands trying to grab them.

Fighting with their hands tied behind their back is not easy. It doesn't help they hadn't been given water in the past 2ish days. Maybe if they stopped fighting Whumper would end the streak. Of course, they wouldn’t give up like that, but it was a nice thought. A thought they couldn’t hold on to for long. Trying to dodge some of the grabbing hands, Whumpee lost their balance and their head slammed into the wall.

Blind, disoriented, and in pain, Whumpee collapsed. They continued to struggle, though weakly, and couldn’t help but flinch as Caretaker’s scent filled their nose. Whumper had tried this before. They even played a recording of Caretaker’s voice to calm Whumpee down and convince them they had been rescued. If they were playing the recording now, it wouldn’t really matter as the ringing in their ears drowned all other noise out. Whumpee couldn’t help a small laugh at the irony.

Hands held them down. Surprisingly gentle fingers fiddled with their blindfold enough to trigger the shock collar. The hands holding Whumpee down released them quickly in response to the intense electrocution. The moment it ended the hands were back. Gentle and dangerous, they adjusted Whumpee’s body so they were a little more comfortable on the cold floor. They even freed Whumpee’s hands from the ropes tying them behind their back.

This was worse. This was so much worse. Whumpee didn’t know when or where the pain was going to come from. The ringing in their ears was slowly going away, but they hadn’t heard if they had been asked any questions. After triggering the shock collar, Whumpee barely had the strength left to shiver.

The hands noticed. All hands but two disappeared. One at a time always lasted so much longer than when they all got their fill at once. They lifted Whumpee’s helpless body into their arms. The smell of Caretaker flooded over Whumpee and they relaxed slightly despite themselves. The person holding them kissed them. One on the forehead, one on the nose, then one loving kiss on their lips.

“Caretaker.”

The darkness thickened and Whumpee drifted. It was them. They were safe.

Finally.

Part 2

#whump #whump fic #whump scenario #whumpee #caretaker #rescue #whump writing #whump ideas #whump tropes #whumper #whump drabble #not graphic torture #sensory deprivation

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befuddled-calico-whump · 4 months

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Test Track AU (T$$ AU Masterlist)

previous (cw: gore) /// next

Suggested by anon!

@theonewithallthefixations , @violets-whumperflies , @whump-me , @pirefyrelight , @soheavyaburden , @snakebites-and-ink , @whumpsday , @suspicious-whumping-egg , @cryptidwritings

#i just like the mitts :)#t$$ Sahota #t$$ test track au #whump art #injection #noncon drugging #needles tw #sensory deprivation #torture

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abhainnwhump · 6 months

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Whumpee is locked in an empty dark room with a metronome. It ticks back and forth at a steady pace, 24/7. It never stops. Whumpee has no idea what time it is, how long they've been there, or even when they are fed. They can't even find the source of that metronome, it's like it changes places. Soon enough, they start going mad.

Another metronome prompt:

Whumper uses a metronome to hypnotize Whumpee and make them repeat every cruel, messed up word they say. The ticking never leaves Whumpee's mind.

#if you don't know ehat a metronome is #its a tool muscians (namely piano players) use to stick to the BPM #I think #I have minimal musical knowledge and zero musical talent whatsoever #whump #whump prompt #whump writing #whumpblr #whump tropes #hypnosis whump #hypnotized whumpee #sensory torture #sensory deprivation #isolation #captured whumpee #conditioned whumpee #conditioning whump #metronome

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tightsweatyclothes · 6 months

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It is difficult to properly describe the disorientation, the helplessness of sensory deprivation. In the first few days, or what I supposed to be days, I screamed constantly into the gag, trying to hear my own voice, but even the vibrations of bone conduction had somehow been stilled by the hood. I did not realize how much our hearing and sight are taken for granted until I was denied of them completely. Each movement I made was halting, hesitating, desperate for anything that would break the stuffy dark and silence, yet fearful of what lay outside my skin-tight prison. Countless times did I try to pry off the hood, pry the suit off, but it stayed on, and my only reward was sweating worse into the itchy suit from the exertion. My tormentors prodded me with a sticks, shocked me with electricity, and I could neither see nor hear them. It was utterly infuriating. At first I tried to swipe at them, to retaliate, but with my sight and hearing gone, I could not even lay a finger on them. They would trip me up, and each time I put my gloved hands against the ground, trying to feel out the ground, to support myself and stand, I would find myself kicked down again, and nothing could tell me where the next blow would land. My only hope was to kneel, silent and docile, hoping they would tire of tormenting me. Who knows how many hours I spent like this, cowering and helpless, alone in the hot and muggy dark, afraid to move a finger for fear of the abuse coming back? Countless times did I pray for someone to save me from the stillness, the darkness which pressed in on me and suffocated me, and not once have my prayers been answered.

#hot and sweaty #rubber prison #tight bodysuit #total enclosure #sensory deprivation #sauna torture #torture #story prompt #story

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cedarw00d-the-fourth · 7 days

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Astarion(ascended) and Gortash are fighting over who's the worst character in my canon

meanwhile Raphael is standing in the background with a metal pipe

#like Astarion was ready to marry off his daughter to a vampire lord #and Gortash locked Lythe in a room full of gondian children #but Raphael tortured Agnezes ever since she made her contract with him when she was...*checks notes*#sixteen years old #and he even had sex with her when she was seventeen #and whipped her because she has severe sensory issues #and even took her horns in one of my endings #sorry i just get a little silly #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 gortash #baldur's gate 3 #enver gortash #astarion ancunin #ascended astarion #raphael bg3 #cedar rambles

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lazyveran · 6 days

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jesus christ every time i scroll down another post you have something fascinating to say abt the azula in ur brain. well?????? what happens to her post canon???!?!?

starrdio we HAVE to kiss. thank you for asking...

SO. my main vision of azula is that immediately post-war zuko has. absolutely no idea what to do with azula. he's just ascended the throne and he has half his country wanting him dead and he's only sixteen. azula was fire lord for a day, wanted to kill him, has tried to kill him, is probably still loyal to ozai (and god he is NOT telling her about the ozai bending-away situation rn. OR URSA.) so he places her in a highly secure prison until he's settled enough to figure out what to do with his war criminal baby sister

and the prison guards... well, they hate azula. to many of them, she's the closest thing they have to punishing ozai so they treat her accordingly (not like the child she is, but some sort of monster they pin all their anger and grief onto). they shave her head as a sign of her defeat, dishonouring her, they put her in a cell with no sunlight, and they regularly try to bait her. not that it ever works

azula goes nonverbal. for months. she's only in the jail for a few weeks before zuko is able to visit, sees her conditions, and promptly banishes the entire staff and takes her back to the palace. he puts her up her own wing of the palace, tries to care for her best he can, but azula is silent. she barely even looks at him, or anyone. it's like her spirit is just... gone. she shoves away all the familiar figures in her life - zuko, mai, ty lee, her servants, mirrors (for fear they're hallucinations. she no longer trusts her own reality and it's terrifying and she's so scared of her own mind. she refuses to bow to the false visions of living and dead, desperately trying to overcome this 'weakness')

for azula, her only words for nearly a year were her anguished screams and cries in the last agni kai. as she no longer feels worthy of her bending after her dishonour and defeat, she no longer uses her voice. her second greatest weapon, her wit and words and the way she weaved them, is gone. in it, azula remains

#if you please. the iroh and azula parallels of them both acting the same way while imprisoned #silent and brooding and taking abuse from guards #both of them with a sense of shame and betrayal #the greatest figures of war brought to nothing in defeat with endless time to think #also. the fingers thing is bc prison sensory deprivation equals. well azula's mind needs an outlet. so abuses her hands for stimulation #sorry azula. my babygirl. spinning her around in the torture chamber #the potential of this after azula goes verbal again is fun. im writing a fic abt it rn (secret info)#azula #zuko #atla #starrdio #ask

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the-furies · 1 month

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Cocomelon [verb]

1. To (subtly?) trick or deceive

2. To mesmerize a victim, whether they’re an infant or high or simply confused

*don't worry about what cock videos means 👍

#putting this in the main tag. im in an Elevated Mood tonight #disco elysium #pk;m Electrochemistry🔴#for clarification bc this is a doodle and i am putting this in the main tag so strangers will see: you are tasked with torturing Suggestion.#Sorry my art is not the best i drew him on our phone HAHAAJSKSKDKFNC #**cock videos refers to shit like actual cocomelon. baby sensory videos n shit. anything that would #grab your attention while high. like How It's Made and such #it's an inside joke with friends. same with the term 'cocomeloning him'

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robinrites · 10 months

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Villain Whumpee story part 3

last part here!

By the time Hero reaches the hideout with Villain, Villain’s whole crew has already arrived, eager to see their boss again. Thankfully, Sidekick quickly shoos them off, knowing that their boss wouldn’t want the crew to see him in this state. Hero thanks him, then carries Villain into the med room, extremely thankful Villain happened to have Medic on staff before all this happened. He lays Villain down on the table, then his head darts up as the door opens and Sidekick and Medic walk in.

“Holy shit.” Sidekick mutters, taking in all the injuries on their boss.

Hero can’t blame them either. Villain seems much worse than the last time he saw them. Hero can’t help but internally curse himself for taking so long. One of Villain’s shoulders is clearly dislocated, bruises and cuts and burns cover every visible inch of Villain’s body. Thick lines of scarring surround his wrists, throat, and ankles from where the shackles rested. Villain’s hand shows signs of being broken and healing wrong, which means they’ll need to re-break it so it can heal properly. Villain shivers, despite his forehead burning up. As Medic carefully takes Villain’s shirt off, the room falls silent. Every rib is visible, one or two even appear broken. Hero takes the scraps left of Villain’s shirt from Medic to dispose of and can’t help but notice how thin it is. He must’ve been freezing. He shakes his head to bring himself back to focus and notices that Medic has already got an IV running into Villain’s arm.

“It’s just nutrients and water for now. I’ll probably add some sedatives once we really assess the damage.” Medic chimes in, noticing Hero staring at the IV.

Sidekick places their arm on Hero’s shoulder, “It’s not your fault y’know? You had no way of knowing.”

“Maybe if I had rescued him sooner-”

“Hero, that’s not going to make it better. You did what you could.” Sidekick rubs his shoulder gently, “We have him now, let’s make sure it stays that way okay?” Hero swallows the lump in his throat and then nods.

“How can I help?”

One and a half years ago

Villain rushes down the maintenance tunnels under the prison and can barely stifle a laugh. “Oh my gods, I can’t believe my plan actually worked.” He steals a quick glance behind him, just to make sure he really isn’t being followed before continuing forward. When he finally reaches the end of the tunnel, he finds a duffle bag stuffed with civilian clothes to help him blend in, which he quickly changes into before climbing the ladder out of the tunnels.

Villain pops his head up hesitantly, and upon seeing that no one is around, he slides the street cover out of the way and quickly climbs up, making sure he slides the cover back in place before moving to a busier street to try to blend in. Six blocks to the safehouse, and then I just have to wait for nightfall to get out of the city. How hard could this be? Ten minutes pass and Villain finds himself standing in front of his safehouse, or as he likes to call it, his “totally nondescript house in the ‘burbs’”. Villain walks around the side of the house, then picks up the rock his henchmen told him the key would be in.

Villain slides the key into the lock easily and smiles, he closes his eyes as he throws open the door, saying “Honey, I’m home!” In a mock suburban tone. When he’s not greeted by a gaggle of henchman, he opens his eyes. The keys fall, and his stomach drops as he makes eye contact with none other than Superhero. “Y-you.” Villain takes a step back, panic beginning to fill his whole body. Villain’s heart sinks as the realization that there’s no winning this fight settles into his mind. Six months in prison means little to no exercise, and since he hadn’t planned on staying in the safehouse more than a couple hours, all his gadgets are at his lair outside the city.

“Me.” Superhero says with a smile, stepping closer and closer to Villain until his back is pushed up against the door he’d just come through. Superhero grabs Villain by his chin, forcing him to make eye contact. “What, you didn’t think I’d just let you go, did you?”

Villain tries to push fake confidence, “Since when do you care about low lifes like me? I’m usually Hero’s problem…So maybe you should just let him deal with me.” Villain’s heart races, he’s heard from other villains about how Superhero fights with no holds barred. He takes out all his anger on who he’s fighting, that’s part of the reason Villain is glad Hero is his archnemesis, and not Superhero. Well, that and the fact that Villain might have the tiniest crush on Hero, but that’s an issue for later.

Superhero shakes his head, “Tsk, but then you’d just escape again. Don’t you get tired of the same old cat and mouse game, Villain?” Villain yanks his chin out of Superhero’s grasp and tries to shove him away. “Don’t try to fight me on this.” Superhero shoves his forearm against Villain’s throat, pinning him to the wall. “This should make you a little bit more agreeable.” Villain barely registers the glint of a needle before he feels a sharp prick in his neck. He tries to say anything in protest, but all that comes out is jumbled, until he feels darkness take over and his body hits the floor.

Villain wakes up in a cell, and if it wasn’t for the glaring lack of dull prison decorations, he thinks he would have forgotten what had happened hours (or days, it’s hard to tell when you’re unconscious) prior. In spite of feeling groggy as hell, Villain pushes his hands underneath him to maneuver himself into a seated position. It’s only after he’s done this that he notices the shackles wrapped around his wrists and ankles. Chains connect his wrists to each other, and the same for his ankles, with one additional chain on each “pair” leading to a bolt in the center. His head darts around, checking for any hidden camera or microphone in the room.

“Alright Superhero!” Villain shouts, his voice shaky from nerves. “You’ve got me! You can take me back to prison now, I won’t escape I promise!”

A door slides open, frightening Villain who flinches back briefly. Superhero steps in, towering over Villain who is doing his best to put on a brave face.

“Ah!” Superhero smiles, “Glad to see you’ve woken up. Now, I think I heard you say you wanted me to take you back to prison, is that correct?” Villain silently nods, holding his breath. “That’s what I thought. Let’s get one thing very clear, okay?” He crouches down to eye level with Villain, grabbing his chin, just like he had earlier, to assert control. “You don’t tell me what to do. I am in control here. You are just a sad, pathetic, little Villain who needs to be taught some manners. Understood?” Villain spits in his face, or at least tries to. A lack of water results in barely a spattering of spit, which angers Superhero nonetheless. He lets go of Villain’s chin and stands up. “So this is how we’re going to play this hm?”

He turns around and exits the room briefly. Villain scoots as far back as his chains allow and releases the breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding. Before Villain even has a second to collect his thoughts, the door opens and allows Superhero back in, who is now holding some mysterious object behind his back.

“W-What’s that?” Villain’s heart races a bit as a sly smile builds on Superhero’s face.

“I had really hoped we could do this the easy way, Villain.” Superhero shakes his head, “But, I can already tell you are going to make this anything but easy. So instead, I get to try something I’ve always wanted to try.” He reveals a black bag, “Tell me, Villain, have you ever tried sensory deprivation on any of your victims?”

“Victims? What the hell do you mean? I never hurt a soul while I’m out-” Villain’s eyes widen as Superhero begins to pull items from the bag. He watches silently as a blindfold, headphones, and a gag are laid before him.

“Pick one.”

“What the fuck do you mean by ‘pick one’?” Villain’s back presses up against the wall.

“Fine. Guess we’re doing them all.” Superhero grabs the blindfold first and quickly ties it around Villain’s hair, purposefully making sure some of his hair is tied up in the knot.

“Wait! Wait!” Villain tries to beg quickly, “Superhero please don’t-” A metal gag covers his mouth and Villain can hear a lock turning on the back, he shakes his head, tears starting to form in his eyes as he shakes his head, trying to avoid having headphones put over his ears.

“Don’t get too comfortable now.” Villain can picture Superhero smirking as he says this, making Villain’s stomach turn. “I’ll be back to take these off when I decide you’ve earned it, understand?” When Villain does nothing to acknowledge him, Superhero smacks him across the face. “I said, understand?” Villain quickly nods, then he feels big headphones slide over his ears, blocking out any other words Superhero might say to him.

In the end, Superhero leaves him like that for a week. Halfway through the week, he takes the gag off, purely so he can hear Villain beg. Sometimes Villain calls out for Hero, which always makes Superhero laugh, especially knowing that Hero is looking for Villain. Sometimes he cries for his mom, and other times he begs Superhero to listen to him. If Villain could hear, all he would hear is Superhero laughing at him, mocking him. Maybe it was for the best that way.

#villain whumpee #villain whump #hero and villain #whump #sensory deprivation #whumpblr #hero x villain #whump prompt #flashback #hurt/comfort #hurt/aftermath #torture tw

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